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saintobio · 2 years ago

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hii saint! i've been following the utahime & sy drama for a while and was very concerned with your mental health regarding it. i honestly could sense your exhaustion from your posts, and sort of had expected this to happen. sometimes it breaks my heart knowing how much people are giving you unnecessary hate and how much you are struggling to be okay in this situation. nevertheless, thank you so much for everything you have done for the sn/sy series. honestly, i wasn't really invested in the jjk fandom, even gojo at all (watched the series but not rly in the fandom iykwim) but i stumbled upon a chapter in sn and fell in love with the whole storyline. i adore love stories, but the ones like yours, full of angst and in-depth fleshed characters who are flawed... i think is the best type of love story of all.

below is just my rant days ago but unfortunately your asks were closed at that time. since sy is discontinued, this will be my last ask dedicated to sy and a way to comfort you that that there are still people out there who understood your intentions of writing utahime into the storyline

at first, i thought i was the only one who felt this way, or noticed it, but it's truly scary and concerning how people over-villainize utahime repeatedly despite your explanation of her character.

yeah i get it, getting together with your best friend's ex husband is a betrayal of said best friend's trust, especially when you clearly know how intertwined, complicated and toxic their past was. BUT to over-analyse her character and say that she's manipulating gojo/taking advantage of him...? so odd??? like why are people misinterpreting her character like this.

misinterpreting her character is one thing, but to continuously reject your consistent explanation of her character...? you? the author of this story? i don't even know what to say, they are literally being so disrespectful.

i mean for gojo, he feels that utahime has always been there for him during his lows and did not judge him for his past mistakes, a clear indication that she's the love interest for him right now in his life as someone who just wants to start afresh. for utahime, yes she was attracted to him from the start, but she got close with gojo because she wants to genuinely help him out of the mess he was in. literally 0 ulterior motives, just two lost and lonely people who just wants to be loved. that's literally it. full stop, end of story. will i ever know if they decided to continue the r/s officially and long term? i don't know. will gojoyn be endgame? i don't know too. but it's best for me to reserve my judgements and just read it as the way it is being written by you. sure, the way they got together is so so wrong but that's the drama and angst isnt it.... this fic was literally tagged "heavy angst" so im having trouble understanding as to why people who clearly could not stomach the current angst, would want to continue reading the story and harassing you for something they are not in control over to begin with.

is utahime stupid for getting involved with her best friend's ex husband immediately after that whole fiasco when the wounds are still fresh, and not telling her best friend about it?hell yes. but people are truly hating her excessively like damn insulting her health condition? asking her to die? geez like what...

it's obvious that people have been selective reading and have zero critical/analytical thinking. it's either they are not mature enough to read such a complex story, or simply just ignorant against your wishes of how you wanted the story to be and selfishly wants everything to go their own way. i recently read somewhere that people always swoon over the 2nd male lead, but will hate on the 2nd female lead. i think that's very true.

i don't even know how to get my point across that the situation is so complex, readers should not just be jumping to conclusions and pointing fingers like this.

im not a utahime/gojo/gojohime stan outside and in this story fyi. i don't feel anything for utahime, or gojo. have to put it out here because i realised that everytime someone talks about or defends utahime/gojohime, people will just automatically assume that theyre biased to gojohime?? damn sorry for not being close-minded and hateful like the some of them i guess

these months, it was so draining to come here and see unnecessary hate in the comments section and asks. like not only it's draining you on this space, it's also ruining the safe & fun interactive experience other readers want on the blog. these people didn't just violated your safe space (because your main/sims blogs were full of anon hate despite your clear instructions to not leave sn/sy asks there, and your plead for everyone to cease with the utahime hate on this blog and yet somehow, it continued) they also ruined reading experience because for other innocent readers who just wanted to follow the story.

BTW i can bet every dollar in my bank account that if the series has all its chapters released now, the hate on utahime would almost be non-existent, or maybe, there would be, but not this extent. why? because people wouldn't be jumping to conclusions like this and spewing hate like it's their job on this site. because they already know how the story progressed and what the outcome is. any judgements/criticisms should be end until the story ends. has anyone been to a theatre, or a movie, and then start judging at the first quarter/half of the movie???????????? so aside from being immature, people are being impatient too. got it.

last point, ITS FICTION. why are people so riled up over a fictional character. please divert this energy somewhere else. they should focus on reflecting and reevaluating their mindset. the fact that this fiasco is happening for 2/3rd time..... gawd like why are you letting a fictional character/incident, that was posted two months ago, live in your head rent free like this???

talking about fiction, why are utahime stans from jjk even attacking you for...? again, it's fiction. "she's portrayed as a bad characters in all fanfics" then maybe stop actively looking for those kind of fanfics? i rarely saw utahime hate on twitter (i follow a lot of jjk accs btw) or anyone villainising her character in fanfics. so clearly, the problem lies with them, because clearly they are just intentionally looking for drama and being over sensitive about it (because she's FICTIONAL). touch some grass please, it's not that serious

in summary: yes, utahime is wrong for jumping into a relationship with her best friend's ex-husband and not come clean with her immediately. but gojohime not happening is not HER FAULT 100%. people just wanna overvillainize her just to put their frustrations that gojoyn isn't happening on someone 🤷🏽‍♀️ im glad you discontinued the series because the excessive utahime hate in the comments section and negativity on this blog.... a lot of us honestly didnt want to see that shit everyday. please don't ever apologise to us about anything over this matter. it's you who deserves a huge apology.

the fact that i have not seen any one of these haters realising their mistreatment towards you and apologising for it.... really shows that they are not aware of their mistakes and would do it over and over again if sy continues

nobody wants to work >=12hours a day and then coming to the app to see repeated discourse. it's getting old and rude, you're tired on and off the app. i understand. anyways, will be looking forward to see more of your other amazing works in the future and i hope these people would be long gone from this blog by then for your peace of mind. get some rest 🫶🏽

helloooo, so sorry for the late response. i believe i had read this when u first sent it and only had the time to go back and reread it now. tysm for ur support and for understanding where i’m coming from. i really appreciate you and i wish there’s a way i can extend my gratitude towards you 🥺 anyways, i hope you’re doing well <33

#🖤: letters to saint #series: sincerely yours #tw.discourse

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paranoid-throwaway · 3 years ago

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kind of want to elucidate how i feel about the whole thing. i doubt anyone will ever care about this perspective on this extremely niche topic, but itll still be nice to have my thoughts written out somewhere. also just general journaling and writing practice, i really need to get better at conveying

its kind of crazy how sometimes i feel imposter syndrome regarding autism. i’m definitely high functioning, but the way this site is you’d think its the only type of autism to exist. I really am interested in the differences between how cis males experience having autism and the way ftm males experience autism. already, the preponderance of ‘autistic’ ftms is kind of odd. I do believe autism affects women, in fact one of the few brief episodes of autism solidarity in my life was my friendship with one at a educational program. Yeah, actually, in this post i really want to contrast what ive experienced as an autistic person and my interactions with other autistic people, vs tumblr autism. Its said that autism can affect gender identity, and it probably is true that autistic traits across both sexes are construed as masculine. I’ve really met two kinds of autistic people in my life. Theres autistic people who are still really un-selfware, lower functioning, and then theres people like me, who can function somewhat better and have managed to mostly supress sensory problems. It really is so hard to do, and the autistics ive met irl agree. In fact, for the most part we actually carry a lot of guilt over being autistic, self hatred for everything being so difficult when its not a problem for normal people at all. I still don’t really know how to feel about that. On the one hand, I do resonate with the concept that disabilites are a result of society, but i dont think thats an absolute principle. The ability to do unpleasant things, to take care of and clean oneself, to properly read social cues and norms will always be important for interacting with other people regardless of social structure or situation. Autistic people will probably always struggle with these things. Im certainly in the autism sucks camp, if i could get it cured or whatever i’d do it in a heartbeat. I do think being autistic has been important to forming my identity, but i am so fucking tired of being alone and friendless. Still, the guilt and self hatred i feel about my autism isn;t even the worse i’ve seen. The autistic girl I used to be friends with was also a devout christian, which we often argued about. Why on earth would god make autistic people? I’ll always remember being shocked when she told me the story of how in college she’d been raped, but even now she blames herself and being autistic. If she’d been more self aware, more alert to the guys ulterior motives, she feels like it wouldn’t have happened. I don’t agree, regardless of the society and situation rape shouldn’t happen and is never the victims fault. But it illustrates how negatively actuallyautistic(which is a stupid fucking tag) people feel about autism.

I do wonder what people in the other camp think autism speaks should actually do. I suppose just give free money to autistic people. That actually wouldn’t be half bad, but it should all go to people at assisted living programs or psych facilities. Its true that autism makes some of the demands of most jobs more difficult and thinks like attractiveness, personal grooming and social skills should absolutley not effect employment the way they do, but how the fuck do you legislate for that.

Another odd thing to me is the level of community that female autistics and ftm autistics seem to have. Autistic cis males are infamous for being friendless losers, and I am no exception. the closest thing to an autistic community is places like 4chan, which makes sense, as theres no social norms and no real connections to be made. I suposse its certainly possible that there are autistics who are incredibly good at masking, and have managed to ingrain certain habits in themselves

another intersting contrast, though certainly a difficult one to discuss, is sexual inadequacy and so on. Everyone knows autistic guys dont really get pussy. I do wonder what is like for cis gay autistics. I do believe that gay people are generally more accepting and interested in more kinds of people and bodies than straights. Not really sure how much sexual dysfunction there is amongst ‘autistic’ ftms or women. virtually all of the ‘autistic’ ftms are gay, and typically date amongst themselves, which no doubt makes things easier. theres also a preponderance of asexual autistic ftms or enbies, many of whom are ‘high-functioning’ which is odd given that while asexuality has been connected to autism before, it’s mostly in severely autistic individuals who don’t care about social stuff at all. A lot of these asexual ‘autistic’ ftms seem just as obsessed with shipping dynamics as the allo ‘autistic’ ftms.

I wonder if theres something of a generational divide between zoomer autistics and older ones. older cis male autistics are way likelier to be bitter, extremist friendless losers, zoomer cis male autistics are much more likely to transition, which provides another, far stronger community.

At the end of the day, this all revolves around the fact that people who are ‘proud’ of their autism are innately suspicious to me. I realize there are people who reclaim their identity and move past the stigma, but surely there must be some lingering bitterness over how one was treated and how unfair it is. If your not bitter about it, it makes me wonder just how much ur ‘autism’ actually made you suffer, and If it didn’t or not very much at all, I just can’t see you as autistic. You don’t understand the pain that comes from actually struggling with it.

I also just really, really hate all of those jokes about how autism is sexy or cool. I realize some people say that sort of thing as a way to fight the stigma but it feels like it’s at the expense of actually recognizing the painful aspects of autism. Online friendships and communications are just as difficult and confusing as in person interactions are to me, yet a lot of autistics on tumblr seem to find an online community and integrate into it pretty effortlessly.

#I wonder if anyone will see this #I actually would welcome the other sides thoughts on this #autistic ftms: why are you often so much more comfortable and open about being autistic than cis male autistics?#i know you dont like to think about that question #regardless #my bitterness is justified and theres nothing you can do to convince me otherwise #autism

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polyamorouspunk · 3 years ago

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Language anon again

Sheesh the tags in the second part, you didn't mention that the person you knew was your toxic(?) Ex. All you put in the tags of the first post was "I've been meaning to text them anyway" and "guess who it is" and ngl I do pay attention to your blog but I don't pay attention to your relationship stuff bc I'm just not interested in someone's love life when I gotta deal with my own yk? Anytime I see the word catboy/crush/relationship I just scroll bc I don't like reading about that kinda stuff- reminds me of shit I've been through with assholes

Not all of your followers are up to date about who you're crushing on or at odds with. So don't say I don't care about you putting your mental health at risk when I didn't even know I was to begin with.

Besides, you don't have to do shit for unknown people if it makes you uncomfortable/unhappy. The little I know about catboy makes me think he's a dick and you shouldn't waste your time with him, but I don't know the full story and I don't really care to. That's just my opinion.

Just do whatever makes you happy man. I can't change my friends choice about what they call themself and Im not going to force you to text someone that makes you depressed because I'm curious Abt their thoughts.

I subscribe by the "never text your Ex" idea, but you do you Boo. If you want an excuse to get your heart broken again then go for it. I'll be the bad guy here 😂

But my advice is don't text him. If he's been ghosting you then fuck him. He's a loser that wants you to chase him bc he gets off on it. I'd had to deal with dickwads like that too.

Instead of texting him I'd drop his ass and do shit that would make him regret ghosting me. You should make yourself look hotter and sexier than before. Even if you're a solid 9.99 go for that 10. Then go out more- go out anywhere and have fun, even if it hurts, even if you're not actually having fun. Just show you're NOT crying over him like he wants you to be. Eventually he'll see he fucked up. And the best part is? When he crawls back you need ghost him and make him understand how you felt. Fuck him. When you focus on yourself you'll attract someone who wants to be with you for you, not because you feed their shitty ego by crawling back to them

jskdhskhs thank you I guess and my dude it was 100% like a joke I’m sorry I made you feel guilty in any way. I do try and put it in the tags so people don’t get 10,000 posts on their dash about me complaining about shit. And I do try and keep it to this blog only and not my other blogs/social media where I focus on being positive and upbeat.

It’s not that he ghosted me so much as I know that having a newborn at home is taxing while you have other things going on and it’s not even your home etc.

Nah dude it was 100% a light-hearted joke, I totally understand not caring about people who you follow’s love life/intrapersonal relationships they talk about/I can 100% see how that stuff could absolutely be triggering or at least uncomfortable to people who have been in similar situations (or even if they haven’t been) which is why I try and constituently tag all the posts I make about all of it.

And I mean tbh I text my ex every day because he’s like? My best friend? I don’t consider catboy an ex really (idk like when I say “my ex” I mean Emory but catboy kind of counts but not really), but I subscribe to the idea of “if someone I know is in a place to answer something better than me I’m always more than happy to reach out and ask them for advice” which is why a lot of times I ask for advice on here or like I’ll ask my friends about things etc.

Yeah there are arguments on both sides of like “he’s shitty”/“he’s going through a lot”. And I mean the best relationship I ever had which was healthy and lasted a good 6 years started off horrible and toxic on both our parts so like I do know from experience that like shitty people can turn around and become healthy partners. That’s not always the case however.

Sorry to bring it up, I did put it in the tags because it wasn’t relevant to your ask but something I needed to vent about in a joking way anyway.

I think that asking people for their opinion on something they might be interested in/suited to is a great way to reach out to someone when you haven’t talked in a while because it gives them something to talk about besides just “hi how are you”. My best friend and I almost never text but I’ll text her up every once in a while to ask about my animals or something, which I think works well for her because she’s not into the whole casual conversation thing and would much rather talk about reptiles and such. (Once again has nothing to do with this ask but just figured I would throw out that piece of advice).

Life’s complicated. I defiantly go back and forth on it and I sure do bother the fuck out of everyone I talk to and probably a lot of people who follow me which I do feel bad about but I try and compound it with just reblogging general good crush posts/mlm content that would fit a polyamory blog run by a mlm anyway so that even if people don’t want to deal with the bs maybe they can see a post and relate like “ah I’m polyam and I want that with my partners” or “at least one of my partners” because most are centered at 1 person.

But uh yeah just because a word isn’t English doesn’t mean it’s not gendered and if you don’t like any existing words just make one up.

#punk gets mail #crush stuff #negative #I’m a bit worried my reply comes off as guilt-trippy so if it does I’m genuinely sorry but like I did mean it when I said I was sorry #a cookie for you anon ? 🍪🥛

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a-singleboat · 4 years ago

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Virtual Reality

Word Count: 2.4k

Request: hi! if your taking requests, i was wondering if you could write a damien x reader, where they meet through Twitch? add anything else you want i always love everything you write, thanks so much!! - anon

Warning(s): like, one swear

It was a Thursday night when you first met him, or rather, heard of him. You had been streaming for five hours heading into your sixth when you decided it might be time for you to log off for the night. As per usual, you took at least thirty minutes at the end of your stream just to talk with your viewers, usually about how their lives were going in exchange for a story from your own day.

Tonight, however, there was an influx of people asking if you’d ever heard of a streamer by the name of Damien Haas, which you hadn’t, and if you would do a collaboration with the man anytime soon. Apparently, your content was eerily similar and you were, and I quote, “Practically the female version of him, looks aside.”

“Damien Haas…” you rolled yourself back closer to your desk, hands settled on your keyboard. You typed his name into the search bar, patiently waiting for Twitch to pull up his account. You clicked into the first one, making an impressed face at the purple checkmark next to his name. You squinted at the screen. “Is this him? In the profile picture with the LEDs in the background?”

You glanced at your chat, chuckling as the viewers started spamming ‘yes’ and ‘oh my god it’s happening,’ and your personal favorite, ‘mom come pick me up the best crossover of 2020 is happening and im SCARED.’

“He plays a lot of Animal Crossing,” you observed, clicking on one of his videos and dragging the tab onto your main monitor so the stream could see it. You skipped through the beginning part, biting into a pretzel as you watched.

“He’s kinda cute,” you commented, laughing as your stream freaked out once more. There were a few people commenting what looked like it could be a ship name though you ignored it. “Shame I’d never meet him, though.”

You paused his video, taking note of the time, before rolling out your shoulders. “I think it’s time for me to head out so I’m gonna end this stream with a huge thank you to you all for sticking with me through this entire stream and if you didn’t stay the entire time, I’m glad you decided to join in on the ride even halfway through. I’ll see you guys next time.”

You ended the stream, waving goodbye to your viewers before the light went out and you could relax the smile off your face. Don’t get it twisted, you loved streaming and you loved your viewers but just like any other job, it could get exhausting at times. You shut down your monitors, the screens turning blue before fading to black. You stretched, taking your phone up from its charger and launching yourself into bed, opening your phone and clicking on Twitter.

Much like staying thirty minutes after you were done streaming to talk to viewers, you usually went on Twitter right after to answer questions and respond to DMs. This time, however, instead of opening the app to see a bunch of post-stream questions, your mentions were filled with the video clip of you saying, “He’s kinda cute,” as well as maybe a million people tagging both you and Damien in them.

Well, shit.

Soon enough, that was all that filled your timeline. You couldn’t move in one direction without running into another screencap of you admiring the man. God, you knew the consequences but something in the back of your mind was urging you to reach out to him.

After a few moments of contemplation, the lonely side of you won out, forcing you to message him against your better judgment. Without even thinking about it, you found his Twitter and sent this message:

Hey, I’m sorry about your mentions blowing up because of me tonight. My viewers recommended your Twitch to me and I spoke without thinking about it on Live.

And with no expectation of his response, you fell asleep right there with your phone on your chest and the DM still open.

You woke up the next morning with a sore neck and a dead phone, which was a terrible way to start your day. You rolled over, plugging your device into an outlet before crawling out of bed to start your day. When you weren’t streaming, you worked as a freelance editor for different YouTubers, helping their editors with their workload or even staying on as a Temp for different companies. Occasionally you edited the odd commercial here and there, but those gigs were rare.

Most recently, you had received some material from a group of YouTubers, Smosh. This job was different, however, because if you did well on this you could be looking at a permanent place of employment through their parent company, Mythical Entertainment.

You knew Mythical Entertainment, it was hard not to, especially since your aunt was one of the producers within the company, but tended to ignore everything the company did. The last you’d heard, they’d onboarded another YouTube group (which you did later find out to be Smosh, the same YouTubers whose video you were hired to edit).

After a quick shower and a half-assed attempt at a proper breakfast, you were ready to start your day. You situated yourself behind your monitors, opening the video clips that had been sent to you. The first was a sample video, something that gave you insight on what their editing style was actually like.

But imagine your surprise when you’re staring down the same man you have called cute the night before, his approximately five-eleven stance taking up one-sixth of the space. He was standing next to a blond, who had been marked as “Shayne Topp.”

Despite there being five other people in frame, your eyes kept moving back to Damien’s figure, watching his mannerisms through the screen and laughing along to his jokes when they fell upon deaf ears.

Your eyes slid over to your phone, now decently charged after sitting for so long. On your screen were dozens of notifications. There were maybe two from your mom, asking if you’d be coming home for dinner sometime that week but the majority came from Twitter. You picked up the device, unlocking and responding to your mom with a, “yes,” before opening Twitter.

Nothing much had changed from the night prior. Your mentions were still being flooded with the video from last night but newer content had been ushered in, namely fan edits using footage from your streams and, you assumed, his.

The only major difference, however, was the fact that Damien had responded to your DM from the night prior. The first message read:

It’s really no problem! My stream had mentioned your name before, too.

Followed by the second:

P.S. I think you’re cute, too.

You couldn’t believe your eyes. Mr. Damien Haas, the man that you had made a thoughtless comment on stream about, also thought that you were cute. Suddenly, the fact that you had been staring at him for the past hour seemed less stalkerish and more like a blooming crush. You wrote back:

Aw, thanks! Have you seen the newer fan edits? They’re all so talented.

You cringed at yourself. A cute boy started talking to you and you’ve suddenly forgotten how to be suave, not that you really were in the first place. But still, you liked to think you had some tact when talking to people that you found attractive.

Not even a moment later, there came a response.

Yes, I have, he responded. And I agree! They are all very talented individuals.

You looked from the monitor in front of you. You had about a quarter of the footage left to go through before you could start editing but this technically wasn’t due until the following night. Feeling emboldened by the fact that he had actually responded, you replied:

Are you going to TwitchCon on Friday? We should meet up or something.

Anxiously you awaited his response, taking his silence as an opportunity to watch a bit more of the footage and take down notes according to the sample they’d given you. Roughly thirty minutes later is when the next response came in, reading as an affirmative to both questions.

You didn’t respond, choosing to leave your social media for after you’d finished editing the video. Your heart still pounded, however. Just the thought that there was a possibility for the two of you to meet was, simply put, insane. You’d just heard of the guy the night before and decided that he was going to be your latest hyperfixation.

But who could blame you? He was a nice, funny guy that showed the slightest bit of attraction towards you. It didn’t help that you were a sucker for guys that were nice to you.

Fast forward to the Friday of TwitchCon, also known as the first day of TwitchCon. You and Damien had been talking steadily over Twitter DMs and just last night you had gained his phone number, giving you even more access to the man than you had before. But of course, who were you if you didn’t tease your fans with the prospect of you meeting.

The night before, at the end of your stream, you’d given your fans the little tidbit of information that you and Damien were, in fact, planning on meeting up sometime during TwitchCon and would be greeting fans together for an hour at your booth.

That sent Twitter into a frenzy, both of your combined fans getting your ship name to trend within the hour, which confused the hell out of a bunch of locals.

It was nearing the time you and Damien had set to meet up. The plan was you’d meet around twelve for lunch, take an hour for yourselves, before going back to your booth and meeting with fans for an hour or so as promised.

You had never been more nervous than you were in that moment. Not only were you about to meet your three-day-old crush but apparently a very popular YouTuber. You tried not to let the thought mess with your head. One of your friends, Wilbur Soot (who you played Minecraft with from time to time) was poking fun at you for being nervous about meeting a popular YouTuber.

After three years of streaming and gaining a solid following, you’d think you’d be used to meeting other popular content creators. But because it was him, you found yourself unable to think straight.

“What if I fuck up?” you asked Wilbur anxiously. He’d flown in from London for this event at your insistence and because you’d offered to pay half his airfare to get there and back. He didn’t have his own booth as his arrival was very last minute, but he didn’t mind. He signed the occasional poster though his main purpose was to provide you mental and emotional support.

“You won’t fuck up,” he comforted, leafing through one of the comics a fan had given you. The entire thing was hand-drawn, which was an insane fact in itself. It looked professional, which was what blew you away when you’d received it. “Well, you won’t fuck up as badly as you did when you first met Schlatt.”

You groaned in embarrassment. “Don’t remind me.”

Long story short, you’d dumped a red in color slushy on the man accidentally after tripping over an unmarked cable. It really wasn’t your fault but the boys hadn’t let you live it down since then.

Half a moment later, Wilbur was poking your side. “Is that him?” he asked, jabbing his pointer finger into your side while looking in the opposite direction. He was looking at a familiar figure walking down the hallway toward your booth. He stopped for a moment to take a photo with a fan, talking to them about something, before continuing on his way toward you.

Your eyes locked and you gave him a smile while trying to beat Wilbur into no longer poking you. He stopped when you slapped his arm the first time, sticking his tongue at you before going on his phone. You rolled your eyes at his half-assed attempt of pretending he wasn’t about to start listening in on your conversation.

“Hey, Y/n, right?” Damien asked as he approached. You nodded, reaching out for a handshake but becoming pleasantly surprised when he instead pulled you in for a hug.

“You ready for lunch?” you asked glaring slightly at Wilbur as he made kissy faces over Damien’s shoulder. Luckily, Damien hadn’t noticed your moron of a best friend.

“Yeah, I saw this sushi place on the way in if you wanted to try that?”

“I’d be down,” you agreed, reaching behind your table to grab your bag. Wilbur was set to meet with a few other Minecraft streamers, meaning you didn’t have to worry about him while you had lunch. You looked over your shoulder, making sure everything was set for you to leave before saying goodbye to Wilbur.

Over the course of lunch, you and Damien had gotten to know each other pretty well. Once the conversation moved away from your fans and, well, work, and more into personal details, you found that you actually weren’t all that similar. For starters, Damien loved watching anime while your guilty pleasure was Gilmore Girls. The one show you both had a love for, however, was Avatar the Last Airbender, which made sense.

Another thing was that he actually enjoyed being in front of the camera while you tolerated it on most days, really only putting on your face cam for the last thirty minutes on most days. Despite that, he still classified himself as an introvert.

You returned back to your booth much later than you anticipated, thoroughly shocked at the line that had formed with Wilbur at the front of it, entertaining the fans that had shown up early to meet both you and Damien.

“Y/n!” one fan called, pointing in your direction. Immediately, the entire line turned and gaped at the sight of you and Damien walking together. You greeted them happily, stopping for pictures and verbally promising that you’d stay until you got to meet everyone personally.

“You really love your fans,” Damien observed as you put your things back down behind the table. Wilbur had set up shop on your right side, chatting with a few people at the front of the line.

“I wouldn’t be anywhere without them,” you admitted, pulling a silver sharpie from your bag. You handed a gold one to Damien. “I also wouldn’t have gotten to meet you without them, which I’m still sorry about, by the way. Your feed must have been chaotic.”

“You have no idea,” he chuckled. “But everything happens for a reason.”

You nodded, grinning up at him. “Yes, they do.”

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casnextdoor · 3 years ago

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30 questions Game!

i was tagged by the lovely @oasiswithmyg 💕

1. Name/Nickname; my Name is Casaandra but please please i am begging you .,, call me cas .

2. Star Sign; I am a pisces .

3. Height; 5’4

4. Birthday; February

5. favorite band; i got quite a few.,, BTS GOT7, Stray Kidz, Chase Atlantic, at one point i was a HUGE seventeen and blackpink stan .,, not so much anymore.,, odd future if you consider them a band .,, and Ateez

6. favorite solo artist; lemme preface by saying,,, separate the art from the artist . that being said ,,, im really into brent faiyaz, H.E.R, tyler, the creator, frank ocean, sza, partynextdoor.., summer walker.,, daniel ceasar.,, kali uchis.,, joey Bada$$ , joji.,, clairo, miguel… i feel like you can see where this is going . very versatile when it comes to todays music .

7. time; 2:56 pm

8. Song stuck in my head; Friends by Chase Atlantic for some reason and The Need To Know by SZA

9. Last movie i watched; the bee movie .,, idk why either but i put it on to fall asleep and then i got kinda intrigued because when i first seen it .,, i hated it … but it was kinda … inch resting

10. free space; Im allergic to peanut butter and shell fish .,, but i love them . so i always keep an epipen and Benadryl on me .

11. Last show i watched; Manifest ., and i rewatched naruto and my hero

12. When was this blog created; Okay so this one .,, i created last … august i think . but i had one before this and .,, yeah .

13. what i post; bullshit .

14. last think i googled; pinkpantheress. they are an interesting artist and i like their music.

15. other blog .,, i got one but its more of a personal situation .,, if u find it .,, thats cool too

16. do i get asks; not a lot but yes .,, mostly becuz my wife really likes to give me writing prompts to get my mind working .,,

17. why did i choose my url; originally it was brattybae00; and that’s because when i was younger and i did have a semi good relationship with my father; he lovingly (i think) use to call me brat . for context an often used sentence would be “what do you want for dinner, brat? I was thinking pizza.” i changed it because i haven’t gotten along with my dad in years and the name kinda soured over time,, and i had nothing else to use for tumblr . now it casnextdoor because 1) i love partynextdoor’s music.,, and because its very average . something someone wouldn’t really think twice about .

18. following; i follow 87 people .,, i am N O T naming every single one of them .

19. followers; im almost at 100 which FUCKING COOL ! but yeah .,,

20. i dont really sleep at night . but on a good day maybe 6 hours . on a bad day not at all .

21. lucky number.,, 3. and ill explain just a bit . im 3rd born out of all 6 of my siblings (dont ask😕) the letter in my name is the third letter of the alphabet and because three alwats seems to pop up everywhere for me .

22. instruments; saxaphone . not explaining further .

23. what am i wearing; my work shirt and my roommates boxers .

24. a fucking BEHAVIORAL ANALYSIS !! growing up i watch A LOTTTTT of criminal minds which is kinda how i picked my major . because i wanna meet the garcia to my derek . thats a joke .

25. favorite food; store bought ramen and anything that can be eaten with Nutella and taste good .

26. tea or coffee; depends on the day .

27. Nationality; i feel like thats different from race so specifically.,, i am hispanic and haitian .

28. favorite song; My time by Jk ..,, Mic Drop by BTS.,, paper hearts by tori kelly, OHMAMI by Chase Atlantic .

29. Last Book I read; Paper Towns by John Green ; i sincerely love that mans work

30. top 3 fictional universes id want to live in; Harry Potter because why not.,, twilight because someone gotta slap sense into bella.,, haikyuu because bokuto🥺

tagging my love @jaysdimples

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nepenthendline · 4 years ago

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Mental Health Headcannons - Tsukishima, Kageyama, Ushijima, Tendou & Bokuto

All these are from my knowledge and based off of each character’s actions haikyuu, this is all my opinion so feel free to discuss other thoughts! I’m happy to talk about each more in depth if anyone would like it :) this is just me projecting my own problems on fictional characters

You can also message me if you wanna talk about these too!!

This is going to be long

TW: Mental health, learning difficulties, eating disorders, self-harm

Tsukishima - Depression, Anxiety & OCD

Tbh someone else (I’ve been trying to find their username to tag them but I can’t find it, they’re called something like theguessmonta but idk) has amazing posts about Tsukishima and his mental health which I totally agree with all of it so some of this is going to be pretty similar

I think his mental health problems started when he was quite young, around the time when the Akiteru drama happened so he’s been dealing with these for a while

Having depression can often make a person seem very disinterested/sarcastic/negative as a way of pushing back emotions and self-protection which explains a lot of the way Tsukishima acts towards some people (I have a whole post on how he isn’t just some asshole)

His anxiety stems from a place of terrible self-esteem and self-image, it’s clear to see he has a bad sense of self-worth when he talks about how people are obviously a lot better than him, he’s just there to ‘stop trouble happening’

Tsukki suffers from panic attacks quite regularly (especially when he was a bit younger) but he tends to shut himself off then they happen, he doesn’t want anyone else to see him like that

His anxiety and overthinking is often why he keeps his headphones on him at all times, listening to music helps drown out the sounds around him and those in his head

His OCD got worse over time - first it was things like turning the light switch on and off repeatedly until it felt right, or tapping on his desk before he went to bed, but as his anxiety and self-esteem got worse it developed into him needing himself to be perfect

This included only eating a certain amount of calories a day (no where near the amount he should be eating) or getting a very specific grade on an exam, where even one number over or under set him into a panic

Things got to their worst for Tsukki around the age of 13 - this is where he was much too underweight and self-harming on his hips (so no one else could see)

Probably also thought about suicide a couple times around this point

He has tried a couple different types of anti-depressants in the past, however none have seemed to help

He likes a lot of time alone - he gets too overwhelmed dealing with other people

The only person besides his family and Yamaguchi that knows about his OCD is Kageyama - they both noticed each others odd, repetitive habits until Kageyama asked him about it one day, while they don’t get along too well, they feel some comfort in each other understanding their actions

Kageyama - Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD)

wow what a smooth segue

this boy is like a walking definition of ASD - coming from a person with ASD

Kageyama was diagnosed with Type 1/High-functioning Autism when he was very young (probably around 3-5 years old)

He struggles with social interaction, knowing what to say to people and most importantly, how to say it, e.g. when he smiles people often think he looks angry

Kageyama has never had many, if any, friends before Karasuno, as he has often struggled with conversation and speaking in an inappropriate tone that may make some people uncomfortable or even scared

He isn’t very good when it comes to remembering academic studies but if it relates to his fixations (volleyball) he is extremely intelligent - this is seen clearly when Daichi shows their team hand gestures and Kageyama says he remembered them in a day

Kageyama uses masking a lot - it’s a technique people with ASD tend to do which involves copying other peoples actions in order to understand social situations, he does this many times in the anime/manga such as his awkward BBQ song dance, or high-fives

He visited a social worker once a week while he was little until he started middle school, resulting in his behaviours getting worse

Towards the end of his first year at Karasuno he went back to therapies regularly and has anger-management training in order to help him express himself in a manageable way - he probably won’t admit it but it helps a lot (key note is that having anger-management training often does not have anything to do with anger, simply just managing emotions in general but it often a great type of therapy for those with ASD although he is a bit of an angry boi sometimes)

ASD comes with repetitive, almost OCD-like tendencies - two examples include filing his nails every single day and having a very specific routine before going to bed that consists of drinking milk, putting on pjs, laying in bed and throwing + catching a ball, brushing his teeth and going to bed on his left side - if he doesn’t do these things at the right times/in the right order, he gets extremely anxious and agitated

It is important to remember people with ASD tend to also have another mental health issue, such as anxiety or depression

Ushijima - Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD)

autism buds with kageyama

I kid thats probably a bad idea

Ushijima was also diagnosed with Type 1/High-Functioning Autism when he was 5

Unfortunately due to the stigma around Autism, his family (besides his father) were not very accepting of this and he was put into therapy at a young age

While this was actually helpful for him, his family insisted his therapies should ‘cure’ him and were dismissive of the many times a doctor told them that ASD is not a curable disorder

Outside of therapy he does not receive much support from his family, except his father who got him a pair of noise-cancelling headphones he used to wear until he 8 whenever they went out together - he was only allowed to wear them if it was just him and his father, the rest of his family thought it made it too obvious there was ‘something wrong with the child’

Extending on this, Ushijima was very sensitive to sensory input as a child, and while he still is, it has become easier to manager as he has gotten older

His ASD is most prevalent in his lack of understand ways of communication, such as sarcasm or jokes, and tends to take things very literally

@simp4satori and I came to the conclusion that if you were to call him daddy during sex, or ask him to ‘punish you’ the poor boy would have NO CLUE - would probably call your dad and tell him you needed to speak to him, or say you can’t watch anime for a week lol

He is extremely direct when he talks, to the point where it comes across rude or hurtful but he doesn’t realise this until someone mentions it

Tendou probably helps him rephrase things from time-to-time in order for him to get his point across

He gets very anxious when faced with things he doesn’t know about or understand (this is mentioned by Tendou in the manga), this can include people, going to new places or trying new foods

It is important to remember people with ASD tend to also have another mental health issue, such as anxiety or depression

Tendou - Depression and Anxiety (also a highly sensitive person - that’s not a mental health disorder or illness but it does affect him)

Tendou’s mental health suffered from a young age due to bullying in school

This caused a lot of low self-esteem and low mood, and he was later on diagnosed with depression and anxiety

Only his family, Ushijima and his coach know about this, and even then, only his family know any details

No one would really expect Tendou to deal with such mental health issues as he always keeps a bubbly, happy persona around others - he doesn’t want people to think he is weak or cowardly

It is also hard for others to see and he is someone with high-highs and low-lows, so when he is happy or excited his emotions are quite extreme

Tendou’s anxiety relates a lot to his image, mainly his appearance and the way he acts, but he is also a general over thinker

He doesn’t have panic attacks as often as Tsukishima does, however they do happen occasionally when things just get too much

He often thinks that people are staring at him, or talking about him whenever he goes out, and he tends to hid this by seeming overly cocky or sardonic

When his depression hits, he tends to just feel sad or hopeless instead of numb, which tends to trigger his anxiety too

Tendou used to self-harm often around his hips/thighs however he hasn’t done so since the end of his first year of high-school

Probably makes a lot of dark ‘jokes’, especially around suicide and people semi are like ‘...dude...you ok?’ and he’s just like ‘hahaha yeah im fine what’

He doesn’t like alone time too much as he tends to get trapped in his own thoughts

As expected of the guess monster, he is extremely good at reading and understanding people, which is how he finds it easier to help and communicate with Ushijima

Bokuto - ADHD

A lot of people at Fukurodani think Bokuto is just stupid, however he actually has ADHD

He was diagnosed a lot later than the rest at 12 years old

Bokuto tends to struggle with his studies as his attention-span is very low and can get distracted easily - either by things in the classroom or his own thoughts

He’s very forgetful, often forgetting his lunch at home or forgetting to do/bring in his homework, and this goes into volleyball too where he forgets how to do certain moves

Taking exams are the worst for Bokuto, he hates having to be still and quiet for such a long time and is very sensitive to little sounds or movements that distract his attention - you’ll often find his bouncing his leg or fiddling with his pen

He tends to butt into conversations or interrupt people when they are talking, he just gets a bit too enthusiastic to share his thoughts

He has extreme mood-swings too which we see often in the anime, especially when he is stressed or someone mentions his behaviours

Is very reckless - Akaashi has probably had to stop him from leaning too far out the window and almost falling to look something

The whole Fukurodani volleyball team are aware of his ADHD and do their best to help him and make him feel comfortable or accepted

They are the only people allowed to call him stupid - they will fight anyone else

I think there are more characters with mental health illnesses or disorders, such and Yamaguchi, Yachi, Kenma and Asahi having anxiety so I might write more at some point!

#jesus that was long #haikyuu #ushijima wakatoshi #kageyama tobio #tsukishima kei #bokuto koutaro #Tendou satori #Tendo Satori #headcannon #mental health #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu scenario #haikyuu!!

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riviae · 5 years ago

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what if geralt catches regis looking in the mirror, tells him to close his eyes, and starts softly touching different parts of his face and describing them to him. or he has someone paint a portrait for him to look at instead ;_; im sorry your post made me sappy

It became an odd habit of sorts–checking his nonexistent reflection in the mirror–Regis realizes as he brushes off specks of dust from his jerkin. The standing-length mirror situated in the corner of his crypt had been a bit of an inside joke at first–he was already a vampire living in a cemetery, after all; what was stopping him from indulging in a few more lighthearted jokes? He already felt a secret pleasure at the garlands of garlic and collection of silver utensils he kept in his makeshift abode, so it was only in due time that he picked up an antique mirror from one of the stalls in the Beauclair marketplace, careful to keep the glass wrapped in a heavy, dark green fabric until it safely passed the threshold of his home.

And so the mirror remained, half-hidden in a dusty corner of the mausoleum, a few stray candles on a nearby table offering only a meager flicker of light. Not that Regis needed the candles either, but candles were a very human invention and one the vampire knew made humans feel just a little bit safer. Even if his only human visitor nowadays was Geralt, a witcher who could see perfectly fine in the dark, he had grown accustomed to the warm orange glow, the way the tiny beacons of light reminded him of his time spent amongst humans, learning and growing into the person he was today.

Just as Regis moves to adjust the cuffs of his shirt, he hears it: a familiarly slow heartbeat and with it, the faintest whiff of blood. Not Geralt’s, thankfully, but as the witcher grew closer, Regis could tell that he had recently bathed and cleaned his armor–it was his swords that carried the scent of old blood–both monster and human–a scent that could never be washed out completely. The swords had spilled so much blood despite Geralt’s best attempts at pacifism. He was a kind-hearted man by nature, but he knew when his only option was to kill.

“Hey,” the witcher greets, an easy grin upon his face. He meets his own gaze in the mirror before his eyes dart to the vampire. “Hmm… thought you hated mirrors.”

Regis turns away from the mirror, giving the witcher a fond look. “I hate that I have to avoid them. It’s the same with dogs, sorcerers, and telepaths–I have no hatred for them, I just dislike that I must go out of my way to avoid them.”

“I remember us having this conversation before. Think that was the first time I saw you really smile.”

“Is that so?” Regis begins, “Your memory is impeccable as always.”

“Only for certain things. Certain people,” Geralt replies, giving a tired shrug of his shoulders.

The admission, no matter how casual, sends a pleasant thrum of warmth through the vampire. For a man allegedly devoid of emotions, Geralt had quite a way of expressing them. Regis didn’t bother hiding his teeth as he smiled, lips pulling into a wide, happy grin.

“Careful with those fangs. Someone’s bound to notice,” Geralt teases.

“The only prying eyes here are the dead so I don’t think I have much to worry about.” With a lighthearted roll of his eyes, Regis turns back to the mirror, fiddling with his cuffs yet again.

Geralt’s voice suddenly sounds distant–but perhaps that isn’t the right word. Regis knows what grief sounds likes, the hollowness of it, the way it echoes in the emptiness of what was lost; the witcher’s voice sounds bereaved, but there’s an underlying fondness to it. It’s reminiscent; hopeful, even. “Remember when we first got to Beauclair? How everyone crowded into your room to get ready for the banquet?”

Regis huffs out a laugh. “How could I forget? Angouleme came in brandishing a pair of garden shears and asked me to cut her hair.”

“You even humored everyone with your floating scissors routine.”

Regis grew silent, unable to stop the flurry of memories that Geralt’s words had conjured up.

There was Milva begrudgingly slinking into the chair in front of the mirror to let Regis trim her bangs, expression softening as the rhythmic motions of having her hair cut lulled her into a light doze. When she stirred, she gave Regis a serious look and thanked him for his services. Whether she knew that the vampire had noticed her slipping out into the stables near the palace to cry at night, had noticed the tired bags under her eyes, and had helped her fall asleep peacefully for the first time in weeks, Regis wasn’t sure, but he did know that it wasn’t long until Milva began saving him a seat beside her during breakfast.

There was Cahir, usually silent and pensive, who suddenly showed a polite interest in all things related to Regis’ culture as a higher vampire. It was a unique parallel that they shared, both being sojourners in lands they did not belong to. Beauclair was as close to home as Cahir had been since Ciri–and then Geralt–had spared his life despite his connections to the Nilfgaardian Empire. Perhaps he had simply been feeling homesick as he sat in front of Regis’ mirror, invisible hands carefully trimming the are of his head where an axe nearly severed his scalp from his skull.

Even Dandelion had stopped by his room at some point, waxing poetic about the Duchess while Regis ran a brush through the musician’s long, blond curls. Their conversation drifted easily from topic to topic, spanning the arts and politics until undoubtedly returning to news about their company. Dandelion had always shown a near selfless interest in Geralt’s safety, that much was obvious to Regis, and only solidified that, despite appearances, the man was a genuinely good friend to have.

Then, his mind drifted to Angouleme. Perhaps the greatest tragedy of Stygga–he preferred to think of happier times, of happier memories, of the lopsided grins and loud laughter that she brought every day to the breakfast table while they wintered in Beauclair. And, of course, her endearing antics, which only increased in creativity when she realized that Regis had no reflection.

When he finally spoke aloud, his lips twist into a wistful smile. “Ah, that was quite funny, wasn’t it? That was the first time anyone–human, vampire, or otherwise–saw my lack of reflection as interesting, as something to be explored and, dare I say, something endearing about me. I enjoyed having dear Angouleme on my shoulders… even if she did kick me a few times by mistake during her theatrical performance.” Regis pauses, his hands reaching on reflex for the leather strap of his satchel that wasn’t there. Instead, his hands found purchase in the fabric of his jerkin, fingernails scraping harmlessly against the surface. “You know, I would do it all again. Even knowing what I do now, knowing how this all eventually ends, I wouldn’t trade my time with our little rag-tag group for the world.”

“Neither would I,” Geralt affirms, reaching over to squeeze Regis’ shoulder. The vampire was acutely aware of how his touch lingered there, the warmth and weight that radiated from the man’s simple comforting gesture.

The reflection in the mirror shows only the witcher, one hand stretched out into the dark, grasp loose and empty.

“It’s a bit strange, isn’t it?” Regis says. “It’s like I’m not even here. Without a reflection, it almost looks as if you’re talking to a ghost. It was difficult after Stygga to piece my body back together. Even with Dettlaff’s help… I was, well, I’m almost ashamed to admit it, but I was convinced for some time that I was truly dead. There was nothing left of me aside from my consciousness. And once I did grow strong enough to begin the arduous process of becoming flesh and blood again, I had no real memory of myself to work with. I could only build back my appearance based on how I’ve heard other people describe me, of how Dettlaff described me when I was naught but a bloody smear in a dish.”

“Well, I think you did a good job,” Geralt replies, watching his own reflection as he–almost as if driven by instinct, some vestigial trait from the few vampire genes that were added to his mutated genome–reached up to gently cup the right side of Regis’ face. He knew exactly where Regis was, knew him well enough to reach out while his gaze remained fixed on the mirror, as if he was actually there beside him in the glass. It was only when he spoke again that he met Regis’ eyes, voice barely above a rumble. “You look a bit older, a bit more world-weary, but I recognized you immediately.”

Regis immediately leaned into the touch. Here, in the privacy of the crypt, he allowed himself a brief respite. He had spent so long trying to hide parts of himself, to hide the parts of himself that had realized long ago that he had fallen for the witcher. But now, after all the weighty events they had lived through, Regis was tired–and this, the warm hand on his face, the feeling of a sword-callused thumb rubbing absentmindedly at the high point of his cheekbone… it threatened to undo him entirely. He knew Geralt would never so much as point his sword at him now, unable to even think about harming him despite his relative immortality–and yet, the steady, consistent thrum of affection he felt for the witcher? It sometimes felt like it was cutting him to pieces, reshaping him into something that would rather turn into a pillar of ash than never see Geralt again–but it also felt a lot like love. Adoration. A warmth in his chest at the sight of the white-haired witcher, gold eyes lidded in contentment whenever his gaze wandered over to Regis.

“It’s really a shame you can’t see yourself,” Geralt says, hand drifting into Regis’ hair, gently combing a few dark grey locks behind his ear. “But I can help… if you’d let me.”

Regis inhaled sharply, unable to do anything but give a shaky nod of his head, mind spinning. He feared what he might say, what tightly-held secrets he’d divulge for Geralt alone, his thoughts centering upon a simple mantra: I’m not alone in these feelings–I can’t be…

Geralt’s thumb traces the edge of the vampire’s brow almost reverently and Regis can’t help but shiver at the touch. “You’ve got dark, thick eyebrows mixed with a bit of grey and silver. It suits you. You didn’t always have as much grey in your hair as you do now… but I like it. Feels right, somehow.”

The witcher’s hand drifts to the corner of the vampire’s left eye, index finger curled underneath a few black lashes of his bottom eyelid. “Your eyes are dark–almost as black as your eyelashes. It isn’t easy to see the separation between your iris and pupil. It makes it difficult to tell what’s going on in that head of yours sometimes, but I like that. Sometimes it’s too easy to read people. Ah, and you’ve always had a very obvious set of crow’s feet in the corner of your eyes. It just means you’ve smiled plenty. That you’ve been happy, and that even subconsciously, you were aware of the happiness you felt, that you let it show on your face after regenerating.”

He continued, stepping away for only a moment, as if he were trying to put Regis’ entire visage to memory. As if this would be the only time he would get to see him like this again: unguarded, open, hopeful, a vulnerable side that clashed so obviously with his near immortality as a higher vampire. Geralt smiled, drawing closer yet again. “Hmm… your features all together make you look aristocratic. Like I’d see a painting of you in a castle. You’ve got an impressively crooked nose and a sharp jaw. Your cheekbones are high too and you’ve got a few wrinkles on your forehead that make you look distinguished. You’re stunning–you’ve always been stunning. ”

“Geralt…” Regis breathes, tone bordering desperation. “Please…”

Wordlessly, Geralt closed the gap between them with a kiss, hands cupping Regis’ face. The vampire encircled his arms around Geralt’s shoulders, closing his eyes as he felt the tension in his body disappear. There was only the touch of Geralt’s lips against his own, the warmth of his hands against his cheeks, and the heart-tugging realization that he was truly home. It didn’t matter where he was, so long as Geralt was with him. Because Geralt knew him, knew all of him–the dark, the ugly, the cowardly, the parts of himself that kept him teetering on the edge of relapse–and still loved him.

It had always been Geralt who saw him–the one person he trusted to be his mirror, to help him see the parts of himself that were worth loving. And it had made all the difference.

#geralt of rivia #emiel regis #geralt x regis #so sorry this took so long ;v; idk how but the drabble got away from me #love the idea of geralt being regis' own moral mirror so to speak #as well as just pointing out all the physical features he loves #anyway i'll probably edit this more later & upload it to ao3 when i get the chance!! hope y'all enjoy it~#[frantically cleans out drafts]

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ddaenqu · 5 years ago

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Tea for Two

pairings: yandere prince!namjoon x fem!reader

themes: Kingdom AU, Angst, Mature, Yandere AU, Arranged Marriage AU

tags: possessive behavior, obsessive behavior, unhealthy behavior/relationship, toxic behavior/relationship, overprotective behavior, arranged marriages, threats, threatening, slight sexism, forced marriage, infidelity mention, mentions of violence, some grotesque scenes of death, explicit langauge, mentions of slaves

a/n: ahhh i finally finished it! i’m sorry if there’s so much mistakes, i tried to edit it as much as possible but sometimes i kind of just write and read, and don’t pick it up. i was sick while writing this and (maybe) still sick when i schedule-post it. the reader’s personality was by far my favorite to write in this one, and i hope you all love her as much as i do!! (and the gif i wanted didn’t work when i tried to save it, SO IM MAD MAD)

based on the prompt: “Say that one more time and I’ll make sure you can never walk again.”

summary: Life wasn’t fair to you, and it didn’t give you happiness, hope, love—neither lemons. It gave you tea. The finest quality there is, in the wrong situations.

The tea tasted horrible, bitter and frothy against the sides of your mouth, the number of sugar cubes you dropped in couldn’t help the bland taste. You’d say this was the worst thing you’ve ever drunk, and that was saying a lot as over the years your senses were built to enjoy even the most bitter and sour, watered-down, and scalding hot drinks.

You forced yourself to take another sip and decided that it truly was the worst. Setting it down onto the glass saucer gently, a small clink resonating through the still room, you looked around—as you have been for the past five minutes. The room didn’t change, you remind yourself, you’re still in the same stupid cushioned seat since you first arrived, and your firm corset is doing well to hide your panicked breathing and nearly accomplishing its goal to crush all of your ribs in record time.

“Another cup? Your grace?” you hear the baritone-like voice of the butler, dressed in a beautifully tailored uniform, gold gleaming from the seams. His hair was dark brown, his eyes glowed brown with speckles of gold, and his kind smile had always done well to keep your behavior at bay.

You waved it off and returned a smile of your own, genuine or fake, you couldn’t tell anymore. “No thank you, Seokjin, I’m fine.”

The room almost jolts to life to the informal address towards Seokjin, one of the many butlers, more commonly called Mr. Kim. But he pays no heed to the informality, he doesn’t mind at all, he’s known you for quite a long time and has figured out along the way, from your awkward teenager days, and to your dumb young adult antics—that you hated honorifics.

His smile never leaves his face, never falters, never twitches. “Are you sure? You’ve only had a cup since coming here. Would you enjoy something else? Your grace?”

“No, thank you though.”

“Of course, your grace.”

The room returns to its quiet state once again, all the maids and butlers are positioned with perfect forms, and the knights stand guardedly by the doors. Although it’s quiet, the one thing anyone loves in this line of work, the room burns in tension. You could feel the eyes of hundreds as they could feel every small movement you make against their cold flesh.

But you’re not one to have an outburst or a temper for that matter. You weren’t allowed to.

To be raised as the daughter of a duke, you’re raised with high expectations.

You had to fit in with any trends that were fashion-related and keep up on them, you didn’t need to know about anything else, not the war—as you couldn’t ever enlist, no woman could. You had to have perfect etiquette when eating or talking. You had to walk in sync with others, couldn’t walk ahead, you were taught to walk in heels and dresses. You had to smile, that was the most important job you were told, they drilled in the thought that even an untalented and useless girl could attract the best with a simple smile.

You were raised to be the embodiment of perfection.

To be the perfect woman—the perfect wife.

You were glad that where you sat, faced with a grand window and offering the kingdom’s garden, and the front of the mansion they lived in, you could see anyone who had arrived. It’s more like a warning for you, to prepare for it, whatever you were preparing for.

At one point you thought if you could really go through with this, to go against everyone’s wishes, most importantly your parents and the queen.

If you were unlucky and turned out unfavorable to the queen, you’d be beheaded or worse—forced to continue on.

The thought of having young children watch your head fall dead as the rest of your body, them finding odd entertainment in something so vile, made your stomach sick, that disgusting tea rising in your throat. The taste stuck to the back of your throat and a gag reflex was seconds away from appearing.

A heavy sigh comes from you as you try to smooth the creases in between your eyebrows, your headache from this morning has returned with a white noise keening in the back of your head and the silence is only making it worse.

“Seokjin, can you get me something cold to drink—water, quickly,” you say, but it’s in an authoritative tone, automatically.

“Of course, your grace,” he replies and turns to get the pitcher of water, setting down a new cup and pouring cold, iced water. All the while, he’s busy boring eyes into your head, noticing all the defined lines, dark bags, and blotchy makeup trying to hide your stress. You hope he has enough sense to not ask.

Seokjin returns the pitcher back to where it sat last time and adds space between you and him, in which you inwardly thank him.

Suddenly, the dark oak doors in the middle of the room open, revealing two men you believe are on the council, and the other being the prince of Esthersa known as Kim Namjoon—your fiancé.

The two shrub-like men standing beside him, small and incompetent compared to his domineering figure. You almost cringed to the fact the whole room had to stop and brighten in awe, and you would say you were almost embarrassed by his grand entry.

“What I’m saying, prince—,” one of the councilmen stop and quickly correct himself, “Your Royal Highness, forgive me, is that it would be better if we sent some of the knights to the south—”

The other quickly cut him off, “war is arising in our neighboring kingdoms, it’s better if we abide them by their rules and arrangements, they had asked—”

Something in Namjoon snaps in seconds and the councilman closes his mouth mid-sentence, a rare sight to see when he was usually a reserved and calm person over the years. His eyes burn in anticipating rage before his lips reach into a grin, you could tell animosity was burning at his patience from the way his body became stiff, for reasons unknown to you.

He turns to the two men who stood behind him like cowering dogs, saying something that you couldn’t hear, but guessing from the two council members reactions, it wasn’t very pleasant, to say the least.

It was odd to see him get worked up so easily over a simple conversation. Most of the time, it had to be his parents or an argument from one of his siblings to make him angry. You’ll have to refrain yourself from asking, nosying wasn’t an attractive trait.

“Mr. Kim,” Namjoon calls and Seokjin, who stood behind you, immediately rushed over to him.

“Show these two gentlemen to the front,” He orders in a calm voice, “and tell the rest of the council members that we will end it there for the day.”

“Of course, Your Highness.” The butler bows to the prince and takes the two pale men away from the room, the doors closing with a bang, the knights regaining their positions.

You hear a deep sigh vibrate the room, Namjoon settling down into the chair across from you where another cup of tea stood untouched and a plate with one scone on it.

Mildly unsettled now that your one person of comfort had left the room, it would be nice to have someone you know to be there if things went wrong.

“I’m sorry for the disruption, they tend to follow when they don’t get what they want,” he explains, although, you already knew that from being around him and his family enough, or anyone who had the title of a noble.

“Typical,” you reply and watch him take a sip from the teacup. “But I did ask to meet unexpectedly without any warning, that is purely my fault.”

He lets out a faint chuckle and his body feels more pliant, still very much aware, yet comfortable in his seat. His eyes softened and his hands were no longer curled into fists as they were before.

The Kim Namjoon you knew appearing before you. The one you’ve known since kids. Grown into all of his features, his baby fat no longer there, dark brown choppy bangs sprawled and swept against his forehead, the bruised he prided in from training became faint, and his awkward, lanky body grew into one of an actual prince.

“It’s fine. I’m sure it’s important, you rarely visit by yourself, so it must be serious,” he assures, “you have all of my attention, love”.

“Yes,” you speak before thinking, the eloquent words you had in your mind began to scramble. You didn’t know if he knew why you were here, his words insinuated that he did—but—he seemed oddly happy. From the way his lips turned into a gracious smile and the use of the pet name, he’s never done that regularly. Or maybe he did? Maybe you’ve never noticed.

Was he maybe expecting something else? You thought, or could he be happy already knowing what you’re about to ask? Perhaps something else had made his day?

From the corner of your eye, you see movement and remember, there are others in the room as you speak, who could hear everything. Even if they did an oath to keep quiet about any private matters containing the royals, you didn’t want a group of spectators watching and making silent judgments when they don’t know anything. It's worse enough to have to speak to Namjoon in person, sending a letter would’ve been more appropriate, but your family had insisted you visit him the moment their eyes landed on the letter meant for him.

“Is it possible for the maids and knights to leave the room?” you whispered, your clammy hands trembling in the fabric of your dress.

Namjoon’s eyes narrow, deep in thought, but his expression keeps still and restrained. His hand goes up and makes a gesture akin to a wave, you’re too afraid to look anywhere that wasn’t his eyes.

Leather shoes clack and shuffle, metal creating a clicking sound like the door of the room shut close, barricading you and him inside, the silence consuming every spot and cup. You were alone with him.

“Thank you, Your Highness,” you gulp and he takes another slow sip from his tea, your mouth went dry. “The reason I came to visit was that I wanted to talk about our engagement.”

The words left your mouth, clear, making sure you’re not talking too much or too fast for him.

He raised his eyebrow and shuffled in his seat. Putting his leg over the over, his fingers toying with the curved, gloss handle as the cup rested in its according saucer.

“What about our engagement?” he inquired, interested, “enlighten me.”

“I believe,” you begin and then quickly add, “Your Highness”, to appease your painful anxiety, and to be as formal as you can at this point. “We need to find better solutions to increase the morale of your kingdom.”

“What does this have to do with our engagement? Are you, perhaps, proposing more outings together?” He shuffles once more in his seat, leaning forward. “And, if you’ve forgotten, technically it’s our kingdom.”

You sigh regretfully, you had made it to ambiguous for him to specifically pinpoint what you’re trying to say, anyone would take it the wrong way with how you phrased it, but you feel bad. The words you want to say are too blunt—for someone like Namjoon. Sure, he’s a prince, he’s built on nothing but “bloodlust”, and his expressions only vary to calm and angry-calm, however, he’s been nothing yet kind and equal with you. It feels unfair that you’re the one to bring it up abruptly, to make matters worse, you’re bringing it up before the war has ended, but it must be said, he must’ve already thought of it before.

“No, Namjoon—Your Highness .” Bile rises to your throat, and every word sounds foreign to you as you spoke, “what I’m trying to say is—Your Highness, I want us to annul our engagement.”

The room drops in temperature, which is far-fetched to say, there’s no way for a room to instantly get cold, and yet it does, somehow. The look in Namjoon’s eyes are cold, they’ve always been in some form—but they are just there, they no longer share the emotion his face and body don’t show, the only way you’ve read his answers and him. It’s gone. He’s just the prince.

He becomes slack against the chair, his back pressed against the chair, and his fingers now tapping against the wooden table, lightly, you add.

“‘Us’?” Is the only thing he mentions in his deep and solemn tone.

“Yes,” you continue on with your explanation, the one you’ve perfected over the courses of weeks. “I knew ever since we were engaged you weren’t happy with the choice, it wasn’t ours to begin with.” You look out the window to focus on the maids and other staff flitting about the front yard, relieving of your stress by a mile. “I was only engaged because of my family’s name, known for the looks or talent, well-liked by the people. Ultimately, I was only a sacrifice for peace between the people and you. But you already knew this.”

“I was one of many pawns,” is what you wanted to say. To create this grotesque picture of you being unhappy with this to-satisfy life, to make the biggest moves as everyone sits back and waits until they are called, to be the one taking everything. And to be cast away when you’re not needed anymore and rot with the others who have already played all of their moves.

You did not want to be that.

“I see.” Namjoon reaches for the tea once more and takes a sip, you watch his eyes stare at the bottom of his cup longer than normal, his cheeks were hollowed in from him biting the insides of his cheeks. “Is that truly what you wish for? War is still going on, and my parents will be enraged if I tell them this.”

You breathe in. “This is what I want. I had planned to be kicked from my title from the very start, and I know there are other ways to ensure peace among the people and neighbo—”

“Silence.”

Your mouth screws shut to his order, the malevolence seeping through the cracks of his calm expression, his eyes boring into your skull as the minutes pass, the pressure and guilt beating down on your body. You’re shaking. Your legs are, wobbling and trying to find support by rooting yourself near the legs of your chair, your hands numb with chills running up your arms.

Of all your time with being next to Namjoon, you’ve never seen him snap at you. You thought he didn’t care to, you knew how to put yourself in your place and control your attitude. You’ve never once made him angry.

Well—of course, in this situation he was going to be angry, but you didn’t think he’d be to the point of disgust showing through his tone. He was going to take most of the verbal abuse from his parents and constant begging from your own; saying how he was a coward to let her go, that him choosing to annul the engagement was to bring rebellion in all (for canceling an engagement was a way to tell people you were unloyal and indecisive, and nobody wants that in the future ruler of a kingdom). However, you knew that there were other ways—are other ways, if only he agrees to it.

Marrying another country, one with amazing morale and beautiful benevolence seeping through its kingdom, was the easiest way to ensure happiness among all—but not the fastest. There was bound to be small riots to rise along the way, fighting with cultural differences and the natural “once an enemy, always an enemy” cliché coming to play.

But he was Kim Namjoon, and if you had anything to say about him to someone who has never seen or heard of him, you would say he matched the standards of anyone. No matter too high or too low.

“So, you’ve heard?” His grin pulled into a menacing line.

“Heard what? Namjoon, did I—I mean Your Highness, did I—”

“The council wants me to marry with another kingdom.” His eyes wander to the window and beyond the window, then back to you and your lifeless body. “Is that what made you like this? All of a sudden?”

Does he really think this is stemming from the rumors surrounding him? Not only is he proving the rumors, but not noticing your distaste for this relationship with him from the beginning—he even said so himself that he did not want it.

“No, It’s been my wish since the beginning of this mess, I didn’t know you were being asked to, I was only listing one of the ways I’ve thought of. I’m sorry if I offended you, Your Highness.”

Namjoon doesn’t reply, which most often means he’s thinking. Thinking about what, you don’t know and don’t really want to have an idea of, but you do know that letting you be free of the engagement will be as torturous and burdening for you as it will be to him. Stripped from your noble title and all the power you get from it, every piece of jewelry or dress you’ve owned is burned, and then you’re all too familiar with living with the lower class after a few months. In short, you will become nothing.

Being nothing is better than this life.

“Alright,” he says after a prolonged silence. “I’ll announce it to my parents, if that’s what you wish for. Truly.”

With elegance, expression flawed and corrupted with disbelief that he had actually agreed when he easily could have said no, you rise from your seat, the chair scraping against the floor. You bow to the lowest your body could allow, offering all of your sincerity in that one bow, offering everything to him. You promise gold and riches to him as he sits in silence, knowing your parents will try to compensate for your “wrongdoing”. Saying more than needed “thank you”’s as your head hanging low in submission.

“I guess—Your Royal Highness,” you say with a meek voice, “this will be the last we see each other.”

Namjoon hums, and the natural fire in his eyes return. Interest.

“Maybe—it will be the last.”

You storm pass guards and guards.

To hell with those damned bastards, you curse as you wrench and try to twist their armored hands away from your arms, the steam burning at the tips of your skin and threatening to fall upon every being in the room beyond these doors.

“Your Highness, what has possessed you?” one of the guards ask, pushing your body against the golden handles of the doors, trying to do so without causing injury.

It’s only natural that they are more worried than upset at your sudden behavior change. You were kind to them, to all, those years of etiquette training had automatically made you into this perfect doll. Anger wasn’t ever present within you, having a temper wasn’t allowed. Just as everything else that made you remotely human wasn’t allowed.

“Let me through those doors, I need to see your prince,” you threaten, wounding your hand tight around an open space where his armor did not cover, gripping with fervor as your nails dig crescents.

“His Highness is working at the moment. He wishes to not have any disturbances, even by you, Your Highness.”

Your Highness.

That title made your insides scorch with blistering pain and a lump to rise to your ears, drowning out the sounds of nearby guards and maids who were witnessing this unfortunate scene.

The two guards that were positioned in front of Nmajoon’s door look at each other with uncertainty.

“Please compose yourself first, Your Highness, and we will let you in,” one requests, his hold is powerful, and yet it's not bruising on your skin. “We do not mean to be rude, we shall let you in as soon as you are you.”

“Fine,” you spit and the guards, taught to maintain bleak faces, wince to your tone.

As if they had been scolded—and it’s only natural that they do.

They’re being scolded by the next-in-line queen.

You will yourself to lose all hatred at the skin of your face, your features blending into a calm and coordinated smile, one that offered forgiveness, happiness, the well-being of the people were in that smile, your eyes gleaming with unprecedented love.

“May I see your highness?” you ask once more, the softest and lightest tone you could conjure from your hysteria.

The guards nod, metal ringing in the room. They’ve been swept by your façade so easily, expecting that you truly were the kindest human there was to be, completely forgetting your behavior moments before. Their hands individually clasp their sides of the two doors, opening it and revealing an office mixed with a library, a low light pouring into your view.

“Thank you,” is all you say before you enter, the doors closing behind you.

Truly ignorant fools, you think with a gritted grimace, your hands gripping the sides of your dress with a vice-like grip, wanting to rip it from its seams, to destroy it—you want to end it. All of it. Whatever it is.

You take a step forward, like a robot, you remember the way to his corner, where his desk sat and where he sat in the dark like some villain. You remember the guards naturally, it’s not their fault, they aren’t the villains, they are also the pawns of this game, they are the ones beside you. They don’t notice the twitch of your eyebrow, the small details when you smile, your eyes don’t fully crinkle at the sides, your smile doesn’t quite reach your cheeks, they don’t notice it because they only play for the big picture, taking the big picture and making it smaller—and smaller, so the higher-ups can find it of worth or not.

It’s not the people’s fault either, you keep reminding yourself as you turn a corner, another bookshelf. Another corner you turn, this time a small table with a lit lantern and paper stacks arranged side to side. It’s not their faults.

You stand tall, fire burning at the tip of your tongue and your skull splitting into two, hellish images appearing in your thoughts.

That’s right—it was his.

The man—your ex-fiancé and now husband—sitting at his dark oak desk, two lanterns lit in the small, cramped dark, his eyes burning into the page he was looking at with books laid all around. His hair falling out of its perfected form and laying against his forehead.

“What were you thinking?” you snapped, glaring at him.

He’s crazy, he’s absolutely crazy, you believe, that dreadful, unknowing face looking up at you with disinterest, dreadful.

He puts his quill down, interlocking his hands together, and that smile of indifference shows up like magic, his eyes flare with an unknown fever while his elbows prop themselves on the desk.

“What ever do you mean?” he asks slowly, as if you were slow-witted. “Why the face? Did one of my servants happen to anger you?” His face, frowning in solemnity, makes you think he believes his words proudly.

What a dumb and fickle mind he has, you curse.

“No, you know what you did,” you snarled, a violent tone controlling your words before you could reword them. “I told you I wanted it annulled, to hell with it! Now tell me why I’m getting praised by all for being the next queen—Namjoon.”

Fuck your title—“Your Highness”.

“Well,” he begins, “for starters, come—sit, have tea with me. There’s no reason to be mad, I’ll explain myself.”

“Are you playing games with me? Do you understand that your title is on the line?” you shout, getting annoyed with his idiotic antics, as if playing dumb will grant you sympathy. Your feelings are anything but sympathetic.

“I don’t understand what you’re saying, love, and I don’t understand how my title is on the line?” he replies, smooth and eloquent words, although, you can see you’re getting to him. His white-gloved hands are tightening into each other, his shoulders stiff and on a defensive stance. “Enlighten me, sit.”

His hand gestures to one of the chairs, a table next to it with a teacup on a saucer. You can feel the fresh heat from whatever substance is inside that cup, he knew you were coming.

You scoff, standing your ground. “You know that I am not one of your candidates your parents had planned to marry, you know what I am to you—to this damned kingdom.”

“Yes, I understand, I knew,” he sighs. “But with a little convincing, I had made sure they knew I wanted—”

“Namjoon,” you interrupt. “It seems you’ve forgotten, or have chosen to forget.”

His head nods to one side, his patience cracking like that smile of his, eyes that dull with any passion he had before, and instead, replaced with utter hatred. “What did I choose to forget, love?”

You know that tone. The type he uses on others when he doesn’t feel like being disagreed with, one that doesn’t want trouble. It wants complete obedience.

“I wanted this for myself, myself. Namjoon, I don’t want this life,” you partially fumed and pleaded, your eyes weakening into a puppy-like face, edging upon tears. Yet, your tone was still cold. “You even agreed to it, you said you would tell your parents. Just annul it before its too late.”

Namjoon hums, his eyes soften immediately to your face, it always has as you rarely use it. He turns a bit in his chair, looking off to the side and tonguing his cheek, he seems to be in thought. And maybe you forgive him, a part of you wants to, however, the rest just wants it to be over with.

“I didn’t—exactly agree. I never said it. I only said I would announce it to my parents.”

Hatred builds.

“Now come, as I’ve said before multiple of times,” he adds the last part with a light voice, he's deemed that everything is solved. Teasing in a way. “You truly are one stubborn lady, all the more I love.”

Love? This is his love? This was prison, torture.

Stuck within this round-about of a conversation. You come up with the last bit of strength before you really wish death upon this man—and might even go through with it, even if it meant him killing you for trying such a thing.

Death didn’t sound that bad at the moment, compared to what is happening.

“I don’t love you,” you state harshly, “I never have, and never will.”

“Oh please, you can’t tell me you’ve never once thought about marrying me?” he says so lowly, his eyes going back to the papers, trying to conceal the anger and frown growing on his face, you know he is. He’s going to relent and you’ll be free. A sinister man he was, but also a man you’ve been with for years. He had to have somewhat of a heart.

“No. I love someone else—”

Namjoon laughs, a mocking chuckle leaving his mouth. “Don’t be silly—”

“I love someone else, Namjoon. I have no interest in a man like you.” Your eyebrows, by now, have furrowed enough that it was ingrained into your skull from the way it felt. “I never have. I’ve never once wished to be with you. I. Do. Not. Lo—”

You think you’ve finally got him when his face stresses forward enough it’s close to hitting the desk. Your dumb lie of having another lover was a last-minute choice if all fails and goes to hell, at least dig a deeper grave for your own pride.

Then, a hand reaches out and slams on the desk, you can hear something crack under the weight of his hand, the room moves with the noise, vibrating in between your layers and layers of padding for your dress. His head snaps up and you can see a vein appear on his neck, even if the cuff of his jacket covers most of it, you can see it.

The look in his eyes are not dull, are not quiet, are not interested. They’re inhuman. With a vehement glare burning through your flesh, twisting a contorted image within the dark orbs. And that frown twisting into a snarl.

“It seems you’ve forgotten!” he plays in a distant tone, and it’s one that sounds so oddly placed from his angered expression that it scares you, you don’t notice you’re shaking. “I know you—all of you, I know who is in your life, whom you see, whom you talk to. All of it.”

You instinctively take a step back.

“So let me just say, no more arguing, I don’t want to hear it,” he threatens. “If you say that one more time, those dreadful words—you don’t know what you’re saying, darling, really. And I’ll make sure you can never walk again. One way or another.”

“Namjoon. You are mad. You don’t know what you’re saying. Do you even hear yourself?”

“Although, I’ve got your attention now, haven’t I? You didn’t seem to hear me before,” he mocks. “But pain, you don’t care if it’s inflicted on you, and I’ll make sure it hurts. I’ll find whoever else, any being you’ve talked to; your father, your mother, your adorable siblings—they’d be a very nice addition as slaves—even those guards I heard you bickering with.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” you say, a gasp leaving your quivering lips, goosebumps rising over your skin. He knew how much you adored your younger siblings.

“Oh, but I would,” he replies instantly, the anger in his eyes dissipate and they are once a void, again.

He watches you closely, you can feel his eyes roam your form, a small chuckle rising from him.

Images of your siblings being used as slaves, seeing them tend to the egotistic royals at such a young age, unconditioned with no resistance to horrid beings. Your servants and family burning at the stake like witches, others throwing their own sharp and bloodied weapons at them. Those guards, with their head down, waiting for their heads to fall before their body.

He was insinuating that their blood would be on your hands. You can’t imagine the guilt that would settle upon you if you ever had the fleeting idea to run away or kill yourself, or argue more.

You’re trapped again. It’s not his parents this time, it’s him.

“So,” he quiets down, the room that was blundering with energy was now light, the power he had felt equal again. “Let us sit and have tea.” No room for discussion as a white noise fills the room.

And you do.

That disgusting tea you hate so much, you finished within seconds.

(feedback is greatly appreciated! thank you for reading! 🧸❤️)

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toziers · 5 years ago

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can you explain what's going on right now? i keep seeing big IT blogs talking about some discourse or something but i have no idea what they're talking about other than it involves you lol

alright i like. i truly do not like having diScOurSE out in public because i’m not one to air out my dirty laundry 24/7 but seeing as how it was brought into public against my will i feel like the least i can do is clear up the situation for those who’ve been seeing the posts.

i’m putting this under the cut bc it’s long. tws for some biphobia, brief mention of transphobia and, at the end, a rape mention.

so if you don’t know: hi, i’m migz, i’m an it fandom blogger. its okay, i know, its really cool. part of my shtick here is that i like to turn normal thirst tags into works of art for the sake of comedy. perhaps you’ve seen some of my highlights from my “fhg” tag - perhaps your brain has been spared. either way, it became kind of “my thing” around the third or fourth week (mid nov) of me having this blog. at first, i tagged just about every ask i got mentioning the thirst tags with “bill hader” - they had to do with him, so why not tag him? it would draw more like minded people! about two days into that i got a message asking me to tag my nsfw. i am a big dumb idiot, and apologize for not initially doing it. i havent had a following bigger than like 10 in several years and completely spaced on basic etiquette. so by the end of november i was tagging everything applicable with “notsfw” and “bill hader”.

now you’re caught up.

on december 1st i got this message from user billhaderanti:

now i want to start by saying i absolutely was in the wrong here. i didn’t even think about how many people were being subjected to the asks i was getting - especially ones who had no idea they were all jokes. i don’t track the bill hader tag, so it just didn’t even occur to me - that’s ignorance on my part, and to anyone who was subjected to the terrors of me before my tagging system: i am genuinely sorry. i relay the same sentiment in my response, though you can tell i’m on edge.

and they replied:

clearly they Were offended by it but thats.. not the point. at this point, im feeling Really weird about the whole interaction, but still understanding, because again - i GET it. i know my posts are gross - that’s the point. it doesn’t make it excusable, though, which is why i understand why people are offended. so i responded with the only solution i Knew would keep us both safe and happy posting on our own blogs.

so i thought this would be the end of things! i’d been pretty anxious lately already since i’d started to receive anons telling me i was gross and whore-ish for thirst posting in this way (i delete all of those, so if ur thinking about sending one, i guess no one’s stopping you but it won’t be seeing the light of the dashboard). i’m unsure if it was immediately or a few hours later, seeing as how i have a bad concept of time and the post-dates are right on the edge between nov 30 and dec 1, but i went to their blog - because anyone who has been on the internet knows the opportunity to vague post is near irresistible. and...what do ya know

fair! it’s their blog. however i am an emotionally fragile egg girl and immediately got freaked out. the odds that they were the only one who thought this were low. and, again, i’ve been very open on my blog about how important it is to respect boundaries; my posts are absolutely prone to breaking those boundaries people have created for themselves.

so i made my own, semi-vague post, letting my following know (and i’m pretty sure i’d answered asks about it before, but this is going to be long enough w/o me searching those up too) that i understood if they wanted to block me or unfollow or whatever - people need to create their own safe spaces. the tension is pretty clear in the tags, i’m not trying to hide that. i felt that the way this woman slid into my dm’s was pretty abrasive (just my opinion/how it made me personally feel) and i let myself be a lil emotional about it in the tags of my post.

alright! maybe this is the end. maybe we both go our separate ways and post happily on our own blogs... except it’s not the end. later in the day (some of this was happening like 1/2am, so now its Day day, i believe - again, not good w time passage lol)

clearly, i’m upset. my groupchat double checked that i didn’t get too emotional in my response - did i mention im anxious about discourse lol - and apparently.. it did the trick. she didn’t message me again. great. it was over.

at this point, i decided i needed to make an even bigger change. so a few days after i’d calmed down i created an entirely new tag for my thirst posts so if people hadn’t already hidden the notsfw posts or just blocked me outright, they’d have a third option to escape the madness. at this point, id had my blog about 6? weeks, but there were still 2k posts for me to sift through - some of them were completely untagged. i also had to do it post by post, because one of xkits features - the mass re-tagger - was getting blogs deleted for some reason, and i wasn’t going to do that. so i spent a few days going through all 2k+ posts, adding the “fhg” tag.

YEEHAW! a brand new tagging system, no more hopping into the bill hader tag (minus one or two really funny, not super explicit asks, like the bill hader farquaad meme), and, tbf, i’d completely put this woman out of my mind. i don’t seek out drama and do my best to stay in my lane. yesterday, i checked my activity for the first time in awhile since id put out a couple new original posts that had started to get traction and i Love reading tags. i noticed a mutual had @’d me, and realized i havent checked my @’s in...ever, maybe. i see a post from my good pal billhaderanti.

since i dont follow them and never check my @’s, i’d completely missed it. however, once i did see it, i was horrified. id gone through all that fucking work to keep my blog My Blog and also respect everyone’s boundaries and it still hadn’t been enough. i’d been awake for almost 24 hours and went. a little crazy. and i didn’t reply immediately because i just had no words. i sent it to my friends because i... i just wasn’t going to be able to figure it out myself.

there’s a lot to unpack in this post alone, but whatever, i’m gonna put my own grievances with the immaturity of 1. making a callout post to begin with when i’d been nothing but civil 2. making a callout post about something as (in the grand scheme of Life) minor as some tags where i refer to a someone’s genitals as a “whack pack” and 3. making a callout post in such a rude way - aside. at the end, she calls me (and whoever else!) a demonic mlw (man loving woman, we assumed, and then later confirmed with a post further back on her blog).

which - yeah, we started scrolling. at first we were looking for more vague blogs, and then we just...started finding things. billhaderanti is a self proclaimed lesbian separatist, which... fine. but it’s already pretty clear that this woman hates me on some level simply because i am a bi woman (demonic mlw, remember!) which is just. damn man i can’t believe we are still fighting the biphobic fight lol. so the more we scrolled, the more we uncovered - and not just the biphobic / vaguely mtf transphobic things they posted (or put in tags), but we also found that they had their OWN thirst tags. certainly not as hyperbolically comedic as mine, but they were there, talking about his body and his person the same (and, frankly, a bit creepier for other reasons) as mine.

there’s one post in particular that snatched my wig in it’s creepiness - and i say creepiness in the sense that it feels personal. like this woman feels like she knows bill to some degree where she can say these things. my tags have always had a sense of distance, as they’re written for humor. and maybe this particular post was written for comedic purposes, but it doesn’t read that way, and if it WAS, then she has no right to call ME out for MY comic tags and posts.

i’ll let it speak for itself, mostly because i don’t want to read it again.

i also won’t be going through her blog again to find the posts with biphobic and other Interesting:tm: tags because there are plenty and i just really! want to be done with the whole ordeal! her blog is public and i’m sure you can all find it and look to your heart’s content.

feeling a bit feral and a bit pissed off now that we knew the depth of how rotten this woman’s vibes were, a couple of my pals made a post or two similar to what my tag’s are like except turned up to eleven (if possible) - and tagged them with “bill hader” (and notsfw!!). yes, a bit childish, but at this point, the entire situation was childish, and making jokes was truly the only way we were going to get through it. another vague post went up on her blog soon after.

talking down to us, calling us children, and then for whatever reason calling us virgins... whatever, weird post. around this time most of us (est) went to bed, because it was nearing 3 or 4 in the morning.

and then today happened. i woke up fresh and ready for the day after a wonderful 4 hours of sleep and found that jane had made an incredibly intelligent post in response to the situation. i won’t ss it, but i’ll LINK in case you missed it. attached there in the reblog is my own response. i think they can speak for themselves.

after that, things were kind of jumbled, since i wasn’t online a lot and when i was i was Not checking my activity simply because i was afraid of what i’d see. for the most part, it ended up just being support (which i am very grateful to all of you for - it means a lot that you all enjoy my content to any degree).

there was some more vague posting from both “““““sides”””””” of the “““““argument”””””” - mostly just people restating the fact that this is a public space and we should All be aware of how we effect others. i still hadn’t heard directly from billhaderanti, so i assumed we’d all be dropping and disengaging and moving on. i still wasn’t blocked, though, so who really knew what would happen.

eventually, it culminated in this last post. tw for mentions of rape

i’m going to start by saying that

1. there are nearly no teenagers that were involved in this. im turning 23 in january and most of my friends are 20+. maybe one or two are 19.

2. none of us sent any sexually violent asks - most of us didn’t send asks at all. i believe one or two of my friends admitted to sending asks however they assured me their nature wasn’t bad; as far as i know, everyone remained civil in whatever went on (again, unclear to me as to what was being sent; no one was actively posting or talking about it. if billhaderanti wishes to elaborate, they can, but i don’t have anything to put in).

3. before i finish this, i would like to apologize to billhaderanti. as a comedian - not just my stupid tags, i mean in real life, too - i know that humor can hurt. it’s not always funny, it’s not just stupid hahas. sometimes things that are supposed to be jokes just hit people differently and cause bad things. i recognize that. i never meant to trigger you (if you’re reading this) or cause you any severe mental/emotional harm. i apologize for my humor bringing up your trauma, and i never meant for that. regardless of my own thoughts and opinions about the nature of my posts/the thirst tags themselves, they hurt you, and i’m sorry.

anyway, i’m going to wrap this up (i’m bad at endings, what can i say! steven king and i took the same writer’s class!). if you read all this... sorry. i probably won’t be taking any asks about it, because i find the whole “drama” of this to be stupid and rooted in some seriously biphobic issues this fully grown woman has.

tldr; i attempted to contain my blog so this woman could exist and function safely on her blog, but it wasn’t enough for her, so she called me out, and then some of the fandom called Her out for being biphobic and mean and overall just immature about the situation. as of now, she’s yet to block me, though her and her wife have blocked a few of my friends. her wife continues to clown on my friends. this post was made for clarity’s sake. the end, i’m getting a drink.

#discourse #biphobia tw #transphobia tw #rape tw #ok goodbye im done with this im back to #only posting gay clown movie #Anonymous

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cheesecaketyrant · 5 years ago

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Hello all! I would like to take the time to say; Thank you to: (Unfortunately I can't tag them! But they are known as shockwavefan and as well Soundwave - I'm not sure if I do have them on Tumbler or not!) @artsy-archangel @zen-drift! Y'all are amazing!

Now, I tried to clean it as best to my abilities in the form of RP format.

I did realize that for the cover is not quite accurate. But that's okay! (There were few mistakes in the last post; Shockwave was the one who killed Megatron, not Optimus Prime)

I'll be posting these as Chapters and Parts. Anywho I'm sure some of y'all been waiting for the next post- so.. here!

Oh boy, this starting to look quite interesting!

Chapter:1- All Hail Shockwave

(Part:1-2)

--------

Shockwave saw that his people were cheering, he looked at his experiment, no one could read Shockwaves mind. Not even those who have worked closely with him for years know. He walked down the steps, his metallic feet hitting the ground with each step.

After a few hours since he had left the stage, he was underground. Shockwave was once again his old self, the senator long ago was gone; the leader they know now is fake. He became leader as a way to have access to more tools. On the table lied a Cybertronian, a Decepticon, he screamed in agony but they never reached their destination. After enough energon had leaked the victim stopped screaming. Behind Shockwave were multiple dripping bodies of Decepticons hanging upside down. Shockwave, the terror which spread through the Autobot army was back, only he wasn't affiliated with anyone but logic.

--------

Today wasn't the best of all days as a sudden riot began however this wasn't the first that has happened. Prowl has come to an assumption that someone is starting the mods on purpose therefore he's been sending in the authorites to investigate. Later, situations got worse when Decepticons came Archangel's office reporting missing friends that haven't returned to their homes for awhile. He assured them he'll handle the investigation and they left in high hopes they'll have their friends back.

Archangel sighed as he laid back againts his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose as he closed his optics. Everything seemed to be getting worse however some events were to be expected but not missing bots.

A knock on his door interrupted Archangel's thoughts. "Come in." He responded as he fixed his serious composer.

Prowl entered with a datapad in his servo. "My team has discovered the culprit behind the sudden riots." Prowl told him. "Ratbat has been planning a scheme however its unknown what his intentions are."

"Ratbat was a Decepticon..."

"Of course you would know that given your past. Was isn't the right word for it: he " is" a Decepticon. He's proven to still be loyal to the dead cause." Prowl interrupted him and handed Archangel the datapad. "While I deal with Ratbat, I need you to inform Shockwave about the energon supplies. We've been getting reports of cannibalism in the streets and the percentage of casualties is high."

Archangel straighten and his servo tightened against the datapad in reaction to what Prowl wanted him to do. Was he testing him again?

"I'll... Be sure he's aware of the problems." He said in a serious tone, hiding his sudden dread.

"Good. Send me a report when you are finish." Prowl said as he left.

Archangel slumped in his seat more and groaned from stress. "Primus give me strength." He whispered.

Through that whole conversation, Prowl didn't give Archangel a moment to speak. Yes he knew how much the mech disliked him but this was peculiar. Also asking him to deal with Shockwave was definitely really low since Prowl was aware of his past. He was planning something and Archangel wasn't sure he wanted to play his game.

-----------

Drift gazed at the datapad in his servo, optics ridges scrunched together in a frown as the latest census showed that instead of an increase in their clients in the housing, some area were showing a drop in numbers. Odd. He placed that datapad aside and pulled up the records for the previous counts. The decrease was there but very marginal. Enough to be explained away by miscount or simply some bots just up and leaving their designated housing, moving in with others or goodness knows what else. He had had to deal with a fair number of strange reasons that bots just didn't stay put. But this was beginning to look like a pattern or maybe his war-wired brain module was trying to put a more sinister twist to what could just be perfectly normal situation. Yet his tanks gave that curious twist that he always trust and he simple knew that something was up.

But who could he turn to? He could try his Senior Officer but he also didn't want to come across as being paranoid. Primus knew his religious habits already earned his strange looks despite most bots being really good natured about it, some even being interested. his old friends were...dispersed. At one time he felt he could trust Ratchet above all, but the mech had thrown in his lot and time with Shockwave now. And it made sense, The CMO was always aligned with a leader.

Drift rubbed his helf crest and stared at the numbers again. He didn't know anything beyond them and a tank feeling. It wasn't enough to go on. He needed to start doing some ground work. Subtly of course, since he didn't need to start a panic. He was no Jazz but he was a fairly decent interrogator. Maybe he could start with the Police Reports. See if there were any notices for missing bots and if those names matched the ones in his register.

He vented out and picked up the datapad again. He had really hoped things would be different this time around but it seemed that it wasn't going to happy crystals. A mech poked his head in. "Drift, we got another riot happening, this time a bit closer to the recent bot settlement. Some of them are demanding relocation. Boss wants you on it!" Drift nodded, out of his chair even before the mech finished speaking. "I got it," he said, shiting to bot mode and heading to the scene of the now dispersed riot. A tall blue Seeker frame caught his optic as he arrived. "Archangel?" he mouthed to himself but the Seeker was swallowed up by the crowd work and his duties and Drift had his own to attend to. He made a mental note to check and see if that was indeed the Seeker he knew. The frightened group of mech and femmes huddled together as he approached.

"Hello, my name is Drift. Im from the Immigration Center. I'm here to attend to your issues," he began giving them a smile. "We need to get away from this!" a femme blurted out in a high pitch whine of her vocalizer, "We didn't come back to be in more war!" Drift shifted to modulate his vocalizer to soothing but firm tone. "I understand that and unfortunately I cannot relocate you to another sector. However, lets go inside and I can let you know how to make this place a bit safer for all of you. The Police as you see also got this under control. Trust us to do our jobs. We will make this better." The group huffed but led the way into their housing, Drift following behind them, hoping he was right.

-----------

The war was over. Cyberton was in an odd state. Shockwave was leader, the Decepticons and Autobots were scattered. You could even say they were shattered factions. (Roll credits.) The two factions in the war now needed to find a way to co-exist somehow. Putting that dreadful war behind would not be easy. The Decepticons' leader, Megatron, had unfortunately ceased functioning. Killed by that traitor, Shockwave. Soundwave would rip out that traitor's spark if he had the chance. But the Decepticons were not fully lost. They were nowhere near their previous power, however. They had much fewer numbers, not as strong a fighting force, and they had a leader who could not even hope to amount to what Megatron did.

Soundwave was only there because he had nowhere else to go. He would almost certainly be executed for the things he had done during the war. So he stayed with the army that the previous Second In Command of the faction had gathered. Starscream. It would certainly take getting used to. Starscream is not the leader Megatron was. But perhaps that could change with time. Soundwave would have to stick around to see that happen, and stick around he would.

----------

He was fuming, any bot that was an inch from him got shoved out of the way, and others, well they got thrown. It was very typical of Starscream when he threw a tantrum, to flick pain on others.

Being treated like the under dog for so long, he had picked up habits, and mold them.

But, this time was different- his attacks were more brutal then the normal. Starscream wasn't sure who gave the cadet the go to scout energon, with out a group. Something was off, Starscream couldn't put a digit on what.

Turning on the communication, the channel had been switched to private- just in case any was listening in. Had pinged in Soundwave, :'Find out who on Primus gave authority for a one bot solo mission, on finding energon!' Starscream said, almost half shouting, leaving his comm open for Soundwave response.

Takeing a sharp left turn, the Seeker stomped with each step. Dearing anyone to stop him, behind him was the sound of petter patter steps from small peds that came from none other then Rattrap, "Sir! Please slow down!" Stopping in his tracks, Starscream spun around, his servos now propped onto his his. "Did you already taken care of that mess?" The new Warlord said, in a demanding tone, rushing the mechanic vermin.

"Yes, Mord! I did what you've asked of me-" without giving him any further ado, Starscream turned back around and started to walk again in big strides. However it didn't seem like Rattrap was finished, "I need to talk to you! About Cybertron-" with this Starscream stopped in his tracks.

"Speak, and make it fast." The once Second in command command, not giving any room for small chit chat. "Well, uh. There's been reports- about disappearing bots back on home." Rattrap paused, in order for Starscream to react. "Witch fractions?"

"If my calculation and resources are correct- both." Rattrap held a datapad in his servos, clutching onto it as if it was his life line.

"Is that so, Then tell me, whose your resources, and how did you found about this?" Rattrap began to shift his pedes looking nervous. "The mech you killled-"

"Finish your report, then once your done leave the data in my quarters. Once done, bring up the dead bots profile- see what's all on his background history!" Starscream shouted, by now- he was more mad at himself to act upon reckless thoughts and actions, which made his mood even more sour.

Rattrap better prayed to the all spark, that this was just some miscalculation- rumors no less. If not- Starscream had more on his servos then that a war he was sure he was going to lose.

---------------

Drip, drip, drip. That was all that could be heard in the lab, Shockwave was collecting it; it's unknown for what reason but it seemed important. To the side was a whole diagram of the standard Cybertronian anatomy, there were beakers everywhere. To his right was a list of Decepticons and their pictures, most were all crossed out except three, Soundwave, Starscream, and Archangel. His experiment betrayed him, now was the perfect time to strike. At the bottom of the list was Megatron, his first victim, this was all part of the plan to save Cybertron. After a few hours had passed underneath the lab, he walked out into the barren wasteland which was Kaon.

|The Office|

Shockwave made sure he didn't have any energon on him, he didn't want to arouse suspicion to his actions. He landed, waving to his secretary, his fake persona was just to be clear. He walked up to his office, he sat down in his chair. Moments after, his secretary called. "Mr. Shockwave, you have a visitor from the Police Department, someone called Archangel." Shockwave was surprised, why would he want to see him? "Bring him up, we'll have a talk."

----------

Archangel was waiting in the lobby as the secretary contacted Shockwave of his arrival. He scowled as he wished the bot would call him by his rank as he introduced himself before but it seemed to have slipped their processor.

"He's waiting for you now, Archangel. He's at the top floor." She told him.

Archangel bowed his helm respectfully as he hid his sudden dread. "Thank you." He said before he walked past the counter and entered the lift. He pressed the top floor option on the lift's console and the hatch slid shut in response and began to ascend.

Archangel's servos clenched tightly as he grew tense and tried the venting technique Rung taught him to calm him down, however his emotions were overwhelming which deterred his efforts to relax. Despite his failure, he hid how he felt rather well as he remained stern as soon as the lift came to a stop. The hatch opened into Shockwave's office. The large purple mech was sitting at his desk and seeing him again made Archangel feel sick in his fuel tank.

"Commander Archangel of Iacon's Police Department. I have dire reports that acquire your attention." He said seriously as he placed the datapad on his desk. "We've been having multiple cases involving cannibalism in the streets due to lack of energon supplies. The public wants actions regarding the issues before they manifest into more riots."

#starscream #drift #soundwave #shockwave #megatron #rattrap #prowl #bumblebee #laserbeak #optimus prime #Transformers: Shattered Fractions #idw transformers #transformers #roleplay #transformers roleplay

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lunalovefics · 5 years ago

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hazy shade of winter PART 1

pairing - felix rosier x mc

requested ? yep ! unfortunately i didn't get a username so i couldn’t tag them, but if this was yours please leave a comment because I loved writing this !

summary : you stay behind at hogwarts over christmas holiday and become much closer with a certain prefect while all of your friends are away...

warnings : slow burn ?

(also i haven't written anything in a hot minute so if this sucks i apologize and very much appreciate any constructive criticism as im trying to improve my writing. but im very excited this is the first fic im posting to my new account!)

It was a another freezing winter morning as I woke up unusually early, bringing the covers up over my head tossing and turning trying to fall back asleep to escape the cold for just a few more hours. I groaned throwing the heavy blanket away from my face taking in a deep breath, brushing the stray pieces of (h/c) hair from my eyes. It was no use. I was completely and fully awake, totally aware of how quite the room was without all my friends going about their usual morning routine. The only sound keeping me company today was the wind rustling harshly against my window as I stare at the ceiling now desperately wishing I had taken Rowan or even Bill’s invitation to spend the break with them. It was only the first day of holiday and I already missed them. ‘‘ it’s only two weeks.” I tried to reassure myself.

I look over to the window the sun still not even up, “if the sun gets to sleep in i should be able to.” I frown to myself as I realize i’m going to have to get up at some point. I bite the bullet and decide to try and make to most of the day, that thought lasted all of five minutes as after I brushed my hair and teeth I couldn't be bothered to exert any more energy. Assuming I’m either the only one in slytherin who stayed behind on holiday or at the very least the only one awake at this hour I decided there would be no better way to spend these next few hours then curled up in the common room next to the fireplace getting ahead of my studies. I quickly pulled on an over sized (f/c) sweater not even bothering to change out of my pajama pants and grabbed a few textbooks as I made my way down to the common room to find it actually decorated quite nicely, a christmas tree dawned our house colors, stockings over the fireplace, and a few other decorations here and there. I smiled taking in the scene as I sat back into the couch getting as comfortable as possible before opening my potions book.

I’d say I got in a good forty-five minutes of studying before I ultimately fell asleep. Potions always seemed to do that to me, hence why Penny had to tutor me so often. I was sure I had been out for a at least an hour or two as I finally woke up yawning as a rubbed my surprisingly still tired eyes. Looking down I noticed my book set neatly on the table in front of me and a blanket covering my now very warm body. It was only then that I looked over and noticed that I was in fact not alone here. Not even two feet away from me sat a familiar form.

“I see you are finally awake.” he didn’t sound as cold as he normally did, in fact he almost sounded pleased?

“Felix? What time is it?” was the only thing that managed to escape my lips as I was a bit shocked to see him.

“A bit after eight I suppose.” he replied marking a place in his book before sitting it on the table, turning to give me his full attention. “You know I don’t consider it wise to spend the night in the common room, I imagine it’s not very comfortable and it can get quite cold.” he added glancing down for only a moment.

That’s when I realized what exactly he was looking at. I was now all to aware of the fact that he was the one who had covered me with this blanket and neatly arranged my books. But why would he do that? Was he sitting there waiting for my to wake up? Was I overthinking this situation? Probably. I mean he was just looking out for his housemate, that’s what a prefect does after all. I tried not to make the situation any more than it was but I was unable to suppress the blush creeping up my cheeks. I sat up, now sitting criss cross only a few inches separating us.

“I wasn't down here all night.” I corrected him. “I woke up pretty early and couldn't go back to sleep so I thought it would be a good idea to come down here and try and get ahead of my lessons, but you can see how well that worked out.”

“I can’t say I’m surprised considering how many house points you've lost us by falling asleep in Snapes class.” shockingly he didn't sound as if he were scolding me like he normally did when it came to house points.

“It’s not my fault his voice is so unbearably boring that I have no other choice than to go to sleep.” I joked trying to lighten the mood. I swore I could see the corners of his mouth turn up ever so slightly. “What are you doing here anyway? Wouldn’t you rather spend the holidays at home instead of being cooped up here?”

“You know I could ask you the same question (l/n).” he replied raising a brow. I suppose he was right. Who am I kidding, he was always right.

l smiled at his response just sitting there for a moment taking in his features. It was nice seeing him outside of his house robes and uniform. He was wearing a simple grey turtle neck, black pants, and his normal black dress shoes. Good to know he still remained quite formal even when no one was a round to see. His hair was still slicked back and his cheek bones were just as sharp but something seemed different. His expression seemed less tired, almost relaxed. But I suppose that made since, even though we were stuck at Hogwarts we were still on holiday.

He cleared his throat, though our eyes never broke apart. Oh Merlin. I thought to myself, just how long have I been just staring at him. I averted my eyes as fast as humanly possible, practically jumping out of my seat. Smooth (y/n) smooth.

“Want to go to the Great Hall? I could really use some coffee.” I smiled mentally face palming myself as hard as possible.

He shrugged getting up from his seat, “Sure.”

And just like that the two of us started to make our way to the Great Hall.

(Felix’s pov)

It was only six am when I awoke to the cold nipping at me from under the covers, I looked around to my empty room and sighed as I would be spending yet another Christmas alone at Hogwarts.

“at least i can get some peace and quite.”

I soon got up to get dressed and made my way to the common room ready to get started with the day. Of course I didn't expect to see anyone else here at all let alone at this time, you could definitely say I was more than taken aback to find someone asleep on the couch. I felt my heart rate speed up even more when I realized that it was you. Questions immediately began to pop into my mind. Why hadn't you gone home on break? Why were you asleep in the common room? Had you been there all night? What were you dreaming about? I had caught myself off guard with that last one.

I looked around the common room at all the decorations I managed to get up that night before making my was over to you. Gently brushing a piece of hair away from your face tucking it behind your ear I smiled at how serene you looked. As I pulled the book you were reading from your hand my fingers grazed yours, you were freezing. After placing the book neatly on the table I went to my room to get you a blanket.

If you were going to sleep in the common room you should have at least brought a blanket with you. It’ll be a wonder if you manage to not get sick. I mean really you need to start being more responsible.

As I walked back in I couldn't help but just stare at you for a moment as I covered you up, I had never been more glad you were asleep as I was sure that you would have been able to hear every beat of my heart. I debated on whether or not I should sit in a different seat worried you would find my decision to sit next to you odd at the very least but I couldn’t resist. I sat down as slowly and as quietly as possible doing my best not to wake you, managing to sit back and start my book without causing so much as a stir.

I tried to read my book and ignore the fact that you were asleep next to me but it was almost as if the more I tried to concentrate the harder it became. I read the same sentence over at least ten time before finally giving in to watch over you as you slept, my eyes shifting back and forth from you, to the fire burning, and finally back to the book as I realized what a creep I was probably being and decided to try and give reading another attempt. But I still couldn't help but smile at every little snore. (if you don’t snore, well you do now uwu)

This went on for just a little over an hour before I felt you moving around, looking over as you woke up. When your tried gaze met mine I could feel my face soften, there really was no one like you.

(y/n)’s pov

It didn't take long to make it to the Great Hall as we walked there in almost total silence, not that I minded it was honestly nice just to have the company. Truth was I was grateful not only was I going to have someone to spend the holiday with but I was going to be able to spend it with Felix. I know we weren't close or anything, and given all the times I lost our house points he probably didn't like me very much but i’d be lying to say I didn't enjoy every moment I could steal from him.

As we walked through the doors I looked around taking in the sight of all the decorations, even with how empty it was the room felt so full of joy. Felix of course kept the same stoic expression as he always did but I like to think he enjoyed the scenery as well.

We took our seats at the end of the table sitting across from each other as we had our breakfast.

“So (y/n) what are you doing here on holiday if you don’t mind me asking?” he questioned finally breaking the silence.

“And what if I do?” I replied teasing him a bit.

He raised a bored brow, but I could tell he was a bit taken back by my response.

“You’re not here to cause trouble I hope.” He was already on to me, I had to think quick.

“Who? Me?” I asked looking around. “Felix please I am the back bone of this house, I would never.” I smirked even though it was a very obvious lie. He rolled his eyes at the “back bone of slytherin” however he was amused to say the least.

“Well that certainly is a shame.” he started before taking a sip of his tea. “Because if your offer still stands, I say we make this break interesting for once.”

I didn't know what to say, was this all a trap to get me to reveal my plans? He was prefect after all, was he really willing to get in trouble? But all my mind could really focus on was the fact he even remembered my offer.

“Well (y/n), what will it be?”

What came over me I don’t know, maybe it was the look in his eyes. A mischievous glint I had never seen in him before, maybe my curiosity got the better of me. Or maybe it was that skip of my heart that made the decision for me.

“Alright Rosier, let’s do it.” I grinned going against all better judgement I agreed extending my hand to seal the deal.

As he grabbed my hand he pulled me closer to him, leaning across the table, “I must warn you if we’re going to do something this reckless we do it my way. I won’t have us getting caught.” I could only nodded in agreement as words were not even an option in this moment, he finally realized the position we were in and let me go. Though a small part of my wished he hadn’t.

He went back to his tea focusing rather hard on it trying to hide the ever so slight blush forming. I couldn't quite wrap my head around what had just happened but I had a feeling I wasn't going to be able to stop thinking about it any time soon.

It wasn't long before we were both finished and ready to head out deciding to head to the library to read up on some information that could help us in our adventure. As we were walking I forced him to take a slight detour stopping by the courtyard to look out at the frosty morning. I let out a happy sigh watching as my breath came out in a cloud. The air was bitter and I definitely wasn't dressed for such cold weather but I had never been so happy to shiver. Seeing the ground covered in a beautiful sheet of white as even more spilled from the sky almost made me forget about everything else going on around me. I walked out looking up at sky trying to catch a snow flake on my tongue.

“(y/n) get back here ! It’s freezing, you're going to get sick !” I heard Felix call after me but it was like it really just went in one ear and out the other. Little did I know how intently he was watching me, I didn't even think of how silly I probably looked but in that moment I couldn't care less. Twirling around in the snow I become almost lost in my own little world and didn't even notice when Felix had come up behind me.

I jumped as I was snapped back to reality feeling something rather warm wrap around me. Looking down I saw a scarf now resting on my shoulders. I quickly turned around staring up at Felix who was now standing right in front of me, snow now starting to cover us both. My (e/c) eyes met his brown ones and the heat immediately began to rise to my already rosy cheeks. I tried taking the scarf off but he placed his hands on mine to stop me, re wrapping it before his hand moved to my cheek. His hands felt so warm even out in the freezing cold.

“You’ll get cold.” I said averting my gaze trying to protest.

“I’m not the one shivering.” he smiled as I felt his hand move from my cheek to brush a fallen strand of (h/c) hair behind my ear. Little did I know this wasn't the first time he had done this.

I had no idea how to respond, it seemed like he never failed to make me speechless, but this? This was a side of him that I didn't even know existed. How did the point obsessed prefect become so.....sweet? As I looked up at him I smiled gently cupping his hands in mine, raising them to my lips blowing out a bit of warm air.

“I will shiver in this cold happily if it means I get to stand here next to you.” staring up at him I was glad to know I was no longer the only one blushing.

“Lets head inside before we catch our death out here.” he said before placing a gentle kiss on my forehead, I could feel a smile form onto his lips as I intertwined his hand with mine.

These were going to be an interesting two weeks.

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are-you-jungood · 5 years ago

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Hoodie Chapter 2

Shownu X Reader

Author’s Note:

Ya’ll can re-blog, just please don’t re-post somewhere else! If you do, at least credit me (please and thank you)!

Brief recap:

Putting your sandwich down, you fish the tomato off of your shirt only to be greeted with a giant red and yellow stain. Knowing full well no dry napkin would fix the damage that had been done here, you sprinted to the nearest bathroom, making sure the few people who were still in the office weren’t looking as you did so. Once in the restroom, you took the shirt off, leaving you in a tank top, and sat about scrubbing that disgustingly yellow stain into oblivion. Just as you were squeezing out the last bits of water from your shirt, you heard the door swing open and slam shut with a lock.

Whirling around to see what was going on, you came face to face with someone you knew all too well.

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“Hyunwoo...” you breathed out, not totally sure if who you were seeing was real.

You gave him a quick once over, not totally displeased with what you were seeing. He still had that same handsome face of his, but his muscles had definitely gotten bigger since the last time you saw him. They were practically bulging out of his suit jacket. Not that you were paying attention. As you continued to look at him, you suddenly remembered where you were.

“Uh... why are you in the women’s restroom?”

He glanced quickly at you and then away as his face flushed a little. He put his hand up to rub the back of his head nervously and replied, “Well... this is actually the men’s bathroom, so... do you think you can put your shirt on first? It’s a little... distracting?”

Your face flushed with horror as you realized that in your haste to get that stain out of your shirt you ran to the nearest bathroom, which happened to be the men’s. Not only were you in the men’s restroom, you were in the men’s restroom, practically topless, and locked in with your ex-boyfriend from college.

Scrambling to put your soaking wet shirt on, you turned your back to Hyunwoo.

“So...uh... How have you been?” he asked so awkwardly while staring up at the ceiling tiles that you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of that old fondness light up in you again. You laughed and replied, “Well, I’ve been better. I’m not normally in the habit of getting locked in the men’s restroom with my exes.”

“Right...”

Buttoning the last button on your shirt, you turned back towards Hyunwoo and asked in a laughing tone, “So, what brings you here?”

He finally drug his eyes away from the ceiling long enough to look you in the eyes.

“Well, today’s my first day here as a statistics analyst. I was being given a tour by our manager when this one lady in the accounting office started feeling up my biceps, so I ran in here to get away for a bit.”

“Ah, I see you met Linda.”

At this, our eyes met and we couldn’t help but let out a laugh.

“Now that I’ve told mine, why don’t you tell yours. Why are you in the men’s restroom dressed like that?”

“Well, me and a pastrami sandwich had a fight and the sandwich won, so I went to clean my shirt and didn’t realize I was in the men’s room until you showed up.”

“Well, I’m glad it was me and not some random guy.”

Realizing what his declaration sounded like, his face turned a slight shade of pink that you couldn’t help but find slightly endearing as he tried to backtrack his previous statement.

“I’m glad it was you too, Hyun. I know things didn’t end amicably between us back then, but I wanted to let you know that I don’t blame you for how things ended, we just weren’t ready for that kind of commitment. I hope we can be kind to each other from now on.”

“I agree.”

He looked at you with an expression you couldn’t quite decipher before his usual relaxed smile made a reappearance on his face.

“Do you think part of that kindness can include you saving me from Linda next time, too? I’m not sure I can escape every time without your help.”

You smiled and nodded your head as you made your way to the door to leave. As you reached for the handle, Hyunwoo gently grabbed your arm and turned you around. Your pulse immediately sped up at the contact and you couldn’t help but have a flashback to the last time he touched you like this (although that was in a much different context).

He looked nervously at the ground before speaking.

“About your shirt... I remember how much you hate not looking your best in public, so why don’t you let me let you borrow one of the extra dress shirts I brought with me?”

You blink in slight surprise, taken aback by his offer. Most of your exes weren’t this sweet to you after a break up, but this is Hyunwoo we’re talking about (and it has been years).

“I mean... Sure, yeah, I’d appreciate it a lot.”

He smiled, took off his jacket, and handed it to you. Your mind was racing as you tried to tell yourself that this was a perfectly normal situation to be in. That Hyunwoo was only doing this because he was a gentleman and not because he had any lingering feelings or ulterior motives (right?).

“I figured you could use it to cover up while you follow me to my desk. I don’t really want to leave you here.”

He gestured to the not so clean men’s bathroom and looked at you expectantly. You shrugged on his jacket, and tried oh so hard not to think about how good the cologne that clung to it smelled and how it brought back a flood of memories from the past you’ve tried to move on from.

You trailed behind Hyunwoo as he led you to his desk in a dank corner of the Analytics department (entry-level positions are never glamorous). As he pulled open the bottom drawer of his desk, you could see at least three identical shirts stacked one on top of the other inside. He grabbed one and handed it to you.

He noticed where you were looking and explained, “I keep my backup shirts in here just in case I sweat through the one I’m wearing.”

You laughed a little and said fondly, “You haven’t changed a bit, Hyun. I remember when you would keep an extra shirt in your car just in case you were too sweaty after your shift at work. It always made laundry day interesting.”

That same odd expression from before flitted across his face before he smiled and said, “Yeah, I still do that, actually. It comes in handy sometimes, but it is a pain in the butt having to wash all of my clothes so much.”

You smiled at that, oddly finding that you didn’t totally want this conversation to end. However, you happened to glance at the clock on the wall and discovered you only had a few minutes left before your lunch break was over. You took Hyunwoo’s jacket from your shoulders and handed it back to him. He laid it over his desk chair and turned to you.

“Well, thank you for the back up shirt. I’ll bring it back to you tomorrow.”

He smiled shyly and said okay. With this, you walked away and made a b-line for the women’s restroom. You flung yourself into a stall, and tried to catch your breath as tears suddenly threatened to spill from your eyes. God, you thought you were over this man, so why do you feel this way seeing him like this? Why does it hurt so much to see him doing this well. Why does he have to be so damn sweet? This shouldn’t be happening.

In an attempt to clear your head, you focused on unbuttoning your stained, half-dried shirt. You took it off and began buttoning Hyunwoo’s slightly wrinkled, but clean, shirt up. You tucked the bottom of it into your skirt and rolled up the cuffs to make it seem like it’s not your built ex-boyfriends shirt. After you splashing a little water on your face and collecting your thoughts, you walked back out of the restroom and headed straight to your desk to dump your sandwich in the trash and curse it for putting you in this situation.

You were dead tired from throwing yourself into your work by the time Minhyuk started packing up to leave.

“Are you coming out drinking with us tonight?”

You were half tempted to decline because of how exhausted you were, but you figured one beer wouldn’t hurt too much.

“Sure! Who else is going?”

“Hoseok, Kihyun Yoo and Hyungwon Chae from marketing, Jooheon Lee and Changkyun Im from the Analytics department. A bunch of girls from accounting are tagging along as well.”

This was great news! These boys knew how to have fun, so you were sure to get your mind off of things for a while. You just had to get this last report done and you were free for the evening.

“Okay, I’ll meet you guys there. I have a few things I need to finish up before I leave for the day.”

“Okay, but don’t take too long. Last person there has to buy everyone a round of shots!”

With that, Minhyuk wiggle danced his way out of the office, singing to himself on the way. You had a feeling tonight was going to be interesting, but nothing could’ve prepared you for what was going to happen next.

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