#dream is a massive dick in this story and I both love it and hate writing it ahahahaha
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retired Dream is a fuckboy?? đ (also lol that tried to autocorrect to âfun boyâ) xo @hardly-an-escape
Oooooo yes, this one is so much fun! And retired Dream can be both a fuckboy and a fun boy, as a treat đ¤Ł
The basic premise for this one is Dream becomes human, but Hob tells him to go live life as he pleases (an echo of what Dream told Hob when he was first immortal) and Dream...goes off to travel and work off thousands of years of sexual tension đđ
The whole thing started off in this short fic I wrote ages ago and since then I've just been prodding at it and trying to give it a real plot and not just make it a pwp lol. Here's a little bit of the fic now in the initial draft!
Murphy, as promised, does not disappear the next morning. In fact, he gives Hob a rather enthusiastic goodbye that has the immortal seeing stars and questioning whether it was possible for an orgasm to detach oneâs soul from their body. Wherever heâd learned that trick with his mouth, Hob was tempted to send the other person a gift basket. And maybe a proposition of his own. âDonât be a stranger,â Hob says, as he kisses Murphy goodbye in his doorway. âAnd you should send me some selfies of any new piercings you get.â Murphy smirks against his lips. âOnly if you send me one back. Preferably if the reaction isâŚpositive.â Hob snorts. âReal roundabout way to ask a man to send you a dick pic, Murphy.â âI have been told one needs to beâsubtle with such things,â Murphy replies, fluttering his lashes as he steps back from Hob and into the hallway. Hob unashamedly rakes his body over the form of his friend, his now friend with benefits theyâd decided last night, and hums approvingly. âYou know you never need to be subtle with me,â Hob says. âI think 600 some years earns you the right to be as crass as you want. Itâs good for a manâs ego too, you know,â he adds, waggling his eyebrows. Murphy rolls his eyes. âGoodbye Hob,â his friend says. âIâll see you around.â Then heâs turning and walking down the stairs towards the building exit. Hob is almost certain the man is sashaying his hips on purpose, giving Hob one final show before heâs gone for who knows how long.
#seiya writes#seiya's wip previews#dream is a massive dick in this story and I both love it and hate writing it ahahahaha#because I want to punch him in the face not because I hate my writing to be clear LMAO#retired dream is a fuckboy wip
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want you to want me - m. tkachuk
a/n: iâm awful at intros but this fic is my whole ass child. i started it months ago and i picked it up back and then i just couldnât stop writing. now weâre at a whopping 10k words and iâm really happy with the way this one came out. i hope you guys like it as much as i loved writing it.
big thanks to @hookingminor @igor-shestyorkin & @tkafuckit for reading this as i wrote it and gassing me up ily all sm
warnings: smut
You were Matthewâs dream girl, and you didnât have a fucking clue. You were leaning against the cold metal bleachers of your former high school, chatting with whatever teacher probably wanted to hear all about that shiny NWSL contract you signed right out of college with the Chicago Red Stars. It was well deserved, a few national titles in college put you in the position in the first place, and Matthew respected the hell out of you. You wouldnât know, by the way he never seems like he actually wants to speak to you and the few snide remarks about your sport in general. That started forever ago, when Matthew royally fucked up any chance he had with you later in life because he was a competitive asshole.
It started when you were twelve, and middle school was nothing short of a mess. Matthew was growing into his own, adding a near foot to his height over one summer while his father and coaches doted on the fact that he was getting bigger. Getting bigger meant getting better, and for a few years winning was the most important thing in the world. But, becoming a hormonal preteen came with something else, feelings about the girl who sat three rows behind him in almost all of his classes.
Then third period gym class came around, and Matthew was a competitive monster. The kind of kid who took that way too seriously, and you accidentally became public enemy number one. You were the only person in his class who could even come close to beating him at anything, because you were just as much of an athlete as he was. Soccer had become your craft, and much like Matthew, you declared youâd go pro one day. So, Matthew did what any other insecure twelve year old boy would, he teased you relentlessly. It was awful, but by the time Matthew had gone off to play for the National team you had forgotten about his bullshit.
Apparently, youâd done something in a past life to warrant dealing with Matthew for longer than you ever anticipated. Jamie was your little sister, and Tarynâs best friend. Best friend was probably understatement, the pair were inseparable on and off the field. They trained together, they played on the same teams and that meant way too much time with the rest of the Tkachukâs. You learned quickly, that the rest of their family was wonderful and Matthew seemed to be too thick headed to fall in line.
You tolerated Matthew, brushing his silly remarks off just like you did when you were younger. The thing was, Matthew didnât want you to just tolerate him, but he didnât know how to get you to stop hating him. You make your way over to Matthew whoâd been standing next to his brother since the start of your sisterâs game.
âHi Brady,â You greet, tapping Brady on the shoulder who pulled you into a bone crushing hug. That annoyed Matthew the most, the way you seemed to love his siblings and despise him. In your defense, nobody was more supportive of your professional career than Brady, whoâd made a promise to catch a game the second he could, âHi Matthew.â
You were waiting for something from Matthew, an acknowledgement for finally achieving a dream of yours. Youâd gotten the congratulations from the rest of his family, a massive celebration because Keith thought you deserved it. Matthew probably didnât think you did. You could practically hear his smug little voice about how much his recently inked contract was compared to yours, because youâd heard it since you were kids. He used to rip on your athletic abilities every chance he could, something about how it didnât matter how hard you could kick a ball you couldnât hold a hockey stick so he was just better.
âYouâre here!â You hear the chipper voice of your little sister approach, Jamieâs sweaty postgame arms wrapped around your waist. Youâd been in Chicago, signing some paperwork and looking into finding a place to stay when you had to go for camp. You promised youâd make it back in time, and your flight landed less than five hours ago but you made it.
Matthew bit the inside of his cheek to keep his smile to himself, watching his own sister push past him to see you. Taryn loved you, because sometimes she just needed a big sister and her brothers were in another country most
of the time. It was the part that killed him the most, seeing you with his family. You fit right in, a fierce athlete with drive that rivaled his own. Brady side-eyed his own brother, watching him instead of the scene unfolding in front of him. He was frustrated with his own brother for not just telling you the truth, that he teased you because he was an idiot who didnât know how to handle having a crush on you.
But Brady was going to do it himself if his brother didnât.
***
Matt, you donât have a girlfriend right?
Matthew knew damn well he should not have answered his sisterâs question, but when he realized her best friend had been sitting right next to her in the kitchen, his curiosity got the best of him. So he did, telling his sister he was single and sparing her details of any of the girls heâd gone on dates with the past year. That was his life is Calgary, a constant revolving door so no one would see what was underneath layers of sarcasm and angst. But every summer, heâd come home and wonder when heâd start to build a life for himself, and if heâd ever find that person to do it with. That was when his brain would start to wander, fantasies of a future that always seemed to involve you. He loved to imagine it, the years that youâd both spend supporting the otherâs dream. Matthew would do anything to make sure you achieved yours, and he thought youâd do the same. Then youâd both settle down, the big house with the white picket fence and a shiny ring on your finger Matthew put there himself and years of arguing about what sport your future children would play - heâd even consider letting you have just one.
Unfortunately, none of that could be real until he figured out how to get you to hate him less. Taryn apparently had the same idea, and had been scheming with your sister for months. The two girls were looking at Matthew with devilish grins on their faces, like whatever they came up with would totally work.
âY/N doesnât have a boyfriend,â Your sister hums, sipping the smoothie they forced Matthew to drive them to go get, âItâs sad actually-â
âWe think you should date,â Taryn explains, Matthewâs eyes went wide. His sister didnât know the whole story, or just how far back this stupid fued went. Taryn always loved you, so Matthew just kept his remarks to himself.
âI know you know Y/N doesnât like me very much,â Matthew explains, âSo tell me how thatâs going to work.â
âApologize to her, if she can forgive me for anything sheâll forgive you,â Jamie sighs, thinking of all the times youâd shown her mercy when she didnât deserve it.
âYouâve got to be sorry,â Brady interrupts, mouth full of food while he goes to go look for more in the fridge. He turns around, Matthewâs eyes giving him daggers, âWhat? You were a dick to her for years, youâve got to fix that first.â
It didnât take much convincing after that, Taryn had already planned out what Matthew should say to you. Matthew wasnât going to repeat those words, because he knew exactly what heâd say to you if he ever got the chance. He was trying to fix his past, because the way he acted towards you was the one thing he regrets.Â
So with the help of your little sister and the Find my Friends app, Matthew was pulling up to a soccer field heâd been to plenty of times. He used to run through the park nearby, catching a glimpse of your practices when you were in high school and Matthew was an afterthought. He hops out of his car, smiling when he could see you running drills alone. You were dribbling the ball, counting to yourself while you were weaving through cones you set up.
âIâve never been good at those,â Matthew calls out, walking over to you while you stopped and caught your breath, âI kick the cones with my skate every single time.â
âMaybe youâre not as good as you think you are,â You tease, grabbing your water and guzzling it down, âWhat are you doing here?â
âI, uh, I came to apologize?â Matthew admits, knowing his face was probably bright red. He was nervous, the good kind like he got before a big game, âI was just an insecure kid then, and you didnât deserve what I did just because I was afraid youâd beat in something.â
Matthew left out the part where he felt like he was still that kid all the time. All of those insecurities about himself seemed to be picked up by every reporter in Canada when he was there. You bit your lip, pretending like you were trying to debate whether or not you should forgive Matthew at all. In reality, you would have forgiven him ages ago if heâd just apologized sooner. It was so long ago, and sometimes you thought Matthewâs constant taunting made you better. He was pleading, baby blue eyes staring at you sadly while he waited for your answer. He looked like he didnât think he deserved to be forgiven, shoulders slumped while he tried to read your body language. It was something you noticed about Matthew forever ago, he could have everything in the world but when he looked at you he seemed almost sad.
âI mean I could forgive you, but only if you beat me,â You cross your arms, raising an eyebrow at Matthew, âIf I win, I donât have to and if you win all is forgiven.â
âReally? Isnât that why we were in this situation to begin with?â Matthew points out, crossing his arms at you.
âI thought you werenât that kid anymore,â You remind of his own words, testing him to see if heâd put his money where his mouth was. Matthew smirks, chuckling to himself, âCâmon Tkachuk letâs see what you got.â
Matthew shook his head, laughing and lining up next to you. You both counted to three, sprinting down the field at full force. Matthew knew his height was the only thing working to his advantage while he tried to keep up with you. You were nearing your finish line, and Matthew didnât think he was going to win. You were going to forgive him regardless, but Matthew didnât know that. His arms stretched out, grabbing your waist and pulling you into his chest. Matthew turned his body around, stepping over the line before you did.
âGod, youâre such a fucking cheater Matthew,â You hit his chest, Matthewâs hands still firmly placed on your hips.
âI didnât want to lose,â Matthew admits, all of his smug attitude diminishing immediately, âJust want you to forgive me.â
âIâll forgive you if you never pull that shit on me again,â You poke his chest, slipping out of his grip and running to your stuff before he could notice how nervous he was making you.Â
No. Absolutely not. You told yourself while you checked your phone, rolling your eyes at the warning text from Jamie that Matthew was on his way, you couldnât have anything but indifference to Matthew Tkachuk. It got harder everytime you saw him, the past few years had been nothing short of kind to him, he was growing from a dumb immature boy to a man more and more every summer. You turn around, peeking at Matthew who was sitting down and catching his breath, a winning smile on his face, the same kind he had the very first time he schooled everyone at floor hockey in middle school.
Maybe you could be friends.
***
Matthew liked having you as a friend, mostly because as of right now that was all he was going to get. You definitely didnât trust him, which was valid considering Matthew had been a dick to you for years, but he was working on it. He had to, that uncontrollable feeling that he cared about you was getting harder to shove back down with every year that passed.
âYouâre friends now, you donât need to stare at her like a creep anymore,â Brady scoffs, watching his brother gawk at you from afar. Matthew couldnât help it, you just had a glow about you, you always did, but somehow in the summer you were golden. Tonight you looked even better, maybe itâs because you smiled at him when he walked instead of scowling like you usually did.
âHeâs in love with you,â Steph giggles, sipping her drink and giving Matthew a side eye, âHeâs been staring at you all night.â
âHe apologized to me,â You confess, holding in that little secret about Matthewâs visit to the field even from your best friend. You had the same friends, the same group of people whoâd been pushing the two of you to work it out for years. It wasnât that you didnât want them to know that they no longer had to worry about one of you blowing up because the other was there, you just wanted everyone to let it go too. Matthew deserved a little forgiveness, you could only imagine the pressure he felt on himself back then, and while he didnât totally deserve your protection - you were going to give it to him, âDonât-â
âOh wonder why, I know itâs because he looooves you,â Steph teases, âDid you forgive him?â
âYeah I mean weâre both older and Iâd like to think heâs wiser, and besides our parents are way too close,â You knew this was going to be your excuse for a while. It was better for everyone that you forgave him, Jamie and Taryn spent more time together than youâd spend with anyone and you're just as close with the rest of their family. It wasnât untrue that it was in fact for the best, but that didnât mean Matthewâs stupid dimples didnât persuade you before you could think about anyone else, âCan we stop talking about this?â
Matthewâs eyes didnât leave you once that night, especially after the way Steph downed tequila shots and convinced you to join her. You deserved to celebrate, youâd accomplished something Matthew knew was your biggest dream because it was the same as his. He was proud of you, not that heâd gotten a chance to show it.
âIf youâre going to go pro Y/N, youâve got to start keeping up,â Brady chirps, watching you stumble over your own feet to walk over to him and Matthew. Matthew had seen this once before, a level of drunkenness where you turned into bambi but that was so long ago he never thought heâd see it again.
âIâll go pro in beating your ass Brady,â You snap back, shooting daggers over Brady who was already cracking up, âHi Matthew.â
âHi,â Matthewâs voice was small, a weird sound considering he was usually the loudest in the room. Brady scoffs, walking away from the two of you before he snaps at how hopelessly in love his brother was. You turn your head in confusion, your mind far too hazy to realize why Brady was so annoyed in the first place, causing Matthew to chuckle, âWant to play? Might be best if weâre on the same team.â
Matthewâs thumb shot over to the beer pong set up on the other side of the room, a mischievous smirk on face, âI mean if itâs for the best.â
Matthewâs arm wrapped around your shoulders holding you close to his chest while you both played pong was definitely not for the best, and it wasnât helping that stupid crush you had on him. You could feel Stephâs stare from the corner of the room, and you look at her to mouth a donât at her. It was nice having Matthew on your team, finally a moment where instead of arguing with each other about whoâs elbow was clearly over the table - you got to do the same thing to Brady.
âBrady youâre cheating,â You call out, Matthewâs head thrown back in laughter at your seriousness.
âYou heard her Brady, elbows over the table,â Matthew breathes out, his body still rumbling with laughter at his little brotherâs expense.
âOh look at you two, youâre just gonna raise some winners one day arenât you?â Brady chirps back, both happy to see you getting along and annoyed once he realizes that means he was going to get roasted by both of you now. You felt heat rush to your cheeks, tucking your face into Matthewâs arm in hopes no one saw the way you shrunk at that stupid joke.
âWeâre winners right now,â Matthew calls out, his last ball landing in the cup and sealing the game for the two of you. Matthew would raise winners with you, it was something he thought about from time to time, but those thoughts were never going to see the light of day, âAlright drunky I think itâs time to get you home.â
âYou can stay, Iâll just catch a ride with someone,â You waive Matthew off, who shook his head no at you before you even started speaking.
âOne, my dad would kick my ass if he knew I left you,â Matthew starts with, holding up one finger with another on the way, âTwo, weâre friends now and Iâd like to make sure you donât die before you see a pro game.â
Matthew had seen you this drunk before, but what he didnât know was that getting you home would be more difficult than he thought. You started in the direction of your house, but apparently you were a runner and a speedy one at that. Now you were barely two blocks away from Matthewâs parents place and if he could at least get you there heâd be able to call it a night - which wasnât fucking easy.
âAlright Iâve had enough,â Matthew huffs, jogging to catch up with you and scooping you into his arms. You were hanging over his shoulder, Matthew making his way down the street with the house in his sightline. You could have cared less, laughing your ass off while Matthew walked up the stairs and finally placed you back down on your feet, âBe quiet, go up to my room and get some clothes and go sleep in the guest room.â
You werenât quiet, not at all and Matthew was amazed not one of his parents came down to see what all the chaos was about. After Matthew had to walk you up the stairs, running back down for some water and hoping you werenât a disaster by the time he got back - he found you in his bed. You were curled up right in the middle, an old London Knights shirt on your body, Matthewâs favorite. Matthew grabs his comforter, throwing it over your body. He sighs, leaning against his door frame and smiling to himself at how comfortable you looked, flicking off the light and retreating to the guest room.
Matthew hated the guest room. He hated how hard the mattress was and after a few hours of no sleep and tossing and turning - he gave up. Matthew hoped no one else was up, but not to his surprise his mother was already in the kitchen, and judging by the look on her face, she knew who was upstairs.
âCare to explain?â Chantal smirks, raising her eyebrows at her son. Matthewâs face got red, his landing on the back of his neck to cover the blush.
âShe fell asleep before I could even get her to the guest room,â Matthew shrugs, hoping his mom wouldnât push it any further, âI, uh, apologized the other day.â
âGood,â Chantal hums, a knowing look on her face. She didnât like to push Matthew, her one kid who seemed to be a little rougher around the edges than the others, but that silly feud never sat right with her, âHere, bring her a coffee, Iâm sure she needs it.â
Matthew nods, grabbing the mug his mother was holding out and starting to make his way up the stairs. He heard the tell her you made it from his mother and shook his head. He knew what she was thinking, especially with the way Chantal seemed to talk about you. His mother thought you were nothing short of perfect, and Matthew would be a liar if he didnât think the same thing.
âDid I fall asleep here?â Youâd woken up confused, your question only answered by the jerseys hanging on the walls, you were in Matthewâs room. You rub your eyes, the door creaking open way too loudly for how dead you felt.
âOnly after you almost fell down the stairs and ran three blocks in the wrong direction,â Matthew chuckles, sitting on the edge of the bed and handing you the mug, âYou know youâre fast right?â
âYeah,â You muse, smirking to yourself and taking a sip of coffee, âIâm sorry I did that to you, and stole your bed - I can go.â
Matthew stopped you, telling to finish your coffee and relax and heâd drive you home after. You fell into a comfortable conversation, something Matthew never thought would happen.
And watching you walk up to your steps in his shirt still wasnât something he thought heâd see, but it was better than he imagined.
***
âHey itâs Jamie, canât get to the phone right nowâŚâ
You groan, tossing your phone onto your bed and continuing your pace around the room. It was well after midnight, and your sister had been out all night, and past her curfew. Usually youâd cover for her, definitely taking the prize home for the cool older sister who picks her siblings and their friends up from parties. Thatâs what had you so worried. Sure, Jamie was a teenager and she snuck in a few little white lies with your parents just like youâd done, but Jamie always told you the truth. Sheâd check in with you more than her parents, letting you know that sheâs going to be out late but sheâs safe and if she needed anything she knew who to call. You texted sometime around ten, just checking in since it was Saturday and you were sure she had a more riveting social life than yourself. No answer. Then eleven rolled around and you didnât hear anything, so naturally you double texted and now itâs twelve thirty and you still havenât heard anything. You cross your arms, looking at your phone as if you could will an answer into existence. You grab it, dialing a number you werenât even sure would work.
âHello?â Matthewâs voice appeared on the other side of the line, clear confusion in his voice. You let out a sigh of relief, hoping Matthew would have the answer you wanted to hear so desperately.
âIs my sister at your house?â You ask, biting your lip and throwing on a pair of sweats so you could pick her up and murder her for scaring you like that. You were sure it was innocent, Jamie slept over at Tarynâs all the time, staying up way too late watching movies or when Jamie would hide going to a party from your much stricter parents.
Matthew tells you to give him a minute, and you can hear him walking through the house. By the time you heard a door open and a small fuck under his breath, your stomach dropped, âShe was supposed to be home by midnight.â
âAlright, thanks anyways,â You sigh, âDo you know where they might have gone? Itâs just, Jamie hasnât answered me in hours and she usually does even if sheâs out past curfew and Iâm just-â
âIâll be at your house in ten,â Matthew says, his keys alright in his hand and his foot halfway out the door. He was more mad than worried, sure his sister was out a party past curfew. Matthew was her biggest brother, and he was far more protective over her than Brady ever could be. He hated when she did this, and Matthew was pissed. You waited on your steps, Matthew car coming into view while you sprung up and practically sprinted into his car.
âYou look mad,â You observe, as if it wasnât completely obvious. You knew why, trying countless times to remind Taryn that her brother loves her and thatâs why heâs like that. You thought he could go a little easier on her, but you wouldnât dare get in the middle of that.
âI am mad,â Matthew grits out, knuckles white on his steering wheel while he drives slowly down the street. You just drove, in hopes youâd find what was obviously a house party and hopes your sisters were inside. You squint, hoping your eyes werenât fooling you.
âWait, pull over I think I see my neighbor,â You yell, Matthewâs foot flying on the break and you hop out. You were right, the bright orange tuft of hair you saw was like a miracle, âHey Henry have you seen my sister?â
âOh yeah I think sheâs still inside,â Henry points to the house behind him, music blasting and a party in full swing, âI think sheâs with Taryn.â
Matthew hops out of the car, grabbing your hand and pulling you into the house with him. Matthewâs fingers were laced with yours with every step he took, weaving through the crowd in hopes youâd see them. It took three bedrooms and a laundry room until you finally saw Taryn standing in the doorway. Her eyes went wide, and you pushed past them both to see Jamie with her head in the toilet. She was fine, well she was definitely in deep shit, but it wasnât the worst thing to stumble upon. You throw her hair up, your attention moving to Matthew yelling at his sister in the hallway.
âWhy didnât you call someone,â Matthew yells, trying so damn hard to not completely snap on his baby sister. Taryn yells that her phone had died and then Jamie got sick and she didnât know what to do. Of course they didnât. You were probably more sympathetic, and you knew just how pissed off Matthew could get. You get up, pushing Taryn back into the bathroom and telling her to watch your sister.
âCalm down before you talk to her, please,â You plead, grabbing Matthewâs shoulders, âBesides, I sort of need some help right now.â
There it was. The very moment Matthew realized all along you couldâve been helping him. Your hands were wrapped around his biceps, a finger gently rubbing the skin right under the sleeve of his shirt. Every bit of anger disappeared from his body, a calm feeling replacing it. He knew you were right, and heâd be thankful for it later. Matthew knew he had to do the right thing by you, and he nodded, willing to follow any directions you gave him.
Matthew carried Jamie out of the house, getting both of your sisters in the car and finally heading back to your house. You knew he was still pissed off, a present frown on his face so you just took the chance. Just like heâd done before for you, you grabbed one of his hands from his steering wheel, lacing your fingers together. You caught the smile on his face, your thumb rubbing over his hand while his shoulders seemed to just relax. Once
Matthew finally helped you get Jamie inside, a night of laying on her floor to make sure she was okay ahead of you stood in the doorway with Matthew across from you.
âThank you, I know weâre working on this friendship thing but you really didnât have to do that,â You were eternally grateful, wrapping your arms around Matthewâs waist and tucking your head into his chest.
âYouâd do the same thing for Taryn,â Matthew hums, knowing full well he definitely owed you for being Tarynâs replacement sibling with him and Brady in Canada for most of the year, âGet some rest okay?â
âWait,â You stop Matthew, grabbing his hand one more time, âDonât kill your sister, please sheâs just a kid-â
âYouâre way too easy on them,â Matthew chuckles, shaking his head at you. He knew Taryn was probably scared, and after he calmed a bit he understood where you were coming from. That didnât mean he wasnât going to tell her that if she ever pulls that shit again - he was going to rat her out to their parents.
And when Matthew finally got back in the car, he could see his sisterâs grin in the backseat, âDonât say it.â
She held your hand, are you sure youâre not going to malfunction now?
***
Maybe you were spiraling.
Youâd been waiting for this moment your entire life, now you had a few more weeks until camp started and you were afraid. You knew you were good enough, you had to be. But what if you werenât? You could feel the anxiety settling in, a feeling you hadnât felt since Matthew told you soccer wasnât a real sport in fourth grace. Itâd been eating at you for weeks, deteriorating any confidence you had left in yourself. So you started pushing yourself even harder. The harder you worked the less like you were to fuck it all up. Your muscles were sore, your body was tired and it was just all becoming too much.
And Matthew noticed.
You were pushing yourself too hard, even the time you were supposed to relax with your families before your seasons started was being spent training. He understood it, the term first round exit lived rent free in his head every single time his skate hit the ice over the summer, but that didnât make it okay. You looked tired, sluggish while you moved because you were running twice a day and training in between. And he was pissed everyone seemed to be fine with it. You should start working harder then Matthew. If it bothers you so much maybe you could join her. It wasnât that he was jealous of your work ethic, he was worried. Matthewâs eyes followed you as you ran past his house again. The third time in one day, heâd finally decided he had enough.
Matthew took the walk to your house, charming the pants off your mother for her to tell him you were upstairs because you just got back in. He knocks twice, hearing a come in from the other side.
âWhat are you doing here?â You question, rolling one of your ankles that just seemed to be getting more swollen every time you started to practice. Matthew noticed it, your hands freezing one you caught his gaze.
âYouâre overworking yourself,â Matthew stands his ground, he knew you could have told him to fuck off because no one hates advice they didnât ask for quite like him, âDonât tell me Iâm wrong.â
âThatâs rich coming from the kid whoâs played with more broken bones than anyone I know,â You remind him of a few mistakes Matthewâs made playing through injuries he really shouldnât, âIâm not fucking frail.â
âThatâs not what this is about,â Matthew scoffs, it never once crossed his mind that he thought he was tough enough to play through injuries but you werenât, âItâs about taking a break so you donât get hurt.â
âIâm fine,â You huff, getting up and trying your best to hide the pain in your ankle when you stood on it. You fell forward, Matthew catching you in his arms and putting you back down the edge of your bed.
âTell me whatâs wrong?â Matthew asks with soft eyes, he bent down to take your ankle in his hand and inspect it the best he could. It was swelling, probably from the amount of pressure youâd been putting on your body with no breaks.
âWhat if I never score a goal?â You whisper, teary eyes finally meeting Matthewâs. His brows shot up, alarmed at how one of the best athletes heâs ever seen could feel the same way he felt right before his first NHL game. Matthew sits down next to you, hand on your thigh while you let out a cry, âWhat if Iâm just a bust? Like I get there and nothing works and I suck.â
âYouâll score eventually,â Matthew scoffs, understanding how ridiculous you sounded but just how you felt at the same time, âEveryone does.â
âYou scored like four games into your fucking career Matt,â You remind him, Matthew smiling a bit that you knew that to begin with. It would have been impossible not to know, or pretend like you didnât keep a few tabs on his career. Matthew Tkachuk was a legend in the making, and whether or not you could feel butterflies in your stomach every time he dropped the gloves was a secret youâd take to the grave.
âI got suspended my first season too,â Matthew jokes, a teary eyed laugh escaping your lips, âIâd put down money you score in your first game.â
âWell good thing you have money to lose,â You sigh dramatically, the fear of fucking up still on your mind.
âYouâll find your groove, all legends do,â Matthew promises, throwing his arm around your shoulders. You snuggled into his side, a realization that he was becoming a comforting presence in your life with each passing day, âAnd if you donât, you can always hide out in Canada with me.â
âMatty!â The same silly nickname Matthew introduced himself to you on your very first day of kindergarten slipped through your lips without realizing it. Matthew hadnât been called that in ages, but it was welcome from you. You push his chest, âThatâs not making me feel any better.â
âWhat if I told you the only reason I was so mean to you was because I was intimidated by how talented you were?â Matthew confesses, scratching your head with his fingers, âIf I win a cup one day I think I owe you one.â
Matthew didnât mention that in his wildest fantasies of raising that cup over his head, you were there. Heâd owe you one and he hoped it was because you were there for him until he got there. Matthew saw it the same way every time, youâd tell him to go see his parents first but heâd fly right past them to get to you - the person who accidentally pushed him to be his best. He had plenty of daydreams about you winning too, remembering times you used to brag youâd go to the Olympics one day, and he hoped you were right. He wanted to see you succeed, more than anything, and he thought it would work.
âLegally you have to let me drink out of it,â You muse, shutting your eyes and letting yourself just rest against Matthew.
âIt has to be Bud Light,â Matthew teases while watching you fake a gag. You grab his outstretched hand, letting him pull you up. His hands rested on the side of your face, eyes flickering to your lips for just a second. He wanted to kiss you, but he knew he had to wait. Wait for you to be ready. Wait for you to settle down. Or even just wait until he thought he had a real shot at forever.
Forever with you.
***
Matthew was kind of pissed off.
The press didnât bother him, none of that mattered and at the end of the day Matthew was able to sleep at night knowing he was a good teammate and a decent person most of the time. This one got him though, some writer criticizing the A on his jersey, and how someone who plays like he does didnât deserve a letter.
A letter he earned.
You could tell something was off, the way Matthew had been running alongside you was aggressive to say the least. He insisted he came with you, something about forcing you to take breaks. He was being your friend, even though your sisters seemed to disagree. Tarynâs words were replaying in your head, Matt doesnât even care if I get hurt. That didnât mean anything, those two had no idea what love was and Matthew caring about you a little bit didnât mean he loved you. Besides, the way he was acting right now told a completely different story.
âAre you mad at me?â You finally slow down, sitting on a rock that was next to the hiking trail you were on.
âNo?â Matthew stops dead in his tracks, his heart sinking to the pit of his stomach that he fucked this up too, âIâm fine, donât worry about it.â
âNo, tell me whatâs wrong,â You push, crossing your arms and narrowing your eyes at Matthew. You could tell he was pressed about something, his neck covered in a red flush the same way it used to.
âSome stupid article about my letter, donât worry about it,â Matthew grits, repeating his words again. His defense was up, even after you confessed to him that you were scared of not being enough.
âGet the fuck out of here with the tough guy act Matthew,â You challenge him, poking him right in the chest, âIf weâre going to be friends you need to cut that shit out.â
âYou really want to hear it?â Matthew barks back, fully yelling at you, âIâm tired of people thinking I donât deserve things because I threw a few bad hits. Do you know how it feels to have everyone think youâre shitty? No you donât, because youâre so fucking perfect that my own parents like you more than me.â
You stood there, silent while you tried to figure out how to tell him that simply wasnât true. His entire body was shaking, the anger coursing through his veins like youâd seen many times before that. Matthew looked like he did the first time you hit a homerun in gym class, except this time it was because that same pressure never got released. You couldnât come close to understanding the way he probably felt. You didnât have the comparables in your own family, the constant reminders of Bradyâs points tally compared to his, let alone the career his father had.
âMatty,â You whisper, grabbing his hand and running your fingers over the scars on his knuckles, âWhy is this bothering you so much?â
You were sure this wasnât the first time someoneâs said he was a pest, and it sure as hell wasnât going to be the last. Matthew sighed, the better part of his brain screaming at him to stop before he lost you too.
âIâve felt like this forever,â Matthew whispers, eyes fixated on your hand in his, âFrom the moment I started getting bigger, thereâs just been this pressure to play a certain way and act a certain way. I was a fucking kid, and while all of my friends got to go wherever they wanted all I ever did was practice. Then I finally get to where I wanted and Iâm still getting shit on.â
âExcept no one thinks you donât deserve to be where you are,â You whisper, quiet words as if you were going to startle him, âAnd I know it doesnât make up for things people say, but the people who love you think you deserve it.â
Matthew nods, pulling you into his arms and holding you close. Your arms wrapped around his waist, his words mumbled against your forehead, âI needed that.â
âI know,â You nod, smiling wide up at him, âAnd we need to practice more because youâre too slow, soooo catch me if you can!â
You slipped out of his arms, running away with a giggle and a smile. Matthew stopped for a second, his Neanderthal brain checking out your ass while you jogged away and his more logical one trying to process what just happened.
But what mattered most was that whatever you did worked and that meant something to Matthew.
***
Just admit you think heâs hot.
You wanted to kill your sister for making this weekend harder than it had to be. You were doing a good job at just friends with Matthew until Jamie was curled up in your bed while you packed for a lake trip with your friends. She pushed it for hours, rambling on about Matthew is actually your type and Taryn swears heâd be a good boyfriend if someone just understood him. The problem was, you were starting to see her point. Matthew had a glow up a few years ago, like one summer heâd gotten home and you were infatuated with him. It used to annoy you, because heâd been such an ass to you that you hated how attractive he was. Then things changed, and now looking at him was just frustrating you. You were terrified about the way he made you feel, like everything would be okay with one look of those blue eyes and a smirk. You felt like he had your back, a vast change from how you used to feel and it was just getting hard to hide it anymore.
Especially when Matthew looked like he did right now. He was holding himself up on the dock, shoulders broad and glistening in the moonlight above you. All your friends were inside, moving their party away from the water as the night lingered on. You wanted to run your fingers through his wet curls, the temptation was almost too much.
âIâll be in Chicago a few times you know,â Matthew hums, enjoying the time alone he was getting with you. Anytime without Brady teasing him about what the Tkachukâs had been referring to as the hand holding incident. He didnât want them to think he didnât want you, because he did, but he just needed to move at his own pace.
âYou want to come see me play?â You ask, leaning back on the palms of your hands. You were surprised by the kind of man Matthew had become, it was a completely different person that he used to be. He cared so much about his loved ones, and you were starting to feel like maybe you had a place there.
âActually thinking you could come see me play,â Matthew teases, sarcasm dripping from his words. You lifted your foot up, kicking some of the water below you to splash him, but heâd caught your ankle before you could. He stopped for a moment, running a thumb over your skin, âThis looks better.â
âDonât make you admit you were right,â You whine, Matthew swiftly pulling you into the water with him. You yelp, the water way too cold for any normal person, âItâs freezing.â
âCâmere then,â Matthew grabs your waist, pulling your body against his. His hands were splayed across your back, heat radiating off of them. One of your hands was on his shoulder, your other on his chest. You could feel his heart beating quickly, his eyes locked on yours, âMiddle school Matthew would be so jealous of me right now.â
âWhyâs that?â You hum, running your fingers along Matthew to play connect the dots with the beauty marks on his skin.
âBecause he had the biggest crush on you,â Matthew confesses, his grip on you a little tighter, as if he was afraid youâd slip right through his fingers again, âBut he was too thick headed to do anything about it.â
âWhat about grown up Matthew?â You ask, biting your lip. Matthew was practically holding you both up in the water, pressed so close together you could hear the hitch in his breath at your question, âIs he too thick headed to do something too?â
You wrapped your legs around Matthewâs waist, pressing your lips to his and tugging on the curls at the base of his neck. He pushed you up against the dock, helping you back up and pulling himself up next to you. You grabbed the back of his neck, latching your lips back on his. His hand was on your back, fingers toying with the back of your bathing suit, âThink we can get upstairs without anyone noticing?â
Matthew was cool most of the time. He never faltered under the pressure from his career, most of the time, and he definitely didnât fold when it came to a pretty girl. You had him in the palm of your hand, every part of his brain malfunctioning in response to your words. You bit your lip, wondering if youâd read this entire situation. Matthew rubs a thumb along your lip, âWhen are you going to realize Iâd do whatever you asked me to?â
The two of you snuck up the stairs, giggles and stolen kisses left in your wake. You open the door, Matthewâs hands still toying your bathing suit top, âJust take it off already Matty.â
âDonât have to ask me twice,â Matthew breathes, his lips pressed against your neck while the garment falls to the floor, âSo fucking beautiful.â
You back hit the mattress, Matthewâs hands running up your body slowly. Slow wasnât in Matthewâs vocabulary, but he was taking his time just in case he never got this opportunity again. His fingers hooked under your bathing suit bottoms, sliding the wet fabric down your legs. You looked so beautiful, spread out just for Matthew like heâd dreamed about numerous times. His lips moved down to your breasts, teeth grazing against your skin while his tongue swirled against your nipple. You let out a breathy moan, Matthewâs ego boosting from the sound. You plucked at his curls while his mouth moved down to where you were craving him most, a gentle kiss to your clit, âMatty, please.â
âI didnât peg you for the type to beg,â Matthew hums, pressing feather light kisses around your core. He stopped, gripping your thighs and looking up at you, âYou sure about this?â
âYes, please,â You whine, pussy dripping from Matthewâs hot breath fanning over it. Matthew chuckles darkly, fingers digging into your thighs when he flicked his tongue over your clit. You moan, completely unbothered by the blaring music a floor below you. Matthew didnât seem to be bothered either, his tongue teasing your entrance while his nose rubbed against your clit, living for the way you were whimpering above him, âMatty-â
âClose baby?â Matthew groans, slipping a finger inside of you and curling it. You back arched, his name falling through your lips was enough to answer his question. Your legs shook, pleasure washing over your body from Matthew and all of it just felt so right. Matthewâs lips were latched to your skin until he finally met your eyes again. He smiles softly, nudging his nose with yours while you caught your breath, âSo good for me.â
âShouldâve known you were that good with your mouth with the way you run it,â You tease smiling against his lips.
âNot with you, not anymore,â Matthew promises, soft blue eyes looking into yours, he meant it. He didnât know how else to make it clearer, he wanted you. You kissed him slowly, hands trailing down his abs and stopping where his shorts hit his waist. Matthew kicks off his swim trunks, cock springing free. You grab the back of his neck, pulling your lips to his and rolling over top of him and straddling his waist. It was criminal how good you looked on top of him, âGonna ride me babe?â
You nod, lining his dick up your core and lowering yourself on top of him. You let out a whine, Matthewâs smug smile on full display once he realized it was because of how big he was, âWe donât have to if my dickâs too big.â
âOh shut up,â You roll your hips, watching the way Matthewâs head fell back, smirking because he really thought he had control here. Matthewâs hands gripped your waist, moving your hips faster. His finger flicked over your clit, causing you to lunge forward on top of him. Matthew flipped you over, wrapping a leg around his waist so he could hit your g-spot. Your hands gripped his shoulders, nails leaving scratches Matthew was going to wear pride later. You were seeing stars, noises leaving your throat youâd never even heard yourself make, âFuck, Matty, Iâm gonna cum again.â
âLook at me,â Matthew grabs your chin, pressing his forehead against yours and watching while your eyes roll back with pleasure. Your pussy clenched around him, his own cum spilling into you from the sensation, a loud groan following. Matthew pressed a kiss to your forehead, his cock still buried inside of you, âI wasnât bullshitting you, I mean every word Y/N.â
âMatthew,â You whisper, running a finger along his back, âThe distanceâŚâ
You didnât mention everything, the way that if this was real it meant it would end up ripping you both apart. You were set to live in a different city, Matthew all the way in another country. The way your dreams included a spot on the U.S. National team, and the idea that wanting to be with Matthew would hold you back was terrifying. The way his dreams probably meant staying in Calgary forever, a C on his jersey and a cup over his head. It wasnât going to be easy, you werenât ever going to be the doting girlfriend he probably needed. There would be years of travel schedules and games that overlapped, and a part of you thought that maybe Matthew wouldnât be able to do it. Youâd get a year in and heâd find someone who would be there more and finally youâd end it.
âWe can make it work, baby I want you, I always have and I probably always will,â Matthew starts, baring his soul to another person for the first time in his goddamn life, âI want to support your dreams and have you be there for mine. Iâm all in here, I donât know how else to tell you.â
âCan I have some time?â You plead, holding onto Matthewâs shoulders because you knew he could leave and tell you to never speak to him again. Matthew sighs, understanding the way you were shitting yourself about starting your own professional career, remembering the way rookie Matthew would have died before he considered settling down that first year, âPlease donât leave me-â
âIâm not going anywhere,â Matthew promises, rolling over and letting your rest on his chest, âIâll wait for you.â
You smile, snuggling closer to him. Matthew didnât sleep a minute that night, running every single scenario that could possibly happen with the two of you. Matthew was sure it would work out, it had to, because if it didnât he wasnât sure heâd be able to recover.
So now all he could was wait.
***
You know this is creepy right?
Matthew stares at Sam, punching his teammate in the arm lightly and telling him to shut up. He had a night off in Chicago, and after four straight hours of staring at your contact in his phone, Matthew finally just bought the tickets. Heâd been good at keeping his distance, you needed space and he respected you enough to try and give it to you. He wasnât doing so hot, Matthew consuming more soccer games than hockey games at this point. It started with your first game, because how was he supposed to just pretend like it wasnât happening? You scored too, and it took everything in his power not to call you to tell you that not only was he right, he was insanely proud of you.
And heâd been hearing it from everyone. Your sister thought it was bullshit, Taryn and Jamie almost had Matthew on a flight to Chicago ready to show up like a terrible Lifetime movie. Brady thought it was hilarious the way Matthew was simping like this for one girl. Now, his teammates were on him, wondering why on Earth their friend who historically ran through women faster than he did mouthguards could be this hung up on someone he had a crush on in middle school.
âWhat number is she?â Sam asks, sipping the beer he forced Matthew to buy after making him go along with this.
âNineteen,â Matthew smiles, pointing down at you on the field. You looked so happy, warming up with one of your teammates and a bright smile on your face. It seemed like a good fit, your team and your new city, and it made Matthewâs heart grow four sizes.
âDid she choose your number?â Sam jokes and Matthew mumbles something under his breath, âWhat?â
âIt was her number first,â Matthew admits, not wanting to ever confess to another soul that you crossed his mind when he kept that camp number. Sam howled next to him, leaning over his seat and cracking up at his teammate.
You looked out in the crowd about halfway through the game, rubbing your eyes to make sure you werenât seeing things. That tuft of curls was hard to miss, not to mention you knew just how big Matthew was. He was far too into the game to realize you caught him, up in arms about a call against your team that was valid but heâd argue it wasnât. You asked for space, and it was getting harder to stick to your guns. Especially when he was making it so clear that he wanted this.
And whether or not you went to his game the next night, was a secret youâd take to the grave.
***
You were so close you could have tasted it.
While the final seconds of your season came to a close, all you could do was hold your head in your hands and hope no one caught the tears. A semi-final loss was devastating, but a semi-final loss where there wasnât anything you could have done differently was even worse. Every athlete had off nights, a point Keith pushed right before you left to start your season, and he was right. Unfortunately, that was this game. Your biggest fear had come true and there was nothing you could do about it now. The game was over and you werenât moving on.
And Matthew watched it.
Matthew promised you space, and he swore heâd give you the time you needed to settle down. But, this was something he couldnât ignore. He could tell you were off, your entire rookie season was almost perfect and watching the way you folded during this game was gut wrenching. Matthew knew better than anyone, losing sucked. So he took the chance, grabbing his phone and shooting you a text heâd been waiting to send.
Doors open in Calgary.
and Iâm so fucking proud of you.
It was the very last text you saw before you went to bed that night, tossing and turning for a few hours thinking about that loss. You couldnât stop, every bone in your body was aching and you didnât know what to do. So you bought a flight, packed your shit and was walking down the hallway to Matthewâs apartment without a second thought. Youâd left him on read, calling Brady in the middle of the night and asking for his address, who gave it to you reluctantly with a reminder that if you needed to see him this badly you should rethink the needing time thing.
Matthew let out a groan when he had a bang at his door at three in the morning. Noah definitely was trying to walk into the wrong apartment again, and Matthew was grouchy when he whipped his door open. Except it wasnât Noah after heâd had too many. It was you, teary eyed with your shit in a suitcase and a broken heart.
âI canât stop thinking about it,â You admit, whispering something you never thought youâd say to anyone, âI just didnât do enough-â
Matthew didnât say a word, pulling you into a bone crushing hug and holding you as tightly as he could. You didnât need to hear it from him, about how things were out of your control and you did your best. You didnât want that right now, you wanted him, âBabyâŚâ
âEverything hurts,â You whimper, finally just letting it all out. You were bruised and battered from the season, the physical pain alone was enough to upset you, let alone the loss you just took. Matthew carded his fingers through your hair, letting you soak his bare chest with your tears because he wouldnât have it any other way. You came back to him. You came back to him when things got too tough because you trusted him to bring you some peace, and he was happy about it.
You passed out sometime after that, your tears finally running dry and the exchaustion taking over your body. Matthew woke up early the next day, grateful for the optional morning skate so he could stay with you for just a little bit longer. The sun was just starting to peek through the curtains in his room, a calm snowy morning in Calgary so the city was just a bit quieter.Â
Matthew settled on breakfast, working away in his kitchen with the only thing he knew how to make. Tell her you made it, his momâs words from just a few months prior in his head while he cooked. You padded out his bedroom, one of Matthewâs god awful beer shirts hanging from your frame while you wrapped your arms around his waist and pressed a kiss into his back, âItâs cold here.â
âYouâll get used to it,â Matthew hums, internally pumping his fist when he felt your lips form a smile against his skin. You turned your head, pressing your cheek against his against and letting out a laugh, âWhatâs so funny?â
âYou framed my jersey?â You ask, your eye catching a jersey that was way too familiar. It was hung up beside Matthewâs from his first all star game, both number nineteens staring back at you.
âWhy wouldnât I? Youâre my favorite player,â Matthew hums, a blush covering his cheeks, âIâm so proud of you.â
âYou keep saying that,â Matthew finally turns around, pressing a quick peck to your lips.
âIâll keep saying it long after we both retire,â Matthew speaks, words clear and sure because heâs had plenty of time to practice this one, âIâll say it when you win a World Cup gold, Iâll say it when we have kids, Iâll say when you play at the Olympics. Iâm going to say it over and over again.â
âButâŚâ You trail off, all of those same demons youâd been fighting when it came to your whatever this was with Matthew, âWhat Iâm not around enough for you?â
Matthew knew what you were thinking about, heâd thought about it plenty too. There were countless sleepless nights where all he did was wonder if youâd find someone in Chicago who could support you better than he could. Heâd do his best, he swore he would, but in order for you to be happy, your passion came first. There was always going to be times when he couldnât be there and it killed him.
âYouâre more than enough,â Matthew promises, his lips ghosting over yours, âI want you to seize every opportunity in the world, I just want to be there to tell you that I love you and use the goat emoji on Instagram when you do.â
You let out a laugh, Matthewâs smile wide enough to see his dimples you loved so much, âI think I want to stay a little while.â
âI think you should,â Matthew agrees, capturing your lips in his, âBesides Iâm playing tonight and I think I need to show off now.â
âYouâre a cocky asshole.â
âBut now Iâm your cocky asshole.â
***
One year Later
You had a good reason to be late.
You swore Matthew couldnât possibly be mad at you for this one. Youâd missed your flight to Calgary, a few days post a second loss in the semi finals that youâd been taking much better this time around. Mainly because Matthew wasnât there, but his stupid smile and words of encouragement where there on facetime hours later. That wasnât the reason you were late, the reason you were late was because youâd received the most insane news of your life and it was an important phone or that flight. Youâd caught the next one, legs shaking not to just call him and share the news, but you needed to tell him in person.
Youâd finally gotten by the doors to the locker room entrance, out of breath from spriting there from your cab. There was Matthew, tapping his phone and staring at the clock on his phone with furrowed eyebrows. He was still in his suit, tie pulled a little looser, a nervous habit you realized he had some time ago, âMatty-â
âDonât call me that just because you know youâre late,â Matthew huffs, already ready for the pout that would have followed so heâd forget all about the fact that you promised youâd make it on time. He holds his hand out, waiting for the handshake he made up in the car on the way to the first game you went to after he finally locked it down. You laugh, slapping your hand against his and letting him pull you closer for a kiss.
âThey want me on the National Team,â You mumble against his lips, the words spilling out of your mouth when you pull away with an excited smile. Matthew stood there stunned, while you shuffled your feet in the little dance you did when you were really happy. He grabs your cheeks, pressing kisses to your lips again and again.
âWeâre celebrating after this, holy shit,â Matthew cheers, still stunned by your news, âI love you so much.â
âI love you too, now go score a few goals so we have even more to celebrate,â You kiss him one more time, pushing him before the door before he was late.
��Anything I do seems unimportant now!â Matthew calls out, a light laugh to his voice as he watched you walk away to go sit in the stands.
And thatâs how Matthew thought it should be.
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not gonna lie I would love to hear more about the drama and infighting that went on in The Vampire Diaries fandom if you have the time (and also want to use that time to give your experience with the fandom, which from the snippets you've told sounds Not Fun so I get it if you don't want to lol)
oh god, there was like, SO MUCH, i just
i really feel like tvd is one of those fandoms that is so hard to describe without a lot of âyouâd have to have been thereâ, but it really felt like this huge and all-consuming beast for about five years until the show finally imploded and the fandom basically turned on it en masse. (you ever see that post going around thatâs like âif you ever want to know what true regret feels like, ask someone who once called tvd their favorite showâ? still a mood, all these years later. basically the entire fandom thought the show should have just bowed out with whatever shreds of dignity it had left at the end of season 6, and became more of a hatedom than a fandom for the last two seasons. when you have an entire fandom cheering news of your showâs cancellation, i think thatâs a sign you done fucked up, julie.)
first and most infamous, of course, are the ship wars. which are pretty much inevitable in any teen-centered drama, and i really think the CW fucking thrives on them, but it was particularly egregious in TVDâs case because not only was the base premise of the show a love triangle, but the two main romantic leads were brothers that the show constantly pit against one another--in pursuit of elenaâs affections, but also because it kept up this insistence on the âgood brother/bad brotherâ dichotomy which stopped making sense after about season 2 (by which time we have found out that the good brother was never as good as he appeared, and the bad brother has been growing and isnât nearly as bad as he pretends to be)--and the question of which brother âdeservedâ elena (and no, what elena wanted very rarely factored into these discussions, especially in the team stefan camp because they turned on her when what she wanted was no longer The Good Brother, but iâll get to that in a bit) was hotly contested.
iâm not kidding when i say the shipping wars were vicious. i started watching tvd shortly after it began to air, which was late 2009, and kept up with it fairly sporadically over the years. i didnât come onto tumblr until 2011/2012, and by then, the fandom was already pretty much a garbagefire. there were anti ship and anti character blogs, any time something bad happened for one ship the rival ship would invade the tags to gloat about it (seasons 3 and 4 were especially rough, and iâm not gonna pretend delena fans werenât just as bad about tag invasion and shit, but as that was my side of the road i saw a lot more of the stelena shippers being assholes, which soured my opinion on the ship a long time before i started rewatching and realized the red flags were there from the start), confessions blogs were popular also toxic as fuck (so much fighting happened in the notes of those posts, good gods), and this was right around when twitterâs popularity was on the rise and the line between Celebrity and Fan was thinning, so the fandom was absolutely atrocious to much of the tvd cast and crew.
(some of them deserved a lot of the later backlash, but in the early years a lot of it was âhow dare you write the story in a way i dont like, you terrible fucking personâ, and gods donât get me started on the dobsley vs nian Thing)
i think what really encapsulates my feelings on the tvd fandom as a whole, though, is the way they (to this DAY) treated elena gilbert, which can be summed up in one meme that gained a lot of traction around season 3 if i remember right: that gif of pam from true blood, with the text altered to read âiâm so OVER elena and her precious doppelganger vagina!â
i swear at one time i had over half the active tvd fan accounts on tumblr blocked, because i got to a point where i would no longer tolerate elena hate, and she was (and still is, in what remains of the fandom; youâll see a lot of âelena was one of the worst things about the showâ takes from ex-fans, too) one of the most widely despised characters in the entire fandom. because she -checks smudged writing on hand- was a traumatized teenage girl who -reads off a crumpled notecard- couldnât always perfectly sort out her own feelings and -squints at the ceiling- sometimes made mistakes or bad decisions. (except a lot of the fandom also insisted that she was a mary sue who had no character traits or flaws or faults and it was like....make up your fucking minds???? is she a calculating conniving bitch whose somehow manipulating these centuries old vampires to tie them around her little finger or is she a boring flat character with no depth and no flaws??? jfc)
there was this massive double standard, too--like, stefan and damon could fuck whoever they wanted and that was fine, but elena was constantly raked over the coals for the crime of developing romantic feelings for the two men who had become constants in her life and whom she cared for deeply, and oh my GOD the slut shaming that happened when elena slept with damon was fucking wild. (and also happened in canon lmfao. like the show had one of elenaâs best friends basically call her diseased on screen for falling in love with someone other than stefan. it was gross and ridiculous and the friend in question was also being a giant hypocrite at the time since she was happily flirting with someone who was directly responsible for the deaths of like four of elenaâs loved ones and her own boyfriendâs mother but thatâs beside the point) but like elena was called a slut and a bitch and a whore for âcheatingâ on stefan (she hadnât, and she had in fact broken up with him on screen the episode earlier) and âimmediatelyâ jumping into bed with damon, even though none of them said fucking boo when stefan had one night stands or damon had fuckbuddies or whatever.
shit, caroline didnât get any of this treatment when she started falling for tyler while dating matt! which isnât to say i think she should have, just that i think itâs fucking ridiculous that elena was absolutely demonized by the fandom for daring to have feelings for two guys at once and eventually acting on them--despite the fact that the entire premise of the show was a love triangle. itâs not a love triangle if both sides donât eventually get explored, and the crew had been pretty explicit about the fact that delena was going to happen at some point--but when it did, a huge chunk of the fandom absolutely threw a fit.
and a lot of these elena haters were alleged stelena stans, and i say alleged because they hated her so much for not wanting stefanâs dick anymore that it was clear they were really stefan stans and only wanted stelena to be endgame because they wanted stefan to âwinâ at the end of the day, because âheâs the good brotherâ so he deserved elena more.
it was all very gross and very misogynistic and very sex shaming (apparently delena was a âshallowâ and âsuperficialâ relationship because they had sex after two years of unrequited feelings slowly becoming requited and then pining for ages on both sides, and because they had a lot of on screen chemistry that the show capitalized on for years so of course they did a lot of making out and shit but itâs not like stelena didnât have its fair share of making out and sex scenes, stefan was just too much of a coward to let elena top iâd apologize for that joke but iâm really not sorry because itâs true), and when i say it was egged on by the crew, thatâs because they refused to let the love triangle die back in season 4 when it should have.
they insisted on stringing stelena fans along, dropping little bread crumbs to keep them invested, like dreams of a future where they were married and revealing that stefan was also a doppelganger and he and elena were descended from a pair of star-crossed lovers (a plot that ultimately went nowhere, to no oneâs great surprise), and then fucking like. julie plec turned around and threw nina under the bus after she chose not to extend her contract and pretended that stelena might have happened again if she hadnât left the show, which....i mean frankly i wouldnât put it past her, but it would have been shitty writing. then again, she thought having a vampire pregnancy where a uterus was magically transplanted from a witch into a vampire that could somehow......carry the babies to term.... made sense and was a good way to accomodate candiceâs RL pregnancy rather than like literally ANYTHING else, soooooo. but anyway julie saying that around like, end of s6 sparked off a new wave of nina hate and elena hate and ship wars bc they SEers took it as âconfirmationâ that stelena was REALLY meant to be endgame and it was all just a hot fucking mess
another thing is that, while tvd was in its prime before the anti/purity culture shit started picking up any real steam, there was still this pervasive attitude throughout the fandom that if you liked Damon, you were A Bad Person. liking damon was apparently grounds for insults and harassment, and apparently he was The Worst Person on the Show even though literally nothing he does on screen is any worse than shit we know stefan has done (and frankly every other vampire too, but i mention stefan specifically because he was always held up--in the show but especially in the fandom--as the Good Brother while damon was the Bad One, and if you liked damon more then that had to mean your morals were dodgy and you clearly couldnât appreciate what a heroic and saintly figure dear stefan was and....oops, iâm sorry, my salt keeps leaking -cough-).
meanwhile klaus quickly became a fandom darling despite not even really having much of a redemption arc (on tvd anyway, he just became more âaffably evilâ as the show went on and more inclined to work with the main characters rather than try to kill them; i have no idea what went on over on his show, though), and like i can 100% appreciate liking villains and not caring that they do dodgy villainous shit, even just liking them bc theyâre hot and wanting them to kiss a main character bc they have insanely good chemistry (yes i ship klaroline, no i wonât apologize for it, they could have been Really Great), itâs just really the double standard that gets me.
and all of this, incidentally, required ignoring some truly gross shit stefan was responsible for wrt his relationship with elena, that frankly it has always bothered me never really got addressed in the show. i get why elena herself would never be able to actually call him on it, but the fact is that he stalked her for months after he first saw her and thought she was katherine (meanwhile it only took damon .5 seconds to realize she was someone else entirely, but thatâs another topic entirely), and then he deliberately inserted himself into her life because, in his words, âi have to know herâ. he never gave a thought to how his presence in her life might affect her (or rather, he did, and tormented himself about it in his internal monologue, but never let this actually dissuade him from disrupting her life), and elena would wind up blaming herself for every tragedy that befell her friends and loved ones as a result of getting mixed up in vampire bullshit even though none of it was her fault--she literally blamed herself for existing but most of the fandom didnât give a fuck about that lmfao--and stefan did shit like find out that she was adopted and then withhold this information from her until she got pissed about another secret he was keeping (her resemblence to katherine) and drop it on her to try and distract her from her very reasonable anger, and like... i should stop before this becomes a whole rant about how much i hate stefan fucking salvatore, but the point is, he did a lot of really sketchy shit he never answered for and elena never really took him to task for, and the fandom just kept eating up his insistence that he was the Good Brother and therefore he deserved to have elena, and if she didnât want him anymore it was because she was a heinous bitch who didnât deserve him.
uh.....i think i got off track there. and thereâs probably a lot of shit i missed, like i think i was incandescent with rage for most of seasons 5 and 6 so i missed a lot of the interfandom shit cause i was too busy being increasingly pissed off at the show itself, but if nothing else this should give you an idea of how much of a goddamn cesspit the fandom was while the show as in its prime. thereâs a reason both the show and the fandom have such a lousy reputation lmfao.
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Why in ADWD Jon dreams of killing Robb and ygritte? He also once beat one NW brother in rage when he remember the memory of Robb saying he won't get lord of WF as he is bastard. Do you think his guilt made him dream of these nightmares and future foreshadowing for kingslaying? Like ygritte represent his violent lover and Robb represent his kin. Or it means something else?
Hi anon!
I think in this dream and how it is echoed in other parts of the books, we see Jonâs inner struggle with his role as Lord Commander immediately before his biggest political act ever: inviting the enemy to cross over into safety.
And it is the enemy. And Jon is struggling. In the violence of the dream, and in how it contrasts with Dany, and in the decision they both make in its aftermath, we see their true selves revealed and get a glimpse of what this means for them as enemies eventually.
Jonâs nightmare opens ADWD Jon XII, right before he wakes up to The Big Day, the most massive breach of protocol by a Lord Commander in living memory. Heâs letting thousands of wildlings past the Wall. The very thing he had fought a vicious battle to prevent, because he knew it comes with massive risks.
Lots of quotes ahead:
That night he dreamt of wildlings howling from the woods, advancing to the moan of warhorns and the roll of drums. Boom DOOM boom DOOM boom DOOM came the sound, a thousand hearts with a single beat. Some had spears and some had bows and some had axes. Others rode on chariots made of bones, drawn by teams of dogs as big as ponies. Giants lumbered amongst them, forty feet tall, with mauls the size of oak trees.
The boom DOOM boom DOOM theme is present in the Red Wedding in Catelyn VII and with Theon in A Ghost in Winterfell, moments of intense transformation. Catelyn turns into a wrathful weirdwood image and murders and innocent in her failed attempt to sway Walder Frey to spare Robb. A dark promise kept, and then she dies in despair, only to rise again as Lady Stoneheart three days later. But that will not be the end of her story.
Theon has become Reek, and longs for the sweet deliverance of death in the face of Stannisâ siege. He âgave the girl away, he played his partâ, he may have earned death as a reward now. But he is drawn to the godswood, where Branâs voice calls his true name. And there he is found by Rowan, who insists on one last service. It it the act that will lead him back to himself. To Theon.
Jon's dream places him back in the battle at the Wall, holding it against Manceâs assault. But unlike then, he is alone, his battle is as lonely as it is intense.
âStand fast,â Jon Snow called. âThrow them back.â He stood atop the Wall, alone. âFlame,â he cried, âfeed them flame,â but there was no one to pay heed.
They are all gone. They have abandoned me.
Burning shafts hissed upward, trailing tongues of fire. Scarecrow brothers tumbled down, black cloaks ablaze. âSnow,â an eagle cried, as foemen scuttled up the ice like spiders. Jon was armored in black ice, but his blade burned red in his fist. As the dead men reached the top of the Wall he sent them down to die again. He slew a greybeard and a beardless boy, a giant, a gaunt man with filed teeth, a girl with thick red hair. Too late he recognized Ygritte. She was gone as quick as sheâd appeared.
This part of the dream mirrors Danyâs nightmare before her own fateful decision to âfreeâ the unsullied with dragonfire.
That night she dreamt that she was Rhaegar, riding to the Trident. But she was mounted on a dragon, not a horse. When she saw the Usurper's rebel host across the river they were armored all in ice, but she bathed them in dragonfire and they melted away like dew and turned the Trident into a torrent. Some small part of her knew that she was dreaming, but another part exulted. This is how it was meant to be. The other was a nightmare, and I have only now awakened. (ASOS, Daenerys III)
Waking the dragon, indeed. Unlike Jon, Danyâs experience of the dream is an experience of satisfaction and empowerment for her. Her enemies are slain by distance weapon, they have no faces, the melt away by the power of dragonfire. It appears these two may be facing off - the tongues of fire attacking the black ice.
Unlike Dany, Jon uses his sword, and he sees every face, names those he knows. He had considered killing Ygritte in battle, and he does it here, in battle between wildlings and Nightâs Watch.
The world dissolved into a red mist. Jon stabbed and slashed and cut. He hacked down Donal Noye and gutted Deaf Dick Follard. Qhorin Halfhand stumbled to his knees, trying in vain to staunch the flow of blood from his neck.
Same with these men, Qhorin in the Frost Fangs, the other two during the same attack that saw Ygritte die. But these are his brothers in arms now. The fight turns to them. A red mist. Then it is his true brother facing him.
âI am the Lord of Winterfell,â Jon screamed. It was Robb before him now, his hair wet with melting snow. Longclaw took his head off. Then a gnarled hand seized Jon roughly by the shoulder. He whirled âŚ
Just like Jon couldnât kill Ygritte in life and rejected Stannisâ offer, he is doing the opposite here, his darkest emotions bubbling up in a red wrath - but unlike Dany, itâs clear the experience is not euphoric. He is wrestling alone, with his enemies, his brothers, his entire self.
He has been trying to save lives, but it isolates him, he is battling alone, unable to trust anyone, sending his friends away, hacking away at his own soul by not being able to help Arya. Betraying everyone, the wildlings (Ygritte), the Nightâs Watch (his black brothers), his family and the North (Robb), and it is chaotic and endless. A red mist, a carnage.
But he is interrupted.
⌠and woke with a raven pecking at his chest. âSnow,â the bird cried. Jon swatted at it. The raven shrieked its displeasure and flapped up to a bedpost to glare down balefully at him through the predawn gloom.
Snow, the magic word that made the decision for him the last time, does it again. Unlike Dany embracing the dragon, Jon has an exit route: Snow. His true self is not inside the dream. Just like Theonâs true self is not in serving the Boltons, just like the tree calls to Theon, the raven calls to Jon. Snow. During the hour of the wolf, for both. He wakes and the nightmare fades. His path is before him. It is not battle. It is far more complex. Dangerous but life-giving.
The hard decision he has come to make, the transformation, is very different from Danyâs decision. She makes a false trade and burns her enemies, has them slaughtered in the streets, including children age 12 and up. Jon is about to embrace his enemies because they have a common foe. Peace after war.
The day had come. It was the hour of the wolf. Soon enough the sun would rise, and four thousand wildlings would come pouring through the Wall. Madness. Jon Snow ran his burned hand through his hair and wondered once again what he was doing. Once the gate was opened there would be no turning back. It should have been the Old Bear to treat with Tormund. It should have been Jaremy Rykker or Qhorin Halfhand or Denys Mallister or some other seasoned man. It should have been my uncle. It was too late for such misgivings, though. Every choice had its risks, every choice its consequences. He would play the game to its conclusion.
This decision is massive and Jon is trembling before it. âMadness.â He is making a trade that is fragile but honest. With the people he had battled. His enemies. But the time for war between them is done. If Jon doesnât want to see the world end in ice, if he wants to protect the North and all that he loves, he has to break with tradition - and have faith.
âAll is in readiness,â Bowen Marsh assured him. âIf the wildlings uphold the terms of the bargain, all will go as youâve commanded.â
And if not, it may turn to blood and carnage. âRemember,â Jon said, âTormundâs people are hungry, cold, and fearful. Some of them hate us as much as some of you hate them. We are dancing on rotten ice here, them and us. One crack, and we all drown. If blood should be shed today, it had best not be one of us who strikes the first blow, or I swear by the old gods and the new that I will have the head of the man who strikes it.â
*
Jonâs gamble will end up costing his life at the very hands of Bowen Marsh, but it remains the right decision. It will cost him, it will not make him more powerful in the short term. But it will pay off in the long term. It reveals who he is.
Dany emerged from betrayal transformed into a dragon. Jonâs transformation is still coming up. He will be a wolf for a while, but his path is not Danyâs path.
We see their true selves in this. For Jon, the battle is a nightmare he can wake from because he is not ice nor fire nor fully a wolf. He is Snow. His own person. Someone is calling his name. Like Bran calls Theon and helps him return to himself. Like Arya will call Catelyn by her true name: mother.
For Dany, the battle is her true self, and there will be no turning back. Who is calling Dany? Quaithe. Dragon dragon dragon.
When they face off, this will be crucial. It will be carnage. But one of them will emerge, and the other will not.
#asoiaf#jon snow#wildlings#anti daenerys targaryen#black ice#dragonfire#nightmares#foreshadowing#parallels
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8 letters | knj (m)
summary- If all it is is eight letters. Why is it so hard to say? If all it is is eight letters, why am I in my own way? Why do I pull you close and then ask you for space? If all it is is eight letters, why is it so hard to say?
8 letters - why don't we
or, emotionally constipated Namjoon is too scared to admit he's in love with you.
rating- explicit 18+
word count- 6071
pairing- namjoon x reader
genre- fluff, smut, angst
Warnings: mentions of jimin x reader, daddy kink, rough sex, edging, jealous Namjoon
a/n: thanks again to @sweetnspicy93â for beta reading and helping me bounce ideas back and forth. Love you <3
Find Jiminâs happy ending here (both stories can be read alone.)
Namjoon typically thought of himself as a pretty intelligent man. He was clumsy, but he was competent. He could solve an equation in his head in under a minute, Â heâd learned English on his own. He could read a novel in a few hours, and constantly sought out new knowledge. Namjoon was book smart. When it came to love though, Namjoon felt like an idiot.
He wasnât in denial or anything, he was aware of how he felt and he could name it. Itâs not like Namjoon didnât know he was in love with you, he just couldnât bring himself to tell you. He wanted to, god he wanted to. He wanted to tell you everything and pull you into his arms and show you everything heâd bottled inside over the past few years.
If he could just shut off his brain long enough to throw caution to the wind, he would tell you everything. If he could stop thinking about every possible thing that could go wrong, he would take a chance. If he could stop worrying about ruining everything, he would do something. But Namjoon canât figure out how to turn his brain off, so he just sits. And stares.
Youâd met Namjoon in college, both of you timid freshmen in a large lecture class who got paired together for a research paper. Namjoon had never seen a more beautiful woman in his life, and spent far more time looking at you than looking up sources to site for your paper. You were pretty sure your cheeks never went back to normal after that, permanently painted a slight shade of pink at the handsome man who couldnât stop watching you.
Despite the heat in your cheeks and the way Namjoon couldnât keep his eyes off you, you both quickly fell into a comfortable rhythm. Youâd never felt so close with someone so fast in your life. Strangers one day, best friends the next. You felt like youâd known each other your entire lives within a matter of days. Youâd both spent the entirety of your college career attached at the hip, and you still were to this day.
Now, you shared a two bedroom apartment with your best friend and spent every moment you could together. You never got tired of each otherâs company. Lately though, youâd noticed Namjoon was acting a little weird. Namjoon wasnât shy when it came to affection, and would often pull you into a hug or let you cuddle up to him while you watched a film together.
But the past few weeks he had been very hot and cold. Heâd pull you in for a cuddle then stiffen and shuffle away, avoiding your gaze. Â Heâd lean into your touch when you played with his hair then squirm away and mumble apologies before disappearing into his room for the rest of the night. It felt like Namjoon was pulling away from you and it was breaking your heart. You didnât know what you were doing wrong. You were determined to revive your friendship to itsâ former glory.
âJoonie!â you called, shouting down the hall as you made your way towards his room.
You knocked lightly on the door and he called for you to come in. His head lifted to look at you as you hopped your way over to him excitedly.
âWhat are you doing?â you grinned, leaning over his shoulder and pressing your body against his back as you surveyed the contents of his desk.
Namjoon coughed uncomfortably and leaned away from you. You frowned and stood up straight.
âItâs a proposal for work on Thursday. Weâre going to be expanding the marketing department and launching a new social media campaign and they want me to come up with the pitch to give the director for our new campaign.â he explained.
âWhy are you working at home?â you asked, your brow furrowing in worry.
âBecause I need to have this done in two days.â he sighed.
âOh Joon, please donât overwork yourself. Look at the bags under your eyes! Arenât you exhausted?â you cooed, letting your thumb run under his eye in an attempt to soothe the bags.
Namjoon closed his eyes and sighed happily while leaning into your touch, relishing the feeling of your skin on his for a moment. His breathing seemed to even at the comfort he felt when you were close to him. You smiled fondly at the soft man under your touch before Namjoon snapped back to reality and jerked away from you.
âI should get back to itâŚâ he cleared his throat, avoiding your gaze.
âJoonieâŚâ you sighed, wanting to reach out to him.
âHm?â he asked, not looking up from his laptop where he typed away.
âNothing. Good luck with your project.â you sighed.
A few hours later, Joon emerged and immediately fell onto the couch next to you, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck and snuggling up against your frame.
âMy head hurts.â he whined.
âYouâve been staring at that computer all day. Of course it does.â you accused, but began running your fingers through his hair gently the way you knew Namjoon loved.
He sighed and leaned into your touch, letting you bring comfort to his aching brain. Namjoon melted into your touch, and you hummed quietly, hoping to soothe the pain at least a little. You hated how hard Namjoon worked, you hated seeing him suffer in any way and just wanted to hold him and make him relax.
Soon, Namjoonâs weight against you grew heavy and you knew heâd fallen asleep. You maneuvered his head off of your shoulder and into your lap so you could watch him. His unconscious body seemed to seek yours out. He snuggled closer to your stomach, resting his cheek against it and smiling. You giggled quietly and let your fingers gently trail over his features.
You traced the bridge of his nose, up over his forehead, and he hummed happily in his sleep. You giggled and let your tender touches float down his cheeks and over his lips. You traced the outline of his full lips more than once, wondering idly what they might feel like against your own. They were soft and thick. You wanted to taste them so badly.
You sighed and moved your fingers back up to his cheeks, starting your journey over again. Between the soft sounds of his even breathing to the warmth of his body on yours, you didnât really stand a chance and ended up falling asleep too, your hand on his cheek and your head lolled back against the couch. Â
You woke hours later in your own bed tucked into your duvet. Â You frowned at the cold air surrounding you and the lack of Namjoon in your arms. You huffed in annoyance and flung the blankets off your body, stalking towards Namjoonâs room to ask him just what his problem was. You were about to fling his door open and give him a piece of your mind when you heard a quiet moan from inside.
Was his headache that bad? Poor Joon. Maybe heâd just needed to lie in a dark place. You cracked the door to glance in and check on him, and froze as your eyes soaked in the sight before you. Namjoon lay naked on his bed, sweat slicked hair stuck to his forehead as his massive hand worked up and down his equally massive dick. Your own hand came to cover your mouth in shock but you couldnât tear your eyes away.
Joon grunted softly, running his thumb over the tip and jerking his hips at the action. Moisture pooled in your panties while you watched his abdomen constrict with the pressure building as he tugged and moaned. Joonâs moans were sinful, beautiful, melodic. You wanted to draw the lovely sounds from the man, but you just watched him pleasure himself. His breathing picked up pace and his moans turned to whines as he got closer to release. Joon met his high and spurts of white shot from his length as he bit his lip to hold in the loud groan. You quietly shut the door so you wouldnât get caught peeping on your best friend, but couldnât shake the image of his body shuddering under his ministrations. The scene played on repeat in your brain the whole night, invading your dreams as well.
***
âYou had a sex dream about Namjoon?â Jimin coughed, spitting out a little of the coffee heâd been drinking.
âYes. Ugh. And⌠itâs not the first time.â you admitted, avoiding his gaze.
âOoh, who wouldâve thought you were such a dirty girl.â Jimin teased, wiggling his eyebrows.
âUghhh. Jimin help me. The dreams didnât used to be this vivid but when I saw him jerking off the other day-â
âYOU WHAT?â he choked.
âOh yeah. Ummm⌠I kinda accidentally watched him masturbate?â you said it like a question.
âAccidentally?â Jimin raised an accusing brow.
âI was checking on him since he had a headache and⌠I saw him jerking it.â you hid your face in your hands.
âOh my god.â Jimin laughed. âWait how big is he?â
âJimin!â You chastised, but grinned knowingly.
âI knew it. Damn. I feel insecure now. Joon really has it all.â He laughed.
âIâm sure youâre fine.â You giggled. âNow help me!â
âHe doesnât know that you saw, right?â Jimin confirmed.
âNo!â You blurted out, a little too loudly for the small cafe.
The barista glared at you. You lowered your tone, sending her an apologetic smile.
âNo. I could never look him in the eye again. Iâd have to move.â You gushed anxiously.
âI bet he was jacking off to you.â Jimin smirked.
âOh shut up Jimin. Iâm the one with the crush not him.â You sighed.
âY/N. Youâre both clearly into each other and neither of you has enough balls to do anything about it.â Jimin tutted.
âThereâs no way.â You shook your head in denial.
âWanna bet on it?â He smirked. â$50 says he likes you too. He just needs⌠a push.â
âA push?â You asked.
âLetâs make him jealous.â Jimin grinned.
âHow?â You asked, tilting your head to the side in confusion.
âPretend youâre into me. Weâll flirt in front of him, cuddle a bit, see if he snaps.â Jiminâs eyes sparkled mischievously.
âThat will never work because he doesnât like me.â You argued.
âWell if youâre right youâll be $50 richer. What do you have to lose?â He shrugged.
âWell⌠I guess youâre right.â You nodded. âFine but only to get you to shut up about Joon liking me. And when I win you have to help me get over this weird lusting phase.â
âPhase.â he scoffed âLike you havenât been dying to get that man inside you for years.â
Your face turned bright red and you flipped him off, but didnât object with his words. You couldnât. Itâs not that you hadnât been attracted to Joon before, it was just intensified after the events you witnessed the night before. It seemed to be all you could think about when you looked at him.
So for the next few weeks, youâd slowly introduced PDA with Jimin while watching to see if you got a reaction out of Namjoon. It started off light, hand holding here, a kiss on the cheek there. Namjoon seemed uncomfortable, but not jealous. You were ready to collect your $50 and call it quits but Jimin kept insisting that if you took it a little further, Namjoon would crack and be unable to hold back his jealousy.
And that was how you found yourself on your couch straddling Jiminâs lap.
âJimin this is stupid.â You whisper-hissed, trying your best not to make contact with his crotch despite your position.
âTrust me, if Joon walks in on this, heâll lose his shit.â Jimin assured you.
You heard the door unlock and sent Jimin a panicked look. He grabbed your hips and ground your body down on his and quickly moved his lips against your neck to leave a mark on the skin. If you werenât so gone for Namjoon you might have actually enjoyed it. You did your best to put on a show, leaning your head back and letting out quiet moans.
A loud crash came from the direction of the front door of your shared apartment and you gasped, looking up to see Namjoon frozen in place with his jaw nearly on the floor. The grocery bags heâd been carrying had fallen from his now limp hands. Jiminâs lips stilled against your skin and you both looked towards Namjoon feigning shock.
You scrambled off of Jiminâs lap and stood up, smoothing your clothes. Jimin stayed on the couch, just observing.
âJoon! I didnât think youâd be home so soon.â You squeaked.
âI-uh⌠yeah, I just⌠sorry.â He mumbled, ducking his head down and picking up the spilled groceries.
You dashed over to help, but Namjoon flinched away from you so you backed up and let him finish the task. You gnawed on your lower lip, waiting for him to say something else. You glanced at Jimin who sent you an encouraging smile and a thumbs up.
âIf you guys donât want to be interrupted maybe you should do that in your room, and not the shared living area.â Namjoon finally spoke, trying and failing to hide the venom in his tone.
Jimin stood up, walking over and wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, resting his head at the crook of your neck and peppering soft kisses at the exposed skin, licking over the previous lovebites heâd placed there, making sure Namjoon saw them. Namjoon stiffened.
âHeâs right, letâs take this somewhere a little more⌠private. Poor Joonie shouldnât have to witness the things Iâm about to do to my dirty slut.â he purred seductively, hot breath fanning over your ear.
You shivered and glanced at Namjoon who was staring daggers at Jimin. A gasp escaped your lips as Jimin rolled his hips into your ass and you felt a very real erection. You turned to look at him and he grinned with no remorse, tugging your wrist to lead you to your bedroom. He closed the door and slammed your body up against it, hands pressing into your shoulders, but kept a distance from you now that Namjoon wasnât watching.
âJimin, what the fu-â you began.
âMoan. Loud. Make it believable.â he whispered. âIf he thinks Iâm fucking your brains out in here heâs going to lose his shit.â
âJimin why do you have a boner?â you hissed.
âY/N.â he scoffed. âI am absolutely team Namjoon okay? But I am a man, and a beautiful woman was just grinding on my dick. Sue me.â
âI-â
âIt doesnât mean Iâm into you or anything, but that was hot. Iâm not going to try anything but I canât stop my anatomy from functioning properly. You canât tell me youâre not a little turned on.â he grumbled, removing his hands from your shoulders and stepping back so you could peel yourself off the door.
âOkay. Youâre right. Now what?â you asked.
âBe a good girl and moan for me.â he winked, sitting on your bed and pulling out his phone.
âFuck, Jimin!â you did your best impression of a moan despite how uncomfortable you felt, sitting beside him and holding a pillow in your lap.
Jiminâs eyebrows shot up.
âDamn. Okay.â he whispered, then got louder as he groaned.  âFuck baby right there. Mmm⌠your pretty little mouth feels so good wrapped around my cock.â
You stifled a giggle and shoved his arm and he shot you the cockiest grin youâd ever seen on him, which was saying something. Jimin continued to moan loudly, until he decided it was time for things to kick up a notch.
âOkay, show time baby.â he winked, and stood up.
He began shoving your headboard against the wall rhythmically. It was loud enough it shook you, so you knew Namjoon could hear.
âFuck, YN. Youâre so tight.â Jimin groaned, sending you a pointed look.
âUgh! Right there!â you whined loudly.
âWho owns this pussy?â Jimin smirked, wiggling his eyebrows at you.
âJimin!â you cried out, then tried not to laugh when Jimin dramatically fanned himself.
âHarder! Oh god donât stop!â you called out, and Jimin gave you a thumbs up while he continued shoving your headboard against the wall.
âAre you going to cum on Daddyâs cock?â Jimin grinned.
âFuck fuck fuck!â you screamed, honestly a little impressed with how realistic you sounded.
Jimin joined in your chorus with loud moans of his own, and stopped slamming your headboard against the wall. You suddenly got very embarrassed heâd heard such intimate sounds out of you, even if they were fake. Your cheeks burned cherry red and you avoided Jiminâs gaze.
âDamn. That was hot.â he whisper-laughed, knocking his shoulder into yours as he sat beside you.
âShut up.â you giggled. âKinda was though.â
âIf things donât work out with Joonie, call me.â he wiggled his eyebrows.
âPlease, you couldnât handle all this.â you joked, gesturing to yourself.
âYouâre right, youâre an emotional basket case and I am not as patient as Namjoon.â he laughed, flinching when you punched his arm.
âAsshole.â you giggled.
âCome here.â he suddenly said, reaching for your hair and messing it up.
âWhat the fuck!â you hissed.
âDo you want to look fucked or do you want to look like we faked it?â he narrowed his eyes.
âTrue.â you agreed, reaching over and doing the same to his soft tendrils.
âOoh, scratch my neck. Wait no. Should I walk out there shirtless and have you scratch my back?â he smirked evilly.
âTake your shirt off.â you instructed.
âDamn round two already? Youâre insatiable!â Jimin chuckled.
You rolled your eyes and waited for him to rid himself of his t-shirt, then thought about the most realistic angle. You put your hands up to assess, turning and standing and checking your options. You finally decided the only way to get realistic marks was to act it out.
âI think youâre gonna have to get on top of me.â you concluded.
âI thought youâd never ask.â he smirked, exaggeratedly rolling his bottom lip between his teeth.
âShut up, I just want it to look real.â you hissed, laying back while Jimin hovered over you.
âSuuure.â he grinned, looking down into your eyes from his position above you. He smiled.
You wrapped your arms around his torso and dug your nails experimentally into his back. Jimin shivered involuntarily. You bit your lip to conceal a giggle and raked your nails down his back, making sure to dig into the skin a little so the marks would stay. A quiet whimper left Jiminâs throat.
âYouâre enjoying this too much.â you accused.
âYouâre probably right.â he laughed. âIâm going straight home to jack off after this.â
âYouâre disgusting.â you laughed.
Jimin shrugged unapologetically. âYou should probably do it a few more times to make it look like I fucked you real good.â
âYou just like it.â you laughed.
âThat too.â he agreed.
He had a point though, so you repeated the action a few more times, desperately trying to ignore the noises that erupted from Jimin as you did. If you werenât so in love with Namjoon youâd probably jump Jiminâs bones at this point. You did your best not to focus on his toned abs when he finally rose from you, allowing you to inspect your marks.
âLooks good.â you smiled, giving him a thumbs up.
An idea struck you so you shimmied your pants off and slipped on some pajama shorts and changed into Jiminâs shirt. He nodded in approval.
âShow time.â he sing songed, pulling your bedroom door open and sauntering down the hallway.
You followed him, noting Joon on the couch watching some new Netflix documentary. You didnât say anything as you breezed past him, following Jimin into the kitchen to brew some tea.
âI need a snack to replenish my energy. You really wore me out, baby girl.â Jimin teased, pinching your behind and causing you to yelp.
âDo you want me to make something?â you asked.
âMmm⌠cooking for me? Maybe we could use some leftover whipped cream for round two.â he suggested playfully.
âStop.â you giggled, covering your face.
âI really should get going though, itâs getting late and I have to work tomorrow. I wish I could just stay here, in your bed. I donât think weâd get any sleep though.â he chuckled.
âLet me change out of your shirt real quick.â you offered but he grabbed your wrist and pulled you against his body.
âMmm⌠keep it. Looks better on you anyway. Plus, I wanna show off my battle scars.â he wiggled his eyebrows.
Namjoon got up off the couch, turned off the tv, and stalked to his room, slamming the door shut without a word. You looked to Jimin in surprise. He smirked victoriously.
âCheck. Mate.â he grinned.
âHeâs probably just annoyed because weâre being obnoxious.â you sighed.
âTrust me, Y/N. Heâs jealous and filled with rage. If looks could kill, youâd be planning my funeral right now.â Jimin assured you.
âIf you say so⌠do you really not want this back?â you asked.
âNah. I got a spare in the car.â he smiled, âgood luck, okay? Donât chicken out if the opportunity presents itself. You like him. He likes you. You guys could be happy. Let yourself be happy, yeah?â
You wrapped your arms around his neck and let yourself be comforted by your friendâs words and his warm embrace. He hugged you back even tighter, then pulled away, holding you at arms length so he could look into your eyes.
âI mean it. Let yourself have this. Donât be scared.â he coached gently.
âThank you, Jiminie. I love you.â you smiled up at him.
âI love you too. Now go get your man.â he grinned, walking out the door and leaving you alone in the living room.
You took a deep breath and walked down the hall past Namjoonâs room, slowing as you heard crashing from inside. You knocked lightly on the door.
âJoon? You okay? Did something break?â you questioned, hand on the knob.
The door flung open and you were greeted with Namjoonâs chest as he towered over you. The look he gave you made you feel even smaller though.
âI dropped something. Not like you can complain about my noise level, Y/N.â he huffed.
âI just wanted to make sure you were okay.â you said quietly.
âIâm fine. I actually think it might be time for me to find somewhere else to live.â he stated.
You froze, panic filling your chest.
âWhat?! Why?â you squeaked, tears welling in your eyes despite your urge for them to stay away.
âIf youâre going to be seeing Jimin, itâs clear that you guys need your own space. I donât want to listen to you have sex with him all the time, and Iâm sure youâd appreciate the privacy.â Namjoon sighed, avoiding your eyes.
âBut I⌠we⌠itâs not-â you tried, but your mouth wasnât cooperating with your racing mind.
âItâs fine. Itâs about time you got a boyfriend. Itâs probably weird that weâre both single and living together.â Joon shrugged.
âNo itâs not!â you argued, a pout on your lips.
âDonât you want to fuck your boyfriend in peace without having to worry about your roommate hearing?â Joon challenged.
âHeâs not my boyfriend!â you blurted out.
âWhat?â Joon tilted his head in confusion.
âHeâs not⌠heâs not my boyfriend. We didnât have sex. We only pretended to. Jimin had me convinced that if I pretended to be dating him that youâd get jealous and that youâd make a move because Iâm too scared to. I told him you didnât like me and that it wasnât going to work but he wouldnât shut up about it, he kept saying-â you began but Namjoon cut you off.
âYou made out with Jimin on our couch and pretended to have sex with him to try and make me jealous?â he clarified.
âI know itâs stupid I told him-â you rambled on, wringing your hands together anxiously.
âYou didnât fuck him.â Joon clarified one more time.
âNo.â you confirmed.
âOh thank god.â Joon sighed in relief, and before you knew it, his lips were on yours.
Your eyes widened in shock but you soon melted into his embrace, your entire body alive and buzzing with adrenaline. Joon guided you towards the wall until your back hit it with a gentle thud and he pushed his body closer to yours until you were flush against each other. His hands came to cup your face, thumb rubbing soft circles on your cheek. He pulled away, but remained just centimeters from your lips.
âThat was extremely immature and childish.â he chided, âBut it worked. I wanted to kill him.â
âMmmâŚâ you hummed happily.
âI couldnât stand the thought of another man kissing you,â he sighed, letting his lips gently brush against your own. âAnother man marking you,â he whispered, his kisses moving to your neck and sucking his own marks to claim you. âAnother man touching youâŚâ he trailed off, hand running down your side until his fingers brushed against your nipple, barely concealed by the thin fabric of Jiminâs shirt.  Joonâs soft touch froze for a moment.
Without warning, he ripped the shirt you were wearing over your head and tossed it aside, revealing your shorts and barely-there bra. He smirked in satisfaction. âI donât like you wearing another manâs clothes either.â he purred, bringing his lips back to the skin of your neck and allowing them to travel down to your collarbones.
Upon hearing your real whimpers, you couldnât believe how fake youâd sounded earlier. The noises Namjoon managed to elicit from you were real, raw, and desperate. Namjoon grinned against the flesh of your collar bones, moving his kisses even lower to the swell of your breasts. Namjoon had fantasised about these breasts more times than heâd care to admit, and he was about to bust in his pants now that his fantasies were coming true. He was determined to give your body the attention and admiration it deserved.
He reached behind you and unsnapped the flimsy bralette you were wearing, letting it tumble to the floor unceremoniously. You shivered as the cool air hit your nipples, causing them to perk and harden. Or maybe that was the effect Namjoon had on you. You didnât find time to ponder the reason because soon, he had those delectable, pillowy lips wrapped around one of the hardened buds, nimble fingers rolling the other.
A haggard moan left your lips and your head lolled back, hitting the wall while Namjoon rolled his tongue over your sensitive flesh. He let his teeth graze it gently, and your body jolted off the wall closer to his. He took the opportunity to guide you towards his bed, shoving you down onto the mattress. Your body bounced with the impact and he hovered over you, ripping his shirt off and tossing it aside. Your eyes locked on the smooth planes of his stomach. Your mouth watered as your gaze trailed lower to the trail of hair that led to the part of him youâd been dreaming about since you caught him with his hand wrapped around it.
You reached up and pulled him back down to you and Namjoon took the opportunity to slip his hand between your bodies, slipping it under the fabric of your shorts and panties.
âMmm⌠so wet. Is this because of me, baby?â he grinned.
You thought about teasing him and saying it was Jimin but youâd waited too long for this moment to fuck it up now.
âAll for you, Joonie.â you whined, bucking your hips up to get some friction.
âMmm.. Â thatâs not my name baby doll.â he smirked.
âFuck⌠daddy.â you whimpered.
âThatâs right baby girl.â he praised, âYou want daddy to make you feel good?â
âPlease.â you begged.
Namjoon smirked and began rubbing lazy circles on your clit, spreading your juices along the swollen nub. You groaned, leaning your head back. It felt so good, but it wasnât enough. You needed to be filled.
âFuck me, daddy.â you whined.
âSo needy.â he tutted, dragging your shorts and panties off and tossing them to the floor.
He shimmied out of his shorts and boxers and your eyes locked on his cock. Thick, long, and leaking precum. Your tongue involuntarily darted along your lower lip, wetting the surface as you stared at Namjoonâs length with desire. You leaned up and tentatively licked at the tip, gathering the pre-cum on your tongue before swallowing and humming happily. Joon closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling for a moment before pushing your shoulders back.
âWe can try all that later. I want to cum inside of you, and I wonât last if you wrap those pretty lips around me.â he sighed, âbut letâs get you ready, hm?â
You nodded and laid back against the pillows while Namjoon slipped two fingers in your drenched hole. You moaned loudly, finally feeling something fill your aching pussy. Joon curled his fingers and pumped them in and out of you, thumb rubbing circles on your clit. His lips crashed against yours again, swallowing up your moans and whines while he finger fucked you. The ridges of his fingers sliding against your velvety walls had you in a state of bliss. It wasnât long before the familiar fire built deep in your belly and you were rocketing over the edge. Joon worked you through your high, never relenting in the slightest until you whimpered and pushed his hand away.
âAre you ready for me, baby?â he asked.
âYes. Yes.â you let out breathlessly.
Joon smiled and rolled the condom onto his shaft before slowly sliding inside of you. Your eyes rolled back in your head at the way Namjoon fit perfectly in your walls. You could feel everything, like he was made to be inside of you. The stretch burned for a moment, but Namjoon remained still until you were comfortable. Once you gave him the signal that it was okay to move, Namjoon held nothing back.
His hips snapped into yours at a merciless pace, making your body bounce with the impact and incoherent gibberish leave your lips. Your arms found purchase around his neck while he rode you like there was no tomorrow. Namjoon had a lot of pent up sexual frustration when it came to you and he had every intention of unleashing it on you. He brought your nipple in his mouth once more.
You didnât think you could last long with the way Namjoon was hitting that spot inside of you with every thrust, every time his cock landed against your walls it was just right and you were a mess beneath him in minutes, writing against his movements, bucking your hips up to meet his.
A chorus of his name slipped from you like a prayer, or a chant. You didnât know. All you knew was that Namjoon felt so good and the only thing you could focus on was him and the impending orgasm he was unleashing inside of you with his relentless thrusts. Your nails dug into his back and your walls clenched around him as your orgasm built until you were just over the edge.
Namjoon stilled inside of you, and the orgasm ebbed away. A sob escaped your throat and you looked at Namjoon in confusion. He slipped out of your heat and you felt empty at the loss. He simply smirked and moved his head to begin kissing at your inner thighs.
âJoon, what-â you tried to ask, panting.
âMmm⌠only good girls get to cum.â he hummed against your thigh. âTeasing daddy by grinding on your little friend⌠you werenât being a very good girl, were you, baby doll?â
âBut IâŚâ you whined.
âI know why you did it.â he nodded in agreement, âand I agree. I needed a push. But I still didnât like seeing your sweet little cunt grinding down on him. That pussy is mine.â he growled, possessiveness filling his eyes.
âYes, Iâm all yours daddy.â you sighed.
âThatâs right.â he smirked.
He moved back up your body, leaving a trail of kisses as he went until his lips met yours again. His fingers brushed teasingly along your inner thigh and dipped in your heat, pumping in and out of you at an agonizingly slow place. His knuckles grazing your walls, his hot breath in your ear, whispering dirty things like a secret for just you to know, it was all too much.
Namjoon brought you to the edge over and over again before ripping your orgasm away from you each time. Tears welled in your eyes at the frustration. You were a complete mess beneath him and he only smirked in satisfaction, lazily rubbing patterns on your sensitive clit.
âMmm.. does my baby want to cum?â he cooed.
âFuck. Yes. Please. Joon please please please.â you nearly cried.
âHmmm.. do you think youâve earned it? Has daddy punished you enough? You sure did like showing off and making me angry.â
âPlease, Iâm sorry. Iâm yours, only yours. PLEASE.â you whined.
Namjoon hummed and seemed to think deeply about your request. He nodded in approval and soon he was pounding into you again like heâd never stopped. It didnât take you long to reach your end after that, so riled up and sensitive from the edging. You were so close, so close again.
âCum for daddy.â Namjoon breathed in your ear, his voice low and husky.
You screamed his name as your vision went white hot and your back arched off the bed. Blissful euphoria enveloped your whole body while Joon rode out your high with you, soon meeting his own end. You were panting breathlessly to the point your lungs were burning as you both came back down. Joon discarded the condom and wrapped his arms around you, gently smoothing your hair away from your face and whispering encouraging things to you.
âYou did so well for me baby.â he praised, kissing your forehead.
You nodded, snuggling closer into his frame. You were too exhausted to formulate a reply. Your brain was jello after the fucking of a lifetime youâd just recieved. Joon held you quietly, hands roaming tenderly to soothe your aching muscles. You leaned into his touch and when your heart finally returned to itsâ normal rhythm, you looked up into his eyes.
âYou know, Iâm kind of thankful for Jimin.â Joon spoke.
âHmm?â you questioned.
âI think if it werenât for you assholes trying to make me jealous, I wouldâve never pulled my head out of my ass.â he sighed. âI was just so scared that you wouldnât feel the same way and I didnât want to ruin everything we had, you know? Youâre so important to me, Y/N. I donât ever want to lose you.â
âYou wonât ever lose me.â you confirmed, fire in your eyes and passion in your voice. âBut I get it. I was scared too.â
âEvery time I see you, I get these words stuck in my head. All it is is 8 letters and Iâve wanted to tell you for so long, Y/N, but I was terrified of being rejected.â he admitted, eyes downcast.
âJoonie?â you whispered warily, moving your head back so you could look into his eyes.
âYeah, baby?â
âI love you.â
âI love you.â he smiled, kissing the tip of your nose
You bit your lip to try and hide the smile threatening to cover your face while looking into Namjoonâs eyes.
âBut if Jimin ever puts his hands on you again I will kill him.â Namjoon grumbled.
You giggled and hid your face in his chest.
âI love you.â you repeat, unable to find a better response, and to be honest, it just felt good to say it out loud after all this time.
Joonâs grumpy expression morphed into one of fondness and affection, he caressed your cheek in his large hand, bringing his lips gently to yours in a chaste kiss.
âI love you too.â he sighed happily. . âSo very much.â
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"I'm sure that a lot of people by now wonder what my favorite live action Disney movie is. I do have one and it's been my favorite since I was really little. My favorite Disney male character goes hand in hand with that movie." (Me.)
I didn't watch hardly any live action movies when I was a kid. But the two that I did watch had one thing in common, Dick Van Dyke was the star of both of them. The other one of course was Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. Live action bored me as a child who wanted nothing but cartoons and animation. So it would make sense that my favorite Disney live action movie have a major animation component. Everything about the original Mary Poppins from the story, to the music, to the characters, to the moral of the story all of it hits different every time I watch it. And at the center of all the story is Bert a man with many talents that continually helps out the children of the story.
One of my favorite things about Bert is that you never really know that much about him. You never know how he got to that point in his life where he had to do all of these jobs or see where he lives. But the point is that you don't need to. I always thought that he didn't have anywhere to go so he slept where he could if he needed to. You only needed to know how kind he was. That was key to his personality that no matter what he would keep that goofy smile on his face no matter what his life handed to him. Even though life had probably been really cruel to him he never let that drag him down. He would continue to help other people even though his life was probably hell.
You never really know also what his feelings for Mary are. This is one of the few Disney movies out there where you never really know if the two main characters are in a relationship or not. It's left open to speculation and I find that so beautiful yet interesting at the same time. Most Disney films would exploit the hell out of their relationship for the sake of making it clear to children. But it took me a while to figure out the underlying massive amount of romantic tension there. I love that the movie doesn't tell you much about Bert and Mary's relationship because that isn't the focus. The focus is on the family and whether or not they'll wind up happy and complete.
Now you're probably wondering why I consider Bert my favorite Disney male character? Well I'll tell you why. My type as everyone and their mother knows is "goofball". A lot of the time I feel like Disney is too afraid to have their male character be perfect all the time and to me that's very boring. You should allow for them to make goofy faces and for them to make people laugh. He's the only one that isn't just your stereotypical boring prince charming. Instead, Bert is hard working, goofy, is allowed to make the children laugh, he's loyal, always around in times when there needs to be a little bit of light, and above all he's kind. Your male characters can be kind AND entertaining Disney, I know it's such a concept.
I loved Bert when I was a child because he was just so entertaining. He was always having fun and smiling. Dick Van Dyke is such a national treasure and to me he's what makes Bert so much fun. My parents have a running joke where all three of my live action crushes have had three things in common *Patrick Swayze, young Donald O'Connor, and young Dick Van Dyke* all three of them were blue eyed, funny in their own ways, and dancers. I see a lot of people hating on Dyke's performance and that's one of the most annoying pet peeves that I have. I wish people would give him the credit that he deserves because damn it he's so good in this movie and doesn't deserve to be hated on. I loved his performance when I was a child and I still do to this day because of how amazing he is. Even though it's not an accurate accent it's not supposed to be. It's just supposed to be entertaining and lovable and to compel you into the story.
The music in Mary Poppins is the best that Disney has ever done. I have an obsession with Sherman Brother's music and to me there's no better film to showcase just how amazingly talented they were together. They were a duo of brother's that sometimes didn't get along and that was eventually what ended their relationship. But their music in this film gave me one of my favorite Disney moments period. For those of you that don't know, one of my favorite songs is A Man Has Dreams. It's such a beautiful message that you need to be there for your children or else one day they'll grow up and they won't need you to be there anymore. You should treasure the time with your children while they're young and while they need you before they get too old. Treasure the time while they have their imagination and do fun things with them that they'll carry with them for the rest of their life. Without Bert Mr. Banks would have never realized just how much he was actually harming his kids by not being there with them that was hurting them.
Growing up with Mary Poppins is something that I encourage every child to do. It's one that I hope to instill on my future adopted children as well. The message is so subtle and beautiful at the same time that it truly needs to be experienced by everyone. Whenever I go back and rewatch this movie I'm reminded of why I love Bert.
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I Donât Hate You - Part 17 (Jason Todd x Reader)
JAY IS BACK MOTHERFUCKERS
WORDS: 6706 WARNINGS: A BIT OF VIOLENCE. JASON BEING AN ASSHOLE.
Masterlist
I DONâT HATE YOU - MASTERLIST
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âJust coffee. For two.â
The waitress nodded. âAnything else?â
âNo.â
She left. Five minutes later she brought in two mugs and poured in your drinks.
You warmed your chilled palms onto the ceramic. You somehow felt cold. Even when it was ninety degrees out. Especially your hands. You blew into your mug and took a sip. Just to warm up the itch in your throat.
Three weeks ago, Dick gave you that first call. You asked what it was about. He said he needed to talk to you in person. When he showed up to your house, he had a sling in his arm from a gunshot wound.
You thought he didnât need to explain where he got it from. You knew who he was, as well as Bruce. But then he told you that it wasnât from Penguin or Riddler or even a common thug. That it came from a new enemy going after Batman.
Still a bit confused why he came all the way to your place just to tell you that, he started bringing in a few documents.
First, he showed you pictures of Jasonâs grave with a massive hole where his body was supposed to be. You remembered sweating your hair out at the horrible sight, the chills that ran down your back. It wasnât from grave diggers. No. It was from someone climbing out from 6 feet under the soil.
Then, he showed you DNA test results.
Jasonâs DNA, taken from when he was still alive, and a DNA sample from the Red Hoodâs blood they had taken from one of their encounters. It was a match.
You demanded to know what was going on. Because whatever Dick was trying to tell you, none of it made even the slightest bit of sense. Dick wished he could explain more, but even he didnât know the full story.
You couldnât sleep that night, and barely the next night.
But then the week after that, Bruce invited you over to the mansion to talk. Dick picked you up, and at the dinner table, you, including Alfred, had a long, difficult talk about how heâd confirmed that Jason Todd, officially pronounced dead three years ago April 27, had been brought back to life by some unknown force, took the mantle of the Red Hood.
With you in the brink of tears, Bruce told you they were still trying trace where he came from, studied his techniques that Bruce was sure Jason didnât know until now. So far, they found out that the Red Hood had been going around the state before he came to Gotham, formed his own crime ring and has taken over the empires of almost ten different drug lords. He was wanted in over six sectors, has left bodies left and right.
And now, heâs challenging Batman with his new style of vigilantism, which included cold-blooded murder. Every time Bruce, Dick, and the new Robin, Tim Drake, come across the Red Hood, they barely come out of it alive. He really wanted them dead.
And he was good at his job, as well. Heâs done more good for the people than anything else. But he was also taking the lives of so many, Bruce wanted to put a stop to it.
You asked to be left alone for a while. For days, you didnât talk to anyone. You stared at the rooftops. You looked at Jasonâs old photos, compared them with the Red Hoodâs new photos. You tried with everything you could to understand that the man you still loved even after three years of his death was now back, alive, risen from the dead as if that wasnât actually insane. You mourned for him for so long. You still did. And what was that going to amount to now? You knew he was involved so many things you never could understand. But this? This defiance of the laws of nature?
You barely slept a wink.
Two days ago, Dick told you they needed your help.
You didnât want to be involved, and you told him that. You werenât even sure you wanted to see him like this. If this was even the same Jason before his death.
Dick told you that somehow, you could be of help. You could talk to him. Level him back down and give him the peace he needed to stop all the killings. You werenât sure if that would work, and if anything, it was risking your life. You had no idea what Jason was capable of now. He could kill you. He could be heartless like that. And he was, from the way he was acting now. It wouldnât be of any surprise.
But Dick and Bruce, they were running out of options. And even without Bruce outrightly admitting it, they wanted Jason back in the family. They missed him, too. It wasnât just you.
As if the three years of grief werenât enough. If any part of him was the same Jason you fell in love with, and still love now, this was the thing of your most impossible dreams, that your dead boyfriend had miraculously come back. It was insane. But you knew, with all your heart, you desperately wanted him back.
But you needed the help. Bruce offered to pay for therapy if that was what you needed, to get your head straight, figure things out before you ultimately decide what to do. Eventually, you agreed.
And now, here you were.
You took another sip from your cup, then Dick came up from behind you.
âHey.â
âHey.â You stood up to give him a little hug. His hand patting your back, he sat across from you.
âFor you.â
âThank you.â He took the coffee mug. âYouâre looking a lot better.â
You held your drink with both hands. âThanks.â
âIf youâre not comfortable in any way, I completely understand.â
You tried to hold back your shaking arms. You didnât want him to see just how much this all scared you.
âWhat brought him back?â
âRaâs al Ghul. The Lazarus pit. At least, that was after he was already resurrected. The pit just fixed his body and made him stronger.â
âLazarus pit?â
âItâs uh,â he stuttered. âRaâs has this League of Assassins with his daughter, Talia. And they own all these Lazarus Pits. Itâs a sort of a Fountain of Youth. He bathes in it, and it makes him live for six hundred years. It also heals your body from just about any injury.
âThey must have found Jason, bathed him in the pit, then nursed him back to health in an attempt to create this someone to go against Bruce.â
This was far, far beyond what you could have possibly imagined. Some sort of the supernatural had always been real. Magic. Aliens. The Justice League. But now that you were involved? This was too much.
But with Jason⌠your sweet, loving Jason⌠Youâll do anything.
âYou think heâs heartless enough to try to kill me?â you asked.
Dick drank from his coffee mug, set it down, then swallowed.
âI never got to tell you, didnât I?â
âWhat?â
Dick bit his lips. âJasonâs not gonna hurt you. Iâm sure of it. I wouldnât have called if it had put you in any kind of danger at all.â
âHow are you so sure?â
He looked out the window, at a rooftop from an apartment building nearby. You breathed into your mug.
âAbout a week ago, I put a tracker on him without him knowing. Then one day I followed him, just to see what he was up toâŚâ
He held his cup.
âHe was waiting for you outside your university. And when you got out, he followed you all the way to your house. Heâs been at it almost every single day.â
You caught your breath in your throat and watched Dick with your lips starting to shake.
âAnd it isnât just that. He does everything to make sure you donât get hurt. When you go out at night, heâs still watching you. As the Red Hood. One time before you were about to cross an alleyway where thugs were waiting to rob you, he beat the living shit out of them before you even noticed.â
You gulped down, then you drank even more of your coffee just to ease your nerves. You shifted in your seat, then cleared your scratchy throat.
âHow long has he been at this?â
âIâm guessing since he first came to Gotham. A month ago.â
The coffee suddenly didnât taste so calming anymore. âGod⌠I⌠This is still so much to processâŚâ
âI know.â
âHe isnât going to show himself to me willingly, is he?â
âI donât think he will. He makes sure you never see him.â
You closed your eyes.
âThatâs why I called you. If you got to talk to him, maybe you can get him to listen.â
He loves you. He still does. And he was a broken soul, protecting you when no one was there to protect him. He needed you.
It was that one, single push you needed.
âI want to do it.â
Dick held your wrist and squeezed it tightly. âDonât worry. If anything goes wrong, Bruce, Tim, and I will be there.â
âItâs not that Iâm afraid of,â you said. âI donât know whatâs going to happen after this.â
Not a clue. Not a single premonition.
âHonestly, me neither.â He finished his coffee. âBut itâs worth a try.â
-----
One. Two. Three.
Those fools had it coming.
Barely a word out of his mouth gushing with blood. The Red Hood held his neck, stuck him up against the truckâs container, then pushed his revolver right under his chin.
âWhenâs Black Maskâs next shipment?!â
âI donât fucking know!â
He clicked his gun. âI think you do.â
His filtered voice made everything a lot worse. The driver of a weapons cache truck he caught was trembling off his ass. His two other co-workers were lying dead on the ground. And when Red Hood squeezed his neck further, he gasped for air.
âTomorrow! At the docks!â
He slammed the butt of his gun right to his face. He fell to the ground, unconscious. And just because he had one bullet left to waste, the Red Hood shot his shoulder.
He jumped out the vehicle and stretched out his neck, closing the truck door while the driver continued to scream in pain. The police should be here soon. Heâll have to get out of there.
âHey there, bud.â
âFucking shit-â
The Red Hood, in just one swift move, reloaded his gun and aimed right at the top of the truck, at the black and blue figure crouched over staring at him.
âGet out of here.â
âI just want to talk, Jay.â
He wanted to shoot Nightwingâs smug little smirk right off his face. âI mean it.â
âI won't-â
Red Hood fired at the truckâs metal just an inch away from Nightwingâs leg.
âI won't miss next time.â
âJust listen to me-â
âFine. You wanna play that game, Grayson?â
He took his other gun strapped from his hip. Nightwing jumped off the truck before he started firing at his face.
Dodging the bullets, he started leaping circles around him, getting closer to where he was standing. Red Hood stopped firing, threw his guns to the ground, then charged for Nightwingâs leg just as he got close enough.
His larger figure stopped himself from tumbling to the ground when Nightwing landed a kick to his helmet. He growled, waited for him to pounce again, then Red Hood ducked under his leg, shot up quickly enough to land his powerful fist right against his chest.
Nightwing was down. He rolled to the floor, but resisted pulling out his escrima sticks. He wasnât here to beat him down. But obviously, Red Hood wasnât here to talk, either.
He ducked and blocked Red Hoodâs succeeding hits, almost rolling around the empty road. He kicked him in the stomach, then Red Hood headbutted him with his much stronger helmet.
âJason!â Nightwing blocked him with his arm. âThis is about Y/N!â
He stopped.
Then his helmet was about to melt at the immense heat his head was boiling to. âWHAT DID YOU SAY!?â
Nightwing leapt up to a pole. Red Hood grabbed his guns, reloaded them, then started firing.
âStop it!â
âFuck you!â
He kept firing at Nightwingâs body, backing off when he got too close. He was going to kill him. He wasnât getting out of this alive. Not tonight. Mentioning your name like that, itâs going to cost him his life.
âShe knows! About you!â
âYou fucking ASSHOLE.â
More. More bullets. Nightwing went into one of the alleys and jumped up the fire exits. Red Hood kept firing, the bullets bouncing through the walls. He climbed up the escape and chased after him.
âHOW THE FUCK DID SHE KNOW?â
âI told her!â
âoh, youâre dead, Grayson.â
They reached the rooftop, and Nightwing ran all the way to the other side of the ledge. Red Hood sprinted after him, opening fire. He didnât care where they landed. He wanted his body to put into the shock in the middle of jumping to another rooftop and fall to his death.
âShe wants to talk to you!â
âNOT A FUCKING CHANCE.â
âDonât you think she deserves to know what happened-â
âLEAVE HER OUT OF THIS, DICK.â
He made sure you never saw him alive. You thought he was dead. He was going to keep it that way.
Then he ran out of bullets, cursing beneath his breath, Red Hood threw his guns to the floor and chased him down.
When he caught him, he pinned him to the ground, grabbing him by his neck. âJay-â
âIâm going to kill you. Right now. You think Iâll hesitate?â
âDo you really want to break her heart again, asshole?â
âYou fucking-â Red Hood punched him in the face. Then Nightwing folded his legs up, pushed him with the heels of his feet, landing him on the ground. He placed his arm right against his neck.
âYou of all people can't lecture me on breaking hearts, you jackass.â
Red Hood punched him again, then got off the floor. Nightwing finally pulled out his escrima sticks, and Jason pulled out the last of his guns from his holsters and aimed it at Nightwingâs head.
They paused, stared each other down with their weapons in hand a yardâs distance away.
âJust⌠talk to her.â
âI can't believe you pulled her into this-â
âThis isnât about our little game. This is about you, Jay. And you need our help-â
He laughed. âSince when did I ask for your fucking help?â
âSince you killed almost a hundred people in Gotham in the last month-â
âThose arenât just people, you idiot. Theyâre Jokerâs men. Penguinâs. Two Faceâs. They all deserve to die.â
Nightwing tightened his grip on his sticks. âThen just talk to her. She deserves that. You of all people should know just how hurt she is.â
He clicked his gun. âMention her again, and Iâll blow your brains out.â
âSheâs waiting for you at the plaza. Behind the cathedral. Itâll just be you and her. Just let her talk to you-â
Just one pull of a trigger. And this son of a bitch dies for ever even speaking to you. Heâll fucking keep his word.
âYou think I donât know this is a trap? What, you, Bruce, and that fucking replacement will be waiting to ambush me in the dark?â
âNot this time. You have to believe me.â
He scoffed. âWhat are you trying to do? Change all this?â
âTrust me, I get it. You have no intention in mending anything with Bruce. But if you donât show up, itâll devastate her.â
âSheâll be fine. Trust me. She dealt with worse.â
âAnd you really want to subject her into that again?â
Deep, slow breaths. He lightly pulled the trigger, but Nightwing just skidded to the side and dodged him.
They heard something. Coming from below. Police sirens cleaning up the weapons truck.
Staring each other down, Nightwing and Red Hood slowly backed off. He hated him. All of them. His fucking family that never once cared for his ass, or felt any type of remorse for not being able to save him. The family that never thought to avenge him, set their morals aside to do whatâs actually right. They look down on what he does, and yet, heâs done more to control Gothamâs crime than Bruce ever had in his lifetime.
Red Hood set his gun down, then they both sprinted to opposite ends of the rooftops.
He was going to clean up their mess. Again.
-----
It ends tonight.
Everything. Your story. Your mourning. Your commitment to your dead, beloved high school boyfriend. Your unhealthy attachment to what could have been. Your reluctance to move on.
You realized, it all ends tonight.
No matter what happens, no matter how this all ends, everything was going to change.
If he doesnât show up, itâll pave the way for you to move forward, knowing that Jason, given the chance that seemed entirely impossible just a few weeks ago, had no intention of even speaking to you, let alone change for his own betterment. It should tell you to let him go, despite you not wanting to. Itâll tear your heart into shreds, more than it already was, but if he was alive, and he still wanted nothing to do with youâŚ
You just hoped that won't be the case. You still loved him. Endlessly.
And if he does show up, it could only end as well as you being able to convince him to stop with the killings, be his better self, be the Jason you knew he still was, and itâll go on from there. The miraculous dream you never thought to be true. Your loyalty to him, rewarded. And no longer will this life go on as if you were merely running in a slow, painful treadmill with no actual direction, other than to keep the promises Jason asked of you. Youâll have him back. As crazy as it still is, youâll actually have him back.
But that was the most wishful thinking you could do. Itâll almost never end that way.
But, no matter the outcome, if he changes or not, youâll finally come to the end of you dreaming about the past. Youâll know he was here. Alive.
That alone fixed some parts of your broken self.
So you got out of your car, walked out into the plaza where you told Dick youâll be waiting. Behind the Cathedral. Where there was no one around but trees and bushes. The next walkway was yards away, and there were almost no lampposts nearby. If what Dick said was true, and Jason would never try to hurt you, youâll still be safe.
You leaned against the wall, looked around at the vines eating up an old, wooden bench.
And you breathed. Long deep breaths.
You were going to see him. Finally.
Maybe your attachment to him was made for this. Because somehow, deep within you, you knew it wasnât over. You knew he wasnât completely gone. As hopeful as it was, it somehow came true.
Deep. Slow. Breaths.
An hour. Maybe an hour and a half. You waited.
You were going to have to be as patient as you could be.
What were you gonna say to him?
A lot of things. Punch him in the face. Scream at him for ever leaving you like that. Yell at him for idiotically going after the Joker by himself. Hug him. Kiss him.
Your mind was boggling. This was never what you signed up for.
But it was everything you could have hoped for.
Youâre seeing him again. Jason. Your love. Your first, and still love. Oh, how your heart warmed. You wanted his arms back. You wanted his lips back. You wanted-
Thud.
A noise.
Coming from the roof.
You stepped out from leaning against the wall. Nothing. Nothing above you.
Another thud. On the grass.
You looked around.
Your heart was thrashing hysterically in your ribcage.
âJason?â
You walked to the other side of the cathedralâs backside. But there wasnât so much as a squirrel around you.
Then.
Then.
You turned around.
There was a figure.
A large, dark figure, hiding in the shadows. By the trees. A few yards away from the building.
You narrowed your eyes, squinted to get a better look.
It was getting closer.
You wanted to back away, but you didnât. You were too frozen too move.
When it passed by a single ray of light from a faraway post, you saw it was a man in a dark, hooded jacket. With what looked like armor on his chest.
He got closer. Closer. Close enough for you to see the red bat symbol on his chest.
You took a step back.
He was huge. So fucking huge. This couldnât be him. Not by a mile.
You took another step back.
And when he got close enough so you could see the red helmet where his head was supposed to be, with white, glaring eyes looking back at you menacingly, you fumbled backing away until you ultimately hit the wall.
The Red Hood.
He walked to you until he was standing so close to your shivering body. You pressed yourself against the wall as much as you could. Your whole body thudding, your head swarming in panic. Your stomach was churching, much like it did when you were terrified beyond belief. You wanted to run away, but his helmet, his chilling red helmet, it stared you down so you couldnât even move. An inch away from your body, the Red Hood growled.
âStay⌠AwayâŚâ
You swallowed.
âJason?â
âDonât⌠Donât even try.â
âYou'reâŚâ you breathed out, your chest heaving. âYouâre really aliveâŚâ
He just stared at you, not giving you any chance to move. You were stuck, pressed against the wall, as you stared at him in disbelief.
âHow much do you know?â
You were stuttering. Your shaking mouth forced you to. Youâve never been so scared in your life. âA lotâŚâ
The Red Hood slightly turned his head to the side.
You wanted to see him. Really see him. His face⌠without thinking, you reached up to his helmet.
He pushed your hands away, and you gulped, backing off.
âWhatever it is you're trying to do, stop it. Itâs not going to work.â
âI just want to talk-â
âAbout what? What are you possibly hoping for?â
âWhy didnât you come to me?â you whispered. âWhy didnât you see me first? You have no idea-â
âYou think you want to see this?â
He pointed at his chest. âThis isnât what you think it is. Iâm not who you fucking think I am.â
Of course he isnât. You didnât expect him to.
âYou have no idea how much I wanted thisâŚâ
âThis isnât what you want. Trust me. Far from it.â
Eyes stuck to his helmet, where his own eyes were supposed to be, you didnât know what you wanted to say.
âI want to talk to you. I know about what you do⌠and I still do-â
âForget about all this okay? As far as you know, Iâm still dead.â
This time, as scared as you were, you wanted to punch him.
âDo- do you have any idea how much you hurt me?â
He didnât answer.
âYou fucking donât.â
âI wouldnât talk that way to someone with three guns on him.â
âGo ahead. Shoot me. Kill me. If you insist thatâs what you are.â
You saw his shoulders rise, his breath deepened. You bit your lips, and you stepped closer to him. You craned your head up his much taller figure.
âWhat do you expect out of this?â
âI just want to talkâŚâ
âAbout what?â
His filtered voice. There was barely anything of the Jason you knew. You couldnât see his face. His whole body grew more than four sizes larger. You couldnât hear his voice. It was so hard trying to be gentle to someone who just looked terrifying to look at.
âStay away from me.â
âNo,â you said. âTake that mask off and look at me.â
âListen,â he walked towards you and pushed you against the wall. âI donât know what you want. You want us to talk? And what do you want out of that? Something more?â he scoffed.
Your mouth turned dry. You wanted to kick him in the groin until heâll barely be able to walk.
âYou left me,â you whispered. âWhen you said you never would.â
âWe broke up-â
âYou. Left me.â you hissed. âYou have no ideaâŚâ
He stopped, looking to the side at the wall behind you.
âYou shouldâve moved on-â
âFuck you.â
Tears. Angry tears. They wanted to seep out. He stepped back. âIf you know whatâs good for you, forget about all this-â
âI can't believe this is how you are after you fucking died and left me to grieve you for three years-â
âDeal with it. Iâm not who you fucking think I am.â
And, as it seems, you started to believe him.
This was a cold, heartless villain. The Red Hood. His helmet, his voice, his body. None of it was Jason anymore.
âI just want to talk⌠PleaseâŚâ
He shook his head, not even giving you another glance. The Red Hood turned away from you and walked out into the trees until you couldnât see him anymore.
You cried too much for him. Far too much.
So you didnât this time. You let yourself slowly realize this was how things ended.
Your phone rang.
âY/N?â
You breathed. âHe won't talk to meâŚâ
âItâs alright. We did what we could. I can come up there and-â
âCan I be alone? Please? Iâm going home.â
âOf course. Iâm really sorryâŚâ
You hang up.
----
It felt like it was about to rain, even when there wasnât a cloud in the sky.
You went up to your bed, folded your knees up your chest and stared blankly at the cold, empty floor. It was back. All over again. The same loss when they told you he died. That wasnât Jason you talked to. Far from it.
There was no trace of his sweet, comforting voice, of his handsome face that lit up any room he was in. His arms, now twice as large as they used to be, they didnât give off that soothing rush that calmed down all your nerves when heâd pull you into his chest. His voice, it was far from some fucking robotic filter that hurt your ears. You hated every part of it. You hated that helmet. You hated what he became.
Jason was still dead. He wasnât coming back.
You hoped far too much of what was impossible to ask for. Because whatever that was, the Red Hood⌠You didnât know what you were even expecting. That wasnât your boyfriend. He couldnât be.
You wanted to see the Jason who smiled bashfully when he saw you walk down the steps of your apartment, the one who stuffed his hands in his pockets, eyes glistening as he stared lovingly at you. You wanted the guy who wanted to see you every day of the week, miss you on the days when he wasnât and push everything to the side just to spend every minute he had with you. The one so obsessed with you that he couldnât possibly ask you to stay away, or ever make you feel like he didnât want to see you at all. You didnât like feeling so unwanted.
You hoped, with that tiny part of you that still had it, that he would have met you, looking exactly the same way he did before he died, and pull you into his arms. The dramatic part of you wanted to run to him, and heâd run to you, and youâd crash into an embrace for hours and hours until heâll ultimately pull away to kiss you.
And instead, you got a red helmeted asshole who told you to stay the fuck away from him.
You clenched your fists, shutting your eyes.
That part of him should still be alive. A part of him should still be loving you as you knew he did. He followed you around, didnât he? He protected you.
How could he⌠after all you went through just to hold on to him⌠this is how he treats youâŚ
Thud.
You reached for your scissors you had stashed beside your bed. There was someone in your fire escape, standing like a brick wall.
A tall man, face hidden by the shadows of his red hoodie. He stared at you, but he wasnât moving.
Your hands left your scissors.
You knew exactly who it was. You stepped off the bed.
Your heart was pounding so hard within your chest, you thought of running out of your room. But he didnât look like how he did a while ago. His head was down, almost like he was looking at the ground.
You walked to your window and slid the glass open.
You still couldnât see his face. The shadows were too dark.
All the emptiness, the darkness, all that consumed you, it was all finally starting to fade out. When you saw how he didnât have any weapons on him, no armor, no helmet, this was what you thought to see.
You let out a broken, trembling breath as you climbed out into the fire escape, facing the man closer and closer. He slightly backed away, but his back hit the railing. You stood in front of him, frightened, but not enough to run away.
He flinched when he started for his hoodie, but you didnât back off. Your nerves were on fire but you wanted to rid the shadows, finally see him as you never thought you ever could again after all those years.
Gulping, he leaned in.
You took off the hoodie.
The same black hair that fell down to his forehead, slight curls that tickled his skin. His jaw, angular and strong. His lips, chapped and scarred. His eyes, that deep, bright blue so beautiful that it tore through you and looked right into your soul. They looked through you so woefully, hurt, broken.
And scars. One that tore through his eyebrow, one on the corner of his lip, and one on his cheek.
You breathed, and a single tear fell down your face.
It was him.
Undeniably.
It was him.
It was Jason.
Heâs here.
You clutched to his neck, both your arms pulling him so tightly to you that you swore youâll never let go again. Oh, his warmth. His body. He was here. He was actually here. You stuck your face into his shoulder, holding onto him so hard that youâll kill him if he even tried to move away.
Jason.
Jason.
Jason.
âOh godâŚâ you cried. âItâs youâŚâ
And you could feel just how much he wanted to pull away. He was meaning to. But fuck him. You werenât about to. His muscles tensed. His breath hitched. You could feel his chest stiffen-
Then,
You felt his incredibly strong arms around you.
And you sobbed. Silently. Not so much with tears but with your broken breaths, your shaking arms. He stuck his face into your hair and breathed in. Yes. This was Jason. This was definitely him.
You could hardly believe anyone could be risen from the dead. You saw him in his coffin. His lifeless body, white and cold. And he was here, back with the same exact warmth and life. He looked different, there was no denying that.
But the moment you looked into his eyes, you knew it was him.
âJayâŚâ
He tightened his hold on you.
âY/NâŚâ
And you cried even more. That voice. The same that said your name in the most beautiful way he possibly could in that voice message you listened to over and over again. Heâs here. Heâs really here.
Your hands on his face, you pulled away so you could look at him more.
And he looked like he was about to cry as well. The light from your room, it shone perfectly on his face. Every detail, you could revel in. His hands squeezed your shoulders and you pressed your forehead tightly against his.
You wanted to kiss him so badlyâŚ
He closed his eyes, but you didnât. You kept looking at him, watching how his face moved.
Jason took your hands, gripped them tightly by the wrist,
Then pulled you away.
âUhm,â he cleared his throat, taking his hands off from you and stuffing them back to his pockets. âI came to talk. Like you wantedâŚâ
He looked to the ground. And reluctantly, you backed away.
You leaned against the railing beside him and crossed your arms.
âI donât know where to startâŚâ
Jason turned to you. âHow are you?â
You had so many things to say. You could blurt out all your thoughts and you wouldnât be able to stop. But you settled yourself, calmed your mind.
âIâm not so sure myself.â
âSchool?â
âEnding my third year. I went to arts collegeâŚâ
âYeah⌠I know. You like it?â
You nodded. âI doâŚâ
You desperately wanted to hold him again, but you just kept to your shoulders lightly brushing.
âHow âbout you?â
âHorrible. Thanks for asking.â
You shook your head. You wanted to chuckle, but you werenât sure thatâd be the best thing to do.
âJay, what happened-â
âYou really donât want to knowâŚâ
âI deserve to know, donât you think?â
Jason turned around, placed his hands on the railing and looked down onto the alley. You did the same, but your eyes were locked on him.
âSomething happened. Some reality altering shindig in the cosmos. Ripples, as you might say. Iâm not so sure myself. It caused a lot of weird shit to happen. Including me. I woke up in that coffin and climbed my way out.â
You swallowed.
âSomehow, the al Ghulâs found me and nursed me back to health. They put me in the Lazarus pit-you know what that is, donât you?â
âI have an idea.â
âAnyway,â he continued. âThey let me spend time in the League. Some sort of brainwash, but I got over it after a while. I went around different cities in Jersey, then I got to Gotham. You know the rest.â
You looked down at the empty alleyway with him. And you didnât have much to say. You could tell he didnât want to be consoled.
âWell, you certainly changed.â
He looked out into the rooftops. There wasnât any wind, so nothing was blowing into his hair. You watched his face so raw, a matured version of what he once was. But it was still him.
âArenât you gonna ask what happened to me?â
His lips went through his teeth, gritting as his muscles tensed.
âI listen to your message. All the time.â
You didnât think heâd be so shocked, but he was.
âIt sent?â
âWhat do you think?â
Jason pursed his lips, shutting his eyes so he couldnât look at you.
âI kept your promisesâŚâ
You held your hands together, and you stared at them. âI went to college for you. I changed. A lot. Iâve been singing for events around the city a lot.â
He nodded. âYeah. I watched you a few times.â
You breathed out. Slowly.
âNot all of them, though.â
Jason looked at you, and you looked back at him.
âI couldnât move onâŚâ
âFuckâŚâ he cursed. âY/N-â
âI can't.â
âItâs been three fucking yearsâŚâ
Your heart just shattered at the way he as looking at you now.
âI havenât even talked to another guy. Not one date. I wouldnât let them. I told themâŚâ You shouldnât tell him, but you really wanted to. âI told them I was still with you-â
âFucking hell.â He stuffed his face into his hands. âI can't believe youâŚâ
You choked. âI lost you!â
âYou should have let me goâŚâ
âI can't!â
You held his shoulder, but he flinched away.
âWhyâŚâ you cried. âWhy this? Iâve done nothing but mourn for you-â
âI wanted you to live your fucking life!â
You turned away, and Jason looked at the streets by the building, at the empty cars and leaves stuck on the road.
âI wanted you to move onâŚâ
You never once thought youâd have this conversation. Not in your life. âI couldnât think of it.â
Jason closed his eyes, and you hugged yourself despite the heat. Your throat wanted to climb out of your neck. And your uneasy breaths, it choked you.
Jason let out a strong breath and looked at you.
âYou know what I didnât tell you in that message?â
âNoâŚâ
He leaned over the railings, elbows on the metal. He closed his eyes.
âI wanted to tell you that if I ever got out of that place alive, Iâll do everything-everythingÂ-I possibly could to get you backâŚâ
You looked up at the sky. Something stung in your heart.
âBut I didnât. I didnât want to put you in a terrible place. Whether I got out of it or I didnât, I just wanted you to find what you were really looking forâŚâ
âI want you...â
âY/NâŚâ
âI still doâŚâ
âYou donât,â he choked. âWe were kids-â
âFuck you, is that what you really think?â
He breathed through his mouth, looking at almost everything around but you.
âThis was a bad ideaâŚâ
He started for the stairs. And you watched him, feeling him tear your heart out all over again. Just like the first time.
âJay⌠PleaseâŚâ
Just as he took the first step, he stopped when you held his face.
He didnât pull away. In fact, he leaned into them.
âDonât leave me againâŚâ
âY/N,â he bit his lip, leaning closer to you but not close enough to kiss you. âYou donât want thisâŚâ
âI doâŚâ
âNo-â
âWhy not?â
âIâm not bringing you into this. You donât know who I am anymore.â
âYou're worth itâŚâ
âY/NâŚâ
You brushed his cheek with your thumb. He was about to cry, and you, with your tears already falling, you whispered.
âYou are the love of my lifeâŚâ
He closed his eyes, let you hold his face a bit tighter.
âDo you really want me to forget about you?â
Your breath shaking, it hurt like the world stepped on you when he slowly nodded. âI can't let you hold on to me any longerâŚâ
Everything. It hurt ten times more than you ever thought it could. You never could have thought this would happen.
âJust give me a few days with you⌠PleaseâŚâ
âY/N, no-â
âPlease,â you gulped. âIâve been wanting To just...hold you... for so long. I never thought Iâd get to anymore. And now, you're actually here. The cosmos. Whatever brought you back, they sent you here. and if you really⌠If I can't spend the rest of my life with you anymore, just give me a few days⌠Please just give me thatâŚâ
Jason finally looked up at your eyes, shaking. His eyebrows were up to his forehead, and he looked so terribly beautiful.
âPlease⌠and I swear, Iâll forget about us. Iâll finally move on. You never have to see me againâŚâ
Jason⌠Your beautiful, perfect JasonâŚ
He took your hands off of his face.
And you turned around before you hurt yourself even more watching him leave you for the second time.
You faced out the building, at the empty sky, then you shut your eyes close before it sank in that this was the reality you had to face. Another nightmare. Just when you thought you could handle it.
You heard Jasonâs voice, light and subtle.
âThree daysâŚâ
You turned around.
âIâll see you tomorrow.â
He almost jumped down the fire exit, disappearing before he could possibly change his mind.
-----
I DONâT HATE YOU - MASTERLIST
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everyartistwas-firstanamateur  @sarcasmismyfirstlove @damned-queen-of-gotham @idkmanicantenglish @wunderstell @birdy-bat-riya @get-loki@everyday-imfangirling @comic-nerd-dc @multifandoms916 @icequeen208@offendedfishnoises @egdolan @xemiefx @arkhamtoddler @elsenthal@mythicbitchx @supremehaunter @ burning-alive  @lucy-roo  roseangel013bf @ loxbbg  reclusive-chicken-nuggethttp-cherries shadowsndaisiesriver9noble zphilophobiazannoylinglyaries @knightfall05x @l-horizon11
#jason todd x reader#jason todd#red hood x reader#jason todd angst#red hood angst#batarella#batarella fluff#batarella angst#i don't hate you series#i don't hate you#jason todd x reader series#jason todd reader insert#batarella series
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May I please ask if the Sexton Blake is a 20th Century heir to Sherlock Holmes? (I recall reading about him once, but am not quite clear on the details); ALSO - Might I please ask if you have any thoughts on G.E. Challenger, Conan Doyle's other Great Adventurer?
He very much was the other Great Detective following Holmes. Calling him a 20th Century heir is not entirely accurate because he debuted in 1893, but interestingly, Blake debuted in pretty much the exact same year as the publication of The Final Problem, the famous story where Arthur Conan Doyle tried destroying his arch-enemy Sherlock Holmes once and for all. The timelines line up almost exactly: Holmes gets âkilled offâ in 1893, Sexton Blake debuts the very same year, and Holmes only comes back in publication in 1901.Â
Thing is though, while today he looks basically indistinguishable from Holmes, Blake was both Holmesâs successor as well as Holmesâs competition, the more popular counterpart in his time who didnât get to endure as an icon in the long term. Like Nick Carter, Blake is one of those characters who kept changing over the years according to the changing audience tastes, and was extremely successful for a long time, but nowadays lacks much of a consistent identity because of it. For the first 20 or so years of his publication, he was mostly an imitation of 19th century detective characters, particularly Jules Gervaise in the early years, and Holmes.Â
During this time period, Nick Carter and Sherlock Holmes were the most imitated detectives worldwide. Iâve read conflicting reports on which exactly was âTheâ most imitated, so I canât state for certain, but Iâd guess Nick Carter, because after Street & Smith canned Nick Carter Weekly, and WW1 put a stop to everyoneâs schedules, the Great Detective who became most prominent worldwide after the war was Sexton Blake, because they turned him into the British Nick Carter. Intelligent and taciturn and detective-y enough to be like Holmes, but less misanthropic, less depressive and less professor-y, and much, much more defined by action and adventure and his varied fistcuffs with a rogues gallery of over-the-top supervillains. In fact, much like Dick Tracy, itâs those supervillains who seemed to have ultimately had the longer-lasting presence in pop culture.
Blake stayed the most imitated detective worldwide throughout the post-WW1 years, although nowadays it seems that the only place he retains anything resembling his former popularity is in Britain. Compared to Holmesâs 60 or so stories, Blake had 4,000 stories, written by about 200 authors. In the 1930s particularly, he was The Baker Street Detective. Although The Sexton Blake Library ran from 1915 to 1968, fans usually point to the 1919-1945 period as the Golden Age.Â
His popularity died off in WW2 and they tried to keep him relevant in the following years by reverting to what the character was doing before, imitating others. They tried making him a Bond type in the 60s, and apparently some of the latest stories to feature the character compare him to Jack Reacher. But of course none of this panned out and nowadays the character stays completely obscure, mostly remembered nowadays because of the pop culture splash of Michael Moorecock's medieval Zenith fanfic. Fiction takes the strangest turns sometimes.Â
Oh I LOVE Professor Challenger. I actually like him a lot more than Holmes, both in terms of the adventures he gets up to as well as his personality. The Lost World was one of the first books I read, dinosaur-maniac I was, and since I only read it for the dinosaurs I didnât think much of Challenger other than he was an asshole, a big dumb brutish jerk who should stop bothering the dinosaurs I empathized with more. Nowadays when I read it, upon further consideration...he still is a big, dumb, smelly brute who should really stop poking his nose where it doesnât belong, and I still want the dinosaurs to eat him most of the time, but man, what an asshole he is:
His appearance made me gasp. I was prepared for something strange, but not for so overpowering a personality as this. It was his size which took oneâs breath awayâhis size and his imposing presence. His head was enormous, the largest I have ever seen upon a human being. I am sure that his top-hat, had I ever ventured to don it, would have slipped over me entirely and rested on my shoulders. He had the face and beard which I associate with an Assyrian bull; the former florid, the latter so black as almost to have a suspicion of blue, spade-shaped and rippling down over his chest. The hair was peculiar, plastered down in front in a long, curving wisp over his massive forehead.Â
The eyes were blue-gray under great black tufts, very clear, very critical, and very masterful. A huge spread of shoulders and a chest like a barrel were the other parts of him which appeared above the table, save for two enormous hands covered with long black hair. This and a bellowing, roaring, rumbling voice made up my first impression of the notorious Professor Challenger.
He is a primitive cave-man in a lounge suit. I can see him with a club in one hand and a jagged bit of flint in the other. Some people are born out of their proper century, but he is born out of his millennium. He belongs to the early neolithic or thereabouts... It's the greatest brain in Europe, with a driving force behind it that can turn all his dreams into facts. They do all they can to hold him back, for his colleagues hate him like poison, but a lot of trawlers might as well try to hold back the Berengaria. He simply ignores them and steams on his way.
This is absolutely not the kind of character you create to be the protagonist or hero of your adventure novel, or what usually comes to mind when you think of a paleonthologist character. This is the kind of over-the-top cartoon villain who decides heâs gonna hang King Kongâs head above his fireplace just because, or bulldoze a forest full of cute talking animals to build a golf course in it, so he can cackle at their misfortune with a big flaming cheroot in his mouth. He is conceited, brash, obnoxious, loud, condescending, more ape than man at points, and also just happens to be an incredible genius, scientist and adventurer and ultimately heroic man who you have no choice but to listen to when on an adventure with.
Also he hates journalists to the point of attacking them on sight and once stabbed Earth hard enough for it to wake up, and he repeteadly brushes off encounters with things that, on other stories, would be mind-breaking revelations of eldritch terror, that he just doesnât give a shit about because heâs Professor Challenger and heâs too big and stupid and smart and bold to let anything get in the way of adventure.Â
Heâs a perfect character and a perfect example of what makes pulp heroes stand out, as as much as I like Bob Hoskins, itâs a great crime to this world that Brian Blessed never got to play the character on a major adaptation (then again, he loves the book and character so much that he all but became a real life Professor Challenger, which is the kind of devotion we can all aspire to).Â
#replies tag#pulp heroes#sexton blake#arthur conan doyle#pulp fiction#professor challenger#the lost world
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finally beat all the ds3 bosses solo the other day so hereâs a buncha shitty cell phone pics i sent to my friend to brag
build was a regen faith build 44/40 VIG/END, 28/16 STR/DEX, 60 FAITH. rings were Sun Princess, FAP, Havel, and Chloranthy (all +3 for Midir/Gael). i used Blessed Lothric Knight Greatsword for Soul of Cinder, with Ancient Dragon Greatshield offhand, Sunlight Straight Sword + ADGS vs Nameless King, and the Blessed Dragonslayer Axe/Ethereal Oak Shield you see in the pics vs everyone else.
hereâs my review of the 5 hardest bosses:
1. Soul of Cinder: 9/10
fun fight, the super varied movesets were really thematic. loses a point cos if you arenât familiar with previous gamesâ lore this is kind of an âokay i guess there had to be a final bossâ type of fight. like great gameplay but Cindy has 0 story build-up in ds3
2. Nameless King: -100/10 first phase, 7/10 second phase
overhyped garbage fight. hate playing camera souls phase 1, hate that youâre encouraged to bring lightning for the drakeâs weakness and then punished for it phase 2, and i hate his janky stab-grab hitbox.
âheâs got a super varied movesetâ okay but he doesnât if you do the typical âsuck dick and smack bootyâ ds3 boss strategy; the fight is just swing swing punish for 2 minutes straight. donât get me wrong i love ds3 gameplay and iâm here for that but the way ppl talk about NK i was expecting something better than a trashfire phase 1 followed by a phase 2 that is IMO subpar when compared to Dragonslayer Armor or Cindy for âbig dude with swordâ fights.
i wonât be fighting NK on any NG+s i think. phase 1 is that unfun, so itâs probably a 1/character fight to get his sick fashion and maybe that swordspear
3. Sister Friede: 9/10
first phase is fun as hell once you get the hang of it, phase 2 is a bit meh and really why she isnât 10/10, phase 3 is terrifying and so satisfying to beat. not much to say here. Friede and Cindy are both very nearly that platonic dark souls ideal of a boss that feels impossibly hard until you learn their moves and realize how fair (yet challenging) the fight is.
4. Midir: 10/10 potential, 7/10 practical
i love midirâs moveset and heâs the dragon fight of my dreams. you know how a lot of video games do dragon fights but they donât do a good job of actually showcasing what itâs like to fight a five-storey tall crocodile that can breathe fire and fly? midir falls (omg spoiler) a lil short on the flying department but nails everything else.
the thing is, heâs a health sponge. thisâd be my favourite fight in the game if he had about 2000 less HP but as is, heâs a bit too much of an endurance fight. which takes away from the sheer terror of a well done dragon - there should be more of an element of âtake him down fast or dieâ. endurance fight removes that tension and makes it more of a âsomersaulting arsehole teases animal for ten minutes before delivering a brutal headshotâ kind of tone. midir also gives a surprising amount of space for you to heal for a battle thatâs considered the hardest in the game, which removes the tension of an endurance fight - youâre not outlasting a series of deadly combos, youâre using your own massive HP pool to marathon 200 hits into midirâs noggin
5. Gael: 6/10
iâm probably never going to fight gael again but he does score a lot of points for
a) having each phase be more of an awe-inspiring âoh shit oh fuckâ moment than the last
b) making me nearly piss myself when i passed through the fog gate for the first time and was like âhuh this a weird spot for the gateâ and then see him just fucking sprinting at me
c) literally saying âitâs always darkest before the soul!â like what a fucking funny line for the final boss of the series
anyways heâs got the same issue as midir where itâs a sastisfyingly difficult fight made frustratingly much harder by an inflated HP pool. even once i got phase 1 & 2 relatively down, he was such a slog that my mistakes would just pile up for phase 3. i know i donât have this complaint for Friede who has a similar size HP pool but sheâs not an endurance slog - she can get comboâd down fast phase 1, and phase 2 is so full of free hits that sheâs effectively 5000 HP less than her written total. you donât spend the entire fight dodging around being like âokay⌠whereâs my one hit openingâŚâ which is fun to do sometimes! just not for the entirety of an extremely long fight
outside of HP bloat, teleporting into phase 2 feels janky and basically having to use the pillars to create space for estus and buffs reduces an epic fight into cheesy videogame moments. i also literally did not realize that his cape hurts you because that makes no fucking sense. i thought he just had janky hit boxes until i looked up a video on how to beat him
fun as hell game overall tho time to finish my pyro, sorc, and ranger playthroughs
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Cinder vs Adam
Fair warning: This isnât a theory post about a Cinder vs Adam fight lol. Because we all know Cinder would win right?
So I love Cinder... Shock and awe I know. And I hate Adam, as most do and should. But why do I love Cinder and hate Adam? Theyâre actually pretty similar in terms of their attributes as villains. Both are liars, manipulators, and murderers who only seek power above all. They both have an obsession with a member, or members, of Team RWBY, Ruby for Cinder and Blake and Yang, mainly Blake, for Adam. And theyâre both skilled fighters with swords and/or bladed weapons... A smaller similarity but still a similarity.
So again, why do I love Cinder, and hate Adam? The difference lies in their actions and personalities. Cinder is always confident in her plans, even when WE know it ainât gonna end well, you may say that just makes her delusional. I disagree. I think sheâs earned her confidence. She devised the plan defeat Amber by herself, without Salemâs help besides the beetle, claimed half of the Maiden powers, defeated and killed a world renowned fighter, and brought about the Fall of Beacon. All that was orchestrated by her, by herself. She ONLY started to slip when she got blasted by Rubyâs Silver Eyes. And THEN she started to lose herself.
Adam on the other hand has always been a fuckin... mess. Weâve never seen anything that makes us feel sympathy for Adam, we only saw his SDC brand, which, yes, horrible. But... be honest did you REALLY think âAww poor Adam...â Or was it âOh heâs just showing it to make Blake feel bad .-. What a dick >_>â. The only time we see him as âGoodâ is the Black Trailer. And I mean even then..... heâs actively stealing cargo off a train and is fully prepared to kill the crew members, who did literally nothing đś. Hell! He even got his OWN character trailer. If they WANTED to portray Adam as a sympathetic villain, THIS was their chance to do so. But uh... They kinda didnât. They just showed us more of what we already knew. That Adam is a sociopath, a murderer, and a manipulator who clings DESPERATELY to his grudge against humanity.
Cinder, in comparison, didnât start to lose herself and go crazy until AFTER she miscalculated and underestimated someone she viewed as beneath her. Also ANOTHER similarity between Cinder and Azula .-. How do I keep finding these I swear I didnât write that with the intention of finding another Cinzula parallel ._. Awesome stuff :3
ANYWAY Adam is emotional as FUUUUCK, and he always has been. Adamâs emotions donât let him think clearly. Because like I said in my 2nd hot take post, if Adam WASNâT deranged in any way, he would been able to beat the Bees. But because he was blinded by his rage, he was sloppy. Cinder, prior to volume 5 Iâll say, never showed her emotions. She was cool, calm, and collected. For the most part lol. But even WHEN she shows her emotions, you FEEL something. Be it âHaha you deserve it bitch >_>â Or âPoor thing...âÂ
Take her ENTIRE backstory. Like with Adam, thatâs the only time weâve seen Cinder as sympathetic. Intentionally anyway lol. And with Cinderâs backstory, there was a WHOLE shift in how the fandom viewed Cinder. Before liking Cinder was something of an oddity but now there are more people who DO like her and new people in the I Stan Cinder club. If you are a new member of the I Stan Cinder club welcome and I hope you got your free cookies :3. Anyway, before Cinder wasnât much of a discussion topic besides âOh. Cinder relies on her maiden powers too much. She should stop relying on them as much as she does >_>â or âCinder mistreats her allies. She should stop <_<â Which, both are true lol. But like... I dunno now with her back story revealed, thereâs more INTERESTING discussion around her with like what could have been if Rhodes was around more or if he didnât try and turn her in, people noticing how her sword in volume 5 was identical to Rhodesâ sword, a new debate of if Cinder SHOULD have killed her family or tried to wait just a little longer until she could take the huntsman exam.Â
Adamâs character short...... didnât do any of that .-. if anything it showed us MORE reasons to hate him. Hell, Iâd watch that trailer more for Sienna Khan. If it were a Sienna trailer? Iconic. Okay, fine, Iâll be a little bit more fair. We DID see the start of the Grimm masks... But that doesnât make ADAM interesting.... It makes TRAILER interesting. Besides we kinda already knew Adam started from Blake back in volume 2. We saw that Adam was fully prepared to kill people, and when he was praised for it by Sienna and the other Faunus around him, it only increased his desire to spread this method of intimidation even more. And that... is not... Good >_>. In my opinion, Cinderâs backstory did it better. You can say it felt outta place if you want, but you have to admit it WAS a damn good sequence. The contrast between Cinderâs life in Mistral, being pushed around and punished when she DOES stand up for herself. Compared to the sheer hope and AWE on her face when she arrives at the hotel, thinking her dreams are about to come true, only to find out that sheâs only going from one environment of abuse to another. We FEEL for her naturally through out the whole thing. To the point that MOST of us consider Rhodes, the huntsman who WAS doing his job, the bad guy.
In conclusion: Cinder is a complex character with a tragic backstory full of abuse and a lack of power. Adam... Iâm just gonna say it, is a brat >_> Heâs used to getting what he wants, from Sienna and the other faunus in the white fang, from Blake, heâs USED to getting praise for the horrible things he does and when he DOES get called out, heâs used to being able to talk himself out of those situations or BEING talked out of those situations. When he DOESNâT get what he wants, he basically just throws a massive temper tantrum. Iâm not saying Cinder doesnât have her own share of temper tantrums, she does lol. But they come from a more... I dunno how to explain it, you just UNDERSTAND where sheâs coming from. I do anyway.
#RWBY#RWBY3#RWBY5#RWBY8#Cinder#Cinder Fall#Adam Taurus#Siddy Rambles#Siddy Rants#RWBY analysis#Cinzula#with how much I bring up Cinder and Azula parallels even unintentionally#may as well make a tag for it lol#Rhodes (RWBY)#Azula
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My Dean Blunt Rotation aka High Fidelity Left A Bad Taste in My Mouth
For the past 2 to 3 months, my listening habits were teetering to an end; mostly via burnout by spontaneously listening to local artists daily and less likely of a musical discovery drought, whereas my interests of a certain artist or genre hasn't found its, sort of, "eureka", moment per se. I've been feeling less enthusiastic over the things i listen to since my friends have gradually lost their flare when it comes to discovering/exploring untapped parts of the music realm. Thus, in return, my enthusiasm not being reciprocated. It leaves an empty feeling from someone who has been yearning social interaction, may it be media being latched on the topic - it's a feeling that's been guilt-tripping me ever since I was stranded in the other end of the metro. I feel closed off, exposed to the crippling loneliness the lockdown has punished us: a defacto solitary confinement in a national level. Our act of staying online is also an act of staying alive outside.
To be fair though, it's a valid move to not boomerang compliments/gripes over an art you haven't consumed due to someone's autonomy. Your able body being to consume the art you wish to finish with free time is a luxury in of itself. The art is then failed to serve its purpose to reach its goal: You have squiggly lines heading straight to oblivion rather than swirling in the earlobes of a wandering cyber nomad. We, eventually, need to find something that could help us exit, rather than escape, from capital. We, in return, do not shut ourselves from the outside. Instead, we then tend to avoid the stress of protocols and outdoor fascism; Not avoid the indoor liberalism that is eating us alive and online. It's a capital punishment we never knew we signed up for ever since the onslaught of the virus and the state. Art for art's sake is nonexistent now, always has been, it seizes to ever since we went inside. Feeding off of a holographic meatloaf coming from a glowing screen. We have a real-life Karen acting as a nightlight in our rooms.
The COVID lockdown made us listen to music â both for better, for worse. For one, it made us pass most days. You could say the same for any sort of media: film, mixed media art, or whatever pre-Covid activity that sprung up during our time in isolation. For music, however, there was an uptick of new listeners that made others Wheel-of-Fortune the fuck out of their music discoveries in sites like RateYourMusic, Bandcamp, or even Sophie's Floorboard. We've continued to expand and became more open change of opinions and be less of a jackass towards someone else's opinions. On second thought, our opinions have been catalogued, leaving more notes than actual footprints of our previous listens. Our new discoveries made new bands and re-emerging bands, bands who faded to obscurity, crawl back in the surface with newfound interest from younger listeners (ie Panchiko, Jai Paul, and Dean Blunt) and this glowing, previously unseen and unexpected overwhelming support from fans of departed artists (ie SOPHIE, MF DOOM)
For the other, we've hogged gratuitous amounts of media, resulting into losing our primary direction as to how we want to consume our media based on the preconceived notions of what we want in our art. There is goodness in becoming directionless when you think about it, but there comes a cost to our identity as music listeners. Instead, we end up widening our tangents, falling in endless rabbit holes, having zero chances to emerge from the surface. In fact, i refuse to call it a "rabbit hole" instead i'd rather call it a "pipeline" of sorts â transitioning casual music fans into a full on, different, unique versions of themselves that would define them when laws and protocols have eased in the outside world. Our act of staying online has either made most of us break our character or enliven our past selves. The music pipeline is now more apparent, stretching the norms of what was once alienated by a silent majority, but now accepted as an acceptable form of expression. The more music we are exposed to has made casual listeners stranged out or react in ways that our personality have betrayed us or deemed not as acceptable to them. Still, not changing anything that was prominent pre-pandemic. Liberal cop behavior is stronger, now more dangerous than it ever was once perceived by the outside world.
HIGH FIDELITY? NO, THANK YOU.
Imagine a situation inside of a record, pre-pandemic of course, where you do not feel like lifting a record out from the shelf, instead, you window shop just for the sake of windowshopping. Capital and media made us think that going to record shops is a semi-productive activity. The age of discovery has died ever since High Fidelity romanticized and normalized the incelage of horny record diggers. Does this movie age well, yeah sure it does, for old 90s nerds at least. But did it translate well over in the past 20 or more years of events and tragedies that unfolded in pre-9/11 America? No it didn't. It was an age of free expression, only liberals would dream of whenever they take a sip of Guinness beer in their favorite dive bar.
Mind you, over a couple of months ago, it was my only chance in seeing why this movie was the talk of the town back when it was released. There's music, yeah, and attractive leading leadies, yeah, it has everything a 90s kid would love to salivate and drop their gonads over while they watch this movie. I obviously did not live to see the movie on opening day but i could imagine the scent that came out of that movie theater with attendees donning windbreakers and The Who shirts with popcorn dressing stains on their plastic cups. If there was a Filipino counterpart to this movie, i'd bet corporate champions Eraserheads and Rivermaya would soundtrack their music over and have either Tado or have Boy 2 Quizon, but i sense it to age like milk more than it could age like fine wine due to the senseless jokes one can execute in a Cubao or Cartimar record store.
John Cusack is obviously the incel in question here: a damaged, vengeful ex who constantly fails to live his partner's expectations and weaponizes his personality over the situations that has nothing to do with his interests. I spent the entire time being absolutely disgusted over the spineless responses of John Cusack's leading character. The movie then treads on flashbacks with John Cusack's failed relationships and what he could do to move on from each and one of them. If i could stand a SONA for 3 hours then I can't stand John Cusack being the dull entry point to incel, making more reasons why you should hate record store clerks who don't give an iota of shits to someone's inviting rapport. High Fidelity is opium for massive music circle jerks who can't take a single breathe of fresh air or a single quota of touching grass. There's more targeting weak and inferior guys and hot women who dump dumb overconfident dudebros more than the actual "music recs" in the entire movie. The more I think about this movie, the more I realize how our personality is in line towards Dick, the record store being unmercifully dunked on by the movie's two leading characters. He's an angel in the world of cynical bastards, witnessing both demons pitchforking record store customers in the ass while they're purchasing the latest Sonic Youth album.
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I believe that Jack Black, the dark horse of High Fidelity, has a pleasing personality more than an irritating demeanor due to this behavior in the record store. In fact, outside of the record store, Jack Black doesn't seem to take the business is your pleasure act pretty seriously. Unlike John Cusack's character he brought his obsession over involving a record in an important memory/point of his life. There is so much stuff that has happened outside of the record store, so much for Rolling Stone and NME being the bible of music at the time, endlessly christening and shilling artists that believe to become the second coming of the Beatles. The music references here however are treated as fluff than it is a mechanism that would drive the senseless plot forward. If anything, there are events pointed out in the event that doesn't have anything to do with the life of the characters.
If anything, this movie did a great job at capturing the feeling of music bros being dumped on the wayside by a mature set of characters and how their current conditions aren't perfumed by the studios' liking of having to Cinderella story the shit out of a bunch of normal record store owners. The reality is in the reaction of one's social capital being invaded and we're here to witness how those reactions panned out in 2021. This is a villainous depiction of music nerds being the salt of the earth, the bane of all media discussion, still reflective of the insufferable salt of cyberspace found in music forums like 4chan and RYM. High Fidelity is a pipeline of 90s musicology, a dreaded fever dream of an owner waiting for the decade to end, trends ossifying and re-emerged by the hands of nostalgia-savvy individuals. It was, at its time, every music-movie nerd's excuse equivalent of Scott Pilgrim VS. The World. There are memories worth remembering and cherishing, and this movie isn't one of them.
DEAN BLUNT, WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK
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In the past two weeks I've been fancying myself into sitting down and listening to different projects from the ever elusive, UK-based sound artist Dean Blunt. The first time i chanced upon his music wasn't too long ago - albeit a recent one in the time of COVID - was when I randomly stumbled upon his records at a Spotify recommendations section under John Maus (yeah lol i know the implications whenever his name is mentioned) - but then i was enamored by his online presence so quickly I put everything down and dedicated an hour or two researching about this man's music.
Other than the fact that his album "The Redeemer" wasn't the best record to start off in journeying through his discography: ending up disgusted and borderline bored even and I was more likely to lambast this record's aimless, pretentious art-pop inflections. By the end of the day, it was a preference long solidified by his undying fanbase. According to his hardcore fans, the music isn't really music, evaluating it as a free form of sound art, rather than sticking to a structured and conventional cues; the genre is nullified by most analysts of the arts. The growing interest of the general public towards Dean Blunt's pranks and antics have long appealed to my tastes as a chaotic neutral individual. Pranks that are well executed to piss off UK gallery connoisseurs and entertain ironic attendees who'd shit on the art piece rather than participate in it.
More of the resources I've found about Dean Blunt online: numerous aliases and collaborations that lasted around almost 2 decades. The most notable of all them, at least for my money, are either Hype Williams, a duo consisting of Dean and frequent collaborator Inga Copeland, and Babyfather, an art performance parodizing the pirate radio culture in the UK. I have not delved enough in Blunt's body of work to evaluate everything and what i could synthesize from it. For now, I enjoyed it as a form of entertainment. Well, color me impressed because Dean Blunt isn't clowning around, he, in fact, makes blissful and transcendental music from left to right.
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Dean Blunt was the only few artists that made me want to binge on their discography. His movements in his music has attracted this pesky listener who thinks that being mysterious is a plus. I mean, look at me who thinks The Paul Institute, Panchiko, and Burial are the greatest artists that have walked the face of the earth.
The most I've enjoyed from Dean Blunt's discography are his mixtapes and collaborations: preferably his Soul Fire and ZUSHI, both of which were packaged as B-sides or supplemental releases rather than major releases such as the Babyfather project or the Black Metal releases. His knack for blurring the lines between genres still fascinate me as of this writing, and it continues to amaze me how he doesn't seize to compromise his art, he's here to prove a point and it sells quite well despite the lack of direction in his music. Blunt's music has more aggressive and hazy texture than the hollow, wide, soulless structure of art-pop/hypnagogic pop released today. He creates terrains from the rubble of his country's current shortcomings. The music overlaps the actual intentions with abstract concepts, becoming deconstructed down the line. In Babyfather, noise music coincides with Blunt's amateurish rapping. In Black Metal, Blunt isolates himself along with the assisted skeletal guitar playing. Both projects throwing all tropes in a vaccum alongside Blunt, who he himself would sought to become a personification of a musical void.
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(Excerpt from the Babyfather album review in TinyMixtapes)
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Dean Blunt is an entity that wishes to become one person, but no, this isn't a figure in a specific art form; this isn't Banksy, this isn't Bob Ong, this is made by one person, clearly it is if you listen closely, and it's been entrancing me ever since his presence was felt on the horizons of the internet. Dean Blunt, what the actual fuck.
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Love story
Mark Tuan x Reader
Word count: 7.1k
Genre: Fluff, forbidden love, descriptions of sex
Summary: Youâre in a relationship with the son of your fatherâs rival. Your cousin Jackson brings up the fact that your father would be furious if he found out about your so called love affair but gives you his blessing to continue your relationship. When you tell Mark that are willing to sacrifice your entire life if it means spending the rest of your days with him, you arenât shocked to hear that he would do the same. Unfortunately, Markâs dad tries to set him up with the daughter of one of his company partners and thatâs when Mark gives you the ultimatum of running away.
A/N: Based on Romeo and Juliet (some what lol). Idk but after NBTM and seeing him in that outfit giving me Romeo vibes I decided to write a story about forbidden love. Hope you enjoy!
âAnd where do you think youâre going? Donât think I donât know about you and that Tuan fellow y/n. You can lie to your parents, but you canât lie to me. So what, are you off to your dick appointment?âÂ
You playfully shoved the older boy before making your way to the fridge to find something to eat. Your cousin Jackson had moved to New York City from Los Angeles just a few weeks ago and you offered to let him live with you in your condo while he looked for a place of his own. However, you were now regretting your decision seeing as how nosy he could be when it came to your private life and how he eats anything in the fridge even if itâs obviously not his.Â
âOh God, please donât say fellow, it makes you sound like an old man.â As you took out your left over pizza from the night before and made your way over to the counter where he was sitting, you threw a piece of crust at him when you noticed the knowing look he was giving you.Â
âYou didnât answer my question y/n.âÂ
One thing you both loved and hated about the older boy, was how dedicated he was no matter the situation. He was one of the most successful businessmen there were at his age, but a lot of it had to do with who your family was. Jacksonâs father and your father were brothers. They were also the founders of one of the biggest technology companies in the world. It started off as a dream your father had. He worked extremely hard in high school and got accepted to Harvard university where he got his masters in business.Â
Since he was a few years older than your uncle, he waited until his younger brother graduated and got his degree before starting his business. From that day on, the two of them did whatever they had to do to make their way to the top of the industry. In the twenty seven years since they started the company, the two brothers experienced much success as well as they did loss and failure.But it didnât stop them from continuing their life long dream.Â
Learning from both your father and his, Jackson found himself working in the realty business. From the time he was little, he always loved watching anything on HGTV. His favorite show was property brothers and with some help from his parents, he became a very successful and well known realtor. Although he was making quite the name for himself in Los Angeles, he found out he could be making more sales in New York and properties were worth more in the Big Apple. You however, decided to steer clear  from anything that had to do with business and marketing.Â
If you were being honest, business was boring. There was nothing interesting with what your father did and although you were very grateful that his company brought your family a lot of wealth, that career path just wasnât for you. When you were only seven years old, you had gotten the stomach flu and it was so bad that you were rushed to the hospital. As scary as the whole situation was, the nurses who were in charge of you took such good care of you and took your mind off of the negative circumstance you were in. It was in that moment that you realized you wanted to help save lives and be able to give back to your community.Â
Against your fathers wishes, you went straight in to nursing school right after graduating high school and it was the best decision youâve made. Not only did you get to help thousands of people so far, witnessed many miracles and got to travel all around the world, itâs also where you met the man in question. Mark Tuan.Â
âWhat is there to say if you already know the answer? Yes, Iâm going to meet Mark. My personal life is nobodyâs business but my own. How did you even find out about us?âÂ
Jackson looked at you with a sad smile before releasing a frustrated sigh. The reason why he was so bothered about you seeing Mark was because your fathers were practically enemies.Â
In order to get to where they were today, your father and your uncle built relationships with other businesses and companies in order to get more connections. Markâs dad owned another technology company that was just as successful as your fatherâs. Many years ago, your father, Jacksonâs father and Markâs father Raymond were really good friends.Â
Your father met Raymond back in college while he was working on his undergraduate degree and they found themselves bonding over sports and video games. They even talked about starting a business together, however, they both had different plans in mind. Although, they never got to work and build their empire together, the two men stayed friends even after starting their companies. Unfortunately, as your familyâs business began to grow, Markâs father got extremely jealous and did whatever he could to sabotage your fatherâs company.Â
When rumors went around about how Jacksonâs father was having an affair with his secretary and that your father would mistreat his employees, many investors dropped out of supporting the company, causing them to suffer a massive loss. This also increased business sales for the Tuanâs company, earning Raymond the top spot of most successful CEO in the state.Â
From that day on, they became rivals and were constantly coming up with what they thought were the best technology products in order to grab the publicâs attention. With the release of the new smartphone that came with wireless earphones, your familyâs company was now at the top of the chain. However, you knew it wouldnât last for long. When one company released an item, the other company would come back with something better just a few weeks later.Â
âYouâre not as discreet as you probably think you are. Well, when I first moved in, I noticed there were some things around the apartment that were meant for men, so I assumed you were seeing someone, but I wasnât going to ask unless you told me. Then I noticed how secretive you were when it came to your phone and how you would always be on the phone with someone right as you came home. Donât think I didnât notice how excited you got after you hung up with who Iâm assuming was Mark. My assumptions were proven true when I saw the two of you at the coffee shop the other day. Y/nââÂ
You frowned before worriedly biting your lip. As much as you loved Jackson and trusted him more than anyone else in your family, you couldnât stop him from saying anything to your parents about your love interest.Â
âI know what youâre going to say Jack and I donât want to hear it. Itâs bad enough that Iâm dating the son of our fatherâs so called enemy, I donât need to be reminded of it. Please, promise me you wonât say anything.âÂ
Jackson brought his fingers up to the bridge of his nose and lightly pinched it out of frustration. âYouâre dating him? Shit. I thought you were only fucking around with him. But heâs your boyfriend? Y/n, you know Iâm only acting like this because I care about you and I support your decisions no matter what, but youâre making a huge mistake. Our fathers hated each other even before we were born. This war between our family and his family has been going on for twenty four years. I donât care how good the dick is y/n, there are many more men out there whose fathers donât have a rivalry with ours. Someone with less baggage. How do you not know Mark is just using you in order to take down our company? Iâve seen the guy and Iâm not going to lie, heâs pretty good looking and Iâm sure heâs said some things to sweet talk his way in to your heart. However, I canât help but think that he has some tricks up his sleeve and IââÂ
When he saw a tear fall from your eyes, he was quick to stop his sentence altogether. Jackson had the biggest soft spot for you and did whatever he could in order to make you happy. You were like the younger sister heâs never had but always wanted. With that being said, he got up from his seat and pulled you in to his arms.Â
âPlease donât say things like that about him. Heâs nothing like his father. He isnât even in the business; he wants nothing to do with it. Like me. I love him Jackson. More than anyone or anything on this hell forsaken earth. Iâd do anything for him, be anyone he wants me to be. Iâd give up anything in order to spend the rest of my life with him. Even if it meant cutting off ties with our family. I know he loves me Jackson, I can feel it. Although he tells me multiple times on a daily basis, he never fails to show it in his actions. I see it in the way he smiles when I catch him looking at me, I feel it when he holds me, touches me, kisses me. He makes me feel things, no one ever has before.âÂ
You released an exhausted breath before continuing. âIâm happiest when Iâm with him. I feel the safest in his arms and when Iâm without him, I feel incomplete. For years, I did whatever my parents told me to. I dressed the way my mother wanted me to and joined all these after school activities in order to make my father proud. However, when I made the decision to go in to nursing, that was when I decided to put myself, my desires and my needs first. I am a twenty three year old woman. I am old enough and wise enough to make decisions for myself. I donât see Mark as the son of my fatherâs nemesis, I see him as my safe haven. My best friend. My soulmate. The love of my life. The man I want to settle down and spend the rest of my life with. I donât care if I end up losing everyone around me, heâs all I ever need. Oh, well, and you of course. But if you decide that you no longer want anything to do with me, then I just have to accept your decision. No matter how much I donât want to.âÂ
When you were six years old and Jackson was nine, you saw him playing halo on his Xbox and begged him to let you join him. However, he always told you no, saying that video games were for boys. Right after he said that, you ran to your father and begged him to buy you an even better version of the Xbox with every single game it had to offer. You would stay up playing, learning every trick of the trade and made it your mission to beat your older cousin.Â
One day, he came over and saw your high score, causing his jaw to drop and he was sure you cheated. There was no way you, a six year old girl could accomplish that of someone whose been gaming for years. Jackson knew from that day on, when you set your heart to something, you meant it. He was there for it all; nursing school, when you joined the volleyball team even though your parents preferred you learn an instrument, when you quit ballet to join hip hop. He knew Mark meant everything to you and that you meant every single word about risking it all for him.Â
âIâI donât know what to say. You know I love you, and that Iâd do anything for you. Which is why Iâm going to keep this love affair a secret between you and I, no matter how much this would probably upset our fathers. Damnit y/n, you owe me big time. That man better treat you right or I will personally make sure pretty boy regrets the day he was born. You know, come to think of it, your love story is kind of like Romeo and Julietâs and Iâm the handsome cousin that has to be stuck between a rock and a hard place choosing whatâs wrong over whatâs right. Although, as cheesy as it sounds, love is never wrong y/n. If you know, deep down in your heart that youâre in love with him and that he feels the same way about you, thereâs nothing I or anyone else for that matter can do about it. Your secret is safe with me. I better be the best man at your wedding, even if I am the only man at your wedding. I love you. Donât ever forget that. Youâre never going to lose me, Iâve been here for you from day one and Iâm always going to be here. Now go, Romeo is waiting.âÂ
You pulled him in for a tight hug and placed a soft kiss on his forehead before quickly wrapping up your food and throwing it in the freezer. âWait, youâre not wearing that are you?âÂ
As you took a look at what you were wearing, you furrowed your brows. You didnât see anything wrong with your sweats, camisole and one of Markâs flannels. Since you were planning on staying the night, you wanted to be comfortable. âWhatâs wrong with what Iâm wearing?â
Jackson looked at you in shock, as if he couldnât believe the fact that you thought your outfit was okay to meet your boyfriend with. Werenât girls the one who were obsessed with looking good for their man? Not that you didnât look nice, you were extremely beautiful; especially without make up. But some beat up sweats and an oversized flannel did not exactly scream âsex appealâ not that your plans with Mark were Jacksonâs business.Â
âYouâre lucky youâre really pretty. Iâm sure your fashion sense isnât what got the guy to fall in love with you. Go change in to something cuter, something that screams âIâm giving my life up for you, you better dick me down like you mean itâow! Iâm only trying to helpâwhen did you become this abusive? Hurry up and leave, Iâm getting bruises.âÂ
As much as you wanted to ignore him, you took Jacksonâs words in to consideration and put more effort in to your look. Mark liked whatever you wore. He never failed to compliment you whether you were makeup less in your scrubs, or all dolled up in a dress in high heels. No matter what you wore, all items of clothing would end up on his floor any way. After putting on some lingerie Mark bought for you when the two of you went on a secret getaway to Greece a few months ago, you threw on one of his jackets and a pair of shorts and let him know you were on your way.Â
Once you grabbed your bags and said your goodbyes to Jackson, you headed over to Markâs apartment. Just the mere thought of Mark sent chills down your spine and butterflies to your tummy. He never failed to make you smile and laugh with his corny pick up lines and dad jokes. He made you feel like you were the most beautiful and ethereal creature to walk this earth. He worshipped the ground you walked on and made sure you knew just how grateful he was to be the lucky man who got to love you.Â
When the two of you first met almost a year ago in the emergency wing of the hospital you worked at, you didnât think he would mean this much to you. He was just a patient who was suffering with a kidney stone and you were one of the three nurses that were assigned to him. Although you werenât wearing make up and you were fully suited up in your scrubs, gloves and cap, Mark thought you were a sight for sore eyes. He was in excruciating pain, but that didnât stop him from stealing glances of you every chance he got.Â
As you explained to him what he had to do in order for him to get rid of the stone, itâs as if everything you told him went through one ear and out the other. He couldnât stop staring at your pretty, pink lips or your cute little button nose. He also thought you had some of the prettiest eyes heâs ever seen and even if he hasnât known you for all too long, he found himself falling for your kind, patient and generous personality.Â
Over the course of Markâs stay in the hospital, you grew fond of the shy young man with the corny hospital jokes. Every time you went in to go check up on him, you found yourself staying just a little too long, talking about anything and everything your hearts desired. You didnât realize just how much time you were spending with him until you would get paged on your work phone to go check up on other patients. Something about the way Mark gave you his undivided attention whenever youâd talk with him and the way he always seemed so interested in what you had to say made you feel important. It made you feel warm and giddy on the inside.Â
Youâve never got to experience a real relationship since you were always so busy with work and school and you would always decline your parents offer of setting you up with sons of the companies partners. You wanted to enjoy your life while you were still young. There were no plans for you to settle down just yet. That was until Mark came in to your life. When he was finally discharged from the hospital, to say you were upset was an understatement. You really enjoyed his presence and for the first time, you didnât feel like you were working whenever you had to tend to him.Â
Going to work knowing you were going to see him was like a breath of fresh air and you knew you were going to miss him. But all you were ever going to be to him was a nurse who took care of him during a negative situation. A few days later, you were working the night shift when you got paged by one of your coworkers that you were needed in the lobby. Since it was a slow night, you didnât think anything of it until your eyes landed on the tall figure standing at the reception desk.Â
âY/n, sorry to bother you, but this young man was looking for you. You werenât busy were you?âÂ
You shook your head as a smile quickly rose on your face as you motioned for Mark to follow you. âHey! Iâm glad to see you no longer in pain and moving around freely. You look nice! Not that you didnât look good in the hospital gown because, you did. Oh God, what am I saying? Please feel free to stop me anytime before I say something even more embarrassing.âÂ
The giggle that left his lips sent warmth to your cheeks and before you knew it, he was handing you a beautiful bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates. âIâd like to thank you for all of your help over the last past week. To be honest with you, I hate hospitals. I find them so eerie and depressing. But you made my stay very relaxing and enjoyable. You radiate such a positive energy that is extremely contagious and Iâd be lying if I said I only came here to thank you. I couldnât keep you off my mind from the time I was first administered in to the emergency room and you were in charge of me. With that being said, do you think youâd like toâmaybe we couldâI could take you outâwe could goâhmph. Sorry, Iâm really bad at stuff like this and itâs probably because I find myself getting nervous around you. Iâm pretty sure you were aware of it when youâd ask me questions about how I was doing. I just really want to impress you for some reason. I like you a lot y/n, will you go on a date with me?âÂ
You were sure your cheeks were probably red as a tomato, but you didnât care. A part of you wanted him to see the kind of effect he had on you. Seeing him get all flustered just trying to ask you out made your cheeks hurt from the wide grin you couldnât seem to get off of your face. With the confidence you didnât think you were capable of, you found yourself reaching up to playfully pinch his cheek before leaving a kiss there.Â
âIâd love to go on a date with you Mark.â He scratched the back of his neck bashfully before taking a look around the hospital to make sure none of your colleagues were around in order to place a chaste kiss on your forehead.
âSounds great. Is Saturday okay?â You nodded in agreement. âWhat time are you finished tonight? I can take you home if youâd like?âÂ
You gave him a soft smile before shaking your head. âI donât finish for another three hours and I wouldnât want you to have to wait for me. Itâs okay, I actually drove here so Iâm all good. But thank you for the offer. Trying to win brownie points huh? Youâre cute. I should start heading back to work. Thank you for the gifts. Iâll see you Saturday night.âÂ
When you finally pulled up to Markâs apartment structure, you quickly made your way up to his unit, eager to finally spend time with your boyfriend after almost a week of not getting to see him. Your schedule at the hospital and his at the firehouse seemed to collide in the last week and you werenât able to see each other for the time being. It was also harder for you now that Jackson was living with you. There was no way you were able to leave your place without many questions being thrown your way but now that he was aware of your relationship, you were sure things were going to go back to how they used to be.Â
You missed him and as often as he tried to call you, it wasnât the same as physically being with him. He opened the door just a few seconds after you knocked and you didnât give him any time to prepare before jumping on him.Â
âHey baby. Howâs my favorite girl been? Mmmm, Iâve missed you too my love.âÂ
You began leaving sloppy kisses all around his face as he began to carry you over to his room. âOooh, were going straight to the bedroom huh? Kinky.â He rolled his eyes before playfully slapping your ass.Â
âItâs been a week since Iâve gotten to touch you. We have a lot to make up for and I plan on having you in many ways, in multiple places tonight my love. So I hope youâre ready.âÂ
Mark wasnât lying when he told you he planned on rearranging your guts and blowing your back out. You didnât need him to verbally tell you that he missed you. He made it known that he hated not being able to see his favorite person with the way he was drilling himself in to you like his life depended on it. The two of you went at it for almost four hours. Neither of you could get enough of each other. When one of you tapped out, the other one would begin to tease until another round was started.Â
Although only a week had gone by since youâve last seen each other, it felt like years. Which is why you both experimented in many different positions in different locations around his apartment. You didnât think youâd be able to eat at his table without picturing yourself getting eaten out on top of it. You loved the way Mark felt inside of you. His cock would stretch you out in the most amazing ways and even if he could be dominant and animalistic, he was also very gentle and made sure you were having just as much of a good time as he was. He also made sure to show each and every body part of yours some love, especially your breasts, thighs and your pussy.Â
Once the two of you were finally done and called it a night, he made his way to the bathroom and came back to pick you up and carried you bridal style towards the bathtub. He stepped in and carefully sat down before pulling you down with him and pressed you close against his chest. You leaned closer in to his embrace if it was even possible and hid your face in to the crook of his neck.Â
âIâve missed you so much. I almost tried to break a leg at the firehouse so I could get registered in to the ER and have you nurse me back to healthâin more ways than one. You look exhausted babyâwell, I mean other than the fact that I practically fucked you in to oblivion just a few minutes ago. But I mean from work. Thereâs wrinkles and dark circles on your pretty little face. I told you to take care of yourself since I wasnât able to. Have you been getting enough rest and eating your meals on time?âÂ
You giggled softly in to his neck before hesitantly shaking your head in disagreement. âIâve been so busy these days. Thatâs kind of the reason why I havenât been able to come over on the days that you werenât scheduled to stay at the firehouse. A lot of the nurses have been calling in sick lately so weâre low on staff and Iâve practically been working back to back shifts. It doesnât matter though. Iâm home now. Iâm happy. Iâm happiest when Iâm in your arms.âÂ
When you didnât hear him respond you frowned and turned around to see if something was wrong. Your heart fluttered when you noticed the way he was looking at you with so much love and admiration and before you knew it, his lips were on yours.
âI love you so much y/n. You donât understand. God, Iâm so fucking in love with you baby.â You grinned widely at him before stealing a chaste kiss from the corner of his mouth.Â
âI love you too Mark. Why donât you update me on everything that Iâve missed so far?â He began to tell you about the countless fires he had to tend to and you couldnât help but laugh when he told you about how he had to rescue a cat from a tree. Unfortunately, Jacksonâs words came back to haunt you and you found yourself releasing a frustrated groan.
âHey baby, everything okay?â You turned to face him and cupped his cheek with your hand.
âHow about we get out of here and Iâll explain everything?â He nodded in agreement before motioning for you to get off of him so that he could help you wipe yourself down and get you ready for bed. Once you both finished your nightly routine, he helped you put on one of his shirts and a pair of his boxers.
âYou looked extremely sexy earlier in that black lace piece we got back in Greece by the way baby. Maybe we should go on another trip and I can buy you more?â You gave him a knowing look as he playfully squeezed your butt and reached for your hand to guide you back to his room. As the two of you got in bed, before you could get comfortable, you were being pulled on top of his chest.Â
âWhatâs on your mind my love?â You sat up just a little bit so you could see him as you gave him the news.Â
âMy cousin Jacksonâhe umâhe found out about us.â Markâs brows furrowed worriedly and he was about to speak up but you continued. âHe wonât say anything to my father. Our secrets safe with him. I know it is. I trust Jackson with my life.âÂ
He began running his hands along your hips as a way to encourage you to continue. Markâs gentle touches always got you to calm down. Whenever you had a stressful day at work, he never failed to make you feel better by caressing your cheek or gliding his thumb against your wrist. His mere presence could calm you down from a panic attack or mental breakdown. You always felt so safe with him; like you could do anything as long as you had him by your side.
âThen whatâs the matter baby?âÂ
You shrugged. âHe brought up a good point. If my father or even your father were to find out about us, then theyâll probably force us to break up. Or worse, theyâll try to set us up with other people. So I told him, Iâm willing to cut ties with my entire family if it meant spending the rest of my life with you. I donât need anybody but you Mark Tuan. You are all the family I could ever want and need. Sure, weâve only been together for over a year now, but it has been the best year of my life and I know youâre the one I want to spend the rest of my life with. I donât know how you feel and I understand if you donât feel the same, but I just had to say it.âÂ
The tear that fell from his handsome face made you giggle and he was quick to pull you down in order to connect your lips together. This kiss was rough, his lips were gnawing and sucking harshly on yours but thatâs because your words sent his body in flames. He needed you to know the effect you had on him.
When he felt like it was getting too hot and heavy between the both of you, he pulled away and placed his forehead against yours to catch his breath. âYouâre all I could ever want and need too baby. Youâre my person y/n. My best friend, my soulmate. Time doesnât determine how strong the love is between two people. Hell, I fell in love with you the day I laid eyes on you.  Iâm a grown ass man, Iâm not going to allow my parents to tell me how to live my life. Thereâs no point of living life if youâre not in it. I didnât realize how shitty my life was before until you entered it and made it amazing. Youâve brought so much love and happiness in to this pathetic heart of mine and I donât know what I would do without you. If loving you and being with you is wrong, then fuck, I love being wrong. I donât want to be right. Youâre the only thing that is right in my life. When I think about my future, I can only see you in it. I only want you in it. Well, until we start having kids and a dog or twoâbut youâre all I want for the rest of my life too y/n. When I donât get to see you, I feel so empty. You take a piece of me with you every time you leave. Iâve never felt this way about anyone before. I genuinely think that you and I were made to love one another. You are the best thing thatâs ever happened to me y/n. I love you with every fiber of my being. I didnât even know it was possible to love someone that muchâcome here my cry baby.âÂ
You didnât even notice you were crying but you couldnât help it. Every word that fell from his lips was genuine and you knew he meant everything he said. Hearing that he was already planning his future with you made butterflies swarm around your tummy. The idea of settling down and raising a family with Mark brought a warm sensation to your chest. His words woke something inside of you and you realized you were no longer tired. If anything, you were now wide awake and wanted to show Mark the effect he had on you.Â
âMark.â He looked up at you and hummed in curiosity. âAre you tired?â He gave you a knowing smirk before running his hands along your thighs.Â
âNever too tired to make love to my princess. Round eight here we come.âÂ
The next morning, you woke up to an empty and cold bed. You frowned when you came to the realization and saw that his closet was wide open. He probably had to go to work and although you were upset, you were very understanding. There were times where the two of you would be hanging out and youâd get called in to the hospital.Â
Both of you were very understanding when it came the other oneâs job, but youâd be lying if you said it didnât bother you whenever your time together was cut short because either one of you were called to go in to work. You attempted to get up, but the pleasurable soreness in between your thighs prevented you from doing so. Once you initiated another round of sex last night after hearing your boyfriendâs heart felt love confession, that led to two more rounds up against his fridge and in the shower. Before you could continue your self pity party, the man in question entered the room with his hair wet and only a towel wrapped around his waist.Â
âGood morning beautiful. How was your sleep?â
âAmazing. I always sleep so much better when Iâm with you. You showered without me?â You gave him an adorable pout and his laughter engulfed throughout his room.Â
âI didnât want to wake you. My boss called me an hour ago and asked me to come in for a briefing. Iâm sorry, I didnât want to leave you but I wonât be long. I made you some breakfast, itâs in the microwave so just heat it up when youâre ready. I promise when I come home you and I can have a relaxing day in. Then we can take another shower together. Let me finish getting ready and then I can hold you for a couple of minutes.âÂ
You couldnât help the blush that was probably on your cheeks at how soft Mark was whenever it came to you. Also because of how good he looked in nothing but a towel. You were secretly hoping that it would fall down since he was practically running all over the place. No matter how many times youâve seen Mark naked, you would get flustered every single time. Although he had a skinny frame, he was very broad and well built. It was obvious that he probably works out at the firehouse because his biceps have gotten bigger since the last time youâve seen him.Â
You felt your mouth beginning to water at the sight and you tried your best to push away the sinful thoughts that were now clouding your mind. Once he finished changing in to his uniform, he had you make some room for him before rejoining you in bed.Â
âHave I ever told you how sexy you look in my clothes?â You looked up at him and playfully rolled your eyes.
âYes. Many times. But I donât necessarily mind hearing it. Have I ever told you how sexy you look in your uniform?â He bit his lip before nodding his head in agreement.Â
âYeah. I donât particularly look as sexy when I return from putting out a fire looking all dirty and sweaty though.â
âSpeak for yourself. I think thatâs when you look the hottest, no pun intended.â This earned you a sarcastic groan from your boyfriend. âWhy donât you get going? As much as I love cuddling with you, I donât want you getting in trouble with the chief. Go, so you can come back sooner. I miss you already.â He placed a soft kiss on your forehead and stole one more from your lips before running out the door.Â
For the entirety of the day while you were waiting for his return, you decided to watch some tv and made some lunch for the both of you. When he said that he wasnât going to be long, you thought he would be back in an hour or two. But now it was nearing six oâclock and you were starting to get worried. You sent him a couple of texts but got nothing back. In attempts to take your mind off of what might be going on, you started to look through his cabinets for some cake mix. Just as you were about to put the cake in the oven, you heard keys unlocking the door and you couldnât help but run towards him once he entered and jumped up on him as if itâs been years since youâve seen him.Â
You knew something mustâve been clouding his thoughts when he didnât react to your sudden clinginess but you didnât let it bother you. He hid his face in your neck and placed a soft kiss there before placing you back on to the ground.
âHey, everything okay?â He gave you a sad smile before leading you towards the couch.Â
âLetâs talk.â Those words never led to anything good and you had a fear what he wanted to talk about had to do with what the two of you were talking about the night before.
âI was supposed to come home hours ago. The meeting wasnât even an hour long. My dadâhe uhâhe asked me to meet him at the company right after I was done. He said he wanted to have lunch with me, but when I entered his office, there was an older man; maybe around his age and a lady probably my age or a few years younger. It doesnât take a genius to know what they were there for. I wanted to walk out as soon as I walked in and put two and two together, but you know how I am. I canât be rude to someone no matter how much I want to. I decided to listen to what my father had to say and thatâs when he introduced the two of us. Her father owns a construction company and my dad felt that we would be a good match. Such fucking bullshit. He knows nothing about me. I politely excused myself and asked to meet my dad outside. Thatâs when I told him that I was already in a relationship and guess what that fucker told me to do? To break up with you. Ha! Over my dead body. The audacity. I stormed out of that building so quick and decided to blow off some steam by driving around for a while and I worked out at the firehouse before coming back here. I didnât want to take my anger out on you.âÂ
You brought your fingers up to his face and gently caressed his cheek. âMarkââ He placed his forehead against your chest and left a few wet kisses against your collarbone.Â
âYou said youâre willing to give up everything for me right? That youâre willing to cut all ties with your family if it means we can be together right?âÂ
You nodded without hesitation. Youâd do anything for the beautiful man standing in front of you. He ran his fingers through your hair and smiled widely at you.Â
âLetâs runaway then baby. I donât know where weâll go, where weâll live or what weâre going to do once we leave but I donât care about that. You. All I ever care about and will care about is you. As long as weâre together, I donât care where weâll end up. Iâm sure any hospital would be happy to hire you and I can always transfer to another fire station. I donât care if we end up in a crummy ass apartment or a six bedroom houseâwell, a six bedroom house does sound nice. But I donât care about what the future holds as long as youâre in it. I refuse to picture life without you y/n. Iâm sorry if thatâs not what you want and donât feel like you have to do this for my sake. I know you said you would give up your relationship with your family to be with me last night but you could end up changing your mind if you feel that you had a brief lapse of judgement and said it in the heat of the moment. Iâll do whatever you want to do baby. Just say the word.âÂ
You took a good look at your boyfriend and you could feel your heartbeat increase with the way he was looking at you as if you were one of the seven wonders of the world. Sure, youâd miss your family and you hated the thought of them cutting ties with you completely if they were to find out why you were running away, but sometimes you have to make sacrifices for the ones that you love. Mark was definitely worth sacrificing your entire life for.Â
âI meant everything I said last night. Iâd go anywhere for you, do anything to make you happy, be anyone you want me to be. I just need you. Iâm yours. Forever. Itâs you and me forever baby.â
#got7 imagines#got7#mark tuan#got7 mark#got7 fluff#mark tuan got7#got7 preferences#got7 drabbles#my kpop therapy boy
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Jikook Sexy Alien AU Part 1
Personas are a product of @satellite-jeonâ âs beautiful mind.
This is WIP and still pretty drafty, and Iâll be posting new parts to tumbler as I finish them. Iâm planning 4-5 parts overall.Â
For my best girl @kmheartâ <3333 Thank you for loving this mess. <333
Warnings: Coarse language.
Jungkook doesnât know exactly when his life took a dive from awesome to downright shitty.
And even if he did, he wouldnât be telling that story any time soon âcause no one gives a ratâs arse about good olâ boy Jungkook who scrubs pools for a living.Â
It didnât start that way. In high school, he was a local superstar. The golden jock. The whole fucking trope, baby. With titties of all caliber following him everywhere. Boy did love him some pussy. Dicks, too. He loved everything to do with sex, drugs and rockânâroll.
He believed himself invincible and it was only a matter of time before he mingled with the wrong crowd. Only back then, he thought of them as friends. His bros for life.
Well.
Now, he cleans pools - the only kind of gig he can scrounge up nowadays, what with a criminal record and whatnot - and trusts no bro.Â
And when heâs not cleaning pools, heâs stuck at the garage being bossed around by a dirtbag who happens to be his uncle. His uncle, Sunmu, hates his guts - one of those stupid homophobic fucks who canât mind their own fucking business. Needless to say, no love lost.
As much as Jungkook wants to punch his stupid teeth out - whatâs left of them anyhow - he needs the money and itâs not like his uncle can do much more than run his smelly farthole of a mouth. Which he does. At lengths. The dude just never shuts up. Until one day, Jungkook made him shut up - even his golden-boy patience has its limits. And the dude blew up, called the police, the neighbors came a-running, the whole nine yards.
One hell of a shitshow, that night.
So now, Jungkook has taken to bringing guys to fuck in his garage instead. Totally intentional. He knows the geezer, like the sick fuck he is, had cameras installed all over for his own perverse pleasure. So Jungkook lets him enjoy it while he can.
âCause once the summer ends, Jungkook will burn down his fucking shack and hit the road, because heâs this close to being done with the shitfucks that are hell bent on ruining his life.
Another day. Another mindless grind.
Luckily for him, the client has vacated the house for the day, leaving their big pool in his capable hands. A much welcome break from those rich fucks being all smug and pissy and all up in his grill about every little nothing.Â
Rich tits always think they know everything.
Not to mention their shitty kids running around, destroying his equipment and yapping his ear off. Or worse yet, their old haggy wives flashing their saggy tits at him - goodness gracious, does his face say heâs into wrinkled-ass pussy or something?
He thinks the fuck not.
Jungkook plops down on a deck chair and pops a can of coke open, taking a long chug. When he doesnât have people looming over his ass, he prefers taking things slow. At his own pace. Thatâs what heâs all about.Â
As much as he could wrap things up faster and call it a day, heâs not looking forward to trudging back to the garage. Sunmu the dipshit would be there, of course, nagging at him with this shit or that and heâd rather chill out here - the house is off-limits, locked tight, but the scenery is gorgeous. The house sits on a cliff, with the pool area overlooking the city below.Â
Itâs private and quiet and damn therapeutic. Like, he could just close his eyes and pretend itâs all his. That heâs not a broke-ass dude about to keel over any day now, but someone who is in control of his life.Â
And he does just that. Closes his eyes and leans back, cradling the coke to his chest like one does a lover.
Mind blank of any thought.
The sky above crackles in warning, too close for comfort. And it wakes up goosebumps along his skin as he jostles awake from his little moment of inner peace. His hands flap around, knocking his coke over - it drips all over his tank top.Â
Nice, Jungkook thinks.Â
Of-fucking-course, it must rain today of all days. He scrambles up to his feet, ready to start hauling all the gear back into his truck when IT happens.
At first, he is not even sure what IT even is. One moment, heâs one grouchy mess, spewing dozens of profanities at no one in particular while tugging at his stained top in a retarded attempt to shake the mess off. And the next-
Something, fairly massive and spherical, materializes a few inches above the pool before plunging into water like a dead weight. Jungkook can only manage an undignified squawk before the impact wave sends him flying into the thorny shrubs framing the pool.
Mother-fucker.
When he drags his ass back from the shrubs, drenched from head to toe and covered in scratches, all he knows is that his stained shirt is the least of his problems now, because thisâŚ
What the fuck is this? he thinks, staring agog at the offender, hogging the pool now.
It looks likeâŚsomething.
Maybe a futuristic car or a flying vessel of some sort. He has no clue, really. What it is or where it came from, but itâs here, right in his face, obstructing his work. Like a bastard.
Heâll have to call up a tow truck or something to pluck this sucker out, which will take forever and there go his plans for Friday night out.
Jungkook walks around the pool, inspecting the strange contraption from all sides. Itâs slick and round and very, very chrome. Perhaps - a submarine. Some ultra-slick technology with masking abilities. Which apparently can fly, but not very well, otherwise, how the fuck itâd ended up stuck in his pool.
Those rich fucks and their stupid malfunctioning toys, eh.Â
Jungkook sighs and kicks the empty coke can lying about. It flies off towards the pod, ricocheting right off its shiny cask with a sharp clank. And now he has even more trash to dredge up from the puddle bellow. What joy.
As he is about to roll over and wail in self-pity, the pod wakes up with a tremor, sending shallow ripples over the water. Jungkook freezes, frantically thinking over his choices - his gut reaction is to hightail the fuck out of here, because the thing is starting to show signs of life and it doesnât sit well with Jungkook, not one bit.
He better scram and scram fast. Fuck the money and his uncle - especially his uncle - no one told him scrubbing pools involved close encounters of the third kind.
He makes to do just that but doesnât make it too far as he bumps into someone, loosing his balance and sending them both to the ground. With a groan, he opens his eyes to stare at the unfortunate soul who had to bear the brunt of the fall on their- his.Â
Itâs definitely a he. A he so stunning Jungkookâs jaw goes slack and his brain radio-silent. Meanwhile, the he doesnât waste any time making the most of their proximity as he slithers his hands around Jungkookâs neck and presses against him in a soft sweet kiss.
A supernova goes off at the back of his skull.Â
It was awesome.
âHello,â the other says, a quality to his voice that is out of this world. He must be out of this world, because how?
âIâm Jimin.â
âHi,â Jungkook says.
A dumb grin takes over his face.
Heâs tingly all over. He thinks heâs in love.Â
âYouâre gorgeous, Jimin-ah. Will you marry me?â
âMarry?â Jimin says tentatively as if testing the word on his tongue. His lips are pretty and full, forming a perpetual pout. Itâs adorable. âI canât marry. I need to mate.â
âOh.â That throws Jungkook for a loop, as his heart swells with emotion. âMate who?â
âYou,â Jimin smiles. âSerendipity has chosen you as the most suitable candidate within this quadrant of our galaxy. Weâre compatible.â
âWow,â Jungkook whispers. He understands jack shit, but it does feel like serendipity, doesn't it. Just a moment ago, he was one miserable son of a bitch and nowâŚheâs the luckiest son of a bitch in the whole fucking quadrant of their galaxy.Â
âYou do know Iâm scrubbing pools for a living, right?â
He props himself up on his hands, hovering over the gorgeous Jimin and eyeing him like a candy on a stick. Jimin has pretty dainty hands. They are always in motion, feelings up Jungkookâs arm muscles, bulging all prettily just for him - this shameless little minx.
âI know everything about you,â Jimin says, his voice washing over Jungkookâs mind like a gentle summer tide.
Turns his brain all mush-mush.Â
âEvery second of your waking moment. Every dream, every thought youâve had. Serendipity has shown me all of it.â
Whomever this Serendipity is, Jungkook hopes it didnât show every single thought he had. After a certain age, theyâd gotten rather repetitive and tended to fixate mostly on things below the belt - which is not the image of himself he wants to project into this world.Â
âYouâre thinking too much,â Jimin purrs, tapping his temple lightly.
His hands wind up in Jungkookâs hair, massaging the scalp and down his neck. His touches are flitting, almost shy and it kindles longing in Jungkook like never before. It tramples all of the questions budding in his head. Melting reason away. Before he knows theyâre kissing again and it plays out like a dream.Â
Heâs doing something, but heâs not really in control. It feels good. Peaceful, heâs in a safe place. Jiminâs touches are weightless and tender as he maps out his body with the very tips of his fingers.Â
Like he can reach everywhere - can touch anywhere.
The moment something prods his mind, gentle and soothing - akin to a light breeze caressing the leaves - Jungkook shivers. Falls under. A feeling like no other. Floating, like a little air bubble.Â
Itâs gone as sudden as it came and Jungkook finds himself yearning.
âWe canât do it here,â Jimin says as they both move upright in sync. He grabs Jungkookâs hand. âLetâs go. Serendipity will have to stay here for now.â
âSerendipity?â Jungkook asks, shaking off the drowsiness as his brain slowly kicks back into gear. âYou mean that pod thing?â
âDonât call her âa thingâ,â Jimin chides. âShe has feelings. Quite a temper, too.â
âDamn, a she-pod with feelingsâ.
Theyâre standing now with Jimin plastered against his chest and nuzzling his mighty pec. Not awkward at all.Â
âSheâs a ship. The most intelligent ship in the whole galaxy. Completely self-aware,â Jimin says, exploring the vastness of Jungkookâs chest with his curious palms now. Jungkook starts to notice a certain obsession here of a tactile nature, but canât find it in himself to complain. âBe kind to her.â
âI am kind,â Jungkook says. âIâm like...wait, who are you?â
âIâm Jimin.â
âOkay,â Jungkook nods. âBut what kind of Jimin are you? Where did you come from? Youâre not with the Joneses here, are you?â
With the burden of rational thinking, Jungkook slumps into a realization that he has questions. And he must ask them.Â
âNo, Iâm from space,â Jimin says like itâs not big deal. âWe need to go,â he commands, taking charge and dragging Jungkook along.
âSpace? Wow,â Jungkook says. âThatâs, ah, nice, I guess. Never been myself, what with the radiation and minus fuck-ton degrees, you know. Transportation kinda sucks, too. I donât know if youâre aware but weâre kinda still in the stone age or whatever, but, ehm...remember when I was lying on top of you, with our private parts perfectly aligned? That was nice too, wanna, ehm, do that again?â
âHere is not safe,â Jimin says and at least, itâs not a no. âSerendipity can hide herself well enough, but itâs a matter of time before he tracks me down. And if that happens, I donât want him to track me down right next to her.â
âWhoâs he?âÂ
âJust a man who never gives up whatâs his.â
âYou mean, like, ex-boyfriend?â Jungkook asks, swallowing down an annoying spike of jealousy. âDo you even have boyfriends in space?â
âI meant Serendipity, not me,â Jimin says. âAnd yes, we do have boyfriends up there in space. You donât have to worry though, heâs been mated for the past five hundred years. Heâs that boring.â
Jungkook lets out a low whistle.
âIf his mate looks anything like you, thatâs understandable.â
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Kamen Rider Ex-Aid Review
Since Iâm getting closer to the ending of Ghost, Iâd thought Iâd post my review of Ex-Aid. I know itâs been a while since I finished the show but it took me a while to digest it and get all my thoughts together without raging. This is gonna be a controversial one. I know a lot of people love Ex-Aid, but if youâve been watching my liveblogs, you probably know how this review is gonna end
Still trying to find a suitable review style so I hope you like the one I came up with. Without further ado, letâs get this over with⌠What I Liked: -The Opening:  I freakinâ love Excite! Itâs one of the best toku theme songs. Every time Iâd watch an episode of Ex-Aid, I would sit through the opening just to listen to this song. Itâs that good. Too bad for like 10-12 episodes it was more like an ending song but I didnât mind it too much.
-Kiriya: Kiriya was, without a doubt, the best character in this show. Loved his lying ass personality. Loved his Hawaiian shirts. Had a pretty heartbreaking backstory and every time he was on screen he was a joy to watch. Also his actorâs hot
- The Game Driver and the Gasthats: At first I wasnât sure about them. Theyâre so campy looking with their design and the neon bright colors, but over time I grew to really like them. Theyâre so different compared to other Rider belts. An odd one but I find when the belt says âGASHATOâ very satisfying. -Kuroto and Masamune Actors: Â I love how much fun theyâre having playing their characters. Iâve heard Kurotoâs actor is the one that gave him the crazy personality and Masamuneâs actor is a famous musician and carries his gashat to his shows. I think thatâs really sweet.Â
-Brave and Para-DX design: All his forms are great. Heâs the best looking rider in my opinion in this show next to Para-DX who designs is just gorgeous. Iâm still not a fan of the eyes on the visor, but they work better on them than the other suits.
-Taiga and Nico: Taiga by himself is an emo asshole who withheld the âtreatmentâ of a patient because he wanted a gashat, but when heâs with Nico heâs tolerable. Theyâre dynamic made me kind of like him as the show went on. Iâve heard what the brave and snipe movie does to him, however Iâm only basing his personality on the show, not the movies. In the show, he did get better. He was still an asshole, but less so in later episodes. And Nico, while annoying and bratty, I enjoyed her overall. Together, they had some of the more memorable moments in the show for me. -The Saki Revival Scene: That one scene when Masamune releases Saki and she keeps saying âBecome the world's best doctorâ is amazingly well done. How thereâs no music when Saki keeps repeating her line and her face is glitching out. The tone of that scene was phenomenal. What I Didnât Like: -Emu: Despite the fact that I put him in the âDidnât Likeâ section, I donât think Emu is a bad character. Itâs his characterization I hae a problem with. Heâs super inconsistent. Generally, heâs an empathetic person, but sometimes he uses that empathy in the wrong ways. Both Taiga and Hiiro hate him for a good 3/4ths of the show and multiple times Emu considers them his friends. Then thereâs the scene with Kuroto where Emu says âheâs a good person.â That whole speech made me good âWhat the fuck is wrong with you, Emu?!â considering Kuroto killed Kiriya, Emuâs friend! The whole âMâ personality part of him was not handled well. There are times throughout the show where I wasnât even sure who was who. When you can tell who is who, like the one time Parad possesses Emu, he doesnât know how Emu talks...even though heâs supposed to be âMâ and should know how Emu speaks⌠I donât know if thatâs Emuâs actor, Hiroki Iijima, not being able to act as âMâ or Yuya Takahashi not knowing how to write a character with a split personality. Whatever it was, the split personality part was very hard to follow. Thereâs also times where Takahashi tries to make Emu a badass and it comes off very awkward and out of character. One scene I wanna bring up is the one where Emu straight-up murders Parad. Thereâs no build-up to it, no foreshadowing, no indication whatsoever. He brutally beats up Parad and âkills him.â All to teach him a lesson about humanity and death. Itâs so out of character and cruel for a character thatâs supposed to be empathetic and caring. And all because we needed another âshock death.â It felt like Takahashi wanted to do this scene and he was going to do it no matter how little sense it made.
Hiiro: The hot embarrassing himbo.Thereâs being tsundere and then thereâs being a dick and Hiiro is a massive dick. I got where Takahashi wanted to go with him. Hiiro is a man who lost someone he loved and he is still suffering from it, however, in my opinion it wasnât executed well. The only scenes we see of Hiiro and his girlfriend, Saki, together before she âdiesâ are when heâs being a total dick to her and when she succumbs to the virus. Thatâs it. If we had scenes where they were a loving couple, I could be more sympathetic to Hiiro but heâs no different before Saki died and after. Heâs just an asshole and yes, I get that some people are simply assholes, but if you want me to care about your character then donât make them assholes without subsistence! This whole subplot could have been half the length with how long they dragged it out too. Speaking of which⌠Saki: Who is Saki? What did she like to do? What dreams did she have that didnât center around her boyfriend? Saki was a McGuffin. A McGuffin for Hiiro to obtain. Hell, I think even Masamune describes Saki as a princess trapped in a castle at one point. She was an object. I really hate saying that but thereâs no better way to describe it. Sheâs an object in human form for our heroes to obtain. If Saki was given a character at all, I wouldnât be as pissed as I am with her treatment. Taiga: What is better than a character thatâs an asshole for no reason? How about TWO characters that are assholes for no reason! Taiga wasnât interesting by himself. I didnât care about him or his âstrugglesâ (which barely got to see in the show proper anyway) The only times he was was when heâs with Nico, but other than that I really didnât care for him.
Kuroto: The villain of the first half of the show that becomes a meme. I donât have too much to say about Kuroto, just that itâs clear Takahashi had a set plan for Kuroto that got thrown away once he came back. His character was done better in Build with Gentoku and from what Iâm hearing about Zero-One, Gai as well.Â
Parad: Creepy gremlin that should not have been "M" â I didnât understand life that couldnât continue.â No you understood, you lying sack a shit. In all seriousness, Parad never felt like he was a âfull characterâ to me. He always felt like nothing more than a lackey like Graphite. Speaking of GraphiteâŚ
Graphite: If there was an award for the most wasted character in toku, heâd be it. He was the bugster created from Sakiâs death. He was Hiiroâs and Taigaâs antagonist and what did they do with him? Throw him under the bus for half the show, force his ass back and then he dies a few episodes later⌠what a character The Tone: This was the worst aspect of this show for me. One moment, there will be a serious scene and then a second later, wack zany shinanigines happenes. Like the whole scene where Hiiro and Emu are talking about Kiriyaâs death and Emu trips over himself. Or when a character dies and the voice pops in with cheery fanfair and says âGAME CLEARâ Itâs like this show wants to tell this deep dramatic, story but you got clowns running aorund in the background honking.Â
Overall Thoughts: This show wasnât for me. I couldnât take it as seriously as it wanted me to. I could go on and on about Ex-Aid but I think this sums up my feelings fairly well. I have a lot of Rider shows to get to. Who knows maybe there will be a season worst than this one but for right now Kamen Rider Ex-Aid is the worst season Iâve seen yet. It goes in the âtrashâ tier.Â
(I have watched Kamen Rider Black and Gaim, but itâs been YEARS since Iâve seen them and I donât feel confident to rank them with how long ago Iâve watched them. Also Iâm ranking Amazons season 1. Havenât watched season 2 yet)Â
#kamen rider ex aid#kamen rider ex-aid#kamen rider build#kamen rider amazons#kamen rider#redrosereviews#tier list#ex aid negativity
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Riley, you are one of the few people I know who loves Shakespeare as much as I do. Which makes me want to ask you the tough question: do you have a favorite play? Or a favorite memory associated with a play? Do share đđ¤
*vibrates a normal amount*
Hnnngggg ok. Ok so I said before that my first, my very first, introduction to Shakespeare was Romeo and Juliet in 9th grade and I hated it. It left me with the impression that Shakespeare was just another one of those things that people liked because it was old and therefore A Classic and I didnât get what was actually compelling about a story where two kids died in such a preventable way. (Again please also recognize I was a baby aroace who Super Did Not Get It and still Does Not because itâs fucking dumb ok.)
I remember liking learning about the language, because again, this was our introduction to âShakespeareâ as a whole and while we only read one play we also were taught about iambic pentameter and the sonnet form at the same time. I remember thinking that part was cool but disliking the actual play. And we did even watch a version in class, this wasnât a question of âoh I didnât get it because I couldnât see it actedâ (weâll come back to that) we watched the Zepherelli version in class and actually had the option of staying after school to watch the Leo DiCaprio one too. I saw both and still didnât like the story.
But.Â
In 10th grade we read Macbeth. And crucially, before we got to it in class, my mom decided I was old enough she was allowed to start using me as an excuse to see plays that she wanted to go to. This included the production my high school drama club was putting on which was a dinner theatre style play called âA Banquet at Dunsinaneâ.
What it was was essentially the last half of Macbeth starting at the banquet scene where Macbeth sees the ghost and everything starts going to hell in a handbasket. The âdinner theatreâ part of it was that the audience functioned as all the filler guests at the banquet; we were set up in the schoolâs cafeteria arranged in a long rectangle with a âhead tableâ for the actors and the stage space in the middle.
I know thereâs been plenty of stuff written about how live actors feed off the audience energy in the room and how live performances are unique and charged with a special kind of energy thatâs only able to be there because of the relationship and the implicit trust between the performers and the audience but the fact of the matter is, live theatre hits different.Â
You can read the stage directions for Lady Macduff running off stage from her sonâs murderer and you can see an actor do it on screen but when you are sitting in the room when she runs for her life literally screaming bloody murder (the stage direction is âExit Lady Macduff crying âmurderâ pursued by murderersâ and the girl doing it in the version I saw had a hell of a set of pipes on her, she also actually physically exited the building through the cafeteria doors and the SLAM of the push bar when she hit it was An Effect let me tell you) it just hits different.
After that I was absolutely hooked, so if you want my opinion itâs this: if you want someone to get into a play, any play but Shakespeare especially, watch it before you read it and make sure itâs a live performance. Either actually attending one or finding a recording of one works imo, but the live aspect of it makes all the difference. Now. This is the part where I link a bunch of Shakespeare stuff I think is cool lol.
This is the YouTube page for the National Theatre in Britain, theyâve been putting some of their past Shakespeare performances up for free (temporarily) because of COVID so if you keep an eye on it you might be able to see some really cool shit. They just had âA Midsummer Nightâs Dreamâ up, that was awesome.Â
This is a short video with a linguist and his (actor) son talking about âoriginal pronunciationâ in Shakespearian works and how theyâve been able (more or less) to âreconstructâ the âaccentâ that Shakespearian works âshouldâ have been performed it; the accent that makes rhymes actually work and reveal puns (filthy puns because this is Shakespeare ofc) that weâve lost to time because pronunciation changes. Itâs really fucking cool and I highly recommend.
This is The Complete Works of William Shakespeare, Abridged which is imo a must-watch for every Shakespeare fan, it is absolutely hysterical and is clearly written and performed by people who love and appreciate Shakespeare. Iâve seen it live twice as well as this version, 10/10 recommend.
Other Shakespeare things I recommend: - Slings and Arrows, a Canadian show about a theatre company trying to put on Shakespeare plays while hijinks ensue, each season arc ends up loosely mirroring the play they are putting on. (s1: Hamlet, s2: Macbeth, s3: King Lear) - Bill, a comedy/satire about âShakespeareâs beginningsâ done by the same people who do âHorrible Historiesâ. Itâs witty and referential and includes a trans character (if you would like details on that please message me). - Shakespeare in Love, a movie (romcom mostly but also kinda not) about Shakespeare writing Romeo and Juliet while also lowkey living it. A lot better than the title suggests imo and I love it for the audience at the end reacting to the death scenes because itâs the first time anyone has seen how Romeo and Juliet ends. - ShakespeaRetold, a mini series the BBC put together that is modern adaptations of Macbeth, Much Ado About Nothing, A Midsummer Nightâs Dream, and The Taming of the Shrew. (This is the version of Macbeth with James MacAvoy and the âwhen pigs flyâ thing which is great, and the version of Much Ado where Hero is played by Billie Piper and at the end sheâs basically like âno fuck you, youâre a dickâ which is HELLA GREAT.) I recommend it because this particular adaption actually made me LIKE Taming of the Shrew because of how they played it which is a MASSIVE accomplishment because that show is pretty controversial. This is the clip I show people as an example of why I love it.
Anyway I love Shakespeare a normal amount, why do you ask.
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Request; Kombat Krew and them falling for you+ Saying I love you.
I guess this is a sequel to them flirting? Not even sure. But this is a kind of when they realised, they loved you, and when they actually confessed it. Trashy, kind of long and not as many characters as I wanted to include. But itâs still warm and sticky over here, writing on my laptop is really uncomfortable! I will do a part two I swear. Under the cut due to length. Warnings; Little NSFW, NSFW implied I guess? Better to be on the safe side. 18+. Angst, mentions of angst, fluff, tooth rotting fluff. Trash. GIFS do not belong to me.
Sub Zero (Kuai Liang);
¡        Kuai Liang is a complex man. A complex man full of ice puns and good advice. A shame he can never take his own advice. Not that he has much to give in terms of romance.
¡        He realises he is attracted to you slowly. Itâs not a massive âOh dear, oh dear, I seem to have fallen for Y/N!â situation no. It takes a little bit for him to realise that he does have, more advanced feelings. Feelings that go past the usual, friendship type which he shares with the majority of people.
¡        What brings him to the realisation that he has strong romantic feelings for you are quite varied. You laughing at his puns and jokes, you debating with him and holding a conversation with him. The fact he can stay awake with you and discuss various things, no matter how stupid they may seem to him. And the fact that you listen to him and actually take his advice, lord knows someone should!
¡        He will end up confessing his initial attraction to you one night. You both cannot sleep, so youâre sat atop the temple watching the snow flurries fall.
¡        Heâs nervous. His throat feels dry and he has no idea what to say to you. How does one profess their attraction? Bi-Han told him to compliment you, but everything seems so crude and forward. Smoke told him to write it down and give you it. That seemed lazy and cowardly. Heâs the fucking Grandmaster of Lin Kuei. Heâs fought through hell, and yet, he cannot confess his attraction to you.
¡        He is literally Shang from Mulan. âYou fight Goodâ but instead he talks about how committed and loyal you are. How youâve got honour and he respects you. Before getting a little sweeter and managing to choke out a few words, on how he feels strongly towards you.
¡        His ears are bright red by the time he says he wishes to be with you, if you want him that is, he understands. As Jonny says, cold hands are not ideal for much.
¡        You swear you hear him squeak a little when you plant a kiss on his cheek. Admitting the attraction is mutual. Queue him smiling and laughing, before wrapping an arm slowly and tentatively around you.
¡        No one can see you. So, this is fine. He can be Kuai Liang, a guy who just got himself the best partner in the world tonight.
¡        The âI love youâ comes later on. Itâs when youâre both in bed one night. His frosty breath ghosting your neck. One arm around your waist, holding him to you tightly. Not wanting to ever let go. Heâll whisper it before planting a cold laden kiss to the back of your neck. When you sleepily utter it back, he feels content, tightening the grip on your waist.
Smoke;
¡        What. Is. This. Fucking. Feeling. If you thought Kuai was bad, meet Smoke, Smoke is 110% worse. He wants to scream, because even though heâs read many a book, he cannot find the right words to say to you.
¡        Luckily, he wrote it in his rainbow unicorn dream journal, and it happens to be Bi-Hans favourite book. So, have no fear, the better Sub-Zero Brother is here! His words not mine. Bi-Han gives terrible love advice, but he does listen to how he fell for you.
¡        He got hit with the realisation, that he had the feels for you, pretty damn hard. So hard, it nearly knocked him out. But Iâll get to that later. Youâd known each other a bit. You both used to read the same book, before discussing it when neither of you could sleep. Which is often with Smoke, since he has a smoke demon living within him, one that sometimes, will not shut the fuck up (Iâm going off the HC that itâs like a Symbiote relationship. Eddie and Venom style, since Smoke can turn into an Enenra)
¡        Youâre both discussing the latest chapter in the current novel youâre reading. Youâre hands briefly touched, and he just could not cope. It had been a while since heâd been touched that softly. For the rest of the night, he was immersed with watching you speak, didnât matter what you were saying. He wanted to hear it.
¡        Before you left, you mentioned there was a book you were looking for but could not find. After you left, Smoke hunted that fucker down. Top shelf, to the right, behind Bi-Hanâs âforbidden bookâ Long story short, he slipped, fell and the book fell onto his head. Nearly knocking him out. Nobody saw, so itâs fine.
¡        âYou love Y/N, we love them too. They have a niceâŚâ That damn Enenra will not stop discussing you. He wants to meet you, but that is never happening. Not in a million fucking years. Never. Smoke doesnât like fucking meeting him, why the fuck would he let it meet you?
¡        He struggles with what to say. Bi-Han suggested just being out-right and forward. If it failed, he could always leave the temple and become a smoke machine. Really not helping.
¡        In the end he does write you a note. He slips it into the book youâve been looking for. It details how he was struggling to say the words, so he thought heâd write them for you. He highlights about what he loves about you. How soft you are with him, how you help braid his hair, how you laugh at his jokes and how you arenât afraid of him.
¡        He doesnât expect you to be so quick with you reply, if at all. The Enenra does fill him with doubt. Doubt that you could ever love someone like him. Well, jokes on it. When Smoke returns from training, he went extra hard to try and take his mind off of the note; heâs surprised to see youâre sat waiting for him in his room.
¡        Youâre holding the note and smiling. Heâs about to speak, but you quickly cut him off, listing everything you love about him. How he smiles, his grey eyes and how they remind you of the sea. How heâs essentially a warm beacon of light in this frozen hell. How he smells of apples all the time. And how when youâre sick, heâll always bring you soup and read to you.
¡        The âI love youâ comes when youâre both ice skating. He said there was a frozen lake near the temple. Nobody goes there, because whatâs the point? So, itâd be a nice chance to be alone for once.  Heâs actually pretty damn good at it. Not surprising since, you know, heâs essentially a ninja. But heâs got an arm around you, youâre both kind of just spinning, heâs a firm grip so no chances of you falling. It tumbles from his lips after you share a quick kiss. When you say it back, he canât help but smile and press his forehead to yours.
Kabal;
¡        Pre-Burn; For Kabal. When he gets the feels, he gets them HARD. Heâs a laidback guy so heâs not going to get flustered. Heâs just gotta make sure you feel the same. And also, that he can make it a day to remember when he confesses. Â
¡        He realised he was attracted to you, when you were training together. The Fight Club had closed early. Kano was away, it was dead, so you decided to close up shop. Kabal offered to stay back and help you clean up. Youâd been flirting for fucking weeks.
¡        It turned into you wanting to learn to throw a punch. Kabal was more than happy to help. Youâre both joking about, youâre trying to hit the air and stumbling. Both of you are laughing, having a good time and then BAM. THE FEELS ARE THERE. He catches you when you stumble and pulls you close.
¡        Suddenly this whole plan of him taking you out to dinner and a movie goes to shit. He kind of just leans in and kisses you. When you kiss back, it affirms that you have feelings for him.
¡        After you break apart, he confesses that heâs been attracted to you for a while, and he thinks heâs falling for you pretty hard. Heâll ask if you want proof of how much heâs fallen for you. Because if you want proof, he can show you something heâs not shown anyone but Erron before.
¡        Youâre a little bit curious so, fuck it why not. That and spending time with him is always a bonus.
¡        Brings you back to his apartment and will literally show you his living room. Itâs decked in nerdy memorabilia, the latest console and a high-spec gaming PC; which is logged into his trolling WoW account.
¡        Whilst youâre busy looking at his action figures and comic books. And his extensive collection of Johnny Cage films (Youâll have to talk about that later to him, since he told you he hated them.) Heâs busy fumbling around in his bedroom.
¡        When he returns you see heâs wearing thick framed glasses. He asks you not to laugh. And to not tell anyone. But yeah, Erron only saw this shit because he barged in un-invited one day. Saw Kabal sat there, near butt ass naked, watching TV with his glasses on. Heâd have seen it all if the Pizza box hadnât been covering his dick.
¡        When you burst out laughing at his story, it kind of cements that he has feelings for you. He loves to make you laugh, because itâs the sweetest sound in the world.
¡        He will tell you that. And then asks if itâs proof enough, when you say no, but a kiss would. Heâs more than happy to oblige.
¡        The âI love youâ portion comes further down the line. Youâre both sat in the car, belting out some absolute fucking classics. He looks over, catches you smiling and singing along like thereâs no tomorrow. Still in your pjs, because you both decided a late-night drive was a great idea. He just cannot stop smiling, youâre all his. He just randomly says it. It does make you spit out your Mcflurry though.
¡        Post-Burn; Okay so this is angst central. The confident and laidback Kabal has gone. Replaced with Self-loathing. He hates his appearance now. So when the feels hit him, he starts to feel guilty, why should you be saddled with him?
¡        The feels and realisation that comes with them, rise up when you help take care of him after his accident. When you offer to rub lotion on his skin, offer to help with his mask and gear. The fact you visited him in the hospital every day. You offer to go out and grab his shopping or to get medicine, when he doesnât feel like leaving the house. The fact you arenât ashamed to be seen with him. God, he loves you.
¡        The fact you donât mind going out in public with him, does put some of his self-doubt to rest. But not a lot.
¡        He ends up confessing his attraction one evening. He couldnât sleep one hot and sticky night. His skin is extra sensitive after the accident, so hot nights kill him off. He merely messaged you casually, explaining what was going on and asking if you were up; safe to say it came as a surprise to see you at his door, takeout in hand.
¡        You both end up eating pizza and watching a movie. The AC is now cranked on full. You end up asking if itâs okay to cuddle up to him. Heâs nervous and stuttering but he says yes. He needs to be a bit more adventurous.
¡        Youâre falling asleep, cuddled into him, eyes half-lidded fighting to stay awake. Heâs laying back, stroking your hair and enjoying the feel of having someoneâs skin against his own.
¡        He ends up mumbling that heâs falling for you and heâs sorry for that. Queue you sitting up, arms stretched out to wrap around his neck. Telling him to never apologise for giving you what you want. Heâll press his masked forehead to yours, hands clutched in his, with him caressing the knuckles.
¡        The âI love youâ Post-Burn is such a tender moment. Itâs very raw and emotional. Heâll have taken his mask off to show you his face. When you accept him, caressing over the creases of his skin, slowly fluttering your fingertips. He feels so warm and content. He closes his eyes, leaning into your touch. After you kiss him for the first time, heâll breathlessly utter it. His breath will hitch waiting for your retort; heâll only relax when you say it back. Heâll smile, making eye contact before stroking your face. Youâre everything he could have ever wanted and hoped for.
¡        Crispy Kabal is such a sweetheart. And I fucking love him.
Erron Black;
¡        Aw hell no. After Nitara and Skarlet, he swore no more feels. But then he met you and well, aw shit here we go again.
¡        Erron is confident in his approach and is not ashamed to admit his feelings. If he has feelings for you, heâs going to tell you. Heâs very straight forward like that. No point wasting precious time you two could be dating after all.
¡        He realises he is attracted to you when heâs teaching you to shoot his pistol. Heâs got his arm around your waist, hand helping to adjust your aim; and youâre sort of dressed a little like him. You did it as a joke, but you look mighty fine in that poncho and hat.
¡        Heâs impressed with your aim for a rookie, heâll compliment you on it and admit heâs mighty impressed. Pretty face, good aim and as sweet as sugar, ainât you the complete package Thatâs enough to make you blush.
¡        Heâll take his hat off and ask if you fancy just grabbing a drink. Heâs got a lot to tell you. Mostly about how heâs falling for you. By the end of the night, heâll have listed off nearly everything about you. Which is on the âwhat I adore about youâ list.
¡        Heâll love how youâre blushing and laughing. Heâll wrap an arm around you and ask if you fancy tagging along with him. He needs a solid partner, someone he can rely on and can go with the flow. You do all that.
¡        Heâs such a charmer in all honesty.
¡        Him saying âI love youâ comes one night when youâre camping. You went for a hike, set up camp and youâve been chatting bubbles for the past few hours. He was telling you all about his life, by god heâs lived a long one and has a lot of stories. Youâre laid in between his legs, looking up at the stars. Whilst he makes up constellations.
¡        Each time you go along with his made up bullshittery he smiles and laughs a little to himself. The three words just escape his mouth, heâs pretty relieved you say it back. Heâs never really said âI love youâ before. It makes him feel all soft and fuzzy inside. It is time he settles down he thinks.
Scorpion (Hanzo Hasashi);
¡        This man is the most conflicted out of everyone. He cannot be falling for someone else. He feels guilty, how could he be doing this? He feels joy, he can finally feel again and not be emotionally numb. He feels scared, he doesnât want to lose you. He feels nervous, he knows what to do and what to say. But that doesnât mean heâs confident about it.
¡        He, like Kuai, realised that he was falling for you slowly and it was over a period of time. He didnât just think âOH DAMNâ not that heâd ever think that. It was small things. How youâd bring him tea after his morning meditation. How youâd meditate with him, do yoga and train with him. To you making him little paper cranes and leaving them around him.
¡        The thing that made him realise that he was falling in love with you; was one night, the two of you were sat drinking and you asked him to dance. He doesnât do dancing⌠but he couldnât say no to you, not when you were looking up at him like that.
¡        One thing he does do is swaying. He can sway like no tomorrow. He ends up swaying with you. He can feel your heartbeat against his chest, you fit so nicely in his arms, and you feel so warm.
¡        Heâll end up leaving quickly, excusing himself, the guilt becoming too much for him to cope with. He cannot do this⌠or can he? He ends up asking Takeda for advice, who in the end, says itâs okay to eventually move on.
¡        Youâll go back to your room and heâs sat there on your bed. Heâs smiling nervously before apologising and confessing why he left. Heâs attracted to you and itâs making him feel guilty. Youâll have to take things slow with him, but it is worth it in the end.
¡        The sacred three words comes a bit later. More so than the others. He feels conflicted and he over-thinks saying it so much. What does he say? How does he say it? What if you donât say it back?
¡        In the end it sort of happens naturally and when heâs not even thinking about it. Youâre both walking through the Fire Gardens. Youâre asking him some questions about it. You both stop on the bridge. He pops a blossom in your hair, smiling as you adjust it and look up at him. The words leave his lips so quickly that he doesnât think. Heâs racked with fear and guilt, till the words leave your mouth in return. Then those feelings subside, replaced by happiness and joy. Â
#Mortal Kombat#Mortal Kombat x reader#Sub Zero#Scorpion#kabal#Erron Black#Smoke#Kuai Liang#Hanzo Hasashi#tomas vrbada#Sub Zero x reader#Scorpion x reader#Erron Black x reader#Smoke x reader#Kuai Liang x reader#Hanzo Hasashi x reader#tomas vrbada x reader#Mk#mk11#mortal kombat 11
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