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novalpha · 2 years ago

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𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘺𝘶 𝐹𝑖𝑐 𝑅𝑒𝑐𝑠

♡ Fluff || ୨୧ Angst || ★ Smut || ꗃ SMAU || ⌗ Series || ✿ Drabble || ♤ Suggestive (No smut) || ✹ Humor

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ The other woman ♡୨୧♤⌗ -> @idyllic-ghost Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3

synopsis: you're married to wonwoo, but his parents desperately wants him to have a child - which you cannot have. he gives into his parents wishes and meets the other woman, whom he eventually agrees to marry as well. you're left heartbroken for a few years, seeing the man you love build a family that you had always wanted, but happiness is on the horizon as you meet someone new.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Love and warmth ♡୨୧♤✹ -> @viastro

synopsis: in which you blackmail your employee, mingyu, to marry you in order not to get deported back to canada due to your expired visa. [based on the proposal]

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Sugar and you ♡ -> @97-liners

synopsis: in which mingyu is an idealistic pastry chef, and you’re a cynical wedding planner who doesn’t believe in love.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Dry Humping ★ -> @undermoonlightst Part 1 , Part 2

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Parties, Yachts and Wishful thinking ★ -> @ithinkilikeit-reactions

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Hot or cold ♡ -> @jjuniehao

synopsis: when looking for something on his phone, you find an email you didn’t expect…

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Honey boy ♡୨୧★ -> @chocosvt

synopsis: when you graduate high school, you realize you’re not really going to miss anyone, apart from a cute boy who doesn’t even remember your name. five years later, after accepting an offer to pass the summer at a friend’s lake house, he’s standing right in front of you. the universe doesn’t give second chances very often. you’re not going to let the honey boy slip away twice.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Puppy love ♡୨୧★ -> @smileysuh

synopsis: Mingyu is stuck in the puppy love phase, he can’t get enough of you, and can’t seem to grow out of it either- luckily, as your Black Lab Hybrid, he never needs to.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Lilac lace ♡୨୧★ -> @starlightxsvt

synopsis: without much options left on your hands, you become Mingyu's roommate. things take a wild turn after a few weeks.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ His smile ♡୨୧★ -> @angelwonie

Summary: falling in love with your fake boyfriend isn't a good idea, and it's even worse if that fake boyfriend happens to be Kim Mingyu. but you just can't help it — he's got the prettiest smile you've ever seen.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Hallmark moment ♡୨୧★-> @onlymingyus Part 2

synopsis: The kids have been watching too many Christmas movies, and are now determined to have their very own magical moment with their parents.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Local lover boy ♡୨୧♤ -> @cheolism

summary: after you've had a long week of work, mingyu decides to help you wind down for the night.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Oh no, he's hot ★ -> @ncteez

Synopsis: The first time you drove your very trashed best friend home was because you had a crush on him. All the times you drove him home after that were because…well, his dad is sexy.

or the one where you have tension with your crush’s dad at four in the morning and maybe secretly fuck while said crush is asleep on the couch.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Spoiled ★ -> @wonusite Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4

summary: you have never been spoiled, but that changes after you meet the man your mother is going to marry.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Confidently lost ★ -> @gfcheol

summary: it's not easy to work your way through college, luckily for you, your babysitting job pays exceptionally well. and your boss is absolutely gorgeous.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Stay at home ♡୨୧★ -> @celestiababie

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ I can't run away ♡୨୧★ -> @gyukult

summary: everyone expresses love in different ways. that doesn’t exclude you.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ We don't usually hold hands ♡୨୧★ -> @gyukult

summary: when a friend brings up the potential feelings of a fuck buddy, you’re left wondering what to do when you confirm it’s true.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Stop kissing me please ♡★ -> @jejuboo-s

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Break the curse, break my heart ♡୨୧ -> @savventeen

summary: what's supposed to be a simple hex job turns into something much deadlier, and suddenly the two of you are fighting just to stay alive

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ One last time (for old time's sake) ୨୧♡ -> @tonicandjins Part 2

summary: you receive an invitation for the worst day of your life.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ A sheep in Wolf's clothing ♡★ -> @rubyreduji

summary: kim mingyu is the biggest player on campus, so why is he coming to you for sex help

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Drift away ♡୨୧★ -> @playmetheclassics

Summary: You made the biggest mistake of your life, and now, Mingyu is trying his hardest to forget and forgive you, but how long till your infidelity rips you both apart? Besides, it’s not like you’d blame him. You hurt him. You did the one thing you promised never to do.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ To the brim ♡★ -> @toruro

description. all your sweet husband wants is to put a baby into you—is that so bad?

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ The secrets kept from roommates ♡★✹ -> @cheolism

summary: you are hiding a secret from mingyu. little do you know that he's hiding one from you too.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Trust (fall) ♡★ -> @toruro

description. your boyfriend insists he's strong enough to carry you and fuck you at the same time, but you have your doubts. of course, mingyu is more than ready to try and prove you wrong.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ — jealousy, jealousy ♡★ -> @monamipencil

synopsis; a trip to the convenience store with your boyfriend takes an unexpected turn.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ pretty like this ♡★ -> @madeforgyu

summary. you think mingyu's hands are pretty. he thinks you look pretty coming undone. (cw. very heavy ddlg themes)

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ The Perils of Apartment Living ✹♡★ -> @dontflailmenow

Synopsis: While lying in bed, the two of them can't help but overhear their upstairs neighbors going at it rather loudly. Mingyu turns to You after a while, and asks, “You wanna fuck louder than them to establish dominance?”

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ First date ♡★ -> @cheolhub

summary. mingyu doesn’t usually fuck on the first date. emphasis on usually.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Endless Adoration ♡★ -> @wonusite

❝ Mingyu has been irrevocably in love with you since he was in high school. He decides to keep this a secret until he can move on since you’ve only ever seen him as your best friend’s brother. However, his plan goes awry when you ask him to take your virginity and teach you about sex—as a friend, of course. ❞

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Kim mingyu’s (unhelpful) guide to losing your virginity ✹♡★ -> @shuaflix

SUMMARY ▸ after accidentally telling your friends that kim mingyu took your virginity (he didn't), you’re shocked when he proposes to relieve you of the fabled v-card for good (he does).

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ It’s all fun and games ✹♡★ -> @dontflailmenow

summary: reader thinks it’s fun to troll her buddy, mingyu, for being all big and strong. and it is! except at some point it turns out maybe she’s not just teasing and they’re both into it (and each other)

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Exile ♡୨୧★ -> @wongyuseokie

Summary: You two were high school sweethearts, and your love story was something only found in the scripts of a shitty teenage rom-com, but he was a jock, and you were shy and quiet. It shouldn’t have worked, but somehow it did. Now, fast forward ten years, and things aren’t the same. Your lives aren’t the same; he’s stuck in the past, and you only focus on the future. Neither of you has your priorities straight, and neither realises that your present is a complete and utter mess. You won’t let him go because he’s all you’ve ever known, and he won’t let you go because you’re the only thing right in his life, but will love and high school promises keep you two together?

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Creep ★୨୧ -> @smileysuh

preview. “If the roles were reversed - if you were a ghost bound to this apartment forever - you’re saying you wouldn’t watch me get naked every day?” He’s definitely got a point. As your eyes skim Mingyu's perfect form again, that tingle returns between your legs. There’s no reason for him to be as sexy as he is- murders aren’t the only shocking thing this man has under his belt and you can see that now.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ In soft hands , Part 2 ♡୨୧★ -> @beahae

Summary: You've sworn off dating. But your favourite kid at your work has the hottest dad in the entire world. A bit of harmless flirting never hurt anyone, right?

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Only for Love ♡୨୧★ -> @joonsytip Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Epilogue

Synopsis: When an accidental discovery has your perception of happy married life crumbling down, you do what you think is the best for everyone involved. Naturally, your opinion of the best doesn't cater to your husband's. So what happens when things spiral out due to unforeseen events?

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Life's A Beach ♡★ -> @whipped-for-kpop-fics

Summary: You don’t like the beach, but you do like the handsome lifeguard who works there. As it turns out, he likes you too and is more than willing to risk his job to have you.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ The Moves ✿♤♡✹ -> @thedensworld

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ How to Win Hearts for Dummies (the answer is lattes and banana bread) ♡୨୧ -> @gyuswhore (Idol!mingyu x makeup-artist!reader)

[ More Mingyu fic recs will be updated. So do check this post once in a while ;) ]

Want more Seventeen fic recs? -> Click here

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stepwiseimmigrations3 · 2 years ago

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People from all over the world enter Canada because of multiculturalism. Canada has a stature for being one of the friendliest countries in the world. Curious to learn more about Canadian universities? Get in touch with the experts at Stepwise Immigrations today. We're going to talk about what are the advantages of studying in Canada.

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edumirchi · 2 years ago

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ppushable · 4 months ago

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two ibuprofen

jean kirschtein x gn!reader / oneshot / wc: 7.3k

part 1 of rose tinted hours

⋅ ⋆ ─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────── ⋅ ⋆

Sunday morning. What's the best way to spend a Sunday morning?

Craned over the plaguefest of the guy I'm dating-not-dating, trying to shove two ibuprofen down his throat?

(It works the second time.)

⋅ ⋆ ─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────── ⋅ ⋆

ao3 tags:

ok here we go / Alternate Universe - College/University / Sickfic / Sick Character / Fluff / Kissing / Alternate Universe - Modern Setting / Texting / Vomiting / Not at the same time / Winter / gender neutral reader / i dont know how to make tea / mentions of sanrio / mentions of bagged milk / slight angst? i guess? if you squint? / reiner texts like a boomer and im sorry / POV First Person / Present Tense

i live in a special part of canada so excuse the bagged milk. (just kidding bagged is better)

reader is gn! if anything seems off please lmk. (do that if the text names are confusing too!)

⋅ ⋆ ─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────── ⋅ ⋆

Bzzz.

The darkness and warm comfort of sleep cracks as my eyes peel open to the vibration of my phone. My blurry wall is bathed in orange light and the cold draft coming in from the open window carries the swoons and trills of birdsong. Pretty…

Holy shit I have class I’ll be late—

With effort, I blink until the shapes around me become clean and defined. Am I late? Sunlight on the ruffles of my quilt like a Renaissance painting. Coats and bags hanging from the hooks on the back of my bedroom door. Clothes from the night before, still on the ground from when I dropped them there, dead-tired. My phone buzzes again, causing an internal jolt that spurs me to snatch it off the nightstand and expel the charger in one swift movement.

mr. handsome: emergency alert! 🚨 alert! god-level threat!

mr. handsome: One image attachment

Oh, it’s a message from Connie.

Oh, it’s 8:19 AM.

Oh, it’s a Sunday.

The glowing numbers on the screen indicate the next minute and I toss the phone somewhere on the bed before re-curling myself into my nice warm quilt in this nice cool morning. Sorry, Connie, the grocery run to 7-11 for more sushi will have to be done by someone else. This is probably the happiest I’ll be all day, provided I stay sleepy enough not to feel guilty for doing nothing. The world goes black.

Bzzz.

This time, my eyes peel open on their own.

Fine, Connie, you win.

Trying to ignore the bitter taste of morning in my mouth, I grope for my phone and lift it above my head.

sashacado: BAHAHAH GOOD LUCK WITH THAT ONE BALDY

Another message pops up.

mr. handsome (replying to @/sashacado): 🖕

mikachu: you need to get out of there, connie. like rn.

lainah: Run while you still can! LOL! 🤣

Although the last text pains me on a metaphysical scale, I open up the groupchat. It’s getting fishy now: first of all, Connie’s never up this early, least of all on a weekend; secondly, he said ‘god level threat’ (which is apparently the worst level of threat), and third, Mikasa rarely speaks in the groupchat. Sure, she lurks, but she only ever emerges when something big is happening.

Some more people are active now and I have to scroll up to find Connie’s image.

Oh.

Oh, no.

Blurry and off-centre as the picture might be, it clearly depicts the ugliest green-and-white striped couch I ever laid my eyes on (“It’s an antique!” Connie had argued) that belongs to Connie and Jean’s shared dorm in which the latter of the two is curled up in (yet he still scrapes the armrests with the top of his head and toes). Littering the stained carpet around him — they prefer eating on the couch than on an actual table, so spills are inevitable — are wads of crumpled-up tissues. To really top it off is the Cars blanket that Jean won at a festival that’s seemingly in the process of being violently torn from his form, clinging to the armrest closest to the camera and pulling beyond. A message banner pops down from the top of the screen.

jean: i’m fine. and give me my fucking blanket back. i can hear you giggling from your bedroom. connie.

grammar police: connie give his blanket back

lainah: Haha!

grammar police: i swear things like this only happen when I’m gone

Right, Marco usually goes home for the weekends.

ymi: Lmfao that thing prolly gave you a disease in the first place

ymi: Have u even washed it once

mr. handsome: cut the ccrap Ymir we wash it more than you wash ur hair

sashacado: LMAOOO

ymi: At least I have hair

sashacado: AGAHAHH CONNIE

grammar police: you guys

grammar police: missing the point here

mr. handsome (replying to @/ymi): and its sad cuz mine is still better than youres

mr. handsome: like girl tf is up with the shaved sides

mr handsome: jojo siwa looking ass

sashacado: LMAOOOOO CONNIE EAT HER UP

Smiling, I return to the main chat screen.

ymi: Count your fucking days springer

ymi: At least I still have a girl

grammar police (replying to @/mr. handsome): ^yours

mr. handsome: ok nerd

grammar police: I’m taking away your Netflix

mr. handsome: I sincerely apoligize for my words.

grammar police: it’s the effort I guess

grammar police: back to Jean though

jean: i told u im prrfectly fine. just give ne back my blanket i’ll sleep it off

grammar police: do I need to come back to campus for the weekend?

mikachu: im stopping by the store. can grab some medicine

jean: ffs IM FINE GIVE ME MY BLANKET CONNIE OR IM TELLING THEM ABOUT THE GRATER THING

grammar police: Jean you need some medicine at least. I heard there’s a nasty flu going around and you’d be the type of person to catch it

grammar police: did you call your mom? I can call her if you want

jean: IM

jean: FINE

jean (replying to @/grammar police): DO NOT DO THAT

Poor Jean. He doesn’t have anyone to take care of him. Connie’s a mild germaphobe, believe it or not, at least when it comes to sickness (he nearly went crazy during Covid) and is probably keeping a safe distance from his roommate. And it’s not like any of his other friends are willing (or able) to help out, with Marco out of town. He doesn’t have any siblings here; the closest relative he has might be his mother all the way back in Trost. Not even a significant other.

Well. I mean.

There’s me.

But we’re technically not dating. Not yet. We’re still trying to figure things out — hell, I don’t even know if he likes me back.

Well, okay, there was that time we kissed. But it’s just a kiss. And it was an end-of the year party, and everyone was feeling it. And it’s January now and we haven’t done it again so it’s nothing. It’s nothing!

But that doesn’t stop the guilt from gnawing at my foundations like a tiny, evil beaver.

Wow. So you’re willing to let a guy suffer just because you’re unsure? Now that’s selfish. While you’re sitting here muttering to yourself he’s probably burning with fever and wishing he were dead. Real classy.

Shut the fuck up, beaver. It’s weird to just barge into someone’s house like that. And we don’t know each other that well.

You’ve known each other for a long time. He’s sick. At least take care of him. You don’t need to be his lover or whatever. Just be a good friend, huh?

I guess…

And you know Connie, too, don’t you? You’ll be doing him a big favour by getting this plaguefest out of his living room. He needs to finish off Breaking Bad so he can look at the memes without being spoiled. You’re not helping dear old Connie out, either.

Fuck, you do have a point.

Besides, everyone knows what happened between you and Jean at the Christmas party. They’re probably waiting on you to—

With great effort I manage to unfocus my eyes to see if anyone mentioned me but Connie and Jean have devolved into another stupid somewhat one-sided argument. So they aren’t saying anything outright. But they’re probably thinking it.

They’re definitely thinking it.

Okay, that’s enough from you.

I swipe off the groupchat to see all of my chats and open up my DM with Jean — right near the top — and start typing.

me: hey. sorry if this is weird, but i wanted to check on you bc ur really sick apparently

No, that won’t do. I purge the message.

me: hey fuckass. did you go out without a coat again? do i need to come and take care of

No, not that, either. Hopefully he isn’t looking at our messages or else he’d see me typing like an idiot. I tap the side of my phone as I think, stringing together ideas and words and different ways he could perceive me based on how I put them together.

I go back to the main groupchat.

me: @/jean @/mr. handsome im coming over. be there in 15

me: also @/mikachu could you pick up some lozenges and cough syrup? ty i’ll pay u back <3

I zone out at the screen until someone starts typing and throw the phone down on the bed again before scanning the ground for something wearable. Goodbye, sweet air and Renaissance scene and birdsong. After assembling myself and brushing my teeth, I check the mirror attached to the back of the shared bathroom door that Sasha decorated with some Sanrio stickers from Amazon. She had a phase.

Matching socks, jeans, campus sweatshirt, T-shirt underneath big enough to splay out underneath like a fan. Hair a mess. Face a mess. Good enough. It’s not like Jean will look much better. It’s not like I care that much about how I look around him.

I pull the door aside and collect my belongings — phone, bag, coat — before whisking through the door, full sail for Connie’s res building. I hit the stairwell running.

Do I know how to take care of sick people? I mean, more or less. It’ll be fine. All you have to do is feed them and make sure they don’t puke all over themselves. Right?

On the way I stop by one of the cafeteria atriums, one of the smaller ones I frequent for its souped-up coffee counter with every additive known to man. I scan the containers on the counter — milk, cream, nutmeg — until I find the packets of honey and shove one into my bag while trying not to look guilty to the few people that dot the room. I more than paid for it just by attending.

Now on the main floor by the parking lot, I struggle to untangle my keys from the mess in my bag and, without looking, push the unlock for my car. It beeps faithfully in the same place I left it and I hurry to the sound like a moth to flame.

It’s a smallish car that’s starting to rust near the top. I open the drivers’ door and toss my bag in the passenger seat before throwing myself in and shutting the door, shutting out the world, disturbing the rubber Kuromi keychain hanging from the rearview mirror. My breath comes out steamy. The car comes to life on the third try — best to let it warm up a bit before I go.

Inhale, exhale. I open up the groupchat.

jean: you will do no such thing

jean: @/me

mr. handsome: so THATS what it takes for u to finally visit

mr. handsome: ive been keeping it nice and clean just for u 😙

mr. handsome: until mr covid came and ruined it

mikachu (replying to @/me): dw about it babes xx

sashacado: mika get me chocolate

mikachu: maybe. driving

Mikasa and I, weirdly enough, were the first to get our full licenses. A smile pulls at my face and I duck down to look at my lap. Jean had nearly begged us to give him driving lessons, and of course, I agreed. Days of close calls, driving under the speed limit, getting honked at, constantly checking the mirrors, nearly rear-ending people at stop signs, elbows touching on the armrest…

Of course, now Jean can drive without a hitch. Maybe not good enough yet that I’d sleep while he does it, but that’s a personal thing.

I almost put my phone down before noticing I have a few more private messages.

jean: seriously you dont have to come. im fine

jean: its acc not a big deal

jean: i had colds like this before. im not ur responsibility

Something about that last line stings. I guess he’s right, technically. We’re not that close. Who am I kidding?

But I already announced to the world what I’m going to do. And I already decided on it.

me: im coming whether you like it or not. watch connie for me

When I can’t see my breath anymore I start driving.

Stohess is a big campus. And while I’m not a huge fan of carbon emissions, I’m also not a fan of 20-minute walks in blistering, dry cold (or wet cold, for that matter). Also, I don’t want to keep Jean waiting. The eco society is going to kill me.

I pull in to the all-too-familiar parking spot, the one Jean pulled into a hundred times in preparation for his driving test in his new, expensive car his parents bought him because “he was doing so good with his driving!”

He’d thanked me profusely for helping him out, which, in hindsight, was mildly out of character for a broody, arrogant guy like him.

But then again, so was kissing me at that party. Not so much the kissing part. Just the me part. And the gentle-tight way he held me, the way he looked into my eyes…

I suck in a sharp breath. But I’m doing this as a friend. Not because of whatever we might be. If Connie was the one who got sick, I’d be here, too.

Steeling my nerves, I take my bag with an iron grip and make for the dorm.

⋅ ⋆ ─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────── ⋅ ⋆

The door is already open when I arrive, propped open by a deflated volleyball. Weird. Some music that sounds like it was taken straight from Fast and Furious plays from inside. Knowing Connie, it probably is.

Nothing stirs when I open the door, but it is a pretty quiet door. The living room is right in front of me, ugly antique couch and all, but it’s completely empty. I didn’t walk into the wrong room, did I?

“Connie? Jean?” I slip off my shoes — Connie is insistent (I think shoes in the house is a crime anyway) — and creep through the dorm. “You guys?“

My voice rings through. Nothing. Peals of dread condense in my stomach and I pick up the pace, nearly barreling to a stop in front of the bathroom. I knock; first on the bathroom, then Jean’s bedroom. Connie left his door open.

“Jean? You in there?”

No response.

“I’m gonna— I’m opening the door, okay?”

And without time to think about what might be on the other side, I twist the knob and push.

Nothing. I even look behind the shower curtains.

Who even closes an empty bathroom?

Next is Jean’s room, but it’s also empty.

Where the hell are they?

I check my phone again and text the group chat.

me: @/mr. handsome @/jean where are you guys?

Waiting…

lainah: Gym

What.

me: are you sure.

lainah: One image attachment

Sure enough.

I should have noticed when his parking spot was empty.

me: dont let them leave. omw now

Sasha starts typing something but I throw my phone in the bag. I should have known they’d pull some bullshit like this. Well, not they. He. Something blistering and boiling threatens to spill over within me, but I take a deep breath. I’ll deal with him when I get there.

Jean’s a smart man, but not when he’s being stubborn.

⋅ ⋆ ─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────── ⋅ ⋆

The car ride, despite being short, gave me a chance to cool my nerves.

It’s fine. It’s fine. It’s fine. I grip the steering wheel in front of the gym. It’s fine. And step out.

Anytime Fitness is a strange and marvellous place full of people you might not see anywhere else. I don’t care about them. I scan the machines and see Reiner on the treadmill, and he meets my eyes a moment after. He nods in a different direction and I follow his gaze until I see the unmistakable bronze and shaved hair combination. I mouth a thank you and he smiles.

I must look completely out of place here, weaving between sweaty and half-naked bodies in my coat and jeans like I have a demon on my tail until I’m standing behind the chest press.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Connie’s saying and by the way Jean grunts it’s definitely not the first time.

“Let it go. I’m fine, and I’m going to the gym like I always do.” Jean’s voice is thick and nasal. “Buzz off.”

“Look, I already left the house with you. I can’t let you die here.”

“I said I’m fine—”

At the end of Jean’s rep, I slip the pin out of the weights. Jean nearly lunges over as the heaviness suddenly decreases.

Both look at me.

Connie looks normal. Jean is already slick with sweat, hair askew, red-nosed, with a slight wheeze lining his breath as he sits on the edge of the seat. Not normal. Not fine.

“Jean. My car. Now.” I point at Connie. “You take his back.”

A slight smile cracks his visage and that’s all I see before whipping around like an army man and making my way out.

⋅ ⋆ ─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────── ⋅ ⋆

There’s a lot of things I could be saying, but I don’t, because there’s too much. So we drive home in silence.

Now that we’re closer, I can really hear the struggle with Jean’s every breath, the occasional cough, the mucous-laced sniffs, as much as he might try to hide it. He just sits there, going on his phone, staring out the window, until:

“Pull over.”

And his eyes are closed, head tilted up, pained look on his sweat drenched-face. I move to the side of the door without question and he scrabbles for the handle — I unlock it for him — before opening the door and half-falling over as he pukes.

I pinch my lip between my teeth and look the other way as the smell hits right after. Fine my ass.

Ever since I was young, the sound of heaving has always unsettled me. Even fake gags. Like it flips a switch in my heart to induce a sudden thrill of terror as if someone horror-movie screamed. And yeah, it’s just throwing up, but I hate it.

My heart races as he unloads again and I just want to plug my ears. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I can’t sit here.

When the coast is clear I hop out and walk around the back. Jean is squatting on the pavement right before it hits the grass where his vomit lays, poking up through the stiff shoots. Though we’re outside, the smell is even worse. I try not to look at it as I hand Jean a bottle of water and set a stack of napkins I filched from Wendy’s on the passenger seat beside him.

“Thank—” he manages to croak out before pitching over again.

He’s been growing out his hair. I guess I didn’t notice it before, but now it’s long enough to get in his face in this position.

I gather the strands in my hands — soft as that day before the turn of the year — and hold them on the crown of his head as he retches.

When he’s done, I consider rolling down the windows, but decide against it.

⋅ ⋆ ─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────── ⋅ ⋆

Jean hardly notices when I pull in (again). Weirdly enough, his car still isn’t here — either Connie drives like a grandpa or he’s gone off somewhere.

“Jean.”

He inhales through his mouth, sucking up the new, pukey scent of my car, and opens his door with half-lidded eyes, leaning hard. It bumps against the campus van I’m parked beside and I cringe. Parked too close. He’s in no state to stand up on his own, let alone walk.

“Let me help you.”

He grunts in something like disagreement and I shut my door on him, going around the back again. Soiled napkins are shoved into the door storage and the water bottle is half-empty and crushed on the floor. Well. I offer a hand and after some hesitation he takes it, clasping my shoulder, and when I help him stand the added weight nearly crushes me. Jean is big, maybe not muscular like Reiner, but tall. Even through my coat and his too-thin sweater he radiates heat and he grunts a sickly air into my ear as he finds his footing. There’s barely enough room for the both of us between the car and the van so I shuffle us sideways, around the other side of the car and to the front. I gently lower Jean so he leans against the hood.

“Wait here.”

He doesn’t object as I shut the passenger door and lock the car before going back and offering my shoulder once again and I nearly fall over once again and we huddle together into the building. He’s never this quiet. Never so agreeable. Never so willing to take the help that’s offered to him.

This is a side of Jean I’ve never seen before. A side that I surely was never meant to see.

I swallow thickly and shuffle our bodies forward so I can push the button for the elevator. His head bumps against mine as it droops but he quickly straightens. “Sorry. Sorry.” His voice is gravelly and small, so small, as if it came from another person entirely.

I stare at the side of his face, but he’s focussed on something far away. “You’re okay, Jean.”

The elevator dings open and we go in. Seventh floor button. The door rolls shut.

Beep. Our knees buckle as the elevator accelerates and the screen above the button panel indicates that it’s going up. It usually smells of antiseptic unless it’s been raining.

Beep. The elevator’s always been slow which is why most people take the stairs instead. Connie calls it the ‘hellevator’ because he swears it almost dropped him once.

Beep. Jean’s trying to steady himself; hold himself up.

Beep. We haven’t been this close together since the party.

Beep. Jean takes an unusually large, wheezy breath and holds it. “Sorry.” His voice is hardly a rumble against my side.

“Why are you sorry?” I ask, quietly.

Beep. “For making you do this.”

Beep. The door retracts and muffled hip-hop fills the air. We walk off the hellevator and stand in front of the dorm. 704. An opaque plastic bag hangs off the handle and I take it in the same hand I hold my bag — thanks, Mikasa.

“You have your key?”

Jean grumbles and taps his pockets, pulling out a key ring. A rubber charm — Badtz-Maru, the little angry penguin — hangs from the ring. Sasha gave all of us one in her Sanrio phase. Keroppi for Connie, Charmy for Mikasa, Pompompurin for Marco, Cinamaroll for Eren, Kuromi for me. I (was forced to) help her choose.

The key retracts and Jean uses his free arm to turn the handle and shoulder the door open. He clears — tries to clear — the phlegm in his throat. “Alexa,” he gurgles. “Alexa, stop.”

The music immediately ceases and we stumble to the couch where Jean unceremoniously drops and tucks his head between the armrest and cushioned back, looking utterly uncomfortable.

“Get up, Jean.”

He sniffs.

“Come on. Bed.” I drop my bags on the coffee table. “Not couch.”

“No.”

“Connie will throw a fit. And so will I.”

“Just—” he tries clearing his throat again— “go.”

“I’m not leaving until you get better.” I blink. No, I’m not leaving him here alone. Why does that surprise me?

“I’m fine. I told you. Done it before. I’ll get better.”

“Done it before?” I giggle falsely. “What, you used to rawdogging colds all by yourself?”

A car passes outside, a familiar rising and falling sound against the unfamiliar silence of the dorm.

“Jean?”

“Go…”

And I swear he’s never sounded so… vulnerable before. Like he’s laid out all his organs on a big table and I’m holding the scalpel. Just waiting for the incision.

A little softer, I tell him, “I’m not going anywhere, Jean.”

And I take the goodie bag and head for the simple kitchen — that is, an inlaid fridge, stove, and pantry cramped behind an island counter with a sink. I hold the electric kettle Reiner got for Jean’s and Connie’s fifth anniversary (he thought they were together at first) under the sink and let it fill to two cups just in case before setting it back and switching it on.

Then I rummage through the drawers and cupboards until I find an old, strangely moist box of tea packets. Yuzu mist or Cheerful Citrus? I opt for the latter.

Tearing open the package, I glance at Jean who still hasn’t moved. The teabag I dump into a printed mug that Jean likes to use.

NUMBER 1 COUGAR

I wonder where he got that.

The kettle clicks off when the water boils and I fill the mug. Oh. Honey would be good. I return to the couch and sift through my bag, shifting my keys in the process. Now Jean stirs.

“Are you leaving?”

“No, Jean.”

I keep rummaging. I know it’s in there. Might be in deep, but—

“Please don’t.”

I pause, emotions — affection? concern? — swirling like particles of tea in water. “Okay, Jean.”

I finish making the tea in silence with an almost-empty bag of milk left in the fridge. How do these boys even survive? All that’s in there are cold cuts and a bag of only bread butts, among some other, strange things. Including a pair of boxers.

“Can you sit up?”

Jean sighs into the cushion and braces against the armrest to push himself into somewhat of a sitting position.

“Let’s get you to bed.”

His eyes cast down. I swallow the silence that suddenly envelops us. Nothing weird. Just a room. I’m just a caretaker. “Come on, Jean.”

“Can— can you help me?”

I fall into the little divot in the couch where Jean sits and let him wrap an arm around my shoulder. “Ready?” I say. “One, two…”

We stumble up and pass through the already-ajar door to Jean’s bedroom and I nearly stop to take a better look. He has blackout curtains, currently drawn, painting the room in a dark blue light except for a thin bar of sunlight from between the curtains that propagates as a glowing line on the carpet. The walls are plastered in posters, sketches, paintings, sketches. Half-finished drawings on his desk and swivel chair and a few on the ground. A small compartment shoved into one corner with every art supply imaginable.

Still taking in the view, I (we) back into the bed, butt-first, and Jean unwraps himself from me.

“You won’t… do anything weird… to me?”

I smile. Conversational, that’s good. “Not unless you want me to.” And I wish I had shut up before the first word even came out of my stupid mouth. Standing, I look over my shoulder. “I’m getting the medicine.”

“Wait. Don’t.”

Under the doorframe now, I pause. “I’m not leaving. I’ll be right back.” And I go to the goodie bag.

I should just work on keeping my mouth shut. Mikasa had picked out some ibuprofen, NyQuil, and lozenges. Pills should be good. I take the mug and the box and head back.

When I get back Jean’s sitting against the headboard, trying to uncrumple his blanket to get underneath.

“Let me help.”

He watches me then, helpless — Jean fucking Kirschtein, helpless! — as I set down the pills and mug on his glass nightstand and unfold the mess he’s got on the mattress. “Pull your legs up.”

He obeys. I pull the quilt over him.

I try not to stare. “You can put your legs down now.”

He obeys.

“Sit up, Jean. You need more pillows.”

Eyes glued to me, he leans forward so I can take his other pillow to prop him up more comfortably, leaning back when I touch his warm shoulder. Then I take the mug and offer it to him. “Drink some of this.”

Painfully quiet, he takes the mug with both hands and takes a tentative sip, lips curling around the brim of the ceramic to slurp up the soothing drink. He’s doing good. Until he hits a bump and starts sputtering.

Immediately I take the drink as he coughs up whatever went down the wrong way. When he’s done I realize I’ve been rubbing circles into his back so I take my hand off.

My phone buzzes in the living room. Shit.

“I’ll be back.”

Jean stares at his knees under the blanket and doesn’t move when I come back.

sashacado: omg yall

sashacado: theyre gonma be killed💯

armong us: What’s going on?

sashacado: @/lainah what did u do

lainah: One video attachment

sashacado: ONG LMFAOOO

sashacado pinned a message

mr. handsome: @/me im headed to urs with sash for a while. hope thats cool w you and all lmk if u need anything

jägermeister: are u fr leaving those two alone

mr. handsome: well good morning to u too pricness

Deleted message

jägermeister: oh right

sashacado: connor springer delete that message rn @/mr. handsome

sashacado: @/mr. handsome

mr. handsome: ok ok jfc im sorry

sashacado: @/mr. handsome

sashacado: ok good

Whatever the hell they’re up to now.

Jean thrashes slowly and I feel a little guilty for staring down at my phone the whole time. “Are you okay?” I breathe, sticking to his beside like a magnet. “Are you in pain?”

“Hot,” is all he says.

I peel the blanket off. He is hot. Really hot.

Not like that. He’s feverish.

“Can you… help me?”

“Yeah?” I stare at him — help with what? — until he raises his arms over his head.

Oh. A few circuits in my head switch off. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m can help.” Idiot.

Like touching something radioactive I grasp the edge of his sweater and slowly raise it, catching the shirt underneath for a fleeting second before it falls back down. Deep breath. Yes, I am helping out a guy I’m dating-not-dating who I’m definitely not attracted to to take off his clothes in his bedroom in his empty dorm. Because he’s sick. No problem. Because I’m a good friend.

The neckline catches on his jaw and I unhook it, delicately trailing the scruff on his jaw in the process.

And it’s off and on the ground. Holy shit. Jean’s been sweating. And I know all that dampness on his shirt, clinging feebly to his attractive sick form, didn’t come from his 10 minutes at the gym.

He doesn’t lower his arms. Oh, so we’re doing it like this.

Okay.

I come forward again, within earshot to the rattling in Jean’s chest with his every breath, and quite literally peel the thin white shirt off. This time it’s impossible not to touch his incredibly warm and damp body, not to scrape my nails against the softness of his skin, from his waist to his broad shoulders all the way down his arms. Now he puts them down.

I almost forget he still smells like puke.

“My pants…”

Ohoho. No way, buster. You’re on your own. I’m calling Connie. Nooo way.

“Okay, but unbuckle yourself.”

He does without question, fumbling first with his belt, which I help slide off, and then his jeans.

What in the ever-loving fuck am I doing? This sounds like a smut setup. No. I’m just a friend helping out a sick friend, two friends who have never done anything even slightly romantic together.

“Sit up on the edge, okay?”

He heaves his sweaty self to the edge of the bed, palms leaving wet marks on the sheets, and, staring at the ceiling, I grasp at the hem of his pants (skirting his boxers or whatever he’s wearing because I’m not looking) and pull them (he lifts himself at first to help) all the way down. In one smooth movement I turn back around.

“Put your shirt over your… yourself.”

I wait a good few heartbeats before turning back around and lo and behold, he’s done as told. Frankly, it looks even worse now, like he’s lying in bed completely naked with just a shirt covering him. (But that’s only true if I think it’s true!) The jeans I’m still clutching for some reason I deposit on a chair.

“Jean, I’ll be right back, okay?” I wait for a response I should know isn’t coming before going out again, this time in search for a facecloth. Which I do find, shoved in the corner of the linen cabinet. I should be grateful they even have some, but then again, it might’ve been another gift from Reiner they didn’t have the heart to throw away. I rinse it under some cool water and announce my re-entry.

“I’m back. Sit still.” Folding some of the damp cloth over two fingers, I carefully dab at the sweat on his forehead. No, I need to… I pick off some strands of his sandy hair from his face, holding his hair back against his scalp, and try again. Better. “Jean?”

He opens his eyes halfway, and they raise lazily to meet mine. He’s sweaty everywhere and too late I catch myself stroking his head. I wipe his cheek next.

“Drink some tea, okay? I need you to take a pill.”

“Pillk?”

“Yes,” I say encouragingly, like training a puppy. Neck next. “Just a pill.”

He takes in a deep mouth breath. There’s a portrait stuck to the ground on the other side of his bed.

Is that…

“I can’t.”

My eyes snap back and I pause, dabbing at his collarbone. “What’s that?”

He shakes his head, furrowing his brows as if the action took too much effort. “Can’t… swallow. Can’t swallow pills.”

I blink. “You can’t take pills?”

A fleeting smile meets his lips. “Vitamin gummies. Not. Vitamin pills. Might get stuck in m’throat.”

I fold up the cloth into a rectangle and smooth it out onto his forehead. “Just take some tea with it.”

“Tried. No.”

Who knew? For a guy with such a big mouth, he sure has a small esophagus.

“Jean, it’ll make you feel better.”

“No.”

I pop open the box and break open the tinfoil seal to take out a single pill.

“Noo…”

“Jean, you’ll be fine. You’re a big boy now.” And I vow never to speak again.

When I push the little oval against his mouth, I find it won’t open. Jean is breathing laboriously through his 90 percent clogged nostrils.

“Open up.”

He purses his lips, further preventing entry, and I swear he’s smiling a little.

“Very funny. Take your pill. You’re gonna suffocate yourself.”

Still nothing. I pinch his nose. He makes a muffled noise but otherwise doesn’t react.

Ten seconds. Twenty seconds. At thirty-three I let go. “Are you really willing to kill yourself over a pill?”

“Don’t want. Don’t need.”

“Yeah, and I ‘don’t need’ you choking over your own puke in your sleep.”

“No…”

“Jean.” I feel terrible already for doing it like this. “Try. If you don’t at least try, I’ll leave.”

I bite my lip, awaiting his response. I really shouldn’t have said that. I’m such an asshole. Fuck.

“Okay.”

Deep breath. I push the pill against his bottom lip and the soft tissue yields against my fingers for a moment before he opens. The mug is to his lips not a moment after; he gulps, Adam’s apple bobbing, and the tea in his mouth suddenly explodes out and sprays warmly all over my face.

All. Over.

I peel my eyes open after impact. Jean looks more awake than he did before, and with a discernible expression, too: terror.

Okay. Good!

Slowly, he reaches for the sweat-soaked cloth on his head and offers it to me. I shake my head.

“Be right back.”

Bathroom. Cold water. Cold water against my face. There’s two razors on the sink and the edges of the white surface have some hairs on them. Face hairs, I’m sure. I pray.

If whatever Jean has is contagious, I sure as hell have it now.

I turn the tap off and swipe the water from my face. Great. Okay. I bunch up my now-wet sweater. I can do this.

I re-enter the bedroom. Jean sits up a little straighter now, sipping in small increments. “Sorry.”

I put my sweater on the chair. “It’s okay.”

“I— really—”

“Jean, it’s okay.”

“I’m fine. I’ll get better.” Which is about the most complete sentence he’s said in a while.

“I told you I’m not going anywhere, didn’t I?”

He doesn’t say anything. Almost unconsciously, I gravitate to his bed.

“You already did too much for me.”

“Nonsense.”

“Why do… you do this?”

Now that gets me thinking. Because you’re sick. Because I’m a good friend. Because you’re my guinea pig for Hospitality 101. Maybe all three.

My eyes trace back to the scribbled portrait on the other side of Jean’s bed and I take the cloth from his forehead.

Thousands upon thousands of excuses, and a singular truth.

“Because I like you.”

And I take my time going back to the bathroom.

Cold water. Cold water against my hands.

“Coming in.”

“It wasn’t nothing.” Jean clears his throat, almost inaudible against my beating heart. “Back at the party. Wasn’t… nothing.”

“Wasn’t all that much, either,” I say dryly. Hopefully he doesn’t notice how shaky my hands are. How shaky against his pallid skin.

Jean inhales and I can see the movement through his chest. “No. Wasn’t a lot.” He tilts his head up at a minuscule angle to scan my face, and maybe it’s the perspective, or the weird lighting, but I could swear he’s never looked at me like this before.

Except for that time.

“So I’d…” he swallows. “Like— like to have more.”

For a few seconds, it’s silent. For a few seconds, all that there is are his dim eyes and mine. For a few seconds, we fall into each other and tread water, sinking, fading…

I break our gaze and tremblingly pluck a tissue from a box on the ground; hold it to his nose. “Blow.”

He takes a shaky breath and obeys.

Fold. “Again.”

He shuts his eyes and blows.

“Again.”

He blows until his air gives out. I drop the spent tissue.

“Again?”

He shakes his head.

“Let’s try the pill.”

He nods and stares as I open the foil for a second time and pop the new one in my mouth.

He watches, confused, until a wave of realization seems to hit him.

He stays statue-still as I lean in, put a hand on the headboard on either side of his head.

His heat, like a barrier, raises the hairs on my skin. He cups my jaw. I cradle the side of his neck, and his pulse beats at a million miles a minute. The pill begins to dissolve.

Our mouths barely touch, and I make the final connection.

Jean is tall. Jean is arrogant. Jean will laugh at you when you fall.

But Jean has the softest lips, the sweetest mouth (even when he puked out a buffet no more than half an hour ago). Jean will melt like soft butter under your touch. Jean will accept your tongue, no questions asked, and retaliate with twice the vengeance.

Like I’ve been dreaming of since that brief moment at the party, I let my hand run insouciant through his hair. No eyes watching. No social boundary.

He gasps softly for air and I do the same, pulling his scalp so he tilts to meet me better with a small grunt. God, I fucking love his hair.

Now both of his iron-hot hands are on me, hooking under my shirt, running up and down, claiming every square inch, and I let mine fall from his neck down to his slick chest down to his stomach down to his abs. Other still planted firmly in his hair, pulling, twirling, pulling, and when I tug again Jean squeezes so hard, doubling down, suddenly hungry, suddenly a starving man. Wrapping his arms around my back and pulling me closer, I oblige, hooking a leg onto his bed, between his knees, and my thigh brushes against his still-damp T-shirt, and he groans softly into my mouth—

and swallows with an ulp!

and it’s over.

I stroke his throat as the pill goes down and he stares hollowly at me until it’s gone. I recline and smile.

“Is that enough for you?”

Unblinking, he pulls me down again.

⋅ ⋆ ─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────── ⋅ ⋆

Connie kicks the asphalt with his definitely real Gucci slides. “Are you done?”

“Shh!”

He shoots his friend a withering look — that is, as withering of a look that he can muster.

“This is creepy. And I’m cold. Can we at least—”

Sasha puts down her binoculars and shows him what a real killer glare is. He rolls his eyes and scans his phone. Eren’s sent a message to the matchmaker groupchat.

emo king🖤⛓️: are u sure this plan of urs worked out

emo king🖤⛓️: excuse me if this is harsh, but it’s probably the dumbest shit of ur dumbshit ideas

me: yeah try telling Sash that

sharmin ultra soft: Eren’s right. Chances are Jean puked and turned everyone off

intimidating woman: i think there’s a chance

emo king🖤⛓️: are u fr in on this mikasa

sashami: you guys shh the star coming

Sasha shoots him another look before putting her non-stalker scope away in preparation for the star of the day’s arrival.

“Whad’d I do?”

As far as he knows, Connie is doing everything right. He’d told everyone that he was sleeping over at Sasha’s. (Her idea.) And now it’s Monday, and it’s time for the star’s (code name) first class (and also Sasha’s), and now they’re sitting out in the cold like a couple of dumbasses watching the stairwell windows. (Also her idea.) What the heck?

“I’m going in the car,” Connie grumbles. He doesn’t wait for the inevitable retort and climbs in to the drivers’ seat.

The car. The one silver lining to this whole ordeal. He’d eaten, put his feet up in, and used up every last drop of gas on this baby and Jean couldn’t do a damned thing about it.

But the person coming through the door isn’t their star. It’s Jean. Huh?

Connie pops out of the vehicle and joins up with Sasha.

“Oh— you’re here, too?” Jean’s brow furrows deeper. “What’s going on?”

“Well, hello to you, too,” Connie grins. “Looks like you‘re doing a lot better.”

“No thanks to you lot.”

“Where are you going?” Sasha pipes in, and he knows what’s coming next. She’s using her interviewer voice.

“Just… going to class.” Jean smacks Connie’s shoulder. “Keys?”

He produces them with a flourish and a jangle and the taller takes them, unlocking the car.

Beep beep!

Sasha casually tails him, twisting around to block the driver’s side door.

“Sash.”

“Were you a good host?”

“I mean, I was really sick.”

“You have actual, proper food, right? Did you feed your dear caretaker?”

“Uh…” he smirks. “Yeah.”

“Is your room clean?”

“It’s fine!”

“Did you sleep together?”

He rolls his eyes and wedges a hand between his car and the girl. “Okay, get out.”

“Answer my question!” Sasha cries as she stumbles back and Jean hops in. Without another word, the car backs out. Jean turns and comes forward so he’s perpendicular to the parking spot before lowering his window.

“Connie! You owe me 20!” And then he’s gone.

Dumbfounded, the boy looks to Sasha, finding her staring at her phone. “What’s wrong? You on your period?”

“Oh, fuck off. Look.”

star: sorry sash,, not coming to hospitality. i got sick :(

star: jeans staying home for me tho. dont wait up <3

And the mastermind screenshots the fruits of her labour.

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would you look at that. more kissing. *throws tomato* i did 80% of this in one day. no regrets!! (said eren.) (ill shut the fuck up now) i hope you enjoyed! it actually turned out a lot less gross than i originally planned (they were gonna do it with the nyquil ewwwww) but this is fine. right? i never actually kept a pill on my tongue like that for so long so for my sanity's sake let's pretend this is how it all works.

this started out as a oneshot. however,,, i decided to add more parts to it because i'm a sucker. check it out if you like! <3

byebye

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masterlist part 2 - low tide

#jean kirschtein fanfiction #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirstein fanfiction #jean kirstein x reader #aot fanfiction #attack on titan x reader #pushable #pushs oneshots

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liquidorcard · 20 days ago

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HEY Y'ALL IT'S MIKAILER WITH AN "ER" WHY IS THAT SO HARD TO GRASP!?

---

Did I get your attention, Mikaila? I hope so, let's see.

Mikaila, I don't like you. You've done shit that's soured my opinion of you. I'm acknowledging that now to get that out of the way. I'm not here to be two-faced about this or blow smoke up your ass.

But as one idiot who stayed in a toxic relationship to another-- I'm not making fun of you because I think I'm better. I know. Being in a relationship like that brings out some ugly shit. You resent and fear people will never forgive you. You don't know if you will forgive yourself. I'm not making fun of you because I think I'm better than you.

And it feels kinda good, being treated badly? In a weird way? When you're used to it? When you feel you kind of deserve it? It did for me too. My abuser did some fucked up shit to me. I don't know how to describe to you the strange feelings I'm left with now. Sometimes I think I finally hate her, sometimes, as pathetic as it makes me feel, I still miss her. It's a rot in you that never really goes away, but you learn to live with it. I understand that agony. I understand that anger of how fucking unfair it is.

You know my opinion of Lily. You're not going to trust me that I'm not saying all this just to get you two to break up to hurt her. Fair. Very fair, not going to pretend like it's not. But if Lily loves you, nothing I'm about to say should be an issue. She should want what's best for you, right?

Here's the rub Mikaila, it's been a few years now. I know you want out of your situation at home, but it doesn't seem like Lily's going to be able to help you with that at this point. I'm sure Lily's given you plenty of reasons as to why, and it's time to listen to her.

If you're heart's set on coming to Canada, your best bet is getting a job here. Or even, going to school. Art degrees (Here in Canada) aren't as expensive, provided you go to the right school. Even taking out a student loan for just one year to figure your shit out. I know you're in quite a bit of debt right now and don't want to get into more, but. You gotta do what you gotta do.

Here's the college I went to. Yes, your work is sufficient to potentially get admitted. Believe it or not, art school's get that illustration is a learned skill. Artists start from all different levels:

Look through the admissions requirements to see if you have the academic records to be admitted. If not, you could also consider upgrading through online classes aswell.

Again though, your best bet is to try to find employment. The cost of living isn't great here right now, but it isn't great anywhere. I doubt you'll be able to find cheaper rent in America.

Once you're here or wherever you end up, away from the chaos of your home, you might find it a lot easier to get your head around, establishing some better independence and becoming a citizen by yourself. It's a shitty process, but not as bad as the one you guys have in the States. We stan an immigrant here.

You need to look out for you, Mikaila. It's not selfish. It's not a matter of whether you "really deserve it or not." Nobody's going to save you. You're emotionally spent because of your parents, You're emotionally spent because of Lily. And it feels kind of nice how much Lily needs you. But you can't help her until you help yourself - and again, if we're all wrong and Lily really loves you, she shouldn't have a problem with you finding your way.

My own mother once told me I was "born sad." I've never not hated myself. I ate up any little bit of love and validation no matter how many bitter, razor pills that came with it too. That's just how it is for some of us.

But you know what Mikaila? Fuck em. Fuck all of them. Fuck everything. Fuck me, Mikaila. You've got one life. One body. One you. Whatever you think of her, someone's gotta fight for that poor bitch. Why not you fight for you?

Everyone's a stinky meat bag stripped down, Mikaila. Everyone's made a fool in the wake of the shit people like you and I have been through. Not everyone's going to be able to forgive everything, but everyone's not wholly past forgiveness.

I'm no better than you Mikaila. Nobody is. Some of us just get to know the worst sides of ourselves better than others.

I don't like some of the things you've done, girl. But I see you. I get it. Tell us all to eat shit. Fix your life. Don't rely on Lily to make you feel whole or to save you. To make you feel worthy. No person can do that. She could be the reincarnation of Mary Mother of God herself, and you couldn't expect that from her. Be your own advocate. If your relationship isn't toxic, it can survive you becoming a more whole you.

This asshole is rooting for you. Give me an excuse to undoomer "Mikailer." My girl needs a win.

#lily orchard #lily orchard critical #anti lily orchard #lily peet #lily orchard stuff #lorch posting #youtube #liquid orcard #eldritch lily #mikaila orchard

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nenelonomh · 2 months ago

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the university masterlist

there are many excellent universities around the world, each offering unique programs and opportunities. here are some highly regarded institutions to consider (and what subjects they're renowned for):

united states:

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ massachusetts institute of technology (mit): renowned for its programs in engineering, computer science, and physical sciences.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ harvard university: known for its law, business, and medical schools.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ stanford university: excels in business, engineering, and the sciences.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ california institute of technology (caltech): focuses on science and engineering.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ university of california, berkeley (ucb): strong in a wide range of disciplines, including engineering, business, and the sciences.

united kingdom:

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ university of oxford: offers a broad range of programs and is known for its rigorous academic environment.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ university of cambridge: excels in sciences, engineering, and humanities.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ imperial college london: specializes in science, engineering, medicine, and business.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚london school of economics and political science (lse): focuses on social sciences.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ university college london (ucl): offers a wide range of programs and is known for its research output.

australia:

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ university of melbourne: known for its strong research programs and diverse academic offerings.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ australian national university (anu): excels in research and offers a wide range of programs.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ university of sydney: offers comprehensive programs and has a strong research focus.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ university of queensland (uq): known for its research and teaching excellence.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ university of new south wales (unsw): strong in engineering, business, and sciences.

canada:

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ university of toronto: offers a wide range of programs and is known for its research excellence.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ university of british columbia (ubc): strong in research and offers diverse academic programs.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ mcgill university: known for its medical and law programs.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ university of alberta: offers strong programs in engineering, business, and sciences.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ university of montreal: known for its research and diverse academic offerings.

when applying to and considering universities, it’s important to consider what programs and environments best suit your interests and goals.

do you have a specific university in mind?

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octuscle · 1 year ago

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Studying has been so stressful lately ? Have you got something to help me relax ?

Thursday morning, 8:00 a.m. You park the old Toyota Prius that you took over from your mother in the student parking lot. Thank God it's the weekend soon, you think. But you don't feel like going to the microeconomics lecture right away. Integration of AI in the pricing of inhomogeneous markets. Unfortunately, you're not one of those nerds who can jerk off to the lecture notes. But you have to go through it now. Before you go in there, you surf through Instagram a bit. An ad for Chronivac TimeTravel pops up. It looks silly… Kind of like a role-playing game. You have to choose a character. You think about how your dad always raves about his college days. Maybe it would be cool if it was 1983. And if you were a bodybuilder. A stupid meathead. You choose that as your character. You'll worry about the rest later. Your lecture is about to start. And you still have to fight your way through the group of activists protesting against the climate policy.

The lecture is really too complicated for you. AI is a complex subject. But in combination with microeconomics? Whoever came up with that… You breathe a sigh of relief when the lecture is over. As well as you can with your face mask on. This pandemic is really exhausting. But it's good that at least there are lectures in presence again. This videoconference crap is really not mature yet. Next lecture is Spanish for Business. That's more your thing. The professor is really hot. Good motivation to go back to the workout later. You've been spending every free minute in the gym for two months, and you're starting to see results.

During the lunch break you sit with the lads from the wrestling team. Wrestling is not your thing. But the lads look like bulls. And you like that. You talk about the legalization of cannabis in Canada. That would be a cool thing here too. You've pretty much given up smoking and alcohol since you got into bodybuilding. But you don't think there's anything wrong with a little weed now and then.

At 4:00 p.m., university is over for you for the day. You sit down in the five-year-old VW Jetta that you took over from your mother. It's really embarrassing. You feel ashamed every time you drive it to the gym. Let's see, maybe you can at least put a cool matte black finish on it…

The workout was awesome again. You totally forgot the time. You're back in your car at 9:00 p.m. and drive to your dorm. You turn on the news while you prepare your dinner. China's Vice President Xi Jinping is appointed vice chairman of the Communist Party's military commission. The 57-year-old is seen as a potential successor to state and party leader Hu Jintao. Boring stuff… You certainly don't have to remember that name.

The alarm clock rings at 5:00 am. Breakfast. And off to the gym. The car radio is talking about a possible invasion of Iraq. Many of your buddies from the gym were in the army or navy… Their nerves are on edge. You can understand if you still have friends or family who might have to go to war. But 09/11 must be avenged!

Before university, leg training is the order of the day. You are proud of your colossal thighs. Many of your buddies only work out the upper body. You have the best proportions here. You've only been lifting iron for two years. But for you it's not a leisure activity, for you it's a religion.

You're just in time for your lecture. Game theory. You take your pad and pen and start taking notes. A laptop would be really cool right now. But you know four or five people on campus who have one. It's just incredibly expensive… But you won't need much longer for your bachelor's degree in sport management. Then you will hopefully be able to afford something like that. And hopefully also a new car. Your Jeep Wrangler is a cool car. But it's also eleven years old. Built in 1980… At least it gets you to the gym at 4:00 p.m. reliably.

Some dumbass turned on CNN instead of MTV on the workout floor. Some shit with the Soviet Union. Apparently everything is falling apart there and the former Soviet republics are forming a new union. Boring shit. Fortunately, someone quickly switches back to MTV. Good Vibrations with Marky Mark. Cool guy. But quite a weakling. You do a double bicepz pose in front of the mirror. You've been here every free minute for almost three years. Maybe you should be in one of those music videos.

After your workout, you wanted to go straight to bed. But it's Friday night. 10:00 p.m. The lads ask if you'd like to go to the late show of the new film with Michael J. Fox. Back to the Future. Why not. The movie's pretty funny, too. Time travel. Strange conception… But you like the idea…

Saturday morning, October 22, 1983. At 10:00 you're back at the Gym. On the way here, you've been listening to the radio about peace demonstrations in Europe. The Russki is once again threatening nuclear war. And we are stationing Pershings in Germany. Bonnie Tyler's "total eclipse of the heart" is playing from the speakers in the gym. Fuck the Russki and fuck the Germans. You're all about getting your muscles burning. At 2:00 p.m., your shift at the counter begins. Tonight you and your pals are going to wrestling. That would be a cool alternative. You as the new Hulk Hogan! But until that happens, you help out at the gym on weekends. And during the week, you'll drive a backhoe on a construction site. Hey, it's a cool life. You don't want any other!

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #chronivac #male transformation #muscle transformation #tank top #time warp

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equallyshaw · 1 year ago

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nova scotia princess | nico Hischier

nico hischier x oc marchand

warnings: swearing, mostly fluff and some sweet moments between her and her siblings.

word count: 4.3k

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marie celine marchand had been in new york for the past year, much to brad's dismay. he hadn't seen her since christmas, and was shocked to see her at his doorstep up north. it was now july during the off season, and marie had decided to head on up to nova scotia, for her birthday no less.

◦

the youngest of the five, she could not have been more different from the rest. she never engaged in hockey (i know! a sin!) never took any inkling towards skating or snow sports, but instead towards soccer, her first love. she was enamored with it and it took her to faraway places with team canada and for her college years at the university of stanford. she had a very hard time leaving california but knew it was best to start fresh, and it just so happened that she loved new york. at the time, it was only a 40 minute drive to her long time childhood friend, ryan graves before he was traded to the pittsburgh penguins. the day he was traded, he gave her a phone call and she was completely gutted. yet she understood the business side of the league, though brad had gotten the better part of it his entire career. after he was traded, she hadn't thought about the new jersey devils as the season rolled around. she no longer had something tying her to them, so she moved on and supported her friend's ryan and sidney on the pens from afar. it wasn't until she found her self in upper manhattan meeting up with some girls from work at a little known and upscale restaurant, that she had saw some of the people she'd grown close to over ryan's stint with the team. she walked past them towards her table, most certainly garnering some looks once they heard the familiar name of marie celine from the group of girls. she got a text from a few of them night, restarting the snapchat groupchat she had had with some of the younglings. most notably, hughes', nico and dawson. she rolled her eyes as messages flowed in that evening as the girls took some wine back to the girl's apartment.

that evening all of the caught up with one another, and then she received a text from nico askin if they wanted to get some coffee for old times sake. what did she have to lose? and so it began than, secret dates and then group dates with the team, spending weekends at a time with nico at his place getting up to whatever came about. throughout all of it, she kept it a secret from everybody besides her older sister rebecca; nobody needed to know. at least not yet.

◦

marie walked up to the front door of brad's lake house and she mentally prepared herself for the all the pestering and bombarding that would happen once she'd set a foot in the house. she pulled out the key he had given her the year he finished building it, and she quickly made work with the lock and pushed open the tall door. "brad! im home!!" she called out, smirking to herself as she heard dogs running towards her and footsteps. she looked up to see brad with wide eyes and then his famous smile. she took her hand off of her small suitcase, and met him halfway for a hug. "who's here?" "who's that?" "if its jr im gonna cry" and that made marine giggle, already knowing it was ryan. "you good?" brad questioned pulling away just a bit and she nodded, "yep! are you? you forgot to invite me for my birthday!" she said faking a pout. "kat!" he called for his wife and marie slapped his arm, "don't go blaming it on your wife you hooligan!" marie said as katrina walked in and she squeled. "i thought you were going to sw-" and then katrina cut herself off. brad looked at his wife then to marie and then they were both gone and off towards the kitchen. "we have a surprise guest!" katrina called out towards the open back door and a group of heads turned towards her. she saw her siblings, ryan, sid, nate, patrice b, pasta, their partners, a few childhood friends of the siblings and a few aunts/uncles. "damn got the whole fam i see..." she whispered to kat who giggled. "uh yeah you could say that." she said looking down at the girl as some of the guys came to say hi. "hi guys." she said looking at some of the nova scotia greats as ryan rested his arm on the brunettes head. she looked up giving him a playful dirty glare, "ah hem." she said garnering a few laughs. "well if you'll excuse me-" she paused pushing ryan's arm off of her head, "ill be down soon, i need to do a few things." she said smiling at everybody before she was off towards a guest room that was designated hers.

she sat down on the edge of the bed as she put her head in her hands, cursing the world. her phone buzzing like no tomorrow with texts from nico, the hughes brothers and dawson. she had been dodging their texts and calls after (what she thought) was nico cheating on her. they were on facetime a week ago and she could have sworn she heard somebody in the background as she heard a muffled voice and nico look in front of him one night. so when she didn't show up to the airport in switzerland the day before, nico was freaking out. which in turn freaked the other boys out. she heard a soft knock on her door, and she looked up to see ryan. she sniffled, wiping her tears as he stepped in and shut the door behind him.

she broke down even more, and ryan quickly sat down beside her and wrapped his arms around her. he had no idea why his best friend was hurting, yet he kept quiet until her sobs became softer. "mc....whats going on?" he asked as he pulled back just a bit to look at her, her cheeks stained with redness and moisture. she sniffled, "he-he's cheating on me." she said and ryan knew exactly who she as referring to, besides her sister she ofcourse told him. they were two peas in a pod, through thick and thin. ryan sighed, growing heated with anger. "and they wont stop texting me...they are worried as to why i didn't make it to switzerland but i don't wanna talk to them." she said pushing her head into his chest. ryan kissed her head, trying to calm himself. she needed her best friend, he'd take care of nico later.

◦

the next morning ryan left the marchand house early to get some coffee for him and marie. the two hadn't left her room all day. she was too much in state of disbelief, shock, and grief as she explained to nico what had happened. as soon as he was turning onto the main strip her called nico up, ready to tear him a new one. nico picked up on the fourth ring unsure as to why he was calling, "wanna fucking explain to me hischier why the fuck you cheated on the very best thing that has ever happened to you and our universe huh? why you decided to hurt the very brightest light? you are so in for it hischier, you have no idea. you have a whole league about to give you hell." ryan spat breathing rapidly. nico was at a loss for words over in switzerland. "what?" he croaked in confusion and exhaustion. since marie hadn't been responding to anybody's calls or messages, he hadn't slept. too sick with fear and anxiety. "she caught you with a girl nico, on facetime. are you seriously that daft?" ryan growled. nico thought back to their last facetime and he went through the events of it. he'd been sitting up in bed shirtless, around 11:30 his time, he was just about to go to bed after finishing his sleep tea and he then realized. she had heard his sister in the background, as she had come to visit him and the two had just gotten done playing a round of Mario kart. "christ- didn't cheat. promise." he said standing up now and looking at flights to new york. "who was it then nico?" ryan questioned, "my sister. can get flight to new york today." he said and ryan chuckled, "yeah no she ain't there." ryan said turning into the drive through, " if you're gonna make things right, you gotta come to scotia." ryan stated.

ryan walked back into the house with his, brad's, kat's and marie's coffee with a few breakfast sandwiches. "wanna tell me why marie is crying on the dock?" sidney said as soon as ryan walked into the kitchen. "wait what?" ryan asked setting everything down before looking towards the dock, and now seeing nate making his way down it. ryan sighed, "misunderstanding." he simply stated taking the coffees out of the tray. "misunderstanding, huh? is that why you two were locked in her room all evening?" sidney asked sipping his hot coffee. ryan sighed again, "she thought her boy-boyfriend cheated on her." was all ryan stated sipping some coffee. "boyfriend?" sidney questioned, eyes going wide. "does brad know?" he questioned, and ryan scoffed. "like he need to know every little thing in her life." and sidney wouldn't buy it. "no no, you have to tell him! or at least get her too." sidney said with authority, and ryan rolled his eyes. "sid, she doesn't want him to know at least not yet." ryan said watching nate and marie interact. nate had his arm around the brunette, as she sobbed into his shoulder. "you know we all look at her like a sister, please do the right thing. we only want the best for her and that only happens if brad knows, and you know that." sidney said before taking his cup of coffee and heading out to nate and marie. ryan groaned as kat walked in with the young kiddos. "ou! mommy juice, thankyou ry." kat said thanking the defenceman. she saw the look in his eyes, and then she look towards the crowded dock. "oh no." kat said, "oh no? whats up?" brad said walking in rubbing his eye. he paused as he saw the three of them outside, huddled together, "whats going on?" brad asked now walking in front of ryan. "uh-" "spit it out graves." brad demanded and ryan hummed. "she thought her- her boyfriend cheated on her. but it was a misunderstanding." he stated and brad was angry. "boyfriend?! what do you mean misunderstanding graves? spill it!" he said as kat took the kids outside. "she thought her boyfriend of 10 months cheated on her but it was only his sister that she heard. i just got off the phone with the dude so its been all cleared away, i just hadn't had the chance to tell her." and then he said softer, "and tell you he's coming here." ryan said not meeting his best friends eye sight. "here? are you mad ryan! who is this so i can knock some sense into him?" brad demanded and ryan was in for it. he was cornered, there was no getting out of this. "i cant say brad, only marie can." ryan said defeatedly and brad rolled his eyes. "so you're saying that you really arent her boyfriend?" and ryan now met his eye sight in shock. "you're telling me that you two haven't been together at least at some point?" he said and ryan laughed. "oh god no, shes my sister brad. you know she hates me half the time, for good reasons but no. i couldn't ever go down that path and there has never been a moment ever for me to. ew gross." ryan said and brad sighed. "always thought it was you two against the world... man i gotta pay up." he said amusedly. "pay up?" ryan said cocking an eyebrow. "a long running bet with patrice." and now it was ryans turn to laugh. the nova scotia princess was never his and would never be.

on the dock, marie thanked nate for listening to her ramble and cry into his shoulder before sidney sat down. nate rubbed her upper back, trying to comfort the girl. sidney sat down and offered her some kind words, and she thanked him. "i just don't know what was not good enough for him? what did i do wrong?" she said looking off into the clear lake. sid and nate looked at one another, silently trying to get the other speak up. "nothing sunshine, nothing. its all him." sid said trying to reassure the young girl he'd seen as a little sister since the day she was born. him and brad had been in practice together when they got the call from brad's dad, urging the boys to head down to the hospital with sid's dad. the moment he had seen the young girl was how he felt when his sister was born, he'd protect and be there for her through everything. "how about a boat day?" nate offered up and marie smiled. she could never and would never pass up a boat day.

◦

it was around 10:30 pm and the original group that had been there when she'd shown up was back at the house, with all the kids passed out as they sat around talking, drinking and now making smores. ryan had been looking a this phone for the past two hours waiting to heard from nico, but nothing had come in since he had landed and was about to go through customs. marie had been having a great evening, her favorite people all in one place once again. celebrating her birthday that evening, and now talking like old times. ryan and marie sat with one another, cuddling up to stay warm now that a chill had set in. "dude, put your phone down for the princess' birthday." brad said annoyed that ryan and been on his phone for the better half of two hours. marie glared at brad, "its alright brad. no harm done." she sighed. she had a love hate relationship with the nickname, but most importantly when it was said out loud by brad. it made her cringe somewhat. "hows new york, mc?" nate asked and marie smiled then frowned softly before her smile reappeared. "its going great! work is going well and stuff. i even joined a soccer league for fun, it'll start up in august." she said swirling her drink. "we'll have to catch a game before we head to training camp." sid offered and the others agreed. she smiled softly, before ryan untangled himself from her after he got a text message. nico had arrived. brad eyed ryan as he got up and walked into the house. kat smiled softly knowing what was going to happen and nudged brad in the side a bit. "its fine, let them be." kat whispered and brad rolled his eyes.

marie shut her eyes softly, just basking in this moment, this evening and few days she had taken off of work to be here. it had been far too long since the last time she'd been home, always using her summers to train in san diego before returning to school. she hadn't been home in 6 years and promised herself that she'd make it up here more, now that she lived in new york. "oh princess!" she heard ryan call from the house and she sighed, standing up and throwing the blanket onto the seat before heading inside. "yes grumpy prince?" she asked giggling before she froze, seeing nico. he had a hopeful yet loving gaze on his face as she looked at him with tears beginning to form. what was he doing here? she turned towards ryan who had begun to make his way out, and she pulled him back inside as he was already through the threshold. "wanna tell me why he's here ryan?!" she asked upset. "ask him-" and she cut him off, "no, you tell me!" she screamed now alerting some of the guys outside. nico stood on the other side of the kitchen, with a defeated look on his face with guilt and regret spreading throughout his body. "he cheated on me and you're going to invite him here, ryan? tell me why that was a good idea, huh?" she pestered as brad walked in. "no fucking way." he muttered staring down nico, and nico took a step back. "answer me!" she yelled at ryan who held his hands up in innocence. "marie-" she cut off her brother, "you knew?!" she said stepping back away from the two. "let him explain himself." ryan said as she looked at the two people she thought she could trust in this world. thankfully, so far nate and sid hadn't given her any reason to distrust them. "let him explain, please. if you still don't believe him or want him gone- ill-we'll get rid of him." brad said pleading to his baby sister and she sighed, arms crossing over her chest. she turned slowly towards nico who had a pleading look, and her heart twinged just a bit. "fine." she said and the two smiled widely, backing out into the back and brad shut the doors.

"follow me." she said walking past him and they began their dissent up the stairs. she opened the door and let him walk past her into the room, and she shut it behind them. she then went to the window and shut the blinds, but not before flipping the group off. she heard groans and a few 'fuck' as they all wanted to hear and see the drama unfold. "i didn't cheat, schatzi. i promise." he began and she shook her head, "alright bud." she said rubbing her eyes. "i didn't baby, you have to believe me." he began again and she shook her head again. "who was it, huh? somebody like your ex? was it somebody better than me? what did i do wrong, ni. what did i do to hurt you?" she questioned through a strained voice. nico shook his head, "you've never hurt me, you've never done a thing wrong. promise. the girl-"he chuckled pulling her hands into his, inching closer to her. "the girl was my sister, nina." he said a bit amused now. his eyes crinkled as he smiled, his dimples on full display as he looked into the eyes of the girl, he loved. "wait what?" marie asked in disbelief. "your sister?" she asked and he nodded. she looked down and nico quickly diffused her guilt, "schatzi its ok, i promise!" he said pulling her chin up to look at him. she shook her head, "i - i mis read things and i feel like an idiot." she hummed tearing her chin away. "misunderstanding." he hummed and she frowned. "im sorry." she said with tears beginning to form, "im an idiot. oh my god." she said and he pulled her info a hug. he kissed her head, rubbing her back softly. "im a fool, im a utter fool how could i be so daft?" she rambled in french and nico chuckled, "you two have thing for the word daft?" and marie cursed the universe for him knowing french. "wait, two? who?" she questioned pulling back to look up at him. "nico yelled at me yesterday." he said laughing now and marie had a concerned look on her face, "how bad?" and that made nico laugh even louder. whenever she needed back up, he was there to give it. she looked up at nico as his laughs subsided and she stood on her tip toes to kiss him. he pulled her in closer, leaning down a bit so her feet could be flat. they pulled apart, resting their foreheads on each others. "so, how much trouble am i with the guys outside?" he questioned softly and now it was her turn to laugh.

◦

it was the next morning now and marie woke up to an empty bed, groaning before getting out of bed. she made her way over to the blinds and opened the blinds to see kat, patrices and david's girlfriend, and the kids on the patio eating breakfast while all the guys are missing. she squinted over towards the lake and she did a double take before seeing her brother's boat. it was a crowded boat, with all of them sitting facing one another. she spotted nico and prayed that the guys weren't going too hard on him. after the two spoke last night, they made there way downstairs for a bit before nico was on the verge of passing out due to the time difference. she quickly changed into a white t-shirt and linen pants, before heading down he stairs. "ti!" she heard rue screamed as she walked outside, and quickly made her way over towards the older girl. she wrapped her arms around the girl's legs before rue pulled her up for a hug. "good morning my girl." she said speaking in french as the two shared a small moment in the morning sun. "hows my favorite god daughter?" she hummed and kat laughed, "your only god daughter." she mused. marie giggled, "that's why she's my favorite." she said setting her back down in her height chair, and sat down on the bench with noah , patrice's son. "ouu cinnamon rolls!" the girl overly gushed, garnering some giggles from the kids. "ever the oldest child." kat teased and marie winked, "i take my role very seriously." she hummed.

the boat was on its way back now after a very stern talk with nico, unfortunately. basically threatening his very existence if he were to ever step out of line. the usual. oh, and that there was somebody or two on every team who would not hesitate to teach him a lesson. nico and the guys all got off onto the dock, with ryan running in front to get some cinnamon rolls- steal is more like it. "hey! that's for us." marie said swatting his hand away as he came up behind her, "i swear to god grumps, im gonna cut off your hand." she said quirking an eyebrow between the two's showdown. "good morning princess!" brad said placing a kiss on the girl's head before stealing a cinnamon roll himself. "hey, not fair!" ryan said and marie mimicked him, earning a chorus laugh from the kids. "im the one that brought them." brad said shrugging, "no i did." sid said and patrice shook his head, "you brought the original one's, i was told to pick up another dozen." patrice said picking up his youngest, felix. "yall are too much in the morning." she mumbled in french, standing up and walking inside to get some coffee. nico followed her into the kitchen to get a refill on his, to which she happily poured him some. "how bad was it?" she questioned, peering around him quickly and then looked back at him. he shrugged, "theyre just as scary in life as on ice." he said and she giggled. "yeah...they have no filter." she said pushing a strand of hair behind his ear. "tell me about 'nova scotia princess'." and she rolled her eyes, "the fairest of them all." he added with a grin and she growled loudly. "you inconceivable fools!" she yelled out, making her way outside. "im going to kill you all!!!!" she said looking at sid, nate, ryan and brad. she did a fake start towards brad before going after nate, "come here nathaniel!" she screamed running after the man, who was, unfortunately, being outrun by a 5'4 semi-retired defenceman. "somebody help me here!" nate called out and sid began his dissent, but she was too quick and made her way after him. "you are so getting in that water!" she screamed, referring to a tradition the 5 of them had. a surprise morning swim in the cold water. "its cold!" one of the kids screamed and marie laughed. "perfect!" she grinned. ryan tapped nico, "lets get our girl." ryan said nodding towards the brunette and nico smiled. "lets get her." and the two made their way towards the water where she was running after the two. "no!" she screamed as ryan almost grabbed the girl. "don't you dare!" she said jumping a few feet away from him. thankfully with sid and nate being neighbors, she freely began her way towards their places with the group following her. nico was the one closest to and almost grabbed her as well but she took a step to her right and was out of reach, "alright i gotta do it myself!" brad announced jogging over and marie knew it was game over. "not the old man!" she gasped, earning a few chuckles.

it was not brad who got the girl but nico, who was immediately instructed to drop her off the dock and into the lake. she screamed, cried, and kicked but unsuccessfully as she felt water hit her back. as she came up, everybody else decided it would be a great idea to also jump in. she covered her head momentarily before splashing water in all directions, "you! you traitor!" she said with astonishment as nico tried to get closer. ryan dunked her before she could say anything else, and nico laughed with the rest of them. she came back up and pushed ryan, "rude!" "the princess of nova scotia is officially home!" brad said as he made his way towards her, ready to splash her as well.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

hope you all enjoyed!! pls like and reblog if you did!

random tags: @hischiershoe @nicohischierz @cuttergauthier @skatesnstuff @fallinallincurls

#nico hischier #nico hischier x oc #nico hischier blurb #nico hischer fic #nico hischier imagine #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl blurb #hockey burb #hockey imagine #ryan graves #sidney crosby #brad marchand #nathan mackinnon #boston bruins #boston bruins blurb #new jersey devils blurb

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imaginesbymk · 3 months ago

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*that tiktok sound* hey!!….. hey…….. how y’all doing………..

i have a lot to say but lemme start off by saying i am SOOOOOooOoOoO sorry for ghosting this blog for a year. same thing’s been happening with wattpad. i ghosted 2 fics on there. and that includes my original dystopian scifi novel that has been in self development hell (as i like to call it)

my only explanation is that i grew unmotivated and grew out of writing fics. it came to a point where im just maladaptive daydreaming, the maladaptive daydreaming takes over and it doesnt let me actually create anything. the other reason is timing. i worked my ass off and finally graduated college with a 4.0 GPA, i did more commercial modelling and runway for a university fashion show so i can build my portfolio, i work full time and my pay is big, i made more art in my sketchbook... basically i just lived my life outside of tumblr.

another thing, the giant elephant in the room, i met cameron monaghan and morena baccarin at fanexpo canada! cameron went through my sketchbook, signed my jerome/jeremiah fanart, and asked me if i was an art student. after i told him i was rejected twice, he looked through every single page in my sketchbook and told me, "aw. well, fuck 'em!" that "it looks like [you] don't need art school" after all. he saw my reservoir dogs acrylic portraits of mr. pink and mr. white and told me he used to watch that film almost 600-700 times when he was 12. he then took a pic of my Grace Van Dien fanart (when i met her in 2022 at fanexpo canada) and he told me he's gonna send it to her. i had no idea they even knew each other.

i couldn't afford a table selfie+autograph combo at morena's autograph sessions so i only paid for a selfie. i said "oi" and "obrigada" to morena before and after taking a selfie with her and she said thank you back with a big smile :D so fanexpo was surreal.

i've always wanted to meet cameron monaghan and after years of writing fanfic for jerome and jeremiah valeska and other gotham fandom character imagines, i *finally* got to meet him.

ive been thinking about coming back and writing again, not just tumblr but on wattpad and getting serious with my original scifi dystopian novel. there's so much that i wanna do in life other than become financially stable and become a successful petite model until i no longer look the part. its hard for me to write because i get so easily stumped. even when i create some ambiance and rewatch the fandom to get inspired, it just drops again. writing is hard. that is why i have respect for my mutuals and my favourite famous authors that got me to write when i was 12. (lol) and anyways, i made new friends and im the happiest ive ever been romantically that i dont need to *imagine* anything with a fandom character, i do it for those who imagine it themselves!

im so sad to come back here and see that a few of my mutuals are inactive or have deactivated. and i became like them and abandoned my work. to be fair, my writing isn't that good, and it still isn't, and if i get something written and published here or on wattpad on a professional hardcopy of my book, i won't believe that it's my best work - and i aced my creative writing elective in my program, so that's a bummer.

i think meeting cameron is giving me a nudge to get back to writing. it feels weird wanting to write jerome/jeremiah fanfic after interacting with the actor himself for less than 5mins of his time, and that he's a human being that experiences human stuff like we all do, the only difference is that he's famous. im not sure if it healed my parasocial mindset with my fave celebs. i do want to take my time and write *something*. i am not doing the requests that have been in my drafts and inbox for a year (sorry :O) im just gonna take my time and readjust and get something down.

<3 mad love to my mutuals @myriadimagines @spacetalbot @arrogant-sonofa-bitch @littlemissvincentvega @emcon-imagines @writerdream22 @jjsmaybank20 @witchthewriter @musicallisto @locke-writes @zodiyack @mahvericks @karasong @moonlit-imagines @randomfandomimagine + many more moots

#mk talks #cameron monaghan #gotham #jerome valeska #jeremiah valeska #morena baccarin #leslie thompkins #misc

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justforbooks · 5 months ago

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Donald Sutherland

Commanding and versatile actor known for his roles in MAS*H, Don’t Look Now and The Hunger Games

Donald Sutherland, who has died aged 88, brought his disturbing and unconventional presence to bear in scores of films after his breakthrough role of Hawkeye Pierce, the army surgeon in Robert Altman’s M*A*S*H (1970), one of the key American films of its period. It marked Sutherland out as an iconoclastic figure of the 60s generation, but he matured into an actor who made a speciality of portraying taciturn, self-doubting characters. This was best illustrated in his portrayal of the tormented parent of a drowned girl, seeking solace in a wintry Venice, in Nicolas Roeg’s Don’t Look Now (1973), and of the weak, nervous, concerned father of a guilt-ridden teenage boy (Timothy Hutton) in Robert Redford’s Ordinary People (1980).

Although Sutherland appeared in the statutory number of stinkers that are many a film actor’s lot, he was always watchable. His career resembled a man walking a tightrope between undemanding parts in potboilers and those in which he was able to take risks, such as the title role in Federico Fellini’s Casanova (1976).

Curiously, it was Sutherland’s ears that first got him noticed, in Robert Aldrich’s The Dirty Dozen (1967). During the shoot, according to Sutherland, “Clint Walker sticks up his hand and says, ‘Mr Aldrich, as a representative of the Native American people, I don’t think it’s appropriate to do this stupid scene where I have to pretend to be a general.’ Aldrich turns and points to me and says, ‘You with the big ears. You do it’ … It changed my life.” In other words, it led to M*A*S*H and stardom.

Sutherland and his M*A*S*H co-star Elliott Gould tried to get Altman fired from the film because they did not think the director knew what he was doing due to his unorthodox methods. In the early days, Sutherland was known to have confrontations with his directors. “What I was trying to do all the time was to impose my thinking,” he remarked some years later. “Now I contribute. I offer. I don’t put my foot down.”

Sutherland, who was born in Saint John, New Brunswick, Canada, was a sickly child who battled rheumatic fever, hepatitis and polio. He spent most of his teenage years in Nova Scotia where his father, Frederick, ran a local gas, electricity and bus company; his mother, Dorothy (nee McNichol), was a maths teacher. He attended Bridgewater high school, then graduated from Victoria College, part of the University of Toronto, with a double major in engineering and drama. As a result of a highly praised performance in a college production of James Thurber’s and Elliott Nugent’s The Male Animal, he dropped the idea of becoming an engineer and decided to pursue acting.

With this in mind, he left Canada for the UK in 1957 to study at Lamda (the London Academy of Music and Dramatic Art), where he was considered too tall and ungainly to get anywhere. However, he gained a year’s work as a stage actor with the Perth repertory company, and appeared in TV series such as The Saint and The Avengers. He was Fortinbras in a 1964 BBC production of Hamlet, shot at Elsinore castle and starring Christopher Plummer. He also appeared at the Criterion theatre in the West End in The Gimmick in 1962.

In 1959 he married Lois Hardwick; they divorced in 1966. Then he married the film producer Shirley Douglas, with whom he had twins, Kiefer and Rachel; they divorced in 1971. Kiefer, who grew up to become a celebrated actor, was named after the producer-writer Warren Kiefer, who put Sutherland in an Italian-made Gothic horror film, The Castle of the Living Dead (1964). Christopher Lee played a necrophile count, while Sutherland doubled as a dim-witted police sergeant and, in drag and heavy makeup, as a witch.

In an earlier era, the gawky Sutherland might not have achieved the stardom that followed the anarchic M*A*S*H, but Hollywood at the time was open for stars with unconventional looks, and Sutherland was much in demand for eccentric roles throughout the 70s.

He was impressive as a moviemaker with “director’s block” in Paul Mazursky’s messy but interesting Alex in Wonderland (1970), which contains a prescient dream sequence in which his titular character meets Fellini. In the same year, Sutherland played a Catholic priest and the object of Geneviève Bujold’s erotic gaze in Act of the Heart; he was the appropriately named Sergeant Oddball, an anachronistic hippy tank commander, in the second world war action-comedy Kelly’s Heroes; and he and Gene Wilder were two pairs of twins in 18th-century France in the broad comedy Start the Revolution Without Me.

Sutherland was at his most laconic, sometimes verging on the soporific, in the title role of Alan J Pakula’s Klute (1971), as a voyeuristic ex-policeman investigating the disappearance of a friend and getting deeply involved with a prostitute, played by Jane Fonda.

Sutherland and Fonda were teamed up again as a couple of misfits in the caper comedy Steelyard Blues (1973). It initially had a limited distribution due mainly to their participation together in the anti-Vietnam war troop show FTA (Fuck the Army), which Sutherland co-directed, co-scripted and co-produced.

Sutherland always made his political views known, although they surfaced only occasionally in his films. In among the many mainstream comedies and thrillers was Roeg’s supernatural drama Don’t Look Now, in which Sutherland and Julie Christie are superb as a couple grieving their dead daughter. Despite the dark subject matter, the film was notable for containing “one of the sexiest love scenes in film history”, according to Scott Tobias in the Guardian, the frank depiction of their love-making coming “like a desert flower poking through concrete”. The actor so admired Roeg that he named another son after him, one of his three sons with the French-Canadian actor Francine Racette, whom he married in 1972.

John Schlesinger’s rambling version of The Day of the Locust (1975) saw Sutherland as a sexually repressed character – called Homer Simpson – who tramples a woman to death in an act of uncontrolled rage. Perhaps Bernardo Bertolucci had that in mind when he cast Sutherland in 1900 (Novecento, 1976), in which he is a broadly caricatured fascist thug who shows his sadism by smashing a cat’s head against a post and bashing a young boy’s brains out. “And I turned down Deliverance and Straw Dogs because of the violence!” Sutherland recalled.

In Fellini’s Casanova, the second of his two bizarre Italian excursions in 1976, Sutherland coldly calculates seduction under his heavily made-up features. The performance, as remarkably stylised as it is, still reveals the suffering soul within the sex machine.

In 1978 he appeared in Claude Chabrol’s Blood Relatives, a made-in-Canada murder mystery with Sutherland playing a Montreal cop investigating the murder of a young woman. More commercial was The Eagle Has Landed (1976), with Sutherland, attempting an Irish accent, as an IRA member supporting the Germans during the second world war, and as a chilling Nazi in Eye of the Needle (1981). Meanwhile, he was the hero of Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1978), who resists the insidious alien menace until the film’s devastating final shot.

In 1981 Sutherland returned to the stage, as Humbert Humbert in a highly anticipated version of Vladimir Nabokov’s Lolita, adapted by Edward Albee. It turned out to be a huge flop, running only 12 performances on Broadway. Both Sutherland and Albee played the blame game. “The second act is flawed,” Sutherland said. “Albee was supposed to have rethought it, but he never did.” Albee told reporters that he had scuttled some of his best scenes because they were “too difficult” for Sutherland because “he hasn’t been on stage for 17 years”.

Continuing his film career, Sutherland played a complex and sadistic British officer in Hugh Hudson’s Revolution (1985), and in A Dry White Season (1989) he took the role of an Afrikaner schoolteacher beginning to understand the brutal realities of apartheid. In Oliver Stone’s JFK (1991), he held the screen with an extended monologue as he spilled the conspiracy beans to Kevin Costner’s district attorney hero Jim Garrison.

After having made contact with young audiences in the 70s with offbeat appearances in gross-out pictures The Kentucky Fried Movie (1977) and National Lampoon’s Animal House (1978), the latter as a pot-smoking professor, he was cast as an unconvincing bearded stranger in Buffy the Vampire Slayer (1992).

On a more adult level were Six Degrees of Separation (1993), in which he played an unfulfilled art dealer; A Time to Kill (1996), as an alcoholic, disbarred lawyer (alongside Kiefer); Without Limits (1998), as an enthusiastic athletics coach; and Space Cowboys (2000), as an elderly pilot. By this time, he was gradually moving into grey-haired character roles, one of the best being his amiable Mr Bennet in Pride and Prejudice (2005).

The Jane Austen novel was also featured in the television series Great Books (1993-2000), to which Sutherland lent his soothing voice as narrator. Other series in which he shone as quasi baddies were Commander in Chief (2005) – as the sexist Republican speaker of the house opposed to the new president (Geena Davis) – and Dirty Sexy Money (2007-09), in which he played a powerful patriarch of a wealthy family.

Sutherland continued to be active well into his 80s, his long grey hair and beard signifying sagacity, whether as a contract killer in The Mechanic, a Roman hero in The Eagle, a nutty retired poetry professor in Man on the Train (all 2011), or a quirky bounty hunter in the western Dawn Rider (2012), bringing more depth to the characters than they deserved. As President Coriolanus Snow, the autocratic ruler of the dystopian country of Panem in The Hunger Games (2012), Sutherland was discovered by a new generation; he went on to reprise the role in three further films in that franchise, beginning with The Hunger Games: Catching Fire (2013).

He played artists in two art-world thrillers by Italian directors: in Giuseppe Tornatore’s Deception, AKA The Best Offer (2013), he was a would-be painter helping to execute multimillion-dollar scams, while in Giuseppe Capotondi’s The Burnt Orange Heresy (2019) he was on the other side of the heist as a reclusive genius targeted by a wealthy and unscrupulous dealer (Mick Jagger).

Aside from James Gray’s science-fiction drama Ad Astra (also 2019), in which he co-starred with Brad Pitt, Sutherland’s best late work was all for television. In Danny Boyle’s mini-series Trust (2018), which covered the same real-life events as Ridley Scott’s All the Money in the World, he played J Paul Getty, the oil tycoon whose grandson is kidnapped; while in The Undoing (2020), he was the father of a psychologist (Nicole Kidman), reluctantly putting up bail when her husband (Hugh Grant) is arrested for murder.

For the latter role Sutherland was in the running for a Golden Globe, having already received an honorary Oscar in 2017.

He is survived by Francine and his children, Kiefer, Rachel, Rossif, Angus and Roeg, and by four grandchildren.

🔔 Donald McNichol Sutherland, actor; born 17 July 1935; died 20 June 2024

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

#just for books #Donald Sutherland #in memoriam

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