#just like. relax and remember we're all just some person out here existing and it works out fine
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mcmissileproof · 8 months ago
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you gotta treat trans people like regularass people. just be decent and don't overthink shit. it's fine. it's fine
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gentlebeardsbarngrill · 7 months ago
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04/20/2024 Daily OFMD Recap
TLDR; David Jenkins; Con O'Neill; Jes Tom; Damien Gerard; Save OFMD Crew; Relax I'm From the Future; Fan Spotlight: Our Flag Means Fanfiction; Cast Cards; Colouring Pages; Articles; Love Notes; Daily Darby Tonight's Taika.
== David Jenkins ==
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Img Src: David's IG / Kinga's IG
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Img Src: @vannakitty's IG
== Con O'Neill ==
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Img Src: @CorinSilvas IG
== Jes Tom ==
On WED MAY 15th show at 9PM, Jes Tom will be at Asian Comedy Fest at Sugar Mouse in NYC! Want tickets? Visit Asian Comedy Fest
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Img Src: Jes Tom's IG
== Damien Gerard ==
Damien having a lovely hair down kinda day :) Img Src: Damien's IG
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== Save OFMD Crew ==
Save OFMD Digital Advertising van follow up! Last month the trust overheated halfway through the paid for window so yesterday it got it's final chance to show streamers how much we want out show back. Src: @saveofmdcrewmates Tumblr
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== Relax I'm From The Future! ==
Relax I'm From The Future is streaming in AoNZ! Thank you @wastingyourgum for keeping us posted <3
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== Fan Spotlight ==
= Our Flag Means Fanfiction =
Coming Monday 04/22, our awesome crewmates over at Our Flag Means Fanfiction will be running a "The Lore of the Ring" episode! Check it out when it comes out Monday!
Src: Our Flag Means Fanfiction IG
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== Cast Cards ==
As always, our awesome crewmate @melvisik is keeping us busy with more cast cards! Today is Cerris Morgan Moyer, or otherwise known in OFMD as "Victoria Archer, who assured Mary Allamby that her future husband was not some derelict..." Thanks Mel!
Src: @melvisik's Twitter
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= OFMD Colouring-In Pics =
More colouring pages from our lovely crewmate @patchworkpiratebear! Get your creativity on and color in some OFMD related art! I may or may not be printing these off for my son and I to work on tomorrow... PatchworkPirateBear's Tumblr
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== Articles ==
Our friends over at @adoptourcrew on twitter highlighted some great articles over on twitter. AdoptOurCrew Twitter Article Thread Forbes Article on Black Sails (mentions OFMD)
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7 Shows Like The Great
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Sun Article on Historical Series
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== Love Notes ==
Happy Saturday my dears! I hope you are finding some time to relax today-- it feels like this past week was like a month long! We're coming up on the beginning of the week again so please remember to get some rest tonight if you can.
Do you ever feel anxious for seemingly no reason? Do you feel like you start talking to a group and then somehow everything just feels 10 times heavier? I know I do a lot. That's the part of our brains that have been dealing with so much crap for so long that it's trying to protect us from potential emotional harm again. It's been trained to question whether or not we've said the right thing, if our tone was non-offensive enough, if we're annoying someone.
It's doing it out of protection for us, but it can make things a lot harder in the long run. If you're feeling that kind of anxiety, please remember that it may just be your brain chemistry...and most likely no ones upset with you, or feeling like you're awkward, even if you yourself feel that way. You haven't done anything wrong with engaging with others, and you certainly deserve a chance to do so. Tell your brain to take a break too-- take a shower, or a bath, or heck, just splash some cold water on your face. We are our own worst critics lovelies, and sometimes we have to put a mute button on our own inner voice to get some peace.
You're doing great lovelies. Remember that. Don't let the anxiety succeed at making you feel like you're not good enough. You are good enough, and you're doing great. Finally, here's your gentle reminder to please go eat something, and definitely drink some water. I know it's a lot just to exist sometimes, but you're making it happen, be proud of yourself for that. You got this <3 Sending love and good vibes <3.
== Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika ==
While I don't personally partake-- tonight's theme is 420! Hope all who celebrated had a great and chill time <3
Gifs courtesy of @blakbonnet (darby) and @stedebonnets (ed)
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jebewonmorelike · 2 years ago
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I Hate You, (I Want You), Seok Matthew
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wc: 1.6k warnings: angst with a happy/fluff ending; swearing; mentions of hook-up culture; drinking (reader is 21, 3rd year of college); frat/party setting pronouns: none used; reader has a femme best friend summary: fratboy!matthew au oops ~masterlist~ ♡ ~kofi (no pressure at all)~ matthew is that sweet, introspective fratboy that respects his partners that we all wish existed, but literally never will. so enjoy pretending that boys are nice through this little fic. love u. &lt;3
Matthew Seok made your blood boil.
And none of your friends could understand why.
You'd spent many a night in your dorm, tipsily listing all of his infuriating tendencies and desperately trying to rally support for your Anti-Matt campaign.
But no matter how many times you explained it to them, they just shrugged you off. And if you were being honest with yourself, you couldn't really blame them. There was a time not so long ago when you only saw his good traits, too.
But that was before.
And now all you wanted to do was take the girls that waited for him in the hallway by the shoulders and shake them until their rose-colored glasses fell off.
Your distaste for Matthew Seok was so strong that you'd started avoiding places you liked to go, since every time you left your dorm you somehow had the misfortune of bumping into him. And you just couldn't stomach it: turning the corner, meeting his eyes, walking away before he could say anything...
The feeling of your heart dropping to your stomach.
You hated it.
You hated him.
"Get dressed, we're going out," your friend Megan announces as she walks through the door, startling you out of your boredom-induced daze.
"What? Why?" You ask quickly, not liking the determined look on her face.
"Because you've done nothing but go to class and sit here at your desk pretending to do homework for a month straight. You're an undeclared Liberal Arts major... How much homework could you possibly have?"
You pouted. "What are you trying to say?"
She smiles, walking over to you and placing a hand on your shoulder. "It's time for some fun."
You groan.
"Oh, come on! You used to love fun. Every day you were off on some little adventure and every night you were dancing in the living room of one godforsaken frat house or another," Megan says, giving you a pitiful look. "I can't let you sit here any longer, lovey. I just can't."
A long sigh escapes you as you look up at your friend. You remember when you first met her at freshman orientation, standing there shy and meek with a mint green sweater on. When everyone broke off into groups to eat lunch, you'd both been left in the courtyard alone to fend for yourselves. You'd eaten lunch with her every day since then for the last two and a half years. And you’d both changed a considerable amount in that time.
"Fine," you finally grumble, watching her pleading look turn to a satisfied grin.
"Good. Let's make you hot again," she says, running to the closet and flinging the door open.
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN AGAIN!?"
~
Staring up at the familiar old house, you feel your heart speed up. You didn't realize how quickly you'd fallen out of practice. Every weekend you used to make a stop here, claiming the reason for your frequent visiting was that you liked the star projector they’d set up in the living room.
And you did like it.
It made him look even prettier.
You shake your head rapidly in an attempt to silence the thought. It’s useless now that you know what kind of a person Matthew Seok really is.
"Hey. Don't be nervous," Megan says, taking your hand in hers and squeezing it. "He's not here, babe. He went home this weekend. I still don’t really know what you’re deal with him is, but I checked for you anyway.”
Already you feel your shoulders relax. Of course he's not here. Megan wouldn't bring you here if he was.
You look hot for nothing.
Your hands fly to your head in exasperation at the sound of the intrusive thought.
"You've got this, (y/n). You're still the reigning star here, you know. All anybody ever asks me is when you're coming out again," Megan says with a convincing grin.
You bite your lip and smile. "I guess I can give the people what they want."
"That's the spirit babe!" She exclaims, dragging you up the front steps and to the door. A tall guy opens it and walks out at the same time you and Megan approach.
"OH SHIT! Tiny Dancer is back!" Johnny shouts, his hand flying out to take yours. "Fucking missed you, dude."
You smile, shaking his hand. "I've just been really busy the past few weeks."
"Well, it's a special night then. Drink up!" Johnny says, pulling a beer from his pocket and handing it to you.
"Thanks," you say, popping the top and taking a sip as you and Megan walk through the door and into the frat house. The lights are all off, the house only illuminated by LED light strips, a disco ball, and your favorite star projector.
"YOOOOO! Tiny Fucking Dancer!" You hear someone shout from across the room and feel the blush creep onto your cheeks. You're too sober for this attention after being away from it for over a month. Megan pulls you into the living room as a bunch of intoxicated partygoers rush over to greet you.
"Where've you been!?" Brian asks, patting you on the back. “There’s been a distinct lack of uninhibited dancing in our house this month.”
"I've just had a lot going on recently," you reply as nonchalantly as possible, trying your best to keep up with all the hugs and the questions. You were starting to feel overwhelmed, looking around the room for a place to sit so you could breathe for a second.
That's when you spot him.
Wide eyes meeting yours, lips slightly parted in the way they always were when you used to catch him staring.
Your breath hitches in your throat as you're frozen in place. He doesn't look away. But someone has to.
"Can someone please pour me a ton of shots!?" You shout the request, the crowd around you bubbling with excitement as you migrate with them into the kitchen.
As Brian lines up five shots for you (one for every weekend you've missed), Megan grabs your hand and squeezes it.
"I swear Johnny said he'd be gone. I'm so sorry," she apologizes and you know she means it from the look on her face.
You do your best to shrug it off. "Just do some shots with me."
She squeezes your hand again. "Are you sure?"
You nod, picking up the first glass and knocking it back. Vodka. The liquid stings your throat and you wish you had something other than Johnny's gross warm beer as a chaser. "By the time you start, I'll already be done!"
With that, Megan takes the empty shot glass from your hand and pours it full as she joins you for the next one.
~
You're dancing now.
On a usual night, you were the only one dancing in the middle of the living room floor as people made out, played stupid games, or watched you and giggled.
But when you were drunk, you just didn't care. All you wanted to do was move. A tipsy mind meant a fluid body and you could never turn down the opportunity to completely lose yourself in the shitty music with the base cranked up and the tacky LED light strips on the walls.
But tonight, everyone was dancing. Maybe it was a special night, after all.
Only now does the crowd die out, people gathering in the kitchen for beer pong or going upstairs to hook up (ahem, Megan and Brian). But you couldn't stop even if you wanted to.
"The dance floor missed you."
You freeze. You were so happy you'd almost forgotten he was here.
Almost.
"Can I talk to you?"
You turn around slowly to face him. He's wearing a jean jacket over a white university hoodie and his hair flops boyishly in his eyes. It's like a knife to the heart.
You hate him.
You hate him for making you feel this way.
"I'm busy," you say, biting your lip as you look away.
"I know. I didn't ask you to stop," Matthew replies, the smallest smile tugging at his lips.
You swallow hard at the sight. "I don't want to talk to you."
"Yeah, I've kind of pieced that together," he says, a hand reaching to the back of his neck. "And I understand why."
"Do you?" You ask now, finally meeting his gaze as another wave of liquid courage hits you. "Well that's good news, Matt! I'm so glad that you've come to understand how going out with someone else after you told me you liked me might be upsetting to me. Now, maybe, you can leave me alone forever."
"I didn't.”
You blink back at him in silence. Eventually, you laugh. "Sure you didn't."
"I didn't," he says, sincere eyes locked on yours. "I know Johnny said that I was going out with someone else. But I only told the guys that to get them off my back. They kept hounding me about why I wasn't hooking up with anyone anymore."
Your heart beats so hard that you swear it melded with the base.
"I just really didn't want to tell them how I felt about you. You saw how fast that stupid lie I told spread across campus. They would've ruined everything before it even started."
You nod slowly. "So you ruined it instead."
He sighs despondently and then nods. "I did. I never meant for this to happen. And I'm really sorry."
You just look at him for a few moments. The perfect curve of his annoying lips, the refined angle of his infuriating jawline, the entirely cliche sparkle of his stupid eyes...
And the little star-shaped lights making constellations across his face.
The truth was you hated Matthew Seok.
"Dance with me," you say, stepping back and reveling in the grin on his face as he follows. Wrapping his arms around your waist and moving with you to the rhythm of the music, your lips find their way to his in the glow of the lameass LED lights.
You hated Matthew Seok because he made you want him.
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fandomlovingfreak · 1 year ago
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By the Cliffs (Ch 4/?)
Paul Lahote x Female Reader
Wattpad I AO3
Rating: T+
Word Count: 1604
Summary: It was supposed to be a vacation.
A time to relax after Graduate School and unwind the pent-up tension I'd built up in the years of juggling school and work. Finally, I'd have the chance to breathe. Craving the serenity of mother nature's caress, I'd chosen Forks, a four-hour drive from the University, based on the stories I'd heard from Washington locals I'd known in school. With its endless trees and rainy weather, it seemed a perfect sleepy dream spot.
In retrospect, my belief that it was solely my decision to visit and not the Universe's mystic call pulling me there was mortal ignorance. But who besides a creature possessing the gift of predestination could have anticipated what awaited me by the cliffs?
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or any of the characters Created by S. Meyers. This work is not created for profit or financial compensation, and is a transformative fair use work in accordance with Section 107 of the United States Copyright Act.
Notes: There are some canon changes in this fic. I won't get into the nitty gritty details in the notes (I will repost this fic with more information): 1. Quil and Jacob do not imprint on children 2. Wolves change at 18 not 16, 3. Imprinting will be different and less like a phenomenon where they have no free will.
Warnings: Imprinting, swearing
Enjoy!
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  "(y/n)!" I follow Paul's imprint into the house. The anger still lingers on her face when she turns toward me. Damn, despite looking like she could kill someone, she was still really pretty. Paul was one lucky bastard; he better grovel on his knees for this girl.
"Can I talk to you?"
(y/n) looks momentarily conflicted, her eyes landing on the floor as she mulls over giving me the time of day or not. It feels like minutes pass before her eyes meet mine, "Fine. I guess I sort of owe you for saving my life... Talk about what?"
I motion towards her, trying to give her as much space as possible in an attempt to make her feel comfortable around me, "About... everything. I can answer any questions or just talk... about the situation?"
A wave of emotions washes over her face. Embarrassment, annoyance, sadness-- and then nothing.
"Fine. But I don't want an audience. Having everyone watch me yell at... him was enough embarrassment for one day."
I nod, "We can take a walk! There's a cool path not too far from here."
(y/n) agrees, following me out the back door and to the right of the house. For a while, we just walk. It feels like the right move to let her calm down completely after what had to be one of the most overstimulating days of her life. I remember how confusing it was when I learned about our world. Of course, I was the wolf, not just someone thrust into the world of supposed myths and legends, but seeing what she saw and finding out some random guy now considered her his perfect match wasn't something you woke up expecting.
I break the silence once we've been walking for around ten minutes. The guys can probably still hear, but (y/n) doesn't need to know that, "Lay your questions on me. It's not every day strangers reveal the existence of shapeshifters to you." 
"A million, honestly. I'm not sure where to start."
Nodding, I say, "That's understandable."
"Are you all-- I mean, I only saw a few of you..." She scrunches her nose, "Do you all turn into wolves?"
"Yes. We call ourselves a pack. Brothers, even if it's not technically true. Well-- and Leah. Brothers and Leah."
"Who's Leah?" (y/n) asks interested.
"Leah is the only female shapeshifter in our history. She's-- well, she's Seth's sister. You haven't met our most obnoxious pack-member yet."
"So, shapeshifters-- they're usually only male? That doesn't seem fair." Her words register with her, and she looks away, embarrassed to be interested in any of this.
I shrug, "I personally think phasing is cool. Being a member of our group, we're pretty exclusive, you know. But, most, including Leah, don't feel the same way."
"Why?" Her brow furrows slightly.
I grasp for the words, trying to say exactly the right thing. "It makes life abnormal. You can't really live like a regular human when the shadow of your wolf lives within you. Weird things can cause you to phase-- heightened emotion, anger... It's hard to control yourself sometimes." I hesitate before continuing, "Paul's one of them that still struggles, and he's been phasing since he was eighteen."
"Lovely," sarcasm drips from her lips, "And that's the one I'm cosmically stuck to."
I chuckle. I really, really like (y/n). Paul better not mess this up. "It's intense. I'm aware. Maybe it's too much to deal with for one person."
"It's ridiculous, is what it is. I don't know how this happened to me." She crosses her arms over her chest.
"It's really not as bad as you think, I promise."
"Have you-- imprinted on someone?" She tilts her head in interest.
Embarrassment floods my body. Maybe I wasn't the person for this conversation after all, "No... but because I phased when Paul did, I heard his thoughts as he imprinted. So, I have an idea what it's like."
She perks up at this confession, "What do you mean heard his thoughts?"
"That's the annoying part about being a shapeshifter. When we're wolves, we hear all of each other's thoughts. Like—" I cringe as the embarrassing memory reappears at the front of my mind, "Like you can't think about the girl you're seeing without the entire pack knowing every detail or if you're trying to keep a secret... we'll we can't, I guess is the gist."
"What did--" her eyes dart away, a frown pulling at the edges of her lips, "what was it like? When he-- imprinted."
I chuckle, "If I tell you, you have to promise not to tell Paul I told
you. He'll kill me, I swear."
(y/n) rolls her eyes, "I promise I won't."
Pretending to be worn down by her questions, I say, "Fine... It was like his world sort of stood still in the moment his eyes met yours. Imprinting does that, slowing down the universe's rotation as the center changes its focus. The focus changed to you. Everything that is Paul, now reaches to you only. Like you're the gravity that holds him to the ground. That's the... short version of his thoughts at that moment."
She blinks rapidly, "That's a lot."
A grin rises to my lips, "Yeah, I guess so. I've always thought it was sort of romantic."
(y/n) scoffs, "Of course you do. Try being on the receiving end, buddy."
"Hear me out! It's like... well, the most common—human interpretation would be a soulmate. But an imprint isn't strictly limited to the human idea of a soulmate. I guess it could be a platonic relationship. Really, whatever you needed from him, Paul would be it. But, all the imprints I know, I guess, are... romantic relationships now. It's a really intense sensation; I'm not surprised you reacted angrily towards him." I want to continue, to tell her how much she reflected Paul in that way. She scoffed at his inability to keep his cool, but twenty minutes later, she'd yelled just as ferociously at him. The stars align themselves in funny ways.
For a moment, (y/n) is quiet, her eyes glued to the tree line.
"It is a lot," she finally admits. Her face turns toward me, "But what if I don't want it?"
This question takes me aback. I know Emily had been-- cautious, even going as far as initially rejecting Sam's imprint. But that had mainly been because of Leah's feelings. (y/n) didn't have a third party to worry about, no obvious reason for rejecting Paul's imprint on her. Only her current annoyance with Paul and his temper. Or maybe there was more she hadn't revealed. I found her hard to read.
"We don't know exactly what would happen," I glance away, unease running up my spine, "But, in the short-term? It would cause Paul a lot of pain. Emotionally and physically..." My words trail off, seeing how I'd accidentally reset the fire in her eyes.
"How is that fair?" She stands, stepping toward the trees before turning back to face me, "My choice to leave will harm him? I just have to accept this or live knowing I'm a bad person? How are these my only choices?"
I don't touch her, but close some of the distance between us, "I'm not saying-- give in and immediately be with him or even be best friends. Make him work for it a bit. Work for your acceptance of the imprint, but allow him to be around you. It'll soothe the need to be nearby, but you'll have the choice in the direction the relationship progresses. You can be friends only if it's all you want in the end."
The anger on her face fades with every sentence, and I can tell she's seeing the humor in the situation, "Something tells me being friends isn't what Paul's looking for."
I chuckle, raising my shoulders apologetically. She was probably right; I guess it was an imprint thing, knowing the other's feelings without confirmation, "Maybe not. But, Paul thinks you're pretty." He'd kill me if he knew I'd revealed that thought to her.
(y/n)'s eyes widen, and I realize she was embarrassed to hear this. Interesting.
"Quit telling me stuff like that!"
"We're friends, and Paul's a jerk. Telling you all his secrets is my long-awaited revenge."
"We're friends?" Her voice comes out softly, a small smile rising on her lips.
"Duh, obviously," I playfully punch her arm, "You owe me after I saved your life and everything."
(y/n) rolls her eyes, "Wasn't it you who caused me to hit my head in the first place?"
"That is-- technically true, but I could've left you there unconscious, and I didn't. So you're welcome or whatever."
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  My head whips towards the noise of sticks cracking under a person's weight. Paul stands there ten feet away. The first thing I notice is the t-shirt he wears. None of them seemed to wear a lot of clothing for whatever reason.
"Can we talk?" The words come out of his mouth with an edge of hesitancy. I mentally note that it's the second time he's said those exact words to me today. But, unlike the last time he'd said it, I don't feel angry or awkward. Sure, I wasn't exactly the guy's number-one fan, but I had a better grasp on what the hell was happening behind those dark eyes.
"Yes," I move without a thought towards him, stopping for a second to look back at my new friend. "Thanks for talking, Quil. I appreciate it."
Quil beams, "Anytime, (y/n)."
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coraniaid · 1 year ago
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Top 5 parents? (in Buffy and/or Angel)
(Top 5 anything.)
Hmm.  I'm not sure there are as many as five unambiguously good parents in Buffy.  But, uh, let's see.
5) Joyce Summers [from Season 1's Welcome To The Hellmouth until ... well, you know.]
Cons: Famously doesn't react well to finding out that her only daughter is metaphorically bisexual.
Pros: Reacts a lot better to finding out her other daughter is metaphorically adopted.  Did lie to the police for Buffy at least once, and used an ax to protect her from a vampire.  Brought Buffy a nice dress to fight the Master in, and later bonded over a mutual dislike of Principal Snyder.
I've said before -- and will continue to say -- that I think Joyce is treated very unfairly by the fandom (particularly compared to how the fandom talks about Giles, who you'll note is not on this list for any number of reasons).  That said, while I think the show is actually very consistent about the fact that Buffy loves her mother and wants her mother's approval (it's not an inconsistency just because you personally don't like Joyce!), it's pretty inarguable that Joyce does and says a number of terrible things.  Which if she were a real person would matter a lot more than it actually does.
Ultimately, I think Joyce Summers tried to march in the Slayer Pride parade but did a pretty lousy job of it. Even when she wasn't being possessed or magically mind-controlled by a demon or a warlock or an evil robot (which … happens a lot, doesn’t it?).  The fact she's on this list at all is more of an indictment of the other options than it is an endorsement of her as a parent.
(Obviously I'm ignoring the big Normal Again retcon here, which I just don't think makes sense with what we see of Buffy and Joyce in the first five seasons of the show.  But yeah, if I accepted that as canon obviously Joyce wouldn't be anywhere near the list, even by Sunnydale's abysmally low standards.)
4) Amy Madison's dad [from Season 1's Witch]
Cons: Left his pre-teen daughter to be raised by a abusive mother who would go on to learn witchcraft and steal her daughter's body using evil magic. Never actually appeared on screen in the show.  Or given a name.
Pros: Don't think he knew about the witch part.  Definitely guilty about the whole thing afterwards anyway.  Amy seems pretty happy that he's back in her life at the end of the episode. Not involved in the whole witch-burning thing in Gingerbread, for some reason (well, okay, it’s because nobody bothered to cast an actor to play him or even remembered that Amy had a father, I guess).
A deleted scene from Season 6 suggests Amy's dad goes back to being a terrible parent later on, and even ignoring that he is kind of conspicuous by his absence after this one episode.  Letting your teenage daughter eat brownies whenever she wants: good parenting!  Letting your teenage daughter visit magical crack dens whenever she wants: significantly less good parenting!
3) Oz's Aunt Maureen [from Season 2's Phases]
Cons: Literally only exists on the show for a single five second phone call where we don't hear her or see her on screen.
Pros: Seems pretty relaxed about the fact that her son is a werewolf (that's not a pro for Oz, sure, but hey, we're not ranking how good an aunt she is).  Trumps Amy's dad by virtue of having a name.
I hope things worked out okay for little Jordy and the many, many werewolves he unwittingly sired by biting people when he was a kid.
2) Buffy Summers [from Season 5's Forever onwards] 
Look, she's Dawn legal guardian, so she counts.
Cons: Not as good with Dawn's social worker as a literal sex robot was. Tried to kill Dawn one time when she was possessed (... hey, I guess at least Joyce would be proud?).  Managed to miss the fact Dawn was skipping school … and dating a vampire … and stealing from the magic shop.  (She had a difficult year, okay?)
Pros: Made up for the social worker stuff by ... uh, turning invisible and ruining said social worker's life.  Literally died to protect Dawn from being murdered by a god in Season 5. Then worked incredibly hard for two years to protect Dawn from an even more terrible fate (having to go back to LA to live with Hank Summers).  
For somebody who was terrified by the thought of becoming her mother (whether played for laughs as in Season 2's Bad Eggs, or for real in Season 5), I think Buffy does a pretty good job with Dawn.
1) Nikki Wood [first seen in Season 5's Fool For Love flashbacks]
Cons: None.
Pros: She's perfect.
Lies My Parents Told Me can fuck right off.
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edge-oftheworld · 5 months ago
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thinking about i'm still your boy and how from the very start i thought this will be one that grows on me, even if i didn't fall in love with it on the first listen
thinking about how every line adds insecurities to the emotional soundscape of the song, reminding me of chords where you add one note and then the next but they're sustained so each one just keeps playing while the next one joins its sound
sat in the driveway (tired from a drive i'm not sure i should've done) but i can't go in (worrying about seeing someone inside the house) the green fence is fading (it's been so long since i was last/first here) it's sinking in (yeah all of this now i'm questioning what am i doing) wish i was younger (regret, fear of getting older) so i knew the end (fear of uncertainty and bad endings, actually, a terror something i need so badly could go wrong) i'd move to orlando and i'd be your friend (daydreaming about a past that never existed but it suits my fantasy even though there never was a possibility) tore you apart to put me back again (regret, why can't i just exist without hurting people) time's such a bastard and I'm wearing thin (frustration) still in chicago with things that i miss (fragments of me i've left everywhere and i'm spiralling thinking of the good and bad of each place) you can't have tequila without half a gram (remembering my own addictive tendencies and how when i see it in my loved ones i get worried, when i see it in myself i feel ashamed)
it was alright til i got angry. made a fist hole shape in the wall. regret. shame on myself for feeling like that. ruining it. self blame
but with everything that's built up til this point it's no wonder really, no wonder the noise became so loud and so layered in my head that i had to go and punch a wall? i can feel it, my nervous system slowly activating, everything stacking up, i can feel it, not knowing, not understanding what was coming thinking if i could push it down i could maybe overpower it but instead i escape through substances or i go and punch a wall hard enough to break it. you've seen me do both.
i'm still your boy. it's all i can say in the haze while i'm losing my mind. it doesn't fix it.
take it all apart. i want it, miss it, need it, so bad. processing it all, processing me and oh god why am i like this why do i have to ruin everything the minute i think i'm doing alright, doing well. the aftermath of it is now. don't know what's worse, i can't go back. but my nervous system won't relax and i don't understand that yet. don't understand it. don't understand why. all i know is i can't be without you i'd fall in the void. i can't dance around it i've gotta be yours. it's all focused in on that one person. the one lifeline i have so i can breathe through all this self blame and shame and regret that's adding to the pile of everything in my head.
more notes. it's getting ugly, we've used up just about every element of the scale and some notes that aren't even notes but actually out of tune sounds in between the twelve notes on the chromatic scale. (luckily isyb sounds don't actually do this, or we'd hate it). it's torture. of course i'm going to latch onto whatever relief i can find in it. and of course i'm not gonna have the capacity to look very far.
i'm still in orlando or chicago or sydney or wherever really, spread thin and dissociated between memories of places where i've been or my loved one has been, we're blurring together in my brain, spread thin. time is all at once and not at all. can't have tequila without half a gram.
it was alright before i got empty, made a mess of the room in your heart. at least that's what i convince myself. in reality it was messy a lot earlier but i don't realise that i don't go from 0-100 in a moment. i'd been at 99 for so long i just got used to it. but if i wasn't unable to think i'd know. i'd know what i see in the aftermath heavy with guilt. this has happened a thousand times.
i'm still your boy. i remember the good and i want to live in it. do you feel the same way too? don't answer that.
i want it so bad i want it so bad i want it so bad
that's all i know. whether it's addiction to substances or people, a specific person, or maybe it's a good thing, some relief from the noises in my head, this stack of notes or insecurities that never stopped, all i know is it feels right, feels cathartic, the idea of it really, as if this is how it was always meant to be when in fact all i'm asking is for something to bring me back from the very edge of my tolerance down to something that's still very painful but so, so much better because it feels lighter and feels like i can just maybe sustain it. a 95 maybe instead of 99 or 100. a few less sounds, an actual chord with harmonies that aren't fully drowned out. luckily we've got the rest of the album to do this.
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misterewrites · 2 years ago
Text
Year Two and a Halfish (Threads of Fate)
Hi! E here still alive. Been. a while. Sorry if you were expecting updates sooner my laptop was having some serious black screen issues and every attempt at sending it to get repaired is getting stonewalled and honestly it's infuriating and yeah. That happened. Hopefully this time it gets properly fixed and i can go back to writing consistently. I'm just using my mom's laptop to write in the meantime.
So it's super late but Merry Christmas @hains-mae! WOO! this is her gift that she requested at the time (I was pretty surprised when she wanted me to write this story but then i was promptly told she wanted her Solider Poet King for her birthday so that explained everything haha.
I started working on this a few days ago and unfortunately something happened here in America relates in a small part to the story. Honestly maybe I'm overreacting or overthinking it but I also know a lot of people read this story and i rather be overly prepped than accidentally not doing enough
Mae wanted a situation where Jason loses it after you, the reader, is injured. She gave me little requests like Robin's line and has to end in all warm feel goodness (cuz i am not legally allowed to write angst haha) so I have chosen that the reader is shot in the shoulder.
Yeah my little thing makes sense now.
It gets a bit intense, maybe? I can never tell cuz I'm writing it. Like i said I could be overthinking this but heads up. It also does end very sweet and homely and all that goodness so no worries. If you don't feel like reading it I understand.
Stay safe everyone. Lose yourself in a story whether it be mine or someone else's and just relax. breath. It'll be okay. Even if it seems like a lot right now.
So yeah hopefully I'll have my laptop fixed and we're all good but at least for now i have an alternate means of writing! Next is probably Mirror's Edge, Mae's birthday gift, Mirror's edge, another gift i owe but that's a personal one that won't be posted.
Be safe, take care of yourself and your loved ones. Wear masks (i know i know but remember you can pass them on to people with compromised immune systems.) remember to get the vaccine or booster cuz it'll help make it bearable. It's okay to just exist and be and let the world pass you by. One step at a time together. Also vaccine worldwide push for it cuz it's important and frankly whatever you feel is important. The issues that matter to you and remember. It'll be okay.
That's it for me! E is out have a great week and i'll see you really soon!
If you want to read this from the start you can find the whole story on this really awesome site right here! https://archiveofourown.org/works/29955270/chapters/73737858
For the rest of my work that includes some awesome original work (so i am told haha) Arcane Legend of Zelda and Soul Eater you can find that over here https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrE42/pseuds/MrE42
Summary: A few months later, you are trying to get to work when a very unfortune thing happens. For better or worse Red Hood is saving the day.
-----
It’s pretty cold right now. I…I don’t recall ever feeling this cold before.
Wait. That’s not…true. I think. I’m pretty sure I’ve been this cold before.
Have I?
Whenever Mister Freeze has a snow day it gets really cold.
I feel for him, I do but...
God it’s cold. Or is it warm? My head is warm. Hands not so much. Feet freezing too.
Am I cold? I can’t tell. Everything is a lot right now. The floor is damp I know that much. I can see my breath frozen midair for a moment.
Someone is yelling, waving something towards me from overhead but I can’t focus. Everything’s a bit blurry.
Why does my side hurt? Fuck did I pull something again? I really hope not. I have work tomorrow. Eww wet too. Did I spill something?
Wait, no. Today. I have work today. Right now I think. What time is it?
Shit why do I feel weak? Arm’s shaking too. I didn’t forget to eat again did I? Ugh Jason’s going to kill me.
Hee, Jason. He’s soooo handsome. I have no idea why he wants out hang with me though. He is way out of my league. Like he’s fucking Batman’s son! HOW THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO IMPRESS THE ACTUAL SON OF BATMAN!?
Mister Wayne? Bruce? Bruce. No not Bruce. I’ve never met him, I don’t think I can be on a first name basis with freaking Batman if I’ve never met him. Well him him. I’ve been saved by the bats before. Few times actually.
I should really thank him for Jason. He’s just amazing.
Okay so maybe I drank a lot. Why am I thinking of Jason?
Ugh, this asshat is yelling at me still. What the hell does he want? He’s talking to me right? Ugh my head’s pounding, I can’t hear anything.
The guy seems frantic, keeps looking back expecting something but I have no idea what. He just keeps gesturing to his open hand. What the fuck does he…
FUCK! That’s right this asshole shot me!
I wince as the sound turns back on all at once: The angry honking of impatient drivers, the numbing chatter of a thousand people living in a concrete jungle as one. The adrenaline is making my senses so sharp I can hear the dripping water splatting against the cold floor of the alley.
I must’ve gone into shock without realizing it. I mean I was just shot so can you blame me?
My shoulder is burning with a white hot pain I only felt twice in my life: Once when Bane slammed a mailbox into me and when I was 12 and I was really trying to…
You know what? Not important. More pressing matters right now.
I remember now that my flight or fight kicked in: I was late to work and I tried cutting through an alley for a shortcut.
Terrible idea in Gotham I know but this one was brightly lit. I didn’t think anyone was stupid enough to try anything.
So naturally the universe decides to give me the one stupidest person who would try.
He waves his gun at me again (it was a gun. Duh.) but honestly I’m too wired to care. Plus he shot a hole in my favorite jacket! AND IT’S GOT BLOOD RUNNING DOWN IT! DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT IS TO GET BLOOD OUT OF CLOTHING?! Really fucking hard.
Oh. Shit. I’m bleeding out. That’s probably important too.
I try to pick myself off the floor but he takes a step forward, threatening me with the gun again.
“I’ll shoot!” he yells.
Even now, with the last possible moments of my life slipping away, I can’t help but be a smartass.
“You already did you asshat! Shooting me again isn’t gonna make me want to give you my money anymore than the first time!”
Gonna die as I lived: Sassy.
He clicks the hammer on the gun, prepping it to fire again.
I…I feel numb. The adrenaline lessens the pain but it’s still mind dumbing. I just want to scream and fight and yell and go down swinging.
But that’s not who I am. I’m not some superhero or even a regular hero. I’m just a person trying to make my way through this chaotic journey called life. I couldn’t even get up and now because some idiot wants the 10 bucks and a very, very old video rental card to a place that doesn’t exist anymore in my wallet, it was about to end.
I could feel fear bite at my resolve, a dreadful overwhelming sense of finality wash over me. Goosebumps crawled down my skin, the air felt stuffy and too cold all at once as time slowed to a crawl.
I….
I can’t even think.
I’m just scared. I don’t want to go out this way.
I took a deep breath and close my eyes.
I think of my mom, waiting for my phone call later.
I think about Jason Jr, a cat I adopted by accident cuz he had streak of white that was way too familiar. Feed them once and every Jason refuses to leave you.
I do my best to not think of him but Jason Jr leads to Jason the human: His piercing blue eyes that feel like he’s seeing deep into my soul. His messy black hair with that one streak of white that made him so iconic, so distinct from his brothers. The various knicks, tiny bruises, cuts and scars from years being Robin then the Red Hood. Invisible from afar but so, so clear up close.
I can hear his laugh, mostly teasing but with a hint of warmth when I do something dumb. The way shows off his prowess with a knife and how proud he beams when I clap excitedly. Wide smirks when we get into one of our playful chats and jabs. The small smile that graces his lips when he thinks I’m not looking. The quiet thoughtful look when something troubles him. A distance gaze only someone who has experienced for too much has.
I see Jason in my mind but I don’t want that. I want to look him in eye when he tries to be all broody and cool. I want to mess with his hair and tease him about his terrible tastes in books. I want to see him again!
Not like this. No fucking way. I have no idea how I’m going to go but I refuse to let it be like this.
I snap out of my stupor, time seemingly unmoved by whatever deeply reflective crap I just did.
He still has his hand on the gun. I’m still on the floor and this still sucks.
I prep my body, tensing and wincing from my aching shoulder but I try not to be distracted. One shot and whether it works or not, I’m not going to go quietly.
“JUST GIVE ME YOUR MONEY!” the man screams hysterically.
“Fuck you.” I spit out as I’m ready to make my move.
The red string tied around my finger slackens, distracting me at a really bad time but suddenly goes taut like someone is pulling at it.
A thud is all I hear and suddenly the guy is gone. Just vanished into thin air.
I weakly try to stand but my legs turn to jelly and honestly I’m not in fight or flight anymore. I’m in “the floor is nice and solid and I’m just gonna lay here” mode.
So I do just that and fall back on the floor and decide to exist for like the next ten minutes.
I mean I would’ve if something didn’t pick me up.
“Are you okay?” A voice asks, young. Younger than me at least.
“Umm.” I smartly reply.
The young man hums thoughtfully “You’ve been shot.”
“Yeah. That thing.”
“Shock.” He concludes before slipping my good arm over his neck and helps me over to a wall. I take this sec to look and am unsurprised to find Red Robin at my side.
“JA.…” Someone else from above calls out, nearly saying a full name before realizing his mistakes “HOOD!”
Hood? Jason. Jason is the Hood. Jason is here. God I’m tired.
He doesn’t respond if he is here.
A figure elegantly sails through the air, tucking into an impossible swan dive only a skilled master of acrobatics whose trained his entire life could manage so effortlessly.
Plus that’s Nightwing’s ass. It doesn’t matter where you land on orientation, everyone in Gotham and Bludhaven knows that ass.
“HOOD!” Nightwing shouts, less cheery goofyball as per his usual self and more firm. More worried.
Red Robin looks now and his practiced, measured posture drops. He doesn’t even bother to hide his brother’s name.
“Jason. Jason stop! JASON!”
Nightwing has already broken into a full sprint towards where I assume Jason is but Red Robin take a second to make sure I’m comfortable. He places me against the wall and hands me a thick cloth to press over my shoulder. A second later and he’s off. My eyes follow and land on Jason.
Except he’s not Jason right now. He’s Red hood and the difference is….staggering to be honest.
I…forget who he is, the brand of justice he deals out with harsh sentences. Somehow, despite how we first met, I managed to split Jay and Hood into two different entities. Two different people who never happened to be in the same room at the same time.
But now, seeing Jason rain blow and blow upon my attacker, I see it.
Jason favors his right side. He’s amberidext-something but that’s from years of training. He says it feels more natural to him, easier for him to focus on other things.
Red likes using the right too. He’s just a fraction faster using his favored side and it’s clear even with his build that he is quick and there’s power in each punch.
Jason is light on his feet but has a solid stance. He loves to boast how it takes all his siblings to hold back him even if he’s not really trying to break free.
Nightwing can’t stop him neither can Red Robin. They’ve all had the same training from the same teacher but they’re not the same. They all have their strengths: Nightwing was blessed with an inhuman grace (and ass). RR is as smart as Batman and just as capable as a detective.
But Jason? Just a force of nature. Pure muscle and strength only equaled by his mentor and with a will to match.
They could barely slow the battle crazed Hood. It took all they had to pull him back but I could see by the sweat on their brows that it was only a matter of time before he broke free from their grasp. He was like a shark that smelled blood in the water and he wasn’t going to stop until he felt the price of injustice had been paid.
Another figure descended from the roof, smaller in stature and wearing an all too iconic yellow and black outfit: Robin. Well the newest Robin since everyone here minus me was Robin at some point.
You know when you’re drained of adrenaline you get reeeeeeally out of it.
Robin cautiously approached the trashing Red Hood, well aware of how dangerous his brother could be.
“Todd.” Robin spoke firmly “This is wrong. You know this is wrong.”
“Yeah Jay!” Nightwing pitched in quickly “And that’s coming from the kid. Imagine how you’re acting if he’s saying that.”
Robin openly glared “Watch your tongue Grayson.”
“Guys, could we deal with the rampaging Jason before we start snipping at each other?” Red Robin pleaded with immense strain.
Nightwing tightened his grip “Jay please. They’re watching.”
Jason’s shoulders slump as realization dawned on him. I could physically note when the exact moment the fight left him.
And me as I promptly passed out.
-----
I wish I could tell you after such a harrowing ordeal that I reflected with a deep and newly acquired profound understanding of my existence, the importance of living each day to the fullest and my place in the universe for really I am the instrument in which the universe….
Yeah no. I woke up on a cloud and instantly hated existing cuz pain is not fun.
I’m not exaggerating by the way. I found myself on the most comfortable bed I have ever been. It was like it was molded for me, shaping around my body in a way that didn’t aggravate my aches. I mean it didn’t stop them but I’ll take anything I could get.
“I see you are awake.”
I couldn’t even flail so I settled for screaming at the top of my lungs.
The most British older gentleman I have ever seen regarded me with a stony face of indifference though I swore I saw a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.
“I must admit I have never illicit that particular response before.” He said dryly complete with stiff upper lip “But I can see why it is Master Bruce’s favorite.”
I could feel my cheeks burn “Ah yes. Sorry I….sorry. Umm good morning mister…?”
The man gave a bow “Pennyworth. Normally I would ask you to refer to me as such but seeing as young Master Jason has spoken about you at great length and detail it seems only fair we are on a more familiar basis. Alfred is my name.”
I chuckled nervously as realization dawns on me “Yes. Please forgive me…Alfred? Sir? I…Long night.”
“I should say so what with that bullet lodged in your shoulder.”
I could feel my shoulder ache dully at the reminder.
“Ugh I gotta get to a hospital huh? Don’t want to get lead poisoning. Umm Alfred, sir, do you know if Gotham Blue covers gunshot wounds? My brain is still a bit scrambled.” I speak honestly.
Even his laugh is dry “Do not worry. I have taken the liberty of removing the round as you were sleeping. It made the process simpler and more efficient. A refreshing change of pace I will admit. My usual patients like to insist very serious gunshot wounds fall under the category of merely a ‘scratch’.”
I opened my mouth to reply but someone else answered for me “We’re bats Alfred. Comes with the territory that we get shot at.”
Jason sauntered into the room lazily but I knew he’d been worried: His hair was extra messy and matted, his shoulders slumped as his posture hunched over. His hands were stuffed into his pockets, probably fiddling with whatever he had inside. His gaze was intensely focused on Alfred but I could see him struggling not to look at me.
Alfred’s gave a slight smile “Ah yes. Forgive me Master Todd but I do recall there is quite the difference between being shot at and being shot in general. One many of you seem to have difficulty grasping.”
Jason shrugged, unsure what to say.
“Beg your pardon” Alfred turned to me “I must prepare breakfast. I shall be back shortly with some French toast and fresh bandages for your wound.”
With a polite bow Alfred briskly left the room and sent a scurrying of hurried feet racing from the door.
Silence, not awkward but still tense. The lingering sense of shame filled the air.
Jason wouldn’t look at me.
“Your siblings will be back soon.” I nudged him helpfully “If you want a private conversation I’d say we got like 5 minutes.”
“Twenty.” Jason mumbled uneasily “They really like to scatter to make sure no one is suspicious but Alfred and Bruce know us too well to fall for it. Alfred will suddenly find tiny and convenient issues around the house to prevent them from circling back and Bruce will track one or two down to have a quick chat.”
“Neat.” I said honestly.
Silence fell over us again but I knew it was because Jason was gathering his thoughts into words. When things really mattered he always took his time.
“I’m sorry.” He said, still refusing to meet my gaze.
I scoffed loudly “I wasn’t aware you shot me.”
“This isn’t the time for being a smartass!”
“It isn’t the time for being a dumbass either but here you are.”
“I know you saw me.”
I sighed deeply “Of course I saw you. What, do you think I never wanna see you again?”
Jason remained quiet.
“Look.” I tried to sit up “I’m not gonna pretend like I know what your life’s been like and what you did last night was…a lot.”
“Don’t move, you’ll make it worse.” He said but I ignored him.
“Make me Jay.”
Jason whirled around so quick I nearly didn’t see him gently push me onto back.
“Oww.” I wheezed but Jason held a firm yet careful hold on me “Cheater.”
“How? How did I cheat?” Jason gave a cutely offended look.
I snort “Alphabetically or chronologically?”
Jason glared “If you say Batman trained me one more time…”
“Am I lying?” I smirked “The most training I got was little league and I sucked at it.”
“You hit a homerun once” He offered helpfully.
I rolled my eyes playfully “I hit home, not a homerun. Big diff Jay.”
“True. Only you could hit the homebase and send it flying 5 feet.”
“Hey! It was 20 feet. Minimum.”
“Mhm sure. My bad.” Jason finally grinned “I suppose you also managed to get 5 points for doing that too.”
“Don’t forget the scholarship too! You always forget the scholarship.”
“Do not!”
“Do too!”
“No!”
“Duh!”
We stared at each other deeply for a moment before breaking out into laughter.
Well Jason did. I took one breath and suddenly I was violently coughing.
“Oww oww oww.”
“Idiot.” He mumbled as he tucked me into the sheets.
I gave a cheesy grin “Worth it.”
Jason raised a quizzical eyebrow.
“Okay no, not really” I admitted “That hurt way more than I was expecting.”
“Rest.” Jason threatened me with arms crossed.
I was too tired to care the words “Only if you’re here to keep an eye on me.” Tumbled out of my mouth before I thought better.
Jason shifted guiltily “Look I…”
In for a pound. I gently placed on my hand over his “We’ll talk about it later. For now it’s over and honestly I really don’t wanna think about it this second. I am just….really happy to see you Jay.”
He took my hand in his.
“You really need to stop taking shortcuts.” He scolded lightly.
“Hey!” I raised my free hand defensively “There were lights! What kind of idiot tries to rob someone in a well lit alley?!”
“The one that shot you yesterday.”
“No shit Jay.” I glared openly at him but all he did was smirk in response.
As beautiful as this moment was, I had to ruin it. A thought began to bother me and Jason noticed.
Jason motioned with his head “Don’t think too hard. Your body can’t handle the strain right now.”
“Oh shut it. You said Bruce was gonna intercept your siblings, right?”
“Umm yeah.” Jason was unsure where I was going with this “He pretends to be emotionally constipated but he’s very good at bed side manner and respectful with privacy.”
I nodded in agreement “Have you ever brought anyone to here?”
Jason’s face fell “Oh no.”
“Emotionally constipated? You’re being unusually kind today Jason.”
The doors flung open and in strode the one, the only, the myth, the legend and Jay’s father: Bruceman.
Shit I mean Batwayne. Brucebat.
Bruce motherfreaking Wayne gave me a million dollar smile “Hello I’m Bruce Wayne. It is so nice to meet you. Jason never brings any of his friends over.”
I could feel myself pale as I stared dumbfounded at his outstretched hand.
Then I promptly passed out.
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eccentricmya · 9 months ago
Note
how are you so Normal about silm. Literally I am sitting here, so depressed I can’t eat, drawing Them again and again and you’re just like. Oh here I’ll vilify Maedhros. Now I’ll paint him in a nice light. Why don’t we discuss it over coffee. Like Maedhros isn’t some figure who’s emotionally and psychologically a part of your personal identity I don’t get it. How are you so cool about all this. The world is falling apart
(oh by the way I think your blog is great).
Oh thank you! 😊
You pose a great question. I was thinking just yesterday if I'm not passionate enough for the fandom lol. The answer is maybe that I've mellowed out over the years. Though I still get obsessed with new things from time to time and want to read and see everything related at once! Much like you are now, I suppose.
But why are you depressed? Because of how Silm is or is it related to your artistry? For both I would say, enjoy the process! I know it's easier to say, but truly, the best part of fandom and creation is the fun you have here away from real life. If you make yourself stressed because of it, then it stops being a comfort and becomes a burden instead- at which point, I find myself turning away from that fandom or abandoning the fic idea.
Tolkien though, is like home to me. It's nothing new or exciting like some attraction at a fair; it's the same characters, the same story, but it feels relaxing rather than boring because of the familiarity. And when you're relaxed, it is very much like sipping coffee!
Let me give you an example... in Uni, I used to chug my coffee so that I could have more of it. If I finish one cup, then I can have 3 more! And the amount of time I got to experience the taste of coffee back then was around half an hour. Nowadays, I drink just one cup, which I savour for half an hour. I'm still spending the same time on my coffee experience, but now it is in a much more healthier manner.
Fandom is like that. The characters and story we love is not going anywhere. You are not going anywhere. So take your time. Take a walk with your favourite characters, instead of running after them. Let your heart decide the path you walk, instead of sticking to the already paved road. I swear you'll enjoy the journey far more this way!
As for having a crisis over our favourite blorbos? I cried buckets when Thorin and Fili and Kili died. I was so distraught that I had to wait in the parking lot of the theatre before I could ride back. It is normal to have attachment with characters, no matter how fictional they may be. But I do not think a single character can define your personality. Rather, it is your personality that gives meaning to a character you love. We're too multifaceted for it to be otherwise.
The same goes for characters. They're complex too and can have a multitude of traits that we may or may not vibe with. This is why we can have vastly different views or headcanons about them. Fiction is the realm of possibilities, we should embrace them all! And if someone else's take conflicts with mine, I can just go "oh, they're in a different universe of the multiverse; we can co-exist."
Sorry it got so long, I may have rambled off-point... your ask made me contemplative hehe. Thank you once again! Have a nice day! And remember to eat please!
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forbiddenfiremain · 2 years ago
Text
The club was relatively empty for this hour. The group had finished their celebrating over the last successful job. So they were relaxing in a U-shaped booth, waiting for the energy to go home.
A bunch of fuckin gonks if I saw ever one. If it was the old me I would have zeroed every single one of you. Wouldn't think twice about it. Especially you choom, the newcomer motioned towards David.
The crew turned to look at the rude interloper, a young woman dressed in typical cyberpunk attire.
You want to a fuckin bullet in the brain? David growled, stiffening in his seat.
Hey you piece of shit. You can't talk to us that way! Rebecca screamed.
Relax, the woman waved her hand. I say it for your benefit. But I didn't come here to give you the third degree.
What are you here for then choom? David replied a hint of warning in his voice. He didn't recognize the person in front of him. To act so familiarly was usually a bad sign.
Name's V. But I wouldn't spread that around if I were you. Once again for your own benefit.
David chuckled. Every edgreunner knew the name V. Just like they knew Adam Smasher and Johnny Silverhand.
The solo who went on a two month rampage through Night City and then disappeared off the map. Wiped the Voodoo Boys from existence. The Tyger Claws and the Animals were a shell of what they once were.
Before the cover-up, the NCPD attributed over 2000 deaths to her. Unholy numbers even for Night City.
Get out of here, David scoffed. You don't looked chromed so you're just regular crazy?
Nope. Well, probably. I still got an addiction. Even a new body couldn't fix that.
Yeah, you're crazy, Rebecca sighed, kicking back once again in the bench.
Alright, you had your fun, David agreed. Now move on before we flatline you.
She smirked, a hand on her hip. Yep, I got my hands full with you four. Truth is, I heard some gossip that you were tangling with Arasaka. Not smart.
We can handle ourselves, David scoffed again. Why don't you manage your own business.
Good grief, you are stubborn. You won't accept a helping hand even when it's offered so freely?
Nothing's free, Rebecca shouted at her. You think we're a bunch of newbies?
The woman rolled her eyes. Alright what will it take to convince you?
David took a moment to think. If you really are V, then you have to get us a seat at the table with Rogue the fixer.
She frowned. Then her frown turned into a laugh. You think you are worth Rogue's time? That's hilarious.
Hey, David shrugged. Doesn't matter what I think. But the real V could pull it. So, are you the real deal?
That's my line, kid. But I'll play your little game. It ought to be fun seeing Rogue's face. I got to think of something really rich to tell her. Just remember you owe me after all this.
Then she turned to leave and the crew stared at the nodachi strapped to her back.
What the hell was that about it? Rebecca muttered, swirling her glass.
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masongrizchel · 5 months ago
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Why We Matter, Statistically? 🌟
KEY POINTS:
The odds of our existence are incredibly slim, making each of us statistically significant.
Our unique experiences and skills contribute to the world in meaningful ways.
Life's challenges are essential for growth and add excitement to our journey.
Balancing various aspects of life can be overwhelming but builds character.
Everyone is figuring out life as they go along, so it's okay to make mistakes.
Relationships and connections give our lives meaning and remind us we're not alone.
Life is a fascinating statistical anomaly. Think about it: out of the trillions of potential genetic combinations, here you are, reading this blog post. The odds of you existing are incredibly slim, yet you do. That's pretty special. 🌟
Our significance in life isn't just about being a random blip in the universe. It's about our impact on others and the world around us. Each of us has unique experiences, skills, and quirks that contribute to the rich tapestry of human existence. Even if your biggest achievement today was getting out of bed, give yourself some credit—sometimes that's a monumental feat! 🌞
Life's challenges are the spices that add flavor to our journey. Without them, things would be bland. Imagine a life where everything went smoothly—boring, right? Challenges push us to grow, adapt, and become better versions of ourselves. Plus, they give us great stories to tell at parties. Who doesn't love a good "I overcame this crazy obstacle" story? 💪
Speaking of obstacles, let's remember the daily grind. Balancing work, personal life, and even a hobby can feel like juggling flaming swords while riding a unicycle. But hey, if life were easy, we wouldn't appreciate the sweet moments of success and relaxation. So, the next time you're overwhelmed, remember you're building character (and maybe your future memoir). 🔥
One of the funniest things about life is that no one knows what they're doing. We're all just figuring it out as we go along. It's like we're all in this giant improv show, making up our lines and hoping the audience (life) doesn't boo us off the stage. So, give yourself some grace and remember that messing up is okay. Everyone else is too busy worrying about their lines to judge yours. 🎭
Lastly, let's talk about connections. We're statistically significant because of the relationships we form. Whether it's family, friends, or that barista who always gets your coffee order just right, these connections give our lives meaning. They remind us that we're not alone in this wild world. So, hug someone today (with their permission, of course). 🤗
Life is a blend of randomness, challenges, and connections. Each of these elements contributes to our significance. Embrace the chaos, laugh at the absurdity, and cherish the moments that make it all worthwhile. And remember, you're statistically significant just by being you. 📊✨
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listiyofamilydental · 1 year ago
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What Happens To The Stitches After Wisdom Tooth Extraction?
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So, you've just had your wisdom teeth extracted. Ouch! While the procedure itself may not have been a walk in the park, it's important to understand what happens next for proper healing and recovery. One key element of this process is the use of stitches. Don't worry; we're here to unravel all the mysteries surrounding these tiny threads and explain their role in your post-extraction journey. So sit back, relax (if you can), and let's dive into the world of stitches after wisdom tooth extraction!
The purpose of stitches in the healing process
After a wisdom tooth extraction, stitches play a crucial role in the healing process. These tiny threads help to close up the wound and promote proper healing. But what exactly is their purpose?
First and foremost, stitches are used to hold the edges of the gum tissue together. This prevents any gaps or spaces from forming where bacteria could enter and cause infection. By creating a barrier between your mouth and the surgical site, stitches reduce the risk of complications.
Furthermore, stitches provide support for the surrounding tissues as they heal. They help to keep everything in place while new blood vessels form and connect with existing ones. This promotes efficient circulation, which is vital for delivering oxygen and nutrients to aid in healing.
Additionally, stitches can also serve as a guide during tissue regeneration. As your body repairs itself, these sutures act as markers for cell growth and alignment. They ensure that new tissue forms correctly and minimize any potential scarring.
By closing off the surgical site with stitches, discomfort is reduced significantly post-surgery. The tightly secured wound allows you to chew food more comfortably without worrying about debris getting trapped inside.
Types of stitches used after wisdom tooth extraction
After a wisdom tooth extraction, stitches are often used to help facilitate the healing process. There are several types of stitches that may be used depending on the complexity of the procedure and the surgeon's preference.
One common type of stitch is known as dissolvable or absorbable sutures. These stitches are made from materials that break down naturally over time, such as gut or synthetic polymers. The advantage of these stitches is that they do not need to be removed since they dissolve on their own.
Another type of suture commonly used after wisdom tooth extraction is a non-absorbable suture. These stitches are typically made from silk, nylon, or other similar materials and need to be manually removed by your dentist or oral surgeon after a certain period of time.
In some cases, a combination of both dissolvable and non-absorbable sutures may be used depending on the specific needs of each patient's surgical site.
The choice of suture material depends on various factors like location in the mouth, size and depth of wound closure required etc.
Remember I'm an AI language model trained to assist with writing tasks but I don't have real-time information about medical practices nor am I able to provide professional advice. It's always best to consult with your healthcare provider for accurate and personalized information regarding post-operative care after wisdom tooth extraction
How long do stitches last?
How long do stitches last after wisdom tooth extraction? It's a common question that many people have, and the answer can vary depending on several factors.
It's important to note that there are different types of stitches used in dental procedures. Some are dissolvable, meaning they will break down and be absorbed by the body over time. These typically last anywhere from one to two weeks before they dissolve completely.
Other types of stitches may need to be removed manually by your dentist or oral surgeon. These non-dissolvable stitches usually stay in place for about one week before they are taken out.
The length of time that stitches last also depends on how well you take care of them during the healing process. Following proper post-operative instructions, such as avoiding certain foods and maintaining good oral hygiene, can help ensure that your stitches stay intact for as long as necessary.
It's worth noting that everyone heals at their own pace, so some individuals may experience faster or slower stitch absorption than others. If you have any concerns about your stitches or if they haven't dissolved or been removed within the expected timeframe, don't hesitate to contact your dental professional for guidance.
What happens to the stitches as the wound heals?
After a wisdom tooth extraction, stitches are often used to help promote healing and reduce the risk of infection. But have you ever wondered what happens to these stitches as the wound begins to heal? Let's take a closer look.
As the days go by, your body starts its natural healing process. During this time, the stitches serve an essential role in holding the tissues together and promoting proper alignment for efficient healing. They act as little anchors, ensuring that everything stays in place while new tissue forms.
While every person's healing process is unique, it is typical for dissolvable stitches to be used after wisdom tooth extraction. These types of stitches gradually dissolve on their own over time without needing removal by a dentist or oral surgeon.
Once dissolved, the remnants of the stitch material are absorbed into your body and eventually eliminated through natural bodily processes. This eliminates any need for further intervention or follow-up appointments solely related to stitch removal.
It is important to note that not all wounds will require sutures or stitches after wisdom tooth extraction. In some cases, adhesive strips may be used instead of traditional stitching methods. These strips tend to fall off on their own as healing progresses and do not require any special care or attention.
To ensure optimal healing during this stage, it is crucial to practice good oral hygiene habits recommended by your dentist or oral surgeon post-surgery. This includes gently brushing your teeth with a soft-bristled brush around the surgical area and rinsing with saltwater solution provided by your dental professional.
Although it can be tempting, avoid touching or playing with the stitched area as this can disrupt proper wound closure and increase the risk of complications such as infection or delayed healing.
If one or more stitches happen to fall out early before they naturally dissolve on their own accord – don't panic! It's relatively common for this occurrence during normal healing stages. However, it is still wise to reach out to your dental professional if you have concerns or experience any unusual symptoms.
Proper care for stitches after surgery
Proper care for stitches after wisdom tooth surgery is crucial to ensure a smooth and speedy recovery. Following these simple guidelines can help promote healing and prevent complications.
It's important to keep the area clean. Gently rinse your mouth with warm saltwater several times a day, starting 24 hours after the surgery. This helps remove debris and reduce the risk of infection.
Avoid touching or playing with the stitches to prevent them from coming loose or getting infected. Be cautious when eating, as hard foods or crunchy snacks can accidentally dislodge the stitches.
To minimize swelling and discomfort, apply an ice pack to your cheeks for 15 minutes at a time during the first 24 hours after surgery. After that, switch to warm compresses.
It's essential to follow any prescribed medication regimen provided by your dentist or oral surgeon. Take all medications as directed, including antibiotics if prescribed, to prevent infection and manage pain effectively.
Maintain good oral hygiene by brushing gently around the surgical site but avoiding direct contact with sutures until they dissolve or are removed by your dentist.
Remember that every person heals differently; therefore, it's always best to consult with your dental professional about specific care instructions tailored to your situation. By following these tips diligently, you'll give yourself the best chance of a successful recovery!
When to have the stitches removed
When to have the stitches removed after wisdom tooth extraction is an important consideration in the healing process. The timing of stitch removal will depend on various factors, including the type of stitches used and how well the wound is healing.
Typically, dissolvable stitches are used after wisdom tooth extraction. These stitches are designed to break down and be absorbed by the body over time, so they do not need to be manually removed. This means that you won't have to make a separate appointment specifically for stitch removal.
However, if non-dissolvable stitches were used, your dentist or oral surgeon will typically schedule a follow-up appointment for their removal. This usually occurs within 7-10 days after surgery when sufficient healing has taken place.
It's important not to remove any stitches yourself without consulting your dental professional first. Prematurely removing sutures can disrupt the healing process and lead to complications such as infection or delayed wound closure.
If you notice any signs of infection, excessive bleeding, or worsening pain around the stitched area before your scheduled follow-up appointment, it's crucial to contact your dentist immediately for further guidance.
Remember that every individual's healing timeline may vary slightly based on their overall health and adherence to post-operative instructions. Following proper care guidelines and attending all necessary appointments will help ensure successful recovery from wisdom tooth extraction.
What to do if a stitch falls out early
One common concern after wisdom tooth extraction is what to do if a stitch falls out early. While it may be alarming, there's no need to panic. In some cases, stitches may dissolve or fall out before the recommended healing time.
If you notice that a stitch has come loose or fallen out prematurely, the first step is to gently rinse your mouth with warm saltwater. This will help keep the area clean and prevent infection. It's important not to disturb the surrounding tissue by poking at or pulling on any remaining stitches.
Next, contact your oral surgeon or dentist for further guidance. They will evaluate the situation and determine if any additional steps need to be taken. Depending on how far along in the healing process you are, they may decide that no further intervention is necessary.
Remember, everyone heals at their own pace and occasional complications can occur during recovery from wisdom tooth extraction. The most important thing is to stay calm and follow your healthcare provider's instructions closely for optimal healing.
By taking proper care of your stitches and promptly addressing any concerns with your dental professional, you can ensure a smoother recovery process after wisdom tooth extraction
Potential complications with stitches after wisdom tooth extraction
While stitches are meant to aid in the healing process after wisdom tooth extraction, there can be potential complications that arise. It is important to be aware of these risks and take proper care to minimize them.
One possible complication is infection at the site of the stitches. This can occur if bacteria enter the wound or if proper oral hygiene practices are not followed. Symptoms may include increased pain, swelling, redness, or discharge. If you suspect an infection, it is crucial to contact your dentist immediately for further evaluation and treatment.
Another complication that can arise is stitch breakage or premature removal. This can happen if excessive force is applied to the area before it has fully healed. It's essential to follow post-operative instructions carefully and avoid activities such as chewing hard foods or using straws that could put pressure on the stitches.
In some cases, allergic reactions to sutures may occur. Signs of an allergic reaction may include itching, rash, or difficulty breathing. If you experience any of these symptoms after surgery, inform your dentist promptly so they can determine if a different type of suture material should have been used.
Furthermore, some individuals may develop keloids or hypertrophic scars around the surgical site due to their genetic predisposition. These raised and thickened scars can sometimes be uncomfortable and require further treatment options such as scar revision surgery.
It's worth noting that while complications with stitches after wisdom tooth extraction are rare, they do exist. By closely following post-operative instructions provided by your dentist and promptly seeking professional help in case of any concerns or issues arising from your stitches will ensure a smooth recovery process.
Wisdom tooth extraction is a common dental procedure that often requires stitches to aid in the healing process. These stitches play a crucial role in promoting proper wound closure and reducing the risk of infection.
While most individuals experience a smooth healing process with no complications related to their stitches, it's important to be aware of potential issues such as stitch loosening or early falling out. If this occurs, contact your dentist promptly for guidance on next steps.
Finding the best dentist Long Beach is crucial for maintaining your oral health and ensuring a positive dental experience. By following these tips, you can streamline your search process and find a dentist who meets your needs.
Remember to prioritize factors like experience, qualifications, and reputation when selecting a dentist. Consider seeking recommendations from friends or family members, reading online reviews, and researching different dentists' websites.
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Was wondering if you’d be able to write an Eddie Munson one shot/imagine with Hoppers (Gn) kid. :)
A/N - Yes. Definitely. Absolutely. (I am currently binge watching Gravity Falls.)
“Hey, officer! We need to report a crime!” Jason, and two of his friends ran up to you. You knew they were some of the kids from the basketball team, considering when you tried to have a conversation with Lucas, it’s all he would talk about.
“Yeah? What is it?” You didn’t like him, he seemed like a popular douchebag.
“It’s Eddie! He’s dating someone thats as hot as you!” He was grinning, his two friends behind him laughing.
“Haha, you’re so fucking funny. Get out of here before I punch your fucking teeth out.”
“Officer! Relax, we’re just having fun. Did you forget what that is?” He still didn’t know how to fuck off, did he?
“I have more fun writing papers then your girlfriend could ever have riding your dick, cunt. Now screw off.” You walked away, leaving the stunned possum there to be mocked by his friends.
“What they want?” Dustin came up to you, and now walked alongside you.
“What do you think? They almost always mess with me. It started right after-“
“You arrested Jason cause you caught him underage drinking, I know. By the way, Eddie is looking for you, he wants to show you something.” Dusting grabbed you by the forearm and walked you somewhere.
“I’m guessing you know but you’re not going to tell me cause he told you keep it secret?”
“Yep.”
“Wonderful. How’s your mom doin’?”
“She’s fine, she’s nearly always fine unless she can’t find me.”
“Hey! Remember, I have to keep a close eye on everyone and their cats. Especially considering my dad was chief of police. I have a major role to step up too, and it’s not easy when everyone considers you a joke cause you’re barely out of high school.”
“I see where you’re coming from, but I feel like I may be the wrong person to complain to. Nancy would understand better than anyone.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m just frustrated is all. How’s hellfire doin’?”
“It’s going great. Mine and Mike’s costume shirts are almost done. Thanks for telling us about the club, we might’ve found out too late otherwise.”
“Nah, Eddie would’ve let you join, he likes you both. That and I would have convinced him to if he had told you no.”
“Yeah, cause we’re your favourite teenagers and you love us.”
“Keep telling yourself that, Henderson.” You watched in amusement as he turned to you, mouth agape and brows furrowed, looking insulted.
You chuckled, it was easy to annoy the kid. He was loveable, but slightly gullible.
"Well, are you at least telling me where we're going? You've dragged me nearly across the school."
"Parking lot."
"How many bullies you got so far?"
"I don't know, at least 12 though."
"R.I.P."
"Whatever, we're here. Eddie!" Dustin stopped you at Eddies old van. The side door opened and Eddie stepped out.
"Hello Love." He pulled your hand up, and kissed your knuckles. "I hope my friend treated with respect."
"I've known him way longer then you have Munson. Second, he treats me with respect cause he knows ill beat his ass."
"They'vedone it before."
"I hit you once."
"I still threw up."
"Hey, treat my guy/gal with respect!!"
"Sorry."
"Yeah, anyway, look here." Eddie pulled you towards the van, the door he existed still open.
When you peered inside, it was a mini cuddle space. Blankets, pillows, and two containers with music and candy. Fairy lights were hung around the posters that were on the vans walls.
"Holy shit! This is epic! Did you do this today?"
“Yeah, I skipped my last two periods to work on it beanie.”
“What have I said about skipping school? You can get in trouble for that shit. And don’t act like you don’t fucking know.”
"I'm sorry, Y/N, but I really wanted it to be special for you." He cupped your face with both his hands, smiling down at you softly.
"It is, but don't skip class for me, Dork. I thought 86' was your year?"
"It is baby, I promise. Just thought I should surprise you is all, you deserve to be spoiled.”
“That sounds sweet and cheesy. Let’s go!”
You climbed into the back of his van and sat down on the blankets. Eddie grinned and closed the door, walking around and jumping into the drivers seat.
“Where are we off to?”
“A cliff of sorts, I wanna stare gaze and snuggle up with you in the blankets.”
He chuckled. “Can do babe, but it won’t be dark for a few more hours. Wanna do anything in between then?”
“Ice cream?”
<3.
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doverstar · 2 years ago
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Hello again! I was the one who sent the question about Chrissy/Jason and I just read your answer.Once again I agree with everything you said, youre so realistic and that's what makes me love your fic so much. What you said about the scene in the woods is so real, something I hate about hellcheer fics is just that, Eddie and Chrissy connecting almost instantly. Eddie caring about her like he's known her his whole life haha. Anyway, can't wait for the next chapter. :)
Hello! Yes, thank you! :D I'm gonna give you some thoughts on that now if that's okay. I totally agree. I've skimmed fics and they are all somewhat approaching it the same way. I'm always eventually like "good writing, sweet idea, but my brain cannot believe that's canon Eddie and Chrissy, it's just not realistic to me" so whatever I'm skimming falls flat. And that's the story of how Doverstar stopped trying to skim any hellcheer fics- Eddie and Chrissy had some natural chemistry in the woods, after they both relaxed, but they didn't become instant buddies or fall madly in love. Realistically, Eddie was being really charming in that scene and Chrissy probably thought he was cute (she's a teenager and human) and she was being vulnerable and sweet and he was definitely being flirty-esque (he's a teenager and human). But if the Upside Down didn't exist and Chrissy was buying drugs to deal with something other than Vecna visions, that one interaction at the picnic table would, realistically, probably lead to very little at first without a catalyst to move their relationship along. Like. They'd probably say hi in the halls after that? Maybe? Each think about the other with the usual hormone-induced flutter that night, maybe, and then forget about it in a week or two. Or they do actually gradually become acquaintances now that they're more aware of the other person/aware the other person is friend material. But it's not a deep friendship or a "he/she is not like other boys/girls and is everything I want all of a sudden" type of thing. And NO, Eddie should NOT care about her like he's known her his whole life! If we're gonna assume the boy had a baby crush on her, a baby crush, since middle school, the most realistic conclusion I can think of is that it became a back-burner crush. It's in the very back of his mind. A little tiny flicker of attraction toward that one cheerleader he remembers from middle school, a tiny sliver of attention spared for her, but Eddie has a life outside of a longstanding crush. He has a band, more than one time-consuming hobby, the man can't graduate high school, he has friends, he has his sheep, he has his uncle, he has drugs to sell. He may have known Chrissy from afar (very afar, socially and relationally) since at least middle school, but that doesn't mean he's madly in love and would die for her here and now. My take is that if Eddie ever had a much-younger crush on Chrissy, it's been on the back-burner of his mind for years, and almost faded out of memory until real, actual interactions with her bring it back up to the forefront. He's literally not done growing as a physical human being yet. He's young, he's busy; she's young, she's busy. One picnic table meetup does not The Notebook make. I don't think it even came close to him quietly pining, somehow noticing who she "really" is from very far away with minimal interaction over the years "when no one else does". No way. Good, real relationships don't work that way. It is cute if he has a crush on her he's nursed for years. A back-burner crush. One he's not slobbering over since he was 12/13. One he almost forgot about but remembers when they interact and it lights up his hormones. A realistic one. But if they're gonna get together, something has to nudge them toward real friends territory, and then to lovers territory. Realistically. Like maybe a whirlwind adventure fighting demons and saving Hawkins. Or something.
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mauesartetc · 3 years ago
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I need some advice on a character design I've been working on. It's a Jester one but he just keeps looking like any other Jester char you tend to see: Face looks like a mask, Bright and colorful outfits w/ little to nothing on them that tells ya what their personality is . I want him to look unique & not fall into the generic jester design club. I want to show his personality added onto him so he doesn't look like generic. Are there any different ways to make jester characters look different and not look the same? (Esp with the mask as a face)
Well it's great you've already pinpointed the issues to avoid. When everyone else "zigs", that's when you "zag". Every other jester has a bright outfit? Maybe go more subtle with neutrals or earth tones and only use bright colors as accents. It might even match his sense of humor: While other jesters are zany and bombastic, maybe this guy's more low-key, sarcastic and deadpan. I've also noticed several jester designs with the same scrawny body type, so what if this one had some muscle tone or was a bit chubbier than most (depending on the type of athleticism required in his act)? Or what if this jester had lost a hand and still found creative, entertaining ways to juggle and play instruments? I'd watch the hell outta that guy.
There'll be some Google-fu involved here as well. Sometimes when we image search outfit ideas for characters from (or inspired by) certain time periods, we get lots of generic, cheap-looking Halloween costumes in the results. And cherry-picking from other people's designs won't help much either, as they're simply distilled versions of the real deal.
If you want to inspire a truly unique interpretation of a well-worn trope, you need to go to the source. And I mean the source.
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When I searched "medieval art jester", these images were among the results. If no photos of the time period exist, ya get the next best thing. I'm sure some art historian in the comments will graciously point out any authenticity hiccups, but we're going for inspiration rather than pitch-perfect historical accuracy. I presume this isn't a live-action period drama we're talking about here.
It's interesting how all these fools' caps have ears on them, rather than the popular palm tree-esque jingle bell representation we're all used to seeing. The caps also culminate in single spires at the top, which is pretty different from your average, run-of-the-mill jester design.
And while we mainly observe characters' personalities through their poses and expressions, clothing choice is also a big piece of the puzzle. Since a jester's garb serves as a sort of uniform for his job, it must allow him to do it to the best of his abilities. For example, has he included a special feat in his act that requires unique accoutrements for his outfit?
As for conveying character traits, this is where symbols come into play. Let's say honesty is one of his main virtues. When you hear the word "honesty", what sorts of images come to mind?
Personally I remember that story about young George Washington confessing to chopping down his dad's cherry tree, saying "I cannot tell a lie". That reminds me of the physiological signs someone might be lying, such as a racing heart, flop sweat, and fidgety hands. The stress of being found out produces these effects, but if a person hardly ever lies, they don't have to deal with this kind of stress. That makes me think of the opposite of stress: Relaxation. And the image I picture when I think of relaxation is a sunny beach with soothing waves, the perfect vacation getaway.
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(Photo by jcob nasyr on Unsplash)
I'd then incorporate the shapes and colors of the beach into the design. Just one example of how the logic often flows to unexpected places.
That's how I'd go about it. Hope that all makes sense. Good luck with your jester dude!
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lovelywingsart · 2 years ago
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//AU// Unintentional
-- Karl Heisenberg X OC (AFAB, She/They) --
By popular demand and choice of my lovely Cogs, I bring you...
The Survival AU. <3
Yup, we're here!!! We're starting this!!! Meaning I'll work more with it in art!!!
I REALLY hope you all enjoy this beginning story, I'm SO excited to finally post the stories and work more with them!!! QuQ (Also, please enjoy the little cover for this AU series, made from *slightly* repurposing my Book of Shadows piece I did uwu)
**Remember, check out the Masterlist for more! <3**
-----
*Warnings?: BIG news, shock and denial, TIIIIINY little threats for a good cause??
Summary: Some issues arise with Emelia on a physical level. Some concern leads her to visit Moreau despite Karls arguments, and she walks away with a much bigger issue than ever previously thought.
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Emelia sat on the small bench in front of the old TV, her eye wandering. She currently rested beneath the old mill with the Fish Lord, who currently scampered around with miscellaneous papers and notes. While his appearance and speech didn't quite resemble that of well education, Moreau was almost as much of a scientific genius as Heisenberg was an engineering one, and Emelia knew it. She had come to know the man well in past years, and he was the only one she would trust to come to with her current situation. She had trusted him with more serious matters, and he was the only one she could have gone to for this.
Sickness and exhaustion plagued her in passing days, making her physically weaker and affecting her work, and causing an uncomfortable feeling with her Cadou. If anything, she knew it had to be almost a month since it started, if that... Not to mention her emotions... Part of being here was to prevent from snapping at the metal man for no reason, something she had apologized for multiple times at this point. But it was primarily the weak sickness that concerned the both of them, thinking the worst of her Cadou existence. The last thing she wanted was a Cadou mishap... Too many things could go very, very wrong.
It had taken a few days to convince him to allow her to come here, but she had eventually gotten her way. And so here she was, watching the Lord murmur to himself, having been poked and prodded and asked many... MANY questions. Surprisingly odd questions coming from him, but she was quickly assured it was nothing too incredibly 'personal'. She wasn't exactly irritated with him, but she had sworn the next time he poked at her that she'd tear off a limb after nearly getting sick for what felt like the millionth time.
"Anything yet...?" She asked cautiously, watching him fumble with and look over a few papers on the small side table he had.
He was silent for a moment despite low grumbling, tapping along the crumpled papers. The silence remained as he seemed to piece together what he was seeing, hopping just slightly with excitement before he suddenly turned to her with a lopsided smile.
"Oh, yes, very much, yes!!" He spoke enthusiastically, scurrying over to her quickly. "A good thing!"
She couldn't help but feel the tiniest amount of relief at his reaction and words, relaxing her shoulders and letting out a breath she didn't now she was holding. Good, it wasn't life-threatening...
"Nothing with my Cadou...?" She asked, feeling herself calm slowly as he shook his head.
"No, no! Cadou is fine! It's even better!" He said, quickly running to the papers once more before returning with one.
Her face was suddenly that of confusion, her nose scrunching as she tried to make sense of his excitement. 'Even better'...? How could getting sick be 'even better'...? Was it an evolution of the Cadou making her sick?? Was it changing her more? Getting stronger? Spreading along her body as Heisenbergs did? 
It was as if he recognized the emotion, reaching over to pat her hand with glee while waving the paper for her to look at. She had barely attempted to read it before be spoke again.
"You're gonna have a baby!!"
Time seemed to freeze for a split moment as the single word drove itself into her brain immediately.
'Baby'... 'Baby'...?? Wait, did he mean-
"I..." she started, the calm feeling disappearing even quicker than it had settled, now replaced with a new type of nausea. "Wh-... Salvatore..." she started slowly, "What do you mean 'baby'..."
He suddenly reached over to pat her stomach, making her jump and lift her arms as if not to swing.
"A new life! A little you!"
She stared at the fish man, her eye wide and her jaw open in disbelief. Her arms lowered as he hopped back, nearly swaying from side to side with a child-like grin.
He... He couldn't be serious... But that wasn't possible, it-
"... What...?" She said, her voice that of a nervous squeak. Moreau now nearly hopped with excitement, tapping his fingers together in small claps as her gaze fell to the floor in shock.
"Yes, yes!" He spoke, suddenly making his way to a barnacle-encrusted phone. He reached for it with an excited giggle. "Oh, this is wonderful! This is special! So special! I can't wait to tell Mother Miranda-"
NO-
"If you even think about telling her I'll gut you alive and feed you to the bloody Varcolacs." Emelia snarled suddenly, her body beginning to shake. Moreau froze at the tone of her voice, rather startled that she had even threatened him. He pulled back his hand slightly as he watched her slump over, her shoulders trembling. He was quiet until he stepped away from the phone fully.
"... Are you not happy? Should I take it out for you?" He offered carefully, a genuine concern in his voice while shuffling over to her side as she took a shakey breath. She simply shook her head before suddenly standing from the bench.
"I... I'll visit again soon." She managed, patting the mans arm. "I'll let you know, just... Promise me you won't tell her."
"Emmy.-"
"Promise me, Salvatore." She said sternly. He stared at her before nodding awkwardly and backing away.
"She won't get mad at me if I won't tell her, will she...?" He asked. Emelia shook her head.
"She won't. I'll make sure of it... Just..." she trailed off, unable to collect her thoughts. "... I need time..."
An odd smile appeared on his face once more.
"Of course Emmy...! Please visit again soon...! W-We can watch your movie!" The man regained a cheerful tone as she walked away with a brief wave.
She made her way through the underground mines of the watermill, only stopping once she reached the top of the steps. She stared at the floor.
No... No, that wasn't possible... She couldn't be-
She slowly moved her arm, her fingers drifting along her shirt before she pressed her palm gently against the area right below her stomach.
She...
A sudden choked sob forced its way from her throat, and she covered her mouth with her other hand as the slight horror finally set in. She leaned back against the pillar in the middle of the mill, sliding down to the ground as a sudden flow of tears streamed down her cheek.
This... This wasn't possible... How could it be possible...??? Neither of them could-
Of course, there was a small feeling of excitement... There was absolutely excitement. She wanted this. She ALWAYS wanted this. For YEARS she had wanted this. She had wanted this since she was a child, keeping that wish all up until she had 'forgotten' it. Hell, she STILL wanted it, and part of her almost planned on trying once Miranda was dead.
But... Right NOW? At this current moment?
All she could feel was fear. Horror and pure, bone chilling fear.
She sobbed silently, pulling her knees to her chest. How the hell would she do this... How would she live now?
Would it even last? Was it even possible it would survive with the Cadou?? Would she accept it, only to lose it? Should she even tell Heisenberg if there was a chance???
She couldn't help but suddenly freeze with an unpleasant shiver down her spine, her breath catching in her throat once the thought crossed her mind.
Karl. She had to tell Karl.
A sudden panic burst through her chest, and she felt her Cadou squirm in discomfort.
How would HE react???
The man never showed any interest in such a concept, even after her memories returned enough to prove her own desire. And they were busy... So busy. So busy with plans and building, with barely any time or chance to rest unless forced to. Barely any time to do anything regarding enjoyment... And even LESS time to relax and keep to themselves due to the constant production and work.
Would she even be able to RAISE a child with this?!
Her crying didn't stop for what seemed like minutes on end, though she finally forced herself to stand and halt her tears as best she could. She knew the man would be waiting for her in his own way, and she knew he'd come out to find her if she took too long. So she pushed away from the wooden beam, quickly making her way out after wiping furiously at her face. God forbid she was caught by anyone else... She didn't need to explain why a resident of the factory was currently sobbing from exiting the Mill. In fact, she wanted to avoid anyone in general, taking the long way around instead of through the village where she came from. The Lycans would alert her of anyone passing... It would take quite a bit longer than usual, but she felt she had no choice. He'd understand... he had to.
-----
The door into the workshop nearly flew open as Emelia made her way through, startling Heisenberg enough to jump as she quickly made her way to the floor grate. She barely slowed down as he watched her.
"Well hello to you too..." He grumbled. "Where the hell have you been, I almost went to look for you."
He scowled and lifted a brow as she paused and glanced over at him. But his unamusement was short-lived as he looked at her face, and his own expression fell.
"What's wrong...?"
She was silent for a moment before taking a breath.
"... We need to talk..." she managed, opening the grate. "Meet me in the Foundry."
"What? Why??"
"Because... Because I said so." Came the stern reply.
She didn't look at him. She couldn't. She felt his eyes on her as she scooted forward, only pausing as he spoke again.
"... Emmy?"
His voice was surprisingly quiet. Even he knew those two phrases together were never good. She heard him stand from the chair, but shook her head as he took a step forward.
"Just... Just meet me there. Please." She replied quietly, her voice cracking somewhat as she attempted not to cry again. She hopped down through the hole before he could say another word, quickly running through the hall and out of view as he gazed down.
-----
It seemed to take quite a bit for him to join her, but soon Heisenberg had entered the warm room she typically resided in. The casting machine ran even as she wasn't standing at it continuously, using it to keep her mind busy. But she still paced, not even stopping as he approached slowly. He watched as she paced, his confusion evident.
"Well, I'm here... What did you want to talk about?" He asked, stopping mere feet away and crossing his arms. She paused in her tracks for a moment, her jaw tensing as she ground her teeth. How in the hell was she SUPPOSED to tell him?!
"I... Moreau just..." she tried, almost feeling his sudden switch in mood from concern to irritation as she started to pace again. He couldn't stop the near angry snort he gave as he stepped forward towards her again.
"What the hell did that freak say to you??" He growled, managing to catch her arm. He met her eye. "I told you you shouldn't have gone, I swear to God I'll tear him apart if-"
"He didn't do anything!!" She snapped suddenly, making him jump and yanking her arm from his grip. She then tried to calm herself, holding up her arms in near apology. "He didn't... He didn't do anything. He just.... He found out what was wrong. He didn't do anything."
She was silent for a moment, avoiding his gaze that felt as if it were burrowing holes into her skull. Her words came out as a jumbled mess with an emotion he couldn't quite place immediately. His concern was slowly returning as she swallowed hard, joined shortly by confusion as he recognized it as fear.
She took a breath.
"Actually... You did." she managed finally.
He drew back in surprise, holding a hand to his chest as if he were insulted.
"I did something?? What the fuck is that supposed to mean? What's going on?" He asked quickly, only stopping as she shook her head.
"Karl, please..." she started, suddenly backing away to lean against the wall with a light *thump*. Heisenberg went silent for a moment as she reached to rub her face with her hands in a near distressed motion. His expression turned from confused to fully concerned, and he took a step forward towards her.
"What's wrong, Emmy...?" He asked quietly, his voice now that of concern.
Shs couldn't look at him. Her gaze remained on the ground. She could feel it eating at her, and she resisted the urge to cradle her stomach again like at the Mill. She wanted so badly to run... Run and avoid him as much as she possibly could. Anything to prevent her from revealing it... But she knew he would find her. He always did.
She had to tell him... She had to. She had no choice.
"... I'm pregnant..."
The words came as a simple whisper. A simple whisper that seemed as if it halted all noise and movement around them, rendering the room almost deathly silent. Heisenberg stared at her, his eyes wide as his breath caught in his chest.
"... Excuse me?"
She flinched. She opened her mouth to speak again, but no sound came out, and her muscles remained stiff.
She didn't move.
She COULDN'T move.
The sting of tears returned to her eye as she continue her stare at the floor. She flinched again as she heard his footsteps, unable to stop the small tear that fell as she finally looked up. She was met with his confused face, and she couldn't help as her lip trembled just slightly.
"I'm..." she tried, her voice trembling. He visibly swallowed, a nervous look in his eyes.
"I heard you..." he replied, his own uncertainty and doubt heavily laced in his own voice. He then frowned. "Emelia, that's... It's not..."
She shook her head.
"Apparently it is..."
"But I can't-"
"Karl, please..." she started, her voice cracking more. Her shoulders started to shake, and his body went rigid. "It was you... It HAD to be you." She looked at him with a pleading desperation. "The last time we had a villager was... was MONTHS ago... It's too far back, and... Karl-"
She stopped as she watched his face, her panic settling in more as she broke his gaze, staring at the ground while nearly hyperventilating. She was absolutely fucking terrified the more she spoke about it, as if they weren't the only ones down here.
He didn't move. He didn't want to believe it, even as it sunk in that she was right. He WAS the only one recently... But he had always believed himself to be entirely infertile. He didn't NEED to be careful because of what Miranda had done. He didn't think it was possible... He almost didn't WANT it to be possible...
... Did he?
Maybe, just maybe, the idea had been tempting at one point in his life. Maybe it was tempting while he still had the chance to 'escape' in youth, if he had thought it possible. Maybe unintentionally with someone he didn't care much about, just to say he could have... Just to say it could happen. But now? This moment in time?
He kept his eyes on her, but found himself lifting his hand towards her slightly. The movement only paused as she flinched, the smallest spark of fear in her eye.
"I won't hurt you..." He said simply. Emelia glanced down at his hand before forcing herself to relax as much as she could.
No... No, this was Heisenberg. He wouldn't hurt her... He would have by now of he wanted to. It's always how he was...
So why was she so afraid?
She watched with growing surprise as his hand finally found and settled itself on her stomach with a gentle pressure from his palm. It remained there, and he looked down at it.
"... Is he positive?" He asked quietly. She was silent, but nodded stiffly as she set her own hand over his.
"The signs are there..." she replied quietly. "Symptoms, feeling, the timing of it all... Everything..."
She couldn't stop the now constant flow of tears down her cheek as she spoke. Heisenberg was now the silent one, his eyes focused on their hands before he suddenly looked up.
"Does she know?"
Emelia couldn't help as the corner of her mouth twitched into the smallest amused smile she could muster.
"No... I threatened to butcher him alive if he told her..."
She relaxed just slightly as she heard a quiet chuckle.
"That's my girl..." He replied with an amused tone. His face then fell slightly, but not to anger. No, he didn't feel anger... It was an odd mixture of nervousness, concern, and... excitement? He was visibly torn about what to feel. "... You're sure...?"
"Y-Yes, I..." she tried, on the verge of sobbing again. But she held it back, instead choosing to focus on the feeling she wanted to.
She WANTED to be happy about this. It was her dream. It had always BEEN her dream. Even if Moreau was wrong... Even if the chance was there that the Cadou wouldn't allow it. Even if she had to live in fear of Miranda. She wanted to enjoy what she could, even if she knew it would hurt so much more to let go... And the most joy she had right now after so long of being trapped, after so long of being afraid, was finding out her dream was so much closer to being realized. She managed to give a small, wavering smile.
"I'm... I'm pregnant, Karl... I..."
Neither spoke for a few moments afterwards, and the only noises were the factory itself and her own quiet whimpers as she fought off sobs. Heisenberg was continuously silent for once. He didn't know what to think... Hell, he didn't know what to feel. Even he had accepted years ago that nothing like this would ever happen, nor was it ever a possibility. Even as they had their moments, there was never the possibility. They weren't human. The Cadou had altered their bodies to a degree, it shouldn't have BEEN a possible thought for either of them, even if attempted. But yet, here he was, in front of the only person he had ever quite cared for in years, being told explicitly that the thing he never thought would happen was, in fact, happening.
He was... He was going to be a father. He WAS a father at the current moment. If the fish man was right, that was... The idea raced through his mind multiple times at once, forcing him to focus on it and it alone for a few moments.
He was a father?!
He watched Emelia closely, gaging her reactions. Her hand had tightened around his as she gazed down at her stomach, tears running freely. Some landed on his glove, others to the floor. He could see the excitement in her face. He could FEEL the excitement... But he also felt her fear. Even he knew the dangers of this, and he wouldn't admit it, but he was terrified too. The very moment the child was conceived, they were in extreme danger... He knew damn well he'd lose her if the bitch found out... He'd lose her AND this new chance at odd life. He'd lose what he came to grow so oddly fond of in the first place. 
The thought of this being ripped away by the one they both hated the most terrified him, and made him indescribably angry. Though he attempted to push the thought from his mind, it remained there. If that woman found out... If she caught wind of it. If she even so much as fucking glanced their way at any point after this... He tried his best to hide Emelia alone for her Cadou bonding to prevent her from more horror of being taken and 'tested'. He knew HE was considered 'almost perfect' to her, and was tortured for it-
He didn't want to know how his own child, the natural result of both of their powers, would be treated in attempts to revive the bitches own brat.
He remained silent with his thoughts, but suddenly moved to reach forward and bring her into a tight hug. Emelia jumped with a surprised yelp as she was nearly crushed to his chest, his arms around her in a possessive and protective, yet still careful embrace. He held her to him silently, his eyes on the molten metal that filled the moulds behind her.
She didn't move. She was admittedly almost afraid to move... But she carefully returned the hug as he finally nuzzled his face into her shoulder, gripping his shirt for dear life as her face went into his neck. He kept his grip on her before he spoke.
"Do you really think he won't tell her?" He asked, his voice muffled from her shoulder. She sniffled and nodded.
"Salvatore thinks of me as a friend... He promised not to." She said quietly, only to press her cheek to his. It just... felt right at the current moment. Any kind of 'affection felt right. "I also told him she wouldn't be angry if she didn't know. If he thinks she'll accept it, he'll do anything to make her happy..."
"I don't trust him." Heisenberg sighed, pulling away slightly, but still staying close enough to press their foreheads together. She managed to smile again.
"You never trust them, Karl." She replied quietly, glancing down again. She then frowned once more, returning one hand to her stomach.
"... Do you think the Cadou will let it survive...?" She asked, her voice a near whisper again. She felt at he paused, and he let out a huff.
"I can't lie to you, Emmy... I really don't know." He mumbled. She was silent before swallowing hard with a wavering breath.
"What do we do now...?" She questioned, looking back up at him. She was surprised to see his eyes down, focused on her hand. He didn't speak, instead moving his own hand to rest against hers gently.
"... We keep living." He finally responded. "Go on like nothing happened for now. But you can't be around that bitch, or she'll sniff it out like the goddamn witch she is... That means no outside, not like that matters much to you..."
"I'd much rather be down here anyway..." She nodded. "What about Soldat supplies...?"
"I'll get them myself." He finally pulled away, though held one of her hands carefully. "Come on. You should rest."
"... I'm not tired?" She said, now very confused as she wiped at her face with the other. He rolled his eyes.
"Then stay in the workshop with me." He started to pull her along, keeping a tight, yet gentle grip on her hand. "I don't want you out of my sight for the next few days."
"Why??"
He looked back at her.
"Because if that Freak decides to say a damn word to her, I'm not letting her come after you without me around."
She stared at him before nodding carefully with a nervous whimper. She trusted the fish Lord... But she also knew Heisenberg was right. If there was anyone who could hide her effectively, it was him.
"Does that mean I can't work...?" She asked suddenly. He chuckled, surprising her.
"I'll allow a break." He managed to joke, somewhat relaxing as he heard her irritated grunt. He glanced back at her again. "Look Emelia, as much as I know you like working, I told you I want you in my sight for the next few days. Unless I go down here with you, you're staying up there for now."
"... But it's cold..." she grumbled, earning another chuckle.
"You can have a few blankets, then. You can go back down without me once I know it's safe, and when you won't fucking pass out on me." He then went quiet for a moment. "... What did you tell the freak before you left?"
She paused, only to frown.
"I told him I'd let him know what happens..." she said quietly. Heisenberg shook his head.
"Well, think of something to tell him to keep him off your case. That moron can't keep a goddamn secret no matter if he promises or not."
Emelia stared at him before looking down. She knew he was wrong in that aspect... There were plenty of things she had told the fish Lord that he had kept from others, and she trusted him with this... But she knew Heisenberg had a point. The idea of lying to Moreau made her uneasy, but...
"... I'll think of something..." she mumbled.
He was silent for a moment before sighing.
"... Look..." he started, slowing down slightly to walk next to her, yet still keeping a light grip on her hand, "At this point it's for your saftey. Normally I wouldn't give a damn what he says... But with THIS?" He gestured to her stomach. She frowned, and he continued. "I'm not stupid, Emelia. I wouldn't trust any of them with this information. If, and I mean IF this thing actually happens, I don't want anything going wrong." He then lowered his voice. "I've already let too much happen to you regarding injury and putting you in that bitches path, I'm not taking chances with this. Do you understand?"
Emelia looked at him for a moment before returning her gaze to the floor. Of course she did... She didn't blame him at all for it. She might have done the same thing in his position...
"I do..." she replied, though looked up at him again. "But promise me something, Karl."
"... Depends on the promise."
She elbowed his side slightly.
"You need to promise to let me breathe every once in a while..." She said, letting go of his hand. "Be as protective as you want, but let me have some bloody peace if I ask."
"You know I can't guarantee that." He frowned.
"You'll have to."
"And if I don't?"
"Then you can expect a few new scars or another missing limb..." She growled. He was silent before chuckling again, though he knew she was VERY serious.
"I can try my best, Emmy."
She glanced over at him before shaking her head. This was... Odd. There was still an excitement in her chest as she looked down at her stomach again. There was nothing visible, and she knew nothing would be for a little while. That's if it would last long enough to hit that point-
No... She couldn't focus on that right now. She wanted to focus on the 'good', and the unbelievable. Honestly, she still didn't even believe it... It wasn't 'real'... Was it...? Would she be able to see it soon? Would it prove to be true?
Her hand went over her stomach again as she thought, pressing ever so gently with light taps of her fingers. She felt his eyes on her again as he watched her move, both intrigued and nervous by this new development.
"... You'll be fine..." he managed quietly, any hint of joking gone from his voice.
She simply nodded, but didn't respond. Sure, she'd be fine... It would all be ok.
... Right?
18 notes · View notes
swcetnight · 4 years ago
Text
It’s Definitely You || kth (m.) 1
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synopsis:
Working as a barista in NYC has its perks, but when your ultimate dream of being on the Broadway stage tends to come crumbling down, the only thing that raises your spirits is the comfort of a complete stranger… who seems to have known you for far longer than you thought.
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masterlist here
→ pairing: taehyung x barista!reader (also musical theatre performer cause I had to)
→ genre: fluff, angst, future smut | strangers(ish) to lovers… i won’t give the truth away... gonna have to read and find out for yourself ;))
-> warnings: self doubt, adorable plant names... there's really not many warnings for this chapter!
→ word count: 7,973
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authors note:
alrighty everyone... here we go! (i’m so nervous) this is the first chapter of this series (which it took me 50 years to figure out whether I wanted this to be a series or a two shot... lets just say that it's gonna be a long one, so I think that a series is the best way to go)! this story is really near and dear to my heart, so 1. I really hope you enjoy it and 2. I hope all of you know how hard it was to write this into words... my goodness. now, make sure you look for clues throughout this series... there's a secret in here that won't be revealed for a while ;)) but if any of you have ideas, please be sure to send an ask while we wait to find out together! anyways, I hope you enjoy !!
authors thanks:
a HUGE thank you to @hantaev and @monvante for beta-reading and being so so supportive of me and this little (but not so little) story... y'all truly have no idea how helpful you've been and how thankful I am to be friends with both of you! forreal, y'all are the greatest and I'm sending you all my love!!
also, if you are enjoying this story, please don’t hesitate to send me an ask (on or off anon) and let me know your thoughts, feelings, theories, etc!! i would love to hear from all of you 🤍
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If time-travel existed, you would be on the first time machine and head back to 2 years ago. A time when you had a free schedule and were able to go out on Friday nights. A time when you felt confident in yourself and were raring to pursue theatre. A time when you didn't have this job (cause apparently, theatre is impossible to get into) that forces you awake at 4 in the morning for the opening shift.
You can't say you don't love your Barista job because you do. Still, when your alarm wakes you from the beautiful dream of performing on the big stage, you have to use everything within yourself to crawl out of your sheet cocoon… and that is unacceptable.
What's even more unacceptable is the fact that your co-worker, Jimin, hasn't arrived at the Academia Cafe yet. You have about 30 minutes to prepare for the morning peak; brew coffees, set up the bakery items, clear the boards "coffee of the day," etc. The problem is, it takes up all of the 30 allotted minutes— and you can't start prepping early because Jimin has the keys to the cafe.
You’ve worked at the Academia Cafe for about a year now, taking a break from your endless theatre audition schedule— since that was getting you absolutely nowhere. No matter how badly you want it, nothing seems to work. No matter how many times you practice, it never seems to be good enough. Let’s just say, you took this job at the cafe because you were over the repetitive let downs.
… But here you are, with a “Jimin being late” let down.
[To: Jimin ☕️] hey, you almost here? times ticking, keys!
You stuff your phone into your winter coat pocket, the brown material catching snowflakes as they fall gently from the cloudy sky. You love this weather; it's always been your favorite. When you were little, you used to pretend to be a dragon; running all over your front yard and releasing heavy breaths that chilled in the air and spread like smoke. You don't enjoy the cold, but the entire feel of winter has you cozying up in a blanket with hot cocoa and a good book… nothing could beat that.
A buzz in your pocket catches your attention.
[From: Jimin ☕️] Hey! Look up.
Your eyes immediately lift to see Jimin smiling a few feet away, shuffling through the snow as he drags the keys out of his pocket. He's sporting a heavy blue coat that reaches down to his knees — making his short stature appear even smaller — topped with a matching blue beanie. Despite his tardiness today, you’ve always been fond of Jimin. He's like a ray of sunshine, beaming through the skyscrapers of the city and making everyone around him happy just by flashing a single smile. Honestly, you wish you could sneak some of that happiness from him and lock it somewhere safe... so you can save it for a time when you need it most.
"Your timing is impeccable." He laughs, gently placing the keys into the front door lock. "You texted me right as I was rounding the corner."
"I'm telling you, Jimin; we're always on the same wavelength."  Smirking, you make your way through the doors of the cafe, greeted by the warmth that surrounds you like your sheet cocoon did this morning, but accompanied by the smell of fresh coffee. "Except for the fact that you, my friend, are late, so now we only have twenty-eight minutes until opening."
Old, rustic book pages litter the cafe's dark walls, executing the dark academia theme flawlessly. You have to give the interior designers a hand, what with the black stools and high dark wood counters etched with different story pages. You wonder if anyone took the time to read the stories that covered the cafe; maybe the stories moved them in a personal way. Maybe there was a reason why they read them, a part of the butterfly effect of their life.
With a quick survey of the main room, you shuffle into the back to put your belongings away. "You would think it would be less busy on the streets because of the snow," Jimin calls, already working on the first batch of light roast coffee. "But unfortunately for me, that was not the case, and I nearly lost my life multiple times on the way here because of how slick it is."
A laugh emits from your lips, echoing in the backroom as you throw your apron over your head.
You begin with date labeling all of the pastry items, placing them accordingly onto the pastry cart; croissants, muffins, scones, etc. Then, you move onto organizing syrups and setting toppings along the bar where drinks are made. Bar is your personal favorite position-- since you're able to make the drinks… Plus, you're so busy that your shift goes by way faster. The sooner you're done, the sooner you get to go home and sleep.
“All set?” Jimin questions when you finish setting the steaming pitchers next to the espresso machine, tossing the rag he used to wipe down tables into the sanitizer bin. You give him a nod, taking a quick once over of the bar. “Alright,” he claps, “let's do this.”
This morning runs like every Friday morning, busy and fast. The sounds of coffee glasses clinking and the calling of customer names at the hand-off station echoes through the air.
Ahhhh, the scenery in coffee shops; the quiet hush over the room as soft jazz plays over the speakers. It’s soothing, all encompassing, and extremely helpful for motivation… You used to go to a local cafe for homework when you were still in school.
You take a breath, relaxing against the back counter as you overhear a conversation a group of regulars are having. It’s the usual small talk: the weather, families, sharing pictures of recent events. Coming up with questions of the day for customers becomes easier after knowing their stories, so you subconsciously listen in often.
Because of this, you almost don't notice the man waiting at the register, wholly delved into the neighboring conversation— only looking over when you hear your name called.
"Y/n?"
You turn your head, catching eyes with the stranger behind the counter who holds his credit card ready. The first thing you notice is that he's young, probably around your age, wearing a brown turtleneck and white slacks. His eyes are dark, standing above his perfectly sculpted nose and lips. His hair is dark as well, forehead drowning within the wavy bangs that fall over his eyebrows as he takes you in. To be completely honest, he's probably the most handsome man you've had the pleasure of seeing… is that weird? You don’t know him… maybe that is weird.
The second thing you notice is that he looks completely anxious, hands grasping the edge of the counter like there's a thousand-foot drop below him. Why is he looking straight at you while doing that? Maybe you should call Jimin to take ove-
“Is it really you?” He questions, taking you aback.
"I-" You clear your throat, walking forward to meet him at the register, "I'm sorry, do I know you?"
With an intake of breath, he releases the counter as he studies you. Was he… crying? You swear his eyes were not this bloodshot three seconds ago.
"You-" He pauses, taking another sharp breath and running a hand through his hair. If you thought he couldn't get more attractive, you were wrong. "Do you know me?"
Attractive? Yes. Psycho?...possibly.
You shake your head slightly, “I… I’m sorry. I don't-"
Wait… is he a regular? You swear you haven't seen him come into the cafe before. Shoot.. What if he is? The number one thing your boss has made perfectly clear: remember the regulars, so they come back and feel at home; recognized. Customer connection was the most important thing at the Academia Cafe… He's probably a regular.
“I’m so sorry, there're so many people that come to visit us and sometimes I forget the regulars!” You apologize. “That’s my fault… remind me of your name again?”
He's staring at you. Full-on staring, jaw slacked. Shifting uncomfortably in your keds, you eye beside you to see Jimin working away at a macchiato. You consider changing places, nearly walking over to him before the customer speaks again.
"It's- It's Taehyung."
You force a smile, nodding while he continues to stare at you. He seems a bit more hesitant, his eyes looking in different directions but ultimately falling back onto your own. Even if he tried, he couldn't hide the rosy color that spreads onto his cheeks. What was this guy's problem?
"Taehyung! Awesome, well, what can I get for you today?" You chirp, attempting to brighten up your increasing discomfort. He might have mistook you for someone else, you decide, jumping back into your customer service personality: kind and quick to the point.
Taehyung doesn't move, training his eyes on you. You've never had a man's undivided attention before, since boyfriends were never an option. When you were a teenager, you stayed home most of the time in your hometown, and the boys there were all just in it to take your pants off. You avoided them and never really caught their attention, so you can't help the uncomfortable blush that grows on your cheeks. It’s short lived though, your nerves dissolving as soon as you notice a single tear fall onto the front of his shirt.
Oh. Okay, he’s definitely crying.
"Sir..." You begin, leaning in closer to avoid drawing attention. "Is everything alright?"
"I…" The shake in his voice is evident as he puts his credit card back into his wallet, still refusing to break eye contact. “Excuse me." Without another word, he turns on his heel and rushes towards the exit, clocking a customer in the shoulder in his rush. He apologizes quickly, bowing to them before glancing behind to make eye contact with you once more.
You wish you could read minds, wondering what the hell is going through his brain… but you notice the tiniest gleam of a hopeful smile that hides on his lips.
And then he’s gone.
“I swear it was the strangest thing, Jimin.” You speak nervously, tugging at the strings of your apron and lifting it over your head. It had been busy all day, despite a quick thirty minute break when everyone had left and the cafe was suddenly a deserted island. You appreciated the busyness, it made your shift go by faster. Right now, all you wanted to do was go home, eat a fat bowl of icecream and distract yourself from the events of today with a movie. Thank God your shift was over.
“Maybe he thought you were someone else?” Jimin insists, taking a bite into the extra Blueberry Muffin you’d accidentally heated when you were distracted by the events that occurred earlier.
“Yeah? Well, I must be the spitting image because he was totally freaked out.”
“You never know, y/n. Or, maybe he just used that as an excuse to talk to you.” You could hear the smirk in his voice, throwing your rolled up apron at him harshly before you grab your belongings.
“Ha, ha, you’re hilarious. This guy looked like he had seen his ex… He was crying. I don’t think he was into me.”
“Maybe his eyes were watering from the cold wind?” He offers.
“Enough to cry actual tears?” You scoffed, “C’mon Jimin.”
He shrugs defensively, picking up his things so the two of you can head out a few minutes earlier than usual. Whenever the baristas have a chance to leave early, they take it. “If he comes back, then ask him: hey, dude, what’s your deal?”Jimin works his way through the cafe, throwing an excess chair upside down onto the table with the rest of them.
You hold your hand above your heart, which is still beating at a faster pace due to this discussion. Can hearts even beat this fast? This can’t be healthy… “Oh wow, you have such a way with words. That definitely won’t make him feel uncomfortable!”
Yes. Sarcasm coping mechanism.
“Y/n.” Jimin meets you at the door and puts his hands on your shoulders, making extra sure he has your attention. “Go home. Don’t think too much into it… He was probably high or something and mistook you for his ex that dumped him and now he’s moping through the city and getting into all sorts of trouble and he’ll forget that he even came here tomorrow morning. Okay?”
You nod slowly, exiting the cafe with Jimin on your tail. "Don't worry, y/n." Jimin adds, "He probably won't even come back." He locks the door and gives you one last thumbs up before heading in the opposite direction, calling out at the last second. “See you tomorrow!”
The forced smile on your face appears again (looks like this was a regular occurrence today), waving him goodbye.
Yeah… tomorrow.
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Jimin was right. The handsome crying stranger was probably never coming back.
It has been a few weeks since you met him for the first time. Now, it feels like a distant memory. He hadn’t shown up to the cafe the day after the encounter, or the day after that, or the day after that, and eventually you’d come to the conclusion that he was probably never going to show his face again out of pure embarrassment. You can’t say you blame him. You’d be embarrassed too if you stared at and cried over a random stranger.
Still, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment... You'd kind of hoped you could figure out what his problem was, maybe ease his mind a little if you really did look like a past lover. You would make sure he knew that it wasn't you. What if he was avoiding the cafe because he literally thought you were someone else? Great… now you just feel bad.
"Y/n? Are you listening?" Jimin beckons over the phone.
"Huh? What?" You bounce back to reality, the soft comforter of your bed lying beneath you as you stare out the window. Thanks to your wonderful apartment search, you have a beautiful view of the city. Jimin had helped you find a place when you first moved here. The two of you had met when you visited to check out the first apartment options; he even took you out for a drink afterward to celebrate the first days' completion. Jimin had immediately clicked with you, as he does with everyone-- he was the kind of person to make friends insanely quickly. He must've been super popular in high school... unlike you.
"Y/n Y/l/n. I am giving you a chance to meet more people, and you're not even listening to me!" He cries, a light smack coming from the other end (probably from him slamming his hand on the table).
"Okay, okay-- I'm sorry. I'm listening now; what's up?"
With a deep sigh, he speaks again. "Party. My house. Tonight. It's not gonna be wild, don't worry... it's just a get-together with some of my friends, and you can have a few drinks if you would like to."
Gnawing at your bottom lip, you look over towards the clock on your nightstand. 5:00. "I don't know..." You begin, the bed shifting as you raise into a seated position. "I have to work tomorrow morn-"
"Already got your shift covered." He deadpans.
"What??"
"I already got your shift covered, so you have no excuse."
This sly guy.
"Who covered it?" You question, setting the audio to speaker-phone as you rummage through old text messages you haven't gone through (to prep for your "thank you for covering my shift" text message).
“Jin.” Noted.
“So…” Jimin continues, “are you coming?”
You can't even remember the last time you met new people, let alone gone to a party. Parties weren't necessarily your thing, especially with your busy schedule of workdays and auditions-- you just never had the time. You should be excited, right?
Well, you aren't.
"Jimin, I don't know… I'm not really a huge fan of parties." You mumble over the phone, picking at the lone string that popped out of its stitch on your comforter.
"Y/n, it's a small get-together, and it's not gonna be that kind of party. Believe me; it'll be really chill. It's just me, you, a few other coworkers, and some friends from my journalism class."
You chew at your bottom lip, looking over at your closet to see a single green cocktail dress that you hadn't worn in years. The memory of the dress was a good one… you had just finished up curtain call for The Addams Family and wore that dress to the after-party. It's a short sleeve, layered green dress that flows just over your knees, the same color sash tying the waist in a floppy bow. You blush at the memory of winning best dressed.
A pause, “Okay.” You conclude. “I’ll go.”
Jimin was honest about how chill it would be; soft music plays in the background as the group sits around the table playing cards. A basketball game is playing on the TV, desperate for attention as a player scores a 3-pointer, but no one is watching. Shuffling of cards is the only sound heard in the room as the game continues.
The atmosphere is calm… quiet…
“BULLSHIT.”
The immediate crumble of everyone’s mood causes the loud “HELL YEAH” that makes you jump in your seat.
"And that is how it's done, Ladies and Gentlemen." Jungkook (your fellow coworker) claps, his smile brighter than the sunset that seeps through the curtains on the opposite side of the room.
"And that's on cheating!" Jimin picks up the cards in the center of the table, gathering them clumsily back into a pile.
"It's called having skill," Jungkook replies, holding his hands up as he smirks at his opponents.
"No, it's called luck." Yoongi finalizes as he puts his hand of cards down on the table with a roll of his eyes. You haven’t met Yoongi before until tonight. He’s one of Jimin's friends from Journalism Class.
When you arrived, you decided to sit out of this round and learn to play before joining the game-- knowing you; you would've been crushed within the first minutes of playing. Card games weren’t exactly a skill of yours— board games on the other hand were where it’s at! That, and charades. For the sake of the party, a card game didn’t sound too bad this time around— so you poke at Jimin to give you the hand as he serves cards for everyone else.
“Wait, wait, wait—“ Jimin pauses, his hand disappearing beneath the table to grab his phone. “Hello?”
“I’m not Irish, so does luck really count?” Jungkook questions in a hushed whisper, nudging Yoongi in the side.
“Oh hey...yeah... it’s apartment 205.” Jimin continues.
“You’re so funny, Jk. Maybe you’ll actually become successful if you choose stand-up comedy rather than becoming a musician.” Yoongi replies nonchalantly, his cat-like eyes staring at the abandoned pile of cards before he seems to come to the decision to shuffle them himself. He gives you a small smile when you hold your hand out to signal that you’re joining in this round.
“Mhm, you can just walk on in! Doors unlocked… okay.. alright, see ya in a minute.” When Jimin's phone is down, Yoongi passes a hand of cards to him.
“Think you can beat me, Y/n?” Jungkook asks,”Since apparently these four can’t?” He motions to Yoongi and Jimin, glancing at the other two players of the game: Hoseok (Jimins other classmate) and his girlfriend, Faith.
“I think I can.” You say, smirking at the determined expression on Jungkooks face. Even if you weren’t very fond of card games, there was one thing you were even less fond of: losing.
“Mmm, might want to rethink that, but okay.” Jungkook replies. The two of you are death staring when the sound of the front door creaking open catches the attention of everyone else at the table. Jimin shoots out of his chair.
“Taehyung!”
You freeze.
"You-" He pauses, taking another sharp breath and running a hand through his hair. If you thought he couldn't get more attractive, you were wrong. "Do you know me?"
Attractive? Yes. Psycho?... possibly.
“I’m so sorry, there're so many people that come to visit us and sometimes I forget the regulars!” You apologize. “That’s my fault… remind me of your name again?”
"It's- It's-."
“Taehyung, you just missed me creaming everyone in bullshit.” Jungkook boasts. Your eyes are glued to the side of Jungkook's head, not daring to make eye contact with the source of your nerves the past few weeks.
“Oh did I?” The familiar, deep voice utters.
Okay.. you can’t help but look…
Holy—it’s actually him.
Immediate regret sinks into your soul when you see him. God, he’s even handsomer than you remember. A white woolen sweater hangs over a pair of his black pants, matched with white sneakers and accenting the head of dark wavy hair you’d been thinking about since you last saw him.
“Yep!” Jungkook continues. “And now Y/n’s about to get shitfaced too.”
The moment his eyes swiftly glance your way is the moment you crumble and turn your head back to Jungkook. You had hoped to make a sly remark, something along the lines of “in your dreams,” but you’re caught breathless from the tension in the room. The tension only the two of you are aware of. He must be tense too, right?
“I wouldn’t underestimate her.” You hear out of Taehyung's mouth, stealing a look at his face once more. He’s smirking at Jungkook, hanging his coat on the hook beside yours, oblivious of the way you’re basically dissecting his every move.
“Have you met Y/n?” Jimin questions, provoking Taehyung's eyes to fall back onto yours. This time, you don’t look away.
He doesn’t answer right away, making you more nervous than you should be— the silence deafening as you make to explain, “We-“
“No.” He states plainly, cutting you off. An innocent smile plays on his lips as he looks at Jimin and places his messenger bag beside the door.
No? Uhhh, was he not the guy who pretended to know who you were and cried in front of you without even explaining why? Nope, it’s definitely him.
“I’m Taehyung.” He calls in your direction, offering you a boxy smile and a small nod, “Don’t let Jungkook fool you. A girl pinched him when we were in grade school. He barely lasted five seconds before running away screaming.” Taehyung moved to the table, sitting beside the man he just brutally embarrassed.
“That girl was terrifying. She was way taller than all the other sixth graders. It was an unfair situation.” Jungkook protested, sinking in his chair as he shuffled the cards he held in his hand.
You couldn’t help but stare dumbly at Taehyung. Was he embarrassed of his outburst at the cafe that he just hopes you forgot about him? You guess you didn’t exactly meet each other, other than a few words exchanged before he disappeared out the door. He probably doesn’t want his friends to know about what happened. Or did he not recognize you and completely forgot about the whole ordeal?
Okay, it’s fine… totally fine.
“I’ll have to keep that in mind,” you laugh, “no more coming in late, Jk. Or I’ll have to pinch you.”
Jungkook merely rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his beer. You see the crinkle in Taehyung's eyes as he laughs, the boxy smile taking root on his face again… a smile you’ve begun to enjoy the look of.
Hey. Snap out of it. This guy is so confusing. That’s a red card.
You straighten up in your seat, catching Jimin's attention when you move towards the kitchen, motioning with your hand to signal that you’re getting another drink. You have a feeling you’re gonna need some more alcohol to get through the evening.
Jimins place is clean, every knick knack placed neatly where it belongs; accompanied by the smell of potted plants that he keeps by his windows. Little name tags are attached to the plant stems: Flo, Sprout, Bob. He names his plants. Sweet.
He, like you, has a great view of the city too, a mid-size window perched above his breakfast nook where a small potted plant (quotabley named “bean”) grows. The city is bustling below as you reach for a beer, shrugging off the fact that you hate beer, but at least the taste will distract you from Tae-
“Hey.” You hear a soft voice call from the kitchen archway. When you turn you nearly drop the bottle out of your hand. Taehyung gives you a soft smile.
“Hey! Uh.. did you want a beer, or are you a wine guy?” You question, cringing at how much higher your voice sounds at his close proximity.
“I— Sorry, neither.” He starts, shoving his hands into his pockets as he makes his way around the island. “I uh- I just wanted to talk to you about something.”
You nod slightly, “Yeah of course… what’s up?”
“Um,” he’s nervous, you notice. “I just wanted to apologize about the whole thing at the cafe a few weeks ago.. I was— not in the right state of mind.” He meets your eyes hesitantly, “you just look like someone I know from a long time ago and it kind of.. took me by surprise, I guess.”
Jimin was right. You offer him a smile, shaking your head in disbelief, “You know what, I truly thought that was the reason… It’s totally fine. I’m not who you think I am, by the way.”
A flicker of something crosses his features at your comment, something you can’t quite pick up, but he changes it quickly to a smirk. “Obviously.” He laughs, “I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable.. I’m not weird, I swear.”
“Mmm, that’s what they all say.” You tease.
He laughs, a soft sound that you want to hear over and over again. “You’ve got me there.” He takes a pause, placing his hands on the island countertop. “Let’s start over? If that’s okay? I didn’t want to mention it when I came in because I wanted us to have a fresh start.”
You push down the questioning thought of who this woman he mistook you for was, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. “That’s totally okay.. clean slate?”
“Clean slate.” He finalizes.
“Straightforward,” You add, “I like it.”
He gives you a warm smile, the same edge in the way he looks at you dances in his eyes before he breaks it off, sliding the bottle of beer out of your own hand. “Actually, I think I will have a beer. You don’t seem like a beer drinker, anyway.” He turns quickly, smirking at you before striding out of the room. “Thanks, Y/n!”
Protestations die on your lips as he disappears from the room, your beer along with him. How rude. You can’t help the smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you turn back to the cupboard, skipping the beer and pouring yourself a second glass of wine. You weren’t a beer drinker, after all.
Although you weren’t one for parties, you couldn’t help but admit the fact that you were having a good time. No, a great time. All of you are seated in Jimins living room; a plate of chips sits on the coffee table, which was the hot spot of the night (considering there’s hardly any remaining). Others in the group still have a glass of alcohol in their hands, the tipsiness evident by the slurring of their words. You had stopped yourself after half of your second glass, playing it safe since you still have to walk home after the party. You weren’t much of a drinker anyway-- your family history being the root of this decision.
It isn’t the games that made the night this enjoyable, or the food, or the movie that is currently playing over Jimin's television (which, by the way, is Moulin Rouge, because half of the room enjoys musicals, and the other half enjoys regular movies. So, you decided to settle on a movie musical). None of that matters, except the fact that you’ve never felt this carefree in a long time.
For one night, you can put aside your cafe job, auditions, and never-ending to-do lists and just have fun. Real fun. Even in the audition rooms, it has never been fun for you. It’s been nerve-wracking to a fault and always ends with a “thank you for taking the time, but we’ve decided not to accept you this time around,” or a callback, which ultimately concludes with the same grueling fate.
But this is different.
This is a group of people who genuinely want to spend time with you and get to know you… with no “not this time’s” or open-ended questions.
Especially with Taehyung. You’re surprised at how quickly the two of you seemed to hit it off, despite the awkward introduction. Now, it feels like he’s known you for years… in the best way. You’re comfortable talking to him, chatting together during the movie about the plot points or songs you find specifically endearing. You had initially planned to sit next to Jimin… but ended up next to Taehyung on the couch.
It just happened.
He enjoys musicals as well, you learn. Maybe not as much as you do, but at least he doesn’t despise them. He’s one of Jimin’s friends from their shared art class. He loves the color brown. His favorite food is watermelon. He does illustrations for Jimins journalism projects (which, in your opinion, are exceptional from the photos he showed you during the movie while the others were engulfed in the film). He wishes to pursue traveling journalism, where he draws what he sees rather than taking pictures. His whole aura is warm… like a heated blanket that envelopes you whole when you feel him shift beside you on the sofa. A small reminder that he’s still there.
Okay, you’re liking his presence way too much.
He finds romance movies corny but a guilty pleasure nonetheless. This, the reason why he agreed to watch Moulin Rouge despite the cheesiness in the beginning. In the end, it was anything but cheesy.
"Well, that was stupid." Jungkook scoffs, slamming the remote onto the neighboring loveseats' armrest. The once loud room filled with music is now quiet from the after-effects of the movie.
“I told you it was sad!” Jimin exclaims. The two of you had seen this movie before in theatres… and this was nothing compared to how the ending hit the first time. “Y/N was nearly choking. She was crying so hard when we saw it.”
An immediate blush rises onto your cheeks as you shake your head in defiance, trying to hide the tears that had been stinging your eyes for the last thirty minutes. “Who wouldn’t cry at that??”
“Taehyung probably didn’t. He never cries.” Hoseok deadpans. Ha. You can’t help but remember the tear that ran down his face in the cafe… He never cries?
With a quick look over your shoulder, you find that Taehyung is no longer seated on the couch. When did he get up? You attempt to shrug off your curiosity, pivoting back towards the chip table where only sad little crumbs remain. You were worrying way too much over a man you quite literally just met tonight… even if it felt like you’ve known him for much longer.
Taehyung eventually reappeared, stating that he had to use the bathroom— you ignored the fact that it took him a solid 30 minutes to get back to the party. It wasn’t your place to ask any questions, especially since he lifted a smile onto his face the second he reentered the room. See, y/n… nothing to worry about.
It wasn’t long before you insisted you head home, knowing that you’d curse yourself in the morning if you stayed out past the sunrise. If you did, you’d sleep through tomorrow, and that would be awful. You’ve done this a few times… and every time, you felt like you had wasted an entire year of your life.
You move to grab your purse and jacket, which are hanging comfortably on the hook beside the front door. With a small smile, you bid everyone goodnight— smiling as they resume a card game around the table at one o’clock in the morning. It’s nice to know that the group of you hit it off… now; you can look forward to plenty of get-togethers in the future.
Your mind is bustling with all kinds of ideas: picnics in central park, late-night broadway shows, hangouts at the caf-
“Y/n!” The soft calling of Taehyung's voice causes you to halt near the exit, turning on your heel to see him jogging towards you. He had haphazardly thrown his jacket over him since it’s still being tugged onto his body as he runs. His hair becomes even more chaotic in his haste… Why do you want to run your hands through it?
“Hey!” You squeak, interrupting your thoughts before they trudged down a guilty road. “What are you doing? Weren’t you going to play another round?”
He gives you a smirk, catching his breath as he holds out your house keys. “You forgot these! You were really moving fast… sick of us already?”
“Wh— oh my god, thank you!” With a quick swipe of your hand, you’re stuffing your keys into your pocket with a grateful smile. “Also, hardly.”
You admire the way his eyes light up at your confession. “Well.. since you don’t want to leave us so quickly.. how about I walk you home?” He seems almost hesitant asking, but you can’t help but applaud him for actually taking the initiative to inquire.
You shake your head, pulling the strap of your purse farther up your shoulder. “You don’t have t-“
“I want to!” He cuts you off quickly, catching you by surprise as he moves past you to open the door. He glances back, taking in your reluctant expression, “It’s not safe this time of night Y/n… You shouldn’t be alone.“
You know he didn't mean anything by that statement… But the idea of someone genuinely caring and not wanting you to be alone makes your heart swell. Jimin cares about your safety of course, but this feels… Different.
This is the reason why you allow him to walk you home.
The snow crunches beneath your feet, like a symphony that beckons you home. You’ve been feeling exhaustion seeping into your bones for the last ten minutes, but Taehyung's occasional brush of his arm as he walks beside you keeps you wide awake. He doesn’t think to apologize for accidentally touching you, but you blame it on the time of night. Delusion.
“How long have you lived in New York?” You question, wrapping your coat tighter around you to kick out the nipping air.
“About a year now,” He responds, shuffling his feet, “though it feels like way longer. You?”
“Three years.”
Taehyung turns his head towards you, eyes wide. “Wow, way to one up me.” With a teasing smile he continues, “You must know this city like the back of your hand.”
The truth is… you don’t. You came here for the sole purpose of making it on Broadway... you never really took the time to focus on anything else. Part of you wishes you had learned more, craved more, wanted more with your life—then you wouldn’t be so miserable when the one thing you do want doesn’t work out. “Yeah… kind of.”
If he hears the somber tone of your voice, he ignores it, turning against the wind as he walks backwards down the sidewalk. “It’s overrated in my opinion.”
You raise your head at this, “Why is that?”
“Everyone here has dreams… and those dreams get crushed more often than not.” He shrugs, “No one cares if you want to succeed, only if you already have.”
You stare at him for a moment, awestruck by the weight of his words. “But,” he adds, turning back towards the wind, “the ones who never give up and continue to chase that dream can become successful. Despite all of the no’s they might face, they always hold on till they hear a yes. That sounds like true success to me.”
Turning your head, you stare at the side of his face— admiring the way his hair tosses back a bit against the harsh winter winds. His words hit you way deeper than he probably realized, sinking into your chest with an overwhelming sense of accomplishment. You’ve been contemplating recently on whether or not to give up on your dream… that maybe it just wasn’t going to work out for you. You have been trying for so long, and have repeatedly been let down. There was no way Taehyung could have known, which is why his words hit you as hard as they did. Despite the hardships, you’ve been here for three years and you’ve never given up or stopped trying to chase your dream.
That was an achievement, right?
“To be honest… I've heard a lot of no’s in my three years of being here.” You speak softly, tucking a fallen strand of hair behind your ear. “Sometimes it feels like there will never be a yes… but here I am. At least I'm still working— at a coffee shop, not on the stage.”
“It’s admirable that you keep going.” Taehyung glances at you over his shoulder. “It makes you different from a lot of people who have left the city when they faced failure. It’s something to be proud of. Plus, coffee shop or big stage, you’re in New York City and pursuing your gift. It’s special.”
When your eyes meet, you smile at him, feeling a sense of victory the longer you hold his gaze.
“Don’t give up, Y/n. No matter what.” He speaks genuinely, leaning towards you to nudge you gently on your shoulder. You can’t help but laugh at his playfulness, giving him a nudge in return before your eyes downcast to your winter boots. The snow on the ground is fresh, powdery and sticking to the toes of your shoes. “Plus,” He adds, sucking in the chilly air, “you've got what others don’t have…”
This time when you meet his eye he has a serious expression, making sure he has your full attention as you round the corner towards your apartment building. His gaze is genuine, captivating… and a part of you hopes that the close proximity of your apartment wouldn’t cut this moment short. Finally, he speaks.
“You have passion.”
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Taehyung's words weigh on you for the rest of your night. It started off as something simple, looking up audition songs for an upcoming off-broadway show your agent was telling you about. Then, you went to learning it. After that, putting on makeup. And finally, completely forgetting about your sleep schedule and filming an entire audition tape in your room at 2 in the morning (and you were belting… your poor neighbors). It wasn’t until four that you finally turned in for the night, not bothering to take off your makeup or get changed-- simply falling onto your pillow and blacking out the moment you hit it. You were definitely sleeping the next day away… but at that moment, you didn’t mind. Having a day off from your busy schedule wouldn’t be so bad.
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“I sent in an audition tape two nights ago.” You speak confidently, wiping down the back counter that’s littered with coffee grounds. They stick to the rag like glue, tiny dots scattered along its white surface. If it weren’t for your apron,
and your expertly rolled up white turtleneck sweater, you would look alot like this rag right now.
“Did you?” Jimin questions from the bar, sleeving the cup before placing it on the handoff counter.
“Christopher! Medium cappuccino!” He calls, multitasking while he cranes his neck to still hear you.
“I did. I feel really good about this one..” You add, meeting him beside the bar as he lifts the pitcher up and down to create the latte-art of a flower in the center of the mug. You have tried sooooo many times to make latte art… and every time it ended up looking like a glob. A big, distorted snowball. Jimin was the master of latte art, always finishing it off beautifully with a whip of his wrist. The foam atop telling a story. “It was so late-- I was totally out of it… and yet I actually enjoyed myself while filming it. I just imagined being there.. In center stage.”
“I’m happy for you, Y/n!” He smiles, turning to place the hot mug next to the cappuccino.
“Caleb! Medium caramel latte!”
He was only half listening to you. The cafe was bustling, so it truly wasn’t Jimin's fault that he was sidetracked— but nothing could hold back the small smile that played at the edge of your lips. You had actually enjoyed singing for the first time in a while.. all because of Taehyung's Academy Award winning pep talk. Who knew that all you needed was for someone to tell you like it is. With a minuscule smile, you turn back towards the counter and lift the latte you’d whipped up this morning to your lips. Your distorted snowball is fully on display at the top.
Despite the busyness, the front register is deserted, giving you time to think for a moment about the pep talk... or rather, the person who gave you it.
“I think Taehyung likes you.” Jimin deadpans.
Uhhh… You nearly spit out your snowball at that— clearing your throat as you set it down slowly onto the wooden countertop. He speaks as if this is a natural conversation starter… it’s not.
“I’m sorry?” You croak.
“Taehyung.” He repeats, turning his head in your direction with a knowing smirk. “I think he likes you.”
You give him a scoff of disbelief, watching as yet another group of regulars enter through the door. “That’s not true, he just doesn’t know me… so he made an effort to talk to me.” If you weren’t studying the group, you would've seen Jimin giving you a scrutinized look.
So, now you have his attention.
“Y/n. It’s so obvious… He spent the entire night talking to you, he left moments after you did to give you your keys and he never came back. If that isn’t someone who’s interested, I don’t know what is.” Jimin is an expert at multitasking, finishing off two drinks at the same time and calling them out.
“Well, Jimin, when people don’t know each other, they get to know each other. It’s this thing called talking and becoming friends.” The sentence hangs in the air as the doorbell chimes, signaling that yet another customer has entered the cafe and into the swarm of regulars, but the two of you disregard the sound and continue on through your bickering.
“I’m just saying, Taehyung doesn’t usually talk to girls.” Jimin adds, wiping his hands off on the white rag seated beneath his espresso machine. “Even if they wanted his attention, he didn’t give it to them. I mean— he’s nice to girls, don’t get me wrong.. but he’s never talked to them like he did with you on game night. I don’t think he’s dated anyone since he got here.”
“He’s career driven.” You say quickly.
If you thought his smirk couldn’t get any wider, you were wrong. “Yeah, girls don’t know that about him— meaning he told you, and not other girls.” Jimin deadpans.
You stare blankly at him. There’s no way. No way that a guy as attractive as Taehyung would even think about looking at you like that. There’s just no way. You’ve never had a boyfriend... or even a guy friend, until Jimin. Eventually, you’d accepted the fact that maybe you just weren’t that interesting. Maybe you weren’t pretty enough. Maybe you couldn’t flirt…. okay, you definitely couldn’t flirt— but that’s besides the point.
“He’s not interested in me.” You conclude.
“He is.” Jimin counters.
“He’s not.”
“He so is.”
“He’s so not.”
“Y/n. I swear to you. He’s interested and you need to shoot your shot.” He whisper-screams, throwing the rag in his hand onto the bar.
“Taehyung is not-“
A clearing of someone’s throat from beyond the register cuts your argument short, nearly making you lose your balance when you see who the source was.
You’re fairly certain you’ve turned pale.
Taehyung stands in front of you, eyeing between the two of you with an awkward expression. God, how long has he been standing there? “I figured I should step in before the two of you start fist fighting.”
“Hey!” The shrill of your voice causes you to wince.
“Hey.” He says with a smile, folding his arms in front of him and raising his eyes to the menu above your head. You can’t help the glare you send towards Jimin, who's notably holding back his laughter as he moves to the blender, the station farthest from the register. Ridiculous.
“What can we get for you?” You ask routinely, trying not to make it obvious that you were just talking about him… and praying that he wasn’t there to hear what the two of you were talking about.
“Hmm…” He looks especially good today, wearing a brown, long coat and a brown plaid scarf around his neck. He wasn’t kidding when he said his favorite color was brown, that’s for sure. It suits him. His hair is wavy, flowing to a point just under his eyebrows with a split off center, giving you the tiniest glimpse of his forehead. “How about an americano with hazelnut, and some cream?”
“We can do that for ya!” You have to force yourself to stop looking at him, pressing the buttons to ring up his order before you forget. You nearly overlook ringing up the hazelnut syrup. Why were you so dazed? He’s already placed his credit card into the chip reader, but your foggy brain asks anyway. “Anything else?”
“Yes, actually.” He speaks as you move towards the bar beside the register. Grabbing an empty pitcher, you pour the milk inside and reach for the steamer. He drops a dollar into the tip jar, not giving you enough time to thank him for the unnecessary effort before he speaks again. “Are you free later?”
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