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bunnliix · 2 months ago

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A Christmas Miracle - Secret Santa 2024

For the wonderful @vent-stink, Hihi I'm your secret santa and I hope you enjoy it! This is also my first Jongho fic! And also my last fic of 2024

Pairing: Jongho x reader Summary: You always put duty ahead of anything else in your life, including love. You've been engaged to Prince Jongho since you were young, and despite not being able to marry for love as you wished, it was your duty and for the betterment of the Kingdom. Besides, it wasn't like you loved Prince Jongho, it was just your duty. Or was it? wc:2.3k AU: Royalty/Arranged Marriage AU Genre: Fluff/Angst Warnings: angst, but not a lot a lot, FLUFF, arranged marriage, kinda rejection, confessions, tension, realizing feelings, Jongho is sad for a bit, but it's a happy ending! Credits: My wonderful partner @potatomountain made the banner for me <3 It's so pretty! Thank you @kpop---scenarios and @rems-writing for beta'ing this fic!

You’ve known since you were a child that you would one day marry for the betterment of your kingdom, it was what was expected of you, so you didn’t really think that you’d have the chance to fall in love with whoever your parents chose. And you still believed that, even after Prince Choi Jongho from Wonderland Kingdom was chosen to be your future husband. He was every girl’s dream, handsome, kind, and a perfect gentleman, and yet you found yourself unable to see him as anything but the boy you had grown up meeting anytime your parents had official meetings. He was always aloof, keeping to himself, and yet now that you were less than a year away from your marriage, it was like he’s done a complete change.

“Princess, please wait!”

Case in point, he always tried to be around you. Not that you minded, he was actually great company and you both had very riveting conversations about policies and political matters. You turned around to face him, seeing him jogging up to you, his hair and outfit in slight disarray and you almost gasped as somehow for a moment he looked irresistible, but you shook yourself, getting your act together as the taller man approached.

“Yes, Prince Jongho, what is it that you need from me?” You asked him, waiting for his reply as the man caught his breath.

“I was wondering if you’d like to take a stroll in the gardens? The weather is wonderful today,” he said, raising an arm to gesture to the windows that showed that it was indeed a wonderful day outside.

“I won’t say no, but you must let me ask you about your opinions on the Kim heir’s most recent blunder during his latest public appearance.” You replied, letting him take your arm as he led you to the gardens.

As you walked, he told you all of his opinions on Prince Hongjoong’s latest incident, you listening with rapt attention. It was not long before you reached the entrance to the gardens, and the prince continued to guide you through the gardens, pointing out any new blooms or varieties that your staff had planted this year. You had also suggested many of the plants that were blooming currently, having an interest in gardening and plants, since your kingdom was largely dominated by green space. Now that it was the end of September and the beginning of fall, most of the plants were starting to lose their vibrancy, but there were still quite a few that stood tall amongst them.

“I remember when we were children, you always snuck out here when our parents or other rulers or nobility were meeting. I remember following you most of the time, if I wasn’t caught,” Jongho said, his hand still on your elbow as he let you guide them around.

“I didn’t always care about appearances or anything having to do with duty when I was younger. I think you felt the same way, though you hid it well most of the time.” You replied, looking out towards the edges of the garden.

“I did, but now I see it differently.” He said in reply, though unbeknownst to you, he said this while looking directly at you.

“I do as well. I will do what I must for my kingdom and my people, even if I must sacrifice my own wants and needs in order to do so.” You said, half-parroting what had been told to you many times by your parents and your governesses.

Jongho sighed, causing you to stop. “You don’t need to sacrifice everything for your kingdom or people, Princess.” He said to you, before you turned to look at him.

“I’ve already sacrificed a chance at being with someone I love. But it’s my duty as Princess to make choices and sacrifices for the betterment of my people.”

“Do you truly not think you could love me, Princess?” Jongho asked you, a look in his eyes that you couldn’t quite decipher.

You looked away, telling him, “I’ve never thought of you in that way, Prince Jongho.”

He went quiet for a moment, before speaking, “I see.”

He said nothing further, instead choosing to continue walking around the gardens with you, the conversation between you never returning. Once you finished roaming the gardens, he walked you to your wing of the castle, before bowing and leaving quickly. You had never seen the normally chatty prince become so quiet, and it left you feeling uneasy. Could he truly have feelings for you? He had never really acted in a romantic manner towards you, just one that you could expect from any gentleman, prince or otherwise.

You entered your rooms, moving to sit down on the couch and waving away your ladies maids. You really couldn’t stop thinking about Prince Jongho’s reactions after you told him you had never thought of him in a romantic light. You truly couldn't recall thinking about having a crush on him or wanting to kiss the prince. Sure, he was handsome, but objectively he was a handsome man. One did not have to have a crush on him to see that. He was the dream girl of many regular girls, even some of your maids have crushed on him from time to time. You never found yourself in that situation. To be honest, you’ve never had a crush before. You never really had the time to, nor were you around many men or women to figure out if you had crushes. Every normal teenage thing you could have had, you simply didn’t because of the pressures of being royalty.

You didn’t notice how much time had gone by, lost in your own thoughts, until your mother came to bring you to dinner, having been requested by your ladies maids since they were unable to get your attention themselves.

“My darling, what has you thinking so much?” Your mother asked as you both walked to the dining hall.

“It’s nothing, mother,” you replied, not feeling confident enough to share your thoughts.

“I’m always here if you need me, darling. You know that you can come talk to me about anything, big or small.”

You smiled, “I know, mother.”

It was only a few minutes later that you both arrived at the dining hall. Your younger brother Jeongin was already there along with your father and Jongho. You watched as the prince walked over to you, leading you to your seat and pulling out your chair for you. You quietly thanked him as he pushed your seat back in, before taking his seat next to you. Your mother and brother were on the other side of the table, while your father sat at the head.

Your parents sensed some tension between Jongho and yourself, you could see it in their eyes as their gazes kept shifting between the two of you. This silence and awkwardness continued for most of the dinner, until just before you all finished your dessert.

“May I escort you back to your room, princess?” Jongho asked you as the dishes were being removed from the table.

You remained silent for a moment, staring at him, before a sound from your mother prompted you to answer, “Yes, of course, Prince Jongho.”

Your parents quickly excused you both, and Jongho offered his arm to you, and once you accepted, he led you from the dining hall and to your rooms. It was once again a silent affair, neither of you feeling brave enough to speak.

He stops in front of your door, mirroring his actions from earlier. You waited for him to say something, but it was a few moments before he opened his mouth.

“I’m sorry for my earlier words, princess,” Jongho said, “I should not have said them and forced you to answer.”

“Jongho-” You started, before he cut you off.

“Goodnight, princess. I hope you sleep well,” he said, before stepping back and walking away, leaving you alone in the hallway once again.

It was now only a few days before Christmas, 3 days to be exact, and in the months since Jongho had left you at the door to your room, you had only seen him a handful of times. The majority of his absence was due to him being needed back in his own kingdom due to his position as heir to the throne, as well as other official duties that kept him away from your home.

Since the day he had left in mid-October, you had barely heard from the royal, assuming that he was just kept too busy by his duties. But you had not stopped thinking about him. You realized more and more, as time passed by, what his little actions and the looks he gave you meant.

He always remained close to you, ensuring your own safety over his own. You remember the many gazes from him, now seeing that they held so much love and care for you in them. And as the days went by, you realized that you missed his presence, his voice, and most importantly, the feeling of him by your side. You realized that you loved Choi Jongho, and that you had for a while, but pushed them aside in favor of your duties as an heir and mistook them for platonic feelings for the Prince.

The worst of it all, he wouldn’t be back until Christmas Eve, so you had another few days of holding in your feelings, until you even had a chance to confess to him. So you just had to be patient and wait. But until then, you kept yourself busy, all the while asking your ladies maids to tell you if they heard any news about your future husband.

It was late Christmas Eve before Prince Jongho arrived at the castle. You watched from your balcony as he returned, unable to take your eyes off of him. You turned back to find the present you had placed on your bed, having been holding it before you heard his arrival. Since you had figured out what you felt for the royal, you had quickly moved to obtain a present that showed your care for the man. You had found a merchant that sold books, and found one that you know the prince had mentioned months before, as one that he had been trying to find. You immediately bought it, not caring exactly how much you spent on it, and had it packaged.

It was now sitting in a box with a letter on top about how you remembered he was searching for this particular book and you thought of him when you saw it. You planned to give this to him before your confession. Which was quickly arriving, as you took a breath before leaving your rooms to search out the handsome prince.

It felt like forever before you reached his rooms on the opposite side of the castle, and as you stood before his door, your hands shook with nervousness. Before you could even knock, the door swung open, revealing Jongho in much more casual clothing than you had seen before.

He looked somewhat shocked, before asking, “What are you doing here so late at night?”

You showed him the present in your hands, “I have a gift for you.”

You say his eyes widen slightly before he welcomes you in, letting you follow him into his room. You didn’t say anything until he sat down on the couch that was in his room. He motioned for you to sit as well. But you didn’t until you handed him the box in your hands, and then nervously sat down to watch him open your gift.

With bated breath you watched him lift the top of the box, his expression morphing into shock and then happiness as he stared into the container.

You watched as he gazed up at you, before he spoke, “You found this? And bought it for me?”

“I saw it and remembered that you wanted it, so I got it for you. Your happiness means much more than the cost of a book.” You replied, looking back at him.

He placed the box down, before coming to kneel in front of you. Jongho looked up at you with tears in his eyes, “You care about my happiness?”

Your heart broke at his words, and you reached to hold his hands. “Choi Jongho, I care about your happiness very much. And I’m sorry it took me until now to realize my feelings, but I love you. I realized that while you were away. I missed having you at my side, your presence around me while we stroll through the garden and the grounds. Will you accept my love, even after I rejected you?”

You didn’t quite get a verbal answer, the normally gentlemanly prince suddenly standing up, pulling you up with him before dragging you into a tight hug. You froze, before melting into his hold, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Of course I’ll accept it, I thought you’d never feel that way towards me. I’ve loved you for years, and I thought you never realized it. You were always so focused on your duty as heir to your throne, and that’s not to say that I dislike your focus, it’s a very admirable quality, but I was hoping one day you’d realize. And now you have, it feels like a Christmas miracle.” He rambled, still in shock and you giggled at his rambles.

You kissed his cheek, feeling your face heat up as you did so, before saying, “I’m sorry it took so long, my prince. But I know now that I love you, and yes, you could say that this is a Christmas miracle.”

Jongho looked over at the clock on the wall, realizing quickly that the clock had already passed midnight, meaning it was Christmas now. He pointed at the clock, directing you to look over.

He looked down at you, smiling softly, before whispering, “You really are my Christmas miracle.”

#pirateeznet #mirohsaurorasociety #ateez x reader #jongho x reader #choi jongho x reader #ateez imagines #ateez fluff #jongho fluff

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mapicccc · 2 months ago

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I feel like all the Derapicc stuff must be coming from Derap viewers taking his perspective on Mapicc at it’s word without really knowing much about Mapicc or actually experiencing a pov of someone he was violently obsessed with bc Derap is always framing Mapicc as being obsessed with him when he’s talking about him. Like honestly the whole idea of them as like a onesided triangle is beat for beat Derap’s perspective on them with his insecurity about Zam’s care for Mapicc and the way he insists Mapicc is doing everything Because he couldn’t kill Derap ages ago when neither Zam nor Mapicc have actually acted like that’s the case. Plus if you’re not really engaged with what Mapicc gets up to, that combined with fan interest in Mapicc doing horror movie shit to Derap might lead people to thinking Mape did more than he actually did when like. Mapicc did not give a fuck. He didn’t even try to kill Derap over and over he did it Once to vent his anger without having to hit Zam. The only area in which Mapicc’s hatred of Derap is special is the sheer lack of emotional investment in him which is like. Very funny. Mapicc explicitly does not want to share space with this dude and can’t even be assed to torment him if Zam isn’t involved somehow. He didn’t even wait for him before dropping the wardens. Mapicc was more invested in hating Jumper and Subz than he is in Derap, I’m glad people are having fun but Mapicc thinking of Derap as anything more than a temporary stress ball to redirect his anger about Zam leaving him onto and an annoyance he wants gone is an invention by Derapchu and the closest thing to affection he’s felt for him is the self-satisfaction at Zam catching Derap sneaking around and vindication that Zam’s perfect teammate that he replaced Mapicc with was trying to spy on them in secret, which he immediately makes about him and Zam again by bringing up his own ex teammate going behind his back. Anyways #hater.

ahhh this makes things make a lot more sense. alas, I have mapicc disease and am physically unable to not see things from his perspective at all times so it just. does not make sense. can't believe people don't get the mape.. he's literally mape....

#rambles #ask

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suguru-getos · 8 months ago

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patience | gojo satoru x f!reader | part 1 |

a/n: here i go with another chapterwise fic :3 but this is mostly self-indulgent because i just need to vent it out ya'll. summary: you've just resigned from your job, life seems hectic and you're on the verge of drowning from all the mental stress. a certain stranger you meet after office at an ice-cream shop, has distracted you from wallowing in your own mess however.

a parted sigh escaped your lips, after thinking long and hard. you decide this was worth it. yes, this must be. this has to be… you have no other choice. would you rather let the stress claw you up inside out? eat you and make you hollow? speaking of hollow, frankly, you don't remember when was the last time you had felt fulfilled. or had felt an ounce of happiness coursing through your veins. there is nothing remotely similar to that in your cut-throat world. someone would say, y/n that's just being a tad too dramatic, you earn a lot of money. you have such a lavish lifestyle, you can afford what you want… then why does your chest tighten every time you wake up? why do you have to remind yourself to breathe… why is that your showers have been extravagantly longer? why is that you end up in your head for days.

you swallow a lump in your throat while you think about all this, the red bottomed heels that you wear are aching, they feel like you'd pass out from the restriction of being so prim and proper all the time. you want to wear soft, fluffy slides, you want to perish, you want to live.

you had been disassociating in your desk for what feels like ages, before sending your manager that pre-prepared email.

hi manager_name,

"as of today (date) I am formally resigning. let me know how I can help with the smooth handover process"

regards,

yes, this helps, this really does help. your stomach lunges down when you hit send though. a pit of bubbling what if's searing through your abdomen.

your watch vibrates just in time, stupid fucking apple watch - "log in about how you feel today", you laugh in disbelief. shit… you feel like absolute shit. what else is one supposed to feel? or maybe, when you think back, you don't know what it is that makes you feel numb. why can't you just be fucking happy. the world surely isn't ending. definitely isn't.

the rest of the day passes by in a haze, you are pulled in back to back meetings where you have to constantly remind yourself to put a smile on your face, to have the tone with which you speak polite, to tell about your reason being you need a break from it all. over and over and over. some of them believe you, some of them don't really. not your problem, not your circus, not your monkeys.

"I'd just like to remind that you can't take any leaves during the notice period. especially for the smooth transition of your roles and responsibilities." your manager hums, eyes carrying foul judgement. "of course, have read the policy." you retort, the thing is, you don't want to sound so judgemental and so snappy… but somehow your brain doesn't function well with all the cumulative stress you've been carrying.

once the hellish meetings get over, you get up from the cabin, plastering the 'I don't give a fuck' face on and walking back to your place. your throat feels dry with all the talking you have done, hands reflexively reaching for your tumbler. you find out it's empty. of course. when the little-est things are capable of pissing you off, then, and only then does this happen.

you get up, walking towards the common water purifier cooler to fill it up, one of your colleagues walking over to you and smiling. "hi y/n" you hate her, she is a condescending bitch if nothing else, amongst one of those people who are highly insecure themselves, and would paint the same insecurity all over others to normalize their feelings. there have been several instances, she's looped you into things she does, which you hate and don't want to be associated with. for example: last week, she says, "oh y/n, we both are so similar and don't tolerate bullshit, I think you can still be fake around the others but jeez, I can't pretend." then don't pretend? and how can she decide what you feel? and what you think? sometimes it's nasty comments about where did you get your clothes from, where is the glittery eye-shadow that you’re wearing from, and then she goes ahead and tells you where it's from… man, you're realizing you're starting to dislike everything and everyone. does overstimulation make someone so snappy you wonder? if that's the case, how can you really get over it? do you need a trip to the mountains? a trip to the beach? what the fuck is it that you fucking need! "oye- y/n" the snap of her finger brings you back to reality. you plaster another smile, "hello, sorry, I was just thinking about something." "have you lost some weight? I don't understand how you get time to do all that with us working full time." there she goes again, you look at your body, if anything, you've gained a few pounds within the last few weeks. "no, I don't think so." "come on, you don't have to lie about your workout routine, be a girl's girl." you want to be a violence's girl and hit her in the fucking head with a chair. "I think maybe the outfit is giving you the illusion that I've lost a few pounds." you hummed, happy to walk away or you'll lose your grip.

after you resigned, the behaviours change. suddenly everyone thinks you're a traitor, someone who can't stay with the group and has to walk away. it's evident with the way they look at you. your eyes glance at the clock, and a wave of relief washes over you. just 30 more minutes, and you'll be off from work. another minute of relief. maybe you should go outside and take a smoke… you sigh and lean back against your chair, gnawing at your lip.

what does it mean to be truly happy? you wonder really… were you truly happy when all your friends/colleagues who have resigned now, were there with you? nope. you'd hate to admit to yourself, and the idea stings your eyes with tears… but you don't remember how it feels to be truly happy. it's pathetic to be in a state of equilibrium or sadness always. 2-3 years ago, you had reached a state of despair and had taken anti-depressants and therapy. they just make you robotic, what even could help… nothing does… nothing NOTHING NOTHING!

after spiralling, while looking completely put together, you get up and leave the work premises. stress-eating, you've been doing that a lot these days. maybe a sugar rush would help, yes, it should help. your feet walk towards the ice-cream shop close to your work, and you mumble, "madagascar chocolate ice cream please." the vendor knows you already, you visit frequently. which is why you know the exact price of the cone and transfer the money to him. "I'll have what she's having" you hear an unfamiliar voice from beside you, you've been stuck in your head so much, you totally ignored that there is a looming, tall man standing next to you. your head tilts up, and up, and up. jesus christ he's tall. his hair are white, and he's wearing glasses. it's evening… why is he wearing those glasses. you'd admit your thoughts evaporated the second you laid your eyes on him. ethereal, handsome, angelic, godly. he looked like an angel. wearing a loose fitted black tee shirt that accentuated his prodding collar bone. he looked rich, you knew he was. the cologne was unmistakable. you are not sure whether you'd like to talk any further, because it didn't feel like he's very much interested, his eyes are still dead set on the menu.

the vendor gives your ice-cream to you first, and then gives him the same scoop. you turn to walk away, when the man mumbles, "I trusted you, and this is bitter." you blink, you…? is he talking to you? you turned around and looked at him. "well, are you talking to me?" satoru's smile turns bigger, you looked so small compared to him, just holding your silly little ice-cream. the work bag and the outfit is a stark contrast to your face though. the little eye bags in your eyes as well. you seem, tired, overwhelmed and exhausted. still, you look beautiful. frankly, satoru is approached by so many ladies, he was intrigued what got you living in your head so much that you don't even notice him standing next to you. women slither around him to get his number, he's had a few… distractions to keep himself sane with his line of work. peculiar. you seemed quite peculiar.

"yes, I am talking to you." he walks closer to you, watching how your face tilts up again to make eye contact. "what’s your name?" he hums, taking another lick of the ice-cream. "well, since you talked to me first, I suppose you should be the one to introduce yourself first?" oh she bites… satoru's grin only turns wider. "satoru gojo. jesus." he laughs, "you know one of my colleagues remind me of you, always snappy and yelling and just… a little weak. it's cute. not her, I mean- she is just a plain nuisance." was this dude being condescending to you? your eye twitches, jaw flexing. "well, I didn't know you were so eager to make opinions about others just from a single sentence." his smile fades a little, "not really, maybe you're just too competitive, miss still hasn't told me her name." you hummed, "my name is y/n" your eyes circle back to him what a handsome fucking twink! "and not my problem you decided to trust a complete stranger and ordered the same ice-cream as mine, only to not like it. I'm not paying for it." satoru chuckles, "of course, I'm not asking you to pay for it, I have more than enough to buy this entire ice-cream chain and seize control of it all over the world, and then, ban your silly little flavour for good." joking… he's joking, but his smile drops when he sees the joke only offended you further. you don't look happy, you only look pissed at him. and perhaps disappointed. "not like I'd do that, over you not telling me your name directly." he waves his hand, dismissing that proposal. "I hope you enjoy having more than enough to buy entire ice-cream companies." you retort, "I have to go home, good bye." of course you have to go home, you are dancing between your two feet in those cramping heels. "those heels are expensive too." satoru comments, looking down at your feet. you look at him, what was even this dude's deal? "okay? yes? I don't know what you mean?" "I mean, the flavour of the ice-cream was expensive, the one you ate, and I hated it. the heels you're wearing, expensive, and you hate it… except you're not saying that you hate it?" those heels were new, and true, they scathed your heel. "hmm, whatever, I like them, which is why I bought them. I didn't trust some random stranger to buy red-bottoms. and I'm happy with them, they're just new. new things take time to adapt. they have to adapt to my feet, I have to adapt to them. if you had been careful enough to adapt to the ice-cream and not giving up on it, you'd have liked madagascar chocolate flavour too." you cross your arms and look at him with a pout. serene, you look serene for once. it’s a different emotion than what satoru saw when he came inside the ice-cream parlour. maybe, you're right. he shrugs, "if I don't like anything first time, first glance, it's not my thing." he responded, and you nodded. "makes sense, I liked these heels, and I will bear the consequences." you squinted. what were you even conversing about with a bloody stranger?

"ah, you don't have to you know?" WHAT IS IT WITH HIM… "I WANT TO!" you're already overstimulated, jesus fucking christ! heels heels heels, ice cream ice cream ice cream YOU WANT TO BE LEFT ALONE! a second or two later, you realize you had lost it on a complete stranger, tears brimming in your eyes, you have been keeping it in for so long even the slightest of nudge would have caused you to collapse. that was the sole reason you came here to have ice-cream in the first place. and now, you've lost it.

satoru's eyes widen a little when he sees your eyes glossy, a stray tear falling from them. "sorry, little girl. uh- I like your ice-cream flavour, it's strong- and it's- chocolatey- and it's- creamy- I like the heels- they really-" oh he's unsure what to say. he did have an inkling that you were someone who didn't seem at her best, he is perceptive enough for that, but he just didn't know that you were so easy to break right now. part of him feels a little guilty, another part of him feels numb, he's seen people killed, he's killed people. what would a stranger's tears be worth?

"that's fine. sorry I've just been having a shitty day." you mumbled, evading eye contact and looking at your feet. "I understand" satoru is quick to comment, smiling again. "y/n, you're too pretty to cry." the next sentence betrays all logic whatsoever in satoru's mind. you blink, attention diverted from the way you had made things awkward to the bubbling compliment. "thanks?" you snort, wiping your tears. satoru smiles, he doesn't know why he said that, but hey, that's the truth. "I usually don't tear up over petty things, it's just these past few weeks have been a mess and I've just resigned from my job so… don't worry I'm fine." your explanation makes satoru grin wider, so protective of yourself. "good, now you don't have to wear those shitty heels anymore, you can wear those comfy and nice side ons? you know? the ones with fur? and wear jammies maybe." you look at him and your eyes soften. YES, YES THAT'S EXACTLY IT!

you nodded, "yeah, and then eventually, I'll be a happy girl." you say this with such doubt it's pathetic.

satoru's heart does something to him when you say it like that, like what do you mean? "you don't sound sure y/n" he pouts, both your ice-creams melting by now. "well, I am half sure, I am fine otherwise anyways.." you look up at him again, god he's pretty, and why were you talking to a stranger! "well, maybe if I can have your number and check for myself?" bold, satoru can be bold when he wants something. "what would you do about it even if I am not happy?" "something different than you…" "why?" "see this is why you're not happy, just relax y/n chan!" he chuckles, because he doesn’t know either. he just, said it in a whim… and he means it, he likes you… the realization of all these feelings is happening so fast for him, he doesn't want you to take him like a fluke. "fine." you mumble, exchanging contacts with him. "I have to go home, I am tired." you mumble, finally walking away. he just nods, waving bye and observing you walk away from him, standing still, just watching like you're the main character in a movie. silly girl, now he's replaying this conversation in his head over and over and over with a silly lovesick grin.

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru patience #jujutsu kaisen #jjk imagines #jjk drabble #gojo drabble #gojo x reader comfort #gojo x y/n #jjk x y/n #jjk comfort #jjk x reader comfort #jjk fluff #gojo fluff #satoru gojo #satoru gojo fluff

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velvetvexations · 7 months ago

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Mother Velvet I just saw someone being very wrong about transandrophobia and I am being soooooo strong by resisting my desire to message them with a correction. I want, very badly, to (gently) correct their misunderstanding of what transandrophobia is and what people are actually arguing for. Unfortunately I am also of the knowledge that this is probably not a misunderstanding and that they would not listen to anything I say, and that even a gentle "hey that's not what people talking about transandrophobia are saying, that's not the conversation being had" would cause an argument that does more damage to me than just seeing them be wrong in the first place.

I want to say, no, transandrophobia isn't about men being the PRIMARY target of misogyny, that's not what we're saying! I won't say nobody is saying that because someone inevitably will have bad ideas about things, but the broad conversation around transandrophobia is that transphobes see us as women trying to be men and treating us with both misogyny (for being a woman incorrectly, and just having been born female to begin with), and malgendering us (for the crime of trying to be men, which is ontologically impossible for a silly wombyn to do and therefore must be corrected by showing that Dumb Idiot Baby Girl how impossible it is to ever really be a man). It is not, really, seriously not, about how transmascs are the real primary target of misogyny and everyone else is just collateral. It is not us wanting to be the victim, or wanting to barge into marginalized spaces and control the conversation to make it All About Men. It is not trying to argue that misandry is a systemic force. It is not equivalent to being an MRA blaming feminism for the suffering of men.

People talk a lot about how transmascs have a "toxic masculinity problem" and think that it's, like, some inherent aspect of being a man, or that we're trying so hard to be men that we uncritically repeat and reinforce toxic masculinity. As if trans people of all stripes aren't forced to perform the highest standards of their gender in order to be recognized as their gender, as if it's somehow unheard of for trans men to be forced to perform the height of masculinity in order to be recognized as men. Trans men are held to a higher standard of masculinity than cis men because we have to prove to the transphobe that we're "real" men! Cis men already have to perform masculinity to an extreme degree under threat of degendering, do people think that just doesn't exist for trans men? That it isn't worse for us (compared to the cis man) because degendering is misgendering and we have to fight tooth and nail for every shred of recognition as men? The only problem people are willing to accept transmascs have is the toxic masculinity issue, and that is at best seen as a very bad personal failing (and at worst an inherent aspect of Being A Man, and so also a personal failing for anyone who would "want" to be a man; the thought, even from other trans people, is that we "chose" this and so it's the bed we must lie in). Because we are men, because men have no problems, because transmascs trying to discuss their experiences with misogyny are just trying to take from women, trying to control the conversation and deny the reality that others are targeted too.

The idea that transandrophobia is saying we're the primary targets of misogyny is wrong, and I'm being so restrained by not saying anything to that person, not trying to correct them, because even though it's eating me up inside I would be even more hurt by whatever they say to dig in their heels as a response to me. (I sincerely hate that my autism will not let me let go of this stuff! I wish it would stop and that I could see people have Different or even Factually Wrong Opinions about the world without feeling personally betrayed but here I fucking am I guess; this isn't the first time I've come to your inbox to vent about it, I don't have anywhere to talk about these feelings so all I have been able to do with them is suffer through them until I can shove them into the little box in the back of my brain and hope I don't get intrusive reminders of them)

Y'know, I've experienced a lot of transphobic violence, from the emotional to physical. I was kicked out of my home by family members. I had to fight to be accepted as I am, and still have to fight because I don't pass, can't bind my GGG-cup breasts for medical reasons, am too disabled, too short, too mentally ill, too autistic. I was prepared for that, I knew I would be fighting an uphill battle. Trauma doesn't work right for me, I don't find stuff traumatic that should be, and do find stuff traumatic that shouldn't be; because I was prepared, because I knew what I was getting into and knew I would be happier as a man anyway, I have not been traumatized by the transphobia I have faced.

What I was not prepared for, what has stuck with me longer and hurt me more than being thrown out of my own home or threatened or beaten, was how other trans people treated me. How alone I was in a support club for the trans community at my university, in a class about trans art with nothing to show for trans men but boys don't cry and a drag race supercut from the professor's boyfriend, being told I was the wrong kind of trans for the community around me, that nobody knew what to do with me, and treated me like I was an invader desecrating some sacred soil.

In trying to talk about my suffering, I am taking up valuable space that could be given to someone else, someone who is not a man. In talking about the issues I have faced within the trans community, I am attacking trans women, trying to steal misogyny and claim I'm the primary target. It doesn't matter what I say, how gently I try to correct them, how much proof I have that those are not the conversations or goals of discussion, because that's what they want to believe about transmascs. That's the vision of transandrophobia they have. There is no way for me to change the mind of someone who willfully misinterprets what I'm saying.

I'll at least put this in the tag this so people can see it. <3

Transandrophobes are constantly assuming the most bad faith interpretations of what's being said and it's so exhausting even to observe. They're unthinking zombies reblogging second-hand shit about terms they have zero understanding of. It's infuriating just to observe let alone experience first hand.

#transandrophobia #also I love Mother Velvet ty

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aclowntiny · 2 years ago

Text

First ‘I Love You’ With Seventeen

Since Ateez got one & all! 😄 Warning: long post! 😂

S.Coups

Almost every time you spent time with Seungcheol and the guys, you ended up taking care of them somehow, breaking up spats or cooking for them or even just satisfying certain members’ desire for attention. Not that you were anywhere near a de facto leader- in fact, it was just like you were parenting them. And while that made Choi ‘Family of Six’ Seungcheol fall over himself, head over heels to show you appreciation and affection every time, sometimes he needed you to himself.

This was one of those times.

The jacuzzi water was warm as it bubbled around you two, arms hanging out the edge and glasses in hand like anyone high society in movies would do. Seungcheol nuzzled affectionately into your cheek, grinning at the way you giggled his name when his nose brushed your skin.

“This is nice, isn’t it? Just you and me,” he murmured.

“You and me and the moon,” you hummed cheerily, “it’s wonderful, not that I don’t love the guys, but this must be what parents feel like when they go on vacation together.”

So you saw it too? Cute. “They love you, you know. And I can see why. But I loved you first,” Seungcheol remarked, the words slipping out as he kisses your cheek, feeling whole right there with you at his side.

“Well, that’s good,” you replied, smile so beautiful Seungcheol didn’t even need to look at the stars to see a shine, “because I love them, but I love you more.”

Setting down his glass, Seungcheol swept you into his arms, pulling you for a real kiss as you both repeated your confession, warm in both the water and your embrace.

Jeonghan

Life was kind to you. You had the most loving and understanding boyfriend anyone could ask for. Jeonghan was the best listener you’d ever met, and while you were careful not to abuse that, he let you know time and time again that he cared, that you could talk to him.

So hesitant as you were, you had gone to him one night after a bad day at work, saying you didn’t want to dwell too hard but needed a vent, and all he did was pull you to his lap without another question asked. That day had brought dealings with a particularly rude person, someone who’d taken a low blow at your appearance and unfortunately chosen something you were sensitive about. As you rested with your head in Jeonghan’s lap, his hand playing with your hair, you sighed that though you had a lot of blessings in life, you just wish that one thing at least would go away.

“You know that says more about them than it does about you, right?” Jeonghan began softly. “You would never tear someone down like that, would you?”

“Of course not,” you replied instantly, no thought even necessary.

“That’s because you’re a nice person. You don’t feel the need to cover your flaws with someone else’s or feel better than them. Even if you are in my mind,” he joked, squishing your cheek and bringing your first genuine smile and giggle of the day out.

“Don’t worry about what strangers think, ok? Those things you don’t like about yourself? I think they’re beautiful,” Jeonghan peers down at you with a soft smile, dark eyes sparkling, “I love them. I love you.”

As much as people think of your boyfriend as some sort of jokester, you know he’d never joke about a thing like that. That fond look like he sees the whole world? That really is for you. He truly loves you as you are. Tears welled in your eyes, only to fall back as you reached up, hand brushing along the curve of Jeonghan’s cheek.

“I can say all the same to you, Jeonghan. I love you, too.”

Joshua

Joshua wanted to fall in love first. Wasn’t a fan of being flirted with, having passes made at him, anything that felt disingenuous. What he wanted was a reality, a friendship that carried through into the greatest of bonds, something that he found for himself.

He found you. Well, sort of. When he met you, you treated him like anyone else. Cared to ask him deeper questions, like what the meaning of music was to him or if he could have any one piece of knowledge, what it would be. Let yourself loose and were your silly, smart, kind self very quickly, and he admired your comfort in that side of yourself. Or the resistence to social inhibitions at least, even if it was a challenge.

He hadn’t even expected to really fall for you, but the more you spoke, the less he could help it. You two just made sense together, his energy calming you and yours encouraging Joshua’s fun side- anything to keep you laughing with him, and laugh together you did!

Selfish as it sounded, he didn’t want anyone else to make you laugh like that. He wanted your heart to carry him as his did you, so when you agreed to date him, confessed you’d love that, wore the bracelet he’d made you with his initial on it, his heart just melted. Much as you deserved your freedom, Joshua wanted to be a home to you, and now it was time to tell you that.

You notice he’s that much more loving to you by the way he looks at you, the way he rushes around to open the car door for you and the way his arm slides up and down yours as you make your way into the restaurant he reserved a nice dinner for you two at.

You know him well enough to recognize that he’s biting his tongue about something, like his whole mind is leaning on the edge of his seat as he listens to you, but you know he takes time sometimes to speak his mind- it’s just Joshua’s nature, and you can accept that. You love him, after all, and that’s part of that.

So you keep talking, joking around along with your boyfriend as he reminisces on something embarrassing that happened to him in high school you still joke about, and you remind him of that funny baseball game trip you took with your grandparents.

“I hope I’m as lively as my great-grandpa is at that age, the way he climbed over the bench!"

"Minus the mustard," Joshua chuckled.

"Minus the mustard," you agreed, "I'd like to be a mustard-free grandparent."

Grandparent. One word and flashes of imagination burst through Joshua's mind, wondering what you two would look like as the quintessential old married couple, how many grandkids you'd have- and here he thought he hated thinking like that.

“Ha, that's a great image- I can almost see it. I see a future with you, you know,” Joshua tells you, taking your hand in his, eyes locked on yours. They aren’t searching, though- all you can see is pure joy, reassurance.

You can’t help the warmth that rises to your cheeks. “And of course I can see you in mine,” you reply.

“I love you,” you both say at the same time, and that’s how Joshua knows it’s real- you’ve found it together.

Jun

Welcome to the longest day ever. As he trudged his way home, that was all Junhui could think. Travel was fun, but also so grueling between work, jet lag, and little sleep. All he wanted to do was eat something and crash. Then he’d sleep for eight to twelve hours and wake up grateful for all the experiences that were still a bit hazy in his mind.

As he opened the door, sweet relief flooded him, and yet it was the tiniest bit strange entering the solitude. At least until-

“Welcome home!”

He almost jumped, just barely managed to quell his nerves enough to remain steady. Turning, he saw you standing at the table, food laid out and even a little cake that said ‘Welcome Back Junnie!!! > ω <’ frosted on top.

He was grateful enough you’d taken care of things while he was gone, but making him a late dinner? That adorable cake? He wasn’t even upset by the break of solitude, he realized, because time with you was still going to feel like ‘me time’. And who wouldn’t be overjoyed to see someone stayed up late to cook just for you? No, overjoyed wasn’t it, he reflected as he fell into your arms, he was in love.

“I’m home,” he said, and as if it would make it real he repeated it, “I’m home.”

“It feels good to be back, huh? I knew a party would be annoying, but figured you’d need something to eat, so welcome home,” you told him.

As you separated, Junhui held you a bit closer than arms’ length, hands on your shoulders as he shook his head, chuckling to himself. “No, you’re home. It’s you I missed the most this whole time, (y/n). I love you.”

And the way your face slowly, beautifully drifted into a grin, your hands sliding back up to pull him in, Junhui sighed in relief and giggled with delirious, sleepless joy, knowing you’d found your home, too.

Hoshi

You and Soonyoung sat cuddled together on the couch, his arm around you as you chatted…or you had been, but that didn’t always last with you two. One of you- it was a toss-up on who, honestly- would inevitably say something that had you both laughing like fools, normal conversation and breathing alike almost completely abandoned.

Such was one of those times as you sat connected but folded as your sides were about to split in the kind of mirth that makes you feel worked out afterward. You often described it as the best feeling, so it was fitting to share it with Soonyoung, your frequently-cited other half. That was part of why you-

“I love you!”

It was as if he read your mind, the way the words fell so abruptly, spontaneously, wonderfully from his lips as you thought a near variant. You could tell by the sudden ‘o’ shape his lips took, followed immediately by the wide, adorable grin you loved so much, that Soonyoung hadn’t even known he was going to say it, it just slipped out in between laughs.

“Uh, well, that is, I mean-”

“I love you too, Soonyoung.”

“Ok, good, because I really actually love you a lot and-”

“I love you a lot too,” you cut off his stammering, hands cupping his cheeks and yanking him into a kiss that was also no laughing matter.

No flowers, no frills, but as you sat there making out with your favorite partner in crime on the couch, you knew you wouldn’t want your confession any other way.

Wonwoo

“Wow, this is beautiful! We’re really going out here?”

Out here, in this case, being the lake you rapidly approached, all but running down the dock to the little boat your boyfriend had rented. Trees surrounded the secluded spot, draping its reflections in green that reached endlessly for the sky.

“M-hm,” Wonwoo replied contentedly, expression bright as he followed behind you at a more normal pace.

"How romantic!" You gushed, taking in the sprawling water as Wonwoo extended a hand, gently taking yours in it as he lowered you onto the cushioned bench like a true gentleman.

"I know," Wonwoo agreed as he untied the boat, earning a chuckle from you, "I wanted a day with just us and nature."

Nature. Just like any life in earth, your relationship had taken time, nourishment, and care to grow. And being at Wonwoo's side was natural for you; his presence was calming, but not stifling. Joy, excitement, laughter all bubbled up, but not with the same tension, you reflected as you cut further across the blue expanse.

"What are you thinking about?" Wonwoo asks, a hand still guiding your vessel, palming the controls effortlessly. Not that you were staring or anything.

You lean on the side of the boat, watching the water ever so slightly part. "How you bring out the best in me."

"You?" Wonwoo breathed as you eased to a stop. "You bring out the best in me. Pull me out of my shell. Sometimes it feels easier to stay in the background, just take it all in. Sometimes I would wonder if I would ever truly catch the eye of someone who sees me. And when I'm with you, I feel interesting. I feel light. Happy, like everything around me is clear. When we're together, I'm whole, simple as that. I wanted to have this moment to tell you I love you, (y/n)." As he said 'this moment', his hand waved over the tree-lined horizon, emphasizing the pinkening sunset tinting the clouds like watercolor over the forest.

No rush had ever overcome your heart like that. You wanted to cut the tension with something silly, exclaim in surprise, but neither of you deserved that. This truly was a moment to enjoy, one of life's blessings to live in your heart whenever you needed gratitude, you thought as you peered into Wonwoo's eyes.

See? Totally balanced energy. Reaching over, you rested your hand over his.

"I couldn't agree more. I guess this is a pretty good moment to tell you I love you, too," you reply with a smile that only widens his.

Woozi

It was really such a surprise. Jihoon hadn't expected you to push your way into his heart, not when he'd thought those doors were still shut for a long time to come. And even just the way that he was, busy and not exactly of social personality, he hadn't exactly been planning on falling in love.

But that's the thing with love- one didn't exactly plan on it. You kept things up even when he thought he was being awkward, showed genuine interest in his passions, supported him, built onto it with small ideas that had him inspired even though they were just offhand comments to you. You could read him so well, even when he thought he needed to act. He didn't. You told him so. And being with someone so introverted, you learned well how to sacrifice big activities and nights out if you even wanted them that often.

"As long as I'm with you," you'd say with a smile, and that small, small phrase had looped its way around Jihoon's brain. Somehow, it said everything he wanted to say.

As long as I'm with you.

He didn't want to do it in the studio- you'd spent enough time there for him as it was. No need to do everything in his workplace, not when this was an us thing. So he went over to yours, the space that belonged to you and less frequently housed your time together for myriad reasons, though it felt right. He ordered your favorite for dinner, let you choose what you two would watch, correctly guessing it was going to be your favorite movie. Comfort movie, you always called it. Comfort person, he always called you.

You got the delivery, he threw the blankets down. You played the DVD, he laughed at every joking comment and impression you did even if you did them every time. Doing separate things, but you two were in total sync.

But finally, you spoke outside of the screen. "I-I really like spending time together here, too. I'm glad you were able to make it."

Your shy smile had Jihoon's heart doing loop-de-loops- maybe you were worried he'd think you were imposing? You were not.

"Of course," he replied, hand resting over yours as his eyes studied your beautiful features, features that had inspired more than a few lyrics, even if some got tossed in the end, "you do a lot for me, it's only right I do it for you. It's not always easy, but you're such a trooper. I love you, you know."

It shouldn’t be a big deal. You could feel it already, right? Seokmin tried his best every day for it to show, to create a world where you could bask in the feeling of it like the gift you were.

So why did it seem so hard to tell you he loves you?

Maybe because of his personality- you had to know it was in earnest, not just a joke, not him trying to be cute. His heart beating faster whenever he saw you, the strength you gave him to do anything because you believed in him, and he wished you guys could swap eyes to see how beautiful and precious you were to him.

Wait, so just…say all of that? Maybe too lengthy despite its verity. Maybe something he could practice? No, no script for this, just his heart held out to you. And maybe, just maybe, you’d see he means it if he’s serious, if you’re standing in your favorite place as he says it, somewhere he’d go every day if it made you smile.

And so he takes you there, practically just waving a hand at the potential time and expense if you bring it up. You're worth it, he tells you. All he wants is to have fun with you, you know. To share in something that makes you you.

Your face lights up as soon as you set foot in your favorite destination. “Seriously, I can’t thank you enough! Why are you doing this all of a sudden?”

The look in your eyes as you swivel to face him unleashes something, a soaring in his chest that he can no longer ignore- he wonders how he could have for so long. Like a wave crashing on a sea-bound rock, the words burst forth.

“Because I love you.”

Seokmin just, just gets in a glimpse of the way your eyes widen, shine even brighter if that’s possible, before you’re launching into his arms, giggling “I love you, too”.

Mingyu

He wanted to tackle you. He wanted to scoop you up and fly you off to some private island and tell you it’s yours, he’d give you the world if he could. But that’s just how dramatic love made Kim Mingyu. As it was, not really an option. And he knew you- that’s not what you’d want, and this was one hundred percent beyond a shadow of a doubt all about you.

But that was it, the gloves were…well, on, actually, as Mjngyu made his way into the kitchen for something that would be much more your speed. Something that, funny as the mental image would be, would not earn him a smack on the chest or a complaint about time and money. Just the thought made him smile. Pretty much any thought of you made Mingyu smile, even on days he wanted to cry, days where being his kind self took work.

And that was how he knew.

“Alright, alright, let’s see!” You laughed as your boyfriend took you by the shoulders, practically jogging you down the hall in excitement that took over you like the happiest of viruses. “What is it? You’re acting like you won the lottery!”

“I did,” he murmured into your ear as you rounded the corner, taking in all that he had set up for you.

The table perfectly set, a gorgeous vase of flowers and two candles a respectable distance from them as centers. Plates, cups, a wine bottle, dishes all at the ready for the meal set just where you could see it- a favorite from your home, clearly handmade.

“Mingyu, you-”. Your voice failed you momentarily beneath your ballooning heart, “how did you know to make this?”

“Got the recipe from your family,” he replied, and you swooned even more with mirth at the pride you heard in his voice, envisioning it even before you turned around to take in the real thing. Just as you thought he was standing quite straight, shoulders out and handsome grin flashing in victory.

“All this for-”

“For you, yes,” he took your hand, gazing into your eyes in the blinding way that always made your knees a bit weak, “I hope it shows. I couldn’t think of a better way to tell you I love you. …And believe me, I thought about it a lot.”

And there he was, sweet and innocent and wonderful as ever despite the bravado that made you laugh, shaking your head in utter wonder as you fell into his arms, feeling them close around you and trace your back in a way that said I’m never letting you go.

“Mingyu, I love you, too. So much.”

The8

Love is something Minghao considers often. Platonic, familial love that keeps him moving forward when things get difficult. The special love he shares with his friends that can keep him smiling in a hard time, laughing at nothing on a fishing trip or bouncing on a stage with his dear bandmates no matter how hot the weather is. The love fans have, whether that's a real love or not- much contemplation went into that area, what was the feeling of possession versus what was love.

Romantic love? Sure, he thought about that, too, and the answer to any doubts on that subject was modeled by none other than his parents, the way they raised him and brought each other's spirits up with full hearts you could just see in their eyes.

And he saw it in his own when he was with you. It was a truth as evident as the nose on his face or the color of his walls, and it's within those walls that the words slip forth. During a simple moment at home, just seeing you standing in his kitchen cracking eggs into a pan in the morning and all feels right in Minghao's world. It was you he wanted this life with, this home, this synergy. And the thought of bringing up a little mini-you? He was surprised how fast his heart beat at the thought.

Shuffling in behind you, he wrapped his arms around your middle as you cooked, feeling your cheek rise in a smile against his head and smiling right back.

"Good morning," you said, "It's a new day."

And those words of yours were like divine intervention, just another piece of proof you two were operating on the same frequency. "Good morning. It is. I'm so thankful for this day, when I can tell you how much I love you."

Seungkwan

"The beach wasn't the surprise?" You burst out incredulously.

Seungkwan had already brought you to gorgeous shores, the sound of waves crashing washing away worry, faithlessness, restlessness from your heart. There you'd both strolled for who knew how long, chatting idly, trading seashells, laughing lots as always, not a cloud in your physical or metaphorical skies.

And then he tells you he has a surprise for you.

At your question, he shakes his head, smiling shyly. "No, but I wanted to have this day with you. To make you happy and have a beautiful place for it all.

"You're so sweet!" As is their habit, as if they have a mind of their own, your arms find their way around his waist, pulling him closer to you.

Seungkwan melts into your touch, leaning forward just so until your foreheads touch. He stays like that a moment, hands on you as well, as if soaking in your warmth to carry with him. Then his arms are sliding down, gently unlocking from the embrace, though his hand gives yours a squeeze on the way out.

And he starts singing. That voice of his- you could never get enough, your eyes fluttering in threats to shut in bliss at the sound of it, and yet you want to stare, to drink in the sight. The words are familiar as home even though it's been a while since you've heard them, and your face immediately goes alight.

"I know this song," you remark quietly with a smile, watching the corners of Seungkwan's lips rise happily as he continued pouring forth sweet words.

It's a love song, probably about ten years old, and boy does it bring back memories of a simpler time, of wild imaginings of love as only conjured by a blissfully ignorant, sweet innocent mind. Back then, love could be whatever you wanted it to be. And right now, that idea doesn't seem so far off. Not when you have someone as encouraging, as faithful, as comforting and completely in tune with you as Seungkwan at your side. The man standing before you truly believes you can be anything and will do anything to help you achieve it.

As the last notes resound across your heart like carven sheet music, you're almost frozen to the spot, bare feet starting to sink into the sand as you grin dreamily.

"You remember that song?"

"Remember it?" You light up further, hands clasped. "I love that song! I used to insist it would be my wedding song when I was fifteen!"

"I wanted to learn it for you," Seungkwan continues, rubbing the back of his neck shyly with one hand while the other grabs for yours, "to make a moment worthy of telling you I love you."

Seungkwan could have told you he loved you in a McDonald's parking lot and your answer would have been the same, but his heart, his eye for detail, his sheer showmanship and yet humility blew you away. Your heart beat faster just for him as you raised your joined hands to your lips, hoping he felt the flutter too.

"Well, today was perfect. And even if it wasn't, I would still love you just as much. Which is a lot."

You considered saying more, but all that escaped you was a yelp as Seungkwan's hands fell to your back, dropping you suddenly in a dip as he kissed you at the sea's edge.

Vernon

He was usually so low-key.

Such thoughts are all you have as Vernon spoils you with a rooftop dinner, visions of the city surrounding your solitary peak on all sides. Neither of you dressed up often, but there you were, up to the nines at this gorgeous place you didn't even know you earned. Not that that was a good way to think. Knowing him as well as you did, you could hear Vernon brushing off thoughts like that. Sure you did, he'd say, you worked hard and he always wanted to care for you if he could. He was such a sweetheart. You wanted to carry his burdens, too, felt lighter and calmer around him. You loved him, but would that be too intense?

Either way, you didn't let such musings color your date stiff. Vernon talked about a movie he had just watched with Jeonghan and Seungkwan, giving his critiques but ultimately praising the romantic plot, how the love was so pure.

"The main male lead? He'd do anything for his love interest. He's willing to give up so much for her, and when she's ready to do the same? It's corny, but there's something so human about it. You know?"

"I do," you nod, leaning your hand on your chin, forgetting anything about elbows on the table as you gaze fondly at the object of your affection. You loved how he talked when he gave his little movie reviews, the passion in his eyes, the flowers in his words.

"It made me realize I'd do the same for you," Vernon continued, dark eyes softening into yours, melting your entire chest cavity to joyous mush.

Unable to help it any longer, you lean forward, connecting your lips with his, which move just as eagerly. The kiss is fast, but sweet, gentle brushes speaking just as much as Vernon’s sentiments.

“I would do it for you, too,” you breathe as the two of you separate, grinning like adorable fools beneath twinkling white lights.

“I came up here tonight because I wanted to tell you something,” Vernon adds, eyes never leaving yours, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Dino

Googling romantic date ideas had hit a jackpot, Chan thought as he whipped his arms, spreading the softest blanket he could find down.

“Tell me when I can look!” You called from some distance away as he laid the basket gently, almost tenderly down, feeling tense and turning twice just to make sure it didn’t drop or tip. Everything had to be perfect.

“In a minute,” he called back, grinning widely with joy, anticipation, even a hint of pride, “I’m almost finished, ok?”

“Ok!”

Chan’s heart swelled. You sounded so excited, too, joyful in voice and mannerism as you waited on the grass, back turned to him as he propped up the finishing touches.

“Alright, come here!” All but jogging over to you, Chan slung a hand over your shoulder. “Turn around, gorgeous.”

“Chan!” You giggled his name, reaching up to his his shoulder. He didn’t always talk like that, but praise and endearment were all his brain could come up with. You made him giddy, and for once there was no one around to tease him if he looked like a fool. And love was certainly making a happy fool of him.

When you turned around with him, your jaw dropped, widening to a slack smile at the sight Chan laid out for you. Upon the soft blanket he'd placed not just a picnic basket, but a chilled bottle of champagne, twin glasses, a pair of cute little bright solar lanterns, and a freshly wrapped bouquet of flowers.

"You did all this for me?"

"And no one else," he replied, arm still around you, guiding you as you both lowered into seated positions on the blanket.

"I feel so spoiled," you gushed as he handed you the flowers, smiling at the way you cradled them with gusto.

"You should," Chan grinned, pressing a kiss to your cheek, "I love you."

Flowers, glittering lanterns, and even food and wine forgotten for the moment, you knocked him on the blanket for a passionate kiss that spoke it all back.

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silversodas · 9 months ago

Text

The Fairly Odd Parents: A New Wish Observations

What actually sold me on giving this series a solid chance, was the theme song, why? Because for me it showed what the series is attempting to be, something that’s paying homage to the source material while being it’s own thing and knowing what it wants to be.

The original theme song is categorized as Electric Swing or Light Jazz. This new theme song sounds like straight up Swing and it SLAPS!

The Set Up

So Hazel Wells moves to the city with her parents for her Dads job and at the same time her older brother and best friend Antony has left for college. Leaving Hazel overwhelmed but still trying to put on a brave face for her family. Not long after arriving they are visited by their new next door neighbors

Cosmo and Wanda are masquerading as a retired human couple

Lol one of the gifts in the welcome basket Cosmo gives them is a jar of pennies. In some places it’s a thing to leave pennies as gifts for fairies, I wonder if Cosmo thought it was a custom human gift

The concept of the parents are pretty interesting, especially their jobs.

Angela is a therapist and author, with all of the non self awareness fairy world had going on her insight could definitely be interesting if she somehow finds out. she is also pretty open minded and non judgmental, not being off put by Cosmo and Wanda’s weird behavior and inviting them in

Marcus is a paranormal scientist, which instantly makes Cosmo and Wanda nervous but what makes him interesting is that he didn’t go in the direction I thought he was going. I thought he was going to go full FOP writing fashion and him basically say he was looking for fairies. But no, he is just wanting to learn the unexplained and mostly about ghost. I don’t know the fact that he is presented as a friend to Cosmo and Wanda who could be a potential obstacle because of the interest that are apart of his character is a lot more interesting then if he was presented as a blatantly obvious obstacle and that’s his only purpose as a character. ( not saying it was bad when FOP did it, they did it in a way that was funny just not to compelling)

Hazel figures out they are magic because both Cosmo and Wanda are piss poor at hiding it but Hazel actually completely drops it after being unable to get her parents to see it

Angela and Marcus actually make pretty good foils for Cosmo and Wanda they are both just completely normal people who highlight Cosmo and Wanda’s colorfulness just as they highlight Angela and Marcus’s normalcy. Hazel, Marcus, and Angela seem to be emotionally intelligent people and it makes them enjoyable and honestly is refreshing

This girl has more emotional maturity then I ever dreamed of having at 10, she keeps her brave face until she hears that Antony can’t come visit till the holiday brake, she has an understandable brake down and her parents feel really bad they are having to change so much so fast for her.

She almost runs away until Cosmo and Wanda catch her (which is interesting because when she passed them on her way up stairs they where to busy with their mail to pay attention to her, but when she is about to run away their full attention snapped to her. Their “child is about to do something stupid”senses must have been tingling) she relents and vents to them about her troubles and that she just wanted to see her brother.

Cosmo and Wanda seem to have a Cathartic moment in realizing that Hazel needed help and that they realized that they were ready to be Godparents again. It was this moment I was like “yeah, you guy’s definitely retired because letting go of Timmy hurt you”

It’s when after everything is resolved and Hazel visits their vary magical and whimsical apartment (I bought the episodes on YouTube but they wouldn’t let me take screen shots) that they reveal that they had been on a 10,000 year sabbatical through time and space during their retirement. They don’t bring up Timmy, just say that they used to be Godparents to kids but then retired for 10,000 years (and no it’s not 10,000 years into the future, they were just time traveling). They actually nervously ask Hazel if she would consider being their Godkid which she enthusiastically agrees too. Don’t make pacts with fairies kids

How it’s going so far

Something interesting to note that while they never bring up Timmy, he kinda haunts the background I think they still have some unprocessed grief for Timmy that may get unpacked. I herd this show is supposed to get an overarching story and after seeing a few episodes I can tell that it’s staying consistent that it’s not completely episodic even if it’s a slow build ( as slow as it’s allowed to be anyway)

It looks like their human personas are their default disguises, that has the potential to be interesting in future episodes

I can tell that Hazel is still not 100% close with Cosmo and Wanda right off the bat, she is still getting to know them, like it was actually so enduring to watch her formally thank them for playing with her. Cosmo and Wanda are also trying to ease themselves in for her sake, but it’s clear that even though they are out of practice they are all in for this little girl and are in Godparent mode. Wanda is never not in Mom mode, and Cosmo already knows all of her special interests off the top of his head in the short time he has known her.

I don’t know, I just saw that a lot of people have been “rightfully” cautious about this show or have written it off, and just wanted to share some things that I thought made it interesting and made it worth giving a look

There are some who are a bit hopeful because one of the writers for infinity train is on the writing team so who knows

#fop #the fairly oddparents #the fairly oddparents a new wish #fop a new wish #fop a new wish spoilers #not the stuff I usually write about #but it did catch my interest #idk I just hope this didn’t get to rambley

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heliads · 1 year ago

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To the Moon and Back

Based on this request: "do u think u could do one where the reader has like the worse panic attack in their life n fred helps them n snuggles w them after n stuff?"

a/n changed somewhat to be about stress because i need a chance to vent

masterlist

The countless corridors and stairwells of Hogwarts have many positives. They’re gorgeous, for one thing. They get you where you need to go at least some of the time, depending on how much the stairs feel like moving properly. They let you see your friends and sneak around after hours, hidden by the true darkness only a castle can bring.

And now, when you need it most, they let you hurry up to your dorm unbothered by ghosts and Slytherins alike. Today has been— a day, to be sure, a bad one, and what you want most right is for it to finally be over. You don’t want to see anyone, and you certainly don’t want anyone to see you.

It’s just, Merlin, life is so difficult. There’s so much to do all of the time. Even outside of classes, you have to carefully maintain your friendships, you have to join clubs or organizations so you can be perceived as having a life but specifically a life that can be marketed towards future careers. You should stay busy but not too busy; seeming like a frazzled mess all the time is unbecoming. Just the right amount of manic panic is okay.

And then there are the classes, which are completely killer. Hogwarts is one of the best magical schools around for a reason, but that reason is that students have to suffer through difficult classes with lots of homework all the time. Long essays drive you to exhaustion. Difficult exams make you want to give up and curl into a ball. And all of it is graded, graded harshly, graded without a single thought to the fact that you have tried so hard for so long and none of it matters.

It’s enough to drive anyone up the wall, and you’re no exception. Everything has been piling up for so long– so many assignments, so many tests and quizzes– that by now you’re just a glass statue of a student that’s more than ready to shatter at the slightest touch. Someone so much as looking at you wrong is enough to set you over the edge, and that happened tonight.

Hot tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you hasten your steps towards your dorm. Once you make it to Gryffindor Tower and you can get to your bed and pull the blankets around you and just block out the world until you fall asleep, you’ll be okay, you just have to get there first. Every moment you spend with your eyes open is one that you can’t stop thinking about all the thousands of ways you have messed up in this one life of yours and all the ways that you can’t fix it.

You can feel your breath catching in your lungs. It’s like you’ve been reduced to buzzing wires and chattering nerves, nothing more. There’s no time to rest. There’s no time to do anything but study or do work or be productive. Everything has to be perfect, but nothing is. You’ll never be perfect, and that thought makes you want to burst into tears.

You somehow make it to the portrait of the Fat Lady, who regards you with a baffled stare. Even after you choke out the password, she frowns down at you for a second, launching you into a tidal wave of wondering if you really do look that bad, and worse still, how many people must have noticed that and figured out that you have absolutely nothing under control. A moment later, the painting swings forward and you’re admitted into the Gryffindor common room, but that moment feels like an infinity of terrible overthinking.

You ball your hands into fists at your sides, trying to use the sensation of your fingernails digging into your palms to distract you from the tears waiting to let themselves go. Your head is a mess, and it takes everything in you to nod and smile at your friends, who were talking by the fire and wave when you pass by.

How is it that they’re in the same classes as you but they somehow have the time to just relax like this every evening? You’re practically worked to the bone every day, but they’re fine. Maybe it’s just you, then. Maybe the problem is you, because if they can do it just fine and you can’t, then who else is to blame?

You hurry past them. The stairs to the dorms are right there, you’re so close, but–

A hand on your arm; you’re pulled to an abrupt standstill. “Is everything alright, Y/N?”

You look up to see Fred Weasley peering down at you. He seems awfully concerned, and usually you’d appreciate your friends looking out for you but today you just want it over: the prying eyes, the attention.

“I’m fine,” you get out, and try for a smile but settle for something kind of like a grimace.

You try to keep going but Fred follows after you. “No, you’re not. D’you want to tell me what’s wrong?”

“I don’t,” you tell him, and horrifically, a sob builds in your throat as you say it.

Fred hears it and tries to get back to you, but you’re already hurrying up the stairs to the girls’ dorms. At least he can’t follow you there. At least then, you’re away from it all, because everything around here is way too much and you just can’t take it anymore. You don’t want to see anyone. You don’t want to be reminded of how poorly you’re doing and how great everyone else is.

You fling open the door to your room and hurl yourself onto your bed. Thankfully, none of the other girls from your year are here, so you don’t have to worry about any witnesses when the sobs cascade from you, loud and wracking and practically painful in their intensity. You wanted to block out the whole world and so you do, curling up on your side with your eyes shut tight, almost convincing yourself that nothing exists outside of you and your bed and this raw, raw agony that won’t leave you alone.

The only thing that breaks through the spell is the creak of your dorm door opening. You freeze at once– you really don’t want any of your friends to see you like this, not in the slightest– but the sheer surprise of hearing Fred’s voice as opposed to any of your friends makes the tears pause for a moment in their relentless cascade down your cheeks.

You poke your head up slightly to see if you’ve just misheard it, but no– that’s Fred standing there, looking cautiously around the room until he finds you.

“Y/N,” he says, and you swear you can hear his heart breaking in the syllables, “Sweetheart, talk to me. Please.”

You shake your head, drawing back away from him. “Just go, please. Leave me alone.”

“I’m not going to do that,” he tells you.

You shake your head. “It’s what I want. Come on, Fred, you shouldn’t even be up here.”

“Tell that to the stairs,” he says, smiling somewhat lopsidedly as he pads across the room to take a careful seat on the side of your bed, “They let me in. Maybe they sensed that you needed someone to talk to.”

“I don’t want to talk,” you sigh, flopping back against the pillows.

Fred just shrugs. “Then don’t. I’m still going to be here for you, though.”

You hear the twin sounds of his shoes being taken off and falling to the floor, then he carefully scooches you over so he can sit next to you. Fred maneuvers your head into his lap and begins to softly trace circles into the skin near your forehead, your temples; slowly and deliberately taking pressure away from your head.

“I don’t like seeing you hurt,” he says against the quiet stillness of the empty dorm, “and whatever hurt you like this, I’ll do whatever I can to fix it.”

You choke out a bitter half-laugh. “You can’t. It’s all my fault.”

You can’t quite see Fred’s face from your position, but you can sense the frown lingering over his words when he speaks again. “What d’you mean? Of course I can. We can do anything together, don’t you remember saying that when we were kids? If the problem is school, we’ll study together. Or I’ll extract notes from someone else, that may be more helpful. If it’s something else, we can take breaks like this all the time, or go out into Hogsmeade, or do anything if it makes you happy. I’ll do anything to make you happy.”

In spite of yourself, you find yourself distracted by the even, sweet rhythm of his words. It’s much easier to focus on him than the war inside your head, and so you do. “We can’t go to Hogsmeade, Fred. It’s not winter yet.”

Fred chuckles, and you can feel the vibrations of it through his ribs and against your head. “Sweetheart, you can hardly expect me to follow the rules at a time like this. I’d sneak us both out of the castle, obviously. I’d take you anywhere. London. France. The moon.”

This time, your smile comes a little faster, a little easier. “There’s no secret tunnel out of Hogwarts that leads to the moon, silly.”

“Well,” Fred contemplates, “That’s just because we haven’t found it yet, obviously. Give me time, I’ll work on it. Maybe we’ll swing by Saturn while we’re at it.”

You drift into quiet silence, letting the gentle pattern of Fred’s fingers against your shoulders fill the gaps. Slowly, surely, you can feel the stress starting to ebb away from you, replaced with the hushed lull of peace. It’s lovely right now, actually, you’re just scared that the second Fred leaves, everything will come rushing back. It makes you curl your shoulders into him a little more, press just that much closer against him.

As if he can read your thoughts, Fred’s arms wrap protectively around you. “I’m not letting you go anytime soon, lovely. I’ll stay all night if I need to. Not until I know you’re going to be okay.”

“That might take a while,” you warn him.

When you glance up to check the truth in his expression, you’re rewarded with a soft smile twisting over his lips. “That’s perfectly fine by me,” he tells you, and you believe it.

And so a terrible evening is made into a better one. The overwhelming stress will come again, you have no doubt of that, but for once it’s not on your mind right now. The bad times will always return to challenge us, but you have a new defense that you didn’t have before. You have Fred, and you have the memories of this quiet peace, the knowledge that things will get better, always. That, by itself, is a good reason to keep going.

harry potter tag list: @rogueanschel, @cameronsails, @neewtmas, @lovesanimals0000, @with-inked-solace, @sher-lokid7, @eclliipsed, @frenchgirlinlondon, @23victoria, @ilovexavierthrope

#fred weasley #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley oneshot #harry potter #harry potter imagines #harry potter x reader #harry potter oneshot #harry potter fred #harry potter fred imagines #harry potter fred x reader #harry potter fred oneshot #weasley twins #weasley twins imagines #weasley twins x reader #weasley twins oneshot

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acti-veg · 14 hours ago

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Hi! So uh, first of all I just wanted to say thank you for everything you do :) your book and your blog were some of the main things that even made me go vegan in the first place and I still learn a lot from your articles and posts!! You’re an amazing activist! Seeing people like you restores my faith in humanity tbh so thank you again so so much 💗

Anyway, I’m writing this ask because I’ve been struggling a lot emotionally as a vegan and I feel like I need advice from someone more experienced. I know you must spend a lot of time interacting with carnists when advocating for veganism. You’ve been doing this for years and still you’re going strong, so I just wonder how you manage to stay positive and not get too hurt in the process…

My problem is that whenever I see animal products or hear people spreading carnist views I react overly strongly. Often, I almost feel physical pain and can’t bring myself to interact with those people, it just hurts so much. Animal cruelty is everywhere and it feels like I can’t do anything about it. It’s heartbreaking, horrifying, depressing, and the worst part is how normalised it is.

It feels like there’s no escape. Somehow I can’t go outside without walking past a meat market, I can’t cook for myself without seeing a chicken corpse in the fridge, I can’t even play a video game without seeing images of animal products, etc... All these things are supposed to be normal, but they’re just so distressing to me. What makes me feel especially horrible is seeing/hearing anti-vegans spreading misinformation and such. I feel like if I see another post saying that "leather is good and sustainable actually" I’m going to explode. Is it just me or are other people that affected as well?

This would probably be easier to deal with if I had an ethical vegan friend or two who’d understand how I feel, but I don’t have any. I live with four carnists and even my partner apparently hates vegans (tried to tell them about my feelings and they got personally offended). And I know there’s a big community of vegan people out there, but there’s not nearly enough of us and I still feel so isolated and alone in my experiences.

I’m so sorry for venting. What I meant to ask is, do you ever feel like that? Is there anything that can help me not feel depressed whenever I see animal products? And thank you so much again for doing what you do. You are truly a wonderful person and I hope life treats you well <3

Thank you for the kind words, I’m so glad my blog had an impact on you!

I’m sorry to hear that you’ve been having such a bad time of it, I wish I could say that this isn’t common but I’ve had dozens of asks like this one. I firmly believe that going vegan is an extremely positive decision, but there are negatives that come from knowing what we know, and trying to exist in a society that is built on the backs of exploited animals. We have all felt like this, myself included.

Honestly, it sounds like you may consuming a bit too much vegan content, or possibly spending too much time engaging wifh and thinking about veganism specifically. Do you have any hobbies that help relax and distract you? Reading, gaming, exercise? I find all of these really helpful for clearing my head, especially exercise. There is such a thing as overexposure for vegans, and I’ve definitely been there myself.

What helps me most is trying to focus on the positive side of being vegan. Follow more positive content like sanctuaries, rescue centres, recipe creators, plant-based fitness blogs - whatever makes you happy. Avoid engaging with upsetting content, that includes graphic footage of any kind, anti-vegan content, debates and arguments. Create a little bubble for yourself that you can escape in, even if that means having seperate accounts for when you’re feeling this way and just want some escapism.

Try and visit an animal sanctuary, even if you have to make this a long term goal if there isn’t one that is accessible to you. I can’t describe how helpful this is an experience, to remember who this is all about and the fact that not all animals are suffering and unhappy. Seeing wild animals in their natural habitat can achieve the same thing.

For me, the best balm to this sort of feeling is activism. It is a big part of why I do this, it isn’t all altruistic. Turning some people of that negative towards something positive can help you feel much less helpless. See if there are any animal rights groups in your area (you’d also make vegan friends) but if not, try doing some of your own work, even if that is just online, signing/making petitions, blogging, letter writing - whatever you can do.

I’d also recommend this talk from Melanie Joy about activist burnout, which something close to what you’re experiencing, and she has some really helpful advice. That pain and disconnect from others will always be there, but I hope you manage to find some tools for coping with it that work for you, that is really all any of us can do. Take care of yourself, anon!

#ask #vegan #vegan problems

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laura1633 · 7 months ago

Note

and we're already back to the 5, 10K liked tweets about how 'max cant race' 'max only wins when he has a good car'

i know max himself has said he doesn't care what people think about him, but i imagine it must be exhausting to have every single one of your achievements be constantly denigrated.

to these people, 21 was a gifted win, 22 the car was illegal, 23 anyone could have won in a car that fast. and this season, when he's driving what is clearly a lesser car to the absolute limit and dealing with constant team issues so understandably makes mistakes, he's a "bad driver".

everything he does is somehow wrong, and the biggest motorsports media (sky) does absolutely nothing to reject those sentiments, and most of the time, make it worse.

honestly, i'm getting to the 'i cant wait until max leaves f1' point because i feel like only when he's retired will be people understand what a brilliant and generational talent he is.

(sorry for venting in your inbox 😭)

That's okay, it's fine to vent. We can vent today and then move forward to the next race 🥰

I think Max is a pretty intelligent guy. I think he understands how the media works and understands the British bias (and if he doesn't understand that then I guess he can always give Fernando a call!)

I think the important thing to remember is that those who shout the loudest are not always right. There are plenty of well respected people who see Max for the generational talent that he is. I know that there are some nice and rational people on twitter but honestly at times it feels like a bit of a cesspit of misinformation so I don't think he will be losing sleep over twitter comments (Which is a good thing as he needs his rest according to sky 😂)

The fact that making a mistake is such a huge deal does in fact show how amazingly consistent he has been over the last few years. People have very high standards for him.

We can't really take a lot of these people seriously, especially when they call out Max and then turn around and say they respect Schumacher or Senna.

When Max retires he will absolutely go down as one of the greatest drivers of all time and there isn't a thing some "fans" or sky sports can do to stop that. The results and achievements and the talent all speaks for itself.

Also, it's kind of funny because today was an absolute shit show and he still finished P5 and only lost a small amount of points compared to his nearest rival.

#laura1633 asks #Max Verstappen

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nomatterwhatnomatterwhere · 4 months ago

Text

What a ( Not so) Strange World: Extra- Yuu's Interlude

Author's Note: Hello, yes, as always I am late, but hey, we are here somehow. Sorry it's not an actual chapter, more like a little extra - spoilers? sneak peek? - about the next chapter, but I didn't feel like leaving you with nothing so I hope you can enjoy this little extra too

Warning: slight angst, little mention of a panic attack

Masterlist

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

"Dear, I understand you're worried, but you won't help anyone by refusing to take care of yourself."

That was the first thing Yuu heard when they woke up, somewhat confused and disoriented, their breathing quickened and a weight on their stomach.

"While on the other hand pretending nothing has happened helps a lot’ that was your voice, rather shrill and definitely disgruntled ‘ Crowley hasn't even come to check on our condition and Riddle isn't doing any better, Cay said he has nightmares but pretends everything is fine, he doesn't even talk to Trey about it and-"

‘The HeadMaster is … not very empathetic, but I'm sure if he felt it necessary to intervene, he would have.’

That was Professor Trein's voice. Why was Trein in Ramshackle?!

"Yeah sure, because letting his students deal with an Overblot was not a situation where his intervention was needed!"

You sounded increasingly angry and even a little disappointed, if Yuu could read between the lines correctly

"I was scared. I've never seen anything like that. I've never even read about it! I didn't know what to do!" you were starting to sob " Crowley was busy evacuating students who were running away without him intervening anyway, while we were faced with a Riddle who wasn't really Riddle trying to kill us!"

Yuu heard Trein sigh as you sniffled

‘’He's the HeadMaster! How did he not realise one of his students was about to explode!"

"Crowley didn't -"

"He hasn't checked on Riddle once since he came out of the Infirmary. Trey said he made sure his magic levels were within normal range. As if the problem was his magic levels and not his mood or mental state, or whatever it is that causes an Overblot!"

After a few minutes of silence, Yuu was about to make it known that they were awake, but stopped, when they heard Trein speak

"Now that you've vented’ Yuu had never heard Trein speak in a tone of voice that was different from the soporific tone he used in class, yet here we are ‘ Would you kindly explain to me why Lucius found you wandering around the school aimlessly at" brief pause "three in the morning, when tomorrow, today, you have class?"

"As if you didn't already know"

"I'd rather hear it directly from you than make assumptions and maybe draw wrong conclusions."

And you started telling about how you couldn't sleep since the Thing had happened, that's what you had called the Overblot for all the talk, that you closed your eyes and saw only those rose bushes trying to hit you and in your ears you could hear that Riddle's evil laughter in anger.

Yuu could share the feeling, but in their case the adrenalin of that moment had turned into tiredness as soon as their heads hit the pillow.

Wandering around the school gave you back a sense of control, calmed you down and distracted you from whatever was going on in your head.

How back at the dormitory you had heard Yuu mumbling something and worried.

If you, who knew magic, even destructive magic, had trouble coping, it must have been even harder for Yuu.

By the way, Yuu was already having trouble sleeping, even if they hadn't told you, but you weren't blind and you remembered perfectly the look on their faces when Ace had first invited himself into the dormitory.

It was obvious they had nightmares about their situation, you'd had them too when you'd first arrived there, but you'd had support, Yuu seemed left to their own devices and you didn't know how to help

"Does Divus know you're here, or should I expect a second interrogation?" you asked once the whole thing was over

"Lucius threatened to strip his fur. But you didn't hear that from me" replied Trein, making you chuckle.

Yuu heard your footsteps moving away, and released a sigh.

This conversation had raised more questions about you :you had answered some of the questions Yuu had asked at the Unbirthday Party organised after the Overblot.

When Trey had ‘revealed’ that Cater did not like sweets, the ginger had immediately turned his gaze in your direction

"Don't look at me Cay, I didn't say anything."

"Maybe you got bought off by his chocolate muffins" Cater had joked to which you had responded without missing a beat

"They're berry, if we're being clear, and he hasn't offered me one in years"

"Blame yourself for that" Trey had inserted himself into the exchange, throwing you a look that Yuu hadn't quite managed to read, but which you seemed to have understood

"I'm sorry, okay? But it's not really all my fault. I'll make it up to you."

You had confessed that you had known both of them for a long time (‘Isn't it like I tried to hide it, though?’) as you consciously watched a piece of your tart disappear into thin air.

You also knew Che'nya, which made sense if you were childhood friends with Trey, though that didn't explain why you didn't know Riddle

(‘They met Riddle before they met me’ you had explained as you watched the three of you interact with each other ‘ We never got a chance to meet, but Che'nya liked to say I would like Riddle. Now I understand why’ you had not argued further)

If it had been another situation Yuu would have thought Trein was just worrying that a student hadn't broken the rules, or something like that, but this wasn't another situation.

You had called Crewel by his name without any problem, as if you were used to it, you had even joked with Trein as if it were routine.

The mere fact that Trein was using a non-suffusive tone was a huge clue that you had known each other long enough.

The thing was, it didn't make sense to Yuu: your parents had to have some connection to the NRC, otherwise it didn't explain the relationship you seemed to share with the two professors.

Heh. You hadn't actually talked about your family.

You weren't talking about yourself in general, now that Yuu was paying attention.

They should have asked you, as soon as you felt a little better, it wasn't a case of burying yourself in questions you might not want to answer.

You had a bad habit of keeping your problems to yourself, from what Yuu could guess, and forcing yourself to talk about them would probably have the opposite effect.

The next morning had arrived without too many problems, if you excluded yet another bizarre dream and the fact that Grim was a rather rude night owl.

You had already gone out, leaving a note on the kitchen table in which you apologised for leaving without telling them, but you didn't want to wake them up.

You had things to do before going to class, so if you hadn't passed each other in the corridors, you would most likely have seen each other in the Cafeteria.

You hadn't specified what it was you were supposed to be doing, but if Yuu understood anything about you it was that if there was something you didn't understand or didn't know the meaning of then it was time to do some research.

From the conversation they'd overheard that night Yuu would have bet you'd been researching everything you could about Overblot

( Or how to remove Crowley from his role as Head Master, that too could have been a research topic)

Although, if they had to be honest with themself, Yuu believed you wanted to avoid Ace as much as possible, and considering how the two Heartlabyul students were now regular guests at Ramshackle, leaving before he and Deuce arrived at your dormitory was the only solution.

You and Ace didn't know each other. Or at least, Ace certainly didn't know you, yet the annoyance Yuu perceived coming from you whenever the redhead was nearby was only understandable after years of acquaintance.

Ace was cocky, touchy, tactless, and had a rather peculiar way of showing that he cared about someone, but he wasn't just flawed, he fought for injustice, took an interest in other people's motives, and was their friend.

Yet the look you gave him when Riddle had recovered from his Overblot was furious. If you had been in another situation Yuu would have sworn you would have sewn Ace's mouth shut yourself.

It was something you did a lot, Yuu wasn't sure if you realised it, but whenever Ace was in your vicinity you not only visibly stiffened, but also assumed a bewildered expression whenever the boy spoke.

If someone had asked them, Yuu would have said that your reactions stemmed from the fact that you were very similar to Ace in the way you acted, but you weren't aware of that, and you certainly weren't ready for that conversation.

And even more surely Yuu wouldn't have brought up the subject with you, they didn't want to risk the blatant favouritism you had towards them.

Omake:

Good morning,

Well, I hope it's a good morning, but considering how much Grim talks in his sleep, I wouldn't be surprised. I have things to do before class and didn't feel like waking you up - not least because having a moaning Grim around in the early morning is not what I aspire to. To make it up to you, I made breakfast! If Ace and Deuce come, offer them biscuits but remind them that they have a respectable dorm and I don't want any trouble with either Trey or Riddle about their diet, thank you.

Make sure you're not late for class with Professor Trein, he hates latecomers!

P.S. If we don't run into each other in the corridors, save me a seat at the table in the Cafeteria.

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #reader insert #twst x reader #disney #ace trappola #cater diamond #deuce spade #trey clover #riddle rosehearts #che'nya

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writtenontheport · 2 years ago

Text

Just a Night at Portland Row

(pt.1) (pt.2)

Anthony Lockwood x (gn) Reader

Warnings/Tags: Literal romcom, These people are silly, Everyone’s so sillycore here, teary confessions, someone accidentally confesses, nothing dramatic happens he’s just silly, Childhood friends to lovers, Lockwood is kinda stupid (affectionate), no smut or suggestive content, Lockwood and co and reader friendship, whether or not what Lockwood says at the end actually happens is up to you!!

Notes: I have quite a few issues with this one, and I’m not entirely satisfied with it, but I think it’s one of the better ways I could go about it. I also put all the flowers meanings at the bottom, so if you were curious I did in fact plan the flower meanings (I am a nerd). This finale has gone through about 20 revisions on the first day alone, so if anything seems jarringly out of place, I am so sorry 😭 I was all over the place with my ideas.

Summary: Just before supper time, you and Lockwood have a heart to heart, and it starts as it always has: with flowers, with tears, and a little funny thing called love.

word count: 2.4k+

“George,” Lockwood says seriously. It’s the first time George has ever seen him so serious about something that isn’t Lucy or him dying and it shocks him how quick he is to steel himself for whatever it is. “I need you to get Lucy to bring them down here, if you can, please.”

Now, ‘them’ is obviously referring to you, who’s laughing away upstairs with Lucy so loud they can hear it ring through the vents. If this wasn’t something George has genuinely been excited for, he would have smacked Lockwood upside the head for using that terrifying tone. “Don’t say it like that, prick. Thought someone was dying there.”

Lockwood grins at him from where he’s messing with the bouquet stood up on the table. The paper wrapping hasn’t been removed, courtesy of the empty vase and that water would most likely melt it; ribbon still intact. They stand, not quite fully in bloom (which is the best way to buy flowers, because otherwise they wilt right away) but just on the precipice of it. It’s packed with other, smaller additions, but at the heart of it, well. Maybe Lockwood did know something about the language of flowers.

“How’d you even pick them out?” George asks instead, watching Lockwood’s grin wobble.

“I made friends with the shopkeeper. He wouldn’t tell me what any of them meant, but he said they were good flowers— like the carnations. One of them though… these white ones here, just felt familiar somehow.” He kept messing about with the bouquet, meddling with any loose leaf or bud. “Can you please go get them? I want them to be able to see the flowers before they wilt.”

George does swat Lockwood for that, but he goes upstairs to get you. You and Lucy have moved to her room on George’s urging (he made Lockwood wait outside before coming in to make sure you didn’t know) and were lying in her bed on your stomachs, reading and sharing books. Lucy’s the first to look up at him, raising a brow as she nudges you.

“George? Everything ok?” You ask, propping yourself up to sit criss cross on the mattress. “Has Anthony come back yet?”

“He has,” he says simply, “He says he needs you in the kitchen. Lucy should stay since she must be tired from the case yesterday.”

From behind you, Lucy has a moment of realization that has her tucking her lips to hide a smile. Quietly, she puts a hand up to her forehead in a salute to George.

“You should go check,” she says, “Who knows what kind of trouble he might be in.”

“A lot of trouble,” George adds, nodding slightly along. You narrow your eyes in suspicion, but you get up off the bed.

“I’ll save your place!” She calls just as you’re headed down. George walks 2 steps behind you to hide his expression before he can school it, feeling giddy with nerves that aren’t even his to have. He wonders how Lockwood’s doing, stopping just at his bedroom door.

You turn back, asking “You aren’t coming?”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine.” He rocks gently on his feet and pulls his hands behind his back, reassuring you with a calm nod. “Off you go, Lockwood’s probably burnt himself making tea by now or something.”

“I’d hope not…” you mumble, each step down like a crescendo in the world’s most suspenseful piece of music— every floorboard creak like the lead instrument and your heartbeat acting a steady base. On a sheet you’re sure it looks hideous, but it levels out when you open the door and Lockwood’s waiting there by the counter, looking like he’s straight off a magazine. The silence creeps in, but the piece rises to new heights as the sound of everything— the floorboards, the vents— suddenly dulls out.

You step into the kitchen, and let the door shut behind you.

There is your Anthony, standing there in the middle of the kitchen with a bouquet full of dazzling pink tulips, red roses, and spots of white jasmine flowers. There is Anthony, the boy you’ve known and loved for years— looking at you like he always does: like you’re the whole world and sky and everything he wakes up for.

Neither of you speak for a good minute, but it’s not without trying. Lockwood spends that pregnant pause fumbling for words, before—

“I love you,” He says.

The words come rushing out his lips, hurried and desperate. It shocks you how simply he puts it, like a sudden rest in the notes that takes you by surprise. He looks surprised too; horrified, really, that he’s just blurted that out. He swallows thickly, steeling his expression into something determined.

“I—“ you pause, the words caught in your throat, blood pounding in your ears. You think you tear up, but you can’t really tell when the whole world narrows down to Anthony Lockwood across from you in the kitchen of Portland Row, professing his love in the spur of the moment. You grow warm with affection, taking a step closer to him as the music of your singing heart drowns out everything but his words.

He takes a deep breath, his face pale with fear as he swallows and says quietly,, “Today, when I went down to the shops to get you these flowers, I met the really old man tending to them. Don’t look at me like that, he was really old, alright?”

“Anthony,” you scold quietly, tutting at him as you wrap your hands around his.

He bites the inside of his cheek before he keeps going. “Anyways he isn’t the point— I brought him up because he made me realise that I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I never gave telling you a shot. He lived loving someone else until they died— even after they did, and if… if there was a chance I could have that with you, I wanted to take it. I can’t promise you that I’ll be alive for as long as you will be, but I can promise you that I will love you for everyday I live and breathe if you let me.”

“Anthony,” you start, breathlessly. You take his face in your hands and he puts the bouquet down to cover your hands with his. He looks so scared like this, fragile like glass in your hands and pale with nerves.

“I can’t promise you forever,” He says solemnly, “But I can promise you my heart for as long as it beats.”

You take a deep breath through your nose, and will yourself not to kiss him. Years down to minutes— minutes to seconds. The silence hangs like a winding note. You glance back quickly at the bouquet, picking out one of the jasmine flowers before sliding it behind his ear and resting your hands on his face.

“Do you remember the first flower I gave you?” You ask just as quietly. He shakes his head, cheeks rubbing against the skin of your palms. “We were… quite young at the time, and I must have been mad, because I stole it from the neighbour’s garden. Yes, the grumpy one, you remember her. Well, I ran straight over from all the way from home with this crumpled little thing in hand— stop giggling. I’m telling you an important story— and you lit up like a light. Cheeky little thing you were, finding a way to give it back to me when I got scolded the same day for stealing and I was awful sore about the whole thing.”

“You looked all sad,” He cut in, voice hoarse in a mumble, “It made me happy, so I wanted it to make you happy too.”

You laugh, just as breathless, “And it worked, Anthony. It’s still one of my favourite flowers. Did you know that? They were the first flowers I read up on when I learned flowers could have meanings.”

“What’d you find?” He asks, the nerves fading into a hopefulness that fills his eyes with stars. It’s helplessly endearing where you see them shine, nearly nose to nose with how close you’re holding him.

You hum and close your eyes, pushing your forehead against his. “We gave each other white jasmine flowers, that day. A lot of people say they mean purity or innocence, but the one that stuck out to me was that people say it meant “everlasting love” too. When I look back on it now, it must’ve been fate.”

“Cause I always loved you and you probably realised that with how stupid I get about you?”He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close.

You chuckle quietly, just as helplessly lost, “Not quite. I didn’t even think there was a chance you could love me back, though that does make everything a bit easier… because I’ve always loved you, Anthony.”

Like a child on Christmas day, Lockwood’s eyes grow wide; he’s helpless to the grin that splits his face. “Really?”

“I’m no liar, Anthony, and certainly not about this,” you laugh, unable to help yourself as you tip back and rest your nose lightly against his.

“No like— you mean it?” He asks, voice cracking with hope as he searches your face, “You love me? You love me?”

You’re helplessly endeared, helplessly in love and helplessly lost to it, so you just whisper back with a grin as wide, “Yes, Anthony. I love you.”

What little space between you both is gone in a second when he pushes his lips against yours. It’s a desperate thing, all relief and comfort and love pouring out. At some point, you’re both smiling too wide and too much for it to be anything more than just pushing your lips against each other’s and you pull away with a wet laugh.

He grins wider, and you didn’t think it was possible but he manages it. “I’m so glad, because if I had to go back to the shopkeeper with a terrible story about how I got rejected by the love of my life—“

You giggle and swat at his arm, wrapping your arms around him, “Of course that’s what you worry about. This is all a publicity stunt, yeah? To boost your ego.”

“Of course,” he says, with no weight to the words as he sniffs and blinks away the last of his tears, “Though that just means we should make it a bigger stunt and get married. I’ll even invite Kipps just to rub it in his face.”

You hum, helplessly amused, when the door slams open and George shamelessly walks in with at first his usual deadpan, then a pleased expression. From behind George, Lucy is brimming with happiness, smiling cheek to cheek.

“Gross,” George says, simply and without malice. He steps around you and Lockwood, patting you both on the back sincerely and pulling out pots and pans. It occurs to you a little late that he’s starting on supper. “Took you both a while to actually confess. Mental, the two of you.”

“It was cute,” Lucy says kindly, taking you from Lockwood (he does pout lightly, but she just sticks her tongue out at him) hugging you dear. “George just means that we’re both very happy you two finally got together. He was starting to go bald actually from pulling his hair out too much, look at his hairline—“

“You can’t even pretend like you weren’t too, Lucy.” George sends her a glare as she separates from you. Lockwood quickly fills the space at your side again and all but wraps himself around you. Lucy pats him on the back with a congratulatory smile.

“You can’t go bald before my wedding, George, that’d just ruin it,” you say, clicking your tongue as you reach over (not without struggling over Lockwood) and pat his curls into place. The pot nearly slips out of his hands while Lucy’s eyes grow big as saucers.

“Wedding?!?” They ask simultaneously. Lockwood giggles into your neck, the cheeky bastard.

“This one here,” you gesture at Lockwood with a look, “said we should get married since this whole thing is a publicity stunt or whatnot. Said he might even invite that Kipps bloke he hates.”

“That is the lamest proposal I have ever heard,” Lucy immediately cuts in, the most disappointed scowl pointed at Lockwood’s head.

“I’ve got to agree. You could absolutely do better than that, Lockwood. Also, Quill Kipps? Do you want to have start a fight at your wedding?” George asks, his back turned to everyone. You pull away from Lockwood to pick up the flowers, but not without him frowning as you do. He stops frowning as soon as you smile at him, though, before he turns his attention to Lucy and George when they both pretend to gag.

“I gave them flowers, a really sentimental bunch I think, then I had a good speech,” He says to Lucy first, who raises a brow at him.

He turns to George next. “I need to rub it in his face that he’s probably miserable and forever alone.”

“I thought it was gonna be a publicity stunt, not a revenge plot,” You mutter, clicking your tongue.

“I’m not letting you have a lame wedding, Lockwood, because that means they—“ she points to you “— will have a lame wedding and I will not let that happen.”

“But you’d let me have a lame wedding if it was just mine?” His face is scrunched in offence as he ‘discreetly’ wraps himself around you again.

“Yes,” Lucy and George say simultaneously.

“I’d marry you at a lame wedding.” You play with his hair where you can reach it, pressing a kiss to his forehead where he’s dumped it again on your shoulder. Lucy and George gag, Lockwood beams so bright you’d think he won the lottery that night.

They manage to convince you that it’s too dark out to leave (it was past curfew, the sun had set already) so you spend the night recounting everything you can with them until the stars had gone to sleep and the sun started rising.

The next day, he brings down the bouquet of carnations you’d first given him, and you mix both the bouquets into one. A year later, Portland Row becomes home to not only to the people living in it, but a garden full of flowers blooming with love, laughter, and a lot of hard work. White Jasmine flowers bloom on the veranda and a house of three becomes home to four.

A/N: Finally finished this series!! Whew, that was… hmm!! And just because I couldn’t add it to the story without it getting clunky, have these idk, headcanons? fun facts?:

Reader tells Lockwood all about the flowers after, and informs him about why the Jasmine flowers were so familiar

The grumpy neighbour reader stole the white jasmine flowers from was actually the old man gardener’s wife

Lockwood goes back to tell the old man, and they have a laugh about the whole thing

It is so hard to get one straight meaning for a flower, but if you dig enough you can find flowers that mean so many cute things:

Red carnations mean deep love and affection

Pink tulips mean caring and affection

White Jasmine flowers can mean many things but for this story I went with: Eternal love, persevering love, and new beginnings

Everyone knows red roses, but I also like to think Lockwood’s bouquet had thornless red roses because they mean love at first sight

Yes he one upped the reader even without knowing what all the flowers mean because he’s a competitive little freak (affectionate) and I love him

This series has been very dear to me, and I am especially thankful to @tangledinlove <3 Thank you for your kind reblogs, I hope you know I read them and always look forward to seeing how you find each part in the series even if I don’t respond to them <33333

Also @milesmorals asked me to tag her too!!

#portie writes fanfic #anthony lockwood x you #anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood x reader #lockwood x you

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