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straighttohellbuddy · 3 years

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you make me hate this city {Dream}

Summary: They/Them. A series of moments. Any publicity is good publicity, right? Well accidentally falling into beef with arguably the most popular Minecraft streamer in recent memory certainly keeps you relevant. But as time goes on, you realise more and more that staying relevant isn't the most important thing in the world.

A/N: 3009 words. i gotta stop adding 'i dont know what this is' to my authors notes but also i don't know what this is. i was listening to Happier Than Ever, but also OverHeated has better vibes for this fic. im actually incredibly happy with this one, like deadass a fan of my own wording lmfao. please let me know what you think. also i wrote this on my phone and welcome to 3.30am ive lost all control of my life.

Warnings: choking imagery but nothing actually serious.

Citrus Scale: 🧡 ORANGE 🧡

You blew up by accident, but isn't that the way it always seems to go these days?

---

"Wait, who? Dream, no I don't know who that is," you laugh dismissively, "contrary to popular belief, I don't know every online personality in Florida; it's a big place... why would I know a Minecraft youtuber? That's the kind of content that gets millions of subscribers on YouTube now? I thought we moved passed that."

In hindsight, it was kind of a shitty thing to say, and despite the fact that you'd been thinking of what you knew of the gaming community in the past few years, it still came off as arrogant. Usually you weren't one to portray yourself as arrogant online, you'd come to be known as something of a Zeitgeist of online society, your mind had been elsewhere at the time. You didn't know Dream, didn't realise he was much bigger than you'd been assuming, at least not until you'd woken up to his reply on twitter.

It had been deleted before you'd even properly seen it, probably only minutes after he'd posted it, but there were screenshots aplenty.

[incredibly bold words coming from a tiktok influencer 🙄🤡]

Your notifications were a bloodbath.

---

Despite your private apology, acknowledging what you'd said was out of line considering your own line of work, and his apology in response, admitting that he should have known better considering how rabid he knew his fans could get, there appears to be some hostility between the two of you. Publicly, that is.

It was all for show, though that was just between the two of you. The peanut gallery that was your audience paid good money for a fight like this, not that you'd ever voice that thought out loud. Considering how far apart your demographics were, and the size of your respective audiences, the way you two would interact kept you both relevant. Whether they were intrigued about the person antagonising their 'fav', or looking to clown on them, you both got a nice boost in numbers for each scathing interaction you'd shared online.

The people you had aligned yourself with socially ate it up too.

But something about their approval left a sour taste in the back of your mouth.

---

"It feels disingenuous," you huffed over a call with Dream, right after he'd posted a new Manhunt video to his main channel, "its a good video," you grumble.

"So don't send the tweet," he yawned, "or do; don't not tweet it if it's for my sake, I know you actually like my videos thats all that matters."

You press your lips together but hit send on [imagine posting essentially the same video 8 times,,, couldn't be me].

"You know I do actually think you're creative, right?" You tried to assure him.

"I know," and his voice is fond.

---

The city is fucking suffocating you and everyone's watching.

You feel like you'll be publicly hung for being genuine; getting famous on TikTok of all platforms has always felt a bit like that to you, but it didn't start getting constricting until all you want is to love and support creators outside of your bubble, outside of your shared demographic. The heat of early Summer is in your lungs, is choking you from the inside out.

And there have been times where you've considered running, considered never logging in again, driving until you're at a gas station two states over and gasping for air in a town where the people don't recognise you. You could stay there, if you really wanted, you could live in quiet obscurity if your heart really desired it. But it's its own kind of disingenuous.

[what if i drive until my wheels give out and then just stay there forever?]

[do you want company?] His answering text surprises you, and suddenly you can feel your heart beating in your throat. You ask if he's serious. He tells you he needs to get out of the city for a bit, even a few hours.

There's too many eyes in the city. On the road there's just his.

He's in your passenger seat and you're in your head wondering if this a fever dream, a mirage from the steadily growing summer heat. Maybe if you look directly at him, he'll disappear, so you don't, just incase. He opens the window, breeze catching in his fingers.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see him looking at you for a moment. Part of you wants to thank him for his company; this is the first time when you've wanted to run, when you've actually had a reason to come back. Don't think too hard about that.

You want to thank him for the company as there comes a lul in the conversation, but the wind rushing past you steals your nerve. You stay quiet, and turn up the radio.

The afternoon is growing late. Soon, you will head back. For him.

---

So you lay on his bed on your back, staring up at the ceiling, dead silent as you hear him talking and laughing with his friends as he streams. If you make a noise, your cover will be blown, you'll ruin this good thing, this ruse. The evening is sticky hot but the faint breeze is sweet. Looking over, you take a moment to admire his profile, aglow in the light of his monitor, beautiful in the warm haze of the night. Something twists in your gut, and you look away quickly, a little overwhelmed with the moment. So you stare at his bedroom ceiling, laying atop his covers, listening to him laugh, and you stay quiet.

---

He likes several tweets about the latest rumour about you; apparently you're an industry plant. No-one is quite sure which industry, but they're sure you're a plant. One of your stan accounts posts a screenshot of the tweets he likes, commenting [those in glass houses 🙄🙄] which you like. It's routine. It's a game. That night, the two of you spend an hour driving around as the sun sets, windows down and music blaring; your grip on the steering wheel is tight and his hand is on your thigh. You don't talk about what happens online. You don't talk about a lot of things. The light from the sunset is flattering for you both; people would say you're pretty together, picture perfect together, but no-one's allowed to know.

---

You attend parties, dressed to the nines, and you send him a photo from your bedroom before the night even begins. His response is sweet, but he doesn't dare interact when you post photos online a little while later.

[wish you were here] you send from the party as the fake laughter and constant camera flashes begin to grate on your nerves, [nothing feels real]. And after waiting a few minutes and getting no response, you put your phone back in your bag, plastering a grin on your face. Smile for the camera, its what you do best, it's how you got here.

When you feel your phone buzz, when you see he's simply offered an alternative, for you to come over and spend the rest of the night with him, you give your first genuine smile in hours. But someone catches it in the back of a photo, or perhaps a video on an Instagram story, maybe both, and everyone wants to know what had you smiling so brightly, why you'd made such a quick escape from the party after.

[only smile I've seen them give without dead shark eyes] Dream himself quote retweets someone's screenshot, and your lip curls in distaste at that. It's business, but it hits too close to home. You want to reassure him that he makes you happy, but it feels too honest, too raw. So you bite your tongue, keep quiet, give a snarky response online with your head in his lap.

---

"No I don't have thoughts about Mask -" your lip curls derisively. You've been listening to it on repeat. "What makes you think I spend my time thinking about Florida Man?" He'd think it was ironic, think it was amusing; you'd hear it before it had been released, sitting on the end of his bed, chin propped up on your hand as you beamed at him. He seemed pretty nonchalant as he'd asked you what you'd thought, but as you'd given a gentle, adoring sigh that spoke volumes on its own, you'd seen the way his posture had relaxed, the proud little smile he'd turned back to his monitor to hide.

"Everyone's a musician these days I guess," faced with the invasive reporter, you rolled your eyes.

---

The people you call friends because you know you should hide the way they look down on gaming, on streaming; it's good for clout, but it's not like it's a real job. Don't they get that none of your jobs are real? Influencers are the lucky, pretty few, famous for existing at right place at the right time. You didn't expect this. You didn't grow up wanting to be on display like you are now.

They think you'll join in on their scorn, and though you've got your public beef, of course, you're heart hasn't been in it for a long time.

"Its clown on clown violence," you'd muttered darkly, glowering into the frypan you'd been put in charge of. Sapnap, cutting vegetables beside you, sorts a laugh, and asks what your friends would say if they could see you now. Quiet now, you focus on the sizzling pan before you.

"They'd think you've been a bad influence on me," you murmur, expression scrunching up. Becoming friends with Sapnap was inevitable, and was amusing to the rest of the world; taking a liking to your perceived arch-enemy's best friend was a delightful twist of fate.

After a long moment of silence, with only the gentle cooking noises to fill the space between you, he tells you he likes you better offline. It might be one of the nicest things anyone's ever said to you.

---

Florida is better than LA, socially, but not by much. There's less influencers per capita. Small miracles.

The nights feel long here, but maybe there's too much on your mind for you to get to sleep. You post on your IG asking if anyone was awake and nearby. Predictably your DMs are flooded, but you're not sure what you're looking for, what you want. A few other sleepless friends respond, asking if you wanna meet up, make some impromptu content. Everything about you had become monetised, even your insomnia; everything tastes sour as you read through their messages.

But Dream texts you asking if you want to go for a drive. You don't even ask where, you just say yes.

You're in your pyjamas when he picks you up, but then again so is he, brightly patterned cotton shorts against the fancy leather seats. There's already music playing when you curl up in the front seat, some songs you recognise, some you don't, but it's enough to keep your thoughts at bay.

Streetlights glowing rose gold along the highway, you don't care where he's going. Even in the dark, when you turn to look at him, you can catch the serious, pensive look on his face.

You want to tell him you love him, but you can't open your mouth.

He drives up the coast in the dark, until the sky and sea begin to turn lilac beyond the windows. On a lookout near a town whose name you don't know, the two of you sit on the hood of his car and watch the sunrise. He's got his arm around you, resting his head against yours, and for a moment, you close your eyes.

"I wish I could tell people how happy you make me," your voice the thought that had been plaguing for months, and Dream holds you a little tighter. He turns, in that moment, and presses a fond smile against your temple, followed by a kiss.

After a moment, you pull out your phone, and quietly ask if you can take a photo of the two of you. He hesitates, but only for the barest moment.

"Who am I gonna send it to; Sapnap?" You asked, though the moment may be more revealing than you'd intended, as the realisation flashes through your mind that the two of them had somehow become your closest friends, and perhaps the only two friends you honest felt like you could trust.

But it's enough to convince Dream, whose smile is half hidden with the way he's resting his head against yours, the two of you warm and full of joy in the light of the sunrise. Something about the photo has your breath catching in your throat.

You make the photo your phone background. He doesn't comment, but when you glance to him, you can see how wide his smile is.

---

The change is gradual. Bit by bit you force yourself back to being the person you started out as, the person you were offline, the version of you that you actually liked. It's the return of authenticity, of doing the things you actually enjoyed instead of whatever was on trend.

You didn't go to parties if you didn't like the people. You stopped making content with the people you knew were just using you for clout. You let yourself find joy in the work you did.

The people who mattered in your life respected it, applauded it, encouraged it. It felt good to laugh on camera and mean it. The uptick in followers may be from how genuine you were now being with the content you made, but with each day, you found yourself caring less and less about the numbers. It was freeing.

---

"I love you."

He says it first, late at night, for no reason that you can see. You'd been in his kitchen, one earbud in and video pause as you were whisper-ranting about how Tommyinnit didn't deserve the shit he got online-

"- he's good kid, and damn funny too! If I hear someone shittalk him in real life, I don't know, I feel like I'd start biting people - or maybe I'm biased, or need sleep; what time is it? -"

"I love you," and he's giving you this adoring look that had the words dying in your throat as you process the moment. He's sitting on his kitchen counter, wearing your merch hoodie, looking like something out of a dream you'd once had. Then, softly, finally, you find your voice and the words you've been longing to say;

"I love you, too."

His smile grows a touch wider, a touch fonder.

And you wonder where it came from, somehow without seeing how long the moment had been coming.

---

You agree to be on podcasts because the concept intrigues you, and happily and candidly admit that your shift in branding, in tone, in vibe if you will, was down to one thing; love.

And yes, finding someone was the catalyst, but it was realising that you didn't even like who you'd become that had been the driving force behind the change. You wanted to be able to love the content you created. You wanted to be able to love the version of yourself you put out into the world.

But the only thing the audience cares about, of course, is the revelation that you're in love.

---

[has enough time passed? am i allowed to admit publicly that i simp for @dream]

"Babe!" Comes shouted from the next room over less than thirty seconds after you post your tweet. The comes your boyfriend, practically tackling you, grinning from ear to ear as he bemoans how there's no way he can respond to that without giving anything away. You're cackling with delight at his dilemma, before pointing out that unless it was spelled out, no-one would be able to guess at the truth.

In the end, he quote tweets your post with [on your enemies-to-lovers arc i see].

---

There's an afternoon where you fall asleep on his sofa wearing one of his merch hoodies, one of his personal ones, oversized even on him, that had been tossed to the side but still clean enough for your liking. He'd been trying to get a cute and not-blurry photo of Patches in some of the new pet-merch, but she wasn't interested, clearly, preferring to trot out to you, curling up, radiating purrs by your stomach as you napped.

The photo he takes doesn't have your face in frame, but if anyone looked hard enough they could probably make an educated guess as to who was in the photo. There's something so soft about it, about how Patches was blinking happily at the camera as her little paws came to rest on your arm, warm and comfortable in the afternoon light.

"Patches, my beloved," you mumble groggily as you crack an eye open. It takes you half a moment to take in the scene, but you seem content to brush off her apparent favouritism by telling him that the hoodie smells like him. Your half asleep mind meant it to be an explanation for the cat's behaviour, but as you close your eyes again, you miss the way he goes vaguely pink and endeared, as you bury yourself further into the hoodie as best you can.

When you wake properly, you give your blessing for him to post it to Instagram. But the thing that catches you off guard is that he's made it his lock screen.

---

"Accidentally shittalking you might be the best thing I ever did," you murmur, tracing his features, illuminated by the moonlight streaming through the window. He laughs, and your fingers follow the curve of his cheek. Like this, he is beautiful, and he is yours.

You want to tell him you love him, so you do.

#dreamwastaken #dream #dream x reader #dreamwastaken x reader #dream imagine #dreamwastaken imagine #mcyt #mcyt x reader #shut ur pretty mouth #Spotify

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phoneybeatlemania-bit-the-dust · 3 years

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do you have any theories about the india trip ?? personally, im not sure what to think about it, but i’d love to hear your thoughts !!

(Sorry its taken me so long to answer this - it just got lost in my drafts cause im an idiot lmao 🤦‍♀️)

Im not entirely certain on what I believe happened in India, if in fact anything did happen at all - but more on that later! I guess though that these are the main theories (though if you have any differing opinions/theories, feel free to discuss them!):

1. Paul rejected John’s advancements

2. John wanted to further their relationship, and Paul wanted to maintain the ‘friends with benefits’ situation they already had

3. Nothing significant happened between the two (yet something still changed in John)

I’ll try to discuss which theories I find the most convincing, compelling and substantiated - as well as offering my own opinions and hypothesis’s ^^ (discussion bellow the cut)

1. Paul rejected John’s advancements

The theory I would say im most drawn to - not the theory that im necessarily most convinced by though - is that John made a move on Paul, after a few years of pining for him, and was subsequently rejected. Its a theory that I tend to be compelled by, but I have to admit that its one I struggle to justify entirely. The problem with this theory, for me, is that this is a conclusion ive drawn based mostly off of what their relationship appeared to look like after India. It seems as though something must have happened between them to have ruptured their relationship as profoundly as it did - and because they were on relatively good terms before India*, combined with certain inferences we could draw from comments John made regarding his feelings towards Paul and their relationship, it feels as though it’s possible that he made an advance on Paul, which was rejected and thus caused the ultimate disintegration of the Lennon/McCartney relationship.

(*I mean, their relationship was always complicated and difficult - but it seems that it was okay-ish prior to India, and then just inexplicably plummeted after the trip)

But nobody (as far as im aware) has confirmed, or even really alluded to, this advancement or rejection ever having happened. And the lack of evidence substantiating the claim is a major draw back for me!

However, I do also feel as though nobody’s really come out about anything that happened in India - all ive heard is that they meditated, wrote songs, John and Cyn fought, and Ringo ate baked beans. But like, more must have happened on the trip, surely? Im not saying the absence of information regarding the trip is proof that there was a big “lovers quarrel” between John and Paul, and that everyone involved in that trip is now just sworn to secrecy or something - but like, id just like to see a biographer really investigate the holiday, and try to conclude what events might have occurred during the trip, because as of right now, with the information we have, it seems to have been, bizarrely, both a lacklustre and uneventful, yet still hugely impactful event. If the narrative of the “India trip” were to be shifted in the future in light of new information, the same way the narrative of “Let It Be/Get Back” is being changed, I wouldn’t be surprised!

2. John wanted more, but Paul didn’t

Another popular theory is that John and Paul were engaged in something of a physical affair, but in India John proposed (or perhaps demanded even) that they take their relationship further, and Paul just wasn’t compelled to do so.

Beliefs vary regarding this, based on how far you personally think their relationship went: some might say they only ever did a little drunken experimenting with one another, and that it was just a fun fling until John suggested they take it further. Others might argue that they were in fact in a committed relationship, and John wanted to go public with it - or at the very least, demanded exclusivity between him and Paul.

In entertaining this theory, im most compelled to believe that John and Paul were engaged in occasional “flings”, and perhaps by ‘68 were even acknowledging that there was some deeper and more sincere between them - but ultimately, I don’t think Paul would have ever been inclined to fully commit to John, because I think he always wanted children and a family. In addition to this, though its clear John and Paul were passionate about one another, it isn’t clear how compatible they were in the long term - and with Paul being the more grounded of the too, I suspect he would have recognised this incompatibility, which John (the idealist) might not have.

Though I admit that John could certainly be unrealistic and irrational, im not convinced that he suggested to Paul they go public with their relationship, because I think John still had a fairly strong sense of his place in popular culture, and would have still been able to recognise that if they were to “come out”, it would probably deeply and irreparably damage both their careers - as well as George and Ringo’s too - at least amongst the general public. They’d still have some ardent fans, but their following overall would have become far more niche, and the “beatlemania” would’ve worn off swiftly. Im not sure if either of them would’ve been willing to take that heat in ‘68, especially not Paul, who as I mentioned earlier, I think might have recognised the futility and incompatibility inherent in their relationship.

Then again though, John was always a little “cocky”* when it came to his sexuality - I think if an interviewer were to genuinely have enquired into his sexuality, straight up asking him “Are you bi? Gay?” I get the sense that he would have told us! Sure he’d probably have dressed the response up with a dozen quick quips and jokes, but ultimately, I think he would have given a sincere response. And so, perhaps he did feel he had the confidence, at least in India, to actually “come out”, but if Paul wasn’t willing to make this official with him, perhaps this confidence dissipated.

(*No pun intended you pervs🤦‍♂️)

Another thing to note about India is that they’d have been relatively secluded, as well as off the drugs/drinks for the most part - and this would have forced them to really reflect upon their relationship. Perhaps John saw that he wasn’t contented with Cynthia, and recognised his desire for more from Paul - and so in such a raw state of mind, I can see how he’d become so shattered if Paul were to have rejected him (that statement could relate both to the first and second theory, I feel). Perhaps John made an advance upon Paul whilst they were both sober for the first time, and that changed their relationship somehow? Just thinking out loud here!

But again, this theory overall has the same problem as the first in that, though it appears to make sense, it still lacks proof; it ultimately isn’t a substantiated claim.

3. Nothing happened between J&P, but something changed

This is probably the theory that everybody is least interested in hearing, but I still think its a pretty valid one, albeit the least dramatic (In my opinion though its still a really interesting perspective to explore though!).

Its possible that nothing of particular significance happened in India, but something still shifted in John, causing him to vilify and reject Paul. The issue with this though, is that it begs the question: why did John undergo such a significant change in India then?

Id argue that perhaps John was making very subtle and slight moves towards Paul, that Paul either ignored or didn't pick up on. Id assume that perhaps John had been hinting at this desire for awhile now, and maybe he got it into his head that in India, where him and Paul would have a lot of time to be alone and intimate, his feelings would finally be reciprocated. But then, Paul never picked up on these hints, and never made any advancements - and this broke something within John. It would fit neatly within the Yoko narrative, because it offers reasoning to the abrupt but intense attachment John formed towards her almost immediately after India - as well as explaining the sudden vilification of Paul. But I suppose that the first two theories also fit pretty neatly within the Yoko narrative, because they all relate to the same basic concept that John wanted more from Paul, and Paul didn’t - and so he tried to replace him with Yoko.

I suppose though, that the this theory overall could also be countered by making the argument that Paul also began to spiral after India, and so some occurrence presumably must have happened to Paul too. I wonder though if its possible that maybe Pauls spiralling was kind of a result of Johns? I get the sense though that Paul would need a change in his life to cause his mental health to seriously deteriorate, but I don’t feel like the same is necessarily true for John - I think John is sort of the type to spiral, irregardless of whether his life undergoes a significant change or not, because I think John was the force driving a lot of the drama and troubles throughout his lifetime. So if Johns mental well-being started seriously deteriorating, I can see this being a cause of panic and anxiety for Paul.

But something that further inclines me to believe that an actual event occurred between John and Paul is this extract from Geoff Emmericks memoir (x)(id recommend reading the entire extract, its interesting!):

‘I glanced in Paul’s direction. He was staring straight ahead, expressionless and weary. He didn’t have much to say about India that day, or any other. I sensed at that moment that something fundamental in them had changed.”’

It just really feels as though there was some confrontation between John and Paul that had to have happened to perpetuate the miscommunication later seen between them. Like if there hadn’t been some kind of confrontation, then I can’t really understand why Paul would be reluctant to speak about India, or harbour any regrets or dismay regarding the journey. Perhaps you could drill it down to the betrayal they appeared to have felt by Maharishi allegedly hitting on girls - but I feel like this was a “betrayal” mostly felt by John, I never really got the sense that Paul was deeply effected by it.

But yeah - those are the main theories I think.

Overall, I think that the third theory is probably the most substantiated claim, but I think it leaves a lot to desired. It just doesn’t feel like it totally fits together, as though theres more to the story - but I guess relationships and peoples psyches aren’t puzzles, and so not everything is always going to piece together perfectly; but I dunno.

Like I said though, the theory im most compelled by is the first. I acknowledge that it lacks evidence, but it just seems to make a lot of sense to me! But really, who knows what the hell happened in India?

If anyone else has an opinion on all this, or wants to expand upon or even suggest a new theory, feel free to! I always like hearing from you guys!

#mclennon #asks #@cinnamontoastandtears #thanks for the ask!#india #what the fuck happened in india #maharishi #pauls sexuality #discussion

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mytwilightimagines13 · 3 years

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Memories from the past (Caius Volturi)

Word count: Trigger warning: mention of depression

Okaay, so I have decided to try and make one poly story. It seems they are quite popular and since my bisexual ass loves blondes, I figured I will ship our main character with Caius and Athenodora. Also I haven’t seen this ship just yet and I want to explore it hehe. Also, I got the idea from the facebook post below, so thanks for that person for giving me an idea! Hope you guys enjoy it!

Word count: 1083 Trigger warning: mention of depression, suicide

Here lies Isabella Marie Swan September 13th 1987 – September 16th 2027 "Death lies on her like an untimely frost Upon the sweetest flower of all the field." (Romeo and Juliet, Act IV, Scene V, Line 33)

I stood as I looked at the gravestone. My mother’s gravestone. I knew what I was supposed to feel. I had to feel grief, I had to mourn. Yet I didn’t. I was relieved, happy. She was finally free, she could finally rest. “Are you ready to go, kiddo?” my grandfather asked, his voice still shaking with pain. I nodded my head, finally removing my stare from the gravestone and towards the brown orbs that belonged to my grandfather. The brown was surrounded by red as his eyes were puffy from crying. “Yes, let’s go. Shall we go to the diner?” I asked, hoping some food would lift our spirits. Grandpa simply nodded his head as he wrapped his arm around my shoulders, pulling me close to his side. His hand was wrinkled yet laid firmly on them, almost afraid I would vanish as well.

“You know you aren’t allowed to drink, Xandria.” Grandpa said as I took a sip of my white wine. I chuckled. “I turn 21 next month gramps. Besides, I am allowed to drink in Scotland” I said as I took another sip. Grandpa rolled his eyes. “Yet you are in the United states right now. But I guess I can let this one drink slide for today.” He said as he took a sip of his beer. His hair was almost completely white, with some gray streaks woven through it. His face had been wrinkled and a kind yet stern look resided on it. And finally, a moustache in the same colour as his hair accompanied his features. I chuckled sadly at his remark. “Thank you, grandpa. And thank you for letting me stay here.” I said as I played around with my glass. “Anytime panda.” He said, using the nickname he gave me when I was a little chub. Grandma had once dressed me up in a complete panda jumpsuit as a toddler (yes, including with a hat that had little ears on it) and since then the nickname had stuck. The memory of it made me smile as I still had the little jumpsuit back at home.

Grandpa drove us back to his house, the ride back to it was quiet, as had our time at the diner has been. Neither of us felt like talking, not knowing what to discuss without returning to the topic that was my mother. My now dead mother. Once inside I helped grandpa get comfortable on the couch with another beer in his hand watching the football match that evening, yet his eyes where hallow. He merely stared at the screen. I kissed his cheek and made my way upstairs, towards mum’s old room. I jumped on the bed, plunging my face in the pillow as the tears finally came. Truth be told, she never really was much of a mother to me, sure she tried to be there for me but she had a crippling depression that she never could break out from. I had never seen her smile, well truly smile for that. There were only ghosts of what might once had been a genuine smile around her lips, but it never reached her eyes. I sad up and sniffed as I wiped my eyes. I had to remember that she was in a beter place now, and that she was happy. I sighed as I got up to make my way towards the bathroom, only to trip over a loose floor board. I yelped softly as I caught myself on the door handle, my other hand smacking against the wall beside it hard. “Everything okay up there, Panda bear?” Grandpa yelled from downstairs. “Yeah I am fine gramps, just lost my balance. No worries!” I yelled back as I turned around and examined the loose floorboard, only to discover it had a hidden compartment underneath. I knelt down to examine the compartment closer and found a small box hidden in it. I gently grabbed it and sat down on the bed. The box itself was a velvet blue with a simple clasp to keep the lit closed. I flicked the claps and carefully raised the lit, only to find multiple photographs of my mother and a necklace with some sort of crest on it. The crest was made of a lion, with a hand above it and three clovers in a banner underneath the lion. It was beautiful. I felt the tears burning yet again as I grabbed the pictures and started to look through them. It was my mother in her senior year of High School. She had pictures with all of her friends, they were in the parking lot, in classes or they were hanging out. But the last picture intrigued me the most. It was my mother on her 18th birthday, and she was standing next to a boy who seemed to be her age, only there was something odd about him. My eyes traced over his pale white features: the hard square of his jaw, the softer curve of his full lips—twisted in a smile, the straight line of his nose, the top of his forehead—partially obscured by the tangle of rain-darkened bronze hair. He seemed almost unnatural. But the thing that shocked me the most was my mother’s smile. It was genuine. Real. It even reached her eyes. I close my eyes and try to control the tears that are threatening to fall once again. I imagined she might have smiled this way the moment before she jumped off that cliff. I imagine she might have thought about this man. Maybe he was once her true love, before she met my father. Maybe he passed away, and is that the reason why no longer could smile after both he and my father passed away. I could not imagine what it would be like to lose someone you love twice. Even if it might have been years apart. I finally opened my eyes and allowed for one last tear to slip away. I had to believe she was happy now. That she was with my father and her first love again. That she is smiling now like she did in the picture I was holding close to my chest. I just had to believe that.

#twilight #volturi #caius volturi #athenodora volturi #twilight imagine #volturi imagine #vampire

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yolkyeomie · 3 years

Text

Humanity of the Inhuman | Kim Sunwoo

summary — legends are meant for the wild fantasies of the dream world, but when one myth suddenly comes true, you find yourself tangled within its webs of reality.

word count — 5.9k words

pairing — sunwoo x female!reader (ft x juyeon)

genre —college au, gumiho au

disclaimer —!! light mentions of death, blood, and injury !! lol happy birthday to my favorite writing muse in the world, sunwoo :)

part I | part II | part III | part IV?

You close the door behind you, a deep sigh falling out your mouth as you try to recount the events from today. Though you didn’t get very much time to yourself before you were rudely interrupted by banging coming from you bathroom door and an irritated voice shouting at you. “Hey! I know you’re here, I heard the door open and close! Are you going to let me out now or what?”

You glanced down the hall that led to the bathroom and saw the yellow paper talisman stuck on the door, completely untouched since you had placed it there to keep the gumiho in one place. “Wow, it actually works.” You mumble to yourself, slowly approaching the door knowing that the boy inside was struggling to escape.

You didn’t know how effective the talisman would be since nine tails were said to be rather powerful beings but it was truly working wonders to keep him in one place. Maybe he wasn’t very strong in reality? “Hey fox boy! I’ve got some questions, if you answer at least one of them I’ll let you out.”

You could hear the boy scoff from the inside, probably in disbelief that he was being held hostage by a human with no power to their name. “Doesn’t that sound fair?” You continued, “your freedom for information that I want, good deal right?”

“I don’t think I’m understanding correctly,” the boy began, slamming his fist against the bathroom door one last time to try and break free. You jumped back on instinct, the gumiho’s strength shaking the door on its hinges. Yet the paper talisman stood strong and refused to budge, making it hard for you to not break a smile a few moments later at the gumiho’s struggle. “What information could you, a human, possibly need from a gumiho, huh? Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

“I’m curious,” you admit, sitting down in front of the door and watching the boy’s shadow underneath the small gap in the door. “I'm taking mythology as a fun little elective class and we were just beginning to learn the lore behind nine tailed foxes, I just wanna see which type of myths are true and fake.”

“And you had to lock me,” the door handle jiggled for a moment to show the gumiho’s distress, “in your bathroom to do this?”

“You tried to kill me! What else was I supposed to do?” You complained, frustrated with the boy despite not even being face to face with him. “I was lucky enough to have a talisman sitting in my house that my parents had gotten me weeks ago! If I didn’t push you in there and put the talisman on the door, you probably would have eaten my liver or something.”

“I wouldn’t have eaten your liver,” the boy argued, a loud thump hitting the door as he spoke. It didn’t sound like a punch, more like he had put his back on the door and leaned ups against it. “Even if I wanted to, you made the dumb decision of saving me so now I’m in debt to you.”

“What? I’m sorry, can you run that back for a second?” You questioned, scooting up toward the door eagerly at this new piece of information. “What do you mean you're in debt to me?”

“The other day, when you told me you had saved me after I was attacked? You’ve binded me to you for doing me that favor, leaving me in debt to you. I cannot harm you while I’m debt to you unless I repay you for it.”

The silence between the two of you let a cold shiver run down your spine, though you were too busy processing the information he had given you. “It’s kinda like… an honor code but for gumihos. It was put in place by higher spirits in hopes of lessening the attacks caused by us. It never really worked though, no one dares to approach a fox in fear of being eaten.”

“I’m guessing that’s how it was centuries ago or something…,” you snorted, crossing your arms as you reminisced upon you accidentally stumbling across his injured body.

“Because no one tried, the message never got passed down to the next generations,” he explained, “so it’s become a lost piece of our mythos. Honestly I would have liked to keep it that way as well, but here you are bringing this rule back to fruition. Either way, I’m not going to kill you until I repay you, so there’s no need to keep me in here anymore.”

“You promise you’re not going to jump out and eat my liver the moment I open the door?” You questioned him, getting off the ground as you spoke.

The other side of the door was quiet for a moment before the boy finally answered, “you have my word.”

Cautiously, you put one hand on the door handle and took the talisman within the other. With silent prayer to any otherworldly being that might be watching you and the gumiho from above, you snatched the talisman off of the door and braced yourself for the unforgiving claws of the nine tailed fox you had trapped in your bathroom.

Though all you were greeted by was the grateful smile of the boy you had rescued, a hint of mischief sparkling in his ever changing amber eyes before settling to a deep dark brown to blend in with the mortals of your world. “That wasn’t that hard was it? Now if you excuse me—“

Before you even had the chance to retaliate, the boy darted between you and the door like a quick breeze in the air. He was much faster than you had anticipated, though it should have been expected from a creature such as a nine tailed fox. “Wait, where are you going? I had questions to ask!”

The boy stopped in his tracks, struggling to comprehend where the exit to your home was. He may have been in your house, but the most he had seen was your living room and bathroom. He cursed under his breath for finding himself trapped in an unfamiliar surroundings once again. You watched as the gumiho let out a deep sigh of frustration, turning around to face you with an annoyed yet sweet smile on his face. “Of course… the questions. How could I forget! Tell me, what is it that a human wants to know about gumihos?”

You held up the talisman as a warning sign, not knowing if it still had any useful power to it but it was definitely enough to get the nine tailed fox on his best behavior. “First off, who are you? Or more like… what’s your name? And why were you bleeding to death in rain when I found you?”

“Asking for a lot already, aren’t you?” He mumbled, snorting to himself as he threw himself onto your small couch. “My name is Sunwoo and as you know I am a nine tailed fox. As to why I was bleeding in that alleyway… I was attacked, like I told you before.”

“Okay, Sunwoo, I get that you were attacked but why?” You continued to pester, your curiosity of the gumiho’s situation overtaking your thoughts. The more he tried to hide what was going on, the more curious you became. Though you shouldn’t get close thanks to Juyeon, who knew what he’d do to you if you got closer. “A small argument doesn’t just lead into nearly murdering a person! Or well… fox.”

“My apologies…” he trailed off, looking to you for information.

“Y/N,” you answered him, “it’s Y/N.”

“My apologies, Y/N, but that sort of information is classified,” Sunwoo shrugged, flinching slightly as you threatened him with the talisman, “I just don’t think you’d want to involve yourself in gumiho business. It’s not something a human should be sticking their nose into either way.”

You roll your eyes at his excuse, pointing to yourself as you exclaimed, “have you already forgotten? I am your savior and you’re in debt to me! I should at least know why the victim was keeping attacked in the first place don’t you think? Just think of it as… you repaying your debt to me now.”

“That’s not how that works.” The boy explained, slightly cringing at your actions as he watched you place yourself upon a pedestal to ring information out of him. “I’m in debt to you, yeah, but it means I quite literally owe my life to you. You saved my life, now under whatever circumstances that might occur, I will save yours.”

“Tell me why happened, Sunwoo,” you urged, a little more aggressively this time.

“I stole a fox bead from another gumiho.” He admitted, crossing his arms as he leaned back into the couch. You could almost feel Sunwoo’s hair on his skin rise as he recalled the events prior, trying to decide what he wanted to say and what he’d keep from you. “They had found me and attacked in an attempt to get it back and as a result, left me there to die when they thought they had retrieved it. Luckily for me, they took a fake instead.”

“Fox bead?” You questioned, trying to wrack your head around in an attempt to remember if you had heard of such a thing before. Though you’re not sure if your mythology class had gotten far enough into your gumiho lesson to cover it. “What is that, fox beads?”

“It’s a bead for foxes, everyone has one,” Sunwoo teased, though quickly adding the actual explanation before you could threaten him again, “it’s a bead that provides most of the power and future knowledge that a gumiho could ever ask for, making them one of the most popular beings alive. The only way to obtain this amount, though, is by absorbing the energy of a human.”

“By kissing them?” You questioned, and Sunwoo nodded his head in reply. “My god, I can’t believe he was actually right…” you realized, recalling the information that Juyeon had given you. Nine tailed foxes feed off of a human’s existence, but who would have known they gain more power as a result of taking an innocent human’s life.

Instinctively, you cover your mouth as defense against Sunwoo, not completely trusting the gumiho as he laughed at you. “Have you already forgotten, Y/N? You’re my savior, I owe my life to you. I can’t harm you until that debt has been paid off.”

“Why would you steal a fox bead if every gumiho has one? Just go fill up your own bead you… sicko…” you glare, the vivid image of the gumiho in front of you snatching the life out of humans prevalent in your mind.

“I stole it because the gumiho who had this specific one had almost filled it all.” Sunwoo explained, he held his hand out for you to see as a flash of light sparked in his palms, an object beginning to form within his grasp as his eyes turned the same amber yellow as before. You watched as a glowing bead appeared in his hands, the same color as his foxish eyes and making a light jingle sound every time it moved.

“This is…,” you mumbled, mesmerized by such a beautiful crystal being presented to you.

“The fox bead, the nearly completed fox bead.” Sunwoo nodded. “There hasn’t been a fox bead of this variety in many, many millennia. If the gumiho I stole this from gets his hands on this again and gives it the last bit of human energy it needs? All hell will break loose. That’s what I stole it, or was instructed to steal it. A fox bead of this strength cannot be destroyed by just any gumiho, but by a—”

“Shut up for a second,” you interrupted him, putting the talisman down as inching closer to the fox bead. As the object moved around in Sunwoo hands, the jingling continued to get louder and louder in your head. It got to the point where it finally clicked in your head as to why you were drawn to fox bead in the first place. “I’ve heard this before, the ringing… jingling sound it makes.”

“The fox bead?” Sunwoo questioned, his eyes shooting up to yours at an alarming speed. When you nodded your head his amber yellow eyes snapped back to the natural dark browns and the fox bead disappeared from his hands. “What do you mean you heard the fox bead?”

“Before I found you, I heard jingling. Like… bells or wind chimes or something like that. I followed it because I was curious and it led me straight to you.” You explained yourself, recalling the events rather easily. “And it happened again earlier today when I was on the phone with my friend. It led me outside of my room which brought me straight to where you were. I guess what I was hearing all along was the fox bead.”

“Y/N…” he mumbled, struggling to father his thoughts as he spoke. “Y/N, the fox bead doesn’t make any noise. Or at least, humans cannot hear the jingling of a fox bead unless they are the gumiho’s next target. And we already know it couldn’t have been me because I’m in debt to you.”

You thought to yourself for a moment before replying, “are you saying that the gumiho you stole from… he was planning on using my energy to complete his fox bead?”

II.

“Okay, I understand this is a serious situation, but is all of this really necessary?” You turned your wary gaze toward Sunwoo, fidgeting with the sleeves of your jacket as you watched the boy wander not too far behind you.

Despite your cautious tone, the gumiho was a lot more relaxed than you were. Dressed brand new clothes you had bought specifically for him the day before, Sunwoo took in his surroundings with his keen dark eyes in search of the gumiho that was targeting you. “Of course it’s necessary. If I leave you to your own devices, the gumiho targeting you may try to strike and you will be gone before anyone finds out what happened… if they find out what happened that is.”

You shouldn’t be feeling this anxious about everything. After all you are on your turf, the college campus, and you have a mythical nine tailed fox following your move. You're more safe here than you could be anywhere else. Maybe it’s the fact that you can’t believe any of this is actually happening, it feels like you're in some sort of twisted fairytale than reality if you had to be honest.

Seriously, nine tailed foxes? Fox beads? Being the final victim for the beast? None of that is believable if you were simply hearing it but here you are experiencing it all.

“Well, at least don’t stick around so close,” you scold him, shooing him as far away as you could. “What if I come into contact with the nine tailed fox, and he sees you? He thinks you’re dead after all!”

“Actually...” Sunwoo trailed off, trying to word his next sentence as gently as possible. “Not exactly…? I mean… maybe like a day or two ago he would have believed I’m dead but—”

You stop in your tracks immediately, spinning on your heel to face the gumiho with a furious glint in your eyes, “—What do you mean ‘but’, Sunwoo?”

“It doesn’t take long for a gumiho to realize when they have a fox bead that’s not theirs,” he explained leaning up against the wall and fiddling with his hair as he spoke. “It’s an innate ability we all have, the one that the gumiho took was mine and that thing is completely empty. It was enough to give me time to get out of the city but then…”

“I found you and we figured out that the nine tailed fox was coming for me.” You finished off, wanting to curse yourself for ever stopping for the boy in the first place. You almost wish you didn’t get yourself involved with the nine tailed foxes, almost. “What's the point in doing all of this then?”

“It’s so I can find out where exactly the gumiho is hiding and keep him from you,” Sunwoo grinned, “and then stall him just enough so that I take his fox bead and destroy it.”

You stared at him for a few moments more before letting out an intensely deep sigh. For some reason, the plan that Sunwoo had created didn’t seem very fool proof. But what could you do? After all, you were the human and he was the gumiho. He knew a lot more about nine tailed foxes then you could ever imagine. He, unfortunately, held your life in the palm of his hands.

“Well you can’t stay beside me all of time,” you hissed, finally approaching the room that held your mythology class. “I don’t think I really want to explain to my class how I found and saved a nine tailed fox right after we started the course for your mythos.”

“You can let me in, it’s fine!” He grinned, trying to weasel his way past you and into the class before you could catch him. “I want to know what humans learn about gumihos! You know, give them a few pointers and let them know what’s true and what’s not true.”

“Sunwoo, no!” You snapped, your hands wrapping around his shirt collar and pulling him back as hard as you could. He lurched backward and nearly tumbled to the ground, shocked by your sudden burst of strength. “Are you really trying to keep me safe or are you in cahoots with the other nine tailed fox, him?”

The boy frowned at your accusations, forcing himself back into his feet as he opened his mouth, “Y/N—“

“Y/N!” You turned your head with neck breaking speed to see Juyeon approaching you from down the hall, his gleeful and generous smile beaming down on you once he got your attention. In a panic you turned back to Sunwoo, wanting to give your last attempt at shooing him away before realizing he had disappeared within an instant. The last hint of the gumiho’s mere existence was the faint jingle of the fox bead he had stolen echoing in your ears, so at least you knew he was still around.

You spun on your heels to face Juyeon as relaxed as possible, anxiously fumbling with your hands as he stopped in front of you. “You’re rather early aren’t you? Who were you talking to?”

“I was on the phone,” you quickly responded, your mind running miles as you tried your best to give him an excuse, “with Kevin! He was just checking up on me after the whole… spirits in my house fiasco.”

“Oh, I remember you coming to me about that,” he nodded, nervously adjusting the bag slung over his shoulder. “Are you okay actually? You never gave me an update on the sounds you were hearing and it… worried me, I guess.”

You slowly begin to smile at Juyeon’s kindness, jokingly punching him in the shoulder as you said, “aw, how sweet! Checking up on your good ol’ school friend, huh?”

“School friend…,” he trailed off, hesitating for a moment before smiling at you with the tips of his ears burning a slight shade of red. “Of course I’m worried about my school buddy! Mythology isn't fun without you there with me after all.”

You pat his back in reassurance, “don’t worry, everything is fine for the most part. Though…,” you stopped, wondering how you could discreetly mention Sunwoo’s existence and his warning of you being hunted by a nine tailed fox to the boy. Did you need to tell him actually? None of that was actually of Juyeon’s concern. But… he did say he was worried about you.

“If I needed to go somewhere… somewhere away from my home…,” the jingling from the past few days echoed in your ears as you spoke to him. The fox bead, Sunwoo, was nearby again. You should finish this conversation as quickly as you could. “Would you open your dorm to me? Just for like a day or so! I wouldn’t overstay—“

“Of course!” He blurted, his eyes wide with glee but quickly glistening over with embarrassment. Juyeon cleared his throat as he tried to continue the conversation as normal as he possibly could. “I mean— uh— I’d be happy to, don’t worry. I’d have to clean up a lot and move Hyunjae out so he won’t bother you so just… make sure to give me a heads up, okay?”

You blinked once, then twice, then once more just in case you were seeing what you were seeing. After a few moments of awkward silence after the boy’s rambling, you grinned at him. “Why didn't you question me for not asking Kevin first?”

“I…,” Juyeon struggled to reply, his face flushing as he realized what he had done. “You’re my school friend, Y/N! I’m going to help you when I can, of course. What type of friend would I be if I didn’t?”

You couldn’t tell if the awkward silence between the two of you was because of Juyeon’s terrible lie or the fact that both of you were still astonished by what came out of his mouth. Though you didn’t have time to ponder on it any longer when the fox bead jingled in your ears again and the boy finally piped up, “I’m gonna go ahead and head inside now. See you, Y/N, in like… three minutes or something, I don’t know—“

“—I’m gonna make a call back to Kevin first,” you added on, finally gaining control over your body again as you pulled out your phone and gestured to it. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

He nodded a few more times than needed before skipping into the mythology class, not even daring to look back at you as he disappeared within the class. You couldn’t tell whether Juyeon’s genuinely just being his normal kind self to you or if his actions were motivated by something deeper, you honestly didn’t want to find out at the moment. Not when there was a gumiho out for your head at the moment.

“Alright, Sunwoo, you can come out now—“ your breath hitched as you felt a hand tug aggressively at your wrist, practically snatching you away from the doors to your mythology classroom and into a more secluded hallway.

When you looked up Sunwoo loomed over you, his dark eyes turning into its mystic amber yellow and his nails digging into your skin as his grip grew tighter and tighter. “Are you crazy?” He questioned, though the jingle of the fox bead he had stolen nearly drowned out his voice. “Why were you talking to him?”

“Juyeon?” You question, yanking your arm away from him and taking a giant step away from him. “He’s… he’s my friend, why would I not talk to him? I’ve been taking this class with him since the semester started. He’s a good guy, don’t worry about him.”

“He’s not some good guy, Y/N,” Sunwoo warned, holding out his fist for you to see. Curiously you watched as the fox bead began to form in the palm of his hand, gleaming a much brighter light and practically pulsing with the energy of humans trapped within it. For something so morbid, you sure found it beautiful. “Juyeon is a gumiho, why are you trusting him?”

“Huh?” You respond, unsure of whether or not you had actually heard him correctly. “I’m sorry, repeat that one more time for me.”

“Lee Juyeon,” Sunwoo answered, reciting his full name without you even needing to tell him, “is a gumiho, the very gumiho I stole this fox bead from. Juyeon is targeting you.”

III.

“Y/N!” Sunwoo yelled, banging his fist against the bathroom door like he had been doing for the past couple of days. He was in time out for telling such a ridiculous lie and assuming you’d believe him right off of the bat just because he was a mythical creature. “Y/N, why are you being like this? Can you at least talk to me again.”

You didn’t respond as you laid face first on your couch, struggling to block out the gumiho’s voice from your head. Did he really think you’d believe that Juyeon, the boy you’ve known for nearly the entire semester, was a gumiho? Nine tailed foxes may be master manipulators, but there were some lies that were outrageous enough for even the most simpleminded folk to see past.

“Y/N, you can’t keep me in here forever! Juyeon will come after you when least expect it and—“

“Shut up!” You finally snapped, grabbing a hold of one of the cheap decorative pillows laid across your couch and throwing it as hard as you physically could at the bathroom door. Though the pillow only made it halfway across the room before crashing to the ground without a sound, leaving your sigh of frustration to fill the gap left by the silence.

“I just… I don’t understand. You humans make no sense at all! Why is it so hard to accept the fact that Juyeon is a gumiho?” Sunwoo complained, forcing you to get off the couch and march your way toward the bathroom door. “You wanted to figure out why you heard the fox bead make noise and now you have your answer, Juyeon has been targeting you this entire time! Why are you defending him so hard—“

You snatched the talisman off the door and swung the door open with the ferocity of a tiger, taking the nine tailed fox off guard and watching him stare up at you with a wide eyed and frazzled expression. “Maybe I’m defending him so hard because I’ve been him much longer than I’ve known you! Juyeon has been nothing but… but sweet and kind to me all semester, he’s been looking out for me for who knows how long, and you just want me to believe that he’s out to take my life?”

Sunwoo blinked at your words before vigorously nodding his head, “yes, of course!”

An angry growl of frustration escaped your mouth, getting ready to slap the talisman back on the door and lock the nine tailed fox back inside. “Aren’t gumihos literally trickster spirits? I can’t believe I’ve believed everything that’s come out of your mouth so far. Who knows how many times you’ve already lied to me? Next thing I know you’re going to try and eat my livers when I least expect it!”

However the boy was much more sly and quicker than you could have ever been, so he easily slipped out of the way before you could do so, “I thought I already explained I’m not going to kill you? I physically cannot do so. I have an honor code to follow, genius!”

“How do I know that’s not a lie too, hm?” You questioned, crossing your arms like a child as you walked away from him. “You have no proof of this… this nine tailed fox honor code. How should I trust the words that come out your mouth, hm?”

Sunwoo frowned, the corners of his mouth going as low as they possibly could. “Do you like him or something? Suddenly all the trust we’ve built up has crumbled into nothingness, it’s really getting on my nerves.”

“I do not like Juyeon, he’s just a really good friend!” You shouted, retaliating sharply to the nine tailed fox. The boy nodded his head slowly, clearly not believing your words and rolling his eyes not long after. “But the stuff you’re saying? Unbelievable, this entire situation is unbelievable as is!”

“How do I make you believe what I say, without you accusing me of being a ‘master manipulator’?” Sunwoo mocked, though genuinely trying to find a solution to your disagreement. “I could tell you that I can’t lie to save my life, but you’d think that’s me trying to manipulate you or something again. You know, not all gumihos are good at lying! Some of us are—“

“Prove it,” you demanded, gesturing around your living room as you waited for him to respond. “Prove that you’re not going to harm me and prove that Juyeon is actually a nine tailed fox. I need cold hard facts and visual evidence before I can go on and trust you with my life again.”

“Y/N,” Sunwoo whined, trying to get you to let him off the hook just this one time. Yet you shook your head, sat down on the couch, and simply waited for him to somehow prove he wasn’t just being the stereotypical nine tailed fox she had been learning.

“Go on,” you urged him, “I’m waiting.”

The gumiho looked around in a frenzy, unsure of what exactly he could do to win your trust. You sat and watched him struggle, trying to wrack your own brain around why you had trusted Sunwoo so easily. Was it because you found him while he was injured and dying? But you should never trust strangers in the street anyway, whether they were at death’s door or not!

Maybe it was that cursed fox bead, it’s soft ring echoing in your ears and clouding your judgement each time you needed to make a decision. Were you even sure that the fox bead wasn’t actually his? He could have been lying about that whole situation too…

“I got it!” Sunwoo exclaimed, catching you off guard and shaking you from your thoughts. You look up to see the boy holding his hands out in front of him, his eyes beginning to shift into that familiar amber yellow and an object forming in his hands.

“Hey! No gumiho powers can be used!” You yelled, leaping up from your seat to stop him. Though the gumiho only stepped out of the way, raising his hands straight up so that you couldn’t reach him. “How do I know that it doesn’t amplify your ability to manipulate or not?”

“This can’t be done without the power of a gumiho in the first place,” he hissed, lowering his hands once the stolen fox bead finally materialized in his hands. “Do you want me to prove that I can’t harm you or what?”

You hesitate for a moment and a large smile begins to grow across Sunwoo’s face. “Then this is the only way I can prove it to you. I’ve told you once before that the fox bead is used to absorb human energy, so I’m going to use it on you to show that I genuinely cannot hurt you.”

“Use the fox bead on me…?” You repeat, letting his words slowly process before Juyeon’s words begin to blare through your head. “Wait… doesn’t that require like… kissing me? No, absolutely not! What if this is just a plow to kill me or something?”

“Y/N,” Sunwoo held the fox bead in his hands, it’s glow shining through the crevices of his hands as he spoke, “do you trust me?”

“No!” You quickly replied, “no, I do not!”

“Perfect, that’s the whole point of us doing this then!” He grinned, opening his mouth and dropping the fox bead in like a piece of candy. “It’ll be like two seconds, don’t worry! Well, it’ll feel like two seconds depending on whether or not the fox bead actually absorbs your energy...”

“Sunwoo!” You snap, finding yourself trapped behind the couch and the nine tailed fox in front of you. He took two enthusiastic steps forward before you put your hands in front of you, pushing him to arms length as you quickly spilled, “are you sure this is the way we have to do this? Can you figure out any other way?”

“No I can’t,” Sunwoo hissed between clenched teeth, urging you to put your hands down. “Can we please get this over with so that we can move on to other things? This will take like two seconds.”

“Ugh, fine!” You finally comply, tapping your lips and growling out, “let’s just… get this over with, if you end up actually killing me with this I will haunt you in the afterlife!”

The gumiho leaned in close, his hands hovering over your shoulders and his breath fanning across your face while the sparkle of the fox bead glistening in the corner of your eye. It gleamed in between the roof of his mouth and tongue before you no longer could catch sight of its glow, Sunwoo’s lips pressed fully onto yours without warning of his sudden roughness.

You yelp at his actions but it was entirely eaten up by the gumiho pressing his hands into you, engulfing the fleeting moment as quickly as he could. Somehow you found the strength to separate yourself from him, taking a moment to inhale just once and let out a “Sunwoo—“ before the boy dove right back in again.

He moved from your shoulders to cup your face in his hands while his weight pushed the both of you onto the couch below. You were practically drowning in the gumiho’s desires, too engrossed in Sunwoo’s kiss to notice the fox bead rolling out of his mouth into yours. Though the boy pulled back suddenly, breaking kiss and leaving the two of you breathless and in silence. If you didn’t have the willpower to hold yourself back, you probably would have pulled him back in again… how embarrassing.

His amber yellow eyes twinkled for a moment before shifting back into its illusion of a dark brown and he finally spoke to break the stillness of your home, “look to the sky, look to the land, and then look the people,” Sunwoo explained, having deep breaths after each sentence, “then swallow the fox bead.”

You didn’t get a chance to reply before the gumiho kissed you again, filling you up with the same adrenaline from not even a few seconds ago then retaking the fox bead from your mouth. You blinked a few times to bring yourself back to reality, wanting to ground yourself before speaking another word out your mouth, “why?”

“That’s how you defend yourself against a gumiho and destroy the fox bead all together.” Sunwoo responded, rising off of the couch and taking a few steps away from you. “The only reason you didn’t feel your energy being drained was because that wasn’t my fox bead and I am obligated to protect you, not harm you. You just need to know in case Juyeon takes his back and comes for you.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me instead of—,” you cut yourself off, covering your mouth with your hands and hoping desperately that Sunwoo didn’t catch the intense burning of your ears or beating of your heart, “instead of… showing... me...”

Sunwoo grinned, a grin so eerily similar to a real fox that you almost scoffed. “Because you thought I was manipulating you and wanted me to prove my innocence. Oh and don’t worry about me proving Juyeon is a gumiho, I’ve got something planned that will help.”

He stopped talking for a moment, licking his lips as you finally found the strength to sit upright on the couch and turned his piercing dark eyes toward you. “Of all the things, I didn’t expect you to taste like strawberries? How… interesting.”

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buckyownsmylife · 3 years

Text

v e l o c i t y - chapter iv

The one where John’s your true mate, but he doesn’t want you to be his.

In a universe where fate grants you a new mate whenever you lose yours, John has lived quite comfortably for many years with the knowledge that he was alone after Mary. That all comes crumbling down the second that he meets you. How could the universe choose someone so young to be his omega?

for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist. It’s being constantly updated and if you’d like to be tagged on my following John Winchester stories, just fill out this form.

A/N: Hey! We start to get to the good stuff, and that means I finally get to show what sort of modifications my A/B/O world has. If I’ve done my job correctly, you’ll get it without me having to clarify it, but if not, here’s the breakdown: alphas, betas and omegas can mate whomever they want, but only after meeting their true mate. One of the ways it becomes clear someone has met their mate is that their scent changes - as scenting is something quite popular in A/B/O dynamics. I think that’s it. Hope you guys like it!

I was so lost in my own thoughts - with a brief interception to wonder who the fuck constructs a bar that makes their client have to leave the building and walk all the way to the back of it just so they could use the bathroom - that I only realized the Alpha that was stalking me when he already had me against the wall, his lips fused with mine.

“James,” I quipped, hands simultaneously trying to push him away and pull him closer, undecided if this was the right thing to do even if the way my pussy ached just with his nips over my scent gland was undeniable.

“James,” I tried again, knowing if I didn’t get this out I would end up doing something I’d regret. I was too close to my own heat, and it’d been too long since I felt an Alpha’s hands on my body… The need I felt was overwhelming, but there was so much I needed to consider. “I think we should talk…”

His beard tickled me as he nuzzled against my neck, right where he’d threatened to leave a mark so many years ago. The memory brought shivers down my spine, and I gasped and grabbed fistfuls of his shirt when he licked it, my nipples instantly pebbling under my shirt as a whine fell from my lips.

“Oh, come on, sweetheart,” he countered, hands already traveling under my shirt to find just how affected I was from his caresses. “Remember how good I can make you feel?” Flashes from that summer were all I could think about when I closed my eyes and rested my head on the brick wall behind me, trying to gather some focus, trying to think. But underneath all of the confusion and indecision, one thing was overwhelmingly clear to me: after everything I’d been through with finding my true mate and having him reject me, I was reveling in the feeling of feeling desired at all.

Even if it wasn’t by the man I wanted.

“Yes, I remember,” I finally admitted, hands finally settling around James’ strong shoulders before I buried one of them in his long locks. And that was all the consent he needed to really lave me in his attention, sucking and licking my lips, my jaw, my neck, and shoulder, while his hands made quick work of my underwear.

“You won’t be needing that anymore,” he joked, quickly returning his lips to my scent gland, determined to leave me at least with his smell if he wouldn’t leave me with his mark - something I still wasn’t able to determine. As it were, I was much too occupied with other thoughts to consider anything else at that moment, so I just allowed him to kiss and nip all over my skin, my hips instinctively looking for more of his touch.

“God, I’ve been thinking about this for so long. Do you know how much I longed for you? I feel like I’ve been waiting for you all this time. I thought about you, about this sweet cunt, every single night,” he growled against my cheek as his fingers finally plunged inside of me, finding me wet and ready for him.

I tried to ignore the fact that he wasn’t the actual cause of my wetness, and that I couldn’t say the same about him. As much as I cherished my time with James, he hadn’t consumed my thoughts or fantasies - especially not since I’d seen John for the first time.

But I doubted those were his real feelings, anyway. He was probably just saying this for the sake of the fuck, or at the most, to convince me to let him mark me. There was no way this man, this Alpha, had spent so long just hung up on me.

“Fuck, I can’t count how many times I got off to the thought of you, but now you’re here.” Oops, guess I was wrong. “Now you’re here, and we can be together. If you want. Your scent has changed, you found your mate. You can leave him behind and come with me. I promise I can make you forget all about him.”

I was so fucking sensitive from not having been touched for so long that a few thrusts of his fingers had me cumming all over his digits, a gasp that resembled his name escaping my lips as I struggled to hold myself up. The weight of James’ words, his offer, still couldn’t be processed by my orgasm-driven mind, which now that had met some sort of release, could only think of finding another.

I never even stopped to consider how James had realized that John was my true mate, but I seriously could not be bothered to care about it then. My hands were occupied with his zipper, reaching out to touch his cock - I always did enjoy how he never liked to wear boxers - while his fingers kept fucking me to another release.

I felt one of his thumbs tap my lips and instinctively sucked on them, knowing he wanted to stop my cries from reaching innocent bystanders who could be leaving the bar in search of the bathroom or the parking lot. And it was that thought that had me realizing that we were very much out on the open, where anyone could see…

And then my eyes met his.

“Don’t mind him, baby. I bet he’s only watching because he wants to know how you like to be touched. I’ll show him, huh? Maybe I’ll even let him join. Let him taste this little pussy. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

And just as realization struck me of what was really happening, my body starting to wiggle to push James away from me, John stepped out of the shades, his entire frame radiating waves of fury.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

#my series #john winchester smut #smut #john winchester #john winchester x reader #john winchester reader #john winchester reader insert #john winchester reader inserts #john winchester fanfiction #john winchester imagine

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hello-yue-here · 3 years

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Yuetara, zukka, and maiko

yuetara

ship

1) its not one of my main ships. i dont rlly read fanfic for them but if i see a cute fanart of them ill enjoy it and i think i first started shipping it because of good fanarts for them.

2) i like yuetara because of how similar they are. theyre both women from the water tribe. they both understand the misogyny that they have faced. and they both said f sexism im gonna be a strong woman. i also love the tui and la parallel. moon spirit and ocean spirit parallel COME ON. YUE IS THE MOON. KATARA IS THE MOST POWERFUL WATERBENDER. THEY ARE THE OCEAN AND THE MOON. the push and pull they could give eachother. that dynamic ftw.

3) i guess if i didnt like something about this ship would be the fact that if i read a fic or see a fanart w yuetara then than means in that particular au i wont get any yuekka and yuekka is probably my second favorite ship. but then again if i get yuetara than i could get a plethora of other sokka ships to go with it so my sadness disappears in like two seconds. gosh shipping is hard sometimes until you remember ‘hey i have like fifty different universes in my head. all ur ships can coexist in ur brain olivia’ other than that i really see no downsides to this ship. maybe i wish it had more content. maybe if it had more content id ship it a lot more but its not one of the more popular ships so the content is kinda few n far between on my feed.

zukka:

SHIPPP

1) my boys. my babies. my loves. i watched this show for the first time when it came out on netflix and when it ended i really didnt ship anything other than kataang. i came onto tumblr to find fun atla content and one of the very first things i saw under the atla tag was zukka content. i was like oh? whats this? zukka? interesting... i was intrigued so i found a list of fic recs and i fell in love with the ship. the rest is history. its probably my number one ship because it was my very first ship here and im nostalgic

2) oh boy there is so much i like about this ship. i relate to a shit ton of characters in atla. but sokka and zuko may be the ones i relate to most. i relate to sokka because i tend to feel second best a lot to my friends. i try to stay positive but things rarely go the way i plan or hope for them too and while im happy for my friends and their achievements i oftentimes find myself thinking why cant that be me? and i see this a lot in sokka especially in sokkas master. i dont feel special a lot and idk seeing sokka feel the same way and then realizing he is special kinda helped me realize that im special too. on the flipside i relate to zuko because i have wild anger issues and difficulty dealing w my emotions a lot as well. i get broody and short tempered and insecure very often and i tend to push people away and i refuse to ask for help (the amount of teachers and adults and therapists who have told me its okay to ask for help ur not any weaker because of it is astounding. do i listen to them? .....im working on it.) and i saw a shit ton of this in zuko. book one and two zuko rarely asks for help as seen in the blue spirit and zuko alone and he pushes away uncle so many times and even when the gaang iffers to help him in i think its the chase he tells them to leave. when he finally has his redemption and joins the gaang and lets them kinda become a better person i was so happy. i want that for myself yk. seeing him finally win the agni kai and overcome his family that always told him he was nothing was such a win. my sister and i get along but when we were children we were very much like zuko and azula. it was extremely competitive all the time and there was so much toxicity and sibling drama to a concerning extent. we get along great now which im very happy about but yeah their sibling relationship hit a lil too on the nose for me. seeing as i relate to these character so much and want them ti be happy i want to live vicariously through them so seeing them together is amazing for me to project into them. i love projecting onto fictional characters and with them i can project onto BOTH so its a winwin. plus so many zukka fics are so well written and heartwarming and heartbreaking and emotional and fluffy anf UGH the talent here us astounding.

3) what do i not like about the ship? again the list is long. oops. mainly the toxic shippers. there are so many toxic zukka stans that sometimes make it hard for me to enjoy this ship but hey! thats what the block button is for:) i despise how often people infantilize zuko and completely ruin his character for the sake of making him a soft weak lil boy who needs protecting. thats just not zuko for me. and ive seen many many accounts even state that this kind of portrayal of zuko is rooted in racist stereotypes about asian men (now i am white so i personally have never experiences racism but i feel the need to bring that up because it is wrong and attention needs to be brought to it because a lot of poc fans have criticised this) and the same for sokka. some ppl rlly skew his character and make him a big strong brute and hypermasculine and once again poc fans have said that this take is rooted in racist stereotypes. again! these are just my opinions! this is my favorite ship! but i think its important to acknowledge some of the bad parts of our ships as well and be critical where criticism is needed :))

maiko

ship

1) I LOVE MAIKO. “i dont hate you” “i dont hate you too” BRUH. my little heart just burst into flames. im sorry guys but maiko is so cute. they hate everything except eachother. BRUH that is one of the cutest tropes. i shipped them the moment i saw them together onscreen and i was so happy when zukos face lit up in the finale when mai came back.

2) “i hate everything but i have a soft spot for you” TAKE MY MONEY I AM A SUCKER FOR THIS. they are so cute together. like zuko is rarely happy in a majority of atla but mai makes him happy and i- 🥺🥺 HE DESERVES IT. and mai is always so supportive of him. when hes stressing out about the war meeting she tries her best to comfort him. and zuko cares about her too. he may not be the best at showing it but oh my god hes TRYING HIS BEST. i think its a very accurate portrayal of teenage relationships because they arent perfect and they do fight but like,, every teenage relationship does that. and even after everything and how he left her in the fire nation she still had his back at boiling rock. she still risked her life against azula to save his butt.

3) the thing i hate about maiko isnt even about maiko. its about antis who think mai is toxic and that zuko deserves better. that has got to be the worst take ive ever heard. they had a fight in ember island. that is NORMAL. they are teenagers. they are not perfect. but underneath all the rough edges and things they need to work out they still care about eachother so freaking much. i genuinelt believe that neither of them would do anything to intentionally hurt the other and i think thats what matters the most. if anything mai is the best girlfriend in the entire world because zuko fucked up like,, quite a few times. he got rlly jealous and dumped her thru a letter and ppl always say that mai was toxic for being mad at him for those two things. umm she had every right to be mad at him for both of those. and while zuko is allowed to feel his emotions and be angry sometimes as well sometimes he needs to think things thru and realize that hey maybe some if this jealousy is unfounded. BUT EVEN THEN. HE RESPECTED HER FEELINGS AND DIDNT TOUCH HER WHEN SHE SAID DONT TOUCH ME. HE RESPECTED HER. so i hate toxic maiko takes because they are literally so wrong in my opinion.

again all of these are just my opinions!! feel free to agree or disagree but please be respectful!! i will respect whatever u think as well because this is all just for fun :)

#atla #avatar the last airbender #zukka #yuetara #maiko #ship game #ask game #long post #wow i wrote a lot #also if anyone wants to talk ships feel free to message me!

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kuromichad · 3 years

Text

different subject that’s heavy on my mind rn but since i’m already being harsh let’s get into it. i wish it wasn’t automatically presumed to be some kind of truscum attitude when someone tries to express that different parts of The Trans Community have like, different needs and different risk levels and different experiences and that we have the ability to talk over each other, harm each other, etc... like when i put it that way people generally are like ‘of course that’s true!’ but is it ever really understood in practice? a number of people (not a large enough number, but still) are able to loosely understand ‘you can be trans and transphobic’ when it’s applied to the matter of transmisogyny but when a trans person tries to express distrust of or frustration with afab nb people due to how common it is that that category of person will, despite being trans/nb, espouse bioessentialist, anti-medical-transition, radfem-adjacent if not outright cryptoterf rhetoric, suddenly ‘trans people can be transphobic’ gets applied to... the person with a complaint about transphobia.

because he’s clearly an evil truscum man! regardless of if the person making the complaint is a trans man or trans woman, oops, lol. he’s a bad person who is attacking and invalidating and totally hatecriming the heckin’ valid, equally at-risk transgender identity of “an afab woman who isn’t a woman except when she pointedly categorizes themself as a woman because being afab makes them a woman who is ‘politically aligned’ with women but she’s not an icky unwoke cis woman because they don’t like being forced into womanhood although Really When You Think About It 🤔 all women are dysphoric because obviously the pathologized medical diagnosis of gender dysphoria in transgender people is something that equally applies to cis women just default existing under patriarchy 🤔, and no, equating these things totally does not imply anything reductive about or add a bizarre moral dimension to the idea of being transgender, whaaaaat, this woman who isn’t a woman doesn’t think there’s anything immoral or cowardly or misogynist or delusional about being transgender, they would never say that because THEY’RE transgender, except when she feels it’s important (constantly) to make clear that she’s Still A Woman Deep Down Inherently Despite Not Identifying As One, and none of this ever has any effect on how they treat the concept, socially and politically, of people who actually wholly identify with (and possibly medically transition to) a gender different from the one they were assigned at birth, be it ‘the opposite gender’ or abstaining from binary gender altogether or ‘politically aligning’ with the ‘opposite’ gender from their asab. never ever!”

and like maybe that sounds like a completely absurd and hateful strawman to you! but in that case you’re either like, lucky, or optimistic, or ignorant. i’m literally not looking at random nb people and declaring that in My Truscum Opinion they’re ‘really a woman’ just because they’re not medically transitioning or meeting some arbitrary standard of mine. i am looking at self-identified afab nb people, who most often use she/they because, y’know, words mean things, especially pronouns, so people who are willingly ‘aligned with womanhood’ typically intentionally use she/her (sorry that i guess that’s another truscum take now!!! that pronouns mean things!!! the bigender transmasc who deliberately uses exclusively he/him wants it to invoke a perception he’s comfortable with!), who actively say the things listed above (in a non-sarcastic manner).

like, the line between a person who says “i don’t claim to really not be my asab because i know no one would ever perceive me as anything else” because theyve internalized a defeatist attitude due to societal transphobia, and a person who says that because they... genuinely believe it’s impossible/ridiculous/an imposition to truly be transgender (in the traditional trans sense, beyond a vague nb disidentification with gender) and are actively contributing to the former person’s self loathing... is hard to define from a distance! i think plenty of people who are, in a sense, ‘tentative’ or like ‘playing close to home’ so to speak in their identity are ‘genuinely trans’ (whatever that may mean) and just going through a process. they might arrive at a different identity or might just eventually stop saying/believing defeatist stuff, who knows. but there are enough people saying it for the latter reason, or at least not caring if they sound that way, that it’s like, dangerous. it is actively incredibly harmful to other trans people. and it’s fucking ridiculous that it’s so difficult to criticize because you’ll always get the defense of “umm but i’m literally trans” and/or “well i’m just talking about ME, this doesn’t apply to other trans people” when it’s an attitude that very clearly seeps into their politics and the way they discuss gender.

because it’s just incredibly common for afab nb people (most typically those that go by she/they! since i’m aware that uh, i am also afab nb, but we clearly are extremely different, so that’s the best categorization i’ve got) to discuss gender in moralized terms, with the excuse of patriarchy/misogyny existing, which of course adds another difficult dimension to trying to criticize this because it gets the response of “don’t act like misandry is real” (it’s not, but being a dick still is) and “boohoo, let women complain about their oppressors” (this goes beyond ‘complaining’). a deliberate revocation of empathy/sympathy/compassion from men and projection of inherently malicious/brutish/cruel intent onto men (not solely in the justified generalizations ‘men suck/are dangerous’, but in specific interactions too) underpin a whole fucking lot of popular posts/discussions online, whether they’re political or casual/social, and it absolutely influences how people conceptualize and feel about transness.

because ‘maleness is evil’ is still shitty politics even when you’ve slightly reframed it from the terf ‘trans women are evil because they’re Really Men and can never escape being horrific soulless brutes just as women can never escape being fragile morally superior flowers’ to the tumblr shethey “trans women who are out to me/unclockable are tolerable i guess because they’re women and women are good; anyone i personally presume to be a cis man, though, is still automatically evil, and saying trans men are Just As Bad is progressive of me, and it’s totally unrelated and apolitical that i think we should expand the concept of afab lesbianism so broadly that you can now be basically indistinguishable from trans men on literally every single level except for a declaration of ‘but i would never claim to be a man because i’m secure in the Innate Womanhood of the body i was born into, even as i medically alter that body because it causes me great gendered discomfort.’ none of this at all indicates that i feel there’s an immense moral/political gap between being an afab nb lesbian vs a straight trans man! it says nothing at all about my concept of ‘maleness’ and there’s no way this rhetoric bleeds into my perception of trans women and no way loudly talking about all this could keep trans people around me self-loathing and closeted, because i’m Literally Trans and Not A Terf!”

again, if that sounds like a hateful strawman, sorry but it’s not. i guess i’m supposed to be like ‘all of the many people ive seen saying these shitty things is an evil outlier who Doesn’t Count, and it’s not fair to the broad identity of afab shethey to not believe that every person who doesn’t outright say terfy enough things is a perfectly earnest valid accepting trans person who’s beyond criticism’ but like. this cannot be about broad validation. this can’t be about discarding all the bad apples as not really part of the group. we can’t be walking on eggshells to coddle what are essentially, in the end, Cis Feelings, because in the best cases this kind of rhetoric comes from naive people who are early and uncertain in their gender journey or whatever and are in the process of unraveling internalized transphobia, and in the easily observable worst cases these people are very literally redefining shit so that ‘actually all afab women are trans, spiritually, all afabs have dysphoria, we are all Equally oppressed by Males uh i mean cis men <3’ because, let’s be honest, they know that the moment they call themselves trans they get to say whatever they want about gender no matter how harmful it is to the rest of us. and those ideas spread like wildfire through the afab shethey “woman that’s not a woman” community that frankly greatly outnumbers other types of trans people online, because many of those people just do not have the experiences that lead you to really understand this shit and have to push back against concepts of gender that actively harm you as a trans person.

like that’s all i want to be able to say, is Things Are Different For Different Groups. and a willful ignorance of these differences leads to bad rhetoric controlling the overall discourse which gets people hurt. and even when concepts arise from it that seem positive and helpful and inclusive, in practice or in origin those ideas can still be upholding shit that gets other people hurt. like, i don’t doubt that many people are very straightforwardly happy and comfortable with an identity like ‘afab nb lesbian on testosterone’ and it would be ridiculous and hypocritical for me, ‘afab nb who wants to pass as a guy so he can comfortably wear skirts again,’ to act like that’s something that can’t or shouldn’t exist. it’s not about the identity itself, it’s about the politics that are popular within its community, and how the use of identities as moral labels with like, fucking pokemon type interactions for oppression effectiveness which directly informs the moral correctness of your every opinion and your very existence, is a shitty practice that gets people hurt and leads us to revoke empathy from each other.

like. sorry this is all over the place and long and probably still sounds evil because i haven’t thought through and disclaimered every single statement. but i’m like exhausted from living with this self-conscious guilt that maybe i’ve turned into a horrible evil truscum misogynist etc etc due to feeling upset by this seemingly inescapable approach to gender in lgbt/online circles that like, actively harms me, because when i vent with my friends all the stuff i’ve tried to explain here gets condensed down to referencing ‘she/theys’ as a category and that feels mean and generalizing and i genuinely dislike generalizations but the dread i feel about that category gets proven right way too often. it’s just like. this is not truscum this is not misgendering this is not misogyny. this is not about me decreeing that all transmascs have to be manly enough or dysphoric enough and all nbs have to be neatly agender and androgynous or something, i’m especially not saying that nb gender isn’t real lmao or even that it’s automatically wrong to partially identify with your asab; this is not me saying you can only medically transition for specific traditional reasons or that you don’t get a say on anything if you aren’t medically transitioning for whatever reason, now or ever. i just. want to be allowed to be frank about how... when there’s different experiences in a community we should like. acknowledge those differences and be willing to say that sometimes people don’t know what they’re talking about or that what they’re saying is harmful. without the primary concern being whether people will feel invalidated by being told so. because these are like, real issues, that are more important than politely including everyone, because that method is just getting vulnerable people drowned out constantly.

#source on much of this: existing as a transmasc on tumblr for years and years.#i stopped identifying as any sort of 'woman-aligned' pretty much right before the ridiculous 'all afabs are dysphoric' stuff #but it sure did still make me hate myself and feel like a silly cowardly ugly little girl for wanting to transition!#and back when i WAS a she/they i definitely was falling for 'men are bad maleness is bad always inherently :)' rhetoric #not in the modern form outlined above but in the like. brainlessly parroted from 'baeddel tumblr' form #which was still like 'you can escape being a Bad Person by either becoming or admitting you are a girl :)'#and the only acknowledgment of trans men in this ideology was like. 'well i guess they feel like they have to do that :\'#'too bad for them. im not saying they shouldnt transition but you know. men suck though <3'#it was bad for me it was bad for other people so im saying from experience. Fucking cut it out! the end

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jcfoxington · 3 years

Text

@sambambucky : “pls... Pastels, Peaches and Pain??? among us first draft??? marvel meets warframe meets a bunch of tumblr posts (it’s not an au!?!??!)

hi jo !!! Pastels, Peaches, and Pain is one of those sambucky wips i have mostly fully fleshed out in my head because of one (1) extreme moment of clarity after a rogue ‘what if’ tangent thought but havent written anything of yet out of restraint / knowing i need to finish at least one of my current sambucky wips before i start it or none of them will get done

this was the rogue tangent thought: “what if Sam is haunted by Figaro’s ghost and has been since he was a kid?”. i’ve changed the ghost cat to not be Figaro but that’s the premise !

i refer to the fic as the cat fic ‘cause the whole plot is based around sam’s ghost cat companion insisting he adopts nat’s cat Liho after endgame and then Figaro later and then [insert redacted because plot spoilers but just know it relates to Alpine]. no im not projecting my feelings about cats idk what youre talking about

here’s some note snippets just for you:

the cat, inexplicably, takes a liking to bucky, which is really annoying bc sam doesnt know how to explain to him that all the oddly soft gusts of wind are actually sam's dead cat insisting on getting pats

bucky getting shade thrown at him by said ghost cat during all of tfatws + them making up (and not out. yet)

starts when sam's a kid & follows him as he grows up w/ a ghost kitty as a companion only he can see & interact with + angst with an undertone of comedy + getting together

he whispers to ghost kitty, who simply mmrrs happily

for the among us first draft thing, what basically happened is i saw this tweet and this video and my brain latched onto these dynamics so hard i had to write about them.

here’s a sketch of my two main imposters, Black (left) and Cyan (right):

and here’s a snippet:

The thing having Cyan pause and stare out at the asteroid field is how the colors stretch to family. When they and Black came aboard, they had thought every crewmember was an adult working on the planet-change project. That the patch of off-white with a black something-pattern-or-shape signified status. In a way, Cyan supposes it does, but just not the way they expected. They had expected it to show what rank an individual held within the hierarchy of the crew, from deckhand to division leader to captain, not to show that you're family of the crew and not actually part of the crew itself.

There are innocents on this ship. Children. It was not something any of them had anticipated, and not something Cyan had been prepared to deal with. They and Black boarded this horrible place to eradicate a threat, believing each and single one of the humans were accomplishes and dedicated to the goal of destroying Cyan and Black's species, and their planet. But, now?

marvel meets warframe meets a bunch of tumblr posts... doesn’t have a wip title or seperate document for itself yet cause it’s been stuck in my ‘story ideas’ document since its creation. so ‘marvel meets warframe meets a bunch of tumblr posts’ is literally just me describing the vibe of an original world gjkerfkds

the world came to be for two reasons. firstly, i want to do make take on a superhero universe because the plot and complete lack of communication in both the dcu and mcu piss me the fuck off. secondly, needed a place to dump ocs with elaborate backstories or fantasy / sci-fi abilities that dont fit into any of my existing worlds

which sounds super competent but trust me, it isn’t. it didn’t gain any solidity at all until i decided to do a personal ‘how different can i make spn castiel look & still retain the same vibe?’ challenge. i have my own cas now

however, the reason i said ‘marvel meets...’ is because i’ve snagged a couple of different things from the mcu, most notably: enemies to reluctant coworkers to lovers, yes our best friend have the same name. no they’re not the same person, secret evil org is controlling the government, and the assassin that tried to kill you several times is now your best friend

warframe was added to the world because i got attached to my Volt build, gave them a name, and have some headcanons idk what to do with because i refuse to interact with that fandom. also because the friend i made through discussing warframe lore + plot dicked me over so it feels Bad to create for

the glue to this whole mess is that one “in every friend group there’s a mean bisexual, an even meaner lesbian, a she/they, a he/they, a himbo, an astrology bitch, a short king, and a token straight” tumblr post. my main group of superheroes ala the avengers consist of these people. the token straight is the only one i havent figured out who is yet

ever since i figured that out ive been throwing story / character ideas and weirdly specific aesthetics from popular tumblr posts into this world’s notes. here’s some examples:

sword grandmas

that trope where someone’s really nice and acts super well-adjusted to society but then they do something super whack and dangerous and you realize ‘oh they’re secretly a little bit insane, actually’

anti-gay group’s leader’s wife leaves him for another woman

superhero who swore to be the best hero [city / planet / solar system / continent / ????] has ever seen ever since he lost his wife. not because she’s dead but divorce just sucks & the hero-to-be is terrible at coping

dishevelled swamp witch

that one person who runs around with an amulet all the time & isn’t aware it’s cursed

an exasperated, tired superhuman assassin running after their husband and their husband's best friend. their husband and said husband's best friend both have wings. chaos ensues (yes, this one is a sambucky post)

ask me about my WIPs!

BONUS:

@sambambucky : #i want to have a coffee and listen to synopses of all of these.... #i miss the discord wow #WRITING TAG #waitttt time jumping dream movie? lmao I'VE READ THIS LIST FORTY TIMES and every time i rediscover something i wanna know about #outfit doodlesss ugh i need to go

couldnt not respond to your tags because they make me go ghrkjfnerknf but in the good way. we miss you too jo !!

the time jumping dream movie was one of the first vivid dreams i had and the whole thing was so stupidly coherent and whacky i had to write it down. it grew plot, a queer love dynamic, weird sci-fi apocalypse elements, anti-military propaganda, questionable science, and a sequel while i wasnt looking and now i just. have to make it a real movie or i’ll combust

outfit djoodlles.png is only on there because my best friend sent me a ‘draw this outfit’ meme and space kitty, my current character brainrot, stole all the outfits for himself. otherwise, that file just sits there until im feeling like designing an outfit or wanna see how a stupid thing looks on my oc patrick

here’s one of the two poses-to-doodle-outfits-on of space kitty ive made so far:

and here’s one of those stupid things on patrick (that then turned into an actual outfit of his because i have no self control):

#.jax speaks #.my art #.my writing #tysm for the interest jo !!!#if you have literally any questions or if youre serious about the synposes thing...#i love rambling abt my stupid brain people #i WILL answer all your questions #even if the answer is 'good question! ive got no clue'#.patrick mortensen #.space kitty #.pastels peaches and pain #.the among us thing #.marvels meets warframe meets tumblr posts #.time jumping dream movie

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scottymcgeesterwrites · 3 years

Text

Final Fantasy VII Review

Year: 1997

Original Platform: PlayStation One

Also available on: PC, PlayStation Store

Version I Played: PlayStation One

Synopsis:

The Shinra Electric Power Company rules over the city of Midgar, and the eco-terrorists AVALANCHE stop at nothing to try and prevent the life essence of the planet from being used as energy. Barrett, leader of AVALANCHE, hires a mercenary named Cloud Strife for their bombing mission on a Shinra Mako Reactor. Cloud doesn’t care much for the greater cause and only wants his pay. But then, after a mission goes awry, he meets Aerith, a flower girl who is the descendant of the Ancients. He quickly finds himself wrapped up in the greater conflict against Shinra.

Gameplay:

Final Fanatasy VII utilizes magic spells via Materia – little orbs that come in a variety of colors pertaining to the natural elements. You can mix and match them on your weapons and equipment, which gives you access to different spells and stats. All your equipment varies with the number of slots for how many Materia orbs you can put in. Leveling up not only upgrades the character but the equipped Materia as well.

Final Fantasy VII also uses an ATB system but is known for introducing Limit Breaks – finishing moves that build up after the character gets hit over time. Final Fantasy VI had a prototype called Desperation Attack – but it was very rare as it only appeared when your character had 1/8 of their total HP, and there was a 1 in 6 chance of performing the Desperation Attack after selecting Attack. I actually had no idea that was a thing until long after I finished the game, and never experienced it when I played Final Fantasy VI.

Graphics:

Out of all the Final Fantasy games, I have to say that this one has not aged well. It has the worst graphics of the entire series. The battle and cinematic graphics are passable.

(Most of the graphics power seemed to be put in Tifa’s, uh, bosom.)

But the characters in towns, the overworld, and in-game cutscenes are incredibly blocky. PC versions are supposedly sharper, but the PlayStation One version makes it nigh impossible to see any facial expressions.

The graphics are definitely a product of its time. I always say that the beginning of 3D gaming was essentially like puberty – awkward and full of zits. It wasn’t yet at that stage where it could be aesthetically pleasing. We marveled about it when it was first released, yes, but then we cringed in retrospect.

The environment backdrops however are probably the strongest points, where they capture the industrial nature of Midgar, the reactors and other such buildings.

Story:

Final Fantasy VII became legendary the minute Square released it. Every aspect was memorable. Part of it could be due to the fact that it was the first Final Fantasy game to enter the 3D realm. Another part was Tetsuya Nomura’s character designs, which hit the cool meter to the point of sub-zero.

The cinematics blew our minds. The opening action scene with Cloud, Barrett, and the rest of AVALANCHE attacking Shinra’s mako reactor is the most memorable opening to a Final Fantasy game. Period. Final Fantasy games really do know how to start at the right spot, no matter how good or bad the overall game is. The opening is always the best part.

Then there was the motorcycle chase. Cid’s airship. The gun fights. Battles with Sephiroth. The extra stuff to find, like summons and extra bosses. So much was jam-packed into the game.

But the story was the primary factor in making VII famous. It’s definitely one of the better ones. Man, the story became so famous that even gamers who haven’t touched a Final Fantasy game knew the major spoilers. It is the equivalent to knowing Darth Vader’s line, “I am your father” without having actually watched Star Wars.

Aerith (Aeris in the English releases) Gainsborough – the innocent flower girl who holds the secrets of the Ancients – develops a romance with Cloud and fucking dies at the end of Disc 1 by the main villain – Sephiroth. The scene shocked everyone and practically made headlines. Everybody has seen the horrible image in one way or another.

It seems to me that since Final Fantasy V, the stories have gotten more and more used to main character deaths, ultimately transforming into a heavy-hitting TV series rather than simply a video game series. In other words – it matured. Looking back, Final Fantasy IV appears to be child’s play and a prototype of later dramatic storylines with fully realized worlds.

Final Fantasy VII was also the first Final Fantasy game to create a world much like ours – one with cars and trains and airplanes and machine guns and even cellphones. The main city of Midgar reflects industrialization at its worst, with miles of slums and claustrophobic cities. Shinra Electric Power Company is a reflection of capitalism at its worst - a single entity in charge of so much that it’s pretty much the government. For the first time in a Final Fantasy game, you play as characters who dance between the morally ambiguous line of terrorism and activism. Funny enough, the theme of neglecting the planet resonates with us now more than ever. This game ended up being rather prophetic about the uncontrollable growth of corporations.

While the story is memorable with many intriguing elements, the plot itself is a tangled web. In my opinion, they really hashed in so many things that it’s easy to forget crucial details. It’s not straightforward, but at the same time everything does connect by the end. While Shinra is the driving force as a whole as the villain, Sephiroth takes over, then you learn about his backstory and then with the evil scientist Hojo and the extra-terrestrial Jenova and then “Weapon” and then the planet’s history and this and that and the other thing.

If I were to put Final Fantasy VI and Final Fantasy VII together and contrast them, as many gamers do, I would find that Final Fantasy VII is the summer blockbuster and Final Fantasy VI is the Oscar winner. Final Fantasy VII started introducing the sappy romance subplot to the series. A love triangle forms among Aerith, Cloud, and Cloud’s childhood friend Tifa. While there’s nothing inherently wrong with having a love triangle, the writing is like watching middle schoolers trying to express their feelings. Final Fantasy VI and Final Fantasy IV treated any romance with dignity and realism.

But maybe I’m being a bit harsh. After all, Cloud Strife did go through some suffering as an adolescent. His backstory clearly drives his antisocial behavior, so that becomes a good arc.

The goofiest but memorable part of the story deals with Don Corneo and Wall Market and running around store to store doing tasks in order to free Tifa from Don Corneo. It ends with Cloud needing to cross-dress as a woman to get inside Don’s mansion. Because, you know, it’s not like Cloud can just break in with his sword and Aerith’s magic or anything like that. But whatever. It’s anime.

The recent Final Fantasy VII Remake for the PS4 seems to streamline the story, and actually enhances the emotions they were trying to deliver in the original. I will be talking about the remake in a separate post altogether since I’m almost done with it at the time of this writing. But there’s a lot that I want to say about comparing and contrasting the remake and the original.

The latter half of the plot takes a couple weird turns. At one point, Cloud became catatonic and confined to a wheelchair.

That part of the game became the sluggish part for me. Sephiroth also tries to confuse Cloud, which confused me. Cloud apparently suffers from some alternate subconscious mumbo-jumbo and like. . .ungh. I get an aneurysm thinking about it sometimes.

Complicated plotlines like Final Fantasy VII start showing up from here on out in the Final Fantasy series. The trend of bishonen characters also begin here, bishonen being the Japanese term for “beautiful boy.” Cloud and Sephiroth have that look. The series starts hashing in sappier romances and much more of an anime feel.

Final Fantasy VII ultimately marked the start of a new era for the series – introducing both cool and overused tropes.

Music:

Hands down the best Final Fantasy soundtrack of all.

The entire soundtrack of this game is memorable. The opening tune, with its light twinkle when the stars show up, is enough to make any gamer know exactly what that’s from.

With a story set in a more modern world, we have music that is more modern. After Final Fantasy VI had a more serious and operatic score, Uematsu displayed his love of progressive rock here. The motorcycle chase incorporates a lot of synth, which was fitting for zipping through the streets of Midgar. However, Final Fantasy VII is the first Final Fantasy game without that familiar starting bassline for the battle them. The battle theme is instantly recognizable but also radically different from its predecessors. It’s dramatic and displays danger.

Meanwhile, the boss theme is one of the best boss themes in the series, or any video game really. It’s an electrifying progressive rock piece, and it’s my personal favorite boss theme.

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The more instrumental pieces are somber, given the dreary atmosphere of the planet. The world map music is very different from its predecessors. It’s romantic one moment, soaring the next, and then dips into foreboding terror. I guess that sums up the story of Final Fantasy VII.

And we cannot leave out One-Winged Angel, which I will talk about below.

Notable Theme:

Without a doubt, One-Winged Angel – played during the terrifying final battle against Sephiroth – is the most memorable piece of music in Final Fantasy VII.

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It may very well be the most popular song of the entire series. Nobuo Uematsu was inspired by Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring. It’s a whopping 30 something minute classical piece. If you look it up on YouTube and browse through it, you can definitely note the similarities. However, Uematsu didn’t want some boring classical introduction to the piece. He wanted to add the destructive impact of rock. The theme has a very distinct stamping-your-foot-down quality to it.

I had noticed a certain piece-by-piece feel of the song and that’s exactly how Uematsu composed it. This is the only song that Uematsu has composed where he created several tunes in his head and then rearranged them to make a single comprehensive song.

If you want to get technical, One-Winged Angel is the first Final Fantasy song with lyrics. The chorus sings in Latin about Sephiroth’s burning anger, with some lyrics actually taken from the medieval poem Carmina Burana. It sounds fantastic when fully orchestrated.

In Advent Children, the animated sequel to Final Fantasy VII, the music is accompanied by hardcore metal. This new rendition really illustrates the destructive power of Sephiroth. Uematsu changed the lyrics for Advent Children. They are more original now. I specifically noticed the lyrics “Veni, veni, mi fili”, which translates to “Come, come, my son.” Sephiroth is inviting you so he can kill you.

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Uematsu has stated that the original orchestration didn’t sit well with him. As I suspected, Advent Children’s hardcore metal version is the one he preferred, the one he would have composed had he the technology at the time of Final Fantasy VII.

Verdict:

Another must-play for any RPG fan, even if you think it’s overrated. It’s a must-play because of its popularity, in the same way that people are wide-eyed when you say you haven’t seen Star Wars or such-and-such other popular movie. It’s a whole lot of fun, especially in the scenes that involve other forms of gameplay, such as the motorcycle chase and even a battlefield strategy game in protecting Fort Condor.

Direct Sequel?

Yes – first there was the CGI movie Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children.

I actually watched Advent Children before playing Final Fantasy VII. I had already known most of what happened in the game and Advent Children became a monumental craze when it first came out. Everybody was talking about it. Watching the sequel before playing the game skewers your interpretation of things. My first impression of Cloud was that he was always whiny and angsty, and meanwhile Tifa kept nagging him to move on. I felt really bad for Cloud losing Aerith.

Then when I actually played Final Fantasy VII, I saw that Cloud starts as this badass mercenary. Tifa is spunky and clearly is the better choice (IMO) but Cloud is enamored by Aerith after only meeting her briefly. WHAT? Cloud. Bro. Make a move on Tifa, you nitwit. Tifa is AMAZING.

Square Enix then continued the story with Dirge of Cerberus – Final Fantasy VII. This video game sequel focuses on Vincent Valentine, a fan favorite of the original game.

Let me remind you about something – the original game revealed Shinra’s inner deep secret experiments, namely with Sephiroth and Jenova. Dirge of Cerberus introduces an even deeper research team within Shinra called Deepground. I don’t know about you, but it already sounds like the start of a terribly redundant string of sequels, like how the Jason Bourne movies keep revealing an even deeper level of conspiracy theories. Vincent’s mysterious background is now fully revealed. He is defined by – guess what? – another angsty lost lover story, this time with a woman named Lucrecia. Now, okay, look, maybe I’m just being a dick about these types of love stories. But when it keeps popping up within the same series in the same manner, I start asking if you have anything else to offer on your menu.

Lastly, there is the prequel for the PSP – Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII. Of all the games in the Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core has received the most positive reception. If anything, play that after playing Final Fantasy VII before bothering with anything else.

Oh, and of course there is the Final Fantasy VII Remake, which we thought wasn’t going to happen for the longest time but they finally released it in April 2020. More on that later after I finish it, and after I post my entire series of Final Fantasy reviews!

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trash-king13 · 5 years

Note

shinsou, kirishima, bakugou and todoroki becoming kids (like 5 or 6 year old) again and the reaction of their s/o?

I am a huge sucker for the deaging trope! Though I only accept 3 characters at a time so I decided to take out Kirishima sadly. I hope you enjoy.

Order Up!Hitoshi Shinsou

🍆The two of you were just walking to a nearby cafe when a villain attack occurred, and of course the villain had a quirk that turned people into children. So here you were trying to coax your now five year old boyfriend from his hiding space under a nearby car.

🍆“Its ok honey I wont hurt you I swear.” he was not budging, and instead opted to curl up and start crying into his knees - this was going badly fast. Though thankfully Aizawa happened to be the hero on duty today, and he was somewhat willing to help you coax the tiny Eraserhead fanboy out of hiding.

🍆“Bye bye Eraserhead!” the now cheery toddler was waving at his hero from his spot in your arms, and oh my god he was too cute! Even Aizawa had gotten a few pics of him on his phone before sending you two on your way. Though his words were still echoing in your head as the reality of what just happened just sunk in. You were responsible for a five year old Hitoshi for a whole day. You were terrified.

🍆Thankfully Hitoshi was not a hard kid to take care of. He was quiet, and preferred to color over any loud activities. Though he had a habit of going into a panic attack after each little mistake, and you would be lying if you said it didn’t kill you to see him like that. Who would ever do something so horrible to such a sweet child after all? If you ever found the person responsible they would have hell to pay.

🍆He finally got more comfortable with you once the day began coming to a close, and he even openly sang a little song about you while in the bath (though he couldn’t seem to pronounce your name right for the life of him). Though once it was time for bed it was practically impossible to get Hitoshi to sleep alone in the guest room. He just wouldn’t settle down as choked out several “please let me sleep with you!” between his sobs. So what else were you supposed to do except let him sleep with you?

🍆When morning had come around you had completely forgotten the events from yesterday. So when you rolled over by habit you were surprised to feel another occupant in your bed, and even more surprised to learn that it was a now teenage Hitoshi. He chuckled and then lightly poked your forehead “morning sleepy head, or maybe I should calling you number one babysitter.” oh god he knew. You expected him to tease you more, but he only got up from his spot to grab your phone from the bedside table. “Better tell Aizawa sensei he better delete those pictures.”

With a side of!Katsuki Bakugou

🌶Bakugou pisses everyone off, it’s pretty much a given by this point. You have known him throughout his whole life and that aspect of him has never changed, but as you stared at the crying child with all too familiar blonde hair you wished your childhood friend could just stop being a dick. Especially to people with deaging quirks! It had taken you a good hour to get the sobbing child to cooperate, and you were only able to do it by bribing him with ice cream. You were definitely not cut out for babysitting.

🌶“I want to ride on your shoulders!” he was sweetly trotting beside you as you decided to deliver him to his family, and he was doing fine opting to just excitedly babble to you. Though you learned to not let the cute looks fool you, Bakugou was still a demon no matter what side. “No” cue a tantrum so explosive it would put teen Bakugou to shame, definitely not meant to be a babysitter.

🌶You now had him riding on your shoulders, Bakugou messing with your hair as he talked on about god knows what. He then tapped your head “hey oldie! You look like my friend!” oh, you should of been expecting this. “Oh really? You two close?” you decided to just ignore the old part of his comment. He hummed in satisfaction before continuing “yeah were the best team!” he scrunched up his face in discomfort “though they are also friends with Deku so I need to grow up fast so I can marry them before he can!” wait, what!? You could feel your face heat up as he continued singing about what your wedding was going to be like.

🌶“No! I want you to stay!” you dropped him off to his parents like you said you would, but now the little monster was clinging to your leg refusing to let you leave. Mitsuki could only sigh at her snot dripping kid. “How about you just stay the night, I can even call your parents and explain the situation if you’d like?” Not like you had a choice.

🌶You and tiny Bakugou were now drawing in the living room, and it was pretty relaxing until he shoved a drawing of what looked to be two people in your face. He only got angry at your confused expression. “It’s the wedding! Like I was telling you about!” oh god was he really still stuck on this? You know what screw it you’re recording this as blackmail! “That’s me and them when you do the kissy thing that adults do. These are our super powerful kids! Their quirks will be so powerful that the whole world will die!” actually this may just be the best day ever.

🌶When morning came you found a certain someone glaring at you in the kitchen. He only had to say three words for you to get the point “you tell noone.”

And for dessert! Shoto Todoroki

🍧You were suppose to be pursuing a villain, but a certain someone decided to run ahead therefore ending up in this situation. The moment you saw a pair of confused heterochromatic eyes looking around you knew you were in for a wild ride.

🍧“Alright let’s get you back to your parents little guy.” you tried reaching down to pick him up but he dodged. “no! I don’t want to go home to daddy he hits me!” he looked so terrified that it made your stomach churn. You were going to kill Endeavour!

🍧You had decided to bring Shoto back with you instead, and he seemed pretty content exploring your domain. Letting out a small gasp when he found something particularly interesting. He was too damn cute for your soul! “Hey Shoto! What would you like for dinner?” he looked at you with a very thoughtful expression before answering “Soba, b-but not the hot kind.” you laughed, but at least it was something you could make.

🍧How can a singular child be so cute at everything he does? He was making a complete mess while eating, but he still looked like a precious angel. You were shook. “Here lets clean your face.” the little boy smiled as you wiped off all the excess soba from his chubby cheeks “when I grow up all big and strong can I marry you?” oh no. “uh we will see.” his eyes were literally sparkling as he continuously mumbled “im gonna get married!”

🍧The two of you then winded down with a story, but Shoto fell asleep before the story even ended. You didn’t have the heart to move him so you thought it was fine to let him sleep in your bed tonight. “Good night Shoto, sweet dreams.” He looked so peaceful, and you wished to see him like that more.

🍧The next morning you were awoken by what sounded like cooking, and that’s when you remembered last night. You rushed to the kitchen to find Shoto wearing a pair of your sweatpants, and cooking some eggs. The moment he spotted you he gave the warmest smile you had ever seen him give, and motioned for you to sit. “I wanted to thank you for taking care of me yesterday so I made you eggs. I can’t promise that they’re any good though. I should probably learn if I’m going to marry you like I said.”

#shinsou hitoshi #bakugou katsuki #ground zero #shouto todoroki #shoto #bnha

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goldenraeofsun · 4 years

Text

Would you have me, would you want me?

Part I Part II Part III

Part IV - complete

Castiel jumps at the sound of voices outside.

“Will we get in trouble if we’re caught in here?” he asks in a hushed voice.

Dean snorts. “Who cares. It’s not like we’re doing anything illegal in here. Just hanging out.”

Castiel bites his lip and gets to his feet. “If we’re only talking, then I suppose we should move to more sanctioned areas.”

“Sure, if you wanna be a total spoilsport about it,” Dean says, but he hops off the table and stretches his arms above his head. “Christ, I can’t believe my back hurts already.” He shoots Castiel a look. “Don’t tell my kids that. They already think I’m an old man.”

“If they think you act older than your age, I don’t want to know what they would think of me,” Castiel says mildly. He pushes his chair back under the table and starts for the door.

“They’d probably be hot for teacher.”

Castiel freezes in his tracks. He spins on his heels to stare at Dean. “Excuse me?”

Dean has the grace to look away. “What?” he says defensively. “The past ten years have treated you good, ‘s all I’m saying.”

“I - thank you?” Castiel says, taken aback.

Dean shoulders past him, saying brusquely, “Forget I said anything.”

Castiel doesn’t move he reaches out to grab Dean’s shoulder, thinks better about it, and calls instead, “Wait, Dean.”

Dean turns around, his face resigned. “What?”

“Why did you do this?” he asks, gesturing around the library. “Help me, I mean.”

“I told you, I owed you,” Dean says, but he won’t meet Castiel’s eyes. He looks like one of Castiel’s students. Like Alfie when Castiel caught him texting during class, or Ambriel when she forgot to do the reading.

“I don’t think that’s the whole story,” Castiel says evenly. “It’s been ten years, you could have let things lie between us.”

“But that’s just it,” Dean says, frustrated, “I can’t. I tried. Man, I tried so freaking hard.”

Castiel sucks in a breath, mind whirring. Dean had thought about him more than a few times over the past decade? Why?

“I was-” Castiel starts before breaking off into a different direction, “Dean, it was one night. One night together and a couple months of the cold shoulder. That’s it.”

Dean shakes his head. “Not for me, it wasn’t,” he says bitterly. “You have no idea.”

“Then tell me,” Castiel says, his tone brooking no argument.

Dean sighs. “I was so hung up on you. You were … so yourself. Doing your own thing, not giving a shit about what anyone else thought about you. And when I heard you were the one tutoring my sorry ass, well, I thought I was the luckiest son of a bitch in school.”

Castiel’s mouth falls open.

“And then I got to know you,” Dean says, his green eyes trained on Castiel’s face with an intensity he’s never seen before, “and you got along with Sam, and it was everything I’d ever wanted.”

“That can’t be true,” Castiel says, his voice shaking. “You left me. You left me there, in a house full of strangers. If that was how you really felt, how could you do that?”

* * *

Cas jumps at the sound of voices outside.

The movement jostles the drips of semen on his stomach, and Cas grimaces in disgust. At some point after he’d orgasmed but before he jerked Dean off, they’d both lost their shirts. But he isn’t cold, not with them lying skin to glorious bare skin.

“Fuck,” Dean swears, his eyes going wide. He jumps off the bed.

“What are you-” is all Cas can get out before Dean begins throwing clothing at him.

“I’ll lead ‘em off.” Dean hops on one foot, yanking his pants up.

“Dean-”

“What?” Dean asks distractedly.

“I - we should talk.”

“Talk?” Dean freezes in place, shirt rumpled and cheeks red. “About what?”

“About what happened between us,” Cas says hesitantly.

Dean looks away. “I - sure - maybe. We were just letting off steam, right?”

Heart sinking in his chest, Cas nods. Yes, he desperately wanted to get off with Dean. But it was also so much more than that.

“I should really let them know…” Dean jerks his head towards the door and the people right outside.

“Yes, of course,” Cas says quickly. “We’ll talk after?”

Dean gives a funny little spasm that might be a nod.

Cas leans over to root around in the nightstand for tissues or anything to dry himself off. He settles for his briefs, a little damp anyway with precome. As he stands up to shove his legs into his jeans, Dean, already fully clothed, leaves without a word.

Numbly, Cas folds up his briefs and shoves them in his back pocket.

The voices outside get louder.

Vaguely, Cas can make out Dean telling the group he had to puke, and the downstairs bathroom was occupied. Cue the laughter.

The voices fade.

Dean does not return.

* * *

Castiel waits.

Dean shoves his hands in his pockets. “I didn’t think you’d care.”

“What?”

“You’d always taken care of yourself just fine,” Dean says, the barest undercurrent of heat in his words. “You never needed me.”

Castiel’s mouth opens and closes before he says, “We were friends. Did that mean nothing to you?”

“Of course not!” Dean hisses. “But we were both drunk and horny and, you told me yourself, you’d never done anything like that before - so forgive me for thinking you wouldn’t want anything to do with me when you’d gotten what you wanted!”

“That’s…” Castiel drifts off, at a loss for words at the sheer magnitude of Dean’s fallible logic. He runs a hand down his face. “I can’t believe it.”

"And when you said you wanted to talk," Dean continues, head shaking, "Well, I know how your head works. You were gonna make me go over everything that happened in that bedroom, pick it apart so you could have more facts to store in that big brain of yours." He takes a step back, eyes darting everywhere but at Castiel. “Well, this has been enough reminiscing about the glory days for one night. I’m gonna head out. Try to forget any of this ever happened. Have a nice life, Cas.”

“Dean,” Castiel grinds out, “Wait one moment.”

“Yeah, no can do,” Dean says quickly, his face one shade away from terrified, “I have an important appointment-”

“I waited for you for a full hour at Tessa’s house,” Castiel says coldly. “You could grant me at least a minute.”

Chastened, Dean shifts his weight to his other foot. He stares stonily down at the floor, hands shoved deep into his pockets.

“I thought you saw me as convenient,” Castiel says once he’s ready to speak, “so that’s why you chose to make your move. It seemed impossible you’d pick me for any other reason. I had heard you chose a new person to sleep with at every party.”

“What the hell?” Dean murmurs, his green eyes wide in the dim light filtering in through the front doors. “I mean, I did do that, but, Cas, that’s freaking nuts. Obviously you were different.”

“Because I was an awkward teenager with no friends,” Castiel asks, eyebrows raised. “You were the most popular boy in school. Everybody loved you.”

“I mean - debatable,” Dean says, rolling his eyes, “But none of them knew me like you did. You knew how screwed up my life was. How screwed up I was.”

“I could say the same for you,” Castiel points out.

Dean releases a breathy laugh. “I guess so.”

Castiel stares hard at Dean’s face, waiting for some sign of rejection as he takes a step forward, right into his personal space. “I came to the reunion hoping to run into you.”

“So you could finally let me have it after all these years?” Dean asks, only half-joking.

Castiel shakes his head. “I was hoping for some closure.”

Confused, Dean’s eyes narrow. “Happy to give it to you,” he says slowly, “Like I said, I’ve got shit to make up for.”

Castiel shores up his resolve. “Now I’m hoping for a date.”

* * *

Cas waits.

He isn’t sure for how long, but he feels the vibrations from the music downstairs change tempo several times. He doesn’t hear any more voices outside.

Feeling smaller than he has in his entire life, which is saying something, he creeps out of the room. He steals down the stairs, nearly tripping over his and Dean’s abandoned, empty cups.

He lingers on the threshold of Tessa’s house. Maybe Dean got side-tracked by something in the party. Maybe he really intended to come back to Cas. Maybe he is waiting for Cas to find him and prove his interest.

Too many “maybes” for Cas, who prefers to deal with cold, hard facts.

Fact #1: Dean never showed romantic interest in Cas before

Fact #2: Dean only made his advances known after several alcoholic drinks

Fact #3: Boys like Dean don’t fall for boys like Cas

Maybe Cas is just delusional.

Dean is probably with the rest of the partygoers, relaxed and happy with one orgasm under his belt, and looking for more before the night is over.

He can picture Dean’s face if Cas were to track him down: shocked and confused, a little angry Cas is clinging on even after their time together was clearly over.

Cas lets Tessa’s door slam behind him. He should never have come here.

A little squeak to his right nearly sends him jumping out of his skin.

“Cas?”

He squints. “Charlie?”

Her red hair flashes in the darkness as she pushes her bangs back from her face. “Hey, man. I didn’t think I’d see you here.”

��Same,” Cas says weakly. “I - ” He breaks off at the sound of a large sniffle. “Are you alright?”

“’M fine,” Charlie says, ducking her head so her hair falls back in front of her face. “I was getting,” her breath hitches, “some fresh air.”

“It is crowded in there,” Cas says, at a total loss for what to say. But he can’t leave her alone out here, clearly upset.

The worst thing is being alone.

He tries, “I - are you sure you’re alright?”

Charlie noisily sighs through her mouth. “What’s it to you?”

“You’re crying.”

Charlie flinches. “No shit, Sherlock.”

“I - is there anything I can do to help?” Cas asks.

“Unless you can convince Gilda to take me back, not really,” Charlie says, shoulders hunching as she crosses her arms over her chest and stares out at the empty street beyond. She sniffs. “Nobody meets their True Love in high school, or at least that’s what I’m trying to tell myself.”

“It is statistically unlikely,” Cas offers tentatively, “assuming true love exists as well.”

“You don’t believe in true love?”

Cas shakes his head. “Not anymore.”

Charlie turns to him, her eyes wide with surprise. “You too?”

Cas looks away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Uh huh,” Charlie says, and, impossibly, her mouth tips up into the smallest of smiles. “Come on, tell me about it. Misery loves company, right?”

Cas swallows past the lump forming in his throat. “I had my first kiss tonight.”

Charlie’s face falls. She takes a step closer and wraps her arms around him. She smells like a berry-scented shampoo and cheap vodka. “That’s rough, buddy.”

Frozen in shock, Cas doesn’t move. It takes an extra hard squeeze from Charlie to get him to return the hug. Once he does, he finds it strangely comforting.

He doesn’t know Charlie all that well, but in this strange liminal space outside the horror show of Tessa’s party, so far removed from his safe haven in the library, it is exactly what he needs.

Maybe making new friends isn’t as hard as Cas thought.

* * *

“You want... me ?” Dean asks.

“If you’ll have me,” Castiel says, nodding.

“But…” Dean says, looking more than a little lost, “We can’t?” He phrases it like a question.

Castiel tilts his head. “Why not?”

“Because,” Dean splutters, “our history!”

“Our history consists of mutual romantic interest and a few stupid teenage mistakes,” Castiel says evenly. “Hardly insurmountable. You clearly are still attracted to me. I can say the same of you.”

“C’mon, man,” Dean says - pleads, really, “With our baggage, it’ll never work out. It’s been ten years. We’ve changed.”

“I hope for the better,” Castiel says, his eyes narrowing. “Yes, you were a dick back then. But you were also my friend.”

Dean exhales an explosive sigh. “Are we really doing this?”

“If you don’t want to,” Castiel says, his stomach already clenching in anticipation, “I’m not going to force you.”

“No, no, of course I do,” Dean says quickly. “You doing anything now?”

“Other than attending my high school reunion?” Castiel asks with raised eyebrows. “No.”

“Great,” Dean says, his face breaking out into a wide smile. “I think we’ve both maxed out our free drinks a while ago, so what do you say to ditching this snoozefest early?”

“I don’t think I’ve ditched anything in my life,” Castiel says honestly.

Dean laughs and holds out his hand. “Christ, I don’t know how you survived without me.”

Castiel rolls his eyes as he gives Dean’s fingers a squeeze. “I’m starting to wonder about that myself.”

Instead of leading Castiel out of the library, Dean pulls him closer. “Wait a sec, I wanna try something.”

“What?”

But before Castiel can say another word, Dean’s mouth lands on top of his. His lips are warm and slightly dry, and wonderfully devoid of the taste of alcohol.

Castiel buries his hands in the loose material of Dean’s shirt, keeping him anchored in place as he opens his mouth to let Dean’s tongue slip inside. Butterflies take flight in his stomach, and he would probably float away if not for Dean’s steady hand resting on his waist.

Dean breaks the kiss first. But he makes no move to step away, letting his forehead rest against Castiel’s. They stand there, sharing breaths.

Dean breaks the silence. “I’ve always wanted to do that here.”

“You have?” Castiel asks, chuckling almost giddily. He feels, more than sees, Dean’s nod. Cas presses a barely-there kiss against Dean’s lips, whispering, “I’ve always wanted you to blow me under the desks, but at least we were able to satisfy one teenage fantasy today.”

Dean chokes with laughter. Eyes crinkled with the joy of his smile, he gestures to the tables. “I’m down if you are.”

Castiel looks askance at the door. “Maybe when there aren’t as many people to walk in on us. We aren’t even supposed to be here at all.”

Dean surreptitiously adjusts himself in his jeans. He scowls. “Then why torture me like that?”

Castiel shoots him a dry look as he heads for the exit. “Because you owe me, remember?”

“This is some effed up revenge plan you have,” Dean grumbles as he follows.

Castiel holds open the door. He eyes Dean critically. “You aren’t really bothered.”

“Tell that to the boner I popped in my pants like a teenager,” Dean retorts.

“I think it’s flattering.”

“I think you’re enjoying my pain,” Dean says under his breath as they pass the empty welcoming table and cross the threshold out of Edlund High.

“You caught me,” Castiel deadpans.

Dean swings his arm up to wrap around Castiel’s shoulders. He presses a smacking kiss to Castiel’s hair. “Man, I missed you.”

Castiel turns his head to see Dean properly. He’s gorgeous like this, standing under the faint twinkling of stars overhead, a wide grin adorning his face, his expressive eyes dancing with mirth.

“I missed you too, Dean.”

#destiel #destiel fanfic #fanfic #popular dean #loner castiel #hs au #high school reunion #teacher castiel #teacher dean #would you have me would you want me #complete #the story of us verse #rae writes fic

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richmond-rex · 4 years

Note

What do you think Henry VII remembers, if anything, of his other uncle Henry VI?

This is such an interesting question and something that I myself have been wondering, so thank you for providing me with the opportunity to expand my thoughts on here 🌹

We know that Henry VII only ever saw his uncle King Henry VI once during his life, when he was 13 years old. However, I’d argue King Henry must have caused quite a great impression on him, and considering Henry Tudor was old enough at that time, also a profoundly lasting one. So far young Henry Earl of Richmond had been living as a ward of his uncle Jasper’s enemies, the Herberts. By 1470 his old guardian, William Herbert, had been executed, and then, as the Earl of Warwick changed sides and brought about Henry VI’s readeption, Henry Tudor was returned to his uncle Jasper who took him to London to meet King Henry VI. That Jasper felt like acquainting his nephew with his brother denotes a special degree of closeness and advocates for his idea of family, in my opinion.

According to André, Henry VII’s court poet and self-styled regius historiographus, on 27 October 1470 Henry VI held ‘a splendid feast with the nobles and best men of the kingdom’ to commemorate his return to the throne. As the king was washing his hands, young Richmond was brought to his presence, and according to André, ‘the king prophesied that someday the boy would undertake the governance of the kingdom and would have all things under his own power.’ Polydore Vergil, a historian that began his service under Henry VII in 1506, wrote in his Three Books that in that 1470 meeting ‘the king... is reported to have said:’

“This truly, this is he unto whom both we and our adversaries must yield and give over the dominion.”

It seems not even Vergil lends much credence to this tale as expressed by his choice of words: reported to have said. As expected, this myth has largely been viewed as Tudor propaganda and indeed the episode has been immortalised in Shakespeare’s Henry VI part III. In the play, King Henry VI meets a toddler Henry Richmond (then escorted by Somerset), calls him ‘England’s hope’, and says Richmond was ‘Likely in time to bless a regal throne’. Given that King Henry VI had his own son Prince Edward as his heir at the time, it seems unlikely he would ever have said such a thing. However, if anything remotely close to that happened, then I agree with Leanda de Lisle in saying that it must have been King Henry VI taking Henry Tudor to be his own son Edward, who thanks to his imprisonment in the Tower he had not seen for five years (and would not ever see again). It’s absurdly sad to think King Henry VI would confound his nephew with his son but arguably also not out of the realm of possibility. We don’t know if Henry Tudor saw his uncle King Henry again, but it’s also not unlikely that he, his mother and uncle Jasper stayed at court for the feast of All Hallows’ (1 November) and All Souls’ Day (2 November).

If King Henry VI ever made such prophecy, wittingly or not, then it must have greatly impacted on Henry Tudor. Henry VII believed to have been chosen by God to, against all odds, become king of England. He once wrote about ‘the crown which it has pleased God to give us with the victory over our enemy at our first field’. Henry Tudor was reported to be very pious—he made pilgrimages to the shrine of St Thomas Becket at Canterbury every Easter, as well as frequent pilgrimages to the shrine of Our Lady of Walsingham and donations to the shrine of St Vincent Ferrer in Brittany. He also founded the cult of the Breton saint St Armel in England and boosted the teachings of St Francis by his patronage of the Franciscan order. He especially favoured the Observants (the Franciscans, also known as the Greyfriars), granting them annuities for the establishment of monasteries in England and abroad. It seems he also favoured staying at religious houses when travelling or going on progress around the kingdom.

Most importantly, Henry VII held a singular devotion to the Virgin Mary and his adoption of the red rose as his personal symbol—aside from dynastic reasons—had everything to do with the religious connotations of that flower. Henry VII could have associated himself with his uncle Henry VI by adopting his antelope badge, for example, but instead, he chose the five-petal flower associated with the Virgin Mary and the Passion of Christ. The Franciscans were noted for their devotion to the Passion, and Henry VII had come in contact with the Observants during his exile in Brittany. The rose had five petals like the five wounds of Christ—St Bernard of Clairvaux once stated: “As many wounds as there are on the Saviour’s body, so many roses are there! Look at His feet and His hands; do you not see roses?”

Forgive me for still going on a tangent about it, but Henry VII’s personal devotion to the Virgin Mary and the doctrine of her Immaculate Conception is exemplified in his Book of Hours, where a miniature shows a figure representing the king kneeling at a prayer desk before a vision of the Virgin as a baby held by her mother, St Anne (or, alternatively, The Virgin and the Child Jesus). His devotion to the Virgin was also highlighted in his rebuilding of the Lady Chapel (now Henry VII’s Chapel) at Westminster Abbey which I will return to in a moment.

I’m not sure but I think it was Vergil who reported Henry VII as having said that religion was his ‘continual refuge’ during exile. His piety has been largely attributed to the influence of his mother Margaret Beaufort, herself also a very pious woman. But given how many years—and formative years those were—they spent apart, I imagine that Henry must have looked up to someone closer to him at the time, namely his uncle Jasper Tudor. We know that after the death of Catherine of Valois Jasper and his brother Edmund were raised by nuns at Barking Abbey, and that then at some point they joined King Henry VI’s court. According to John Blacman, Henry VI’s biographer and chaplain writing in 1485:

[…] and like pains did [Henry VI] apply in the case of his half-brothers, the Lords Jasper and Edmund, in their boyhood and youth; providing for them most strict and safe guardianship, putting them under the care of virtuous and worthy priests, both for teaching and for right living and conversation, lest the untamed practices of youth should grow rank if they lacked any to prune them.

Blacman also claimed that the king personally protected his half-brothers from sexual temptation by keeping ‘careful watch through hidden windows of his chamber’ (yes, I know). Like his uncle King Henry VI, Henry VII would also set a court that ‘maintained the highest standards of sexual behaviour’. Indeed, Retha Warnicke made an extensive compilation of scandals during the first two Tudor reigns and not a single case of sexual misconduct was found to have taken place during Henry VII’s time, marking his court as a decidedly different one than Edward IV’s had been.

Going back to Henry VI’s supposed prophecy, his words surely must have acquired a great weight in Henry Tudor’s mind by 1483 when he made his bid to the English throne. By that time King Henry VI had become a popular saint in England and even though Edward IV had tried to have him modestly—and somewhat obscurely—buried in Chertsey Abbey, Surrey, people had started to flock to his grave. A peasant claimed that Henry VI helped him when he had a bean trapped in his ear, which only popped out after he prayed to the king. Painted images of King Henry VI began showing up in churches around the country, like this one at Barton in Norfolk:

One of King Henry VI’s most ardent devotees was Henry Tudor’s mother Margaret Beaufort (Jasper’s feelings towards the cult are unknown) who had met her kinsman when she was about nine years old. When King Henry VI allegedly offered her the option of remaining married to Suffolk’s son or be remarried to his brother Edmund, Margaret says St Nicholas came to her in a dream dressed as a bishop, telling her to choose Edmund. Again, if this story is true or not, we may never know, but Margaret told that to her confessor John (bishop, then saint) Fisher—why would a famously pious woman such as Margaret Beaufort lie to her own confessor, thus committing a sin? It might be that the events took a mystical turn in Margaret’s imagination as a young girl, but that she associated divine intervention to hers and her son’s fate, and likewise to King Henry VI’s proposal, is clear.

It seems Richard III tried to control King Henry VI’s ever-growing cult by moving Henry VI’s body from Chertsey Abbey to St George’s Chapel at Windsor, a place where visitors wouldn’t have easy access to the king. Nevertheless, when Henry VII came to the throne he wholeheartedly encouraged pilgrimages to the place. Henry VII launched an official campaign to have his uncle canonised, with several petitions to popes Innocent VIII, Alexander VI and Julius II. Henry also ordered the compilation of a book of miracles worked by his uncle, and a biography of Henry VI was published in 1500 claiming that Henry VI had been ever pious and chaste during his life, towards his queen never behaving ‘unseemly ... but with all conjugal honesty and gravity’. Henry VII planned to have the body of King Henry VI re-interred at the heart of the new Lady Chapel he was planning at Westminster Abbey.

However much Henry VII enjoyed good relations with the papacy, especially Pope Innocent VIII, his campaign to have his uncle King Henry VI canonised never came into fruition. Henry VII decided for him and his wife to be buried at his new Lady Chapel instead, next to the tomb of his grandmother Queen Catherine of Valois. In his will, he stated his wish for his body to be buried:

“in the Chapell where our said graunt Dame laye buried, the which Chapell we have begoune to buylde of newe, in the honour of our blessed Lady.”

That doesn’t mean Henry VII set aside the memory of his uncle King Henry VI. He employed the same man that was overseeing the construction of the Lady Chapel at Westminster, Reginald Bray, to continue the rebuilding of St George’s Chapel at Windsor set in motion by his predecessor Edward IV (it came to be informally known as the Bray Chapel). The modest thirteenth-century chapel of Edward the Confessor was expanded into a vast cathedral-like chapel where, importantly, Henry VI’s body was placed alongside a famous relic, the fragment of the True Cross (a reliquary known as the Cross of Gneth) and the bones of John Schorne (revered for curing gout and toothache).

We may argue that Henry VII’s campaign to have King Henry VI’s canonised was fundamentally political (much like Richard II’s campaign for Edward II) as many historians have done. King Henry VI as a saint, combined with his supposed prophecy, would successfully contribute to the image of Henry VII’s reign as one chosen by God. When we put Henry VII’s religious devotion into perspective, though, his efforts to have ‘the glorious King Henry’ canonised take another dimension—in fact, there’s no doubt that in Henry VII’s eyes God had intervened in his favour. Henry VII’s will also stated his wish for an image of himself to be placed in St Edward’s chapel at Westminster, depicting him returning to God and the Virgin Mary the circlet with which he had been crowned at the Battle of Bosworth.

This is me purely speculating, but I think that even though Henry VII only came in contact with King Henry VI once in his life, his half-uncle might have exercised a great influence on him through his uncle Jasper. Jasper seemed to have been genuinely attached to his brother Henry on a personal level as well as devoted to his political cause. If Henry VI’s saintly qualities had been enough to impress Margaret Beaufort, it is very likely that they might have impressed young Henry of Richmond as well.

#ask #nuingiliath #henry vii #henry vi #sorry for going on a tangent

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dispatched-a · 3 years

Text

——— BASICS! ♡

(PEN)NAME! ♡ lou

PRONOUNS! ♡ he / they

ZODIAC SIGN! ♡ virgo moon, taurus moon, leo rising.

TAKEN OR SINGLE! ♡ single 😼

——— THREE FACTS! ♡

1! ♡ i am SUPER into making lists. i don’t know if it’s because i’m autistic, have ADHD, or because i’m a virgo – probably all three? – but i literally love making lists and spreadsheets. i also love organizing and sorting stuff. i will find a reason to make a list for literally just about anything. right now, i’m working on tackling this list of the shows i want to watch.

2! ♡ i can make my tongue form into a clover (three-sided) which is probably gross and i won’t embed a picture here, but showing it off has gotten me past at least 2 different forms of hazing so i feel like it’s worth mentioning at the very least.

3! ♡ most of you likely know that one of my special interests is history, specifically working class interpretations/tellings of history. i’m always looking to learn and educate myself more, but i can spew off a bunch of obscure facts about most points of american history which is... a lot. i spent 3 years in uni for history and almost got my certificate in queer studies before i dropped out and i might change my course of study now that i’m back in uni, but i now consequently own an obscene amount of books on imperial america. i may not shut up if asked about post/911 history or anything having to do with the bush presidency, or the war in vietnam/cambodia/laos. i’m sorry to anyone whose dm’s ive unleashed in before, lmfao. because of all of this, i feel like i enjoy writing essays and am better at academic writing than prose, which gives me a complex about my prose being too dry and not poetic enough so, fun times.

——— EXPERIENCE! ♡

PLATFORMS USED! ♡ at the moment, i use tumblr and discord, and i sparsely use dreamwidth. before, i’ve used facebook and livejournal, and occasionally youtube, which is how i got into roleplay about 10 years ago.

——— MUSE PREFERENCE! ♡

GENDER! ♡ i’ve always gravitated toward writing men and i was not self-aware enough to know my discomfort in writing women has always had to do with projecting my personal Butch Gender Envy and my own discomfort with societal notions of womanhood – however, now i can write any gender. at this point, i tend to be drawn toward nb/trans muses.

LEAST FAVOURITE FACE(S)! ♡ i don’t HATE any faces i guess, but i dislike fc’s that are super popular or obviously the very problematic ones. the rpc tends to cycle through a favorite face 1-2 times a year. like semi-related, i guess, but: never forget the 2016-2017 e/iza g/onzales fixation, and the amber heard fixation that i feel like only recently ended but began circa 2012. and yes, ive been on this website for WAY too long.

MULTI OR SINGLE! ♡ i’m fine with interacting with either! for myself, i have frank and a multi-muse, which is how i tend to operate. i cannot operate more than 1-2 blogs at once, especially single muse blogs.

——— FLUFF / ANGST / SMUT! ♡

FLUFF: i love fluff! but it’s not all i enjoy. a big issue i’ve had is constantly perpetuating slice-of-life content with little plot. i love slice-of-life and fluff a whole lot but i need plot and dynamic building to back it up (more so dynamics, as i care more about character relationships than plot, usually, but point stil applies). i feel like a lot of people misconceive frank to be an overly soft, fluffy person – which frank definitely can be, but i’m kind of uncomfortable with the way he’s constantly written in fanfic to be a mindlessly loyal himbo (namely to karen bc k.astle fans are Like That) and the way his old-fashioned (and subsequently hypermasculine and condescending lmfao) nature is constantly lauded instead of questioned. he's not a great person lmao. also, i feel like this plays into people writing and portraying frank as straight in so much of the fic i read, which i dislike.

ANGST: i LOVE angst, but i don’t like trauma/torture porn. i like angst when it also props up plot and dynamics, but trauma porn? hate it. i feel like an issue that i have with angsty plots is that it tends to occasionally turn into a dynamic revolving my muse taking care of another person’s, or vice-versa (which ive ... tried to work, but still, i can be guilty of it!). i also specifically fucking hate (usually very graphic) immediate post-sexual assault/rape plots that have no basis in canon, which is such a specific thing to rip on but i’ve seen it more than once lmao and it makes me so uncomfortable. please stop torturing your muses for no reason. i feel like i’ve worked on doing that myself, and yes i am aware that the punisher is the hugest example of an edgelord, but uh.... please, i’m begging.

SMUT: ii feel like i enjoy writing smut but not just for smut’s sake. not too into pwp, but sometimes i can be. like what i’ve said about fluff and angst, it just depends!

PLOT / MEMES! ♡ i LOVE both. i feel like memes at this point work better than starters for me. i also enjoy plotting a lot, which for me includes going back and forth about our muses, sending quotes/pictures/etc as inspo, etc. i enjoy that a lot about writing and it’s a huge reason why i love roleplaying - i just love collaborative storytelling. i have a very bad habit of dropping dm’s because my executive dysfunction is Bad and also i can get easily overwhelmed if too many people talk to me but just know i love both.

tagged by : @vylingas thank you ♡ tagging : @transforms, @bulletballet, @hammurabicomplex, @streetknown, @errorware, anyone who wants to do it!

#OUT.#this fun little post really did just turn into a long rambly post full of complaining huh #... anyways

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embeanwrites · 4 years

Text

Finding Home Gavin Reed x Reader

Chapter 15

Masterlist

Connor had driven me home after we finished the movie and now, I was laying in bed looking at my phone. I decided to send Gavin a text before heading to bed.

How’s burning the midnight oil with Nines?

lame, i wish i was with my cats

Me too lol

how was dinner

Pretty good, we watched Into the Spider-Verse after. Connor had never seen it!

i haven’t either

You’re joking, right? Is this the Jameson and Ginger Ale thing again?

i barely have time for new movies, let alone old ones

We’re watching it ASAP

lol ok pipsqueak

hey i have bad news

Damn, you couldn’t secure a place for the Dead Mom Society to meet? Or is the bakery out of chocolate chip cookies?

no i have to work through lunch on monday

What are you going to have for lunch then?

idk a pb&j from the breakroom

Would it ruin your “working through lunch” if I brought you lunch and we eat it in the breakroom?

nines wont be too happy

Tell him it’s revenge for lying and setting us up!

ok ill work on him and let u know

Awesome! Good luck saving the city tonight, Batman!

ur the biggest nerd ive ever met

yet for some reason i like u

Awwwwww you like me

…hm

Yeah, yeah I like you too

I gotta go to bed, talk to you later

Sleep tight, pipsqueak

I smiled at the screen for a moment, even if that nickname was rude and had started as an insult, it was his thing for me now. I'm an adult woman. A nickname shouldn't make me feel this giddy, but here I am, grinning at a now black phone screen, thinking about how he only grins and never smiles and how handsome it is when half his face scrunches up to accommodate those grins. I wonder if he's grinning now, a small one at his desk, maybe into a cup of coffee to hide it while he returns to his case files. I hope he's grinning, feeling like a stupid teenager. I hope he likes me as much as I'm starting to like him. I fell asleep soon after, thinking of what I should bring him for lunch, trying to guess what would surprise him most without being too flashy, what I could do to make him grin for me again.

I woke up the next morning around 10 am, and laid in bed for a moment questioning how necessary it was for me to get out of this nice warm cocoon of blankets, with the sunlight streaming in gently just out of my eyes, and sighed loudly when I remembered that it was indeed necessary that I get out of bed, as Tina would be here to pick me up at 11:30. I kicked the covers off, grabbing my phone off the charger and moving to sit on the edge of the bed to check it before truly getting up. The first notification was a text from Gavin, sent around 5 a.m.

u can come on monday probs around 11 bring whatever im not picky

Will do, Batman!

I turned on a throwback playlist while I got ready, a quick shower where I debated too long over shaving my legs before I actually did so, thinking about how Tina might have me try on a suit or dress for the wedding. I hadn't decided what I wanted to go for yet, hence the indecisiveness with the razor. Eventually I bit the bullet and just took the extra five minutes to shave just to the tops of my knees, not bothering with my thighs as I highly doubted I'd be wearing a mini dress to a formal event, though it might be fun to see how Gavin would react to more revealing clothes. I filed the thought away while I got out of the shower, toweling off and tying the towel around my hair and brushing my teeth. By the time I had thrown on a pair of well loved jeans and a plain tee, Tina was calling me, I answered and before I could even put the phone to my ear, I could hear music blaring in the background, and then Tina screamed "HERE BITCH!" and promptly hung up. I pocketed the phone, and hurried looking for my Birkenstocks, of course they weren't by the door, they were in front of the fridge, where I had stopped last night upon arriving home to grab some food before heading to bed. I slid the sandals on, stopping for a moment to grab two packets of the applesauce squeezies for a quick breakfast.

By the time I got to the car, Tina was listening to a different song, but the volume was the same, I'm sure my poor neighbors who were trying to sleep in on a Sunday morning were not very pleased. I opened the door and slid in, Tina turned the volume down. What a shame, she had excellent taste in music, ‘Do I Wanna Know?’ by Arctic Monkeys isn't a song you just turn down!

"Took you long enough!" She laughed, a smile stretching across her face.

"Shut up I couldn't find my shoes!" I shouted, holding up my feet and wiggling my toes in the most comfortable pair of shoes ever made. She looked at my feet and raised her eyebrows, snorting.

"Jesus Christ I’m a lesbian and I still wouldn’t wear those ugly ass shoes, (Y/n)!” I gasped and smacked her arm.

“You’re disrespecting your culture!” I shouted, as the car silently started and began to pull out into the street, heading towards the dress store. Tina just giggled and I huffed.

“For that, I’m not giving you the applesauce I brought for you.” I tore open the packets, double fisting them and squeezing all their contents into my mouth. Tina howled with laughter

“What are you, fucking two years old! I cannot believe you!”

“You’re just jealous that you aren’t as stylish as me and now I’ve had a healthy breakfast which I assume you didn’t as you were at the station all night. I was going to be a good, kind, maid of honor and offer you sustenance but if you disrespect the birks, you disrespect me.” I joked, crossing my arms and looking out the windshield past her.

“Oh my god my maid of honor is two years old!!”

“Hey! That’s uncalled for, I’m not a toddler, if anything I’m like a seven year old, I make sense but just barely.” I joked. She laughed and nodded.

“Still can’t buy booze.”

“That’s why there are other best people who are of age who can.”

There was a natural pause in the conversation, the song changed and we both listened for a moment before Tina turned to me, a devilish grin on her face making me nervous.

“What?”

“So, I noticed something strange at work last night.”

“Yeah, what did you notice?” I laughed.

“A certain someone kept texting on their phone and smiling AND Nines wasn’t giving them a hard time for being on their phone.” She smirked. “I thought the date went bad?”

“How do you even know it was me, future Detective Chen?”

“Well, I may have glanced over his shoulder at some point and saw your name.” I laughed.

“Tina! I was going to tell you. You didn’t have to spy on Gavin!” She laughed.

“It was the heat of the moment. I promise the next time I spy on him I won’t tell you.” I shoved her shoulder and we both laughed.

“Man, I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too.” The automatic car pulled into the bridal shop and we both squealed, jumping out of the car and practically running inside.

"I win." Tina said smugly as she crossed the threshold of the store before me.

"Hey who's the kid now!"

Time went by fast in the shop, the consultants immediately brought us back to a sitting area, offering us complimentary champagne that we happily took. Our consultant, a happy-go-lucky android named Lance, brought out a selection of pantsuits for Tina to try, and offered excellent counsel on all of Tina's concerns. She wanted something elegant and more masculine. She tried a couple things before deciding pinstripe made her feel like a mobster and that white was definitely not her color. Lance was always smiling and laughing with them, not minding at all when they laughed at one of the options or didn't like what he had brought for her. He was very efficient in bringing options, and after three 'no's' he brought out a selection of black jackets and pants, assisting her in a pair of slim fit high waisted slacks with a center vertical pleat to help her look taller, a simple white dress shirt with a short popped collar, and a sleek black satin jacket, with a black lining. The fabric shone nicely in the light, a little bit of a sparkle in the thread. She looked gorgeous, and I could tell she felt it too, the way her eyes shone a bit, and her cheeks flushed, though she would probably blame that on the champagne if I brought it up later.

“You should try on some bridesmaids’ dresses. I’ve got my suit and now I want to judge others!” Tina plopped down on the couch next to me and took my champagne from me.

"You haven't even decided on the style you want! Are you matching both bridal parties? Doesn't Valerie have a say in it then!" I squawked, reaching for the champagne flute she'd stolen from me.

"We actually have talked about it, and we decided that as long as everyone has blush pink or yellow in their outfit, whatever style they want is best. It eliminates the drama and keeps our wedding day happy." Tina said, tipping her head back and downing my champagne in one big gulp. I smacked her arm.

"Ah, I'd be happy to help you find a dress Miss. (L/N)." Lance offered, moving to sit next to me and offered out his hand, images of dresses popping up on his hand.

"What are you thinking Miss (L/N)? Would you prefer the blush tone or yellow?" Lance asked, looking at my face instead of his hand.

"Ah, blush please." I requested.

"Not a problem, it's a popular color so we have a lot of options. Now, what style cut do you like?" I looked at him like a fish out of water.

"I'm not sure, what do you think would look best, Lance?" He smiled, before pulling up a couple of images on his hand and explaining the styles and what design choices would flatter my features. I nodded, and he guided me back to the dressing room.

"I'm going to run and grab some of the options we discussed Miss. (L/N)." He told me, before shutting the door. He knocked when he returned about five minutes later, hanging six dresses on the wall for me. "When you're ready, join us in the showing room, and we can adjust the fit and see what the bride thinks." He told me. I shouted 'Thanks!' through the door before turning to decide which dress I wanted to try first.

“Wow.” I murmured looking at myself in the mirror. From the tag on the dress I learned it’s a ‘long chiffon dress with halter neckline.’ I didn’t really understand what any of those words meant, but this dress was…amazing. It made me feel like a goddamn princess.

“What’s taking so long!” I heard Tina shout.

“Give me a minute, you drunk!” I walked out of the dressing room, towards where Tina was sitting.

“Holy shit.” I laughed and spun around.

“It’s pretty good, right?” She got up and walked towards me.

“You’re getting this one. No question. I’m not letting you leave without it!”

“Are you sure? I can try a light-yellow dress if you want.”

“No, this one is perfect.” She smashed her cheek on mine and we both looked at ourselves in the mirror. I was smiling so wide my face was starting to hurt. She quickly grabbed her phone and snapped a picture of us, and I laughed.

“Tina!”

“What! I want to remember this moment.” She kissed my cheek. “I can’t wait to come back here with you when Gavin proposes.” She teased, causing you to laugh.

“We’ve gone on one date! How much champagne have you had?” She shook her head.

“Just three glasses, I’m drunk on happiness! Come on, change back and buy that dress!” I laughed and walked back to the changing room. I picked up my phone and saw Tina had sent me the picture already. Smiling, I sent the picture to my dad.

Got my dress for the wedding!

Beautiful kiddo!

#gavin reed x reader #gavin reed #detroit become human #tina chen #dbh #hank anderson #x reader

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loverdrew · 4 years

Text

My Everything IV

You’ve always been so passive, to yourself, and a little bit naive, but what unfolds when he comes in and turns your whole world upside?

Everything I II III

Also check out my new story!! Thank you guys! new imagine

I was casually sitting in the schools most popular coffee shop with headphones in blasting music, while looking at my english rubric for the newest paper we were suppose to write by the end of the week. I was so busy into writing it that I hadn’t realized Shawn pretty much ran up to where I was sitting and plopped into the seat in front of me. I jumped, pulling out one of my earbuds, seeing a huge smile on his face, the biggest I had ever seen. It was one fucking beautiful smile, with teeth so white and the cutest lines around his lips.

“I was looking everywhere for you.”

“Wow, for once, instead of being repulsed by my presence.” I laughed. I noticed white pieces of paper in his hands that he was holding so tight crinkles started to form on them. “What’s that?”

“Well, this is what I wanted to show you.” He laid it down on the table, and in big red letters it read “100%, Great Job!” on the top. It was the math test I had helped him study for a few weeks prior that we had taken just yesterday.

“Oh my god Shawn! This is great!” I exclaimed, holding the paper up to my face.

“I didn’t even bride the professor, or cheat off of the person next to me. It feels good to know things.” He beamed.

“Well, I’m proud of you. That’s all you, not me.”

“As a thank you, can I take you out tonight? For a quick burger or something?” He asked, way more shyly than he had ever spoken to me. His eyes begging for a quick answer.

“Actually, I’m sorry Shawn but I have plans tonight.” I said with an apologetic face. I placed his test down on the table, sliding it back slowly to him.

“Oh, oh no it’s-it’s okay. What are you doing tonight?”

“Josh and I are going to Dave and Busters down the street for just a fun night out, with Mara and Logan. It was a last minute thing.”

“That sounds great, I hope it all goes well. I’m going to head out I have some things to take care of.” He says while looking down and gathering his things.

“Shawn, hey, before you go,” he looks back, “I’m really am proud of you, not just saying that.”

______

Later on that night, I was dressed on wearing fitted grey sweats with a grey university crewneck, my hair up in a loose bun with the same makeup I had on throughout the day. I only saw tonight as a night to be with friends, even if it didn’t seem that way to other people. I was just there to eat some food other than ramen noodles and coffee, and play some foosball.

“Looking comfy.” Josh commented, while we all piled into his car. I slapped his arm jokingly.

“Nobody to impress, so I don’t need to go all out.”

“You’re right, you already impressed me.” He smirked with his wide smile, my stomach did a flip, but almost out of surprise, not expecting such a blunt compliment.

We arrived to Dave and Busters and decided to play a few rounds of every game we could before settling down and eating. Mara and Logan didn’t even think twice before getting their game card and headed straight toward the big claw machine with life-sized teddy bears. The air shifted between Josh and I, us looking at each other awkwardly, before I grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the foosball table with a slight laugh. I wouldn’t let tonight be a weird one, I needed to get out of my head for once. Tests, homework, and even this unspoken tension between Shawn and I that had been wrapped heavily in my chest since our time at the pond. I couldn’t help but slightly be sad at his response when he found out I was going to be out tonight with Josh. Josh was a good friend though, he helped me in lectures, he made me laugh when I was about ready to rip my hair out, but still in my mind I only saw him as my friend. It made me feel guilty that he did all that for me but yet I couldn’t get that same tingling feeling that Shawn gave me only by looking at me.

We started to play the game intensely, us moving side to side, laughing out loud, then I scored the first goal. I yelled in victory, putting both arms in the air and continuing to dance with joy.

“Ha ha ha! Now that’s an appetizer on you, to me. I’m thinking buffalo wings? Or fried pickles?” I poked at his sides, then noticed he looked just above my head and his whole face changed, a look of annoyance dancing in his eyes.

“For real man.” He sighed and looked down, I followed his gaze and saw the one and only coming up to both of us, a blonde skinny girl wearing a pink tank top and jeans so skinny I could barely fit my forearm in them. I mentally vomited, a feeling I had never really experienced. I never got jealous because I never had a dude to get jealous over.

“Hey guys, looks like fun over here.” He gripped the girls hand, and she giggled in a high pitched voice. “Can we join?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I said in a low voice, crossing my arms.

“Don’t you have something better to do Mendes? Like making out on the back of your motorcycle?” Josh said, putting a light hand on the lower of my back.

“Oh don’t worry we already have that covered.” He looked down at the girl and kissed her nose. Great, another mental vomit.

“I want to play this one right here, see if her game is as good as her brain.”

“I’m good at everything I do, and you should know that.” I glared, getting on the other side of the table, challenging him.

“Let’s make a bet. If I win, we get to eat with you guys and you buy our meal.”

“And if I win, you leave.”

“Fair enough. Let’s play.”

The ball was tossed in and we both immediately started playing rough, the handles bumping and making loud noises. But at the end of it, the game was short lived, only 2 minutes, and the ball fell into his net. My tongue met the inside of my cheek, a smirking smile on my lips.

“A bets a bet Shawn. Now go enjoy your date.” He fumbled his jacket, coming around the table to try and reason with me.

“Y/N, wait can I at least talk to you about something first. I just need to say something.” He pleaded. At this moment I was so confused. It seemed he was here to clearly shove in my face that he had another girl in his life besides me despite all the time we had been spending together, but now he’s spun a 360 trying to reason with me. I don’t know if it’s the fact that I’m here with Josh, or that I’m with another guy in general, but he did not want to leave like this.

“Hey, she said to leave that was the bet. She won, now go.” Josh tried to interject.

“No wait, just let him speak.”

“About what?!” he screamed.

“It’s about something in our class okay.” Shawn got in too close to his face, that I had to step in between.

“Hey, Josh calm down. Just take the girl to our table, I’ll be there to eat in a little bit.”

“Fine.” He looked at the girl who didn’t have any clue about what was going on, just trudging along with Josh leaving us alone.

“What is it now Shawn. You had an opportunity to speak to me today in the coffee shop and now you’ve followed me here so what is so important that you had to-”

“I can’t stand the fact that you’re here with Josh.” He said so bluntly. “No, I can’t stand that you’re here with anyone besides me.” We both fell silent, the tension finally built up too much in him to keep silent. Thank God, because I would’ve never had the courage to address it.

“You and I both know there’s something other than a tutor-student relationship between us. I’ve sang for you, I’ve taken you to a secret spot nobody knows about, and I’ve thought about you ever since the first day I saw you in class, when I knew you had already hated me.”

“Shawn-”

“No let me finish. I’m not good at this you know I’m not. But I’ve poured my heart out to you in ways I never have with anyone else. My favorite part of my days are spent with you for hours just staring at a textbook reading numbers. I know your coffee order by heart now. There is something about you I can’t get away from. And I have to tell you before things get worse and you end hating me more or falling for someone else.” His hand found its way to my cheek, his eyes asking me to answer if in anyway I felt the same for him. And even if tried to lie, I couldn’t deny the feelings that had been brewing in me since that same day.

“I haven’t been falling for anyone else.” I admitted.

“Good.” He sighed in relief. He leaned in to kiss me but I stopped him, so badly wanting to continue.

“Not here, not now. I mean I’m still here with my friends Shawn and you brought another girl.”

“She’s secretly in on it. Don’t worry about her. But I get it, just meet me after at my dad’s place on campus.”

“Sure.” I smiled up at him. I gave his hand a squeeze before walking over to our group table, a big smile on my face.

_____

At around 9 pm I had arrived at Shawn’s dads house that was directly on campus. It was huge, with windows the size of doors, glass art adorning the front door and a huge chandelier above the entrance. I knocked on the door, but no answer. I waited a few more minutes before knocking again a few more times. I had told Shawn I would be here at this time so it not like him to just not answer or blatantly ignore me.

“Cmon Shawn answer the door.” I knocked again, hearing a bunch of glass fall onto the floor which prompted me to open the door quickly to see if something bad was going on. In front of me all I see is a broken vase and some flowers and water on the floor, a bleeding Shawn, and his father looking extremely disappointed but over the whole situation. They both looked up at me, Shawn immediately running to my side.

“I-I’m so sorry I just heard the glass break I thought something was wrong-” he grabbed my face in reassurance, making sure no blood got on me.

“Hey hey shhhh no, no it’s okay just go upstairs, I’ll be fine.”

“Shawn, that’s very rude to not introduce me to your lady friend.” Shawn closed his eyes and sighed heavily.

“Dad, this is Y/N. Now will you leave us alone.”

“Oh you mean the Y/N?” He walked closer to both of us, Shawn coming in front of me.

“Yes dad, now you can go.”

“Don’t you want me to meet one of the smartest girls in the freshman class? I’ve been wanting to meet her since I picked you guys to have classes together.”

Wait...what.

“Dad, please stop talking.”

“No Shawn, let him finish.” I crossed my arms, my face getting more red by the second. “You picked our classes together? If I may ask sir, how would you know me, I’m new here?”

“Oh I know you very well, top 5 best students in the clinical science program. Beautiful, smart, promising young lady. I had to get my son classes with the smartest girl to keep his grades up.” He said matter of factly.

“W-what...just to keep his grades up.” I looked at Shawn with the most heartbroken expression, realizing he only met me just because I had the brains to help him.

“Yes, precisely, he needed to stay out of military school and he’s a handsome guy for you, both of you deserve each other.” He said with a sly smile, and walked away into the home. I was left there feeling empty, my lips running dry, hands getting clammy.

“Shawn please tell me he’s lying.”

“Y/N, please let me explain-”

“You used me. You knew exactly who I was when we met!” Tears escaped my eyes quicker than before I could stop them. He tried to calm me down by rubbing my shoulders, his lips quivering.

“Is this why you told me your feelings tonight? So I wouldn’t leave you when I found this out?! That’s why you didn’t want me to hate you!”

“I told you because I needed you to know! I liked you Y/N I couldn’t keep acting like I didn’t! Please believe me!” He yelled out in pain.

“Nothing you can say will change anything! Was everything else a lie too? Do I even know the real Shawn Mendes!” Talking about the song he sung to me, the one that practically exposed everything he had clogged in his brain.

“You know me Y/N. I’m so sorry I wanted to tell you but I was afraid, afraid that you wouldn’t forgive me or believe that I actually fell for you.”

“I’m never going to forgive you! You took me away from my studies! You got in the way of the one thing I wanted most because I thought you were different! That you were deserving of help! That you could be even more than what people thought of you! I thought more of you Shawn! I helped you when no one else would, not even your father!”

“That’s why I like you! You helped me feel comfortable in my own skin, to be better than I ever thought I could be. Please Y/N let’s just talk.” He tried to pull me back inside, but I yanked my arm back hard, ready to run back home across campus.

“No, this, this is never gonna happen. Good luck in math Shawn. I’m done.” I started to run back home, tears blinding my eyes (at least I knew the way back). I thought he would’ve been different. He showed me he could be better, that he was trying, that he wasn’t the guy I first heard about. He made my heart sore, he made me forget about the pain and stress of school like nobody else. But this is my karma, this is what I get for diverting my attention of from what was most important, my studies and keeping my head in school to achieve my dreams.

Tag List

@fallinallincurls @the-diabolic @spideylovin @shawn-youth @bitchinhargrove @havethetimeeofyourlifee @turtoix @alilovesshawn @lilalustig13

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes smut #shawn mendes masterlist

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