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troubatrain · 4 years ago

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want you to want me - m. tkachuk

a/n: i’m 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 couldn’t stop writing. now we’re at a whopping 10k words and i’m 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 Matthew’s dream girl, and you didn’t 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 wouldn’t 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 you’d 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, you’d done something in a past life to warrant dealing with Matthew for longer than you ever anticipated. Jamie was your little sister, and Taryn’s 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 Tkachuk’s. 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 didn’t want you to just tolerate him, but he didn’t know how to get you to stop hating him. You make your way over to Matthew who’d been standing next to his brother since the start of your sister’s game.

“Hi Brady,” 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, who’d made a promise to catch a game the second he could, “Hi Matthew.”

You were waiting for something from Matthew, an acknowledgement for finally achieving a dream of yours. You’d gotten the congratulations from the rest of his family, a massive celebration because Keith thought you deserved it. Matthew probably didn’t think you did. You could practically hear his smug little voice about how much his recently inked contract was compared to yours, because you’d heard it since you were kids. He used to rip on your athletic abilities every chance he could, something about how it didn’t matter how hard you could kick a ball you couldn’t hold a hockey stick so he was just better.

“You’re here!” You hear the chipper voice of your little sister approach, Jamie’s sweaty postgame arms wrapped around your waist. You’d been in Chicago, signing some paperwork and looking into finding a place to stay when you had to go for camp. You promised you’d 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 didn’t know how to handle having a crush on you.

But Brady was going to do it himself if his brother didn’t.

***

Matt, you don’t have a girlfriend right?

Matthew knew damn well he should not have answered his sister’s 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 he’d 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, he’d come home and wonder when he’d start to build a life for himself, and if he’d 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 you’d both spend supporting the other’s dream. Matthew would do anything to make sure you achieved yours, and he thought you’d do the same. Then you’d 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 - he’d 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.

“Y/N doesn’t have a boyfriend,” Your sister hums, sipping the smoothie they forced Matthew to drive them to go get, “It’s sad actually-”

“We think you should date,” Taryn explains, Matthew’s eyes went wide. His sister didn’t 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.

“I know you know Y/N doesn’t like me very much,” Matthew explains, “So tell me how that’s going to work.”

“Apologize to her, if she can forgive me for anything she’ll forgive you,” Jamie sighs, thinking of all the times you’d shown her mercy when she didn’t deserve it.

“You’ve got to be sorry,” Brady interrupts, mouth full of food while he goes to go look for more in the fridge. He turns around, Matthew’s eyes giving him daggers, “What? You were a dick to her for years, you’ve got to fix that first.”

It didn’t take much convincing after that, Taryn had already planned out what Matthew should say to you. Matthew wasn’t going to repeat those words, because he knew exactly what he’d 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.

So with the help of your little sister and the Find my Friends app, Matthew was pulling up to a soccer field he’d 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.

“I’ve never been good at those,” Matthew calls out, walking over to you while you stopped and caught your breath, “I kick the cones with my skate every single time.”

“Maybe you’re not as good as you think you are,” You tease, grabbing your water and guzzling it down, “What are you doing here?”

“I, uh, I came to apologize?” Matthew admits, knowing his face was probably bright red. He was nervous, the good kind like he got before a big game, “I was just an insecure kid then, and you didn’t deserve what I did just because I was afraid you’d beat in something.”

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 he’d just apologized sooner. It was so long ago, and sometimes you thought Matthew’s 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 didn’t 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.

“I mean I could forgive you, but only if you beat me,” You cross your arms, raising an eyebrow at Matthew, “If I win, I don’t have to and if you win all is forgiven.”

“Really? Isn’t that why we were in this situation to begin with?” Matthew points out, crossing his arms at you.

“I thought you weren’t that kid anymore,” You remind of his own words, testing him to see if he’d put his money where his mouth was. Matthew smirks, chuckling to himself, “C’mon Tkachuk let’s see what you got.”

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 didn’t think he was going to win. You were going to forgive him regardless, but Matthew didn’t 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.

“God, you’re such a fucking cheater Matthew,” You hit his chest, Matthew’s hands still firmly placed on your hips.

“I didn’t want to lose,” Matthew admits, all of his smug attitude diminishing immediately, “Just want you to forgive me.”

“I’ll forgive you if you never pull that shit on me again,” You poke his chest, slipping out of his grip and running to your stuff before he could notice how nervous he was making you.

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 couldn’t 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 didn’t 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.

“You’re friends now, you don’t need to stare at her like a creep anymore,” Brady scoffs, watching his brother gawk at you from afar. Matthew couldn’t 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 it’s because you smiled at him when he walked instead of scowling like you usually did.

“He’s in love with you,” Steph giggles, sipping her drink and giving Matthew a side eye, “He’s been staring at you all night.”

“He apologized to me,” You confess, holding in that little secret about Matthew’s visit to the field even from your best friend. You had the same friends, the same group of people who’d been pushing the two of you to work it out for years. It wasn’t that you didn’t 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 didn’t totally deserve your protection - you were going to give it to him, “Don’t-”

“Oh wonder why, I know it’s because he looooves you,” Steph teases, “Did you forgive him?”

“Yeah I mean we’re both older and I’d like to think he’s wiser, and besides our parents are way too close,” 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 you’d spend with anyone and you're just as close with the rest of their family. It wasn’t untrue that it was in fact for the best, but that didn’t mean Matthew’s stupid dimples didn’t persuade you before you could think about anyone else, “Can we stop talking about this?”

Matthew’s eyes didn’t leave you once that night, especially after the way Steph downed tequila shots and convinced you to join her. You deserved to celebrate, you’d accomplished something Matthew knew was your biggest dream because it was the same as his. He was proud of you, not that he’d gotten a chance to show it.

“If you’re going to go pro Y/N, you’ve got to start keeping up,” 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 he’d see it again.

“I’ll go pro in beating your ass Brady,” You snap back, shooting daggers over Brady who was already cracking up, “Hi Matthew.”

“Hi,” Matthew’s 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, “Want to play? Might be best if we’re on the same team.”

Matthew’s thumb shot over to the beer pong set up on the other side of the room, a mischievous smirk on face, “I mean if it’s for the best.”

Matthew’s arm wrapped around your shoulders holding you close to his chest while you both played pong was definitely not for the best, and it wasn’t helping that stupid crush you had on him. You could feel Steph’s stare from the corner of the room, and you look at her to mouth a don’t at her. It was nice having Matthew on your team, finally a moment where instead of arguing with each other about who’s elbow was clearly over the table - you got to do the same thing to Brady.

“Brady you’re cheating,” You call out, Matthew’s head thrown back in laughter at your seriousness.

“You heard her Brady, elbows over the table,” Matthew breathes out, his body still rumbling with laughter at his little brother’s expense.

“Oh look at you two, you’re just gonna raise some winners one day aren’t you?” 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 Matthew’s arm in hopes no one saw the way you shrunk at that stupid joke.

“We’re winners right now,” 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, “Alright drunky I think it’s time to get you home.”

“You can stay, I’ll just catch a ride with someone,” You waive Matthew off, who shook his head no at you before you even started speaking.

“One, my dad would kick my ass if he knew I left you,” Matthew starts with, holding up one finger with another on the way, “Two, we’re friends now and I’d like to make sure you don’t die before you see a pro game.”

Matthew had seen you this drunk before, but what he didn’t 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 Matthew’s parents place and if he could at least get you there he’d be able to call it a night - which wasn’t fucking easy.

“Alright I’ve had enough,” 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, “Be quiet, go up to my room and get some clothes and go sleep in the guest room.”

You weren’t 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 weren’t 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, Matthew’s 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.

“Care to explain?” Chantal smirks, raising her eyebrows at her son. Matthew’s face got red, his landing on the back of his neck to cover the blush.

“She fell asleep before I could even get her to the guest room,” Matthew shrugs, hoping his mom wouldn’t push it any further, “I, uh, apologized the other day.”

“Good,” Chantal hums, a knowing look on her face. She didn’t 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, “Here, bring her a coffee, I’m sure she needs it.”

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 didn’t think the same thing.

“Did I fall asleep here?” You’d woken up confused, your question only answered by the jerseys hanging on the walls, you were in Matthew’s room. You rub your eyes, the door creaking open way too loudly for how dead you felt.

“Only after you almost fell down the stairs and ran three blocks in the wrong direction,” Matthew chuckles, sitting on the edge of the bed and handing you the mug, “You know you’re fast right?”

“Yeah,” You muse, smirking to yourself and taking a sip of coffee, “I’m sorry I did that to you, and stole your bed - I can go.”

Matthew stopped you, telling to finish your coffee and relax and he’d 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 wasn’t something he thought he’d see, but it was better than he imagined.

***

“Hey it’s Jamie, can’t get to the phone right now…”

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 you’d cover for her, definitely taking the prize home for the cool older sister who picks her siblings and their friends up from parties. That’s what had you so worried. Sure, Jamie was a teenager and she snuck in a few little white lies with your parents just like you’d done, but Jamie always told you the truth. She’d check in with you more than her parents, letting you know that she’s going to be out late but she’s 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 didn’t hear anything, so naturally you double texted and now it’s twelve thirty and you still haven’t 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 weren’t even sure would work.

“Hello?” Matthew’s 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.

“Is my sister at your house?” 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 Taryn’s 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, “She was supposed to be home by midnight.”

“Alright, thanks anyways,” You sigh, “Do you know where they might have gone? It’s just, Jamie hasn’t answered me in hours and she usually does even if she’s out past curfew and I’m just-”

“I’ll be at your house in ten,” 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.

“You look mad,” You observe, as if it wasn’t completely obvious. You knew why, trying countless times to remind Taryn that her brother loves her and that’s why he’s like that. You thought he could go a little easier on her, but you wouldn’t dare get in the middle of that.

“I am mad,” Matthew grits out, knuckles white on his steering wheel while he drives slowly down the street. You just drove, in hopes you’d find what was obviously a house party and hopes your sisters were inside. You squint, hoping your eyes weren’t fooling you.

“Wait, pull over I think I see my neighbor,” You yell, Matthew’s foot flying on the break and you hop out. You were right, the bright orange tuft of hair you saw was like a miracle, “Hey Henry have you seen my sister?”

“Oh yeah I think she’s still inside,” Henry points to the house behind him, music blasting and a party in full swing, “I think she’s with Taryn.”

Matthew hops out of the car, grabbing your hand and pulling you into the house with him. Matthew’s fingers were laced with yours with every step he took, weaving through the crowd in hopes you’d 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 wasn’t the worst thing to stumble upon. You throw her hair up, your attention moving to Matthew yelling at his sister in the hallway.

“Why didn’t you call someone,” 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 didn’t know what to do. Of course they didn’t. 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.

“Calm down before you talk to her, please,” You plead, grabbing Matthew’s shoulders, “Besides, I sort of need some help right now.”

There it was. The very moment Matthew realized all along you could’ve 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 he’d 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 he’d 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.

“Thank you, I know we’re working on this friendship thing but you really didn’t have to do that,” You were eternally grateful, wrapping your arms around Matthew’s waist and tucking your head into his chest.

“You’d do the same thing for Taryn,” Matthew hums, knowing full well he definitely owed you for being Taryn’s replacement sibling with him and Brady in Canada for most of the year, “Get some rest okay?”

“Wait,” You stop Matthew, grabbing his hand one more time, “Don’t kill your sister, please she’s just a kid-”

“You’re way too easy on them,” 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 didn’t mean he wasn’t 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 sister’s grin in the backseat, “Don’t say it.”

She held your hand, are you sure you’re not going to malfunction now?

***

Maybe you were spiraling.

You’d 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 weren’t? You could feel the anxiety settling in, a feeling you hadn’t felt since Matthew told you soccer wasn’t a real sport in fourth grace. It’d 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 didn’t 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 wasn’t that he was jealous of your work ethic, he was worried. Matthew’s eyes followed you as you ran past his house again. The third time in one day, he’d 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.

“What are you doing here?” 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.

“You’re overworking yourself,” Matthew stands his ground, he knew you could have told him to fuck off because no one hates advice they didn’t ask for quite like him, “Don’t tell me I’m wrong.”

“That’s rich coming from the kid who’s played with more broken bones than anyone I know,” You remind him of a few mistakes Matthew’s made playing through injuries he really shouldn’t, “I’m not fucking frail.”

“That’s not what this is about,” Matthew scoffs, it never once crossed his mind that he thought he was tough enough to play through injuries but you weren’t, “It’s about taking a break so you don’t get hurt.”

“I’m fine,” 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.

“Tell me what’s wrong?” 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 you’d been putting on your body with no breaks.

“What if I never score a goal?” You whisper, teary eyes finally meeting Matthew’s. His brows shot up, alarmed at how one of the best athletes he’s 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, “What if I’m just a bust? Like I get there and nothing works and I suck.”

“You’ll score eventually,” Matthew scoffs, understanding how ridiculous you sounded but just how you felt at the same time, “Everyone does.”

“You scored like four games into your fucking career Matt,” 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 didn’t 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 you’d take to the grave.

“I got suspended my first season too,” Matthew jokes, a teary eyed laugh escaping your lips, “I’d put down money you score in your first game.”

“Well good thing you have money to lose,” You sigh dramatically, the fear of fucking up still on your mind.

“You’ll find your groove, all legends do,” 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, “And if you don’t, you can always hide out in Canada with me.”

“Matty!” The same silly nickname Matthew introduced himself to you on your very first day of kindergarten slipped through your lips without realizing it. Matthew hadn’t been called that in ages, but it was welcome from you. You push his chest, “That’s not making me feel any better.”

“What if I told you the only reason I was so mean to you was because I was intimidated by how talented you were?” Matthew confesses, scratching your head with his fingers, “If I win a cup one day I think I owe you one.”

Matthew didn’t mention that in his wildest fantasies of raising that cup over his head, you were there. He’d 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, you’d tell him to go see his parents first but he’d 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 you’d 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.

“Legally you have to let me drink out of it,” You muse, shutting your eyes and letting yourself just rest against Matthew.

“It has to be Bud Light,” 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 didn’t 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 didn’t 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. Taryn’s words were replaying in your head, Matt doesn’t even care if I get hurt. That didn’t mean anything, those two had no idea what love was and Matthew caring about you a little bit didn’t mean he loved you. Besides, the way he was acting right now told a completely different story.

“Are you mad at me?” You finally slow down, sitting on a rock that was next to the hiking trail you were on.

“No?” Matthew stops dead in his tracks, his heart sinking to the pit of his stomach that he fucked this up too, “I’m fine, don’t worry about it.”

“No, tell me what’s wrong,” 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.

“Some stupid article about my letter, don’t worry about it,” Matthew grits, repeating his words again. His defense was up, even after you confessed to him that you were scared of not being enough.

“Get the fuck out of here with the tough guy act Matthew,” You challenge him, poking him right in the chest, “If we’re going to be friends you need to cut that shit out.”

“You really want to hear it?” Matthew barks back, fully yelling at you, “I’m tired of people thinking I don’t deserve things because I threw a few bad hits. Do you know how it feels to have everyone think you’re shitty? No you don’t, because you’re so fucking perfect that my own parents like you more than me.”

You stood there, silent while you tried to figure out how to tell him that simply wasn’t true. His entire body was shaking, the anger coursing through his veins like you’d 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 couldn’t come close to understanding the way he probably felt. You didn’t have the comparables in your own family, the constant reminders of Brady’s points tally compared to his, let alone the career his father had.

“Matty,” You whisper, grabbing his hand and running your fingers over the scars on his knuckles, “Why is this bothering you so much?”

You were sure this wasn’t the first time someone’s said he was a pest, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be the last. Matthew sighed, the better part of his brain screaming at him to stop before he lost you too.

“I’ve felt like this forever,” Matthew whispers, eyes fixated on your hand in his, “From the moment I started getting bigger, there’s 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 I’m still getting shit on.”

“Except no one thinks you don’t deserve to be where you are,” You whisper, quiet words as if you were going to startle him, “And I know it doesn’t make up for things people say, but the people who love you think you deserve it.”

Matthew nods, pulling you into his arms and holding you close. Your arms wrapped around his waist, his words mumbled against your forehead, “I needed that.”

“I know,” You nod, smiling wide up at him, “And we need to practice more because you’re too slow, soooo catch me if you can!”

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 he’s 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 he’d 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 he’d gotten home and you were infatuated with him. It used to annoy you, because he’d 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.

“I’ll be in Chicago a few times you know,” Matthew hums, enjoying the time alone he was getting with you. Anytime without Brady teasing him about what the Tkachuk’s had been referring to as the hand holding incident. He didn’t want them to think he didn’t want you, because he did, but he just needed to move at his own pace.

“You want to come see me play?” 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.

“Actually thinking you could come see me play,” Matthew teases, sarcasm dripping from his words. You lifted your foot up, kicking some of the water below you to splash him, but he’d caught your ankle before you could. He stopped for a moment, running a thumb over your skin, “This looks better.”

“Don’t make you admit you were right,” You whine, Matthew swiftly pulling you into the water with him. You yelp, the water way too cold for any normal person, “It’s freezing.”

“C’mere then,” 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, “Middle school Matthew would be so jealous of me right now.”

“Why’s that?” You hum, running your fingers along Matthew to play connect the dots with the beauty marks on his skin.

“Because he had the biggest crush on you,” Matthew confesses, his grip on you a little tighter, as if he was afraid you’d slip right through his fingers again, “But he was too thick headed to do anything about it.”

“What about grown up Matthew?” 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, “Is he too thick headed to do something too?”

You wrapped your legs around Matthew’s 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, “Think we can get upstairs without anyone noticing?”

Matthew was cool most of the time. He never faltered under the pressure from his career, most of the time, and he definitely didn’t 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 you’d read this entire situation. Matthew rubs a thumb along your lip, “When are you going to realize I’d do whatever you asked me to?”

The two of you snuck up the stairs, giggles and stolen kisses left in your wake. You open the door, Matthew’s hands still toying your bathing suit top, “Just take it off already Matty.”

“Don’t have to ask me twice,” Matthew breathes, his lips pressed against your neck while the garment falls to the floor, “So fucking beautiful.”

You back hit the mattress, Matthew’s hands running up your body slowly. Slow wasn’t in Matthew’s 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 he’d 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, Matthew’s 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, “Matty, please.”

“I didn’t peg you for the type to beg,” Matthew hums, pressing feather light kisses around your core. He stopped, gripping your thighs and looking up at you, “You sure about this?”

“Yes, please,” You whine, pussy dripping from Matthew’s 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 didn’t 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, “Matty-”

“Close baby?” 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. Matthew’s 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, “So good for me.”

“Should’ve known you were that good with your mouth with the way you run it,” You tease smiling against his lips.

“Not with you, not anymore,” Matthew promises, soft blue eyes looking into yours, he meant it. He didn’t 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, “Gonna ride me babe?”

You nod, lining his dick up your core and lowering yourself on top of him. You let out a whine, Matthew’s smug smile on full display once he realized it was because of how big he was, “We don’t have to if my dick’s too big.”

“Oh shut up,” You roll your hips, watching the way Matthew’s head fell back, smirking because he really thought he had control here. Matthew’s 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 you’d never even heard yourself make, “Fuck, Matty, I’m gonna cum again.”

“Look at me,” 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, “I wasn’t bullshitting you, I mean every word Y/N.”

“Matthew,” You whisper, running a finger along his back, “The distance…”

You didn’t 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 wasn’t going to be easy, you weren’t 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 wouldn’t be able to do it. You’d get a year in and he’d find someone who would be there more and finally you’d end it.

“We can make it work, baby I want you, I always have and I probably always will,” Matthew starts, baring his soul to another person for the first time in his goddamn life, “I want to support your dreams and have you be there for mine. I’m all in here, I don’t know how else to tell you.”

“Can I have some time?” You plead, holding onto Matthew’s 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, “Please don’t leave me-”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Matthew promises, rolling over and letting your rest on his chest, “I’ll wait for you.”

You smile, snuggling closer to him. Matthew didn’t 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 didn’t he wasn’t sure he’d 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. He’d been good at keeping his distance, you needed space and he respected you enough to try and give it to you. He wasn’t 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 wasn’t 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 he’d 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.

“What number is she?” Sam asks, sipping the beer he forced Matthew to buy after making him go along with this.

“Nineteen,” 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 Matthew’s heart grow four sizes.

“Did she choose your number?” Sam jokes and Matthew mumbles something under his breath, “What?”

“It was her number first,” 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 weren’t 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 he’d argue it wasn’t. 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 you’d 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 wasn’t 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 weren’t moving on.

And Matthew watched it.

Matthew promised you space, and he swore he’d give you the time you needed to settle down. But, this was something he couldn’t 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 he’d been waiting to send.

Doors open in Calgary.

and I’m 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 couldn’t stop, every bone in your body was aching and you didn’t know what to do. So you bought a flight, packed your shit and was walking down the hallway to Matthew’s apartment without a second thought. You’d 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 wasn’t Noah after he’d had too many. It was you, teary eyed with your shit in a suitcase and a broken heart.

“I can’t stop thinking about it,” You admit, whispering something you never thought you’d say to anyone, “I just didn’t do enough-”

Matthew didn’t say a word, pulling you into a bone crushing hug and holding you as tightly as he could. You didn’t need to hear it from him, about how things were out of your control and you did your best. You didn’t want that right now, you wanted him, “Baby…”

“Everything hurts,” 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 wouldn’t 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.

Matthew settled on breakfast, working away in his kitchen with the only thing he knew how to make. Tell her you made it, his mom’s words from just a few months prior in his head while he cooked. You padded out his bedroom, one of Matthew’s god awful beer shirts hanging from your frame while you wrapped your arms around his waist and pressed a kiss into his back, “It’s cold here.”

“You’ll get used to it,” 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, “What’s so funny?”

“You framed my jersey?” You ask, your eye catching a jersey that was way too familiar. It was hung up beside Matthew’s from his first all star game, both number nineteens staring back at you.

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re my favorite player,” Matthew hums, a blush covering his cheeks, “I’m so proud of you.”

“You keep saying that,” Matthew finally turns around, pressing a quick peck to your lips.

“I’ll keep saying it long after we both retire,” Matthew speaks, words clear and sure because he’s had plenty of time to practice this one, “I’ll say it when you win a World Cup gold, I’ll say it when we have kids, I’ll say when you play at the Olympics. I’m going to say it over and over again.”

“But…” You trail off, all of those same demons you’d been fighting when it came to your whatever this was with Matthew, “What I’m not around enough for you?”

Matthew knew what you were thinking about, he’d thought about it plenty too. There were countless sleepless nights where all he did was wonder if you’d find someone in Chicago who could support you better than he could. He’d 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 couldn’t be there and it killed him.

“You’re more than enough,” Matthew promises, his lips ghosting over yours, “I 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.”

You let out a laugh, Matthew’s smile wide enough to see his dimples you loved so much, “I think I want to stay a little while.”

“I think you should,” Matthew agrees, capturing your lips in his, “Besides I’m playing tonight and I think I need to show off now.”

“You’re a cocky asshole.”

“But now I’m your cocky asshole.”

***

One year Later

You had a good reason to be late.

You swore Matthew couldn’t possibly be mad at you for this one. You’d missed your flight to Calgary, a few days post a second loss in the semi finals that you’d been taking much better this time around. Mainly because Matthew wasn’t there, but his stupid smile and words of encouragement where there on facetime hours later. That wasn’t the reason you were late, the reason you were late was because you’d received the most insane news of your life and it was an important phone or that flight. You’d caught the next one, legs shaking not to just call him and share the news, but you needed to tell him in person.

You’d 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, “Matty-”

“Don’t call me that just because you know you’re late,” Matthew huffs, already ready for the pout that would have followed so he’d forget all about the fact that you promised you’d 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.

“They want me on the National Team,” 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.

“We’re celebrating after this, holy shit,” Matthew cheers, still stunned by your news, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, now go score a few goals so we have even more to celebrate,” You kiss him one more time, pushing him before the door before he was late.

��Anything I do seems unimportant now!” Matthew calls out, a light laugh to his voice as he watched you walk away to go sit in the stands.

And that’s how Matthew thought it should be.

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagine #my writing #nhl imagine #nhl imagines

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firelxdykatara · 4 years ago

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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 ‘you’d have to have been there’, 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 that’s like ‘if you ever want to know what true regret feels like, ask someone who once called tvd their favorite show’? 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 show’s cancellation, i think that’s 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 TVD’s 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 elena’s affections, but also because it kept up this insistence on the ‘good brother/bad brother’ 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 isn’t nearly as bad as he pretends to be)--and the question of which brother ‘deserved’ 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 i’ll get to that in a bit) was hotly contested.

i’m 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 didn’t 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 i’m not gonna pretend delena fans weren’t 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 twitter’s 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 ‘how dare you write the story in a way i dont like, you terrible fucking person’, and gods don’t 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 “i’m so OVER elena and her precious doppelganger vagina!”

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; you’ll see a lot of ‘elena was one of the worst things about the show’ 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- couldn’t 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 elena’s 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 elena’s loved ones and her own boyfriend’s mother but that’s beside the point) but like elena was called a slut and a bitch and a whore for ‘cheating’ on stefan (she hadn’t, and she had in fact broken up with him on screen the episode earlier) and ‘immediately’ 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 didn’t get any of this treatment when she started falling for tyler while dating matt! which isn’t to say i think she should have, just that i think it’s 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. it’s not a love triangle if both sides don’t 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 stefan’s dick anymore that it was clear they were really stefan stans and only wanted stelena to be endgame because they wanted stefan to ‘win’ at the end of the day, because ‘he’s the good brother’ so he deserved elena more.

it was all very gross and very misogynistic and very sex shaming (apparently delena was a ‘shallow’ and ‘superficial’ 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 it’s not like stelena didn’t have its fair share of making out and sex scenes, stefan was just too much of a coward to let elena top i’d apologize for that joke but i’m really not sorry because it’s true), and when i say it was egged on by the crew, that’s 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 one’s 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 hadn’t left the show, which....i mean frankly i wouldn’t 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 candice’s 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 ‘confirmation’ 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 couldn’t appreciate what a heroic and saintly figure dear stefan was and....oops, i’m 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 ‘affably evil’ 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 they’re hot and wanting them to kiss a main character bc they have insanely good chemistry (yes i ship klaroline, no i won’t apologize for it, they could have been Really Great), it’s 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 that’s another topic entirely), and then he deliberately inserted himself into her life because, in his words, ‘i have to know her’. 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 didn’t 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 didn’t want him anymore it was because she was a heinous bitch who didn’t deserve him.

uh.....i think i got off track there. and there’s 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. there’s a reason both the show and the fandom have such a lousy reputation lmfao.

#the vampire diaries #tvd #tvd fandom salt #anti stefan #anti stelena #salt for ts #asked #Anonymous

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agentrouka-blog · 4 years ago

Note

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 Jon’s 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.

Jon’s 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. He’s 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 Stannis’ siege. He “gave the girl away, he played his part”, he may have earned death as a reward now. But he is drawn to the godswood, where Bran’s 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 Mance’s assault. But unlike then, he is alone, his battle is as lonely as it is intense.

“Stand fast,” Jon Snow called. “Throw them back.” He stood atop the Wall, alone. “Flame,” he cried, “feed them flame,” 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. “Snow,” 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 she’d appeared.

This part of the dream mirrors Dany’s nightmare before her own fateful decision to “free” 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, Dany’s 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 Night’s 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.

“I am the Lord of Winterfell,” 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 …

Just like Jon couldn’t kill Ygritte in life and rejected Stannis’ offer, he is doing the opposite here, his darkest emotions bubbling up in a red wrath - but unlike Dany, it’s 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 Night’s 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. “Snow,” 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 Theon’s 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 Dany’s 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. “Madness.” 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 doesn’t 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.

“All is in readiness,” Bowen Marsh assured him. “If the wildlings uphold the terms of the bargain, all will go as you’ve commanded.”

And if not, it may turn to blood and carnage. “Remember,” Jon said, “Tormund’s 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.”

Jon’s 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. Jon’s transformation is still coming up. He will be a wolf for a while, but his path is not Dany’s 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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jeonsjiddies · 4 years ago

Text

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 @sweetnspicy93 for beta reading and helping me bounce ideas back and forth. Love you <3

Find Jimin’s 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, he’d 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 wasn’t in denial or anything, he was aware of how he felt and he could name it. It’s not like Namjoon didn’t know he was in love with you, he just couldn’t 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 he’d 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 can’t figure out how to turn his brain off, so he just sits. And stares.

You’d 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 couldn’t stop watching you.

Despite the heat in your cheeks and the way Namjoon couldn’t keep his eyes off you, you both quickly fell into a comfortable rhythm. You’d never felt so close with someone so fast in your life. Strangers one day, best friends the next. You felt like you’d known each other your entire lives within a matter of days. You’d 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 other’s company. Lately though, you’d noticed Namjoon was acting a little weird. Namjoon wasn’t 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. He’d pull you in for a cuddle then stiffen and shuffle away, avoiding your gaze. He’d 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 didn’t know what you were doing wrong. You were determined to revive your friendship to its’ former glory.

“Joonie!” 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.

“What are you doing?” 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.

“It’s a proposal for work on Thursday. We’re 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.” he explained.

“Why are you working at home?” you asked, your brow furrowing in worry.

“Because I need to have this done in two days.” he sighed.

“Oh Joon, please don’t overwork yourself. Look at the bags under your eyes! Aren’t you exhausted?” 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.

“I should get back to it…” he cleared his throat, avoiding your gaze.

“Joonie…” you sighed, wanting to reach out to him.

“Hm?” he asked, not looking up from his laptop where he typed away.

“Nothing. Good luck with your project.” 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.

“My head hurts.” he whined.

“You’ve been staring at that computer all day. Of course it does.” 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, Namjoon’s weight against you grew heavy and you knew he’d 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 didn’t really stand a chance and ended up falling asleep too, your hand on his cheek and your head lolled back against the couch.

You woke hours later in your own bed tucked into your duvet. 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 Namjoon’s 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 he’d 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 couldn’t 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. Joon’s 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 wouldn’t get caught peeping on your best friend, but couldn’t 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.

***

“You had a sex dream about Namjoon?” Jimin coughed, spitting out a little of the coffee he’d been drinking.

“Yes. Ugh. And… it’s not the first time.” you admitted, avoiding his gaze.

“Ooh, who would’ve thought you were such a dirty girl.” Jimin teased, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Ughhh. Jimin help me. The dreams didn’t used to be this vivid but when I saw him jerking off the other day-”

“YOU WHAT?” he choked.

“Oh yeah. Ummm… I kinda accidentally watched him masturbate?” you said it like a question.

“Accidentally?” Jimin raised an accusing brow.

“I was checking on him since he had a headache and… I saw him jerking it.” you hid your face in your hands.

“Oh my god.” Jimin laughed. “Wait how big is he?”

“Jimin!” You chastised, but grinned knowingly.

“I knew it. Damn. I feel insecure now. Joon really has it all.” He laughed.

“I’m sure you’re fine.” You giggled. “Now help me!”

“He doesn’t know that you saw, right?” Jimin confirmed.

“No!” 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.

“No. I could never look him in the eye again. I’d have to move.” You gushed anxiously.

“I bet he was jacking off to you.” Jimin smirked.

“Oh shut up Jimin. I’m the one with the crush not him.” You sighed.

“Y/N. You’re both clearly into each other and neither of you has enough balls to do anything about it.” Jimin tutted.

“There’s no way.” You shook your head in denial.

“Wanna bet on it?” He smirked. “$50 says he likes you too. He just needs… a push.”

“A push?” You asked.

“Let’s make him jealous.” Jimin grinned.

“How?” You asked, tilting your head to the side in confusion.

“Pretend you’re into me. We’ll flirt in front of him, cuddle a bit, see if he snaps.” Jimin’s eyes sparkled mischievously.

“That will never work because he doesn’t like me.” You argued.

“Well if you’re right you’ll be $50 richer. What do you have to lose?” He shrugged.

“Well… I guess you’re right.” You nodded. “Fine 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.”

“Phase.” he scoffed “Like you haven’t been dying to get that man inside you for years.”

Your face turned bright red and you flipped him off, but didn’t object with his words. You couldn’t. It’s not that you hadn’t 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, you’d 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 Jimin’s lap.

“Jimin this is stupid.” You whisper-hissed, trying your best not to make contact with his crotch despite your position.

“Trust me, if Joon walks in on this, he’ll lose his shit.” 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 weren’t 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 he’d been carrying had fallen from his now limp hands. Jimin’s lips stilled against your skin and you both looked towards Namjoon feigning shock.

You scrambled off of Jimin’s lap and stood up, smoothing your clothes. Jimin stayed on the couch, just observing.

“Joon! I didn’t think you’d be home so soon.” You squeaked.

“I-uh… yeah, I just… sorry.” 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.

“If you guys don’t want to be interrupted maybe you should do that in your room, and not the shared living area.” 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 he’d placed there, making sure Namjoon saw them. Namjoon stiffened.

“He’s right, let’s take this somewhere a little more… private. Poor Joonie shouldn’t have to witness the things I’m about to do to my dirty slut.” 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 wasn’t watching.

“Jimin, what the fu-” you began.

“Moan. Loud. Make it believable.” he whispered. “If he thinks I’m fucking your brains out in here he’s going to lose his shit.”

“Jimin why do you have a boner?” you hissed.

“Y/N.” he scoffed. “I am absolutely team Namjoon okay? But I am a man, and a beautiful woman was just grinding on my dick. Sue me.”

“I-”

“It doesn’t mean I’m into you or anything, but that was hot. I’m not going to try anything but I can’t stop my anatomy from functioning properly. You can’t tell me you’re not a little turned on.” he grumbled, removing his hands from your shoulders and stepping back so you could peel yourself off the door.

“Okay. You’re right. Now what?” you asked.

“Be a good girl and moan for me.” he winked, sitting on your bed and pulling out his phone.

“Fuck, Jimin!” you did your best impression of a moan despite how uncomfortable you felt, sitting beside him and holding a pillow in your lap.

Jimin’s eyebrows shot up.

“Damn. Okay.” he whispered, then got louder as he groaned. “Fuck baby right there. Mmm… your pretty little mouth feels so good wrapped around my cock.”

You stifled a giggle and shoved his arm and he shot you the cockiest grin you’d 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.

“Okay, show time baby.” 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.

“Fuck, YN. You’re so tight.” Jimin groaned, sending you a pointed look.

“Ugh! Right there!” you whined loudly.

“Who owns this pussy?” Jimin smirked, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

“Jimin!” you cried out, then tried not to laugh when Jimin dramatically fanned himself.

“Harder! Oh god don’t stop!” you called out, and Jimin gave you a thumbs up while he continued shoving your headboard against the wall.

“Are you going to cum on Daddy’s cock?” Jimin grinned.

“Fuck fuck fuck!” 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 he’d heard such intimate sounds out of you, even if they were fake. Your cheeks burned cherry red and you avoided Jimin’s gaze.

“Damn. That was hot.” he whisper-laughed, knocking his shoulder into yours as he sat beside you.

“Shut up.” you giggled. “Kinda was though.”

“If things don’t work out with Joonie, call me.” he wiggled his eyebrows.

“Please, you couldn’t handle all this.” you joked, gesturing to yourself.

“You’re right, you’re an emotional basket case and I am not as patient as Namjoon.” he laughed, flinching when you punched his arm.

“Asshole.” you giggled.

“Come here.” he suddenly said, reaching for your hair and messing it up.

“What the fuck!” you hissed.

“Do you want to look fucked or do you want to look like we faked it?” he narrowed his eyes.

“True.” you agreed, reaching over and doing the same to his soft tendrils.

“Ooh, scratch my neck. Wait no. Should I walk out there shirtless and have you scratch my back?” he smirked evilly.

“Take your shirt off.” you instructed.

“Damn round two already? You’re insatiable!” 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.

“I think you’re gonna have to get on top of me.” you concluded.

“I thought you’d never ask.” he smirked, exaggeratedly rolling his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Shut up, I just want it to look real.” you hissed, laying back while Jimin hovered over you.

“Suuure.” 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 Jimin’s throat.

“You’re enjoying this too much.” you accused.

“You’re probably right.” he laughed. “I’m going straight home to jack off after this.”

“You’re disgusting.” you laughed.

Jimin shrugged unapologetically. “You should probably do it a few more times to make it look like I fucked you real good.”

“You just like it.” you laughed.

“That too.” 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 weren’t so in love with Namjoon you’d probably jump Jimin’s 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.

“Looks good.” 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 Jimin’s shirt. He nodded in approval.

“Show time.” 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 didn’t say anything as you breezed past him, following Jimin into the kitchen to brew some tea.

“I need a snack to replenish my energy. You really wore me out, baby girl.” Jimin teased, pinching your behind and causing you to yelp.

“Do you want me to make something?” you asked.

“Mmm… cooking for me? Maybe we could use some leftover whipped cream for round two.” he suggested playfully.

“Stop.” you giggled, covering your face.

“I really should get going though, it’s getting late and I have to work tomorrow. I wish I could just stay here, in your bed. I don’t think we’d get any sleep though.” he chuckled.

“Let me change out of your shirt real quick.” you offered but he grabbed your wrist and pulled you against his body.

“Mmm… keep it. Looks better on you anyway. Plus, I wanna show off my battle scars.” 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.

“Check. Mate.” he grinned.

“He’s probably just annoyed because we’re being obnoxious.” you sighed.

“Trust me, Y/N. He’s jealous and filled with rage. If looks could kill, you’d be planning my funeral right now.” Jimin assured you.

“If you say so… do you really not want this back?” you asked.

“Nah. I got a spare in the car.” he smiled, “good luck, okay? Don’t chicken out if the opportunity presents itself. You like him. He likes you. You guys could be happy. Let yourself be happy, yeah?”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and let yourself be comforted by your friend’s 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.

“I mean it. Let yourself have this. Don’t be scared.” he coached gently.

“Thank you, Jiminie. I love you.” you smiled up at him.

“I love you too. Now go get your man.” 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 Namjoon’s room, slowing as you heard crashing from inside. You knocked lightly on the door.

“Joon? You okay? Did something break?” you questioned, hand on the knob.

The door flung open and you were greeted with Namjoon’s chest as he towered over you. The look he gave you made you feel even smaller though.

“I dropped something. Not like you can complain about my noise level, Y/N.” he huffed.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” you said quietly.

“I’m fine. I actually think it might be time for me to find somewhere else to live.” he stated.

You froze, panic filling your chest.

“What?! Why?” you squeaked, tears welling in your eyes despite your urge for them to stay away.

“If you’re going to be seeing Jimin, it’s clear that you guys need your own space. I don’t want to listen to you have sex with him all the time, and I’m sure you’d appreciate the privacy.” Namjoon sighed, avoiding your eyes.

“But I… we… it’s not-” you tried, but your mouth wasn’t cooperating with your racing mind.

“It’s fine. It’s about time you got a boyfriend. It’s probably weird that we’re both single and living together.” Joon shrugged.

“No it’s not!” you argued, a pout on your lips.

“Don’t you want to fuck your boyfriend in peace without having to worry about your roommate hearing?” Joon challenged.

“He’s not my boyfriend!” you blurted out.

“What?” Joon tilted his head in confusion.

“He’s not… he’s not my boyfriend. We didn’t have sex. We only pretended to. Jimin had me convinced that if I pretended to be dating him that you’d get jealous and that you’d make a move because I’m too scared to. I told him you didn’t like me and that it wasn’t going to work but he wouldn’t shut up about it, he kept saying-” you began but Namjoon cut you off.

“You made out with Jimin on our couch and pretended to have sex with him to try and make me jealous?” he clarified.

“I know it’s stupid I told him-” you rambled on, wringing your hands together anxiously.

“You didn’t fuck him.” Joon clarified one more time.

“No.” you confirmed.

“Oh thank god.” 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.

“That was extremely immature and childish.” he chided, “But it worked. I wanted to kill him.”

“Mmm…” you hummed happily.

“I couldn’t stand the thought of another man kissing you,” he sighed, letting his lips gently brush against your own. “Another man marking you,” he whispered, his kisses moving to your neck and sucking his own marks to claim you. “Another man touching you…” he trailed off, hand running down your side until his fingers brushed against your nipple, barely concealed by the thin fabric of Jimin’s shirt. Joon’s 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. “I don’t like you wearing another man’s clothes either.” 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 couldn’t believe how fake you’d 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 he’d 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 didn’t 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 you’d 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.

“Mmm… so wet. Is this because of me, baby?” he grinned.

You thought about teasing him and saying it was Jimin but you’d waited too long for this moment to fuck it up now.

“All for you, Joonie.” you whined, bucking your hips up to get some friction.

“Mmm.. that’s not my name baby doll.” he smirked.

“Fuck… daddy.” you whimpered.

“That’s right baby girl.” he praised, “You want daddy to make you feel good?”

“Please.” 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 wasn’t enough. You needed to be filled.

“Fuck me, daddy.” you whined.

“So needy.” 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 Namjoon’s 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.

“We can try all that later. I want to cum inside of you, and I won’t last if you wrap those pretty lips around me.” he sighed, “but let’s get you ready, hm?”

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 wasn’t 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.

“Are you ready for me, baby?” he asked.

“Yes. Yes.” 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 didn’t 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 didn’t 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.

“Joon, what-” you tried to ask, panting.

“Mmm… only good girls get to cum.” he hummed against your thigh. “Teasing daddy by grinding on your little friend… you weren’t being a very good girl, were you, baby doll?”

“But I…” you whined.

“I know why you did it.” he nodded in agreement, “and I agree. I needed a push. But I still didn’t like seeing your sweet little cunt grinding down on him. That pussy is mine.” he growled, possessiveness filling his eyes.

“Yes, I’m all yours daddy.” you sighed.

“That’s right.” 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.

“Mmm.. does my baby want to cum?” he cooed.

“Fuck. Yes. Please. Joon please please please.” you nearly cried.

“Hmmm.. do you think you’ve earned it? Has daddy punished you enough? You sure did like showing off and making me angry.”

“Please, I’m sorry. I’m yours, only yours. PLEASE.” 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 he’d never stopped. It didn’t take you long to reach your end after that, so riled up and sensitive from the edging. You were so close, so close again.

“Cum for daddy.” 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.

“You did so well for me baby.” 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 you’d 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 its’ normal rhythm, you looked up into his eyes.

“You know, I’m kind of thankful for Jimin.” Joon spoke.

“Hmm?” you questioned.

“I think if it weren’t for you assholes trying to make me jealous, I would’ve never pulled my head out of my ass.” he sighed. “I was just so scared that you wouldn’t feel the same way and I didn’t want to ruin everything we had, you know? You’re so important to me, Y/N. I don’t ever want to lose you.”

“You won’t ever lose me.” you confirmed, fire in your eyes and passion in your voice. “But I get it. I was scared too.”

“Every time I see you, I get these words stuck in my head. All it is is 8 letters and I’ve wanted to tell you for so long, Y/N, but I was terrified of being rejected.” he admitted, eyes downcast.

“Joonie?” you whispered warily, moving your head back so you could look into his eyes.

“Yeah, baby?”

“I love you.”

“I love you.” 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 Namjoon’s eyes.

“But if Jimin ever puts his hands on you again I will kill him.” Namjoon grumbled.

You giggled and hid your face in his chest.

“I love you.” 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.

Joon’s 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.

“I love you too.” he sighed happily. . “So very much.”

#kim namjoon #namjoon #bts #smut #namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #rm #rm x reader #rm smut #bts smut

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queen-of-my-goofball-army · 3 years ago

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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.

#mary poppins #mary poppins bert #favorite characters #comfort characters #favorite disney characters

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batarella · 4 years ago

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I Don’t 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 DON’T HATE YOU - MASTERLIST

-----

“Just coffee. For two.”

The waitress nodded. “Anything else?”

“No.”

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 didn’t need to explain where he got it from. You knew who he was, as well as Bruce. But then he told you that it wasn’t 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 Jason’s 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 wasn’t from grave diggers. No. It was from someone climbing out from 6 feet under the soil.

Then, he showed you DNA test results.

Jason’s DNA, taken from when he was still alive, and a DNA sample from the Red Hood’s 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 didn’t know the full story.

You couldn’t 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 he’d 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 didn’t 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, he’s 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. He’s 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 didn’t talk to anyone. You stared at the rooftops. You looked at Jason’s old photos, compared them with the Red Hood’s 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 wasn’t 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 didn’t want to be involved, and you told him that. You weren’t 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 weren’t 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 wouldn’t 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 wasn’t just you.

As if the three years of grief weren’t 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.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” You stood up to give him a little hug. His hand patting your back, he sat across from you.

“For you.”

“Thank you.” He took the coffee mug. “You’re looking a lot better.”

You held your drink with both hands. “Thanks.”

“If you’re not comfortable in any way, I completely understand.”

You tried to hold back your shaking arms. You didn’t want him to see just how much this all scared you.

“What brought him back?”

“Ra’s al Ghul. The Lazarus pit. At least, that was after he was already resurrected. The pit just fixed his body and made him stronger.”

“Lazarus pit?”

“It’s uh,” he stuttered. “Ra’s has this League of Assassins with his daughter, Talia. And they own all these Lazarus Pits. It’s 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.

“They 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.”

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… You’ll do anything.

“You think he’s heartless enough to try to kill me?” you asked.

Dick drank from his coffee mug, set it down, then swallowed.

“I never got to tell you, didn’t I?”

“What?”

Dick bit his lips. “Jason’s not gonna hurt you. I’m sure of it. I wouldn’t have called if it had put you in any kind of danger at all.”

“How are you so sure?”

He looked out the window, at a rooftop from an apartment building nearby. You breathed into your mug.

“About 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 to…”

He held his cup.

“He was waiting for you outside your university. And when you got out, he followed you all the way to your house. He’s been at it almost every single day.”

You caught your breath in your throat and watched Dick with your lips starting to shake.

“And it isn’t just that. He does everything to make sure you don’t get hurt. When you go out at night, he’s 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.”

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.

“How long has he been at this?”

“I’m guessing since he first came to Gotham. A month ago.”

The coffee suddenly didn’t taste so calming anymore. “God… I… This is still so much to process…”

“I know.”

“He isn’t going to show himself to me willingly, is he?”

“I don’t think he will. He makes sure you never see him.”

You closed your eyes.

“That’s why I called you. If you got to talk to him, maybe you can get him to listen.”

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.

“I want to do it.”

Dick held your wrist and squeezed it tightly. “Don’t worry. If anything goes wrong, Bruce, Tim, and I will be there.”

“It’s not that I’m afraid of,” you said. “I don’t know what’s going to happen after this.”

Not a clue. Not a single premonition.

“Honestly, me neither.” He finished his coffee. “But it’s worth a try.”

-----

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 truck’s container, then pushed his revolver right under his chin.

“When’s Black Mask’s next shipment?!”

“I don’t fucking know!”

He clicked his gun. “I think you do.”

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.

“Tomorrow! At the docks!”

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. He’ll have to get out of there.

“Hey there, bud.”

��Fucking shit-“

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.

“Get out of here.”

“I just want to talk, Jay.”

He wanted to shoot Nightwing’s smug little smirk right off his face. “I mean it.”

“I won't-“

Red Hood fired at the truck’s metal just an inch away from Nightwing’s leg.

“I won't miss next time.”

“Just listen to me-“

“Fine. You wanna play that game, Grayson?”

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 Nightwing’s 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 wasn’t here to beat him down. But obviously, Red Hood wasn’t here to talk, either.

He ducked and blocked Red Hood’s succeeding hits, almost rolling around the empty road. He kicked him in the stomach, then Red Hood headbutted him with his much stronger helmet.

“Jason!” Nightwing blocked him with his arm. “This is about Y/N!”

He stopped.

Then his helmet was about to melt at the immense heat his head was boiling to. “WHAT DID YOU SAY!?”

Nightwing leapt up to a pole. Red Hood grabbed his guns, reloaded them, then started firing.

“Stop it!”

“Fuck you!”

He kept firing at Nightwing’s body, backing off when he got too close. He was going to kill him. He wasn’t getting out of this alive. Not tonight. Mentioning your name like that, it’s going to cost him his life.

“She knows! About you!”

“You fucking ASSHOLE.”

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.

“HOW THE FUCK DID SHE KNOW?”

“I told her!”

“oh, you’re dead, Grayson.”

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 didn’t 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.

“She wants to talk to you!”

“NOT A FUCKING CHANCE.”

“Don’t you think she deserves to know what happened-“

“LEAVE HER OUT OF THIS, DICK.”

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. “Jay-“

“I’m going to kill you. Right now. You think I’ll hesitate?”

“Do you really want to break her heart again, asshole?”

“You fucking-“ 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.

“You of all people can't lecture me on breaking hearts, you jackass.”

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 Nightwing’s head.

They paused, stared each other down with their weapons in hand a yard’s distance away.

“Just… talk to her.”

“I can't believe you pulled her into this-“

“This isn’t about our little game. This is about you, Jay. And you need our help-“

He laughed. “Since when did I ask for your fucking help?”

“Since you killed almost a hundred people in Gotham in the last month-“

“Those aren’t just people, you idiot. They’re Joker’s men. Penguin’s. Two Face’s. They all deserve to die.”

Nightwing tightened his grip on his sticks. “Then just talk to her. She deserves that. You of all people should know just how hurt she is.”

He clicked his gun. “Mention her again, and I’ll blow your brains out.”

“She’s waiting for you at the plaza. Behind the cathedral. It’ll just be you and her. Just let her talk to you-“

Just one pull of a trigger. And this son of a bitch dies for ever even speaking to you. He’ll fucking keep his word.

“You think I don’t know this is a trap? What, you, Bruce, and that fucking replacement will be waiting to ambush me in the dark?”

“Not this time. You have to believe me.”

He scoffed. “What are you trying to do? Change all this?”

“Trust me, I get it. You have no intention in mending anything with Bruce. But if you don’t show up, it’ll devastate her.”

“She’ll be fine. Trust me. She dealt with worse.”

“And you really want to subject her into that again?”

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 what’s actually right. They look down on what he does, and yet, he’s done more to control Gotham’s 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 doesn’t show up, it’ll 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. It’ll tear your heart into shreds, more than it already was, but if he was alive, and he still wanted nothing to do with you…

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 it’ll 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. You’ll have him back. As crazy as it still is, you’ll actually have him back.

But that was the most wishful thinking you could do. It’ll almost never end that way.

But, no matter the outcome, if he changes or not, you’ll finally come to the end of you dreaming about the past. You’ll 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 you’ll 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, you’ll 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 wasn’t over. You knew he wasn’t 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.

You’re 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.

“Jason?”

You walked to the other side of the cathedral’s backside. But there wasn’t so much as a squirrel around you.

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 didn’t. 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 couldn’t 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 couldn’t even move. An inch away from your body, the Red Hood growled.

“Stay… Away…”

You swallowed.

“Jason?”

“Don’t… Don’t even try.”

“You're…” you breathed out, your chest heaving. “You’re really alive…”

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.

“How much do you know?”

You were stuttering. Your shaking mouth forced you to. You’ve never been so scared in your life. “A lot…”

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.

“Whatever it is you're trying to do, stop it. It’s not going to work.”

“I just want to talk-“

“About what? What are you possibly hoping for?”

“Why didn’t you come to me?” you whispered. “Why didn’t you see me first? You have no idea-“

“You think you want to see this?”

He pointed at his chest. “This isn’t what you think it is. I’m not who you fucking think I am.”

Of course he isn’t. You didn’t expect him to.

“You have no idea how much I wanted this…”

“This isn’t what you want. Trust me. Far from it.”

Eyes stuck to his helmet, where his own eyes were supposed to be, you didn’t know what you wanted to say.

“I want to talk to you. I know about what you do… and I still do-“

“Forget about all this okay? As far as you know, I’m still dead.”

This time, as scared as you were, you wanted to punch him.

“Do- do you have any idea how much you hurt me?”

He didn’t answer.

“You fucking don’t.”

“I wouldn’t talk that way to someone with three guns on him.”

“Go ahead. Shoot me. Kill me. If you insist that’s what you are.”

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.

“What do you expect out of this?”

“I just want to talk…”

“About what?”

His filtered voice. There was barely anything of the Jason you knew. You couldn’t see his face. His whole body grew more than four sizes larger. You couldn’t hear his voice. It was so hard trying to be gentle to someone who just looked terrifying to look at.

“Stay away from me.”

“No,” you said. “Take that mask off and look at me.”

“Listen,” he walked towards you and pushed you against the wall. “I don’t know what you want. You want us to talk? And what do you want out of that? Something more?” he scoffed.

Your mouth turned dry. You wanted to kick him in the groin until he’ll barely be able to walk.

“You left me,” you whispered. “When you said you never would.”

“We broke up-“

“You. Left me.” you hissed. “You have no idea…”

He stopped, looking to the side at the wall behind you.

“You should’ve moved on-“

“Fuck you.”

Tears. Angry tears. They wanted to seep out. He stepped back. “If you know what’s good for you, forget about all this-“

“I can't believe this is how you are after you fucking died and left me to grieve you for three years-“

“Deal with it. I’m not who you fucking think I am.”

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.

“I just want to talk… Please…”

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 couldn’t see him anymore.

You cried too much for him. Far too much.

So you didn’t this time. You let yourself slowly realize this was how things ended.

Your phone rang.

“Y/N?”

You breathed. “He won't talk to me…”

“It’s alright. We did what we could. I can come up there and-”

“Can I be alone? Please? I’m going home.”

“Of course. I’m really sorry…”

You hang up.

----

It felt like it was about to rain, even when there wasn’t 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 wasn’t 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 didn’t give off that soothing rush that calmed down all your nerves when he’d 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 wasn’t coming back.

You hoped far too much of what was impossible to ask for. Because whatever that was, the Red Hood… You didn’t know what you were even expecting. That wasn’t your boyfriend. He couldn’t 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 wasn’t and push everything to the side just to spend every minute he had with you. The one so obsessed with you that he couldn’t possibly ask you to stay away, or ever make you feel like he didn’t want to see you at all. You didn’t 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 he’d run to you, and you’d crash into an embrace for hours and hours until he’ll 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, didn’t he? He protected you.

How could he… after all you went through just to hold on to him… this is how he treats you…

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 wasn’t 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 didn’t 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 couldn’t 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 didn’t 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 didn’t 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.

He’s here.

You clutched to his neck, both your arms pulling him so tightly to you that you swore you’ll 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 you’ll kill him if he even tried to move away.

Jason.

“Oh god…” you cried. “It’s you…”

And you could feel just how much he wanted to pull away. He was meaning to. But fuck him. You weren’t 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.

“Jay…”

He tightened his hold on you.

“Y/N…”

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. He’s here. He’s 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 badly…

He closed his eyes, but you didn’t. You kept looking at him, watching how his face moved.

Jason took your hands, gripped them tightly by the wrist,

Then pulled you away.

“Uhm,” he cleared his throat, taking his hands off from you and stuffing them back to his pockets. “I came to talk. Like you wanted…”

He looked to the ground. And reluctantly, you backed away.

You leaned against the railing beside him and crossed your arms.

“I don’t know where to start…”

Jason turned to you. “How are you?”

You had so many things to say. You could blurt out all your thoughts and you wouldn’t be able to stop. But you settled yourself, calmed your mind.

“I’m not so sure myself.”

“School?”

“Ending my third year. I went to arts college…”

“Yeah… I know. You like it?”

You nodded. “I do…”

You desperately wanted to hold him again, but you just kept to your shoulders lightly brushing.

“How ‘bout you?”

“Horrible. Thanks for asking.”

You shook your head. You wanted to chuckle, but you weren’t sure that’d be the best thing to do.

“Jay, what happened-“

“You really don’t want to know…”

“I deserve to know, don’t you think?”

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.

“Something happened. Some reality altering shindig in the cosmos. Ripples, as you might say. I’m 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.”

You swallowed.

“Somehow, the al Ghul’s found me and nursed me back to health. They put me in the Lazarus pit-you know what that is, don’t you?”

“I have an idea.”

“Anyway,” he continued. “They 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.”

You looked down at the empty alleyway with him. And you didn’t have much to say. You could tell he didn’t want to be consoled.

“Well, you certainly changed.”

He looked out into the rooftops. There wasn’t 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.

“Aren’t you gonna ask what happened to me?”

His lips went through his teeth, gritting as his muscles tensed.

“I listen to your message. All the time.”

You didn’t think he’d be so shocked, but he was.

“It sent?”

“What do you think?”

Jason pursed his lips, shutting his eyes so he couldn’t look at you.

“I kept your promises…”

You held your hands together, and you stared at them. “I went to college for you. I changed. A lot. I’ve been singing for events around the city a lot.”

He nodded. “Yeah. I watched you a few times.”

You breathed out. Slowly.

“Not all of them, though.”

Jason looked at you, and you looked back at him.

“I couldn’t move on…”

“Fuck…” he cursed. “Y/N-“

“I can't.”

“It’s been three fucking years…”

Your heart just shattered at the way he as looking at you now.

“I haven’t even talked to another guy. Not one date. I wouldn’t let them. I told them…” You shouldn’t tell him, but you really wanted to. “I told them I was still with you-“

“Fucking hell.” He stuffed his face into his hands. “I can't believe you…”

You choked. “I lost you!”

“You should have let me go…”

“I can't!”

You held his shoulder, but he flinched away.

“Why…” you cried. “Why this? I’ve done nothing but mourn for you-“

“I wanted you to live your fucking life!”

You turned away, and Jason looked at the streets by the building, at the empty cars and leaves stuck on the road.

“I wanted you to move on…”

You never once thought you’d have this conversation. Not in your life. “I couldn’t think of it.��

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.

“You know what I didn’t tell you in that message?”

“No…”

He leaned over the railings, elbows on the metal. He closed his eyes.

“I wanted to tell you that if I ever got out of that place alive, I’ll do everything-everything-I possibly could to get you back…”

You looked up at the sky. Something stung in your heart.

“But I didn’t. I didn’t want to put you in a terrible place. Whether I got out of it or I didn’t, I just wanted you to find what you were really looking for…”

“I want you...“

“Y/N…”

“I still do…”

“You don’t,” he choked. “We were kids-“

“Fuck you, is that what you really think?”

He breathed through his mouth, looking at almost everything around but you.

“This was a bad idea…”

He started for the stairs. And you watched him, feeling him tear your heart out all over again. Just like the first time.

“Jay… Please…”

Just as he took the first step, he stopped when you held his face.

He didn’t pull away. In fact, he leaned into them.

“Don’t leave me again…”

“Y/N,” he bit his lip, leaning closer to you but not close enough to kiss you. “You don’t want this…”

“I do…”

“No-“

“Why not?”

“I’m not bringing you into this. You don’t know who I am anymore.”

“You're worth it…”

“Y/N…”

You brushed his cheek with your thumb. He was about to cry, and you, with your tears already falling, you whispered.

“You are the love of my life…”

He closed his eyes, let you hold his face a bit tighter.

“Do you really want me to forget about you?”

Your breath shaking, it hurt like the world stepped on you when he slowly nodded. “I can't let you hold on to me any longer…”

Everything. It hurt ten times more than you ever thought it could. You never could have thought this would happen.

“Just give me a few days with you… Please…”

“Y/N, no-“

“Please,” you gulped. “I’ve been wanting To just...hold you... for so long. I never thought I’d 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 that…”

Jason finally looked up at your eyes, shaking. His eyebrows were up to his forehead, and he looked so terribly beautiful.

“Please… and I swear, I’ll forget about us. I’ll finally move on. You never have to see me again…”

Jason… Your beautiful, perfect Jason…

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 Jason’s voice, light and subtle.

“Three days…”

You turned around.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He almost jumped down the fire exit, disappearing before he could possibly change his mind.

-----

I DON’T HATE YOU - MASTERLIST

-----

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#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

141 notes · View notes

maxwell-grant · 4 years ago

Note

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 “killed off” in 1893, Sexton Blake debuts the very same year, and Holmes only comes back in publication in 1901.

Thing is though, while today he looks basically indistinguishable from Holmes, Blake was both Holmes’s successor as well as Holmes’s competition, the more popular counterpart in his time who didn’t 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.

During this time period, Nick Carter and Sherlock Holmes were the most imitated detectives worldwide. I’ve read conflicting reports on which exactly was “The” most imitated, so I can’t state for certain, but I’d guess Nick Carter, because after Street & Smith canned Nick Carter Weekly, and WW1 put a stop to everyone’s 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, it’s 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 Holmes’s 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.

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.

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 didn’t 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 doesn’t 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 one’s breath away—his 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.

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 he’s gonna hang King Kong’s 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 doesn’t give a shit about because he’s Professor Challenger and he’s too big and stupid and smart and bold to let anything get in the way of adventure.

He’s a perfect character and a perfect example of what makes pulp heroes stand out, as as much as I like Bob Hoskins, it’s 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).

#replies tag #pulp heroes #sexton blake #arthur conan doyle #pulp fiction #professor challenger #the lost world

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bitterfucked · 3 years ago

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finally beat all the ds3 bosses solo the other day so here’s 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.

here’s 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 aren’t familiar with previous games’ lore this is kind of an “okay i guess there had to be a final boss” 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 you’re encouraged to bring lightning for the drake’s weakness and then punished for it phase 2, and i hate his janky stab-grab hitbox.

“he’s got a super varied moveset” okay but he doesn’t if you do the typical “suck dick and smack booty” ds3 boss strategy; the fight is just swing swing punish for 2 minutes straight. don’t get me wrong i love ds3 gameplay and i’m 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 “big dude with sword” fights.

i won’t be fighting NK on any NG+s i think. phase 1 is that unfun, so it’s 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 isn’t 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 midir’s moveset and he’s the dragon fight of my dreams. you know how a lot of video games do dragon fights but they don’t do a good job of actually showcasing what it’s 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, he’s a health sponge. this’d be my favourite fight in the game if he had about 2000 less HP but as is, he’s 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 “take him down fast or die”. endurance fight removes that tension and makes it more of a “somersaulting arsehole teases animal for ten minutes before delivering a brutal headshot” kind of tone. midir also gives a surprising amount of space for you to heal for a battle that’s considered the hardest in the game, which removes the tension of an endurance fight - you’re not outlasting a series of deadly combos, you’re using your own massive HP pool to marathon 200 hits into midir’s noggin

5. Gael: 6/10

i’m 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 “oh shit oh fuck” moment than the last

b) making me nearly piss myself when i passed through the fog gate for the first time and was like “huh this a weird spot for the gate” and then see him just fucking sprinting at me

c) literally saying “it’s always darkest before the soul!” like what a fucking funny line for the final boss of the series

anyways he’s got the same issue as midir where it’s 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 don’t have this complaint for Friede who has a similar size HP pool but she’s not an endurance slog - she can get combo’d down fast phase 1, and phase 2 is so full of free hits that she’s effectively 5000 HP less than her written total. you don’t spend the entire fight dodging around being like “okay… where’s my one hit opening…” 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

#dark souls #ds3

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sid471 · 4 years ago

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Cinder vs Adam

Fair warning: This isn’t 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? They’re 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 they’re 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 ain’t gonna end well, you may say that just makes her delusional. I disagree. I think she’s earned her confidence. She devised the plan defeat Amber by herself, without Salem’s 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 Ruby’s Silver Eyes. And THEN she started to lose herself.

Adam on the other hand has always been a fuckin... mess. We’ve 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 “Aww poor Adam...” Or was it “Oh he’s just showing it to make Blake feel bad .-. What a dick >_>”. The only time we see him as “Good” is the Black Trailer. And I mean even then..... he’s actively stealing cargo off a train and is fully prepared to kill the crew members, who did literally nothing 😶. 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 didn’t. 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, didn’t 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 didn’t write that with the intention of finding another Cinzula parallel ._. Awesome stuff :3

ANYWAY Adam is emotional as FUUUUCK, and he always has been. Adam’s emotions don’t let him think clearly. Because like I said in my 2nd hot take post, if Adam WASN’T 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 I’ll 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 “Haha you deserve it bitch >_>” Or “Poor thing...”

Take her ENTIRE backstory. Like with Adam, that’s the only time we’ve seen Cinder as sympathetic. Intentionally anyway lol. And with Cinder’s 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 wasn’t much of a discussion topic besides “Oh. Cinder relies on her maiden powers too much. She should stop relying on them as much as she does >_>” or “Cinder mistreats her allies. She should stop <_<” Which, both are true lol. But like... I dunno now with her back story revealed, there’s more INTERESTING discussion around her with like what could have been if Rhodes was around more or if he didn’t try and turn her in, people noticing how her sword in volume 5 was identical to Rhodes’ 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.

Adam’s character short...... didn’t do any of that .-. if anything it showed us MORE reasons to hate him. Hell, I’d watch that trailer more for Sienna Khan. If it were a Sienna trailer? Iconic. Okay, fine, I’ll be a little bit more fair. We DID see the start of the Grimm masks... But that doesn’t 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, Cinder’s 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 Cinder’s 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 she’s 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... I’m just gonna say it, is a brat >_> He’s used to getting what he wants, from Sienna and the other faunus in the white fang, from Blake, he’s USED to getting praise for the horrible things he does and when he DOES get called out, he’s used to being able to talk himself out of those situations or BEING talked out of those situations. When he DOESN’T get what he wants, he basically just throws a massive temper tantrum. I’m not saying Cinder doesn’t 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 she’s 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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greaterlandscapes · 3 years ago

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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 — 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 — 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.

(Excerpt from the Babyfather album review in TinyMixtapes)

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.

#dean blunt #high fidelity #music #film #music review #2021 #hype williams #Youtube

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jalapeno-princess · 4 years ago

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Love story

Mark Tuan x Reader

Word count: 7.1k

Genre: Fluff, forbidden love, descriptions of sex

Summary: You’re in a relationship with the son of your father’s 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 aren’t shocked to hear that he would do the same. Unfortunately, Mark’s dad tries to set him up with the daughter of one of his company partners and that’s 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!

“And where do you think you’re going? Don’t think I don’t know about you and that Tuan fellow y/n. You can lie to your parents, but you can’t lie to me. So what, are you off to your dick appointment?”

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 it’s obviously not his.

“Oh God, please don’t say fellow, it makes you sound like an old man.” 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.

“You didn’t answer my question y/n.”

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. Jackson’s 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.

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 didn’t stop them from continuing their life long dream.

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.

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 wasn’t 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.

Against your fathers wishes, you went straight in to nursing school right after graduating high school and it was the best decision you’ve made. Not only did you get to help thousands of people so far, witnessed many miracles and got to travel all around the world, it’s also where you met the man in question. Mark Tuan.

“What is there to say if you already know the answer? Yes, I’m going to meet Mark. My personal life is nobody’s business but my own. How did you even find out about us?”

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.

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. Mark’s dad owned another technology company that was just as successful as your father’s. Many years ago, your father, Jackson’s father and Mark’s father Raymond were really good friends.

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 family’s business began to grow, Mark’s father got extremely jealous and did whatever he could to sabotage your father’s company.

When rumors went around about how Jackson’s 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 Tuan’s company, earning Raymond the top spot of most successful CEO in the state.

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 public’s attention. With the release of the new smartphone that came with wireless earphones, your family’s company was now at the top of the chain. However, you knew it wouldn’t last for long. When one company released an item, the other company would come back with something better just a few weeks later.

“You’re 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 wasn’t 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. Don’t think I didn’t notice how excited you got after you hung up with who I’m assuming was Mark. My assumptions were proven true when I saw the two of you at the coffee shop the other day. Y/n—“

You frowned before worriedly biting your lip. As much as you loved Jackson and trusted him more than anyone else in your family, you couldn’t stop him from saying anything to your parents about your love interest.

“I know what you’re going to say Jack and I don’t want to hear it. It’s bad enough that I’m dating the son of our father’s so called enemy, I don’t need to be reminded of it. Please, promise me you won’t say anything.”

Jackson brought his fingers up to the bridge of his nose and lightly pinched it out of frustration. “You’re dating him? Shit. I thought you were only fucking around with him. But he’s your boyfriend? Y/n, you know I’m only acting like this because I care about you and I support your decisions no matter what, but you’re 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 don’t care how good the dick is y/n, there are many more men out there whose fathers don’t 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? I’ve seen the guy and I’m not going to lie, he’s pretty good looking and I’m sure he’s said some things to sweet talk his way in to your heart. However, I can’t help but think that he has some tricks up his sleeve and I—“

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 he’s never had but always wanted. With that being said, he got up from his seat and pulled you in to his arms.

“Please don’t say things like that about him. He’s nothing like his father. He isn’t 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. I’d do anything for him, be anyone he wants me to be. I’d 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.”

You released an exhausted breath before continuing. “I’m happiest when I’m with him. I feel the safest in his arms and when I’m 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 don’t see Mark as the son of my father’s 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 don’t care if I end up losing everyone around me, he’s 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 don’t want to.”

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.

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.

“I—I don’t know what to say. You know I love you, and that I’d do anything for you. Which is why I’m 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 Juliet’s and I’m the handsome cousin that has to be stuck between a rock and a hard place choosing what’s wrong over what’s right. Although, as cheesy as it sounds, love is never wrong y/n. If you know, deep down in your heart that you’re in love with him and that he feels the same way about you, there’s 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. Don’t ever forget that. You’re never going to lose me, I’ve been here for you from day one and I’m always going to be here. Now go, Romeo is waiting.”

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. “Wait, you’re not wearing that are you?”

As you took a look at what you were wearing, you furrowed your brows. You didn’t see anything wrong with your sweats, camisole and one of Mark’s flannels. Since you were planning on staying the night, you wanted to be comfortable. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

Jackson looked at you in shock, as if he couldn’t believe the fact that you thought your outfit was okay to meet your boyfriend with. Weren’t girls the one who were obsessed with looking good for their man? Not that you didn’t look nice, you were extremely beautiful; especially without make up. But some beat up sweats and an oversized flannel did not exactly scream “sex appeal” not that your plans with Mark were Jackson’s business.

“You’re lucky you’re really pretty. I’m sure your fashion sense isn’t what got the guy to fall in love with you. Go change in to something cuter, something that screams “I’m giving my life up for you, you better dick me down like you mean it—ow! I’m only trying to help—when did you become this abusive? Hurry up and leave, I’m getting bruises.”

As much as you wanted to ignore him, you took Jackson’s 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.

Once you grabbed your bags and said your goodbyes to Jackson, you headed over to Mark’s 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.

When the two of you first met almost a year ago in the emergency wing of the hospital you worked at, you didn’t 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 weren’t 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 didn’t stop him from stealing glances of you every chance he got.

As you explained to him what he had to do in order for him to get rid of the stone, it’s as if everything you told him went through one ear and out the other. He couldn’t stop staring at your pretty, pink lips or your cute little button nose. He also thought you had some of the prettiest eyes he’s ever seen and even if he hasn’t known you for all too long, he found himself falling for your kind, patient and generous personality.

Over the course of Mark’s 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 didn’t 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 you’d 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.

You’ve 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 didn’t feel like you were working whenever you had to tend to him.

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 didn’t think anything of it until your eyes landed on the tall figure standing at the reception desk.

“Y/n, sorry to bother you, but this young man was looking for you. You weren’t busy were you?”

You shook your head as a smile quickly rose on your face as you motioned for Mark to follow you. “Hey! I’m glad to see you no longer in pain and moving around freely. You look nice! Not that you didn’t 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.”

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. “I’d 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 I’d be lying if I said I only came here to thank you. I couldn’t 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 you’d like to—maybe we could—I could take you out—we could go—hmph. Sorry, I’m really bad at stuff like this and it’s probably because I find myself getting nervous around you. I’m pretty sure you were aware of it when you’d 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?”

You were sure your cheeks were probably red as a tomato, but you didn’t 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 couldn’t seem to get off of your face. With the confidence you didn’t think you were capable of, you found yourself reaching up to playfully pinch his cheek before leaving a kiss there.

“I’d love to go on a date with you Mark.” 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.

“Sounds great. Is Saturday okay?” You nodded in agreement. “What time are you finished tonight? I can take you home if you’d like?”

You gave him a soft smile before shaking your head. “I don’t finish for another three hours and I wouldn’t want you to have to wait for me. It’s okay, I actually drove here so I’m all good. But thank you for the offer. Trying to win brownie points huh? You’re cute. I should start heading back to work. Thank you for the gifts. I’ll see you Saturday night.”

When you finally pulled up to Mark’s 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 weren’t 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.

You missed him and as often as he tried to call you, it wasn’t the same as physically being with him. He opened the door just a few seconds after you knocked and you didn’t give him any time to prepare before jumping on him.

“Hey baby. How’s my favorite girl been? Mmmm, I’ve missed you too my love.”

You began leaving sloppy kisses all around his face as he began to carry you over to his room. “Oooh, were going straight to the bedroom huh? Kinky.” He rolled his eyes before playfully slapping your ass.

“It’s been a week since I’ve 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 you’re ready.”

Mark wasn’t lying when he told you he planned on rearranging your guts and blowing your back out. You didn’t 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.

Although only a week had gone by since you’ve 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 didn’t think you’d 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.

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.

“I’ve 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 health—in more ways than one. You look exhausted baby—well, I mean other than the fact that I practically fucked you in to oblivion just a few minutes ago. But I mean from work. There’s wrinkles and dark circles on your pretty little face. I told you to take care of yourself since I wasn’t able to. Have you been getting enough rest and eating your meals on time?”

You giggled softly in to his neck before hesitantly shaking your head in disagreement. “I’ve been so busy these days. That’s kind of the reason why I haven’t been able to come over on the days that you weren’t scheduled to stay at the firehouse. A lot of the nurses have been calling in sick lately so we’re low on staff and I’ve practically been working back to back shifts. It doesn’t matter though. I’m home now. I’m happy. I’m happiest when I’m in your arms.”

When you didn’t 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.

“I love you so much y/n. You don’t understand. God, I’m so fucking in love with you baby.” You grinned widely at him before stealing a chaste kiss from the corner of his mouth.

“I love you too Mark. Why don’t you update me on everything that I’ve missed so far?” He began to tell you about the countless fires he had to tend to and you couldn’t help but laugh when he told you about how he had to rescue a cat from a tree. Unfortunately, Jackson’s words came back to haunt you and you found yourself releasing a frustrated groan.

“Hey baby, everything okay?” You turned to face him and cupped his cheek with your hand.

“How about we get out of here and I’ll explain everything?” 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.

“You 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?” 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.

“What’s on your mind my love?” You sat up just a little bit so you could see him as you gave him the news.

“My cousin Jackson—he um—he found out about us.” Mark’s brows furrowed worriedly and he was about to speak up but you continued. “He won’t say anything to my father. Our secrets safe with him. I know it is. I trust Jackson with my life.”

He began running his hands along your hips as a way to encourage you to continue. Mark’s 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.

“Then what’s the matter baby?”

You shrugged. “He brought up a good point. If my father or even your father were to find out about us, then they’ll probably force us to break up. Or worse, they’ll try to set us up with other people. So I told him, I’m willing to cut ties with my entire family if it meant spending the rest of my life with you. I don’t need anybody but you Mark Tuan. You are all the family I could ever want and need. Sure, we’ve only been together for over a year now, but it has been the best year of my life and I know you’re the one I want to spend the rest of my life with. I don’t know how you feel and I understand if you don’t feel the same, but I just had to say it.”

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 that’s 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. “You’re all I could ever want and need too baby. You’re my person y/n. My best friend, my soulmate. Time doesn’t determine how strong the love is between two people. Hell, I fell in love with you the day I laid eyes on you. I’m a grown ass man, I’m not going to allow my parents to tell me how to live my life. There’s no point of living life if you’re not in it. I didn’t realize how shitty my life was before until you entered it and made it amazing. You’ve brought so much love and happiness in to this pathetic heart of mine and I don’t know what I would do without you. If loving you and being with you is wrong, then fuck, I love being wrong. I don’t want to be right. You’re 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 two—but you’re all I want for the rest of my life too y/n. When I don’t get to see you, I feel so empty. You take a piece of me with you every time you leave. I’ve 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 that’s ever happened to me y/n. I love you with every fiber of my being. I didn’t even know it was possible to love someone that much—come here my cry baby.”

You didn’t even notice you were crying but you couldn’t 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.

“Mark.” He looked up at you and hummed in curiosity. “Are you tired?” He gave you a knowing smirk before running his hands along your thighs.

“Never too tired to make love to my princess. Round eight here we come.”

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 you’d get called in to the hospital.

Both of you were very understanding when it came the other one’s job, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t 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 boyfriend’s 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.

“Good morning beautiful. How was your sleep?”

“Amazing. I always sleep so much better when I’m with you. You showered without me?” You gave him an adorable pout and his laughter engulfed throughout his room.

“I didn’t want to wake you. My boss called me an hour ago and asked me to come in for a briefing. I’m sorry, I didn’t want to leave you but I won’t be long. I made you some breakfast, it’s in the microwave so just heat it up when you’re 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.”

You couldn’t 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 you’ve 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 you’ve seen him.

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.

“Have I ever told you how sexy you look in my clothes?” You looked up at him and playfully rolled your eyes.

“Yes. Many times. But I don’t necessarily mind hearing it. Have I ever told you how sexy you look in your uniform?” He bit his lip before nodding his head in agreement.

“Yeah. I don’t particularly look as sexy when I return from putting out a fire looking all dirty and sweaty though.”

“Speak for yourself. I think that’s when you look the hottest, no pun intended.” This earned you a sarcastic groan from your boyfriend. “Why don’t you get going? As much as I love cuddling with you, I don’t want you getting in trouble with the chief. Go, so you can come back sooner. I miss you already.” He placed a soft kiss on your forehead and stole one more from your lips before running out the door.

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 wasn’t going to be long, you thought he would be back in an hour or two. But now it was nearing six o’clock 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 couldn’t help but run towards him once he entered and jumped up on him as if it’s been years since you’ve seen him.

You knew something must’ve been clouding his thoughts when he didn’t react to your sudden clinginess but you didn’t 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.

“Hey, everything okay?” He gave you a sad smile before leading you towards the couch.

“Let’s talk.” 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.

“I was supposed to come home hours ago. The meeting wasn’t even an hour long. My dad—he uh—he 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 doesn’t 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 can’t be rude to someone no matter how much I want to. I decided to listen to what my father had to say and that’s 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. That’s 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 didn’t want to take my anger out on you.”

You brought your fingers up to his face and gently caressed his cheek. “Mark—“ He placed his forehead against your chest and left a few wet kisses against your collarbone.

“You said you’re willing to give up everything for me right? That you’re willing to cut all ties with your family if it means we can be together right?”

You nodded without hesitation. You’d do anything for the beautiful man standing in front of you. He ran his fingers through your hair and smiled widely at you.

“Let’s runaway then baby. I don’t know where we’ll go, where we’ll live or what we’re going to do once we leave but I don’t care about that. You. All I ever care about and will care about is you. As long as we’re together, I don’t care where we’ll end up. I’m sure any hospital would be happy to hire you and I can always transfer to another fire station. I don’t care if we end up in a crummy ass apartment or a six bedroom house—well, a six bedroom house does sound nice. But I don’t care about what the future holds as long as you’re in it. I refuse to picture life without you y/n. I’m sorry if that’s not what you want and don’t 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. I’ll do whatever you want to do baby. Just say the word.”

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, you’d 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.

“I meant everything I said last night. I’d go anywhere for you, do anything to make you happy, be anyone you want me to be. I just need you. I’m yours. Forever. It’s you and me forever baby.”

#got7 imagines #got7 #mark tuan #got7 mark #got7 fluff #mark tuan got7 #got7 preferences #got7 drabbles #my kpop therapy boy

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chinatea · 5 years ago

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Jikook Sexy Alien AU Part 1

Personas are a product of @satellite-jeon ‘s beautiful mind.

This is WIP and still pretty drafty, and I’ll be posting new parts to tumbler as I finish them. I’m planning 4-5 parts overall.

For my best girl @kmheart <3333 Thank you for loving this mess. <333

Warnings: Coarse language.

Jungkook doesn’t know exactly when his life took a dive from awesome to downright shitty.

And even if he did, he wouldn’t be telling that story any time soon ‘cause no one gives a rat’s arse about good ol’ boy Jungkook who scrubs pools for a living.

It didn’t 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 rock’n’roll.

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.

And when he’s not cleaning pools, he’s 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 can’t mind their own fucking business. Needless to say, no love lost.

As much as Jungkook wants to punch his stupid teeth out - what’s left of them anyhow - he needs the money and it’s 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.

‘Cause once the summer ends, Jungkook will burn down his fucking shack and hit the road, because he’s 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.

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 he’s 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 doesn’t have people looming over his ass, he prefers taking things slow. At his own pace. That’s what he’s all about.

As much as he could wrap things up faster and call it a day, he’s 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 he’d 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.

It’s private and quiet and damn therapeutic. Like, he could just close his eyes and pretend it’s all his. That he’s not a broke-ass dude about to keel over any day now, but someone who is in control of his life.

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.

Nice, Jungkook thinks.

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, he’s 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 this…

What the fuck is this? he thinks, staring agog at the offender, hogging the pool now.

It looks like…something.

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 it’s here, right in his face, obstructing his work. Like a bastard.

He’ll 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. It’s 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 it’d ended up stuck in his pool.

Those rich fucks and their stupid malfunctioning toys, eh.

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 doesn’t 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 doesn’t 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.

It’s definitely a he. A he so stunning Jungkook’s jaw goes slack and his brain radio-silent. Meanwhile, the he doesn’t waste any time making the most of their proximity as he slithers his hands around Jungkook’s neck and presses against him in a soft sweet kiss.

A supernova goes off at the back of his skull.

It was awesome.

“Hello,” the other says, a quality to his voice that is out of this world. He must be out of this world, because how?

“I’m Jimin.”

“Hi,” Jungkook says.

A dumb grin takes over his face.

He’s tingly all over. He thinks he’s in love.

“You’re gorgeous, Jimin-ah. Will you marry me?”

“Marry?” Jimin says tentatively as if testing the word on his tongue. His lips are pretty and full, forming a perpetual pout. It’s adorable. “I can’t marry. I need to mate.”

“Oh.” That throws Jungkook for a loop, as his heart swells with emotion. “Mate who?”

“You,” Jimin smiles. “Serendipity has chosen you as the most suitable candidate within this quadrant of our galaxy. We’re compatible.”

“Wow,” 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 now…he’s the luckiest son of a bitch in the whole fucking quadrant of their galaxy.

“You do know I’m scrubbing pools for a living, right?”

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 Jungkook’s arm muscles, bulging all prettily just for him - this shameless little minx.

“I know everything about you,” Jimin says, his voice washing over Jungkook’s mind like a gentle summer tide.

Turns his brain all mush-mush.

“Every second of your waking moment. Every dream, every thought you’ve had. Serendipity has shown me all of it.”

Whomever this Serendipity is, Jungkook hopes it didn’t show every single thought he had. After a certain age, they’d 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.

“You’re thinking too much,” Jimin purrs, tapping his temple lightly.

His hands wind up in Jungkook’s 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 they’re kissing again and it plays out like a dream.

He’s doing something, but he’s not really in control. It feels good. Peaceful, he’s in a safe place. Jimin’s touches are weightless and tender as he maps out his body with the very tips of his fingers.

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.

It’s gone as sudden as it came and Jungkook finds himself yearning.

“We can’t do it here,” Jimin says as they both move upright in sync. He grabs Jungkook’s hand. “Let’s go. Serendipity will have to stay here for now.”

“Serendipity?” Jungkook asks, shaking off the drowsiness as his brain slowly kicks back into gear. “You mean that pod thing?”

“Don’t call her ‘a thing’,” Jimin chides. “She has feelings. Quite a temper, too.”

“Damn, a she-pod with feelings”.

They’re standing now with Jimin plastered against his chest and nuzzling his mighty pec. Not awkward at all.

“She’s a ship. The most intelligent ship in the whole galaxy. Completely self-aware,” Jimin says, exploring the vastness of Jungkook’s chest with his curious palms now. Jungkook starts to notice a certain obsession here of a tactile nature, but can’t find it in himself to complain. “Be kind to her.”

“I am kind,” Jungkook says. “I’m like...wait, who are you?”

“I’m Jimin.”

“Okay,” Jungkook nods. “But what kind of Jimin are you? Where did you come from? You’re not with the Joneses here, are you?”

With the burden of rational thinking, Jungkook slumps into a realization that he has questions. And he must ask them.

“No, I’m from space,” Jimin says like it’s not big deal. “We need to go,” he commands, taking charge and dragging Jungkook along.

“Space? Wow,” Jungkook says. “That’s, ah, nice, I guess. Never been myself, what with the radiation and minus fuck-ton degrees, you know. Transportation kinda sucks, too. I don’t know if you’re aware but we’re 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?”

“Here is not safe,” Jimin says and at least, it’s not a no. “Serendipity can hide herself well enough, but it’s a matter of time before he tracks me down. And if that happens, I don’t want him to track me down right next to her.”

“Who’s he?”

“Just a man who never gives up what’s his.”

“You mean, like, ex-boyfriend?” Jungkook asks, swallowing down an annoying spike of jealousy. “Do you even have boyfriends in space?”

“I meant Serendipity, not me,” Jimin says. “And yes, we do have boyfriends up there in space. You don’t have to worry though, he’s been mated for the past five hundred years. He’s that boring.”

Jungkook lets out a low whistle.

“If his mate looks anything like you, that’s understandable.”

#jikook #jikook au #personas au

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redroseredemption · 4 years ago

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Kamen Rider Ex-Aid Review

Since I’m getting closer to the ending of Ghost, I’d thought I’d post my review of Ex-Aid. I know it’s 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 you’ve 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, let’s get this over with… What I Liked: -The Opening: I freakin’ love Excite! It’s one of the best toku theme songs. Every time I’d watch an episode of Ex-Aid, I would sit through the opening just to listen to this song. It’s that good. Too bad for like 10-12 episodes it was more like an ending song but I didn’t 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 actor’s hot

- The Game Driver and the Gasthats: At first I wasn’t sure about them. They’re so campy looking with their design and the neon bright colors, but over time I grew to really like them. They’re so different compared to other Rider belts. An odd one but I find when the belt says “GASHATO” very satisfying. -Kuroto and Masamune Actors: I love how much fun they’re having playing their characters. I’ve heard Kuroto’s actor is the one that gave him the crazy personality and Masamune’s actor is a famous musician and carries his gashat to his shows. I think that’s really sweet.

-Brave and Para-DX design: All his forms are great. He’s the best looking rider in my opinion in this show next to Para-DX who designs is just gorgeous. I’m 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 “treatment” of a patient because he wanted a gashat, but when he’s with Nico he’s tolerable. They’re dynamic made me kind of like him as the show went on. I’ve heard what the brave and snipe movie does to him, however I’m 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 “Become the world's best doctor” is amazingly well done. How there’s no music when Saki keeps repeating her line and her face is glitching out. The tone of that scene was phenomenal. What I Didn’t Like: -Emu: Despite the fact that I put him in the “Didn’t Like” section, I don’t think Emu is a bad character. It’s his characterization I hae a problem with. He’s super inconsistent. Generally, he’s 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 there’s the scene with Kuroto where Emu says “he’s a good person.” That whole speech made me good “What the fuck is wrong with you, Emu?!” considering Kuroto killed Kiriya, Emu’s friend! The whole “M” personality part of him was not handled well. There are times throughout the show where I wasn’t even sure who was who. When you can tell who is who, like the one time Parad possesses Emu, he doesn’t know how Emu talks...even though he’s supposed to be “M” and should know how Emu speaks… I don’t know if that’s Emu’s actor, Hiroki Iijima, not being able to act as “M” 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. There’s 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. There’s no build-up to it, no foreshadowing, no indication whatsoever. He brutally beats up Parad and “kills him.” All to teach him a lesson about humanity and death. It’s so out of character and cruel for a character that’s supposed to be empathetic and caring. And all because we needed another “shock death.” 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.There’s being tsundere and then there’s 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 wasn’t executed well. The only scenes we see of Hiiro and his girlfriend, Saki, together before she “dies” are when he’s being a total dick to her and when she succumbs to the virus. That’s it. If we had scenes where they were a loving couple, I could be more sympathetic to Hiiro but he’s no different before Saki died and after. He’s just an asshole and yes, I get that some people are simply assholes, but if you want me to care about your character then don’t 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 didn’t 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 there’s no better way to describe it. She’s an object in human form for our heroes to obtain. If Saki was given a character at all, I wouldn’t be as pissed as I am with her treatment. Taiga: What is better than a character that’s an asshole for no reason? How about TWO characters that are assholes for no reason! Taiga wasn’t interesting by himself. I didn’t care about him or his “struggles” (which barely got to see in the show proper anyway) The only times he was was when he’s with Nico, but other than that I really didn’t care for him.

Kuroto: The villain of the first half of the show that becomes a meme. I don’t have too much to say about Kuroto, just that it’s 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 I’m hearing about Zero-One, Gai as well.

Parad: Creepy gremlin that should not have been "M" “ I didn’t understand life that couldn’t continue.” No you understood, you lying sack a shit. In all seriousness, Parad never felt like he was a “full character” to me. He always felt like nothing more than a lackey like Graphite. Speaking of Graphite…

Graphite: If there was an award for the most wasted character in toku, he’d be it. He was the bugster created from Saki’s death. He was Hiiro’s and Taiga’s 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 Kiriya’s death and Emu trips over himself. Or when a character dies and the voice pops in with cheery fanfair and says “GAME CLEAR” It’s like this show wants to tell this deep dramatic, story but you got clowns running aorund in the background honking.

Overall Thoughts: This show wasn’t for me. I couldn’t 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 I’ve seen yet. It goes in the “trash” tier.

(I have watched Kamen Rider Black and Gaim, but it’s been YEARS since I’ve seen them and I don’t feel confident to rank them with how long ago I’ve watched them. Also I’m ranking Amazons season 1. Haven’t watched season 2 yet)

#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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ober-affen-geil · 4 years ago

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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 😁🤓

*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 didn’t 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 it’s fucking dumb ok.)

I remember liking learning about the language, because again, this was our introduction to “Shakespeare” 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 wasn’t a question of “oh I didn’t get it because I couldn’t see it acted” (we’ll 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 didn’t like the story.

But.

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 “A Banquet at Dunsinane”.

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 “dinner theatre” part of it was that the audience functioned as all the filler guests at the banquet; we were set up in the school’s cafeteria arranged in a long rectangle with a “head table” for the actors and the stage space in the middle.

I know there’s 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 that’s 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.

You can read the stage directions for Lady Macduff running off stage from her son’s 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 “Exit Lady Macduff crying ‘murder’ pursued by murderers” 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 it’s this: if you want someone to get into a play, any play but Shakespeare especially, watch it before you read it and make sure it’s 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, they’ve 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 “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” up, that was awesome.

This is a short video with a linguist and his (actor) son talking about “original pronunciation” in Shakespearian works and how they’ve been able (more or less) to “reconstruct” the “accent” that Shakespearian works “should” have been performed it; the accent that makes rhymes actually work and reveal puns (filthy puns because this is Shakespeare ofc) that we’ve lost to time because pronunciation changes. It’s 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. I’ve 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 “Shakespeare’s beginnings” done by the same people who do “Horrible Histories”. It’s 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 it’s 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 Night’s Dream, and The Taming of the Shrew. (This is the version of Macbeth with James MacAvoy and the “when pigs fly” thing which is great, and the version of Much Ado where Hero is played by Billie Piper and at the end she’s basically like “no fuck you, you’re a dick” 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.

#personal #rant #ask #shakespeare #a riley special

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nerianasims · 4 years ago

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Billboard #1s 1985

Under the cut.

Foreigner -- "I Want To Know What Love Is" -- February 2, 1985

One of the quintessential 80s power ballads. It's actually kind of interesting if you think about it enough. He's not in love yet, but he's gotten sick of not being in love, so he's asking someone he's in the pre-love stage with to show him. Though he's had "heartache and pain" before, and doesn't know if he can face it again. It's not consistent. I feel like it's a missed opportunity, but oh well. It's good enough for what it is.

Wham! -- "Careless Whisper" -- February 16, 1985

Oh my god I love the saxophone in this. The music throughout the song is so incredibly sexy. And this is the kind of song George Michael's voice was made for. He's totally capable of sounding both hot and in agony at the same time. I actually adore a whole lot of cheating songs -- mostly, though not exclusively, the tormented kind. Drama! Love! Sex! Angst! Gorgeous.

REO Speedwagon -- "Can't Fight This Feeling" -- March 9, 1985

<3. He keeps singing "r"s like a pirate, but he doesn't go as hard on the other consonants, so I'm good with it. Lyrically, this song sounds like it might be two songs mashed together. "What started out as friendship has grown stronger" or "my life has been such a whirlwind since I saw you." Well which is it? Except I've had that happen. I love this song.

Phil Collins -- "One More Night" -- March 30, 1985

This is a depressing heartbreak song without the saving grace of any of Phil Collins' neat drum stuff. Blah.

We Are the World -- April 13, 1985

Whoo boy. I was 8 when this came out. Obviously I loved it. All the kids loved it. Now, though... I'm sorry, but it's bad. Really bad. Many others have gone deeply into why it's bad. I feel acutely embarrassed listening to it, so I'm just running away from it as fast as possible. (Remember all those celebrities singing "Imagine" in their mansions in 2020? I blame this song for that.)

Madonna -- "Crazy For You" -- May 11, 1985

This is one of Madonna's most straightforward love songs. Maybe the most, period. This or "Cherish," and this is a better song. It's lovely. Like Olivia Newton-John, Madonna can act a song. (Unlike in most movies she's been in.) But what I'm thinking about now is learning in this article that her label wouldn't let Madonna release "Into the Groove" as a single. That song was huge. It was played on the radio all the time. If it had been released as a single, or maybe if Billboard had tracked songs then like it does today, it would have been a massive smash, definitely #1. "Into the Groove" is also the best song of her very early career. "Crazy for You" is good, but not nearly as special.

Simple Minds -- "Don't You Forget About Me" -- May 18, 1985

As I am "Gen X", I am supposed to deeply connect with The Breakfast Club. I was 8 years old when it came out. My life as a teenager was nothing, and I mean absolutely nothing, like that movie. I didn't recognize any of the "types." I liked the movie when I saw it in college, mostly, but the whole sexual harassment turns into a relationship deal was not seen as cool any longer. The "jocks vs. nerds" thing also felt very dated. The school in the movie was bigger and richer than mine, but it's a fantasy.

Anyway, though I don't feel much about the movie, its breakout song was really good. It does speak to a real fear both in graduating high school and during young adult relationships. I haven't forgotten the people I knew in high school, as far as I know, but obviously they don't have the same importance to me any longer. I'm Facebook friends with a lot of them. And very much not with a couple who were the most important then, because we grew apart -- or blasted apart. One of the nicest girls I knew in high school thinks there's a war on Christmas. Another keeps trying to get me to join her MLM. One of my best friends became my first boyfriend, and I don't regret that, but it was also a semi-disaster. And others... we just have nothing to say to each other any longer.

So, Breakfast Club: I don't connect with at all. "Don't You Forget About Me": Speaks to something very real and timeless.

Wham! -- "Everything She Wants" -- May 25, 1985

What a dick. Songs in which the narrator is a colossal jerk are perfectly fine, of course, but this one gets under my skin. He's whining about his wife getting pregnant when she's dissatisfied with their life and that they're broke. As if it's something she chose to do to him. She's stuck creating a whole other person with her blood and flesh, and he thinks it's all and entirely about him. I really hate it.

Tears for Fears -- "Everybody Wants to Rule the World" -- June 8, 1985

I can't hear this song without thinking of this Baldur's Gate fan trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jdd06d2nids. Speaking of which, I am incredibly excited for Baldur's Gate 3. I've been reading the early access reviews on Steam, and anything anyone is saying that's negative is stuff I don't gaf about (except bugs), whereas the positive stuff, I care about deeply. I hope it's got some of the feeling of that trailer. Um, right, Tears for Fears.

Honestly, though, it works best as a Baldur's Gate theme song. I don't think everybody actually wants to rule the world. It sounds good though. And pretty different from other stuff around it. But I like Lorde's cover better, and not just because it fits so wonderfully with all sorts of fantasy stories.

I usually play a paladin or paladin-type the first time in fantasy RPGs, but I'm thinking bard this time.

Bryan Adams -- "Heaven" -- June 22, 1985

He's been with this woman since they were young, and while they've broken up and gone through rough patches, now they're together forever and they're "in heaven." Bryan Adams knew exactly how to write a song that would become a hit. I used to not mind it at all, but it also means nothing to me. The chorus is catchy as hell though. So catchy that I ended up waking up with it in my head and it would not leave for hours and hours, so now I resent this song.

Phil Collins -- "Sussudio" -- July 6, 1985

I refuse to believe anyone ever told Phil Collins he was too young. He was born middle-aged. Anyway, the narrator isn't supposed to be him, so it's fine, but it's still kinda funny. He's got a crush on someone who doesn't even know his name, but "she's all I need all of my life." Um. The music is repetitive, the drums aren't as interesting as Phil Collins at his best, and I don't like the lyrics. I don't hate it, but I don't like it either.

Duran Duran -- "View to a Kill" -- July 13, 1985

I'm not sure I've ever heard this song before. It's about as good a song as the Bond movie they wrote it for was as a movie. In other words, it's bad. I'm not even sure there's a melody. Just a mess. "Ordinary World" would have made a far better Bond theme, but of course that was the 90s, when Duran Duran decided to try to make sense both lyrically and musically.

Paul Young -- "Every Time You Go Away" -- July 27, 1985

I like the high keyboard notes in this. They're sort of haunting. The rest of the song is musically pretty good, too. Lyrically though, it's only passable. This woman keeps leaving him every time "the leading man" shows up, so I guess he's the backup. Why does he keep waiting for her anyway? There's no hint in the song. I'm kind of embarrassed for him.

Tears for Fears -- "Shout" -- August 3, 1985

I think "Everybody Wants to Rule the World" is a better song than this one when done by Lorde. But I think "Shout" is a better song than Tears for Fears' original iteration of "Everybody Wants to Rule the World." The chorus seems clear enough. But the verses are not. "They gave you life/ And in return you gave them hell" makes sense in isolation, but then there's a bunch of stuff that doesn't go with it. Like "I'd really love to break your heart" -- wtf? But the music is really good.

Huey Lewis and the News -- "The Power of Love" -- August 24, 1985

This was the big song for Back to the Future, and it meshed beautifully with the movie, but it doesn't need that association to be a great song. "Don't need money, don't take fame/ Don't need no credit card to ride this train/ It's strong and it's sudden, it can be cruel sometimes/ But it might just save your life." Yep. It's sort of Motown, sort of rock, and I love it. (Also: "Stronger and harder than a bad girl's dream." Heh.)

John Parr -- "St. Elmo's Fire" -- August 24, 1985

Of all the John Hughes movies I have not seen and do not plan to see, St. Elmo's Fire sure is one of them. The song is about a disabled man who inspired people by rolling himself cross-country in his wheelchair for charity, which has absolutely nothing to do with the movie. I'm disabled, and I just... okay look, what he did was admirable. But we shouldn't have to be inspirations to be counted as worthwhile, and I've been told I should die because I can't produce for capitalism, so you know. I've got some personal issues with this and I'm gonna move along.

Dire Straits -- "Money for Nothing" -- September 21, 1985

This is not Dire Straits' best song, but it's an awfully fun one. I watched the video tons when I was a kid. (That sound is Tipper Gore falling to the floor in a dead faint.) The music is great rock. And the lyrics are very true-to-life. You can either sanitize people or present them as they are honestly, and I know which I prefer.

Ready for the World -- "Oh Sheila" -- October 12, 1985

The band's from Michigan. The English accent at the beginning of the song is fake. That's a good preview for the song, which sounds like a 3rd-rate Prince knockoff at best. Blech.

a-ha -- "Take On Me" -- October 19, 1985

The video totally ripped off one of my aunts. Somehow or other, they saw into the little comic she drew for me about someone going into a land of drawings to rescue someone else in a romantic adventure, years before 1985. Anyway, this song is great musically, massively synthesizer heavy without sounding artificial. Though I can only understand maybe a third of the lyrics as he sings them. I've always understood "It's no better to be safe than sorry" though. Yep, at least when it comes to romance, which is what they're singing about here.

Whitney Houston -- "Saving All My Love for You" -- October 26, 1985

It's not better to be safe than sorry, but that doesn't mean it's good to be an absolute idiot in matters of romance either. Nor is it good to be a colossal jerk. That's what the narrator is here -- the "you" she's singing to is married. And he won't leave his wife and children, though he used to say he would. The lyrics seem to say that's she's accepted the situation, but the way Houston sings it, I think the narrator's trying to get him to leave his wife -- and children -- for her still. This makes sense, as it puts some kind of passion and sense of story into the song, which without Houston's singing would not be there. The narrator certainly never acknowledges that what she's doing is wrong in the slightest iota. This song could be done in a way that works. But it's a completely sincere ballad. So, no. I despise the narrator, I despise the man she's singing to more, and the whole thing leaves me feeling gross.

Stevie Wonder -- "Part Time Lover" -- November 2, 1985

No one's thinking anyone's gonna leave anyone in this one. It's about cheating, and the thrill of it, but then at the end, he's found out his wife's cheating on him too. "I guess that two can play the game/ Of part-time lovers." This kind of funk groove is one way you make a song like this. It makes the whole thing sexy and fun, and the lyrics also work even beyond that ending, because they acknowledge it's wrong.

Jon Hammer -- "Miami Vice Theme" -- November 9, 1985

My parents didn't watch Miami Vice. And then I never felt like watching it in re-runs when I got older. I don't recognize this song. It's an energetic instrumental, but there's so much going on, I keep trying to figure out if there's a main musical idea anywhere. Nope. Just lots and lots of synth. Headache-inducing.

Starship -- "We Built This City" -- November 16, 1985

Blech. This song sounds both unfinished and overproduced somehow. The chorus seems designed to be catchy with absolute ruthlessness by people who didn't really care, and no one involved even seems to want to bother to fake it.

Phil Collins & Marilyn Martin -- "Separate Lives" -- November 30, 1985

This is supposed to be heart-wrenchingly sad. Well, it does tank my dopamine, but that's not what a good sad song does. A good sad song makes you feel better. This one makes me need to turn on something high-energy after about 30 seconds, before I sink into bleakness. It's aggressively boring.

Mr. Mister -- "Broken Wings" -- December 7, 1985

This was one of the first songs I recorded from the radio. On my pink tape deck/radio that was a sort of a mini boom box. I've always had my own tape player since I can remember, but that was a definite upgrade from the Sesame Street one. I was 9 then, so getting more seriously into music and developing my own taste intentionally, rather than simply absorbing what was happening around me.

Anyway, the song. It's about a relationship in trouble, and he wants to stay with her. To me it sounds like she has been so seriously hurt (and not by him), that she can't trust anyone, and he's laying himself on the line for her. That has spoken to me deeply ever since I first heard the song as a child. Moving on to the music: While the lyrics are repetitive, the music is not, which is what makes the song so good. It's a beautiful song.

Lionel Richie -- "Say You, Say Me" -- December 21, 1985

I look forward to Lionel Richie no longer being on the charts. This song was on the soundtrack of some movie I've never heard of. I wish I'd never heard of the song. Totally artificial glop.

BEST OF 1985: "Don't You Forget About Me" by Simple Minds WORST OF 1985: "We Built This City" by Starship

#billboard number ones

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