#people believe that the bashing i got from that tweet is why i left. it wasnt but its funny when ppl saay it is :)
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what if i got a second dog and named it phan and posted a picture of her on twitter with the caption "phan is real" and tagged dan and phil do you think that would go well on twitter :)
#im thinking of ideas to be annoying on twitter (despite no longer being on there)#for those inundated with yonpote lore: one of the last things i posted was a post calling phil a bottom#people believe that the bashing i got from that tweet is why i left. it wasnt but its funny when ppl saay it is :)#what else would annoy twitter..... what if i got a boat and named her phan and took her out to sea#and captioned a photo of my boat with 'i ship phan' and tagged dnp
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Thinking about my desire for a mistaken identity time travel fic where Obito and Sasuke get tossed into the warring states, but bc Sasuke looks like an Izuna clone and Obito for some reason gets the wild hair look back, they keep being mistaken for Madara and Izuna.
Notably, they keep being mistaken for Madara and Izuna as they are in the middle of attempting to beat the ever-loving shit out of eachother.
And because Obito likes causing problems for Madara and Sasuke shrimply does not give a fuck and might even appreciate the fake identity alibi, they do nothing to actually deny the mistaken identity. Obito actually encourages it, usually by loudly agreeing with whoever shouts "omg its Uchiha Madara" as he lights shit on fire.
Anything to cause the real Madara more problem, right? Karma, bitch aa
He actually wants to cut his hair short again but the temptation of getting to continue to ruin Madara's reputation is too good, so he doesnt
ANYWAYS. Thinking about all of the above again w the context of my "Kakashi is related to and bears a resemblance to Tobirama" agenda thats been steadily growing in like. Actually, I think almost every Kakashi fic Ive written so far (oops)
Maybe I want Kakashi in this now. Maybe I'm also thinking about Tenzo, who got the same "oh for some strange reason my hair is longer now" treatment as Obito and with the Mokuton, can now be mistake as Hashirama by those who have never seen him. Or even people who have seen him but logically assume he's wearing a henge.
There's only one known man with the power of Mokuton-- why would the ever believe it wasn't Hashirama (unless they were close enough to the man to truly doubt it on a personal level)
I have no real ideas for an overarching plot, but like. Obito, Sasuke, Kakashi and Tenzo mistaken identity time travel my beloved,,
Kakashi and Tenzo traveled + landed together and Obito and Sasuke did the same so neither group is aware of the other
(Kakashi and Obito eventually figure it out bc of the shared eye connection I think)
But in the mean time they actually keep managing to avoid each other bc they'll hear rumors ab "Uchiha Madara" being spotted in the town over (Obito continues to be very loud about it very on purpose) and then avoid going there, while Sasuke hears the same, figures its Obito, and sprints over to try and bash his face in
Obito finally eventually gets cornered by Kakashi, Tenzo, and Sasuke and gets his shit rocked fr fr send tweet
Sasuke and Kakashi bonding moment(s) where we tackle the uhh. Everything. Of canon. And Sasuke gives Kakashi a crumb of respect back or smthn
Idk but I just want to see Sasuke call him sensei, don't ask me how we'd get there
Meanwhile when they're finally like, exposed or whatever there's just SUCH a mess there to be had
I'm choosing Uchiha Hikaku as my first contact bc I love him dearly and think he serves as good middleground between ranks of importance and relevance
So like. Picture this.
You are Hikaku. You're sent out to investigate some rumors about Madara and Izuna fucking shit up and causing a general mess some ways away. A henge, a slander campaign, the real Madara-sama is sure.
You get there and find 3 people fighting.
(Obito, Kakashi and Tenzo's first interaction. It's tense. They may all come from the final battle, after Obito changed his mind, but there were a lot of things left unsaid and also they all probably just wanna beat the shit out of eachother anyways. Things happen, things are said, a fight is had)
Two of them bear a passing resemblance to Madara and Tobirama respectively, and the 3rd has the look of a Senju to him.
Ok. So, Senju slander campaign? Gone... wrong, he'd assume by the fact that they were all fighting.
You then recognize that the fake Madara has mismatched eyes (!!!! What the fuck !!! Culturally significant thing there !! Was he born like that? Was it a transplant?)
And the fake Tobirama(?) has a whole stolen sharingan he seems to be ACTIVLEY using (WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!! SOUND THE ALARMS!!!!! BLOODLINE THIEF ALERT !!!!!!!!)
You debate between just watching or entering the fight, but then the fake Tobirama makes some sort of reference to his sharingan eye belonging to the fake Madara's.
All thoughts come to a screeching halt.
Ok. So. Gonna get involved now.
There's a clear side here (Uchiha vs potential Senju) Hikaku can not leave his clanmate to die, and he doesn't yet know how he might have been involved in the slander campaign so it's honestly best to put this guy in his pocket and bring him back to Madara anyways
So Hikaku enters the battle, everyone makes appropriate shocked pikachu faces bc no one noticed him and aw shit it's gonna get more complicated, cool, awesome, great
(Also note; Hikaku became the eventual Uchiha head after Madara's defection so there's also a "oh shit no way" reaction from Obito specifically who knows this information. And also maybe Kakashi who I imagine knows a lot of Konoha's history and politics)
Battle continues, Tenzo uses Mokuton, Hikaku gets appropriately freaked the FUCK out at the idea of another mokuton user
Then Sasuke comes crashing out of nowhere , yay !!!
(Kakashi and Tenzo, who did not know Sasuke was here yet and are only seeing him for the first time, make more surprised pikachu faces)
Sasuke, who... possibly knew Kakashi and Tenzo were around and may have been avoiding them, wanting to signal that for now at least they were all on the same side (against Obito) nods to Kakashi specifically and gives a tense and sort of stilted, "sensei."
SO. HIKAKU IS KIND OF GOING THROUGH IT OVER HERE NOW.
Sasuke is a dead fucking wringer for Izuna in the way that only a direct relation can be. I'm talking they could absoloutley pass for twins kind of relation. Worst of all, they look around the same age (Sasuke is only a few years younger)
Hikaku is no longer fighting with a strange Uchiha against Senju agents he's now fighting with an Uchiha against another Uchiha (who's a dead wringer for his clan heir !!!!) He does not know who to believe or what side to exist on.
(Had this false Izuna called the fake Tobirama sensei? Oh god—)
Things happen, whether they lose or escape I don't know but it ends with an incredibly confused and concerned Hikaku returning to the Uchiha clan compound with tales of bloodline theft, another mokuton user, and horrifically— A possible sibling, lost and raised by the senju in secret.
Yeah. So. Madara won't react well to that. Madara won't react well to that at all.
(Izuna won't either, in the slightest. Does... does he have a twin...? Did he have a twin once, lost too early for their parents to bear to tell them...?)
It's incredibly hard for the Senju to deny any involvement when Hikaku has sharingan perfect memories to share of the fake-Izuna (Sasuke, they had called him Sasuke) standing side by side with a man who resembles Tobirama and another who is very fucking clearly using Mokuton. And that's "very fucking clearly using mokuton" seen by someone who has SEEN mokuton used in battle. Multiple times. He will not mistake it for anything else.
Anyways oops sorry for creating a horrible political scandal and also probably making the Uchiha/Senju wore like 10 times more charged teehee </3
(Obito doesn't give a shit. Sasuke swings violently between caring both too little and too much depending on the hour of the day and how the issue is framed. Kakashi and Tenzo are.... distracted. And undecided. And care about this issue from an "aw shit but Konoha wait no—" view point)
Ummmmm anyways endgame Konoha is made early (but possibly with a bit more blood involved) and Hikaku is made Hokage bc I fucking love Hikaku, yay the end !!!
#birds fic talk#had to link to the vault fic chapter instead of the actual post bc I cant fucking find it#thanks tumblr#naruto au#obito uchiha#uchiha obito#sasuke uchiha#uchiha sasuke#hatake kakashi#kakashi hatake#madara uchiha#uchiha madara#izuna uchiha#uchiha izuna#uchiha hikaku#hikaku uchiha#kakashi#time travel#tenzo#tenzo yamato#yamato tenzo#sasuke#obito
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PURE [3] - Corpse Husband x Fem! Reader
A/N: Over 1 thousand notes. You guys are insane. I can’t see any other explanation.
Thank you so much for all the love and support under the previous parts, all those comments just absolutely made my day! I would never expect this story to receive such a positive feedback, which I’m extremely grateful for!
Anyway, I decided to add some additional plot to this story - mainly, the sudden criticism and hate directed on Y/N after the last Among Us stream. I thought it would make things more interesting.
That being said, I hope you enjoy the third part ^^
part 1
part 2
part 4
part 5
PURE [3]
Y/N stared at her phone screen, reading through the latest tweets of her friends inviting their fans to watch their streams. It was Thursday evening and just as it was planned, everyone was getting ready for another game of Among Us. Just as she would do if it wasn’t for all those comments...
The last stream caused sudden, unexpected amounts of attention on her social media. She probably shouldn’t be that surprised by it, given the fact that by appearing in Sean’s and Felix’s videos she wasn’t all that strange to their fans. But people who watched Rae, Toast, or Corpse’s streams didn’t know her. And apparently, some of them weren’t that happy to see a new face among the group of well-known gamers.
She always tried to avoid the unnecessary spotlight as much as she could, preferring to stay hidden somewhere behind other, much more popular streamers. And it never bothered her. She was never one to enjoy too much attention anyway.
That’s why when she discovered how upset, or even angry, some people were when she played with all those famous streamers, she was quite shocked, to say the least.
Like all those comments under Poki’s tweet, in which she mentioned who’s gonna be playing this time...
“Duh, why’s that Y/N chick supposed to play with them again? There are at least hundreds of other, much more popular streamers I can think of who would be better than her.”
“Who the fuck is she anyway? Why’s she there?”
“lmao, some random girl who got lucky enough to know jacksepticeye. Don’t get why she’s playing with them though.”
“NOT HER AGAIN. I SWEAR TO GOD SHE WAS SO FUCKING ANNOYING LAST TIME”
Sure, she wasn’t as famous as Felix, or Sean, or Rae, or anyone else for that matter. Her audience wasn’t very small, but it was nothing compared to the number of fans other YouTubers had. It was understandable that most people didn’t know who she was, and didn’t understand why she was there in the first place.
She was, in fact, just some random girl who was lucky to have Sean as her friend. But in a group of such great and well-known streamers, she definitely stood out like a sore thumb.
Y/N almost jumped in her seat when her phone beeped with a new message, Sean’s nickname showing up at the top of her screen.
Jackaboy: We’re starting in a few kiddo
Jackaboy: But join the call now so we can both make fun of Felix
After the last game, she was so excited and couldn’t wait for this evening. She looked forward to cooperating with Sykkuno again, to arguing with Toast, to laughing with Sean and Felix, to murdering other people with Corpse... Yet now, all this excitement seemed to vanish just like the mood to play, let alone talk with other people. They would surely see right through her and try to make her spill the beans, which would ruin the stream. And the last thing she wanted was to ruin their game.
Jackaboy: You there Y/N??
She sighed, thinking of some believable excuse that wouldn’t arouse suspicion, but her mind was flooded with all those comments and DMs she received over those past days, which expressed nothing but hatred towards her.
Y/N: I’m really sorry Sean, but I don’t think I will be joining you today... I don’t feel very well.
She waited for Sean’s reply impatiently, expecting him to send her some angry emoji or tell her to move her ass and join the discord call. What she didn’t expect though, was that he would facetime her.
Her first instinct was to throw her phone across the room as if it would make Sean stop calling. He wouldn’t stop unless she’d tell him the truth.
So she cleared her throat and plastered the widest smile on her face, before answering his call.
“Alright, what is going on?” Sean asked right away, staring at her with his brows furrowed. He wasn’t in his recording room, but in his kitchen, which meant that he left his stream to call her. “And please don’t tell me you’re sick cause I won’t believe it anyway. And neither will Pewds.”
“I’m tired, Sean... I was working late again and I really need to rest.” she lied, trying to keep her voice steady and calm. She really didn’t want Sean to interrogate her now, not when his fans were waiting for him. “I’m sure you’ll find someone else though. Please tell the guys that I’m sorry”
“Y/N, c’mon, cut this bullshit. What’s wrong?” he asked softly, moving his phone closer to his face. “You know you’re a terrible liar, just tell me what happened. If you don’t wanna play then neither do I.”
“Sean, please don’t do it” she shook her head with a sigh. “Your fans are waiting for you, I’ll be fine.”
“Well they’re waiting for you too you dummy, I already promised them you’ll be playing with us tonight” he stated matter of factly, rolling his eyes. Y/N remained silent for a moment, and Sean suddenly furrowed his brows, narrowing his eyes at her in a suspicious look. “Did someone tell you something rude last time we played? Who and what?”
“What? No, Sean, oh my God. Everyone was super nice, it has nothing to do with the last stream... not with you guys, at least.” she mumbled under her breath, dropping her eyes from Sean’s confused face.
“What do you mean not with you guys? Y/N, what the hell happened?” he demanded, slowly getting more and more worried. She wouldn’t tell him though, too scared that Sean would just laugh it off, even though he also sometimes had problems with dealing with hate. And just as if he was reading her mind, Sean sighed, his face softening in a sad smile. “You’ve read the comments, didn’t you?”
She felt so stupid for being so easily offended by comments of some random people on the Internet, that she just nodded her head meekly, still looking anywhere but at the man.
“Look kiddo... I’m not gonna tell you to get yourself together and just ignore them, cause it won’t help, and I know cause I’ve been there. Hell, I’m still there.” he chuckled to himself and continued “Anyway, you really shouldn’t be worrying yourself about people who don’t even know you. They don’t know you, Y/N, why would some complete stranger’s opinion matter to you?”
“They said I shouldn’t be playing with you guys... that I’m nothing but a burden and you should be playing with someone who’s at least recognizable.”
“Well excuse me Miss, last time I checked I could choose who the fuck I want to play with.” Sean scoffed, clearly irritated by such comments “You’re one of my best friends Y/N and I don’t give a fuck what some haters say. And neither should you.”
“Maybe you should just invite someone else... It would make everyone happy.” she muttered almost inaudibly, but Sean almost barked at her when he heard her words.
“I told you to cut that bullshit, Y/N! Everyone couldn’t wait for this game and now you wanna back out? C’mon, kid. Do you have any idea how heartbroken Sykkuno’s gonna be? When you left so quickly last time, he kept complaining that he has no one to team up with.” she couldn’t help but smile at that, letting out a tiny giggle. “And Corpse? Have you even seen his last tweet?”
“What? No, I- I don’t follow him...” she said, wondering what Sean was talking about. She quickly searched for Corpse on Twitter, still being on facetime with Sean, and her heart almost dropped when she saw the last tweet.
@.Corpse_Husband Really excited for tonight’s Among Us stream, 8PM PST.
Jacksepticeye
Valkyrae
Pewdiepie
Pokimane
Sykkuno
Disguised Toast
Logic
Mr Beast
and, hopefully, my partner in crime - Little Y/N
:)
She stared at the screen with her eyes widened, and her lips corners curling up in a small, bashful smile. It was so nice of Corpse to mention her as well, especially with the nickname that he seemed to like so much since their last game.
“God, if you could see yourself right now. How’s it that my pep talk didn’t do shit, but Corpse’s tweet magically made you smile, ugh.” Sean reminded her of his presence, and she quickly returned to the call, trying to somehow control her burning cheeks.
“It’s not like that, Sean, I really appreciate that you’re trying to cheer me up... I just didn’t expect your friends to like me...” she admitted quietly, and if Sean could, he would probably strangle her at that moment.
“I JUST TOLD YOU THAT SYKKUNO KEPT BUGGING ME ABOUT YOU FOR TWO FUCKING HOURS. YOU THINK HE WOULD TALK ABOUT YOU IF HE DIDN’T LIKE YOU?!”
“I just... what if they’re just being nice, but they don’t actually want me to play with them?”
“I’m done.” Sean groaned, shaking his head furiously. “Alright, here’s what you’re gonna do. You stay away from your phone, join the discord call, say hi to everyone, and we’re all gonna have fun, okay? If not, Pewds is gonna murder you, cause he was already growing impatient even before I called you.”
“I’m still not sure if that’s a good idea, Sean...”
“But I am sure, Y/N! Now come on, we’re playing in five. I’m telling everyone you’re joining as well.”
And before she could even reply, he hung up. Y/N groaned, rushing to her computer to turn it on. Now it would just be plain rude not to join the game, especially after Sean wasted his time talking with her, while he should be talking to his fans. Just as he suggested, she kept her phone far away from her desk, deciding to stay away from Twitter and all those comments for a bit. Maybe it would help her clear her mind and at least try to have some fun.
An invite to the group call was already waiting for her, along with a message from Sean with a code to the game. Y/N put her headphones on before joining the call and quickly typing in the code.
“... so let me repeat myself. I ALWAYS sound guilty, no matter what. Please, guys, don’t vote me out!”
Y/N shook her head with a smile on her lips when the first thing she heard after joining the call was Felix’s pleading voice. Clearly, he was already trying to save his own ass even before the game began.
Y/N could hear Sean’s loud voice as he commented on Felix’s plea with some snarky remark, later also catching the sounds of Rae’s laughter. Everyone was already there, they’ve been clearly waiting for her to join.
“Hey, look who’s finally here! Hi Y/N!” Poki noticed her presence first.
“Hello everyone” Y/N said, as shy and quiet as usual.
“Oh, Y/N! It’s so great to see you again, I was worried you weren’t joining us tonight” Sykkuno said, a pout clear in his voice.
“WELL ABOUT DAMN TIME” Felix all but yelled, making her roll her eyes with a smile. “What did I tell you about being late?!”
“Give her a break Felix, her mic wasn’t working again... Luckily, I was there to save the damsel in distress” Sean said, and even though she couldn’t see him, Y/N was almost certain that he was smirking.
“Yeah, I’m really sorry guys to have kept you waiting so long...” Y/N said, feeling genuinely bad. Maybe Sean was right after all? They could have just invited someone else, and yet they decided to wait for her.
“It’s okay, you’re here now and it’s all that matters” a deep voice sounded out, and whether she liked it or not, Y/N grinned like an idiot with a blush rising up her cheeks.
“Shit, here we go again...” Felix sighed, making everyone else laugh. Y/N bit at her lower lip, feeling her heart thump in her chest as she felt a sudden wave of courage, deciding to speak up despite her initial shyness:
“Well... I couldn’t just leave my partner in crime alone, right?” she asked, and she could swear she heard Corpse stutter as if he completely didn’t expect her to say that.
“Ah yes, after all, killing wouldn’t be the same without her, right Corpse?” Toast teased, repeating Corpse’s words from the last stream. Everyone in the call laughed, Y/N included. She couldn’t stop herself from smiling, even though just mere minutes ago she was on the verge of crying. “It’s good to have you here, Y/N/N. Maybe I’ll actually get a chance to finally kill you this time.”
“Jesus Christ, Toast. You sound like a psychopath. Hey, I’m happy you’re here, lemme stab you in the back, please?” someone whose nickname was MrBeast spoke up with a chuckle, before directing his next words to Y/N “I believe we haven’t played together before, I’m Mr Beast, it’s really nice to meet you Y/N”
“Yeah, pleased to meet you!” another player, Logic, spoke up “I also didn’t have a chance to play with you yet, but I’ve seen Sean’s last stream... Let me just say, that Toast murder was absolutely perfect!”
“Wow. And here I almost managed to block it out. I’m fucking traumatized Y/N, you should be ashamed of yourself” Toast scoffed over Felix’s laughter.
“You should be proud of yourself!” Sean interfered “Just so you know lads, Y/N may seem like a little angel, but she’s a little demon. You’ve been warned.”
“Yeah, she’ll charm you with her voice only to snap your neck next second.” Felix scoffed.
“Just like she did with Corpse!”
“Charm?!” Y/N gasped, her cheeks burning.
“I don’t recall Y/N killing me...” Corpse said in his low voice.
“I love how that’s the only thing he denied” Poki pointed out in a teasing voice, which only made Y/N sink further into her chair.
“Can we please start the game now?” she asked in a pleading voice, hoping that everyone would stop making fun of Corpse and her. She could only imagine how uncomfortable he felt, for some reason being the target of their jokes... They must’ve made him feel awkward, right?
“Jack, did you tell Y/N how we’re playing tonight?” Sykkuno asked, and she sighed in relief that they dropped the jokes.
“Oh, right! So there’s this mod called proximity chat, where we’re able to hear each other as we pass by another person, and it seems quite fun so that’s what we decided to try out tonight.” Sean explained to Y/N, and before she could ask another question, he added “I’ve just sent you the link, it’ll take a minute to install it.”
“Oh, okay. Thank you Sean” Y/N said, before downloading the mod and quickly installing it. When everything was set and ready, she pulled up Among Us again and typed in the code, and the game finally began.
“Woah”
“Holy shit!”
“Guys this is so cool!” Sykkuno exclaimed, his voice so happy and excited that Y/N couldn’t help but giggle.
“Okay, I’m scared now. I feel like encounters with Imposter are just gonna be perfectly cut screams” Felix chuckled, as they left the dropship and moved down the map. That’s when Y/N gasped in surprise, upon seeing the locations completely different than those she was used to.
“Wait- is that a different map?” she asked through her mic, hearing Toast’s distanced, devilish laugh. There was only Rae and Sykkuno beside her, as everyone else have already split up to do their tasks.
“Oh yeah, that’s Polus, it’s much more fun than the one we were playing in last time.” Rae explained happily and Y/N groaned. She didn’t know that map.
“Great. I don’t even know how am I supposed to do tasks in here...”
“Oh, it’s not that hard. They’re in most cases similar to those you already know, they only look a little bit different.” Sykkuno said in his kind voice, before asking “Do you want to team up again, Y/N?”
“I thought you would never ask Sykkuno” Rae chuckled under her breath.
“Yeah, that would be great! I need someone to show me around” she smiled. The trio finally moved from their spot beside the dropship and went to the left where, as Y/N later realized, was electrical. She quickly did her task in there, being under the watchful eyes of both Sykkuno and Rae.
Before the latter could do his own task, the first body was reported.
“The body is in the lab” Felix said, and Y/N couldn’t help but smirk as she saw that it was Toast who was murdered first. One less person to accuse her or try to frame her, if he was the Imposter.
“I just ran towards the lab from the left side, I only saw Poki on my way there” Corpse said right away, and the accused girl was quick to try and defend herself:
“Okay, I wasn’t in the lab, I was doing that engines task which is next to the lab.”
“Did you see someone else there?” Jack questioned.
“Nope, just me and the engines.”
“Okay. Sykkuno, where are you?” the lime astronaut was next on Jack’s list of suspects, which made Sykkuno groan.
“Why do you sound so suspicious right away?” he asked in disbelief, causing the rest to giggle “I was with Y/N and Rae all this time, we were all doing our tasks in electrical.”
“Is that true Y/N?”
“Yes Sean, that is true” she rolled her eyes with a laugh “I don’t even know this map, I have to stick with someone so I don’t end up like Toast.”
“Alright, what about rest? Logic? I think I saw you in admin but then you disappeared somewhere.” Felix said.
“Yeah I’m with Mr Beast in the office”
“That’s right” Mr Beast confirmed, which didn’t bring anything new to the investigation, so everyone decided to skip.
“Wo- Okay where are we now?” Y/N asked in surprise, when the new round began in some completely new place Sykkuno didn’t manage to show her yet. She could hear as Corpse laughed at her shocked voice, which made her smile widely.
“Yeah, I’m also not used to this new map yet” he admitted, his black astronaut walking up to her white one “Hey, wanna see something cool?”
“Sure!”
-
*Meanwhile Sykkuno*
“Okay this is bad guys, we lost Y/N” Sykkuno said to his mic, running around the map to find the girl he was earlier teamed up with. “I thought she followed us when the new round began, but she must’ve gone the other way... What if she’s dead already? Not good, not good...”
-
"Woah! This looks amazing! Is there some task here as well?”
“Yes, there’s temperature recording right here” Corpse said, standing by the lava pit, watching as Y/N’s character ran back and forth over the pool of lava.
“I wonder if you could jump into it. What do you think, Corpse?” she asked curiously, standing close to the edge.
“Not that I’m aware of it...” he mumbled coming closer to the edge as well “Why would you jump into it?” he asked with a half-smile on his face.
“So Felix can’t stab me in the back.” she whispered, even though there was no one around them.
“You think it’s him?” Corpse mirrored her voice, and she hummed in response “Why?”
“He’s constantly suspicious of everyone, last time we played he also kept interrogating us all, without even telling his own location.” she stated as if it was very obvious. Corpse couldn’t help but let out a laugh “What? Why are you laughing at me?”
“Not at you, Y/N. I’m just impressed by your investigation skills” he admitted “In that case, we better both jump in. Felix likes to frame other people.”
“You wanna jump into the lava with me?”
“Sure I do.”
“There you are!” Sykkuno’s lime astronaut came out of nowhere, followed by Mr Beast. Two of them walked up to Y/N and Corpse, and before the latter could even say anything, Mr Beast snapped Y/N’s neck.
“WAIT, NO-”
“OH GOD, OH GOD” Sykkuno yelled in panic.
“KILL HIM CORPSE” Mr Beast screamed, frantically running around.
-
“What the heck?” Y/N stared at her screen in shock, her dead body laying over the lava pit. Mr Beast had already fled to the left, leaving her, Sykkuno and Corpse standing between two of them. None of them said anything for a moment before the black astronaut finally spoke up.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N” he kept repeating, regret clear in his voice. “And Sykkuno, I- I can’t even express how-”
He was cut off by Felix’s scream, who reported the bodies before Corpse could kill him as well.
“IT’S CORPSE ALRIGHT” Felix yelled right away “HE’S STANDING OVER Y/N AND SYKKUNO, HE HAS THEIR BLOOD ON HIS HANDS”
“That is- I did not kill them” Corpse replied, calm as ever, as opposed to his frantic apologies.
“Then why were you standing there?! Without reporting the bodies?!”
“I was... mourning their death.” he replied, which caused the whole group to burst out laughing. “Seriously guys, you think I would murder Sykkuno? And Y/N? I would never even think of hurting them.”
“The simp is strong, we get it, but it doesn’t really save your situation” Rae laughed.
“Let’s kick him out guys, he can’t even defend himself” Sean chuckled, and everyone else didn’t need to be told twice. Soon enough, Y/N watched as Corpse’s black astronaut was thrown into the lava pit... Oh, the irony...
The game continued with her wandering around the map, doing the rest of her tasks to at least support somehow her fellow crewmates. She stumbled upon Corpse’s ghost at some point and laughed wholeheartedly when he started circling her little character in something she read as an attempt to apologize.
A little while later another body was reported, this time it was Felix who lost his life. Y/N didn’t really focus on the conversation this time, glancing at her phone instead. There was this urge to reach for it and check how people reacted to her joining the game, but she kept repeating Sean’s words in her head. There was no point in worrying about the opinion of somebody who doesn’t even know her... or at least that’s what she tried to convince herself to think.
Her attention was brought back to the game when she heard the sound of a new message from someone who was also dead. She clicked on the chat, seeing that it was one of the Impostors.
Corpse: :(
Corpse: I’m sorry
Y/N thought it was sweet of him to apologize for it, even though it was his main goal to murder everyone after all. She believed he was genuinely sorry for it, just like she was each time she was an Impostor and had to kill somebody.
Sykkuno: Welcome to the afterlife, Corpse!
She laughed at Sykkuno’s constant happiness, which was evident even in his messages, before typing one as well:
Y/N: We’re all corpse here
Sykkuno: Oh, so it means we’re all really cool then ^^
Y/N: Fair point
Corpse: See Y/N
Corpse: I told you I would jump into the lava for you
Y/N: You didn’t exactly jump...
Corpse: :(
Y/N: But let’s say it counts as well :)
Corpse: :)
Before they knew, the voting ended. Mr Beast was thrown into the lava, which ultimately lead to the victory of crewmates. Y/N cheered happily, when the blue sign appeared on her screen, right above everyone else who was innocent.
“Yaaay, the first time I wasn’t killed in the first game!” Sean announced enthusiastically, his astronaut running around the dropship.
“Yeah, and the first time it went so fast...”
“Right? Corpse, I’m disappointed in you. What happened to the King of Impostors?” Rae asked.
“Well.. no matter how good you are, you can’t always win, right?” Corpse replied calmly.
“Hmm, you seemed kinda absent-minded during the game, though...” Poki suggested with a smirk hiding in her voice, and Rae was very quick to pick on it.
“Oh, you’ve noticed that too? Almost as if he was distracted by something”
“I don’t know what are you talking about” he chuckled nervously, and Y/N just sat in her chair confused about what was going on. “Anyway, who’s up for another round?”
“Yeah, I have an idea” Sean said, effectively shutting everyone up “What if we play something along the lines of hide and seek? Let’s have one impostor, and everyone else needs to get their tasks done before he finds them.”
“That is...” Felix took in a dramatic breath “THE BEST THING I’VE EVER HEARD ABOUT”
“Yeah, I think it will be fun” Sykkuno replied.
“It sounds really cool, but let’s maybe tell who’s the impostor? I think it would be more fair” Rae suggested.
“I think it’s a good idea” Sean concluded, before changing the settings for one impostor only. Y/N waited patiently for the game to begin, and when she saw that she was a crewmate again, she sighed in relief. Only to gasp in a panic a second later...
“It’s me.”
Everyone stumbled out of the dropship as Corpse admitted that he’s the impostor. It seemed that knowing exactly who can murder everyone made the whole game a little bit terrifying...
“I don’t know where the heck I’m going” Y/N mumbled to herself with a nervous laugh when instead of doing her tasks, she searched for the perfect place to hide. When she entered security, she spotted Mr Beast fixing the wires, so she decided to join him.
“OH SHIT- god damn it, you scared me to death!” he all but yelled when she appeared next to him, doing her tasks.
“Sorry” she giggled, quickly finishing the wires, before speeding out of the room. On her way to weapons, she stumbled across Felix’s dead body, and could hear some screaming in the background... but didn’t recognize who was murdered next.
Y/N managed to do most of her tasks without meeting Corpse, whom she hoped not to see probably for the first time since they played together. She was just leaving decontamination when she heard Sean’s panicked laughter:
“...tee, bitches love me?”
“Wrong.” Corpse’s voice almost made her squeak in surprise, only to really scream when he suddenly snapped Sean’s neck.
“Retreat, retreat!” Y/N laughed as she sped past oblivious Rae and Logic, Corpse hot on her tail. She quickly returned to the decontamination room, hoping to flee from her inevitable death, when Corpse’s black astronaut walked in, and the door closed.
“Please don’t kill me” she chuckled, even though there was no hope for her.
“Finish my lyrics, and I’ll let you live...” he began, and Y/N furrowed her brows in confusion “ I spilt wine...”
“Wait- what lyrics? You sing?” she asked, completely dumbfounded. Corpse was silent for a moment as if he didn’t understand her, before bursting out laughing “What’s so funny again? Corpse, come on!”
“Yes, Y/N, I do sing, I was actually hoping you’ve heard some of my songs...” he admitted, still chuckling to himself. She felt a blush rising up her cheeks.
“Oh- I- I didn’t, I-... but I will, okay? I’ll do it right away!” she promised, quickly jumping up to grab her phone and listen to Corpse’s song. She was genuinely shocked, she would never expect him to sing!
She unlocked her phone with a wide, somehow nervous smile on her face, which, however, dropped the moment she saw her notifications. Hundreds of notifications.
“You there, Y/N?” Corpse’s voice reached her after a moment, when she still didn’t say anything, just kept looking at her screen. “I hope my music isn’t so bad that you passed out from listening to it...”
She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes, her phone gripped tightly in her shaking hands.
“Um, Y/N?” his voice became more worried now “Is everything okay?”
Y/N cleared her throat and quickly wiped her eyes, closing them for a moment to steady her breathing.
“Yeah, all good Corpse” she forced herself to smile, so her voice wouldn’t sound weird. “Look, um, I need to leave, can you tell the others bye from me?”
“Is something wrong?” Corpse asked confused.
“No, of course not!” she laughed through her tears “Something just came up and I really need to leave.”
“You sure you’re-”
“Bye Corpse. It was nice playing with you.”
-
A/N: I hope you guys are not too disappointed in me... It didn’t turn out as I initially thought it would. Isn’t it too dramatic? And is this hate plot fine? Or is it not? What do guys you think?
TAG LIST IS CLOSED!
@slytherin-chan @pillowjj @afuckingunicornn @love-and-virtues @ignooynim @crapimahuman @hannahjsworld @laugh-like-the-moon @fallengoddess772 @kingric03 @dolphinpink310 @paigeyisme @bunnychano3o @dxrtygxrl28 @z-nyx @baby-iyania @trashygeek
#corpse husband#corpse x reader#corpse husband x reader#fanfiction#youtubers#corpse husband imagine#writing#imagine
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Hi wow depression is a hell of a thing.
I'm sorry for the relative silence here, considering everything that has been going on in the last (roughly) year and a half it has been really hard to focus on any creative outlets. Everything has felt pretty heavy as I have been piecing together what exactly happened to myself and the people I used to share a community with.
Although my former FC is basically non-existent at this point, I feel it is appropriate to say that I no longer associate with its' leader @morganaux (sernoudenet on Twitter and formerly here) and to clarify why.
I have been struggling with what to even say about the situation. There are so many layers that I don't honestly know if any single cross-section could explain all there is to unpack. When it takes multiple people six months to explore everything they know as fact... I think that shows its not so much of a 'he said, they said' scenario as the few people who still support Morgy have tried to claim.
I feel guilty not speaking up sooner, considering this person is a member of the FFXIV community who I'm fairly sure some of my mutuals follow. Its so hard to speak out when he publicly acts innocent, like he has quietly moved on and refuses to acknowledge what he's done.
The reality feels so cold in contrast, with the knowledge I have- that he has done this multiple times before, burning down or wearing down those he has hurt with false sincerity; claiming innocence, claiming people misunderstand the significance of the intentions behind the knives in their backs, claiming he is the truest victim of the mess wrought of his own actions.
He quietly retweets fan art, cute animals, head canons, and all kinds of fandom things- but also others' tweets to identify with their own traumas- the same traumatic thoughts and feelings he incites in others through a mixture of gaslighting, lashing out, and playing the victim. He tweets passive aggressively about people he feels the victim of, (justified or not) even amid posts about his dearly beloved OC.
At this point I should just block him and try to scrape all memory of what I went through from my mind, but un-fucking-fortunately I know him too well to believe it's over when it's over. He still makes passive aggressive tweets about people he hasn't talked to in one, two, ?? years, a person who was a good friend to him for 10 years before he scapegoated them to maintain his own sense of righteousness.
Seeing as I witnessed him maintain not one, not two, not three- FOUR venting channels in his own discord, including at one point one specifically made for sh*tting on a single person, defending it's use and encouraging others to participate saying 'this is how victims cope'...
I know it's not over, and if he had a single shred of...anything... He could leverage against me he would have already tried to 'cancel' me. I'm not turning my back again to see if he decides to throw another knife.
For a long time I wanted to believe I had simply misunderstood the situation, that his intentions weren't so self-serving. The more I saw, the more I heard testimony from others that matched my own, the more I began to un-repress and process my own memories and connect the dots... And the less sense his own account made.
While I tried to maintain my friendship with him I ignored all the red flags, my own rise in anxiety, the isolation I felt. I felt so much pressure to fit into his equation, to be a supportive friend, to keep track of how he was feeling that I stopped taking care of my own mental health.
All the while he got angry for people not checking on him when he asked for space, threw a fit when anyone failed to accommodate his whims, and even accused his three closest friends of purposefully excluding him by taking screenshots without him in them or even hanging out together when he was offline..
And he would have people believe that most of the issues he was involved in centered on his friends not communicating with him. But in my case at least, nothing could be further from the truth.
I told him I felt uncomfortable with the fact his (at the time) friend had publicly lashed out at me in his discord server for stating my opinion. He suggested I work harder to befriend this person, that he couldn't and wouldn't approach his friend about it because he wasn't a FC member and only there as a friend of himself and his two closest friends.
He lashed out at a former friend (and FC mate) of mine -on my behalf- because they wouldn't stop messaging me while I was at work... And when this person subsequently put me on blast thinking I had put him up to it I mentioned considering posting my side of the story- to initially be shamed (by the person mentioned above) for suggesting I protect myself, stating it could make things worse for the people who had already publicly attacked this person...
I approached him about another former friend of his angrily ranting about a character I had though at the time they knew I was planning to RP (I had spoken about it both in-game and in a discord we all shared) because I didn't know them well enough to feel comfortable saying that made me feel uncomfortable and unwelcome in the space. I approached my former friend because I knew from experience he took things like this seriously and he was the one who had invited this character TO role play in the first place.
He reacted by telling this person he had no idea why I was upset, asked them to address an issue they had no context for - prompting them to write an apology, and then reinforced their worry that I hated them by saying I "probably disliked them since [I] hadn't written them an apology" in return. I had thought they both wanted to drop the subject because he stopped responding about the situation.
He decided the situation was resolved and kept inviting us around one another for at least four months while keeping up the illusion that I disliked this person despite me trying to remain friendly- and said nothing about the situation until AFTER he had nuked his FC and almost everyone was done with his bullshit. I had asked him to be honest about the situation and finally got "[name] thinks you dislike him" ???
(I might add more details about these situations because it's honestly much more of a mess than it might seem, but I'd probably have to write a fucking book to explain everything well in-sequence of events.)
But those examples aside, I told him up front that the favoritism he showed and my concerns being glossed over was messing with my head, that I didn't know if I felt safe in his FC, that the whole situation was making me feel like I was losing my grip on reality, that at one point feeling like I was being discouraged from defending myself was beginning to make me feel su*cidal. These are things he knew.
He reacted to this ignoring both cause and effect, ignoring me unless I reached out first or it concerned RP, continually inviting me to hang out with people he knew I felt uncomfortable with (or vice versa) and normally turning down anything I invited him to do otherwise- including several times that I offered to help him with Eden or dungeons he wanted to farm when he previously said he was free to do so. A couple of times he declined saying he was waiting to see if he could convince another friend... and then threw a fit about 'no one wanting to help him' despite declining my offer and not reaching out to me after his other friend declined (I was still online but he decided to vent on discord instead).
Behind my back he talked shit about me, enough that someone who had known him 10 years and was familiar with his behavioral patterns qualified it 'constant' bashing, whenever I came up in conversation. And even included confronting me about the three situations I mentioned above in a plan he was working on to 'fix' his FC, as if he thought I was reaching out to him to stir up drama.
Eventually it came out that the friend I mentioned in the first example was emotionally abusing his friends (and I found out later told him two of them were talking shit about him- prompting HIM to lash out at them). One of them mentioned that person had still been talking shit about me 6 months later on a private account and when I got upset that THREE people I had thought were my friends didn't tell me, I made a few jokes in poor taste (that I do now regret) about the situation to try and prevent myself from having a mental break down.
The person he led to believe I hated left the discord server at that point and he decided to divert some of the blame for (in his words) 'being worried for this person's life' -whom he had attacked over the situation- to me... blaming them leaving and him having trouble contacting them on me.
I told him if this former friend was indeed attacking people and he was so worried we needed to talk about the situation, since in other situations his response was to ignore the hurt caused. He blew up about me messaging him at work, he blamed me for every situation I had brought to his attention. He went to his mods to rant about me and sent one of them to scope out the situation in hopes they could shut me up.
This is the friend of 10 years, who quickly became concerned and not for the reasons he had hoped. They shared a few screenshots of things said to gaslight me behind my back as the conversation progressed. Eventually the other mod jumped in and, knowingly or not proceeded to gaslight me FOR him, based on what they were told. By him.
They reinforced everything he was saying in guise of a neutral perspective and my efforts to prevent a full-scale breakdown failed. I lost all grip on reality for several days- in which at some point I wrote an apology to him for accusing him of several things that were later proven true- and one thing he, himself, proved he'd lied about to the other person involved.
I spent almost two weeks in a self-imposed social break to sort everything out and attempt to cope with what I was told was reality. I fell into the deepest depression I've been in since I had to run away from home, and honestly if it wasn't for my wonderful SO and our house mates, I might have really hurt myself.
It turns out another situation had been brewing parallel to my own. People had been coming to the social mod, the friend of 10 years, with their own worries about him. Almost every. Single. Member. Including at least four people who came forward with fears that if they did a single thing that he interpreted as an insult or threat they would find themselves exiled, called out, and ranted about in a jumbled mix of truth and fictional-malice until their own friends turned on them to support his victim complex.
These four people came forward on the condition that their names be kept anonymous to protect their identity. He didn't take kindly to this, quickly demanding names so they (his mod team) could handle the situation. The mod refused, knowing he has a history of lashing out at any criticism against him and to protect those who were already afraid of bringing the problems up to Morgy.
He reacted by lashing out at this person, claiming they ruined his life, and attempting to weed out those who had spoken out against him by kicking anyone he didn't feel 'safe' being around from his FC. He posted a message in his FC discord about resuming his 'reign of terror'... Which, even if it was a joke, was in in poor taste after pruning his FC of anyone he didn't think could be convinced of his 'good intentions.'
I missed this first culling of his FC members, I assume, because I had apologized and at the time submitted to his version of events. He approached me soon after I noticed the changes in the discord and FC roster; claiming he really wanted to work things out and remain friends- going as far as to say he was so nervous about my reaction that he was shaking.
I wanted to take him at face value despite everything that happened because yeah, I did want to believe he was sincere, that he was a good friend, and that all of it had been an unfortunate misunderstanding. And at first I did until I started talking to other people who knew him and getting their side of the story. Nothing he said added up. Between first-hand testimony and over a hundred screenshots from multiple people the ONLY things that were clear and consistent were that he lied and fit his narrative to whatever he wanted to achieve.
He tried to reduce conflict by omitting information, he controlled people's perception of one another by how he spoke about them and how close he let them to himself and others, he built a support group by polarizing his friends against his 'enemies' and if anyone had a problem with him... They were wrong, and got added to the pile of 'aggressors' he had accumulated over the years, to be bashed and spit on for years to come.
He may have sensed my change in opinion when I directly asked him to help me reach out to the person who thought I disliked them- managed to come to an understanding and we mutually apologized for the situation... Without his meddling. Or maybe when he realized I was still on talking terms with the people he had lashed out at and directly asked him why he had kicked people who did absolutely nothing to him... Or it could be that I kept in contact with the person who 'ruined his life' by trying to protect his friends from him. I don't know.
While we were still talking he tried to identify with me and bond over the feeling of loosing the FC, a group of people that despite the anxiety, and pain I had felt in the environment he'd built I did deeply respect and care about... Despite the dissolution of that group and the abuse I suffered being -at the core- his own fault. He even went as far as to say my description of the PTSD and fear I was experiencing described exactly how he was feeling, too.
As our conversations further weighed on my mental health I had to take a break from interacting with him. I was honest again, with what I was told, what I knew, and asked him for honesty about the situation... What he had said about me behind my back and why because I wanted to hear it from him. I wanted to see if he would acknowledge the harm he caused both to me and the rest of the (former) FC.
He never did, and probably won't. He asked for some time to tend to his own stress levels and mental health and then blocked me on all social media and discord, and kicked me from his FC without ever making an effort to reach out.
Of the few people who are still close to him, one of them suggested that "maybe he just decided he didn't want to be friends anymore." But after him begging to have a conversation to iron out all the facts, claiming to be so anxious about such a conversation going well that he was 'shaking', admitting that what he did hurt people and that my being wary of him was understandable, asking me -directly- to let him know if he did anything 'shady', and stressing he REALLY wanted this conversation to take place when we were both able to handle it because of how important he felt it was...
I feel like its fair to say that him suddenly cutting off all contact isn't quite so simple. He could have done that at any point. Before pointedly ignoring my concerns, before gaslighting me, before blaming me for the results of his own actions, before accepting an apology for accusing him of things he did legitimately do, and certainly before directly telling me had no real problems with me, that he it was super important to him that we remain friends, and that I deserved his honesty.
I'm not going to try and tell anyone who they should be friends with or not. Frankly, people can change and in a lot of cases experiences with individuals will be different.
But on that same note, if I had known then what I know now I might have saved myself from roughly two years of anxiety and avoided the state of dissonance I now find myself in. I still have moments where I want to doubt the things I experienced first hand. My mind is still trying to repress my own memories to cope.
A part of me still cares about him despite everything because as far as I knew, he was my friend and I am still trying to reconcile what I found to be true.
At this point I feel like I should say please don't harass Morgy if you read this, but honestly? If you have any reason to hold him accountable go for it. He needs it. And if you have any gut feelings about him or anyone in his circle please listen to it. The few supporters he still has are willing to ignore anything he has done previous to the fall of his FC and have shown they are willing to debate and accuse people who speak out about legitimate concerns involving him.
If anyone has any questions I am willing to answer them and share the proof I have.
And in the off chance anyone wants to (further) argue with me about my experiences or whether or not I suffered enough to be considered a victim, please Google some images of a hand giving the middle finger. But if after that you still really want to play stupid games? I can find you some stupid prizes.
I don't owe him my silence. Or peace of mind. The only thing I owe him is to be as entirely, brutally, honest as possible given the information I have. I think it's a fair offer considering the mind-numbing volume of honesty he -still- owes all of us.
- - - - -
I may add more onto this. Unfortunately the entire situation is a lot more complex, but I wanted to get the backbone of my own experiences out there and there is so much bullshit it can't all be seen from any one direction. A lot of the circumstantial evidence loops back into other situations and makes it hard to comprehensively represent everything on any sort of singular timeline. As I said in the beginning there is a reason it took a small group 6 months to piece it together.
I am far from the only person hurt, and the entire situation was a mess with people feeling unnerved or pressured into going along with his agenda. For the most part now that I have more context I don't blame most of the people involved for their own actions. I fully support those who can't or won't come forward about the situation whether they just want out of his drama, or are afraid to come forward.
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I just find it so unfortunate that some aggressive shippers ruin a ship and a character for so many people. A popular Erwin x Levi artist got hate comments by some Levihan shippers and so many people are bashing it now on twitter because of that. Its just so sad considering LH was one of the most beautiful and fun dynamics in such a depressing story. Even Hange is getting hated because LH is pretty much the default ship involving them and it just breaks my heart :(
Twitter has some great content and I actually hang around AOT twt for some quick content. It’s like every time I’m feeling fast food I just hang there, like a few tweets, read a few soc med AUs etc etc.
But god. It’s a mess man. Last year I was constantly on twitter to be honest and it left me in a bad mood everyday because people are just being assholes for little to no reason really but just to put themselves in what they believe is a morally higher ground from their peers. And people just like fighting and the funny part is no opinions are actually heard, no views are actually exchanged. It’s just “you dont agree with me so you’re a bad person.”
Ad hominem attacks are just everywhere.
So I like staying in my small little hole and just talking to myself there and just liking the content of the Levihan people I actually follow. I see stuff I don’t agree with but I’ve kinda accepted that a lot of people there are just there to push an agenda because really if people were that open minded, I don’t think lynching and call out culture would have gotten this far.
I’ve used this same analogy so many times but I feel like in Twitter, people are just scrambling for some sort of moral high ground. Because of that, it is completely useless to engage in discourse there because one thing I noticed is most people who are vocal there already have a set stance on something and the fact that they’re ready to just bully anyone who stands in the way of their agenda, just makes convincing them out of the agenda impossible and a complete waste of time. And there are two issues in particular among the LH community which are really unsettling for me: the ship wars and within the LH community, the gender war.
Ship wars
I find the ship wars unnecessary because really what makes a superior ship?
Probability of being canon? How much fuel they were given in canon? Healthiness of the relationship?
The truth is people ship for many reasons. But really, who are we to judge how a person goes about the way they decide to participate in the fandom and ship? As long as it is something they keep within personal spaces and do it responsibly, I don’t think it’s our business to judge someone or lynch them. The important thing is people are able to not be an asshole about it. People can ship the most questionable shit, create the most dubious content, as long as that person is respecting boundaries and putting the right tags and trigger warnings, who are we to call them out right?
Of course I prefer LH over other Levi ships personally but is there really a need to attack other people’s ships about it? I probably do poke fun at Ereri because until now I still do not get why people enjoy Ereri in the first place but why destroy the fandom experience for people just because we don’t agree with them.
My general intention behind shipping Levihan is because above anything I value the healthiness in the relationship and the things people can learn about love and relationships by analyzing Levihan’s dynamics and headcanoning them. I love Levi and Hange’s dynamics to death and I like digging deeper into them and pulling out lessons from it about love, life and relationships and just sharing them with people which is my whole point for participating in this fandom in the first place.
But in the end, ships are just preferences. Some people like getting a kick out of dubious pairings and toxic relationships. As long as they consume these responsibly and don’t emulate them in real life, I see no problem in it.
The toxic ones are the ones who actively crucify people for preferences.
The Gender War
One really disturbing thing I found about twitter is that deciding to use ‘she’ to refer to Hange can get you lynched. I found a few accounts that would reblog tweets where someone says something like “Yes, Hange, Queen” which gets retweeted by some NB Hange folk who say stuff like “Unfollow this transphobe now.”
Because apparently deciding to headcanon Hange as a woman or just preferring to use ‘she’ makes people a transphobe. Which is personally just... really disturbing. I don’t believe words like homophobic, transphobic, racist should be so easily thrown around unless there is hard evidence to believe that someone is really one of the epithets above like for example:
There are things I find completely assholish like of course, refusing to use someone’s preferred pronouns if they ask you.
But Hange is fictional and Hange is a gift to the fandom.And I don’t even think the issue about Hange’s gender should have ever reached this far. The only thing Yams ever said was that Hange is just not the type to be tied down to a single gender.
And policing Hange’s gender and saying NOPE SHE’S NON BINARY USE THEY Is just counterintuitive to the whole idea that she’s a free spirit. In the end, Hange as a character wouldn’t have given a fuck whether people called her a they, she or even a he.
And yeah, it’s frustrating really that these two issues I just discussed above are ruining Hange as a character for a lot of people and consequently, ruining Levi x Hange as a ship.
Apparently, a lot of people are closet LxH shippers or closet Hange stans because the moment they tweet something about Hange, there are people who will attack them. If people refer to Hange as they, they get attacked. If people refer to Hange as she, they get attacked. There are so many antis apparently to the LxH ship, some apparently are jealous because ‘it’s the closest to canon’ while others just apparently deem it a toxic ship because of our own internal gender war.
There’s no winning really. And to be honest, there’s nothing I can do either and I don’t want to engage in any arguments in twitter if at the end of it, I’m just gonna end up wasting my time listening to ad hominem attacks directed at me just for not agreeing with someone in a fandom related matter. .
I’ve said my piece about the Hange gender issue so many times. There are NBs who use she. There are those who use they. Being female and being NB aren’t mutually exclusive. You can be both at the same time.
But yeah, we still have people being assholes about this and pushing factually wrong agendas. I love research and I have been writing research papers and metas for a lot of things even before I started this blog in the first place. And I eventually learned that the world is so complex that no opinion is completely and absolutely correct.
And ideally, opinions shouldn’t be made so easily.
Don’t get me wrong. I believe everyone is entitled to a preference and when I say preference I mean the type of food they like, the type of wallpaper they like.
But no one is entitled to a moral judgement or opinion just for existing and when I say opinion I mean questions on morals, on what’s right or what isn’t, what is or what should be. Every single person has the responsibility to research, hear both sides of a discourse and understanding them before deciding for themselves what’s right. And this is why hearing accusations that someone is ‘transphobic,’ ‘homophobic’ blah blah over how we hc a character just really does not sit well with me.
Passing moral judgement on someone requires discernment, deep thought and lots and lots of evidence. But yeah this is a philosophical question and a political question so I ain’t going to delve into it here.
Because, in the end, fandoms are preferences. The way we choose to participate in a fandom and create content are preferences more than anything.
So what? (Btw, if you reached all the way here, thank you for listening to me ramble lol and sorry if you weren’t expecting this type of ramble)
I know I’ve just been rambling a lot up there for a lot of reasons but really what message do I wanna give?
Fandoms are preferences more than anything so I don’t even believe that there should be a discussion on moral judgement here. People can have the weirdest kinks, the most questionable preferences but as long as they aren’t going around romanticizing abuse, beating up people in real life, killing them and lying in real life, who are we to judge?
Even if someone says they have a rape kink and abuse kink when it comes to fics, as long as they acknowledge it’s something they shouldn’t emulate in real life, as long as they can keep an adult conversation about it, I think these people are generally kinder and more pleasant overall than people who force their healthy canon ship and lynch everyone for having more questionable preferences.
Ship and let ship. Live and let live. Headcanon and let headcanon. If a person has a differing opinion, listen. (Or really, if you just don’t want to deal with listening to differing opinions coz you’re just gonna get stressed, don’t lynch? Don’t send hate? And just ignore it?)
Ask yourself. Does the person acknowledge that it isn’t right in real life? Do they acknowledge if they emulate it in real life it has the potential to be harmful?
Honestly, all I wanna do is just let people stan Levi and Hange however they want to. There are obviously hcs I dont agree with. But in the LH community we just all love Levihan, let’s not ruin the fandom experience for anyone. In the AOT community, we all just love AOT, let’s not ruin it for anyone. Let’s not hurt anyone, attack them etc.
If someone doesn’t agree and they can hold an adult conversation about it and they don’t emulate these toxic opinions in real life and they recognize that there is the option to just agree to disagree, why don’t we just listen and engage in this discourse to learn more about other people and to build more perspectives?
Because really it isn’t the questionable hcs or the multiple genders which leaves such a bad taste in my mouth. It’s the people who just go straight to attacking instead of actually considering that there’s potential for discourse and there’s potential to ‘agree to disagree’ because in the end, fandom discourse is a question of preference more than moral judgement.
It’s easier said than done really. But personally for me, I just try to keep my fandom experience as non toxic as possible while at the same time as mentally fulfilling as possible. I enjoy discourse, I like hearing differing opinions and I really believe with something as light and as inconsequential as fandoms as our common ground, we can learn to peacefully co-exist despite differing opinions on what the best ship is or what Hange’s gender is.
Note: I won’t delve too much on the Hange gender issue here because I have pending asks about those which I’ll answer in one go, but I really believe that both they and she are valid pronouns for Hange.
I have a general preference for ‘she’ because it’s just easier to read. But personally I don’t think too much about the gender identity issue because it’s really just too complex for me and i like spending my time thinking of other headcanons about Hange than gender and people who push the Hange is nb agenda and people who push the Hange is a female agenda and just insult each other and lynch each other are both equally unsettling.
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Figure of Speech
Summary: Killian has been in love with Emma Swan ever since he was eleven and she was his babysitter. The last time he saw her was the day he kissed her, thinking they were having a special moment… right before she headed off to college with her boyfriend.
When their paths cross years later, he’s just happy she remembers him—because while he’s a talented, free-spirited journalist who takes risks and has a knack for finding trouble, Emma is an accomplished and sophisticated politician who’s planning to run for President of the United States.
Sensing Killian Jones—the boy who once knew her and supported her long before she entered the soul-sucking world of politics—is the key to unlocking a part of herself that’s been dormant for so long, she hires him as her speechwriter. As she travels the world to launch her 2020 presidential campaign, he is by her side, helping Emma find her voice again.
The attraction between them sizzles, but when they eventually give into it, will their relationship withstand the demands of the election and scrutiny of the public?
A/N: Thank you @ultraluckycatnd for beta reading and @onceuponaprincessworld for your help with this! Thank you @captainswanmoviemarathon for starting the event and everyone on discord for all your help!
Before you read, there are a few things I want to clarify.
First off, this story is heavily based on the movie, Long Shot, for the Captain Swan Movie Marathon, with some elements of OUAT weaved in. What I’m referring to mainly is that the president in this fic is in no way based on President Trump. In other words, I am not using this fic to bash the current U.S. president in any shape or form, or any other real-life president. So if you plan on going into this with that mindset, I beg you to hit the back button right now. This story in no way reflects my opinions or views, I mainly stuck to the plot of the movie.
Secondly, I hope that I have made it perfectly clear in the beginning scene of this chapter that Killian is not actually a white supremacist, he is only going undercover to get his story. Nor is he Jewish like Fred Flarsky is in the movie. He’s the Killian we all know and love. So please don’t send me hate messages accusing me of either being a racist or writing Killian as one. I was very torn whether to include this scene or not but I feel it is relevant to the plot and shows Killian’s character in this story as very passionate about what he believes in and is a big risktaker when getting his point across, so I decided to keep it.
Third of all, I know some of you are sick of hearing about politics, especially since the U.S. election is so close. But this is not a political movie, it’s a romance. There is of course some talk of politics, but I’ve tried my best to keep it to a minimum. So if you’re worried about that, please don’t be. The movie genre is a romantic comedy.
Writing this fic was a huge wake-up call for me because it’s the first one in a while that I’m not proud of, for lack of a better word, because I have not been able to spend much time on it. I have so many wips in my docs it’s not even funny and I think that has really impacted how this chapter turned out. But because of this fic, I decided to take some time and work on finishing some of my wips before posting them, with the exception of this one because today is my posting date.
With that said, because I’ve been pushing myself to finish my wips, I finished writing my first original novel after working on it for two years, and I will be publishing it soon. So be sure to look out for Follow My Lead, a romance about a former ballerina and a gym owner.
Okay, now I am done with my rant, so please enjoy!
AO3 FF.N
Rated: M
2018
“So you guys are fairly active on social media, right?”
“Yeah,” Jaxon answers absentmindedly, his eyes focused on the cue ball as he lines up the shot.
“How many times a day would you say you Tweet on average?”
Jaxon taps the ball, sends it into its pocket, and high-fives Marcus, ignoring the question.
“Hey Rogers, ready to get a Swastika tattoo?!” Richard calls from the other room as the tattoo artist is finishing up with him.
“No, that’s okay, I’m cool,” Killian replies nonchalantly through the large lump in his throat, glad his British accent didn’t leak out as he takes his turn.
“Oh, come on, man, we’ve all got ‘em!”
Killian gulps and looks around the room, all the members pulling up their shirts to show their tattoos on the left side of their chest. He was hoping it wouldn’t come to this, but he can sense Jaxon is already suspicious of his motives. He forces a small smile, pointing to himself with his free hand as he holds up the cue stick in the other one. “You want me to get a swastika tattoo?”
“Yeah!” the group chants in unison.
“Then I’ll get a swastika tattoo,” he agrees submissively, hoping the anxiety he feels isn’t clear in his voice. He removes his leather jacket, or rather the jacket he borrowed from Victor, depositing it in a chair before he walks into the adjacent room where the tattoo artist is waiting for him. He sits in the parlor chair, his stomach twisted in knots as he chooses his left bicep for the tattoo and cringes at the thought of getting it. He’s never gotten a tattoo before, and not only is he afraid of needles, but his beliefs don’t at all resemble anything a swastika symbol resembles. Tattoos are removable, though, right?
When the needle pierces his skin, he pinches his eyelids shut and yelps, “Blo-ooooody he-eeeell!” He realizes his mistake immediately when the words screech out in his thick, British accent. Plus, bloody hell isn’t exactly an American phrase.
He’s praying no one noticed, because if they did, they would know he’s lying about who he claims to be, but when he flips his eyelids open, everyone’s staring at him.
Fuck.
Jaxon, the leader of the group, enters the room with Killian’s jacket in one hand and wallet in the other, raising it for everyone to see Killian’s driver’s license. His heart flitters with panic. “Look at this. He’s been lying to us. His name isn’t John Rogers,” Jaxon announces angrily. Marcus appears next to him, holding up his laptop. On the screen is the Storybrooke Advocate website with Killian’s profile pic on the page. “It’s Killian Jones. He works for the Storybrooke Advocate! He’s a fucking journalist!”
“Wait, wait, wait, I can explain!” Killian pleads, raising his hands in surrender.
The members circle him like sharks, and everything becomes a blur as they yank him from the chair and slam him against a table.
“What are you doing, trying to fucking embarrass us, huh?!” Jaxon screams at him. “Who sent you?!”
“No one sent me!” Killian claims adamantly, fear and pain crippling him as he tries to think his way out of this. “I was just…”
Before he can finish his sentence, Marcus reaches into Killian’s jeans pocket as the others hold him down, and pulls out his phone. Which is currently recording everything. “He’s been recording us this entire time!”
Jaxon’s face is red with anger, steam practically emitting from his ears as he grits his teeth and fists Killian’s shirt in a vice-like grip, pulling him so close that Killian smells his wretched breath. “You infiltrated our group! You’re gonna fucking die!”
They say your life flashes before your eyes during your very last moments. They say it’s like reliving every moment that’s ever stuck with you—every moment that’s ever made an impression on you. Killian always thought when he was finally shuffled off to sleep with the fishes, his life would appear in sequence or at least in random order, featuring all the people who have played a vital role in his life—his parents, his brother, his best friend—but he never thought one person would stick in his mind. He never thought all the images flashing before his eyes would be of one person and one person only.
The woman he’s been in love with since he was eleven years old.
Killian remembers when he first fell in love with her like it were yesterday. Or at least an eleven-year-old boy’s version of love. He remembers the song, It’s So Hard to Say Goodbye to Yesterday by Boyz II Men, was playing on the boombox. He remembers what day it was, what he was wearing and the fuzzy feeling in his chest. He remembers thinking about one of his favorite movies, The Sandlot, how Squints tricked the lifeguard, Wendy Peffercorn, into kissing him and how she eventually married him even though she was older and way out of his league.
Back then, a three or four year age gap seemed like a huge deal, but maybe because he was so young and she was… well she was so grown up and mature and very beautiful for her age. Not Wendy Peffercorn. Well, he supposes Wendy was too, but Killian had his real-life version of the movie character. His version of her was also blonde. She may not have been a lifeguard, but she was his next-door neighbor and also his babysitter ever since his brother left to join the Navy. Killian’s bedroom had an excellent view of her backyard and he would occasionally watch her sunbathing by the pool as she listened to music on her headphones or read a book in her bikini. Not only did she have a beautiful body, but she was wicked smart. She was passionate about the environment and the things she cared about. She was super nice to him—which went a long way with him—and had a ridiculously cute, dimpled smile. She was perfect. An angel.
Maybe that’s why, right before his death, she’s the only one he sees.
Before he met her, he never considered kissing a girl, or even liking one for that matter. He thought girls were gross and had cooties. But Emma was no girl. Not even at fifteen. She was a woman.
Emma Swan was his Wendy Peffercorn.
She still is. Even as he’s being threatened by a group of angry white supremacists.
She’s all he sees.
“Did you know that every year, the school throws away over five hundred tons of recyclable garbage? And no one cares!”
“Aye, it’s rubbish. But how do you get muppets to care about stuff they don’t care about?”
Emma shrugs. “They’ll just…” She bites her bottom lip, hesitance etching her features, “they’ll just c-care because it’s the right thing to care about.” She may not have all the answers, but she’s the most inspiring person he knows.
He smiles and rests one elbow on the counter, his chin perched in his hand as he admires her passion for the environment. He admires how beautiful she is in simply a snug pair of blue jeans and a white t-shirt with a picture of a buttercup on the front. He admires her waist-length, golden hair, how it glows radiantly in the sunlight cascading through the kitchen window and how it swishes from side to side when she turns around to grab a mitt and pull the pizza out of the oven. Delicious aromas of crisp, baked bread, melted mozzarella cheese and sweet tomato sauce waft through the kitchen, making his stomach growl. Licking his lips, he jumps off the stool and heads over to grab a slice from the pan.
She gently swats his hand away. “Don’t touch, kid, you’ll burn yourself. Let it cool, first.”
He frowns as he returns to his seat. He hates it when she calls him that. He doesn’t want her to think of him as a kid; he’s almost a teenager! Heeding her warning, he does his best to resist the temptation of getting up again and grabbing a slice, even though the gooey, golden cheese, colorful toppings and toasted crust look amazing. Instead, he places the hand she’d touched on his cheek. He never wants to wash his hand or his cheek ever again.
Emma continues the speech she’d prepared for her Student Council election. She’s running for president, and he is not only her biggest supporter, but he also came up with her campaign slogan, ‘Stay calm and vote for Swan’. He was quite proud of himself when she actually thought it was clever enough to use.
“I would definitely vote for you, Swan.”
“Thanks, Killy,” she says, ruffling a hand through his hair.
Now that’s a better nickname. Though he hates when his brother calls him Killy, he never minds when Emma does.
Once the pizza is cool enough to eat, Emma returns to the oven, using a pizza cutter on the pie. She plates two big slices, one for each of them, and brings them to the counter, sitting next to him. They eat their pizza in silence at first, besides the yummy food noises they make.
“Thanks for helping me. I know it’s probably boring hearing my speech over and over again.”
He shakes his head. “Not at all,” he mumbles through a mouth full of pizza. “I’m just happy to help,” he smiles. His hand pauses midair, still holding his half-eaten slice of pizza as he locks eyes with his beautiful babysitter. He wonders if she feels the same way he does, and normally he wouldn’t think it was possible, but the way she’s looking at him right now makes him rethink everything.
She reaches out to him, and he closes his eyes as she caresses his cheek. His heart slams against his chest and he loses all the air from his lungs. And that’s when he knows he’s totally and completely in love. Her hand feels so wonderfully warm, he wants to spend the rest of his life feeling her touch and immediately gets a chill when she pulls her hand away.
“All better.”
His eyes flip open to see Emma wiping her hand with a napkin. She looks up at him and smiles. “You had some sauce on your face.”
He chuckles on the outside, but internally he’s berating himself for being foolish enough to think someone like Emma Swan could possibly like him. She’s way too good for him.
Especially when he’s thirteen and has to wear glasses. As if hitting puberty isn’t bad enough, he also has to sport the most hideous pair of thick-framed glasses. By then, his father said he was too old to have a babysitter, so he didn’t get to see Emma as much. He mowed the Swans’ lawn occasionally, but she was gone most of the time with extracurricular activities and prepping for college. He convinced himself she could never be into someone like him. Someone who was nerdy and awkward and four years her junior.
Until one day when he’s fourteen and she’s eighteen.
She’s leaving for college and he’s been in his room sulking while listening to It’s So Hard to Say Goodbye for two weeks, not looking forward to her departure. He’s afraid he’ll never see her again. But he’s also happy for her. She’s off to better and greater things, greener pastures as they say. She’s going to Harvard and leaving him in the dust.
He’s on the front porch, sitting on the top step, his chin in his hands and his elbows propped up on his knees as he watches Emma and her parents packing up her things. He wants to offer his assistance, but this seems like a very important bonding moment for the three of them and he doesn’t wish to interrupt. He can tell Mr. and Mrs. Swan are both incredibly sad but also very proud of their daughter, and there are lots of hugs and tears by the time the car is packed. Then Emma says something to her parents and they wave at Killian. He smiles and waves back before they head inside.
Emma walks over to him, and he immediately stands up, making his way down the remaining steps.
“Hey,” she murmurs, smiling at him.
“Hey,” he parrots, offering a small smile. “So, you’re all packed?”
“Yeah, we’re leaving soon.”
Nodding nervously, he scratches behind his ear as he looks away, not sure what to say.
“Look, I’m not a goodbye person, but — ”
“Let’s not say goodbye then,” he suggests and offers his hand. But instead of shaking it, she throws her arms around him. Killian’s stunned, and can’t even move at first, completely paralyzed in her embrace.
Emma’s hugging him.
He slowly molds into her body, his arms wrapping around her waist as she tightens her hold. Her hair smells like strawberries and cream as he buries his face there. He never wants to let her go.
“I’ll miss you, Killian,” she whispers in his ear.
His heart does a little somersault, and he whispers, “Not a day will go by when I won’t think of you.”
He feels her smile against his neck. “Good.”
That one simple word does something to him and he grins into her hair, holding her tighter.
She breaks the hug long before he’s ready, and he’s still awestruck as she leans in to kiss him.
Bloody hell.
Emma Swan leans in for a kiss as he springs forward to meet her halfway. Their lips finally connect like they had so many times in his dreams, but he doesn’t fail to miss how surprised she is when a gasp escapes against his mouth. She doesn’t pull away, but he knows he probably should after realizing she was actually going for his cheek. But her lips are so soft and warm and taste like cinnamon and cocoa, and he swears they move ever so slightly against his. He still has his arms around her, pressing her to him, and her center suddenly moves away from him. Forcing himself to break the kiss, he looks down and notices the very prominent and very hard erection tenting his pants.
Fuck.
His cheeks are on fire as he looks up, apology and embarrassment flushing his face. He’s expecting her to either slap him or storm away and never look back, but she stares down at his groin, her mouth agape.
“Bloody hell, I’m so sorry, love.”
“It’s okay,” Emma squeaks as her eyes snap up to his.
Just then, a ‘69 Ford Mustang pulls up in front of Emma’s house, the music booming through the speakers at an obnoxious volume.
He panics when Emma’s boyfriend gets out of the car and makes his way over to them. Killian forgot Neal was riding with Emma to Harvard, where he was certainly not attending. Neal could only get into a community college.
Killian quickly pulls off the backward baseball cap from his head and uses it to cover his obvious boner.
“Hey, babe, ready to go?”
She nods and looks at Killian, a small smile tilting her lips.
“Bye, four-eyes,” Neal taunts with a condescending sneer as he wraps his arm around Emma’s shoulders.
Really?
Killian bites his tongue as he rolls his eyes. That nickname really gets old. Can’t he think of something more original?
“Don’t call him that,” Emma scolds her boyfriend, swatting his chest. “He has a name.”
“Sorry, I mean Killian,” he says insincerely before turning around and pulling Emma with him.
As Killian watches them walk away, pushing up the bridge of his glasses with his finger, he would give anything to be the one with his arm around Emma, the one leaving with her instead of being the one she leaves. She cranes her neck to look at him as she walks away. He swears she’s looking at him longingly but he’s sure he’s only imagining it. She’s still gazing at him until her parents emerge from the house. Neal doesn’t even have the courtesy to open the door to her parents’ station wagon for her, and instead hurries into the back seat.
Arsehole, Killian thinks bitterly as he watches the vehicle pull away from the curb. Emma stares at him through the passenger’s window, and their eyes connect. He flashes one last smile and waves. She smiles back at him and presses her palm to the window before she disappears down the road and out of his life, leaving a permanent gaping hole in his heart.
He always thought not being able to see Emma anymore was the scariest thing he’s ever experienced. But that was before he was inked with part of a swastika tattoo so his cover wouldn’t be blown. That was before he fell from a two-story building and landed in a dumpster. Luckily the trash bags cushioned his fall and didn’t contain any glass or other sharp objects. He hadn’t really thought that through when he jumped. But then again, he didn’t really have time to do anything but run for his life while Marcus and Jaxon were busy trying to figure out how to stop Killian’s phone from recording. Killian took advantage of the distraction and plucked the phone from their hands, sprinting for the nearby window.
His phone.
Killian quickly lifts his hand to see that not only is his phone still in his hand but it’s still intact. He climbs out of the dumpster, his entire body sore, but he lands on his feet. He’d left his leather jacket up there, but it wasn’t even his. Killian doesn’t wear leather jackets, he’s content with his hoodies. He borrowed the jacket from his best friend, Victor. He’ll be pissed, but oh well, Killian will buy him a new one.
Three of the members are poking their heads out the window and Killian looks up at them, throwing the hand that’s still holding his phone in the air. He feels like Bennie in The Sandlot when he finally gets the baseball from the beast and hurdles the fence, still holding onto the ball. The difference is the beast chased Bennie down. The difference is the beast in the movie was not actually a beast at all. He can’t say the same about those white supremacists, though.
“We trusted you, man!” Richard calls out. He’s the one Killian had contacted through one of their social media groups.
“Sorry, mate,” he says in his British accent, his words lacking any sort of apology as he spins around. “Peace!” he calls behind him trying to sound as American as he can, and instead of saluting the members with two fingers, which is not a peace sign for Brits, he flips them the bird as he goes.
∞∞∞
“Tonight on Walsh News, we take an in-depth look at Emma Swan, a Rhodes Scholar, a Pulitzer Prize winner and a protégé of President Gold who tapped Swan two years ago to be the youngest Secretary of State in the history of this nation.”
As sore as Killian is from that jump out of a two-story window and as much as he hates that arsehole, Walsh, and everything the media mongrel represents, he lifts his eyes from his MacBook. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and manages a small smile when he sees Emma on the television screen. He knows what he’d done to write his article and expose the White Power group was worth it. He may have lost faith in humanity long ago, but Emma’s passion and ambition and hope have always stuck with him. He wants to believe the support he’d always shown her when they were young has always stuck with her too, but he doubts it. She doesn’t need his support. She never did. She was never a helpless duckling, and even after she lost the student council election to August Booth because of his stupid two prom platform, her wounds healed and she eventually spread her wings and soared high in the sky, leaving Storybooke in the dust.
As Killian gazes at her wistfully at the screen, he sees the elegant swan he always knew she’d become. While everyone he knows had hopes and dreams they gave up on long ago, Emma is the one person who made hers come true. Well, not quite all of them. She always talked about saving the planet, but he knows her work isn’t nearly finished. She’s only thirty-seven, and even though they haven’t spoken to one another since the day he watched her ride away in her parents’ 1987 Pontiac Safari Station Wagon, he still believes in her. He’ll always believe in her.
∞∞∞
Emma sucks in a deep breath as she twists the knob and opens the thick, wooden door, entering the Oval Office with a little bit of forced enthusiasm. President Gold had been vague over the phone about what he’d wished to discuss with her, but his tone of voice indicated it might be something big. “Good morning Mr. President,” she greets with the smile she had practiced in her bedroom mirror repeatedly that morning.
“Hello, Ms. Swan.” He rises from his chair and rounds the desk, gesturing to one of the couches. “Please, have a seat.”
She sits down and crosses her legs, folding her hands in her lap as he sits on the couch across from her and rests his elbows on his knees. “Ms. Swan…”
“Yes, sir?”
He blows out a long breath as if whatever he’s about to tell her has been weighing on his mind for quite some time. “I will not be seeking re-election.”
Emma’s sure the awestruck expression on her face doesn’t even come close to how surprised she actually is. “Really?” Did she hear him correctly?
He nods, clapping his hands together. “Look, I know how absurd it sounds seeing as I’m only halfway through my first term—”
“And you’re incredibly popular, sir.” But she knows most of his popularity stems from being a television star before he took office. He hosted the popular game show, Let’s Strike a Deal.
“And I’m going to use that popularity to transition into something more prestigious than the presidency. I wanna make it in the movies.”
Emma blinks, not believing what she’s hearing. She opens and closes her mouth several times, trying to process this. “Yoooouuuu… want to leave… the presidency… to be a movie star?”
“I know it’s tough to make the leap from television to film, but I think I’m going to give it a shot.”
After the initial shock washes over her, she sees this as an opportunity. She had planned on running for president in 2024, but with Gold leaving office at the end of his first term, perhaps she can use this to her advantage. And she knows just how to go about it. Gold may be good at convincing people—he is an actor after all—but Emma not only has far more education than him, her extensive political background has helped her greatly improve her cajolery tactics over the years. After she lost the Student Council election to August Booth in high school, she’s learned that in order to get ahead, sometimes you have to use a little sleight of hand to get there—give the people what they want, so to speak. Or, in this case, help Gold realize just how legendary his presidency could be.
“Mr. President, have you given any consideration as to whom you might endorse? I’m sure you’re probably thinking of Yang or Crowley. Sound choices,” she nods and purses her lips, averting her gaze, a look of contemplation on her face. “It’s so strange because I was considering a run in 2024, and I can’t stop wondering what…” she looks at Gold again, “what it would do for your legacy to endorse the first female president. I mean, wow. ” The word is breathy, almost a whisper. “Now that’s a legacy.”
Gold presses his joined hands to his lips and has a thoughtful expression embedded in his features, but she can’t discern what he’s thinking.
She looks at the floor between them while he ponders her words.
“Emma?” he finally says after a moment.
“Hmm?” She reverts her eyes to him.
“I would like to endorse you to be the next President of the United States.”
Her entire body is thrumming with excitement and her stomach is full of butterflies; she doesn’t even care he said it like it was his idea. She’ll even give him credit for it. Besides, trying to convince him otherwise would be like trying to teach a fish how to bark. She closes her eyes and refrains from jumping up and down on the couch. She opens her eyes again, trying to hide the excitement in her voice but fails, her tone coming out unusually high pitched. “I mean, if you think that’s a good idea, sir, I trust you completely. I’d be… I’d be honored.”
He reclines back, wagging a finger at her. “I’ll be pulling for Team Emma. Because you’ve been a great secretary.”
“Of State,” she adds.
“Whatever. You’ve done it well, Dearie.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“So stay focused. Don’t make any major screw-ups. Don’t kill anyone. That’s probably not a problem for you. I don’t know what you’re into. Whatever. And before you know it…” He rises from the couch and hums the US Presidential Anthem.
“I like the sound of that,” Emma says with a jubilant smile as she stands up.
“Hey here she comes, it’s the first lady president,” he chants.
“Thank you, sir.” She heads for the door, Gold following behind her still singing.
“Who can believe she is actually a woman. She’s got a big brain and a couple other assets.”
Emma opens the door and walks through, not even giving another thought to how incredibly sexist Gold is being. She’s floating high on a cloud as she sashays proudly down the hall and raises a subtle victory fist in the air, whispering to herself, “Yessss!”
∞∞∞
“You’re gonna love this,” Killian raves as he hands the piece to his boss. “I almost died for this.”
Sidney lowers the mug from his lips, swallowing his coffee down. He offers a tightlipped smile as he glances very briefly at the draft before looking up at Killian, a serious expression clouding his face. “Got a second?”
“Of course.”
“Come with me.”
Killian follows Sydney into his office and sits across from him at the desk, setting his satchel on the floor.
Sydney sets down Killian’s article and his coffee mug, folding his hands together on the desk. “I have some great news, Killian. We’ve just been bought by Walsh Media.”
Killian pales and his stomach drops. “What?!” Blood bubbles under his skin at the thought of the wanker buying the Storybrooke Advocate. The thought of him owning something Killian has literally put his blood, sweat and tears into. “Bloody hell. Are you fucking kidding me?!” Ever since he was a kid, he’s dreamed of being an investigative journalist, so he’s been nothing but loyal and dedicated to the company from day one. But in the blink of an eye, Walsh has managed to ruin all that for him.
“Look, I knew you would have a poor reaction—”
“A poor reaction?!”
“Killian, this is a good thing.”
“How?! That wanker represents everything we’ve been fighting against since day one. The whole point of this paper is to fight giant media conglomerates. Now we’ve been bought by a giant media conglomerate.”
“I see the irony,” Sydney nods.
“Irony?!” Killian stands from his chair, his voice growing louder with every word. “He’s going to turn us into a giant propaganda machine! And not the good kind!” Anger pulsates through him as he paces back and forth in front of Sidney’s desk; he’s never been this worked up before in his entire life. And that’s saying something for him.
“Killian, we’re running out of options. We’ve been running as long as we can on ads for weed doctors and escorts.”
Killian stops in his tracks and raises his hands in the air. “Then run penis enlargement ads or something!”
“Come on, Killian,” Sydney admonishes.
He sighs in exasperation, trying to calm down, his voice calmer. “This Walsh guy ran fake stories to get Gold elected.”
Sydney shakes his head and raises a finger at him. “No, they couldn’t prove that.”
“We proved it!” He holds up three fingers. “I wrote three articles about it. You published them!”
Sydney nods, lowering his face into the palm of his hand. “I did.”
“The shite that comes out of this guy’s mouth? He said same-sex marriage caused tornadoes! He represents everything that’s wrong with this country!”
“Killian, it’s done, alright?”
He freezes. “It’s done?!”
“They’re upstairs, finalizing the deal right now.”
Killian presses the pads of his fingers to his temples and turns away from his boss as he tries to process this.
Sydney stands and rounds his desk, sitting on the edge, pleading with him. “Look, we have to cut two-thirds of our staff.”
Killian turns around, devastation in his features. “Two-thirds?”
“Yes. But we want to keep you on. They want to keep you on. It’s just,” he blows out a hesitant breath, “you just have to tone it down a little bit.”
Killian furrows his brows in bewilderment. “I don’t know how I can tone things down any more than I’m toning them down, mate,” he mutters through gritted teeth.
“Okay look, Killian, you’re a brilliant writer…”
“Thank you.”
“You’re funny, you take risks, you connect with people…”
Killian’s brows pinch in suspicion. “Why am I sensing there’s a big but coming?”
“You have a distinct, authentic voice… but… ”
“And there it is…” he sighs.
“But, sometimes you’re a little too much.”
Killian is taken aback. “I don’t think I am too much. I actually think I’m the perfect portion,” he says defensively.
“Look, you have your job, so focus on that and just toe the line a little bit.”
Killian is enraged. Toe the line a little bit?! He’s not toeing any lines. “I quit.”
Sydney’s face twists with a mixture of shock and disappointment. “Oh, come on, Killian…”
“You should quit, too. Everyone should bloody well quit.”
“No, I’m not quitting, I need my job.”
“I need my job too. I’m broke. But I can’t work for that tosser.”
Sydney sighs. “At least let me fire you so you can collect unemployment.”
Killian slices a hand through the air over his chest. “No bloody way! I want nothing from him. Besides, I want him to know I quit.”
“He’ll never know it, he’s never heard of you. You’re going to destroy your life to spite a guy who’s never heard of you?”
“Yes! You said it best! That’s exactly what I’m doing. Fuck this.” Killian grabs his satchel and walks out of Sydney’s office, closing the door behind him, announcing to all his former coworkers, “Journalism died today, people!”
∞∞∞
“So the headline is, you’re in great shape,” Mary Margaret, the polling team manager, points out as she displays the next presentation slide.
Emma’s sitting at the meeting table between her Chief of Staff, Regina Mills, and Deputy Chief of Staff, Robin Locksley, trying to follow along with the presentation, but it’s difficult for Emma to focus when her stomach is full of butterflies. She still can’t believe she persuaded Gold to endorse her. Her head is spinning.
“Ninety-two percent, that’s good,” Regina comments.
“It’s very good,” Mary Margaret agrees exuberantly and moves on to the next slide, which shows Emma’s personality traits and how they were ranked. “Your sense of humor is eighty-two, which is solid.” Mary Margaret cocks her head to the side, as though she has to rethink that assessment. “It’s solid, but we wouldn’t mind seeing that number go up a few points… or more.”
Regina leans in to speak to Emma as she takes notes. “I’ll get some writing samples from some funny speechwriters.”
Emma sets her pen down and smiles. “Thanks, Regina.” She rests her elbows on the table, clasping her hands together as she reverts her attention to Mary Margaret and says, “But I’m really interested in knowing how people feel about my accomplishments.”
“Right, so we don’t drill down on specific policies, and that’s only because people don’t seem to care.”
Well, that’s a blow to the gut.
“With that said, if you could broker a deal that gets you out there talking about something you feel strongly about, that would be really great.”
“Well, that’s perfect,” Emma says enthusiastically, sitting on the edge of her chair. “We’ve been looking for an opening to start a conversation about the environment.”
“That sounds great,” Mary Margaret says with a grin, but Emma’s not sure if she’s being sarcastic and trying to hold back a laugh, or if she’s being sincere. “Now, if I may, onto your romantic life…” The brunette shows a photo of Emma and Graham Humbert smiling for the camera.
Emma refrains from rolling her eyes as she rests her chin in her palm. She doesn’t have a romantic life. One make-out session with a world leader she barely knows doesn’t constitute a romance.
However, the way Mary Margaret gushes as she looks at the couple in the photo, one would think they were actually a couple. “Remember the stir online when you and the Canadian Prime Minister were seated next to each other at the Global Business Forum?”
Emma nods, wishing she were taking a nap right now. She doesn’t care about improving her personality traits or starting a romance that will raise her numbers and appease the public. Although she is quite proud of her two highest scores, elegance and charisma, both ranked at over ninety-five percent.
“A relationship like that,” Mary Margaret points to the photo of Emma and Graham, “could push you into the high nineties.”
“High nineties? Wow,” Regina murmurs to herself, making note of it.
“That brings us to…” Mary Margaret switches to the next slide, showing Emma’s wave.
She knits her brows in confusion. “What’s wrong with my wave?”
“That kind of elbow movement is um…” Mary Margaret purses her lips as though she’s trying to figure out how to put it delicately, but then gives up, “well, it stresses people out.”
“You know what? It’s just an area of improvement,” Robin assures Emma after sensing the offended tone in her voice.
She supposes the movement in her elbow is a bit too much. It makes her look like a robot actually. “Fine, I’ll work on the wave.”
∞∞∞
“I’m not going to a fancy rich person party,” Killian declares after Victor proposed going to the World Wildlife Fund benefit in Philly tonight. Killian had shared the details with Victor and now they’re walking down Main Street discussing their plans for the evening. But Killian thought Vic was trying to make him feel better. Going to a fancy, rich person party will only remind Killian how rich he is not. He had something else in mind, something involving the closest bar and lots and lots of rum.
“Oh, come on, Jones. Don’t be so judgemental. There will be free booze and pandas and shit. People love pandas and shit.”
Killian shakes his head. “I just lost my job, I’m not really in the mood to mingle.”
“Fine, just sit at home and do nothing. Don’t hang out with your best friend and Boyz II Men.”
Killian’s ears perk up and he stops in his tracks. “Boyz II Men will be there?”
Victor stops walking and turns around, nodding. “Yep. They’re bringing their timeless blend of R&B and hip hop to the party. The fancy rich party doesn’t sound so bad after all, now does it?”
Not at all. He used to listen to Boyz II Men and other popular musicians in the nineties. But mostly Boyz II Men because it’s what he and Emma would listen to when she was over at his house babysitting him. He didn’t know Victor then; they met in college before Victor went off to medical school, but they have similar tastes in music. Which is how Victor knew exactly how to persuade Killian into going to a fancy, rich person party. “Okay, I’m in, mate.”
“That’s the spirit!” Victor pats Killian on the shoulder, and they walk again as Victor sings Motownphilly.
∞∞∞
“I’m starving. Why didn’t you power bar me?” Emma asks Robin as they make their way down the staircase, Regina and her Secret Service agents following behind them.
The Grand Room glitters like something out of a fairy tale, all candlelight and crystal chandeliers and gilt and sophisticated shine. The attendees glitter, the women dripping in diamonds and other precious stones and the men donning suits and black ties.
“I tried to, but you pushed my hand away,” Robin chuckles.
“Hopefully they don’t have skewered foods. I can’t eat skewered foods gracefully; I always look like a fucking cavewoman.”
“And there are cameras everywhere.” Regina points at a dutiful photographer who’s unobtrusively circling the perimeter of the room, taking pictures of as many of the guests as he can. “That would hurt your elegance score.”
“That’s my best score.”
When they reach the buffet table, Emma’s relieved to find that not all the food is on skewers. But even so, she’s so hungry, she may still look like a cavewoman trying to stuff as much food into her mouth as she can. “Cover me?”
“Of course.”
Regina and Robin both stand behind her like walls as Emma makes her first selection, grabbing a saucy meatball on a toothpick and bringing it to her mouth, being careful not to drip any sauce on her black dress.
“Oh my god, these meatballs are really good,” Emma mumbles through a mouthful of food.
“Graham Humbert is approaching,” Regina warns her. “He’s about nine feet away.”
“Shit,” Emma whispers and shoves another meatball into her mouth before wiping her lips and chin with a napkin. After swallowing it down and discarding the napkin, she spins around, offering a bright smile.
When Graham approaches her, giving her a once over, Regina and Robin disperse.
“Graham… how are you?”
“Good evening.” His lips twitch in a pleased smile as he takes Emma’s hand and presses a kiss to the back of it. “I am so sorry I missed you at the White House a few weeks ago,” he says in his thick, Irish brogue. He was born in Canada, but his parents are originally from Ireland, so naturally, he took on their Irish accent.
“Oh, it’s fine.” Emma waves off his apology with a flick of her hand. “Maybe next time?”
“Well, I—”
“If I may?” the photographer interrupts, holding up his camera.
“Aye, of course,” Graham turns toward him, and Emma relents, remembering what Mary Margaret said about how being seen with Graham would raise her score. She supposes if she’s going to be running for president, she must endure some things she may not like, in order to appease the public. Besides, it’s not like Graham is bad looking; in fact, he’s rather handsome with his curly brown hair and grey-blue eyes. But her hectic schedule doesn’t allow time for a romantic relationship.
Graham wraps his arm around her as she places a tentative hand on his back. The camera flashes a few times as Emma and Graham hold their smiles.
“One more,” Graham says, just as Emma’s about to pull away.
A few more successive shots are taken before Graham thanks the photographer and they break their pose, turning toward each other.
He inches closer, speaking intimately in her ear. “What do you say we get out of here? Grab a drink somewhere a bit more… private?”
The music changes from something soft and elegant to something more familiar. Very familiar actually.
Motownphilly.
Emma looks over Graham’s shoulder and her eyes light up when she sees Boyz II Men on stage. “Yeeeessss!”
When Regina told her about the World Wildlife Fund benefit, she failed to mention Boyz II Men would be performing.
“Yeah?” Graham asks, a big smile spreading across his lips.
While he’s thinking she was saying yes to his invitation, Emma had forgotten his presence as soon as she heard the music. Not that she would’ve accepted his invitation anyway. But now she sees this as an opportunity to avoid the question altogether. “Oh my God!” Emma scurries over to the crowd that’s gathering around the entertainers of the evening.
“Alright, alright, alright, alright. Philly, make some noise. Make some noise!”
The crowd whistles and cheers, and Emma is taken back to when she was a kid again. She was ten when this song came out—when she bought their CD—and listened to it constantly throughout her teen years.
Graham joins her on the dance floor as she moves to the music, not even caring about her elegance score. She literally hasn’t danced like this since high school, but she feels more carefree than she has in years and she hasn’t even had a sip of champagne. Stuffy music and champagne have never been her thing. But this… this is her music.
“Duty calls.” Graham’s deep voice in her ear makes her jump, and she spins around to look at him. “I’ll take a snow check on those drinks. Canadian for a rain check,” he winks.
“Okay,” Emma says, forcing a small laugh at his joke.
“Good evening,” he bids her, slowly walking away.
∞∞∞
“I feel very underdressed,” Killian grumbles as he peers down at himself. He’d never thought to change out of his blue jeans, t-shirt and black hoody, and here he is drinking champagne in a room full of rich people who are wearing tuxes and formal dresses.
“Don’t worry, you look fine,” Victor says as they make their way through the crowd.
Killian knows he’s just being nice though. Even Victor is wearing a dress shirt and blazer, but then again he blends in more with the other rich folk because unlike Killian, he’s not jobless or poor; he’s a doctor who makes more than a decent living.
Killian finishes his champagne and places the flute on a tray when a waiter approaches, and snatches another one, gulping it down like rum.
“Easy, buddy. You’re pounding those drinks pretty hard, don’t you think?” And that’s coming from Victor, who’s at the bar every night he’s not on call.
“I got fired today, mate.”
“I thought you said you quit?”
Killian’s gaze moves across the room as he turns his head to look at Victor who is standing next to him. “I was forced to quit because—” His words die in his throat, his jaw dropping when his eyes land on a gorgeous blonde dancing.
But not just any blonde. Killian recognizes her.
It’s the Secretary of State. It’s Emma Swan. His first crush. His first kiss.
He hasn’t seen her in person since she was eighteen, but she’s even more stunning as a grown woman. And she’s even more stunning than she is on television.
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Since many have asked, I wanted to update you about what happened as we left the President’s amazing acceptance speech at the White House. I’ve included a positive photo that I hope you will enjoy as well as links to tweets and stories to go a bit more in-depth on various subject discussed here.
Large groups of domestic bullies bent on terrorizing attendees (just as they’ve terrorized our cities and harmed innocent people) were waiting for guests at all exits as we left the WH grounds.
As we were leaving the South Lawn Thursday night, Secret Service directed us out via 17th street versus 15th Street. Why? The “protestors” were so out of control on 15th street they feared for our safety. The “peaceful protesters” had a guillotine and were bashing a Trump mannequin among other things.
https://twitter.com/breitbartnews/status/1299188784026783749?s=21
https://twitter.com/thebradfordfile/status/1299177932947161088?s=21
We couldn’t see any evidence that they were interested in peacefully protesting for social or racial justice on Thursday night. If that truly is what BLM is fighting for, they have a very odd way of trying to achieve it. And allowing Antifa thugs to be a part of their efforts is unconscionable.
As we left the property, we faced a rowdy, yelling, jumping mob. They yelled “f*ck you, you are f*cking stupid, chanted “shame shame shame,” threw scooters & trash at people, said we deserved death by guillotine, blocked the walking path by continuing to ride and stop their bikes in front of people to harass them, they rode their scooters close to use to call us names based on the color of our skin and their assumptions about our politics.
The world saw how they surrounded, intimidated, and assaulted Sen. Rand Paul and his wife. We saw how other couples were harassed and intimidated. As the only woman in our group, I also had different, sexual-assault type of barbs and threats thrown my way in addition to the hate we all got because we are Republicans and support President Donald J. Trump.
https://twitter.com/kelleyashbypaul/status/1299459157179891713?s=21
https://twitter.com/nieto_phillip/status/1299207662043828224?s=21
https://twitter.com/stillgray/status/1299196091565404161?s=21
We appreciated the police presence in DC on Thursday night. It is appalling to see the way these brave men and women are treated - being spit upon, having their faces and ears yelled into sometimes with a bullhorn, being pelted by projectiles and incendiary devices, being shoved, pushed, and baited while remaining strong and professional. Democrat mayors allow the people who work for them and their cities to be placed in danger because of the political decisions that are made in protected offices far from the mayhem.
Though we were verbally harassed and physically intimidated for the majority of the 1.5 mile walk that I did in heels (tripled because of road closures, blockades, and blood-thirsty mobs), we made it safely back to our hotel unscathed. And now Mike and I are more determined than ever to re-elect President Trump and Republicans all the way down the ballot. Seeing Democrat rule up close and personal is a powerful motivator!
The people mobbing us emanated hate and vitriol. Burning flags, bringing guillotines, feeling empowered by the Democrat “leaders” who have egged them on and the media who have belittled police and called riots “peaceful protests” when anyone with a brain can tell that looting, burning, scribbling hate-filled, anti-American/anti-police graffiti, and outright anarchy are not peaceful civil disobedience. ENOUGH.
This movement is terrorizing America as a means to force us to cower and comply. It’s an attempt to harass, intimidate, and implement mob rule. The problem is - they don’t seem to know WHAT they want. They’ve become the monsters they claim to hate.
The Left cries out that our country has a systemic racism issue: that many Americans automatically react, respond, and/or treat people differently because of the color of their skin. How does assaulting, intimidating, terrorizing and harassing people or destroying cities and suburbs help us stop race-based hate? IT DOESN’T!
We have work to do. The Left should call out the rioting & violence for what it is. The “leaders” in Democrat-run cities that have been taken over by Antifa and BLM across the country must stop the madness and get the help they need from the Federal government. People inciting others to “get strapped” and “burn this s**t down” while calling to “rip Trump out of that office over there, pull him out of that s**t; we ain’t about waiting for the next fu**ing election, we about going over and getting that mother fu**er”” & “it’s time for revolution” should be investigated by the Secret Service.
https://twitter.com/bernardkerik/status/1299677530732015616?s=21
https://twitter.com/redpillmac/status/1299664659633639434?s=21
America is a country of law and order - we are not a country where citizens cower in fear of the people who believe they are above the law, empowered by their political affiliation with the Democrats and their hatred of our exceptional nation. It’s up to us to stand tall, to remain sane, to act professionally and peacefully, to expose the lies of the Left and the media, and to lead our country through this tumultuous time so we remain the shining city that is essential to our world! #MAGA
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in the name of the old days
summary: it’s the last day of the year and you’re feeling nostalgic. you come across the twitter of the boy who used to be your best friend a few years ago, and decide to message him.
category: fluff, a bit of angst? maybe??, internet friend!mark
it was currently december 31, at half past one am, and you were scrolling on twitter
some chuckles here and there while reading your friend’s posts about timothee chalamet
you were about to close the app to go brush your teeth and prepare for bed
when your eyes wandered off and focused on another tweet
“almost 2020 and still no flying cars” read the tweet
from @/markly_
this made you sit straight in your mattress
you clicked on his profile
you two still followed each other
there weren’t a lot of recents tweets, so that’s why you figured you hadn’t come across the boy’s twitter sooner
plus; lately you weren’t the type to be so active on social media either
you mentally counted the years since you first met mark lee
it was 2019 (almost 2020) now and you guys had met in 2015
you had gotten involved in a drama with a one direction stan, you being part of 5sos stan twitter
and mark, little mix stan, had defended you
it was in the middle of the zayn and perrie scandal, so he assured both of your teams had to stick together to defeat one direction’s fans
you became mutuals after that
and you soon realized that mark had the tendency to initiate lots of twitter fights
often with the people that would bash perrie and her group
your friendship rose as the two of you took turns defending the other one on those enfrentations
you don’t know how but all of the sudden there was no day you wouldn’t talk to mark
you were both 16 at the time, you being older just by a few months
you guys would talk about everything and anything
and basically grew up together
you were there for him when school got hard and future scared him
he was there for you when you faced a pretty bad relationship
and you honestly considered him your best friend
sleepless nights with him on facetime were one of the things you looked forward to the most
hearing him talk about his day
him showing you a new song he learned on the guitar, or him playing some melodies and lyrics he composed himself every now and then
watching the same movie or show at the same time on your respective screens
struggling to press play together to match the exact second
“i totally knew he was gonna die”
“shut up you’re way ahead!!!!”
you had other friends at school, too
but mark was just mark
and you two had such a loving bond, you were so close you took him with you to everywhere you went
you just wished you had him closer
at least you were both from canada
him being from vancouver and you from quebec
you had made lots of plans about meeting in real life, and you genuinely believed they would come about
but it is true that time passes and people drift apart
you were about to begin college and made new friends
mark moved out to toronto
and gradually, the responses took longer
and the calls had kinda been left aside
until one of you just stopped replying
you honestly don’t remember who it was
but there isn’t really a reason, either
you just parted ways
and it’s fine, it’s human and natural and normal
but now looking at his profile picture: a polaroid of him hugging another boy
you felt as if a bucket of cold and frostbound nostalgia had been dumped over your head
you recognized his moles, and how he had the same smile
his header picture was a guitar
and it wasn’t the same he used to have, but something about him still liking music made you feel warm
it’s always astonishing to see how the life of a person who is no longer in yours just,,,
goes on
and you aren’t aware of a thing about their existence
or even think about them
so it’s almost as they don’t exist
but now you know mark still exists
and it’s so weird to think about how your lives had been so overlapped, so united
and now you didn’t know anything about him
the mix of reminiscence about this and the year ending
resulted in your impulsive fingers pressing the envelope icon in mark’s profile
you stayed like that for a few minutes, writing and deleting messages. the sentences you thought about never feeling enough
you sighed as you told yourself this would be the last attempt
“hi mark, i’m not sure if you remember me but i saw you on my tl and it made me want to check on you! maybe this message will disappear into thin air but i just wanted to try. i hope you’re doing well <3”
you stared at the blue bubble of text almost without blinking for a moment
maybe he didn’t want to talk to you, and it was okay. you stopped talking in 2017, almost three years had passed
you thought looking at yourself in the mirror while you brushed your teeth
you came back to your room and turned off your lights, ready to go to sleep
but when you grabbed your phone with the intention to charge it, you saw you had a twitter notification
“y/n! how could i forget about you? haha it’s been so long two years without talking. how are you? how’s life? tell me something”
an instant smile started growing upon your face
the way he texted was the same as before
and you missed his haha
two and a half hours into the night you felt as if you were stuck in 2015 all over again
you had always had this fluidity at the time of talking with mark
the conversation just,, bloomed
he told you he still lived in new york, but he was actually gonna move back to toronto in a couple of months
he was majoring in music and owned a soundcloud rap account, and he had gotten quite popular as well
you mentioned how you had changed majors
what started as you being a marketing management major ended up on you leaning towards philosophy
something that no one had seen coming
so you expected the same reaction from mark
“i can totally see it, you always liked to think and question everything a little too much”
and that comment made you feel thrilled in your stomach, to say the least
even after all these years
mark was probably the person who knew you the most
days passed
weeks, even
and what you thought was just a conversation remembering the old days and filling the other in on your life
just,,, never stopped
mark and you went back to talking every day
everything felt the same as it did before
because after all, it was the same mark. it was always mark
still, the day you had agreed on facetiming for the first time again you felt kinda nervous
what if you ran out of what to talk about? what if it was suddenly weird?
and when you picked up the call and found yourself face to face with a flustered mark you knew he felt the same
you both hesitated as to who would speak first
him being the one to break the ice
“hey y/n” he giggled
“wow, your voice has gotten deeper”
he laughed loudly at your honesty, making you laugh back
“your hair is shorter”
“i know right? it was so long, i just got fed up of it reaching my waist”
“i like it, it looks pretty” he paused “you look pretty”
and in that moment you wondered how your heart could be beating this hard at a blurry screen with poor connection
comments like that kept making an appearance as time went by, sometimes from mark and eventually from your part
and that was the only thing that differed from the relationship you used to have with the one you had now
was it flirting? you didn’t know
but you had never thought of mark the way you think about him now
“so? what do you think?”
you set the phone on your desk as you walked away and showed mark your white dress. you were on your way to a costume party one of your friend’s brother was throwing, and even though it was cliché, you couldn’t be bothered to think of a more ingenious costume than a traditional angel
mark took his time fixing his gaze on you, his eyes getting closer to concentrate on what the vague wifi let him
“i can’t recognize the costume”
“what do you mean? i’m literally wearing wings and a halo”
“could it be because you always look like an angel?”
“ayee mark that was cheesy”
“i know, i’m sorry” you both laughed
“but really, you look amazing. go and have fun babe”
then pet names came into play
you weren’t sure what you were doing, but flirting with mark was sweet and fun and innocent
you always found yourself wanting for more
you were yearning for mark, you wanted to see him, listen to him, touch him
and you didn’t know what to do with yourself
until one day he called you out of the blue, which startled you, since he always asked before calling
“hey! were you busy?”
“no no i’m just doing the dishes, what’s up?”
“okay, so you know how i’m moving to toronto in two weeks, right?” you nodded “well, i just managed to change my flight so i would go to quebec for some days before properly settling in toronto, you know since it’s not that far”
“you’re kidding”
“i’m going to visit you!!!!!!!”
he squealed in your ear and you squealed back, scaring your poor cat who was sleeping soundly
after some more yelling, the excitement died out a bit and you stayed in silence for just a few seconds
“i don’t really have a place to stay though” he snorted, embarrassed
“you can always stay with me, mark”
after some long and never-ending hours and days (you had seriously convinced yourself some wrinkles had appeared on your forehead from all the waiting)
it was finally the day you would see mark
it was currently 11 am, mark’s flight was at 1 pm and he would arrive at quebec at approximately a bit less than 3 pm
now, he was at new york’s airport taking care of all the travelling procedures
and you were cleaning up the same spots in your aparment for the fourth time in a row
to say you were nervous was an understanding
you felt like you were going insane
you barely had gotten any sleep the night before, not being able to defeat the crowding thoughts about finally meeting your long-time friend
(who now you wanted to be more than a friend and seeing him physically could totally help with that)
you arranged some lunch for you and your cat (magnus) and sat in front of the tv, wanting to find literally anything that would keep your mind occupied
luckily, it worked, and you let yourself lose track of time
until your phone beeped, indicating you had received a text
“i’m boarding now!! i’ll text you when i get there, can’t wait to see you”
“have a safe flight love”
you sighed dramatically and rested your arm against your forehead
magnus stared at you in confusion and boredom
“magnus, i think i’m going to die”
as promised, mark texted you as soon as the plane landed
you offered to go pick him up at the airport, but he denied, saying he had already scheduled a taxi
so now you were ready and dressed, going all over your apartment non stop
mark was texting you through all the taxi drive and updating you on his location, you growing more and more anxious as you knew he was getting closer
you went to the bathroom and as soon as you stepped out, a knock was heard on your door
it was soft and steady, and you opened your eyes widely when the realization of who the owner of the hand was hit you
you panicked, one last time
you even eyed your room window to check if you had any chance of jumping out and running away
but you took a deep breath and walked decidedly towards your door
you just had to remind yourself it was the same mark as always, and nothing could go wrong if there was him
thus, you opened the door
and the facetime pixels and instagram pictures could have never prepared you for how dreamy mark looked
you two stayed like that for a bit
just watching the other with shy eyes and smiles
you eventually snapped out of your trance and helped mark get his luggage inside
"it's a bit small but i hope you can make yourself comfortable"
"oh please it's perfect, don't worry" he gave you a reassuring smile before getting totally distracted by the fluffy ball of hair in your couch
"oh my god is that magnus!!!!"
after letting mark get comfortable and installed, you guys decided to take a walk and go over your apartment zone, showing mark all your favorite places and memories you had there
it was a bit cold and you were both tightened around your coats
eventually, it was getting late and more chilly
so you opted for going back to your place
as you walked there in a bit of silence, you could feel mark's body getting more close in proximity
you looked at him, his gaze fixed upon the path with a small grin on his lips
you got closer too
and you liked it
it was cold outside but when mark brushed against your body
canada has never felt more like summer
you guys were really close now
as you took step after step, your jackets made static sounds, rubbing against the other
you looked at mark and delicately touched one of his fingers with your pinky, as if asking for permission
he finally looked up from the way and focused on your eyes instead, breaking into a smile once again
he took a peek at your close hands and softly intertwined your fingers
both of your faces reddening, from the low temperature and the feelings that were growing in your stomach
when you got to your apartment you guys were still holding hands, but you realized you had to open the door with that one, and couldn't find the keys in your pocket
"y/n, you will have to let go of my hand to get the keys"
"that's the point. i don't want to"
"y/n, i'm freezing. please open the door i can still hold your hand when we're inside"
and yeah,,
he did
you changed into comfortable and warm clothes and prepared some hot chocolate while mark chose a movie in your laptop
when you entered the room, two mugs in hand
mark was lying on his stomach on your bed, his hand on his chin with his mouth a bit open while concentrating on the variation of movies netflix offered
you felt a shiver down your spine
he really was here
after taking a while to decide on a movie, or at least its genre, you just selected a random title
you turned off the lights and went back to your bed, getting under the covers
and you just felt warm
and whole
maybe more because of mark than the actual sheets that were meant to keep you heated
(he also held your hand the entire time, rubbing his thumb against your palm and drawing invisible figures on it)
your head rested on his shoulder and you went up as the same time his chest did with every breath he took
in some moment you stopped paying attention to the movie
your mind wandered off to thoughts about the boy, about how you have never felt this close to him. you felt like you were really inside his ribcage
still from his shoulder, you moved a bit so you could look at him
his face was glowing
yeah, the images and lights of the computer were reflecting on him
but you meant this boy glowed in the dark
he just had something in him
it was either rays of sunshine or neon paint
but he, in this frosty and amusing night within your bedroom walls, glowed on his own
he turned his gaze towards you too, and tightened the grip on your hand
you felt mark’s arm on your waist and he rearranged the position so you would be on his chest
hearing his heartbeat, it was music
mark always did music. and he himself was music too, his heart creating your new favorite beat
“markie”
“hm?”
“i’m falling asleep” you confessed with a drowsy voice, making him laugh
“let’s turn off the movie, shall we? we can continue it tomorrow”
he shut the laptop closed and placed it on your desk, quickly making his way back to the bed so he would hold you
you had prepared him another bed next to you, a mattress already covered
but he was showing no intentions of moving a muscle
“are you going to sleep here?”
“that was the plan, yeah” he giggled on your neck. you shuddered
“i made the bed just in case”
“i can go there if you prefer”
“no” pause “i want you here”
and he smiled proudly as he hid his face in the crook of your neck
you smelled nice, like coconut and vainilla and all his sweetest dreams combined
and with his arms around your waist he felt strong, like he could defeat anything that the world aimed at him
“do you think it was meant to be that we’re here after all this years? would you consider it destiny?” he thought out loud, gazing at you
“i can’t give you an answer right now”
“fine, philosophy major” he mocked, making you both laugh
“as a philosophy major, i don’t know. destiny is always a tricky thing to discuss”
“but as y/n, yeah, i believe it was meant to be”
he stared at you in awe
“i really want to kiss you right now”
#mark lee au#mark lee scenario#mark lee fluff#nct au#mark lee#nct fluff#superm mark#nct mark#nct#superm#fluff#angst
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*・༓☾ bloodshot // johnny ☽༓・*
chapter ii // masterlist
*pairing*
you x johnny + some jungwoo (and I guess Taeyong?)
*chapter rating* mature
*warnings* explicit sexual content, mentions of slurs and sexism (it’s another jungwoo smut chapter)
*word count* 3.03k
*disclaimer(s)* Once again I don't think nayeon, johnny, or lucas actually act this way, and this goes for everyone in the future
♥ ♡ ♥ ♡ ♥ ♡ ♥
"Again?" Your eyes lit up. Jungwoo has never had so much drive before.
"I wanna give you all my love and attention until neither of us can take it anymore." He caresses your cheek and you melt into him. Your bed fitted with brown silk sheets and a tan comforter became a sort of sacred fortress in the past two months. Jungwoo has been an angel through the come down of the incident.
"Jisoo told me you haven't been giving her as much attention, though." You lace your fingers with his, noting every mole and mark down his arm. Jungwoo sighs.
"I know... I just hate seeing you like this. If only she was able come and cuddle with us."
It's been a month since you and Jungwoo made it official. It didn't feel like anything changed, you wonder if open relationships always felt this way.
"You just want to watch Jisoo and I kiss." You roll your eyes. Jungwoo shoots up from the bed.
"You guys kiss?!" You snort at his baffled expression.
"No, and I prefer it that way. I'm pretty sure Jisoo prefers our relationships separate as well." You glance at him, knowing he knows you're right. He huffs in defeat before falling back onto the bed.
"Imagine how great the three of us could be, though." Jungwoo pouts, seemingly forgetting about round 4.
No matter how much he pouted, you and Jisoo were 100% platonic. You liked you guys' dynamic and neither of you wanted to change it.
Those two together almost made you forget about all the online ridicule you received. Almost.
You couldn't leave Taeyong. The others, no sweat off your back. Taeyong, however, was your first love. And although you had no more romantic feelings for him, you still loved him. Even if he was dating a girl who made your life a living hell. You could cut off Johnny and Lucas, but not Nayeon. If you had to do anymore streams with that devil you'd scream.
You groan as you die again. Good thing you were near spawn anyway. You hurry and gather your items before the ridicule commences.
"____ you're really fucking everything up. This must be why women are inferior." She purposefully puts a shit-ton of nasality in her voice when she talks to you. It makes you want to rip your ears off your head. Taeyong's laugh reads of disbelief.
"Nayeon why would you say that?!"
You just laughed awkwardly. How do their viewers not die of boredom? It's the same god-forsaken cycle. Nayeon makes a self-loathing sexist joke, Taeyong pretends to be shocked, the chat erupts in response. You wonder if men get off on women constantly stating that they're inferior.
"Ugh just fucking come with me." Nayeon's character sprints off before you could think.
"Wait a minute!" You jump and run at her. You switch to your iron sword, pretending to strike her from behind. Your mind wanders as you pretend to hit her. What has your life become? You almost jump at the sound of Nayeon receiving damage. She gasped like someone killed her dog, not someone accidentally hitting her on Minecraft.
"What the f-" You chut as Nayeon starts swinging her diamond sword at you.
"When did you get diamonds?" You try and jump and avoid her but she still hits you twice. You laugh uncontrollably as you try to get away. Taeyong reacts in disbelief, as usual.
"Girls! Stick to the plan!"
"I only have one heart!" You hurry and equip your shield to defend yourself.
"You hit me!" Nayeon exclaims. You notice the nasality is gone, and that you're having fun. Your smile nearly splits your face in half. You block her attacks and deal a good amount of damage until she dies. You laugh, tears in your eyes. You could get used to this, possibly finally have a female streamer friend?
You stop laughing when you notice how quiet it was. Then you hear sniffling.
"____ why can't you take a fucking joke? You're always so violent over fucking jokes!"
Then issnayeon went offline. She left the discord call. You and Taeyong were silent. Then Taeyong left as well. You were afraid to look at your chat. You clear your throat, suddenly very aware of the webcam pointed at your face.
"That was really odd, I guess I misunderstood the situation." You were beginning to get defensive, but you knew that wouldn't end well. Your eyes flicker over at your second monitor against your own wishes.
Flashes of 'cunt', 'snowflake', and most importantly, 'apologize' were visible from the chat. So you did apologize.
"I'm sorry to Nayeon and her viewers for being childish. I clearly misunderstood the situation," You paused, trying to gather your thoughts and blink away the tears stinging your eyes. You were such a baby.
"I'm also sorry for... uh... forcing my personal feelings and beliefs into a video game and onto Nayeon. I hope you guys understand where I'm coming from and accept my apology. Anyways, I think that'll be it for the stream tonight guys. I'll see you Wednesday."
You knew you weren't supposed to abruptly close the stream, especially without a closing screen. You just wanted to escape quickly. The stinging got worse until warm tears rolled down your cheeks. Everything that just happened was suddenly clicking. You were in for a shitstorm. More tears stream down your cheeks as you feel your phone buzz. You pick it up, blinking tears away.
"Jisoo..." Your voice quivered. Why were you so sensitive?
"Just breathe, okay?" Jisoo spoke calmly and with warmth but all you could think about was the aftermath of all this. Jisoo watched every stream she could, so maybe she saw.
"Could you see me tear up on camera? Was it obvious?" The panic in your voice was very evident?
"What? Who cares about that, ____ Nayeon's a bitch-"
"I do! Now I look like even more of a pussy, and everyone's gonna know that I'm sensitive-" You hiccup, trying not to sob.
"You're not a pussy. If anyone's a pussy here, it's Nayeon. You have to endure mockery from other streamers or your own chat every time you stream, and you keep persevering. Most of those people calling you a snowflake couldn't do the same." The passion in Jisoo's voice made you realize why you loved her. Why you were so glad you met her through Jungwoo.
"I don't want you to ever lose your fire for combatting sexism. Don't let these online idiots distract from the fact that sexism is our reality. You're not a pussy for not tolerating jokes about shit you deal with on a daily basis from people who would never understand."
Your sobs echoed throughout your room. You weren't crying because of the chat or Nayeon anymore, though. It was because of how thankful you were for Jisoo. Deep down, you didn't even believe the things you preached yourself. A small part of you envied Nayeon. The fact that she could laugh at those jokes and even say them herself.
You wondered how much easier it would be if you just... gave in.
You had just come back to streaming two months after the first incident, and now you had to take another break. At least until the internet cooled down. This all spurred from something so stupid, but it just enough for people to further their sexist narrative. Johnny was quiet about the incident, but Lucas was as loud as ever.
"Imagine being so butthurt about a joke." He tweeted. Your thumb hovered over the tweet. You shouldn't. You shouldn't read the replies. You really shouldn't read the replies.
You click the tweet and scroll to the replies, heart pumping.
"People have gotten so much more sensitive, can't say shit these days."
"She was about to cry... over a joke."
Hand trembling, you went to read more for some stupid reason. You were getting so worked up, why were you doing this to yourself?
"You guys scream "it's just a joke" but then cry yourself to sleep when a girl says KAM."
You perk up. People are defending you? That tweet was so close to passing the others in likes as well. You swiped more.
"I'm glad she speaks up against those unfunny assholes. I'm actually pissed she apologized."
"Nayeon is the butthurt one here. Boohoo someone hit you in a game."
"Your jokes aren't funny."
There were still tweets bashing you, but there was significant pushback. You smile. You like all the tweets defending you. This would probably bite you in the ass later, but you didn't care. You even retweeted one.
"I don't even like _____ but this 'controversy' is the dumbest thing to get headlines I've ever seen. You people need a hobby."
You had yet to see the headlines, but Lucas' tweets about the subject were probably the reason it was blowing up. Filled with a shot of confidence, you wanted to see who's name was trending.
At number two is issnayeon. Of course, Nayeon is a lot more popular so her name would be mentioned a lot more. Something else catches your eye near the bottom of the screen, however.
jonssuh.
Curious, you click the topic.
"Since we're talking about ____, can we talk about how you guys called her crazy and never questioned jonssuh?"
The tweet seemed to spark conversation, racking in a serious amount of engagement.
"jonssuh is lowkey the one who initiates all the sexist shit"
"____ is a psycho snowflake, that's why no one questioned jonssuh"
It was interesting to see how split the replies were. Within days there was a rift in the streaming community. You were either Team ____ or Team Johnny. You weren't sure how Johnny got dragged into this when it was about you and Nayeon, but it was truly fascinating.
Speaking of Nayeon.
"Out of everyone involved, she's receiving the most flack." You scan the board, wracking your brain for your next move. All you could focus on was the hum of Jisoo's air conditioner and dogs barking down the hall from her apartment.
"Good. I'm sorry but she started this shit. I don't hate the girl but man she has some issues she needs to work out. Hurry and move by the way! This is why we need a timer."
Every move seemed flawed by this point. You were too hasty in the beginning. You sigh before moving your Queen.
"Well I hate her." You settle back into your chair, folding your arms.
"Yeah. I know." Jisoo swiftly scoops up your queen. You groan, tossing your head back.
"I thought I really planned that out nicely." You cross your arms tighter as your expression soured.
"Sorry babes. Also, about Nayeon. She's a woman, too."
You look up at Jisoo, who's still looking intently at the board.
"Huh?"
"I'm just saying. She's struggling just as much. Hurry and go!"
You roll your eyes, refusing to process her hubbub. You had to focus on how to plan your game better.
For the most part, you ignored the online battle, especially Lucas' endless subtweets. You unfollowed both Lucas and Johnny after this whole debacle, which according to Jisoo only escalated things. It was all out war.
You unfortunately couldn't escape the headlines. Your name was synonymous with oversensitivity now, while Johnny's was synonymous with sexism. You eventually caved in and spectated the battle. There was a lot of support for both sides, but the criticism was loud. Especially well worded criticism from respectable sources.
Instead of calling you a snowflake, popular youtubers argued that your actions directly hindered people's right to freedom of speech.
As for Johnny, people were maturely stating how his actions, while funny to him, were extremely harmful and almost oppressive towards women.
Both sides argued that both your behavior had damaging effects on the streaming community. This was bad. You just wanted respect, goddammit.
The comments were filled with both of your supporters questioning their support of either of you. You sat in your gaming chair for what felt like hours, spinning in circles. What in the world could you do? Your phone began to buzz in your lap.
"Taeyong?" You pick up quickly after seeing the name. Taeyong hadn't talked to you since that day.
"No. Johnny."
Your shoulders drop.
"Why?"
"I don't know if you noticed recently but we're kinda fucked. And if you're referring to me calling on Tae's phone, you blocked my number so," Johnny sounded defeated. You couldn't even find joy in it, it was so pitiful.
"So you're calling me for..."
"We clearly both have some common ground to discover."
"I kinda disagree buddy." You chuckle.
"So what, you want to have a conversation over the phone?" You scratch at your head. What is going through this man's brain?
"No. I want to start collabing with you again. Just me and you."
You freeze.
"How that fuck would that fix anything? You think spending more time together will magically make us get along? You do understand why I don't like you, right?"
"Whatever- look we don't have to actually find common ground. We could fake it so we can stop getting fucked up the ass by youtube essays." Johnny was starting to get his usual pissed off tone.
"Okay, yeah." You shrug as if he can see you. You can hear him shuffling eagerly.
"Really?"
"Fuck no." You hang your phone up before tossing it on your bed. You could handle this on your own. You had a genuine purpose for your actions. Johnny was literally just selfish and using low hanging (offensive) fruit to get more subs. People would understand you.
You adjust your tripod, making sure it was angled perfectly. It was simple, you'd just sit down and be straightforward with your side of the story.
"Hey guys. I know there has been a lot of craziness going on, and I just wanted to explain myself."
You explained how the streaming community made you feel as a woman. How you didn't regret not giving in to the sexism. You felt confident that at least your supporters would come back around.
-
"You've refreshed YouTube at least 80 times already. I came over here to take your mind off of things." Jungwoo wrapped his arms tighter around your waist. The light from your phone reflected against your glasses. The video got one dislike immediately when you posted it, followed by three more seconds later. By now, there were hundreds of likes and a dozen dislikes. Your lip started to sting as you peeled the skin from it with your teeth. Your eyebrows were knitted tightly together as you skimmed the comments.
R slurs and snowflake's were a given, but most of them sympathized with you. You refreshed, scrolled, hearted, and repeat. As you scrolled more, the criticism came pouring in. You kept scrolling until you found what you were subconsciously looking for. Well worded, damning criticism.
"I love your content and have been watching you for a while, but if these people bother you so much, why do you still interact with them? I remember you saying a long time ago that you and Nayeon didn't get along very well... so why? I was waiting for you to cut all of them off but you never did. I'm glad the guys are gone but why is Nayeon still frequently streaming with you?"
Your initial response would be because of Taeyong, but you knew it was a horrible excuse. It just clicked that you were putting yourself through torture for a taken man who never even showed interest in you once. Did Taeyong really even care about you?
You physically shake the thoughts away before locking your phone.
"Finally." Jungwoo swipes the phone from your hand and tosses it away. Before you could protest, he tenderly kisses your lips. His lips were so soft. With tentative touches, he turned you to fully face him. He threads his fingers through the nape of your hair, deepening the kiss.
"Focus on me, okay?"
He moves one of his hands down your body. He slides his hand under your shirt, leaving goosebumps in its wake. You gasp and flinch at how cold they are. He smirks against your lips, hand squeezing your clothed breast. You sigh against his mouth before nipping at his bottom lip. He slips his hand under your bra. He pinches your erect nipples and you hiss.
With his other hand he cups your panty clad core. You grind into him, encouraging him to go further. He complies silently, sliding his hand into your panties. He sighs blissfully at how wet you are. He curls two fingers into your slick hole. They slip right in, the tips of his fingers brushing deliciously against your walls. Goosebumps crawl up your arms as you clench Jungwoo's arm.
Your senses are clouded as you focus on his touch. He felt so good. You bite your lip as you squeeze his arm harder. No man has ever made you feel this way. You revel in the way his fingers brush perfectly against your g-spot. Why were you worried about Taeyong anyway?
Taeyong. You furrowed your brows, trying to rid thoughts of him. The way tears filled his eyes when he laughed too hard. His intoxicating smell. His soft skin and hair. His kind eyes. His comforting touches.
"____?"
"Why does she still hang out with Taeyong and Nayeon?"
He hasn't been answering your calls or texts...
"Taeyong is like poison to her, she should cut him off."
He never defended you...
"Taeyong is ruining ____."
Did Taeyong ever really care about you?
"____! Are you okay?"
You feel numb as Jungwoo grips your shoulders. He tries to look into your eyes but you keep avoiding him.
"Let's go get cleaned up okay?"
"I think I'm still in love with Taeyong." Tears spill down your cheeks. You've cried more in the last few months than you have in at least a decade. It seems to all tie back to Taeyong somehow. Jungwoo was still for a second.
"Come on. Let's go clean up."
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ 끝 ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
#nct#nct 127#nct u#kpop#jungwoo#taeyong#johnny#smut#johnny suh#johnny seo#kim jungwoo#lee taeyong#nct smut#nct 127 smut#nct u smut#kpop smut#jungwoo smut#johnny smut#kpop johnny#kpop nct johnny#kpop johnny smut#kpop nct johnny smut#kim jungwoo smut
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Reflection “Essay” #2
Hey everyone! I just wanted to take some time this week and talk about something that I think is extremely important, so buckle up, because this piece is kind of long.
Activism is something we encounter in our everyday lives, whether it be in social media, the news, or something ordinary like laptop stickers. Most recently, Black Lives Matter was under the spotlight (as it should) in the wake of America’s track record of police brutality and George Floyd’s death. Unfortunately, the movement that was fueled by public outcry and outstanding shows of allyship in the early summer months has largely vanished.
The voices of many celebrities and influencers on platforms Instagram and Twitter have gone silent, moving on as the news turned away from BLM protests despite the thousands of people that continued to rally around the country and the world. As we wrap up election season and move into December, what the US is focused on now is the soon-to-be former POTUS and other political news. (My point is that the world of media has largely deemed BLM “no longer relevant” despite the ongoing struggle BIPOC folxs continue to face even after thousands of protests nation AND worldwide.)
To all the people who posted black squares with the hashtags #BlackoutTuesday and #BlackLivesMatter, where are you now? Where is the support, the public outcry that had been so loud in June? Why do civil rights only matter when they’re relevant in the media, when you can score easy clout from it?
I’m sure most of them had their hearts in the right place, but the fact remains true that they fell victim to ‘ally theater’, a term that Anderson and Accomando credit Princess Harmony Rodrigez for coining. The two authors go on to say, “The concern here is about activists who focus on performing an identity for an audience of disadvantaged folk rather than doing the hard and often unseen work of social change.” (P 713) and “To get out of the surface-level ally theater loop, white people need to challenge other whites about racism—even when no one else is watching.” (P 714) in their article The Pitfalls of Ally Performance.
That’s where many people fail the first step of being an ally; they mistakenly believe that for a month of sparse posts concerning awareness, they gain the privilege of being an ally. They forget that allyship is a title that needs to be earned. It’s not enough to play activist for a month and then move on with your life—to be an ally, you must continue to be an activist, even if that’s something as simple as shopping at BIPOC small-owned businesses instead of Amazon. (Here’s a little help for those of you who don’t know where to start: 42 Black-owned beauty brands to shop at instead of Sephora, and 108 Black-owned businesses you can check out.) You have to acknowledge the hard work of POC the exact same way you praise white celebrities and influencers for being ‘woke’. A fantastic example is Harry Styles.
For the 2019 Met Gala, Styles showed up to the red carpet in heels and a sheer black Gucci blouse. This made fans go nuts; they praised him for being a camp icon but glossed over equally stunning outfits like Billy Porter’s golden, winged ensemble (who was carried in on a litter!!! by SIX MEN!!!) or Lena Waithe’s suit. This year fans ran to social media again, this time to gush over the photo spread of him in a dress, thanking Styles for ending toxic masculinity (yes this was a Tweet I read with my own two eyes), congratulating him on defying gender norms, and completely forgetting about others who did it before him.
Male and AMAB (assigned male at birth) non-binary stars like Billy Porter, Jared Leto, Ezra Miller, and JVN are only a handful who’ve appeared in public in dresses and/or skirts before, making it unfair for people to heap gratuitous praise onto Styles’s photoshoot. I’m not trying to bash him or anything and I think that cover was gorgeous, but you can’t be an ally while you idolize Harry Styles for wearing a dress but ignore POC/queer folx who did too.
Now, the second topic I wanted to address: a second helping of fake allyship, this time in the corporate realm.
I love June, but it’s also a mentally exhausting month queer individuals who are sick and tired of fake allyship. Cisgenderists crawl out of the woodwork to whine about ‘straight pride’ as if they don’t have enough of it, influencers capitalize on Pride’s popularity to promote their brand, and large corporations break out the rainbow merch to make a pretty penny off the same people marginalize the other eleven months of the year.
June is for people like me to celebrate our identities together, whether it be at a public Pride event or in the privacy of our own homes. It is not for big businesses to slap rainbows on their merchandise and boast false claims of LGBTQ+ support when corporations like Walmart and Starbucks have done nothing at all to support the message or the mission of Pride.
Building an Abolitionist and Trans Queer Movement With Everything We’ve Got by Bassichis, Lee, and Spade writes “transgender and gender-non-conforming people are repeatedly abandoned and marginalized in the agendas and priorities of our “lead” organizations” (P743) and I couldn’t agree more. The fact of the matter is that under this capitalist regime, queer individuals are just another tool for the privledged elite to take advantage of.
Mega corporations claim to be on our side for a month, playing at queer allyship with rainbow beer cans and happy ads that feature more rainbows and scripted proclamations of LGBTQ+ support, but disappear just as quickly come July.
Certain celebrities tweet during Pride, garnering the applause of the public and cause people across social media to ‘stan’ celebrities that post “Happy Pride!” just for the shallow allyship it grants them. And it’s so normalized for public figures to post all month long about Pride, and suddenly stop in July that we don’t question it.
Donald Trump occasionally preaches about his support of the queer community (which we all know is a joke) and how he’s “the first president to openly support the LGBT community” despite the fact that he gutted LGBTQ+ legislation and his terrible track record concerning queer folx. If he really was a queer ally then why, as Bassichis, Lee, and Spade say, is there “ no inheritance, no health benefits from employers, no legal immigration status, and no state protection of our relationship to our children.”?
That’s why I want to put the spotlight on a game called The Last of Us: Part II. It’s a post-apocalyptic survival horror game so it’s the last place you’d expect to find LGBTQ+ representation, but the main character is a lesbian who has a (Jewish) girlfriend and has an Asian (not white!!) transman, along with another character I strongly believe is aromantic and/or asexual. Their character arcs tie into the story well despite many fans calling out the game developers for pandering to the queer community, and the exhilaration I felt when I saw myself (mostly) represented in a character (who was voiced by an Asian transman!) is unparalleled.
They didn’t have to include any LGBTQ+ content or accurate representation, could have left the main character’s sexuality presumably heterosexual, but they went where most bestselling games don’t, because they’re genuine allies. They brought in voice actors who were Black, Asian, and Latinx to voice characters who were Black, Asian, and Latinx.
That’s what we need more of, not trendsetting celebrities and people who say trans rights just to feel better about themselves.
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Killstream w/ Onision 3/30/2020 - Summary Part 1
Re-Upload
(Unless specifically stated, everything written is from Greg / James’ words. Parenthesis are my notes/thoughts.):
Greg / James asks what the host’s relation to him online is. Host says none really. Host says he talked about Greg on stream a few times. (Host doesn’t introduce himself so Idk what to call him.)
Greg asks if host thought the Kombucha video was real. Host says no, they played it on the show. Greg says Hansen thought it was real. Says there is a video of Hansen at his house realizing it was all bullshit. (Why would he show up to your house if he thought those videos were real when the plot line had you divorced and homeless at that point?)
Greg says grooming is only when you get someone to do something illegal. Says someone on his discord told him that.
Sarah said her mom beat her, so they brought her in their home. She thought something was going to happen and Greg had to get in through her head it wasn’t. Kai was dating Billie. Sarah got so upset when she saw Kai and Billie kissing in a theater that Greg had to pull her aside and tell her she's part of the house, but not part of the relationship. He wanted her to still feel included, but know there’s no future for her.
When she found out nothing’s going to happen, she sent a text saying if Greg found out how she felt, she’d be kicked out. He says he only found out about this later on down the line.
He was mean to her, like Meg Griffin. Someone jokes “treat them like dirt, they’ll stick to you like mud.” Everyone laughs, but Greg. He says no.
He says one time she asked him to c-m in her when she was 18 1/2, but he was upset because the relationship wasn’t supposed to be just himself and Sarah. He didn’t want to have babies with her. (He just jumped right into that. I swear I didn’t skip anything.)
She said she’s only going to sign an NDA if they fuck her. He can’t believe they were put in this situation.
Sarah was pushing so hard to get with Kai. It’s hard because she was constantly trying to “UwU” Kai and Billie left a gap when she left. Greg stopped treating Sarah like shit because she was an adult. She knows she have a chance now she’s an adult and has shown loyalty. He was trying to find someone to make Kai happy.
He told Sarah there was no potential for her to be with himself if Kai doesn’t want her. Greg says Sarah kept trying to kiss Kai and one day when she was 18 1/2, she planted a kiss. Kai jumps back and made a weird face. Sarah says “fuck”. (He’s skipping the part where he told Sarah to kiss Kai. He admitted to this in one of his 30+ rambling videos from January.) Someone asks if Sarah was thinking about that kiss since before she turned 18. Greg says he doesn’t know. (He just said before she wanted to be part of the relationship since she was 16. He even acknowledged this publicly back then.)
Kai tweets about Grey from Grey’s anatomy being hot and Sarah was upset, like Kai was cheating. Sarah and Kai have a falling out.
Ayalla comes out and says they groomed Sarah. At that point the only thing that happened was Sarah planted a kiss on Kai. Greg asks Sarah to make a video and to be honest. After he saw the video she made, he realized how much she liked Kai. She would say people that trashed Kai were terrible people.
He says Sarah tells them she was raped by a black man. Greg’s hero complex takes over and he wanted to help. She flew back out and she proposed an actual relationship.
Greg says he told Sarah when she was 17 he was shitty to her because he wanted her to stay away from him. Late 2018. They were more chill after that, but he didn’t want to explore the idea of a relationship until Kai approved. It was a mess because Kai didn’t feel like it was appropriate.
Greg says at this point she hadn’t lived with them for a while. She lived in her own state, had her own car, job, etc.
Greg hates that he works constantly and Kai doesn’t have someone to spend time with. (I hate this excuse so much. If that was the case why does he always get involved in the relationships?)
He says Sarah put her mouth on Kai’s genital region the first time. The second time, Sarah shoved her boob in Kai’s mouth. Kai said he tried not to vomit. Kai laid there and did nothing both times except kiss. (He’s not mentioning he was also part of these incidents.) Kai was upset and teary. It was horrible for Kai so it’s whack when people make fun of him for crying. He’s the one that suffered. Greg says it’s not going to work and Sarah went back to her life.
He says there’s a leaked text of him arguing about virginity. He says he was talking about vaginal and mouth virginity. He says it was stupid. He told Kai he took her mouth virginity ? He felt bad for Sarah and was telling Kai he wasn’t being fair to her.
He comes up with idea where he can be with Sarah while Kai figured out if he wants to be part of the relationship. Sarah was cool with it and Kai told them 7 days only. If it doesn’t work out, they’ll all move on. They lasted 2 days. After the cum inside me thing, he couldn’t handle it.
They saw Aladdin together and she kept looking up at him like she wanted to make out. He was really irritated. She was guilt tripping him for not making out with him. This combined with the c-m thing, he realized Sarah doesn’t give a shit about Kai. Otherwise she wouldn’t be so desperate for his attention.
She accused him of using him for sex. He asks then why would he only be with her for 2 days when they had 5 more?
They weren’t allowed to have vaginal stuff. He weaseled around it by having his hand in front of his junk. Says if you give him an inch, he will find a way to manipulate it.
Greg says the only instance of anything underage was when he was with Kai when he was 17, but Kai was able to consent because of their state laws. (Shiloh was also 17.)
The police showed up with Shiloh because they thought they were making porn in their hotel room. He was just a Youtuber with a tripod. The police looked through his laptop and said he was fine. He thinks this Hansen doesn’t want to talk to him because Greg has a huge history of not breaking the law.
The host asks about the hand thing. (Greg goes into detail. I don’t want to write about that, sorry.)
Later on when Sarah was at the airport, she was crying saying she just wanted a boyfriend. He asks, if she just wanted a boyfriend, what the fuck was she doing? She didn’t have it through her head she would be dating two people. (I don’t understand this argument. They both would have been her boyfriend, no?)
Someone asks if Greg has time for a job with all this relationship stuff. Greg says he’s a Youtuber so he makes his own hours. (So he can make time for thirds, but not Kai?)
Greg says Sarah turned the relationship into being with one person instead of the other and tried to get pregnant.
When Sarah was at the house they’d hand out together, talk about memes, group wrestle. He would take them both on, but win every time.
Greg says he doesn’t want to be with anyone under 25 now. (What happened to his I only want to be with sex dolls plan? Does he have his eye on someone?)
Greg says he criticized people with BPD and Sarah lost her mind. Greg says he thought he had BPD before, but you have to be diagnosed. He says Sarah was diagnosed twice, but was underage. Her symptoms freaks her out. He asked her to give him a baby and she made a gremlin face while holing the baby.
Someone asks how she got the baby. He said she would help out a lot. He says before she was 18 she would do everything she can to win them over, but nothing was going to happen. He wasn’t interested in it because she was underage.
After he said he was done with stoners and people with BPD, she made a tell all livestream.
She blackmailed them into having sex with the NPA, so he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to talk publicly about it. The host asks about the blackmail. Greg says she told them she could destroy their lives. The host says he can’t imagine how. Greg says that’s why he didn’t take it seriously and it was a “ha ha” thing at the time. Greg says he had a Patreon member who visited and some of his friend sign an NDAs. He wished he made one with Cyr so they wouldn’t attack each other publicly. They could still be friends. That taught him to have his friends sign NDAs. The host makes fun of the NDAs and Greg says it’s common for celebrities to have people sign sex contracts to prove it was consensual in court.
When he asked Sarah to sign the NDA, she said only if she gets what she wants, implying sex. At the time he thought it was kinky. They warmed up to each other because everything that happened that day and the vibe was good. (Did he just admit it wasn’t blackmail then?)
Way down the line he slept in his garage because he was afraid she was going to kill him because people with BPD give off a certain vibe when you piss them off. They go from extreme love and hate.
Says he went through that with Shiloh a lot. She would have mental breakdowns and he would have to call the cops. She wouldn’t leave him alone in his room and body slammed the door. She kept bashing it open. It was hard for him to hold it closed because she was 180 lbs and 5′ 0″.
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The Most Wonderful Time of the Year
Read on ao3!
Word Count: 2000
Summary: Bucky is moving from the couch, carefully detangling himself from the pile of limbs him, Clint, and Tasha had become, before he really registers the soft knock on the door. Clint is half asleep, curled around Tasha like a koala bear relishing in the feeling of her hand carding through his freshly washed hair, while old Christmas reruns of dog cops play on the big living room tv.
A/n: Merry Christmas to the wonderful and darling @cuddlememerrick! I hope you enjoy dear! Much love from your no so secret santa!
The pairings in this are pretty vague, its open to interpretation for whoever you want to be together.Or if you want them all to platonic, there is no real mentions of romantic relationships. I tried to keep the reader gender neutral but I may have missed some pronouns or descriptions so if you see any let me know! anyways!
HAPPY READING!
________
Bucky is moving from the couch, carefully detangling himself from the pile of limbs him, Clint, and Tasha had become, before he really registers the soft knock on the door. Clint is half asleep, curled around Tasha like a koala bear relishing in the feeling of her hand carding through his freshly washed hair, while old Christmas reruns of dog cops play on the big living room tv. He grunts softly when Bucky moves him over, but doesn’t give anymore than the grunt and nuzzles back into the brushing fingers over his scalp. Bucky understands, he feels all soft and cuddly in the god awfully ugly Christmas sweater Clint had brought over and made him wear. He isn’t complaining too much, it’s really soft.
The door swings open with a loud jingle, damn bells Clint had put on every door as “decoration”. Why does it need to be made known that he is opening literally any door in the house, including the bathroom door. Clint really gets into the Christmas spirit and Bucky may glare at him every time he ends up underneath a doorway, because yeah, every doorway also has mistletoe hanging from it and Clint always catches him and kisses his cheek. It makes it really hard for Bucky to keep up with his grinch-y attitude when Clint does nothing but make him smile all day long.
“Hey, I didn’t think you got back until next week?” Bucky doesn’t hide his surprise when he opens the door to see you, and he is clearly happy to see you home finally. It’s been two months since you left on a minimal communication op. Nobody had heard from you in the last two weeks, and there had been no mention of you coming home early. Nevertheless, he is happy to see you and knows that Clint and Nat will be too. The four of you are nearly inseparable.
You look a little worse for wear, a bruise or two forming on your cheek and around your eye, favoring your left leg and heavily leaning against the doorway. You leaning, seems less out of pain and more out of exhaustion, both physical and emotional. The question he asked nearly a minute ago finally reaches your brain, and you nod. It’s about all you have the energy to muster up as a response. Really you should've just gone to your own place, taken a quick shower and crashed for the next four days but you couldn’t override the part of you that needed to see them, that needed to have company after two very long months being completely alone and isolated.
Bucky doesn’t even hesitate, he knows just what you need. He bends over and scoops you into his arms, bringing you over to the couch and plopping you down between Clint and Nat. He disappears for a minute and comes back with another one of Clint’s ugly sweaters, strips you of your tac vest, and carefully replaces it with the soft fabric of the sweater. He throws another look to Nat and they do their freaky “silent conversation with their eyes” thing and she kisses your cheek before she runs off down the hallway. With Nat’s departure and Bucky off doing other things again, Clint attaches to you like a sleepy, happy parasite, and you can’t help but join him.
You don’t even realize you’ve fallen asleep until you start to wake up to Clint hovering over you with a washcloth, carefully wiping away the dirt and grime on your face. Apparently while you were out, he took the liberty of brushing your hair out and twisting it into a neat braid that pulled everything from your face. You have no idea how he manages, but anytime Clint plays with your hair, it becomes so soft and all you want to do is run your fingers through it.
The apartment smells different than when you fell asleep, like chocolate. It smells like Bucky’s amazing chocolate chip cookies, and when you see him appear from the kitchen with a plate freshly baked cookies you can’t help the grabby hands you make at him. “Are those…?” There isn’t much need to finish the sentence, by the smile on his face Bucky knows what your about to ask and his dopey grin answers the question. He nods, before he goes back to grab drinks.
Tasha glides into the room a moment later, three large pizzas and what looks like little jars of black and grey goop balancing precariously on top. With one hand, she grabs onto the jars and blindly throws them your direction and Clint barely moves to catch them both easily. Nat drops the pizza onto the coffee table, opening the first box and grabbing a piece. She holds it out for Clint and he cranes his neck to take a bite before grabbing one of the jars (of what, you haven’t figured that out yet but you’re too tired to try.) “Bucky, come on, hurry!” You snort quietly when you hear Bucky huff his way back into the room. “Yeah, yeah, I’m comin’.”
“What's going on? I think I missed a lot in my impromptu nap.” Clint beams with his blindingly bright smile. “You did. Face masks, comfort food, a good christmas movie,” He puts his hand by his mouth and whispers not so quietly, “and a little alcohol.” You hum happily and make grabby hands in the direction of the alcohol and cookies Bucky brought in pointing at him and saying “You. Are my favorite.”
“Hey! What the hell! This was all my idea.” You raise an eyebrow at Clint and he squawks indignantly. “It was!” You can’t help but laugh, pulling your legs from where they were folded underneath you and wrapping them around Clint like he’d been doing earlier. “You’ll always be my favorite, hun.” He winks at you, placing a sloppy kiss on your cheek. Bucky is now grabbing Nat and plopping them both down on the couch at your back, forming a similar cuddle pile to earlier, now just with the addition of you.
It’s been two long months of being alone with no one to talk to, none of Clint’s big smiles and dumb dad jokes (and most importantly, no Lucky.), none of Tasha’s softness that’s reserved only for the people she loves, none of Bucky’s giant hoodies and his amazing cooking. And maybe two months isn’t that long but it felt like it, and you want nothing more than to be a little buzzed and curled up in between all of them.
Your peaceful train of thought is interrupted when Clint drops a glob of freezing cold black gel onto your face and starts to spread it around. “God, Clint! That’s freezing!” He just shrugs and smooths it out across your face. Behind you, Tasha is spreading the grey gel on Bucky, who is complaining just as much as you are. This stuff is really really cold.
Luckily for you, once Clint and Nat finish lathering your faces in the masks, they turn to do it to themselves and Clint spends the entire time complaining much louder than you had. It’s karmic justice, and really, it’s the little things in life that make you happy.
Clint has yet to tell you what the movie is but when he gets up to get it started, you realize why. He picked Die Hard. You and Tasha have been arguing with Clint and Bucky for months that Die Hard is not a Christmas movie, going as far to tweet Bruce Willis about it. The boys still refuse to believe that it’s not a christmas, even after Bruce Willis replied with “It’s a goddamn Bruce Willis movie, boys. Not Christmas.”
“Really Clint?” He nods, a mischievous smile on his lips before pulling you tight against him again. “Hmm, hand me a piece of pizza?”
______________
The four of you watch the movie in relative peace, Bucky, -weirdly enough- is the one to cause the ruckus. When the timer you’d set for the face masks goes off, well, let’s just say taking Bucky’s off was a bit more painful than the others.
“Tash?” She looks up at him, immediately realizes her mistake. Her eyes are wide and a bit sympathetic but she is doing a poor job at hiding her amusement. Bucky sighs. “This stuff isn’t supposed to go in my beard is it?” Nat sputters and shakes her head and Bucky is whining again because they have to peel it off and that shit hurts when it’s not stuck in facial hair. Beyond your laughter, you do sympathize.
But it’s an odd picture to see the fearsome Winter Soldier tearing up while pulling off his face mask.
It takes him almost 20 minutes to finally pull it off, and by the end, it hurts so bad, he makes Nat just rip off the last of it around his eyes. Which of course, was a big mistake. The moment it came off Bucky threw his face into Tasha’s chest and you could hear the litany of curses that bled from his mouth. Clint couldn’t hear it, he’d taken his aids out a while ago, but he could relate, he’d done it the first time him and Tash had done face masks.
____________
It’s nearly midnight when you start to drift to sleep again, Tasha is asleep, her head in your lap. You’ve bashed through four Christmas movies. Well three, and Die Hard. Your entirely too full on pizza and cookies. You’re sure you ate through 3/4 of Bucky’s cookies. But it’s nice, it leaves you with this warm and fuzzy feeling that’s entirely too ironic with the holiday cheer surrounding you.
Clint took your hair out from the braid after you pulled off the face masks and was now running one hand through the hair again, carefully pulling out the flecks of the mask that had gotten in your hairline. It was probably what was lulling you to sleep. You fight the strong pull and press your lips to the calloused skin of his palm, at least where you can reach. You pull your hands from Natasha’s grip and sign as best you can to Clint, Thank you. I didn’t realize how much I needed this. He only hums deep in his chest and presses his lips to your forehead. You reach across Tash and poke Bucky’s shoulder, who is clearly about to crash hard, his eyes flutter close only to spring back open every few seconds and you know the only reason he is staying awake is the bet he made with you and Clint that he would be the last to fall asleep. He is pretty notorious for being the first to fall asleep during team movie nights.
He won’t ever admit it, but it’s easier for him to fall asleep surrounded by the team and people he trusts then when he is alone with himself. Though it’s extremely rare to find any of the four of you without each other. Whoever is out on an op, it is guaranteed to see the others in together, cuddling or sleeping, or really just spending time together. If the boys are out, its you and Nat, if it’s you and Tash, the boys find comfort in each other. It’s a nice balance for a group of touch starved assassins.
You sign to him as well, unwilling to break the air of comfort by using your voice, thank you. Now, sleep. He gives you an incredulous look, silently telling you he won’t lose the bet. I don’t care about the bet. Sleep.
You should get everyone at least to the bed or somewhere more comfortable than the couch, you know you are going to wake up with a kink in your neck and most of your body sore but you don’t care, it’s just how it is and you know none of you would ever change it for anything.
#clint barton#Bucky Barnes#natasha romanoff#secret santa#Merry Christmas#Happy Holdiays#marvel#x reader#fluffy#and#soft#the most wonderful time of the year
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ICYMI - some Chris news
so hahahaha as always I camp on weibo on the days before the fanmeet and during the fanmeet - and anyway so something happened yesterday in case anyone is interested to know:
chris just added yesterday on his instagram profile that ‘modification and reupload, and creation of any products (with his photos) without permission isn’t allowed’
so my first thought is - totally fair, about time, i mean that’s what we all do with our own uploads right, and copyright issues - he does own his damn photos and whatever he says about it, it’s totally fine
and then what erupted on weibo was:
1. strangely, some of his fans started to blame his manager? like i don’t even mean like calling her a bitch or anything (although there was that) but all out in like 100 words and more saying that she’s a really incompetent manager, and how did someone like her ever get to manage chris, and how she’s chasing away all of chris’ fans and you get the drift - basically okay so i’m sure they’ve been unhappy with his manager (for whatever reasons) for a while now and the fans claim that she’s been terrible all along but gosh the point is, they started bashing her online - i mean, it takes A LOT OF MENTAL ACROBATICS to link that disclaimer on his instagram post to her - this is so reminiscent of the bashing on director lee over ep 17 gosh
2. AND TAGGING CHRIS ON WEIBO ON THESE POSTS BASHING HER?!!!! okay literally NO ONE knows what’s going on between him and his manager, and unless you know him personally you literally got no right to talk shit AND TAG HIM about the woman who literally takes care of his every job and gets him resources and supports him at events and every shooting ever - apparently she left her previous mgmt company to follow chris to this new company if I didn’t read it wrong
3. and then, some fans started bashing CHRIS HIMSELF? i saw this one weibo message listing out like 6 point on what he did wrong with posting that disclaimer, even going as far as to say “do you know why you don’t have as many likes on your uploads as jake’s? it’s because you do stuff like this and you don’t know how to market yourself and keep pushing your fans away, and also because u have a shitty manager” (something along these lines, you get my point) - and not only that, they tagged chris in that bashing note like... what’s the point?!!! the worst thing was they started to say that he’s not being a very nice person and that obviously with this he doesn’t care for the fans etc. (and come on we all know what kind of person chris is)
4. some fans took offence because - when a lot of fansite admins give out free stuff to other fans at fanmeets, they of course do take some of the photos from his social media and andy’s and kenny’s and jake’s to print photocards etc. and idk why some fans started to say that basically the disclaimer means he has a problem with these freebies being handed out with his photos on them etc., and because of this they say him and his manager are purposely chasing away his fans (goshhhhh), even at the taipei fanmeeting apparently some fans also, after seeing the freebies being given out, were also concerned about copyright issues but i mean, there wasn’t a huge hoo-hah about it because this happens all the time and the fansite admins are doing this mostly for free
5. so chris was in hangzhou when this all happened right, i think he literally just arrived in hangzhou when the comments started appearing, and a lot of other fans were like ‘you guys know that chris likes to hang out and read through all the messages on the history3 topic board on weibo right, why are you guys putting up so many hurtful messages?’- if you guys dont have weibo, it’s like china’s version of twitter but with like topic boards? so history3 has a huge topic board there and if you mention it your ‘tweet’ appears there
6. and lo and behold, during today’s fanmeet, the host actually put aside some time during the talking segment so that chris could explain himself (think it was nice of the host to do that and the way he said it even tho chris might have asked for the opportunity to explain himself) - and omg his face-
he LEGIT starts off by saying ‘so i think some of you have misunderstood me so i wanted to take the opportunity to talk about it’ and he looked so pitiful and sad and looking like he was trying not to cry (okay i don’t think he was gonna cry but he did look a little distressed but had to smile through it)
and then he clarified that he’s very happy for his fans to reupload his photos, “to photoshop away that pimple on his face” etc., that’s totally fine (so basically saying that the disclaimer was never aimed at these fans)
he heard some rumors that people have been selling stuff with his social media photos on them and basically some fans might get cheated by these people right
and thus, the whole debate on weibo was for nothing because he’s concerned that fans are getting cheated and he was kind of taking steps to ensure that no one would pay money for basically non-official merchandise (and yes of course to protect his own copyright which i feel is totally fine)
the audience was pretty supportive - they kept things like ‘we believe you’ etc. at him but while he was talking so LOL he had to actually stop and go “okay guys, please let me finish talking first”
and at the end of it he said, “so i hope you guys don’t misunderstand me anymore”
hahaha so this was just what happened over these two days - and I’m just kinda appalled that this snowballed into such a huge thing that chris himself had to come out and explain it? it’s so common for any of us to put ‘don’t repost’ or ‘any work here done is mine’ or ‘photos are ours’ etc. and we understand because ownership right - so to bash chris and his manager for that... i’m a little mindblown, and then for chris to have to even explain himself about this, it’s totally ridiculous because those photos literally are his, he can do whatever he wants with them with the reuploads and modifications etc.
some level-headed chinese fans came out in defense of him by having to literally explain what ‘copyright’ means LOL - and actually as long as money isn’t involved, and you don’t use his stuff for commercial purposes without permission, more or less everyone closes an eye and allows it
finally, we all know what a sweetheart chris is?!!! i mean we don’t know him personally at all but he’s so sincere to his fans, i can’t imagine him turning on his fans in any disrespectful way and for no reason whatsoever because he’s so grateful to have all his fans after having a few tough years
and once again, this is why we can’t have nice things
#history 3: 圈套#history3: trapped#history3圈套#fandom freakouts#trapped news desk#chris wu#hangzhou fanmeet
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Recommendations (1/2)
This was written for a @mrs-captain-evans 2,5K followers Writing Challenge. Congratulations on the milestone and here’s for 2,5K more!
I chose “Well, this is awkward…” as my prompt because as I was scrolling through the options the scene that particular scene just jumped at me.
Summary: Twitter is a strange place. But once in a while, you connect with someone.
Word count: 3,564
Warning: mild language, 35 seconds of angst, could be less if you read it fast.
Warning2: there will be a lot of Trump bashing at the beginning of this story. If you’re offended then maybe this isn’t a story you should read.
Author’s Note: All rules regarding verified accounts and how they behave were taken from Twitter.com.
It all started innocently enough.
Chris had opened Twitter to post a video of Dodger playing with his stuffed lion, knowing his dog was a fan favorite, when Trump decided to give his opinion on a National Geographic article about Global Warming.
GOD, he was a moron. A dumb, squinty-eyed, toupee wearing, orange moron. Chris seethed as he clicked on retweet with comment and called out the man he had the displeasure of calling President.
A few seconds later his notifications started to pop up. He switched tabs to Mentions and Replies where thousands of retweets with GIFs and other memes were pouring in before he filtered the tab so only verified accounts were shown. Mark retweeted his reply, Don wrote a snarky and an awesome comeback, Ellen Page tore the man a new one and an MIT professor he met during a flight home to Boston mentioned him and your account as prime examples of the generation who could make a change. He liked some favorites, retweeted a few others and was about to close the app when a new mention popped up, this time from your account, thanking your mentor and sharing a blurb about being cool because you were now linked to Captain America.
Curiosity got the best of him and Chris clicked on your handle. The header was a picture of Diagon Alley at the Warner Brother’s Harry Potter Tour in London and the picture to the side was of a woman dressed up as a Gryffindor student, wand, scarf and a pointed hat. He noticed you were also a verified account and your small bio read ‘Y/N, 30something.’, ‘You can be anything you aspire to be. I chose to be a nerd’ and ‘Director of Media Studies at MIT’.
That is an interesting combination, he thought while looking through your latest tweets. Chris immediately found your own retweet of the orange moron and he laughed when you called him a dweeb, deeming the man unworthy of being president of your dog’s agility class, much less president of your country. You also quoted him in a series of articles that could be found at the Congress Library website and citing other articles from different countries, asking him to please trade his Rich Richie comics for something an actual president needed to know ‘You know, like Obama’.
You had an incredibly sharp mind for a woman who spent her free time dressing up as a fictional character, he thought before shaking his head when he looked down at his costume. Yeah, better not judge.
Chris spent a good chunk of his downtime between takes that day going through your tweets. Every time his PA called him to block a new scene or to film a close-up, he would carefully lock the phone without closing the app so he wouldn’t have to scroll down again.
Later that day he was back on his trailer resting, they wouldn’t be going home that night till the first Thanos fight scene was over but he was now free of his Captain America clothes and could relax. He took a shower in the small trailer bathroom, put on a loose pair of boxers and picked up his phone again, opening the Twitter app, happy to see it was exactly where he left.
Chris was now looking at your tweets from two years ago. He scrolled down on some retweets, mostly articles about social media and its influence on people, thoughts about the latest Game of Thrones episode, a tweet about watching Captain America: The Winter Soldier again after the results of the presidential election and how it had changed your views of the movie and a trip to London to guest lecture on a seminar in Oxford, with a link to watch your lecture on Youtube. You’re funny, witty, and after watching your lecture on Book to Movies Adaptions: Bridging the Gap in the Fourth Dimension, he realized he was enthralled not only by your pretty eyes and lush lips but also with your mind.
He saw pictures of your adopted one-eyed blue merle Cardigan Welsh Corgi aptly named Captain Hook which you confessed was rarely used because you liked to call him Hooker, calling his name out loud around Cambridge Square just to get a reaction out of people. He laughed long and hard imagining you walking up and down Tudor Street asking if anyone had seen a one-eyed Hooker prancing around.
He worried his bottom lip for a moment before closing the app and opening up Safari quickly founding what he was looking for on his saved links. A new window opened and Twitter.com was now on his screen but instead of the usual @chrisevans handle, the account belonged to @BostonBrains81.
The Patriots logo stared back at him from the top of the page and a random shot of the crowd in one of the home games stood over a simple bio: Boston. Beer. Patriots.
The account he used to interact with his friends back home, like their baby pictures, sign in to various sites and go even crazier over the Patriots than he normally would on his main.
He looked nervously around his trailer before he searched for your handle, clicking the follow button before he lost his courage.
You are now following @Y/H
Was he really going through with this? His index finger hovered over the reply button on your latest tweet, the one where he was also mentioned.
“Ok Chris, you can do this.”
BostonBrains81 @Y/H you’re a lot cooler than Captain America. Wicked answer to the resident Oompa-Loompa, but I gotta ask, you think he knows how to read?
There, he did it.
_
That had been the first of the many 280 characters conversations you had with each other.
At first, you wondered if he was just a creep that followed you because Professor Travis mentioned you and Chris Evans on the same post; you had gained almost a thousand followers because of that, but they quickly unfollowed you when you didn’t gush about Chris Evans or they realized you didn’t actually know the actor. Not @BostonBrains81 though, he stuck around, commenting on some old articles you shared, liking all the pictures of Hooker you posted and even replied to the one where you shared his name asking if calling out for a Hooker in Cambridge had you stopped for solicitation at any point. You laughed at his joke and decided to follow him back.
The guy, you assumed it was a guy, was incredibly intelligent, always had a smart comeback to your jokes and could make you laugh in less than 100 characters. You shared most of the same views, from politics to music and books, the only point of contention was football. He was probably the biggest Patriots fan you had ever met and you being originally from the west coast was a Seattle Seahawks fan. He told you he had a working buddy who was a huge Seahawks fan as well and they had watched the Superbowl together in Arizona a few years back.
He’d ask you for a new book recommendation every few weeks and confessed his line of work had him waiting around quite a bit. You believed he was a flight attendant because he more than once replied to you from different parts of the country. You wondered if you should let him know the location settings were turned on.
You quickly got into a routine of checking his page to see if he was online that day and a little over two months since you first ‘talked’, you moved on to Direct Messages and conversation become more serious. Thoughts on religion, the #MeToo movement, gay rights, all were candidly discussed and you now actively sought his opinions on some of the subjects you taught your classes.
For a flight attendant, the man had some strong opinions and knew how to keep a conversation going. You chastised yourself for your classism, just because he had a blue-collar job didn’t mean he couldn’t have a sophisticated mind.
Some people are incredibly well educated and never set foot inside a college corridor, you remembered Professor Travis lecturing an advanced Media class you sat as his aide. Take Captain America for an example, I met the young man who portrays the superhero during a recent flight from Atlanta to Boston and I was highly impressed. He could very well be a post-doctorate student here, but he chose to follow his own footsteps to Hollywood and I thank him for it. I quite enjoy the dichotomy he brings to his portrayal of Captain America and Steve Rogers during The Winter Soldier and Civil War. If you haven’t, please watch those movies as we’ll be discussing them in our next class.
Professor Travis had been your theses supervisor and was one of your closest friends, even though he was thirty years your senior. The man had one of the sharpest minds you knew and his classes on Comic Books and the Juxtaposition to Modern Politics was always full, with a waiting list that never got any smaller. You usually sat those classes as his aide and he called on you often to share your views on what the media contributed to the political storm brewing on the horizon and what comic books contributed to that. Captain America had become one of Travis favorite subjects as of late, the whole Hydra and Nazis making a comeback after the last presidential election.
The fact Chris Evans engaged in politics and wasn’t afraid to speak up his mind played a huge part in why you started following him after Professor Travis met the guy. Sure, the man was eye candy to your often-tired eyes but he had a lot to offer than just those huge biceps, that amazing tight ass, and that soft-looking facial hair. You got a kick of his self-deprecating humor and once or twice you had jointed down a few books he mentioned and truly enjoyed them.
It was a really nice coincidence @BostonBrains81 had read them as well.
By the end of summer you were feeling lonely and thinking of asking another professor out. You wanted a male opinion on the idea, preferably one not in the same circle of friends and your best online friend was just the person to ask.
Well, does he make you feel nervous?
No, why would he made me feel nervous? He’s a very nice guy.
See, if you’re not nervous around him that means he doesn’t make you feel anything. If you don’t feel anything for the guy, why waste your time? And a nice guy? God, that’s the worst thing a woman can say about a man. A nice guy is as bad as saying a girl is okay. Is she beautiful? Meh, she’s okay. Does he melt your insides? Meh, he’s a very nice guy.
Seems like you gave this a lot of thought.
I’ve had more girlfriends than… jobs. When I broke up with the last one, I decided to wait for the right woman instead of getting into another destined to fail relationship. There’s no shame in stepping back and deciding you’re worthy of more than just an okay girl.
Or a nice guy.
Exactly.
Being alone is not easy though. We jump from one relationship to the next because we’re already used to the normalcy of having that steady presence in our lives. It doesn’t matter if we know that person isn’t right for us or they might even be prejudicial for us in the long run. The relationship fills a void we don’t like, that feeling there’s something wrong with us because we can’t maintain a partner.
Who let you in my head when I wasn’t looking?
Sorry for getting too deep.
You’re absolutely right though.
Thanks for the talk, no dates with nice guys from now on.
Don’t go for the bad guys either.
Well, that considerably narrows the option pool. Who am I dating then?
How about me?
Good one funny boy.
What’s wrong with me?
Barring the fact that I don’t even know your real name and you could very well be catfishing me, not much.
Catfishing?
You know, trying to make me believe you’re someone you’re not.
.
You there?
Sorry. Yeah, I’m definitely not trying to make you believe I’m anyone but myself. Name’s Chris by the way.
Nice to meet you, Chris, I’m Y/N.
Your conversations with @BostonBrains81, better yet, Chris, were now a daily occurrence and included questions about your daily lives and personal family stuff, Chris had three siblings, the youngest had been adopted and you spent a whole afternoon discussing the effects of adoptions on both the family and the child, you commended his parents for going through the processes and he opened his heart about normalizing the girl when she first came to live with them but now she was his favorite sister and he couldn’t imagine life without Shanna in it. He told you about moving away from home at eighteen to pursue his dream job, you shared how difficult adapting to Boston was at first but how you couldn’t see yourself living anywhere else now. He confided in you his work had him burned out a little and how much he missed home. Since his location had been stationed in Atlanta for the past three weeks, you deduced he worked for Delta Airlines.
Hey, you there? Can we talk?
Sure, I’m just lounging, you good?
I’m still at work, everyone is being a dick today and I’m having a hard time coping, plus I’m tired and a little cranky.
I’m sorry. Coworkers can be a pain in the ass sometimes, no matter what the field. Have you tried the exercises you told me about?
Yes. More than once. They seem to work for a while but then I have to head back in and someone else decides it’s his turn to be a dick. And now the… execs are here and they want to change some of the stuff that’s already done so that means more work and more dick-headed people all around.
When it’s your turn?
Uh?
Well, since everyone is having a bad day, why can’t you lash out? Be a dick too?
It’s never my turn. Chris is always the good guy, Chris is never a diva.
You don’t need to be a diva to demand respect. Demand respect while being respectful, but put your foot down. The old you get more flies with honey. Do you need to be there?
I’m supposedly done for the day.
So go home, take a bath, sleep in clean sheets. I know how hard it is to turn off work, sometimes I stay in my office for hours after I’m my shift, but it’s not healthy. If they truly need you, they know where to find you.
They do yeah.
Go home, Chris. Pass on the shield.
What?
Like Captain America did in the comics. Let someone else do the job.
Oh. Okay, yeah, that makes sense.
I make a lot of sense when I’m drinking wine.
So your advice comes from your inebriated mind?
I’m hardly inebriated. It’s one glass of wine while reading a book in the bathtub. This is my me time.
I’m sorry for interrupting your naked me time. Thanks for the visual though, it’ll help me with my own time when I get home.
Go home, Chris. It’s the wine’s order.
You were now on a territory you swore you’d never slipped into; flirting with a stranger online. You tried to talk yourself out of it, tried to curb this insane idea manifesting inside your head and your heart, you were a scholar for goodness sake, you taught your students to never engage romantically online, therefore, you should know better.
You most certainly didn’t.
I’d like to take you out for coffee sometime, you could show me around MIT.
Maybe. When you get back from Atlanta, let me know.
How do you know I’m in Atlanta?
Your location setting is turned on.
Is it? Damn.
Yeah, I should have told you sooner. Working for Delta Airlines must nice though.
Yeah… I guess. Blue collar job though.
Don’t be like that, you should not be ashamed of what you do for a living. If it makes you happy, it’s all that matters.
You’re right, I’m pretty happy doing what I do. So, coffee?
Sure. I usually get my caffeine fix from ‘Bean there, Doughnut That’ over at Arrow St. It’s always full of students.
Smart girl, going for a place where you can find a friendly face if we don’t get along.
That, and you could be a serial killer, I need witnesses to remember your face. It’s not like I *really* know you.
I look forward to changing that. I’ll be home after Columbus Day. Could we meet then?
Yes, sure. I want to finally put a face to the man I’ve talking for the past four months. It’s a date.
A date uh? I like that. I like that very much. I hope you like my face when you see it, I kinda have an ugly mug.
I’m sure your face is fine. Besides, I already like your personality and that’s the part I always have trouble with.
Checking Twitter had become your new guilty pleasure and you’d close the app with a frown if Chris didn’t post anything every few days, exactly what was happening right now.
He had been offline for a whole week and you missed your usual banter, his witty sense of humor and how he took to calling you Professor Hottie. The Patriots lost the second game of the season and you wanted to gloat a little but most of all you just wanted to know if he was okay.
Biting your lip, you clicked on the direct message button.
Been a while since you’ve been online, did you get lost on the way back from Boston Market?
I see that you turned off your location sharing. Was I being too stalkerish?
I guess you’re busy or maybe you just don’t want to talk to me. I’ll leave you be.
Had you come on too strong? Did you sounded desperate and scared him off? You read your past conversations and nothing sounded too eager on your part, maybe he just wasn’t interested anymore.
Well, that was that.
You sighed and refreshed your home page one last time, checking your latest tweets and was surprised to see a new Tweet from Chris Evans, another Chris who had been MIA lately.
ChrisEvans Officially wrapped on Avengers 4. It was an emotional day, to say the least. Playing this role over the last 8 years has been an honor. To everyone in front of the camera, behind the camera, and in the audience, thank you for the memories! Eternally grateful.
Interacting with celebrities were never really your thing but you would miss Captain America, you were sure they would have to kill him if Evans would not play the iconic soldier anymore, so you took a chance and clicked on reply.
Y/H @chrisevans thanks for making Cap cool again, you made him justice and gave the tired soldier a new and improved multifaceted personality. We’re gonna miss him.
Satisfied with your chosen words you smiled as you hit send. You got a few likes notification right away, some of your students and MIT faculty retweeted your post, Professor Travis included.
ChrisEvans @y/h thank you. Having people like you and @TravisMIT giving Cap your stamp of approval certainly makes me think I did a good job.
Wide eyes blinked back to the screen when you read his response. He not only thanked you but for some reason he held your opinion to a higher standard? How was that possible?
Your mentions exploded with people asking you similar questions and you had to switch to verified account only to stop the barrage of notifications for new tweets coming through.
Your phone beeped with a new direct message and a small glimpse of hope that your Chris was back made you forget about Evans.
Hey, sorry for the disappearance act, work has been crazy lately. You’re definitely not stalkerish, that title actually belongs to yours truly but I’ll tell you more over coffee. Don’t ever think I don’t want to talk to you, our conversations are the highlight of my days. I missed you a lot these past ten days.
You cocked your head side to side while reading the message, twice, three times, trying to understand exactly what was going on. You should be happy, it was exactly what you wanted to read after being ghosted for over a week.
There was only one problem. The DM did not come from @BostonBrains81. It came from @ChrisEvans.
You hovered your mouse over the reply button but your brain was short-circuiting. You started and deleted dozens of replies, none of them conveying what you were feeling well enough. Deceived. Betrayed.
New direct messages appeared one after the other.
Well, this is awkward…
I can explain.
Please talk to me.
Look, I was stupid for not telling you sooner but doesn’t change how I feel about you. Can we talk? Please?
You’re now blocking @ChrisEvans.
You’re now blocking @BostonBrains81
#Chris Evans Fanfic#Chris Evans Fan Fic#Chris Evans Fanfiction#chris evans x reader#chris evans x you#mrs-captain-evans#writting challenge
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I think this is an important debate right now so I'm gonna just drop the whole article in here as well:
By John Hoey, April 13, 2020
"Daisy Ridley has been a part of Star Wars for over five years and has seen the best and worst sides of its fans. Now that the sequel trilogy has ended, concluding Rey’s story (for now), the actress shared her take on the constant negativity coming from fans who didn’t like The Rise of Skywalker and the impact it has on those who create the films, as well as her personal etiquette and social media preferences. Ridley’s thoughts on online fan culture make this as good a time as any for us fans to take a reflective look at ourselves and the impact we have on the Star Wars franchise and its future.
In an appearance on the podcast DragCast, Ridley was asked about her personal social media preferences and spoke clearly about why she doesn’t have social media (it’s not as dramatic as some have made it out to be), and her thoughts on the fans who choose to lash out with backlash toward Star Wars films, most recently The Rise of Skywalker.
First it needs to once again be made clear why Daisy Ridley is not publicly on social media:
“I was asked to go on it, and, at the time, I was like, ‘Okay,’ and then it got to the point where I didn’t want to be on it and I was at my friend’s house in L.A., and I remember being like, ‘Oh, I don’t want to be on Instagram,’ and they were like, ‘Well, why don’t you come off?’ and I was like, ‘Oh.’ And it was really a nice, autonomous decision. Because I was like, ‘Oh, I don’t actually have to be on it. This is nice.’ And I always had a limit to what I shared anyway and, honestly, my life isn’t that exciting. So there were a lot of separate things.”
Ridley talks about how things have changed since 2015’s The Force Awakens, which was universally loved for the most part. If you read between her carefully chosen words, she is basically saying social media has brought negativity much more to the surface than it used to be.
“It’s changed film by film, honestly. Like 98%, it’s so amazing. This last film, it was really tricky. January was not that nice. It was weird, I felt like all of this love that we’d sort of been shown the first time around, I was like ‘Where’s the love gone?’ I watched the documentary, the making-of, this week, and it’s so filled with love, and I think it’s that tricky thing of when you’re part of something that is so filled with love and then people. You know, everyone’s entitled to not like something, but it just, it feels like it’s changed slightly, but I think in general that’s because social media and what have you.”
Ridley takes to the popular lesson parents everywhere try to teach their kids, “If you have nothing nice to say, don’t say anything at all.” Well, that doesn’t play in fandoms, of any kind. Daisy admits to finding the backlash to The Rise of Skywalker upsetting, and how she tries to avoid it as much as possible, while acknowledging how easy it is for people to have an outlet, in turn leading to more opinions reaching the public sphere.
“I think in general, people share so much on social media that if I went—I don’t have social media, anyway—but if I went to a film and didn’t like it, I just wouldn’t tweet about it,” she continued. “But it’s such a conversation and it always has been. I guess now conversations are just more public, so there’s stuff I wouldn’t have seen, but honestly trying to scroll through my newsfeed in January and trying not to see Star Wars stuff, I’d see headlines and be like ‘Oh my god this is so upsetting.’ So it’s been tricky, but then it’s having that thing of I feel really proud of it, and I’m so thrilled to be part of it. Yeah, but it’s a funny thing.”
I think a big part of the allure to posting our takes into the endless reaches of social media is people want to be heard and feel relevant. There is an inherent human instinct to want validation, and if your thoughts on something get showered with likes and retweets and comments, that validation is fed. But, if our output is negative it can snowball into a sub-culture that has a significant impact. I have had conversations with plenty of people over the years in the film industry and even inside Lucasfilm who have said they pay attention to what’s going on on social media. Now I say that with hesitation as that could entice people to be more vocal, but the point is, they keep tabs on who says what, especially those who are legitimate influencers in the community. They pay attention more than you realize.
The downside of this is creators and talent are also very aware, and for some it has become unattractive to want to work on Star Wars after seeing the hell and hate George Lucas, J.J. Abrams, Rian Johnson, and other creatives have gone through. Perhaps that’s why we’re scratching our heads lately at some of the unknown names we’re seeing popping up as writers and other significant crew members on important upcoming projects. The editor of Del Rey books Tom Hoeler publicly admitted it is hard finding authors to write Star Wars books, which is under a much, much dimmer spotlight than writers, directors, and actors.
The more Star Wars “fans” poison the well of social media with negativity, backlash, and hate toward the films and those who make them, the harder it will be for Lucasfilm to convince talented people to want to work on projects from a galaxy far, far away, when they can just as easily take their talents to less murky waters.
There are varying degrees as well as extremes of negativity online, and the biggest extreme are those who threaten violence against creators. Now some will say this is just a joke, but I can’t imagine how anyone would find something like this humorous, especially in today’s world.
Now many will rebut by saying that type of behavior is not representative of all who didn’t like the movie, and that is completely true. That goes without saying. But, as with what happened with The Last Jedi, where hate toward the movie and Rian Johnson permeated for years after the movie’s release (continuing to this day), perpetual and constant output of negativity, even if done without hostility, fosters and ferments the culture of hate. As Daisy Ridley said, everyone has a right to not like something, but I am not sure what good it does if you voice that disdain and/or hate non-stop. If you left the theater after seeing The Rise of Skywalker and took to your Twitter account to tell your followers you hated the movie, that’s all well and good. Did you take the next couple of weeks to point out things you didn’t like about it? That makes sense. Your message was likely received. But if you feel a need to constantly beat the same drum of negativity over and over five months later and into the future, perhaps you need to rethink your approach if you believe your thoughts haven’t been clear or resonated with people.
I am personally not a big fan of The Clone Wars or Ahsoka Tano, but instead of bashing Dave Filoni or the animation department on a daily basis, I opt to talk about things I like instead. I catch myself taking a turn to negative town from time to time, we all have our moments, but I think if we care about Star Wars and want it to succeed and attract the best filmmakers and talent possible, perhaps it’s our responsibility as fans to be better and create a better online culture together. Not all fans pay attention to the pulse of fans online, but it’s a growing part of all fandoms, not a shrinking one, so I hope we can all channel our inner Jedi and be more polite, respectful, and kind to creatives and each other on social media and in general.
This culture of negativity is not limited to Star Wars, as other movie and TV franchises, sports, music, and anything with mass followings suffer from similar problems. I still believe Star Wars fans are overall good, and while sometimes we feel smothered by the spread of negative vibes when we try to connect with our fellow fans online, we need to always try to remember one thing about the good people in this fandom…there are more of us."
#daisy ridley#the rise of skywalker#star wars#fandom discourse#tros negativity#star wars negativity#fandom negativity#anti tros#rian johnson#jj abrams#star wars fandom#sw discourse#tros backlash#rey
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thank u, next
A/N: am i whipped for one (1) kangaroo leader???????? maybe lol but i’m on break rn for cranberry season and i whipped up this fic after listening to this song on repeat for a kajibillion hours. i’m thinking of making this a two part series? or should i keep the ending as is? or do y’all want more of this dynamic???? lmk what yall think!!! Also if anyone can tell what the song skz is singing hmu
Pairing: Stray Kids’ Chan x Reader
Genre: Angst/Fluff/Pop Star!Reader x Rock Star!Chan/Exes AU
Word Count: 5.4k
Thought I’d end up with Han / But he wasn’t a match,
Wrote some songs about Hyunjin / Now I listen and laugh,
These words flowed through the car stereo late at night as Chan found himself kissing some random girl he met at the nightclub. She kept her hands clutching tightly to his leather jacket, and he smirked as she let out another sigh.
Even almost got married / And for Chan I’m so thankful,
Wish I could say “thank you” to Felix / Cause he was an angel,
Chan froze once he heard his name coming from the stereo. “What’s wrong, babe?” the girl, who’s name had slipped his mind, asked.
He dropped his shocked expression and slipped back into his normal cocky facade. “Nothing, don’t worry ‘bout it,” he reassured her, leaning down to ghost his lips against hers, Now, where were we?”
One taught me love / One taught me regret
One taught me pain / Now, I just can’t forget
You had not expected such an explosive reaction to your newest single, but here you were, scrolling down your Twitter feed to the endless tweets gushing over “thank u, next.”
“Darling! You’ve done it once again!” your manager exclaimed as she burst into your dressing room, “I’m getting calls after calls asking you to come onto talk shows, radio shows, award shows, the whole shebang!”
“I’m glad to see you’re so excited about this, Melissa,” you teased, “I haven’t seen you this happy since you’ve met Chris Evans.”
“Now, as much as I love that man, I love you much more, my little songbird,” she sang as she booped your nose. “Did you hear what they’re calling this? ‘Pop Princess turned Pop Queen!’ God how I love the press! They’re eating this whole thing up!”
“I guess they didn’t expect me to release such an honest song,” you replied, still scrolling through your feed.
“Of course they didn’t! Who knew innocent ‘Somni’ would pull a Taylor Swift and drop a song about her exes? And name them too? No other artist has done that before!”
“I’m pretty sure I wrote that song about my self-growth, Melissa, not just to highlight I dated those guys.”
“Of course, darling. Now, why don’t we get you all dolled up for the red carpet? It’s your first public appearance as the ‘new’ you!” She let out a squeal before running out to grab your stylist and make-up artist.
You giggled at her newfound excitement and looked back down at your phone only to freeze at the headline glaring back you: CHAN CONQUESTS AGAIN? You swallowed down the uneasiness that crept upon you and placed your phone face down. “Get a grip, Y/N. You’re no longer ‘little Ms. Pop Princess,’” you said to yourself, training your eyes firmly on your reflection in the mirror, “and some boy isn’t going to make you revert to that.”
“Now, Somni, how does it feel to be all grown up now?” Amber asked. You laughed at her formality, considering the two of you were close friends, and pretended to ponder upon the answer.
“Honestly, I have no clue what you’re talking about,” you answered, giggling a bit at the eye roll she gives you and the disappointed looks you get from the audience members.
“I can’t believe you’re playing coy with me right now!” she jokingly complained, “I expect answers during my interviews, Y/N, answers!” The audience ooh’d when she used your real name.
“Sorry, Amber, I just don’t get your question! I’ve been a grown up since I turned 18, and that was a while ago.”
“Nuh uh! Somni was not grown up two years ago when she released ‘Wonderland.” Iconic album, but definitely the cookie cutter pop album we’d expected it to be. But this? ‘thank u, next’ completely defies what we expected coming from you! What caused the shift?”
You could practically feel the audience members leaning forward with bated breath. Ever since the song dropped a month ago, the internet had been ablazed with speculation over your music’s sudden shift.
“Well, I guess I was done writing a narrative where I was always the person getting saved,” you said, referring to the long list of love songs you had written in the past, “and I wanted to be the person that saved myself. ‘Monochrome’ is definitely going to show more of that self-love theme that I teased in ‘thank u, next,’ and I’m so happy that everyone has been so supportive of the change!” You gestured towards the audience members, earning a cheer from them, and even acknowledged the camera, knowing many of your fans were also watching at home.
“Amazing. I’m so proud of you for taking that next step in your career,” Amber gushed, earning an ‘awww’ from the audience, “Now, we can’t just ignore what everyone here actually wants to know about.”
You looked at her and quirked a brow. “And what is that?”
“The boys of course! You can’t just name drop them without spilling some tea, sis,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.
“Stop,” you whined, “why would you even bring them up?” You exaggerated bashfulness by covering your face with your hands.
“C’mon, you name dropped a few big names in that song. Han? The biggest name in the up and coming rap scene right now! Hyunjin? He’s the highest paid male model in the world! Felix? Before his retreatment from the scene, he was the most well-known actor of his time!”
“Well, they helped build me into the person I am today. I didn’t think anything more of it,” you replied diplomatically.
“And we cannot leave out the biggest bombshell from that song: Chan, the lead guitarist of SKZ, which is, by the way to anyone watching who have been living under a rock for the past year, the biggest rock band on the scene right now! Who knew you were into the bad boy type, Somni? And you almost married the guy too!”
You let out an airy chuckle, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. “Yeah, we were young and in love. A risky combination if you ask me,” you joked, eliciting laughter from your audience.
“C’mon, Somni, you gotta give us something!” Amber pleaded.
“You know I don’t kiss and tell,” you jested, “especially not to the thousands of people who watch your show!” The audience whined at your statement, and you only flashed them an apologetic smile.
“But seriously, how did the bright-eyed, princess of the pop world end up almost married to the biggest playboy rock star on the scene right now?” Amber goaded.
“We were different at the time, Ambs. Life just happened to end up this way,” you replied cryptically. She tsked at your unwillingness to spill everything, but she retreated from the topic.
“Anyways, focusing back on you, I heard you’ll be performing at the American Music Awards, and you’re premiering your new single’s music video during it? That’s huge!”
“Yeah, ‘Without Me’ is getting a music video. Stan Twitter, this one’s for y’all!” you exclaimed, shooting finger guns towards the camera.
“And you’re album is dropping tonight right?”
“Exactly at midnight! I hope everyone can listen to it. I know it’s my favorite and most intimate album to date, and I hope everyone enjoys it to!”
“Well that looks like all the time we have with Somni tonight, folks. Check out her new album, ‘Monochrome,’ dropping tonight at midnight!”
You were back in your New York City penthouse, finally away from the hustle and bustle that came with album promotions. A small sigh escapes past your lips as you submerged yourself into the warm, bubbly bath water. You rested your head against the tub and looked up at the ceiling, finding yourself slipping away into your memories.
“What do you think about this chord, songbird?” Chan asked, strumming a jumbled mess of notes on his guitar. He got a scrunched up nose and a ball of sheet music thrown at his face as an answer. “Just teasing you,” he pouted, scooting over on the couch to look over your shoulder.
“I know you are, but I’m trying to focus right now,” you grumbled, pushing your glasses back up your nose and scrunching your eyebrows together. Your pencil was still flying across the page, putting down notes and rests and lyrics.
“Why don’t you take a break,” he asked sweetly, “focus on,” he leaned his head down to nip at the sensitive skin on your neck, “something else?” You stilled your hand for a split second, and Chan thought he had finally broken through, but you just shrugged him off and went straight back to work.
“This is my first album after debuting, Chan. I can’t just put it off. I need to come back with good music,” you sighed. He looked on worriedly as you ran your fingers through your hair once again and let out another huff of air.
“Songbird.” His hands found themselves on your waist, and he hoisted you onto his lap. You didn’t struggle and leaned back into his arms. “Sometimes you just,” he pressed feather-light kisses against your neck after each word, “need a little distraction,” once he found your sweet spot, you knew you were gone, “or some inspiration,” you let out a soft groan when he lightly bit down on your flesh, “like how well I’m going to-”
BRRRING! BBBRRRIING!
“Sorry, babe,” you mumbled, leaning down to scoop your phone off the floor. “Let me take this, and I promise you we’ll get back to where we left off.” Chan just waved you off, but you had missed how his eyes trailed after your retreating frame lovingly. If only you had seen that.
You knew you were over your past relationships. Each one ended, relatively resolved, and tucked away in your memory box. You and Han ended things after six months due to busy schedules. Hyunjin was dropped after 4 months when you realized you needed someone to fulfill a deeper, emotional need. Felix disappeared from the scene a year into your relationship, and you just assumed it was over when he stopped replying to your texts. And Chan — your eyebrows furrowed at the thought of him.
You could never really pinpoint where things went wrong with him. It was a flurry of you falling too fast for someone who never really reciprocated back and diving right in when he proposed to you 2 years into the relationship. A wry smile graced your lips when you recalled the realization that had dawned on you two months into the engagement. “He never said ‘I love you’ sober,” you mused as you continued to soak in the bath. You knew that he was tucked in a box just like the other boys, but a small voice in the back of your head continued to pull at the ribbon that kept his box shut.
“Somni, you are absolutely stunning tonight!” the interviewer gushed as she gestured towards your fitted maroon suit jacket and tight cream pants outfit.
“Why thank you so much!” you beamed.
“I must say, this is probably a huge night for you,” she said, “How does it feel to be one of the main focuses of the night?”
“Well, I don’t know about ‘main focuses,’ but I am so excited to perform tonight and reveal the music video for the new single, ‘Without You!’”
“Speaking of ‘Without You,’ it is easily my favorite song from ‘Monochrome!’”
“Stop! You’re just being polite,” you teased.
“No! I seriously love how raw you sounded in the song. I honestly felt the pain in your voice,” she said. “Plus, it was quite fun trying to figure out which of the exes this one was about.” She gave you an over exaggerated wink, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the situation.
“Well, I hope you don’t expect me to tell you who,” you retorted, “It was lovely talking to you!”
After you bid her goodbye, you continued walking down the red carpet, stopping every now and then to pose for the camera and wave towards your fans. You also stopped every now and then to talk to some other artists and congratulate them for their nominations. In the midst of your conversation with Jaime, a deafening cheer from the hoard of fangirls came crashing into your ears. You looked behind you and saw SKZ getting out of their limo and beginning to walk down the red carpet. It was a blatant understatement to say Chan looked good. Even after accepting your failed relationship as it is, you were still capable of addressing that the guy looked fine. You dared not to stare for too long, since there were cameras everywhere focused on you, but you took a mental snapshot of Chan with his, newly dyed, blond hair swept up to reveal his forehead, adorned with a leather jacket thrown over a, teasingly, tight white button up and torn black skinnies, and the trademark devil may care attitude that seemed to wash off of him in waves. A flash of light followed by a click pulled you out of your trance, and you refocused your attention back on Jaime. “Where did we leave off?” you asked sweetly, planting back on your trademarked smile.
The stage lights were pulsing, and the roar of the crowd became almost deafening around you. It had been a long night of dancing, singing along to the performers on stage, and afflicting yourself to pain whenever you had to trek onto the stage in your heels to present or accept an award. The camera seemed to love you as it continued to film you and Jaime as the two of you bounced up and down, both of you ditching your heels at that point, to the artists on stage and lip-syncing like your lives depended on it. However, you noticed the camera lingering on you longer than usual, and you sent the cameraman a playful quirk of the eyebrow. That was when Jaime pointed towards the main stage.
“SKZ is about to perform,” she explained, keeping a hand on your arm comfortingly.
“Awesome! I heard they’re performing a never heard before single,” you said back, trying to keep your expression upbeat for the camera.
The brief break ended, and all cameras trained their focus onto the side stage where the host stood. “Revealing a brand new single for the first time, here are the heartthrobs of SKZ with ‘Moving Along!’” they exclaimed.
Chan began to strum a steady rhythm, and a lump formed in your throat when you noticed the songbird sticker still stuck to the bright, red body of his guitar. The song was definitely more chill compared to their older, “edgier” releases, but you liked the lazy feel of the bass, the driving force of the rhythmic guitar, and the lax attitude the guys took on as they sang into the mics.
Been thinking bout you lots lately / Have you been feeling empty beds just like me?
I’ve been thinking bout you lots, lately / Or are you moving along?
You couldn’t help but chant along to the chorus, ignoring the weird feeling you got from the lyrics.
Is it wrong if I ask you to come over? / Is it wrong if I told you that I love ya?
Even though I never do it when I’m sober / Is it wrong? So wrong
That lyric struck a chord in you, but you continued to plaster on your smile and dance along to the song, keeping up a show for the camera. “If I wrote a break-up song, I guess he can too,” you mused.
The neon lights flashed to the bass that vibrated throughout the entire nightclub. You found yourself retreated to one of the side booths, scrolling on your phone to look at all the feedback you got back for the “Without Me” music video. It was amusing to see the internet freak out over, but you couldn’t help but feel disappointed at the lack of commentary on the music video’s aesthetic, which you had painstakingly curated, instead the buzz seemed to be around who the music video alluded to. Was the song about Chan? Definitely. You wrote it shortly after your split with him, and it sat in your drafts for a good year before your management pulled it out, dusted it off, and polished it up to be the second single for “Monochrome.” Was the purpose of the song to demonize Chan? Hell no. It was just to help you heal, help you get over such a harsh fall from cloud 9. You disappeared from the music scene for a good year to recuperate because being with him was like a firework. It built up and heated up and kept you enthralled, but it ended so quickly and left messes behind. It just happened to be that you were the mess that was left behind.
“Where were you?” you asked, too tired to put any emotion in your words anymore.
Chan looked at your sitting frame on the couch in shock. Well, as much shock as a drunk man could muster. “What’re you doing still up?” he slurred.
“Where. Were. You?”
“Out with the guys. Celebrating the new album’s release, the usual.” Chan’s brows furrowed. The tone of your voice took a complete 180 from what he was used to. “What’s wrong, songbird?” He walked up to you to try and get some shred of the usual warmth you emitted, but he was abruptly stopped when you stood up and held up a hand in between the two of you.
“You don’t get to call me that anymore.” You had no clue where your iciness came from, but it wasn’t hard to assume it accumulated over the past two months of your engagement. The past two months where you were planning the wedding alone in your apartment’s kitchen with the company of a glass of wine while Chan is out every night getting shit-faced with who knows who?
“Hey, what’s wrong? Talk to me,” he pleaded, trailing behind you to the shared bedroom. You replied with silence, keeping your pace steady and your face still. You knew if you spoke, your voice would’ve wavered. “Y/N?”
God, he sounded so broken and confused. It took your all not to spin around and wrap your arms around him like everything was okay. But it had been months of his lack of attention, affection (unless he was absolutely desperate), and affirmation. Your revelation had been when you were sitting on the living room floor, writing a song about him as a surprise present for him during the wedding. However, in your fit of brainstorming, it came to your realization he hasn’t told you he loved you since the engagement. He hasn’t sat down with you and helped with the planning. He hasn’t been home most nights to hold you in his arms at night. The sudden distant behaviour led you to thinking: maybe he didn’t want this at all. Maybe he didn’t want you at all.
You were in the bedroom now, and you grabbed the giant duffel bag you had packed earlier and spun around to leave as quickly as you could.
“You’re leaving me?” he asked, “Why are you leaving?” You pushed past him without a word, but he grabbed your arm and spun you around to face him. “Y/N, talk to me.”
“Let me go, Chan.” God, you were too tired to drag this out any longer.
“Not until you tell me what the hell is going on!” Chan spat back.
“I’m leaving you! That’s what’s ‘going on!’ I’m finally doing what’s right for me and leaving your sorry ass behind!” you screamed.
“What the hell did I do?” He was getting angrier now. “I just got home, and you’re already being a pissy little bitch!”
Your glare hardened at his last word. “Really now? You’re calling me a ‘bitch?’ Maybe I have a reason to be one,” you got right up into his face, “considering you’ve been an awful fiance for the past two months! You haven’t helped with any of the planning! You have barely been home at all lately! And we haven’t had a proper conversation in ages! I’m so tired of being strung along and left out to dry!”
“Maybe if you weren’t nagging me all the damn time, I’d stay home! Don’t you know how annoying it gets when I get home from the studio and the first thing I hear is your fucking voice telling me to pick out a goddamn flower arrangement?” he seethed, “If I knew you were this annoying, I would’ve never proposed.”
You had kept your indignant stare trained on his face the entire time, but at that last sentence you tore your gaze away and pulled your arm out of his grasp. “Would’ve never proposed, huh?” you parroted humorlessly, trying to smother down the lump forming in your throat and the tears swelling in your eyes. “Yeah, I wish you never did too.” You turned away to hide the tears slowly streaming down your cheeks and just started walking away.
“Wait, Y/N, songbird, I didn’t mean that,” Chan said, following after you, “You know that I love you.”
You spun around quickly and sent him a spurned look. “Do I? When was the last time you told me you loved me? When was the last time you held me? When was the last time you helped me? You don’t love me. You probably,” you choked up, “never did.”
“No, Y/N, I swear, I swear to God, I love you. I promise you I’ll be better,” he begged.
“Can you tell me that tomorrow when you’re sober?” you asked wryly. Chan just looked at you pleadingly, practically begging you to stay. “I’m done being another body that keeps you warm at night. Goodbye, Chan.” And just like that, you were out of his life.
You blinked back the tears that crept up and began putting back on your “Somni” mask, smiling brightly and cheerfully at everyone. Jaime and some of your other artist friends were lost to the beat, dancing away the night in the middle of the room. You were a solid two steps away from joining them before halting when you made eye contact with Chan. He was still dressed in that ridiculously fitted white button-up, and his hair had become messier, with strands falling down to grace his face. He was dancing with some girl; his hands on her waist as she kept her back firmly pressed against his chest, but his eyes were trained on you. If it was past-you in present-you’s position, you would’ve probably ran out of the room trying not to let tears spring from your eyes. But this is present-you, the one who spent a year healing and coming out of the wreckage stronger. You gave him a brief smile before turning away and walking towards the exit. “I think I’m done for the night,” you thought to yourself, “That’s enough excitement for a day.”
Chan woke up again to a cold bed. He groggily turned onto his side and glared at the bright red numbers that told him he was, once again, late to a meeting with management. “Great,” he said, falling back onto his back, “I couldn’t get any last night. I ran into my ex. And now I’m fucking late to a meeting.” The day hasn’t even started yet, and it’s already the worst day of his life. He grumbled and groaned some more before getting out of bed and stumbling to the drawer to find a clean shirt and pair of jeans. “When the fuck were you so soft, Chan?” he asked himself while digging around for socks. He would’ve usually never be affected like shit like this, but ever since you released that song he hasn’t been able to think of anyone but you. Every single girl he tried to bring back to his place ended in absolutely nothing because you keep plaguing his mind. Every single radio station he goes to ends up playing your song. And now his band’s highest selling single is the song he wrote about you. It was like he could never escape, and he was so fucking tired of it.
“Glad you could join us, Chan,” his manager said sarcastically.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, “long night.” His bandmates looked at him sympathetically; almost everyone could tell Somni’s latest album was affecting him more than he’d want to let on.
“Anyways, we’ve generated such a good buzz around the upcoming album with all this ‘ex-lovers’ gossip, the company thought it’d be good to accept an offer for a special interview on Amber’s talk show,” the manager started cautiously.
“What kind of interview?” Chan asked.
“With you and Somni.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Chan seethed. “We’re ancient history! The public wouldn’t have cared this much if she didn’t release that stupid song and name-drop me.”
“But they care now, and bottom line, everyone knows you wrote ‘Moving Along’ about her. Do this interview and you boys are projected to break the Top 10 of album sales for 2018.”
“So we’re exploiting me for album sales?” Chan sneered.
“You signed up for this life, rock star. Don’t tell me you’re backing down because of some girl? Thought the two of you were ancient history?”
Chan studied his manager hard before gruffly agreeing to the interview, “If it gets you off my case.”
“So this isn’t awkward at all right?” Amber asked midway through the interview. You politely waved off her worry even though you could practically cut the tension between you and Chan with a knife. “Awesome,” she exclaimed, “Now let’s get to the juicy stuff. How did the two of you meet? Considering both of you are so freaking famous, how did no one know about this relationship???”
“Simple,” Chan plastered on his “rock star” persona quickly, leaning into the leather couch and easily placing his arm behind your head, “We figured out how to avoid the press after all of our years in the spotlight. Plus, it wasn’t hard for me to approach her; she was this bright-eyed, newly debuted pop princess completely left alone at an after party bar. I figured I might as well grace her with my company and from there it’s history.”
If he can put on his persona, I can too.
“If I remember correctly, I told you to buzz off when you offered to buy me a drink,” you said with a quirked eyebrow. The audience ooh’d at that, completely drinking up your newfound HBIC attitude.
“Looks like our pop princess is gone,” Amber joked, riling up the audience a bit more.
“But then you took a complete 180 when you ran into me tipsy into the alleyway outside the club,” Chan retorted, a playful smirk gracing his features.
Before you could stop yourself, you softly smiled at the memory and agreed. Chan was 100% taken aback by your change in demeanor. The queen-esque Somni facade was replaced by the Y/N he remembered waking up to every morning. If he wasn’t on camera right now, he would’ve definitely melted.
The moment was interrupted by Amber. “Wait, what happened? Y’all can’t leave us hanging like that!”
The soft expression left your face as quickly as it came and you settled back into your camera-self. “You know I don’t kiss and tell, Ambs,” you teased, “And I hope Chan here knows better and doesn’t either!” The audience laughed at your jest.
“Fine, but you can’t spend this entire time not giving us anything!”
“I can’t believe you told them the kitten story!” Chan exclaimed as the two of you lounged in the break room.
“What? They wanted some sort of tea, so I gave them an adorable story about the time you tried to ‘save’ a ‘stray,’ and it turned out you catnapped our neighbour’s cat!” You broke out into giggles at the memory of it all. All the tension between the two of you eased away somehow throughout the interview, and here you were now, sitting on the break room couch waiting for your ride while sharing memories with your ex-fiance.
“Okay, how was I supposed to know Benjamin already had an owner? He didn’t have a collar on him!”
“You can’t call the kitten Benjamin, Chan. It’s name was Spot, and we ran into it every day when Mr. Jameson went outside to collect the mail with the kitten trailing behind him.”
“Fine! I admit I just wanted a pet,” he said with a pout. Laughter fills the air, and it seemed like the clock had been turned back, like it was you and Chan on your couch at 3am sharing stories with each other. A comfortable silence falls upon the two of you.
“Do you miss this sometimes?” he asked out of the blue. You were taken aback by how serious he sounded.
“Why do you ask?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I miss this.” He said it so nonchalantly that you almost missed it.
“Why would you?” you teased, trying to lighten up the mood.
“Because I love you.”
You didn’t know how to process that confession. You didn’t know how to respond to that confession. Hell, you didn’t even know he had it in him to drop that confession. You awkwardly chuckled, trying to diffuse the sudden surge of emotions running in your mind, “C’mon, you never really loved me, Chan. It’s all the media stuff getting to your head.” You tried waving it off while also trying to ward off the sudden heat rising to your cheeks.
“No, Y/N, I do love you. I loved you then, and I was an asshat for never telling you. But I was an idiot then who had no idea what love was. I hopped from girl to girl every single night until I met you. I dropped on one knee so fast and you said yes, and that’s when I realized that I was in no way shape or form good enough for you, and instead of facing it and trying to become better for you, I ran away and drove away the best goddamn thing that has ever happened to me. And I’m so fucking sorry for what my drunkass self said to you that night because it never said what I really wanted to say, ‘Stay. I’m sorry. I love you. Forgive me.’’
The air was getting heavier and you found it getting difficult to breath.
“But I swear, Y/N, on my heart, on my guitar, on my band, I love you, and I’m so sorry for not being the man you deserved.”
And that was when the dam opened. You just started bawling. It was like every single ounce of pain and sadness you bottled up after that break up, every ounce you poured into your music so you could pretend to be strong and move on, came rushing out. In your tears, you didn’t notice when Chan wrapped his arms around you. Taken over by muscle memory, you burrowed your face into his chest and wrapped your arms around his torso. He ran his fingers through your hair and rubbed your back reassuringly.
“It’s okay, Y/N. I’m sorry for always making you cry, but I’ll be here for you now. I swear.”
Even then, with him comforting you and speaking so genuinely to you, you didn’t know what to make of the situation. Should you shut this down now or risk crushing your heart again just to give him a second chance? Chan took notice of your sudden stillness.
“Y/N? You alright?” He pulled himself away from you to study your face. “Y/N?”
“Chan,” you whispered, “I-” With a surge of stupid impulse, you grabbed Chan by the shirt and pulled him towards you, pressing your lips harshly against his. Like many times before, Chan’s hands find themselves gripping onto your waist before pulling you onto his lap. All caution was thrown to the wind when your fingers found their way into his hair, tugging at the strand slightly whenever you found him pulling back. “Babe, give me more,” you mumbled, pressing yourself even closer to him.
“Wait, Y/N, maybe we should-”
“Please, Chan? Please?” you begged, peppering kissing down his neck, “Just this once?”
At the sound of your whine, Chan flips you onto the couch, so he’s hovering above you. “Who said anything about ‘once?’”
asjdfkl so yeah, thoughts on a part 2??????? I kinda wanted to flesh out more of their backstory and maybe see what happens next?? and kinda wanted to delve in further into the other exes but then i realized it would’ve been wayyyyyyy too much and i apologize for all the freakishly long fics i write OTL also lmk if you know what skz in this fic sings bc yall a real one if yall do !!!
#stray kids#kpopwritingnet#bang chan#stray kids imagines#stray kids scenarios#stray kids chan#stray kids bang chan#chan imagines#chan scenarios#skz#skz scenarios#skz imagines#bang chan imagines#bang chan scenarios
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