#this was born out of the fact i am trying to exercise more outside of my daily walks

[nancywheeeler]

"getting my steps in—" no!! just take a walk. stop assigning pseudo numeric values to things that are supposed to be enjoyable.

#i hate you fitbits. i hate you 3000 step work outs. i hate you wellness industrial complex. #i love accomplishing a goal as much as the next person #but i simply do not see the life benefits of literally tracking your every move #seriously just do what peach pit says and take a walk #listen to the wind blow. watch the sun rise. #a shout into the void #this was born out of the fact i am trying to exercise more outside of my daily walks #but every youtube work out video is some variation of '[X] calorie burner!!' '[X] steps!!' stop it. #i just want to get my heart rate up to some abba

[shiratoribounce]

the great cybernetic vortex

i am a genius. there is no doubt about that. but dear reader, please do not misunderstand me, i am also a great buffoon. a man who is talented enough to be both, a man who can subscribe to both notions of invincibility and vulnerability. should i prescribe to homogeneities, will that be cause for any more living? i pose to you a question, dear reader. i am a man of many faces. you may even consider me a savant of consumerism. ask me if you will, of any piece of music, art, fashion, literature, and i can point to you in the right direction. lay me the groundwork of your curiosities, and i can pave the way for our conversation to be a seamless experience for you. why you may ask -- well the answer is simple -- i am a man who consumes. a purely masturbatory hobby that allows me to exercise the very right of being human -- the right to embody an experience without having to deal with the trials and tribulations that lead up to the final work of the piece. why must i deal with the pain of becoming deaf and hungry, when i can listen to beethoven why must i deal with the pain of loneliness and sickness, when i can read kavka? i do not want to experience such consequences directly, but indirectly, that i can do that for you. does this allow me to become an embodiment of the things i consider dear to me? that is my question to you.

you see reader, it is my talent of being able to lead the footsteps of the creators of what i consume that allows me to thrive. it takes significant talent. i have taken many years devoted to shut myself within the confines of my room, and subscribe to the cybernetic vortex. it is i who has submitted myself to years of isolation from the real world to truly understand the contours of the artifacts i consume. i am therefore a ghost, a virtual human being that emulates the teachings of the cybernetic vortex. the amalgamation of curiosity and apathy, the divine collector of the menageries of information. the garments i wear have become costume, an emblematic right that signifies to the world that i am the purveyor of the cybernetic vortex -- a hero of the artifact, the perfect image of a curator. for years i have gathered the very artifacts that i found interesting (on both a tangible and invisible level), and have worn those very artifacts on my sleeves. my fashion senses are impeccable, alongside my tastes in music, art, literature, etc. the cybernetic vortex is in a constant motion, and i hold the divine power of swirling it everyday. and it is you, reader, and anyone else who is around me, who appreciates my lust for consumption. you have fallen victim to it. you have fallen into the cybernetic vortex with me. and by this very objective fact i am a genius, born with a divine power that separates me from you. however this posits a serious dilemma for me. i have become sick. i have become plagued with the own image i see in my reflections. i am only able to make out the contours of my figure, but the man who stares back at me is nothing but a swirling figure of eighty three different colors and words. i ask him who he is, but he his voice is of discord, a misaligned note in a harmonious chord. a tremor in my spine. a bead of sweat on my head. the dizziness in my eyes. i cannot stare any longer. but the more i try to close my eyes, or avoid my reflection, the louder i can hear his voice. i become completely nauseated, debilitated from such a feeling in my stomach. i have become afraid to go outside. to exercise my knowledge of the teachings of this cybernetic vortex. and so therefore reader, simultaneously i am a buffoon. you see reader, you may believe that i have been helpless, a dog who cannot do anything for himself. but in fact you are wrong. every day, i have been adjusting, fine tuning every day to find the exact symptoms of my sickness and readjust. however with more recalibrating i do, the stronger my nausea. i write from the prisons of my sickness as we speak. ergo i am, subjectively speaking, a buffoon.

while i do write out of pain and suffering, i cannot help but to celebrate my ingenuities. i have become misaligned in the realities i participate in, but perhaps that is a sign of my perfection. though plagued with the physical pain of nausea, what does it matter when i can be a part of my cybernetic mirage? an ideal world that surrounds me, a world that praises me for my talents to consume all media.  i am the cybernetic god. destined for pleasure, in return, my pain.

[gureishi]

I'm the same anon who asked!

Could you talk about Saeran? It doesn't need to be detailed or NSFW, I'm good with anything, I just want to know more about your headcanons!

Hello again lovely anon! ♡

Oops aaaand once again (no surprise, I know): it’s long. I just wanna preface this one with a couple things:

1. There are quite a few Certified Saeran Simps on this site who truly know him much better than I do. Take whatever I say with a grain of salt—I’m no expert!

2. I’m also not an expert on DID! Which isn’t the focus of these HCs, but is obviously relevant. I read lots of books! About brains n stuff! But please never hesitate to tell me if I describe something poorly.

3. I wrote for the AS timeline here but if you want me to talk about SE Saeran or Unknown tell me and you know I will <3

Tw: discussion of childhood abuse, neglect, and subsequent trauma symptoms

Saeran’s body headcanons

A child who grows up the way Saeran did—kept indoors, often physically restrained, and sometimes starved—is not going to develop in a healthy way. There’s a reason why, even as an adult, Saeran is a full 2 cm shorter than his identical twin: he never gets the nutrition and exercise that kids need in order to grow.

We know that his mother uses his sickliness as an excuse to keep him indoors: but was he born sickly, or is he sick and weak because he’s been malnourished and kept from running or playing or interacting with other children? He breathes stale, dry air all day; he’s living on mostly white bread, and not always at regular intervals (plus whatever sweets his brother can steal for him from the outside world). He is not well.

Child Saeran never learns any sports or games. He doesn’t learn how to play with other children, or tie his shoes, or make himself a snack. Adult Saeran doesn’t know how to skip—you’ll have to teach him.

If the twins didn’t have each other, neither one of them would have survived.

And as we know, the neglect that Saeran endures worsens tenfold after Saeyoung leaves. Any glimpses he was getting of the outside world—sneaking out when their mother was unconscious, getting whatever snacks and books Saeyoung could gather for him at church—are cut off.

I’m not gonna tell you when the alters appear, because I am by no means an expert on DID. From studies I’ve read, I can say that typically alters become manifest after a “traumatic turning point” (which is not necessarily the “worst” trauma endured, but simply a particularly salient traumatic experience). It’s definitely possible that the alters emerge in late childhood, while he is still in the house with his mother.

When Saeran is taken from his mother’s home by Rika and V, he is (needless to say) not in good shape. He is painfully skinny, extremely malnourished, and very weak. He still has his red hair and golden eyes, but already he is looking less and less like his brother: his cheeks are hollow and his eyes are dull. 

There is a brief period of time, before his “cleansing” (Oh god. We’ll get there), where he is reasonably well cared for. For the first time in his life, he is eating meals—and he is getting to bathe regularly, and he is getting his hair cut and combed. He still believes, at this time, that he’ll be reunited with his brother. And he is going outside! He is learning how the grass feels between his toes and how the sky looks through clear eyes.

As we know: this doesn’t last.

The elixir is a truly horrifying combination of hallucinogenic substances. No human could consume this cocktail of drugs repeatedly and feel well: and Saeran is already physically weak, and severely underweight. The fact that he survives as long as he does under these conditions is a miracle.

We know that he is being tortured at this time, too: physically as well as emotionally. Saeran has scars, like his brother; while Saeyoung has lots and lots of tiny scars all over his body, Saeran has larger, more distinct scars: perhaps on his wrists, and his throat, and his ankles.

It is around this time that his eyes and hair change. The means by which this happens is incredibly vague in-game, and everyone’s individual HCs are valid. My personal belief is this: he dyes his own hair—first, in a frenzied, desperate attempt to stop seeing his brother looking back at him from the mirror. He keeps dying it because Rika approves: and he never does a good job, and it’s rough and fried, and that “pink” at the bottom? Just the red showing through his patchy dye job.

As for his eyes: I personally believe they change as a result of the elixir. If they were contacts, I don’t think that GE Saeran would necessarily still wear them—and in every timeline, he has those startling blue-green eyes.

The alters take care of the body in different ways.

Ray does not feed himself. He lives on caffeine pills and sweets (and, of course, the concoction of drugs that he’s being fed in increasingly large amounts). The body becomes even skinner when Ray is fronting. And he bites his nails and fingers—brutally, so they are chapped and cut and scarred. But Ray goes outside, and he works in the garden under the sun: his body is getting some form of exercise: and this is good for his lungs, and invigorates his weak, tired muscles.

Ray also takes care of his appearance—something Saeran never did before. He brushes and styles his hair; he dresses himself carefully in the clothes Rika has picked for him; he covers himself in beautiful scents so that he is more appealing to you.

When Suit is fronting, he wants to strip his body of anything that reminds him of Ray. So he styles his hair differently (but still: he is styling it), and he tries desperately to wash the scent of Ray off his skin. He doesn’t feed himself, either—but, if any of the alters are trying to become physically strong, it is Suit (of course). I’m certain that the Believers have a workout regime they’re supposed to be following; maybe Suit even does it (on his own, of course, in secret). He knows he needs to be able to protect himself—and he needs to feel powerful.

When you meet Ray, you don’t notice right away just how poorly he is doing. Rika has intentionally dressed him in a way that hides just how bony he is—and he wears those little gloves, of course, so you don’t see his ravaged fingers. But it doesn’t take long to catch on: he is so skinny you could almost blow him away, and there are dark shadows under his eyes, and he doesn’t sound like he’s taken a deep breath in years.

By the time you meet Suit, you already know the state their body is in: malnourished and weak. Ray cooked for you, but you wish you could cook for all of them; and even when Suit is starving you (in other words: reenacting the very abuse that was dealt to him in childhood), you wish you could wrap him in a big blanket and feed him a bowl of soup.

The Saeran that escapes Magenta with you—GE Saeran: the fusion of Ray and Suit (or a new alter, depending on what you believe)—has never made a single choice for himself in his whole life, until this moment. He never got to pick his own clothes, or what he would eat (if he ate at all), or how he would speak, or what he would do. Running away with you is the first real choice he has ever made—and no wonder this is pivotal and transformative for him.

The AE doesn’t portray the timeline of healing in a realistic way. After two weeks, we see GE Saeran so much healthier, both physically and mentally. And yes: two weeks of eating real food and sleeping in a bed make a difference: we see him with fuller cheeks and brighter eyes.

But what the game doesn’t address is the withdrawal he likely endures when he stops taking the elixir, which is full of substances that are both dangerous and addictive. It doesn’t address the time it takes to build up muscle mass, and get accustomed to healthy sleeping and eating habits, and to begin to heal from years and years of repeated trauma.

GE Saeran doesn’t heal right away, because healing doesn’t work that way. It’s not linear, or straightforward, or simple, or beautiful. It’s slow, and sometimes it’s painful.

But he does heal.

A Saeran who is in love with you is soft, and patient, and willing to put in the months and years (a lifetime!) of hard work to heal his body and his heart. You’ll get to watch as the dark circles under his eyes disappear, and his cheeks become less hollow, and his body grows stronger as he cooks (with you, and for you) and eats real meals and learns to run in the grass the way he never did before. He’ll make a garden, and you’ll get to see how he looks with sun on his face, his eyes clear as the sky as he gazes up at you—smiling.

You can show him how to moisturize his dry lips and cracked hands; you can help him pick out clothes he likes to wear; and you will learn how to support him when his memories haunt him.

And you can hold him: this beautiful, small, soft man, with his thin shoulders and scarred fingers. He’ll close his eyes and you’ll taste the sun on his skin as you kiss his eyelashes. He smells of earth and sky; he loves you with all the power of the universe.

#mystic messenger #saeran choi #ray #suit saeran #headcanons #asks #anon #body headcanons

[datleggy]

Totally random thought I had right as I am going to bed but ya know that show "I didn't know I was pregnant"? Buck would be on that show lol the boy is oblivious when it comes to his own body, so like I can perfectly picture him collapsing on the job one day wracked with pain, and then Hen is poking around his stomach where it hurts, her, Buck and Eddie packed into the back of the ambulance as Chim and Bobby drive to the hospital, and she gets out the stethoscope to try and listen for internal bleeding or anything but instead finds an infant heartrate and she's like "Buck, you're pregnant?" And he's like "uh, no? What the hell?" And then his water breaks and he tries to convince hen and Eddie that he had an accident bc even that would be a better alternative to suddenly figuring out he's about to have a baby???? What the fuck???? But Eddie holds his hand all the way through it and by the time they get to the hospital, Buck has a healthy newborn cradled against his chest, Eddie knelt beside him and alternating between kissing buck and the baby on the head, and observing the baby in disbelief. I can also picture Buck like, sobbing his sorry's to Eddie the entire time he's pushing, like "Eddie I swear I had no idea, if I had known, I would have told you!" And Eddie is just reassuring him the entire time like "don't worry about that now, Buck, just concentrate. No one is mad, okay? But you gotta focus on the- on the baby" and buck just sobs and nods and focuses on the delivery again. But for a good while Buck is in denial that any of this is happening and it takes a lot of convincing and encouragement from both hen and Eddie for him to start actively participating in his baby's birth. Anyways, random half asleep thought is finished sorry for the long ask hdshsjjsjdbsjsj

WELL SHIT ok so i actually love that show and i could see buck doing this lmao so i wrote a thing. also ignore all medical inaccuracies, this is my distraction from monday lmao let me have this wildly inept fic pls. 

also just in case, it’s pretty brief, i think, but TW for talk of weight and weight gain

It's nearing the end of their shift now and Buck can almost hear his feet howling at him in pain. Today hadn't even really been all that busy, he thinks, annoyed at his own body's betrayal. He's not even thirty yet, but in the last couple of months he's felt as though he's aged about ten years.

He's put on a few pounds, which isn't too uncommon, sometimes Buck goes through stretches of time where he eats more carbs than he needs and works out less than he'd like and so a little tummy fat is to be expected.

It normally doesn't bother him, except that in the last maybe three months he hasn't felt like exercising much outside of work but he's eaten nearly everything in sight every night. He's up about fifteen pounds, which he wouldn't have even noticed, seeing that he does fluctuate at times anywhere between five to eight pounds over or under what he usually weighs, if it hadn't been for Chimney teasing him about putting down his third Krispy Kreme donut of the day and picking up a barbell earlier this morning.

Chim and Buck poke fun at each other all the time--it's a staple in their friendship and brother ship, in fact--and Buck had flipped him the bird, nothing new there. What had been new was the fact that he'd excused himself to the bathroom right after that and locked himself in a stall and bawled his eyes out as quietly as humanly possible.

Buck grimaces, embarrassed still, by the outburst, even if no one had been there to witness it. He still has no idea what the hell that had been about this morning.

Eddie notices the sour mood and pulls him in close. "Hey, you ok?"

Buck nods. "Yeah, just tired. Ready to go home--shit." Buck feels a shooting pain so intense his knees buckle and Eddie has to hold him upright to keep him from hitting the floor. 

“Woah!” Eddie calls Bobby over, who’s closest, for help, “Buck? Buck, you with me? What’s wrong? What hurts?” 

Buck just shakes his head and grits his teeth, the pain so debilitating he can hardly breathe much less speak. 

The Captain is on his other side in an instant and together Eddie and Bobby help Buck towards the couch, where he collapses in a heap, throwing his head back and letting out an agonized whine. “What’s going on? Did he get hurt during one of the calls?” Bobby asks Eddie, frantic to help put a stop to this. 

Eddie’s helpless, “Bobby I don’t know, one second we were talking about going home and the next he practically fell to the floor in pain.” he turns to face his husband, “Baby, I’m here, look at me, what’s the matter? What hurts?” 

Buck’s face scrunches up and he finally exhales sharply, his grip on the couch cushions loosening, and he opens his eyes, wide like saucers, and says, “What the fuck was that?” 

At this point Hen and Chim, as well as half the crew, have gathered around and Hen is quick to put on her doctors hat and try to sus out the problem. She makes Bobby step aside and Chimney hands her a stethoscope. “Buck, is it your stomach?” she asks, noticing the stiff way he’s holding himself around his midriff. 

“I don’t--kinda? I don’t know. It was just like, this crazy wave of pain, almost like a cramp, but way worse.” he struggles to describe the feeling now that it’s more or less passed for the time being.  

Hen had seen Buck wince when he’d been in the harness on the last call of the day, but he hadn’t said anything and she hadn’t thought too much about it until now. “Did you hurt yourself in the harness earlier? Maybe pulled something when we reeled you back up?” she asks, palpitating his stomach with her fingers, watching him almost retract from her touch. 

“Maybe?” Buck shrugs uncomfortably, wincing when she hits a particularly sore spot. 

Something about this feels familiar and strangely obvious, but Hen doesn’t understand why until she puts her stethoscope up to his belly to check for lack of bowel sounds, indicating maybe some internal bleeding or sorts. 

Hen gasps out loud and sits up like she’s been smacked. 

Eddie frowns. “What? What’s wrong? Is he gonna be ok?” He almost wants to snatch the damn stethoscope out of her ears and check for himself, his eyes darting between Hen and Buck nervously. 

“Buck, you’re pregnant. And in labor, by the sounds of it.” Hen blurts out in disbelief. 

“What.” Buck blinks at her, waiting for the other shoe to drop. This has to be a joke. 

“I heard a heartbeat in there...” Hen informs them, still awed. “Buck, that was a contraction you just experienced.” 

Eddie gapes at Hen and then at Buck. “You’re pregnant?” 

Buck gapes right back at him. “No!” he denies, shaking his head incredulously. “That’s insane, I can’t be pregn--ah--” Buck leans forward in pain as another contraction begins. “Fuck.” 

“Jesus, yeah, no you’re definitely pregnant,” Chim announces, “Your water just broke all over my favorite couch, bud. I’m getting the ambulance ready asap.” he says, before running to do just that, head reeling. He thinks about Maddie and when she gave birth to their daughter and how scared out of his mind he’d been and he sympathizes for Buck and Eddie, who up until now apparently hadn’t even realizes they were expecting... 

Back at the lounge Buck continues to deny any of this is even happening. He whines into Eddie’s chest, “That’s pee, it has to be, because I’m not pregnant. There’s no way.” he lets out a pitiful whimper as another contraction begins and buries his face against his husband to hide the tears springing up in his eyes. 

“Buck, son, we gotta get you to a hospital right now.” Bobby tries, running a soothing hand over the top of his head. 

But Buck shakes his head no, shuddering out a sob. “M’not going.” 

Eddie, overwhelmed, looks to Hen and Bobby for help. 

“Buck, ambulance is ready to go, we need to move unless you wanna have this kid at the firehouse.” Hen grimaces. “I know you’re in pain and I know you’re confused and hurting, but we need to get you into that ambulance and now.” 

Buck cries out when another contraction hits him and Hen gulps. “Your contractions are getting way too close together, we need to move.” she nods at her Captain and Eddie to help get Buck up and together the three of them manage to get Buck onto a gurney and into the waiting ambulance.

Bobby rides up front with Chimney, leaving Hen and Eddie to work in the back with Buck. 

“Buck, you need to start getting ready to push, this baby’s coming.” Hen warns him, but Buck refuses. 

“I can’t.” he sobs. “I didn’t--” he throws his head back, the pain lighting his nerves on fire. “I swear Eddie, I didn’t know. You gotta believe me.”

Eddie takes Bucks hand into his and brings it up to his lips. “I know baby, I know, you don’t have to worry about that. I promise. Nobody is mad at you, ok? I’m not. But right now you need to focus on pushing, you need to listen to Hen, ok? We’re ok, and you’re gonna be ok, but I need you to push, baby. I love you so much, you know that, right?” 

Buck lets Eddie wipe away his tears, leans into the comforting touch, and nods shakily, exhaling. “O-ok, I’m--I’m ready.” 

.

.

.

**************

.

.

.

The baby is so very tiny in Eddie’s arms. 

Olive Buckley-Diaz is born weighing exactly six pounds and two ounces. 

Christopher, who’s curled up against Bucks side on the hospital bed after a very exhausting day, looks up at his Buck, his little brow still knitted in confusion. “So she was a surprise baby? And that’s how come you guys didn’t tell me about her?” 

Buck tries not to laugh. “Yeah bud, it was a huge surprise to us, too.” 

Eddie nods along, smiling fondly down at the bundle he’s holding. Her blotchy red face is slack in sleep and there’s already tufts of brown hair sticking up funnily on her head under her hat. “I still can’t believe you only gained like fifteen pounds during the whole pregnancy.” Eddie chuckles, “Or that you worked through the nine months, God Buck, when I think of the stunts you pulled during calls in the last few months alone I’m--” he shudders. “Actually I’d rather not think about it.” he sighs, “I’m just happy you’re both healthy at the end of the day.” 

Really, it’s a miracle. The doctor had said as much after the delivery. 

“To be fair I never got any of the other symptoms,” Buck shrugs. “I wasn’t nauseous, my feet never swelled, I don’t remember any weird cravings? And you said it yourself, I didn’t really gain all that much weight.” 

Eddie leans down to kiss Buck’s forehead. “You should be on that show.” he grins. 

Buck tilts his head. 

“You know the one, the one Hen made us watch when work was slow that one time. ‘I didn’t know I was pregnant’.” he teases. 

Buck groans. “I regret all the jokes I made at the time. I totally get those people now. Pregnancy is weird.” 

Christopher rests his head more comfortably against Bucks chest and smiles softly. “Yeah, but now our family’s even bigger.” 

.

#mpreg #911 fox #i didn't know i was pregnant #i love that show #lol #ask #ficlet #writing #buddie #established relationship #buck #eddie #christopher #family

[ezrasarm]

Pedro Boys + Pets

Warnings: None

A/N: That’s right! More collaborative HCs between @chaotic-noceur, @din-damn-djarin and myself because apparently, we have many ideas and very little self-control. Enjoy!

Din Djarin

Accidentally grazed a loth cat with a blaster shot

Now Yodito is desperately trying to heal it

Yodito won’t let him leave until he adopts the damn thing

So now he is an accidental parent to two defenceless(ish) creatures

He refers to it as a ‘nuisance’ because that’s what it is to him

Eventually, this dumbass loth cat starts answering to ‘nuisance’, as its name

“This… is not what I intended… at all”

It also answers to Yodito’s very specific shriek

He found Yodito asleep on ‘nuisance’ once

No, his heart did not melt right then and there

After particularly difficult hunts, he cuddles up with Nuisance on his lap in the captain’s seat, scratching the sweet spot behind its ear

He refuses to admit that it soothes him

You see right through him

You know he would kill for that ball of fluff 

He comes back from a rough hunt to find Nuisance and Yodito both curled up in your lap once

That was the first time he’d felt at home in a long time

Home. With you. And yodito. And this stupid loth cat

Ezra

We don’t know how we don’t know when but somehow he has a mangy old arthritic cat that has seemed ancient since the day it was born.

Its name is Trash- originally short for Patricia but that name has long since been forgotten.

The cat’s almost as much of a grump as he is 

But he turns into such a giant softy around it no matter how many times it has literally bitten the hand that feeds it.

He has long rambling one-sided conversations with it when he’s alone and it has this raspy squawk-like meow that it responds to him with.

“You’re not one who’s much for words, are you? I can appreciate that.”

...

“Who was it that said ‘Blessed is the man who, having nothing to say, abstains from giving us wordy evidence of the fact’?”

...

“You don’t have a clue what I’m talking about do you?”

…

“Come here, you idiot.” *picks up cat*

He swears it’s psychic

When he’s having a bad day it curls up next to him and purrs like a motor until all of his problems go away

She’s a total one person cat though

Does not tolerate shit from anyone but Ezra 

Occasionally though, every once in awhile, she might just grace you with a gentle nudge of her head before she hunkers down in your lap and drifts off to sleep

Recently she’s taken to curling up on your face when you’ve fallen asleep cuddling Ezra

Ezra says it's cute but you swear she’s trying to suffocate you

Frankie Morales

A total dog person if you’ve ever seen one. 

Small dogs give him the heebie-jeebies 

“If it can fit in your purse that’s not a dog! It’s some kind of mutant cat.”

Grew up in the countryside where having a dog was practically a prerequisite 

Can’t get used to not having a dog running around the house

Accidentally adopts an old mutt because he can’t resist it 

Surprises the hell out of you when you get home from work

You can’t tell if you’re more convinced to keep it by its puppy dog eyes or his

A/N: We got halfway through HC-ing this before we realized you could just read the actual fic that kicked all of this off instead 😂

Javier Peña

Thinks a house cactus counts as a pet

“I feed it. I water it. I take care of it. It meets all the criteria for a pet”

“You didn’t even name it!”

*glances over at bookshelf* “Federico Garcia Lorca. There I named it.”

“...it looks like a Stanley”

*glaring* “I am not calling him that.”

You don’t even trust him so much as to “take care of it” as he says he does.

“You watered it once. A month ago.”

“It’s a cactus! What do you want me to do? Drown him?!”

“Javi, you cannot water a plant with WHISKEY”

God help you two if you ever have a child

His new method of watering is now to leave the ice cube left from his drink in the pot to melt whenever he remembers 

You can’t decide if you’re impressed by this stroke of genius or disappointed that you didn’t come up with it first

One time you even got home to find him reading over a particularly gruelling case file with the small house plant. 

“Were you just talking to Stanley?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I was talking to Federico Gar- no one.”

A/N: Naturally, us being us- more specifically, @chaotic-noceur being @chaotic-noceur, Stanley sparked his own drabble which you can read here

Marcus Pike

Says he’s a dog person but is actually a cat person.

Doesn’t plan on getting a pet

But these stray cats keep showing up at his door

He made the fatal error of feeding them once and now they won’t leave him alone

They sleep outside on the doormat

But when it rains or gets cold out he ends up feeling sorry for them and lets them come inside

Now he’s accidentally adopted 5 cats

Each of them named after famous artists

Finds a chicken literally trying to cross the road one day on his way home from work

Swore it was going to get hit by a car so he brought it home too

Its name is now Picasso

The cats love their new sibling already 

...That or they want to eat it. He can’t quite tell yet.

Michelangelo seems to have taken on the ‘mother hen’ role though so he’s not overly concerned

“You can’t keep that here!”

“Why not? People keep chickens all the time!”

“Marcus, this is getting out of hand!”

You wind up taking it to your uncle’s farm where you promise Marcus he can visit it whenever he wants.

You guys (and the 5 cats) take a road trip every other weekend now

Oberyn Martell

Got himself a red snake

Takes it everywhere with him

It's not uncommon to see him sitting in a meeting with this snake casually draped over his shoulders

It doesn't seem to mind at all

Let's his youngest name the snake and now all his daughters want to name the pets they don't have

He finally caves when they start naming furniture

They all get their own pets and the castle is starting to resemble an animal sanctuary

His second youngest wanted a tarantula so that's what she got

Oberyn doesn't mind, he finds the little creature quite fascinating

The castle staff though? Not so much

Agent Whiskey 

Low key high key wants a pet pig

Can’t have one because he lives in an apartment and the landlord said no

Settles for a giant bullmastiff to spite him because nothing in the guidelines says he can’t have a dog

It’s called Dolly Parton or just Dolly for short

The vet insists he needs to find a way to get her to exercise because she’s overweight 

But in truth when he’s off work he’s just as lazy as her so they both wind up sprawled across the couch watching movies all day instead

“You’re here for a good time, not a long time.” He insists

She thinks she’s a lap dog and winds up crushing him every time she sits down

He doesn’t have the heart to get her to move so he just suffocates for a while instead 

Probably ends up with a ranch once he’s retired from Statesmen

And he finally gets that pig

#din djarin x reader #frankie morales x reader #javier peña x reader #oberyn martell x reader #agent whiskey x reader #ezra x reader #marcus pike x reader #pedro pascal #headcanons #din djarin headcanons #frankie morales headcanons #javier pena headcanons #oberyn martell headcanons #agent whiskey headcanons #ezra headcanon #marcus pike headcanon #pedro pascal headcanon

[positively--speculative]

Another Loki Fandom Rant

Yeah, so if you're tired of my Loki rants, you can ignore this post. I just can't help it. Every single time I think I'm ready to move on from this. Every single time I think I'm ready to move on to my regular media and fandom criticism, someone in the Loki fandom has to pull me back in with their bullshit or one of my mutuals has to deal with their shit.

Loki fandom,

I don't know what it is with you all (both white fans and white-aligned fans of color). I don't know if there was a lack of critical thinking exercises presented to you growing up, I don't know if Tumblr and YouTube is the only exposure you've had to critical analyses of fiction, I don't know if it's because you don't consume any media outside of the MCU movies involving Loki, I don't know if it's a desire to feel smarter than you otherwise would feel. I honestly don't know. But for some reason, for the past several years, you have been trying to equate Loki's struggles to that of people of color, often at the expense of characters of color, and I'm beyond fed up.

"...but Loki isn't white, he's blue!"

Never, at any point, has any character made reference to him being blue, and he's literally only blue for, like, a few minutes--if that--in the first movie. Loki presents as white. And no, this is not symbolic of "white-passing." If either Loki or Laufey are coded as anything, it's white, as there is nothing in either of their character designs that reference any culture of color.

Also, this is not how racialization works? There are several white people with natural brown tans, but we wouldn't identify them as anything but white, because that's what they are.

"...but...colonization! You can connect his backstory to the evils of colonization!"

I don't disagree with this, but colonization is not exclusive to people of color. The Irish and the Sami of Norway are two cultures that have fallen victim to colonization. And I'll always find it strange how this fandom hasn't latched onto learning more about the Sami given that they are of Norway where the pagan god Loki was born and who Marvel/MCU!Loki was inspired by.

"...but...the similarities to how indigenous people are treated!"

Again, you are using words without fully understanding their meaning. The word "indigenous" is not exclusive to people of color (see again: The Sami people of Norway).

Loki white-aligned fans of color: "Well, I personally related Loki's treatment to my experience as a person of color, so yeah."

And as a little biracial girl, I identified closely with the Disney princess Belle, because she was seen as the weird girl who liked to read. I often felt like an outsider growing up in a conservative town, and I was that one who sometimes sat alone at lunch reading a book instead of hanging out with my friends. It was nothing against my friends. I just like to be alone when I read, which I understand, probably looks strange to people who didn't like to read as much as I did.

Now, just because I related to Belle doesn't make her POC-coded. It doesn't matter that I am a person of color. That doesn't change the fact that Belle is white.

To give another example, as a kid and a teen, I related to Sarah Williams from Labyrinth because of how deep into fantasy she was and the feeling that no one really understood her the way she believed the characters in her fantasies could. Sarah is still as white as Jennifer Connelly is.

Being a fan of color and relating to a white character is not enough to make said character "POC-coded." That's not how terms work.

Also, it's weird how you all are just okay with your white friends appointing themselves as the authority of which ones of us are worth listening to and which ones are not. You don't find that even the slightest bit demeaning?

***

Lastly, I've already written about how your desire to excuse Loki's behavior due to racial trauma only adds to the stereotype that people of color are more prone to be violent.

And to be fair to you all, you're not the only fandom that does this, but I'm still sick and tired of this behavior which pretty much suggests, 'Of course he committed those horrible things! He was bullied for being a person of color!'

YOU ARE NOT HELPING US BY CONTINUING TO PUSH THE STEREOTYPE THAT IT IS ONLY A MATTER OF TIME BEFORE PEOPLE OF COLOR GET VIOLENT. PLEASE STOP!

#loki #loki fandom fuckery #fandom racism #character coding

[gagmebucky]

Hi, I just really wanted to rant about something and I don’t really want to talk about it with anyone I know irl so…

My dad is just a normal guy in every sense of the word, good and bad. One thing that’s bothered me for a while now is how I recognized he talks to my mom and while it’s not degrading, it’s just entitled and annoying.

Since my brother and I were born, she quit her job to take care of us so he’s been the one primarily earning money. This arrangement hasn’t put our family in any type of financial jeopardy at all, we live in a nice house in a nice area and his job combined with the money he makes from his previous service in the military makes him around 150k a year. One thing I’d like to note is that he works a normal 8 to 5 job. But for a year or so the majority of his company has switched to a12 hours day so they get a three day weekend every week.

Now I know you may be wondering what money has to do with any of this and I promise that I’ll get to that part I’m just really angry and need to get this all off of my chest.

Anyways, my mom started working again 2-3 years ago at his request and now she works AND does all the stereotypical motherly things (cooks dinner, cleans, any other odd jobs that need to be done around the house)

All the while my mom has been doing this, my dad does his 12 hour days (including lunch in those 12 hours) and he’s allowed to take 10 minute breaks and most often times watch tv in the background while he’s working (he’s been working from home since COVID and doesn’t have any plans to go back since his job is mostly on the computer anyways other than a couple in-person meetings a month)

After my dad is done with work, he basically retires for the night and just watches tv while waiting for mom to serve him whatever food or leftovers she’s put on a plate for him.

Now, I get to the current issue.

My mom doesn’t ask for much or even anything from him in terms of helping her. But there are just some things that make me angry when he says them.

In the past couple of weeks for pretty much the 1st consistent time since March, my dad started walking and exercising again which he does outside or in the garage. My father has naturally oily skin, and even if he didn’t, he is exercising so his skin will be sticky and sweaty! RIGHT!?!?!

However when my mom brought it up a couple days ago she didn’t even say what we both were thinking which was YOU STINK AND ARE THEREFORE MAKING THE HOUSE STINK!!!

Instead, she politely asked if he would take a shower since he worked out and specificied that she was telling him this out of love without even mentioning him stinking up the house or more specifically the kitchen that he was in.

Instead of understanding that exercise makes you sweat and sweat makes you smell, he snarkelly shot back, that he had something to tell her out of love too. And although he trailed off with a cocky laugh, the context of the situation and his numerous past suggestions obviously implied that he was talking about my mom’s weight.

I would like to specify that my mother is not obese or unhealthy, in fact she eats considerably less junk food than he does. And even if she was, it did not prompt my dad making that “joke”.

Now fast forward a few minutes, my mom and I left to go grocery shopping for the food she would make for him without him even having to lift a finger. She ranted to me that him needing to take a shower had nothing to do with her weight. From what she was saying I could tell that she wasn’t that angry about what he said about her weight, but more so about him deflecting the conversation from his smellyness to her (which is something he does often so he doesn’t look like the “bad guy”)

Now to today, my father once again “joked” with my mom when asked if he would honestly like to help her blow dry her hair (I say honestly because she wanted his honest opinion on whether he would like to do it or not, and it was something she never really needs help with but she wanted to spend time with him) he said that he needs to consult the “guy’s handbook” to figure out if that was a trick question. (My father is 55 years old and they’ve been married for 30 something years)

I’m sure there’s a psychological reason why I got so angry at him but I’m not going to settle that I was once again tired that he treated my mom like crap despite her doing everything for him. So I told him that my mom was being serious and it wasn’t a trick question.

I (kinda) knew that he knew this, and was trying to make a joke. But explaining it was my version of the whole “I don’t understand your ‘joke’ please explain it to me” in an attempt to discourage him from making it again.

But in an event that I would have seen coming if I wasn’t so angry, it didn’t work and he instead got mad at me. Recognizing that I could have handled the situation better, I just apologized however I was crying because of his rant that I wasn’t a part of the conversation and shouldn’t have stepped in . (I normally wouldn’t be so sensitive but for some reason it’s like everytime I have a family argument it’s that time of the month so I’m emotionally sensitive)

I retreated back into my room and apparently I wasn’t crying as quietly as I thought I was because be he then knocked on my door, then demanded that I come out and “spend time with him” so he could know what was wrong.

Now, I thought this was code for I’m going to apologize, but no… he literally didn’t understand that his words hurt my feelings and demanded that I tell him what was “really” wrong as if him yelling at me wasn’t a good enough reason to be crying.

After curtly telling him what was wrong in so many words as to not offend him further. He dryly apologized before defending himself and saying that it wasn’t his fault that I got angry and he was just trying to make a joke that he insisted would apparently be funny if I didn’t cut in. Then he dryly promised that he would try to treat my mother nicer and not make as many “jokes” because he can tell how much it affects me.

There is probably more to the story that I forgot to leave out. And I kinda want to know if I’m in the wrong in the situation or not. And reading back over this i am definitely biased but if you can manage to remove the emotion from my words then those are honestly the facts about what happened.

I recognize that I am selfish, he actually told me that one, but looking back over my life I know that I have been rude when “defending” my mom. I put it in quotations because my mom doesn’t need defending and she is more than capable to speaking up when there’s a big problem.

But I just get annoyed at people when they rudely deny her some of the smaller things she requests like help blow drying her hair and things she won’t insist on them helping on. I’d understand if kindly said no thanks or I can’t do it right now, but he just had to joke about it and be curt in his response for no reason.

All in all I’m just so angry that it is impossible for him to acknowledge what he did wrong without defending that actions that make someone sad or angry in the first place.

But anyways, I am extremely sorry for the rant and writing so much and I honestly don’t blame you if you didn’t even read all of this. I just wanted to tell someone and I love how your blog is so open and judgement free and you don’t act like you have all the answers of what is right or wrong but you just give your opinion and help when you can. Thanks so much for listening (reading, really) and I appreciate you so much!

baby, you didn’t do ANYTHING wrong. you are the opposite of selfish — your dad was being a fucking dick to your mom and you stood up for her. you had every right to be angry, and if i were you, i would’ve said some low blow, disrespectful, kick-me-out-of-the-house ass shit.

i think (respectfully) you’re over analyzing yourself to find fault in yourself when it isn’t really there in my opinion. he’s complaining that you’re rude when he was the rude one and you literally just defending your mom. being rude is like “you stinky piece of shit, im gonna fucking drown you in bleach and lets see you make another fuckin comment BITCH”

but you did not do that therefore his argument is invalid. i can only say so much because it’s you in the thick of it but it definitely seems like your dad’s arrogant and entitled personality is so overbearing that it makes you be harder on yourself than you should be. i think, legally, you should get hit him once with a bat, non lethally of course (unless….. haha…?). i just know personally dealing with that personality type can create a LOT of contained anger.

anyway, im rly sorry you have to deal w him. i feel like you have a lot of weight on your shoulders and you seem so sweet and nice and you do not deserve to have to give your energy to that :(

#i would’ve said some vile things i wouldve said things that would make him disown me #i would poured a little rat posion in his drink just enough to make him sick not to like kill yknow #if it isn’t clear I… I have a lot of violent feelings and am a little… insane #ILU AND IM SORRY U HAD TO DEAL W THAT #q answers

[5-falsehoods-phonated]

(Prompts with boxes have been taken, highlighted have been written)

Requests for this card are closed, thank you to anyone who sent in requests! If you don’t want to see these you can block the tag #false bthb. As always shoot me an ask if you wanna be tagged in future stories, whether it be for bad things happen bingo or any of the other series, one shots or in general!

I’ve been picking at this particular request since early December as the person who requested it had a lot of details they wanted put in making the writing process a bit more challenging. As a disclaimer, note that the chapter is split between present time and the past; with Logan recalling things in his past in an attempt to make the details requested for the story flow better. I received this request from AO3.

General taglist: @im-an-anxious-wreck

Experimental Socialization

Summary: Logan was raised by the government to be nothing more than an experiment and a weapon, utilizing his unique abilities as a mutant. When he finally escapes things are much different than he imagined they’d be but thankfully finds others like him willing to help guide him right where he needs to be.(Happy Ending)

Warnings: allusions to abuse, physical punishment and human experimentation, tw for weapons and fire, panic attack. If there are more please let me know

Prompt; Not Used To Freedom (requested by AngstyEmoGal on AO3)

Ships: Intrulogical, Logan x Remus

WC: 3432

“You just gotta breathe, Logan. In four, hold seven, out eight remember? You’re doing great, just keep going.”

Logan felt himself slowly coming back to reality as his breathing evening out, the raw panic that had gripped his chest easing slightly as Virgili continued coaxing him through the exercise. He felt the other slowly rub up and down his arm in a slow, steady beat that helped ground him further in reality and he smiled up at his friend gratefully and nodded to let xem know he was okay. Gripping his knees as Virgil’s voice trailed off he squeezed his eyes shut tightly and let out one last calming breath.

“Thank you, Virgil. I-” He struggled to find words, gesturing flippantly in the air making Virgil grin.

“It’s okay. Take your time, L.”

Logan puffed his cheeks out in frustration, thoughts swirling too quickly for him to comprehend anything but the apprehensive fear he held for the plans Remus had made for them later that evening. “I am- not used to being outside. Given my history and the threat I pose as a potential compromise to our place of hiding I fail to understand Remus’ reasoning for going out when we could just as easily celebrate our relationship here.”

“Hm.” Virgil leaned back on xyr hands and looked up at the low ceiling of their underground paradise. “Can’t really see the stars from here, no matter how many stickers Princey finds and puts up it can't really be compared to the real thing.”

Logan had made the mistake of going on a tirade of space facts a few months into his stay in the hideout, Remus patiently listening to the extensive infodump of constellation facts and space physics and planetary rotation. Having a limited amount of books to entertain oneself with for extended periods of time meant memorizing entire books on one subject, which Logan had used all too happily as a figurative escape from his situation in the past until he had actually managed to escape when he was 16. Hearing Logan speak so passionately about the subject had apparently made his mind up that he was taking Logan outside for their first “official” date to view the stars, which had then landed Logan in his current state of panic as he realized that date was today and he was decidedly not ready for what might lay in store outside of safety of the hideout.

“I can stay close by if you want. I won’t spy or anything and Remus won’t have to know.” Logan looked over as his thoughts were interrupted by the offer, Virgil turning invisible and reappearing a couple seconds later to emphasize xyr point. Smiling Logan shook his head, knowing the other derived as much joy from going outside as Logan felt about going himself.

“Thank you for the offer though, you’re very kind.” Letting his thoughts drift again he idly wondered when Virgil had discovered xe could disappear and reappear at will and if xyr parents had tried to hide it before the government had found out. His own parents-

-----

“Logan?” A very small Logan turned at his mother’s voice, losing his concentration which made the hidden jar of Crofters fall from its suspended place in the air and smash to the floor. His parents hadn’t known he possessed any sort of powers, and even as small as he was he still understood the position he’d put them in if they ever found out. Fearfully his hands dropped to his sides as his mother covered her mouth in shock, tears rolling down her cheeks as she took a step back.

Men in suits and long coats were there just a few hours later, speaking in hushed voices while both of his parents cried and he was ushered out the door and into an unmarked car, quiet as he understood yelling and crying would do him no good now. What’s done was done, all he could do was be compliant and hope to be treated gently.

-----

The room suddenly brightening with a flickering light brought him back out of his thoughts, Roman entering with his signature bright flame held proudly in his hand. The image of him in his rather scrapped together Princely outfit posing subconsciously in the doorway was almost enough to make Logan roll his eyes but he didn’t want Virgil to think it was because of xem so he managed to restrain himself.

“My dearest brother has been pacing in the same spot for two hours now and I haven't been able to calm him down soooo I thought to check on our resident nerd.” Roman declared with his usual flare. Logan actually did roll his eyes this time but Virgil did as well so he figured it was fine.

“The ‘resident nerd’ is doing fine, Roman. Though it's concerning to hear Remus is nervous as well considering he’s the one who suggested the date.”

Roman waved his hand at Logan dismissively. “He’s just a sap- moreso than me surprisingly. He doesn’t want to do anything to put you in danger but he wants to do something nice, so he’s worried that’s all. Remus is an idiot but I trust him with my life; believe me when I say you have nothing to worry about except his terrible sense of humor.”

Logan merely hummed in response, staring at the way the flame moved around as Roman gestured with his words.

-----

He panted as he rolled out of the way of another flamethrower, singeing the tips of his hair in the process but he couldn’t afford to slow down enough to worry about that. Years of training with different fighting styles had earned him incredibly fast reflexes but a good portion of his accuracy in knowing where to step and when was owed to him working even harder to focus his powers. Thoughts from others constantly surrounded him on a regular basis, getting more and more prevalent the older he grew. Learning to block out the constant string of stimuli was a useful skill to keep him sane but learning to hone in on specific thoughts to predict actions was what had kept him alive.

He ducked below another bullet and brought up his leg in the same motion, kicking a throwing knife to the side and sending it to clatter harmlessly between one of his assailants feet. A twirl to the side and a tilt of the head let another bought of flame boil the air beside him while another knife just barely brushed his ear. The constant bang of bullets and roar of flames and whistling of knives was overwhelming and made the air so thick he could barely draw a breath and it was becoming a struggle to concentrate the way he needed to and-

A high pitched alarm sounded one, twice, three times- a blaring flash accompanying it that left him blinking painfully. His shoulders slumped as the barrage finally ended, another successful training day completed. He watched as everyone began putting their weapons away, laughing and congratulating each other, clapping themselves on the back and discussing whatever they had planned after this. No one even spared the thing they had been firing at seconds before a spare glance, save for the director of the branch, who took long steps forward to stand in front of him only to snap his fingers and motion forward no doubt to see him back to his room until dinner. Absorbing the sounds around him he drank in as much praise as he could that wasn’t his and would never be for him; people rarely congratulated weapons after all.

-----

“Is this where we all decided to hide today?” Logan looked up to see Patton sitting cross legged on one one of the beams in the ceiling, grinning happily down at them even as their fluffy ears twitched nervously and even fluffier tail whipped back and forth in agitation. They must have come back from trying to calm Remus as well, Logan mused; Patton had never done well being in the same room as Remus who tended to voice his thoughts abruptly and without much care to how they might sound to others which always managed to set Patton on edge no matter how hard they tried not to show it.

Patton was a rare mutant in that as opposed to being born with abnormal traits or abilities they had been a science experiment from the start- an effort to create super soldiers rather than stealing them away from families and training them. Even rarer was the fact that the DNA splicing had taken extraordinarily well by pure chance as Patton was born with a mutation that left their DNA incredibly malleable- a mutation that never would have been discovered had cellular manipulation not been the reason for them being in the experimental branch that they were. They had tried cloning Patton at first to see if their power could be duplicated but when that failed to work they began trying to combine them with different animals to see if desirable traits would come forward. By manipulating them on a physical and anatomical level they were able to change some parts of them to be more cat like, intending, Patton had guessed, to turn them into a kind of stealth soldier but they got away before they completed it, leaving them with heightened agility and surgically coaxed cat ears and a tail. They were only a child when the lab had done this but somehow they were never bitter, simply preferring to leave their past alone and embrace whatever future they could make- a trait Logan greatly admired them for even if their unending optimism could be somewhat grating at times.

“Did Janus brush your tail out Pat? It looks fluffier today.” Patton preened at Virgil's compliment, their tail beginning to wave in a more relaxed manner as their mind was distracted from whatever it was Remus had been ranting about.

“He did! He found a cat brush and got it for me so I could finally get the undercoat out!” Jumping down and landing lightly on their feet they posed a little and flashed another wide grin.

“Beautiful as always, Patton.” Roman said genuinely as he lowered his hand into a barrel to light up the paper scraps and wood in it for the night, the dim sunlight that had filtered through the grated having long since died. The home was a modified branch of a sewer system, thankfully the part most removed from the city where it flowed without the stench and was sealed off inconspicuously enough that in the ten years Janus and Remus had been using it no worker had ever found it.

-----

It had been Janus and Remus who had found him, beaten and bloody from an escape attempt he had made just days before his real one. He had made a weak attempt to coax the scientists into a false sense of security, holding back the full scoop of his powers during training for a year in anticipation for his final escape. He had punished severely but had simply thrown him in his regular cell, assuming he wasn’t strong enough to do any more damage than they had seen him do already and trusting that they had beaten him down enough that it would be a while before he tried again- if he ever did. Not six days later the mangled metal of the front of his cell was tossed into a group of guards, walls torn apart in a straight line to the exit and the huge buzzing gates leading to the outside world thrown open wide and stuck there with varying amounts of heavy debris.

The outside world, as it turns out, was a lot bigger and louder and downright terrifying when you weren’t being sent out as a personal assassin or field missions or training sessions- all controlled on some level to keep him from being killed and compromised. Without the begrudged protection from the labs and moreover having to hide from said lab was another story entirely. The times they searched for him and how closely they came to his spots were random and made it incredibly hard for him to pick out their thoughts from anyone else’s in the city and figure out how close they were. On more than one occasion they passed right by him crouched under piles of garbage or laying low under a hedge, his breath held as he tried desperately to keep himself as still and quiet as possible, thoughts of what they would to him once they found him pounding against his head and making him squeeze his eyes shut to keep his terrified tears from falling.

That was how Remus had found him. It had been dark and hours had passed since the searchers had left that park he had been hiding in. He had still been hiccuping down his sobs as he rolled out from under the hedge that he hadn’t bothered to scope the area for anyone’s close by thoughts, having shut out as much as he could after they had left to try and block out any other hate fueled thoughts that may send him spiraling again. His heart had leapt in his throat so high his breath caught painfully, immediately shifting to offense as he tensed, ready to fight as long and hard as he could. He couldn’t go back- he wouldn’t. No matter what they did or promised him or punished him with; he’d go down fighting or not at all.

But Remus had only raised his hands in the air in a motion of peace, eyes widening as he locked onto the government issued bracelet that marked him as an experimental mutant. He had grinned impossibly wide then Logan remembered, briefly disappearing from his sight and reappearing a moment later, setting him even more on edge but curious nonetheless.

“I’m like you.” Remus had said quietly. “Basically I run real fast and the government hasn’t figured out how to get me yet.”

Logan had watched as he jiggled his wrists a bit for emphasis, bare save for colored chords that he assumed didn’t associate him with any government branch since they didn’t look official.

“Are you okay?” Remus had asked next and mutely Logan nodded, unsure of how to react to this fellow mutant who had never been caught by any sort of lab, apparently living as free as one could when you were as different as they were. He stepped back as another man appeared behind him, Janus he later learned.

“Liar.” Janus had hissed, making Remus reach around and smack the back of his head.

“It was a polite thing to ask that he tried to dismiss Jan. Let the adults speak for a second.”

Logan had noted the faint pout on Janus’ face though he was still trying very hard to look intimidating. And then all at once his eyes had turned cold as his attention was once again focused on Logan, glaring menacingly from beneath a black bowler hat. “I’m younger than you and yet I’m the one that has to put my foot down. He’s being chased clearly; we are not bringing him back with us.”

Remus has turned, Logan seemingly forgotten for the moment. “That’s not how it works! He needs help and we’re not leaving him to starve or be found in the middle of a park! What would Patton say?”

“Patton is a soft fool who needs to figure out where their morals stand. I myself am choosing not to compromise our place of hiding and three other people that you know those power hungry idiots would love nothing more than to get their hands on!”

Remus rolled his eyes so hard his head had lolled with it, face going pale as he watched something in the sky. It was then that Logan heard the telling sound of a helicopter flying low and getting closer but he had barely tensed before he found himself gripped around the middle and held vertically with the ground flying underneath him. They stopped abruptly and he was set down, blinking in rapid confusion as Remus grinned sheepishly at him.

“Welcome to the hideout?”

Logan’s eyes had widened and his breath had caught yet again, chest tightening as he shook his head vehemently. “You can’t- I need to go back! They’ll do anything to get me back-!”

He was stopped from going forward with a finger to his chest, his blue eyes locking with beautiful brown as Remus held his gaze. “And we will do everything to keep you safe.”

Safe. With that one word Logan was his. He hadn’t known why and he still didn’t quite understand it but he had trusted Remus with everything he had- and he still did. Even as Janus had stalked off grumbling and Virgil and Roman had kept their distance at first Remus had kept him close and showed him how much better his life could be, even if they were living in a modified sewer system.

Back in the present he looked up as a hand was thrust under his chin, smiling softly as he took Remus’ hand and let himself be led away from the others’ idle chatter. He counted himself extremely lucky in the end that Janus had eventually come around to him, seeing how happy he made Remus and how Remus made Logan feel it had been him to finally talk to Logan about it and get the two to officially talk about how they felt, going on about the being “hopeless gay idiots” when they had finally started to date officially. Logan wasn’t sure what he’d do without Remus at this point, just a year later and he was so attached to their small group of hideaways he wouldn’t trade for the world.

They approached the exit to the sewers, Remus swinging their hands between them. Logan held his breath right before they crossed the threshold, closing his eyes and letting it out slowly as his feet met grass and he opened his eyes to the darkened field. There were a few tunnels that lead out to different places depending on where they needed to go and this, Remus had told him, was his favorite because of how empty it was. The city lay far in the distance so there was almost no light pollution to block out the sky. Soft grass and flowers brushed his ankles as he scanned the area carefully, seeing nothing but trees lining the far end of the field with a road so far away he could barely, make it out in the darkness. Remus tugged his hand softly to get his attention, searching his eyes for any hint of discomfort.

“Is this okay?’

Logan took another breath and let it out, the last of his nerves fading away as he took in the quiet. “It’s perfect Remus.”

The other grinned and tugged a little harder this time, walking fast to the middle of the field where he stopped suddenly and raised Logan’s arm up to lead him into an impromptu twirl. Logan laughed quietly and then louder as he was dipped, secure in Remus’ strong hold as he reached up to grip the back of his neck. He was safe. He was free and safe and happy finally with someone who truly loved and cared for him. His breath caught in his throat again but this time in awe, Remus chuckling as he was laid down carefully tucked into his side, till with his arms around his neck.

The stars shone bright and winked lazily while swirls of color dusted faintly behind them. The moon was waning, a barely there light that let the beauty behind it show fully as the wind whisked away any clouds that dared to try and cover it. It was everything Logan had ever hoped it would be and more, excitement thrumming through him as he squeezed Remus tightly in an attempt to convey it. He felt Remus grin against his scalp where his face was buried in his hair.

“It’s beautiful isn't it?”

Logan looked back at him, light from the stars reflected in his eyes and wild brown hair framing his face. He leaned up slightly and kissed him, a faint brush of their lips that left them both grinning like the idiots they were. Placing a hand on Remus’ cheek Logan smiled at him, thumb brushing over his cheek in adoration.

“Absolutely stunning.”

This work and others are also available on AO3!

If you like this, please consider reblogging, as sharing a creator’s work is very encouraging to us and helps our creations reach more people!

#false writes #false bthb #bthb #bad things happen bingo #prompt not used to freedom #bthb not used to freedom #not used to freedom #tw weapon #tw human experiment #tw physical abuse #tw abuse manetion #tw panic attack #tw fire #intrulogical #logan x remus #remus sanders #logan sanders #logan sanders x remus sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #tw violence #tw confinement #sanders sides fic #ao3

[spectrumed]

5. sleep

It hardly gets dark in the Swedish summers. Between dusk to dawn, you’ve got about an hour to fall asleep before the sun rises again. If you struggle to fall asleep that fast, you can invest in some good window blinds. Or you can do as I do and place one big pillow over your face. Then the birds start singing around three o’clock in the morning. You can practically hear the sounds of Edvard Grieg’s Morning Mood playing at around four o’clock in the morning. Around five o’clock in the morning, it is as bright as midday. Did you have a good time sleeping? Or did you pace around in a circle having one hell of a panic attack? I thought you took some of those sleeping pills you got prescribed, they should have helped you fall asleep… wait, you did take them? They didn’t work? Oh, they did work, you just felt your body falling asleep while your mind stayed awake? That sounds terrible, real terrible. Very well. It’s morning now. Want some coffee?

You could form a religion out of sleeping. Let’s have sermons where we fill a whole auditorium full of beds and have our congregates take a big collective nap. Sleep for the sleep god! Pillows for the pillow throne! Sleep is a billion-dollar industry, there’s a plethora of handy products you can buy that promise to send you on a luxury liner to dreamland. Pills, mattresses, dreamcatchers, whatever your snoozy heart desires. You can go to a proper doctor and they might help you, or you can settle for the placebo effect and go to some fraudulent quack, instead. He might make you swallow some pills that contain arsenic, but hey, arsenic is a naturally occurring element. It can’t be all that bad for you if it is natural. And you do want to sleep, don’t you? If you take this pill in your mouth and swallow it with a glass of water, I promise you, you will sleep for a very long time.

The esteemed former president of the United States of America, Donald Trump, claims that he only needs four to five hours of sleep every night. While Mr. Trump is well-known to be a paragon of honesty, I do doubt he’s telling the truth. No, I actually do believe him when says that he only gets about four or five hours of sleep each night, I just don’t believe him when he says that is all he needs. He doesn’t look very well-rested, does he? And Margaret Thatcher, the similarly adored former prime minister of the United Kingdom, claimed that she also only needed about four hours of sleep every night. Yes, while researching the sleeping habits of famous monsters, I’ve come to the conclusion that amongst powerful individuals, not getting enough sleep has become a proper badge of honour. The belief is that if you don’t get enough sleep, that must be because you are living such a vibrantly successful life, and are so career-driven, that you simply haven’t got enough time to sleep for the full eight hours. People who sleep for more than four hours are lazy liberals. Go-getters like Trump has got to be out there, working, making decisions, raping women, and showing daddy what a good boy he is. Sleep is for the weak. But maybe I am weak. I sure like sleeping.

It’s the cultural hangover our society has had since the 80’s. Back when the yuppies wearing jackets with obscenely padded shoulders would happily chuck down eight to ten espressos in one go while A Flock of Seagulls was playing on the radio encouraging everyone to go running. And to be fair to them, with the constant fear of the doomsday clock hitting midnight, they really had no reason to think that they’d survive the decade. The new millennia, it seemed, would have no cities, no nature, no humans, only radiated mutants scouring the rubble that remains of civilization for cans of preserved something edible. Self-destructive behaviour was in. It was fashionable. Doubt people got enough sleep back then, between snorting coke and wondering if the next pandemic that hits the night clubs would start killing as many straight folks as gay folks. Well, here we are in the new 20’s, and we’ve got a pandemic that does appear to kill people regardless of sexual orientation. Sure, the looming threat of nuclear obliteration has been lessened dramatically, but we’ve largely come to exchange that anxiety for the fear of total environmental collapse, instead. No wonder 80’s nostalgia is a big thing right now. History doesn't repeat itself, but It often rhymes, said Mark Twain (supposedly.) I wonder how much coke Mark Twain would snort if he lived in the 80’s.

I notice a palpable difference in my mood and mental state when I’ve been getting good amounts of sleep. Lack of sleep results in lack of clear thinking. Caffeine, though it is something I am chronically addicted to, does not help fix a sleep-deprived mind. There are no tricks of revolutionary “life hacks” one can employ to get out of sleeping. To recover from depression, one has to sleep. Sleep often and sleep well. I cannot understate the importance of being well-rested. You cannot process information if you are tired. I am reminded of my teenage years seeing friends of mine who’d stay up all night, then come into school shuffling like agonised zombies. They got so frustrated when the teachers reprimanded them for snoozing in class. Well, dummies, it is your fault for drinking several dozen cans of Red Bull every day! I know that sleep does not always come easy. I know the terror of insomnia. But, c’mon! At some point, you’ve got to realise that sleep is essential. Maybe most of your problems stem from the fact that you refuse to get enough of it? Here’s where the tough love comes in. If you wanna get better, kiddo, then listen to me. It’s bedtime. Yes, I know you’d rather stay up late playing monopoly with your friends, but I’m confiscating your dice and I’ll only give it back to you when you’ve gotten some good sleep. Okay? You hear me, missy? You listen to your daddy now, and go to bed. No ifs or buts about it, princess, I’ve made myself clear. I know what is best for you, and you know that I am right. I’m your daddy.

But what if I can’t seem to fall asleep? Normally, it takes a long time for me to fall asleep. It is not uncommon for me to stay awake for two hours, maybe more, before I finally begin to sleep. Fearing that I won’t fall asleep gives me anxiety. That anxiety keeps me awake. I turn my body. I try lying on my side. First my left side, then my right side. I then try to lie on my back. I’ve got a song stuck playing in my head. Not even the whole song, just a ten-second segment of it. It’s playing over and over. I’m worried about the future, will I ever find security, will I ever find a wife, will I get to grow old? I worry about death. I keep hearing the music playing, it’s grating. I rearrange the pillows, in hopes that will make me feel more comfortable. But no, I keep tossing and turning like a fish caught on land. I’m getting frustrated. If only I could shut off my brain. I’m constantly thinking. I turn to my side again, but now I notice I’ve moved arounds so much that now the bed has shifted away from its position next to the wall. There’s now a gap between the bed and the wall. I almost fall down that gap. I get up and I push the bed back against the wall. I lay down in bed. The song is still playing.

How am I ever going to become a successful businessman if I am wasting so many hours just trying to get to sleep? This is the time I should be spending on the phone, yelling at people and making inappropriate sexual comments to my female employees. That is what good executives do. I need to get my life in order. I need to exercise more. I should practice mindfulness. I should get a life coach, a personal trainer, a stylist, an accountant, an assistant, a trophy wife, and a mistress. I need people in my life to take care of me. It’s funny how rich people create the sort of environment around them where people will take care of all their needs, effectively infantilising them. These people don’t even get to decide how to dress themselves. They’ve got fancy apartments, but they don’t choose any of the furniture. They’ve got art on the walls that they don’t like, but the art looks expensive, and that is all that matters. They’ve got kids, but they don’t raise them. Their spouses are cheating on them, but in fairness, they are cheating on their spouses. They don’t really even know what their jobs entails, as they’ve gotten promoted so many times that they’ve ended up in a position that is totally outside their realm of expertise. But they’re so powerful that no-one is able to fire them over their pretty blatant incompetence. They’re successful. They’ve made it. But they still can’t sleep at night. They only manage to successfully fall asleep at night after swallowing a fistful of pills along with a swig of vodka.

It must be easy being a self-help guru. Well, what I mean to say is that all you really need is charisma, which is something you need to be born with. But you don’t need to do any actual studying, any real research, or any kind of soul-searching or deliberation. All you need is to state what is obvious. You go on stage in front of an anxious audience, mostly composed of middle-class salesmen and miscellaneous white collar ghosts. You smile, show off your eerily bright teeth, and they clap. You tell them to go take care of themselves, to eat more healthily, to take walks, or go swimming, and love their partners. You tell them to drink less, or maybe, if they feel like it, they could drink more. I am sure you could spin alcohol as a positive or a negative, depending on what crowd you’re talking to. Tell them to appreciate family. Tell them to appreciate others. Live, laugh, but most of all, love. Tell them to go clean their rooms. Tell them to remember that if they’re on an airplane that is about to crash land, they need to put their own oxygen mask on before they can help others put theirs on. If you don’t love yourself, how in the hell you gonna love somebody else? Now, go to bed!

You know all this stuff. Me telling you that you should sleep more doesn’t really help you. You know that you should sleep more. It’s not like as if you’re too dumb to realise that. And it’s not like as if you’re too dumb to realise that it is better to drink in moderation, and that you should smoke less weed. There are many small little things you can do to improve your life, to stop being a terminally unemployed slacker. It’s like your grandpa who tells you stories about life after the war when you could walk into the biggest building in town, slam your fist against the table and demand to be given a job and a house and a wife and a couple of kids, and that was all you needed to do. He can’t comprehend the fact that society doesn’t work like that, any more. Most people my generation have given up hope of ever owning a home, at least if they happen to live in the vicinity of a larger city. It seems that, no matter where you live, the cost of homes has risen to an impenetrable degree. It seems just as likely that you will be able to afford your very own genetically-engineered pet dragon before you will get to be a house-owner. It’s the fault of those damn boomers, why bother changing your ways, when the boomers are still in charge? Others may accuse you of wallowing in your own depression, but you are perfectly aware that this is exactly what you are doing. You are self-aware. But self-awareness on its own is not enough to motivate anyone. You still can’t see the point in doing anything constructive with your life. Life just feels so aimless. It’s easier to sit, smoke weed, and watch cartoons.

Pop psychology is problematic. To say the least. Take all those self-help gurus suffering from their messiah complexes and put them through the shredder. Don’t buy books thinking that they’ll offer you the kind of treatment you would get from an actual psychiatrist. I know that, depending on where you are in the world, treatment can get very expensive, but you’re not going to get better reading the book of some self-aggrandising narcissist’s collection of wishy-washy platitudes. Dr. Phil has done great evil pretending to be a therapist on the TV, and Jordan Peterson (despite having once been an esteemed scholar) has turned a generation of young internet-savvy zoomers into proto-fascists obsessed with the monogamy of lobsters. Pop psychology has become a guise for cult leaders to reap new followers. Getting treatment should not feel like joining a new religious movement. Maybe I’m just one of those annoying atheists, but I dare say, psychiatry works at its best when it's secular. You should not look at your psychiatrist as a prophet speaking to God. They’re just a doctor, and you need treatment.

I do not aspire to create a self-help blog. I do not promise that reading this blog will help you in any way. I would be overjoyed if someone came up to me and told me that I had inspired them to seek help. You may tell me that reading my words have made you feel less alone, knowing that others have gone through all these things that you are going through. When I felt at my worst, I remember reading the memoirs of people I admired who had similarly struggled in their lives, and I felt less alone. But none of those books pretended to exist principally to help others. Those books did help me, through the candid descriptions of struggles that I thought I was alone in experiencing. Knowing that some people had pulled through, managed to find a light at the end of the tunnel, it made me think I could one day be like them. The books didn’t seek to fix me, but they offered me a perspective that came to be very valuable later on, when I started going to therapy, and when I later started taking medication. Sometimes that is all you need. Not someone standing over you and telling you to go to bed, or to clean your room, or to stop drinking. You know all that, already. What you really need is the reassurance that things can indeed get better. Sleep will come.

#neurodiversity #neurodivergent #autism spectrum disorder #autism #aspergers #mental health

[somedayonbroadway]

Dark Magic

So like, I was reading my baby Race AUs again and watching Harry Potter and I know I have like 170 some asks (which i love and am so excited to write) but like... I couldn’t help myself.

For short background, Jack is Race’s dad. He’s the youngest Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher Hogwarts had ever had and was a prodigy growing up. He knocked up a girl at fifteen and was a dad at sixteen.

This scene takes place later in the story. I was watching movie number seven at the time but I just started over for my little siblings who are loving it!

Let me know what you guys think!

TW: Kidnapping, Magical Torture

Tyler could do nothing but watch the scene in front of him, terrified to make a sound. If they heard him, it was over. They’d kill him on the spot. He couldn’t let that happen.

His father was hanging in midair, nothing holding him up but cruel, agonizing dark magic. Race could see the way the man’s muscles were tense in pain as he twitched and gasped for air that would hardly reach his lungs, only barely keeping him alive. The young man’s back was arched. His arms were stiff a few inches away from his sides as he was dangled above the table the Death Eaters all sat casually around, like they were putting him on display. All the boy’s father could do was lay there, his head nearly hanging upside down as the magic of fifteen wizards trapped him and slowly tortured him. Tyler couldn’t help but let his heart sink. His father was in pain and there was nothing he could do to make it stop.

It wasn’t until he swore those panicked green eyes locked in on him that he heard a strangled cry. The boy quickly pressed his back into the post he hid behind as the quiet murmurs ceased. “Wiesel, did I not ask you to keep our guest quiet?!” Tyler squeezed his eyes shut tight, hearing a spell being muttered. The small whimpers that he could only assume were coming from his poor dad were slowly silenced.

“Sorry, my Lord...” someone apologized.

Tyler felt sick.

He peaked his eyes open to glance over at the corner where he saw his friends hiding out, waiting for him. He shook his head, feeling more helpless than he’d ever been in his life.

“Welcome, my children,” a smooth, stone cold voice announced. A chill went down Race’s spine. “I expect you are all curious as to who our guest of honor is this evening...” The boy listened carefully, watching as Spot and Albert both readied their wands. Race slid his own into his hand, not knowing what was to come. “James Francis Kelly, Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at my own Alma Mater, Hogwarts.” The old man sounded impressed and Tyler couldn’t help but sneak another glance. “The youngest person to ever teach such a complicated subject at that school.”

The young man’s mouth hung open wide again as he desperately gasped for air. He’d no doubt been up there for far too long. His face was flushed as he hung. Tyler bit down hard on his lip to keep himself from crying out for the man who’d always protected him.

“Mr. Kelly, here, is a muggle born wizard. He advocates for the right to allow wizards and witches to fraternize and mate with creatures who are below us!” Race’s hand began to shake with his wand. He tried to think of a spell, anything he could do to get his father out of that place. But the dark lord was not done speaking. “He has even gone so far as to exercise this right himself.” Tyler’s breath caught in his throat. He once again hid himself behind that large pillar, praying he wasn’t giving himself away. “Once we find the boy, we will show this young teacher his mistake. I believe Mr. Delancey has had the pleasure of making this half-blood’s acquaintance.”

Cold hard betrayal settled in Race’s chest. He and Oscar had never once had a common thought to share but that didn’t mean anything. Just because they didn’t get along didn’t mean Tyler expected the other boy to be okay with this. His father, Jack Kelly, he was a teacher. He was Oscar’s teacher. He was a good man who only wanted the best for his students.

And this is where it got him.

“Y-yes, sir... I know him...” That was Oscar’s voice. He sounded terrified. Still, he did nothing.

Race looked back down to his friends. Spot was moving towards him, every step calculated and quiet. He didn’t make a sound. Not until he reached the younger boy. “We have to get you out of here—“ Race just shook his head, tears falling down his cheeks at the thought of leaving his father like he was. Spot placed a steady hand on his arm and nodded. “If they find you, they will kill you right in front of your dad,” he whispered as Race tried to calm himself down. “They will torture you and then murder you right in front of him. We have ta go. Now.”

Still, Tyler hesitated. Everyone knew what the dark lord wanted. He wanted to purify the wizard world. He believed that pure bloods were the only true wizards and those who didn’t fit that criteria should be disposed of in order to cleanse their once sacred world. Trouble is, only very few witches and wizards these days were pure bloods. In fact, the dark lord himself had muggle blood running through his veins. But these people didn’t seem to care. They still hung on his every word, fetching him muggle borns and making a grand show out of torturing and killing them.

His father was next.

As he peaked around the corner again, he saw that the dark lord was still talking, but many of his followers had stopped listening and were instead throwing food and drinks and insults at the paralyzed man floating above their dinner table.

“Scumsucker!”

“Blood-traitor!”

“Filthy mudblood!”

They were laughing. It was vividly clear that the young man was in pain, hardly able to take a breath, now horrified at the thought of his only child being brought here to join him and they were laughing at him.

“I can’t leave him here,” the child argued, grasping his wand even tighter in his hand. “Spot... I can’t leave him—“

“You are the only thing keepin’ him alive, Racer!” the older boy hissed, grabbing his arm. “We have ta go. You have ta go!”

Before he could protest again, Albert was at his side too, grabbing his other arm and guiding him away, gently pulling his wand from his grasp.

The derogatory terms sunk into Race’s skin like fire. They burned and stung and he didn’t know why. They were just words. None of it should hurt him this bad.

He could remember stories his father had told him about his time as a student at Hogwarts, how other kids had been rude and mean to him because of where he came from. They’d called him “Mudblood.” They’d written the word everywhere they knew he would see it. Someone from his own house even carved it into his wooden bed frame. He remembered his father telling him how much the word hurt even though he knew he was on his way to becoming a very powerful wizard.

The young man had been trying to explain to him that some people would always see him as a half blood, just as many of his own students still saw his father as a mudblood. That didn’t mean that they were less than or worthless. It just meant that they came from different places.

It didn’t make the words hurt any less.

“I can’t leave him!” Race hissed again, trying to get back to his dad. He needed to get back to him. But Spot and Albert did not let go of him. And before he could struggle from their grip, he was back outside.

I’m so sorry...

#newsies #newsies live #newsies musical #newsies au #harry potter au #hogwarts au #modern era #modern newsies #modern au #magic au #magic abilities #jack kelly #racetrack higgins #spot conlon #albert dasilva #warden snyder #obadiah weasel #oscar delancey #angst #tw torture #tw kidnapping #dark magic #defense against the dark arts #baby race #dad jack #teenage dad #newsies fanfiction #fanfiction #random #impulse

[rpbetter]

Hey, can I get some advice on improving my descriptions / becoming more literate? I feel like I'm really dull when it comes to my writing and would like some advice! Thank you!

You absolutely can, thank you for asking! I apologize it took me a bit to get to this, tumblr didn’t show me notifications and I’ve been rather busy. Hopefully, I can offer some good advice!

Please, keep in mind that, as always, it is just my advice. If these things do not work out for you, don’t feel bad about it! You just need to find what does work for you. And, if you have anything that jumps out at you that you wish me to elaborate more on, or even that simply occurs to you more specifically to ask as you read, please, do ask! I am always happy to have those questions, of course.

Being more literate in itself can help. It can also be a hindrance, however, as we tend to compare ourselves to others negatively. I’d say not to do that, but it’s something you have to unlearn, not something you can simply stop doing. We’re taught a lot of self-criticism by comparison in both the educational system and our society. You’ve got learn to approach material you enjoy as just that, something you enjoy, not a standard you need to uphold. All writers should be unique, they’re all individual people! I think the death of a good many unwritten works hinges on that, honestly; the writer couldn’t live up to their own expectations, born of comparison to their literary heroes.

That being said? Read.

Read new and diverse things, and revisit old favorites. Learn as many words as you can in whatever way works best for you; through reading alone, through word of the day apps, or looking up novel words you run across/looking up words as you write to compare them to synonyms. I know, tumblr has gotten really nasty in recent years about writers who seem to have “regurgitated a thesaurus.” There is always a bad way to do something good, there are always excesses when you’re passionate about something. Don’t replace every third word with an exotic one simply because you think it looks better. Do replace words that are, legitimately, better in how they evoke the setting or mood you are going for. Remember that word flow is important, perhaps especially when it comes to descriptions.

If you do not tend to read much material that is description heavy, I’d suggest doing so. Try to find works that are still descriptive, but fit with the genres you like to both read and write the best to get you started, but don’t stay there exclusively. It doesn’t need to be something like...let’s say, Tolkien. Not to piss anyone off, I’m not anti-Tolkien or anything, but I could never get into his works, regardless of interest or effort, because they’re so description heavy, and in ways that don’t pique or hold my interest much. So, if you find that you are not into description laden works, that isn’t a poor reflection on you! It’s more likely that you simply aren’t into those specific works, you need to find something that is more of interest to you, personally.

If you do tend to read many works that are descriptive at all, take up a few of your favorites and pick some passages within them that you enjoyed the most. Ones that you could feel. When they described an outfit, you not only saw it, you saw the way it moved on the character, knew what it would feel like to touch it. When they described a setting in nature, you had a sensory experience there as well; you could smell the hyper-specific scent of wildflowers on a warm breeze, or the electric chill of a sudden summer storm moving in.

Ask yourself what does this for you so that you can experiment with doing it yourself. Is it the words, the word flow? Is it what the author isn’t saying, leaving the reader to automatically fill in with their own sensory recollections? There are so many ways of being descriptive in writing, as many as there are writers, and as many as there are things to be descriptive about.

So, it’s, again, a bit of a situation of finding what naturally pulls you into those descriptions yourself. While there are always good rules that can apply across the board with writing, it is a creative art. If you’re only following the rules others have set down, you can end up feeling negative about the process, yourself, and the product...or your readers/RP partners feel like the work is lacking or boring. Even when people can’t quite put their finger on something, forced work feels forced, unnatural, or lacking substance.

Diversify what you consume.

I know, I just said that thing about the familiar stories! Once you’re better able to identify what it is that stands out as evocative to you, though, you can better feel that in unfamiliar works. You can get a better idea of how language itself works as a living thing. Read some things out of your usual genres, ask for recommendations from friends or family who read, check out some older works, and even follow some blogs that post a variety of poetry quotes or full poems.

Reading song lyrics and a variety of other spoken-word style things like slam poetry and rap is helpful as well. They’re all doing the same here, evoking imagery and emotion. That is what you are trying to do as well! These formats, additionally, use highly evocative words to describe in a shortened way. They are great for realizing unique ways that familiar words can be paired.

By going outside of your usual bounds, you may encounter words, writing styles, and other descriptive qualities you hadn’t considered before. If you don’t, you still end up with a fuller grasp on writing itself. Everything is a potential learning experience if you are willing to approach it that way! Use it to play around with words and styles, Use this as experimentation, and realize that it is perfectly alright for it not to work out. That’s part of the exercise of finding what works for you; realizing what doesn’t work.

When you have some ideas of what makes you experience the things being described, practice. Pick anything. In fact, incredibly mundane, irrelevant things are perfect for this. If you can describe a sock in good detail, in a way that isn’t either inaccurate or boring, giving it relevance and life, you can describe anything.

Use ask memes and writing prompts, and write them out from your character’s perspective.

Even if you are not writing a first person account, it helps you to use narrative language that the muse might use, or that gives the reader a intuitive feeling for the muse. Don’t try to fill the whole thing up with descriptions. Sometimes, just simplifying is a good thing, and will help more relevant details stand out.

For example, I will often use things in the environment around my muse to help pair with, further denote, and give the reader a feeling for the muse’s emotions, psychological state, and so on. If that muse is in a hectic state, I’m not going to describe something in the environment that isn’t, like a peaceful meadow. I’m going to describe the seeming chaos of some ants in the grass taking apart their food, the erratic seeds or spores on the wind, or the clatter of an old farm truck on the roadway that breaks up the peace of the surroundings.

It’s a very different effect than describing the entire meadow in high detail, in ways that are perceptible to my muse and not, down to a blade of grass or a rock. It then takes over too much of my reader’s imaginative process and agency without giving them anything of nonnegotiable importance about the scene or the muse. Details that reflect a state of internal distress, like the ants, seeds, or truck, then fall by the wayside of this massive scene-setting I’ve done. And, as unfortunate as it is, if you are writing RP especially, your audience is looking for details that are pertinent and impactful. They’re likely to, intentionally or otherwise, skip several paragraphs of descriptions no matter how beautiful they are.

Since you just said “descriptions” and “writing” {nothing wrong with that, I just want to be sure I’m covering as much as possible that might be of help to you}, I’m not sure if you are meaning external descriptions or more internalized, character-driven ones, and not sure if you are writing only RP, only traditional writing, or a combination thereof.

As I said above, using descriptions that reflect things about the muse is useful and interesting, regardless of how or what you are writing. So, even if you were not meaning internalized descriptions, doing the things I’m about to talk about relating to this will still be helpful!

Internalized descriptions include things like: mood, thoughts, memories, and sensory perception.

To do these things any justice, you have to really know your muse, be able to experience things from their unique perspective and not just your own - or just what you wish the reader to experience through them.

If you didn’t have inspiration for the muse, you wouldn’t be writing them, but inspiration isn’t the same as knowing them as well, maybe better, than yourself. To do that, it is a process of learning and experimentation...and practice.

Those memes I mentioned above? Those are useful here, too! It doesn’t matter if it isn’t an ask meme you want to reblog, or if no one sent you anything from it; you can find a variety of memes, save them, and ask yourself the questions.

On sentence memes, or “starter memes,” ask yourself what your muse’s internal reaction to having that sentence said to them would be, how it might externalize (or not), and if these things are true, or just your perception/what you would like to have happen. If you’ve developed this muse from scratch or spent time learning them from canon, you should have some pretty good ideas as to how they’ll feel. Expand on that instinctive or learned idea. Does it change if a different muse or character type says this? Say it is an inflammatory sentence, something accusatory, derogatory, or pushy. Do they react the same way if a loved one says it instead of a stranger? How about a person who is obviously intoxicated, or a person who is under the influence of youth, so to speak? Take that, and write out two different scenarios.

On ask, or “headcanon/development memes,” pick a question and answer it yourself. Just answer it in depth. Now, have your muse answer that question. You may notice that the muse didn’t want to answer as clearly, is lying or omitting things, and/or had other thoughts generated by that question. If you didn’t already do it this way, answer the question again as a story in which your muse goes through those thoughts. Describe their emotions using words that carry the same emotional resonance, not all descriptions need to be lengthy if the right words, right word order, are found for optimum impact on the reader. Write out the thoughts they are having, just as messy as they are naturally having them.

Outside of memes, you have yet more options for helpful exercises that get you in touch with your muse and your writing.

Try out photography and inspiration blogs. Pick a some pictures that drew your attention, and write about them descriptively. Write out how the picture makes you feel, what it makes you think about. Practice not just describing how something looks, but how it would feel to be there. Using the same pictures, write as your muse in the same way. Put them in this scene to give their experiences. It helps you get a grasp on putting impressions and experiences down in creative ways that allow others to experience it the same way, and it helps you more easily step into your muse’s mind and experiences.

Seeing things through your muse’s eyes (through the lens of their life experiences, preferences, biases, emotions, and thoughts) is critical in giving authentic descriptions. To do more of this, you can practice in every day life. Even if you cannot write it out, or write it out yet, you can consciously think as your muse. If your muse was watching this TV show or hearing this song, what would they think? Don’t just answer as, “they would/n’t like it.” Answer as to why they would or would not, what it makes them feel and think. You can continue doing this with your muse’s impressions of different environments and people.

You can even simply contemplate an emotion and how your muse feels and expresses it.

Adding on underlying and overarching emotions to the mix as you go along; emotion, and thought, is complex. We very rarely are only angry, sad, or happy. We are very rarely only thinking of a single thing, and even rarer, thinking of it out of nowhere. It’ll help you identify the way your muse experiences emotion and thought, as well as how best to describe these things.

For example, I write a muse that can easily present as simply being quiet and angry. Additionally, as the character develops, his actions and general behavior can seem to not match well with his overall, genuinely kind nature. It’s necessary for me as a writer to identify where the anger comes from, what its components are; it isn’t just anger. It’s built on the things anger so often is; frustration, sadness, and fear. It gives the reader insight and helps delineate the muse’s expression of “anger.” When the anger is coming more from a place of insulation and protection than it is frustration, it presents differently.

I describe the sensation of the most obvious emotion, the anger, but also the underlying states that have led to it being apparent. How it really feels to be a wounded animal in a corner. I describe an experience or two pertaining to the emotional pain and fear, keep it relevant throughout the text in callbacks (what set him off is related to those experiences in some way, and during or after the experience of anger, those other situations are referenced again). Maybe it is an outright flashback, maybe it is less thematically stated. The descriptions I use, again, of his surroundings-not just his expressions, tone of voice, or movements-denotes that he is in this particular state of mind. He might notice similarities in the environment relating to a previous bad experience, since he is in that mindset, or he might be noticing things in a more critical way than he normally would. Things he might see every day are being processed as hateful in some way; garish or otherwise visually displeasing, might be seen as outright harmful, or even menacing. Bold colors, sharp lines, stand out. Things come into high relief and are painted in large swaths of color, the minute details missing suddenly.

Further, you can think of things that make your own similar state of mind so much worse in these situations. Is there a repetitive sound in the background? Is the person he is speaking with seemingly blowing him off in some way? Is he hungry, tired, thirsty, in physical pain? I then write those things throughout as additional, building irritants. 

Using your personal experiences isn’t a bad thing, I really wish tumblr hadn’t gotten into that mindset. Unless you really have written a 100% self-insert character, they shouldn’t experience things exactly as you do, no. However, you have a basis to go off of already when you are describing their inner life; your own.

Maybe you have never been so wracked with grief that you collapsed, but you have been caught up in a significant loss of some sort that you can build upon. If you can better imagine what your muse’s experience is, you can describe it not only better, but also in a way that reads as legitimate. It’s not a description of grief that you could have gotten from anywhere else, doesn’t have cliché lines in it about grief, such as, “though he was drowning in an ocean of loss, he knew he had to be strong for his friends, so, he put on a brave face.” (There are other issues with that, but that’s a whole other post!)

My point is, you have the tools of accurate inner life within you, and you should use them to build that accuracy in your writing. Again, play with the words and structure, make sure you are building the feelings or otherwise being immersive about them. Keep them throughout the thread, do not have a muse magically become the opposite of what you’ve described because it is no longer convenient, and do not forgo little reminders that the muse feels the way they do, no matter what their actions might be saying.

When you describe your muse’s actions that are being influenced by an emotion, good or bad, use words that evoke the emotion while describing those actions.

If the muse is very sad, do not use words that bring to mind vivacity and passion. Don’t use metaphors that bring to mind those same things. Your muse doesn’t slink like a jungle cat to the table when depressed, but they might move in a daze, like a shadow, or a have to put maximum effort into their every step as though heading to their own execution.

I don’t think anyone should describe, let alone to an extreme, every action their muse undertakes, but when you are imparting these things with emotional tone or thought processes, it really shouldn’t be done. It’s exhausting for you to write, and just as exhausting for your reader, who is very likely going, okay, we get it, she’s angry. Like the descriptions of the surroundings, try to keep it to important and telling actions. You needn’t describe your muse’s every eye movement, but if they are so embarrassed they’re having trouble keeping eye contact, or so annoyed they glare, that is a description you want to add.

Writers never seem to forget facial expressions or dramatic body movements, which is reasonable, considering how visual a species humans are, but quite often forgo tone of voice and word pronunciation entirely. These are great ways to denote what your muse is feeling. Consider how your muse speaks most often, whether they work at proper pronunciation and hiding an accent, or if they simply let their most natural speech flow. Then, consider how different emotions might impact that. I’m not talking about the only go-to many muns on tumblr have, the “my muse speaks -first language here- when angry” thing. I’m talking about your muse entering into any emotion strongly enough to drop crisp pronunciation, outright mess up familiar and easy words, stumble, stutter, or pause. Write emotion into your muse’s speech, and don’t keep it to adding things like, “said angrily.”

That’s telling, not showing, and is the death of descriptive writing of any sort.

Doing any of the above in a document is highly recommended. Not only are you less likely to encounter tumblr eating your drafts as you work on them, you have more freedom to open it up later and play around with the structure. Additionally, writing directly on the platform can be distracting in more ways than just the desire to dash scroll! It can make you feel like you need to be doing what you owe instead, need to be responding to messages, posted memes, comments. Taking it off site feels more like your own space and time for experimentation.

I know this was long, and covered many points (though, it could always use more). So, I’m going to kind of rehash some below!

For learning and inspiration:

read things both familiar and not in order to figure out what sort of descriptions speak to you, then practice doing them yourself

read a variety of works, not just books, and not just new books; oftentimes, the lessons in older books will stand out to you even more for using descriptions that are no longer common. Those lessons still hold, like the very act of using common, highly recognizable objects and settings to describe a person, place, or thing. In those cases, see what you can rewrite that would give the same feeling using things that are currently so recognizable

don’t count out things like music and poetry, they flow with emotion and it is imperative that they give emotion and setting in unique ways

use ask/starter memes, pictures, and even common situations occurring around you to experiment with both writing descriptions and getting into your muse’s mindset

think on your own experiences with your environment and emotions

consider how your muse’s perceptions may change based upon thoughts and emotions, and/or how you can describe the setting to reflect and drive home these factors

really get to know your muse by exploring headcanon memes, giving yourself a refresher on their canon (yes, even if you wrote it), and comparing and contrasting your experiences with your muse’s on the same topics

experiment with new words, their use, and their flow

seriously, practice! Outside of writing you intend for anyone else to ever see!

Things to Remember:

you are unique as a person, therefore, you are unique as a writer...and that is a good thing, you just need to find what works for you

describe things that are important in setting the scene in ways that are not just visual; be emotive, and pick things that have bearing on the immediate topic

don’t forget that your muse’s voice and spoken words use can, and should be, impacted by thoughts and feelings

just like you, your muse is unlikely to see the same objects in the same light under any manner of strong emotional influence

also just like you, who is saying something and in what context is extremely important in how your muse reacts internally and how that is presented externally; if your muse feels and reacts the same way no matter the other party, they’re a little cardboard and you’re not being descriptive or thoughtful enough

listen, if you just really need to describe something utterly irrelevant to live another second? That’s fine, but you need to make it relevant. Perhaps, your muse noticed the cracks on that rock because they’re in an altered state - be that by way of a substance, or an emotion

there is a reason why we use clichés, and I am not going to say they should never be used, just that you should try to be more creative with them, and they should always be viable ones that truly match the mood

the same is true of words, we have some words that are just so commonly expressive of sensations and emotions that they come up quite often, but again, try to find something similar if possible, and always make sure it’s still evoking the right thing

I repeat: get in touch with your muse, even if you do not write them from first person. The language you use as a writer to describe them and their world is better if it feels like them

no support for tumblr’s anti-wordiness, but huge support for optimizing word use for maximum impact

to that end, if you’re a RPer, even a fic writer, please know that your desire to write descriptively isn’t going to be appreciated by some people. That’s their fucking loss, and you are better off without them. You will find the audience that will properly appreciate what you’re doing!

I hope some of this helped to give you some starting points you might not have thought of!

#rp advice #writing advice #descriptive writing #Anon E. Mous #answered

[lohsewest3]

Precisely why Everything Must Start With WHY?

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The video was intriguing enough for me to be able to visit his web site and find out my WHY. Under-going the method he organized was A LOT of job. The instructions were fairly simple but forced me in order to really think. At times it required me look from my past of which I helped me form of uncomfortable. I had to remember how things made me feel and oftentimes there were situations that didn't create me feel consequently good. As I actually approached the conclusion of the job everything started to become clearer. My partner and i understood just what each exercise was with regard to and how the stuff I really planned to do right now was starting in order to take shape as far back because I could bear in mind. This was absolutely life changing! Why will be WHY important? Due to the fact the WHY is definitely what puts me for the reason that ZONE. I actually love the things i do and I are focused on this. The greater I perform it the more I want to carry out it. Selection way to spend my working time? I don't even think about what I am carrying out work. That's the reason why all you do should begin with WHY. This will ensure your success because whenever you are within your ZONE a person are the most productive. In the event you really want to end up being Successful you must get as productive while possible. Investing the time in yourself is the better investment you may make inside your business. Give it a new shot. Just request your self 2 questions. 1: Exactly what do I have in order to lose? Minnesota Lakeshore Living : Precisely what is I prepared to do for My Success? MICRO ORGANIZATION SUCCESS CENTERS will be the premier Micro Organization success solution in the world. Micro Business owners are being transformed into "THE PRESIDENTS INVOLVING THEIR COMPANIES" with some our philosophy plus utilizing our solutions to their fullest extent advantage. Perishable businesses are becoming beneficial, sellable assets that will can outlive humans especially their owners. Using current technology, we work since a cohesive staff with you to reorganize and create an structure to your business. We get you out of the business office and from the phone so that an individual can do exactly what you do most effective. NY Business Grasp Minds is some sort of new MeetUp group following the Concepts of The Tiny Business Success Centers. Please feel free to see what we are all about in our next celebration. You don't Have got to do it alone! [http://www.microbusinesspros.com] jrdcpa@microbusinesspros. com

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[kiribakuhappiness]

I wanna know your thoughts on the possible new my hero moivee With all the different theories going around I wanna know you standing point

I’m glad you brung it up ‘cause I’ve been dying to talk about it for a hot minute, first of all -

Okay. I have so. many. thoughts. on this and I’ve been waiting until I felt a bit better after being sick to answer this ask because I tried to write up a response already and my brain was so foggy that it literally made no sense, I was just *rambling* and then I pointed to a picture that was completely unrelated and went - see?!?! Ahaha! Like, oh my god.

But! Now I’m back on my coherent rambling bullshit so - here we go. (Please be aware of any slight spoilers regarding the manga / series in this post and that all of these are my own opinions and my own theories, which you are more than welcome to disagree with or have some kind of rebuttal for. I’m just here to be a part of the discussion and throw in my two cents on a few things since some of my followers are curious!)

These are all of my first immediate thoughts upon seeing the promotional image and the tagline included.

*cracks knuckles*

Their new costumes??

Their new costumes?????

I don’t know how to describe this feeling that I have nor do I have any evidence to back up this first claim that I am about to make but my only thought on the costumes is that they are government-issued or specially-made specifically for a certain mission or training exercise, mostly because of the NHA (National Hero Association???) logo printed on the sides and also because they’re not shown in the manga or anything like that outside of this promotional teaser -

But damn, are they sleek as FUCK.

Like, if Todoroki went the rest of his days using that suit, I would die happy, because wow, immaculate. I am so in love with Bakugou’s new gauntlets. Just fucking send me to heaven (or hell idk the rules) now.

As for the “HE” in the teaser sentence shown on the original image – I think, like most people do, that it is meant to be inferred that they are referring to All for One in some degree (though I don’t think that All for One is going to be the main villain of the movie. I think there will probably be a side villain or something that takes precedence over All for One and that All for One might appear just for a bit at the end or something).

HOWEVER, I have other theories about who “HE” is referring to, which I will get into in a moment.

(Quick side bar here –  Do any of my followers also think that All for One is Deku’s father or something? Because let me tell you, ya girl just can’t get this damn fan theory out of her head ‘cause like... Deku was born quirkless, All for One is about borrowing and lending quirks, all the other parallels, and we know how much my man Horikoshi loves parallels… I just... I don’t know what happened along the way and I think someone posted something ages ago that may or may not have debunked that entire theory already but after the Dabi reveal of recent chapters it just feels very in line with the BNHA mindset and previously displayed plot twists, but WHAT DO I KNOW, BACK TO THE SHOW!)

So.

The three musketeers.

There’s a lot to unpack there.

Firstly, I think Todoroki is going to experience One for All at some point in some way, because Bakugou already experienced it and the whole slogan for the three musketeers is “all for one and one for all, united we stand divided we fall” - which is obviously a play on the quirk and All for One, blah, blah, blah. So I think that at some point Todoroki is also going to have One for All for a short period of time just like Bakugou had in Heroes Rising (but boy, if they try to pull the same bullshit they did before where they were like “OOP. He used OfA but he doesn’t remember any of it lul” I’m going to lose my fucking mind, cause that really pissed me off in Heroes Rising LOL).

But. I also wanted to take a closer look at Alexandre Dumas’ novel “The Three Musketeers” - just for funsies (stay with me on this wild ride, I promise I connect all the dots at the end):

Disclaimer: I am a huge literature nerd. I’ve read “The Three Musketeers” so many damn times, it’s insulting, and there’s A LOT that happens in those novels that I won’t ever be able to ramble on about for long enough to do it justice for those who haven’t read it and that’s fine because there’s only a few things that I would like to bring to everyone’s attention in regards to the original stories and how they may or may not connect with this movie.

1. None of the three musketeers are the protagonist of the story.

The protagonist is actually a man called D’Artagnan, or sometimes he is referred to as “the fourth musketeer” by readers, who arrives in Paris because he wants to join the King’s musketeers, but somewhere along the way he ends up offending/pissing off the three musketeers and they all end up challenging him to this duel (because of course they do, violence solves everything, don’t you know?) and the duel ends up getting interrupted by a bunch of guards working for the ‘bad guy’ (who I won’t name just to keep this as simple and straight forward as possible) and D’Artagnan ends up fighting WITH the three musketeers to defeat the guards and they all end up being friends (LMAO I am way oversimplifying this but that’s literally what happens and now you get the point).

2. The ‘bad guy’ has a lot of his work done for him by his right-hand woman; MiLady de Winter.

I believe (and this is just one of my theories) that MiLady from the three musketeers is SUPPOSED to make us believe that it’s the reflection of the UA traitor, but I don’t think she actually IS, and I will also explain what I mean by that in another moment.

SO!

With these two pieces of information in mind, I theorize that the aforementioned “HE” in the tagline actually doesn’t have anything to do with a villain or All for One at all, but it’s actually referring to whoever ends up fighting alongside the three musketeers (Bakugou, Midoriya, and Todoroki) in the movie, and who the entire movie is going to be centered around in some way or another (don’t misread this; I still think that Midoriya will be the main NARRATOR of the movie but I don’t think that means that he will be the main CHARACTER – there’s a very distinct difference between those two roles. One of them is telling the story, the other is who the story is actually about).

Now, IF we’re sticking with the three musketeers theme (which you can tell I’m obviously leaning very heavily on that being the case in all of my theories because that is literally all that we are given to theorize about at this time), then I would like to provide my take on who is who, because I think it’s a very important distinction, which are as followed:

Bakugou is Porthos

Porthos is generally known for being very extroverted, loud, he is known for his physical strength, and he is described as being “gullible” (which, that word by itself with its reflexive connotations doesn’t seem to fit him at all, but when you think about what the word gullible actually means – easily persuaded or manipulated – then yeah, it fucking fits the boot LMAO). Not to mention that he (Porthos) is often used as a sense of comic relief, which I truly believe that Bakugou is ‘used’ sometimes as a comic sense of relief throughout the manga and anime, because it off balances his ferocious nature in a way that further proves to the audience that just because he is feral, that doesn’t inherently mean that he is bad.

Midoriya is Aramis

Aramis is generally known for being vastly ambitious and never satisfied in the sense that he is always working for more, which stumbled me at first because I was originally picturing Bakugou as Aramis, but he (Aramis) craves to live the life of a solider (see the parallel? Midoriya craves to live the life of a hero), and he (Aramis) sees every new victory as a step in the right direction to a ‘greater power’ (which, if my characterizations are correct, parallels Midoriya’s mindset that every new victory or challenge he overcomes is another step towards better handling and controlling One for All and making it his own quirk).

Todoroki is Athos

Athos is generally known for being very noble, handsome, and he is a bit of a sad or melancholy character, as he has a very depressing and mysterious backstory that he actually ends up telling to D’Artagnan, but he doesn’t end up telling D’Artagnan that the sad story is based on him (which, I don’t know about you guys, but that damn near sounds like Todoroki Shouto to me).

Now.

NOW.

Are you guys ready for this? We’re gonna get into the really good theories here.

I would no doubt be flooded with inboxes and messages if I didn’t mention the poses that the boys are portraying in the teaser image and how it all connects to the mysterious UA traitor and how everyone (including me) is losing their damn minds over the fact that Bakugou is using Kirishima’s pose, and so people are theorizing that must mean that Kirishima is the traitor since Midoriya and Todoroki are mimicking both Shigaraki and Dabi, respectively.

Here is my theory on all of that, and here is the detail that I think a lot of people are overlooking that I think might be really important IF (seriously, all of my theories ride on this) IF Horikoshi and the producers are indeed leaning heavily on the comparisons between “The Three Musketeers” and the BNHA characters (which I can only assume that they are, otherwise they would have chosen different wording, etc, for their promotional images).

So, Athos’ big sad backstory is all about how he was married to this woman who then ended up being revealed as this convicted thief and all this angst happened and by the end of it, Athos believes that his thieving wife is dead.

Athos believes that his thieving wife is dead.

Athos (TODOROKI) believes that his thieving wife (MURDEROUS BROTHER - DABI) is dead.

I just. I feel like this is really important BECAUSE in “The Three Musketeers” story, Athos’ thieving wife who he believed to be dead (drink every time I repeat that line ahaha) is actually alive and well and working for the aforementioned ‘bad guy.’

HMMM. DOES THAT SOUND LIKE ANYONE WE KNOW????

It’s my theory (and my own opinion) that this whole movie is going to be heavily driven by the Todoroki family and all of their Keeping up with the Kardashian type drama in some way (maybe not directly because manga and spoilers and blah, blah, blah, but in some sort of significant way), because the first movie was all about Midoriya going to I-Island and learning more about One for All and All Might and everything like that, and then the second movie was all about Bakugou and how he ended up using One for All and how he and Midoriya worked together and they showed snippets of the LoV doing their things back in Musutafu, and now I just assume that Todoroki is probably going to be given One for All at some point in this movie, or he’s going to share it amongst Bakugou and Midoriya, because the three musketeers, and the fact that he’s in the promotional teaser when literally nobody else is, and the fact that his character heavily seems to reflect Athos character in the novel to an almost absurd degree.

So, for me, the whole ‘Kirishima being the UA traitor’ and that being proven by Bakugou using his signature move in the teaser photo is not anything to seriously worry about - and I don’t say this just because I’m a KiriBaku fan or anything at all like that (though seriously, if it’s true, what the fuck am I gonna do with this damn blog, I-?? Ahaha!) but I say this for a few different reasons;

I don’t think the “convicted thief” or whatever that is heavily implied within the three musketeer story is connected to Bakugou in anyway, I think it’s all a contrasting parallel to Todoroki and the Dabi reveal somehow, and that the UA traitor won’t be making any kind of appearance in this film in that way.

I don’t think their relationship (Bakugou and Kirishima) is center stage enough to be used as any kind of plot twist in the story, unfortunately. And what I mean by that is; I think that the entire relationship was built up as a way to influence the audience into rethinking their original thoughts about Bakugou’s character from the beginning of the series (since in the beginning he was literally the most horrible shit kid to Midoriya and everyone hated him and he was treated as a villain – blah blah blah – thus building up the suspense leading up to the rescue arc in which the audience was genuinely divided at the time on whether or not Bakugou was actually going to side with Shigaraki and join the LoV), because then once he (Bakugou) declines the offer to join the LoV and he accepts Kirishima’s helping hand, it was supposed to be a turning point for the audience to realize that they may have been misled by his feral ambition into believing that he could really be a bad guy when in the end, he’s just as much of a hardcore hero fanboy as the rest of his class, and that if such a great guy like Kirishima can befriend him then he must not be all that bad.

We have already seen Kirishima’s backstory. We have already seen the struggles he faced to get accepted into UA, we have already seen how much he looked up to Mina’s bravery, we have already been introduced to his undying love for the most chivalrous hero Crimson Riot, and hey, maybe this whole persona thing he has going on is all an act, sure. Maybe the villains got to him when he was still dark-haired and weak, and maybe they are copy+pasting Crimson Riot into Red Riot as a way to slip under the radars, yeah, maybe. But I really fucking doubt it. Mostly because, unfortunately, I believe his relationship with Bakugou (as mentioned above) was written specifically to reverse the audience’s opinion of Bakugou, but then since he became so popular and was such a loved character, that then his inclusion in the Eri rescue operation sort of solidifies him as the man that Horikoshi says he is. It just wouldn’t make any sense, in my opinion as a writer, to turn Kirishima right around in a 360-twist to be revealed as the traitor, since it would just feel like too much of a stab in the back in regards to the trust that the readers are giving Horikoshi in believing that what he shows us is more or less the truth because we don’t have anything else to go on and he went into such great detail into his backstory that it would be such a waste to then say, ha, SIKE.

I think that Bakugou using Kirishima’s pose is a deliberate red herring – I think it’s specifically meant to throw the audience off in all these different directions and to get the theories growing in the fandom, and I actually think that it’s meant to pull attention AWAY from Todoroki, because in my opinion, the entire movie will most likely focus heavily on Todoroki in some way or another (whether because of Dabi or not), since I believe that he will probably gain the use of One for All at some point during the film, just like Bakugou had, and I believe that the LoV (and more specifically, Dabi) will have some part in this film outside the realm of All for One.

I just think that the narrative is constantly trying to lead us in different directions so that you don’t end up paying much attention to all of the other little details that would then point towards something else, much like how (spoilers for some of the manga chapters here - if you don’t want to read then skip the rest of this paragraph) they keep kind of hinting at Bakugou’s death, over and over again, like dangling it on a string and being like, is he gonna die this time? What about this time? What about now - with his guts all over the place after he fucking saved Deku’s life? Could happen at any moment!

So, I just think that Bakugou using Kirishima’s pose is just because Kirishima has had a huge influence on his character development and it would be the perfect red herring to lead the fans on some wild goose chase in the interest of gaining public awareness for the movie.

(Also - in the discussion of the UA traitor, I really believe that it’s Class 1-B’s sensei, actually - ahaha! Either that or Aoyama, but I’ve started to kind of lean away from that one because Class 1-B’s sensei is fucking sus and I don’t care what anyone says, that’s my own theory until proven wrong! Just let me live in this world a little longer, okay?! :,D)

Soooo... to sum this shit up (TLDR AMIRIGHT LMAO), because holy shit this got way out of hand and I haven’t even really gotten into the meat of all of my theories regarding the fucking PLOT of the new potential movie yet but whatever –

TLDR;

-        I think the really cool NHA suits are temporary costumes issued specifically for some type of training exercise or undercover mission or something like that.

-        I think Bakugou posing like Kirishima is some kind of red herring meant to make everyone panic, but I don’t think it really holds any weight in the UA traitor discussion/theory, and I don’t think the UA traitor will be revealed in the movie – because it would kind of be dropping a BIG plot point in the series into a separate movie that maybe a good portion of the manga readers / anime watchers might not even see and therefore would not fully understand once the series caught up with the movie (whenever the timeline might be). I just think a lot of the stuff that happens in the movies are not directly related to the series for the very purpose that if somebody watches the anime but then doesn’t watch the movies, they don’t miss anything too important.

-        I think the movie might lean heavily on Todoroki and perhaps include some of his family drama, especially in regards to Dabi (since the reveal happened right before the promotional teaser dropped and generally speaking it takes about 8-9 months after initial speculation for the movie to then come out with a trailer of some kind, which would be plenty of time for those who want to read the manga to have done so by then), and that at some point during the film Todoroki is going to use or obtain One for All in a similar manner that Bakugou did in the second movie in order to help fight off a random side villain that doesn’t have much of an impact in regards to the fight between heroes and villains happening in the main storyline.

-        I think the “HE” in the teaser image doesn’t have much to do with All for One, but actually it’s referring to some mysterious side character who is going to end up fighting with Bakugou, Todoroki, and Midoriya (playing the parallel, inferred role of D’Artagnan) and that All for One won’t actually be the villain in the film, but he may show up for a bit at the end.

All of these theories revolve HEAVILY around the basis that the producers and Horikoshi are attempting to lean on any of the other parallels regarding “The Three Musketeer” novels – or if they just thought that The Three Musketeers sounded dope as fuck, let’s throw that on there because there’s three of them, right? Get it?

Which, if that’s the case, then literally most of my theories go right out the damn window and I have no idea what this movie could be about, LMAO!

So… yeah. What do you guys think?? I’d love to hear your ideas – rip this post to fucking shreds if you want to, because there’s like an 87% chance or higher that I’m completely off base with everything I’ve just said and that my over-active imagination clung onto The Three Musketeers relevance and just wouldn’t let go of it and it totally sent me off in the wrong direction, I don’t know! It’s possible, ahahaha!

Anyway

#these are all just my initial reactions #and the first thoughts that were rattling around in my head when I saw the promotional image #obviously I have no idea what the movie could be about #or even if there is a third movie at all #though it seems like it's very likely #so #do with this what you will #please don't bash me too much if I got any details wrong #or something doesn't line up right #this is literally such a rambling mess #I don't even know #ahaha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia movie #bnha theories #mha theories #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #todoroki shouto #kirishima eijirou #kiribaku #ua traitor #all might #all for one #other relevant bnha tags that I am too lazy to think of #bnha #my hero academia #asks

[namluve]

you had always been a part of the plastics and he was born on the wrong side of town. what happens when your worlds collide, and you realize that he is the only one in your life that’s not fake? 

paring: jungkook x reader

genre: 90′s AU, high school AU (both are 18), fwb to lovers, smut, fluff, angst

rating: mature, 18+

warnings: explicit language, jungkook has an alcoholic abusive father, alcohol consumption, switch!jungkook, switch!reader, sub/dom themes, noona kink, protected sex, unprotected sex, fingering, oral f receiving, face sitting, praise, blindfolding, dirty talk, manhandling, slight degradation, miscommunication that leads to lowkey unhealthy relationship

word count: 13k

note: first of all, I would like to thank @spicykoreantatertots​ for helping me with developing and editing this story. I can’t thank Hannah enough for all her help. secondly, I want to thank @joopiterjoon​ for always supporting me and helping me, especially with this fic. can’t wait to share the sequel once it’s done as well!

11 November 1991

Walking down the school’s hallway you sigh as you approach your group of friends. The four girls wave at you as you approach them. You smile quickly at them, thinking about the day you would have with them. Talk about boys. Complain about your parents. Discuss the latest fashion and of course, find some kind of way to bully you without it being too obvious. Ask where you found those shoes, if you had any cake for dinner last night and if you actually went through with the workout the five of you were supposed to do. Yep, just another day in your life. Wishing the week could swish by so you could have some alone time by the weekend. 

Well, maybe not all alone you think as you see Jungkook leaning against his locker, talking with his two best friends Jimin and Taehyung. Jungkook is a piece of work but at least he is honest with you. All you were to him was a booty call at 1 AM and frankly, you would not have it any other way.

“Oh ‘____’, we were just discussing this week’s exercises. I expect this weekend went well for you since you never reached out to us?” Tiffany chippered and you smiled, you had to play your part.

“It was so much fun! Especially the crunches, they got easier every day!” You exclaim and your group of friends seem happy with your response. The bell rang, thankfully, and the five of you began walking to class. Oh, did you long for college, a way out of this hell hole of a town. Away from the plastic bitches that were supposed to be your friends. The only thing all of you had in common was being the daughters of wealthy families living in the same neighborhood. God, you wish you could just move away from them. Only ten months left and that would be your reality.

“I can’t believe how you go by your days without having an alcohol problem.” You knew exactly what Jungkook was referring to, if anyone hated your friends equally as much as you, it was Jungkook.

“I feel like I’m soon gonna have to start day drinking,” you say, joining Jungkook, leaning against the wall with him. Meeting him outside after school hours was a common thing between the two of you. No one was around, besides the nerds in the library but it was not like they would tell anyone about the two of you meeting. 

“Let me know if you do, could need a drink myself,” you always appreciated Jungkook’s honesty, how he never once bullshitted you, no matter how ugly the truth was.

“Your dad?” He nodded at your question, sighing as he extinguished the cigarette in his hand on the wall that his back rested on. He knew he did not have to say anything else. You knew about his abusing father and he appreciated how he never had to explain himself to you. You understood him.

“Isn’t he supposed to go on a business trip this week?” He smiled slightly at you. You had remembered what he said last time the two of you met.

“Yeah… but not until tomorrow. His plane leaves in the evening. So… I wanted to ask you for a favour.” Turning towards you, he leaned against the wall sideways, putting his head against the wall and looking at you with his bunny eyes.

“No. We nearly got caught the last time you spent the night at my place.”

“Come on. I promise we won’t get caught this time either. You weren’t exactly quiet baby, you know?” So… he is trying to pin it on you even though he was the one who started it all? Not on your watch.

“It wasn’t me who couldn’t keep their hands to themselves.”

“Come on baby, I don’t wanna fight. I just want to spend the night at yours.” Stepping in front of you, Jungkook meets your gaze, looking at you lovingly, winning you over more every second. He knew you loved the nickname he had for you. Baby, it rolled so easily off his tongue and he knew the effect it had on you. Taking your hands in his he took a step closer, leaning his forehead against yours.

“I just want to sleep in your bed with you, my arms wrapped around you, your heat warming up my cold body. Your hair sprawled out on your pillow…” as Jungkook softly spoke to you, he gently pushed back your hair behind your ear before continuing, “your face in a pout as you sleep that I always wanna kiss away.” 

Jungkook’s words affected you more than you wanted, they always did. He always had you at the palm of his hand, wrapped around his finger.

“Ugh fine, but you have to sing me to sleep.” 

Leaning down he kissed you briefly, knowing the two of you were still out in public. “Anything for you.” Jungkook softly murmerd. 

Things like this made you wonder if there was something more than just sex between you and Jungkook. The two of you were not really exclusive and you knew he brought home different girls every week while you went on dates with guys your friends set you up with. They rarely led to anything more than that. The few times you had actually slept with them, they were all disappointments, none of them knowing your body like Jungkook did. 

In the evening, you tidied up your room, as you waited for Jungkook to arrive. Suddenly, a small stone hit your window and you knew it was Jungkook waiting to be let inside. Opening the window, you saw how Jungkook began climbing up the garage to reach your window. Throwing his backpack inside your room before he climbed in himself you took a moment to really look at him. Hair long and messy, parted in the middle, shoes dirty, brown oversized jacket that he probably got from his father slightly ripped on his left arm. He was not from a family of wealth, unlike you.

“You really have to let me buy you a new jacket.” You sigh as you move over to sit on your bed again, and he laughs.

“Nah, that would be too suspicious. Also, can’t take away all that money that probably needs to go to the latest bags that’ll come out soon.”

Groaning, you put your head back against the bed frame. “Ugh, don’t remind me of next week. Still can’t believe we have to buy matching bags as if we’re fucking ten years old or something.” This was Hanna’s idea and it was probably the stupidest thing to ever come out of her mouth. To be fair though, nothing smart ever came out of it either so.

“I’m just gonna wash up. Then we can go to bed,” Jungkook announced as he took off his jacket and threw it on his bag. He always showered when he came over to yours, never missing the chance to shower in actual hot water with nice soaps and shampoos.

“Don’t take too long.” You say as he brushes past you to go to your bathroom. Having your own bathroom connected to your bedroom was probably the most luxurious thing you had, according to Jungkook.

“Wouldn’t keep my girl waiting.” He said before closing the bathroom door. My girl. It was something that Jungkook had started to call you not long ago. The thing you had going on-- had been going on for over a year-- on and off, but for the last two months the two of you had been meeting every week. Neither of you knew what this meant and did not dwell on it. Enjoying each other’s company was enough for the two of you. 

Brushing your hair, you decided to put it up in a scrunchie before laying down on your bed. Shortly after, Jungkook was done with his shower and joined you in bed. Smelling like strawberries he began to quietly hum something in your ear as he drew you closer to him. Your back against his chest, his arms around you. You fell asleep fast that night, feeling safe in Jungkook’s arms. He waited until you had fallen asleep to admire your features once more before falling asleep as well. This was the first of many times the two of you shared a bed without having sex.

18 December 1991

“What do you wish for Christmas?”

“For the last time Jungkook, I’m not letting you buy me a Christmas present.” The two of you sat in his bedroom, doing some homework while his father was away and his mother at the store. For a whole week Jungkook had been trying to figure out what you wanted for Christmas, but you were not budging. Not one bit.

“It could be anything, it doesn’t have to be something I have to buy for you, if you are worried about the money.” 

Sighing, you let your textbook fall to the floor. “You really don’t have to.”

This you made very clear. He did not owe you anything and you did not owe him anything either. Although, you had already got him a Christmas gift. You saw it as your only chance to get the boy a proper jacket that was not ripped everywhere.

“I know but I want to give you something.” As he emphasized the want you realized there might be something more between the two of you. Something the two of you left unspoken as Jungkook went over to your place for the second time this week without any intentions of sleeping with you.

“A fantasy you wish to come true? Come on baby, you know I won’t judge nor that I would find it gross or anything. Most likely I’m more into it than you.” This was a fact, Jungkook was kinkier than you but not by much. There were some things you wanted to try but felt weird to ask about when the sex the two of you had was already good. Jungkook would dominate you and have you in any way he pleased while giving you tremendous amounts of praise. You loved it, but sometimes you wondered how it would be to dominate him. Have him crumble in your hands, blindfolded, not knowing what would happen next.

“Come on baby, I can see that you are thinking about it. Just tell me.” Urging you to tell him, Jungkook scooted closer to where you were sitting, a smirk on his lips.

“Maybe I could be in charge for once? Just to try it out?” You hesitantly suggested, searching Jungkook’s face to try and see his reaction. To your surprise Jungkook shrugged and leaned back against his bed.

“Sure, why not?” Smiling shyly, you were happy that Jungkook is agreeing to it, even though, so far, he had been the most dominant man you had been with in bed. Maybe he was different with others, you thought.

“Although…” Jungkook began. “You are probably the most submissive person I’ve ever met, so I have quite a hard time imagining it.”

“Oh really?” You said as you start crawling towards him. You needed to prove your point now, your competitive side needing to show him you could be dominant towards him. As you reach him across the floor, you straddle him, putting your arms around his neck. An amusing smirk pinned on his face as he watches you struggle to figure out what to do next. Usually, Jungkook would have told you to do something by now, but here he was, quiet, letting you take charge.

“I think…” You began, losing your trail of thought, feeling slightly overwhelmed with the situation.

“I think I need to tie you up.” You say a bit more confidently, biting your lip.

“Then get a tie from my drawer.” Jungkook tells you and you hop off him in order to find a tie in his drawer. Even when you were the one in charge, he called the shots. Coming back with the tie, you looked nervously at Jungkook who smiled widely at you as he got up from the floor.

“Where do you want me?” He asked and you thought about it for a second.

“On the bed, take off your shirt and pants.” Biting his lip, barely believing what you were saying, Jungkook complied with your order, taking off his clothes. Eager to see what you had in mind for him.

“Yes ma’am.” He said as he laid down on the bed. You joined him, sitting down beside his head, trying to figure out how to tie his hands to the bed. Jungkook saw your hesitation and sat up, taking your hands and the tie in his.

“I’ll show you how to do it, and you just have to do the same, okay?” Reassuring you, seeing you relax a bit, he showed you how to tie the tie around one of his hands. The knot seemed fairly simple you thought.

“Lay down.” Jungkook did as you said, and you took the tie around the bed frame, bringing it back to his other hand and tying the tie around his other wrist. Jungkook tugged on his hands slightly and when you saw that he was getting nowhere, you relaxed for a bit. Taking off your pants, you positioned yourself on top of him. Your clothed pussy above his half hard dick. Staring down at him, you were mesmerized by his abs. Boy did his workout pay off. You could sit endlessly and trace his chest and abdomen, so that is what you did.

“Noona…” Jungkook grunted after a while, growing harder with every second as you touched him in any way that pleased you. It was a nickname you had not heard in a while. In the beginning, he used it to tease you because you were a few months older than him. now it had a whole different meaning and oh did you love how it sounded when it came out of his mouth like a prayer.

“Yes?”

“Please kiss me.” Reaching down you captured his lips in a sweet kiss that soon enough grew heavier. You missed Jungkook’s hands all over your body but soon enough you remembered it was not the time for that now and you began planning what to do next. Jungkook felt when you began grinding on him, and he was happy his tactics worked. Kissing always made you relax and that was what he was after. He needed you to relax so you could enjoy this as much as he did. Feeling him grow even harder underneath you made you whimper, loving the way his dick felt beneath you. Jungkook moaned as you sat up and grinded down hard on him.

“Noona please… will you touch me?”

“Not yet, patience.” Taking off your top, leaving yourself in only your underwear, you continued to grind on Jungkook, earning a quiet moan from him. You wanted more. More specifically, you wanted his mouth on your clit. There was only one way that would happen in this position with him tied up. 

You would have to ride his face, something you had only done once before when you were drunk. Remembering how good it felt was all the motivation you needed to set your plan in motion. Pulling off your underwear while still sitting on Jungkook proved to be a challenge but eventually you got it off.

“Take off your bra too Noona, wanna see your tits.” Shaking your head at Jungkook’s words, you began to crawl your way upwards.

“Not yet, wanna ride your face first.” Jungkook hissed at your words, barely believing his ears. He had wanted you to ride his face again ever since that night you took one to many vodka shots and ended up sitting on his face.

“Fuck… please ride me Noona. I promise I’ll make you feel good.” Clenching upon hearing his words, you eagerly placed yourself above his face, holding the bed frame for support as you began lowering yourself down on him. Jungkook met you halfway, too eager to have to wait any more and you let out a deep moan as he licked your wet slit. You continued lowering yourself until Jungkook’s head rested against the pillow again, slowly grinding yourself on his tongue as he laid it out flat for you to ride. 

Your moans got louder as you approached your release and Jungkook took notice. Flicking his tongue fast against your clit as your movements slowed down. With legs shaking on either side of Jungkook’s face, you came. Your vision blurred, head a bit dizzy as you got off Jungkook and sat beside him on the bed. Looking at him tied up against the bed, breathing uneven, lips red and puffy you wanted nothing more than to kiss him, so you did. You tasted yourself on his lips as you softly made out with him before pulling away and releasing his hands from the bed frame.

“Had your fun baby?” He asked you, smiling, rubbing his wrists for a bit. You nodded and smiled back at him. It was better than you could have imagined. Never did you think you would find the courage to sit on his face again. You were afraid he would suffocate somehow and had always declined when he had asked. Of course, Jungkook never pushed you and let it go every single time. Finally, he got to have you ride his face again.

“Want me to take charge?” As you answered his question ‘yes’ he got on top of you, pushing you down towards the bed. Kissing you desperately and grinding himself against your wet core. He was almost painfully hard at this point.

“Feel what you do to me baby? You were such a good girl when you were in charge, made me so hard.” He whispered in your ear as he began to kiss your neck, leaving a few marks here and there until he found the spot that made you let out a moan. 

“Want me to make you feel even better? Want me to fill up that pretty little pussy of yours?” His hands found their way around to your back. He unclasped your bra, taking it swiftly off as he began to palm your breasts with one of his hands, the other supporting him so he could lay above you.

“Please.” You pleaded and Jungkook could never say no to you. Taking off his boxers and letting his cock nudge at your entrance, you whined.

“Someone’s impatient.” Jungkook teased and you rolled your eyes as you looked into his, making sure he saw it.

“Someone has been waiting for a while.” You snarked back at him and he laughed.

“Well you don’t have to wait any longer.” As soon as the words left his lips, he began to push inside of you. The stretch stinging a bit at first but as soon as he bottomed out and stayed still for a while, kissing you in the meantime, it all went away. When he started rocking into you, you were in pure bliss.

“Fuck… you feel so good.” Jungkook grunted and all you could reply with was the moans that left your mouth whenever he hit a spot that had you feeling pure bliss.

“Wanna go deeper… Can I do that baby?” Always asking, always making sure you are okay with everything.

“Please.” You answered, wanting nothing more. He put one of your legs on his shoulder, going even deeper and occasionally hitting your g-spot. When you started clenching around him, Jungkook took it as his cue to circle your clit with his finger to help you over the edge. As soon as he began drawing circles you moaned loudly.

“Shh baby, you are doing so good for me, but I need you quiet down a bit yeah?” You nodded and he dropped his head to yours to kiss you, muffling your moans. As he did the leg you had on his shoulder got stretched out more and you felt a little bit of pain at the uncomfortable position. Luckily it was barely noticeable as you came when Jungkook started rubbing your clit just a little faster, wanting you to cum at the same time as him.

This one, he dragged out until you almost started to feel overstimulated and started pushing him away. Getting your cue, he slowed down after one final thrust that sent him over the edge. Breathing heavily on top of you, Jungkook kissed you before getting up from the bed, cleaning the mix of both of your cum off his dick with a tissue as he got dressed.

“Want me to help you get dressed?” He asked as you switched positions, so you were laying on your side, breathless and almost dizzy, needing some time to recover.

“Yes please.”

Smiling, he picked up your clothes from the floor and began to help you dress. Normally he would not do this for a girl, but you were not just any girl, you were his girl.

 25 December 1991

Laying in bed in your room at night you suddenly heard a noise outside of your window. Going to check out what it was you see Jungkook looking up at you, hands in his jacket pockets and a beaming smile. Opening the window for him, he starts climbing up your house, something he does way to often nowadays you think. Once he got inside your room, he throws his arms around you before you could even ask him what he is doing here.

“Merry Christmas!” he says softly in your ear and you melt in his arms, hugging him back and mutter ‘merry Christmas’ back to him. Pulling away, he reaches inside his jacket pocket. His hands that had gloves on that did not cover his fingers (you always asked him if they even provided any heat) had now a small wrapped gift in them in front of you.

“Open your gift.” 

Beyond shocked that he had gotten you a gift you murmured back at him, “I thought we said no gifts?”

“Just open it.” He pleads and you cannot help but to do as he says. You take the gift from his hands and unwrap it slowly. It was a box. Jungkook had a grin on his face as your eyes met before you opened the box. Inside of it was a goldenrod scrunchie.

“You didn’t!” You exclaimed at him.

“I know how much you love that yellow sunflower dress so when I saw it, I couldn’t help myself.” He spoke as you inspected the scrunchie carefully, not believing your eyes.

“I have looked for it for so long, where did you find it?” You ask him and he shakes his head.

“Not telling, in case I have to buy you more presents.” He answers, and you laugh. Smiling at him, you put the scrunchie around your wrist and admire it.

“Thank you.” He just nods at you, unsure what to do now. Breaking the silence, you ask the question that you have been wondering ever since you saw him outside your window.

“Why did you come here? Shouldn’t you be with your family?” You saw the way his face frowned a bit. Truth to be told, Jungkook wanted to be anywhere but with his family.

“Dad asked me to go and buy him more booze, took a detour to see you.” Smiling at him softly, you nervously tuck your hair behind your ear before looking beside your bed to see the present that you had bought for him.

“Guess you’ll have to open yours now as well.”

“I thought we said no gifts?” His smirk was back on his face and you roll your eyes as you walk over to pick it up.

“Shut up and take it.” Walking over to him and almost shoving it in his arms he laughs.

“Feisty.” He says before looking at the package wrapped in front of him as big as his chest. He really wondered what you could have gotten him, that was this big. Now, his own gift felt lame but so did yours to you, knowing how much your gift means to you while your gift to him was a bit more… well… not that personal. As he unwrapped his package, he was greeted with a jacket, brown and looking much like the one he already owned, well except all the holes and dirt.

“Figured if I bought you a similar one, no one would notice, and you didn’t have to freeze as much. Argh, it’s so stupid!” You say as you slump down on your bed, brushing your fingers through your hair and letting out a sigh.

“Hey…” Jungkook spoke softly as he crouched down in front of you. Searching for your eyes with his as your head hung low, staring at your hands that were placed in your lap.

“It’s not stupid, I really love it.” Taking your hands in his he caresses them. You look up to meet his eyes. The worry slowly disappears from your body.

“Really?” You asked. Jungkook nods and smiles at you, bringing a smile to your face as well.

“Thank you so much.” Jungkook meant it. Never had anyone bought him clothes, noticing how cold he was in his old jacket, having to put on layers underneath it. Now he did not have to freeze every winter and rainy day. All thanks to your gift. All thanks to you.

  14 January 1991

"Are you coming to the party?" Jungkook asked as he was laying on your bed, mindlessly throwing a baseball he found in your room towards the ceiling and catching it on the way down. He had been asking you to come to this stupid party for days now. Parties were not your thing, but if it were not for them, you would never have met Jungkook. Still, you hated them. Parties meant spending more time with the plastics and going to a social gathering where everyone expected you to play some kind of role. A role you did not like.

“I’m not sure.” Answering him with the same answer as you did yesterday, Jungkook caught the baseball one last time before placing it down on your nightstand. As you sat on the bed next to Jungkook reading this week’s history chapter, you were suddenly attacked. Jungkook wrapped his arms around you, dragging you down with him. 

Squealing as you fell down on top of Jungkook you tried your best to wiggle your way out of his grasp. Jungkook chuckled and began to plant kisses all over your face, whenever he got the opportunity. Dropping your book beside you, you tried using your hands to get out of his grasp, but he was not budging. His strong grasp keeps you trapped against him.

“Ugh let me go Jungkook I have homework to do!” You tried reasoning with him but Jungkook would just ‘hmm’ in your ear, like he was in deep thoughts.

“On one condition… You come to the party.” Once the words left Jungkook’s mouth you tried your very best to get out of his grasp without any success. Sighing, you realized there was no other way if you were going to get your history homework done on time.

“Fine, I’ll come.” You agreed, thinking Jungkook was going to let go of you but as soon as you tried to get up you were pushed down against his body again.

“Jungkook!” You annoyingly exclaimed and he snuggled his head in the crock of your neck.

“Just give me a sec… You are so cosy. I can’t help myself.” Rolling your eyes at his words, trying to get out of his grasp one more time, Jungkook let go of you. Sitting up and picking up your book, you looked over your shoulder to see him lying peacefully on your bed. A smile on his face.

“Behave or else I’ll throw you out.” You warned him but he just chuckled at your words. Knowing you would never actually throw him out.

“I promise baby.”

 17 January 1992

The moment you saw him and Holly making out you wanted to gag. For days Jungkook had asked you if you were coming to the party, only to be making out with Holly as soon as you arrived. Anger, disgust filled your body. The two of you were not together by any means but you were still angry somehow, disgusted and a little hurt. You and the plastics had been appropriately half an hour late to the party. Drinking at Tiffany’s and getting ready. 

Already tipsy and fuelled with anger you took a shot before going out on the dancefloor in the living room to find someone who could get your mind of him. Somehow, Matt who happened to be two years older than you, caught your eye and you decided that he would do. He had been flirting with you at other parties so it felt safe to assume he was attracted to you and would want to dance with you. 

As you looked eyes with him and approached him, he took a swing of his beer, eyeing you up and down. Normally, this would make you feel something but tonight your mind was clouded by Jungkook. You were not looking for Matt’s attention, you were looking for his.

“Wanna dance?” You asked as you made your way over to him, standing now in front of him and looking up at him. He was way taller than you remembered, but then again, you decided not to wear your highest high heels tonight.

“Sure.” He said, putting down his beer and reached out to grab your hand, dragging you after him out on the dancefloor. The two of you started dancing together, your back pressed to his front, grinding your ass against his crotch. 

Your focus was however not on him, but on Jungkook who danced with Holly not far away from you. He stopped making out with her for a second, moving away her hair to expose her neck for him. When he leaned in to kiss her neck, he met your eyes. Shocked, he just looked at you for a second before starting to kiss Holly’s neck, never breaking eye contact with you. 

Never once did he think he would witness you in another man's arms, grinding your ass against him while he roams his hands all over your body. Never had you taken an interest in another man, at least not until tonight.

Two can play this game, you thought as you took your right hand up to Matt’s face. Gently touching it, you urged him to meet you halfway as you tilted your head upwards. He understood exactly what you wanted and met you in a sloppy drunk kiss. You could smell the faint of alcohol from his mouth as he kissed you and he tasted bitter. 

Mother fucker, was all Jungkook could think for a while, completely forgetting the girl in his arms. He stopped kissing Holly’s neck. He wanted to reach over and drag you away from him, but he never got the chance as the two of you were interrupted by one of Matt’s friends. They talked with each other for a brief moment before Matt whispered something in your ear, kissed your cheek and disappeared after his friend.

Once Matt left your side to check on one of his friends had gotten into a fight, you were left alone on the dancefloor. When you looked straight forward again and saw Holly still in Jungkook’s arms you decided this was it. There was no point in you staying, moping around, being alone, since Jungkook was your only real friend and the only one who wanted you here. Or at least, so you thought.

Walking through the crowd trying to find the exist while being slightly drunk in a house you had been to only once before proved to be more difficult than you thought. Eventually you made your way into a hallway and saw one door open, revealing a bathroom inside and decided to try and sober up. Drink some water from the tap or something, anything to get you sober enough to find your way out. 

As your hand reached the doorknob to close the door behind you, you were pushed further in. As you stood with your back pressed against the sink and looked up to see who had followed you, you were met with Jungkook’s deep brown eyes. Anger filled your body.

“Leaving your new girlfriend on the dancefloor I see.” Jealousy filling your body at the thought of him and Holly. Jungkook locked the door behind him and closed the distance between the two of you, standing now in front of you. You turned your face away when Jungkook tried to bring his hand up to caress your cheek. He looked at you with a pout.

"Baby..." He dragged out the ‘a’ as he took hold of your arms trying to bring you closer. He knew you were upset.

"You know you are the only one for me." You scoffed at his words. His charms were not working on you tonight. Still resisting his touch, you snarked back at him.

"Didn't look like that when Holly was down your throat." The image of them popping back into your head and leaving you with a bitter, sour taste. To be honest, you did not even know why you were so upset. Just that you did not like seeing Holly anywhere near Jungkook.

"Are you jealous?"

"No," you were quick to answer him. As you did his body language changed. It was like a switch had been flicked and as he looked down on you with desire, you started feeling hot. He towered above you, parting your legs with his body, standing in between them.

"Cause I was pretty fucking jealous when Matt was down yours." Before you even had a second to process what Jungkook said he had his lips moving with yours. Hungrily kissing you, making you breathless. His hands moving through your hair, grabbing it, tilting your head so your neck was exposed. His lips left yours and travelled downwards, kissing the outer corner of your lip, your jaw and lastly your neck where he started roaming around. 

Sucking, biting and licking, trying to find your sweet spot. You let out a deep moan once he did. He smiled, smelling the faint scent of the perfume you were wearing. Sweet, just like you, he thought to himself. You felt his bulge getting bigger against your thigh, his hands getting rougher, more impatient. 

A sudden loud bang on the door made the two of you freeze in your movements.

“Can you fuck somewhere else? Some of us have to use the bathroom.” Muttering ‘shit’ under your breath you suddenly realized the situation the two of you were in. Anyone could have seen the two of you getting into the bathroom, someone is guaranteed see the two of you leaving together. Your secret would be exposed. Seeing the worry on your face, Jungkook took his hand to caress your cheek, comforting you.

“Don’t worry, I’ll go first and buy you some time, okay?” You nodded and he followed through with his plan. Letting go of your face, taking a step backwards he smiled before he turned around to face the bathroom door. 

As he unlocked it, you took a deep breath, your head hanging low, eyes on the ground, trying to avoid the eyes of the people you were imagining were looking at you. Jungkook looked back at you once before opening the door and stepping out of the bathroom. He hated it, the secrecy of your relationship. How you almost looked ashamed of being with him. He felt like it was time for him to go home, he no longer had any thoughts on staying, even though all of his friends would probably look for him. 

A girl entered the bathroom and gave you a look that more or less said ‘get the fuck out’ and so you did. Looking around once, you stepped out of the bathroom and realized nobody was really looking at you, or judging you. Thank God. 

Finally, being able to breath again you once again tried to find your way out. On your quest to find the front door you stumbled upon Matt, who was very insisting on letting one of his friends drive you home as apparently, all of you were going to the same neighbourhood. Not being able to say no, you got in the car and that’s how you found your way home.

Once your head rested against your pillow, body laying down on your bed you could not help but think how differently this night could have ended. Jungkook could have been by your side, if only you would have talked to him. If only you were not so afraid of what people might think of you. If only… and with that on your mind you feel asleep.

 03 February 1992

“So… what are you planning on becoming?” Jungkook asked you as the two of you were walking, hand in hand on your way over to his house, skipping the last class. The teacher was probably just going to put on a movie any way since your school had an information day today where they brought up the different universities and options you had after school before lunch. 

Most of the teachers thought this would be going on for the whole day so skipping class did not seem too bad. Also, this meant you could hang out with Jungkook in public without worrying about anyone seeing the two of you since every one of your classmates were at school. What you wanted to become when you grow up… This was something you had already been thinking about for the last couple of years, looking forward to when you could finally leave this hell-town.

“Maybe… a boss of some sort?” At your answer Jungkook chuckled. Letting go of his hand you lightly slapped him, asking him ‘what?’.

“No, nothing. I think you are great at bossing people around, so it’ll suit you just fine!” Jungkook said with a smile on his face but you did not really believe his words. Taking hold of your hand again, Jungkook continued walking with you by his side. Despite his words, you were still feeling as if he was teasing you.

“You are just making fun of me…” Pouting and whining as you said it, trying to make Jungkook feel guilty, you quickly realized you succeeded when he stopped walking. Holding your hand, the both of you came to a halt. Jungkook’s gaze on you softened as you stood in front of him.

“Hey… I didn’t mean it like that. I really do feel like you would make a great boss.” Scoffing, you turned your head, letting go of his hand to cross your arms over your chest. With fondness Jungkook smiled, knowing you were not really angry with him. If you had, you would have already started walking away from him. Something he had picked up over the last couple of months. 

“You are compassionate, responsible, great at teaching and you do have a lot of patience. Isn’t that exactly what a good leader needs to have in order to have people look up to them? See them for guidance and trust them?” His words almost threw you off a bit. Jungkook rarely spoke to you this way but when he did, your heart skipped a beat every single time. No scratch that, nowadays it skipped a beat whenever he would just look at you. 

You could not help but smile and feel your cheeks getting redder as you slightly slapped him on his arm again. Embarrassed and not wanting him to see your reaction.

“What now?” He would ask you, amused with your reaction. Noticing the way your cheeks had turned a shade redder.

“Shut up, let’s go.” You told him as you started walking again. Wanting to get to his house as soon as possible. Shaking his head, Jungkook followed you. Taking your hand in his again. He smiled, as you did not fight him. Enjoying the warmth, you provided by his side.  

 04 March 1992

Jungkook was late. Over an hour had you waited for him to come over to your house and study like the two of you had agreed. He was falling behind, by a lot. He did not want you to know of course but as you looked for a hoodie in his drawer last week you found his grades. You did not mean to look at them but once you saw an F on several of them, you could not help but to ask Jungkook about it. He told you the truth, as always. 

He was failing because he could not study at home but because of you, he was not failing every class. The study sessions the two of you had helped him greatly and he was very thankful for your help. So, you decided the two of you should study more often so you could help him pass this term. Give him a chance to be able to study after high school. 

He was probably not taking this seriously, you thought and when you finally heard someone climbing up the garage outside your window. You knew it was him. Angrily, you crossed your arms and waited for him to get inside so you could scold him. His face was hanging low, his whole body slumped as he climbed into the window.

“An hour Jungkook? Honestly? Do you think I enjoy-” Stopping yourself mid sentence, as soon as you meet his gaze. His left eye was swollen and purple, his lip bleeding with a cut on the outer corner. Hair messy, clothes wet from the rain that started a while ago. Your eyes softened when your eyes met his tear-filled ones. Going over to him, you gently caressed his face. He tried avoiding eye contact with you.

“What happened?” You whispered and Jungkook suddenly put his lips on yours, wincing at the pain the cut in his lip provided. He was not in the mood to talk. Jungkook just wanted all his feelings to disappear, even if for only a moment. Taking your hands to his chest you gently pushed him away.

“Please tell me…” Jungkook cut you off before you could even finish your sentence.

“You are my distraction, aren’t you?” You nodded, confused at what Jungkook was trying to imply.

“Then fucking act like it.” His harsh words left a sour feeling inside your throat, but you tried to swallow it down as he kissed you again. Leaving you breathless as he pulled away to study your face for a minute, giving you a chance to say no. You knew you were in for a rough fuck but after a stressful day, it was exactly what you needed. As you pulled him down towards you, kissing him, Jungkook took this as a hint to continue. 

His rough hands on your body, undressing you as he backed you up against your bed. Pushing you down, you bounced around in your underwear before he placed himself on top of you momentarily before he got up again. Standing in front of you, in between your legs, he took off his shirt.

“Wha…” Your question was cut short as Jungkook placed his shirt around your eyes and tied it behind your head. Usually, he would use a tie to blindfold you but this time he had to be creative. 

“Be quiet and take what I’m willing to give you.” Manhandling you, Jungkook turned you roughly around. His hands on your hips, grabbing them upwards and placing you in the doggy position. His hands started roaming around your body, feeling your ass, kneading roughly your thighs before moving upwards towards your core. 

He touched you slightly over your clothed pussy and decided it was time for the fabric to go. Taking hold of your panties he ripped them apart. Squealing at the sudden sting the waistband of the panties hitting your sensitive skin, you felt exposed as the cold air of the room hit your core. 

“You can’t just-” your complaint about your new panties being ripped apart was cut short by Jungkook. 

“I can and I will. Now… I’ve told you to shut up and somehow you are still talking. Want me to stuff that dirty mouth with your panties hmm?” Shaking your head as you felt yourself getting wetter at the thought of Jungkook stuffing your mouth with your panties. A fantasy you have had for a while but did not have the courage to tell Jungkook about just yet. 

“No sir, I’ll be good,” you answer him, wanting to please him. 

“That’s my girl…” Jungkook whispered as he continued moving his fingers dangerously close to your hole before continuing, “now… Can I use you however I please and you’ll be a good girl and take?” Nodding at his question, wanting nothing more than to be his good girl, Jungkook entered one of his fingers in your pussy. You were not nearly wet enough as you needed to be for his cock, and he was going to change that. 

Whining, when he suddenly put in another finger. Stretching your unprepared pussy a little too much for your usual liking, but you were determined to take what Jungkook was willing to give you. Wanting to please him. If only he would pay attention to your clit. 

As if he could read your thoughts, Jungkook slightly brushed over your clit with his thumb which had you let out a low moan.

“Such a dirty slut, letting me use her however I want. I knew this about you ever since the first time I saw you at that party. Bet you let a lot of guys use you however they want, don’t you?” You chose not to answer him but someday you probably had to tell him the truth. There was really no one else but him. Twice had you tried sleeping with other guys and both were disappointments to say the least. Jungkook was even your first, but you would never tell him that. Afraid of how he would react.

As Jungkook continued fingering you, you could feel the pressure building but all the thoughts in your mind were distracting you. Clouding your pleasure and somehow you never reached the top like you usually would. So… you faked it. 

Not feeling like you could cum anyway and trying to avoid making Jungkook more upset, it seemed like the logical thing. Jungkook was pleased, thinking that he made you cum. You could hear him unzipping his pants and soon you felt the presence of the tip of his cock at your entrance. 

As he slowly entered you, you could feel the stretch slightly, but it was not as bad as you thought it would be. When he bottomed out, he stayed there to let you get used to it, waiting until you relaxed, before he started fucking you. Taking hold of your hips, pushing his cock in and out of your tight pussy, he moaned. You could not help but do the same, moaning whenever he reached your g-spot. 

It didn’t take him long to reach his high, he was not exactly holding back and trying to last longer. Thinking he had already made you cum. As Jungkook came with a finally deep thrust, body slumped over yours, he took a deep breath before pulling out. As he pulled out, you noticed how you could not feel any of his cum leaking out of your cunt. Did he not cum? 

As you took off his shirt that had been tied around your head. Acting as a blindfold, you turned your head around as you laid down on your side. You saw Jungkook removing a condom from his cock before tying it up and throwing it in the bin. His pants were still on, resting just below his hips. He pulled up his boxers and then his pants. He had not even taken off his pants this whole time while you had been lying naked in bed.

This gave you a weird feeling that you could not shake off. Something felt off. For some reason, he had used a condom tonight when the two of you had been going without one for more than half a year now, both getting tested beforehand. Making sure it was safe as you started taking birth control pills so the two of you could do it safely without a condom. He was probably seeing other girls again, you thought as you remembered Jungkook making out with Holly. Yeah, that was probably it.

“You’ll be alright yeah?” Your thoughts were interrupted by Jungkook who was now putting your blanket over your naked body as he took his shirt from your hand, his eyes searching for yours as he tried to make eye contact with you.

“Yeah.” You would answer him, not really sure what he was asking.

“Good. I’ll see you around.” Jungkook said before giving a kiss to your forehead. As he stood up, he turned around and went to your window. Was he really leaving? Your question was quickly answered as Jungkook threw his leg on the other side of your window and proceeded to climb out. 

This was not like him, you thought. Nowadays, he usually stays the night. Maybe this was a one-time thing? At least, you hoped it was as your heart felt heavy that night. Thoughts filled with worry for him. Was he going home to his father? God, you hoped he was going to his friends or something, but mostly you would have hoped he would have stayed. 

A single tear left your eyes as you got up to get dressed in your pyjamas to get ready to bed. What ever had happened today, you hoped would never happen again.

That night, you kept your window slightly ajar the whole night. Hoping Jungkook would come back. When you woke up the next morning in bed alone, you realized that was not the case. You were not his girlfriend. He was not your boyfriend. What were you even thinking right now? 

Annoyed with yourself, you put on your jogging shoes to try and go for a run. To clear your head. At first, it worked. For a little while. Until you started to worry again, and you almost found yourself running over to his house. No, if he wanted to talk, he would have come to you. You thought as you made your way back home. Hoping he would talk to you one day. Hoping he would explain.

 31 March 1992

You had spent all morning waiting for the mailman to come by your house. Hoping he would carry your college acceptance letter. Anxiously, you had been walking around, cleaning, trying anything to get your mind off it but nothing was working. Your mother tried to assure you, saying any college would be lucky to have you. You were above average, sure, but not too outstanding if you asked yourself. 

Jungkook, on the other hand. He would probably say the same as my mom, you thought. The two of you had not talked much recently. It seemed as if Jungkook was busy hanging out with his friends every day, and the time he had for you was minimal. 

You missed him, although, you would never admit it. So, while you were waiting, you decided to write down your thoughts and hide them in your box of confessions. Here were all the letters and things you wanted to say to people, but probably never would. 

Maybe, getting it all down on paper would help as usual, but this time it left you writing with no end. Emotions and thoughts that were never ending. It felt like you could almost write a book to Jungkook. How mad you were at him when he kissed Holly. How sad you were the first time he left you alone in bed. How happy you felt when he brought you that scrunchie. It was a mess indeed, but at least you were getting it out somewhere when you could not talk to anyone about it. Still afraid people would judge. Still afraid people might talk if they knew what was going on between the two of you.  

Jungkook missed you terribly, but he thought it was for the best. He had completely fallen for you. Head over heels and he was screwed. You would never want him as anything more than a fuck buddy, he thought. So that is how he decided to treat you. 

Go back to the beginning of your relationship, no sleepovers. No sweet talking. No studying together. Just sex. That worked most of the time, except for the times Jungkook felt guilty every time you asked him to stay. It made him second guess his choice every time. Thinking, maybe… just maybe… you had feelings for him too. 

Those thoughts would quickly disappear as whenever the two of you locked eyes out in public, yours would turn away. You did not want to be seen with him, he had to remind himself. With that in mind, Jungkook had made his choice to stay away from you. No matter how hard it was.

Around an hour later, you finally held your college application letter in your hand. Nervously you opened it. Reading though it, you realized. You were accepted. You got into your first choice even. 

Squealing, you could not wait to tell Jungkook. Oh… right… The smile on your face quickly turned to a frown when you remembered how distant he had been with you lately. He probably did not care, you tried to remind yourself. The two of you were merely fuck buddies after all. 

With that in mind, you tried to distract yourself from the thoughts of Jungkook, by showing the letter to your mom. Hugging her tightly as she told you how proud she was of you. Somehow, she was not the person you wanted to make the proudest anymore. Somehow, that was Jungkook and as you realized it, you were terrified. You had fallen in love with Jeon Jungkook.

 18 April 1992

With a lump in your throat and your vision blurred from the tears that escape your eyes, you hesitantly walk up towards Jungkook’s house. What was he even supposed to do? Why did you even think of going to him in the first place? After all, the two of you had not lately talked at all. He had been distant for a while now, but lately, you did not even talk with each other. It was like, he came over to your house, the two of you had sex and then he left. Nothing more, nothing less.

Today, you and the girls had all gathered at Tiffany’s house to hang out and start planning what dresses you would be buying for prom. It should have been fun, considering you actually looked forward to prom, but all your excitement was flushed down the drain as soon as the girls started talking about your body. 

Who you should go with or why you should even bother to go, when no guy had shown any interest in you so far. You got out of there as quickly as possible to get some air, but somehow your thoughts drifted to Jungkook and your legs started moving towards his house. Should you even knock? What if his father is home? With shaking hands, you knocked lightly on his door and soon enough you heard footsteps approaching the door.

As Jungkook opened the door he found you, teary eyes looking down on the ground, your trembling lip caught between your teeth and hands fiddling at the seam of your shirt. The smile he had on his lips when he opened the door and saw you quickly disappeared as he noticed your state. Walking outside, he closed the door behind him so his friends would not hear your conversation, respecting your privacy.

“Hey,” he spoke softly, and you looked up at him, meeting his eyes. He never expected you to show up at his doorstep like this. Especially not after how distant he had been towards you lately. Still… he was somehow happy that you had come to him.

“What’s wrong?” You shrugged, not really knowing what to say but Jungkook was patient. Waiting for you to collect your thoughts and talk to him.

“I don’t really know, the girls started talking about prom and how I’m never going to find a date because…” Your trembling voice gave out as you started sobbing. Jungkook wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in tightly against his body. Your head against his chest as you cried into his hoodie. He truly felt like home, his scent and warmth bringing you comfort.

“Shh…” Jungkook whispered as he caressed your back and stroked your hair.

“You know better than anyone that most things that come out of their mouths is utter bullshit.” He was right, but you could not help but to feel your heart sink every time you thought about what they had said to you.

“Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt,” you mumbled into his chest and he kissed your hair. Letting out a heavy breath, you finally felt like you could breathe again.

“I know, I know.” Jungkook reassured you. Letting out a sigh as Jungkook took a step back, releasing you from his embrace, you wanted to complain. Wanting him to comfort you more, but he was quick to bring one of his hands up to your face and wipe away your tears. Tilting your head up by taking hold of your chin so your eyes would meet.

“Want to hang out with me and boys for a while and once they leave, we can talk?” He suggested and you quickly shook your head. The last thing you wanted was to bother him in anyway. He was not your boyfriend. He had no obligation to take care of you.

“I really don’t want to intrude.” As soon as your answer left your mouth, Jungkook was quick to respond.

“You wouldn’t” That was all it took to reassure you and with a beating heart you quietly muttered an ‘okay’ and Jungkook smiled.

“Follow me.” Intertwining his hand with yours he opened the door and walked in with you right behind him. The boys that sat on the couch all got quiet as they turned their heads to see you and Jungkook standing in the hallway. They all recognized you quickly, one of the plastics, one of the wealthy girls in town. 

You, on the other hand, only recognized Taehyung and not the other two boys that were sitting in the living room. Taehyung was often seen beside Jungkook at school and Jungkook often talked about him with you, saying you would love him if you got to know him. Guess this was your chance.

“Guys, this is ‘____’, she’s staying with us tonight” Jungkook announced and truth to be told, you could not really read their faces at all. Staring at them as they stared back at you, you had never felt more out of place. The plastics somehow felt more normal. Never did you think you would ever have that thought. 

You were brought out of your trance as Jungkook tugged on your hand, dragging you towards the couch. Following him, he sat down on the empty couch, next to the one where Taehyung and the other two boys sat. Sitting down next to him you awkwardly smiled at the boys and they smiled a sceptical smile back at you, not really sure probably on how to react. Never had they once seen Jungkook take any girl home. 

On the table in front of you were beer bottles and tv-game controllers. As you looked over on the tv you saw that they were playing some sort of video game. Jungkook smiled as he observed you.

“It’s Super Mario, Jimin got it last week. Probably the best game out there on Super Nintendo” He explained to you and one of the boys, the one on the far right spoke up.

“It’s really fun, you should try it!” He exclaimed and you smiled shaking your head, declining his offer.

“Oh! I’m Jimin by the way, this is Hoseok and that’s Taehyung.” Jimin said as he pointed at the other two boys sitting on his couch. Once the boys started playing their game you started to feel more at ease. More comfortable as you started leaning towards Jungkook on the couch, bringing your feet up to rest on the couch as well. As you changed position, Jungkook could not help but want you even closer.

“Come here.” Confused, you looked to your right to see that Jungkook had parted his legs, encouraging you to sit in between them. Looking over at the boys on the other couch you saw that they were fully immersed in the game. Why not? You thought and settled between his legs. Jungkook wrapped his body around you as your back rested against his chest. For the next round the controller was thrown to Jungkook and he bent down to whisper in your ear.

“Imma win this one for you baby.” You felt goosebumps all over your body, heart skipping a beat. What the girls had said earlier to you was long forgotten as you sat in here in Jungkook’s embrace. He ended up winning the race and for the next one, he showed you how to play. How he managed to win despite having his focus on showing you all the controls was beyond you. 

The game after that you were the one playing against Jimin. Jungkook showed you how to change character and you chose Peach. He probably went easy on you since you won, nothing he would admit though. Jungkook was proud, happy and content. You were getting along with his friends.

You could not help but to think of the night not too long ago, when Jungkook had showed up to your house, beaten. There was no doubt it was his father who had abused him, but you never asked. Whatever was between the two of you had felt different after that. 

He had always seeked your comfort before and you his as you did today, but something had always felt off after that. As if his trust in you was broken. Not entirely, but enough to wonder why he never felt as if he could just talk to you about it. Why he had stopped talking to you almost entirely. Also, it was not the last time Jungkook came to you for comfort like that. Each time, leaving you a little hollower than the time before. Remembering your place in his life. His fuck buddy. Merely someone to take his mind off things for a while.

The rest of the night was spent playing video games, staying up way too late and lastly with you falling asleep in Jungkook’s arms. If only every night could be spent like this, you thought. If the two of you could somehow talk about the two of you. What you were to one another. By now, you were sure you loved him. Somehow you could never allow yourself to completely fall for him, scared he does not feel the same way. Scared that the feelings you were feeling were one sided. 

They probably were, you thought, remembering the way he spoke to you that night. Saying you are his distraction and nothing more. Remembering when he made out with Holly at the party instead of hanging out with you when he had begged you to come. Something had felt off after all of that. Remembering that he had barely spoken to you these last few weeks. Today, you had fallen asleep in his arms, pretending it was all fine. Wanting it so badly to be fine. Not trying to think too much about it, when lately it was all that had been on your mind. If only you could tell him your thoughts. If only.

 29 May 1992

You look over the schoolyard as you and the plastics sat by one of the outside lunch tables, eyes glued on Jungkook as he played basketball with his friends. Things have been different lately. Jungkook had wanted to spend more time with you but this time… you had been distant. 

The two of you had not had sex together in over two weeks now. Your mind filled with worry, anxiety and stress. As you got your acceptance letter, you quickly tried to find your own apartment in New York. In your favour, your aunt had a friend that was going away for a year to study abroad. Needing someone to take care of her apartment in the meantime. 

You had signed the contract a few days ago. You would be moving in a few days after school had ended. Everything was happening so fast, too fast. Therefore, you prioritised yourself. Spending as much time planning and figuring this out in order to ease your mind. Of course, you wanted to see Jungkook, but you knew that would no longer be possible once you moved. 

So, you distanced yourself from him. Tried to become used to not seeing him. It was mostly going well. Well, that was until the two of you locked eyes and he shot you a smile before continuing to play with his friends again. You had smiled back at him, loving the warm feeling inside your body whenever his attention was on you. Fuck… this was not going to be easy, you thought.

 14 June 1992

Jungkook was happy, school was over. He had passed his exams, he could actually come with you, wherever you were going to study. Jungkook had not told you this yet, but he was hoping he could come with you, get away from his father. He wanted to tell you this today so the two of you could figure it out over the summer. Maybe... He could probably work for a year or two. Maybe save enough money for college one day, he thought. He remembered how you almost glowed when you talked about your dreams. Your dream to work for a big company one day. So, he worked his ass off. Studying wherever he had the time so he would pass his exams, so he had a chance at college one day. Anything to make you proud. Anything to be with you.

As he brushed his teeth, he could not help but to imagine your reaction when he told you that he would be able to come with you. He knew you were anxious about leaving but the two of you knew it was for the best. Leave this small town and find new friends, family and a place to call your own. A place that could be potentially a home for the two of you. He was certain he would confess to you. His love, he was sure, was endless for you. A never stopping force that he could not deny any longer. Today he would tell you. Of that, he was sure.

When he saw you on the park bench his smile faded. You were crying, hands fiddling with your shirt, something you did when you were nervous. Eyes looking towards the ground. Jungkook imagined this was all because you thought he would not be able to come with you. That you had to say goodbye to him, as you left for college.

“Hey.” He spoke softly once he reached you and your eyes looked up to meet his.

“Hey…” You whispered back, and he put out his arms to pull you into his embrace, but you refused. Putting your arms in front of you, stopping his body from wrapping itself around yours. Jungkook looked confused letting his arms fall to his side again.

“What’s wrong?” He asked and you could barely look at him.

“I can’t.” Puzzled he looked at you, trying to read your face.

“What do you mean?” Yeah what did you actually mean. You had been thinking about how to tell him for the last couple of days but now when the day had come, no words formed in your mouth. You knew by now that you loved him, but you also knew he could not come with you. You had to end it here, for your own sake and his. The two of you could not make it work long distance. For God’s sake, you were not even a couple, you thought.

“What do you mean you can’t?” Jungkook asked again when no answer came out of you. Whimpering, lip trembling, breathing unsteady you said it.

“I can’t be with you.” Jungkook was quiet. It felt as if all the air in his lungs had left him. His chest empty, drained of all the happiness that had filled his body earlier on. He did not know how to react. You could not even look at him, you knew if you did you would change your mind. For him, you probably would. The desire to be able to get out of the town that was the source of your unhappiness was bigger than your desire to be with him, not by much, but enough. You knew if you did not break up with Jungkook you would stay here. Stay and regret the decision your whole life. 

The silence was killing you. You had said what you needed to say. So, you decided it was time to leave. As you turned your heel to walk away from Jungkook he spoke, making you halt your movements.

“Why?” His question raised a number of thoughts in your mind, but before you had the chance to answer him, he continued. Clenching his jaw to keep the tears that had been forming in his eyes at bay.

“Was it something I did?” No, you wanted to tell him. You wanted to tell him that he made you feel loved like no one ever had before. You wanted to tell him the scrunchie that he got you was the most precious gift you had ever gotten. 

You wanted to tell him, no one ever was as honest as he was with you and that he was the only one who never once doubted you. Never made you feel insecure, made you feel as if you could not be yourself or made you feel like your feelings and thoughts were not valid. You wanted to tell him he made you whole, as if you had been searching for something your whole life and finally you had found it. None of that came out of your mouth though.

“I can’t stand watching you mess around with other girls.” The thought of him and Holly at the back of your head. Jungkook with someone else that was not you, someone that probably would treat him better. Treat him the way he deserved to be treated. Someone that just was not you. 

Besides… How would even things work if he could come with you? He was still one of the biggest players in the school. Would he be able to drop all of that for you or would you stay worried the entire time like you had now? Worried that all you were to him was a distraction even though deep down you knew you were something more than that. At least you hoped so.

All Jungkook could think about was that you probably had feelings for him too. Why else would you otherwise not be able to stand seeing him with other girls? He felt hope. 

“I’ll stop.” Jungkook choked out, his voice quiet, lip trembling as the first tear escaped his eyes as yours meet his.

“I promise.” He continued. What he wanted to tell though was that he had not messed around with anyone ever since you got jealous at that party, ever since he saw you in someone else’s arms. After that, it all felt wrong to him. Especially since all he wanted was you.

“I have to focus on myself, I need some time.” You whispered as Jungkook stepped closer. When you did not move away, he brought his hands to your face, holding it carefully as if you would break otherwise. He rested his forehead against yours and took a deep breath.

“I’ll wait.” Jungkook said truthfully, he would wait for as long as it would take for you to come back to him. You did not want that. You wanted better for him. Someone, who could openly say they were in a relationship, without thinking of others. Show him the love he deserved without being afraid of how other people may react. 

Sobbing with your eyes closed you tried to remember what his scent was like, the one that gave you a feeling of home when you breathed it in. You wanted to remember it, forever if you could. This close you could smell it, if only you could stay here forever, but you could not.

Jungkook let his fingers run through your hair and back to your cheek, feeling the softness of your skin, the roughness of your hair telling him you had not brushed your hair today, yet, you looked stunning as ever. He had to tell you what he thought, he had to let you know. Had to let you know you were his home, his safe place, his sanctuary. You were a breeze on a hot summer day, refreshing, well needed and something he craved.

You placed your hands on top of his, taking them in yours. As you took a step back you opened your eyes, looking up at him. Jungkook opened his as well, swallowing hard as he choked on the tears that had started to escape his eyes. You could never do this to him again, never see him again like this, he did not deserve it you thought.

“I don’t want you to. I want you to let me go.” As the words left your mouth, Jungkook did so. His hands left yours and he stepped back. Maybe you did not feel the same way as him, he thought. Maybe something had happened, and you needed some time. Maybe… there was still a chance for the two of you to make it. Finally, be together. 

With this little hope Jungkook had let you go of his grasp. As he opened his eyes and met yours, he realized that was not the truth. The truth was this was it. Your mouth turned into a painful smile as tears left your eyes and you spoke your last words to him.

“Thank you.” He never got the chance to ask you for what or to thank you back as you turned around and left him on the street. He wanted to say thank you back. For all the times you had been there for him. When he did not know how to express himself, never pushing him to explain. Just being there for him whenever he needed someone. Whenever he needed you.

Jungkook could think of anything else the next couple of hours, his body limp, crying into Taehyung’s chest. Thinking about all the times he probably screwed up, leading to you breaking up with him. Was it even a breakup if you never officially dated? It sure as hell felt like it at least. 

He had to see you one last time, he had to change your mind. He needed to tell you how he felt. How much you meant to him. How badly he wanted the two of you together, wherever and whenever that would be. As long as you heard him out… maybe… just maybe… he had a chance at winning you back. Wiping away his tears he told Taehyung he would be back soon, that he had to see you one last time and with that he left his house, on his way to yours. 

As he reached the door and knocked, your mother opened the door.

“Hi, is there anything I could help you with?” She answered and Jungkook smiled at her through the pain and hollowness he was feeling. Your mother recognized his face, but she could not quite place it anywhere. 

“Yeah, is ‘___’ home?” He asked and your mother shook her head.

“I’m afraid not, she left for college an hour ago” Jungkook nodded at your mother and turned around, walking down your doorstep he let out a broken cry. This was it. You were really gone. You wanted nothing to do with him. That was probably why you had been away the last couple of days. You had probably been moving into your new place, Jungkook thought. 

He walked for hours around the town with these thoughts until Hoseok found him sitting on a bench by the river. Jungkook still barely remembers what Hoseok had told him that day. All he remembers is the hollow feeling in his chest, his nose running, eyes swollen, barely being able to breath. Consumed by the sadness you had left with your words, the sadness that he thought would never end. A hole in his soul he did not believe could ever be filled again. 

His first and only love… gone, and there was nothing he could do about it. If he only knew you felt the same, if he only knew how much you loved him too. Maybe he would have confessed sooner, maybe you would have if you would have known. Maybe… this would not have been the end of your first love. 

#bangtanhq #smutcentralnet #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #bts smut #bts x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook one shot #jungkook fic #bts fanfic #bts fic #fic; right here

[risualto]

Okay, I thought I was over the whole being-blamed-for-my-medical-problems thing, but it’s been like 24 hours, and I’m still thinking about it, so I’ve come to the conclusion that I am not over it, and I want to talk about it.

Also, please know that if the anon who sent that ask is reading this, I am not upset at you and I love you and do not want you to go away.  I’m not angry, and this is not a rant against you. I know you weren’t trying to be patronizing and that you wanted to express support for my recovery, so I can’t be mad at you.

That said, I still had a knee-jerk reaction that made me want to explain myself.

It’s really important to me that I express that it hurt me--deeper than I expected, to be fair, because I’m usually a very calm person and stuff like this usually rolls off my back--to be feel even for a second like I was being told that if only I’d been more careful, if only I rested more, this wouldn’t have happened to me.  I can’t control any of this.  If I could, I would already be better.

I was born with a hole in my heart (a literal hole in the muscle, a mumur) and lungs that struggled to function.  I’ve lived my whole life with asthma and (minus the first 19 months) type 1 diabetes.  I have chronic low blood pressure due to my genetics, which developed into fainting syncope.  I have lived my whole life sick.  Not a single day of my life have I been completely “healthy.”  Every time I stand up from a chair, every time I go outside in the humidity, every time I exercise, every time I eat, I have to think about the consequences of my actions and how my health is affected.  So much of my mental energy is expended taking care of myself so that I can keep going through my day like a functional human, so that my disabilities don’t stop me from living life the way I want to and doing the things I love.  I know better than anyone how much my body can take, how never to ignore the signs of things going wrong because it will only get worse later if it’s not dealt with now.  

I had so many teachers as a kid think I was making up excuses to stay home (like my parents would let me, even) because I knew that if I pushed through what felt like a minor cough, I might end up unable to breathe without help for the next three days.  I knew if I toughed out some shaky hands and hot flashes during a math test, it could end with me literally comatose on the floor.

I am not a reckless person.  I never have been.  In fact, my cowardice is one of my defining traits, as much as I hate it.  I rarely, rarely injure myself even on things like slamming doors or paper cuts.

And now I’m being told that I should have been more careful?  That if I rested more, I wouldn’t have had to give up my writing, my music, my video games, my crochet, my conversations with friends, for 8 months?

Sometimes, terrible things happen that set you back, and they are not your fault.  I don’t know if that anon needs to hear this, too, because I know how often we blame victims for their own circumstances in this culture, and I know how often complaints of discomfort are dismissed as something we need to handle ourselves, without help--but it’s not your fault.  It’s not my fault.  It’s not anyone’s fault.  All I can do now is respond to the condition as best I can.

Self-care and caution are vital to survival, of course.  But sometimes, no matter how good you are at them, it’s not enough, because the world is bigger and more mysterious and more uncaring than anyone likes to admit.  Sometimes, people are hurt despite their best efforts, people get sick in the best situations.  (People die in the best moments of their lives.)  It’s tragic, but if you can accept that, let go of the guilt, then you can devote your energy properly to getting better in the end.

That’s what I’m doing.  That’s what I hope the people around me are capable of.

#long post #risurants #i'm sorry if this is incomprehensible #i wrote it in pieces bc of the pain #and i'm sorry if i'm being too aggressive #i don't mean to insult or blame anyone #i just wanted to vent my feelings #bc i hate this mentality of 'if you're ill/disabled it's bc you did something wrong' #and i don't ever want anyone #ANYONE #to be exposed to it #... #i hate that i'm probably going to lose that anon over this #i'm sorry

[ollie-olliebaby]

Outside pt 2

~Three Weeks later~   

Ollie’s hands shook slightly as they stood outside the diner that was supposedly their mothers place of work. This was it. This was the moment they had always waited for. The town that their mother lived in was quaint, didn’t seem like a whole lot of people populated it. Something about the way people seemed to smile at each as they passed made the place feel, homey. Looking through the front window of the old diner, Ollie could see her. There she was a mere 10 ft away. Ollie had their hair, they could definitely tell that now, it too sat in a big curly mess on top of her head. Most of which, from the looks of it, was being contained by a very old looking headband.

“Come on Ollie, it’s now or never.” They murmured, taking in another deep breath before walking into the establishment.

“Find a seat anywhere, I’ll be right with you!” She called out to Ollie, unknowing that their own child was about to be served next. Finding a spot near a window, rather close to the door in case they needed to make a quick exit, Ollie pulled out the few items they had been left with and set them on the table. The old puffin, the baby blanket and their necklace. 

“How you doin’ sugar, what can I get for you?” The woman asked before looking up into a set of eyes that looked eerily like her own. Brow furrowing, her gaze went down to the items in front of the young person, her gaze quickly attached to the puffin. A toy she’d initially made for one of her other children, but he had wanted to give it to the new baby. “Can I help you with something?” She asked again. 

Ollie had yet to let a word come out of their mouth. Too caught up in the fact that they were looking at their mother. “I uh..yes, um..” Pulling the photo and portion of the letter that had her info on it, Ollie double checked the name before speaking. “Is your name, Raina Walt?” They mused. 

“Yes. I am. Who are you?” She asked again, starting to get nervous about where this was going. 

“Uh, my name is Ollie Malo. Well, I guess Ollie Arendelle now, since I got adopted.” They said the last statement with pride, before shrinking back into themselves again. “Uh, I’m your…” Clearing their throat they couldn’t bring themselves to say the words. You’re daughter. They weren’t really their daughter, that part of their life was long since gone. “I’m..I’m your…” Ollie stammered once again. “I’m your child.”

Raina took in a deep breath, hands going to her hips. “You’re the child I left outside that church twenty some odd years ago.” She corrected. “I had named you Harmony, not Ollie.” Scoffing at them, they reached down to pick up the stuffed puffin on the table. “I’d given this to my son. Who gave it to you the day you were born. I tried to give it back to him, but he wouldn’t have it. Kept saying: ‘Little sister needs something to keep them safe.’” Disregarding the toy, she dropped it back on the table, hands on her waist again she started at Ollie. 

“I don’t have any money for you, if that’s what you’re here for. I left you there for a reason. So why come and find me?” Raina wasn’t the type to sugar coat things. She was always very blunt, and had been trying to exercise restraint when it came to this. Perhaps this would have been the time to use the steps she’d learned in her anger management class or during her therapy. But, no. Raina didn’t want to deal with this, so the more blunt she could be, the better. 

Ollie simply stared at the woman before them. Almost shell shocked by how…brash she was. “B-but you’re my mom..” Ollie whispered, their heart breaking the longer they sat there. “You left a baby, at a church in the cold with only this stuff on them.” They said pushing the items forward. “Why did you do it?” They asked. 

Raina looked down at the blanket and the toy, shaking her head. The emotions that were starting to build in her chest were the exact reason she didn’t want to ever have this interaction. She should have hidden her tracks better, or even just changed her name. But no, in the end she still would have been found. “I did it..” She started out, her eyes now burning with an anger and resentment toward herself, toward the man that was Ollie’s father and a little bit towards Ollie.

 “….because I didn’t want you. I already had two children that I wanted, I didn’t want a third. Your father…god your father was a playboy, wanted one thing and one thing only and he got it, then he left. Did you find him too? Are you hunting us down so that you can try and get something? Well I don’t have anything for you. I didn’t back then and I certainly don’t now.” Though her tones were hushed, they were hurried and made with the intention of hurt.

Leaning on the table, Raina trained her eyes on Ollie’s. She hated that she could see herself looking back. That she could see her other kids a bit in Ollie. But, Raina didn’t have the time for this. Ollie wasn’t hers, and she needed to make that clear. “Now. I want you to clean up this mess and leave. I have the right to serve who I do and don’t want to, and I do not want to serve you.” She spat.

Seeing that her words had the effect that she’d wanted on the child, Raina took in a deep breath. “I will give you a moment, but I want you out of here in the next five minutes, or I’m calling the police. Don’t ever, try and contact me again. And don’t even think about reaching out to my children. They don’t remember you and I’d like to keep it that way.” Fixing her apron, Raina stood back to her full height and left Ollie in their booth. 

Ollie had had their fair share of rejection to last a life time. Being turned down for adoption chances, being moved from foster home to foster home, so one would believe, getting rejected shouldn’t sting anymore. In the case of this moment in time, they would be right. Ollie sat stone still as they listened to Raina go on and on about how they weren’t wanted. How having them around would have ruined Raina’s already seemingly perfect life. Ollie had imagined something like this would happen. Unfortunately, they underestimated how much it would hurt. 

Packing up their things, Ollie slowly stood from the booth. Hands at their side, they kept their gaze down on the ground as they walked to the door. Pausing for a moment, they turned to look back at Raina. “In the file that they gave me on you, it had my birth certificate my real one, so I finally known when I was born instead making it the day they found me.” They started.

“And you say you named me Harmony. Well, Harmony is long gone. Has been dead for years. My name, is Ollie Bylur Mallo. And despite your best efforts. I’m still here.” With that, turning on their heel, Ollie left the diner. Walking out to their car, Ollie took a brief pause. They wouldn’t cry, at least not here. They wouldn’t give that woman the satisfaction. Looking down at the items in their hands, there was an overwhelming sense of dread. A sense that the safety net that these items had created over the years had finally broken through. The stuffed puffin and baby blanket in their hands, felt like a lead weight. Taking one last look at them, Ollie dropped the items into the nearest trash bin. 

Finally, Ollie had done the one thing they had wanted in life. To find their mother. They had been told many a time, this wasn’t going to be the fairy tale ending that they wanted. Perhaps things were as black and white as they looked on paper. But, Ollie being who they are, just couldn’t except that. So, with a heavy heart, Ollie made their way to their car and back home. 

They came here looking for answers, and answers they found. Even if it managed to shatter their heart into pieces. 

#muse #drabble #this one hurt a lot #tw dead name mention #tw abandonment