#i know this can be an adolescence thing and with careful support he could come out of it

[theadventurek9]

Oh buddy boy

I've had a lot of talks with various people about Ryker's current state with his ability to learn and focus during his current teenagehood.

His drive to work has plummeted. Anything that's not tug or chase type play he doesn't really want to do it. I chose the bad path of trying to keep working on things, working on trying to keep things easy and fun but it still has stressed him out.

Food refusal is becoming more common, signs of stress with any training scenario, and overall harm to our relationship. What I thought was slow moving with training isn't slow enough for him. I've been taking things so much slower with him than I did Aayla. Yet it hasn't been enough. I think I've been getting more frustrated with him and while I try and not let that affect my training, I know it does. He is so very sensitive.

So we are going to be taking a break from anything beyond the essentials of continuing LLW, ability to disengage from dogs, and husbandry needs. He has been thoroughly enjoying our agility class so we will keep doing that but that is it. No more obedience for now, no more tricks or anything like that. Just structured play, maintaining good dog skills and letting him mentally mature a bit more.

I need to focus on Aayla for nationals and need to reset myself anyways. I need to get a better relationship with Ryker and let go of my dreams and goals for right now. Maybe he won't be a great sport dog and that will be okay. He is a great family member and gets along so well with everyone.

[loveanton]

everything i didn’t say | eunseok + sungchan

⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: you’ve always been a constant in jung sungchan’s life, he never once imagined a world where you weren’t in his life and often took you for granted. never once realizing just how much you loved him until it was too late.

❥ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: sungchan x f!reader x eunseok

❥ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: friends to almost lovers!au

❥ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 4.5k

⟶ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: heartbreak, sungchan is a meanie and says hurtful things.

⏤ 𝑎/n: was listening to old 5sos and inspiration struck

You've always been in love with Sungchan. From the very first moment you met him in the school courtyard, when he handed you that crumpled homework sheet with a shy smile, you knew he was different. As the years passed, that initial spark only grew stronger, turning into a fierce flame that consumed you every time you saw him. It’s funny, really, how someone can become your entire world without them even realizing it. Every laugh you shared, every secret you whispered, every moment you spent together, it was like living in a dream. But dreams are fragile, and reality has a way of waking you up abruptly.

Sungchan was always a constant in your life, a steady presence that you could always count on. He never once imagined a world where you weren’t there, by his side, supporting him through thick and thin. You think he took it for granted, your unwavering loyalty and affection. Not that you ever blamed him. It’s easy to overlook what’s always there, right in front of you.

You both grew up together, navigating the tumultuous years of adolescence, laughing through your awkward phases, and holding each other up through heartbreaks and disappointments. Sungchan had a magnetic personality; he was charming, kind, and effortlessly popular. People were drawn to him, and he thrived on the attention, though he remained humble and grounded. You, on the other hand, were content to remain in the background, his ever-present shadow, silently cheering him on.

There were moments when you thought he might feel the same way, fleeting glances and lingering touches that set your heart racing. But they were always followed by casual comments about other girls, reminders that you were firmly placed in the friend zone. Still, you held onto hope, convinced that one day he would see you, truly see you, for who you were and how deeply you cared for him.

You wonder when that day will come.

“Sungchan, I really don’t want to go to this party,” you say, trying to keep the whine out of your voice as you hug a cushion to your chest. “I’d rather just stay home and watch anime.”

Sungchan pouts, leaning against your bedroom door. “Come on, it’s going to be fun! Everyone’s going to be there, and I don’t want to go without you.”

Eunseok, Sungchan’s roommate and your mutual friend, looks up from his phone with a smirk. “Dude, if she doesn’t want to go, don’t hound her. Let her have her anime night in peace.”

Sungchan shoots Eunseok a pleading look. “Eunseok, help me out here. You know how boring it’ll be without her.”

Eunseok shrugs, leaning back against the wall. “Why don’t you just go by yourself for once? You don’t need to drag her to every single party, man.”

You smile gratefully at Eunseok, appreciating his attempt to take the pressure off. “Thanks, Eunseok. Besides, you know I’m not really a party person.”

Sungchan sighs dramatically, running a hand through his hair. “Please? Just this one last time? I promise I won’t bug you about parties anymore if you come tonight.”

You glance at Eunseok, who raises an eyebrow and grins. “Fine,” you say, giving in. “But only if Eunseok goes too.”

Eunseok chuckles. “Alright, I guess I can sacrifice my night to keep you two company.”

Sungchan’s face lights up, and he pumps his fist in the air. “Yes! It’s going to be awesome, I promise!”

Later that night, the three of you meet up and head to the party together. As soon as you walk through the door, the noise and energy hit you like a wave. Sungchan, in his element, quickly spots some friends and ditches you and Eunseok without a second thought.

You expected this. Taking a deep breath, you turn to Eunseok. “Guess it’s just you and me, then.”

He nods, giving you a sympathetic smile. “Let’s find a quieter spot, yeah?”

You both navigate through the crowd, eventually finding a relatively peaceful corner where the music is a little less deafening. You sit down on a couch, and Eunseok joins you, leaning back and looking around with mild interest.

“So, what’s the deal with you and Sungchan?” he asks after a moment. “You’ve been friends forever, right?”

“Yeah, since middle school,” you reply, feeling a familiar pang in your chest. “He’s always been there for me.”

Eunseok nods, studying your face. “And you’re always there for him.”

You sigh, picking at a loose thread on the couch. “I guess.”

Eunseok’s eyes soften. “You like him, don’t you?”

Your heart skips a beat, and you glance at him, startled. “Is it that obvious?”

He shrugs, giving you a small, knowing smile. “I’m observant. And it’s not just me. Everyone who’s close to you can see it.”

You feel a flush creeping up your neck. “I’ve tried to keep it a secret.”

Eunseok shakes his head. “You’re not fooling anyone. And honestly, I don’t think Sungchan is as clueless as he pretends to be.”

You stiffen, your eyes narrowing. “What do you mean?”

Before Eunseok can answer, you spot Sungchan across the room, laughing with Yuri, the popular tennis captain. Your heart sinks as you watch them together, the easy way they interact, the chemistry that’s undeniable.

She’s beautiful, confident, and completely captivated by Sungchan. The way she looks at him, with an intensity that mirrors your own hidden feelings, sends a pang of jealousy through your chest. You try to shake it off, to remind yourself that Sungchan and you are just friends, that you have no claim over him. But it hurts, more than you want to admit.

Eunseok follows your gaze and sighs. “Why do you let him do this to you?”

You tear your eyes away from Sungchan and look at Eunseok, confused. “Do what?”

“Play with your feelings like this,” he says softly. “It’s like he knows exactly how you feel and he’s just stringing you along.”

You shake your head, feeling a surge of anger. “No, Sungchan isn’t like that. He’s not cruel.”

Eunseok holds up his hands in a placating gesture. “He brought you to a party knowing you hate them just to abandon you. You deserve better.”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, and you blink them away, not wanting to cry in front of Eunseok. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just being stupid.”

“You’re not stupid,” Eunseok says firmly. “You have a big heart, and you care deeply. That’s not a bad thing. But you also need to take care of yourself.”

You look down, feeling a mixture of emotions swirling inside you. “I just...I keep hoping that he’ll see me. Really see me.”

Eunseok leans closer, his voice gentle. “And what if he never does? Are you going to keep waiting forever?”

You bite your lip, unable to answer. The thought of giving up on Sungchan is too painful to contemplate.

Eunseok sighs, placing a hand on yours. “You’re a wonderful person. Anyone would be lucky to have you in their life. Don’t waste your time on someone who doesn’t appreciate that.”

You look up at him, grateful for his words even though they sting. “Thanks, Eunseok. I needed to hear that.”

He smiles, squeezing your shoulder reassuringly. “Anytime.”

The rest of the night passes in a blur. You stick close to Eunseok, finding comfort in his presence. He’s a good listener, and you find yourself opening up to him more than you expected. He shares stories about his own life, his ambitions, and his struggles, and you realize how little you actually knew about him before tonight.

As the night wears on, you watch Sungchan and Yuri grow closer, their conversation becoming more intimate, their touches more frequent. You felt like an outsider, a silent observer to the budding romance that was unfolding before your eyes. You knew then that you were losing him, that the dream you had cherished for so long was slipping away.

As the party winds down, you and Eunseok decide to leave. Sungchan is nowhere to be found, still presumably with Yuri. You walk back to your apartment with Eunseok, the cool night air helping to clear your mind.

When you reach your door, Eunseok turns to you with a serious expression. “Remember what I said. You deserve to be happy.”

You nod, feeling a warmth in your chest that wasn’t there before. “I will. Thanks, Eunseok.”

He smiles and gives you a small wave before heading to his own apartment. You watch him go, a sense of calm settling over you.

The next morning, you wake up to a series of text messages lighting up your phone. Blinking away the sleep, you scroll through the notifications. Eunseok’s message catches your eye first.

[eunseok]: Hey, just checking in. How are you feeling this morning?

A soft smile tugs at your lips, warmth spreading through your chest at his concern. You scroll down to find another message from Sungchan.

[sungchanie]: last night was wild! i think i met the love of my life lol.”

Your heart sinks. You feel a sharp pang of jealousy and sadness. Taking a deep breath, you compose yourself and respond to Sungchan’s message with a simple thumbs-up emoji. You then turn back to Eunseok’s message, grateful for his support.

[you]: morning eunseok. just found out that sungchan thinks yuri is the love of his life lol :p

His reply is almost immediate.

[eunseok]: I’m sorry to hear that. Would you like me to come over? I have ice cream and a Netflix subscription.

You giggle despite yourself, feeling a bit lighter.

[you]: yes please! cookie dough ice cream?

[eunseok]: You got it. Be there soon.

A short while later, there’s a knock on your door. You open it to find Eunseok standing there with a tub of cookie dough ice cream, two spoons and a warm smile.

“Hey,” he says softly, stepping inside. He doesn’t ask any questions, just pulls you into a hug and leads you to the couch.

“Hey,” you reply, feeling a little better already.

You both settle in, the ice cream tub between you. As the first romcom starts playing, you can’t help but feel grateful for Eunseok’s presence. He makes you laugh at all the right moments, and the pain of seeing Sungchan with Yuri begins to fade into the background.

By the time you’re halfway through the second movie, you find yourself cuddled up against Eunseok, his arm draped over your shoulders. The warmth and comfort you feel with him are undeniable, and for the first time in a long while, you feel a sense of peace.

However a series of knocks on the door soon interrupts your tranquility. Sighing, you disentangle yourself from Eunseok and head to answer it. Standing there is Sungchan, his usual bright smile on his face.

“Hey! You won’t believe how amazing Yuri is,” he starts, letting himself in. His excitement is palpable, but it quickly dims when he spots Eunseok on the couch, occupying what has always been his unspoken spot.

“What’s he doing here?” Sungchan asks, his eyes narrowing slightly.

Eunseok looks up casually. “Hanging out with ____”

You take a deep breath, summoning the strength you’ve been cultivating over the past few hours. “Sungchan, we’re busy right now. Can you come back later?”

Sungchan looks taken aback, surprise flickering across his face. He glances between you and Eunseok before nodding slowly. “Uh, sure. I’ll catch you later then.”

You watch him leave, closing the door gently behind him. Turning back to Eunseok, you feel a strange mixture of relief and anxiety.

“I’m proud of you,” Eunseok says softly, pulling you back into his arms. “I know that probably wasn’t easy.”

You blush, shrugging lightly. “It’s... getting easier.”

The next few weeks follow a similar pattern. You and Eunseok spend more time together, finding comfort in each other’s company. You gradually start to distance yourself from Sungchan, realizing that holding onto the hope of him seeing you differently only brings more pain.

Sometimes, the days that follow are a blur of pain and numbness. Sungchan calls and texts you, mostly about Yuri and you can’t bring yourself to respond. You need space, time to come to terms with the reality that he has found someone else, someone who isn’t you. You tell yourself that you should be happy for him, that his happiness is all that matters, but it’s a bitter pill to swallow.

One evening, as you're sitting in your room, trying to focus on studying, your phone lights up with a text message. It’s from Sungchan.

[sungchanie]: did i do something wrong?

Your heart sinks at the message. Despite everything, you still care deeply about him, and the thought of hurting him hurts you too. You stare at the screen, unsure of how to respond.

A few minutes later, another message comes through.

[sungchanie]: i hate the silent treatment y/n :(

You take a deep breath, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. As much as you don’t want to feel anything for him anymore, you can’t deny the rush of emotions that flood your chest.

[you]: “hey sungchan. you haven’t done anything wrong,,,just been swamped with classes and needed some time to myself

Almost immediately, your phone buzzes with another message from him.

[sungchanie]: can i come over? i miss hanging out with you

You hesitate for a moment, chewing on your bottom lip. Despite everything, you find yourself typing back.

[you]: sure

Not long after, there’s a knock on your door. You take a deep breath and open it to find Sungchan standing there with a sheepish smile.

“Hey,” he says softly, stepping inside. “I’ve missed you.”

You manage a small smile. “I’ve missed you too.”

He glances around your room. “Where’s Eunseok? I’m surprised he’s not attached to your hip.”

You chuckle nervously, feeling a pang of guilt. “He’s at a study group.”

Sungchan nods, taking a seat on your bed. “So, about Yuri...”

Your heart sinks, but you swallow the lump in your throat and force a smile. “Yeah, tell me about her.”

Sungchan launches into how he and Yuri have been on a few dates, how he thinks he’s going to ask her out officially soon. You listen, nodding along and trying to push down the ache in your chest.

“That’s great, Sungchan,” you manage to say, forcing cheerfulness into your tone. “I’m really happy for you.”

Just then, your phone buzzes with a text message from Eunseok.

[eunseok]: Hey! Would you like to join me and some friends for a game night tonight?

You smile at the invitation and text back quickly.

[you]: sure! i’ll be there ^-^

Sungchan glances at your phone curiously. “Who’s that?”

You hesitate, then decide to be honest. “It’s Eunseok. He invited me to join him for a game night with his friends.”

Sungchan’s expression shifts slightly, a flicker of jealousy crossing his face. “Oh. Are you guys... dating?”

Your heart skips a beat at the question, and you falter for a moment. “Um, no, we’re just friends.”

But Sungchan doesn’t seem satisfied with your answer. His brows furrow, and he leans forward, his voice tinged with frustration. “It’s just... you two seem really close. It almost feels like he’s replacing me.”

You feel a surge of frustration and hurt. “Sungchan, he’s just being a good friend. No one could ever replace you.”

He shakes his head, his frustration boiling over. “Do you even realize what you’re doing? You’re letting Eunseok get in between us!”

Your eyes widen in shock. “What are you talking about? There’s nothing going on between me and Eunseok. He’s just my friend.”

Sungchan stands up, his voice rising. “I’ve known you for so long, and now suddenly Eunseok is always around. It’s like I don’t even matter anymore!”

You stand up too, your own anger bubbling. “That’s not fair, Sungchan! You’ve been spending all your time with Yuri, and I needed someone to talk to. Eunseok has been there for me when you weren’t.”

He scoffs, shaking his head. “You don’t get it, do you? You’ve replaced me with him. Every time I turn around, he’s there. And it feels like you don’t even care.”

Tears prick at your eyes as you try to defend yourself. “I do care! But you’re the one who’s been distant. You’re the one who found someone else.”

Sungchan’s eyes flash with hurt and anger. “Maybe I did, but that doesn’t mean you had to replace me so easily.”

You shake your head, feeling the weight of his words. “You’re being unfair, Sungchan. Eunseok is just a good friend. You’re the one who’s been pushing me away.”

His face hardens, and he takes a step back. “Maybe I needed to, because it hurts too much to see you with him.”

You’re stunned into silence, the weight of his confession hanging in the air. Before you can say anything, he turns on his heel and storms out of your room, slamming the door behind him.

You collapse onto your bed, tears streaming down your face. The argument replays in your mind, each word cutting deeper than the last. You can’t shake the feeling of loss and confusion, wondering how things went so wrong.

Despite your pain, you decide to suck it up and go to the game night. You text Eunseok, letting him know you’re on your way. When you arrive, his friends greet you warmly, their cheerful banter and infectious energy immediately starting to lift your spirits.

Eunseok’s friends, Beomgyu, Anton, Karina, Yujin and Jake, quickly draw you into their circle. They’re a lively bunch, and it’s impossible not to be swept up in their enthusiasm.

“Alright, who’s ready for a game of spoons?” Beomgyu announces, waggling his eyebrows mischievously.

“You’re not planning to cheat again, are you, Beomgyu?” Yujin teases, raising an eyebrow.

He gasps dramatically. “Me? Cheat? Never!” But there’s a twinkle in his eye that suggests otherwise.

Anton and Jake’s dynamic is particularly amusing. Anton is calm and methodical, while Jake is a bundle of energy, constantly in motion. They bicker and banter like an old married couple, which keeps you entertained and helps take your mind off Sungchan.

As the game progresses, you can’t help but notice Beomgyu’s suspiciously fast reflexes. Every time a spoon is up for grabs, he somehow always manages to snatch it first.

“I’m onto you, Beomgyu,” you say with a mock-serious tone after he wins yet another round. “You’re definitely cheating.”

He laughs, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I’m just that good, I swear!”

Eunseok, sitting next to you, chuckles. “Don’t let him fool you, ____. Beomgyu’s a known cheater.”

You laugh along, feeling more relaxed than you have all evening but Eunseok’s keen eyes don’t miss the occasional flickers of sadness that cross your face. After you both lose a particularly intense round of spoons, he stands up and offers you a hand.

“Help me with snacks in the kitchen?” he asks gently.

You nod and follow him, grateful for the brief escape. In the kitchen, Eunseok begins prepping more snacks, occasionally feeding you bits of fruit or cheese.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly, his concern evident.

You sigh, leaning against the counter. “Sungchan and I got into an argument before I came over.”

Eunseok pauses, looking at you intently. “What was it about?”

You hesitate, then spill the details about Sungchan feeling replaced by Eunseok and how hurt and jealous he seemed. Eunseok’s expression darkens.

“He said that it hurt too much to see us together.”

“That’s manipulative,” he says bluntly.

You shake your head, feeling a rush of defensiveness. “He’s just hurt, Eunseok.”

“He knows what he’s doing, ____,” Eunseok counters. “Why would he say that it hurts to see us together if he doesn’t have feelings for you? He’s just stringing you along.”

You don’t know what to say, the truth of his words sinking in but conflicting with your loyalty to Sungchan. The emotions swirling inside you become too much to handle.

“I think I should go home,” you finally say, your voice small.

Eunseok’s face falls. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin your night.”

“It’s not you,” you reassure him, managing a weak smile. “It’s just hitting me how messed up this situation is.”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Let me walk you home.”

You shake your head. “No, you should stay with your friends. I’ll be fine.”

Reluctantly, Eunseok nods. “Alright, but text me when you get home, okay?”

“I will,” you promise.

As you make your way home, your mind races with thoughts of the evening’s events. You replay Eunseok’s words over and over, feeling a mixture of frustration, sadness, and an unexpected hint of clarity.

When you finally arrive home, you text Eunseok as promised.

[you]: i’m home. thanks for tonight

[eunseok]: Anytime. I'm here if you need to talk.

You appreciate his unwavering support but feel a heavy weight pressing on your chest. You sit on your bed, staring at your phone, wondering how you ended up in this tangled web of emotions.

The next week is a blur of classes and studying. You try to avoid thinking about Sungchan and focus on your schoolwork, but it’s a losing battle. His absence is a constant ache, a reminder of the distance growing between you.

Tonight, you find yourself standing in front of his apartment, your heart pounding in your chest. You don’t know what you hope to achieve, but you know you can’t keep pretending that everything is okay. You need closure, one way or another.

Before you can even knock, the door swings open and Sungchan stands there, surprise flashing across his face when he sees you. “____, what are you doing here?”

“I wanted to talk,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady.

Just then, Yuri pops out from behind Sungchan, wrapping her arms around his waist and planting a kiss on his lips. Your heart clenches as you watch them, but you force yourself to stay composed.

After a moment, Yuri finally pulls away. “I’ll see you later, Sungchan,” she says, giving him one last peck and you a smug grin before leaving.

Once she’s gone, Sungchan lets you in, making a snarky comment as he closes the door. “Where’s Eunseok? I thought he’d be glued to your side.”

You stay calm and reply, “I didn’t come to fight with you, Sungchan. I just want to clear the air.”

He nods, crossing his arms. “So, are you ready to apologize?”

You’re taken aback. “Apologize for what?”

“For being a bad friend recently,” he says, standing his ground.

Anger rises within you. “No, Sungchan. You’ve been a bad friend. You blew me off at the party after begging me to go. Then here comes Yuri, and now you’re completely pussy whipped.”

He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous of Yuri. I thought you’d be over your little high school crush by now.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. “What?”

Sungchan stares at you blankly and you feel anger coursing through your veins as you realize he’s known all this time. He knew just how much you love and care for him and he took it selfishly, knowing just what to say to keep you by his side. He only ever gave you just enough to string you along and give you false hope. Eunseok was right.

“How could you be so... so cruel? All this time you knew I liked you but led me on and kept me around for your own satisfaction. How could you do that? We’re supposed to be best friends.”

“Exactly,” he snaps back. “Best friends. So stop thinking we’ll ever be more. It weirds me out.”

The argument escalates, voices rising with each exchange.

“You knew,” you say, tears welling up in your eyes. “You knew how I felt and you still... How could you do that?”

“I didn’t have feelings for you then, and I still don’t now,” Sungchan retorts, his face twisted in anger. “You need to move on.”

“How could you be so heartless?” you cry out, the pain evident in your voice. “You used me. You knew how much I cared and you used me.”

Sungchan’s expression softens for a moment, guilt flickering in his eyes, but it quickly hardens again. “I didn’t use you. I thought you were over it. I thought we were just friends.”

You shake your head, tears streaming down your face. “Go screw yourself, Sungchan.”

You turn towards the door, ready to leave, but before you can open it, Eunseok lets himself in. He sees your tears and Sungchan’s guilty expression, his own face hardening with anger.

“What the hell is going on here?” Eunseok demands, glaring at Sungchan before turning his attention to you. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

He grabs your hand and leads you away, his grip firm but gentle. You don’t resist, too overwhelmed by the confrontation to do anything but follow him. He takes you to a nearby boba shop and finds a quiet corner for the two of you. After placing your orders, he brings your drink and sits beside you, offering silent support.

For a while, you both sip your drinks in silence. Then, Eunseok starts talking about his economics midterm, detailing how tough it was and how he’s sure he failed. You appreciate his attempt to distract you and let him continue, feeling a small sense of normalcy returning.

Once he’s done venting about his exam, you take a deep breath and softly say, “Thank you.”

He smiles gently. “You never have to thank me. I’m here for you, always.”

He looks at you with gentle concern. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You play with the straw of your drink, gathering your thoughts. “We had a huge fight. Sungchan said some really hurtful things… things I didn’t expect him to say.”

Eunseok’s face darkens. “What did he say?”

You recount the argument, detailing how Sungchan accused you of being a bad friend and dismissed your feelings as a mere high school crush. By the time you’re done, Eunseok is seething with anger on your behalf.

“He’s an immature prick,” he snaps, his eyes flashing with anger. “How could he say those things to you? After everything you’ve done for him?”

“I don’t know,” you whisper, tears welling up again. “I thought he was my best friend.”

Eunseok takes your hand in his, squeezing it reassuringly. “You deserve so much better, ____. Don’t let him make you feel like you’re in the wrong. You’ve been an amazing friend to him, and he doesn’t appreciate it.”

His words are like a balm to your wounded heart, and you manage a small smile. “Thank you, Eunseok. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He smiles back, his anger slowly dissipating. “You’ll never have to find out. I’m here for you, always.”

The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a while, sipping your drinks and finding solace in each other’s presence.

[websterss]

NOBODY BUT YOU — GUILDFORD DUDLEY

REQUESTS: hi! can I request a Guildford x reader where they’re kind of in the same situation as him and Jane, but they’re childhood friends who never knew their parents planned an arranged marriage for them? reader knows he’s ethian and is fully supportive. maybe some angst as they come to terms with the news and then their new marriage, then they slowly realize that maybe they’ve loved each other all along and lots of fluff ensues? please and thank you!💗

WARNING(S): angst, fluff

WORD COUNT: 7,491

PAIRING: Guildford Dudley x fem!Reader

A/N: I hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcome and appreciated.

MASTERLIST

Guildford's and your parents had taken one look at you from the earlier stages of your adolescence and thought to themselves how perfect a match their children were for each other. The pair of you was almost too difficult to ignore since your similarities defined how well you fit together.

Your stubborn natures and wit could only be matched to the extent that you found each other tolerable. That and you both were born under the same full moon. Your mother's ensuring it.

That was why, as you grew up together, they found your bickering more entertaining than annoying. You always sought the other one out if you were hurt or needed someone to talk to.

Guildford’s parents could recall the first time you had run to their home, crying.

You, a tiny thing of eight, had fallen and hurt yourself. Guildford who was also eight at the time had taken one look at you and rushed forward when the garden gate swung open.

You had fallen off the swing at the back of your house. You bellowed in tears, your knee scraped open in the process of your fall. Guildford, who had been practicing with wooden swords in the garden with Stan, dropped them instantly when you came running towards him, and he was instantly by your side, soothing and caring for you. He was tender and gentle as he cleaned the wound and held you in his arms.

"Do you think I'll need to saw it off?" You whimpered.

Guildford felt his heart clench.

“No, it isn't that bad, honest.” He reassured. “But you need to be a lot more careful, I told you we would fix the swing, but you do not listen.”

"I just wanted to soar…"

He smiled gently before continuing to apply ointment to your wound. "You do realize you are a bird? You're able to soar all on your own without the use of a broken swing set."

"Where's the fun in that?" You hiss as he helps you put a cloth over your scrap.

"You're going to get yourself hurt more seriously one day," he muttered with a heavy, dramatic sigh. "You cannot keep doing this and expect me to always be here to pick you up."

"I thought that was the very reason our mothers ensured we were born on the same night. Insistent and prudent for our friendship to flourish."

He glanced up at you, almost shyly, before he looked away again. "Yes, well…" His silence confirmed that you were right. That was exactly what both your mothers had intended. "You still can't use a broken swing set." He continued firmly.

"You have no right to make me." You stick your tongue out at him.

He scoffs, his lip curling in irritation, but also a little bit of amusement. "And yet I've just done it."

"Yes well, you're a horse!" You taunt.

"And you are going to make me throw something at you." He replies threateningly, raising his hand which still has some of the ointment on it. You both know he'll never do it, but you still take a step back, pretending to be intimidated.

It's not till you recreate a whinny of his Ethian form that you're limping off towards the gate that divides your family's lands, or in simpler terms your very backyards.

Guildford's eyes widened as he got up to go after you. He shoves away the rag and pot of ointment carelessly then chases after you. He hates it when you copy the sound of his horse. "Get back here," he demands, though he continues in a calmer tone, "Why must you always do this? You are nowhere near as close sounding to it."

"Cause you hate it!" You huff, calling over your shoulder as you avoid bumping into a rose bush.

"Only because you insist that I sound like a dying horse!" He grabs one of your arms to stop you in your tracks, his fingers wrapping firmly, yet gently around it. With a sharp tug, you were once again facing him. "It is very rude!"

"Oh grow up!"

He lets out a scoff. "Says the pigeon."

You gasp out of his grasp. "I. Am a dove!"

"Do you know the difference between you and a dove?" He asks with a mocking smirk. "I'll make it easy, you're competence." He busted out laughing when you tried for him, swinging your arm in hopes of hitting him in the shoulder.

Though as you swung again, Guildford decided to dodge your weave and watched as you stumbled over your feet into a fall. You yelped as you went tumbling down onto the grass. Guildford reached out last second and fell with you. His hands cradle the back of your head cushioning it. Your eyes widen as he emits a cry of pain himself.

Guildford was breathing heavily as you were now underneath him with his body pressing flat on top of yours, his arms now bracketing either side of your head. He blinked down at you for a second, seemingly unaware of the position you were now in or the fact that the air was suddenly difficult to breathe.

"Guildford your hand…" Your head caught the scrape along his knuckles. The sight of red as you holding your breath. You reached behind your head trying to fight the answer to his injury, and then turned your head to find a medium-sized rock lying where your head would have landed.

He looked down at his hand and the shallow wound that was bleeding, then back to the rock. He felt a pang of guilt when he realized what could have just happened to you. "Are you okay?" He asked softly, his hand coming up instinctively to brush the hair away from your face.

"Yes, but your hand-" You sat up to reach for his wrist, but he pulled away. Going to inspect the back of your head first.

He ignored the sharp stinging sensation and moved you so you were facing away from him. He lifted your hair up, his fingers gently prodding and searching but coming up empty-handed.

"Guildford you're bleeding." You reached back and brought his hand out to face you. "Hey, I'm quite alright." You reassured.

He was almost too focused on you to realize how injured he was, but now he could see the scrapes on his knuckles. They weren't deep at all, but the scrapes had ripped open the skin and the blood was smeared over the back of his hand. He hissed as you inspected his hand further. "I'm fine, it's nothing."

"Guildford, I'm alright." You stop his inner turmoil. cupping the sides of his face now.

He stopped fidgeting and allowed you to hold his head in a firm grip, forcing him to still. He looked at you with wide eyes and he slowly realized how close you were. The way your bodies were pressed against each other. "You almost hit your head."

"But you made sure that I did not."

He continued to gaze at you as he felt the lightness of your breath against his face. The way you were now cradling his face in your hands. He felt something in his chest tighten. He never wanted to picture what could have happened if he did not catch you in time.

His eyes flicked to your lips and the way you were looking at him. "If I was a second too late-"

"No stop it. No more belittling yourself. You saved me from severe injuries and I am forever grateful. Come on now. We need to dress your wounds. The faster we heal the faster we can transform again. Well one of us willingly that is..." You grimace and you pull him up by his good hand.

"How do you manage to always make light of things." He scoffs.

"There is no need to dwell on the horrible 'what ifs', Guildford." You respond with a scoff of your own. "Now come on. Let's clean you up."

-

As you both had reached the prime age of thirteen, well the secret of being Ethian only became a greater priority to ensure remained unknown to strangers. Your marriage to each other was a close second to your parents. Wanting to surprise both of you when the time comes.

It would become a great scandal among the courts in London if word got out that two young members of two noble class families turned out to be part animals. It ruins the chance of one’s positive introduction into upper society.

Luckily for both you and Guildford, you had both managed to keep a relatively low profile. You both had taken extra precautions to keep yourselves from being seen 'transforming', but there were always those close calls.

To name one specifically. Guildford had completely forgotten that you would visit him during one night while a cousin of his was visiting. He practically jumped out of his seat in his room where he heard the familiar chirps and coos. A white, feathered, bird, perched on the edge of his very open window. He damn near screamed when his cousins approached you with curiosity and mischief written over his face.

You, of course, were unaware. At the time, you found this all comical - as you were prone to do - while your bird self preened yourself on the window sill. You were completely at ease. Until of course, you found yourself suddenly gripped in the hands of Guildford's relative.

Guildford's heart plummeted at the call for help you emitted.

"My mother was always quite taken by doves. My father on the other hand never quite saw the fascination, cousin." Cousin Jeffrey admitted. "Let us throw it out the window!"

You were flapping your wings desperately to try and get away. Guildford's heart pounded in his ears. "Stop, Jeffrey!" But cousin Jeffrey paid no mind to him. He was already heading towards the open window and was a little too close for Guildford's comfort.

He had to think of something fast. "Cousin, how about we tie it down with a rock, that way it plummets faster. I believe Bertie knows where we might keep the thread, and there are perfectly good rocks in the garden. You hand he-it over to me as you hurry along."

Cousin Jeffrey paused his movements, his eyes lighting up like he had just discovered a gold mine. "Oh yes! Brillant Cousin!" He shoved you into Guildford's hands, and your struggle stopped at the rough treatment of the transfer. "You hold it firmly, I'll be back shortly." He then slipped out of the door, yelling out for Bertie.

Guildford moved with haste to shut and lock his door. His eyes shut in relief from the close call of his cousin tormenting you. He then hurried to set you on his bed and waited.

Your bird self was still very shaken up from what had just happened. Your wings beat wildly in the air while you hopped around in a small circle in the middle of the bed. What the hell was going on?

Guildford moved over to the bed and gently placed a hand on your back, your feathers were ruffled in fright. "Shhh. Shhh. It's alright now. You're alright. I have you." He spoke softly.

You shook out your feathers and before he knew it, he was met with the all too familiar black and orange hue. You morphed back into your human form.

He paused to glance at you again, noticing how you sat on the bed, your breathing heavy. Your hair was disheveled and your face was flushed in anger and embarrassment. You looked like you were close to tears.

"I know, I know." His hand went to your back once more. The thought of you in the hands of his idiot cousin made Guildford's blood boil. His hand moved to the back of your head and he pulled you into his chest, his other hand wrapping around you in a firm grip.

"You’re fine. He didn’t hurt you. He will never hurt you. I promise. I would never let you meet such a horrid fate."

"No, no, no." You shiver at the thought of his calloused hands holding your precious feathers.

Your shivering and the look on your face only served to make Guildford all the more angry. He held you tight against his chest and let out a scoff. "I'll make him pay for that, I swear it. But for the sake of your secret and mine. I need you to leave!" He gently hauled you up to your feet. Ushering towards the way you entered.

"Guildford, you cannot be serious!" Your eyes widen as he keeps holding you by your shoulders, ushering you backwards.

"I am very serious," He said urgently as, despite your resistance, he moved you closer to the window. "I care about your well-being, more than you have grown to become accustomed to, and I would go to the ends of the earth if anyone so much as Jeffrey puts their hands on you. So for my sake, I need you to leave. Now!" He kept his tone gentle.

"What will you tell him?" You peer over his shoulder, then meet his softened gaze.

"He needs the help of seven tutors, surely I'll think of something. I'll tell him you flew out my hands." His hands now came to your face, his palms cupping your cheeks and he gently but firmly pushed you towards the open window. "He'll believe it."

"Seven?" You looked at him with an incredulous look.

Even in the seriousness of the moment, Guildford couldn't help but let out a scoff. "Unlike you my darling, he had the pleasure of landing head-first on top of a boulder." He said, giving you a light push. "Go!" He breathes out a laugh.

"Glad it wasn't me." You grimace.

"No, you are much too clever for that, and I'm too stubborn to let you be harmed," He responds dryly while pushing you through the window. "Now go. Quickly."

"I'm going!" You hiss as you turn and give him a thankful grin before you turn and twirl out of his window. Your figuration transforms mid-spin into a dove again. You chirp, bidding yourself a goodbye for the evening. Guildford leans against the frame, his shoulders relaxing seeing you soar back home. He had been lost in thought of your secret almost having been discovered he completely disregarded the knocks at his door.

"Cousin. I have fetched the rope and rock. Let us now sink the filthy pigeon." Guildford rolled his eyes as he heard his door hatch rattle. "Cousin, are you there? It is me, your cousin, Jeffrey. Hello?"

-

When you turned eighteen. Guildford took into account just how much your beauty and coy smile had attracted the attention of men interested in courting you. Much to his amusement. Any given chance someone tried to hand you a bouquet of flowers, he'd stomp on them before your very own eyes. Sending each man, if you could even call them that, running off scared.

Guildford couldn't deny the evitable. He'd grown to fall in love with you. And now it seemed he was running short on time, you were of age and your mother was sure to marry you off to the next lad that came from fortune.

Rupert kept Guildford company as the morning went on. His usual brushing and feeding were cut short by Guildford's disinterest in his grooming activities.

Rupert could feel the tension in Guildford's muscles. His usual steady rhythm was a bit more chaotic than normal in his pulse, but his mood was much more brooding.

He could sense his Lord was struggling with something weighing on his mind, and Rupert could only offer his silent support. "What troubles you, my lord?" Rupert cooed softly, patting his side affectionately. "Surely it can't be our dear Y/n. She'll be here soon to stop by for her visit. You did not hear it from me, but I heard Marge tell Bertie that Y/n will bring you carrots." Rupert leaned in closer to whisper to Guildford. Now reaching forward to caress his mane. A weak huff from him had his groomsmen frowning. "The talk about food always brightens your woes…"

It was unusual for Guildford to not even give a flicker of acknowledgment whenever food was brought up. He usually had at least a hint of a twitch of his ears whenever he was anticipating your visit.

Not today, however.

"Guildford!" Your voice bellows through the open stable door. "You're not gonna believe what I've brought for you." Your chipper mood slowly disperses when your skip comes to a halt. You look to Rupert then at Guildford. He shifts his head to the side, avoiding your approach. "What? What have I done?"

You were met with silence from his end, you glanced over to Rupert to gain some answers but he just shrugs, just as confused as you were.

Guildford refused to look at you, he shifted on his hoves as your steps grew closer. "I brought you carrots." You only met with a huff.

"He knows."

"What do you mean?" You were now at his paddock gate, your hands gripping the wood as you tried once more to meet his gaze, but to no avail. Rupert watched on, completely confused.

"He knows about the carrots, my lady."

"And that has been a problem since when?" You frown, now stepping closer to his stall. Guildford lets out another huff.

"I do not know more than I do, which is that our Lord is restless, and troubled."

"Troubled?" You try and get closer to get a better look at his face, but he's keeping a distance from you. Your frown grew more worrisome. "But why? Has something happened?"

"He is upset, that much was certain, but what, I'm afraid, I cannot answer for. I'm sorry my lady."

"No apologies needed, Rupert. You have done everything you can," You offer the other a small smile. Once he was gone and you were alone, your hands gripped the gate again. "Guildford," You murmur, peering into his stall. "Will you please look at me?"

Another huff is emitted from him.

His stubbornness never failed to infuriate you. "What?" You exclaim, your arms crossing over your chest. "Now you're acting like an overgrown child. I was going to greet you with freshly picked carrots, but they are mine now."

Your threat to withhold the carrots you brought had the desired effect. He turned and looked at you, his eyes flicking from your own to the carrots in your bag. If he were human, he could easily be accused of pouting.

You smirk, seeing the way his eyes were fixed on the bag in your hands. "Ah, so you do want the carrots, hm?" You tease, a hand reaching forward to dangle the bag temptingly.

Guildford lets out a huff, lowering his head, clearly displeased. But you knew that he did want the bag of carrots, you could see it in his eyes. He took a few steps closer to your hand, his hot breath ghosting over your arm.

Your smirk grew wider, watching Guildford's approach, he wanted them. "Ah ah, first we need to talk. Tell me, what are you so upset about?" You lower your voice in a more gentle tone. "We will play the guessing game. A whinny for yes, a huff for no. Simple right?" Your hand moved towards his muzzle and gave it a soft rub. "Now...Is this about me?" You say softly, while he remains still, his nostrils fluttering against your touch. "No?" Huff. "Alright not about me...is it about someone else?"

This time he gave a very quick whinny.

"Is it your parents?" Now you had his attention. He leaned against your chest, his head dropping, forcing your free hand to support his weight so he wouldn't knock you back. He huffed once more. "No? Is it about the men that have come? Surely you're not upset about such a thing." You ask worried, and another whinny confirms that you found the answer.

A huff of a response had given him away. Your shoulders drop from the realization settling in. "You're upset over the men..." You state carefully. You step closer to his stall. "What would grant such a reaction?"

Your hand returns to brushing over his face, this time your knuckles brushing softly through his mane. Guildford doesn't move away from the touch this time but remains silent.

"Is it because of how they look at me?" You try again, observing him. He remained still for a moment, before giving a gentle nod "I can reassure you that their attempts of trying to gain my hand in marriage are not working."

"Our friendship is too important to me to waste on some potential husband…Quite frankly the idea of marriage scares me." You breathe out a laugh.

Guildford had seemed to relax as you continued to pet him. He gave a huff as your hand continued to scratch through his mane and down his neck. His head now lying over your shoulder.

"Scared of marriage, you say?" You raise a brow, amused. "Well, my dear Guildford. I don't want to bore you with the specifications. Surely you have better things that heavily neigh upon you." You try good and well to fight back the smile easing onto your face.

Guildford retreats from your pets.

"Ah, back to pouting I see." You sighed, though you were enjoying how stubborn he was being. He was just like an unruly child, you couldn't help but find it endearing. "And here I was about to give you the carrots I brought for you..." You stick your tongue out at him.

-

When 4 years had passed you both had deemed yourselves in the clear of being stuck in a loveless marriage. You were incredibly mistaken when Guildford had burdened you with the news that he was to be in an arranged marriage. Your deepest fears surpassed your mind, turning into a reality. One you didn't want to succumb to and let your troubling insecurities be known to him.

You were even more burdened to allow him the courtesy to tell him that you too were met with such a fate. Your mother had let you know she had gone ahead to rearrange a marriage with a well-suited lord who she had claimed was the perfect match for you. If your heart hadn't already laid its claim on Guildford, you'd have humored her advances.

Now here you were in the meadow late at night, weighing your woes onto Guildford's shoulders. And his own onto yours.

"She can't do this..." You sniffled into your handkerchief. "Your mother can't do this. What good is a marriage if you've never even met the person who you're going to live out the rest of your life with?"

Guildford held you against his chest, his arms tight around you, feeling your body shudder as you fought to keep your sobs quiet. He was no better, just as much a mess as you were, he was struggling to keep his tears at bay now. His chin rested on your head, and he held you closer. "I know," He whispered against your hair. "Believe me, I've tried to deny my father's wishes. But he's refused to hear my protest. I'll get on my knees for your mother if it needs to be done."

"You can't sway her mind, Guildford. Her mind is set, and when it's set-"

"I'll get down on my knees and plead for it." He repeated firmly, his hold on you still tight. "You think I'll let them take you away from me? I mean, why can't she see that our friendship outweighs a forced courtship with some...some-" He clenched his jaw, refusing to imagine it. You with some old haggard, it made him shiver. "This courtship contradicts everything our mothers had set out for us. We were planned to be born on the same night for goodness sake!"

You sit up and turn to face him. "I-I won't do it."

"Neither would I," He responds resolutely, lifting his head to meet your gaze. Your face was flushed, tears streaming down your cheeks. The sight made his heartache. He reached out to wipe away a tear, his thumb brushing over your cheek. "But you're mother will have my head if I don't ensure your return home."

"T-Then we'll leave. I don't need to go back. Let's run away. Somewhere far, somewhere where our mothers won't force us into an arranged courtship."

His expression softened at your words. The thought of spending countless days and hours away from the constraints of their parents and a wedding, was admittedly, appealing, but Guildford shook his head. His hand now resting on your shoulder, "As much as I would love to run away with you, our parents would spare no cost at searching for us." He said in a low voice. "And I am too selfish to be the reason your bond with your parents is severed."

"Guildford please..." You shake your head at his surrender. Why wasn't he trying harder?

"What do you want me to do, Y/n?" Guildford's voice became more raised, and he now was the one who was pleading with you. He stood to his feet, towering over you. "Do we run away, and let our parents tear the country apart looking for us? For all we know, we could be on the run for months, hell, years even. I am more than willing to run if it means a chance to be by your side, but can you survive that type of life? Always on the move, looking over our shoulders. Never able to settle down. Don't ask that of me. I will not allow you to live such a life." He grabbed your face and turned it towards him so he could see you. Your eyes were watery with tears, and he let out a huff of frustration. "W-we can't just run away. We both know it."

"So you'd rather follow through with the courtships arranged for the both of us then?" You stand up slowly.

"Of course, I don't-" Guildford closed his eyes shut, taking in a deep breath. He was struggling to maintain control over his emotions, his hands clenched by his sides. "No, I don't want that for us. Not in the slightest. But we are expected to wed someone. That was always set in stone. You know this. It's what's expected of us. For our families."

Your single nod, clutching at his heart. "So that's it then…"

"It has to be." Despite his resolve, Guildford couldn't bring himself to look at you. He was too afraid, too afraid to see the hurt, the disappointment, the sadness in your eyes. He didn't want to be the one to bring you pain. He was supposed to be the one to make you smile, to make you laugh, and to cause butterflies to form in your stomach. Not this… not this pain. But if he caved into your wishes, then everything your family worked for would be lost on you if you did leave. He couldn't let you surrender to such a life without your family's support and without the potential chance of becoming a wife and mother.

"I wish to go home now, Guildford." You turn and start making your way back to the trail.

"Y/n, wait-" Guildford stumbles after you, grabbing your wrist gently and yanking you towards him, "Stop… p-please." The desperation was evident in his voice, and he didn't let go of your hand, not this time.

"I wish to go home." Your voice held its firm tone. You yank your arm back.

The coldness of your tone caught him off guard, and he faltered. His grip lessened on your wrist, but it was still enough to keep you in place. You could hear Guildford's ragged breaths as if he was fighting back from completely crumbling apart into pieces, and he sounded broken. You knew that he was struggling to remain calm, but you couldn't bring yourself to turn around and comfort him, not when your heart was shattering before him. "I mean well in this, you know it."

"Maybe…Guildford, I will make the walk alone." You warn, gesturing to make your leave again.

"You will do no such thing." He had reached his breaking point, and he was no longer going to stand by and let you walk away. Guildford pulled you back into his chest, his hands grasping to keep you in place, refusing to let you slip from his grip. "I'll make this right."

You shake away from him. "You can't." You pull out of his grip slower this time. Sparing him one last gaze before you began the way back home. Guildford followed behind you a couple of feet. The both of you surrender to the silence of the evening. No words were spoken, no goodbyes even as you pushed through the door of your home and closed it behind you, leaving him to his thoughts.

Standing at your door, Guildford stood frozen, rooted to the spot. He stared at the door for several seconds, his heart going a thousand miles per hour. He was unable to think clearly with the onslaught of emotions going off inside his head. The image of you closing the door behind you, the sound of it shutting him off from you was enough to force Guildford back into motion, and he turned away from your house, his feet carrying him blindly away from you.

-

You continued to pick at your nailbed as the carriage made its final stop at the church. You peer out the window your mind faltering hearing that you had not heard your mother speak to you. It wasn't until she gently laid her hand on top of your fidgeting ones that you were finally able to snap out of your self-deprecating thoughts. Coming up with ways and scenarios that this evening could go wrong in the blink of an eye.

"My dear...won't you look at me." Your mother's eyes were soft with pity, her smile was one of sincere concern, which you hadn't seen for years now. She looked at you like she had done when you were just a little girl, the look that reminded you she was still your mother, one who loved you. The one who held your best interest at heart.

"Mother…"

"Stop biting your nails, dear." She said in a gentle tone of voice, her slender fingers intertwining with yours and pulling your hand away from your mouth. "You'll make them raw if you keep doing that."

"I'll try my best." You give her a faint smile.

"Good." Her other hand reached out and patted the top of your hair, an almost motherly action, and she let out a sigh. Your mother's eyes scanned over your face looking at the worry and nerves that were settled on your expression, and despite her usually harsh persona, she still cared for your well-being. "You look beautiful."

"Truly? You think so." You wring your hands together. Your eyes were full of hope, wondering if you'd believe the words that would escape her.

"I do. My darling girl…you're radiant. I mean it." She continued to pat the top of your hair, gently running a few locks of hair through her fingers, a small, encouraging smile on her face. "You'll make a beautiful bride."

"Thank you mother…"

"I know how worried you are. I was in your situation once, so I understand." Her hand now moved from your hair and rested instead on your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. "But I can see the strength in you. You'll do wonderfully, my darling."

You can only muster a nod in response. Her eyes shine with further concern.

"Yet something more weighs on your mind?"

"I'm scared..."

"It's a guarantee when getting married." She attempts to jest but sighs when you continue to show the crease between your brows.

"When did you and father fall in love after your wedding?"

Her expression softens considerably, and she lets her hand drop back to her side. Your mother's eyes drift ahead, a faraway expression forming as if she was reliving the memories.

"A year after…but it wasn't by choice," She responds, turning back to look at you. You were so similar to her sometimes it was uncanny. "Your father and I grew to love each other, we had no other option. We couldn't deny what was there between us." She looks back at you. "And even then, it wasn't just love- at least not what you or I would think. But we became familiar with each other, and we grew to know the other's traits and habits and what the other loved and disliked. A mutual bond, if you will, my darling girl, it was more of a–" She paused in thought.

"A friendship."

Her small smile slowly returned, and your mother nodded almost knowingly to your statement.

"Yes," she chuckled. "A friendship, first and foremost. It became the foundation for us to build our love further from there."

"I will hope for such love with my husband too…" You look back out through the window of the carriage. You miss your mother's inner turmoil.

"Darling…" She looked back at you, her hands grasping on yours again. "The man you are to marry is of good stock…he is handsome and comes from a respectable family. He will be a good husband to you and will hopefully give you many children when the time comes."

Her expression faltered, taking on a more pained look as if she was trying to come around to saying something else...but she didn't.

You only nod in response. You release a sigh and knock against the window, signaling to the footmen that you are ready to exit and go inside.

With that, the footmen approached and opened the carriage door, helping you to step out carefully onto the pavement and holding out your hand to help you down safely. Your mother soon followed behind you, her skirts brushing against the cobblestone.

Once you arrived at the entrance of the church she turned to you to fix the veil of your dress and pat down any loose hairs that escaped your braid.

"Any last motherly advice?"

She took a breath to collect herself and glanced up at you. She looked at how similar you were to her. Once upon a time, she had the same worries of being a good wife and mother. Your expectant gaze had caused her to lean forward and press a kiss against your temple. "Know your mother has always meant well."

You nod, her words confusing you more than ever as you are handed off to your father, who is waiting patiently to walk you down the aisle.

Your father looked down at you. The emotions he felt were a mixture of pride, nostalgia, and protectiveness. The memories of you growing up flashed through his mind as he looked down at you and his heart ached. You were no longer his little girl, the same little girl he could scoop up in his arms as he walked you through the orchards.

Taking his arm, the both of you began the walk down the aisle.

The eyes of the congregation followed as you walked down the aisle. You found it difficult at first not to look at anyone in particular, but you finally settled your gaze ahead to the front. The closer you get, the more your heart begins to thump in your chest, beating hard and loud, making it difficult to focus. It was now then that your nerves kicked into overdrive, and all you could do was fixate on putting one step in front of the other. You had dared to let your eyes settle on those of your guest in witness. Your sight had accidentally landed on that of Mr. Dudley, and was that Stan? You had looked around frantically in search of one particular Dudley, but when you didn't find him your heart had settled down in its disappointment once more.

Then, you reached the altar and you were handed off to your soon-to-be husband. Your heart rate had skyrocketed at this point. Your mother had been right. He was handsome, but to your amazement, you were already quite aware of his dashing good looks.

He was tall, that you already knew, and held a charming smile. One you memorized by heart since you were children.

Guildford was stunned into silence. His was positive your face mirrored his expression. One of disbelief, in need of an explanation for this cruel jest. Guildford was your betrothed. As you were his. You both had admitted your inner turmoils to each other, both in the dark. Fearing being separated by an arranged courtship. You could only turn to face your families, your mothers each holding a hand to their lips in hopes of muffling their cries of joy.

Had they planned this from the start? Surely yes.

You wouldn’t put it past them.

You kissed your father on the cheek, releasing his arm from your hold. To him. You would have given him an earful for handing you off to a stranger. You did, though had you known you’d be given off to your dearest friend. You would have thanked your father. You gave off that of a fish out of water. Rendered speechless. Lost for words that your heart wanted to say but your mind withheld.

You ascend the two steps to stand before the church, before Guildford. Your eyes are locked with Guildford’s. He too was at a loss for words but his eyes held your own. Not a trace of regret or guilt or sadness. Just pure contentment, content that it was you and no one else. He prayed it wouldn’t have been anyone but you. Your soon-to-be husband took your hand into his and brought it up to his lips, bestowing a kiss upon the back of it. You breathe out a laugh of disbelief as a smile reaches your eyes.

“Hi.” You whispered with contentment.

“Hi.” He whispers back. Smiles etch onto your faces as the officiant begins.

-

To say trying to navigate your newfound marriage to one another wasn’t awkward would have been a lie. You thought the world of Guildford, had seen him through his highs and lows, and vice versa. If someone had told you, you would get to set your eyes on his shirtless back every day, you’d have labeled them a fool, an absolute baboon.

“You're allowed to look, you know. What is mine is yours now.” Guildford glances over his shoulder as you teetered back and forth on your bare feet. You’d been hesitating to enter your shared bedroom. He was in the middle of undressing when your gaze shied away. “And it's not like you haven’t seen anything you’re unfamiliar with.” He pokes his fun. However, when he fully turns to you, his smile fades as he sees your timid nature. “You’re troubled.” It wasn’t a question.

Your gaze was averted to the floor, your fingers fidgeting and your bottom lip having been chewed on in your nervousness. You were now aware that he was looking at you intently, able to no doubt read your feelings and notice your hesitance.

Your eyes shifted, looking up at him for a fraction of a moment before hastily being returned to the floor again, your heart pounding in your chest as you were still unused to the lack of space between you both. “It's not the same anymore.” Your brows furrow as you curl in on yourself. “Before, there was no courtship between us where looking was considered intimate. Now it is.”

He sighs at your words, the frown on his face deepening further. He could sense your trepidation, and seeing you so hesitant and nervous around him made his heart sink. He couldn’t bear to see you this way.

He stepped towards you, his bare feet silently padding across the wooden floorboards. He reached up and gently took your chin in his hand, coaxing your head into lifting to look at him.

“Who says it wasn’t before?” Guildford steps closer. His hand reaches out as you avert away from his stare. “I've looked, foresay, admired, in all honesty.”

“You have?” Your nervous voice replies, your heart now thudding louder in your chest as you were aware of his proximity, now feeling the heat radiating off his bare chest.

"Yes."

“Guildford–“

“If you, my beautiful wife, find yourself staring because you find me irresistible. Look away, and look with no regrets.”

“But mother once said that looking at your husband a certain way will lead to being bedridden. And I will end up with your child.” Guildford gaped at you for a second before he snapped out of it.

“From now on…do not believe a word that woman says.” Guildford blinked. “Not every occurrence or every look will lead to such a thing. Nor is it terrible either.”

"Guildford…did you know about our courtship? Did you know our mothers would do this, without telling us?"

Guildford’s face fell, now noticing your solemn expression. With a great sigh, he ran the hand not holding your chin upwards, and through his hair. His chest and shoulders rose and fell as he breathed out slowly, giving him time to collect himself before answering you.

“…No. If I had I would have never let you walk through that door upset with me.”

"I'm scared, Guildford. We've never charted waters like this before."

His expression softened again when he saw the anguish on your expression. He reached up and placed his hand against your cheek, gently stroking his thumb across your warm skin.

“I know. I am too.” He whispered, his tone of voice was tender, a tone of voice not even his family had ever heard. They were the whispers meant just for you and you alone. His eyes held a certain vulnerability as he met your gaze. "This is quite honestly all new for me as well. I'm terrified of ruining what we have. I almost did."

"Why couldn't they just tell us? It's simple."

“Our mothers are complicated women as you well know. I wouldn’t be surprised if the two of them find entertainment in our frustration. But one thing I know is that their one goal was to keep us together, no matter what. Now we are, and forever will be.”

Guildford then smiled, but it was a smile of sadness rather than anything else. “Our whole lives we’ve feared the day we wouldn't be friends anymore. But now we get to outlive that fear and null its value to us.”

"My mother told me before I had entered the church that she always meant well…"

“Of course, they always mean well, they’re mothers.” Guildford lets out a small chuckle, his hand now sliding from your jaw down your neck and over your shoulder and gently massaging it to calm you.

“My mother told me if I could find it in my heart to forgive her someday. And I believe in it. They always do mean well. Perhaps in their meddling ways."

"I still would have preferred to have known. I don't know what I would have done if you weren't the one standing at the altar."

It was at this point that Guildford allowed the full length of his arm to settle around your waist, gathering you into his strong grip. He pulled you tight against him, his bare skin now pressed against yours, the heat from his bare chest radiating into you through the fabric of your dress.

He then let out a heavy sigh, allowing his head to rest against your forehead, his lips just a hair length away from yours as he responded with a whisper.

“I cannot bear to think what I would have done if it wasn't you at the steps.”

"We don't have to bear the fears any longer. We have each other now."

“We do.” He muttered, his voice low and grave as his grip on your waist only tightened. “For better, for worse.” Guildford lifted his head slightly and tilted it to the side, his gaze fixed on yours before he spoke again. "For richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, mine to love and to cherish till death parts us." Your lips meet in a kiss that had been a long time coming. It was passionate but tender. it was intimate and full of love. You found your arms automatically wrapping around his neck as he deepened the kiss, pressing you closer to him, the final piece sealing your marriage.

[danosrosegarden]

edward shimmer edward shimmer edward shimmer edward shimmer edward shimmer edward shimmer edward shimmer edward shimmer edward shimmer edward shimmer edward shimmer e

on occasion - edward nashton x gn!reader headcanons

elijah's anniversary celebration: post one!

✨ shimmer prompt: give me a character, and i will write a piece on how they would handle having a crush. ✨

{contains: edward being flustered and obsessive, general fluffy butterfly feelings!}

note: i am so sorry it took me so long to get to these. you can expect quite a few pieces to be published in the coming days! thank you for reading and supporting my work. xoxo, eli <3

♡ It would all be far simpler if Edward had the ability to admire in moderation. If only he could offer you the smallest speck of his heart, the littlest share of his love. That was just his problem. Edward Nashton did not love, but when he did, moderation was not possible. He loved all-encompassingly, with wide, sparkling eyes full of hope and a wildly skipping heart doused in desperate desire. There was nothing he could do to shake you from his thoughts. He simply wasn't able to rip you away from his brain.

♡ You didn't even do anything special; you just lived your life. But that was enough. Your pure, unfiltered existence was enough to have him entranced. Ever since you moved into his complex, he spent his days going crazy, waiting by his cellphone for a text or call. Hey, Ed, I'm off work! Wanna hang out? Hey, Edward, I'm going to the store! Want me to pick a treat up for you at the bakery section? God, you were so thoughtful. So caring. So funny and witty and so irresistibly you. Everything about you had him begging for scraps. Any piece of your backstory or future goals only fueled the crackling fire burning in his soul.

♡ Edward recognizes that the enormity of his longing could be perceived as overbearing or creepy. That's the last thing he would want, to scare you away. He can barely survive each day in his skin as is; he couldn't live with himself if he made you uncomfortable. So he does what he can to hold back. He declines your invitations to hang out sometimes so as to not seem clingy. He leaves you on delivered for a little while, even though he's practically glued to his phone, the intense, monstrous ghoul of FOMO looming over his shoulder.

♡ Even still, his crush is pretty pathetically obvious. He laughs hard and loud each time you tell a stupid joke. He blushes deeply when you compliment him, and his anxious finger-fiddling and lip biting isn't lost on you.

♡ Crystal clear, grade A anxiety. That's how he deals with a crush. He feels a rush of wildflowers bloom colorfully and brightly in his heart each time your name appears on his phone or he sees you in the complex's hallway. His stomach churns and his palms get clammy and goodness, he feels like an awkwardly love-drunk adolescent when he sees you: your glittering, smiling eyes, the way you walk and talk and smile at him...it all swirls around through his body like a whipping windstorm.

♡ He doesn't have the option of not overthinking every interaction, either. Did I say the right thing? Did I act the right way? Was I...cool? Jesus, he really did sound like a teenager, not a grown, mature man in his thirties with a real adult job and real adult responsibilities.

♡ The occasional high of courage shoots through him. He'll occasionally initiate a hang out session. He'll occasionally drop off a gift, maybe a baked pastry or a little trinket he found at the thrift that made him think of you. He'll occasionally write letters and practice speeches confessing his feelings towards you, and he'll occasionally rip the papers up and cringe into his pillow at the quivering in his voice.

♡ Maybe Edward doesn't know what to do with these monstrous feelings of adoration now, but it'll come to the tipping point where he can't bear the feeling of those blooming flowers in his heart anymore. They will outgrow their cage eventually, and he can only pray that you'll accept them and tend to them with him.

[exo-raskreia]

ok so i wanted to share my experience with bleach to you bc i just love that anime and it feels nice to do so after i read your blog haha (i like the way you think <3)

also it is kind of funny now that i think about it

i watched bleach for the first time when i was 14, i remember it was the first time i felt like so good with an anime, like when you say "damn this is what i was looking for"

i remember that at that age i didn't care that much about romance, i just liked to see ichigo fighting and i just hyped everytime i saw his inner hollow

EITHER WAY

i always knew/thought at that time that ichigo was in love with rukia, and yes i always knew/thought they were end game LIKE FR it was something obvious

years after that idk how but i got to know that ichigo ended up with inoue and i couldn't fucking believe it, i swear it was a shock at first but then again i didn't even care about it eventually bc i just cared about ichigo

years later i re-watched the anime as an adult and i just felt the same thing, that ichigo was so in love with rukia it fucking hurt, you know? and until that time i never read the manga, so i decided to do it (also i did it to see if ichihime's fans were right about everything they said, that in the manga you could see how ichigo "cared" about inoue)

AND YOU DON'T KNOW HOW I REGRET THAT BECAUSE I JUST FELT AWFUL

IT WAS THE FIRST FUCKING TIME I CARED ABOUT THE ROMANCE IN BLEACH

i mean i saw/felt even more the love ichigo had for rukia, and also rukia for ichigo. it was like they were so fucking in love they thought they had it well hidden but no, you just had to see their fucking eyes when they looked at each other and you would realize

i tried with all my fucking willingness to interpret the parts ichihime'a fans talked about so much, dude i felt uncomfortable, they were just moments were you could see inoue simping about him and ichigo didn't even notice her

I WAS LIKE ??? WHAT IS THIS PPL TALKING ABOUT?

and i really tried to like ichihime bc i love ichigo, he's like my fucking entire adolescence and i just wanted to see him happy

i just can't help but fucking feel he's the most unhappy person, he just loved to be a sould reaper and loved to be around rukia, in the end he didn't get anything of that and i ended up feeling fucking disappointed

so it is funny for me how as a teenager something i thought as an adult was going to change, in the end didn't, it just got confirmed

i just can't understand what was kubo thinking about when he gave us that end for ichigo, like even if he pretended ichihime to be end game, he should have given them the same (or more) development he gave to ichiruki. because there's fucking nothing between ichigo and inoue more than a fucking friendship (i don't even know to say if even that)

i thought about all this when i saw a comment of an ichihime saying "i just hope they confirm that poem was for zangetsu and not for rukia" you know in that post where ichigo's seiyu finally gave us those LOVELY WORDS for rukia

which first doesn't make sense if you want to interpret it that way (at least for me) and second...

DOES IT FUCKING MATTER?

even if it did ichiruki has a lot more, the way they look at each other, the way they support each other, the way they bring the best of each other, the way they trust each other, the way they talk about each other and i can fucking go on

i just wish i hadn't read the manga bc it made me care about something i didn't and i ended up feeling disappointed haha :(

i realized i wrote a lot, you probably won't read this but hey i wanted to get this out of my system

sorry if there's grammatical errors, english is not my first language. i love your blog and your mind <3

Wow, anon, no worries! And thanks! 😊 Even those who don't care for romance see how suspiciously romantic IR comes off as 🤭. (I'm telling u, I think most of the fanbase & their mother thought IR would end up together...)

The manga is definitely more on the nose about IchiRuki. Everything stands out more, is more emphasized. U gotta have a severe lack of reading comprehension to not see the potential between them. People who think the anime pushed IR clearly haven't read the manga; the anime only added slightly to what was already established (and the manga still did it better), such as the ice skating episode that Kub0 expressed satisfaction in 👀. He always seemed to express enjoyment with the portrayal of IR in adaptations 🤷‍♀️.

That's why I can't believe for a second that Kub0 had "always" intended IH. Everything about them screams they don't work together; they had no chemistry, no special moments, no bonding, no poems, no good teamwork, no trust, no special thoughts from Ichigo towards Ori, etc...

IchiRuki will always be the most special bond in Bl3ach. Nothing could top it. And it's not some regular friendship or rivalry bond like in other battle shounens with male characters. It's a special bond between a man & a woman who met in such a supernatural romance sort of way. Boy meets girl. Girl saves him. He saves her. Like, hello?? Heck, some people have made theories that Bl3ach is more YA fantasy or shoujo (like Ichigo being a shoujo protag) than shounen, lol.

(That's why I hate it when antis try to lump IR in with non-canon mlm ships, forcing Rukia to be just "one of the guys". They do it cuz otherwise, IchiRuki's special bond is unexplainable to them cuz wdym that Ichigo is this close to a woman that's not even his future wife— 🤪🤷‍♀️).

(On that note, one of the closest ships I've seen in animanga to the IR bond is NaLu from Fairy Tail. Ichigo ending up with Ori is like if Natsu were to end up with Lisanna 💀. Of course, FT is still ongoing so NaLu becoming canon is still on the horizon~)

IH could never. Kub0 can't even bother to give them content. Same with RR. He really could care less.

Even if Kub0 ended up retconning the "speed of the world" poem to make it about Zangetsu, it still wouldn't take away from how special the IR bond was throughout the manga. Ntm, the moment Ichigo regained his powers, he immediately set down his zanpakuto on the ground to stare at Rukia longingly while everyone's watching 🤣. Yeah, he really pined after those powers & not the woman in front of him...

Glad u also think IH didn't have much of a friendship either. They always seemed more acquaintances than friends. Ori was always just there? Butting into Ichigo's business? They never bonded...

Anyway, it's ok, anon, & hope that despite it all, you can still enjoy IR 🙂.

[maxdibert]

OMG, I also love the idea of Severus having a partner. Whenever I think about a post-war Snape, I can’t help but imagine him forming a small family. It doesn’t have to involve a child—a kitten or a parrot could be the little one of the house, or even a guinea pig. Someone small to care for.

But beyond that, what kind of partner would Severus have? I’ve always thought that if he did have a partner, it would be a Muggle. He’s tired of the magical world and wants to step away for a moment, which would lead him to start moving within Muggle society, inevitably meeting a Muggle. Although this also creates a conflict for me, since the only Muggle in his life up until then was his abusive father. But then again, he also put up with a lot of crap from many wizards. I don’t know—it’s a topic with so many layers, depending on the time period in which the story takes place and how the culture of both societies is portrayed.

Right? Like, let the man live peacefully. Let him have a quiet life with a house and a garden full of magical plants where he can research his stuff, read his books, and not be bothered by magical world nonsense or political intrigues anymore. With kids or without, it doesn’t matter—just let the man be at peace; he’s been through enough already. Honestly, I’m fully behind this idea. Because Severus wouldn’t care about being considered a war hero—he’d just want to be left alone.

As for the rest, Severus is a guy with a lot of issues, but mostly with a terrible personality. He’s got a strong temper but is also very repressed, though he can’t fully control his temper because he’s emotionally volatile. While I think a post-war Severus would be calmer due to less pressure, I also believe his emotional scars wouldn’t magically heal, so he’d still be a jerk, a git, and generally difficult to deal with.

That’s why I always picture him with a partner who also has a strong temper and enough backbone to handle his tantrums without being intimidated. Someone who’d tell him to go to hell and calm down before talking to them when he explodes. Probably someone used to dealing with emotionally and mentally unstable people, or someone who wouldn’t take his outbursts seriously and would just ignore him until he chilled out. I also see him with someone extroverted because he’s extremely introverted and would never make the first move in a million years. The other person would have to be the one to approach him and make him feel safe about the decisions he makes. Severus is incredibly insecure when it comes to emotional matters and would probably think no one could ever like him, mainly because certain people spent his entire adolescence calling him ugly and greasy, and that stigma followed him throughout his teaching years. That, and deep down, he has awful self-esteem and probably sees himself as a failure in general. So, I can’t picture him making the first move—it’s very hard for me to imagine. That super-confident, Byronic hero version of Severus in some fics doesn’t fit with how I see him. He’s insecure until someone proves there’s nothing to fear.

He’d benefit most from a confident, extroverted partner with the guts to take the initiative. Someone who understands he has a lot of baggage but doesn’t fall into a maternal/paternal role, because your partner isn’t supposed to be your parent. Your partner is your partner; they can understand and support you but aren’t your therapist. Especially for someone like Severus, who needs to work on himself, not rely on others to patch up his wounds. They can help him heal, but he has to do the work.

I actually started writing a Severus fic with a Muggle!Reader because I love the dynamic and found it really interesting. It’s fascinating to explore, especially since he grew up in a Muggle environment and clearly knows some things about that world. But I’ve always imagined that he completely distanced himself from it once his parents died, and probably didn’t have much contact with the Muggle world after becoming a Hogwarts professor, except when strictly necessary. By the early 2000s, he’d be totally out of touch with many modern advancements.

I also like that dynamic because Severus is a well-known figure—he taught nearly twenty generations of students, which is insane given how small the magical community is. Practically half the population must have had him as their Potions professor. Then there’s the whole "he killed Dumbledore" thing, being a Death Eater, and later revealed as a double agent. In a post-war AU where he survives, he’d basically be a magical-world celebrity, sparking very divided opinions. And that would give him massive anxiety. Like, on top of surviving (when we all know he wanted to die because he was so fed up with life), he’d have to deal with that nonsense? I 100% see him being much more comfortable with someone who knows nothing about him, has no preconceived notions or judgments, and gives him a chance to just be himself—or explore a side of his personality he couldn’t show due to his spy role and all the deception he had to maintain.

There’s also an interesting theme of cognitive dissonance—having prejudices against Muggles (which all wizards have, even the good ones, because they treat Muggles like idiots) and then being confronted with the reality of what Muggles are capable of. Especially given that he was a Death Eater and deeply hated everything Muggle due to his experiences with his father and the poverty he endured as a child in that world.

So yeah, 100% your headcanon because it’s mine too! 😂

[aregularhuman]

idk, something about House never really changing through the series. even when he did rehab n got sober, life was still shitty- he was still in pain and dealing with interpersonal issues and the repercussions of his childhood. something about how maybe the shittiness of life/mental illness can’t really be overcome, but dealt with, and how exhausting dealing can be, how easy it is to slip back to old habits. things don’t change, they move on. some people stay the same (Wilson), and some change and get sick of you (Cuddy), all because you’re unable to change. people don’t change, right? only seasons do- something about middle age can be so profound or so deeply sad. the first episode is everybody lies and the last is everybody dies- the same but more sad- it’s been a progressive journey downhill that everyone could see, but felt helpless to do anything about.

the way Wilson tried to change too! but just as he had three failed marriages at the start, he only had failed relationships throughout the show. he tried to break up with house, but he kept coming back to this codependent nightmare of a friendship. they’re doomed to be together in some way. are they simply too old and their neuronal pathways too set for them to change or are we all pathetically forever influenced by our traumatic childhoods and past experiences? are we pre-determined by our own trauma to fail? (me thinking about all those studies about the effects of child n adolescent anxiety on adult health outcomes)

and the way that kindest thing house did for anyone was letting thirteen go, releasing her from the rot around him that foreman and chase got sucked into- they both became like him in their own awful ways. the way she chose him to let her go from this life because of his emotional repression and the comfort it provided her and wilson at times. the way it can be so hard to even try to change when everyone, including yourself, have this idea of who you are and should be- what happened when house tried to leave the hospital to stick to his sobriety? how many jokes were made by the team that they preferred him on Vicodin? the distrust he faced from cuddy and Wilson about his sobriety? why bother changing if no one likes it? if no one keeps their word (Wilson making him move out)? and even Wilson’s cancer journey was so painfully real and them, the same they always were- house selfish and Wilson’s emotions not properly cared for? but could it have been another way? when I first got spoilered about houses faux suicide I thought it was gonna be entirely for Wilson bc I didn’t know about the jail thing, but when I watched it it made me so sad because it wasn’t the selfless meaningful act I was hoping for, but just them and their messy dynamics…. house giving up the one thing that gave his life meaning to stay with the one person that stuck with him- did he truly change, or is this yet another impulse decision the ocean of life will support him out of?

[lgcnina]

౨ৎ ⸝⸝ 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 , a solo.

once upon a time, birthdays had meant something more than they did now, anticipation and butterflies lining the pit of a younger ninas stomach as her imaginative brain conjured visions of bouncy castles, sugary sweets, and an ocean of gifts spanning farther than the naked eye could see. with adolescence came a certain wonder that seemed to coat everything, eyes glossy and rose-colored in a way that made the world seem far more vibrant than it'd actually end up being as father time marched forth.

the nina of today, freshly twenty-three and far removed from her more excitable years, loathes thinking she's completely lost that certain sparkle when it came to her outlook on life. she's by no means ecstatic, not in the same way she would have once been all too long ago, but she's content with what she's given.

far from being the type to hold others to a certain standard when it came to days like today, receiving anything ( be it a small gift or a few well-meaning words of positivity ) was more than what she could ever expected. so, the idea of having to host a live for herself is a concept that leaves her feeling rather off-kilter. she's no stranger to attention, affection and interest a given to be received considering her profession, but there's something much more . . . personal about all of this.

The room, one she's come to know like the back of her hand for practice and training purposes, is transformed into something unlike anything she could have ever thought it to be— sleek black curtains, draped purposefully, adorn the otherwise stark white walls. accents of maroon are strewn about, giving shape to an array of scattered balloons, hung streams, and mini party favors. even the silly little party hat nina humors herself into adorning shares the same hue, only a few shades off from the freshly dyed red of her hair. just above her head, stuck to the curtains behind her, reads happy birthday, nina with silver metallic letters. it's all just enough, flashy, but not obnoxious, and as things kick off, nina finds her stilted nerves beginning to ease as minutes tick on.

"if i'm being honest, i wasn't sure just how many of you would be interested in spending this time together," nina finds herself musing, shoulders relaxing as she leans more towards the camera a bit. "i thought to myself . . . surely, you've all got more important things to do than lend your time to something like this, right? i must say, my birthdays aren't usually this eventful, so this is different for me but . . . it does lift my spirits seeing just how many of you care." maybe she's feeling a bit sentimental, vulnerable in an oddly comforting way considering she's being broadcasted to more people than she can count. nina smiles. "i didn't mean to sound so sappy just there, but in any case, thank you all— and now, to pivot from all of that, how about some questions?"

time seems to fly past that point, the next thirty minutes packed with mellow chatter ( "favorite character, favorite character . . . i've always thought miffy was rather cute." "i remember once as a kid, my dad arranged one of my earlier birthday parties at zoo because, at that time, i thought i wanted to work with animals instead of sing. he's always been supportive of me." "remind me to show you all the cute keychain hayoung gifted me, it looks exactly like me when i'm in the vocal booths." ), and before nina knows it, she's got a mic in hand, her laptop situated before her on the table as she scrolls through her list of preplanned possible songs.

"it's been a while since i last did any karaoke, so i thought it might be nice to take some requests from you all— sound off suggestions in the comments while i finish setting up." contrary to the mild exhaustion she'd felt upon waking up that morning, nina feels good now, light. her voice floods the space, song after song, laugh after laugh, lips pulled into a content grin as she gives a final blow to the candles atop the pretty cake that'd been presented to her by staff at the start of the stream.

slowly but surely, the adjustment to idol life has gotten easier, smoother, and nina is all the happier for it.

"thank you all, again. i hope you join me next year, as well."

[trustywukkiii]

DS x Dungeon Meshi crossover !!! What would everyone's race and class be??? 🫣

OMG YES. TY THATS SO BRILLIANT.

Okay so.

Peri is definitely an elf. But she could never connect with magic quite as well as the other elves. She was pushed intensely into magic school in her early years, forced to learn every spell and such, and eventually the burnout would get to her. It’s not that she finds it hard, or has difficulties with mana, but she’s just not as interested in magic. The burnout was especially difficult to recover from when she couldn’t fit in with her fellow peers. Instead, she loves the work put into swordsmanship, hence she’s a paladin! She wears full on armor, and wields her sword to guide everyone. She can use magic to heal, but she MUCH prefers exploring dungeons and fighting monsters.

Rogue is a beast-man ranger. How he became so was still a mystery, but he had an idea. Last thing he knew before turning was that he had died during his mid adolescence deep into the dungeon with his best friend, Ace. He woke up on the upper floors by himself, only that he had a fluffy tail, and pointy ears on top of his head. Most of his skin had layers of fur, especially around his forearms and chest. After coming to terms with it, he had trained for a decade to use as many weapons as he could, such as the bow and arrow. Determined, he uses his strength and knowledge in tracking to find the one man who can turn him back into a normal human.

James is an ogre thief rogue (ironic, I know.) It should be obvious that you shouldn’t underestimate him, but he was short and skinnier than all the other ogres. You’d probably miss the two short horns hidden beneath his dark and fluffy hair. Although, this guy has a sleeper build. He could easily topple you down and hold a knife to your neck if you piss him off. Fortunately, he doesn’t use his strength often. Instead, he’d rather take steal money from royal pockets of passing parties. In his life of crime, he decided to join Rogue’s party, “inspired” by his determination to dive deeper into the dungeon. In all honesty, he had hopes for a new life with him.

Ace is a hardcore elf cleric. He was declared as one of the geniuses in school for always being engaged with learning magic. Little did they know he fixated in ancient magic in his own time, learning and creating some of his own spells for the sake of protecting and healing his loved ones. Being the exceptional healer he was, he can’t always save everyone. Being an elf weighed on him, having such a longer lifespan than the person he cared for the most wouldn’t end well for him. Thus, with his knowledge, divine faith, and his utter desire for immortality, he became a Lord of the Dungeon under the supervision of the demons— the Sisters of Fate.

Kilo is an elf wizard. She thrives in the pursuit of magic. She had always wanted to explore dungeons and understand the riddles encrypted into them. While her older brother Rogue supported her, he couldn’t afford to leave his eyes off her, in fear the same fate would happen to her if she got hurt in a dungeon. But that didn’t deter her whatsoever. The immense mana running through her would certainly motivate her. And she loves summoning her own familiars time to time, just to tease James.

Aster is a paladin kobold through and through. He abandoned being a prince of the island after a fallout with his brother. And upon sensing his desire for strength to protect his loved ones, Ace invited him as his own guard dog, as plainly as it was. He didn’t need to speak much. He needed only action when given orders.

Zian is the King of the Island where the dungeon was held, he’s also a kobold with white fur. After inheriting the throne and abandoned into the position, he was incredibly pressured. He was weakened, and lost. Fortunately, he was noticed none other than Ace. They had made a deal, for Zian to offer as much resources (adventurers) to feed the dungeon’s strength, and Ace to grant him whatever he needed to rule smoothly. Zian wasn’t quite happy to see his Kobold kin alongside the Dungeon Lord.

That’s about it from the main cast! Defying Sea and Dungeon Meshi are quite literally my favorites things in the world. So THANK YOU for this prompt. I loved writing all this :,] Might make an AU of it…

[aboutdifferentthings]

Jess and Rory are no jerk and no failure and they got together.

I just read too many things about Jess being a jerk and about Rory being a failure that I could not take it anymore and I know I am late to the party but I was not sure I wanted to watch the revival or seasons four to seven. I have only been able to watch it because I saw a post with Jess looking Rory through a window and just thought, ey, they meet again, they are together. And here I am. I will just let it out. 

When we meet Jess in season two he is a seventeen years old, an adolescent no one believes in. No one. I love season two: Jess and Rory have all these beautiful moments and he makes me laugh so much, they both do. But if you listen carefully you understand what kind of life Jess has been having and how he feels about it.  I won’t defend every decision Jess made  but the conversation with Rory in the car is so meaningful: “Ask my mother, principal or even your mother who does not even know me” no one, absolutely no one expects anything from him.  The principal in school tells Luke he has no interest in the subjects, other students or anything else and if you think about it, it makes sense: he has grown up probably by himself, no one really took care of him so he found refuge in his books and sarcasm. He needs really loud music to sleep, probably not to hear whatever was going on at home. He is not good with the small talk because he is use to be by his own and once again: he is seventeen, can we not forget this? In fact I find he has quite a lot self control sometimes (specially in 2x05) but that would take too long to elaborate here. 

And Rory is just so sweet. The only one able to connect with him, and to realize the potential he has got. I love how she tries to fight against this general opinion against Jess, she is the  best. The problem with Rory is that she has been living in a bubble where she is perfection and she thinks she needs to keep it like that and this is really difficult to break. All these feelings she is having, she is constantly doubting them because no one is able to validate them. To tell her, ey, it is normal, tell me about Jess, why is he so interesting? Instead of that her mother and best friend is constantly acting like if she was going crazy  for becoming friends with him and risking his relationship with Dean (do not get me started with him…) From minute one, she is so unfair with them that it really hurts. Lorelai is really unbearable in relation to Jess).

It is just specially painful to see that even when they are wonderful together they drift apart because they both have issues they need to work on. They could have done it together but in order to do that they would have need some adult support and they do not have it (Jess not at all and Rory not in the way she needs it). And I do not want to be unfair with Luke, he is a good soul, he tries… Jess understands it years later but at that moment it does not feel like real support, and it is not. 

Jess gets lost and he hurts her deeply because she will never be able to find that level of connection again and she is so afraid of suffering again the same way that she would never go for it. 

When Jess comes back in season four he his still not ready. I could write an essay about how he is right in a lot of the things he says and feels but he does not know how to articulate them. Rory loves him, she does and she always will but she is still hurting. He does not apologize, he does not tell her why even feeling what he feels.  he did what he did. On both occasions he just drops the bomb and leaves ( I think second one happens mainly because Dean was there. He would probably have said something different in other circumstances) And it breaks my heart. Rory needed an I am sorry I hurt you, an explanation of why she was abandoned and the reassurance it will not happen again. She needed to hear an ‘I will wait for you no matter how long and no matter where’ He may had the intention to say it but he can’t deliver it because he is not ready yet: he has too much unresolved trauma and seeing Dean just brings everything out. 

So she gets in this absurd relationships with Dean and Logan (the worst, absolutely the worst, no doubt) . When the bubble breaks she is just not able to navigate through life. 

And life goes by, it turns out Jess finds himself. Jess finally starts believing in himself. He is resilient and he has held onto the feeling he could do anything he wanted Rory had about him. He could not have written the book without her because he has held onto his love for her and doing so he wrote a book, got it published and pushed through life the same way he always has. He has found people that get him and he gets to be in a good place. He has matured. 

Next two times he sees Rory, he is in the position to say it, to offer her everything to really start a beautiful life together. He has put his pieces together, he is calm and happy with what he is doing. But guess what, Rory is a mess. And it is ok, it is  totally  believable. Sometimes in life, things don’t go as we want and you are a mess and you throw everything away and you just let it go. Jess just helps her to go back ( partially) on her feet. . He doesn’t try to win her back because he understands it is not the right moment. He is ready, she is not. And she tells him she loves Logan ( Logan of all: the one he has nothing in common with, the one that cheats on her, the one who does not care if she leaves Yale or anything she does, the kind of guy they made fun of) because to ‘love’ Logan is easier,  because if she does not have the deep connection, it won’t hurt that much and it doesn’t. She finally rejects his proposal and he leaves and she is fine, it does not hurt that much because it was not real love. He is not her soul mate. He will never be. 

And now they are both 32 and Jess has grown better and better. Although we do not get to know a lot about his relationships he has nothing permanent. He could have found love, we could have seen him happy. That also happens in real life. You really move on, you are lucky enough  to have a mature fulfilling relationship and live a happy life but he does not. Jess had a lot things going on in his life but he has never cheated on anyone or lied to himself about his feelings, so probably just casual relationships without attachment because he knows it would not work, he is not over her.

The thing is that she is still having issues. Awful relationships she knows are not going anywhere and same thing with jobs. She has lost contact with her feelings and her passions and when that happens it is not easy to go on. But guess who is going to put her in contact with her feelings again. He does. Starting with the book. And when she goes on writing, well that will make her remember how it was to feel real love. And well yeah, we have an open ending, which is not my favorite but I get to write my own ending and to play it in my head. Because that look through the window, that happiness when she showed him the three chapters, that is a lot. And they will need to talk about feelings, about wounds and also about books and about the future because now they are ready to heal and to start over no matter where. Together. 

[kenz0id]

Just Another Day: All You Need to Know

WAZUP GUYZ!? I realized I never shared anything about the characters in most of my content publicly, so I decided to make a short guide on the basics of JAD for those who are interested!

______________________

"He who never rests, who loves being with his friends, explore the world until the end. Needless to say, they've seen things none can explain, but hey... it's just another day!"

DESCRIPTION

Just Another Day is a PG indie series, following a dude who loves to explore what the world has to offer while he still can, alongside his friends! Even if it means all that exploring often leads them to face danger, the thrill cures their boredom anyway.

WHO ARE THEY?

Oh, them? Those are the main three: Kyle, Mike, and Ash.

"We aren't all that perfect, but we're alwayz up for sum fun!"

They share a strong bond built on years of friendship. They are often loyal to each other, and if things ever go wrong, they'll always have each others backs... sort of. Their friendship is filled with adventures and shared interests, such as exploring and playing games together. They also like to vlog random stuff they do, just because they think it's funny or content worthy.

However, they can sometimes be too competitive or arrogant, leading to arguments and conflicts, especially when it comes to games or other activities where they want to outdo each other. But despite these flaws, their friendship endures, and they always find a way to reconcile and continue their adventures together.

Kyle

He embodies the curiosity and energy typically associated with pre-adolescence. He likes to spend time with his friends Mike and Ash, he's mostly curious or bored and likes to explore surroundings he isn't familiar with. He can also come off as competitive when it comes to fun games he wants to take part in.

Mike

Kyle's bestest friend; his partner in crime. He has a funny and loud yet caring and gentle personality. He's a coward and a sweetie, he would never hurt a fly. but if you mess with his loved ones, he will end your life. He has a habit of eating. He's also pretty good at math, but he doesn't bring it up much.

Ash

She's trendy, short-tempered, and a bit sassy. She finds humor in situations and can be honest and genuine. Ash is into fiction books, K-dramas, and has expertise in romantic relationship advice. While she can be violent and aggressive when provoked, she is generally a nice person.

But wait! there's another fella...

it's Frank, the robot!

"They're so annoying, they never let me do cool trickz! but they do all the chorez for me, so whateva. It's cool, I guezz."

They share a unique bond, with Frank serving as both a friend and a caretaker to Kyle. Frank's overprotective nature can sometimes smother Kyle, making him feel restricted or controlled. So he often takes their assistance for granted, failing to appreciate the extent of their care and support.

Although Kyle mostly seems pretty annoyed by their presence, he doesn't realize how much he needs them around. Not even just because he could potentially be in danger in person, but also for the sake of his sanity whenever no one else is with him at home.

Frank

They're a robot designed by Kyle's parents to watch over and serve Kyle while they're not present. They're a very nice and kind robot, only ever showing pure kindness and sympathy. They will do anything to make sure he's healthy and safe. They also try to be funny sometimes, but Kyle and his friends just think it's lame.

Despite being the literal shield of the group, Kyle and the others often find Frank's attempts at humor annoying, and they occasionally tease Frank for being a robot, which can hurt their feelings despite their lack of emotions. Additionally, their literal-mindedness and occasional misunderstandings of human emotions can lead to friction with the group.

However, despite these challenges, Frank doesn't really mind the treatment. It's kinda their job to watch over them. As long as Kyle and the others are still alive and kickin', Frank's happy!

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Anyways, that's all you need to know about Just Another Day (JAD) for now!

Though you might have noticed I didn't mention other characters that were also present in some of my content. that's because I only added the more important aspects of JAD; Those fellas were more so just background characters. I don't mind sharing about them though! I just didn't wanna bother adding them in this post is all.

Thx 4 Reading! Hope this helped. ^^ If you have any questions, just ask in the Q&A!

[klaus-greeves]

THE INTRO || NUMBER EIGHT: CASSIE

On October 1st, 1989, 42 women gave birth to 42 children. This was only unusual in the fact that none of the women were pregnant when the day started.

One woman, located in Las Vegas, Nevada held the “miracle child” in her arms. A child she would call Cassie. A child she would love, no matter what. No matter the circumstance of Cassie’s birth- the mother had always wanted a child. She believed this was an act of God. She’d been living in a picturesque home, with her loving and supportive husband, and putting substance after substance in her body to make things work. This soon became a slippery slope- soon enough one substance was no worse than another substance. The picturesque home turned into sleazy motels. The loving and supportive husband became men of the night. Practically anyone who had spare change to give at the time.

Mom thought her opportunity for a happily ever after was long gone- but here she was. She had her wish. She set up for a few days and nights in her motel room. Between the lack of income and the nights of constant screaming she wondered if she could hack it. If she could truly live a successful life and provide Cassie with the life she needed and deserved. Most of the nights she sat wishing, hoping, and praying for another miracle. Another streak of good luck.

Enter Sir Reginald Hargreaves, eccentric billionaire, explorer, and (alien?). A knock was heard on the eighth door of the Sin City Inn. Cassie became a disgruntled newborn and filled the small room with cries. Mother opened the door with the chain lock still attached- just enough of her eyes peeking out to see who it could possibly be. Her black eyeliner smudged from the sweat and lack of sleep a newborn comes with was just the tip Reginald needed to strike up a deal.

You know how it goes… dear Reggie offers up a lump sum of cash in exchange for Cassie. Mother hesitates.

“But why? She’s my miracle baby. She was placed into my care by a higher being listening to my prayers!” She explained.

“Your price ma’am?” Reginald asks, with complete disregard for the woman’s explanation.

Mother looked to Cassie. She was asleep on the motel bed- no crib because Mother couldn’t afford it. She was crying out for food- she’d only ate once today because again, Mother had gone without in order to make sure Cassie’s needs were met. She looked at Cassie in her diaper made from a portion of curtains, and knew she didn’t have much of an argument if she wanted Cassie’s best interests at heart.

“Can we work out a deal?” Mother turned to Reginald. She was become shifty from the lack of substances in her body. She began contouring her mouth, obsessively twisting her hair around her fingers; she began sweating and fidgeting.

“I’m not sure you’re in the position to be making deals madam. But I am listening.” Reginald said, adjusting the monocle that rested over his left eye.

“Can you tell her who she was and why I did this. Can she possibly come back to me?” Mother bargained as she began chewing her nails looking back and forth from Cassie to Reginald.

Reginald thought for a minute. At this point- there is no reasoning with Mother. As a businessman, you say whatever gets the job done. ��Certainly,” he said as he signed his name to the check made out for $6000. “Take care of yourself.” Reginald scooped the child and away they went.

At this point, you can infer the child was raised with the rest of The Umbrella Academy. Cassie was always quiet, but made the best of situations. She grew through adolescence to be very sentimental, kind, understanding, and the glue that held her family together when tensions were high. Through Vanya’s isolation, Ben’s death, and Five’s disappearance- the shoulder to cry on was Cassie. The academy’s built in therapist with sound advice always at the ready was Cassie. The down for anything to not upset anyone was Cassie.

At age 10, much later than her other siblings, Cassie’s powers revealed themselves. Number Three, or how Cassie knew her: Allison, had joined Cassie in the kitchen, where she was working on her Spanish studies.

“Still no powers, Cassie?” Allison asked taking a seat. Suddenly Cassie gasped and had a blank stare. It’s like everything Allison was thinking was laid out like a novel in front of her eyes. Allison was thinking Reginald made a mistake when her adopted Cassie, how Cassie was a nice person, but a failure when it came to showing up and showing out. Cassie was heartbroken, but she’d never let it show. She became teary eyed and just shuddered as Allison stared at her with confusion. “Uhm Cas, what just happened?” Cassie gathered her things abruptly and left the room.

Cassie had ran to Pogo’s office and explained the events before. “My dear Cassandra- I think you’ve discovered your powers. We must tell your father at once.” Pogo took Cassie to Reginald’s study where he sat at his desk, in his chair, documenting notes about the training and tribulations with the others that day. “Mr. Hargreeves, you’ll be delighted to know that Miss Cassandra has shown the power of extra sensory perception.”

Reginald looked up from his notes at Cassie, then immediately went back to note taking. “Excellent Number Eight, we will see you bright and early for trials starting promptly at 7 am tomorrow! Rest now.”

Pogo turned to Cassie with a sincere smile- then handed her off to Grace to prepare for bed. “But I don’t understand- I only did it once. How will I know how to do it? What if I can’t do it again?” Cassie asked.

“Now now, do not worry yourself with such troubles! Your father is an excellent teacher. You’ll get the hang of it in no time!” Grace reassured, as she sent Cassie off to her room.

Cassie sat on the bed- her head began pounding from seeing all of Allison’s thoughts. Being so unprepared for the amount of letters, words, and sentences at one time in her brain and trying to make sense of them all. She clutched her temples, hoping the searing pain would not be a reoccurrence.

“Why Number Eight!” A mock British accent came from the doorway. “You’ve done it dear girl, you’ve got a much better power than that measly Number Four!” Klaus laughed. He returned to his normal accent. “Quick I’m thinking of a number between 1 and 10- what is it?”

Cassie stifled a laugh. “Uhm…” she stared at him for a moment. But no spattering of words and letters appeared. She didn’t know how to turn her power on. “…let’s go with…7?” She said with zero confidence.

“Damn, lucky guess. Okay let’s up the stakes and see if you’re just on a hot streak. I’m thinking of a number between 1 and 1 million,” he said leaning in the doorway.

“Okay Klaus and I want to ask Freddie Mercury a question. You conjure him and I’ll tell you your number,” she joked.

“Well played Number Eight, I will see you at trials in the morning,” he said saluting her and heading off to his room.

Cassie grew into her powers. She knew how to turn it on and how to turn it off. Hint: these powers come in handy when at job interviews, but not when asking someone if an outfit looks good or not. At the age of 20, she left the Academy in the trickle down effect that all siblings parted ways, except for Luther. No matter how desperately she tried to get him to part ways with Reginald’s manipulation, she could read his thoughts. The bastard still held Reginald in the highest of regards and thought the world of him. She could no longer handle being the glue. She had to get out. And so she did.

She found success in becoming a so called fortune teller. A prophet. Read people’s minds of their wants, needs, and desires and repeat it back to them. She’d just finished up with a client and turned the knob on the television. That’s when she saw the headline on a blue background. “REGINALD HARGREEVES DEAD”. She fell into a chair and became overwhelmed with a feeling of sadness and shock- but immediately was met with a sense of relief. Her first tonight: Luther is finally free. Her second thought: we are finally free. Her third thought: what do you even wear to a billionaires funeral?

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

Can I just say that I really love your Akari as protag? She's just such an authentic-feeling teenager, albeit one in various states of traumatic situations. Rei as well, in OoP, feels very believably like a teenager. It makes the betrayal they go through all the more hurtful to me, and makes me feel protective. All your Akari's do, though; I just want to wrap her in warm blankets and feed her good food and protect her from harm. It feels so unjust that this kid, who you make so convincingly adolescent, be stuck in these situations. But that's also what makes to so great to read, since it brings out such strong emotions.

WAAAH YOU ALL ARE BEING SO NICE TO ME...

ahem. um. yeah!! thank you!! no no we are completely in agreement re: all feelings about akari and the teenz in general. get her OUT of situations she should be tucked in cozy in bed (<- continuing to put her in situations). i actually think a lot about rei and akari and their relative characterization—since like, they're sort of meant to be blank slates in canon, but they've both developed into such distinctive characters in my head. and some of that does come from the protag-counterpart's characterization, yeah, but like, i don't think canon counterpart!rei is quite as much of a scaredy-cat as my rei is. counterpart!akari speaks in a more formal register and is more levelheaded. you get what i mean. they're different!

...i could talk a lot abt their characters really but. on topic, wrt wanting to protect akari, i think akari also. wants to be protected sometimes. like there's definitely a thing of kids wanting to be treated as adults, but like, akari is treated like an adult. by a lot of people. jubilife sees her as old enough to work one of their more dangerous jobs, to live on her own and more or less fend for herself. she's thrust into this role and responsibility of Hero, and she likes the respect and trust that gives her, and she wants to be the one to help everyone, but also. that respect and responsibility comes with an equal lack of support. and that's scary! she has to do this all on her own, with very little to guide her, almost nothing to fall back on if she fails. like, the adults around her do Exist, but again, they mostly treat her as this responsible, brave hero. they don't necessarily see her as a kid, exactly.

which i think is part of why, especially in oop, she becomes such fast friends with ingo. because ingo doesn't necessarily devalue her very real skills (teenagers soloing apocalypse cults is like a regular tuesday in The Future. any teenager can be scary if they turn out to be besties with a demigod or something) but he does look at her and still see how young she is, you know? and sometimes it's nice to be allowed to be small. to have someone say no, this doesn't need to be your responsibility. come here, sit down, i'll take care of it. you're safe. you can stop.

idk this was a lot of rambling maybe. points at Sinnoh is Silent that's also relevant. it's this delicate tightrope walk between "want to be a person with agency" and "don't want to do everything all by myself." yknow, like a 15 year old would feel! yknow?

[south-park-meta]

tbh It made me realise the reason why I loved SP's take on depression was better, if u compare Stan with other characters whose purpose is being social commentary on depression and mental health (Effy Stonem from Skins and Hanah Baker from 13 RW).

Hannah Baker (13RW)

Her character frustates me because 13 RW had so much potential,the idea was creative,narrating how many stuff drove her to suicide: from bullying,h4rr4sment,SA'D r4pe, not only adressing depression but to adress those things as well.

I know the author's intention and Selena Gomez's idea were good and focus on mental health but the development was icky,some dialogues feel rushed to arrive to the tragedy, some traumatic events feel to gave shock value to the audience than genuiely comment on it, besides how the series remarks you that if the love interest would have confesed Hannah, It would have saved her.

Which is very hurtful for many reasons.

A partner can help u throught recovery and being moral support but they aren't ur therapist, adding the fact that selling the idea "if he would have confessed,he would have saved her" when confessing or just be with them doesn't automatically saved them??.

Very different with SP, like Wendy and Kyle genuinely wanted to help Stan, but their moral support isn't enough to get him out of depression and sometimes it can be tiring for others (Kyle)

However If we compare a character that is more similar w/ Stan.

• they are both main characters and the leader of their friendgroup.

• they are the younger sibling.

• they can be charismatic,smart, and independant from such young age

• they can be bit arrogant sometimes.

• both of them are done with everyone's bs.

• both of them distrustful of adults, and sometimes get embarrased at their parent's stupidity.

•struggles with relationship, fear of abandoment.

• heavy uses of alcohol plus depression.

However their character differs on how the writers made them, while Skins's purpose was to show life never ends how u want it to be, and endings could be most be sad or just neutral,healing. Showing adolescence,teens struggling with addictions,disfunctional families,etc.

Skins GLAMOURIZED her depression,unlike her brother's behaviour. He was villianized (bc he was an asshole,he deserved it but he matured),he got heavier consequences. unlike her, while her friends and her love interest were fed up,they forgave her too quickly. it also presents u the narrative "love interest saves depressed person" to a whole level, while she was ""recovering". Out of nowhere,her bf gets killed by her psychiatrist?? Out of shock value. Even when she gets a bit of consequences she managed to manipulate to save herself, even with that smirk of "I'm effy stonem I'm always get what I want".

Effy represents an unhealthy and glamourized ideas of depression that the show pushed on it's female fanbase. (as someone w/ depression, when I saw the show I questioned why my depression didn't make me mysterious and prettier or get a bf that saved me from it)

"Her depression it's destructing her but that makes her even prettier and mysterious, ppl want to be her or fuck her"

and it had such an impact that on tumblr when the show came out until this day, many ppl want to be as mentally ill as Effy or fuck her.

Stan's depression and his self destructive tendencies is never showed as something that makes him mysterious or quirky. Neither his philosophy and way of thinking. His conflicts don't feel like to be shock value.

Althought he didn't get therapy at all,it protrayed realistically how some ppl don't get opportunity to be treated, and how sometimes they just have to move forward, feeling like shit but then a neutral point u don't care about anything,neither happy or sad, and keep moving.

Plus his personality,his behaviour in certain situations makes him more relatable to me than any character.

Tegridy farms burning? It was smth u see was coming. Because his anger is explosive, he puts out with his father behaving like a child,drinking,sometimes belittle him, always fighting with this mom for dumb stuff. The farm was an idea clearly Shelly,Sharon and him disliked. And them fighting over the divorce bc Randy didn't want to share money w/ Sharon was his breaking point, the impulsiveness "oh fuck it farm goes boom bc he is an asshole" cost him sister's life in the bad ending.

They showed Wendy trying to be suppoetive but not as his therapist or "love interest saves depressed person". Neither make Kyle his therapist or sm.

And it sometimes surprised me how SP while is social commentary is also dark humor and parody treated depression withot demonizing Stan neither glamourizing his depression.

Honestly his character is so interesting i could analyze that bitch for hours.

Idk how to expressed it but ugh.

I haven't seen Skins so I don't have a point of reference for it lol. I'm gonna go on a bit of a tangent with this.

Depression in South Park and its fandom is a tricky thing because I think a lot of people don't have realistic, or sensitive, headcanons about depression. Which is probably obvious by my whiny posts lately lol.

But it's also something, both for South Park as a fandom and media at large that needs to be looked at pretty carefully. There's a lot of headcanons that if I'm being blunt I think are God awful and insensitive if people think about it critically at all. Which I do try to weigh with the source being South Park which can in itself be insensitive.

The thing that makes South Park as a source fairly unique is it represents a more stereotypically 'masculine' depression. Which isn't to say women can't or don't act that way. But the 'explosive' depression is something that is more typically present in men. And that isn't something that is often present in media as a whole; the typical depiction of depression is more by-the-book representative of young women. (Again not exclusively so. Some of Stan's more annoying/negative traits are things I've felt and worked to outgrow. Probably some I've failed at lol). It also feels very authentic, presumably because Stan is so much of Trey in ways that characters aren't typically so emotionally autobiographical and usually have multiple writers.

That leads to the crux of my waffling with a lot of handling of depression. It very often is based on female depression, and whether in media or fandom is often based on stereotypes of this, such as cutting etc. A lot of stereotype appears because the authors can't personally relate. But then again, quite often authors DO relate to this, and it occurs so often because the authors themselves are more typically women than men, in particular in fandom. But on the other OTHER hand, depression is often treated as childishly annoying and something to grow out of, and in mocking it it very often is done by exaggerating the female depression stereotype that everyone has in their heads. Even in South Park there's a mess of trying to write mental illness but not being able to relate personally, relating personally but not presenting in the same way as is typical the demographic represented and shown in South Park, and finding mental illness annoying and actively mocking it, usually in these underhanded kind of headcanons.

Anyway this is a mess lol I'm about to clock out for work but hopefully there's still something decent in what I said. Mental illness and its representation is so multifaceted! Maybe I'll talk more about it tomorrow when I'm off :) thanks for the ask!

ETA Now that I'm back home:

Overall what makes good representation is:

Knowing from personal experience

Being earnest

There are at times things you can extrapolate from your personal knowledge of being human and feeling emotions even if you don't know things personally. But it's going to always feel truer when it is truer even with the best of intentions.

Being earnest makes a huge difference, too, and is something I think people forget. Shows like South Park can be and often are insensitive, but the feelings behind them are also often authentic and earnest. Shows like Skins, often aren't earnest by design in that more dramatic/soap opera based shows are usually looking for more shock value than emotional authenticity (someone feel free to correct me if I've missed the mark on the genre though. This is just what I've vaguely picked up from Skins from seeing like 2 or 3 eps and knowing the general premise lol). I think it also speaks to my earlier points in that the VAST majority of the writing credits for this show are men and have no lived experience as being a depressed teen girl. No lived experience and a desire for emotional reaction over emotional connection is, to me, always going to lead to a less 'true' outcome. Even if the show has its own positive merits.

I actually DID read Thirteen Reasons Why (in high school) and watched uhhh about 15 minutes of the show, which I quit because it struck me as OTT in a way that I don't really like. I did like the book okay but also thought at the time 'this dude doesn't know what it's like to be a girl', which is the crux of a lot of problems. But I do think Jay Asher has his heart in the right place which covers up some of the problems. I've heard a little bit about the show that makes me inclined to agree it leans into shock value though.

Side note as a rec, everyone should watch Ordinary People. That movie's good as hell.

[onetwistedmiracle]

LGBTQ youth want role models. Queer elders have a lot of advice.

By Jamal Jordan, February 10, 2023 at 6:00 a.m. EST

Young people in the LGBTQ community long for older role models. We found several, and they all have stories to tell.

When I think back to coming of age as a queer man, I most remember the lack of “possibility models.”I had no idea what my life could look like.

I had never seen — in real life or media — positive reflections of what it meant to grow old as a member of the LGBT+ community. Growing up in the shadow of a generation of gay men who were lost to the AIDS epidemic, I longed for something that said: You can grow old. Life will be okay.

The challenge of generational isolation is common in today’s queer youth. Young queer people without positive role models are at much higher risk for “psychological distress” in their adolescence and depression in adulthood.

When the Trevor Project, a nonprofit that provides information and crisis support to LGBTQ youth, asked young people what brings them joy, respondents consistently pointed toward examples of the future. They cited things such as, “Happy LGBT Elders,” “Queer role models” and “Learning I’m not alone and that there are more people like me” as sources of hope.

This exchange of hope goes both ways: Many older queer adults enjoy sharing their stories with younger people.

“When I talk to older people, they often feel forgotten, invisible,” says Michael Adams, chief executive of SAGE, the country’s largest LGBTQ+ aging organization. “A large part of that is because they often have no connections to young people. They have no sense that younger generations care about what they have to say and what they’ve done.”

A wide array of research suggests that finding ways to transfer wisdom from generation to generation is vital to improving the overall health of the LGBTQ community. This summer, I visited with five queer seniors across New York City to hear their stories.

Here’s what they had to say.

Bernie Brandáll, 86

Brandáll beams with pride as he shows me a photo from his early days as a traveling performer, taken sometime in the 1950s.

“I used to be gorgeous,” he says, laughing. “Now I look in the mirror, I look at my wrinkles, my skin sagging, and I don’t mind it. Do you want to know why I don’t mind it? Because I have lived a life. I can settle into this age knowing I didn’t miss a thing.”

Brandáll immigrated from Cuba to Miami with this family at age 10. He wanted to be a dancer, but faced pushback from family — particularly his older brothers, who ridiculed his “feminine tendencies,” a remnant of the homophobia rampant in both the cultures of Cuba and Miami at the time.

At 17, he moved to New York City to find work as a performer, quickly snagging a job dancing in a nightclub/cabaret show, but the dream didn’t last long — after two weeks of not being paid, the proprietor of the show “disappeared,” leaving him alone, broke and aimless.

He eventually found a day job as an elevator operator and triedperformingagain, but this time with a twist — instead of being a dancer, he would make his mark as a magician and female impersonator. A prolific scrapbooker, he takes me through decades worth of photos from his act. Looking back on images from one of his last shows, he says, gently: “I was a pretty woman.”

This work took him across the country and the world — from Las Vegas to Rio de Janeiro to Paris — and he recalls the long list of friends and lovers who instilled inhim a deep sense of contentment. “I had to be strong to build the life I wanted to live. But I’m so glad I had that strength, because I can be happy now. I did everything on this earth that I wanted to do.”

His advice for the next generation: “We are a strong people. But you have to remember that being strong is a choice.”

Guy Lawrence, 70

Lawrence feels that his whole life has been one big learning experience. “My youth was like the hippie days,” he says. “We didn’t have to think of the things that came on later, like you guys.”

“The whole world is different now,” he says with a sweeping gesture. “You didn’t have to worry about HIV, you didn’t have to worry about terrorism, you had spaces where you could go and meet other gay people — even if they were owned by the mafia. But we had them! And I feel like I spent every day discovering new things.”

He enjoys speaking to young people in the LGBT community, because he’s afraid that they are losing a sense of connection to the older people who made their current freedom possible.

Recalling, for example, the bittersweet feelings he experiences each year during Pride, he says, “I always tell young people: ‘Learn your history! And continue to create a new history so no one else can dictate what you can and cannot do.’ ”

His advice for lifelong learning: “Everything is changing day by day. Never be afraid to ask a question.”

Barbara Adams, 78

Adams learned to shoot a gun as a 4-year-old in Jacksonville, Fla. “Even then, I never wanted anyone to think of me as small,” she recounts, as we listened to smooth jazz in her home. “I always wanted to be a woman who took care of herself.”

Growing up poor and around women who suffered from loneliness, low-self worth and constant workplace sexual harassment, she knew that she had to escape. In her teen years, she saved all of her extra money in hopes of leaving. She stashedcoins and occasional dollar bills in a Chock Full o’ Nuts coffee container that she kept hidden.

She arrived in New York City in 1969 with $600, five new articles of clothing and a yellow steamer trunk. “I’m always so amazed that I did that,” she says. “I’d never seen anything other than the neighborhood where I grew up. But I knew I wanted to do something other than what my family was doing.”

So, steamer trunk in tow, and no real plan, she asked strangers to help guide her to Harlem, where she eventually found a place to stay — a tiny room in a less-than-savory boardinghouse near Central Park. “When you opened the window, there was a brick wall there — just like the movies,” she remembers, fondly.

The following decades were filled with the normal challenges — and triumphs — of adulthood: Buying her co-op, getting her heart broken, finding a stable job, making and losing friends.

“It’s hard for me to look back and remember any low moments because I always did my best to make everything fun,” she says. “I’m just so glad I wasn’t afraid to venture out to find my life, because I would’ve missed out on everything.”

Her advice for adulthood: “You get to create a life for yourself.”

Vernon and Robert Waldron, both 83

When I asked Robert and Vernon to share their most important lessons about love, their memories led to the beach in Aruba.

During the ‘80s, in the very early stages of their courtship, Robert was diagnosed with HIV. Leaving the doctor’s office in a haze, he decided to put on a strong face and immediately went home and informed Vernon. They were in the midst of preparing for their first trip together — but how could he travel like this? He felt that his life was falling apart and didn’t know what to do.

Unable to cancel plans or get refunds, they decided to go on their trip anyway. As soon as he set foot on the beach, Robert recalls, he began to sob uncontrollably as his mind filled with questions. How am I going to do this? How am I going to tell my sister? How am I going to tell my family? Am I going to survive this?

“I was sitting on the grounds of the most beautiful resort hotel,” Robert recalls. “And there were the most beautiful birds.” Finding one of his first moments of serenity since his diagnosis, he poured his heart out to Vernon — honest, for the first time, about the depths of his fears — and they cried, together.

Returning to America, Robert felt able to “face reality.” He told his family and friends, began treatment and started his path to a healthy life.

But four years later, he was diagnosed with colon cancer — and then, later, prostate cancer.

Vernon, who doesn’t speak much, finally pipes up when he recalls Robert’s hospitalization during his first cancer treatment. For weeks on end, he would stay in the hospital for the duration of visiting hours — he even bathed Robert twice a day. Doctors gave him a 50/50 chance of survival. And if he survived, he would also have to learn to walk again.

“Vernon had never seen me like this before,” Robert says, expressing his guilt. “I told him to go out, see his friends, and try to enjoy himself.”

“And I said no,” Vernon tells me, haltingly. “Because there was nowhere else I wanted to be but with him.”

Their advice for relationships: “Love, at the end of the day, is just always being there.”

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[wonderfuldeath]

.o| Seasonal Calendar |o.

Prickly

• July 4 •

Warnings : Violence, injury, graphic depictions, sex

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The weather was hot, the wind was dry, the drink between his fingers tasted of something that was going to cost him the small sum of twenty dollars, so the day wasn't starting out as he'd imagined.

Even so, he didn't care, the terrace was almost empty given the late hour, and he looked at his phone to make sure he hadn't missed the appointment, or arrived too early, and yet he could read, purple on black, that he hadn't. In fact, he was right on time. In fact, he was right on time. A light breath passed his lips as he stretched his back with difficulty, cracking it back into place, his eyes scanning around in the hope of finding the unfamiliar face he'd been waiting for. Min Yoongi had no idea what he'd gotten himself into, when the user by the name of: V the victory's man, suggested a crazy plan. Said V was a famous photographer, married, according to what he had told him, to one of the most popular men, a rabbit-faced model, whom Yoongi had never seen. Jungkook, if he remembered correctly. Anyhow… Yoongi had been accosted by this unscrupulous man, while he was doing his favorite thing: Watching time go by and cats being saved on Youtube. So, V had come to accost him on an app he didn't remember having, that his best friend Hoseok, who obviously hated knowing he was single, had installed for him, to make him a strange proposition: Come on a date, with a photographer looking for a muse. Whose name he didn't know, nor his face, nor even what kind of photos the guy took. In short, Yoongi didn't know much about what he was doing with his life, but he was always being told to do things a little different from his usual routine. So here he was, at the seaside, around eighteen o'clock, doing a photo shoot with a stranger he'd met on a dodgy website. Maybe not the best idea after all, but now that he was there, sitting on the terrace of the bar he'd chosen, he might as well enjoy the last milkshake of his life.

“- Kitty Cat?”

Yoongi jerked up as he straightened his cat eyes, mentally telling himself that he should gut Hoseok with his stupid nickname. He remains silent long enough to discover the stranger. Smaller than he'd imagined, but his pair of shoes with heels told him not to comment. Yoongi was almost disappointed to find out that he was a photographer rather than a model. His outfit was of an adolescent: a simple red vest over black jeans, candy-pink hair, the very cliché of the artist, and Yoongi wondered if he had any other secrets hidden beneath the layers of clothing. Yes, the Min was gay, or rather Bi, he liked everything, as long as the person in front of him had a character that matched his ideal, the physical for him? A face could quickly lose its resemblance over time, while a personality remained stagnant. He snapped out of his torpor, wondering how long he'd been staring at him, learning the features of his face, and Yoongi finally nodded, inviting him to settle down.

“- I suppose you're V?

- Ah… No, V is my best friend. I'm Jimin, Park Jimin. But people just call me Jimin.

- Yes, they do. Min Yoongi.”

Yoongi was often described as being like a cat, not very talkative, not very affectionate at first sight. But life had wanted it that way. Unscrupulous parents, a life on the streets, trying not to sink, he had learned to toughen up, to become a rock without emotions, never to complain. In his thirties, he'd seen a lot, not all of it pretty, not all of it good. But he remained polite, so Yoongi ordered Jimin the drink of his choice, a glass of alcohol, a cocktail with exotic names, before the photographer snapped out of his torpor, as if Yoongi had made a great impression on him.

“- As V says, I'm looking for a model for my new portfolio. I'm an art student at Seoul University. I can pay you! It would be a three-year contract.

- What line of work do you do? Male model?

- You could say that, yes. I do sensual, nude photos. I showcase a body, to prove that no matter what may have happened in your life, you can still be beautiful.”

Yoongi didn't know what to say, remaining silent while he took in all the information, he didn't like himself very much, there was nothing special about him. He was an ordinary Korean, with eyes more slanted than some others, nothing more. He took his time to think things over, before Jimin came up with a real contract, and truth be told, the price was more than acceptable for this kind of thing. To tell the truth, Yoongi couldn't really afford to be choosy: he was also an artist, and music was everything that made him tick. But it was hard to make a real place for himself in this kind of place, the competition was tough, so he couldn't really say no to easy money. Three years would give him enough to get a decent apartment, save up, and leave his best friend's apartment once and for all.

“- Where will the shoots take place?

- In my apartment, I'll give you the address, in a reliable setting.

- It's a lot for a student. How can I be sure I'll get paid?

- The checks will be issued by Jeon Jungkook. You can always check to see if they're real."

Panic in Jimin's eyes, he pinches his lower lip as he digs into his satchel a second time, pulling out the first paycheck with two zeros more than on the paper, signed by the obviously masculine hand of Jeon Jungkook. The famous model married to V. Yoongi looks at it, takes it between his fingers, inspects it like a tax inspector, looking for the slightest trace of forgery, but he was no expert, far from it. So he just takes it, looking at the small lines of the contract, everything seems legal, so he signs, sure and certain that he's not risking selling a kidney. The young man looks reassured, finally blowing out his breath and letting himself go in the seat of his chair, as if a huge weight had just been lifted from his shoulders.

“- At a price like that, you must have had quite a crowd, right?

- Well, not really. People are terrified of having photos of themselves in a vulnerable position. If you hadn't signed, I'd probably have had to write off my year. Thank you.”

The kid seemed polite, genuine in his gestures. Yoongi paid for the two drinks, before returning to Jung Hoseok's small studio, a veritable dance machine, having opened his own school which was all the rage, the young man was behind the kitchen counter, straightening a curious gaze at the good humor of the cat sliding onto the bar stools.

“- Someone's got good news, obviously.

- You'll be able to resume the rhythm of your sexual frolics with your girlfriend, the cat takes off.

- You got a job? You know I would have if you hadn't told me not to.

- Exactly. I don't want to take advantage of you anymore. Besides, my boss is pretty cute.”

It hadn't taken Yoongi long to find a furnished studio apartment that he could afford. After all, he wasn't a fussy man who settled for very little, so as long as the residence was quiet, the neighbors were silent and he got his five hours' sleep, it suited him perfectly. The school year only took a good month, giving Yoongi the chance to settle in comfortably, and get his bearings in his new home, before receiving the first message from Park Jimin, called just Jimin, which made him laugh every time his eyes fell on the contact name. Yes, he could be a bit of a brat when he wanted to be, but Jimin had even sought him out, a bit. Jimin's apartment was bigger than his own and much better maintained. It was always strange to walk into a lived-in apartment that looked like the magazines, impersonal, tidy, an apartment of a guy who had to go out on the street and watch people while they lived. One of psychopaths. Yoongi couldn't help the shiver that ran through his body as he nipped at his lower lip, Jimin indicating that he should take a seat in his office, a large desk filled with various accessories, a bed in the center, chairs arranged perfectly straight, Jimin must have had a few knocks.

“- Excuse the mess, I haven't finished setting up my office yet. Take off your top, we're going to start soft and go from strength to strength.

- Okay.”

Yoongi settles down, takes off his leather jacket, and hesitates for a second, before taking off his shirt, in a slow gesture, as if he wanted to take as much time as possible, finally his white skin is revealed in front of a slightly surprised Jimin. A hiccup passes his lips and Yoongi almost feels bad about this reaction, as he rushes to grab his top, Jimin holds him back, apologizing half-heartedly.

“ - You're beautiful.”

The words had passed his lips unintentionally, to the reaction of the photographer, who apologizes half-heartedly, before taking on a more professional air. He indicated that he should strike a pose, before the session began, and Yoongi finally agreed to play along. The more time passed, the more the clothes slipped off the pale skin, the months ran by like grains of sand, and Yoongi had never asked to see Jimin's work. He trusted him, after all. A year goes by like that. And Yoongi is called in again for a shoot, a sweet habit that makes him smile softly, but he pauses in front of the new painting at the entrance to the house. Yoongi's features are recognizable, he's from the back, the curve of his hips almost touchable, while his bulging buttocks can be made out beneath the veil. It was in black and white, which brought out the scar on his shoulder, a flowing line from a distant operation that no one can forget. Jimin let him contemplate, in silence, before opening his mouth.

“- Do you like it?

- I'm not sure.

- If you want, I can take it off. I'd put it somewhere else. So I could look at it.

- How often do you look at this kind of picture?

- Every day. When we're not working together.

- Well, that's good. I'd feel less guilty then.

- Guilty?”

Yoongi approaches Jimin, kissing his lips with infinite tenderness. Time turns and stops at the same time, as the younger man responds with equal tenderness and feeling, making the older man smile. Realizing that perhaps, finally, he had hope at the beginning of this summer, that their contract would last more than three years.