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obsessedelusional · 1 year

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opposite

paring ✦ Bella Ramsey x Reader

summary ✦ It’s hard to move on when your ex is a famous actor. As a even more famous singer your bound to see each other. What happens when Bella allegedly starts dating their costar? Who looks entirely the opposite of you.

word count ✦ 3,700ish

authors note ✦ I saw Sabrina Carpenter live and this song has been stuck in my head so it inspired this. Also the most recent request I got had the sweetest not ever just about cried reading it. Just wanted to let who ever sent that know I appreciate you so much. Almost to 900 omg thank uuuuuuuuuu

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FEEDBACK AND REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!!

⊹ ꙳ ✦ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹

Your ex partner, Bella Ramsey, had finally found the success they always wanted. Which only made the break up harder, seeing their stupidly handsome face everywhere.

You were an even more successful singer, your rise to fame began when you stared in a popular children’s show. As you aged and left the show you began posting covers online. Eventually sharing snippets of your original work, one went mega viral changing the trajectory of your life. Releasing the song began your music journey and you hadn’t acted since.

It all started when the director of a movie Bella would be staring in approached you to write a song that would be featured in the movie, you were ecstatic. You were invited to the premiere where you were introduced to Bella. Your attraction to them was instantaneous.

Unfortunately you didn’t get to see them again that night. When you arrive home that night you throw on your comfiest clothes. Laying in bed you waste no time cyber stalking Bella. Doesn’t take you much time to find their instagram. You smile seeing the follow back button. You click it before sending a simple message about how you enjoyed the film. Truth be told you weren’t paying much attention to it. It takes a couple hours but Bella responds thanking you. This conversation sparked many more before finally inviting Bella over. A handful more of casual dates lead to you two making it official.

Your relationship with Bella was extremely private entirely on their part. You wanted the world to know but they weren’t ready. So you never pushed the issue figuring Bella would be ready eventually. Six months later and they weren’t ready, starting the downfall of the relationship.

Missing opportunities because Bella wanted you with them. A big event would be nearing and suddenly Bella desperately needed you in England. Only for you to arrive and Bella be distracted. One time you arrived and Bella never responded to your messages. You were in their home town for a whole 24 hours before they got back to you. They came out with some bullshit excuse.

Making you feel like shit for going to events while they were in town. Leading to arguments because they were always invited. Sometimes you couldn’t help but feel like they were jealous of the fact that you were on a whole different plane of fame than them. Or maybe they felt inadequate. Bella shut down at every conversation about the relationship so you never understood the underlying issues.

It all came to an end when you had planned a trip to Paris for the two of you, somewhere you had always dreamt of visiting. They were well aware of this fact, telling you that one day they’d take you.

Bella would be done filming their most recent project around the time you’d be on a two week break from tour. You wanted nothing more than to spend it with Bella. Things had started to go stale, hoping this would help things to be like when you first started dating. When you arrive to Nottingham you surprise them expecting them to be as excited as you.

“I don’t want to go.” Bella responds flatly, reading over the card you worked hard on. The plane tickets slipped inside.

“Why not?” You ask, irritation heavy on your voice.

“Because I’ve been there before so many times. Plus we can’t go anywhere without paps following you around. Surprised you made it here without being followed.” They set the card down, walking away from you.

“Would it be so bad if people knew we were dating?” You respond, Bella just looks at you unable to talk.

“I don’t understand. Every single time I try to do anything besides sit in your apartment for weeks on end you shut it down. I’m always traveling to see you. Not once have you come to LA when it wasn’t part of your job.” You speak, voice shaking. Not sure if your about to start crying or yelling. Maybe both?

“You know I don’t like LA.” Bella says only responding to part of what your just said.

“I don’t like being a secret but I do it because it’s what you want. We do things we don’t like for the people we love.” The mention of love sends tears running down your cheeks.

“Whatever.” Bella huffs pulling their phone out. Every time you tried to discuss anything uncomfortable Bella always shut down, typical.

“Fuck this.” You spit out wiping away at the tears, reaching for the card. Pulling the tickets out of the envelope and taking one. Tossing the other ticket at Bella, their face fills with confusion as they pick it up from the floor.

“I’m going to Paris with or without you. Our hotel information is in the card. You know where to find me if you want to continue whatever the fuck this is cause I’m done.” Bella doesn’t plead or try to stop you like part of you wish they had.

When your out in the hallway of their apartment complex that’s when the real waterworks start. Between tears you shoot a text to your personal body guard that had dropped you off requesting a pickup.

Your sat outside crying just long enough for some one to sneak a video of you. Posting it to twitter that day going viral, most people wondering why you were so upset. The greater half of the internet turning into a meme. So that for the rest of your existence you’d be reminded of the day your relationship with Bella ended.

A couple days later your were in Paris all by your lonesome self. You decided after two days of moping in the hotel room it was time to get your shit together. Taking a long hot shower washing the breakup off your body and out of your hair. Hadn’t heard anything from Bella which was probably for the best.

You take your time to do your make up. Spending even more time on picking an outfit out. This would be your first time making an public appearance since the video. Your manager pressing you to post something about it. When your done your body guard is waiting for you in the car outside. They drive you to the Eiffel Tower.

Your in awe as they park, the tower perfectly in your view. Your quick out of the car your body guard hurrying to catch up. Your late start to the day puts a pip in your step. Momentarily you forget about everything doing the stereotypical tourist things. Taking pictures of the tower and then photos of your self with the tower. Enlisting the help of your body guard to get better photos, laughing at their attempt.

When you finally get your phone back you scroll through the photos smiling. Until you hear your name softly, looking up your greeted by a young girl.

“Hi,” you smile. They start talking about how much they love you and your music. You thank them pulling them in for a hug, the fan not realizing how much you needed that hug.

“I know it’s none of my business but I hope whatever had you so upset in that video has been resolved or something. I just hope your feeling better, I guess that’s what I’m trying to say.” They laugh at their own words, you smile thanking them again. You ask them if they’d like a picture, your body guard snaps a few for the fan.

“Thank you,” the fan says before going to leave.

“No thank you, I appreciate you.” You respond.

—

It doesn’t take long before a small crowd of people forms wanting your attention. You talk to each one, taking photos with everyone. Thirty minutes have passed and the suns starting to set. You say you goodbyes before following the body guard to the car. In the car you scroll through all the photos you took tonight. Favoriting a few, deleting the rest and editing your favorites.

Once in the hotel room you decide it’s time to make a post. You post several photos in one post, doing a photo dump of your adventures from the last few days. The first photo you in front of the Eiffel Tower, the second a shot of the tower by itself. The third photo you crying in your hotel room, a snap chat you had sent your friend. Deciding to attach a screenshot of the video that went viral or you sobbing outside of Bella’s apartment. Ending it with an off guard photo of you laughing.

caption: if you’re going to be sad you might as well be sad in paris

—

3 Months Later

Bella’s most recent tv show has been doing so well that the entire world was tuning in every Sunday night. Expect you of course, you refused for your own well-being. It’s hard to avoid her though at this point everyone’s talking about the show. Your feed flooded constantly with posts about the show.

Clips of the Bella and their love interest had been blowing up all over TikTok flooding your for you page. Causing you to fall down a rabbit hole every time which only made their videos appear more often. The only good thing to come out of this was you spent less time on your phone.

Tour has come to an end, it was amazing but you were ready to relax. Your recent breakup was inspiring many songs, the next album coming along easily. Your visiting your parents in your home town, staying in the room you grew up in. Not much has changed since you left years ago. To your dismay your younger sibling was obsessed with Bella’s new show, begging you to watch it with them. Constantly bringing it up in conversation.

“I’m surprised you haven’t seen it. The show has girl on girl action in it.” They casually say at the kitchen table.

“Don’t refer to it as that.” You roll your eyes.

“Whatever. You’d love it. We should binge the show today and then we can watch the new episode tomorrow.” They suggest.

“I’m good.”

“That Bella girl is in it. Remember she starred in that Amazon movie you made a song for?”

“Yeah I remember.” You respond, ready for this conversation to end.

“I ship her character and her costar, Cleo. They’re so cute. I think they’re dating in real life.”

“Why do you think that?” Suddenly interested in the conversation.

“They’re always together all over social media. They look pretty much in love.” You reach for your phone pulling it out, opening instagram. Typing Bella’s at into the search bar, clicking on their profile once it pops up. Photos of Cleo filling Bella’s feed.

“There’s no fucking way.” You groan aloud, seeing the photo of the two of them hugging in front of the Eiffel Tower. The place you had begged Bella to take you to before the breakup. They refused to because they didn’t want anyone to know you were dating. Or maybe it cause they didn’t want Cleo to know? They were filming this show the entirety of your relationship with Bella.

“What?” Your sibling questions.

“Nothing.” You mutter, leaving them sat alone at the kitchen table. Straight to your bedroom you head. You find Bella’s new “friends” Instagram, taking note of the follow back button. Scrolling just far enough to find a post with your lyrics as a caption. Bella was still keeping you as a secret. You could feel your self getting angrier by the second. You had cried so much over this entire situation now only anger left.

Then noticing all the differences between you and her. Opposite colored hair and eyes. Body entirely different, looks nothing like you. Apparently Bella had a type and obviously wasn’t you. Why does Bella look so happy in this photos? Why could they be happy with you?

It all starts to click Bella was holding out for the opposite. Most likely dragging you along until they found what they actually wanted, Cleo. Even if you never left Bella that day your relationship would of never worked out, you weren’t Bella’s type. They’ve at most been dating for three months and Bella was ready to be public in Paris of all places.

That night you stay up super late. Your brain heavily inspired by the news shoved in your face this morning. After several hours you have a shell of a song deciding to title it Opposite.

♫ Oh, so you do have a type? And it's not me.

Oh, so you can reply? Just to not me.

So y'all are in Paris now? Guess it's public. ♫

—

Some time has passed since you finished writing Opposite. Normally releasing a song took months but you stressed the importance of this being done. So a week later it was upload to all steaming platforms. Within the first day it is clear it’s on its way to becoming a massive hit. You phone is flooded with compliments on the song.

The smallest part of you wondering if Bella’s heard it. Curiosity gets the better part of you, pulling up Cleo’s instagram on your secret account. Clicking her story where it shows a screenshot of your song with the caption, “Can’t stop listening to this.” You can’t help but smile thinking about Bella being forced to listen to this over and over again.

—

Weeks have passed since you released Opposite. It went number one on the second day and hasn’t left since. Your next gig is an awards show, you’ve been busy practicing. Adding Opposite into the mix among the other songs you’ll be performing.

“You think your ready for tonight?” Your agent asks.

“Yeah.” You respond, you had just finished the last rehearsal for tonight. Getting approval from the award shows reps. The show started in three hours.

“Time to get you to hair and makeup.” You nodded following your agent to your backstage room. Your name posted on the door.

Once inside your greeted by the girls who regularly did your makeup and hair. They spend a solid two hours working on you. You rush getting dressed in the red carpet dress. Just as they’re applying the finishing touches your agent comes into room notifying you that it’s time to walk the carpet.

Your walked out of the back of the building, ushered into a car. The car drives around to the entrance where everyone arrives to walk the carpet. As soon as you step out the crowd starts screaming for you. Camera flashes nearly blinding you as you walk out. Your agent is close behind guiding you through the carpet, instructing you where to stand and how long. Before you stop to do interviews you take pictures with some of the fans lined up outside.

The first two interviews you do are entirely harmless. Asking you questions about your music and if there’s a possible album on the way. You thank them when it comes to an end, quickly moving on to the next.

“You look so good tonight.” The next interviewer says.

“Aww thanks, you too!”

“Thank you. We’re really loving your new single! Is there an album in the works?”

“Perhaps.” You smile sheepishly.

“We can’t wait. You were recently turned in to a meme..” You physically cringe at the reminder.

“You we’re crying and a few months later Opposite was released. Are the two incidents related?”

“Yeah actually they are.” You laugh.

“We’ll I’m sorry you had to go through that but Opposite is a bop. That many can relate to, including me. So thank you and I can’t wait to listen to whatever you put out next.”

“Thank you. Thank you for saying that. You’re so sweet.” You say before saying your goodbyes. You move onto the next interview. Your busy answering their questions when you notice a familiar face a few spots down, it’s Bella. Cleo following closely behind. You rush through the last half of the interview, finding your agent letting them know your done.

They lead you inside where your sat at a table, where’d you be sitting until your performance. You read the name plates breathing a sigh of relief when Bella’s name isn’t on one. Your sat with other young female artists sitting fairly close to the stage. As the table starts to fill you create small talk with the girls.

You can’t help but notice Bella and Cleo enter. Cleo’s scanning the room her eyes light up when she sees you. She starts heading towards you. You turn your back to them muttering a silent fuck praying that she’s going literally anywhere else. Your prayers aren’t answered because you hear the sound of your name leaving her mouth.

“Hi.” You smile at Cleo. Bella stayed back watching the two of you intently. Probably terrified because if the math is mathin Bella was dating both of you at the same time. You could expose them in a heartbeat.

“Oh my god. I can’t believe it’s actually you. I love you so much. You’re music is everything to me. Like you have no clue.” Cleo gushes over you.

“Thank you. You’re too sweet.” Cleo asks for a photo so you agree standing up. She pulls you into a hug, any bad feelings towards her fade away. Realizing Bella’s the asshole in the situation. You pose for a quick selfie with her.

“Thank you so so so much.” Cleo pulls you into one last hug before running back to Bella. You can’t help but feel bad for her as she fangirls to Bella. Bella and Cleo sit a few tables down.

—

Your currently under the stage listening to the women who’s announcing your performance. You weren’t all that nervous until you realized Bella would be in the audience. The stage floor opens and your platform begins to rise, it’s time to go.

You start with a mashup of your most popular songs. Singing short snippets of each, moving on to the next. Hitting every note and dancing along with the back up dancers. Everything is going smoothly. Just as planned. The crowd cheers you on and most sing along. The lights go out briefly just quick enough for an outfit change. When the lights shoot back on your at the front of the stage, hands holding onto the microphone stand. The music for opposite stars, spotlight on you.

As the words spill out you can’t help but look to Bella. They look uncomfortable sat there, doing everything in their control not to look at you. As you continue signing Cleo looks happy signing with you, unaware of Bella.

♫ “She looks nothing like me. So why do you look so happy? Now I think I get the cause of it. You were holding out to find the opposite. Said I'm beautiful Was I being lied to?” ♫

You finish the rest of the song not once looking back to Bella. Too hard to look at the person who caused you so much pain. Once your done the audience erupts into applause. The host comes out greeting you.

“Damn girl that was amazing but that song is so so sad. Are you okay?” The laugh.

“I’m great actually. This is probably the coolest moment of my career.”

“Your on fire. I’d hate to be the one who hurt you.” They tease.

“Their loss.” You shrug your shoulders.

“Absolutely. Thank you for that amazing performance.” You thank the host before exiting the stage.

—

You busy changing into your final outfit of the night. A more casual dress that you can wear the rest of the night. A soft knock at the door has you looking up from the shoes your busy trying to shove on. Your entire team in near so you have no idea who it could possibly be.

“Can someone get that?” A few moments later Bella is stood there in the doorway.

“It’s Bella Ramsey.” Your assistant says. They don’t know any better because no one knows about your past with them.

“Can you give us a moment?” Your team nods leaving the room. Bella finally enters the room, keeping their distance. Wary of you might do next.

“What do you want? I don’t have much time before I have to go back out.”

“I wasn’t lying.”

“What?” You ask, confused.

“When I said your beautiful.” A laugh leaves your mouth, finding Bella’s cheesiness stupid. Bella’s phone vibrates.

“Thank I guess. Are we done?” Bella is busy looking at their phone so you ask.

“No I want to apologize-“

“Whatever you’re gonna say. Don’t.”

“Please just listen.” They plead, moving closer.

“I made a huge mistake. I should of taken you to Paris. I was a shit partner. You-” Bella rambles so you interrupt them once again.

“Don’t do this. It isn’t fair to Cleo.”

“You don’t understand the whole picture.” Bella responds their phone vibrating again.

“Seems important. You should take it and leave.”

“Not until you hear what I have to say.” They respond. You only cross your arms across your chest waiting for them to speak.

“I’ll be honest I was scared to go public with you because I knew no one would care about me and my acting. I’d always just be Y/N’s girlfriend. That’s it.”

“Doesn’t matter anyways your with Cleo.” You respond.

“Right before the last time you came to see me. Right before we wrapped up filming the director and a handful of PR pulled us into the office. Insisting that Cleo and I should pretend to date. Get more people to tune in.”

“I don’t believe that for a second.”

“It’s true. Said that fans shipped us heavily. They vaguely indirected that if we didn’t our characters might not see the next season. I was so distraught on what to do and then you came and broke it off. I took it as a sign on what to do.” Bella further explains, phone buzzing again.

“We are suppose to present an award any minute hence the persistent phone calls. I was told to announce our relationship on air tonight. I miss you so fucking much. I can’t do it knowing there’s even a slight chance you’ll forgive me.”

“This is all too much.” Is all you can manage to say letting your arms falls to your side.

“You don’t have to make your mind up right now. Just tell me not to go out there and announce it and I won’t.” You look over Bella their filled with panic.

“Don’t do it.” You whisper barely audible. Bella’s panic turns into joy. Smiling ear to ear before leaving you alone in your dressing room.

⊹ ꙳ ✦ ⁺ ‧ ⊹

thank you so much! I hope you enjoyed! If you did, please consider reblogging or leaving feedback. its all greatly appreciated and helpful!!

#bella ramsey #bella ramsey x reader #bella ramsey tlou #bella ramsey imagine #bella ramsey edit #bella ramsey fluff #bella ramsey oneshot #bella ramsey angst #bella ramsey x you

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lilydalexf · 1 year

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Old School X is a project interviewing X-Files fanfic authors who were posting fic during the original run of the show. New interviews are posted on Tuesdays.

Interview with Lydia Bower

Lydia Bower has written some true classic X-Files fics. Do yourself a favor and dig into her collection! She has 29 stories at Gossamer and 35 stories at AO3.

Does it surprise you that people are still interested in reading your X-Files fanfics and others that were posted during the original run of the show (1993-2002)?

Actually, yes, it does. With AO3 becoming the premiere spot for fanfic (rightfully so, by the way) I assumed most of the newer fans were unaware of the Gossamer Archive and the few other sites still available for the older fics. So I was delighted to come back into the fandom and see folks reccing a lot of the classics.

What do you think of when you think about your X-Files fandom experience? What did you take away from it?

I remember how incredible it felt when I initially found people who got me, who were just as stupidly invested in this weird little TV show as I was. It was like nothing else I’d ever experienced. There were message boards and newsgroup lists and email lists; anything you wanted to talk about, you could find a place to do it. I loved the post-episode discussions and would spend hours at that. We had a week (or months) between episodes, so nothing went undissected. We were all very, um, focused. Yeah, focused is as good a word as any.

And then the fanfic started showing up. That was it for me; I was all in. I can still remember going first to Vincent’s archive and it was like achieving a state of nirvana. The heavens opened up, the birds began to sing, and all was right with the world.

What did I take away from it? More friendships and good memories than I can count. That’s something I’ll carry with me for the rest of my days. Oh, and the two best imaginary friends a person can have: Mulder and Scully. I carry them too, etched indelibly on my being.

Social media didn't really exist during the show's original run. How were you most involved with the X-Files online (atxc, message board, email mailing list, etc.)?

I was involved with all of it in the beginning. I bounced from newsgroups to mailing lists to message boards to web sites. Around the 5th or 6th season it got to be a bit much since I was also doing a lot of writing then, so I narrowed things down and got the majority of my fix from The Haven message board and the smaller Primal Screamers email group.

What did you take away from your experience with X-Files fic or with the fandom in general?

As I said before, the friendships and the good times with fellow Philes. I also took away a better sense of who I am as a writer and how to use that to hone my skills. I learned how to look at media as a whole with a more critical and analytical eye and to dig beneath the surface of what I was consuming. I learned how to better express myself and maintain a cool head while in the midst of a fiery discussion. I became more confident of who I am and the worth of my opinions. I finished growing up, basically. Most of all, I learned how to just let go and enjoy being a fan of something so incredible that still connects with people almost 30 years later. That’s a legacy to be proud of.

What was it that got you hooked on the X-Files as a show?

I’ve always been drawn to the paranormal and the strange, and when I caught an ad for TXF, I made sure to tune in. The Pilot itself was enough to hook me. It was creepy and a little scary and the two leads were incredibly smart. It didn’t hurt that they were also good-looking and had smoking hot chemistry. Like the kind that jumps in through your eyeballs and settles into a low boil somewhere below the waist.

The final act of my undoing came with the episode Conduit. By the end of it I knew the show had a firm grip on my soul. Mulder captured my heart that night, too. He still has it. He’s one of a very small handful of characters I’ve encountered over the years that I just get, at a bone-deep level I can’t even begin to explain. I am him and he is me.

What got you involved with X-Files fanfic?

I’d been writing fanfic since the mid-80s but hit the proverbial wall that is writer’s block right around the time the show premiered. I wanted to write TXF fanfic from the start, but the muse wasn’t having it. She reappeared not long after The Field Where I Died first aired. I hopped around on the web a bit and found much wailing and gnashing of teeth on the shipper front. The muse decided we needed to give my fellow shippers something to make them feel better and give them a bit of hope. So I wrote Games. And the rest is history.

What is your relationship like now to X-Files fandom?

I reacquainted myself with it earlier this year after an extended absence. I walked away from the show and the fandom after my utter disappointment with the direction the show took after the 7th season. I just couldn’t choke down what TPTB were trying to feed me in S8, and completely tuned out of S9 (with the exception of the finale). I saw IWTB a couple years after it was released in theaters and watched the revival, too. Sadly, nothing I saw there made me want to dive back in. Then one night this past spring I was poking around for something to watch and caught Paper Hearts on a broadcast channel. That was all it took. That feeling I thought I’d lost came roaring back and I settled in for a complete S1-7 rewatch. I poked around looking for a spot to call home and came back to my safe place on Tumblr.

I’m neck-deep now, for however long that feeling lasts, and devoting a lot of my free time (again) to this weird little show about aliens and monsters and two people who love each other dearly. And I’m writing fanfic again - after another bout of writer’s block that lasted almost seven years.

Were you involved with any fandoms after the X-Files? If so, what was it like compared to X-Files?

I got pretty deeply involved with the Game of Thrones fandom when the show began. I was already a fan of George R.R. Martin’s A Song of Fire and Ice book series and liked what I saw the first few years. I wrote several fanfics in the ASOIAF universe, and I’m still involved, but only from the perspective of a book fan. The show went too far off the rails toward the end of its run and killed my love for it.

Compared to TXF, I think it’s a much more segmented fandom. There are several small groups built around dozens of characters there, instead of what I see in TXF fanbase as a larger, more inclusive community. I think it’s safe to say we’re all here for Mulder & Scully in one respect or another. The other characters get their share of love too, but it’s the MSR that draws us in and helps keep us here. Other than that, fangirling is fangirling. You find your tribe and take it from there.

Who are some of your favorite fictional characters? Why?

Well, let’s start with Fox Mulder, with the why of it being what I tried to explain earlier. Dana Scully, because I want to be her when I grow up, but without all the emotional and physical damage she had to endure. I’m also a fan of Sandor Clegane from ASOIAF. Stu Redman from Stephen King’s The Stand. Kevin Garvey and Nora Durst from the HBO show The Leftovers. Olivia Dunham and the Bishops from Fringe. The Three Musketeers that make up the core group of the TV show Evil. I could go on, but I don’t want to bore you. Suffice to say I’m drawn to characters who are complex, damaged, and deeply flawed, but are trying their best to do the right thing and who are ultimately perfectly imperfect human beings.

Do you ever still watch The X-Files or think about Mulder and Scully?

At present, every day. I’m very much back in over my head right now. If I’m not watching it, I’m writing about it, or talking about it. I don’t know how to obsess just a little bit when it comes to TXF and Moose and Squirrel.

Do you ever still read X-Files fic? Fic in another fandom?

Absolutely! It’s almost overwhelming how much fanfic I have to catch up on, let alone the new fics being posted daily; and all that while trying to reread some of my old favorites on Gossamer and the other OG archives. I don’t have time to read fanfics in other fandoms right now. Maybe someday.

Do you have any favorite X-Files fanfic stories or authors?

How much room do you have for this? <g> Okay, in no particular order and no doubt forgetting some folks, I’ll read anything by these OG authors: Karen Rasch, Terma99, Nascent, Jill Selby, Madeleine Partous, Meredith, Kipler, MCA, Anne Haynes (Paula Graves), Penumbra (@mashnotesofthemythopoeic), Rachel Anton, Joyce McKibben, Tim Scott, Darwin_xf (@darwin-xf), Suzanne Schramm, Prufrock’s Love, Sue Barringer, Mustang Sally, Rivkat, Dianora, Plausible Deniability, A.I. Irving, Rachel Howard, MD1016, Punk Maneuverability (@seepunkrun), bugs, Dasha K (@dashakay), Khyber, Blackwood, and OneMillionAndNine.

As far as new to me authors (OG or not), these folks are also talented wordsmiths: leiascully (@leiascully), Aloysia_Virgata (@aloysiavirgata), audries, and lepusarcticus (@lepus-arcticus). I’m sure there are more great authors out there, but I haven’t had as much time as I’d like to dig into the newer stuff on AO3.

What is your favorite of your own fics, X-Files and/or otherwise?

TXF: Pass You By, Light Don’t Sleep, Red Letter Day, Primal Sympathy, In the Ruins, Dance Without Sleeping, and Incomplete. I’ll stop there but please understand that they’re all my babies and I love them equally. I’m also very fond of the Let Everything Happen to You series I recently completed.

ASOIAF: These Scars We Wear, The Calling, Beggar’s Banquet.

Do you think you'll ever write another X-Files story? Or dust off and post an oldie that for whatever reason never made it online?

I’m doing both. I’ve written and posted 10 new fanfics since I came back into the fold and I’m working on another one right now. I also have a casefile WIP I’m struggling with that I began during the early part of S4 and set aside when the cancer arc reared its head.

I’m also in the process of bringing all my older stuff from Gossamer and my defunct website over to AO3. I think I still have 2 or 3 shorter pieces still to be moved and one post-Fight the Future fic I wrote that’s lost somewhere on the net. If anyone has a copy of my fanfic titled Shift laying around, please give me a holler! [Lilydale note: Fic found! I had a copy and sent it to Lydia.]

Do you still write fic now? Or other creative work?

See above!

Where do you get ideas for stories?

From the ether. Seriously. Something, whether it be a line of dialogue, a question, an image, or a scene, will just pop into my head and demand my time. I’ve written 6,000-word fanfics just to slip in a single line. I don’t know how the muse works or why; I’m just along for the ride.

What's the story behind your pen name?

I always published under my own name until I set up my AO3 account. I went with wonderland there because I’m like Alice when I’m writing: I fall down the rabbit hole into Wonderland and enter a different reality.

Do your friends and family know about your fic and, if so, what have been their reactions?

Yeah, they know I write it but not where to find it. Though I suppose a Google search would make it easy enough to locate. My family and friends have always been supportive of my writing, albeit confused that I’ve chosen to write fanfic instead of “real” fiction. Yeah, I know.

Is there a place online (tumblr, twitter, AO3, etc.) where people can find you and/or your stories now?

wonderland on AO3

@amplifyme on Tumblr

amplifyme271 on the bird app

Lydia Bower everywhere else

Thanks for your invitation, Lilydale, this was fun!

#new post #old school x #xfiles fanfic #xf fanfic #lydia bower

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applestorms · 11 months

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in writing my response to @tipsygnostalgy's most recent dirkjake essay post, i accidentally wrote my own mini-essay. here's a little sneak peak since i dunno if i'll be able to finish this one tonight:

I’ve been thinking a lot about what Dirk says to Jane during their conversation post-Tricksters (A6A5A1x2:5830):

TT: We were all designated for a session that was utterly inert. TT: A place where the mechanisms for success never even existed to begin with. TT: In such a place it makes sense that the formal leader would be neutralized, to made feel unempowered and static. TT: And it seems particularly fitting she would be the noble of life in a realm of the dead. TT: A realm that foretold of a life player who felt lifeless, a hope player who felt hopeless, and a heart player who was just a stone cold motherfucker.

I feel like this conversation gets misread a lot, particularly in that people will often ignore the fact that Dirk is clearly biased in terms of his praise/idolization of Roxy and disregard for/blatant hatred of himself. Because the thing is- Jake isn’t hopeless, if anything he’s fuckin overflowing with hope when it comes to believing in other people, it’s just that he completely lacks that same belief when it comes to himself. Act Omega really got that part right, imo, with the fact that Jake really does need the reassurance that other people (namely, Dirk) believe in him in order to be empowered to actually start being active. “Learned helplessness” is the idea that comes to mind for me, one of the key ways that Jake is put into the stereotypical “woman’s role” is in the fact that he feels like he can never be direct in getting what he wants. But actually, I think Jake is pretty active, he just does it in stupidly subtle ways so that he can avoid having to take responsibility for literally anything. That conversation with Jane, for example- he still manipulates Jane into friendzoning herself, therefore getting what he wants (Dirk), he just muddles the waters enough that he doesn’t have to take responsibility for hurting her by rejecting her.

I think Jane actually is thematically a good representative of the alphas, in the same way that John is for the betas (and really all kids, but Johnny is special cause he was #1), it’s just that you have to look at her class, not her aspect. Maids are typically understood as overflowing with their aspect, literally made of it, causing them to have a very close, personal relationship with it but also putting a strain on their relationship with others because of it. The word “maid” also brings to mind servitude to others, which is big for the Megidos & their history w/ Doc Scratch.

While Jane struggles a lot with giving (life) to others, I still think the Maid class really is relevant to all of the alphas, especially Dirk and Jake but also kinda Roxy. This is where I think Dirk is ever so slightly off in his interpretation of their session- it’s not that they’re lacking their aspect, they can’t stop giving it away in service of each other honestly, it’s that they can’t give the same help to themselves.

Jake fervently believes in his friends, he has to if he wants them to be real as you said above, and it’s ultimately all very selfish, but he cannot believe in himself to the point where he needs to create a fucking intricately detailed copy of his boyfriend to tell all of his thoughts to him before he can believe they’re true. Dirk is fucking overflowing with love for his friends, his introduction to the comic is making sure Jane is alright, he holds onto Roxy and seems to be almost as devastated as she is that he can’t love her the way that she wants him to, Jake, but he absolutely cannot give that same affection and sympathy to himself. Roxy holds the group together, yes, but I think it’s in a very different way than Karkat and his blood aspect- she is the confidant that everyone talks to and everyone can confide their secrets in (regardless of how well she keeps them- sorry Jane, lol), she is void in that she is the keeper of secrets but also in that, by getting people to communicate and giving them advice, she takes away the void/confusion and helps them see a better path. However she cannot hold her own secrets, doesn’t have anyone else to confide in in the way that she wants to (Dirk gets it but doesn’t love her that way, Jane doesn’t believe her, Jake) and passively aggressively lashes out because of it.

It’s their fundamental flaw and the motivation behind the lies in their introductions and their problems with miscommunication. They love each other so fucking dearly, care so agonizingly much about one another, but can’t deal with themselves, can barely even face a mirror. It's the void session: heart is locked off, hope is twisted into something strange, and life has already long-since ended. The reason why Roxy is able to rise above all that shit is because she chooses to engage with her own issues, to face her alcoholism and shitty behavior head on and Deal With It, in a way that the others simply aren’t.

#astronaut rambles #hs #you can tell i'm writing in a totally different context cause this has proper capitalization LMFAO #can you tell i've recently begun leaning towards maid of heart as a classpect for myself #dunno if that's really the case i'll probably change it in half a week if i know myself but let's fuckin gooooooooo

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sinelanguage · 6 months

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20 questions for fic writers

taking from @fivedayslater who tagged anyone for this, i'll also pass around to 'anyone who wants to answer these questions is effectively tagged' but also @lostlegendaerie, @sharpenote specifically.....

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

36! not too shabby considering i'm not super consistent about writing.

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

257,465! wow. jeez.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently One Piece, historically Voltron.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

predictably: this is almost entirely Keith/Lance.

Stormchasing: Keith/Lance handcuffed together fic i tried to pace like an actual episode! posting early in the fandom’s lifecycle gave it staying power, lol.

The Hustle: Keith/Lance espionage/heist-ish fic i cowrote with a friend. Really fun premise, and it was fun to co-write something!

Good Grief: Keith/Lance 5+1. i don’t remember anything about this.

Tallies: Keith/Lance 5+1. look… i wrote a lot of these.

Interstate 80: It’s not Klance! Jean/Marco, roadtrip modern day AU. i wrote this as a teenager, and i do not think this holds up whatsoever, but i made a lot of close friends through this fic and i'm fond of it solely due to that, haha.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

i try! i have like, a half-life where if a fic is more than a year old i probably won’t respond because i’ve probably forgotten anything interesting to say.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Haha i wrote a hunger games AU for Attack on Titan? i don’t know what possessed me to take Jean Kirstein out of one horribly depressing canon and into another horribly depressing canon.

Outside of that, i tend to stick to relatively happy or neutral endings. Most recently, Time Turned Fragile probably has the angstiest ending but i’d classify it as bittersweet really, even though Sanji like. dies? look. don’t worry about it

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Uhhh??? this is harder to answer … Inaba’s Self-Appointed Cat Adoption Agency is a fic that is probably the fluffiest thing i’ve ever written and as such has the most feel-good fluffy ending as a result.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

not really! i’ve gotten a-bit-too-bold concrit in bookmark notes, but i wouldn’t really consider that hate.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Nah lol. (gestures to weaknesses answer) it is not my forte, and i’m not super interested.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

not typically! I did write Turnabout Heart, which is a brief Persona 5 / Ace Attorney crossover, because I thought Sae being friends with Mia would be neat.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

ah, i found someone reposting my fic to wattpad once (username still attached). i just gently told them it was in bad form lol, it was wattpad in 2017 or so so I’m sure it was just some kid haha. they apologized and deleted it and their other stolen stuff so it’s all good.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope! Someone offered once, but never got back around to me.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes! The Hustle from above, and for better or for worst which was a fun last hurrah for Keith/Lance.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

It’s really funny because i’ve never written for any of my all time ships lol. Ike/Soren is maybe my ship of all time. Keith/Lance i’m still stupidly fond of despite myself. i never even finished Voltron.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

this has historically been time loop fics, but I wrote two this year!!!!! Congrats to me!!

Currently i’ve been working on a Robin-centric Robin and Sanji roleswap fic, and while i have a good grasp on the emotional/plot arcs involved it is not easy to write Robin POV lol. i can only write characters who are more emotionally stupid than me. i keep chugging away at it though.

for one I know I'll never finish: I have a brief outline/scenes written for a Professor Sada/Robot Professor Sada (haha. lol. sorry.) fic that would be titled Stochastic Parent as a play on the machine learning term 'stochastic parrot', i.e. the principle that AI does not truly understand language, merely parrots it back to the user. i could not figure out how to write this without being on the nose.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Bizarrely i really like writing action scenes hahahaahaha. It’s one of the few scenes in fic i really fully visualize, so translating that is fun. emotions in a fight are fun too, i like writing fear.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

The main one: romance! More specifically though, physical intimacy. hilarious to write mostly romance fic and be bad at it. i’ve been actively avoiding writing kissing scenes for the last 10 fic or so. at this point i’m trying to see how long i can go without one.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Think it’s incredibly neat to see but i don't think i'll ever do it. i feel like i need to return my linguist card for this answer....

19. First fandom you wrote for?

some different answers here: Fire Emblem (never finished or posted online), Harvest Moon (posted on deviantArt and deleted when i scorched my warrior cats username from the face of the earth), and Attack on Titan (first fic on ao3)

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

All time it’s Dead Horizon. i got to write a lot of fun environmental storytelling and horror in that one, and I liked the emotional arc overall. i really like environments/settings in terms of storytelling, and i don’t get the chance to write much of that since i stick with shorter one shots typically. Still very, very fond of it.

Recent stuff it’s Same As It Ever Was. i’ve wanted to do a Once in a Lifetime themed timeloop for ages but I kept dropping the concept, until now! Finally I wrote a scene based off the ‘not my beautiful house, not my beautiful wife’ lyric! dream come true.

#ask game #personal

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cosmicjoke · 1 year

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I’m dyin’, bro. I’m dyin’. God damn...

So... I got to the part where Lestat returns to Gretchen in the rain forest in South America, and I sincerely mean it, I don’t think I’ve ever been more messed up by anything I’ve ever read. This just eviscerated my heart. Everything I’ve been saying in every post I’ve made about this book up until now seems confirmed and to reach it’s climactic, tragic conclusion here. I’m just devastated.

Of course, this had eerie and heartbreaking similarities to Louis’ encounter with Babette from “IWTV”, when he reveals himself to her finally, after helping her for so long, and her reaction to him is one of total fear and horror. The same exact thing happens to Lestat here with Gretchen, and it’s just... I don’t have the words.

This whole scene is such an awful, breathtakingly sad affirmation for Lestat of all his worst beliefs about himself, this affirmation for him of his monstrosity, of his evil.

The way it plays out, with Lestat once again having visions of Claudia, laughing at him, telling him how he’s going to hurt Gretchen, and him begging her to leave, swearing he doesn’t want to hurt her at all, it feels genuinely like Lestat is suffering from post traumatic stress. The way he keeps seeing the hospital he took Claudia from so long ago, the way he keeps seeing Claudia herself, and envisioning her laughter and her condemnations of him, it’s like shell shock, like he’s suffering flashbacks of this traumatic moment, haunted by his own sense of guilt and horror at what he’s done, at what he is, at this thing he’s chosen to once again become.

But just... Gretchen’s reaction to Lestat, the way he tries to tell her who he is, to implore with her to believe him, that he was telling her the truth, and just to see her recoil from him, and call him a liar, just this total, horrific rejection from her of him, I just... can’t believe how tragic this was. Because it’s like the confirmation of this belief in Lestat that to be what he is, to be who he is, is to be unloved. That to be who he is is to be alone. She sees him in his true form, and she hates him, she reviles him. He had this woman’s love, and now she’s utterly repulsed by him, and terrified of him, and sees him as a demon and a devil. It’s so fucked up. It so fucking sad.

The imagery of Lestat holding out the money to her, trying to give it to her to help with her mission, was one of the saddest, most heartrending visuals I think I’ve ever read.

“I’m here, Gretchen. I’ve come to thank you. Here, let me give you this for your mission.”

Stupidly, I reached into my pockets; I withdrew the lucre of the Body Thief in thick handfuls and held it out, my fingers trembling as her fingers trembled, the money looking soiled and foolish, like so much rubbish.

“Take it, Gretchen. Here. I twill help the children.”

And then this fucking part, after she keeps questioning him again and again as to who he is, despite him trying over and over to tell her...

“Lestat, whom you nursed in your own house, Gretchen. Gretchen, I’ve recovered my true form. I came because I promised you I would come.”

I could scarcely bear it, my old anger kindling as the fear intensified in her, as her shoulders stiffened and her arms came tightly together, and the hand clenching the chain at her neck began to shake.

“I don’t believe you,” she said, in the same strangled whisper, her entire body recoiling though she did not even take a step.

“No, Gretchen. Don’t look at me in fear or as if you despise me. What have I done to you that you should look at me that way? You know my voice. You know what you did for me. I came to thank you-”

“Liar!”

“No, that’s not true. I came because... because I wanted to see you again.”

Lord God, was I weeping? Were my emotions now as volatile as my power? And she would see the blood in streaks on my face and it would scare her even more. I could not bear to look in her eyes.

And then she starts really railing against him, and again, this whole section just screwed me up man

“Gretchen, don’t be afraid of me. In the name of truth, look at me. You made me promise I would come. Gretchen, I didn’t lie to you. You saved me. I am here, and there is no God, Gretchen, you told me so. From anyone else it wouldn’t have mattered, but you said it yourself.”

Her hands went to her lips as she drew back, the little chain falling loose so that I saw the gold cross in the candle’s light. Oh, thank God, a cross not a locket! She stepped back again. She could not stop the impulsive motion.

Her words came in a low faltering whisper:

“Get away from me, unclean spirit! Get out of this house of God!”

“I won’t hurt you!”

“Get away from these little ones!”

“Gretchen. I won’t hurt the children.”

“In the name of God, get away from me... go.”

“... Go out of this house. God himself protects it. He protects the children. Go.”

“In the name of truth, Gretchen,” I answered, my voice as low as hers, and as full of feeling. “I lay with you! I am here.”

“Liar,” she hissed. “Liar!” Her body was shaking so violently, it seemed she would loser her balance and fall.

“No, it’s the truth. If nothing else is true, it’s true. Gretchen, I won’t hurt the children. I won’t hurt you.”

And then finally, when Gretchen bolts out of the hospital past him, and Lestat again sees the apparition of Claudia, and she says to him

“I told you you would hurt her.”

This almost violent rejection from this same woman whom Lestat had spoken so deeply with on philosophy, on God and goodness and redemption. Her telling him there is no God, and him saying to her here how it only mattered because a person as good as her would say it, to give him that kind of hope in goodness without God, without there needing to be a larger purpose than the act itself, this same woman who cried at his parting from her before, who wanted so desperately to see him again. And now when he shows her his true self, she just flat out calls him a devil and a liar and wants him away from her. She turns once again to God to save her from him.

Like, damn, just the rejection upon rejection upon rejection Lestat goes through in this story is really, really hard to take. Because with each instant of it happening, you can see it sinking him further and further into this belief of his own monstrosity, his own unworthiness of love, his own evil. It’s almost obscene to watch him go through this level and this amount of rejection, especially when you know, more than anything else, that it’s Lestat’s loneliness and isolation that hurts him above all, that it’s that very loneliness which drove him to such reckless actions throughout this story to begin with, this awful, overwhelming belief of his that he’s this monstrous, unlovable thing, that the very nature of him, of what he is, drives everyone he loves to despair, or destruction, to to simply leave him... it just... it’s so painful. It’s so, so painful.

And this negative self-image that just keeps getting over and over ground into him by seemingly everyone he loves, we see manifested too in Lestat’s thoughts as he observes Reglan James, before he recovers his body from him. That he shows so much compassion for this person who took so much from him and put him through so much suffering is in itself heartbreaking.

The creature took no notice of me. Indeed, I soon realized he was taking no notice of anyone. There was something almost poignant in the way he sat there, face slightly uplifted, apparently enjoying this dark and fairly ordinary and certainly ugly little place.

He loves it here, I thought. These public rooms with their plastic and tinsel represent some pinnacle of elegance, and he is silently thrilled merely to be here. He does not even need to be noticed. He takes no notice of anyone who might notice. He is a little world unto himself as this ship is such a world, speeding along so very fast through the warm seas.

Even in my fear, I found it heartbreaking suddenly and tragic. And I wondered had I not seemed the very same tiresome failure to others when I was in that shape? Had I not seemed just as sad.

He was looking heavenward as he stood there, and once again he seemed lost in pride and in contentment, loving the wind and the darkness, perhaps, and swaying just a little, as blind musicians sway when they play their music, as if he relished every ticking second in that body, simply swimming in pure happiness as he stood on that spot.

The heartbreaking sense of recognition passed over me again. Did I seem the same wasteful fool to those who had known me and condemned me? Oh, pitiful, pitiful creature to have spent his pretanatural life in this of all places, so painfully artificial, with its old and sad passengers, in unremarkable chambers of tawdry finery, insulated from the great universe of true splendors that lay beyond.

Only after a great while did he bow his head just a little, and run the fingers of his right hand slowly down his jacket lapel. A cat licking its own fur had never looked more relaxed or self-indulgent. How lovingly he stroked this bit of unimportant cloth! It was more eloquent of the whole tragedy than any other single thing he had done.

Peace to the happy Queen Elizabeth 2, I thought, and than again, I knew why the Body Thief had loved her, and hidden himself within her, sad and tawdry though she was.

After all, what is our entire world to the stars above? What do they think of our tiny planet, I wondered, full of mad juxtaposition, happenstance, and endless struggle, and the deep crazed civilization sprawled upon the face of it, and held together not by will or faith or communal ambition but by some dreamy capacity of the world’s millions to be oblivious to life’s tragedies and again and again sink into happiness, just as the passengers of that little ship sank into it- as if happiness were as natural to all beings as hunger or sleepiness or love of warmth and fear of the cold.

I rose higher and higher until I could no longer see the ship at all. Clouds raced across the face of the world below me. And above, the stars burned through in all their cold majesty, and for once I didn’t hate them; no, I couldn’t hate them; I could hate nothing; I was too full of joy and dark bitter triumph. I was Lestat, drifting between hell and heaven, and content to be so- perhaps for the first time.

Lestat too of course has always tried to drown out his loneliness and pain through indulgence in finery and luxury and experience, has tried to express his love through bestowing wealth and gifts upon those he loves, only to again and again face their rejections. Within the first few nights of him becoming a vampire, he gave Nicki and his own family wealth and comfort. He poured money into the theater he had worked at and later on, gave as much money as requested to Armand and his coven. He splurged and spoiled Claudia endlessly. And here, again, he tries to give Gretchen money as an expression of his love and gratitude. And in every single one of these instances, he’s faced, it seems inevitably, with their rejection, with their hatred, with their disdain.

This last line of chapter 24

“Good-bye, Gretchen,” I whispered.

And then I was gone, free and alone, into the warm embrace of savage night.”

This says it all, really. Free and alone. Lestat couldn’t sacrifice the freedom of being himself. But to be himself, to be free, again, means to be alone, means to be forever without companionship. He thinks of himself a wasteful fool, and a tiresome failure as he looks upon Reglan James in his own body, his own form. He thinks that must be what he seems like to the others whom he’s loved. That what he sees when he looks at Reglan James must be what others see when they look at him.

Someone said in the tags of one of my last posts that this story is a study in self-loathing, and that’s exactly what it is. It captures all the anguish and tragedy of what it is, to hate oneself.

And the loneliness Lestat experiences from that feeling can only be described as profound.

#Lestat De Lioncourt #The Tale of the Body Thief #The Vampire Chronicles

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brightlycoloredteacups · 2 years

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The King of Traitors

Series: Brynhilda’s Saga

Pairing: Ivar x OFC

A/N: I’ve been working on this little by little and hadn’t realized I hadn’t posted in forever...um....oops?

Warnings: Canon typical violence.

Brynhilda had never been nervous before battle. Perhaps it was because she’d never led an army before. Sure, she led the charge, but she didn't have to give orders, all she had to do was fight. Now men looked at her expectantly. It’s a small group, pitifully so, but she sent the bulk of her forces with Alf to take down another Jarl with more men. Gods, she realized after an eternity, they want me to give a speech. “Remember,” she starts, “we didn't come here to slaughter the people,” she gulps what had they come here for? To kill the jarl, of course, but that didn't sound very inspiring. Her panic rises as she continues spouting inspirational bullshit, “We came to right wrongs. To put things back into order.” Yes, that sounded right, it sounded better anyway. The words come out easier now, so much so, they don’t sound like her at all. “We came on behalf of those that can't fight, that won't fight, so we could free them from Boggvir.” It was a half truth, a great many people were fed up with Boggvir's mismanagement. That was how her army had swollen so quickly. Now was the time to capitalize on that. “Today, is the beginning of the end of Boggvir, he will die, painfully, just as he deserves, We will see it done.” Her men grunt and nod in agreement, careful to keep quiet in the predawn morning. “Victory,” she growls ending her speech, “or Valhalla.” Her men whisper it back to her.

At the caw of her raven, they begin the dangerous trek over the ice. It's the dead of winter and they were freezing thanks to the long trek around the village. They were coming up through the harbor as it was frozen solid. Admittedly it was also the least protected. Who the hell was going to take over a town via the frozen harbor? It was dangerous. They could slip through the ice at any moment. Because of this, they moved slowly, ears tuned for the telltale sound of cracking ice. One wrong step, one solid gust of wind, any unforeseen danger, unplanned for snag, and they might as well be done for. She only relaxes when they reach the beach.

Silently, they make their way to the jarl's longhouse. Lucking out, they made it without any sort of fuss. The village had been stupidly unguarded. Apparently Falki didn’t feel the need to protect her people. It seemed that Jarl Falki was throwing a party for whatever reason she felt like. Who the fuck throws a part this early in the morning? Or was it this late at night? Shit, Brynhilda thinks, it’s just my luck, Falki sitting pretty in an enclosed space where it would be harder to fight. Out in the streets they could spread out, run around and get the upper hand. Inside it was a completely different story. Too many ways to get trapped and killed. Growling, she sheaths her sword. “My lady?” Someone calls, obviously confused. They were there to kill Falki, not play nice. She winces, gods she wished she wasn't a leader. “Well, we can't be rude,” she says, smirking to hide her nerves, “we're crashing the party after all,” her men chuckle. Brynhilda straightens up as much as she can. Gathering her courage, she can't help but feel that this is the stupidest idea she ever had, but with nothing stopping her, and no one else giving her any ideas, she walks through the front door.

All conversation stops from the moment she and her men enter. “Falki!” She says, opening her arms not giving the other woman time to register what in the hel was going on, “so good to see you my friend!” Falki is a small woman with red hair and a mean face. Her men looked equally as mean. All stood with weapons at the ready, despite being up all night and most of them being very drunk. Before her men could pull their own weapons out, she motioned for them to stop. “Here's the deal,” she says, daring to walk further into the longhouse. She's exposed, but she has to take this chance. “All I want is Falki's head,” Falki scoffs, “It will never happen,” the red head declares. Brynhilda ignores her. “No one but her has to die today,” Brynhilda turns to the biggest threat in Falki’s little group. She singles him out as leader the moment she entered the room, if she can get him to throw down his weapon, the others will surely follow. “You can join me, or become my enemy, what do you say?” She walks up to the man, reaching out to him for a handshake, “Friends?” She smirks in her nervousness. Stupid, she thinks, stupid, stupid, stupid. He isn't going to fall for it, I know he won't

Just as she thinks to move her hand towards her sword, the man in front of her slackens his stance, puts his weapon away, and grasps her hand in a firm shake. “Friends,” he agrees. Brynhilda smiles, not daring to believe her luck. Things could go sideways at any moment.

Before Falki cam even register the betrayal, Brynhilda's ax, a secondary weapon she hardly used, flies with deadly accuracy across the room, catching the red head right between the eyes. Things are deathly quiet. “Well?” Brynhilda says, surprised at how easy things had gone, “let's eat!”

Midday, and Brynhilda is exhausted. She's been waiting anxiously for news of the other half of her people. Had they won? Had they failed? She didn't think so, one of her ravens had departed with Alf to keep an eye on things and it hadn't reported back yet. They still must be fighting.

A few hours ago the village had awoken to find Falki's head on a pike, just as Brynhilda had promised. She had been ready for a fight, a skirmish, even a few complaints. However, as word spread of Falki’s death and people began to gather around the longhouse to stare in wonderment, nothing came of it. In fact, just as she was sure a riot was going to break out, people began to cheer. It took her longer than she wanted to admit to realize they were chanting her name.

From there life had gone on as always. As news of her victory further spread through the village and beyond, people kept coming in to see her. Mostly children, but women and men as well. A great many of them pledging their sword arms to her. She hated it, she wanted to crawl into furs and sleep the day away. It was the anxiety of not knowing about her other men combined with the looks of utter adoration on people’s faces. Boggvir had raised her to believe they all feared her. Because of that fear they hated her. It was just another lie he told to control her. She half thought of asking Dorfi to try his sleeping spell again, but she knew it wouldn't work.

Just as she thought she was going to go mad with anxiety the doors burst open. Alf walked in, not a scratch on him, her raven perched neatly on his shoulder. “It would seem your plan worked,” he declared, “though not as one would think.”

“No one fought you?” Brynhilda asks incredulously. Alf shakes his head, sitting heavily in a chair. “Not a one, in fact, once everyone realized whose army was taking over, they began to cheer.” She nodded, “Much the same happened here,” She was quiet as she thought it over, three territories captured. Two to go. It’s funny how she’s beginning to understand Boggvir's fear. If people follow her this readily as his enemy, what might she have done as his ally? It didn't matter, all that mattered was the end. “Get Dorfi and the others, we have a battle to plan,”

“You're staring into space again,” Dorfi says, nudging her. Brynhilda merely grunts, coming back to the present. Right, battle plans. “Who occupies your thoughts?” Alf teases, feeling giddy that the day had been won so easily, “your lover from Lattegat?” Brynhilda's hand goes up to Ivar's pendant automatically. “It doesn't matter who he was, he's dead now.” And besides, that wasn’t what she’d been thinking about. She had been day dreaming about her parents and brothers. She was curious to know if they were proud of her. They had to be, right? Someone had to be proud of her.

“Killed by your hand for an affair no doubt.” Dorfi says, not wanting to be left out. Brynhilda leans back in her chair, trying to relieve the ache in her back. “No, he went off on an ill advised raid. And he is dead. As is this conversation.” the two men nod, getting the hint.

“Right, Boggvir's men outnumber us three to one despite all the ground we’ve covered.” Alf says. “Your numbers swell everyday, but we need to attack while the advantage is ours.”

“We need to fight smarter, not harder.” Dorfi reminds her. Brynhilda chews at her lip, this is all true. But she wasn’t one for planning things out. She was just a weapon to be used, not an intellectual. Even so, an idea begins to take hold. “Boggvir has an ego as big as a giant. He probably thinks I'll just charge into battle. We can use this to our advantage.”

“How do you propose to do that?” Dorfi asks, “you won't see his army laying down their weapons just because you're Brynhilda the Deathless.”

“I don't expect them to.” She says, happy she managed to keep the edge from her voice. Dorfi got under her skin, she didn't trust him fully, and he always had the opposite opinion she did. But if she was to be a leader, she needed people who disagreed with her, to make her consider all angles.

“Boggvir is predictable, he lays his army camp out the same way every time. I can almost guarantee he'll situate himself at the Cliff of Cliffs.”

“Excuse me? The what now?” Alf asks, not even bothering to hide his snicker. Brynhilda sends him a glare, “I was ten when I named it, it was the biggest cliff I ever saw at that point in my life.” Alf laughs at her, as do the other men. She feels her cheeks heat up but she reminds herself they weren’t necessarily laughing at her, more like they were laughing at her logic. Her irritation eases. They felt comfortable laughing at her because they saw her as someone likable. Was it possible these people saw her for more than what she was? She liked the thought of that, but tried desperately not to let it get to her head. She’d allowed her pride to lead her blindly before, never again.

Brynhilda's plan was simple. So simple in fact, she doubted it would work, but she had to try. If nothing, she would at least be sung about in a saga. Maybe. She found she didn't care.

Braiding her hair carefully, preparing for battle, her thoughts turned to the subject of death. She had been evading it since her family was slaughtered for their land when she was ten years old. She almost succumbed to the Valkyries when she was left hanging from the altar. Apparently though, she had been spared by Odin. She was a part of some grand design.

Her name, her story, the idea of her had now reached mythical proportions. They whispered her epithet, The Deathless behind their hands, looking at her in awe. Every tragic episode in her life adding to her legend. The death of her parents, her first kill when she was ten in revenge for that death. The Blood Eagle ritual that hadn’t been completed, and now the ease with which she had come back from some place unknown, healed and stronger than ever. It sounded fantastical, even to her, and she had lived it all.

But what if this was to be her last battle? What if Odin had been setting up one long lesson for her about her pride just to pull everything she worked for right from under her? What if Aslaug's prediction was wrong?

She grabs the pendant hanging from her neck, giving it a lingering kiss. “I wonder if you're watching over me, my love.” She smiles at the memory of his perfectly blue eyes. It was the only thing she remembered accurately. “I hope you are. Perhaps I will join you soon,” Dorfi pokes his head through her tent flaps, “Are you ready?” She stands, wolf pelt upon her shoulders, bear shield in her hand, and sword at her side. “Victory,” she whispers, “or Valhalla.”

The Cliff of Cliffs hugged a valley rather than the sea. It had a simple cave system. That Brynhilda had explored as a child. From the information she’d gathered, thanks to a recon mission, she knew that Boggvir’s men were situated right against the cliff, next to a crack that opened right in the middle of the camp. He was trying to cover his back so he could watch out for his front. She had planned something entirely unexpected for someone like her. She though too much like Boggvir. Direct, powerful attacks had been his forte. She had to do the opposite. She had to be sneaky and whittle down the numbers before she attacked head on. To sew a little chaos amongst the ranks of Boggvir was her goal.

Brynhilda’s force is small, excluding herself, there were seven in total that followed her. Alf, Dorfi, and five others that had volunteered to go on a virtual suicde mission. The other men in her army had other tasks.

Standing in front of the opening that would take them through the systems and lead them to Boggvir’s army, she turns to her people, “Remember, you can take as much as you can carry, but destroy supplies. Keep as quiet as you can, for as long as you can. If you get caught, I won't be saving you.” Everyone nods in understanding. “Good, lets go.”

There were other groups prowling that night to help with creating confusion.. One such group busied themselves with setting up traps in the forest. In the early morning, they’d try to get some of Boggvir’s men to follow them for a skirmish, and neutralize a small portion of the army with said traps. Another group was situated on top of the cliff, ready to fire arrows down at the enemy at a random time in the night. Yet another group was going to try and lead a small group of the enemy into a small skirmish to the south, no traps this time.

Brynhilda didn’t have the bulk Boggvir did, even now, at the height of her popularity. She had to resort to guerilla tactics for the next few hours in the hopes of weakening the enemy, tiring them out, depleting some of the massive army.

So many opportunities for things to go wrong...yet the reward was worth it.

Brynhilda leads her group through the caves with no problem, out the otherside with only the smallest of sounds. When she finally saw the last person out of the cave, she hisses,“Find cover, quickly.” They do as told, following her behind a stack of food. She looks at them, “spread out, start destroying supplies. Food, weapons, shields. Throw things into the ravine, steal things, I don't care. Get going.” Everyone disperses at her orders. They had one hour to complete their tasks before the attacks began. Then, they either get caught in the fight, or they escape without a scratch.

Brynhilda is on edge the entire hour. Anything could go wrong. Luck holds with her, however. She manages to find weapons just laying around the camp, just as she expected. It’s a pity that she has to give Boggvir this sorely needed reality check.

Her confidence is slowly returning as time passes. She can do this, they can do this. A soft caw from one of the crows that perpetually follows her tells her it's time to go. She rushes back to the hole in the cliff, seeing most of her group. “Where is Dorfi?” She asks. “We don't know,” Alf tells her, “lost I expect.” Brynhilda curses. “Go back to the camp, I'll find Dorfi.”

“What happened to you not saving us if we got caught?” Alf says, smirking, “Clearly I lied.”

“I saw him go towards the edge of the camp, toward the log trap.” A woman tells her. Brynhilda nods by way of thanks and turns to head back towards the interior of camp, stopping when her group moves with her. “Go back,” she hisses. “Not without you,” Alf says. “Look-” Brynhilda begins to argue, but Alf cuts her off, “Don't bother arguing. We aren't leaving without you.”

“Well, don't blame me when we're still stuck here when things go to shit.” Brynhilda mutters, moving herself and her group towards the edge of the camp. It occurs to her that Dorfi really might be working for Boggvir, thus leading her into a trap. She grips her sword tighter, she'd behead him if that were the case.

She doesn't have to wonder about it long though, as she hears Dorfi's voice through a tent. “I don't know anything about Brynhilda.” he says defiantly. She keeps the smirk off her face. He could just be saving his own skin, Odin knew he didn’t owe any loyalty to Boggvir. “Oh? She didn't send you here to curse us all?” Someone sneers. Their voice is gruff, someone she doesn't recognize. She motions of her people to surround the tent. “Do you really think Brynhilda is someone that believes in curses?” Dorfi argues.

“Yes.” The unseen man says matter of factly. There was an awkward pause, “Do you think Brynhilda is someone who would use curses?” Dorfi rephrased. “Look, we all know Brynhilda wants us dead, but-” she steps into the tent for dramatic effect, cutting off the man’s tirade by running him through with her sword. She’s angry when she sees Dorfi beaten and bloodied. For a moment, she has to wonder if he really kept her secrete despite the torture. “You're right, I do want you dead,” she mutter to the body on the ground.

Dorfi looks at her, smiling. He gets off his knees and stumbles out of the tent. Sheathing her sword, she follows him, bringing out a dagger from its holster and cuts his restraints. “What happened to not coming to save our asses?” Dorfi asks, delighted. Brynhilda just pats his shoulder.

They were going to sneak back to the cliff, but the ravens kick up a fuss, the signal for the other groups to start their skirmishes. “Shit,” she mutters. Everyone readies their weapons, “There isnt enough time to escape,” Dorfi warns her, watching as people are now pouring from the tents, wondering why the fuck ravens are awake in the middle of the night.

“Tight circle,” Brynhilda instructs, bringing her shield in front of her. They form a tight ring as shouts of intruders begin to go up, now alerted to their presence. Men begin to surround them, no one attacking yet. “Brynhilda, I don't like this,” Alf mutters, “Oh really?” She snaps, “What's not to like? We're trapped in the middle of the enemy encampment, ready to be killed. What’s not to like?”

“Someone's testy,” Alf mutters, “She needs a nap,” Dorfi explains, “she gets cranky without her beauty rest.”

“I hate you both.” She mutters, bracing herself for a fight. The dam of tension breaks as soon as a random enemy charges at her and hits her shield. Everyone begins to shout, fight, run. Its utter chaos.

Brynhilda wants to throw herself into the fight with wild abandon, her very being craves the blood shed, demands it, but she's divided. She has to get her people to safety. They have to survive. She defends them more than she fights.

The enemy, composed of men she's led in battle and known for six years, are confused at the new tactic. She's a brute force fighter, she charges and her opponent dies. Now she's yelling coherent instructions, staying back and helping her people. Her old comrades can’t make sense of it, it makes them hesitate.

Her new friends are just as adept at fighting as she is, a tall blond clears a path, striking so quickly anyone barely has time to react. Dorfi is clearly a distance fighter, throwing numerous little knives into the fray. The women dart in and out of small pockets of enemies, taking down two or three at a time. They work as a team and manage to get to the border, where fighting only grows heavier.

The group Brynhilda sent out that was supposed to charge the side of the camp she’s headed towards is doing its job beautifully. She leads her people towards the small skirmish, forgetting about returning to the small cave system they entered through. The shock of the attack had given them the clear advantage. “Retreat!” She yells once she regroups with the small force of fighters. Despite the screaming and clanging steel, her voice is heard clearly over the battlefield. A horn is sounded and her men begin to fall back. Brynhilda stays until she is sure the last man has gone. She is about to join them when the enemy crowd parts, and she sees Boggvir.

Her heart aches. A sick part of her wants to forgive him, to run into his arms and take comfort in his presence, most of her just wants to snap his neck then and there. He looks older than she remembered, he looks...terrified. “Enjoy your final moments,” Brynhilda calls to him, bowing, “Boggvir, King of Traitors” with that, she melts into the darkness of the trees.

#vikings #ivar ragnarsson #ivar the boneless #brynhilda's saga #ivar and brynhilda

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thedarkmistress16 · 1 year

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TS4 Rewatch Rant Analysis

You don’t need to care about my opinion; I don’t want you to. But I want to explain why I’m frustrated about the final product in terms of both within the movie and extending to implications of the franchise. I also want to provide methods to improve or fix the building blocks of this movie as how I see the franchise and how these characters should be treated and developed as someone who’s grown along with these films and rewatched them more than I can ever hope to count. I’d figure I would post this here to get my ideas out there and clear my mind of these thoughts (also writing a fix-it fic is something too time consuming for me rn). I hope, at the very least, that my passionate word vomit is entertaining to someone.

Will be tagging spoilers since this film is still fairly new and I’m not a complete asshole. This will be a mix of analytical criticing and shitposty jokes for the purpose of harsh hyperbole and humor, so a complete mess all around. This is also stupidly long, been in my drafts for a long time so this timing may seem odd, and there is genuine introspection at the tail end of this. I don’t absolutely despise this film or want to run it into the ground, to preface.

I initially had very mixed feelings about Toy Story 4; I couldn’t tell if I liked or disliked it because the characters looked stunning, Bo Peep was different, there were references to previous films scattered throughout, and Woody’s choice had me still bawling a few weeks later when rewatching the scene. It was only after popping in the Blu-ray film in my newly-acquired collection set, understanding commentaries and deleted scenes, and watching other reviews I came to realize what worked and didn’t work for me in the context of the film’s franchise.

To put simply, the positives of this film are it’s attention to detail and overall animation quality (lighting and other effects) and that it’s funny. It seems these two things are unanimous and I do wholeheartedly agree with them. But it’s also why I believe this movie’s existence is to showcase quality with little to no substance. Which is pretty offensive considering the catalog of films that made a fourth one possible had care in tackling problems and characters in an intriguing and consistent way, and these are all stories about toys at their core, which still hold up today for human scenarios. But with Toy Story 4? Having complex and compelling characters with purpose and themes with development? Nah, animation preeettyyyyy and forky funnnyyy lol.

Expand What You Already Know. Or Don’t, I Guess.

This movie likes to forget the foundation it already has and decides to start from scratch, using valuable resources to create new character designs, motivations, backstories, and relationships when most of the work is already done for you. It’s majorly sitting in the RV, realistically doing nothing but taking up space (until the plot says so), yet systematically crippling this movie and the others before it by said existence. These additional toys that are background characters in this film should’ve either had development or a significant purpose in the film more than the ending or random RV shenanigans, or not been included at all because they clutter up the film (and I hate to talk about these characters like this as I do love them but that’s how it is).

In this case, less is more, especially if your main focus is on one to a few characters over the entire cast- being forky, woody, bo, and the new toys. This leads into a discussion of Bonnie having too many toys at this point which is one reason besides a child’s retention rate that results in the neglect of Woody, but the disregarding Woody after Andy’s speech about him meme isn’t the worst issue I’ve come across in this film (and I really don’t blame the girl).

Look How They Massacred My Boy. For Shame.

I didn’t need to rewatch this film again to realize that Buzz was done dirty in this movie. Going as far to say character assassination is amusing, but might not be as true in this sense. Buzz has no reason not to know what his inner voice/subconscious is and it’s occurrence here really undervalues the preceeding movies regarding the character and the thought behind his actions. There is no reason to have Buzz act deluded or ignorant to such common concepts in the world he inhabits as it insults the establishment and progression of his character up to and in Toy Story 4, and I will not blindly accept him as comic relief anymore (that’s what Rex is for and I love him for it).

I am well aware of the people in charge milking Buzz’s deluded state in every Toy Story movie (plus some Toy Story Treats) beacuse it’s funny. I laughed at it too as a dumb kid enthralled by these toys moving, talking, and have personalities. The schmoe and Hawayai jokes are still enjoyable to me, it’s cute. The problem here is there’s more to Buzz Lightyear than just ‘haha silly (deluded) space toy go brrrr,’ and not just in Toy Story 4 does this happen. Buzz Lightyear is tactical, (basically the whole TS2 rescue mission he started, using Rex’s tail to escape the garbage bag and coming up with the caterpiller room transom escape in TS3) intelligent (backed by academy training, shown in his fighting moves, instincts, jargon, etc. in TS1 and relates to last trait) a leader, (steps up into the leadership role in lieu of Woody in TS2 and TS3 or co-lead with him in the TS3 meeting), determined (to save his friends in TS2 and TS3), more emotionally mature than Woody (see all of Toy Story 1 and compare their arcs; Buzz’s turmoil is more self-contained/depricating than Woody’s, as the cowboy decides to take out his jealousy on others and Buzz, almost murdering the space ranger who only ever attacked Woody once and it wasn’t even during his existential crisis), discovering his worth as Andy’s toy and Woody’s friend (relaying Woody’s words back at him in TS2), embracing his role and family, having a crush on Jessie and supporting her through her trauma and fears, and I can go on.

If you want to make Buzz funny without taking away his personality and growth, have more shit like in the sequel, where a toy-savvy og Buzz plays off of those who think they are real like fake belt Buzz. I’m basically asking for the Bootleg Buzz deleted scene here not only because it is stupidly hilarious in concept, but it also lends additional world-building possibilities like a toy’s personal beliefs/perceptions and human/toy dynamics that hasn’t been explored further in this franchise’s film installments (See: Small Fry). Also, having Buzz saying space jargon in the context of his background knowledge always puts a smile on my face and you don’t have to dumb down this character to achieve that. :)

Is This What They Call... A Glowup? Cuz This Ain’t It, Chief.

My main gripe about Bo’s character is that she lost the personality she had in Andy’s house and her alterations go against the established canon of the shepherdess. More specifically, the strong, go-getter Bo Peep the creators are pushing for here doesn’t feel justified as an understandable change in universe because of the decision to portray her as a simpler or less-realized version of her future self in Molly’s room and extensively implies she’s always been or wanted to be a free spirit and leader when she’s never expressed this otherwise. Her new design isn’t as important to complain about in comparison here but I do find it odd and interesting how her eyes were made bigger in her redesign (like doe eyes) yet she’s rougher around the edges and serious personality-wise, whereas her initial design had sharp eyes similar to a human that enhanced her qualities like flirting and sassiness and the idea of porcelain that is smooth but sharp.

Woody’s surprise at seeing Bo all these years later would be much more believable if her personality initially reflected who she is in Toy Story 1 and 2 during the opening flashback; flirty, empathetic, gentle, and a general overseer of the room that watches others take charge to avoid chipping or shattering as she’s made of porcelain and has limited movement by design. Having so much agency and independence in TS4 may subvert expectations, but feels jarring after knowing this context in a back-to-back viewing of all four films. She’s comparatively more bitter, no-nonsense, and world-weary here, which I get because survival and harsh reality of the world, but she should have a lot more chipping than shown if she’s getting as much playtime as she’s boasting and desiring, especially the rough ones as the kids are random (unlike the deleted storyboard version of the playground). This really feels like a different character and I really don’t believe she and her sheep would’ve lasted this long or have this much fluidity, ingenuity, and agency as the movie claims. Some, possibly, but while humans can train and adapt their bodies for flexibility, strength, etc. to survive, toys cannot. They are stuck in their forms and Bo moves slow as per her build and material of which she was constructed, so she can only adapt so much to the rough lifestyle that is being a lost toy that wants to be played with from time to time.

The Lamp Life short tells me she wants more than, well, lamp life, with the intro concept to non-toys coming to life by a child’s imagination in TS4 support this and her possible in canon reason for existence since TS1. But the short is not Toy Story 4 and past Bo never expressed this in past films. She was really just there as a background character for Woody and never alluded to any dislike for her life or any existential crisis due to that initial purpose of being Woody’s girlfriend and nothing else (not even that initially because of Barbie and copyright so supportive side character to be generous). At the very least the creators of this movie could’ve respected Bo Peep in a way that did not completely rewrite her during a time in which the canonical characterization being shown of her is blatantly false (flashback opening scene).

Furthermore, a viewer shouldn’t feel the need to watch a short (Lamp Life) to get the full context behind Bo’s story after Andy because the movie glosses over those details and moves on like no long-time viewer of Toy Story is curious after her “return.” Details which could’ve helped Bo and Woody have a quiet moment to bond and connect over as they share experiences of being lost instead of being treated as an afterthought (Bo’s retelling of her “Lamp Life” to Woody took place after the conclusion of the fourth installment- Woody even says “Oh yeah, what happened after all that time?”- stating he didn’t even think to ask her about her past in detail during the movie at any point and Bo never explains it until someone else brings it up it in the short film- Giggles. This is something that should’ve been addressed way earlier if Bo is supposed to be one of the main characters in the film, hence, this is an afterthought to the creators and a wasted opportunity).

In addition, if they wanted to have Bo Peep undergo a character change that logically made sense, they could’ve lifted over traits from her original self to her lost toy character, such as her flirtiness for ex. Not only was it played for comedy in both the original Toy Story films (mainly concerning her reactions and interactions to/with the protagonists- moving buddy comment with Buzz and contact with and kisses for Woody in TS1 and TS2), it also showed how much she cared about Woody (wanting Woody to see how much Andy misses him in TS1). She was also a little sassy in her expressions and exchanges with Woody, too. Exploring how their relationship was established and/or moments they shared outside of what the audience had already seen for Toy Story 4 would help not only further develop both characters in a reasonable and new fashion, but aid the audience in getting attached to them on another level, thus rendering the couple’s reconnection years later all that more impactful and important. If Toy Story 4 was about the romance of Woody and Bo as old, lost loves reuniting, this movie could’ve really sold me on its existence, considering its content that was never fully realized even with Buzz and Jessie, who are in the awkward, blushing, early phases of dating (they might not even be officially together canonically at this point, and Woody and Bo’s relationship of comfortability would lend a great contrast to this).

It was hella cute to see the shepherdess and the sheriff together and having playful and sweet exchanges in the first two movies. While I understand that time can change a person and how they think of others, especially how memories can be associated with different emotions from introspection and how that person evolves and sees others in different lights, I find it hard to believe that Woody and Bo never once had a kiss on screen in Toy Story 4, nor had any substantial romantic chemistry from either side. It was my understanding in the original films that these two were established as a romantic couple (her existence is to solely be Woody’s girlfriend as said by the original Toy Story commentary) and it is fact that she has kissed him before (again, TS1 and intention to kiss in TS2) and can be seen approaching him to comfort him with words and touches (Woody’s favoritism issues in TS1 and his nerves about cowboy camp going bad in TS2- these moments are cut off by jokes like Potato Head’s comment or Rex’s tug of war with Bo’s sheep, but there’s enough time established with them to be treated as emotionally impactful moments, albeit small).

Woody and Bo being lost toy buddies doesn’t feel nearly as emotionally impactful as a romantic relationship would. Neither character said anything about their past regarding their past romance or even bring it up in Toy Story 4, just reminiscing like they’re old buddies. The most we get is Woody staring at her in two instances (top of the carnival and watching lights in the antique store), and even then it isn’t explicitly said if Woody still harbors romantic feelings or not. Bo commenting on loving Woody’s loyalty after their argument is said when he’s not present, and I don’t think she ever said it to him directly afterwards when they did meet up again, which further hinders their opportunities at expressing their feelings. It feels like one friend-zoned the other off-screen because of how awkward they are around each other and act nothing more than old friends tiptoeing around each other. Buzz and Bo meeting again are arguably more friendly in this way than Woody and Bo are.

The deleted scene of Woody finding Bo again after so long treats their originally established dynamic better than the scene in the film. In that storyboard, both characters have the time to take in and realize who they are seeing as they stare at one other, assess their emotions and memories, and fully act upon those raw feelings in real time as if they are their lost in their own world by embracing. This reunion is cut short but as stated earlier in examples, both characters are given time for this moment to occur organically (within the circumstances), and the insight into Woody’s memories helps visualize his feelings for her through the times spent together, enhancing the quality of the nonverbal aspect of storytelling... or storyboards, in this case.

In comparison to the final film reunion, Woody and Bo have to worry about other kids seeing them move and talk in the playground with their minds already preoccupied with the world around them and toy rules instead of meeting each other again after so long. By the time they get to a safe place to converse, it’s nowhere near as heartfelt and/or important as the encounter should have been and the action of Bo brushing off Woody’s shoulder feels like a visualization of earlier- sweeping a potentially emotional moment under the rug. Not to mention Woody and Bo are in toy mode when they see each other for the first time, preventing the audience from witnessing their first, raw reactions (I can’t explain how good this deleted scene is it has so much potential and I got emotional over pencil drawings of these toys and what it implies and leads to you if it was explored and developed more you don’t understand-). The lack of romance wouldn’t be as much of an issue if their relationship didn’t have an impact on the story’s conclusion and other characters by extension, namely Woody.

Was it Hoes before Bros or Self Before Bros?

I finally understand now why I don’t like the ending of Toy Story 4 and how it made me cry like a little bitch again like the third installment did. It’s upsetting to me because I don’t buy Woody’s decision to stay with Bo and leave his friends and his new kid behind.

I totally get that Woody may have chosen to be a lost toy because he feels no more purpose outside of Andy, and can’t let go of him, and maybe Bo symbolizes a connection to those early and simpler days (even though she’s entirely different now). With that in mind, I do like his self-appointed purpose of guiding forky as his development transitions from wanting to always be the favorite to using that knowledge and humility to help a new favorite toy adjust and understand its role for a kid and accepting that he is still loved regardless at the end of the day and has his family through infinity and beyond. But Woody abandons his new and old family for a new life, throwing out the whole loyalty to your kid aspect and not wanting to see Bonnie grow up. Woody’s decision in TS4 is basically if he stuck with the Tokyo choice in Toy Story 2. I like how TS4 wants to challenge the franchise’s conceptions on toys and their purpose, but it’s also insulting at the same time, attempting to demolish and reconstruct original elements.

Alternate Routes.

After being tossed away by Hannah, either have Gabby Gabby a) realize she doesn’t want nor need a child to play with her to be happy and embrace the lost toy life, or b) double down on her insecurities and blame Woody forever getting her hopes up in the first place, challenging his ideals of a toy’s purpose and sense of loyalty toward a child, becoming an anguished, heartbroken, antagonist going after Woody in anger or stubbornly stewing away in the curio again.

Have Woody realize he doesn’t have to be the favorite or constantly played by his kid as proof he is loved and wanted by Bonnie, possibly overexaggerating his fear of abandonment earlier on. Have him rejoin the toys with a new sense of duty and belonging that is similar to his actions as a lost toy, but watching over forky’s adjustment and staying loyal to his family and friends with Bonnie picking him up and playing with him again similar to the alternate scrapped ending (possibly with his voicebox still removed because that was so heartwarming). This can also lend a nod to Woody’s struggle with being damaged and fixed by Andy in TS2. In TS4, this can be extended to Bonnie not only reassuring Woody she still loves and wants him despite being broken, but even if he’s unfixable.

Let Woody become a lost toy for his re-connection with Bo (emotionally and romantically stronger on both sides) for the “he’s not lost” line and the infinity and beyond line even separated, as let’s say that because he’s found someone he didn’t realize he’s missed so dearly due to fixating on Andy, he doesn’t want to leave her again not knowing if he’ll ever see her again and because he can’t let go of the past (my least fave solution but yes to toy romance and concept of lost toys having a purpose besides playtime meaning in each other awwe it’s too corny).

So... What’s the Point?

It doesn’t help that the movie gets confused about what message it’s really going for - toy independence but also stay loyal to your kid. In the deleted scene intro to “She’s the One” in Toy Story 4, Josh Cooley stated that he wanted to avoid Woody not changing as a character and essentially resetting the movie back to the beginning where Woody stays with Bonnie and the toys, despite him liking this ending which had come close to being very impactful and emotional. The more I think about this clip, the worse it sounds. Woody can absolutely be in the same place and change as a character at the same time, like overcoming his attachment to Andy by being there for his new kid who wrote her name on his boot like Buzz and Jessie, or wanting to continually guide and support forky as Bonnie’s favorite toy from his experience and knowing he is still loved and with the other toys. A movie can end with the characters physically in the same positions as the beginning, but with learned lessons and values that imply or confirm different actions in their future like bettering themselves aka staying true to Woody’s character and lending an interesting contrast to their earlier positions in the film, Josh Cooley. Similar visuals with different context behind them can be very powerful.

I really don’t understand why Josh Cooley and co. didn’t embrace their initial ideas because I would love to see them explored and he clearly wanted to include (at least some of them) in the final product. Editor Lee Unkrich of Toy Story 1 has said it is hard to cut things out in a film that you really love, worked hard on, and feel important to the story and characters. But you have to remove it or feel like you must in case the scene is affecting the film’s pacing/flow, etc. in referencing the Woody and Buzz bonding scene in Sid’s room, which Unkrich regrets shortening in hindsight.

But this also doesn’t mean you should throw every idea you have on the cutting room floor either, especially if it serves the story, characters, or plot in a beneficial way (hopefully all three). Josh Cooley’s Hungry Hippos idea and among other storyboard concepts I’ve expressed here are all really cool ideas and I wish they would’ve been explored as these are hinted at in previous films like Toy Story 3 and the vending machine scene, which can be developed further with the underworld of toys and gambling via board games concept. If you are passionate about what you’re making and have fun with it, the results will be great, something John Lasseter says at the end of the Toy Story 2 bonus features, and I fully believe that the things Cooley and others wanted to do could’ve worked out if they had that same drive to create and entertain while telling an engaging story that aligned with the characters and their journeys.

Seeing the scarce amount of bonus features in the Toy Story 4 bonus disk genuinely broke my heart. I’m not sure if they used practically all their generated ideas in the final film or had close to none in the first place to expand the world and rules of toys compared to the last films, but it’s a damn shame regardless to see little to no creativity in this product that has so much more unexplored potential and creative ideas waiting to be immortalized with the ogs of animation in film besides visual quality. Of course I know that Toy Story as a franchise will come to an end eventually, as “toys don’t last forever,” and another franchise may develop these things better or more extensively with toys or otherwise, but I would’ve appreciated at the very least, to have a Toy Story series that either stopped while it was ahead, or be fully treated with all the passion, enjoyment, and respect it initially had as its creators did while enriching the world and lives of these toys to its full potential.

also,

How dare they break this duo up wtf. To infinity and Beyond? more like my waterhole has been poisoned, snakes are in all my boots, buzz lightyear is not coming to my rescue, and the mission is fucked. smh. truly the end of an era.

#toy story 4 #toy story #toy story 4 spoilers #this rant is so long im so sorry #don't ask me how long this took #i guess ill tag this:#analysis of moi #i wonder if all this text will break tumblr

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iampikachuhearmeroar · 2 years

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okay another cringy high school memory coming through that i just realised was a huge compliment lmao:

i know i’ve talked about it several times before, but that cringy ass memory of me wanting to use emo band songs (mostly all time low and pierce the veil) in my year 10 shakespeare monologue- and the esp cringy choice of “do you want me dead?” by atl at the end of it- very inappropriately i might add- considering that the scene that i’d selected it for was the DEATH scene in romeo & juliet where either one of them finds the other one poisoned…..

so, besides his justification that i’d regret using those songs as the backing tracks (which is true bc i made a post about it a few years back now although it ultimately didn’t happen) to that monologue…. my drama teacher also told me at the time that i was engaging enough on my own for that monologue. like GIRL! that is the biggest fucking compliment that you could’ve gotten from your drama teacher at that time; since you were all moody about being ~taken seriously as an actress~ (lmao fuck)…. but you brushed it off…. all bc your teacher thought it was a terrible idea to use your fave bands music as the soundtrack. when 10 years later, you’ll realise it was the cringiest thing that you could’ve done and that that man saved your goddamned emo ass 😂😅.

for the younger users on this site: learn to take compliments!!!! this was such a huge recognition comment from my fave teacher in year 10 at catholic school in 2011, that i could hold an audience with my stage presence etc, by myself. but since i was so fucking tied up in the end stages of both my Super Obsessive All Time Low Phase™️ and my EdGy EmO pHaSe 👩🏻‍🎤™️ in general at that age, i just took offence to it…. since i wasn’t allowed to play what i now realise is a terrible song choice (along with a few others that kinda made sense but didn’t need to be used anyway tbh) by my fave bands for 5eva at the time.

i just decided to ignore his massive compliment altogether and bitch and whine that “but atl and ptv are the best ever!!! it makes sense!!” (no it doesn’t honey sit down). so, it was also a hard lesson of learning the meaning of the word NO as well. bc sometimes your ~creative ideas~ at 15/16 aren’t the best ideas ever, actually. you need to learn to accept that your choices are bad sometimes lmao.

and also in general maybe it was just an underhanded “thank god i don’t have to listen to them now that i’ve told her no” thing from my drama teacher; who would’ve been sick to death of me yapping these bands on the daily anyway lmao…. which i don’t blame him for tbh, now that im older. i was pretty unrelenting with it lmao.

anyway. my main point is that i should’ve realised that he’d given me a HUGE compliment about stage presence, audience engagement and acting skills, when i was kinda stupidly seriously thinking about acting as a career at that point lol. but no. “i can’t use my fave band for 5eva bc mr D is mean!” is what i took from it at the time instead lmao. like obvs most kids would probs do this too, tbh. but still. learn to see through your rose tinted glasses that you’re wearing in regards to your fave bands, and take the compliments out of the situation that your teacher or someone else is giving you.

#life #about me #shut up ilona #ilona’s catholic school memories #ilona reminisces her emo phase #my little pop punk heart #my little pop punk soul #my little emo heart #my little emo soul #my little scene kid heart #my little scene kid soul

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bucksfucks · 3 years

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𝙁𝘽𝙍𝙊 ; 𝗯𝘂𝗰𝗸𝘆 𝗯𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗲𝘀 [𝟳/𝟭𝟭]

summary┃bucky’s past comes back with a vengeance and you’re determined to get the answers you’ve been searching for.

pairing┃roommate!bucky x f!reader

word count┃2,682 words

warnings┃bucky’s past is revealed, character mentions; [sam wilson, natasha romanoff, tony stark], pet name [kid (platonic), sweets & baby], threats made against bucky + reader, trust-issues, mention of hit-men, brief mention of death, phone sex, praise kink, masturbation, mention of toys, slight angst, soft ending — 18+ ONLY • MINORS DNI

notes┃there is A LOT of plot here but also some filthy goodness and a sprinkle of angst <<3

SERIES MASTERLIST

Ex-wife.

Bucky’s words echoed in your ears as he didn’t dare to look at you.

His ex-wife was threatening you.

And he didn’t think to mention her? Ever?

“Can I please explain?” Bucky croaked finally, voice sounding broken as you shrugged your shoulders — in a state of shock.

That was all he needed before he recounted his previous relationship with the woman who was now sending you threatening emails.

Married young, too young and too fast and it ended up blowing up in their faces.

Well, clearly she hadn’t gotten over it.

“I thought I lost her,” he explains. “I thought that moving halfway across the country would be enough.”

You finally looked up to meet his eyes, glossy, sad and terrified as you sniffled.

“There’s a reason only Tasha calls me James.”

It broke your heart hearing that, the way his head hung low and he nearly winced at the sound of his own goddamn name.

But you didn’t know who to trust anymore.

Bucky always glossed over how he, Sam, and Nat knew each other — telling you that they were old friends that go back.

How far back?

You needed to know, but clearly you weren’t about to get answers from him.

“Buck,” he stopped you, taking a step closer as his eyes begged and pleaded you not to finish your sentence.

“I can’t,” he shook his head, “I need some time.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to say those words that would shatter both of your world’s. But you had no idea what the hell you had gotten yourself into and you needed answers.

And you knew exactly who to go to for them.

“I understand,” Bucky sighed. “I’ll stay at Sam’s for some time, okay?”

You could only nod your head, watching him walk past you and into his door.

Then he shut it, something he never did because his door was always open for you. No matter what you needed and no matter what time of day it was.

It felt...wrong.

But you couldn’t dwell on it, grabbing your keys, phone, and whatever other important things you could think of being you nearly bolted out of the front door.

You plugged your headphones into your phone, hitting shuffle and descending down into the subway.

The entire ride made you anxious, slowly approaching your stop and you were way out of place in this crowd.

People rushed by you in expensive suits and what you could only guess were the infamous red-soled shoes that were worth close to your monthly rent, if not more.

You cringed, thinking of the man you were about to see in his stupidly tall office building that you had to crane your neck at an uncomfortable angle just to get a look at.

The elevator could not have taken longer, tapping your foot impatiently as you rode up to what felt like the heavens before the doors opened to revel smooth wooden doors that reach from the ceiling to the floor.

You were so close, before you were stopped.

“Ma’am, I’m sorry, you can’t be here right now.” A man’s voice stopped you, dressed in a security guard uniform and oh, this was so him.

“I know him,” you said, intent on seeing the man probably sitting behind those large doors.

“I’m sorry, I can’t let you do th—”

“It’s okay, Marv. I know her,” his voice came not from behind the doors, but from the long hallway to your left.

The security guard, Marv, nodded his head as he looked at you once more before retreating back to where he was leaning against one of the walls.

“This is a surprise,” you rolled your eyes, “Tony, please. I don’t wanna hear it.”

He walked over to you, embracing you in a hug, “oh c’mon, I’ve missed you, Kid.”

You shook your head, “I haven’t been a kid in years,” you tried to remind him, but it was Tony, he wasn’t going to listen as he just laughed it off and welcomed you into his office.

It was much different from last time, all new furniture and appliances, but nothing lasted more than a year with Tony.

Tony was an old friend, sort of.

He was an old friend of your father’s, something like an uncle, but also like your older brother.

So just one giant pain in your ass.

“So,” Tony sighed. “What trouble did you get into this time, Kid?”

You told Tony everything.

From being roommates with Bucky to the way he asked you to be his fake girlfriend to Sam’s wedding and all the way to the situation you were in now. Confronted by his ex-wife without any idea of what she was going to do.

Tony had that look on his face. The one where he was going to tell you that you were crazy.

“I don’t know how you manage to get yourself into these situations,” he chuckled, hand clamping over your shoulder as he walked around his desk and typed something into his computer.

“Last name is,” he looked at you. “Barnes.”

He nodded his head, typing away at his computer again before he stopped.

There was a brief moment of silence, Tony hiding behind the computer screen before he stood up and walked back around the desk, “I’m gonna need some time.”

You understood, shaking your head. You were asking Tony to hack into any known database and collect as much data on Bucky as you could. It was wrong, but you just needed to know who you were dealing with.

“Thank you, Tony. I-I really appreciate it.” You weren’t good when it came to...well, the heartfelt side of things but luckily neither was Tony.

“Don’t get sappy on me now, Kid. You know it makes me sick,” he joked playfully, smile on his lips as you stood up to give him a half hug.

“I’ll call you as soon as I know anything.” He promised before you walked out of the too-tall building with far more questions than you came with.

It was a waiting game that you didn’t want to play, but you didn’t have a choice.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It seemed like your relationship with Bucky was doomed from the start.

Friends to lovers rarely, if ever, works out in anyone’s favour.

The fake dating trope you could handle, pushing your feelings aside to help Bucky win a bet didn’t seem like the worst thing in the world. You had a great time, great fucking sex, and a trip out of it.

Then Steve wouldn’t leave the picture. Going as far as coming to the wedding as Natasha’s boyfriend to spite you not realizing that you and Bucky had gotten married.

Married.

You and Bucky were married. Bonded in a whole other way and now, his ex-wife was out for you and him.

Maybe this was a sign from the universe, a big red fucking flag telling you that it wasn’t worth it and yet...you couldn’t let go.

The apartment felt empty without Bucky, his bedroom left the way it was in the morning with your favourite sweater of his laid out on the covers and a little post-it note on top of it.

You never could really decipher Bucky’s handwriting. It was absolute chicken scratch as you picked it up and managed to make out in case you get cold scribbled onto it.

It was an easy decision to pull it over your head and drown yourself in the scent of Bucky’s cologne as you fiddled with the small gold band you now wore around your neck as a necklace.

You didn’t want anyone other than Bucky. There was no in the world who understood you better. Who knew how to make you laugh when you were having a bad day.

Everything led you right back to Bucky.

So when your phone rang from the other side of the couch, you were secretly hoping it was Bucky.

Instead, Tony’s name flashed and your heart sank into your stomach as you quickly hit answer and held the phone up to your ear.

“You’re not gonna like this, Kid.” Tony’s voice flowed through the speakers as you took a shaky breath in and braced yourself for what Tony was about to tell you.

“He did a damn good job at erasing his history, but you can’t erase all of it,” Tony chuckled as you rolled your eyes, “quit stalling.”

He sighed, “the Howling Commandos was an organization tasked with,” he paused, “tasked with collecting intel and making sure that information never got released to the public.”

This time, it was your turn to fall silent.

“Like, spies?” You asked and Tony hummed, “sort of.”

“They had spies, agents, hit-men.”

No. You shook your head, no.

“James Buchanan Barnes was their highest ranking hit-man. Him, along with Sam Wilson and Natasha Romanova worked as a team. A spy, agent, hit-man trio.”

You had to shake yourself out of spiralling, what you needed was everything Tony could possible tell you.

“Anything on his ex-wife?” You then asked and heard shuffling on the other line, “not much. Mary Barnes, but I doubt that’s her real name, was part of a training initiative the Howling Commandos were testing.”

You bit your lip, at least you had a name, even if it wasn’t her real name.

“By that point it looks like James—”

“Bucky. His name is Bucky.”

Tony cleared his throat after a moment’s silence, “Bucky looks like he had disappeared. Blipped off of the face of the Earth. There’s nothing in his file after 2014.”

That makes sense. Bucky was perhaps the most old-fashioned man you knew, only upgrading from his flip-phone just a few years ago. He barely knew how to unlock it, though.

“Sam and Natasha went on to live normal lives, Kid. I’m sure that’s all Bucky wants.” Tony tries to assure you and you laugh, “you sound like my dad.”

He laughed on the other line, “oh gross.”

“Thanks for everything, Tony.” You said, “you know what number to call in case you’re in trouble.”

With that, you both hung up, tossing your phone away from you to digest everything you’d just been told. You knew you had to talk to Bucky, but you didn’t know when.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“So you’re tellin’ me,” Sam was confused. “That this is the same Mary that tried to get you killed?”

Bucky rolled his eyes, taking another swing of his beer as he rounded Sam’s kitchen island.

“That’s the one, you know, the undercover agent working for Strucker.” Bucky scowled at the name.

He was angry, beyond angry at the fact that his past was creeping up on him despite how far he had gone to erase it.

“But why now? Why come after you now?” Sam poses the question that even Bucky doesn’t have an answer to. So he just shrugs his shoulders and finishes off his beer.

“Unfinished business.”

They stand in silence for a little while longer, listening to the old ticking clock hanging on the wall before Sam takes a step towards Bucky.

“Whatever you need, you know that Tasha and I are here for you, right?” He whispers and Bucky feels the warmth blooming in his chest as he gives him a half-smile.

“Yeah,” he nods his head, “thanks, man.”

Sam knows that Bucky was never really good at the sappy shit, so he doesn’t force it. Instead, he offers him another beer, bottle necks clinking as Bucky’s thoughts race.

He was worried.

Not about himself, but about you.

And you were worried about Bucky, curling up in his bed as you sighed and tossed and turned. There was no way you’d be able to fall asleep alone tonight. And hugging his pillow just wasn’t enough.

So you grabbed your phone, hitting his name and waiting for the ringing to sound before he picked up — tired and groggy.

“We need to talk.” You didn’t give him a chance to greet you. He sighed on the other line, but hummed in agreement, “tomorrow?”

You hummed in response to his question, the sound of his voice soothing as you played with the sheets of his bed.

“I miss you, Sweets.” Bucky whispered, your breathing hitching at how low and raspy his voice really was.

“I miss you too, Bucky.” You admitted, shifting as you got comfortable on the pile of pillows against your head.

There was a moment of silence before Bucky spoke again.

“You know what ‘m really missin’ right now?” His words sent a shiver down your spine as you shakily inhaled, “what?”

Bucky sighed, reminiscent of how he sighs when he runs his hands all over your body.

“I miss that sweet cunt of yours.” Bucky purrs, you know he’s smirking, possibly even dragging his tongue across his bottom lip as he closes his eyes to imagine you under him.

You’re at a loss for words, feeling your panties grow damp, core aching and you’re going to have to touch yourself soon. But that’s all part of Bucky’s plan, you think.

“Here I am, all alone, with my hand wrapped ‘round my cock,” he whispers, but you can hear him stroking himself.

“And all I can think ‘bout is that way your tight little pussy grips me and milks my fuckin’ dick, baby.” Bucky was always so good with his words, knowing exactly what to say to make you melt.

And it was working, because you were a squirming mess in his bed.

“Well,” you could tell he was smirking by his tone, “what’re ya waitin’ for, Sweets. Go on, touch yourself. I wanna hear you work your clit.”

Your hand flew under your panties, being given the permission only made it sweeter as your fingers came in contact with your soaking folds. The sensitive bundle of nerves needed desperate attention as you slowly circled it.

“Good girl, that’s my girl.” Bucky praised, continuing to work himself.

“God,” he hissed, “can’t wait to have you all to myself again. Bury myself deep, maybe even have you sit on my cock as you beg me to do somethin’.”

You worked yourself a little faster, applying some more pressure as you let out a whine at his words.

“Add two fingers, Sweets. I know how much you love bein’ stretched,” Bucky chuckled deeply, “been thinkin’ of gettin’ you a mould of my fuckin’ dick for when ‘m not home.”

Oh my God. Oh my God that shouldn’t be so fucking hot so why does it make your walls flutter and breathing uneven as you have to stop yourself from actually fucking cumming.

He chuckles again, “yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

You can’t verbally respond, too focused on the tight coil in your abdomen that’s ready to snap.

“I know you’re close, can hear it in how fuckin’ desperate you sound,” he pants, “so why don’t you make a mess all over my clean sheets.”

You gasp, how did he know, but you don’t get to dwell on it for much longer than a moment because your orgasm rips through you and leaves you panting Bucky’s name.

Both of your breaths are uneven and ragged through the phone’s speakers, bed springs creaking on Bucky’s side as he hums.

“If only you could see the miss I made for you, Sweets,” you shuddered at his words, closing your eyes to relish in the moment.

“Now get some sleep, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow.” His tone has changed, entirely sweet and caring as you grab the phone to bring him closer to you.

“Okay,” you reply, another lick of silence before you hear Bucky going to end the call but you stop him.

“I love you, Bucky.” You quickly blubber out and it feels good to finally say those words because there’s no more denying how you really feel about him.

“I love you too, Sweets.”

It’s a bittersweet ending to the phone call, thoughts and emotions running wild as you’re forced to remind yourself that Bucky has a lot of explaining to do.

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes headcanon #bucky barnes headcanons #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes oneshots #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au #roommate!bucky #bucky barnes series

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megamegaturtle · 3 years

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in the dumpster fire of 2020, i fell in love with dramione

here’s some fic recs in no particular order of favorites (ao3 edition). this is going to be a long ass post, but a link to all my bookmarks on ao3. again, long post. you’ve been warned:

remain nameless by @heyjude19-writing - the coffee shop au that’s 300,000 words that’s friends to lovers and becoming better people (complete)

measure of a man - okay so like. i’m going to explain this story terribly. but like. hermione is a healer, she’s also part farmer. she super heals hard to heal patients. and oh boy. there are the malfoys. we have narcissa as herself. scrop as the cutest baby kid alive, and draco as a poltergeist. JUST. THIS STORY. START READING. IT IS SO GOOD. AND DELCIOS AND ALSJDFJLA you will come away feeling super empowered. (WIP)

subtle perfection - the ice skating/muggle au that’s is asldkfjsaljf really smoking hot but like the ice hurts my feels (wip)

seven year witch by @thelastlynx- draco and hermione keep meeting up in the summers between school years (WIP)

when midnight comes - TIME LOOP AU. head boy and head girl au. (complete)

O for Outstanding - hogwarts teacher au. also, draco has a thing for shoes *wink* (WIP)

regrets only - MADE OF HONOR AU. draco realizes a little too late he’s in love with hermione. but now he has to stop but support a wedding! (WIP)

never in heart - the one where where hermione and draco are best friends, but stupidly did an unbreakable vow to get married if they’re not married by 30. time is running out to find a spouse, but like, why take the easy route and marry your best friend? (complete)

nine months - hermione and draco have what is supposed to be a one night stand...several times, but oops. someone is pregrant :D (WIP)

love and other misfortune by @senlinyu - a veela!fic. and in the first few fics i read in the fandom. it made me continue reading more dramione. this is sen’s fault (complete)

living the dream - the one where draco is a high class escort looking for his mate. also a veela!fic. i am here for positive sex work (one shot)

the gloriana set - absolute hilarious perfection with the best little hufflepuffs (complete)

armature cartography - the one where draco somehow ends up as hermione’s boyfriend but she’s not sure how dating works (one shot)

thirteenth night - the one where draco is obliviated to pay for his crimes, but hermione is his caseworker (complete)

traditions - the christmas fic that gets my feels (complete)

everything little thing she does (is magic) - the one were draco and hermione go to parties together as a ruse! (complete)

the preferred hour - the one where scorp and rose start dating and draco is this super nice widower and...asdlfjasdljf JUST READ THIS ONE (one shot)

blood rights - creature!fic. also, draco and hermione have to get married (complete)

precious things - *cue ugly sobbing* the journey of draco’s growing love for his family through many years after he accidently knocks up hermione and....it’s a christmas fic. that hurts my heart, but it’s so good. (one shot)

fight this feeling - the best friend au! but like, unrequited feelings. these two silly gooses (complete)

courting customs most sacred by @heyjude19-writing - pansy thinks she’s doing hermione a favor, but like draco gets how purebloods do etiquette (complete)

as you wish by @scullymurphy - is this a princess bride ref? yes, yes is it. is it about costumes and movies? yes it is. (oneshot)

all you want by @senlinyu - the first A/B/O fic i’ve ever read. it was good. so i read it. i don’t even like this trope! but it’s worth it! :D (complete)

where we go from here - this hurts. so much. ron dies in a horrible accident leaving hermione alone pregnant with their child. draco is the real bro and helps and alsdjfasldjf family. feels. dad feels. i can’t. (complete)

in search of sunrise - a very cute onesot where draco and hermione stay up all night (oneshot)

tough love - hermione has to date a few bad men to get to the right one (complete)

each day anew - the 50 first dates au. hermione needs help relearning who she is every day (complete)

with teeth - the one where there are many, many horcruxes (oneshot)

wait and hope by @mightbewriting - ugly crying. hermione lost her memories and draco is the best husband. just. take all my love. (complete)

broken by @inadaze22 - hermione is back from italy. there is a secert. it will wreck you. (complete)

waif and strays - the familiar au! draco becomes hermione’s familiar because she’s a little lost and lonely and he’s a little lost and lonely too (complete)

apple pies and other amends - the baking!au where i want to eat everything. also. it’s very cute. (complete)

off the cuff - the cinderella au! someone forgot their glass slipper, i mean...cuff (complete)

universal truth by @scullymurphy - the modern wizarding P&P au. ugh. so good. (complete)

an education - the one where hermione is forced to help draco learn about the muggle world a little bit (complete)

Inosculation - the one where hermione has to marry draco to save her life because of a stupid curse. they are very cute. (complete)

the calm to her storm - ron passes away and rose and hugo befriend scorp and hermione has to befriend draco and it’s great (complete)

a boy of hans - hanahaki au. sad ending.

Dancing with Draco - THIS SERIES IS SO GOOD. okay, so like. draco has to help hermione dance for the yule ball. the sequeal is super good too.

The Oblivious Ones - a fake marriage story. hermione and draco meet in the pysch ward at st. mungo’s and go off to look for her parents

what you think is right - this story is so painful. one of the best 1st POVs i’ve read. it’s hermione pov. her parents are dying and it’s affecting her marriage with draco and god. just read it. (WIP)

Deine Zauber Binden Wieder - the ochrastra au no one asked for, but it’s like. really fun. (oneshot)

the green girl - hermione is sorted in Slytherin when she’s 11. this story. i still think about it to this day. (complete)

a year in the countryside - hermione wants to escape for the craziness of the big city so she moves to the cute country side. to only find draco malfoy living there too. (complete)

don’t take the sinner - THE MARRIAGE LAW FIC WITH A TWIST. hermione has to marry harry and ginny has to marry draco, but like, no one stays with their spouse. no cheating involved. (complete)

Draco's Baking Dilemmas - the great british bake off au. i don’t need to say anything more. hermione is the judge. draco is the baker. yes. and yes. (complete)

starving - sex is like food. or rather. sex is like pizza. it’s good when it’s cold, but like. it’s better when it’s hot :D (oneshot)

#dramione #Harry Potter #draco malfoy #Hermione Granger #dmhg #dhr #literally the only good thing about 2020 is dramione

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elysianslove · 3 years

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Hey, hey, hey I just saw your post of hc boys having a beautiful s/o with dimples and I loved it, so can I please request one with Suna, Ushijima, Kuroo Please, you can ignore this if you want Bye!!

i didn’t expect people to love those headcanons so much but i’m glad!!! i hope you like these <3

i’ve written these same headcanons for other haikyuu boys too: you can find them in my masterlist!

suna rinatarō

part 2 of it’s illegal to look at you two cause you’re both just that pretty

suna is painfully aware of how beautiful you are, and suna is incredibly smug about it, to the point that it’s almost annoying

you’re always being posted on his stories and on his instagram. he likes to show you off, absolutely, but he also loves to rub it in people’s faces lmfao. he’ll take any and all types of pictures, ones of you alone with the sunset highlighting your face, you across the table from him on a date, some ramen halfway through your mouth, a selfie of the two of you where his hand’s resting around your throat

you can’t convince me suna doesn’t know how to do makeup. at the very least, eyeliner. he will put it on you, just to have fun, cup your chin in his hand when he’s done and say some shit like, “ain’t my baby pretty?” that’ll have your stomach reeling cause wtf you can’t just!!! say something like that!!! with an expression like that!!!

nine times out of ten he’s the one flustering you, especially when you dress up and go all out for him.

but it’s actually when you’re most casual that his breath’s like completely stolen from him. he doesn’t know why but seeing your natural hair a little messy, barefaced aside cherry chapstick on your lips and your cheeks naturally red, your clothes completely casual, either some sweatpants or jeans and a sweatshirt, or if you’re a girl, some tennis skirt or sundress you found in your closet. it’s not that it looks like you put in no effort. it’s more that you don’t need to put in any effort and yet, here you are, looking absolutely breathtaking

listen, like i said, suna knows you’re beautiful. he’s aware that you’re pretty, you really don’t have to tell him. he can look at your face all day. but it just really, really ticks him off when people say it to him like he doesn’t know. his love language isn’t very explicit or loud, so to an outsider, he seems unaffectionate, but that really isn’t the case.

he hates when people assume he’s taking you for granted, because really, there’s nothing he appreciates more, nothing he’s more thankful for, nothing he loves more, than you.

i like to think suna thinks he knows everything about you, he’s so laid back and confident in himself and then he sees you smile so brightly once and he’s like what the hell hold up??? you have dimples???? and then he repeatedly makes you smile till your cheeks hurt, and he’ll be giggling stupidly while poking at them omg

probably tells you to pierce them at some point honestly

but he adores them so much and whenever he sees you smile really brightly he kinda sighs dreamily and his shoulders sag a little and he smiles ever the slightest he is head over heels with you on god

ushijima wakatoshi

ushijima considers you being beautiful not an opinion, but a straight up fact. like he will argue with anyone to the death that disagrees. he’ll just be like 😐are u blind tf

i don’t think he’s possessive about it, honestly. if anything, he’s sort of really proud at how everyone is so infatuated with you. not for himself and for scoring you, but genuinely he’s happy for you, for getting all this appreciation

that being said, he is insanely protective over you. yeah he likes that people always have to do a double take when looking at you cause woah! but don’t look for too long. he knows it tends to make you uncomfortable, and it makes him uncomfortable too.

he has you as his lockscreen and he always smiles so lovingly when he reaches for his phone. don’t ask him to check the time on his phone he will get sidetracked and end up staring at his s/o’s photo for far too long.

he also really loves complimenting you, and one of his nicknames for you is literally “beautiful.”

omg he’ll be waiting for you, sitting on your bed, as you change into an outfit for your date with him and when you come out he looks up and just smiles and gives you a thumbs up, and says, “perfect, as always, my love.” oh my god.

and whenever you two are alone ushijima turns 100% softer, like he genuinely just melts with you, especially when you’re cuddling him in bed and he’s just trapping you in his arms. that’s when he admires you most, with his face so close to yours. he loves to just trace your features, kissing your lips, whispering against them how he’s so lucky and you’re so pretty

it’s at a moment like that one that he notices your dimples for the first time. he’s just admiring you up-close and he accidentally tickles you so you laugh and squirm and his eyes go wide, and he looks in awe, and in the softest voice ever as he traces at the indentations, “that’s so cute.” like his voice is so low and so soft and he sounds so in love because he is so in love

his new wallpaper is now you, but smiling brightly enough that your dimples show

kuroo tetsurō

i stand by the statement that kuroo is an absolute dork around his crush. will probably embarrass himself multiple times in front of you. and the fact that you’re as beautiful as you are? it makes it ten times worse. like your eyes. why are they so pretty. what are words. why isn’t his brain working

okay but as your boyfriend, he’s so annoying. greets you every morning in the loudest voice ever, “how is my most beautiful, most gorgeous, most favorite person ever doing on this fine morning!”

pick up lines. always. never ending. he sends them to you on text, instead of a cute good morning text like normal boyfriends would do. so you wake up and instead of seeing “good morning beautiful 💖” you see “are you a parking ticket? cause you’ve got fine written all over you” like kuroo baby that is so overused

he still does it though

also posts you just as much as suna but they’re all really chaotic pictures. things like him taking a photo in the dark with the flash on, his entire hand just covering your face, or he’ll take a picture of you as you’re choking on some food and probably make a sex joke out of it on his snapchat too. or just a picture of you sleeping really peacefully on his chest but in the frame you can also see a marker uncapped, and everybody’s comments are always like “kuroo no!” but he’s always like “too late rip”

he might not seem like it, but he is possessive. like he seems really laidback, and it’s not that he doesn’t trust you, or that he doesn’t think you can handle yourself either, because neither are true. it’s more that he doesn’t trust other people, especially because he knows how beautiful you are and how even if he’s with you people come up and shamelessly ask for you number. it’s why he’s as possessive as he is. he’s definitely gotten you a necklace with his initials on it at some point too

kuroo is always making you laugh, so him discovering you have dimples comes pretty early on. when he made you laugh hard enough that your dimples appeared, he just chuckled to himself, grabbed your face and squished it and in a higher pitched voice went “so cute!”

now every time they appear he does that. he has to grab your face, and a lot of the times, he kisses your cheek too. not a light peck, nah, a big, wet smooch like mwah baby couldn’t resist hehe

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #suna x reader #suna headcanons #suna rinatarou x reader #ushijima x reader #ushijima headcanons #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo headcanons #kuroo tetsuro x reader

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soramei · 3 years

Text

Intentional - Part 2

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader (she/her)

Summary: Landing your first real job at JYPE was something short of a miracle. You were prepared to face the new struggles of this elusive career whilst moving to a new country, however, nothing could have prepared you for him. Will stolen glances, secret touches, and hushed nights spent in the recording room ever be enough for the both of you?

Genre: idol!bang chan au, forbidden relationship, coworkers to eventual lovers, slow burn

Warnings: none right now, eventual smut,

Word Count: 5.2k

Masterlist

A/N: o my god i did not expect so many people to have read the first part… even if only one person reads im still happy :D anyways heres the second part (i swear bang chan wont just be a side character later on hhahaha)

The insistent beeping of the alarm on your phone was what first woke you up from your dazed sleep. Your head still pounded from the night before, and frankly, you were ready to get fired for an extra five minutes of sleep. Tapping the ‘cancel’ button on your phone, you flipped over head down on your pillow to find the beautiful dreamland you were in. However, after just five more minutes, the triggering beeping of your backup alarm took you out of your slumber again, this time really waking you up.

You trudge towards your bathroom, still dreading the day, on your way to take a shower. Thankfully, the steam from the warm shower combined with the fragrant smell of your conditioner slightly woke you up and dampened the aching in your head.

Being drastically more awake than before, you made your way over to your kitchen to prepare breakfast. You opened the fridge, mind blank, just staring at the empty shelves. I seriously need to do some grocery shopping, you thought before grabbing an egg.

You struggled to turn on the stove, not knowing which knob correlated to which burner. Turning a random one, you flinched when an excessive amount of fire appeared. However, after an embarrassingly long amount of time, you finally figured out the stove. Why are there still gas range stoves when electrical stoves exist? You wondered.

You looked at the sad cooked egg in front of you.

Was this really how you were going to live from now on? You cursed your whole family for spoiling you so much back home. Sure you were grateful for being able to live with your family for twenty three years, but the consequences of your mother making a fuss when you tried to cook for yourself was really showing now.

You were about to dig into your lonely meal when your phone buzzed all of a sudden. Taking a quick peek at it, you saw Na-eun’s name flash up. You beamed with joy. Although you already worked up the nerve to be the first one to contact her, you were thankful she did first to break the tension. However, there was a small — microscopic even — part of you that wondered: what if that were Bang Chan?

You unlocked your phone.

Na-eun: Hey! I know it’s kinda last minute, but do you wanna meet for breakfast?

Na-eun: There’s a café five minutes away from the building.

Na-eun: ^-^

Smiling to yourself, you quickly typed a reply.

Y/n: Sure! My breakfast looks too sad to eat…

Y/n: ^-^

In a flash, you stuffed your egg into a plastic tupperware container and put it in the empty fridge before booking it out your door, making sure to carefully enter the passcode to lock it before running to the staircase. You almost tripped over the stairs going down as you tried to sprint and text Na-eun at the same time. Checking the maps app on your phone, you told her how long it would take for you to arrive at the café.

Na-eun: Do you mind if I bring my roommate? She keeps complaining about how boring it is at home haha....

Na-eun: She’s really nice though! ^^;

You happily agreed since you weren’t in the position to turn down another potential friend. Already two potential friends? You were so excited.

There was a bounce in your steps as you made your way down to the subway. Scanning your card, you made your way to the big group of people on the platform and waited for your train. Taking the subway was so new, yet refreshing. There was something exciting about seeing a brand new set of people board the cart every stop, it was almost like refreshing your Instagram feed over and over again.

After just a couple minutes more of waiting, your subway came. You naturally found your way in by shuffling along with the flock of people and found a good place to stand.

You surveyed your cart. Some high school students, a few elderly, and many many businesspeople dressed in attire very similar to you. They all seemed to be busy on their cellular devices, so you quickly pulled yours out as well, eager to blend in. Your little Tamagotchi friend was happy to see you.

The sound of the automated woman’s voice was what drew you out of your concentration, as she announced that the subway would be stopping at your destination next. When the subway stopped, the sea of people rushed out in a big tidal wave and you just went along with the flow.

The map posted on a big pillar in the station was difficult to read at first, but after embarrassingly asking a station officer, you were confident you knew where you were going. The station was big with many interwoven hallways, each connecting to a different location. It had a couple shops and convenience stores located along the sides where students running late could buy some bread or tired businesspeople could inject their early morning dose of caffeine.

You weaved your way through the long halls, confident that you could remember how you got out the right exit yesterday. Finally, after passing by many familiar stores and signs, you eventually made it above ground at the right exit. It was a cloudy September morning, the wind flew past you at just the right speed to elicit a slight shiver. You curse yourself for not bringing a jacket in your rush to the café. The streets were busy with cars zooming by, but it was nowhere near as congested as the subway traffic.

You started following your phone’s GPS to the marked location, and after a couple minutes, you spot the café. You immediately recognized it as a chain café as you’ve seen a few more of these scattered around the city as you got around. This one, however, appeared to be larger than the others (presumably because it was near so many big name companies) as it had three floors in total.

You texted Na-eun, telling her you’ve arrived. She let you know that they were both in one of the booths on the second floor, so you decided to order before heading up. Walking over to the cashier, you scanned their massive menu, trying to find what you were looking for.

“One mango juice, please.” You politely ordered. “And also a slice of the red velvet cake.”

After you had paid, you waited patiently, hands folded in front of you for your food. Because it wasn’t busy in the morning, it wasn’t that long until one of the baristas handed your food to you on a tiny plastic tray and you started making your way up. You reached the top floor and scanned your eyes around the room to find a familiar face.

“Y/n!” Na-eun waved.

You waved back and made your way over. She was in the booth, and there was another girl sitting beside her.

“Y/n, this is my roommate Yoojin.” She smiled at you and made a gesture towards the smaller girl sitting beside her. She was a fluffy haired girl. Her appearance was puppy-like, with her wide eyes and a large smile that was almost too big for her face.

“Hi Yoojin.” You said as you sat down.

“Hi Y/n! Na-eun told me about you yesterday. It seems like you have similar jobs.” She looked back at you with wide eyes. “But I think you got luckier because you actually get to interact with the idols.”

“I think both of us are lucky to even be working there,” you chuckled, “plus, I don’t actually get to be working directly with the artists. I could only wish.” You joked.

“Still extremely lucky, Na-eun told me she saw Bang Chan and Felix from Stray Kids at your building’s cafeteria yesterday.” Her hair bounced. “Finally, now I can say I’ve indirectly met famous people.”

You and Na-eun both laughed. Although Yoojin looked the same age as you, there was something about the way she acted that just seemed so precious and innocent — like a little sister. How old was she anyway?

“Yoojin’s younger than me by a few years,” Na-eun said as if she read your thoughts, “She graduated university a year early. Top of her programming class. She knows everything about technology; one time, I stupidly forgot the passcode to my P.O. box and she cracked it for me in less than fifteen minutes.”

“Stop it.” Yoojin whined, looking down and playfully hitting Na-eun on the shoulder. “I told you before that I don’t like it when you talk about me. Let’s talk about Y/n instead. Na-eun told me you’re not from here, what do you do at JYPE then?”

“I’m an assistant to help market some of the artists in China.” You leaned in a bit. “Actually, to be honest, I’m working on a secret project and Bang Chan from Stray Kids is technically part of the team.”

Both Yoojin and Na-eun’s eyes widened. “No way, you’re so lucky.” Yoojin said. “Why can’t you have a job like that?” She poked at Na-eun.

“Get your own job first,” Na-eun smirked, “then we can talk about mine.”

“Hey! I do have a job.” Yoojin clenched her jaw, looking at her plate and avoiding eye contact.

“I’m not sure if talking to people online all day counts as a job.”

“Whatever.” Yoojin swirled her fork on her plate, stabbing at a piece of her cake. The scraping of metal on ceramic made all of you wince.

“Anyways,” you started, trying to change the atmosphere, “did anybody watch the first episode of that new drama?”

The two girls seemed to have a mood switch, looking relieved to start a new conversation. They gladly added their input and opinions on the new drama, talking about both the plot and the actors. Time passed by twice as fast as the three of you sat at the booth talking about the most random things. However, it was soon time to go to work for both you and Na-eun.

“Hey, before you leave, could I get your number?” Yoojin asked. “We should hang out again sometime.”

You gladly typed your contact into her phone, excited to hang out with Yoojin again. She was so full of energy, it reminded you of your university days. Not to mention that fluffy curly hair. It was so cute.

You and Na-eun both made it out of the café and walked side-by-side over to your building before parting ways at the elevator corridor. It was a miracle that you managed to arrive at your cubicle in time, without getting lost. There was a pile of papers on your desk; they were the files you worked on yesterday. You remember that yesterday Manager Chen marked some improvements that could be made to the papers, but you checked your email just to be sure.

Hello Y/n,

I put the documents from yesterday on your desk for some final edits. I’ve also added a few more. Could you finish them all by the end of the day?

Best,

Manager Chen

You flipped through the stack of documents, and sure enough, there were about five more letters that needed to be worked on. Feeling determined, you gritted your teeth, got out your pen, and started to do your job.

There were more corrections to make than what you expected, plus, you wanted to make sure your work was perfect this time. You skipped a trip to the cafeteria for lunch and ate something from the vending machine at your desk instead. You tried your best to work diligently, but because of your inexperience, it was taking longer than expected. You lost track of time as the hours passed by.

“Your team is working hard today, Manager Chen.” A voice came from across the room. You looked up from your stack of documents to see Manager Kim walking over towards Manager Chen, who was standing casually outside her office doors.

“What can I say, I keep them busy.” She replied. “Are you heading home now?”

“Yes, and so should you.” Manaker Kim stopped at your cubicle, putting a hand on the wall. It was cat-like the way he looked at you. “Y/n, you’re working hard. Are you going home now? I’ll give you a ride.”

You couldn’t head home now, not with the amount of work you still had with the new letters Manager Chen added to the pile. “Thank you for the offer, Manager Kim, but I’ll stay later today. I need to finish this work by today.”

“Let her be, Manager Kim, you know how new employees are.” Manager Chen nagged and crossed her arms. “Come, I’ll walk you to the parking lot.”

You bowed at both your managers and stretched your back before getting back to your work. The black lines of both languages started to blur into one as you strained your eyes to hold a tighter focus on the documents. It wasn’t until two more gruesome hours later when you finished your work. You did a long deserved stretch of the arms and checked the clock for the time, praying that it wasn’t too late. Thankfully, with the time being only eight, it wasn’t that dark out. You took a quick peek at your phone to check your notifications before leaving the office.

There were only two texts sent fifteen minutes ago. Both from Bang Chan.

Your chest tightened when you unlocked your phone.

Bang Chan: Hey, I know it’s a bit late, but I have some ideas for the project and I was thinking we could meet up to discuss them

Bang Chan: Only if you want that is…

Your brain was in jumbles as you thought of what to text back. There were a couple staff that wrote you emails about their ideas for the project, but none of them asked to meet in person. And now, the first person who asked you to have a meeting in person was Bang Chan. Whom you rode back to your apartment drunk with. On your first day at work. And now you missed his work-related text by fifteen minutes. However, even though it was late, you still felt like you needed to take his ideas in. After all, like Manager Chen said, you know how new employees are.

Y/n: Hi, sorry my reply is late… Are you still free?

You anxiously stared at the blue-lit screen of your phone, jumping in and out of the text app waiting for a reply. After less than a minute, you saw the little dots at the bottom which indicated that he was typing. It disappeared for a moment, only to come back less than a second later. Your thumbs started unconsciously fiddling with one another in front of your phone screen as you waited for what felt like eternity.

Bang Chan: It’s alright haha

Bang Chan: There’s a cafe about 5 minutes from our building, wanna meet there?

You immediately knew which café he was talking about as you conveniently hung out with Na-eun there this morning. You texted Bang Chan back, letting him know that you would be there as soon as possible. You grabbed your bag, along with your trusty pen and notebook, before leaving your desk for the elevators. The elevator ride was unusually fast as it was already well past working hours for most people.

Once you were out of the building, you made your way down the familiar sidewalk, passing by the familiar street shops as you felt the bite of the wind against your face. The sky was becoming dim as the sun made its descent, but the illumination coming from the streetlamps helped guide you there. After five minutes of a brisk walk, you saw the familiar sign of the café. You also saw a familiar person standing outside the door, dressed in all black, with his head down looking at his phone.

You tried to make your footsteps slightly louder the closer you got to him in order to make your presence known. It seemed to have worked, as Bang Chan heard you and turned his head up. He immediately gave you a boyish grin, putting his phone in the pocket of his hoodie and pulling his face mask down to his chin.

“Hey,” You waved awkwardly, “did I make you wait long?”

“Not at all.” Bang Chan said as he held open the door, “Let’s go in, it’s pretty chilly today.”

You thanked him and walked inside. You both made your way to the cashier and looked up at the menu, deciding on what to buy.

“I think I’ll get an iced americano.” Bang Chan said. “Are you getting anything?”

“Hmm. I might get the mango juice.” You decided and lined up behind Bang Chan, waiting for him to order first.

Bang Chan walked up to the waiting barista. “Hello, I’ll get an iced americano please.” A second passed. “Also a mango juice.”

Your eyes widened as you silently tried to stop him from buying your drink, feeling embarrassed that Bang Chan — who was essentially your coworker — was buying your drink. He didn’t seem to notice your quiet protests, as he pulled his card out of his wallet and quickly tapped it on the pin pad. After he was done paying, he turned around and tucked his card back in his wallet, giving you a smug grin.

“I’ll pay you back later.” You insisted, embarrassed once again that he was doing something for you.

“Of course, of course.” He casually replied and stood beside you with his hands in the pocket of his hoodie. “I’ll wait for our drinks. You can go find a table.”

You nodded and left to find a table on the first floor. Surprisingly, there were more people there at night than when you were there in the morning. Some people had their textbooks out to study, some were quietly enjoying a book. Some were on dates.

Finally, after weaving through many fully filled tables, you found an empty one near the table. You sat down, taking out your pen and notebook to prepare for Bang Chan’s ideas. Not long after, you saw Bang Chan walking around, turning his head left and right to look for you. You caught his eye as you waved at him to come over. He strolled over and put the tray of drinks down on the table, placing yours beside your notebook.

“So,” You took a sip of your delicious mango juice, “do you wanna get started now?”

“Sure.” His usually friendly face turned serious. It seemed like he took his work seriously. “So I was thinking, we need to film some content to start promoting our debut right? How about we film content for the Mid-Autumn Festival? It falls on the same day as Chuseok, so we can use this as a small promotion for our debut.”

You nodded in agreement. Although this idea would be a little last minute to carry out, it was a great opportunity to promote their group in order to gain more popularity before their debut in China. “This is a great idea Bang Chan,” You hurriedly jotted down everything he said, “did you have more to add on?”

“We could make several episodes of this content. I was thinking we could camp in the mountains and maybe cook some food, make mooncakes.”

“All of this is really good, we have three weeks until the actual Mid-Autumn Festival. If I rush this idea to Manager Chen, we could have one week to plan it, and two weeks to film and produce it.” You beamed, glad that you could be involved in a potential big production.

You and Bang Chan kept discussing his idea for content, and as time passed, your conversation turned more casual as it eventually evolved into topics unrelated to work.

“So, why are you having coffee this late anyway?” You tipped your chin towards his glass.

“There’s this part of a song I’m working on that I just can’t get perfect,” Bang Chan noticeably clenched his jaw, “I wanna figure it out before I leave.”

“Do you usually stay up late to work?” You asked.

“I can’t sleep anyways, so I might as well work.”

“Insomnia?” You questioned. He shrugged his shoulders and took a sip of his coffee. A few seconds of silence passed. “You know, my mom made me pack some of her special tea before leaving. She said it was for jet lag, which is weird because there’s only a time difference of an hour here.” You rambled.

“Oh?” Bang Chan tipped his head.

“I could give you some tomorrow.” You said. Your eyes wandered everywhere except to him. “If you want.”

“Really, you’d do that?” His eyes widened as he stirred his coffee with his straw.

It may have been your subconscious need to make friends, or just the fact that you mom gave you so much tea for your non-existent jet lag, but you gladly offered your mom’s solve-all remedy. “Of course, anything for a friend.”

He blinked a couple times. He stopped stirring his coffee. “Thanks.” He looked at you with a slight grin.

“Plus, this way I can pay you back.” You teased.

“Okay, fair enough.” He chuckled. A dimple appeared on his cheek as his smile widened. “But seriously, you don’t need to worry about paying me back for anything next time.”

Next time? You wondered. Of course he would have more ideas for his own group. You wanted to roll your eyes at yourself. It seemed like, despite his easy-going personality, that he cared a lot about not only his job, but the boys he worked with. His work ethic inspired you and made you want to work just as hard as he did. Except you definitely couldn’t stay up as late as he did.

The two of you kept up the back and forth that was established, talking about whatever came to mind, with a few sprinklings of work-related conversations throughout. You talked about your first day impressions and how well you were adjusting to life in a new country, and he retaliated by sharing his own experiences of moving across the world. You were so enraptured by your riveting conversations that you easily lost track of time. It wasn’t until you had already spent minutes playing around with your straw in the empty glass that you finally remembered how late it was.

“It’s kinda late, I think I should get going now.” You said as you checked your phone for the time.

“Are you taking the subway?” He asked as he started gathering the empty glasses. “It’s pretty dark now — I could walk you there.”

“It’s alright. I don’t wanna take time from your work” You said, gathering your notebook and pen.

“It’s no problem, really, it’s just a five minute walk.” He stood up with the tray of empty glasses in one hand and pulled up his face mask with the other.

The two of you left the café and walked the short distance to the subway stairs. There, you parted ways and you started your trek home. Taking the subway at night was vastly different from morning; the morning rush was filled with rows and rows of busy people, whereas the night train had a completely different feeling to it. There were actually available seats, to begin with. You found an empty seat and took out your phone to kill time. You checked your missed notifications.

Yoojin: Hi Y/n!! ^-~ Today was so fun, we should go again sometime!

You smiled at the little text from Yoojin, visioning her wide smile stretch across her face. Texting a quick reply back, you were about to put your phone back down when another notification popped up.

Unknown: Stay away from him. This is a warning.

A flash of panic rushed through your body making your chest tighten. Your heart was coming out of your chest, the beating was so hard you could hear it even in the running subway. Completely fixated on the bright white of your phone, your eyes strained from the light. Adrenaline filled your blood, and in the spur of the moment, you quickly blocked the number and deleted the text chain. It had to just be a prank text, after all, you have gotten pranked through text multiple times before in your past.

You put your phone down slowly, turning your head to survey your subway cart for any suspicious acting people. There was only a grandma with her cane and a few middle school girls comparing their new lip tints. Your thumbs naturally started fiddling with each other. Your eyebrows knit together as you clutched your bag tight to your body for the rest of the subway ride.

The walk back to your apartment was done carefully. You chose the side of the sidewalk with more light as you kept your senses open, trying to remember the face of every person that walked past you. Although it was more likely than not that the text was just a prank, you were still somebody living alone with very few connections in a new country. Your legs quickened at the thought and you hurried your way back.

Arriving at your apartment door, you carefully entered your lock combination and slammed your door shut, double checking that it was locked. Your home was dark, with only the moon casting long shadows on your furniture. You quickly switched your light on. You tried to put this text to the back of your mind as you got ready to sleep, but it loomed, feeling like a shadow cast by the moon. The shadow in your mind stayed as you closed your eyes, waiting for your sleep to chase it away.

The next morning, you woke up to the obnoxious beeping of your alarm. You sleepily sat up, getting ready to perform your familiar morning routine. Everything felt like routine, so monotonous that the text from last night was completely forgotten. You opened the fridge and ate your suspicious egg from yesterday morning.

Before leaving, you suddenly remembered to bring your mom’s magical tea. You rummaged through the cupboards until you found the ridiculous packaging your mom insisted on using.

The route to work was already starting to feel familiar as you mindlessly made your way from your quaint apartment all the way to the opulent blue building. You entered the office and sat at your desk, checking for new emails. After nothing of immediate importance came up, you got out your notebook and started to type up your notes from yesterday.

You were in a trance. The repetitive task of reading and typing completely hypnotised you as hours passed by without you even noticing. What broke you out of your trance, however, was the voice of your boss.

“Bang Chan.” Manager Chen called out. You looked up from your monitor and peeked up from your cubicle to see the familiar hair of a certain man you knew. Assuming he was here for a meeting with Manager Chen, you went back to your hypnotising work. The walls of your cubicle were too high for him to see you anyways — something about eliminating distractions to maximise work efficiency.

You hit ‘enter’ on your keyboard to start a new paragraph when all of a sudden, you spotted an object appear on your desk from the corner of your eye.

A bottle of mango juice.

Quickly turning your head around, you were met with Bang Chan’s back. He was already making strides towards Manager Chen, but something about the sway of his broad shoulders and the way his right hand stretched open told you that it was him who gave you this little bottle of happiness. You unscrewed the lid and took a sip before getting back to work.

Thankfully, the gift you received was enough sugar content to keep you working efficiently for the rest of the day. You had finished all your work and could hopefully pitch Manager Chen the idea by tomorrow. You found your mom’s tea in your bag while gathering your stuff, remembering your promise to Bang Chan.

Y/n: Hey, I have my mom’s tea — I could give it to you right now?

There was a reply almost immediately.

Bang Chan: Sure ^^ I’m in a practice room on floor X right now, I’ll wait by the elevators.

You made your way over to the elevators and tapped your nails on the package of tea whilst silently waiting for an elevator to arrive. The silence, however, was promptly cut off as your phone started to ring. It was from Yoojin. She probably wants to hang out soon, you thought as you happily answered right away.

“Y/n!” Yoojin yelled into the phone, she sounded worried.

“Yoojin, is there something wrong?” You frowned, concerned for the girl.

“I-I was in the parking lot near your building, a-and I fell down the stairs.” She sniffed. “I think I sprained my ankle or something — I can’t stand up. It hurts so much.”

“Oh god, Yoojin, do you want me to come help?” You were in the elevator by now, already pressing the button for the main floor.

“If you’re not far, I don’t want to trouble you.” You heard sounds of her wincing.

“It’s no trouble Yoojin,” You exclaimed, “your ankle is much more important now. I’ll be right there.”

“Thank you Y/n.” You heard her sniff again through the phone.

You bolted out of the elevator as soon as it reached the main floor, stuffing your forgotten package in your bag. Ignoring the looks of confusion of the people you sprinted past, you located the parking lot building as soon as you left the main doors of the JYPE building. Your chest burned and your breaths were heavy.

You were worried for Yoojin. She seemed like such a sweet girl that it pained you to even imagine her hurt in any sort of way. With her fluffy hair and wide eyes, it made you feel like you were helping an injured puppy.

Your legs felt like concrete after a while of running, but you finally made it to the parking lot building. Entering the parking lot, you looked for any sign of a staircase where Yoojin said she fell on. There were none.

“Excuse me, where are the stairs to this parking lot?” You asked the parking lot attendant, assuming it was just hidden somewhere.

“There are no stairs here,” He said, “if you want to get to the second floor, there is an elevator over there.” He pointed to the other side of the lot.

You thanked the man and ran to the elevator, hoping Yoojin wasn’t too hurt by now. You’ve experienced injuries like these before whilst playing sports back home, they hurt like hell. Your breathing was staggered by the time you reached the elevator, however, you didn’t give up and kept looking around trying to find the girl. There was nobody. You were about to call Yoojin again just to make sure you were in the correct place, but a voice interrupted you.

“Y/n.”

It was Manager Kim.

#stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #bang chan #bang chan smut #bang chan fluff #bang chan scenarios #bang chan imagines #bang chan angst

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nat-20s · 3 years

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for @jonmartinweek day 8! (which I definitely realized was happening and for sure did not forget lmao). The prompt was free day/au, so I picked my own theme of “pets”. The last few fics have been pretty loaded, so please enjoy some pure post canon (literal and figurative) fluff

~*~

“I can’t believe I married a dog person.”

They weren’t even supposed to be in the shelter. They had made no plans to visit a shelter. However, as Jon has been learning over the course of the past couple years, a Martin not under duress and given free time outside will inevitably end up trying to befriend any living nonhuman creature in the immediate vicinity.

“I’m not a dog person.”

“The lapful of beagle puppy would indicate otherwise.”

“Just because I appreciate the company of a very good boy, yes you are, doesn’t mean I’m a dog person. Dog person implies I have a preference. I like cats equally as much as I like dogs. Unlike some of us, my heart is open to all manner of furry friends.”

“I don’t...hate dogs.”

“Uh-huh. Is that why you won’t pet Rufio here?”

“He’s nippy, I don’t trust him. And it’s just that dogs are A Lot. I find most of them a bit overwhelming. And needy.”

“Pff, that’s no excuse. You’ve been best friends with overwhelming, and you married needy.”

Martin lets out a distracted giggle as Rufio finally gets in a lick on his face. Okay, maybe it is a pretty adorable sight, but that’s hardly sufficient enough evidence to actually let such an energetic ball of fluff into their home. Still, it’s enough to convince Jon to sit down next to them, and give Rufio a very tentative scritch behind the ears. “I think we both qualify as the needy one in our relationship.”

“Pretty sure that’s called codependency. What would our therapist say?”

“She’d probably say that’s a bit harsh. And that we still need to work on our separation anxiety.”

“Hey, you know what helps with separation anxiety?”

“No.”

“A dog!”

“No!”

They get a dog. Their flat is decently sized and they both have steady incomes and enough free time between them to take proper care of her. They don’t get Rufio, but instead a 7 year old mutt named Daffodil who is, admittedly, the most gentle and sweet creature Jon’s ever met. They also get a cat, a rambunctious 2 year old tabby named Jack (“We can change the name.” “Jon! How dare you! Jack responds to his name, clearly he likes it!”) who had already decided Daffodil was his mom, and they couldn’t possibly bear not adopting them together.

~*~

“You know, we could get a tarantula.”

“Fuck off.”

“I’m serious! They’re not, like, evil in this universe, and some of them have cutest little pink toesie woesies.”

“You’re not serious, you’re being a bastard, and I hate you.”

Martin wraps his arms around Jon’s waist and presses a kiss to the side of his face, which Jon gives a half-hearted swat at, because, again, the man’s being a bastard. Stubbornly ignoring Jon’s pout, Martin presses his cheek to the top of Jon’s head, cheerfully replying, “I’m fine with that, as long as you promise to hate me for the rest of our lives.”

“Well, I certainly can’t make that promise. I won’t even hate you ten seconds from now. I suppose you’ll have to settle for love instead.”

“Hmm. Deal.”

“We’re still not getting a fucking tarantula.”

They do not get a tarantula. Their home remains admirably spider free.

~*~

Martin’s gasp is loud enough to echo, and Jon can feel him begin to vibrate next to him. The excitement is perplexing at first, they’ve been to this bookstore dozens of times, and it’s never elicited this sort of response. Then Jon looks over to the front counter, where a medium-sized cage and a “For adoption” sign have been put on display. With a wild, jubilant glee, Martin asks, “Sonja! Are those baby. Dumbo. Rats?!”

“Sure are! I’ve got a friend who’s a breeder, I take it you’re interested?”

“Yes, absolutely, 100%, we’re getting two immediately.”

“Well…”

Martin snaps his head over to look at Jon with a look of betrayal the likes of which Jon hasn’t seen since the panopticon. “Jonathan, no!”

“Um.”

“You can not tell me you you don’t like rats! Dumbo rats especially!”

“I…”

Ticking off on his fingers, Martin lists, “They’re adorable, they’re smart, they’re cleanly, they’re extremely empathetic, they’re tickilish, which is stupidly cute, they can be trained to use a litter box and do tricks, they’re snuggly and playful and perfect! They’re all the good parts of dogs combined with the best parts of cats in one tiny portable package! Look at their little ears, that are like that because of a slight difference in skull shape that has no negative health effects! Plus, we can set them up in the project room, since Captain Jack isn’t allowed in there anyway. How can you dislike rats?”

“I don’t know! They just sort of..freak me out. Or not all of them, just their feet. I don’t like their little man hands.”

Martin throws his arms in the air, proclaiming, “Their little man hands are one of their best qualities! Look, Jon, are you genuinely afraid of them, or just slightly discomfited?”

“I would say mediumly discomfited. This isn’t like spiders.”

“Cool. ‘Cause in that case, we’re getting the light tan one and the solid white one, their names shall be Peaches and Cream, and you will love them as much as you love our dog and cat children.”

“That’s a rather bold claim.”

“It’s an accurate one. You’ll see.”

Within a week, Jon is transporting Peaches ‘n’ Cream in the pocket of his hoodie, and he can feel Martin’s smug aura from two rooms away. Damn him.

~*~

“Did you know snakes don’t have an amygdala?”

“Okay? You didn’t have to bring me to a reptile store to tell me that.”

“I didn’t bring you to a reptile store to tell you that. I brought you to a reptile store because I want to hold a cornsnake.”

Jon rolls his eyes, but the fondness in his voice somewhat undercuts it. “Of course you do.”

Martin makes a scaly acquaintance in less than two minutes, and as the snake coils around his fingers, he continues, “Anyway, if they don’t have amygladas, do they feel fear in a way similar to us, or is it only a recognition of threats and instinctual response?”

“Martin, my love, I have no idea. Is this going somewhere? It’s fine if not, I’m just checking in.”

“Yes. Because if they don’t feel fear, I’m getting this snake and naming her Georgie.”

That makes Jon let out a sharp bark of laugh, and, for a moment, he’s able to reminisce without any pain. “You know, I think she’d actually love that? She also had a proclivity for all creatures great and small. And a terrible sense of humor.”

“Wow, you really have a type, huh. Also hey! My sense of humor is fantastic! It always makes my husband laugh, and he has very exacting standards.”

“Liar. Your husband finds joy with you at the slightest provocation, no good sense of humor needed.”

“Hmm. He is a bit of a softie, isn’t he? Which is why he’ll let me get this snake.”

“He most certainly will not.”

“But….look at her….”

“It’s not a matter of how cute she is, dear. It’s a matter of you made us get pet rats less than a month ago, there’s absolutely no way you’re going to be able to feed mice to a snake.”

Martin looks at the cornsnake, looks at Jon, looks back, and his shoulders slump. With a wince, he asks, “Maybe frozen mice won’t be too bad?”

“What if she’s picky?”

“...There are species of snake that only eat bugs.”

“Cornsnakes aren’t one of them.”

Waving over an assistant, Martin puts the cornsnake back with a defeated, “Fine. When you’re right, you’re right.”

Jon doesn’t particularly feel like he’s won an argument. In fact, he’s a bit disappointed himself, he always liked snakes. Big fan of reptiles in general, actually, which is probably what drives him to say, “Lizards don’t usually eat mice.”

That’s how they walk out of the store with three leopard geckos.

~*~

Jon’s helping Martin set up the gecko tank in what can now be affectionately called a zoo when all of the sudden it strikes him. Some of the animals in their home right now have life spans of 10-20 years, and never once had the necessary longevity of care come up as a reason to protest against them. Jon had felt so at ease with the concept of a future that he hadn’t even thought about it, hadn’t been steeling himself for the other shoe to drop. He’s stopped having bated breath every time something good happens, instead taking reassurance in a sense of permanence that he wasn’t sure he’d ever feel again. Martin must hear his breath hitch, because he immediately stops what he’s doing to take Jon’s hand into his own. “Something wrong, love?”

Jon shakes his head. “No, nothing. I suppose I’m realizing that we have time, don’t we?”

Martin must know exactly what he means, the weight behind the words, because he brings Jon’s hand to his lips and says, “Yes. Yes, we really, really do.”

#jonmartinweek2021 #jonmartin #jon sims #martin blackwood #tma #post canon #THIS IS JUST ME PROJECTING ON MARTIN FOR 1500 WORDS LMAO #also to anyone that spots the song lyric: :3 #also also the leopard geckos names are kirk spock and bones #or as jon calls them #captain first officer and CMO

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amysteriousmessenger · 3 years

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‘How the warmth will melt the ice’ - GE Suit Saeran/Reader fic

Title: How the warmth will melt the ice Pairing: Post-canon GE Suit Saeran/Reader (mainly GN with two uses of she/her) Rating: SFW but references to his in-game actions Word Length: 3.4K Summary: post-GE Suit Saeran hasn't seen you in a while, he's been working on stuff in the headspace. One night, he's the only one awake and he's been doing some thinking while you sleep next to him in the bed. Soft, a bit of hurt/comfort. I'm not an expert on DID so please let me know if I've written or phrased something incorrectly!! <3

Saeran had been in the headspace for quite a while. It’s not that he wasn’t allowed out, he just wasn’t sure he trusted himself enough to ever come out, and most definitely not in the company of other people. He had seen how happy the ‘New’ Saeran had made you, how he treated you with such care and tenderness and considered your feelings above all else. Saeran didn’t trust himself not to ruin it for all of them, especially given his previous actions. They all held that behaviour against him and he was well aware of that, he held it against himself too. He was too angry at the world, and he hadn’t entirely processed that despite all of the time that he had been away. There had been many times where he had criticised Ray for being weak, yet Ray had already been out several times and Saeran never felt brave enough for it. It had also taken him a while to address that, yes, he was perhaps the weakest one out of them all. He never felt like he was ready to properly face his actions even after he had apologised. After all, he was reminded of it every time he saw you through their eyes. He was there every time they brought you food, every time they held your hand, or pulled you into their arms. He was there for all of it. So, sometimes saying ‘sorry’ just wasn’t enough.

He had tried to take over as the host on a few separate occasions while you were at work or out shopping, with the intention of just existing around the house for a little while, but it never worked out so well. He’d sit there for a few minutes, staring at his hands and at what they had done to you before beginning to resent himself even more. Saeran had seen how his hands could hold you with such sweetness and affection, and yet, when he was the one that controlled them they only seemed to inflict destruction upon people. He’d remember that and immediately let the ‘New’ Saeran take over the body, retreating back into his own self-enforced solitary confinement. You were never to know that he had appeared, he made sure that the others were aware of that. Even when you’d asked about him, if he was still in there, he had asked them to speak of him scarcely. He’d see you again in his own time, if he wanted to. He’d always try to ignore the sadness in your eyes when the others told you that, but he thought it was for the best; he’d only ruin the stupid happiness that you had stumbled your way into with the better parts of him.

The night he saw you again, Saeran was the only one awake when he felt you shudder. He blinked, staring at the ceiling for the first time in God knows how long. He hadn’t experienced the world in quite a while, so it took him a few seconds to gather his thoughts. His first reaction was to complain that he had been woken up at such a time, but he had been trying to work on not jumping to immediate anger when it wasn’t justified. He tried to process his surroundings one at time. He was in bed, next to you. It was dark, probably still night-time, and he could hear the cat downstairs running throughout the corridors. The room smelled faintly of lavender, and he knew that one of the others picked it regularly to help the both of you sleep. He felt you shift. He hadn’t seen you in so long, but even as you laid on the other side of the bed to him, he dared not tilt his head out of fear of waking you. The room was quiet aside from the sound of your breathing, but Saeran stared ahead, rigid. Why had he been the one to wake up? It was not as though there was anything happening that required him in particular, one of the others could have easily woken up instead of him. Someone who was needed.

Saeran moved his eyes to your sleeping form, his breath catching in his throat as you slowly rolled onto your back. He didn’t want to wake you up, but he could have laughed. You were never a graceful sleeper. You had your arms above your head with one leg sticking out from underneath the blanket. Perhaps that meant that you weren’t scared of a monster grabbing your ankle from underneath the bed during the night, maybe you had too much faith in the monster in the first place. He watched you for a few moments, his eyes following each subtle rise and fall of your sleeping chest and wondering how anyone could trust him enough to sleep next to him, to let their guard down so stupidly like that.

Of course, this wasn’t the first time he’d seen you sleeping, but it felt as though it was a lifetime ago that he was watching you through CCTV; something that he could never believe he was actually doing. Something lurched in his stomach at the intrusive memory and he began to spiral like he had done each time he was in control of the body, or thought he was in control of it, anyway. It hurt him, but he didn’t take his eyes off of you. While it wasn’t him providing it, you were happier now. Healthier. There was no one to take away your food or trap you behind closed doors. No one to scream that your eyes were ugly. It had taken him too long to realise that the only reason he thought your eyes was ugly was because he could see himself reflected back in them. He could see himself screaming the way his mother had screamed at him, screaming the same things.

Saeran didn’t know how the others had managed to process everything so quickly, although he guessed that the fact that he was adamant about doing it in silence, refusing the therapists help, had something to do with it. Part of the reason he had rejected the therapists attempt to speak to him was because that would be admitting that he needed the help, and Saeran had worked so hard to convince himself that he did not need to rely on anyone for so long that he was not ready to let that barrier come down, especially not to someone he did not know. Besides, he had a slight distaste for the fact she had referred to him as ‘the persecutor’, as though he didn’t have a name. He knew that the other alters in the headspace had anger, had a rage for how they had been treated, but it was no longer their priority. They had each chosen to let go of that grudge in order to enjoy the life that lay ahead of them, and beside them. But Saeran was built with so much anger that it felt as though he consisted only of guarded walls lined with barbed wire, so much so that even if someone stupidly attempted to climb those walls, they would not get away unscathed. He had protected himself with that rage and had needed it to retaliate to anyone who had dared hurt them again. He had to be the strongest because he had too frequently been the weakest.

He was breathing a little heavier, probably from all of the thoughts rushing around his already too busy head. But through learned experience, Saeran was very good at staying quiet and tried to keep his breathing steady so he didn’t wake you up and have to explain himself. It wasn’t as though he could just pretend to be one of the others, he wouldn’t do himself a disservice like that. Once he saw that you were still comfortably asleep, he started to relax a little bit, tilting his head in your direction.

He knew the body was used to being in the bed beside you, but it was still his first time experiencing it as himself. It was a weird concept to him. How did the other Saeran do it? Did he sleep right up beside you, holding you? Or maybe he slept on his back too, since Saeran had woken up on his back. What about Ray, did he still cower on the side of the bed, his back pressed up against the wall? Ready to leap out at any sudden noise? Questions he would never ask them, but often wondered the answers to. In the darkness, Saeran felt as though he could be a little more honest with himself; as though it acted as a blanket for his emotions. He had hidden himself in the darkness for so long that there was a certain comfort to it. He couldn’t see what was lurking around the corner, but he also couldn’t be seen by whatever was waiting for him. It was a more equal playing field.

You shifted again, calling his gaze to your hand. You clenched and unclenched and then clenched again, as though something in your dream was requiring your attention. He wanted to reach out and hold your hand in the same way that the others did, but he couldn’t. Primarily, because he didn’t want to wake you, but also because Saeran didn’t think that he deserved to do so. You’d held out your hand to him so many times and each time he’d smacked it away, or worse, used that extended hand against you. His eyes remained focused on it, placed next to your sleeping head, so soft and small in comparison to his own. He sighed at the guilt seeping into his body as he remembered when you had tried to push him away with those hands, pressing them against his chest. At the time, in some sickened sense, it had amused him that you were so easy to physically overpower, and it gave him such a sense of joy that, for the first time, he was the stronger one in a dynamic. Now, he knew it was because your hands were not made to carry such a destructive force. You hadn’t hurt him because you hadn’t wanted to hurt him, you’d pitied him because you could already see the agony that he was writhing in, whereas he was almost blind to it.

Saeran didn’t deserve to, and yet, he wanted to hold your hand. To feel the warmth that was always so denied to him. He was jealous of the others who could do it so freely, who did not have to sit in anguish over it. The guiltless ones, he carried their guilt for them. He guessed that it was the price he had to pay to be allowed to take up the space he called his own, and for the other ones to be able to live so happily. His own hand twitched under the blanket as he slowly freed it from beneath the sheets. He didn’t place it on yours, but gently positioned it on the pillow next to it, just a few inches away. After a moment of consideration, and calculating the risk, Saeran held his breath and slowly moved the side of his finger up against your hand. His own skin was always cold, but yours was so much warmer than he could have imagined. It held so much love, love that he was so undeserving of. He kept his hand frozen against yours, not daring to move it any closer but not wanting to pull it away.

There were so many thoughts and confusing feelings rushing through Saeran’s head, but he was so grounded by your warm touch that he just wanted to fall asleep in it where he knew you could keep him safe and secure. Perhaps it wouldn’t have been so bad if he could have allowed himself a little bit of vulnerability while no one was awake to witness it. They couldn’t prove that he had let his guard down. Saeran’s cool eyes focused on the sight of your hands against one another before he started to close his eyes and drift off; comforted by the lavender and the skin to skin contact. He wanted to sleep knowing that you were right beside him, just within his reach.

That was, at least, until he heard soft whimpers coming from your side of the bed. It sounded as though you were crying. He began to panic, pulling his own hand away in case he had somehow hurt you. Although he couldn’t do it audibly, Saeran began to curse himself for being the one who had woken up, it should have been one of the others, someone who wouldn’t ruin everything. You were going to leave him, he was going to be abandoned once again and it was all his fault and-

‘S…Sae-ran…’ You whispered, snapping him out of his myriad of self-destruction. He’d woken you up and you were going to scream when you saw him, reliving the horror that he had put you through. The horror that the others had worked so hard to fix in his place. He froze, the predator becoming the prey and burning up his fight or flight response. It was difficult for him to see in the dark but he was able to hear you moving around in the sheets, before muttering his name once more. Well, it was his name, but he knew you weren’t calling for him. He squinted, trying to make out what was happening, and it quickly occurred to him that you were having a nightmare. What did you have to fear when you were asleep? What creatures haunted your dreams and chased you through the forest? He wondered, briefly, in that sad moment, if he was the one in your nightmare, taunting you and robbing you of your freedom. What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t wake you up, then you’d know it was him and not your beloved Saeran. It was him in his place, the wrong one. He couldn’t wake you up, freeing you from one monster and then forcing you straight into the company of another.

‘Pull her closer.’ The thought came to him in a whisper, but he wasn’t quite sure if it was his own or one of the others. His hands seemed to move on their own as he scooped you up, pulling you against his chest. Was he trembling? He hadn’t realised he was holding his breath until he sighed. He had had a lot of practice of not making a sound while breathing. This time, when he breathed, all he could smell was you. Your perfume, your shampoo, even the lipbalm you wore for bed. It was like another drug. He’d had you this close to him before, but never like this, never with the tenderness that he managed on that occasion. It was new for him too, allowing someone to get so close. He thought about how many times he had told you that you smelled disgusting, how you made him feel sick to even be around, but it couldn’t have been further from the truth. You smelled like a comfort he had never had.

You sleepily hugged him back, entirely unaware of anything except for the soft embrace of arms around your back: protecting you from whatever ailment plagued you in your sleep. After a minute or so of being pressed against his chest, you stopped shaking. His gaze fell to you, taking in the tired features of your face and carefully watching them melt into a happy peace. The two of you laid there in one another’s embrace in the middle of the bed for a while. Saeran felt such utter confliction at the idea of being the one to hold you. He felt guilty, deciding that you only wanted his touch thinking it was the better Saeran, and that he had somehow deceived you by being the one to hold you in his place. And yet, there was an odd sense of pride pooling in his chest that, this time, he was able to help you instead of hurt you. That was a first for him. It was small, and he was uncertain of it, but he had the hope that perhaps he would able to provide the blanket you needed like the others could. He could be the arms to protect you, instead of the ones you needed protecting from.

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed awake to watch you sleep for, but he wanted to savour the private moment while he still could before you knew it was him. ‘Would it be so bad if she did know?’ That same voice said but he did not have the time it ponder it before he felt the effects of the lavender weighing heavy on the air. He thought that, given how much they enjoyed being outside, that one of the others would have opened the window to let some air in before going to bed. Ironic, really. Maybe it was intentional. After all, you weren’t the only one to get nightmares and needed coaxing to go back to sleep. If there was one thing they had all learned from Rika, it was the effectiveness of plants.

His eyes were getting heavy, and Saeran was no longer someone to pass up on the opportunity of sleep when it was offered to him. He had years of it to make up for. While he could, he placed his chin on top of your head, pulling you a little closer as he did so. His heart was thudding so heavily against his ribcage, to the point he thought maybe that would be what’d wake you up, and that would really be a kick in the teeth for him. However, you squeezed yourself closer to him, causing him to release a shaky sigh. You wanted him closer. It was the feeling of your embrace that Saeran felt before falling back asleep, and he noted the fact that this was the first time he was being held. It was… nice. Safe.

That next morning, you awoke to the smell of breakfast, and heard a couple of cluttering pans in the kitchen. While it was pretty usual for Saeran or Ray to bring you breakfast in bed, he was usually pretty quiet about it, so you thought that maybe he was trying a new recipe and that it had gone wrong. You shuffled out of bed, brushing your teeth and washing your face before heading into the kitchen. Saeran stood with his back to you, fully dressed in his usual white shirt and black trousers, facing the oven. His hair was a little messy, but no one rolled out of bed with perfect hair. It was cute.

‘Good morning, my love.’ You said, wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing a little kiss into his back before putting the kettle on.

‘Mornin’.’ Saeran replied, casually. You paused for a second, wondering why he didn’t greet you with one of his typical flowery greetings, or at the very least a term of endearment, but brushed it off figuring that he might just be a little bit tired since it was still pretty early.

‘What do you wanna eat?’ He asked as you set two cups down on the breakfast table before pulling your seat out. His tones and mannerisms were a little different than usual, and you thought- No. Both Ray and Saeran assured you that he wasn’t ready yet. Surely, he wouldn’t just turn up one morning without warning.

‘It looks like you tried to make eggs.’ You laughed, his back still towards you as he cracked another egg into the frying pan and discarded the shell to the side of the oven.

‘Yeah, fuckin’ harder than I remember them being.’ He said, which definitely made you do a double take.

‘Who… are you, if you don’t mind me asking?’ You asked tentatively, not wanting to upset whoever the Saeran in front of you was. You knew he didn’t mind your questions since they never came from a place of malice anyway, but you always wanted to be considerate regardless.

He turned around, leaning back up against the kitchen side. He folded his arms but displayed a very distinctive smirk that you had not seen in so long. It was different this time though, his blue eyes were different. They were still tormented and anguished, but it was no longer directed at you. The ice in his eyes had begun to thaw.

‘What? Don’t you recognise me, doll?’

#mystic messenger #mystic messenger x reader #saeran choi #saeran choi x reader #mystic messenger fanfiction #mystic messenger reader insert #mystic messenger self insert #mystic messenger headcanons #mystic messenger hcs #mystic messenger hc #mystic messenger headcanon #mysme

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