#And Taylor is discussed above | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

inurnctdreams · 6 months ago

Text

dress - m.l

idol!mark x idol fem!reader

genre: fluff, suggestive, established relationship, one shot, song fic (maybe?? i wouldn’t class it as one but there are references to lyrics and the song inspired the fic so??)

warnings: swearing, very suggestive (grinding, making out, over the clothes stuff but no explicit sex), alcohol, mentions of being tipsy/drunk (mark and reader have been drinking but everything is consensual), pet names (baby, babe, pretty girl, mine/yours, dude (affectionate)), mdni

wc: 3.1k

notes: this entire thing stemmed from this gifset that gave me mark brainrot and made me think of the song dress by taylor swift

you’re pretty sure you’re supposed to be paying attention to the conversation happening in front of you right now. one of the executives for mbc… or was it kbs? whoever it was, they were important in the industry and they were talking at you and your group mates about your latest comeback stage… or maybe next year’s end of year concert that was already in the planning stages? you’d kind of stopped listening about five minutes ago. and it wasn’t your fault, really. you took your career seriously and wouldn’t dream of disrespecting anyone who was showing interest in your group by ignoring them usually, but you’d heard zhong chenle’s signature dolphin laugh across the room and that had been it. he’s here.

it would obviously be absolutely, outrageously scandalous for you to take off mid conversation, make a beeline for the group that had walked in and greet him like you want to. you have some modicum of self control and societal responsibility. and it isn’t a surprise, you knew he’d be here, you’d even gotten updates via text with a rough estimate of when he’d walk in. but you haven’t seen him in person in over three weeks and you’ve been looking forward to this night since the last time he’d kissed you goodbye at your door before sneaking back out of your dorm building to his car. 3am on a tuesday morning had turned out to be the only time the both of you were in the same city and without obligations in months. comebacks, tours, interviews. both of your lives were so hectic, it was difficult enough to get a moment to yourself to breathe, let alone together. now he’s here, in the same room as you, and you can’t do anything about it. the anticipation is killing you.

it hadn’t stopped you from pausing mid sentence when you’d registered his presence, though. disguising it with a cough and a modest apology, you’d finished your words and promptly stopped contributing to the conversation. smiling politely with your best poker face on as you tuned out of whatever was being discussed further and listened out across the room for any sign of him. chenle’s laugh is infectious, so donghyuck’s high pitched giggles soon joined in, audible above the rumble of laughter that had erupted from that corner of the room. but that was it. once the joke had worn off, the usual sounds of casual conversation replaced it, no doubt one of the older members’ doing as they reminded them of their surroundings. the first hour or so of award show after parties tend to be just the thing you’re ignoring: prominent figures in the industry congratulating and backhandedly complimenting idols whilst trying to promote something or take advantage of rookies with less media training by getting them to reveal secrets or agree to things.

once they’ve either gotten what they wanted or given up trying, they make their way out and the real party starts. realising you’re going to get nothing from the indiscernible voices in their direction, you start to work out how long you’ve been here, and how long you have to wait before it won’t be suspicious of you to drag your group over there to greet them. unfortunately, you’re interrupted midway through your mental calculations by something digging into your side. it’s gone before you even register the touch, light and inconspicuous. you glance down momentarily before meeting the eyes of your group mate, amusement dancing in her eyes.

“sorry, i didn’t quite catch that last bit.” your years of experience in the spotlight and exceptional training kick in immediately. you turn back to the middle-aged man in front of you with a practised innocent smile. “what were you saying?”

you smile graciously at the waitress as she hands you a flute of expensive champagne off of the shiny silver tray in her hand. taking a small sip, you school your face into a neutral expression to hide the wince at the acidic taste. you’ve never been much of a fan of the stuff, but it’s always handed out at events so you’ve gotten somewhat used to it in the years you’ve been legally allowed to drink at them. this is your second glass, and yet again you find yourself longing for the boring portion of the night to be over so the alcohol can start flowing more freely. you meet the eyes of your group mate and share a look, she hates champagne too. giggling to yourselves, you almost don’t notice the group of twenty-something boys heading in your direction, led by taeyong.

you’re immediately at full attention, straightening up from the pillar you’d been leaning against and placing your half full champagne flute on the nearest surface as you grin at your friends approaching. it’s almost comical, how the amount of people surrounding you in that moment feels like you’re looking for him in a crowd rather than just among his own group members. but then yuta moves to say hi to your group mate and there he is. god, he looks heavenly. the all black ensemble complimented by silver jewellery, his artfully tousled hair, the hint of gloss that have his lips looking so shiny and kissable it’s taking all of your entire being not to ravish him right here and now in the middle of this crowded room. not that he needs any of it to start up the roaring of butterflies in your stomach or trigger the giddy high you’re feeling. no, mark lee makes you feel like this every time he looks at you. barefaced, old t-shirt and glasses on with a hint of stubble starting to grow in as you sit next to him in the studio. bleary eyed, half asleep and hair sticking up as your phone alarm goes off on his bedside table. hoodie, snapback and face mask hiding most of his face as he slips into your practise room and catches your gaze in the mirror.

“y/n.” and everything just stops. the rest of the room falls away, the roar of conversation as your groups say hi is silenced, all you can see, hear, feel is him. the way he looks you up and down appreciatively that still makes your heart flutter despite it happening every time he sees you. he just has this way of making you feel like you’re the only one his attention would ever be captured by.

“hi, mark.” there’s a smile on your face, and you’re trying to make it your usual polite idol, public appearance smile, but really you have no control and you can feel the corners of your mouth turning up further against your will. you think that if you looked, his would be similar, probably that mischievous half-smirk he does that makes his dimple appear. and you love his dimple, but you’re currently captivated by the lovestruck look in his eyes. in that moment, you’re thankful you’d put your glass down because you would’ve dropped it. your hands shake as you force yourself to hold back from him. your groups are publicly very good friends, having known each other as trainees and debuting within a year of each other. you and mark have been best friends for years, and that’s all it was until the mutual pining hit its peak. there was something so beautiful about being in love with your best friend, with someone who understood how demanding your career was and already knew everything about you and who was still your best friend alongside being your boyfriend. around you, the rest of nct are giving your group mates half-hugs or shoulder nudges, but you don’t move to touch him, knowing you won’t let go if you initiate physical contact.

“y/n!” johnny rips you from your bubble. you have no idea how long you and mark were stood there, staring into each other’s eyes with that look on your faces, but it must’ve been long enough if someone’s intervened. the older idol pulls you into a short hug, but not before leaning down to murmur in your ear. “we know you guys are like, sickeningly in love, but would it kill you to not make it super obvious while there’s still cameras everywhere?”

oops.

“mark!” you whisper. or at least you hope you do, you’re pretty tipsy by this point in the evening. he just laughs, equally inebriated, and continues pulling you down the empty corridor, fingers intertwined. on a scale of zero to having your relationship exposed by dispatch come morning, sneaking off together a mere forty minutes after the industry execs had left the party is probably a solid deniable accusation. not exactly a great idea, but if anyone found out it wouldn’t be the end of the world, just carefully curated excuses in a statement and an earful from management. the first couple of doors he tries are locked, but third time seems to be the charm as you’re pulled into a room and plunged into darkness when the door clicks shut behind you.

“c’mere baby.” and you let go. all the pressure from being around so many people that could ruin your careers with one article, all the stolen glances across the room, all the secret smiles you share, all the patience that had been slowly wearing thin the longer you were in his proximity but not being able to do anything about it. it’s been been building all evening, and the dam finally breaks.

you practically throw yourself into his arms, winding your own around his neck as his wrap around your middle. he holds you to him so tight it hurts a little, but you’re probably slightly choking him with how strong your own grip is. the initial ‘holy shit you’re here and i can touch you without everyone looking’ moment passes and you both relax slightly. he still holds you close but it’s more grounding and comforting than anything. you bury your face into his neck and just let yourself breathe him in. his scent, the underlying notes of mark and home underneath the fancy cologne. the steady, comforting beat of his pulse against you. his arms are your safe place and being held by him makes everything better, even if just a little. you can’t count the number of times you’ve been exhausted or stressed or upset or scared or angry and all he’s had to do is pull you into him. you’ve cried on him, ranted into his chest and listened to him murmur words of encouragement and reassurance and love into your ear. there’s no other place you’d ever want to be. and even when you couldn’t physically be with him, he’s been there on facetime, or phone call, or over text. you’ve done the same for him without hesitation more times than you can imagine. he’s your person, your best friend, your soulmate, your everything, your one and only, your lifeline. you feel him press firm kisses into your hair and smile against his throat, snuggling into him happily.

“missed you.” you mumble. the alcohol in your system is amplifying the giddy feeling that’s thrumming through your entire being. all semblance of public image and self-control come crumbling down in front of him like always until all that’s left is the unguarded, most raw versions of yourselves laid bare for each other. he squeezes your hips and pulls back a little to look you in the eyes. you’ve adjusted to the darkness enough to make out his facial features and that same unfiltered, pure love is staring back at you from earlier but now he’s unabashedly grinning at you and his cheeks are flushed with happiness (and alcohol). his dimple is out in full force as he giggles right back at you. this is your mark, the one reserved for you and you only.

“fuck, you’re so perfect.” he whispers. “wish we could stay in here forever, just us.”

“i know.” you bite your lip, and his eyes zero in on your mouth. “wait, where even are we?”

“i don’t care.” and just as quickly as the wholesome, lovesick feeling had flooded you, the arousal and want flares up, threatening to consume you the second he grabs your face and claims your lips in a kiss that’s anything but gentle. he walks you both backwards until you’re pressed up against the door, gripping the sides of his jacket both for stability and to satiate the overwhelming need to get your hands on him. you whine against his lips as one of his hands slips into your hair and pulls gently, letting your hands roam under his jacket all over his waist and up his chest until they’re holding his shoulders. you use the leverage to push yourself up onto your tiptoes to match his heated, open-mouth kisses with the same carnal energy. he groans, the sound making you shiver and adding to the warmth pooling in your abdomen. the hand that’s not in your hair drops down to slide around you and grab your hip, pulling you even closer so you’re flush against his body. the need for oxygen is beginning to grow, but you’re addicted to the floaty, lightheaded feeling that comes along with it. it soon becomes too much, though, the both of you breathing heavily as you break away for air, but he wastes no time in leaving a trail of kisses down your jaw and neck, each one hotter and more filthy than the last.

“mark.” you whimper, turning your head to the side to grant him more access to your throat. he nips at your pulse point softly, careful not to leave a visible mark, but it makes you gasp and arch into him further all the same.

“my pretty girl.” he pants against your skin. “all mine.”

“mm-hmm.” you agree. “yours.” and you are, fully and irrevocably his in every sense of the word. you thread your own hands into his hair and pull his face back up to kiss him again. you could spend forever kissing him and never be satisfied, never get bored. it doesn’t matter than you know him better than you know yourself, or that you’ve spent hours in this exact same position with him already. there seems to be this endless need inside you for mark lee that started when you met him. you were kids back then, but you always craved his presence, his attention. over the years it’s developed, but the need for him has never wavered, even after he became yours.

“been thinking about this all night, you look incredible.” he confesses between kisses, both hands dropping from around you to wander under your dress and start caressing your thighs. his touch is electrifying, leaving trails of fire in his wake as he slides his hands up to grab your ass and squeeze it. the subsequent jolt of excitement has you whimpering against him and his grip moves to the crease where your ass and thighs meet. he kneads the soft flesh there sensually before squeezing again, and that’s all the warning you get before he lifts you up and presses you back against the door in one fluid motion without even breaking the kiss. you’re quick to wrap your legs around his waist, ankles crossing against his back. not that you think he’ll drop you, it’s never happened before, you just use the leverage to pull him in until you’re happily trapped between the cold, hard surface of the door and your boyfriend’s warm, inviting body. you both groan as his hips roll into yours. whether it was a result of you pulling him in or an intentional movement on his part is unknown, but the way he bites your lip and grinds his crotch into yours again is definitely not an accident. with you now supporting yourself, he’s free to bring one hand up to your chest, groping at your tits through your dress. his hips haven’t stopped moving, and you can feel the way he’s quickly hardening against your underwear. whilst the sensation is incredible, it snaps you out of the trance you’ve been in.

“babe.” you moan. “mark, baby, we can’t.”

“you mean we shouldn’t.” he smirks.

“no, i mean someone is going to notice we’re gone soon, if they haven’t already, and come looking for us.” you counter. he stops moving and looks up at you, the fog of arousal starting to clear from his expression. he sighs exasperatedly, knowing you’re right.

“fine.” he lowers you back to your feet. you know you both probably no longer resemble the perfect idol look your stylists and hair and makeup artists crafted before you decided to sneak off for a tipsy make out session in one of the back rooms, so you feel around for a light switch. your eyes squeeze shut as the room is flooded with light, blinking a couple times to readjust your vision. a giggle escapes you as you take in how adorably disheveled mark looks, hair tousled, collar rumpled and the pink hue of your lipstick smudged around his lips. although, you’re sure you look pretty similar.

you spend a couple minutes making yourselves look presentable again before you rejoin the party. “i should probably go first, give you a couple of extra minutes to calm down.” you tease, eyeing the tent in his pants.

“i bet if i checked, you’d still be soaking wet for me.” he retorts, eyes darkening slightly, sending a flush of heat straight to your core. he’s not lying. you take a deep breath to compose yourself before opening the door and stepping out into the corridor. you turn back to your boyfriend.

“behave.”

“the rest of this party’s gonna be torture, having to watch you go around looking like that.” he looks you up and down appreciatively again, though this time it’s a lot less innocent. you’re so glad that your schedules have calmed down enough to allow you more time together for the next month or so, the last couple months without being able to see him properly have been rough.

“well you can show me how much you like it when we get back to yours, later.”

“i plan to.”

“good. ‘cause i only bought this dress so you could take it off.” you smirk as the door shuts behind you.

“not helping, dude!” his voice is muffled as you begin walking back towards the party, giggling to yourself as you go. “i hate you!”

“no you don’t!”

#nct x reader #nct dream x reader #nct 127 x reader #mark x reader #mark lee x reader #nct scenarios #kpop scenarios #nct imagines #nct fluff #nct fanfic #kpop x reader #kpop imagines

687 notes · View notes

ophelieverse · 8 months ago

Note

Oppy my baby,can you please please please take in consideration to write something about my man Cregan Stark?🥺🥺

⊹˚₊only you could have called me back home

Cregan Stark x fem!reader

-Summary:reader is from house Manderly and she meets Cregan when they are kids,during his stay at her house she reads him a book about mermaids to help him sleep during a storm.Years later he does the same thing for their children.

-I finally gave in and decided to try.This is the first time that I write for Cregan,even though i love him very much and i can’t wait to see him(I pictured in my mind Tom Taylor)so forgive me if this sucks.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It was night,late evening.

The sky,which was usually a dark blue,was covered by a thick blanket of gray clouds that made the stars and that moon disappear,which were supposed to illuminate New Castle of White Harbor.The blue blazon with the green merman holding a trident,symbolizing House Manderly,was dancing in the wind.

A little girl,who seemed to be not older than eight years old,was observing the world and that summer storm,one of many she had seen in just a month.Sitting in her chamber,on the carpet in front of the window that brought into that small balcony,curled up and with her arms hugging her legs,she let her eyes get lost in counting the thousands of droplets that rested on that sheet of glass.

She began to stare at a drop of rain,trying to see it flow along the entire length of the window.But this one soon disappeared,bursting into smaller droplets or joining others.

For Lady Y/n Manderly,the rain made everything so fascinating.

She came closer to the glass,almost squashing her face against the door-windows and waiting for a thunder to arrive.She had never been afraid of thunderstorms,quite the contrary.She found them fascinating.She still couldn't conceive that all that noise and lights came from nature and not from something created by men.

Watching a thunderstorm was more interesting than reading a book.Her mother used to read her dozen of them to help her sleep at night,especially during storms like this one.But at the end,the books in their library all looked alike and never change final.If she didn't want to read them anymore she could just close them.While thunderstorms are unexpected and uncontrollable.But above all,always different.

People can never predict the duration or intensity of a thunderstorm.You can just try to guess or stay and observe it.And Y/n loved to see thunderstorms.

But that wasn't the case for everyone.

The little girl knew for sure that there was someone who instead hated them and had a big fear of them.A young boy,just of two years older than she was,the son of the protector of the North,had revealed that he was very afraid of storms during one.

Lord Rickon Stark had arrived to White Harbor four nights before,just in time for dinner,to discuss with Lord Desmond Manderly,Y/n father,about the union of their houses.A calm but still noisy storm was what welcomed them,alongside the blue and green blazon of New Castle.

Y/n didn't understand what was scary about those lights and noises,but she couldn't help but think about what the boy was feeling at the time.

That boy who was also her husband to be once they would be old enough to marry.They already knew each other,they had met in different occasions and places,yet they had never forged a particular bond or friendship.

Their characters were particularly different and they both knew that they would find themselves colliding easily if they became friends.Moreover, there had never been a particular opportunity to get to know each other better.They were always surrounded by their families,politicians and maidens.

They were simply two children,two heirs of big and powerful houses and one day they will become husband and wife.Nothing more,nothing less.

And yet,at that moment Y/n was just thinking.She was just thinking about Cregan.That was his name and what he had told her to call him when she had addressed him as “Lord Stark” with a polite bow.

Y/n wondered if he wasn't scared.

She remembered once,when there was a tournament in Lannisport,he didn’t showed up to see the horses in the morning when it started to rain.Once again,during a visit a the Wall he had been more restless than usual when he had heard the sound of the thunders.

But didn't the dark sky of the evening emphasize the whole thing even more?

Y/n loved night thunderstorms,she found them even more impressive.But also scary.Especially now that her mother was heavily pregnant and needed to stay in bed to rest,meaning that she couldn’t read her stories to help her sleep better.

In Y/n that fear gave a sudden adrenaline rush,but in Cregan no,she could have said it with certainty.So,after thinking about it for too long,the little girl got up,took the cloak on the chair and without even thinking anymore,she opened the window-door wide and within seconds she found herself on the balcony,while the rain was beginning to increase slowly.

That wing of the castle was where both Y/n and her brothers chambers were,the same place where young Cregan was staying,in the room right next to hers.

Y/n stayed for a while to observe the sky,and the drops of rainwater falling on the palm of her hand that she had turned upwards,fascinated by everything as a child could be.But she hadn't gone out to the balcony to admire all that,no.

If she had only wanted to do that,she would have been content to sit in front of the front door-windows as she had until then,instead of getting wet.

No,Y/n had gone out to check on Cregan.To make sure that he was alright.

Their balconies were connected,divided only by a low wall of light bricks.She had often seen the young boy on that balcony in those days,watching people occupying those crowded streets or just wanting to breathe some air.

And on those occasions they had just waved to each other politely with kind smiles.

Y/n knew that the window on that balcony led to the room where Cregan was staying.

Still in the rain,half protected by the windowsill of the upper floor,she barely reached out her neck to observe the young boy room.But it was dark and the curtains were pulled,a sign that Cregan was probably already sleeping,as he would on any night.

The little Lady wanted to call herself a fool for coming out of her room just to make sure that he was okay,a boy whose she exchanged a few words and nothing else.The same boy that one day would have been her husband but the she didn’t knew nothing about.

Yet,in some way,she was relieved.Relieved that he was not awake yet and afraid of those thunders.

A part of Y/n wanted to go back into her room and go back admiring that storm from behind the glass plate of the window,but first she got closer to the wall that separated her from her neighbor.

To,she said to herself,just to check more closely.Just to make sure.

But check what exactly?

Y/n shook her head.She really had to be out of her mind if now she was worried about an almost - stranger that seemed to not like her at all.She made to retrace her steps,when a curled figure caught her attention.

Sitting on the ground,with his shoulders leaning against the wall of that balcony and with a black cloak on him,he stood with his head hidden by the hood.Still like a statue,with his arms around his legs.Half of his body was protected under the windowsill,while the other half was being wet by that rainwater.

Y/n tilted her head to the side,confused.

“Who is that?And what are they doing?”she wondered.

Even though she knew very well who it was.It couldn't be anyone other than him.

«Cregan?»Y/n spoke without having the slightest control over her voice,attracting the attention of the boy.

Cregan raised his head,which he had kept sunk between his legs until that moment,turning his head then towards the young lady on the other side of the wall.His eyes were usually clear and calm,but now they were wide open with astonishment.

Wide in a way that Y/n couldn't but find adorable.

She ignored these thoughts and just reopened her mouth«What are you doing out here?Don't you see .. ?It's raining.»she asked with a soft tone.

“As if i hadn't noticed,Y/n”Cregan wanted to tell her with a little voice.He wouldn't have put on his cloak if he hadn't seen the rain.

But a part of him decided to keep his mouth closed.Lady Y/n was immensely pretty under the pale moonlight and wet by the rain.He had always been fascinated by her,by the way her eyes shined bright and the way she talked fast about something she liked and knew about.She made him nervous to speak whenever he was around her,she was far smarter and wiser than him even at that young age,always so kind and he was afraid to make a fool out of himself.Especially when he was still scared of thunderstorms.

Cregan didn't answer,just staring at her with his big blue eyes.

«Are you hurt?»Y/n brown furrow as she scanned his pale face to find something.

The rain kept falling and it seemed that its intensity continued to increase as the seconds passed.The trees in front of that castle moved to the right and left,driven by a force they already knew,but which they were still unable to repel.

Cregan shook his head and then spoke«I'm scared of thunderstorms.»he just said.

Y/n nodded«I know that.But why are you outside?»she offered him a kind smile.

Cregan seemed to think about it for a while, undecided whether to say everything to her or keep shut up.But there was something in her,something that was pulling in from the inside.Something that was screaming at him to tell her everything that he was afraid of,because with her it would be safe,she would have kept him safe.She would’ve understood him and comforted him.

He chose the second option and returned to stare at an indefinite point of his cloak,hoping that the young lady with wet hair and sweet eyes would soon leave,leaving him alone.As he had only been until recently.

One day Cregan would have been Lord Stark,protector of the great North and he needed to learn to not be afraid of thunderstorms on his own.But Y/n presence,the little girl that would become his wife,was louder than any thunder and brighter than any light.

In fact she had no intention of leaving.

«I'm scared of thunderstorms.»he found himself repeating and then adding«I really can't stand them.»he murmured.

She listened to him carefully,standing in front of that little wall,while Cregan continued to turn his back on her and look down as he spoke again:

«I can't sleep when there are thunderstorms.And being alone in the room,in the dark with only sudden flashes to illuminate,is scary.»he explained quietly.

Y/n nodded sympathetically,although she didn't find anything scary at all in his description.But for once she tried to put herself on Cregan side.

«So why don't you go to your father?My mother always makes me sleep with her when I have nightmares.»she asked with curiosity.

Cregan shook his head,clutching in that heavy cloak«He doesn’t want to.He say I have to overcome my fears sooner or later.»he said,with a glint of sadness in his eyes.

Y/n curled her nose,confused«And do you get over them by standing in the rain?»squeezing her hands to create a little bit of warmth.

This time he took some time to respond.

Then,shifting his gaze towards the horizon«It's less scary.I can see the lights of the villages and the boats passing by and I know I'm not the only one awake.I know I'm not alone.»he found himself admitting«It's less scary.Or at least I think…»

He didn't know why he was saying these things.Especially to her.For all his ten almost eleven years he had carried that fear of his with him without saying anything to anyone.Revealing his fear only to himself.And seeking comfort only in him.

A comfort that most of the time was not enough.

His father kept telling him that he was grown up by now,that he had to overcome his fear of thunderstorms by now.A fear that was too childish for his age.For the Lord he was destined to be.How could he protect people when he was the first to be scared?He needed to start acting like a man.

But how adult can a ten year old be?

Without meditating on his words,Y/n replied«And are you going to stay out here all night?Until the thunderstorm stops?»her angel face was worried.

Cregan just nodded,without staring at her directly in the eyes.The little girl made a grimace that the other could not see.It was the stupidest thing she had ever heard.Yet she still didn't find the strength to leave him alone.Leave him there alone and go back to her room.

Y/n had felt,she had felt for a few seconds,almost a perceptible thread that drew her to Cregan.Maybe she was just imagining everything. Maybe it was just her childish mind that was playing tricks on her.Or maybe it was just that summer storm fault.

She didn't know,but now she felt tied to the boy with the dark cloak and blue eyes.

«Come.»Y/n voice was firm and warm.

Cregan jolted,surprised to still hear the young girl voice.He thought she had returned to the heat of her room by now.And instead there she is,on the other side of the low wall,reaching out to him with a pure smile on her face.

“She’s cute when she smiles.”Cregan immediately thought,noticing her soft eyes and all her teeth shining in the light of the torches in the street.

He also found her so reassuring.That kind of safety that he desperately needed.

«Where?»he asked confused.

Y/n smiled at him again,getting closer and reaching out her hand again,almost touching his face making him shiver.

«If you spend the night out here you're going to get sick.If you don't want to be alone,I'll keep you company.»she stated fiercely and he knew nothing would’ve changed her mind.

They were simple words.Words of a child of eight,almost nine,years old.Yet Cregan swore he had never heard such beautiful words.No one had ever given him such attention and didn't know whether or not to trust that young lady.

They had met numerous times and now they were even betrothed to each other,but they weren’t exactly friends.

And Cregan was very skeptical to those he knew very little.Especially the ones that made him feel nervous just by looking at him.

He decided to refuse Y/n invitation.

But when he made to decline the offer,the first of many flashes lit up the sky,followed by a noise so loud that raised Cregan hair,or more commonly called thunder.

The boy snapped to his feet in fear.Perhaps the idea of going out,so as not to stay in the dark of his room,had not been the best.Or maybe it was the worst idea that had ever occurred to him and only now did he find it stupid.

«So?Are you coming or not?»Y/n called for his attention again,noting the thin veil of blush on his pale cheeks.

She was younger than him by only two years,yet she was still more mature than him.She had this aura surrounding her,of someone that would have took care of him.Someone he could really start to trust and lay down his strength.A little sun,personal and only for him,to remind him that the storms he was so afraid of were only temporary while she would have been by his side forever.

Cregan found himself shaking Y/n hand,who helped him climb over the wall that divided them, and in a moment he was on the other balcony.

He crossed his eyes again with those of his future wife,who immediately answered him with another sweet smile and opened the window door,to let him enter in the warmth of her room and protect him from that storm.

Immediately closed the door behind them and,after a moment of uncertainty she spoke first«Give me your cloak,i’ll put it here with mine so that tomorrow the servants can wash them.»she told him,taking her off to remain in her pink nightgown.

Cregan blushed even more as he nodded as if in a trance and took off his dark cloak,handing it over to her and revealing a pastel-colored pajamas.

He thought it was impossible for a room to look like it owner,but Y/n bedroom was just like her:a mess of colors,books everywhere and with a pleasant warmth that made him feel safe.

«Why are you still awake?»Cregan suddenly asked,trying to not move around too much.

The little girl took two pillows from her bed and a blanket,walking to the fluffy carpet in front of the old fireplace that the servants had lighted up before she went to bed,once the thunderstorm had started.

«I like to watch the storms.»she said,patting the empty space next to her with one hand«Also,now that my mother is pregnant and my father stays up with his advisors,i need to check on her.»she continues.

Cregan looked at her carefully,the long hair falling free on her shoulders,her perfect face.He was right,she so much mature than he was,already taking care of everyone around her at such a young age,just like a proper lady should.

As he took place next to her on the pavement,still keeping a proper distance between them,Cregan realized that he didn't know anything about her.But he knew how much she loved her mother as he always saw the two of them holding hands.He didn't know if she had the same relationship with her father,who seemed to prefer her older brothers,but he still didn't have enough closeness to ask her for more information.

In fact,they had absolutely no closeness and it could be seen in the silence that fell between the two children.One of those silences that always arise in similar situations,when two people don't know each other but have to spend time together.

«Would you like to do something?»Y/n calm voice sounded even more melodious up close.

She tried to mask that awkwardness with a polite tone,asking her guest with a kind expression.

Cregan spoke little and for the rest of the time he just agreed or disagreed on a certain statement.

The younger of the two was shrinking her minds to think of some kind of game to play together, but the boy next to her would just stare at her,frowning,as if he was annoyed by that situation,while standing close to window of that room like he wanted to escape that situation.

Y/n curled her nose,bored by that sudden superior attitude that Cregan was carrying on himself.

«Look,you can still go back in the rain if you prefer.»she told him,with a sour tone.

She felt bad to see him frightened by that thunderstorm,but if he didn't even show her a minimum of gratitude or a spirit of collaboration, then he could very well leave.Y/n was a sunny child,always with a smile on her face and ready to raise the morale of anyone who needed it.

But“This boy is really unpleasant”she thought.

Cregan crossed his arms to his chest,squeezing his eyes and staring at her,offended and angry at the same time.He thought that he shouldn’t have accepted her invitation and that both their fathers had made a mistake by promising them.They would never get along.

He could very well go back to his room and overcome that storm on his own,as he had always done until then.He didn’t need Y/n help.He made a grimace in the direction of the little girl,who responded to the gesture by raising her eyes to the sky.

But when he was about to open the window door and return to his room,without his dark cloak,a flash illuminated the sky and his face.

Cregan eyes went wide,as he was falling backwards and ending up on the ground on his butt as he waited for the arrival of the thunder that did not take long to arrive.His lower lip trembled,while he couldn't move any muscle.

He hated how thunderstorms could do this to him.He hated how they could make him tremble and frighten.

“They are a normal thing,dictated by nature”his father had always told him.

Yet Cregan didn't believe it.He continued to hate thunderstorms.

And something told him that this fear of his would never go away.

«Cregan.... are you all right?»he heard a soft voice behind his back.

Cregan looked up and saw Y/n standing on her knees on the carpet and he only remembered at that moment of her presence.

The boy gasped,looking for an answer.But before he could speak,another flash lit up the room,and before the thunder could be heard,Cregan had already put his hands on his ears.

The arrogant facade,which he had previously put on,had now completely crumbled, revealing his insecure and frightened side.

Y/n didn't know what to do.

The annoyed face she had a little while ago,was gone.Now she was really worried for him.She just wanted to find a way to distract him,and to put an end to that clash of lights that illuminated the room.

Cregan did not move,with his head resting on his bent knees,and the palms of his hands were still covering his ears,in the vain hope of not hearing that almost metallic and shackled noises.

«It’s alright,don't worry.»Y/n tried to reassure him.But it seemed that no one could move the young boy.

«They usually just make a big noise and then they go away.»she continued with a reassuring voice getting closer to him.

But Cregan was still shaking, scared,and Y/n didn't know what to do.She was never scared of thunderstorms.She would have liked to hold him tight in a hug,to drive away all his fear.But she knew that if she did,she would only make things worse.

In the meantime,Cregan continued to make himself small,smaller and smaller,curled up almost on himself on that light pavement.

«I mean…deep down it's just water,isn't it?Water and lights.As if it were an ocean... and the oceans are beautiful,aren't they,Cregan?»she asked with a hint of hope.

Y/n was used to the water,she lived near the sea and she had grew up running up and down on her fathers boats with her brothers.Her mothers read her stories about fishes,sailors,mermen and mermaids.

And while he did not respond,too busy controlling his fear,Y/n came up with an idea.

«I know what to do!»she almost screamed,catching Cregan attention and shicking around the room,as if looking for something.

The boy looked at her confused,forgetting – but only for a short time – of the thunderstorm.

«There you are.»Y/n exhaled,almost relieved.

Cregan blinked,observing the more confusion she had created throughout that room,the books scattered on the floor and the cabinets wide open,just for that medium-sized old book she now held in her hands,with a proud and satisfied smile.He didn't understand what use that book could have,but he didn't breathe,limiting himself to observing the young girl sitting carefully next to him and opening it.

And then millions of billions of fishes began to swim between the old pages.Cregan mouth widened into an “o”, but he quickly closed it again before Y/n could notice his astonishment.It's just a very simple book of fairy tales,he said to himself.

Yet,in some way,it had distracted him.

«If you lie down on the bed,you can see them better.»Y/n spoke,making herself comfortable on her bed and starting to turning the pages.

Cregan grimaced,watching how she was smiling.That wasn’t proper.

«Why should I lie down-»yet another thunder«Alright... I lie down.»he immediately changed his mind.

He hurriedly took the steps that separated him from that bed,before sinking into the lavander sheets that smelled of flowers and vanilla.

Y/n by his side smiled at him.But Cregan didn’t,remaining impassive and jolting at every thunder.She closed the curtains around her bad,only the soft light of the candle on the nightstand remain.The 'lightning' factor had been solved.

«They're beautiful,aren’t they?»she said,tracing with her fingers the different fishes.

They were.Their shapes,colors,sizes were mesmerizing.

Cregan didn't know to answer again.Those bright,fishes seemed to moved quickly on all those pages in a continuous flow.They were simple,so damn simple,yet they had caught the his attention.

«Yes,they ar–»he tried to agree with her,but here's yet another thunder made him jump out of fear.

Y/n by his side watched him close his eyes and plug his ears with both hands.

She had to find a way to distract him from the sounds too.

«You see him?»she turned the page and pointed to a strange figure on the right corner.

A man with a tail of a fish.

Cregan turned to her,taking his hands off his ears and moving his eyes on what Y/n finger was pointing to.

«It’s a merman?»he sounded uncertain,the figure on the book looked like the blazon of house Manderly.

Y/n nodded her head confirming his question«They said that he loved another mermaid and when the pirates had captured her,driven by grief,he turned his body in marble creating White Harbor.»she explained him,showing him another picture of the place where now she was living.

Cregan looked confused,his eyebrows raising«Why would he do that?»

The girl next to him sighed,her shoulder touching his,the sweet perfume of her hair was tickling his nose.She was warm and soft and made his stomach twist and his hands sweat.

«I guess that he couldn’t live without her and preferred to die.»she simply answered«Years ago i used to cry when my mother read me this story.»she continued as she flipped the page.

In the dim light,he could see that her eyes were a little glassy and only now he remembered that just like him,she was still a child with fears like him and stories that made her cry in her mother arms.

«How about her?»Cregan eyes and hand went to point to a female picture.

A mermaid with a red tale and long wet red hair on her shoulders,sitting on a rock near the coast.Her beautiful expression seemed pained,her mouth opened as if she was saying something.In the distance seemed that a storm was coming,the waves crashing into the shore,dark clouds on the horizon.

Y/n smiled,stretching the book out to him so that he could take a better look«She was a princess that fell in love with a sailor.Her father,the King of the fourteen seas had forbidden their love.»she started to explain with a soft tone«They could see each other only on the beginning of the Long Summer,when her father was away in the ocean»she said.

Cregan yawned«And how did they knew when the Long Summer came?»he seemed genuinely interested now.

«The storm.»Y/n quickly answered«It was her way to let him know that she was waiting for him.She was calling him back to her.»in her expression he could find a hint of teasing.

He shuddered,the thing that scared him the most,for this children book,was just a mermaid calling for her lover.

«But how does he know?»he asked again and his voice was becoming softer,his eyes closing a bit,yet he stayed very curious about the story.

«Does he know what?»Y/n whispered.

«That it was her.»he continued.

«Because he had loved no else but her in his life.Only her could have called him back home.»she explained and he swore he could’ve seen her eyes shine bright.

«I hate her father.»Cregan mumbled.

He found it stupid,it was just a fairy tale to help people sleep,but if the mermaid father didn’t get in the way tonight he would’ve been scared.And that’s also must had been the reason why she wasn’t afraid of them.

Y/n giggles made him blush,as she shook a little onto him«But you know what’s the best part of it?For the rest of the summer there wouldn’t be any other storms,just the bright sun as the two of them could be together.»she whispered.

It was a way to say that after every thunderstorm that would’ve been the sun.Always.

«Wasn’t she scared of her father founding out that they were still together?»his voice was sleepy and his eyes heavy.

Y/n shook her head«Love is stronger than fear.»she stated«Don’t you find it beautiful?»she said then,a dreamy look in her eyes.

There was no answer.

Y/n turned to him,finding him with his eyes closed and his mouth half-open.His chest would rise and fall at a regular pace,while his slight breathing could be heard.She smiled at that sight as she stroked his hair.

Cregan had fallen asleep.Y/n was satisfied.Satisfied and happy.

She succeeded in her intent,help him and distract him from the thing that scared him the most.She wondered what Cregan would do at this time if Y/n hadn’t invited him?

He would probably still have been awake.Because the thunderstorm hadn't stopped,no,it had never stopped.The mermaid was still calling for her lover.

The flashes,however,had mixed in the images on the pages and the noise of thunder had been lost among the stories of Y/n mermaids.Cregan had been so busy observing those images drawn on the book and hating the King of the seas,that he completely forgot about the thunderstorm.

Y/n closed the book,placed it carefully on her nightstand and reached out to grab a thin sheet at the bottom of their feet and covered the young boy who slept well by her side.

«Good night,Cregan.Tomorrow there will be the sun,i promise you.»she whispered kissing his forehead and drifting to sleep too.

And for the first time,after so many years,he slept.After so many years,Cregan was sleeping peacefully with a thunderstorm.

On any day in the early summer,ten years later,Lady Y/n Stark of Winterfell was laying in the bed she shared with her Lord husband.

Wife and husband,that’s what her and Cregan had been for the past four years.But before pronouncing their vows in front of the Seven and their families,they had became the best of friends.

When did they start calling each other that way?When did they become friends?Could they find a precise moment when they had gone from being strangers to even best friends?Were they able to establish the exact moment when their bond changed?

No,they couldn’t.

Maybe it was the year after that fateful rainy night.Maybe it was the next month when Cregan had spent all of his moments and attention in Y/n presence,falling in love with her more and more.

Or maybe it had happened at the exact time their hands had touched,when Y/n had proposed to be together in that thunderstorm,to mark the point of change for their relationship.

They didn't know that though.Neither of them knew for sure.But they didn't even ask.They fell in love with each other before they got married and that was that mattered.There are bonds that are born before the interlocking of the hands and connections that are born before touching each other.It was just pretty to think that,all this time,there was some kind of invisible string that was tying them together.

Anyone who cared for Cregan had to understand that he needed a little looking after.Someone who could help him sleep,who reminded him that he was just human and that he could still a child sometimes.And Y/n understood that,she held him gently,far more gently that anyone ever did.She stayed up with him when he couldn’t sleep at night,she stood next to him to greet the arrival of Prince Jacaerys Velaryon and supported him in his decision to fight for the Dragon Queen.

All because she loved him more than anything and because he loved her.To love and to be loved was to rest.

Yet,now that Cregan was away,on the Wall of the great north with the young prince,Y/n couldn’t seem to find sleep.It was raining heavily outside,the long summer had arrived earlier that year and a violent storm was what welcomed it.

The pale rays of the moon filtered through the clouds,the wind was blowing against the windows,the lights of the lightning shaped the dark room she was in.

Cregan had ruined her,she thought to herself,ever since they got married and started to share the bed she couldn’t sleep if he wasn’t next to her,holding her in his arms,kissing her lips softly and whispering how much he loved her.But she knew that,with the war at their doorstep,he was busy with the young prince Jacaerys who came two weeks ago in ask for the help of the North.

Her husband was a man of honor,the Lord of Winterfell that never forget his oaths.

When a particular loud thunder broke through the quietness of the castle,Y/n got up from her bed.Taking the candle on the nightstand,she started walking down the dark corridor to reach her children chambers.Her sons,Rickon and Brandon,only four and two years old,looked exactly like their father:true men of the north but with their mother eyes and kind smile.

Just like their father they were scared of storms,it took her hours to put them to bed that night since the first drop of rain had hit the ground.They both reminded her the first time that she had spent with Cregan during one of those,curling up on her as she read them one of her books to help them sleep.

But that night was different,after two weeks of writing letters and longing,Cregan was finally home.As she quietly opened the door,the candle that Y/n was holding in her hand almost fell,when she saw her husband sitting on a chair in between the two beds where their sons seemed to sleep so soundly and well.

He was still wearing his dark fire coat and his long were wet,the tip of his nose red from the cold,while in his hands he was holding a old fairy tale book that they both knew very well.As if he had heard her behind the door,he smiled,and his face was like the sun.

He had came back as soon as he had heard the first sounds of the thunders,like a sailor bewitched by the melody of a siren voice.His sons were the first ones to greet him,running barefoot down the hallways to reach comfort in their father strong arms.

Cregan had been there before,his heart clenched in his chest as he dried the tears off their eyes and saw the fear on their little faces.But he knew what he had to do,unlike his father,he would always be there for help his children no matter what.

«The mermaid had waited all winter for her lover return,her voice guided him through the storm.»his voice was quiet and soft like a warm blanket«With the first lights of the new sun,he came back to her.»in his hands the hold book.

His oldest son yawned«But wasn’t he afraid of the storm?»Rickon asked,holding his teddy bear closer to his chest.

«He was.»Cregan nodded«But you know what is stronger than fear?»he whispered,noticing his younger son fast asleep.

Rickon shook his head,his eyes fighting to urge to close«What?»he chirped.

«Love.»his father simply answered«The idea of coming back to his lover was stronger than the fear of the storm.»Cregan stood up,caressing his son head.

«One day i want to love someone this much.Just like you love mama.»Rickon murmured sleepy,with a little smile on his face.

«And you will.»he promised«One day you will have someone that will help you overcome your fears and that will always call you back home when you are wondering too far.»he kissed both of his sons forehead.

Cregan was still a little nervous about storms,but that night he was finally back home as sun on water.Y/n reached for him and skimmed her hands over the light of him.

«I missed you.»she whispered on his lips,kissing him sweetly.

Cregan was holding her in his arms,gently caressing her hair,his forehead on hers«I saw the storm and i knew.»he smiled,trailing his lips on her chin and cheeks.

Y/n shivered,not only because his icy fingers were rubbing up and down her back,but because only her could understand the meaning of those words.The intimacy of having something only them could share with each other.

«So you came back early because of the storm?»she giggled as his beard tickled her beautiful face.

He smiled even more,tightening his grip on her smaller body«I came back because of you.Only you could have called me back home.»he whispered placing a kiss on her lips.

The smell of her hair,the taste of her mouth,the feeling of her skin seemed to have gotten inside of him or in the air all around him.She had become a physical necessity,not only to ease his fear,but to have someone to come back to.

She placed her head on his chest,listening to his heartbeat beating alongside hers.They stood there for a moment more,embracing each other,in the dark corridor.

«Do you hear it?»Y/n softly asked suddenly.

«Hear what?»Cregan voice was low.

«The sound of the rain.»she explained,closing her eyes and relaxing against his touch.

For a while they just listened to the incessant ticking of the rain,while a thousand fish continued to swim on the pages of their book.

But suddenly a flash illuminated the corridor,followed by the due thunder.

Y/n jolted,expecting her husband to do the same.

Yet this was not the case«Aren't you afraid of thunderstorms anymore?»she teased him.

«How can I be afraid of thunderstorms when I'm by your side?»he said,caressing her cheek lovingly.

«Tomorrow there will be the sun.»she smiled against him,brighter than any light.

She was right,after the storm there was always the warm weather and Y/n was the golden sun at the horizon.That one thing that gave him hope for a brighter future,the only one that could bring him back home.Because his sleepless nights are better with her than any nights could ever be alone.

664 notes · View notes

evidence-based-activism · 3 months ago

Text

Porn Addiction

Context for post

I am much less concerned with the effects of porn on the "consumer" and more concerned with the abuse of women needed to "produce" pornography and the misogynistic beliefs and behaviors it helps perpetuate in society.

That being said, YourBrainOnPorn has done an excellent job coalescing research on this topic.

This page (currently) has over 60 studies discussing the neuroscience behind pornography addition [1]

This page (currently) has over 60 studies discussing the addiction like characteristics of pornography use: escalation, habituation, and withdrawal [2]

The WHO included in its classification system "compulsive sexual behavior disorder" which can include excessive pornography use [3]

This is a summary page of the above [4]

Nicole Prause and her associates publish academically dishonest articles with cherry-picked evidence.

The two articles most frequently referenced by pornography-defenders have been thoroughly analyzed and debunke by YourBrainOnPorn. See: this page [5] and this page [6]. (You can also find documentation of her harassment and dishonesty.)

Recycling the same few articles by discredited academics does not an argument make.

---

All of this being said, I want to take the time to point out that while pornography addiction is a real phenomenon, it is also different in many ways from most addictive substances, because it inherently requires the abuse and exploitation of women. (See my #sex industry tag for more discussion on why and how this is true.)

References below the cut:

Your Brain On Porn. (2024). Brain studies on porn users & sex addicts. Web Archive. https://web.archive.org/web/20240816173255/https://www.yourbrainonporn.com/relevant-research-and-articles-about-the-studies/brain-studies-on-porn-users-sex-addicts/

Your Brain On Porn. (2024). Studies find escalation and habituation in porn users: Tolerance. Web Archive. https://web.archive.org/web/20240816173337/https://www.yourbrainonporn.com/relevant-research-and-articles-about-the-studies/porn-use-sex-addiction-studies/studies-find-escalation-and-habituation-in-porn-users-tolerance/

Your Brain On Porn. (2024). World Health Organization's ICD-11: Compulsive sexual behavior disorder. Web Archive. https://web.archive.org/web/20240816173345/https://www.yourbrainonporn.com/miscellaneous-resources/world-health-organizations-icd-11-compulsive-sexual-behavior-disorder/

Your Brain On Porn. (2024). Relevant research and articles about the studies. Web Archive. https://web.archive.org/web/20240816173355/https://www.yourbrainonporn.com/relevant-research-and-articles-about-the-studies/

Your Brain On Porn. (2024). Debunking: Why are we still so worried about watching porn? By Marty Klein, Taylor Kohut, and Nicole Prause. Web Archive. https://web.archive.org/web/20240816173406/https://www.yourbrainonporn.com/miscellaneous-resources/world-health-organizations-icd-11-compulsive-sexual-behavior-disorder/debunking-why-are-we-still-so-worried-about-watching-porn-by-marty-klein-taylor-kohut-and-nicole-prause/

Your Brain On Porn. (2024). Critiques of questionable debunking propaganda pieces: Debunking the debunker – critique of letter to the editor Prause et al. (2015): The latest falsification of addiction predictions. Web Archive. https://web.archive.org/web/20240816173424/https://www.yourbrainonporn.com/relevant-research-and-articles-about-the-studies/critiques-of-questionable-debunking-propaganda-pieces/debunking-the-debunker-critique-of-letter-to-the-editor-prause-et-al-2015-the-latest-falsification-of-addiction-predictions/

#feminism #sex industry

206 notes · View notes

graysoncritic · 7 months ago

Text

A (Negative) Review of Tom Taylor's Nightwing Run - What Went Wrong? Barbara Gordon

Introduction Who is Dick Grayson? What Went Wrong? Dick's Characterization What Went Wrong? Barbara Gordon What Went Wrong? Bludhaven (Part 1, Part 2) What Went Wrong? Melinda Lin Grayson What Went Wrong? Bea Bennett What Went Wrong? Villains Conclusion Bibliography

Out of this entire essay, this was the section that I considered cutting entirely. After all, in the past there have been instances when Barbara Gordon and her romance with Dick Grayson have been weaponized by Taylor and his fans against his critics.

The example that comes to mind was when Taylor and Redondo were criticized for not including Duke in a Nightwing cover that parodied The Brady Bunch.

(Taylor, Tom, writer. Redondo, Bruno, illustrator. Battle for Bludhaven’s Heart Finale. Nightwing: Rebirth. 96, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2022)

Personally, I believe that, while discussions of how Duke’s positioning in the Bat Family is warranted, the matter was blown out of proportion, and many of the attempts to cancel Taylor crossed the line into harassment (make no mistake, while I believe him to be a terrible writer, I do not wish him any ill-will). That being said, Taylor also escalated the matters when attempting to pin said negative comments onto DickKory shippers who did not like that he wrote DickBabs.

(While the original Tweet has since been deleted, the screenshot used is available in this tweet

Neb | 🏳️‍🌈 [@NebsGoodTakes]. Twitter, 20 June 2022, https://twitter.com/NebsGoodTakes/status/1538939571789934593)

For this reason and this reason alone, I considered removing this part of the essay. While I have no idea if anyone will read this monstrosity, I did not want my arguments to be invalidated simply because I did not have a favorable opinion on the DickBabs.

However, after much consideration and numerous discussions with other Dick Grayson fans, I found that the subject of Barbara Gordon’s portrayal in this run (as well as in many recent DC media), and her romance with Dick perfectly embodies many of ideas I wish to explore in this essay — mainly, how shallow approaches to progress ideals create deeply problematic narratives that not only undermines the themes of a story, but they also destroy characterization.

I will start by once again stating that I do not believe this is a problem unique to Taylor’s writing. As I alluded to above, I believe DC’s modern portrayal of Babs does a great disservice to her wonderful, empowering, complex character. This is but the analysis of one of the stories she appears in. It is my hope to prove that in Taylor’s Nightwing, Barbara Gordon is not written as a woman with a strong sense of self and an internal life, but rather idealized girl whose existence revolves around the men in her life, and whose perfect yet shimmering depiction serves only to make her into the reader’s proxy-girlriend.

Barbara Gordon in the late 90s and early 2000s was a mature and confident woman in her late-20s to early-30s. She had her own job, her own friends, team, villains, and the type of confidence that can only come with age and experience. She was serious while still having a sense of humor, pragmatic, and she knew exactly what she wanted for herself.

(Gail, Simone, writer. Bennett, Joe; Barrows, Eddy, illustrator. Perfect Pitch: Part One. Birds of Prey. 87, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2005. pp. 22)

She was also flawed. She could get angry at people for little reason, she could be too cold or too straightforward without considering the other person’s feelings, she could be purposefully petty and selfish, she could get unreasonably jealous, she was impatient, she could be too proud to admit when she was wrong. It was all of these factors which allowed Barbara Gordon to be her own person — to be a fleshed out, well-rounded woman.

(Dixon, Chuck, writer. Leonardi, Rick, illustrator. The Gun. Birds of Prey. 39, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2002. pp. 16)

Babs’ life did not revolve around Dick. Yes, she loved him, but she still had some interiority. She had a life outside of Dick Grayson, outside of Bludhaven, outside of Batman, and outside of Oracle. She had her own goals, her own dreams, her own likes and dislikes that worked independently of the men around her. She had her own history that informed her decisions, she had both positive and negative relationships with other women and those relationships were not dependent on her connections with Dick or Bruce.

(Gail, Simone, writer. Timm, Bruce; Lopez, David; Melo, Adriana, illustrators. A Wakeful Time. Birds of Prey. 86, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2005. pp. 02)

By comparison, Taylor’s Barbara is not a woman, but a girl. She is very young and very immature. If Dick is written like a young man who just left home and is experiencing adulthood for the first time, then Babs is written as his girlfriend who is still in college and does not have concrete plans for her future.

Note that when referring to Taylor’s Babs, I mainly characterize her through her relationship with Dick. That was intentional. While writing this essay, I struggled to think of Barbara having any meaningful interactions with characters who were not Dick or Dick’s friends, the Titans. I also struggled to think of her doing something for herself rather than for Dick and the Titans. I struggled to define her goals independent of Dick, I struggled to describe the plans she has for her future that do not revolve around her relationship with Dick, and I struggled to give an account of what she does in her spare time when she is not helping Dick, Nightwing, the Titans, or Batman. That is because everything in Barbara Gordon’s life, as written by Taylor, is constructed around Dick (As many may know, it is really hard to prove a negative. How can I get supporting evidence from the comics that Babs does not have a life outside of Dick Grayson when my argument comes from those factors not existing? For this, though I hate to do so, I’m afraid I’ll have to rely on the reader’s familiarity with the run being discussed).

Barbara is a constant presence in Taylor’s Nightwing run. She is a secondary protagonist, and she is often portraying helping Dick Grayson behind the scenes,

(Taylor, Tom, illustrator. Redondo, Bruno The Battle for Bludhaven’s Heart Part Two. Nightwing: Rebirth. 93, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2022 pp)

Helping Nightwing as Oracle,

(Taylor, Tom, writer. Redondo, Bruno, illustrator Leaping into the Light Part 4. Nightwing: Rebirth. 81, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2021. pp 19)

Or fighting by Nightwing’s side as Batgirl.

(Taylor, Tom, writer. Redondo, Bruno, illustrator. You are Nightwing. Nightwing: Rebirth. 105, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2023. pp. 05)

She is always present, she is always doing something… But all of that is in the service of the men around her rather than for herself.

As Dick Grayson Fan A pointed out during a discussion, “Modern Babsgirl is forced to be perfect at everything. She's never allowed postcrisis Babs' edges, her flaws and intrinsic motivations. Taylor's Babsgirl is designed to be the perfect girlfriend for his blank self insert Nightwing. There's no meat to her bones, she's just shimmer and gloss.” (The subject of Babs came up when DC announced the lineup for Birds of Prey (2023) and Babs was not included on the roster.)

In other words, Babs as portrayed in Taylor’s run lacks any bite, edge, and maturity that would make her feel like a woman with her own sense of self and with a life that is not dependent on her boyfriend. Babs’ portrayal is a shallow girlboss-type of feminism, where though Babs is powerful and intelligent, she is not allowed to be a real person for she serves no purpose other than to be the perfect, understanding, badass girlfriend.

As a result, Dick and Barbara’s relationship becomes hollow. Because Babs lacks interiority, individuality, and agency, she becomes a flat character. This, in turn, makes it so it is hard to understand why Dick and Barbara are together other than for the fact that DC mandates it. The over reliance on the childhood friends-to-lovers trope only increases this hollowness rather than fleshing out their relationship. While Taylor includes flashbacks of Dick and Babs as friends when children, growing up together as teenagers, and fighting together as Robin and Batgirl, those instances feel removed from their individual histories. These moments exist in isolation, removed from the context of the rest of their lives, be it together or separately.

(Taylor, Tom, writer. Redondo, Bruno, illustrator The Battle for Bludhaven’s Heart. Nightwing: Rebirth. 92, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2022. pp 06 - 07)

DC currently treats Dick and Babs as a foregone conclusion. As a result, Taylor does not make an effort to get his readers on board with the relationship because he assumes that they should already support it. Dick and Babs are portrayed as getting along great, never having had any conflict, tension, or disagreements. This idealized romance would not necessarily be a problem if it didn’t come at the expense of developing Dick and Barbara as individuals outside of their relationship. They are not one being, but two separate people coming together. They should be written as such, but in trying to create the perfect relationship, Taylor robs Dick and Babs of their identity outside of their romance.

Not only does this inseparability that Taylor attempts to portray as “charming” destroy Dick and Babs’ individuality, it can also be downright insulting. In #106 Taylor infantilizes Dick when making it so Babs needs to be the one to wake him up so he can start his work as Nightwing.

As I mentioned previously, Dick is known for his toxic perfectionism, his obsessive tendencies that often come at the cost of his health. Making Dick laze around in bed while people need his help and having his girlfriend tell him to get ready for the day, as if she was his mother and he was a teenager who did not want to go to school in the morning, is not only out of character, it also diminishes Dick’s competence. It makes it seem like he cannot function as a responsible adult without Babs being there to hold his hand through everyday difficulties.

Not only that, the scene also plays into incredibly sexist dynamics where women are expected to carry the domestic labor in a relationship — the man cannot keep track of his own schedule, and so it becomes the woman’s responsibility to attend to his needs. What was intended to be a “cute” scene portrays Dick as being immature and irresponsible, and portrays Babs spend her time keeping track of an adult man’s responsibilities.

(Taylor, Tom, writer. Byrne, Stephen, illustrator. The Crew of the Crossed Part One. Nightwing: Rebirth. 106, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2023. pp 08)

This unhealthy codependency further insults Dick when, in #107, Babs demands Dick come back home as he is about to help his ex, Bea. Rather than believing Dick’s capability as a vigilante who has been operating in the field for far longer than she has, Babs shows her complete lack of faith in Dick’s ability to get anything done by himself by telling him that she “wants him home now.”

(Taylor, Tom; Byrne, Stephen The Crew of the Crossed Part Two. Nightwing: Rebirth. 107 e-book ed. DC Comics, 2023. pp. 19)

This is a great contrast to Nightwing (1996) #66, where Babs encouraged Dick’s independence and had full trust in his abilities to take on such difficult challenges on his own. When Lockhaven goes up in flames, Babs trusts Dick to be able to handle the situation by himself, even though she also knows that Dick’s mind is greatly preoccupied with Bruce and the murder of Vesper Fairchild. Indeed, in the next issue (not part of Murderer/Fugitive, but happening simultaneously to it), Dick does handle the Lockhaven fire by himself, without requiring any assistance, before returning to Gotham to help with the investigation that should clear Bruce’s name.

(Dixon, Chuck, writer. Burchett, Rick, illustrator. The Unusual Suspects. Nightwing. 66, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2002. pp 18 - 19)

This healthy separation and this unconditional trust not only portrayed Dick and Babs as both trusting each other’s abilities as heroes — Dick did not worry about Babs’ capability of taking care of herself, and Babs knew Dick could handle his own — it also portrayed them as being more secure in their relationship. They were individuals first. They had their own independent lives and personalities outside of their romance. They trusted the other’s ability to win on their own and handle their own cases without help. And that, in turn, made it so that they could stand on their own, and so that their relationship did not feel so vulnerable.

That being said, it wasn’t as if previous depictions of Dick and Babs didn’t present them with hardships, or demonstrated how, at times, they could bring out the worst in each other. As much as they could compliment one another, Dick and Babs could also disagree, get into arguments, and even fights. That is because they were individuals first, with their own opinions, preferred way of doing things, and their own background that would sometimes come in conflict.

Taylor avoids having meaningful conflicts in his story. While this negatively affects his narrative in a myriad of ways, the lack of the conflict in the plot also affects the relationship between Dick and Babs. It is fine to have a wholesome, sweet romance, so long as it is balanced with a plot containing other forms of tension. This way, the relationship can be a safe harbor for the main characters, the one space in their lives where they can be safe, and the one source of strength they can draw upon when facing the challenges ahead. By balancing a conflict-filled plot with a wholesome romance, the stakes of the plot feel higher while the romance feels sweeter. They foil one another to create a cohesive and unified story.

In Taylor’s Nightwing, all major plot beats take a backseat to the sitcom-like relationship between Dick and Babs. The lack of conflict in the plot and the lack of conflict in the romance makes it so everything is stagnant.

I do believe that Taylor thought he was writing a “Will-they-won’t-they” style romance in the beginning of his run. In Nightwing #95, for example, Batwoman implies that the reason Dick and Babs aren’t together is because Dick and Babs are scared of crossing that line.

(Taylor, Tom, writer. Redondo, Bruno The Battle for Bludhaven’s Heart Part Four. Nightwing: Rebirth. 95, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2022. pp 17)

Wally also played into that idea when, in #91, he pointed out that Dick and Babs were already together and just needed to make it official.

(Taylor, Tom, writer. Redondo, Bruno, illustrator. Get Grayson Act Three. Nightwing: Rebirth. 91, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2022. pp 19)

More than that, I believe Taylor attempted to make a commentary on comics imposing needless conflicts in relationships to keep two characters apart. In Taylor’s view, Dick and Babs were always in love, always meant to be together, and never had a complicated history that prevented them from rekindling their romance when Dick is trying to regain some control over his life after recovering his memories. This shows a lack of understanding as to why Dick and Babs often break up and does a disservice to both their characters.

Now, to explain this, I’ll borrow heavily from a private discussion I had with a Dick Grayson Fan A once distinguishing the difference between external and internal conflicts in a romantic plot. While we were not talking Dick and Barbara then, much of what we said still applies to their relationship.

External conflicts, as the name suggests, involve external forces that keep the couple from being able to develop their relationship despite their mutual feelings for each other. This is the case with a romance like Clark and Lois. Given Babs’ laugh at Dick’s condescendingly sexist claim that Babs shouldn’t be with him because it is too dangerous (as if he doesn’t know very well that Babs can easily take care of herself), it seemed that Taylor believed that this was the conflict that has been keeping Dick and Babs apart. And so, with one panel, he dismissed the idea that external forces could keep Dick and Babs apart because they are able to face their enemies together.

(Taylor, Tom, writer. Redondo, Bruno, illustrator Battle for Bludhaven’s Heart Finale. Nightwing: Rebirth. 96, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2022. pp. 17 - 18)

But in the past, what broke Dick and Babs up were not external conflicts, but internal ones. If external conflicts are created due to external forces, internal conflicts preventing a couple from being together come from the characters not yet being who they need to be in order to be happy together. This can be due to a clash of personalities, worldviews, needs, wants, or goals. To prove my point, I want to look at Dick and Bab’s break up in Nightwing (1996) #87 and the Nightwing Annual #02. (I’ll be honest in saying that it pains me to cite Nightwing Annual #02 in this essay, for I absolutely detest it. I believe Dick is written incredibly out of character and it, quite frankly, captures one of my major problems with how some writers choose to depict DickBabs. In trying to prop Babs up, Dick gets knocked down and ridiculed, and often burdened with the full responsibility as to why Dick and Babs haven’t been able to get together due to timing and Dick’s immaturity. As such, writers make it so Dick and Dick alone must change in order to become a partner worthy of Babs. They greatly mischaracterize him, fault the failures of Dick and Babs’ relationships on those mischaracterizations, and then portray Babs as the patient woman waiting for her immature soulmate to grow up. This is both an insult to Dick’s character and a propagation of sexist tropes where a woman must put her life on hold in order for the man to “catch up” to her maturely. Not only that, it unfairly requires that only one party makes changes for another. It is not Dick and Babs that must change for each other, but Dick who must change for Babs.)

Just as Taylor uses Dick and Babs’ shared history to bring them together, their breakup explores how shared history can make being together so difficult.

In Devin Grayson’s run, their shared history can be painful to Babs. Not because she doesn’t look back on their time growing up together fondly, but because it was such a happy time in her life that it makes her feel bitter about what she lost. While she is incredible as Oracle, she is still frustrated that she can't be Batgirl anymore. The past, no matter how good, is a reminder of what she can no longer be, and Babs wants to move forward. So Dick bringing up their time as Robin and Batgirl, however fondly, is painful for it makes her feel like they are stuck in the past they shared rather than moving forward together.

(Grayson, Devin, writer. Zitcher, Path, illustrator The Calm Before. Nightwing. 86, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2003. pp 21 - 22)

But to Dick, the past you share with someone is what makes your relationship in the present special. The past informs the present and the future. Dick, much like Bruce, doesn’t move forward by disconnecting himself from the past. His parents are part of his past. So is Robin. His childhood with Bruce. The past is something good to Dick, even when it's also so filled with pain. Dick is not shackled by his past the way Bruce is because he does not see it as something that needs to hold him back. You can move forward while still embracing who you once were and honoring the legacy you carry on your shoulders. The past informed who Dick is now, the relationships he has, and the person he wants to be. The past is where much of what he loves exists. So when he brings up their shared history when talking to Babs, he is not doing it because he loved Batgirl but cannot love Oracle, and he is not doing so because he is just focused on who they were then and not who they are now; he does it it's because to Dick, there's no such distinction between Batgirl and Oracle. They are both Babs, and he loves both of them.

(Grayson, Devin, writer. Zitcher, Patch, illustrator. Snowball. Nightwing. 87, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2003. pp 16)

The way Babs copes with trauma is by divorcing herself from the hurt, by letting go of who she was and embracing who she wants to be. Dick, on the other hand, merges who he was then with who he is now. He doesn't see those people as separate entities, but rather as extensions of him. And that makes sense when you consider that Babs' main trauma relates to something that was taken away from her, and for Dick, the only way he can remain connected to his parents is through the past. It's a great example of incompatibility. Neither one is "at fault" for how they view this issue, neither of them is more correct than the other. They are just different. They care for each other, but the way they understand and interact with the world prevents them from being happy together at this moment. For that to work, internal change is needed.

In portraying Dick and Barbara as complex individuals first, who have different attitudes towards looking back at the past and looking forward to the future, Grayson managed to make their relationship feel real. There’s a weight to their breakup, you can see why they care for each other and why this decision is painful and not taken lightly. They love each other, but they are not in a place where they can be themselves and be happy together yet. It is not danger that keeps them apart — it is the very same differences which they admire most about each other which pushes them away.

In Nightwing Annual #02, we see other reasons why Dick and Babs failed to come together so often. These included Babs being scared of Dick eventually leaving her due to tensions between Dick and Bruce

(Andreyko, Marc, writer. Bennett, Joe, illustrator Hero’s Journey. Nightwing Annual. 2, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2007. pp 22 - 23)

Timing,

(Andreyko, Marc, writer. Bennett, Joe, illustrator Hero’s Journey. Nightwing Annual. 2, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2007. pp 25)

And, perhaps most importantly, the way in which Dick devalues his own life.

(Andreyko, Marc, writer. Bennett, Joe, illustrator Hero’s Journey. Nightwing Annual. 2, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2007. pp 37 - 38)

This is something Grayson also alludes to during her run, when she often portrays Babs being both worried and frustrated at Dick’s tendencies to push himself too far.

(Grayson, Devin, writer. Zitcher, Patch, illustrator Snowball. Nightwing. 87, e-book ed. DC Comics, 2003. pp 13)

In both Grayson’s run and the aftermath of Infinite Crisis, the toxic perfectionism referred to many times during this essay led Babs to break off their relationship despite their mutual love.

Having lost the mobility of her legs due to the Joker, Babs sees her life as Oracle as a second chance, and one which she will use to its fullest by putting herself first. It makes sense, then, that she sees Dick’s self-sacrificing tendencies and his desire for approval as both concerning and irritating. As Dick constantly puts himself in near-death scenarios for even the smallest of things, Babs decides that she would rather wait for a time when Dick learns to value himself more rather than to continue in a relationship where she is the only one who cares about whether Dick lives or dies.

Whether this is the right solution to their relationship is up for debate. Personally, it irks me that stories will often frame this as Dick having to mature to be with Babs and not place an equal burden on Babs having to learn to accept that this is just who Dick is. But that is irrelevant to this discussion, for what matters is that there have been plenty of reasons why Dick and Babs did not work out in the past, and those are almost always rooted in who they are as individuals struggling to perfectly fit together as a unit. Dick and Babs have a messy history, both as individual characters with their own stories, and together as friends and romantic interests. They are two different people who, although their morals align, approach life differently. The development in their romance, then, comes with how willing they are to change for the other, and how willing they are to accept the things that cannot — and should not — be changed. It is about a balance of give and take, and when Babs and Dick broke up in the past, it was because they were not able to find that balance. It is because they, as individuals, clashed. As Fernando Gabriel Pagnoni Berns and Cesar Alfonso Marino put in their essay analyzing Dick’s portrayal in the Batman Family (1975-1978) series, Dick and Babs will often find themselves in “point[s] of inflection which marks that both heroes must go their separate ways to avoid further tensions (developed by sexual attraction and/or problems about leadership).” (Pagnoni Berns, Fernando Gabriel and Marino, Cesar Alfonso “Outlining the Future Robin: The Seventies in the Batman Family.”Dick Grayson, Boy Wonder: Scholars and Creators on 75 years of Robin, Nightwing, and Batman edited by Kristen L. Geaman, McFarland & Company, Inc., Publishers, 2015, pp. 32)

In other words, it was about interior conflicts, not exterior ones.

When taking this into consideration, one can see how Taylor’s portrayal of Dick and Babs’ relationship is not only incredibly hollow, but incredibly cynical. Because Taylor removed Dick’s self-destructive, toxic perfectionism, that is no longer a point of friction in their relationship. Because Babs is no longer the pragmatic woman who doses out tough love, that is also no longer a point of friction in their relationship. But as a result, Dick and Babs are no longer themselves, and their relationship is no longer representative of their shared history. Instead, we are left with an insulting and purposeful misrepresentation of their past relationship, with Taylor displaying a blatant disrespect and disregard for anything his predecessors contributed to these characters. Dick and Babs were never apart because of danger. Dick would never condescend to Barbara in this manner, and Barbara would never let something so trivial go unchallenged or get in the way of what she wants. What got in their way was a matter of compatibility. They may compliment each other in the field, be great friends, get along well, but in previous attempts to make their relationship work, they found that they were simply too different to share a life together, their goals did not align, and their approaches to life did not work together. Getting and staying together was not a matter of external factors, but rather whether they could do the difficult internal work necessary to make their romance last.

I want to make it clear that I actually love the childhood-friends-to-lovers trope. But what makes friends-to-lovers interesting is the fact that it creates inherently messy romances. If you two characters who have loved each other for so long, then they naturally have a history. They have seen each other at their best and at their worst. Yet, insecurities, timing, and compatibility keep them from being able to get their happily-ever-after. That creates a messiness that adds weight and meaning to the relationship. Seeing them overcome these challenges, become better individuals, and then finally come together is what makes the narrative so effective.

Dick’s and Babs’ romance, as currently portrayed, lacks that weight. Taylor and DC want that history, that “true love” aspect of their relationship without acknowledging the complications that come from having lived so many years in close proximity. In other words, they want the appearance of a long shared history without acknowledging the contents of said history. This robs both Dick and Babs of their individual personalities and backstories, for it is there where the source of their conflicts lie. All of the things that make them interesting individuals are sacrificed for the heteronormative DickBabs amalgamation. There is no Dick Grayson. There is no Barbara Gordon. There is only a happy, wholesome, smiling couple of nothingness — as it was put earlier it is all “shimmer, gloss, and no substance.”

And this does not affect only them.

In making Dick and Babs inseparable, Babs has become heavily involved with the Titans. This leads to the majority of Babs’s interactions in the current canon to be with Dick’s friends. And because, once more, Taylor skirts away from conflict, that means that all of Dick’s friends have become Babs’ friends. However, by making Babs friends with all of Dick’s female friends, Taylor created a shallow girlboss feminist narrative where all of these women’s individual personhoods are reduced their relationship to one man. He does not take into account who they are, only their gender and their mutual connection to Dick. In trying to do a girl-boss feminist empowerment, Taylor instead creates a deeply misogynistic narrative.

Kory and Babs, for example, should be allowed to dislike each other despite being on the same team. They are, after all, supposedly fully realized women with their own personalities, values, and goals. Their existence is not dependent on Dick Grayson or their romance with him. Real world women dislike one another for various reasons that are unrelated to men. Male characters often hate each other without it being because of a woman. So why can’t the same be true for female characters?

To attempt to make Kory and Babs friends simply to undermine expectations because one of them is Dick’s ex and the other one is Dick’s girlfriend is not empowering. It sacrifices characterization for the purposes of subversion.To think of the dynamic between these two characters in terms of their relationship with Dick reduces their existence to a man by implying that the only possible reason they could dislike one another is because of said man. It is not due to different value systems (which would be incredibly reasonable given their different background and cultures), it is not because their personalities clash (as they are two different people), it is not because their likes and dislikes may contradict (once more, because they are two different people). All the things that would make them realized individuals with agency are ignored in favor of focusing on their relationship with Dick.

Babs is a cisgender, straight, middle-class white woman from New Jersey. Kory is a warrior Princess from a different galaxy. It would not be unreasonable to expect their opinions to conflict when their backgrounds, upbringings, and experiences also differ. After all, those are things that shape our value system, dictating our perspectives.

Having different values or different ways to express your opinion does not mean that one is right and the other is wrong. It does not mean one is superior to the other. It only means they are different. Diverse. To believe one must be correct and the other must be wrong is to fall into the traps of ethnocentrism. By making Kory and Babs values indistinguishable, the story implies that there is only one correct way to interact with the world. This eliminates diverse perspectives in favor of a monolithic one. The fact that Kory's culture is the one that is ignored so that they are compatible with Babs implies that Babs – the cisgender, straight, middle-class white woman from New Jersey – is the one whose culture and world views are correct and, therefore, superior.

Dick’s relationship platonic relationship with Donna is also devalued and watered down in favor of Dick and Barbara’s romance. Because Dick and Barbara are depicted as having been each other’s best friends since childhood — when, in reality, Dick was closer to Donna during his preteen and teenage years, and Donna is often portrayed as his best friend — Donna’s place in Dick’s life is replaced by Babs. Babs must be everything to Dick — his true love, his longest childhood friend, his one female best friend.

This creates a narrative in which Dick cannot have a significant interaction with another woman without it being a threat to his relationship with Babs. Needless to say, this is an incredibly heteronormative worldview which implies that men and women who are not related cannot share deep and significant platonic intimacy without some underlying romantic tension. So naturally, Donna cannot he Dick’s longest friend, his best friend, because in the heteronormative world portrayed in Taylor’s run, that would mean that she is a rival to Babs.

Perhaps it is for this reason that Melinda was revealed to be Dick’s sister so soon into her introduction. If Melinda and Dick were not related but were still meant to interact with each other, that would create a bond that some might see as romantic or sexual. So by presenting Melinda as Dick’s biological sibling within moments of the two first interacting, Taylor strips Melinda of any romantic or sexual appeal. In this heteronormative world, only by being related can Dick and Melinda share intimacy without threatening Babs’ position in Dick’s life.

Needless to say, this heteronormative worldview which only allows for the relationship between non-biologically related men and women to be seen through lenses of romance and sex is also a misogynistic, male-centric worldview. In this story, women are not treated as people and are instead perceived solely through their relationship to Dick Grayson.

#nightwing #anti tom taylor #anti dickbabs

182 notes · View notes

sgiandubh · 3 months ago

Note

Yes. Toddlers are 3 and below. However this doesn't mean Sam doesn't know her as a friend nor mean he hasn't met her son, as they are friends, not dating. We all know they had lunch as friends, he cheered her at event as friend. Photos and video prove this. The park story is a story, no photos, no proof of any of it being real. Before you go there, yes video he and Caitriona had some hug/peck at a concert, but still no proof of marriage, nor romantic anything or intoxication. Believe what you want, beliefs aren't truths.

Dear Beliefs Aren't Truths Anon,

Congratulations, you have won the Weekly Audio bingo, since I am now speaking with more ease:

Excuse me, but... you accuse me of lying?

With such desperate arguments?

A question in return for you, Anon: did you, by any chance, grow up with a single/divorced parent?

I did. And while I have discussed at great length Sarah H's irresponsible ways of exposing her underage son to Internet's predatory scrutiny (and potentially worse), I can assure you:

No single/divorced mother would bring along her son for Hogmanay at some vague, single, male friend's house.

No single/divorced mother would send her son for a walk in the park, on a Sunday early (and chilly) morning with that same vague, single, male friend of hers.

Unless they date. Which we both agree they weren't.

The above are simply not done. Not ever, not in any culture on Earth.

So, if they are friends (as you say), that means you guys spent literally months in a row in empty, mendacious speculation about Nothing At All, triggered by the fanfic written by a troll. I mean, just WOW, Anon. I have no words: mature women, who have a life, peeking into a stranger's whereabouts. I hope you are proud of yourself!

And doll - I happen to believe they were mutually beneficial acquaintances, for a very clear purpose (more followers for her and a naive diversion from his real life, aka the Elephant in the Room, for him). That is all. Things have noticeably chilled since she overexposed her son on the Web, yet she might make a cameo later on the timeline, if desperation requires it. Happened before, you see.

And yes, I will always go back 'there', Anon, simply because I know what I saw with my own eyes (and I am not the only one). Also, you seem to fail making the logical difference between being intoxicated with alcohol (one of your side's most pathetic, ludicrous 'arguments' ever ) and being infatuated with someone. That is how I know your English vocabulary is as poor as your logic or common sense, Anon. And I am sorry, so fucking sorry to bother you, buttercup, but that Taylor Swift kiss was caught on video alright.

Thank you for confirming toddlers are aged 3 and below, in the meanwhile. And thank you for confirming that basically three months after I finally published that Park Anon I was sent (https://www.tumblr.com/sgiandubh/751391542332325888/i-always-read-the-comments-on-sams-posts-because), you are still as unsettled by it as on Day 1.

Now you tell me what that means, in your book, Anon. Because in mine that surely smells of slow burning despair.

[Later Edit, not on audio]: ah, yes, that friendly, ripe with innuendo London lunch. So long for that poor convenient imbecile, the Brazilian Journo, eh? She thought Sarah was his lover and here you are, Anon, bursting her post-teenage inacceptable bubble.

Wasn't she explaining with great impertinence that shippers were in need of immediate medical attention? I wonder what she would do if she'd meet me in an official capacity, really. Probably go hide and cry.

But this is great, Anon, I mean wow - you surely KNOW stuff, eh?

#anon #fandom #shitshow #Park Anon #weekly audio

85 notes · View notes

luvzshy · 2 months ago

Note

girl you’re really feeding us, thank you so much ❤️ love your writing

could you write about reader and billie surprising their daughter and picking her up at nursery? and billie being a proud mommy listening to her teachers? thankssssa

a/n: thank u babyyyy 💕💕

Surprise

The sun peeked through the leaves as you and Billie walked hand-in-hand to the nursery. It was a beautiful day, and the excitement bubbled within you both. Today was a special day, a day for surprises. You had decided to pick up Lily from nursery unexpectedly, something to brighten her afternoon and show her just how much she meant to both of you.

As you approached the entrance, Billie leaned closer and whispered, “Are you ready for this?” You could see the mix of nervousness and excitement in her eyes. “What if she’s not happy to see us?”

You chuckled softly. “Oh, she will be. You know how much she loves it when we surprise her.”

As you stepped into the nursery, the familiar sounds of children’s laughter and playful chaos enveloped you. You spotted Lily through the glass window, sitting on a colorful mat, completely absorbed in a craft project. She was carefully gluing pieces of paper together, her little tongue poking out in concentration.

Billie’s expression softened as she watched their daughter. “Look at her,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “She’s so focused.”

You nodded, feeling a swell of pride. Lily was growing so fast, and each day brought new surprises. The two of you stepped into the classroom, and Billie approached Lily’s teacher, quietly discussing your plan.

You took a moment to soak in the scene—kids giggling, paint splattered everywhere, and the smell of crayons in the air. The teacher smiled knowingly, giving you a nod of approval.

With the plan in place, you walked over to Lily, who was blissfully unaware of your presence. “Lily, what are you making?” you asked, kneeling beside her.

She looked up, her face lighting up as she recognized your voice. “Mommy! Look!” she exclaimed, holding up a paper flower decorated with bright colors.

“That’s beautiful, sweetie! You’ve been working so hard,” you said, genuinely impressed.

Just then, Billie joined in, crouching beside her. “I can’t believe how amazing that is! Can I have one for my desk at home?”

Lily giggled, her laughter infectious. “Okay, but you have to take care of it!”

As the teacher approached, you felt a rush of gratitude. “Miss Taylor, I just wanted to say how much we appreciate everything you do for Lily,” Billie said, her voice warm and sincere. “She’s learned so much from you.”

Miss Taylor smiled, her eyes sparkling with pride. “Lily is a joy to have in class. She’s incredibly creative and has such a big heart. She always helps the other kids, and her enthusiasm is contagious.”

You glanced at Billie, who was beaming with pride. Hearing her daughter praised was like music to her ears, and you could see the love radiating from her.

After a few more moments of chatting, you leaned in closer to Lily, a playful smile on your face. “Okay, kiddo, are you ready for a surprise?”

Her eyes widened with curiosity. “A surprise? What is it?”

“Let’s just say it involves snacks and a little adventure,” you said, glancing at Billie.

“Snacks? And an adventure?” Lily’s excitement was palpable as she bounced on her knees. “What kind of adventure?”

“Just wait and see,” Billie said, winking at you.

Once you left the nursery, you led her to a nearby park. The sun was warm on your skin, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves above you. You found a cozy spot under a big tree, perfect for your picnic.

As you set up the picnic blanket, you pulled out sandwiches, fruit, and cookies. Lily’s eyes sparkled as she recognized her favorites. “You guys really thought of everything!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands.

Billie watched Lily with a soft smile, her heart swelling with love. “Of course, we did. We wanted to celebrate you!”

As you all settled in, the conversation flowed effortlessly. You talked about Lily’s day, her friends, and the fun activities they had done. She animatedly recounted how she had helped a friend build a tower with blocks, her eyes shining with pride.

“You’re such a good friend, Lily,” Billie said, reaching over to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m so proud of you for helping others.”

Lily beamed, clearly relishing the praise. “I like helping! It makes me feel happy!”

As the afternoon unfolded, you noticed Billie watching Lily with an expression of pure love. There was something beautiful in the way she observed her daughter, absorbing every detail—the way Lily’s face lit up when she spoke, the way she animatedly gestured with her hands.

“Billie,” you said softly, nudging her. “Look at her. She’s amazing.”

Billie nodded, her voice thick with emotion. “I know. Sometimes I can’t believe she’s ours. I just want to make sure we’re giving her everything she needs.”

You smiled, feeling the weight of her words. “We’re doing our best, and she knows how much we love her. That’s what matters.”

As the sun began to set, painting the sky in shades of pink and orange, you felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude. This moment, this family you had created together, was everything. You glanced at Billie and Lily, both laughing and sharing stories, and your heart felt full.

This was what being a family was all about—finding joy in the little moments, celebrating one another, and making memories that would last a lifetime.

#billie eilish blurb #billie eilish fanfiction #billie eilish fic #billie eilish x fem!reader #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish x y/n #billie eilish x you #billie eilish fluff #billie eilish imagine

59 notes · View notes

er-osion · 9 days ago

Text

Cruel Summer

pairing: Kaz Brekker x gn!Reader

summary: A fic based on the song Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift. Reader is a Crow and has unfortunately fallen for their boss in the summer heat spell.

word count: 2.2k

warnings: none, fluff

you can see the full taylor swift song-fic masterlist here

⋄∘∗⋅⋆≁≁⋆⋅∗∘⋄

You always seem to forget how unbearably hot Ketterdam can get in the summer, especially during a heat wave. Your skin is sweltering and sticking uncomfortably to your clothes. The summer sun is bright and accosting, hanging high above your head in the clear blue sky. You greatly missed the typical overcast weather and fog. The Crow Club was just a few blocks away, all you had to do was hold on until you got there, and then you could collapse at the bar and scarf down an icy drink. The mere idea of a cool beverage put a weary smile on your face and added a pep to your step.

The Club was rather full for a weekday afternoon. However, it made sense that people would be wanting to beat the heat here. Entertainment, food, drinks, and a relatively cool space, you didn’t blame the ‘pigeons’ one bit. Even though you knew he hated the heat, Kaz was always happy to see the boom in business during heat waves like this. You shook your head defiantly. This has been happening lately. Kaz, your boss, had been popping up in your head as of late, and at the most unnecessary times. Suddenly you’d become concerned with his likes, dislikes, moods, health, and so on and it was bugging you as all get-out.

It’s not that you didn’t like Kaz, quite the opposite, you liked and respected him a lot. He is, dare you say, a friend. But you didn’t think about your other friends as often as you did your cane-wielding boss, and that is the issue. You know he’s not a good guy. Though, how could anyone be a good person in this city? He’s bad. He’s honestly nearly a bad friend too. But this knowledge of the obvious has done nothing to discourage your traitorous brain from drawing up images of the man at times when you should certainly be focused on something else.

You arrived at the Club and saw Jesper sitting at the bar clearly waiting for a drink from the bartender. A half smile crept onto your face and you snuck up behind him.

“Hey, Jes.” You said calmly from your sudden place right beside him.

Jesper jumped, “Holy shit, you have got to stop doing that.” Your gunslinging best friend put his hand over his heart, taking deep breaths dramatically as he settled back into his seat.

“No idea what you’re talking about,” You shrugged, feigning innocence. “How’s it going today?”

“I think I might just melt.”

“You wouldn’t be the first.” You nodded your head in solemn agreement and ordered a drink. You took a moment to look around the club. You were searching for someone in particular but decided to pretend you were just surveying the floor. “Have you seen Brekker at all?” You questioned without even thinking and as the words left your mouth you wanted to smack yourself.

Jesper’s lips slipped into a teasing smirk as he lay his head in his hands. “I saw him earlier. He was watching the club for a bit and then went up to his office. Why? Is there some job you need to discuss with him? Or are you just looking for some unpleasant company?” Jesper’s tone was goading as he watched your face closely for a reaction.

Your brows furrowed in annoyance and you rolled your eyes. “I was only wondering because I’m not used to not hearing his nags. Usually he’d have griped about something one of us did or didn’t do right and I’m just now realizing how strange it is to not have heard that already.”

Jesper hummed, and you couldn’t tell if he was convinced or not. “Well if you’re looking to sour your already lovely mood, I’m sure you can find him in his office.”

You scoffed and motioned to the bartender for another drink, but not for you this time. “I think I’ve had my fill of Jesper Fahey for the day. I’ll go make sure the boss man hasn’t melted into a puddle with his layered wardrobe.” You got up from your stool and elected to ignore the teasing comment the gunslinger threw your way as you shuffled through the crowd and toward Kaz’s office.

You knocked on the wooden door and waited a few seconds before cracking the door slowly and entering. You were going to say something as you entered the room but the words died on your tongue when you caught sight of your boss.

Kaz was sitting at his large desk, a gift you and the other Crows had all pitched in to get him two years prior. His eyes were focused intently on the stack of papers in front of him, and you noticed how his styled hair threatened to fall apart and into his face. His jacket was hanging on the back of his leather chair. The top buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned and the sleeves of the black shirt had been rolled up past his forearms. The sunlight was streaming in through the two windows in the room, illuminating all the dust floaties that typically annoy you but at the moment seemed magical. All in all, your brain short circuited.

You stood there for several seconds, unmoving, simply staring watching Kaz in all his glory.

“Did you need something?” Kaz’s gruff voice broke you out of your stupor.

“Just came to give you this, really.” You explained carefully, walking toward him slowly and setting his drink down on the edge of the wooden desk. Kaz eyed the drink suspiciously with a raised eyebrow. “It wouldn’t exactly be good for my paycheck if you died of heat stroke.” You supplemented.

“How heroic of you.” Kaz scoffed, unimpressed and put his attention back on the papers in front of him. You rolled your eyes and looked around the room.

You grabbed one of the chairs in front of your boss’s desk and dragged it quietly to the window. He hadn’t told you to get lost, and for some reason, there wasn’t anywhere you’d rather be than Kaz’s stuffy office, right now. You sat down and pulled a book from your bag. You took one last cautious glance at Brekker before settling down into your chair and picking up your book from where you’d left off.

You spent the next several hours like this. You wouldn’t have even noticed any time had passed were it not for the movement of your light source –the sun. Somehow, this moment felt so clandestine. There was something so unnervingly domestic in the hours you’d just spent together. So unnerving that it felt as if the whole thing was some deep secret the two of you must take to your graves in order to keep your peace. You gently closed your book, as it had become a strain on your eyes to read in the dim lighting. You looked up at Kaz and saw he was getting out of his chair. Brekker unrolled his sleeves and you found yourself missing the delicious sight of his veiny forearms. Control yourself, you begged internally. Kaz slid on his jacket and purposefully put all his papers away. Then he turned to you and gave you an expectant look that had your heart hammering in your chest.

“Time to go, then?” You asked rhetorically, getting up as well and re-shouldering your bag.

In truth, Kaz had originally planned on working in his office at the club for a few more hours. In fact, he had also been planning on doing another round of surveying the floor a couple of hours ago, but had not done so. At the time, he didn’t want to leave your company and now, didn’t want you hurting your eyes trying to keep him company. Kaz picked up the empty glass on his desk to drop off at the bar on your way out. It had been his favorite summer drink. When did you figure that out? Did you even know? Either way, Dirtyhands had enjoyed the beverage far more than he should have.

You and Kaz walked together down the cobblestone road from the Club to the Slat. A comfortable silence hung between the two of you. Night had fallen so the street lights provided the only cheap illumination of the uneven pathway ahead. The temperature was still hotter than you’d ever prefer, but there was a constant cool breeze that kept you from staggering under the hot heavy air. Kaz’s cane clicked rhythmically against the ground as the two of you meandered toward the Slat.

You risked a glance at the boy beside you and felt your breath catch. It wasn’t fair. How could someone look so pretty just existing? Everyone would surely laugh you out of Kerch if they heard you thought the infamous Dirtyhands was pretty. But it’s true, in the weirdest of ways, Kaz Brekker is very pretty.

“Is there something on my face?” Kaz probed suddenly.

“Huh?” You blinked in surprise at the unanticipated interruption of the fragile silence.

“I said; Is there something on my face? You’re staring.”

You felt your face heat up in embarrassment at getting caught ogling. “Yes, I was trying to figure out what it was. It’s right here.” You lied with confidence, pointing to a random spot along your chin to show where you’d found the invisible spot on his face.

Kaz’s eyebrows pulled together in confusion and offense, but brushed his chin anyway.

“There you go.” You reassured him with a lilt.

“That book you were reading earlier…” Kaz paused, for the first time in a long time seemingly unsure about his next words, “is it good?” His voice grew quieter at the end and your lips pulled into an excited grin.

You instantly began an enthusiastic ramble about your latest book. Describing in detail the plot and your favorite and least favorite characters with rapid hand motions. Kaz originally only watched you through short glances, but quickly he took to rapt attention. You had enthralled him. The Bastard of the Barrel gazed with uncharacteristic interest as you went off about the book, mentally taking notes about all the things you spoke about with increased passion. He decided right then and there that his first errand tomorrow would be to the bookstore. He was overcome with the unusual desire to engage you in an equally eager discussion about this book he’d previously never heard of.

Kaz drank in your form and felt his heart thundering in his chest. He was growing warmer, and he subconsciously knew the weather was not to blame. Against the dark backdrop of the night and draped in the honey-color lamp light Kaz Brekker was sure you were an angel. Rolling your eyes at the stupid decisions a character you were describing had made, Kaz felt his heart roll with you.

Kaz kept you engaged by asking further questions about the book, specific enough to tell you he’d been listening attentively. Your heart soared at this demonstration and your grin widened impossibly. Words could not describe the joy this boy was giving you in this moment.

And all of the sudden, like a rock slide, your minds hit both of you with possibly the scariest and worst realization.

I love you.

The words were heavy on your tongues, too heavy to convey. Those three life changing words were not uttered, but the mutual realization was rocking. And as if your minds were truly connected, the both of you immediately blamed the dreaded summer for this unexpected awareness of your own feelings. It was this cruel summer to blame, obviously. The characteristic heat and the light of summer that was so unusual for Ketterdam that it made it easier to romanticize things. It tricked you. Lightening the quintessential gloomy mood of the Barrel and erupting feelings not fit for the reality of this city.

But at the same time, maybe it wasn’t so bad. You were putting the pieces together and finally understood the real reason behind your recently pleasant mood. Falling in love with Kaz Brekker, the Bastard of the Barrel, may not be the smartest decision, but it was a decision that evoked the most wonderful feelings. Your skin was itching and butterflies danced in your stomach but you had no desire to get rid of them. You embraced them, because they were proof of your love for the young man beside you.

Kaz now understood why so many great novels were centered around love. Dirtyhands was slowly coming to the conclusion that his recent special interest in you was not without reason. And yes, it was terrifying. Yes, it was perturbing. But if this feeling is love –and he was unfortunately sure that’s what this is– then he can’t imagine trying to get rid of it. Kaz Brekker can no longer picture a life where he does not love you, and this picture is becoming less and less frightening by the minute.

You’re washed with elation when you notice the barest ghost of a smile gracing Kaz’s carved features. How can a man not be happy in your presence?

Summer can be awful. It can be uncomfortable. It can be agonizing. But it can also be a gift. Or rather, in the Barrel, it can come bearing gifts. Like the gift of loving someone who’s been by your side for many summers prior, and hopefully will be for many summers more.

#kaz brekker x reader #x reader #kaz brekker #kaz brekker x you #grishaverse #x you #six of crows #kaz brekker fanfic #kaz brekker fic #grishaverse x reader #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker fluff #song fic #taylor swift song fic #kaz brekker song fic

52 notes · View notes

bykshre · 9 months ago

Text

STILL WITH YOU ll 02

CHAPTER 02 // song - August, Taylor Swift

➥ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : CEO Jungkook x Head Of Department Y/N

➥𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 10,130

➥𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 : 7 years ago, you and jungkook broke up after a long-term relationship in high school and college. Never have you ever thought that one day, you would reunite with your ex-lover or the guy you once believed was the love of your life. What does fate hold for the both of you?

➥ 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞/𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐬 : exes to lovers, angst, slow burn, grumpyxsunshine, a second chance.

➥ 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 : M

➥ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : curses, alcohol, jk is fuckboy, unresolved emotions, trauma, extreme emotions, backstabbers... (not all of these are included in this chapter)

01 ll 02 ll 03 ll ongoing series

As the morning sun timidly seeped through the curtains, you reluctantly opened your eyes, greeted by the harsh reality of a pounding headache. The remnants of a restless night clung to your senses, and you groggily fumbled for the snooze button on the blaring alarm. As you reached for the snooze button, the weight of knowing you probably tainted Jimin's day with your usual tales of heartbreak settled heavily on your conscience.

You feel like shit right now because of your hangover though you do get up after swallowing 2 painkillers that were placed beside your bed with a glass of water. You are very grateful for having Jimin as your roommate- Jimin's angelic presence is a treasure you never want to lose from your life. He has given nothing but empathy, compassion, comfort, solace, advice and never-ending "big-bro" talk to you that you are very grateful for even though you may not show it and perhaps occasionally roll your eyes when he gives you the pep talks.

Realising it's almost 6.00 a.m., you hastily iron your classic pencil skirt and a pink blouse that had wrinkled up as you tend to be disorganised (sometimes) while you wait for the throbbing headache to subside. Working for JKH MedTech was great for you - your boss is a sweetheart elderly man you regard as your late grandfather. So arriving late wasn't going to be a big issue as your working space has always been filled with adoration, laughs and supportiveness in projects and every way.

You rarely arrive late as you have always been a morning person. You wake up at 4 in the morning every day... a pattern you've been practising since high school, something Jungkook very well knows. There's some undefinable feeling about waking up early, enjoying the tranquillity before the storm, finalising reports and relishing a cup of coffee in the morning.

Meanwhile, on the flip side of the city, Jungkook was waking up with a different kind of passion, barring the feelings he was going through last night and ready to conquer the day with a new project at JKH Tech. Something that he's been working on for years to finalize- to take over the CEO position and integrate JKH MedTech with JJK MedTech. Unaware of the parallel narratives unfolding.

7.00 a.m.

You step into the luxurious reception hall, where you are always welcomed and greeted nicely. The receptionist greets you with a warm smile while you greet them back. You enter the lift, and as the doors glide shut, you feel the subtle vibration signalling the ascent. The digital display above the doors blinks with each passing floor until it settles on the familiar number - 52. The lift slows to a halt, and as the doors part, you step out into your workplace, ready to face the day on the 52nd floor.

"Good morning, Y/N. Are you okay? I hope everything's alright because you rarely arrive this late." Your boss said with a concerned expression.

"Ah, not to worry, Jaehyun, everything's fine... just a little hangover." You laugh off.

"Today is going to be quite hectic as we're hosting our new merger for discussions and deals. Please refrain from pushing too hard on the new project for now, as there are more pressing office deals that require our attention. Additionally, I may need your assistance with a few tasks, given that this old man's brain tends to have its off days. For the time being, everything is to be kept under wraps, and we'll update you all once we've reached a conclusion. I hope that clarifies things."

You bid him goodbye with a good luck sign to wish him all the best in the negotiations and continue with your daily routine. You wonder what is going on behind the scenes with the negotiation deals. Nevertheless, you hope the company gets a good outcome.

7.30a.m.

In the back of a sleek black sedan, Jungkook absorbed a brief from his assistant while his driver navigated the city. Dressed sharply, he focused on the day's agenda of meetings and strategic moves. The luxury car moved through the urban landscape, carrying the anticipation of crucial decisions.

As he approached the entrance of JKH Tech, the glass doors slid open, ushering him into a realm where ideas took flight and were greeted by your very own boss, Mr Daehyun. Unbeknownst to him, on another floor of the facility, you were on your own trajectory, oblivious that your paths would intersect within the confines of the exact workplace.

To say the least, Jungkook was astonished with this company's architecture, formality and service. He has never stepped foot into this building before. This is because the previous negotiations have always been done at his own empire, JJK MedTech. Causing your boss to always have trips there. His presence today hinges solely on the fact that it's a deal-breaker moment. Intrigued by the place's reputation for fostering breakthroughs, he's here to witness its unique qualities and faculty firsthand.

As Jungkook makes his way up to the boardroom on the 53rd floor, a floor above you, he feels something in the pit of his stomach, a subtle shake that was indescribable forming. The elevator's ascent seemed to echo the rise of expectations, and Jungkook, momentarily captivated, couldn't quite pinpoint the source of the sensation. Nevertheless, despite the momentary distraction, he managed to shake himself out of it.

On the other hand, you were arranging and decorating the 53rd-floor main entrance just a few moments before your once-lover made it to the boardroom. Could that be why Jungkook experienced a subtle shift while navigating the building?

Whilst the boardroom was in the act, you and Jimin caught up at the nearby café. You felt excessively sorry knowing you tainted Jimin's day with your usual tales of heartbreak. Jimin's a gem - rare to find. His observance is the best part of him... he notices the slightest details and treats you well with unwavering love. One spontaneous Friday night, he surprised you with a box of dumplings after noticing your craving. Despite the hefty salary from JKH for your top-rated service and intelligence, he recognized your disciplined approach to saving money for the future. The act of bringing you the dumplings wasn't just about fulfilling a momentary desire but also a testament to his understanding of your priorities and a sweet reminder sometimes, it's okay to indulge in the present.

"Hey Jimin, I hope you didn't mind yesterday's drama. I'm genuinely sorry for whatever I unconsciously said...thank you for staying with me. I really appreciate your kindness." You said to Jimin while sipping on a cup of cold coffee.

"Y/n... I told you countless times that it's fine with me. You don't need to apologize, okay? Your sentiments are valid. I respect that." He said while enfolding you in his embrace. You both transmit the same admiration for each other and eternally will be there for each other under any circumstances. That's all that matters. "Thank you, Jiminie, I love you...forever."

"Madam Y/N, are you falling for this handsome man. OMG NEWSFLASH: Y/N HAS A CRUSH ON THE GREATEST OF ALL TIME, MOST HANDSOME MAN IN THIS WORLD, PARK JIMIN!!" He said teasingly.

"Shut the fuck up FuckBoy Jimin!" You laughed, playfully dismissing his teasing with a fond expletive.

The teasing and companionship come to a hasty halt as Jimin receives a call summoning him to the 53rd-floor boardroom. The same one in which the big bosses usually conduct influential business deals, which includes Jungkook today. The air shifted, and the lighthearted exchange gave way to a more serious atmosphere. Jimin is JKH's CEO's secondary assistant in business affairs... which doesn't require him to be involved in most deals or affairs. This was undoubtedly serious.

You both split as you ascended to the 52nd floor while Jimin continued his journey to the highest floor at number 53. You were definitely worried, not sure of the reason for what happened and how Jimin was involved. You are also worried about the outcome of JKH. Imagine having no idea of a deal, not knowing what's going on, everything kept hidden and away from the faculty. You choose not to listen to the rumour that the company is to be taken over or merged. You have worked with JKH for 6 years and have complete faith in them. Whatever that's finalized is their choice.

You distract yourself by occupying yourself with more work. The sounds of keystrokes and document fills the silence in the air. Despite the intensity of your focus, you couldn't shake the occasional glances at your phone, yearning for updates from the boardroom and the unfolding events.

The takeover discussions were a delicate dance, strategic manoeuvring of resources and power dynamics. Jungkook presence commanded attention, and sharp intellect was apparent in every estimated move. As Jimin sat in the boardroom hashing out deals, his eyes landed on Mr. Jeon. There was a sense of familiarity, just from Y/N's stories. Jimin tried to recall where he might've seen Mr. Jeon in Y/N's old pictures, but the details were a bit hazy.

3p.m.

As the negotiation peaked, Jungkook was officially pronounced as the CEO of JKH+JJK MedTech. A deal-breaking that produced a piece of revolutionary news in the medical technology world. JKH MedTech has been bought over after bagging a 900 Million dollar deal.

Amidst the corporate whirlwind, Jimin sensed a shift in his role, surpassing the boundaries of colleague and friend. As change rippled through JKH+JJK MedTech, Jimin found himself on the verge of unknown territory, contemplating the new chapters ahead alongside the newly appointed CEO, Mr Jeon.

As the news settled, Jimin found himself piecing together the puzzle of Jungkook's identity. Memories of Y/N's stories and glimpses from old pictures entangled, creating a clearer picture of the man. In quiet moments, Jimin reflected on the enigma that was Jungkook. He wondered about the experiences and motivations that led him to mastermind such an influential takeover.

The journey of unravelling the layers of Mr Jeon had just begun, leaving Jimin in anticipation of the implicit narratives that lay beneath the polished facade. Jimin decided to keep the newfound information to himself for the time being. Despite the revelations in the boardroom, Jimin doesn't want to immediately share with Y/N the significant role of her ex, Jungkook. Understanding the personal connections, Jimin decided to allow Y/N the space to process the changes without the immediate weight of this revelation.

As for Jungkook, he's satisfied with his pristine accomplishment. The year's worth of drudgery has finally blossomed, and he can't feel as satisfactory as he is now. Yet, there's more anticipation boiling in the pit of his stomach that there is still something else he's been yearning for, is here. Somehow, that sensation leads him to a scent. A familiar scent.

Little did he know, his ex-lover stepped into the main cubicle, the epicentre of daily activities, just a foot apart from the boardroom, to hand in a few reports. The only reason you made your way up to the 53rd floor was to hand in the monthly reports of your department. This was a monthly routine for all heads of departments, and you're not an exemption.

Jungkook convinced himself he was being delusional and shook the weird thoughts out of his brain. He coughed and continued his speech, "Good evening to all the staff and faculty involved in this deal. I would like to express my sincere appreciation for your hard work and dedication. As a token of gratitude, I've arranged a little gift for each of you. Keep an eye on your emails; you'll find details on how to redeem it there. Thank you once again for your outstanding efforts. Oh yes, don't worry, beloved staff. While I may be strict during work, there's nothing to worry about outside of that. Have a great day."

As the office continues to empty, Jungkook, the unannounced new CEO, decided to call it a day and head home . As he entered the same lift, he once again got reminded of a specific scent when he took a whiff of it. A detailed aroma of someone, something he had known for years. You took this lift down to your floor just 10 minutes ago. By this time, your perfume scent would've faded but, Jungkook found himself captivated by the familiar fragrance that still clung to the air.

The proximity of their paths remained unknown to both, setting the stage for an unexpected encounter that held the potential to redefine the narratives of their intertwined histories.

5. p.m.

Fuckboy 😘🙄😧

Let's go back home together

Wait for me in the lobby 😘

You couldn't help but giggle at the chat message from Jimin, especially with his enthusiastic use of the '😘' emoji.

"Hey Minie, how did it go? Is everything alright? Are YOU alright? What's the decision? SPILL NOW!" The rapid-fire delivery of your thoughts left Jimin in stitches, and unable to contain his laughter, he dropped to the floor.

"Whoa, dude calm the fuck down, can you? Everything went well. Oh yeah, great news: I didn't lose my job. Um... the entire news will be informed in a few days. Man, I don't even know anything. Don't fucking ask me! Also, when the fuck were you this concerned about me? It's hilarious, Y/N. And I think that you've actually got a crush on me." He replied. "Sorry man, I kinda think I'm falling for you too." You said with a flirtatious tone. Despite the uncertainties, Jimin held onto the hope that this connection, filled with genuine moments and laughter, could be the anchor that steered them through whatever twists lay ahead.

There was a reason why Jimin didn't want to tell you anything. He prioritises your feelings and past relationships; he doesn't want to ruin your undying sanity. He wants you to act maturely when the story of the new CEO unfolds. He doesn't want to ever be involved with his friend's issues and wants to protect their peace. In his actions, he sought to shield you from unnecessary stress and maintain the tranquillity within your circle of connections.

As Jungkook neared his car, he noticed Jimin, the CEO's second assistant, and the mysterious woman getting into a vehicle together. The quiet evening amplified the sense of mystery as the car doors clicked shut. The soft glow from the car's interior painted a silhouette of intrigue. Jungkook, unsure about the woman's identity, felt a twinge of curiosity. Despite the intrigue of the moment, Jungkook chose not to dwell on the bizarre encounter.

While you and Jimin enjoyed a satisfactory bowl of cold noodles at home to end the day. In the quiet solitude of his car, the contrast between the routine of the road and the mystery of the evening played out on Jungkook's features. A simple drive through the illuminated city became a backdrop for the swirling reflections within. Curiosity warred with caution, leaving him at a crossroads. The road ahead blurred with the glow of streetlights, mirroring the anticipation that hung in the air. Jungkook's feelings, like the city's rhythm outside, hinted at a story yet to develop in the tranquil corners of the night.

Although he felt satisfied with the day, there was a lingering void in Jungkook's heart. The achievements and triumphs didn't fill an emotional gap. Despite the city lights passing by, a subtle ache remained beneath his content exterior, yearning for something more.

10p.m.

While nestled in the comfort of your bed, your very own cocoon, with a journal in your hands, you penned down the details of your day and reflected on it wisely. The soft glow of your bedside lamp painted a tranquil setting as you poured your reflections onto the pages. Today caught you off guard with unexpected waves of emotion and flashbacks. No, you didn't want to be reminded of your ex. You didn't foresee navigating through today with a heavy soul. Everything about today reminded you about Jungkook, someone who you loved. You've never been as unhappy or heartbroken as you are today. In fact, you were never reminded of him ever since 6 years ago. It's just that for the past 2 days, you've been getting a lot of reminders of him, his presence with multiple indications.

Call yourself crazy... you swore to yourself you could smell him today. You felt his presence. When you went to the 53rd floor to hand in the reports, a distinctive scent of someone you used to know wafted through the atmosphere. Despite its subtlety, the lingering aroma clung to the surroundings, a nostalgic echo that left you wondering if the past had briefly brushed against the present. But then again, anyone else could have owned the same perfume. Maybe you are just overthinking.

"Hey crush, can I enter?" Jimin chuckles while making his way to you.

"Hmm, sure, min." you hum as he sits beside you. "So... what's this rare occurrence about? Don't you fuck yourself at this hour, Mr Perfect Sculptured Body?" you giggle.

"Nah, already did that. Just came to check on you today. You must be so tired...did you sleep well last night?" he asked with concern.

"Woke up a hangover, that's all. How was your day, Minnie? You must be extremely exhausted as well. Why don't you sleep early today? It will help you for tomorrow's journey... I heard you've still got some things to do tomorrow. Heard it from the gossip gang." you state.

"Yeah, I should. Take care, Y/N, goodnight. You only heard that from the gossip gang, right?" he asked you cautiously as he earned a hum from you.

At least he was relieved that you weren't aware of anything else circulating in the boardroom. While not everyone knew about your ex's presence, the fear of potential leaks regarding the boardroom matters, especially Mr. Jeon's unexpected appearance, still lingered in the air.

"Goodnight."

"Night."

"Hyung-ah, are you proud of me? I'm officially the CEO of JKH MedTech. That bastard definitely poured and sucked my whole energy today...he wanted a billion! Thank god I managed to negotiate! Anyway, I really don't know if I'm hallucinating or being delusional because I felt her presence today, her scent. My brain's kind of fucked now." Jungkook explained his day to his elder brother, Seokjin.

"Yeah, Kookie, I'm very proud of you...we all are. Jungkook-ah, listen to me, that perfume scent isn't just for her... she isn't the only one wearing it. It could be anyone using it. Please calm down, kook... I don't need you to be in this state. You are officially the CEO of JKH MedTech, soon to be JJK MedTech. You need to be focused and keep your priorities straight. I hope you understood my message." He says, earning a hum from his younger brother.

"Alright, Hyung. I feel like a complete idiot, don't I? Anyhow, I need you to come to my office tomorrow to transfer rights. I trust you completely to handle JJK MedTech. You've been the vice president for far too long; it's about time you take the reins as CEO." Jungkook explains to his elder brother that he can't retain the CEO position for 2 whole establishments. Therefore, Seokjin has been appointed to operate the main centre while Jungkook directs the newly bought/merged JKH MedTech.

As the night falls, Jungkook returns to the solace of his home, seeking comfort in the familiar. The soft glow of city lights casts an ethereal atmosphere. As he opens his sketchbook, the pages unfold an illustrated description of your relationship. His sketches capture joyous moments, frustration, and the undeniable chemistry that defines your connection. The inked lines on paper convey a tale of two souls entangled, steering the highs and lows of love.

Making his way to the window, Jungkook reflects on the city lights below. In the quiet moments, he confronts the ghost of arguments past, accepting the lessons learned and the maturation that emerged from the friction between you.

Morning arrives, bringing a fresh start for both Jungkook and you. Jungkook wakes up to the gentle sunlight filtering through his curtain. Meanwhile, on the other side of the city, you are already outfitted and glad to embark on a fresh day. The rhythmic buzz of the city's morning rush escorts you as you steer through congested streets and busy intersections. The scent of street vendors' offerings mingles with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee from nearby cafes, defining the city's morning rhythm.

As Jungkook prepares for his last day as a CEO at JJK MedTech, he prepares important documents to finalize the rights over JKH MedTech. Despite feeling saddened by the prospect of leaving the company – his own empire that he mightily built – Jungkook willingly embraces this decision, recognizing the necessity of this new chapter in his professional journey. He believes his role at JKH MedTech will be crucial in producing high-quality service and medical innovations.

"Kookie, you wanted to see me?" says the vice-president, Seokjin also known as his older brother.

"Yes, Hyung, I wanted to say a few things to you privately. How do I start? Your leadership has been a guiding force, shaping the company's success and also my own growth. Your wisdom, dedication, and genuine care for the team have left a memorable mark. I want to personally thank you for being more than a mentor and a brother. Your support has been unwavering, and I am grateful for the opportunities and insights you've shared. The trust you've placed in me has been a driving force in my journey here. I am no good when it comes to these types of talks but I hope you felt the sincerity conveyed." he says to his brother who is tearing up at his warm words.

"Thank you, Kookie. I appreciate your words. I adore you." says Seokjin while yanking his younger brother into a brotherly hug as Jungkook chuckles amusingly at his older brother's immature behaviour.

"Should we announce this news to the faculty now? Oh yeah, we have a farewell party at 5 tonight as well. Make sure to come with Jennie." Jungkook states.

While waiting for time to pass, Jungkook spends his hours wisely wrapping his desk items and cleaning the office. He silently chuckles at the picture of him and his brother at an amusement park that has always been placed on his desk. Little Jungkook was enthusiastic about roller coasters. Meanwhile, his elder brother was always screaming and hated roller coasters.

"What a stupid guy...he and Hobi Hyung are the same," he mumbled.

NEWS-PRESS 📰

MR. JEON, CEO OF JJK MEDTECH ANNOUNCED AS JKH MEDTECH NEW CEO.

JJK MEDTECH & JKH MEDTECH TO MERGE?

JKH MEDTECH BOUGHT OVER JJK MEDTECH BAGGING A 900 MILLION DOLLAR DEAL.

$900 MILLION SPENT TO TAKE OVER JKH MEDTECH

IS JKH MEDTECH SOON TO BE KNOWN AS JJK MEDTECH 2?

MR JEON LEAVES JJK MEDTECH EMPIRE AS CEO AS MR KIM TAKES OVER.

MR JEON: NEW CEO OF JKH MEDTECH.

WHAT IS THE FUTURE OF JKH MEDTECH AND JJK MEDTECH?

STOCKS RISE AS MR JEON RISES AS JKH MEDTECH'S NEW CEO.

"Are these headlines good enough, Mr Jeon?" asks the editor

"Good enough to me. Remember to release the covers and copies tomorrow." Jungkook states

"Ladies and gentlemen,

Today, as I stand before you with a charming mix of reflection and anticipation, I bid farewell to an extraordinary chapter of my journey. It's been a delight to share laughter, challenges, and triumphs with this exceptional community.

But before I dive into my farewell, let me extend my heartiest congratulations to someone who is not just a colleague but also my brother, Seokjin. With his charisma, wisdom, and a dash of undeniable charm, he's stepping into the CEO role with finesse. I have full confidence that under his leadership, our company is set to reach new heights. To my incredible colleagues and friends, thank you for being the heartbeat of this organization. Your passion and dedication have made this journey truly special. The camaraderie we've built is something I'll carry with me always.

As I venture into the next chapter, the excitement is palpable, and the gratitude is immense. The friendships formed here are not easily forgotten, and for that, I am truly thankful. To our clients, partners, and stakeholders, your trust and collaboration have been the driving force behind our collective success. In the spirit of gratitude, I extend my deepest appreciation to this remarkable team. Each of you has added a unique spark to this journey, and I am genuinely thankful for the shared moments.

So, as I say my farewells, let's carry the spirit of companionship and excellence forward. May your paths be paved with success and fulfilment.

Cheers, and let the good times roll!" Jungkook says with a charming smile.

He feels sad to leave the empire he has built on his by blood, sweat and tears for the past 6 years. Yet, within the corridors he departs, the indelible imprint of his journey remains – a lasting legacy in the company he nurtured into an empire.

"It's been a pleasure working with you, Mr Jeon. Till our paths align again," says Mrs Jung, his senior staff. "I hope you achieve the same success with JKH. I'm sure the faculty there will be delighted to have you as their boss. You are definitely a great person, inside and out. Don't be too harsh on yourself, okay? If you need anything, don't hesitate to reach out."

"Thank you, Hyunie. Your dedication to building this empire will always be etched in my memory. It's been an incredible journey, and your efforts have played a key role in our success." he says, earning a hug from his elder staff.

Amid the farewell, Jungkook finds himself surrounded by familiar faces, each representing a unique contribution to the success of the company. There are moments of laughter, heartfelt embraces, and even a few impromptu speeches from colleagues expressing their gratitude for Jungkook's leadership.

As the night progresses, the atmosphere shifts between nostalgia and anticipation. Jungkook navigates through the crowd, taking the opportunity to personally thank key team members, share a few more stories, and create lasting memories on this unforgettable night of transition. The air is filled with a combination of celebration, reflection, and the undeniable excitement of what's to come.

As the new day sets, you prepare to bid your boss goodbye and welcome your new one. As a symbol of appreciation for your boss, Mr Daehyun, the faculty and upper management decided to hold a farewell party for him. Same as Jungkook's case. It's a bittersweet feeling for you, especially. Daehyun has always treated you as his child, guided you when you first joined the company and stood up for you during hard times. You feel sad, particularly today, not only because this company has lost a piece of it but also because you are uncertain about future organizations and the new CEO's way of dealing with issues.

Nevertheless, you divert your overthinking mind to something to look forward to, the party. You are enthusiastic about the party as it hasn't been quite a while since the organisation arranged an event involving good food and liquors.

You chose a stylish yet relaxed getup that struck the right balance between professionalism and comfort. You wore a chic, ankle-length jumpsuit in a muted shade of burgundy, giving off an effortlessly sophisticated vibe. The jumpsuit featured a cinched waist, providing a flattering silhouette. You also paired the jumpsuit with fashionable ankle boots in a matching colour, adding a touch of trendiness to the outfit. You swept your hair into a loose, low bun, adding an element of laid-back elegance. A light coat of makeup accentuates your features, allowing natural beauty to shine through your face. In fact, you aren't that big of a makeup fan...that's why you always opt for simplicity.

"Wow, Y/N, you look... stunning," Jimin says as he is stunned at your look, simple yet elegant.

"Well, you aren't that bad either, you know? That black blazer looks very good on you," you say as you fix his tie that was placed crookedly.

"Do spare me a dance tonight, amour," he says as he brings your left hand to kiss it.

Hearing Jimin's words, a wave of warmth washed over you, a bittersweet reminder of times past. It was a peculiar sensation—comforting yet tinged with a hint of nostalgia. Jimin, with his knack for saying just the right thing, had unintentionally evoked memories of Jungkook.

It was how the words were delivered, perhaps—a certain sincerity, a depth you hadn't realized you associated so closely with your ex. These memories... long tucked away, surfaced softly, painting your thoughts with shades of what used to be. It was a gentle reminder of the connection you once shared with Jungkook.

"Sure, Minnie."

"Ladies and gentlemen, if I could have your attention for a moment. As we gather here today, I find myself reflecting on the incredible journey we've embarked on together. It's not every day that one gets to address such a talented and dedicated group of individuals at their own farewell party. From my very first day at this company, I knew I was part of something special. Your commitment, creativity, and passion have not only propelled our projects to new heights but have also made me a better leader and, more importantly, a better person.

I want to extend a special thanks to our heads of departments, including the remarkable Y/N. Your leadership, expertise, and unwavering support have been the backbone of our success. It is your vision and dedication that have steered this company through challenges and towards our achievements. Each of you has played a pivotal role in shaping the culture and future of our organization, and for that, I am eternally grateful. As I step down from my role, I do so with a heavy heart but also with immense pride. Pride in what we've achieved together and excitement for what the future holds for each and every one of you under new leadership. Change brings new challenges but also new opportunities, and I have no doubt that this team, guided by the strong leadership of our department heads, will continue to excel and innovate in ways we can only imagine.

To everyone, thank you for your support, your hard work, and the countless memories we've created. It's been an honour to lead such an exceptional team, and I leave knowing that the legacy we've built together is in capable hands. Remember, the end of one chapter marks the beginning of another. Let's embrace this transition with optimism and continue to support each other as we move forward. To conclude, I'm not just saying goodbye; I'm saying thank you. Thank you for the laughter, the late nights, the successes, and even the setbacks, for they have all contributed to the extraordinary tapestry of our time together. As I embark on this new chapter of my life, I carry with me the lessons learned and the friendships forged here. I look forward to seeing all the incredible places you will go and the remarkable things you will do.

Here's to new beginnings, to the future, and to all of you, especially our heads of departments who have shown such remarkable leadership and commitment. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. Cheers!" says Mr Daehyun

"Cheers! We will miss you, Dae," you say

As the party progresses, you and your best friend, Daisy, stick to each other, finding comfort in each other's presence. You both catch up regarding personal life and management gossip. You hum at her yapping for the past hour, constantly spilling information and 'tea'. You love her so much. She's the sincerest friend you ever had- you treasure her. Partly also because she's straight-up frank and has an unfiltered sass.

"This new boss... I've no clue about his name. He never mentions his name! All what I know is that his name is Mr. Jeon... nothing else. It's fucking weird! But he's definitely drop-dead gorgeous his body... oh my goodness!"

"Mr Jeon?" you say, partly shocked. Your voice carries a mix of surprise and disbelief, echoing slightly in the crowded room as you address the familiar name. Internally, you battle with a rush of memories and emotions, the name 'Mr Jeon' acts as a stimulus that brings your past vividly to the forefront of your mind. The logical part of you attempts to downplay the significance, reminding yourself that 'Jeon' is not an uncommon surname. It could be a coincidence, another person entirely unrelated to your past. Yet, the small, hopeful, or perhaps apprehensive part of you can't help but wonder if fate has decided to weave your paths together once more.

You don't know anything about him. You've blocked him everywhere for the past 6 years. You've got no clue about him... at all. You don't know what he's up to, you don't know what he works as, you don't know if he has managed to chase his dream, you don't know.

"Care to join me on the dance floor?" says Jimin as he shakes you out of your thoughts

"Yes... of course, Min."

As the evening unfolds into a lively affair, Jimin extends his hand towards you, a silent invitation to join him on the dance floor. With a mixture of excitement and slight nervousness, you accept, placing your hand in his. The music, a gentle yet upbeat melody, sets a perfect backdrop for this moment. You find yourself caught up in the joy of the moment, your steps syncing with his as if you've done this a thousand times before. Around you, the party continues, but in this bubble of space on the dance floor, it's just you and Jimin sharing laughs and steps, the rest of the world momentarily forgotten.

"Thanks for the dance, Minie, I loved it."

"No worries, Y/N, enjoy this night to your fullest, okay? The future's never certain. I'm always here for you if you need anything."

In Jimin's words, he's subtly hinting about your ex, whose presence is soon to be inevitable.

Actually...Mr Daehyun invited Jungkook to the party to introduce himself and get a golden opportunity to observe and engage with the team in a less formal setting, allowing him to estimate the dynamics and morale of the workforce he would soon direct. But Jungkook kindly declined his offer as he wanted the company to enjoy their last day with their old boss instead of seizing the limelight instantly.

"Yeah, Minnie, I appreciate it."

While you were enjoying the party, Jungkook, on the other hand, was preparing for his upcoming arrival at JKH tomorrow. He meticulously reviewed the resumes of the upper management, containing directors and heads of departments – a list that prominently featured your name.

As you and Daisy make your way into the lobby, the air crackles with suspense. The receptionist informs you both about the day's crucial agenda, highlighting a morning brief and an introduction session by the new CEO, Mr. Jeon. The mere mention of the new CEO sends a wave of curiosity and speculation through the employees gathered in the lobby.

"I wonder what is the new boss up to today..."

"Same, don't know shit about him though fuck man, I would salivate at the sight of his body."

"Shut the fuck up, seriously! This is not the moment for your fangirling, especially when it's about your boss!" you say, earning a chuckle from Daisy.

As you make your way up to the 52nd floor, you're instantly informed of a meeting with the CEO at his office along with the upper management. This action was unexpected, to say the least. What is his plans? What does he want? Not that you are afraid of questions, you've always aced them - it's just the anxiousness building in the pit your stomach. You hope you're able to produce a good first impression.

While waiting for the meeting, you run a few tests in the lab alongside your more senior Pharmacovigilance Specialists to check the effectiveness of the latest drug and compile information on the volunteer's medical reports- to check their history before they can proceed with the new tests. The hum of the lab equipment accompanied your concentration as you delved into the intricate world of medical research.

As Jungkook gracefully entered the office, he responded to each greeting with a generous smile, exuding an air of professionalism that effortlessly commanded attention. His presence created an atmosphere tinged with both intrigue and respect. The unspoken acknowledgment of the attention he was given only added to the riddle surrounding the new leader at JKH Tech.

"Good morning, Mr. Jeon. I'm Jimin, your second assistant. I will be helping you today since the first assistant is on medical leave. Please let me know if you require any help or inquiries. As for today, we have no plans, only the briefing with the upper management as you requested." says Jimin with a welcoming smile

"Morning, Jimin. Thanks for the help. Um... could you help me in the office? I need to flip through the faculty profile and projects before I continue with the meeting. Please send an email to everyone stating that there will be a welcome dinner at 6 later. Formal attire."

"Sure, Sir."

As Jimin and Jungkook delved into discussions about ongoing projects and faculty profiles, the air in the room crackled with a blend of professionalism and the anticipation of getting to know each other. Jimin, fluent and well-versed in the daintiness of the projects, presented detailed information with a hint of pride in his contributions.

Jungkook listened attentively, absorbing the information and forming impressions of Jimin's expertise. The subtle undercurrents of their professional relationship were still in the early stages, with each project update serving as a stepping stone for a potential connection.

"I must say, you've got a brilliant way of explaining things, Jimin. The projects seem good so far. Could you tell me about any success stories within the team? Are there instances where someone played a pivotal role in achieving a milestone?"

"Sure, though there are quite a few of them, I'll share the recent one. Our most significant breakthrough was with Miss Y/N, the head of immunology/microbiology. Y/N played a pivotal role in a groundbreaking project where we explored innovative approaches to enhance the body's immune response. Her sharp insights and strategic thinking paved the way for the development of a novel immunomodulatory drug currently in the advanced stages of clinical trials. This experimental medicine, tentatively named Immunovita-K, holds great promise in revolutionizing the field. Immunovita-K aims to modulate the immune system with precision, offering targeted responses to various pathogens. The potential applications extend from bolstering vaccine responses to exploring novel therapies for autoimmune disorders and infectious diseases." says Jimin with a proud face

As Jungkook spoke, his eyes lingered on the project details, but the mention of Y/N added a layer of sentiment to his words. "Miss Y/N's contributions are truly commendable," he repeated, a touch of pride evident in his voice. "Immunovita-K seems to hold immense potential, and the dedication of our head of department is evident in the success of this project."

A flicker of nostalgia passed through Jungkook's gaze, memories of shared moments playing like a muted film in the background of his thoughts. He leaned back in his chair, a subtle smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he continued, "It's clear that Y/N's expertise has played a pivotal role in steering our team towards success. I'm eager to see how Immunovita-K unfolds in the upcoming stages of the clinical trials."

"Her dedication to Immunovita-K has been exceptional, and the team is thrilled to have her leadership. If you'd like me to discuss any specific aspects or details with her, please let me know."

For Y/N, who continued her work in the lab, the boardroom discussions remained distant, yet the threads connecting her to the unfolding events tightened with each passing beat.

Your lab work comes to a halt as you are reminded of a meeting from your phone alarm, clearly stating a new event in your schedule. In that brief moment of transition, you couldn't help but feel the weight of the impending encounter. What is even making you this nervous? You've never experienced anything like this before.

"Hey, let's go, it's time."

"Let's go, Daisy. Let's see if the boss is really as hot as you described him to be," you chuckle.

You're grateful to have Daisy and Jimin with you, actually. They stand by your side as colleagues and as pillars of support in your journey.

"Oh boy, you'll see."

"Daisy, I think you really need to shut the fuck up, especially during a meeting, okay? Y/N, how do you even bear with her? Fucking loud-mouth!" Jimin says frustratingly, earning a glare from Daisy.

"Both of you, behave!"

"Ok, mom." X2

As the anticipation builds in the meeting room on the 47th floor, you find yourself scuffling with an unexpected tide of anxiety, a feeling you can't quite identify. Fidgeting with your phone, you reflect on the notes for basic introductions, trying to ground yourself in the familiarity of prepared information.

The atmosphere intensifies as the upper heads start to increase. But it's the arrival of the new CEO that catches you off guard. When Jungkook enters the room, your eyes widen in an unpretentious shock. His presence which was once a distant memory, now stands before you in this moment. The realization hits, sending a jolt through your system, and for a moment, time seems to pause as you process the unexpected reunion.

No, you are not afraid of him.

Navigating this emotive turbulence is an unknown territory for you. It's not anger or sadness that shakes your core, but rather an overwhelming surprise. Crossing paths with someone you once held as a lover has stirred a disruption of emotions within you. You never entertained the thought that you would have to grapple with such sentiments. It's a collision of past and present, a meeting with a version of your history that you thought was neatly tucked away.

Jimin's reassuring smile became a beacon of support. His silent message, a simple "it's okay," resonated across the room, providing you with a comforting assurance that you aren't alone.

Jungkook, on the other hand, remains composed, his stoic expression giving away little. His eyes briefly meet yours, a subtle acknowledgement that seems to carry a weight of unspoken history. Unfazed by the surprise in the room, he takes his seat with an aura of authority.

"Ladies and gentlemen, good morning. I trust this early gathering has piqued your curiosity. Let me assure you, this is not a harbinger of impending trouble. As your new leader, I find it imperative to acquaint myself with the esteemed members of our upper echelons. Effective communication within our ranks is paramount. I invite each of you to present yourselves and provide insights into your respective departments. The floor is yours."

Intrigued, you can't help but secretly check him out as he settles in. His more robust and defined physique doesn't escape your eyes. A brief moment of eye contact adds more tension to the room, and you find yourself momentarily captivated by the mysterious aura he exudes.

As introductions unfold, Jungkook's conduct remains cold and businesslike. Yet, beneath that icy exterior, there's a real undercurrent of something more, a subtle shift in the atmosphere. When it's your turn to present, you maintain professionalism, describing your department and highlighting your innovative breakthrough research. This includes your recent development of a novel immunomodulatory drug.

Though Jungkook's expression remains stoic and cold, a burst of pride blooms through his chest, acknowledging his once-lover achievements secretly. If he could, he would've been clapping at your introduction. But he doesn't.

As the meeting progresses, you can't shake the sense of a shared history flowing in the air. Every interaction and exchange carries the weight of unspoken words and unresolved emotions. The once-familiar face now wears the mask of a stranger, and the clash between the past and the present adds an extra layer of complexity to the professional setting.

Jungkook's cold and distant approach doesn't go unnoticed, leaving you to grapple with a mix of confusion, curiosity, and a subtle undercurrent of unresolved feelings. The meeting becomes a battleground of emotions, each word and gesture a silent echo of a shared history that neither of you is ready to confront.

"Thank you all for your insightful introductions. I am truly impressed by the display of leadership and the remarkable breakthroughs within your respective departments. It's my pleasure to announce that we have a welcome party scheduled for tonight at 7, generously sponsored by me. Attendance is mandatory, and I look forward to further interactions and collaborations among the faculty. You are all dismissed." he says, ending the once-was, nerve-wracking meeting.

As the meeting wraps up, the air in the room crackles with unspoken tension, and you find yourself eager to escape the confined space. The reunion with Jungkook, unexpected and emotionally charged, leaves you yearning for a moment of solitude to process the whirlwind of emotions that now defines your professional landscape.

As you step out of the meeting room, your eyes intrinsically meet Jungkook's. At that moment, a whirlwind of unspoken emotions seems to pass between you two. The air crackles with tension as the weight of the past collides with the present, leaving you both suspended in a moment that holds more than words can convey.

"You knew?" you asked Jimin

"Y/N, I didn't know who he was until I recognized his face from your old pictures. I did not want to ruin your mood, and neither did I want to interfere between both of you. You both are old enough to be mature, to talk and to deal with things. I know it hurts. I know you both shared history, but you've got to deal with it now. He is your boss. You are going to see him very often, and by that, I mean for five fucking days per week! You can't just give up like that, you know?"

He acknowledges the complexity of the situation, emphasizing that he doesn't want to shatter your peace by revealing Jungkook's identity right away. His words underscore the reality of the professional dynamic you now share with your ex-lover, urging you to confront the inevitable and find a way to navigate this new chapter in your life.

"How, Jimin, how?" you sob,

Deep beneath your heart, the currents of conflicting emotions swirled. The unexpected encounter with Jungkook, now your boss, sent ripples across the surface of your composed exterior. Unresolved feelings, memories, and the stark reality of having to navigate a professional relationship with your past lover created a turbulent undercurrent within you.

You gasp.

"He already knew about me, didn't he? Was that why he wasn't surprised at the sight of me? For fucks sake!"

"Hey peeps soo-"

"What happened, Y/N? You good?"

"Yeah, I am. Don't worry!"

"She's fine, Daisy." Jimin chimed in, shooting you a reassuring glance.

You kept your emotions in check, not revealing the details of your past with Jungkook. Daisy, unaware of the complexities, carried on with her usual enthusiasm, avoiding any probing questions.

"Yow bitch, you ready? Let's get wasted tonight!!"

"My goodness, Daisy!"

"Let's get wasted tonight, people!" you chuckle

You've reflected. You've thought about this situation multiple times today and decided to let things go with the flow. It might be rough to see your ex's face daily for 5 days in a row but you've told yourself you'd get used to it. It's been six years, and both of you have matured. The old memories resurface in the present, and there's no way to push them back.

Yeah, he totally broke your heart. You've broken his heart too.

You were manipulated, he was... everything was. The only thing you didn't know was the truth.

He found out, eventually.

"Alright, let's capture this moment," you say with a smile, bringing Jimin and Daisy into a friendly embrace. The camera captures the trio, frozen in a snapshot of companionship. Jimin flashes his signature grin, and Daisy, always the lively one, throws a peace sign.

As the shutter clicks, you feel a mix of emotions. The impending encounter with Jungkook lingers in your mind, but for now, you choose to focus on the present, cherishing the bonds you share with your friends. The photograph becomes a tangible memento, a reminder of a day filled with laughter, shared stories, and the warmth of companionship.

You decide to make a bold yet elegant statement for the formal party hosted by Jungkook. Choosing a floor-length gown, the dress hugs your curves in all the right places, showcasing your silhouette. The rich, midnight blue fabric is adorned with subtle sequins that catch the light, adding a touch of glamour to the ensemble.

The gown features a daring thigh-high slit, revealing a glimpse of your toned leg with every step. The back is open, adorned with delicate crisscross straps that add an alluring detail. The neckline is a modest V-shape, offering a sophisticated balance to the sultry elements of the dress.

Completing the look with a pair of strappy heels that accentuate the length of your legs, you opt for minimal accessories to let the dress take centre stage. A sleek updo and a hint of smoky eyeshadow add a touch of allure to your overall appearance.

As you enter the party, heads turn, and whispers of admiration follow you. The dress, with its combination of elegance and sensuality, ensures you stand out in the crowd, making a lasting impression on the attendees, including the mysterious CEO himself, Jungkook.

He was allured by your aura. Your thigh-high slit, open back, and V-shape neckline left him momentarily breathless. Jungkook, usually composed, felt a subtle warmth as he observed your confident entrance, appreciating the sophisticated yet attractive choice that seemed to enhance your natural magnetism.

As you entered the venue, your eyes instinctively scanned the room, landing on Jungkook, who was already present. Clad in a tailored black suit that hugged his broad shoulders and sculpted physique, the crisp lines accentuated every contour. The jacket was left slightly unbuttoned, offering a glimpse of his chiselled chest and well-defined abs.

"Managed to get the CEO's eyes on you, huh?"

"Daisy, it's nothing. I don't even find him attractive."

"Ok, liar!!"

"Shut up bitch, let's go find some fancy booze here," you say, earning an enthusiastic "lesgooo" from your best friend.

You were lying, actually. His magnetic aura captured your attention. He's changed but still is the same in so many ways.

"Omg, this champagne is so good! What brand is this man? I need to get this," Daisy says, half-drunk.

"Ask the bartender, asshole."

"Ouch, that hurt. Could you be kind to me for a day, at least?" Daisy says with a pout

"Screw y-"

Jungkook raised his glass, the gentle clinking sound echoing through the room, signalling the attention of the attendees, including you. The ambient chatter gradually subsided as all eyes turned toward the newly appointed CEO. The room fell into a hushed anticipation, awaiting Jungkook's words.

"Good evening, everyone. I want to express my sincere gratitude for joining us tonight to celebrate not only the success of our organization but also the incredible individuals who contribute to its growth. As we embark on this new chapter, I am thrilled to lead a team of exceptional talents."

Jungkook's speech was a blend of confidence, capturing the essence of the moment. His eyes scanned the room, occasionally locking with yours, perhaps a subtle acknowledgement of the intertwined past.

"To the future and the limitless possibilities it holds. Cheers!" Jungkook concluded, raising his glass higher, and the room erupted into applause, toasting to the endeavours that lay ahead.

As Jungkook gracefully moved through the crowd, engaging in conversations with each employee, you couldn't help but observe his interactions. His charm seemed effortless, a blend of charisma and authority that captivated those around him. You maintained a watchful eye, observing the way he navigated through the room, occasionally catching glimpses of familiar smiles and nods.

"OH MY GOODNESS, HOTTIE BOSS INCOMINGG"

As you looked behind, you noticed Jungkook making his way to your group of friends, one of the last few left. Jungkook's gaze met yours as he neared, and there was a subtle acknowledgement that passed between you. You braced yourself for the encounter.

You've got to admit he's quite a charm... you've been observing his actions and behaviour since ever and least to say, you're impressed with his social skills.

"Hello, gorgeous ladies! May I introduce myself a little?" he said, earning a chuckle from your friends.

He extended a hand for a handshake, greeting each of your friends.

"I'm Jungkook, what's your name?"

"Daisy. Research Department!"

"Lovely!"

"Serena Woo. Clinical research associate."

"Nice!"

And when he reached you, he smiled, "Y/N, it's been a while."

You felt a shiver down your spine as he uttered your name. A mixture of nostalgia and apprehension clouded the air. Jungkook continued, "I hope you're enjoying the party. It's good to see you again."

You managed a polite smile, "Likewise. Congratulations on becoming the CEO."

He nodded, "Thank you. It's been a journey. We should catch up sometime."

The conversation lingered, an undercurrent of unspoken history swirling beneath the surface.

Jungkook shifted his attention to your friends, smoothly blending into the ongoing conversations. As he engaged with each person, you couldn't help but watch the charisma he effortlessly exuded. Memories flashed before your eyes, of a time when his charm was directed solely at you.

Despite the festive atmosphere, an unspoken tension lingered. You grappled with conflicting emotions—curiosity, awkwardness, and a hint of longing. Jungkook's presence stirred a complex mix of feelings, and you wondered how this unexpected reunion would reshape the dynamics of your professional life.

Daisy, with a playful glint in her eye, decided to try her luck with Jungkook.

Daisy: "If you were a vegetable, you'd be a cute-cumber. What do you say, Mr. Jeon?"

Jungkook, maintaining his composure, responded with a small smile: "Well, that's a unique one. I appreciate the creativity."

You caught between amusement and mild discomfort, couldn't help but chuckle at Daisy's bold attempt. The interaction added a light-hearted touch to the evening, momentarily diffusing the underlying tension.

As your laughter reached his ears, Jungkook couldn't help but notice a subtle shift in the atmosphere. A genuine smile played on his lips, and to your surprise, a pair of dimples made a fleeting appearance on his cheeks. It was a subtle detail. In that instant, you couldn't help but feel a peculiar sense of intimacy, as if his dimples whispered a silent acknowledgement of the shared history between you.

"Hey, y'all! How's it going? Hello, Jungkook, glad to see you here!" Jimin chimes in

"Good Minnie, just chugging on fancy booze." you chuckle as you lean into Jimin's embrace.

Jimin laughs along with you, enjoying the light banter. "Well, if it's fancy booze, count me in!" he playfully declares, raising his glass in a toast.

Jungkook, with his characteristic stoicism, joins the conversation. "It's a lively atmosphere tonight. Everyone seems to be enjoying themselves."

You nod, taking a sip of your drink. "Yeah, Jungkook, you've thrown quite the party. It's nice to see everyone in a more relaxed setting."

Jungkook's gaze momentarily lingers on you, his expression unreadable. "Glad you think so. I wanted everyone to unwind a bit."

You're shocked, to be honest. You never expected Jungkook to act the way he is right now. After what happened between you two, you swore you'd never talk to him again. Yet, fate reunites you in a tricky situation where even seeing him is inevitable. Expecting a cold and detached encounter, you contemplate whether age has genuinely brought about maturity or if his professionalism is merely a shield for the shared history between you two.

"You cool?"

"Yeah, I guess so. He's different. Totally different now. He's so mature now... I never saw this side of him. We had a fucking disastrous relationship... obviously, I wasn't there to see him grow and develop to be a successful man." you say

"You've got this babe. I got your back."

"Oh yeah, Jiminah, could you not tell Daisy anything about us? I just don't want to make things awkward, you know?"

As the party nears its end, you all decided to call it a night.

"Goodnight, everyone. It was a pleasure meeting you all," Jungkook says with a polite nod.

"Goodnight, Mr. Jeon," your friends chime in.

As Jungkook turns to leave, he looks directly at you, his gaze lingering for a moment. "Goodnight, Y/N. Take care," he adds, his tone carrying a subtle weight, leaving you with a mix of emotions and unspoken thoughts.

As you, Jimin and Daisy make your way out, Jimin whispers, "That was something, huh?"

You nod, the encounter with Jungkook still fresh in your mind. "Yeah, unexpected."

Daisy interjects, "Well, it's just the beginning of many encounters with the new CEO. Get used to it, Y/N! He's so fucking hot man, take it allllllllllll-" She laughs, trying to lighten the mood.

In the quiet solitude of your room, you found yourself grappling with an indescribable feeling. It was as if the encounter with Jungkook had reignited a spark within you that you thought had long been extinguished. Instead of the anticipated anger or sadness, there was an unexpected warmth spreading through your chest.

You pondered over this sensation, questioning why the presence of your ex-lover, now the CEO, had this peculiar effect on you. It was as if the past, present, and future were colliding in a way you couldn't articulate. The once-familiar emotions that you had locked away seemed to be resurfacing, bringing with them a mix of nostalgia and an unspoken yearning.

The memory of his built frame, those broad shoulders and defined muscles, played on a loop in your mind. The subtle tension in his jawline, the way his suit clung to him, highlighting the contours of his body – it was impossible to dismiss the striking change from the boy you once knew to the commanding man he had become.

Despite the mixed emotions and the undeniable history between you two, there was an unspoken acknowledgement of the physical presence that still resonated between you. The encounter had stirred not only memories but also a heightened awareness of the person Jungkook had evolved into – a man whose formidable presence demanded attention, leaving an imprint that you couldn't easily shake off.

As you lay in the quiet darkness, you wondered if this was a mere reaction to the unexpected reunion or if there was something more profound at play. The spark, however indescribable, left you with a sense of anticipation, a feeling that hinted at the possibility of uncharted territories in the days to come.

"Yow, bad bitch, what are you thinking about?"

"Jimin, I-"

"Jimin, I feel... something I haven't felt in so long."

and, suddenly, her spark reignited.

a/n: Oh my goodness! It's finally out!! Thank you to everyone who waited patiently for this to come out, I appreciate it. I wanted y'all to have the best version <3 I didn't find/stick with the characters I had in my mind a year ago and I felt we needed a much more mature version of the MCs and I'm happy to say that I'm very pleased with this outcome! Love yall!

please like and share to support! + comment to be added to the taglist

#bts jungkook #jeon jungkook au #reader x jeon jungkook #still with you #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #bts au #ff #jungkook jeon

111 notes · View notes

crumblinggothicarchitecture · 7 months ago

Note

I read your fake smart-girl coded Taylor Swift post. Ended up on my feed because it was tagged philosophy. It was long enough that I caught a few words and actually read it. Honestly thought it was satire until I read your answers to other people.

I do not care about TS. But I do care about philosophy. You have a degree in it ? Funny, I have one too. You've read Aristotle ? I did too. But did you read though ? Did you really get into philosophy, and heard what the people you, I'm sure, can quote really well, actually said ? Because what it looks like, is that you got a degree in philosophy, but did not get philosophy at all. What makes me say that ? Your attitude, and that paragraph :

"Also, for the record, I don't think Taylor Swift knows anything of substance about Aristotle. I, on the other hand, took a three-hour long oral exam over Aristotle's life work while out-of-my-mind-high on Dayquil and pain meds after a surgery. I got an "A", and, somehow, I lived through that, I doubt the validity of Swift's claims to know anything at all about philosophy. Especially, considering how all her songs are about as deep as a puddle. "

Sounds like you're here to show off, and to make yourself look like something, without having a clue what it means to have the inclination of a philosopher. Or you know what it means, and you've lost it somewhere along the way.

If you've studied philosophy, and actually took time to read and understand the words of philosophers, you know not one of them would condone your attitude, the way you use their names, the way you're making your arguments. Having an A for an exam on Aristotle does not guarantee that you'll be able to make good arguments for the rest of your life. Nor does it guarantee that you understand his work, or are good at philosophy. It just means that, at one point, on a very specific part of Aristotle's work, you had enough knowledge to be rewarded with a good mark. It stops there. It does not mean anything else. Even if it was for your master's thesis. Sure, you know more than TS about philosophy and she fakes knowledge in her songd, but is showing off your grade and putting yourself as the center point of your argumentation the best way to convey that message ? No. You're trying to put her down by putting yourself above others. To anyone with a sense of philosophy, it just looks like you're a student who never understood the works he/she read, and focused on grades and others' approbation instead.

You care about your degree ? Re-read the books and make use of your ability to understand them. Not as a way to show off, but as a way to lean into the attitude a philosopher might have.

You write posts using philosophy ? Make it palatable to others, and show its uses. Be humble. Same thing for literature. The people whose books you read, they want knowledge to be spread. Studying philosophy should have, at the very least, helped you see that. The degree you got is here to push you to continue doing what all previous philosophers and writers did before you got to read them. Otherwise, your degree serves no purpose, other than satisfying your ego. At least, that's how it looks in that post.

Anyway, it'd just be nicer if you used your degree to show the benefits of philosophy, rather than to stroke your ego. Think about Socrates for a while. He asks questions, he makes simple arguments, he rarely talks about himself, he wants others to learn. That's the idea. Not showing off. Not being an ass to a girl you've never met. But being open for discussion, and make sound arguments, for others as well as yourself. What was the point of you fixating on the misuse of 'soliloquy' ? What did it bring to others ? And your anger towards TS, why ? Why write a whole post about it, shove it in her fans' face, what's the point ? Did anyone get anything positive from that ? And why bring your degrees and grades into the mix ? Anyone can make an informed and sound argument, even without a degree. What did it give you to say all those things ?

Fyi, I was taught philosophy in France. I know people in America and the likes get taught philosophy differently than how its done here. Wouldn't be surprised if there was a cultural difference in the way we understand the discipline. I've got a master's degree in the subject, and six years of study under my belt, if that matters to you. Was top of my class also. And I've lived with a philosophy teacher for eight years, too. In case you try saying I have no place speaking about philosophy the way I do.

There is barely anyone who gives a damn about philosophy. You're one of the few who cared about it enoigh to study it. Make good use of your degree, and don't be an ass to others.

Let me give you a piece of my mind, because, honestly, my dear friend, what are you doing?

Is this some kind of moral flex in which you prove to be the better person because you’ve never implied that there’s no way a certain person knows anything about Aristotle? You want to seem like the better person, because I took one single cheap-shot at Taylor Swift’s intelligence amid a full literary explanation as to why she is using a specific term wrong? Are you joking? You want to call into question my entire education? Because I said Taylor Swift is not as “deep-thinking” as she claims? Okay, yeah... you’re right I guess that makes my entire education invalid. My bad. I’ll go rip up my degrees.

First of all, let’s address your arrogance. You write, “Sounds like you are trying to show off, and to make yourself look like something, without having a clue what to means to have an inclination as a philosopher” (para.4) in response to me saying Taylor Swift probably doesn’t know anything about Aristotle. Yeah, obviously that line is a quick jab at Taylor Swift. So, what? Am I writing an essay? No. Am I writing a journal article? No. Am I writing to a conference committee with a submission of my finest work? NOpe. I’m saying that I would bet money that I know more about Aristotle while suffering the effects of surgery-induced delirium. It’s not that deep. It’s not meant to be a deep, philosophical take on the nature of Taylor Swift’s work. I’m throwing a metaphorical tomato at her, while yelling “boooo.” So, what? You say, “Play nice.” No. Taylor Swift is not my student, nor my friend. I, thus, have no obligation to try to teach, guide, or help Taylor Swift understand anything. I’m not her philosophy teacher, and, you know what, I don’t think she cares about philosophy at all. You know why she name-dropped Aristotle? It rhymes with “full-throttle” and “Grand Theft Auto” (Swift “So High School”). I’m laughing at her so-called poetical lyricism. In the same breath, I’m judging her for relegating Aristotle to a cheap throw-away line in a dumb pop-song in which she sings about how her football boyfriend makes her feel like she’s 16 again. It’s so mind-numbing.

I’m sad. It’s not anger that compels me, but sadness and disappointment. I’ve been a fan for nearly 15 years and my original post came from lamentations about outgrowing an artist I once respected. Granted, I might have been angry while writing that post (sue me about it).

I do respect Taylor Swift’s work enough to criticize it, however, do not twist my words to mean that as an attack on her personally. I do not wish harm to other human beings, yet it is worth noting that I talk in many other posts about my disgust towards her immoral actions. Even still, most of my posts about Taylor Swift are linguistic or literary criticisms meant to help me process this absolute let-down of an album. I’m also just practicing my literary criticism abilities (I start Grad School in like 2 months, so I’m trying to keep my skills sharp). It’s all low-stakes. And, you’re mad at me? You think I’m being mean? Why? You think that I’m “being an ass to a girl [I’ve] never met”? (para. 8). Taylor Swift is not a girl, first of all, she is older than me and I’m a grown woman. She is way richer, and way more powerful too. What is your point?

Let’s talk about the next line in question: “What is the point of you fixating on the misuse of ‘soliloquy’? What did it bring to others?” I’m fixating on the term soliloquy because Taylor Swift has been using this faux literary/ dark academia aesthetic to sell her records for years now. She’s wears “my coat” (if you catch my meaning). She’s using my real-life study as a way to sell shoddy, sloppy records. I’m going to call that out. Despite her using all the aesthetics of academia, she’s not intelligent enough to even just use the term soliloquy correctly. I noticed it right away, and so did many others. If she can’t even get small details correct about literature, why should I believe that she even knows anything about literature at all? It destroys her creditability. I’ve taught students the term ‘soliloquy” as high school kids. It’s not too much to ask for the biggest pop star in the world, and someone who claims the title of “good” writer, to teach herself what a soliloquy actually is before using it in a song just because it sounds similar to “sanctimonious.” If it’s wrong, she’s just wrong. She could have hired an editor. Now, I won’t go into the context of the line here, too much, but the whole line is her calling her audience a bunch of sanctimonious morons who are talking to themselves. (Is Taylor Swift playing nice enough for you? I wonder....)

Let’s move on.

Now, let’s talk about your concept of “inclination of a philosopher.”

You are correct in saying that often teaching Philosophy varies remarkably from country to country. I was weaned on the analytic philosophy, whereas I believe the French are more continental. (Correct me if I am wrong.) So, the effect of this is that I am obviously quite blunt and fond of Aristotelian logic. Who doesn’t love a good syllogism? A funky little linguistic proof? Yes? Still, I must remind you that I wasn’t really making an argumentative point about actual philosophy in relation to Taylor Swift.

To the crux of the issue, however, I must say that I was actually showing the inclination of philosophy by correcting the intrinsic flaws of the songs I disliked so much. What is philosophy if not the spirit of seeking truth and wisdom? Critique and analyzing poetical works often tie directly into the philosophical field of aesthetics wherein the goal is true, fruitful, understanding on how literary devices and aesthetic representation actually function. If anything is also in effort of seeking truth, surely, you see that critique and correction is? And asking for better workmanship? I was only mad, because mining Taylor Swift work for aesthetic meaning is like searching for Gold in a parking lot. : (

Next point: “to anyone with a sense of philosophy, it just looks like you’re a student who never understood the works they read, and focused on grades and others’ approbation instead.”

First of all, this is rude. You don’t know me. You read my honest, brief anger, that I managed to condense into a couple lines in one single tumblr post, and that gives you the audacity to say I’m a bad student who sought grades above all else? Yeahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh................. Okay, tell me why I spent hours in study rooms and sent countless emails begging for guidance through things I didn’t understand. Tell me why, I’ve stood in front of people and blatantly admitted that I did not understand the readings. Learning takes time, and there is no shame in taking your time. Grades are just letters. What matters is how the strength of what you learn impacts how you act in life. I’ve learned my lessons with all the ferocity of a child falling down a hill and running back up it again. I know my own intentions, and you don’t. I mentioned my "A" in the post really just to lend credibility, through professorial authority (lol), to the fact that I think Taylor Swift is fake smart.

Next: SocRaTeS? You're Joking! What is he doing here?

In an eternal quest for my own understanding, I often returned to Socrates. Did you not see my profile picture? Socrates is my homeboy. If ever I get to choose how to die, I will die like Socrates. Willingly, and with a full-bodied credulity of my own philosophical stances.

You say, “Think about Socrates for a while. He asks questions, he makes simple arguments.” First, he does not make simple arguments. Is it not a syllogism? He writes full dialectical structures. This is some of the most complex stuff I have ever read. Let’s talk about why: Over the centuries, we’ve come to call it the Socratic method. This method includes discursive questions meant to make people question not only others on their reality but to question the most internal mechanisms of the mind. It asks them to think about why we believe or hold the beliefs that we do. He, famously, likens it to a child's development in the womb. The questions are meant as an external way to engage with mechanistic development of thought itself- thus we untangle the dangerous thread of rhetoric internal to our own rational minds. It’s a type of meta-analysis of the self-more than it a simple game of question and answer. Like children from the womb, according to Socrates, we must develop our rational minds too. And, above all else, the Socratic method seeks truth.

Socrates would approve of my literary criticism of Taylor Swift, because I am using it to seek a higher truth. And, in some way, I am inversely questioning my own reasons for seeking what I do. I enjoy poems for a reason. I like to ask myself why I like what I do, and what meaning it brings through my unique perspective. (Applied to others as well, I love to hear from others). I critique Taylor Swift not because I hate her, but because I want to engage with the aesthetic qualities of the material world that elevate my ability to empathize, to think, to engage, to feel the world around me. I love art. I love reading, I want people to write with intelligence. You know then, the soul-crushing feeling of realizing an artist is actually bad. She rhymed Aristotle with Grand Thef Auto... Socrates himself would shudder. Socrates would also recognize that aesthetic quality ought to undergo critique and beauty interrelates to moral value. He was of the belief, and I dare say I believe it too, that beauty, aesthetic beauty, can be likened to moral value through the identification of ways in which it reveals the truth of our very souls. To him engaging with aesthetics is one way in which to reach out and connect the metaphysical to the material, in such awe-inspiring ways.

Ever been moved to tears by a painting? I have, but the question is WHY? That is why I critique literature, poetry, art... music. Whatever I can get my hands on really. I really want to find out, WHY? why was I crying in the Art Gallery, right next to the ice cream shop and everything.

You are perhaps right that I could make more of an effort to explain my points, and also the "moral of the story" or what I hope other people will take away from what I wrote. I’m only ever critical of something if I care enough to either love it or wish it was better so that I could love it. To be honest, I didn't think anyone would read my silly vent post about Taylor Swift, but here we are. I could do better. I usually save my real efforts for my published work, though.

And you, my dearest colleague, are apparently spineless. If your conviction on philosophy is that we must all be kind and precious to each other for fear of causing offense, then I think your career will sink like a rock. Socrates was mean as hell, though not spiteful or malicious. He was mean in the sense of asking people to take a good, long hard look in the mirror. I would ask Taylor Swift to look in the mirror too, but she has a whole song about how she’s not going to do that (Anti-Hero). As you see, I hope that I am not spiteful either. But I do want people to be better and make better art. Socrates would say the same. I say what I say and I mean it. Because I am desperate for something true and beautiful and real. There is no one on earth above reproach. There is no school of philosophy which suggests passivity is tantamount to intelligence. I will not be passive.

You say: “Make it palatable to others. Be humble”

How’s this for palatable: No <3. Why diminish myself? Why should I obfuscate and dance around my own hard-won intellectual skill? Why should I dumb it down? It is not egotistical of me to use my own skillset. Does a doctor not save lives? Do they apologize for using their skills? Does a mechanic not do the same? Does the poet not also do the same? What of the critic?

I can be humble, though. Humility is being self-aware enough to recognize that some might have a skillset more advanced than your own. I seek guidance and consistently challenge myself in academic endeavors. I can recognize the authority others have just as well as I can recognize my own authority. I will not, however, shrink down because you think I’m being too know-it-all-y.

Humility does not require that I speak only when choking back apologies for the audacity I have to speak. I am not sorry. I spent the last 6 years of my life working on two degrees while working 3 jobs. It was hard. I’m proud of myself. If someone feels upset that I speak about the field of study I have fought to participate in, well, I genuinely don’t know what to tell them. Intellect is not a threat (to most). I would say, “if you have a question, ask it.” I actually am very friendly despite my sharp tongue. I am a teacher to my bones <3 and I love my job.

Anyway, if I missed any of your points, misrepresented them, or offended you greatly- my inbox is always open. And I love a good, well-structured argument. However, next time can we talk about actual philosophy instead of you just attacking my character, thanks. <3 Obviously, I took offense. I think you meant to offend me though, for whatever reason. Really, I did go back and crack open a few books to write this, double check some things, so thank you.

Did you get your graduate degree in America? Would love to know. I am planning on getting another Master’s after I am done with this first one. I want to study aesthetics ( LOL).

Ps. Why can’t people show off? I love when people have a talent that they aren’t afraid to share.

#philosophy #anti taylor swift #ex swiftie #english literature #literary criticism #socrates #philosopher in training- dont worry about it #english lit student #academia #aesthetics #literary aesthetics

91 notes · View notes

alonetimelover · 2 years ago

Text

Action! - tolerate it - 2020

Pairings: Harry Styles x Director!Reader

Summary: YN sees how much Harry is distancing himself from her and their relationship. She decides to confront him, not realising the cascade of events about to happen and the feelings she had buried within herself.

Warnings: angst! swearing, mention of unfaithfulness

Word count: ~3,0k

A/N: Another one based on a song, like the title says: tolerate it by Taylor Swift. Hope you enjoy it! x

requested by @abbeyroad069 I hope it meets your expectations 💗

part 2 - champagne problems

series masterlist let's talk about action!universe

20th of June was, like any day in California, warm and sultry.

Sun high above illuminating his face through the dimmed windows. Book that she recommended to him in his hands, flipping pages from time to time, annotating it. Scribbling in his notebook after having found a noteworthy quote. His hair falling into place like dominoes, the pink hair-slide having been forgotten from the gym the other day. Rolled up sleeves, showing his multiple tattoos and shorts, short enough to give her a peak of his Brazil one.

She was sitting opposite him watching. Observing his head hanging low, reading the book she loved so much. His chest was rhythmically lifting with each of the deep and calm breath. His left hand, folding down the pages he’d already read. The right one fiddling with the pencil.

She noticed everything he did and didn’t do.

She sat and watched him.

“I can feel your eyes on me, baby,” Harry spoke without sparing her a glance. “You’re staring.”

“I’m admiring.” Scrutinising.

Harry closed the book and turned to her, “are you?”

“Yeah.”

“Not now, at least. Also that plant hasn’t changed since the day we bought it,” he noted, noticing her eyes watching the flower.

He was wrong. Not for the first and probably last time. That plant was the fourth she brought to their shared house. The first one, that Harry was alluding to, was overwatered, because before it, YN hadn’t known much about plants and had thought they needed water like people, every day. But it was succulent. YN replaced it within two weeks.

The second plant, a completely different one - a fuchsia, didn’t last longer. This one being unfortunately knocked over by a dog of YN’s friend, and chewed on, leaving just two flowers. Nothing she could’ve done with them, she searched it up.

The third one lasted the longest - almost three months. She only needed to replace it, having learned she was allergic to ficus. After weeks of a runny nose, sneezing whenever in a living room and lacrimation, she went to a doctor, did allergic tests and wallowed over her proud achievement that a living plant was. However, she gave it to her best friend, knowing it would be in good hands.

Harry didn’t notice any change. It couldn’t have been easy for him though. Today was the first day in five months that he decided to actually spend time with YN. During those months he was meeting up with his new costars (of a movie YN was a director of), his management (discussing newest album), his bandmates (talking over new tour dates). All of that after having begged YN for moving in with him in LA, due to worldwide quarantine.

“You know it’s an orchid?” She asked after some time.

“Sure.”

“And the one we bought together was a crassula.”

“You threw away our Farquad?” He asked, exaggerating the hurt.

“Three months - no, wait - almost four months ago. I overwatered it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. It’s not even the funniest part,” YN started to sound sarcastic. “I then bought a totally different plant that Doger knocked over and ate. Then another one that I - how it turned out - am allergic to. This one is the fourth plant here. I bought it two weeks ago. Isn’t it hilarious?”

“You’re being sarcastic. And I don’t even know what for, YN.” Harry reached for his book, attempting to restart the chapter.

YN was very much surprised by how quickly and drastically the person she loved could change. One talkative person who wanted to discuss the slightest and smallest problem with his partner was not here. One caring person, who was hurt whenever his loved one was, felt absent. One gentle man, who looked after his partner trying to be the best for her lost the title.

“You understand it’s not about plants?”

“It sounds like it is,” he said dismissively, staring at the book.

“But it isn’t. It’s about you, about us, Harry.” She emphasised the pronoun.

“YN,” he sighed, closing the book once again. “You’re starting this pointless argument for the third time this month.”

Fifth, she thought. It was the fifth time she tried to talk it over with Harry. Perhaps, she felt, she was misreading everything. Perhaps, the neglect she felt wasn't real. She must have been exaggerating the situation. Nothing changed. He loved her as much as yesterday or two years ago. It was pointless after all.

She was waiting by the door just like she was just a kid. Waiting, having laid the table with a ‘fancy shit’ as Harry called the tableware that he’d got from his mother. It was their anniversary. YN wanted to celebrate it simply, a cosy dinner with his favourite dish, Harry’s best wine and Phil Collins playing in the background. Nothing over the top. Just them, solemnising their third year together.

He was late. Two and half hours late.

Was she mad? She should have been, but was hopeful. Always putting so much faith in him.

“What are you doing still up, love?” He asked tiptoeing into the house, five hours later.

“Happy anniversary!”

She smiled from one ear to the other, holding up the cake she had baked by herself that morning. Even though, deep down she was sad and disappointed, celebrating this milestone was more important. They’d forget about this tardiness tomorrow, only remembering what was worth it.

“Oh! Indeed, happy anniversary, babe.” His eyes not knowing where to look. He forgot.

She hated being called babe.

“Did you have dinner?”

“Yeah, I’m full.” He patted his stomach, simultaneously taking off his black trainers. “We went to this new sushi restaurant I’d talked to you about. It was amazing! The chef was so nice, giving me a tip on how to chop the spring onions correctly.” Oh, how eager he was about it.

“Exciting. So you won’t be eating any tacos I made?” She asked hopefully.

“‘M sorry, YN. I’m so tired, I'm just gonna shower and head to bed. Tomorrow’s morning I’m meeting up with Olivia to talk over the few scenes we’ve got together,” Harry said, yawning and already going up the stairs.

Harry’s and Olivia’s characters didn’t have any scenes where they would talk with each other.

“It’s not an argument. I want to kindly and calmly talk with you. When was the last time we actually discussed our relationship?”

“Is there anything to discuss? We’re fine.”

“Harry,” YN sat up straight, giving Harry a pointer that he’d better listen. “You don’t only discuss your relationship when something’s wrong. And,” she paused, pondering about the next question, “you really think we’re fine?”

“Yes!” He lifted up his voice, becoming edgy. “Day after day you’re insinuating something. Just say it fucking straight, whatever that is on your heart, lay it on me.”

If she did as he had said, would it mean the end? The confrontation was the last thing she wanted. Especially when Harry already was wired. But at the same time, when would be a better moment?

“I don’t think we’re fine. We’re growing apart,” she admitted.

“It’s your opinion.”

“Yes, it is! Thank you for noticing, Harry,” YN expressed sarcastically. “Don’t you see how much you’ve distanced yourself from this -” She pointed between them. “This relationship?”

“Distanced? I’m working, YN. I’m trying to write an album. I’m working on three films. I’m managing a relationship with you.”

“Managing?” Her voice smaller, the weight of his words landing on her.

“Of course, it’s the only fucking thing you’ve heard. Of course.” He scoffed, shaking his head.

Harry stood up from the armchair, throwing his book on an oaken coffee table. His hands brushing over his hair and then beard, he’d grown over the quarantine.

“It’s not. You’re working, Harry. I understand that. I see you writing music and preparing for your roles. I’m here. Just like you wanted me to be. How you begged me to be.” She tried staying as calm as possible. “I am here and you’re not.”

“What do you want me to do, YN? Hmm? I can’t be at the two places at the same time. I can’t give you as much attention as you crave. I can’t.” He was throwing his hands up and down, talking with them as well.

“Is it craving attention by just wishing your partner was there for you?”

“You think I’m not?”

“Stop asking stupid questions, Harry!” She broke her calmness, all her feelings finally having space to leave her body. “You’re not here. Not at home, not in this relationship.”

“I just said, I can’t give you all the attention you crave, “ he repeated.

“Love?”

“What?”

“What about love? Can you give it to me?”

“Oh, now you’re sounding ridiculous. I’m done with this conversation, YN.”

He moved swiftly over the table and rushed towards the stairs.

“I love you, Harry. Can you say it?”

He can’t, she said in her mind, observing how his shoulders tensed, halting his movements. Then, her eyes started getting teary. But she wasn’t going to cry in front of him. No. She’d wait and just like over the last two weeks, she’d wait for him to go to sleep, then she’d sit down in the downstairs bathroom and sob. Sob for minutes or hours. Shaking with all the emotions trapped inside, hurting every inch of her body.

She knew her love should have been celebrated.

“If it’s all in my head just tell me now,” she whispered, knowing he could hear her. “Tell me I’ve got it wrong somehow. Tell me that for the last five months you haven’t lied about where you were going. Tell me that you really didn’t forget about our anniversary. Tell me that she’s not the one you’re going to every day. Tell me I’m wrong. I beg you,” she whimpered.

Pathetic, she thought.

He still hadn’t moved. Maybe he was preparing his apology, or a break up discourse, where YN’s thoughts.

“YN,” Harry sighed, still not looking in her direction.

“Tell me I’m wrong.” She pressed him.

“I - I don’t know.”

“You don’t know if I’m wrong or you don’t know what to say?”

“I didn’t cheat on you.” His voice was low, like it wasn’t really his.

Many would laugh but she had never thought about it. She trusted him too much to even consider it. From day one of their relationship to this day, she’d never believed any rumour, any post on social media, any article, any fan, any ‘friend’. She believed him, she believed his ‘I love you’s, his ‘I care about you’s, his ‘you’re the love of my life’, his ‘you’re the only one for me’. No doubt there.

What she thought and worried about was him falling out of love.

And there were more and more signs it had already happened.

“I know. It never crossed my mind.”

Harry’s mood was changing constantly for the last 20 minutes. From very relaxed, to riled up, then annoyed and eventually scared. His mind was full of enigmas he couldn’t solve. Mixed emotions and feelings, messing with him.

“Then what are you accusing me of?”

“Assuming I - we - are fine.”

“YN-”

“Harry. Be genuine. If not with me, then - then just with yourself.” The least she could do was make him realise it.

“I am. I - I am genuine. I -” he gulped. “I love you.”

It was like a dagger stabbing her in the heart. The sentence, echoing in her brain, quizzical voices talking over each other, ragging on her.

Where was that man who’d throw blankets over her barbed wire? She made him her temple, her mural, her sky. Temple, she went to ask for advice, direction, forgiveness and adoration. Mural, she appreciated all over and watched being appreciated by so many. Sky, she couldn’t imagine living without, looking up to it, thanking it for its presence.

“I love you.”

But this one was full of it, full of actual love. It could say everything just by the way she expressed it, all feelings inside it. No more to add, nothing to cut. Just three words. Three sincere words.

“Please,” he begged, knowing what was awaiting him. “Can we go to sleep? We’ll talk about it tomorrow, I promise.”

Letting it slide would mean not talking about it until the moment she’d grow some confidence. She couldn’t do it. As much as it hurt her, what was coming, she needed to be strong. She needed to hear it. No matter the heartbreak.

“You’ll break that promise. Promises about coming home on time, meeting me up for lunch, going with me to that new sushi restaurant, showing me your newest idea for a song. Promises you break, one after the other since February.” She stood up, walking up to him. “Promises about missing me-”

“Stop.”

“Promises about caring about me.”

“I said stop, YN.” His voice slowly gaining power.

“Promises about loving me-”

“I said stop!” He shouted, making her flinch. “Stop it, YN! The way you feel doesn’t give you a reason to put it on me, making me feel like a monster, like the one responsible for everything.”

“But you promised all those things, not meeting them at the end.”

“So what?”

She begged her brain to play with her. He didn't just say it.

“Harry, you lied so many times that I don’t know what’s true anymore. Last month, you talked about meeting Jeff for coffee and the next day there were photos of you with Olivia all over the internet. Few days ago you mentioned the trip with Chris and Gemma, but the same day the trip is going to be, are the days Gemma is spending at her parent’s farm and Chris is visiting our house. Today you said you loved me and - and -,” she couldn’t say it.

This conversation felt like running up to the finish line of the run, you didn’t want to participate in. One that wouldn’t bring you fulfilment. One that would leave you sore all over, but mostly hurting your poor heart. One that the winner - you - would be an actual loser.

He stood silently, looking down at his white socks. He couldn’t bring himself to look in her eyes. She made him aware of his feelings. Or the lack of them. This whole conversation not only angered or annoyed him but mostly made him think. Why did he lie so many times? Why couldn’t he stop? What was he thinking then and now? When did it all start? When did he lose it? Where was he, not realising he was hurting one person he promised not to lay a finger on? Why wasn't there any guilt? If so, why couldn’t he look into her eyes?

“When was the last time you asked anything about my life? Do you remember what show I’m working on? Do you remember the date we scheduled to fly to London? Do you remember anything?” She started listing everything that was bothering her.

“I told you about that new show,” she started answering for him. “Stranger Things. I wrote that one character, a guy who loves music, is an outcast. Character that is so close to my heart. One, I’m proudest of. Do you remember talking about it? Or rather me telling you about it?”

Silence.

“What about that one conversation about going upstate to my cabin? We’re supposed to leave in three days. Or are you meeting up with Olivia to discuss scenes that you do not have together?”

Perhaps she was jealous. And perhaps, deep down, she thought about the possibility. The infidelity. She was so stunned with the love he made her used to be, trust he provided, that the concept of him being unfaithful was buried within other problems.

“I’ll pack some stuff and leave for a few days.” It was all he said, before moving upstairs, leaving her flabbergasted.

Like in a trance, all feelings leaving her body, she walked to the couch and sat down. Thoughts were swirling in her mind, making her numb. She looked across the room, finding the photo of her and Harry from their first visit at Anne’s, laughing maniacally because Gemma had said something funny. It was the first time she met his family properly (in real life, not on FaceTime), seven months into the relationship. It was crazy how now she considered them her family too. Even more than her own.

Was it all going to collapse now?

“Now, lovebirds, big smiles for the family album!” Anne shouted over Christmas music playing loudly.

The warmth coming from the fireplace behind her, and the one provided by Harry, made her cheeks feel hot. Matching sweater she had bought for her and Harry, tickling her neck, big woollen socks she got from Gemma tucking her. They were right after the big dinner, carols singing and gifts exchanging. It all felt like Christmas portrayed in movies.

“It’s an honour, you know,” Harry whispered.

“What d’you mean?” She looked up at him.

“Mum has a big album with only a few photos from each year ending up there. I think it’s the last vacant space for 2018, love.” Harry squeezed her closer to himself, cuddling her. “Now say cheese or gimme a kiss.”

“I’m not kissing you in front of your mum!” she protested with a teasing smile.

“Don’t be a prude,” he joked. “One, little kiss?”

“Nope.” She popped the ‘p’.

“Don’t make me beg.” Harry pouted, stepping on the dangerous territory. His pointing finger holding her chin, making her look at him once again.

He smirked, “you look even more beautiful today, my love.” Smirk turning into his winning smile.

“You are unbelievable,” she shook her head, slightly puckering her lips.

“Okay, that’s enough flirting!” Gemma yelled. “Mum snap a photo before you become grandma.”

They laughed in embarrassment but underneath feeling peaceful.

With a Gucci suitcase in hand, Harry appeared in a corner of her eye, almost swimming to the front door.

“I’ll be back in a few days. I - I need to think about it all. I lo - I’ll see you then, YNN.”

Just that.

The door closed, soon being followed by the sound of the engine starting and slowly withering.

She knew her love should’ve been celebrated. But he tolerated it.

And she did nothing.

She sat and watched him.

#action!universe #director!reader #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles

1K notes · View notes

thefugitivesaint · 3 months ago

Text

Sasha Weiss, in a recent piece in the New York Times Magazine, offers an account of Ezra Edelman’s nine-hour documentary about Prince and how unexpected conflicts with the controlling interests of the Prince estate (who switched executors well into the process of making the documentary and those new executors took issue with the project) might mean that said documentary might never reach a viewing audience. Weiss' overview of the project inspired in me a strong desire to give it a watch. She writes that Edelman's work, "...offers one answer to a question that has agonized the culture at large for the last decade. How should we think about artists whose moral failings are exposed? Edelman manages to present a deeply flawed person while still granting him his greatness — and his dignity."

It's an engaging read and whether you're a fan of Prince or not. How do you explore the life of a man who resisted being known and who spent much of his life crafting a public persona that was always shifting and changing? Does exposing the flaws of an artist diminish that artist or does it help humanize them, giving them a deeper context, and, perhaps, allowing the public a better understanding of their art in the process? "As Edelman completed his interviews — more than 70 of them — he realized there wasn’t some big secret that people were hiding. Instead, what he found were the defining traumas of Prince’s childhood and his constant recapitulating of them. The story unfolds slowly, hauntingly, over the course of the film." ............. As a quick aside (and possibly unnecessary digression): buried in the piece is a brief discussion about the erosion of quality in the content being produced by Netflix, particularly in the field of documentaries, "Netflix, which is still the biggest platform for documentaries, has, in recent years, moved away from the kind of prestigious, provocative films that helped make the company’s reputation, toward content that is inexpensive to make and appeals to a global audience. Many people pointed to the platform’s increased appetite for gauzy, entertaining celebrity documentaries — of, for example, Beyoncé, David Beckham, Taylor Swift, Jennifer Lopez, all of whom were intimately involved in their creation." Of course, this "move away" from "prestigious, provocative films" for more superficially pleasing documentaries is about money. Whenever you see something getting worse, no matter what it is, usually the foundation for that degradation is avarice, greed, the chasing after profit above all things. It's the fundamental problem with the media (and the billionaires who own it), with the economy, it's the engine of the housing crisis, it's why the internet sucks (see Cory Doctorow's 'Enshittification' for an exploration on this particular topic). The list is potentially endless. The new executors of the Prince estate, so speculation goes, are resistant to the films release because they think that it will hurt the public image of Prince, get him "cancelled" posthumously, and "devalue the estate’s bottom line" (i.e. make them less money).

#Sasha Weiss #prince #Ezra Edelman #documentary films #enshittification #cory doctorow #release the Edelman cut #prince and the revolution

43 notes · View notes

the-winter-spider · 1 month ago

Text

Seven | One Shot AU

Word Count: 3.5k

Parings: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Death, mentions of drug use, mentions of abuse. Angst.

Inspired by: Seven by Taylor Swift

You remember the way the woods smelled in summer: an earthy mix of moss and wildflowers, the gentle decay of fallen leaves. Back then, those woods felt endless to you, a vast expanse filled with boundless adventures waiting to unfold. The town, with its creaky old houses and quiet, winding streets, served as a mere backdrop for something greater—something you and Bucky hadn’t quite discovered yet but talked about endlessly. Together, you crafted entire worlds, weaving stories and escaping into realms that existed solely in your imaginations.

Bucky was always a step ahead, a fearless explorer leading you deeper into the forest as if he knew its secrets by heart. He would pick up a stick and declare it a sword, instantly pulling you into an epic adventure. You’d find yourselves battling imaginary foes, building forts from branches and leaves. The towering trees became your protective walls, and the leafy canopy above transformed into your expansive sky. Every so often, he would glance back over his shoulder, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief, checking to see if you were still there, breathless and laughing behind him. In those fleeting moments, it felt like nothing could touch you—not the outside world, nor the weight of grown-up worries whispered in the shadows of your home.

The river became your favorite sanctuary. You would sit at its edge, dipping your toes into the cool, clear water as it rushed by. In that small clearing by the bank, you both shared secrets that seemed monumental at the time. You confided your hopes and dreams to him, the aspirations that reached far beyond the town’s borders. Bucky listened intently, nodding as if he understood completely, even when his responses were often silent.

One bright afternoon, curiosity nudged you to ask him if he believed there was more beyond the town limits. Without hesitation, he gazed out over the shimmering water and nodded confidently. “Of course there is,” he said, his voice steady and reassuring, imbued with a certainty as solid as the earth beneath you. “One day, we’re going to see it. All of it.” In that moment, you believed him completely, your heart swelling with shared dreams.

The clearing became your sacred sanctuary, a timeless refuge just for the two of you. In this secluded space, you felt an exhilarating sense of freedom. There was an unexplainable safety that enveloped you, as if the bond you shared could shield you from anything the world outside could throw your way. As the worries of life faded into the background, it was just you and Bucky—two kids with wild imaginations, playing make-believe in the woods as if you could remain in that moment forever.

You don’t often discuss home with Bucky, but somehow, he always knows. There’s a deep understanding between you, unspoken yet solid, built from the glances exchanged over the years, from those times he would meet you outside when you couldn’t bear to stay another minute within those walls. The woods transformed into a haven, a place to escape not just for adventure, but to breathe freely, to leave everything else behind.

There are days when you meet in the clearing, and Bucky seems quieter, his usual spark dulled, as though a heavy weight bears down on him. He doesn’t reveal much, but you’ve overheard fragments—conversations about expectations and duties pressing upon him like a dark cloud, his parents whispering about wars and the looming possibility of conscription. When you ask if he’s okay, he simply shrugs, offering a small, reassuring smile, as if he’s trying to comfort you as much as himself.

You don’t share everything, either, but he understands when you lean against him, finding solace in the strength of his shoulder. He allows you to speak when the words rise within you, and sometimes you do, pouring out your heart about the walls of your house that feel stifling, about the eerie silence that lingers there, the unsettling calm that hangs over every room. Some days, it feels like a weight pressing down, like you’re poised on the brink of something shattering. But here, in this clearing with Bucky, the world feels manageable once again. In this sacred place, all that matters is that you have a refuge, someone who understands.

In these moments, neither of you needs to fill the silence with words; instead, it becomes something precious—a bond deepened by all the unspoken thoughts and feelings. Sitting side by side, you let the trees around you block out the chaos of the outside world, and for a little while, it’s just the two of you. Just two kids, two hearts tethered to each other by shared secrets and the comfort of knowing that someone else is there—enough to keep the shadows at bay.

That night is etched into your memory, every detail vivid as if it happened just yesterday. You met him in the clearing as usual, but tonight felt different—he felt different. His eyes held a look you hadn’t seen before, an emotion that lay somewhere between sorrow and hope, a quiet longing that mirrored the ache in your own heart.

The world faded away as he took your hand, pulling you close. The familiar sounds of the forest fell silent, leaving only the soft sound of your breaths mingling in the cool night air. His hand gently brushed your cheek, his thumb tracing a line over your jaw, as he gazed at you as if he were memorizing every detail, acutely aware that this might be the last time he could see you like this.

Lying together on the uneven ground, surrounded by the scent of damp earth and pine, you allowed the distance that had been building between you to dissolve. His touch was gentle, hesitant at first, as if he feared breaking the fragile space you’d created. But as both of you grew bolder, hands exploring familiar curves and lines, it transformed into something deeper—an unspoken understanding that blossomed with the way he pressed his forehead to yours, his breath shuddering with the same mix of nerves and desire that surged within you.

Your bodies moved together in a rhythm that felt instinctual, the warmth of his skin grounding you as the feel of his heart beat rapidly beneath your fingers. It wasn’t about the place or the way the world lay just beyond the trees, waiting for you to step back into it; it was about him—the way he looked at you with a depth that felt like safety, a promise that he would be there even if he couldn’t stay. You felt connected to him in a way that was new and uncharted, yet it felt right—as if you had been made for this moment, for him.

Afterward, the two of you lay tangled together, his arm draped protectively over you, as if he could shield you from everything that lurked outside this sanctuary. He murmured softly, his lips brushing gently against your shoulder, tracing your skin with a tenderness that made your heart ache. Then he grew still, his mouth lingering on a tender spot, and you felt his hand shift, his fingers skimming over the bruise that had appeared on your upper arm, a mark you hadn’t realized was there until he touched it.

His hand tightened slightly, his body tensing beside you. He lifted his head, his expression hardening as he looked at you with a mixture of pain and anger—not directed at you, never at you. His jaw clenched, and he held your gaze, something protective and fierce igniting in his eyes.

“Come with me,” he whispered, the words almost a plea. “We don’t have to stay here. We can leave tonight. Just you and me.”

A rush of longing surged within you, a fierce desire to say yes, to let him take you away and escape everything that held you here. But then you thought of your little sister—how she counted on you, how she needed you. You couldn’t leave her behind. Not yet.

“I can’t, Bucky,” you murmured, your voice trembling beneath the weight of your choice. “I have to stay. She needs me.”

He nodded slowly, understanding even as you saw the hurt in his eyes. Gently, he pulled you close again, his arms enveloping you, holding you as if he could keep you safe just by remaining there a little longer. The two of you lay there, clinging to each other as if you could hold the world at bay for just a little while more, letting the quiet night and the shadows of the trees surround you.

When he finally left, it felt as though he had taken a piece of you with him—a piece that would always belong to him, left behind in that hidden clearing where the memory of your love remained untouched and untarnished, a sanctuary from everything you couldn’t escape.

—-

Bucky stepped off the bus, the crisp autumn air biting at his skin as he took a deep breath, the familiar scent of damp earth and fallen leaves wrapping around him like an unwelcome shroud. After years of chasing ghosts and avoiding the pull of home, he was finally back, and it felt like stepping into a shadow of his past. This wasn’t the homecoming he had imagined; it was the day of your sister’s funeral, a day draped in mourning and heavy with grief.

The funeral was a blur of somber faces, murmured condolences, and the familiar weight of loss hanging thick in the air. He stood at the edge of the crowd, watching you from a distance, unable to bring himself to cross that final barrier. You looked different—so much older, worn down by the weight of everything you had endured. Your eyes, once bright and full of life, now held a haunting depth, a heaviness as if this loss was the last straw in a long line of burdens you had carried.

Bucky’s heart ached at the sight of you, the girl he once knew so well, now surrounded by people who offered empty words of sympathy, words like “tragedy” and “too young” that dripped with a bitterness he couldn’t ignore. The murmurs of the crowd stung, and he felt a familiar surge of anger rise within him—anger for the unfairness of it all, for the way life had dealt you such a cruel hand. He knew the weight of the sacrifices you had made for the only family you had left, the way life kept pulling you under when all you wanted was to stay afloat.

As the service wore on, Bucky finally pushed through the throng of mourners, seeking you out but you were already gone. When he found you again, it was as if the world had faded away. You stood alone at the old riverbank, your gaze lost in the gentle ripple of the water, the place that had once been your sanctuary. Memories flooded back—the laughter, the whispered secrets, the dreams you’d spun together. In that moment, it felt as if no time had passed at all, and the years that separated you melted away.

He stepped up beside you, his presence grounding. Together, you stood in silence, letting the memories settle like leaves upon the water’s surface, swirling and mingling until they disappeared from sight. After a while, Bucky broke the silence, his voice softer, rougher than you remembered. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” he said, the weight of the unspoken words heavy in the air. He began to share snippets of his life—stories of travel, of trying to find meaning in places that felt foreign without you. “But nothing ever felt real,” he admitted, looking at you with an intensity that made your heart race, “or fulfilling without you there.”

You gave him a sad smile, one that carried the weight of understanding. “I should feel crushed,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. “I know I should be heartbroken, but… I can’t help feeling hopeful. And that makes me feel like a terrible person.”

Bucky’s brow furrowed in concern, surprise evident in his gaze. He didn’t interrupt, sensing you needed the space to let your feelings flow.

“I lost her over a year ago,” you confessed, your voice trembling. “When she fell in with the wrong crowd… I tried everything, Bucky, but it was like she was already gone. And I held on, thinking I could save her, but now—now I can finally let go. I feel like I can breathe for the first time, like maybe… maybe I can finally leave.”

His heart swelled at your words, both painful and liberating. He reached for your hand, his fingers warm against your cold skin, grounding you with the strength of his touch. There was a deep understanding in that simple gesture, the weight of his own losses mirrored in yours.

You took a shaky breath, pulling away slightly to look him in the eye. “I got accepted into a writing program at NYU,” you said, a small smile breaking through the grief as hope flickered in your chest. “I can finally start over.”

A glimmer of pride lit up Bucky’s face, making your heart ache in a familiar, tender way. “That’s incredible, your incredible” he said, his voice full of warmth.

He reached up, his hand finding your cheek, his thumb brushing gently over your skin. The warmth of his touch seeped into you, steadying you in a way that felt safe. You leaned into his hand, your eyes meeting his, and in that moment, the world outside seemed to fade into nothing.

“I’m moving to New York too,” he said softly, his words wrapping around you like a promise. “Got a job at the VA with my friend Sam.”

The realization settled in your chest, a feeling that was dangerously close to happiness. “You are?” you breathed, and your heart raced at the thought of him being so close, so accessible after years of distance.

Bucky nodded, a soft smile spreading across his face, wide and genuine. You leaned your forehead against his, your breaths mingling as the years of separation melted away. The connection you had shared as children resurfaced, and it felt like home—like finally finding your way back to something sacred.

“Finally,” he whispered, his voice thick with relief, as if this moment had been a long time coming, a culmination of all those unspoken feelings and the bond that had never truly broken.

In that quiet space, surrounded by the stillness of the river and the memories that lingered in the trees, you felt an overwhelming sense of peace wash over you. This was a new beginning, one where the past and present intertwined, allowing you to step forward with the promise of hope, of love, of something that felt right. You had found your way back—to him, to yourself, and to a future that shimmered just beyond the horizon.

——

New York feels like a whole new world, yet somehow, with Bucky by your side, it feels like coming home. The city buzzes with life—horns honking, people chattering, street performers playing their hearts out—each sound merging into a chaotic symphony. But when you’re with him, the noise fades away, leaving just the two of you in a private bubble of shared memories and quiet laughter.

You fall into each other’s company with an ease you didn’t realize you could still have, as if no time has passed since the days of innocent dreams and whispered secrets. Each moment spent together feels like a thread weaving a tapestry of connection, pulling you closer with every shared smile and lingering gaze.

One evening, after wandering aimlessly through the vibrant streets, you find yourselves drawn to Central Park. It’s the city’s version of your old woods, a sprawling oasis amidst the concrete jungle. The trees sway gently in the cool night breeze, their leaves rustling softly, creating a soothing melody that accompanies the distant sounds of the city. Above you, the stars flicker faintly, struggling to shine through the urban glow, but still managing to create a beautiful backdrop for the two of you.

Bucky takes your hand, his grip firm yet tender, as he leads you to a quiet spot beneath a large oak tree. The grass is cool beneath you as you sit together, close enough that your shoulders touch, the warmth of his body radiating against you. You lean against each other, letting the silence speak volumes.

Eventually, Bucky breaks the stillness, his voice low and steady, like he’s afraid he’ll shatter the fragile moment. He starts to talk, and the words pour out, revealing the layers of his experiences—the sights he’s seen, the losses he’s endured, and the moments that still haunt him. Each confession is like a fragile thread he carefully unravels from his chest, laying bare the vulnerabilities he often hides from the world.

You listen intently, your heart aching for him as he shares his scars—both visible and hidden. It’s a side of Bucky you’ve rarely seen, the soldier stripped of his armor, allowing you to see the man beneath. Your hand rests on his, grounding him, a silent promise that he’s not alone in this.

When he finishes, you take a deep breath, feeling the weight of your own story pressing against your heart. You share your truth—the ache you carried when he left, the years that felt hollow without him. You tell him about the quiet days when you’d return to the clearing in the woods, yearning for a glimpse of him, hoping that somehow he’d be there, standing by the river with that boyish grin that had always made your heart flutter.

As you speak, there’s something fragile in the air, like a delicate thread connecting your pasts. You both seem to step back into your younger selves, back when life was simpler, filled with dreams and possibilities. But now, you carry the weight of experience and loss, yet somehow, together, you feel lighter. You laugh at old memories, reminiscing about the games you played, the secret looks you shared, and the dreams you whispered when the world felt limitless.

In those quiet moments, you feel something shift between you—something real and steady. It’s like finding a part of yourself you thought was lost forever, a piece that belongs to him as much as it belongs to you. Bucky reaches for your hand, his thumb tracing lazy circles over your skin, anchoring you in this newfound intimacy.

“I thought I lost this,” he admits softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Lost us.”

You smile softly, squeezing his hand, the connection pulsing between you. “I did too.”

As the night stretches on, you sit together in the heart of the city, enveloped in your own little sanctuary. In that moment, you both realize that this—the love, the innocence you thought was gone—is still alive, buried beneath the weight of everything you’ve been through, just waiting for you to rediscover it.

The evening unfolds in soft whispers and tender glances, the night wrapping around you both like a comforting promise. Eventually, you make your way back to his apartment, where the city lights cast a warm glow through the window. It feels as if all the years and miles between you have led to this moment, to the quiet sanctuary of his room.

Once inside, the atmosphere shifts. Bucky’s hands are gentle as he pulls you close, his fingers tracing the familiar lines of your face, as if he’s rediscovering you all over again. There’s a tenderness in the way he holds you, a reverence that makes your heart swell. When his lips meet yours, it’s unhurried and soft, full of the patience you’ve both learned in his absence.

The kiss is a revelation, a blend of everything you both have yearned for, a promise that transcends the years apart. His touch is careful, reverent—a reminder of all the words left unspoken, all the feelings tucked away for far too long.

The world outside fades as he lays you down beside him, his touch slow and full of certainty, savoring every part of you as if you were the missing piece he’s searched for all along. His gaze is intense, softened only by the quiet vulnerability in his eyes, a look that says he’s finally home.

As your bodies move together, everything feels right. There’s no urgency, only the deep, steady rhythm of rediscovery, a silent promise exchanged between breaths and touches. When he finally pulls you close, his forehead resting against yours, his voice is a whisper that cuts through the stillness.

“There’s never been anybody but you,” he murmurs, his words like a vow, anchoring you both to this moment.

You smile, brushing a hand gently over his cheek, your heart brimming with warmth. “And there will never be anybody but you.”

In that moment, with his arms wrapped around you, the past fades into something distant, replaced by the quiet certainty that this is where you were always meant to be—here, with him, where you’ve both finally found your way back to each other.

As the night deepens, you drift into a peaceful slumber in each other’s embrace, the city’s heartbeat echoing outside, but within the walls of this room, there’s only the soft cadence of your breaths mingling together. And in that sacred space, you know that no matter what the future holds, you have reclaimed not just each other, but the love that has always been waiting for you to find it again.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x y/n #sebastian stan x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes angst #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader angst #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes imagine #Spotify

31 notes · View notes