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httpknjoon · 2 days ago

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what do the lonely do at christmas | myg

plot | that time when popstar!yn found herself on bassist!yoongi's bed on a cold December morning.

w.c | 2.8K

pairing | bass guitarist!yoongi x popstar!reader

genre | fluff, slight angst, enemies to lovers

note | one out of two/three holiday-themed drabble for this series! it's late, I know. but I can't let them sit in my drafts again haha so here it is. enjoy!

main masterlist | series masterlist | want to request?

DAY 67 of Love Is... On Tour

They make songs. Together.

After a show at Wells Fargo Center, Yoongi stayed locked in his hotel room to work on the music for your EP. He has read the lyrics you sent to him and listened to some melody ideas you recorded in your voice notes. In the last two days you two have been collaborating, you are full of visions and excited to tell him all of them. He finds it more surprising that you two haven't had any fights since then.

Is it New Years yet? I'm getting bored, so can we skip ahead? I just wanna forget That I'm at home with nobody to hold

So far, you already recorded two out of the six songs you planned to release in the EP. Usually, Yoongi takes his time in making and editing songs. But considering that this is a holiday EP and you have less than a week before the management's deadline, he works on it at every chance he gets. It's not that hard when you already have a clear vision of what and how you want the extended play to be.

Working is a great distraction compared to scrolling on his phone, which did no good for him. Mainly because he recently saw a post from a mutual friend of his and his ex. That's when he learned that Sara threw a baby shower in what was supposedly their house. He felt something cracked in him when he saw how far along her pregnancy was.

Tempted, Yoongi scrolled through the carousel of photos, admiring the decorations and colors of the house Sara probably picked herself, things that Yoongi had never seen personally. A single photo made Yoongi pause.

It shows Sara and her then-ex-boyfriend holding her growing bump, also showcasing a ring on her finger— not the emerald-cut diamond one he proposed to her. A new one, signaling that she is engaged for a second time this year. That photo was enough for Yoongi to turn it off and focus on his music.

Ding-dong.

Yoongi's head snapped, irritated when the unexpected doorbell noise filled his room. Frowning, he gets up from his chair to check who the person might be.

It's you.

Looking like a curious puppy, you stood before Yoongi's door with two cups of warm drinks you asked Cal to buy on the way back to the hotel. Yoongi looked at you through the small peephole, taking notice of your large, thick white cable knit sweater that falls just a few inches above your knees and the mystery cups you're holding. He opened the door when you began rolling your eyes and tapping your foot.

"What took you so long?!" you instantly asked the moment you saw him, handing him the other cup.

He snickered, ignoring your attitude. He takes the cup before pushing the door wider to let you in. Yoongi followed behind you when you walked inside. He sits back on his chair, in front of his small set-up, while you sit at the edge of his bed. Usually, you will take the couch. But the bed is nearer his working setup.

This is how you two have worked since you started. You only get up when you want to see his screen or when recording something.

"What are you doing here?" he asked since you just finished your show earlier. He figured you might prefer to rest and just work early tomorrow.

"I have an EP to work on, duh!" you replied, taking a sip from your hot chocolate as you tapped on your phone. "Anyway, lemme show you something..."

Probably a new idea. Yoongi thought. He knew it from the moment he saw you opened your phone's notes app.

"Here." You handed him your phone, letting him read something you wrote earlier today.

Maybe he met you somewhere in the desert While he was soul searching, he found someone better Guess you make him happy like I couldn't do Cindy Lou Who

Yoongi reads down the words, "It's a sad song?"

"Yep," you nodded. "Have you heard the song, What Do The Lonely Do At Christmas?"

Yoongi was quick to shake his head. He is not really fond of Christmas songs and doesn't listen to them if not needed. But he could tell by the title that it's probably a sad song too.

You pulled up your legs on his bed, making yourself comfortable, "It's a great song from the 70s. It has a lot of covers too. It's a sad Christmas song and I am so into it that I thought of writing one too."

Yoongi nods, listening, as he scans the rest of your lyrics, "Hmm..."

"What?" you quickly responded to his humming.

With how his eyes squint and his lips form a thin line, you know that he has something to say about your work. You learned after your first night of working together, making you realize that he has the same habit when you rehearse for a show.

"It's great, but I feel like we should just change some irrelevant lines? Like, maybe he met you somewhere in the desert." he read one of the lines. "What does desert get to do with Christmas?"

When he was met with a long silence, Yoongi looked up to you. But he find you just looking at him, chewing on your bottom lip. You looked away before letting out a heavy sigh.

"I found out my ex was cheating on me when paparazzi caught pictures of him and that actress kissing in Coachella." you explained.

"Oh..."

An apologetic look was instantly written all over his face, which is something you haven't expected. You thought he would keep the blank expression he always has. But his eyes and slightly gaped mouth said otherwise. You hate pity or anything like that, especially when it comes from someone who once read you too well. So, you grinned, even though it was forced so much that it almost made your cheeks hurt.

"Want to see the pictures? It's literally everywhere." you joked to change the mood. His eyes widened like he thought you were serious. So you chuckled, "I'm kidding! I won't show you that myself. You can just search it up if you want to."

"I'm not interested. No one really enjoys seeing a picture of their ex," he mumbled, returning your phone to you.

Your eyebrows crooked together when you heard that. He sounded too serious like he was the one in your shoes. You watch him sulk back to his seat, turning his back to work on one of your songs.

"You're acting like you were the one who got cheated on here. You're literally engaged to someone." you quipped.

"Maybe I am, maybe I'm not."

He whispered mindlessly. Yoongi didn't really think about it and let it slip out of his tongue. He doesn't really like bringing up his personal dramas in his workplace. He never would have realized what he said if you didn't ask him,

"What do you mean by that?"

Yoongi turned around, meeting your eyes, "So, how do you like that song to turn out?"

You're not dumb. Of course, you noticed him dodging your curiosities. He has never shared anything about himself since you two worked together. It's not like I care, you thought. But you know that there is a small itch at the back of your head, trying to get him to talk more. And maybe you know a trick to satisfy that itch.

"Let's order some wine first."

"With your hair so long, lips so bed— wait, that's wrong!"

A bottle of red wine is carelessly placed on the perfectly white duvet of Yoongi's bed. Surprisingly, it is still safe from any stain. The nearly finished cup of now-cold chocolate drink you brought is on the nightstand. You were giggling in front of the microphone and pop filter after making another mistake.

"The words are scrambled." you continued giggling before drinking from the glass of wine you were holding.

It has been almost two hours since you got in his room and Yoongi knows that the effect of your wine is getting into you. Earlier, before you could finish your first glass, you two already agreed on the instrumentals of the song you called cindy lou who. You let Yoongi make some changes in your lyrics, but it's nothing major.

"Something that feels delicate and maybe some piano." You described your idea before humming the tune you were thinking of.

By the second glass of wine, you are recording a rough draft of the song. So that you know if your ideas work well. Yoongi suggested to layer your vocals in some parts while you thought of adding a subtle harmony. Surprisingly, you two worked smoothly.

"Should we add some harp? Noah would have liked that."

You were almost done with your third glass of wine when Yoongi heard you mention your ex's name for the first time.

"Maybe we should stop drinking..." he said.

Even though he's in his fourth glass as well, Yoongi is doing better than you. You looked at him while he clicked something on his setup. You wondered if he could feel the cozy, warm feeling you've been feeling from the wine. Because that plain expression cannot really tell you anything, which makes you feel a little frustrated with how you're the only one who seemed to be a little giggly.

"Fine." you rolled your eyes, letting him take your glass from you.

He got up to get something in his room's mini fridge before going back to you, "Water?"

"It's cold," you replied before you could even touch the bottle.

"Okay, diva."

Your eyebrows raised with that, "No! I mean I cannot drink cold water when I'm singing or recording. It's not good for my throat... I'm fine, anyway. Thanks."

"I thought it would help you sober up," he explained, leaning to his chair.

"I'm sober!" you exclaimed defensively. Just a little fuzzy. But you won't admit that to him.

His lips formed into a smug smile, like he was saying, yeah sure. You puffed before fixing your headphones and crossing your arms over your chest. You looked annoyed. Yoongi knows because your nostrils are flared while there's a small pout on your lips. He bites off his inner cheek to stop himself from smiling.

"Should we record again?" he asked.

Still a little annoyed, you didn't say anything and just nodded your head. The instrumental began playing in your headphones seconds later.

‘Tis the season to be jolly But how can I be when I have nobody

The same song plays on your phone while you tap your fingertips in tune with the sleighbells playing in its instrumental. After finishing recording the song, you stay to see how it will turn out. Yoongi didn't seem to mind even though it was already past midnight.

"Do you want to hear the song I mentioned?" you asked him while he worked on the song.

Busy, he answered with a short sure. So, you played the song in a non-distracting volume, reached for the glass of wine you abandoned, and sat on his bed. You were quiet, sometimes humming to the song, but mostly staring at the view outside.

A silent night I know it's gonna be Joy to the world But it's gonna be sad for me

As the snow falls outside, you think of how this is so not how you expected your December is gonna be this year. With Noah being your original bassist, you thought you two would get to enjoy the snow in various cities you're touring in. And maybe even spend Christmas together during your break. But instead, you are now in your new bassist's, with whom you have dumb fights most of the time, hotel room, making holiday songs.

How surprising is that? You thought to yourself before taking one gulf of your wine.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when Yoongi slightly groaned as he stretched his limbs from his chair. You paused the song and collected the wine bottle and your glass like you were ready to go.

"Are you kicking me out yet?" you asked.

He turned around, just to you about to get up from the bed, "What?"

"Maybe my presence distracts you." you joked, which sounds nicer than maybe you don't want me here in your room anymore because you don't like having me here.

He chuckled, a little tired, "No, it's okay. I know you're waiting for the finished version."

"Good. Because I really like your room. You have a great view of the city. The snow looks perfect here." you rambled.

Yoongi looked outside, seeing the wonderful view you were talking about. He wordlessly agrees before getting back to his screen. Watching him, you mumbled.

"If you're tired, we can just finish that tomorrow."

Just like you, the guy also performed hours ago. You two don't along at most times, but you are not that petty to make him overwork.

"No, I'm fine," he shakes his head. "I'll finish this in an hour, just wait there."

"Okay," you put down the bottle on the nightstand.

Yoongi heard the music play again while he edited the song. Eager to finish it tonight, he continued working for what seemed like a few minutes for him. He made sure to add your suggestions and put some elements he thinks would be perfect. After listening to his finished product through his headphones one more time, Yoongi put on a satisfied smile.

"And it's do—"

Yoongi's smile fell when he found you asleep on his bed with the empty wine glass in your hand. It was already 1:24 AM, and he looked at the time. Seeing how peaceful you are in your sleep, he would hate waking you up. Instead, Yoongi got up cleaned up his nightstand, and carefully took your glass. He tried not to chuckle loudly when he heard your small snores. After gently putting the duvet on you, Yoongi took one of the pillows and threw it on the couch that he would take over tonight. He knows it would be awkward to take up the big, empty space next to you.

Dimming down the lights, Yoongi tried to find a comfortable position on the couch. And when he did, he finally closed his eyes and let himself fall asleep.

If it weren't for the buzzing noise next to you, you would have seen where your celebrity crush ended up taking you for a date in your dreams. Groaning, you reached for your phone beside you. Seeing Cal calling, you begrudgingly answered the call.

"Hey, Cal." your voice sounded weak as you just woke up.

"Where the hell are you, YN?! I've been ringing your room. You have a virtual interview at 9."

Your eyebrows furrowed while slowly sitting up, "What do you mean? I'm in my room— Oh, no. Fuck."

The first thing you see when you sit up is Yoongi's compact studio setup, which you don't remember being in your room. You looked around and it just confirmed that you are not in your hotel room. Yoongi is nowhere to be found, you don't hear any noise from the bathroom either.

"Y/N?" Cal spoke again, worried by your sudden pause.

"I-I'm in Yoongi's room." you stuttered, trying to remember your last memory. You were relieved to find yourself still in the same clothes you went with last night.

You heard a gasp from the other line, "Oh my god, YN! Did you hooked—"

"No, no, no! Still in my clothes. Just fell asleep making songs." you babbled, cutting her suspicions off. "Where the fuck is that sock?!"

Is it a talent to lose a fucking sock while asleep? Because if it is, you just added a new title under your name. You were in a hurry, shuffling the bed for that one sock with heart patterns. Cal can only imagine what you look like right now.

"Here!" you exclaimed, immediately putting it on. You rushed to the door after. "I'm going there right— Yoongi!"

Yoongi was right before you. He shared the same shock as you except he was calmer with his eyebrows raised and eyes widened.

"I have to go for an interview. Cal's gonna rip my head off. I'll check the song later. Thank you for letting me stay!"

You were so in a hurry that you were literally spewing words and didn't realize that you leaned to give a quick kiss on his cheek. It registered as you were moving back, making you two stop for a moment, looking at each other in surprise. He gulped, feeling his throat running dry. while you feel every blood run to your cheeks now, feeling warm.

You blinked, "I-I'm gonna go."

Yoongi watched you run to the elevator before looking at the two cups of coffee he was holding.

note | i still have a christmas drabble! haha! hope u liked this one though <33

taglist rules

SERIES TAGLIST (OPEN)

@busanbby-jjk @jimingirl95 @treacherqus @jajabro @marnz1990 @ktownshizzle @notarshia @m00njinnie @thelilbutifulthings @tarahardcore @livisdoingfine @jungshaking @eridanus-lynx @enthralled-bandit

PERMANENT TAGLIST (CLOSED)

@dunixxd @cixrosie @jksjx @embrace-themagic @buttvi @starbtslove @missseoulite @vanntaesworld @kenqki @imajinthis @stopeatread @seolaquotes @greyrain23 @chimchimmarie @petalsofink @jayhope88 @moonchild1 @laylasbunbunny @nikkiordonez12 @misshale21 @marblemoonstones

#bass guitarist! yoongi #yoongi fluff #yoongi x reader #yoongi imagine #yoongi au #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x you #bts drabble #bts aus #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts x you #bts x y/n #yoongi fanfic #bts suga #httpknjoon #love is... on tour myg #Spotify

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tackykachowch · 2 days ago

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I wanted to make this post really extensive, with a lot of screenshots etc, but I'm literally operating at 0% so forgive me this one time.

So, you all know how I'm constantly after season 2's blood because of how it butchered well...Everything, but especially my favorites Silco and Jinx. And what do you know, they even screwed up Silco's glass. Yes. A Glass. Let me explain.

Animators at Fortiche are real professionals, so they know that every object tells a story, so even small things like glasses or cups can tell us a story or let us understand the character better, or even reflect the whole meta of the show. Arcane season 1 really exceeded at this. Going through every scene of this season I noticed that Piltovans use elegant and neat glasses and cups, and the glasses that are particularly used by the councilors are made out of gold. While Zaunites drink from simple glasses without any ornaments, metal mugs or straight-up out of bottles. But there's this one single glass that's different from any other glass or cup in the ENTIRE season - Silco's glass (also Jinx's cup but I'm not gonna talk about it here).

It's made out of simple glass and is pretty bulky to give an association with Zaun, but also has golden ornaments to associate it with Piltover. This single glass perfectly encapsulates Silco as a character - a Zaunite who rejects living under the status quo and who strives to get his people opportunity and freedom Piltover has. Also it reflects his unique position in society - he operates the entirety of the Undercity, yet even this amount of power is barely enough to compete with Piltover. Silco represents the middle of the barrel, a fusion of both cities at their current states. Then, in ep9 it gets destroyed, foreshadowing Silco's death and destruction of the relative peace the two cities had until this time. It's perfect, no notes.

But theeeen we have season 2 *barely disguised rage*. In it we have my favorite flashback out of all of flashbacks ever, where we see- huh??

Silco's glass?? How did it get in there?? And there's THREE of them now???? This is surely some kind of mistake, right? Let's fast forward a bit- WHAT IS IT DOING IN A CAVE????

So, you want to tell me, that an object unique to Silco and Silco only, which perfectly represented his character and even played a minor narrative role, is in fact NOT unique and its destruction in the season 1 finale meant Literally Nothing???? WHAT??????

This is what I meant when I said that s2 jumped headstrong into the fanservice without the second thought about how it impacts the story and characters. You see, Silco now HAS to keep a glass from the times he, Vander and Felicia were friends. He HAS to keep a diary where he says how he admires Felicia, even though nothing indicated that someone inspired him or something of that sort in prior material. (UPD: Also, Silco is more of an idealistic character in the first place. He DOES care about people to some extent, but he always seemed to fight for the idea itself, and not some people in particular. So to give him this new unknown character as part of his primary motivation is....strange, to say the least. It's almost like writers want to make him more sympathetic hmmm). He HAS to keep a photo of the three of them and an "Our Love" record, because he's a sap like that and he lowed his fwiends so wewy much. We already knew Silco had a soft side because he kept things Jinx made for him, we already knew that he hadn't completely let go of the past because he kept Vander's knife. There's no point in adding all this garbage except make the audience go "awwww". It's disgusting and insulting.

But back to the glasses. It makes no sense that the three of them have the glasses and use them, because none of them have any amount of power yet. Moreover, Vander never has ANY Piltovian aesthetic in his design, and Felicia is literally a non-character, so what is exactly the reason to give her such an important object to begin with? I don't know a thing about her, except that she's arcane's most manic pixie girl ever and that by her sheer existence she ruined Silco and Vander's dynamic. Cool. And why would Silco keep the glass with him throughout all these years? And then openly drink out of it in his office? Is it supposed to mean that he carries on the dream the three of them had? But Vander openly rejected this dream, and the remnant of this is located in the very same office (Vander's knife). Orrr maybe um. Maybe. Ughhh. I can't. Think of anything. Hang on. Maaaybeeee it's ssssupposed to represent how Silco's fight for independence went back to the place it started in (The Last Drop)? Okay, maybe, whatever. But then again, what was the purpose of destroying his glass in season 1 ep9 if presumably the two other glasses are still intact? Except Silco dying it doesn't tell us anything, because it lost the previous weight it had in the narrative.

Then we fast forward again to my favorite episode out of all the episodes ever - s2 ep7. In it Silco appears only for a few seconds, but by God are these one of the most destructive few seconds for his character. First he comes to the scene with his flask in hand. A....weird thing to have in a BAR, but okay.

But then as he says the infamous line about forgiveness Vander hands him- oh. Uhhh...A. A Piltovan glass.

Not Silco's glass, or maybe some entirely new glass to represent Zaun's progress as a free nation, but a Piltiovan one. Okay. You were pretty obvious with the line here writers but I guess it wasn't enough.

S2 proceeds to be an insulting, disgusting mess in its every aspect and I will fight with it for the rest of my life.

#i hope this is coherent. i wanted to roll this post out as fast as possible because a few more days and i wouldn't have written it at all #silco arcane #arcane critical #arcane #arcane season 2 #i need the gif with silco beating up someone with legs telepathically play when people read my critical posts bc that's what i look like #when i write them

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fansblogs · 3 days ago

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fan is a narcissist. isn’t it wonderful.

Fan and NPD: The ultimate masterpost. Or something.

Hello! First time posting something this long, so forgive me for any possible inconveniences. The purpose of this post is to explain the grounds of my headcanon and correlate this disorder to Fan, whom I believe showcases it spectacularly, as well as educating on NPD along the way. This does not mean that Fan having NPD is “canon” by any account, but he most certainly displays traits of it, and it’s something I personally believe he has!

Disclaimer that this post is being made by a questioning narcissist. If you associate NPD with abuse, demonize narcissists or so on, please block me. Disorders do not make anybody inherently evil!

..in the making of this, I forgot that tumblr had video limits. To overcome this, I’ve linked most of the scenes I’ve been using for reference when making this post! There’s plenty of times where I start to describe certain scenes, so make sure to click on the link to avoid confusion. Sorry for the inconvenience!

If this format is too cluttered and/or confusing; here’s also the Twitter version of this post.

Lastly, if any PWNPD have things they want to note or add, go ahead!

tags: @moonlightcanyon @box-of-lemon-nys

All of this information is taken straight from the DSM-5. I don’t support nor endorse the ableist view of NPD shown in the DSM, but for the sake of simplicity I’ll be referring to it, as it’s the official diagnostic criteria.

As per the DSM, NPD (Narcissistic Personality Disorder) is defined as “a pervasive pattern of grandiosity, need for admiration, and lack of empathy, beginning by early adulthood and present in a variety of contexts.”

Fan displays all of these traits outstandingly overtly, yet in such a way most people wouldn’t recognize as narcissism. Starting with the first;

“Has a grandiose sense of self-importance (e.g., exaggerates achievements and talents, expects to be recognized as superior without commensurate achievements).”

This has been pertinent since his appearance in S2. In fact, the first line he even speaks in the season is a proclamation of his believed superiority. Fan has based his identity on being the BEST, the #1 fan of Inanimate Insanity.

Though there’s way too many examples of his grandiosity to compile completely, one of my favorites is this theory shown in EP 7, which perfectly displays these behaviors.

He’s confident that his theory is right, that each team will always win twice in a row. Though he provides proof, he notes “Not like you need it, right?”, showing that he believes his word is more than enough to prove something correct. Last but not least, his favorite episode (at the time) was Episode 3, the one where HE won the challenge for his team.

Again, just for the sake of simplicity, i’m picking and choosing scenes so I don’t have to note down every single time he displays this symptom.. but please keep in mind that this is a VERY obvious trait he shows almost constantly.

Though this side note isn’t really intended to be “evidence”, it feels relevant to mention that later in the series, Episode 14 becomes his favorite Episode, yet again another episode focused on his growth and accomplishments.

Another thing important to mention here is that narcissists are SEVERELY sensitive to criticism, which we see multiple times with Fan. Episode 2 of Invitational illustrates this very well with Fan’s reactions to both Cabby’s files and her own spoken criticism of him, even refuting it by blatantly denying his negative behaviors and defending his knowledge. (Timestamp 3:39-3:58)

2. “Is preoccupied with fantasies of unlimited success, power, brilliance, beauty, or ideal love.”

I’d say that this is perhaps the least evidenced of all the traits, but nonetheless, there are a few instances of this. Most relevant to me is Fan’s enjoyment of fanfic, especially the RPF he posted of him and MePhone.

Fan has a VERY, VERY complicated relationship with MePhone. But considering the idolization he has for him, this very much reads as a narcissistic fantasy in my mind. Becoming closer to a person with such power and influence, a person you personally admire and hold great respect for their accomplishments and believe would reach out to you due to your own assumed superiority absolutely falls into the criteria of narcissistic fantasies, something Fan shows very clearly here.

3. “Believes that they are “special” and unique and can only be understood by, or should associate with, other special or high-status people (or institutions).”

This symptom is heavily varied on presentation, and isn’t as cut-and-dry as “wants influential acquaintances.” In my personal experience, this is more akin to your own personal hierarchy, only caring to bond and make an effort to associate with those whom are higher in the hierarchy.

Fan is no stranger to this. He has a clear disdain for many of the contestants and subtly belittles them, such as Lightbulb, Paintbrush, Dough, or Paper. This is not that Fan necessarily dislikes any of his teammates or acquaintances, but he sees them as worse than him, which leads to a proneness of conflict due to his indifference towards their emotions. This also leads into the low-empathy in Section 7.

Meanwhile, someone Fan DOES view as “special” is Test Tube, what one would call a CHP/FP (Chosen Person / Favorite Person). He values her input and greatly idolizes her, and of course, is HEAVILY dependent on her. I can’t even begin to explain the intricacies of their relationship in such a small paragraph.

And in a rare case of Fan refusing to associate with institutions rather people, Episode 5 he remarks that he doesn’t want his egg to hatch into a “sub-par, bowless season”, an obvious projection on his end. (Timestamp 1:32-1:38)

I don’t think he would’ve legitimately made any actions to leave the game given that Bow didn’t appear (despite him assuming that his first interaction with Bow was nothing but a trick of MePhone’s), but his indirect threat of not wanting to be in the game without Bow, finding it too inadequate for him, still stuck with me.

4. “Requires Excessive Admiration.”

Alongside #2, this is probably the other most difficult trait to explain on the list. Fan’s no stranger to subtly fishing for compliments, but that’s the exact problem with him. He’s so subtle that many of the contestants in fact MISS his social cues, and Fan ends up being ignored or degraded instead.

Despite this, it’s clear that he expects praise and admiration from all, even if others don’t outwardly show it often. In the rare not-so subtle cases of Fan looking for acclamation, he outwardly asks for it to boost his ego, motivation, and most of all- excitement, as shown in Nickel’s FFF. (Timestamp 0:16-0:23)

Most of the time however, Fan places himself in positions that could give him commendation, one of my favorites being this short exchange from the Purgatory Stream. Fan has a lot of admiration for Marshmallow, and he tries to impress her with his offer, hoping for approval and kudos. (Timestamp 1:20:12-1:20:20)

(Short break here. Just wanted to mention how much Fan truly adores Marshmallow. Highly encourage anybody reading this to look into it if you haven’t already.)

Multiple times on Fan’s FFF’s, he’s attempted to do quips with his interviewees. In Nickel’s interview, he refers to these as his “fan instincts.” As I was saying earlier about these cues for praise being missed, both Nickel and Balloon react to his references with annoyance, in which Fan responds with aggression and disappointment respectively. In Balloon’s interview especially, it’s clear to see that he thought him referencing Balloon’s catchphrase would earn him a laugh and praise. (Timestamp 10:30-10:38)

5. “Has a sense of entitlement (i.e., unreasonable expectations of especially favorable treatment or automatic compliance with their expectations).”

Perhaps one of Fan’s least hidden symptoms. Again, a trait so glaring that it’s impossible to pinpoint every example.. but of course, my favorite display of this comes from one of the oldest pieces of Fan media, where he VERY clearly shows this. (Timestamp 0:14-0:38)

Though this short is dubiously canon, seeing it within the context of NPD makes a lot of sense to me. Of COURSE Fan’s personality would be far less nuanced when first created, hence his entitlement manifesting very overtly and negatively. Though it does mellow out over time, it never truly disappears, just seeps into different faucets of his personality and actions. (Timestamp 1:37-1:43)

Take here, for example. Fan tries to justify stealing from Cabby, but the truth is simply that he felt he deserved to see what she said about him, not asking her permission first. As Test Tube said, an invasion of privacy, a serious one at that when considering the later reveal of Cabby’s files being her memory aids. Alongside that, the grandiosity he highlights in this scene (think back to Section 1) is amazing. (Timestamp 0:42-1:01)

Just a bonus clip of Fan’s entitlement in relation to this specific conflict. (Timestamp 8:44-9:02)

In another more evident demonstration, Fan simply admitted to filming FFF without OJ’s permission, not even considering the possibility of needing to ask for acceptance to film and host a show inside of the Hotel. In his view, it’s something he wants, and with nobody encouraging against it, therefore it’s his right.

Another thing I really like about this post is how “innocent” Fan comes across here. In my personal experience, entitlement has never been something I intend to be harmful to others, just something I feel I deserve because I am special, not even noticing my egotism with it. I don’t think Fan intended anything wrong with hosting the show, just assumed that OJ would be fine with it, and that he would have no need to ask for permission.

6. “Is interpersonally exploitative (i.e, takes advantage of others to achieve their own ends).”

Very much so! This is one you’d never note down when taking a first glance at Fan, but it happens to be severely true. The way the DSM words it makes it sound inherently malicious, but trust me that this is not commonly how this trait manifests. Everybody tends to be manipulative once in a while, and that doesn’t make it a necessarily negative symptom if utilized in ways that don’t harm others.

For Fan, one of the big signs of this is his tendency of sitting back and letting his team do the work. According to his patterns he’s guaranteed a win, therefore he finds he has no reason to contribute, leaving his teammates to put in the effort to achieve it. (Timestamp 6:44-6:49)

Another thing I find I should add here is that Narcissists don’t usually intend for this manipulation to be.. legitimately evil manipulative. In our minds, we’re not doing anything wrong at all. So what if we use somebody as a means to an ends once in a while? There’s nothing wrong with it, especially if you deserve it. Fan is the same within this regard.

Funnily enough, this pattern of exploitation is a key factor of Fan’s character. Fan is THE #1 Fan of II, and as thus, must know as much about the show and its inhabitants as possible. He frequently uses the information and trivia he has collected about his fellows to steer them into giving him what he wants, no matter if it’s more information on themselves or a reaction, both things Fan finds severe intrigue and entertainment within.

Again, mentioning Nickel’s FFF (there is SO much to deconstruct there), Fan asks Nickel personal and invasive questions for his own entertainment, using Dime’s presence to utilize Nickel’s own self-confidence against him, prompting more honesty. (Timestamp 1:37-2:20)

Last but not least for this section, exploitation can be both conscious and subconscious. Though in my opinion it always seems Fan has some degree of lucidity, it’s clear from this blog post that it’s not all COMPLETELY conscious, some of his manipulative tendencies even flying over his own head.

In this post he mocks a version of himself he believes is far from his own image, failing to notice how often he does take advantage of the others around him. In the end, it all boils down to intentions. This faux version of Fan is comically evil, and Fan believes his own personal intentions are nothing short of moral and understandable.. thus his manipulation not coming across as remotely manipulative to himself, just something he deserves.

7. “Lacks empathy: is unwilling to recognize or identify with the feelings or needs of others.”

A DEFINING characteristic of him. There’s so much to delve into with this specific aspect of his character, it’s practically infinite. For starters, Fan holds zero to none respect for everybody around him, viewing most of the people in his life as nothing more than simple characters.

There’s certain people who break this mold such as Test Tube or Suitcase, but most are confined to it. Even with people that Fan admires, MePhone or OJ for example, he still views as playthings. At that, Fan’s general emotional and mental disconnect from the world feeding into his low empathy leads him into the practice of stalking, in which both MePhone and OJ happen to be targets.

My favorite moments of Fan exhibiting his low empathy always tend to be when he’s alongside Paintbrush. This scene in Episode 7 really puts this into perspective.. despite Paintbrush’s outburst and clear distress, Fan sees their frustration as nothing more than laughable, even predicting the time it would take to happen. (Timestamp 12:50-13:03)

Even Paintbrush momentarily pauses in their outburst, shocked by his insensitive reaction. Later, they threaten Fan with the idea of smashing Baby Shimmer, an impulsive action in the blindness of rage. It really speaks to me how even though Paintbrush was too highstrung to adequately try to analyze Fan’s reaction, they still subconsciously realized that trying to get Fan to empathize with them was near impossible, choosing to instead threaten him in efforts of arising understanding.

Same kind of situation here. Fan only cares about Paintbrush’s emotions when Paintbrush punches him to the ground. This concern is completely unrelated to empathy of Paintbrush’s anger, merely just a self-preserving meekness in fear of being attacked again. And after Fan notices Paintbrush’s “cliche”, his attention is entirely diverted and he instead only focuses on this new discovery, again finding no meaning in Paintbrush’s emotions as his priorities are higher. (Timestamp 9:04-9:20)

Though this quote is more about Fan’s disconnect and escapism, it does highlight his apathy to others as well. I think there’s bits and pieces to be said here about Fan’s low empathy, even if not directly related to it’s portrayal in this context.

8. “Is often envious of others or believes that others are envious of them.”

This symptom, just like majority of the others, is a key trait Fan exhibits. Time and time again, Fan flaunts spiteful and petty behaviors. Especially when provoked, Fan quickly finds himself vindictive and jealous. Though I do believe Fan’s grandiosity makes him believe that he has enviable characteristics, he tends to more outwardly show his jealousy toward others rather than vocalizing the assumed envy others have for him.

As I’ve referenced multiple times over, Episode 2 of Invitational is prime grounds for Fan analysis. This scene in particular shows such an evince of jealousy. Cabby first insults Fan’s formation of his identity, with an implied superiority of intelligence on her side. Watching his reaction is fascinating- first frustration, doubtful vulnerability, anger, then lastly disbelief.

Now, of course, this doesn’t exactly SEEM like jealousy, more-so defensive rage. Yet, it’s both! Fan has a lot of respect for how Cabby plays the game and her general self-image, admiring how professional and knowledgeable she comes across. Considering Test Tube’s proclamation of adoration for Cabby upon their first meeting, Fan instantly marked Cabby as somewhat of competition.

Though he initially pursued a friendship with Cabby, he was quicker to turn on her than Test Tube, due to what I believe to be jealousy. Yes, Cabby is smart, but part of the reason Fan felt entitled to steal from her to prove that he is vasty more intelligent.. making a point that Cabby's notes on him are surface-level and nothing as good as Fan himself could create. When Cabby's file showed criticism of him, he took it even more personally than anticipated, because not only did her notes happen to belittle him, but also were severely impressive.

And as I said, during their confrontation with Cabby, Test Tube’s reaction seemed more disappointed and shocked with Cabby’s assessment of her, far more calm than Fan’s obvious anger. Again, Cabby is deprecating Fan in a way that makes her come across as far more impressive than him, far more mature and intelligent to the both of them. Not only is Cabby damaging Fan’s pride, but he sees her own self-presentation as a threat to how Test Tube perceives HIM.

This little interaction is quite a parade of envy. Vexation and jealousy tend to happen at the same time, something that’s very obviously shown here. (Timestamp 13:08-13:13)

At the end of the Episode during Fan’s elimination, Fan takes the news FAR more calmly than one would expect. Yet, this is mostly a facade, one to make himself seem far more composed and impressive than he actually is; by being so envious of Cabby, he holds himself to coming across just as dignified as she does. In matter of fact, Fan and Cabby share many of the same traits despite how differently they may manifest between them, and Fan sees part of himself in her. And for Fan.. my, is it terribly demeaning to meet somebody who’s like you but BETTER. The envy he holds is gnawing at his core.

9. “Shows arrogant, haughty behaviors or attitudes.”

As expected, a Fan special. I honestly wish I had more commentary on this symptom, but it’s so blatant and pertinent throughout his entire runtime on the show that I can’t offer up much variation that isn’t already obvious enough.

Citing this scene for example, this is clearly arrogance mixed with jealousy. Not only does he believe he’s far better than what Cabby has said about him, but he’s also jealous that Cabby comes across as more intimidating than him. (Timestamp 5:00-5:11)

Another really good presentation. His haughtiness causes him to act defensively, attempting to reassure to both himself and the Shimmers that he is in fact a threat bigger than them. When met with even more denial of his self-assumed daunting, he merely pushes it out of mind, believing that yes, he has fearful qualities about him and that his “lower score is preferable.” (Timestamp 12:05-12:30)

As per the DSM, NPD is diagnosed when patients meet 5 out of the 9 traits. In the case of this essay.. I managed to correlate Fan to all 9 symptoms. Though some are certainly more pervasive than others, I do believe Fan meets the full criteria… Which brings me to the end of my essay!

I have SO many thoughts about this that I couldn’t all squish into this already lengthy post. Please feel free to ask me anything about this at all, as somebody with a special interest in Fan, I could go on for HOURS.

And last but not least, if you have any questions on the topic of NPD (related to Fan or not) I’d also absolutely love to answer!

And with that.. Fan is absolutely a narcissist. Thanks for listening <3

#aqua’s yaps #fan ii #ii fan #fan inanimate insanity #inanimate insanity fan #ii analysis

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societyfolklore · 2 days ago

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Icebreaker

Title: Icebreaker (Prompt- i didn't fall on the ice, it was a trick) Pairing: Loki x Asgardian!Female Reader

Summary: Sparring with Loki is never simple, especially when his sharp tongue and smug demeanour make focusing a challenge. But today, you’re determined to get the better of him-even if it means playing dirty. Word Count: 2k

Warnings: /Warnings // Fighting, Fluff, Flirting, tension, No Beta

A/N: Another entry for @the-slumberparty December daze challenge …. Day 30

The 'battlefield' stretched out before you, a vast expanse of snow and ice shimmering under the pale Asgardian sun. The air was sharp and cold, your breath forming clouds with every exhale. Snow crunched underfoot, and the faint hum of distant voices marked where others were training further down the field. The icy chill seeped through your gloves, but you ignored it, rolling your shoulders and flexing your fingers. The faint bite of the cold against your cheeks was almost refreshing-a sharp contrast to the heat of frustration simmering within you.

Across from you, Loki stood, the epitome of poise and arrogance. Dressed in his dark leather and fur-lined cloak, he looked entirely unaffected by the cold, as though winter itself wouldn’t dare inconvenience him. His black hair was slicked back, and his sharp blue eyes glittered with amusement as he watched you prepare for the sparring match. Even standing still, he looked effortless, his presence commanding the space between you like a storm waiting to break.

This was supposed to be a 'friendly' training session, a chance to hone your skills on the ice and improve your footing in more treacherous terrains. But Loki seemed to have a different interpretation of the word "friendly." From the moment the session began, he’d done little but taunt you, his biting remarks cutting deeper than the cold air ever could. His sole aim, it seemed, was to amuse himself by embarrassing you, rather than helping you improve. “Are you quite ready, darling?” he drawled, his voice smooth and taunting, laced with just enough condescension to needle under your skin. “Or shall I fetch you a warmer cloak? I wouldn’t want you to catch a chill.”

You shot him a glare, tugging your gloves tighter. “Save your concern, Loki. I’m more than capable of handling a little cold… just as you are.”

Loki’s lips curved into a smirk, his expression one of infuriating confidence. “Bold words from someone who has yet to land a single blow.”

Your jaw tightened, heat prickling at the edges of your resolve. Loki always had a way of getting under your skin, his words carefully crafted to provoke. It seemed as though he had only volunteered for this task to create sport for himself, Loki was enjoying tearing you down. The Prince was using every opportunity to highlight your flaws rather than help you improve. Worse he thrived on your irritation, using it to unsettle you just enough to give him the advantage. But this time, you wouldn’t let him win-not without a fight. If you could even call what you were trying to do a fight.

“You’d do well to save your breath, Loki,” you said sharply, breathing hard as he resumed your stance again, puffs of steam coming from you with ever heaving breath you took. “You’ll need it when you’re flat on your back in the snow.”

His laughter was rich, unbothered, and entirely too confident. “Is that a threat? Or are you simply hoping for a chance to mount me? Even if it is fully clothed?” His eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned in slightly, the movement deliberate, calculated. “Though I must say, darling, you’re far more compelling in this state, all pink and panting.”

You refused to let him see the flush spreading across your cheeks, even as his words made your stomach twist in a way that was both thrilling and infuriating. “And here I thought you were trying to teach me something useful,” you shot back, tilting your head. “Instead, it seems you’ve only come to admire the view.”

Loki’s grin deepened, his gaze flickering down and back up with a deliberate slowness that made your skin prickle. “Can you blame me?” he replied, his voice low and smooth, like velvet. “You do cut quite the figure. Almost makes me wish I could freeze the moment forever.”

You rolled your eyes, stepping closer despite yourself, your boots crunching in the snow. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Loki. I’m not as easily distracted as you think.”

“A shame,” he said, his tone dripping with mock disappointment. “Though, I must admit, your determination to resist me is endlessly entertaining. You truly think you can outmatch me?”

You smirked, leaning just close enough to challenge him. “Keep talking, Prince. It makes it all the more satisfying when I prove you wrong.”

You lunged first, aiming for his shoulder, but Loki sidestepped effortlessly, his movements as fluid as water. He twisted away, countering with a graceful swipe that you barely dodged. Snow sprayed around you as you pivoted, aiming for his side, only for Loki to block your strike with infuriating ease. His steps were light, deliberate, and entirely too elegant for someone in the midst of battle. His confidence wasn’t just a shield; it was a weapon, wielded as deftly as any blade.

“Is that the best you can do?” he teased, his voice light with mockery. His smirk widened as he added, “Perhaps you should leave this to the warriors. It’s no shame, darling, to admit you’re outmatched.”

“Perhaps you should shut up,” you snapped, striking again. He parried, his smirk never faltering, his movements as infuriatingly precise as ever. Each dodge and counter felt like a dance you weren’t quite invited to lead.

Loki’s movements were so graceful, it was as though he anticipated your every strike before you even committed to it. He made no wasted effort, no missteps, his steps a calculated display of control that made your frustration boil. Still, you refused to relent. You could see the glimmer of amusement in his eyes, the way he delighted in your every failed attempt.

The sparring continued, a relentless dance of attack and evade. Loki moved like a shadow, always a step ahead, his sharp wit cutting as deeply as his blade ever could. Frustration bubbled in your chest as he dodged yet another strike, his laughter ringing out across the field like the low rumble of thunder. His voice came again, a low drawl that set your teeth on edge. “I must commend your enthusiasm, does such stamina appear in your other activities?”

Each taunt only fuelled your determination, but the disparity between his skill and yours was glaring. Every counter of his seemed effortless, every failed attempt of yours only driving home his superiority.

Finally, an idea formed. If you couldn’t beat him outright, you’d have to outsmart him. Loki might be faster, more skilled, and undeniably more composed, but even he had a weakness: his arrogance.

You feigned a misstep, your foot sliding on the icy ground as you let out a sharp cry. Your arms flailed as you tumbled to the ground, landing in a heap of snow. The cold bit through your armour, but you ignored it, focusing instead on Loki. The tumble was clumsy, exaggerated just enough to appear genuine-and just enough to make his smirk widen in triumph.

Predictably, he halted, standing over you with a triumphant grin.

“Oh dear,” he said, crouching slightly, his tone dripping with mock concern. “Shall I call for a healer? Or perhaps ice skating lessons?” He tilted his head, studying you as though your fall was a puzzle he had already solved. “Though, I must say, seeing you like this… it’s rather endearing.”

You let out a breathy laugh, feigning embarrassment.

“Maybe I’m not as steady as I thought,” you muttered, looking up at him with what you hoped was just the right mix of chagrin and appeal. “Could you help me up?”

His brows raised, a flicker of amusement crossing his face. “And deprive myself of the sight of you humbled? Hardly,” he replied smoothly, his tone teasing. Yet, despite his words, there was an unmistakable glint in his eye, one that suggested he was savouring this moment just a little too much.

The moment he leaned closer, his balance shifting, you struck. Sweeping your leg out, you caught his ankles, pulling them out from under him. Loki’s eyes widened in surprise as he fell backward, landing flat on his back with a muffled grunt. Snow puffed into the air around him, and for a moment, you could only stare, satisfaction blooming in your chest.

You scrambled to your feet, brushing snow from your clothes as you looked down at him with a triumphant grin. “You talk too much,” you said, crossing your arms, your voice laced with smug satisfaction.

Loki lay there for a moment, staring up at the sky, his expression unreadable. Snow clung to his dark hair and framed his sharp features in a way that made him look oddly vulnerable, though the faint twitch of his lips betrayed his amusement. Then, with deliberate care, he sat up, brushing snow from his shoulders. The motions were methodical, almost regal, as though even the indignity of falling couldn’t fully disarm him. It was infuriating.

“I’ll admit,” he began, his voice smooth but with an edge of irritation, “you’re far more cunning than I gave you credit for. But don’t mistake one clever move for a victory, darling.” His sharp blue eyes flicked up to meet yours, a glint of warning in their depths.

You tilted your head, unable to resist pushing him just a little further. “Sounds like something a sore loser would say,” you teased, brushing a fleck of snow from your sleeve with exaggerated care. “Admit it, Loki. I got you fair is fair.”

His smirk returned, sharper this time, and he rose to his feet with his usual effortless grace, the movement smooth enough to make you wonder if he’d really been caught off guard. “Fair?” he echoed, his tone dripping with mockery as he stepped closer, closing the distance between you. “Oh, darling, if that’s what you call fair play, I shudder to think what your idea of cheating might look like.”

You held your ground, meeting his gaze without flinching, though your heart raced at his proximity. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” you replied, your voice steady despite the flutter of nerves in your chest.

Loki chuckled, low and rich, the sound curling around you like smoke. “Oh, I would,” he murmured, his voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down your spine. “In fact, I might insist on finding out. After all, it’s only fair that I�� return the favour.”

You arched a brow, refusing to let him see how his words affected you. “You’re welcome to try, Loki. But I doubt you’ll have much luck.”

He laughed again, softer this time, and took a deliberate step back, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer. “Consider this round yours, then,” he said, his tone light but with an undercurrent of challenge. “But don’t get too comfortable. I'll have you on your back again sooner than you think.”

His words lingered in the air, heavy with implications that had nothing to do with sparring. You caught the faintest flicker of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth, the gleam in his eyes unmistakable. He wasn’t talking about combat anymore-and you knew it.

“You’re awfully confident for someone who’s just been bested,” you quipped, your voice steady despite the heat that crept up your neck. You refused to let him see how his insinuation rattled you, though the flutter in your chest told you he’d already achieved his goal.

Loki tilted his head, his expression one of lazy amusement. “Confidence, my dear, is merely knowing that the game is far from over. One round does not make a victor… or a conquest.”

Your breath hitched, but you quickly masked it with a scoff, stepping closer. “Big words for someone still dusting snow off their back. I’d say you’re the one underestimating your opponent.”

“Perhaps,” he murmured, his gaze dipping briefly to your lips before snapping back to your eyes. “But underestimation can be… strategic.”

You narrowed your eyes, stepping even closer until you were mere inches apart. “Keep talking, Prince,” you said, a daring edge in your tone. “But don’t think for a second I’ll let you win the next one.”

He leaned in, just enough for his breath to ghost over your cheek, his voice a low purr. “Oh, darling, I don’t plan to win. I plan to enjoy the fight.”

#loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki laufeyson #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki oneshot #loki imagine #loki x you #loki x yn #loki odinson #loki marvel #writing challenge #loki fluff and smut #loki fluff #navy and roo's sleepover #december daze

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virrtualangel · 2 days ago

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Beatle movie ranking

!!ALL MY OPINION DONT KILL ME I LIKE ALL THESE MOVIES THIS IS JUST FOR FUN!!

5.Let It Be

Honestly, it’s just a shortened version of the Get Back documentary. it’s essentially the same as Get Back excluding a few scenes.

i’m more inclined to rewatch Get Back over Let It Be because it’s more footage to comb through.

4.magical mystery tour

I am very well aware that this wasn’t a great time in their career. and for what it’s worth i do really enjoy the album. the movie itself is extremely confusing for me to understand. the only thing bringing it higher then Let It Be is just how much i enjoy the visuals. the music video segments are definitely a highlight, they’re delightful and visually appealing to see. UNFORTUNATELY…i do not know a single thing going on and what i did understand i didn’t entirely find interesting. The concept itself is a nice one, the execution however, wasnt. it’s framed like a family guy episode almost, where it would cut to a scene with no explanation. ringo’s aunt as a character didn’t add much to the movie for me, it felt like they were trying to do the whole paul’s grandfather from hard days night again but it just didn’t work for me. the wizards are nice and that might’ve been the only thing i personally enjoyed in the movie.

3.hard days night

Their first movie, woohoo! definitely the most grounded film they’ve been in. it’s perfect to show the sheer insanity of beatlemania in the early 60s and the beatles personalities and humor. the music video segments are lovely and delightful to watch. It flows very naturally with one another and each bit leading up to the big show is just as goofy as they are. paul’s grandfather is such a devious guy and works as a hilarious way to push the movie forward in terms of conflict. the managers and people alongside the beatles are also just as entertaining. the entire cast just plays off one another and overall it’s a wonderful watch.

2.yellow submarine

If Magical Mystery Tour was bad confusing nonsense then yellow submarine is good confusing nonsense. because at least there is a clear story and no family guy cutaways. being their one and only animated movie it’s such a beautiful and eccentric movie. the different animation styles used and colors of each new land they explore in is such a delightfully unique way to mirror the music used in the movie. each new area full to the brim with whimsy and color. even if it’s random, jeremy hillary boob ph.d as an extra main lead was such a lovely little addition to an already silly cast. admiral fred and the blue meanies are another set of great characters within the film that again just push the constant whimsy and eccentricity of the film.

1.help!

The only fault with this movie is the blatant cultural appropriation within it. it’s very obviously a product of its time. that being said i love everything else about this movie. it’s the funniest movie they’ve been in and despite rewatching it every now and then it’s still a wonderful time. every character from the cult members to the scientists and of course the beatles themselves bring so much personality and humor to the movie. the writing and cinematography is wonderful, this entire movie is a delight. the music video segments are so so so well done and fit into the story well. the entire movie is definitely worthwhile regardless if you know much about the beatles or not, it’s just a wonderful time.

all movies are definitely worth the watch despite my opinion!! this was for fun feel free to put your own input i’m open to discussion bc film review is epic, if this post does well maybe i’ll start posting more film related content��maybe…

#the beatles #film review #film recommendations #let it be #magical mystery tour #hard days night #yellow submarine #help! movie #hyperfixation alert #john lennon #paul mccartney #george harrison #ringo starr #richard lester #the fixation is fixating #film critique #please don’t flop

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celebtf · 2 days ago

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Wow, you replaced Justin Bieber, Shawn Mendes and Alex Sampson - great! But what's about athletes like Nico Hischier? He's a star in the NHL and the no. 1 draft from 2017. Any chance to read something about him?

THE NHL SECRET

The locker room was silent, save for the faint hum of the flickering fluorescent lights. Adam Keefe sat slouched in a chair across from his brother Sheldon, his face a twisted mask of frustration.

“I can’t take it anymore,” Adam growled, his voice thick with bitterness. “Sitting on the sidelines, watching other men live the life I was meant for. I’m nothing now. A washed-up coach in Belfast.”

Sheldon’s lips curled into a slow, malevolent smile. “You’re more than that, Adam,” he said, his voice dripping with false sympathy. “You’re my brother. And I don’t leave my family behind.”

Adam looked up, his eyes narrowing. “What are you saying?”

Sheldon leaned forward, his face inches from Adam’s. “I can give you your life back. Youth. Strength. Everything you’ve lost. But it comes at a price.”

Adam hesitated. “What kind of price?”

Sheldon’s smile widened, revealing teeth that seemed sharper than before. “We’ll need someone to take your place. Someone who’ll disappear without anyone suspecting a thing.”

Adam stared at him, suspicion flickering in his eyes. But Sheldon’s gaze was unwavering, cold, and calculating.

“Who?” Adam asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Sheldon leaned back, his smile turning into a smirk. “I’ve got someone in mind.”

Nico Hischier was dragging himself to his locker after practice, his body screaming in protest. Coach Keefe had worked him harder than ever, pushing him to the brink.

“Captain,” Sheldon’s voice rang out, sharp and commanding. “Locker room. Now.”

Nico frowned but obeyed, trudging into the dimly lit room. A single chair sat in the center, the overhead light casting an eerie glow.

“What’s this about, Coach?” Nico asked, his voice tinged with unease.

Sheldon didn’t answer. Instead, the door slammed shut behind him, and the lights snapped off.

Nico felt hands grab him, rough and unrelenting. He thrashed, but he was no match for the strength holding him down. His wrists and ankles were bound to the chair, and a filthy sock was shoved into his mouth, muffling his cries.

The lights flickered back on, revealing Sheldon standing beside another man—Adam Keefe.

Sheldon stepped forward, his shadow looming over Nico. “You’ve been such a good captain, Nico,” he said, his tone mocking. “But every leader has to make sacrifices.”

Nico’s eyes widened in terror, his muffled screams filling the room. Sheldon grabbed his face roughly, forcing Nico to look at him.

“Do you know how long I’ve been planning this?” Sheldon hissed, his voice dripping with malice. “You’ve got everything—youth, strength, skill. You don’t deserve it.”

Adam chuckled darkly. “And I do.”

Sheldon released Nico and turned to Adam. “Put on his gear. It’s time.”

Adam hesitated for a moment, then began stripping Nico’s equipment piece by piece. Nico squirmed and thrashed, but the ropes held firm. Sheldon watched with a gleeful smirk as Adam pulled on the gear, each piece fitting him perfectly.

Then the chanting began.

The words were harsh and guttural, slicing through the air like knives. The temperature in the room plummeted, and a dark energy seemed to envelop them.

Adam’s body began to change. His muscles bulged, veins throbbing beneath his skin as his frame expanded. His shoulders widened, his posture straightened, and his skin took on a youthful glow. His face contorted, reshaping itself into Nico’s. His hair darkened, growing out to match Nico’s perfectly.

Adam groaned, his voice deepening and shifting until it was identical to Nico’s. When the transformation was complete, he stood before the real Nico—a flawless copy.

Adam-Nico turned to the mirror, his lips curling into a wicked smile. He flexed his arms, admiring the raw power coursing through his new body.

“This... this is incredible,” Adam-Nico said, running his hands over his chest and arms. He turned back to Nico, who was trembling in the chair.

“How does it feel?” Adam-Nico taunted, stepping closer. “To see someone better living your life?”

Sheldon laughed, clapping his brother on the back. “Go on, Captain. Rest up. Big game tomorrow.”

Adam-Nico grabbed his bag and strode out, his laughter echoing in the hall.

Sheldon turned back to Nico, his eyes gleaming with sadistic delight.

“You didn’t think we were done, did you?” he sneered.

Nico’s muffled screams intensified as Sheldon began chanting again, his voice lower, more menacing. The air in the room seemed to vibrate with dark energy.

Nico’s body convulsed, his muscles withering and shrinking. His skin sagged, wrinkles carving deep lines into his face. His hair turned gray, then white, before thinning to nearly nothing. His hands trembled as they aged, veins standing out like brittle roots.

The pain was excruciating, his body burning as it transformed into someone decades older—someone he didn’t recognize.

By the time Sheldon finished, Nico was no longer Nico. He was Adam Keefe.

The new Adam looked down at his gnarled hands, his voice a hoarse whisper. “What... what did you do to me?”

Sheldon crouched in front of him, his grin predatory. “You’re nothing now. Just an old has-been.”

The door swung open, and Adam-Nico strolled back in, smirking. “Forgot my jock,” he said, then froze, his gaze landing on the new Adam.

“Well, well,” Adam-Nico said, his tone mocking. “Looks like the mighty captain’s fallen.”

The brothers laughed, their cruelty palpable.

“You’ll get used to it,” Sheldon said coldly. “Or not. We don’t really care.”

The two grabbed the real Nico—now Adam—and dragged him out.

As they threw him into the car, Sheldon whispered, “You were never going to win. This was always our game.”

The brothers’ laughter echoed as they drove off, leaving Nico broken and defeated.

The brothers had won, reveling in their twisted triumph.

And Nico? He had lost everything.

#celebrity tf #body swap #celebtf #transformation #gay #male body suit #malebody swap #male shapeshift #body switch #character transformation #nhl hockey #new jersey devils #nico hischier

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uhhlifeig · 2 days ago

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Champagne - Dec. 26th - word count: 624 - @wolfstarmicrofic

Sirius sighed, swilling his champagne and looking around the extravagant ballroom for someone, anyone, to distract himself with.

It was all his parents’ fault. Stupid Walburga and stupid Orion had arranged a ball for him to meet a ‘proper lady’ so that he could produce an heir. Pish fucking posh, who cared?

Well, the effort was going to be wasted anyway. Sirius had no interest in women, absolutely none.

All he really wanted at this point in time was for a knight in shining armor to grab him and run, but alas, all of the knights in the castle were fucking pricks.

Sirius put his drink down, making up his mind. He would sneak out of the castle and hopefully never return.

Of course, he had to bring his brother as well, so he made a quick pit stop.

“Reg,” he called. “Reg, I’m leaving. Come with me?”

Regulus looked up from his book. “Oh, sure,” he said, getting up. “Where to?”

“Anywhere but here,” Sirius answered. He kept looking behind him at every slightest noise, afraid that it was Walburga coming to get him. “C’mon, hurry up.”

“I am hurrying,” Regulus grumbled. They left his room together, and Sirius went to a particular window where he knew a makeshift rope lay. He secured the rope to a rock that poked out, and looked back at his brother.

“Alright, Reg. You want to go first?” Sirius asked. “Or do you want me to go first?”

“You go, Sirius, I’ll keep watch,” Regulus replied.

Sirius descended the wall, holding onto the rope tightly the whole time. He thanked Merlin that Walburga and Orion had not thought to install a moat yet, so he was perfectly fine when he reached the bottom.

“Come, now, Regulus,” he called. “Let us go forth into the world and spread word of how batshit crazy our parents are!”

Regulus descended the rope as well. “Now where do we go?” he asked.

“You come with us,” said a voice.

Both Regulus and Sirius jumped.

“W-who are you?” Sirius asked, pushing Regulus behind him, shielding him with his body, as he was so accustomed to doing. “What do you want?”

“Oh, shit. We’re in the dark, James, they can’t see us,” another voice called. “Sorry!”

Two guys on horseback moved out of the shadows. There was a tall one with a lot of scars, and there was another with messy hair.

“Sorry, guys,” Messy Hair said. “I’m James. James Potter. That right there,” he pointed at his friend, who gave a little wave, “is Remus Lupin. We’re here to- uhm, save you, I guess.”

“What?” Sirius was too busy admiring how pretty the scarred one was to understand a single word that was said.

“Me James,” James said, gesturing at himself with a big arm movement. “This Remus,” he gestured at his friend, who glared at him. “We save you now.”

“But where are you taking us?” Regulus asked.

“To camp,” Remus said. “We’ll explain on the way. Prince Sirius, you’re with me. Prince Regulus, you’re with James.”

Sirius was pretty happy with this turn of events, actually. So he got onto Remus’s horse, behind Remus. Regulus did the same with James on his horse.

And they were off.

“So, uh, where are we going?” Sirius asked Remus.

“To camp. James and I are part of a group that wants to overthrow your parents, and from what we’ve gotten from the spies in the castle, you also probably want that,” Remus answered, keeping his eyes trained on the path.

And Merlin, Sirius found that hotter than he should have.

“Mhm, great,” Sirius said.

As it turned out, a knight in shining armor did save him that day, and he couldn’t be happier.

(im alive guys dw) (my mom made me leave my laptop at home bc we had a trip to the beach and i hate writing and posting microfics on my phone sooo)

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kruegerspillow · 8 hours ago

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the look of love ; jayce talis

creators note: never really wrote for arcane so for my first time i gave my best shot! this'll be a series and ill try my best to write jayce :) bear with me guys

word count: 1.5k

warnings: none, though the reader is said to have brown hair & glasses, eventual smut, not proofread.

part one — part two

Years of study, years of forcing your brain to absorb all the knowledge that had been spreaded out on the table in front of you.

That's what it takes for you to enter Piltover Academy. Complete agony and exhaustion behind that smile of yours. Though, it's worth it, right? Being accepted into the university you've longed for in the past years, hell, maybe even decades.

Hundreds of pearly whites were shown to you as you entered the building, the smell of different kinds of... rich fragrance hitting your nostrils. You held back every muscle in your face to not scrunch up in disgust. Your gaze shifted away from the people and onto the edifice. The building itself had greatly structured walls and ceilings. That's one thing to admire, at least. Statues were placed here and there, being the center of attention in the crowd forming around you, but that's not enough to shake off the annoyance building up on your shoulders.

A familiar, grand voice spoke up as the whole building abruptly went quiet. Your movements halted, taken aback by the sudden loss of commotion. More and more people gathered around the center of the room and, out of fear of missing out, you squeezed into the suffocating crowd. There stood the golden boy of Piltover on the stage.

“Good evening people of the future,” Jayce greeted, voice filled with warmth and determination. “Hope everyone's doin' alright.”

He cleared his throat, placing the papers on the podium as the crowd cheered loudly. You, too, clapped for him.

“Right,” he paused for a moment as the crowd's cheers died down. “It's been... a while, ever since the invention of Hextech. Since then, the glorious city of Piltover has been working its way to a brighter, easier future.”

A small bead of sweat slid down his forehead, “I was a nobody— my family used to create hammers that are probably used to make the stage I'm on. You see that?”

He pointed to the Hextech building that could be seen through the skylight of the University. The audience paused, taking their time as they listened to his speech. Your gaze shifted from him to the building, your heart thumping against your chest— for what? You don't know exactly.

“Hextech couldn't have done it without you all," Jayce spoke. “And, I, as the Hextech inventor, will keep fighting for a brighter future. For our brighter future!”

And the crowd roared as he spoke his finishing line, a cheeky smile tugging onto the corner of his lips as he stepped down from the stage. People gathered around him, asking him all sorts of questions and begging him for his signature or a handshake. You, though, didn't move a single inch from your previous position; having just arrived into the university.

Jayce accepted the attention the crowd was giving him, answering the questions with ease, shaking their hands and writing down his signature on a piece of paper. Your brain seemed to stop working before you snapped out of your trance. You didn't have the desire to talk to him (yes, you do.) After all, he's a busy man with a busy career, what's he got for someone like you? You're fresh out of the oven, still clueless and would ramble away about some kind of nonsense that he wouldn't be interested in. So, you decided to play it safe and made your way through the horde to get to your room.

Jayce smiled awkwardly as more and more people began appearing, causing him to pause or trip over his own words; but he's good. He's good at hiding it all behind his facade. His gaze shifted before abruptly meeting your eyes, noticing the conflict in them. He'd never seen anyone so... ahem, unbothered. Your chocolate-colored eyes, gazing into nothingness while people surrounded him, crushing him with questions and pleas. The whole world seemed to stop spinning as he paused for a moment, taking his time to gaze over you before he was interrupted with another request.

What? Were you not interested in him? Was his speech too straightforward? Or was it too bland?

His thoughts scattered over one another as the amount of people began to gradually decrease, having their feeling of satisfaction after he'd answered every single one of their questions. Eventually, all the chattering from the people died down; and, soon, they're all dismissed.

But it was too late.

You were no longer in his sight and he was left with his own thoughts. Jayce was never good at pushing these doubts away. Making everyone pleased with even the slightest scent of his cologne was his goal, yet, your absence left him with a heavy heart. Fuck, he doesn't even know you... yet.

His eyes were glued onto the spot where you'd stood in the middle of the crowd, his gaze hazy and mind full of thoughts— but he knows better than to cry over spilled milk. He turned on his heels, adjusting his suit before hastily making his way back to the Hextech lab. His hands clenched into fists as he planned his next speech, wishing that you'd be at least slightly impressed by him. Getting to know you was his next step to getting rid of his little-to-no information about you. And, maybe, he'd ask Viktor... if he's even aware of the new visitor in the Piltover Academy.

“Viktor,” Jayce called out to his partner, his voice nearly echoing through the Hextech lab.

Viktor, who took his time turning around, glanced at him over his shoulder before shooting him a look of curiosity. Jayce seemed… conflicted. That made Viktor’s curiosity ignite. One of his eyebrows curled up, waiting for Jayce to continue his sentence. Jayce shut the door behind him, a look of uncertainty washing over his expressions.

“Jayce.” Viktor quipped, his voice low and steady.

Jayce cleared his throat, taking a seat on one of the chairs as he placed his leg over the table. He tried to look casual, he really did, though Viktor was observant enough to notice the beads of sweat sliding down his temple. The silence took over the conversation, creating this unbearable silence before Jayce eventually broke it.

“Quick question, ahem, my partner.” Jayce paused, “did you notice any new… visitors around the University of Piltover? Or, perhaps, around the Hextech building?”

Viktor gave him a look of indifference, clearly taken aback by the sudden question. Though, his gaze eventually fell onto the floor as he pondered the new faces he’d seen today. Quite a lot, Viktor thought to himself. Jayce had his fingers crossed, hoping for any information regarding you, peculiarly.

“New visitors…” Viktor repeated. “There were a lot of new visitors today. But if you have someone in mind— specifying them would help.”

Jayce cleared his throat, murmuring incoherent words as he leaned back against the chair. His brows furrowed, the memories of you seemingly disappearing one by one as soon as someone asks about them.

“Uh, no, well— well yes, actually.” Jayce stumbled over his words, his mind clouded by thoughts.

Viktor tilted his head to the side, finding Jayce's reply amusing to him. Curiosity piqued, and Jayce finally gathered himself.

“They wore glasses, uh… They have brown hair, not too long but not too short, y'know? And..." Jayce trailed off, trying to squeeze the memories out. "Yeah, that's all I remember.”

“Hm…”

“You've got any idea?”

“... No.”

Viktors reply caused Jayce's shoulders to sag. Jayce slumped back against his chair, his gaze falling onto the floor beneath him. Viktor furrowed his brows, taking a few steps closer to him.

“Why?” Viktor asked, curiosity evident in his voice. “Are you interested?”

“What? Pfft, no, nonsense.” Jayce replied, getting his leg off of the desk. “It's just… I don't know, they seemed so uninterested in my speech earlier.”

“Bruised your ego?”

“Hah! You wish,” Jayce retorted, his voice shifting to his usual playful one.

Viktor scoffed softly before turning his back towards Jayce, walking back to his original position as he glanced around the blueprints distributed onto the table. That caught Jayce's attention. He stood up from his chair, making his way to Viktor.

“Still looking at the blueprints?” Jayce murmured, “shouldn't you be sleeping, partner?”

The silence lingered for a moment, Jayce's question falling on deaf ears. Jayce furrowed his brows, his hand reaching up to touch Viktor's shoulder, though, instead, it hovered over him.

“Hey.” Jayce called out once more, causing Viktor to snap himself out of his thoughts.

Jayce's hand soon found Viktor's shoulder, giving him a light squeeze before taking a step front to stand right beside him. Jayce's brows furrowed, eyes filled with concern and care while Viktor stood there silently. Viktor's hand grabbed on the edge of the table, leaning forward onto the table. Soon enough, Viktor turned on his heels once more before walking towards the door.

“I should be sleeping.” Viktor spoke, his voice unfaltering.

Jayce watched silently, brows furrowed and his expression nearly pleading. Viktor took his cane and silently walked out the door.

“Goodbye.” He greeted Jayce as he left the room.

The door closed with a small click, and Jayce was left alone, once again. A small frown tugged into the corner of his lips, causing him to nearly pout. One of his hands made their way to his forehead, rubbing against his temple as he leaned back on the table. He had no reason to be so… worked up today. Did he?

#jayce talis #arcane #jayce talis x reader #jayce x reader #jayce talis x you #jayce talis fluff #sigh.. happy new years #my first fanfic in 2025!!!!!!!!#arcane jayce x reader #jayce arcane x reader #idk this is kinda bad lmao im not even halfway in watching arcane sorry guys #kruegerspillow #arcane jayce #my shaylaaaa #i heart him!!!#jayce talis arcane

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trinlovessoobin · 2 days ago

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╰┈➤ speed drive

{san x fem!reader y/n}

quick description: san is a street racer and so are you aka y/n he has a big ego and so do you but he also finds you very attractive and makes a bet if we wins the race against you…

word count 2.5k

[warning of content]. unprotected sex(use protection yall), cum on stomach, use of pet names (baby, sweetie), winning kink, ego kink, (lmk if I forgot one it’s been a million years since i’ve posted on here)

you’ve heard san’s name many times he’s one of the best speed racers in the male league and you were one of the best in the female league but the this new race you entered was unlike your other races it’s all genders, you knew you were going to see him in fact you hoped you would not only did you hear about how good he is but you’ve also heard about how cocky he is. you wanted so badly to meet him and beat him in a race and this was your chance. you went by your racer name in case you ever got caught no one would know your real name. angel was your cover name. you wondered if san’s name was actually san.

you began to get ready putting your hair into a slick back pony tail this way your hair wouldn’t get in your face during the race. when you arrived at the road where it was taking place it was a straight shot for most of the road but then turns onto a slimmer road. it was surrounded by fields completely secluded where no one would hear their loud engines. your car was your baby, you had completed remodeled the inside putting in your own engine, it was a 2020 chevrolet corvette with a hot pink wrap and pink leather seats. you had replaced the engine with a toyota 2JZ-GTE, you loved the way the car would purr once it started up. when you pulled up to the spot people instantly started to crowd you. not to flex or anything but you were fairly popular amongst the street racing community when another car pulled up beside you. a matt black honda NSX. you couldn’t help but admire the car she was beautiful, when a man just as beautiful stepped out “It’s san!! he’s so hot” you hear girls say behind oh. so this is san

you walk up to him to introduce yourself but it seems like he already knows you “angel” he says with a smirk

“I cannot wait to race you, truly, it’ll be an honor to beat you”

“how are you so sure you’re gonna win? you’ve never seen me race don’t be so cocky. it’ll make you look like a fool once you lose”

you give him a sarcastic smile then walk over to the person who will be judging the race just to get the basics of rout.

once everyone is settled in the races begin a few lesser known racers begin to race each other each time the man one but this didn’t worry you since every single girl racer you’ve beat with flying colors. the last race is going on before yours and san’s when sam walks over to you.

“getting nervous yet?”

“I was just about to ask you the same question”

“I have a bet, would you be willing to partake?”

you look at him a little surprised.

“what’s the bet?”

“If I win, you sleep with me. and I get to know your real name”

“are you serious?”

“dead, I mean we don’t have to make this bet if you really think you’ll lose”

“no, but i have to get something if i win”

“I guess it’s only fair. what do you want IF you win”

you pause to think, what does he have that you want.

“you know i looked you up before the race. the prize money for this race is only $500. and while i was looking i saw you’ve got a lot of money don’t you? how about if i win you give me $15k. that’ll help me pay off my new engine don’t you think?”

“you looked me up i’m flattered. now I really hope I win but not for the money loss id get if I lose but i want to hear you scream my name while I fuck you”

you’re left speechless by his confidence you can’t help but be a little turned on by it but you cannot let him win for your own dignity. the last race finished with the man winning again.

you both get into your cars and line them up at the starting like engines purring you both in sync look at each other then look at flag girl who stood in the middle of both cars she’s wearing short shorts and a little crop top with a little white flag she hold it in the air looks at you then looks at san and waves it down you both take off dashing leaving tire marks behind. he starts off in the lead but you are close behind little does he know this is the tactic you aren’t going your full speed until just before the sharp turn you speed up ahead of him and take the turn cutting him off forcing him to slow down now your in the lead and not just by a little he catches up to you but you still hold your lead. just a month ago you installed a booster into your engine. you didn’t want to just beat san you wanted to demolish him and he was too close for comfort so you hit your booster flying head of him now he’s a full cars length behind and you fly past the finish line and make a donut before hopping out and getting swarmed with the watchers.

san gets out of his car and just stares at you with his arms crossed. he’s wearing a compression shirt and you notice his muscles and defined jawline it wouldn’t have been THAT bad to lose. he walks over to you and extends his hand.

“congratulations. you really threw me for a loop with that turn. you’re good” then he leans in and whispers into your ear.

“y’know i’m better in bed then i am on the road”

this sends shivers down your spine.

“but you lost” you say while shrugging. “pay up” you say with a smile.

“well i don’t have the money right now give me your number. i’ll meet with you tonight with the money.”

———————————————————————

you took a hot shower once you were home. races always get you tensed up and you quickly dry your hair and put on jeans and a silk tank top and throw a cardigan over it to go meet san. he sent you the location of some steak house not too far from your apartment. once you get there you saw him waiting outside in a black button up and black dress pants his hair was neatly combed back. he looked hot, and he smirks once he noticed you.

“what’s the meaning of this why are we at a steak house?”

“I wanted to treat you to a nice dinner to congratulate you on your winnings”

you look at him with a raised eyebrow.

“no funny business” you say

“i can’t promise anything” he says leading you into the restaurant.

you decide to take advantage of the situation and order the most expensive meal and an expensive drink. and another. and another. he stops you at the forth drink.

“are you trying to get drunk? i mean i don’t have a problem with driving you home but i think you would have a problem with that.”

“im not drunk” you say slurring your words together. normally you can handle your alcohol but you didn’t actually know what was in the drink you were ordering you just wanted san to spend a bunch of money and ended up shitfaced.

“look i’m going to be honest with you angel I took you here to convince you to sleep with me, there’s a hotel above this place and I booked a room but i’m not going to take advantage of a drunk girl. i’m getting the bill and taking you home.”

once he payed he walked you outside to his car but drunk you refused to give him your address.

“listen angel-“ san starts to speak but you cut him off

“don’t call me that”

“but that’s all i know you by sweetie”

“y/n is my name don’t call me angel”

san can’t help but smile now that he knows your name.

“look y/n i’m going to take you up to the hotel room and ill get another room for myself if you don’t give me your address”

“okay” you say just looking down at the floor

“okay, fine up to the hotel room i guess you better not hate me for this i swear”

he takes you up to the room and places you onto the bed he helps you with your shoes then gets up to leave but you stop him and grab his wrist.

“can you sleep in here. it’s a big bed and, and i know that i’m drunk i just don’t like being alone while drunk i feel all funny and get nervous, could you just stay here please”

san sighs before nodding his head and turning off the lights he’s lays down beside you and you both fall asleep.

the next morning you wake up with the worst headache and you hear noise at the door. but it’s not your door it’s a hotel room door? and wait san is at the door??? he comes back to the bed with a plate of food in his hand room service??

“oh, good morning sleepyhead”

san looked surprising cute in the morning his smile was softer and his dimples showed.

“what the fuck” is all you can seem to say though.

san can’t help but giggle a little.

“we didn’t do anything don’t worry y/n, i don’t take advantage of drunk girls. i was going to leave but YOU wanted me to stay. basically pleaded i offered to take you home but you refused to give me your address” he leaned in a little and smiled

“but y am ou did give me your name”

“i’m sorry. this is so fucking embarrassing” you say then notice the platter of fruit he brought and take a slice of cantaloupe.

“i’ve never gotten drunk like this what was even in that drink i normally know my limit, guess i got carried away. but you stayed” your eyes fall to his chest. san wasn’t wearing a shirt, you couldn’t help but stare at his toned abs he caught you staring.

“like what you see?”

you snapped out of it a glared at him.

“oh come on don’t give me that look you did this to yourself baby”

your body had a reaction to that pet name he could turn you on so easily but you couldn’t let him win. san could also tell how easily he got to you that’s why he was so persistent he knew he could break you eventually.

you shook it off “i’m just going to eat then go home. thank you for taking care of me in my embarrassing state i can promise you it will never happen again”

san looked down at you. you were still sat on the bed looking up at him his large frame you knew of he were to kiss you right now you would kiss him back he would win. he felt it too because he grinned and bit his lower lip he picked up the plate of food and put it on the night stand all you could do was stare at him in silence this constant battle between you two on the winner you may have won the race but he won you.

he crawled on the bed laying you down and pinning you between his thick arms.

“I dont want to push you into this baby, i know I’ve been pushy but i would never force you to do anything you dont want to do”

you put your hands up to his neck and strokes his Jaw with your thumb.

“as much as this hurts my pride… you win”

san leans down slowly basically doing a push-up into your lips it was soft, softer than expected just a kiss just you desperately wanting more, you put your fingers in his hair giving it a tug to pull him closer.

he pulls away and smiles down at you.

“so eager for me baby, I wanna take my time and savor this moment”

he kisses you again this time he slides his tongue into your mouth. it’s not sloppy though it’s passionate it’s hard to think of anything other than him. you could kiss him like this forever. he pulls away again to catch his breath and starts leaving a trail of kisses on your jaw, down your neck, onto your collar bone he sits up his legs still on either side of you he pulls off your shirt revealing your laced black bra. you stare up at him while you unclasp the back of your bra and throw it to the side. you grab his neck and pull him back into a kiss, getting more and more eager you start to grind against his member and pulling at his hair while your tongues dance, he groans into the kiss from the sudden friction between you two. he starts kissing down till he gets to your jeans that you slept in he unbuttons them and pulls them off, your black laced underwear that matched your bra. he takes the underwear waistband with his teeth and pulls them off leaving them on the floor completing the matching set of your undergarments.

“baby you’re so beautiful. i’m a lucky loser”

he spreads your legs leaving kisses on your inner thigh.

“so wet, just for me”

you accidentally let out a small whine while he teases you.

“awe baby, getting so eager”

you roll your eyes and sit up and begin unbuttoning his pants.

“yes, you’re taking too long”

he finishes taking off his pants and boxers revealing his large member. you take his shoulders and and maneuver him onto his back. and straddle him just hovering over him.

“what’s this y/n? taking the lead are we?”

“yes”

you then align your hole with his tip and sit down, you begin to bounce up and down at this angle you are taking him fully. his hand his gripped around your waist while the other is on your ass. you begin to bounce a little faster he groans and cocks his head back.

“baby you’re taking me so well”

he places two fingers on the top of your clit making circling motions, you moan from the sensation and you pick up your pace bouncing a little faster.

“y/n, you look so tired let me take the”

the bouncing was straining your legs so he flips you over onto your back in once swift motion still in you and begins to pump into you fast and hard, he nestles his face into your neck breathing heavily kissing your neck in between breaths. you’re constant moaning keeps him going.

“sannie, i’m gonna cum”

the nick name only got him more exited.

“cum for me cum all over my dick”

after a few more pumps you cum all over him, your walls clenching around his dick he rides out your high. shortly after he quickly pulls out and cums on your stomach.

he leans down and kisses you on the forehead before getting up.

“you did so well, let me get you cleaned up”

he walks over to the bathroom and gets one of the hotel hand towels wetting it a little with warm water before walking back over to you and cleaning you up.

putting on his boxers while you both change back into your clothes. “would you consider going out with me”

you giggle and look at him while putting on your shirt, you don’t quite answer yet to keep him on his toes. once you both were fully dressed you walk over to him and drape your arms around his neck and give him a small kiss.

you huff and finally give in

“i’ll go out with you”

thank you guys for reading sorry if it’s shit 😜

#san ateez #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #san smut #smut #san fanfic

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meowsru · 1 day ago

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I JUST WANNA STOP RIGHT NEXT TO YOU

satoru visits his best friend.

contents; gojo x geto takes place after suguru’s death (ˊᴖˋ), canon divergence idk. angst, a lot of angst. 1.3k

note; my first writing on tumblr! i really really wanted to dedicate a short piece to my all-time fav characters, so here it is. i hope y'all enjoy this <3

cold winter wind ruffles his ivory hair as satoru steps out of his apartment. he searches for his key in the coat's pockets and firmly locks the door, shoving the key into his pants. it's snowing today. little frosty specks drift slowly, painting everything in pristine white.

the sky is drowned out by masses of grey, preventing any rays from touching the earth. the greyscale makes his eyes hurt. the usual bright colour is gone, a depressing reminder of what winter is actually about.

the breeze blows again as a harsh reminder, and he tightens his scarf around his neck. it surely feels like below zero today, he thinks. it definitely looks like it, too. no one can see anything past a few meters. the freezing fog hangs heavy in the air, rendering vision almost useless. the streetlights are unusually on, casting golden hues around him as he walks to the parking lot.

good thing there's not much accumulation yet, or he would have to go back and switch his converses with the leather boots. the stairs to his destination are hard to map under the thick blanket of the powdery snow. a large untouched heap — a clear canvas with no footsteps to guide him downwards, but satoru manages, trudging through the mount even though his shoes and pants do get a little wet on the edges.

the lot is empty, devoid of any vehicle or a person; every single being admiring the december snow from their warm houses, enjoying hot chocolates and dancing to christmas folk songs, not daring to come out today and face the unforgiving chill. everyone but not satoru. he starts the engine, his car's roars fill the empty space, and soon he is drifting off, tires screeching against the sleet on the road.

satoru doesn't turn on the radio today. in no mood of listening to exaggerated christmas advertisements and cringey festive hymns. he is content with just watching the dim lights of the skyscrapers and the neon traffic lights, a temporary repose before the reality comes knocking at his door.

the artificial world is the only thing accompanying satoru, as he drives on the near vacant highway, farther away from the sleeping city of tokyo. the ride to his destination isn't long. he parks the car in front of the gates and steps out in the bitterness once again.

a long inhale allowing for the crispness flow all the way to his alveoli, trying to wake up his mushy mind. clutching the bouquet of flowers tightly against his chest, he walks inside the cementary with his heart dropping with each step.

like everything else, the place is too shrouded in white. almost every tomb is lost in the conglomerates of silver and crystal, difficult to discern what lies where. but it's no problem for him.

his feet drag on the wet crunchy grass with ease, his memory the sole guidance. he passes through multiple memorials and almost feels the deceased ones cling to his skin, begging for his mourning.

a lone tomb stands in the back of the cementary, and his heartbeat picks up, nerves becoming frazzled as he comes closer. though the name is hidden beneath snow, he knows whose it is.

for a moment, satoru just stands there, a distant look on his face, as his eyes trace the edges and grooves of the hard limestone like remembering something or rather someone.

a shadow from the memories he's desperately trying to bury deep in the crevices of his brain.

a gloved hand wipes away the fresh snow, and the engraved name becomes clear, geto suguru. his fingers trail over each letter, every curl and line carrying a bittersweet feeling, though he urges himself not to dwell on them any longer.

satoru laments not bringing his carry on shovel so he could remove the rest, but his hands will do for now. he places the blue roses on the cleaned stone, admiring the radiant blue amidst the bleakness.

“h-hey, suguru.”

a croaky voice breathes into the chilly air followed by a huff, as satoru sits on the ground right beside his best friend, resting a bare gentle hand on the rough surface. he wants to feel everything and does not want anything to obstruct the reunion.

“how have you been?”

satoru rambles about his own day instead. dropping mentions of his new favourite sweets shop just down a street by the subway station mixed in with the complaints of how his students are running him thin, them and their ever youthfulness.

(he tries not to hiss at the memory that conjurs up in his mind. a vivid imagery painted blue, bringing with it the thawing earth and blooming flowers.)

“and there's that...”

it's pitch silent. not even the snowfall dares to speak in this moment of melancholy. as much as satoru loves snow, he feels nothing but hatred for the phenomenon. no one's here to drag him out of his bed early in the morning, greeting him with hitting a pillow on his head. satoru doesn't feel the joy in jumping up and down in excitement anymore, all alone.

suguru's not here to push him in a pile, to throw relentless blows on his back. no one's here to join him with their loud laughs and wheezes. there are no snow angels formed on the ground anymore, and he doesn't want to because what's the point if his angel is left all alone.

he is well aware that no one is actually here to converse with him, well aware of the fact that he's in a cemetary visiting his long past friend. but when has satoru ever let anything stop him except suguru only?

no matter how many jokes he crackes, no matter the number of gossips mix in with the surroundings, the reality still weighs heavy until he can't no longer bear to feign ignorance — to the ache, pain, the suffering and the grief dwelling deep in his soul.

his one and only left him exactly a year ago. satoru thinks that it was fine, perfect even when suguru was just a wanted curse user because at least he was alive, even if he was advancing further away from him, even if he they were not longer together.

but now?

what is he supposed to do? suguru’s really gone. the thought contracts around his palpitating heart, and all he can imagine is the rotting body protected in the exact shell of a stone he's leaning against.

little tremors begin to rack his body, and no matter how much he tries, he can't stop the tears cascading his cheeks — a cool and stinging sensation on his face.

he grins, low and quietly, “what am i supposed to do, sugu?”

no one answers.

the familiar cozy and warm skin isn't there, when he rests his forhead on the dewy stone, and he cries, a wretched plea to no one, for a glimpse, a taste of the sweet remembrance.

to feel him, hear him once again.

and just like that, all the progress is gone as he drowns in his grief. he thought he was letting go, learning to leave it all behind, to move on. so why does starting over feel so impossible?

his body can't no longer remember how he felt pressed up against him. he has long forgotten his scent. he is afraid of losing every piece of what made up suguru. his suguru.

and that what hurts satoru the most.

because what do you mean that one day he will forget the sound of his laughter? the way he said his name? or even worse, his voice alone.

and it haunts him to think that he will only remain as a distant memory.

that he will forget him all together—

satoru doesn't dare to even continue the thought. a guttural sound of resignation, and he huffs, looking at the engraving once again. he leans over and presses a small kiss, whispering his name one last time.

the freezing cold feels nothing against his frost bitten lips, and for a moment, he feels something buzz on his chapped skin— a familiarity that he knows by heart. he smiles and rests against the stone once again, counting the never-ending flakes showering on him.

and soon, satoru drifts off on the hard stone immersed in the delusions of a blue spring in a worn-out classroom joined by ghosts of happy laughter.

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itsmeatballworld · 1 day ago

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hold me close

pairing | husband!rick grimes x pregnant!wife!reader

summary | Reader is pregnant and her husband Rick Grimes is always caring and loving towards her, no matter what time of day.

wc | 1.2k

warnings | mentions of pregnancy/pregnant!reader, discomfort related to pregnancy

a/n | no plot, just soft and sweet Rick because he's a loving husband <3

Moonlight trickled through the large paned window and you were wide awake.

This was most nights; sleep would come fast but end just as quick. You exhaled, readjusting the pillow beneath your head with the hopes that would make you snug – and eventually you’d become tired.

But… nothing.

Everything was uncomfortable. The bed, the pillow. You twisted and turned, contorting your limbs around the sickly hot blankets but no angle or elevation was helping you sleep.

Opening your eyes wide, you grumbled.

“Let. Me. Sleep.” You tapped on the lowest part of your protruding belly with the hopes your unborn gremlin gets the hint. Let mommy sleep or nobody’s gonna like me tomorrow.

And so you scrunch your eyes closed with the hopes the warning was enough…but hell…not even a silly demand could make you fall asleep.

I guess I’ll start counting sheep or whatever sane people do.

First, you outlined your fuzzy slippers under the armchair and Rick’s comfy sweatpants folded neatly on the cushion. Judith’s toys were there too. Some were thrown on the floor from playing the day before. She has a habit of hiding her favorite toy in different parts of the bedroom every night when Rick brushes his teeth. It turns into a game the next morning of ‘daddy find my toy’. Rick usually shuffles around the bedroom and acts surprised when he finds it in the same spot every time: in your right slipper. Never the left, always the right one.

The soft snores from your husband beckon you to turn towards him. He was so peaceful, enjoying his dream about ‘who-knows-what’. And you wanted to be doing that too but you couldn’t and it was irritating. Every twist felt wrong and unnatural. Surely you were going stir crazy.

You groaned. With a last-ditch effort, you push your body to the left with the hopes you can relax on your side. But nothing.

Each second you lie in bed, every moment you're awake, it gives you more reasons to get up and go outside for air. If sleep was not happening, then fuck it – the day starts now.

The bed shifted before you moved. Shit, you curse.

Rick rolled over, turning his sleepy blue eyes on your contorted frame. The bedsheets slipped down to his navel and exposed his bare chest. “Hey.”

“Sorry.” You shift towards him slowly, “can’t sleep.”

“Me neither.”

“Liar,” you hummed. “You’ve been snoring for over an hour.”

He smiled lightly. “Must be hearin’ things.”

“Oh really?”

“Mhm.” There was a pause as he stretched his arms and dipped his head back into the pillows. You admired his jaw and stubble in the hazy light as Rick scratched his chin. He was sexy, even when he wasn't trying to be which made your life so much harder than it should've been. Damn. You wished you had more energy to climb on top of him.

…That might also be one of the reasons why you were pregnant.

“Feelin’ okay?” Rick gazed back at you with admiration.

You nod.

He yawned, slowly inching closer until his arm draped across your waist. His large hand trails across your side, down to the swell of your belly. He keeps his palm steady. “Are you lettin’ momma sleep?”

You laughed, placing your hand on top of his. “Not since last month.”

“Now, you gotta let ‘er sleep,” Rick’s sleepy southern drawl was scratchy as he hushed his words. It was like he was whispering just to the baby, lost in his own little conversation. It was cute to watch his demeanor change from ‘husband to dad’ mode in a split second, even in the middle of the night. You loved how he doted over every single one of his children – even the ones he hasn't met yet.

His fingers rubbed a bit more before that arm slid back around your waist. He pulled you a bit closer before whispering, “what can I do?” This time his eyes were on you.

“Nothing, I'm just tired.”

“Want me to rub your back?”

A smile crept across your face before yawning. “That might be nice…”

His hands drift over to your side, pushing up against your lower back when you slide closer to the edge of the bed. You moaned, relaxing against his callous hands. “Keep them there, sheriff.”

He stifled a laugh as his body met alongside yours. His hands took turns kneading and swirling your muscles in different directions. It was so calming and gentle. Every touch felt like butter melting into your skin. You might not be tired but you sure were relaxed.

“Mmm.”

“Like that?” Rick’s playful voice made you grin.

“Yes.”

“Good, I’ll keep goin’.”

“No. No, I should move.” You stretch your legs, “I’ll get up. You need to sleep.”

There was a pause as you tried to swing your legs over and prop yourself up. The momentum wasn't enough. Your weight was so disproportionate from the pregnancy that it was almost impossible to fully roll over and lift yourself up. It only took one second of struggling and that was enough for Rick to meet you halfway.

“Need help?” he asks quietly. “I’ll help you up.”

“Oh, now that’s hot,” you snickered as you pushed yourself up from the sunken mattress. As soon as gravity took hold, you felt the pressure in your bladder as the baby weighed heavy on what felt like every organ you had. Rick went to follow behind you, but he stopped when your lips pecked his forehead. “Stay. Sleep. I’ll be back soon.”

“Nah, I’ll come sit with you—”

“I’ll be right back. Okay?”

Rick wasn’t one to just give in and agree to anybody. His wife was the only exception. You cherished that he loved you so much, so much that he’d stop being stubborn and lie back into the pillows with a quick ‘alright’.

And you did plan to be back soon.

But plans get messed up sometimes. When you woke up in Judith’s room, cradling her against your body in the padded rocking chair, you saw Rick already bright eyed and dressed for the day. He slipped on one black sock as a wide grin plastered across his handsome face.

“Mornin’ beautiful.”

“Morning,” you hummed and rubbed on Judith’s back.

You remember a bit of last night. After leaving the bedroom, you made a warm drink, cleaned the kitchen, folded the laundry, and finally checked on everyone once the sky brightened. Carl was fast asleep, his sheriff hat neatly placed on the top of his dresser next to the clothes he’d wear for the day.

But when you got to Judith’s room, she was up. Dark eyes watered as she clung to the side of her crib, like she was already awake after a bad dream. So you came in, changed her into clean yellow and pink floral pajamas, and made her a bottle. You passed out some time after Judith fell back asleep in your arms.

Rick scooped his daughter up his arms. “You should get some rest before you pass out on the couch. I’ve got ‘er and Carl so go lie down.”

“No way.” You slipped off the rocking chair with one hand on your bump. “I’ve had this craving for crunchy granola and milk all night.”

“Granola?” You can hear the twang of sarcasm on his tongue which sounded funnier because of his cute accent.

You nod. “Carol snuck me an extra batch before portioning it out at the pantry.”

He was grinning, watching you waddle down the hallway and stairs as you rambled on an on about this craving. “—crunchy granola, not soggy. The baby is very specific, Rick—”

><<>><

#rick grimes #rick grimes fanfic #rick grimes fanfiction #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x y/n #y/n x rick grimes #reader x rick grimes #you x rick grimes #fluff #tw pregnancy #rick grimes walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction

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phpruitts · 19 hours ago

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The fire in Phoebe's chest kept burning— each one of his words was another piece of fuel, every kiss, every squeeze of his hand fanned each ember into a blazing flame.

Was she going to burn up?

It felt that way, but right now, Phoebe didn't even care. Raf seemed to be burning alongside her— breathing just as hard, chest heaving in tandem with hers. They felt ... perfectly in sync. It was sort of intoxicating, honestly, feeling her body so perfectly aligned with every thrust and movement.

'I’m gonna see you every day,'

The rhythm of her heart stutters even more.

'Even if it’s just a few minutes. Even if I don’t have the time.'

His mouth returns to her collarbone, and for a minute Phoebe's eyes flutter shut, imagining the privilege that would be, the luxury of seeing Rafael every fucking day. Every day. Whether it be a Monday, or a Saturday, a precious day off— did Rafael ever get days off? This was a man who influenced and owned the entire city, the man whose businesses effected entire economies, both above and under the table. Phoebe was a stripper. An ex-junkie and a nobody who came to Las Vegas with two suitcases and a ratty green backpack and little else. What right did she have to Rafael's time? What right did she have to occupy his sphere?

All Phoebe can do, in a moment like this, is squeeze his hand back, tight, and infuse all the gratitude she can into the movement— when she said she was going to figure this out with Rafael, she meant it. He could have all the time he wanted to find out.

"Come see me every day," she affirms, mouth agape in pleasure. "Call me at four in the morning and I'll get up for you. Tell me to meet you wherever and I'll go across the entire fucking state."

Even if Phoebe had to take the bus. Even if Phoebe had to walk across boiling concrete, dip out of her shift on her break and swing into Rafael's corvette for a fraction of an hour together. Hell— even if Phoebe didn't have a break, she'd go. What was a dance or two, a couple hundred dollars compared to seeing him.

Their hips continue to meet. Continue to press and drive and rut.

'I’m close,' Raf, says, and Phoebe's eyes flutter open, fighting against her daze of pleasure to focus on his face. God. The way he fucking looked at her. Gazed at her breasts, her abdomen that kept tensing as she rode him. There was so much ... admiration there, maybe even adoration, and Phoebe knows it's a look that is going to be seared into her memory for the end of time. Even if he stopped wanting to see her. Even if the whirlwind of his life got in the way— Phoebe would always remember this moment, this memory, cradled close inside her chest in the most precious moment of intimacy she's experienced in her entire life.

'Need you to finish with me. Please.'

'Please, baby.'

Phoebe just has to take care of him. She has to. How can Phoebe look into those eyes, blue as the Aegean, blue as a storm, and not give him this request?

And so one of her hand disentangles from his hair— slips down to cup his cheek, soft, soothing, pressed against the lovely lines of his bone. Her thumb brushes idly against his skin on it's own accord.

Rafael had said please. Phoebe nods, as a gasping, shuddering pant escapes her. "Then come with me. We're gonna come together."

Her hips roll, muscles almost aching from the exertion of the movement, pressing her clit down against the friction, trying to take every single inch of his and beyond. But— more. Phoebe needs more. And so she leans in. Kisses his cheek, tenderly, before leaning back to admire his face. Rafael had said please, but Phoebe, and the fire crackling inside her, are just as needing.

"I have you..."

Phoebe was so fucking good. And kind. Offering to help him figure it all out, despite not knowing what exactly he was talking about. Or maybe she did. Maybe she knew exactly, and that’s why it meant so much that she would offer.

Rafael squeezed her hand back.

Maybe it was that, and the promise to see each other every day, that had Rafael’s breath growing ragged. His stomach felt all tight, and he knew that he’d be close soon. Just from looking at Phoebe, and all the emotions that were stirring inside of him.

He wanted to finish with her, wanted to hold her in the afterglow of their pleasure.

“I’m gonna see you every day,” Rafael managed, in between heavy breaths. It felt like an important promise to make. “Even if it’s just a few minutes. Even if I don’t have the time. I’m gonna see you,” he promised. He leaned forward, pressed his mouth against her collarbone. He squeezed her hand tight, wondering if she knew how much he meant that.

Even if he couldn’t stay for very long, Rafael wanted to see her. He wanted to kiss her in the mornings, or before he went to bed. In the middle of busy day, stacked with meetings. He just wanted to see her, no matter the circumstance.

And it was that thought that nearly pushed Rafael over the edge. The excitement in seeing her every day, in getting to kiss her, in spending the night in this tiny little apartment.

He stifled a groan. He tilted his head back, mouth slightly agape. He looked into Phoebe’s eyes.

“I’m close,” he whispered. His eyes fell onto her body — perfect, slender body. Perfect breasts, right in his face. Her beautiful neck, the hickies that he’d left there earlier.

“Need you to finish with me. Please.”

Rafael never said please. He never asked for anything, never begged for anything, but he was now. Whenever it came to Phoebe, he felt so fucking desperate and hungry for her. He’d crawl on his knees and ask, if he had to.

His eyes locked on Phoebe’s again.

“Please, baby.”

#OGODSHFLDSKJFLKJSDF GOD they LOVE EACH OTHERRR ;-;.

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vcutparis · 5 months ago

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i so badly want to read all the fics ive kept aside but my need to dissect and leave long appreciative comments makes me sigh. like....when fics are too lovely, crafted with precision and details are perfectly woven i feel like giving back all the love. if i cant i feel incomplete and a gaping hole in my heart.

#im goner for good stuff and the need to appreciate them #I LOVE I LOVEEEE when writers look at the long reblogs and are like this is why i continue writing. LIKE YES GO AHEAD CREATE #I WILL BE THERE TO ADMIRE IT EVERY!!! SINGLE!!! TIME!!!#fanfic writers i love you for reading all the subliminal msges i put out in the universe and think #OH WE THINK THE SAME LET ME ADD MORE DETAILS TO IT!#ateez fanfic #ao3 fanfic #fanfic authors #fanfic writers #fanfics #fic writing #kpop fanfic #ateez x reader #svt fanfic

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jesuis-assez · 5 months ago

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↠ Tim & Lucy scenes ↳ 5x10 - The List

#chenford #chenfordedit #the rookie #tim x lucy #tim and lucy #therookieedit #lucy x tim #jesuis assez edits: Chenford #jesuis assez edits: Chenford scenes #Tim was so nervous #When they reached their second date.. They were in their element. It was more them as opposed to the fancy setting.#He could breathe with ease. Just be there in the moment with her. They could just be them. Just Tim and Lucy.#He could melt into her the way he always does.#Whether that be in the form of a kiss / hug or a touch of any means.#or even gaze at her intently the way he did here in this scene [ok the whole episode. ] [ok just about every time he looks at her]#Even touching her with his fingertips brushing over her skin \ hearing her voice \ a single look that #communicates what words cannot say is enough to quieten the anxiety.#or the emotional storm raging within Tim. Even for a fleeting moment as they have done so before.#Tim has this way of giving Lucy his full and undivided attention. Listening to her attentively. He takes in every word she says to him #Hanging onto every word and holding a space for those words in the doorways of his mind. and allowing her influence to wash over him.#Because he values her opinion just as much as she values his. So when she expressed a [need] for him to reset his expectations #he switched on instantly to meet that need. He too wants for them to take their time and explore this slowly.#They're on mutual ground with this and maybe it's something Tim didn't realise he wanted until Lucy voiced it.#The way he begins to process what she is wanting from the relationship right now and needing from him #and how it sinks in that he wants that too #I think Tim could've been content to sit in silence with her all night despite the nerves bubbling up inside of him.#Just completely content with beaming at her all night. Content to admire her through tender eyes.

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doux-amer · 25 days ago

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One thing that has deeply annoyed me about the response from Americans/Westerners about this week's events in Korea is that a lot of them, including people I like and respect, are like, "The protesting civilians and lawmakers who barged into the National Assembly would've been shot if this were the U.S./this would've never happened in the U.S. because people are too afraid of being shot." There's some truth to that, at least with regard to state violence, but I'm fed up because it doesn't account for how frightening this could have turned out to be had it not been for how much of an inept flop dunce Yoon Sukyeol is. It minimizes the courage of those who showed up.

Sure, it was likely that the military and riot police wouldn't have done much (again, YSY's self-coup wasn't thought out well, and there's more evidence of that as military officials and soldiers are speaking up about the lack of information they received, but I'll refrain from talking about that to avoid making this even longer than it inevitably will be, knowing myself), but let's not pretend there haven't been issues with them in recent years. They pepper sprayed and used water cannons during an anniversary rally for the Sewol ferry victims (x) (x) (if you don't understand how unbelievably cruel that is, look into the horrific Sewol ferry sinking). They tear gassed crowds (Korea has a gruesome history of this) and sprayed water cannons, and citizens have been injured and killed during the 2015 protests and 2016-17 Park Geunhye impeachment protests, notably Baek Namgi, an elderly activist whose death caused global outrage (x) (x). Park Geunhye was going to enforce martial law during those protests according to a leaked document, with hundreds of tanks, thousands of soldiers and special force troops! (x)

Not to mention, there are decades of extreme state violence that have scarred an entire country and are still super fresh for a huge percentage of the population. Again, check out that tear gas history piece. Look up the April Revolution, Gwangju massacre, and June uprising and see just how bloody they were. Thousands of civilians were tortured and killed. Look at how many protests were going on year after year during the 1980s. That isn't that long ago! All those older people who ran to the National Assembly to stop the coup? You bet a lot of them were college students who protested during that time or knew people who did. All the younger people? They may not have experienced what it was like living under martial law, but as I said, state violence still occurs, however much it's dwindled over the years, and you have to account for generational trauma. I don't think I'll ever forget the way I felt when I saw the breaking news alert about the martial law declaration on December 3. I've never experienced that, at least to that degree.

Instead of viewing the response from civilians and elected officials through the framework of police brutality in the U.S., it should be contextualized using Korea's own history. Thankfully most of the serious discussions are doing this, but like I said, even people who are smart about reading up on things have reflected on how this wouldn't fly in the U.S., not because of the difference in protest history, civil movements, and public engagement with both in the two countries but because of the military/police response. There's an insinuation there that Koreans would be more reluctant to do what they did if they knew what it's like to live in fear of violence instead of living in such a safe country like Korea...and I want to yell.

It was monumentally brave of everyone to do what they did to stop the coup. We're all laughing at how stupid the coup was and there's a reason why people were more furious than scared because of the political history of Korea and the laws set in place to protect the democracy and neutralize coup attempts, but this could have easily become a disaster. It's not alarmist of me to say so because there was no way for anyone to be 100% sure of how the military would react—especially when no one knew what the hell was going on.

#i am...not vibing with these posts about how people are like 'omg those poor soldiers/good on them for dragging their feet'#yes mandatory military service means being there against your will #and i DO believe a lot of soldiers probably were super shaken or confused by what was going on #especially with the news coming out that soldiers weren't aware of what their mission was #to find out your orders and see your people look at you with rage disgust and maybe even fear especially as a young person...#i get that it's upsetting and you can tell that a lot of them didn't want to be there!#but lol are we forgetting there are people who weren't conscripts involved?#are we forgetting that people will follow directions if it's drilled into them to do say especially with the threat of retaliation?#are we forgetting that mandatory military service goes back decades #and amazingly soldiers and police still committed atrocities against civilians during previous protests or what?#idk i think it's your moral duty to engage in weaponized incompetence malicious compliance insubordination etc.#when you're asked to do something evil so i don't really want to praise people for being decent #even if i'm glad they did and i'm relieved they did it you know? but that's just me #omg sorry i'm ranting. ANYWAY! history in every single country has shown #how easy it can be for things to go south rapidly so while there were things that made the coup expire as quickly as it did #and it's HILARIOUS and i'm enjoying myself...it could have turned out very different #just a few wrong turns—just ONE wrong turn—and it could have been bad #rules and orders are good and all but if someone wants to commit violence they will do it #i'm just relieved i didn't have time to worry myself sick over this before it was all over lmao #so i can just feel a lot of pride and admiration for everyone doing their best to exercise and protect their rights #and do it with great panache and fun. the protests are like concerts! the protest songs are so funny #the signs!!!!! i'm dying over them. the number of people paying for food and drinks for the protestors #enough that businesses in the protest areas had to stop taking prepaid orders!#the older people who said they have to get to the front that night to protect all the young protestors with their bodies #in case the military tries to attack civilians! 😭 that part made me almost cry #the ajusshi who (drunkenly?) shouted how much he loved all his friends who came out to protest like the old days #democracy is fragile and we have to protect it #and i think korea right now is a shining beacon of the power of the people

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