#i do it even on my own posts! the tags r a place to chat :) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

teaveetamer · 2 years ago

Note

I am curious, I've been watching the discourse going on for a bit without getting involved and at this point I feel like I have to ask.

What is the desired result here? Why are you engaging in the discourse at all? Clearly this is not a discussion, so what do you gain from interacting at all?

(I will send this to several people, just out of curiosity)

Alright anon allow me to explain what's been going on with me on my end.

The year is 2019 (yes, we're doing this). FE3H has just come out. I play it and rather enjoy it actually. I've got a couple of ships that I'm into, some fanfic I want to write, etc.

I go onto Reddit to chat with people about the game. Now I don't really like Edelgard, but I'm chill, I'm open to discussing the game and getting alternate viewpoints. Initially it's more or less fine.

Then some posts start coming up. People start getting really aggressive about this. I'm trying to have a conversation, but it feels like their goal is just to shout me down. I get in arguments, I get in fights, I get misgendered, I get called a bigot, I get frustrated, I get ablest rhetoric spewed at me, and I waste my life.

Stop. Take a look at myself. I'm literally sitting here arguing about Edelgard von fucking Hresvelg for hours of my day. I'm annoyed, I'm irritated, I'm always in a bad mood. Ugh.

Now it's 2020, early times I think. I resolve to stop looking at Reddit so much with regard to this game. It's not worth the hassle and the frustration. I should be, like, out doing things and having fun not wasting my time arguing with a bunch of weirdos on the internet. I want to have fun again, not be angry. I delete the Reddit app from my phone and install a blocker on my web browsers, even.

Start using Tumblr for more than just shippy stuff, and find people who agree with me, who are saying the things I've been saying. I stop feeling crazy for liking the game the way I like it. I make a few posts on my main blog but you know what, I don't really want my main blog embroiled in this shit, though I want to add my voice to the conversation. So I make this side blog.

Make some posts. I get flooded with asks from other people about the game, saying they agree with me and they're thankful that they aren't the only ones who think the way I do. I think within like a month of existing this blog had double the posts of my main blog (which has existed since 2016, so for four years at that point), most of them from asks.

The blog was initially for me to vent and throw in my two cents here and there, but I figure I'll keep it around in regular use because people seem to be benefiting from it.

Early on I tried to establish a rule for myself that 1) I wasn't going to go looking in any main tags (e.g. the Edelgard or Edelgard Positive tags) for stuff to reblog or talk about, and 2) I wasn't going to go into any Edelgard specific spaces looking for stuff to talk about (e.g. r/Edelgard or even Dimitri-critical tags). However, anything maintagged that was looking for a fight (e.g. a Dimitri-critical post in the main Dimitri tag) was fair game.

I'm not perfect, but I did try to stick to that rule. I talked about things that happened on the main FE Sub or FEH sub. I did my best to encourage my anons to not go seeking out stuff to bring back to me from Edelgard spaces. After all, this blog was meant for venting and having my own personal space where I could talk about my views without getting accosted. I thought it would be petty for me to go bring back stuff from other places.

Moving into 2021, I was kind of done with 3H. I was still getting like dozens of asks a day about 3H discourse. I'd answer one and five more would pop up in their place. By now we're like, well beyond 3x or 4x the amount of posts I have on my main blog. I'm getting kind of tired of it. It's a lot of the same points over and over and over. We're in pandemic times, so I can't even walk away from it and do something else IRL for a while before coming back to it. I feel like I'm wasting my life again. I feel like I've said anything and everything I could have possibly said about the subject. I ask people to stop talking to me about Edelgard. Eventually, everyone mostly obliges.

I still chat about it here and there, but I'm chatting about other stuff too. This blog is still about venting just about venting about more than 3H. A lot more petty fandom shit in general.

Now we're in, like, 2022. I don't remember exactly, Pandemic Time makes some of this a bit of a blur. I notice a new kid on the block, doing basically what I'd noticed happening on Reddit. Going into the wrong tags. Picking fights. Posting things in the wrong tags. Picking fights.

I'm over it, I'm done, I don't want to deal with this shit anymore. I block the dude. Most people I know block the dude or ignore him. We figure he's new here, he just hasn't learned the etiquette.

He gets increasingly hostile. I'm not really paying that much attention, just getting info about it from the fringes. Again, we figure eventually he'll just go away if we ignore him.

Then Nilsh gets harassed off the platform.

My mutuals are getting increasingly hostile anons and combative reblogs.

At this point I'm relatively unaffected. I guess because I don't tag anything, so he didn't find it.

And you know what? I'm still like "he'll get bored. He'll leave eventually." We were all like "just ignore him, he'll leave eventually."

People try to explain tags to him. Try to help him curate his experience so he quits arguing with people who don't want to talk to him all the time.

Then Moonlitboar gets harassed off of the platform. They take the URL. He's bragging about having done it. He's spreading this vitriol to other platforms and convincing others to join in on the harassment.

And I'm like. Okay. This dude isn't leaving. This is what he wants. His goal isn't to talk about this game—his goal is to hurt us.

I unblock him and respond. We go back and forth. He stops... for a time.

Here's the thing. I didn't re-block him after that, and I didn't do that for a couple of reasons. First, because at this point I'm still hopeful that he's just unaware of what he's doing, and that he'll acknowledge how messed up it was and apologize. I'm all for second chances. The second, because he's dangerous and I'm worried that if I don't keep tabs on him, he's going to try to hurt me.

It's not long until he's doing the same shit again. He tries harassing BWIIDT, he tries harassing FantasyInvader, he tries harassing Ezra, he tries harassing RandomNameless, he tries harassing Emblemxeno, he tries harassing Gascon, he tries harassing people I've literally never even heard of. I keep calling him out, and he tries harassing me. He calls me hysterical, accuses me of acting like a victim. Tries to make me feel stupid and small by saying I don't have anything worth his attention to respond to.

(By the way dude, my point about that was that you were being misogynistic but treating discourse like it was only worth responding to if it came from a man. See, I noticed that you only liked to attack people you thought were cishet white men like yourself, even if we were saying basically the same things at times. The fact that you continue not "debunking" any of my posts doesn't upset me; it proves my point)

He blocks me. I can't say for certain why, but my bet is that he realized people were actually listening to what I had to say, and having a queer woman question the actions he purported to be for the benefit of queer women wasn't a great look for him.

He's still trying to harass me. He's taking screenshots, he's using my name, he's @ ing me. He's casually lying about me. He's using sexist rhetoric implying that I shouldn't be listened to because I'm just too ~in my feelings~ and he's the true victim of my hysterical victimized martyr complex (geez, you sure a a feminist ally for that one, aren't you?)

You know, I did actual research when one of my anons accused him of being a trump supporter and tried to lie about him? I burned an entire evening on that, because I didn't want to be spreading lies about people. Meanwhile he lets his anons casually and repeatedly misgender me without so much as a passing correction, and he hangs out with people who spread lies and slander accusing others of heinous crimes.

And you know what? If I knew it was going to be like this? I'd still waste that evening and correct that anon. It's not about getting a petty win or convincing people he's a bad person for me. It's about being respected.

So to get back to your question. Why am I doing this? Because I have to. Because I know that if I don't he's going to hurt someone else, just like how he hurt Nilsh and Moonlitboar. The best predictor of future behavior is past behavior, after all. We ignored him and he didn't leave, so now we have to say something.

What's the desired result? I want to be respected, like I've tried to respect them for almost the entirety of this blog's existence. I want my boundaries acknowledged. I want him to stop hurting people for no other reason than to hurt them, because they don't agree with him.

When will I stop? When he stops.

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1kook · 4 years ago

Text

ZOOM CALL

⇢ meeting two

jeon jungkook x (f) reader

⇢ series masterlist

summary: Most notably, there’s one group project waiting for you, which leads you to Friday. Sitting at your desk, bright and early, absolutely dreading being assigned to your group. genre: fluff, slice of life, smut (tags tba) warnings: ITS A SLOW BURN OKAY...., sweetheart jk, campus crush jk, college crushes, social distancing, zoom -_-, jk owns a keroppi plush, oc thirsts over his hot bod, jk’s sweet attempts at flirting </3 he’s just 2 cute for his own good ratings: e for everyone <3 wc: 3.7k

notes: this took long bc i wrote one version but it was SO LAME u guys r lucky my friend and editor ( @kigurumu 🖤 ) stopped me from posting it. so then i had to reorganize my thoughts n b like girl. the ppl are waiting. get it together. anyway here’s zoom jk 😎

Being grouped with Jeon Jungkook (he/him) for your first class on the first day of your first Zoom semester truly sets the standard.

By no means do your other classes suck; they’re quite enjoyable, more relevant to your area of study. They’re familiar which makes them comfortable, your Zoom meetings filled with faces you’ve seen time and time again the last four years. The material interests you, so you definitely don’t have anything against them or your classmates.

That being said, no one is prepared for the awkwardness that comes with each and every Zoom meeting. You never thought you’d be embarrassed to turn your mic on— to speak in a class filled with your peers. And the meetings are all like that, filled with uncomfortable silences and endless black screens.

You wish there was a Jeon Jungkook (he/him) in every class.

Jungkook’s just got this bubbly aura to him, this magnetic presence that staples itself into the back of your mind with each passing day. No one fills a Zoom call like he does, making every person laugh and smile like him.

Wednesday rolls around and you find yourself a little disheartened when you don’t get sorted into the same randomized group as him again. Disappointment melts into annoyance when you find out how incompetent your other classmates are, refusing to speak in the small group or just completely clocking out all together. A lot of them didn’t do the reading— the one you stayed up all night doing —and your first partnered assignment of the semester finds you doing it all by yourself. Muted mics, black windows, complete radio silence; you hated it all.

You find yourself weirdly longing for Jeon Jungkook’s presence, even if he’s only there to talk about some movie he saw last night. No one is as much of a chatterbox as him, can’t even hold a candle to the way he draws everyone in with his mindless conversations. At least he speaks during Breakout Rooms, you think bitterly.

Anyway, the first week of classes ends and your brain is a frenzied mess. There’s schedules to memorize, professors to impress, assignments to plan out. There’s definitely no time to sit around and fantasize about the curly haired cutie in one of your general classes. The weekend is spent trying to organize your planner, filling in due dates and exam days ahead of time. It’s your last semester and you’re dead set on making it your best one yet. There’s a lot of written work this time around, analyses and research papers that need to be organized. The road ahead is manageable, but you’ll have to work hard to keep it that way for the next five months.

Most notably, there’s one group project waiting for you, which leads you to Friday. Sitting at your desk, bright and early, absolutely dreading being assigned to your group.

Jungkook is early this time, not like on Monday where he’d been one of the last to filter in, and he’s looking as chirpy as ever. Donning this horrendously hot pink shirt, completely unlike the neutral tones he’d worn during your last two meetings and that decorate his room, and the cutest pair of circle glasses sitting on his nose. He says his regularly scheduled ‘good morning’ to you all and receives a collective response from the rest of the class that not even your professor got.

Speaking of the professor, you’ve been giving him the stink eye this whole time. Not that he can tell, given the fact he’s probably miles away in his own home while you angrily glare at him through your webcam. It’s this old guy who’s decided to sort you all into semester long groups for the class, which is the absolute worst. These types of groups always go the same way: you make a group chat promising to study together, those plans fall through, and then everyone just leeches off of each other for homework answers. And in most cases, it’s you handing over your homework answers because no one else ever bothers to do anything. Sadly, it’s a routine you’ve had to suffer through many times in your academic career.

The thought makes you sick. Having to spend another semester being labeled as the bossy, nerdy dictator of the group? Not exactly how you wanted to spend the last few months of college, but there’s nothing you can do. Maybe this time around you’ll just let it be, won’t fight it (and by it, you mean your lazy classmates when they inevitably try to guilt trip you for homework) and simply let it run its course.

“I’m going to put you guys into Breakout Rooms with your new groups!” your professor claps excitedly, and then you and the rest of your classmates are forced to watch him lean too close to the camera as he begins clicking around to find the preset groups he’s assigned the class. “Remember, guys, this is it for the rest of the semester. So if something isn’t right, let me know by the end of today.”

Man, this was going to suck, you groan. The syllabus had said that the purpose of these groups was to keep you all connected with your classmates during these trying times, to give you the same opportunities in-person learning would. Frankly, you’re not too worried about making friends with everyone in this large class. Most of them are younger than you anyway, save for Jeon Jungkook (he/him) and a handful of others who are apparently in your year. Befriending lowerclassmen only to have to bid them adieu in a few months seems awfully sad, a little too heartbreaking. You really just want to get a good grade in this class, collect the last of your credits, and put this whole college experience behind you.

Your thoughts are wrapped up by the pop-up message that appears on screen.

The host is inviting you to join a Breakout Room: Group 12

You sigh, contemplate dropping this class for all of two seconds, before dutifully accepting the request. Worse comes to worst, you make up some lie to tell your professor that you’re allergic to group work and hope it works. (It won’t.)

You sit through the mandatory loading screen for a few seconds before being abruptly dumped into your new room, Group 12, or so the message had said. There’s no one else here yet, which isn’t really a surprise. A lot of your classmates are probably like you, scowling at the pop up message every time your professor sends you into small groups before accepting the request. So you chill by yourself, eyes tracing over your own mirrored image. The notes on last night’s reading are neatly laid out before you, your copy of the book off to the side.

Another beat and then, much to your surprise, Jeon Jungkook (he/him) is appearing in your room. “Oh,” he says, round eyes magnified by the thick lens of his glasses, the glare of the computer’s glow casting a funny shape across the lens that momentarily robs you of his pretty eyes. His pretty pink lips stretch into a smile, upper lip thinning out a bit when he flashes you those perfect teeth. “Hi, __,” he greets politely, bubbly.

It’s embarrassing how much his presence affects you, your back going ramrod straight in a terrible attempt to compose yourself. “Hi, Jungkook,” you manage to get out, fingers nervously reaching for something, anything, to ground yourself. They land on a pencil.

Jungkook doesn’t seem even the slightest bit aware of the commotion he causes within you. “I was really nervous for these groups,” he begins rambling right away, lips pushing down into an exaggerated frown as he shivers at the memory. “But I’m glad I got placed with someone hardworking like you!”

Despite how sweet he sounds, you’re not entirely sure if he’s buttering you up just to take advantage of your ‘hardworking’ attitude later down the road or if he’s genuinely being polite. The little information you know about Jungkook wants you to believe it is the latter; he’s very kind, sweet and nice in a way that makes everyone he speaks to feel warm. Still, for all you know this could be some elaborate ruse of his to make you trust him now and then convince you to do all the work for the rest of the semester.

Tentatively, you ask, “and how would you know that?” You try your best to keep your usual snappiness out of your voice, pose it simply out of curiosity. But everything you say or do feels like a stark contrast to Jungkook and his bubbliness.

His head tilts cutely to the side, imploring brown eyes looking at you for one hard second. And then, “I read your forum analysis from Wednesday,” he admits, breaking into a smile. Shy and tiny, bashfully looking down at his desk. “I thought your perspective on the piece was really interesting,” he says, lips pursing together as if he’s suddenly too embarrassed to admit such things to you.

Stunned, all you can manage is one slow nod. “Thank you,” you eventually choke out, trying to ward the heat away from your cheeks as Jungkook sheepishly nods back, cute smile still on his face.

“Oh, please,” he chuckles, raising his hand to rub at the back of his neck. “Don’t thank me!”

It is in this exact moment that you are suddenly made aware of two things.

One: despite his collection of soft sweaters and t-shirts, his bouncy curls and sweet smile, Jeon Jungkook’s body is neither as cute nor as soft as any of his belongings. In fact, Jeon Jungkook’s body is all hard planes and prominent veins. Arms beefy, biceps that bulge beneath the fabric of the short sleeve t-shirt he’s donned today. His shoulders fill out the material nicely, making him look broad and huge, but that’s not even the worst part, because—

—two: Jeon Jungkook is covered in ink. Dark streaks and swirls paint his forearms, curling around his elbow. Every inch of his pale skin is littered with tiny designs. They dance along the back of his hands, over his knuckles, and end at an unidentifiable point beneath the sleeve of his t-shirt. When he tugs at the neckline of his shirt in an effort to readjust it, you hope your eyes are deceiving you and that isn’t a hint of ink by his collarbone.

Your normal composure seems to slip away at the mere thought.

It’s Jungkook’s voice that brings you back, a soft timbre that asks, “aren’t we supposed to have someone else in our group?” You flinch as if you’ve been caught ogling him, never mind the fact he’s started mindlessly shuffling some papers around on his desk, not the slightest bit concerned with you.

“Oh— um, yes. I think,” you stammer, feeling like some creep for ogling your very cute, very sweet classmate. The memory of his inky skin nearly sends a shiver down your spine as you navigate back to the class syllabus. “We’re supposed to have at least three people,” you read off, glancing at the boy on your screen who frowns at the news.

“Do you think they dropped?” Given it was still only the first week of school, probably. There had been a fewer number of people in the call when it started, you remembered. Jungkook sighs, this rather light sound that ends in a hum. “Well, we can always wait a few minutes just in case.”

So you wait, nervously bouncing your leg up and down. It’s not awkward, or at least, not as awkward as it would be with anyone else. The other week you had silently sat with another classmate in a one-on-one discussion and hadn’t uttered a word for five minutes. It wasn’t because you didn’t care about the class, but because said classmate had been tapping away on their phone the entire time and hadn’t even responded to your simple greeting. That was awkward.

With Jungkook it’s more weird than awkward. You can tell the silence makes him uncomfortable because he keeps doing these tiny inhales like he’s about to speak, followed by a little head shake where he seemingly stops himself from saying anything at all. He wants to talk, very badly it seems, but holds back for some odd reason.

He’s scribbling on some sheet of paper, leaning forward to give you a view of the top of his head. From this angle, his shirt hangs forward and a silver necklace falls out from beneath the neckline, thuds against the table. And then your suspicions are nearly confirmed, and oh god, is that a chest piece—

You quickly look away.

Robbed of his handsome face and feeling like you’ll die if you look at his body any longer, you settle for your newly acquired favorite pastime: inspecting your classmates’ rooms over Zoom. Yes, you’ll admit it is incredibly nosy, but what else can you do? You can only look at your professor for so long until you inevitably grow bored, attention drifting off to your classmates tiny windows. And with no professor in sight, just gorgeous Jeon Jungkook, you quickly begin your examination of his bedroom.

Jungkook’s room is pretty much the same as you remember it, rather neat and plain. There’s not a lot going on in terms of decoration, which is a little surprising to say the least. Over the course of the week, you’ve watched your classmates’ dormitories and bedrooms gradually change, decorations and tapestries decorating the walls, mountains of pillows added to their beds. It’s only natural that everyone has an innate need to show off who they are now more than ever, and you thought Jungkook would be the same.

Apparently not.

Aside from the guitar you had spotted on Monday, his little dorm room remains unchanged. Blank walls, grayscale sheets. The same perfectly fluffed pillows and then—

A tiny Keroppi plush smack dab in the middle of his bed.

It’s adorable but a little out of place amongst Jungkook’s rather masculine decorations (or lack thereof). A tiny green doll sitting by his pillows, cute striped shirt and ridiculously dopey smile.

Leaning forward, you unmute yourself and conversationally say, “I love your Keroppi.”

At the sudden sound of your voice, Jungkook abruptly straightens up, glasses practically at the very tip of his nose. Eyes wide, it takes him a second to process your words before jerkily whipping around to stare at the aforementioned item. “Oh,” he jumps, slowly looking at his screen again, lips pulled into a tight line. “Um… it’s not mi—“

“It’s adorable,” you add, propping your chin in your palm, absolutely endeared with the rosy color that paints his cheeks, fades down the column of his neck.

He squirms, hurriedly pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He looks like he’ll deny it again, nervously nibbling at his lower lip, before eventually he settles with a sigh. “I won it from a crane machine,” he confesses with a sheepish huff of laughter, rolling backwards to the edge of his bed to snatch it from its spot.

(Of course he manspreads as he sits, dark jeans hugging his thighs as he rolls back your way. His arm looks so strong, covered in all that ink, you nearly drool.)

“It’s cute, isn’t it?” he says, abandoning his embarrassment as he shakes the little figure around, makes it look like it’s dancing for you. “My mom said it looks like me.”

At that, you laugh. Loud and boisterous because you were definitely not expecting Jungkook to say that, such an odd but weirdly fitting comparison that has you looking at the doll in his hands with renewed interest. And through the pixelated screen, you can see the similarities: Jungkook does have the same smile as Keroppi.

“Your mom was right,” you agree, wiping a faux tear from the corner of your eye. “Very cute.”

Jungkook’s got this big goofy smile on, shaking his head in disbelief that you would ever dare agree with his mom. Like he’s genuinely enjoying himself, you think, oddly proud to have evoked that reaction from him. Granted, Jungkook always looks like he’s pretty happy during class, but it feels nice knowing that you were (confirmed) the reason why.

A little caught up with the bumbling feeling in your chest, you’re not expecting his next words. “Does that mean I’m cute?” he asks, still with that same dopey smile on his face.

It’s a bold statement you wouldn’t have expected from him, someone who seems content being the world’s friend, but apparently Jeon Jungkook also craves compliments.

Slowly, you nod. “...yes,” you say, trying to keep the tumultuous emotions inside of you at bay while you grant him this one compliment. Outwardly, you give him what you hope is an obviously feigned look of disbelief, managing to lace it with a little amusement as you shake your head at his inquiry. On the inside, your mind and heart are a thundering racetrack, the roar of the engines and the screams of the crowd enough to momentarily make you lose your senses. “Very cute,” you repeat, hoping he can’t hear the same pounding of your heartbeat in your throat and in your ears as you do. “Like a little frog.”

Jungkook graces your robotic response with the most boyish laugh, head tossed back as one loud cackle (because, really, there is no other way to describe the sound that tears itself from his throat) escapes him, curls bouncing back from the movement. “Cute like a frog,” he wheezes, seemingly to himself as he shakes his head with a grin, scooting closer to the camera again. “That’s a new one.”

“You set yourself up for it,” you defend, busying yourself with the papers spread out in front of you before Jungkook can distract you any further. “Anyway!” you announce, neatly lining the papers up. “Our group.”

Jungkook does his best to wipe the glee off his face, but even as he reaches around for his things, it’s still there. “Right,” he agrees, “we have to, um—“ a huff of laughter “—group contract! Or, well, partner project.”

Briefly, you consider calling in your professor to inform him of your missing partner. He had said to let him know by the end of today if something was wrong. But, honestly, you didn’t see a problem with your group the way it was now. While you can only hope he’ll turn out to be as dedicated to his work as you, as it stands now, there weren’t any major red flags surrounding Jungkook’s character.

Besides, you didn’t mind being with him for the rest of the semester.

You nod, forcing yourself to ignore the glimmer in his eyes when he looks at you through the screen. “I think it’s safe to say it’ll just be the two of us, which I don’t mind,” you say, glancing at the time on the corner of your screen to see five minutes have passed since you agreed to wait. “Do you?”

On screen, Jungkook profusely shakes his head, curls bouncing all over the place. “Nope,” he hums. “I don’t mind at all,” he reassures you, resting his chin in his palm as he regards you, and then sweetly adds, “it’ll be nice with just us, __.”

Right.

You gulp, heart fluttering at the dreaminess he exudes through your screen, the soft strand of hair that falls over his forehead, tickles his brow bone when he flashes you another smile. He was so handsome. Before you say anything silly, you quickly attempt to move on. “But it does make us more of a duo than a group.”

Jungkook looks away from his screen for the first time in what feels like forever and you finally let your heart rest for a second. “A duo,” he murmurs, shuffling through his papers. “Like Mickey and Minnie?”

You nearly choke on your spit, coughing to hide the surprise from his rather cute suggestion. He’s not even looking at you, doesn’t even realize the absolute shock he’s thrown you in by comparing the two of you to one of the most famous couples— that’s what they are, a goddamn couple, not a duo! the words mean two completely different things! —in the world. Instead, Jungkook is humming the theme song to Drake & Josh.

This man was dangerous for your heart.

After having felt all the emotions in the world in the span of ten seconds, you eventually gather the courage to say, “sure,” and quickly try to move the conversation along. “We just need to, um, make some ground rules and responsibilities for us to follow.”

Jungkook nods, finally glancing up again, but not at you. He’s glaring at some point behind his computer, brows furrowed together as he begins brainstorming on his own. You try to, really, but his lips pout adorably when he’s deep in thought, and they’re just so pink and look so soft and would feel like—

“Well, we should probably exchange numbers first,” Jungkook says, interrupting your spiraling thoughts with a new topic to spiral over. He tilts his head to the side, brown eyes focused on you.

“Yes, of course,” you stammer, fumbling for your phone as Jungkook lets out a soft yay at your acceptance of his request. Quickly, he recites his number and you type it in with trembling hands into the number pad, giving him a quick call so he can have your number as well.

You save him right away, just his name followed by the class you share with him. Not like you know any other Jeon Jungkooks, and if you did, you doubt anyone could ever leave such an impact like this Jeon Jungkook.

“__, look,” Jungkook calls, that same excitement lacing his already lovely voice, and you raise your head up at the screen again. He’s waving his phone over his camera, so you don’t get to see his face when he says, “It’s a little mouse emoji and a pink bow— just like Minnie!”

Dangerous for your heart and, most likely, the death of you this semester.

#networkbangtan #bangtanhq #jungkook fic #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #bts smut #bts fic #jjk smut #jeon jungkook smut #jjk♡#mine

2K notes · View notes

lipstickstainz · 4 years ago

Text

true lies - s. r. (5/15)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Series Summary: Spencer is furious, when you rejoin the team after a year and after you left him, when he got arrested. Little does he know, that you leaving him was the only option to ever get him out of prison.

Chapter Summary: Working with Spencer goes surprisingly well - and then it escalates.

Warnings: season 13 episode 18, cursing, fighting, angst, alcohol consumption ... and smut ( unprotected sex, wrap it before you tap it friends ) (minors - dni!)

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: hello friends! I’m sorry it took me so long to finish this chapter, but I wasn’t feeling well last week and I didn't want to post something just to post something (I hope you understand). anyways, thanks for all the nice feedback! here’s part 5! gif not mine.

also I edited the entire taglist because some are minors and this chapter is 18+! if you want to be tagged, please send me an ask right here, because it’s easier for me to acknowledge it! thank you!

and this chapter is dedicated to my friend @feynmansletter because she read part 4 and messaged me with a song that fit really well! if you read my stuff and think of a song, please tell me! I definitely want to listen! okay bye!

Series Masterlist

previous part

Emily is not stupid. Definitely not. She only needs to look at you to know what happened. Hair disheveled, clothes out of place, you name it. But thank God she has the decency not to call you on it.

It's been two days since you kissed, and neither of you made a start or signaled to the other that you should talk about it. But you don't plan to make the first move either. You know exactly what you want. The kiss has flared your previously extinguished glimmer of hope, and even though you're sure it would be a long time before you found your way back to each other, that's all you can think about. Spencer has to make a decision. He has to decide for himself if he is ready for a fresh start. That's a decision you can't and, more importantly, don't want to make for him.

When you arrive at the precinct in the morning, Spencer is the only one in the conference room. A glance at your watch tells you that you definitely didn't oversleep, but you can't spot the rest of the team anywhere either, so you join Spencer.It's the first moment you spend alone since your kiss. It's the first moment you've spent alone since your kiss. He examines one of the roses you found at the crime scenes. He looks tired, but not exhausted. He probably didn't get enough sleep during the night, but enough that his brain is once again on overdrive.

"Morning, Reid. What do you got?", you ask him, taking a seat in the chair across from him. He looks up from the rose and smiles at you briefly-which sets off a storm of butterflies in your stomach-before turning back to the flower. His hair is mussed in a good way and your heart gives a little jump, but you push it aside. The case is more important.

"The unsub's growing his own roses”, he notes, handing you the plastic-wrapped rose. As you take it from him, your fingers touch.

"What makes you think that?"

"Well, the branching patterns and lack of fungal contamination associated with greenhouses." You have to stifle a smile. Only Doctor Spencer Reid can say something like "fungal contamination" that it sounds kind of sexy. "Garden roses aren't as cosmetically perfect as florist roses, but they're healthier and have sturdier leaf growth, like this one."

You look closely at the plant and raise an eyebrow. "So, our unsub lives in the greater Chicago area with a rose garden." You look at Spencer, who nods at you. You sigh, "Well, we should have this case wrapped by noon." You push the rose toward him again and rest your head on your hands.

"How's Gracias phone search coming?", Spencer asks and you shake your head.

"Nothing. She's looking into chat, messaging, social posts, but it takes time." Time that we don't have, you add in thought. Spencer doesn't answer right away, but you can literally see the gears turning in his brain. For a brief moment, you've forgotten how handsome he looks as he does so. Eyebrows furrowed together, jaw tightened.

"Rita was a private nurse in other people's homes, right?"

You're too distracted by him to notice he's asking you a question. When he doesn't continue, you realize he was addressing you. "Yeah, why?"

"Well, maybe she used one of her patients' phones."

You send Penelope a message, but before you can put your phone back in your pocket, it rings. Her name flashes brightly on the display, and you answer the call before pressing the speaker button. "Hey, Garcia."

"You guys were right”, she begins immediately without greeting you, and you have to grin. You like that Penelope can be so deep in her work that she just forgets normal things like a greeting. It doesn't make her rude, it makes her even more endearing than she already is. "One of Rita's patients is Joanne Willis, and there were multiple calls from the Willis residence in the wee small hours to an internet radio station in Chicago."

"That could be it”, Spencer interjects.

"What's the stations format?", you ask, staring at the phone you've placed on the table between you. You don't want to meet Spencer's hopeful gaze, because you wish it was for you.

"Songs to be an unsub by, which in this case is songs from the thirties, forties and fifties”, Penelope continues. "It is a live call-in show hosted by Craig Kaline nightly, and it just went off the air."

Spencer gets up from his chair. You lift your head and look at him. He seems to be waiting for you. "All right. Let's go."

The ride to the Radion station is silent. Both of you are elsewhere with your thoughts. While yours revolve around what the kiss will ultimately mean to Spencer, Spencer's are likely once again picking apart the case information so far. Can he really turn off his feelings that easily? Is that something he learned in prison? Once again, you realize you have no idea what Spencer has been through, but before you can wrap your head around it, you've arrived at your destination.

The room is dark, crammed with electronics you don't understand, and a certain Billy Deaver is sitting at his desk when you arrive and introduce yourselves.

"Did Craig say where he was going?", you get right to the point, and Deaver shakes his head.

"He just bolted. Normally I'd say it's some woman. Craig was a little overwired that way."

You look briefly at Spencer, who has his eyes on Deaver. "Why wouldn't you say that now?"

"Today's they day he's renewing his vows with his wife. You'd think the guy could keep it tucked in until at least after that."

"Do you keep a log of what music is played here each night?", interjects Spencer, and Deaver snaps his fingers. He turns in his chair and reaches for several black folders, which he then hands over to you. "We archive playlists going back to years. Have at it."

As Spencer reads through the playlists, you turn back to Deaver. "So, Craig had a way with the women?"

Deaver nods. "Big time. How they bought into his cornball of b.s. I'll never know. Let me show you something." Again he turns, but this time his hands reach for a large brown cardboard box he sets down on his desk. He takes off the lid and shows you the contents. Bras, photos, love letters. "We get stuff like this everyday." He holds up a photo with something written on the back. "'Dreaming of us dancing in the dark'. This one's r-rated, but there's plenty of triple x in this box."

You hear Spencer turn another page. "All oft he victims's songs are in here. "'String of pearls', 'Rum and coca-cola', 'Smoke gets in your eyes’." He points to where the songs are and you take a quick glance.

"Victims?", asks Deaver nervously, "What's going on here?"

Spencer answers his question with a counter question. "Did Craig play these songs randomly or were they requests?"

"Requests. A lot of the songs he plays are requests."

"Did you get one last night?", you ask him, and it feels like you're finally on the right track.

Deaver nods again. "Yeah." He rummages around on his desk until he finds a note. "Janice. Don't know her last name, but this is her number." He hands you the note and you look at it for a moment.

"What was the song?"

"Diamonds are a girl's best friend."

You're about to head for the door when Spencer notices something. Inside the box is a rose, which Deaver pulls out. "Where'd that rose come from?"

"No idea."

You relay the information and Emily assures you that she and Alvez are on their way and you should head back to the precinct to share your findings with the rest of the team. While Emily and Luke find a dead Craig, you quickly realize that it's not him who committed the murders, but his wife Cheryl. Faster than you can look, you realize she's gone off the deep end, and the whole team is relieved when you finally arrest her and head back home.

It's quiet on the plane, everyone is busy with their own thoughts, until Emily breaks the silence. "I wonder why some men are like Craig Kaline."

Tara looks at her questioningly. "What, horn dogs you mean?"

"Is has the medical term?"

Tara laughs. "I believe it is."

Emily raises an eyebrow. "Seriously though. Cheryl, before she went oft he deep end, was a devoted and loving wife. Why did Craig feel like he had to bed everything that moved?"

"You know," Spencer starts, and all heads turn in his direction except yours. You're sitting by the window, book in hand, trying not to listen, but your brain just can't manage to tune him out, no matter how hard you try. "It might sound crazy, but having multiple sexual partners actually isn't hard to understand from an anthropological sense. Over ninety percent of mammals are promiscuous. It serves the function of self-preservation as well as coping mechanism to help relieve stress."

Tara looks at him in disbelief. "Cheating on your spouse relieves stress? I think the animal kingdom got that one backwards."

Emily nods in agreement. "And if he's trying to score with every single woman in Chicago, why didn't he just leave her?"

"It's hard to leave someone you love," you say more to yourself and without looking up from your book, but you feel the stares of others on you. You try harder to focus on the lines in front of you, and your hands tighten in the binding as Spencer wordlessly gets up and disappears toward the restroom. If only you'd kept your mouth shut.

Luke is the first to speak. "Why did you leave, anyway, Y/N? You loved him, didn't you? What was going on?"

You don't want to answer that, because it's too private and, more importantly, too dangerous for the others to know about. You lift your eyes and look around, everyone, except for Emily, continues to look at you. You open your mouth, about to say something, but that's when Spencer comes back and sits down in a seat far away from you.

"If you really want to know, Luke, Y/N left me when I needed her the most. She apparently didn't love me as much as I thought she did. She abandoned me and now she just came back for whatever reason." He looks to you briefly, and his gaze is so hateful and venomous that you can hardly stand it. "Is that enough of an answer for you?"

The rest of the flight passes in awkward and tense silence.

When you arrive back at Quantico, the others want to go out for a drink, probably to ease the tension, but you just want to go home. You're sure he doesn't want you around anymore. Besides, you can't stand his looks, because for a brief moment, after your kiss, you believed that eventually everything would be okay again, but once again you were proven wrong. As you walk towards the exit, Emily grabs your arm.

"Come with us, please, Y/N. We'll get drunk until we can't think straight and then we can spend the night at your place. Your apartment is only a block away, after all. Alright?" She smiles weakly and you shrug. You don't doubt for a second that she means well. She knows what's good for you, and sitting alone in your home right now, eating frozen pizza and crying would be the exact opposite of good.

The bar is already too crowded for your taste, but that way you don't have to see Spencer all the time. Emily doesn't hesitate for a second and pulls you right up to the counter, and she drinks so fast she doesn't notice you're not even touching your drink. You should probably drink, leave all that shit behind for just a second and enjoy life, but you can't. This constant back and forth is draining you, confusing you, and you're just exhausted.

While Matt, Luke, and Penelope let loose on the dance floor, Emily downs a shot before putting an arm around your shoulders. Her look is meaningful.

"No, Emily."

"Yes, Y/N. You have to tell him. That went too far on the plane today." She pauses and sips her cocktail, wherever that came from. "It's about time. And maybe then you guys can make up. As far as I know, he's out of danger."

You tilt your head and look at her in disbelief. "And what if he isn't? Then it would be my fault, Emily. I don't mind him thinking I left him because I don't love him anymore. I want him to hate me. I don't care, because I can still handle that better than losing him forever."

Emily frowns. "Then why did you come back if you're not one hundred percent sure it's all over? It doesn't make sense, Y/N!"

So many things don't make sense, you think to yourself, but you don't answer Emily's question. You're glad she's dropping the subject. It's not one of those things that should be settled in a bar when one party is about to completely shoot themselves down.

"I'm going to get some air”, you say, sliding off the barstool before making your way toward the exit. It's too warm, too stuffy for you, and you hope the cool night air will help you get your thoughts in order. Outside, you pull a cigarette out of your pocket, but before you can light it, you hear a voice familiar to you.

"Smoking is harmful. You should know that."

Annoyed, you hold your lighter to the cigarette and take a deep drag before puffing the smoke into the night. You don't turn to Spencer. "And why do you care if I smoke or not? From the way you sounded on the jet, you wouldn't care if I died from smoking or not. Just leave me alone, please, Reid."

You turn further away from him, but he stands directly in front of you. His shoes pop into your field of vision. "I do care, Y/N. And you know it."

You laugh out and take another drag before finally looking at him. "I don't know anything anymore. First you put me down at Rossi's party, then we cuddle together at JJ's. After our little escalation at Quantico, you kiss me, and we don't talk about it, which is totally okay, but then you put me down in front of the entire team," you summarize your entire situation, and you feel tears forming in the corners of your eyes. You blink them away.

"What do you want me to say, Y/N? That what you pulled with me is just forgotten?" He runs a hand through his hair, "I can't just forget it."

"I don't expect you to. No one expects you to." You flick the ash from your cigarette onto the floor. "I should get back inside. Emily's probably waiting for me." You kick the cigarette out on the floor and go to push past him, but he grabs your arm. Not firmly, but in a way that forces you to stop.

"I'm sorry about what I said on the jet." You look at him and something flashes in his eyes. "I shouldn't have said it in front of the others. I shouldn't have said it at all."

"You're right about that. It's not fair to bring the team into this. It's nobody's business. You made me look like I was the biggest bitch you could ever imagine. "My fiancée ditched me because she doesn't love me". Seems pretty shitty in front of colleagues you work with."

He lets go of your arm, but you make no move to move on. "I was angry."

"That's no excuse for acting so out of line. You fucked up, Reid."

His soft gaze turns rock hard. "I fucked up? You're the one who left me!"

"And how many times are you going to hold that against me, huh? For the rest of your life?" You don't care that you've gotten louder, and that you're probably attracting other people's attention. You're pissed. "Yeah, I left you. I don't expect you to be okay with me being back. But I do expect you to deal with it like a civilized adult. But you don't seem to be able to do that."

Spencer crosses his arms in front of his chest. The vein on his neck pulses. He's irritated. "It's not exactly easy for me having you back!"

"It's not easy for me, either. But I'm still not dragging the team into this shitty situation." You take a deep breath in and out, trying to get your heartbeat under control. "What is it that you want, Reid? What exactly do you want? Do you want me to leave? Seems like it, or you wouldn't be so hostile towards me. Do you want me to stay? Seems like it, or you wouldn't be cuddling with me, let alone kiss me. Make up your mind. I'm tired of it!"

You don't resist as he grabs your hand and pulls you down the street. He's practically yanking you along with him, and you fear he's about to dislocate your shoulder. "Where are we going?", you ask, confused.

"To your place." He takes a quick glance over his shoulder.

You don't ask how he knows where you live and you don't ask what his plan is as you unlock your apartment door, you enter and he immediately pushes you against the door. His lips find your neck as his hands slide under your shirt and he doesn't waste a second ripping it off your body. As soon as you get the chance, you rip open his shirt so that the buttons are spread all over the floor. His hand grabs your chin and pushes it aside so his mouth can continue attacking your neck. He nibbles, licks, bites, and you're sure your skin will be blue and purple tomorrow, but you don't care.

For a brief moment, he pulls back and looks you in the eye. There is pain and affection in his gaze, you just don't know which one predominates. "Do you want this?" he asks in a whisper, and you want to pull him to you and tell him with a kiss that he's all you'll ever want, but that's not enough for him. "You have to tell me, love."

At the old nickname, your knees turn to pudding and your heart pounds in your ears. "I want you, Spence. Kiss me, please," you almost beg, and that's all it takes for him.

"Spence", you moan as he tampers with your pants and slips them off your legs. You're a tangled mess as you stumble into your bedroom and fall onto the bed. His mouth explores your body as he has done over a thousand times before, but now it feels like the first time. Goosebumps spread across your body as he reaches around you and unclasps your bra, exposing your breasts to the cool air. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices a black stripe on your ribcage, probably a tattoo you got after you left, but he doesn't waste another thought on it.

As his lips press down on yours, you moan into his mouth, and as his hand pushes into your panties, you arch up to meet him. "Spence, please..."

In fact, that's all it takes. He pulls back to get rid of the rest of his clothes before slipping your panties off your legs as well. He takes a quick glance at your exposed core before grinning at you. "How I'd love to taste you”, he murmurs before sliding one of his long fingers between your folds, gathering your wetness on the tip of his finger. A whimper leaves your lips. "But not tonight."

He removes his hand, bracing his forearms beside your head as he lies on top of you. His weight on you feels so familiar it almost brings tears to your eyes, but when he places his lips on yours as one of his hands briefly pumps his shaft before he places the tip at your entrance, you're just one thing. His.

"I've waited so long for this”, he groans as he lifts your leg and thrusts into you in one hasty motion. You put your hand over your mouth to keep from crying out in arousal, but Spencer reaches out and presses it to the pillow beneath you, intertwining your fingers. It's a tender gesture that doesn't match his wild pace and hard thrusts, but you don't care much.

Your free hand tangles in the small of his back, your nails sure to leave red streaks on his skin, but Spencer just focuses on how incredibly good you taste as he slides his tongue into your mouth. The whole affair is messy and dirty as he releases your hand, only to slide it between your bodies. His fingers find your clit and you moan into his mouth, all while thrusting into you and hitting that spot just right.

"Spence, I - I can't”, you try to say, but he won't hear. His fingers rub over your clit with pleasure and you feel your legs shake around his waist and your walls clench around his cock as you cum. Your body arches towards him, finding release, and it's not long before hot spurts of his release fill your cunt. His fingers dig into your hips, and as he moans your name, it sounds like music to your ears.

When your breathing returns to normal, he gently pulls out of you before disappearing into the bathroom to grab a damp washcloth. You wince as he runs it between your legs to wipe away your mixed cum. After taking the rag back to the bathroom, he comes back into the bedroom and puts on his boxers before sitting down on the edge of the bed.

You know what's coming now, and you've imagined it quite a few times, but that doesn't stop you from wiping a tear from the corner of your eye before sitting up and finding your clothes. You grab a pair of sweatpants and an oversized shirt before sitting down with him. His gaze is soft, not as hard and unyielding as it was an hour ago.

"We definitely need to talk."

next part

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aceofwhump · 3 years ago

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awwww, it makes me so happy to see roger receiving some love! that seems to be a very rare thing on here. i was watching back some old scenes on youtube the other day in anticipation for the shows return and came across some comments with an alarming number of likes saying how bree would be better with bonnet? like, fair enough if you don't like roger but to say you'd rather see bree get with her r*pist is just f*cking disgusting. i think ill take a leaf out of your book and block away!

I love Roger SO MUCH!! I happily give Roger love because he's great and I do not take arguments against him. No Roger hate allowed on my blogs. So please feel free to come chat about Roger with me either here or on my main blog, thewanderingace (I post a lot of gifsets for him there during the season airings) any time!

It's definitely rare to find not just fans of Roger but even just people who aren't downright aggressive about their hatred for him. I can't believe people would ship Bree with Bonnet over Roger. Makes me sick. People can not like Roger, that's fine, I get it, but people can be so damn mean about it to people who like him. I've gotten a lot of nasty messages for liking him and that's not cool. I just delete the messages and block the senders. I block those in the tag who post Roger hate for my own sense of happiness and I highly recommend others who like Roger do the same. There's nothing wrong with blocking blogs who make you uncomfortable or who post negative things about things you like. The block button is your friend. The block button makes your tumblr experience better. Use your block button freely.

And if you or anyone else ever wants to chat about Roger my inbox is always open! This is a Roger positive place!

#mod replies #mod post #ask #anon #outlander #roger mackenzie

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ssahotchdad · 3 years ago

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marie – twenty – writer / photographer

primary blog: ssahotchfics ( my replies will come from this page )

current status: listening to 'unsaid emily' on repeat and thinking about hotchniss

what can you find in this post?

– link to my masterlists

– about me

– my fandoms

– general info

M A S T E R L I S T

– my masterlist

– masterlist for just my criminal minds works

this blog is actually just my sideblog, dedicated to the criminal minds fandom, but it holds a dear place in my heart. on my primary blog, i have created one large masterlist, containing all my works, published here, on archive of our own, and on wattpad.

this list gets updated per work i publish, and it will have a note that informs the readers whether or not a work is finished. as you can tell by the name of my primary, my wattpad + archive of our own does not have the same names.

my masterlist is also a way of showing what other fandoms i’m in, and actively writing in! hope you find something you enjoy!

A B O U T M E

– me, aka marie

my name is marie, and i’m a twenty year old writer and photographer. i both study, currently working my way through a bachelor’s degree in photojournalism, as well as work on the side – but i still have a lot of time for writing and enjoying off time. i have never been the best at expressing myself verbally, and take a great pride in always expanding my vocabulary. i want it to be known that while i do have scottish ancestry, i am born, and raised, in norway, and i am well aware that my english is far from perfect!

i’m a self-titled coffee addict, and usually run on a lack of sleep ( at all times ). otherwise i prefer to relax with a good beer above anything else. outside of social media, i own six cats and a dog, being an active breeder of sacred birmans.

my passion for writing and photography started more or less at the same time, and i was quite young. at the age of thirteen/fourteen i made my mind up about wanting to work with photography full-time when i was done with my studies: since then, nothing has stopped me, and i’m now well on the way of achieving my degree – something i’m very proud of!

otherwise, i like to think of myself as rather friendly, and always down for a chat.

M Y F A N D O M S

– or where i enjoy to leave my imagination

the following fandoms are my main: criminal minds, the rookie, one chicago, cheers, fbi, star wars, marvel, s.w.a.t, bones, castle.

this list will be updated frequently!

G E N E R A L I N F O R M A T I O N

– just a couple of things to remember

i take requests for incorrect quotes, and i take requests for hotchniss one shots! i can already tell you all that there will be more oneshots based on my incorrect quotes, as i quite enjoy turning something so small into something larger, with a better context. i make sure to always have at least 200 incorrect quotes drafted and ready for publishing, so alongside my writing, those won’t stop coming!

as for my works, i love sharing them with you, and i love hearing your thoughts! it always puts a smile on my face when i see people reblog with their own tags and their own comments, it makes me so happy when i see people reblog my oneshots with their feelings about it, and that’s what keeps me going, what keeps me motivated to keep sharing with you! so please don’t stop that, i love it, and i appreciate it! x

last but not least ... ko-fi

i have a ko-fi page, where you can buy me a coffee if you wish. it is not an obligation, as i am well aware not everyone is in a situation where they can leave a small tip, or even feel like leaving a small tip. as said, it is not an obligation, and you’re very welcome to simply scroll by it!

E N J O Y! x

#marie speaks #masterlist #info about the blog #a bit about me

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koutarouthighs · 4 years ago

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『 orange slices 』

S U M M A R Y ― orange slices are usually eaten during or after sports events to replenish hydration, vitamins, and antioxidants; these characters can be forgetful, so what will you do to help them remember that sometimes it’s important to take care of themselves even though all they want to do is get lost in the game of volleyball?

post type ➺ headcanons fandom ➺ haikyuu!! characters ➺ daichi ⧾ bokuto ⧾ kuroo genre ➺ fluff tags ➺ college!au; established relationship; word count ➺ 2k+ request ➺ [YES/NO] ↳ request here!

⤭ people always tease you and daichi, calling you mom and dad, or playing around and saying, “oh, it’s like you two are already married!” and you suppose, most of the time, they’re right. you two just click. ⤭ you try to make it to as many of daichi’s intramural games as possible, given your busy school and work schedule. and every time, without fail, whenever he spots you on the green chatting with another one of the player’s girlfriends, that signature little bento box is seated safely beside you. ⤭ after the game is over, he snags one last refill of water from the team jug before jogging over to you, standing in the way of the sun so you’re not blinded when you look up at him. although, he shines brightly enough all on his own that it’s still tough not to narrow your eyes even just a little. ⤭ he makes small talk with the girls around you, their boyfriends slowly trickling in as they wrap up from their games. daichi sits next to you, hand on your knee, careful never to interrupt or overstep, always aware of you in every capacity. there is laughter as you all share stories about your least favorite professors and that one assignment you just can’t shake. ⤭ daichi waits until his stomach growls to make a move for the bento, knowing that the box is big enough for the both of you. you unravel it carefully, putting the cloth wrapping to the side before allowing him to unlock the lid.

more below the cut ↴

daichi’s eyes practically roll into the back of his head as the steam from the still-warm meat and rice wafts upward to his face. he sighs and leans forward, pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek before taking the set of chopsticks and digging into the food.

everyone else is watching you two, in awe or disgust at the natural ease of your relationship. you two sit closely, read one another’s minds as you get him a napkin when you see sauce drip from his chin, and he passes you the thermos filled with some sort of tea when he notices you trying to stifle a cough.

“thanks, honey,” daichi wipes his face clean before kissing your temple this time, one hand on the back of your head to steady you as he leans forward. he tucks his tissue into the empty box and nuzzles your cheek with his nose, “you always make such good lunch.”

it’s a simple recipe, one even tanaka couldn’t screw up, but the affectionate words are not lost on you. your face still heats, your eyes still avert his saccharine gaze, and your skin still buzzes at the sound of him. you thank him in that small voice you get when you feel self-conscious, and daichi wraps you up in his arms, pulling you tightly against his still-damp chest, mouth against the shell of your ear, “i’m so lucky to have you, y’know? always looking out for me.”

“daichi,” you groan, your skin burning as he kisses your cheek relentlessly, uttering little sweet nothings against your face like stardust. you wrinkle your nose and shove at him, but it has no intent. you curl your fingers around his jersey, “we look after each other, you silly goose. no need to thank me.”

daichi huffs and you look up at him, noting the wrinkle in his brow. just as you go to ask him what’s wrong, if you’ve said something that’s hurt him, his lips part, “i will never stop thanking you for being the wonderful person that you are. if i do, then i’m taking you for granted and that’s not fair.”

you know that he’s being overly dramatic, but you don’t have the heart to refute him. rather, you press your palm to his cheek and tilt your head upward to meet him halfway, a warm kiss passed from you to him. daichi’s hands seize around your waist, an anchor holding you to the grassy lawn you’ve been camped out on since early this morning. he sighs as you pull away, utterly enraptured by your graceful nature, “you deserve the whole world, darling. i just hope that what i can give you comes close enough.”

and you know that it will be. daichi was always more than enough.

⤭ bokuto always forgets his water bottle, no matter how many little notes you leave around the apartment as a reminder for him to pick it up, or how often you place it in the most easy-to-find and obvious places, he still manages to forget it entirely ⤭ even though he’s too focused on the intramural game to text you and ask you to bring it, you always show up after you’ve done your morning study routine with his huge water canister filled to the brim with ice cold h2o ⤭ after the first set, when he gets a five minute break before they start up again, bokuto spots you with that signature black water bottle hooked by the key chain attached to it’s lid looped around your finger, swaying it back and forth in midair, a little smirk-turned-smile on your pretty lips ⤭ bokuto has no bashfulness when it comes to your relationship. he loves you, is totally smitten, and wants everyone to know it. so he has no qualms with running across the green to pick you up around the waist and hoist you into the air, twirling you as he blabbers a dozen different thank you’s ⤭ he’s always so appreciative of the way you never get upset that he’s forgotten something yet again. rather, you pick up his slack, helping out where he lacks. today this trait shows by you bringing by his water bottle [and a little bento box filled with his favorite food for after the game is over]

﹢

"i left it on the front doorstep, bo,” you chastise him just before he manages to plant a kiss on your lips, effectively cutting short your admonishments. he chuckles, the sound reverberating his chest and yours, before settling you down on the ground so you can get your bearings straight before he kisses the breath out of you all over again, “yeah, but then i wouldn’t have had an excuse to come over here and kiss you.”

your whole body goes hot, from ears to toes, and you look down at his sneaker-clad feet so you don’t have to stare up into his shimmering golden irises. but bokuto, ever the steady-hand, notches his knuckle under your chin to tilt your head upward, “thank you, baby. i don’t know what i’d do without you.”

“dehydrate,” you deadpan, trying your hardest to keep from turning to a molten pit of lava right here on the campus green, “starve.”

“you little...” a mirthful smirk tugs on his lips and then he’s devouring you all over again, grabbing you around the waist and invading your space as he leans forward to kiss you square on the mouth.

“bokuto! time to start the next set!”

reluctantly, and with a low growl, he departs from you, raising a pale brow as he nudges your nose with his, planting one last chaste kiss to your mouth, “gonna watch the rest of the game, babe?”

you nod, smiling as he pulls away, “of course, bo. i always watch your games.”

“just checking,” bokuto pinches your hips before finally unraveling from you, “can’t wait to show you my new power serve i’ve been working on! you better watch me!”

pushing him away, you lick your lips and grin uncontrollably, his energy infectious as he bounces on his heels at the sight of you and the thought of playing another set of volleyball. you take a breath before nodding up at him, “i can’t wait to see it, kou. you’re always amazing.”

he can’t help but to kiss your cheek one last time before jogging back towards the volleyball court, his water bottle still hooked around your finger, forgotten once again.

⤭ kuroo is not forgetful of his things like jerseys, water bottles, etc. but he can lose track of time. usually he’ll have played so many games without eating that you have to interrupt him after a few games too many and only then does he realize how lightheaded he is. ⤭ you press your palms to his heated, sweaty face and force him to focus on you, reminding him that he needs to take a break every now and then. his eyes will flit around for a moment before he finally zeroes in on your features. ⤭ one of his classmates who has been taking a break on the bench tells kuroo that he’s going to sub in for him, he wants to try blocking against the other team for a while. you know it’s just the classmate trying to help you out, so you give him a small nod over kuroo’s shoulder and then turn back to your boyfriend. ⤭ you force kuroo to sit down on the grass underneath a big tree, the shade already cooling him down as he guzzles water from his bottle for a few moments without speaking. you simply sit next to him, keeping your distance because you can tell by his posture and the flush of his skin that he’s overheated, and you don’t want to contribute to his warmth by touching him with your palm to his knee. ⤭ finally, after a few minutes, he looks across at you with a genuine grin on his lips, his eyes practically lighting up at the sight of you now that he can see you in your entirety. he reaches towards you to press a palm to your cheek, tilting his head before kissing you slowly.

﹢

"you worry me, tetsu,” you whisper as he pulls away, your fingers clutching at his jersey.

kuroo kisses the tip of your nose and then your forehead, smoothing your hair away from your face before sitting back on his thighs, still towering over you even as you sit close together. his free hand drifts to your knee, drawing little swirling motions along your skin, warmed from the sunshine beating down through the sparse leaves of the tree, “i know, sweetheart. i just get lost in the game sometimes, i forget how long i’ve been playing. i promise i’ll be better.”

the same promises every time, but you know that he misses playing with nekoma. he misses being a captain. he misses the camaraderie. and who are you to tell him that he can’t have that any longer? who are you to rob him of his sidelined dreams that are played out now in the form of recreational volleyball?

instead of arguing, you purse your lips, silently asking him for another bout of affection. kuroo chuckles before obliging, rather enthusiastically, tackling you down into the grass. he loiters over you, lanky and long and bulking as always, broad shoulders down to a trim waist, knees caging you in on either side of your hips.

“thank you,” he murmurs as he pulls away, translucent lids still partially hiding his amber irises from your view, “i don’t know where i’d be without you to bring me back down to earth.”

“you’d manage,” you whisper, tracing his jawline with your thumb, “but i like to think i make your life a little easier.”

a slow blink and the gentle tilt of his head has you completely enraptured in the beauty of his eyes coupled with his smile. every time you see him, you’re completely blindsided by his mere presence, and he never ceases to amaze you, no matter how many days you spend together. your fingers slot into his hair at the nape of his neck, thumbs brushing along his throat, like this is what you were built to do, easy and smooth.

kuroo kisses your lower lip and then your top lip, paying closest attention to every part of you, “i don’t think you know how much you mean to me, baby. guess i’ll just have to remind you.”

if you two get lost in each other against the tree trunk, the sun setting and bringing about a newfound chill in the air, nobody seemed to notice. almost as if you two were in your own world, completely lost, unable to know where one of you ends and the other begin. eventually you have to go home, but for now you’re going to bask in one another’s presence.

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imagine-your-love-story · 3 years ago

Note

Thank you for encouraging a safe space on Tumblr. It might seem like basic courtesy to leave people be, leave them their comfort and creative freedom, but apparently it's not. As someone who has very questionable self ship poly dynamics, it's.. nice not being scared of seeing "Don't interact if this- dont interact if that" and then in danger of harrassment.

Please keep spreading these vibes of comfort and love - you're a great person whom we need a lot more of in the world wide web

You're very welcome, lovely! :) :) :)

Hoo boy. I have...soooo many thoughts on like....ALL of this. And this post is gonna get LONG because I've opened the can of worms and I'm lettin' it all out :P

The amount of bullying and negativity I've seen in the selfshipping community lately is very painful and disappointing to watch. Tumblr and fandom has always been somewhat of a cesspool but I had hoped that selfshipping was a little better.

I'm not seeing a positive community on a large scale right now.

There are some people who are shining little stars out there of course! But there's more hate being spread around than I can stomach.

I've spent Y E A R S researching and unlearning and pushing back against the psychological and emotional effects of manipulative behaviors like: blame, guilt, shame, and harassment.

I absolutely 100000% believe you can speak to people civilly and state your reasons why you think their behavior is damaging. Without telling them, "You are wrong. You are a bad person." Or otherwise making them feel shitty about themselves.

And I also believe that you CAN allow that person to say, "I don't agree with what you're saying" and you can still have normal interactions with that person without immediately shunning them and labeling them as a terrible person.

People BLOSSOM when they are showered in love, acceptance, and understanding. People are MUCH more willing to listen and heed what you have to say when you give them SPACE to see your point of view (or disagree with you and still accept them).

This culture on social media where people jump STRAIGHT to, "You're a HORRIBLE person because you do something I disagree with!" is, frankly, horrifying and a little disgusting.

Does this mean I condone negative and damaging behaviors?

No. Absolutely not.

But there seems to be this loss of perspective on what is considered "negative and damaging behaviors".

1. It's fiction. Fiction has NEVER been "clean". It's a place of freedom to discuss EVERYTHING.

2. You don't have to feel comfortable with everything being discussed in fiction. I'm not. If I don't like a self-shipper's content because it hits some trigger buttons for me...I don't follow their blog. Because that's my boundary and I have every right to it.

Do I send them messages saying, "You're a toxic person!"

Nope.

Do I comment on their ship that they love and say, "This makes me uncomfortable!"

Nope.

It's not my business.

Also: it’s fiction and there are MUCH bigger problems that require my energy than whether or not I should correct someone’s fictional ship.

Go save the ocean.

Go save the rainforest.

Go save the planet you live and breath on.

Fiction should not be making you angry enough to send hate mail to someone else. Full stop. That should never ever be a priority.

3. Some people engage in selfshipping "negative behaviors" as a way to cope with their trauma. We have no idea what a person has been through and we have no right to tell them that they should stop what they're doing when we do not know where they are on their journey of healing.

It hurts my heart so, so much when I receive messages from selfshippers like you, dear anon, who are TERRIFIED to share their love stories with their characters because they're afraid of being labeled/attacked/harassed by the community.

That's the community letting you down. That should NOT be happening and I'm so sorry you're feeling that way, lovely.

The ENTIRE point of selfshipping was to ESCAPE the people who criticized for shipping yourself with a character that you love. The foundation of selfshipping is that ANYTHING is possible!!! You are limitless!!!

And now people are policing what you can do??? That's...that completely obliterates the point of selfshipping. That's WHY we escaped to our own community!

I don't know if this video is available outside of the U.S., but I highly recommend, the Crappy Childhood Fairy's Youtube video on Cancel Culture. It's a great listen when you're navigating the emotional turmoil of social media culture.

So, if you're still reading after ALL OF THAT :P here are some key points about this blog and my philosophy when it comes to selfshipping:

This blog will always be a judgment free zone

Of course I have opinions! Of course we may disagree on something! But I won't judge you for it. You're allowed to do your own thang! ;)

I will never have a DNI.

If I feel an interaction is crossing into territory that isn't appropriate or acceptable, I'll say so. And if that doesn't work, I'll block and report. But I will never have a DNI on this blog.

Yes, I am an adult. So if minors don't feel comfortable following my blog, it's okay if they don't! I understand!

But I don't have a problem talking with minors because they are human beings and they may need support. I worked in Youth Services at a library for over two years. I know sometimes kids just want someone to talk about cool books and movies with and I'm 100% down for that 24/7 :)

Because this blog is all-ages friendly, I will never post 18+ content because - just like IRL - I make sure that I am mindful of the people around me. I may post some suggestive content that is tagged, but I try not to get too explicit.

I also don’t really think a DNI is necessary for me personally. Of course if I feel threatened by someone, I won’t interact with that person. But if a shipper is into content that I don’t like???? I don’t feel the need to say, “I will never interact with you!” That’s....exhausting. Besides, there are plenty of other things we can chat about! :)

I will always share f/os.

I know some people don't like to share and that's their boundary they can draw if they want to (no shade here!), but I've found that if I don't share, it's a very lonely experience. So I always share and I’m happy to interact if we have the same f/o :)

DMs are always open if you need a shoulder to lean on

If you need to dump or vent or whatever, my DMs will always be open so you can chat! It can feel weird, and maybe you'll feel bad because you won't know what to say!!!

That's okay :)

Even if all you want to do is vent and never reply, I'm happy to listen and offer any words of encouragement and support you need to hear! :)

#asks #anonymous #penny chats #i hope that monster of a response was helpful! :P #edit: LOL i just watched my follower count PLUMMET after posting this #don't care #i said what i said #i'm gonna keep spreadin' love around!!! :D

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boognish-worshipper · 3 years ago

Text

Midnight City AU

this is an au where the main characters are all young adults!! (or millennials ig? they’re in their 20s basically) i gave a rundown of what’s what on a diff post,, i’m also splitting it up into diff chapters,, so this is gonna take a looooong time to finish. i’m posting this before i nitpick my writing to the max

it’s basically a lot of references to that point in time, artists, pop culture etc. all the chapters are named after songs from that era (including the name of this au bc i love midnight city and what better way to describe LS ‼️), and the lyrics r usually connected to what the chapter’s about, or about a character dynamic :D i hope this isn’t too cheesy, or sounds off ig. any typos in this were probably over looked bc i constantly reread my writing and rearrange stuff and make sure it sounds good 🥳 hope y’all enjoy !!! i’m also including a tag to find the chapters under :)

//Chapter 1: Crimewave

Trevor would never, ever admit it, but he had fallen into the category known as “post-hipster”. This was a strange era that began culminating, taking LS by storm. Whether he liked it or not, he could never avoid it. Even if he swore up and down he wasn’t like them, it was practically a paradox. Saying he wasn’t like them just made him a branched off version of the thing he denounced. Each aesthetic that was churned out as the 2010s rolled in were tied to a style, a sound, and Trevor couldn’t care less. It’s not like people liked what he liked. He didn’t belong to anything in particular, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t like them. If anything, he just became another obscure genre in the mix.

One of his favorite music groups was a Canadian duo called Crystal Castles. He enjoyed a good number of their songs, developing an interest for electropunk and pop punk. There was something unique about the sound, and it made Trevor feel special, like he discovered some sort of hidden treasure. He was into pop punk groups like Paramore too, but it was something about them that was just different. People knew Paramore. He often lingered around Sterling Lake, where other post-irony hipsters and classic hipsters resided, careful not to fully associate with them. After all, he apparently despised them, even though he participated in their strange… “culture”. If you could even call it that. From time to time he would find himself discussing his favorite artists with whatever semi-normal person was there, making a couple friends himself who weren’t the snooty kind he’d grown used to.

They all loved talking about how exceptional their taste in music was, a wide variety of people hanging around with their own cliques. Some liked Fall Out Boy, while others liked Blink-182, and then there were the weirdos who liked groups like Radiohead. Most of those guys were whiny, proclaiming how misunderstood they were. He knew maybe one Radiohead song at most (he definitely, definitely never cried to “Creep” and even if he did, so what) but never found himself willingly getting into their music. Then you had the nosedivr crowd, which consisted of mostly girls, and the occasional hipster guy that defected. Their taste was.. alright. Consisted of artists like Lana Del Ray and Marina and the Diamonds, who were their idols. He found almost everyone there besides the few friends he made kind of edgy, and not in the cool way. But he figured all hipsters and guys like them were kind of uncool. Don’t even get him started on those other indie rock types. God. He still came back as often as he could though, establishing some kind of routine. Most people there avoided him anyway, which he preferred. He had enough troubles with them in the past. There was one day he grew tired of the people gawking at him, and he launched a hipster right into the lake. So yeah, nobody within their right mind so much as looked in his direction. That was just how he rolled.

Today, he sat on a nearby bench in Sterling Lake’s park, watching some ducks float on water. His usual friends had been there too, seeing his clowncore buddy Wade with his cousin Floyd. Wade was extremely different than the pretentious fucks around them. He had a shit ton of piercings, and ICP was his favorite music group. Floyd on the other hand, fit right in. Almost too much, like it was something he was forced to do. But he did genuinely enjoy Weezer, of all things you could enjoy. Wade started waving at Trevor, while Floyd hid behind him. All he did was awkwardly wave back, turning his attention back to the lake. He liked Wade, but the clown stuff he wore sometimes spooked him. He didn’t pay much mind to his relative. Looking back across the water, he saw someone new, observing the area. Some dude a little above the average height, hands in his pockets walking around. He seemed a bit lost, and Trevor figured he should help if he was. After all, what was this guy doing here? New people didn’t show up often.

“Hey bud, you lost or something?”

“Oh uh, nah not really. I’m just looking for this girl I met a while ago, said she hangs out around here?”

“What she look like? I’m here pretty often.”

“Uhh kinda short, dark brownish hair? Wears fishnet stockings, high waisted shorts or whatever those grunge people are into.”

“Let me guess, she into the Neighborhood?”

“How’d you know?”

“Yeah, that’s Amanda, she’s a bit of a regular. Not too fond of me I must say.”

“How come?”

“She’s just petty towards me.” He said with a shrug. He didn’t feel like relaying his encounters with her if the guy was dating her or something.

“Oh… well d’ya think you could help me find her? I don’t really know anybody else here. I could actually use the help, since you know her.”

“Eh sure, why not.”

It’s not like he had anything better to do. The two began to walk around the park, gravel and dirt crunching beneath their feet.

“So.. what’s this place about?” The strange guy asked.

“Hm? Oh, it’s just one of those places the hipster folks meet up I guess. Don’t understand it much myself, nor do I really like them.”

“Then why do you come here?”

“Dunno. It’s relatively peaceful, those freaks keep to themselves.”

The man, who was only a smidge shorter than Trevor, glared up at him.

“Hey man, don’t call my girl a freak.”

“Ehh I don’t really count her in with the generic skinny jean wearing hipsters. More of a.. what is it called.. nosedivr type. Whatever that stupid website’s called. Why do you think she dresses like that?”

“Huh.. Never really thought to ask her.”

As he thought about the stuff Amanda wore, he took note of how the man next to him was dressed. He sported an olive jacket with a black turtle neck, and a plain pair of jeans. He wore beat up black converse to top it off, and a pair of Rimmers sunglasses sat upon his head. He looked simple, yet distinguished with the way he presented himself, hair neatly combed back. He figured the two would look nice standing next to one another. They would’ve made an attractive couple, if they weren’t dating already, the kind that turns heads. Trevor wasn’t like them. He wore a black beanie over his mullet, and his favorite pair of red Dix sunglasses rested on the bridge of his nose. The rest of his fit looked disheveled. He had thrown on a wrinkled top, solid black with little surf boards and cars along the bottom- he was a sucker for Hawaiian shirts. His pants were tan colored but had some bleach stains, with old combat boots on his feet.

“Yeah, we may not like each other but I don’t really consider her a freak like those guys.”

He jutted a thumb in the direction of a circle of guys huddled around a phone. The man holding the phone had strawberry blonde hair and a clean outfit on. An expensive looking outfit.

“Who are they?”

“The people here I absolutely cannot fucking stand. The genuine hipsters.”

“Oh.. and you’re..?”

“I’m my own kind. I’m not like these losers, all uppity and shit.”

“Right. Gotcha.”

They walked around a bit more before finding the group Amanda was with. She sat on a bench, chatting with a few girls who dressed similarly to her. All of them had black incorporated into their style. She herself had a black jumper on, tucked neatly into the front of her jean shorts. Just like the guy described, she had fishnets on under them, skater shoes to match. Loose braids fell on her shoulders, and a small black choker was wrapped around her neck.

“Oh, there he is now! Babe! Over here!”

She narrowed her eyes upon seeing Trevor standing next to him.

“Hello, Trevor.” She huffed.

“Relax, I was helping your boyfriend or whatever look for you.”

Her face softened slightly, but still kept a small glare in his direction. She pressed her lips together tight before replying.

“Thanks, I guess.”

“Yup.”

The man turned to face Trevor, sticking out a hand.

“Hey, thanks for showing me around. Trevor, is it?”

“Don’t wear it out.”

He shook his hand, noticing how soft it was. It was in stark contrast to his own, which was rough and calloused.

“Name’s Michael. I’ll see you around most likely? Thanks again.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

Amanda huffed again, nudging Michael’s shoulder.

“Let’s go hun, Bean Machine closes soon!”

“I’m comin’ I’m comin’!”

The two sauntered off, hand in hand. Trevor stood dumbly, watching them walk away. He was right. They did look good together. He wondered if he would actually see this Michael again, kicking a rock. He went back to the bench he originally sat at, putting his earbuds in, listening to some Crystal Castles again to pass the time. The beat thumped in his ears, and all he could think was how much better this shit was compared to that club music shit that played on every radio station in a 5 foot radius. He sat there, scrolling through his own secret nosedivr account, reblogging some photo of a lit cigarette. Right before a hand touched his shoulder causing him to jump.

“What the fuck- Oh. Ron.”

Ron was another friend of Trevor’s, a guy he had met outside one of the iFruit stores talking about how “they’re tapping the phones they sell in there!” and all that conspiracy nonsense. He was a paranoid guy, but Trevor kind of liked that about him. Those were the kind of freaks he liked. He was shorter than Trevor, sort of frail in stature. He wore a bright red windbreaker over a faded tourist tee that read “I went to Liberty City and all I got was this lousy t-shirt!”, along with khaki colored cargo shorts. It didn’t help that he wore some goofy looking bucket hat, and socks with sandals. He dressed like someone’s middle aged father.

“Trevor! Have you seen Wade around anywhere?”

“Last I checked, he was with Floyd.”

“Did he say where he was going?”

“Uh no, but my best bet is they went to that vinyl shop Floyd’s girlfriend works at.”

“Will ya come with me to find him?”

“Now why the fuck would I do that? What do you need him for?”

“Well I- I uh- um..”

“I uh! I uh! Spit it out Ron!”

“It’s about the Merryweather Night Club.”

Merryweather was a big organization that had a wide range of private clubs all over the country, and complimentary body guards to suit. They were all expensive as fuck, and anywhere they settled jacked up the prices of everything else. A lot of neighborhoods became gentrified as a result, and people actually considered it a good thing. What a fucking joke. Trevor of course couldn’t stand it. He hated bullies, and Merryweather was no exception. He’d been wanting to dismantle the club since they settled in LS, seeing as they only amplified the fake feel of the city. Let’s just say he’s gotten into more than a few scuffles with the club. And let’s just say it ended with someone getting stabbed as a result. The guy had it coming to him anyway. Between bouncers and the clubbers, they didn’t like Trevor or his kind loitering around the joint. It didn’t stop him from plotting some sort of revenge though. Ron per usual was on board, his reason being Merryweather’s violent history that had been swept under the rug. They were rather forceful relocating people who had lived in certain neighborhoods for years, Ron being one of their victims. Wade only decided to tag along because he wanted to be included.

“Ah fuck, what’d those bastards do now?”

“They’re throwing some big party!”

“…What fucking for?”

“All I know some guy’s coming to visit, somebody they labeled important and he’s-“

“Woah woah woah wait, Ron. Who?”

“Steve Haines.” He breathed out, careful not to be overheard.

Trevor’s eyes widened, his gaze shooting over to the posse he had poked fun of before. Steve was talking to the group, all of them doing that fake laugh they always did. God, even their humor was pretentious.

“Those fucking hipsters!” He hissed.

“I abhor them, you know that-“

“I know. I know. But, that Weston guy’s gonna be there with him-“

“Weston? Devin Weston?”

If Trevor hated hipsters, then he utterly loathed rich daddy’s money boys like Devin Weston. He had only gotten that stupid fucking night club because his father paid Don Percival enough money to let Devin do whatever he pleased with the Merryweather body guards. It was an elitist club, and they only allowed the best of the best in there.

“What the fuck’s going on there?”

“Something to do with those guys he hangs out with. I think they’re doing something major, expansion maybe-”

“And him and Devin are working together or..?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t hear much after that, that’s why I wanted to grab you and Wade and-”

“Then let’s fucking go get him, Ron!”

The two rushed out of there, heading for the vinyl store to look for Wade. Trevor knew a shit storm was coming, and he absolutely couldn’t wait.

//the next chapter’s gonna be longer i promise lolz

#gta v #grand theft auto v #michael de santa #trevor philips #young trikey #franklin clinton #lamar davis #lester crest #amanda de santa #steve haines #midnight city au

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dessarious · 4 years ago

Text

Misconceptions, Miscommunication, and Misinformation Pt95

AO3 Beginning Previous Next

Ladybug and Discorde showed up at the Agreste Mansion two days later. Chloe had insisted she not go alone and honestly Marinette was more than happy not being alone with Adrien. She did decide to tell Chloe that Adrien was Chat. Given his track record she was assuming he’d out himself while they were there and she didn’t want to be responsible for whatever Chloe would do if he was in front of her when she found out. Considering she’d had to transform to keep her girlfriend from commiting murder as it was, she was fairly certian Adrien would have been turned to dust before she could move if that had happened.

She rang the bell and waited. Discorde was bouncing from foot to foot and Ladybug just waited for the explosion.

“I don’t like this. You don’t owe him anything.” They’d had this argument already, a few times.

“We’re not here for him. We’re here for Mme. Agreste.” Discorde just scowled at the pavement. She really hoped she could figure this out quickly. The door jerked open to reveal Adrien with a besotted grin on his face. That turned into a sneer as soon as he caught sight of Discorde.

“I asked for you, not your sidekick.” She reached out to grab Discorde’s arm before she’d even moved and could feel the tenseness in her. This was going to be a disaster.

“We’re partners and it’s a packaged deal. It’s both of us or neither.” The glared he turned on her was almost hateful.

“Where was this loyalty when Chat lost his Miraculous?” Was he seriously trying to guilt trip her? Her mouth kicked into gear before she could even process the indignant rage coursing through her.

“The same place he was during Akuma attacks; absent.” Given the way he reeled back she was afraid for a moment that she’d physically struck him, but she was still holding onto Discorde so she couldn’t have. He started sputtering incoherently and she had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. “Either show us why we’re here or let us leave. The choice is yours.” The longer they were here the more likely things would go wrong. Well, more wrong. Adrien grumbled something under his breath but did move aside so they could enter.

“I moved her to one of the bedrooms. Father had her hidden away under the house.” He sounded mostly indignant but she could hear real concern underneath as well.

“I’ll do whatever I can to help her Adrien. If it really was just the Miraculous that caused the coma I should be able to reverse it.” It would be a fairly simple task and Tikki had told her exactly what to do. If Gabriel had just sent Nooroo to find the Guardian in the beginning, none of the rest would have been necessary. That more than anything made her hate Gabriel. He’d put Paris through hell for his own selfish desire to wish for his perfect life. Adrien visibly relaxed at her words.

“Thank you. Given who my father turned out to be I wasn’t expecting you to come at all.” The only thing that went through her head was that of all people, he should know her better than that. It was far more frustrating than she wanted to admit.

“I’m not going to punish you or your mother for Gabriel’s actions, that would make me petty and vindictive.” The words came out harsher than she meant them to but she couldn’t help it. Given how tense Discorde was she also hoped the snark would keep her partner from doing something stupid. Rather than taking offense, Adrien just seemed confused by the statement. She felt a twinge of sympathy when she realized that was most likely what his father had always done to him. Adrien opened one of the doors and they entered to find Mme. Agreste lying peacefully on the bed. It was a bit creepy if she was being honest.

Before walking over to the bed she looked to Discorde who gave her a nod. She didn’t think Adrien would lie about this being his mother but at this point it wasn’t a chance she wanted to take. Chloe had known the woman more or less since birth so it was nice to have it verified. As she studied the woman, and the magic surrounding her, Ladybug became more agitated. It was exactly as Tikki had explained to her which meant all of this was unnecessary. Had the man simply listened to Nooroo Master Fu could have revived her in the beginning. But no, Gabriel decided to use the opportunity to remake his entire life into what he wanted.

“I can revive her.” Adrien let out a relieved breath. “But you may want to think about what happens after before I do. She’s been in this coma for over three years. It's going to be very disconcerting to wake up now.” He just frowned in thought for a moment.

“I’ll go get Nathalie. She hasn’t changed, at least not nearly as much as I have, and mom always trusted her.” As soon as Adrien left the room Discorde grabbed her hand and squeezed. She’d told her no physical contact around Adrien because she really didn’t want to deal with his reaction. She just gave her partner a tired smile

“I’m okay, just frustrated. I’m starting to understand why Adrien doesn’t think there’s anything wrong with his behavior.” She really hoped having his mother back would help change him for the better. For his sake as much as anyone else's. Discord looked guilty.

“Given that his only real influences after his mother disappeared were Gabriel and me it’s not really surprising.” The words were soft but Ladybug felt the weight of them.

“You’ve changed and so can he if he wants to. None of this is your fault.” Discorde wouldn’t meet her eyes and Ladybug sighed. It seemed like every time they got past one guilt trip another popped up. It was times like this she wished they were a couple years older so they could just say screw it and go somewhere they weren’t constantly reminded of the past. At least for a little while.

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#maribat #bffmaridami #marinette dupain cheng #chloe bourgeois #adrien agreste

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fictropes · 4 years ago

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oh boy i sure did write many words in 2020

Hi! I am copying people due to i want to. This is a lil (well... 63) round up of all the fics I wrote this year! Cos i’m very evil @ myself and writing fic and think i’m either not doing enough, or not doing it good enough, so i wanna full list of what I actually did so I can see my own accomplishments and can maybe... clap 4 myself for once. And honestly writing has helped MASSIVELY with my depression so.. that’s a bonus.

ALSO. this is a big huge thankyou to everyone! I only joined here + started writing in august and you’ve all been so so nice and welcoming and supportive <333 ;_; and I know they say write for yourself... but honestly peoples comments and excitement about my stuff has just been really, really lovely and I would never have written this much without all of you cheering me on<3.

so here is a list of everything i’ve written, organised by length and everything, so if you find yourself bored over the holidays... have a lil browse. (Sorry if u are on mobile and this doesn’t show as a read more)

Chaptered:

Can we try again? series (M) Complete - 35k - “Yeah, Phil. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Dan answers, softer than he’d wanted because he already knows what he’s about to do next.(or Dan doesn't turn up in 2009 and bumps into Phil 11 years later at a youtube convention 2. I like cupcakes, especially the gay variety (M) Complete - 30k - Firstly, Dan was 29. How was that a mature student?Secondly, his actual book was on the university fucking syllabus.(or the one in which Dan tries university again in a desperate attempt to prolong his procrastination, and his lecturer Phil is apparently something of a fan) 3. 7 Letters series (M) Complete - 9k - Your penpal can be the person you live with, actually. 4. There's Beans in Here (T) Complete - 2k - Phil has his wisdom teeth removed; Phil says many questionable things. 5. Roadtrip (E) Complete - 8k - “Exactly. I am right, as always.”“As always.” Dan agrees.Series 6. night shift, please (E) Wip - 27k I PROMISE THIS WILL COME BACK IN 2021 - Ten years and he’ll never get over how early he has to get up sometimes. In all honesty he prefers the night shift. 7. Still Not Calling it Fate (M) Wip - 14k - It’s become a bit of a thing, a bit of a thing that everyone he crosses paths with takes the piss out of him for 8. when i met you, a blue rush began (M) Complete - 5k - They end up in a small restaurant overlooking the sea, everything here is so blue. The sky, the sea, Phil’s eyes, the shirt he’s wearing buttoned up all the way to the top. 9. Luggage Tags (E) Complete - 2.5k - Just because it looks like your suitcase, it doesn't necessarily mean that it is. 10. Demon in the sack (E) Complete - 2.5k - Dan’s leg jiggles beneath his desk, knee hitting the table as he tries to force himself to hang up and ring the number he was supposed to ring— he doesn’t, he can’t. Long ( for me) oneshots (3k+) 11. Electronics and the Phil's who break them (M) Complete - 9k - The first time’s an accident, a proper accident— a Phil forgot how to hold his cup and now he’s watching his coffee seep into his keyboard type accident. 12. A Letter of Specifics (T) Complete - 4k - You'll know it's your soulmate because no one else on earth could be doing what they're doing. 13. The Benefits of A Weak Floor (M) Complete - 4k - He quite literally falls through Dan’s ceiling. 14. 10:35 on a Thursday (E) Complete - 3.7k - He’s tapping his pen against the paper, acting as though he isn’t asking Phil to take a sex quiz at 10:35am on a Thursday morning. 15. 2009, catboys (T) Complete - 3.2k - “You have your own ears, can’t have four.”“Why?” 16. Wrong Room (T) Complete - 3k - “Congratulations!’’ And he was expecting to hear a cry, or at least his mother telling him to be quiet because a certain baby was sleeping. Instead he heard the deep clear of a throat, a rustling of sheets. 2k-3k oneshots 17. Dinner with a stranger (T) Complete - 2.5k - @amazingphl hi! second year of doing this, sooo if anyone has nowhere to go for Christmas dinner I am once again offering..my flat (and by extension me) ;oSeries 18. Easy Lover (M) Complete - 2.4k - ''Yeah. We're always fine.'' It was always fine. It was always easy, despite always behind hard. 19. Cold Season (M) Complete - 2k - Dan is ill, insatiable and another word beginning with I. 1k-2k oneshots 20. Morose men on rooftops (T) Complete - 1.9k - “Dunno, maybe chatting up morose men on roofs is my thing.” He laughs, and it’s a nice noise. 21. Love with tongues of fire (T) Complete - 1.7k - So when Dan waltzed into the room, declaring his hunger Phil thought nothing of it. Just another night for another takeaway. 22. Your Rocks are my Rocks (T) Complete - 1.7k - Phil wants a new rock for Norman, Dan wants a peaceful life. 23. Joint Content (M) Complete - 1.6k - It started of a as a joke— a Joint Content joke. 24. 24/7 Fantasies (M) Complete - 1.5k - He thinks about Dan 24/7, constantly in two separate fantasies 25. A Conversation in Multiple Hallways (T) Complete - 1.5k - You're still here then? 26. Sharing Space (T) Complete - 1.5k - It's 2010 and dan has had a day. 27. The Obvious (T) Complete - 1.5k - "Can I use that?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, already scrawling it beneath the only three words he currently has— I love you. 28. I'm Thinking of Ending Things (T) Complete - 1.5k - Dan hears half a conversation, jumps to one whole conclusion. 29. Love Language of the Tactile (T) Complete - 1.4k - “I’m just— that’s a hypothetical.” Dan leans in this time, takes the touches that Phil always so freely gives away. “Can’t kiss in secret rooms if I leave.” 30. Don't Let the Self-Doubt Ruin You (T) Complete - 1.3k - “I’m here.” “Yeah, you’re here.” 31. Conflict Resolution (T) Complete - 1.3k - Following recent events we’ve decided it best we take a combative approach to your current workplace issues, we have booked you into a conflict resolution class this Thursday afternoon - we will not be paying you to attend. 32. when it comes to love (i want a slow hand) (E) Complete - 1.2k - And there it is, the refusal of anything in return. This is just for Dan and it always will be. 33. You're Still The one (T) Complete - 1.1k - “What’re you thinking about?” “You.” 34. Teach Me, Dad. (T) Complete - 1k - "Do you think I could be the next Mozart?” 35. The Logistics of a Clone (M) Complete - 1k - “I don’t think that’s a clone, though, like maybe more of a Doppelgänger.” Dan doesn’t know why they’re delving so deep into this, why he’s so damn bothered about being right. “It’s just literally you.” 36. All's fair in Love and Monopoly (T) Complete - 1k - Phil does not play by the rules, Dan lets him win anyway. Under 1k oneshots 37. Hide out in your heart (E) Complete - 0.9k - The second time Dan comes to visit it’s different. 38. Oh, there you are. (G) Complete - 0.9k - So after all this, after everything, he doesn’t think anything of it when someone else slips into his dms. 39. The Boy has Attitude (T) Complete - 0.9k - “You didn’t tell me you looked like this.”“Like what?”“This!” Phil’s waving a physical copy of the magazine in his face— so that’s where he’d been. 40. Hairties (and how not to use them) (M) Complete - 0.8k - “Why would you do that? Let us settle in, nice and slow and— gently does it.” 41. The Second Apartment. (T) Complete - 0.8k - It’s a stop-gap apartment, a we’re going to get our forever home after this. 42. Japan, 2019. (G) Complete - 0.8k - NO summary, just an obviously I was going to write this after phil's post 43. Doting Man (T) Complete - 0.7k - They’re both drunk, Phil more so— definitely more so.Series 44. Imposter (T) Complete - 0.7k - Among us is.. a bastard. 45. Ratemyprofessors.com (M) Complete - 0.7k - ‘Maybe if that Phil bloke from the English dep he’s always staring at fucked him he’d stop being so uptight’ 46. Failed Attempts (T) Complete - 0.7k - Dan enlists the help of Phil for his latest Instagram. 47. Bonus Prize (M) Complete - 0.7k - Phil Trash Number One 48. Feels like home (G) Complete - 0.7k - Home is where the Phil is. 49. We can make Forever work (T) Complete - 0.7k - It’s a moment of realising forever may sound too much to people, but we’ll get through everything together— we don’t have any other choice. 50. Scene in the Kitchen (T) Complete - 0.7k - New place 51. 4'11 (T) Complete - 0.6k - Dan is baby 52. Pillow Imprints (T) Complete - 0.6k - Dan is a menace, and Phil loves him anyway. 53. Parachute Jacket (T) Complete - 0.5k - Dan thinks Phil is obsessed with them Those few times I thougt I was goddamn Ri**ard S*ken 54. Home (G) Complete - 0.7k - It’s their forever home, because their actual forever lives inside of it. 55. secrets spoken in empty rooms (T) Complete - 1k - So he wants to be the same, but he wants Dan more. 56. Separately Together (T) Complete - 0.9k - Phil’s soft hands and even softer words. It gets harder to leave. Gets to the point where Dan turns off an alarm just so he misses the train. 57. It's not hard to fall (T) Complete - 0.7k - Still a little bit of your words I long to hear Some more Epistolary (apart from 7 letters) 58. A Play in One Act (T) Complete - 1.1k - [Manchester Piccadilly train-station, midday, October 19th, 2009.] 59. R/AITA (T) Complete - 0.8k - AM I THE ASSHOLE FOR MAKING MY BOYFRIEND BE A WORM?Series 60. Lonely Hearts (T) Complete - 1.8k - I will not say you were crying on the tube (out of politeness) 61. Conversations of the Lazy Kind (T) Complete - 1k - eggs? wot? Smells like eggs

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ichorizaki · 4 years ago

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truth or dare! ━ b.k.

꒰ ❛ genre ❜ ꒱ — fluff, crack-ish

꒰ ❛ pairing ❜ ꒱ — bokutō kōtarō x gn!reader

꒰ ❛ warnings ❜ ꒱ — vulgar language, mentions of alcohol, drunk!reader, bo being a lovely dumbass<3

꒰ ❛ word count ❜ ꒱ — 1.8k

˚ ༘ˀˀ ꒰‧⁺ a text from sol — ✎ˀ my first fic !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!! no thoughts, head empty, just exclamation marks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! happy bornday to my bobo bb<33 + mia [ @samuthots ] wanted me to tag her so i am doing so n e r v ou s l y-

-`,✎ synopsis! ; ♡ drunken confessions of love aren’t always received well, which was why bokutō kōtarō was surprised that his crush had reciprocated his feelings.

Bokutō Kōtarō knew how to handle his liquor well. He was an athlete after all, so it was only natural to be one of the few somewhat sober people among a sea of absolutely shit-faced college students. He didn’t know why Kuroo invited him to this godforsaken party. It was something along the lines of someone knowing somebody who knew somebody. Though he may be a little slow in certain areas, he wasn’t dumb enough to not realise that it was just an invitation to another frat party.

He would much rather be somewhere else at that moment. Maybe somewhere with his best of friends where he could get absolutely hammered and let loose with no inhibitions at all. Sure, he loved crowds but not ones that were too drunk to even hold a proper sentence. His wish was granted by none other than the same person who invited him to the party and also left him on his own (on accident or not, he didn’t know).

So there he sat in a circle, playing a mashup game of Truth or Dare and Spin the Bottle with his beloved friends and a very, very attractive you. There were several drunken people in the circle, some that he didn’t recognise, but he didn’t need to complain when he was sitting right across you.

Your name is the only name that set his heart on fire and made his stomach perform weird flips. Your smile is the only smile that made his face flush pink and stumble over his sentences. You were the only one who could make him nervous just by being there because you were just that stunning to him.

Akaashi always had the prettiest friends, but you were the one that stood out to him. Finding out that you were an angel both inside and out was pretty much one of his greatest accomplishments in the history of everything.

Everyone in his inner circle was well acquainted with his hopeless crush on you. New Instagram post? Screenshotted and sent to his group chat to fawn over you. Double-taps the picture countless of times like as if he could give more than one like. But comment? Oh, he could never. You smiled at him in the hallway on the way to your class in the next building over? Screams at his group chat over how adorable you are with his heart ramming dangerously against his rib cage. You guys bumped into one another on campus? He’s never going to wash that shirt because it made contact with you.

He knew next to nothing about you besides your major and that you were Akaashi’s friend. He should probably ask you on a date, but he was too scared because you two were practically strangers. But then again, he wouldn’t know if he didn’t try, but–⁠

“Earth to Bo!”

He forced himself out of his little reverie and stared back at an even more flushed you. How many drinks have you had?

“Dude, did you not hear Y/N?” Kuroo snickered teasingly. “Too busy daydreaming about them when they’re literally right in front of you? C’mon, dude.”

“Kuroo, shut your whore mouth.” He flipped the bedheaded male off.

“Bo! Eyes on me, I asked you truth or dare!” Your words, albeit slightly slurred, came out as a cute little whine that sent his heart pacing at an alarming rate. Wait, you asked him? His eyes looked down at the unopened bottle of Coke with the tab pointed at him. “Bo. Truth or dare?” You repeated once again.

“Uh . . truth!” He stammered, which garnered giggles from a slightly drunken Akaashi and the rest of the group.

“Okay!” You exclaimed cheerfully with a childlike grin on your face. How could you be so cute? “Truth—do you wanna kiss me?” Does he want to WHAT?!

“Wait– dare.”

“Eh . . then . . then . . I dare you to kiss me!”

“You– huh!?” His brows furrowed, lips jutting outward in a confused pout as he tilted his head to the right ever so slightly. Of course he wanted to kiss you. Of course he wanted to hold your smaller frame in his arms and literally steal your breath away but you were drunk. You were drunk! He couldn’t do that to you; you probably didn’t know what you were doing or saying.

“Kiss! Gimme– gimme k—iss, Bo.” Your whines were louder and they were a melody against the jarring harmony of Kuroo’s dying hyena laughter.

“Y/N, I can’t possibly do that when you’re this drunk,” he sullenly sighed. A loudly whimpered a “Why not?” with those damned puppy eyes of yours and he almost felt compelled to pull you into his laps and make out with you.

“Bokutō-san,” Akaashi, the graceful voice of reason, shifted in his spot next to him, “Isn’t this clear indication that your feelings for Y/N are reciprocated?”

“Akaashi!” It was then his turn to whine out in protest. He could still hear your drunken pleas to want to be kissed by him and how he was cheating by flouting the game. “I mean, yeah, but I’m not gonna kiss them when they’re that drunk. I want our first kiss to be memorable.”

“Bobo, that’s sweet, so let’s go on a date right now!” You cheered happily, catching him off guard as you threw your body onto him.

“Sweetheart, it’s two in the morning.”

“Time is a concept and you’re so cuddly,” you swooned, shamelessly burying your face deeper into his chest. God, you were too cute. He felt his neck burn up as Kuroo’s ridiculous laughter began to envelope the whole group in a heavy blanket.

So the both of you stayed like that for the rest of the game; him, not moving an inch so you could feel comfortable, and you, who had peacefully dozed off halfway through the game in his arms without a kiss from him.

People began to leave after lounging for a while at Kuroo’s dorm. Bokuto lived in the same building, just a few floors down, so it wouldn’t be a problem if it weren’t for the sleeping you in his arms. If he were brave enough, he would bring you to his dorm knowing that Akaashi would offer his bed for your sake. He wanted to do the responsible thing and tuck you into your bed in your dorm, knowing that you’ll be safe there, but the problem lies therein: he hadn’t an inkling of an idea where your dorm was.

You looked so peaceful in his arms that it almost felt painful for him to let you go. He couldn’t stop staring at your sleeping face, your lush lips parted the slightest bit and he could tell that you were dreaming from the way your eyeballs shifted beneath the soft skin of your eyelids. Were you dreaming of something nice? Were you dreaming of him and you, living a fantasy that would make you forget the realities of the embarrassing scene from earlier? With you sound asleep in his arms, he felt like sleeping too.

“Bokutō-san.” He looked up to see Akaashi squatting before him with all of you three’s belongings on his person. “Their dorm access card is in their bag. Their dorm is near ours’.”

It took everything in him to not scream out loud. Instead, he chose to muffle his screams and all that came out were confused, strangled noises from his throat begging for the younger male to elaborate further. All this while, you were so close within his grasp but like sand you just fell between his fingers! Well, it kinda made sense since your classes took place all the way across the campus. But still!

When Bokutō lifted you in a bridal carry as he stood up, he had his eyes on you the whole time, praying to whatever gods who would heed his call to not let you wake up. The last thing he wanted to do was interrupt your sleep.

True enough (not that he doubted Akaashi’s words in the slightest in the first place) you resided close to the both of them. You were living four doors down to them, closer to the lift lobby. Akaashi knocked on the door experimentally to see if your roommate was awake before doing anything else. Thankfully, your roommate was awake.

“No wonder Y/N wasn’t picking up any of my calls,” they heaved a sigh of relief, slicking their short dyed hair back. The tattoos that adorned their pale skin and piercings on their ears and lip would have thrown Bokutō off if it wasn’t for the Cinnamoroll pyjama top they sported. “Thanks for bringing them back. I was dead worried.”

“It’s no problem,” Akaashi answered for the both of them. Your roommate led them in and directed the two to your room, and Bokutō tenderly tucked you into bed. He went through the trouble of asking your roommate to fluff up your pillows and opening up the windows for fresh air while he removed your socks and any outer layer of clothes. He was ready to leave until he heard you mumble his name in the midst of your dreamlike state.

“Oh, so you’re Bokutō.” He turned to your roommate, unable to say anything but choke out a strangled “Yes?” On their way out, your roommate told them that you wouldn’t stop talking about him whenever you could. He would respond under normal circumstances, but he didn’t want to risk you waking up. It would be a lie if he admitted that it didn’t inflate his ego. When Bokutō and Akaashi arrived at their shared dorm, the former was able to sleep with a peaceful smile on his face knowing that his crush liked him back.

Bokutō thought he wouldn’t see you for another two days at least, so when you were so enthusiastically running towards him while he was on the way to practice the afternoon after, he couldn’t help but run towards you like a puppy reuniting with his owner after years of separation.

“Y/N!” His voice boomed like thunder in the open grounds of campus as he met you halfway.

“Bokutō-kun!” You mimicked his tone, slowing to a stop just an arm’s reach away from him. You had that energetic smile and the sparkle in your eyes that made his stomach flutter. If he was making you smile like that, he would quite literally pass out that moment. “Bokutō-kun, truth or dare?” His smile would’ve dropped to morph into an expression of pure confusion but your smile was just so addicting that his face was just mirroring yours.

“Hmm . . . let’s go with dare.”

“M’kay!” He thought it was impossible for your smile to get any wider, but he was proven wrong. “I dare you to go out on a date with me.” Now he was grinning ear to ear like a lovestruck fool.

“How does this Friday at seven sound?”

“It’s a date!”

#bokuto kotarou x reader #bokuto x reader #haikyuu x reader #gn!reader #bokuto kotarou #bokuto #haikyuu x gn!reader #haikyuu x you #bokuto x you #bokuto kotarou x you #haikyuu fluff #hq fics #hq x you #hq x reader #hq bokuto #hq fic #hq x y/n #hq #꒰⚡️꒱ ⨾ zeus’ thunderbolt

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marshmallowprotection · 4 years ago

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Kait Reacts To The AE 1/?

Okay, so I went ahead and did the start tonight but I’ll be repeating in the morning to ensure that I start on time. I just couldn’t wait until 9AM to be able to see my man again. Here we go, spoilers ahead. This is your warning not to not click the Read More or you will be spoiled. I will be posting these off and on as I play through the AE, but when I finish, I’ll definitely collect my thoughts and write out a long opinion piece. This is more or less you watching me react to the game.

Blacklist the Tags [#KaitReactsToTheAE, and #SaeranAfterEnding] if you don’t want to see me talking about this. I’m serious. Do not click this if you do not want spoilers.

This is your warning. If you click this, it is of your own volition. I’m only talking about what happens in the initial Chatroom in this post.

It’s been Two Weeks. I feared that it was going to be a lot longer for this. Two weeks for them and Two Years for me. Oh boy, okay. This man is trying to hide and act like he did no wrong and the public is rightly coming after him. However, we learn right away that the man is hidden and out of the way. He was removed from his office but he’s nowhere to be seen.

The trials and investigations are on hold?

You know what. I’m okay with this. Seven’s drink is popular and you know how he joked that he was selling them? Well, Yoosung explains that he actually got someone to fund his product and it’s selling like hot cakes. People are buying it like crazy to support Saeran and Saeyoung. Yoosung even has an icon in the game for it.

I thought it was a joke, but they’re actually serious with the drink. I knew that it wouldn’t be profit for him. Good on Saeyoung. Now onto the chatroom itself that it opens up with. It’s been two weeks since the events of the ending of the Happy Ending. We’re on our way today to work together to bring together the second video presentation at C&R. Most of the chat is catching up us to speed on what’s been going on.

Everyone is traveling to C&R. Saeran and myself are already there, so that’s to be expected. We’re just waiting on Zen and Yoosung to get to the building so we can have our meeting. We’re working on what we’re supposed to do. Here’s the thing though, as we’re talking, we’re pointing out how the RFA has steadily got their faces known. Even Yoosung.

Everyone is a pointed celebrity at this point. Wild. I chuckled about that. As it turns out, we’re supposed to be opening RFA membership to people very soon, like, not to the Chatroom or anything, but assumedly to allow our group to grow much better and bigger as we care for others.

I’m not against that but something does feel off even as we’re all chatting and talking. We come up with a few ideas, even tossing out that Saeran should go into the video with Zen this time to show we’re serious. He’s okay with that in this manner of speaking as long as it doesn’t put Saeyoung into danger from wherever he’s being kept.

What bothers me is why the Prime Minister isn’t being investigated anymore. Something is very wrong about that. He’s got hooks somewhere and I don’t know how to feel about that. Something just... feels wrong.

You know that it’s off because... V.

You’re given time and time to ask about V as well.

V is coming to the meeting. I didn’t expect that, to be honest with you. What’s more than that is the RFA knows about Mint Eye know to an extent, and since Jumin has heard from the former members, he’s going to drop a bombshell here soon. That comes later, I’m getting ahead of myself here. I cannot unpack what happened in the visual novel tonight.

Anyways, Saeran and myself here have had this talk before! Back on the 11th day, remember?

Me: Saeran... shouldn’t we tell them about Rika?

They ask about Mint Eye. Saeran says he needs to talk to V today first. We agree with him. We know that things have to handled really specifically but we stand by Saeran in this. We both hold hands and know that we’ll have to talk about this very soon.

It may be sooner then we want.

HIGHLIGHT FROM THE CHAT:

SHUT THE FUCK UP THIS IS THE ONLY THING i CARE ABOUT. SHUT THE FUCK UP THIS IS THE ONLY THING i CARE ABOUT.

OH MY FUCKING GOD. I WAS FUCKING REELING FOR A MINUTE AND NOW IT HITS ME ABOUT SAERAN. SAERAN HAS HIS OWN FUCKING EMOJIS. SLAP ME SIDEWAYS AND CALL ME STUPID, I’M IN LOVE WITH A MAN.

Don’t mind me, it’s just us, being cute as fuck:

Alright, there’s a lot to unpack in the Visual Novel that takes place after this and I’m going to talking about that later in my larger post about the events of what will take place in the AE. I hope this gives you a little taste of what’s happening in the After Ending and I’ll be sure to share more of my thoughts on the matter in the coming days.

Like, so much happened in the initial part of the first event that it took me literally 30 minutes to do what I did. I’m not surprised anymore that it took Cheritz this damn long to do it. Forgive me if there’s errors here, I’m still reeling from shock and delight and awe.

#KaitReactsToTheAE #Kait Reacts To The AE #saeran after ending #SaeranAfterEnding #mm #mysme #mysticmessenger #mystic messenger #saeran choi #choi saeran #saeran #mod kait #character analysis

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alias-b · 4 years ago

Text

sins of my youth. 019

Billy Hargrove x OC! Evie Fenny~ Also posted to my AO3

Summary: It was common knowledge that Billy Hargrove hated Hawkins. Hated Cherry Lane. Even loathed the strange girl next door. Evie Fenny wasn’t too fond of the chaotic Cali transfer either. An awful high school tradition sparks a chain of events that changes everything, ultimately bringing two frayed souls together.

A/N: Hey everyone!! I know it's been quieter around here, but enjoy the chapter I hope! Sort of sweet filler. Billy nurses a hungover Evie back to life as they reach a common ground with their relationship. Evie returns to school as the new Keg King. Chp title is after that Depeche Mode song. TW: Light light mention of a past r*pe/abuse & Pica. Smut!!

***My tag list is wide open, just shoot me a msg to join it! Chat with me about the chapter if you have the time! Enjoy! xoxo

Chapter 19: One Caress

Death. Hot, swampy death. Somehow mixed with frigid chills.

Evie cracked her eyes to light and moaned. Loud enough to wake the body spread on his back next to her. Billy spied her. Curls spiraling endless directions. Knotted all over.

Face pressed into the pillows, Evie held her thudding brain. Figured it might be unspooling around a cracked skull. There was movement as Billy reached over her to pull the curtains further closed and block the early morning sun.

“You seriously woke up at seven with that bad a hangover. Figured you’d sleep in longer. Must be a pride thing.” Billy hummed and draped his arm over her. Casual as can be to tuck back in. He made this rumbling sound into her shoulder blade and sighed out.

Evie realized finally she wasn’t alone and scrambled up, almost tumbling over the bottom edge of the bed if Billy hadn't snatched her wrist.

“Easy!” Came the sharp hiss. “Take a moment to remember last night if you can.” Brown eyes squinted to blink at him. Blurring the gold honey of him together. Billy made a face. “Jesus, you’re looking at me like I’m taking a dump here, Evangeline.”

“Oh, jeez,” Evie fisted her curls so he let go. Her eyes began to dart, finding the events and piecing them. Little by little. “Jesus Dolly Parton Christ.”

“That’s some poetry I like.” Billy reclined, covered in a loose sheet looking his insufferable cupid self. One hand behind his head while he tapped a rhythm into his abs. Evie moaned again, curling up toward the curtains.

“I did a keg stand…”

“Oh, yeah, you did.” Blue eyes rolled. “Your highness.”

“Did I puke on anyone?”

“Just some sorry ass purple primroses.” He’d snarked with some amusement. “You almost got me, but I aimed you just fine.”

“Shit. I’m-”

“You’re gonna piss me off if you apologize again. That’s a stupid girl habit you need to shake.”

“Stupid girl habit, pfffs. I’m Billy Hargrove. I'm perfect and glowy with the face of a damn cherub. Know-it-all.” Evie huffed and mumbled to mock him but Billy continued.

“You just did to me what I did to Harrington. Figure I had it coming. I’m still Billy-The Shit-Hargrove. Smoke and mirrors as you think.” His chest rose and air blew out his mouth. “We didn’t do anything, I just helped you home as you poured your tasty heart out.”

“Yeah, uh… It’s all coming back. Argh...” Evie rubbed her face and aimlessly waved for him to stop talking. She noticed Billy still had his jeans on, no shirt. Then, spied her own outfit under the robe. “The hell are we wearing?”

“You were keen to flash me those Fenny wiles so I tied you into the drunk girl straitjacket. Took some wrangling, but I think I earned the gold,” he blinked, “and I didn’t wear anything under the denim. I figured jeans were better than you waking to my huge, raw morning wood...unless you’re into that.”

He winked which earned him that scrunchy scowl he loved to see on her face.

Evie collapsed back on her front. Cursing daylight. Lingering black makeup still smeared around her eyes.

“Okay, well, I can die now. Officially. Thank you, Billy, for bearing witness.”

“No, no, I’m nursing you back to health today. We both smell like party. Get up. Water. Pills. Shower. Gonna shower at my place and then I’m coming back for breakfast. I’ll make your birthday up to you if you’ll let me. Hope you let me, cause I’ll bug you another two months until you don’t.” Fingers tugged for messy curls until she grumbled.

Evie poked those bright eyes up.

“There was talk of a couch day. I remember.”

“You remember everything?” Thick lashes batted the vulnerability away. She softened.

“Everything. Feel like death,” she said, “but waking up in your arms wasn’t so bad.” Billy brightened, liking that. Maybe too much because he looked smug. “So, the couch. You and me. Us. Can you manage that? Relaxing with casual stimulation.”

“Oh, say stimulation again. Slower,” Billy uttered and Evie rolled her eyes. “Gonna let me come back over?”

“Maybe.” She hitched and whined, ruffling her curls. “Knowing my mom, she’s gonna stay until closing. Around six or seven tonight, she might go party straight from the shop. She's made that a habit on weekends. I don’t know, as this year is going she’s just home less. City friends. Dating. And I feel bad cause it’s almost easier.”

Billy didn’t comment.

“My throat still hurts from last night and we do smell pretty ripe...gonna shower. Clean these sheets too.”

“We haven’t even made a proper mess of them.” Billy came up on his elbows with a suggestive look. They shared another beat before his tone changed. “I should have stayed.”

“I wish you did. But, I also wish I didn’t run into Fredrick’s arms after that dance. It was stupid. We can both make idiot decisions. Still young, I guess.” Evie turned her eyes. “But, you’re here now and we’re not yelling at each other.”

“It’s a whole new world. Keg King.”

“I need to forget that.”

“School won’t. None of the schools there will forget it. Betcha even Tannen knows.” Billy pushed up and Evie followed, stretching until something cracked delightfully. “Heard from him?”

“Something with a DUI or two… I don’t know. He made his threats already.” She stopped to pet Blue, shifting the kitten off Billy’s coat while he snagged his shirt. “Tell Max I said hi if she’s around.”

“Give me thirty.” Billy took his coat, gave her ass a pat, and waltzed out. Unworried. Evie dragged into the shower. Stood there under the warm spray with her head pressed against the cool tiles. Swallowed some aspirin down and slid her eyes to the container of cherry red pins.

There wasn’t a melancholy welling inside her empty gut, but she found it odd. This craving to indulge. To swallow sharp objects and let them click around musically inside her. Make them part of her routine. Eat artificial things until she was made from them. A doll on the top shelf threatening to take a tumble.

Wet curls hung over her shoulders and breasts. Evie closed the mirror and looked at her body there. Head tilting. Towels fell around her feet. She opened her palms, arms slighting lifting in a submissive motion. Evie thought to cover herself but didn’t. Imagined a shell opening so the world could look at her. Admire her. Pluck her free and decorate her with tiny diamonds and opals. Maybe seaweed and shells like a pretty siren.

The mirror lights washed her flesh out as they would an old starlet. Flash. Romancing Evie as she blew kisses to an empty lens, hoping to be loved beyond it. She might die if they don't all love her. Want to screw her. Want to open her up and peek inside. Flash. Keep her at arm's reach if they don't like what they see. Flash. It doesn't matter because she's still a wondrous thing to covet.

She imagined several hands piecing her parts together. Painting them with deft brushes. Evie could sit on a shelf still. She could also let them loop red strings around her broken limbs. Contorting fingers walking her upon a empty stage with the same washed-out lights. Evie would be anything for them. Give anything for eyes and lights and brushes that caress her.

Hands pushed her curls back over her shoulders. Evie really looked at her body. No shame. No sex. No fear. No disgust. Just flesh and blood and muscle wrapped around bones with marrow made of that electric stardust. Flesh that offended the world, they had to fetishize her to stand her. Nothing really mattered if the lights washed her away though. The lights would tell them to love her regardless because she was the next great thing.

Flash.

Lips pushed into the mirror's reflection, breath ghosting to leave an imprint that faded as she leaned back. Her neon demon flitting out to curl and poison the world so she wouldn't have to choke it down alone.

“I don’t want to be them,” Evie sneered there, “they’ll want to be me.”

They’ll claw. And scrape. And scream. And die. Just to be a second rate version of Evangeline. Steam rose around her, placed adoring kisses upon her skin.

A kiss and a promise wrapped in that vengeful neon demon she fed and hid from the world that had ruined her. Broke her parts to pick and choose the best. A demon she still kissed and tried to preen with kindness because Evangeline tried. She tried.

Evie hadn’t been cruel. She told lies. She made messes. But, she tried and she had always hoped that would count for something. It didn’t with her father. Or Mona. Not even Fredrick, he liked her mutilated. But, Evie tried to hold onto that kind girl with fire and hopes to create music that rained to make flowers grow even bolder. She deserves something. Anything.

She was already carved out by this life. Felt like she might hit bone if she dug any further. Piles and piles of ash spilling out longing veins. Organs delectable enough to feed on from souls that sapped her vitality away. What else was there to do but scream until someone heard her? Scream for the girl she lost. The people who would never care to understand that. Scream until they were forced to scream over her. Until they were all roses falling at her feet.

As she looked at herself here, Evie wondered if that girl was even alive anymore. And if she’d already let her down. If she could be forgiven. If she could forget a specific howl of thunder that came after crackling lightning. Lips near her ear to preen so sweet.

"My little mouse-"

Flash.

Hands shaking, she thrust the mirror open and pricked her finger on a cherry pin. Blood beading before she settled it upon her tongue to devour it.

It didn’t make sense. She was happier. Today, she was better. She was in control. But, this... It was built into her. Settling comfortable with everything else. A need. A hope. A cycle. An addiction. Girlhood was a horror story written by a true romantic. This, she knew well.

Just once, Evie figured. She could wean off it. She could gather her parts and sew them back together without help. Carve the person she lost to the world in something stronger.

It’s fine. This is fine.

Flash.

Unable to see whoever was in the mirror now, Evie shut the lights out and hurried away. She pulled a long sleeve tee on with a faded floral design. Decided leggings were a god-like invention and was stuffing socks on when Billy let himself back in.

At the sound, she clenched her stomach as if he’d walk in and see the artificial fragments that made her up now. A softer breath puffed. Everything was neatly hidden inside. Soon to be a part of her shelf collection. Footsteps came to her while she bent over to toss her wet towels in the hamper.

“Can’t knock-?” Evie was spun around into an oncoming hard kiss. Lips colliding before Billy hitched and pulled out. Fireworks burst.

“Hey, I waited for that.” He winked and went into the kitchen. Owned the space. “You look like hell still, Evie. Couch. I’ll make you something greasy to eat.”

“Ugh, I won’t even fight you on this...and you’re well aware of that.” Evie fell onto the sofa. Sagged. Heard Billy clicking around. “You’re not gonna make a mess, are you?”

“Quit worrying, let the master work.” He peered at the kitten eagerly eating from her dish.

Evie heard something sizzle and flipped TV channels. Turned the brightness and volume a little lower while she draped over the sofa's arm. Tried to distract herself as the meds kicked in. Melting around her pricking pin. Billy padded back in with a paper plate. Something stacked high on it.

“What did you…?” Evie blinked and sat up to make room for him so he put the plate down. Still warm and steamy, gooey cheese oozed from fresh bread. “Grilled cheese. Oh hell, that actually looks really good.”

“I made a bunch. Stuff that hangover.” He spied her and stole the remote. Evie was too busy leaning over to pull a cheesy sandwich apart to fight him. Readily, leaning into Billy’s shoulder, Evie got comfortable there as they shared a silence. A hot, greasy meal that was perfection. Even a few laughs over the TV.

She forgot about pretty made up dolls. About that girl she lost. About whatever was trying to take its place. About screaming and thunder.

“I think we should set some ground rules for this thing since we’re obviously avoiding labels,” Evie said during a commercial, wiping her fingers on a napkin before she pushed up. “Water?”

“With ice if you really wanna impress me.” Billy kicked back and heard her scoff. “What do you mean, rules?”

“I mean,” the sink started running from the kitchen, “just...you wanna be with me and I wanna be with you and we’re not gonna bring a third party into that. Basic ‘don’t screw this up’ rules.”

“Unless you’re into it.” Billy cracked his cheekiest smile as she returned. Ice clicked in two glasses. Billy put one arm up on the couch to gesture so she tucked in there. Cups clicked and they hydrated as if a mission was afoot.

“Ah, use the coaster.” She leaned forward so they could set the drinks down. Billy rolled his eyes and sat back, legs spreading.

“You worry too much, I know how to tell people I’m seeing a girl.”

“How public can we be? If I try to kiss you or, god forbid, hold your hand at school...will you be weird about it now?”

“No, and just give me a slap if I get weird on you again.” He shrugged. “If I wanna slip you my tongue or smack your ass, are you gonna get all squirrely on me?” Billy tipped his head back when he felt her chuckle.

“Depends on who you do it in front of. I figure you’ll use your brains for that judgment. I hope.” Came the softer reply. Evie curled into the warmth of him. Stared at his neck and watched the muscles and veins shift under tanned skin. Wondered about sinking her teeth there. “You can get handsy within reason. Do that thing where one person slips their hand into the other’s pocket as they walk.”

“I’ll give you the John Hughes fantasy if you throw me a little pornstar now and then.”

“Bet you think every nasty thing you say makes me blush.”

Evie wiggled down and settled her head in his lap. Eyes snapped down to see her face crinkle with a brighter smile, still only somewhat fatigued from the night before. Curl spiraling long over her shoulders and his thighs. He caught one around his finger. Twirled it with a thoughtful expression before he looked at her eyes.

“You are beautiful, Evangeline Fenny.” Billy had to sigh it. A fierce and tender proclamation. A stunning spell cast over her like a thin veil. Twinkling jewels. Flash photography.

It became clear that they held power over each other and that this was the closest she’d ever gotten to her name in lights.

And Evie did blush. She didn’t look away from his eyes. For once. Not when they flickered to catch her gaze. Lost in Billy, she rose and turned over on her hands and knees. Leaned toward him carefully. Billy inhaled her perfume, got this fluttered look as she took his chin and tipped it to place a delicate kiss upon his throat. Another touched the line of his jaw.

One muffled sound fused them together. Evie’s back hit the couch. The remote fell with a clatter. Fingers laced, Billy shifted her hand next to her head. Saw her pause to kiss his knuckles. Tough with scars from too many fights that burst them open.

Fingertips gave this gentle caress of Evie’s hairline with his free hand. Careful as if something here could shatter. Thick lashes fluttered so she turned to look up at him there. Words crushed in her throat. Almost pleasurably.

“Open your mouth.” Billy longed to taste the fragmented syllables. Lips parted. A finger swept the kiss-puffed swell of them. “Little wider.” His own mouth curled. Thumb rubbing a circle into her chin before he came down. A vaguely sweet-salty kiss. Tangy, almost reminding him of that balmy California air.

Evie matched him. Pushed back. Cupped his face. Made a heavenly sound that vibrated into him.

And she leaned out as if struck by lightning.

“What’s your middle name?”

“What?” He laughed, watching her lashes flutter. Hand midway to touch her breast.

“Your middle name.” Evie fingered the metal pendant when it hung down from his neck. Traced a line across his collar before tucking spun gold behind his ear.

“Why?”

“So suspicious.” She tugged his tee so he’d kiss her again. Slower this time. “This, Billy, is totally a date. So, I’m asking about you about you.” Frankly, Evie wanted to know every little, silly thing there was to him.

“Feels like that perfect, lengthy ending of a date to me.” The snark had Evie pouting. Stopping anymore kisses he dared to plant. Billy gave pause. “It’s stupid. My middle name.”

“Well, now you have to tell me.” She shifted so he could drape his weight across her, one elbow planted near her head. Billy rolled his eyes. Cringed.

“Seamus.” He mumbled, sparking. “Don’t laugh. Mom chose it after an ancestor on her side.”

“Just smiling cause you told me. That’s not bad!” Evie pressed her lips when they trembled. “William Seamus Hargrove.”

“Yeah, I sound like a creepy lighthouse keeper who's really into masturbating.”

“One out of two.” Evie squealed as he pinched her side for that. “Marie!”

“Huh?”

“My middle name. Marie.” Arms looped loosely around Billy's shoulders. They wrapped each other up, spoke intimately of casual subjects. All too easily.

“Evangeline Marie Fenny.” He gave it a taste. Liked it.

“Uh-huh.” Evie’s fingers twirled idle into Billy's curls, massaging circles into the back of his warm neck. “My mom got the middle name from this famous Voodoo Queen in New Orleans. She thought to name me Christine, Wendy, or Beatrice but when I was born, she changed her mind at the last minute because she saw me and said the name just came to her from this epic poem. Said it was star-worthy so she plucked it down from the night sky and kept it as her own.”

"A star?" He panned to focus on her expression relaxing.

"It's a lot to live up to." Something to grieve deeply in that.

“Hm. Voodoo Queen. So, do you like to turn boys into creatures when they cross you? Frogs, goats, and bats maybe? For sacrifice?”

“I mean, that’s the first thing they teach us, obviously. Voodoo is actually peaceful and balanced, it just has a violent misconception because of racism. It’s an even exchange of life and energy. A relationship you build with actual effort. Signature.”

“My mom might have liked it, she was spiritual-like.”

“My aunts know more. They were pretty worked up when my mom branched out. I like to think she balances a couple religions to get by. She does the same thing with hair styling…and boyfriends.” Evie puffed, eyes elsewhere. “Just a jukebox, she changes the song by whatever is gonna comfort her most that week. I just tell people she’s open-minded and she is.”

“My dad hates your mom more than he’s hated any neighbor we’ve ever had. And we used to live across from these guys he didn’t like me talking to. Said they were living in sin. Well...he used worse words.” Billy admitted, vaguely entertained because Neil loved to spit words only when backs were turned. He was a coward. “They were always nice to me. Owned this fancy cake shop so they sometimes gave me a truffle if I was playing on the apartment steps.”

“I can picture you small. Face all messy with chocolate.” Evie gushed there. “Probably the cutest thing. Bet Neil hated them more for being sweet.”

“The one and only time he spat the word out in the open, one of those guys broke his nose. I got the brunt of that anger later, but it was worth it. Just makes me like Mona more.”

“I’m sure.” Evie blinked, sighing elsewhere under Billy’s gaze. “My mom and I have a disconnect, but I am proud of her. She’s so educated despite having me young even if people don’t know it. She’s marched for human rights and she’s braver than she knows. She always stands for something and I hope I can one day too. Even if her big, noble causes distract from her home life.”

Evie paused with this searching look. Unsure if she should indulge the thought that swept her eyes. Gently, she continued.

“I don’t think her mom ever loved her. Nana was always so cold to her, not like with the older sisters. I noticed that young. She might have liked me only cause I was her one and only grand-baby.”

“Why’s that?”

Evie flickered her brown eyes again, frowning.

“You can’t repeat this, not even to me.” A sigh followed when Billy nodded. “When my mom and dad got divorced...that Christmas break she took me back to N’awlins. They live in this big place, I used to think it was a castle. Her three older sisters, growing old together. Nana was with them until she passed away. I used to hang out in the attic when I wasn’t at their store. Going through boxes of memories.”

“Yeah.” Billy nodded for her to go on.

“My mom wasn’t supposed to be born. Nana had her sisters. She had this husband. Perfect life. A shop to pass down. One night, she was closing and a man attacked her. Held her down and…” Evie swallowed.

“Oh…”

“He hurt my Nana bad. I don’t think she was ever the same, how can you be? But, she got pregnant with his baby. Kept it and that was my mom. I think my mom spent her whole life trying to make up for it. I’m sure she knew.”

“How so?”

“My grandfather left not long after she was born and..my Nana wrote him this letter I don’t think she ever sent. It was begging him to just take Mona and love her right. It was full of apologies and, I think she was gonna kill herself. I don’t know what changed her mind. But, I found that letter and read it. It was in my mom’s things. Under the floorboards of the first dollhouse she ever made herself. She must have found it all the same. Maybe when she was my age.”

“Probably wasn’t an easy thing to find for her.”

“Right. Might explain why mom can only handle the dainty things in life. She just wanted to be loved. So, I think after that...I tried even harder to be perfect for her. I know she loves me and her mother never loved or wanted her. She tried so hard for everyone even if she’s bad with the negative. We’re friends. She always tells me I saved her life so I’m scared of letting her down. What if I can’t save her one day?” Her voice cracked so Evie swallowed a lump down to level herself.

Billy felt that prick his heart. Deeper than he liked. But, the advice still came out clear.

“That’s not your job, Evie, you need a mother. You have plenty of best friends.”

“I thought she married my dad cause she loved him, but really I think she married the first person who promised to care for her. Who whisked her away from her mother’s cold house. It worked out that he was always traveling for work. It feels like everything I thought I knew about my life wasn’t real.” Evie caught herself, eyes on Billy’s pendant. She hoped it protected him. Well enough. “But, my dad. I bet he thinks about me every day. I know it.”

It was always striking and peculiar how Evangeline spoke of her father. Billy pictured a string being pulled from her back to rattle the same peppy sayings. Over and over again until perhaps she believed it too.

Evie paused to stare at Billy thoughtfully. With the pull of her string, she switched modes to become something else.

“What kinds of things to do you like to write about?” She asked with this dreamy sort of expression crossing as if the words before were all imaginary. She was fine. Her mother was fine. Her father, he…

It was all fine. Picture perfect. Paparazzi flashing to send her into a sea of spots. Memories wiping.

“I don’t know, anything to not be here.” Billy caught himself, both of them still wrapped around each other. “Not here, I mean. I’m here.”

Billy seemed to realize how present he was and shifted off her.

“The words almost don’t sound real.” Repetition. A mild chuckle. “I’m here.” He sounded them out carefully. Evie pulled up. Stared at Billy sitting on his knees between her legs.

“That’s it.” She said. “Labels and rules aside. As long as we’re just here, I think we have a handle on this. I can manage that, can you?”

I’m here, Billy gave this closer look and nodded. Earring dangling. Fingers twisted his ring around.

“Are you going to tell Neil or Susan about this?” Evie’s question made him pale noticeably.

“Hell, no. It’s better if my dad doesn’t figure it out. Don’t like him talking to you.”

Evie didn’t argue with that.

“I don’t think I want to tell my mom, she’s just a lot when I’m seeing someone or liking anyone point-blank.” Evie winced.

“Don’t freak on me if I pull from you around my dad. I don’t trust him near you. He’ll say shit and you don’t need that.” Billy peered aside until Evie took his hand, shaking it almost officially.

“Deal. Screw Neil.”

“Oh,” Billy laughed, “you're still a funny girl, Evie.” Eager as can be, he cupped the back of her head. Kissed her into the couch. They forgot the dull aches that kept them so grounded. All giggles, she squirmed out to escape him. Left Billy breathless and tugged as she got up. “Wait, where ya going?”

“Um. My room. Duh.”

He lit up and tried to play cool which melted the second he scrambled to scoop her from the floor.

“Ah!” Evie wiggled and clung to him. Feeling his muscles bulge and strain as they always did. Made her heart sing. “We didn’t discuss this!”

“If I can lift it, it’s mine. You spent all last night challenging me, what do you expect?” Billy jostled her which had Evie wrapping her arms tighter around his shoulders. Barely squealing.

“Okay! Don’t drop me!” She squeezed into his arms and balled up. Billy laughed all the way to the bedroom. “I didn’t wash the sheets yet.”

“Even better, let’s make a bigger mess of them.” Billy dropped her playfully into the covers. Pulled his shirt off as Evie sat up. Eyes falling to the hard contours. He relished that she liked to look at him. Fingers wrapped around her wrist, encouraging the cool palm into his skin. Up the deft lines in his stomach. “You can touch, I won’t charge you for it.”

She dropped the awe and pushed from him. Laughing back into the pillows.

“You’re such a pain.” Evie stiffened because Billy dropped down to crawl up her body. Pretense gone. One hand cupped her jaw. Urged it open as fingers stroked the silky cheek. Thumb curving the swell of her parting mouth. Evie kissed the pad and let the digit slip along her tongue.

“You’re so good.” Billy shuddered when he felt her tongue whirl obediently around his thumb. Breathless. Evie reached down to undo his belt. Sly as can be.

“You’re eager.” She whispered coolly against the wet thumb tracing a line down her chin.

“I haven’t been laid much the past few months, I’m collecting. Times I tried didn’t work. Sue me.”

“Poor thing.” She cooed, working his zipper down until Billy bit his lip. Hips shimmied between her spread legs. He jerked her hips up to get the underwear and leggings off in one expert pull. “Did you think about me when you tried?”

Billy narrowed on her. Sighed as a hand slipped into his jeans. Moaned.

“Yes.” He stole himself a kiss. “Couldn’t even measure up to that kiss in the street.”

“Remind me how that went.” Evie hitched a laugh and he smothered her down. Scared the syllables with his tongue.

Billy pulled her hair for good measure, pushed his open fly into her bare skin. He didn’t waste time this hour as she moaned and pulled for him. Adjusted to find her core. Hips snapped together, both of them mostly clothed in disarray. A good ache built as he moved. Hard and intent like he was making an impression into her flesh. Into her marrow.

Evie would remember him and this time and how he played her. Totally. Neither of them would be running. This moment was about the long haul together. They kept slowing to just look and breathe. Noses nuzzling. Soft exhales in turn. Billy broke kisses to push his face up against her hair and jawline, arms sliding underneath her to cling. He let Evie whisper sweet things into his flesh. Let her hold him just as close.

At the sweetness of her coaxing, he spilled inside her. Earlier then he meant.

“Shit.” Billy started to push up when Evie’s legs caught his hips.

“Stay,” she puffed, “stay like this for a bit.” She prodded and pawed, openly needing him. So very bad.

“I’m crushing you.” He mumbled into her cheek. Trapped in heat.

“I like it.” Evie’s arms looped his shoulders. Both of them got the shakes. “I like how you feel right here.”

“You didn’t come yet.” Hot breath ghosted her neck.

“It’s okay.”

Billy blew air into her jaw. Kissed the line of it before he reached down to finish her.

“Yeah?”

“Ngh, yes.” She mewled out silently. "Oh, Billy." That was his favorite song in truth.

“Atta girl.” Billy kept planting kisses. Evie twisted with nowhere to go. Whimpered until she was locking under him. Mouth back open for his slow tongue. She reached a peak and let him slowly bring her back down.

Lips muffled into her collar. He stayed there inside her. Took every piece of comfort she offered. One hand reeled up to pet her curls. Arms kept him firm against her so he could listen to her twittering heart slow and lull. Fingers danced too delicate across flesh.

Evie whined as he pulled out. Felt the absence burn hot.

They messed the sheets. She was still pulling for him until he pushed her over. Wrapped himself around her after fixing his jeans back up. Leaving them open. Evie shifted, restless until Billy kissed behind her ear.

“Just sleep. Not going anywhere.” Billy’s words lulled her back to relax. “Quit squirming about it.”

She stilled, fingers trailing up the hair on his arm before she dropped her head to the offered bicep. Evie tilted Billy’s wrist to see the watch, groaning.

“It’s not even noon.”

“Maybe you’ll think next time before you get up hungover on a weekday before eight,” Billy mumbled into the curls.

“Only did it for the Hargrove grilled cheese.” Evie closed her eyes to sigh. "You fell for it."

“Guess we’re both screwed.”

“Mm-hm.” She let her mind flutter. Felt Billy’s hand stroking her bare thigh.

Fingers moved up her hip. Kneading the flesh. His palm trailed over her tummy and she didn’t stop him. Didn’t clam up at a boy touching her fuller areas. Billy worshiped her skin. Breath hot into dark curls. She almost wondered if he was trying for another round massaging her hip like that with dancing fingertips.

“Hard to nap when you...when you touch me.” She sounded breathless.

“Like touching you,” Billy mumbled. “Gonna figure out a way to prove it to you without the label. This thing.”

“For a boy who likes to talk, I notice certain words are hard for you.” She felt the arm under her wrapping tighter, pulling her further into his fire. “Not judging. I have problems words too.”

“Still good with my mouth.” Billy shifted hair from Evie’s neck and jaw. Settling his lips there, lazy as can be. “And my hands. But, you still have something nagging you tell you I’m not being truthful about the exclusive thing. Gonna figure out how I can make that up to you.”

“If I really didn’t trust you, Billy, I wouldn’t have let you stay here.” Evie shifted around to face him, still laying on his bicep. There was plenty of fear. Fear of exposing her heart and vessels and nerves to be plucked. Fear she'd like him more than he liked her. Fear this relationship would be such an easy thing to fall into.

"That's honest." He decided, lashes batting. Evie reached up and traced this curving line near his mouth.

“Just be with me cause you want to be and try not to raise your voice if you’re upset." She dropped her hand. "It’s okay if you’re upset, you can tell me. It just freaks out when men raise their voices. It’s like thunder and I...I’m scared of thunder.”

Evie recalled the passive-aggressive way Fredrick would slam things when he was upset with her instead of outright telling her. How he’d wait until she was near tears and begging his forgiveness. Billy studied her eyes. Saw lightning flash within them. Knuckles came to her cheek. Gave an idle caress. His soft lips found her brow and lulled her heavy eyes until they began to flutter. Billy laid there and watched Evie fade, let her sleepy frame tuck into him. Under his chin. She found solace.

He thought of the men in her life and his life who raised their voices. Who hit. Who broke them down to a series of parts they can pick and choose from to make a doll that suited them best. This image they placed up carefully for protection, it may have shattered them both distantly. Billy didn’t want to be a piece of thunder in Evie’s life. Striking to make his points so she wouldn’t forget them.

But, Evie slept so soundly in his arms. Barely twitching while his hands roamed her body. Under the shirt down her bare back. Threading into fluffy locks of thick hair. These little caresses that were her lullaby. It made Billy believe with all his soul that he’d never be like them.

And it made it so easy for him to follow her in darkness.

** ** **

“You’re awfully quiet, Max.” Evie turned her head in the seat. Trees whizzed by illuminated with little flits of the morning sun.

“Just a test today, I guess.” Max had her backpack clutched close in her lap. Almost hiding behind it. She hinted a smile. “I gave Billy shit this morning.” Billy snorted in the driver’s seat, nodding. One hand idle on Evie’s knee. Hot through the denim.

“She did. Neil wasn’t around.”

“Hey...I told Will and them I’d go to the arcade. Just to hang out after school. I’ll be home before dinner.”

“Does Neil know?” Was all Billy asked.

“Yes, he thinks I’m just going to see El. Stays quieter if I’m seeing the Police Chief.” Max plucked up her skateboard. “I won’t need a ride so you guys can make-out.” She snickered while Billy swerved to park at school.

“Yeah? Beat it.” He shifted his seat, patting Evie’s knee to make her wait there. Max jumped out and hopped on her board.

“She does seem off,” Evie remarked more so to herself.

“Things at home are off, it’s making it weird for her and her friends.” Billy shut the door with a hard look. Exhaling out his nose. “It was bound to.” Evie watched Max skate down the hill around other students. Seemingly isolated. She didn’t push the subject and wiped the frown aside. Mauve lips upturned when she peered to see Billy staring at her face. Not reaching for a smoke yet.

“Got something for you.” He said instead, fishing into the front pocket of his denim jacket. “Tried to figure out how to make this official for you. Here.”

Billy dropped a silver chain in her hand without ceremony. The silver ring he wore on his middle finger hung from it. Evie wondered what he’d fidget around with now when he was deep in thought.

“I don’t have a class ring or Letterman jacket for you because I’m not a douche. But, guys do this. Don’t they?” Billy peered at Evie eyeing the ring before she met his gaze.

“It’s perfect.” She turned, gesturing so he could help her put it on. It sat lower than the little music note she usually wore. Evie debated it and pulled her dad’s necklace off, looping it around her wrist as a bracelet because she wasn’t ready to part with it just yet. Maybe it not being in plain sight would make her easier to look at for Mona. “Thank you.”

“My mom got it for me. She had it in the family and said it would fit me one day. That and this chain.” He fingered the saint pendant.

“I’ll be careful with it,” Evie promised him.

“It sits exactly where I wanted it to.” Billy flashed some pride.

“Over my heart?” Her eyes glimmered.

“Over your tits.” He laughed when she shoved at him, tugging his collar in for a kiss.

“You’re gross,” Evie mumbled, pecking him once more. She fingered the ring and beamed.

“You’re into it.” Billy turned her chin for just one more. She could live in this.

Just one more kiss.

Deciding to join the rest of the student body, they got out. Evie slung her strap over one shoulder while Billy held his bag in a wad at his side. They met each other around the car before Billy slipped his arm around her waist, bringing Evie into him. Fingers delved into her back pocket.

Every teen around them took note. It was official. Comments piled in as they passed into school.

“Great party, Evie.”

“Looking good, you two!”

“Love your outfit, Fenny.”

Whistles cast and overlapped suggestively.

“This is weird.” Evie leaned into Billy as they got to her locker. Students looked at them together. Offered winks or smiles. Students who never addressed her much before.

“You’re the keg king. What’s that saying?” Billy had shrugged. “Heavy is the head… Fine is the ass.”

“I regret you already.” Evie broke to laugh at him. “Pure poetry, Billy.” She shut her locker, paused to see Heather headed her way looking apprehensive. Another smile crossed, even fuller than the last. Heather seemed to respond and follow it.

“So, I heard I missed a piece of history.”

“Hardly, I puked everywhere.” Evie swept curls behind her shoulder. “Billy, can Heather and I have a sec?”

“Depends, am I still an asshole prick?” He leered over Evie’s shoulder.

“You’re back down to normal prick status.” Heather beamed even sweeter while Billy caught his tongue between his teeth, seeming to like that.

“I can work with that, princess.” He tugged Evie’s curls and went around them to head to his locker before the first period. Evie shifted on her feet so they walked along together.

“I know...things have still been kinda weird.”

“I just figured I’d let you and Carol work through your stuff, you know?” Heather looped her arm into Evie’s.

“Can’t without my best friend there. Sure, Carol and I are bonding, but that doesn’t… You and I went to dances together, Heather, we stayed up eating junk food and watching terrible movies. We bought our first bras together.”

“Our mothers made that day so mortifying, I think I’m still messed up from it.” Heather giggled with Evie snorting next to her. “And you got a real B bra while I basically bought a damn bandage.”

“We’re repressing the memory together.” Evie tugged her down the next hallway where Steve scrambled to snatch her into an unexpected bear hug.

“Tell me it’s true, oh my god, Evie.” He was near howling with laughter. Evie, shocked that Steve lifted her feet from the floor, stammered through the broken train of thought.

“What?” She got spun around with a cry as Heather cackled. Students hurried around them. Steve wasn't strong like Billy, but credit was due.

“You’re the keg king?” He shook her by the shoulders. “You smashed Billy’s record in front of him. In front of everyone?”

“I’m never drinking again.” Evie dropped her head to his chest, hands covering her face.

"You're my absolute hero, Eves, I hope you know that." Steve gripped Evie tighter, got close like he thought to kiss her but resisted.

“Yeah, you’re going to have to fill us in on everything at lunch.” Heather decided, grasping Evie’s hand. “Jesus, Steve, get it together.”

“Let me have this, Holloway. She's mine.” He squeezed Evie’s amused frame back into him. “He made my life hellish.”

“I’ll dedicate the win to you. How’s that?” Evie slipped from Steve, laughing now. “Lunch. We’ll give Billy shit about it together.” A wink that Steve matched, thoroughly enjoying this momentous day. Evie rejoined Heather to hurry toward class. “How about a sleepover? Us, Carol, and Max. I think she needs more girls in her life. No boys invited.”

Heather hugged her books close to grin easier.

“I’d like that.”

~~~~~

A/N: Letting these two finally just be intimate is everything to me. Thank you so so much for reading. Comments and rbs are well loved and appreciated!! Feel free to chat with me, pretty please! Tag list & ask open. xoxo :)

TAGGED:: @80sbxtch @nottherightseason @alagalaska @alongcamedolly @kellyk-chan @10blurredsmoke10 @charmed-asylum @unmistakablyunknown @lukespatterson

#Billy Hargrove #billy hargrove x oc #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove x plus size oc #billy hargrove smut #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #billy x angel #writing #mine #somy #angel fenny

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the-kiwi-is-not-a-pewee · 4 years ago

Text

Emmy.

This is a callout post about discord user emmy, known for now as @eurydices-flower on tumblr, and her nasty behavior regarding her joining and then leaving a specific Riordanverse fan discord server. I don’t usually make callout posts but this needs to be addressed since she has vagueposted about my friends and been rude to them over DMs. I don’t believe she should be allowed to run around and make accusations, especially with people not able to find part of the story due to it being over private messages. So, with the permission of the friend whom she sent DMs to, I will outline her brief stay in the server and the aftermath.

It’s time you heard our side of the story.

Emmy (which is how I will be referring to her for the duration of this post), joined the Trials of Apollo (ToA) server on July 6th, 2020.

For the sake of chronicling how we know that she is also @eurydices-flower on tumblr, she says as much in her self-introduction in the #introduction channel of the server.

Emmy was in the server for less than 24 hours, before leaving voluntarily with seemingly no explanation. Naturally, we were confused and one of our own reached out to emmy on her tumblr blog to ask why she left. I blacked out the profile picture and url of my friend’s blog for the sake of their own privacy.

Let us go over this, piece by piece.

“yeah i’m alright i just realized constant negativity wasn’t rlly my game at the moment and i don’t necessarily have the headspace to ever deal with that.”

That is fair, she is encouraged to look after herself and her own mental state first. If she felt like leaving was the best course of action to take for the sake of herself, then she should not be judged for that. And it’d be perfectly fine if she left it at that! But, of course, I wouldn’t be making this post if she did.

“everyone’s entitled to be everyones own opinion but to bash other people you don’t even know for having opinions was too much for me to handle. a lot of those blogs are good friends of mine and it truly is disrespectful to harp on anyone for having different opinions but go around and spread negativity when others don’t agree with with that opinion.”

Regarding the first part, “everyone’s entitled to be everyones own opinion but to bash other people you don’t even know for having opinions was too much for me to handle”, there’s nothing wrong with this statement as it is on the surface-level. She is expressing that she personally does not want to partake in that particular kind of discourse. That is fine, she is not obligated to in any way, shape, or form. Though I do have a comment or three about the statement before we move on.

She could have muted the specific channel where that kind of discourse was taking place, which as far as I’m aware she never did. The ToA server has 2 specific channels for pjo discourse because members were uncomfortable with it being spread sporadically throughout the server, thus those two channels were made to contain discourse. If she was truly made uncomfortable by what she stated, she could have rectified that problem herself instead of leaving. But, after all, it was her choice to make in the end.

“but to bash other people you don’t even know for having opinions was too much for me to handle”Uh, welcome to tumblr Emmy? I don’t know if Emmy meticulously vets her tumblr experience so that she literally never encounters people bashing other people they don’t even know for their opinions, but it makes it a rather ironic statement considering tumblr’s reputation and that she has a tumblr blog. Heck, it’s not even unique to tumblr, it’s more of a social media thing. I can only postulate that maybe it made her more uncomfortable in a more confined and private space like a discord server, but I cannot be sure. Given she joined at the height of the Ace! Reyna discourse and the “opinions” she’s referring to are likely the aphobic rhetoric spouted by people who were astonishingly upset that Reyna was not a lesbian, I personally am rather uncomfortable that she dumbed it down as if it were merely “having an opinion” and not an attempt to invalidate ace representation in a mainstream media book series just because they were upset that they hadn’t gotten exactly what they wanted.

She retrospectively made herself a hypocrite. I’ll put a pin in this for now and we’ll come back to it.

“A lot of those blogs are good friends of mine and it truly is disrespectful to harp on anyone for having different opinions but go around and spread negativity when others don’t agree with that opinion.”

There’s quite a bit to unpack here just in this one sentence. First of all, no one in the server knew she was acquainted with any of the blogs we were discoursing about. She never stated such at any point prior to this point. We didn’t know, and thus we could not even consider accommodating her before she left in this regard.

I’ve already expressed my own views on her dumbing down people spouting aphobic rhetoric to them merely having “different opinions”, but the server was not “spreading negativity” unless you define “negativity” as calling out people for their aphobic rhetoric and frankly disrespectful treatment of Reyna as a character as a whole. It’s not as beautiful and simple as “others don’t agree with that opinion” when said opinion promotes aphobia and tries to claim that lesbian Reyna somehow cannot peacefully coexist with asexual Reyna.

“I mean no disrespect to anyone in that server when saying that or this but i just truly hope you all emotionally grow as people one day and learn to be more respectful <3 <3”

This… whole line has the basic energy of “No offense but *proceeds to say something offensive*”. Emmy basically went, “I mean no disrespect but *proceeds to say something disrespectful*”. It’s especially rude that she told us that she hopes we “all emotionally grow as people one day and learn to be more respectful <3 <3” when she was the one that came into the server in the first place. Furthermore none of us owe our respect to the people that got so mad over a fictional character not being exactly what they wanted that they have to belittle and attempt to downplay ace representation. It’s not Emmy’s place to tell us to “emotionally grow” and “learn to be more respectful”, especially when in the aftermath she doesn’t put her money where her mouth is.

“Blacked out user: Ah I see. If I may ask, what differing opinion were you being bashed for?

Emmy: not me personally but to see the rr crit circus chat (Note: one of the discourse channels) filled with other people doing it to people not even IN the chat was what bugged me”

Has emmy never been in a discord server with a discourse channel? This is a legitimate question, because this is not behavior unique to the ToA server. All of the servers I’ve seen with channels specifically for discourse have done this. This isn’t some kind of uniquely shitty thing that the ToA server does that we should be morally ashamed of, especially when something similar goes on with people on tumblr posting screenshots of tweets.

“but also when i entered and said i didn’t have opinions on litpollo or medea and i was immediately kinda made fun of for it didn’t make me feel good, as well as saying i was ace and ppl going “oMG the LESBOPhObIa. again i hope y’all just grow emotionally and mentally <3”

Here’s what happened (different colored bars mean different users):

Now, despite the fact that the “r u human” in response to Emmy saying she doesn’t ship litpollo and the “i bet u r not ace u r just LESBWEEN CODED” are jokes, I do understand why those statements made Emmy uncomfortable. Emmy was a newcomer and not acclimated to the sense of humor of the server and to basically shove her the butt end of it was not fair to her. The latter joke especially would be difficult to swallow if Emmy didn’t know that an inside joke of the server at the time was mocking the people who insisted that making Reyna ace was a lesophobic act on Rick’s part despite Trials of Apollo as a series having three lesbian major characters (Emmie, Jo, and Lavinia).

In simple terms, I agree with my friend’s reply and the apology they gave on the server’s behalf. Emmy did deserve that apology. Doesn’t make the “i hope y’all just grow emotionally and mentally <3” any less rude or unwarranted though.

As far as any of us were aware, this was the end of it. Emmy was a bit rude but we had our closure and as far as any of us knew the ToA server and Emmy had parted ways. And then this happened.

This post has since been deleted by Emmy herself, but before it disappeared it was archived by myself and other friends reblogging to respond to it.

It doesn’t name myself or any of my friends directly, but since we were quite vocal about calling people out for their aphobia when Reyna was revealed to be ace, it is assumed we were the target of the post or are at least part of the group that is the target for the post. If it is indeed the former it seems Emmy is vagueposting about us. Even if it’s not specifically about us, it’s not a good look for Emmy. Let’s parse this apart.

“funny how the people yelling aphobia when it came to Reyna were dead silent today when Rick went on twitter and was blatantly racist and disrespectful”

There’s several reasons why people weren’t addressing Rick’s tweets that day. Some of us don’t use twitter/don’t follow Rick on twitter. Some of us don’t check the #rickriordan tag or other tags like it. Some of us have other main fandoms that are not pjo. Some of us don’t follow blogs that reblogged the tweets and the responses to the tweets, or hadn’t reblogged them yet. Some of us might want to first watch the responses to the tweets because we are not Cherokee, Muslim, or educated enough about those topics beforehand and not dig ourselves into a hole. Just saying, just because we didn’t give an immediate response doesn’t mean we didn’t care.

“funny how they only care about representation when it applies to them and them alone”

Does Emmy know that plenty of non-ace people were defending ace Reyna? If she wants an example, I’m a bisexual woman and I’ve been vocal in my defense of ace Reyna. So her logic that “they only cared when the rep applied to them and them alone” falls apart.

“funny how they only cared Reyna was ace because it gave them the opportunity to harrass the lesbians who were hurting”

I don’t condone harassment but calling them out for their aphobic behavior was not harassment. They couldn’t express their hurt without belittling asexual representation and lacking so much self-awareness that they couldn’t realize how aphobic they were being. I’m sorry that they don’t have my respect for that- actually, you know what, I’m not sorry for it. They literally chained themselves to the concept of Lesbian Reyna and would not accept anything else, that’s their own fault. Just because you’re hurt doesn’t give you the excuse to be an asshole to other LGBTQ+ people that did get representation.

"it’s almost,,, almost like you don’t actually care about these characters or color! that you just want the opportunity to clown and be bullies and abusive”

This is a very rich statement considering those “hurting lesbians” she referred to didn’t care about Reyna as a character. They only cared about Lesbian Reyna and nothing else. Some of them mixed up ace and aro showing stunning ignorance on the difference between asexuality and aromance. And now they’re playing victim because they got called out.

“if you want marginalized groups like asexuals to be represented, where’s your energy for pipers representation and characterization? samirah? where’d it go?”

Heroes of Olympus has been out for years. There have already been posts on tumblr before detailing the flaws in how Rick wrote Samirah and Piper, it’s not a new phenomenon. It just had a resurgence recently. Heroes of Olympus is old news so it’s not as fresh and hot as it was when it first came out so of course while discussions over the representation in it are still going on it has mostly calmed down until recently.

“i see you. i’m watching you. you said nothing. not a single word. not even a messy reblog of one (1) post about piper or sam. dead. Silence.”

Emmy gets a little creepy here and slightly stalkery. She doesn’t like us yet she’s watching our blogs? I guess the Blog Police is here. If you don’t reblog discourse posts about how Samirah and Piper were represented you’ll be arrested and pegged as a racist.

No one is obligated to reblog posts about Samirah and Piper. It’s not reflective of their feelings towards Piper and Sam. it’s THEIR blog and they are not obligated to reblog what others want them to. I hate to break it to Emmy but she can’t force people to reblog the stuff she wants to see.

“i don’t care if you think you ‘shouldn’t have a voice in this’ bc ur white or smth. there’s a difference between spreading posts about this terrible situation and trying to butt in with ‘i’m white but here’s my opinion’“

And here we finally circle back to the retroactive hypocrite point I put a pin in earlier. Here’s a refresher: “everyone’s entitled to be everyones own opinion but to bash other people you don’t even know for having opinions was too much for me to handle. a lot of those blogs are good friends of mine and it truly is disrespectful to harp on anyone for having different opinions but go around and spread negativity when others don’t agree with with that opinion.”

And yet she bashes people she doesn’t know and spreads negativity for… possibly having a different opinion than the ones going around right now or not interacting with it for their own personal reasons. Also not everyone who didn’t immediately jump on the Samirah/Piper rep analysis reblogs were white. Assuming people are white will eventually bite you on the ass.

After that post, she continued vagueposting on her own blog.

I seriously doubt she was sent an anonymous death threat because a friend of mine checked her account earlier that same morning she made that post and the Anon feature was turned off. Then, in the evening, she posted about having an Anonymous death threat sent to her without any proof. I’m not saying it’s not possible nor do I condone death threats, but I do have reason to disbelieve her.

IF she is still referring to her brief stay in the ToA server as that “scenario”, then she neglects to say that she did not tell anyone that she was uncomfortable until after she left. We are not mindreaders, we cannot tell when every single person we talk to is uncomfortable. So it can at least partially be held against you, Emmy, for a failure to communicate with us.

And finally, the straw that broke the camel’s back for me.

This DM was sent to a friend of mine, the same friend that reached out to Emmy following her departure from the ToA server. I can only assume that the post she is referring to is the one I covered earlier, prior to the “anon death threat” post. Let’s parse through this again.

“hi love! i noticed you unfollowed me around the time i made my post calling you and other’s silence on piper and samirahs blatant mistreatment today.”

Wow, you know what, scratch what I said earlier about assuming that the post was directed at me and my friends, Emmy basically confirmed it from her own mouth. Nice to get the ambiguity out of the way right off the bat. Also she’s seriously DMing my friend just because they unfollowed her? And assuming it was because of the post? She can’t definitively connect the two dots but if that was indeed the reason my friend unfollowed her I certainly can’t blame them. Especially given that this was Emmy’s response.

“i hope you realize you’re blatantly racist and just all around a terrible person for harping on the wlw community for being upset about their bad representationk because you had ace representation but don’t use the same energy for the people hurting that they don’t have native or muslim representation.”

It’s spelled “representation”, Emmy. Also the pjo wlw community was upset that REYNA was NOT a LESBIAN, not that they had bad representation. That was their whole salt. As a wlw myself, being upset about bad representation doesn’t give you an excuse to put down ace representation which a lot of them were doing. They have THREE lesbian characters in Rick’s books so far.

Also I thought the issue Emmy took with us was that we weren’t reblogging posts breaking down Rick’s tweets or pointing out the flaws in Samirah and Piper’s portrayal in the books. And now she’s talking about posting about people hurting because they don’t have Native American or Muslim representation? Which is it Emmy, you are sending mixed signals.

“i hope you educate yourself and realize you and the entire community that kept their silence are truly acting terrible right now. thank you.”

This is… extremely rich coming from the asexual who implied she has aphobic friends. I hope she educates her friends and realizes her and the entire community who bashed the choice to make Reyna asexual are truly acting terrible right now. Though given how she put the wlw on a pedestal and turned a blind eye to how aphobic they were acting I don’t have hope. The hypocrisy when she says that my friend is “truly acting terrible right now” when my friend dared to just unfollow her.

And that is how I will close this. She is still posting about the server on her own blog but that is everything major that has happened so far. On behalf of my friend, don’t harass emmy or send her death threats. I may not respect her, but I certainly don’t condone harassment or death threats.

She is only 15, according to her own blog, but it does not excuse her behavior towards my friends. Being a minor doesn’t exclude you from being a shitty person.

#pjo #percy jackson #rick riordan #rickriordan #discourse #emmy discourse #callout

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