#literally losing my mind trying to figure out why the game was reading a whole separate path to my hmvy file and it turns out it was coming
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holy shit, huge win today as I sat down to try and figure out why I couldn't get my first head morph edit to work correctly after a whole year and I solved every problem there could have been 😭😭😭
#THERE WAS LIKE 8 CODING ERRORS ASDFGHJKL#literally losing my mind trying to figure out why the game was reading a whole separate path to my hmvy file and it turns out it was coming#from a whole different mod I attempted to make the head compatible with eotb mod#LIKE I KNEW EVERYTHING WAS CORRECT BUT IT STILL WOULDN'T WORK#mfer all I had to do was delete the separate attempted mod file#HOLY SHIT GUYS I MIGHT BE ABLE TO PLAY BG3 SOON#I have my custom armour and casual gear all set#half-assing a hair mod but just using the stellar mod + custom fringe mod#might clean up my body texture file a little bit more#but I think all I have left is to figure out how to make an eye mod < 3#holy shit this has taken me like 2 years to complete#but hey I learned how to mod
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in my experience, faking it until you make it is the trick. there's much talk in manifesting about "living in the dream fulfilled, ignoring the 4D" etc; that's all a lot easier with the structure of your own brain where there's nothing else to dispute it.
operate at all times from the base assumption you're already plural and just figuring things out. pick who's fronting, and devote all your energy to thinking and acting as they would in every situation. even if you need to mask for IRL, think of how they'd go about it and what they'd think while doing it. if you think something unrelated, it's passive influence from another headmate, known or unknown. if you feel like one person, you're just blurry. don't deny your denial, either; even the most cis of plurals doubts themselves. just continue in your affirmation. make the game feel good to play, and you'll never want to stop playing it.
if that's what you want, anyway. desire is the only truth of self.
best wishes. 🪞
surprising lack of typing quirk /light hearted (but for some reason very formal? not sure why that's occuring lol)
(sorry for length if its overwhelming! we get carried away talking about plurality)
Thank you! Faking it till we make it is what we've been trying/doing, unfortunately we struggle with a brain that is as skeptically ingrained as the protagonist of a horror film who moves into a clearly haunted mansion claiming ghosts aren't real, when a ghost is posessing them. We are trying to push past it, but its hard to just let go. It feels like how we still get intrusive thoughts about internalized bigotry despite having spent years knowing that its wrong, but it was and still is taught to us. Wish we could throw out the "logical" bits and start anew but we know that's not how it works. Our main difficulties are knowing how to stop it, we guess we just try to avoid thinking about it.
hope you don't mind the questions, these are asked with not an expectation of an answer ^^.
so we already read this whole message and are responding to the part near the end first, if we follow this, seeing ourselves as already plural, in the example of seeing yourself as blurry instead of one person, do plurals see themselves as not one person? Well we mean we know like they know they are plural and have other members, but does that effect each member to identify as multiple people instead of one identity they see as themself (like for example if we see ourself as Z1M at our core, and currently see the person fronting as Z1M, would we still identify with a lack of singularity? That also leads to a contunie querie of is it better to start with the idea we are not just "Z1M" fronting but our headmates as well? (B1Ll, J3RM & 5p0ng3), we think we have a huge roadblock with like stopping seeing ourself as our core, with being an auditorium where we have non sentient "spectators" that don't interact with us, only eachother and watch us, therefor that and also the default narrative around us is singleness is the norm has us in a position of, "i" am Z1M, and the "host", the "core" the "main fronter", we've had this even throughout our whole time spent in system servers. How do we get rid of the idea that we, z1m are the spotlight, the center? Think our difficulties with having spent most of our life also isolated and struggling with the lack of control, we now have difficulties surrendering the idea with the concept of losing our privacy, or our own autonomy. Mostly privacy is a big issue, hell we even get embarrassed around our *spectators* who literally aren't sentient. (and also we are fine keeping the spectators, not turning them into headmates, as they work differently and also we have a dependency on how we function as an auditorium, never gone a single day without having spectators).
Second, if we are, and always have been plural, do we fully go with erasing our previos lack of identity to ourself and others? like "lie" (which we are fine with doing) to others about being truly plural?
Third, Is it ok if you're energy is very low, due to disability of bodymind? if you're horrible at knowing how to think as others, and are just sorta flailing around for anything? Anyway that's all for the questions! Again no pressure to answer, we'll just leave em' out in the open!
Thanks so much for the advice! (mirror anon?)
#trans plural#transplural#pro 🍓🌈#🍓🌈 safe#pro radqueer#pro transid#radqueer please interact#🍓🌈#radqueer 🍓🌈#rq 🍓🌈#rqc 🍓🌈#ask#asks#mirror anon
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oh boy. I’m still confused about PSIowdown and what the mangaka was trying to do with Kuusuke’s character by suddenly making him plot relevant (really, conjuring a plot out of nowhere), but here is what I’ve figured so far.
Goose I think you make a good point about Kuusuke never having the realization that younger siblings copy older siblings as a matter of course. Might I add that usually, parents actually have to verbally tell their children that ‘hey, your younger sibling looks up to you, and they just want to be like you, which is why they are copying you.’ So this is another case of Kuniharu and Kurumi haven’t done their jobs well. I’m also an older sibling who had this exact problem when I was little. I think all siblings have some degree of this issue as kids, but it becomes a problem when it turns out the younger sibling really is better than the older sibling at everything they do.
I think it was an attempt to end a feud, yeah. Questionable methods, but he definitely kidnapped the right person, so that Kusuo would come face the challenge but not be so irate he tried to get out of actually fighting/interacting. Also questionable motives; maybe he just wants to keep Kusuo around a little longer because bothering him is both entertaining and detrimental to his mental health. And kuusuke is used to a certain level of… what’s the word. Feeling terrible, I guess, and inferior. It’s what he is used to and comfortable with.
That’s how I took it, too. It’s Kuusuke’s very weird way of apologizing, and trying to end on some kind of equal terms. I think it did at least temporarily satisfy his need to win.
Yeah, I think he probably planned to stick around after Kusuo used the device to help with side effects & the adjustment period, until Kusuo left for college. Then it turned out that the device didn’t actually erase his abilities.
It would be nice if their relationship was better after that? They at least resolved some of the tension from Kuusuke’s whole never-won-a-game situation. Kusuo officially declares the match a draw, since Toritsuka helped distract Kuusuke. But would things really get better? Kuusuke still thinks of everything in terms of winning/losing. We’re given no indication that Kuusuke has evolved past this way of thinking. Which is what Goose was saying; Kuusuke is a static character. If you assume that he had selfish motives in mind by giving him the erasing device (likely).
Kuusuke (temporarily) erased his powers, which I think counted as a sort of win in his mind. But then Kusuo’s powers were able to return on their own, despite it literally destroying a part of his brain. So, Kuusuke can’t even cheat to overcome the effects of Kusuo’s PSI powers. Psychic abilities beat intelligence. And Kuusuke seems innocuous enough after PSIowdown, but has he really changed? It’s hard to say.
I think the explanation that works best for him is sociopathy, the major flaw being… why give Kusuo the power erasing device, then. Just to mess with him, knowing that it wouldn’t be permanent? But from the way it’s written, Kuusuke seems like he really didn’t know that Kusuo’s powers would come back in full. And I’ve just been spinning my wheels trying to figure that one out, when it’s probably just the wrong interpretation.
If you pinpoint his major character trait and driving motivation as an inferiority complex, then I think everything checks out. He’s a very childish person, who probably never put himself out there socially in any meaningful way, and never even connected with his brother in the first place, who hardly knows him. From the way Kusuo treats him, I don’t think they ever did anything together that wasn’t a competition.
Kurumi and Kuniharu dote on Kusuo, as do Kumigoro and Kumi, so it’s possible his inferiority complex isn’t unfounded. I read a post by Turtle-Hairo-Kineshi that made the point Kumigoro didn’t even consider that the voice on the phone claiming to be his grandson might actually be Kusuke. Kurumi and Kuniharu only visit him when Kusuo needs help with something, and Kuusuke calls them on the phone every time- never the other way around.
It’s actually quite sad. Or at least it would be if he didn’t do so many gross things in pursuit of Kusuo’s attention. And sometimes it’s genuinely entertaining how he screws with people.
As we see in the chapters with Toritsuka and Teruhashi, he’s quick to figure out people’s modus operandi and exploit it for personal entertainment.
In the case of Toritsuka, it worked perfectly because he’s an imbecile, and it was kind of funny because wow all of the sudden, Kusuke’s playing the role of playboy. And the audience knows that he couldn’t care less about attracting women when he’s not involved in some scheme, so it’s amusing to watch Toritsuka get suckered into the scam. With Teruhashi, he underestimated her, and paid the price. (His mistake was assuming his viewpoint as default, and therefore not realizing the kind of effect she had on people.)
I think the best example of Kuusuke’s shenanigans being entertaining is when he messes with Kuniharu. I for one, thought the shoe-licker-kun chapter was pretty funny. It was basically Kuusuke making massive amounts of money based off of his father’s (terrible) idea, and then arranging things so he’d be forced to beg for the job he got fired from, since Kuusuke knew Kuniharu would assume that he would get royalties from his inventions. Like… Kuusuke went to great lengths to make that happen. He wrote a good script proposal and bribed a talented mangaka, probably helped it get published and made sure it was widely distributed so it would get popular. Then he created an invention from scratch as merch based off of the novel. He basically bought the Shuensha publishing company in stocks. All of this was specifically to spite Kuniharu in the end.
I think Kuusuke is more than capable of setting Kuniharu straight, but that requires some maturity that until after PSIowdown, he simply doesn’t have. And then, ostensibly, this very suddenly changes. I chalked it up to bad character writing, but maybe there’s more to it than that.
Maybe Kuusuke actually has grown as a character. He agrees to help Kusuo with the volcano, like No Psi said, basically without any strings attached. Just because a.) he likes problem-solving b.) he cares about Kusuo and wants to help him c.) he doesn’t want Japan to be liquified. Pick a motive, or all three. Whatever the case, he doesn’t ask Kusuo to play a game with him after that to our knowledge. And he retells the events of the entire sequence to Kusuo as plot exposition, so Kuusuke knew about it, and didn’t interfere. He knew how long Kusuo had been keeping the world in a time loop. Now this is just spitballing so bear with me here- but doesn’t that mean he is giving up conditional immortality, by helping Kusuo to end the loop? People don’t age if time is constantly being rewound. Maybe he needed that much extra time to create the power erasing device. Maybe he had a better idea of the long-term effects of altering/messing with time, more than he let on to Kusuo, and only came to the conclusion that it was really dangerous after a long period of study. And maybe the reason Kuusuke didn’t offer him help before then is because- he wanted some chance at reconnecting with Kusuo. And wanted to prove he had changed. I think he managed that in the long run, though he went about it in the worst way possible. And I think that’s pretty cool. Kuusuke would have made great villain material in another genre. He’s complex, interesting, and actually vital to Kusuo’s continued existence and stability, but still does unforgivable things, he’s still constantly trying to somehow temper or nettle his brother, and by the end of it all the audience badly wants to see him brought to justice. My complaint is… he isn’t treated like the complex villain (slash antangonist) character that he is. He’s treated like a plot device, and then a nonissue. And sure, his purpose isn’t really to be some deep interesting character, but at the same time… it’s kind of framed that way? Aso sets up some expectation for the tone of the series to change once it is revealed that Saiki is going to have to literally save Japan from destruction at some point. And it’s not set up as a gag or something he can easily do. PSIowdown starts out with Kuusuke kidnapping and brainwashing one of Kusuo’s friends to turn him against Kusuo. And it’s taken seriously! It really is! For several chapters! And then there’s some hand waving and Kuusuke admits loss and everything is suddenly fine. Kuusuke is now normal I guess, Kusuo is as close to normal as a powerless Esper can be, and the world is saved from imminent destruction thanks to some quick thinking by Kusuo, Kuusuke, Aiura, and Toritsuka. But it leaves the reader wanting, I think. There is no emotional resolution, just a lot of really heavy and fucked up implications which are promptly discarded because they are no longer relevant to Aso’s goal of setting up gags. And while in some ways… yeah, good decision, because why should the reader care so much about Kuusuke in the first place. The ones we really wanted more development from were Saiki’s friends. But at the same time… he is the only one that was made so plot-relevant?
wrote down my thoughts about the sk bros relationship over the course of the series ^_^’
okay so. i have a younger sibling. hes 15 and a brat but hes been following and copying me my whole life. i thought it was annoying growing up but i realized that oh. its because hes a baby.
kuusuke just never has that realization growing up. thats like. older sibling 101. it doesn’t matter if they’re better than you at a lot of things. they aren’t as emotionally mature as you and will look up to you if you’re in their life a lot.
kusuo only hates kuusuke in the beginning because he believes that he hates him. this is somewhat of a kusuo thing and a general way a younger sibling would act in a situation like this.
^ “hahaha! just joking!” my ass. this is a whole lie oh my god.
since kusuo’s the narrator, we never see kuusuke’s default way of acting. hes literally seething this whole arc goddamn. the flash backs are in his point of view as well. he’s definitely carried that hatred since he left when he was 14.
kuusuke’s a bit of a static character the whole series. he doesn’t really have any plot other than the kitty tank thing. but one thing i think is interesting is the end of that arc. i cant tell if it was growth on the part of kusuo or on the both of them. (since they had more contact than they had before the series)
you could take that pensive expression in a lot of ways (cynically or wholesomely) . and honestly, you cant really take kusuo’s somewhat forgiving air as indicator as character growth for kuusuke since kusuo himself has undoubtedly grown.
like. he DID just fire a ton of lasers at his brother. but also
this happend. was this supposed to be endearing??🧍♂️
anyways in the reawakened powers arc they’re on much better terms so it definitely seems that way?? but what. what? like i get their relationship isn’t supposed to be normal but damn im lost. but also i think thats just the point.
they’re both young and have time to either continue being brothers despite their fucked up history or to cut it off entirely. and i think kusuo WANTS to be his brother if he’d let him but kuusuke would have to get over himself for that to happen. theres just so much going on here. why would you fire lasers at your brother -_- wheres kurumi.
#okay. yeah#draft dated Nov 19 2021#“where is kurumi” hehehe. for real. where are their parents. unruly unsupervised children#it looks like apprehension. and some genuine fear when Saiki tells kuusuke they can still be 'playmates' echoing akechi#and I don't remember writing this but I made some good points that still stand so I will queue it#meta#kuusuke#posting this after all these years...
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━ using your safeword scenarios p.3 !★
genre : hurt/comfort smut.
characters : f! reader x sakusa, matsukawa, kenma
p.1 + p.2 + m.sterlist + requests
(please read the rules before requesting ty.)
▼ cw : not proof read, use of safeword, neglect , unprotected sex, degradation , clit spanking ( 1 ), impact play ( sakusas part ), mentions of exe(s), caught masturbation (reader) , pillow humping, thigh riding, implied punishment, kinda crybaby reader, implied cockwarming, cheating (?), angst, established relationship, all characters are 18+, MDNI ▲
different safewords used this time <3
- ty to the anons and user @/please-take-me-to-the-moon for the scenarios <3
sakusa
word count : 1.4k
you knew better than to do this, humping your dearly beloved boyfriends pillow with just your cotton panties, a loose shirt with no bra under, like a bitch in heat, desperate for friction of any kind. You knew if he had caught you like this he would punish you that was guaranteed. however, in the literal heat of the moment you didn’t care. sakusa’s constant pattern of coming home the minute you were already fast asleep in your shared bed, never being able to fill the void of need in your little cunt.
〜 ☆
Considering he’d let this slide since its been a month since you’ve two have done anything sexual, these thoughts only making you hump his pillow even more desperate leaving a pool of your arousal staining his pillow, with the occasional soft whimpers of his name. losing yourself in your own lust, You didn’t hear the sound of the door clicking open.
Sakusa, leaving his practice early since his performance was unfavorable by the shitty mood he was in, lashing out on his teammates for the smallest things they’d do and so many more. in short, his team suggested he’d stay home t’ill he cooled down.
“y/n? i’m home.”he walked around the empty apartment accompanied by the muffles of your soft moans, trying to find you as quickly as possible, obviously knowing it was you. he opened the bedroom door slowly and quietly. his eyes grew wide at the scene in front of him.
still not noticing his presence in the door frame you continued humping his pillow feeling your high approach, but leave you since you needed him.
“tch.” clicking his tongue at you in disapproval. you flinched letting go of his pillow to face him, feeling your heart race when you made eye contact with him, arms folded and a look of disgust planted on his pale face. Your eyes already filling up with tears knowing what comes next. “m’ y-yoomi! w-welcome home-”
“who the fuck gave you permission to touch yourself?” cutting you off, walking towards the bed, he pinned you down to the bed, arms on your sides, hovering over you with his dead, cold, heartless gaze cutting through you, as you tried to look away in shame only earning you a slap to the face to make you look at him. the sting causing you to choke out a sob. praying internally that he’d let you off the hook just this once. you were just needy for him.he has to understand that, right?
“answer me, right.now.”
“n-no one yoomi... i’m s-sorry please don’t wanna be punished!” you pleaded to him only making him more angrier. he grabbed your jaw making you whimper at the tight grip. scanning you top to bottom, eyeing at the wet patch on your underwear.
“then why did you huh? couldn’t wait until i got home couldn’t you? needy fucking thing.” he tutted, letting go of your jaw harshly, tugging your panties down to your knees already feeling impatient himself by how his cock hardened through his shorts. despite wanting to punish you, he wanted you. needed you to be precise.
the man hasn’t felt you in a whole month how could he not miss his girlfriends tight slutty cunt? removing his volleyball shorts letting his cock spring free, he strokes himself a few times before lining himself against your cunt, letting a small sigh when you felt his hard tip touch your soaked entrance.
feeling slightly relief you were finally gonna feel him after so long. That feeling of relief however didn’t last long when he slammed his fat cock inside you without warning. you let out a yelp, hands immediately going to his chest hoping for him to not bruise your cervix from how deep he was already. he growled when he felt your palms try and stop him, so he slapped your hands away roughly marking them red.
“b-but yoomi please it hurts..it h-hurts”
you figured he didn’t hear you. but he was too focused on punishing you to care if it hurt or not. so you pleaded again for him to slow down. finally getting a response from him.
“shut up you disgusting whore.you brought this on yourself, touching yourself while your boyfriends away.”
“...dirtying up his fucking pillow while he’s gone. how fucking pathetic.” he spits, slapping your clit harshly in attempt to get you to shut up. his degrading not having a hint of reassurance anywhere like it usually does when he fucks you. normally, he’d call you his “slut” or his whore but never ever calling you a disgusting one at most, what did this mean?..you asked yourself, mind going hazy with fear. feeling like your boyfriend finds you disgusting for your actions, and not a single trace of love or concern for you, not even noticing how you tried inching yourself away from his pace.
sakusa was a mean dom yes, but he cared about you and your boundaries and right now it seemed like he didn’t care about any of those.
too focused on his own pleasure, not realizing you slowly started to breakdown in front of him, hands to your eyes shaken from how hard he hit them, as more tears fell to stain your cheeks.
“n-no not disgusting..i-i’m...so sorry..sakusa..just missed you.” you muttered no longer feeling the long needed pleasure of his cock, only feeling a painful discomfort in your chest as if your heart was gonna burst out of it at any minute. he was caught off-guard by you calling him by his last name, but that didn’t stop the brutal pace on your sloppy cunt. repositioning his hand to your hips digging his nails in your sides, bound to leave marks to be seen in the morning.
“addressing me by my last name? what you think thats gonna make things better?”he muses, his pace speeding up making you whimper. you’ve just about had enough.
“germs! g-germs! no more, i don’t like this!! y-you’re hurting m-me sakusa... please s-stop..stop.” screaming your safeword, trying to get him off you, you pushed with the little strength in you with your fragile hands. it wasn’t enough but he got the message. blinking a few times to make sure he processed the current situation.
he sighed pulling his cock out watching you with wolf eyes as you softly cried to yourself, turning to your side. he didn’t say anything he just laid down beside you. sneaking an arm around your waist, face buried in your neck. he planted some soft kisses onto it trying to make you relax. if he was being brutally honest, he didn’t know what to do.
you never used your safeword and even if it didn’t show in his face, he was pretty frightened. watching you tense up and shake around him all because of him.
“ y-yoomi..im sorry-”
“don’t be.”
he rubs your hands with his thumb in slow but comforting circles, seeing its still red from being slapped away by him, along with him kissing your cheek to simmer down the sting from earlier. god he felt so bad, but was so scared at the same time, all he wanted to do was hold you close..
..and thats what he did, watching you curl up to his chest. The room was silent for a few minutes that felt like hours gone by. you looked up at him with the look you always gave him. Full of love and adoration even with puffy eyes and hurt in your chest you still loved him.
He looked down noticing the soft smile you gave him as if nothing happened. Titling his head in confusion he asks
“why are you smiling? aren’t you upset..at me?”
you shook your head at him, “no yoomi I’m not mad. My body kinda hurts yes, but I’m glad to have you home...i missed you so much I’m sorry i touched myself without permission...”
he lightly smiles at you kissing your lips softly.
“it’s okay. tomorrow we’ll have the day all to ourselves and we can do whatever you want my love. I’m sorry i was so mean... i was having a bad day and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”
you paused leaning in closer to his chest as you mumbled.
“can we...take a bath together yoomi?”
“oh sure...here i’l carry you.”
needless to say, you forgave him and gave him one last kiss before going to bed.
kenma
word count : 886
kenmas work schedule was god awful since he was practically up to play games and just that leaving you feeling needy and neglected. you hated it.
but tonight you were just, so needy and couldn’t stand this constant neglect.
No matter how many times you touched yourself of grind against something it couldn’t compare to the way kenma would stuff you with his cock.
he wasn’t a super harsh dom leaning towards a mix of soft and mean, but he still prioritized your needs before his. and tonight you were gonna get that version of kenma.
walking towards the couch he was playing his games at slowly, with nothing but his hoodie and knee highs. you bit your lip standing in front of him, fiddling your thumbs out of nervousness. He titled his head to remove you from his line of sight to see the tv screen better making your heart ache just a little, being so used to it already.
taking a deep breath you sat in between on of his thighs wrapping your arms around his neck making him let out a groan of annoyance to your needy antics.
he continued to play his game acting as if you weren’t there and nothing changed. it all came to a halt when he felt you grinding on his thigh, letting out small cries of his name.
“baby.... please” you mumbled facing his disinterested face not even sharing a glance at you as he continued to move his thumbs around his controllers joystick. He didn’t even pay mind to the fact you were borderline naked either.
“five minutes pretty girl.” he muttered still too absorbed in his game. You pouted shifting your legs to be wrapped around him now, wet cunt on top of his crotch rubbing against him lightly. Making him flinch at the sudden friction. giving you hope he’d give you what you want now. you smirked continuing to grind against him making him bite back a grunt.
“ugh what are you doing?” he said clearly annoyed by your antics already.
your face became red while placing your hands on his shoulders slowly starting to grind against his growing bulge. “want your attention kenma please need you so bad.” you begged hoping he’d give you something anything really.
but being kenma, he went back to his video games. your pout returning once more. “but kenma, please i really really need you.” you continued with your antics and he paused his game, putting his controller on the coffee table.
“fine you want me so fucking bad?” he grabs you by the hips making you yelp as he throws you down the couch. back hitting the cushions while he takes your legs and wraps them around his waist.
he pulls down his sweats pumping himself a few times as he rolls his head back, holding back his grunts. he slowly slides his cock into you, being easy to do considering how wet you were already for him.
he groans as he bottoms out inside you starting steady, but slowly picking up the pace to be more..brutal.
“k-kenma..m’ feels good thank you thank you” you rambled out praises making him grab you by the throat to thrust into you faster.
“god you’re so fucking annoying bothering me because you wanted to get your cunt stuffed like a little slut while i fucking work.” he scoffs making your eyes shoot open at him.
“such a fucking annoying little slut.” he continues his degradation thr grip on your throat not loosening. you felt you eyes grow teary as he continued to call you more vulgar names with the sprinkle of him calling you annoying.
“ c-console...” you mumbled wrapping your hands on his wrists, making him let go of your throat. he froze getting closer to your face as he pulls out slowly.
“huh? Whats wrong does it hurt?” he asks rubbing away your tears with the pad of his thumb.
your lip quivered as more tears started to form. “...i-im annoying...?” you looked him in his eyes as more broken sobs leave you.
“I just wanted some attention kenma...you’re always so busy sometimes I don’t even think you remember i exist..” you muttered feeling small under his cat like stare.
he sighed kissing your cheek, falling to your. side feeling his breath hit your neck. “sorry baby i swear i didn’t mean it...you’re not annoying its my fault for not giving you attention.” he admits as you wrap around him.
“y-you promise you didn’t mean it?” you ask once more. he sneaks a hand under your head to lift you up to his chest, patting your head softly.
“ i promise. here why don’t you sit on my lap, we can do that thing you wanted to try last week...” he looks away embarrassed, you tilt your head in confusion but then realize what he was referring to. you nodded joyfully wrapping your arms around his neck, he adjusts himself for you to line up to take him. he slowly puts you back down on his cock. hissing at the returning feeling.
He smiled kissing your forehead lightly as he hugged you tight.
“better my love?”
“mhm mhm!” you said placing your head on his shoulder as you relax into him. slowly drifting away into sleep. its not much, but at-least it stuffs your very needy cunt.
matsukawa
word count : 615
what lead to this? you two were just on a simple date together at a nearby mall shopping together, looking at upcoming movies, stopping by a few manga stores and bakeries to treat yourselves. overall, just enjoying the time shared together.
that is t’ill the two of ran into your ex. issei watching the two of you talk to each other not realizing how uncomfortable you really were, hiding it with a friendly facade of course going unnoticed by him since he was practically death glaring your ex.
he was basically third wheeling in your conversation with your ex. you would side eye issei hoping he’d pull you out of your situation but it was too late since his mind was cloudy with jealousy and rage.
now, leading up to your current predicament. a heavy make-out now leading to a degradation fest.
“aw whats wrong little slut can’t take me, fucking pathetic much?” he teases pounding you at a faster pace. “can’t believe my own fucking girlfriend was just there being all friendly to her ex..what don’t tell me you still want him?” he muses making you rapidly shake your head.
“ no i don’t i swear issei..just wan’ you..”you muttered eyes growing puffy from how cruel he spoke to you as he continued to suggest away of how would get him back since it seemed like you missed him from how friendly you were acting.
growing quiet at his words trying to tune out his words. it’ll all be over soon anyways, you just had to hold on a bit you told yourself. of course you were an idiot for letting him keep going.
“ maybe i should go ask how kimi’s doing act all friendly and nice towards her.” you tuned into what issei had said in horror at what he just said.
kimi, his much prettier ex who t’ill this day wasn’t over him and he knew this. throwing it in your face as he darkly chuckled at you. you removed your arms that were wrapped around his neck pulling him close. and cupped your face in your hands at the thought of your boyfriend going back to his ex. leaving you alone again.
he wouldn’t right? even though she was much prettier in every feature she had compared to you. he wouldn’t right..? right?
“f-funeral...“you sniffled making him stop all his movements and lock eyes with you. your safeword ringing in his ears.
“hey..hey no i didn’t mean it...” he quickly pulls you towards him, pulling you out of him and hugging you tight. he rocks you softly back and forth in his embrace letting all your bottle up feelings burst onto him. he quick to comfort you and pepper a few kisses on your face.
“ issei..” you mumbled against his chest. he rubs your back looking down at you.
“yes baby..?” his voice shaken with worry hoping you weren’t too mad at him.
“ i-i don’t miss him.. i was only being nice..i was uncomfortable talking to him why didn't you..” he internally punches himself for being so blind and not being able to see by all your movements how uncomfortable you were just breathing the same air as your ex.
he was too blinded by his jealousy to realize his poor baby was scared. he mumbled a curse before apologizing.
“i’m sorry baby i didn’t realize he was making you uncomfortable i should've done something..” his eyes wander away from you.
“ i was just jealous..” he admits
“but issei.. you’re all i want.” you say kissing his cheek and he smiles gracefully.
“am i-i all you want sei?”
“ duh pretty baby. everything i want and need.”
matsukawas is so short i’m so sorry ahhhh but i hope u all enjoyed <3
#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu smut#haikyū!!#haikyuu#haikyuu issei#DADDY ISSEI#issei smut#issei matsukawa#matsukawa smut#matsukawa issei#kozume kenma#hq kenma#kenma smut#kenma kozume#kenma kozume smut#sakusa angst#hq sakusa#sakusa kiyoomi#sakusa smut#sakusa kyoomi x reader#kiyoomi sakusa#safeword#haikyuu angst
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until dawn - ljn
part I | part II
⤑ summary: basic number one rule of the museum is not to touch the art. but no one told jeno that falling for one of them isn’t allowed either.
⤑ pairing: jeno x female reader
⤑ word count: 14k
⤑ genre: fluff, humor, angst | broke architecture major!jeno, historical figure!reader, college!au
⤑ warnings: jaemin mentions onlyfans as a joke, references to actual historical figures (some try to flirt with jeno lol) and literature, explicit language
⤑ author’s note: wow, i’ve had this idea for almost two years! this one was inspired by one of my favorite childhood movies, night at the museum. it definitely required a lot of research and brainstorming, and finally i brought it to life! it was so fun to play around with the characters, and even if majority of them are real people, this is all still fiction.
i also wanna mention one of my moots, marge for enlightening me about her life as an architecture major.
⤑ taglist: @renjunniehome (dm me if you want to be added)
⤑ leave me some feedback, constructive criticism or hellos!
Dormitory rent was another thing to worry about aside from the inflated university tuition per semester. Although he’s lucky to have his parents backing him up already on it, paying the monthly rent for his dorm was the remaining objective on Jeno’s list.
Plus, money for food. The man was a heavy eater, following the whole “gym is life” mantra.
Splitting it already with two of his dorm mates turned best friends, Renjun and Jaemin, his plate felt lighter. But the question still lies: where on earth was he going to get the money?
He’s practically checked out every available part-timing job in university and anywhere near campus. Barista at the same café Jaemin works at, teaching assistant for an art school for kids, convenience store cashier, library assistant, all taken in a heartbeat. The burden of his friends paying his debt these past months took a toll on him, almost to the point he almost considered making an Onlyfans.
“Yah, just find something else! Part-timers are in demand right now!” Renjun intensely closed his laptop before his older friend gets any suggestive thoughts.
“I mean, you didn’t work out your body to look the way it is for nothing.” Jaemin pitched otherwise, lifting the front back up. “When do you want to start filming? Loads of chicks would dig a piece of you!”
The contradicting opinions of his friends were like the devil and angel debating on his shoulders. Useless, he gave this worry a rest and returned to drawing new plates. A common thing when you’re an architecture major. Those deadlines were nearing. Looks like he’ll pull another all-nighter again.
Good thing most of his classes were late in the morning until 6 pm.
As if someone from above heard his petition, Jeno saw a help wanted sign posted on the bulletin board outside of the university museum. He initially went there to document some artwork and architecture models from Greek and Roman times, further analyzing how they’re still apparent in modern buildings.
The sign explained the need for one part-timer from any college to cover the night shift of the museum due to the current night guard’s full semester absence. He only had to come in 3x a week, choosing his days since he was still a student. Even the pay was above average, considering that most part-timers never go beyond midnight. Jeno would, on the other hand, always staying for his projects or gaming with the boys. Drinking sometimes during late-night Fridays with his entire college crew.
The pay would leave him a load of extra cash for himself, thus he sent an application to the museum office right before he left. A week later, while he was out with the boys, he got a text from the office that they wanted to meet him again for a final interview first thing on Monday.
Perhaps it was having architecture as his course and a healthy physique that landed him the part-timer position. Mainly, the latter because guards required strong endurance and fighting skills when worse comes to worst. It would start at 9 pm until 6 am the following day, and there was a designated uniform of it too. Blue blazer with matching trousers, white dress top, and loafers.
Aside from the typical museum etiquette the head director instructed him about, there was an unofficial list of tips written on paper given from the night guard on leave when the director handed you over his box of office-related things.
Only read at the night guard office once you’re the remaining staff left.
He did as he was told like an obedient son, flipping the succeeding page.
To my temporary replacement,
This part-timing job is nothing regular than the other jobs. You’ll witness things as you’ve never imagined them to be, almost like witchcraft. You’ll be lost and maybe frightened, or that’s how I felt the first time because no one led me through it all those years ago. Lucky for you, I made this small guide on how to properly take care of the place that the other staff doesn’t know about.
Before you proceed, I request you take a 5-minute stroll around the lobby first to understand what I’m talking about. After such, go back to the office or somewhere quiet then browse through the guide as quickly as you could.
Art is timeless here, so they need to be taken care of.
Good luck!
Park Sanghoon
Night Guard on Leave
Nothing could’ve prepared Jeno for what’s to come once he unlocked the office door. They say that art brings so much color to our life, allowing us to feel all sorts of emotions in a glimpse. But no one ever interpreted art to be literally alive and walking in the halls.
Behold, random wax figures and marble sculptures that he’s seen in the past roamed the hallways, as well as the paintings were interacting with each other side by side. Even the standee of a puppy from the entrance played fetch with one of those sculptures. He swore he looked like Hermes the messenger god from his arrow headpiece and sandals.
It made more sense why the guard on leave explained his feelings during the first day because it resembled Jeno’s. But unlike that guard, Jeno sucked it up. No one ever does well on the first day, even if others say otherwise. The first day was a learning experience, so he collected his thoughts even though the goosebumps triggered his body during that one rotation.
There was an indoor garden, already locked by the day guard earlier. The only room without any art piece, where students lounge to study the plants or relax in nature.
The sculptures section ahead, showcasing various fictional figures specifically from Greek mythology, chattered away about family drama and beliefs. The sculptures of Hades and Zeus, according to their title plate, argued relentlessly about power while Athena always intervened by shouting or even throwing arrows or daggers to any of the lightbulbs there.
That was one rule in the guide, but Jeno didn’t know yet until he came inside the room and swerved the attention of the arguing duo.
“Well, what do we have here?” Zeus, in the center, straightened his posture on his throne to present himself in a more regal way. “Are you perhaps the temporary replacement of Sir Sanghoon?”
“Sir Sanghoon’s stand-in is rather good looking, don’t you think?” Hera mused, stepping down from her throne beside Zeus to take a closer look at the taller male. Her cold fingers trailed his jaw until his chest, where his heart was beating intensely. She even pinched his toned bicep, mouthing wow.
“Truly handsome you are, my dear. So full of life, please introduce yourself to us.”
While Jeno introduced himself to everyone in that room, he answered any sorts of questions they had for him too. From his age, educational background, hobbies, Aphrodite just had to ask him if he had a girlfriend because he was that handsome.
“Nope, I’m single. With my degree in architecture, the requirements are so heavy I can’t even try dating.”
Mentioning his degree excited the gods, telling him how their people created and designed all these temples to house them and perform rituals. They loved it so much. This was a copy-paste of what Jeno learned from his history classes, and for a first, he’s hearing the perspective of the Greek gods.
Mind-boggling that he hasn’t fully freaked out yet. That’s what Athena anticipated when Sanghoon told her about his short leave, putting her in charge of everyone for the meantime while the replacement settled down.
The college museum was built during the late 70s as a gift from one of the alumni. It was for the purpose to preserve history and educate college students outside the classroom. The Greek mythology exhibit was the oldest one, making Athena have more seniority. Over her stay, she’s seen every new guard lose their senses during the first night. Some not even returning for a second night. She got used to every outcome, and so far, only 8 people lasted after the first night. A couple of students in the 70s and 80s, Sanghoon in the 90s, and now Jeno was one of them.
“Jeno, aren’t you terrified by us? You just got a job in a museum that comes to life every night, and it’s not a normal thing.”
“Well, I’m still shaken up about it. But it’s my first night, and it’s when I learn everything about the place from head to toe. Plus, I really need the money.”
“Money for what? But you’re young, a student even!”
“Yes, I am. However, I do pay for the rent in my dorm. So, this job is like my first big responsibility, and I want to perform well.”
Athena commended his sense of authority, capable of leading himself. She noticed how well-spoken and poised he is, respecting and listening to everything the gods and goddesses said even if they were nonsense. She never liked to compromise with her power, taking a while to like Sanghoon back in the day. Though Jeno looked like a natural leader on his first night. If he could take care of himself well, he’s skilled to take care of the rest in the museum as well.
Plus she had full control on the nights he won’t be there, especially the weekend.
With his potential, Athena mentored him the entire night about the gist of the entire museum. Every upcoming leader needs an intelligent mentor, right? She was naturally gifted with worthy leadership skills, managing Jeno like her own child.
Athena explained how the museum came to life, which was through a royal golden plate from the Oriental room. It was a gift from a popular sorceress in China to an affluent family from the Han dynasty, who wished them a long life after she was saved from invaders due to them. The plate preserved over time, becoming an artifact. Its power remained immortal, mutating to bring life wherever it goes. In this case, the museum since its arrival in the late 70s as well.
“That’s why the Oriental room must be locked always so no one could touch or break the plate.”
After she ordered Jeno to lock the mentioned room, alongside the Foreign Art Exhibit Room which he checked out for his class, she led him to the best view of the entire museum. Center of the second floor, where stairs were on both sides. Jeno marveled at the vivacious atmosphere, witnessing actual art living, breathing, and enjoying themselves.
“Unreal, right?” She leaned in the railing, scanning through the chatty paintings.
Jeno also leaned down, deep in thought and wonder. “Absolutely, Athena. How come no one knows about this? Art coming to life? It’ll invite more students to the museum.”
“That goes against a golden rule as a night guard in this museum.” She replied bluntly. “The life that goes on inside this museum at night must remain a secret to the public.”
Jeno predicted this kind of response, having watched too many films where anything supernatural mustn’t be revealed. Although he liked the advantage of knowing something this powerful, he’d never abuse it.
Athena’s intellect was beyond the world, seamlessly reading Jeno’s expression and what he was thinking. He had good intentions even if he’s a bit mischievous. She needed to keep a keen eye on him, but for now, he needed to explore on his own.
“Anyways, Sanghoon still left out some other details. So if you have any questions, I’ll be at my exhibit trying to shut my father and my uncle up again.”
“Can you not use any weapons to do so?”
“Can’t make any promises, Jeno.” She slyly cracked her knuckles and neck as if she was fighting another battle.
Jeno was silently left with himself, finally browsing through Sanghoon’s guide while seated in one of the museum benches.
It consisted of 25 rules, wherein the first two rules consisted of locking up. One, for the doors and gates of the museum, so no art piece could escape. If they do, they will turn into dust when the sun is out according to Athena. Two, locking the Oriental and Foreign Art Rooms, which was already done.
Rule #5: Let Mochi the puppy from the lobby tag along with you; feed him treats if you have any.
On cue, the little guy barked from the corridor and raced to his side. Jeno carried him, babying him for a little and letting him lick his face a few times before putting him back down. He’s surely going to the pet store first thing in the morning with the museum allowance the director gave him.
Since he was on the second floor, he read and followed the rules that fit in before returning downstairs. On the other side of the floor were the wax figures exhibitions: one for prominent men in history while the other for prominent women. Well, more people to get acquainted with.
It’s the exchange of gasps and profanities he received when he chose the latter room. Seeing their faces, these were women he’s learned in school and online. Now in the (fake) flesh. Except for one girl he’s never heard of, unbothered in her corner sketching her life away in a sketchpad. But before he could check who she was, a suggestive touch on his arm distracted him.
“My, oh my, Hera wasn’t lying when she said that the new night guard was a fine specimen.” By her dark blue eyeshadow and eyeliner with the snake-like crown, Cleopatra studied him like he was one of the most renowned art pieces. Even patting his chest, abdomen, and arms with both her hand, Jeno caught a suggestive glint in her eyes and a smirk across her red lips.
Rule #13: Reject Cleopatra’s seductive advances at all costs.
“Goodness, Cleopatra. It’s only his first night, and you’re scaring him.” With her accent, round eyes, and a chic formal outfit, she carried a posh aura while unhesitatingly scolding the Queen of the Nile.
“Come on now, Diana. He’s stunning, who wouldn’t go after him?” If no one knew her, you’re not reading up on your world history. She’s said to have been a lovely and intelligent woman, gone so soon. Jeno definitely understood why after she detached Cleopatra’s raging hands off him.
Rule #14: Treat Princess Diana and Hera like your own parent.
“Your highness.” Jeno nodded at her out of respect, only making her chuckle uncontrollably.
“No need to address me like that, love. Now, come here.” She widened her arms for Jeno, hugging him amiably. He sensed her motherly warmth, accepting such a gesture. “You remind me so much of my youngest son, Harry. Welcome to the night shift of the museum, love.”
Similar to the Greek mythology exhibit, he introduced himself and responded to any questions that the women wax figures may have. Good for him, they weren’t crossing any borders and kept him at ease.
“A student like you working at night to pay rent?” Katherine Johnson, an African-American NASA mathematician whose calculations led to the success of a lot of famous spaceflights, cannot believe her ears. Students must only focus on school, nothing else. “What about your studies, boy?”
Rule #15: Engage in academic discussions with Katherine Johnson whenever you can.
“Most of my classes are in the afternoon, Miss Katherine. So I’ll sleep in the entire morning later and study during my breaks.”
“Mr. Jeno, what do you like to do outside of work?” Anne Frank, a German-Dutch teenager whose revolutionary diary that documented her life in hiding from the Nazis gained popularity worldwide after publication dreamily asked from her section of the exhibit. Her life was robbed of greatness merely because of her religion and war.
Rule #16: Bring delicious food or gifts to Anne Frank.
“Well, I like to bike with my friends, exercise, and draw whatever comes into mind!”
Everyone he’s met so far acquired pleasure in knowing about who he was and his passion for architecture, ridding the “freaking out” phase Athena assumed he had. Yet not everyone in this exhibit bothered to give him a shot.
Jeno’s attention from Anne talking about her crush towards Peter van Daan, a teenage boy who lived with her, switched to the section beside her, where an unacquainted figure was zealously sketching as if something was due to the following day. It reflected how he’d look when he’s cramming one of his plates due to first thing in the morning. While he properly excused himself, he quietly gazed at the way this woman scrunched her eyebrows when she erased something then drew it again. She was someone he’s never seen or heard before, reading the information plate in front of him about her.
(Y/N) (Y/L/N), Explorer and Author. (1854-1900)
Wealthy women in the Victorian Era only served one purpose in society: marry a man from a prestigious family, have his children and join whatever interests they have. However, for (Y/N), she wasn’t going to conform to those standards.
Born into the affluent house of (Y/L/N), she was the youngest of 8 children. She was said to be the kindest and sweetest sibling out of everyone, not capable of hurting anyone or anything. She said it herself that she can’t throw away a dying flower because it’s too painful. While 5 of her older brothers were sent to school, she stayed at home with her 2 older sisters Cecilia and Amelia where she learned how to play the piano and take voice lessons from impressive teachers. Due to the huge age gaps between them (12 and 8 respectively), she never felt close with them. She was only closest to the 6th and 7th siblings, her twin brothers Benjamin and Liam whom she only had a 2-year gap. She was also best friends with one of the scullery maids her age, Lily, because she found her amusing that than the boring rich girls her mother forced to interact with.
The moment it bothered her that she wanted to live a more meaningful life was when Amelia got married. She was 12 years old at the time, and it left her as the last unwed daughter in the family. Badly did she want to revolt, which she gradually did. Instead of practicing piano, she’d sneak in to read every book in her father’s office. She secretly studied the notes of her older brothers from school and even dressed as a boy numerously thanks to Benjamin and Liam to join their classes or field trips.
This was her routine up until the age of 18 when she stomped her foot down and expressed to her parents that she wasn’t going to let Victorian society dictate her. The night before her parents were bound to send her to her great aunt’s home down South to sort her out, she successfully snuck out her house thanks to Lily, Benjamin, and Liam. It’s another good thing that she saved a lot of money for that moment.
Off she went across Europe first, then sailed to America and even parts of Asia. Initially under the name Lilibe, coined from picking the first two letters of her brothers and best friend, she documented her days and nights through her journals and sketches. Over time, she sent them to her brothers for publication. It started the franchise, “The Adventures of the Young and Free Lilibe”. There are 10 books under it.
She learned French, Spanish, Mandarin, Japanese, and Korean by herself as she made friends from those places. It was rare of someone like her to be fluent in Oriental languages, surprising locals every time she spoke to them. She was the only explorer to vividly describe life in different Asian lands in English, talking about their history and culture. With her accurate drawings of diverse citizens and their daily lives, it educated a lot of those living back home in Europe about them rather than speaking lowly of them.
In Seoul did she stayed the longest until her death from pneumonia at the young age of 46.
In her posthumous work, Finding Me, did she reveal her real identity, dedicating it to her parents whom she apologized and expressed her love for them despite everything that occurred between them. She talked about the last years of her life in Seoul, how locals were so nice and inviting to her, and how she adopted kids instead of having her own through the years.
“It’s not because I never found love in men. It’s more like I found love in doing things I’m passionate about. Traveling, learning new cultures, it outweighed the human need of romance.”
Due to her thrill in taking risks and embarking on wondrous adventures, it brought inspiration to a lot of young girls pressured to marry at that time to pursue what they really want.
A remarkable background you had, Jeno contemplated. How come no one discussed her in his classes?
You kept brushing the bangs of your hair back as it fell repeatedly. But you got irritated instantly because it sabotaged your drive, you brought out a hairpin from her desk and attached it on both sides. But when you shifted your angle of focus, the corner of your eye locked with Jeno’s attentive gaze.
He didn’t flinch, even he should’ve. He wasn’t one to linger his look on anyone’s physical appearances, but your story and the passion on your face as you sketched mesmerized him. He was charmed, to say the least.
“Uhm, hello there?” You broke the silence due to your uneasiness about it. What’s his deal?
Jeno bowed, reintroducing himself to you. As soon as his presence settled in the room when Cleopatra attempted to hit on him, you could’ve cared less. Though this man was a first for you, a first in a long time as all guards would feel intimidated by you during the first night. Even your sharp tongue didn’t faze him. “Staring is rude, sir. Didn’t your mother teach you manners?”
“She did,” He wandered through the exterior of your section, by the fence that separated you and him. Not breaking eye contact, his eyes turned into moon crescents as he smirked with trouble. “Though she also told me to appreciate the art too.”
Snorts noisily exhaled from Cleopatra, who took the center section of the exhibit, succeeded by Princess Diana’s whispered gasps and Katherine’s side-eyeing Anne beside her while she taught her math. That was an odd way a guard conversed with you, but Jeno was merely doing what the rules stated. Partly, he was impressed with his cheesy pick-up line, partly embarrassed because he’s never spoken like this to anyone.
Rule #17: Act playfully around (Y/N) (Y/L/N) to break the tension; she’s a harsh one.
There was irony between the information he read about your life versus the wax model. Even when you faced sexism and ran away according to your history, never were you impolite to anyone in your life. You couldn’t even kill a lurking fly when it roams around your food! It showed Jeno a possibility that as much as you’re just a wax version of someone famous in the past, maybe the external environment around you had a heavy influence too.
“You fool!” His confidence exasperated you, urging you to persistently throw balls of paper with your failed sketches at him. No one dared to talk to you like that, most especially a night guard. “Take that for your comment!”
If you thought he’d scram away and act repentant, you were proven wrong. His reflexes were parallel to a spider, capturing every single paper ball without fail. Up and down his body went, one arm held on to them and no more were left on your part. Never a single defeat during the first meeting in years, but that seemed to alter now.
“Give up already, Ms. (Y/L/N)?” Jeno remarked vibrantly as he discarded your mess in the trash bin behind him. If he managed to get everyone to like him tonight, he wanted to make sure to have you onboard too.
Whatever agenda he had, you weren’t up for it. You’d treat him the same way you usually treated Sanghoon for the past 20 something years: cold and ignorant. From your stool, you left your comfortable position to come face to face with this man. He better be grateful for that barrier in between you, or else you would’ve caused mayhem.
“Never in your wildest dreams, Mr. Lee.” Your mouth gave a half-smile, clenching on the bars to liberate your annoyance. Before you could fend back, that’s when Princess Diana intervened between your heated dialogue.
“Oh heavens, children!” She stood by the barrier, mostly to protect the newbie Jeno with her body. “(Y/N), he just wanted to know you. Must you be so cross?”
This Princess Diana embodied all the traits the real one had: soft-spoken, intelligent, and protective. She’s gotten so used to your gradual temper, staying on standby whenever anyone tried to mess with you. Even if it was harmless, you could get so mean!
“Diana, he was mocking me! Saying such a sleazy phrase as if to amuse me, ha! Not a chance, I hate people like that.”
“Not us women though; you just despise men in general.”
“And you’re absolutely right!” With a smug smile, you greedily rejoiced. “Anyways, escort this disgrace out. I’m not in the mood to get angry when I have a lot of inspiration on mind right now.”
While you resumed your sketching to let go of that extra steam, Jeno was left with Diana who apologized on your behalf. Your pride was too high to do that, and as the motherly figure among them, she always took care of things in your exhibit.
“I’m so sorry for that, Jeno. She’s not really like this, but I know how much you tried your best. It was quite a fresh spectacle honestly.”
Whatever was responsible for your abrasiveness, Jeno yearned to know. He couldn’t understand who you were yet even knowing your life story. All he wanted was to get along with everyone. It was the key to successfully maintain his job for the next 6 months.
“How can I make her come around then?”
A demanding question that no one had a solid answer to. Diana recalled how much Sanghoon didn’t let your dislike for him get to him, maintaining a respectful boundary in between each other after his past attempts. Though with Jeno, observing how he riled you up and your focus entirely on him, she hasn’t seen anything like it since the 80s.
There was something in Jeno that may just get you to warm up and return to your kind nature.
“Aside from acting playful, as Sanghoon recommended, I can think of two ways, love.” By the doors of her exhibit, where Jeno was already waltzing the corridor to visit other rooms, she suggested smartly. “One, argue back to her opinions. She hates whenever anyone tries to get her way, but boy, you’re just as wise as her. No one was brave enough to peeve on her until you came.”
“How about the second way?”
“Do your research, love. Aside from libraries, you have those small technology devices that allow you to search up anything.” She tousled Jeno’s brown locks as if it were her actual son’s. Some habits just don’t die when you do.
“Brush up on your history, Jeno. Not only will it help you with (Y/N), but it’ll serve purposefully with the other art pieces here.”
Boy, he was ready to crash in his bed for a few hours after all those interactions. His introverted nature required to be revitalized.
Towards the last hours of his shift, the art pieces who’ve strolled in the first floor lessened his plate by not leaving any major clutter behind. As if she listened to him, Athena didn’t break any lightbulbs too.
His main highlight would be meeting the men of the historical male section, who flaunted a more humorous ambiance. Freddie Mercury from Queen insisted he drink a glass of his wine and to bring more wine next time, which he denied since it would against Sanghoon’s rules. King Sejong the Great and Martin Luther King Jr. argued back and forth over the most random things (pineapple on pizza specifically), while Steve Jobs mediated whenever one crossed the line. Meanwhile, William Shakespeare was too preoccupied in his writing and speaking to himself about his books, wondering how to improve them.
During one of his breaks today, he multitasked drawing a new plate with his research on every art piece to know them better. He started with the exhibit of sculptures of the Greek gods and goddesses, which were Zeus, Hera, Hades, Athena, Hermes, Aphrodite, Poseidon, Artemis, Dionysus, and Circe. They weren’t the complete roster because the rest were in other museums across the globe, as said by Athena before sunrise. The majority of them he knew what they were in charge of, but the rest were foggy to his knowledge. Typing away and jotting notes down, he started downloading his favorite jazz songs too.
Rule # 4: Play jazz music to the paintings on the first floor so they can relax and dance within their frames.
Circe is a minor goddess, the daughter of the sun god Helios. She’s recognized for her versatility in incantations and herbs, capable of transforming people into animals. From Jeno’s perspective, she’s mostly within her space with her journals and magic wand, trying new spells or combinations of herbs. For the latter, he had to keep a closer eye on.
Rule #9: Don’t let Circe, god of potions, into the Oriental Room to get plants and herbs.
He discovered that Dionysus is the god of wine, happiness, and theatre. That’s why every god in the exhibit had full wine glasses during their gathering. It also added up why Freddie Mercury always comes to him when his bottles run empty, though he mustn’t go overboard.
Rule #18: Make sure Freddie Mercury doesn’t get too drunk from the wine of Dionysus; he might make numerous scenes if he does.
After his lone studying session, he took a short trip to the pet and convenience stores to buy food. He got a dumbfounded look from Jaemin back in the dorm room, who was studying for one of his quizzes in Biology in a couple of hours.
“Woah what’s with this stash? Is it for yourself or something?”
“The museum surprisingly has a lot of tasks needed to be done at night. And no, not from my wallet but the allowance they gave me before you get a heart attack.” Jeno plopped on his solo bed, covering his face with a pillow.
“Thank God.” A relaxed sigh escaped Jaemin’s lips, taking back his balled-up fists meant for his roommate. “I think I would’ve stormed that boring museum if they made your broke ass spend a cent.”
“Boring?” Jeno removed the cushion hastily, eyeing his busy and coffee-high roommate. The scent of black coffee from his mug spread in the room, assuming that this upcoming test was testing his roommate’s patience again.
Not even trying to look at Jeno while reviewing his handwritten notes, Jaemin continued giving his opinion. “Museum culture is dead, Jeno. Not everyone has the time to roam around one, plus people can always look up the artifacts online these days.”
People were entitled to their own opinions on numerous things, though Jeno begged to differ with his roommate’s. Especially after witnessing the magic of the night shift, you shouldn’t merely judge a book by its cover. In this case, you shouldn’t judge an artwork or art piece merely on its history and legacy.
Maybe because his roommate was in the science department, he thought this way. A lot of art students regularly visit the museum both for fun and for their classes, and Jeno was one of them. Though he was too sleepy to explain his side, he let it slide for now and snoozed throughout the late afternoon.
An hour before the start of his shift, Jeno promenaded the emptying museum to inspect anything else he might’ve missed out on from last night. There were two areas according to his rotation, both in the first floor.
One was the Diorama Room. Divided into 4 sections, highlighting some of the well-known ancient civilizations in world history. Ancient Egypt and Ancient China to your left, Ancient Rome and Ancient Maya to your right. They acted as if they were the actual people during those times, giving Jeno a laugh when they cracked jokes in between. Such tiny figures, yet the rule for them said otherwise.
Rule # 7: The small figurines in the Diorama Room are feisty, so make sure they don’t fight with one another again.
The remaining room left was the Theater Room. He’s never been here, though his art friends have for film festivals held by the university.
The interior of it was set to look like an actual cinema place you’d see in a mall. There was a mini lobby with a few posters of iconic films over the years. Singin’ in the Rain, Back to the Future, Titanic, those were some framed and hung on the wall. There were two other doors there: one leading to the chairs and the other where the movie projector was. The latter room was pretty riveting, wherein you can choose to watch old short films through an 88mm film projector or switch to a cd player for the newer releases.
Back to those posters, they weren’t an exception to the magic and a simple rule was left for Jeno to do.
Rule # 10: Chatter with the movie posters in the lobby of the Theater Room; they love meeting new faces.
Since there wasn’t anyone checking out the Art Rooms on the second floor, he closed them. Though as he was about to lock the Oriental Room, the ravishing plants around the royal plant appealed his interest. Said to hold magical properties from his research, Jeno was reminded of another rule to keep in mind for later.
Rule # 3: The fake flowers in the Oriental Room come to life too at night, so when no one is lurking, water it diligently.
Instead of lounging at Sanghoon’s office first, he brought his important items to the front desk of the lobby and continued sketching his plate. He wanted to watch the art come back alive with his two eyes. Usually, he’d have coffee when he does his work, but due to another crucial rule in the guide, he’d rather not take the risk.
Rule # 6: The lobby room can get rowdy, so keep any drinks away from important items.
On the dot, the cries and yawns from the art pieces around him reverberated. Closing his sketchpad, his night guard mode was on. Connecting his laptop on the aux cord of the museum speakers, he tapped play on his playlist of jazz music that’ll last for the entire shift duration. As the first notes flooded the entire vicinity, sounds of joy left the lips of each painting. Some were humming, dancing, and even singing along.
“You can never go wrong with Frank Sinatra!”
“This Jeno lad really did the heavens’ work quick!”
Having the sense of accomplishment on his sleeve, the small barks of his fluffy pal reached closer to him. As he kneeled to find him, he was only taken by surprise as Mochi excitedly jumped on him. Tumbling over, Jeno chuckled innocently as Mochi licked his face numerously. This puppy was friendly, easily liking everyone at first sight. He wasn’t as choosy like Daegal, the puppy of his friend Chenle studying Business Management.
Once he composed himself and cradling the dog like his own, he fed him a dog treat from the desk.
“Good boy, Mochi!” He rubbed his fur while the puppy happily munched on it, ready to fulfill more of his duties.
He skipped the Greek mythology exhibit since Athena was doing a good job not letting anyone go overboard with their powers, though he’ll check in again in a few hours. He met the posters of the theater room, who were celebrities he grew up watching on tv. Sanghoon was right; they were the kinder group in the entire museum because they were more laidback.
On to the second floor, all the female wax figures lounged by the male section due to another lecture from Shakespeare. Although the guide informed him that most of the time it could get boring, this lecture was more stimulating. On his platform, he elaborated with conviction the lines of one of his famous books, Romeo and Juliet. A must-read book back in his high school days, there’s no way Jeno could’ve missed that out.
From the looks of it, Jeno perceived that Shakespeare was performing spoken word poetry due to him reading only Romeo’s lines while Cleopatra read Juliet’s beside him. This kind of show was one of the sources of entertainment to these figures, so Jeno leaned by the side of the door to listen. After all, the famous author of it was a few feet away. Cleopatra channeled such a naïve character to her ability, absentmindedly saying as she clutched her chest.
“O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name; Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet.”
“Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?”
“'Tis but thy name that is my enemy; Thou art thyself, though not a Montague. What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor face, nor any other part belonging to a man. O, be some other name! What's in a name? That which we call a rose-”
The flow of an engaged Cleopatra was abrupted by the loud yell from Shakespeare in front, specifically to an amused Jeno. “Jeno, my boy! Welcome back!”
Such an announcement diverted everyone’s attention to the back, some running to Jeno to give their respective greetings. It’s rare for everyone to feel at ease with a new guard, taking them weeks to approach them due to the intimidation. Though Jeno’s bright presence felt welcoming, so they accepted it. Perhaps it’s because of his youth, it reminded them of theirs too.
Shakespeare highly requested (or forced) Jeno to take his part as Romeo, intrigued to watch someone younger read his lines. Since most of the male wax figures were aged, it never satisfied Shakespeare so he jumped on this opportunity as quickly as he could. With the roaring cheers from the other figures, Jeno might as well give it a try. It wasn’t like his friends were here to clown him like they usually would if he did something humiliating.
Jeno shockingly liked this activity as he wasn’t much of a performer on stage, but someone who does the behind-the-scenes of it. He realized as he read the lines from the book Shakespeare asked him to follow along with why people held university-wide spoken word shows a few times per semester. He was no actor, but it’s delightful to have tried it at least once in his life.
“O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?” As if the edge of the platform was the balcony of Juliet (or Cleopatra rather), he knelt as he ardently spoke his lines. He’s emphasizing this rush of uncontrollable desire for her, rambling whatever he would do to get the girl.
“What satisfaction canst thou have tonight?” Cleopatra questioned from her chair, inching closer to the young boy. Even outside character will she attempt to charm Jeno, but Jeno was quick to catch it and kept his distance.
“The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine.”
“I gave thee mine before thou didst request it, and yet I would it were to give again.”
“Wouldst thou withdraw it? For what purpose, love?”
“But to be frank, and give it thee again. And yet I wish but for the thing I have. My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep. The more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite.”
Everyone was condensed by their top-notch acting, as if this was the actual play unfolding before them. Jeno wasn’t so sure how he got himself in character without preparation, yet he felt what his character felt. He comprehended the material a lot better now than when he was still in high school.
However, there was always that one killjoy to ruin the heartfelt mood.
“How dumb is it to say that you’re in love after the first glance?” You opposed, putting the spotlight on you. This book was said to be a classic in literature, but as you matured physically and mentally, you could no longer agree with it. “Isn’t love the same thing that killed Romeo and Juliet in the end?”
Remembering what Princess Diana told him, he wasn’t going to let this pass. He wanted to give a piece of his mind too, caring less if the show must be paused. “Love is an emotion we don’t ask to feel. It’ll come to us when we least expect it, even when the timing of it can be crucial.”
“Of all the people Juliet could’ve gone for, it just had to be the enemy.” In all the years you’ve been brought to life, no one dared to test your opinions because they were aware of your intelligence, from the streets to the books. When someone bark, you’d bite back. Hard. “With all due respect, I love your works, Shakespeare. Yet the fate you’ve given these two at a young age was grave, could’ve you given them a better outcome or another character to love instead?”
“Giving them extra characters to love won’t address the horrific life fact that love can be dangerous. Regardless of what status you’re in, you can’t stop the attraction towards someone. The heart wants what it wants.” Jeno pressed his hand to his chest, pumping it a bit. Unknown to you and him, the audience found more entertainment in your argument. Anne, who was munching on the popcorn Jeno gave her earlier, passed the snack to Katherine who just couldn’t stop watching.
If this man wanted a challenge, you’re all ears. Who was he to compete with you? Was he not intelligent to know who you are?
“So are you insinuating that we just go with the flow? Be a slave to our emotions too and let them dictate our next motives?”
“Slave is such a strong word to use, (Y/N). But it’s not like we can’t choose who want to love because we actually can. In this case, Romeo chose Juliet and vice versa.”
“But what happens if the person you choose doesn’t choose you in return?”
“At least you tried your best, right? It’ll hurt like hell though, but it won’t last forever.” From his kneeling position, Jeno strutted his way with confidence. Trying not to let it mess with you, your extreme stare at him as if they’ll shoot lasers. Inches away from you, Jeno declared. “Love always has risks, that’s a given. Romeo and Juliet still tried and followed their hearts despite the downfall. But it was a needed downfall to get the message across.”
“No one would be that foolish to risk their lives for love though, right? Life is so precious, why would they do such a thing?”
“Even if they knew what their lives were without each other, they still preferred living a life where they were both in the picture. Therefore, they tried all they could that time because the regret of not doing anything at all carries a heavier burden.”
Whenever anyone argued with you, their debating points they spat back would further piss you off because most of the time, it never made sense. Back when this rude man told you to go home and be a wife in your earlier years of exploring, you civilly told him to fuck off, kicking his balls because he cornered you in an alley. For the first time, a man who tried to challenge you actually made sense. Was it because he lived in a modern time, where minds were more open? Because of the amount of sexism you faced in the past, you’ve turned a blind eye to the current period.
But your high pride maintained, not submitting into anything he said. “I still think it’s stupid to risk your life for love. There’s no such thing as having only one true love anyways, and you have to be alive to see it.”
“Fair point, but again, the feeling of regret and carrying it your entire life doesn’t fade easily. It’ll make you reflect on the what-ifs, and it’s heart-wrenching.” Jeno digressed, walking around you in circles. He’s intentionally trying to drive you mad, but he could care less. He wanted someone to put you in your place and open your mindset. “The question stands: would you rather try and go for it even knowing its risks or regret not even trying for the rest of your existence? Quite ironic for me to ask you that, don’t you think?”
Past the information board, Jeno researched more of your life history online. Your whole life was grounded on risks, from breaking the standards of your society, leaving your family and home country, to fending yourself from disrespectful men. Rather than living the original life expected from you, you chose not to because it didn’t make you happy. Such a risktaker he knew you are, but with the topic of love, he wondered why you were on a fence with it. Though some records stated you’ve had rendezvouses with a few men in your journeys, love was never in the equation. The single life was what you chose and you were more than satisfied, plus your adopted kids filled that supposed void anyways.
This man may have studied your history, but so much he still doesn’t know. Information that never made the books because you chose not to write or tell anyone about it. Aside from the discomfort growing in your chest, everyone else felt the awkward tension when you were lost for words.
Never been defeated in an argument, until tonight. Your mind lost its drive and willpower.
“Touché, Lee Jeno.” Indeed, his name you’re acquainted with. Numerously passed around in your exhibit, mostly from the lips of Cleopatra, who’d fantasize all the graphic things she would do to him. Too much information, least of your interest. “Please excuse me. I’d like to work on my sketches to ease my mind.”
As you quietly exited the room, an all too familiar sculpture leaned against the railings overseeing one side of the museum. Just like you, she hated accepting defeat or compromises. She always rooted for you to win. With a faint chuckle, “Facing a loss for the first time, I see.”
“Don’t even lecture me about it, Athena. I’m still fired up, and I need to relax.”
“Jeno is a different breed, isn’t he?” She stuck to your side, strolling wherever your feet led you.
“Different as in he’s a man? Yes. What else is there to it?”
“Men these days aren’t as trashy as those back in the day though. Shouldn’t you give him a chance?”
“Last time I did, it destroyed my heart. I’m not allowing myself to let men in even as a friend, Athena.”
She knew exactly what you were referring to, not touching on it further. No way will you let heartbreak or disappointment from men bother you. Even Sanghoon’s sweet company took a while to tolerate. You really needed to sketch this out on your pad right now, excusing yourself from Athena’s presence. Isolation wasn’t new to you; it’s what’s protecting your entire being. Immortal as you are, you had to recover from the past pain so the next decades won’t feel as brash.
You hoped to return to your old self when you were a fresh new figure in the 70s. So naïve, only proud of your accomplishments, and purely happy.
While Jeno continued to finish his scene in respect to Shakespeare, he received a standing ovation for his mini-show. Cleopatra didn’t expect such talent from him, growing fonder of the younger male. Whether she seduces him or not, he was never afraid to try new things and she liked that about him.
“Bravo, love!” Princess Diana praised, clapping at him.
Although Jeno appreciated all this positive attention, his thoughts bounced back to your and your stance on love. The debate earlier was just out of being playful, interested to hear your opinions. Though, he’s worried that he might’ve offended you. It may have been time to finally witness something like that, but then again, he was sure he touched something personal to you. No matter how you tried to fight it off, your eyes can’t lie. Staring down at him, there was pain beneath it. Your eyebrows scrunched to the center, thinking deeply yet remained utterly speechless.
A win he didn’t feel good about.
“It’s time she encountered something new in the years she’s been here. Give her some space tonight, then try again to reach out to her. Kindly this time; I’m not in the mood for another brawl that could end up like the Greek gods’ past fights downstairs.”
These clever words shared by Katherine loitered his mind for the rest of the night, eventually going back to finishing his current plate since everyone was behaving well. As great it is to get the approval of the majority, he tried brainstorming ways to make you like him too.
He understood the whole “men are trash” concept in today’s modern society, but if he could prove it wrong to at least one person, it would be you. Whatever is holding you back, he only hoped that you’d let it go. Questionably unsure as to why he was so persevering, he concluded that it was so he could perform his job better as the night guard. Set higher standards than Sanghoon even.
Nothing more, nothing less.
Weeks passed, and his attempts continued to be unsuccessful.
The capability for you to ignore his efforts remained strong, whether he was pestering you over small things or debating with you again about anything. Life, books, morals, the two of you always head butt each other. Anything good he did, you searched for a flaw in it. Whatever acts he’s tried and continued trying, not one flinch from you ever.
Even if that’s his state with you, his job no longer felt stressful nor strenuous. He’d try to sleep more on days he was off-duty. Although the fatigue of staying beyond his usual sleeping time was inevitable, he compromised to take a nap lasting an hour or two when the art pieces weren’t acting frisky.
Plus, there have been multiple times they adapted to any alterations so his physical well-being wouldn’t fall sick. Per order of Princess Diana and Hera, who by instinct became his motherly figures here, only wanting what’s best for the kids.
He became accustomed to everything that went on at night, discovering things on his own without Sanghoon’s guide. Anne talked about how much she missed biking in her neighborhood, so one night, Jeno snuck his bike inside and let her use it around the first floor. With proper monitoring so none of the paintings would be unbothered or pieces wouldn’t tumble.
Hermes the messenger god was fluent in every language possible, so every so often, Jeno would freely speak to him in Korean because sometimes he felt he could explode by the amount of English he used every night. Bilingual things, you know. He knew you were multilingual too, but for obvious reasons, he couldn’t converse with you.
Because Jeno was heavily favored, that should’ve been enough to push through his night shifts before the end of the semester. In addition to that, the hourly rate was above the average of whatever Jaemin or Renjun was earning. For the past 2 months, Jeno paid upfront first, even paying back all his debts. It almost made Renjun want to switch jobs with him.
“Trust me, Renjun. You don’t want it, being the lowkey scaredy cat you are.”
Work no longer felt like work, and that’s what everyone aspired to feel. Nevertheless, he tended to worry over you mid-shift, glancing at you from his side view. Sketching, reading, and writing were your default actions. No matter how many times he said to himself not to let your dislike for him affect him, it’d always backfire.
Why were you so cold?
What made you lose your fire from all the research he did about your lively personality?
When morning arrived and he gathered his stuff, you’d be the last thing he’ll check on. Frozen in your standing pose, smiling as you held a book and a pencil, he detected how fake it was. Bystanders would only assume your happiness was from your achievements, though Jeno’s gut firmly pried that something grand overpowered that happiness. And definitely, not in a good way.
Out of all the art pieces, he investigated on you the most. Skimming through every material in the library, endless searching on the net, even asking professors from the History department thanks to Renjun, he did whatever he could. People may already think he was obsessed with who you are, but only little did they know.
Another plate was done and submitted, and he promised himself to look you up one last time before surrendering. For someone who’s rarely given up on a challenge, this one was really out of his control. Maybe he should follow Sanghoon’s footsteps now.
You lived centuries before him, and there’s limited material of you left. Rather than learning of your adventures again, he dug through what things you liked over your life. Maybe by giving one of them, it’ll lessen the tension from a 100 to 99. Maybe you preferred gifts over words, he’ll never know until he tried.
Boom.
According to one of your journal entries, there’s a fond liking you’ve acquired for lavender roses from Benjamin and Liam when they visited you in Paris in secret because of how much you missed them. It went both ways, praying your family ties could be recovered.
It’s a good thing he needed to refill his stock of items for the art pieces so he could pass by the flower store a few blocks away from his dorm. That night, without further words, he graciously offered you a fresh lavender rose in between your new sketching session.
“I may not know exactly why you’re spiritless around me, but with this rose, I hope we could work something out.”
Your frigid face of disdain, keeping your chin high and squinting your eyes with judgment, began to crumble down. Of all things as a peace offering, he gave you that? Then again, it’s not like he knew that an item you liked so much became something you’ve grown to hate and why so. No history books could teach him that.
Vulnerability was a normal thing, yet feared by many. Once one uncovered your weak spot, they could harm you. You still couldn’t trust Jeno fully, not willing to show your helplessness nor were you ever going to tell him. Hidden from his knowledge, everyone else including Sanghoon were familiarized as to why this kind of flower tormented you.
You sprinted like thunder out the exhibit room to wherever it’s private to control your senses. You may not have a physical heart, but your emotions were just as actual as a human’s. You needed to regulate your panting breath. In the past decades, you’ve not shed a singular tear but the cycle broke when they streamed out your miserable eyes like a flowing river. Quiet sobs, an empty corner near the fire exit was where your wobbly legs faltered, the painful memories of the past replayed in your head. Once beautiful, but now an agonizing reminder of what could’ve been.
Katherine, Cleopatra, and Anne were swift on their feet to hunt you down, anxious of what you may do next. Seeing or the mention of these flowers still affected you despairingly. Sanghoon must’ve forgotten to write them down, or perhaps he didn’t know either about this fact during all the years he’s worked there.
It’s one of the biggest secrets of his museum. By the clueless face Jeno had with his eyebrows raised, mouth, and small eyes slightly open, he repeatedly asked what he did wrong and adding that he never meant to harm you. Indeed, they knew that yet what occurred involved a secret in the list of museum secrets. Confidential only between art pieces according to Athena, none of the male wax figures spoke a word, only pitying the boy.
“I wasn’t here yet that time, but they said that it was once beautiful, but now it’s a rough period.” With hesitation, Princess Diana chose to reveal it to rid Jeno’s misery. She didn’t mind having to argue about it with Athena later on, as this may further affect the two of you later on.
“A long time ago in the early ‘80s, there was a night guard around your age named Junmyeon. Also, a college student, trying to make ends meet. He did it for 3 years until he graduated. Though within his stay, not only was he such a delight to everyone, he broke a golden rule in the guide. I believe you do know the guide much more now, Jeno?”
“Yes, I do, Princess Diana. Memorized it even, but which one specifically?” Jeno’s desperate eyes pleaded, only hoping for the best and to fix what he messed up.
“You can form friendships with the art pieces, but nothing more.” Princess Diana replied bitterly. “Junmyeon was an aspiring painter, a different path from his business-oriented family. He was seen as the black sheep. She resonated with him, sharing the burden and lifting it by doing whatever fun they could in the museum. In time, they both fell in love with each other; they were each other’s first loves.”
“Why must something beautiful like love be broken? It’s not like you can control it. That golden rule makes no sense.”
“It does, unfortunately. Wax figures like me cannot age, while humans like you can. None of them could accept the reality, always pushing it away. Until Junmyeon’s last week in university, he broke it off with her unexpectedly. From there, (Y/N) was heartbroken for decades. With heartbreak, giving the cold shoulder and bitterness followed. Then with the lavender rose you gave that she used to love became a flower that she associated with Junmyeon too because he gave her one almost every night for those past 3 years.”
Things finally added up, and the guilt in Jeno’s gut expanded. His major lightbulb moment was a major failure.
“Has Junmyeon ever returned to try and win her back?”
“Well, there was one time he did come back for an art exhibition for his paintings in the 2000s. I was already here, then he had a woman around his shoulder with an adolescent boy holding his hand. He roamed around our exhibit and kept gawking at (Y/N). We may be asleep, but we remember the conversations exchanged in the room. So, his son then asked him if he knew who she was.”
“What did he respond?” Jeno attentively listened, on the edge of such a hurtful tale.
“He knew her name, praising her for historical achievements. However, nothing as a former friend or lover. From what I predict, he ingested one of Circe’s potions.”
“But I thought Circe isn’t allowed to make potions for actual consumption. She’s not even allowed to enter the Oriental Art Room.” Jeno pointed out, overwhelmed at the puzzling past. Princess Diana was mindful that she had to stop spreading too much information, so she had to end her discussion with the lost boy.
“There are a lot of secrets about this museum, Jeno. Unfortunately, I cannot reveal to you to protect our peace.”
With due respect, Jeno quit his follow-up questions and concerns. The only thing he wished to do was mend his relationship with you. As vague as to where you even stood in the first place, he unintentionally crossed a line due to his selfish intention to befriend you.
“What can I do now, Princess Diana? You know I’d never push her buttons like that, even if I’m a whimsical person.”
“Oh, my boy.” Princess Diana soothed, holding both her hand on his sweaty palm and cupping his cheek. “For the meantime, give her space. No taunting for a while, and just observe her from a distance. Though do not fret the slightest; I’m sure she’ll be okay again.”
During that interval, you were hunched on the wall, bawling and weeping like the wound was brand new again. While Katherine and Anne stood by your side, on the lookout for anyone who’d be spying on you, Cleopatra knelt in front of you as your infinite tears gushed down.
“My dear,” She tried to wipe some of them while holding your hand. “It’s been years, and Jeno didn’t know a single thing. He didn’t mean to do it.”
“I don’t care, Cleopatra! He should’ve stopped trying to socialize with me because I won’t ever live down my experience with Junmyeon.”
“As if crying like this will bring Junmyeon back to your life,” Cleopatra exclaimed, holding in her temper. Acquainted with heartbreak, it’s awful that it changed you entirely, but you should’ve found a way to heal. Throughout your attitude change, it’s mostly you in pain, not those you inflict it to. “My dear, I love you a lot. But this Jeno boy is different, and you know it.”
“He’s still a nightguard, for Christ’s sake, Cleopatra.”
“You shouldn’t generalize that all night guards are bad just because of one encounter that occurred at the wrong time.” Brushing some strands stuck by your wet visage, she professed to you bluntly. “You’re never going to know how good Jeno is unless you slowly open up again, (Y/N). Not forcing you the slightest, but healing started once you’ve acknowledged the past and move on from it.”
“But I’m scared, Cleopatra.” You restlessly admitted, hunching even more against the wall. Your poor, metaphorical heart could only take so much. You barely expressed sorrow towards others as you always held a strong exterior, only letting it out alone. Not holding back anymore, Cleopatra brought you in for a hug. The last time she did that was the first night after Junmyeon left, calming your intensified emotions so you wouldn’t do anything dumb that night. No violence, just pure sorrow.
“My dear, it’s alright.” She whispered while stroking your back upwards. “But you’re a risktaker; that’s how people remember you. Now, you must challenge yourself to move on from things that didn’t work out. Because once you do, it’ll put your heart and mind at ease.”
“Do you think I’ll be okay again?”
“Yes, you will be, my dear. You are not alone, and never will be.”
Acting like the dutiful son he always was, Jeno distanced from you.
He still cracked jokes, chatted with the art pieces, and followed the rules, yet never did he utter anything to you. You’ve proudly anticipated it since day one, not wanting him up in your business or teasing you ever. But this time, it felt odd.
On nights he didn’t report, you’ve unconsciously wondered what he may have been up to. A job like this at his age was just as Sanghoon once said: nothing in the regular.
Was he with his friends?
Was he resting well?
From the moment you chose to let go of your limitations and old thoughts, it included your grudge against past guards. Asking for forgiveness to Sanghoon when he returns was on the top of your list, however, that’ll take a while to happen. In the start, you’re baffled as to why he no longer picked on you like every night he’s been present. Somehow, it became a habit you’ve gotten used to, having so many comebacks planned to fend yourself. But you didn’t want to concede to it, maintaining what was left of your pride since that breakdown.
While on the subject, you suspected if anyone told him anything that night because that also indicated the last time he reached out to you. By anything, it would be your unwritten past with Junmyeon. A part of yourself in the museum that you didn’t want to disperse like rapid-fire again. It would be the last thing you wanted Jeno to know.
To your misfortune, Princess Diana came clean due to your growing concern over it. Although your attitude changed and people got used to it, you could only blame yourself that you were responsible for Jeno’s change.
“All he wanted was to understand and enlighten us with his likable presence. Then with you, you were his challenge because of your high walls. Out of everyone, he tried to learn everything about you. From my observation, whenever he has a goal, he’s determined to achieve it.”
“But I’m trying to be better now, Diana. Why did he stop?”
“He may have determination, but he knows where the boundaries lie.” Princess Diana patted the side of your arm, giving you a half-grin. “It hurt him when he hurt you, even if it was accidental. So he opted to give you space; that way, you could catch a breather and he wouldn’t harm you anymore. It was what you wanted from the start anyways, right?”
A hard pill to swallow, though it was a fact. It’s just that now, you’re slowly willing to release yourself from the dark. It’s been decades, and more to come. Nothing can move on unless you do.
“Where is he, Princess Diana?”
Just as she predicted right on the edge, Diana completed the grin on her face and led you to the entrance of your exhibit. She may be younger than you, but you’re reverted in your twenties while she remained in her mid-thirties. Gaping the wide museum from the railing, starting from the painting exhibit in the lobby to across the other side of the museum, Diana spotted the black hair of the boy in the Foreign Art Room.
“Over there.”
Observing where her eyes focused, you caught a glimpse of a recognizable side profile. The owner’s eyes were completely taken by whatever he was drawing on the fold-up desk he brought out from the storage room. By the tedious action of his right hand going up and down, you’ve gotten so used to his part-time identity as the night guard to entirely dismiss his current status as a university student.
Architecture specifically as he first introduced himself to you. The same path your oldest brother, Christopher, worked in. The look of tenacity Jeno presented as his eyebrows continuously scrunched, his crescent orbs hastily spied his work for any unnecessary details and his veiny hands brushed his already messy hair, you were profoundly reminded of Christopher when he was designing his possible future house. You were 8 years old, and he was 22, who just got married. He explained how many floors it’ll have, what rooms to put and what extra furniture he’ll place to make it feel more at home.
Seeing how exceptional his art skills were, you started to sketch like him. With flowers first, it turned into bedrooms and sceneries of your neighborhood. You felt your shoulders rise in accomplishment when you were able to accurately draw people. As much as you credited Benjamin and Liam the most in your works, it’ll only be within yourself to know that you also held a soft spot for Christopher.
Excusing yourself to Princess Diana, you bravely yet quietly ventured into the Foreign Art Room. Hiding first from one of the cement columns, you resumed watching him sketch. Instead of a pencil, he used a black pen with a tip as thin as a pencil. Your assumptions would be it was for a class, basing it on him informing everybody earlier that he’ll be inactive for the remaining hours of his shift to focus on his midterm requirements. That must be difficult to balance, yet he still does everything expected from him. Maybe the second cup of iced coffee beside him stimulated his bones and mind, letting his imagination free.
Through the limited space, you tiptoed whilst holding the side of the column to make up his work. There were 2 and a half rectangular shapes stacked on top of each other, the third one he was still tracing. A sign encrypted with tiny written words you couldn’t decipher, the beauty and modernity of Jeno’s plate cannot go unappreciated.
“That’s absolutely beautiful.”
Sweet words you didn’t think would bounce back in the room, Jeno’s pace ceased whilst you hid again. Art pieces capable of walking weren’t allowed here, he locked the door even beforehand! Or he thought as he was rushing to get his work done because one of his terror professors moved up the deadline to tomorrow morning. Not even 25% finished, he petitioned for everyone’s cooperation just for tonight.
He used up his 2 days of not having the night shift for other projects, and not wanting to ruin his perfect attendance, he proceeded to show up.
The voices from the foreign paintings around him hushed for him out of respect. So possibly someone snuck in, his head looking around for intruders. But only did he quit it when he saw your blurry reflection leaning against the column. The glass windows slightly mirror back what it sees, without you knowing that.
Not to mention, the small bit of your lilac dress was left out. Of all people, it was you?
“Do my eyes deceive me or is Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N) inside when she’s not allowed so?”
To break the killing tension, he tested the waves with an innocent taunt. Never did you reach out to him, so least to say he was entertained whilst keeping his distance.
Fixing your proud stance, you responded in a low baritone voice you used to persuade numerous men in her adventures. “Uhm no, I don’t know who she is.”
As intelligent as you were, Jeno was a few steps farther than you this time. Educated about the risky ways you’d get around and one of them was changing the pitch of your voice, he heartily laughed at your unsuccessful attempt.
“Okay don’t lie, (Y/N). I can see a trail of your dress and your cloak. Oh, your reflection too.”
Damn, you peeked a little to realize that he was correct. Hauling your dress back in to readjust your outfit, you pushed your hair back before appearing to him. Though when you did such, you didn’t suppose that he was practically beside you the entire time. Bumping into his towering stance of 5’10 while the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up, your proud posture loosened up. He even discarded his blazer. A few more inches, he could’ve cornered you on the column if you didn’t take another step back.
Has he always been this tall or were you so used to your boots having high heels under? Oh wait, maybe because you wore flats this time because it’s making your toes sore. Your head bowed from struggling to maintain eye contact with him, your palms caressing your cheeks that suddenly heated up. Clearing your throat, you straightened your back again like nothing happened.
Jeno thought otherwise, shrugging his shoulders as he chuckled. He’s never seen you get shy, not that it was a bad thing either. The temptation to play around it more was there, but he was running out of time for his assignment.
“Come in. I’ll let you off the hook this time.” His arms opened up, allowing you access to such a wonderful exhibit. Paintings from different European periods, miniature versions of famous infrastructures inside glass containers, and replicas of Greek columns in the front entrance, no wonder it’s important to protect them all.
“Are you sure?” Watching him return to his spot, which was a bench in the center of the exhibit with a table in front, it didn’t process that you were gawking at his toned back. His broad shoulders and the evident muscles in his arms while he stretched, your eyes were speedy to look away when he tried to take a glance at you.
“I don’t think the paintings here and I mind.” Sitting down again, he tapped the vacant space beside him. “Feel free to watch me draw if you want to.”
Settling by his side, he recommenced where he left off. Now with a closer view of his piece, it did look like a building as you thought. He was sketching the remaining outline of the 3rd floor of this hypothetical place, continuously checking his ruler to monitor if the lines were consistent. Able to pick up on the words of the sign beside the building, you wowed with one hand on your lips.
“You’re redrawing Seoul National University Museum of Art?”
“One of my plate assignments was to visualize a renovation of a certain place, so I chose the museum.”
“Why so?”
“Well,” Jeno shook his pen so the ink could come out. “This entire place comes to life with the royal plate, so I think we should expand the space and bring in more art pieces to life if we add another extra floor. A rooftop area for visitors and events would be fun. And definitely, we should modernize the exterior and interior a bit because it looks outdated personally. That’s also what my friends think too.”
Noticing the minor details of his plate whilst removing any unnecessary pens so it wouldn’t smudge, “Huh, I quite agree with you.”
For the first time since his night shift, you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), came into an agreement with him. He became so accustomed to clashing opinions that now, you had no contrasting points to make at all. A good change perhaps was what he’s witnessing.
“Woah, who are you agreeing with me and where’s (Y/N)?” He creased his brows whilst locking eye contact with you. This time, you didn’t wince away and just nudged him on his shoulder to get back to work.
“Hush, Jeno. Isn’t that due later? Get to work, I’ll roam around here for the meantime.”
After decades in this museum, you’re enlightened with the foreign paintings in which some you’ve heard of in your younger years and some that were created beyond your time. The Birth of Venus, Liberty Leading the People, Girl with a Pearl Earring, there’s an advantage of learning about their stories that humans couldn’t interpret. Logical that this section must be off-limits because these pieces were extra special, yet there’s so much more than what meets the eye.
There’s peace in silence while you wandered around, though it doesn’t hinder only at the art. Jeno hasn’t uttered a word since he got back to drawing, and once you asked him what’s doing now, still no answer back. Odd, he’s constantly awa-
Oh, my. You must’ve jinxed it.
Your eyes laid on Jeno leaning forward on his desk with his arms serving as his pillow, resting his head sideways. Soft snores and minimal movement in his upper body to shake the growing cold temperature of the room, he was sleeping like a log.
Putting into perspective, he hasn’t acquired enough rest specifically this past 2 weeks. The endless number of plates due making him work extra during his shift rather than sleeping in the slightest, exhaustion must be an understatement. Coffee no longer pushed him to his maximum for this week even.
But this was the path he chose, and it’ll have its challenges. Still, if you could relieve the stress in any way, you would. This would be one of the ways to repay for all the rudeness you’ve passed on him. Scurrying to his side, placing the plate on the side with his other things. You returned the caps of his open pens so they don’t spill. They must be expensive, recalling how Jeno shared the cons of being an architecture major to Princess Diana. One was the pens needed for sketching, and any tiny damages to them meant buying them again.
With his watch on clear display, he only had 2 hours left until his shift was done. Then, 4 hours until his plate assignment was done, and his current plate was far from done.
The blunt impulse to wake him up slithered your mind, though his calm state deflected your duty. As if you were on board a ship again for your explorations, you paid attention to the view with a relaxed mindset.
Lee Jeno specifically was the view.
His coffee-stained lips were parted and his sharp nose breathing in and out at a relaxing pace, he must be dreaming a happy moment the way half his lips curved into a smile. If he’s resting well, then you too would be calm.
Because of your past disinterest in him, only at this moment did you observe how sharp his jawline was and the cuts on his arms he sought refuge in. No matter how many times you tried to deny Hera’s compliments of him on the side, you couldn’t.
Lee Jeno embodied attractive features; both physical and emotional.
Back to his plate, it’ll put him at a disadvantage if he submitted the way it looked before he passed out. But you remembered all those extra details he mentioned and wanted to add to this project. Being an explorer, you documented all your ventures through words or drawings. You’re fast to adjust to anything new too.
For all the good he’s done for everyone, he only deserved some help in return.
Your version of help was sketching the remaining details of this plate, using other pens for more emphasis. It’s a risk also, but no way could you turn a blind eye on Jeno this time.
Around 5:30 am, Jeno’s eyes blinked open due to a brightening light from the outside. Stretching his limbs, he finds a velvet cloak wrapped around him like a blanket. But before he could question it, he pulled his arm in to see the time on his watch.
“Fuck!” He cursed, realizing that his so-called 10-minute snooze break aborted.
“Oh my, you’re awake!” From his frazzled state, there you were. So put together yet active, some strands of your hair falling down your face even with your hair up in a ponytail. “How was your sleep?”
This whole time he could’ve been woken up, yet you chose not to. You’re aware of his deadline, yet you let him rest entirely. He could’ve burst out in stress, yet he didn’t. You and he may have started on the wrong foot, yet it’s impossible of you to do such an evil thing. He’ll just have to tolerate the outcome later today.
“Refreshing. I really needed it.” Packing his things in his bag and closing the table, you trailed along as he exited with you. Locking up, he has 30 minutes left to accomplish the cleaning. A long good morning indeed.
But his worry of that vanished when you admitted that you had it all covered.
“Everyone helped out in cleaning, plus there are no damages made either.” From your hand, you returned one of his keys that was on his guard blazer. “I double-checked the Oriental Room and locked the doors again.”
“Why are you suddenly so nice to me, (Y/N)?” He questioned with confusion, wearing his blazer again and patting away any creases. He placed your cloak over you again like a true gentleman.
Without a word, you simply invited him to walk you back to your exhibit as parts of the sun began to rise. As you returned to your section, your fellow figures readying themselves to pose again,
“It’s my way to apologize for my very rude first impression and the succeeding moments after. I was too cooped up in my past that I was too afraid to let humans in again, night guards in particular.” You admitted, removing your cloak and placing behind your chair like always. “I’m so sorry, Jeno. Everyone was right about you and your kind heart.”
“About time.” Cleopatra’s sultry voice cut in, laying on her day bed.
Before you had the chance to flip off, Jeno mediated swiftly. With a gentle smile, “No worries about it. I’m just happy you’re okay, after all you’ve been through.”
“Can we start over then?”
“Absolutely.” With his free hand, he brought it out. No matter what kind of introductions, shaking one’s hand was the best way to start a friendship. “Good evening. I’m Lee Jeno, the new museum night guard.”
“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), explorer and author.” Sighing at his humor, you still replied by shaking his hand. “And I believe you’re mistaken, Lee Jeno. It’s a good morning.”
Seconds after, you imitated your typical pose and smile. Only now, the latter was more genuine. Finally, a fresh start to end your agony.
Once the sun fully revealed itself, every figure including yourself froze back to sleep. Something Jeno wished to catch up on if it weren’t for his damn plate. He was so screwed, already contemplating his next steps if he does fail this class. The possibility of getting delayed in all aspects, he dreaded it already.
Heading back to his dorm, where both his roommates completely passed out from soju on the couch, he sat by his work desk and turned on his night lamp for more light since the sun wasn’t strong enough yet.
With another cup of coffee, he cracked the joints of his knuckles and laid out his pens. He had 2 hours left to submit this plate, and at most he should accomplish 50% of his initial plan. However, he didn’t anticipate such a gorgeous outcome when he brought out his plate.
Picture perfect of every detail he desired, even adding a rooftop area with that he’d love to have if ever the museum does go under renovation one day. Rather than setting the plate during the day, it was at night as the skies were dark and bright specks of yellow inside the building symbolized light.
So much for wasting coffee, he’ll just give it to Jaemin when he wakes up later. Below the final product, a note written in cursive was stuck on it.
I knew you wanted to get this specific plate done, but you mustn’t compromise your sleep for it. It’s your inhumane professor’s fault!
To make up for my faults, I wanted to help you out. I paid extra attention to the details you spoke highly about, so I only hoped that I interpreted it correctly. It’s risky, but as someone who researched so much about me, would you be surprised that I did such a thing?
PS: Get back to sleep. I’m quite sure your desk is laid out the same way in the Foreign Art Room.
Respectfully,
(Y/N)
Turning off his lamp, Jeno jumped the covers of his bed to continue his lost sleep. Without an ounce of care that he hasn’t changed into cleaner clothes, he’s relieved that he won’t flunk his class.
Most of all, he’s relieved that you’ve melted the ice in you and allowed kindness to come in. Jeno may never understand how hard that must’ve been for you, yet he raved you for it.
“Oh, (Y/N) (Y/L/N). Surprise is an understatement when it comes to you.”
#nct#nct au#nct scenarios#nct x reader#nct fluff#nct angst#nct smut#nct imagines#nct dream#nct dream au#nct dream scenarios#nct dream x reader#nct dream fluff#nct dream angst#nct dream smut#nct dream imagines#lee jeno#lee jeno x reader#lee jeno au#lee jeno scenarios#lee jeno angst#lee jeno imagines#lee jeno fluff#lee jeno smut#jeno#jeno x reader#jeno au#jeno scenarios#jeno imagines#jeno fluff
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midnights songs as steddie headcanons pt.2
note: here is part 2 of my previous post and i adore writing this stuff. maybe i should make this as a serious just with other album songs. for example the whole reputation album could be them
Mastermind: Eddie is in school for a long time now as we know, because he always fails some classes. But it’s more than obvious he isn’t stupid, this shit just doesn’t interest him. So when Steve gets to know him a little better, he is more than amazed. At first it takes him like a bullet, when he sees Eddie playing the guitar and doing the most epic solos ever. He knew he has a band, but he definitely didn’t know that he was this talented. Eddie learns some of Steve’s favorite songs and thanks to this, he gets better at playing on acoustic guitar as well. The next thing is D&D. It’s a nerdy game, Steve thought for a long-long time, but he knew nothing about the process of making a campaign. It literally shocks him how Eddie can sit for hours on the side of his bed, tongue poking out in concentration as he plans the campaign for Hellfire club. And Steve feels like he can’t even blink as he watches him and listens to the little things he murmurs to himself. How he builds up a whole story, and connecting every tiny dot to make sense. Steve gets a headache just from hearing that much information and somehow Eddie effortlessly manages to keep everything in mind, and even randomly adds things. Eddie never had anyone to play with as kid, so he sat in his room and planned his whole life. Maybe that’s why it wasn’t an accident that Steve and him became that close as they are. He had all the time in the world to make up stories and try to teach himself how to read or write, using all of his energy. He was still called stupid and a weirdo, but he never cared. He knew what’s in him and that’s all that mattered to him. Eddie has loads of special interests and he uses these to figure out things. For example, in a difficult situation he acts like he is in one of his favorite novels as one of the characters who needs to solve the situation. From him, the biggest compliment is if he says you remind him of one of these interests. That’s when all of this hits Steve, when Eddie says he reminded him of Ozzy. Ever since then Steve wants to study every little thing about Eddie and wants to know everything that happens in that wonderful mind of his.
Anti-Hero (Eddie’s Version): Eddie took shit from others in all of his life. He was just watching everyone going so good in life, while in every moment he felt like he is losing his mind. So he got used to it. But truly he never escaped that dark corner of his mind where sometimes he sank back to. He seemed fine, but just like everyone does, he has a breaking point, too. His breaking point is cracking slowly as things starting to take a drastic turn after Chrissy’s death. Not even his own mind is safe anymore. All he can think about is how he ran away, how he could do nothing to save her. He had some self-image issues before, but now his demons seem to tear him apart. Then Steve appears. He remembers him, of course he does. His friends used to bully him, but Steve is nothing like he was back then. He is a hero, actually. At least Eddie thinks this and suddenly around Steve he feels a bit better. It’s like he quiets everything in his head. And then there they are, Steve telling them not to be heroes. Eddie was never a hero, he was too coward to be one. It hurts him, making him feel like a hundred daggers are stabbing him in every moment, but he knows it’s true. Unless.. it’s not anymore. Dustin screams after him, but he just stares into the darkness of the trailer, hearing how the demobats will break the door in a minute and he just can’t leave. He can’t runaway again, his body just won’t move. He swallows and goes back, becuase so far everyone - including him - was rooting for an anti-hero. And now he wanna become someone who worths the effort. He goes back.. (let me just finish it here, it hurted to write this </3 ) Another scenarios is that when Eddie and Steve start dating, Eddie feels like re is ruining everything for Steve. That he is the problem, no matter how hard Steve tries to convince him othervise. This is his biggest insecurity that sometimes shows up with a heart stopping wave of strenght. Steve can’t even imagine what could have Eddie gone through that makes him think such a thing. And it’s so rare, when Eddie showes this concern of his, but when he does, just goes silent for minutes between sentences, where Steve just pulls him closer, massaging the back of his neck, whispering; you aren’t the problem. People are shitty, yeah? You don’t ruin anything. - And less to say, it takes Eddie a bit of a time to actually process and take this.
Bigger Than The Whole Sky (another angst, don’t worry, Sweet Nothing is coming up right after for some comfort): This happens, if Steve was there with Eddie at the end. Steve falls onto his knees next to Eddie. He doesn’t even know how to touch him without hurting him even more, so he tries to be so gentle. He talks so fast, his tongue trips on the words, because he wants Eddie to know everything before he’s gone. And gosh, Steve is crying. He can barely see Eddie’s pain colored face, because of his tears are making his vision blurry. He’s just holding into Eddie’s ripped clothes, murmuring the words to him, while Eddie is weakly smiling. Gosh, he still adores Steve. The weight of this situation doesn’t change a single thing. “Steve?” he speaks, voice small. “Yeah, Eddie?” Steve sobs, trying to keep the remaining of himself together. “I’m sorry I wasn’t brave enough to tell you, that I liked you. That I liked the cool Steve Harrington.” he weakly chuckles, his lungs giving up. And Steve wants to talk, he wants to tell Eddie that everything is gonna be fine and maybe they could go out sometimes when they get back. That he will get to the hospital and he will be fine in a few weeks. But he knows. “You were the breavest today, Eddie.” he says instead, not ready to say goodbye. His throat burning because he has a lot more to say and suddenly he wanna tells everything in the world’s all and every languages, but he knows he doesn’t have much time left. For him, Eddie became more than just a short time, and the grief is gonna be even longer. Steve’s days after are black and white. He is just a shadow of himself for a while. He can’t stop wondering about what could have happened if he gets to know more Eddie a bit sooner. If he wasn’t that much of an asshole in high school. His emotions are bigger than the whole sky and stronger than a forest fire. Sometimes he stands in front of his mirror, staring at his scars on his torso, knowing very well that these wounds killed Eddie. He bites his lip and closes his eyes. He thinks that it’s should have been him and not Eddie.
Sweet Nothing (imagine i’m putting a bandage on our stab wounds now): Okay so after a while, Eddie and Steve gets an apartmant together in a big big city. They are both excited because everything is so new. It’s the fascination of getting lost in these things. How they’re starting to have a routine for every day. How they start to know their house better and better, their stuff and love everywhere, turning the whole place into a home. They get jobs and a cat which Eddie names something absolutely ridicilous. Steve gets to choose the channel on every Tuesday, Wednesday and Saturday, but in the car he can always play his music. When they get home from shopping on Fridays, Eddie needs to take out the key from Steve’s pocket, because Steve’s hands are full with bags and stuff they don’t even need, but it’s cool so Eddie needed to buy it. Steve’s favorites are the Saturday nights when he lies next to Eddie while he writes new songs, trying to get into the music industry. He even starts to play on the streets and people seem to really like him. Eddie paints their bedroom wall and he is allowed to draw on it, making literal artworks, so when he isn’t there, Steve can’t help but stare at them. They even have a little balcony where Eddie has plants. He never knew he would be into gardening, but he adores petting the little leaves and watering them every morning. They drink their coffees here as well, and their favorites are the colder summer mornings, looking down at the city waking up and getting filled with noise. Their favorite restaurant is around the corner where they spend their anniversary every year. They get to know loads of new people, but how could they forget about their good old friends? In every six months, everyone comes over to a sleeping party at their places, so there are people everywhere. Sleeping on the couch, the floor, a matress, wherever they can. It makes them feel like they are back in Hawkins and they are just young, careless teens. And when Eddie can’t sleep because sometimes, really rarely he still have some nightmares (Steve overcame this luckily), Steve rocks him in their bed, maybe making him some midnight snacks or going out to the balcony. They have a small swing bed there where Eddie can sit close to Steve while Steve tells him about their future and how many things are still ahead of them that they need to try. So eventually, when Steve finishes talking, all he can hear is Eddie’s little snores and him dreaming about the stuff he talked about to him.
#steddie#eddie munson#steve and eddie#eddie stranger things#steddie fic#steve harrington#steve stranger things#stranger things#angst#steve loves eddie#eddie loves steve#taylor swift#taylor#taylor swift midnights#mastermind#bigger than the whole sky#sweet nothing#anti-hero
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You want Paz requests? I’m in love with the man, I think of him all the time.
Did you ever experience someone telling you they like you as a joke when you were a kid?? I definitely did.
I can imagine big strong thicc man Paz telling me he has feelings and would like to court, and me just getting upset because I think someone put him up to it as a joke. I’d legit cry. Little bit of angst, some fluff when they talk it out, the whole nine yards
Real Love, Baby
Pairing: Paz Vizsla x Mandalorian!Reader
Word count: 1.2K
Warnings: Bullying, kids are cruel, probably some emotional trauma, a smidge of violence, angst, a sprinkling of fluff, a lack of proof reading because I’m ✨impatient✨
A/n: Oh man I had my own brand of emotional manipulation back in the day but that’s the worst, I’m so sorry that happened to you but we’re gonna turn it around in here! Hope this is what you were looking for! Cue “Real Love Baby” by Father John Misty!
Masterlist
Having grown up in the covert alongside him it felt like you’d known Paz forever. You didn’t get the chance to speak much or work together often anymore but you had always thought those formative years together had given you somewhat of an understanding of one another.
Believe it or not Paz wasn’t always as popular among the covert as he was now. He was big and clumsy as a child and didn’t know how to control his emotions. You had both been made laughingstock in all the school yard games, the butt of every joke. You doubted he even remembered it now, how you two had been forced to look out for one another back then. There was still one time you couldn’t get out of your head when after being humiliated in front of just about the entire class he had beaten up the kid who had asked you out only to laugh in your face the moment you stuttered out a yes. He had endured the punishment for once again losing his temper and starting a fight and he’d done it for you. You had never known how to thank him properly for it.
Since then he’d been deemed useful by the tribe. He’d gained their respect through brute strength and growth of character and now he practically ran the place. He was compassionate and strong willed, brilliant with children, a provider if you had ever seen one and a surprisingly good leader. He was everything the tribe needed and more which was why you were so taken aback by the words tumbling out of his mouth now.
You paused, unable to control the quiver to your jaw or the way tears had begun to blur your vision as the memories came flooding back to you.
He was supposed to be different. He knew better. And here he was telling you he loved you? No.
“Kriff, Paz I know you’re popular now but I thought at least you would have the decency not to pull this old stunt on me.” You managed to choke out, thankful for the helmet which now at least helped you hide the hurt that felt like it was ripping you up from the inside. The hurt because what he thought of you actually mattered. The hurt because you had worked so hard to push yourself past the phase in your life where you let peoples words cut you deeper than any vibroblade and here he was knocking you right back into it. The hurt because you wanted him to mean those words more than you had ever wanted anyone else to and instead here he was making some kind of sick mockery out of how famously unlovable you were just like all the rest of them had back then.
“And to think I spent all this time trying to figure out how to thank you.” You scoffed, turning on your heel to escape back down the hall.
Paz’s mind reeled. What had he done wrong? He made the mistake of reaching a hand out to grab your wrist—any attempt to get you to stay, to let him figure out what to say, to explain—Bad move.
In the blink of an eye you’d managed to twist out of his grasp and quite literally sweep him off his feet with the collapsible spear that lived on your person at all times. Jabbing it towards him as he attempted to recover from the breath that had been taken from his lungs upon his impact with the floor, you leaned over him, the crown of your helmet almost touching his when you spoke again.
“Who put you up to it?” You managed to grit out trying your best to maintain the upper hand but your voice gave out and you knew even through the vocoder he couldn’t have missed that pitiful gasp of a sob that managed to sneak past your lips.
Realization struck Paz almost as hard as your foot which came to press his chest plate back down when he tried to sit up.
“No one, mesh’la”
“Bantha shit,” you spat out and he felt the words slap him across the face and truly sting despite the visor in between you at the thought that you believed what you were saying. The idea that some stupid little kids back in school had convinced you you were unworthy of love or warmth or affection. For a second he was seeing red all over again. It was like he was back in school watching them poke fun at you for being compassionate and kind and wearing your heart on your sleeve in a way he’d seen no other mandalorian do. You were so strong, and so brave and so real and they’d forced you to bury it, hide it all away so they wouldn’t pick it to shreds. He could see it now, still there, scratching at the surface, bursting at the seams to be free and it made him all the more confident of the words that were falling out of his mouth.
“Don’t let them win.” He said softly, remembering the words you had told him when you were young and the same kids who tormented you kept trying to taunt him into fights they knew he would get in trouble for. A sudden wave of guilt flooded over him at the thought that the only reason they gave you such a bad time back then was to get to him. “You can’t let them control your happiness like this forever.”
“Paz…” the words failed you as the spear went limp in your hand, your shoulders falling and a heavy sigh rattled through your chest. “You can’t seriously want me…” you shook your head, staving off another wave of tears but you didn’t resist him this time when he moved to sit up, nor when he tugged you down to sit in his lap, a large gloved hand guiding your chin so you were forced to look straight at him.
“See that? Those are their words, not yours.” He hummed, a low warm thing full of softness and care that made your heart ache. “And I’d really like to hear your words when I ask you this question.”
A second stretched into another as you grappled with the idea of what was happening. With the reality of what he’d said earlier and the weight that he had actually meant it despite all that you had been convinced of. You allow yourself a hesitant nod, ready for the laughter to start booming from all around you but instead a large warm hand slides beneath the lip of your helmet to brush a gloved thumb against your jaw line.
“Would you please allow me to show you what it’s like to be loved for real?” Paz asks and he can feel the smile that tugs at your lips beneath his hand before you speak in a voice that is yours and yours alone.
“Yes.”
Masterlist
#paz vizla x reader#paz vizsla x gn!reader#paz vizsla x you#paz vizla#paz vizsla#the mandalorian fanfic#paz vizsla x reader
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bro i'm a sucker for soft Vandermorgan....dutch reading while arthur sketches.....leaning on eachother.....dutch reaching over to rub arthur's back every few pages........running his hand through arthur's hair...soft k*sses and giggling...
Howdy, anon! 💜
My apologies that it took me a week to get back to this one. I gave time to consider it, and I hope the fic I wrote in response makes up for that!! It’s a very cute ask, and I love tenderness between them, too. But despite my affection for lighthearted stuff, I usually struggle with writing it (I’m a very dark and morbid person - oops 😅). Anyway, I’ve been getting quite a few soft VDM asks lately, so I figured I would accept another challenge!
I was hesitant about actually posting this, but I figured, what is there to lose? It does have some angst sprinkled in (I couldn’t help myself), but I hope I did your idea justice!!!
Oh, and to anybody else who sent VDM asks recently, I am still giving them some thought! So, stay tuned 😉
In the meantime, please enjoy…❤️🖤
“Why are you avoiding me, Arthur?”
Hand freezing and pencil ceasing its scratching within the journal on his lap, Arthur furrowed his brow as he peaked over the fire at Dutch. Yet, his eyes remained wide and questioning as he pushed back, “I’m not avoiding you. I just didn’t think you wanted to be bothered while you read.”
“Oh, come on. You know I never minded it in the past, especially not on a cold night like this. We could use all the heat we can spare between us,” Dutch flipped his book shut, patting the ground beside him.
Likewise, Arthur slid the bookmark of his journal in place as he closed it. “Well, I guess… it’s just…”
Dutch chuckled as he noticed Arthur bite his lip to suppress a timid smile. He gestured to Arthur, beckoning him over once again. “I know it’s been a long time since it’s been just the two of us, but you don’t have to be shy.”
“Alright,” Arthur agreed as he pushed himself to his feet, journal still clutched in one hand. He walked over and knelt next to Dutch, but before he could properly get seated, Dutch reached forward and grasped him by his shirt collars. Pressing Arthur’s back to his bedroll, Dutch pinned him there as he straddled his hips.
The journal got cast aside as Arthur grabbed at Dutch’s back. Their lips met, hungrily and impassioned. Dutch pressed his chest firmer against Arthur’s and moaned at the warmth that radiated between them. He pulled back and grinned down at Arthur through heavily-lidded eyes, “See, isn’t it better on this side?”
“I was afraid this might happen,” Arthur laughed as he reached a hand forward and brushed some loose curls away from Dutch’s face.
Emitting a soft hum, Dutch felt himself glow with a warm, fuzzy feeling in the pit of his stomach. Leaning in close once more, he whispered, “And are you complaining?”
“Never.” Arthur pulled Dutch in for another kiss, before Dutch backed away and sat up.
“I didn’t think so.” Dutch smirked as he reached for his wool blanket and unfolded it. Motioning for Arthur to sit up as well, he handed him a corner. They each wrapped part of it around themselves as they huddled close to the fire.
Arthur scooped his journal up and leaned against Dutch, his back pressed into the older man’s arm and shoulder for support. He reopened the journal on his lap, but his position hid his face and the journal’s contents from Dutch as he returned to sketching.
Attempting to peer over Arthur’s shoulder to no avail, Dutch asked, “What are you working on?”
“What are you reading?” Arthur shot back.
Dutch felt his heart briefly flutter. He couldn’t keep the smile out of his voice as he responded, “Since when do you care about what I read?”
When Arthur gave no response, Dutch slipped one hand around Arthur’s chest, hugging him and pulling him tighter. Gradually, he let his hand glide lower, until it reached the top of Arthur’s pants. Tugging at the shirt tucked in there, Dutch moved it out of the way and slipped his cold fingers inside. Arthur jumped at the sudden intrusion and gave a shriek, “AHH! Dutch! Your hand is freezing!”
Nuzzling his nose against the back of Arthur’s neck, Dutch pressed a soft kiss there. His lips grazed the sensitive flesh as he muttered, “Why are you being so difficult tonight, my boy?”
“Too bad you just ruined any chance of seeing my sketch.” Arthur’s voice had a teasing edge, but it was lighthearted. “Read to me, first. I always liked listening to your voice.”
At that statement, Dutch pulled his hand away from Arthur’s warm skin but still kept it wrapped around him as he moved his head back in surprise. His mouth hung slightly agape at the boldness in Arthur’s tone, though he felt the corners of his eyes crinkle in amusement. “So, that’s how you want to play this game… fine.”
Picking his book up in his free hand, Dutch opened it in his lap and scanned the pages. Arthur continued to sketch as Dutch’s other hand rubbed small circles over his chest.
Landing on a passage that caught his eye, Dutch began to read, “‘But whether the resistance against tyrants is non-violent or physically violent, the overarching efforts to overthrow oppression justifies the means.’ What do you think of that, Arthur?”
“It’s very nice, Dutch.”
“‘Nice?’ That’s the word you’d use to describe it?” Dutch protested, though he affectionately wrapped his arm tighter around Arthur as he did so. He flipped through the pages for a few more moments of silence before his eyes landed on another. “Well, how about this one? ‘The whole point of America is freedom. Freedom of thought, freedom of deed, freedom of action.’”
Letting out a sigh, Arthur tilted his head back so he could look at Dutch. Their faces were close - mere inches apart - as Arthur spoke, just barely above a whisper, “Does it always have to be about politics, Dutch? Some greater good? I thought we came out here to escape all that.”
Dutch wanted to argue and explain how important Evelyn Miller’s writings were to their mission as a gang and their survival. But he knew Arthur was right. This was their moment to share, and it wasn’t any use wasting it on philosophical debates. Those could wait.
Tipping his head forward, Dutch pressed a chaste kiss to Arthur’s lips and nodded as he pulled away. “Okay.”
Arthur smiled at him as he turned his head back towards his journal and continued to work. Looking back at his book, Dutch searched for a different passage to read. Though most of the ones he noted were about ideological teachings, he did finally settle on one that made his eyes narrow and lips tighten in consideration.
Taking a breath, Dutch traced the words with his finger as he read aloud, “‘Say what you have to say, not what you ought. Any truth is better than make-believe.’”
Arthur did not say anything in response, though Dutch felt his hand stop drawing, as if Arthur was thinking about it. Dutch could feel the steady beat of Arthur’s heart as he gently massaged his chest.
Eventually, Dutch buried his face in Arthur’s blond hair as he asked, “Hmm, was that better?”
Arthur flipped his journal shut in his lap and rocked lightly into Dutch as he muttered, “You know I was never much good with words.”
“Oh, son… and you know that I wish you wouldn’t downplay yourself like this.” Dutch squeezed Arthur’s breast as he cradled him closer. “You speak from the heart, that’s what matters most... same goes for when you draw in that journal of yours.”
At that, Arthur bent his head down towards the journal in his lap. He tied the leather flap and slid the pencil in place underneath it. Lifting the journal, he set it in front of where the two of them were seated and pushed it forward. It was like a silent invitation, placed just out of reach.
Adjusting his position, Arthur turned around so he could lean his chest against Dutch as he wound both of his arms around the older man’s waist. He buried his head in the crook of Dutch’s neck, and Dutch couldn’t suppress a shiver as Arthur’s warm breath vibrated across the bare flesh at his collar when he spoke, “Thank you for reading to me. ‘M getting tired…”
“Rest up, it’s been a long day.” Dutch set his own book aside so he could readjust himself and wrap his arms around Arthur’s back. He rubbed soothing circles as he rested his chin atop Arthur’s head and watched the flickering glow of the fire.
This was real.
This wasn’t make-believe, or some long-lost memory. Arthur’s steady breathing and the warmth of his flesh confirmed that fact. Dutch let his eyes flicker shut in thought as he was once again reminded of how right Arthur was.
At the end of the day, all those fancy words in his books and his own philosophizing would be meaningless without Arthur by his side.
Dutch furrowed his brow as he blinked his eyes open. Biting his lip, he took a sharp breath and paused. He hesitated to say the words on the tip of his tongue, but he released a long exhale as he tightened his grip on his boy.
He felt safe here.
“You know, Arthur… you’re right. This life of crime, even I sometimes wonder where it all ends, or if it even ends at all. I try to do what’s best, I really do. I know I talk a lot about loyalty and how important it is to keep faith, but these moments when I’m alone with you….” Dutch let his voice trail off. Even amidst his own speaking, he couldn’t fail to notice the light snore coming from Arthur’s lips.
But rather than feeling anger or frustration, Dutch merely smiled. In a way, it was a relief. Arthur couldn’t hear him, and if he could, he would never remember Dutch’s words come morning. Somehow, it was easier this way. Whatever he said aloud, he knew he wouldn’t have to prove or justify it to anybody. He could speak from the heart.
The truth.
“I don’t know how I could ever go on without you. Please, don’t ever let go…”
At that, Dutch squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. He focused on the way Arthur maintained a tight grip around his waist, despite his steady snores. The words weren’t meant to be literal, but for the moment, Dutch could allow himself to believe it was possible both physically and figuratively.
Dutch blinked the dampness away from his eyelashes as he looked back towards the fire. The journal was still sitting there, illuminated by the orange glow. Shifting on the ground, Dutch lifted his head away from Arthur and peered down at him. He seemed unbothered by the movements, so Dutch decided to push it further. Unwrapping one arm from around Arthur’s back, Dutch leaned slowly forward, until his fingertips were just able to land on the journal’s leather cover.
Pulling the book towards him, Dutch was able to pick it up in one hand and place it in his lap. He briefly feared the action disturbed Arthur, for he whined and pressed his face harder against Dutch’s shoulder. However, his heavy breathing continued, and Dutch proceeded to slide the journal’s strap out of its place. Holding the pencil in his hand, Dutch turned to the bookmark at the back.
There, he found a sketch of two animals - a buck and a wolf. Despite serving contrasting roles in the wild, they looked perfectly at ease within the sketch. They curled around each other as they laid down to rest, their noses nearly touching. The way they huddled together made it seem believable that they really could find harmony, regardless of their true natures.
On the opposite page, a message was written, “‘Couldn’t resist, could you?’”
Dutch chuckled, Was he really that predictable?
Using the pencil, he scrawled his own note underneath, “‘It’s no use trying to fight who we really are.’”
Taking one last look at the sketch, Dutch ran a finger over it. Just as he could speak in metaphorical language, Arthur could draw in it. But the meanings underneath it all remained the same.
Just because it wasn’t literal, that didn’t mean it wasn’t the truth.
Closing the journal and placing it back where he found it, Dutch kept a firm hold on Arthur as he pulled the both of them down to lay on his bedroll. Adjusting the blanket, Dutch made sure it was draped snugly over them as Arthur soundlessly snuggled his face against Dutch’s chest and hugged him tighter. Once Dutch was comfortable, he likewise wrapped his arms around Arthur, one holding him by the small of his back and the other rumpling his hair.
Feeling tired as well, Dutch shut his eyes. With his final words for the night, Dutch thought of what he just wrote in the journal as they held each other close. Continuing along the same line of thought, he whispered, “We just gotta embrace it.”
#dutch van der linde#Arthur morgan#vandermorgan#rdr2#red dead redemption 2#rdr#red dead redemption#writing#mine#fanfic#dutch x arthur#sfw#soft vandermorgan#fluff#hugging#kissing#cuddling#Arthur's journal#Evelyn miller#also mentions of Ron Paul and Henry David Thoreau because I could not resist ;)#thank you anon <3#anon#anonymous#ask#request#(kind of)#dutch van der linde x Arthur morgan#video games
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This shit is fake bby!!!
Here she is.. My masterpost of all the dumb, illogical bits of info contained within these s15 “leaks” that make me fairly confident they are complete bullshit. It also includes my little tinhat theories that have absolutely no evidence.
I will be putting it all under a Readmore in case you don't want to risk it or if you simply Do Not Care
First up, I'd like to point out that these call sheets repeatedly give very detailed backstories to characters that have few lines which conveniently paints a picture of each episode's plot. And I'm not an expert so correct me if I'm wrong, but after looking at other similar casting calls, they only ever include the demographic and necessary skills.
Basically who in their right mind would write up casting calls that give away so many spoilers? Seems like that could cause and issue if they were leaked lol. But anyway that's my 1st point. But onto the actual content
So the conceit of this episode as a whole is that during the pandemic, the gang "gamed the system" and received three (3!) Loans to start businesses that went bankrupt. One of these businesses is implied to be the one started by dee and charlie who end up selling to Qanon shaman. Already this is so impossible baby.
1. We've already seen the gang try to get a loan and it didn't work. They don't have good ideas. Ur telling me, they managed to finagle 3 separate loans for 3 separate business ideas from an actual bank?
2. Maybe I just have bad reading comprehension but how does one have a business that is both fictitious and bankrupt?
3. If the customer is supposed to be Qanon shaman, an actual real life guy, why are the only descriptors white and male? They say he's shirtless so are they going to paint on all of the tattoos he has? And if so, doesn't that kind of ruin the dramatic reveal when charlie "throws in" the viking helmet? Why would he do that anyways? Sus.
Moving on
Alright this episode would fucking blow for obvious reasons but im going to refrain from looking at this through my gay dennis thruther lens because im biased.
Purely from a narrative standpoint, a woman hasn't been shown to be interested in dennis in nearly 5 years during the wade boggs episode. Ever since, every single woman he approaches has been actively creeped out by him. And now I'm supposed to believe that 3 "smart, passionate woman" (In Their Twenties!!!!!!) agreed to go on a date with him? And Anna even slept with him! Just because he what? Agreed with her? I'm not buyin it.
Plus the concept of this scenario lacks any potential for comedy. When iasip gets political, they always discuss a very specific topic using hyperbolic situations and flawed metaphors. If this is supposed to be a political episode, what ultimately lukewarm point would rob be trying to make here? So far we know they're ranting about
The patriarchy
Privilege
Socialism
No more personal responsibility(?)
The... nature of power in society(??)
How on earth would an episode like get approved? This shit sounds like a Ted talk. It sounds like it was written specifically to sound like a political episode so boring and pointless it would generate outrage and mile long essay posts from Tumblr users and reddit users alike. Almost like this one lol.
On a completely unrelated note, do not try and convince me that Frank "casual cock ring wearer" Reynolds is unable to perform.
Jeez this is getting out of hand fast. Let's move on
Ok now we're starting to getting into the Ireland of it all. Let me go on a bit of a tangent here about all this.. Now I thinq there are just 3 possibilities. Either this is all a publicity stunt and there is some truth to the Ireland rumors, the entire thing could be bogus from some weirdo fan (ps, if a fan did write this I want you to know I fucking hate you. You did this to me), or it is a publicity stunt but Ireland is just more bullshit.
I am going to assume it was a publicity stunt, otherwise I just wasted my entire evening and I can't have that kind of mentality rn. Additionally, I'm Going to tinhat here for a second and say that the Ireland rumors are true, but the details are different.
I say this because if they were going to do filming in Ireland, they probably figured that that information would be impossible to hide. In essence, my completely unfounded hypothesis is that this leak was their fucked up little way of controlling the situation while simultaneously messing with us.
Ok tangent is over, returning to the casting calls. From the looks of it, dee starts a "scam" acting class and has some very devoted students (Note that Tony was also the name of the porn shop owner. Seems weird!) Presumably after the gang replaces her with a monkey as the title suggests.
Honestly, there isn't too much here that's a red flag to me... seems like a nice little dee-centric episode that is the link to the Dublin angle. Assuming I am At All right, this could be a genuine plotline for Dee. However, the monkey could be a red herring and there could be a whole different side plot with the guys. who's to say. Next one!
Ah yes this is the dennis we all know and despise.. no red flags for me here really, I'm also running out of steam because idk if it shows, but I am majorly sleep deprived atm. Anyway I'm going to the next one
Okay this is where things start getting weird again ough a migraine just hit, anyway back to my earlier point about how casting calls would never contains major spoilers bc the people who see these wont be under any kind of NDA..
These ones reveal that bonnie dies. Again, that info wouldn't be in a casting call.
But also they suggest charlie has a irish penpal named Shelley who is his biological father. First off charlie is illiterate, although as pointed out by @undeadbreeze shelley could also be communicating in symbols. However, this scenario is still unbelievable to me for a couple reasons:
1. Bonnie's last name is Kelly obviously, and we know it's her maiden name because Jack's last name is also Kelly. But Shelley's last name is... also Kelly? In the context of this big ol hoax, it feels like it was written to show that look! his last name is the same as charlie's! That's how you know that's his dad! But It would be way too big of a coincidence if charlie's dad happened to have the same last name bonnie.
And 2. There's the whole mystery of charlie's long-lost sister from 'charlie got molested' but never any mention of a brother which according to this, shelley has been pretending to be his brother for years. And we all know how much rcg loves their continuity, it seems uncharacteristically lazy to just tack this on without any prior buildup.
And finally let me talk about mac for a second and specifically the line in gus's summary "both are gay men who are attracted to the priesthood for all the wrong reasons"
Iasip has commented on pedophilia in the priesthood many times in the past which leads me to believe that they are implying that mac is a pedophile? Please let me know if I completely misread the implications of that statement, but if not, then that is completely insane and one of the biggest indictators that this is fake. Mac is awful, just like everyone in the gang but he is definitely not a pedophile.
However even if i did completely misread that, it's still proof this is fake.. For all his faults, Rob put a surprising amount of care and effort into mac's coming-out. It hasn't been perfect, but Mfhp in particular firmly established that mac's faith is integral to his identity so Its unlikely that rob would throw all of that away for a cheap shot at priests.
Ok my brain is irradiated sludge at this point, but in conclusion. I hope that 1. I'm right, at least about it being fake (Otherwise damb that'll be so humiliating for me) And 2. This eases ur fears a bit. I don't want to lose all faith in future seasons bc I love iasip and miss the gang. If you read this far youre insane but I literally love you so goddamn much because I spent so so long tapping this out on my silly little phone
Please feel free to add on or message me your thoughts and opinions I need to know I'm not the only one who uhhh went a bit insane. And finally: whoever made these is a cunt. Mwah.
#iasip#s15 spoilers#oy vey.....#they could also be written by a reddit fan who is too much of a pussy to just write fanfic but that seems kinda unlikely?#cause 1. itll be disproven so everyone will know u just... wrote weird fanfic#and 2. there are a lot of little details that are so random that even if this is a fan just messing with people.... why put in so much effo#wahtever im pressing post#actually tho what gge fuck is that priest line supposed to imply#i guess for mac it could be talking about his view that god smites enemies and u must fear him blah blah#i jus don't know what it was supposed to imply about gus!!!#bc they describe gus like he is fat mac with healthy views on the bible which :]#then that last line just gives me whiplash what does that mean!!
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in lieu of doing more strenuous hand-based activities heres the Dogboy Gordon In Heat Megamix ive been talking about. i wrote this over the course of a couple months in an effort to feel okay about writing horny shit again and i only just realized there are nearly 6 thousand words here. and they only really fuck for like 10% of that
ta-dah
ive thought a lot about gordon being stuck back at gordonhouse after getting kicked out of barneyhouse. i think its ripe for a lot of pining. (and yes, he is pining over the guy hes actively banging. hes being a big mopey idiot over the fact that he doesnt get to have his fuckbuddy around 24/7.) absence makes the heart grow fonder or whatever and gordons already at a baseline of "wheres benrey. wheres benrey"......and now i am about to turn it up to 11
so lets say......gordons starting to feel weirdly under the weather. sweaty and irritable and tired. hes holing himself up in his room a lot, wrapping himself up in blankets to fight off a chill and a sniffliness that wont go away. and hes gettin awfully moody, too. real fuckin testy. starting shit with freemind for no reason and snapping at og gordon like hes a teenager. and......hes nesting, almost, or at least, gathering up a whole bunch of blankets and pillows and anything that smells vaguely like benrey. (hes not really aware hes doing this last thing.)
basically, long story short, feetman is fucked up. hes pathetic. hes being a huge bitch. at least og gordon feels vaguely sorry for him, and expresses this by way of observing him and trying to treat it. for science. its better than freemind, who just loudly complains about him being a huge bitch and reeking up the place. theres something weird coming from vr gordons corner of the house.....a musky, heady, hormonal kind of thing that makes freemind act simultaneously territorial and irritable and more lascivious than normal. and that also piques og gordons attention, because having both of them be wound up little freaks at the same time is enough to make even the most resilient person pull their hair out
now gordon primes got his suspicions as to whats going on, but hes not gonna tell vr gordon that he suspects hes going into heat. that would compromise the experiment, and all that. so poor gordons just going thru all this shit not knowing what in the fuck is wrong with him and getting more worked up and irritable about it by the day. hes convinced that hes just got the flu, or something......except, uh, haha, jesus christ he is horny all the FUCKING TIME
he doesnt get it! he feels like shit all the time, so why is he constantly fighting off boners and having weird wet dreams and thinking about-- well. his fucking boyfriend, he guesses. (are they boyfriends?? he doesnt know. he gets a weird, sharp pang when he thinks about them not being boyfriends, at this point, but its not like theyve ever talked about it!) gordons half-convinced that hes just losing his mind from being stuck inside all the time and he really just wants to see benrey again. its, like, all he thinks about. (see? hes losing it. theres the proof.)
the sucks thing for everybody else is that gordon is also Extremely Vocal about how shitty he feels and how much he wishes he didnt feel shitty so he could go see benrey and how much he cant stand benrey for not being able to read his mind and come over when he feels bad. eventually freemind gets so sick of his shit that he decides to cut out the middleman and get benrey involved directly. "come take care of your fucking dog before i call the aspca! animal neglect is a crime, asshole!"
(if pressed, freemind would adamantly reject the idea that hes being nice to gordon. but on some level, hes kinda sympathetic. the guys clearly miserable, and he just keeps asking for the same fucking thing. might as well humor him to shut him up.)
vr gordon is completely unaware of these machinations, however. hes just holed up in his room trying to work out what makes him feel better because, uhh, powerade isnt helping
jacking off doesnt do a whole lot for him anymore. like, it feels good, but its not very satisfying. gordon just ends up feeling more restless than anything afterward. and hes always stupid horny. more blankets. a box fan. less blankets. sleeping with one of benreys shirts pressed up to his face. grinding into his pillow when he wakes up hard from yet another weird dream. theyre all a little helpful, and he feels like hes working towards the right thing, somehow, but its never really enough to take the edge off
and then.....he tries......jerking off more. especially when he realizes that its bizarrely soothing to do so while he can smell benrey up close and personal on that stupid shirt of his. better still when he rolls onto his side.....and then his stomach.......rocking his hips into the mattress until he gets the idea to lift his hips a little. and......oh. cool. something kind of......clicks. in his head. as he raises his hips higher while he keeps his arms wrapped around a pillow and benreys shirt jammed against his nose. hes got that lil moment of realization that this is good, actually. this feels like a good move. and its making some of that discomfort melt away
and gordon thinks about.....how it felt. earlier. when they were with barmey. and benrey had him just like this, ass up, face down, and was spreading him apart and licking him open and making him submit and he groans so fucking hard that embarassment just rips through him like lightning. but his tail starting to wag a little faster.....electricity shooting through his belly......and he cant help but wonder. what if benrey had kept going? pulled back and-- maybe, replaced his tongue with his fingers, one at a time, curling them inside him and telling him how well hes behaving and-- and his dick throbs, hard, and gordon realizes he wants fingers inside of himself right fucking now, thank you, hes not fully certain how to accomplish it be he is going to fucking try
(sigh) so my guy figures out about the old fingers in the ass trick. and i need you to understand that i am fully convinced that this is one of those guys who has an uproarious reaction to getting fingers in his ass. mr repressed and uptight over here doesnt really get what the big deal is until he gets braver and pushes a little deeper and hes rock hard in an instant, goodbye, just like everybodys favorite creative writing exercise
and this is what he decides to do for a solid day or two without leaving his room, because, honestly, this is awesome. and the longer he spends jerking off the less time he spends stressing about the fact that his imaginations getting really vivid, here. sure, like, hes no stranger to weird dreams even before this, but this is the first time hes really letting his mind run wild and this dude is nonstop thinking about being bred and gordon still has no fucking idea that hes in heat. doesnt even occur to him
unfortunately this also does not solve his problems but at least it feels baller and it keeps him occupied. also, unfortunately, the increased rate of jerking off is causing a serious uptick in Dog Smells, the effect of which is turning freemind into a nightmare. its just not good vibes in this house. enter: benrey
now i need you to understand that when these two meet up again i want gordon to get Emotional. think about how genuinely excited he gets to see some of his pals in canon. the like......excitement and disbelief when benrey shows up outside his window throwing rocks at it before noclipping in. he forgets to even act pissed off at first. i think it would be super fucking cute for him to drop the game for a moment just out of shock, basically. his tails waggin, his ears are perked up, and hed probably tackle benrey to the ground if he wasnt also a sweaty, trembling mess whos been holed up in his room for days.
and benrey has No Fucking Idea what he has walked in on here. as far as benrey knows, freemind just demanded he get over there and take care of his dog.
(INTERLUDE: here is the part where i gin up a freemind POV of this exact scene. b/c i am out of my fucking mind
so. i had the thought of a freemind POV chapter where hes spying on gordon and benrey.....because. gordons in heat. ive talked about that scenario before too (literally so many FUCKING times okay i just need this dude to have the uncontrollable urge to be bred like a little bitch! and for benrey to take pity on him and make him feel better by nutting in him literally as many times as is physically possible!!!)
but i wanna manifest it in this specific way: from an outside perspective. voyeurism is great and also i have a one track mind and basically the only time i traffic in Other Guys in this fandom anymore is as a participant in gordon and benreys horse shit. Im not apologizing for this
lets say.....vr gordons behavior has been getting worse and worse for "unknown reasons" and freeman prime just sees it as a key observational opportunity for his research. while freeminds getting really irritated at how much its cutting into his normal way of life. for one thing, vr gordons room reeks, and he cant even escape it in his own room! and its turning him into a feisty, aggressive, and loud son of a bitch. but he cant even resolve it in his usual fashion at this point (baiting vr gordon into another competition/fuckfest) b/c gordons being a little sadsack holed up in his room and doesnt wanna play
but also.....he kinda just feels bad for the guy at a certain point. hes clearly really miserable and looks downright ill and all hes asking for is to see his boytoy again. (gordons convinced that hes dying, and feels the need to dramatically speak to benrey one last time before he croaks.) so freemind decides, in all his benevolence, to go over gordon primes head and drag the guy over there anyway. (with machinations, not his literal bare hands. what is he, a caveman?) he reasons that itll be a good opportunity to twist gordons arm into groveling at his feet later
and he spies on the two of them in gordons room.....why? idk. possibly something to do with investigating this relationship between a gordon and a barney that he had yet to fully analyze. tl;dr he gets trapped in their closet for a remix of that one barmey voyeurism chapter b/c why the fuck not
i just.....i dont know.....i think theres something really charming about a 3rd party not being able to fully make out what theyre saying or doing but piecing things together anyway.....like benreys weirdly soft tone of voice when hes talking to a super agitated gordon. as far as any of them know, hes not really like that. he either sounds bored or smug, but either way, its usually straight-up antagonistic
it would make freemind bristle to hear it b/c its almost a mocking tone, but.....it makes gordons shoulders drop and gets him to let go of some of that tension and thats probably fascinating to watch. literally soothing him like a stressed out dog, huh. smoothing back his hair and murmuring things in a low, even tone that freeminds enhanced hearing still isnt good enough to make out. (the guy mumbles, okay? he needs a fucking toastmasters meetup.)
it would equal parts horrify and fascinate freemind, in my onion. watching a version of himself fall that hard into the loyal pet role.....its pathetic! for all that gordon goes on about not being a slave to his instinct or whatever, he sure is doing a bad job of acting like it! its like watching himself, but worse.
and benreys having to soothe him like a startled animal b/c he doesnt even know whats wrong with himself, but theres something thick enough on the air that even benrey can smell it, and hes taking some stabs at the dark. especially with how charged some of the shit gordons saying is......"i cant fucking take it anymore", "you smell so good", "i dont know whats wrong with me, man, my dick hasnt gone down for days and im pretty sure i need a doctor-- no, a real one, not the other gor-- NOT a vet, JESUS"
and the whole time.....freeminds peeking from behind a closet door. watching them devolve from outright hostility into "gordon climbing into benreys lap and shoving one of benreys hands up his shirt and demanding that he fucking touch him already"
normally i dont think freemind would be averse to a little bit of voyeurism, here. if it was anybody else, hed probably at least engage in a little heavy petting. but this is getting weird, man. he cant shake the uncanny feeling that this is something too intimate for him to be watching. for one thing, gordons whimpering like a goddamn dog just from a little necking, and for two, hes never really been the kind of guy to watch people make out for 15 minutes before they get to the good stuff
its just kind of unsettling how much these two clearly really, really like each other at this point. its not like watching gordon prime give vr gordon a handjob as part of a "test". freemind expected more of a hatefuck kind of deal out of these two, what with how often gordons normally going on about how much he hates the guy, what a pain in the ass benrey is, how he just wishes benrey would stop jerking him around.....etc. freemind could shit himself right now. that lying bitch!
i imagine its also kind of painful, on a personal level, for him to watch this borderline-sappy shit. he cant even fathom being on the receiving end of that behavior, let alone from......well. theyve all got their barneys, right? and gordon primes basically doomed himself to incel status b/c he wont nut up and do anything about it. freemind just assumed they were all in the same boat: cursed to casual sex with their roommates/clones, forever, and unable to achieve any kind of intimacy b/c all 3 gordons are fucked up in the exact same way. since theyre all just diff flavors of the same fucking guy, right?
well, theres the evidence that hes wrong. and that vr gordons better than him, somehow. thats gotta suck, bro
anyway then he watches vr gordon get railed in the ass a bunch and jerks off anyway b/c its still hot. see ya)
“take care of your dog”. huh. hes got no clue what that means but, yknow, he does kinda miss his dog. hasnt seen gordon in awhile. and he immediately comments "wow. you look fucked up" in as blunt and unsympathetic a way as possible. but gordons so far gone that he cant even work up a good anger about it. he is pretty fucked up, man. and benrey sits on the bed and slaps his forehead with a palm to take his temperature (and that gets gordon to bitch at him, finally, that thats not how you do it, asshole) and judges that, uh, he is hot. in his expert opinion
and thats when gordon kinda grabs his sleeve and tugs it and starts tryin to say something. hes really bad at it, because he is having to perform the mortifying task of Owning Up To It, but eventually he manages to grind out that he needs benrey to touch him, please. just pet him. something. he feels really bad and he just needs benrey to scratch his fucking ears. this is the most gordon can cop to in one go, and it is such a sad struggle to watch, but benreys caught off guard by it and he feels weirdly bad for gordon upon hearing it so hes just like "whoa, okay" when gordon tugs his hand to his head
gordon groans the moment his fingernails start scratching behind the ears and digging into his scalp. even just that much feels really fucking good. its comforting, for one thing, and its benrey, for another, and the physical touch feels so fucking good right now that goosebumps are crawling down his neck. gordon cant help but lean against benrey and bury his head in the crook of his shoulder. he wants to hide his face from scrutiny and he wants to get closer but he doesnt know how to say what his fucking problem is
and benreys weirdly quiet. just kinda mumbling and shushing him intermittently, awkward and not sure what to do b/c this is a level of intimacy he was not expecting but gordons sure is responding nicely to a second hand in his hair
so having both of benreys hands scratching at his scalp is really getting to gordon. hes scritchin behind the ears and gordons tails wagging at a mile a minute. the feelings making goosebumps race down his neck and arms. he starts kind of mumbling something into benreys shoulder, how hes been feeling so fucked up lately, and he squirms a little closer. hes not really aiming for anywhere in particular but every neuron thats firing in him right now is telling him to get closer. make contact. he missed the fucking guy, what can he say.
and one of benreys hands......slips down to gordons face. his jaw. a thumb pushing into that soft little divot between his jaw and neck, like hes trying to push up into gordons fucking teeth. its weird and bizarrely intrusive, but benreys hand is broad and warm and gordon leans into it anyway, groaning with relief. its not like its not doing anything for him. kind of the opposite, actually. then he palms at gordons neck, and gordon starts breathing harder. he can feel his heartbeat rabbit-fast, pushing against benreys skin (and theres no way benrey isnt feeling that, too).
benrey eyes are lidded and his breaths starting to get heavier, too. naturally, yknow, since gordons practically draped over him right now, melting all the more the longer benrey keeps petting him. oxytocin is crazy, man, especially when a guys in the full throes of some kind of chemical meltdown of the glands. gordons eyes are screwed shut, tail thumping furiously against the bed, and hes panting at benreys neck like hes a fucking dog. he just doesnt know how to articulate what the fuck his problem is
benrey smells insanely good to him right now, and gordon just blurts that out. benrey gives him some shit for it, but when gordon only makes a weird noise in response and fists his hands in benreys hoodie, it makes him shut up real quick. hes squeezing out words about feeling like he needs something, but its clearly a fucking effort. its almost pitiful
so. gordons crawled right into benreys lap, too impatient after days and days of feeling like this (you know, being in heat, in so many words). hes been pounding off like crazy, that brand new collar of his strapped to his neck nearly every time b/c hes that desperate to feel… well. *benrey*. he cant fucking jerk off to thoughts of anything else - porn doesnt do it for him, and his fantasies slip right back to the same thing every single time. its frustrating! hes bisexual, for gods sake! its not like hes normally immune to the wiles of the Phat Ass White Girl, but lately he just keeps ending up on his hands and knees and whining benreys name into his pillow and he couldnt focus on a girls rack if he tried
point being. hes being awfully fucking demanding. (and also, hes wearing the collar *right fucking now)*. he shoves benreys hand up his shirt and shivers the moment he makes contact with gordons burning-hot flesh. and hes demanding that benrey touch him already, jesus, hes losing his mind! and benreys just crooning at him, “bossy, huh,” but hes scritching gordons ears and palming at his side and nosing at gordons neck and gordon starts to feel like hes melting into it. his protests at being talked down to are perfunctory at best
benrey licks a stripe up gordons neck and starts muttering his stupid horseshit right in gordons ear and it makes gordon clutch his shoulders so tight, claws digging into the meat of him. benreys kind of into it, though, and it just makes him laugh, low and harsh and right in gordons ear. that just makes gordons problem worse. he lets out quiet, nasal whines on every exhale, like a literal fucking dog.
he starts teasing, like, “haha, you’re *gagging* for it, bro,” but gordon doesnt respond with the defensiveness he expects. instead, its like opening a floodgate - he is, hes fucking *desperate*, okay, his dick hasnt gone down in days and he wants benrey so bad he cant see straight and he cant stop thinking about him and all of this comes tumbling out of him at once. gordons trying to press himself as close to benrey as he can physically get, legs straddling benreys lap and arms clutched tight around his back. and when benrey prods a little more, tells gordon to say what hes been thinkin about, gordon starts to pant, squeezing his eyes shut. but he cant bring himself to do anything more than choke and stutter on the words
hes half-hard in his underwear already (and, lets be be clear, he was only in boxer briefs and a tank top to begin with. hes sweating buckets and its the least amount of clothing he could get away with wearing around the house) and his tails thumping a mile a minute and hes so far gone, just from benrey talking down to him and kissing his neck and scratching his ears. but hes not budging yet, so benrey slides that hand on his ears over to his ponytail and *yanks*. tells him, “speak.” gordons dick twitches rapidly, and he lets out a sharp sound, and he finally says it: he needs benrey to *fuck* him, jesus
benrey lets out a harsh breath at that. “yeah? thats what puppy wants?” and the nickname should blister him, make him feel to embarrassed to continue, but gordons too desperate to care. he just starts spewing a litany of “god yes”s and “please”s. hes getting harder and harder, pressed up against benreys belly, and benrey can *feel* it. “good boy,” he mutters, and those claws dig harder, that panting gets louder and harsher
he slips a hand around to gordons back, rubbing slowly for a moment as if to soothe him, and then slides it under the back of gordons boxers. and lower still. starts rubbing at gordons hole. that gets a quiet “oh god” out of gordon.
gordon cant help himself - he rocks forward against benrey, just a little, rubbing his bulge against what he realizes is benreys *extremely* hard dick in his sweatpants. hes not the only one whos got it bad. but he *is* the only one whispering, “fuck, fuck, fuck,” as benrey pushes a little further, makes as if hes about to breach gordon dry. the poor guys so needy that he probably wouldnt even argue!
but benrey just stares at him, wide eyed and flushed, mouth hanging open a little. gordons so hot for this that it surprises the both of them.
anyway after some boring position finagling benrey coaxes gordon onto his hands and knees, running a broad hand down gordons shaking back. and he pulls back gordons tail, exposing him. its so fucking humiliating - gordons got his face buried in a pillow, and his ass in the air, and hes never felt so *vulnerable* before. he wants to argue, he wants to lift his head and look back to make sure that everythings, like, okay back there - benreys staring at his entire asshole, okay, and he wasnt exactly anticipating benrey making a house call to fuck him in the ass - but every time he lifts his head, or starts to say something neurotic about it, benrey chides him about it. clicks his tongue. tells him, “hey. dogs dont talk” or “i said *bow*, bro”.
for all his insisting that hes a real guy, that hes not just a dog, gordons feeling less and less like a human and more like something in thrall to his instincts. the condescension rankles like it always does, but doing what benrey tells him to feels good. feels natural. presenting himself like this feels like what hes *supposed* to do. it doesnt stop him from running his mouth entirely, but it helps to mitigate some of the embarrassment.
and then… benrey *licks*. gordon tenses and gasps. he doesnt know how benrey can stand it, its gotta be, like, unhygienic! but that didnt scare him off the last time they tried this, and its not like gordon hasnt thought about it since. hes thought about it a lot, actually. but hes been too neurotic to ask for it. benreys not stupid, though. hes a good dog owner (at least, so he thinks) and hes gonna take care of his dog. so he licks again, and again, pressing a little harder against gordons hole on each pass with the broad side of his tongue until he dares to breach it with the tip.
gordons rock hard again in an instant. his dick hangs between his legs and drips onto the sheets. he digs his fingers into the pillow now, tearing holes in its surface with those sharp nails of his, and he makes embarrassingly high noises that he muffles into into the pillow, too. hes tense, hes so fucking tense, he should be clamping down and making benreys task really fucking hard, but theres bright pink sweet voice dripping from his hole and benreys rubbing the side of his thigh in an effort to soothe him and both of these things work in tandem to get him to relax. and benrey works his tongue in further, further than a human ought to.
the tip was one thing, but it gets wider as benrey pushes it in, and its just as good as it was before - better, even, because now its just the two of them, just a master and his dog, and benreys the only one he wants to see him like this. bent over and whimpering. he cant— he cant stomach the thought of anybody else doing this to him. hell, there was a point once where the idea of stomaching *benrey* doing this to him would have made him laugh. but here he is. benreys fucking him open with his tongue and pressing against something thats making him see stars and gordon just wants *more*. he says it so sweet, too, voice growing hoarse and raw as he begs benrey to just fucking do it already, he doesnt wanna come like this!
gordon gets so worked up and emotional about it that benrey takes the time to scratch behind his ears again, shushing him and telling him to chill. benreys got him. hes been a good dog, and good dogs get treats. hearing the words “good dog” makes gordons entire body flush. thats all he wants, really. he wants to be a good dog. he wants to be *told*. he blurts out, “oh my god— say it again,” and benreys like, “huh? say what? youre gonna have to be more specific,” clicking the last syllable. it makes all the hairs on gordons head rise and prickle with shame. the best he can do is mumble it into his pillow.
benrey hears it, though, and tugs at gordons collar from behind, just enough to raise his head. “whassat? you want me to call you a good boy?” gordon cant bring himself to answer that directly, but his stupid body betrays him by making him whine. jesus christ, yes, thats all he WANTS! he needs benrey to be good and nice to him for once in his fucking life and give him what he wants instead of taking, taking, taking! but benrey just tells him that hes gonna have to earn it. gonna have to be *real* good for him. gordon could fucking snarl at that, but benreys pulling back to rub his dick between gordons cheeks and against his hole and that shuts him up pretty fast because hes *so close* to getting what he wants and hes not about to fuck it up now by running his big dumb mouth
and then… he starts to push in. that sweet voice has loosened gordon up enough to take even benrey, who, uh, is definitely the bigger of the two, in that regard. he goes slow, uncharacteristically so, and gordons chest heaves with the force of how hard hes breathing. a quiet string of “oh god”s spills out of him as he tries to crane his neck back to watch. the head breaches him with a strange popping sensation, and benrey groans, loud, as the rest of him slides in with little resistance in comparison. “good,” he pants in turn, “youre takin it so good,” and—
and gordon comes, in weak, aborted spurts. it snuck up on him. he clenches so fucking tightly that it winds benrey a little. he breathes out, “whoa. did you—” but gordon just begs him to shut up, keep going, hes not— hes not done yet, its always like this, its not *enough*. his dick barely even flags afterward, it just hangs there, achingly hard and dripping with cum. benrey cant even find it in himself to make fun of him. he wants it so fucking bad, doesnt he? and he feels so good, so fucking tight and slick around benrey that the only thought running through his head is “gotta take care of my dog gotta fuck my best friend gotta nut in him and make him howl”. so he pushes himself alllll the way in until theyre pressed together, skin to skin.
then he starts to move. slow, careful thrusts, more for benreys benefit than gordons. if hes not careful, hes gonna blow his load, right then and there, and hes trying to make it good for gordon, too, okay? unlike *some* of them, hes not gonna bust in two minutes and then spend the next half hour crying and trauma-dumping to the guy hes still got his dick inside of.
once he thinks hes got a grip, though, benrey starts fucking him in earnest, and that changes gordons vocalizations from weak little whimpers into something louder. less restrained. hes given up any pretense of being quiet so that his other selves dont hear that hes snuck his boytoy into his room. just loud, wordless moans on each thrust, initially muffled into the pillow but soon spilling into the wider room when he turns his head to catch his breath. the only words hes managing are “oh god” and “please” and “benrey, benrey, *benrey*”, and benrey just responds to him like, “yeah? thats good? fuuuck, bro, so good for me,” all short of breath and barely able to speak himself
he wants to see gordons face. he *needs* to see gordons face. needs to see what hes doing to him, needs to see that cute fuckin blush of his. so he tugs on gordons collar again, bringing him to his hands and knees properly instead of that bowing position. and then further still - pulls him back so that benreys on his knees, and gordons on his knees in turn, on his lap, cock still buried inside of him and fucking him in short, hurried thrusts. “paws up,” benrey tells him, and gordon does it. instantly. no resistance. just folds them at his chest like a real dog would.
“whos a good boy?” benrey croons, right in his ear again. gordon gasps, “i-i am!”
“yeah? youre a good boy?” nod, wail. “whose— whose good boy are you?”
and gordon chokes on his response. he cant say it, he *cant*, he doesnt want to be benreys but he does, he *does*. he doesnt want to be benreys because its not fucking fair! he cares so fucking much! so much more than benrey does, it feels like, obsessing over the guy like hes wrapped thorny vines all around gordons heart and he cant so much as shift in his seat without feeling the tug and the ache and thinking of benrey again. and benrey doesnt care, he never fucking cares, except—
except he showed up at gordons house, in his room. without even being asked. like he knew something was wrong. and he— hes always talking to gordon, shooting him stupid texts just to make him laugh. scheduling *date nights* for them. date nights where, yeah, maybe they couldnt see each other in person, and maybe they always end in some kind of depraved sexual act, but its not like gordons not into it. hes frighteningly into it, actually. and hes *so* into hearing benreys voice, low and crooning, right in his ear, and seeing him lean on an elbow and smile at him afterward. its— its practically genuine. and benreys always making excuses to talk with him, do things with him, watch stupid fucking movies that only gordon cares about and stream with him on twitch to help boost his subscriber count and—
and—
oh god. maybe he *does* care. that might be more terrifying than the alternative.
then benrey yanks the collar again. presses the whole of gordons back against his front in one hot, unbroken line. and asks, “i said, whose good boy are you, bro? *speak.*”
“benrey,” he blurts out, a ragged moan, “d-dont make me sa-AY it, oh god—”
“no?” benrey stills suddenly. his hands keep gordon stuck in place, unable to move or bounce or feel benrey shift inside of him. “thats, uh… thats too bad, friend. this trains for good boys only. good dogs go to heaven 2. no bad dogs allowed. gonna have to, uhh, escort you off—”
“im not a bad dog!”
“i dunno, gordo. bein’ kind of, uh… disobedient.”
(sorry. thats all i got . byeeee)
#this is so far from finished b/c A) im a coward now and B) typing qith my left hand sucks so i dont wanna do it right now. Sorry#writin stuff
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diving deep down — g.w.
Summary: Sometimes you just needed to know that you’re not alone in this world.
Words: 1,726 words
Warnings ⚠ : TW implied depression, TW mental health, TW drowning, mentions of lack of breath, TW implied suicide, Read At Your Own Risk, platonic!george, neutral!reader, mentions of crying, Angst, Happy ending (sort of), comfort!au
Disclaimer: I am sad for a few days now so here I am, writing yet another comfort fic. Please note that if you’re struggling and you need someone to talk to, my messages is always open for you. I love you all so much, you’re not alone. Comments andReblogs are appreciated, enjoy!
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It was a quiet night at the Astronomy Tower, most of the students had gone to sleep and there were very few prefects patrolling the school hallways.
You felt at peace.
There was just something about being alone on the Astronomy Tower that feels so... intimate. At this point, it had become a personal spot for you to just come and lay down on the floor, and stare up to the sky. Sometimes the sky would give you a show, a comet shower on rare days or a bright full moon on the other. And sometimes even the sky needs rest, yet still gifting you a night of clouds and rain, lullabying your thoughts to slumber.
Nothing to do up here actually, but that’s what you desired. To do nothing, to wait for nothing, to talk nothing, to be expected of nothing, to expect nothing. In the life of yours that is full of ups and downs like merciless tidal waves of the bottomless ocean crashing upon your small wooden ship, doing absolutely nothing is the spine that holds your sanity in a piece.
In peace.
None of your friends knew about this spot of yours when you're stressed or disheveled, or simply need some time alone. But you're quite fond of it; the thought of them not knowing. Don't get me wrong, you absolutely adore your friends, but alone time is needed very badly for a while. To just be yourself and calm down without the bickering noises or the loud laughter or the constant jabs or the playful sneers.
What you didn't know, though, was one of your friends had kept his eye on you. Every week after dinner, you would always disappear right after dinner to Godric knows where. And George always wondered where you’ve had been.
"So this is where you disappear to every other night," George's voice startled you as you flinched slightly. "Bloody hell, Weasley..." You groaned as you massaged your chest, trying to ease your fast-beating heart from the shock.
"Sorry 'bout that," George muttered and cleared his throat, walking over to sit next to you. You watched him sit down and looked up to the tower's internal dome, "Wow, someone hasn't dusted that ceiling for a while."
You rolled your eyes at his quiet remark, you assumed he's talking to himself in the hushed tone he did. "So, what do you do here?" He asked you, turning to you curiously.
“Nothing.”
He raised an eyebrow, “Nothing like... literally or figuratively?” You sighed quietly, “Literally nothing. I just like to lay down here, stare up to the ceiling or the skies, and take a break from everything,” You briefly explained.
You laid down on your back, hands on the back of your head as you stare up to the dark sky. You saw from the corner of your eyes that he followed you suit, laying down beside you with his arms as his headrest. You glanced at him, he was looking up to the sky with a blank expression, causing you to furrow your eyebrows.
You had expected him to say ‘How boring’ or any other sassy remark, but George just stayed silent, being by your side without any other word. And when he did speak, all he said was:
“Do you mind if I join you any other time?”
You pursed your lips at his ask of permission. As much as you would like to have company, the Astronomy Tower has become your safe space for a long while. Suddenly sharing it with someone else, and whisk away the peacefulness and serenity, you only fear for the tidal waves to grow bigger by time; before swallowing you whole like a beast it is created to become.
“I... I don’t know, George. I like it when it’s just me up here,” You answered honestly, sighing heavily, “Let’s just say that this spot is my safe space, and by sharing my safe space with someone, I might lose my mind.”
“I-I don’t expect you to understand so I don’t care if—” “I do understand, so don’t sweat about it.” “... What?” George turned to you with a smile, “I understand, Y/N. You don’t need to explain it to me, I get it,” He said gently, before turning his head back to the sky.
“Sometimes... A safe space is all you need to escape for a while; to make sure that you won’t run away for good.”
You looked at him with narrowed eyes, “Do-do you...” You trailed off, not wanting to say what it was in your mind. It’s impossible, George has everything he wanted in his life, fame, a loving family, loyal friends, great pranks. His life is incredible.
But with only a somber look he sent your way, you figured that you might be wrong.
“George...” You trailed off, not knowing what else to say. He uncomfortably chuckled, “You know, sometimes I think to myself, why do I feel like this? When I have an amazing family, a supportive twin brother, great friends, and incredible pranks to accomplish. But what I learned over the past few years...” He paused, licking his lips slowly.
“... is that the monster chooses randomly. It chooses without criteria, without any care of the good things in your life. If it chooses you, then so be it.”
You wish to say you don’t know what he’s talking about. But you do, oh you do very well.
“... You could be having a wonderful time with your friends, and when it touches you, everything vanishes and all you could think of are the bad thoughts,” You spoke quietly. George turned to you, huffing a sad smile at the mere thought of you understanding him.
So you’re like him.
“Yeah, what an arsehole,” George tried to joke to lighten up the mood, but the smile on his lips didn’t really last long. “... I don’t even know why it chooses me. Out of all people in the world, it chooses me to be the host of these-these crumbling thoughts...” You continued, eyebrows furrowing at the frustration brewing inside of you.
“And they stayed,” George muttered. You sighed, “For a while, too.” George huffed a cynical smile, “It’s giving us such a cruel game to play. Winning or losing, but at what cost?” You blinked slowly, feeling your heart ache heavily at the thought of your friend suffering as much as you do, or even more than you thought.
“... Everything.”
“Truth to be told...” You trailed off, gulping at the nerves you had to say this sudden confession to George. “I think I’m losing the game,” You whispered, wishing to God that he wouldn’t hear you so you won’t have to repeat yourself.
“Why would you feel that?” His soft voice didn’t do you any justice.
“At first, I found the feelings as silly, so I brushed them away,” You bit your lips, still debating whether you should tell him or not. Whether you should burden him with your feelings or not. “I kept getting these thoughts one by one and I thought I can endure it but it just,” You find your eyebrows furrowing at the lump of your throat growing bigger and bigger, “it keeps coming and coming and coming until I had to accept them all at some point at the same time and I just... I felt so out of breath,” The words coming out of your mouth were getting faster as time passed by as if if you don’t let them out in time, they’ll never come back out again.
The dams of your tears had broken down. Your chest was heaving up and down without rhythm and you felt your lungs constricting all the air you had.
“They’re- they’re choking me and I can’t breathe I- I feel like I’m drowning, I’m diving deep down in the ocean and-and I can’t swim and slowly and slowly and slowly I- I can’t see the light anymore and I- I’m losing the game, George! I’m losing the game-” Your voice had cracked and you were sobbing on the floor, the desperation in your voice was so painful for George to hear, he felt like your words had created a mirror; broken down into little pieces of sharp-edged glass. And each one of them had struck him straight into his heart.
But his hand gripped yours securely.
You looked down to the intertwined hands, and you looked up at him already staring at you, “You’re not losing the game, Y/N,” His voice; firm yet trembling, the glint in his eyes tells you that he’s saying this not only for you, but for himself as well, “You’re fighting it.”
“You’re fighting it, and you are so strong for doing so. The cruelest game to be created, and you’re fighting through it. You’re fighting, like the fighter you are,” George’s sudden words of encouragement caused you to feel your chest constricting. Your eyes suddenly feel heavy with teardrops, you felt heard. You felt needed. You felt supported.
So with tears still rolling down your cheeks, you squeezed George’s hands, “Like the fighters we are,” You voiced out, a small, quivering smile on your lips. George felt warmth in his insides, grateful to have an understanding and supportive friend like you. He nodded and cracked a wide grin; amidst all the tears rolling down and wetting the floor, “Like the fighters we are.”
You stared at his bloated eyes and red nose, smiling to yourself gratefully, “I don’t know how you do it,” You said honestly. “What? Staying alive? I’m scraping on the floor,” George deadpanned, causing you to laugh at the sudden brutal honesty.
George scoffed a curious smile at you, wiping away his tears, “Is my agony funny to you?” You couldn’t stop laughing so you only nodded, causing you to be shoved at the shoulder with a dramatic “Hey!”
It only caused you to laugh more, unfortunately for George.
He watched as you laughed at him, and without him knowing it, he was laughing with you. As the both of you calmed down, you smiled gratefully at him, your hand squeezing his again, “At least we’re not diving deep down in the ocean.”
“Well, this time,” George turned back to the sky, the first genuine smile on his lips of the night, “We’ll fight our best not to.”
TAGLIST:
@multifandom-but @sirenswhispers @lilac-skies-xd @obsessedunicorn24 @foggyturtleknightangel@evewithluv@softlyqoos @fandoms-pizza-wifi-ym13 @lilypad-55449 @fiantomartell @hopemalfoyweasley @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @bucketandpotato@klausdatprettyboi @adoregin @littlechillies @phuvioqhile @sweetnspicysimp @wand3ringr0s3 @harrypotter289 @emptyporsche @tallyovie @the-unmanaged-mischief @missmulti @gcdricreads @moonvicake @amourtentiaa @lunalovecroft @loveboyhalo @lupinsclassroom @breadqueen95 @iwritesiriusly @weasleyclaw @sevsbitxh @freds-slut @acosmis-t @colorfulprofessornickelangel @vote4weasleys @anchoeritic@alluringshawn @cute-sidney@anna-banana-13 @lostaurorax @emrysts @rosietoesy @lilgeorgie78 @prismarts @an2402lths
#george weasley#harry potter#george weasley x reader#george weasley x you#george weasley imagine#george weasley angst#tw suicide#tw mental health#tw safe space
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Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E116-119 (Dec. 15, 2020)
Hi! I missed the first three minutes or so and opened the stream to Brian giving an absolutely incoherent ...ad? for some jewel game? Six thousand jewels just for logging in? Some app in the app store and he’s literally been talking about this now for six minutes and I don’t know what he’s talking about. He finally wraps up, Laura brings the show to a close, and we’re all a little worse than we were before.
Ashley tries to get us back on track and Henry bays over her. Brian tries to ask the first question and breaks off into feigned sobs halfway through. This is chaos incarnate.
Tonight’s guests: Laura Bailey & Ashley Johnson.
How’s Yasha feeling right now about Molly? She and Jester both are desperately curious about whether there’s a spark of Molly left in Lucien that can be brought back. It’s not the same as when Yasha was controlled by Obann; this seems more like just the way this is now. They’d settle for even finding the good in him, like they did with Essek. Brian jokes that they can monitor his mental state if Matt’s Irish accent starts to slip a little bit.
Jester is a little wary about scrying on Lucien now since he’s able to see her back. She’s interested to try again now that Fjord’s given her the necklace.
Ashley has to run and grab a replacement set of headphones from Brian after hers get “crunchy.” It’s pretty cute seeing them run around and smooch on another screen. Brian teases that he doesn’t have any more questions for Jester since Caduceus has been doing all the healing lately. Laura tells us indignantly that she had Heal prepared for Caduceus in that last big fight, but Fjord got to Cad first. Brian explains how this is the same as all the good jokes he always lines up for Talks but never tells. Ashley’s crunchiness continues and we go briefly to a technical difficulties screen while Brian hops up to fix it.
Dani pips in to get this show back on track. Save us, Dani!
Ashley hadn’t thought about the aspect of Lucien controlling his friends’ minds, but finds it really creepy. It’s a cool game dynamic, and it’s a little different because they’re there willingly, but it’s really weird.
Jester thinks that “the tarot cards know all. She wants to buy into it real hard.” If it doesn’t make sense now, it will later. Laura has an Idiot’s Guide to Tarot Reading.
They’re super interested in why Aeor is like it is. Were they more advanced than us? Did they evolve along a different line? Ashley loves sci-fi and is all about this, especially since she wasn’t there for Happy Fun Ball time & hasn’t been able to get caught up on some of the things she missed in between, so she’s using this as an erstwhile replacement. She can already tell there are some things from this campaign that will bother her the way the unopened box did from C1. She and Laura both seethe at the camera about having to leave the spider behind.
Cosplay of the Week! Harland3r on instagram with a gorgeous winged Pike with a shield & mace. It’s an incredible photo and the wings look great.
Travis distracts Laura by dancing like a Trex offscreen. That seems right for this episode.
Jester’s encouragement of Yasha pursuing Beau was important in a lot of ways, not least because Ashley considered herself as uninterested in D&D romance as Travis & was a little unsure of activating a romance among her friends. However, it felt really natural within the game and it was really helpful to have Jester’s in-game encouragement. Yasha’s grown a lot and is in a much more positive place and is ready to find out what’s possible. Laura: “Jester from the get-go has seen Yasha as this wonderful soul from the beginning, and has seen how sad Yasha’s been through everything, and to see the difference that she exhibits when talking about Beau is drastic and wonderful. Jester’s joy in life is helping others find joy.”
Ashley points out it’s also so fun to “yes-and” with Laura because you’re like a little kid being dragged along by the hand - you don’t know where it’s going, but you know it’s going to be fun along the way.
Ashley does have a sense of “thank goodness Marisha isn’t jumping right into this” so she can coax herself into it, but when she tried to figure out the poem she had a lot of drafts that didn’t survive. She intentionally crafted the letter to give Beau an out if she didn’t feel the same way. There’s a lot going on with Lucien right now and there’s constantly a running thought in the back of her head about “maybe Beau is not into this.” Even the last couple episodes with Jester & Fjord have had Ashley finally understand shipping.
Brian brings us to the moment “almost as romantic as the pre-season finale of the Bachelorette.” Jester was “goo” afterwards. Early on in the campaign, Jester was very forward with her flirtations with Fjord & he shut her down. And then he kissed her underwater and immediately went and slept with Avantika, and Jester automatically shut herself down, because she thought she was misunderstanding & would only be hurt by those emotions. She deliberately focused on just being there with her friends, making everyone healthy and happy. These last few episodes where Fjord was flirting back felt like “my teenage heart again, my first kiss, the boy I like actually likes me back!” and she was able to open back up.
Yasha definitely has some instrument plans for those bones. She doesn’t know if she’s going to add to her harp or create a new one.
Ashley and Laura cheer about Travis stepping out his comfort zone. Laura thinks it was really good that he was doing it with her, his real-life wife, to see if he likes that sort of stuff in his D&D campaign. “It was just so sweet. It was just so sweet.” Brian says he’s actually a really romantic dude & Dani is so glad he asked before the kiss. Brian: “It’s going to be so sad when he breaks your heart and goes back to the corpse of Avantika.” Laura: “It’s fine, Jester will be long dead by then anyway.”
Jester does believe the four-year time trade was worth it, but that the city leaves “a mark on your brain,” especially as in-depth as she saw it. “Jester’s always been reticent to talk about her age because she’s aware she’s perceived in a juvenile way by a lot of people, and she’s insecure about that. She grew up by herself without a lot of social interactions and is experienced in a lot of ways now and naive in others; she’s very aware of human emotion around her, but chooses to see it in a certain way.” Losing the time makes her wonder if she needs to grow up & become an adult about certain things now. Laura: “I think actually she’s closer to Fjord’s age now. Actually, I’m not sure about his age. I don’t know how old he is - I’ve never even asked Travis!” Brian: “I think he’s definitely fifteen.” Laura: “Travis, how old is Fjord?” Travis, off-screen: “Sixty-five,” but he’s had the Mask of Many Faces up this whole time. Later, he adds that he’s in his early 30s.
Ashley has really enjoyed digging into Yasha’s more humorous side lately. It’s how she gets comfortable as a player, making it fun and light in a way that this year needs. “It’s also really funny to think that Yasha doesn’t know how Message works.”
Brian congratulates Laura & Ashley both on their game awards nominations. Brian vamps trying to get himself in as the presenter, but incidentally refers to Laura as his sister in the conversation and it’s super cute. “I would like to be the one to give the award to either my fiancee, or my sister!”
Fanart of the Week: @ethanmaldridge with an illustrated page from the Katzenprinz book. It’s just beautiful.
Jester’s polymorph gambit was terrifying, but the stakes got even higher when everyone else got stunned. She does lament choosing a bunny at the start. “Frickin’ Fjord’s armor!”
Yasha loves being polymorphed lately. She thinks it’s kinda funny, especially given her rigid upbringing with such defined roles.
Laura feels like Jester and Vex are weirdly two halves of herself. Brian: “You see the very bargainy, I’m gonna use my wit & smarts to negotiate situations. But at the same time, you’re very open to what people are thinking & feeling and navigating that. What you end up putting out (though it comes across as innocent and naive) is something pure because she truly believes it.” Laura thinks Yasha and Pike are the same way for Ashley, though Ashley feels a little closer to Yasha right now. Sometimes you just feel really exposed. Laura compares how much idealism she put into Jester to her character from Fruits Basket.
Since Yasha didn’t belong to either side in the war, she’s not hugely concerned by the fallout; she more wants to make sure her found family are okay and safe. Jester is the same way, Laura tells us. Jester doesn’t have any greater vision of the Empire & Dynasty interacting; she cares about the people, and it hasn’t been until the vision with the city that she kind of woke up and realized they have to really stop this now. It feels bigger than the Dynasty/Empire. Ashley: “It seems more of a thing for Beau and Caleb to care about.”
Really, up to now Jester was mostly concerned about getting Molly back, but now the stakes seem much higher. “We have to do this. We have to complete this, to beat them, to keep them from doing this.” Yasha is just going with the flow for now. There’s a lot coming at them and they are ready to find out what’s next.
And that’s that for tonight! Brian thanks the crew especially for working incredibly hard on switching everything to home-based streaming. He then gets stuck halfway spinning around in his chair and the last thing we hear is him idly wondering “What’s Fjord taste like?” which seems pretty on brand for tonight’s show. Is it Thursday yet?
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the glow up (6) | kth, pjm
pairing: taehyung x reader, jimin x reader
summary: after going off to college, you & your best friend committed to working out. a year later, the results show, and you cant wait for your hot hometown friends to see you. now all you wanna do is wild out and have lots of sex, and enjoy it without feeling insecure
genre: angst, smut, childhoodfriends!au weightloss!au (is that a thing) friends-to-lovers!au
word count: 3k
warnings: cheating, explicit smut: heavy making out...like HEAVY, in a pool, oral (f receiving), shower sex, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, slow burn, feelings, slut shaming, slight exhibitionism, alcohol use, choking, small daddy kink, taehyung calls you princess, swearing
part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 masterlist
Taehyung let his feet sink into the water, warmed by the body heat from the many ex-classmates of his who populated the pool. He stared out onto the horizon, the suburban hills a largely underwhelming contrast to the party vibes. He felt a presence come beside him, and the overwhelming designer perfume scent let him know it was Hobi.
“What’s up champ? Got eyes on anyone tonight?” Hobi asked, placing his hand on Tae’s back playfully. Taehyung simply sighed.
He was playing a losing game. He knew from the moment he kissed you that it was a mistake. He knew you would pick Jimin in the end, and he would get heartbroken.
But somehow he couldn’t deny you. Whenever you would text to hang out, his heart would flutter. He did his best to make as much time for you as he could this summer, soaking up every word you said, every smile you sent his way. He knew you just wanted him to have sex. But he enjoyed your company more than you knew.
He was an idiot. He pushed you too far too fast, he understood more than anyone why you needed freedom to explore your body and sexuality. You had insecurities you needed to deal with. You weren’t ready. You never were.
“I don’t think so…maybe I’ll just double team with Jungkook” Taehyung faked a laugh. Hobi gave him a fist bump.
“Fucking Jimin almost started a fight with him, so I sent them and Y/n inside to sort their shit out” Taehyung felt his stomach flip.
“Oh yeah” He couldn’t even find it within himself to pretend to look amused. He was pouting. He didn’t even care. He knew exactly what Jungkook was likely going to make of the situation, and he knew you would let him. Jungkook, like him, was more promiscuous, and had a bad reputation behaving with girls, but he never expected him to treat an old friend the same way. He called him out, but Jungkook did not have any apologies.
“She likes it Tae. I guarantee it” Jungkook had said before Taehyung almost punched him in the face.
“I hate this” Taehyung muttered, tilting his head up as he felt his eyes getting wet. The prospect of you having sex with Jungkook hurt him a bit too much. He shouldn’t care, it was your life. You guys weren’t exclusive at all. He hadn’t been loyal to you either. “What the fuck is wrong with me?” Taehyung groaned in frustration. Hobi chuckled.
“You’re in love with her”
Taehyung clenched his fists. He hated that he understood what you were going through. He hated that he was able to read your every thought and understand your every desire. He hated what you were doing to him.
“You should at least tell her. She probably doesn’t think she has a genuine shot with you. Let her know her options.”
“She’s not gonna pick me over Jimin” Taehyung laughed, “Jimin is her best friend. She literally can’t go a fucking week without him. Even if she dated me, she would still go to him for everything because he knows her better”
“You should give yourself more credit. From what I’ve heard anyway, Jimin’s been sort of a little bitch to her about all this. Some people are just meant to be friends, others maybe something more. Let me tell you…” Hobi wandered off onto a tangent about his own relationship and Taehyung tuned out. He downed the bitter watery beer left over in his cup, mentally noting to go for something stronger next time. His phone vibrated.
jungkook: ur girls tits are fire
Yeah. He definitely needed something much stronger
You woke up slowly to the sound of a booming base, realizing quickly that the party was still going on. You tried to turn but Jimin’s cock was still inside you. You smiled.
“Jimin, wake up” You called out softly, reaching your hand to stroke his head which was lazily muffled into your neck. He mumbled something incoherent, the vibrations of his voice on your skin making you blush. His body was sticky with sweat and you were both a mess. “Let’s freshen up, I don’t wanna miss the whole party come on” You nudged him and he stirred. You slowly rolled away, his cock sliding out of you causing him to groan in frustration, reaching out blindly for you on the mattress.
“Where’d you goooo” He complained, his eyes finally opening slightly. Seeing your naked figure sitting besides him he simply couldn’t help but feel like the luckiest guy in the world.
“I’m gonna go freshen up.” You informed him, kissing his forehead slightly. “I feel gross”
Jimin sat up and cupped your face. “Y/n…wait…let’s just sort this out. I hated what just happened okay. I’m sorry but I did. I don’t want to share you. Be my girlfriend. Let’s fucking just date. I’m sorry I’ve been moody and a jerk, but beyond all that you know I adore you more than anyone in the world. No amount of distance has been able to get in the way of you and me. Let’s try this out. Let’s date”
The look in his eyes was pleading, like he was a frail piece of glass that was about to shatter. Your gut screamed no. Say no. But your heart did not want to see that light in his gaze fade. You nodded your head.
“Yeah…let’s date”
-
You found yourself back at the pool. The sun had set, and the rainbow colored lights made the place look magical. You really wanted to dance, the music was loud and the songs were perfect. You should feel happy, you finally had a boyfriend. But instead you felt like someone was choking you— you couldn’t breathe. You looked across the pool to see a drunk Taehyung splashing around wildly with a few girls. He wrapped his hands around one and spun her around, giggling like a mess. You wanted to be her. You wanted to play and goof off but you couldn’t.
Unknowingly a tear ran down your cheek. You put your hands in your palms, allowing your tears to fall freely. Why were you so unsatisfied? You had the perfect guy in your hands, so why were you unhappy?
You felt a wet hand on your knee, quickly wiping your eyes to see Taehyung in the water below you. He was shirtless, hair soaked, a drunken gleam in his eyes.
“Are you okay?” He asked sweetly. You had no idea how he was managing to be nice while he was drunk. Taehyung was a wild drunk, you knew this well.
“It’s okay, don’t worry about it” You stated dryly. You couldn’t bear to look at Taehyung too long, you just felt like breaking down even more. Taehyung sighed and pulled you into the pool.
“Let it happen” He whispered, bringing you into his embrace. He rand his wet hand through your hair before holding the back of your head and pulling you in for a kiss. “Don’t think. Just don’t think” His words brushed up against your lips. You moaned into his mouth, your arms finding their way around his neck, pulling yourself as close to him as you possibly could get. Taehyung held you tight and floated the two of you towards the back of the pool.
You couldn’t stop, your lips attached like magnets. He kissed you long and sweet, and you responded to his every move with even more eagerness. Your pulse races, and you felt a tingling sensation run through your chest as you shut your eyes, focusing on the hot feeling of his mouth against yours. He paused, barely aware from your face to inhale quickly. His sparkling eyes were gorgeous under the florescent lights, his pink hair almost glowing against the darkness. “Hold your breath” You nodded quickly as he captured your lips again and dragged you under the water.
The music went quiet, everything was still. All you could feel was wetness and Taehyung all over you. You let your hands find his face holding your mouth against him. Your lungs constricted as you lost air but you didn’t care. It was serenity. Taehyung’s hands moved to your hips and as if you could read his mind you wrapped your legs around his waist.
He picked you up and rose you back above the water. You both gasped for breath, smiling wide into each other’s eyes before kissing yet again. You looked around quickly to see that quite a few people were staring at you guys, which only made you smile even wider. Taehyung watched your gaze and giggled slightly.
“You just love putting on a show don’t you princess”
You turned to admire the man who held you. His soaked hair, gorgeous eyes and toned body. His lush lips and sweet voice. He winked at you and you felt your heart explode, blushing furiously. You buried your face into his chest in embarrassment. Taehyung motioned for the crowd of observers to leave the two of you alone as he rested his back against the pool wall, continuing to hold you close.
Taehyung stroked your cheek like you were a prized gem that he couldn’t believe he got his hands on. When your eyes met again your blood rushed and you kissed him furiously, whimpering softly. “Easyyy princess”
“I can’t get enough” You exhaled, barely able to speak. Your lips throbbed, swelling from the contact but you just wanted more. “Tae let’s get out of here. I want you” Your tongue traced his mouth and you softly bit his bottom lip, dragging it teasingly.
Taehyung hesitated, as if the liquid courage in his veins drained at the reality that you were not his to have. He could never say no to you. You were too amazing. He loved you far too much.
“Whatever you want princess” He playfully bit at your nose before lifting you out of the pool. You got out, water dripping from your clothes and helped drag Taehyung up as well. He grabbed himself a towel, rubbing it through his hair, and you almost drooled. He then grabbed another one and wrapped it around your shoulders so that it covered your chest.
Hobi walked over to the two of you, clapping his hands. “Wow what a performance. That was hot” He pinked your cheek playfully and smiled fondly. “You two are more than welcome to use my room” You stiffened, remembering what all had transpired on Hobi’s bed earlier. Suddenly the water on your body felt heavy. You felt gross.
“Think I could use a shower first” Taehyung stated, patting your ass lightly and squeezing it. He winked at Hobi who nodded. Taehyung took your hand into his and led you down to Hobi’s bathroom. Unbeknownst to Taehyung, you tried to hide your face with your towel. After all, Jimin was still around here somewhere. And you totally just cheated on him.
Hobi’s bathroom was as impressive as the rest of his house. The shower was spacious, clear glass walls and marble tile. Taehyung began to peel off his drenched attire. He then proceeded to undress you, almost tearing your tube top as it stubbornly stuck to your skin.
You had forgot how drunk Taehyung was but he reminded you soon enough, as your tits popped out and he went right to them, growling as he sucked harshly. His fingers found your clit and started to explore your folds, causing you to limply fall further into his embrace. He stopped to look into your eyes again, unaware of the heat soaring through your cheeks.
“Do you want to try something?” He said, his words beginning to slur slightly. You nodded and he smirked, pulling you into the shower, and turning the warm rain on. Taehyung dropped to his knees, pressing you against the glass wall and began to kiss your clit softly, letting his tongue peak through and flick against it. Your hands found his hair and your pushed his head towards you as he let his tongue slide out more, lathering you up and licking every crevice. Sensation was building up with every move and you felt like your chest would explode. It felt so good, but you missed the feeling of his body against yours.
“Tae…tae…kiss me” You pleaded. He spat on your pussy and used his tongue to mix his saliva with your arousal. You twitched as his he became harsher. “Tae”
He was not listening, too engrossed in eating up every last drop of you. He sucked, pushed his tongue into your core, pushing your thighs further and further apart. You felt your orgasm approaching, but you didn’t want to cum yet. You wanted to look into his eyes. You wanted to feel his lips on your body. The shower continued to hit your chest, rolling down onto Taehyung’s head. He rose up, licking his lips, with a feral look in his eyes. He grabbed your neck and brought his face close to you. His grip tightened and you squirmed, unsure of what he was about to do.
He watched as droplets of water trickled down from your forehead, over your supple blushed cheeks, down your bruised lips, off your chin and down the valley of your heaving breasts. “I love you” His breath hitched. “I love you y/n” He choked you harder, your breath escaping you. He let his nose drag against your face, from your ear down your neck. He bit into your collar, sucking your skin harshly to mark you.
“Taehyung I can’t breathe” You yelped. He released his grip and you took a deep breath. Your vision was hazy, the hot fumes of the water and the lack of oxygen pushing you into a feeling of light headedness. Taehyung wasted no time in pinning your hands above you and slowly pushing his now rock hard cock into you.
You couldn’t really feel what was happening, desperately trying to breathe as Taehyung bottomed out. His chest pressed against yours and his lips barely an inch from yours. Keeping one hand holding yours, he gripped your hips with the other and began pummeling into you roughly. He smacked your thigh when he felt you try to close your legs, your pussy sore from the harsh movements. He began to slow down, rolling his hips more so you could really feel his cock hit you in all the best places.
Your pussy clenched, causing him to moan out. “Is my little princess gonna cum on my cock? Gonna cum on daddy’s big cock hm? Your such a little whore for me. You love the way daddy’s dick feels in your little tight pussy don’t you? Hm?” He growled into your ear, his words sending you further and further over the edge. His thrusts became slow but harsh, as he grunted with each one, feeling his cock go as deep inside you as it could.
A wave of shock washed over you as your reached your high, your body twitching immensely. Taehyung began to rub your clit furiously as he felt you orgasm, helping you through it. You screamed out with pleasure, Taehyung cooing at you to keep going. Your ecstasy did not relent, his rapid fingering pushing you straight into another orgasm causing you to yell out his name like a prayer.
Taehyung rested his chin on your shoulder, holding you with both his hands now and let you grab his hair. He pounded into your drenched pussy as you both continued to soak under the pouring shower. “Say it…tell me you love me y/n…or are you really just the little whore they all say you are” He bit the lobe of your ear, making you gasp out at the unexpected rush of pleasure.
“Taehyung…fuck you feel so good” You whimpered at the overstimulation. You felt Taehyung smile. What you couldn’t see was Taehyung head lifting up to make eye contact with a certain someone at the door of the bathroom.
Now fully awake from his nap, Jimin stood, shocked at what he was seeing. The way you were so intimately being fucked by Taehyung, the way you moaned out his name, the way your hands were clenched in his hair as water poured down on the both of you. Taehyung’s eyes were sinister. His smirk as he continued to whisper sweet nothings into your ears.
“Say it princess. Say you love me.” He mumbled, thrusting in extra hard and making you scream.
“I…” You couldn’t think straight, feeling a second high coming, “Fuck…more Tae more…I’m so close, you feel so good. Taehyungggg” You panted feverishly, “Yes baby, I love you, I love you so much. I love you more than anything baby ahhhh” The orgasm hit you, and your pussy squeezed Taehyung’s cock so violently that he came then and there too, all while not looking away from Jimin for a second. Taehyung then kissed you, continuing to hold you against the glass.
“I love you” You panted, cupping his cheeks as he kissed you softly. Jimin felt like he was going to throw up. He couldn’t see your eyes—he didn’t even want to. His heart was absolutely shattered.
He felt tears coming on strong. This was his soul mate. His best friend. Did she really not love him back? Was this really happening? Jimin clenched his fists. Memories of your sweet laugh, your endless nights with him talking about everything. You were home to him, and now he felt as though he had lost everything. Were you really that desperate for cock? That you would ruin your relationship with you best friend? Why didn’t you just say no if you didn’t love him? Why did you say you wanted him when you didn’t?
Jimin’s thoughts ran a million miles a second and he couldn’t hold it back anymore.
He dropped to the floor crying.
Who were you? Where was his y/n? Did this glow up destroy the beautiful girl he fell in love with?
A/N: next chapter will be the ending!! thanks for following along & all your support, i hope you enjoyed it:) wonder who y/n will finally go with....
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Taglist: @honeyspillings @hollowtree10
#taehyung smut#taehyung smut rec#bts smut#bts smut net#jimin smut#bangtansmutcentral#btssmutcentralnet#btssmutclub#taehyung x reader#taehyung angst#jimin x reader#bangtan smut#dom!taehyung#jimin smut rec
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Bottled Up
pairing: C.H. x fem!reader
category: angst, fluff
warnings: yelling, crying, insecurities
word count: 2.2k
notes: apologies for the tardy post, i wrote and rewrote and re-rewrote the whole angsty scene because i didn’t know if it was written well enough, i wanted to make sure you guys could feel the emotions that i vividly visualised and tried my best to put into words :( i did send it to a friend to check and she seemed to like it, so let me know how it goes for you, my loves. the angst for this one was inspired by 2 different songs - hold me while you wait by lewis capaldi and i will run from you by cemeteries. it’s not necessarily about the lyrics, but more about the melody and the mood you get into listening to them (they go in order). give those a listen :) also, beware of the upcoming philosophy references, i did study philosophy last year, hopefully no one gets triggered lmao
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Is a person’s scent something a normal human being picks up on before taking into account the rest of their features? Would a normal human being remember said scent and be able to recognise it in a crowd full of strangers? Corpse wasn’t too sure about the answer, but one thing he did know, is that she smelled delicately sweet, like cherry blossoms, and that ever since he had noticed it during their game night a few weeks ago, he simply couldn’t let it go. It was intoxicating, but in a calming way.
━
Corpse and (Y/N) each lay on their beds in their own homes, going into the third hour of their call. He couldn’t exactly fall asleep, so he had decided to see what his dear friend was up to, and even though she was this close to succumbing to sleep, she said nothing and stayed up to keep his busy mind company.
“Okay, hot topic: what do you think about soulmates? More specifically the romantic type?” the girl asked, not knowing how much of a risqué question it was. How was he supposed to answer?
“I don’t really have an opinion on it. Why?”
“I read Symposium by Plato the other day and it presented an interesting concept about human beings. Basically-” Of course she fucking read philosophical books. How were they even having a conversation with each other? Why were they even friends? She was on a whole other level of smart. “-so this guy says that humans were like androgynous blobs, so they’d come in two sets of everything a normal person has. But those humans were so powerful, the gods were literally shaking in their robes, so Zeus decided to cut everyone into two to weaken them. But then humans became so miserable, they spent their entire lives searching for their other halves. In the end, Zeus kinda felt bad and said fuck it, I’ll give y’all dicks and vaginas for every time you wanna hug each other. And that’s the oldest explanation there is about the idea of soulmates.” she sighed, finished with her rant.
“That was...not at all the story I expected to hear.” she heard him mumble on the other side of the call. “Yeah, Greek philosophers were up to some reeal freaky things, you would have loved them,” he laughed at her joke, “I honestly think it’s cute. Not the whole cutting people into two thing, but like, longing for someone and then finding them because you finally feel complete. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a strong independent woman who doesn’t need a prince in shining whatever to sweep me off my feet. But it does sound nice, that ideal comfort, a person you’re just...meant to be with, I guess.”
There was a moment of silence that neither of them really minded, before it was Corpse’s turn to ask the second bold question of the night. “Have you found that person yet? Your soulmate?”
She’s never thought about it before, but she hasn’t really thought about soulmates that much either, it was a spontaneous thought she had said out loud. “I’m not sure, actually. (B/F/N) could be one, I guess.” (Y/N) shrugged in return. Wasn’t she going to ask him about it? She probably didn’t care that much. Understandable.
“My favourite quote about love is «You come to love not by finding the perfect person, but by seeing an imperfect person perfectly.». It’s by Sam Keen, the American philosopher. It maay be the hopeless romantic in me shining through, but I do very much agree with his statement.” Did this mean anyone could have a chance with her despite their fuckups? So if he were to try, would she-?
“Obviously, there are some things that just can’t be ignored or avoided, but at that point it’s preferences and personal tolerance. Depends on the person, ya know?” she swiftly added, unaware of the effect it had on him. Sick. Some people were just meant to rot alone.
The final question was posed by (Y/N). She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t at all curious. This little crush of hers had been steadily growing with every hang out, every laugh, every hug and every glance. There are rarely ever moments where one could casually discuss a topic this personal with friends, at least there weren’t with friends one had feelings for. This was the perfect opportunity.
“Corpse?”
“Hmm?”
“Have you ever been in love?” her voice was soft, her approach gentle.
“Well, I’ve been in relationships before, so I guess, yeah? It’s been so long, I don’t even know what love feels like anymore.” he let out a breath resembling a chuckle. Lamest fucking answer ever. But it was true. He hadn’t thought about love in that way in quite a while.
“A lot of people describe it as having an intense range of overwhelming feelings. Lightheadedness, slight shakiness, heart palpitations, some people have even reported losing their appetite. Crazy how human bodies work, huh? Oh! Speaking of chemicals-”
She had continued on to ramble about...chemistry? Eyes? Corpse couldn’t really hear what she was saying anymore, let alone concentrate on her words, as he pieced everything that’s been happening for the past few months together. The nauseating feeling. The pounding of his heart so fast it felt like he was about to die. The urge to make as little eye contact with her as possible, because otherwise he’d turn into a furnace. The obsession with her perfume, like he was some fucking creep. The fool was falling in love. And it was at that moment that everything had come crumbling down.
━
(Y/N) and Corpse hadn’t talked for a couple of weeks. Or rather (Y/N) messaged the 23 year old many times, but he’d either claim to be busy or just not answer at all. There were two possible reasons for the sudden lack of contact: he was indeed busy with his musical projects and couldn’t allow himself to be distracted; or something much more serious was going on. It didn’t matter, for she was already in her car, on her way to his apartment.
Arriving at her destination, she used the spare key he gave her months ago, a sign of absolute trust, and allowed herself into his humble abode. Silence reigned in her friend’s residence. She thought maybe he had gone somewhere, and though that was unlikely, it wasn’t unprecedented. The door to his recording room was closed, and while she was tempted to check if he was in there, she refrained from doing so, knowing that specific room was not to be entered unless he was around to give permission.
“Corpse?” she called out just to make sure. There was no response for a few minutes, which made her assume she had the place for herself, until she heard a door open behind her. Turning around, she saw his figure emerge from said recording room in a white t-shirt and black sweatpants, his curly hair disheveled.
“Hey, how are you d-”
“Why are you here?” he spoke flatly, interrupting her. “Well- You weren’t, um, answering your messages or any of my calls, so I thought something had happened.” she replied, suddenly nervous, fiddling with the rings on her fingers. “Nothing happened. I told you I was busy.”
The air around them seemed colder as tensions rose. (Y/N) could tell he was irritated, but she couldn’t exactly figure out why. She had never seen this side of him before. “Okay. Tell you what, I assume you haven’t had dinner yet, so why don’t I go ahead and start cooking something up while you-”
“Get out.”
She blinked a few times, not quite registering the words that had just left his mouth. “Sorry?” Her voice was quiet. She was taken off guard.
“Are you deaf? I said get. the fuck. OUT.”
Corpse shouted the last word, making her flinch in what appeared to be fear. Good. Run away while you still can. Heart pounding, (Y/N) took a second to remind herself whom she was speaking to. “I see that you’re angry, but at least give me a reason why-”
“You want a reason? I just don’t fucking WANT you here!” Anger grew inside of him like a tumor, but it wasn’t intended for her. She had simply been caught in a storm that had been building up for years. “Do you understand that?! I can’t fucking be around you without feeling like I’m going to EXPLODE.”
His words hit her like paintballs. They were only words, plain and simple, but they dug deeper and deeper into her skin with each hit, until, eventually, it broke. Eyes burning, she felt the tears slowly welling up in them.
“Why are you doing this to me?!” her own voice grew louder with frustration, but mostly, confusion.
“Maybe because I can? Because I’m a goddamn asshole?”
“Don’t say that.”
“How?! How can I not say it when it’s the truth!” He wanted to stop. His mind told him to cease whatever it was that he was doing. However, blinded with resentment towards himself, he only spilled words he would regret after it was too late.
“I can’t function like a normal fucking human being. I can’t be a good friend, son, or whatever the fuck else, and I sure as hell can’t love you.”
The paintballs had turned into a singular sword. A very long, very sharp sword that had found itself plunged deep inside her chest. How did he found out? When? Had she been too obvious? Had she been pushy? Clingy? Way out of line? The woman before him was unable to conceal her shock, as tears came rushing down her hot cheeks. Her voice brittle, she tried defending herself. She couldn’t leave it at that. She had to try. Try to have him see reason. “You don’t love me, that’s fine. But you didn’t have to deliver it this way-”
“But I did.” breathless with fury, Corpse clenched his fists so tight they had turned cold, yet they were still trembling. “You can get so naïve and dumb, you won’t understand things unless they’re spelled out nice and fucking bold for you.”
He closed with (Y/N) until their noses nearly touched. He noticed the way she silently shook, her eyes which shed endless tears never leaving his gaze. Unable to make a single sound, she felt the man’s hot breath on her face, his aura domineering.
“Now get. out.”
Her body wouldn’t cooperate as she just stood there. Staring back at him, her inner brows raised. Corpse wanted to hug her. Envelop her trembling figure with his and tell her he was sorry, that he meant none of it, that he had lost his mind. But he couldn’t bring himself to do anything. And with his own tears threatening to spill, he created a distance between them. He needed her gone.
“Leave! GO!”
His yelling was enough to jolt (Y/N) out of her trance, and, in a hurry, she sprinted towards the entrance. The door closed behind her, she felt a sudden urge to fill her lungs with much needed air. She jumped at the resounding scream that emanated from deep within his soul, letting out all of his pent-up rage.
Feet carrying her all the way to her car parked outside of the building, the young woman managed to climb in, and this was the queue for her body to break down. The night was young. The street empty. No one around to hear her long-lasting wailing. She clutched the steering wheel for support, fingers wrapping around the leather in a tight grip. A headache was creeping up from the back of her skull. Her ears pulsated in response to the heavy pounding of her heart. Clumsily, (Y/N) inserted the key into the ignition, felt around for the gear stick, and drove away. She didn’t know where she was going or how long it was going to take to get there. She needed to get out.
What went wrong? When did it go wrong? She couldn’t help but feel guilty, feel at fault. She had never seen that side of him before. He had never treated her that way before.
It was the hugs, wasn’t it? He had to have noticed the way she held on for a second too long to enjoy the smell of his cologne. Her vision blurred as she resumed softly weeping, her salty tears staining her top. Or it might have been the touchiness, she would practically glue herself to him during their movie nights. Unaware of both her actions and surroundings, (Y/N)’s breathing quickened, becoming ragged. Maybe he didn’t like the way she called him three times a week. Her hands were slowly losing control over the wheel, over the vehicle she was driving. She invaded his privacy. That was definitely it. Fuck. How could she have been so damn blind, selfish, ignorant, FUCKING STUPID.
Lights. Something was moving towards her- MOVE.
With a sharp turn, she dodged the approaching car just by a hair’s breadth, but as she had avoided one accident, another came just as quickly.
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ATEEZ as things and feelings
@haechanhues don’t mind me just doing it again cause i liked it uwu maybe i should just change to doing headcanons LMAOOOO
as i wrote this, i realised the members of ateez have really cultivated a specific image for themselves (eg. hongjoong as a fashionista, hwa as the mom, yunho has a big bear etc) and so i really hope that these are at least some part of their real identities and it’s not just kq forcing it down their throats ;(
HONGJOONG - BOUTIQUES AND EXPENSIVE CAFES
there’s just something very sophisticated about joong, though he’s absolutely refined and clean-cut (despite that whole jack sparrow get up in their rhythm ta stage)
because he loves fashion and dressing himself up, he can’t tolerate how much you don’t care about the clothes you’re wearing! he knows EXACTLY what would make you look even better and what would totally boost your confidence and so he wouldn’t hesitate to drag you out to a boutique, whether it’s for thrifting or it’s one of those expensive ones like Dior
he’ll spoil you because he can, and because he wants to
he also has a knack for pretty settings, so that expensive cafe down the street that sells mediocre coffee but with a STUNNING exterior? he’ll bring you there just so you can be his photographer and he can be yours
you know when the coffee sucks but he still manages to contain his facial expressions and not hurl? yeah that’s joong being classy
the sophistication needed in everything simple and possibly disastrous
“i know the coffee sucks but look at our instagram now”
SEONGHWA - ROAD TRIPS AND HOME COOKED FOOD
honestly are you an atiny if you don’t agree with this
it’s been about a year since i started stanning ateez and my first impression of hwa is that he’s actually very timid and shy and awkward when it comes to firsts
on stage is a completely different story
so i’d assume he’s probably the same in private, ie he’s aggressive and dedicated when it comes to things he loves to do, but probably a little more timid and worrisome when it comes to people/things he’s not familiar with, but that doesn’t stop him from trying out new things and setting off on an adventure!
you’d be the one to surprise him with an impromptu trip, thinking that he’d be happy to escape but no he worries about clothes, packing, the weather, the itinerary-
it takes you a good amount of energy and convincing to tell him to calm down and that you’ve got every thing down, so he can just busk in the joy of being with you in a completely foreign land
he would also be the kind to try grocery shopping overseas then figure out how to make do with the ingredients
he’s home even when you’re not back in your house
“i made chicken soup with a mix of... whatever that was because the lady said it’s a local delight and that it should go well with chicken-”
YUNHO - OVERSIZED PULLOVERS AND CUDDLES
PLEASE this is self-explanatory no??????????????
a big, giant, fluffy, adorable bear!
it’s literal - as big as his clothes are on you, he acts like them as well - making sure you’re comfortable and warm and you have your own space
i feel like yunho would be the kind that shows care and concern and sometimes he doesn’t really know when to stop, and so he figures out your boundaries just so that you would be comfortable around him
whenever you’re sad or depressed or you just had a shit day, he’ll always be there for you to hug or even vent your anger
sometimes you’d get frustrated with him because he’s too nice at work too and get trampled over and then all your feelings build up and there you have it, he’ll cradle you like a baby and tell you not to waste your feelings on things that don’t really matter
he’ll tell you he’s okay, as long as you’re okay
“please don’t cry, it’ll bloat your face tomorrow morning :(”
YEOSANG - PLAYING AROUND WITH TECH STUFF AND VIDEO GAMES
he’s not the most talkative person, no, but that’s exactly what draws people. he’s always listening, always watching, but never really saying anything, and lucky for you, he says everything when he’s engaged in something he likes
he’s known for his stellar concentration, so it’s no surprise when he’s able to figure out that new tech thing he got and figure it out within the first 10 minutes, thereafter, you take the chance to get him to talk about anything and everything you want him to
he takes awhile to warm up to people, sometimes very mechanical like the things he likes to play with, but when he does, his care is silent
he buys the Bluetooth keyboard you need cause your laptop keyboard is wonky
he buys the cute marvel themed mouse pad cause your current one is peeling
then when you got him that xbox, his competitiveness hopped out like doomsday and he’d trash you on a good day with a lack thereof of mercy when it comes to verbally trashing you
but on some shitty days when he can read your tiredness and frustration, he lets you win
“give me that mouse pad, it’s almost as messed up as you.”
SAN - ABANDONED PLACES AND LIGHTHOUSES
scary on first sight/impression, yet nothing but a place full of memories that was once full of life - that’s san for you
i think he’s very intimidating on stage, which is exactly how many abandoned places are marketed on the media - haunted, ghosts, murderers, weird plants and insects etc, but what about the history of those places before they went to shit?
there’s so much more to it than what you see
adventure, wander and thrill-seeking overwhelms you when he’s around. there’s absolutely nothing to be afraid of.
lighthouses - where you find your way, and that you’ll never get lost
people tend to lose sight of what they love and want in life and san would probably be able to inspire you to get back on track, by the sheer force of his own passion and vision for himself
“run with me and we’ll see the light together!”
MINGI - MISMATCHED OUTINGS AND PLAYFUL TACKLING
ok when i say mismatched outings i mean it in the way that he’d dress up and ask you to dress up BUT you’d find yourself at a cheaper/more coffee-shop like eatery instead of a restaurant
he has fun admiring how pretty you are on the way there, but when he pulls you up to a coffee shop you’re like what? then why did i dress up so nicely for?
mingi knows that you depend on your appearance alot for confidence, so he really wants to see that pride when you’re out with him
lazy pajamas and messy hair are reserved for sleepovers and for days when you don’t really feel like doing much - and of course he’ll be there to comfort you when you need it
i think he’ll find absolute joy in pulling you close and wrapping his longass coat around you on the colder autumn/winter days, and then he’ll ruffle through your hair and you cant run because of his coat and arm wrapped around you
will definitely get judged by passerbys
but like the mismatched outfits x location, he really doesn’t care. it’s the company he cares about. it’s the condition of his company he cares about. it’s the food he cares about. not the reputation, not the pure material of someone’s clothes
“i know i told you to dress pretty but must you outdo me all the time” /insert pouty face/
WOOYOUNG - EXPERIMENTAL COOKING AND PRANK CALLING
omg the noise pollution
‘let’s call yeosang’
‘what for?’
‘just ‘cause’
and you’ll do it on your phone because wooyoung knows yeosang won’t pick it up if it’s from his phone, and so when he does pick up and he hears you say ‘hello’ with the most amount of guilt in your voice, he tells wooyoung to fuck off and hangs up
seonghwa would be your next victim but hwa would stay on the line just so he wouldn’t have to worry about coming back to a burnt down kitchen - not because he thinks wooyoung can’t cook, but because wooyoung gets absolutely distracted with you around and would want to impress you with his culinary skills, which more often than not, backfires
pranks aside, all wooyoung wants to do is to make you laugh or smile and make the time spent with him the most fun and worthwhile
even if it meant getting into trouble with his members, he decides it’s worth the risk if it means he gets to see you happy and full from eating the food he prepares
like his experimental dishes, every joke and bs pun he says is new and never fails to amuse you - even if you don’t actually laugh
you see a new side to him with every passing day and he can be sensitive if he wants to, or completely clown himself if he wanted to as well
“don’t complain about the food! i bothered to cook for you and you complain about it?!”
JONGHO - APPLE PICKING AND PLAYFUL ARM WRESTLING
the one time you let him snap your apple into half cause your teeth hurt and now he snaps all your apples in half and it’s becoming more of a joke over anything else
finally decided to go to an apple orchard for the lols and amuse the people there with his apple breaking skills
you’re extra amused everytime he manages to do it (because how?????) and he adores seeing that on you - you’re honestly not easy to entertain so he’s a simp for when he’s the reason why you are
it came to a point where you got curious how strong he was because he hasn’t revealed one bit of skin ever since you’ve met him
it started out as you actually challenging him, but when you lost with two hands against his one hand, he started teaching you techniques on how to win instead
of course, he’s never let you beat him because he knows it’ll hurt your pride if he does
very, very quiet and subtle care - makes apple juice from the leftover apples he has at home and brings it to school for you
sometimes asks wooyoung to make dried apple chips for you but tells you he bought it cause he doesn’t want you to know he troubled someone
“are the apple chips too sweet? i can buy you another brand”
#kpop#ateez#ateez headcanons#ateez scenarios#ateez imagines#atz#seonghwa#seonghwa imagines#seonghwa headcanons#seonghwa scenarios#hongjoong imagines#hongjoong headcanons#hongjoong scenarios#san imagines#choi san#san#san headcanons#kpop headcanons#san scenarios
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My thoughts for Legacies 315:
1) for the Star Wars, I have no knowledge about it, I saw some parallels of characters after the episode, it seems accurate, but I still have no idea why Hope’s characters in it didn’t even have a backstory or name lmao. I’m just overall unfazed;
2) the background of the trio and Alaric! There are like so much to address and I don’t know how to fully share my thoughts in-depth organisedly. I’ll try;
3) facts first: so it’s canon that Lizzie’s mental problem is diagnosed at earliest 11, but specific time unknown;
4) Jed activated his curse earliest at 11, since Lizzie had a crush on him for two weeks. I mean who would’ve thought that, common headcannons seem to incline on Josie x Jed tho😂. That just doesn’t randomly cross my mind🤣. Anyway, it doesn’t deny that Jed and Josie could be a thing too, since the twins often have the tendency to crush on the same person? I’m feeling like 60% of the time? I mean they obviously have the same preferences for LI, bad girl or bad boy type, anyone? Rafael, Sebastian, Jed, Jade, Penelope, Hope, Finch. They kind of have this thing with new people to their lives, for Josie, Rafael, Finch, Jade(it’s arguable but I think people tend to have a whole new lens when reconnecting with a disappeared person in your life for years when you’re very young. The perspectives are not the same, like you’re meeting a new person especially you don’t really know them before);
5) especially Lizzie, she definitely has a thing for new people that seems like bad boy/girl. I emphasised on the new people here bc I don’t think ethan is exactly that type, it’s just how Lizzie imagine him to be in that AU. Raf, Sebastian, Ethan....(maybe Jed was new when she crushed on him too, who knows), more specifically, it’s Strangers to Lovers trope for her romance department, so she can imagine as much as she wants and have the wildest dreams (bgm intended). Maybe Josie’s it’s not as much like this considering we don’t know how Posie happened, and with Hope her crush is canon when she was 12, but we don’t know how long exactly the crush was and when did it started, I just have to count that not being new person into her life. But I do get that why Josie said Lizzie always get the boy/girl Josie crushed on too, mostly they have the same type and preferences. Though they can randomly blurt out characters that we all don’t even know as more solid examples.;
6) Alaric and the fact of him being quite an absent father since the twins were 11 is solid canon. I understand the need to care for Hope because the world can’t afford a tribrid went uncared for and went around killing people, but still, the different perspectives of Hope and Lizzie to Alaric are very sad. To think that your father would betray you for another child, is very sad, even for Lizzie, the more dramatic one. So I understand that Caroline wasn’t there for the twins either, another absent parent. About the mother figure being diminished here, I’ll address it in another point. What’s left for Lizzie? Josie.
7) So basically Josie had to handle herself and Lizzie’s all by her own? That’s very hard! My BFF is bipolar, we are not living together, but before, my whole situation [for being in love with her + her situation] had really been hard for me too. I couldn’t imagine what’s it’s really like for Josie. (Another point that I need to address is the real mental problem that Lizzie has) Sure Alaric might not always be absent, but the intensity of Lizzie’s perspective begs to differ. Josie had to understand what is Bipolar at a very young age; had to be there for Lizzie when she had her outburst; had to be the one constantly check on Lizzie whether she had taken her meds; had to digest the emotion impacts from Lizzie after the outburst; had to understand how Lizzie functioned when she was down. None of that are easy, and there’s no one there to ask of what Josie really feels. How Josie pent out? What does she need? Josie might feel the need to be not wanting things and always be good so that she can get the love from Alaric (I remember in season 1, Josie felt the need to lose the game to get on Alaric good side) . So she just started to suppress her voice and her needs, because Lizzie need them the most. Over time or years of suppressing in front of her dearest family, she most likely felt unneeded by her parents, and forgettable to her parents(the girl that’s so quiet that her parents forget about her, the girl that Penelope won’t fight for anymore). She needed to feel needed, so she just let Lizzie take all of her, from whom she felt needed the most. So all of these from Josie’s perspectives, it started a vicious cycle for the twins. And leads to how the twins dynamics and how Josie are in present days. But her problem was never solved, they just accumulated day by day, year by year, leaving the good and dark side from Josie being so separated and unbalanced. The inner turmoil is always there. These lead to the extreme polarity of Josie’s good and bad side. When she’s doing bad, Josie would be especially aggressive than she needed to be because that’s an instinct to compensate the lack of action before. After long suppression, once being released, the instinct would be stronger than usual and harder to get it under control. Under the influence of dark magic, Dark Josie felt like another personality inside Josie here to take over the whole Josie and protect their interests that true Josie are neglecting. Kind of like dissociative identity disorder but not really it?? It’s just an understanding that I’ve been wanting to express, but so hard to organise it, because it’s so complex. By this understanding, I do still think that Josie should still be held accountable for her actions, even when dark magic was influencing her, like even people with mental health illness should be instituted and lost their freedom. I just think that it’s not fair to think she’s straight up very evil and do nothing good for people. It’s not like she’s being dark for no reason at all. This just mean that the dog that doesn’t bark can be more harmful than people think. These doesn’t mean that when Josie goes dark, she doesn’t deserve any leniency at all while holding her accountable. (And it’s not like she’s not beating herself up for most of the things she had done) Oh and sure, Josie should do the healthy way of voicing out these needs and all, to encourage a healthy dynamics between them like she’s the only healthy one between them, but still the problem is, they both lack the environment and guidance to make a healthy working relationship between themselves. How could they know what is healthy when the environment was already lack thereof.
8) Reading Lizzie’s diaries is bad, I understand, because you literally need to understand what leads to what, to gain control when your life is a chaos, but still. It’s even worse when you have that need to confide in another person to get things out wrongly. (I was having a phone call during the diary sharing review, but this is what I vaguely get) a) Josie is confiding the contents very specifically to another person that Hope can somehow reconstruct a sequel to it? b) Josie chose the wrong place to confide it since when she gets emotional, people can probably hear what was shared. At least from what I guess I got, it isn’t stated that she spread it to the whole school nor it was spread to the whole, even if that’s the case, it may not be on purpose, and she chose the wrong person to confide in. Like about the reveal in 112, she made up that Hope talking bad about Lizzie to the whole school, but it doesn’t mean that she spread it nor the whole school actually knows. Another case is, even if the school knows, it could easily be known by any passerby to Lizzie outburst and spread in the school. From what we saw from 101, the kitchen is a public space, the utensils and cutleries breaking should be very alarming, and there are students with intensified senses in the school. By that fact itself, it doesn’t really help Lizzie in being discreet of her illness. Still, sharing your sister’s diaries after reading it is really bad. But I do get that, sometimes you really need to talk to someone that know some of the situation but don’t really know the person in question to recalibrate yourself. But that person have to be like the dead end of all school gossip but not close to Lizzie, so it can do no harm (because he/she/they literally have no use to talk to someone with all these, usually there’s this no name policy, but with Lizzie being her sister, it’s useless hiding, maybe) when you disclose something related to her pertaining your own issues. Josie should apologise for sharing Lizzie diaries, even if Hope was not meant to know that, despite her werewolf hearing. For the reading part, did we get the apology tho? I guess we had? If negative, apologies needed.;
9) From Lizzie perspective, we can see her does Josie wrong but didn’t apologise either. Like Lizzie being princess but Josie being her android, personalised valet? It just showed that during that period of time(specifically from when until when tho, that’s a question), after what Josie had been enduring, taking care of her, Lizzie thought of herself being princess but didn’t actually think Josie as her equal? Like how the Android was programmed to bow to Lizzie? That’s just the habit of the twins dynamic showing, also partly Josie mistake, but Josie does deserves to be perceived as more than that, even when she’s derogatory to herself, Lizzie should uphold that for her. Their dynamics is just sad because it’s not entirely the twins fault, it’s also due to the absent parents in the household, they didn’t know better, they can only depend on each other. They’re orphaned like Hope in a way when their parents are still present. Even though they have privileges as Alaric’s daughters, but that doesn’t help with their real situation. This is just a perfect example of how your family shaped you, but we can still fight to shape ourselves after the power that our parents have over us gradually diminished, like how they’re starting to shape themselves more now as they’re coming to age.
10) What really warms me from the Android situation, despite Josie feeling like she’s being degraded the whole time, a subject to Lizzie, is that from how Josie is the combination of two Androids, also shows that how Lizzie actually looked up to Josie. Maybe it’s not addressed, but I see that. For Lizzie, Josie can really do so much things for her, take care of her so closely that Lizzie can count Josie as her personal valet. Derogatory, yes, but that place is also very important to prince and princess, bc they can literally do nothing to take care of their daily lives themselves well, like Merlin for Arthur (I mean the actions, not the presumably romantic relationship). Without Merlin, Arthur life is a mess! And the knowledge for Android part, it means that in Lizzie’s mind, Josie actually is like the person who knows everything😂 usually that figure should be our parents😭, but for Lizzie, it’s Josie, like she knows the answer to all. It’s sad and warming at the same time. Just more appreciation will do! And the fact that the special sword that they’re finding the whole time was in Josie’s thigh, just show how the trust that Lizzie had in Josie, not even their parents can triumph it, because Josie was the one being there the whole time. So they really deserves each other despite all the shitty things they have done to each other.
11) about Lizzie mental illness, I was recommended a post informing people about how Legacies fucked up Lizzie’s illness. After my own research, I do agree with the OP, I think that Lizzie situation is more like borderline personality disorder rather than bipolar, but that doesn’t make the whole situation easy. I can provide the table I made the next time regarding that.
12) Hope being Lizzie’s villain is really fitting, lmao, the intensity of Alaric care for Hope is so much that even Lizzie thought that Alaric would betray the twins for Hope.
13) I like Hope’s look. Josie being the Android that malfunction sometimes is funny too, especially when Josie is angry the whole time, cuz it’s infuriating too🤣🤣
14) Hope and Josie during Lethan kiss is me. How they’re totally in the same team when Lizzie being like that? Hosie are both wary of their characters and backstory? Hosie rights. Hhhhhh, oh Hope might be jealous of Ethan😂 Hizzie rights.
15) Another Hizzie rights, Hope wrote a sequel to Lizzie fanfic. And..... is Hope officially a nerd too???? I can’t! Hhhhh but maybe not, or else Hope would have known who she was.
16) Lizzie says, maybe deep down I still feel that you’re the chosen one (IN HER OWN STORY)
17) Younger Hope kind of break my heart more. It’s so sad😭😭 how she’s in denial of their parents death, and blame it on herself.....no baby. How Hope just have to tell herself all that again. And about Hope being scavenger, I think it’s fitting too. Her life, like the twins, is in pieces too. She had to pick them up herself, and build a world where her heart and hope can rest safely, and that just make her not mad at Josie burning down her room gayer. She was so closed up to herself that her room is like another world for her. So forgiving Josie just because of her crush, is like Josie and her crush on Hope meant the world to her???? Hosie rights! Anyway, Josie still messed up with that.
18) Having Younger Hope saying those things to Josie, oh my heart! Josie is a protector for Hope! Hosie rights! And Hope knowing the truth to stop Lord Marshall! Malivore, and Josie just stop talking because she doesn’t want to encourage Hope to die😍😍 Younger Hope actually wants to be best friends with the twins!!!!
19) Hope literally just stop growing taller after 12/13 like I did, is fact! And I’m comforted by that, sorry not sorry, lmao!
20) For real I don’t understand why Hope is suddenly full tribrid at the end. When she fights with Malivore.
21) The gun fight and sword fight is so weird! It’s like the gunners don’t know how to shoot at all, like they’re in slow motion, difficultly level easy to the audience, it’s so fake. I’m for Hope being badass, but it seems like the show doesn’t know how to portray a good fight scene. The sword fight is like in slow motion. And if Hope is to combine magic with sword fighting, she should combine them more. I don’t feel she’s badass at all, cuz it’s literally level easy😑
22) Star Wars AU have brought up so many childhood unresolved for the trio to understand each other more and be a better team. I love them ended up being all supportive and the panda promise🤣🤣 I love that the twins just agree not to let Hope die like that. But they’re like promise that a little later than Cleo and Landon? My team Sowanby! Applause to Handon, but please don’t be together again! Strike three, no is no!
23) for MG, Jed, Kaleb, they really need to make up with each other, I’m glad that they finally made it. And Kaleb being jealous of Methan? Lmao! And MG didn’t even say Ethan name? I love Maleb bonding, and MG never left his man behind!! Another things is, what’s wrong with those boys fighting scenes? We saw them throwing valuables to distract the monster again?! What if the keys are damaged? How are you going to go home? Oh and Jed being useful!
24) Jed last name is Tien, 田/填 in Chinese, I’ve shared enough in my other post. But still WE DONT ACTUALLY HAVE JED FIRST NAME! Give us that!
25) Still, I don’t understand how the wendigo is not dead yet. And how come it’s defeated by fire this time??
26) I don’t quite actually know what’s happening with Dorian. Is he okay? I bet he is, so Emma is coming back, right? Based off what the conversation is? We need Emma, really.
27) regarding Emma, is the lack of mother figure that I want to address when stating the twins dynamic. I don’t actually know a lot from TVD or TO, I just happen to know some general things and snippets from edits. But I know Hayley’s words before she dies, like “I’m not going to teach my daughter it’s okay to let people she loves die” and paint art, have at least one epic love? But for real, in legacies, all I get for Hayley is 103, Josie paying her respects, but none other than that. It’s all Klaus. I believe that Hayley is an important figure to Hope too. But she’s not mentioned enough, it’s kind of erasing her impact on Hope?? Like Caroline too, we get her phone calls, the twins trip to Europe to treat their problems off-screen, the letter for Lizzie in 302, the recommendation for Lizzie to go to the witch retreat, but not vetted by Alaric.....yes she get all these and Jo Laughlin being there in 106 (I cried so hard). But still the mother figure is still being minimised. Like in Lizzie’s fanfic there’s never a place for Caroline? How surreal? It doesn’t make sense. (I understand the actress is just not returning). But still these doesn’t change the fact that the show is lacking a mother figure as a whole. Emma should be that.
28) Clarke!!! Like it’s predictable! But what’s unpredictable is that he went straight to shower🤣🤣🤣 I love his snarkiness! Clarke meeting Hope half naked! Holarke! Hhhhhh
I’m too tired, sharing this episodes thoughts is exhausting me. There must be something I left out, please feel free to remind me!
#legacies season 3#legacies cw#hope mikaelson#josie saltzman#lizzie saltzman#alaric saltzman#milton greasley#ethan machado#kaleb hawkins#jed (legacies)#jed legacies#Jed Tien#dorian williams#legacies#justice for jed#hosie#hizzie#methan#hope x josie#holarke#handon#sowanby
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