#i saw one person on twitter say 'change the hate not the date' okay that's interesting please go on

[fazcinatingblog]

Omfg it's funny because it's true, damn we needed that 3 game member.

[undercovercameron]

same person, same mistakes

summary: coming home from college, you see the boy you never wanted to; and he's the same as he always was.

notes: i just wrote this literally so quick it was magical... there is rough sex, cheating, a semi-choking kink (as always), and mentions of drug use and literal alcohol use in this one! i'm also yet again noticing a pattern.... what is with me and bathroom sex? anyways i hope you people enjoy! consider this a favor, i'm preparing you all for rafe to have a love interest

tags: rafe cameron x reader

word count: 2929

When you walked into the country club that night, you made a beeline for the bar. Your first year of college had not been treating you well, and you needed a drink. A strong one at that. 

Your favorite bartender, a red-headed woman named Joey, was working that night. She made you a vodka soda just like how you liked ‘em: more vodka than soda and a shit ton of lime. An underage-drinking staple. But hey, you were only two years away from legality. It wasn’t that bad. 

You drank it with your younger brother Landon by your side at the bar, watching him refresh Twitter for the status reports of the hockey game happening tonight. 

“You want the NHL, Landon?” Joey asked, wiping up a ring of perspiration with a black rag at the now-empty tabletop to his right. “I can change it.”

“Yes, Joey, thank you,” Landon sighed, pocketing his phone, and swiveled around in his chair towards the TV mounted beside the bar. “Hey,” he said abruptly, and you hummed curiously in response. “Rafe is here.”

You crunched down onto the ice cube in your mouth, the easy smile on your lips hardening.

“Who is he with?” You ask, not turning to look, and focus in on the stack of paper coasters next to the mixing pads. 

“Dunno. Some girl. She has black hair.”

The grip on your drink tightens. 

“Nice,” you say through gritted teeth, gaze never wavering from the coasters. 

Yes, Rafe Cameron had a girlfriend. She was some hotshot golfer from Northern Carolina. You saw her in your communications lecture sometimes, sitting in the front row next to her posse of badly self-tanned girls with shining smiles and alcohol problems. She had sat next to you on the first day, passing you the syllabus with a snarky look on her face, and you had decided to hate her right then and there. It was a simple hatred, nothing personal, but when she came back to the Outer Banks with Rafe’s hand in hers, it got personal. 

Rafe was your highschool fling. He used to pick you up from school in his truck and you’d go out to the lighthouse or the beach by his house or his grandparents' summer home fifteen minutes away to hang out, have sex, or smoke. Usually all three. You two dated for nearly 10 months starting at the first semester of your senior year, and then he decided to break it off and focus on being a good son and good employee of his father’s. Whatever. Like he actually did anything of the sort— all he’d done while you were at college was hold his hand out to his father and snort coke with your hometown’s dealer. 

And then he has a girlfriend. A beautiful girlfriend, but you’d never admit it. You wonder if she has a cocaine problem too. 

You weren’t averse to drugs, no—in fact, you had a J with your breakfast nearly every day. But at least you weren’t dropping hundreds of dollars for fifteen minutes of a high every week. And at least you weren’t distracting yourself between the legs of a tall black-haired student athlete. 

Maybe you were bitter. 

“Two more,” says a breathless voice at the end of the bar, and you just let your eyes fall closed. Landon slaps at your arm without pulling his eyes from the TV, and you curse at him with a smack back. Asshole. 

“Y/N?”

You breathe in through your nose. Okay. Don’t act like you recognize him. 

You turn towards Rafe, a pleasantly blank look on your face, and purse your lips. 

“Hi.”

“Hey.” His perfectly tan face splits in a grin, and he comes around the corner of the bar towards you two. “Hey, Landon.” He daps up your brother, that stupid look still on his face, and just stands and looks at you for a second. He puts his hands on his hips, and your gaze follows them for a second before moving back up to his face, whip-fast. You see him catch it, the corners of his lips tugging up further. He sighs. “I see the Xanax finally caught up to you.”

“Ha!” You blurt loudly, a mocking smile on your face, and you look down to your feet. “That’s actually pretty ironic, sweetheart. You’ve got a little something.” You look him in his eyes and wipe at your nostril. The grin drops from his face. 

“Nice to see you again.” His tongue pushes at the spot between his teeth and his lip. “Just like old times. Still a bitch.”

“Still wasting your dad’s money.” You sip at your drink, lips around the straw. You catch him glance at them. Ha. Gotcha. “How’s, uh, Betsy King, over there?”

The black haired girl is sitting on the deck with her back to the bar, watching the hockey game on an outdoor TV. You watch her hair move in the wind for a moment, hating it. 

“Easier than you, believe or not.” Rafe stares at you. You snort. This is fun, you suppose. Just like old times, like he said. Biting conversation and secret glances at each others’ mouths. 

“Two whiskey sours?” Calls Joey from the end of the bar, eyebrows drawn when she doesn’t see her patron. Rafe glances back at you, chewing at his lip, but decides against whatever he was going to say. He just walks over and grabs his drinks and disappears back outside. You suck at the straw of your drink, coming up empty, and drop it onto the counter. Your head is buzzing. From the liquor, yes, but also from him. He makes you so angry—so stupidly and embarrassingly angry. That stupid face and stupid smile and stupid hair and stupid boat shoes. 

“That was nice,” says Landon, still focused on the TV, but you see his head turn slightly when you sigh. 

“Sorry.” You are, really. You’re supposed to be on your best behavior; it’s not every day your parents let you take your 16 year old brother to the country club to sit and watch you get drunker and drunker.

“Yeah.” He sounds annoyed, and you feel embarrassed.

You drain two more vodka sodas and call it a night. You spend your time staring at the array of liquors and mixers beneath you at the bar, making small talk with Joey about the island, and numbly watch the hockey players beat each other to death. Rafe comes back in for another drink an hour after your conversation, but you just ignore his eyes on your profile. 

“I’m gonna go pee, and then we’ll leave.” You heave yourself off of the stool, wincing at your sore ass, and nearly stumble. Shit. 

Landon says “okay”, eyes on his phone and texting, and you hobble towards the bathroom on steady feet. You avoid looking outside, knowing it will only aggravate you. 

The bathroom door slams behind you, too heavy for its own good, and the motion sensor lights kick on. You pee, staring up at the ceiling, and try to will away the pounding in your head and rippling vision. 

You scrub your hands after, desperate to rid them of the dirt and grime of your day, and try not to think about how you wish you could wash Rafe out of your life. You stare at yourself in the mirror with a paper towel between your hands. 

The girl in the mirror looks tired. You poke a finger at a pimple on your forehead, frowning. You just sigh. 

You turn towards the door and wrench it open, the smell of restaurant and something musky filling your nose before you step out, and you barely get a foot out the door. Two hands push at your abdomen, eerily familiar, and you stumble back into the bathroom with your eyebrows drawn in confusion. 

Rafe clouds your vision and your smell, hard chest at eye-level, and he reaches behind him to lock the door. 

You stare up at him, chest heaving and he looks down at you with those stormy eyes. 

“You’re aggravating, you know that?” He says, sounding exasperated, and seizes your waist in one large hand, pulling you to him. His mouth finds yours, familiar, and you feel his fingers on your warm cheek. You hate to admit it but your heart thumps loudly in your chest when you taste him. 

His other arm snakes around your hips and grabs at your ass. You fall into the hard counter of the sink vanity, and you hum pleasantly. 

“What about—about her?” You barely pull away to say, breathless, and he just pulls you back to him with his with strong fingers entwined in your hair. 

“Up,” he murmurs into your mouth, and you brace a hand on the sink and obey. He pushes between your legs and your arms wind around his neck. You just breathe each other in, blood pounding, pressed up against each other. 

Your fingers find the hem of his shirt, and you push it up to feel his skin. He’s hot. Your fingers crawl up his abdomen and press to the center of his stomach, feeling it heave and push against your fingertips. He nearly flinches away at your cold fingers but is drawn closer when you make a noise into his mouth that reminds him of that time in the lighthouse where you had left with bruises around your neck and he with an ache in his hips. His hair is smooth when you drag a hand up to feel it, newly blunt and choppy. You like it all the same. 

His body has grown and matured while you’ve been gone. His shoulders are stronger, bulkier, and when you feel the flesh of his stomach it feels more alive. Like he’s been moving and working hard while you were gone. Maybe he has been. With her. 

You pull away at the thought. He chases you, fingers at your jaw, but you back up into the wall. He licks at his lips, a dangerous look in his eyes. He doesn’t like when he doesn’t get what he wants. 

“What’s her name?” You ask. He removes himself from your grasp, backing away. He drags a hand through his hair. When his eyes meet yours, his eyebrows are drawn and his lips screwed up as he chews at his lip. 

“Allison.”

“Do you love her?”

He barks out a laugh when you ask, hands pressed to the counter on either side of you, head bowed. 

“Love? Are you insane?” He looks back up at you, shaking his head. He heart skips a beat when he thinks of you two in high school, and then he thinks he might be insane. 

“Well, I’m currently in a family bathroom at the Island Club with you, so maybe.” You try a smile, but it falls when your eyes meet again. He thinks for a second. 

“You’d be in here with me even if I was fucking married to that girl.” He watches your expression change from somber to disbelieving. 

“You think?” Your eyebrows raise, incredulous, and watch as he nears you again and bows down to your eye level. You like to think you’re not the affair-woman. Well, you guess you might be. 

“I know so. Why do you think I told your brother to get you to come tonight?” His lips curl into a smirk. 

You just stare at him. Manipulative, psychotic, deranged, possessive. He’s all of the above and more. He slipped the idea into your goody-two-shoes 16 year old brother’s head to bring you to a bar and fuck him, and it makes your heart drop to your stomach. 

You grab at the collar of his shirt and tug him down to you. Your mouths connect with a hot breath into his mouth, and you arch up into him. His hands find your lower back and he drags you further from the wall, letting you carefully slide on the granite and fall onto your back. 

His large hands fumble with your pants, popping the buttons, and you crane your neck to watch as he tugs them down your legs, panties following with a slip of his thumb. He ducks to kiss you again and you hear his belt jingle. His fingers tug your shirt up and over your bra, and he grabs at a breast tightly as he jerks you down once more and pushes his dick into you. 

You cry out, fingers on his cheekbone, and arch up into him. He just hums into your mouth, liking the feeling of your muscles straining around him, and it feels just as good as it used to. Just as beautiful as you’ve always been. 

“Rafe,” you start, a breath caught in your throat. His nose brushes yours and he looks into your wide eyes. “Fuck me like you mean it.”

Rafe’s head falls, and he groans into your neck. Fuck, you’re so hot. 

He grips your hips tight and pulls you away and then back, hips colliding with yours and prompting a pained noise from your mouth. He relishes in it. 

He slaps a hand at the wall above your head, using it as tension, and his hips move along with yours like they’re supposed to. It’s an uncoordinated dance, soft flesh rippling against hard muscle, and he pants into your mouth with the strain. 

“You feel so good,” he groans into your ear, and you squeeze around him in response. “Fuck.”

“Please,” you mumble, lips pressed haphazardly against his stubbly cheek. He smells so good. You curl an arm around his head, fingers brushing past his hair, and hold his head down by yours. 

The bathroom is loud with breaths and the sounds your bodies make, lewd and hurried. He huffs into your neck when he feels a pinch in his back and adjusts you further from the wall quickly. Nearly your entire ass is hanging off of the edge, precarious, but you know he won’t let you drop. His fingers around your back fall and he pushes his hand between your legs, seeking what you know he’s always been good at paying attention to. His large thumb finds your clit immediately, strumming you open, and your head falls back.

“You’re on the pill still?” He asks, fingers tight, and you close your eyes.

“Implant,” you say, squeezing your eyes shut. “Fuck, Rafe,” you nearly cry, but slap a hand over your mouth. His thumb strokes you in quick circles, and you’re cumming onto him embarrassingly quickly. Your abdomen tenses and you curl up into him. You feel your legs warm and you tighten them around his back, wanting him deeper as you fade into pleasure.

He grins at that, but it fades when his eyes squeeze shut and he’s bowing to touch his forehead to your chest. He bites at the bunched-up material of your shirt and pushes himself as deep as possible—so far that you can feel the flesh of your stomach move. He cums into you then, the release washing over his whole body and coating him in a sheen, and he nearly collapses on top of you. 

You two catch your breath, still connected, and he pants hot into your neck. 

“Fuck.” You struggle to swallow, nearly choking on an inhale. 

“Yeah.”

He rugs himself from you, wincing, and zips his pants back up. He offers you a hand and you take it, struggling to slide off of the counter and onto your shaky legs. He watches you slide your underwear back on, wiping his mouth, and enjoys the show. You get your pants back up but fumble with the button and zipper. 

“I hate this,” you mumble, eyebrows furrowed, and just give up with a roll of your eyes. 

“Here,” he half-chuckles, and easily zips you up and buttons you with nimble fingers. Fingers you know and love. 

Wait. 

Before you can think about that, he grabs your face in two hands and tilts you up to him, staring at your relaxed features. He admires you. And then he dips to kiss your mouth one final time, savoring how your lips move against him like they’re supposed to. Like they always have. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he whispers, breath cool on your lips, and you stare up at him with confused eyes. 

“What’s tomorrow?” 

“I’ll come over.” He shrugs, and reaches to unlock the door. It swings open, and he sweeps a hand to gesture for you to leave first. You pass the threshold, patting down your hair, and lock eyes with Allison when you emerge from the cove that has the entrance to the kitchen and the bathrooms. She looks confused. 

Guilt washes over your body, making your blood prickle at your skin, and you swallow. You walk straight past her piercing gaze, feeling Rafe pass you and go straight for the deck. You grab your jacket from next to Landon and feel for the keys. 

“Let’s go,” you say to your brother, voice quiet, and he nods. He follows you as you exit through the side door, heading for your parent’s SUV. You toss him the keys when you get to the passenger door and he secretly and silently fist pumps. 

“Did you talk to Rafe?”

Landon asks when he gets buckled and starts the engine. You sling the seatbelt over your torso and click it into place. 

“Yeah. He hasn’t changed.” You watch Rafe usher Allison out the side door, hand on her lower back, and you swallow. “Let’s go home.”

[blubffsd]

— WORLDS COLLIDE PT. 3

summary: The lie you believed your whole life just fell apart, the person you loved the most let you down once again. Why did you think this time would be different?

previous chapter

note: i really don't know what song to recommend for this part, just play your favorite sad song lol. please pretend that on social media it says "Mia" instead of Y/N, i edited it like 3 times and it never saved so i gave up.

@http-isabela love u 😚💞

Indignation.

That's what Mia feels now.

She has a hard time believing what she sees, but unfortunately it is real.

They backstabbed her in front of miles of people.

It wasn't until she arrived in Argentina that she found out about their tweets, all thanks to Anto, who had found out from Jorgelina Cardoso, Di Maria's wife.

After Mia found out, the players of the Argentina team found out too, Lio told them what happened after Anto told him.

Most are completely outraged by the audacity of her brother-in-law and his wife to make such comments.

All of them are still euphoric for having become world champions less than 2 days ago, and even more so now that they are waiting in Ezeiza to celebrate with the Argentines at the Obelisk.

So right now they do and say things that they wouldn't do at another time.

And Mia too.

Will she regret of this? Yeah.

Does she care now? No.

Obviously people suspect that the tweets are for Melissa and Jirès (especially those of Enzo and Julián).

If Kylian and Mia's names was a trend before, now there are even newspaper articles speculating what happened between them.

And as if that weren't enough, now she has his boyfriend's fans attacking her on twitter, just like when he said he's dating her.

Jirès even had the audacity to reply to her tweet.

Mia knows she were wrong a lot, but is all that necessary?

It's okay that they're mad at her and she understand it. But why increase the hate she is getting?

Why are they treating her like this if two days ago they had dinner with her and told her how grateful they are to have her in their lives?

Did they lie to her or were her attitudes so bad that they changed their opinion drastically?

Even if it hurts Mia keeps seeing the tweets out there about all the drama.

Wonderful.

Now they are relating the songs of her favorite singer with her love dramas.

THEY EVEN MAKE A PLAYLIST. (it's real btw)

Mia lets out a laugh when she saw the songs they chose to "cry over your divorce".

At least they are not criticizing her or judging her actions.

It doesn't make Mia feels better, but she doesn't feel worse. That's okay.

She wants to believe that's okay.

Mia arrives at her father's house hours after arriving in Argentina.

Anto insisted so much that she stays with her and the children but Mia refused, she needs to talk to her dad, she miss him so much.

Mia knocks on the door of the house while she sees the Argentine flag hanging.

Her father opens the door for her in a matter of seconds and when he sees her he smiles and hugs her.

Mia smiled slightly as she felt his arms around her.

It feels good to hug him again. And that he is the one who took the initiative makes her happy.

Although deep down in her heart she knows that he is hugging her because Argentina won the World Cup and not because she came home after 5 years.

He invites her in and she enter his house.

Everything in the house was the same as when she left, but it felt different.

—Sentate si querés (Sit down if you want) –he says pointing to the couch in front of Mia.

She nods and sit back watching him do the same.

There is an awkward silence between the two of them until Mia speak.

—Y... ¿cómo andás? (So... how are you?) –her father turns to look at her and smiles widely.

He's going to talk about football.

—Estoy re bien, hija. Me siento tan feliz, nunca me había sentido así en mi vida, te lo juro. (I'm fine, daughter. I feel so happy, I have never felt like this in my life, I swear.)

He doesn't have to swear for Mia to believe him, she knows he's not lying. He was never this happy.

—Qué alegría, pa. (What a joy, dad) –she smiles slightly not knowing what else to say.

Mia wish she were as happy as her dad, but she can't knowing what she did.

She can't get Kylian out of her mind and how he must be now, a few hours away from his birthday.

She knows she have to explain everything to him but she doesn't have the courage to do it.

What excuse could she make for having abandoned him after not having achieved what he dreamed of all his life?

Mia comes back to reality when she feels her dad's touch on her shoulder.

—¿Eh? ¿Qué pasó, pa? ¿Me dijiste algo? (What happened, dad? Did you say something?)

She hears her dad laugh and sees how he shakes his head.

—Te pregunté qué dice tu noviecito por haber perdido (I asked you what "that guy" you're dating thinks about losing) –a mocking smile appears on his face.

"That guy you're dating"? Is that the way he intends to name her boyfriend?

—No sé, todavía no hablé con él. (I don't, I didn't talk with him yet).

—¿No quiere hablar con vos todavía después de haber perdido? Qué idiota. ¿Cómo se llama? ¿Kyle? ¿Kylan? (He doesn't want to talk to you after losing? What a idiot. What's his name? Kyle? Kylan?)

The mocking smile doesn't leave her father's face and that can't bother Mia anymore.

He doesn't even know his name.

—No es ningún idiota y su nombre es Kylian. Me sorprende que no sepas el nombre de mi novio, con quien estoy hace 4 años. (He's not an idiot and his name is Kylian. I'm surprised you don't know the name of the guy I've been in a relationship with for 4 years.)

Her father laughs mocking Mia's words.

—Kylian, nombre de perdedor en las finales (Kylian, name of a loser in the World Cup finals) –he laugh again.

Mia frowns. He's acting like her boyfriend hasn't hattrick or won a world cup yet.

He's trying to humiliate Kylian and she is not going to allow it.

—Te recuerdo que "ese perdedor" ya ganó un mundial y en su primer intento, y también casi gana su segundo mundial por su cuenta (I remind you that "that loser" has already won a World Cup and in his first attempt, and he also almost won his second World Cup on his own).

Now her father is the one who frowns, surprised by her words.

—Dejá de defender a ese tarado, ese chico no vale la pena, te lo dije millones de veces. Estás haciendo lo mismo que hiciste en 2018. (Stop defending that dumb guy, that boy is not worth it, I told you millions of times. You're doing the same thing you did in 2018.)

Mia takes a deep breath trying to calm down, what is happening cannot be real.

—Te hacías la que querías que ganáramos nosotros para que acá en los medios de comunicación no te dijeran nada, pero seguramente querías que gane ese estúpido que tenés por novio. Y sí, no querías que te pase lo mismo que en 2018, que lo apoyaste a él cuando estaba jugando contra tu país y me hiciste quedar como un tarado. Me traicionaste y me dejaste de lado por tu novio, lo elegiste antes que a mí y no tuviste ni un poco de consideración conmigo (You pretended that you wanted us to win so that here in the media they wouldn't tell you anything, but surely you wanted that stupid boyfriend of yours to win. Of course, you didn't want the same thing to happen to you as in 2018, that you supported him when he was playing against your country and you made me look like a stupid. You betrayed me and dumped me for your boyfriend, you chose him over me and you didn't have one bit of consideration for me).

Mia can't believe what she is hearing.

—Ese chico te va a dejar por la primera chica que encuentre, no sé cómo duró tanto con vos. Todos los futbolistas son iguales. No me sorprendería si me decís que prefiere el fútbol antes que a vos (That boy is going to leave you for the first girl he finds, I don't know how he lasted so long with you. All footballers are the same. I wouldn't be surprised if you tell me that he prefers football over you).

That was the last straw.

—Entonces estás diciendo que Kylian va a hacerle lo mismo que vos me hiciste a mí (So you're saying that Kylian is going to do the same thing to me that you did to me?)

Mia feels her dad's stunned look and her let out a sarcastic laugh.

—Según vos él va a elegir el fútbol antes que a mí ¿no? Y me estás advirtiendo. Qué considerado, no querés que pase por lo mismo que me hiciste pasar vos (According to you, he is going to choose football before me, right? And you're warning me. How thoughtful, you don't want me to go through the same thing you put me through).

Her dad gets up from the couch completely angry.

—¿Qué decís, nena? Si a vos te di todo lo que pude para que no te faltara nada (What do you say? If I gave you everything I could so that you didn't lack anything).

Mia sighed completely frustrated, he doesn't get it.

Obviously he doesn't get it.

—Ya sé y te lo agradezco. Pero siempre hubo algo más importante que yo, no te importaba qué pasaba conmigo ni nada, nunca fui tu prioridad (I know and thank you for that. But there was always something more important than me, you didn't care what happened to me or anything, I was never your priority).

She feels how a lump forms in her throat and tears appear in her eyes.

Her father keeps glaring at her in front of her, as if she just insulted him.

—Siempre había un partido más importante que mi cumpleaños, una práctica más importante que mi graduación. Cuando nací mamá me dijo que te quejaste porque tenías que jugar un partido ese fin de semana y no ibas a poder por tener que cuidarme a mí. Y tenés el descaro de venir a advertirme de Kylian. (There was always a game more important than my birthday, a practice more important than my graduation. When I was born, mom told me that you complained because you had to play a game that weekend and you couldn't make it because you had to take care of me. And you have the nerve to come warn me about Kylian).

Her father does not take his eyes off her.

—Bueno, y decime entonces, ¿dónde está tu noviecito ahora? ¿Te buscó o algo por lo menos o no le importas lo suficiente como para querer saber dónde estás? (Well, and tell me then, where is your boyfriend now? Did he look for you or something at least or does he not care enough to want to know where you are?).

That hurt Mia.

Kylian hasn't called her.

But she didn't call him either and she should have.

—Él al menos no me llamó gritándome que soy una traidora, que no merezco vivir y que dejé de existir para él como tú lo hiciste (He at least didn't call me yelling that I'm a traitor, that I don't deserve to live and that I ceased to exist for him like you did).

There isn't a single hint of regret on his face, her father looks at her seriously, as if telling her that if he had to do it again, he would.

—Estabas apoyando al enemigo (You were supporting the enemy).

Mia remember Hiba's words to her during the match.

"You're wearing Kylian's jersey and sitting next to his family as you clap for the enemy."

This whole situation is so similar to 2018 but feels so different.

—Kylian necesitaba mi apoyo y estuve ahí para él. (Kylian needed my support and I was there for him).

Her father laughs sarcastically.

—¿Y por qué estás acá conmigo y no con él? Si él tanto te necesita (And why are you here with me and not with him? If he needs you so much).

Mia looks at her dad and then at her bags.

He's right, for the first time since she were born.

Why is she there with him if the one who really deserves to talk to her is Kylian?

Why did she think her dad would change this time?

Why is she there with him and not with Kylian? How could she get so carried away?

Mia takes her bags under the stupefied look of her dad and take one last look at his house.

The walls still have the same photos of her dad when he played football, it makes Mia a little sad to remember when she asked him why he hasn't photos of her there.

"It's just that I don't care enough about you".

After saying it, he laughed, implying that it was a joke.

Mia opens the door and walk out of her dad's house.

Maybe it wasn't after all.

note: HELLOWODOWODO

taglist: @nightlockcornucopia @melliflulu @mad-die45 @bifici @woozarts @neymarsrealgf @meanwhilesomewhereelse @psgkm7 @matthiashelvarsgf @krillfromsky @ashley-leclerc @mxgvmiii @like3dbypierregasly @httpspedri26 @aerangi @berryhtrs @lena-03 @gash167 @claaau5 @notanenthucutlet @okayline @noodle81937

[berzahoes]

is she single? | spike jonze

summary: the reader, a famous filmmaker, does the WIRED autocomplete interview and the internet just loves how much she brings up spike.

an: been wanting to write about spike for so long and i’m finally doing it <3 also i think i want to make this into a series because it’s my dream to be a filmmaker and this is the result of me knowing it’s never going to happen 😭 and for this imagine, spike didn’t date sofia coppola so sorry to you sofia coppola girlies

warnings: y/n mention i hate using y/n but it’s just for the intro to the interview SORRY also i tried to use questions that don’t mention physical features like height, eye color, etc.

you smiled towards the camera as you heard counting then the words “wired autocomplete interview, take one!”

“hi i’m y/n l/n and this is my WIRED autocomplete interview,” you introduced yourself. suddenly a crew member handed you a board that had google searches covered by strips of white paper. “okay, let’s see what you all google about me.”

you ripped the first strip off and read the question. “what is y/n’s net worth?” you chuckled. “whatever it is, it should be higher.”

again, you ripped off another piece of paper. “what is y/n’s favorite movie? whenever someone asks me this, i always say the same. my answer has never changed for seventeen years. my favorite movie is jackass number two. not the first one or the third or the show. number two.” you said with the most serious tone ever.

“who is y/n dating?” you read then looked at the camera with a smirk. “oh you know, just this guy who called me a bitch when we first met them almost got me arrested because i punched him.”

“is y/n married? unfortunately to the same guy who called me a bitch. our love story is so beautiful, i’m sure we’ll tell it to our kids as a bedtime story one day.” you joked.

“y/n l/n husband. spike should get that tattooed on his forehead. or when he wins awards, they should announce him as y/n l/n husband.” you put the board on the floor and got handed another one.

“y/n l/n oscars 2018,” you weren’t sure what it was trying to say. you were thinking back to oscars day of 2018. that night you and the cast and crew for your movie had won the major categories, best picture, best screenplay, best director, and best actor and actress. then it hit you. apart from your movie trending that night because of the wins, you were also trending.

“oh! i guess they’re talking about when i gave my speech and i ‘forgot’ to thank spike. he knows that i love him and respect him. a lot of people on twitter were tweeting me some mean stuff like ‘you forgot your husband? why didn’t you thank your man? you’re a bitch!’ first of all, he wasn’t even mad, second, the only person who gets to call me a bitch and get away with it is spike jonze. and lastly, we went out for ice cream after so everyone was happy in the end.” you smiled brightly as you remembered that night.

“who is y/n l/n’s celebrity crush?” spike knew about your many celebrity crushes, but he didn’t know about your first ever celebrity crush. “i don’t know if this is cheesy, it might be now that i’m thinking about it, but whatever. my first, emphasis on first, celebrity crush was and still is spike jonze. i know, cheesy, right? but before i met him, i had this huge crush on him because i saw his picture in this magazine i bought. actually only a few people know this so why not tell the whole world. i went out with this guy and we had the dinner and a movie type of date so we went out to this new restaurant then we went to go see this movie he really wanted to see and that movie was ‘being john malkovich’. we didn’t go on another date after that because a month later i met spike and that’s when the whole bitch and punching thing happen.” you explained.

“well, that was my wired autocomplete interview. i hope you learned a little bit more about me because i tend to over share a lot. thanks for watching!” you waved goodbye to the camera.

TWITTER

@/jonzefilms: can y/n teach me her ways of manifestation?

@/ynsoscar: they’re my film parents and i love them 🫶🏼

@/teenidless: y/n mentioning spike every five seconds is my serotonin

@/filmwhore8: spike jonze? no that’s actually y/n’s husband

@/ilovecatz: when 😭 he 😭 calls 😭 her 😭 a 😭 bitch 😭 and 😭 she 😭 punches 😭 him 😭 and 😭 they 😭 get 😭 married

@/directedbyyn: imagine being excited to see a movie with your date and you lose your date to the director of the movie you went to see

@/lovelyfilms: spike really said “my wife is a bitch and i like her so much”

[rancidpancakebatter]

Choose Me (Fix It)-[P.P.]

Pairings: TASM!Peter Parker x Female!Reader

Summary: Trouble in paradise and the Green Goblin, what could possibly go wrong? (Everything...everything can go wrong)

Word Count: 5.5k words

Content: Swearing, Mentions of pregnancy, Mentions of Miscarages, Near-death experience, Hospitals, Happy ending

( Masterlist )

A/N: @thoserthebestkind I hope this is a sufficient fix-it. I apologise that it took me so long to make this, to be completely candid I forgot, lol. 

I changed the formatting a bit and there were some minor revisions to the original story. 

I added a cute text break to indicate transitions from past and present. 

I hope you like the little epilogue :))

Life was cruel sometimes. That was the only thought you could think as you felt this crushing weight on your chest. You could slightly make out someone calling your name; you turned your head around looking for the source. 

“No, don’t move, it’s okay. Just stay there. Stay right there.” His voice sounded strained, he was grunting. You saw him then. The red and blue suit and pale white eyes staring back at you. Stuck under rubble and debris. Trying his best to pull himself up was Spider-Man, Peter Parker. Your Peter Parker. 

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●

You thought back to just this morning. You had woken up to an empty bed, something you hated saying you were used to. You checked your phone, first checking to see if your husband had tried to reach out to you at all. When that came up empty you checked Twitter to see if there were any updates on Spider-Man. 

Anytime you saw he was trending you felt your heart in your throat. Worried that this time it wouldn’t be because he stopped some super-something-or-rather, but because it had stopped him. Luckily there was nothing there either. Just silence. 

You began getting ready, showering, brushing your teeth, and making breakfast. You were getting dressed when you heard your window open. You ignored the man and his quiet footsteps, focusing on choosing a jacket. 

You felt his arms circle your waste as his chin came to rest on your shoulder. “Good morning, beautiful.”

You felt anger burn in your chest at his nonchalantness. “Where were you, Peter?” 

He released you from his grasp, knowing that tone all too well now. “I was patrolling.”

His reply came out dry and tired. You fixed your blazer before turning to face him. He looked mostly intact, there was a small bruise on his jaw but other than that he seemed fine. 

“All night?” You were aggravated. You were tired of having this conversation with him. 

He brought his hand up to his face, massaging the bridge of his nose. “Yes, all night. Do you think I was doing something else?”

You clenched your jaw, counting to three, just like your marriage councillor taught you. 

“No,” You said curtly, “I know that’s what you were doing because that’s what you’re always doing. You’re never here because you’re always patrolling.”

Peter shook his head letting out a humourless laugh. “Yeah? Well, why would I be here? For the past three months, it’s just been this!” He threw his finger quickly between the two of you. 

You let out a dry chuckle of your own, looking up at the ceiling, blinking back tears. “Right, and that’s completely my fault, isn’t it?”

Peter didn’t say anything, just looking at you with dead eyes. Ones that used to be so full of love you almost couldn’t stand to look at them. Ones that used to crinkle when he laughed, he didn’t do that so much anymore. 

He was right, you guys had been fighting a lot. Something you never used to do. Being with Peter was one of the easiest decisions you had ever made in your life. He got you, in a way no other person could. There was no need to quarrel because you guys were always on the same page. 

When Peter told you he was Spider-Man it scared you. You had been dating for a year and studying with him for two. He had cancelled on you again. You shook with anger and confusion. Midterms were coming up and you needed to get good grades to keep your scholarship. You had been so stressed out and Peter promised to help. He promised.

“What could possibly be more important than this?” You remember shouting at him. You watched as he ran his hands through his hair before grabbing his backpack and leaving with a small, “I’m sorry.”

That night he returned to you, early in the morning. He sat you down and broke the news to you. At first, you were in disbelief but he made his point by jumping up and hanging from the ceiling by his fingertips. 

Your brain started connecting the dots. All the times he seemed to be covered in bruises only for them to disappear a day later, making you think you must have dreamed them. Peter’s absence during big events only for Spider-Man to appear, saving the day. His constant tardiness. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You had started crying and he quickly let go of the ceiling and sat next to you on the sofa. He pulled you into his lap and began caressing your hair. He wasn’t sure what you were feeling but he wanted to make it better. 

“That’s how I lost her.” Gwen. You never knew her but he had mentioned her before. He had brought her up in that first year of college. He had brought her up again before you had agreed to date him. He told you that she had died. He told you that he was scared. You understood now, of course, you didn’t have the whole picture but you had enough. 

Your worry for Peter never diminished, if anything it grew. The longer you were together the more you loved him and the more you loved him the more you saw a future with him. But it’s hard to plan for a future when your partner is mindlessly chasing some abomination through the streets of New York. And worry can be masked by many emotions, mainly anger. 

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●

You heard a sardonic cackle in the air above you. “Oh Peter, won’t you save her?” 

You didn’t like the way he said his name. That wasn’t for him to say. You heard some heavy steps, then metal colliding with something before Peter groaned. You mustered as much energy as you could.

“Leave- leave him alone!” It wasn’t very loud but the attacker heard you. You listened as heavy steps came towards you.

Your vision was blurry but you made out big blond hair, cold blue eyes, and a pale face with lots of veins. His suit seemed metallic and hefty. He squatted down, closer now, grabbing your face; his fingers digging into your cheeks. It hurt. 

“Oh, Peter dear!” He sang in a nasal tone, “Ms Lady doesn’t look too hot over here. You might want to hurry up!” He called the last part over his shoulder.  He was mocking Peter and it made you angry. 

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●

three months ago you held a pregnancy test in your shaking hands. Your palms were so sweaty that you dropped the box twice trying to open it. You were three weeks late and you ran to the bodega down the street as soon as you realised. 

You and Peter had been married for three years now. You had made it through college, a teaching licence and many monsters together. You were nervous, to say the least. You wanted a family with Peter. You loved the man and you knew how important family was to him. You wanted to be able to give him that. 

You twisted the rings on your fingers waiting for your timer to go off. You admired the small diamond on your engagement ring. It was Aunt Mays. She had given it to Peter to propose with. He told you later that he hadn’t even considered it until she did, but then he realised that marrying you was all he wanted to do. Your heart melted at the thought. 

It was positive. 

Your anxiety grew tenfold at the realization. You were going to have a baby. You were going to have a baby with your amazing husband. You were going to start a family. But if he wasn’t more careful he wasn’t going to be around to see it. 

You told May. You had to. You were dying to tell someone but also you wanted to tell her. She had become a mother to you in a lot of ways over the years and you were delighted to tell her she was going to be a grandmother. She wasn't thrilled about Peter not knowing but also understood that you were scared. 

Now you were too busy fighting to tell him. Too scared that he hated you too much now to want you. Terrified because when you told him it would be real. 

You convinced Peter that you should do some couples counselling and he hated the idea but agreed to do it. You needed help to tell him, but it never came up. Between the therapist trying to figure out what Peter’s second “job” was and you two snipping at each other, not much progress was made. 

“We pay this guy up the ass and it doesn’t seem to be helping!” Peter once said to you. Silent tears fell down your face, unsure how to defend it without coming clean about lying to him for a month.

“It’s only, like, a hundred a session. That’s not so bad.” You were wringing your hands in the cold December air. Something Peter usually picked up on, but not lately. 

“Yeah, well so far I don’t think I’ve gotten my 300 dollars worth.” 

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●

“Don't fucking touch her!” Peter sounded distressed and you wanted to fix it, but you were useless in this situation.

You felt a dull ache throughout your body. You remembered then, the baby. You looked down at the debris littering your body and began to cry. There’s no way they survived this, you would be lucky to. 

Peter heard your hiccuping and it seemed that’s all he needed. He broke free from the rubble and when he saw Harry’s hands on you his vision clouded with red. 

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●

You remembered this morning. Peter staring at you from the edge of your bed three feet away but never feeling so far. You balled your fists taking a shuddery breath. “I just don’t understand why it’s so hard to choose me.” 

And with that, you grabbed your coat and walked out the door. You had been fighting about his Peter-to-Spider-Man ratio a lot lately. You wanted Peter home more, and safe. He said he couldn’t just tell crime to stop, so he had to keep going out. You were arguing in circles and it was getting you nowhere. 

Your whole day at work you were a snivelling mess. The kids didn’t complain as you declared it a video day, each class loving the selection of Bill Nye videos you had chosen. You were about to leave the campus to get some lunch when you heard a knock on your classroom door. You wiped your tears and beckoned them in. 

Peter was still in his lab coat, probably rushing over here from his day job. Usually, you would swoon at the sight of him but you were still very upset and maybe a little hangry (and quite possibly pretty hormonal as well). You crossed your arms in your chair and said nothing as he came closer. 

“Darling,” He began. “I wanted to say I’m sorry.” 

His eyes held a certain softness that had almost become alien to you. The coldness you had become accustomed to now melted into gentle, dark chocolate. You tried to keep your stare stern as he continued walking toward you. 

“You’re right, I-” He stopped abruptly, his face falling from neutral to distressed very quickly. You pulled your brows together in confusion, unable to keep your face level. 

“Have you been crying?” You looked away embarrassed. You were angry and you didn’t want him to see you weak. Suddenly, he was on his knees in front of you. 

“Oh, Honey, I’m so sorry. I- I made you cry at work. Well…crying at all is bad but this is really bad.” You refuse to look at him as you feel new tears fall. Your door unexpectedly creeps open. 

“Mrs Parker, are you in here? Mrs- Oh, sorry I didn’t know you were busy.” You look past Peter to see a student in the doorway.

Travis Deakin was an odd kid, he wore a flat cap and a Minecraft creeper hoodie every day, with his trapper keeper strap slung across his chest. He was weird and someone you would have found annoying when you were his age, but he was kind and did his work on time.  

“It’s quite alright Travis, I’m never too busy for my favourite student.” Peter shifted to sit beside you on his haunches, admiring how you treated your students. You noticed Travis was staring at Peter and decided to introduce them, “Travis, this is my husband, Mr Parker.”

You watched as the boy gave Peter a small wave and Peter returned it. “I’m sorry to interrupt, I just want to make sure you were okay.” 

You tilted your head and quirked a brow, “Of course, I’m okay.”

“It’s just…everyone’s said they’ve seen you crying today.” Travis was playing with the strap of his trapper keeper as if worried about getting in trouble for saying it.  

You gave the kid a genuine smile, “I’m okay, I promise. Thank you though. That’s very kind of you to check on me.”

You tried to ignore Peter staring at you, knowing his expression would be filled with guilt. Travis didn’t seem convinced and chewed on his bottom lip as if debating whether to say something else. You sat, patiently waiting. 

“Is it because you’re pregnant?” Your jaw dropped, your mouth flapping like a fish as you stuttered over what to say.

“I-well I- um, Trevor that’s…um” Peter cut you off before you could conjure up an excuse.

“You’re pregnant?” Peter’s face was back in front of yours. You couldn’t quite read his expression and you didn’t think you wanted to. You looked back at the kid who now seemed alarmed looking between you and Peter. 

“Um, Trevor why- why would you think I’m pregnant?” You watched as he shuffled from foot to foot, Peter unmoving and hands on your waist. 

“Well, you seem really happy, and you hold your belly a lot when you talk…and I heard Ms Kragger say you are.” You chuckled before letting out a sigh. You looked into Peter’s eyes smiling. 

“Yes, It’s because I’m pregnant.” You had never seen Peter smile so wide, you think he created more dimples. He picked you up from the chair spinning you around. You giggled in glee as he brought you in for a kiss. 

“God, I’m so happy. I love you so much.” You giggled and Trevor excused himself, shutting the door. 

“I love you too, Peter.” You ran a hand through his hair, soaking in the sweetness you had been deprived of. His smile faltered slightly as he searched your eyes. 

“How long have you known?” You looked away from him, ashamed.

“Three months,” You said in a voice so small that he wasn’t sure he would have caught it without his supersonic hearing. 

You watched in horror as Peter fell to his knees, his head carefully buried in your stomach. 

“I’m so sorry. You’ve been so worried about me and I just-” You massaged his scalp, trying to ignore his tears wetting your shirt.

“Peter, it’s okay. It’s okay, love-” He raised his head, shaking it furiously from side to side before resting his chin on your belly. 

“It’s not, but please know I choose you (Y/n). I’ll always choose you.”

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・● 

You couldn’t move your hands. You couldn’t feel them much either. You wanted to push the rocks off of you, to curl up and hold your stomach. You knew realistically the baby was gone but you couldn’t let yourself think that. 

Tears of frustration racked through you as you tried your best to move. You heard Peter and that guy fighting, they were talking but you couldn’t make it out. You were scared. You didn’t want to die, and certainly not like this. Peter needed you and you couldn’t leave him, not yet. There was still so much you wanted to do. 

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●

“We should make a bucket list!” Peter chuckled from the kitchen, where he was washing plates from dinner. He stepped over to the coffee table and sat beside you on the floor. 

“Why? Planning on dying anytime soon?” You shoved his shoulder with yours.

“No, never, but I think it would be fun.” You grab a notebook and pen from your backpack, labelling it "Future Parkers' Bucket List." He smiled and you continued to scribble things down as he peered over your shoulder. 

“Hey, that one doesn’t count,” Peter said pointing to the first thing you wrote down: “Marry Peter Parker.”

“Yeah, it does! It’s important when making goals that you also have mid-goals and easily obtainable ones, so you don’t get bogged down by a lack of progress.” Peter relented and continued moving down the list, reading them out loud.

“‘Own five plants at the same time and keep them alive for at least a year’, ‘Learn to drive a manual', ‘Go on a hike’-Have you never been hiking before?” You shook your head no and Peter continued.

“‘Win one honest game of chess against Peter’. Yeah, keep dreaming, love. ‘Vacation on a different continent’, ‘Own a pet named Pancake’, ‘Learn the Footloose Dance’” Peter’s smile doubled as he read the last one. 

“We can get this one done now,” He said with a wolfish grin. Peter ran to grab his laptop and set it up on the entertainment system. He then turned to grab your hand and lifted you from the floor. Your chest blossomed with love as he brought your ringed finger to his lips, giving you a soft kiss there. 

One hour and three dance tutorials later you had both mastered the moves, you continued dancing around your living room when Peter declared, “We should play this at the wedding!”

You laughed but it was still played. You let Peter lead you to the dance floor once again as he now placed a kiss on your wedding band. You and Peter were the only ones there that knew it besides Aunt May and a few of your uncles. 

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●

You cried harder as you realized your life was flashing before your eyes. That wasn’t good. Neither was the coldness you felt seeping into your bones. All you could do was lay there…and die.

There was no second wind, no sudden powers coming, no way to pull yourself out, no chance. Your eyes felt heavy and you knew what that meant. You closed them smiling as your memories continued to bring you peace. 

Your wedding vows came to mind: 

“Peter Benjamin Parker, I promise to love you and cherish you every day. I promise to support you in all your endeavours. I promise to be the love of your life for the rest of your life. You have been my best friend for these past six years and I couldn’t imagine anyone taking your place. When life gets hard I promise to be there. When money gets tight I promise to make you fancy ramen. With kindness, selflessness, and trust, I will work by your side to create a wonderful life together.”

Had you done that? You had loved him for sure. Did you cherish him enough? Were you supportive and kind and selfless and trusting? You did your best. You worried now that it hadn’t been enough. And there was no time to fix it. 

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●

Four hours ago Peter returned home early from patrol. You were grading papers and distracted. Suddenly your vision was filled with roses, and you turned to see your adoring husband behind you. 

“Roses? For me?” You held your hand over your heart and released a dramatic gasp. 

“But of course!” He leaned down to give you a kiss on the forehead. You began tearing up. 

“Oh, baby, You shouldn’t have!” Peter, confused by your sudden tears, squatted beside you in your chair to move some hair out of your face. 

“Oh, I definitely should have. It’s the least I can do for my darling. You deserve much more than twelve. More like a hundred, a thousand!” You chuckled at his dramatics. 

“Sounds expensive,” You joked, bringing a hand up to hold his cheek. He leaned into it, pretending to consider it. 

“Hmm, would you settle for five hundred?” You giggled pecking him on the cheek, before getting up to put them in a vase. 

Peter trailed behind you as you made your way to the kitchen. 

“I wanna take you out to dinner tonight.” You placed the vase down and looked at him carefully. 

“Peter Parker, are you asking me out on a date?” One thing that had never changed was how much you guys loved to tease each other. You imagined that you would be in a nursing home swapping quips and the thought warmed your heart. 

Peter walked to you and wrapped his arms around your waist. “Will you make me the luckiest guy in the world and say yes?”

An hour ago you were sitting at a nice restaurant. You hesitated when getting dressed, your baby bump becoming a little harder to hide. You settled on a dress that didn’t hug you too tightly and greeted your husband in the living room. 

Peter assured you that you could have anything you wanted. You had ordered dessert first and when the waiter offered you wine Peter shooed him away so quickly you couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Peter he’s allowed to offer, it’s his job. I’m pretty sure you scared him.” Peter was still glaring daggers at the poor server who had made his way to a different table. 

“Good! You shouldn't offer pregnant people wine, is he crazy?”

You reached across the table to grab his hands, bringing his attention back to you. After hearing what your student said today, Peter realized he was the dumbest person in the world. All the signs were right in front of him, he was just too blind to see them. He would spend the rest of his life making it up to you. 

“I love you (F/n) (M/n) Parker.” You felt pride and love blossom within you, warming your cheeks. 

“I Love y-”

An explosion went off and Peter was quick to his feet. He gave you a look and you nodded knowing what he needed to do. Everyone began to evacuate and you got lost in the sea of people. Once outside you saw the fire in the distance. Suddenly all you could think of was Peter. You ran towards the building seeing Peter battling some dude on a hoverboard. 

Everything happened so quickly. He was thrown to the ground and you heard a snap. You yelled for him and then you heard another explosion, and another, and another. Before you knew it the building in front of you was falling. Coming directly for you and Peter. He was trying to push himself off the ground but he wasn’t moving fast enough. You began to run towards him, to use your body to shield him. You couldn’t lose him, not after everything. 

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●

You felt a hand on your face, wiping at your tears, “Hey, hey! (Y/n) look at me. Open your eyes, come on look at me!” 

You tried your best, but your head hurt and your vision was cloudy. You could make out the soft umber eyes of your lover, filled with tears. His face was covered in grime. You felt enormous pressure taken off of you as you heard rocks tumble to the ground. 

You took a deep shuddery breath, your lungs felt like they were on fire. You tried getting up but Peter gently pushed you down. “No, no, stay there it’s- it’s okay.” 

You tried moving every muscle in your body, but the only one that could move was your left hand. You brought it up to cradle his face. Peter gripped it so hard you thought it might snap. There was blood on his hand and you began to panic. 

“You- your bleeding?” It came out more of a question. A sob racked through his body as he looked at you. You followed his gaze seeing a piece of steel rebar cutting through your stomach. 

You started crying again, “The baby…” 

It was too much. You had a whole future ahead of you. One filled with laughter and Peter chasing around your toddler and Aunt May spoiling them with gifts. One filled with dogpiling in bed because of a nightmare. One filled with you and Peter. 

You heard sirens in the distance. And Peter looked up, a small smile on his face, “It’s gonna be okay, they’re coming.” 

You felt bad leaving him like this but you couldn’t keep fighting to stay. You were tired, you felt heavy, and you wanted to rest. 

“I love you, Peter Parker” Your head rolled to the side too tired to keep it upright. You felt his hand rush to your face lifting it for you. 

“No, no, no! (Y/n)! (Y/n) look at me!” You couldn’t, not anymore. 

Your eyes were too heavy. You gathered everything you had left and squeezed his hand, “I’m sorry.” 

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●

The first thing you remember feeling was a deep pressure in your head. It felt as if your brain had quadrupled in size and now was splitting your skull. Then you felt an itch in your nose, an irritation in your nostrils. Your entire body felt sore but as you focused you felt them moving and contracting, so that’s good. 

You brought a hand up to scratch your nose and felt hard plastic against your fingers. You went to move it but a hand stopped you. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Don’t move that, let me get a doctor.” Her hands were soft, and her cadence was one you recognised well. 

You tried to open your eyes but everything was too bright. You groaned as the fluorescent beams attacked your retinas, bringing your arm up to block them. You felt a twinge in the crook of your elbow and were able to make out an I.V. in your arm. You looked to the door and saw May smile as she flicked the lights off for you, before assuring you she would be right back. 

You took a moment to take in your surroundings. By your bedside table, there were many bouquets of flowers in all shapes, sizes, and colours. As you took around the rest of the room you realised flowers were everywhere around the space. You were surrounded by a small garden, and it brought a small smile to your face. 

Behind the jungle of flora, there was a chair and a small couch made up like a bed. Neither of them looked particularly comfortable. There was a book resting atop the messy sheets but from here you couldn’t see what it was. 

You didn’t get to dwell on it long. You heard a commotion in the hallway. Fast, heavy footsteps approached as several people exclaimed for the offender to slow down. You felt panic rising as you heard the EKG machine beep faster. Your brain conjured up a terrifying scenario in which the ghostly man from before had come to finish you off. 

A silhouette entered the door frame and froze. You both locked eyes, in a state of disbelief. As he stepped closer your heart rate continued to gallop, but instead of fear, you felt love. 

“(Y/N)?” He sounded broken, desperate. You could hear the rasp in his throat and you wondered why his vocal cords were in such a state. 

He moved to your bedside before falling to his knees. His hands wrapped around yours before burying his face in them. You felt the wetness on his face and watched as his shoulders shook. 

“You- you woke up. We didn’t know if you would. I- I thought I lost you. Fuck, I thought I lost you. The doctors said they didn’t know if you were gonna wake up. I thought you were gone.” Words fell from Peter’s mouth like a waterfall. You tried to pull him from the waters before he drowned. 

“Pete, I’m right here.” Your voice was just as wrecked as his, but you knew yours was due to inactivity. “It’s okay, I’m here.”

You squeezed his hands as he continued to sob. Your heart shattered seeing him like this. Peter had been through so much, experienced more loss than any one human should. You felt almost guilty for making him face that fear once again. You brought his hands up and held them to your lips, trying to piece him back together as best as you could. 

May returned with a doctor and Peter refused to step away, forcing the doctor to do his examination around him. You had broken a few bones and you had a concussion but that was expected. They had to perform surgery on your wound, though with rest and plenty of pain meds, you should be fine. 

“I’m sorry to tell you this, but unfortunately, due to the nature of the trauma you endured, your baby did not survive.” Peter held you as you cried together. You knew it was ridiculous to hope that they might, but you couldn’t help it. 

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●

“Peter! Are you almost ready?” You called across the house. 

“Yeah! Just a second!” You heard him call back from the bedroom. 

You were setting up a camera in the living room when you heard him emerge. You gasped as you took in his costume. He was dressed as Jack Sparrow, complete with a wig and hat. 

“Oh, Pete you look great,” You said as you walked over to your beloved husband. He pulled you in close as your hands came up to cradle his face, gracing him with a loving kiss. His grin was blinding as he pulled away. 

“Just wait till you see Benny’s.” He moved to stand beside you as he called out to your son. 

His small frame emerged from the doorway with a dramatic jump and pose. He really was his father’s son. His face was twisted into a silly sneer with his finger curved in the shape of a hook, “Arg!”

You clapped in glee, then bent down with open arms. Ben ran to them and you rested him on your hip. “Oh wow Benny, you look so cool!” 

He had declared that everyone would dress as characters from Pirates of the Caribbean after watching it for the first time a few months ago. Your boys had wanted to surprise you, which meant they had to elicit the help of Aunt May for their costumes. Benny was Davey Jones because he thought he was cool. He wore a beard of stuffed tentacles on his face but you could tell by the scrunch of his eyes he was beaming underneath. 

“You too, Momma!” You tilted his hat up to place a kiss on his forehead. He places his small, gentle hands on your cheeks and you let him angle your head down so he could leave you one there too. 

He wanted Peter to hold him for the photo and reached out for him as you stood in front of your mantle. The camera flashed as you all posed. You pressed the shutter another time as you and Peter smooshed your son’s face with your lips, Ben’s giggle ringing through the air. 

Peter set down Ben and told him to get his candy basket. As soon as Benny made his way down the hall Peter grabbed your waist and the back of your head and dipped you. He brought his lips to yours and you heard the camera shutter go off again. You looked into the eyes of your husband and saw nothing but pure adoration. 

“I love you (F/n) (M/n) Parker.” You grinned. 

“I love you, Peter Benjamin Parker.” He pulled you into another kiss. 

“Ew!” You broke away from each other, laughing at your son covering his eyes.

Peter lifted you back up before crouching low and scooping up your child, hanging him upside down as he tickled his sides. “No, you’re ew!”

You chuckled as they seemed lost in their own little world for a moment. You hated to interrupt it, but you caught a glimpse of the clock. 

“Alright boys, we have to leave now if we wanna catch May before she goes to sleep.” Peter sighed setting down Ben. 

You watched as Benny put his pudgy hand in Peters, “Come on, Daddy. I wanna see Gamma.” 

Peter smiled wide as he allowed his son to pull him to the door, “Yeah, let’s go see Gamma.”

They took a few steps forward before Peter stopped, extending his hand to you. You placed your hand in his as you walked to the door. You rested your other hand on your stomach, wishing the little one inside you could hear this. That they knew they would be loved, so loved. You hoped they knew how amazing their father was. 

Tag List: @andrews-lovr, @heejinw0rld, @invisibletrolleyson-jeremy, @negasonic-teenage-asshole, @preciousbabypeter, @princesskittycatofmeowland, @rudy-the-winged-wolf, @scorpiolystoned, @wannapizzamymindposts, @whoreforklitz,

I think I finally got all of my tags sorted but if you think a mistake was made please dm me or fill out the tag list form linked in my masterlist. (I really suggest you look at the masterlist bc it sorts it easier and you get more options)

[dairy-farmer]

heard that proship spaces aren't safe for minors yet there are some minors that are proshippers? fandom is so crazy oh my god. the misconceptions of shipping and being a proshipper.

people specifically saying proship spaces are unsafe for minors makes zero sense because anti-spaces are just as unsafe, if not more, due to the culture that revolves around shaming people for their interests and forcing others to apologize for those interests/their existence, experiences, and traumas.

the only spaces that are actually dangerous for minors are those where predators are present and able to engage with them. which is literally all of them. predators can be anywhere and anyone not just in "proship spaces" where people have deemed everyone inside is a pervert. they can be in churches, they can be in schools, playgrounds, they can be in the most holy, wholesome, and pure place an anti could imagine because someone being predatory has everything to do with who THEY are rather than the space they occupy.

and minors absolutely can be proship because there's this misconception that everything proship is lewd or obscene when all it means is not believing in harassment because of their fictional interests. and minors also have the right to not want to be harrassed because of stupid shit like liking hero x villain tropes??? there is literally no pleasing antis. they change what is problematic at the drop of a hat. i once saw a convo where an anti was saying shipping mixed race pairings was racist when THEY were the ones being racist for saying people should only date within their race. it's all bullshit and they only want a rush of superiority at thinking they won online arguments with some 6th grade rebuttals they stole from another anti's equally as pathetic tweet. there's no convincing them. not with psychology, logic, not with words from actual therapists, not with actual nonprofit organizations/governments telling them 'a drawing and words is not a person: stop submitting these false requests for investigations into their creators and wasting resources that could be used to help real people'.

antis changing the meanings of proship and shipping culture is their only way at being "right" because they are irrevocably wrong. if they can make proshippers look bad enough they think people new to fandom will automatically join their side because who wouldn't want to side against a supposed group of 'pedos' and 'groomers'? but antis mess up one vital thing and its that they hate themselves almost as badly as they hate proshippers and so inevitably they drive people away with the toxicity, hatred, constant 'call out' posts about other antis, and constantly changing standards for what is 'okay' and what isn't (spoiler: everything isn't okay until an anti with a lot of twitter followers says it is and, like sheep, they'll act like that had always been the case).

[bisexualsdeservebetter]

As a bisexual in a heterosexual relationship I’ve been feelings so unwelcome by lesbians (won’t even begin how male centered the lgbtq is becoming too) and anyone that is queer but not dating a cishet person.

I’m on twitter (I know smh) and there has been alot of disgust with us bi women dating men and how were less valid. And I know cishet males in pride has raised a lot of eyebrows with how some were there and groped lesbians etc… but not all of straight males are evil for going to pride. Some are questioning, some er closeted, some are allies or dating a queer person.

WHY IS THERE SO MUCH HATE??

I mean I think there's so much hate for cishet males because a very large percentage of them behave extremely poorly around women & LGBT people as well as lesbians being understandably angry over how male centric the LGBT community is, like you said.

As for brining a cishet partner to pride events, I really think it depends on the event as to if it's okay or not. A parade? Yeah whatever, that's a huge public spectacle, I don't really care if people's supportive cishet friend/family member/partner goes with them so long as that person is well behaved and respectful and knows the event is not about them. But if it's not a public event or if it's an event meant for a certain demographic (ex. an event meant for lesbians and bi women specifically) then I would not say it's okay to bring a cishet partner to that event.

As for feeling unwelcome by lesbians, I am sorry you're feeling that way and I know it can be difficult to navigate one's own bisexuality & connection to the community when in a straight relationship. However, I really dislike how so many people seem to behave as if the approval of random lesbians is what determines someone's validity/belonging. I understand your frustration and I know it can be really difficult to feel like you're being excluded, but I'm going to say the same thing to you that I feel should be said to a lot of people:

Leave lesbians alone.

I don't mean like avoid them or don't talk to them, I mean don't act like they are required to approve of you and your relationship. There is always going to be a lesbian that doesn't like you, and for some reason that's extremely difficult for a lot of people to handle. You have to learn to deal with the fact that some lesbians are primarily interested in community with other lesbians and/or same-sex partnered bi women, and a very high number of lesbians have no interest in being around straight men at events meant for LGBT people. Many many many lesbians have been victimized in some way by straight men - and I don't mean to imply bi women aren't victimized as well, but I'm talking about lesbians right now - and I think it's completely fair for a lesbian to be uncomfortable around a random straight man she doesn't know.

We all saw the man vs bear thing didn't we? It seems a considerable number of women of any sexuality are uncomfortable around a man they don't know. Unfortunately a lot of men are in fact poorly behaved at best and pose a threat to the safety of women, especially women with other intersections of oppression like a lesbian or a black woman.

If you want to bring your straight boyfriend to pride events, then I'm sorry but you need to understand that a lof of people - lesbians especially - are not going to be okay with that.

Dating a man doesn't make you any less bisexual of course, and I'm sorry that people are questioning the validity of your sexuality based on the fact that you're dating a man. Biphobia is never okay. You're allowed to date whoever you please so long as they're a consenting adult and it doesn't change the fact that you're bisexual, and you belong in the LGBT community.

[pink-strawberry-kissess]

Hello, what do you think about the aeon animation that is on YouTube. Why is there so much drama on Twitter, both the Aeon fans and the Cleon fans also got involved. For the Reldfield lineage jokes and Racism for ada. The animator aeon turns out to be Asian too. I don't know, I don't like jokes either, but he said he was going to change it later when he saw the drama there was (I hope). And I don't feel sorry for him either because I see that he gave him love and contract loudly, and he got a lot of hate and people were very bad with their words on Twitter, which I fear will discourage him a little and he won't do anything. more things related to aeon, and leads to something worse, suicide. Because I know of cases like this in fandon.

okay this is a long response incoming (talks about misogyny and racism)

so i wanna preface that i did watch the animation and i did watch their response video and i did see a BIT of the "backlash" on twitter and while im not active on twitter (i just lurk) i did see a few of the main complaints/criticisms/hate but i also saw LOTS of praise and people who enjoyed the animation

i don't know anything about cleon fans getting involved so i won't say anything there since i didn't see any of that

from what i could tell (and im just assuming and inferring) that the creator is asian AND from asia. and the only reason why i'm pointing this out is because there's already going to be a disparity between how we understand what it means to be racist and misogynistic and how HE understands it to mean. and that's not already including how some of his sentiments are very conservative in thinking "being a gentleman etc" you can still be a misogynist while "being a gentlemen"

the main point of contention was the "this is not racist and not misogynistic because this is comedy and i am also asian"

so i'm breaking down my three things

while i don't think it was overtly racist, the "joke" of chris calling Ada a "chinese woman," isn't incorrect but is rooted in a derogatory manner. when someone for example is east asian and making this "joke," it can run flat or not come across as funny anymore because we've literally heard this "joke" for over a decade. (lots of asian comedians make self deprecating jokes or comedy about being asian, this is fine IF THE JOKE WORKS)

misogyny is an IDEOLOGY and i don't believe that EVERYONE is a misogynist but EVERYONE is CAPABLE of having misogynist mindsets, theories, ideals, and more. i think that it's very easy for people online to throw the word misogynist when someone else points out behaviour that they don't like or perceive as innappropriate. while i personally wouldn't call the creator a misogynist, i would just mention that calling oneself "old fashioned" and "a gentleman" doesn't excuse you from potentially having misogynist mindsets.

the styles of comedy is so vast at this point and whereas some comedians had grown their audiences over overtly offensive and racist material, a lot of these comedians are well.. dead. or their comedy has died or their routines are just not used anymore. i don't think there's ALWAYS something wrong with offensive material, (people make offensive jokes but are still funny sometimes) but it's GOTTA LAND. comedy is ONLY the excuse and can work if it WORKS. and i don't know how many times i can "laugh" at (the bloodline) joke. (it was once.)

now to bring all three points in. the bloodline "joke" is rooted in misogyny and racism. the idea of having claire be bound to this extension of a bloodline is an extremely old and pointless theory that all MAN needs to have their bloodline continue. imma be honest - no one is important enough to have a kid or a legacy. the "joke" is also usually paired with chris calling ada just a chinese woman or making some sort of remark on how he would "make claire chinese" in some capacity so that leon would date her. and this furthers the sexualization of asian people and whole "leon has a fetish for asian people" which i thought was only funny cause he asked shen may out for dinner, but i still hold the opinion that he was just asking for food lmao)

while i don't think the creator handled the criticism/hate 100% appropriately. (the video response was a bit 2010s tumblr era wow i can't believe you guys don't understand my humour) i do appreciate that they are taking some time away for their mental health and i do think everyone needs to step away occasionally just to like - be normal and not online

and i do appreciate that they are taking some of the response into consideration (rewriting the story a bit since apparently this change is necessary from the previous story they had) i'm not gonna lie, if every single episode was just aeon people cute and chris doing the EXACT SAME JOKE, it was going to get OLD REALLY FAST.

i'll be honest, there aren't a lot of re content creators that focus on aeon and i do think we as a community need to lift others up. and while you may not agree with every single sentiment that the other person makes, you shouldn't just cast aside the entire creator because of a singular thing they did

do i like the joke? no. i've never really liked the joke. to be completely honest i skipped over chris' part entirely because i felt as though the "joke" didn't land and i've seen it a million times. it's not funny, it doesn't add anything, it's a literal plot device because the creator "wanted something funny" but it didn't WORK.

tl;dr

i don't like the "joke," i don't think it's funny.

[nojey]

reminiscing (fans 2)

dreamwastaken x streamer!reader

genre: angst pronouns: they / them word count: 2.1k warning(s): failed relationship, cursing

fans (part 1)

synopsis: after taking 6 months off from social media, you finally explain to your fans why you took so long and why you needed it.

go live. *click*

you watched as your chat strolled in and viewer count go up. your computer screen illuminating your face in the dark room as your webcam caught the nervous look. you were shaking your leg up and down, a habit you caught whenever you tried to calm yourself down. 

“hi everyone, it’s been a while since my last stream, huh?” you dryly chuckled. “it’s been about.. 6 months since i last streamed and at this point i think i’ve taken enough time to correctly word how i’m going to tell everyone why i decided to take a break from streaming.” you said looking down at the ground and fiddling with your fingers.

“uh, donation notifications will be off for this stream and chat will be on emotes only because i really just want to focus on getting this out. but if you plan on donating, thank you so much, really, it means the world to me.” you said finally looking at your webcam and smiling a bit. you read a chat and answer, “yes, i’m doing okay. i just have a big announcement i want to say after i tell you guys why i took a break.”

you took a deep breath in and started. “ over a year ago, almost 2, i met this guy through a friend and we started talking. it was very little at the beginning but as little as it was, his texts always made me smile.” you scratched the back of your neck. “and as time went on, we started talking more and more and he just became part of my daily routine. when i woke up i’d see a good morning text from him, we’d spend most of our day being on the phone with each other, i was even on facetime with him most of my streams but i had an airpod under my headset so you couldn’t really see it, i almost always fell asleep on facetime with him. i really fell for this guy.” you fondly smiled, looking at your desk, where your phone used to be propped up and you would see clays face just looking at you.

“then we started streaming together. ‘omg he’s a streamer too’ yeah, and a lot of you probably know who i’m talking about at this point but i still won’t disclose who it is. i uh, got a lot of messages from you guys telling me that i looked super happy that stream and i was. i was always happy when i talked to him. but along with those messages i also got a lot of hate, telling me to stay away from him. it didn’t really bother me because i always get hate when i stream with my guy friends; i was used to it.” you said, taking a sip from your water then wiping the side of your eye as it teared up. 

“and today... i’ll be going on the dream smp! with the man himself, dream. dream, say hi now.” you introduced, you waited a few seconds but was only met with silence. you grabbed your phone and sent him a voice message, “clay! you’re on deafen! introduce yourself!” you screamed into your phone. dream then took himself off deafen and said. “hi (y/s/n)’s chat! i’m dream, i’ll be showing (y/n) around the smp today and we’re gonna get started on their house.” you smiled fondly when you heard him speak. “yeah! what dream said!” 

so you both logged into the dream smp, said hi to sapnap, and dream gave you a tour. you then started building your house in a forest, quite far from everyone else, “i don’t want anyone bothering you or ruining your house when you’re not on.” he explained. you told dream you wanted to build a cottage so if anyone does end up stumbling upon it, it looks welcoming to them. so dream started building your house for you even though you insisted you do it together. “dream! let me help, this is supposed to be my house.” you dragged. “well we can both decorate inside and make it our house.” you started blushing. “i guess..” you mumbled. you then started adventuring out to look for flowers and some things to decorate the house with.

you started placing flowers down into flower pots when you noticed something. “dream there’s only one bedroom.” you mentioned. he slowly turned around to look at you and quickly turned back and placed two beds next to each other. “this is our room, dumbass.”

later that night you checked your twitter dms and saw many people telling you to stop talking to dream and that you weren’t good enough to even know him. you sighed and powered down your phone.

“i think a few weeks after that he asked me if i could fly out to him and we’d meet in person. i was so excited i immediately started packing and i met him. it was amazing! i got to meet the guy i’ve been in love with for the past few months. i think it may have been a year already. but yeah, i finally got to meet him and being in his arms was the best feeling in the world, i felt so safe being with him.”

“it was the day after that, when he asked me on a date and i, of course, said yes. like who would say no to the person they fell in love with... so we went on a date and at the end of it we were just sitting on top of the hood of the car, eating dinner, watching the sunset and talking about a future we wanted together. and it may seem like we were moving fast but i knew 7 months into talking to him that he felt the same way about me. no matter if either of us disclosed it. i could tell and i knew he knew the same about me. then i went home and everything was perfect, i wasn’t his girlfriend yet though because we wanted to wait a bit.”

“that’s when everything went downhill, i think” you looked up to try to stop the tears from going down your face, but they fell anyways so you just let it be.

“we started streaming more and more and i started getting more hate than i usually got, this time getting death threats, people threatening to leak my address if i didn’t stop being friends with him. it was crazy but i was willing to endure it all for him. who cares what people on the internet are going to say to me? i really didn’t because i was happy enough with him that, that happiness overcame whatever type of hate i was getting.” tears kept falling from your eyes but you didn’t bother to wipe it, knowing it would just keep happening.

“dude you’re so annoying! you definitely cheated!” you screamed as you died. through your headset you could hear clay wheezing. “there was no way i was cheating!” he said through his laughs. “ask my chat, they saw the whole thing.” you breathed out, not wanting to believe him till a dono was sent to you, “yeah, (y/n) you just suck at this game,” you gasped, your jaw hanging then you started pouting. it was clipped and one of your viewers sent it to dream. he suddenly started laughing harder and you asked him why he was laughing, with a pout still on your face. “even your chat knows i didn’t cheat!” you started laughing too, till you read a message in the chat saying, “ew, their laugh is ugly. i don’t know why dream likes them.” you stopped laughing but kept a fake smile on your face.

“then he called me and he told me that he didn’t think we should be dating anymore, or even be friends. and i think it was because he saw the hate i was getting and he didn’t like that. he told me a different reason as to why he didn’t think we should date anymore but i didn’t believe it, but i let him go. because i was not going to force him to be with me if he really did mean it. “ you said, sniffling after so you didn’t sound too congested as you spoke.

after you hung up, you curled into a ball and cried. you cried, and cried, and cried. the feeling in your chest hurting more than you could ever imagine. you just lost the guy you wanted to marry, the guy you had spent over a year going to because of your problems, the guys you saw having kids with, the guy that made everything worth it. he was the only person on your mind as the pain in your chest grew. you tweeted and powered your phone off straight after. you didn’t want anyone messaging you asking what was wrong, knowing your friends they would do that. 

“so the reason i took a break from streaming was because of that. because i resented the people that sent me hate so much i couldn’t bring myself to stream. i didn’t resent them because they sent me hate. i resent them because the hate they sent me caused the guy i really wanted to be with to make me believe he didn’t love me like i love him.” now, you were sobbing, letting your cry’s out because you had been holding them in for too long. 

it had been a few months and you were on snapchat, seeing that you had a memory a year ago today, you checked it. “i think i literally met my soulmate.” with a picture of you and clay in a discord call. your breath got caught in your throat and your breathing became labored. your eyes started stinging as the tears started falling. it’s happening again, all the pain from the day you stopped talking to him came back and once again, you were crying into your hands and you couldn’t stop.

“i had always known that becoming a streamer i would get hate, but i never thought that i would get enough hate to prevent a relationship i really wanted to work. now all i do is reminisce of a guy i wish could be mine”

“streaming has brought me so many opportunities and i am so grateful for everything you guys have done for me, and for me to be able to do something i love and make money from it is insane to me. you guys have given me everything i ever wanted in life up until that point and i am so grateful and appreciative of that. you guys gave me friendships that i will never lose and never forget. so many of you have told me that i’ve saved you and changed your lives but trust me when i say you guys have saved me and changed my life too. i hope i repaid you back by making you smile, being your comfort streamer, and being a support system for each of you. but i think this is my end of the road. i fucking love streaming, i love you guys. but every time i click that “go live” button or even try to, all i think about is him and that’s too painful for me right now. maybe in the future i’ll find my way back here but i can’t promise that.”

“thank you guys, so, so, so, so, much for every single opportunity given to me, for everything. i love you all. my dms are still open. and this was (y/s/n), signing off for possibly the last time. goodbye everyone.”

end stream. *click*

a tear rolling down his face and falling onto his keyboard as he watched you finally say goodbye to your stream. it all just felt like you were saying your last goodbye to him again. 

for the last 6 months all clay could do was think about you and how he wished he just messaged you and told you he was sorry and didn’t mean what he said. that he misses you and he would quit streaming if that meant he could be with you. that all he wanted was to feel you in his arms again and just live out the future you two planned together. 

but if you just said goodbye to your chat for your last stream because you couldn’t stand the thought of him whenever you tried to stream. how could you ever forgive him?

the thought of never speaking to you hit him once more and again, he cried, sobbed, screamed, threw things, and even then, he knew.. you would never be coming back to him, with every fiber in his being, wishing you would.

—————

taglist: @loxbbg @bozowrites @noahsfag @sparklykeylime @bi-narystars @axths @cheybaee @letsloveimagines @meatte @julesamen21 @classyunknownlover @bad268 @strawbrinkofdeath

[sevlgi]

what we want

requested: yes x2

group: blackpink

pairing: jennie x fem!reader

genre: angst, fluff

contents: idol!jennie, idol!reader, pr relationship

warnings: none

synopsis: Jennie’s lost herself somewhere along the way of achieving her dream. Behind that tough, cruel mask of hers, she doesn’t know what she wants, and maybe uncovering the mask you wear is what will help her realize it.

a/n: this is so much heavier than either of you guys asked for asalknasdfkj... but i wrote my longest fic yet in less than 2 days!!!! i think that’s an achievement :D

word count: 6k

Kim Jennie did not have a good reputation, and she didn’t really give a shit about it.

At least, that’s what everyone thought. That’s what everyone knew, with the numerous articles a week about South Korea’s resident fuckgirl, with Dispatch’s 20 cameramen hired just to follow Jennie. She was careless, she was cold, and she care what anyone else said about her. 

What no one cared about was Jennie’s reasoning. Because while the first time sneaking out to a club and losing herself in fruit-flavored shots and skimming touches was simply for the fun of it, it was the aftereffect that made her keep going. Because with the articles of Kim Jennie’s newest scandal, Blackpink’s album sales shot through the roof, YG’s stocks completely flipped around, and Jennie herself decided it was worth it. It didn’t matter if her members looked at her a little differently, like they didn’t recognize her, or if she was the only one constantly excluded from appreciation tweets on Twitter. If acting out would help promote them more than her agency ever did, she could do it.

And she did. For almost a year, Jennie became Kpop’s most well-known idol, for better or for worse. For almost a year, Blackpink’s sales were unmatched by any group or artist around the world and Jennie couldn’t read her Instagram comments without wanting to throw up. 

It took a year for YGE to finally do something, and by then, Jennie wasn’t sure she particularly cared anymore.

“Jennie.”

“Youngshik.” Her voice was scarily steady and her face just as calm; Jennie knew that the her from ten years ago, the teenager who was accepted into the company under Youngshik’s watch, wouldn’t be able to recognize her as she sat before the man with crossed arms and a blank expression. But as he stared at her with disappointment glazing his eyes, Jennie lifted her chin higher, almost daring him to speak.

When he did, he sounded almost cautious of his words. “Jennie, I know you. This isn’t like you at all, you can’t carry on like this.”

“What do you know about me?” She had to keep herself from wincing at her own tone, sharp enough to draw blood. “Huh? You haven’t cared about me for the past year, haven’t cared about us. And who the fuck said I can’t carry on? I’m doing just fine.”

Youngshik shook his head. “Please. Ch-- your members know. I know. All you may see right now is the attention you’re gaining, the fleeting ecstasy you get every night, but you aren’t doing yourself any favors right now.”

As much as she hated it, Youngshik’s words cut deep. She wanted to scream out that she was doing this for her members, for the company, and that it didn’t matter what her reputation was like, but Jennie schooled herself into the person everyone believed and knew her to be. “I’m the only thing keeping you afloat right now. You’re wasting them-- Chaeng, Lisa, Jisoo. They keep practicing but you waste them. I’m only doing what you won’t,” Jennie defended herself, anger seeping into her voice at the thought of her members.

“Jennie. MNet has threatened to drop you from the next season of Queendom.” The man’s voice was quiet but deadly, and Jennie couldn’t seem to open her mouth at the thought of her members’ practice being wasted because of her. Youngshik took that as a sign to continue, “I realize that what you’re doing is increasing sales, but netizens hate you right now. You know that, don’t you? We’re trying to help.”

“Oh yeah? How’re you going to help?” Jennie sighed. “Lock me up in your dungeon again?”

“Quite the opposite,” he answered, leaning forward. “We’re going to keep you in check. The only thing that Dispatch likes more than clubbing scandals is leaked couples, and that’s what we’re going to give them.”

She crossed her arms and leaned back. “And how is that going to keep me in check? Dispatch already knows I like girls, giving me a well-behaved boyfriend isn’t going to be believable.’

Just as the words left her mouth, a knock sounded on the frosted glass pane in Youngshik’s office door, and the man stood. “You’ll see once you meet her.”

Her?

Jennie didn’t turn even when she heard the door open, or when Youngshik murmured, “Junho, thank you for coming.”

“Of course. This is her?”

“This is her. Jennie?”

She finally turned, face impassive, but Jennie couldn’t stop her eyes from widening when she saw the person standing in the doorway. You-- she recognized you, specifically the polite smile you wore on your face as you offered a handshake. She remembered hearing you be praised for your constant professionalism, your sterling reputation, and your bubbly personality. “Hi, I’m Y/N. I’m a big fan of yours.”

“Jennie Kim, but I’m assuming you already knew that,” she said by way of greeting. You nearly winced at her flat tone, but the mask remained on and you gingerly took the empty seat just by her. “So. Am I the only one in the dark here?”

“Not anymore,” Junho smiled. Unlike Youngshik, he looked pleasant, a smile crinkling at the side of his eyes, but Jennie disliked him nonetheless. “The two of you know by now that you’re being set up in a fake relationship. Jennie, YGE’s main concern with you is your reputation. You club, you drink, you... sleep with people.”

She simply nodded, waiting for the point. Youngshik jumped in, “Y/N, on the other hand, has a stellar reputation. Never has had a scandal in her career, except when she publicly came out, and even that had a good reception.”

“How nice,” Jennie deadpanned.

Junho sighed, folding his hands in his lap. “Miss Kim. Despite your shortcomings and the methods that you achieved such fame, you are nonetheless the most well known female idol in the world. From this relationship, you’ll gain stability as well as a cover, a perfectly sweet girlfriend who’ll lighten your image up. And Y/N will receive more attention by your side, exactly what we want for her and her group. Is that clear?”

Jennie wished she could say no-- after all, you obviously weren’t going to-- but she also knew that the two men were right. She could profit, achieve exactly what she was trying to do, but with less damage done to Blackpink’s image. And as much as she wished she could rebel, she found herself sighing through tightened lips. “Clear. I agree.”

“You didn’t exactly have a choice.” Still, Youngshik slid a contract and a pen across the table, and Jennie signed in the blank without a second glance. “Good. Though we realize that this relationship is fake, we want you to at least pretend to be in love, so get to know each other. It’ll be a while.”

“Great,” you sighed. Jennie was slightly surprised by the hint of sarcasm in your voice, but she lost interest when you assumed a polite smile yet again. “How do we do that?”

Junho exchanged a glance with Youngshik but answered by himself, “If it was me, I’d start with a coffee.”

“Can I order something for you?”

“I’m good.”

Your smile was tight, and Jennie wondered how many snide comments she could make before you snapped. But apparently, one wasn’t enough, as you tugged your mask up. “Okay. I’ll get something for you when you feel like it, just wait for me in that booth.”

Without something to argue about, Jennie could only obey, sliding into the booth furthest away from any people. She sighed, staring at the ceiling; she hated that you were being pushed into the contract to save her, and she hated even more that she was purposefully being so difficult for you to deal with. But the truth was that Jennie couldn’t let you keep her in check, couldn’t let you get under her skin or change her from the way that she had been for years. No matter what YGE said, she was succeeding, and she wasn’t having the worst time in the world while she did.

“Uh. I got you a green juice, I hope you don’t mind.”

Jennie stared at you as you slid the bottle over the table to her, removing your mask just to flash her an annoyingly sweet smile. “I didn’t ask for it.”

You shrugged, “Oh, I know. But I read somewhere that you liked green juices, and I didn’t feel right letting you- letting my girlfriend go without a drink.”

“Don’t call me that.” Jennie cleared her throat when she realized how cruel she sounded, and rephrased it softer. “Don’t.”

“Okay. I understand,” you mumbled, clasping your hands over the iced Americano you held. “So. When did we start dating?” When Jennie frowned in confusion, you clarified, “We’re supposed to have a believable, synced story, right? To seem more real?”

The other girl bit her lip but nodded in agreement. “You’re right. Would two months be enough?”

Jennie wanted to tell you to stop pursing your lips when you thought, wanted to make you stop looking so approachable and sweet when you were sitting across from the most-hated idol in Korea. But she shut herself up, if only not to offend someone who she’d be spending a lot of time with. “I think so. We could say that we met at the Gayo Daejeon, since that was three months ago. I asked for your number,” you hummed and pulled out a notepad. “And a month after becoming friends, you asked me on a date.”

“Why did I ask you on a date?” Jennie asked, eyebrows raised. 

“I asked for your number, let’s keep it fair,” you answered with a slight chuckle. “Okay. What would you want to do on a date?”

She considered the question, tapping her nails against the table. “The Han River? Lots of people go in masks, so it’s possible for us to have gone without anyone seeing us. There’s food, nice scenery, we could take pictures--”

“You’re a real romantic, Kim Jennie,” you smiled, pen scratching against the paper of your notepad. “Okay. And we don’t live with each other, since you have a dorm... one of us has to be caught on the route between to make it believable.”

“I don’t think we have to.” Jennie crossed her arms, not moving even when you turned your notepad so she could see. “We just need to be seen in public together a couple times, hold hands once. Dispatch will eat it up.”

You sighed softly and tucked the notebook away. “Okay. At-- at least add me on Kakao. So we can communicate and stuff.”

She stood, tugging her jacket on and her hat down to hide her eyes. “Don’t have Kakao. Have a nice day, Y/N Y/L/N.”

And just like that, with a jingle of the front door’s bell, she was gone, and you could only stare at the untouched bottle of juice across from you or the glass door swinging closed.

Jennie liked practicing with her members. Of course she did-- there was no one she loved more than those 3 girls, and spending time with them was always exactly what she needed. And practice reminded her of better, simpler times: learning a new choreo with Lisa for the next evaluation, practicing English with Chaeng, or asking Jisoo for help with vocals. There were memories in the scratches on the floorboards of the practice rooms, and Jennie liked feeling them every time she stepped inside.

But besides that, it was a secure place. No Dispatch, no cameras, and certainly no PR stunt girlfriends. It was supposed to be her happy place, her home away from the dorm, and the last resort for time alone.

Of course, you had to change that.

“Jennie, Y/N’s here to see you.”

At the sound of her manager’s voice, Jennie’s ankle twisted and she fell to the ground, still panting from dancing. Jisoo bent down to help her up, Chaeyoung and Lisa stopping their practices too. “What?”

He raised an eyebrow, tilting his head towards the hallway outside. “Your ‘girlfriend’. She’s here to see you.”

Lisa gasped at that, her head whipping towards Jennie. “Jennie unnie! You have a girlfriend? Since when?”

Jennie winced and waved Jisoo off before walking towards the door. “I... I’ll explain later. Don’t worry about it, keep practicing. I’ll catch up.”

As soon as she stepped outside, she found you standing there, your smile so wide, as if she hadn’t been so cold to you since the beginning. “Hi, Jennie.”

“Why’re you here?” 

You barely faltered at the tone of her voice, holding out one of two bubble teas towards her. “I brought you boba, I thought you might need a rest from practicing. And don’t worry, Dispatch got the pictures they needed, I ‘forgot’ to put on a mask when I got out of the car just outside the building.”

Jennie sighed, but she accepted the offered cup anyway. She was thirsty; all she could hope was that you wouldn’t take it as a sign to keep coming to see her. “And? I thought we agreed that we only needed to be seen in public when our companies schedule it.”

“Well, I’m not just here for the PR,” you frowned. “You’re obviously opposed to actually dating me, or even from becoming friends with me, but it’ll be miserable if we’re both mean to each other. Let’s at least be civil, okay?”

Why? she wanted to ask. How? How can you be so positive even when faced with me? She pursed her lips, taking a sip of the drink. Somehow, you’d gotten her favorite flavor just right, and maybe the sugar rushing in her blood was what prompted her to say, “Civil. Sure. Thank you for the boba, Y/N.”

“Of course!” you grinned. You startled Jennie when you went to take your flannel off, even more so when you reached out to give it to her. “Here, take this.”

“Um. Why?”

Sighing jokingly, you pressed it into her hand. “Next time, you’re coming to see me. If you wear this while you’re caught on film, it’ll raise a lot of suspicions. Exactly what we want, right?”

Jennie nodded at that, closing her fist around the fabric. “Right. So, are you... planning to watch us practice?”

“Oh, no,” you shook your head, waving your hands. “No, I’ll probably just hang around. Unless you want me to?”

Some tiny, annoying section in the back of her mind wanted to say ‘yes’, but Jennie could hear Chaeyoung laughing in the practice room, and the thought of introducing you to her members wasn’t exactly appealing. “No. That’s okay. Thank you for stopping by,” she attempted a smile. Thankfully, you just bowed and waved goodbye again before turning around the corner, and Jennie relaxed with a sigh.

But your smile lingered in her mind. The first time she saw you, she thought it was genuine-- maybe you were just that polite, just that professional, even with how impossible it was. But talking to you on her own, she saw too many false grins, too much effort being put into keeping that likeable, fun personality up.

Perhaps she wasn’t the only one who was lying, but that fact did nothing but scare her more. 

“So. Are we gonna talk about Y/N?”

Jennie sighed, keeping her eyes on the road. “No.”

“Really? Because you didn’t exactly look happy after talking to the person who’s supposed to be your girlfriend.”

The rapper raised her eyebrows even though Jisoo couldn’t see it over the phone. “Well, she isn’t exactly my real girlfriend.”

In the background, Chaeyoung asked, “What? Then why did our manager say she was?”

“It’s a PR stunt,” Jennie said bluntly. Her manager sighed in the front seat but didn’t speak. “That’s it. Y/N has a good reputation, I don’t. I’m in the biggest girl group in the world, she isn’t. We’re benefiting from each other.”

Lisa groaned into the phone, her voice tinny over speaker. “Is that seriously it? I only heard you guys talking, but she’s trying so hard, and you’re shutting her down. It could be good for you, unnie.”

Jennie pinched her nosebridge and pleaded, “Can we please not talk about this? I’m just doing this-- it’s a PR stunt. Nothing else to it. I gotta go anyway.” She ended the call before anyone could say something, leaning back and pressing her hands to her eyes.

“I don’t understand why you’re so opposed to this, Jennie.”

“Please. Shut up,” Jennie groaned, reaching for the flannel on her lap as the car lurched a stop. The smell of perfume swept over her as she tugged the clothing on, leaving her mask off but donning the sunglasses that she’d been paid to wear. “Thank you for driving me, I’ll see you in half an hour.”

Her manager called out, “One hour. Try to have fun, okay?”

It wasn’t like Jennie couldn’t hear the click of cameras following her as she buzzed herself into the apartment building, couldn’t see the flashes half-hidden in the surrounding bushes. But she schooled her expression and let herself into the building, engulfed in silence once again for the 7 minutes before she reached your apartment door.

“Hi, Jennie,” you greeted when you opened the door. It was disarming to see that perfectly crafted, perfectly kind expression, but Jennie followed you inside anyway.  To be honest, the way you decorated your apartment was almost a perfect reflection of the you that you presented-- sweet, comfortable, but a completely blank slate that could be arranged easily. No pictures decorated the walls, just like how your easy smile never left your face, and the only things on your expensive glass shelves were awards and your own albums. But you smiled, “The flannel looks good on you.”

“Thanks. You can have it back,” Jennie mumbled, peeling it off and draping it over one of the acrylic chairs that tastefully decorated your living room. “It’s a nice place. You’re lucky to live alone.”

You hummed, clearing a pile of papers off the couch so that she could sit. “Sure, I guess. It’s a lot lonelier than the dorm, but it is nice to have all the space to myself.”

“Right.” She sat obediently and accepted the petite cup of coffee that you pushed towards her. “So, what are we supposed to do for an hour?”

“I thought we could watch Netflix and grab some takeout,” you chuckled embarrassedly, reaching for the remote. “I can’t really cook, but I’ll pay for anything you want to order.”

Jennie should’ve asked for pizza, jajangmyeon, something inexpensive but universally enjoyable. But the more she looked at you, the more she realized that for all your effort, nothing she did could possibly break you. Making dinnner for you once, even becoming friends with you and pulling away again, wouldn’t change anything when everything she saw of you was... false. So she stood, made her way to the kitchen, and opened to the fridge. “I can cook. What have you got?”

“Oh, you don’t have to,” you protested and followed her over. “I’m serious, I can pay for anything you want.”

The rapper ignored you and frowned at a tub of kimchi. “How does kimchi jigae sound? You’ve got close to nothing in here.”

You were silent for a moment, but sighed and moved to open your cupboards. “Kimchi jigae sounds great. You’re going to be carrying this dinner, I hope you know.”

“That’s no problem,” Jennie chuckled, turning to you slightly. “By the way, have you got any soju?”

“I thought you’d have a better alcohol tolerance.”

“Why?” Jennie groaned, head clutched in her hands. The steam from the cup of coffee that she convinced Chaeyoung to buy for her was absolutely going to melt her makeup, but under the LED lights of the waiting room, she wasn’t sure she cared.

Lisa sighed and patted her shoulder softly as she passed by. “I mean, wasn’t there a month where you went to a different club every night? It’d be weird if you did that completely sober.”

Jennie frowned; she wished she could tell Lisa that she actually spent every night of that month huddled in the corner with a mocktail, hoping to the heavens that Dispatch didn’t burst their way inside and find her hiding. But she shook it off and replied flippantly, “Drinking a lot doesn’t increase everyone’s tolerance, believe it or not. Maybe Y/N just had really strong soju.”

Before the dancer could respond, Jisoo opened the door and popped her head inside. “Hey, guys, they’re ready for us to start filming. And, Jen-- you have a visitor.”

“Who?” she groaned in answer, struggling to her feet and wincing as she removed her sunglasses.

Her question was answered as she reached the stage, finding a familiar face among the camera directors. “Y/N?” she squinted.

“Hey, Jennie!” you shouted with your hands cupped around your mouth. The smile on your face was a little wider than usual, poked into your cheeks differently. It was pretty, Jennie realized, and more genuine. “Good luck!”

Before she could ask what you were doing, huddling with the cameramen while she prepared to film her first Queendom stage, she was called up on stage. But for once, Jennie could feel a smile tugging at her lips as she got into formation, a smile that she hadn’t been able to pull off for a while.

You startled her by cheering her name just before filming began, and inciting laughter from the crew. Some warm flower blossomed in her chest as Jennie spoke her first line, her voice more steady than it had ever been during practice.

As soon as she finished the first attempt at the group shot, Jennie bent down at the edge of the stage and beckoned you forward. “Hey. What’re you doing here?”

“I’m cheering you on, of course.” Jennie found a banner with her name on it in your hands as you approached, the tip of your nose cold from the air-con in the studio. “You did great.”

“Thanks,” she chuckled softly, feeling the banner between her fingertips. “Where’d you even get this?”

You shrugged, “Bought it. I had to make an account and all, so you better be feeling more energized.”

“I am.” Jennie herself was surprised at how true the statement was; for some reason, seeing your dyed hair in the crowd of cameras was like a shot of pure adrenaline, just more intense and gratifying. She smiled, “I am. It’s really nice of you to come, Y/N.”

“Of course,” you said, waving the banner around with a grin creasing in the corners of your eyes. “We’re girlfriends, after all. And I’m your friend.” At the call of a director, though, you stepped back. “I should let you film.”

“Y/N?” Jennie called after you. When you turned to face her again, Jennie allowed her customary gummy smile to take over her face as she said softly, “You can call me Jen. All my friends do.”

You were too far away for her to hear your answer, but the excited little jump you made as you walked back to your spot kept the grin on Jennie’s face as she stood again. She missed the relieved glances her members exchanged behind her back, but she could feel a new kind of energy coursing through her as the director started his countdown again. And-- she kind of liked it.

You hated the popular belief that idols who presented the sweetest, kindest version of themselves to the internet got absolutely no hate. Fans, family, managers-- they all believed that never letting your smile slip and never having a single scandal would protect an idol completely. When you were deciding on your persona for your debut, you thought the same, and so you forced yourself into the happy, positive personality that the world knew.

However, for all your effort, for all the things you had to endure with that same smile on your face, people hated you. They called you fake, tried their best to get under your skin just so they could see you fall. But it was too late to fight back, because that wouldn’t become the kind, sweet Y/N. It was too late to ask for help, and it was too late to let yourself cry. 

When you met Jennie, you were determined to keep her on the outside of that precious mask you could never remove. After all, what would she understand? She did what she wanted to, didn’t care what people said about her, and she was strong. Jennie was as strong as you wished you could be, and you were sure that she would never understand. But the more that you saw her and the more that you talked to her, the more you understood that you were one and the same. That tough, carefree version of Jennie was what protected her, just like your perfectly engineered smile.

The first time you saw Jennie laugh, you knew that you were in deep. She didn’t know a single thing about you, but she was letting her walls down and letting you in-- or at least, the you she knew. But you liked her smile so much that you wanted to keep it there, at any cost. And maybe it meant sacrificing yourself.

“Are you ready?”

“For what? Walking through the street, undisguised enough that Dispatch will recognize us but no one else will?” At your pout, Jennie stopped her grumbling and laughed softly, still adjusting her scarf in the car mirror. “Yeah. I’m ready.”

A beat of silence passed as she grabbed your hand and led you out of the parking garage and onto Garosu-gil. “Hey. Y/N, I want to tell you something.”

“Yeah?”

“I... I’m glad it’s you.” Jennie squeezed your hand, her skin slightly cold with the wind blowing softly around the two of you. “I’m glad you’re the one I’m doing this with.”

You wished that she wouldn’t say that. You wished she’d feel anything else towards you-- contempt, hatred, even, despite everything you’d gone through just to become civil. But you squeezed back, flashed a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Me too. You know, it’d be a lot worse if they set me up with a guy.”

“Why would they?” Jennie frowned in answer. “You came out on your own.”

“Unlike you, I didn’t prove it. You know Korea, you aren’t gay until you prove you are,” you sighed, scuffing your shoes against the cobblestones. “They wanted to set me up with a guy at first, but they decided that accepting YG’s offer for me to date you would be more beneficial.”

The other girl paused, and you didn’t quite dare to look up. “Oh. So you didn’t choose to help me, did you?”

You shook your head quietly, expecting Jennie to react badly. But she huffed out a breath and pushed your arm softly. “That’s okay. We’re friends, anyway, and it was hard for you to get us here already. I appreciate you, you know.”

Opening your mouth to respond, you noticed yet another camera flash, just between two buildings ahead of you. “What?” Jennie asked, following your gaze.

“I-- Don’t hate me for this, okay?” you whispered, stopping in the middle of the road. Before she could say anything, you placed your hands lightly on her jaw, pulling Jennie towards you; before your lips actually met, though, you gave her a second to pull away. Instead, she leaned forward just the slightest bit, barely enough to connect.

You didn’t quite dare to move, but Jennie’s hands rested on your waist and pulled you into her, just enough that your lips slotted together. You could barely hear the clicks of the camera, the warmth of the girl that you were kissing completely clouding your brain.

Before anything else happened, you released your grip and stepped away, lips suddenly cold. “I think that’s enough,” you whispered, linking your hands again and lowering your head.

Jennie laughed breathlessly and continued to stroll along when you prompted her to. “That’s all you have to say?”

“Um. Sorry?”

She only giggled harder at that, shoving you slightly. “What are you even sorry for? You’re a good kisser, Y/N.”

“Shut up,” you groaned, heat rising to your ears as you shoved her back. “How do you even say that with a straight face?”

“Hey, I had to listen to Lisa say ‘bitch I’m a star but not Patrick’, I think I can handle this,” Jennie joked. Despite all your effort not to, you found yourself staring at her smile again, losing yourself and any other worries bothering you in it, and her, once again. 

Jennie frowned at her phone-- or actually, at the blankness of her texting history with you. After the little PR stunt at Garosu-gil, you hadn’t contacted her once, and she didn’t dare to surprise you at your apartment or properly ask you what was going on. 

“Haven’t you heard the saying that a watched kettle never boils?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s a pot,” Jennie replied listlessly, still staring at her screen. “But I have heard it, yes. I’m just hoping the universe proves it false.”

Chaeyoung sighed and hugged her older member from behind, swaying back and forth. “Why don’t you just message her? Or go see her? Our manager won’t say anything about it if you just say it’s for PR.”

“It is,” Jennie frowned, turning to her member. The Australian girl raised an eyebrow, and Jennie bit her lip. “Okay. Maybe it isn’t.”

“It definitely isn’t,” Chaeyoung rolled her eyes. “I saw those kiss pics, you know. And no one kisses like that if it’s ‘just PR’. You like each other, unnie, and it’s time to face it.”

Jennie swatted Chaeyoung’s arm. “That’s so cheesy, shut up. But... do you really think I like her?”

“That’s a question for you to answer,” the younger girl pointed out. “But I’ve known you for close to a decade. If I’m right about this, and I’m sure I am, everything’s about to change for you.”

“Ugh, cheesy again,” Jennie groaned, but she stood hesitantly nonetheless. “But... I guess I’ll give it a shot.”

On her way down the stairs, the rapper dialed her manager on her phone and held it up to her ear while she waited for the dial tone to fade. “You’re driving me to Y/N’s house,” she said by way of greeting. “And it’s not just for PR.”

She was sure that no car ride had ever gone slower; Jennie fidgeted the entire way, cursing every bus that blocked her way and scowling as the sun began to set behind a set of buildings in the distance. The more she thought about it, the more definite it was-- she liked you, more than she thought she could like a person. And while that fact would’ve scared her, should’ve scared her, it didn’t. Because it was you, and nothing about you could scare her anymore.

Somehow, the process of buzzing herself in at the building’s front, taking the same elevator up to the 67th floor, and hurrying her way down blue-carpeted hallways had become familiar. Jennie knocked persistently on the door of your apartment and called out, “Hey, Y/N, let me in. It’s Jennie.”

It took a while for anything to happen, and Jennie was almost backing away by the time that the door finally cracked open. For once, the smile on your face was missing, replaced by a guarded, harsher expression than the other girl was used to seeing. “Jen. What’s up?”

“Uh,” she hesitated, “can I come in? I don’t think we can talk in the hallway.”

You looked like you wanted to say no, but with a pleading look from Jennie, you backed away and let the door swing open. Jennie shut it quietly, following you into the living room, where you stood with your arms crossed. “So. What can’t we talk about in the hallway?”

Jennie wanted to say outright the words that were beating in her throat, but the expression on your face alarmed her. You were like a stranger-- or, maybe, she realized that you had finally let your mask down. “I... Y/N, are you okay?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you responded. Suddenly, the roles were reversed;  Jennie was the one reaching out for you, maybe even chasing after you, and you were somehow the one who was turning away.

“Okay,” Jennie said quietly. You were about to turn away, probably assuming that she was going to leave, but if Jennie had learned anything from you, it was that she couldn’t give up that easily if she wanted you to open up. “What do you want from me?”

“I don’t want anything from you,” you responded instantly. Your words only hurt more when you didn’t look up from the television, continuing, “I don’t want you, and I don’t want anything from you--”

“You don’t get to say that to me.” Anger was once again rushing through Jennie’s veins, though not the kind of anger she was used to experiencing. No, she wasn’t mad at your words in the slightest, or even offended-- she was simply pissed off about the fact that you were shutting her down, and she didn’t know why. “Not when you were the one who started this. Y/N, you wanted me once, you don’t get to go back on that without an explanation,” Jennie gritted her teeth, gripping your forearms in her hands.

You finally turned when she shook you lightly, your face blank. “What, I don’t get to shut myself down? You did it the entire time I was trying, giving my all so that you’d talk to me or even just be civil.”

Jennie pleaded, “You succeeded, didn’t you? You’re right that I was a total bitch when all you were trying to do was be nice and make this tolerable for the both of us, but you succeeded. Okay? You-- you’ve made your place in my heart, and I’m not even angry about it. I just... I just like you that much.”

A derisive scoff escaped your lips as you twisted your arms out of her reach, stepping away. “You like me? Jennie, you don’t even know me. This me, the smiles and boba and everything, it’s a facade.” You threw your hands up in the air, biting down on your lip before sighing out, “It’s fake. All of it.”

“I know it isn’t,” Jennie shook her head desperately. She searched your eyes, scanned the sea of the color she’d grown to love, for some semblance of the person she remembered kissing her. “Look, you kissed me. And I know it was for the cameras, but you can’t tell me that you felt nothing from it. Y/N, you’re a good liar, but you can’t lie to me, not about this.”

You were quiet at that, glancing down at the floor as if you had nothing to say. “I didn’t,” you finally answered, tone firm. “Maybe you did, but I--”

Unable to stop herself, Jennie rushed forward again and tugged you into another kiss, her hands scrunching into the hair splayed over your shoulders. She was almost afraid that you’d push her away, curse her and throw her out of your apartment, but she felt your lips moving against yours. She felt your hands splay on her back, and she felt tears slipping down your face.

When you finally did push her away, it was gentle, though you were rough when you wiped the tears off your face. Jennie wished you’d speak first, but she brought herself to speak. “If your smiles were fake, think of the real ones you brought to me. Even if my smiles were from your facade, that’s still a part of you. I know that though you weren’t trying to, you let me see the real you. And I’m willing to see the rest of you,” Jennie smiled, clasping your hands within hers. Sometime along the way, she’d started crying too, but the salt of those tears was almost honeyed on her lips. “If you want me to.”

“I do,” you sighed, accepting the kiss that Jennie pressed to your forehead with a teary smile. “I want nothing more than that, Jen. And-- I’m sorry.”

“Why?” she laughed, wiping the tears of your face so much gentler than you did. “I know what I want now. It’s you, and it has been you since you tried buying me a green juice in that damn coffee place. I like you, Y/N. So much.”

You tucked your face into the crook of her neck and snaked your arms around her waist again. “I like you too. More than I ever thought I could.”

And maybe, just maybe, you knew what you wanted too. Somehow, that mask you wore had long been tossed to the side. Somehow, each kiss pressed to your face by the girl you never knew you needed to find lingered on your skin like the touch of a miracle, and the smile on your face was finally, finally genuine like you had always wanted it to be.

[angelsxbelle]

hq boys when they cheat on you.

this is so angsty i’m sorry buy- i was in desperate need of haikyuu cheating angst and i couldn’t find any so i wrote some:’)

characters: atsumu, tendou, semi, bokuto

i hope this is okay, i might do more of this as a series with different characters- also for whatever reason my bokuto tags weren’t working??

warnings: mentions of sex but nothing explicit, angst, unresolved angst in some, general sadness

ATSUMU  ♡  you had noticed a change in the man you had once called your boyfriend, the late nights, the lipstick on his shirt that didn’t look familiar. the feeling that he didn’t want you anymore. and yet to the untrained eye he was the same loving and caring boyfriend he had always been. you could have sworn he was exactly the same as when you first started dating, when he was in love with you and only you. he claimed to have just been tired, he was affectionate but somewhat hesitant, as if there was something he was looking for somewhere else but couldn’t find it. so when you came home early from work one night, remembering he would still be at the practice he said he had, you finally saw what he was looking for, the bags of groceries crashing and breaking on the floor as you clutched your hand to your chest in disbelief, fingers clawing at the fabric of your shirt. atsumu’s eyes shot up to you in a millisecond, you could see the cold fear in them as he realized that you had just walked in on him on top of another girl in your bed. “b-babe! It’s not what it looks like i promise! ya just walked in at the wrong time!” you hesitated, “h-how could you do this to me tsumu? you said i was good enough, that you love me, was it nothing this entire time? you said at the beginning no other girl could compare to me, am i just nothing to you? nothing?” “just please stay i promise i can fix it! please don’t go ya can’t-” “don’t do this to me tsumu”, you say as tears spill down your cheeks. you force yourself to walk away, taking small steps as you feel like you’re about to throw up. he was right, you thought. those other girls could never compare to how worthless you were.

TENDOU  ♡  being with tendou was amazing at first, he was the best boyfriend you could ever have asked for, he always knew what to do to make you fall in love with him even more, the little things that you would always notice he did for you. and as you settled into your relationship things were still just as good, you were closer to him than before. as you had known tendou in high school and after graduating you knew him better than anyone else did, about his past, his insecurities, his fears. he was a cheerful and playful person normally, it was part of his personality but it was also his way of hiding the things he didn’t want anyone else to see. you noticed lately he was getting clingier, more anxious, the smile on his face had started to slip away as the days past and he seemed less and less like himself. all you could do was comfort him, while you laid in bed with him and held his face to your chest as you whispered all the things you loved about him into his ears as tears streamed down his face. and then one afternoon while he was at work, you got a text from your best friend. you read what she had said, but you just couldn’t understand. so you waited for him to come home. it was silent. you stood in front of him, while he sat at your kitchen table. “satori, i know you cheated on me.” his eyes got wide and you could see the panic etched in his face. “before you freak out, i’m not leaving, i hate that you did this to me, but i’m going to forgive you.” he broke down in tears in front of you, his sobs echoing off the walls of your shared apartment. you walked up to him and wrapped him up in a tight hug. “i’m s-sorry”, he cried while clutching on to your shirt, “i’ll never do it again.” you said, “i love you, and i know you need me right, now, and if you ever do i’ll leave but for right now, i can’t lose you. we can figure this out, i promise.”

SEMI  ♡  he had always told you he got shy seeing people he knew come to his shows, that it would make him nervous and that he’d mess up and freeze on the spot. and you believed him, and kept your distance since you knew you were the one he came home to, and you trusted him. and so you were content with just laying on his bare chest at home, listening to him pluck away at his guitar as he sung softly for you, it was moments like these that made up for it all. things had been going well for you, but when you had a night off of work the same day as one of his shows, you figured it couldn’t hurt to try and see him if you hid in the shadows where he couldn’t see you, and just listen to him play. and so you snuck away that night, butterflies in your stomach from nerves and hopefulness. just as you had imagined, he was amazing, every word he sang came out of his heart alive, and after it was all over you made your way backstage, hoping he wouldn’t be too upset with you. so there you stood, in the doorway of the backstage entrance, feeling your heart drop the ground and shatter as you watched your boyfriend kissing another girl against the wall, grabbing handfuls of her ass and her hair, like you had never even existed at all. his eyes opened, and grew wide as he saw you standing in the doorway. “b-babe! what are you doing here?” “i came to see you, i guess you were right, i shouldn’t have come here at all”, you said, voice cracking as you fought back tears. “w-we can still make this right though, she didn’t mean anything to me!” you could see in his eyes that he knew he was fighting a losing battle, and as you saw tears prick at the corner of his eyes, you turned around and muttered, “goodbye eita.”

BOKUTO  ♡  from the day that he asked you out with a boyish grin on his face and a blush painting his round cheeks, bokuto koutarou had been the best person to be by your side, always the right choice for you and the only man you could ever imagine being with your entire life. even after years he never changed, every day with him was just as interesting as the last and he always showered you with love, never letting you forget how much he loved you. sometimes he had to reassure you since you would get insecure occasionally, reminded of the twitter comments saying the bokuto koutarou deserved someone better looking. he would kiss you all over, saying he loved every part of you and that you were all his, forever. one night you were watching one of your favorite movies together, cuddled up on the couch together wrapped up in layers of blankets with his big arms wrapped around you. he got up to go use the bathroom, and you sat alone on the couch waiting for him to come back when you heard his phone buzz, and decided to stop and look at it to make sure it wasn’t for work. 1 image attachment. 2 image attachments. you opened up instagram to check and your heart rate skyrocketed once you saw what it was. pictures of a girl with what you could barely call lingerie on showed up on the screen, a girl with a much nicer body than yours and perfect features. “babyyy i’m baaack!!!” you looked up and held up the phone, whispering, “kou, what is this?” his face completely distorted into an expression of pure horror, all the color washing away from his cheeks. “i- i didn’t ask for those, i promise! she must be one of my fans that tried to send me pictures, i’ll block her right now!” “how am i supposed to believe you kou, you can do so much better and you know it”, you almost shouted. his heart broke when he realized what you really thought of yourself. tears started to stream down your face at the same time they leaked from your boyfriend’s eyes, he pulled you in close, whispering in your ear, “i would never hurt you baby, i love you too much.” you held onto him tighter, you knew he was telling the truth and you also knew he’d never hurt you either, never in his whole life.

so um- yeah bokuto’s originally wasn’t supposed to have a wholesome ending but he was too much of a cinnamon roll i couldn’t do it :’)

[thejudgingtrash]

Annabeth is a good person,but not a nice or pleasant one,IMO.

YES.

That’s it. That’s the post. Pack it up everybody, we just cracked the case and cleared up one of the most compelling fights in the PJO fandom since forever. Good job everybody, clap it out and there’s the door! Don’t forget ordering the drinks at Starbucks, Mitch! They’re on me!

Okay, but on a more serious note: YES. YES EXACTLY.

And before some of you roll your eyes or grab your pitchforks – put your biases aside and hear me out for once. I like Annabeth. She’s my in my top three characters only second to Percy himself. I love Percabeth. It’s my favorite ship in the entire series and to be frank, the only ship that I care about PJO wise. Hell, I spend my time creating my own headcanons or writing my own fanfics with Percabeth being the star in them.

But that is not to say that I’m unable to see how certain things have developed over the years or where they stand now in regard to Annabeth. I’m not here to ignore things that have been said and/or done due to or in the name of Annabeth and I’m not here to vilify anyone that doesn’t like her. And I’m here to admit that I’m guilty of some of the things that may be addressed in this meta essay that you will read in just a second. However, I try my best to assure you, that I’m for once able to recognize my own bias.

Warning: a monster essay lies right upon you.

This should count as a paper of its own.

Back to the statement on top: I would go out even further to reframe your claim, anon:

Annabeth Chase is a good character but not a nice or pleasant person.

Annabeth is a wonderful character but she isn’t a nice one. Or at least not nice to everyone. She is (construction wise if I dare say) the best character out of the series. She has her positive traits (she’s caring, she’s emotional, she’s encouraged and volunteers, she fights for what she believes in, she forgives (even if doing so begrudgingly)) but she also has her negative traits (she’s stubborn, she’s brash, changing her mind takes forever, she is prejudiced, she baits others). That balances things out. She is branded as the intelligent kid but does irrational things (like I’ve just said a) she’s a kid and b) she’s not a robot). She should probably know better, but we all make mistakes and hopefully grow and learn from them. The clouds in the sky do blur and cover our visions sometimes.

Annabeth had clashes with other characters or was about to have fights due to her stubbornness or jealousy (Rachel, Reyna, etc.) and has of course her problems with the mortal world and her family but she also found new friends, some things cleared up throughout the narration and she was/is quite popular in Camp Half-Blood.

The thing is: she doesn’t have to be nice or pleasant (as a character). Or at least not all the time. Her character is humanized. That is what or who she is. Human. She does stand out as a character, not just because she’s the (future) love interest. She feels like someone you could meet in real life and either adore from the top to the bottom or declare as your biggest enemy. And that’s totally okay if you lean either way – liking or disliking her. Or even feeling indifferent about her. Also great!

To say that she has been the best character that Riordan has crafted is easy to say, because she has been sculpted after Riordan’s wife. He had a model he could rub some of real-life events or traits on. That’s not the problem. The problem truly doesn’t lie on Riordan’s side for the most part for once.

The problem is inherently on the fandom’s side. What the fandom does, how it acts and how it treats Annabeth as a character is the problem. The problems vary but it’s mostly the mischaracterization of Annabeth, starting fights and fan/ship wars, internalized misogyny (in some cases) and how some of the Annabeth stans lash out (ha, got firsthand experience in that field among many of my friends and mutuals!). There is a reason why many people are wary of people that have Annabeth or Percabeth related URLs.

The fact that we see Annabeth mostly through Percy’s lens and (until the Heroes of Olympus saga hits) we never really see her in chill everyday situations is essentially Riordan leaving the back door of the house open, ready for all of you asshats to rob his mansion in Boston. Because a frame on a character means that we don’t get to see the character in its entirety (unlike we do with Percy in PJO for the most part). That means a bunch of stuff is left open for interpretation which is the reason why Annabeth gets so many polarized headcanon and opinions tossed around. I think that is one of the true appeals of Annabeth. You can add on stuff and it necessarily doesn’t have to contradict itself.

We have people calling her abusive due to a (n admittedly stupid and unnecessary) judo flip and we have people that act like she’s never done anything wrong. People sorta use this excuse to form and shape Annabeth however they want and distort her characterization.

People in the fandom act like Annabeth is some weird prized possession. We perceive Annabeth mostly through the eyes of others (Percy, Apollo, etc.) and when we had some sort of insight in her ways (MOA, HOH) it felt… weird? Somewhat? Like Riordan left two bullet points of her characterization and told the ghostwriter: aight, fuck it up, gringo, see you on Tuesday and greet Fred the next time you see him for me. 

There have been many posts lately (by Tharini, Simi, Sawasawako, Jewishpercy and Annie I believe?) that HOO Percabeth felt weird. That they felt weirdly constructed, that there was no conflict, no growth. It felt stagnating, like we’re turning back. We had five books prior where we had Annabeth and Percy slowly shifting from disliking to liking and crushing each other. True development. And when we finally got the cake it felt… dissatisfying. Like the cheap box stuff and not the delicious exquisite taste that we were promised.

I said it previously in my Percabeth ship roast, but let me repeat myself: many Percabeth related things are straight up fanon. Some of it is very old fanon so that’s been unable to distinguish unless you’ve read the books recently and subtract nearly 99,9% of things you see on Tumblr (and occasionally the other shitty parts of the fandom like Reddit, IG, Twitter. Although they mostly steal and recycle tumblr stuff oh well. But back to the topic).

The way people treat Annabeth is so strange. She’s either an innocent fluffy smush baby that’s never harmed a fly and all that she wants for Christmas is being Percy’s lapdog or she’s the devil incarnate, broke into your house, killed your parents Batman style, kicked your puppy and didn’t flush the toilet on the way out. I think this is what mostly makes people hate her or the ship Percabeth. And both extremes are wrong and right at the same time? She is multifaceted so both stereotypes are true and untrue and sorta cancel each other out in the same way.

The true reason why people dislike Annabeth is because the stans are doing the most. (The haters as well, don’t get me wrong, but oh boy. Piss of a stan and you’ll know what I mean). That isn’t inherently new. Are you guys old enough to remember the ship wars that have happened cross platform? Perachel vs. Percabeth? Oh boy, oh boy. I saw some kids on tumblr a few months ago trying to infiltrate both tags and start shit (and also fail). The fact that Rachel still gets used as the bitchy (ex) girlfriend in fanfics? It’s 2020 guys. I know this apocalyptic year is far from perfect and over but I think we can let this trope die, right? Right? I thought we’ve established that Rachel is a pretty chill charcter by now… right?

If you posted your stuff on FFN back in 2010-2013 and it wasn’t the typical cutesy Percabeth story (Goode High, the gods read TLT, punk/prep Percabeth, college AU, etc.) people would’ve come for your fucking throat. Not because the story or the narration was shit. But because the pairing wasn’t Annabeth and Percy (in the sense that Annabeth had to be paired with Percy. I mean Percy gets shipped with everyone and their mother but for Annabeth it was strictly Percy. As annoying as this whole Connabeth thing is – the people behind it actually had a point. She never had a different love interest unless it’s a Percy centered story and he goes off dating Athena, Artemis and Zoe at the same time for some odd reason. Yeah, FFN Percy ships are something). Or it wasn’t the action filled canon compliant story or it wasn’t an AU that was popular.

People were really stubborn, snobbish and wanted their stuff in the four five boxes that were the most popular ones and that’s it. People have been bullied off the site in many fandoms, so it’s not a PJO-only thing but it’s still sad that it happened. (Off-note: most of these FFN tropes are still alive and well and thriving on AO3. Don’t be so snobbish and pretend that every piece you’d find there is a holy grail. There’s a lot of trash you have to waddle through. Same with Wattpad, Tumblr or anywhere else where fanfics get posted. Also had this discussion with Annabeth stans. Sigh).

And Tumblr back then? Forget it, wasn’t much better.

That view has sorta changed (at least for people that have been in the fandom for several years or have managed to find a way to navigate through it) but some of the negative sentiment from back in the day has survived. Be it by new fans coming in or from old fans that never let their stance die. The aggression feels differently and somewhat not. (I don’t know if the anon function had been abused that much back in the day. I was an observer not a participant in the fandom).

Crack a joke at Annabeth’s expense (Kal’s famous “Annabeth is a Republican” post or Dee Dee’s and many others “Annabeth has the education of a second grader, chill with the college plans, girlie” stance) and you have people insulting you, making callout posts, unfollowing and blocking you (based on only that? Okay, honey), making aggressive counter-posts, etc. in a minute. If you respond with “It’s a joke, it’s not real” you have a 50/50 chance of either getting blown off or embarrassing them so that they apologize for once.

This isn’t just about jokes. You can make a headcanon that’s not the cozy cute convenient mainstream saga and people would react the same way. Or art piece (no, not including the whole Tannabeth Blackchase shtick done by Viria and others) or fanfics.

People project so much onto the unfinished canvas that is Annabeth Chase that any form of negative sentiment as little as someone not liking her to straight up criticism, regardless of how tiny it may be, seems like an affront. Like an invitation to a fight. Like an insult to them, their character, everything they believe in. Let me state something:

You are NOT Annabeth Chase. Annabeth Chase IS NOT you. Annabeth Chase is NOT real. Her feeling cannot be hurt. Someone criticizing, disliking, joking about her or even insulting her will not bother her. Someone making a statement about her is not an insult to YOU.

Let me repeat that:

Annabeth Chase isn’t real. Annabeth Chase isn’t you.

So think a little before you act? I get it when you’re a kid and new to fandoms or haven’t been up with fan cultures in the past and are back in the scene. But if you’re in your late teens or even older as an adult and you’re unable to understand that you aren’t what you like – you aren’t the extension of a fictional character – I feel incredibly sorry for you. Because that’s just incredibly sad. Someone disliking something you like isn’t an attack of your character. It shows you that you are you and the other person is a human just like you. That they just have different taste. Disliking something you like isn’t a crime, you know? But me feeling sorry for the way some of y’all act won’t mean that that’s even remotely okay. Especially if you’re no longer in the intended audience for PJO age wise and should know better.

This isn’t a “white stans” only thing. I’ve seen and witnessed firsthand how people of color, mainly women of color, act the same or not even worse when it comes to her character. People have projected their problems and real-life occurring events into her character (I’m sure that she isn’t the only character nor that this is the only fandom where this is happening) and in some cases like I’ve said cannot separate their own personality from the fictional world. Fights with woc happened because of Annabeth fucking Chase. So many things have happened in the fandom the past few months, mostly due to people being forced staying at home because of the quarantine but I’d say it’s 10% on quarantine and 90% on people for acting up like this.

So here’s a little story: There was the act of Riordan blowing the fandom up because of his own stupidity and being unable to apologize for his mischaracterization and lack of research (the whole Piper fiasco) back in June (?) and admits the upset fandom, people on Twitter, Tumblr and Discord legit thought that none of that mattered and that the outcry was destroying Annabeth Chase’s birthday. That’s right. People thought that Annabeth Chase’s non-existing birthday because she’s a fictional character had a higher priority than the rupture and prevalent racism in the fandom. Okay. This isn’t a great look, Annabeth stans. And this of course pissed a lot of people off. I made a post about it and someone not only berated three other people on said post but no, we had a mighty argument which had disrupted many friendships in our circle which haven’t recovered until this very day. We both had our parts in it and no one is innocent. But the cause of this still remains Annabeth Chase or how people prioritize her non-existing well-being. Anyway. I’m getting agitated just thinking about it.

Let’s go back to the characterization thing with Annabeth. Let me remind you:

Annabeth Chase is an asshole. There I’ve said it in a post ages ago (too lazy to look it up, sorry) and I’ll say it again. And that’s not me insulting her. That’s me actually loving that about her. Annabeth is one of the very few unapologetic female characters that really showed all young readers across the world that you can be a girl, a badass, smart, strong, standing up for yourself and what you believe in. You don’t have to be nice. You don’t have to hide your feelings. You don’t need a man in all cases but it’s also okay to accept help and defeat.

A large reason why I think she’s an incredibly important character in children’s literature/YA because many other novels (mostly (sadly)) have the “Oh, I’m a white skinny dark-haired girl that likes unconventional things like READING. I’m not like the other girls, that take care of themselves and pamper themselves by enjoying shopping and wearing make-up. No, I’d rather be one of the boys but a sweet cute little boy and not the jock fuck that drank vodka shots out of a filthy shoe once. Despite me calling myself hideous every man in a 10-kilometer radius falls in love with me and tells me I’m oh so sexy and by the way I’m only 16 years old” shit going on for no goddamn reason.

Yes, I do blame Twilight for this mostly in recent years, but this trope isn’t by any means knew. Pretty sure that you could even use classics as Pride and Prejudice and dissect them in the same manner (Bold statement: Lizzy Bennet is the OG Bella Swan. There. Go fight somewhere in the corner, people). The new wave of YA focuses on girls belittling themselves and only starting to believe in themselves because someone else (mostly the male love interest) tells them they’re worth it. And these books hit the mainstream because they’re incredibly bland and picture perfect white.

With Annabeth it’s different. She shows up for the job and is done with it. (Brie Larson would probably be the perfect in real life version of her. You either like or dislike her. Or you really don’t care). That is what is so refreshing about her. Her unapologetic nature. Can it be off-putting? Yes. Is it annoying? Yes! Hell, every time I read The Lightning Thief, I want to rip her goddamn head off. And it’s just so well written. Her shift from mistrusting Percy but secretly still believing in him to her opening up. Wow, Riordan did something right there.

Annabeth Chase isn’t a young character. She has existed along with PJO for 15 years. She’s on her way to the second decade. I’m pretty sure that with the success of Percy Jackson (and Harry Potter) many lives have been warped and shaped.

But when I say the problem lies mostly in the fandom, it doesn’t mean that Riordan’s completely innocent. The only problem that I have with Annabeth lies not truly with her but the fact that Riordan is only able to produce three variations of female characters:

The sweetheart (Hazel, Silena, Calypso, Hestia)

The strong feminist (Annabeth, Piper, Thalia, Reyna, Artemis)

The bitch (Drew, nearly every female goddess in the goddamn Riordanverse next to every female monster)

And these female characters only know three endings:

End up married with a mortgage, three kids, two dogs and a cat somewhere in Connecticut by the age of twelve

Get dumped into the hunt

Chill on Mount Olympus and only come down to be a nuisance and/or give a cryptic message before going back and doing a godly rave party or something

We know Annabeth as the badass strong female first (or the bitchy character we’re supposed to actually like. Choose your approach), the blueprint so to speak, so some of the other characters feel almost pale in comparison and almost not needed? Doesn’t mean that other characters can’t behave similarly, but it feels kind of redundant especially if their character arcs end in a rather anticlimactic way (Thalia, Reyna). The new additions are the much needed woc as the main story with PJO was inherently white (anyway stan black!Percy and Grover, folks). So it’s not to bash on the new characters, it’s more Riordan’s fault more than anything.

Since Riordan only knows three female character arcs it feels like he tried to copy the formula several ways with different nuances. Some more or less successful. This is where fandom actually comes in handy and helps create more distinguished and fleshed out characters in form of headcanons or fanfiction.

But even in these cases people still make it about Annabeth when it’s time for characters of colors to shine. Remember that whole spiel and discussion that broke out when people (Kal, diver-up, Caitlyn, Bee, reynaisalesbian, etc.) joked about or criticized that Annabeth thinks that she’s having it harder because she’s a blonde? In front of Hazel and Piper? If she would’ve been a real person that’s an invitation for getting decked. And then all hell broke loose because Annabeth stans couldn’t accept the fact that in the real world and/or in fictional worlds the woc/coc have it harder? That the white woman wasn’t the victim that needed the coddling? Yeah, that was mad pathetic.

I hope you people get my point?

Well fuck. I wrote so many things and have the feeling I’ve said nothing. Anyway, I hope I made sense. This is way too long.

TLDR: Chill about Annabeth please. She’s an important character but that doesn’t mean that everyone has to like her, regardless of being a character in the books or a reader/fan of PJO in real life. She isn’t nice or a sweetheart all the time. She also isn’t the monstrous asshole that some try to make out of her.

Peace out.

[dreamescapeswriting]

The Best Of Both Worlds ~ PJM [Request]

WORD COUNT: 2.2K

GENRE: Jealous, established-relationship, fluffy ending, 

PAIRING: Jimin x Fem!Reader

A/N: I didn’t make this as angsty/jealous as I think you would have liked as i don’t know I just couldn’t seem to make the reader SUPER jealous of Army 😅 hope this is okay though!

Sipping on the wine in front of you, you tried to keep your head clear as you stared down at yourself as you continued to wait alone in the hotel restaurant for your boyfriend but he was a no show. Tonight was supposed to be about celebrating your birthday but it looked as though Jimin had passed out in his hotel room, which you didn't really blame him. The boys were on one of their largest tours yet and were performing almost every night in a row with not many breaks today they had performed in one of the biggest venues in Amsterdam. If Jimin had gotten back to his hotel room and passed out on the bed forgetting about tonight you weren't going to hold it against him since you knew just how much he loved this life. The boys and preforming meant everything to him so you wiped your mouth on a napkin and began to get ready to leave the small private room you were in. It had been decorated with party banners by some of the hotel staff, candles filled the small table you and Jimin would have been sitting on and the napkins and plates matched the dress you were wearing. A simple rose gold sequin wrap midi, nothing too fancy since you were just sitting in the restaurant for the night. 

"Would you like someone to escort you to your room?" The waiter who was supposed to be privately serving you and Jimin tonight asked as he walked over to you. Looking a little worried that you were leaving without Jimin coming down to see you, they all knew what was supposed to be happening tonight since they were all informed on who would be inside of the room and why it was a private function. 

"No, that's okay. I'm fine. Thank you." You smiled reassuringly at him before slowly making your way towards the elevators outside in the halls, waiting for them in silence when your phone vibrated inside your clutch. A couple of people came to join you waiting for their ride and you continued to ignore your phone, figuring it was just twitter with people wishing you a happy birthday so you ignored it until it went off again and again and then again. It started to seem as though it might have been something important so you slipped it out of the bag and your eyes widened.

[BTS] Starting Live: Jimin 

Was written across the screen followed by a lot of army you were following on Twitter freaking out about Jimin suddenly going live after a performance that night. Sighing to yourself that Jimin would ditch you for something else you rapidly pushed the button to the elevator doors wanting nothing more than to go upstairs and crawl into bed. The people that had joined you at the doors gave you a weird look for hitting the button so quickly but you didn't care. The only thoughts you had in your mind were the thoughts of Jimin standing you up on your own birthday for his fans and it was starting to make you feel uneasy inside and it wasn't a feeling that you were used to. 

It wasn't that you were jealous of Jimin always spending so much time with Army and that he was always wanted to be with them or do something for them. You weren't a jealous person, you knew how much army meant to each of the boys and just because you were dating Jimin didn't mean that was going to change. You and Jimin had been dating for almost four years now so you were used to a lot of things that he would do with Army. The holding hands and being cute at fan-meetings, the always looking out for them but the one thing that always seemed to annoy you was when he put them before anyone else. Sometimes even putting himself at risk just to make sure that Army was having a nice time or wasn't going to be upset with him. It was something that you used to ignore since they were his fans and you were one of them but there was an incident where Jimin had gotten too sick to perform and instead of resting like the doctor had ordered him to do he spent the night on Vlive to fans. Evidently, he got worse and had to cancel another show but still attempted to go onto Vlive until you fought with him to stop. Forcing him to give up going live until he was 100% better, he thanked you in the long run but at the time he hated you for taking the chance to talk to his fans away from him. Tonight you figured it would be different, you thought he'd fallen asleep or forgot because of how much pressure he was under lately but as you looked through the stream it seemed as though Army were concerned for the same thing as you. Out of curiosity, you slipped into the Vlive when the elevators were empty and looked through the chat, a lot of Army was confused as to why he was spending time with them on today of all days when they knew it was your birthday. Your relationship with Jimin had been out for a year and there were a few people that didn't like the news but mostly Army had been accepting of the two of you being together. For the most, it looked like Jimin hadn't noticed any of the questions regarding you so you backed out of the video and headed towards your room.

"Hey, where's Jimin? I figured you guys would want more time in your private-" Jungkook stopped talking as soon as he saw the look on your face and your phone in your hand, saying nothing as you simply showed him the video of Jimin talking to everyone right now.

"I'm sure he's just preparing a grand entrance...G-Go and sit back downstairs and I'll go and get him," Jungkook pleaded with you but it was already too late, you were already too annoyed from the thought of being stood up by your own boyfriend. 

"I'm going to go and shower and get into bed. Goodnight Jungkook," You said defeatedly as you continued walking down the hall in the direction of your room which was four doors down from Jimin's. The two of you never shared a room since BigHit wanted Jimin to be on his best behaviour but just because BigHit ordered two rooms didn't mean they were both always used until now. Normally you would sneak into Jimin's room at night or he would sneak into yours so you didn't have to be alone but tonight you wanted to be alone. Tonight you just wanted the rest of the world to go away. 

After having a shower while blasting out loud music you walked into your room to see Jimin laid on the bed, a guilty look on his face with a shy smile. 

"What are you doing here?" You questioned, wrapping the towel around your body as you walked towards your suitcase to find something new to change into. You were still cross with him for not showing up and just because Jungkook had gone to get him it didn't mean he was going to be so easily forgiven.

"Babe. You can't be mad at me...I wanted to speak to Army." As he said this it only seemed to make you angrier and the pit in your stomach began to grow with worry as you turned to look at him. Hands clutching onto your towel as you stared at him, wondering if he meant that as a real excuse or if he was just saying it to wind you up.

"You're not serious right?" You questioned him as you picked up a baggy shirt, some shorts and underwear to change into when you'd gotten back into the bathroom. 

"They mean everything-"

"I know that! But I thought- I thought maybe I would be a little more important on today of all days," You mentioned as you walked back in the direction of the bathroom but Jimin scoffed in disbelief of you,

"Just because it's your Birthday?" You stared at him as the question left his mouth, you couldn't believe it. 

"You stood me up on purpose? You just decided that...Today you didn't want to celebrate your girlfriends birthday you would rather spend it with Army who get all of your time and attention anyway?" You snapped out rudely, realising how angry and jealous you sounded as soon as the words left your mouth but you couldn't help it. The thought of him suddenly not wanting to spend time with you was starting to weigh down on you more and more. Jimin stared at you as he started laughing a little, 

"You're jealous of my fans?" You shook your head at him, he clearly didn't seem to understand why you were so upset so you slammed the bathroom door. Hoping that he would get the unspoken message and leave your hotel room before you came back out and went to sleep. 

Jimin was still sitting there when you came out of the bathroom, you were dressed and ready for bed. Choosing to ignore him as he tried to get you to keep talking to him or start back up the fight from before. 

"I can't believe you're actually jealous of them." He mocked as he made his way over to the door of your hotel room, you were going to continue to ignore him but it felt like you finally had to say something. 

"You know what," You sat up in the bed as you announced to him, he turned to look at you with his hands on his hips waiting for you to continue with what you were saying. 

"I am! I'm jealous of the fact that my boyfriend would much rather spend his time with his fans than me on my birthday." You admitted out loud and to yourself for the first time as you continued to rant to him, 

"Does it make me the jealous Bitchy girlfriend?! Probably! But you know what, I'm sick of being made to feel like the second option Jimin. You always put them first before everything and for almost four years I've put up with it but this...Tonight..." You were tearing up as you stared at him. Not believing that you were actually having to fight for his attention to be on you, 

"I thought it would be different. I thought that maybe you would want to spend time with me but it feels like you don't. It feels like I am constantly begging with you to try and get you to spend time with me." It felt good to finally get all of it off your chest but by the look on Jimin's face he didn't look impressed, 

"You are not constantly begging for me to spend time with you, we always spend time together!" He yelled out but you shook your head at him, 

"When was the last time we spent time together that wasn't forced? The last time you actually asked me to be with you?" As Jimin thought about your question you nodded at him sarcastically, 

"Exactly. Because it's me...Always putting the effort in and never seeing it back Jimin...You organised tonight and I thought maybe it would be your way of telling me you were going to spend more time with me." You admitted not caring anymore if you sounded like the needy clingy girlfriend, you just wanted to want to have your boyfriend want you. Was that too much to ask? As Jimin thought about it more he began to realise you were right, he couldn't remember the last time he'd willing spent time with you or took you out somewhere alone with him and he began to feel bad. 

"Babe I didn't know it was bothering you this much..." You rolled your eyes and laid back down against the sheets, wanting nothing more than for him to leave but he didn't. He stalked back over to the bed and got under the covers behind you, kissing your shoulder as he wrapped his arms around your waist. 

"One night isn't going to fix-" He cut you off by kissing you again when you turned around to speak to him, when he pulled away he cupped your face in his hands and smiled weakly. 

"I promise to make things better...I know it's not going to sound real but I will," He whispered as he kissed you over and over again, 

"We'll start having dates twice a week...Just the two of us...I promise." He repeated over and over again as he leant his forehead against yours and smiled weakly, 

"Jimin I don't want you to think I was being clingy-" He cut you off again as he shook his head, 

"I shouldn't take our relationship for granted, you're just as important to me as Army and I should learn to love you both and keep you both in my life...And I will. The best of both worlds." He whispered before kissing your nose softly and smiling at you, 

"Now get some sleep, I'll order room service in the morning and we can spend the whole morning and most of the afternoon watching movies or doing whatever you want." He assured you as he stripped out of his shirt and got comfortable on the bed behind you.

Tagline: @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @fan-ati--c @taestannie @rjsmochii @kneel-begyourpardon​ @innersooya​ @sw33tnight​ @sweeneyblue1​ @jin-from-the-block​ @acciocriativity​ @that-anxious-bisexual​

[izzymcfeegles]

Yet another post about Sebastian Stan:

I'm seriously tired of making these posts, but over the past few days, there has been a lot of controversy surrounding Sebastian's most recent IG post, and as a result,more things are resurfacing and its become impossible for me to ignore. I'm going to try my best to give a fair assessment, but if I'm being honest, this all appears to be a pretty troublesome pattern of behavior. Before I get into any of that, I think it's important to mention where I stand on cancel culture. As someone who is a longtime fan of wrestling and classic rock, I'm no stranger to seeing some of my favorite artists act in ways that would be considered unacceptable by today's standards. I do think that stan Twitter has a tendency to be a bit harsh when it comes to judging things that people have done in the past. That being said:

Context is important. The reality is that there were many things that were considered to be socially acceptable at one point in time, that we've since learned can be harmful, particularly to those who are marginalized on the basis of race, gender, sexual orientation, gender identity, etc. Something that was considered to be acceptable 2005, we later find can be toxic and harmful. Do I think it's productive to cancel for someone for something they did decades ago that was considered to be acceptable at the time? Not necessarily. However, if this person continues to exhibit the same behaviors to this day, then yes, they should be rightfully taken to task.

In Sebastian's case, he has a documented history of saying and doing things that are ignorant and tone-deaf. In the early 2010's he made an comment about playing Bucky as a "transvestite," a word that is considered to be dated and offensive to Trans people. If I'm being honest, if I saw the interview the date it aired, I probably wouldn't have blinked twice as I was not as educated on Trans issues at that time. I now know that the comment was unacceptable and hope Sebastian does too.

Regarding the Jeff!Seb pedo memes, I'd be lying if I said my edgy 2009 self wouldn't have found them funny at one point, however in 2017, my adult self was not amused. And coming from someone who was playing an abuser at the time, liking those memes was a bad look. Same goes for the Kneegate meme, especially when you consider the amount of hatred black NFL players were receiving from people including the President of the United States for kneeling in protest during the national anthem. It was tasteless, tone-deaf, and he should have known better. The fact that his "apology" over the incident was surrounded by quotes, and as some fans speculated, copied and pasted did not help matters. Mind you, many fans were willing to give him the benefit of the doubt and forgive him, and for a while things seemed okay.

Fast forward to 2020. After the man made it a point to shame Miami spring breakers for vacationing during the pandemic, he is seen months later vacationing in Ibiza and later Tulum. The fact that he used his money and Romanian passport to go on vacation while many of us were either stuck at home or worse, putting our lives at risk to put food on the table, understandably did not sit well with many people, especially when taking his previous comments about pandemic vacationers into account. The fact that his traveling partner is a socialite who has a history of doing cultural appropriation, including doing brown face and using the word "savage" in reference to her friend doing a native war cry made it sting even more. I'm not going to go into depth about her because she doesn't deserve the attention and this is about holding Sebastian accountable, but the fact that he is still with her and they appear to be inseparable, it's clear that her history of CA is a non-issue for him. Make what you will of that.

Moving to recent actions. The current project Sebastian is working on is controversial in its own right. As someone who has been a Mötley Crüe fan for almost 20 years, I am familiar with the history of that relationship and how toxic is was and will never defend Tommy and the abuse Pamela suffered at his hand. While my issue is mostly with the producers, it doesn't change the fact Sebastian and Lily are still willfully participating in a series that Pamela herself does not wish to be made.

Sebastian's most recent post seems to be catalyst for the most recent wave of Twitter outrage. I am well aware that Tommy is/was a practicing Buddhist and that things like Buddha statues were part of his home decor. That's not the issue. The issue lies in the face Sebastian chose to make in the photo where he appears to be prying to the statue, along with the caption "find your zen fuckerz." Once again, I am aware of Tommy's speech patterns and get that it was "in character," but to use the combination of that photo and that caption as a non-Buddhist, it's understandable why some Buddhist fans were offended and saw it as disrespectful. And as a non-Buddist, I don't think it's right to tell these people what they should and should not be offended by.

So for those of you who hate paragraphs, TL/DR:

Sebastian has a documented history of ignorant behavior and posts and as of now does not seem to be interested in addressing these things and learning about why the aforementioned behaviors are problematic and why some fans are hurt. This is not okay and we should not be defending him.

I understand that for many of you, he has been a source of joy. Bucky is still my comfort character and I will always be grateful to Seb for portraying the him with the nuance and care he deserves. I'm not asking anyone to stop staning Bucky or to take down your Seb x Reader fanfics. Life is short and you're entitled to the things that make you happy. Just understand that his actions have hurt a lot of people and why fans are upset and lashing out. While I do not condone any threats or doxxing aimed at his direction, the same goes to people who criticize him. I've seen people go to some vile lengths to defend him, from going after Pamela, a victim of abuse, to telling Buddhists how they should feel about their own religion, to anons telling the blogs who call him out to go kill themselves. None of this is ok. At the end of the day, Sebastian is a 38-year-old white man who has a great deal of money and influence and has more social capital than the people calling him out. He will be fine regardless of what happens and does not need people to protect him. The same cannot be said about the people he hurt through his actions.

[purpletaecup]

10 ☾ he said that’s how he still remembers me

warnings: explicit language (cursing), mentions of miscarriage, mentions of infidelity (not rlly but on thin ice)

notes: you guys... this is a long one and it’s kind of fast paced, but we are finally getting some answers and the drama really begins! next chapter will be emotional, that’s all I know. I’m sorry for putting you through all this angst!! also, I wanted to bring some attention to the crisis in the Philippines right now with all of the dangerous typhoons. A lot of people need donations and rescuing, so HERE is a link to a twitter thread of donation drives! Please make sure to check it out, share and help spread awareness!

as always, come talk to me in my ask box! and if you want to be added to the taglist, please send an ask, or reply to this post or the masterlist!

not edited!! sorry if there are any mistakes lmfao i usually am sleep deprived when i write so yeah, there are probably some errors.

word count: 5,614

☾

The days following Jungkook’s visit were dull, if anything. You’ve received texts from Yoongi saying that he couldn’t come visit until that weekend because he had to finish wrapping things up in advance at the company so that he could spend some time with you. You had argued over the phone like teenagers when you insisted that he didn’t need to do that and you could take care of yourself until Jin came back. Of course, that led to him ranting about what the doctor said about monitoring you and your symptoms for concussion and to get him to just shut up about the medical stuff (it made your brain hurt more than it did usually), you reluctantly agreed to his ‘visits’, as you’d rather call them.

[nov. 20, 2020]

It was Friday now and you still haven’t gotten any glimpse of actual memories back, although you have been having these strange dreams that you couldn’t really remember when you woke up. You could only describe the feeling it gave you as ‘sinking’, like you were drowning and you couldn’t escape. As much as possible, you tried not to think about these feelings, and focused more on trying to get to know the version of you who lived in this amazing apartment.

The past couple of days that you spent at this apartment put you in awe. It really was the apartment of your dreams, from the color of the furniture down to the little plants stuck in the corner of that tiny shelf in the kitchen. It was beautiful and so you. The only problem was that you couldn’t find anything to help with your current situation. You scoured every nook and cranny and couldn’t find anything dated after your wedding reception. No pictures, no post-its, notes or anything past that date. What you had found in your apartment, you already knew of (aside from the wedding photos). Past photoshoots, high school photos, a notebook full of movie ticket stubs. There was absolutely nothing in this apartment that gave you a clue to the life you lived during the four year gap in your memory.

You even tried to get into your twitter and instagram from when you were nineteen but you couldn’t log in. Wrong password every single time. When you tried to change your password for social media, the email you used had a different password too. You couldn’t figure out what you could have changed your password to. Every password combination you could think of, you tried, but none worked, so you decided to just skip that and maybe go over it later on. Or make a new one. That could work, too.

You couldn’t even look at your twitter account because for some reason, it was private and that seemed strange for someone with almost 130,000 followers. You could see your instagram account from your browser, but it wouldn’t let you see the pictures and posts in full size with the captions and comments, so you were really stuck.

A quick internet search of your name yielded things you already knew. Former model, current writer (that fact was still surprising to you). Old news articles of dating scandals that weren’t true, except for the one with Yoongi. More news articles about your divorce with no further information than what Yoongi had told you already.

It’s as if any clue about your life during your memory loss is unaccounted for. It seemed like at this point, you could only rely on other people telling you about your life and pray to whatever higher power there was to give you your memories back.

This futile search was beginning to make your stomach churn. You almost couldn’t suppress the bile rising up in your throat. Hopefully Jin would return soon. Maybe he could put all of the pieces back together for you.

☾

Jungkook sat in on the uncomfortable leather couch in Yoongi’s office as he waited for the man to finish up whatever he was typing. He looked through his instagram feed and saw one of your posts from July. For a while, he was confused as to why this picture from July would end up on his feed, but he remembered the new instagram algorithm. Curious, he clicked on your profile and looked through it slowly. He couldn’t remember the last time he actually paid attention to your posts.

“I forgot to ask but what did you and Yn do at her apartment? She said you stayed over for a couple of hours.” Yoongi asked though his eyes never strayed from his paperwork.

Jungkook looked up at him and pondered on what to say.

“Hm, yeah. I got roped into staying. She asked a bunch of questions and we looked through her apartment and her photo albums. Her apartment’s cute, by the way. Way different from what your house looked like.” He comments.

“Really?”

“Yeah. It was bright. Lots of green. Nothing I’ve ever seen in the house you guys shared.”

“How was she when you picked her up? She told me a couple of things but I haven’t seen her yet so I can’t know if what she’s telling is the truth or not.”

It was quiet for a moment, with only the sound of turning pages filling the room, as Jungkook wondered what to say to this. He didn’t really know when to start with you, especially with how different you were acting.

“Well, she’s fine. The personality is definitely different. She seems a lot more outgoing, and she had a lot of questions but she didn’t push. I think she wants to try and figure things out on her own.” Jungkook replies as he continued to slowly look through your previous instagram posts.

“She’s been like that. She hates being a burden and gets really defensive about it sometimes.” Yoongi comments.

Jungkook pauses at your most recent post. He checks the date. September 22.

“When did you guys divorce again?” He asked.

At this, Yoongi looked up.

“The divorce was finalized on September 29, I think.” He answered, but looked questioningly at Jungkook as if to ask why.

“Did you know she was going to therapy?” Jungkook asked again.

Hearing this, Yoongi stood up abruptly and hurried over to where Jungkook was sitting.

“What? Where did you see that?” Yoongi asked as he looked over Jungkook’s shoulder.

Jungkook showed him the post. Yoongi took the phone from him and examined the post carefully.

It was a picture of clouds with text on it. Is this the life we really want? The caption read “as per the advice of my therapist, i’m just here to pop in and say that I’ll be going on a hiatus for a little bit”.

“What the fuck? I didn’t know this!” Yoongi yelled, evidently angry.

Jungkook looked at him confused. They were together for four years, how could he not know that you were at least going to therapy?

The same question was running through Yoongi’s head. He took a seat next to Jungkook to process this new information.

“Hyung, can I ask you a couple of questions?” Jungkook requested.

Yoongi could only nod.

“What was Yn like when you were together? Why did you marry her?” Those were the first questions that came out of Jungkook’s mouth.

He was truly, genuinely curious. Though he’s heard some things that Yoongi had said about you, he never knew the full story.

“We married each other because we loved each other. Wasn’t that obvious?” Yoongi retorted.

Jungkook pursed his lips at this. “Well that's what you tell everybody and yeah we get it, but considering the fact that I’ve barely seen you two together more than two handful of times in the past two years, I had to ask.”

“That’s because we were both busy, but that didn’t mean we didn’t spend time together. Of course you never saw it because you weren’t there and I’m not one to actively talk about my love life. Yn and I both liked our privacy.”

“Okay, then what was she like when you were together?”

Yoongi was quiet for a while. There were a lot of things he could say about you when you were together. He just didn’t know how to articulate it to Jungkook.

“When we were together… she was charismatic, beautiful and intelligent. Something about the way she communicated made you feel like you could forget about all of your worries and live life to its extent with her. She constantly dragged me out to picnics and made me forget about the business and my career. She made me feel young again. And she had so much love and care for people around her. For a long time, I felt like I would never be deserving of her. She was kind of like a sunflower. Or sunshine, you know what I mean?” Yoongi poured out.

Jungkook nodded. He realized that this was the time to try to figure out what happened to you in your marriage. From his conversation with you at your apartment, to the description of you that Yoongi had just given, he surmised that the version of you that he knew was someone different and he could only wonder if Yoongi saw it too.

“Did you ever feel like she changed? In the time you guys were together?” He probed.

Yoongi thought about it for a while.

“Yeah, I think so. I always found it strange that she decided to quit modelling.  When I met her, she said it was all she ever wanted. I never asked because it seemed like a sensitive topic to her, but I supported her regardless. Writing seemed so out of nowhere for her. I don’t know where it came from. Then she stopped wanting to go to business dinners and events with me and after that we just drifted. And in between that, you introduced me to Yura.”

When Yoongi mentioned Yura, Jungkook winced. He had thought about it some nights ago, but he realized that he might have had a hand in your divorce by introducing Yura to Yoongi. Though he knows Yoongi would have never physically cheated on you, he could see how Yoongi and Yura gravitated towards each other. Jungkook had to admit that Yura was a sweet girl. She was beautiful, and when she smiled it was like sunshine.

Yoongi interrupted his train of thought. “Yura is kind of a complicated subject to our marriage. I would never, ever cheat on someone I loved. And I loved Yn, so much. When you introduced Yura to me, I was happy to meet a new friend and that’s all I saw, but the more you made me hang out with you guys, the more I started to see something in her that I stopped seeing in Yn. I never meant to have any sort of romantic feelings for Yura, but it happened and I feel so fucking shitty for doing that to Yn when I’m the one who promised her a lifetime together.”

Jungkook straightened his posture as Yoongi’s confession.

“Wait, what do you mean by that?” He asked.

“By what?” Yoongi looked at him confused.

“What happened to Yn that pushed you to Yura?”

At this, Yoongi scratched his head.

“I wouldn’t say that it pushed me to Yura, but remember when I said Yn and I started getting distant? As time went on, I felt like she changed and I didn’t know who she was. She used to be so bubbly and happy and always wanting to go look at flowers, but towards the end of our marriage, she stayed holed up in our room no matter how much I asked her to spend time with me. Yura, she was happy to spend time with me. She made me feel like I could forget about everything just by talking to me.”

“Yura made you feel like how Yn used to make you feel?” Jungkook cut him off.

“Well… I guess so.”

Jungkook thought about this for a while but narrowed his eyes at his hyung.

“Hyung, answer this truthfully; do you love Yura?”

The tips of Yoongi’s ears turned red after hearing this.

“Love? I don’t know. I like her? I like the way she makes me feel. She’s beautiful and smart and she makes me happy.”

“Hyung, I don’t know if you realize this, but the way you described Yura is exactly the same way you described Yn.”

“What do you mean?”

“It sounds like you started liking Yura because she reminded you of Yn when you met her. So, do you really, truly like Yura? Or do you just like her because she reminds you of what you don’t have anymore?”

Yoongi lowered his head.

“I-I don’t know. I never thought of it like that.”

Jungkook put his hand on Yoongi’s back to comfort him. Obviously, the man was confused.

“I don’t know if this helps, but I just wanted to let you know that whenever I saw Yn, during those dinners or events, she never gave off the vibe that you described her to be. To me, she was quiet, reserved and never bothered trying to get to know us, your friends, or your business. That’s what she came off as. When you told us that you loved each other and that you eloped, I thought you were joking. When I saw her, she just seemed like the typical trophy wife. Just for show. I never liked her and wondered what you saw in her all the fucking time, but now after hearing this, and after being with her for a couple of hours, it’s obvious that something happened that fucked her up and then fucked your marriage up.” Jungkook ranted.

“I think you might need to reevaluate the relationship you had with Yn so we could help her recover from this whole amnesia thing and hopefully figure out what happened. Something definitely happened, but since I don’t know your marriage like you do, I don't know what it is. I feel guilty now after realizing that I might have had a hand in whatever the fuck she was going through. And maybe figure out what you’re going to do about Yura. Can you keep dating her when your feelings for her are based off of your feelings for your ex-wife, who is currently pregnant with your wife and doesn’t know about it?” He continued.

Yoongi took a deep breath, taking all of this conversation in.

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m almost done with the shit here at the company. When I go home, I’ll sort everything out and talk to Yn and Yura tomorrow. I don’t think I can keep seeing Yura with the current situation. I have to tell Yn about the pregnancy as soon as possible, but I’m scared because the doctor told me to monitor for residual symptoms for her concussion. I don’t even know where to begin with the situation.”

“It’s okay, hyung. I’m here for you. You have to tell her about the pregnancy before she finds out herself. In the meantime, I’ll help you out when you can’t take care of her. I already feel shitty enough for how I acted with her when you two were married. I feel like I had the wrong impression this whole time.” Jungkook offered.

Yoongi remembered the moment earlier when Jungkook confessed that he never liked you and that baffled him because he thought that you two, of all people, would get along well together. More often than not, he would feel jealous of Jungkook, who had your admiration when you first started dating. He remembered you always asking him to introduce you to Jungkook and it took a year for him to budge and actually make it happen.

“I’m sure you’ll get along now. I always thought you did get along. Did you know she liked you before?” Yoongi asked.

Jungkook shook his head. “I didn’t know until the other day when you had me take her home. It probably would have helped if you told me she knew who I was before you introduced us after you got together. She never acted like she was a fan of my music and admittedly, I was a dick to her.”

Yoongi glared at him. It was a first for him to hear about how Jungkook treated his ex-wife.

“Well, you should feel shitty because she really liked you and your music. For a while, I thought she liked you more than me. If I had known you were an asshole to her, I probably would have ripped you a new one. Hearing you admit you treated her like shit makes me feel like shit because I never knew and just assumed you guys were good with each other. You didn’t do or say anything bad to her, right? You’re not that type of person.”

Jungkook could only pretend to smile at Yoongi as he asked this.

He shook his head and lied. “No, never.”

Lying through his teeth to his best friend about how he treated you made his heart fall to his stomach. Well, Yoongi didn’t have to know because it was in the past. You couldn’t remember any of the mean things he’d said to you, so now was the perfect time to make a new, much better impression of himself to you. He decided days ago that he would be better, because deep down, he knew that you didn’t deserve to be treated like how he treated you.

[nov. 21, 2020]

Yoongi had taken the day off after his somewhat enlightening conversation with Jungkook last night. He decided that he needed to go see you and spend some time with you today, but before that, he needed to settle things with Yura.

They decided to meet up at his apartment for maximum privacy, just in case anything happened. He wanted to account for the worst case scenario of Yura probably getting angry and throwing things around, but he doesn’t think she’s the type of person to do dramatic things like that.

Turns out, she’s not. When he reluctantly tells her that he can’t continue on with what they had because of residual feelings for you, in addition to the fact that there were complications in that relationship that he can’t speak about carelessly, she had reacted calmly and amicably. Though Yoongi hadn’t expected her to throw a tantrum, he was expecting some kind of anger, but all he got was a sad look passing on her face followed by comforting words.

He apologized profusely for having dragged her around when he still had apparent feelings for his ex-wife and not figuring out his feelings for her, or lack thereof, sooner. She reassured him that it was okay and she’ll be fine.

“I’ll be fine Yoongi. I liked you, but it’s pretty obvious that you used me as some kind of rebound or replacement for your ex-wife, and I was okay with it. Truthfully, I was waiting for you to just come clean and break it off with me. I hope you and Yn figure things out this time, and I hope you can talk to her. Communication is important.” She reminds him before she leaves, but not before letting him know that she would always be there for him as a friend.

He had texted her after she left, and after a couple of minutes to himself, that he was thankful for her being so nice about the situation and all in all, he didn’t regret whatever short-lived affection they had for each other.

Yoongi still couldn’t believe how smoothly everything with Yura went. He hoped that the rest of the day would be the same.

☾

You woke up to a message from Jungkook asking if you were free, so you had to tidy up the apartment and yourself because you didn’t want to look messy in front of someone you had idolized for a long time.

Luckily enough, you didn’t have to cook since Jungkook offered to bring food. You thank your lucky stars for that because for some reason, you’ve been feeling incredibly sluggish and nauseous. It was probably some symptoms of the concussion you suffered. You remembered your doctor saying something about that the last time you were at the hospital.

About 20 minutes later, you heard your doorbell ring so practically skip to the door, excited to see Jungkook and steal the food that he brought.

You opened the door to see Jungkook standing there with a big back of food in his hands. He was wearing all black, with a leather jacket that looked a tad too big on him.

“You look warm.” You comment.

He rolled his eyes. “Are you gonna invite me in or not? I even brought you food.”

You laugh a little and move to the side to give him room to step inside the apartment.

“So, what have you been doing?” He asks as he makes his way to your dining room to put the food down.

You make your way to the kitchen to get some plates for the both of you.

“Nothing. I’ve been trying to look for some stuff but I don’t know where to start so I just gave up until you or Yoongi could come help.” You reply as you move to the dining room to set the plates down.

Jungkook takes the food out and puts some on the plates. Kimbap, like you asked, and some seaweed soup.

“How have you been feeling? Okay?” He questioned.

You nodded, though hesitantly.

“Eh, I’ve been feeling kind of tired. I think I might be sick because I keep wanting to vomit. Is that my wintermelon tea, by the way?” You pointed to the drink in his hand.

Jungkook poked the straw through the lid and handed it to you.

“Sick? Did you take any medicine? Are you feeling better now?”

You took a sip of your tea and sighed, missing the sweet taste of the drink. It felt nostalgic.

“Mhm, took some earlier and I'm feeling much better thanks to the food you brought!” You smiled.

Jungkook rolled his eyes jokingly once again. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

He didn’t think about your illness any further. It was probably a cold and nothing else.

For about 20 minutes, the two of you ate and spoke about little things, mostly about Jungkook and his career. It helped you get to know him a little bit better since he’s the only person besides Yoongi who could help you in your situation until Jin comes back.

After you finished eating, you told him that you needed his help going through your room in case there was anything that could jog your memory.

“I would ask Yoongi but he’s been busy lately.”

“So I’m just your last resort?”

“You’re literally the only other person in my contact list besides Yoongi and Jin.”

“Right, anyways, lead the way!” He exclaimed.

You laughed as you led him to the room at the end of the hallway.

“Sorry if it’s a little messy, I didn’t have that much time to clean up before you got here!” You explained.

Jungkook shook his head, telling you it didn’t really matter since it was gonna be a mess anyways while you two went through your things.

☾

When Jungkook walked into your room, he was once again hit with the feeling that he had no fucking clue who you were in the past years he’d known you. If he could describe your room in one word, it would be enchanting. White walls, white sheets adorn with a baby blue blanket, wooden floors, giant plants and a mirror much bigger than himself. Your desk was filled with different kinds of pens, different notebooks that look to have been trifled through, and an unnatural amount of books and crystals.

From the looks of the rest of your house, he probably shouldn’t be surprised at your bedroom, but it’s still a bit difficult for him to wrap his mind around the fact that you were this type of person. Bright, intelligent, and incredibly neat.

He walked up to your desk and picked up the different notebooks laid out messily on the table. When he opened each of them, he noticed that they were mostly blank, with the exception of a few doodles. There were some things he’d recognized as lyrics from songs he knew, but nothing truly relevant to the memories you lost.

You stood next to Jungkook and looked at the notebooks in his hands.

“I went through those already. Nothing but a few sad lyrics here and there. None of them triggered any memories.” You mentioned.

Jungkook put them down and started walking around the room with you as you talked about what you did find during the days that you were left alone. What he got from that conversation was that you had no luck with anything and that’s why you waited until either he or Yoongi could come over and help you. Jungkook knew that Yoongi was coming over later, so if he couldn’t help you find anything or answer any of your questions today, then maybe Yoongi could.

“Oh! I forgot to mention that I can’t even access any of my social media, so do you think I can look through my instagram through your phone? I mean, if that’s okay with you. I know some people feel uncomfortable giving their phone to someone else to play around with.” You asked.

Jungkook shook his head and stuck his hand in his pant pocket, reaching for his phone.

“It’s fine, you can look at your profile, I think I follow you. The password is 061313.” He stated as he handed his phone over to you.

You grabbed it excitedly, finally getting the chance to see what your life was like during the four years that were missing from your memory. You fell back onto your bed as you unlocked Jungkook’s phone and clicked on his instagram app quickly.

You took a look at his profile first, staring in awe at the pictures he’s posted. Most of his pictures are very dark and he had quite a few selfies. You smiled a little bit as you admitted in your head that he was indeed handsome.

Okay, Yn, onto the more important things! You thought to yourself as you quickly searched your username ‘faeyn’ on the search bar. At first you were excited, but it deflated when you saw just how many posts you had. 13 posts. And almost all of them were just landscapes. Some had pictures of you by yourself, or with Jin, but that was it. How the fuck were you supposed to try to figure out your life through 13 pictures?

Scrolling through each picture and their captions from the oldest to newest, you quickly realized that you must have decided that privacy was something that should be valued. There was nothing of substance to your situation in the captions you’d written. Just casual mentions of how your day was, or what you did that day. The only thing that caught your eye was the latest post you had, dated September 22. It was a picture of clouds and the caption said something about your therapist advising you to take a break, so you were going to be on a social media cleanse for a while.

Well, at least you learned one thing. Apparently, you started going to therapy again. For what? You don’t know. You only remembered going to therapy a couple of times after the whole incident with your bastard ex-boyfriend.

You filed this little detail into your brain and hoped that maybe it would make more sense later on. Swiping up on Jungkook’s phone took you to his home screen, but you paused for a little. Maybe you could snoop through some more apps and see if there was anything else you can find.

No, that would be an invasion of Jungkook’s privacy, you thought. Another part of you argued that he wasn’t going to know and he’s here to help you. If there was anything worth hiding, he wouldn’t have given you his phone and his password so easily. And if there was anything, it wouldn’t be incriminating since he mentioned that you two didn’t really know each other that well, so you shrugged and clicked on his messages.

I’ll just see if there are any messages to me. I won’t look at anything else, you justified, as if it made it any better.

After scrolling for a little while, you finally saw something worthwhile. A text convo between you and Jungkook and from the preview of the message, it looks like it was from the middle of September. You opened it, excited to see the contents, but what you saw made you furrow your brows.

What is this?

☾

After Jungkook gave you his phone, he continued walking around your room until he got to the side of your bed that was next to the window. He looked around for a bit and saw something in the corner of his eyes. Crouching down lower, he saw something on the floor behind your headboard. He couldn’t tell what it was at first, but as soon as he moved closer, he realized it was a thick notebook. Jungkook surmises that you probably hadn’t seen it despite telling him that you looked ‘everywhere’. He took the notebook and sat down on the floor, completely hiding his figure, but not before he could look at you. He wanted to see what was in the notebook before he showed it to you, and luckily enough, you had been facing away from him.

So he sat down and opened the notebook. From just the first page, he could tell it was some kind of diary or journal. There were lots of drawings and stickers and a picture of you in a field of flowers right in the middle of the first page. He flipped through the whole notebook really quickly and found that half of it was already filled.

A part of him wanted to read through the whole thing and see what kind of things you wrote, but another part told him that it wasn’t appropriate. Despite that, he convinced himself that he should read maybe just one entry, just to see if this notebook was something substantial to your current situation.

Jungkook took a peek at you again and noticed you still had your back turned to him so he took that as a sign that he could probably get away with reading an entry. He flipped to a page randomly and focused his eyes on the writing.

The entry was dated August 4, 2020. Fairly recent. He noticed that there were some dark blotches on the paper that made the ink bleed.

He began to read the entry, not knowing what he was going to find out.

It still seems weird to be writing about my problems in a journal. I’m still not used to it, but it’s been helpful since I don’t really have anyone to talk to about this.

That made him frown.

I went to my OBGYN today because I’ve been having severe cramps and bleeding, but I already had my period so I was worried. And the cramps were starting to really hurt, so I had to go get it checked out just in case. Well, apparently I was pregnant and lost the baby.

Jungkook’s eyes widened and he gasped audibly. Luckily enough, it wasn’t loud enough for you to notice. He clasped his hand over his mouth at the disbelief in reading this information. A miscarriage? And so recent, too. He didn’t know how to feel. Yoongi had never said anything about this.

Jin actually just left my house a couple of hours ago. I don’t think the news hit me until now. I texted Yoongi earlier to tell him but he was busy so I think that was a sign that I should probably not tell him. It’s not like it matters right? Since the baby was gone anyways.

I know my therapist told me to stop with the negative self-talk, but it’s moments like this that really push me to just keep thinking I’ll never be good enough for the men that I love. Thanks to my bastard ex for fucking my mind up like this. No matter how hard I try, I always just circle back to the fact that I wasn’t good enough for him, and that I’m not good enough for Yoongi. Even fate is telling me that I’m not good enough to carry a child with the man I love. How fucked up is that?

Jungkook’s heart dropped to his stomach. He felt sick. There were so many things going through his head right now. He felt like he was violating something that was so private. Yoongi didn’t even know that you went through this. You didn’t even know you went through this. He shut the journal quickly, wiping the tears that formed in his eyes.

At that exact moment, he heard your heavy breathing and quickly got up to check on you. He walked around to your side of the bed and found you trembling with his phone in your hands. He noticed that his messages were open and he began to panic.

“What the fuck is this?” was the last thing he heard you say before your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you fell limp into your bed.

← masterlist →

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[talkfantasytome]

Going to delete ask posts that directly linked other people's posts, based on this feedback and suggestion (which I thoroughly appreciate!), as I'm not trying to point fingers at anyone or directly tell a specific person they're wrong. I'll repost the general content, with a summary of what was asked, starting with this post.

Anon Ask: Some people are saying that SJM has confirmed Vassien by saying that she'd like to do retellings of firebird legends, swan lake, and Vasilisa the Beautiful, using some shots of her comments. What are your thoughts on this? And the time on facebook that Sarah said E\ain and Lucien have a lot of "tension, growth, and healing to be found (together)".

The most important thing to consider here is timeline. Both of the twitter shown were made in April of 2015. The first one is, honestly, fairly irrelevant. First of all, she's just saying fairy tales she might like to retell. And, for the record, she has also said she'd like to do a retelling of The Little Mermaid, yet often people disregard that as an argument for Gwynriel. So, either her comments on what she'd like to do a retelling of matter, or they don't.

And, if they're saying that those comments are foreshadowing a Vassa + Lucien book, then clearly The Little Mermaid comments are foreshadowing a Gwynriel book. And then...where's E\ain's?

E\ain is getting a book, so which fairy tale gets the short straw?

Or, maybe, the story won't be exactly like the fairy tale.

I do think that both of those comments are important, but Sarah said she wants to do a retelling.

That could literally mean anything. All that tells us is that she will take themes and ideas from the story. I'm not saying Vassa won't be important in a later book, but Sarah can retell the story any way. She could have Vassa betray E\ain, get Koschei to transfer the curse over to the middle Archeron, and now E\ain is the swan on the lake (cause, come on, E\ain's def. a bit swan-like), and Lucien has to rescue her. Or, maybe Jurian is the one that rescues Vassa while Lucien and E\ain deal with Koschei?

There are so many options in a retelling that to say SJM telling us she wants to do a retelling of these stories is a clear sign that Vassa + Lucien are endgame is, honestly, not a very critical analysis.

I'm going to address this tweet next:

This twitter exchange happed April 30, 2015. ACOMAF was published in May of 2016. This post can not be used as foreshadowing of Vassa + Lucien, because it happened before we found out E\ain and Lucien are mates. That "at some point further down the road" literally means "any time after book 1".

People keep using this tweet and presenting it as if Sarah's response came recently. They're spreading misinformation - it may not be purposeful, they may not have seen or noticed the date, but this twitter exchange can't be used as proof that Lucien's person has to be someone other than E\ain, because when it was made we did not know about the Lucien and E\ain possibility.

That doesn't mean it definitely is talking about E\ain, but my point is that this is not proof of Vassa + Lucien, of someone else + Lucien, because of when it was posted.

As for other comments on retellings Sarah would like to do - it's the same argument as the first one. Sarah said she wants to do a retelling of the firebird and swan like. We all know this. It's not new information. People who are saying Vassa + Lucien won't happen aren't ignorant of this fact. We're well aware, and we're also well aware of every other thing Sarah has said, mentioned, foreshadowed, and we're tying it all together. Focusing solely on stories Sarah has mentioned she'd like to retell - not confirmed she will retell - and ignoring everything else doesn't provide a solid analysis. You have to weave how those stories would fit into the grander scheme, and look at the other surrounding factors as well.

And, again, we need to remember that Sarah can do whatever the hell she wants in terms of the story and how she chooses to retell a fairy tale. I mean, how often is Little Red Riding Hood turned into a werewolf story? And sometimes even Red is the wolf?

Writers use fairy tales as a base, a foundation, but then they make it their own. No writer is going to tell the fairy tale exactly how it first was. They're going to adjust it...a lot...to make it their own story.

I'd also like to point out that both times she mentions Vasilisa, she says "Vasilisa the Beautiful". The first time she also said 'the Brave', but the second, solely 'Beautiful'. Vassa is beautiful, of course, but one of E\ain's defining characteristics is her beauty. Even in ACOSF it was again mentioned, discussed, about how her beauty made others hate her.

Could Vassa be Vasilisa...of course. However, I think people are a bit blinded by the similarities in names. Remember, Vasilisa the Beautiful wasn't the firebird - those are different stories. And, honestly, after doing a bit of research into the tale, I'm starting to get more and more sure of the thought that the character who would portray Vasilisa is E\ain.

I think I'm going to do a post on it...

In the later comment on retellings she'd like to do - which we know came after the first as the first came out in August 2015 and that story she's telling was given after the second set of books was confirmed - I also find it interesting that she said Vasilisa the Beautiful (specifically) and Swan Lake, subbing out the firebird.

Why would she do that? Perhaps because she's already brought in the firebird pieces she planned to bring in. We already know that retelling, and how it's come to play. Vassa is a firebird by the curse.

I'm not saying it couldn't end in a Swan Lake thing, as that is what the curse reminds me of. But, personally, I think the fact that she's saying Swan Lake now is also symbolic of something more, possibly another character getting trapped by Koschei.

As for the other piece you asked about, I don't have much to say about it, because it feels like the closest we'll come to an elucien confirmation.

That was also posted a while ago, back when ACOMAF came out. So, it's not like this is recent information Sarah is providing us. However, we know that Sarah can sometimes end up choosing endgame based on gut and things that just hit her. Cassian and Nesta - literally didn't know about them until she wrote them on the same page and was like "oh shit". So Sarah saying that she and Lucien didn't see E\ain coming...I'm sorry, but that feels almost more telling than even the next part of the sentence - where she says they have growing and healing to do together.

That's so huge. And we haven't seen that yet. We've only really seen the tension.

Sarah said this back when ACOMAF came out. And it was around writing or publishing ACOWAR that she got the okay for the second set of books (I think?). Which means she was likely thinking about the longer-term stories before that. Which would explain why we didn't get that growth and healing in ACOWAR.

Instead, she left them in a spot where it seemed like a possibility, and then for the later books has just added more tension. But that journey is still there. She's had it planned for so long. And yes, maybe she could change her mind, but we only know of two cases where she did just that:

Az and Mor

Nesta and Lucien

For Az and Mor it was because she decided to make Mor bisexual and unable to be in an emotional relationship with a male. This was due to complaints over diversity. It's the closest Sarah's probably come to 'fanservice' - except, admittedly, this is so not fanservice. Fanservice is doing something like, say, having Voldemort and Bellatrix have a secret love child despite the fact that Voldy never once came off as having any form of romantic or sexual feelings for her or anyone, ever. (Seriously, that guy was asexual and that is a hill I'll die on.)

Adjusting a character due to legitimate complaints and concerns on diversity, not just fanservice. It's more a full on social service, really, to try and provide that representation better. Yes, it wasn't done in the best way, but she did make an attempt.

The second one - Nesta and Lucien. That was her general plan, until she put Nesta and Cassian on page together. Then it all went out the window. Just like all of Nesta's thoughts when she saw Cassian. Just like Cassian's entire brain when he saw Nesta. 👀

And we get it, because we see it too.

So, while Sarah could have changed her mind about E\ain and Lucien, the only reasons she'd do that don't yet apply. She's already made a change for the diversity complaints, and I don't see her doing that with these two. As for finding out they actually belong with someone else when she sees them on page - well, that hasn't happened yet. She made the E\ain + Lucien decision after we see E\ain and Azriel interact, so clearly Az is not that for E\ain. And we've seen Lucien and Vassa on page together. There's nothing there except Lucien being pained about her curse - which, yeah, she's his friend. How often is one IC member described as looking pained for another? Or thinks about how much it hurt them to see their friend hurt?

But we know what it looks like when the chemistry is so undeniable it will adjust Sarah's plans. And if you're not sure - go back and read all the Nessian scenes in ACOMAF. And then see the one scene where Lucien and Vassa are on page together - I think you'll find there's another male there that, with Vassa, rings closer to the Nessian home.

There was no on page chemistry between Vassa and Lucien, and certainly not enough to change Sarah's mind. Which would also mean E\ain already wasn't meant for Az, which is likely why no one arguing for Vassa + Lucien seems to care as much about that, because most people who ship them are already dead set on E\ain + Azriel.

So, there you have it, my point of view/rant on those two pieces. But it's always important to look at the context of a post, and especially the "source material" people use to provide proof. It's why I tend to stick to the text where I can, and only use SJM statements that don't have an expiration date to their importance. SJM saying something about how she loves happily ever afters, for example, no expiration date. SJM telling us in 2015 that there is someone special for Lucien down the road - an expiration date after the first sign of a possible love interest for Lucien. Once E\ain was declared to be his mate, that statement became irrelevant, because regardless of whether it will be E\ain or not, you can no longer state that it's clearly hinting at someone else, since E\ain is a love interest for Lucien.