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christhopersturniolo · 2 months

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୨ HOCKEY PROBLEMS ୧

summary: you have been having some problems in your relationship with Chris, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t loves you.

notes: this is my first time writing a fanfic, I've always wanted to create one since 2020. english isn't my first language, it's probably not very detailed and there might be some mistakes, so don't expect too much lol. but give me feedback tho, l'd love to know what you think!

warnings: sexual assault, cussing, fluff, about three thousand words I think.

୨୧

My relationship with my boyfriend Chris is not the best. Well, at least, not now.

Lately we’ve been arguing all day long over stupid things, like who gets the last slice of pizza, or who gets the last word in a discussion. And it always ends in the same way. Silent treatment, from both sides. But it's not like Chris or I enjoy it. Most nights, I hear him in the bathroom, where he spend hours in tears. It’s horrible and makes me feel like a piece of shit. Hearing him cry only adds to my own feelings of guilt.

And how do we make things up? Sex, over and over. He would fuck the attitude out of me if he had to.

Me and Chris made a pinky promise that I would never miss any of his Hockey games. And I never did, cause i know how much my presence is important to him. And especially cause we are always in good terms the days before any of his games, but not today, we just argued again about nothing, we haven't talked for the past two days.

Nick and Matt, Chris's brothers, usually text me and offer to pick me up for Chris's games, but this time, their texts never came. It’s like they knew how our relationship was going. Chris definitely told them something.

Now you see myself driving to the arena where he plays in, the game is about to start in 20 minutes, and with this traffic, I don’t know if I will be there in time.

Red sign for the past 5 minutes. I have cars in front of me, behind me and next to me. Fuck. I start getting anxious. My nerves are on edge. I bit my nails subconsciously, the habit I got from my dad. My leg starts shaking. I can’t mess up things even more, I gotta be there, I have to be there.

After what feels like an eternity stuck in traffic, the car in front of me finally starts moving. I let out a sigh of relief as I find a parking spot. After that, I enter the venue where Chris plays (Which wasn’t that big, cause he plays in a small team in our city.)

Before taking a seat I scan the crowd anxiously, searching for any familiar faces, no one, I can’t find anyone, not even his two brothers. “Fuck it” I mumble to myself and I just get in a seat with some random people next to me.

The game is about to start, the crowd is already cheering. The players are drinking water and getting ready to get in the rink. My eyes examine each one of them, looking for Chris, number three. He was with a serious face. ‘Are he’s eyes red?’ I think to myself as I narrow my eyes, my vision is bad as shit, but I can tell he’s eyes are all puffy. He has some big dark circles underneath his pretty blue eyes, he looks fucking exhausted, It was evident that he was crying just now.

The players finally begin to take to the ice, their skates gliding across the surface as they prepare for the game to begin.

On Chris's team, there are six talented players, used to winning every single game. However, this time, they were against a really good team. Chris hated that team. I hated that team. Well, not really the team, but one of the players: Cam, Cameron.

Cam is a completely fucking jerk, in college he would always try to hit on me, but I’ve never really went with his face, what would get on his nerves, especially when I started dating Chris. It went to the point where he would force me to have intimate things with him. He was the worst human alive, and I would do anything to see him dead.

FLASHBACK

I just had PE, finding myself alone in the girls locker room as I change clothes. The sound of the front door opening echoed, followed by quiet footsteps creeping up behind me, sending shivers down my spine. I try to ignore it.

As I slipped my shirt back on, I felt two hands grip the sides of my hips, and a warm breath brushed against my neck. I freeze for two seconds. I know this is not Chris. Without thinking, I instinctively push the hands away and I turn around quickly, only to come face to face with Cameron.

I glare at him, my heart racing with a mix of fear and anger. His smirk widens as he takes a step closer, invading my personal space. "What's the rush, sweetheart?" He whispers, his voice dripping with arrogance.

I take a step back feeling the wall behind me getting closer "What are you even doing here? Get the fuck away from me, Cameron" I say firmly, trying to sound like i’m not scared, but the reality is that I’m pissing my pants.

He chuckles like he’s making fun of me, his eyes glinting with malice. "Or what? You'll tell your precious boyfriend Chris?" He teases, moving closer until I can feel his breath on my face. grabbing my waist and pinning them against the wall. "Come on, babe, you know you want it as much as I do.." he affirms, leaning in to kiss me, touching his lips on mines.

“Get the fuck away!” I whisper yell as i try to punch him away but he grabs my wrists. I struggle against his hold, but his grip tightens, his fingers digging into my skin, definitely leaving red marks.

I don’t know what to do. I can’t move. I start panicking. This is my end.

Tears blur my vision as I plead "Cameron, stop!" My voice trembles with fear as he kisses me, his lips rough and demanding against mine. Each kiss is a painful reminder of my vulnerability. Each kiss feels like a violation. I feel dirty, tainted by his touch everywhere in my body. A wave of nausea churns in the pit of my stomach as I try to move him away from me.

"Stop fucking fighting, you are not getting away from me" He murmurs against my lips "You deserve this, you want this.” I try to move as he keeps pinning me "You think I don’t see the eyes you give me when I walk by? Huh slut?" He scoffs, his hot breath against my face. "You were begging for this."

“I wasn’t begging for any of this. I never gave him any ‘eyes,’ he’s fucking delusional!” I think to myself, but my words remain trapped in my throat, suffocated.

As his lips travel down to my neck, leaving a trail of unwanted kisses, I can’t do anything more than start crying and screaming, kicking my legs and arms.

I never went back to those lockers again.

END OF THE FLASHBACK

I hated him so fucking much, and Chris did even more. And now, they are about to compete against each other.

The moment Chris stepped onto the rink, I could see his eyes looking for someone known on the crowd. Desperately, I raised my hand and waved, hoping he would spot me. And he did. His face automatically softened into a gentle smile, erasing some of the tension that had been weighing on me, but he was still with his tired eyes.

The game started with an intensity that matched the tension in the air. Both teams were determined to win. Cameron eyes were burning with rage. At this point, they weren’t competing as a team, it wasn’t about the game, it was about their personal life.

As the game progressed, the rivalry between them two escalated. They began to argue on the ice, each vying for control of the puck with increasing aggression.

Chris managing to gain possession of the puck and score two goals in less than five minutes. But Cam, folded by his own anger, refused to back down. Without thinking he charged towards him at full speed. Cameron swung his stick, causing Chris to trip and fall hard onto the ice.

“What the fuck is he doing?” I say out loud as I get up from my seat to get a better view. Chris remained on the ground for what felt like an eternity, clearly in pain. Every player on the ice stopped and looked around confused without knowing what to do, but not Cameron. He keeps going with the puck in direction to make a goal, with a visible smile on his lips. But then he notices how everyone really stopped and he slows down too, annoyed, not showing any regret.

The thing is, my boyfriend is in a fetal position on the ice, unable to move and no one is doing anything about it? That’s not happening, not with Chris. Without a second thought, I get up from my seat, whispering apologies to those I brushed past as I made my way to the rink. Ignoring the stares and comments from the crowd, I stepped onto the ice, my focus solely on reaching Chris. I get in the rink. I don’t give a shit about who’s watching me.

Kneeling beside Chris. His nose was bleeding, he looked pale and disoriented. Gently, I placed a hand on his shoulder, my voice trembling with concern. "Chris" I whisper, my voice shaking "Are you okay? Please look at me..” I beg in a desperate tone

Chris struggled to respond, his voice barely above a whisper as he fought through the pain "Y-Yeah.. I’m fine.." His eyes half-closed in discomfort.

Suddenly, the sound of approaching footsteps drew my attention, and I glanced up to see some of the players from both teams getting around us, their expressions a mix of confusion and concern. Sensing the seriousness of the situation, a few of them hurried off to get help, while others stood by, unsure of what to do.

“Is he okay?” One of Chris's teammates asked as he knelt beside me, his voice filled with worry.

My anxiety spiked at the sight of Chris's condition, and I couldn't help but let my frustration show. "No, he’s not!" I replied, my voice unintentionally louder than intended. "Don’t you guys have nurses or some kind of medical staff here?!"

The teammate glanced back at me, his expression uncertain. "Yeah, I’m pretty sure they're on their way, don’t worry, he will be fine” He said sounding unsure.

I gently place Chris head on my lap, whispering sweet and calming words on his ear while we wait for someone help us. What I was saying was comforting me more than Chris.

Finally the arena's medical staff arrived, urging us to clear the area around Chris. They place him on a stretcher and wheeling him out of the rink. As they took Chris away, I followed closely behind them, my steps quickening to keep pace with their hurried movements. "Hey, excuse me," I called out to one of the workers, my voice tinged with desperation "Is it okay if I stay with him?" But they seemed way too focused on their task, ignoring me completely as they rushed Chris to a small emergency room they had here, leaving me behind on the hallway, my heart pounded with worry and frustration. But before I could even process what was happening, a familiar voice cut through the silence. I turn around,

Cameron.

"Look who it is" He says, his gaze fixated on me with an unsettling intensity. "Never thought I'd see you here, playing the concerned girlfriend” He chuckles.

My blood boiled at his words, the memories of his unwanted advances and aggressive behavior flooding back with nauseating clarity. "You're sick, Cameron." My voice trembling with rage “You can’t even stand losing a fucking game, you are insane.” I stay some seconds in silence before talking again "You better stay the hell away from me and Chris."

Cameron's smirk widened, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he reveled in my discomfort. "Or what?" He teases, taking a step closer "You gonna hit me? Huh?” He talks in a mocking way

I raised my hand and delivered a good slap on his left cheek, the sound echoing through the empty hallway. "I fucking hate you!" I yell, my voice trembling with rage as I glared at him with undisguised contempt.

Before Cameron could react, the sound of approaching footsteps coming in our attention, and I glanced up to see some of Chris's teammates rushing towards us, their expressions a mix of concern and confusion.

"What's going on here?" The same blonde guy with a four in his shirt asks, his voice tinged with urgency as he eyed Cameron with suspicion.

"Nothing," he muttered, attempting to regain his composure, "I was just.. checking on Chris. But the workers said we have to wait, and unfortunately, I've got somewhere else to be." Cameron lies, fuck he’s good at lying.

He gets closer to me, placing his hand on my shoulder, rubbing it gently. “I hope he gets better” He said in a fake nice tone, like he means it, I move his hand away from me, making him get slightly angry again, he leaves. I watch him go, feeling a sense of relief wash over me knowing that he was finally out of here.

Turning back to Chris's teammate, I say “Anyways..” I take a deep breath “I will just wait here until they say something”

The blonde one nods understanding. “Yeah, that sounds like a plan to me” He replies, his voice filled with sympathy “So, the game was canceled, and we got shit to do, so we can’t really wait here”

“Yeah sure, no problem, I understand” I respond, I try to sound so nice as he is sounding “I'll make sure Chris texts you guys after he leaves the room.”

Chris's teammate nodded appreciatively and they all began to leave to the same direction as Cameron. I sit into a chair next to the door where Chris was, my mind racing thinking about Chris.

Some good ten minutes after, one of the workers is leaving the room, I look up at him, catching his attention. “Excuse me,” I begin, my voice laced with anticipation “can I see Chris?”

He nods, offering a small smile. “Of course, go ahead” He replies kindly before disappearing down the hallway.

Before I enter the room, I take a few deep breaths to control my anxiety. Knocking gently on the door, I slowly open it. He was sitting in a long bench with elastic bandage on his ankle and wrist. Chris's eyes light up at the moment he sees me and a warm smile spreads across his face.

“Shit Chris, I just slapped Cameron in the face!” I say as I close the door behind me. Chris immediately starts laughing. his laugh is contagious. I sit down next to him. “You did not” He keeps laughing

“What’s so funny? I’m being serious” I chuckle, feeling the tension ease from my mind as Chris's laughter fills the room.

"I'm sorry, babe" he says between laughs "But when was that?”

“Literally like fifteen minutes ago! Gosh he’s so fucking annoying! And did you see the way he literally made you fall on purpose? I could break his face right now” I say in a dramatic tone, making him laugh even more.

“Anyways he doesn’t matter..” I look around thinking about what to say “So what did the nurses say?”

Chris's laughter subsides as he leans back against the bench, his expression growing more serious “Nothing much.. I just sprained my foot and my wrist, but nothing much”

“Nothing much?!” I say slightly shocked with his words.

Chris chuckles softly, shaking his head at my reaction. "Okay, maybe it's a bit more than 'nothing much,' but I'll survive" He says with a reassuring smile, though I can see the pain behind his eyes.

I gently reach his injured hand, my thumb tracing comforting circles on the back of his hand. "I'm just glad it's nothing too serious," I say softly, my voice filled with genuine concern. "But still, I can't believe Cameron did that to you! He's such a pussy!" My last sentence makes Chris laugh again.

As I watch him, a sense of relief washes over me, knowing that despite everything, we are still able to find humor in the situation.

Some minutes talking until the silence fills back the room. We are definitely both thinking about the argument we had days ago, cause we didn’t talked since.

“I.. I wasn’t expecting for you to watch the game today” Chris says slightly looking down.

I stay in silence for some seconds “Listen, Chris" I begin, my voice soft but determined "About the arguments we've been having lately.. I know things haven't been the best.. But..” I sigh “But I still care about you, and I always will.”

Chris looks up at me, his eyes softening with emotion as he listens to my words. "I care about you too" He says, his voice filled with sincerity. "I hate that we've been arguing so much, especially over stupid shit.. I just.. I don't want to lose you.”

A small smile tugs at the corners of my lips as I reach out to gently cup his cheek. "You're not going to lose me, Chris." I assure him. My thumb brushing over his skin affectionately.

He gently buries his face on the crook of my neck, I lay my chin on the top of his head, and I wrap my arms around him, holding him close.

"I'm sorry for everything," Chris murmurs against my skin. "I don't want us to keep fighting like this."

Now I run my fingers through his hair, feeling a sense of peace settle over us. "I'm sorry too.." My voice sounding like a whisper. "Let's try to work through this together, okay?" He nods softly.

I kiss his head “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He answers quietly.

୨୧

hey, this is the end! i hope you have enjoyed it, if u saw any miss spelling or anything tell me in the comments, please.

also, i think it got kinda confusing cause i was using words on the past and in the present, but idk 😭😭

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets x reader #matthew sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sam and colby #christhopersturniolo

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messiahzzz · 4 months

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the IGN article has already been addressed by several users, but imo the points of critique raised by others were still often misinterpreted, or ignored entirely.

— so i’d like to talk about it.

beforehand, it is important to mention that it remains everyone’s respective responsibility to curate their own online experience. you shouldn’t purposefully expose yourself to topics that cause you distress or trigger you. however, general discussion should always be valid and welcomed. you have every right to voice your opinion on the matter and to be upset about this. please don’t feel guilty about venting and expressing your emotional response.

we also need to differentiate this specific interview from the fandom’s overall treatment and interpretation of gale. several of the posts i’ve seen on the subject tend to derail into the latter, without addressing the valid points many have raised or glossing over them entirely. this isn’t about the usual “haha gale eats shoes” joke or whatever new meme fandom comes up with. this is solely about the developer’s treatment of gale, the character, and about a specific, internal bias that has been prevalent throughout the entirety of the game, as well as their social media. this particular interview merely adding to the amalgamation of points mentioned.

yes, it is certainly unrealistic to expect larian to address every single companion in detail and to touch on every nuance possible, in an interview that broadly focuses on the game’s narrative and gameplay. there are, however, specific character sections. each companion received a headline that was reflective of their overall character archetype or provided quick insight into their development.

Karlach: 'The Labrador of the Party'

Lae'zel: 'She's So Young'

Halsin: 'A Creative Risk'

Shadowheart: 'The Jason Bourne'

Wyll: 'We Lost a Little Bit of Narrative Room'

Astarion: 'Much of What He Does Is Out of Fear'

Minthara: 'It's Not a Redemption Arc...But She's Got a Lot of Love'

and last but not least:

Gale: 'The Guy Who Starts Off Annoying Everyone'

what followed was a brief discussion about their respective storylines, each being addressed with a certain level of respect, empathy, and consideration. except for gale. all that was mentioned in regard to his character was the narrative impact of gale’s suicide. talking about the overall logistics of this ending, the visuals of the cutscene, and how, to them, his sacrifice felt like the right ending and how in many ways, it is.

Chrystal Ding, Lead Writer: On a very human level, you have the guy who starts off annoying everyone, he's constantly asking you to give him your most treasured possessions to eat, otherwise he's in trouble, and at the end, he gives himself for the world. Sven Vincke, Founder: And he had the choice already once before where he wasn't ready for it. So it's a very powerful ending, and it comes in different permutations.

gale is the character who is initially annoying companions and players alike. he is verbose, enthusiastic and has a tendency to break out in long-winded rants. he repeatedly asks for your assistance, to help him manage his condition. to spare himself and his surroundings from an untimely, explosive death, he must consume items that you’ve carefully collected. gale is, essentially, a liability. a ticking time bomb. he already had the option to have his life be a meaningful sacrifice, but he wasn’t ready to die yet. now, that the party has reached the end, he has another chance to give himself up for the world.

short after, gale’s section of the interview quickly diverts into a more general discussion about the difficulties of playing as a wizard and other classes.

larian claiming that there is a universal “right ending” in a game with many branching paths and choices very much contradicts the definition of a role-playing game. where it is solely in the player’s hands to decide what direction to take and what outcome they deem to be the right one. moreover, it is important to remember that the interviewees weren’t just any developers, but consisted of two lead writers and larian’s founder himself. some of them industry veterans who are, to an extent, pr-trained. we all know that fandom often sees statements from developers synonymous with word of god. as such, the implications and impact are truly unfortunate.

if larian was referring the SA survivor and stated that “the right ending” for him was to return him to enslavement or to hand him over to the gur. that for all the death and misery he (involuntarily) assisted, his sacrifice would at least grand them a slither of justice.

astarion caused death, perpetuated racism, and now that you have handed him over to the gur hunter, he is offered a chance to give himself back to the world.

it is then deemed the right choice for him because it is the most narratively satisfying/impactful/powerful outcome in the context of the overall story. the majority of us would agree that such would be a rather tactless statement, no? not specifically for mentioning it in relation to astarion as a character or his influence on the narrative — he is fictional, after all, but because of the real-life implications and the very real stigma the affected face. we can't deny that it would be hurtful to irl victims. maybe we would even fault the writing altogether for such biases. after all, why should astarion be the only character whose redemption and healing are considered to be significantly less important in the grand scheme of things?

fiction functions as an abstraction and simulation of our social experience. we are supposed to get invested, to explore the meaning, examine the parallels, or maybe just to enjoy stories for the sole purpose of indulging in the occasional escapism. perhaps a way to temporarily forget about one’s limitations and the prejudices we face. in many ways, chronic pain/impairment, suicidal ideation, and autistic traits appear to be disorders & symptoms that are perhaps less relatable to some, and that they are maybe not as sympathetic to.

it truly would’ve been nice to see larian approach this interview with more professionalism. opting for a simple, diplomatic “actually, there is no right ending. the sheer variation in choices makes such a distinction impossible” would’ve more than sufficed.

this isn’t asking for larian to touch on every nuance possible, in an interview that largely resembled the flow of a regular conversation. it’s about asking for the same level of consideration and care that was granted to the rest of the companions. it’s about addressing gale’s particular brand of trauma with the same level of basic human decency. maybe we even could’ve received some new bits and pieces of insight on gale’s development, rather than the regurgitation of every shallow reddit/tiktok take we’ve seen up to this point. alas..

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #fandom discourse #at first i didn't even want to make a post about this but here we are #reducing the discussion to “blorbo trauma” feels like a very condescending/belittling approach #ultimately invalidating a lot of thoughtful points that were raised #this is tumblr. getting invested in fictional people and overanalysing every little scrap of content is what we do.#so to mention it once more: you have every right to be upset #it speaks #sa mention #suicide mention

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cuntess-carmilla · 1 year

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Alright, let's try a thought exercise!

This thought exercise requires us to start by agreeing that women are an oppressed class (cis women, trans women, non-binary people who at least partially id as women or woman-adjacent).

If you can't concede that as a basis, then keep scrolling, this post isn't for you. I'm not here to convince MRAs that systemic misogyny – aka the patriarchy – is real. Alright? Alright.

I think we can all agree that, besides the institutional oppression faced by oppressed groups, they all also face acts of individualized concrete violence (which are then vindicated by institutions and/or sociocultural disinterest or even active acceptance).

You know, that thing we call hate crimes? Acts of violence committed against an individual by mere reason of an aspect of who they are which makes them oppressed and/or marginalized.

We discuss women as an oppressed class as well, but, save for specific feminist factions (largely, non-liberal feminists from the global south), no one really talks about misogynistic hate crimes.

Even though misogynistic men murder women and girls for no reason other than their own misogyny every day. There are exceptions, of course, but most of the time, when a man kills a woman it's not to steal from us, not as revenge for something shitty we did to them, not because we were in an altercation and it simply happened. No.

It's because "if I can't have her, then nobody can have her" (women as property), "she rejected me" (woman denied sex or romance to a man who wanted it), "she was trying to leave" (culmination of domestic violence), "she made me feel emasculated" (reaffirming masculinity through violence).

We're raped and otherwise sexually abused ALL the time as well, and our perpetrators are by far mostly cis men. I hope I don't have to go into detail on how that's related to misogyny.

Chile has pretty progressive femicide legislation as of somewhat recently. The legal definition of femicide went from being "male partner or ex-partner who murders his female partner or ex-partner" to "any killing of a woman for reason of her gender", which explicitly includes:

Women killed by men they were never involved with but who acted out of jealousy/possessivenes or as revenge because they were rejected.

Women being killed by men for being gender non-conforming.

Women being killed for being trans, lesbian or bisexual.

Women killed by men because they were sex workers.

(So, no, before the MRAs who kept reading get their panties in a twist, femicides in Chile are not defined as every single time a man kills any random woman. The motive for the murder has to be patriarchal bigotry in some form and that has to stand to scrutiny in court.)

If we accept that, like in the Chilean legislation of femicide, any act of violence committed by a man against a woman due to patriarchal bigotry is a misogynistic hate crime, shouldn't we be more alarmed with how astoundingly common and NORMALIZED hate crimes against women are?

How many women and girls do you know who have been sexually abused by a man or boy? How many which have been beaten? How many women do you know who have controlling and violent boyfriends or husbands or fathers or older brothers? How often do you hear about a woman who made it out alive by the skin of her teeth from the hands of a man who was absolutely going to kill her? And the ones that didn't make it? How about when misogyny intersects with race, disability, transness, gayness, socioeconomic class, religious minorities, and so on?

I firmly believe that the only reason we don't talk about these things as misogynistic hate crimes is because, despite being oppressed, women aren't a numerical minority. But, rather than that giving visibility to the violence we face, it invisibilizes it even more. It became society's normal to have approximately half of its population constantly subjected to hate crimes, to the point that there's whole TikTok trends dedicated to turning it into a joke (the "joke" where men pretend they're trying to suffocate their girlfriends with a pillow for being annoying) and until very recently it was perfectly ok for standup comedians to joke about it too. Precisely, because women are an oppressed class and violence against us is both socially sanctioned and encouraged, when it's hyper-visible, it becomes at best a fact of life that deserves no one's attention, and at worst it becomes a recurrent joke.

I, personally, believe that femicides and the largest portion of rapes suffered by women are misogynistic hate crimes, as are many other instances of violence women are used to now and that we deal with as a natural(ized) aspect of living as a woman. Which I know will get me called all sorts of names and slurs, but I can't see where my logic is failing.

#rape tw #femicide tw #vaw tw

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canonicallyobserving911 · 2 months

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Buck & Eddie: “You don’t know me!” - 7x5

In 2x8, Buck told a woman, “You don’t even know me!” and according to the script for episode 5 in season 7, the title of it will be almost an exact match since it's "You don’t know me!” and it appears to be a callback to his comment.

Since it's possible some may not have watched 2x8 Buck Actually in a while, here’s a quick reminder of the conversation Buck had with Bobby. They were discussing TK and how Buck hooked up with her in a bar restroom but Buck told him that since he had finally let go of AC, he thought she had changed him 🙄. Then he proceeded to say he had only been single for like a day and he was back to basically being Buck 1.0. When they entered the gas station, Buck kept talking to Bobby about how he was thinking about calling TK but he didn’t want her to think he was only after one thing. While Hen was treating the woman robber victim, she overheard Buck talking and commented, “You are only after one thing. Jerk!”. Buck responded, “You don’t even know me!” and she replied, “You’re a man, I know enough!”

Why is this important?

It’s important because the theme of “You don’t know me” has been applied to Buck with regards to every hookup or so-called “relationship” he’s had with different women on the show. Let’s be real for a minute because the truth is none of them AC, AM, TK, ND, Dr. Wells nor the two women he hooked up with in season 1 knew him either. Also, the woman who made the comment was a random victim who overheard Buck talking for less than a minute and she thought she knew Buck just because he’s a man. It was implied that all men want to do is hookup and leave like he did with TK but Buck has been and continues to search for the love of his life. The conversation he had with her connects to the one he had with Eddie in 6x15 while they were standing in the cemetery.

Buck said, “I feel like I have to try and be the same old Buck… mostly for the sake of everyone else” and Eddie responded, “You don’t have to be anything for anybody”.

IMO, their comments were being made directly to the audience and they were for the people who, after six seasons still want to keep seeing Buck do the same thing over and over again (I know it’s hard to believe but trust and believe there are people in the GA and in the 9-1-1 fandom who want to keep Buck on the hamster wheel and I think it’s because they DON’T WANT HIM TO BE WITH EDDIE). These are the viewers who would rather he keep randomly hooking up with people (it could be anybody and it doesn’t matter if it’s irrational, nonsensical, illogical, random or whatever/whomever just as long as they can see him hookup with another guy or another random love interest) instead of him finally accepting the love that him and Eddie effortlessly share with one another. I’ve said this many times, Buck and Eddie are in love with each other, they’re soulmates (post linked here) and they share a once in a lifetime love of their lives type of love that transcends space and time. They have a deep, emotional and intimate connection that’s not superficial and it’s not based on a hookup. They have an EPIC love story that deserves to be told without any more distractions or the addition of one-dimensional love interests. It’s not platonic, it’s romantic and if they do go CANON, it will make for groundbreaking television.

Back to our regularly scheduled program…

After the title for 7x5 was released a few weeks ago, I completed a post about how Connor really doesn’t know Buck the way he said he does in 6x4 (linked here) and I stand by everything I included in it. However, this post is in addition to that one and it includes the details about how all the women Buck dated didn’t know him either.

In 1x1, the first woman Buck was shown hooking up with in the firetruck told him to his face that she didn’t want to get to know him. He asked her for her number and she replied, “You’re cute and you’re very good at whatever it is we just did but let’s not ruin it by getting to know each other.” She didn't want to get to know him and the look on his face showed he wanted more but she didn't so he moved on to the next one.

Dr. Wells was the LAFD’s trauma therapist and SHE TRIED TO BEFRIEND Buck on Facebook before he ever entered her office. She knew the day would come when he would need therapy and when he asked her if she sent him a friend request, she told him he should delete it but then they ended up having sex. It was played off like a joke but that’s not what it was because she was in a position of power and as a licensed therapist, she should have been charged because it’s against the law for that to happen. IMO, since Buck didn't know any better, as his captain, Bobby should have reported her. She wasn't mentioned again until 3x9 when Buck, Bobby, Chimney and Eddie were sitting in the loft at the firehouse and all Bobby said was "She's no longer with the department". That wasn't enough and she took advantage of him. Trust and believe the situation would have ended differently if the roles had been reversed.

AC wasn’t any different because after Buck stood by her and helped her after her mom died, he was being catfished by a man and several women were after him because of that guy's lies. After a woman threw a drink in his face, he said to her, “You know me right? Come on” and she replied, “I don’t even know who I am right now. But I definitely don’t feel like I know who you are right now.” She ended up ghosting him and abandoning him while he waited for her for months.

When she returned two years later, she didn't even apologize to him.

AM didn’t know Buck either and don’t get sidetracked by the fact that she called him Evan sometimes. It was proven she didn’t know who he is when she said, “I know it’s who you are” after he said, “You want me to quit my job”. Well, being a firefighter is NOT who Buck is, it’s what he does but she clearly saw him as a hot firefighter just like AC did and was looking for a good time. Please remember she didn't have a problem leaving him because of it.

TK didn’t know Buck at all and for everyone who thinks just because they were having sex and living together, that doesn’t mean anything because after meeting four years earlier, TK still had no idea who Buck was before it was over and she didn’t care. If she had known him then she wouldn’t have betrayed his trust. Also, he did cheat on her which made the situation worse but neither of them wanted to admit they weren’t supposed to be together and they clung instead of just ending it. When he got ready to break up with her, she didn't try to see his side of it, she just stuck to her immoral ideals and wanted him to be ok with her running with the Jonah story. Instead of saying, “I understand and I apologize” she said, “You knew who I was when we started dating” and he replied, “I guess I thought I could learn to live with it”. She made it all about her the same way Buck makes everything about himself. They were two self-centered people with tragic childhoods in a trainwreck relationship and it shouldn’t have ever happened. It's still interesting that Buck ended up in a relationship with her after everything she did to Bobby and the 118 four years earlier (related post linked here and here).

ND fangirled over Buck and was so enthralled by his death but when she found out he had a full life, she did judge him. He said, “I know this is something that’s easy to judge” but even though she said that him being a sperm donor was a kind gesture or whatever, she left because she couldn't handle his full life. Granted she was a death doula but her actions weren't professional and it would have been better if she would have helped him deal with his death. Her return should have ended with Buck saying "No thanks" and sending her on her way but of course he was shoved into another lackluster one dimensional relationship. Also, them telling each other, “I like you” was very high school like🙄.

Please understand, I don't like TK but in 4x8 she said, "You just can't stand the idea of someone not liking you" and she was right. Buck works hard to make people like him and it's very reminiscent of the way he's been trying to get his parents to love him anyway. He needs therapy.

It seems like he's still doing it and the words Bobby spoke in 6x11 during his coma dream had no effect since he still cares about how people see him. He hasn't learned anything yet but hopefully he will in season 7.

Eddie Diaz is the ONLY person on the show who KNOWS and SEES Buck and the video above includes several snippets from different episodes to prove it.

Eddie knows him at his core. He knows when to call him on his BS, he recognizes when Buck makes things about himself and he knows when he's trying to fix things instead of understanding it's not always his job to fix them.

Maddie is Buck's sister but she still sees Evan (post linked here) her little brother but Eddie knows Buck and after they become a CANON couple, he’ll know Buck even more.

While I’m not sure who’s going to say, “You don’t know me” in 7x5 or if it will be said at all, I do believe Buck might say it again and if he does, it will be a callback to 2x8. Also, 6x15 could be included in it since Buck might not be trying to be the "same old Buck" anymore and hopefully it will be enough for the naysayers to understand he's not the same person. IMO, I still think it’s something he will say to Connor especially since the sperm donor arc is supposed to return and OS said in an interview it won’t be revisited before the first 5 episodes. Hopefully, Buck will finally realize the people he thought knew him really don’t including Connor.

Is it possible Eddie could say it to M, maybe but I don’t know because IMO that doesn’t sound like something he would say to anyone. But he is all therapized now and he’s supposed to be joking or whatever this season so who knows.

The point of this post is to illustrate how Buck said, “You don’t even know me” in 2x8 and apparently, it’s going to be a callback in 7x5 but the question is, if he does say it, who’s he going to say it to? 👀

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moni-logues · 10 months

Text

Kintsugi 4

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Genre: strangers-to-friends-to-lovers, non-idol!au, angst, smut, tiny bit of eventual fluff

Summary: In a fit of spiteful, post-break-up self-improvement, you sign up to a baking class. Yoongi, in a bid to appease his demanding girlfriend, signs up, too. Determined to make him your friend, you end up with more than you ever imagined.

Word count: 8.1k

Content: none! there is no content lmaooo nah there is just none that needs to be warned for, I don't think, so enjoy freely!!!!!

A/N: I know, I know, it's taken an age but here we are!! And I'm honestly kind of nervous to see how people react!!!! huge thank you to my betas @blog-name-idk @amethystwritesbts and @here2bbtstrash

Chapter Three | Masterlist | Chapter Five

Chapter Four – Someone Old, Someone New

The message came in shortly after lunch.

Mei.97: hey girl! Long time no see!!! I’m going to be in Seoul this week, pleeeeaaasse tell me you’re free for dinner tomorrow?!!? It’s been too long!!! Xxx

You had to read the message twice to be sure you were reading it right. You hadn’t heard from Mei—an old university friend—since your first ‘breakdown’. You wondered what on earth she could want. But you weren’t in any position to be turning down an outreached hand.

You: sure! It would be great to see you!

A few months ago, that would have been a huge lie. Now, it was only a little one. You weren’t looking forward to having to smooth over the details of your breakdown, or your break-up, but you had been close as students and it would be easier with her—she moved back to Busan after graduating, so you could put a little bit of the blame for your losing contact on that, too. You knew you weren’t quite there yet, but you felt like you were healing, you were making progress; you sometimes even felt, on occasion, pretty good about life. And you wanted to share that.

The first thing you heard upon walking into the bar you had suggested was the loud screech of your name. Then Mei was running over. You had barely even noticed her before she was wrapping her long arms around you in a huge hug. Her hair was as long and silky as it had ever been; she was still wearing the same perfume she always used to wear, and too much of it, as she always had; she looked almost exactly the same, except a little richer, a little chicer, like someone who had truly settled into themselves. She outshone the whole restaurant and looked as if she didn’t notice, as she always used to. The real world didn’t seem to have dimmed any of her at all. You were pleased with yourself that this didn’t make you completely sick with envy.

“Girl, oh my god, it is so good to see you! You look amazing! I can’t believe it; you’ve barely changed! Love the hair, though,” she announced to basically the whole bar.

You’d forgotten that she was possibly the only person in the world who was louder and talked more than you did. You’d forgotten how much you liked her. You had no need to be nervous, you realised, because it would never occur to her to judge someone; she just wasn’t that sort of person because she wouldn’t even have the time for it. She was more than just a rolling stone: this rolling stone had an engine and jet fuel.

“I ordered a bottle of wine because I wasn’t sure if you were still into the same drinks and I figured, wine is a safe option, right? You want some?” she asked but she was already pouring into your glass. “Tell me everything, babe. It has been so long. What is up?”

You took a deep breath. Where to start?

You marvelled at how painless the night had been. It was fun. Somehow, despite all the discussion you’d had about your life since university, your life now, it wasn’t painful. Not really. Mei was single, too, and courting every man in Busan before her parents tightened the screws on her to settle down. She was enjoying working for the family business (if a corporation can be called merely a ‘business’). She was earning a salary that made you wince and made her promise dinner was on her. You were doing reasonably well in your career, too, actually. You were earning enough to live in Seoul on your own. Things weren’t perfect, but Mei was such a positive and enthusiastic steam-roller that she made you feel like you were thriving, not wilting. She was exactly what you needed.

You were just wishing that she didn’t have to leave Seoul, that she could move and stay forever when she took her ice-cream spoon from her mouth and looked sheepishly at her empty bowl.

“I have a confession to make,” she began. “I had a teeny ulterior motive for asking you to dinner.”

Your stomach lurched.

“Oh?”

“You remember my cousin Sungbin? He came to visit that time at uni?”

“The one we had to carry back to your room?”

“You mean the one we had to find someone else to carry back to my room?”

“Yes!” You laughed. “Yes, I remember! How could I forget?”

He was a sweet, tall drink of water who accepted every shot and drink foisted on him by his cousin and her friends until he passed out in the bar. You and Mei had dragged him through the streets of Hongdae asking every passerby if they could help you get him home. You didn’t remember who actually helped or much of the rest of the night, but that arduous 100-meter drag was almost as painful as your hangover had been the following day.

“What about him?”

“Ok, so my uncle is retiring, right? He’s still going to be on the board but he’s retiring from his actual position so, of course, Sungbin, oldest son, he’s got to step up. He's moving to the big city, girl! Taking up a position at the HQ here. My ulterior motive is me asking you a huge favour.”

“What’s the favour?”

“He doesn’t know anyone here, right? Never lived here before. Would you maybe like, take him out for drinks or lunch or something – super casual, no big deal! – just so he’s got a friendly face? Give him some recommendations for stuff, I don’t know, just so he doesn’t feel overwhelmed and on his own?”

You didn’t really know how to feel about it. Of course, you would. Of course, you would be happy to take Sungbin out, show him around, help him if he needed. You felt flattered that Mei would even ask you, that she thought you would be up to the job. That she thought of you at all, to be honest. Had you not just been thinking that you needed new friends? And now one was landing straight in your lap.

It all felt a little too good to be true. It was too easy. Things had been too easy recently; this was just too much good, surely? You weren’t used to this. It felt wrong. Made you anxious. And, usually, that anxiety made you make things worse all on your own. But your therapist had told you to stop looking for the bad, to trust the good, appreciate its presence. You could do that. Right? You could do that.

“Yeah, sure! Of course, I can take him out.”

Mei dramatically fell to the table in relief and held tight to both your arms.

“You are an angel! Thank you! Here’s the bad part, though: any chance you can do it tomorrow? I’m leaving in the morning and he’s going to be on his own for the first time since moving-”

“Oh, he’s already here?”

“Yeah! That’s why I’m here, girly! I helped him move! Any chance you’re free tomorrow?”

You didn’t know how to say yes without letting her know that you were the sort of person who had no plans at the weekend but you didn’t want to say no because you were the sort of person who had no plans, and it would be nice to get out of the apartment. You did not look into the fact that she was asking you this last-minute, assuming you would have no plans already. You shrugged.

“Yeah, I can do drinks or something tomorrow night?”

“Babe, you are my favourite person in this whole world. I’m going to give you his number; just text him. He doesn’t know anyone here so he literally has nothing better to do and I’ve already told him I’d put you guys in touch.”

From anyone else, that might have prickled a little; the assumptions might have rubbed you the wrong way, but Mei was relentlessly optimistic, having never had any real hardship in her life (she would admit to this, too), so she had never had any reason to believe that things wouldn’t go the way she expected. Far from wanting to burst her bubble, you wanted to protect her naivety. Because you wished you could have it, too.

As you walked and subwayed and walked home, you thought about Mei and her life, and your life, and how different things could be. You wondered who you would be if you weren’t so broken, if your head could just have got its shit together—rather, if your head had never gone to shit in the first place. Would you have been like Mei? Would life have found another way to break you? Were things destined or was everyone, including the universe, just making things up as they went along?

Could you ever be like Mei? Was anyone like her? Did she have secret pain?

It wasn’t lost on you, the possibility that she wasn’t as happy-go-lucky as she seemed. The shock and surprise of everyone you knew when you ended up in hospital was almost the worst part. If you never heard someone say ‘I had no idea!’ again, it would be too soon. You thought about it a lot, how normal you were (or weren’t). You couldn’t believe that everyone else went through life not thinking the things you thought, that everyone else was somehow just able to get on with things without the sometimes-debilitating urge to sink into the floor forever.

You shook your head, because you knew you weren’t supposed to be thinking like this. You’d had a really fun time with an old friend and you were going to have a really fun time tomorrow with a new friend. That was all. There was no need to ruin it by overthinking and second-guessing.

You tapped a finger nervously on the bar as you sat on your stool. You used to come here a lot, or at least semi-frequently, but you hadn’t ventured into this part of the city since you moved out of the apartment you had shared with your ex. He got the apartment, so he got the neighbourhood, too.

You couldn’t really miss it, not on its own, because your life had changed dramatically after the break-up: you moved somewhere else, lost most of your friends, and stopped going out. This was really the only ‘out’ that you knew. And, crucially, it was close enough to Sungbin to become his neighbourhood, too. So here you were, tapping at the bar, staring at the door, trying not to gulp your drink and be drunk before he even arrived.

It was bright and hot and humid. It had rained solidly for three days and the water still hung in the air, clung to your skin, even as the sun tried its best to burn it away. You pressed your palm against your cold glass and tried to will yourself cooler without success. You already felt sticky with sweat and you didn’t know if that was entirely down to the weather, or if your nerves were also to blame.

You knew you didn’t have to be so nervous. What was the worst that could happen? Taehyung had, very patiently, talked you through it: all possible outcomes, all likely scenarios, best- and worst-case situations; he had reminded you that you were an adult human being who knew how to speak to other people. You did. You did know. But it had been a very long time since you had been in this situation. It wasn’t a date. Obviously, it wasn’t a date, but it was the closest you had got to one for many years; you were meeting a man, in a bar, alone. You didn’t know each other; you were hoping he would like you.

You took another gulp of your drink and repeated Taehyung’s words back to yourself. You reminded yourself of how good things were, ran through your gratitude list, tried to persuade yourself not to psych yourself out before the date (it was not a date! NOT. A. DATE.) had even begun.

You had turned from the door, realising how awkward it might be for you to have to stare at each other as he walked towards you and were now just glancing over your shoulder every single time you heard the door open. To stop it being awkward. You had done well to pace yourself and it was as you lifted your glass to your lips for another sip that you heard someone call your name. You turned and came face to face with a man you knew could not be Sungbin.

“Hi,” he said somewhat awkwardly as you continued to drink. “I don’t know if you remember me but I’m Mei’s cousin, Sungbin.”

You gasped as you drank and it all came out in a choke and a splutter and you were blushing and fumbling to put your glass down, find a napkin, rewind time by ten seconds. The napkin came from his hand and you took your time drying your face and hands to try to will your blushes away. You were so embarrassed you could barely look at him.

And there was so much of him to look at. This was not tiny, tall drink of water Sungbin from your university days. He was huge. He must have grown at least six inches taller, not to mention wider. His biceps were the size of thighs and his thighs were almost bursting out of his skinny jeans. You didn’t know where to look.

“You can’t be Sungbin!” you cried. “You’ve got to be the guy that ate him!”

He laughed and tugged at his hair a little self-consciously.

“Yeah, I guess I’ve grown a bit.”

“A bit! You’re... You’re a hulk!”

You were off your stool and gripping his bicep before he’d even finished the sentence—your fingertips didn’t even come close to touching. You were gawking, gaping, ogling this poor man without an attempt to hide it. You gestured broadly to his entire body with your other hand and only when you looked back up did you notice the blush on his face, the awkward way he averted his gaze. You stood back and gasped again, this time without choking.

“I’m so sorry,” you told him. “Oh my god, that was so rude of me. I’m so sorry! What a dickhead! This is a terrible first impression for me to be making!”

“Technically, not a first impression; we have met before.” He chuckled awkwardly. “And I didn’t exactly cover myself in glory then; I was, uh, a little worse for wear, I think.”

“A little?! We were worse for wear; you were... the worst for wear! I’m amazed you survived.”

“The joys of youth. Not sure I’d survive doing it now, just in case you had any ideas.”

“Mei and I could barely get you home then, there is no way on God’s green earth I’d be able to carry you home by myself now! I wouldn’t risk it.”

“So, we’re agreed then: both getting home in one piece?”

You lifted your glass.

“I’ll drink to that!”

You moved from one bar to the next, almost retracing steps you used to take in what felt like your former life. Sungbin paid great attention to where you were going and what else was around, cataloguing his new area, making notes for his new life. Your nerves were long gone, as were his, and you were enjoying a night out with a relative stranger as if you were a real person who did things like this: a real person who made new friends, who went out at the weekend, who had a proper life again. You had to pinch yourself to make sure this was all really happening, that this was all really going well. Your problems felt miles away, lightyears. You wondered if this is what it felt like to be normal. Whole. Fixed. You made a mental note to tell your therapist.

You were on a roof terrace, carpeted with fake grass, decorated with fake flowers. Everything was clean and bright and the sun was still high in the summer sky. It was still a little too warm and a little too sticky, your glasses sweating as well as your bodies, but the lightest of breezes lifted the ends of your hair every now and then, and you couldn’t have imagined a more comfortable feeling than the soft rush of wind across your hot skin. You took seats under a white, wooden pergola where the sunlight was dappled through the fronds twisted along the frame.

This heat usually enervated you, made you lethargic and sloth-like. That night, though, sitting under fake foliage, you felt solar-powered. There was a summer spring in your step. You felt, dare you believe it, like you were glowing. Like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon. A brand new thing. A better thing. Being here, an old place, with Sungbin, a new friend, could have felt awkward, uncomfortable, like trying to fit a square peg in a round hole—you had expected it to—but no. You felt bigger and brighter, not smaller and duller. You were conscious of the possibility of your old life encroaching on your new one, the possibility of running into someone you used to know, but you decided to push those thoughts away. Compartmentalise them. Ignore them. You didn’t need them.

Sungbin was talking about his ex. It was an awkward break-up; they’d not been together long enough for her to move to Seoul with him, or for him to even ask her to, but it had been long enough that it felt significant, felt like throwing something away when they ended things. But he was young and he wasn’t worried. You didn’t say it out loud but you thought to yourself that a man like him surely would never have to worry: looking like he did, having the position he had, being a sweet, polite kind of guy; women would be queueing up for even a chance with him.

“I don’t really miss her that much, because there’s so much going on here that I haven’t really even had the time to. That, if nothing else, tells me it was the right decision for us.”

The words reached your ears but didn’t go in. You could feel your heart pounding hard in your chest and sweat begin to prick in your palms. Your eyes had flicked over the crowd in front of you, people walking in and out, to and from the bar, looking for tables, looking for friends. They had skimmed over the faces of strangers until they hit upon someone familiar. The face had immediately disappeared back into the crowd, but you were sure it was him. It had to be. Why else would your whole body have gone into panic mode? Why else would your legs be like jelly? Why else would your fingers feel numb? A quiet ringing grew louder in your ears and you kept looking for him again, waiting for that dark head above a white shirt to break through the crowd again. You had to be sure it was him.

“Are you ok?”

You wanted to stand. You had to stand and get a better view. You wished it weren’t so busy. Why did it have to be a Saturday night? Why were all these people out?

“Are you ok?”

A touch on your arm drew you back and your head span to Sungbin. He looked confused, concerned.

“I think I saw my ex,” you told him, your voice hoarse.

“Ah. A bad break-up?”

Your eyes had already gone back to the crowd, scanning and searching.

FUCK.

It was him. It really was him. It had to be. It couldn’t be.

“Yeah, no, I don’t know,” you answered vaguely.

You were still staring at him and then his eyes flicked to yours and you flinched so hard you almost knocked over your glass. You turned away, turned back; he looked as surprised as you were. He looked unsure. He looked like he was walking over to you.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” you said under your breath, looking at the table, trying to work out how on earth you were going to handle this. You wondered, if you thought hard enough, if you would be able to make yourself disappear. You wondered if you could just run: leg it out of the bar as fast as you could and not look back. You felt dizzy. You felt sick. You felt... drunk. Too drunk. Of all the places and all the times you might have imagined seeing him again, this wasn’t one. This would probably be the very last place you’d have chosen to run into him.

Sungbin’s hand was back on your arm, less tentative now. He scooted his chair closer to yours. His hand slid down your wrist and he tangled his fingers in yours. You could only look at him; you didn’t have the mental capacity to even form the question in your mind.

“Don’t worry,” came his reply. “I got you.”

Then he winked.

“Hi.”

You looked up and there he was. San. Just as he always had been. Maybe his hair was a little shorter, you could kid yourself there was an extra line or two on his face. But it was him, no denying.

“Hi,” you squeaked back.

You were trying to think of all the things you wanted to say to him, trying to think of all the things you could say to him, that would be appropriate to say to him here, in this bar, whilst holding the hand of another man.

“Hi, I’m Sungbin.”

He was confident. He stuck out his free hand and gave San a generous smile.

“Oh, uh, San.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too.” San turned his face back to you. “How have you been?”

You looked at Sungbin for help: this relative stranger, this potential new friend pretending to be your new boyfriend in front of your old boyfriend, this man who seemed to have much better control of this situation than you did. You could barely think at all. It was a desperate ringing, alarm bells, sirens wailing, a maelstrom of panic. Sungbin smiled at you. You had no idea how long you looked at him before answering, had no sense of time anymore.

“Yeah, fine,” you said, eventually tearing your gaze from Sungbin to stare into San and the sun behind him. Sungbin gave your hand a squeeze. “Good, actually. You?”

“Yeah, same old same old, you know how things are. Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Oh, that’s my fault.” Sungbin stepping in to save you again. “I live in the area so I’m always dragging her over this way.”

You stammered for a second, trying to take in San’s surprise and Sungbin’s sweet, encouraging smile.

“Y-yeah, he does,” you confirmed. “I don’t- I don’t mind, though, really.”

“Mm, you always liked this bar. I remember.”

“Yeah.”

You noticed the way San’s eyes flicked to your hands, clasped together on the table, not just once but again and again. You wished you could peer inside his head, know what he was thinking.

You were hardly thinking at all. Your brain was trying so hard to be quick that it had overloaded itself, stalled, got stuck. You couldn’t get over the fact of him, there, in front of you. It had been months. Seasons had changed since you saw him last. You had changed. Could he see that? Did you want him to? Did you want him to miss you? Did you want him to be bothered by Sungbin—gentle giant, Sungbin, holding your hand so casually, talking about you as if you really were together? You tried not to imagine what San was doing there, who he was with. You didn’t know if you would care. You wouldn’t be surprised to learn he was dating. He was a catch, you knew that.

There were too many things happening at once, too many things to process. You felt like you were spinning out of control. What if San knew Sungbin wasn’t your boyfriend? What if he knew this was all pretend? What if he asked more about it? What if everything unravelled before your very eyes and the ground didn’t show mercy and swallow you whole?

“Are you still living around here?” San asked you. “I would’ve expected to see you around more.”

“Oh, uh, no. I’m over the river. I just-…"

You couldn’t commit yourself to the lie, had to let yourself trail off just looking at Sungbin, desperate for a sign you were doing ok, you were playing this the right way. He grinned at you.

“Like I said, my fault.”

He shrugged with a light chuckle and San faintly followed suit, mouth moving but no sound actually coming out.

“Right, well,” he began in the tell-tale way that said he was backing out of this conversation. “I’d better get back to my table. It was uh, nice meeting you, Sungbin. Good to see you, too-” his eyes rested on you, needled into you like he was searching for something specific in your face. “I’m glad you’re doing well.”

“Yeah, me too. I mean, me for you, you know what I mean.”

A genuine smile. And a nod. Then he was retreating back into the sea of people, disappearing and leaving no trace. No trace but the hammering of your heart. No trace but the sweat pooling in your palms and sticking your dress to your back. No trace but the sudden exhaustion of the relief you felt being out of his presence. Sungbin squeezed your hand again.

“Bad break-up?”

You rested your forehead on the fingers of your free hand and shook your head.

“It was for me. It was the right decision but yeah, it was bad for me. I haven’t... I haven’t seen him since I moved the last of my shit out from our apartment – what used to be our apartment.”

Sungbin nodded knowingly and placed his hand on top of yours just for a second. Then he let you go completely.

“I’m sorry if I overstepped. I realise I didn’t really give you a chance to disagree; I’m sorry about that. I-”

You shook your head and waved your hand.

“It’s absolutely fine,” you reassured him. “It was good, actually.”

You were deeply grateful for his quick-thinking, presumptuous though it may have been. You wanted to splash your face with cold water, give yourself a shock, try to bring yourself back into the room. You didn’t want to look like you were still completely hung up on your ex; you didn’t want to look like a mess; you just needed a second to take a breath.

“That was... not expected,” you went on, more for your benefit than for his. “I have thought so many times about what I would say and what I would do if I saw him again but I guess I never really believed it would happen and then suddenly, he was fucking right in front of me and I just felt like dying!”

Sungbin laughed, as you knew he would, because it was a joke. It was a joke. But you didn’t not feel like dying for at least a second there.

“When did you break up?”

“Oh, months ago now. Kind of feels like I should be over it, I guess. I mean, I am, really. I just-...”

“You were caught off-guard. I get it; it’s rough seeing them again.”

It was rough. And you believed that he did get it. And he smiled at you so sincerely that you could have cried. It surprised you, that people could be nice to you; that people could like you, even; that people could see you and still smile at you. You looked at each other a little longer, Sungbin’s quiet calm radiating through you, your heartrate slowing and your spinning head coming to a stop.

“Thank you,” you said as you picked up your glass to take a sip to cover awkwardness that only you felt. “That was quick thinking and um, yeah, I think it helped. You didn’t have to do that.”

Sungbin shrugged.

“You’re doing me a big favour tonight; it was the least I could do. Happy to be your fake boyfriend whenever you need!”

He laughed and then you laughed and it felt good. You drained the last of your drink and Sungbin suggested you go somewhere else for your next one. You agreed. You didn’t look for San on your way out, just kept your eyes on Sungbin’s back as he led you, your hand in his (just in case), back through the bar and out onto the street.

“You don’t have to literally walk me to my door,” Sungbin said as you stepped into the lift with him. “I maintain that it should be me walking you home.”

You shrugged.

“That argument might hold water if you had even half a clue of how to get to my apartment. But you don’t. Besides, I was taking you out tonight; it only follows that I walk you back, too. Why break tradition?”

Sungbin bit back a grin.

“How long before I live that down?”

“Oh, at least five more years.”

“Well, if you’re going to make me suffer that, don’t you think we should do this correctly? Now, how did it go again?”

He moved behind you and draped himself over your shoulders, slowly leaning his weight onto you. You cried out and could do nothing but collapse underneath him.

“NO! I couldn’t carry you then; now you’re just trying to kill me!”

You knelt on the floor of the lift with your hands outstretched above you, as if they would in any way hold him off. He straightened and pulled you up by them.

“Fine,” he conceded as he stepped out at his floor. “But next time, you’re going to have to let me walk you home. Deal?”

You shrugged. You nodded. You didn’t take that as a promise.

“About your ex,” Sungbin started, standing in front of his door.

“Yeah?”

“Where exactly are you at with that?”

That had you on the backfoot. You didn’t know how to answer the question for yourself, let alone for him. Your first thought was that you probably would have to ask your therapist; did she think you were over it? Would she think you had closure? You blinked and opened your mouth as if somehow an answer would fall out of it without your having to compile it first.

“I just mean,” he continued, “are you dating? Would it be alright if I asked you out?”

“Oh, uh, I-”

Would it be alright? Wouldn’t it be? You had told yourself you were off dating. You weren’t ready for it; you had been emphatic when you’d said as much to Yoongi only a few weeks ago. Was that still true? You had spent so much time that day reminding yourself that this wasn’t a date, but... what if it had been? San aside, it had gone well, hadn’t it? You had had fun; Sungbin seemed like he had, too. He was the one who pretended to be your boyfriend first. Maybe... Maybe it would be ok? Maybe you were ready? There was only one way to really find out.

“Yeah, I guess that would be fine.”

He smiled.

“Good. I’ll do that then.”

He took your hand in his and pressed a kiss to your knuckles; everything inside you fluttered. Then he winked and dropped your hand to enter his door code.

“Text me when you get home safe, yeah?”

You nodded, mute. He smiled at you again.

“It was really nice to see you again.” And when he said your name, it sounded new.

You didn’t leave immediately. Couldn’t. You stood outside his apartment, in shock, processing, looking at his closed front door, to the left, to the right, looking for an answer to what just happened. Sungbin did not just ask you out. But he did say he would. He was going to ask you out.

And you had already kind of said yes.

To a date.

You fumbled in your bag for your phone and had it to your ear before you realised you absolutely had to leave, lest Sungbin hear you speaking. You scuttled back down the hallway and into the lift while Taehyung’s phone rang and rang and eventually went to voicemail. You hung up and tried again. And then again. And then you sent him a text.

You: TEDDY!!! PICK UPP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You tried calling for a fourth time and for a fourth time, you heard the automated voice of his voicemail service.

You threw your phone back into your bag, defeated, but jittery with nerves and adrenaline. You could barely remember how this felt. In fact, with San you had seen it coming. You had engineered it. You had been flirting for weeks; you practically demanded he ask you out. Then he did. This had come out of the blue. Blindsided you. For the second time that evening. You were so shocked by Sungbin’s question that you had, momentarily, forgotten about running into San.

What a fucking night. One that you had almost no idea how or where to start processing. Everything was-… you threw your hands in the air, by yourself, in the lift, shaking your head, completely bewildered. Taehyung was your go-to person for this. He was your sounding board. You picked up your phone to call him just one more time.

Your phone rang as you were changing into your pyjamas and you picked it up with your vest only half pulled down over your chest.

“Teddy! Finally!”

“Are you dying?”

“No.”

“Are you hurt or injured or maimed in any way?”

“No.”

“Then stop calling!”

“Hey! I need to talk to you!”

“Well, it’s going to have to wait, princess; I’m busy.”

“Not even for five minutes?”

“No.”

“But I saw San!”

There was a pause as Taehyung digested the information.

“Are you ok?” he asked simply.

“Yeah.”

“Then it’s going to have to wait until tomorrow.”

You heard a rustling in the background, another voice.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, turning your voice down to a loud stage whisper. “Are you with someone?”

“... Yes.”

“OH MY GOD! Oh my god, please tell me it’s the barista. Is it the barista? It is, right?!”

“... Yes.”

You squealed and fell onto your sofa to kick your feet in the air.

“WE HAVE SO MUCH TO TALK ABOUT!” you screamed down the phone.

“Yes, but tomorrow.”

“Yeah, fine, tomorrow. Oh my god. I am SO excited, Teddybear.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever. I’ll talk to you later. I’m going now.”

“Bye, Teddy!”

“Good night, babe; love you.”

“Love you!”

It was entirely possible that you weren’t going to be able to sleep at all now.

You squealed as you opened your door and let Taehyung into your apartment. He handed over an ice-cold, sweating cup of coffee and flopped onto your sofa.

“Tell me literally everything,” you demanded.

He merely shrugged.

“Don’t be fucking coy, you piece of shit! I want to know everything! It’s THE BARISTA.”

The barista worked at a coffee shop not far from Taehyung’s apartment. The barista was a fine, delicate-boned, ethereal beauty, probably the prettiest person you had ever seen in real life. Even Taehyung—unflappable, cool, calm and collected Taehyung—had been flustered the first time the barista had flashed him his pearly whites. And, last night, something had finally happened between them.

“There’s really not that much to tell,” Taehyung countered. “I asked him out and he said yes.”

You hit him hard with a cushion.

“I said I want to know everything! And you can’t just say it like it was that simple; you’ve been daydreaming about that guy for months!”

“Firstly, I was sussing out his situation. I understand tact and diplomacy and how to not say every stupid thing that’s in my head at any given moment-”

“Uncalled for, but go on.”

“-So I had to bide my time.-”

“Also, you’re a massive chicken and he made you go knock-kneed and goo-goo-eyed.”

“-Do you want me to tell you what happened? Or would you prefer to just make up your own version?”

You cackled.

“You know I’d love to make up my own story, but no, sorry, I’ll stop interrup-”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, babygir-”

“Ok, now who’s interrupting?!”

“I’m the one trying to tell you a story!”

“Ok! Ok! Fine, spin your yarn and give me the entire confection, please.”

“I’m seeing him again tonight. Truth be told, I’d be with him right now if someone hadn’t already laid claim to my time.”

“Teddy!”

You felt bad for tearing him away from his One True Love, you did. But he’d already seen his success with the barista (Hyunjin to those in the know) and could go running right back to him as soon as he was done here. All you had was a too-warm apartment to stew in until whatever hour or day Sungbin would choose to actually, officially do the asking.

“Come on, then,” Taehyung said, with a shrug, and nudged you with his foot. “How the fuck did you see San again?”

Shit, that too.

“Right, well, you know I was out with Sungbin last night—and, by the way, do NOT let me forget to show you his instagram. Oh my god. There are no words. And there’s also something else I need to tell you about him after this. But, yes, San, ok.”

It felt like trying to describe a blur. You still didn’t know how you felt about it. The whole night felt surreal to you now, like a dream. It was frustrating to have met him but not really met him, to have seen him and not been able to talk. Everything that you had been working through—trying to work through—felt bundled up inside you and you wanted him to know. You didn’t need him to think you were dating again, you didn’t need to ‘win’; you needed him to know that you understood. That maybe there would always be some kind of thing between you—history, old intimacies like ink stains in your skin—but it didn’t mean that that past would hold you back forever. You wanted him to see that you understood that.

But you came to those conclusions this morning, after a deep sleep, after another man had made implicit promises to ask you out. And, once he’d actually asked you, would anything you had to say to San matter anymore? Did it really matter now?

“I don’t know how I feel about it because... I had this blind panic, y’know? But I don’t know why I panicked because San is a good person and I understand why he broke up with me and I don’t blame him for that and there really shouldn’t have been any reason for it to be awkward, right?”

“I mean, another man pretending to be your boyfriend might make it a little awkward.”

“Maybe... But that’s not Sungbin’s fault; he was trying to help. I thought I’d be cool seeing him again, because I’ve thought so much about things I want to say to him or would say if I could, but when he was actually in front of me, it was like I couldn’t think at all. I don’t know what that means.”

“It doesn’t have to mean anything. You were surprised.”

“Yeah, but shouldn’t I be over him? Should he have that effect on me even now?”

“I don’t think ‘should’ is a helpful word here, sugarplum. There is no should or shouldn’t about feelings; isn’t that therapy 101?”

“I just don’t know... I guess I thought that seeing him again would make everything crystal clear, written in stone. Sure. But... Well—ok, the other thing is that Sungbin kind of asked me out.”

“On a date?”

“Yeah.”

“What did you say?”

“Well, he asked me if it would be alright if he asked me out. And I said yes. So he said he would. But he hasn’t actually asked me yet.”

“And you want to know if you should go out with him or not?”

“I guess?”

You shrugged. You wanted to go out with Sungbin. You knew you wanted to because you could picture his smiling face and bulging biceps and you saw clearly, outside of the moment, how quickly and easily he stepped in to support you, no questions asked and no favours owed. He wanted to date you. You knew you wanted to date him. But-

“I don’t want it to be a mistake,” you said.

“That’s natural. No one likes making mistakes.”

“No, I mean, I don’t want it to be a mistake for Sungbin.”

“Why would it be?”

You looked at him, trying to say, without saying, what you meant. Because it had been for San—you had been. He was better off without you and maybe Sungbin would be, too. He was young and rich and free; he had just moved to the biggest city in the country; he had the world at his feet. Were you really going to let him limit himself, stop himself at your door?

Taehyung looked cross for a moment, lips pursed and eyebrows drawn, then he took a sip of his coffee (mostly iced water at this point) and, when he turned back to you, his gaze was softer.

“Baby,” he cooed and he held his arms out to you. Despite the heat in your poorly air-conditioned apartment, you climbed into his lap and let him stroke your hair. “There’s only one way to know for sure if something’s a mistake and that’s to do it. Sungbin clearly wants to. If you also want to, then you’re just going to have to dive in. The water’s great.”

You nodded and let him hold you, so grateful to him and all his tact and diplomacy and gentleness. He wasn’t always—or often—gentle with you, because usually that’s not what you needed and he knew it. Just like he knew that today, that was what you needed.

“I do have one question, though,” he said and his hesitance made your stomach drop.

“Ok.”

“Where does Yoongi fit in with all of this?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I don’t know; I thought you guys were-”

“-Friends! Just friends! Have I not said it a million times?! We’re just friends! We’ve always just been friends!”

“But you did have sex-”

“ONE TIME!”

You pushed away from him to better display your indignation and displeasure. Taehyung had a bee in his bonnet about Yoongi—had done since you’d first mentioned him—even though he didn’t know the guy, didn’t know anything.

“Ok, ok!” He held his hands up in defeat. “I just sort of figured you guys were heading in that direction.”

“Why?”

“You seem to like him a lot.”

“I do. Because we’re friends. I like you a lot, too, and we’re not going to shack up.”

“Yes, love, but I’m gay and you are not a man.”

You pushed him.

“You know what I mean!”

“I take your point. If you want to date Sungbin and feel good about it, then you have my blessing-”

“I don’t need your blessing, Teddy; I can do what I like!”

He fixed his eyes on you and simply waited you out.

“Ok, fine!” you cried, exasperated, after probably not more than five seconds. “Thank you, yes, I did want your approval.”

“And you have it, my sweet. As long as you’re happy and not being a complete idiot, I’m on board.”

“I mean... Thanks, I guess?”

"Don’t mention it.”

“Babe!” you cried as soon as Yoongi step foot inside the classroom the following Thursday. You beckoned him closer, telling him to hurry, and grabbed him by the arm as soon as he was within reach. “I have so much to tell you.”

He looked surprised, blinked, and then shrugged with a slight nod of his head. You didn’t pause for thought as you unloaded both your bags and your gossip onto the counter. You were sieving flour as you told him about your dinner with Mei; beating eggs into the mixture when you told him about drinks with Sungbin; and watching Yoongi almost drop the entire thing as he placed it in the oven when you mentioned San.

“What was that like?” he asked with genuine, but guarded, curiosity.

“A blur. Kind of a panicked mess but also fine. I sort of want a do-over but mostly for my pride, y’know? It was bumping into an ex, not actually meeting up with them so I think that made it better. But also worse because I had no time to prepare but there was also no opportunity to get into the difficult stuff which meant we didn’t have to get into it.”

“Do you still want to do that? Talk to him?”

“There’s a lot I want to say to him, but they are things I want to say more than things I think he would need or want to hear. If we met, it would be for my benefit and I don’t know if he deserves to be pulled in for that. Do you know what I mean?”

He looked thoughtful for a moment and nodded.

“And that was before Sungbin asked me out, too, so maybe I would be saying something different if that hadn’t happened.”

“He asked you out?”

Yoongi was turning towards his counter, looking at his sugar in his pan, turning on the hob, his head inclined just slightly towards you to indicate that he was listening. He needlessly pushed a hand through his hair which, far from tucking it behind his ear, made it fall in front of his face. You were, likewise, distracted by your sugar syrup and altogether too excited to take note of much else.

“Yes!” you cried in answer. “So, on the Saturday he asked if he could and, obviously, I said yes. Then it took him until Wednesday to actually do the damn thing, but yes, he asked me out and I said yes and we’re going out tomorrow for our first actual date.”

“Wow.”

“I know, right? I had no idea it was coming—the bit where he asked if he could ask me out, I mean. We ran into my ex at drinks! And he asked me out?! And I was... I was discombobulated, you might say; I stood at his door for five minutes just in shock at what had happened. I was in disbelief. Especially because I wasn’t expecting it! At all. I mean, I was just doing Mei a favour! I didn’t think anything of it and now I can’t stop thinking about it! Or, well, him. I had forgotten how exciting this part is? It’s terrifying, yeah, completely horrifying, really, but I also just feel like I’m alive, y’know?”

You paused briefly, glancing at the oven timer and stirring your syrup.

“I just...” you started and then stopped, staring off into space to let the thought coalesce in your brain. “It’s so crazy that you can think one thing and then someone comes into your life and, suddenly, everything is so different. All it takes is one person to—ok, this is dramatic but you know me now so you’re going to have to let me be—change your whole life. A chance encounter? And suddenly I’m not the world’s loneliest, bitterest, most miserable single person alive? Suddenly, I have something to be excited about? To look forward to? I’m getting ahead of myself, I know I am, but I’m allowing it. I’m allowed to indulge in this because it’s been so long. I’ve been miserable for ages now. And I’m finally not. Don’t get me wrong when I say this, because therapy works, or at least it helps, it really does, but man, having a crush on someone is fucking electric, right? Years of counselling and it turns out nothing makes you feel the joy of being alive like when you really fucking like someone.”

Yoongi hummed.

Chapter Three | Masterlist | Chapter Five

#yoongi x reader #bts x reader #yoongi fic #bts fic #yoongi angst #bts angst #suga x reader

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sheepiemc · 5 months

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your touch (a craving)

part 3: chest (first | prev)

“Are you listening, Lord Diavolo?” Lucifer asked, definitely not amused, but he tried to keep his tone even when talking to the prince of the Devildom. If anybody else had heard him, they would think it was a genuine question, but Diavolo knew Lucifer’s patience was wearing thin.

Diavolo was standing at a window in his office, watching a single raindrop on the pane. He watched as every other droplet raced around it, miraculously avoiding ever touching the one he was focused on. Many would get close, but they always just managed to avoid a collision.

“I'm listening, my friend,” Diavolo said. He didn't turn to him.

Lucifer was in his office to discuss the plans for the “winter formal” that he wanted to throw to celebrate another successful semester at RAD with the exchange program. Naturally, it was an idea you had given him. It was a staple of school life in the human world, or so you had told him. Maybe you hadn't experienced such things yourself, but you were very familiar with the concept from movies and TV shows. And dances weren't a foreign concept to the Devildom so, if it made you happy, Diavolo was happy to oblige.

He smiled to himself as one tiny droplet finally combined with the largest one, sending them both sliding down the pane and pooling at the bottom of the sill with the rest of the raindrops outside. He turned to look at his friend over his shoulder. Even though a party like this has been thrown hundreds of times, it was quite like the Avatar of Pride to ensure every detail was perfect. “I trust that you'll make the right decisions. All you need to do is give me the paperwork I need to sign and it will happen.”

Lucifer was usually unreadable underneath the unflappable mask that he schooled his features into in public, but he let his guard down just a touch in front of Diavolo. The prince’s absolute certitude in Lucifer’s abilities made the demon preen. “With pleasure, my lord.”

It was only when he felt his DDD go off that Lucifer's expression twitched ever so slightly out of place. Checking the screen, a flash of annoyance graced his features before they were schooled back in place. “I must apologize, my lord, but it looks like I am needed elsewhere. If you'll excuse me,” he trailed off, bowing slightly.

“Certainly, Lucifer. Please take care of whatever it is you need to,” Diavolo turned to face him and nodded once. “I'm sure your brothers need you more right now than I do.”

“Yes, well, we shall see about that,” Lucifer turned and left without a second look and something inside Diavolo’s chest ached. He turned to look back out the window, heavier raindrops coming down harder now.

He wondered how you were getting home in this storm.

Did you have an umbrella?

After a moment, he decided there was no point in staying in the office anymore. If he happened across you in the hallway, he could offer to escort you home. And if you happened to forget an umbrella, you would have to share his; You would have to be so close to him, brushing up against him - to avoid the rain, of course. Oh, just the thought of this deviously orchestrated closeness was enough to bring a little color to his cheeks.

The demon prince's head was up in the clouds meandering through the halls of his academy. He didn’t need to pay attention to his surroundings because any student still milling about wouldn’t dare to get in his way.

You, however, weren’t any student. You weren't as mindful as you made your way through the halls. You were looking down at your phone, enraptured by the nonsense going on in the “House of Lamentation (New)” group chat. You were coming up the stairs at the same time Diavolo emerged from around the corner and you collided right into each other, your head bumping directly into his chest. It was a moment of brief contact, more disorienting than dizzying, and you stepped away from each other just as quickly (but Diavolo was thankful for it still).

“Oh, MC. I beg your pardon-” Diavolo started.

“Diavolo! I mean- Lord Diavolo,” you said at the same time, “I'm so sorry. I should've been looking where I was going.”

“Please, I could say the same thing.” He straightened his posture and beamed at you, “I'm actually glad I ran into you." He chuckled at his own pun. "Are you heading back to the House of Lamentation?”

“Oh, actually, I promised Beel I would pick up the homework Belphie missed from skip- I mean, he was sick!” You stopped yourself when you realized who you were talking to. “He would get it himself but I offered since he has Fangol practice today. Why?”

The familiarity with which you referred to the Avatars of Gluttony and Sloth dropped something very cold in the pit of his stomach. He had noticed you were heading up, further into the building, and not outside. Could he still ask to come with you? No, his initial plan for manufactured intimacy was tainted by that genuine closeness you had with the brothers.

Diavolo cleared his throat, smile not quite reaching his eyes. “That's very thoughtful of you, MC. Those brothers are lucky they have someone like you who cares about them so much.”

You looked into his face, searching for something; what, he didn't know. And he wouldn't know if you found it because, at that very moment, you both heard what sounded like frantic footsteps coming down the hall. As you turned to look, all you could see was a white and brown blur barreling down the hall as fast as demonically possible.

“Was that-” Diavolo started.

“Mammon?” you finished.

Following not too far behind him, what started as a trickle of water soon became a huge wave tumbling around the corner. The scent of brine and sulfur overwhelmed the hallway, and with it came the Admiral of Hell's Navy, in full demonic form, barreling through atop his most loyal soldier, Lotan.

“Oh, no,” was all you got to say before the force of the tidal wave coming down the hall pushed Diavolo into the wall and you into Diavolo, soaking the both of you from head to toe.

What was perhaps more pressing in Diavolo’s mind was the way you were pressing into his body. He was hyper-aware of everywhere your body was touching him. He wanted to pull you even closer, sink his claws into your tender flesh so that you would never not be a part of him again. It took every ounce of strength he had in his body to not do exactly that, and it was precisely because he was the most powerful being (currently awake) in the Devildom that he didn’t. His hands were shaking, hovering above your hips by only a hair’s breadth.

Your eyes were still closed from the shock of the wave. He could feel his entire body temperature rise as his gaze wandered from the sparkling constellations forming on your eyelashes to the droplets of water dripping from your parted lips.

When Lotan finally passed (which took a while as he's a very long sea serpent), your hands lingered on his body a little longer than they probably should've before you wiped the water out of your eyes. Your expression morphed from pure shock to slight amusement.

“Well,” you scoffed, stepping back only a little, “at least I don't have to worry about the rain soaking me anymore.”

Diavolo didn't trust himself to speak. He feared he could only say something like, please, come back, I want you to stay so near me, always. He took in the state of the rest of your body, the way the wet clothes clung to your body. He looked back at your face and got distracted by a drop of water that slid down your neck. If he wasn't blushing before, he certainly was now.

“Diavolo?” You cocked your head to the side, exposing more of your neck.

Before he could take a step towards you, another presence entered the hallway the same way Mammon and Leviathan came. The utterly repressive aura emanating off of their eldest brother was smothering, even to Diavolo; He wasn't running after them, just walking slowly and with purpose.

When Lucifer reached you and Diavolo, he stopped, took a deep breath, and said, “Lord Diavolo, believe me when I say those two are in for a punishment the likes of which neither have ever seen. You have their deepest apologies.” His tone was frighteningly even for a demon as angry as he surely was.

Diavolo cleared his throat and crossed his arms, frustration only a little feigned, “And what event could have caused such an uproar?”

“It appears that Mammon sold one of Leviathan's limited edition signed figurines… again.”

“Again? Like the same one?” you asked.

“That seems to be the case. Leviathan just bought it back for a ridiculous sum and Mammon sold it off again not even 24 hours later,” Lucifer sighed. “MC, if you don't mind, I believe I'll be needing your help to… discipline them.”

He turned to you, placing a hand on your shoulder, indicating you had no choice in the matter.

“Sure thing, Lucifer.”

“Please excuse us, my lord.”

Diavolo couldn't tear his eyes from Lucifer's hand.

“You are excused.”

Lucifer nodded once before turning you both away from Diavolo.

You looked back over your shoulder to him as you walked away. His eyes caught yours one last time, drinking in the emotion he found in them like he'd been in the desert for years without water.

He watched you walk all the way down the hallway and stood listening to your footsteps splashing down the waterlogged stairs. It wasn't until all he could hear was the water dripping off his coat into the puddles on the floor beneath him that he finally took a shuddering breath and leaned his head against the wall, hand pressed against his chest.

He was approaching the point of no return and he had to decide, quickly, if he was willing to cross that line when he got to it.

(next)

#obey me shall we date #obey me fanfic #obey me diavolo #diavolo x reader #diavolo x mc #obey me lucifer #he has a speaking role in this ch but im also cheating by trying to get more eyes on this ch with his tag lmao #originally posted on ao3 #fic #OP

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bunnakit · 3 months

Text

do you want to get chicken noodles?

i've had several people wonder why i'm obsessed with playboyy's aob and why i'm constantly saddened by the indifference towards him on the dash so i figured i'd grab hold of my 'too much' habits again and do a breakdown of all the reasons i love aob.

as always, i'm just a little guy on the internet. i could be way off base, i could be seeing things that aren't there, i could be reading too much into things, could be forgetting points of the plot or times when people have mentioned aob in a bad light, whatever. i just ask that you be nice to me because i'm only this big 🤏🏻 (and i also took the time to make gifs of almost every single aob moment across 8 episodes and i've been working on this for 5 hours - some gifs are crunchy because i had to lower the quality to capture everything i want to address)

to preface, so much of aob isn't in what he says - you actually gain so much more to learn from aob about what he doesn't say and observing his body language and facial expressions closely. aob tells his entire story with his body, because that's how he's grown used to communicating.

episode 1 🌸

we see here aob is genuinely baffled by the behavior of teena and soong. he's used to the environment of playboyy where clients are just paychecks and there's game of cat and mouse and as a result no need for any sort of emotions or emotional manipulation. he's simply providing a service and doing a job. he doesn't have to lure and romance, his clients come to him. the idea of getting emotions involved is completely foreign to him.

episode 2 🌸

we're brought to a flashback almost immediately in episode 2 that raises a lot of questions but also shows us quite a bit. as aob walks up the stairs he moves as if he owns the place, with the utmost confidence. as he ascends we see security treat him with respect and offer wai's in passing - almost as if he is someone in charge here. this shows us what a big deal aob is among the club, how respected he is even as far as the security is concerned. i think it's a very interesting detail that helps back up aob's arrogance and confidence, because why would he be anything else?

the following conversation with the other workers is a bit confusing to me and as far as i recall we don't have all the answers to the questions it raises just yet. we do learn aob is the one that taught jump, teena, and soong during their time at playboyy. he asks them what they're going to do for a living if they're leaving and i think this conveys the idea that aob isn't as heartless as he appears. he worries for them and wonders how they'll take care of themselves if they leave.

teena makes a comment about the boss going too far but i'm not sure if we know what he means by that yet? i had actually completely forgotten about this encounter until i went back to grab screens. i want to comment on this part more but it's not really the point, i'm just really curious what the fuck they're talking about here as they seem to insinuate they've been forced to work here and even aob is surprised by that. this leads me to believe that aob might be a bigger part of the plot later on, perhaps in uncovering whatever was meant by these comments.

episode 4 🌸

i think this is the moment aob really lost favor with so much of the fandom and i do understand why, however, there's a lot that happens here that's very interesting to observe.

"Don't say 'true love' and 'soulmate.'"

i have to wonder why these were the first words aob brings up as soong laments his situation. no one said those words, aob, but you sure did.

teena then talks to soong about what he's heard and tells him he should be responsible for first's feelings in all of this to which aob makes the above expression. aob hates the discussion of feelings, believes emotions need to be removed from the equation entirely, and is baffled by the way his friends are acting about people that should be nothing more than clients and believes any form of relationship impossible.

"Try being in love." "What, stupid love?"

something about this makes me believe that aob doesn't know what love is, not real love. he dismisses it as stupid and scoffs while the others almost roll their eyes at him. it's easy for aob to give the advice he does when he doesn't have love burning a hole in his chest the way they do, he's never felt it before, doesn't know how all consuming it is.

and then as first confronts soong the camera pans from teena to aob and i find his expression very interesting. that doesn't look like a man removed of emotions. to me, that looks like a man that has just had his world tilted on it's axis and is now questioning everything he's ever told himself. he sees first's tears and the way soong stands still and listens as first falls apart. i think that moment truly startled him and drove home that the emotions between the boys and their 'clients' are very real.

episode 5 🌸

alright, episode 5 is a lot so i'm sorry for the absolute wall of gifs and texts coming for this single episode.

"Time to work, Puen."

aob meets puen on the stage and immediately his face falls as it's not him picked first but puen. later, aob walks into the back where puen is smoking and immediately takes in the sight of him.

"Are you Puen?" "I am." "You're quite hot."

"Come find me later. I want to know why you're so popular."

aob wants to know who has dethroned him and why his clients are so enamored with puen. what does puen, someone completely new to the business, have to offer that he doesn't? this is also where aob begins to look at puen and from here on he will never look away.

aob speaks so very much with his eyes. you can see his gaze drop and take in all of puen here during their 'evaluation' as he asks permission before going further with him. it's obviously quite professional but i think it also shows us that aob isn't as cold as he tells people he is; or perhaps that's just where puen is concerned.

this is really where i realized that much of understanding aob is reading into what he isn't saying or what his words are hiding.

"I knew it, you aren't that great."

but he is, because aob can't look away from him.

"...You attract clients that want to try new things. Once they are bored of you they'll dump you."

you're attracted to me and want to try something with me, but once you're bored you'll leave me.

"Why don't you teach me? I want to be like you."

show me what you want from me. i want you to like me.

"I'm sorry. I can't be a teacher. I'm a prostitute. Oh. Don't be like me." Because you can never be. Loser."

i'm sorry. i can't like you. i'm a prostitute. and please don't like me because i can never like you back. don't look to me anymore.

but puen accepts that challenge.

(i forgot to watermark this one lmao, i don't care enough to go fix it)

i'm still not entirely sure what to make of this moment with prom. why does he squeeze aob's shoulder as if to offer him some kind of reassurance? why does aob shake his head just the slightest bit and suddenly look like he's going to face a firing squad? does prom know it's already too late for aob, that he's in too deep? is he trying to prepare aob for the sudden fire in puen's veins? i'm really struggling to figure it out, really. i think it could mean quite a few things or nothing at all.

"Why are you criticizing me? People might think you're jealous of me."

puen has so very clearly learned what makes aob tick. he's learned that aob's pride is also his biggest weakness and he picks at that weak point to evoke a response from him - and it works. suddenly aob is all bluster and anger, but interestingly puen doesn't back down, doesn't even flinch. instead, he has a confident smile and meets aob's eyes with a challenge burning in his own.

aob doesn't know what to do with that. you can see it in the shift of his face. this expression is very similar to the one he makes when first confronts soong - he's on the wrong foot, confused and adrift because suddenly puen is no longer the innocent doe-eyed novice but someone who is pushing back and challenging him. no one has ever challenged him before.

they meet again later in the bathroom where aob is doing some sort of display of dominance perched on a urinal. listen, that's my blorbo, but even i can't defend that. baby get down from there, you're making even more of a fool of yourself.

"Do you want to eat chicken noodles with me?"

aob rejects the invitation and puen laments that he seemed fine earlier when they were in the room together.

"What happens in the room stays in the room, Puen. You can't have feelings for the clients. They'll be strangers when they leave."

what i do in the room with you has to stay there. i can't have feelings for you. you'll become a stranger to me when you leave.

"Why do you have to act so cold and emotionless to everyone?"

and aob doesn't answer. he doesn't even get angry. there's just a quiet look of resignation on his face and he bites his lip, almost like he's nervous, almost like puen is looking at him too closely and starting to see right through him.

"Can you have feelings for your friends or brothers?"

or for me.

"You aren't my friend or my brother. You're a competitor."

because you have to be. because i can't handle any alternative. i can't love you.

episode 6 🌸

they're in the bathroom again but this time it's puen waiting for aob asking why he's been avoiding him.

"Why can't you have sex like a couple? You taught me how to feel. So practice what you preach."

why can't we have sex like a couple? you taught me to remove the feelings from it so why can't you do that?

and i think it's very interesting that for a moment aob drops his gaze and looks away. he's been caught and called out and looks away almost in submission before pulling up his guard again.

"I don't have any feelings for a kid like you. I just can't do it. You're not sexy enough."

he attacks puen's looks but this is a direct contradiction to when they first met and the first thing he said was "You're quite hot." once again aob says the opposite of what he means.

i have feelings for you, this is why i can't have sex with you like a couple. i like you far too much.

"Fine. I'll be better than you someday."

fine. i'll make you love me.

and aob can't take it any longer. he goes just outside the door and breaks down because it's all so much; his feelings for puen, puen's refusal to back down, the turmoil he finds himself in having everything he's ever known turned upside down. he was never supposed to have feelings, least of all for someone as stubborn and determined as puen who breaks down his walls and challenges him at every turn. his will is breaking down every bit as much as he is in this moment.

episode 7 🌸

this was one of the first scenes to really make me emotional in this show. throughout this entire scene aob cannot look away from puen. all of his attention is on puen to the point where he neglects the client and even pushes him away. he touches only puen, kisses only puen. he seems almost tortured by the moment, to be so close but so far from the object of his desire.

and puen looks at him with the challenge in his eyes again, almost mocking: look at me, i've surpassed you. you can't take your eyes off me. i've won.

and aob continues to watch him, his eyes almost a caress, gaze almost reverent as if he's witnessing something holy. my man is absolutely lost in the sauce.

"You have a crush on a loser like me, huh? So you couldn't help yourself."

"This is how you pay me back?" why are you doing this to me? "Do it to me, not in front of the client. What's wrong with you?" don't challenge me in front of a client. don't push me.

but puen knows he's won, he knows he's hit the nail on the head and aob, as he always does, is growing defensive. because he's scared.

"But I'm glad that I'm important to you. Like I said, I will be better than you someday. But that day came so quickly. You lost."

i'm glad you've realized i'm important to you. like i said, i would make you love me. that day came so quickly. i've won.

episode 8 🌸

i didn't get gifs of the scene but prom asks aob if he's jealous of puen's popularity. that's all he asks. but what's interesting is aob replies:

"Jealous? I don't have feelings for him."

aob... i don't think that's what prom was asking. prom asked if you were jealous of his popularity among the clients, if you were jealous that he'd taken your throne.

and puen appears to challenge aob again, blows him a kiss almost as a reminder of their previous encounter. but aob doesn't get angry, doesn't rise to the bait. if anything he looks sad, maybe contemplative, and perhaps like he's coming to terms with something.

You only appreciate the value of something when you are about to lose it. It's just so fucking awful.

Especially when you know in your heart that you are powerless.

Because he isn't your boyfriend.

The more you want to know the more painful it gets.

throughout this entire scene aob looks so sorrowful, like he knows he has to do something soon or he will lose his chance with puen. he has to try because this powerless feeling is growing to be too much.

aob is waiting for puen at the bottom of the stairs and if you look he's bouncing his leg in a nervous tick. when puen rounds the corning his face is immediately in some semblance of a smile which is something we really haven't seen from aob. it gives the impression that he worked himself up to this moment despite how nervous he is. (his shirt is also very wrinkled, were you in a rush?)

"How are you going to haze me today?"

and this i think drives home that puen is tiring of their game. that aob is so very close to losing puen because puen is starting to believe aob's words, believe that aob doesn't like him and only wants to harass him.

so aob takes the leap.

(and i find the handle with care on the wall particularly interesting, as both of them need to be handled with care. aob, with his unfamiliar and warring feelings, and puen with his earnest and hopeful heart.)

and as aob bridges that gap puen looks taken aback and confused because what the fuck, aob isn't soft, doesn't do things like this.

"Do you want to get chicken noodles?"

aob asks, a throwback to the day puen had asked him on a date. an acknowledgement and an apology.

i'm sorry i wasn't ready then, but i'm ready now. will you still have me?

and that's why today's episode made me cry and why i love aob so, so very much. his journey learning his feelings and learning what love feels like and what love can be isn't pretty, he fights it tooth and nail the entire way, but the smile on both their faces as he jumps on puen's back gives me so much hope that they can be good for each other and support each other.

there are still so many episodes left and maybe i'll be wearing clown make up by the end of this, maybe my hopelessly disgustingly romantic heart has misled me, maybe i've read the facial expressions and body language all wrong, but regardless of all of that aob and puen are so special to me.

#please be nice to me #my stomach is in my throat #im so scared of looking like a fool #bunn meta #playboyy #playboyy the series #aobpuen #aun warit #parm pawarate #userrain

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bullet-prooflove · 6 months

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Back In Town: O.A. Zidan x Reader

Tagging: @trublu2u @mrspeacem1nusone @greenies-green @rosaliedepp @whateversomethingbruh @anime-weeb-4-life @daydreaming-belle @burningpeachpuppy @scarlettsakura @brownskinbaby22 @@divergent146 @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @withakindheartx

It’s been three years since Omar laid eyes on you, since the day he dropped you off at JFK airport. You’d had to catch a flight back to Delaware in order to care for your father. He’s thought about you often since then, wondering what you’re up to, how you’re doing.

When he sees you again at a crime scene in Brooklyn, he can’t believe it. He had no idea you were back in New York. The Human Trafficking Task Force operates out of their Brooklyn-Queens residency, they’ve been called in because Omar’s case has developed into something unexpected. Back in the day that’s where you’d been assigned, it looks like you’ve returned to the position.

For a moment it feels like the world stands still. Your eyes meet and it’s like the past three years haven’t happened. It comes back in a rush, all of those emotions chasing through his body, His feelings haven’t changed, not really, he’s still as in love with you as he was the day he dropped you off at the airport.

You don’t get a chance to talk, you’re busy interviewing the victims, reallocating them to the relevant resources. Part of your work is to ensure that each victim receives the support they deserve, in both an immediate and long-term capacity. This is the thing that you excel at, victim support. You have a dedication that goes far beyond the normal scope of any investigator he’s ever met. Your empathy is one of the reasons he fell in love with you in the first place, your ability to instil a sense of peace in the chaos that surrounds you.

It becomes a joint operation; you end up in the JOC discussing the details of the trafficking ring you’ve been investigating over the past few months. The story you tell is harrowing, he can tell it’s made it’s mark on you, you wear it on your features as you describe the conditions that you found the girls in, some as young as eleven. It sickens every single one of them.

He catches up with you in the breakroom afterwards. You’re trying to stifle a yawn behind your hand as you stir four sugars into your coffee mug. You usually take one.

“Burning the candle at both ends?” He asks as he picks up his own mug and decants coffee and hot water into it.

“I’ve been on this case for the past thirty-six hours.” You tell him, rubbing the space between your eyes. “Your crime scene wasn’t the first one I’ve been to in the past few days.”

It goes like that with human trafficking. If the smugglers get even the faintest inclination that they’ve been compromised, they move the stock or dispose of it.

“I didn’t know you were back in the city.” He says quietly as he stirs in the creamer.

You lean against the worksurface alongside of him, your shoulder brushing against his.

“I got back a few months ago.” You say as you raise your mug to your lips. “I kept meaning to reach out, but things got a little busy.”

Omar knows how it works. You’d come back to New York, hit the ground running. He knows you would have wanted to move on after Delaware, immerse yourself in the work. It’s how you dealt with a lot of things.

“I’m sorry about your dad.” He says softly, studying your features.

He sees the sadness in you, you’ve done well to hide it but the grief it clings to you like a well-worn coat.

“We had a good couple of years together, but he declined quickly towards the end.” You shake your head as you clasp the mug to your chest. “It’s the nature of it you know?”

He does know, his uncle had died of the same thing not long before he met you. He’d seen the toll the treatment took, how quickly things can change and go downhill. That’s why he never begrudged you leaving, he wanted you to have as much time with your father as you possibly could. His hand takes yours as he meets your eyes.

“I do know.” He says, his thumb tracing over the hollow of your wrist.

You give him a watery smile, squeezing his fingers before the door to the break room opens and you release it.

You’re exhausted by the time case is over, it’s been over seventy-two hours and you’re running on fumes. He can see the weariness in you, it’s in the way you rub at your red-rimmed eyes, the single tap pf your finger on the keyboard as scroll through the report checking for errors. He knows what the aftermath is like, when the adrenaline leaks out of your body and the fatigue crashes in on you.

“Let me take you home.” He says, his hand coming to rest upon your shoulder, his thumb chasing over the nape of your neck. He massages that tense little knot between your shoulder blades, and you make that noise, the one he still hears in his dreams. “You’re too tired to drive.”

He walks you to your apartment door, fingertips brushing yours as you walk side by side. That connection between the two of you, it’s still there thrumming just under the surface, the way it always has been.

When he steps into your apartment, he can’t help but smile. The essence of your personality emanates from the walls, his fingertips run over the blanket that’s folded over the back of the couch, the one your mother quilted. He remembers it draped over the bottom of your bed in the last place.

“Come to bed with me.” You say softly, your fingers entwining with his. “I know you’re tired too.”

There’s such tenderness in his gaze as you undress each other, his warm hands drawing the fabric from your form. His thumb chases over the line of your jaw.

“All I want to do is to climb into bed and hold you.” He whispers as he looks into your eyes. “The way that we used to.”

“I want that too.” You tell him.

When you get into bed, Omar wraps his arms around you and draws you close. He buries his face into the curve of your throat, inhaling the scent of nectarines that clings to your skin.

“I’ve missed this.” He whispers as his lips ghost across your ear. “I missed you.”

Love Omar? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#omar zidan #omar zidan x reader #omar zidan x you #oa zidan #oa zidan x reader #oa zidan x you #o.a. zidan #o.a. zidan x reader #o.a. zidan x you #fbi

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underforeversgrace · 5 months

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bent but not yet broken - 1

title: bent but not yet broken

words: 933

Finally, it's Ecto-Implosion time! I was partnered with the amazing @deathcomes4u and their absolutely AMAZING artwork!

Story Summary:

How short a time had Danny even been here? He’d already lost track of the days. Had he been here a week? A month? It was amazing what a void time became when every second was an all-consuming pain.

Danny Phantom has been captured by the GIW. The students of Casper High are protesting. Sam and Tucker have been notably absent, working with the Fentons to get Danny back.

What happens when the GIW bring back the hero, muzzled and beaten, on display for all of Casper High to see?

Chapter 1 of 7: Smothered by the Dusk

AO3

Tumblr Chapter Two will be here.

~~~~~~

Danny had thought the pain would get more manageable the longer the Guys in White had him. That the more he suffered, the more numb he’d become.

He was wrong.

Every breath he drew made his chest burn - though he was still unsure if that was from the Y-incision (half healed and haphazardly stitched) or the excised lung. Who knew a person could live with only one lung?

He’s a ghost, he doesn’t need to breathe! one of the agents had said.

And if his heart weren’t beating, I’d be inclined to agree with you, another had said. We should be careful, he’s very human.

That had been the one - and only - time Danny’d had hope since his capture. It had still been his first hour in their custody, all they’d done to him by that point had been the muzzle and subsequent electrocutions. When they called him human, he thought they’d stop; he thought that maybe they were more human than he and his little band had believed.

And that was when he’d gotten to listen to a debate on whether or not they could remove at least one of his lungs safely - humans with severe illness or damage to a single lung could often live full lives, after all, they’d said.

For humans, it was a last resort. For him, it was a fun start to a science experiment. In eager and excited voices, while he was chained down to a cold table, a muzzle that burned his skin strapped to his face, they discussed all the things they wanted to do to him before taking his other lung and heart - it was the last thing they wanted to do.

They didn’t want to kill him too soon.

Danny, by now, wished they had cut his heart out the first day, and that (hopefully) it would’ve let him die.

Though it may not have killed him. Apparently, he was regrowing the stolen lung, based on the scientists’ ‘follow up exploratory surgeries.’

And, as fascinating as that had been, it had led to them curiously amputating his hand and sewing it back on.

He still wasn’t sure if he was relieved or horrified when his hand had successfully reattached to his wrist after only a few days. Relieved that, well, his hand wasn’t gone.

Horrified because of how much worse this capture could be if he was unable to be killed.

How short a time had he even been here? He’d already lost track of the days. Had he been here a week? A month? It was amazing what a void time became when every second was an all-consuming pain.

Danny had tried a few methods, at first, to keep track of the comings and goings of the agents, to see if that helped him keep time. It hadn’t - sometimes he’d see the same agents for multiple back to back experiments, sometimes he’d see them every two or three, sometimes he was left alone.

In the long list of things he was unsure of was if it was worse when the experiments were going or when they weren’t. He was always in pain, regardless, but when he was alone, all he had were his thoughts and the unimpeded view of the reflective glass above him, allowing him to catalog his injuries in excruciating detail.

At least when the scientists were there, he could get lost in the hum of their voices. It was fascinating information, really, it was. So long as he didn’t acknowledge it was him they were talking about. Plus, when they were present, he got shots of extra power suppressant, which made his mind all flowy and the pain hazy, if only for a little while.

Danny laid there, by himself for now, and stared up at the ceiling, at his own reflection. This had been the longest he’d ever been left alone since he got here.

His jumpsuit could regenerate on its own, but it never had been able to fully mend between the scientists’ visits. Now, however, it was in pristine condition, and had been for over a hundred of his slow heartbeats (his only somewhat consistent measure of time in this hellhole).

It was nice to not see the scars that covered nearly every inch of his body, even if they pulsed with pain that still left him acutely aware of them. He almost looked like himself again - if he ignored the glowing green cage over the lower half of his face, connected to a collar circling his throat, skin severely burned along the edges of it all. The edge of the muzzle dug into his skin and the gag between his teeth forced his jaw open. It had stolen his voice, stolen away his ability to scream and beg for mercy.

He could feel where his teeth had cracked and his jaw had fractured from all the times he’d still tried, though. The sounds of his cries stayed stuck in his throat through all of it, and the silent screams were pulled from him whether he wanted them to or not.

Pulling his gaze from the muzzle back to his suit, his mind wandered. If his suit had had so long to heal… why would they leave him alone this long? The last thing they had done was give him an injection directly into his heart that had made his entire body feel sore. Were they finally done with him?

…then why not just kill him? They weren’t just going to leave him here, strapped down like a biology experiment to rot forever, right?

…right?

#grace writes #danny phantom #danny fenton #ectoimplosion2023 #cw gore #cw violence #i don't even know what all content warnings this needs tbh

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suffersinfandom · 5 months

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A Summary of The OFMD Meta

Sooooo... this is part one of an incomplete summary of A Meta-Discussion Of The Subtext by meratrishoslee (Mera) on AO3 (linked to, as the author requests). I hope it’s helpful to the folks who’ve been curious about it -- heyooo @fahbee and @pushbuttonkitty -- but maybe not quite 90K-words curious! I’m not going to comment on anything; this is meant to be an impartial -as-possible summary.

It's massively long, so this is just the first eight chapters.

“There’s every possibility you are still in your feelings as you read this, even weeks after the finale. You are in your autonomous knee-jerk reaction, adrenaline-spike, slapped across the face, feeling-so-betrayed-right-now moment. You’re valid. That’s absolutely what’s happened… on the surface. But as you take a deep breath and begin to examine logically what’s in the show and engage with the material both in its text and subtext, you will see a new concept begin to take shape.” (Mera)

Chapter 1: Overview

Some background: Mera was involved with The Johnlock Conspiracy and believes that TJLCers weren’t wrong. (If you want a fun watch, I recommend Sarah Z’s YouTube video.) Essentially, TJLCers believe that Sherlock and Watson of BBC’s Sherlock were supposed to be endgame, and this can be proved with careful analysis. This is often paired with the idea that there is a missing fourth episode to the show’s fourth season that will eventually air and confirm all theories.

Mera defines ‘text’ and ‘subtext.’ Text is “dialogue lines / Shot choices and directions / Visible actions, describable as stage directions.” Subtext is “every single other thing, as well as what is suggested by or can be inferred from the text above.”

“Whenever something doesn’t make sense in the text, it is a BEACON (or maybe even a LIGHTHOUSE) to look at the subtext. Your subconscious mind recognizes subtext long before your conscious mind parses it -- assuming it ever does.”

The rest of the chapter is devoted to short descriptions of Mera’s key assertions with links to relevant chapters and their convention experiences. They cite talking to Con O’Neill at Florida Supercon 2023 as one of their reasons for believing so strongly that Izzy Hands is alive:

I asked him for advice in a specific time of trouble, and he gave me something real that had worked for him. I asked for a hug and he gave that also.

As I was pulling away I said "I’m glad that I gleaned one absolutely true thing from your portrayal of Izzy."

“What’s that?”

I said: "The character (in my original work) that Izzy inspired – when he’s out of pain at last, it’s impossible not to love him."

That seemed to hit him on an emotional level; he couldn’t hold my gaze after that. He said “That’s what I’ll be taking with me today.”

This was July 1st 2023, after completion of the filming of Season 2. I've thought about it often as the season went on, and how it must have affected him.

We have to love Izzy so that he'll live.

Mera spoke to Con again at NYCC:

The last thing I managed to get to say to him was: "They gave Izzy Hands a Passion Play."

"They did?" he asked.

"Yes, they did!" I replied.

And I watched that brilliantly swift mind again at work, because he considered it for the briefest beat -- and said in a tone of joy: "They did; yeah, you're right!"

I remember for the minutes and hours after I was amazed: did he not know, somehow? Did the writers not tell him (and he didn't realize at any time since) that in first quarter of the series they'd given him Gethsemane, a betrayal, a crucifixion (okay, getting shot in the leg and head, but don't get stuck on the details), a burial, and then a full on canonical resurrection?

Con then said another very important thing:

"But I got over it."

[...]

If Izzy's dead (for real and forever dead) and he knew it, then what he said to me was on a level of cruelty that I could never countenance from him. If Izzy lives, then those words are yet another piece of proof to me that Con was clever enough to be right both for someone who'd only seen five episodes, and someone who would eventually see all eight.

Chapter 2: The Cup and Ball Trick

The chapter is an extended “game” of cup and ball (where a ball is hidden under a cup and the guesser needs to determine which cup it’s under) interspersed with pictures from OFMD at various points in season two. It ends on a shot of Izzy’s grave where his body definitely isn’t.

The important takeaway: Izzy returns from the dead once to shoot Ed during Ed’s final suicide attempt. Ed returns from the dead after the near-fatal mutiny. Why would you think Izzy’s actually dead and in his grave at the end of the show?

“I didn't cry at the finale -- I was too filled with joy and excitement. I was Mary Magdalene at the grave; I was one of the first to know the truth of the resurrection, whether or not anyone believed me!”

Chapter 3: OUR LOVE MEANT DEATH

"..because if [Izzy] doesn't [live], with what I know now, his death is a cruelty struck at every queer individual alive or dead since 1981.”

Mera observes that almost no one touches Izzy’s bare skin and Izzy bleeds more than any other recurring character.

There are two times someone touches Izzy’s bare skin: first when his screams are being muffled when he yells at Jim and Archie to kill him, second when Ed puts the gun in Izzy’s ungloved hand during his first go at suicide.

Conclusion: "Izzy is coded with AIDS.”

Ed holding his bloody hand up to the rest of the crew away when Izzy is dying is a “warding-off gesture.”

Izzy is pale and sickly-looking as he’s dying. “My gorge rises. In the year of our Lord Shiva 2023 -- THEY GAVE THE MOST QUEER CODED CHARACTER ON THE SHOW A FUCKING AIDS DEATH.”

Izzy touches someone else’s bare skin twice in the show, and both instances are Ed. The first is in S1E10 “where he puts his left Death-marked hand on Edward's wrist as he's choking him.” The second is in S2E8 as he’s dying “in his ex-lover’s arms” (notably, this is the same hand with the spade tattoo).

“If Izzy's well and truly dead, for real and stays dead... He is in media both the first historically and the most recent chronologically to receive a full on AIDS death.”

“Until they prove to me and all of us that only Izzy's grief and the specter of AIDS remains in the grave -- and the rest of our beloved boy, our new unicorn (oh hey do you know what Problematic Modern Culture says about unicorn blood?), our pure-hearted risen being, our self-sacrificing queer man, will get his chance to be touched, held, kissed, and LOVED in Season 3.”

Chapter 4: “The Third Was For Death”

“Season 1 was Pinocchio: a wooden puppet wants to become a real boy -- and does! Hip hip hooray; that was pretty easy. Wow, the cute tall young guy of the crew lost a finger and the mean nasty short grouch that some people hate and some people like (because they understand him on a visceral, subconscious, subtextual level) lost a toe -- but if that's the worst that happens, we came out okay!”

Season two is “The Monkey’s Paw.” Mera tells the story with pictures from OFMD to emphasize the connections. Importantly, there’s an instance of a couple’s son coming back wrong after a wish (Lucius). The final wish returns the son to his previously-dead state and Mera ends on a picture of Izzy’s grave.

The cast’s and crews’ interviews might not support the real narrative because they’re not allowed to say what they want to (“Ever had to develop code language to hide your queerness from your parents, your teachers, the state?”) They’re all “in distress” and trying to tell us without telling us.

“Why does the new (old broken down) house smell like death? Why does everything we wished for that we got feel bad? Why does everything we're supposed to be happy about feel sad? How long would it take YOU to spot someone blinking out the word T-O-R-T-U-R-E?”

Mera hopes that the next season won’t tell us certain a new story: George Orwell’s 1984.

Chapter 5: Where Were We? Oh Yes, In The Pit Of Despair

This chapter is about The Princess Bride as it relates to Izzy’s story in seasons two and three of OFMD. It’s a comparison based mostly on costumes and lines; there are no one-for-one character comparisons. Vitally, the plot of TPB is used to predict the next season of OFMD.

Season two of OFMD ends at the part of TPB when Westley is thought to be dead (Izzy in his grave). Westley is revived, soooo…

“At what point does a preponderance of evidence flip over into fact? At what point does a handful of chance coincidences become planning and architecture? At what point do you go beyond a reasonable doubt into conviction?”

Chapter 6: Birdman and Blackbeard: Or, How To Watch Media

This chapter is about analyzing media. Once you learn how, you stop being a passive watcher.

“Instead you read its rhymes and rhythms like a sonnet. You go to the media in return – you meet it halfway, like a lover. You engage with it. You find themes embedded in the subtext that, once unearthed and examined, continue to inform and expand your experience of the text.”

“The people that like things nice and easy are the ones that watched the finale of Season 2, got angry and upset and – instead of examining those feelings and sitting with them and figuring out why everything felt weird and fucky – wrote it off as bad writing and cruel showrunners, and are already onto the next piece of media to pour into their open eyes and ears.”

And that’s fine! But if you like to think, you interrogate the media and see what else it’s saying.

Mera summarizes The Hero’s Journey through the lens of Orpheus’ story.

Season two mirrors season one almost too well. “...Why are they recreating their first season almost beat by beat? Why is this “second verse, same as the first – only a little bit louder and (in many cases) worse? Then Episode 8 hit… and I realized. They wanted to make sure that, in every conceivable way, the fans had a subtextual map of the meaning of Episode 8. So the mirrors between seasons had to line up almost exactly.”

Now we go into the three-act structure and how the hero’s journey maps onto it. Mera then uses Birdman or (The Unexpected Virtue Of Ignorance) and to show how they personally analyze meta, but I don’t care nearly enough about what they’ve gleaned from Birdman to go into it here. You’ll have to go read it yourself if you want their methods.

“Remember: Everything on screen in the finished and published movie is a choice. If something doesn’t make sense on a textual level, it is often a signpost (or LIGHTHOUSE) to look at it on a subtextual level.”

Mera points to an article about three-act structure and notes that “fun and games” is both part of that author’s second act and the title of an OFMD episode.

“Are we being fucked with? Or are we being instructed?”

Chapter 7: If You Strip Away The Myth From The Man

It’s the Jesus Christ Superstar chapter and it’s massive. I’m only including the most substantial comparisons and points.

Mera starts by linking to a gifset of Con talking about Taika saying that Izzy and Blackbeard are comparable to Judas and Jesus (and then Taika and Con sang songs from JCS while getting their makeup done). Notably, Con didn’t specify which character was which.

Blackbeard is a myth created by (of) two men, Ed and Izzy. “there's always two male bodies involved: Jesus and Judas, and both sacrifice themselves to the cause.”

It’s easy to say that Izzy is Judas, but wait -- there’s a better and deeper interpretation! Look at this picture from S1 that resembles the Last Supper and frames Izzy as Jesus! “Now I finally understood. Sure: Izzy is Judas-coded. That's plain for anyone to see. But Izzy is also Jesus-coded… from the under/reverse side.”

Izzy is Jesus-coded for all of season one (even more than Ed), and the comparison is solidified by the end of S2E3: “Izzy Hands is almost fully and directly Jesus-coded, and after Ed's own resurrection (not as an agape-love self-sacrifice for the saving of others, but through selfish personal/eros love alone) Edward is now obviously the betrayer of the whole crew who is permitted to stay aboard only on terms of sackcloth clothing and uneasy tolerance.”

Judas died by hanging himself according to the Gospel of Matthew. The only characters we see hanging are Ed and Stede, which clearly aligns them with Judas.

Izzy is a good person. He cares about the crew; Ed never does. When Izzy’s wrong, he fesses up to it and apologies; Ed does not (or when he does, the apologies are bad). “Does he lie? Yes, ostensibly to protect his captain and crew. Is he fairly mean to the Revenge crew until they [...] become his crew? Pretty much, although I could argue otherwise in places -- especially the fact that while Ed throws Lucius violently and bodily off the ship without any warning, Izzy carefully puts the crew on a safe island with a minor fuckery of his own to keep them calm and happy until he leaves. (It's obviously not Edward's idea, although he does permit Izzy to put himself between the deadly Kraken and the Revenge's crew in order to accomplish it.) Is he selfish? Yes, and who of us aren’t sometimes selfish about the people we love?”

Jesus and Judas have massive amounts of sexual tension (yeah, can confirm). Izzy is Jesus-coded because, while he doesn’t initiate contact like Jesus does in JCS, he’s always looking directly at Ed. Ed is Judas-coded because he has a hard time looking at Izzy and finds it difficult to touch him.

“...If Izzy Hands is a queer man who is Jesus-coded, who we see go through not one but TWO passion plays during Season 2... [near-death after having his leg removed, end-of-season death] he is conquering the death of HIV/AIDS and queer grief. He has to die so that he can vanquish that very real death, and arise again triumphant over it.”

“One direct correspondence with Jesus is that Izzy is convinced of one right way to be (whether or not it actually is), and everything outside of that offends him viscerally at this point in the series.” Izzy is convinced that there’s one right way to be a pirate, and Stede’s fucking that up.

And back to AIDS/reverse-Jesus Izzy: “Now among the lepers we're back to the reversal: no one touches Izzy. He’s desperate for it yet can never allow it. Jesus’s touch, kiss, love cures – and everyone seeks it and craves it. They demand it, they swamp and overwhelm him. Jesus's naked touch/kiss/love cures disease -- Izzy's carries and spreads it.”

“Judas/Edward makes his deal with the priesthood/King George to betray Jesus/Izzy – his price is 30 pieces of silver/Stede’s life.” That is, Ed is the one doing the betraying in season one.

But the real betrayal happens when he cuts off Izzy’s toe and feeds it to him while he’s vulnerable. Important note for the AIDS stuff: “...Edward puts on leather gauntlets immediately prior to this assault -- he ‘gloves up.’ He doesn't have direct naked contact with Izzy's blood or flesh during this scene.” The toe-feeding scene is absolutely framed as sexual assault.

And the toe thing continues into season two. “Sit with that also for a moment: the faux consent of making Izzy remove his own clothing to bare his body parts for this violation. Is it too far a stretch to think that Ed also made him eat each one, in their own private, gristly sacrament? He did threaten to ‘feed him the rest’ after all.”

Here is the outline of Izzy’s first “passion play”:

Izzy's Last Supper: all the toes eaten before as well as the one threatened now.

Izzy's Gethsemane, wherein he begs his God for the cup to be removed: he tries to bargain his and the crew's way out with his conversation with Blackbeard, to find an alternative to the self-destructive violence.

Izzy is betrayed by his Judas (again): shot in the leg for the 'crime' of mentioning Stede Bonnet's name, or Blackbeard's affection toward him.

Izzy descends into the grave: lays in a secret tunnel in what we can believe is the lowest part of the ship, while rotting enough to be smelled throughout.

Izzy dies: he shoots himself in the head and both we and Blackbeard believe him to be dead.

Izzy is risen: he hauls himself up out of his own grave without assistance from anyone else, crawls to the main deck, reloads his pistol somewhere along the way -- and shows himself to his followers crew at last, in order to bring about their salvation.

Con himself said that this is a passion play, and it takes up a massive chunk of the first part of the season. You don’t throw something massive like that into a show unless you’ve got something bigger coming.

But Judas dies before OFMD ends (mapping OFMD onto JCS), so now who is Ed? He’s Pontius Pilate. There’s the whipping of Jesus (Izzy’s back scars), then Pilate kneels down to hold the bleeding Jesus in his arms. It’s this specific Pieta statue.

“Izzy has to die to conquer his own living death, to end the curse that has kept him untouchable and unable to be loved as he so desperately desires.” There’s the crucifixion for you. Izzy dies and is buried, and we’re still waiting on the resurrection.

The last shot in JCS is of the empty cross; the last shot of OFMD S2 is Izzy’s grave. “If the cross in the last and arguably the most significant shot of JCS symbolizes the triumph of resurrection and rebirth... the one in OFMD S2 must also.”

Alex Sherman liked one of Mera’s Izzy Lives tweets that he was tagged in.

Chapter 8: The Dual Substance Of Christ

Now we’re looking at The Last Temptation of Christ. This is another long and involved one, so I’m cutting a lot of minor things that don’t serve the overall meta. (I also know fuck-all about this movie, oops.)

“An argument can be made (and I will attempt it) that Judas in this instance is not only the show creators/writers room of OFMD who had to put their much beloved boy Izzy Hands through all this agony... but also we the Unseen Crew who adore him, who have suffered alongside him through all he's endured, and who want nothing more than to have him back and whole in resurrected triumph.”

TLTC presents another reason to identify Lucius with Mary Magdalene (and notably, Jesus can’t touch Mary -- because Izzy is AIDS-coded). Once again, there’s an immense amount of sexual tension between Jesus and Judas.

This Jesus is angry and this God is fearsome. Judas does a lot of slamming-Jesus-into-walls, much like Ed and Izzy in S1E10.

Jesus confirms that he is a heart and he loves, which solidifies Izzy’s position as the heart of Blackbeard.

In his final trial in the desert, Jesus’ final tempter appears as flames. Izzy and Ed both play with flames when they lie.

“Izzy is pretty much Jesus-coded as I explained in the JCS meta… but here also due to the timing and content of this scene, Izzy’s also Lazarus-coded.He dies, he goes into the pit of the grave, he smells of rot, then he is raised from the dead.” Lazarus and Izzy both have a rough time of being alive again and drink about it.

Jesus says “I have to die on the cross, and I have to die willingly.” This parallels Izzy saying that he wants to go when he’s dying. Judas doesn’t want Jesus to die, which puts him more in line with Jenkins and company than any characters.

“But Izzy has to die, in order to conquer death. He’s lived with the specter of HIV/AIDS that has separated him from loving touch and the sharing of physical intimacy. He has to go into the grave to leave his disease and his queer grief behind, and to be reborn to love.”

On the cross, Jesus says, “Father, stay with me. Don’t leave me.” As he’s dying, Izzy tells Ed, “Sit with me, Eddie.”

“I feel sick, and I think I’m supposed to. It’s supposed to hurt. Both Izzy's death and Jesus's crucifixion are supposed to be two of the realest and most awful and most beautiful things I’ve ever seen on television.”

In TLTJ, there’s an extended part of the movie where Jesus is in a kind of gravy basket. The events are all kind of odd. They involve Jesus sleeping with Mary (the reborn unicorn, free of AIDS and safe to touch). Jesus returns to his body, suffers, and dies.

TLTJ doesn’t cover Jesus’ resurrection. “We have to trust what we know of the story: that Jesus is risen, and only death itself remains in his grave.”

On to the next!

#ofmd #ofmd meta #but like ofmd meta summary #which is wild #izzy critical #i mean not really #it's a summary #no commentary from me #continuing the trend of spending hours on something for like three people to read #hey tumblr why is my spacing wonky when i post

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ygobigbang · 2 months

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Everyone, thank you very much for the responses! We’ll go over our plans for what to do next, and what you should keep an eye out for!

Firstly, thank you for all your patience for the new mod team! You can find us and our experience listed HERE as well as our names on our Tumblr page (desktop mode). We hope you continue to give us your support as we settle into our new roles.

Second, for all the Misawas and number lovers out there, we'll go over the IC numbers after the end of this announcement.

And third and most important of all, we’re announcing our first project as a SPRING SEASON MINI-BANG. We’ll be releasing more details over the coming week, and hopefully have sign-ups ready by the end of the month. This will be a much smaller event, with 1k minimums, so that everyone can get used to working together and getting warmed up before the main event!

Once again, thank you for your interest, and we’ll see you soon!

And now, from Mod Pan, this:

First off, "Do you want to participate in a General/All Series Bang?"

That's 62,7% yes, 37,3% maybe, and no "No"s! Love to see how people interested in talking about it want to participate, should circumstances allow.

Next is "If yes, what role?"

At 40,3% writers take the lead, but 32,8% artists and 26,9% as a combo of both means people of all artistic tendencies are well-distributed!

So we've got the peeps, so when do we start? That's the next question!

The two leaders were a (North) Summer Start at 67,2%, followed by a (North) Spring Start at 25%. The other results were one vote each, for 'either', 'both', 'anytime', 'not sure', and a shout-out to whoever asked if these seasons were North or Southern Hemisphere- They're all North, for the record, due to that being where the majority of the mods are located. It was a good heads-up, though, and I'll try to mention specific months next time alongside seasonal names.

Last two multiple-choice questions!

For writers, what minimum word count are you comfortable with?

The clear winner here was 10k words, at 48,3%, with 15k next at 13,3%. A full 26% were just artists clicking the "I'm an Artist" button, and the other options (5k, 25k, and 'anything from 10-20k depending on concept") got a single vote each, except 20k words, which came in around 8% instead. I like this excitement!

And for the artists: What fic length are you most comfortable working with?

Everyone continues having 10k as their sweet spot number, as the 36,7% votes show, and this has definitely been taken into account. Next is 15k at 25%, and every subsequent 5k increment loses another 5% votes. And to the two who don't really know and are just gonna go with the flow, and are willing to read all the way up to 50k as long as the concept interests you, we'll do our best at matchmaking so it won't feel like a sacrifice, no matter how excited the writers get!

And that's it for math time! The non-multiple choice answers won't be discussed here, since even without names attached those were private responses, but do be sure the mod team has read all of them and will be keeping all of them in mind going forward.

See y'all next time!

#yugioh #big bang #fandom event #ygo #ygo 5ds #ygo arc v #ygo dm #ygo go rush #ygo vrains #yugioh go rush #ygo sevens #ygo gx

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samaellevampire · 5 months

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Single cloud

Paring: Phantom and Rain (Raintom)

Genre: Hurt/comfort

SFW

Words: 1,112

Summary: Phantom feels like he is less loved by Copia since he is new and replaces Aether. Rain will comfort him.

Warning: A little crying, feeling less loved.

Below the cut people please.

A sunny afternoon playing together in the ministry's huge garden, what more could you ask for? Copia had even joined his ghouls outside to enjoy the good weather and have fun with them.

Just Phantom was missing. It's been a few days since the young ghoul seemed to have a fog-filled head. The others have noticed that, he seems sad and thoughtful at the moment. Every time someone asks him how he's feeling, he forces himself to give a big, obviously fake, smile and say that everything is fine.

The others stopped asking him when they realized they would probably never get an explanation. They're just trying to take his mind off him and avoid being pushy.

This noon, during the meal, Phantom barely spoke and he seemed stuck in his world. Which is strange because he's usually the first to participate in discussions and accompany Swiss in his jokes. Another detail did not escape Rain, his friend's eyes were red and swollen. He looked so tired. As if a single cloud had been above his head for several days even though it was wonderful weather outside.

The water ghoul would have wanted to speak to him alone after the meal to find out what was bothering him but the latter had fled. Phantom had left the table as quickly as he could to return to his room.

Now that Rain is here, having fun with the others under the sun, he feels guilty. Guilty because Phantom isn't doing well and no one is going to see him. The water ghoul sighs and decides to fix this. No matter what his friend's problem is, he will find a solution.

Rain signals to his friends that he will be back in a few moments and gives a small wave before leaving. He confidently crosses the large corridors of the ministry towards the young ghoul's room. Once he arrives at the right door he stops. All the confidence he had gained while he was walking just vanished.

The water ghoul takes a deep breath then knocks gently on the old wood of the door. No answer. He tries again, thinking that perhaps his friend didn't hear him. Always nothing. He sighs a little then slowly opens the door. He coughs to indicate his presence to his friend who is curled up on his bed with his back to the door.

"It's Rain, I came to see how you were." He said with a soft voice, walking slowly into the room, worried and hesitant. "I thought maybe...we could talk?"

He continues to take small steps and ends up seeing his friend's face. He sits delicately on the edge of the bed when he sees that he is crying.

"Hey baby bug, what's going on? Why are you crying? Did something happen to you?" He's even more worried than before but he tries not to show it or let it be heard in his voice.

"Nothing. Everything's fine." He said sobbing, quickly wiping away the tears that had flowed down his slightly reddened face. “You can go back and have fun with the others.”

Rain raises an eyebrow unconvinced at the answer he got then sits down in the middle of the bed leaning back on the pillows. “Can I touch you?”

Phantom nods slowly, sniffling. He is turned around by his friend so that he can be held in his arms. He hesitates for a moment then lays his head on his gill friend's chest. Making his t-shirt wet by continuing to cry and hugging him tighter.

Rain strokes his back and hair gently to try to calm him down. He had understood very well that the young ghoul would not say anything without having had time to calm down before and until he had decided to do so. So there's no point in rushing him. He had to give her time. It was about ten minutes later that the crying stopped. Little sniffles from time to time but it's nothing.

"I'm sorry about your t-shirt... It's soaked now." He said in a small, feverish voice, sniffing and wiping a few tears from the corners of his eyes.

"It doesn't matter if it helped you, bug." He said, giving a reassuring smile while tucking a lock of hair behind his friend's ear. “Would you like to talk to me about what’s wrong?”

The soft and reassuring voice of the water ghoul has its effect. The young ghoul thought for a moment about what he could say to him. He speaks softly, looking down hesitantly. "I want to, but I'm afraid you'll find it ridiculous or make fun of me..."

He lifts his head gently, holding his chin, then gently caresses his cheek with his thumb while he looks into his eyes. "I won't make fun of you Phantom. I promise."

"O-okay then I'll tell you." He said smiling slightly. Rain reassures him a lot and he feels safe with him. He takes a deep breath and then speaks a little hesitantly. "I'm- I'm afraid Copia won't like me."

The water ghoul raises his eyebrows a little surprised as he continues to caress his friend's cheek. “What makes you think that?”

"Well...I'm new to the group. He's known you for longer. I figured maybe he likes me less than you or less than Aether since they still spend time together." He says with a small voice and avoiding his friend's gaze because of the shame he feels at this moment.

"Copia loves you. The ghouls love you. The fans love you. The whole ministry loves you. I love you..." The water ghoul hugs him a little tighter and gives him a kiss on the head between his two horns before smiling at him. "I'm truly sorry if anyone did something that made you think the opposite. You are important here and Copia loves you just as much as the others. It's not because you're new that he loves you any less and what's more, you're not alone in this. Aurora does too is new."

“You’re lying to reassure me, huh?” He said in a small voice, sighing desperately.

"I would never lie to you about anything serious. I swear, little bug." He said sincerely, giving a small reassuring smile.

"Okay, I believe you. Thanks for everything Raincloud." He says smiling reassured as he holds his friend in his arms. He looks up quickly afterwards, displaying a big smile, sincere this time. His smile reveals his fangs and his tail moves from left to right playfully. "Are we going to play with the others? I have to go and bother Swiss."

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impulsivesuperrobin · 1 year

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i saw a post talking about neverafter slander on twitter so i went to check it out

here are some thoughts: (keep in mind, i’m not calling anyone out or saying your opinion isn’t valid if you agree with one of these points. try to read this as a light hearted discussion, like talking about a book with a friend)

a lot of it is people saying the season wasn’t horror enough and while i agree it’s not exactly as straightforward horror as the marketing suggested i think that that’s a take that is fundamentally misunderstanding what this is. it’s the horror season of dimension 20 which is a d&d show first and foremost. it’s not going to be following the beats of a horror movie because that’s not what they’re doing. when you run a horror campaign you fold in horror elements which they have been excellent at doing especially in the eldritch and existential categories

not to make assumptions but it seems to me that a lot of people making a big fuss about this haven’t played d&d for themselves. the things i have seen suggested the most for making the season more in line with the horror people were expecting involves turning the campaign into a more dm vs players situation (which is joked about a lot in fandom but in more of a meta humor way than is being suggested). this is something that anyone who has ever played in a bad campaign knows makes it a hell of a lot less fun to play and, i’m assuming, not so fun to watch either. the point of playing d&d is to work together to tell a story, if you go into to making a campaign with the goal of making your players lose, everyone is going to be miserable and your story is going to suck.

following that, some people are ragging on brennan for forgetting details and not having the lore entirely fleshed out. as someone who does unnecessary worldbuilding for homebrew campaigns every single time, i would just like to say on behalf of dms everywhere: it’s hard! there’s so much stuff to keep track of and so little time to keep the lore straight if you want the session to keep moving smoothly, i’m sure it’s even harder when you have a limited time to film the episodes/season

and maybe it’s just me, but i love horror movies (and other media) and neverafter is about as scary as most horror movies i’ve seen. it’s definitely better written than a lot of horror movies, we get to know the characters and are fully invested in them when bad things happen. it’s sort of on the level as the hellraiser reboot imo. some people make the point that besides the body horror, there’s not enough gore/blood kinda stuff, but i think gore isn’t truly horror, especially in a spoken format. it’s more of a shock factor thing, like a verbal jumpscare

and i’ve seen people saying that the pcs are too much like heroes/they’re too capable to be in any real danger, but in a horror movie, most of the bad things happen around the protagonist(s), they’re still thrown into the shit but most of the time they make it out. horror as a genre is so ill-defined anyway that people still debate if slashers and thrillers even count. plus, how many times in a movie has a side character been forgotten or something about the lore has been off? and that’s with multiple people overseeing the production.

jumping away from the “it’s not like the horror movie i envisioned” complaints, i’ve also seen a lot of people say it’s confusing??? and tbh i’m more confused about that than the campaign. to me it’s pretty straightforward, no more confusing than starstruck at the very least.

for the big picture: it’s different factions of people with conflicting (but occasionally overlapping) goals than all need to get to macguffin in order to reach whichever goal they’re aligned with

the pcs have their own character arcs which are very clearly laid out throughout the season

the minute details are there because that’s how you make your world feel lived in

and yeah, there’s a lot of potential in the stuff they could’ve done but didn’t. but i feel like that’s the whole point, y’know? this is the story they did tell, and the thousands of other ways they could’ve told the story live on like every retelling of a fairytale.

#tbh a lot of the criticism feels like people nitpicking to find stuff to hate but you can’t please everyone ig #feel free to disagree and tell me why! just please don’t turn my notes into a rage-bait discussion #dimension 20 #d20 #neverafter #dimension 20 neverafter

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cawcawbeech · 23 days

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SIX OF CROWS AND KISSING !!

(Welcome to this silly but intricate guide nobody asked for)

Just so everybody knows and is fully aware, I literally never kissed anybody in my whole damn life. I dont much care to try (for now) unless your name is Amita fucking Suman (jkjk, or not), but that doesnt mean I didnt do some very extensive research on the topic just so I can write what are hopefully non-generic scenes where all of my favorite characters make out till the following sunrise without a single other thought plaguing their empty little minds (exception being if the said thought is used to deepen 'the plot').

Before I say much else, I would like to note that THIS is just a very detailed bullet point list on kissing for all of my boys and girls separate of their partners assigned to them in canon or by the fandom. We will get to how it would actually go in different scenarios with different ships a bit later on if I decide it wont be a waste of my time. PS: No, not every kiss / kisser has to be extraordinary or unique or have whatever traits I ended up slapping on these characters here, Im just extra like that. And its not like anybody can stop me. Deal with it and simply enjoy (whatever this may be)!

→→→→→→→→→→→→→→→→→→→→→→→→→→→→→→→→→→→

JESPER LLEWELLYN FAHEY

Jesper has had his fair share of practice in this particular field, we all know it. That is no reason to say that he is a perfect kisser, there are many who have done way more, constantly brag about it, and yet still leave you disappointed. But, this is Jesper we are talking about. Kuwei has said that he is a great kisser too, I choose to trust him on that. That joke he made to cheer up Wylan at Olendaal, the one about kissing Nina / Matthias 'with tongue', it doesnt have to mean anything, but I like to think he is a tongue kind of guy. I also like to think that he is adaptable to any type of person though, he aims to please through-and-through. It saddens me to look deeper, to think about how that may be a result of his low self-esteem, but in moments like these, it makes him happy most of the time, and it is all I could hope for when it comes to my boy.

The first relationship he had been a witness to, the one his mother and father shared before her death, had been a very healthy one. I wouldnt call Colm the perfect father, certainly not after his wife was gone, albeit he is significantly better compared to the hands the rest of our favourite characters have been dealth with, but he was good to Aditi. Most kids, including myself, were the type to be grossed out by PDA, especially when its between their parents, and while thats not in any way a bad thing, we can clearly see that Jesper was not of that type.

Despite his many faults, he was raised fairly well. He knows how to make a comfortable environment, to recognize a clear invitation, what to ask and what not to ask, what is acceptable and what he shouldnt do without a more in-depth discussion. He knows how to create and opportunity where one could deny him if they so wished. I wouldnt say its some overly high bar to jump over, if anything it is the most basic standard any and all should hold themselves to, but I call Jesper 'the consent king' for a reason.

Its said in the book that his mind empties when he kisses the right person, that thinking of methaphors clearly means something is wrong, but hes still pretty descriptive in his POVs if you ask me. Its also very clear that he likes to kiss deep, slow, and involve other sensations throughout which is the part where Id like to include some of my very own hcs (slight temperature / texture play where he drags his rings over skin, hair pulling is a given but I can see him also liking to touch peoples ears a lot, talking in between and whispering during the few subtly initiated pauses, etc). Jespers favourite type of kiss would probably be those he iniciates as soon as he wakes up in the morning. It rains often in Ketterdam, its normal, so he would also probably be one of the rare creatures among the regular Kerch citizens who finds kissing in the rain romantic.

KAZ BREKKER (RIETVELD)

Kaz will have to go through some major healing first, no doubts about that, but Id say he would probably be one of the elite members of the 'Im keeping my eyes open for this' club (until he isnt). I doubt he does much analyzing during, mentally he is on another planet thats probably many lightyears away as he tends to do with a lot of other even remotely intimate things, but theres lots of squinting, eyelid fluttering... Kaz is basically a personafication of that cliche 'when did I close them' quote. In my own experience, I can barely hold eye contact when talking, but I dont really see this as a bad trait. I also dont see it as a trauma response either like some would assume it would be for Kaz, I think its just a him thing. If this man didnt want to kiss somebody, you would not be kissing him, end of.

He likes to focus on teeth, whether by unconsciously (or consciously) biting his partner, having your teeth bump into each other, or licking his own after youre done. Theres lots of shuddering, youll feel him there more than youll hear him, but he is not completely silent either. I dont think he would like beeing cornered, picked up or lifted in any way except on very rare occasions. Just like the pulse thing where he feels for it on the wrist (or neck once he is more comfortable), feeling his weight including the pain of his leg serves to ground him. Perhaps he might also like feeling of you breathing through your nose on his face for the same reasons? He doesnt like leaving things unfinished, even if its just a peck, he will make sure it feels 'complete', I dont know how else to put it. If anybody could overuse the words "Again?", it would be Kaz motherfucking Brekker.

Im in no way saying he will be good, in fact, theres lots of traits here that many wouldnt like, but he tries when he wants to (and again, you would not be kissing this man if he didnt want it), he will learn and he will remember the smallest of details (so that he can ponder over them later). The only thing we hear about Kazs appearance related to his mouth is that there is a scar running through his upper lip. I never got it when people talked about kisses having a taste, but Kaz seems to often call people light-weight, so clearly, he handles his alcohol well, perhaps having developed such a habit to settle down his own supposedly non-existent nerves. It might not be the main reason, we heard about him being on the receiving end of many fights that in certain circumstances and with the ways they are handled lead to similar results, but liquor does leave one dehydrated and with chapped lips.

WYLAN VAN ECK (HENDRIKS)

Unless he is particulary fired up, Wylan likes to start slow and chaste no matter if you are the first, the thousanth person he has kissed or just a person he has kissed a thousand times. Unlike Kaz, he has some experience, sheltered kids know how to have fun in secret (and Im the last person who would ignore that 'lie' about him being kicked out for bedding the tutor, theres some truth to everything), but he is also nowhere near the level of Jesper or Nina or Matthias. We know he likes when his partner feels calm and like they are actually in their body before he goes in for the kill, we saw it with Jesper, but we also see that he isnt the type who needs to ask every time and will just do it when 'the time feels right'. Look out, he just might squeeze into your shirt while youre wearing it and do a makeshift 'surprise attack' from there if he is determined enough for it.

From that, we could say he might have some other habits, including but not limited to the familiar one of guiding his partner through breathing patterns. Maybe sometimes he likes to hold onto your forearms more tightly than necessary (not forcefully though), have your knees touch and bump into one another, straighten his own / your items of clothing, compare hand sizes while making weirdly-intense eye contact, use his thumb to subtly rub at a random tensed muscle, touch foreheads if he is tall enough or rub his face along the side of your neck, anything that would focus your attention to him and the moment... Ironically, as a follow up to the last point and as the kiss drags on, he forgets that he is an actual person who has a weight to them and has to lean back against something with the help of his partner before he falls down and cracks his goddamn skull open.

He likes to leave an effect on whoever he is kissing, but he also likes to 'clean up after himself' as much as possible after its done, which once again serves to bring both of you back down. So yeah, he would probably do something like twirling a stay peace of hair around his finger before neatly tucking it back in place, running that same finger across a brow, down the nose or along the jawline, nudging you playfully with his shoulder, hips or elbows, swaying a bit to slowly return the atmosphere back to relaxed as he secretely links your pinky fingers together. Lips would be his main focus, and he especially likes the soothing effect it has when he is sleepy, but he could also grow to like eyelid, nose, tummy or thigh kisses when it comes to placement.

INEJ GHAFA

Inej has had many men kiss her throughout her life, and unfortunately, theres no need to debate whether she truly enjoyed any of them. Oh how I would love to say that every shitty person is also shit at every other skill they try to master, however, that doesnt have to be the case. The fact that she was a brothel girl doesnt have to mean all of her kisses were bad (to specify, that refers to the technique). That being said, I think she would appreciate the message more than the way its done. It also might result in her not exactly caring about the placement of a kiss, palm, knuckles, hair, cheek, neck, lips, any of them would be equally as intimate to her, platonic or otherwise. Its somewhat similar to what Wylan also likes, but very different too once you look further.

As is with Kaz, you would not be kissing the Inej we know now unless she didnt want you to. I probably should have said this earlier, no, I dont mean that any of the other Crows would enjoy a kiss that was not what they wanted, they wouldnt ignore the signs and will fight the person off if needed, but I hope you understand why Im emphasizing it for these two in particular. I think her kisses would be short, but sweet, a petite little package that can deliver a punch under a right set of conditions, just like she can, the same going for her ship. Physically, we know her lips have an upturn to their shape. As is true with alcohol, salt water has the same drying effect that is only made worse by licking.

One other feature that might make Inejs kisses unique is a possibility of her aquiring more jewellery during her travels. I always imagined that the Suli find piercings to be very meaningful. Perhaps she had some since a very young age, perhaps they were taken from her too during her time at the Menagerie, maybe the holes closed naturally over the long months, maybe she got more whilst working for Kaz, and although it was not put there for such a reason, a lip ring (just as an example) has quite a pleasing effect for either side.

She holds a special appreciation for people who remember their first kiss, or at least remember their first kiss with her, a courtesy she will offer in return as well. It takes special kind of brave to get close (she knows better than most) and never lets the feat of overcoming fear go unappreciated. For some reason, I can see her counting the seconds, not for any reason at all. I wouldnt say its something particulary good nor bad, but Inej doesnt give me the 'let me kiss your words away' signals no matter the situation. The phrases that would fit more would be "We will get through this", "Stay strong, for you", "Lets face it together" or "We shall see each other once more". She seems like the type to keep her affairs secret, but at the end of the day, I also dont think she would mind PDA all that much.

KUWEI YUL-BO

I know the fandom likes to joke that Kuwei is the bad kisser between the two, seeing as to how Jesper was left 'disappointed' even before knowing the truth behind who he was actually kissing... But I dont think that had to do much with the kiss itself. We were told that Jesper liked Kuweis body plenty enough, but even if it were really Wylan (both in shape and spirit), Jesper wasnt in the right space, and Kuweis silence and mannerisms didnt do much to help.

Now, this is a personal headcanon, but one of the habits I think he might pick up in the Little Palace would be scratching his nose or covering his mouth before he goes in for a kiss. Or well, I like to imagine that being his tell among all the snarky comebacks, vicious flirting and sly glances. And seeing as to how playful he is with his powers and how much he grows to use them for mischief and otherwise in KOS, I like to think that his face is always warm to the touch as Kuwei himself is constantly touching it. Random instert, this man unironically likes lemons and you will without a doubt taste quite an assortment of teas while with him.

Some people care about the emotional setting, some like keeping it casual, and some like having that perfect mix of both. Kuwei might acknowledge that in different ways and act accordingly, but I also think he might care more about the physical setting and connect good actions with places rather than specific people or mutual feelings. This man is a certified tease, unless you pull him towards you which is exactly what he wants, he is 100%, absolutely ready to keep a partner on the edge of their seat, kiss the corner of their mouth, or maybe with the lips barely touching. Instead of licking his own lips out of habit or to seduce, he would lick yours. Kuwei being a tease might also be a way for him to set up walls? In a sense that hes reminding both himself and the person hes kissing that this is just a kiss and it doesnt mean anything. And when hes kissed by someone he loves and trusts, hes downright pathetic, super soft and annoyingly sweet about it.

I dont know where else to put it so it will have to be here, but I like to think he chewed on his lips a lot as a child and whilst in captivity, leaving him with barely visible indents once he reached adulthood. When it comes to the type, Id say he could end up enjoying goodnight kisses next to the fireplace or lit by the flame in his own hand more than he would like doing anything in the early morning. Kuwei tends to get frustrated and bored easily so that might lead to certain effects as well, more specifically the speed, angle and desperation. He has hid for long enough and doesnt much care about who sees what, only whether they got a nice view from wherever they were standing at the time.

NINA ZENIK

Nina has practiced CPR from a very young age (I wouldnt call any of those a true kiss by any means, but it will make slightly more sense in just a moment), we see her perform one on Kaz in the books without hesitation, so I doubt her first 'kiss' was particularly enjoyable or wholly consentual or that she even remembers it. Perhaps from that, her kisses would grow to be particulary breathy in the future, although that doesnt mean its some kind of rule or that its not just a result of her personality being put into how she goes about it. We already know temple kisses are her thing among some other stuff, but she also doesnt seem to have a similar kind of bond with any other type that is not at neck level or above. Shes fine with them, but always seems to go to certain spots herself when she has a choice, singing and laughing through all of it. As Matthias tends to say a lot, the chase is a game to her, whether on top or beneath, she still wins.

Her skin is said to be soft, and supposedly so are her lips, plus the girl is a Heartrender and that surely results in many privileges. Surprisingly enough, I wouldnt say she is particularly experienced in the world of romance, even if her talent at sweet-talking might suggest otherwise. Perhaps shes had flings, one or two, maybe even a relationship at some point, but I dont see much more in my visions of her backstory. "Dont you want to play with me?" and "Cant you handle it?" are some of the repeating phrases in her vocabulary, but oh, it only gets worse once she feels well and truly romanced, swept off her feet as one might say, and that takes lots of effort. Its a good thing we know Nina has some high expectations, that way all of us can be her personal wingmen.

If anybody could obtain the famous movie achievement of leaving a string of saliva to connect her lips with her partners for just a few more moments, it would be Nina. Speaking of such things, she may also be the only one for who the 'let me kiss you against this wall so that they dont spot us' scenario might actually work (in theory), or at least give her enough time to incapacitate them during their confusion since she tends to be quite loud appearance wise. Likes being attended to and coddled, and no kiss has a chance without a firm grab or two. Will die if you do a tango dip with her in your arms. She is one of the biggest fans of mistletoes and finds it extremely romantic. Sometimes, when she is invited to watch a play or show, she will turn around and kiss her partner whenever the actors do. "Consider me madly in love. With the kisses, not you. ... But maybe also you if you did it again."

MATTHIAS BENEDIK HELVAR

And finally, we have our romantic-at-heart of the group, Matthias. Now, his and Ninas romance is the most obvious and out-in-the-open throughout the whole duology, and frankly he is the one I had the most trouble with writing, but the difference between seeing their first kiss from Ninas perspective and the one of Matthias is that theirs was his first kiss ever. All of his actions leading up to it, as well as those after, are a promise in some way or another, and Im not only talking about his vow to her. Nothing could have prepared me for when he lifted Nina straight off her feet and held her there as he kissed her, yet it was also the most in-character thing he ever could have done.

Matthias will absolutely, every time, start an hour long conversation on what led him to this moment, if it is the right time, the right place, the right everything... He will continue up until he himself is basically internally shouting at his own mouth to shut itself (he has very low patience despite everything mentioned above) or his partner takes the initiative themselves. The second option is prefered by both parties and a 5-star whine is the expected plus-one to excellent service. He is the type to gulp when you get too close. Will go mad if you can tell when he is holding on by a thread despite his lack of many facial expressions, especially if told something along the lines of "Just lose control, love".

He is particularly sensitive for textures. All humans are to some extent, the lips have more nerve endings in them than fingertips, but Matthias is the one who is fullfilled by it the most and frequently says stuff related to it like "Are you wearing chapstick?" or "I can feel the dip of your scar". Often acknowledges indirect kisses. Matthias has once said that kissing isnt about romance, that it should be proper and only done as a follow up to a conventional Fjerdan courtship, and while lots about him has changed during his canonical relationship with Nina, I think he might still enjoy going through at least some of these with somebody who might appreciate his efforts. Matthias is still highly religious even if he is now seeing the world from another perspective and there are some cultural things that for him go deeper than just tradition. In a very specific headcanon of mine, he has grown up fantasizing about having to lift up your chin to do it, and so now he does so even with taller partners who can reach his mouth just fine.

He would 100% take the 'Will you love me if I was a worm' jokes way too seriously. "How am I supposed to handle a worm? I could hold a butterfly, maybe kiss you if you were a wolf (but thats after a very extensive inspection of your molars)". Kisses the back of your neck after putting on a necklace. Pretends that lipstick stains dont turn him on to the highest setting.

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#six of crows #grishaverse #jesper fahey #kaz brekker #wylan van eck #inej ghafa #kuwei yul bo #nina zenik #matthias helvar #kisses #character analysis #*screams into the void*#hope you enjoy #feel free to share your thoughts #💚🖤🧡💜💛💙❤️#fandom ships #writers on tumblr #fanfiction

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