#maybe later on in the month there will be an actual monster. but for now. themb
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b4kuch1n · 2 years ago
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What is this for, love? Home, or glory?
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semi-completely-original · 1 year ago
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i usually don't post art here, but i'm unfortunately shadow banned on my normal apps since i reposted too many palestine updates. oops! i'll try my luck here instead
there's a fem!haikaveh takeover lead on twitter rn and one of the loudest champions of this is my lovely mutual who inspired this outfit by giving me femveh brainworms :3 she is a WOMAN IN STEM!!!!!
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bunbunlovestowrite · 5 months ago
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Yandere!Tentacle Monster x Fem!Lighthouse keeper! Reader
Damn that title long
Cws: Tentacles are referred to as more than one, reader is a bit of a perv for wanting to bang monsters, consensual somnophilia, excessive cum, cumflation, penetration, the monster is buff ngl 💦, this is supposed to be freaky/kinky :p also reader is morally grey
SFW
You've always loved solitude. Even when you were a young girl in foster care.
Fog, mist, rain, thunder, dark clouds, all of those added to the feeling of being enclosed where no one else was.
You don't like sunny days. Not in an emo way but in a need for a calm, and the blistering sun couldn't bring you that.
Fast forward 20 something years and you struggle to stay at a job because of people. Rude customers, loud kids, lazy coworkers. Hell you got fired from your local grocer because you threw a cabbage at some entitled asshole.
And by some luck, you weren't in cuffs yet. Fate? Prolly lol
You were reading the newspaper one day and saw an ad for a lighthouse keeper. It must have been urgent if it was in the paper 4 times.
The people you met for the job were shady as hell. But they offered to pay good for you to just take care of the lighthouse completely alone for 6 months.
They put you on a boat and shipped your ass out to an island hours away from the mainland.
It had the lighthouse (duh), a cabin for you, a very small forest, and beaches covered in driftwood and seaweed.
It was foggy, cold, and wet with no sun peeking through the clouds.
Perfect.
The people who hired you were eager to get off the island. So immediately after showing you the basics they ran off.
The cabin was old and rustic, with a few holes in the roof that were covered by aged duct tape.
There was an outdoor shower and the place used gas lamps for light.
But you enjoyed it. The solitude.
Now let's skip to two months later.
You got the hang of keeping the light on and keeping it fixed. The stairs definitely worked you out though.
You spent 80% of your time using the small workshop to repair the cabin. It eventually looked slightly livable.
Everything was completely normal
Until that day on the beach.
You were outside your cabin showering.
The outdoor shower didn't exactly have curtains so you were exposed to the beach it faced.
The hot water kept you comfortable in the cold weather and you were relaxed...until you heard a growl.
You assumed it was an animal and looked around when you saw something light purple disappear into the ocean waves.
Coral you thought just coral
You went on with your week like nothing happened but you always felt watched.
It wasn't until one night during a storm you felt it.
A storm had hit the island hard, it was freezing and your shitty blankets did little.
You barely managed to fall asleep when something warm engulfed you, arms and slimy embraces.
You screamed in shock and fear but your unwelcome bedmate held you harder and wouldn't let you move.
It was only after you calmed down that it relaxed.
Light purple skin was what you noticed when looking down. With scales in areas that were slightly darker.
The tentacles were wrapped around your legs tightly, writhing in certain areas.
You got a better look when your holder put you on your back and sat above you.
A humanoid creature with light purple skin and what seemed to be a jellyfish head sat on its actual head. It had no nose and completely white eyes, not to mention a gentle smile.
It cooed at you, dragging it's hands up your stomach and sliding up your bra.
Slimy and warm, that was it's skin.
You normally would have thrashed and kicked, but maybe it was the pheromones the creature left out, or how one tentacle pressed right against your cunt through your damp shorts.
But you moaned when it touched you. A soft, unashamed moan.
The tentacle at your shorts practically tore them off, panties included, and it slid up and down your slit and flicked against your clit.
You watch as it's hand fondled your tits and pinched your nipples, its eyes slightly lidded.
You let your body roam down it's chest and saw it didn't have a cock. It was kinda like a ken doll. But the tentacles must have the same effect as one when you saw white precum drip from the larger tentacles tip.
More tentacles held your arms and legs open while the tentacle squirmed into you, thick and struggling.
There wasn't a part of you it didn't fill. Your stomach bulged slightly as it didn't wait and immediately moved in you, wiggling before pulling out and slamming back in.
The cabin was full of lewd wet noises and your cries, along with the creature chirps and coos while it pet your head that night.
NSFW
There wasn't a second it didn't have a tentacle on or in you.
Despite its main body being in the water there was a tentacle wrapped around your legs that you never found the start of.
It had an iron grip and wouldn't come off unless the creature itself was nearby.
When the tentacle wasn't dormant it would rub against your clit through your pants or would be in you, gently drawing orgasms after orgasms until you begged it to let you breathe.
The creature was never gone for more than a few hours. And when it came back it came with gifts.
Shells, pearls, fish, jewelry it made or rusty jewelery it found on the bottom of the ocean.
You noticed it liked it when you wore the jewelry during sex, mainly due to how much rougher it was.
Then there was the slight fear of getting knocked up.
Every single time you had sex you would try and tell it to pull out but it would just smile and pet your head before cumming in you for the third time that hour. And you loved it.
Sometimes, when you were especially needy, you'd put on more of a show when showering.
Even touching yourself when you knew it was watching. The creature loved it.
You'd see it stand in the water and would beckon you closer, to which you happily obliged.
You'd meet in the water and it would kiss you roughly before lifting your legs around its waist and kept you above the water as it fucked its tentacles deep into you. The water mixing with the (possible) gallons of cum that spilled from you
One of your favorite things was waking up to its coos and growls.
You'd be held tight by its tentacles while it found shoved it's tounge in your cunt, hitting deep spots with its flexible prongs.
Other times it would wake up to you using one of its tentacles, whining when you couldn't get it to stay stiff by itself. It would act asleep and slowly stiffens the tentacle so you could have your fun.
What a perv you are
But then again the sun's gonna blow up one day so :p
It seemed to have infinite stamina and an infinite libido.
It could be the most inconvenient time ever and all you need to do is give it a look before your suspended in the air by your hands while it curls a smaller tentacle around your clit and fucks you with its thick one.
The creature was possessive before you knew it was there, especially when people dropped off your supplies.
But now that your it's? A whole new genre of possessive.
On time you had to keep a straight face while talking to someone cause the mini tentacle was rubbed right against your g-spot while somehow rubbing your clit under your skirt.
It even started biting you hard enough to leave marks.
--
Requests are open :)
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gremlingottoosilly · 2 months ago
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I know this page now is filled with Mafia König, and Monster König, and Slasher König, but it was revealed to me in a dream- Executioner König. Apparently, (though I don't have a source) given that the profession often met with isolation, which obviously made it hard to find a bride. Some executioners if they weren't married already, could pardon a woman prisoner if she agreed to marry him. Now enter, all in white, Reader that has commited an unspecified crime. It's still enough to be on death row for it. But Konig, seeing her, just can't let such a pretty thing die. He's lonely, and not getting any younger....
Cut to Reader confused later in life how her life from stealing or conning went to cooking potatoes and warming his bed at night while he's busy ripping someone's intestines out.
(plus fucking Reader in a pillory as a treat)
You prayed every night. They gave you a week before the execution - threw you in a cold basement, dampened your feet in water, and waited until you begged for the sentence to come faster. They couldn't - the royal executioner was out on the road from another city, and they couldn't have a royal maid to be killed by some commoner. You thought you'd have time to let them know how you didn't do what you did - how you were innocent all along if only crime for protecting yourself. No one listened, of course. The royal executioner has cold hands, and you can almost feel them preparing for the torture. This is what he is going to do, you think - put you in a pillory, slowly rip you from inside out. A fitting punishment is to dump your common blood so everyone can see just how much of a filth you are. Konig knows he has a right to you - a royal maid, probably framed. Maybe you are guilty- but he looked at your wide eyes and tear-stained face, and he didn't really care. You have soft legs and nice hips, a body that even prisoner's rags couldn't hide. You'd give him nice, fat babies - about a litter of them, poor bastard living with their father's profession. Daughters never get married, and sons get themselves wives in a similar fashion. Konig draps a hand over your thighs, under the rags - you're filthy, but he never minded. Can clean you up after, make you a wife. Honest woman, getting clean with his cock lodged deep in your cunt. He always liked girls from the royal district - clean, fresh, looking small like dolls on their fast legs. Like deers in the forest, except that he can now get himself one. Like catching a forest nymph. You don't even whimper as he drags a hand over your pussy, fingering you slowly - learned his way with brothel girls, always too nervous to actually do something, but also too horny not to. No one would be with an executioner willingly, so he would fuck you until heaven and the crown would forgive you and then would put a nice ring on your finger. Drag you to his house and made you his made - and his princess, too. Would buy you a dozen little goose feather pillows and a soft blanket from a foreign merchant so your body would forget the cold and the depth of the dungeon. He knows you'd be a good housewife because you managed to work in a castle - he doesn't care if it was the lower quarters if you only worked with other servants. He calls you a princess in bed and gets expensive cuts of lamb to cook. You burn your first one, roasting it too much, not knowing how to deal with meat if it's not made from scraps - and he ate it anyway, nuzzling his face into your breasts later as if asking for seconds. Puts a baby in you two months after the wedding. Haggles with merchants for soothing herbs and tortures 5 people per day for a bigger cut of what was in their pockets. Gets you a really nice bracelet out of some poor merchanting bastard, and you wore it like a shackle, your hands still trembling lightly when embracing him. The smell of your hair makes him forget about blood, and he clings to your body like a dog whenever he is home. Konig couldn't be happier.
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wonderjanga · 3 months ago
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Marvel Being the First Hero to Debut
Let me explain, in the 50’s, precisely 58, is when the Batson’s died. Then, two to four years later, the time bubble appeared. (60-62) In 59, there was a sighting of a red blur flying across the sky, but nothing really came of it.
Now, fast forward to 95. The time bubble pops then instead of twenty years later. So boom, Billy, Mary, and Freddy are now in the mid 90’s. The news catches sight and confirmation Marvel exists like a month after the bubble pops when he’s fighting some random magical monster. His official “debut” as Captain Marvel. Now, Billy superheroes his way through the two thousands. He meets Clark when the Kryptonian is like 17 or so in 2008, and Clark is just gobsmacked at the thought of another Kryptonian (he was a little disappointed to find out Marvel wasn’t) and the fact that there’s someone out there who’s also abnormally strong and fast and also has weird abilities. Mary and Freddy become national treasures. (Their Marvel forms make them look like teens) The three go to Gotham (2009) and they happen to meet young Batman, Dick Robin, and Barbara when she’s still Batgirl. Mary and Barbara get along, Freddy and Dick get along, and Batman tolerates Marvel’s cheeriness. The Justice League is formed(2010), he isn’t invited. (He kinda was. The team came together during a crisis, aliens, and they all worked together. He left before he could actually be apart of the “let’s be a team” discussion.) Then, he continues to superhero, the Teen Titans are formed some time later (2012), Billy doesn’t really care (he does, he’s jealous he can’t join because his Marvel form looks like an adult) but Freddy and Mary do cause they join. (It crushes him inside slightly) Then, Billy gets actually invited to join the JL cause they were like “wait, does he even know he’s kinda in the league?” (2015) Then he joins, and they all think he’s gonna be this super wise, stoic older hero. They think this cause Billy started avoiding press as the years went by, so there’s rarely a video or photo of him being a dumbass and not listening to Solomon. So they’re a little confused when they meet a mid twenties, maybe early thirties something guy who also kinda, might, may be related to Supes, judging by how friendly they are to each other.
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stxrvel · 2 months ago
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disclosure (6)
series summary. the holy grail of the seven men who ruled the country's entertainment used to be your friends at school. now, ten years later and between successes and failures, what reason would they have to want to come back into your life? pairing. platonic ot7 x f!reader for now content. first of all, english is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes! curse words, angst, reader becomes sus, fighting (in the wrong way), angry and mean jin? self-doubt. a/n. hi guysssssss!!! sorry it's taking me this long always, but i finally finished this part! i actually just finished it and it's almost 2am and i have to go to work in fivehours. i'm publishing this part as it is and maybe tomorrow if i have the time i'll look at it again, bc i'm really exhausted right now. and also please forgive me if there are any mistakes in the text;((((. but i hope you guys enjoy this 7k monster of a chapter and i'll see you next time!!
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The fourth book of your saga was a reflection of everything you had gone through when you moved with your family to the capital. You finished the third book when you had barely been in the city for a month and maybe that's why it didn't have a happy ending and why everyone who had read the trilogy had been devastated with that ending. It wasn't something you had planned from the beginning, but it wasn't something that ruined the plot either. It was actually much better than you had planned.
And when you finally finished with the trilogy, starting to write again wasn't hard, especially with so many mixed emotions and so much repressed pain coming back to the surface uninvited.
Maybe you hadn't been in connection with your strong feelings since then, when the city constantly reminded you that you had lost the only people you considered your true friends and the pain of their absence and the harsh reality was a knife burying itself in your chest over and over again. You hadn't felt this much since the moment you realized that they were able to live their lives without you, but you had to go through the mourning of losing them.
You hadn't felt this much since then, until that moment when, having been just a day since you had decided you would take the path of healing, you had to reopen the draft of your fourth book and find all those angry paragraphs, spit out words, piled up letters and whole pages filled with pure rage and pain; of disappointment and realization… of betrayal.
“Are you going to start again already? Don't you think you deserve a break?”
The words Yuna had spoken to you that morning were echoing in your head from the moment you read the first words of this draft and the memories began to well up, emotions making your hair stand on end and your throat close up.
It was almost funny to remember how incredibly angry you were when you first arrived in the city.
The city, with posters of Jungkook's face on every corner, with his performances on some screens or just teenagers talking about him and whispering about his music, it was practically impossible to escape it. The city, with radios blaring Yoongi's songs, in a cab or on public transportation, interviews blaring on TVs in shopping malls. The city, with the international news, which echoed so much, about the spectacular promises of modeling. The country couldn't be prouder to have representatives of that caliber, because the moment Taehyung and Jimin overtook the West and broke the international barrier, it was only a matter of time before the others followed suit and completely changed the idea of entertainment and media in the country.
The first months in the city were nauseating, when you had to get used to and overcome your emotions the hard way, fighting against the aggressive tide that all the time tried to drown you, and that was noticeable in every word and every scene of that book, and you were almost sure that if any of them read it, they would know immediately. If they wanted to know anything about you, if they were really interested, there would be no better way than through your books; in no other situation would you be so vulnerable.
You wondered, for a moment, if any of them would have read any of the books by now. If Namjoon would remember when you asked him for strange words to describe emotions and now they were captured in those impressions, or when you asked Jin and Hoseok for their opinion about the complex construction of your world and each of their peculiar and crazy details can be found in those pages. Just as your books had all the pieces of you, it also had crumbs of them, and you wondered if they would notice if they read it.
Don't you think you deserve a break?
Maybe you do. That's why you had decided to close that cycle once and for all, and there was no better way to do it than to finally start with the edition of this book. Of this fourth book, so strong in its toughness and determination, so vulnerable in its rage and palpable pain.
It was the cleanest and purest and truest version of you.
But as much as you deserved it, it felt more like punishment. Reliving those emotions and evoking those memories caused you more anguish and you didn't know if you could face a kind of shock therapy like that to finally let go.
“The editors said you'd be here.”
You saw Choi Dohyun standing, leaning against the door frame above the computer screen that still displayed the title of the first chapter of your fourth book. On a Wednesday at barely eight o'clock in the morning, the great CEO decided to set aside a few minutes of his busy time to gratify you with his presence.
His calm, serene and carefree expression was the contrast to the swirl of emotions that ran through that room, rising from the crown of your head. You could almost tell he wasn't venturing into the office because he could feel the tension radiating from your position at the desk. He must have even seen it on your face.
You sighed and barely waved at him, running your hands over your face, trying to ease your tense muscles a little.
“Is there a specific reason why you don't want the editors to read the book?”
Choi Dohyun was a mystery. You only knew about him from the three-hour conversation you had the day before, besides the strange looks he cast at Yoongi from his office entrance. He had shown himself to be a very open person and it was clear that he was an expert at making things work his way. You knew he had agreed to many of your conditions because what he would get in return was bigger than what it would cost him, which really wasn't too much, just enough to maintain a level of creative freedom that would allow you to access editorial support when you saw fit —because you knew that once you handed it over, it would no longer be entirely yours—and often businessmen reflected their own personalities in how they negotiated a deal.
Dohyun tried to come across as a fairly personable person; he tried to be understanding, communicative and open-minded, so much so that he reminded you of the comfortable security of an older brother. However, you could tell in that meeting that he held back too much; that he had hated the way Yuna used to interrupt him to ask him questions or how your brother would put too many buts in his mouth and try to get information out of him that he shouldn't give away. You could tell he was impatient, that he really expected the meeting to last less than twenty minutes because he was sure you would sign the contract blindly as soon as you saw the profits you'd gain from the distribution and sale of your books. You also noticed, in case it wasn't obvious already, that he preferred to be in control as long as the situation and the people around him allowed it, for his convenience. If he gave in on several occasions, you knew it had been because he was very, very aware of everything that benefited him.
There were two options: Choi Dohyun wore a mask constantly, or Choi Dohyun was a fraud.
“I just wanted to read it one more time… before handing it over. I won't take long.”
“It's okay. No problem.” Dohyun finally walked into the room, the office he had handed you for whenever you decided to go to his publishing house. You didn't even know writers had that option; you didn't know if it was common, but he allowed it. He had also offered you a writing kit that included a typewriter that looked quite expensive, and although you hadn't accepted it, there it was in one of the corners of the office. Dohyun sat across from you, glancing at the few things you had brought from home to make the place a little more pleasant. “I understand that sometimes it's hard to separate yourself from your work. It's a part of you, after all. A kind of vulnerability that not everyone sees.”
That was the kind of thing that kept Dohyun's true nature a mystery. His stoic expression as he blurted out words of comfort. It almost felt like running sandpaper over cement. Not that you needed to figure him out, because at the end of the day he was a boss of sorts and you two were bound by a contract with mutual economic benefits —technically, you were each there for a benefit of your own— but it was something you wanted to be aware of, watchful of, informed of, because you had no way of knowing this guy wouldn't try to take advantage of some situation later, in any possible scenario.
“Yes…”
“Take as much time as you need. The demand for the trilogy is still pretty high, after all.”
You nodded at him in response, wary of his attempt to lighten the mood. If he was the kind of person you thought he was, he surely knew you didn't feel an ounce of trust towards him.
“In just two days you must have quite a bit of work to do with that,” you tried to continue the conversation, interspersing your gaze over the letters on the screen and his dark eyes.
“But it's a very welcome work. Aren't you glad your books were so well received?”
“Yes,” you answered without hesitation, momentarily remembering the proud look on Yuna and your brother's face when they finally got you to see the reactions and opinions of your books on social media. “It's comforting. For your work to be appreciated, recognized… moreover, that it allows you to make a living from it. It's amazing and a very great privilege.”
Dohyun shook his head in assent, interlacing his fingers over his abdomen. From his nonchalant way of taking a seat across from you, slumped over the chair almost as if he was an old friend from college and not practically your boss, and from how his voice reflected that sense of calmness and confidence, you could almost tell he was perfectly selling the facade of the most trustworthy person in the world.
But ultimately it was your feeling and your need to automatically distrust anyone you met because you didn't know at what point they would try to take advantage of you or turn their back on you, and maybe Dohyun wasn't as bad a person as you wanted to paint him in your head. Maybe you would even accept that his presence was a bit comforting and that he actually reminded you of someone you used to know in the past and of whom currently, if you knew he was still alive, it was by sheer luck. That personality, that sense of security he conveyed and that way he had had of expressing himself to you in that meeting that showed a different and more mature kind of wisdom, indeed reminded you of someone else.
Dohyun was very, very much like Jin.
“Can I… ask you something?” you hesitated, alternating your gaze between the screen and his dark eyes, not quite sure if you wanted to go down that path, but aware that you would get something in return if you did, and perhaps the risk would be worth it. “But it's not related to… this.”
As you pointed to your computer and the rest of the office, you couldn't decipher what expression Dohyun sketched. Trying to read him like you did everyone else, it seemed he entertained a specific train of thought in his head and was sparked by your question, but you couldn't probe much further because he agreed, tilting his head to invite you to ask bluntly.
“How do you know Min Yoongi?”
Dohyun then lifted his chin and his lips curved into a sort of small smile that could more accurately be described as a grimace. With his eyes on the window, with the beautiful view of the city and its busy streets, Dohyun took his time to answer and his pleased and almost satisfied look gave you to understand that your question was not a surprise at all. Dohyun could take it simply as healthy curiosity, for after all Yoongi was a celebrity and there weren't many people around the country who couldn't recognize him and you literally saw him face to face.
However, of course, there was something about his attitude that felt different. He wasn't surprised by your question, it was true, but maybe not for the reason you thought.
“He's a friend of my best friend.” Dohyun finally answered, returning your gaze, a glint of amusement highlighting his dark eyes. “I met him a couple of years ago through him, who is also his best friend. Otherwise, I doubt we would've ever met.”
Ah, Dohyun had a best friend who was best friends with Yoongi. That could only mean one thing.
“Ah. Then your best friend is part of the seven kings.”
Dohyun raised his eyebrows, clearly amused by your choice of words and the permanence of that haunting smile and the glint in his eyes should've been warning enough. He had the posture, demeanor and speech of a person who knew he was in control of the situation. Whatever his purpose was in entertaining this conversation, you already knew you were involved in that reason, indirectly.
Dohyun knew something about you that you had no idea about.
“Yes, indeed. It's Kim Seokjin. We met in college.”
As you guessed, of course. That's where the similar traits you could find in his personality came from.
But then Yoongi wasn't directly friends with Dohyun, and they couldn't be that close because of the nonchalant way he referred to him, so the question of why he was here yesterday, precisely when you came, would remain unanswered. It could be a coincidence? Of course, and you could remain in doubt, or you could…
“Wow. You two really are a powerful duo.”
Dohyun let out a laugh, nodding, looking so comfortable with himself, as if you were asking all the questions you should be asking.
“I love my job and I know I'm good at what I do, but Jin is simply on another level.”
You nodded, getting into his game of pretending, with a half smile on your face.
You knew that if Yuna knew what you were doing she would shake her head and tell you that you were crazy; that you should try to be less hard on other people and that's why you had never been able to hit it off with the other co-workers in Sol's cafeteria.
“Yes. I hear he's a great surgeon. He was top of his class, wasn't he?”
“That's right.” Dohyun nodded, determined not to look away from you. “But you're close to them too, aren't you? I saw Taehyung's Instagram stories when he uploaded your books.”
You blinked. Once. And again. He had already figured you out, and now he wanted to reverse the table and get some kind of reaction or information from you that you didn't know what kind of mystery it would solve in his head. The best option was to feign a bit of surprise, which was what you did, as if you didn't expect him to suddenly bring that up.
“Well, we studied together in school, but we were never that close.”
You lifted a shoulder, trying to downplay the subject, as if on cue, and Dohyun nodded slightly processing the information, averting his gaze over the dark carpet on the floor. He seemed to be tying up loose ends in his head and had more questions, the way he squinted his eyes as you gave him his space to think.
You had no idea what he was getting at. You had already brought out to him that he was close friends with Kim Seokjin and that, basically by extension he knew Yoongi. You could almost say it was a bit of an ordinary, almost trivial topic, not overly suspicious. Unless, of course, he knew something else that raised his curiosity and made you look suspicious in his eyes for asking such questions.
It seemed the most certain theory.
“And through him you must have met the others sometime, right?”
And it seemed you were right, too.
You had to deny his assertion, you knew, but it seemed you had taken half a second too long because he beat you to the word, shaking his head in a nod, and then said:
“That explains a lot.”
“Huh?”
Play dumb, play dumb.
Dohyun cracked a big grin, looking almost like a predator in the midst of its hunt, and from that alone you knew he'd already put his puzzle together.
“Well… actually, now that we're being honest, Jin was the one who recommended me to read your books.”
Wow.
Okay.
Jin… told Dohyun about you? About your books?
That doesn't explain anything. In fact, more questions popped up in your head than you could control and you were sure Dohyun could see the question marks moving over your irises.
“He told me that there could be a great opportunity if I published you and he was really right. I don't regret sending you that offer.”
Dohyun leaned back against the backrest and stretched one of his arms over the chair next to him. His posture was a little more relaxed than before and you couldn't help the feeling of anger that ran through you because you had given him just what he wanted, but you couldn't concentrate too much on that because you were too surprised by what he had just blurted out, as if it was nothig.
Of all the things you could've imagined, you would never have considered that this huge and prestigious publishing house had offered you a contract just because one of the CEO's great friends had recommended it to him. I mean, if Jin had never talked about it, would you have had any chance of getting this offer? Of signing this contract? Would you have been recognized on your own merit and not because you were linked to the mouth of a close friend?
None of that made any sense. Why had Jin told Choi Dohyun about you? His best friend being the owner of the most prestigious publishing house in the country, clearly knowing the implications of his actions, why would he do that? Maybe he didn't count on his friend throwing him overboard someday for gossiping and because he has an ego bigger than his own head? Maybe he thought it would be an anonymous job forever? And for what reason? On what grounds? What kind of emotions moved him to make that decision? Maybe it was simply an altruistic desire. Maybe he was moved by the same thing that moved Taehyung, the one who started all this. But was it something premeditated or not? Was it something he had previously discussed with Namjoon? Would the others know about it? Would they have agreed? Would they not have cared?
In the midst of that mental stupor, the very idea of healing seemed stupid to you. The immense confusion and anger that was coursing through your blood had no place for this group of fools to continue to meddle in your life as if they were playing a fucking election game on their computer. Why? Why? Why?
You wanted to get out of a simple doubt with Dohyun, to know what kind of connection he had with Yoongi and that everything that had happened was a coincidence, and you had ended up with a thousand more questions, with a hundred confusions and even more mixed emotions.
And Yoongi… would he have been in his office yesterday for something related to that?
“At first I thought Taehyung had asked him, but Jin is quite careful about such things. He wouldn't hint something like that to me even because his brothers ask him to, unless it was someone he could vouch for. So you knew Jin too, right?”
You didn't try to deny it, but you didn't give him the reason either. Amidst a sea of questions and confusion, incredulous and angry, you just shook your head and crossed your arms.
“I'll bring the first draft tomorrow.”
Dohyun took his time, drumming his fingers on the wood of the chair, sending you a look as if he wanted to get more answers out of you because your attitude raised more doubts than he initially had. Maybe you let go of a wolf's leash or this would be a one-time occurrence, you had no idea. But he said nothing more. Finally he got up, said goodbye and left.
Don't you think you deserve a break?
You should've listened to Yuna.
-
The next day, when you finished editing the draft of your fourth book amid tears, several cups of coffee and an excruciating pain in your wrist, you finally handed it in to the editors with a heavy heart and an hour of sleep in your body. It had officially ceased to be yours. The revelation that Dohyun had actually offered you all of this because Jin had asked him to do so kept going round and round in your head and made you revise and edit that draft more harshly than you would've done before.
Maybe you added a few extra curse words.
“If you don't finish that pasta, I'm going to steal it from you.”
Yuna hadn't even finished her own plate and was already eyeing yours, her brow furrowed and her own fork stabbing the ceramic of the deep dish you'd served your friend in as she crossed the threshold of the front door. You had been stirring the food with your fork for a while, thinking, reflecting, theorizing, trying to figure out what you really wanted; trying to recognize and accept the emotions inside you that were upsetting you.
Your parents had left early and Seojun was back in his college dorms, so you invited Yuna to lunch because you knew she loved the pastries your mom made and because you thought it would do you good to have some company after turning in the draft of your book. But, really, you were more overwhelmed than before. Yuna's presence didn't stop the thoughts in your head from racing, nor did it erase from reality what had happened.
“Y/n?”
You raised your head.
“Are you okay?”
You nodded, and tried to focus on eating lunch before rambling on.
“Is it because of the book?”
“No, no. Everything's fine. I was just thinking.”
“Do you think you should've waited a little longer to turn it in?”
You shook your head. “No.”
It wasn't an order from Dohyun or anything like that. You decided to get started on editing the next book because it was a bit desperate to have nothing to do. Before you could focus on the whole operational and logistical process of delivering the books, but now that was taken care of by a separate company and all you had to do was verify that the money was coming into your account and that was it. Not that it was bad, but you were not used to just sitting idly by. So you thought that continuing with the pre-publication editing of the next books might be a good way to pass the time.
You didn't expect, of course, the statement you heard the day before, let alone that it would knock down your motivation like the wind to dry leaves. After that conversation with Dohyun, you decided that the best thing you could do was to turn in that draft and give them as much work as possible as a distraction so that you wouldn't have to go back to that building for at least a couple of weeks. It wasn't a healthy activity, of course, because at the time you were only functioning to keep Yuna from questioning if there was something wrong with you. Well, she probably did, but she preferred not to comment on it, because you hadn't been giving her too many answers to her questions lately.
Having decided that Dohyun was an expert manipulator, you could only worry about the possibility that he might decide to comment something about that conversation to Jin or just stir up a conversation about the possible existence of a friendly bond with him during school time. You didn't know what could trigger that; with everything that had happened up to that point you could no longer be sure of anything or trust anything.
“No. I thought I'd turn it in now so I'd have more time to read the next books. I know that one isn't too bad. I revised it too many times while I was writing it and even after.”
“And it's pretty long, isn't it?”
You nodded, finally tasting another mouthful of pasta. “Seven hundred pages.”
“Holy Christ,” Yuna put a hand to her forehead and sketched a worried expression. Then her excited exclamation echoed throughout the house. “What a thrill! I can't wait to read it!!!!!!”
Yuna returned to work an hour later and you spent the rest of the afternoon between shifts of lying down staring at the ceiling and watching more videos about your books on social media, which you hadn't been able to leave since you saw them with your whole family in the living room. It still seemed surreal to you that you could search the name of your books on the internet and you would indeed get the results you expected. Clearly not all the opinions were praise, but you were willing to take all of that and learn, implement and consider it for the next stories you were willing to tell. For now, you were going to focus on keeping the editors busy enough that they wouldn't have to ask about it or demand your presence for any reason. This trilogy really was quite a lengthy saga, so when they finallt finish editing the fourth book, you'd have the fifth waiting, and so on. At least until you had another amazing idea for a new story.
Now, on the slightly more disturbing topics, you still had more loose ends to tie up than you had initially thought. As you still had those particles of anger running through your body and you were still convinced that there was still no room for healing and overcoming, you could only think about what Yoongi's presence in Dohyun's office was about and if it had to do with what Jin had done.
That was the first line of thought. The second one sounded more like Yuna with her serious voice trying to talk some sense into you and tell you that you were seeing into it too much, that surely it was all just a coincidence and that Yoongi's presence was just some kind of crossfire.
But… yet… how many more times did something like this have to happen before you stopped chalking it up to coincidence? How many more times would you say it was a coincidence until everything started to connect to a purpose? Did they even have a purpose? Did they have a reason for all this, for all this unnecessary drama? And was their reason worth it to compensate for the instability you were going through? Having pent up emotions, confusion, lots of doubts and zero answers was about to drive you crazy.
However, maybe seeing things from another approach would allow you to understand.
Because, honestly, you saw it as too complicated to be able to leave them behind in this way, when it seemed that, on purpose or not, you would keep finding them in your soup. Adopting a slightly more objective approach, even though your emotions were always running high when it came to them, could give you the resolution you were looking for and the answer to the questions you were asking yourself. And there would be nothing more than that, because it would be impossible to restore the friendship you once had. Perhaps the truth would be painful, but you would accept it as it was and move on. Now, as old as you were, it would not be as hard as it was ten years ago when in the midst of confusion and desolation you could only cry.
Now, you had already gone through the mourning and made peace with the distance, the absence and the betrayal.
Maybe, if you tried a little harder, you could bring real closure —and soon, hopefully— by finding the answers on your own.
-
Kim Namjoon used to believe that he was good at dealing with any kind of problem. In his head, which he was spinning around like a huge sphere and he was a hamster, Namjoon was sure that he could fix any situation and solve any misunderstanding, any fight or at least come to an agreement that would make everyone feel comfortable enough to move forward.
In his head, Namjoon was a three thousand dollars conflict-solver. Seeking solutions from reason and objectivity was basically how he kept his company afloat, that company he had inherited from his parents and had turned into the economic juggernaut it was today. All that success was summed up in the capacity for resolution that Namjoon had in his super head and, of course, his strategic capacity that allowed him to read his opponents and know exactly what they wanted, how they wanted it and when they wanted it.
However…
The whole table was still silent.
And Namjoon could only look at the faces of each of his friends, his best friends, practically his brothers, while they shied away from his gaze or directly ignored him, while he clasped his hands on the edge of the chair and tried to keep his composure because he no longer knew what to do.
Kim Namjoon, the three-thousandth troubleshooter, had a factory defect and could not fix the one thing he had always been able to fix with ease.
When Hoseok had walked into his office two nights ago with that stern and serious expression, Namjoon knew that there would be more problems to solve. But if he had to be honest, even before that moment he knew it wasn't working out well. Maybe it was because of the delicacy of the subject or the crudeness of his friends to address it, but Namjoon was losing the important ingredient of patience and that was something that hadn't happened to him before.
But then again, how could they all be so insensitive?
“Doesn't anyone have anything to say?”
Hoseok had been the only one to be spared from this discussion, though his presence was required at the table and tension radiated from his body in equal amounts. The others were directly attacked by the three thousandth (broken) problem-solver and despite Namjoon giving them a space to try to explain the situation, the table was still silent and with each passing second the pressure cooker containing Namjoon's anger was beeping louder and louder.
“I don't think there's much to say.”
It was Jin who finally broke the silence and Namjoon let out some air.
“Ah, thank you, Jin. Why do you think so?”
With his arms crossed, the older sent him an incredulous look.
“We've had this conversation three times already, Namjoon. Why do you think it's necessary for us to keep repeating ourselves?”
Hoseok had told Namjoon that he was concerned about the coexistence in the pent-house and that perhaps the elephant in the room was not being addressed in the right way; that more and more misunderstandings were being created between everyone and that it was making for an untrustworthy environment for the youngers. Namjoon agreed halfway through; if he had to be honest, none of it would've gotten to that point if none of them had been so irresponsible and daring to do all that they had done. And Jin had the least right to dismiss the issue as he had.
“Because you all don't seem to have listened to me at all, especially you.”
Jin snorted and turned his head away. Jungkook beside him barely winced at the hostile exchange.
“And what did I do?”
“What did you do? Jin, how can you be so inconsiderate?”
“I only rushed an exchange that was eventually going to happen, what the fuck is wrong with that?”
Namjoon tried not to look so surprised by the fact that the conversation he had had with him two nights ago and Yoongi had basically gone in one ear and out the other. Namjoon had no idea if it was an occupational hazard or a personality trait, but Jin was having a kind of stubbornness that bordered too much on his pride and desire to be right.
And right now it wasn't about who was right or wrong. It was about the fact that they had all made a promise and now they were breaking it as if it was worthless. Worse, as if the only ones affected by it were them and not a third party.
“Didn't you stop to think how she would feel if she found out that was how things went down?”
Jin rolled his eyes, but didn't answer him.
“Why do you all do all these things without believing that they will have consequences beyond your own feelings? That's all I'm asking you to consider!”
Taehyung and Jungkook at least had the decency to actually look embarrassed, avoiding Namjoon's gaze. Jimin was still convinced that he had done nothing extremely wrong and Yoongi simply demonstrated his sorrow through indifference. Namjoon knew that Yoongi was just as frustrated as he was with the way things were going, because they were the only ones trying to fix the messes the others had been thoughtlessly causing. And Jin… well, it was obvious that he didn't see any big implications beyond having to be scolded by Namjoon.
“Guys…” Hoseok started, sitting to Namjoon's right with a tired and defeated expression. If Namjoon and Yoongi were looking out for the integrity of the third party concerned, Hoseok was the one who was most concerned about the bonds that were breaking between them and that was why he had gone to Namjoon to have a group meeting again and set the boundaries once and for all. “You guys know that Namjoon is not just talking for the sake of talking. Jin, you don't need to get defensive. I understand that you tried to make the connection in good faith, but you have to understand that it was a very high risk. And while Dohyun is your friend, you know he's not very trustworthy.”
Jin grunted then, despite the kind tone Hoseok used to address him, and the others at the table only sent him a surprised look.
“Sure, now it's all my own damn fault. Not only do I have to deal with the stress of work, now I have to come to my supposed time off to deal with this too?”
“Hyung,” Yoongi called after him and frowned at the rude tone the older had used. “No one is saying it's your fault. We all have a part in this.”
“I don't care, Yoongi. Whatever's going on right now you know who's really to blame. And there's nothing you can do about it anymore.”
“Jin,” Namjoon called back and the aforementioned turned to look at him with daggers in his eyes. “You made the promise too.”
“Yes, one I never agreed to and you know it.”
Hoseok sighed and ran his hands over his face. “This is not the time to apportion blame, okay? I only wanted this space because I want us to fix this lack of communication and all this hostility that is affecting our living together.”
Namjoon turned to look at the table, finding the younger ones sealed in silence. None of them raised their heads and they showed signs of nervousness and anxiety, even if they tried to hide it under the tablecloth on the table.
There were too many things Namjoon wanted to control; there were too many things he wanted to solve; there were a number of other things that drove him mad and others that made him feel hopeless. Understanding all these emotions, his own or others', was wearing him down and perhaps that was why he was increasingly losing an ounce of patience. However, no matter how hard it was for him, Namjoon had to be sure that his priority was right in front of him. He had chosen to do so a couple of years ago and he could no longer turn back time.
“Hey, I'm sorry, okay?” Namjoon started once again and although Hoseok tried to shush him to calm down, he continued, “I know how I've acted during these days since everything started and I have not been very open to dialogue. For me it was… it was like crossing a forbidden boundary and I couldn't understand how you guys could jump over it without a second thought. It made my hair stand on end and I didn't… I didn't… I didn't know how to contain those emotions, I didn't know how to control them and clearly I didn't know how to express them. And the truth is that it worries me. I understand that you don't, because otherwise you wouldn't have done any of that, but I would like you to try to do that because this is not a unilateral action that will only affect you and will only be in your memories. You are affecting her too, and very much so. We were not good, not even friendly or cordial, so I need you to understand that all these things she will not see them as you think. Jungkook, you experienced it first hand. She hates us.”
Jungkook jerked on the chair and Taehyung was the one who reached over the table to take his intertwined hands. Jin sighed, finally letting the anger dissipate and Yoongi mimicked him, a little calmer as he watched his elder relax. Hoseok shook his head in assent, noticing the tension at the table dissipate a bit and how the young men held each other.
“And rightly so, because we made an inexcusable decision. And not only that, but she will now believe that it was a simple Tuesday for us and it's not. We made the promise for a reason and anything related we were supposed to consult first as a group. Sure, life happens and we get busy with a lot of things and have too much on our minds, but this was all inexcusable and we owe her more than forgiveness. We probably owe her our lives.”
“Hyung, I'm sorry…”
Jungkook was the most regretful. Since that harsh encounter, for which he dared to risk his presence in public and for which he believed it would be worth a try, Jungkook had never regretted something so much since the day of the promise. He still remembered the hatred your voice exuded and shivers ran down his spine. He had been unconscious, that was true, and he didn't know what he had let consume his body to have made that decision or to have simply acted without thinking. The possibility of seeing you again simply…blinded him. But that was never an excuse.
And Namjoon knew that. It was Jungkook who acted worse than everyone else, but he also couldn't deny to himself that had he found himself in the same predicament, with the same opportunity, he wouldn't have done the same. Maybe that's why he was so demanding of others, because that's how he reminded himself that he had no right to even think about it, much less act on their emotions, when they had taken away your choice as if they had any say in it.
“We can't erase what has already happened and what you have already done. All I ask is that you don't make it worse.” Namjoon implored, closing his eyes in silent prayer. “At this point there is no way to fix anything, and if every day we do things like this we are only inflicting pain on someone who doesn't deserve it. So please, for the love of God, leave her alone.”
The whole table was still silent, but this time Namjoon could clearly see everyone's face and notice their emotions right away, as he had always been able to do. He still didn't understand what had moved them to do all that; to Taehyung, to Jungkook, to Jin, to Jimin, despite everything they had discussed before, and he didn't understand how he hadn't been able to foresee their intentions from the beginning. But he could no longer focus on what had happened, but on what was happening and what he could still fix.
For that which had already been broken for years, Namjoon doubted too much that any of it could ever be fixed, no matter how hard he tried. And boy, would he have wanted to try.
“I'm sorry,” Jin mumbled, and it almost seemed like he had ripped the words from the back of his throat, but Namjoon took it with all his being and considered it the first victory on this new path.
When he finally dispatched everyone, Jimin remained seated to his left.
“Is there anything else you want to talk about?”
The blond looked disgruntled, and though it was clear that the tension was gone from his shoulders, in his gaze was that longing that Namjoon hadn't seen in years and certainly didn't allow in himself for all that he had previously exposed.
“Do you really think it's impossible to fix it?”
Namjoon hated knowing that the gleam in Jimin's eye had no future. At least not the one he wanted to believe. Namjoon, like everyone else, had spent sleepless nights thinking, remembering, reflecting and considering that they were never brave enough nor necessarily tough enough to earn that friendship once again. It had all gone to waste and it had been because of them.
“Yeah, I don't think that's possible.”
Jimin passed his saliva harshly, as if his mouth was dry, but he had to control and keep his emotions in check. Namjoon knew his every emotion and mainly knew how sensitive this whole issue was for Jimin, who from the beginning never agreed with him on anything and never hesitated to let him know. In fact, it took a couple of years before Namjoon could finally have this close relationship with Jimin again, until the blond decided to forgive him.
“It's silly to hope at this point, right?”
Namjoon also knew that Jimin struggled a lot to stop pointing blames, as Jin still did. He knew that, had Jimin had the opportunity in his hands several years in the past, he would have taken it and perhaps left them behind if he could. It was an extremely complex and long process to get the blond to trust Namjoon and those on his side again, which was one of the reasons why Hoseok was so insistent on talking and communicating and keeping everyone on good terms. It had cost them so much to re-form their trust that he couldn't allow it to crack once again.
Jimin nodded at his words when they were met with silence, for there was nothing Namjoon could say to comfort him. It was simply a heartbreaking situation.
“Tae and I will be with Jungkook.” Jimin assured Namjoon as he stood up. “Thank you… for trying.”
Namjoon only nodded, pressing his lips together in an attempt at a smile. Things would not automatically go back to the way they were before, as Namjoon's sternness in dealing with this issue on previous occasions was what initially caused this whole fiasco of miscommunication and hostility. He was heartily grateful that likewise Jimin took him into consideration, because he didn't know if he would be able to sleep knowing that everyone in that pent-house hated him. He didn't know if being the reason for the constant discord would allow him to have a respite of peace of mind at some point, when he was simply trying to do what he thought was best for everyone and what suited them on a sentimental level.
Kim Namjoon used to believe that he was good at dealing with any kind of problem. In his head, over which he circled as if it was a huge sphere and he was a hamster, Namjoon was sure that he could fix any situation and provide a solution to any misunderstanding, any fight or at least come to an agreement that would allow everyone to feel comfortable enough to move forward.
However, at that moment, the past tense wording was the most accurate.
Namjoon used to believe.
Jimin stopped halfway up the stairs, transfixed, and Namjoon watched him curiously. Then, the blond half-turned on his heels and Namjoon got front row view of Jimin's pale face and his exaggeratedly expanded eyes as he looked at his phone.
“Hyung…”
Namjoon came striding over, intrigued as well as concerned by the expression on the blond's face.
Jimin had his Instagram open, specifically his direct messages. There was the message there that had made Jimin stop dead in his tracks and all blood dropped to his feet, but Namjoon didn't understand what the reason for his surprise was until he saw the sender, and then his eyebrows disappeared into his hair.
y/n Let's meet
--
omg🙊🙊
tag: @rinkud@futuristicenemychaos@pastelpeachess@parapiop7@11thenightwemet11 @yoongznme @queenbloody @lynnettys-world @darlingz99 @dreamerwasfound @chaotickyrith @kokoandkookie @midiplier @thunderg @lizzymizzy-blogg @ladymorrie @butnotmontana @lovelgirl22 @jjeonjjk7 @aurorathi @ot7stansthigs @kunacat @borahaetelevision @mylovingstars @ghostlyworld @talyaaas-blog @slowlyshycomputer @jjk174 @maynina @kariningss @juju-227592 @zippaur @v4ksk4tz @kookierry @idk179634 @canarystwin @jincapableoflove @notrustfratedjin @elliott-calls @devilzliaison @ismelllikechlorine247 @19yearoldjstryingtolivelife @thatgirliehan @yuuuumii @welcometomyworld13 @sugarbaby69x @whoa-jo @cerulean1riz @kawennote09 @angelfuzzy2 @themoonsblueside @damn-u-min-yoongi @drenix004 @dhanyasri @borahaetelevision
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livwritesstuff · 8 months ago
Text
Steve comes home from a few hours of running errands with his and Eddie’s one-year-old daughter Moe to find Eddie pitching an absolute fit to his beleaguered book agent Paul over the phone.
Given how Eddie’s third book is about three months away from its release date, Steve has a pretty decent idea what the fit might be over.
The dreaded book tour.
Look – Steve doesn’t like it either. He didn’t like it back in ‘95 when Eddie’s first book came out. He didn’t like it in ‘99 with the second one either. He definitely won’t like it this time around, especially now with Moe in the picture. He actually likes having his partner around, believe it or not (and, if he’s honest, there’s still some baggage surrounding work-related travel and his parents’ relationship that he’s still trying to shake).
Still, he knows it’s a necessary evil of Eddie’s success and they’ll all survive it.
That’s Steve’s perspective anyways, even if Eddie doesn’t share it with him.
Eddie looks over as Steve drops a few bags of groceries onto the kitchen counter.
“Hang on, Paul – Steve just got back from absconding with my daughter,” Eddie says, and then he pulls the phone away from his ear, “Don’t put her down for a nap yet.”
Steve only shakes his head.
“Sorry, Paul,” he says, not raising his voice quite enough for Paul to actually hear him (Eddie hears him though, and that’s what matters) as he continues on his way up the stairs to get Moe ready for her nap (he’ll drag out the process as long as he can for Eddie’s sake – he’s not a total monster).
In the end, Eddie’s phone call ends no more than five minutes later.
“So what’s the damage?” Steve asks when Eddie makes his way into Moe’s room.
“Five weeks,” Eddie grumbles as he pulls Moe out of Steve’s arms. He presses a kiss to her chubby cheek and then adds, “Stops goddamn nation-wide.”
“Maybe stop writing so good and you wouldn’t have this issue,” Steve points out.
“Shut up – I’m not gonna do it. Paul can drop me, see if I care.”
“You’d care.”
Eddie’s shoulders slump.
“Yeah, I’d care,” he mutters, and then he shakes his head, “It’s entirely unfair that he’d expect me to leave home for over a month when he knows I have a little baby at home. I’m not doing it. She’ll be a whole teenager when I come back, Stevie.”
Steve looks at him, “It’s five weeks, love. She’ll probably still be the same shoe size.”
“I’ll miss our anniversary.”
“No, you won’t. It’s not ‘til the month after.”
“Okay, who’s side are you on here?”
“Paul’s, obviously.”
Eddie’s jaw drops as he feigns an affronted expression.
“I cannot believe that my beloved, my betrothed–”
“Betrothed?”
“–would side with my traitorous agent over–” 
“Ed, Paul was pretty forgiving when you slowed down writing for six months for the foster training stuff,” Steve points out (and it’s a point that actually manages to stop Eddie’s tirade – an impressive feat, he’s well aware), “And then he was really forgiving when you stopped completely for almost a year when Moe was born. Wasn’t this book supposed to come out, like, over a year ago? I feel like the least you can do is put up with a book tour given everything you’ve put him through.”
Eddie only blinks at him a moment – clearly trying to fathom any kind of counter-argument and coming up empty.
“Damn you,” he mutters.
“Can’t believe you used to be the guy who wanted to be a rockstar and go on year-long world tours,” Steve laughs, “Now you can’t even handle a month of the continental United States.”
“Watch your mouth, Harrington. Hey – maybe you and Moe can come and be the world’s cutest groupies.”
“We’ll see.”
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ajortga · 4 months ago
Text
sequence of events
pairing: jenna ortega x crutched?! fem reader
word count: 1.6k+
authors note: thank you so much for 800 followers, i appreciate each and every one of you. <3. my writing did not clearly match the image i wanted but i love making your requests come to life.
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based off request!
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Hi, I just recently started reading your blog but I really like the way you describe feelings, it’s simply amazing and since requests are open, I would like to ask if you could make a fem! reader who is disabled and walks on crutches, but one day Jenna accidentally pushes her and the reader almost falls into the pool and after fluff I know it’s stupid, but if you don’t want to, don’t write, it’s just my request, if you write, thank you so much! Best wishes!
-
It was not a rare sighting whenever you would be the person to catch the sympathetic stares that people shot at you whenever you walked around just perfectly.
Well, perfectly fine with crutches.
It was like almost every single day that you walked, people would slightly move to the side and give you a small nod. Or maybe they would apologize a bit too much. You think it’s happened too many times for you to count anymore. 
Ever since you were little, your left foot was physically paralyzed. You couldn’t go anywhere without having people staring at you a bit too long for your comfort. You’ve just gotten used to it.
The worst part about it was not being able to kick your feet in the air happily whenever you read a rom com. God it stunk because you would smile widely and only your right foot would be swinging, which would cause you to accidentally knock something down on your bedside table.
With the sun of summer beginning to make its grand departure, Liz, one of your best friends, planned the whole day for you two to experience the “actual hot girl summer day.” 
The months before summer, every year you’d make a whole list, preferably 6 pages long of all the summer-y things you’d spend the summer doing. But every year you’d only cross out less than a fifth of your bucket list. 
You glide your sunscreen against your skin and to the slope of your nose and tuck your hair behind your ears while watching a show displayed on your laptop.
Once you’re finished, you slowly balance yourself on your crutches and make a call to Liz.
She picks up on the first ring as you squeak out a, “I’m ready!”
-
Liz 💐: i’m here under the tree 
You slowly crutch your way out of your house and to the spot Liz’s car was at. God, there was one time that you were walking to look for her and she jumped from the damn bushes, it made you scream so loudly and almost fall on your ass.
Of course you bring out your phone, zooming into her location from the Find My Iphone app, letting out a sigh of relief when you see that her phone was where she indicated. You stand still, elbowing your crutches before sliding your phone back in your pocket.
Your steps escalate a little quicker, your crutches picking up the pace as you glance at the bush you fell in almost 6 months ago. You hate that your driveway was always parked with random cars. Basically all your friends had to resort to another location. She was still pretty far, out of sight for now.
You bring out your phone when you feel it ring again, glancing down at what it said.
Liz 💐: you look like a monster on roblox that’s just bouncing in the same spot.
Okay, what? – You narrow your eyes, not understanding how she could’ve possibly seen-
Something emerges from the pushes as your friend pops out and screams, making you scream so loudly, then start cussing her out, threatening her with one of your crutches. How the hell did she manage to do it again?
“LIZ, I’M GOING TO FUCKING-”
-
Jenna was sitting against the chairs you would see at any community pool, reading her book about tips in life, sunglasses on.
Yes, it had taken you an hour later, with Liz having to frantically push you into her car and paying for the food you wanted, for you to be somewhat sane.
After a little bit of shopping and buying new books to make you relive a rom com story, Liz holds the door for you as you walk out to the pool. Jenna’s eyes raise to the noise, looking at the door and she swears you’re the most beautiful girl she’s ever seen. Her eyes would be cursed every time she closed her eyes, your face popping up every time she dreamt. It takes her a moment but she flares up in realization, because she’s seen you before! 
She met you once when she had bumped into you from one of the coffee shops. You both had talked for an hour straight. The freckled cheeked girl remembered how alive humanity felt for her the next couple of days because of that. You both were just talking about how the seasons were so intriguing. 
People being people made her feel good whenever she thought about life for the week following.
Her eyes trail over yours, then the pattern of your nose, the way the sun kisses your cheeks in just the right way. Your hair glows in the sun as soon as you step in the light, the breeze perfectly blowing against it. You were ethereal.
Wow, was all the brunette could think as she put down her book, losing all of her interest in it because you had taken all of it. That book was stinky dinky if it meant being able to say hi to you once again and somehow impress you. 
She got up and put the book into her bag, standing up and walking behind you. As she walked beside the pool, right in front of her, she took off her sunglasses. It would be awkward if you didn’t recognize her because she had them on. 
Once she took them off, she fiddled with the lens, her fingertips lightly brushing over it to get a speck of dust off.
Next thing she knew, her shoe had got caught against bumpy brick floors and she was falling face flat into you.
She squeals, trying to catch herself so she won’t fall straight against you, especially since you were unaware, your crutches holding you steady. 
You’re a bit too focused on your friend’s deep conversation to notice what was going on, until something slams right behind your back and straight up sends you flying into the pool with a scream.
“Oh my god!” Liz yells as you bend, crutches landing on the ground nicely. Unfortunately, it was the opposite case for you as you splash into the water, the coldness making you yell. You couldn’t move. You can’t swim, how the hell does someone swim if one leg doesn’t work, you cry out for help, spluttering out water as your working leg flaps uselessly up and down the water. 
“Liz! I can’t-”
What the fuck had Jenna just done? Immediately she used the stairs right where you were and crawled down, the life guard was way too busy talking to someone to even notice the commotion. God she couldn’t let you drown-
-
You were coughing, choking on water that did not feel good at all. Your chest felt tight and hurt like shit every time you breathed in deeply. Liz and the pretty girl you recognized from when you met her at the bookstore were yelling in your face, asking you questions that just sounded like gibberish.
“Are you bouquet?”
“Ho mice god!”
“How the bell bid chu mop sea urchin?”
What. The. Hell.
“I am so sorry!” The brunette says, wrapping you in a towel and setting your crutches to your sides. You were a little too busy admiring her freckles to be mad. “I just remembered you from the other day and wanted to say hi and I fucking tripped and-”
You blink, slapping your chest over and over again as you slowly grin, that probably looked a little foolish and silly. “ ‘Ts okay, it was an accident,” you mumble, voice a little croaky as the warmth from the sun soaks up your damp clothes.
It was definitely not okay to Jenna, she thinks you might have dived head first, because now you were looking at her and grinning. Shouldn’t you be upset? God you were all toothy and everything, oh god! Did she make you crack your brain?
She should not be thinking you looked like you just came out of a movie when she accidentally pushed you into the pool!
Jenna did not know what to do, just rubbing the towel that was marshmallowed over your body. Your friend looked like she was about to explode. 
-
Jenna, in fact, did make it up to you. Because an hour later three of you guys were getting Jamba Juice smoothies and tacos. 
“God, I swear I wasn’t trying to kill you,” She rambled, mouth a little full, you noticed the way that she always used her hands as an illustrator while talking. “I just wanted to see if it was you and ask how you were and-”
“Jenna, I swear it’s fine,” you brush off, sitting on the chair while Jenna was standing up, pacing back and forth. 
“It wouldn’t have been fine if you had died, Y/N!” Jenna and Liz speak at the same time, making you sip your smoothie. Seriously, you were fine. Your clothes were for the most part, dry, and it just was a struggle to take a deep breath at some moments.
“But.. If you want and are willing..” You trail off, squirming to grab your phone as you swipe it to your contacts and place it in Jenna’s hands with one of your eyebrows raised. 
“Deal!” She said, grinning as she booped her fingers into your phone.
It was a little late at night when you crawled into bed, your right foot taking lead as you hide under the covers. You and Jenna had texted for a while, and you just got another message.
Yay! You just got a Jamba Juice gift card from your friend, Jenna!
jenna the head cracker: juice
You almost cackle, immediately scrolling through gift cards and tapping on one that was just right.
Hooray! You just sent your friend Jenna the Head Cracker a non-trip shoe deal!
you: shoes
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megalomaniacz · 9 months ago
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ENTANGLED IN YOU— WHEN WILL MY LIFE BEGIN?
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ways to help, daily click, do not support neil
ellie williams x reader
a/n: this actually isn’t the best but i’ll post it now and edit it later :D let me know what you think
tags: @astralnymphh
masterlist
once upon a time there was a beautiful princess who lived a castle…
okay maybe it was an abandoned apartment complex, and maybe she wasn’t a princess, but that isn’t the point of our story. our story focuses on how fate is inescapable.
“flower! let me up.” the doctor calls. you look outside of your broken bedroom window and quickly rush to the main room where there is a lever. you then, twist it with all your might. this triggers a series of reactions going downward which opens a space in the wall for the doctor to walk up.
this was a daily routine. doctor would go out and forage for supplies and food while you tidied up your “tower” as you called it. it wasn’t much but it was home and helped protect you from the outside world.
many years ago an outbreak occurred causing a sickness in the people of the world. doctor says it was terrifying to see. disfigured faces as a parasitic virus took over their minds.
but you were special.
you were born a few years later in a hospital doctor had been working in at the time. your mother had been seeing doctor for months and she was finally ready to deliver you. then suddenly, there was a break in. the infected monsters stormed through and bit your mother as you were being born. in a panic, doctor wrapped you up, ran as fast as she could until she found this abandoned building, and promised to always keep you safe.
she waited to see if the affects of the bite were passed onto you, and gratefully reveled in the fact that they did not. she still continued to watch you carefully. just in case. then, one day while cleaning up, she turned her head for a moment and you’d been scratched by an infected that had found its way inside the building.
you wailed and so did she before she realized that you were not turning. days began to pass and you still hadn’t turned. you were completely fine other than a small scratch on the back of your neck.
doctor rapidly got to work. after running various tests she used your blood to create a cure. it’s temporary against the infection, but it helps keep it from doing extensive damage. it gave those who were previously hopeless a reason to be hopeful.
she was excited about the results and prepared to share them with the world.
once she’d gotten in touch with the others in her field, they said in order to make a viable cure for everyone you would have to die, which she did not agree with.
so she rushed back to the tower, closed the doors, and swore to never let you leave out of fear that others would hurt you. even after you’d grown older. even after a cure had been fashioned years later from a mystery flower. even after the apocalypse had been declared over and it was semi safe to leave again. you would never leave. and she was confident that you’d never try to, until…
“are you excited for you birthday tomorrow, flower?” doctor asks as she walks into the lounge area. you were sat in the corner knitting a scarf out of yarn you’d fashioned from leaves. “i am actually. i’m more excited about the possibility of-“
“leaving to see the festival?” she finishes your sentence. you huff. “doctor, please. i look outside of my window and i see people laughing and lights shining just down the mountain. i know that a settlement is out there. have you still not checked it out?”
“no i haven’t checked it out and i’m not going to. i told you it’s probably fires started to control a large population of infected.” her tone is stern. she has checked already, it is a settlement.
you slump down in a chair next to her, hands clasped together. bottom lip sticking out. “please. please! atleast promise you’ll check on your next trip.”
she looks over at your face and smiles. “fine. we’re running out of supplies anyway. i’ll check on my trip tommorow, would that make you happy?”
“very.” you respond, smiling.
♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧
a loud clanking is heard from underneath the tower followed by a string of curses. “doctor?” you call out. your heart begins to race. what if she’s hurt again and she needs help? or more of the cure? you quickly turn the knob and listen as her footsteps get closer.
then you hear her speak and it is definitely not doctor. you hide behind the entrance, a frying pan in hand as it was the closest thing to you. you watch as the woman steps up and looks around. breathing heavily with dirt all over her. before she can turn around, you knock her hard on her head.
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lil-tachyon · 1 year ago
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What all roleplaying games have you worked on?
I'll try to name them all here but there are a lot and some of them are pretty small so I may miss a few by accident.
Epochrypha (2018) by Skerples was both the first piece of paid work I did and also the first game supplement I worked on. This is so old I was still inking digitally.
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I also provided illustrations for Magical Industrial Revolution and The Monster Overhaul by the same author.
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Monster Overhaul was neat because I did interior illustrations in early 2020 but didn't do the cover until 2022 so you can see quite a stylistic evolution.
From 2018 to 2020 things were pretty quiet for me until I worked on The Shifting City by Dank Dungeons. People really liked the cover for some reason and that basically created a career for me. I still get people asking me to basically recreate this cover a few times a year:
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I did a handful of illustrations from 2020 to 2022ish for Ukuwa Station that ended up in The Field Guide to Mfecane, a third party afrofuturist Lancer expansion.
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Our Vale of Discontent was a small game I worked on in 2020:
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Mycosis is a Mork Borg dungeon I worked on around this time, which notably marked my first attempt at doing some goofy black metal title font.
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I did most of my illustration work for Desert Moon of Karth by Joel Hines in late 2020 and early 2021:
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The sequel, Tide World of Mani is still being worked on. I just finished my last interior illustrations for it a month or two ago.
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AZAG by Dank Dungeons was a game I worked on throughout 2021 that was a blast and I think more people should know about.
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At some point in 2021 I did a bunch of pieces for Lore & Legacy although I don't remember exactly when. These never got posted but the book's been out for a while now so maybe I'll show them off later.
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Late in 2021 was when I started doing illustrations for The Electrum Archive by Emiel Boven (I think issue 2 is out soon).
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Early 2022 I did a bunch of character illustrations for some Victorian horror fantasy game that I don't think ever actually came out (commissioner never responded to me when I asked about it at least) which is a shame because I'm proud of these. At least I got paid!
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This was another one for a game that I don't think ever came out:
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I did character designs for Nebula Chaos by Polyhedra Games in 2022:
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Then Neon Saber by Olivia Miller
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Then some pieces for If Worlds Collide:
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Then Critters & Companions by Pearse Anderson:
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Ran out of space for images, I'll finish this in part 2...
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haerinari · 11 months ago
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¿What do you want me to do? — Cha Hyun-su
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pairing: Cha Hyun-su x fem!reader
genre: fluff.
warnings: tension between hyun-su and reader (?), kissing
a/n: this fic is about if it was you instead of Eun-yu in THAT scene of season2 ep8 of sweet home. when monster Hyun-su starts asking Eun-yu what should they do or, what does she want him to do.
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You were on the hospital with Hyun-Su, Eun-yu, and the soldier Chan-young. Hyun-su just had a fight with monster Yi-kyung, he was all covered in blood, and right now he was sleeping in one of the hospital rooms. This is the first time that you could properly see Hyun-su after what happened on Green Home, it has been months since the last time you saw him. You and Hyun-su had a “thing” before, both of you liked each other, but nothing actually happened.
“Is he even alive?” the soldier said standing up from his chair. “he has been lying on the floor for the past 25 minutes”.
“Maybe he is just tired, Yi-kyung noona was a very special person for him” you explained.
“Go check on him, y/n” the short hair girl suggested. “Probably he will speak to you”.
“Okay” you simply answered.
You opened the door of the room, now seeing an awake Hyun-su sitting on the corner of the small bed.
“Cha Hyun-su” you said, no answer. “Cha Hyun-su…”
He turned his head, opening slowly his eyes and looking at you. They were now a beautiful blue color, but that just could mean one thing, the Hyun-su you knew, was gone.
He stand abruptly from the bed, looking into your eyes and walking towards you. Was he going to hurt you? No, Hyun-su would never do that. You took a bar of metal that was on the floor, you know, just in case.
“Are you going to hit me with that?” he asked.
“Bring him back” you said firmly. “Bring Hyun-su back, now”
“His hurt, leave him to rest. I was just helping him out because he was hurt. Give me a break” Hyun-su said looking at himself in the mirror. His shoulder was hurt, it had an open wound and it was still bleeding. But a few seconds later, it was completely gone.
“Wasn’t Hyun-su in control?” you asked him.
“I’m also Hyun-su”
“Not you, the real Hyun-su.”
“We agreed to help each other, it wouldn’t be great for me if he died” the monster explained.
“Just leave him alone and get lost” you said without hesitation, you wanted to talk with your Hyun-su.
“Really? Would you be okay with that?” Hyun-su said coming closer and closer to you. “Would you be okey with Cha Hyun-su who is weak?”
“Yeah, i will be totally fine with that Hyun-su”
He was now inches away from you, his tall and strong figure almost covering yours. Hyun-su lowered his head in a way that now his face was on the same level as yours, his eyes were scanning your face, and you were just standing still.
“What are you doing?” you asked almost in a whisper, nervousness covering your body.
“I don’t know” he paused, a cocky smirk covering his face. “What do you want me to do?”
He came to your face even closer, his lips almost touching yours. You didn’t now what to answer, it was like your voice was totally gone. Having Hyun-su this close was a new sensation that your body was actually enjoying a lot.
“I bet that he haven’t even kiss you before.” Hyun-su said laughing a bit. “I have to admit it, we have good taste, ‘cause you’re a pretty pretty girl…”
“Then do it” you whisper softly, the words just slipping from your mouth.
“As you wish” he answered.
His lips crash directly into yours, one of his hands cupping your cheek while the other one was holding your waist. Your hands were on his neck, trying to pull him closer and feel every single part of him on your body. This was the first time you kiss Hyun-su since what happened on green home, and god, you’ve miss him so much.
You broke softly the kiss, opening your eyes now to see normal Hyun-su back, his brown eyes with a look of surprise and his cheeks getting red.
“I’m glad your back” you smiled, your hands going through his hair and pulling him into a hug.
“Did he said something mean to you?” Hyun-su asked worried.
“No he didn’t, but he did something you didn’t do before…” you answered.
“I didn’t knew if you still like me…” he said looking down, his hands now holding yours. “I needed a boost of confidence to prove it and he was the only candidate i had”
“You could just ask Eun-yu, you know she is my best friend” you said smiling.
“I did, and she told me to discover it by myself” you laughed.
“Well, now you do know how i feel about you” you told him, his head hiding on the crook of your neck. you loved how shy he got around you.
“I missed you” he said now looking at your face. “I was always thinking about you, you were on my mind all the time”
“I’ve miss you too Hyun-su, but please… don’t leave again” you told him, almost begging him not to leave.
“I won’t leave, not when i have you here with me again”
You pull him into a hug again, you could stay like this for ever, with him.
“I love you” you said to him, watching his cheeks become red again. “Why do you get all shy when i say cute things to you” you asked laughing.
“You make me nervous” Hyun-su laughing with you. “I love you too”
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lauren-ce · 4 months ago
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"A Nightmare at Green Lake" is a Queer Coming-Out Story
[This essay has a PDF version; the images are crisper there]
I'm probably nine months late to this particular party, but I just finished the excellent Reverse: 1999 event "A Nightmare at Green Lake" and wanted to make a case for reading it as a story about coming out, focusing on Blonney and her repressed sexuality. It's a love letter to horror films, and a love letter to girls that love girls. Crucially, it is more the latter than the former; Green Lake is a coming-out story that uses the horror film trappings as a storytelling device, not a hard and fast rule. Spoilers for the entire event.
(All my screenshots are taken from this video, which does a wonderful job capturing the entire event.)
The inciting incident in Green Lake began years before. Jennifer visits the camp regularly as a child, writing horror stories in her diary and reading them to Jessica, who loves them. Then, Jennifer suddenly has to move away, and thus, the Incident takes place.
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Blonney/Jennifer threw her diary into the lake when she was forced to leave, drowning three things:
1). Her horror stories and love of horror
2). Her acceptance of her identity as an Arcanist
3). Her gay-ass self
She joins human society despite being Different and tries to blend in. She changes her name to Blonney, feigns an interest in fashion, and conforms to social norms. "Monstrous and forbidden" becomes a theme in this event which describes horror, but it also describes queer identity (this will be important later). Blonney discards her identity, drowning it in the lake.
Now allow me the rest of this rambling essay to make a point for that third thing (and to make the case that "loving horror" and "being an Arcanist" is the same thing as "being gay"). Throughout the first half of the event, we see Blonney consistently reject her love of horror movies. She calls them cliche and stupid, easy to make and low-class. Despite secretly loving them, she's built up a persona that isn't allowed to like horror.
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Yet she takes an awful lot of offense to criticism of her script. . .
Anne, a recent hire to replace a sick member of Blonney's film crew (who is secretly Jessica in disguise), is mistreated by Blonney for being a naive, small-town country bumpkin that doesn't know anything. Within the movie that Blonney is shooting, Anne is typecast as the "Virgin": Christian, unassuming, sheltered, in contrast to Blonney's "Blondie": indulgent, vain, etc.
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Oops, are the characters in the fake movie they're shooting maybe perhaps based on their real-world counterparts???
A contrast is drawn between the two by Blonney and the narrative at first. Throughout the rest of the event, the distance between them and their character archetypes will crumble. The important thing to remember is that Anne/Jessica is a representation of everything Blonney has rejected about herself.
As actual horror-movie type events begin to happen to the group, the characters are genre-savvy enough to realize they're in a horror story. The culprit, though this isn't revealed until later, is Anne/Jessica. She's an Arcanist and has been using her shapeshifting abilities to make a horror movie happen to the group. Ironically, the group looks to Anne as the "Last Girl", the pure and unsullied one that will survive the night.
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In actuality, this is a false flag. Since Anne is Jessica is the Monster, she can't be the Last Girl.
The Last Girl is actually Blonney:
I spoiled it already, but the viewer doesn't learn until the halfway point that Blonney is actually from the area, having grown up and making frequent visits. This is why she sees herself in Anne, a gay girl from a small town. Game recognize game, gay recognize gay. Blonney uses a fake name for a fake identity. Jessica sees her actual self, and calls her Jennifer. This isn't a deadnaming, Anne/Jessica sees Blonney as she truly is deep down. Though Blonney doesn't realize it, Anne cuts her to her core, which directly leads to her mistreatment.
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Anne's peculiar interactions with Blonney are some of the first hints we get of the true narrative: Why is Anne so nice to her, despite the way she's treated? And more importantly, how would Anne, a newcomer to Blonney's film crew, know Blonney's real name/true identity? Blonney certainly never would've told her, she rejects her own identity, after all. This is a big nod to the true workings of the plot. Anne knows more than what she lets on. Why does Blonney not realize that Anne knows more than she should? Because Blonney is actively trying to reject that part of her—she's blind to it. If she were to acknowledge that Anne knows her true self, then the story would already be over.
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On top of rejecting her love of horror, Blonney also rejects her identity as an Arcanist. This identity alienates her from her friends—they consider her a peer up until the horror story begins happening to them. The very second it is no longer convenient, they reject her as one of them and other her. The only member of her original film crew that doesn't reject her for being an Arcanist is, you guessed it, Anne.
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However much you despise us, many brilliant playwrights are Queer. I mean—"Arcanists".
Horror events continue happening: a butcher chases around members of the group and monsters attack others. Vertin (R1999's main character), along with Horrorpedia, Sonetto, and Tooth Fairy, provide support, killing monsters and moving the plot along. In many of the monsters the groups find notes, pieces of paper that begin to tell a story—stories within the story. Using their knowledge of horror tropes, the main characters stay alive while Blonney's human film crew seemingly perishes at the hands of the various monster assailants.
After one such attack, Tooth Fairy (an Arcanist), gives first aid to Blonney. During the scene the two have a small argument. Tooth Fairy refuses to use Arcanist medicine to treat Blonney, because Blonney sees herself as a human. This gives Blonney a chance at some introspection, her first time opening up during this event.
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Even Blonney's blood knows the truth she's suppressed.
All this happens while Tooth Fairy treats her wounds. Interesting that they're on her inner thigh, hmmm? A MILFy doctor rendering first aid to a girl's inner thighs while explaining that she's rejecting her own identity? I'm sure there's nothing to read into here.
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As the plot progresses, Anne repeatedly risks her life to save Blonney. She leaps from a car to save her from a monster, and she later kills the butcher that's been chasing them. This earns her Blonney's trust, which leads to the big, plot-turning confession. At the halfway mark, Blonney is able to sit down with Anne/Jessica and confides in her.
A gay awakening ensues: Blonney feels down about her loss of identity, wanting to reclaim her love of horror. Her facade, she explains, is just that. Blonney threw away her identity as a horror-loving Arcanist in an effort to integrate with society. This conversation takes place after a danger has just been defeated, yet is one of the emotional climaxes. Blonney begins to want to accept her true identity. Throughout, Jessica repeatedly praises Blonney, telling her how amazing and wonderful she is, all the while the two cuddle on a couch.
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*Does a gay little hair flip after holding hands. "You can be rougher with me, you know."
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To her horror, the rest of the group hears. They had this discussion in the same room, after all, but in contrast to Blonney's old friend group, her new friends support her wholeheartedly. Then, Tooth Fairy hands Blonney the symbol of her self-actualization: her diary, which she'd found in the attic (yes, the same diary that had been thrown into the lake!!! Blonney has now retrieved her diary, her love of horror, and her identity as an Arcanist, all the things she threw away as a child.
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Blonney retrieves her diary, which represents suppressed homosexuality through multiple metaphors, and achieves self-actualization thanks to her supportive friend group and a girl with a massive crush on her. The Monstrous and Forbidden are now part of her. Now the gay things really step up.
What happens next is a direct result of Blonney coming to terms with her queerness: a woman in a wedding dress shows up and attempts to marry her.
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Monstrous and Forbidden, all in one package.
The woman is a zombie (because we're working with horror tropes, yeah?) but the message couldn't be more clear. Blonney has opened up to Anne/Jessica about loving horror (being queer). Now Blonney must face what that means. Consider: the corpse bride searches for her beloved (literally another bride, this could not be more fucking clear). Who is to play bride to the corpse bride? It's Blonney! The corpse bride forces Blonney down and puts a wedding ring onto her finger. The narrative has allowed Blonney to come out—now it will test her resolve.
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The corpse bride is a mixed bag of metaphors. Textually, the corpse bride is a character from the horror story written in Blonney's diary. She was killed by her husband and searches for him so she can place the wedding ring back on his finger. Metatextually, the bride represents Jessica: Blonney abandoned her, effectively "killing" her. Now the scorned bride searches for her lost love.
To sum up: Jessica=Corpse Bride:
1). She searches for her lost love every night (Jessica misses Blonney)
2). She wears a hempen collar (brides don't wear collars, but Jessica does)
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Blonney rises to the challenge, she defeats the corpse bride with her newfound arcanist powers, and the group pieces together the clues that the bodies carry. Her new friends are proud of her!
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Horrorpedia (annoying fuckwad that he is) nicely sums up the message: by embracing their identities, they can fight back.
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All the horror story clues lead to the dead body in the water. "But wait," you say, "Green Lake doesn't feature a dead body in the water." Wrong! Blonney was dead all along, remember? The corpse is Blonney's diary! Her dead body is the horror-loving gay self she killed when she threw her diary into the lake to reject her identity!
More plot happens; the story reaches a climax with Blonney using her magic to aid the group's escape from a lighthouse. On the same shore that Blonney first told Jessica all her horror stories, the same shore she killed her identity on, they confront Jessica, now revealed as the Monster. This whole plotline is the result of Blonney rejecting her identity; now is the time to make everything right.
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Jessica is proud of Blonney becoming her true self. However, she's also tired of waiting for her. She's tired of being alone. Jessica offers Blonney a life of bliss: a soft bed of moss for them to share, the sweetest forest fruits, and monsters to keep her company.
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When Blonney refuses to live at Green Lake forever with her, it's taken as a rejection. A fight ensues—Blonney and her group win, but the emotional arc of the story has yet to resolve.
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Blonney has a chance to reject her queer identity once more. She both does and doesn't. Blonney accepts the monstrous and forbidden by accepting Jessica, a literal monster, and her queerness, the Forbidden. She rejects the monstrous and forbidden by asking Jessica to come with her, to rejoin society, to hide their identities as Arcanists (queer) and live together. Jessica rejects this. She will not be closeted. (The fear she feels at being outed as an arcanist is very similar to the fear of being outed as queer in a hostile society, eh?) This of course puts Blonney under duress—how can the story end happily?
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Vertin comes in with a grenade of an offer: Jessica can come stay in the St. Pavlov Institute with her and learn to coexist with people like her. She can live with people that don't see her as weird, despite being monstrous (queer), an Arcanist (queer), and a lover of horror (queer). Vertin hasn't done much up to this point outside of moving the plot along and fighting monsters; this is her time to shine, and she shines like the lesbian lodestar we know her to be. Her conversation with Jessica is tinged with language that could easily be read as romantic, but Vertin isn't here to steal anyone's girl, she's here to offer a happy ending for everyone that guarantees the goal of each party is fulfilled. Vertin's presence is what allows this story to ultimately break free from its horror trappings. Her third option is not a compromise; it is the ending we wanted.
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And what an ending it is! It's happy and good in every possible way it could be. The happiness of the ending is a large part of why I call this a coming-out story primarily rather than a horror tale. A slasher film like the ones this event draws inspiration from would see Blonney (the true Final Girl) as the only survivor of her group, still running from the monster and her own self. Instead, all her friends survive, having been held captive in Jessica's den. Blonney comes into her own; she and Jessica reconcile—we get the gay end!
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Blonney leaves to finish college as a self-actualized queer woman; Jessica acheives her wish of never being alone and joins the institute to gain an education herself. I have no doubt that they will reunite, and soon: the entire plot of R1999 is Vertin recruiting every arcanist she can to ensure their safety from the Storm. Blonney's future leads directly to St. Pavlov. (For further supporting evidence, see her voice line about taking Jessica for a walk! Even before Blonney graduates, they get to be togetherrrrrrrrrrr!)
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Even if you don't play R1999, please please check out this event. It has a lot to say, and it's one of my favorite things I've read all year. The soundtrack fucking whips, and it goes far in helping balm the weeping wound of the tragic yuri that is Vertin/Schneider.
Again, give some love to the video that made this document possible.
I've rambled long enough, so I'll let Tooth Fairy wrap this up with a bow: Love Wins
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148 notes · View notes
ryanmarshallryan · 6 months ago
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Pride Pool Party
Here is a vore story inspired by a scenario requested by @malebellyvore987
Nathaniel and Jonathan were having a lot of fun celebrating their first pride month together as boyfriends. They went to the local parade and watched all the fun floats go by, waving to their friends who were marching along among the floats. Nathaniel’s younger brother, Hector, had never been to a pride parade but had always wanted to go, so they let him tag along.
“I think Mario’s hosting a pool party sometime later today,” Jonathan mentioned to Nathaniel as they watched a gay men’s chorus march by blasting Chappel Roan, “did you wanna stop by for a bit? Maybe after we drop off Hector?”
Before Nathaniel could chime in, Hector who had been listening blurted out “Pool party! I wanna come!”
“Hector, this won’t be like one of your college frat parties,” Nathaniel responded, adjusting his sunglasses in the hot sun, “I think the dress code is speedos… or less.”
“C’mon we don’t have a pool, and it is soooo hot. I don’t have a problem with guys there assuming I’m gay,” Hector retorted.
“Yeah, but isn't this like your first pride? We don’t wanna overwhelm you too much,” Jonathan added.
“Guys relax, I can blend in. Anyways I’d spend most of my time under the water, not bothering anybody…” Hector replied, now beginning to pull his sweat drenched shirt off over his head, “but I’ll let everyone enjoy the view.”
“Gross,” Nathaniel joked when Hector revealed his skinny toned frame. Someone on a float whistled at him and Hector spun his shirt around over his head in response.
After making their way back through the crowds and taking the subway, they found their friend Mario’s apartment complex and headed over to the secluded pool area. 
The scene had been decked out in the vomit of a rainbow monster. Multi-colored streamers adorned the fence. A rainbow-sequined fabric was strung up near a box of props for photo taking. The pool was littered with rainbow and pool donuts, and the snack table was arranged as well with donuts adorning rainbow designs. Hector admired some particularly lewd posters hanging by a changing area, and saw a caption underneath that read like “Made by an actual, full-time gay man, not but some money hungry conglomerate that showers the world in rainbows only one month a year.”
Nathaniel and Jonathan found their way into a changing area, visited with Mario and chatted a bit, then dove into the pool to cool off for a bit and socialize with the other swimmers. Jonathan began to remark “where’s Hector,” when they saw a flash above their heads as Hector jumped over them in only his underwear and did a cannonball in the center of the crowd.
“Well, there’s your answer,” said Nathaniel, wiping water out of his eyes.
Hector stayed true to his word and began exploring under the water to get out of the heat. At one point he came up to Jonathan and Nathaniel and whispered, “I’ve never seen so many yahoos in my life!”
“Yahoos? You sound like you're twelve,” Nathaniel replied.
“Hector, maybe don’t stalk guys' junk from under the water,” Jonathan added, “It’s kinda weird.”
“Only admiring, don’t worry,” Hector said, then pointing to a guy across the pool, “He’s been doing it, too.”
“I think I’m gonna go dive into the pool,” Nathaniel said, searching for an excuse to leave this uncomfortable conversation. 
Hector nodded goodbye, then went off jumping back underwater and splashing nearby swimmers who were caught off guard.
Nathaniel closed his eyes and took a deep breath and tried to convince himself that everything was going great, willing the universe to not let his brother mess up his pride pool party day. Apparently the universe had other plans. For the moment Nathaniel opened his eyes and lept head first to dive into the water, he saw a slim figure approaching from the depths of the pool, that was not his reflection.
It happened very quickly. Hector, who had been playing around sitting on the bottom of the deep end, then coming up for air at the last second, zoomed to the surface and opened his mouth as wide as he could to take in a big gulp of air. But instead he got a face full of his brother, Nathaniel, who slammed hard into the back of his throat, and kept sliding down with astonishing speed into his rapidly expanding stomach. Nathaniel felt his arms crumple against his body, as he was forced to curl up, tightly encased in the balloon of his brother’s stomach. Hector, had the wind knocked out of him from the unexpected gulp of Nathaniel, and experienced a short period of shock as he tried to suck in air but could not pull down his diaphragm. 
Jonathan swam over, planning to greet Nathaniel in the pool, and wiped the water out of his face to find Hector, who was now wheezing with his torso under the water.
“Hector, are you okay? Did you swallow a bunch of water or something?” Jonathan asked, concernedly.
Hector tried to respond but was still too out of breath to form words. But a guttural, mumbled and grumbling sound issued out of his throat. Hector took one more deep breath and opened his mouth to speak, but instead found another voice issuing from out of his throat saying, “Oh he swallowed something all right!”
Jonathan looked down in surprise. He assumed the large view of Hector’s gut was simply an illusion of the light refracting in the water. He plunged under the water, opened his eyes to the stinging chlorine, and put his ear to Hector’s deformed and distended belly, which was forming the exact shape of his boyfriend in fetal position. He could hear frustrated grunting.
“Hector, you ate my boyfriend? You ate your brother?” Jonathan yelled in confusion.
Hector replied with a sheepish, toothy smile to show apology. “In my defense he literally dove down my throat,” Hector replied, now rubbing his tight gut.
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“Regardless of how it happened, it’s time to get him out. Right now,” Jonathan tried to push on Hector’s stomach, but ended up just pushing Hector through the water to the shallow end. Swimmers they passed by stopped the conversation to gaze at the unexpected view of the tight man-filled belly emerging out of the water. “Nothing to see here people, unless you got some emetic drugs or something.”
Jonathan got Hector up against a wall of the pool and continued pushing, but that just made Nathaniel more uncomfortable, and as he tried to wriggle around to avoid being squeezed too hard by the stomach and added pressure of Jonathan’s hands, Hector moaned in discomfort as his insides were pressed tightly against his spine to make room for the comparatively gigantic mass in his gut. 
Next, Jonathan made Hector open his mouth wide again, and tried to shove his arms down Hector’s throat to grab Nathaniel and pull him out. This not only did not work, it had the opposite result, as Hector’s peristalsis kicked in and he began swallowing Jonathan as well.
Jonathan had just enough time to yell “I need a big strong bear to pull me out of this!!!” before his head was sucked in along with his arms into Hector’s powerful esophagus. 
By the time the bears had been summoned, Jonathan was up past his groin into Hector’s mouth and throat, and his arms and head had reached the stomach. Jonathan and Nathaniel got closer than they ever got before as they were crushed between Hector’s clammy stomach walls, with tingling stomach acid and sweat making it difficult to grip onto one another.
One of the bears reached his arms around the slender waist of Hector from the back and picked him up, with pressure on the lower half of Hector’s belly. Two other bears grabbed hold of Jonathan’s legs, which only the lower half of were showing outside of Hector’s mouth. Mario came over too and started chanting “1… 2… 3… Heave!!!” over and over again. LIttle by little, inch by inch, they pulled Jonathan’s body back out of Hector’s maw. Jonathan was trying his best to hold tight to Nathaniel, but as his head made it past Hector’s face, he felt his hands slipping. Luckily one of the bears noticed, grabbing onto Nathaniel’s wrist and pulling with a great might. 
Once Nathaniel and Jonathan were freed from Hector’s surprisingly powerful and durable stomach, the lot of them waded in the water with the bears, all catching their breath. The guys thanked the bears, who thanked them for an unexpected and interesting experience. One of the bears tickled Hector’s belly and joked that the little’s stomach was much bigger than his eyes it seemed. The other bear that had held Hector from the back gave Hector a slap on the butt, and swam on.
The last of the bears admired Nathaniel and Jonathan saying, “Hey if you two ever wanna have fun inside a gut that’s actually roomy enough to hold both of you, send me a message.” He pulled a sticky note pad and a pen out of his pocket and wrote his number down twice and gave it to each of them. The bear gave them a wink, and swam backwards, letting his belly rise above the water, looking like a whale coming up for air.
“How did that guy have a dry piece of paper in his pocket?” Jonathan asked.
“Honestly a lot of surprising things happened today and that’s the least of my concerns,” Nathaniel replied.
Jonathan held the paper up out of the water to avoid getting it wet, “Well, it could be fun to try something new.”
Mario dove into the water next to them and came to chat. “All right, Hector? Maybe refrain from eating these lads in the future,” he said, patting Jonathan and Nathaniel on the backs, “but if I run into any willing meals I’ll send them your way,” he said with a wink.
“Oh, no, that was all an accident, I didn’t mean to - wait, there are guys willing to - ” Hector began.
“Thanks so much for hosting, Mario. Sorry for my brother. He gets nervous and starts stress eating in crowds,” Nathaniel cut him off.
“No I don’t! Don’t make me - “ Hector began again.
“Well don’t just be food, come eat some! We’ve got a great buffet over by the changing rooms. And I mean eat as much as you can, I do not have the fridge space for all of this,” Mario implored them.
“I think I know a guy who could definitely help with that,” Nathaniel said, just before playfully punching Hector in the gut. “Race ya,” and they were off to the buffet to fill their bellies, and enjoy the rest of the pride pool party.
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verilly · 7 months ago
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On my knees for some post-Mithrun fluff rn.
POST MITHRUN FLUFF? I gotchu 😎 it’s going to be bullet points b t dubs, just so I can catch the right mind set… THANKSYU 4 THE REQUEST ILY <3
Mithrun x Reader
•••|•••|•••|•••|•••
Right. So after canon he heads back to Melini (with you, of course) to scout out monsters and demons with his side hustle of making noodles! So as a noble yourself, you follow him to help achieve his dreams!
However, Mithrun is still ticked off at the part where reviving isn’t a plausible option after death, so he’s extremely careful with you. So much so that after a month or so with you trailing with him on his search for monsters, he tosses you in the noodle shop (with the land he had claimed with his noble blood).
At this point, he’s been so surrounded in his want for monster/demon blood that he hasn’t exactly made any progress with the noodle making… and well, neither have you. So there you sat, alone in a big restaurant, with no customers at all, no one to keep you company or to keep you entertained!
So that’s when you decide to try to cook noodles on your own!
You grabbed as many how to guide’s you could from books all over your country, which included recipes from the western territories all the way to the eastern islands! You even scrounged up some old tattered papers from the ex-canaries, Senshi, and the trash.
Collecting herbs, grains, and whatever monster-like ingredients Laios sent to you through the mail.
You decided to keep most of your habits a secret from Mithrun, or at least as you can from him because you wanted to be the one to teach him when the day comes he wanted to pursue his other desire. You always schedule your time practicing for when he's away, and Mithrun being the man that he is always has a set pattern on doing things. Meaning he always came back home almost at the exact same time everyday.
The only other times he'd come home at a later time is when he gets lost, for he has the time of his life navigating the city streets. (This is rare because he likes using his teleportation magic a lot more than actually walking.)
So on this very special day, once you've decided your skills are up to the test, you served him home made noodles. Not only were they home made, so was the sauce/broth. You were quite proud of making such a delicious meal, now it was time to share your talent with your lover.
"Mithrun, wake up, I have a very special breakfast to share with you!" You say, pushing him back and forth from his sleeping state. You'd waken up hours earlier to prepare for this momentous occasion.
No response.
Maybe you should have planned the scheduling better? This was earlier than usual for the ex-captain to wake up... No! You were his partner, he should wake up for you!
"Mithrun wake up!!!" You groan loudly, stopping all your movements before shoving your face into his blanketed stomach, "Please please please please!"
With no words to utter, Mithrun begrudgingly arose from the bed, sitting right up to face you. You beamed with excitement as he looked to face you.
"Why don't you join me down at the resturaunt floor? I have set up something quite amazing down there." You put a finger to your chin and smile, "Plus I think you'll like it a lot!!"
Down the steps the two of you went, where in arrival was the bowl of noodles you had prepared only minutes before. They were served with scallions, mushrooms, a pantry load of seasonings, and whatever meat you had bought fresh from the market a day before.
"What is this?"
"It's noodles! That I made.. for you... 'cause you said you wanted to make them yourself and.... I can see where I messed up a little, but I did it so that I can help you in the future! When you wish to fufill your desire of noodle making!!!" You sheepishly say, a much smaller smile creeping up on your lips.
"I never said you messed up." He said smoothly, teleporting away from you and into the seat in front of the food. You follow closely behind him, sitting at the seat next to him.
"Go on, take a bite! It'll be all for nothing if we run out of time and you need to go out monster hunting." You tilt your head to the right, clasping your hands together.
He looks down at the meal in front of him, and his good eye flickers up and down between you and the noodles. After a few seconds past he picked up the nice utensils you placed next to the bowl and took his first bite.
"So how does it taste? Do you like it??!"
"I don't feel anything in particular for it." He murmurs calmly.
"Ah." Your world view shatters for a moment, before sucking in your pride, "So what makes you feel that way? I thought it was really good, but our tastes are quite different from each other..."
"It's a little too flavorful for me, but I'm... grateful that you spent so much time perfecting this for me. How long was it? A few months?"
"What!!? How did you know that I was..."
"You can't hide things from me, [name]. You'll never be able to succeed."
You stare at him for a second before collapsing on the table before you, "Arghh! I totally thought everything was going to go great, but as it turns out... Mithrun is just too good for me." You pull the bowl towards you, taking the utensils from Mithrun's hand, "And if you don't like it then you don't need to eat it."
"It's not my taste, but I don't mind. Please, I'd rather not leave any left overs, especially if it's a meal from you." His face seemed to soften as he said those few words, and your face reddened in response, letting out an "oh" as you correct your posture.
"Well then if you have time off anytime soon, you could stay here and I could teach you how to make your own noodles that suit your own taste. Then we could actually open the resturaunt to the people." You say sweetly, looking down at the food, watching it dissapear by each passing minute, "I'm sure every being here in Melini would love to eat food made by the hands of a noble. Maybe even the Canaries can home, I'm sure they'd enjoy a meal made by their captain."
"Mm... I'll stay here for today. My desire's growing after eating this d- uhm. Delicious meal you made for me." He states simply, putting the empty bowl and utensils to the side.
"Alright then." You get up from the seat next to him and take his hand, "I'll teach you everything I know." Another smile perks up on your lips as you pull him to the kitchen.
Mithrun in a kitchen. Who could've guessed?!
He's not very skilled at cutting, buthis use of magic fills in the void quite perfectly.
You help him a lot, which includes taking his hands in yours when he begrudgingly uses the knife.
He likes your touches but not the “weapon” in his hands.
You also teach him to pound the noodles, which you usually put lots of energy into, but for him not so much. You have to fill in for him most of the time.
There will come a day where Mithrun won’t go out on expeditions and instead stays with you in the restaurant, for a long time.
And to him, he wouldn’t want to spend his last few (hundreds of) years any differently.
•••|•••|•••|•••|•••
I tried to make it flufffy I don’t know if this is fluff
I hope you liked it :3 pls keep sending me stuff it’ll take like a day - ish for me to fill it out but I def will!!!!!!!
My masterlist is on profile :3
Lots of love, Yours truly.
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alacants · 2 months ago
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if you saw the full video of carlos alcaraz and his team watching rafa's retirement announcement, perhaps you noticed that his coach seemed, dare i say it, reluctant to join in. if you follow juanki and/or jcf academy on social perhaps you noticed that amidst effusive tributes from across the spanish tennis establishment both were conspicuously silent. why the seeming reticence from one spanish great to the spanish great? well. WELL.
juanki, rafa, and the case of the green-eyed monster
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("but user alacants, in creating this post aren't you ignoring the vagaries of human nature in favor of imposing a narrowly crafted narrative onto a twenty-year relationship that is probably both more complex and less contentious than you make it out to be?"
of course i am. what are you, new?)
davis cup 2004
prior to 2004 juanki was Mr Davis Cup. he often cites the 2000 cup (where his win decided the tie) as the most meaningful title of his career, more so than roland garros. then 2004 rolls around, spain makes their third final in 5 years… and the day before the tie begins juanki is dropped from the lineup in favor of some 18 year old who's never even played a match at roland garros. (<- actually. isn't that crazy??)
"obviously i am not jumping up and down with happiness." and to be fair to him everyone else sounded baffled as well. and then… the 18 year old had the nerve to play andy roddick in front of a record-breaking 27k home crowd and win.
to twist the knife: at the last minute juanki got named to the doubles match alongside tommy robredo and they got CRUSHED, just absolutely destroyed, by the bryan brothers. held serve once in three sets. 
so it is maybe not a surprise that afterwards juanki does not exactly look happy despite nominally winning a major trophy.
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it's noticeable enough to make the news. rafa is forced to tell the press nooooo, it's not true that they don't get along. juanki then goes on the record to say that on the trip back from sevilla the captains were only paying attention to nadal and moya, the winners, and ignoring him and tommy, the losers. while this may be true there is no way to make it sound good that you're saying it, yk.
(if you click through you will see that in the same interview he describes himself and rafa as "good friends." rafa goes on to describe them as friends on several more occasions! juanki does not.)
three months later, spain went out in the first round of the 2005 cup, 4-1 to slovakia. juan carlos was not part of the team lmao. and indeed a qualification play-off in september would be his last taste of davis cup action for several years. (that last call-up was ferru's first btw. red string of fate. SORRYYYY I KNOW IT'S NOT ABOUT THEM.)
roland garros 2005
unfortunately if you're juanki it did not get better. here he is in 2005 "[accusing] spanish media of a nadal obsession." (that link will also give you a taste of the contemporary fan discourse lmao.) he was baited, but also, they baited him because they knew he'd rise to the occasion.
rafa nadal btw had just played his first roland garros, which he won. juanki at rg: "unlike the media-designated extraterrestrials i'm just a HUMBLE PLAYER trying to win matches. i'm not one of the favorites but maybe if i keep trying…" he was then forced to deny he was jealous.
(this was shortly after rafa beat him for the title in barcelona, resulting in this cheerful take: "when you're on a high like nadal is everything seems to go right - but it doesn't last forever.")
rafa, meanwhile, is not helping:
QUESTION: Other than Carlos Moya, were there any other Spanish players you grew up watching, admiring? Did you follow Juan Carlos at all when you were growing up? RAFAEL NADAL: No, my favorite was Moya.
rome 2008
the hits continue. by 2008 rafa nadal is THE spanish tennis man, he's the guy everyone thought juanki was going to be. (ouch.) and now they are about to meet in rome. rafa btw has been undefeated on clay since the famous federer hamburg final, for an overall record of 117-4 since 2005. he's never lost in rome.
so imagine the reaction when juanki actually wins.
—wait did you think it was something like "ferrero shocks king of clay in tantalizing return to form." lol of course it's not, it's "nadal suffers freak loss due to blisters." harsh? rafa didn't think so: "i congratulate juan carlos, but today for sure was not my best tennis."
never mind that juanki was also playing through injury, bad enough that it took him out of barcelona then functionally killed his roland garros. (safe to assume that after 2004 he's more or less always injured.) this is typical sports media syndrome, nothing new or particularly unexpected. but once again: juanki is not, like, shy about expressing his thoughts.
QUESTION: The fact that Rafa was injured - he complained about the foot injury at the press conference here - what does that take away from your win? Do you feel it takes a little bit of shine away from your win? JUAN CARLOS FERRERO: [...] When you go to the court and you decide to play, I think the injury is not reason to say yes or no… You know, at the end I play a little bit better than him. I don't know if it was big reason to don't play at his best level, the injury. QUESTION: How much do you think this loss and the injury is going to affect Nadal's preparation for Roland Garros? JUAN CARLOS FERRERO: I don't know. Maybe you have to ask him. 
fortunately (???) this match was immediately followed by an explosive spanish tennis row that ended with top players including juanki and rafa joining hands in solidarity to push the president of rfet out of his job, so this did not become the topic it might have otherwise. 
davis cup 2009
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it's now 2009. juanki hasn't played a davis cup tie since 2005. he's just dropped out of the top 100. and then… rafa and ferru get injured. juanki gets a dc call-up. he heroically saves the qf tie! he wins his sf rubber! his teammates are tossing him in the air, the crowds are chanting his name! he doesn't make the final roster bc everyone is healthy but he's a reserve, he's there with the team. they sweep the tie, the heroes are undisputedly his special friend ferru (epic comeback) + verdasco/lopez (deciding win over undefeated opponents). …and then they go for the obligatory meeting with the prime minister who's like, RAFA YOU WON THE DAVIS CUP FOR US THANK YOU SOOOO MUCH WE LOVE YOU.
a lot of people were unhappy about this, presumably (??) including actual rafa. afterwards, juanki says, "most of the team thought it was disrespectful." one wonders who was not included in "most."
(honestly? probably feli lopez.)
valencia 2013
speaking of actual rafa, did he notice and/or care about anything of this? i mean he definitely noticed. but i assume he didn't care. (rafa experts are welcome to chime in here.) after all, a couple years later rafa spoke at juanki's retirement ceremony. there was a hug and everything!
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so like, ok, they are cordial, they are friendly, rafa's place is cemented in history and juanki is retired anyway. THEN less than a year later rafa pulls out of juanki's beloved valencia open to enter a different more lucrative tournament instead and he is fully dead to juanki who is calling him out in the press like, i think it's his DUTY as a SPANIARD to support a spanish tournament.
which event did he choose instead, btw? Roger Federer's Basel™. which he hadn't played since 2004. and then he ended up withdrawing anyway. there was some conspiracy theory type thinking at the time that he only committed to basel so he had an excuse not to play valencia (well that and the $$$) which is almost certainly untrue but is also very funny.
meanwhile juanki sooort of backpedaled like i mean we don't understand his decision but we respect it… sure, juanki.
late-career detente (?)
juanki has since repeatedly gone on the record noting 1. the only player he ever felt inferior to was roger federer 2. who btw is the best player of all time. these are not neutral statements coming from a spaniard and no one is taking them that way.
now having said that, he has also had plenty of nice or at least diplomatic things to say in recent years about rafa's will to compete, etc. "i wouldn't like him to get [to roland garros] and not win matches." while also dropping gems such as:
q: which of the big three was the hardest to play and why? juanki: federer. but i'm just glad i managed to beat all three of them before i retired. :)
with all of this in mind, the aforementioned video of carlos and team watching rafa's message. is. so. funny. JUAN CARLOS GROW UPPPP. like presumably the academy at least will say something once the big moment rolls around but when literally every other spanish tennis player under the sun is posting their glowing tributes and you are Haughtily Silent it's so obvious!! son!!!
additionally: this makes juanki spending the olympics at home so fucking funny. yeah, i bet you DIDN'T want to watch your special friend and your beloved protege coo over rafael nadal for two weeks. like in the year 2024 there's no way it's that serious, nothing more than "my annoying ex-coworker i still have to be polite to." just, they're not friends. and ferru and rafa (and now carlos) are. and it's very funny to me personally.
in conclusion: "rafa largely to blame for ferrero's downfall" (espn, 2012)
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in1-nutshell · 15 days ago
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The Recording (TF1 Silver Aid)
Part 2 of TF1 Silver Aid
SFW, Platonic, Slight Familial, Hinted Romance, Angst, Cybertronian reader
TF1
Optimus was sitting at his new desk in Iacon, formerly Sentinel Prime’s, now his. As much as he hated the former ‘Prime’, he certainly knew how to pick out a good desk. His knee bounced in rapid motions as he read through the latest data pad set given. The pile just seemed to be growing by the hour and he wasn’t even sure if he finished the first original pile from the morning. Elita had stopped earlier to have a bit of energon with him while keeping him up to date of the mining situation. Now that energon was flowing once again throughout the planet, mining for the now abundant resource was getting put away for good.
The Commander did mention hitting a bit of a snag while trying to uncover the other sublevels. Both knew about sublevel 50’s existence, but they hadn’t seen the other levels yet. Another thing to put on the to do list on top of the other hundred of things Optimus needed to review. Luckily Elita was on that case, he could trust her to get some work done there. There was still a lot to do concerning rebuilding Iacon and getting order done in the mines and caste system. It was boring work, but necessary. It was now getting closer to the evening time and Optimus could practically hear his berth calling out to him. Soon his optics began to glaze over the glyphs as his mind wondered to That day.
When D-16—No… when Megatron had been banished.
When He banished him.
And Silver Aid… oh Silver… If only he had acted faster instead of gawking like everyone else, maybe she would still be here.
Her alt mode…  was… peculiar to put it in nicer words.
Not a traditional alt mode by any means, but that was no reason for the other bots to start calling her a monster. Sure, it was a bit creepy, but it wasn’t that bad. In a strange way the alt mode reminded him of Arachnid’s legs, long and deadly looking. One of B-127’s theories on her alt mode came from which Prime’s cog she had gotten. It was that or she ‘always had a beast inside her’. Quite frankly, the new Prime was putting his shanix on the first idea.
Optimus remembered Elita running through the crowd (tossing some resisting bots aside) trying to reach her twin. Jazz was one of those unlucky bots that had the misfortune of standing in her way. The poor mech had landed on his newly welded pede the wrong way and needed to go back to the medbay. At least Elita did apologise… this time.
Optimus remembered B-127 trying to calm everyone down, saying that that was his friend and not a monster. No one paid any attention to the yellow bot… at least until he took out his ‘knife hands’, the attention was on the bot.
Optimus remembered the look of terror on Silver Aid’s face as she ran.
Now Optimus’s Amica had been missing for a couple months and there was no sign or trail of where she could have gone. Well… there was one theory… but he refused to believe in it.
The Prime pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed tiredly.
Suddenly the office doors flew open. Optimus startled, clicked in his battle mask and was ready to fight.
“Woah there OP! It’s just us.”
Hearing Jazz’s voice made the Prime relax and unclick his mask. It was just B-127, Jazz, and Prowl at the doorway.
“Sorry about that guys.”
Bumblebee chimed in “No problem! We actually came up here ‘cause we found something! Well, more like Elita found something. She looked kinda sick too, maybe too much dust in the vents. But this thing kinda looks like the thing you found on Steve’s head when you killed him—”
Prowl’s doorwings stiffen at the last sentence. “Killed who?”
Jazz patted his shoulder, already remembering the story Optimus had to tell after Bee let that bombshell out while working with some of the heavier carts. Mental note to put better handles on the carts. “I’ll explain later Prowler.”
“Anyways maybe its another recording of the Prime’s or something!” B passed the bigger mech the small metal disc.
The recording chip didn’t look as old as the one Alpha Trion had sent out, but then again, it could have been hidden somewhere safe and kept in great condition.
Optimus nodded. “Play it.”
Megatron was sitting on his newly built throne processor deep in thought. His new group, the Decepticon’s, were becoming official. The last of the branding ceremonies had just finished and it was time to look at the future. A future without any Prime’s to look up to.
It had been a couple months since Prime had banished him and the High Guard from Iacon.
A couple of months since he had terminated Sentinel Prime.
A couple months since he had seen Silver Aid…
If there were some bots he had hoped he could count on to be at his time of need it was Orion Pax and Silver Aid. Both had left him.
…Maybe left wasn’t the right word for this scenario.
Orion was dead.
Offline.
Terminated.
Replaced by Optimus Prime.
Silver Aid was… somewhere, probably with Prime.
 Megatron didn’t register her transformation while making his speech on Iacon. According to Soundwave, she had transformed in some sort of beast never seen before. Some of the others had mentioned hearing around that the ‘creepy bot’ had ran away around the same time they had left Iacon.
Did this leave him a bit worried when he first heard the news?
Yes, but surely her Amica and twin had found her and were taking care of each other... leaving him alone to his own devices.
The sounds of pede steps alerted Megatron from his thoughts.
It was Starscream, Soundwave and Shockwave. The ‘Big 3’ as some of the other High Guard members had come to know them as.
“Megatron, our scanners had detected a strange frequency on the planets surface. We went to investigate only to find this.” Shockwave held a small recording chip in his digits. It reminded him of the small recording chip that Orion had found after ‘decapitating’ B-127’s ‘friend’ Steve.
“Is the recording still in there?”
Soundwave nodded. “Affirmative.”
“Then play it.”
Optimus’s optics widen seeing Silver Aid’s face appear in the hologram. While the graphics weren’t the best, there was glitches, and the low hum of static was played, there was without a shadow of a doubt that the bot in the recording was his Amica.
The bots with him were just as surprised.
“What in Primus’s name?”
“Isn’t that Silver?”
“What’s on her helm?”
The last comment by B caught the other’s attention as they looked a bit closer at the helm. It had some sort of marking on it, vaguely familiar but no one could pinpoint it. The helm glitched a couple times before the bots realized what it was.
It was a branded marker.
The hologram glitched again for a minute.
“I-is this—this—working? Pr--Pri--primus please work… Already… make… two recordings… Got it!”
The static lessened a bit.
“This is a recording to any Autobot or Decepticon who gets this—this message. Get th—this to Optimus or Meg—Megatron. We are… —we need—”
A shadow had appeared over Silver’s frame making her stop talking.
Terror was in her optics.
“Oh, Primus no…”
…”
“Oh, Primus no…”
Whatever Silver Aid was looking at seemed to be coming closer.
So, she ran.
Megatron and the other High Guard members around him stared intently at hologram Silver Aid sprinting and jostling the recording around. It made some of the bots a bit sick to watch. The look in her optics was something Megatron could have lived without knowing.
Pure, unadulterated, Fear.
“The—are back! They are trying—don’t know—Primus!”
A spear narrowly missed Silver’s helm.
After a bit more running, it looked like Silver Aid had finally found a place to hide. Looking over her shoulder before going back recording with a strange expression.
“Both recordings will have half of the coordinates to the ship. Don’t ev—even think abo—about going alone. We all—we all mu—must work together, it’s the only way—”
The sound of an explosion rang out knocking both Silver and the recording a bit back.
Megatron’s optics strained to see what was going on in the recording, almost calling out for her. He stopped himself before the sound came out of his mouth.
Silver Aid was now sprawled on the floor, groaning and trying to get up. She looked at the recording and gave a watery smile.
“They—they’re here… I’m sorry everyone…sorry I can’t-- It’ll all are one.”
Suddenly a tentacle shot out from behind her and wrapped itself around Silver Aid’s neckcables, yanking her back. Silver Aid yelped as she struggled fruitlessly to get the tenacle from her neck. The recording ended with Silver Aid screaming and clawing the floor as she was dragged into the darkness behind her. A bunch of small glyphs appeared at the bottom of the paused recording.
Megatron hadn’t noticed that he had gripped the armrest on his throne so tight it had twisted itself and broken clean off.
Everyone looked various degrees of frighten and concerned.
Starscream was the first to speak up. “Megatron, what do we do?”
Megatron optics were still trained on the recording.
“Leave me. I will address the situation in due time.”
They all nodded and hesitantly left the throne room.
His optics still did not leave the recording’s image. He vented deeply as he placed both his servos in his face. Too many questions and thoughts were racing in his processor at the moment.
And Silver Aid was to blame.
The bots stared at the end of the recording as the tiny glyphs appeared on it.
B-127 was the first to break the silence. “Is she…”
Optimus didn’t want to think on that possibility.
Prowl looked uneasy. “That explains Elita One’s behavior.”
The Prime paused before looking at the mech. “What? Elita?”
Jazz nodded. “She was the one who found it. B said she looked sick to her tanks when she found it.”
Oh Primus Elita…
If she had seen this before hand…
B-127 looked over at his friend with concern.
Optimus stood up.
“I need to be alone for a minute.”
The bots looked at each other before leaving the room.
“Not you B… I need you here.”
B-127 immediately turned around and shut the doors. His infamous motor mouth had activated.
“What are we gonna do? Silver’s somewhere and we don’t know where. Not to mention what has her! Prowl’s probably getting the coordinates with Jazz or maybe Jazz went to go get Elita—”
“B… do you know where Elita is now?”
The yellow bot paused before shaking his helm.
“No idea. I can try calling her if you want.”
“Please.”
B-127 nodded and started the calls.
The entire time the recording had been going on, Optimus had been trying to reach Silver Aid through the Amica bond. He hadn’t felt anything the entire time. Sitting in his seat, he could only stare at the tiny glyphs, taunting him in a way.
Thankfully B managed to get a message out to Elita to get to Optimus as soon as possible. The smaller bot sat in one of the chairs in the room, looking over at his friend anxiously.
“What are we going to do now?”
Optimus sighed.
“I’m going after her.”
“Then I’m coming with you!”
Optimus shook his helm.
“B, its too—”
The yellow bot interrupted him firmly. “Silver’s my friend too. I want my friend back safe and sound. Where you go, I go. Plus, I’m pretty sure that Elita is gonna say the same thing.”
The Prime chuckled a bit thinking about his Commander.
“Yeah… she would say that.”
There was a pause.
“What’s gonna be the first step?”
Optimus hated this part.
“…First we’re going to need to pay Megatron a little visit…”
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