#genuinely a little upset about how high my drafts have gotten
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I am once again apologizing for my absence, I think I have bronchitis (again) and I’m struggling emotionally as well (again) so I’ve been taking an informal break so I don’t put any unnecessary pressure on myself.
hopefully I’ll be around soon, maybe even this weekend, but I’m not willing to push myself before I’m ready just for the sake of keeping my blog active, so I’ll just have to ask you all to be patient with me
#genuinely a little upset about how high my drafts have gotten#they’re back to the same number they were right after my hiatus :( and it took so much work to get them almost done#I just feel bad for everybody who’s continuing to answer my threads and asks and stuff in my absence#but also so grateful bc truly sometimes that little hit of happy from a reply is what gets me through to the end of the work day#anyway I’m gonna go to bed and then try some breathing treatments and meds later 💕 wish me luck#ily all#ooc.
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pajamas - day seven
@juminweek2019
jumin x mc
rating: T
prompt: {striped shirts} / silk underwear
warnings: spoilers for day 7 of Jumin’s route!
word count: 2,500
ao3 link
[my Ko-fi♡]
They're both against her wearing Jumin's shirt as her pajamas, but that won't stop her.
note: this takes place during and after the chat at 21:58 on day 7 of Jumin's route! this is one of my favorite parts of his route.
also, thank you all so much for all your support throughout this week! please stay safe and enjoy! ♡
°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。
She glanced over at him as her face began to flush with color. Jumin had settled into the couch a few minutes earlier, opting to sit at the opposite end from her. He seemed lost in thought; his gaze wasn’t quite focused on the phone in his hands, so her eyes flitted back to her own device, scanning the messages once more to make sure she hadn’t imagined them.
ZEN: Anyways, I get that you’re not getting any weird thoughts
ZEN: even though you’re alone with MC right now.
Jumin Han: I don’t know.
ZEN: What do you mean;;
She pressed her teeth into her tongue, glancing back up only to meet Jumin’s eyes. She looked away quickly, focusing on thinking about what to say in response instead of the heat in her cheeks.
She smiled as a silly thought came into her mind, knowing that Zen would absolutely hate the very idea. But that only spurred her on. She also wanted to help shift the subject a little, knowing that Jumin was having a rough time and didn’t need to be interrogated.
MC: I… want to wear Jumin’s striped shirt as my pajamas, but he keeps stopping me.
She hesitantly pressed send, watching as a small smile lifted Jumin’s lips. She saw him begin typing, her heart jumping at what he would have to say. But as she looked back to the chatroom in anticipation, she was met with the exact reaction she’d expected from Zen.
ZEN: No!!!!!!!!!
She couldn’t help but giggle to herself, the sound drawing Jumin’s gaze as he finished typing.
Jumin Han: Your pajamas will be delivered soon in perfect size.♛
ZEN: No!!!!
ZEN: Never!!
ZEN: Don’t even think about pajamas.
ZEN: Since you’re not spending the night there!
She couldn’t help but be amused, rolling her eyes a little at how worked up Zen was getting and how she’d been able to guess that he’d have that reaction.
But the whole conversation sparked an idea in her mind, one that rapidly grew into a plan. She was undoubtedly grateful that Jumin had gone to the trouble of ordering tailored clothes for her, but seeing how adamant Zen was about her not wearing his shirt stirred a sort of childish mischief in her.
Before she could convince herself otherwise, she stood from the couch and met Jumin’s gaze when it was drawn to her.
“Is it okay if I use the bathroom?” she asked. He nodded, standing from the couch to meet her.
“Of course. It’s that door just there,” he informed her, gesturing with his hand towards the door she’d already guessed led to the bathroom.
“Thank you,” she smiled, stepping forward to walk past him. She quickly realized she could have gone the other way, noticing how small of a space she had to squeeze between him and the coffee table. A bright blush rose to her cheeks as she clenched her jaw in embarrassment.
“Sorry,” she breathed out as she moved past him, feeling her body lightly brush against his. His soft scent washed over her senses, making her heart jump against her ribs. But she kept walking, moving to the bathroom quickly and almost regretting getting up at all.
She closed the door as gently as possible, leaning against it and breathing out. She hadn’t gotten a glimpse of his face, but if she had, what would his expression have looked like?
Shaking her head, she pressed her hands to her cheeks, hoping to cool them down. She had been sent to his penthouse to make sure that he was okay, not to flirt with him. She couldn’t deny her attraction to him, but she hadn’t even known him for a full week.
Taking a deep breath, she lifted her eyes to look around the spacious bathroom. It was pretty fancy, but the laundry basket adjacent to the shower was the only thing that caught her eye. She moved over to it quickly, pulling the wicker lid from the top and peering inside.
A short sigh left her lungs in relief, and a giddy, almost nervous smile stretched across her face. She’d guessed that Jumin would change when he arrived home from work. Even though he was still wearing a dress shirt and slacks, it seemed like a casual outfit for him. And it turned out she was right because a pinstriped, button-up shirt was lying in the basket waiting for her to take it.
She briefly laughed, taking the shirt from the basket and sizing it up. She figured it would be quite big on her, but the fabric was so soft, and it smelled like Jumin. It would be more comfortable than any other clothing she could sleep in.
Her phone vibrated against the marble countertop by the sink, prompting her to pick it up and read over the messages she’d missed in the chatroom. Jumin had suggested a party guest at Zen’s request and then said that it was probably time for her to sleep. Zen said his goodbyes, leaving her to continue on with her plan.
She was beginning to undress when there was a knock at the door.
“Y-yes?” she answered, sliding her arm back through her shirt quickly.
“Excuse me. Your pajamas arrived. Would you like to change into them?” Jumin spoke through the door, putting a smile on her face at both his kindness and his soft voice.
“Oh, sure,” she replied, placing his shirt back in the hamper before opening the bathroom door. He stood there, the draft from the door brushing his hair across his forehead, with the folded pajamas in his hands.
“Thank you,” she smiled, reaching to take them from him. His hands brushed hers, his skin soft and warm and immediately making her stomach tie itself in knots. He pressed his lips together, returning his hands to his sides before taking a gentle breath.
“It’s my pleasure,” he responded. “I want you to be comfortable here, so please, if you need anything let me know,” he told her, his tone genuine and kind. She hugged the pajamas to her chest, feeling her heart swell at his hospitality. It was more than she could ever ask for though; all she really needed was his company.
“Okay,” she breathed out, completely charmed by his words and his warm look. She began closing the door, seeing him nod and turn to walk back towards what she guessed was the couch.
When the door was closed, she locked it, placing the pajamas on the bathroom counter and taking a deep breath. His sweet words made her second-guess herself, and she worried her bottom lip between her teeth and she went over it again in her mind.
She knew she would be much more comfortable in something simple. The pajamas looked to be made of something expensive, and although grateful, she knew she would feel slightly nervous to be wearing something so fancy to bed.
She also knew that Zen’s reaction would almost certainly make her laugh, and it might even amuse Jumin too. That was enough to push her forward, leaving her undergarments on as she pulled on his shirt and carefully buttoned it up.
It was definitely oversized on her, the ends of the shirt meeting just above the halfway point of her thighs. The sleeves fell past her hands, the button cuffs at the end undone. She looked in the mirror, glad that the fabric wasn’t see through and making sure that she’d buttoned it up high enough.
She turned and took a deep breath, placing a hand on the door handle and letting out another quiet laugh at what she was doing. But she steeled herself, opening the door and stepping out to find him waiting for her on the arm of the armchair near the couch. His hands were in his lap, and it seemed like he had dimmed the lights.
But it was as clear as day when she was met with a shocked expression, an uncontrollable blush spreading across her face.
“D-did…” he started to say, his voice faltering before he stopped to clear his throat. He stood to meet her, walking a few paces forward but staying a safe distance. He kept his eyes firmly on hers. It was hard to tell in the dim light, but she could have sworn there was a hint of pink just above his cheekbones.
“Did the pajamas not fit correctly?” he asked her, his intense gaze making her throat run dry. She looked down at herself, gripping the end of the shirt tightly.
“I just thought this would be a lot more comfortable,” she replied, seeing his eyebrows furrow slightly at her words. “I hope this is okay,” she added quickly, hoping she hadn’t upset him. He let out a breath that sounded shaky, his hands moving to adjust the button cuffs on the ends of his own sleeves.
“I see. I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable...” he spoke tensely, his voice trailing off as his eyes moved to her hands. She pressed her lips together, glancing down at them and back to him in confusion.
“Let me help you with those sleeves,” he offered, taking a careful step towards her and extending his hand. But before he touched her, his hand froze, their eyes meeting once more in an electrified gaze.
“May I?” he asked, raising his eyebrows at her. She nodded, feeling her breaths move in and out of her lungs at a quick pace. She’d had no idea that she would get so nervous once she was in his sight.
Jumin found her wrist beneath the fabric of the shirt, his cold fingers lifting her arm towards his chest. The soft sleeve slid from her skin, exposing her shaky hand as he turned it over and signaled for her to hold her arm there. His adept fingers worked to fold up the sleeve to a comfortable length for her, securing the buttons just above her wrist.
She was about to thank him, but then he took her hand in his again, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the inside of her wrist. Her heart leapt into action, the heat already in her cheeks spreading into her neck.
But Jumin remained silent, seeming to calm slightly as her heart rate only rose higher and higher. He lifted her other hand, adjusting the button cuff there and then kissing the same spot on her wrist.
It was only after his lips left her skin that he met her gaze, his gray eyes shadowy but warm in the dim lights of his penthouse. She could no longer find it in herself to speak, feeling like she couldn’t trust her voice after the tender care he’d offered her.
“I never thought seeing someone else in my clothes would stir such a strong reaction in me,” he said, his voice deep and throaty. He searched her eyes, seeming to be waiting for a response. She had been distracted trying to put a name to the warmth spreading through her chest, but she’d heard him loud and clear.
“Is it a good reaction?” she asked, glad that her voice didn’t fail her.
“Yes,” he replied quickly, his eyes burning into hers. “Very much so.”
It was then that he lifted his hand to her face, his fingertips ghosting across her jaw before he brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. Her skin felt like it could ignite under his touch, and her lips fell open in a soundless gasp when he moved to cup her cheek. His palm felt cool again the heat of her skin, her heart fluttering rapidly.
He pulled his hand from her face, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear before running his fingers through the length of it incredibly gently. His eyes were wide, seeming as if he wanted to take everything in and never forget it.
His hand returned to her cheek, and she watched his eyes wander her face, landing on her lips.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, the softest smile gracing his countenance. She felt weak, but she never wanted him to stop, his touch being a drug that she was willing to be addicted to.
His thumb moved to her bottom lip, slowly tracing the gentle curve of it. She felt his left hand move to caress her other cheek, removing his thumb from her lips and starting to move closer. She let her eyes find his mouth, anticipating his next move, but it was then that he stopped himself, searching her eyes as his widened once more.
Jumin began to pull back, letting his skin slide off hers disappointingly. She immediately missed the warmth of his touch, a look of confusion drawing her eyebrows downward.
“Forgive me. I’m keeping you awake,” he spoke gently, remaining so close to her. She didn’t want to pressure him, especially when there was so much going on in his head, but her heart was still racing from the thought of kissing him.
But she composed herself, trying to reign in the fire just beneath her skin and put on a smile.
“Where will you sleep?” she asked him, feeling her stomach drop when he averted his eyes, opting to look at the floor. Even though she moved to amend her question, she couldn’t deny that seeing his cheeks flush felt like an accomplishment.
“I-I just feel bad for stealing your bed,” she explained, hearing a short, breathy laugh come from him as he met her gaze again.
“I’ll be fine,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest as he took another half-step back from her. “I don’t think I’ll sleep. I have some things to think about,” he told her. She was unable to help the worry that settled into her features, guilt pressing against her conscience.
“But nothing for you to worry,” he smiled, making her expression lighten. “Just rest up on my bed.” She nodded, looking over at the large bed that waited for her. She glanced back at him, wishing the pain in his eyes could be taken away by sheer will.
“Goodnight, Jumin,” she spoke softly, wanting to reach out to him but restraining herself. He bowed his head slightly, offering her a smile that she hoped she would get to see more often.
“Goodnight,” he said, watching her walk over and crawl into his bed. She smiled at him as he flipped the lights off completely, seeing him move towards the kitchen.
When he disappeared from sight, she let out a dizzy sigh, the thought of his hands on her making her heart race all over again.
As she laid in his bed trying to calm down, she admired how quiet the penthouse was. She felt safe there. It was so silent, in fact, that when Jumin let out his own shaky sigh and laughed, she could hear it loud and clear.
~~~~~
hehe, as I was writing this, I was thinking that if this happened in his route, it would probably be on the way to a bad ending...yikes
anyway! aaaaah! I can’t believe this week is already over! thank you all so much for all your kind comments and support!! it means more to me than you know! <3
please stay safe, and look out for more from me in the future! <3
#juminweek2020#jujuw2020#jujuw20d7#jumin week 2020#juminweek#jumin week#jumin han#han jumin#mysme jumin#mm jumin#mystic messenger#juminxmc#jumin x mc#jumin x reader#juminxreader#my writing#mystic messenger day 7#jumins route#jumins route spoilers#day 7#jumin
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Purple Hearts || { Part 5 } :
Starring- Jinyoung x reader.
Genre- Angst | Non-Idol AU, Disorder AU.
Summary- I will continue to love you for as long as I'm breathing, but I'm won't let my love come in between your happiness.
*GIF not mine, credits to the owner*
Yugyeom didn't come home last night which was actually good, had he been home things could've gone to South, you were beyond vulnerable the previous night and if Yugyeom was to walk in on you then there was a huge possibility of you telling him the entire thing.
You couldn't actually concentrate in your job as the events of yesterday started to play in your brain on loop like some broken record.
"What do I do?", You stared at your laptop blankly lost in your own wandering thoughts.
The call of your name along with a loud clap made you flinch, "Is something bothering you?".
You shook your head slightly with a small smile before getting back to your typing, "I'm fine Youngjae".
"Well....", He trailed off pulling a chair in front of you and sitting, "It doesn't look like you're fine at all....your face is full of.... exhaustion".
He booped your nose, giving you that million dollar laugh which automatically made you giggle.
"See that's the girl I know", He declared pointing his index finger at your lips, "The cutest". The smile not leaving his face even for a second.
Your lips now pressed into a thin line as you stared into his eyes, he seemed to notice the little transition in your facial expressions, "Okay, For real now....where your mind is?".
"What—".
"You're clearly stressed about something, mind telling me what has gotten you this upset?", He asked warmly with genuine concern written all over his face.
"Nothing special, I'm all good", You cleared your throat eyeing the sheets on your desk preventing any sort of eye contact with him. He hummed at your reply, "Then re-typing a draft which was finalized two months ago...is a time pass?".
Frowning at his words you shut your laptop with your head resting on top of it, groaning at your foolishness, "I messed up, I had to type the draft of Mrs. Francis's contract and now I'll have to do it all over again", you sighed heavily.
Youngjae laughed at your little fit, walking over to stand beside you, he crouched down on his knees slowly turning your chair so that you could face him.
"I know I look stupid", You pouted with your entire face now covered with your locks which only made Youngjae smile wider, "I don't think so", he said tucking your locks behind your ears.
"Youngjae...", You mumbled sending him those indescribable looks. He furrowed his eyebrows trying to figure out and that's when it clicked him, shaking his head vigorously he yelled, "No! I won't".
"Mmm....you can't turn me down so mercilessly!", You whined hitting his arm continuously, "Ouch Ouch!....I have so many files to go through and you want me to type that draft after analysing the whole case?", He asked in disbelief.
"Please! Please! I'll do anything you ask me to do", You tried again which made him smirk in return, "Anything...".
_____________
"You've been sulking the whole morning Jinyoung? What's with that face ?", Mrs. Park asked handing Jinyoung his vanilla latte.
Jackson tried to stifle his laughter but failed to do so and started squealing like some college girl, "Aunt that's the interesting part, I thought he would tell you but since his ego is at stake I'll spill on his behalf".
Jinyoung shot him an annoyed glare, but it only made the things two times funnier for Jackson, "So yesterday at your store, instead of sitting in the cabin..Jinyoungie felt like strolling around the store.... briefly looking at the product on the display—".
"Get to the point Jackson...I want to know the reason why my kid is pulling that frown so gracefully", Mrs. Park asked him casually pulling on Jinyoung's cheeks.
"Okay okay...so when he stood near the shelves. Some lady approached him and asked for him about some of the products which he knew nothing about which created a huge fuss in the store", Jackson stated nonchalantly, "And I don't know why he's frowning over such a small thing?".
"I'll throw this over your head!", Jinyoung threatened gesturing towards the drink in his hand.
"That's it?", She asked eyeing Jinyoung.
"No! That lady approached me thinking of me as some salesman! I tried telling her that I'm not one of them but she started to throw tantrums saying that I'm not suitable for the job etcetera....and that I must be fired for mistreating her—.....Gosh! I ain't going there anymore. She was literally hard headed, she didn't even want to hear me or the staffs out", Jinyoung shook his head with an exasperated sigh, "That lady's voice is still ringing in my ear. I mean just look at this handsome face, from which angle do I look like some salesperson?"
"Ouch....that must've hurt you real bad", Mrs. Park teased him followed by a high five from Jackson.
"Eomma! You too!" Jinyoung whined picking up his blazer dashing out of the house in annoyance, "See you later aunt... Jinyoung! Wait!", Jackson greeted before running after his friend.
"Where are you going?", Jackson asked catching up to Jinyoung.
"Nowhere", Jinyoung shrugged off slipping into the driver's seat, "I swear if you're sour about a little joke then that's not reasonab—".
"It's not about that Jack, I have somewhere to go. Go home, I'll see you afterwards...hmm..", Jinyoung cut him with a wide smile.
_____________
Glancing at the clock you heard your stomach grumble, sighing loudly you slammed the file on the glass table in front of you, "Youngjae-ah! It's almost break time let's just grab something to stuff our mouths with!".
"Just....a....minute", He said not sparing you a single look still busy with typing out the said draft, "I'm almost done....".
"You can't finish it that quick! I'm not even done examining the first file", You spoke pacing back and forth in Youngjae's cabin, "You started it like what...let me check, twenty-five minutes ago, Not poss—".
"Done!", Youngjae shouted with a victorious grin cracking his finger bubbles.
"Are you kidding me!", You strode towards him, checking for yourself if he was saying the truth, "Woah! Woah there! I wasn't expecting that but—Okay....How did you..". You were not only shocked to see his pace but also grateful that he saved you from going through a detailed lecture from your boss.
"You literally saved my ass from catching fire!" You clapped your hands.
"Eww...Nasty", He joked swinging his arms around your shoulder, "Come on let's get something to feed you".
You took the elevator to the cafeteria but Youngjae didn't seem to share the same thought as that of yours, as you were about to step out of it he grabbed your wrist pulling you back inside.
"What are you doing?", You asked as the doors closed shut when he pressed the button to the ground floor.
"We're not going to eat in the cafeteria today", He smiled warmly too lost to comprehend his thoughts to notice your hand still in his, "Remember you promised me that you'd do anything I ask you to?".
You nodded maintaining the eyee contact with him, "So I thought of taking you to Burger King". At the very mention of the name made you mouth water, it has been days since you had your last junk food.
The shimmer in your eyes didn't go unnoticed by Youngjae as your lips curved upwards into an excited smile.
That's the smile I've been missing on for weeks, he thought.
"Happy fill?", Youngjae asked as you wiped your mouth with the tissue, "Thanks Jae....the food was lit, hope you keep bringing me to my favourite places".
"Will do that, can't miss the beast consuming everything at once", He laughed trying to piss you off which indeed happened, exiting the place you stuck out your tongue at him running towards your office.
But he ran up to you pulling you towards him by your arms, your hands instictively flying around his shoulders, "You can't leave me like that", he whispered. You stared into his eyes trying to search for something which could explain the things he has been doing.
Jinyoung drove to your office with a bright smile, he was desperate to see you, to talk to you, to tell you how much he missed you in these past weeks. Getting out of his car, he stood glued to the ground watching the scenario in front of him.
There you were standing in front of your office's entrance wrapped in the arms of some other man, not only was the man holding onto your waist but seeing your arms around his shoulders while you both stared into each other's eyes, had something snapping inside of Jinyoung, his gaze darkened the longer he continued to stare at you and Youngjae, involuntarily he clenched his fists turning his knuckles white.
Part 4 | Masterlist |
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[A/N :- Hey there lovelies! I hope you enjoy reading this part, I've been writing this for a month now after erasing the chapter again and again, and finally settled for this one! And once again thank you for reading!]
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#got7 imagines#got7 jinyoung#got7 x reader#jinyoung imagines#got7 angst#got7 bambam#got7 jackson#got7 jaebeom#got7 mark#got7 youngjae#got7 yugyeom#jinyoung x reader#jinyoung x you#jinyoung fanfic#jinyoung angst
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Let’s talk about Kururu, again
Apparently the fandom is growing all of a sudden so I feel like talking about Kururu again cuz that’s all I know how to do and it’s been a while
First off disclaimer that fandom is fandom and anybody can interpret any character any way they want and if you like to portray a character a certain way for whatever reason go for it, more power to you (unless you put them in pedo/incest relationships that are displayed as good in which case fuck you). But in my personal Kirbpinion(TM) the Funimation dub was a fucking mistake because so many fan content creators write a way different Kururu than what he is in canon cuz the dub never got to his best episodes and also upped the sadism to ridiculous levels. Listen I know it’s funny to joke that he’s the kind of guy that has 3 medieval torture chambers but hear me out. Kururu is by no means a perfect person, he’s genuinely pretty rude/blunt (though sometimes his straightforwardness is justified :P), has an ego, sometimes acts pretty gross around others and likes extreme and elaborate pranks way way way too much BUT.
Assuming you’ve watched far enough into the series (like 100+ eps) I do not really understand the interpretation that he doesn’t care about anyone and that friendship and love are things he is totally incapable of. He says that yes but if you pay enough attention to his dialogue it becomes pretty apparent that he displays this attitude for multiple reasons. One is that he does genuinely have a hard time expressing the emotions he feels and often has awkward/guarded ways of doing so. But also he says many times over the course of the series that he has a “reputation” to keep up and wants people to call him a jerk; he wants to look cool and rebellious all the time and he thinks a nasty apathetic attitude is what earns him that status (not claiming that’s a healthy mindset, mind you). He wants to have full control over the way people see him and he gets super frustrated and humiliated when he can’t. This is probably why he gets so upset when people talk about how unpopular he is, because he’s spent so much time honing his image to a T and is like why the fuck isn’t this working?! In other words even though sometimes he is just an actual pain in the neck a lot of his asshole antics are part of a carefully manufactured persona, and he will do anything down to labeling his own memories to prevent other people from seeing through his facade and discovering the parts of him that are vulnerable.
And God forbid anyone does figure out that he does care quite a bit for the people around him, or at least if he didn’t at first he does now. Early on in the series he was commonly referred to as “depressing” and while the meta reason is probably just the anime writers just didn’t know how to adapt the character yet (he started out a little differently in the manga), in canon I believe he was just even more inclined to push everybody away from him, and as he began to get used to working in a group he gradually opened up. He commentates on how “soft” he’s gotten since he came to Earth a couple times, and the fact that he’s surprisingly one of the most loyal to Keroro out of the whole team (in many episodes where everyone abandons Keroro for being dumb he leaves last) and goes out of his way to help when he thinks it’s warranted (he asks for money when things aren’t dire yeah but hey labor deserves compensation :V) shows that he is dedicated to his team. There’s even episodes where he doles out some kind of moral lesson to the squad in his own Kururu-y way, especially to Keroro and Tamama. Even the Hinatas he’ll pitch in to protect when he has to, and we all know he’ll pretty much drop everything if Saburo needs him.
Speaking of which. I think the unspoken reason why he’s best friends with Saburo (besides the surface-level stuff like they’re smart and nerdy and seen as enigmas by everybody else) is because Saburo is the only other person in the cast who understands Kururu’s particular struggle of putting on airs as a means of self-defense all the time. He basically has a carefully managed celebrity life (that he has to constantly work to hide in anime canon), a somewhat formal/reserved public life, and the more quirky enthusiastic side of himself he only shows when alone and to the few people he’s close to and god damn that just sounds like the most exhausting juggling act ever. He has an outlet to free himself through his art but he still has to live with nobody quite knowing what he goes through on a daily basis, which is probably why we see him off on his own for most of the series (until he gets to warm up to everybody better...wonder who that sounds like) and occasionally have his bouts of frustration and insecurity like in 229 where he says “fuck it I’m gonna fight the apocalypse alone because I need something to do,” 354(? I think that’s the number) where he talks about just dropping everything and starting over, and I think one of the Christmas eps where Giroro has to like beg him to go to the Hinatas’ party cuz he says he’s “busy” even though he’s just sitting around pretty much (UPDATE: it’s 294 the implication is probably that he has his show or something but cmon that’s only like an hour lol). I am going off on a tangent now but anyway the point is he and Kururu are the most complicated communicators of the cast and they share feelings only they understand which is why they can more or less read each other’s minds and know exactly what to do when the other is in trouble.
Back to Kururu. Keroro, from what I can tell, is the closest to him out of the Platoon; Keroro gets freaked out by Kururu’s pranks sometimes yeah but they have a lot of common interests as the fun-lovers of the group and Kururu’s also kinda been interested in Keroro enough time follow him around for almost his entire life up to this point so there’s that. He also gets along with the other people he‘s around; we know he and Aki get along from the beginning because of how dynamic their personalities are but later on he gets close to Fuyuki to the point where they just hang out for the heck of it sometimes, and even though Natsumi is very justified in generally disliking him (many of Kururu’s more Eugh moments tend to involve her) even she seems to rely on him often, and in the cursed puppy episode she knows all his favorite foods by heart so she must care in some fashion lol. Dororo and he aren’t evidently super close but I think they get each other on some level as the (in-universe) least popular of the platoon and Dororo at least respects his abilities, and has clearly come to figure out his subtleties based on 229. Giroro and Mois...things get complicated. Just putting on record that I’m not a fan of either ship between Kururu and them. I’ve said this before but I think Giroro and Kururu are in a turbulent sibling-adjacent relationship in that they have completely opposing attitudes but they have a begrudging sense of respect for each other and, ultimately, they’re teammates, so they’ll defend each other when someone they don’t know tries to mess with them. I really don’t think the flirty stuff on Kururu’s end goes beyond teasing and I got kinda sick of that running gag if I’m being honest. (You can probably tell which frog I ship Kururu with by now :P) Mois went from something of a rival to Kururu to his lab partner, which is probably why he goes easier on her than he used to and even strikes up something of a friendship because the only other person he knows that might be capable of handling his technology is an Earthling who’s still against the invasion despite his lax attitude so. She helps :V
Now the question is why Kururu acts like he does if his relationships really aren’t all that bad and I think there’s two components to this. I’ve made it clear by now I think he’s autistic but your mileage may vary there. I think personally his childhood did something to the way he processes things as well. In Secret of the Kero Ball, he’s got a bandage on his head which may imply he got hurt somewhere and then he almost drowned which canonically definitely did something to him lol, was mostly seen alone so who knows if he has a family he still talks to, and then he got drafted into the army and placed into a high-ranking position of great responsibility at a very young age; it’s kind of a no-brainer why he rebeled and got demoted eventually. I’ve got plenty of headcanons about what his early days in the Military did to him but that’s for another day because good God this post went on too long.
In short: Kururu is possibly the most complicated character in the show and the F in Flanderization stands for “Funimation.” That’s it I’m never writing another essay about pee-color frog again I will make real content again at some point I promise
#keroro gunso#sgt frog#kururu#kululu#long post#i sure spent 2 hours on this#imo kururu is a more compelling tsundere than giroro there I said it
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Out Of Character Questions
ROLEPLAYER GET TO KNOW YOU PROMPT
Tagged by: @hedonistschambers
Tagging: @ask-skeksa-the-mariner, @allpowerfulemperor, @asktheornamentalist, @askurva-thearcher, and anyone else who wants to :)
OOC About Your Character(s)
1. What do you want to get out of playing this character(s)?
I used to RP on Tumblr a lot in the Megamind fandom, and seeing other Dark Crystal RPers on here made me want to try getting back into RP a little. Since I don’t have any Dark Crystal OCs who lend themselves well to RP, I decided to go with a canon character, and skekZok was a prominent one who hadn’t gotten a blog yet. I’ve always liked looking at characters and thinking about what makes them tick, so this gives me a fun chance to do that for him.
2. Describe your character(s) with three words.
Cultured | Sadistic | Hypocritical
3. What made you decide to write this muse?
I’d been following the blogs of a few other Skeksis RPers, and the absence of Zok had been remarked on. Since he’s one of my favorites, I decided to make a blog for him and join in the fun.
4. If you could change one event in your muse’s life (in their main or canon verse), what would you change?
That’s a tough one, because Zok really doesn’t suffer that much in canon compared to other characters. I might stop ZokZah from trying to burn out part of his soul, but skekZok wouldn’t exist and there wouldn’t be much of a story if I did that. (If we include the JM Lee novels, I’d change it so he doesn’t throw skekSa under the bus.)
5. If you could tell your muse one thing, what would you tell them?
“Don’t stab the blonde Gelfling girl. It won’t prevent the prophecy, and she’ll just come back to life anyway.”
6. If you could give your muse one gift, what would you give them?
I’d love to see his reaction to a Swiss Army knife.
7. If you had to take one positive thing away from your muse, what would you take away?
I’m not sure how positive this is, but I’d take away his ability to believe his own lies. It would be interesting to see how he tries to juggle all the conflicting rules and stories he’s come up with over the centuries.
8. If you could “borrow” one aspect of your muse and apply it to yourself or your own life, what would you borrow?
His talent for speaking in public. I wish I could command an audience like he does.
9. Do you genuinely want your muse to be happy? What do you think would make them most happy in life?
Considering the kind of things that tend to make Zok happy? Maybe. As for what would make him happiest, he believes it would be achieving immortality and remaining one of the highest-ranked of the court and having skekSa as his permanent mate, but that still won’t heal the spiritual emptiness inside him. Much as I enjoy Zok and Zah as separate beings, I do think reunification was the best thing for them. If he and SaSan could have been together after that, that would have been even better.
10. Do you enjoy putting your muse through angst? What do you think would break their heart the most?
I don’t mind angst in small doses, as long as I plot it out with the other player(s) beforehand and we agree how it will turn out in the end. Zok doesn’t lend himself easily to angst, but losing his place in the court hierarchy or having one of his allies turn on him would do it. He’s also come to genuinely believe the mythology he’s invented over the centuries -- anything that seriously challenged that worldview would be hard for him to deal with.
11. What do you love about your muse?
A lot of things. His charisma, his striking blue eyes, the way his voice is deeper and smoother than most of the other Skeksis, how over-the-top his gold outfit is, how he’s so attached to his headdress that he doesn’t even take it off in the spa, how unrepentantly creepy and sadistic he is -- he’s a very enjoyable character, even if he is a horrible birb.
12. What do you hate about your muse?
He's not an easy character to have interact with everyone. He can pretend to be nice when it suits him, and he’s not totally incapable of caring about people, but he’s still nasty enough that I can tell in advance a lot of interactions wouldn’t go well.
13. What about your muse amuses you?
The contrast between the austere image he tries to keep up, and how frazzled he gets when something upsets that image (”MY CARRIAGE!”). Also when he gets sarcastic or looks down on the others when they act in a less-than-civilized way.
14. What about your muse makes you sad?
All the people he’s hurt, and how unwilling he is to see that his way of life isn’t sustainable and won’t truly make him happy in the end.
15. How would you describe your muse to someone about to meet them, in person, for the first time?
“This guy is a creep, but he believes in good manners. Tread lightly, and you should be okay.”
16. Would you like your muse as a person if you met them in real life?
LOL no. He’s an awful person who is best left in the realm of fiction.
17. In what ways are you better than your muse? In what ways are they better than you?
I like to think I’m a much nicer person than he is. I can be blunt and a bit of a troll sometimes, but I really don’t like hurting anyone, or trying to force people to do stuff they don’t like. As for Zok, he’s much more confident and well-spoken than I am, and he’s had the determination to stick with one job for a thousand years.
18. Why do you think you connect to your muse?
We’re both interested in culture, myth, and history, and feel better when we can assign some order to the world around us.
19. What aspect of your muse’s personality is most important to you? What aspect of your muse’s personality do you think is most important to them? Is it the same? Why or why not?
As I see it, the core of Zok’s character is that he wants to bring order to the world; that’s why his job title is ‘Ritual Master’ rather than ‘High Priest’ or something more overtly religious. If he can’t see an obvious reason why things are the way they are, he’ll invent one that makes sense to him (and serves his needs).
I think this is what Zok sees as his most important trait too -- in his mind, he took a bunch of feral newborn creatures who (by all rights) were never meant to have existed in the first place, and helped turn them into a civilized, godlike people who rule an entire planet. But that feral nature is always under the surface, and they still need ritual and order (and yes, punishment) to keep it in check.
20. Has your character(s) changed over the time that you have been playing them? How have they changed?
I haven’t been playing Zok for very long, but I’ve recently had a chance to write how he feels about deeper questions, like what it would mean for Skeksis to have children, and what happens to Skeksis and urRu souls after they die. I think it’s made him a bit more three-dimensional.
About You!
1. What is your name?
Kate, a.k.a. Crow or Lady Stormcrow
2. What is your profession?
Social worker, currently working in substance abuse treatment.
3. What do you do to relax?
Watch favorite TV shows, play video games, listen to music, hang out outdoors, chat online.
4. What is your favorite treat (desert)?
I have a big weakness for flan and other custard desserts. Also caramel.
5. Favorite movie
Amadeus (1984).
6. Favorite book
Good Omens (and yes I loved the series too).
7. Favorite vacation spot
Grand Cayman. We were supposed to visit again this spring, but COVID happened.
8. Favorite Disney movie
I’m not sure I have one favorite, but I love Fantasia and The Rescuers.
9. How did you first get into role playing?
Almost 20 years ago, lol. When I first started going online in high school, I made an online friend ( @ksclaw ) who introduced me to the concept. We played interactions with our SWAT Kats fan characters, and she helped me get the hang of it.
10. What was your first platform? If it was something other than Tumblr, what made you get into Tumblr?
It was Livejournal. I discovered Tumblr in late 2011 after my friends in the Megamind fandom introduced me to it, and most of us migrated here from our old LJ community. I loved being able to reblog whatever struck my fancy, and while my interest has waxed and waned, as you can see I’m still here.
11. What’s a grammar rule you find yourself breaking or ignoring a lot?
I like to think I have pretty good grammar. I know I’m guilty of run-on sentences, though, and I overuse ellipses and mix up ; and -- far too much.
12. Are there any languages besides English in which you think you could comfortably roleplay?
Not really. I can speak and understand a little Spanish and French, but not enough to write anything meaningful, and I’m wary of translation software for anything beyond a short sentence. Sorry!
13. Do you listen to music while your write?
Sometimes. Usually not when I’m doing the actual writing (that’s distracting, and I like to hear the words in my head), but I’ll listen to it beforehand to get myself in a mood or get some inspiration.
14. Are you a morning, day, evening, or night writer?
Late morning after I’ve had my coffee is usually my best time. Unfortunately I’m usually at work during that time, but on slow days and weekends I try to take advantage of it.
15. How does tiredness affect your writing?
It turns me into a zombie who can dream but cannot actually write.
16. What is your biggest obstacle to writing every day, if time doesn’t count?
Lack of motivation. I daydream and imagine stuff easily enough, but putting it down into writing is much harder, especially when I’m braindead from work.
17. How many drafts is a paralyzing amount?
More than 5 is daunting, though fortunately Zok hasn’t gotten that many yet.
18. Is there anything character-wise or writing style-wise that you can’t stand?
Players who are unwilling to have their characters be in the wrong, or who get upset if my character doesn’t react the way they wanted. Not all interactions are going to be smooth and happy, and I’m fine with that. Your character is not you, just like mine is not me.
19. What kind of anonymous questions are your favorite?
Weird ones. I like having my muses react to them.
20. What is your weakest point in writing? Angst, fluff, dialogue, etc.?
Fluff is kind of tricky. I don’t have trouble imagining it, but I get paralyzed thinking “this is too indulgent, I shouldn’t publish it, no one but me will like it, etc.” Maybe that’s part of why Zok appeals to me, because he’s not the fluffy type.
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Lilo (Jim Mason x fem!reader)
Word Count: 4.4k
Warnings: sub!Jim, fem!reader, angst city baby (this is sad as fuck I'm sorry I had to do it to em), mentions of drug use, smut, tummy riding, cockwarming, fluff (I suppose), the timeline for TTOPV is slightly off in this but it’s not too far gone
A/N: Oop sorry I haven’t posted in a hot minute, but I’m back! This has been in my drafts since like....three weeks after I started this blog, I just never got around to finishing it until now. Loosely inspired by Lilo by The Japanese House! I love this song so much, and it reminded me of Jim for some reason??? Anyways, here ya go! As always, let me know what you think! Send any requests or comments my way.
The vibrations of her cell phone rattling against the nightstand broke her concentration away from her laptop. She’d spent the hot, summer evening indoors picking out curtains and area rugs that would match the bedspread of her new apartment. After deciding she’d procrastinated long enough, she forced herself to hunker down and finalize any last minute details before she transferred universities and moved away from Palos Verdes.
A photo of her boyfriend illuminated her phone’s screen. It was one of her favorites: his mouth hung open and head thrown back in the middle of a laugh, nose scrunched, eyes closed and crinkled at the corners. She could recall the origin of the photo vividly. The two of them had made a day trip down the coast to a beach where he swore the waves were better, but she couldn’t tell a difference. In the exact moment that she’d raised her camera, a seagull swooped down and snatched her sunglasses right off of her head, sending him into a contagious giggle fit. She missed that smile. It was genuine and loving, and not something she saw very often these days. He seemed like he’d been holding his breath lately; like something was bothering him, but he wasn’t ready to talk about it just yet.
A deep sigh left her body as she pressed the phone to her ear.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Y/N.” He already sounded upset. She could hear his heavy breathing through the speaker and the slamming of a door in the background. A stirring feeling rose in her stomach at the thought of what the reasoning was behind his phone call.
“Hi, Jim.” She didn’t want to set him off, which had been happening a lot recently. The fights with his mother had been occurring what seemed like every day now, withering his patience down to the point of nonexistence. Either that or he had gotten into it with one of the boys down by the beach; they always managed to get him fired up in a hurry.
“Are your parents home?”
“No, they left this morning to help my grandparents move. Why? You want to come over?”
He was quiet for a moment. The sounds of his shallow breaths being the only noise in the otherwise awkward silence.
“Uh...yeah. Can I actually stay over? I miss you.” His voice grew softer as he spoke, as if he felt bad for even asking. He slept over frequently, and he knew he didn’t have to ask before stopping by. The ‘I miss you’ at the end was just out of habit, she knew that wasn’t the reason. If she had to guess, it was Sandy. She always managed to send him over the edge. It tore her up inside to picture the heartbroken look on his face every time she hurled insult after insult at him.
“Of course. I’m in my room. The key’s in the flower pot, just let yourself in.”
“Yeah, okay,” he paused before he spoke again. “I’ll be over soon... Love you.”
“Love you too, Jimmy.” She locked her phone before tossing it across the comforter and flopping down on the bed on her back.
This wasn’t how she’d planned to spend her evening. She was hoping to finish the night off with a bubble bath and a face mask, not keeping Jim company while he sobbed into her chest. It wasn’t that he annoyed her, that was quite the opposite. She was transferring universities after having been accepted into a research program in her field of interest. But leaving town and moving out of her parent’s house also meant that she’d be leaving Jim behind when she went.
She’d tried to convince him so many times to come with her, to get out of Palos Verdes and away from the toxicity of his fucked up family. He always insisted that he didn’t have a choice, that he had to stay here. Despite how cruel his mother could be towards him, he fully believed that she wouldn’t make it without him and that Medina would be left to endure her wrath if he left. Leaving Jim, as inevitable as it was, was the last thing she wanted to think about. She’d kept it on the back-burner of her brain for as long as she could manage. Having him there, in her room, would make all of those feelings resurface and allow panic to take over.
When Jim didn’t show after half an hour, she began to worry. She’d assumed when he called and she heard the door slam that it meant he’d be right over, but there was still no sign of him. This only further provoked the dark thoughts that lurked within her. She’d never confronted him about it, but she knew he had a problem with pills. At first, she’d only ever seen him take them at parties. Assuming mixed with alcohol it made for a more fun high, she didn’t think anything of it. He was giggly and touchy and chatty, and she didn’t mind. It was how she’d met him in the first place. Her friend introduced her to him at one of her famous beach bashes the same week Jim first moved to Palos Verdes, where party drugs were in abundance. ‘You’ll love him!’ she drunkenly exclaimed that hot, muggy night. Boy, was she right.
She first began to notice little changes in his behavior when shit hit the fan with his parents. He was impatient, agitated all of the time. His eyes were always slightly glassy, his jaw always rigid. Even if it was just the two of them watching a movie in his room, he’d always be slightly sticky, a thin veil of sweat covering the curves and ridges of his soft skin. She’d seen him like this plenty of times, but never in a casual setting. He’d brush off any remarks of hers, insisting that she need not worry.
The fallout between his parents had taken a huge toll on him, he had to replace his father and coddle his mother day and night. He’d spent plenty of nights curled into a ball in her lap while she ran her fingers through his hair. She was never sure of exactly what to say to him to make him feel better, so she settled on just being there for him, which he never seemed to mind. Jim typically opened up when he was ready to talk, so she stayed quiet even though watching him self-destruct was eating away at her soul.
Another hour went by, and still no Jim. She figured he’d run off with the boys from the beach doing god knows what, or maybe he just forgot. Trying not to let her mind jump to conclusions, she figured it was best to just go to sleep. Hopefully, he’d show up later.
-
The sound of her bedroom door creaking open pulled her out of her light sleep. Opening one eye, she peeked over her shoulder to see Jim tip-toeing his way into her room, a failed attempt at trying not to wake her. He didn’t say anything when he caught her staring as he shrugged off his clothes, stripping down to just his boxers that only recently started to hang loosely from his hips. He only gave her a brief smile, one that she could barely make out in the darkness of her room.
“Hey, you. What took you so long? I was starting to think you forgot about me.” she asked him as she shifted your position on the bed, lifting her comforter and inviting him into the warmth of the blanket. Jim immediately wrapped his arms around her, tangling his legs into hers. He nuzzled his nose into her neck, “Just like a little puppy,” she’d always teased. He let out what seemed to be a sigh of relief before speaking.
“Same old shit. I tried to leave, and my mom stopped me. Screaming fit. Had to wait before her meds to knock her out before I snuck out the window.” His voice was slightly hoarse, signifying he'd been crying as much he had apparently been yelling. It wasn’t until she pulled her head away from Jim’s chest to look at his face that she saw the wetness on his cheeks. It glimmered in the moonlight that peaked through her window like crystal.
She took his head in both of her hands, gently rubbing his tears away with the pads of her thumbs. He peered at her with swollen eyes as he brushed the tips of his fingers up and down her bare sides, exposed from where her T-shirt had ridden up in bed. For a brief moment, they were both just staring at each other. Not saying anything. Not moving. Secretly, she was scanning his face for any indication that he was high. He didn’t seem to be, which made her exhale deeply and give him a sympathetic smile. She figured it was now or never, she had to pry and make him open up to her. He can’t keep doing this to himself, and she couldn’t leave Palos Verdes without knowing Jim would be okay without her.
Just as she parted her lips to speak, Jim closed her mouth off with his. It was as if he knew exactly what she was going to say and he wanted to stop her in her tracks. She felt him shakily exhale into her mouth as she snaked her arms around his neck, finally feeling at ease in her embrace after being on edge all night. Without giving her time to react, he deepened the kiss, pulling tougher on her lips and gripping his hands around her waist. She moaned softly into his mouth as he continued to feel her up, sliding one hand into the back of her panties to rest flat against the skin of her ass and keeping the other wrapped tightly around her waist. She wanted to resist him, to make him talk to her, but it was clear that he wasn’t going to comply.
He removed his hand from her underwear with a snap of the waistband, then wrapped his arm around the back of her thigh to pull her on top of him. Once she was fully straddled across Jim’s waist, she pulled back to look at him. Fresh tears were falling from his ocean colored eyes. He was quick to catch them, to rub at his face with one of his hands to disperse the running droplets from his cheeks, but she was quicker. She reached out and took his hands in hers, forcing him to look her in the eyes.
“Talk to me, Jim,” she muttered in all but a whisper, “What’s wrong?”
He tried to look away from her. At the ceiling. At her tv. At her bedroom door. He didn’t say anything, he didn’t have to. His eyes were pleading. Don’t do this, they exerted.
With his hands still interlocked with hers, he held them close to his chest, the familiar thumping of Jim’s heartbeat pulsing through her fingertips as he spoke.
“Nothing’s wrong. I just...need you.”
Sighing in defeat, she got the hint. Now wasn’t the time. He was lying through his teeth, but she felt he might crumble beneath her if she pried too hard.
She leaned down slowly, pecking small kisses along his jaw.
“What do you need from me?” she baited, teasing him in a way. She knew exactly what he needed her to do, she just wanted him to say it.
Jim ran his hands from the small of her back down to her ass, softly pushing her against him. The course lace of her panties rubbing so closely near his crotch sent blood rushing to his cock, hardening with each roll of her hips. She sighed heavily, savoring the desperation in his movements. He moved her slowly, but it was just the way he liked it. The way he liked her. Slow and sweet.
“Need to be inside of you,” he mustered in between manual, deep breaths. His chest still felt heavy from crying only hours ago, exhaustion threatening to take over. It was taking everything in him not to collapse, to shatter like a fragile house of cards. He needed something, anything to distract him from the swelling of emotions in his own brain.
Nodding slightly, almost unrecognizably, she leaned down once more to pepper tight, close-mouthed kisses starting from the beauty mark on his upper lip down to the hollow of his throat. Her kisses grew sloppier, wetter as she worked her way down, making sure to pay extra attention to his sweet spot that she knew so well.
She set her own rhythm now, not relying on Jim’s hands to work her up and down the curves of his tummy. Pressing herself harder against him than before, she felt a damp spot pooling in her panties near her core. His breath caught in his throat with every rut of her hips. She could feel the slight tremor in his movements as he involuntarily jutted upwards into nothing. He was desperate to feel any kind of friction against his cock, and she was enjoying every second of it.
There was no way for her to explain how wet she was at this moment. It was almost sadistic, she thought. Here Jim was, clearly and visibly upset at something, and she was getting a rise out of his vulnerability, depriving him of the one thing she knew could calm him down. A vulnerability that only she had the privilege of seeing.
To others, Jim Mason was a hardass, the life of the party, the one that was always “down for whatever.” He was never one to come across as hopeless or as someone that was even slightly unhappy. It was a side effect of living in Palos Verdes, he had once told her. Everyone puts up a front and carries themselves in a demeanor that implies that their lives are peachy-fucking-keen when they all knew that couldn’t be further from the truth.
The Jim Mason she knew, the one that was lying beneath her right now, was weak. His home life was a fucking disaster. He walked into a different shit show every night and often had no recollection of what he’d even eaten for breakfast because of the pills he jammed down his throat like candy, or if he’d even eaten at all. It wasn’t his fault, not entirely anyway. There was no stability, no person to anchor him down and keep him from completely losing himself. Except her. He loved Medina with all his heart, but he knew that his sister was growing tired of him, of his bullshit. Just like everyone else in Palos Verdes. She was the only one that offered him any kind of tranquility and control in his life, and she knew it.
Maybe that was it. Maybe it was the fact that she knew she was the only person that truly held any kind of power over Jim, the only one that he’d allowed, and that’s what had her core pulsing beneath her, matching her racing heartbeat that she felt in her ears. Knowing what Jim was like when the curtains fell. Knowing just now needy he really was, how badly he needed someone to control him in order to feel whole.
Or maybe she was mad at him, and this was her passive-aggressive way of telling him to fuck off. This wasn’t the first and certainly wouldn’t be the last time that Jim would tip-toe around talking to her about his feelings. She fucking hated it. She loved him so much, and he loved her just the same. She didn’t understand why he was always making bullshit excuses about what made him upset or why he would have random outbursts of rage when he could have handled the situation in a much healthier way by simply talking to her. Especially when they both knew she’d be gone by the end of the summer. There would be no one to take care of him, at least not in the way she did, and it drove her mad that he closed himself off from her right before she left. She knew it was hypocritical, to be mad at him for not conveying his emotions properly and doing the same exact thing in return by not bringing this up to him. But holding the reins over Jim, in some fucked up way, made her feel like she could punish him for it.
She decided it was a little bit of both. Or something else entirely.
It felt all too delicious, the way she was grinding against his tanned torso, leaning back to brace herself against the meat of his thighs. Her panties were pushed aside now, folds gliding effortlessly back and forth, coating Jim’s stomach in a thin layer of her wetness. She felt his cock brush against her backside each time she pushed back; he was hard as a rock and undoubtedly throbbing as she made sure to occasionally glide herself over him just partially, enough to elicit something between a groan and a moan from the depths of Jim’s chest.
She’d lost track of time, too focused on the way Jim’s eyelashes were fluttering like the wings of a butterfly, still coated with the remnants of his tears. He was beautiful as he panted beneath her, small whines leaving his lips as he grew more desperate for relief against his aching erection.
He pulled her back down to his level by her hair with a roughness that he only ever used on her when he really, really needed her.
“Please, Y/N,” he begged.
She looked at him for a moment before responding with whatever smartass comment she’d use to taunt him even more like she always did. He looked so exhausted. His cheekbones were hollowed out, less full than they had been just shy of a year ago when they graduated high school. His eyes, while she hadn’t noticed before, were hollow, the sockets sunken in and noticeable even in the sliver of light that came from her window. He was sad. There was no other way to put it. He was withering away, and she’d been passive and allowed it to happen.
All of her anger she’d been convinced was driving her seized. She had to fix him, she told herself. She had to make sure he was going to make it without her in Palos Verdes because she had a feeling the odds weren’t that high if he kept doing whatever he was doing when he was away from her.
She ran her fingers through his thick, brown waves, gritty-feeling in between her digits from the sea salt that permanently lingered in the air. Her lips met his softly, just barely massaging them with her tongue.
“It’s okay. I’ve got you Jimmy,” her own voice trembled this time.
Sliding off of her position on his stomach, she began to pump Jim’s length with her hand. She could see the sticky trail of her cum that she left behind on his tummy as she moved over to straddle his legs. His breath hitched in his throat as she gripped him in her small hands, finally feeling a sliver of the high he’d been chasing all night. He bucked himself into her as she twisted her wrist slightly while she worked him.
“God, Y/N,” Jim whined, his eyes rolling back into his head.
She could tell he wasn’t going to last long, he never did when he acted like this - when he slipped into this headspace that rendered him absolutely useless and vulnerable. Her eyes locked with his as she released him from her hands, a gasp floated from his lips at the lack of stimulation. She braced her hands on his broad chest, lifting herself to hover just above his waist. He gripped her forearms in his large hands, steadying both her and himself.
She lifted her oversized t-shirt that was pooling around her knees just enough to push her panties to the side and guide Jim’s cock to her core. His tip ran along her folds as she maneuvered him into her, swirling around in her wetness to prepare for the stretch.
Slowly, like the creeping tide of the ocean, she inched her way down onto him. He was impossibly big; it felt like the first time for her every time. The sensation of Jim’s cock impaling her almost causing her to cry out, but she didn’t. When she was fully seated inside of him, she let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding.
Taking his hands in hers once more, she began to roll her hips against his. The burn was all-consuming, she was unable to concentrate on anything apart from the heat radiating from her abdomen. Jim’s mouth hung open beneath her, forming a perfect “o”-shape with his glistening, spit-covered lips. He held onto her hands tightly as she picked up her speed, as if she was the buoy keeping him afloat.
For a while, the sounds of heavy panting and the wet squelching of Jim’s cock rutting in and out of her pulsing cunt were the only noises that filled the confines of the baby pink walls of her room at her parent’s house. She began to feel the familiar pull in her tummy and began chasing after it like a surfer chasing a wave, paddling faster and faster until she met the swell. She moved her hands to the rails of the headboard she’d had since she was 11, the posts occasionally knocking against the drywall with a bang.
Jim began to lose himself, temporarily forgetting the insanity of his life and fixated himself solely on the girl on top of him.
“Baby,” he panted in between her now relentless thrusts and moans, “I’m. Close.”
“Me too. Wait for me,” she commanded, gripping tighter on the headboard to move her hips more quickly into his throbbing cock.
She’d be surprised if she didn’t have bruises on her thighs tomorrow by how hard Jim was holding onto her; a symbol of how close he was, and how he was using all of his strength to wait for her and not give in to the release that he was right on the brink of falling into.
Snaking her hand under her large t-shirt once more, her fingers found her clit. She began rubbing harsh, sloppy circles around the swollen bundle of nerves, knowing good and well she didn’t have long before Jim fell apart. She closed her eyes, trying to focus on Jim’s cock and how it felt to be the only one that made him crumble like he was right now. Just as she felt she was making progress, Jim let out a prolonged grunt that made her stop in her tracks.
If it was possible, Jim squeezed her thighs even tighter as his release washed over him in waves, his hips sputtering beneath her. She felt the warmth of his seed coat her inner walls, then small strings running back out onto her inner thighs and Jim’s balls. He tensed up immediately, his face flushing red with embarrassment.
“Y/N, I’m so sorry I-”
“Shhh, it’s okay,” she reassured him, laying flat against his chest.
She cooed Jim in his ear, petting the damp hair that stuck to his forehead and pressing gentle kisses along his neck. He wrapped his arms around her waist, molding her body into his. All the while he was still inside of her. She could feel him softening after each passing second, but she didn’t bother slipping him out of her. Something inside her wanted him as close to her as possible, so she stayed put.
There was no telling how long they’d laid there. Jim’s heartbeat had steadied by now, she no longer felt the thumping next to her ear. He was still holding her, twisting strands of her hair in between his fingers. It was a nervous habit of his, one that he was never able to shake.
“Thank you,” he spoke up, just barely above a whisper, bursting the bubble of silence that had encased them.
“For what? That?”
“For being patient.”
She paused, her brain recollecting what he meant. She wished it was patience, but she knew that it wasn’t. She was scared, and that’s why she could never bring herself to make Jim talk. He was putty in her hands, it would have been easy to force him to open up, but she never did it. She couldn’t admit that she felt like she was abandoning him, just like everyone else in his life. No one was making her leave Palos Verdes and transfer to a new university, she wanted to. There was nothing in this washed up, artificial town for her anymore. Nothing besides Jim. But he wouldn’t come with her, they’d already had that argument, and she knew she’d get nowhere in her career staying in a city where looks supersede anything with real value. She was terrified that what she perceived as a selfish action would be the downfall of the boy she loved the most, there was nothing “patient” about it.
“I love you, Jim Mason. So fucking much,” she whispered, her fingers dancing around the dips of his collarbones.
“Love you too,” he answered. There was a sniffle in his voice, meaning fresh tears had fallen from his eyes, once blue as the ocean, now dark like a cloudy sky.
“We’re gonna have to talk about it soon, though. You know that, right?”
She knew what he thought she meant, that they needed to talk about his anger or his drug problem or that she was going to try to convince him to move away with her again, but only she knew what she really meant. She needed to know how he was going to survive without her.
“I know.” he shakily exhaled.
Exhausted, both physically and mentally, she reached out beside her to grab the comforter that had been strewn aside long ago. Covering herself and Jim in the feathery down of the duvet, she relaxed once more into his warm chest. She didn’t have many nights left with Jim, and she was dreading the last time she’d be able to fall asleep and wake up next to him.
~
Tagging:
@avesatanormalpeoplescareme @sloppy-little-witch-bitch26 @venusxxlangdon @aveiangdon @belusima @ccodyfern @readsalot73 @americanhorrorstudies @wroteclassicaly @gold-dragon-slayer@langdonsdemon @langdonshell @1-800-bitchcraft
#jim mason x reader#jim mason smut#jim mason#michael langdon x reader#duncan shepherd x reader#my writing#this was gonna go in like 10 different directions and i feel like you can definitely tell#oopsies!!!!!!!!!!!!
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WicDiv Thoughts, some overly personal
stiiiiiillllll can’t really put together my feelings about the end and epilogue. I will say that I liked the ending and epilogue more than I expected to*, and the longer I sit on it, I find more things to like about it.
(* Except for everything about Baal and Mini)
That said, there’s still that huge, unpleasant gap between what I wanted/expected this comic was supposed to be, and what it actually intended/was. I wrote this post after 43 (the “everyone does the thing” chapter), using bits of a half-written reaction to 39 ("Laura did the thing” chapter) to talk about that gap. I decided to sit on it til everything was said and done Just In Case, but I mostly still agree with what I’d written.
So Here Are My Thoughts
The full pantheon abdicating! This is basically where I expected us to go. Since 39 it seems like the natural place for the story to be headed. Laura’s revelations, along with the Daddy Forgive Us special made it clear that the only way out of the game was not to play it. I was kinda luke warm on that concept, but it made sense for where the story was at that point. I was waiting to see how it actually played out before getting fussy about it.
I give him a C for execution here. Maybe a C+.
I thought Dio’s moment was great. Jon’s was beautiful. Inanna’s I definitely could have gotten behind if he’d actually gotten to have any of that arc on the page instead of getting put on a bus 30 chapters ago.
The rest range from “meh” to “yikes.”
I could have liked this, I wanted to like this. Given how much “OKAY” has been miles more thoughtful than Mothering Invention, I was genuinely hoping to like this. I would have loved to see these kids find something more important than godhood to live for. But that’s not what we got.
We did get them realizing that being a god is not worth dying for. Which is good! And essential! And basically the central conceit of this comic!
But.
But...
I really wanted to see our cast value their lives period. And while there was some of that, there was far more of seeing them be humbled. We saw them beaten down until they had no choice but to admit they Were Not Special (or at least, were not as special as they thought). I was hoping for them to find a capacity to value their lives because their lives have value whether or not they are special, but instead it was a story about being humbled, and I guess to me, I just can’t see that what young queer artists need is help being humbled. They need help being valued as people, they need the internal presence of self to command that value be respected, and they need the external support to give them a fighting chance at that. And not to be That Fan, but that fighting chance doesn’t come from individual actions. It comes from worker solidarity and respect for labor as labor. It just doesn’t work for me to have a series around the exploitation and consumption of young talent and leave anything material about money and labor practices out of the material.
(McKelvie’s My (6000 F) pantheon has unionized joke, but unironically.)
Anyway this comic was all about Don’t Let This Happen To You. And that’s a good start, but I was hoping for it to be so much more than that. It could be that this is me looking at WicDiv and wanting it to say something broader about specialness and creativity and mental illness and exploitation.
(There’s a lot to be unpacked wrt presenting itself as a story about the whole world through all of human history, while also intending to be psuedoautobiographical for a very specific set of circumstances. But that’s not this post.)
It’s weird because like, Fandemonium already delivered masterfully on Laura learning to value herself outside of godhood. Laura’s last pre-apoptheosis soliloquy about “I can’t save any of them, but I can still help them” was one of those wham moments that really cemented this book’s place in my heart. Living through Fandemonium and realizing that the gods were people, and needed actual love and support from people who cared about them as people, and that just being a decent friend is something worth living for, fuck!! That’s good shit!! That’s fucking excellent!!
And for the rest of WicDiv’s run, I was always waiting for the story to get back to that place, but it never really did.
(ETA AFTER 45 IS OUT: ok fine I fucking love that Laura saved Luci. Big Gay Hero Girl drags naughty non-devil out of hell and they kiss, fucking A+. But “can’t save but CAN help” is still something I wish the comic had followed up on more. The friendship thing got touched on a little bit too, but never in a way I found as satisfying as Fandemonium.)
So anyway Luci going Full Diva. Her future is this and her future is nothing.
The longer I chew on it, the more I like it, and the more it seems like the inevitable place for Elanor Rigby’s story to go. It’s a good continuation from where we last saw her have any scrap of agency, but also frustrating in that “the lat time we saw her have any scrap of agency” was basically the entire comic ago. It was jarring to have her go from [One Sassy Line Per Issue] to [Maybe I’m The Final Boss]. Her story suffered deeply suffered from all the time she spent off screen. But despite all that, I’m very much really looking forward to whatever the fuck Laura Wilson’s going to do about this.
I’m trying not to get my hopes up for Talk Her Down ending. It seems perfectly in line with this series to end with the moral of “sometimes, no matter how kind or brave or caring you are, people you love pick their addictions over living.” That’s a song I’ve already heard live and in person, and I don’t really want or need to hear anyone else’s studio cover.
Uh final thought on 43 is.... Minanke DOES seem to count herself as part of the 12, which still lines up with my Emily Was Also A Fake God theory (Fauxmaterasu theory? Nokami hypothesis? Amaterasuspicion?) but it does seem unlikely to actually be a Thing between now and the epilogue. shrug.
(ETA AGAIN: I had to write out my feelings on 39 and Laura’s own abdication (unpotheosis?) to properly respond to 43. So here’s a draft of another unpublished post that I fleshed out.)
I have extremely mixed feelings about chapter 39.
First Feeling: thank fuck the pregnancy plot is over.
Second feeling: establishing abdication as an option established a nice overarching shape to this book. Things have felt directionless for many chapters, but this does make it seem like we are back on some kind of track.
Third Feeling: kinda liking abdication as a general direction for endgame. For most of the series, I was hoping the whole that there actually was Something Important about the recurrence, but since it's clear now that it’s basically all lies, I like this this angle well enough.
Strongest Feeling: hell fucking yes to Laura’s shaved head.
(Tangential Feeling: buzzing your own head is good and you should think about doing it. Doing it for catharsis in a moment of crisis is A-OK, but I did it once just because I felt like it and it was fucking great. banishing your high maintenance hair does not cure depression, but it does give you back an hour of personal upkeep every day and the fuzzy head is wonderful to touch.)
Contrary to most of the fandom, though, I absolutely loathed Laura’s monologue here, and the context that it puts around her not-choice. There’s a lot of shitty Hot Takes out there about how mental illness and addition and creation intersect. A lot of people will suggest that being unhealthy makes you a better artist, and what’s more that being a better artist is worth being unhealthy. This series is unambiguously and steadfastly against that message, which is one of the absolute best and most important things about it! I don’t want to diminish that.
But that all said, seeing Laura alone in the dark describing “an addicts moment of clarity” was... jesus it was all kinds of personally painful and upsetting. It hurt real bad, and not in the way I though I had agreed to be hurt. And I’m not sure how to spell out why.
I have thousands and thousands of words on why it struck such a sour cord in me, but a lions share can be summed up with “fuck absolutely every story where a Troubled Girl just needed to get traumatized/humiliated/humbled enough to Realize How Bad She Was Being.” Double fuck this one in particular for showing the girl getting over addiction/mental illness by literally sitting alone in the dark thinking about how much she fucked up. That story is tired, and cruel, and dangerous, and thank Christ I encountered this comic at 30 and not 19 because I would have swallowed it down with all the other poison that Helpful Adults fed me.
But yeah though, her shaved look is fucking adorable as shit. Neither she nor Britany made any hair mistakes.
ETA ULTIMATE: That last bit is the one thing in this post I don’t quite still stand by. By the end, it’s clear that the above wasn’t at all the story this book was trying to tell at all. I thought WicDiv was trying to tell some Epic Truths, Hard-Facts-About-Human-Nature shit. But despite the sweeping setup (All Across The World and Through All Of History) the book was using a complex allegory for a very specific situation (Selling Your Soul and Name and Life To Creative-Industrial Machines), and that made it muddy.
(Insert Principal Skinner meme here “Am I out of touch? Was I simply interrogating the text from the wrong perspective? No, it’s the original creators who are wrong!”)
I’m from a family of mentally ill, addiction-prone, recovering-Catholic artists. Laura is in my blood. Half the people I love are Laura. I have Laura’s painting on my wall and her books on my shelf. I’ve sat with Laura’s mother a few years after Laura’s death, as her father now slowly dying in the next room, and listened to her music for the first time. (It was good. It was really good. And I never even knew.)
These experiences colored my read, but how could they not?
I do now, I think, understand what Gillen was trying to say- the addiction he was talking about was to stardom, the attention and accolades, and free pass to make your own shit be everyone else’s problem. I understand now that the “art” that the gods made was always supposed to be Not Real Art, that there was no true “message” from their songs- all noise, no signal. It was never about Laura’s art, or even Laura as an artist. And that was unpleasant to reconcile.
Because when you're Laura, or Elanor, or any of them, life doesn’t have to grant your ill-advised wish before it fucks your head and kills you. Sometimes you fight as hard as you can with every fiber of your being and you’re still in Hell. Sometimes you’re doing all the Meetings and self-reflection and therapy you can manage and you’re still a Destroyer. But the shit you create while you’re down there is worthy of creating. What you do with your too-short, too-fucked time matters. A fucked up life was still worth living because it was your life to live. And... I guess, from the story presented in Faust Act and Fandemonium, I sort of thought that this was what WicDiv was supposed to be talking about. I thought it was going to be about doing something good even when life is fucking you. But instead it is a cautionary tale that that suggests you could have stopped getting fucked at any time if you had just gotten over yourself and said the magic words.
We spent half the comic watching Laura drag herself through the mud. Half the comic was focused on Her Mistakes, when so little of her circumstances were actually her fault. “Punish Ophelia until she gets over herself” is not at all what WicDiv meant to be about. I imagine the creators would be aghast to hear that’s what I got out of it. But the text is what the text is. While it is intended (and successful!) at being many other very good things, this one really bad thing is still part of that mix, and that sucks.
Maybe I should have picked up on the discrepancy between my read and the intent sooner. Probably I should have just done myself a favor and stop reading once I did.
2016, 2017 while my life was going a bit to shit, this comic was exactly what I needed. Being in the fandom made my life better and helped me meet cool new friends and get through some of the hardest shit to happen to me since I was a kid. Then in 2018, it slid into source of frustration and soured promise. Now at the end I have no idea if I liked it or not.
But that’s fine, now that it’s done. The ink is dry, the ritual is over. It’s just a comic book now. Some pictures I still love and some words I don’t always agree with. A lot of noise, arguable amounts of signal, but not a song I want to play on loop anymore.
I have no real conclusion to draw here. I respect at how firmly WicDiv rejects dark and unhealthy parts of being a professional creator- especially unhealthy things that are generally just accepted as Common Wisdom. I don’t think it took enough care in spelling out what it was rejecting, though, and I do think it was remiss in not finding good healthy things to embrace as an alternative.
All of the above notwithstanding, I have to give it credit for delivering almost exactly what I wanted in terms of lesbian nonsense. That ain’t nothing.
I give this series ?????/∞ and am happy to be safely clear of Kieron Gillen’s Wild Ride
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Say Dean did give her the necklace. Out of all the horrendous things he’s done to her, why would she decide to wear it tho?
Well, assuming that he is the one to give her the new necklace, which Istrongly suspect he is (although I’ve been wrong before!), I think there are afew reasons she’d wear it. And hey! I’ve had five or six asks since 2.08about Beth and Dean’s relationship, history and age gap, which I had a fewdrafts of, so I’m so sorry! I’m going to highjack your ask to combine/answerthem all! Hope that’s okay.
Putting all myheadcanons and theories aside (at least for the first half of this post haha),let’s just talk about what canon has established about Beth and Dean and theirrelationship over the last 18 episodes.
This is like, verylong (seriously 2,800 words), haha, so I’m putting it under a cut to save all your feeds.
The Marks’ Family ValuesWhile 2.08 clarified a few things about the way Beth, Ruby and Annie wereraised, there’s still a lot that we don’t really know, so let’s look at what wedo know:
1. Beth as a youngteenager crashed her mother’s car out the front of Ruby’s house with her kidsister in the passenger seat because there was no food in the house, and theirmother wasn’t getting out of bed. The implication, from Annie’sdialogue “She just really likes it there” is that this is not a new thing.(2.08)
2. Annie was areckless kid and had a broken arm during a time it’s implied she and Beth were neglected.(2.08)
3. “You knowwhat my mama used to say? You get what you get and you don’t get upset.” – Beth(2.01)
4. Beth played pianofor six years after her parents dropped $$s on it, despite changing her mindand wanting to play violin, which on its own I think can be written off as generalchildish indecisiveness, buuuut I think means a little more than that in thecontext of everything else. (1.05)
5. Beth worked heronly legitimate job in highschool at the Dairy Queen. (1.03)
5. Annie used to gethigh and was sexually active in highschool, and had gossip/rumours spread abouther. Their mother came into the school to address it and, it’s implied, madethe situation a lot worse, causing Annie not want to do the same to Sadie with Sadie’sbullies. (1.04)
6. Then Annie gotpregnant in highschool. (mentioned multiple times)
7. Beth has alwaysbeen the one that Annie has called to bail her out of trouble (mentioned a fewtimes).
9. Beth had postpartumdepression with at least one of her children. (2.05)
The Boland Timeline
While we haven’t gottenconfirmed ages of the characters, we do know that Dean is, at the very least, ayear older than Beth, although I think it’s more likely around three yearsgiven the way it’s framed in the episode. SO.
1. Beth meets Dean atschool when she’s either a freshman, sophomore or junior. He’s a senior. It’sat a point in time where we know her mother is bedridden and Beth spends a lotof time looking after Annie (she even took Annie to Ruby’s father’s funeral,which I think says a lot as to how much Beth – and by proxy Ruby – were lookingafter Annie). (2.08)
2. Beth and Dean havebeen married for 20 years during S1, so that puts them likely at gettingmarried when Beth is somewhere between the age of 20-22. (mentioned multipletimes)
3. Somewhere in thistime period, Dean takes over Boland Motors from his father (one of the photosin the screensaver Dean’s looking at in 2.04 looks like it’s from a grandre-opening, and Beth’s holding a baby boy, so it looks like this could bearound the time Kenny or Danny is born) and Beth becomes a stay-at-home motherand a housewife. Dean also has full control of their finances, and Beth is onan allowance that he also controls.
4. Kenny has hiseleventh birthday in S1, so Beth would’ve been in her late twenties when shehad him.
5. We don’t know theage gap between the rest of the kids (and in fact, those age gaps have obviouslychanged between S1 and S2 lol) but it looks like Jane is now the youngest, notEmma, and that Beth and Dean hadn’t had sex in the two years before gettingpregnant with Jane, and then that they hadn’t had sex since she was born until2.06, which seems to be about five or six years. (2.05 / 1.05)
6. Beth had postpartumdepression after at least Emma (it was the specific given reason as to why theyhadn’t had sex in the two years before getting pregnant with Jane), although Ithink the implication is that it was with more of the kids than just her.
7. Somewhere in allof this, Dean had multiple affairs. He says four, but the implication fromAmber is that it’s more than that, and then I think Beth basically confirmsthat when she says “Dean’s slept with half of Detroit” later in the episode.Plus Dean being a pathological liar isn’t exactly a secret. (2.05)
8. Beth finds out hesleeps with Amber in 1.01 and that he’s mortgaged their house three times andthat their savings are gone. She kicks him out, takes control of theirfinances, and robs Fine & Frugal.
9. Dean tries to winher back a few times - first by appealing to her pragmatism (and I’ll beexpanding on this shortly) - by talking about how they’ll both be worse offfinancially if they separate - before telling her that she’s the love of hislife, then by showing up unannounced to mow the backyard (a traditionally malehousehold job), then by using Kenny’s birthday wish that they were backtogether to try and guilt her (another point I’ll be expanding on shortly!)
10. Cut to Kenny’sbirthday party. He implies Beth’s having an affair with Rio (lols for so manyreasons), they fight, Beth insinuates that she’ll be filing for divorce soon(”You’re still my wife” “Yeah, I’ve gotta get on that.”) and Dean drops TheCancer Lie. Beth is obviously upset, and lets him move back in, but he’ssleeping in Kenny’s room. (1.04)
11. Dean doubles down on the cancer lie by bribing a doctor to tell Bethhe has prostate cancer, but he also covers for her when Turnerfinds the Boland Motors car the girls stole from the lot. He then confronts herabout it in a very paternalistic way (”Why don’t you get a job?” “Sit down!”“These people prey on good, innocent people” “I’m sorry I yelled at you, buteverything’s going to be fine. I’ll take care of you.”). Beth plays along inthe moment, but Dean changes the locks without telling her (and also doesn’thelp her bring the grocery bags in which is sooo telling), reveals he’sswitched hours with a guy at work to be around to ‘protect’ her, and Bethfinally stands up for herself “You have no idea what I’ve done or even who Iam”. (1.06)
12. Dean asks her ifshe’s doing it for the kids. She says yes, and he says it’s all he needs toknow. It genuinely seems to comfort her in the moment. It’s one of their fewnice scenes and I think shows what they were like when they were at their verybest. (1.07)
13. Rio shuts down,Beth is back on an allowance. She tries to get a loan, but their credit hasn’trebounded enough and they still have too much debt. Dean solves the problem bymoving the botox via the doctor he bribed. Dean won’t tell Beth how he did it,but she’s grateful enough to end up coming clean about what she does for Rio.They have their second nice moment. “You don’t deserve anything I did toyou.” + “I think you’re incredible.” (1.08)
14. Dean obviouslyfeels like he and Beth are getting back on track, and is annoyed that Annie’sliving with them temporarily. He builds Beth a craft table with hiddencompartments to hide her fake cash! (1.09)
15. Dean tries toorganise something for their anniversary, which Beth doesn’t agree to rightaway, but does later in the episode when he tries to help her after realisingshit’s going down in the crime world. Dean gets into a car accident whilechecking out another woman, Beth finds out he lied about the cancer (like thatgrenade was never going to blow, Deansy), he came home, Rio shoots him to getback at Beth, but not before revealing a certain degree of intimacy and trustbetween the two of them, which Dean clocks instantly. (1.10 / 2.01)
Then Season 2happens, haha.
So let’s talk about Beth & Dean
I’ve said it a fewtimes before, but when it comes to Beth, we’re ultimately watching somebody whohas been disempowered and disenfranchised for a really, really long time tryingto reclaim a sense of identity and control over her life. Even before 2.08, wewere looking at that through the sense of her marriage to Dean where she had noreal independence. Her entire life was dictated by decisions that he made forthem, personally, professional and financially, and a lot of the first half of Season1 was devoted to her realising exactly how many of those decisions had been bad ones. As the series went on, she reallydid start to gain a sense of financial independence (which is incredibly important)as well as a sense of her own identity and agency, only for that to becompletely crippled again across that four episode arc - 1.09 through to 2.02 –firstly by thinking Rio had played her for a fool (the empty truck), then Rio firingher, then realising that Dean hadplayed her for a fool again (thecancer lie), and then her plot to put Rio away falling apart, Dean being shot,and her realising that she was newly indebted to both of them.
I think what 2.08contextualised was that Beth has never really been allowed to explore who sheis, because there’s always been somebody she’s had to look after. She’s alwayshad dependents and she has lived a life of constant compromise, making her incrediblypragmatic and sacrificing of her own needs and wants. The episode establishedthat Beth spent most if not all of her adolescence caring for Annie and theirmother, married young, and then spent her entire young adult life looking afterDean and their four children.
Likely the appeal ofDean was that he was older, gave her attention in a way that seemed to ‘see’ herat a time where her needs were neglected at home, and likely popular – he’s goofyand fun, as the show’s establishedmultiple times, which I think would be more likeable at that teenage age, and Ithink he probably appealed to Beth as a way out of a troubling home situation.At the end of the day, the show has established pretty firmly that Beth is, whenit comes to her and her own, a survivor. And when I say survivor, I don’t meanthe badass, action heroine sort of survivor - I mean the desperate, do-what-she-has-tosort of survivor. She has an uncanny ability to lie and perform to get herselfout of situations, and also a tendency to sacrifice her own happiness for thoseshe loves. I think when it came to Dean, for a very long time, Beth sacrificedpower and control for a security and safety that she hadn’t had growing up,first for herself (and likely in part for Annie too), and then for her fourchildren.
And I think Dean, priorto the start of the series, had never truly been challenged on any of thecontrol that he wrought over their lives. He’s your classic embodiment of whitemale privilege, and I think he has all the baggage that comes with that,including a firm belief in gender roles, a heady sense of entitlement, and asubconscious expectation that things will usually work in his favour. The factthat he started dating Beth when she was so young, that he inherited BolandMotors from his father, and the fact that he blames Beth’s postpartum depressionfor his affairs too I think drasticallyemphasises that. We talk a lot about the power play between Beth and Rio, butBeth and Dean, since 1.01, have been in a power play of their own – Beth in herdesire to break out of their traditional roles, to ‘steer the ship’, and toreally put her family in a more secure position in life (something she realisedDean was incapable of doing), and Dean in his desire to keep them in their traditional roles, to ‘steer the ship’, and tokeep the status quo (I mean, hell, the fact that he was checking out anotherwoman on his way to his anniversary dinner with Beth in 1.10 says a lot about exactly how little he wants things tochange).
In what is typical ofpeople who are nurturers/carers or have been forced into nurturer/carerpositions in their life, Beth also seems to feel guilt to a disproportionatedegree, and in a way that often seems to cancel out any other emotion,including her anger. This is established pretty early in season one in smallways - her snipping with Annie then immediately back pedalling when sherealises Annie might lose custody of Sadie, with not being able to throw Kennythe birthday party he wants, with her telling Dean about what she does for Rioafter Dean offloads the botox, and then reiterated in big ways this season -nursing Dean after he’s been shot, crawling into bed with Kenny after he gotcaught binge eating at school, going above and beyond to get the dubby backafter Jane feels neglected, I’d even argue that the whole situation with MaryPat has partially been fuelled by guilt for putting Mary Pat in that situationin the first place when she’s a widow with four young children.
And I think Dean knows this! He has guilted her so much across the course of this show, often in a way to deflectfrom his own shortcomings or to ultimately playher. He gaslights her all the time,and she often doesn’t even realise it, which demonstrates, to me at least, howoften he’s done it over the course of their 20+ year relationship. The wholething about the cancer lie in the first place was to back her into a corner,which he succeeded in doing. He guilted her about being at Boland Motors andaway from the kids. When Jane went missing, he immediately blamed her and guilted her for her involvement with Rio(instead of………you know……….looking for his daughter), in 2.08, he guilted Beth for checking on her moneybefore untying him after he’d tried to organise a hit on her partner and gottenher robbed blind in the process.
And when the guilt and the manipulation stopped working, he did thething he knew she couldn’t ignore (and that would hurt her the most) which istake the children. Beth is, like I said earlier, a survivor and a sacrificer whenit comes to her and her own. There’s no way she won’t give up everything togive those children what she didn’t have – a mother who she could rely on. I thinkDean’s ultimatum won’t just be about them either. I could be wrong, but I thinkhe’s going to tell her that they have to try again as a couple, and I thinkthat’s what that necklace is going to be about (seriously though, if he givesit to her as a part of the ultimatum, everything about it symbolically is acollar), and she’ll put it on for her children, and I think it’s all honestlygoing to push her over the edge in a really big way before the season’s over.
I’ve mentioned this in other posts, but I think Beth fully was intendingto leave Dean before the cancer lie, but then she needed to care for him(again, a manipulation I think Dean knew would work because of Beth’s historycaring for her mother and Annie), and then the shooting (same reason, plus theadded bonus of her having caused it). Since then, I think she has almostcompletely emotionally divorced him – having sex with Rio, taking over BM,checking on the money first, not letting him back into her bed – is all verytelling of this, and I think she had likely had her pragmatic hat on and waswaiting until she could feasibly balance all the pieces in her life on her ownbefore filing for divorce. Of course, that’s now blown up with Dean holding thechildren essentially hostage.
And look, do I thinkDean loves Beth? I do actually, in his own way. Do I think Beth loves Dean? Ithink she did, but like she said to Ruby – Dean’s not a soulmate for her, oreven a partner. Beth and Dean should’ve maybe briefly dated in highschool andthen broken up, but they’re both in too deep now, and I don’t think anythingshort of a bullet or an arrest is going to easily disentangle them.
#beth x dean#NBC Good Girls#speculation#gg 2.08#gg 2.09#welcome to my ama#character backgrounds#timelines#beth boland#dean boland#staying's worse than leaving#gg season 2
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Breaking... Ch.13
Breaking Masterlist
A/N: ‘m really sorry if this chapter feels kinda rushed and out of no where, I’m at a weird point in the story and I don’t know how to go around it yet so I’m really sorry you may have to suffer through this. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh
Wordcount: 2964
Warnings: Cursing (like more than usual), arguing, just generally being upset, revelations
Tags: @iamnotthrowingawaymyshit @renae-writes @deltablue202 @literally-melonkitty@meunicorn @favouritefighting-frenchman @demi-godamit @gum-and-chips @sweaterkitty-fluff@pinkyiger7 @littlemissshortcakes@msageofenlightenment @unprofessional-inhumanbeing@fandom-panda-221@hummusandchips @spoopy-piineapple @ashwolfcub @myself-and-the-madman @sweet-fate @superwholockbooknerd526 @frozengal2013 @lmaodedhaha@itsmikayblr @sarmar29 @arya-durin-77 @phantastic-fandoms @hoshihime98 @shinigamired @martapetrovic @robotic-space @iamnotthrowingawaymyshit2 (lol) @asprinkleofmermaids @pinkyiger7 (I’m tagging you twice my friend!)
Breaking Chances
This is it. It’s only a few more hours until everyone gets back and honestly you couldn’t be happier. The past two months working for Burr have completely sucked ass. Seriously if I have to hear “talk less, smile more” one more time I’m going to shoot someone. Aaron let you have these last few days off, just in case they came back early. You finally had some time to think, and damn were you doing a lot of it. You realized after your horse accident you need to be more careful. You’re about 99.9% sure that the voices you heard were from your timeline. And you were even more sure that you heard Anna calling out to you. God, I must be worrying the hell out of her… I’m so sorry Anna… Being away from the Hamilton’s was a wakeup call in it of itself. You’d gotten too comfortable being with them, they were practically your family at this point. You didn’t want to risk the universe but you were scared. You felt selfish and that made you more scared. You’ve majorly fucked up; you can’t tell what the backlash from your actions will be. But honestly, you didn’t really care, if that made sense. What you did care about though was how they would feel. What if you just woke up back at home? What if you didn’t get to say goodbye? So you found a way to fix that. Letters. If Alexander and Rachel taught you anything it was that writing solves everything. Or at least, almost anything. You wrote a letter to everyone, just in case something happened. You told Johnny that he needs to open up more, there’s nothing wrong with being a bit more reserved but he needs to be more confident in himself and his voice. You told Jamie that he needs to stop being so serious all the time, it’s alright to be responsible but he needs to lighten up! He’s just a kid, kids need to have fun! You told AJ that he can’t ever let go of his positivity, always think on the bright side and be there for the people he loves when they go through tough times. To Angie you wrote about her determination. She’s strong and intelligent, she should never lose confidence in her abilities. You told her to explore, not to force herself to be the ‘typical lady’, be someone no one has ever seen before! You told Alexander that he needs to relax, spend more time with his family, slow down on the work. Life is too short to let it fly by. For Eliza, your words were simple. Never lose hope, don’t give up. She taught you a lot and she needs to be proud of all the amazing things she’s done and will continue to do. Philip…that was a different story. You didn’t know exactly what to say and that made you question yourself. It was easy to write to the others, no second drafts, no redoes or anything. But Philip’s required many sheets of wasted paper. Nothing you put down felt quite right. How do I feel about him? I definitely care about him, I’ll never find anyone as trusting or as kind as him, especially not back home. Am I falling for him? Oh no, what if I already have? Shit, do I… Do I love him? No! I’ve only known him a year, I can’t say ‘love’ yet! And what would that even mean if I did? I don’t want to hurt him; I know I will. But still… When I fanaticize at night, it’s into Philip’s eyes. What should I do? He deserves someone who can make him happy… But what even IS love? Is it when you see someone for the first time and know you’re meant to be? No, love at first sight is silly. Is it when you miss someone so much that it feels like you’re suffocating? Possibly, but that doesn’t exactly have to be romantic I suppose. Then what is it? Whenever I read Philip’s letters…my mind feels fuzzy, that’s never happened before. If we read in the study, I end up not reading at all. I peak my head over the book and just watch him, try to guess what he’s thinking, guess what chapter he’s on, count his freckles. I don’t get distracted by anyone else. He makes me forget things, sometimes I don’t even remember that I’m from the future. I feel at home with him, even when we’re both awkward and don’t know what to say. I’m never bored with him, he always talks to me, he’s interested in what I have to say and I wouldn’t miss what he has to say for the world. If I’m feeling anxious or sad, he’s always the first one by my side, trying to make me feel better any way he can, and it always works. I can’t stand seeing him in distress, I just want him to always be happy, even if that’s literally impossible. I just love everything about him! Wait… Holy shit, I just said ‘love’! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, no! I…I love Philip Hamilton… Oh my god! What do I do?! Do I tell him?! Well duh, of course you tell him! Idiot! Nothing good comes out of hiding your feelings, but how do I do it? How do you even bring that up? Do I just blurt it out? No, then you’d look crazy! Real nice job, Y/N! You sighed and held you head in your hands. I never thought I’d ever feel so helpless… You looked up and out your window, the sun was high in the sky. Crap! They should be here any minute! You quickly put all your stuff away and ran out of your room, not bothering to check your appearance. Running down the hall and into the main room you heard a sound that made you both over joyed and incredibly nervous. You haphazardly moved some of your hair to sit over top the still healing cut, you hoped it wouldn’t scar so that your life could for once be a little easy. You stood in the middle of the room and waited for a moment. From outside you heard Eliza.
“We’re home everyone! Now children please grab your- Philip dear, where are you going? You need to get your bags!” You heard impatient footsteps on the steps and then the door flew open. Philip was there, waiting for a moment. A huge, dorky smile on his face, wide eyes. He looked so happy that you could barely see his freckles behind is smile.
“Star!” He called out excitedly as he ran towards you. He wrapped his arms around you, lifted you off the ground and span around. You gripped onto his shoulders cautiously.
“P-Philip! Come on! I-it’s only been a few months!” He set you back on the ground, you couldn’t help but feel a bit anxious as you looked up at him. You heard someone clear their throat and turned to see Alex, holding way too many bags. Eliza, holding a slightly bigger Willy than you remembered, and the children following close behind, but once the kids saw you they all rushed over.
“TT! I’ve missed you so much!” AJ yelled. Angie wrapped her arms around you, giving you a squeeze.
“Oh TT! You missed everything!” She pulled away. “I’m fourteen now! I’m a proper young lady! Isn’t that exciting?” She squealed. You chuckled, you missed her excitement. Jamie and Johnny both stepped up to you and shyly hugged your sides, you patted them both on the head. You looked up to see Eliza and Alex waiting to say hello. You walked over to them and wrapped one arm behind each of their backs. They gave you a gentle group hug and pulled away to look down at you. Eliza raised an eyebrow incredulously.
“Are you alright, my dear? You seem out of sorts.” Her voice was soft and full of concern.
“Um, yeah? I’m a bit tired but I would say I’m feeling okay.” Do I look sick or something? Philip stepped up beside you, Eliza and Alex walked around the both of you to check and make sure the children brought in all their things. Philip turned to face you, when he looked at you he seemed confused. Yet he was also amused by something. He chuckled softly.
“Were you writing before you came to greet us?” He laughed.
“Yeah, how’d you know?” He raised his hand to your cheek, he grazed your cheekbone with his thumb, your hair pushing out of the way as he did so. You didn’t even register what was happening at first. “You’ve got ink on your face silly…” His eyes suddenly widened. Oh no… He moved the rest of your hair, completely exposing the cut on your face. His eyes filled with something you can only equate to terror. “What happened? How did you get that?” He asked worriedly.
“Uh…Um, n-nothing happened?” What the hell am I doing?! He grabbed your hand and gave it a squeeze but now he seemed even more confused. He lifted your hand up and turned it in his own, making you palm visible. He focused on it, there were small almost scarred cuts on your hands. Damn you teacup!
“You’re lying; I know when you’re lying! Wait, why are you lying?” He asked with panic. “Did someone do this? Was it the suitor? Did he find you?” Who’s he talking…? YOU’VE GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME! No! Did he really remember that? Aw, he really does pay attention! Fuck, no Y/N! This is serious! You instinctively pulled your hand away and took a step back.
“I… I can’t…” You looked down at the ground, you couldn’t even look at him in that moment, you could hardly speak. I just found out I love him, how am I supposed to lie to him? But if I tell him the truth… it’ll crush him. I can’t do that; I can’t do that to him!
“You can’t what? Can’t talk to me? I thought you trusted me! We promised not to lie to each other!” He sounded genuinely hurt, you didn’t know why but you felt angry. Not at him but at yourself for getting into this mess.
“I don’t have to tell you everything Philip! It’s not like I’m your wife or something! And even if I was I don’t have to tell you shit!” You shot back. What am I doing? Where did that even come from?
“Well who even said I’d want you as my wife? Because I sure as hell don’t want my wife to lie to me!”
“What else do you expect me to do Philip? You wouldn’t understand! You’re just a kid!” You yelled. Philip’s eyes looked like they could pop out of his head, but for some reason you couldn’t tell what he was thinking. I hate it when I can’t guess what people are thinking!
“So…that’s how you really feel, huh?” He asked softly. You didn’t move, your muscles were completely tensed up, your hands were clenched into fists and shaking. Philip let out something like a short laugh. “Of course, I’m such an idiot.” He turned and walked away from you, past everyone else and up the stairs. You didn’t dare take a breath until you heard his door shut. What did…Oh God… Philip, I’m so sorry…so sorry… You felt tears running down your face, your shoulders moving up and down with your cries. You covered your mouth to muffle the sobbing. Eliza and Alex were whispering behind you, after a moment you heard Alex speak to you in a calm voice.
“Y/N? Are you alright?” He stepped up to you and placed his hand on your shoulder, you shook it off. He began to say your name again but you cut him off by gathering your skirt and running to the door. You swung it open and rushed out. You didn’t know what you were doing, you weren’t processing anything, melting snow crunched under your shoes. The sun was warm but the air was sharp. You ran out of the yard and down the road, you didn’t realize where you were going, until you came upon that lamp post. The one that you woke up under on your first day in this strange old and new world. You stood in front of it and kicked it with all your might, not caring how badly it might hurt.
“Damn it! Why? Why me? I didn’t ask for this! Take me back! I want to go home! Do you hear me? Take me back!” You screamed, so loud it made your throat burn. Your knees hit the ground, you couldn’t stand anymore. You felt weak, and this time you couldn’t lie to yourself. “I’m helpless… I ruined everything!” Your vision was blurry but as you looked down at the ground, a small light flashed into your right eye. You wiped away your tears so you could get a better look at it. There was a small plaque at the base of the lamp post, you didn’t remember it being there before but it looked old and worse for wear. The only part you could make out was the end. “…nix? What?” The beginning was blocked out by some kind of metal fragments imbedded in it. It looks like…what is that? Broken shrapnel? Whatever it is, it’s making this really hard to figure out. What does ‘nix’ mean? That’s obviously not all that’s there. You heard footsteps quickly approaching you, you didn’t bother to look up. Whoever it was kneeled down beside you.
“Titania! You can’t just run off like that! Or at least tell us where you are going first!” Alex said, trying to catch his breath.
“…Alex…What have I done?” You asked as you continued to stare at the golden metal plate. Alex sighed.
“I’m positive that if you just-“
“Not that! None of this was supposed to happen… Everything I get close to ends up going to hell. What have I done to deserve this? How could I make such an idiotic mistake? I made the man I love hate me…” Alex was silent for a moment.
“We all make mistakes, some worse than others.” He placed his hand on your shoulder once more and you raised your head up toward the sky. “Look at where you are, look at where you started. The fact that you’re alive is a miracle. Just stay alive and that would be enough for him. Look at how lucky you are to be alive right now!” He said with fatherly optimism. “I can’t pretend I don’t know the challenges you’re facing. The words you keep erasing and replacing in your mind. But I can tell that he’s just as afraid. He knows that he loves you, he wants to grant you peace of mind. All you have to do is let him inside your heart.”
“But I’m scared… I shouldn’t be a part of the narrative in the stories they’ll write someday…”
“Yes, you should. Let this moment be the first chapter where you decide to stay.” He encouraged.
“But could I be enough? Would this be enough?”
“It will be enough.” He finished. You knew he was right, you made a mistake but as long there was even a slim chance at redemption, you knew you had to take that chance. Even if he still hates you in the end.
“When should I tell him?” You asked.
“Not now, I believe he needs some time to cool down. I would suggest apologizing in a few days but don’t confess your feelings just yet. You’ll both need time to adjust before you can accept your mutual fondness.” You nodded in agreement. It was probably best to keep your feelings a secret for now, at least until you both felt comfortable again. “While we are away from the others I have a question for you Titania. Rachel, she left with Cato didn’t she?” He asked, you turned your gaze toward him, obvious shock painted on your features.
“How? How did you know?” You asked curiously, he chuckled.
“When we heard from Mulligan that Cato was gone, everyone was shocked. That is, except for Betsy and I. We saw the way she looked at him, to us it was obvious. She’s a bit of a rebel, isn’t she? Laurens would be very proud of her.” He smiled. Wait what? Laurens? As in John Laurens?! Like leader of the first all-black battalion?! “She may not look like him but she sure as hell has his spirit!” He laughed. OH MY GOD JOHN LAURENS IS RACHEL’S DAD HOLY FUCKING SHIT!
“My friend is the daughter of one of the first anti-slavery activists in American history… And fell in love with the slave of one of his closest friends…while she was raised by the other…Wow…” Honestly at this point you had an incredible headache, you had a lot to think about and you told Alex that. He agreed and you both made your way back to the house. You immediately went into your room and fell onto your bed. Making irreversibly bad decisions is exhausting… I wish Rachel was still here…just so that I could talk to her. I wish Anna was here! Why do both of my green-eyed best friends have to be so far away?! If Angie was a little older I would have no issue with talking with here…actually her and Anna are pretty similar sometimes… I guess I’m just going to have to deal with this one on my own! Hopefully I’m not running out of time...
#hamilton#hamilton the musical#hamilton fanfic#alexander hamilton#eliza schuyler#Philip Hamilton#angelica schuyler#mulligan#lafayette#John Laurens#thomas jefferson#james madison#aaron burr#philip x reader#time travel au#CAN WE GET BACK TO POLITICS#hamilton an american musical
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He’s Got You High
For @a-simple-rainbow. ♥♥♥
She wanted something based on this post: Kurt sends an email to his TA while high on pain meds after a wisdom teeth extraction.
read on AO3
Blaine is in the middle of his theatre history class when his phone signals a new email in his inbox. Discreetly hiding the phone from his instructor’s view by keeping his hands behind a stack of textbooks on his desk, he goes to his email folder and checks the sender.
It reads, Kurt Hummel.
He has to bite his tongue to stop the smile forming on his lips. Kurt is a sophomore, only a year behind Blaine, and takes improv and stage combat class with Blaine. He’s also a student in one of Mme Tibideaux’s more advanced voice studio classes that Blaine miraculously got to be the TA for this year.
To say that Kurt is Blaine’s favorite student would be an understatement – in fact, hopelessly crushing on him is probably more accurate.
It’s not like Blaine is planning to do anything about it, at least not while he’s Kurt’s TA. It would be inappropriate, unprofessional, and probably also really awkward, especially if Kurt isn’t interested.
So, he’s not fooling himself into thinking that Kurt’s email will be anything out of the ordinary. Probably a note of absence or questions about the final exam… though, as Blaine notices with a frown, the subject reads “Paper Eggstension”. Autocorrect maybe? There’s no way Kurt’s spelling is that bad, Blaine has read and graded most of his MUS105 papers.
Glancing at the teacher to ensure he’s still unobserved, Blaine opens the email, intrigued and a bit concerned now. He scans the first few lines and – oh, wow.
Everyone at NYADA knows Kurt is full of surprises and he’s certainly made an impression on Blaine more than once but this…? This has Blaine blushing, giggling under his breath, shaking his head fondly and wanting to check up on Kurt all at once.
To: Blaine Anderson
From: Kurt Hummel
Subject: Paper Eggstension
---
Dear Mr. Blaine,
sry, I forgot your last name because Rachel calls you Mr. Dreamboat! And y would I use your last name anyway? You told us to call you Blaine. Thats a nice name. Blaiiiine.
You said other stuff too. Like that we could send you our MUS105 paper before we send it to Mme Tibidibideaux (I wish she let us call her Blaine too) but only if we dont miss the deadline. Now I gotta tell you: No can-do. But I have an excuse!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I know you don’t believe. But you should. Cuz Blaine, u see – I got my teeth removed. The smarty ones. The wisdom teat. Anyway. I got them out. It was brutality. So much pain, worse than when I watched you unfairly lose Midmight Madnesssss against that senior douche, whatever the fuck his name is again. You should have won Blaine. You were better. I think Rachel bribe the judge bc she went out with senior douche… what is hid name? Bobby? Barney?
But PLEASE could I get a few more days, could you ask Mme T.…??? I really wanna do well bc… you see, Mme T., she scares the hell out of me. Ha that rhymes, triple! Cuz I’m awesome. Yes, I am. You can just accept that as fact or you can also go out wih me and see how awesome I am for yourself, your choice (but pick the latter!). But anyway please please pls pls pls can I hand it the paper a bit later? I really cant submit something bad -- and Im afraid they pulled out my brain with the teeth!!!!!!!! I can’t write a well paper without a brain!
My doctor says Ill regret writing emails while Im hai (thats German for shark, funny fact) so I’m gonna stop and hope that you will say yes! Please bro? Oh! Brody. Brodouche. Midnight Madman. Destroy him next time! (He broke up with Rach, he deserves it.)
Thank you, Mr. Blaineboat. I really like you.
Kurt xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
Blaine reads the email three times before deciding that he should wait until after class to type out a response. In the state he’s in right now, he’ll probably do something stupid and just write back, Yes to all.
He wants to, of course. He’d give Kurt an extension on his paper and say yes to a date with him in a heartbeat but… he knows he’ll have to convince Mme Tibideaux, sort out his personal TA-student dating policy (and maybe ask around if NYADA has an official take on it) and make sure Kurt really meant to type this and didn’t just do so in the spur of the painkiller-induced moment.
The class can’t end fast enough but as soon as it’s over and Blaine finds a quiet corner in the library to think of what to respond, he blanks, drafting several replies but ending up deleting all of them.
“Goddammit,” he mutters to himself. “Just write something.”
In the end, “something” doesn’t really compare to Shakespeare but Blaine figures that at least he won’t risk his job over it, either.
And maybe, just maybe, Kurt will catch the ambiguity in his words.
-
“What are you working on?” Rachel asks when she comes back to the loft, arms full of grocery bags that Kurt hopes are filled with veggies for him to make soup with. He seriously craves eating something that isn’t liquid but mushy veggies drowning in hot water really is the maximum of cheating when it comes to his pained cheeks. He knew it was a bad idea to get both upper wisdom teeth out the same day. But it’s too late to complain. At least he has a best friend who brings him soup.
Kurt sighs at the laptop in front of him.
“My paper for Mme Tibideaux,” he responds. “You know I love Sondheim but interpreting his work while physically injured makes me want to kill him.”
“He’s in his mid-eighties, Kurt,” Rachel tells him. “Let an old man be.”
“Ugh.” Kurt rubs his eyes. “The meds are making me tired, though.”
“Why do you even bother writing the paper when you got an extension from Mr. Dreamboat?”
Kurt frowns at Rachel. “Extension? When would I have gotten that?”
“In your email?” Rachel frowns back. “Come on, don’t tell me you chickened out just because you’re in love with him. He’s still our TA, he could probably do something about that deadline, so-”
“I don’t remember writing an email.” Kurt goes to student email and punches in his username and password. “Or getting one back, for that matter. Like, wouldn’t I rem-” He blinks in surprise, catching Blaine’s name in his inbox – twice, even. How high was he, exactly? “Wait, what did I…?” Clicking on the email, bits and pieces come back to him, and he suddenly grabs the couch cushion next to him, holding onto it for dear life. “Oh my god, no.”
“What?”
“Rachel.” Kurt feels the blood draining from his face. “Oh, Jesus, please tell me I didn’t write that…”
He scrolls through the quoted email below Blaine’s short responses (Dear Kurt, thank you for telling me! And yes, of course! I’ll talk to Mme Tibideaux, and get back to you once I know more. Get well soon! All the best, Blaine, and the more recent Dear Kurt, I got a yes from Mme Tibideaux, you’re getting one more week! Best, Blaine) and cringes when he reads the first line.
“I did. Fuuuuuck. Oh god, now I wish Sondheim could kill me.”
“Again, the guy’s, like, 85…” Rachel says slowly. “And why would you- whoa, is that your email to Blaine?”
Kurt doesn’t answer, instead opting to hide his face in his hands.
“You did not tell him we call him Mr. Dreamboat.”
Kurt whimpers.
“You did not ask him out!” Rachel squeals.
Kurt lets out a miserable whine.
“Oh my god, Kurt, you did not tell him you like him and signed the email with a dozen kissing faces!!!”
“WHAT?!” Kurt’s hands fly back to his laptop. He didn’t re-read that part. “Oh my god! I ju- Rachel, I can never go back to that school. I’m such a failure at life, Jesus Christ.”
“You’re very religious all of a sudden.”
“Don’t just sit there mocking me,” Kurt begs. “Tell me it was all just a bad dream.”
Rachel gives him a look of deep, genuine pity. “I really wish I could but I doubt my eyes can never unsee that email. Also, I know you wrote that while you were high on pain meds but I am a bit upset you never told me you didn’t like Brody. Might have saved me some trouble.”
Kurt rolls his eyes at her. “You honestly believe I never brought it up? What do you think we were we having that flea-market chair argument for? And don’t even pretend like you would have called it off with him just because I said something.” Rachel opens her mouth to speak but Kurt shakes his head violently. “It doesn’t matter, anyway – what am I going to do about this?!”
Rachel shrugs. “Kurt, it’s out there. All you can do now is roll with it.”
“In my grave, you mean?”
“In class. To which we’re going tomorrow since you’re so much better already,” Rachel tells him sternly. “Judging by Mr. Dreamb-”
“We can’t call him that anymore,” Kurt says quickly.
“Fine.” She sighs. “Judging by Blaine’s reply, he’s not bothered by it. Who knows, maybe he’s flattered. Or happy about it. It’s not every day you get an email from a cute guy confessing he’s crushing on you.”
“Yeah, right,” Kurt mumbles into the sleeve of his sweater. “As if I stand a chance with him.”
“No time like the present to find out,” Rachel says with finality. “Now, I’m making you soup, and you’re going to put on some Sondheim so you can work on your paper with some fresh insights and maximum concentration.”
It’s a nice thought – but Kurt doesn’t get anything done that night.
-
Blaine carefully keeps his eyes on his notebook when Rachel and Kurt walk into his class.
He was expecting Kurt to come back today (and no, he did not google how long it takes for people to recover from wisdom teeth extraction – he just asked Sam, who had gotten it done right before moving to New York), and he might have put a little extra effort into looking good today. He never got a response from Kurt, so he figures the guy has either silently acknowledged the paper extension, avoided Blaine for a number of possible reasons or forgotten about the exchange entirely.
Whatever the motivation behind it, Blaine will not despair over it. He’s Kurt’s TA, and as such won’t try anything anyway. NYADA doesn’t seem to have any policy against TAs dating students but nevertheless, he doesn’t want to put either them in an awkward position.
Which doesn’t even take into account the fact that he still doesn’t know whether Kurt remembers asking him out, whether he actually meant it, or whether he intends to ask again.
He might want to wait until Blaine’s no longer his TA as well. That’s alright with Blaine. After all, there’s a month left to this semester, so he can wait. He totally can.
He looks up from his notebook with a smile.
“Hi everyone,” he greets the class. “How are you doing? So, the deadline for your papers is Friday so I hope you’ve all sent me your drafts in case you want me to read them.” He can’t help but let his eyes wander to where Kurt is sitting. “Unless there were any reasons to hand them in late.”
Kurt blinks really quickly at the sudden eye contact, and lets out a nervous laugh.
And Blaine realizes he really totally cannot wait a whole month to get answers to his questions.
Before he can stop himself, he adds, “Everyone with extensions on their papers, please come see me after class.”
Of course, that’s just Kurt, but the class won’t know. Okay, Rachel might know, seeing as she elbows Kurt so hard it almost sends him flying off his seat. Kurt almost doesn’t seem to notice it as he’s busy staring at Blaine with a bit of a twitch in his eye.
Blaine suppresses a groan. This isn’t the plan. What is he doing?
-
“Blaine, I am so sorry!” Kurt exclaims in misery when the rest of the students slip away after class is over.
He’s beyond glad that Blaine didn’t make him sing any of his pieces today because apart from already being nervous whenever Blaine does ask him to do that, today his anxiety probably would have been the final straw. He might have run off or broken out into tears in front of everyone.
Blaine looks at him with a small smile. “You’ve got nothing to apologize.”
“Uh, yes, I do,” Kurt says stubbornly. He’s beyond mortified; the least Blaine can do is let him apologize properly. “I really didn’t mean to-”
“Oh.” Blaine looks down on the pile of sheet music he was stacking. “Yeah, right. Uhm, seriously though, I know how bad pain killers can be, I don’t blame you for-”
“Oh thank god, you know it was the pain meds,” Kurt breathes out in relief. “I was afraid you’d think-”
“No worries,” Blaine cuts him off. “It’s alright if you didn’t mean any of it.”
Kurt hesitates for a second, and gulps as he takes in Blaine’s slightly shaky hand movement as he stuffs the sheet music into his messenger bag.
“If…?” he asks quietly.
“I mean that,” Blaine says, eyebrows furrowing slightly. “Sorry, that, of course.”
Kurt’s at a loss. He’s getting mixed signals, and just judging by the last bit of the exchange – if that was the only thing that had happened, his stupid email and the fact that Blaine is his freaking TA forgotten – he might even be encouraged to inquire further.
But he can’t just admit to meaning all of it, right?
He settles for the safer topic. “So you wanted to speak to me about my paper?” he asks.
“Uh, yes.” Blaine smiles, though he still looks distracted. “I just wanted to ask you whether you had any questions about the material since you couldn’t join us for the last two sessions.”
“I…” Kurt shakes his head. “No, I think I’ve got it covered. Rachel caught me up.”
“Alright. Well, if you have any questions, you can send me an email.”
“Or not,” Kurt says quickly. “I think I’m swearing off emails for a while.”
Blaine laughs, the sound warm and pleasant in Kurt’s ear.
“Right,” he says. “I know this is a bit awkward but… it could have been worse. You could have written that to Mme Tibideaux or Miss July.”
Kurt is so relieved that Blaine is able to joke about it that he replies with a mindless, “Yeah, except I wouldn’t have told them I liked them, so…”
Blaine gapes at him, and Kurt realizes a second to late what he’s implying yet again.
“Oh,” Blaine says. “I, uh-”
“I’ve got to go,” Kurt cuts in, ears burning. “Can I go?”
“Uh, uhm, well, yeah, of course,” Blaine stutters.
As Kurt turns around and gathers his stuff, he can hear Blaine mutter something to himself. Kurt’s almost out the door, when Blaine calls out, “Kurt?”
Kurt turns around gingerly. “Yeah?”
“I really didn’t mind.”
“Okay...”
“Like, really really.”
Kurt wants to scream, But what does that mean?! Instead, he takes a deep breath, collects his thoughts, and says, “Okay… see you in improv, I guess?”
Blaine nods quickly. “Yeah. Later, Kurt.”
“Later, Blaine.”
-
Blaine is early to improv class, even though it’s all the way across campus. But he didn’t stop for his usual coffee, grabbed a salad to-go instead of lunch with his friends from his dorm, and also maybe, possibly hurried to get to class because Kurt is usually early to everything.
Blaine is the first to arrive, though, so he grabs his usual seat and gets out his salad. He’s about to slice the egg when he hears Kurt’s voice from outside the classroom.
“Talk to you later, Rachel.”
“Okay. And, Kurt, remember to ask-”
“Bye now!”
As soon as Kurt’s through the door, his eyes land on Blaine and he freezes.
“Uh, hi,” he says. His cheeks are slightly red, probably from the cold weather outside. “You’re – uhm, early.”
“Yeah.” Blaine looks down briefly, willing himself to just go for it this time. “I wanted to talk to you.”
“Again?” Kurt bites his lip. “I thought-”
“Kurt, when I said yes in the email, I meant yes to both.”
“Both?” Kurt frowns. “I don’t-”
“Both questions. Or requests, I guess.”
Kurt’s eyes widen. “You mean…”
“Yeah, I mean,” Blaine says with as much conviction as possible. “At first, I didn’t want to say anything because, you know, TA and all, but… seeing you in class, knowing, or well, hoping that you meant it, and… I don’t know, I couldn’t wait those four weeks until the semester is over. So I asked you to stay after class but then that felt super shady, too, so… I don’t even really know what I’m doing right now.”
“Do you know what you’re saying, though?” Kurt asks breathlessly.
“Well…” Blaine can’t suppress a grin. “Unlike some people, I’m not on pain meds right now, so, yeah, I’m pretty sure I have full control over my words.”
Kurt glares at him but it’s mostly façade, especially considering he’s still looking like Christmas came a bit early this year, and Blaine… well, Blaine is floored at the thought of being the one to actually make him look like that.
“Well, apparently those pain meds at least made me confess something neither of us could admit to sober, so…”
“Hey, for the record,” Blaine says, getting up to stand in front of Kurt, “I fully intended to ask you out once the semester was over.”
Kurt’s eyes are locked on Blaine with sheer intensity, and Blaine isn’t proud to admit it makes his knees a bit weak.
“Really?” Kurt asks, clearly intrigued, then sighs. “So my email was completely unnecessary.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” Blaine says. “I got so many laughs out of it.”
“Oh god, shut up.”
“No, I mean, it – eggstension?” Blaine chuckles. “Wisdom teat? There were some good ones there.”
“What part of shut up-”
Waiting really isn’t Blaine’s strong suit, he realizes, as he leans in to kiss Kurt, four weeks too early to be completely professional, yet about half a year too late considering how long he’s had his eye on him.
Kurt’s protest is muffled against Blaine’s lips, and dies down completely once they press closer together to get better access. They part for air briefly, and Kurt whispers, “When I got up this morning, I would have sworn this would be the last thing I’d ever say, but I’m pretty proud of myself for writing that email now.”
Blaine licks his bottom lip, chasing the faint taste of Kurt there. “I’m glad you wrote it, too.” This whole thing between them has lasted about a minute but he wants more so badly he feels like he’s physically incapable from drawing Kurt back in and kissing him again.
They keep at it until other students start to trickle into the room, and even then they share meaningful glances and press their ankles together between their chairs.
Between all the talking and kissing, Blaine didn’t get to eat his salad, so about halfway through the lecture, his stomach starts growling.
Kurt turns to him with a grin. “Forgot to eat?”
“I guess I was distracted.”
“Hm, by what, I wonder?” Kurt asks cheekily.
Blaine eyes his untouched salad in amusement. “I guess I got pretty egg-sited over this boy I like.”
It’s totally worth all the frustrated elbowing he gets in response.
#a-simple-rainbow#klaine fic#klaine#klaine fanfic#klaine AU#klaine prompt#my klaine fics#THIS IS SO SILLY YET AGAIN#I'M SORRY RAINBOW I APPARENTLY CAN'T WRITE NON-SILLY ANYMORE#but shhh Blaine really loves puns - pass it on#(there might be typos too - they're all unintentional unless they are part of Kurt's email :P)
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I Found Out I Had Asperger’s at 33
http://fashion-trendin.com/i-found-out-i-had-aspergers-at-33/
I Found Out I Had Asperger’s at 33
Those with Asperger syndrome are said to sit on the “high-functioning” end of the autism spectrum. While all subtypes of autism are now technically folded into a single diagnosis (autism spectrum disorder, or ASD), the breadth of the spectrum means living with ASD looks different for everyone.
Taylor was diagnosed with Asperger’s as an adult. The process of reflecting on her life and seeing herself through a new lens has been both scary and enlightening. When I got her on the phone to hear what that’s been like, she was chatty and friendly; I detected none of the bluntness she told me she has to keep in check.
Such are the subtleties of the Asperger’s experience — and it’s why I asked Taylor to share hers. Below is her as-told-to story. –Haley Nahman
Being diagnosed
I didn’t know that I had Asperger’s until a year ago. I was 33 when I was diagnosed. It was a long process. I think being diagnosed as an adult is a very strange experience, but it was also a massive relief. As a kid, I suffered from anxiety, but doctors diagnosed me with depression and stuffed me with drugs. Now when I look back, I think I was just struggling with Asperger’s and struggling to communicate with people.
Throughout my life, I tried to mask my social anxiety and social shortcomings by being outgoing and funny — but funny in a kind of offensive way. It sometimes made people laugh, but it also sometimes made people say that I was too much. I’ve always had a strange relationship with people and the way I communicate with them. I’m very blunt; I say whatever is on my mind. A lot of people don’t like that; they prefer the sugarcoated pleasantries. I remember during one of my first jobs in media, I was asked by my boss to add smiley faces and exclamation points to my emails because I sounded so mean in them.
I moved to Berlin in 2013. That was an interesting experience because not only was I dealing with new people, but also a new culture. German people are stereotypically very blunt, as well; they’re not big into small talk [like Americans]. In that way, it was nice for me because I felt a little more normal. But two years ago, I started getting really depressed. I was having a lot of trouble making new friends. Berlin is a very transient city, so I would meet new people and they’d move away. My friend group would fluctuate a lot, and I got to a point where I had only a handful of friends, if that.
I was super-lonely. I got really depressed thinking people didn’t invite me out because they didn’t like me, so I started looking at how I am with people and how I communicate with them. I started reading a bunch of things online, and, like any good digital native, I self-diagnosed myself on the internet. I took an online Asperger’s test and it indicated I was on the spectrum. But I thought, Okay, whatever, it’s just the internet.
Then my depression got worse, and my sister, who lives in New York, finally suggested I go talk to someone. I found a psychologist and met with her and said, “I took this Asperger’s test online and it’s probably stupid…” And she said, “Not at all — you actually have a lot of the symptoms. Let’s dive deeper into it and find out.”
The [official] test is on the computer, combined with talking to someone in person and problem-solving and stuff. It’s kind of similar to the Myers-Briggs test — that was actually a component to it, as well. Mine, INTJ, turned out to be very prone to Asperger’s. The therapist gave me a lot of literature, and we kind of went on this journey together of figuring out what it means for me as an adult. It’s been scary but also such a relief.
How it feels
It’s hard for me to explain what it feels like because I can’t speak to other people’s experiences. The spectrum is massive. Different people are plotted along it in different ways. I have a cousin who is low-functioning — he’ll never be able to live on his own — whereas I am high-functioning and you wouldn’t necessarily know I have Asperger’s if I didn’t tell you. Everyone has different quirks and different ticks.
I do think there are key commonalities, though. For one, we process information differently. For example, today was a really hard day for me because my boss sent me a two-sentence email. I had to read it 20 times, say it out loud and write it down to understand it. I was so overwhelmed I actually had to step outside for a little while. I couldn’t process this one sentence that said, “Add links to the document below and draft an email and send it.” I finally had to ask my coworker, “What does this mean?” It took me 20 minutes to figure out. The email was simple.
I think for a lot of neurotypical people, it’s much easier to pick up on tone of voice, body language or other nonverbal cues and know what they mean, whereas people with Asperger’s have trouble with that. Someone may say something to me that is bitingly sarcastic and I might leave with the impression that they’re very genuine. It’s hard. Sometimes my boyfriend will have to remind me when something’s a joke.
My brain just never feels fully comfortable. People think I’m being rude when I ask a question like, “Can you repeat yourself?” But it’s not that I’m not listening or meaning to be impolite — my brain just didn’t process what they said. It’s hard to describe how it feels exactly because other brains cannot grasp the way that my brain works. I tell people, “I don’t pick up on body language” or “I can’t look people in the eye” or “I don’t like being touched” because those things are relatable, but there are processing things that are harder to explain.
For example, your boss might send you an email saying, “Hey, I need this article finished by the end of the day,” and you would think, Okay, cool. I know exactly what she’s talking about. Whereas for me, my first thought is, Is this person angry at me? Followed by What article is she talking about? and What does she mean by finished? What if she’s not happy with it? Should I write two different versions just in case? What if they’re not the right two versions?
There’s a lot of overthinking, there’s a lot of overcomplicating. Nothing ever feels simple. I can’t trust my thoughts. I don’t think people quite understand how easy it is for neurotypical people to process information. It can be really crippling for people with Asperger’s.
I have to remind myself to smile. Even with my boyfriend sometimes, he’ll get really flustered. Sometimes I’ll think I’m being really cheeky and funny and playful, and he’ll get upset because it’s just not translating. And I’ll have to say, “I’m trying to not be too blunt! I’m trying to be subtle.” Reading people’s social cues is a tough one.
Another thing with people on the spectrum is sensory overload. Often you hear about people on the spectrum who can’t be around too many lights and sounds — mine is smell. It’s really weird. I like to know ahead of time if I’m going to be somewhere where there might be overpowering smells because they might rile me up and make me really uncomfortable.
Living with it
My entire life, I never felt like a normal person. In high school, I wasn’t unpopular — I had a lot of different social groups I hung out with — but everyone I was friends with always told me, “You’re really weird, you’re really loud, you’re really this,” etc. So I never felt that anyone really liked me. My impression was more that they just put up with me. In hindsight, I know people did like me because I have friends from childhood I’m still close with, but that’s how I felt.
My best friends now know that I have Asperger’s and can pick up on when I’m struggling. It’s helpful to have people who understand my triggers so they can give me space and give me what I need. My friends will sometimes say, “Do you just need to go outside for a minute?” They know to be supportive.
Now that I know I have trouble processing, I have even more trouble with people who are not to the point and tell me [excess] information. I cut people off because I’m either taking too long to process what they said or I’ve already processed it and I’ve gotten the most information I could possibly need out of that sentence and I’m done. I have to just shut it down sometimes.
I live in England currently, and the cultural stereotype here is to be nice and polite even if you’re pissed off, so that’s something [else] I struggle with. I try to stop before I say things and make myself say them in a nice way, which feels very unnatural.
For a while after I found out, I was worried about telling people because I didn’t know that much about it. If I said I had [Asperger’s], people immediately asked what it was or responded that they’d seen a special on BBC or something. And I’d think, You have no idea. I even made my boyfriend read so much stuff, and he’s still having a hard time understanding it. My parents would say, “You don’t have Asperger’s” because they didn’t see it. It’s taken them a while to understand it.
I think now, though, I just address it head-on. If I think someone is confused or I get the sense that they think I’m being weird, I just tell them. Sometimes I also say it up front so people know. Where I work now, I made the decision to tell them from the very beginning of the interview process. It’s funny because everyone there said, “I’m fairly certain this is the perfect place for you because all the processes that we have in the office are fairly Asperger’s-friendly.” And that just means no bullshit. They don’t want fluff. Just straightforward stuff. We’re not allowed to use Powerpoint — we just use Word documents, and that’s ideal for me because I’m able to just get things out and not have to worry about pleasantries. They like when people push back and say what they mean, too. It’s been a really good environment.
There is no treatment, just awareness. I’m still navigating it all. A lot of it is reading literature and reading about other people’s experiences as well as learning from your own experiences. You can’t be embarrassed about it. All you can do is learn more and grow with it. The diagnosis has changed the way I think about myself. I think it’s empowered me. It’s made me like myself more because when you’re constantly told by people that you’re a bitch or too blunt or too whatever, it doesn’t make you feel good. My whole life, I’ve struggled with how I’ve interacted with people, and now I finally have an answer. I’m not ashamed of it.
Collages by Emily Zirimis.
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Fic progress under the cut; rough draft and only about 1/4 of the way into the story
"Jeremy, I can't thank you enough for agreeing to be my best man."
The blonde smiled at Coltrane, as the two walked from the botanical garden where the wedding was taking place to the church hall across the street where the maid of honor was currently organizing for the weekend's events. A large portion of Danville was coming out to celebrate Stacy and Coltrane's wedding, including Jeremy Johnson, who flew all the way in from Toronto, as his band The Incidentals were incredibly popular in Canada, yet not so main stream in their country of origin. "Coltrane, I'm seriously honored that you even asked. I'm more than happy to be here."
They had crossed the street at this point, now making their way down the gravel driveway towards the wooden doors. "So, before I let you head in there, I gotta warn you," Coltrane's voice was tense, and uneven. "The maid of honor is also the wedding planner. And she's kinda been doing everything single handedly. So she's been kind of snappy. Just know that she's stressed."
Jeremy nodded, taking in the groom-to-be's words. As Coltrane excused himself to make an appearance for Stacy's cousins who had just flown in from Tokyo, Jeremy pushed open the door, taking in a deep breath.
He was told that the maid of honor was in the church hall organizing. What he saw upon entering was the opposite of organization. Sure, it was Friday morning and the wedding itself wasn't until Saturday evening, but it looked like more than a day's - or even a week's - work was needed. At first, he wasn't even entirely sure that this elusive woman was even in the building. But in the distance he heard the sound of a high pitched voice, so he rounded the corner, following it.
"I know your busy but you told me you could-" as he found the source, his breath hitched "-and what about...? Right right, Camp David, I know, but..." he was having a hard time processing it all. Why didn't Coltrane tell him? "Okay. Okay. I just...I get it. Sorry Phineas. I'll call you soon. Bye."
He shouldn't have been so shocked. After all, who else would Stacy have chosen as her maid of honor? "C-Candace?"
The redhead didn't even look up from her phone as she opened a document and started avidly taking notes. Her voice was authoritative and unusually cold and even "Oh good, Jeremy, you're here. Do me a favor and start laminating the place cards."
"You...were expecting me?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. He certainly wasn't expecting to see her today.
This time Candace did look up as she answered "Of course. I single handedly organized this whole wedding. I made your place card. And assigned your seat for the reception."
Oh. Right. He'd forgotten about that. As Candace continued to mill about around him, he voiced "Right. So um, how've you been?"
"Busy. I've been single handedly planning a wedding." she deadpanned.
Jeremy couldn't help but let out a light chuckle "I, uh, kind of meant in your life in general." he paused, with a sigh. And he looked at her. Really looked at her, for the first time since he'd walked into the room. Somehow, she was more beautiful then he'd remembered. "I've missed you, you know."
Walking away from him, back turned and hands in the air "And I miss having time to myself before I offered to commandeer this whole weekend but I guess we all have regrets. If you do regret it, that is."
Candace couldn't bring herself to look at him, especially after hearing nothing but a deep sigh and the sound of his fingers running through his hair. "Candace..."
"No." she interrupted. "I have too much on my plate. I can't do this right now. Forget I even brought it up."
"I'm not going to-"
Candace cut him off, sticking a finger in his face as she repeated "Forget. I. Brought. It. Up. And I asked you to laminate the rest of the place cards for me."
Jeremy didn't argue this time. He'd already upset her enough the last time he'd seen her, he didn't need to put her through that a second time. "Can you show me how to work the laminator?"
And for the first time since he'd walked in, the Candace Flynn he'd fallen in love with eleven years ago cracked through the concrete exterior she'd built up as she smirked "Do they not teach you big famous rockstars how to use basic office equipment?"
With a genuine chuckle and a shake of his head, he honestly answered "No, no they don't."
Candace let out a small laugh, and in that moment, it was the brightest, warmest sound Jeremy had ever heard. "So you see this plastic bit?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow as she held it up."You put the place cards inside of it. Make sure it's tight, with no air bubbles, and then put it through the machine, sealed end first. Got it?"
Jeremy nodded, but gave a sheepish answer of "I think so, but could you just do one first so I know for sure that I'm doing it right? I don't want to screw it up and end up giving you even more work to do..."
The redhead never gave him a verbal answer. Instead, she walked over, and began the process for the place card reading Ginger Hirano. As she fed the card into the machine, she questioned "Think you can handle that?"
"I think I can." he smiled at her, warmly. "And if you need me to do anything else before I get these done just let me know. I'm at your disposal this weekend."
Candace felt her heart give a squeeze, and she reasoned that his smile was always going to have that power over her. "Thank you." her voice was warm, and genuine, and to Jeremy's confusion, sounded slightly bewildered. "I really do appreciate you helping me."
He bit his tongue, as the automatic response of 'You know I'd do anything for you' was threatening to force it's way out. He wasn't about to force her into that conversation today. She had a lot going on, he didn't dare be the straw to break the camel's back. "I'm happy to." he answered instead. "If there's anything you need please don't hold off on asking."
Candace was still looking at him, her mouth only slightly agape, as if she was going to say something. There was a brief moment of hesitation, but in that moment, to Candace Flynn, that moment felt like an eternity. She decided to listen to her voice of reason, closing her mouth, and offering nothing more than a polite nod as she silently turned away from him to tend to the next item on her checklist.
The rest of the afternoon passed surprisingly quickly. Jeremy barely heard from Candace, save for when she was delegating more tasks onto him. Before he knew it, it was 5PM, and Candace had walked back over to where he was working. Tenderly, she place a hand on his shoulder, to signify her presence, before telling him. "I've got a lot more work to do tonight, was about to order a pizza and get back to it, but you can head out now if you'd like."
Jeremy paused, turning his head slightly to look up at her. She was tired, the exhaustion was etched all over her face. With a soft smile he offered "I like pizza. And I don't mind staying."
"You don't have to-" Candace began to protest
She was stopped short as Jeremy raised a hand to cover the one that was still resting on his shoulder "I want to."
Candace spent a moment silent, unmoving, save for an odd blink, before giving the blonde a tired smile "Thanks."
And with that, she turned, heading back to work on the next thing on her list until the pizza got there 45 minutes later. As the tables were still overrunning with half completed wedding decorations, the two sat on the floor, eating their cheesy confectionery off of paper plates. "I thought you were lactose intolerant." Jeremy commented as he took the second bite of his slice.
"I am." Candace replied with a mouthful of pizza. "But I can handle a little bit of a stomach ache for a little bit of cheese. And I was really craving pizza after these last few weeks."
Jeremy let out a light hum, before asking "You know what this reminds me of?"
"The other Danville pizza places?" Candace asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Not the pizza." Jeremy paused, a dream like smile casting over his features as he recounted "The first night in the apartment we rented. We didn't have a kitchen table yet, and hadn't been grocery shopping..."
"...so we sat on the couch and ate pizza." Candace finished for him.
"Yeah," Jeremy smiled happily. "I miss our old place. Toronto's nice and all, but..." he trailed off, eyeing his pizza instead of Candace. His apartment in Canada was just that - his apartment. But living with Candace? That was home.
"I still live there, actually." Candace informed him. It came as a shock to him. He supposed it made sense, after all, Candace was still actively living in Danville when he left. Nothing in her life changed, other than his absence. He had just always assumed that when he left, the whole life they had built together disappeared. He was realizing now that he shouldn't have been so naive. "You could swing by sometime if you wanted." she added "If you have time before you head back. Visit the old stomping grounds."
"Yeah?" Jeremy's voice was genuinely enthusiastic "I'd like that. I'll let you know ahead of time, of course. In case your new boyfriend catches you bringing an ex home, or something." he joked, laughing softly to himself before taking a bite of his pizza crust.
Candace snorted in laughter before informing him "You won't have to worry about that. Just the millions of teenage girls who'll start attacking my social media if we're seen together."
"Only the Canadian press cares about me," he chuckled "So I think we'll be fine."
The smile Candace casted at him was warm as she replied "Good, I'm glad."
Saturday morning rolled around and Jeremy Johnson was as bright and chipper as one could be. At 8AM he and Candace had nine more hours to put together the wedding for their best friends. He'd gotten himself a coffee, and while he had texted Candace asking her if she wanted one, he didn't receive an answer. Even though he still knew her order by heart, he didn't dare become presumptuous and get her something without asking. Her old regular order may have changed, after all. So with one half consumed coffee in his hand, he walked into the church hall with a happy song in his head.
He was almost knocked straight out of that mindset when he saw the inside of the hall. The amount of work that had been done since he'd last walked in...granted, he and Candace had spent the better part of fourteen hours getting things done yesterday, and heaven only knew what time Candace had come back that morning.
"Oh thank god," Candace had gasped as soon as she heard the door open. "We've got to kick it into high gear."
Jeremy had let out a slight chuckle "I mean, yeah there's still stuff to do and there's a bit of a time crunch but we did so much in 14 hours yesterday, I'm sure we can get everything else done in nine hours."
"Nine hours?!" Candace's eyes might have popped out of her head. "The wedding is in nine hours. On top of all this I've still got to set up the caterer and the band and the florist and not to mention do my hair and makeup and get dressed..."
With each word, Candace's voice got higher and her breathing got more and more ragged. Her limbs were shaking, and her face was turning red. Jeremy immediately dropped his coffee - he'd seen this before. With both hands now free, he took both of her hands into his, speaking quickly to gain her full intention "Candace, Candace...Candace look at me, okay? Are you looking at me? Just take a breath. Just take a deep, deep breath..." she did, and a small smile found it's way onto Jeremy's face. "It's alright, it's alright..." his voice was slower now, more soothing "Are you alright?" Candace nodded, but didn't say anything. "Are you okay?" Jeremy pressed. "Can you tell me you're okay?"
Candace nodded again, this time letting out a weak "Yeah, I'm okay." she paused, swallowing the lump in her throat. "Thank you."
"Hey," Jeremy smiled warmly, now stroking one of his thumbs against the back of her hand "I'm here to help you, with everything. Not just the wedding stuff."
She nodded again, taking in his words and feeling very overwhelmed. As he let go of her hands, her mouth began speaking without her mind's consent "J-Jeremy?"
His eyes widened as he asked "Yeah?"
And much like the morning before - it was like she was going to say something. Something of importance. Whatever was threatening to spill out had more than a little weight to it. But just like the morning before, Candace stopped herself. "Nothing, never mind." she mumbled. "It's not important." Jeremy had opened his mouth to argue, but was cut off by Candace instructing "They only thing we should be talking or thinking about right now is the wedding."
Jeremy nodded "What task do you have to delegate to me, then?" he asked warmly.
"You could start by picking your coffee off the floor." she offered with a halfhearted laugh. But there was a sort of twinkle in her eye that hadn't been there before, and Jeremy felt like maybe, just maybe, things were going to work out for the better.
And then before either of them realized it, it was seven and a half hours later, and everything was done. As the two stood standing outside the building, gazing out across the street to where everything for the wedding was already set up, Candace voiced "I can't believe we did it."
Jeremy turned from his view of the garden to look at the woman standing next to him "Are you kidding? You're Candace Flynn. You can do anything. I bet you didn't even need my help."
Candace's cheeks went red before she turned to look at Jeremy. "I know you're trying to boost my self confidence and everything, but I literally could not have done this today without you. So, thank you."
The blonde's eyes traveled back to the botanical garden for a moment, and then reached the redhead once more. "Can I be entirely honest with you about something?"
"I swear to god if you say you didn't glue something properly or that the laminates were coming out cold or..."
"No no, nothing like that!" he let out a light chuckle, before clearing his throat and continuing, more seriously. "I really don't know why you ever doubted yourself."
Candace's eyes moved from his to stare out at the garden, none of the guests had arrived yet, but the florist and her team were milling about with some final touch ups. "I've been planning this wedding for six months, on top of my job, on top of law school, on top of..." she paused, and then sighed "...other things. You only saw the tail end of it. It was...a lot."
Jeremy nodded, though he didn't quite understand, but he most certainly didn't want to pry, either. "I can appreciate that. It's just..." he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. Somehow - being back in Danville - talking to Candace - made him all feel like the sixteen year old boy who was trying to catch her attention while stuck in his goofy Mr. Slushy Burger uniform. "...you're the most remarkable person I know. If anyone else told me they were going to single handedly put together a wedding in six months, I'd never believe them. But you?"
Candace was finally looking at him. "Jere-"
"No no let me finish." he argued, taking her hands in his, though he wasn't quite sure why. "You're the most ambitious, driven person I know. You could do absolutely anything you ever put your mind to. You're...astounding. And I really don't know why you ever doubted yourself. I mean...look at what you did here!"
"Well I wasn't alone, you know." she replied sheepishly, eyes intently focused on the fact that his hands were holding hers. "You did help a lot..."
"A trained monkey could do what I did." he chuckled. "You just needed an extra set of hands. But this, it was all you Candace. You should be so proud of yourself."
Candace's eyes finally darted up to meet his "Why are you saying all this?"
"Because it's true!" he exclaimed enthusiastically. "And you deserve to know that truth. Candace Flynn, you are the single most amazing person..." his voice trailed, becoming softer "...the most, exquisite human being..." he didn't even entirely register how close to her face he was getting "...that I've ever met."
Her lips were just as soft as he remembered, but he did forget just how weak in the knees she could make him. It was short and chaste enough that it didn't give her a chance to reciprocate - and as he pulled away he realized that if she hadn't reciprocated he may have shattered. This wasn't the reignition of an old spark - it was adding more kindle to eternal burning flame. "C-Candace..." he stuttered out after "I...I didn't mean to...I mean, I know I just got back and..."
Candace's kiss had been the opposite of his. While he'd been soft, and gentle, and unsure, Candace was kissing him with an utmost certainty. An utmost urgency. Her kiss was deliberate, and firm, and when she broke it, he just couldn't help himself. His lips may have detached from hers, but they were now moving down her long neck with the weight of a feather. Her fingers gripping the overgrown toughs of his hair was the most nostalgic, reassuring feeling in the world. "Jer-Jeremy..." she gasped "There's something I have to tell you..."
He'd detached himself long enough to look her in the eyes, but not quickly enough to say anything before being cut off by the voice of Vanessa Doofenshmirtz. "Candace!" she called, as she began crossing the street - a child no older than six in a puffy blue dress hoisted up to lean on her shoulder. As Vanessa met the pair on the other side, she set the child down "Someone saw you and wanted to come say hello..." And suddenly, Vanessa almost froze. "Oh, uh..."
Candace seemed to understand the brunette's sudden hesitation, which only served to confuse Jeremy more. "Listen, it's fine..."
"I'm really sorry..." Vanessa offered again.
Candace had stooped down, explaining to Vanessa "I just haven't had a chance yet...but now's a good of time as any." Jeremy quirked an eyebrow in Vanessa's direction as if to ask what was going on, but became distracted as Candace outstretched her arms and the child willfully ran into them. "Hey sweetie," Candace cooed "I'm so sorry I've been so busy. Have you been having fun with Vanessa?"
The child nodded, and then pointed at Jeremy "Who's that?"
Candace stood up, the girl still in her arms. Vanessa shot her a concerned look which Jeremy still didn't understand. "This is Jeremy. Can we say hi to Jeremy, Amanda?"
The little girl let out a small "Hi." with a sheepish wave.
Jeremy waved back, crouching down a little to meet her eyes "Amanda, is it? Well it's very nice to meet you."
"Jeremy is an old friend of mommy's." Candace explained. "He's been helping me with Aunt Stacy's wedding."
"Aunt Stacy?" Jeremy questioned, raising an eyebrow.
"Not really sisters!" Amanda chirped. "Not like Uncle Phineas and Uncle Ferbed...right mommy?"
Candace chuckled lightly, rubbing her nose against Amanda's, "That's right sweetie." she then turned her head back towards Jeremy "Five years old and still can't say Ferb, but we're working on it." Her expression became more sheepish, and her voice was quieter as she explained "This...is what I wanted to tell you. On top of school and work, I have Amanda. I'm a mom now."
"Wow." Jeremy was at a loss. Candace was a mom? He could barely commit to a roommate and here she was, raising her child. "C-congratulations. I'm really happy for you."
Candace let out a small "Thanks." and nothing more.
It was quiet, almost uneasily, before Vanessa cleared her throat. "Amanda, do you wanna come with me and we'll take some pictures? Mommy still needs to get a few things ready."
As Candace passed Amanda onto Vanessa, and the brunette and the five year old were crossing the street once more, Jeremy looked back to Candace "That...might have been good information to have before I kissed you."
"I wanted to tell you." Candace tried.
Jeremy nodded "I know, I know. And it's not your fault. I shouldn't have assumed..." he paused, as his intended ending to the sentence was 'that you'd wait for me.', and he was already in a much more complicated situation than he would've liked "...anything." he finished lamely.
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