#yes I spent an unreasonable amount of time making this thank you

[tgmsunmontue]

More than movie magic... 10/?

Hangster AU. Explicit (eventually). Jake is a Hollywood actor and Bradley is a stunt coordinator. Jake's about to make a few self-discoveries. So is Bradley.

ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE

PART TEN

                Jake knows being annoyed with his mom is unreasonable, but a part of him also just can’t help it, she’s an annoying person hell-bent on making him do something he’s been putting off. God, he can never tell her that he’s had Bradley’s phone number for over a year, she’ll never let him live it down. It’s Wednesday morning now, so he has three days, assuming she doesn’t change her mind on the timeline. Now that he’s had two proper full-night’s sleep his brain feels less like it’s been put through a grinder and sat in pickle juice for days on end. He’s also feeling like he’s adjusting back to the right time after a couple of weeks skipping through time zones and continents for the promotional tour.

                He’d spent a fair amount of time last night lying in bed mulling over the fact that Bradley has been here for over two weeks, has met both his parents and cousin Freddie and Uncle Andy. Not all of the cowhands have watched him grow up, but a few did. He’s definitely met all of the current ones more than once. His other aunts and uncle all live in surrounding farms and ranches, his parents ranch the main central point geographicalluy, which is why they had based so many of the key building developments here. So the chance of Bradley having met several more members of his extended family are alarmingly high. He has no idea what he was thinking when he suggested this ranch as a potential location.

                He goes down to the kitchen, only to find it empty and he guesses the welcome wagon is well and clearly gone, now that he’s been home a whole twenty-four hours. Then his not-tired brain kicks in and he realizes that if his mom isn’t here then she’s likely in the mess hall, talking to people. He scrambles through getting dressed and then dithers over riding Blitzen or taking a car, but seeing his dad pottering around in the family stable decides it for him and by the time he steps into the stable his dad has already got Blitzen saddled up, is looking amused and no doubt his mom has talked his ear off.

                “Good luck today,” his dad says, slapping his shoulder.

                “Did mom tell you?” Jake asks, double checking the tightness and running his hands over Blitzen, stroking her nose so she can smell him and he smiles when she snorts and licks him.

                “I meant with the first day of filming. But yes, the other thing too I guess.”

                “Right. Okay. Yeah,” he says, sucks in a breath. “Thanks dad.”

                It’s still early, not even seven, although he’s got makeup at eight, so he doesn’t have a heap of time, and now that he thinks more, he’s got work, which means his time to actually talk to Bradley before his mom’s ridiculous ultimatum isn’t actually three days, but more like a few hours of spare time, which isn’t very much all, because he doubts his free time and Bradley’s free time are going to overlap. The ride between his parents house and the main buildings isn’t even ten minutes at a walk, and he does take it at a walk, despite the urge to suddenly just ride away at speed. He’s not a teenager anymore, although no doubt his mother would argue differently.

                Of course, when he leads Blitzen into the stable Bradley is there, brushing down Buttercup and talking to her under his breath and he doesn’t know whether to feel blessed or cursed. There is going to be the ghost of Bradley Bradshaw on his family ranch for years regardless of whether anything happens between them or not. He’s not prepared to see him, hasn’t thought about what he wants to say, what he can say. Fuck.

                “You’re up early. Already gone for a ride huh?” Bradley asks, gesturing toward Blitzen with his head and Jake reaches for her and begins taking off the saddle and bridle, hanging it in one of the empty stalls.

                “Just a short one. I miss it when I’m in Hollywood,” he admits.

                “You seem pretty at home here…” Jake gives him a sharp look, wonders if he knows. It’s not exactly a secret, it’s even meant to be part of the promotional PR for the film, the whole city boy returned to his roots and finds romance while saving his family ranch. “I figure you grew up near here, everyone seems to know you.”

                Jake blinks.

                Somehow, despite being here for over two weeks, Bradley hasn’t made the connection that this is Jake’s home. He feels a little inkling of amusement and wonders if this is how his mom feels when she’s telling him that he’s smart and yet somehow a dumbass at the same time.

                “What do you think of it?”

                “The ranch?”

                “Yeah,” Jake says, because that’ll do as a nice safe starting point.

                “It’s like a well-oiled machine. I can’t begin to imagine what work needs to happen, but everyone seems to know what needs to be done and just gets on and does it. I didn’t realize we’d be filming on such a large working ranch, it’s pretty amazing to see.”

                “And the land?”

                “Well, I’m a city boy, grew up thinking nothing could beat the lights of Hollywood. But got to say the night sky out here is beautiful.”

                “Hmm,” Jake hums, because he agrees, still enjoys going out camping just to get away from as much light pollution as possible and spend the time staring up at the night sky and a part of him wants to extend an invitation to Bradley to do that, wants to do that with him.

                “I’ll let you get to breakfast, I’m heading out for my own early morning ride. I’ll see you later.”

                “Yeah, sure. Enjoy your ride.”

                He watches Bradley leave, is still watching him when Bradley turns his head to look back at him and instead of looking away Jake just raises his hand in a wave of acknowledgement.

                Baby steps.

PART ELEVEN

#Hangster #Sereshaw #more than movie magic #Top Gun Maverick

[dystopicjumpsuit]

Martyrs and Kings - Chapter 6

Molecular Gastronomy

Rating: T (rating varies by chapter; mature content will be tagged)

Pairing: Kix x archivist/historian OFC

Wordcount: 3.8k

A/N: Smut is coming next chapter (and so is Maree).

Warnings: fluff; suggestive situations (non-explicit)

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Maree couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a proper date. 

Being dragged by an obnoxious coworker to a tedious gala doesn’t count, she thought.

She went straight home from work and took a long shower, and as she applied her makeup, her hands trembled. Improbably, she was nervous. It didn’t make sense; after all, she’d already spent a few hours snuggling the man. Of course, at the time, she’d been buzzing with liquid courage and adrenaline. Tonight was different. Tonight was a proper date.

Kix’s invitation had taken her by surprise. It had been a difficult day, and learning about the tragic fates of so many clone troopers had taken a visible toll on him. In honesty, it had taken a toll on her as well, even though she did not carry the same emotional burden that the former soldier did. As exhausted as she felt, though, she could not resist the opportunity to spend more time with him. 

They did not always see things the same way when they discussed the war, but when they debated, he made excellent points, and she appreciated having her viewpoints challenged. It encouraged her to keep an open mind. When they conversed about other topics, he was beyond charming. He was also one of the most distractingly attractive men she had ever met, which she admitted readily.

She tried on and discarded four separate outfits before she settled on one. Kix had commed her the Holonet page of a trendy new restaurant that had been making waves in the Republic City dining scene, and she had spent an unreasonable amount of time searching the Holonet for images of the restaurant’s patrons in her quest for the perfect ensemble. She had barely finished dressing when she heard the door chime. She applied a quick spritz of perfume and hurried to the door.

Kix waited outside, carrying a small parcel and looking impossibly handsome. He sucked in an audible breath when he saw her.

“You look stunning,” he said. “Even more than usual.”

She beamed. “And you look very handsome. Please come in; I just need to get my things together. That’s a great jacket, by the way; the color suits you.”

“Thanks.” He fiddled with the hem of the garment. “I brought you something.”

He handed her the parcel.

“That is very generous,” she said. “Shall I open it now?”

“If you want,” he said. “It’s nothing fancy, but I thought you might like it.”

She opened the box to find an ancient datapad. Her pulse leapt as she recognized the design.

“Is this Clone-Wars era?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said. “It’s a standard-issue GAR datapad. I loaded it with the Clone Regulation Manual and a few battle plans developed by clones.”

Maree was stunned. It was an incredibly meaningful gift—a piece of history that she could hold in her hands. She could read the contents as the clones would have seen them. How was it possible that he saw her with such clarity after such a brief amount of time? 

“Kix, that is the most thoughtful gift anyone has ever given me,” Maree said sincerely. “Thank you.”

“It isn’t much,” he demurred.

“I disagree,” she said. “I don’t know how to repay you.”

“It’s a gift. No need to repay.”

Kix looked a little bashful, and Maree felt a sudden and overwhelming urge to drag him into her bedroom and show him exactly how much she appreciated his thoughtfulness.

“I’ll—I’ll just put this away and get my bag, then,” she said.

Kix had brought a speeder bike to pick her up, and as she climbed on behind him, Maree sent silent thanks to her past self for deciding to wear trousers instead of one of her usual flowing gowns. Her thighs pressed against his legs, and she slipped her arms around his firm waist. Instantly, she remembered his bruised ribs and loosened her grip.

“Sorry,” she said. “Did I hurt you?”

Before she could withdraw entirely, he grasped her hands and pulled them back around himself, settling them on his lower belly.

“Not even a little bit,” he said. 

He reached his hand behind him to wrap around her calf with a light squeeze.

“Ready?” he asked.

She nodded, and he maneuvered the speeder into traffic, whizzing through the skylane with effortless precision. She prayed to the Force and any gods who might be listening that her hairstyle would hold. His body was warm and reassuringly solid in front of her, and she leaned closer, resting her cheek on his back. He smelled delicious, and she took a moment to simply enjoy his nearness.

They reached the restaurant all too soon. Kix helped Maree dismount the speeder bike with strong, confident hands, and then laid one gently on her lower back as he guided her into the restaurant. By the gods, he was smooth.

The restaurant was packed, and a number of small groups milled about outside. The crowd was mostly young people on the bleeding edge of fashion, and Maree felt a brief stab of self-consciousness. She stole a glance at Kix. He blended in easily with the beautiful people, and Maree couldn’t help feeling a touch matronly and overdressed by comparison.

Damn, I guess I’m more out of touch than I thought. Just put me in the Archive with the rest of the relics.

Kix led her through the crowd, heedless of the appreciative glances he attracted. He smiled down at her as though she were the only woman in the galaxy, and she felt her doubts melt away under its warmth. They drew to a halt in front of the host station.

“Do you have a reservation?” the droid host asked without preamble.

“Yes. Two for Kix,” he said.

“Follow me, please.”

Inside, the restaurant was dark and overly loud, but the droid led them to a cozy little alcove at the back of the building where the pumping music and the bustle of the restaurant was slightly muffled. Thankfully, it seemed they wouldn’t need to shout to hear each other, but it wasn’t exactly conducive to a relaxed conversation, either.

“I’ve heard a lot about this place, but it’s been booked solid since it opened,” Maree said. “How did you manage to get a reservation?”

Kix shrugged. “I made a call.”

Who exactly is this man? she wondered. Someone for whom last-minute gala tickets and impossible reservations seemed to be everyday occurrences, so mundane as to not even be worth commenting on. Maree wasn’t certain she was entirely comfortable with it, to be honest. She earned a generous salary and enjoyed a comfortable life, but Kix was on an entirely different level. In her experience, the sorts of people who were on that level were generally involved in some of the shadiest enterprises in the galaxy. In fact, Maree was fairly certain she had spotted a notorious weapons dealer and war profiteer as they walked through the restaurant, and she sincerely hoped Kix was not involved with any similar ventures.

They ordered cocktails and settled into a slightly awkward silence as they waited for the first course of the tasting menu to arrive.

“So,” Kix said at last, drawing out the syllable ever so slightly. “Are you from Hosnian Prime originally?”

“No, I’m not really from anywhere originally,” Maree said, grateful that he’d broken the ice.

“How do you mean?” he asked.

“I bounced around a lot when I was a kid. My mothers were fighters in the Rebellion, and then after the battle of Jakku, one of them joined the Rangers of the New Republic, so we went wherever her work took us, mostly around the Outer Rim territories.”

“That must have been hard for a little kid,” Kix said.

“I didn’t mind it,” she said. “I always loved exploring new planets. And thanks to Baba’s service, I had a full scholarship at the University of Coruscant, so I think it was a good experience overall, even if it wasn’t the most stable upbringing. What about you?”

���Me?” he sounded taken aback.

“Yeah, where are you from?”

“Uh, I guess I bounced around a lot, too. I never had any parents, but I had my brothers.” His expression clouded. “They’re gone now, though.”

Open mouth, insert foot. Way to ruin the mood, Finnall.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I seem to keep stirring up painful memories for you.”

“It’s all right,” he said. “You couldn’t have known. But I’d rather talk about you. What made you decide to study military history?”

“My other mother, Eema,” she said. “While Baba was out Rangering, Eema would take me around to explore the planets where we were stationed. She would take me to all the historically significant locations in each system, and a lot of them happened to be the sites of old battles. I had so many questions about why they were fighting and how the battle unfolded. Whenever she didn’t have the answers, she would set me up on the Holonet to research it for myself. Sometimes, systems would get dragged into a conflict through no choice of their own. Like Saleucami in the Clone Wars. I actually wrote my doctoral thesis on the first battle of Saleucami.”

“I was there,” Kix said.

“Saleucami?” she asked.

“Uh, yes,” he said. “Recently. On business.”

He looked uncomfortable, and once again, Maree wondered exactly what kind of “asset retrieval” he was involved in.

“I’m glad to see the population is recovering from the Imperial occupation,” she said. “That system has seen enough conflict to last several lifetimes.”

“Haven’t they all?” he asked.

“Good point,” she acknowledged.

“Why the first battle of Saleucami?” he asked. “I thought it was a fairly minor skirmish.”

“It’s a classic case of bad luck,” she said. “The planet itself should never have seen any action. The battle took place in space, and there was nothing of interest to either the Republic or the CIS on the planet. But when Grievous retreated to the planet’s surface, he brought the fighting with him. And that led to a chain reaction of events that culminated in the Siege of Saleucami, which turned into one of the longest campaigns of the entire war. Even after the war, the occupation of the planet continued under the Empire.”

Kix shook his head thoughtfully. “So a whole planet suffered for years because of a conflict that they never chose to be a part of.”

“It happens in war,” she said. “It’s not so different from the clones. They never had a choice, either.”

“At least the clones could defend themselves,” Kix said. “The people of Saleucami never stood a chance.”

“It’s more of a parallel than an analogy,” she admitted.

Just then, a service droid approached the table with the first course, to Maree’s relief. She hadn’t planned on discussing death and destruction all night, and the interruption provided a perfect opportunity to steer the conversation in a less martial direction. The droid set the plates in front of them. It was a single bite-sized gelatinous bubble filled with smoke and served on an ornate spoon. Tasty, but insubstantial, and Maree realized with foreboding that she should have eaten a snack before Kix picked her up.

Kix looked comically disappointed.

“Are all the courses going to be this tiny?” he asked.

Maree laughed. “Hopefully not! At least there are lots of courses.”

“So,” she asked, hoping to distract herself from her gnawing hunger. “Are you enjoying your visit to Hosnian Prime?”

Kix was starting to regret his choice of restaurant. He hadn’t done any research before he called Reveth and asked her to slice the reservation system of the best restaurant in Republic City and get him a table for two.

“Does this mean you’re no longer available for casual hookups?” she had teased him. “It means I’m hungry,” he’d said. “Got anywhere in mind?” “Somewhere you’d take someone you want to impress,” he had said. “I saw a Holonet article about a place called Trilogy that’s supposed to be the hottest new restaurant in the Core,” she’d suggested. “Every rich scughole in the capital is on their client list.” “Sounds perfect.” “I’m going to have to steal somebody else’s reservation, though,” she had warned. “Well, we are pirates after all,” he had replied.

The restaurant was fancier than anything he’d ever seen, and by the time they were on the sixth course of the evening, he was pretty sure that he’d had only gotten three bites of food total. For the love of the Force, one “course” had just been some fragrant air trapped under a glass dome. The server droid had removed the cloche with a flourish and encouraged them to “breathe in the essence of meiloorun.” He was beginning to suspect that the entire operation was either a scam or an elaborate prank. Maree seemed to be entirely at her ease, and he wondered if this was normal for her.

When he had picked her up from her home, he’d been stunned by how classically glamorous and elegant she had looked. She reminded him of some of the senators he’d seen during the wars, except her clothing didn’t seem quite as stiff and formal as theirs had been. She wore it with an ease that made him think she must have lived her entire life in privilege, so he was surprised to learn about her humble childhood. He wondered if he would ever be able to learn that kind of confidence. 

Maybe, if I don’t starve to death before dinner is over, he thought grumpily. Who knew “molecular gastronomy” referred to the portion sizes?

Perhaps the entire night had been a bad idea. He’d slipped and nearly revealed that he’d been at the battle of Saleucami, but he was fairly sure she’d believed his cover story about visiting on business. It occurred to him that he should just tell her the truth about his identity. She had given him no reason to distrust her, and yet he hesitated. If she knew he was a clone, would she change her opinion of him? It was a risk he was not willing to take—not yet. The conversation had been going well, he thought. Maree became animated and eloquent when she discussed her research, and Kix enjoyed hearing her perspective. But then the service droid had arrived with that pitiful excuse for a first course, and he had started to realize that this restaurant was not his kind of place, to put it mildly.

Even worse, the conversation had become trivial and stilted. As much as he appreciated Maree’s passionate intensity when she talked about the Clone Wars, he had privately hoped they could reestablish their effortless camaraderie from the Botanical Archive. Unfortunately, the way the evening was headed, things were getting more awkward instead of less.

They made uncomfortable small talk about the weather (unseasonably cold), how he liked Hosnian Prime (it was fine), and what kind of music he liked (oldies, apparently). As the so-called meal dragged on, he watched her retreat behind the mask of bland cordiality that she’d worn while she spoke to the library donors at the gala. 

This was a disaster. He was losing her before he’d ever gotten a chance to know her better, and he worried that if he couldn’t salvage the evening, the ensuing tension might affect their working relationship. He shuddered to imagine spending days in the archive on Coruscant discussing the weather. With Coruscant’s planetary climate control system, it would be an even drier conversation. Perhaps the date had been a bad idea, after all.

The eighth course arrived, and Maree eyed it with an unreadable expression. After the droid departed the table yet again, Maree dropped her fork abruptly.

“This is weird,” she said.

“What is weird?” Kix asked.

“This—all of this. I can barely hear you over the music, and if I don’t get some real food soon, I am going to fucking stab somebody. I’m sorry; I hate to complain—”

“No, I agree, it’s the worst,” Kix interrupted. “I thought you were enjoying it.”

“Not so much,” she said. “Do you want to get out of here?”

“Gods, yes,” he exclaimed. “Do you know of any decent fast food nearby?”

“Yes, and I know the perfect place to eat it,” she said. “Let’s go.”

He dropped enough credits on the table to cover their bill, and then he guided her quickly out of the restaurant and back to his speeder bike.

Within fifteen minutes, they were walking toward the entrance of the hanging gardens as Maree took an enormous bite of a bantha burger.

“Oh, thank gods,” she mumbled around the food. “I thought I was going to die.”

“I can’t believe people pay actual credits for that,” Kix agreed as he popped a fritzle fry into his mouth. “How is that considered the best restaurant in the city?”

“I’m guessing nobody wants to go against the hype for fear of seeming like they aren’t sophisticated enough to appreciate true artistry,” she said.

“Like ‘The Chancellor’s New Clothes,’” Kix said.

“Exactly! Luckily, there are plenty of fine dining restaurants in Republic City that don’t leave their customers hungrier at the end of the meal than when they arrived. Maybe we should try one of those next time,” she said.

Kix nearly stumbled over his own feet. Next time! She was still willing for there to be a next time!

“You’re the local; maybe you should pick the next one,” he said, playing it cool. “Do you go to restaurants like that often?”

“Honestly? No. Left to my own devices, I’ll usually go to some hole-in-the-wall place in Rylothtown or Little Felucia. If we stick to my favorites, we’re going to end up eating takeout on my sofa and drinking wine straight from the bottle,” she laughed.

“Sounds perfect,” he said sincerely.

She bumped his shoulder companionably, and he held out the bag of fritzle fries in a silent offer. She snagged a fry and munched on it with a happy sigh.

“How’s your burger?” she asked.

“I’ll be honest: I was so hungry that an expired ration bar would have tasted delicious,” Kix admitted. 

“Same,” Maree said. “The Archive interns claim that I get uncharacteristically aggressive when I’m hungry. One of them once told me that she always brings a snack with her when she visits my office, just in case she needs to throw it to distract me while she retreats to a safe distance.”

“I would never have guessed,” Kix said. “You seemed so calm right up until the moment when you threatened to stab me.”

“I wasn’t going to stab you specifically,” Maree objected. “Just someone. Anyone who was convenient.”

“And I just happened to be closest to you,” Kix laughed.

“Luckily, you distracted me with a bantha burger,” Maree said.

They meandered down the winding paths, finishing their meal and chatting amiably. It was too early in the season for many of the plants to bloom, and so they encountered few other beings as they strolled through the gardens. As the last hints of daylight had faded, the landscape lights came on automatically, bathing the garden in a soft, moody luminescence. 

“This is the second time I’ve brought you to a garden in the middle of the night,” Maree said. “I’ll have to think of something more creative in the future."

“I have to admit, I’m a little disappointed that I won’t need to carry you home this time,” Kix teased.

“Oh?” she asked in a deceptively innocent tone. “Were you hoping to give me a ride?”

Kix chuckled. “Any time you want, doc.”

"It’s a pity the garden isn’t really blooming yet. In a few more weeks, it will be glorious.”

“I don’t think I can stay that long,” he said. “I need to get back to work. But maybe someday you can show it to me.”

“I would love to,” she said. “Will you be leaving directly from Coruscant?”

“That depends on whether we find what I need in the archive,” he said.

"I doubt it will take more than a day or two to find the records," she said. “Hopefully we’ll find the answers you’re looking for. If we can’t find records there, I am uncertain that we would be able to find them at all. But either way, our research should be concluded within a few days.”

Kix felt an unexpected pang of disappointment at the thought. As desperate as he was to find the answers he needed, he was not ready for his time with her to come to an end. Talking with Maree felt natural and easy in a way that Kix had not experienced since he’d been pulled out of cryostasis. 

He’d been displaced from his own time, adrift in a galaxy that had forgotten him. He often felt so detached, so alone even when he was surrounded by the Meson Martinet crew, that he thought it wasn’t worth the effort to try to connect with anyone. With Maree, he felt like fate or the Force had given him a tether to something solid and dependable. Someone who cared about him and his brothers and didn’t just consider the clones to be ancient history. Someone who would understand.

He stole a glance at her. She was so lovely. In the soft light, the curves of her face were achingly perfect–almost too perfect to touch. She looked like a work of art, and he was torn between wanting to simply stare and admire her beauty and a perverse desire to know what she would look like with her hair loose and wild and her lipstick smudged from passion.

Impulsively, he brushed his fingers down the line of her cheek. Her eyes fluttered closed as she leaned into the contact. He traced her lips, feeling the warmth of her exhale, and his free hand stole up to cradle her head. He slid his fingers into her hair, feeling for the pins that held it in place, and one by one, he removed them, watching as the soft strands tumbled down her back and framed her face. He stroked down the length of her hair, feeling the softness as it slipped through his fingers. Her hands drifted up and settled on his chest, trailing toward his shoulders. She had opened her eyes and was watching him, her head tilted up to meet his gaze, pupils dilated wide. They stood so close to each other that he could feel her shallow breath on his skin, close enough that he could smell the warm, sweet perfume he recognized from the library garden.

For a moment, they simply stood unmoving, sharing breaths, locked in each other’s orbit. And then Maree slid one of her hands up Kix’s chest to wrap around the back of his neck and tug him softly toward her. He dropped his forehead to rest on hers. Everything around him seemed to crystallize, and he knew he would remember this moment for the rest of his life.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” he whispered.

---

Chapter 7

Tagging: @blueink-bluesoul @secondaryrealm @spicy-clones @wings-and-beskar @523rdrebel @goblininawig @merkitty49 @anxiouspineapple99

#clone medic kix #sw fanfic #sw tcw fanfic #tcw kix #tcw fanfic #star wars tcw #dystopicjumpsuit writes #martyrs and kings

[subiysu-chan]

Charles never became Jean-Baptiste 2.0

It’s more complicated

Yes...You read it correctly. Charles didn't instantly became like his father after having sex, and in fact, he never did, and no, this isn't a product of classic toxic masculinity.

So...Character backstory, from what we see

We know that he grew up to be a very empathetic child. He also spent an unspecified amount of time (probably a few months or even years) faking his identity in a boarding school out of all places. Plus, given the educational methods of the time, he would have been highly encourage to re-sensitize himself to shame and basically...embrace his social needs or collect a beating. At least it's what I could get from sources on education from this time period. Also, showing desire for social integration is a basic human instinct, and so, I don't think he'll even need the threat of corporal punishment to motivate him into it, but would also contribute to further weaken his sense of self by allowing him to forget his identity. https://www.google.ca/books/edition/L_universit%C3%A9_de_Paris_et_les_j%C3%A9suites/5ADQAAAAMAAJ?hl=fr&gbpv=1&dq=ch%C3%A2timents+corporels+chez+les+j%C3%A9suites&pg=PA158&printsec=frontcover

After his expulsion, Charles-Henri was given a privet tutor: Grisel, who became one of the closest person of his life...And he lost him at age 14.

So, the Charles we meet in volume one already has lived through a lot of grief, and has a sense of self already very fragile, from the constantly switching system of values he would have to adapt to for anything from 2 to 4 years, at the formative age of early adolescence.

Now, let us take a look at Innocent, volume per volume 1-2, of how Charles felt into this.

Vol 1 of Innocent:

Oh, here we have in the first pages father and son walking to get a letter of recommendation. On the way, the people walk away from them, pass waters to "purify" the street after their passage. The reason for this "pleasant little walk" is so Jean-Baptiste could ask for a letter of recommendation for a school in Toulouse.

(Side note, this is either a mistake, as in Sakamoto-sensei not knowing the situation of executioners was different in Southern France than in Northern France, or it's absolutely brilliant characterization if intentional, but the choice of city seems to be a mistake, because non of the characters seem particularly nervous at the idea of going there)

Anyway, so the Prévot des Marchands gives said recommandation letter to Jean-Baptiste, but instead of giving it to him in hand, he drops it on the floor for him to pick it up. Jean-Baptiste absolutely does not respond to this attempt at humiliation, and scolds his son for not thanking the Prévot properly, and not keeping his posture strait.

This could hint at a father-son conflict, and Jean-Baptiste, given the context mentioned above, has reasons to believe Charles is putting up a manipulative act, if he knows about the Jesuit education methods, but he would surely know how "norm" of the time felt entitled to treat people who where considered shameless. Since, at this point, Jean-Baptiste still doesn't plan to train Charles as an executioner, it is probably the main thing creating tension. It's probably a situation of "One, no, I will not go softer on you just because you act all sheepish, two bowing your head in humiliation is beneath you, man up and three, I am not so unreasonable as to whip you for not bowing your head and blushing on command."

But, from Charles' perspective, he is humiliated and just, emotionally exhausted. Plus, from his point of view, his father's scolding doesn't make logical sense, since why is he reproaching him for acting like a socially integrated person if he's about to send him to an establishment for socially integrated people.

Once they are at home, the rest of the family joins in on the entire thing, and Anne-Marthe and Jeanne show themselves to be a lot more coherent and reasonable, not necessarily ethical, but sensible, and reason that since Charles doesn't want to go to school anymore, because of the non-stop heartbreak it lead, he should contribute to the family by becoming his father's apprentice. Charles, who's strongly opposed to killing people, throws a temper tantrum at this (and is probably already frustrated by the humiliation of being shooed out of the streets and his father's contradictory directives) and burns the table cloth.

As a response of his refusal and temper tantrum, Jean-Baptiste tortures his son. However, the frame leading up to the torture scene is quite...stricking. Jean-Baptiste strait up commands Charles to go into the room. There's no lying, there's no tricking, no asking, it's sheer intimidating posture. Oddly enough, even if his gesture is commanding, it is not necessarily rude, he uses his hand to indicate where he expects Charles to go instead of his finger, almost as if inviting him to the torture chamber. This is a behavior that Charles will copy, refraining from using "rude" gestures and languages, even when torturing someone. This is a limit that both Jean-Baptiste and Charles-Henri respect, and it's a rather weird one if you think about it.

Also, in the lion episode thing, we are given more hints, that even if Charles wasn't rebelling against his father and did his best to obey him...It just won't work. Jean-Baptiste, on top of contradictory orders whenever something doesn't concern the function of executioner, is either unable or unwilling to keep tabs of his eldest son's skill set, which if one looks at it logically, talking himself out of beheading the lion was probably the smartest move on Charles' part.

Vol 2 of Innocent:

So, the volume 2 starts with the continuation of Jean de Chartois' clumsy decapitation. Now, we get a flashback here of Charles getting punished for saving the frogs from dissection. Little!Charles actually squirms at the punishment, trying to get away, showing he probably still had functioning instincts. So again, we have someone who once had normal fight or flight instincts and some sense of self, but it was slowly but surely stripped away from him.

After snapping and completely butchering his friend, Charles snaps back into reality. Here, we see that he's still somewhat self-righteous, and that his complete denying of self is something he only does in front of family members. He was able at 14 to convincingly prove many aristocrats, many of them seem older than his father, and pull it off quite well. He screams his innocence now.

Now, when the crowd actually throws stones, he freezes. This probably isn't the first time he is confronted to an agressive crowd wanting to harm him, so this freezing seem to be caused by the fact he was in a frantic state of mind, and just barely starting to notice his surroundings again. When a couple of people had layed him down for a beating, he's so guilt-ridden and confused that he doesn't even try to defend himself before his father steps in, takes responsibility for the happenings, and Anne-Marthe makes sure this botched execution isn't recorded by bribing someone.

When Jean-Baptiste orders around the clean-up proceedings, Charles-Henri tries meekly to grab his attention. He's nervous, but he isn't as scared of him as expected. Also, here is another proof that Charles-Henri is already brainwashed and crazy. Any normal person would be terrified of a person who not so long ago nearly tortured them to death, and the reaction of most people wouldn't be to timidly ask for their attention. And this isn't even a gesture of defiance.

Now, at this point of the plot, Charles is both suicidal, self-loathing, and already long-brainwashed.

In the dissection scene, Jean-Baptiste, after his stroke, has temporarily regained his strength, at least partially, and now officiated at two executions (at least it's heavily implied), and asks Charles to restart his training. Here, in this phase, Jean-Baptiste is present.

Here, Anne-Marthe's comment about Charles-Henri reaction to the smell seems to imply this isn't the first time. Here, Jean-Baptiste doesn't really react. His frustrated, but keeps it to himself. This, and the introduction scene, does seem to imply Jean-Baptiste isn't that punitive, he's still strict, but most of the time, when his children behave in a way that displeases him, he verbally tells them off, or lets it slide. The boot scene, even if from Charles' reaction, it wasn't the first time it was used, is only done for "big stuff". Like burning the table cloth and refusing to take the family business.

Volume 2 really hammers home how brainwashed out of his instincts Charles is at 14, since he decides it's a good idea to tell his father, who tortured him to get him to take on the family mantle, that he would like to become a monk. Also, his turn over into accepting to become an executioner after wards, is that as much as Charles-Henri resents his father, he still cares for his approval, and that his desire for acceptance is still firmly rooted into him. Because, if he didn't care, Charles could easily say: "well, if you think I'm such a failure, does this mean I am free to leave ?"

But he doesn't. Charles-Henri seem to be unwilling to give up his social self in any way, shape or form. He keeps his empathy, no matter how much mental anguish it causes him, and despite it being easier and less painful to harden himself into denying his needs for love and acceptance, he still doesn't do it, even though it's painful. Also, this doesn't show weakness to me, but a strong will. He was able, at a very young age to lie about his identity in a boarding school of all places, was able to stay academically curious and somewhat successful, was willing to undergo torture to not become executioner (he eventually gave in, but he still was willing to under up to seven wedges for a duration of what is implied to be at least 6 hours) and clung to his empathy and desire for love and acceptance despite all the grief, self-loathing, guilt humiliation and anguish it causes him. He's brainwashed and weathered, but he still clings on.

So, I will skip the later part of volume 2, because he mostly takes in confidence, and we have the scene I already discussed previously. Also, here, we learn that Charles is more than capable of self-reflection, and changing his perspective.

Vol 3 of Innocent

Here, Charles finally shows a level of courage we didn't see in him previously. He talks back to his grandmother, despite fearing her. This is also the volume in which Jean-Baptiste's true self shows, or at least part of it. Despite his weakened state, he chooses to try what he can to save a child he didn't agree to have in his house, and allows him to stay until his wound heal (which would have coincided with learning that Damien stabbed the king, given the extent of the damage, and bone scarifies rather slowly. Also, his torturer is Subyss, the least discreet person in the world) Which isn't that extraordinary, but it shows Jean-Baptiste is capable of basic human decency. Also, Jean-Baptiste strait up snaps and regresses to a child-like state upon learning about Damien's écartèlement. In truth, Jean-Baptiste and Charles-Henri are both horrified by torture and violence.

Also, we learn here exactly why the family was able to maintain their position despite their rivals: one, Anne-Marthe is very good at getting rid of them, and two, the current geographically closest potential rival is a complete idiot. But this isn't about how dumb Subyss is. So, in that scene with Subyss, he stays quite physically close to that man, who just threatened to pierce his vocal cord.

After this show of horror, Charles, once out of the torture chamber, can barely walk he's so shocked. His uncle warned him...However, it does show that Charles-Henri has a strict sense of honor, willing to visit a condemned at the expense of his own sanity.

There is also the massage scene, in which Charles' mental damage and brainwashing is further empathized. But here is some good meta on it: https://www.tumblr.com/feuerblut-a/189879782995/a-little-metarant-about-charles-ahead-related-to

At this point in the story, Charles-Henri is mentally strong enough not only to stand up for himself, but also complete the execution Nicolas-Gabriel was unable to.

Vol 4 of Innocent

Not too much change from volume 3 in terms of Charles' mental state, exept for one thing: Charles is deeply traumatized by the event. Despite this, he's still able to cling to something positive: the crowd didn't resort to cannibalism unlike the last time, and this is proof that the world is improving.

Also, so far, the similarities between Jean-Baptiste's and Charles-Henry's personalities were quite positive. Both are hopeful (Jean-Baptiste deciding to carry on the amputation, and Charles-Henri seeing an improvement in society despite the horror of the quartering), capable of empathy and somewhat sensitive.

Also, Charles does show up the courage to finally stand up to Anne-Marthe to defend his younger sister. Which, frankly, is admirable.

However, he is still caught in grief, trauma and his ability to trust had just been used in a horrific way.

Vol 5 of Innocent

Here, we fully see the mental scars left by the écartèlement in which he participated. The trauma seemed to have negatively impacted some of his cognitive skills, namely critical thinking.

He entrusts Griffith to be alone with Marie-Josèphe, and the reason he trusts this man is because his father spoke highly of him. Which wouldn't be a problem, if, and it's a big if, his father was a somewhat normal person. But this is the man who trusts Anne-Marthe as a middle-aged man. I know this woman is his mother, but that kind of naïve trust in a person who he knows is an intrigant, is somewhat misplaced, to say the least. Also, this was the man willing to send you in a city where you'll be lynched for your supposed education (unless it's a writing mistake), Charles ! So, no, this is not a good idea.

Now, to further point out how much his cognitive abilities had been lowered, there's this scene of critical thinking and self-esteem is so crushed, that when he sees Jeanne Bécu, naked in front of him, he thinks she's a vision Père Grisel is sending him from Heaven. Any reasonable person would have asked her to leave, but not Charles.

So, in this sex scene, we have a very traumatized, brainwashed young man, who's mind has already started to deteriorate, who experiences an extreme of acceptance and pleasure all at once. For the first time in a long while, he's not only accepted but desired, and on top of that, it's his first time having sex. So of course, it's going to alter his mind.

For Charles, the overwhelming pleasure is double. Both the fantasy of having a woman desire him so much she strait up comes to his house and begs him to f-ck her, he who is so used to rejection, and with that comes the physiological pleasure associated with the sexual act. On top of that, learning that his father had basic human empathy (he treats it as new information, but, somehow, given the events of vol. 3 of which he partook, he probably might have forgotten some information), which also deeply changes his worldview. He learns that he can be masculine and stoic, and still keep his soft heart.

Vol. 6 of Innocent

So, here, Charles is no longer the meek lamb. After tasting the highest pleasure he ever experienced or could conceive of, he wants more, and so he takes it. Seven times in a row. One can be surprised at his sexual stamina, but he is experiencing something new, pleasant and addictive. The last volume ended with his thoughts put that he now is addicted to this pleasure.

To be accepted and desired in this way gave Charles a new confidence, and he now pursues in mind a new goal: become a competent executioner so that his requests can be taken seriously. Which is quite the sensible idea, especially since now, his chastity vow plan has failed.

However, when Marie enters, he tells her off for letting her resentment take over, which to be fair is a good point, and that she is too young to be an executioner, which again, good point, but the arguments he uses are those of his father. He now tries to imitate this man's verbal mannerisms in order to seem more "strong" and "manly". Charles talks about the family honor and how it's important to preserve it, something his younger self didn't care about at all. Marie-Josèphe tells him off, saying she sold her body to get it, and thus isn't willing to step back, but Charles has enough firmness to say he didn't ask for her opinion.

I would say here, that this is actually quite consistant with the Charles we met in Innocent vol. 2, where he is shown to be able to put himself into question and change his views. He seems to realize that maybe allowing his 11 year old little sister to be an executioner isn't a wise idea.

Executioners of the XVIII century had a series of moral requirements to meet, and Marie does not fit any of them. She's rude, impulsive and rebellious, which are actually not personality trait you would want to see in an executioner. Her sadism also make her a wild card, and quite unpredictable, and more willing to deliberately butcher executions on purpose. The executioner was a civil servant, in a sense.

However, Marie-Josèphe is able to notice, because it's about as subtle as a multicolored hammer doing poll-dancing with a chicken, that Charles-Henri does try to imitate his father's mannerism, and accuses him of becoming like him.

Those are the words that make Charles quite violantly angry, and he slaps her. A fist-fight ensues, and at the end of it...we see how ruthless this new Charles-Henri has become. He orders André to lock Marie in the torture chamber until the proceedings are done.

So, Marie gets out thanks to André, they both make it to the condemned cell, and Charles tries to convince La Tour to kneel, and that he recognizes that the execution is meant to fail. He had learned from previous experiences, how to talk himself out of impossible situation can be a reasonable course of actions, and the knows that the execution was meant to fail.

He tries to convince Marie of this, and that she shouldn't play into it. He under estimates her, but frankly, his expectations are reasonable. He knows that Marie is skilled, but she's only eleven, and shows genuine concerned for her safety.

When he learns she manipulated La Tour to make sure the execution goes smoothly, he seems revolted at the idea, which again, seem to show he still has his former values.

Later on, we discover a Charles enjoying hunting, he who previous was squeamish at the idea of eating meat. So, again, some change.

We see Charles taking an interest in women...And we here get a huge difference between Jean-Baptiste and transformed Charles-Henri. Jean-Baptiste is NOT a womanizer, and yes, the man does seem to have a high libido, he's not interested multiple relationships. What we know historically of Madeleine Tronson was that she was the daughter of Jean-Baptiste's tutor (curator, in the legal sense, not like a private tutor), whom he probably met as a young boy. Also, in the manga at least, his relationship with Jeanne Berger seems to imply an arranged marriage.

Charles meets Marie-Anne Jugier as an adult, and she isn't a woman of his cast. Shinichi Sakamoto's Charles-Henri Sanson is just as averse to endogamy as his historical self.

#innocent manga #meta #I need to stop doing those #Charles-Henri Sanson #Shinichi Sakamoto #innocent manga meta

[vinbee631]

13 - The Bar Isn’t the Best Place to Find Advice, Thank God We’re In the Hallway

Prodigal Sons and Daughters Alike

If Janus had known private high school was going to be filled with as much teenage angst as regular public high school, he never would have bothered with the hours of work it took to apply.

Little Janus angst for the soul, title loosely based on Shape of You by Ed Sheeran because I Could Not Think of Anything Else and it's funny.

god, i love their dynamic so much.

If Janus had known private high school was going to be filled with as much teenage angst as regular public high school, he never would have bothered with the hours of work it took to apply.

That was only partially untrue, unfortunately.

It did not help that he’d chosen a track that was full of the most dramatic individuals on the planet: actors and dancers. 

Yes, he was also very dramatic, what of it? It takes one to know one, after all. He reserved the right to be critical of all his whiny classmates, when he too, spent an unreasonable amount of time complaining and being a pain in the ass. 

It would seem, with every bone in his body being the dramatic and sarcastic ones, that he would fit in well with his department.

The fact that his only ‘friends,’ if you could even call them that, were exclusively his dormmates, only one of which was even close to being in his track, did not back up that statement whatsoever.

Despite being much more outspoken than a certain recluse roommate the twins had initially taken to creating conspiracy theories about and inevitably started scheming about instead of actually talking to him, Janus did not succeed in the department of making and keeping friends, he never had.

So, when faced with the sudden reminder one of his classes involved a semester-long group project without assigned partners, he realized he had just been royally fucked, pardon the french.

It was enough to forget about the fact he was supposed to be planning his big get-to-know-Virgil thing the others had been chatting about excitedly for a few days now.

Logan’s success on the matter didn’t help, either. There was now an expectation that Janus had to come up with something convincing enough that Virgil would actually agree to it, he didn’t have the crutch of someone else’s failure. No, that would be too easy.

With all that in mind, it was a bit easier to explain how he found himself in his next, and most current, predicament. One that he literally ran into as he was distractedly making his way to his next class.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry. One would think that brainstorming and walking would be easy to multitask, but I’ve never been the type to effectively do two things at once.” Janus crouched down to help the poor sap he’d rammed into gather the papers they’d been carrying.

“Whatever, it’s fine,” the person replied, and Janus glanced up to find he recognized that prickly voice. He smirked up at Virgil, handing him the rest of his scattered papers.

“Well, if my apology isn’t good enough, I’m not quite sure what else you expect from me. As great as turning back time would be, that is unfortunately not in my skillset at this time.” A filter in this situation would have been immensely helpful, but he was pleasantly surprised at Virgil’s snort in response.

“Really? It’s not that hard to learn. I took an online course over the summer, you should consider it,” Virgil snarked back, surprisnging himself and Janus.

The latter scoffed. “Not all of us have ample free time to evolve beyond human nature, although if you have any better, less time-consuming options, I hope you will keep me in the loop, yes?”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “If you don’t have the patience for the zoom meetings, that’s on you. But sure, if I hear anything, you’ll be the first to know, I guess.”

“Good, it’s the least you could do after rubbing your privilege in my face. Although… here’s an idea, perhaps we would both benefit from you teaching me instead? I wouldn’t get to complain about how hard to access the classes are, and you wouldn’t get to complain about my- laziness, or whatever,” Janus proposed sarcastically, inspecting his fingernails casually.

“Ah, I don’t know enough to be a teacher. I barely know enough to use it, to be honest, hence why I didn’t reverse time to stop this whole thing from happening. It’s finicky, takes years to perfect, and even longer to master it enough to teach it to someone.”

“Well, you see my predicament then! I’m not going to start learning something that takes years if I don’t have the time or motivation to do so. So I’ll appreciate you refraining from any judgment,” Janus continued, surprised Virgil was putting up with him for this long, but he was not about to point that out.

Virgil raised his hands in mock surrender. “I concede to you point. Although, I never said you had to master it, just that I was shocked you wouldn’t make an effort to try it out… Anyway, I gotta…uh, get to class now… Good talk.”

Janus nodded, a bit too scatterbrained to wave goodbye. In hindsight, that was his chance to keep Virgil’s attention, to offer to walk to class with him or carry the papers he had previously scattered, or- something. 

Virgil surprised him once again by taking that step for him.

“Is… is everything- good?” When Janus glanced back up, he realized Virgil hadn’t, in fact, left for his class. He even had the decency to look a bit concerned for him, how sweet.

“Uh… yes, never been better,” Janus stammered to reply when he realized he’d taken a bit too long in his shock to respond, “why do you ask? I thought you had a very important class to be getting to.” Virgil shrugged. “You just… looked like something was- up, I guess.” He fidgeted with the straps of his bag as he spoke, obviously just as uncomfortable as Janus was with the question. 

“Do you actually care?” Janus asked honestly. “I mean, I’m sure you have better ways to spend your time than listening to me complain about something I will likely have resolved in a week or two.”

Virgil simply shrugged again, going as far as to step to the side so they weren’t in the way of anyone walking past. “I have time, actually. And, I don’t know that I’ve seen you express any emotion other than smug, so you have me intrigued.”

Janus laughed. “I suppose that’s not entirely innacurate. I… suppose it sounds a bit silly out loud, but, well… I have yet to find a partner for a semester-long group project, and everyone in that class has already found someone to work with. And, as fun as it would be to interrupt someone’s hard work, joining an already established group would completely throw off all of my ideas.”

Virgil nodded in sympathy, pursing his lips. “I mean… does it have to be someone in that class? Like, I’m sure whoever the teacher is has other periods. Maybe, someone else in another class is looking for a partner?”

“It seems we do think alike,” Janus smiled grimly. “I already tried that, asked the teacher and everything. He said I have to join a group within my class, it would be too complicated to not be able to utilize our class time to finish the project.”

“Huh, I guess that’s reasonable. Sucks for you though…” Among all the outcomes Janus had complied in his head of this particular conversation, Virgil making an honest effort to help him had not been one. But hey, help was help, he wasn’t going to refuse it just because he was surprised it was happening.

“What… what kind of project is it? Is it something you can just- word-gymnastics your way into doing by yourself?” Another idea Janus had considered, and he shook his head ruefully.

“Um, well, I have the syllabus and assignment sheet if you even care that much. It’s a production class, more theater tech than acting, but we have to script and perform something, and we can either record it ourselves or perform it live. Has to be a collaboration, unfortunately, unless I want to fail the class.”

“Hm, you really are stuck,” Virgil muttered, reading over the papers Janus had handed to him. Now that he was this invested, he supposed there was no turning back. Honestly, he did kind of feel bad. He wouldn’t have said anything in the first place, but Janus had suddenly looked so- stressed. He wasn’t sure why that had tugged at his gut in the uncomfortable way it did, but now he was too far in to question that feeling.

“Oh, wait, maybe… I know your teacher said it had to be someone in that same period, but what if it’s someone not in the same class? You could… uh, write the whole thing yourself or whatever, then find someone you’re friends with to help put it on? Just like, anyone, but it might help if they’re at least in the same track, or track adjacent.”

Janus blinked, slowly smiling. “Huh, you’re onto something. I could try it. Honestly, I wouldn’t know who to ask, but if I get permission, that’s a start.”

“...Well, what about someone you see a lot? Like… one of our roommates or something?” Virgil suggested. “I know you guys spend a lot of time together, so it could be a fun side project, and you would still have plenty of time to actually…y’know, work together without the class time?”

Janus blinked. That was… actually really smart. “Well, I wouldn’t want to jump the gun. I will still have to check and ensure I am allowed to outsource my partner. But, that is really smart. Thanks, I- I really appreciate the help.”

“Hey, man, not a problem. Just as long as I don’t have to go talk to any teachers for you.” Virgil smirked, and Janus met his tentative eye contact with an appreciative smirk.

“First I make you listen to my problems, and help me with them, then I force you into social interaction? You think so cruelly of me, Virgil, I would never!” 

Virgil snickered behind one of his hands. “You didn’t make me do anything, but… well, you’d be amazed at how selfish people can be.”

“Nah, I get it. One favor can turn into forging someone’s homework for the rest of the school year. I dunno what the public school system was getting at, but there are no benefits to being a smart kid,” Janus bemoaned.

“Bold of you to assume I was allowed to go to public school but yeah, something like that.” Virgil grimaced as he realized what had just come out of his mouth. 

“What- what do you mean by allowed?” 

“Nothing… just- um, forget it. See you.” Janus supposed he’d touched a nerve, as he watched Virgil speed off. Although, he had bigger problems to worry about at the moment. Namely, another debate with the offending semester project teacher.

Although, maybe he would be trying to have more conversations like that soon. Virgil was quite witty, and seemingly without even trying to be. 

And, he was also responsible for Janus’ success in his project, when later that afternoon, Roman enthusiastically agreed to help, but only after he begged for the details of the conversation earlier. 

Huh, he supposed this whole, befriending Virgil business was going to work out after all. With any luck, the others would have the same luck he and Logan had.

Oh, and that Virgil would get the hint and begin spending time with them willingly, that too, of course.

#sanders sides fanfiction #tss storytime 2023 #cw cursing #virgil sanders #janus sanders #logan sanders

[gettothestabbing]

Friendship issues

So I impulsively bought concert tickets for an older band I like a few months ago. And I say tickets plural because I thought, hey, this concert is in a city my old acquaintance X, who I recently started talking to regularly, lives in. I should invite him! It would be fun to get together and I feel like treating someone to something. So I did. He liked the idea and said yes.

Today I got a strong feeling that I should remind him of the date now that it’s only a month away. He quickly responds, “Oh, I won’t be back from my trip then, sorry.”

I know, from our conversations, that his trip details weren’t finalized until after I had invited him to this concert. I’ve never been to a live concert before, so I don’t know if my tickets are relatively cheap or not, but to me, it was a significant amount to pay. We hadn’t seen each other in person in some time. And it’s not some conflict with a significant other, since neither of us have one.

I told him that his forgetting hurt my feelings, he wrote me a carefully worded apology (which also implied that I had been told his trip details weren’t finalized at the time), and I accepted it. But I almost wish I hadn’t. It feels like, when someone is making an effort to apologize to you, you should accept it most of the time. It’s not that he didn’t apologize properly. The format was correct. But from the careless way he actually treated this invitation, and his failure to tell me on his own (having to be prompted) that he couldn’t make it, I don’t think he really sees this as important. And I feel like now that I have accepted this apology, there’s almost no way to express my continuing sense of hurt without coming across as unreasonable or as holding a grudge.

Blah blah blah, girls overanalyze and boys are straightforward. That’s kind of why I still feel hurt. I thought that this person respected me and my time, at least enough to give me a heads up if plans changed. And clearly, that’s just not the case. I had been looking forward to this, for a lot of reasons, and he didn’t even try to schedule his trip around it. I know the nature of the trip and it wouldn’t have been that difficult. So he just forgot it completely, didn’t even write it down. Wow.

(And honestly, I used to have a crush on this guy in college. Since we’re both single, and he is a rare unicorn who shares both my political and religious beliefs, I hoped to form a deeper connection. But obviously he doesn’t even think highly of me as a friend, despite our having talked almost daily for almost 6 months.)

I’m really tired and sad thinking about this pattern of friendships where I’m emotionally invested and the other person appears to be too, until they decide to just stop pretending and drop me. I had a friend I talked with regularly and had worked with. The moment she found out (how, I don’t know) that we voted differently, she spent multiple days messaging me long, condescending things trying to change my mind in time for the 2020 election before ceasing to speak to me altogether. She couldn’t put this one difference between us aside for a multi-year friendship.

Several times when I worked in New Jersey, I would befriend staff members that were close to my age. We had fun together, and I helped them drive to things or figure out American stuff if they were on a visa here. But often, after I would do something big for them (helping pick out a wedding dress, taking care of their pet, etc.), they would thank me and then just stop talking to me almost at all. They found my most useful point of existence for their life and decided that it wasn’t worth the time investing in a relationship with me anymore.

Not every adult friendship has been like this. But a fairly large portion of them have. It is hard to predict which relationships I invest in will continue for a long time and which will abruptly fall off a cliff.

#pers com #personal #friendship

[inqorporeal]

A very common trend among people requesting commissions -- regardless of whether it’s writing or art -- is that they themselves are not writers or artists and thus have no idea exactly what they’re truly requesting. Most of them have no idea how much time is required to get something done; they think it’s just typing or lines on paper. You press the button labeled “Make the thing” and *poof* it’s done! So simple! Anyone could do it! Why are you charging so much?

I’ve had people offer me $10 per page of work like it’s a massive favour (a page is roughly 300-500 words, depending on your formatting) without acknowledging the amount of time spent planning, outlining, and researching beforehand. A page-worth of content is closer to $150 at my standard rates (that’s per-word, plus a commission fee). For more intensive projects, I charge by the hour at $15 per, because I will be doing nothing but that for 8 hours a day, including weekends, and if you think going by minimum wage is unreasonable, you need to get back in your time machine and return to the 20th century.

This time, I received a contact about doing an illustration to decorate a product package. It was clearly some sort of commemorative thing. They asked for a map, done in an illuminated style, within one month. Was I interested? Well, yes, maps are relatively simple, and I have a lot of experience working in illuminated manuscript style from back when I was doing reenactment and living history in college; I could do that in a couple weeks. I asked for more information, and that’s when the red flags started popping up.

The first one was that they took several days to get back to me, and with as short a time frame as one month, I figured they’d found someone else. When their reply did come in, it included thirty pages of concept design document, and let me tell you, the amount of detail they wanted on a map smaller than two pieces of standard printer paper, within the space of one month, was infeasible. I have a full time job starting this week. I would have literally done nothing but work, commission, and sleep for thirty days -- there wouldn’t even be time to cook dinner; heaven help me if the trains had an issue. So I let them know it, as politely as possible:

While I am interested in your project, the scope of it is concerning, and I'm afraid I will have to decline. You want a lot of very fine, clear detail, at a very small scale, in colour, within a very short time frame. The map on its own would be easily done within the allotted time, but with the proposed illustrations included, the time required and the cost are both exponentially higher. One month is not enough time for that much art -- particularly because I would need to be in constant communication with someone for feedback to ensure the result is what you're looking for -- and I'm not certain you would be able to afford my standard rate for a project of this scale.

I did not quote them the estimate, which had calculated in at nearly $3000 at my standard rates (holy shit). I really didn’t think they would be able to afford that, but neither was I willing to burn myself out on the off chance that they could.

It seems that either reading comprehension is not their forte or they decided to try negging, because the reply I just got back was:

Thanks for your time and for your comments.

It's the most common reply, as it's surprisingly hard to find someone willing to draw in [this particular] style.

With no further queries.

Oh honey, it’s not the style. I’ve done that style before, I know exactly what’s required, and that’s why I’m telling you that one month is not enough time for your project. You don’t seem to understand how much time went into the manuscript illuminations in your reference files; and I am not a monk chained to a desk 16 hours a day. If you had said two months, I might have accepted. Good luck finding any artist who’s willing to work themself half to death because y’all waited til the eleventh hour to get your art done.

Also: I charge up front for stuff like this, because I did get stiffed by a company once, and that will never happen again.

If your commissioner comes to you with a shorter time frame than you would normally require for their project, don’t fucking take it. Burnout sucks -- not being facetious here, I do mean that the risk of hitting the depression threshold and crashing after an extended period of having zero free time to decompress and do your own thing, is very fucking high -- and no project is worth it.

#life of inq #not naming and shaming it's more of a vent post #i'm really not exaggerating about the amount of work they were asking for

[needleanddead]

Oooh 14 and 17 for everyone if your okay doing a lot? :D

anon i am always happy to talk at length!!! thank you for the ask ;w;

What’s their favorite book genre, if they enjoy reading at all?

Cass reads a lot of art history and likes books about or based on mythology. 

Constance has a weakness for fairytale fantasy romance; if not, she likes historical romance. She loves a lot of detail on pretty clothes!

Teddy’s biggest weakness is self-published werewolf erotica; he follows several series with slavish devotion and has his own personal favourite werewolf guys (usually the violent villains the heroic lead saves the protagonist from). 

Rose likes horror. They read a lot; their university course (before they were asked to leave) was in English Lit and Creative Writing. 

Van loves technical manuals! All of those fascinating inner workings! 

Lucas doesn’t read. He’s happy to listen to his beloved talk about their books if they do, though. 

Percy likes historical novels, and he especially likes taking a red pen and noting every inaccuracy in them.

Thorne has yet to read a modern book. He will need someone close by in order to explain things. He’d like fantasy, though - one doesn’t become a pirate if not looking for an escape, and fantasy provides that in spades! 

What’s the most ridiculous thing they’ve ever spent money on?

Cass literally never looks at the price on anything. This is a man who spends £600 on dinner without blinking. He sees something, he buys it; whether that’s a vintage velvet smoking jacket that he owns six exactly like, or getting an eyepatch custom made out of expensive lotus silk hand-embroidered with a dozen tiny roses. He clawed his fortune back with the price of his childhood and he’ll spend it as he damn well pleases. 

Constance wears custom made frilly dresses with price tags that make most people wince. She has spent awful amounts of money on stuffed animal purses that barely hold her credit card. It also cost an awful lot to refurbish some of her father’s clinic rooms into a space befitting her. Yes, she needed a custom pink bonesaw. Of course she did. 

Teddy doesn’t have (and has never had) money to go around throwing on frivolous purchases. His most unreasonable purchase was probably his car - not because it’s not useful, but because a vintage pink beetle is not ideal for a broad six foot tall man. The fluffy pink seat and wheel covers were also a bit of an indulgence. 

Rose also doesn’t usually spend frivolously. Their brushes with hoarding mean they try to think things through. That being said, they’ve never been able to resist cute bat plushes - their expensive clothes at least get worn (though they mostly buy second hand) ! They’ve also bought a lot of Halloween decor they really don’t need. 

Percy collects clocks; this means he has, on occasion, spent a lot of cash on expensive carved antique cuckoo clocks and solid gold pocket watches.

Van literally has no money and half of the time is using faerie magic and hypnotism to convince people to give him things like sugary drinks and shiny trinkets. 

Lucas buys his beloved anything they want. He has spent a lot of money indulging the hobbies of people who soon find themselves coming to a bitter, violent end - up to and including a potter’s wheel. 

Thorne tries to buy things, sometimes, with very old coins that haven’t been in circulation for some time. Imitation jewels and gold have gotten very good since his time; he loves treasure and shiny impressive things and has alas occasionally traded actual antique coins for gold plate and cubic zirconia.

#ask game #🦇 pip ocs

[rachaels]

florence's new album is about to cut my heart out with a big sword

#florence welch #florence and the machine #yes I spent an unreasonable amount of time making this thank you #shut up rachael

[ayybtch]

Psychotic

Bucky Barnes x f!Reader

Summary: You really love animals, Bucky not so much. A random TikTok brings to light exactly what Bucky thinks of you.

Word Count: 1,776

Warnings: Being told no to getting animals, a couple swear words here and there, blink and you miss it suggestiveness, and a very strange TikTok

A/N: Happy Valentines Day everyone! I watched this TikTok months ago and absolutely lost it when I saw it, so definitely give it a watch! Dividers made by the lovely @firefly-graphics​

A Mutual Weirdness Masterlist

Days off were a rare occurrence for Bucky. Rarer still were days off that coincided with yours, and it practically required cosmic intervention for both of you to be off on a weekend. This was the first Saturday Bucky had off in almost two months and he planned on spending it doing absolutely nothing.

He made a point to sleep in and stay in bed as long as he possibly could. Once the grumbling of his stomach finally won out, the day would start off with a giant breakfast followed by a long, hot shower. The remainder of the day would involve him sitting on his ass while enjoying a good book or watching TV. He’d stay where he was until he needed to eat and that’s the way he liked it.

Today, he wanted to make some progress on the strange Romanian murder-mystery novel Wanda had recommended. She swore up and down that it was one of the best she’s ever read, but so far Bucky was not impressed. The pacing was too slow, the characters were too dull, and the murder itself was not all that intriguing. He would have stopped already if it hadn’t been for Wanda pestering him about it.

He had been laying on the couch completely immersed for almost an hour trying to solve the case before the lead detective when you came rushing into the room. You climbed into his lap and sat there staring at him, eyes unsettlingly wide. Bucky peered back at you over the top of his book, suspicious as to what could possibly be running through your head. A small smile started to appear on your face, but you remained silent.  

“Can I help you?” Bucky asked after a few minutes without any change to your expression, which was growing more and more manic-looking by the second.

Your eyes seemed to snap back in focus as he spoke and the rest of your face became serious. “So I had an idea…” you said cautiously, suddenly far more serious than he had ever seen you look before. “What if we got chickens? Not too many, just like three. I think three is a good number.”

Bucky stared at you in disbelief. “We live in an apartment. Of course you can’t have chickens,” he said flatly. You rolled your eyes at his response.

“Obviously not right now, but in the future when we’re not living in an apartment. You know, after you and I get hitched and find a house we like.”

All of the confusion and concerns Bucky had were thrown out the window as he processed what you said. You want to buy a house with him? You want to marry him? The thought of being with you forever made his heart skip a beat and filled him with an overwhelming urge to kiss you. He realized you were still watching him expectantly, waiting for an answer. “S-Sure, I guess. I never really liked chickens though -”

He wasn’t even able to finish his sentence before your lips were pressed against his.

“You are the best! Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!” you yelled, kissing him all over his face between thank you’s.

When you broke apart, an excited squeal left you that had his ears ringing. You laid down fully on his chest and started rambling about how nice it would be to have some land so you could have a nice big garden filled with every fruit and vegetable imaginable, a decent sized back patio or porch for friends to come over, and plenty of space for the chickens to have a giant coop. You even started listing out possible names for the chickens. Your seemingly endless ramble ended unexpectedly as you trailed off mid-sentence, gasping slightly after a moment. You picked your head up just enough off his chest to look him in the eyes.

“If we have enough room, can we also have goats?”

Bucky groaned, “Don’t push it, Doll. I’ve barely agreed to the chickens.” He pulled you back down onto his chest and placed a gentle kiss on the top of your head before he continued reading.

It was almost a week later before Bucky had his next day off. He decided to plan a long-overdue date night. It was nothing fancy, just a casual dinner at a restaurant you liked followed up with dessert. After you left the restaurant, the two of you made your way through a stretch of Central Park. He had intended for it to be a romantic walk, full of hand-holding and kissing that maybe could lead to something else once you were back at the apartment. Instead, it quickly turned into one of the worst decisions of his life.

Everything was going according to plan until you spotted the raccoon family of three hanging out in the tree not far off the path. Bucky didn’t even need to look at you to know you were staring at them with the same heart eyes you always stare at animals with.

The raccoons were in a relatively low tree branch, each snacking on some food they had scavenged from a nearby trash can. You pulled Bucky off the sidewalk and into the grass. Your excitement grew with each step you took towards the tree.

“Bucky look at their little hands! How cute are they?” You whisper yelled, practically jumping up and down with excitement. You were so focused on them that it gave Bucky the chance to watch and appreciate how enamored you were. While it drove him nuts sometimes how many animals you wanted, it never stopped being adorable to him how passionate you were about them. Bucky had no doubt you’d manage to sweet-talk him into more than he’d care to admit, but if it meant seeing you smile like this every day then it’ll be worth it. He was so lost in his thoughts of what your future may hold that he hardly heard what you were saying to the raccoons. It wasn’t until you finally turned to look at him that he tuned back into what you were saying.

“Do you think raccoons would make good pets?”

Without a word, he picked you up and slung you over his shoulder before turning to walk away, shaking his head as he did.

“Oh my god, babe! Look at this baby cow!” you gushed, bursting out of the bedroom and into the kitchen where Bucky was making breakfast. “It’s so fucking fluffy, I need it.” The emphasis on need left Bucky scoffing as you shoved the phone into his hand. You stood there and stared at him, grinning ear to ear as you continued to ramble about the baby cow.

He eventually had to cut you off, “Doll, we’ve been over this a dozen times. You don’t actually want a cow, you just want a cow you can hang out with. Now sit down and eat your eggs before they get cold.” He scooped out some scrambled eggs onto a plate before placing it at your usual spot at the counter.

You grumbled slightly before sitting down on the barstool, stabbing your eggs harder than necessary with your fork. “You didn’t even acknowledge how cute it is.”

“It’s very cute. But I’ve already agreed to quite the menagerie so I have to put my foot down somewhere. I’ve already said yes to the chickens and it’s at least maybe on goats, and possibly a pig if we have enough room.”

“I’ve already said yes to the chickens and maybe on goats and pigs,” you said mockingly. “What difference does a cow make if we’ve already got all of those?” you asked, mouth full of food.

Bucky stared at you, shaking his head and sighing. “You’re lucky I love you, woman.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead and sat down to join you for breakfast.

It was almost a month later before the two of you finally were able to have a quiet night together. The evening had been spent cooking dinner, making a mess in the kitchen as you did, followed by making a different kind of mess in the living room not long after. Now, the two of you were laying in bed together winding down for the night. Bucky was reading while you laid there scrolling mindlessly on your phone. You giggled from time to time, pausing to show him a funny meme here and there, but for the most part, the room was quiet.

It wasn’t until you were in full-on giggles that Bucky leaned his book against his chest and stared at you waiting for an explanation.

Once the giggles died down, you rolled slightly to be closer to him. “You have to watch this wack ass video.” Your laughter started up again before you even hit play.

Bucky watched as the guy in the video kept pulling out stranger and stranger animals. He chuckled throughout the video, but it wasn’t until a thought struck him at the end that he really burst out laughing.

“That’s going to be you in five years if I haven’t already married you and kept your psychotic ass from getting an unreasonable amount of animals.”

Your laughter died and you stared at him reproachfully. “Bucky, baby...do you think I’m psychotic?” Somehow you managed to sound unconcerned by the possibility of being psychotic. If anything, you seemed almost amused.

“Honestly? I think you’re on the brink of snapping sometimes,” he said with a slight shrug.

You stared back at him, not fully sure if he was joking or not. The serious look on his face confirmed he wasn’t joking and you couldn’t help but laugh. “Good to know you think I’m one mental breakdown away from snuggling with a possum, you jerk,” you teased, placing a quick peck on his cheek.

Bucky turned to fully face you, looking you dead in the eyes. “Be honest with me, if the possum was replaced by one of those raccoons we saw a couple weeks ago, how unreasonable would that seem to you?”

Your face felt hot and you stuttered for a moment before going quiet. “I guess that’s fair,” you mumbled, eyes rolling slightly. “But raccoons are cuter, you can’t blame me for wanting to snuggle one.”

“I know, you fucking weirdo. Now come here,” Bucky said, grabbing you and pulling you into his chest. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head and a comfortable silence fell over you. A few minutes later, Bucky spoke again.

“For the record though, possums and raccoons are both firmly on the ‘no’ list.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #a mutual weirdness

[hnderyx]

hey can you do their reactions on first date? i'm loving your posts

WayV's First Dates

Hey anon :) Thank you so much for your request~!

I hope you enjoy

Kun:

Kun had recently asked you out on your first date

You honestly didn't know what you were expecting to do when he came and picked you up from your place

But spotting a cute little picnic basket and a checkered sheet in the back seat of his car, it clicked

He was going to take you out on a picnic, duh

He knew after your years of friendship that you adored his cooking

So he thought "maybe I should just cook something just for them and I"

When you two arrived at your destination, being the gentleman he is, he helps you out of his luxury Mercedes

(He wouldn't admit it but he wants to flex a bit for you)

And honestly, this place was beautiful

"Kun, it's stunning here.. Wow"

You marvel at the lush green grass and the beautiful weeping willows decorating the open field

He linked his hands with yours, the picnic basket and sheet in his other

He led you to a very specific spot, next to a small trickling stream

"I come sit here sometimes when I'm feeling overwhelmed, y/n. I thought that since you know.. we're dating now I should begin to show you my safe places" he said as he spread out the checkered sheet and set the basket on top of it

You planted yourself on top of the sheet, and he followed

After opening the basket, he pulls out your lunch

It was simple, but adorable

He had made precious little bite sized sandwiches and beautifully decorated heart shaped cookies

Two cans of coke for you two to drink as well

And a bag of chips

"I hope this is alright, y/n.. I know it's not much bu-"

"Kun, it's absolutely precious. I love it so much."

He smiles and laces his hand with yours

You two spend hours sitting and enjoying nature

Maybe you two fall asleep in each other's arms and wake up 3h later when the sun is setting

Ten:

Ten was extremely nervous about picking you up for your first date together

He was slightly worried that maybe you wouldn't enjoy what he had planned

Slightly? I mean he was nearly shaking because he really wanted to have many many dates with you after this one

If he messes up now, it could nuke the possibility of any other dates

He had told you to dress somewhat formally

Preferably in a suit and tie or a flowy dress

So when he sees you walking to his car from your door, he's starstruck at how you look

He had planned taking you to a waltz class and then to an Italian dinner

Guy wanted to be extra

So when you arrive at the class

And you realize what he had planned

You're flustered because

Holy shit, you're expected to dance with the man that is known in the music industry partially because of his dancing?

You're nervous, yet so grateful

He guides you slowly and eventually you get the steps

And the way it feels to be in his arms as you two dance together ignites a fire in your heart

All you feel for Ten at that moment is just an insane amount of love

After the class is finished, you're in awe when he takes you two a dimly lit restaurant

A candle lit restaurant as well??

Damn, Ten really knew how to get you in the loving mood

When he drops you off at home, you invite him in for tea

He asks you for a dance

And you two waltz around your living room like a couple of fools

But a couple of fools that were in love

Winwin:

It took months before Winwin actually got the guts to ask you out

He'd manage to get half the question out before changing the whole conversation

So when he finally forced it out, and you accepted

He was over the moon

But now the problem is..

Where should he take you?

He decided to settle for something easy but just as special as anything else

And that was taking you for a walk in your local park

It was fall, so the leaves were turning and the air was somewhat chilly

"y/n, to warm our hands, do you want a warm drink?"

"Yes please, Sicheng"

You two went to get coffee/tea

And with your coffee/tea in your left hand and Sicheng's hand in the right

It gave you a feeling in your chest like a roaring campfire

You two talked for what seemed like an eternity

About anything and everything

Sitting on a bench, hand in hand

As you watch people and their dogs stroll by

Eventually, you started to get a bit cold

So you two made your way back to your apartment

You invited him in for snacks and maybe some TV

As you were watching some randomly picked out b-movie

You two fell asleep in each other's arms

Lucas:

He's actually adorable. I just wanna hold his hand.

When Lucas originally asked you out

He never thought that you'd actually agree

So he didn't think of anything past the idea of asking you

When you went "sure, I'd love to go out with you. What would you want to do?"

He halted

"I don't know.. Maybe just go see a movie on Friday night?"

It was a basic idea, but an idea nonetheless

So when Friday night came and he picked you up

Poor guy was super nervous

You two settled on seeing some action spy movie thing

You didn't want to admit to him that sometimes during these movies, you get motion sick

So when you get the slight nauseated feeling from keeping your eyes on the fast moving screen

You hide your face in Lucas' shoulder, doing deep breath exercises

You grab his hand and as he realizes you're not exactly feeling well

He rubs tiny patterns into the top of your palm

"Do you maybe just want to go walk around the mall, y/n? We can leave now if you'd like"

"Yes please.."

He guides you out of the theatre and into the adjoining mall

As your eyes land on Build-a-Bear Workshop, you give him puppy eyes

"Xuxi, let's build a bear together!"

Oh, how could he say no?

So you two build a stereotypical teddy bear together

But with one of those hearts that they put in that does the little heartbeat thing

He admires the way you look as you butt-fuck the stuffing into the bear (idk how else to describe it I'm so sorry)

And honestly, he has a bit of a hard time letting you take the bear home but he has to be the charming "yes, you can have the bear" type #MatureXuxi

He's so happy when you agree to another date ;)

Xiaojun:

Xiaojun preformed at your local bar on Saturday nights

As his best friend, you'd always agree to be there

Until he asked you something that genuinely surprised you

"Do you maybe want to come and see my show as... my girlfriend and date? I mean, you don't have to but..."

"I'd love to, Dejun."

You had been having certain feelings for Xiaojun shortly after you two developed a friendship

Anyways,

On Saturday night, he had picked you up

At the bar, you helped him prepare for his performance

Setting up the microphone, tuning his guitar, etc.

He had written a song for you that he would perform in front of the audience

And God, if your face wasn't flushed at the way he introduced you to the crowd as his girlfriend

Then it definitely would've been after he sang this song about how handsome/beautiful you were

After his performance, he sat across from you at your table

"Did you like it, y/n?"

"Y-Yes, I loved it.."

He reached his hands across the table and grabbed your hand

"I love you, y/n."

He pressed a gentle kiss on the top of your hand

Quite a weird first date, but a very heartfelt one.

Hendery:

You and Hendery had a specific place to always go as friends

And that was the arcade

He loved how you'd jump around and smile after beating the high score on one of the flashy machines

He also found it hilarious when you'd input "ur mum" as your name after you've absolutely obliterated 1st the place score

So when he asked you

"y/n you think you'd like to go on a date with me to the arcade? I mean like.. a date date"

It kinda hit different

I mean, it was the place you'd always hang out with him

But this wasn't as homies

This was as blossoming lovers

You were unreasonably nervous, and so was he

You two eventually stopped being shy around each other

And started pushing each other around if you or he wanted to play one of the games you've played millions of times before, first

The way he cheered you on as you played some type of Street Fighter

It really opened your eyes to how you truly felt about Hendery

Every compliment that he spilled

It'd make your face flush

I mean, you knew you had a bit of a crush on him in the first place

But now? Now you knew you were undeniably in love with him

After this little occasion, you two started to go on more date dates to other places besides the arcade

Yangyang:

You and Yangyang spent the majority of your time at the PC cafe with each other

Playing some online games

Sometimes other members of NCT would join you as well

It became something you'd look forward to at the end of the week

You and Yangyang were almost ALWAYS teammates

You weren't too sure if he always requested to be on your team because he liked you or because he thought you were a good player

Maybe both?

Definitely both.

After your hangout with Yangyang and a handful of NCT members, he asked you out for a trip to the bakery

"y/n, you maybe wanna join me to the bakery? I'll buy you something... it'll be a little date"

A date?

"Sure, Yang. I'd love to. Free food is a bonus too."

Your face went red as he slips his hand into yours and pulls you towards the bakery

You two unknowingly kept your hands grasped to each other's as you picked out a small dessert

"Yangyang, do you maybe... like me?"

"Like you? Of course I do" he squeezes your hand "I think I like you more than a friend should like a friend"

Oh so this..

This WAS a date

"I like you like that too, Yangyang..."

He flashes you his signature Yangyang™ smile

"Then lets do little dates more?" he asks

"Yeah, I'd love to..."

#wayv scenarios #wayv reactions #wayv #wayv kun #wayv ten #wayv winwin #wayv lucas #wayv xiaojun #wayv hendery #wayv yangyang #nct reactions #nct scenarios

[ibijau]

Xue Yang’s Master pt 2 / On AO3

Xue Yang and the wounded boy he rescued make a deal

By the time morning came, Xue Yang was exhausted, but he was alive.

So was the rich kid, sadly.

Not just alive, but his fever had fallen a little. He was also less pale, and seemed to be breathing a little less slowly. When Xue Yang knelt next to the bed and took his wrist to check his pulse, the rich kid opened his eyes and stared at him again.

“Thank you,” he said weakly, which made things rather awkward for Xue Yang who had just figured that he would really have to kill the older boy himself after all. “Thank you, I’ll… I’ll repay you.”

He certainly was going to repay Xue Yang. That sword and the gold guan were going to change his life for good. At the same time, Xue Yang was a little curious what the older boy thought he could offer, in these circumstances.

“Repay me how?” he asked. “Do you have money?”

The rich kid frowned. Through a great effort, he managed to check inside his sleeves, producing only a very small pouch and an elegant fan that would probably be enough for Xue Yang to buy another servant, when he had his farm, or at the very least a strong pair of oxen.

“Money,” the rich kid rasped. “I think… no, I think it’s empty. I spent it all… unreasonable again. But I can… Are you interested in cultivation? I can teach you.”

In spite of himself, Xue Yang perked up at the suggestion. He wasn’t stupid, he knew only very few people had the right disposition to really learn cultivation, and most of those were already born in sects that practiced it. It wasn’t for poor people, cultivation, unless those rich folks took pity of you… or unless they needed new servants for cheap. Everyone knew that Chang Ci’an treated the disciples that didn’t share his blood as little better than slaves, and he wasn’t the only one like that.

Still, Xue Yang had always dreamed that someday, he might make Chang Ci’an pay for his lost finger, and he knew that the only way something like that could happen was if he were to become a cultivator as well… or to have enough money and power to hire one to do the job for him. Sects might be righteous, but rogue cultivators were more bribable, everyone knew that. But if he could save himself the expense by eliminating the middleman…

“You don’t really look like a cultivator,” Xue Yang pointed out, mostly to tease. “And if you’re one, you’re a bad one, getting almost killed and all. Doesn’t sound like you’d make a very good teacher.”

Again, the rich kid frowned. This time, he put a hand on his stomach, a little under where his navel would be.

“Ah… I’m good enough for a golden core, at least,” he sighed. “I… I can’t make you an immortal, that’s certain. But… but if you have the basics down, then a real sect could take you on. They… most of them, they like when part of the job has been done for them.”

“Are you part of a sect?”

The rich kid pinched his lips, staring at Xue Yang for a moment before slowly nodding.

“Can you get me into your sect?” Xue Yang asked. “Then I’d get a proper shizun right away, it’d be better.”

“Not… Not an option. It’s… they’re gone. Everyone's gone, I think.”

“Killed by the Wen?” Xue Yang guessed. He didn’t know a lot about the details of that Sunshot Campaign, nor did anyone who wasn’t a cultivator, but he’d heard rumours that the Wen had slaughtered some of the other sects and that had started it all. But to his surprise, the rich kid shook his head, wincing at his own movement.

“I am a Wen,” he confessed in a low voice. “I… I’m Wen Chao. I have to be.”

Xue Yang looked at the rich kid with wide shocked eyes. Even he knew the name Wen Chao, the second son of Wen Ruohan. Some people said Wen Chao was the one who’d caused the war to start by attacking another sect that had had more allies than he’d realised. More importantly, some people, a lot of people, said that Wen Chao had died about halfway through the war, or even earlier than that.

“You don’t seem too sure of yourself,” Xue Yang remarked with what he thought was great tact.

The alleged Wen Chao blinked a few times, looking worried.

“I’m… I have to be… it makes sense, it’s the only thing that… Everything is so… I can’t make sense of things, but this, it makes sense, it’s the only thing… I have to be, I have to… my head hurts. Can, Can I have something to drink?”

There was a well behind the little house, from which Xue Yang was able to draw water. It didn't smell of anything, and he couldn't see any bugs in it, so it had to be clean enough. The rich kid eagerly drank some, and then passed out again, his fever having returned somewhat. 

Xue Yang hesitated. He looked at that sword he'd taken from the older boy, already stained with blood, then at the other boy's face, and sighed. It was a risk, trusting that rich kid, and one he probably shouldn't have taken, not when murder was such a clean and easy option, but… 

But even Xue Yang had dreams, and he just couldn’t pass this slim chance of becoming a cultivator. 

Although he had little experience taking care of others, Xue Yang did his best in the days that followed. He made sure the rich kid drank plenty, to compensate for what his fever made him sweat, and made him eat a little whenever he woke up, so he'd have strength to heal. For an ordinary person it probably wouldn't have been enough, but cultivators were different. After four days, the rich kid no longer had a fever and although he remained weak, he started being able to sit up and talk. 

"Thank you for taking care of me," he told Xue Yang when he was well enough to chat.

Xue Yang, sitting cross-legged next to the bed, shrugged. 

"I just did it because you said you'd teach me cultivation. You better not back down on that." 

The rich kid pinched his lips, his eyes glancing to the sword that never left Xue Yang now. He then smiled quite peacefully. 

"I'll teach you everything I know," the rich kid promised. "But if you're not made for it, it won't do you any good. Give me your hand a moment, so I can check." 

Without hesitation, Xue Yang gave his left hand, the right one firmly on the sword's hilt. The rich kid glanced over his missing finger without comment, and inspected his wrist a moment before gently sending some energy through Xue Yang's body. He then gasped in surprise. 

"Oh, you'll be good at this if you put in the effort! With a student like you, even I should manage to be a teacher."

He sounded relieved, sincerely so, as if he'd been worried about his capacity to keep his promise. Of course, it was probably just because he realised that Xue Yang, while younger and not a cultivator, wasn't above trying to kill him if he weren't useful enough. 

"What's your name?" the rich kid asked. 

"I'm Xue Yang. What's yours?" 

"I'm Wen Chao. But a disciple should call his master shizun, right? Not that I'm asking you to!" Wen Chao quickly added, glancing at the sword again. "Call me whatever you like, I guess." 

“Are you really Wen Chao?” Xue Yang asked. “I’d heard both of Wen Ruohan’s sons had died.”

Wen Chao frowned, his face darkening as he gave that question more consideration than anyone should have done upon being asked to confirm their identity. If he was merely lying, then he wasn’t very good at it.

“Everything is a little confused right now,” Wen Chao admitted, closing his eyes with a pained grimace. “I can’t… I can’t be sure. But I remember… it makes sense. I am from an affluent cultivation family, I know that, know it for sure. I’m a second son, and not… not very favoured by my family. They think… no, they know that my older brother is miles above me in terms of skills. He’s the one everyone likes, with good reasons. And there’s that sword… it’s a Wen sword, I know it is and I had it in hand after… after…”

He paused and licked his lips, closing his eyes tighter while hunching his shoulders.

“It’s the only weapon I had on me, after he attacked me,” he whispered. “That man… I don’t know who, but he hated me, wanted me dead. I know that. Almost did. Almost killed me. It was… I don’t know how I escaped. And I… I think it was about the war.”

Wen Chao reopened his eyes, gazing into the distance.

“Yes, it was about the war,” he said, shivering. “I just know that. I had to die, so the victory could be complete. He needed me gone. So I’m a rich second son of the Wen sect, whose survival could compromise the success of the Sunshot Campaign… who else could I be but Wen Chao?”

Feeling a reaction might be expected of him, Xue Yang shrugged. He didn’t know a lot about the sons of Wen Ruohan, aside from the sort of things that everyone knew. They were spoiled, and they were cruel, one had died at the hands of the terrifying Nie Mingjue who’d put his head on display, the other had… disappeared. Just vanished. There hadn’t even been a body to show off, apparently, because it had been too badly damaged.

All things considered, that was a very odd thing, wasn’t it?

Xue Yang looked carefully at his new teacher. He could well have been a Wen. He did have a northern look to him, so it wasn’t so far-fetched for him to be from that sect. And with all that gold on him… it made some amount of sense. Enough to give him the benefit of the doubt, at least until his memory returned.

“Fine then, shizun,” Xue Yang said. “I guess you’ve got to know better than me. Now, give me a lesson in cultivation. Or are you too tired?”

Wen Chao, who had opened his mouth to protest, quickly closed it again and shook his head with a thin smile.

“No, I’m sure I can handle at least a little.”

Xue Yang grinned, and prepared to listen attentively.

His teacher had better be good and his own progress had better be fast, because between the two of them, Xue Yang was the one with a sword now.

#nie huaisang #xue yang #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #jau writes #nhs is wc au

[god-of-defenestration]

reasons I am Not Human

Look idk if I’m an eldritch horror or what, but it has recently come to my attention that if you made a list of all the suspicious things about me, it would be...pretty unbelievable. So:

I have the rough tooth arrangement of a large apex predator. (Yes, humans are technically apex predators. I’m talking about something e l s e.) At my first orthodontist’s appointment, they were very confused because apparently I just Don’t Have several adult teeth. There was nothing under my gums when the baby teeth fell out in some spots. Incidentally, these spots line up with my extra set of canines in such a way that my jaw is essentially designed for tearing into stuff.

I have no ability to comprehend music theory no matter how many times it’s been explained to me, but can sing back any sequence of notes on key after hearing it once. Not perfect pitch, necessarily, but perfect pitch matching.

All cats like me. All of them.

So do crows. I carry snacks for them. They remember me.

I am so completely and unreasonably Not Cold at all times that several doctors are concerned. I wear short skirts in winter in the north. I swim in unheated outdoor pools in freezing rain. I can bite popsicles and ice cream and I never get brain freeze.

Everyone thinks they’re super stealth quiet when they want to be, but I. Genuinely am. My roommates insist that I manufacture noise when I approach so I don’t give them heart attacks.

No gag reflex. Not in a sexy way. In a scary way.

Stupid high pain tolerance, apparently?? But no drug tolerance?? I’ve had to have multiple dental surgeries (see above) and no one dares give me more than a half dose of anesthesia anymore.

Speaking of anesthesia, I regularly speak in a Russian accent after waking up from surgeries. I have no memory of a lot of the videos that people have shown me of myself speaking in that accent.

I do not swim exceptionally fast, but I can hold my breath underwater for unprecedented amounts of time. I do not swim like a human. I do not know the names of my strokes. I disappear underwater in the river and languish there.

I have ridiculous joint flexibility. I have never danced or done gymnastics, but can fold myself into various pretzel shapes without warming up.

Despite this, I cannot do the splits. I have no idea why.

When I was an older kid, I was asked to participate in a study about youth reactions to stress. Due to the “nature of the study,” the researchers couldn’t tell us any of the specifics, but I was compensated for my time and spent several hours in an MRI machine playing brain and memory games. I met with the researchers again a few weeks later and they all treated me very differently. One of them told my mom that I, quote, “shouldn’t have been able to do that. Most adults don’t function that way under stress. She’s off the charts.” I still have no idea what the study was actually about.

Idk about that study reflecting on my intelligence at all though, because I can’t process numbers, like at all, whatsoever. None. Math stopped making sense to me in freshman year of high school. I can’t remember even short strings of numbers. I have to recalculate tips upwards of four times before I’m sure I have it right. I forget dates as soon as they’re told to me.

In conclusion: yike. Thank u for coming to my Ted Talk.

#eldritch #eldritch horror #uncanny #story #story time #storytime #gen z #dark academia #cursed #goblin #goblincore #immortal #immortal energy #mri #high school #mental health #disorder #anxiety disorder #cats #vampire #vampire aesthetic #gothic #american gothic #american horror

[jamiemackenziefraser]

All That Was Fair 

Chapter 19: Merry of Soul

Summary: Claire and Jamie begin to settle in with each other, and Claire continues to experience human oddities.

Read on AO3

Read chp 19 on tumblr below the cut

Previous, master list, next

Chapter 19: Merry of Soul

***

If Jamie thought Claire had been touchy before, nothing compared to the amount of contact they had now that they were together. Her hands— or lips— were all over him at the most unexpected moments (and the expected moments as well, to be fair). Not that Jamie was complaining. Though every bit of contact still brought a blush to his cheeks and made his heart race so fast it could have torn out of his chest, he never wanted her to stop. 

It had been two days since the fateful trip to Craigh na Dun and the following declarations of love. Two days since she’d decided to stay with him— bloody fool that he was. Two days of bliss with the love of his life. 

He’d left her that morning still asleep in their (their!) room. Her limbs had been strewn all over the place, making her look like a starfish sprawled on the bed. After disentangling himself from underneath her wee but aggressive arm, he’d placed a kiss to her temple, smiling with contentment that she was his to wake up to and kiss every morning. 

Standing then in front of the stove, flipping his pancakes absently, he thanked God for the blessing of her. He breathed in a long sigh and tried to fully appreciate the perfection of his life. 

The quiet was interrupted by a pair of arms snaking around his waist, making him jump. 

“Did you forget about me?” A silky voice asked, lips brushing the back of his ear and sending a shiver down his spine. Claire must have been standing on her tiptoes to reach him. 

He placed his own hands over top of hers, hugging her arms, and swayed slightly back and forth to take her with him where she was pressed against his back. Affection welled up inside him, so strong that he was nearly overcome. 

“I couldna forget ye, mo chridhe. I only didna want tae wake ye up. Ye looked sae bonny and peaceful.” 

“You should have. I don’t like being in the… what is it called again?—” 

“Bed,” Jamie answered automatically.

“Bed. I don’t like being in bed without you. Besides, I quite like how you wake me.” 

A blush rose in Jamie’s cheeks as he thought about how he’d kissed her awake the past two mornings. He loved seeing her sleepy eyes open and her smile as she met the day with the sight of him. How her lips would grow more eager as she regained consciousness… 

“I’m verra sorry for leavin’ ye,” he apologized, turning around in her arms so he could loop his own around her waist, “whatever can I do tae make it up tae ye?” 

Claire hummed, looking exaggeratedly thoughtful, and then tapped a finger on her cheek expectantly. 

Happy to oblige, Jamie leaned down and placed a kiss at the indicated spot. Claire smiled in response, looking like a cat that got the cream. She then tapped the other cheek, and Jamie was quick to give it the same treatment, this time letting his lips linger for a long moment. Her smile widening, she pointed to her forehead. 

“Awfully demanding, are ye no’?” Jamie accused warmly before pressing an obedient kiss there. 

Claire just murmured an assent— apparently completely willing to own it— before her wee finger was placed over her lips. 

It took Jamie only the length of a heartbeat to cover her mouth with his own, uncaring of trivial things like morning breath or whether or not Claire would be able to taste the residual pancake batter on his lips. If she could, she didn’t mind, because she spent the next minute withdrawing half a centimeter only to kiss him again, her tongue less than timid as she indulged herself. He found it unreasonably enjoyable, and his hand wandered up to cup the back of her head to keep her mouth on his. 

Her appreciative murmur vibrated his lips, and that only served to encourage him all the more. 

But he was interrupted from his task by Claire drawing back enough to gasp, “do you smell that?” 

Tearing his eyes away from her puffy lips, he turned around toward the stove to see that his pancakes— really now more black lumps— had smoke rising from them in active billows. 

“Christ!” he swore, at the same time as the smoke detector began to go off. 

At the shrill noise, Claire let out a startled cry and smacked her hands over her ears. Jamie didn't have time to reassure her as he lunged toward the burning pancakes and tore them off the heat. He juggled them with one hand and turned on the fan with the other before shutting off the stove. With everything going wrong, of course it was that very moment when the handle of his old pan decided to snap, and the bowl of the pan (smoking pancakes included), started to fall. On instinct, Jamie grabbed for it with his free hand. Pain shot through him on contact, and he hissed as he jerked his hand away, allowing the damn thing to tumble to the ground. He jumped out of the way, smashing into Claire, who still was holding her hands over her ears and looking terrified. 

Exclaiming some rather colorful words, Jamie reached out his not burnt hand to steady Claire.

“Sorry, lass. It’s okay, dinna fash,” he said with a raised voice over the obnoxious beeping of the fire alarm directly over their head. 

“What’s that sound?” Claire yelled out, looked very distressed with her wide eyes and hunched shoulders. 

“It’ll stop in a second,” he shouted. 

Sure enough, as the smoking mess on the floor subsided, the smoke detector went quiet. Jamie breathed a sigh of relief. 

Claire, the poor thing, looked nearly ready to cry. 

“It was jes’ the smoke alarm, mo nighean donn,” he tried to reassure, “the sound makes sure that I ken there’s a fire so I can put it out.”

“I did not like that,” she said with a shake of her head, shuddering. 

“I’m sorry, a leannan, come here.”

Drawing her close, Jamie gave his faerie a cuddle. She melted into him, and the tension flowed from her muscles as soon as he enveloped her. It made Jamie swell with a certain satisfaction to comfort her over something so trivial, as if he were some knight in shining armor who’d rescued the fair maiden from the beastly alarm— only he’d actually been the one to cause it in the first place and he hadn’t done anything but make a mess while trying to solve it. 

As if suddenly remembering, or perhaps she could sense the slight sting in his fingers, Claire drew back and exclaimed, “give me your hand!”

Smiling but a bit nervous, Jamie held out his hand for her. He watched with anticipation as the soft golden light emanated from her hands as they formed a cup around his. This time, instead of watching the light, he turned his head up to look at Claire’s face. Her brow was furrowed in concentration, lines etched in her face as she focused all her energy. She blinked hard once, shook her head, and went back to staring down at their joined hands. Jamie felt the tingling warmth flow through him, making his hand buzz with energy. The pain began to subside, and the determined expression on her bonny features eased. After half a second more, the light faded from her palms. She didn’t let go, but stroked his now perfect fingers between her hands. 

To add the finishing touch, she brought his hand to her lips and began to kiss each finger one by one. Her lips were soft; her kisses more healing than even her energy. 

“Ye make a good nurse,” Jamie said in a gravely tone, enraptured by her gentle touches. 

“Hmmm?” she murmured, still focused on her task. Finishing with his pinky, she curled his fingers down and pressed one last feather-light kiss to his knuckles.  

“Ye’re a fine healer, Sassenach,” Jamie amended. He brought his newly healed finger tips up under her chin and tilted her face up toward him. “And I’m verra grateful ye’re mine.” 

He leaned in to give her a proper kiss. She didn’t respond as enthusiastically as usual, but her lips molded to his and in a passive sort of way. He chalked it up to her nerves over the alarm and concern over his injury, but it still disturbed him because she had never responded in this way. 

Following his resolution to communicate better, he pulled back and asked while cupping her face with a tender hand, “are ye alright, mo chridhe?” 

The smile she mustered seemed forced, which didn’t do much to ease his worries. “I’m fine,” she said, “just felt strange for a second, it’s nothing.”

He kept studying her for another long second, but she remained firm in her statement without adding anything else. With a dip of his shoulders, he decided to let it go. 

“I’m sorry about that, my sweet one,” he said with a self-deprecating shake of his head, “I didna mean for all this chaos this morning.” 

“It’s not your fault, Jamie,” she countered. The newly growing smile seemed much more genuine again as she added, “I probably shouldn’t have distracted you while you were making…”

“Pancakes,” Jamie filled in. 

“Pancakes,” she echoed, looking thoughtful. 

She was trying to learn words as much as she could, and Jamie found that he quite liked his role as tutor. At least he quite liked rewarding her for her learning of new vocabulary. 

“And the word for the first meal of the day, do ye recall?” he quizzed. 

Looking up at him with a triumphant expression, she exclaimed, “breakfast.”

“Mmmm,” he hummed approvingly, “that’s verra good.” 

He leaned down and gave her a soft, gentle peck on the lips, and as he drew back, he found she was smiling. 

“You’re a very good teacher, you know,” she said, “maybe soon I’ll start teaching you another language and see if you’re as good of a student. Which one would you prefer?” 

Jamie laughed, “maybe we take it one step at a time. I can barely keep up wi’ things as it is. Maybe we start wi’ fair folk culture and go on from there.”

“Deal,” she agreed. 

“Anyway,” he said, marveling a little at her ability to get him sidetracked, “it seems my breakfast has been ruined. Perhaps ye’ll give me a wee moment tae grab somethin’ else?”

“Hmmm,” Claire looked gravely ponderous as she considered his request, “I suppose I’ll allow it just this once.” 

Jamie rolled his eyes with a smile that betrayed how happy moments like these made him. He took a step away from her, already mourning the loss, and headed over to the pantry. 

As he stood debating between the merits of cereal or a granola bar (both required no cooking, thank you very much), hands suddenly snaked their way under his shirt. He stiffened in surprise at first, and then relaxed as the hands started to stroke up and down the length of his back. 

He shot a glance over his shoulder to see Claire behind him looking innocently up at him. He raised a brow. 

“What are ye doin’, lass?” he asked. 

She gave a little shrug but did not remove her hands. “Touching you.” 

There’s his faerie. 

“Is that no’ what got us in trouble in the first place?” 

She gave a little hum that said I can’t argue with that, but then countered, “I don’t think I care.” 

Forgetting all about breakfast, Jamie whirled around. He grabbed the backs of her legs and hoisted her up into his arms. She let out a squeal but quickly got with the program, wrapping her legs around Jamie’s middle and her arms around his neck. 

As he held her tightly against him, their fronts smashed together, he turned his face to catch her mouth and kiss her fervently. Those perfect lips against his seemed almost victorious as she pressed them to his just as passionately. A hum of satisfaction rose from her, making Jamie nearly drop her with how watery it made his legs. 

After a long moment of enjoying her mouth against his, he finally drew back. 

“I dinna ken how every time I kiss ye it feels like the first time,” he breathed. 

“And I don’t understand how the first time I kissed you it felt like the hundredth time,” she agreed. 

“Hey,” he said suddenly, smiling so hard his face felt like it would split and tightening his grip on her thighs, “I love you, you know that?” 

“I love you, James Fraser,” she replied, her gaze soft with adoration. 

Jamie went to put her down then, releasing his grip on her legs and expecting her weight to drop off of him. Only instead of her legs unwrapping from his waist and her hopping down, she clung to him stubbornly. 

As he brought his hands far out to the each side to marvel at the barnacle that seemed to be glued to him, Claire tightened her hold. 

“A leannan,” he chuckled, “are ye no’ getting down, then?” 

“Don’t think so,” she said from where her face was pressed into his neck. 

He let out a very Scottish noise from deep in his throat. With one hand, he held her against him just to keep her steady, and with the other, he turned back to the pantry and began rooting through the items. 

He withdrew victorious with a granola bar from the package, and he held it up behind him to the wee faerie. 

“Care tae help me wi’ this seein’ as I only have one hand at the moment?” 

“Of course, darling,” she obliged. 

One of her hands reached out to grab it. Still keeping both arms around his neck, she somehow managed to tear open the package (much like a child would— she still hadn’t gotten that human task down) and then handed it back to him. 

It was beginning to get real to Jamie just how little personal space he would ever have again. 

And he loved it. 

“Thank ye, wee one,” he said before taking a bite. Curious fingers began to thread into his hair as he did, making it extremely hard to concentrate on the simple task of breakfast. Fingertips pressed delightfully into the nape of his neck and tangled into the soft curls there. 

His throat felt tight as she caressed him, making it hard for him to swallow. It wasn’t his fault that her every brazen touch turned him into a besotted sap… 

“Are ye going tae go through my whole mornin’ routine wi’ me?” he asked, shoving the last of the granola bar into his mouth, still rooted in the same spot by the pantry. 

Christ, this lass made it impossible for him to eat a meal slowly and in peace. Impatient thing. 

The fingers paused their exploration. “Most certainly.” 

“Well, we might as well have some fun wi’ it then. I ken ye dinna need it because ye dinna eat, but would ye care tae learn how tae brush yer teeth?” 

She drew back so she could look at him with eyes alight with curiosity. “What’s that?” 

“Ye’ll see.” 

*

Upstairs in the bathroom, Jamie somehow managed to detach his clingy faerie. She let go reluctantly, dangling her feet down and allowing Jamie to deposit her onto the ground. Once he was free, he stooped down to find a new toothbrush from the cabinet. Finding one from the dentist a few months ago, he let out an aha and held it triumphantly up to Claire. 

“And you use that on your teeth?” she asked warily. 

“Aye. It’s called a toothbrush. Watch.” 

Demonstrating with his own toothbrush, Jamie wet it before applying toothpaste and sticking it in his mouth. In what was likely a comical expression, he bared his teeth and exaggeratedly brushed the bristles over it. 

Claire was giving him a look of distaste and near horror that made his wame twitch with hilarity. 

He switched his brushing to go further back into his mouth, making her eyes go even wider. 

“Are you sure this is nothing like eating?” she asked, apparently still a bit traumatized from the incident with the spaghetti that first night.

“No,” Jamie laughed through the toothpaste in his mouth, “it jes’ cleans yer teeth after ye’ve eaten. Ye dinna actually swallow the toothbrush.” 

He rinsed and spit before straightening up to face a still dubious Claire. 

“Ready tae try, lass?” 

She wrinkled her nose a little but gave a nod. 

Jamie prepared her toothbrush for her. As he approached her, she eyed him with a wide eyed look of apprehension mixed with curious excitement. She opened her mouth tentatively like a nervous child at the dentist. 

He cupped his free hand around the back of her head, his thumb making soothing circles. Then, slowly, so as not to startle her, he placed the bristles onto her teeth. 

It was his expectation that she’d jerk away in disgust the moment it touched her, but she stayed still. He gently moved the bristles back and forth, very lightly over her front teeth, and she blinked rapidly and sucked a sharp breath in through her nose. 

“Alright, lass?” he asked with a smile as she froze underneath his hand. 

She gave a nod, and he continued, rubbing the toothbrush just over the front of her teeth. He felt it as she relaxed, the buzzing tension easing as she came to the realization that this was, in fact, not torture— nor anything like eating. 

She made a “huh” sound from deep in her throat, and Jamie withdrew the toothbrush so she could speak. 

“It feels… kind of nice,” she said slowly. 

“Aye. I ken ye dinna really need tae clean yer teeth since ye dinna eat to dirty them in the first place, but…” he eyed her with a gleam in his eye and a smirk, “if ye’re gonna be puttin’ that mouth on me all day long, ye might as well taste minty fresh.” 

To his great enjoyment, Claire flushed, looking at the same time like she felt embarrassed and also wanted to kiss him some more. 

“Here, lass,” he said, “wash yer mouth out.” 

He handed her a cup of water, and she mimicked what he had done earlier and rinsed.  

Once she was done, she straightened up and looked at him expectantly, as if there was some last step to be completed. 

“Now,” Jamie said, the corners of his mouth pulling up, “I’ll find out how ye taste, aye?”

***

Next

#noaprilfools #really it’s just a chapter #I had to check like 3 times that it really was chapter 19 #wow #all that was fair #update #claire x jamie #outlander fanfiction

[yandere-daze]

How about Yandere Giorno w/ fem s/o who’s a stand user like at first she planning to escape then she get caught and that’s when she start to fight back, like almost the same thing like koichi did with yukako XD (episode 9) but of course he win the fight. That’s what it came out of my mind 👉🏻👈🏻

Ooooh I like it!! Thank you for the request!! <3

This ended up being way longer than I intended lol

Cut for length!

Yandere! Giorno with a stand-user s/o that tries to escape

You were tired, so very tired. Your body felt as if it was going to give out at any moment now. You were barely able to pay attention to the young man that was standing in front of you, your mind fading in and out of consciousness. The situation you were currently in was dire and you were absolutely overwhelmed. The blond-haired man in front of you seemed to notice your stressed-out state because his brows slightly furrowed as his face showed clear concern for you as he softly grasped your right hand.

“Is something wrong caro/cara? You look unwell”, his voice carried a hint of worry as he raised your hand a bit further up while moving his head in the opposite direction, his mouth soon making contact with the skin of your hand as he placed gentle kisses on the back of it. You felt your insides squirm uncomfortably as he trailed his lips lower, peppering kisses all over it before coming to a stop at your ring finger. He then looked up to stare directly into your eyes, a look on his face one could only describe as love-struck, as he then leaned down once again to place a final kiss on the golden ring adorning your finger. Giorno, your captor, closed his eyes and let out a hum in contempt before slowly letting go of your hand once again, taking back his own hand that carried the same ring as yours. As you let your hand fall down to your side once again, it felt heavier than ever, the figurative weight of the ring almost pulling you down and on your knees. You felt a knot form in your stomach as the reality of what the ring really implied settled in once again.

“Are you feeling better now y/n? It´s not good to be this stressed out on the happiest day of your life”. After a second of silence he then added;

“OUR life. After today we will never be apart again, I promise you.”

Yes, you knew how true his statement was, after all Giorno wasn´t one to make empty promises, he was always serious about what he said.

Just a few months ago, a blond-haired stranger promised you he would do anything to ensure your safety. Now, you were in the possessive arms of your “fiancé”, almost getting crushed from the sheer force of his protectiveness. You spent most of your days in a luxurious golden cage that he liked to call your home. You were never alone here, even when Giorno had to leave because of his work. Even though he never directly told you, you knew that there were guards loyal to him, hiding in the shadows. And though you weren´t ever able to see them, you could always feel their gazes on you, silently watching you from a distance. To say it was unnerving was an understatement. And of course, you weren´t allowed to leave. Oh, how desperately you wanted to leave! Giorno had mercilessly ripped you from your previous life, from your friends and family and you wanted to go back to the people you loved so dearly. But there was no reasoning with Giorno, he insisted that he took you in to protect you and to care for you, that he would never wish any harm onto you. And that he loved you. Oh, how often he had repeated these three simple words.

“I love you.”, he had whispered before knocking you out at the front door of your home.

“I love you.”, he had said before forcefully stealing your first kiss from you.

“I love you.”, he had proclaimed before going down on one knee and proposing to you.

You had had no chance to refuse in any of these scenarios, only being able to stare at him in fear as you stood motionlessly. In all of these moments, all you wanted to do was disappear from his sight and flee, never going back to him. How you wished that he had never noticed you that one fateful day when you grabbed a scoop of ice cream from your favorite parlor. You yearned for your freedom and the outside world but he seemed intent to keep you locked up. And as the day of your supposed wedding had grown closer and closer, you too had grown more and more desperate to escape. And one day when Giorno was off to work again, something truly bizarre had happened to you.

As you were blankly staring into the bathroom mirror, tears running down your face as you contemplated your hopeless situation, you suddenly heard a high-pitched screech. Whipping your head around, you weren´t able to see the source of the noise until you heard light scratching noises from the left shelf. Carefully making your way over there, you wondered what could possibly be in there. After all it should be impossible for anyone to get in here! Standing in front of the shelf you were surprised to see what looked like…. a bat? Only it was bigger by a good amount and the fur on it´s belly was littered with little heart symbols. Okay so that was definitely not normal. What was going on here? You were tempted to take a step back but as soon as you slightly moved your feet the bat looked down and promptly fluttered it´s wings before taking flight and… oh god it was heading towards you! What were you supposed to do here?? But while you were wondering about what to do, the bat flew right at you and landed on your shoulder as it lightly started to nuzzle your face. It´s soft fur slightly tickling you, you were once again thrown for a loop as it´s shape started to rapidly shift. It´s wings stretched out and grew longer while it´s head also changed size. It had happened so fast that it took you a moment to realize that it seemed like the strange bat-like creature had wrapped itself around you like a sort of cloak. But your earlier surprise couldn´t possibly compare to the pure shock you felt when you looked back into the mirror to see…nothing. Absolutely nothing. You were able to see the wall behind you and the shelf but it was as if you had completely disappeared, as if you were…. completely………invisible. Invisible?! Was that true?! If that truly was the case then could you possibly use this to your advantage to finally escape this cage you were in and go back home? You couldn´t help your excitement at the prospect that you started to jump up and down only to notice that all of your jumping hadn´t caused any kind of sound to appear. Walking back and forth you noticed that all of your steps were completely muted. It was as if you were a ghost of some kind. Wanting to test out this new strange “ability” of yours further, you headed out of the bathroom, noticing the little sound the handle made as you pressed it down, the door opening with a little screech. Huh. So only your steps seemed to be silent, all other sounds still occurred as they normally should. That was good to know. As you ventured out further, you decided to leave your room and headed into the hallway. Looking around, you saw one of the many maids that worked here in the mansion sweeping the floor while whistling a cheery tune. It aggravated you how these people could just carry on with their normal life and pretend nothing was wrong when they all knew that you were trapped here without your consent. They knew how you suffered, how often you had sleepless nights as you cried into your pillow, the one they had to wash, and yet they seemed not to care at all. If you were honest though, deep down you knew that they weren´t the ones to blame. That damn Giorno was. He took you from your old life without any concerns and shook of your cries and complaints as if you were just being unreasonable and confused. Realistically speaking, the people working here probably didn´t have any other option, how were they supposed to defy the Don of the mafia? Deciding that there was no more time for such useless thoughts, you shook your head as you thought about what you were going to do now. Taking a gamble, you practically ran in the direction the maid was currently working in, feeling a rush of excitement as she didn´t even look up from her work as you soundlessly approached her rapidly. Coming to a stop in front of her, you waved your right hand in front of her face but she kept ignoring you. So, you truly were invisible? It´s not a dream? Right in this moment you could cry tears of joy. So there was still hope for you to escape this hell?! As you internally celebrated your small victory, you almost jumped in surprise when you suddenly saw Giorno walking through the hallway, seemingly wanting to visit you in your room. As you wondered why he had returned so early you scrambled to run back into your room, not wanting to see what might happen if he saw that you weren´t there. You didn´t want him to further restrict your freedom, then you would have no chance to get away, even with this invisibility-ability. As you came to a stop in “your” room, you then soon came to realize that you didn´t know if it was even possible for you to become visible again. And what if you weren´t able to become invisible again after this? Panic filled you but as you saw the door handle begin to move you felt a weight on your shoulders lift. The coat fell from your form, shrinking again and shifting form before turning back into the bat from before and then suddenly disappearing into thin ear. But you weren´t able to think over what happed just now as the blonde stepped into the room, a smile on his face. And as he led you somewhere else, deep in your mind the desire to escape started to take root. You knew it was possible and you had to do everything you could to plan your escape. You would use the following days to prepare for it.

Later, you found out with quick relief that you were indeed able to go invisible again, just simply wishing for it seemed to do the trick. And even when you were visible, the bat really seemed to like to being around you. The little animal spent most of it´s time hanging onto you, no matter if it was your shoulder, your back, your arm or even your head, quietly falling asleep on you in the process. You had to admit it was kind of cute and you were grateful for the company it offered, even if it wasn´t able to communicate with you. Well actually, that didn´t prove to be exactly right. You already knew bats used echolocation to coordinate and find things but it stuck you as especially particular when you found out that you were able to see abstract pictures in your head of what the bat was able to locate. You weren´t able to tell the difference between different people or anything of the sort but you could see moving, big objects in your head. You were confused as how this came to be but decided to just accept the fact that this was happening now and started to embrace this new ability. You decided to use this to your advantage in preparing your escape, sending out the little bat to scout out the mansion without having to actually leave your room and thus preventing any suspicions. As it turned out, no one except you was able to see the bat so you deemed it the safest method. Though you soon found out that you weren´t able to use the echolocation while you were invisible. You guessed that there just HAD to be some kind of restriction to your ability.

 You were startled from your thoughts of the past, back into the present day as your fiancé gently grasped your cheeks and rubbed them in what you assumed was supposed to be a comforting manner as he once again had a worried look on his face.

“Y/n are you really sure you are alright? Maybe you need to rest a bit? It wouldn´t do us any good for you to be unwell on the day of our wedding. Let me grab you a glass of water.”, Giorno said as he hesitantly let go of your face to presumably get you something to drink. Looking left and right you saw that you were completely alone now. Was this your chance? After all, after you two were married against your will you didn’t think you would have any time alone anymore. Also, you wanted to prevent a “wedding night” at any costs. Just thinking about it made you shudder in disgust, a chill going down your spine. While he might be looking forward to it; in fact, he TOLD YOU that he was; you wanted anything but that. So, deciding to set your plan in motion you called out to your bat-friend, which soon appeared and settle onto your shoulder. Nodding your head, it seemed to get what you were trying to say as it hopped of your shoulder and started to fly past you and down the hallway. You soon concentrated as the abstract images started to appear in your head as your mind processed the information it was getting sent. Due to the wedding preparations, everyone was in disarray and scurrying around the place, no one was at their usual position and with absolute glee you found that someone had left the door to the outside open in a hurry to probably carry out one of Giorno´s orders. Seeing that this was the perfect chance for you, you called back your bat and as it flew past the kitchen, detecting some kind of movement in there, you mentally already celebrated your freedom. You were so close to getting your old life back, you could hardly contain yourself. Holding out your arm for the animal to settle on, you saw the ring that still adorned your hand and settled your gaze onto it with a frown. It was a symbol of Giorno´s possessiveness, something you wouldn´t need anymore after this. It was a beautiful ring but you weren´t going to accept any of the gifts he had gotten you. You were your own person and didn´t need a reminder of the dark time spent with him. So, with one quick forceful tug, you pushed the ring off of your finger and let it fall to the ground.

Clingggg

The ring made a semi-loud sound as it hit the ground but at this point you couldn´t care anymore. You felt an immense sense of relief as you saw it there, feeling as if a huge weight had just been lifted from you. Looking down at your hand you saw that the ring was now replaced by your dear bat-friend that had flown to you in the meantime and settled onto your hand. Giving it another nod, you watched as it once again started to transform, it´s wings stretching out and slowly wrapping around you, as you started to grow invisible.

Thud thud thud

You heard fast footsteps approaching you, getting closer and closer as the sounds kept growing louder. But looking at your reflection in the gem of your engagement ring on the ground, you weren´t able to see yourself anymore. The process was already over. You had won. You were free.

Not wanting to waste anymore time, you sped up and ran towards the door you previously saw in your head. You the saw who the source of the footsteps was: Giorno. He held a glass of water in his hand, just as he had promised you but there was a sense of urgency in his steps as he approached your former location. Seeing him one last time, you couldn´t help but let a grin slip on you face as you sarcastically waved at him while mouthing “Bye bye!” at him. He obviously wasn´t able to see it as he mindlessly ran by his object of obsession, but right now you just wanted to be petty.

After having to endure his presence for so long and being locked up in this golden cage, you wanted to see his reaction when he realized you were gone. You wanted to see that smug and satisfied expression turn into one of panic as he couldn´t find you. So for a moment you stopped in your tracks to see the whole thing unfold.

His fast steps slowed down as he came to the place you conversed at before, only to see that you weren´t there.

“Tesoro? Where are you dear?”, he called out, his voice slightly wavering. He then proceeded to turn in every which direction, frantically scanning his surroundings with his eyes.

“Y/n? Y/n answer me! Where are you?!” Now he sounded truly panicked and you couldn´t help but be delighted in the sound of that. All this time, Giorno had never really been too emotional with you, being annoyingly calm all of the time, even when you screamed in his face or cried your eyes out. Sure, he looked a bit concerned but he always used to tell you that there was no reason to be upset. That you were being irrational, too emotional, unreasonable. That everything was fine. But seeing him look around frantically now? Well you didn´t deem yourself a sadist but it felt you with a sense of pure satisfaction.

CLASH!!

With a slight jolt, you noticed the now shattered glass on the ground, the water spilling out on the floor in a puddle. Giorno was now kneeling down, as he shakily reached down and pulled his hand through the shards of glass, seemingly not caring about the blood that was now staining his hand. His hand then came to a stop as he grabbed at something and picked it up. Seeing the familiar golden material in his hand, you recognized it to be your engagement ring. Upon seeing the object, Giorno´s whole body started to shake as he let out heavy breaths. From where you were standing it looked like he was about to lose it, no doubt in despair thanks to realizing that you had thrown away the ring that he had so graciously given to you. You felt no regret.

Then he started to turn around and you were expecting to see pain and anguish on his face but to your great surprise, all you could see was a deranged-looking smile and huge relief reflected in his eyes. Your eyes widened even more in both surprise and confusion as he then started to laugh out of nowhere. Was he really losing it now? Thinking that you had now seen everything you needed to see, you turned around again and started to run towards the door. You didn´t need to see him completely lose his mind now. You didn´t want to feel some strange kind of guilt in your stomach for seeing him in such a state. You realized how dangerous a feeling like that was so you wanted to get away as fast as you possibly could now.

“Y/n….oh y/n. I´m deeply hurt but also so glad you threw away the ring! Don´t worry I will be with you soon. You can´t hide from me!”, you didn´t know what he meant you felt that it promised no good so you picked up the pace.

“Gold Experience!”, you heard him shout behind you and asked yourself if he was really gone now. No matter, you would soon be gone.

Looking ahead once more, you saw that you were getting closer and closer to the door. Your ticket out of this hellhole of a cage you had to live in the past few months. Away from the controlling and possessive person that Giorno proved to be. You could finally be free again. You could go back to your old life, to your friends and family. All you had to do was walk through this door and-

You felt something pull your leg back as you promptly tripped and fell onto the floor. Your whole body ached and you rubbed your head as you looked down in confusion. You were trying to see what could have possibly caused you to trip like that. You felt your entire being grow stiff as you saw that a large snake had somehow wrapped itself around your ankle. You didn´t understand how this could have happened. Where the hell did that snake come from? And how was it able to see you? I mean it had to have seen you somehow, right? How else could it have found you?

Thud thud thud

You once again heard footsteps approaching you. This time the steps were thundering, almost frantic as you saw Giorno run towards you. This was bad. You had to somehow get this snake off of you and get away. But you didn´t really know a lot about snakes. Would it bite you if you were to move your leg now? It didn´t matter too much. You would gladly take that risk if it meant getting away from here. So you started to shake around your leg while trying to get the snake off of you, but to no avail. In fact, it only seemed to cling on tighter the more you moved around. It seemed insistent on not letting you run away.

When you saw Giorno come to a stop in front of you, you felt panic well up inside of you. He wasn´t able to see you, you reasoned with yourself. He would walk right past and once this snake stops being stubborn you could still get away. But Lady Luck seemed to have something against you today because Giorno slowly kneeled down so he was at your level. He reached out his arm almost hesitantly as he reached down to the spot where the snake had caught onto you. To your dismay, you felt his hand make contact with your leg, causing you to start trembling. No way. This wasn´t happening. Not when you had been so close to getting away. You tried to desperately shake your leg once again to possibly get rid of the snake but you felt Giorno´s grip on you tighten as you did so. Anxiously looking up in his face, you saw him sigh in relief, a smile on his face that quickly turned into a frown, disappointment now clearly visible.

“Tesoro”, he began with an edge to his voice, making you shake in fear. “I can´t believe you tried to run away from me. Why would you do that? Especially today.”

You just kept quiet, not feeling like giving him a response after everything that had just happened.

“Staying silent? Please that´s not going to help you now. I´m disappointed in you. I know you´ve been very…disagreeable in the beginning and I understand that it was a drastic change for you but I thought we had grown past that by now. You were so nice and sweet to me the last few days, was all of that just an act?!”, he raised his voice a bit at the last part. It was true, you had tried to be more docile and accepting of his advances the last few days to make him lower his guard.

“I don´t understand. Don´t I provide you with anything you could ever wish for? What more could you possibly need? Why would you try to run away and endanger yourself? You´re safe here with me, do you still not understand that? I love you so much y/n, I don´t know what I would do without you. What I felt when I saw that you were missing… I don´t think I have ever felt this sense of panic before.”, at this he tightened his grip once more as if afraid that you would disappear at any moment now. Trying to compose himself once more, Giorno took a deep breath before continuing.

“This invisbility- is it part of your stand? I didn´t know you had one.”

Now you were just confused.

“What´s a stand?”, you asked before being able to stop yourself. Shit, now he knew for certain that it was you. You really weren´t going to get away now.

“Yes, your stand. It seems to grant you invisibility. I too posses a stand and only thanks to that I managed to find you again. To think that you might have been truly gone. My heart aches at the mere thought of it.”

“But no more of that. I will think of an appropriate punishment later. Maybe giving you access to the garden was too tempting for you. For now, let us go back, alright? The wedding ceremony is starting soon and we wouldn´t want to be late for that now, would we?”

With that he took your hand and pulled you off the ground. As he slipped on the ring that you had previously thrown away you couldn´t help but notice something. As if fate wanted to mock you even more for your failed attempt to regain your freedom you made a quick observation.

 The ring you were wearing was now stained with the blood that spilled from Giorno´s hand.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

I hope you enjoyed this one! Probably the hardest part of this was coming up with an appropriate stand. My thought process while creating this stand was mostly like: If I was trying to escape a kidnapper, what kind of stand would I want? And I thought invisibility would be nice! I did think about a name but I didn´t think it would make sense for reader to know the name of the stand when they don´t even know what stand are to begin with.

Tho a name that was flying around in my mind was “Haunted House”! Because of the whole appearing and disappearing like ghost thingy lol

Anyway hope you liked this!

#request #my wriring #scenario #kurlykurls #jjba #jojos bizarre adventure #jojo golden wind #jojo part 5 #vento aureo #yandere jojo #yandere x reader #yandere male #giorno giovanna #giorno x reader #giorno giovanna x reader #yandere giorno #yandere giorno giovanna #yandere giorno x reader #yandere giorno giovanna x reader #yandere #tw yandere

[phantomchick]

Hello darling Phantom!! <3 It's been a while, I hope you are happy and healthy ^_^ If you're still up to that last ask game, for the DC fandom? Take care of yourself and have a lovely week <3 <3 <3

Oh wow hey het, it sure has and likewise <3

Thanks for the ask, because you chose one of the fandoms I'm most into, be excited for a detailed response! <3 Hope you have a great week as well.

Blorbo: Jason Todd my beloved

Scrunkly: Jason Todd again, because on every level except physical he is baby. But also Captain Atom because that is a whole traumatised lump of silver who just wants to be free and cheer up those around him. Supergirl because holy fuck she lost a whole planet when old enough to remember it and I have feelings about that that I want to explore, her poking out from under Superman's cape is an experience in cuteness only equalled by the robins doing it with Batman. Speaking of Batman, him too but like Batman from b:tas and legend of the dark knight not the gross mean one. Well written batman who needs to be protected from writers who think he's coolest when he's unkind and controlling, I mean the one who's just a shadow with pointy ears who shows up to help people, that guy. He's a scrunkly, must protect.

scrimblo bimblo: Lady Blackhawk because she has all the flavour of Steve Rogers being displaced in time to another era of superheroes (with the blackhawks being her version of the howling commandos) but none of the distraction from it, she's all of the sass and ten times the style. Also she's air force which is cooler (I don't make the rules it just is). I want to angst about her but there are no fics. Also her only run worth mentioning is birds of prey by gail simone and since flashpoint she like most of the older gen heroes has been scrubbed from existence as far as I can tell so that makes her even more worthy of the category. And Wildcat. I'm gonna put Black Orchid down too because I've never seen much with her in fandom despite Neil Gaiman's famous work on her title.

glup shitto: Dawnstar, Static Shock, Alan Scott

poor little meow meow: Jason Todd - I spend an unreasonable amount of time reading h/c fic with him so yes can confirm HE IS THE POOREST OF LITTLE MEOWS! Also he gets labelled as the violent dumbass of the robins who comes from crook stock and is now just a crook in a vigilante way, it's awful and I want to help him, in both a meta and textual way. But he murders people so I can't deny the fact he's a problematic fave. Batman being a pathetic fan favourite is basically canon but also he's here because he is being written as a domestic abuser a lot lately and that hurts as someone who wants to like the character. Fond distant memories of the times he's written as a likeable hero worthy of admiration. That time he adopted an alien starfish recently was neat. Captain Atom because again traumatised lump of silver just trying his best to exist but the man is keeping him down, he is like wolverine if wolverine was more pathetic and had no way out of the military who experimented on him enslaving him and also no support system. Free him. Problematic because he blew up bludhaven that one time. Still king though.

horse plinko: basically any character I fixate on is on the table here, I have needs and they involve my favourites being tormented and patched back together more whole than before

eeby deeby: Amanda Waller, Anton Arcane, Black Mask, and Joker are all going straight down the tube to eeby deeby long may they suffer, but like - with regards to Joker I wish he was a better written villain? Miss the days when he made sense, getting labelled batman's nemesis was the worst thing to ever happen to this character but I'm prepared to punish him with superhell for it anyway. And lastly Harley Quinn because she's annoying and being bi doesn't change that in fact it makes it worse that she's a redeemed anti hero now when she spent ages murdering people - being in a relationship with an eco terrorist doesn't make her or the eco terrorist less guilty of mass murder even if she has the excuse of an abusive relationship with the joker for some of it and actually I would like better representation instead of a flat redemption of zany clown girl. Like Poison Ivy grew plants out of random civilians intestines to make cool trees but is that retconned now? No? Redeeming a character takes an actual redemption arc not a relationship one and even if she had one she would still be annoying as a character and would still be guilty of the birds of prey movie being all about her when she was never a part of BoP. Superhell the moment she's done making out with Poison Ivy so we can have an accurate rendition of the supernatural scene. Also double pisses me off because it means batman now has no super evil female villains left, they've all been through villain decay and Selina wasn't a villain villain to start with. Bah humbug.

Alright I had a lot of fun doing that hope my answers were fun to read.

#ask game #I had so much fun doing this #thanks for the ask #dc fandom

[nose-bandaid]

a hug per dollar

hello! it's me, the platonic anon from before... may i request a non-romantic, changgu & gender-neutral reader, coffee/study date? and maybe you could work in a reassuring hug 🥺 thank you so much 💛

Yeo One (Changgu) x (gender neutral) Reader | Platonic fluff + comfort?! | 1.8k words

synopsis: overworking can sometimes be an easy, but terrible habit to fall into, but luckily, changgu is there to drag you out when you do.

a/n: lol i think i projected this to have 1.2k but it ended up with 1.8 but i am not complaining !!!! to my dear platonic anon, sorry this took so long ksdhfkdsj i hope you enjoy it !! i may or may not have done an uno reverse on stud.hui.o fanatic because now it is the reader who's overworking BAM 💛

=====

"Don't you think we've been here for long enough?"

Your hand stopped writing the flurry of notes and you looked at your friend, who peered back at you over his laptop. "Changgu, it's literally only been..."

You flipped your phone over to look at the time on its display and faltered when you realized just how late into the day it was. "I guess we have been here for a while."

"Which is exactly why I think we should—"

"But I'm not ready to leave yet!" You snapped back, immediately backing off when you realized how harsh your voice was.

"You didn't get much sleep last night, did you?" He pressed on and you buried your face back into the piles of work laid in front of you.

"We don't talk about that either."

He let you be and the two of you went back to working in silence for the next while until Changgu eventually got up from his seat. Your eyes followed him as he stretched and let out a sigh. "I'm gonna go to the bathroom."

"Okay." You replied, and returned to your work.

=====

Not long after, a juice box slid into your view and you looked up at Changgu who returned after his bathroom break that took much longer than a usual bathroom break would've taken. You quirked an eyebrow in his direction.

"You got juice from the bathroom?"

He laughed and you took note of the other juice box in his hand — the exact same flavour as yours. "Of course I did. They added vending machines in the bathroom recently, didn't you know that?"

You decided to play along. "Is that so? No, I didn't know that. But do enlighten me as to why you would ever trust a vending machine located in the bathroom."

He laughed at your small jest. "Nah, I just went on an adventure to grab us some fuel." He dropped back into his seat and let out a relieved hum as he stared at his laptop. "After finishing that stupid essay I think I deserved the treat."

"You know, if you're done working you can always head back first. I'm fine on my own."

He shook his head adamantly at your offer. "This is our study session, you know? It's a we thing," he emphasized that with a point to the table. "So I'm not leaving until you're also done."

You sent him a small smile in appreciation and returned to your textbook, taking a small sip from the juice box as you did. It was refreshing and in the back of your mind, you wondered how he knew this was your favourite flavour. You didn't recall ever telling him.

"Though I think you've done more than enough work for today."

You didn't miss the next thing he muttered quietly.

"Look, Changgu, I'll just finish this chapter and we can call it today, okay?" You desperately held up a finger to assist in your pleading.

"One chapter and one chapter only." He reluctantly gave in, deciding to get a head start on another assignment in the meanwhile. Once again, you settled back into a comfortable silence, listening to the distant voices of others in the library.

You ended up finishing that chapter quicker than you initially thought you would and it flared up a new flame of determination within you. You could cram in a few more chapters then, right? You'll get them done in no time, especially with the flow you had now.

Agreeing with yourself, you got started right away.

You're pretty sure Changgu noticed when you flipped the page again.

And again.

And again.

Surely he's noticed the way you're slouched over a bit more now, the way your eyes were drooping and your gaze became unfocused. The way you've hardly touched the bag of snacks since he opened it. But you kept on going. Your determination knew no limits and you kept on going despite all the rational part of you that screamed at you to stop.

...Now, where did you leave off before you started daydreaming?

Right, at the end of this paragraph. You returned to staring at the mundane words in the textbook. You swore you were almost finished with this page but you also told yourself that what felt like hours ago. No matter how many times you read the same sentence over and over again, the words never seemed to stick in your mind. Your hand couldn't figure out what to write and what to leave out. All of it seemed important and you cursed the way your next exam weighed so much and yet gave you such vague preparation instructions. If only you had started studying earlier... but wasn't one week enough? Maybe you just weren't fit for this? Probably, because —

Changgu placed his hand onto yours. He gently pulled the pen out of your grasp and gestured for you to look at him.

"Let's take a break, you have no say in it. Seeing you like this makes me exhausted, I can't take this anymore."

No matter how many times you've drilled into your mind that it was absolutely not okay to take a break, the moment you heard the words from someone else, your composure crumbled.

You let out a deep sigh and let your weight rest on the table. "Yeah let's."

Changgu helped you pack your work away after cleaning up his own and waited until you were fully ready. When you slid the chair back to its former home, he held out a hand for you to take and you happily took a place by his side.

"Are you going to take me on another adventure?" You playfully asked, already feeling a little better now that your work was tucked away.

He shrugged. "Honestly, I had no clue where I was going to take you 'cause I didn't think you'd actually stop studying. But sure! Let's make this an adventure."

Stepping outside, you realized how much nicer it was to have a change of scenery. It was already late afternoon, the sun shining brightly above, engulfing you in a pleasant kind of warmth.

You sighed inwardly, this would've been more relaxing if your mind would just stop drifting back to all the work you still to be done. Hadn't you done enough? You worked so hard for the past who-knows-how-many-hours and yet it only left you unsatisfied and even more stressed.

Maybe it just wasn't enough.

A gentle bop on your head brought you out of your thoughts and you stared at Changgu, his hand still raised from bonking your bad thoughts away.

"Stop thinking so much." He crossed his arms and looked at you pointedly.

"Huh?"

Squinting his eyes, his face leaned into yours, getting closer and closer, and you found yourself edging away from the intrusion. Just as quickly as it started, he suddenly disappeared, straightening his back again and letting out a huff.

"Just as I thought."

"What?" You asked again, still lost.

"You're thinking bad things about yourself again! Stop that."

"How did you know?"

He playfully punched your shoulder at that. "I'm your best friend, you think I wouldn't notice these things? You always have this expression on your face when you're beating yourself up. Looks kinda stupid."

Your mouth gaped at his remark. "Hey!'

"I'm kidding, you never look stupid," he smiled and continued. "But what is stupid is you thinking that you're not good enough because you can't keep up with everything that's going on. Can you really blame yourself if some uncontrollable force decided to dump an unreasonable amount of work on you all at once? You're doing your best, which is one, really paying off because I swear you've covered like a billion chapters today. And two, is extremely cool — I heard the group studying behind us gush about how hard you were working and guess what?"

"...What?" You asked hesitantly, still trying to recover from your friend's spiel.

Changgu grabbed your shoulders to keep your attention. "I also think you're really really cool!!" He announced loudly, capturing the attention of a mother and her daughter nearby. They walked away after the initial surprise.

Your lip trembled, not even having it within you to be embarrassed by his public confession. Instead, you were overwhelmed by his kindness. "Changgu..."

He pulled you into a hug and you basked in his presence. The faint smell of fresh laundry lingered on his hoodie and you melted into his comfort. "You're doing great, and you'd be doing even better if you let yourself breathe for a moment. As overwhelming as it may feel, the only thing that's going to bring you down is yourself if you keep on going at this rate — not your work." He gently scolded before he pulled away and cupped your face, eyes boring into yours.

"Got that?"

You nodded hesitantly. "Yes."

"I don't know... that wasn't really convincing..."

You laughed lightly and pushed his hands away from you. "I got it, I got it, Changu. Thank you so much." You found yourself much more relaxed after your talk. "From studying with me to buying me snacks and comforting me... aargh, I appreciate it."

Changgu simply gave you a bright smile. "Anything for you."

That was all he said, but those 3 words were enough to express just how much you meant to each other.

"Besides, I don't think of it as a chore, any time spent with you is great."

You pouted. "You're too good for me, seriously. How can I make it up to you?"

In all honesty, you expected him to dismiss the question, but instead, Changgu's eyes wandered off as he placed a finger on his chin. "Well, I did notice that my favourite drink is on sale when I passed by that cafe on the way here..."

You sent him an amused look. "The juice wasn't enough?"

"Are you telling me to pass on a sale that takes a whole dollar off?"

Once again, you found yourself playing along with his act and your eyes widened. "Oh geez, you're right, we can't miss out on that." Pushing Changgu from behind, you ushered him forward. "Let's get moving! We spent so much time in the library the shop's going to close by the time we get there."

Changgu chuckled as you caught up and fell into step with his movements. "I'm glad to see that you're back to normal."

"And I'm glad we get to save a buck on overpriced drinks. Thanks for everything, Changgu." You swiftly replied and he sent a smile your way.

"Anytime."

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