#she gets written out of the part for a good chunk of it and then comes back only to not do much else. she is like kakyoin in that way | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

renjunphile · 5 months

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for the rest of ours ᡣ𐭩 song eunseok

୨♡୧ WORD COUNT: 13.4k ୨♡୧ PAIRING: riize's song eunseok x female!reader ୨♡୧ TAGS & WARNINGS: chaebol heirs!au, rich kids!au, one sided enemies to lovers!au, arranged marriage!au, angsty at the start, overall fluff, reader is selfish and mean to eunseok for a good chunk of the story, brief unrequited love but y/n is an unreliable narrator tbh, second chance romance, she fell first but he fell harder trope, drinking, partying, non linear narrative

୨♡୧ SYNOPSIS: you find song eunseok to be utterly and despicably insufferable. too bad he's your fiancé since birth! and there was nothing you could do about it!

୨♡୧ NOTES: OHHHH im having such an intense eunseok rot that i had to write the most gut wrenching and nonsensical piece that becomes to sickeningly fluffy at the end. theyre just so in love with each other and there's literally no plot at all!!!!!!!!!!! lowkey one of the worst pieces i've written in recent times since i rushed it but i will edit and add scenes and plot in the future :> but for now, enjoy! ♡ i.b let my by zayn at the end :)

˗ˏˋ જ⁀➴ ˎˊ˗

It may be disturbing for some and horrifying to say, but your eyes hadn't even fully formed in the womb to open and your limbs weren't even well defined enough to have joints when your life was signed off to another's. For goodness' sake, it had barely even been a month since your tiny, minuscule heart started beating! What would the Song's have done if you grew up ugly?

You sighed to yourself, muttering under your breath how Korea's third richest family should be grateful you were akin to art in anyone's eyes. You were looking through the dusty photo albums that the housekeeper found while tidying the primary study of the mansion, and you grimaced at the photos of your fiancé that appeared from even the very first page.

It was bad enough that you were engaged before you were born, but did he really have to attend your birth? He probably didn't even have memories then! But there it was, under your fingertips: a perfectly preserved photo of a 3-month old Eunseok bundled up in sleep suit being posed next to where the nurses placed you after they literally just took you out of your mother. You don't even think the umbilical cord had been cut yet.

"Y/N, Mr. Song is outside," your favourite housekeeper coos at you from the double doors going into the study. You give her a terse smile and stand up from your father's office chair, straightening your silk gown before taking her hand as she helped you down the marble stairs of your home.

You roll your eyes (mostly to yourself, but you didn't mind if he noticed) as you saw his car parked at the bottom of the stairs leading to your front door.

"You can't even be bothered to come and collect me? Or open the door for me?" you sneer as soon as you settled yourself into the passenger seat.

"Well hello to you too, my lovely wife," Eunseok smirks, immediately revving and setting off around the fountain of your courtyard.

"I'm not your wife," you snap, deciding to ignore when the word 'yet' seems to slip under his breath, "But seriously Eunseok? This car? I'm going to look so stupid trying to get out of this car in my dress and heels. Why do you love sitting on the floor so much?"

Eunseok has an extensive car range. One that any car junkie would envy, but Song Eunseok knew nothing about cars. He just had them because he could. This car was a sports car where you had to sit in such a ridiculous position just so the car could look cool on the outside.

"It's white!" he defends himself, slightly whining in a cute way to which you swallow down a positive reaction. His eyes flicker over to you momentarily and his tongue traces across his bottom lip, "You look gorgeous, by the way. Very bridal."

You're wearing a white silk dress that looks like it's made for your body. It's draped so beautifully around your hips and hugs every part that needs to be accentuated. You loved this dress the second you saw it in Paris, but you never thought then that it would be used for this occasion.

"Just shut up and drive," you quip. It takes a few moments of silence for you to feel bad even though his expression remains neutral and you sigh, "I guess you don't look too bad."

"Aw, I knew you were in love with me!" he teases again, a phrase he liked to use every time you said something to him that wasn't snarky, sarcastic or an insult.

You choose not to reply, instead taking in the bright lights of Seoul as he pulls into a main road. You haven't been back in a while, holing yourself up in your penthouse in Manhattan, but you always loved the sight of home.

"But seriously, Y/N," Eunseok coughs to get your attention, his voice dropping down low and suddenly serious, "This actually might be your last chance to back out of this. Just say the word and I'll turn this car around and take you straight to Incheon and you can run away around the world long enough until they find me a new bride."

You turn to look at him, perplexed by his words, "And you? You actually want to get hitched off to some random?"

Eunseok shrugs, not meeting your eyes, "You're not some random. I've known you since you were born. I've known you'd be my wife since the day I could understand what that meant. But if I have to find a replacement because you don't want to do it anymore, I will."

"Gee, ever the gentleman," you deadpan, "I think want is a pretty strong word. I don't want to marry you, but I guess I will."

"You're not backing out? Not leaving me looking stupid up on the altar?" Eunseok taps his finger on the leather steering wheel.

You think about his words sincerely. There's really nothing more in the world that you'd love than to run away to a small little town on the southern coast of Italy- somewhere quaint and quiet where you'd find love and spend the rest of your days cooking, cleaning, baking and finding peace in the ocean. There's nothing more in the world that you want more than for someone to ask to marry you because they were in love with your soul and not having you by their side would be like torture in the cruelest form.

Alas, you're Kang Y/N of the powerful Kang family, the eldest child of your father and the next heir waiting to take over the conglomerate. And because you're Kang Y/N, the eldest daughter of the second richest family in Korea, you were contracted to marry the first son of the third richest family in Korea. After that, your companies would merge and you would overtake the Kim's as the sole ruler of the country.

"It's my duty," you swallow nervously as you begin to recognise the streets of where you were driving, signalling that you were soon approaching the venue, "It's fine, Eunseok."

"I wish it wasn't just fine. I wish this was what you wanted." he breathes out and your heart stops beating for a second before anger seeps in through the cracks of your heart.

"Do you think it's any girl's dream to marry someone that doesn't love them?"

Eunseok sighs as he presses on the breaks, moving through the lifted barrier where they had closed a portion of the street in anticipation for his car and your arrival. He twists his body to look at you, "Y/N-"

"It's fine, Eunseok," you grit your teeth as you repeat your words, eyes trained on the paparazzi camped out on the steps of the venue, eager to get a glimpse of you, "Let's just get this engagement party over with."

˗ˏˋ જ⁀➴ ˎˊ˗

Song Eunseok had to follow you around the world like a lost puppy.

When you said that you wanted to go to that boarding school in Switzerland where only the richest sent their kids, Eunseok was in the seat next to you on that first class flight. When you said that you were going to Oxford to study for your undergraduate degree, Eunseok was tossing away his dream to study at Harvard to join you getting drunk at 18 under the grey British sky. When you said that you wanted to do your masters at Columbia so you could live in New York City, Eunseok was moving into the apartment across yours while he worked at the company his dad created in New York just for him to have something to do there.

If you said jump, Eunseok had to say how high?

That was just the name of the game considering the Song's had more to gain from this arrangement. Your family was richer. Your family was in a greater range of industries. Your family's money went back a lot further than the Song's. And you- you were the most stunning woman in Eunseok's eyes and because of him, you were stripped of your choice to fall in love. That's why the Song family gave you princess treatment from the second you were able to demand things.

You had protested until your vocal cords went raw when they found out that they were sending Eunseok to university with you. For years up until you turned 18, you had imagined finally getting away from Eunseok for once, even if just for 3 years. He had always talked about Harvard and with the grades to boot, you thought that you'd finally have an ocean separating you.

It certainly wasn't an easy fight at the airport as you threatened to drop out of university the second that you even stepped foot into the new country. All your father did was bat his eyelashes and give you a heartfelt, "Please, princess? Just do this for us."

The phrase 'just do this for us' nearly knocked you sick nowadays after over 2 decades of hearing it spew out of your father's mouth. Ultimately, yes, you were lucky to have such a loving family that never pushed anything evil or truly despicable onto you. This was the one thing they needed from you. They obliged every want and wish for the trade-off of giving your hand in marriage to the Song's first born son.

In June of your third year of university, a couple months out from your graduation, Eunseok turned up at your door completely drunk.

"What are you doing here?" your arms were crossed tightly, trying to cover as much of yourself as possible as you were clad in the smallest pyjamas for the British summer heat.

He grinned goofily up at you, eyes lazily fluttering open and closed, "Hi, Y/N. I'm drunk." He was leaning against the doorway, nearly making out with the frame.

"I can see that," you sniffed the air and grimaced, "And smell it. But what are you doing here?"

"Can't I visit my lovely fiancée on her 21st birthday?" he batted his long eyelashes sweetly at you, taking one step into the apartment. You gazed at him hesitantly, taking one step back.

"I don't think anyone would appreciate their fiancé turning up on their doorstep piss drunk at 2am," you spat, "If you truly wanted to wish me a happy birthday, you would have left me alone."

"I lost my keys," Eunseok groaned, "I didn't know where else to go."

It should be sweet that out of all the places he could have chosen to go to in the city, he went to yours. Instead, it made you feel angrier.

"Eunseok, stop bothering me," your words contrasted your actions as you pulled him into your apartment and locked the door behind him, "Go sleep in the spare bedroom and leave as soon as you wake up. I'm going out for breakfast with my friends tomorrow so lock the door behind you and keep the key with you 'til you see me next." You pulled the spare key out of the drawer and placed it in his pocket.

Like a pathetic dog, Eunseok followed behind you as you led him through the apartment your parents had bought for you.

"Can I sleep with you?" he murmured.

"In your dreams, Song," you retorted, stopping in front of the spare room door, "Plus, you stink like shit."

"Ah, it's okay," he sighed dreamily, resting his head against the door, "We have the rest of forever to sleep beside each other."

You let out a frustrated screech, shoving his chest, "Can you let me live in peace? Why do you have to keep reminding me?"

"In the hopes that one day the thought of it won't make you sick or angry," he replied, opening the door of the room.

Your strong gaze faltered, "What are you- in love with me?"

"No," Eunseok shook his head, "I could learn to though, if you wanted me to."

"The only thing I want from you is to be far away from me," you ran your hands through your hair to soothe yourself, "And even that you can't do."

"I'm sorry, Y/N. Thanks for letting me stay," Eunseok gave up on his tyranny and dropped his voice, "Happy birthday."

You muster up a near half-smile, turning to return to your bed where you'd be tossing and turning until your alarm went off, "Goodnight Eunseok."

˗ˏˋ જ⁀➴ ˎˊ˗

The worst thing about your arrangement with Eunseok was that it was kept secret.

Of course, it was an open secret in your families and to the company- and there were always rumours about it since you two ended up always together around the world. But it wasn't like it was announced to the world at any point to protect the prospective merger happening when you and Eunseok came of age.

That made relationships very hard indeed. It always had to end in heartbreak, at least for the other person.

The two of you agreed that you could see other people if you wanted to, and you agreed on this the same day you had your very first heartbreak.

"Eunseok, can we talk?" you poked his side to catch his attention. Eunseok was bouncing his basketball up and down while he spoke with his friends just outside the school courts. It had been 2 months since you moved back to Korea after spending 3 years in Switzerland at boarding school, where you quickly became homesick. Eunseok followed you home immediately.

Your fiancé bid his friends goodbye and gave you a sweet smile, "Yeah of course. What's up?"

You led him to the adjacent square that was thankfully deserted and settled just under the bloomed cherry blossom tree in the middle, "Um."

Eunseok giggled at your hesitancy and pushed your hair behind your ear, "What is it?"

16 year old you blushed terrifically at that moment, highlighting your plump cheeks and shining eyes as Eunseok peered down at you.

"I know this is um, pretty stupid," you began, breaking his stare and looking down at your Prada loafers, "Well basically, my friend Jimin- you know Jimin?- she told me to-"

"Just say it, Y/N."

"I like you?"

It came out more of a question as you quirked your eyebrow up at your fiancé.

His eyes went wide, taking in a deep breath, "Y/N. You," he paused, "You like me?"

"Yeah," you exhaled, "Is that so bad? We're going to get married someday."

Eunseok looked around and noticed his friends turning the corner to the courtyard, presumably to look for him, "Look, Y/N, I'm sorry but I thought we were going to, you know, try experience life like how others do and meet people and do whatever we want to until they tell us we need to get married. I didn't think we were obliged to date."

Your eyes began to water and your lips began to quiver as sheer embarrassment sunk into your bones, "So what? You want to date around?"

Eunseok reached out to cup your face but you quickly took a step back, feeling humiliated and slightly bettayed, "I'm sorry Y/N. I didn't know you felt like this towards me. Look, can we talk later? I'll swing by your house after basketball practice, okay?"

From the ages of 0-16, you would say that you and Eunseok were close childhood friends. Even though you had no concept of marriage or love, your parents had forced the two of you to be together through every occasion with weekly play dates and attending the same schools. When you finally understood what being engaged to each other meant at around 12 years old, it made you swoon that you were going to spend the rest of your life with your best friend, who you'd always found endearingly cute. He became more handsome as the years went by and at 16, he was the object of all of your desires.

He was manly, he was protective, he was sporty and most of all, he treated you so well. He would run around town with you no question to go shopping and indulge you in all of your cravings even if you needed to have ice cream at 10pm in the dead of winter. He would take the train with you all around Switzerland to see different lakes and ski resorts. He would help you study in the library and pass you your favourite snacks whenever it seemed you were getting tired. He would give you his jacket on the breezy nights watching the local sports matches.

You were so blinded with your affection towards him that you had convinced yourself that he did those things because he liked you back. Because he wanted to treat his future wife well.

The day Eunseok stamped all over your little heart was the day you waged a one-sided war against him. Eventually, Eunseok began reciprocating your snarky attitude and the rest had been history.

You told your maids and house security to refuse entry to the grounds to Eunseok that night, but because of your parents' unconditional offer to Eunseok to make your house also his home, he had spent a good part of the night on the other side of your bedroom door trying to get you to open it so he could apologise. For a man you were once smitten for, it was easy to put on your headphones and drown him out until he got exhausted and left.

˗ˏˋ જ⁀➴ ˎˊ˗

Eunseok opens the car door for you and offers out his hand. In the darkness of his car, you grimace slightly, but force yourself to take his hand and use your free hand to smooth your dress out as you exit the car. The flashes from the press are blinding and carry on all the way up to the bottom of the staircase leading into the venue your parents had hired for the evening.

You try to keep a pleasant smile on your face as Eunseok passes his keys to the valet men before wrapping his arms around your waist. It comes nearly naturally to him, from all the photos your parents had made you pose together in dating back a decade or two. But it's your first official public appearance together, so the flashes intensify and you're taken aback. Eunseok feels you stumble slightly and begins to lead you along the carpet rolled out up to the stairs.

There's shouting from every direction- asking where your dress was from, asking if you were dating, asking why you were with the 'rival' company's son all the time- nothing new to you. After you traverse up the stairs, the two of you turn around and give a small wave at the cameras. You feel Eunseok drop his head down to yours, so you nestle yourself into him a bit more. How sweet, you thought to yourself, pushing down the urge to throw up at all this fakeness.

"Last chance to run," Eunseok murmurs as the doorman opens the glass doors into the foyer.

"Are you begging me to?" you counter, "Why do you keep insisting I back out?"

"I'm not. I just feel guilty, so I'll make up a solution if you want to stop all of this," he whispers into your ear. To others, it's an endearing moment as you keep your face neutral.

"It is all your fault. You should feel guilty. I'm not doing this for you or your family, but for my family. If this is what they want, then I'll oblige," you nod your head firmly.

While Eunseok's family was definitely benefiting more from the merger, it did come with some advantages for your family too: less competition in the market, combined success superseding the current top conglomerate, and for your parents: the knowledge that their first born child was going to have someone that was born to and raised from a good and rich family- someone that would be able to take care of you no matter what and understand your life in a way no other civilian could.

You know that your parents' argument for you to marry this guy was weak- there were plenty of good, rich guys from other companies- but you had been happy with the arrangement at the start and by the time you were 16 and he was breaking your heart, the companies had already started slowly merging or putting the plans into place. It was honestly a shame to your parents that other than rejecting you, Eunseok really had no faults. He was always polite, always courteous and intelligent enough to take over the conglomerate with you when the time would come.

Eunseok drops his arm from your waist, instead sliding his finger between yours.

"Miss. Y/L/N, Mr. Song," your family's general assistant approaches you in the foyer with a tight smile, "The event is about to begin. Please follow me to the stage. Are your speeches prepared?"

"Mhm," you hum, tugging Eunseok with you behind your assistant, "The rest of the family are here?"

"Yes. They're waiting by the stage," she replies as nerves finally settle into your stomach. You suddenly can't even look at Eunseok anymore as the gravity of the situation clicks into your mind. After this, you were going to be officially engaged in front of the world and you were going to be his bride in no less than a year from now. There was no turning back anymore.

Eunseok has to shoot you a look to stop you shaking on the stage as your father and his begin their speeches about their company, and the new era and blah, blah, blah. You tune them out in order to focus on your breathing and make sure you don't barf the second you step up to the podium. After minutes of nonsense, you feel Eunseok place his hand on the small of your back, signalling you to take to the stand.

"Um," you began, suddenly losing all the lessons you had learned in your public speaking classes growing up, "Thank you all for joining us on this occassion. As my father said, we are transitioning into a new era of our company and as I take on the role of COO, we believe it's important to have good people by your side to support you. While my family and the Songs are joining together in business, we are also joining together in family," you look over at Eunseok, who gives you a reassuring nod, "Song Eunseok and I are to be wed in one year's time. We have been close friends and partners since we were born and I couldn't imagine anyone better suited to be by my side. We can go into this business partnership fully trusting each other and our companies and we would be grateful if you could give us your support. Thank you."

You step away from the podiums as gasps ring through the crowd. The business venture was nearly an open secret in the industry, but your relationship with Eunseok was based on rumours only, having never confirmed it. Now that you have, it would stir up all these new rumours- were you only getting married for the merger? Did you two actually love each other? What about all the eligible bachelors and bachelorettes that had been conniving to get even a bit of your or Eunseok's time to beg for your hand in marriage?

Eunseok takes his place beside you, wrapping his arm around your waist again as your families smile together for the pictures. The engagement party also doubled as a celebration for the merger, so at least all of the spotlight wasn't on you.

You're glad that your friends are here. They're all business heirs too, since like attracted like at your school. Your best friend Minjeong attacks you with a hug the second you step down from the stage.

"Ah, my best friend is getting married," she sighs dreamily into your ear, "You know what, Y/N, at least he's handsome. It's harder to hate someone when they look that good."

"Then you marry him," you chide, half-joking, "The problem has never been his looks. It's the situation."

"He doesn't hate you half as much as you hate him," Minjeong tuts, "And he's in the same situation. He never got a choice either."

You know deep down that she's right, but you're committed to making his life hell until the ends of the earth for breaking your heart. If anyone could say anything about you, it was that you could hold a grudge.

"Whose side are you on?" you prod her arm, but she rolls her eyes and links arms with you to join Eunseok and his friends.

"Happy engagement, lovebirds," Sungchan greets you with two kisses on your cheeks, "So excited to be at your wedding."

"I'm sitting you at the back," you retort, sticking your tongue out. You hated that Eunseok's friends were genuinely nice and funny people. It was so hard to distance yourself from Eunseok when your friendship groups had been deeply intertwined since you all could walk.

"Not when I'm a groomsman, right Eunseok-ie?" Sungchan swings his arm around his friend's shoulder, pulling him close, "Now tell me, who's the best man?"

Eunseok shoves his arm off, "You can just draw straws for it."

"I'll be the best man, hyung," Seunghan grins cheekily, "I'll make sure to give a really good speech, okay?"

"It's almost as if it's a real wedding," you smile bitterly, "Jeong, you'll be my maid of honour right?"

"You have to ask me properly," Minjeong whines, "We're going to do this wedding right, okay? My best friend will only get married once. I'm not letting you let your wedding planner do everything; we've been planning our dream weddings since we were 10 so we'll do it according to that."

"C'mon Y/N," Wonbin bumps his shoulder with yours, "We can make it fun. We know you'd rather not marry hyung, but he had always been the groom in all the weddings you'd plan when you were young. Now it's like a dream come true."

"Yah, Park Wonbin," Eunseok grits his teeth at his friend for bringing up the past. You wince at the reminder as Minjeong slaps his arm.

"Y/N, I think your mother is calling over you and Eunseok to dance," Shotaro calls for you softly, and you turn around to see your mother desperately signalling to you to join her on the dance floor.

"I'll see you guys later," you bid your friends a goodbye as you follow Eunseok into the crowd.

The night crawls by. It's nearly painful as you fake a smile with every passerby and acquaintance who congratulates you for your engagement. It feels like you're getting stabbed in the heart over and over again as everyone coos over how in love the two of you seem and how they always knew you were going to end up together. It crushes you as Eunseok leans down to your ear while you dance, apologising for how this was your life.

You get into his car after the party. The ride home is silent, apart from the noise of the city around you that seeps in even through the rolled up windows. Eunseok won't even dare breathe too loud in fear of making your life even less like what you had dreamed it to be.

He pulls up to your house and you make a quick move to unbuckle your seatbelt and open the door in one motion, but Eunseok wraps his hand around your wrist gently, bringing you back down.

"What is it now, Song?" you sigh in frustration, closing your eyes in defeat.

"I know this night has made your hatred for me 10 times worse," Eunseok begins, shuffling in his seat to reach into his inside pocket, "And I know that what we have isn't real to you, but I thought you at least deserved this."

Your eyes flutter open and you look over to him. He uncurls his clenched hand, unveiling a shiny ring in the middle of his palm. You bite back the gasp that bubbles up through your throat, and you reluctantly take the ring between your fingers without looking at him.

It's exactly your dream ring. It's what you imagined the love of your life to propose with when you were younger. It's what you wanted to be someone's physical manifestation of their love and devotion to you. That makes it all the worse when it comes from Eunseok.

"I remembered," Eunseok reads your mind, "When we went ring shopping when we were young for fun because you wanted to make sure I would propose with the right ring. I hope it's still what you want."

You can't bear to look at Eunseok at all, so you clench the ring in your hand and open the door, "Goodnight Eunseok. Thank you. Get home safely."

There's 100 steps between your front door and your bedroom. It takes what's left of your energy to hold back the sobs that threaten to escape prematurely. As soon as your bedroom door clicks shut, you collapse against your floor and break down in tears.

Why did Song Eunseok have to be such a good man? Why did you have to hate him? He was yours now, and that was what younger you wanted all along. Why were you taking it out on him? You had been holding onto a grudge for so long and he had been trying to make amends in private ever since, despite going along with your whole enemies thing for his own fun.

You hated how you knew that Song Eunseok could and would give you the life you wanted. You hated how all you wanted to do was love him like it was your choice and for him to love you back like it was his. But in this world, you were privileged enough to have everything you ever wanted, aside from the choice to love whoever you wanted to.

You hated how you didn't even have a choice in loving someone who didn't love you back.

˗ˏˋ જ⁀➴ ˎˊ˗

You fought with Eunseok nearly every time that you saw him through your university years. You found problems in the way he positioned himself too close to you and problems in the way he would distance himself and act like strangers when you did complain about that. You found problems in the way he didn't talk to other girls despite rejecting you and found problems when he would go on dates after you said that.

In short, Song Eunseok was a problem to you.

Yizhuo was forcing shots into your hands and demanding that you downed them with her as you tried to tune back in to the party going on around you. You couldn't think of anything else the second that Song Eunseok walked through the door arm in arm with some girl.

It was the last party of your undergraduate university days, since exams had finished and you were going to graduate in just a couple of weeks. Someone had rented out some kind of manor in the outskirts of Oxford, dedicated for everyone to stay at and party for a weekend. You knew the organiser through a friend of a friend, but everyone that had been invited was someone you either knew personally or knew of. The spoilt brats community at your university was large, but tight.

You obliged Yizhuo's request and bitterly downed the drink, hissing as it burned through your tracts, "What is this? It tastes disgusting."

"Alcohol isn't made to taste nice," she tutted at you, following your line of sight before sighing, "I guess it's time to get you more so you don't have to be sober looking at that."

Minjeong shook her head on the other side of you, "I can't believe he would bring someone here. He knew you'd be here. So disrespectful."

You saw that Eunseok was about to turn, so you quickly spin away in order to avoid eye contact, "It doesn't matter to me. We're not dating."

"But he's your fiancé," Yizhuo stomped in defiance, "He should have some respect for you."

"Since he didn't want to date me, i'd rather him date other people. Then it just looks like he rejected me because he didn't like me as a person," you affirmed, taking another shot with Minjeong.

"Y/N, please. You were 16 when you confessed and 16 year old boys don't have the most mature outlook on life," Minjeong argued, coughing after the bitter shot, "I'm sure he's not stupid anymore. You grew up hot and he's practically tripping over his own feet trying to chase after you."

"He's not chasing me," you scoffed, "He brought a girl here."

"Oh, you're impossible, Y/N," Yizhuo cried out, beginning to slur, "What do you actually want that poor boy to do? Even I would be confused with the way you act."

Your best friends have been trying to knock sense into you since you turned 18 and Eunseok gave up his dream to study at Harvard to be with you in England. They had claimed that Eunseok realised his feelings for you and wanted to make up for rejecting you. You claimed that if that was his intention, he would have told you that by now instead of pestering you by inserting himself into your new life without reason.

"He can do whatever he wants," you turned your nose up, "I don't care about him."

"Well you better act that way. He's coming," Minjeong warned you, suddenly disappearing with Yizhuo and leaving you stranded with your fiancé walking towards you.

It honestly felt like the grim reaper floating over in slow motion before he came to collect your soul. You fought hard to control the grimace on your face as he stopped in front of you.

"Y/N," he greeted softly, leaning in to give you a hug. You stood still, but you don't push him away. You ignored the way your heart skipped a beat when he pressed his cheek gently against the top of your head.

"Eunseok,"

"How were exams? You're graduating this year, right?" his head is tilted at you, eyes focused into yours.

"Why are you even asking? I'm sure you know my plans for the next 10 years considering you're still following me around," you scoffed, "Does your new girl know you're moving to New York after graduation so you can stalk me while I do my masters?"

"Are you jealous?" he smirked suddenly, gentle demeanour disappearing, "She's just a friend."

"Does she know that? I don't care what you do, Song. I just feel bad for the poor girl whose heart you're going to break when you tell her you're engaged," you feigned nonchalance, pouring yourself another shot, "I guess it's my fault for telling you to have your fun and experience things since apparently you'll be so devoid of love when you get married."

"Y/N," he trailed off, grabbing the soju bottle that had appeared in your hands, "You know it's not like that. I didn't mean it like that when I reject-"

"Save it, Song," you rolled your eyes, "Your girl is coming. Don't go blaming me when time comes to break her heart."

You turned away in time and managed to snatch back your alcohol before arms wrap around Eunseok's and a high pitch voice squeals to him about how she lost him. You find Sungchan somewhere in the crowd and convince him to call you a taxi to take you back into the town where your apartment was. Before he could even confirm the booking, you had already disappeared into the crowd, the shots you had taken truly seeping into your blood and making your head spin.

You don't really remember what happened the rest of that night, but if you try hard enough, you can remember being tucked into a bed on the third floor, big eyes peering down at you as you tossed under the duvet, a hunched figure sat at the end of the bed on the floor and a soft voice singing you to a deep slumber.

˗ˏˋ જ⁀➴ ˎˊ˗

"It's gorgeous, darling," your mother's voice takes you out of the focus mode you're in. The sunlight seeps through the stained glass, illuminating the sunroom at the back of your house. If you look down through the windows, you'd find the garden that your mother has been cultivating for decades. The rose garden with its arches and its vines was where you'd dreamed to get proposed to when you were young.

"You think so?" you showed her the sketch in full, turning the pad, "Do you think it's easy enough to create in real life?"

"We can make anything you want happen," your mother takes a seat in the lounge chair next to yours.

"Can you make Eunseok love me back?" you hum dejectedly, shading in the corset of what would be your wedding dress.

"He does, sweetheart. You just refuse to see it," your mother swiftly utters, and you stop your drawing, clenching the pencil tightly in your fist.

"Why does everyone say that?" you growl, "Everyone but Eunseok."

"Because you act like you hate him. You act like marrying him is the worst thing in the world. You act like there's nothing he could say or do that would bring him back into your favour despite you loving him all these years," your mother is lecturing you now, "He follows your lead, my darling. He will go to the ends of the earth for you and he always has. What more does he have to do for you to accept the way he shows his love? What more can he do to have your forgiveness?"

There's tears welling up in your eyes and your mother takes the drawing pad away from you to examine the dress you had envisioned. She carries on while you chew your lip and fight back the tears.

"You're going to be beautiful in this dress. One year's time will fly by, so make amends with Eunseok by then. Even if you don't go into this marriage as lovers, at least go into it as friends. That will make your life easier."

"I don't want to be friends," you grit out.

"Mhm, you want all or nothing. Why don't you ask him, then? He threw the ball in your court when he asked you if this marriage is what you want. Someone who doesn't love you or care about you wouldn't give you the option to run away to save yourself, you know?" you hate how insightful your mother is as she grabs your left hand, "This ring is beautiful, Y/N. He knows your heart like it's his."

"Cause it is his," you choke as the tears begin falling, "And he stamped all over it 8 years ago."

"He was just a young boy back then. He's followed you all over the world to be by your side ever since. He's sacrificed his own life to make your dreams come true. You have no choice but to marry each other, but he's been making choices to give you the life you wanted," she strokes your hair gently, "Can you give the boy a chance?"

Over the years, your parents had apologised to you for putting you in such a situation. They had told you that if you truly, inside your heart, didn't want to get married to Song Eunseok, they would call the whole thing off. The marriage was a way to ensure the merger wouldn't go awry by putting you and Eunseok as collateral if one side ever did try to betray the other. Tying the two of you together in marriage was a way to prevent either families from ruining the other.

You considered putting a stop to things more times than you could count on your fingers, but selfishly, you would imagine yourself on a rocking chair on a porch, hair grey and skin wrinkly and when you would look over to see who would be on the other chair, Eunseok was the only one you could imagine with you.

"But I've treated him so horribly all these years," you hiccup, trying to stop your crying, "There's no way that Eunseok would love someone like me."

"Because you won't let him," she stands up and places the drawing pad back in your lap, "Y/N, your father and I love you very much and all we want is your happiness. We haven't opposed this marriage despite how hard you've tried to push Eunseok away because we know that if you let him, he would make you truly happy. You're the only person stopping that happiness."

You ponder on her words for a while after she leaves, adding little details to your dress. For someone who was acting like this wedding was going to ruin their life, you sure were investing a lot of your free time into it. Maybe Minjeong had gotten into your head; unless you planned to divorce Eunseok (after the 5 year clause, per the contract), you were only going to get married once, so you should at least do it in your style.

Wonbin was right at your engagement party. You'd been planning your wedding since young. You knew exactly which flowers you wanted to adorn the aisle, which flavour of cake you wanted to eat, which song was going to play while you walked down the aisle, and whose eyes you wanted on you on the other side as you did. Eunseok had always been your dream man- he was your first crush, your first love and your first heartbreak all rolled up into one devastatingly handsome package. You imagined him in his crisp suit, laughing through his tears because you just looked so beautiful, and the thought of that takes you out of your fantasy and back into the room that was filled not with tears of happiness, but of silence.

You look down at the ring. The sun is hitting it perfectly, making the diamond shimmer in the beam. You slide it off and inspect the band for the first time, wondering what size he got since you didn't even know your size. Your heart stops when you first notice it. It's so small that if you blinked at that moment, you probably wouldn't have even noticed it and you would've lived the rest of your life not knowing it was there.

You run your nail against the engraving, your breath hitched as you read it.

To the one I'll always choose.

It's always been about choice. This whole time, it's been about your freedom to choose.

You and Eunseok weren't born with the privilege of choosing the one who was going to love you so hard that it would drive you crazy. You were instead born with a silver spoon in your mouth and a signed contract that because your family was going to have a girl first, that girl would be married to the Song's first born when the time came.

There was no question or argument about it. You grew up beside Eunseok knowing you were going to spend the rest of your life together, so you chose to learn everything about him. You chose to learn that he loved playing basketball with his friends and that he became silly and unserious when around them. You chose to learn that he doted on his much younger baby brother and that he would fight anyone and anything that could bring harm to him. You chose to learn that Eunseok had a soft heart that had its very own soft spot reserved just for you- one that grew bigger after your hatred for him did as well.

While you chose to hate Eunseok for rejecting you, he chose to stick by your side anyways. He chose to join you in Oxford, even if most of his friends went to America to study. He chose to live at the block just down the street from yours, so he could walk behind you to lectures and check that you were okay every day without overwhelming you. He chose to sleep on hard floors and wake up with kinks in his neck because he chose to sing you to sleep while you were drunk and then refused to leave to sleep in a nice bed so he could watch over you and protect you in your state. He chose to take on a job in New York for two years instead of joining his father's company straight out of business school so that you had someone to accompany you on your midnight walks through New York City. He chose to give you the choice to leave if marrying him was truly a burden you couldn't bear, because your happiness was the grand reward of the consequences that he would bear in your place.

When you chose to hate him, Eunseok let love grow in the emptiness that you left behind instead. He would choose you a million times over and over again until the day you'd finally see it. Your hatred for the situation stemmed from the fact that you thought your choices were stripped away in being arranged to marry. You wanted Eunseok to love you not because he had to, but because it was his choice to.

You were too blind by your rage to see that Eunseok had been choosing you over and over again not because of the arrangement, but in spite of it. That was the greatest love of them all.

On the next sunny day, Eunseok joins you on the bench in the middle of the rose garden. You'd been sketching up ideas on how you want the aisle to look like. You were thinking light flowers along the bottom with candles dispersed to illuminate it. In your dreams, you'd get married at sunset in a glass pavilion that could hold only your closest friends and families. As the sun started dipping, the candles would take over as the source of light and bathe everyone in a soft, golden glow. In your dreams, the light would reflect onto Eunseok's face, highlighting his sharp cheekbones and large, round eyes that were peering down into yours.

"What did you call me over for?" Eunseok sits on his hands and looks around. It's spring time and the garden is at its most vibrant and beautiful.

You hold out your hand in front of you, "I found the engraving on the ring."

Eunseok takes a sharp breath in, "Ah you did?"

"Did you not want me to see it?"

"I had just hoped that whenever you did see it, you would believe it," Eunseok whispered, "It's true, by the way."

"I know," your response has Eunseok turning his head so fast it almost gives him whiplash.

"You do?"

"Mhm. You chose to follow me around the world despite me hating you and you having to give up on your dream schools just so you could try to prove yourself to me. You chose to keep giving me gifts on birthdays when we were abroad since my family often couldn't make it. You always choose me. Why?"

"In part to make amends for the mistake I made when I was young pushing away your feelings like that without thought," Eunseok explained, "But for the most part because I care about you and I want to make the best of a bad situation we're in. I know that no one wants to be in an arranged marriage. I just wanted to show you that I could give you the life you wanted. That you could be happy with me."

Your heart aches at his words as you realise how truly misguided your perception of him was. You had thought that he was following you around to torment you and to remind you that you could never be free, but all this time, he was letting you live your dreams and staying by your side to show that he was supporting you.

"I've treated you so badly over the years and you still want to marry me?" you meet his eyes that have been trained on you since the moment he sat down.

Eunseok giggles and reaches up his warm palm to your cold face, "Hm, your words are harmless Y/N. You've shown your affection to me in other ways; I know you love me."

You roll your eyes and push his hand away, "In your dreams, Song."

"Mhm, actually in your dreams," Eunseok teases, "Considering you've been dreaming about marrying me for 10 years."

"And I don't know why. I must be sick in the head for that. Did you hit me in the head when we were young or something?" you retort, trying to move away from him.

Eunseok lets out a full-bodied laugh that sends butterflies through you instead of the burning rage that usually ensued whenever he was having fun in front of you. He stretched his arm around you behind the bench and pulled you closer to him, "Just admit it, Y/N. Everyone knows you've had a fat crush on me since we were teens and it's only ever grown. There's a very, very fine line between love and hate."

"I still hate you," you grumble, "This doesn't mean anything."

Eunseok drops his head down, pushing your head into his shoulder. Your first instinct is to recoil away and grimace, but Eunseok's grip on your shoulder is tight, so you try to relax in his hold.

"You'll always be my girl, Y/N. You just have to accept that."

You hum and watch the bees buzz around the rose garden, "I've always wanted the whole ordeal- the crushing, the pining, the courting, going on dates, having your firsts, moving in together, proposing how you want. I feel like that was taken away from me before I even knew what they were and even if we do those things, how would I know what's real and what's fake? What you're doing because of me and what you're doing because of the arrangement- that kind of stuff."

Eunseok's heartbeat is slow and strong, "The arrangement only brought us to each other. How can I make you believe that everything I do for you is because I want to?"

"How about we start with when you rejected me and left poor little 16 year old me heartbroken?"

Eunseok scoffs, "Y/N, I was stupid, okay? It was a mistake, I was young and I was too blind to see what was in front of me. You were still special to me back then and I have always cared for you, but I didn't know what I wanted back then. I grew up and haven't looked back since."

"And the girls you brought around at university?"

"Because you were demanding that I dated other people," Eunseok rolls his eyes, thinking about your past explosive arguments about relationships, "I just went on dates here and there, but never anything serious. I always let them know that I couldn't commit, but you know there was a line wrapping around Oxford wanting to date me."

You chuckle at that. Everyone was falling over their feet for the chance to get just a second of Song Eunseok's time, the same way he was doing to you. He was incredibly popular and girls would approach you to ask you to set them up, but you would always growl and send them on their way.

"You were only the most eligible bachelor because you're the son of the third richest family in Korea," you sneer, jokingly.

"And I'm handsome, charming, intelligent and kind," Eunseok lists off his traits on his fingers, "But everyone knows you've always had my heart."

"I don't know if I can believe that."

He shrugs simply beside you, "Doesn't matter. I can show you now."

"What?"

"We can date from now on. I'll show you how I feel. Then in one year's time, you'll be gladly getting married to me instead of having to be dragged up the aisle kicking and screaming by your family," he says it so casually that you question if the shocked reaction you're having is the abnormal one.

"Date?" you splutter out, completely bewildered, pulling away from him, "Us two? Now?"

"Why are you saying it like it's crazy? I basically just confessed to you," Eunseok crosses his arms in front of his chest and tilts his head in confusion, "Are you rejecting me? Is this payback?"

You wave your hand in dismissal, "Yah, you're really confusing me here, Eunseok. I don't know what I'm feeling right now."

He laughs again, and he's glad that he can finally laugh with you for the first time in years. He takes your hand between his and squeezes assuringly, "It's okay. We can figure it out together as we go. Just stay by my side, okay?"

You sigh into the breeze. The air was crisping up as the sky began to illuminate in visions of pink and purple. You look over at Eunseok and the reflection of the sun makes his eyes look iridescent. One thing you've always known about Eunseok is that with him, you felt safe, so you nod and squeeze his hand back, "Yeah."

˗ˏˋ જ⁀➴ ˎˊ˗

The first time you saw Eunseok again after your undergraduate graduation, it was in New York City at the end of summer.

You had spent the entire summer travelling nearly every country in Europe with your friends, while Eunseok was forced to come home and start learning how to actually work in his father's company before he started his role at the New York branch. You were glad to have this summer without him considering the two of you spent your summers together as children and as teens, your friendship groups overlapped so you also had to hang out with him.

There were endless boxes in your apartment since decorating your space was one of your life's great pleasures. The boxes were organised by room and had been shipped out from England at the start of the summer when you moved out. They'd been collecting dust, so all your windows were thrown open in the summer heat to air out the apartment and the dust. Of course you had AC, but there was something about the noise of the city traffic and the hustle and bustle travelling up to your apartment that made you feel like you were truly in the city.

The knock on your door made you groan instantly and you had to suppress the urge of banging your head into the coffee table you were decorating. You took small and slow steps to the front door, but the pattering on the door wasn't letting up.

"Already here to bother me on my first day? It's only been like 3 hours since I got off the plane," you sighed as you came face to face with your dreaded fiancé.

Eunseok rolled his eyes and pushed past your shoulders into your kitchen, "I know you missed me. I brought takeout since you probably haven't eaten and don't have any food yet." Eunseok held up a bag of his favourite Korean food in the city and placed it on your dining table, dishing out the styrofoam boxes.

He arrived in the city a week and a half before you did, moving into the apartment across the hall so he had been able to get himself settled into both his job and his city before you came to rain down terror on him.

"What makes you think I want to eat with you?"

"I bought it, so I'm gonna eat it. Up to you if you wanna starve or not," Eunseok shrugged, already making himself comfy in one of your expensive dining chairs. He took out some plastic cutlery from the bag and began to dig in to the beef bibimbap he had ordered for himself. There was another few boxes of food in the bag, all of which smelling amazing and instantly causing your stomach to grumble.

Sheepishly, you took the seat across from him and scavenged through the food. He had ordered you some tteokbokki and a stew with some rice. Either he knew you too well or it was a lucky guess. For the sake of your heart, you settled on the latter choice.

The two of you ate in silence for a while, not really looking up at each other and just staring passively at your food. Silence was few and far between when it came to you and Eunseok. It was always hushed arguing or full blown insulting between the two of you no matter where you went or how inappropriate it may have seemed to others. You were sure there were rumours that the two of you didn't always get on despite being photographed together so often, but your families' PR teams were experts in mangling all those 'rumours'.

You broke the silence first, "How's the new job?"

The heir in front of you coughs and looks at you strangely, as if he couldn't believe you would ask him that, "It's... work. Not horrible and met a couple friendly colleagues. Having this job does make me feel so grown up and responsible, though," after the initial shock of you initiating a conversation, Eunseok began blabbering about his new position at his family's company.

"Well then hopefully it makes you more mature," you snide.

Eunseok scoffed, "Trust me, Y/N, when I say that I'm the more mature one out of us. You'll find out what I mean one day."

"If you were mature enough, you'd know to oppose this crazy marriage with me," you turned your head away from him, feeling the anger bubble up again.

"And it's because I'm mature enough that I'm not," he shrugged, "Unlike you, I don't think this marriage will be the worst thing that can happen to me."

"I'm honoured," you retorted, "I don't know why you think that when all I've done is make your life difficult. Why would you think I can't continue for the rest of our lives?"

He smiled coyly at you, pushing a drink that appeared in the bag towards you, "You'll get tired, sweetheart. Then you'll fall in love with me."

You feel sick at how he's all entirely wrong. Despite that, you appreciate how he's always able to diffuse any tension between the two of you even if his words are always cocky and arrogant. z

You don't say anything to him for a long while. When you finished up your food in silence, he packed everything anyway and placed it in the correct bins. Wordlessly, he began to unpack your boxes with you, unwrapping everything bubble wrapped and placing it on the kitchen counters for you to organise. You would have protested this act of service, but he's right- fighting him all the time does get tiring.

In this light from the living room as the sun setting made your apartment glow and burst with light, Eunseok looks radiant. You hope he can't see you admiring him from the next room. It's almost as if you're a normal couple, moving into their first home and starting their new life together. It's a melancholy sight as you ponder the what if's.

He breaks down all of your boxes flat, humming to himself a song that you think you've heard at the end of parties when you'd be sat on someone's bedroom floor just talking or playing cards half-drunk. Eunseok turned his head towards you and you whipped your head away so fast it hurts your neck.

"You still have this?" he held up a mug that instantly flashed you back to 6 years ago. The mug is majority a light pink and wonky in places since you made it yourself from clay. It was a few months process making and painting the mug, but when you were 15 with the biggest crush on him, having a mug brandishing "Y/N + EUNSEOK" on it made you feel giddy inside.

"All my other mugs broke," you lied through your teeth, snatching it from his grip and placing it in a random empty cupboard, "My mother packed it for me when I moved to Oxford."

"Mhm, okay," you could tell he was smirking but you made yourself busy with the plates, "I'm gonna take the boxes down to the recycling. Do you want any more help?"

"I've had enough of you for today," you breathed out. Too much time with him truly drove you crazy, "But thanks."

"Anytime, princess. I'm just across the hall if you need me and I'll get your number whenever you get it set up." he wiped his hands on his jeans and have you that charming smile that made you fall in the first place.

You see him out wordlessly. You don't argue when he turns up the next day demanding for your number in case you ever needed anything from him (or if he wanted to come and bother you). You feign annoyance when one morning he's insisting that he ran out of coffee in his apartment and wanted some of yours. You leave him in your apartment because you were running late to class, but when you get home, you open the cupboard and try not to fall all over again when you see a matching, much lumpier, handmade blue mug that brandished the words "TO FOREVER <3" on it next to yours.

˗ˏˋ જ⁀➴ ˎˊ˗

You're tossing and turning in your seat as Eunseok shakes you gently. He laughs when you groan under your breath as he wakes you up, "Sit up. We're landing soon."

The sleep you got on the flight was long, but you still woke up incredibly tired since you kept getting woken up for meals. You were grateful that you could fly first class with separate seats and beds, otherwise you'd be much more groggy than you already were.

Buckling yourself in the seat next to Eunseok's, you yawn, "Eunseok, what the fuck is an engagement trip?"

"A trip celebrating our engagement, duh," he looks at you like you're stupid, so you shove him as hard as your tired body could muster, "Like a honeymoon but before. Never too many excuses to take a vacation. Plus, we're going to be busy this trip."

You've never taken a vacation with just Eunseok before. Sure, you've lived in three different countries together outside of Korea and gone on a couple of vacations as children and with a large group of friends, but never just the two of you with a purpose.

"I don't understand why our wedding planner couldn't just pick a venue for herself and call it a day. Why must we go all the way to Italy and do it ourselves?" you're up to your neck in work, but you couldn't protest when you found a week blocked off in your calendar by your assistant, telling you it was 'orders from above' AKA your father.

"It was my idea," he confesses with a shrug, "Won't it be nice if we actually like where we're getting married? If we chose it ourselves because we can see ourselves getting married there?"

It feels like your heart is clenching at the insinuations behind his words. He wants to get involved with your wedding planning, like it's a real wedding. You sniff and turn away from him. It is a real wedding, you remind yourself. You were going to get married legally and this wedding was real, no matter the intention behind it. No matter if you loved or hated each other, it was a real wedding.

"Yeah. Everywhere in Italy is nice so at leadt it'll be a good trip," the past couple of months since you've been officially engaged to Eunseok, you've been attempting to be nicer and hold back your retorts. You've made an effort to argue less and he's been trying to get on your good side. You've both been busy with work considering the news of the merger brought a whole new wave of problems, so you've had no time to interrogate his profession to "date" you. Thank gosh, because your heart would not be able to take that.

The plane lands soon enough and before you know it, you're in a private car going to your hotel. You were staying in Milan, but driving around Lake Como and Tuscany to tour the list of potential venues that your wedding planner had come up with. You were definitely going to be exhausted by the end of it.

The drive was relatively silent, just listening to music and looking out of the window, but when you arrive at the hotel, Eunseok opens the car door for you and snakes his arm around your waist as you walk up to the front desk, "Hello. We're checking in to the penthouse suite. For Song?"

The hotel clerk smiles sweetly, handing over your keys swiftly, "All ready for you both, Mr Song. Congratulations on your engagement."

You're spluttering a thank you with flushed cheeks as Eunseok drags you over to the elevator, "You told them?"

"I just wanted the free champagne that I assume will be up there," he grins cheekily and you roll your eyes. As if he couldn't afford it.

You are however delighted to find a small cake beside the bucket of ice cold champagne and you dig into the red velvet goodness as you watch Eunseok open up your suitcases and hang your clothes up in the master bedroom wardrobe meticulously. You're halfway into the cake when he drags his suitcases out of the room.

"Wait, where are you going?" you frown.

Eunseok snickers, "To the other bedroom? Why? Do you want me to stay with you?"

"Oh. I just didn't know there were two rooms." you say sheepishly.

Eunseok stops in his tracks, hand on his suitcase loosening, "So you went into this trip okay with the thought of sleeping with me? If so, I'll stay here with you then."

"No!" you call out, "Just- just shut up and go."

The smirk on his face is smug as he nods and continues his leave, "Alright, sweetheart, but let me know if you get nightmares and want company."

You bear the butter knife at him and he laughs melodically on his way out. You pop the champagne yourself and drown a glass down, hoping you'd be able to make it out the trip unscathed. He's running into the room with a pout after hearing the loud pop of the corkscrew, so you pour the both of you a glass and you clink them together as you chugged them back.

The days pass by similarly. You wake up and have breakfast together before embarking on a sleepy drive to a venue. You have lunch in endless terraces and gardens under the sun, basking in the heat and evaluating the venue you saw that morning. You both ooh and ahh at different venues that all look the same before you find a flaw in it that stops you from making the decision to host one of the most important days of your lives there. Some are too big, some too small, too pretentious, not pretty enough, the flowers aren't the ones you envisioned, the location too secluded or not enough. You always agree on the flaws of the venues and it's the penultimate full day when you make it to the final venue on the list.

"If I don't like this venue then I'm not marrying you," you huff in the car as it pulls up the driveway.

"Who knew wedding venues were so complicated?" Eunseok exhales in frustration, "Should we just get married in Seoul?"

You puff out your lips, "Italy was always my dream, but I was naive to the process."

Eunseok smiles and takes your hand, "I have faith in this one. At least I hope." The commitment he has to giving you your dream wedding despite it all is unwavering.

When you enter the final venue, you think that maybe it was the last on the list for a reason, since you're blown away every step you take through the grounds. The hallways to the main room is ornate and delicate at the same time, with pretty floral paintings wrapping the walls and big windows letting in the golden light. The room where your reception could be held is stunning with murals all over the walls and a dome ceiling that compliments it perfectly. It's neither too big, nor too small and there's little nooks and crannies for guests to nestle themselves in. You could see yourself in the middle, slow dancing with your head on your husband's shoulder.

"This is nice," Eunseok awes, coming up behind you with the grounds manager, "Very pretty."

You nod in agreement and ask to see the gardens, since you always wanted to get married outside in the sun. The manager gushes over the outside while she leads you out and your heart is pounding in anticipation. Eunseok probably guessed how giddy you were, because he joins you by your side and gives you a hopeful look.

"We're here. Most brides start from here and have the aisle straight down to the arch."

She throws open the double doors and you gasp in admiration at the sight in front of you. The stairs going down to the garden seen steep, but grand. You envision that your father could probably help you hobble down to the garden, where it was staged as a wedding venue. There's chairs laid out in rows, decorated in tulle and bows with an aisle adorned in flowers. At the end of the garden, there's an arch with vines wrapped around it and flowers creeping up. From where you were standing, you could see that this garden was actually on a balcony overlooking a lake that seemed to be glowing and sparkling as the slight wind caused some ripples on the surface

"I'll give you two some time to explore?" she proposes, to which Eunseok nods and wraps his hand around your wrist, tugging you down the stairs.

"First impressions?" he's looking around with blown out pupils as the two of you reach the bottom of the stairs and the beginning of the aisle.

"I like this one a lot," you shyly admit, "It's exactly what I imagined."

"I love it as well. Why don't you walk down the aisle and see how you feel. Imagine yourself on the day," he's taking off in front of you, running swiftly to the arch before you could even take a breath and get a word out.

At his antics, you let out a full-belly laugh and straighten out the ivory dress you happened to be wearing. You look down at the slip dress hitting your ankles and think it might be fate you chose to wear this specific dress on this specific day. You look up and find Eunseok suddenly frozen still at the other end, hands intertwined in front of him and his eyes trained solely on you.

When he notices that you meet his eyes, he gives you a gentle smile as he mouths to you, "Come here."

It takes you a few breaths to actually muster up the courage to follow his direction. You think that walking down a straight path shouldn't be such a big deal, but the thought that this could be the very steps you take to marry the same man at the end in less than a year's time strikes your heart.

The aisle is a soft and smooth stone, perfect for walking on in high heels. It's wide enough that a wedding dress wouldn't drag along the sides and knock over the flowers and long enough for anticipation to build as Eunseok gazes down at you from afar.

"Y/N," Eunseok calls over.

You take the first step and your breath catches in your throat. All you can look at is Eunseok now, with his shirt unbuttoned at the first three to expose some chest and his hair falling over his eyes. He keeps fidgeting with his fingers, as if he couldn't stand still and his lips are puckering and stretching as if he had much more to say.

The second step is easier than the first and the third one even more so. By the fifth step, Eunseok is chewing on his bottom lip and you're ridden with anticipation to meet him at the end.

With each step you take down the aisle, you're flashed back to all the crucial moments in your life with Song Eunseok so far.

You were sandbox best friends. You learned to walk together, and then ride bikes with each other. You learned to swim in the same swimming pool that still remained in your garden. You learned to ski and snowboard with each other in the blustery mountains of the alps. You were each other's first heartbreaks when you were teens. You took your first alcoholic drink together with your friends by the Han river, faces flushed red and hearts beating out of your chests at the prospect of getting caught. You got blackout drunk together for the first time during your first week of university. You posed together as you threw your graduation caps up in the air at the end of the three years. You chased each other around New York City, running around in blocks after he snatched your phone from your grasp when you would ignore him. You begrudgingly invited him to ride swan paddle boats with you in every lake and river around the city since he was the only person that would drop everything for you at a moment's notice. You would leave containers of home cooked food outside his doors when you noticed he was getting swamped with work, knowing he had the tendency to either order too much unhealthy takeout or stop eating altogether when busy.

With every step you take to meet Eunseok at the bottom of the aisle, you accept that Eunseok has been with you for every step of your life.

He's an arm's length away when you notice his eyes are glossier than usual. Eunseok refuses to break the stare between the two of you as you arrive in front of him, exactly where you would stand under the arch if you got married at this very space.

"Are you crying?" you whisper, afraid of your own voice.

He chortles and dabs at his eyes, "It's just the wind."

"Mhm," you hum, fighting back the smile threatening to expose your emotions, "What do you think?"

Eunseok takes a bold step towards you and closes the gap between your bodies. He's closer than you've ever had him and you can nearly feel his breath on your skin. It's making you dizzy but all you can do is keep your eyes on him.

"Eunseok," you murmur in a hushed tone.

His head is drifting closer down to yours, forehead nearly touching. If you moved your face even just by a centimetre, your noses would bump and you knew you wouldn't be able to stop yourself.

"Let's get married here," Eunseok nudges his face forwards. You have to stop yourself from pulling back even with the drumming in your chest, "You're going to look so beautiful. You do already."

"I like this place. Our parents would like it here too."

Eunseok's eyes flutter shut as he sighs and shakes his head gently, "No, let's get married here because we want to, not because our parents would like it. Let's get married because we want to."

"Eunseok," his name falls out of your mouth like it's the most sacred word you can say.

His forehead is still pressed against yours, his eyes squeezed tight and his palm comes up to make home on your cheek, "I love you. I always have."

Sincerity drips from his words and you know that this time, it's the real thing. It's the words you'd been dying to hear him say sincerely for a decade. It's the words that underlined every fight and argument you've had as adults. He finally and bravely bares his heart to you for the first time, still considerate as he always had been by giving you the choice to determine what will end up of the two of you.

There's something different about his profession of love after all you'd experienced together. Back then, when you confessed that you liked him, the world would probably say it was just some puppy love- a silly high school crush. Something that would fizzle over and dissolve when you would experience the real hardships of life and what it could throw at you. You think that a late confession carries a profound and heartfelt meaning like no other.

"Seok-"

He cuts you off before you could finish, pulling away from you and causing you to open your eyes, "I don't need an answer yet, Y/N. I just need you to know that I want to be with you. I want to be your boyfriend, your husband, your partner- whatever you want me to be. I want to make you only happy from now on, instead of angry or resentful. I want to be by your side and keep following you around the world. I want everything with you."

You've never felt more sure of anything else in the world when you bounce up on your tiptoes and capture his face between your hands, pressing your lips against his. It feels like every nerve ending in your body is on fire, but at the same time feeling relief as if this was the one thing in the world that could finally relieve you from all the anger and bitterness you had been displaying and trying to internalise for all these years. Deep down, you could never ever hate Song Eunseok, the boy who has had your heart since you were just young.

He's rigid for a split second while he processes your own confession, but he quickly regains enough composure to part his lips and deepen the kiss, moulding your lips to each other's. It's unlike anything he's ever felt before and he finally understood the real pleasure of kissing someone you really love. As he runs his tongue along your bottom lip, Eunseok knows that he could do this for the rest of his life.

"Song Eunseok, I love you too," your eyes are glistening with adoration as you pull away from his kiss, "Let's get married?"

When he finally looks you in the eye at the moment you give yourself back to him, he can't help the tears that finally break free from their barrier. He's laughing as he finally pulls you to his chest, wrapping his arms around your body in desperation of keeping you close to him. You nuzzle deeper into him and he tucks his head into your neck. His body is shaking with the laughter of relief and his heartstrings tug when he feels his shirt dampening at the exact spot where your face laid.

"You're the one I'll always choose to love," he coo's into your ear words that travel straight into your heart, "For the rest of my life, for the rest of yours."

You look down at your hand and breathe deeply as the ring glistens on your finger. The Italian sun makes it shine bright as the symbol of your love. You start thinking of what you want to engrave on the inside of the ring that you want to get him. You start thinking of the dress and suit you'll be wearing at this very spot soon enough. You're dreaming of the house you move into together and of the company you'll spearhead by each other's side. You fantasise over your future kids- the kids you hope will have his eyes and your nose. You yearn for the life you know Eunseok will give you and your heart is finally at peace, knowing it will always be him.

˗ˏˋ જ⁀➴ ˎˊ˗

#eunseok #riize #riize au #eunseok au #song eunseok #riize fic #riize fanfic #riize x reader #eunseok x reader #eunseok fluff #riize fluff #riize angst #riize imagine #riize one shot #riize fic recs #eunseok fic recs #arranged marriage au

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writingwithfolklore · 7 months

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Writing Foundations: Creating Paragraphs

You can have the best story in the world, but if it’s all in one chunk on the page, you may struggle to find people willing to read it. To break it up, you need to know where and when to create new paragraphs.

Every new paragraph starts with an indent. So, to create a new paragraph, hit the enter key, and then the tab key, which is typically on the left side of the Q and either says TAB or looks like two stacked arrows pointing in separate directions.

So when do you start a new paragraph?

1. Anytime a new character speaks

The most obvious place to break up your paragraph is when a new character is speaking. Take this example.

“Hi John,” said Mary as she walked into the room. John was reading a book, and tucked a bookmark between the pages as she sat next to him. “how was work?” “It was good,” she replied, “but my boss really didn’t like the draft I sent her.” “That’s too bad, I thought it was some of your better work.”

Vs.

“Hi John,” said Mary as she walked into the room. John was reading a book, and tucked a bookmark between the pages as she sat next to him. “How was work?” He asked. “It was good,” she replied, “but my boss really didn’t like the draft I sent her.” “That’s too bad, I thought it was some of your better work.”

See the difference? So you make a new line whenever a new character is speaking. In the case of Mary speaking twice, “It was good…” “but my boss…” we keep that in the same paragraph. Whereas when John speaks after Mary, it becomes its own paragraph.

The only time you may split the same character speaking is if they have a large chunk of dialogue. In that case, you can split their dialogue according to the next rule.

2. Any new idea

This isn’t necessarily a hard rule like the last one is. We have a lot of room to make interesting creative decisions when breaking up description or action. For the most part, though, you’ll want to break up your paragraph whenever there’s a new thought or idea. So:

A thin plastic film coated the room, making the furniture gleam in the sunlight streaming through the windows. On her right sat a couch upholstered in ivy coloured fabric, untouched by time. Anna swept her fingers through her hair, chewing on her lip. She watched Rick out of the corner of her eye, “What are you thinking?” The detective’s expression was completely neutral, though he clutched his pen tightly in one fist. In his other hand was a notebook, three questions written across it in blocky text, 1. Why are all the clocks stopped at 5:32? 2. Where’s the murder weapon? 3. Why did my wife leave me? “Same as the others,” he said, tapping his pen against the last question, “the plastic wrap killer.”

So in this example we go from describing the room, to describing an action Anna is doing, to describing the detective, and then his notes. These are all separate ideas, so we can split them into their own paragraphs.

As well, as long as it’s about the same character or within the same ‘idea’, description can be paired with dialogue. You can see Anna’s dialogue comes after the description of her. You can totally do this, or you can split it into its own paragraph if you’d like. It looks natural where it is because Anna is the subject of the paragraph, and she’s also the one speaking.

In the case of the detective speaking, his action comes between dialogue. Also allowed, since the detective is the subject of that paragraph.

3. Any new location or skip in time

Similar to the last, if the scene starts outside, when they move inside it’s a new paragraph. If they go into a new room, get into a car, etc. Any time they change location, it starts a new paragraph. Same for a skip in time. If you need to go from day to night, new paragraph.

Kayde looked anxiously up at the looming oak doors. The windows were dark, layered in years of dust and grime. It’s now or never, they thought. They pushed through the doors and into the foyer. Kayde seemed to wait there for hours, and by the time someone came to greet them, it was already dark outside.

4. For style/effect

This is one of my favourite parts of writing. Once you nail when you should be splitting your paragraphs, you can start to play with splitting them for effect. I do this quite a lot. Take this example:

She fixed an ugly stare at herself in the mirror, long locks of brown hair hanging in front of her eyes. A pair of sharp scissors gleamed at the edge of the glass, pinched between her fingers. Dania raised the scissors to her hair. Snip. A lock fell towards the sink, the edges rough and imperfect. Snip. Another. She chopped and hacked away at her hair until it was clumped in an unsightly pile over the drain of the sink, her head round and covered in patches where she didn’t quite get close enough to her skin. She was finally free.

While the cutting of her hair could be in the same paragraph, it gives it more drama and effect when it’s split. Any time a character is going through something shocking or emotional, maybe try playing around with the paragraph to see if you can add some additional drama to it.

Paragraphs can be as long or short as you’d like them to be, as long as you have intention behind it!

#writing #creative writing #writers #screenwriting #writing community #writing inspiration #filmmaking #books #film #writing advice #writing foundations #writing foundations: creating paragraphs #formatting paragraphs #paragraphs

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idyllicwillowtree · 7 months

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God Eddie, You're So In Love With Me.

Genre: Eddie Munson x Henderson!reader, fem!reader, angst/fluff, hurt/eventual comfort, friends to lovers

Summary: Being in Hellfire, you’ve been exposed to your fair share of bullying. One day, Jason takes it a step too far.

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: bullying, anaphylaxis, poisoning, no physical descriptions of Y/N so you don’t have to look like Dustin, reader wears makeup, reader uses she/her, reader has a peanut allergy, reader is called princess, swearing

Author’s note: I got this idea from an episode of Freaks and Geeks (which is an awesome show I totally recommend). Peanut allergies weren’t so common in the 80s so that’s why Jason is so ignorant and dismissive about it.

Sorry I haven’t written in a while, I was hibernating.

Enjoy!

Main Masterlist

Part 1:

Eddie proudly sauntered into first period with his head held high and a smirk on his lips. His mouth was watering in anticipation. He plopped himself down in the seat next to yours, wide eyes and a wicked grin plastered on his face, an eager hand open towards you.

“Wow Eddie. It’s 7:29, you got here with a minute to spare,” you said as you leaned over to grab the bite size Laffy Taffy from your backpack to place in Eddie’s hand. “I think this candy reward system is really working.”

“Of course it worked, it was your idea after all. But today’s a special day, I was definitely not going to not be here,” Eddie said with too much energy for this early in the morning. He stuffed the yellow taffy into his mouth and chewed it like a happy 5 year old, wiggling in his seat with excitement.

“Are you talking about the photo?”

“Yeah! Hellfire finally gets a spot in the yearbook. We shall finally leave our mark on this cesspool we call a school,” Eddie said through the glob of candy in his mouth. He swallowed the treat harshly as he got a good look at you, “you look great by the way.”

“Yeah?” you said shyly, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. You started fiddling with the hem of your Hellfire shirt, “I thought I’d go with a bit more eyeliner today.”

“Yeah, you did a great job princess.” With the excuse of admiring your eyeliner, Eddie was able to take a moment to study your features. Your gaze stayed on your hands, picking at a loose thread.

“God, Eddie. You’re so in love with me,” you said with a teasing smile.

Eddie barked out a laugh, dimples on full display as he tried not to let your words affect him too seriously.

“Great, the flirting freaks are back at it again.” Jason remarked from a few rows behind you. Both of you turned around in time to see Andy dramatically fake gagging.

Before you could hurl an insult back at them, Eddie took notice of what Jason was snacking on.

“Hey asshole, you can’t eat peanuts in class.”

“Yeah? And who’s gonna stop me, Munson? You?” Jason said through a full mouth, spitting out chunks as he laughed obnoxiously with Andy.

You simply rolled your eyes at Jason, annoyed with the jocks and their willingness to tease and fight so early in the morning.

Eddie’s grip tightened on the back of his chair. His white knuckles caught your eye and you reached out to sooth him, hoping he wouldn’t start a fight he couldn’t finish. The second your hand landed on his, the tension in his shoulders deflated and the fire in his eyes was snuffed out as he sent you a reassuring smile.

Jason waved around his ziplock tauntingly, “Seriously freak, let’s see if you can actually take these from-”

“I’ll take those,” Mrs. O’Donnell said as she walked in behind Jason and snatched the bag. “Mr. Carver, you know you’re not allowed food in my class, let alone peanuts.”

“But coach said we have to protein-load before the game tonight,” Jason wined.

“Too bad. Some allergies can be very serious,” You shrunk in your seat as the other students turned to stare at you, knowing you were the one she was referring to. “You can get these back after class,” Mrs. O’Donnell said as she rounded the corner of her desk to address her students. “Now, everyone, please open your textbooks to chapter six.”

You, being the diligent student you were, immediately followed orders. Eddie on the other hand didn’t even remember to bring his book bag to school, but at least he got his candy.

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

“I’m serious guys, I might have a crush on Mrs. O’Donnell now,” Eddie said to his bandmates as they sat in their unofficial assigned seats in the cafeteria.

“Just because an older female authority figure agreed with you and shut down Carver, doesn’t mean you should crush on your teacher dude,” Gareth said, shaking his head at the absurdity of it all.

“Besides, you already have a crush,” Jeff added with a teasing smile, the metal on his teeth catching the fluorescent lights.

“Are you guys talking about my sister?” Dustin said while throwing his lunch tray on the table, taking a seat next to Eddie. The rest of his sheep following close behind.

“No-”

“Yes,” all three of the older Hellfire members said in unison.

Eddie shot them a look that would’ve shut them up if the metalhead’s pale cheeks weren’t tinted pink.

“Gross,” Dustin added.

Mike’s brows did their signature furrow under his dark bangs, “I don’t get it, why doesn’t he just ask her out?” he said, purposefully ignoring Eddie’s presence at the table.

“GROSS,” Dustin repeated, hoping the subject would change.

Eddie was right there with him, picking up a pretzel and hurling it at Mike’s head, “I’d rather not share the complexities of the friendship-to-relationship pipeline with a baby freshman. And I. Don’t. Like. Her.” He growled, punctuating each word with a pretzel.

The metalhead’s angry scowl melted off his face at the sound of your laugh echoing through the high ceilings of the cafeteria. You were standing near the entrance with your Wonder Woman lunchbox in tow, tilting your head back as you chuckled at something Robin Buckley told you.

That was until Jason and his entourage of goons followed him in.

He had that damn bag of peanuts in his hand, swinging it around mockingly. Eddie watched as you became tense, eyes wide and glossy. You are practically hiding behind a fuming Robin.

Before the blonde could hurl her trumpet case at the jocks, Eddie stepped up behind you both, placing a ring clad hand gently on the small of your back to let you know he was there.

With his hand grounding you, you finally found your voice, “seriously Jason, if I come into contact with a peanut I could die.”

“Oh come on,” Jason said through a chuckle, “you’re that much of a freak that a little peanut is enough to kill you? I think you might be overreacting just a little.”

“Actually,” Dustin said as he came over to stand next to Eddie, “Anaphylaxis is incredibly dangerous. Allergic reactions to the proteins found in peanuts are cause by immunoglobulin E antibodies and can trigger severe inflammation and-”

“Dude, even her brother is a fucking dork,” Andy spat.

“Hey, don't talk to him like that,” Eddie said, stepping forward. You have always admired his fierce determination when defending your brother and the other freshmen. It’s part of what drew you to him in the first place. But this time there was no snarky comeback to Jason’s bullying. The severity of the situation on top of the jocks’ disregard for your safety was just pissing him off, making him uncharacteristically no-nonsense.

The group of letterman jackets erupted in a chorus of ‘oooohs’. The leader just licked his lips, eyeing Eddie before smirking at you.

"You know, you might be pretty if you actually tried."

It doesn’t have the effect on you that Jason had hoped, you could care less if he thought you were pretty. But before your athletically inexperienced friends could take on the basketball team, you plastered on your best fake smile.

“Thanks Jason, see you guys later,” you said as you pulled your friends away leaving him confused and unsatisfied by your reaction.

“What the hell, you’re just going to let him talk to you like that?” your brother protested.

“He’s never going to change, Dustin. I might as well play into it since he’s just trying to get a rise out of us.”

You wave bye to Robin as she went to sit with her band friends, all of them decked out in their extravagant green and yellow uniforms. Eddie slid Dustin’s tray away from the spot next to him so you could set your lunchbox there and sit at his left hand side. Dustin was muttering something about losing his seat but still scooched down, knowing there was no use in fighting it. Eddie always had you right next to him.

The next few minutes of lunch went by rather smoothly. Groups of students were taken out sporadically to go to the photo room and get their yearbook club photo taken with Nancy. Occasionally, you’d catch Jason sending you angry glares but you just ignored him in favor of listening to your fellow Hellfire members. They were rambunctiously throwing out theories about tonight's campaign while Eddie just sat there with his version of a poker face, not willing to spoil anything with a teasing grin plastered to his mouth.

His eyes connected with yours, feeling you staring at him. The moment he looked at you you bashfully lowered your eyes to the cup of applesauce you were stirring around. Eddie kept his gaze on you until Nancy walked up behind him.

“Alright Hellfire, you’re up,” Nancy said with a smile.

This was the first year Hellfire club was getting any sort of recognition in the yearbook. Previously, the teachers and students didn’t want to draw any more eyes to the alleged cult and their leader. Now that Nancy worked for the school, she played a big part in securing a photo for her brother’s club in the yearbook. Even though Eddie never liked conforming to frivolous High School expectations, he still felt honored. It was his last year after all (hopefully) and he wanted to make his mark.

You and the rest of the Hellfire members left your things at the lunch table and walked out of the cafeteria for the yearbook room down the hall. Your open applesauce was forgotten about as you followed Eddie out.

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

Your shoulders were still buzzing after taking the photo. Eddie had thrown his leather clad arm around you, pulling you closer to him, while his other hand did the sign of the horns. The smell of his cologne and the texture of his battle vest overwhelmed you so much you hoped it didn’t show in the photo. Although, the smirk Nancy sent you tells you it might have.

You and the rest of Hellfire sat back down in your original seats, besides your leader. As expected, Eddie had a lot of things to say in honor of your club getting recognized so he opted to stay standing.

“Hear ye, hear ye! Rejoice, for this day shall be etched in the annals of history as a testament to our unwavering spirit and valor!”

Going back to your lunch, you scoop up the velvety applesauce to resume eating. Expecting the familiar taste of sweet and tart, you flinched at the salty crunch and swallowed it on instinct.

“Let it be known that we have weathered the raging storm of schoolyard bullies, and emerged victorious! Our banners flying high, unfurled in the winds of destiny,” Eddie continued, not noticing your trepidation.

You frowned at the tickle in your throat that only continued to build as you tried coughing discreetly. The rest of the boys grinned, believing this was your way of hinting at Eddie to wrap up his speech.

“Let us raise our voices in jubilation, for today, we have proven that nothing is insurmountable to those who believe in their cause!” Eddie looked to you, hoping to see you looking up at him and smiling that way you do whenever he uses his renaissance voice. Instead he met your panicked eyes.

“Hey Henderson,” Jason called from across the cafeteria. “What happens now? Should we call an ambulance?” Andy shoved at his shoulder playfully and chortled alongside Jason.

Panic gripped you as you connected the dots.

“Yeah,” you wheezed, “call an ambulance.”

Part 2

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girlboylintjrwi · 24 days

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Honey, do you need a hot meal?

Troy is hungry. Lint is the meal.

trigger warnings for cannibalism and gore

hey guys..... i wrote this little thing in one day..... btw.... llintroller save meee... title is from Your body, My Temple by Will Wood

Troy and Lint are standing in In the middle of the living room. Lint has just told her that he wanted him to eat them. Not even that he could, but that he wanted her to.

And Troy can't deny, the idea is appealing. She thought maybe this was just some sick joke, Lint can be a little strange at times, but no. Lint is entirely serious. And Troy wants to eat.

Lint must be a genius, Troy thinks to herself. She doesn’t know what he wants to say in this moment, but she knows more than anything what he wants to do. What he needs to do.

“Dude, are you sure? Cause like, you could die, man…” Troy’s desire doesn’t mean he won’t hesitate. This is his best friend, after all.

“Your dad turns people into clocks, doesn’t he?”

She lunges towards them, straight for his cheek. He bites down and tears a bit of flesh away, and it’s even better than she could have imagined. She can’t even describe it. It’s just the kind of taste that you savor for as long as you can, especially when it’s someone as important to you as Lint is to Troy.

Troy sees Lint’s face before going in for another bite, this time the flesh of their neck. He looks shocked, maybe he expected her to say something before going in for a taste, but that doesn’t stop a small grin from appearing on their face.

And Troy just continues to tear away from Lint, bit by bit, piece by piece. He feels like an animal, but can she really help it? This is Lint. This is her best friend and he tastes so good.

This might just be the best thing he’s ever tasted. Lint isn’t just good, he’s perfect. The blood in Troy’s mouth is warm and the metallic taste makes him want more. He can’t stop, and surely Lint won’t survive much more of this. Troy knows that.

And yet, his tongue begs for more of that wonderful flavor. He can’t stop.

She loves Lint. In this moment, right now, she loves Lint more than ever before. Maybe it’s because Lint is all there is right now, or maybe he just likes the way they taste as she rips chunks of flesh away from their body. Either way, he loves Lint so very much. And they say actions speak louder than words, don’t they?

She barely even gives herself time to chew, he just keeps on taking more and more, relishing in it. The texture, the flavor, it’s all perfect to Troy. There isn’t a world where Lint isn’t perfect. Not in Troy’s eyes.

Tears fall down Lint’s face, he feels his life fading away from them, but this is Troy and this is all they’d ever dreamed of. They can’t think of a better way to go out. He wonders if Troy even notices that they’re dying, or if she’s too busy tearing him apart.

Eventually, Troy finishes his meal, but Lint is long gone by then. She doesn’t know when it happened. It’s hard for her to think about anything else, part of him wants more, but he knows it’s time to put them away. Maybe next time she’ll try a bit of cooking.

Should Troy feel bad? He just ate her best friend, after all. But no, Troy doesn’t feel anything but love for them. The consequences of her actions haven’t hit him yet, so why should it matter?

Lint, what’s left of them, barely fits in the freezer. Troy needs to go out and buy a bigger one. And some ice. She figures she should clean up first, though. He washes the blood from her hair and skin, gets a different outfit, wonders if the stains will ever leave that shirt, and he’d be on his way if he didn’t hear a quiet voice behind her. It has that bug-like quality to it, like someone Troy knows; knew. Lint.

“Did I taste good?”

ERM!!! END NOTES I GUESS??????

i have never ever written anything like this and MAN it was fun.

lint is a freaking ghost now by the way because i have so many Thoughts about ghost lint and clockwork lint......... may write more in the future too. just like about ghost lint/clockwork lint sometimes and troy shenanigans

i hope you had fun reading this. hope it was a hit for the lintroller nation

#I HOPE THIS IS A HIT WITH THE LINTROLLER NATION. WE ALL AGREE THAT LINT IS A FREAK RIGHT.#TROY CAN BE A LITTLE FREAK TOO. FOR ENRICHMENT #I MEAN HE FUCKING BARKS DUDE. HE BARKS. HE IS A DOG. LET HIM EAT PEOPLE #also he/hers troy and he/they lint real. to me.#ratmouse writing #tw cannibalism #cw cannibalism #jrwi lintroller #lint jrwi #jrwi lint #troy jrwi #jrwi troy #troy lougferd #tramilton lougferd #jrwi fanfiction

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tending-the-hearth · 1 year

Text

everything i loved about "the little mermaid" live action

Ariel's melody being her siren song!! that little new bit of lore!! i also really liked that it added more depth as to why Ursula wanted her voice in exchange for her becoming human

the way Ariel became almost angry during the bridge of "Part of Your World", she was so frustrated that she couldn't do the things she was dreaming about, like YES let her be mad!!

full body chills during "Part of Your World" + the first reprise

Ariel helping Max onto the boat 😭😭😭

I've mentioned this before, but Ariel hearing Eric's voice before seeing him!!! hearing him sing before seeing him!!! agh!!!!

Eric holding Ariel's hand on the shore after she rescues him 😭

the detail put into each of Ariel's sisters was so stunning, i'm so excited to read more about them in the books! i loved that they each had their own specific vibe

THEY INCLUDED THE FACT THAT URSULA AND TRITON ARE SIBLINGS YES THANK YOU VERY MUCH

"For the First Time" being a voice over, as Ariel's thoughts, and then the scene shifting to complete darkness except for her to represent us being in her head and hearing her thoughts, and the way it gets cut off when she realizes she can't say "hello" to Eric? i cried

The Jodi Benson cameo and her giving Halle!Ariel the fork 😭 literally her passing on the mantel of Ariel 😭😭

Eric and Ariel being total nerds with each other??

The way Ariel "told" Eric her name using the constellations???? and him saying it was written in the stars???? hello????

Also Eric saying "my little mermaid" made me so soft wtf

Eric and Ariel running around and giggling in the castle and being the definition of puppy love like they're so goofy and in love i adore them

the "Part of Your World" reprise after Ariel sees Eric with Vanessa shattered my heart, the MOST heartbreaking song

Grimsby kicking the ring away after it falls near him, my man knew exactly what was going on, he's known Ariel for three days and is already a ride or die

just Ariel and Eric holding each other so tightly after she gets her voice back, and Eric refusing to let her go until Ursula literally has to throw him away

ARIEL BEING THE ONE TO KILL URSULA USING THE SKILLS SHE SAW ERIC USE OH MY GOD IT WORKED SO SO WELL

i like that they added a chunk of time passing between Ursula's death and Eric and Ariel reuniting, it added a little extra drama and emotion when they finally saw each other again!

listen i'm an absolute sucker for a "hug before kiss" reunion and i was SO happy that Eric and Ariel had that, it fit them and their relationship perfectly, the way Eric just clung to her, and Ariel's happy smile as she hugged him back 😭

The mermaid statue and the dress representing the land vs. the sea???? and both returning back to where they're supposed to be but having new meanings????

Ariel's wedding dress being pink to (probably) pay homage to her pink ballgown in the animated movie was such a good touch, and i loved the length!!

Triton and Ariel's goodbye, where he says "you shouldn't have had to give up your voice for me to hear you"???? hello my father issues jumped tf out and had me sobbing in the theater

literally the entire movie was so beautiful, i could talk about it for hours, this is the best live action remake honestly, and Eric and Ariel (specifically the live action version obvi) have moved up to become my favorite Disney Princess/Prince pairing, just behind Belle and Adam (bc let's be honest, nothing can top them)

@queen-with-the-quill bc i know you're seeing it soon! more things i forgot to tell you lol

#the little mermaid #the little mermaid 2023 #the little mermaid spoilers #ariel #prince eric #disney

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plussizefantasia · 4 months

Text

Don't Call Me Kitty

Bucky Barnes x Black Cat! Reader

Word Count: 2k

Chapter 1/6

Next>

Warnings: Reader is plus size and it's talked about being somewhat of a negative thing (its not) , language, I think that's it

AN: This is part one of the BlackCat!Reader x Bucky work that I've been working on for a while. It was a request although I can't seem to find the original request anymore. This is part one of six, all fully written but I decided to split it up because this is by far the longest thing I've ever written and I wanted to publish it in chunks. Let me know if you like it, or if the rest of this should just stay hidden in my drafts for all of eternity.

If you had to spend one more fucking minute in the same car as James Buchanan Barnes, one of you would be dying. And you are pretty fucking confident that it won't be you.

He won't get off your back. Every chance he has it seems like he launches himself at the opportunity to remind everyone that you weren’t always the goody two shoes he thinks you are pretending to be. But God forbid you call him out on the obvious hypocrisy he's spewing because then you’d have to face Rogers and the inevitable tirade he’d go off on about how his best friend was never a bad man, just deeply broken and how the actions he’d taken while under Hydra’s control were not his own.

You don’t take issue with Barnes bringing up your past, it's not a secret. Everyone on the team had at one point been the focus of your ire on one of your bad days and that more often than not led to some sort of discussion where you would disclose more and more about the things you were trying to forget. Your issue with Barnes was that he was trying to insinuate you were one of the good guys. And you’d rather die than admit you were an Avenger.

You are not, nor will you ever be a good guy. You aren’t necessarily a bad guy, but you are not a goody two shoes. Barnes knows that, he also knows that it pisses you off to no end when he tries to tell everyone that you're acting like one.

“Shoulda seen the way she was sucking up to Fury Stevie, she’s trying to be teacher’s pet I’m tellin’ ya.” You were not sucking up to Fury you were stealing his wallet and trying to distract him so he wouldn’t notice the fifty bucks you lifted, but Barnes didn’t need to know that.

The worst thing about this hate that you have for James Barnes was the fact that you know deep down you don’t hate him at all. Sure, he pushes your buttons and knows just what to say to get you to want to knock his pretty little teeth out. But he's also a genuinely good guy and most of the time isn't all that bad to be around. But god it's so much easier to hate him than it is to sift through all those feelings.

There was also the fact that the two of you work well together. You can be bickering one second and covering each other’s sixes flawlessly the next. You have a theory on that though, you think that because both of you had been forced to work with people you didn’t trust very much at one point or another you got used to getting the job done no matter what other feelings were floating around in the background. That's what you try to convince yourself is the case. The idea that you and Barnes simply make a good team is nauseating.

Barnes isn’t only good to have in the field though, he has proved his worth off the battlefield when he knocked around some poor recruit who had been running his mouth about you in the training gym. The kid couldn’t have been more than twenty and honesty you weren’t going to hold his ignorance against him. If he underestimated you because of your size, then that was on him and in a way, was only gonna help you in the long run.

That was something that you had noticed early on, that most people couldn’t fathom that someone who wasn't a size four could be as good at your job as you are. “Most People” also included people on your team, it had taken you saving Tony’s life in the field more than once for him to admit that he was wrong about you. You are still trying to convince Thor that just because you look soft does not mean you can’t still kick his ass.

You have made people’s lack of faith in you into a good thing. Rich guys aren’t worried about their wallets or watches when a meek little thing bumps into them on the subway and who would suspect the overweight chick to be the one who scales the sides of buildings to get her hands on some unreleased tech from Hammer’s R&D department? Bucky Barnes.

Bucky has never regarded you with the same kind of hesitance as the others. He has never once made it seem like he thought you couldn’t get the job done because you were bigger. And you had to admit, it's refreshing. Not that you need his approval but it's still nice to not be looked at with some kind of doubt, or incredulity. That doesn’t mean that he doesn’t piss you off though.

“I swear to God Barnes, if you change the radio station one more time I’m gonna cover your whole arm in fucking extra strength magnets while you're asleep.” An interesting threat sure, but one you will one hundred percent follow through on.

“The station keeps changing to static, kitty, you want to listen to static for the next three hours?” He asks. He's right, you are both on your way to some ball in Alabama and according to Tony, all the Quinjets are in use for this weekend (bullshit), which leaves you and Bucky to get there the old fashion way, a road trip.

You're already eight hours in and are currently driving through the small towns and mountains that cover a good section of the south. Which means that the radio is cutting in and out. And yeah he's right, you don’t want to listen to static but you also don’t want to give him the satisfaction.

“I’d prefer the goddamn static over the song changing every five fucking seconds.”

“Well, it’s either that or silence, kitty.”

“First of all Barnes, I’ve told you not to call me kitty. It’s demeaning. Secondly, maybe some silence will do you good, you might be able to hear yourself think for once. If you’re capable of thinking.” You shoot back at him.

“Oh, kitty I have plenty of thoughts I’m pretty sure I think enough for the two of us.” He looks at you without turning his head away from the road, giving you a sidelong glance.

“Oh yeah, about what? How to get more beefy? Whatever the next idiotic insult you’ll hurl at our resident birdbrain will be? Whether or not you'll get wrinkles from the perpetual furrow in your brow?”

“I don’t think you want to know what goes on in my head, Mittens.” He pulls his bottom lip up in between his teeth to stop the smirk that is spreading across his face.

“You did not just call me fucking Mittens” Your jaw is practically on the floor. The audacity of this man.

“You said I couldn’t call you kitty. What are my other options?”

“Maybe my name? Asshole.” You also have to fight back a smile. Teasing Barnes is nice, it was the closest thing you have to a genuine relationship. Too bad you can’t stand him.

“You memorized your cover?” He asks you. You almost scoffed at him, you're not a goddamn amateur.

“Of, course. I’m Debrah Longborne, Georgian peach and heiress to my Daddy’s large fruit processing fortune.” This mission is a simple one. You're here to take down a corrupt governor and what better place to do than at the gala he and his wife organize every year? You had Tony donate to his wife’s foundation under your cover name. Large enough to draw attention but not too much attention that you can’t get your job done. “And you…?”

“Brantley Moore, Law professor at Vanderbilt, and your arm candy for the night.” You like going undercover, and this assignment is a short one, just one weekend. It's almost like being another person, just with all your skills and an ulterior motive.

“Who the hell picked the name Brantley?” You ask.

“I know right, I sound like some preppy douchebag”

“Not too far off then.”

“Fuck off.” He laughs. You like his laugh. His eyes crinkle in the corners when he does it, a brief glimpse into the years he has lived through, not all sunshine and rainbows, but enough joy to have laugh lines.

“So Debrah and Brantley met where?”

“Vanderbilt has society mixers every winter, where the professors and some select students get the chance to network with some donors and other important people. It’s a believable story plus there’s over a thousand attendees at these things which makes it easy to slip our names onto the list.”

“And whose idea was that?” you lift an eyebrow. “Mine.”

“How do you know about the Vanderbilt mixers?”

“I had a life before I met you, didn’t you know that.”

“I knew you had a life I guess I just didn’t assume it involved rubbing elbows with southern socialites at prestigious university parties.”

“I wasn’t rubbing elbows, it was for a deal made by Peirce with the university president, I was there as a bodyguard for Pierce and to cover our tracks when things inevitably got bloody.” Any hint of teasing falls from Bucky’s voice. He says shit like that sometimes. Shit that you think he says to scare you or to remind you how dangerous he was. All it does is make you sad. Nobody deserves to go through what he had, and you hate that those evil bastards had taken a great man and mangled him.

The conversation peters out after his revelation. The two of you ride in silence for the next two hours. Thirty minutes in, you get closer to the city and the radio sputters back to life. Bucky reaches to turn it off.

When you finally reach the hotel both of you are a bit on edge. You’ve been driving all day, switching back and forth every few hours but Bucky’s silence for the last little stretch seems to have affected both of you more than you’d thought.

Still, you have a job to do and you’ll be damned if you let the metal-armed nuisance ruin your reputation for perfect follow-throughs. You grab your small weekender bag out of the backseat and make your way to the front desk. You school your features and dust off the southern belle persona that has been stashed away in your metaphorical conman toolbelt.

You can feel Bucky trailing behind you, and an idea pops into your head. Swiftly turning on your heel you pass your bag into his unoccupied hand. Not giving him a chance to say no you rotate back around and march forward at a pace fitting to a very busy society woman.

Bucky sputters behind you and you toss over your shoulder, “If I’m playing an heiress this weekend, I'm not lifting a goddamn finger if I don’t have to.”

Marching the rest of the way to the desk you flash the young woman behind the counter a polite smile, “Room for Longborne”. She immediately matches your smile and begins typing away on her keyboard pulling up the reservation that was made for your cover.

“Of Course Ms. Longborne, I have you down for the Iris sweet for three nights is that correct?”

“Sounds correct to me, although if you could hold the room for one more day that would be just peachy of you, we don’t know how long our business here is going to take and it’s better to be safe than sorry. You understand of course.” You put every ounce of Southern charm into your words and pray to God that this interaction can be over sooner rather than later.

“Of course Ms., Here are your keys. Your room is on our twelfth floor and the number is embossed on the front of the card.” She hands you a package of three cards across the desk. “If you need anything at all don’t hesitate to call.”

You nod, taking the key cards from her hand, and motion for Bucky to follow you to the elevator.

The ride up to the twelfth floor is silent, much like the last stretch of the car ride. What you aren’t expecting is Bucky’s exclamation when he walks into the room before you.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” The first words Barnes has uttered in nearly two hours. “There's only one fucking bed.”

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0daylighthours0 · 6 months

Text

A Deep Dive into Milkvan and Byler's Development: If Milkvan Was Endgame All Along, Why Was it Written Like This???

SO. I've been rewatching st with my mother, who's never seen it before. And she was a fan of milkvan throughout seasons 1 and 2. Viewing those seasons again I could see why, they're cute. However, come season 3 and INSTANT distaste. And, listen, my mother is not the consciously shipping gal. She simply routes for main character pairings as writers intend, doesn't read between the lines, doesn't nothing. And she does NOT know my own opinions on the pairing. In other words, completely unbiased, uninternet drama influenced eyes. We've now reached season 3 and, after getting through a chunk of it, I asked her,

"so what do you think of Mike and El?"

and she expressed to me that they seem to be, quote:

"not very good together."

She said El's character doesn't suit the way she's acting now (in the first few episodes, concerning Mike), that Mike is more likeable and interesting when he's away from her. She doesn't like the way they ditched the party, and when it comes to their 'making out' the scenes are seen by her from Hopper's perspective (in other words, distasteful). She claimed that they'd be much better characters as friends.

And ya know what, she's right. And I mean like - duh, that's what we've been saying all this time, I'm not stating anything new here. But guys, wouldn't it be strange if the central couple of the show, pivotal that it is liked by audiences and is rooted for by them as they are THE pair, would be so dislikable like this? So uninteresting, so cliche.

I mean, okay, let's do a little mental experiment I like to do to test if I'm not just acting delulu. Let's play a game. In this game, milkvan ARE meant to be endgame. They are in love, they were all along, and they're here to draw in viewers and appease all El stans. Now, seasons 1 and 2 their relationship is honestly fine. Surface level, yeah, people will watch and appreciate them. They perfectly blend in with all the other neat pairings of the seasons, and have their own unique character traits to stand out as a main couple.

Just pretending our mate Will doesn't exist, we now get into season 3. Now, writers have nothing to lose here. If you've finished season 2, you probably like milkvan already. The issue is that they're already together now, so what's the conflict going to be? The arc? And every central couple needs that conflict to stay juicy.

Just take a look:

Jancy: quarrels, struggle to understand one another

Jopper: not yet together, one sided? will they won't they

Lumax: ...

Lumax? Lumax. Huh, guess they were simply together. Some loveable bickering, maintained a friendly dynamic while clearly in closer proximity. Well then, writers can do the same for milkvan right? Well, yes easily. But one might argue that since they are supposed to be THE pairing they need more going on between them than that. So what'll it be? Well, it seems that writers thought,

"hey, why not break them up?"

ok so.. that's a bit risky. I mean you want people to like this ship, if you break them up then that threats: 1. there being a disliking to one or both characters, 2. coming off generic if done incorrectly, 3. the break up might make no sense considering how in love they came off as just a season ago. But hey.. it could work, if done right. Some kind of misunderstanding, similar to Jancy. Maybe an argument leading to a sudden parting. I mean, yeah, Yeah! I can see that. Perhaps Mike is being too overprotective whilst El's trying to sacrifice herself for something, so she NEEDS to separate herself from him attempting to hurt him less. Or, I dunno, something akin. What's crucial is that us, AS THE AUDIENCE, still know them to be deeply in love. I mean, we have to still want them to be together. And we've seen couple trouble before. Just take a look at Lumax season 4 - did you or did you not want the best for both of them as a pair? You most likely did. See, it's doable. So did people like milkvan season 3 the same way, even after a separation plot? No.

Okay well, there are obviously those who'll always love milkvan no matter but, see, season 3 tainted it. "We need to write them like this cause it's more realistic to teenager behavior" my ars. You can make it messy without making it icky. Not only did it sour their unique dynamic, it flabbergastingly stomped on Mike as a character.

Honestly, I feel Mike has always been a mild struggle to write. Season 1 his motivations were 'find Will' (who still doesn't exist in our mind game yet shh) and 'protect El'. This worked well for him. Afterwards though, El and Will became more separate plots to him. But as a main character it remained integral that he be closely linked to them somehow. This sets him apart from Lucas and Dustin, who can easily be given any arc any season as their plots have the flexibility of a side quest nature. Since what Mike does is meant to matter more - with there probably being a better way of phrasing that but you know what I mean - it's harder knowing what he'll do when El and Will (who we'll GET to sh.) are their own separate people. And Mike is just a boy, he doesn't have super powers and he isn't a cop, which leaves there even less for him to do which is of significance. Season 2 writers decided upon having him support Will's arc, making himself of enough relevance by being able to take credit for some Will development in the story, and the plots that surrounded that, and then Mike was thrown a little bone by being the one to come up with the idea of burning those vines in the finale.

Truthfully, you don't really remember Mike's deeds much when reminiscing the series. It isn't like Dustin who's bond with Dart sticks to everyone, or Nancy and Jonathan responsible for kicking out Hawkins Lab. This is due to them, again, being able to traverse all sorts of adventures without limits. But my guy Mike can't do dat. Sadly, this kind of leads to him coming of as a little.. well... insignificant. And I know I know, the Mike truthers are gonna come at my throat. And hey! I love him too. I only want the best for my boy.

This makes season 3 a unique case cause it seems that, for the plot they decided they wanted, writers actually had to almost entirely change his character. I mean mate s2 Mike and s3 Mike are two different peoples, don't even. And I don't believe that the Duffers had their story and character turnouts completely drawn out from the very start at all. If I was to guess, I'd assume they have vague ideas of little plots they plan to include in future, but there is definitely a lot that has come unpredicted or changed throughout st's runtime. And one of those phenomenons are Michael Wheeler. So they decided to make this guy a di-

So they decided to make him more douchy, more movie typical teenage guy. It's not as if he wholly sucked, he didn't, but he didn't really do much. Whined about his girlfriend, separated the party. I mean what even was his arc? (UnLESS–)

You see, if milkvan is written to be loved, then season 3 was strike one. All of its charm was stripped away. It seems they had some cute scenes after their reconciliation, but it's not enough. It's just sort of

"oh, ok, so they're happy with eachother now. yayy."

and Stranger Things should want to be anything but boring. Sure they often enjoy indulging in tropes, but they always do something different with them. Something standoutish. And from this point on milkvan just got dull. Either writers ran out of ideas or lost interest, honestly (still with our mind game of telling ourselves they're meant to be).

But it's okay. Look, so season 3 was a bit rocky, maybe lost a couple of fans for the guys, but it is salvageable. Easily, easily. Looks like we want a plot of Mike struggling to tell El he loves her. Great! Much to work with.

So let's get into it. Season 4! Choices were... made. And, okay, now we can't go any further without bringing in our boy Will.

Mike is intrinsically tied to Will and El and has been from the start. Maybe Will was more of an accident. Maybe s1 Will was just a plot device for Mike, then s2 Will was a plot device again and Mike needed to be there as the main boy character. Come season 3 and it seems their relationship still matters. Will was sidelined - hard - so most of Mike's moments revolved around El. But as his bond with Mike is the only that's been properly built up, that's the only friend we'll get him interacting with in a way that matters. So the Mike and Will tie continues!

But that does not have to be the case for season 4. Now the writers have a chance.

They made Will gay.

Ok so.. ok so yeah that's fine. Yeah! I mean they didn't have to do that, might put them in hot water with the bylers since milkvan is their golden beauty but.. you know what no no that's okay. He's been hinted at being queer since episode 1, why not make it canon! Cool that works. Explore that, especially since we now have Vecna who can easily target Will for this. Give him a boyfriend! Or a guy crush. He's at a new school now? That's cool. Maybe we can explore some new male character Will's taken interest in. Hey maybe he meets someone who interests him which rises to surface his whole sexuality plot and-

he's in love with Mike.

Ok. No. No. What are you doing? What do you mean?? You didn't have to do that. Strike- strike EFING TWO mates! Strike. 👏 efing. 👏 2!

This was part 1. I am tired and gots to get my ars in bed. But ohohoh, do not worry. I am just getting started.

#anti milkvan #anti mileven #byler #byeler #stranger things #mike wheeler #will byers #byler is real #byler is endgame #byler analysis #byler nation #byler proof #byler is canon #byler endgame #byler tumblr #stranger things 4

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turcott3 · 20 days

Text

angel

matt rempe x fem! reader

warnings?: switches from third to second pov a few times, cursing, talks of fighting, talks of smut, crying, alcohol

loosely based on black mirror episode ‘arkangel’

(third person will be written in italics)

masterlist

2011

you found your way to the open pavement as the final school bell rang. the basketball court and black top was where everyone hung out that didn’t ride the bus, which was honestly a good chunk of people.

you found your way to your everyday meeting spot, and sat down on the large rock. the same rock where you met up with your sister everyday. you noticed the trouble maker kid outside as well.

his name was matthew. he was in the third grade, you in first.

you tend to watch him from afar, listening in on his conversations. something about him drew you in. you were so intrigued by his presence. recently, you’d discovered that he plays hockey, and now he was getting deeper into it

hockey this, hockey that. that’s all he talked about now.

all his friends were called over by their parents one by one and soon he was left alone, drawing his attention to you. he walks quickly over to you.

the two of you knew each other vaguely, you were at least on a first name basis given you’d been outside together many times before your sister graced you with her presence.

“so you play hockey?” you ask.

“yeah, how’d you know?” he asks, tilting his head to the side slightly.

“well i just heard you talking.” you replied.

“oh so you were snooping?” he retorts.

“well no i-“

“you wanna learn about it?” he offers and you nod.

“i think i should tell you about my favorite part.” he smirks.

he begins rambling on vaguely about the sport but focusing on his alleged favorite part.

fighting.

“and then he takes his fist and he-“

“matthew stop it!” your sister shouts, speed walking into frame.

“what?” he asks.

“stopping scaring my sister. you’re freaking her out with all your scary, violent stuff.”

“i haven’t even told her anything about it yet.” he spat his words out strongly at her.

“whatever. she’s 6, she doesn’t need to know about that stuff.” your sister says clenching your shoulder one last time.

“you can tell me another time.” you whisper to him, guarding your mouth from her view.

“i heard that y/n. and no, he won’t tell you another time. come on, mom is waiting.” she says tugging your sleeve. you couldn’t help but keep your eyes locked on his frame as he directed his story elsewhere. silly, frantic punching motions coming from the boy.

2013

you sat alone on the ground as you watched all the kids run around at recess.

more specifically, matt playing football with his friends.

you sighed as you picked the small weed flowers, stuffing the pretty ones in your pocket for later. you hear yells from the group of boys playing football and look up, seeing matthew slow to a stop, his eyes on you.

“hey guys uh, ill be back in a few.” he shouts, jogging in your direction. you felt a lump in your throat as he approached.

“hey y/n.”

“hi.”

“what’s wrong? everything okay?” he asks, genuine concern lining his tone.

“yeah, my friend is sick today so, i don’t have anyone to play with.”

“i’m sorry, here,” he pauses sitting down next to you, “now you have someone.”

you smile at the gesture. as much of a bad, misbehaved kid he was, he was always so kind to you, and you never knew why.

“so you play football now?” you ask, looking at the flowers you picked.

“nah, just here. can’t play hockey at recess can i?” he asks leaning closer, nudging your shoulder.

“yeah i guess you’re right.” you giggle.

“well since my sisters in middle school now, you can finally tell me about hockey. i just don’t wanna stop your game over there.” you continue.

“they can play without me.” he simply replies.

“oh…. okay.”

“so you wanna hear about it now aye?” he teases.

“yeah.” you reply shyly. he goes on to tell you about the new rules he was learning, obviously building up to his favorite part.

the fighting. again.

“i’m a lot bigger than the other guys so, it’s easy for me to beat them up.” he says.

“really?”

“yeah, i think i’ve broken a few noses. you should look on youtube when you get home. just look up hockey fights. they’re awesome.” he tells you finally as your teacher called out for you to come back inside.

“thank you for sitting with me matthew.”

“yeah you’re welcome, oh, and you can call me matt by the way.” he replies as you nod and walk away from him. growing more and more curious about him by the day.

2017

you were a month into your seventh grade year, freshly 13 years old. matt had moved on up to highschool. it made you a little sad not seeing him in the halls during school but since you rode with your sister, who was now a junior, you saw him sitting outside once school got out.

you sighed as you walked past him at a distance. swarmed by girls he seemed mildly interested in.

“ooo shiny new hockey player. kiss my ass.” you mumble to yourself, keeping your head pointed to the ground as you walked to your sisters car. you heard matt’s voice in the distance telling the girls he’d catch them later.

“y/n, wait up.” he calls to you, jogging to catch up to you.

“hey matt.” you smile lightly, blushing at him ditching all those girls to see you.

“how’s big ol’ seventh grade going for ya?” he asks as you continue walking.

“oh it’s good. kinda boring. middle school is dumb.”

“yeah well, i miss seeing you in the halls. highschool better come quick. i’ll catch you later y/n, my moms here.” he nudges your arm as you wave bye to him.

“was that matt?” your sister asks as you approach the car.

“yeah it was.”

“what did he want?” she scoffs as you both shut your car doors.

“he’s not some evil, disgusting monster you know? we’re friends, kinda.” you reply.

“i just don’t want him to be a bad influence on you.”

“you don’t see me fighting people at school do you?”

“well no-“

“then there you go. he’s not.”

“okay y/n.” she replies, pulling out into the road and driving home.

you had no idea why she had formed this resentment for him. he hadn’t done anything to her, she just took what she heard of him and ran with it.

the rest of the drive home was quiet, she made you mad and you were done. defending matt against your sister wasn’t on the books today, but you were sure to get an earful from your mother later.

2018

you walked with your friend away from the buses and to the side entrance of the school, seeing matt leaned up against his brand new range rover, girls and his friends swarmed in a small group around him.

“look at that, matt’s sick new ride.”

“yeah.”

“let’s go see it.” she says grabbing your hand and dragging you in his direction.

“y/n.” he shouts, everyone’s attention directing to you.

“nice new wheels.” your friend says, staring into his soul, but him still having eyes on you.

“how you been, haven’t seen you around much this summer.” he asks you honestly.

“oh i’m good thanks matt. and yeah, nice car.” you blush.

“thanks. bells ringing soon. we should get going yeah?” he says leaning up off his car leaving his crew behind, slinging an arm over your shoulder as eyes hit you like daggers.

“can’t let you get lost on your first day.” he says and you giggle.

“matt.” you mumble and he stops outside your classroom, your friend waving as she turns off down another hall.

“what’s up?” he replies.

“everyone’s staring at me.” you say, escaping his grip.

“it’s just because of my new car, trust me, they don’t actually want me…. i think.” he doubts his words looking around.

“matt you know that’s not true.”

“okay whatever it doesn’t matter, i don’t give two shits about people. they stare, they stare. that doesn’t change me walking you to class.” he says.

“well you need to get to yours before you’re late.”

“yeah yeah i know, meet me after school today though, ill give you a ride home.” he he says as nudges your shoulder.

“okay, bye.” you wave as he walks off.

“meet me after school.” you whisper to yourself and scoff.

you sat with an old friend in class and she mentions the homecoming dance coming early. something you’d totally forgotten about.

“oh shit you’re right. i gotta start looking.” you giggle as the teacher begins the lecture.

hours later you found yourself walking to matt’s car, where he once again stood leaned against it. once you were close he climbed in, you shortly behind.

“why are you taking me home?”

“felt like being nice.”

“oh, okay.”

“so what was it you wanted to talk to me about?” you asked interrupting the silence.

“i just wanted to ask if you’d go to homecoming with me? i know it’s early so i figured i should get ahead.” he says turning his head to you, a blush spreading across your face.

“no way, no. you’re not going with him.” your mom says as you sat at the counter.

“mom, why not.” you groan.

“because, that kid is bad news y/n. i don’t trust him.”

“he’s not though, he’s perfectly fine.”

“and i don’t believe you. you can go with your friends, no means no.” she says, setting your plate down on the counter.

“whatever.” you reply, knowing you’re gonna have to text him the news within the next hour.

a short month later you found yourself all ready for the dance.

“you look beautiful.” your mom smiles as you walk down the stairs. you were meeting your friends for dinner, and still going to the dance with matt. behind her back of course, you didn’t want to tell him no.

you spent a while at the dance before you left with matt and a few friends for a bonfire by the lake, wrapped in matt’s blazer.

“can you pass me that?” he says lowly next to you as his friend tosses him a beer.

“matt, you drove.”

“i know, this is for you to drink.” he smiles.

“what?”

“come on y/n. you know you’re safe with me.” he says unscrewing the cap and handing it to you. you couldn’t find it in yourself to deny him.

you’d never drank before and considering you were 15, you were a light weight. matt being 16 you expected the same but were surprised that he decided to only have one, which hardly gave him a buzz. next thing you knew you were sat in his lap on the log, hug him onto him. things around the fire had gotten awkward with all the couples making out.

“can we go sit in your car?” you whisper to him and he agrees, helping you off his lap and holding your hand all the way to the car, knowing uneven ground and heels were a recipe for disaster.

“i brought some stuff in case of something like this.” he says opening the back doors and revealing a few blankets and pillows. you looked up at him with a hazy smile as he tossed them in the trunk and pushed the seats down, the two of you climbing in and setting up camp.

you shed the blazer, tossing it in the front seat as you laid in a comfortable silence, the two front windows cracked for airflow.

“so.” matt says, leaning up on an elbow.

“so?”

“how’s the night been?”

“oh it’s been good.” you reply, turning your head to him and smiling to see his eyes locked on your lips, you quickly turning away.

“don’t get all shy on me y/n.” he giggles, pulling you closer to him.

“sorry, you just look really good right now.” you reply.

“and you look even better.” he mumbles before attaching your lips.

the night continued in full physical contact. he learned every curve and crevice of her body carefully, paying attention to every detail. making note of what she liked and disliked. teaching her the right ways to everything. his hands held her carefully as he worshipped her under his breath, quiet whimpers and curses leaving her lips every few moments, before it all came crashing down after a long few minutes.

“you know, you didn’t have to say those things.” he giggles to you.

“well those are things i learned while i’m watching porn on my phone at night, i- i didn’t know what to do. was it bad? i’m sorry.”

“no no, my love, you were amazing. you were perfect.” he says cupping your jaw and dipping down to kiss you one more time. moments later, they’re interrupted by loud bangs on the window.

“you’re so fucking busted. it’s almost two in the morning y/n. i had to come track you down.” you hear your sisters stern voice outside the car window.

“fuck oh my god, what the hell.” you scramble, making sure your dress was on straight.

“it’s not what it looks like.” you express leaping out of the car.

“yes the fuck it is.”

“please don’t tell mom. please i’m begging you.”

“no, i’m telling her you were with him after she explicitly told you not to.”

“hey that’s no-“ he starts and is quickly cut off.

“and you kissed him, and god knows what else. god just get in the car.” she sighs, pointing to her car up the hill.

“matt im sorry, i really am.” you sigh and he nods.

“it’s okay, i didn’t know they felt this way about me.”

“you don’t exactly have good rep, rempe.” you sister spits, shoving you along. immediately you text him apologizing profusely.

your sister knew he just took your virginity. it was no mystery, the windows were fogged and dripping, your hair came undone, his buttons were crooked. she swore not to tell all the details, but in no way were you ever gonna be able to go near him again. except for in the hallways at school.

“you know he’s trouble y/n. you let him get in your pants?”

“yeah i did, and he’s not as much trouble as you think he is. he’s very nice to me.”

“it doesn’t matter. you’re not seeing him again, you hear me?” she says sternly and you sigh, resting your head against the window.

“yeah.” you reply, a tear falling down your cheek as he texted back, repeating that everything was fine.

“what were you thinking young lady.” your mom startles you awake.

“what?”

“you were kissing matthew in his car at the bonfire? really?” she says standing at the foot of your bed with her arms crossed.

“i’m sorry.” you sigh, tears threatening to spill again.

“what did i tell you about being around him?”

“i know mom i’m sorry, i really like him okay? he’s not how you think he is.” you reply wiping the tears that started to fall.

“yeah well, i really just don’t believe you. he’s not a good influence y/n. it’s just a warning this time, you will not see him again.” she finishes and you nod.

“you know i love you.” she says walking toward your door.

“i know, even if that’s a tough thing to believe.” you reply and she chuckles exiting you room.

and that you didn’t. you didn’t hang out outside of the school halls. all you did was text. every. single. day.

2022

matt knocked on the door and anxiously rocked back and forth on his heels. he knew that her sister and her mom weren’t his biggest fans. hell, you could say they hate his guts, but he knew he had to make it right.

“we don- matt? what do you want?” her mom sighs opening the door.

“i’m taking your daughter to prom.” he says firmly, a light smile on his face.

“she has a boyfriend?” her sister interjects walking up to the door.

he sighs as he looks down at the flowers.

“listen, i know you guys aren’t my biggest fans,” he starts.

“yeah, you could say that.” her sister mumbles.

“but i know this isn’t my news to air but, he broke up with her this morning. we’ve been friends for years, texting for years, whatever. she was so excited for this dance and i- i really fucking, sorry, i really care about her. i really want her to have a good night, i’d do anything to make sure she’s happy and i’d do anything to make things right with you guys.” he states heartfully.

“well.” her mom sighs, her heart seemingly growing larger for the boy that stood in front of her with a large, fresh bouquet of flowers and a nice ironed tux.

“and she doesn’t know, i wanted to surprise her, if that’s okay?”

“yeah it is. thank you matthew. we had no idea, we only saw her this morning.”

“yeah that’s about when it happened.” he replies scratching the back of his head as her mom shuts the door behind her.

“her rooms up there on the right.” she smiles lightly.

“thank you mrs. y/l/n. i really do appreciate it.” he replies making his way up the stairs, knocking lightly on the door.

“are you ready?” he says through the door.

“what?” you call back.

“can i come in?” he asks, you not recognizing the voice. you sat at your vanity with curlers in your hair and your makeup half done. you couldn’t stop crying.

“yes?”

“hey.” you see matt’s face peek through the door before stepping in, fully dressed in a tux, with a large, lush bouquet and a sweet smile.

“matt?” you say, putting down your brush, immediately standing up from your chair and walking over to him.

“i got these for you, i tried my best to match your dress.” he says looking over at the dress that hung from your closet door.

“matt.” you frown sweetly. for the first time since your freshman year, you hugged onto him, tightly. you feel him freeze for a moment before tossing the flowers onto your bed and wrapping his arms around you, picking you briefly up off the ground.

“thank you for this.” you say sweetly as you pull away, his hands still placed on your waist.

“you know i’ll always come around. anything for you.”

“really?”

“yeah, really.” he smiles, pressing a short peck to the top of your head.

“hey, we got reservations in an hour, chop chop pretty girl.” he giggles into your hair.

“i’ll be done, just give me like 30 minutes.” you reply, picking up the flowers and inspecting them.

“of course, no rush. it’s close by. i’ll be downstairs okay?”

“okay.” you smile lightly as he exits your room, your heart pounding in your chest as you got ready quickly. you zipped up your dress and grabbed the flowers, looking in the mirror at the perfect match he’d picked. you sighed in relief knowing the boy you’d been longing since you were a little girl surprised you and is waiting downstairs for you.

you breathe out as you open the door and turn the corner, walking down the stairs where matt and your mom were waiting, his eyes following you every step down.

“you look beautiful honey.” your mom sighs, looking at the gorgeous dress you’d picked out a few months ago.

“absolutely stunning.” matt says, eyes still locked on you.

“thank you guys.” you blush.

“let me get a picture of you two, uh, y/n stand on the second step, i want the full dress in without having to cut this giant’s head off.” she laughs stepping back with her camera and snapping a few photos.

“thank you for doing this for her matthew, i really appreciate it.”

“of course, anytime truly. your daughter is incredible.” he smiles at your mom, her eyes growing into hearts in an instant.

“you two have fun and be safe please.” she says, opening the front door for the two of you.

sis: use a condom, left some in your wallet ;)

you read the text aloud to matt when you got in the car, laughing at your sisters sudden approval.

“she gave you some? hell i already have some.” he laughs, backing out of your driveway.

“you know to this day, you’re the first of only three bodies that i have.”

“was i the best?”

“well i guess yeah?”

“what do you mean you guess?”

“i mean you were really the only one that paid any attention to my needs.”

“well of course, that’s extremely important to me.”

“then not i guess, you definitely were the best.”

“not were, are.” he winks, intertwining his fingers with yours in your lap.

the night was incredible. after the dance, your mom let matt come and stay over at your house, and you couldn’t believe it. he’d truly won your family over. you spent the whole night laid up in bed, kissing and touching and loving on each other for the first time since you were fifteen. everything felt the same, yet different. a mature kind of passion injected into the kisses you shared and the touches he laid on you. you would never trade his intimacy for the world. when you were with him, it’s like the world stopped spinning, and you were the last two people alive. he made your heart jump in the blink of an eye. you wanted him all along, even against your mothers wishes, and that’s something you’d never change.

“can i ask you something?” matt says as you laid contently on his bare chest.

“yes.” you reply leaning up to lock eyes with him.

“listen i know this is really really fast after this morning, and you can say no and i will understand either way but um, would you be my girlfriend?” he asks nervously and you giggle, locking your lips on his.

“yes, a million times.” you smile, speaking on his lips, reconnecting them after your brief words.

“you have no clue how long i’ve been trying to get to this point. it was hard with your mom and sister hating my guts. and you just got broken up with this morning.” he giggles.

“yeah well, i was gonna start hanging out with you again behind their backs if they didn’t start liking you. and, i’ve been wanting to be with you for years matt, nothing is too quick when it comes to you. nothing.”

2024

“matt.” you call out from the couch, adjusting your position trying to get comfy.

“yes my love.” he says running and sliding across the wood floor of his apartment.

“can you PLEASE get the pizza off the counter and bring it over here.” you beg.

“of course, you wanna watch a movie or something? maybe not do a whole lot of watching.” he says with a smug look on his face as he rounds the end of the couch, placing the box on the coffee table.

“how about we finish this box first and then we can talk….. or not talk.” you reply teasingly.

“i love you so much.” he smirks.

“i love you, matt.” you reply with a scrunched nose, pressing a short kiss to his lips as he got settled on the couch next to you.

over the course of the last 2 years, you’d grown inseparable, falling in love in a matter of weeks. he was there for everything. graduation and all. you hadn’t left his side since the night of your senior prom, and you fully planned on starting a life with him. which unbeknownst to him, this life you’d talked about had already begun.

“hey so, i actually had some news.” you start, finishing your slice.

“go on?” he mutters, shutting the box.

“well, fuck i wanted to make this like a big deal but i’m telling you before we fuck.” you sigh, realizing you should wait.

“no no, what is it, it’s okay baby.” he perks up, taking your hand in his.

“matt im pregnant.” you spit out, gritting your teeth waiting for a response.

“are you for real?” he says, his eyes widening, a quick nod following as a response. a huge smile grows on his cheeks as he practically jumps on you, squeezing you so tight you can hardly breathe.

“you’re carrying our baby. like our baby. wow. i can’t believe it. oh my god, i’m so lucky, i’m so excited wow. i love you so much y/n, you’re gonna be the best mom. i’ll make sure you have everything you need and so much more.” he says, his hands placed on your cheeks.

“thank you handsome, i’m glad you reacted well to that, i was nervous. thank you, i love you.” you reply hugging him back.

you were anxious to start this life with him, but you knew from the start all those years ago that you were taken care of.

ever since the day he approached you on the playground in third grade you knew he was never gonna leave you. never in a million years.

#matt rempe #matt rempe imagine #matt rempe x reader #matt rempe fluff #matt rempe x you #nhl #nhl imagine #ny rangers #turcs’ talk

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dooblebugss · 2 months

Text

as requested, I wrote up some of my more...not-nice headcanons. Content Warning for suicide idealation, injury, and food issues

Hornet:

I've mentioned before that she has some issues with food. Thanks to surviving in the apocalypse she has some issues with just...not eating. And when she does, she will cut her portion to give to others. She's the Protector, and as protector, her needs come last. (During the height of the infection she went days without eating and is fully ready to do it again if she feels she needs to.)

Speaking of her title as Protector, it's self appointed but comes with a ton of self-imposed expectations. She's a bundle of anxiety and fear and worry that something will happen to her siblings, her sort-of friends, and Dirtmouth. Honestly, you should go read "Etching of Storms Weathered" on ao3, it's perfect and beautiful

She hates how much she resembles the Pale King and not Herrah. She doesn't think highly of her appearance. She thinks herself kinda ugly tbh. Hornet tries not to let it bother her, but she's just as susceptible to self esteem issues

Hornet honestly thought that Tiso and Cloth were going to die. She treated them kinda poorly because of it, not wanting to bother getting attached to "fools with a death wish who regret their decision". Something she regrets, but isn't sure how to apologize.

Quirrel:

He came very, very close to just walking into the Blue Lake. He doesn't like talking about it.

As much as he loves the Archive, sometimes he has a hard time dealing with just...all of his coworkers and Teacher being dead. Sometimes he'll find bits and pieces written by Monomon, and it's always a little rough.

His amnesia is not fun to deal with. A good chunk of his life is just...not there. He's surprised when his age catches up to him, because he doesn't feel it until it happens

Hornet was too young to remember, but Quirrel does remember what the Kingdom looked like in its heyday, and it depresses him. He knows it was flawed and broken, but the memories always look better in his mind.

Tiso:

Phantom pains :))))) on bad days he can't even get out of bed. The brooding mawlek crushed all of him, but especially his left side. Some days it still feels like he can't breath right

He genuinely does not understand why Ghost saved him, and it kind of eats at him. Tiso was kind of a total dick, and he doesn't understand what Ghost saw in him.

Part of him is a little afraid to make new friends, after the death of his first ever friend (the one who he turned into a shield). He tries to push bugs away by being an asshole.

MAJOR inferiority complex. He wants to make a name for himself and stand above the crowd so so bad. He wants to be more than just 'a worker ant', and its why he went to the colosseum.

Cloth:

Phantom pains 2!!!!!!! Being literally skewered and all. On bad days she might literally cough up blood

She was 100% ready to die to Traitor Lord. However very close to the end she realized that would leave Ghost all alone, and she didn't want that. (Of course by the time she came to this conclusion, she got stabbed)

She misses Nola terribly. So much so she was willing to die to see her. Sometimes, when things are rough mentally, Cloth honestly considers it again...if only for a moment.

Hollow:

PHANTOM PAIN 3!!!!! Hollow was so monumentally fucked by their time in the Temple and with the Radiance. Vessels are sturdy, but it took Hollow nearly a month to recover even slightly. Hollow had a terrible crack in their mask (leaving them blind in their right eye), they were missing an arm, and a good portion of their abdomen had been caved in.

Hollow struggles with...a lot. Mentally. The lie they had to swallow for years about being a Pure Vessel, wanting to make their Father proud, wanting to save everyone and failing...it's a lot. And Hollow hates themself for it.

Hollow remembers Ghost as the little vessel they abandoned at the top of the Abyss...and they feel immense Guilt for it. Ghost seemingly has no hard feelings, but that only makes the guilt feel worse.

When especially upset - or when something might 'trigger' the behavior - they will instinctively revert back to how they used to act as the Pure Vessel: emotionless and needing commands to do anything. They might also fall back on old 'programming' the King gave them

#hk #headcanons #this is a small selection. I have more (especially for Hornet)

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waitmyturtles · 3 months

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Have you read any of the Thai academic papers regarding MAME's work? sometimes I feel like fandom at large has a very strong western bias towards her that borders on xenophobia in review of anything attached to her unless it's more low stakes gmmtv style stuff like wedding plan was which suits western sensibilities more.

Hi, Non! This is interesting framing you've put forth here. I want to note that I'm close with some folks, particularly @bengiyo and @lurkingshan, whose critical tastes I trust, and I can assure myself that they would not call Wedding Plan low stakes. During my Old GMMTV Challenge project, I promised myself that I would not watch another MAME show after Love By Chance and TharnType, and I've taken Ben's and Shan's urging to chuck that aside to add Wedding Plan to my OGMMTVC syllabus, which I'll get to after my summer travels. Let me take a second to sort this all out in a more sensible and chronological answer to touch upon what I know about MAME now that I'm much more read into Thai BLs and the history of the genre.

Regarding academia and MAME, I have not read Thai source material on her start and her legacy in Thai Y novel writing and Thai BL/Series Y television productions. What I am in the midst of reading at the moment is Dr. Thomas Baudinette's Boys Love Media in Thailand (Baudinette hailing from Australia), and he does get in depth with MAME's beginnings, which for me was the first primary source material that I have encountered about her background. To summarize quickly, MAME (along with individuals like INDRYTIMES/Kwang Latika, who wrote the original novel for Love Sick, and others) was part of the first crop of young middle-to-upper-class female college students who became enamored with Japanese BL/yaoi manga, as well as (in many cases) K-pop idols, and began writing fan fiction about and/or in the styles of these interests, which led to the development of the unique Thai Y novel genre.

It does seem to me, at least on Tumblr, that a good chunk of Western fandom here has written off MAME. I'm Asian-American, and I come to my hesitation about MAME from a particularly Asian perspective, so I really can't speak for the non-Asian fans about what they're rejecting. Let me at least explain what I'm rejecting, and how I've engaged in dialogue about it with critical friends here.

LBC did not have as much of what I will attempt to describe as I saw in TharnType, something that I might now call collectivist homophobia or collectivist bias. But LBC had a smattering of it, something that I smelled early on in that series. In both series, MAME seemed to approach her characters, to me, with a distanced hand of judgement that, to me, recalled the kinds of biases that my Asian parents tried to implant in me in my childhood, that I rejected throughout my young years. Queer material is so very often not good to its queer characters, and it seemed to me through LBC and TT that MAME intended to gild that lily to channel a populist homophobia that she seemed to know would resonate with a broader fanbase -- which it did, in part, because TharnType in particular was the first Thai BL with heat in every episode.

(Two things to note about my review of TharnType that I penned last year. First item to note is that Boys Love Media in Thailand had not been published yet, and I had not read primary source material about MAME. I was enraged at the time about fan theories that MAME had been a victim of sexual assault, and had therefore written her queer characters with the biased vitriol that I perceived coming from her because of that theorized past. I still think these theories are equivocating and problematic. Second item is that I heavily recommend reading the reblogs of my TT review, tags and posts and all, to see literally the spectrum of commentary of the MAME fandom/anti-fandom across Tumblr. Writing that post and reading those reblogs was a hell of a great experience.)

Just to summarize this, then -- I choose to not engage with MAME because I see under- and overhanded bias in the work that I've watched, with my Asian eyes; and I just might assume that many Westerners see the same thing. But I don't really know, because I haven't talked to that many Western fans about the depth of this.

So what does this mean for this moment in time? I understand MAME's Love Sea is airing, which I'm not watching, and I missed the boat on Love In the Air -- so I think I'm missing some critical and/or catty chatter about those two shows from the fandom because I don't have context.

But I do know there are folks out there that either write MAME off wholly, likely for similar reasons that I've listed above, and/or hate-watch her shows and post about it. To each their own.

I would not have considered Wedding Plan if Ben and Shan weren't screaming about it. I'm happy to have fewer shows on my plate, I got no time. However.

Nothing in this world exists in a static vacuum. If MAME is experimenting with tone, approach, style, and even taste regarding her shows, then more power to her. @bengiyo's post linked above about Wedding Plan is important for me to see, because I see that he's noting that parts of the fandom may have actually demonstrated real homophobic dialogue about MAME's fictional characters, which, to me, I'm like, what? Really? You got time for that? But also:

If MAME, back in 2019 with TharnType, picked up that her Thai and global fanbases were more inclined to check in with collectivist homophobia, as I'm calling it.... and now, in 2023-2024, has noted that her fanbases might be far more inclined to support real queer equality and overtones in shows, and is including those themes in her work -- can we not welcome that change in? That's why I'll give Wedding Plan a shot.

Let's be sassy and ironic for a second. Could she be making this change for da money and the fame? Sure. But -- capitalism unfortunately rules this world. Car commercials in the States have interracial queer couples parenting children nowadays. If equality talks to money, then content makers will take note. I think I'd be a hypocrite to say that MAME shouldn't make her dollar, all while she's experimenting with more equitable stances.

Last note. There's been quite the dialogue simmering these past few weeks about GMMTV's We Are, and whether or not GMMTV is stepping away from a past where many (not all, but many) of its shows explored queerness in depth. He's Coming To Me, Bad Buddy, Dark Blue Kiss (yes... the first three shows I listed were Aof Noppharnach shows, fuck), Theory of Love, 3 Will Be Free. The major GMMTV BL/GL shows that have aired recently that have made huge waves on social media -- Only Friends, 23.5, Last Twilight, and now My Love Mix-Up -- were/are helmed by branded (capitalism, hello!) pairs, and three out of four of them were flops, with MLMU already treading that territory in EPISODE TWO, for heaven's sake. (Y'all, read the reblogs on this post. Wow.) I finished a rewatch of The Eclipse weeks ago, and I'm dragging my feet on my review, because of what I think that show represents for what branded pairs end up doing to otherwise original content.

I want to posit a theory, that I'll work more on when my OGMMTVC is over, that we have living, real-time proof that the branded pair system is failing good content -- because these shows have to produce engagement snippets of these pairs, instead of more broadly penetrating artistic content. GMMTV's one-off shows with non-branded pairs, like Be My Favorite and Wandee Goodday, are FAR MORE INTERESTING content-wise, varied and inquisitive in their artistic takes on queerness. Even Cherry Magic, featuring the long-awaited return of TayNew, felt fresh, because we literally hadn't seen TayNew in FIVE YEARS. Tay actually KISSED ANOTHER DUDE, shocker!, in 3 Will Be Free. I want to go back to those days, where the pairs could act well outside of their range and their business partners, instead of being limited to the same tone and style that their pairings and their fandoms demand.

I say ALL OF THIS, because isn't it interesting that GMMTV seems to be reverting on a scale of inquisitiveness about queerness -- and MAME seems to be going in the opposite direction?

I would not have expected it. But I have found, lately, some of GMMTV's "takes" on "queerness," as in Only Friends, to be outright offensive. This corporation has become far more gunshy to let their branded pairs just be fictionally gay. If MAME wants to take on a healthier stance of equity, and to play around with more realistic depictions of what it means to be queer in Thailand, then go for it, girl. I will admittedly be watching Wedding Plan with my Asian side-eye and my smell tests for bias, but I look forward to being proven wrong about my suspicions. I want to be a responsible fan here, open to MAME's changes.

This ended up being a lot, but thank you for provoking these thoughts, Non.

#thanks for the ask!#mame #wedding plan #wedding plan the series #tharntype #love by chance #let's be real here as well for a second #people are likely shitting on MAME on tumblr for clout #which #...#those folks should touch grass and move on!

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kxizoku-ou · 5 months

Text

CP9 Cat Headcanons

This is... a very silly post. XD After seeing a similar concept on Pixiv (images 10–12 in this log) and critiquing the breed choices it used, I wound up writing my own take on it.

These are written with actual cats in mind (not my usual Hybrid Au), and the breed choices are just for fun— as in, largely chosen based on looks/vibes, not anything too serious. I was definitely channeling that early 2000s "characters are cats for some reason now" mini-genre, so these are pure fluff/comedy, for once... >3>

. . .

Lucci

(Bengal)

Serial toy murderer. Violently destroys any and every toy you give him within a matter of hours, days at MOST.

Some of the things he’s done to his toys probably qualify as war crimes tbh. Likes to drown the catnip mice in his water dish. Also enjoys tearing things into ragged chunks/”gutting” the stuffing.

Sometimes you wake up to him on your chest with a present.

(A chunk of mutilated cat toy. He drops it onto your face.)

The most athletic cat you’ll ever know. There is no surface in your house he can’t reach SOMEHOW. Also can and will learn how to open doors, drawers, etc, and will use this unfortunate skill to get into everything if he’s bored.

Affectionate, but only on his terms. You don’t decide when you’re allowed to pet him; when the mood strikes, he’ll interrupt whatever you’re doing and forcefully put his body in your lap.

You’re not allowed to move until he decides you’re done. :)

Has a surprisingly cute kneading habit. He’ll go Baby Mode and make biscuits for hours. Sucks on certain blankets too.

Kaku

(Devon Rex)

ZOOMIES TO THE MAX.

Seemingly never sits still. Will run from one end of your house to the other at all hours of the day. At night, you’re regularly woken up by the distinct rapid thumping of galloping kitty paws.

Likes high places and unexpected perching spots. This includes your shoulder— and he can make the jump on his own!

Playful, but not prone to destroying his toys. Prefers batting hard objects down a flight of stairs to tearing the plush ones open.

Too brave (and curious) for his own good. Lacks any sense of danger when it comes to investigating something that’s caught his interest.

This includes slipping through the front door.

Not super cuddly, but likes being near you/keeping an eye on what you’re doing.

Has a squeaky “old man” meow. WEH!

Jabra

(Egyptian Mau)

Wild, playful, curious, and so very destructive. If he’s not kept entertained, your property will suffer for it.

Requires FREQUENT play and attention, but fortunately, he’s not too hard to please. Throwing a squishy ball for “fetch” can keep him occupied for hours.

The asshole cat who will make direct eye contact with you before (very deliberately) knocking something off a shelf, then sit there smugly while you try to scold him.

Very talkative! When he wants your attention, he YELLS, and seeing wildlife outside always brings out that excited, bloodthirsty chitter.

Taking him to the vet is an ordeal, for everyone involved...

Doesn’t mind being pet and handled. Pesters you for affection regularly, but gets bitey when he’s had enough. :/

Highly territorial. Will not tolerate other cats/animals near him.

Kalifa

(Turkish Angora)

Truly the embodiment of the “disdainful gorgeous fancy cat” trope.

Her fur is incredible, due largely in part to near-constant grooming. Do NOT interrupt her washing.

She’ll wash your fingers too if she’s feeling affectionate. Mlem mlem mlemmmm...

Likes to be involved in what you’re doing. The kind of cat to walk across your keyboard or loaf-sit on top of stray paperwork, seemingly oblivious to how badly she’s getting in the way.

At least your “adorable secretary” makes for good moral support!

Not overly playful, but she can be a DEADLY hunter when the mood strikes— fast, agile, and with amazing reflexes no matter what kind of toy you put in front of her.

Weirdly fickle about when you’re allowed to touch her. Will glare, hiss, and swat at fingers if you test those boundaries.

Blueno

(Norwegian Forest Cat)

The most quiet, low-maintenance, independent cat imaginable. You nearly forget he exists, sometimes.

Not much of a meower, but has a deep, calming, rumbly purr.

Content to curl up on a chair or in a corner and let you go about your day! He’ll alternate between napping and silently staring in your general direction; the eye contact is a sign of affection. <3

Won’t seek out attention on his own, but also won’t fight it if you pick him up and carry him around like a plushie.

...he stays limp and docile no matter what you do to him, actually.

Needs regular brushing, or his fur starts to matt. It’s pretty much the only “extra attention” he’ll require, though, and he’s (fortunately) cooperative about it.

Learned how to open doors at some point. You don’t know how he managed that.

Fukurou

(Persian)

R O U N D (and it’s not just fluff)

Despite being shaped like a furry bowling ball, he’s quite playful, and way more agile/fast-moving than you’d expect.

...that energy is much less cute when his full weight lands on your abdomen in the middle of the night, however.

VERY affectionate. Will take any opportunity to lay his chin on your palm, headbutt your shoulder/wrists, put his paws on your chest so he can try to lovingly lick your face, etc— purring all the while!

Chatty cat!! Chirps and squeaks at you non-stop; if you “respond” to him, it turns into a back-and-forth conversation with his mrrep-ing.

Fond of high places, like bookshelves and tall dressers.

It’s unclear how such a heavy cat manages to get up onto them, but he usually ends up yowling for help when he can’t get back down.

Kumadori

(British Longhair)

A huge, massively fluffy mini-lion of a cat, with that “polite little gentleman” face common in his breed.

Sheds. Sheds SO MUCH. All of your clothes are covered in his fur, no matter how hard you try to keep him thoroughly brushed.

You cannot escape the fluff.

YOWLS. The loudest, most determined drama queen when he wants something. Acts like he’s dying if his food bowl is empty for more than half an hour, non-stop howling included.

Extremely cuddly; wants as much attention from you as you’ll give, and will flop his entire body into your lap to get it.

Fond of jingly toys! The louder and more annoying the bell, the better.

If you ever have to give him medicine (be it a pill or liquid), he’s utterly betrayed. Gives you the huge, sad, miserable scared-kitty eyes for the rest of the evening, and won’t let you touch him.

(He’s over it by morning, and back to purring in your arms. Baby.)

Spandam

(Siamese)

The ugliest purebred imaginable, and his personality isn’t better. <3

Health issues. Skin/coat problems, numerous food sensitivities, arthritis, frequent UTIs, and a crooked tail from a past injury.

King of separation anxiety. If he can’t find you, he’s HOWLING, then finding a corner to cower in until his protector is back.

Truly the embodiment of the phrase “scardey cat”. Terrified of everything from the vacuum to rustling plastic bags. Huddles under the couch, trembling pathetically, after every little scare.

...it is kind of cute when he runs to you to “save” him, however.

This clumsy dumbass WILL get himself hurt (in incredibly stupid ways) if you don’t keep an eye on him. Utterly oblivious to real danger.

His distressed yowling is awful, and the attention-demanding yells aren’t much better. The classic So So Whiney Baby Siamese!

NEEDS to be the only cat in the household— he’s violently territorial, but guaranteed to end up the other cat’s punching bag once he’s pissed them off enough.

#One Piece #CP9 #CP0 #Lucci #Rob Lucci #Kaku #Jabra #Kalifa #Blueno #Fukurou #Kumadori #Spandam #Headcanon #Reader

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eddiessluttywaist · 2 years

Text

desiderium

an eddie munson series

AGELESS/BLANK/UNDER 18 BLOGS ARE NOT WELCOME TO INTERACT. PLEASE RESPECT MY RULES AND BOUNDARIES.

summary: eddie’s odd, forgotten childhood friend seeks him out when he needs her more than he realizes.

pairing: bsf!mechanic!bartender!eddie x eccentric!bsf!fem!reader

word count: 6,118 words

content/warnings: eventual smut so MDNI, angst, fluff, swearing, loneliness, family issues, feeling unwanted, mentions of bullying, low self esteem, anxiety, mentions of inappropriate and abusive relationships from reader’s past (nothing detailed), mentions of relationships with an inappropriate age gap (adult men dating reader when she was still a teenager—nothing detailed), brief mentions of imprisonment, crying. i think that’s it!

a/n: sorry to say not all updates will be this quick 🫠 this is only ready now because i had already written a good chunk of it when i wrote part one. creds to whoever owns and posted those ^ photos! they’re not mine, i just made the collage!

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5

“How’d it go?” Martha pulled herself up to get a better look at you, hands on the inner edge of the service desk.

She probably thought with how much time had passed, that things went well. That you spent time with Eddie while he worked, talking when he wasn’t too focused on something else. Maybe you went out to eat and caught up—surely that was why you were returning now when you had left to see him around late morning. It definitely wasn’t because you drove off after he snapped at you and didn’t even give you a chance to defend yourself. A prank? Why would it have been a prank?

It certainly hadn’t been so long because you couldn’t stand the idea of facing her with tears in your eyes and a waver to your voice. Surely, you hadn’t been crying and chastising yourself in your car in some random parking lot until you felt you could be seen in the outside world again. There was no way you were showing up now because when you were on your way to get more greasy food, your car sputtered to a halt because you’re an idiot who had the engine running the entire time you were in that parking lot.

She imagined your afternoon spent with Eddie—not a few strangers who helped you push your car to the nearest gas station (which was thankfully rather close, your only bout of luck thus far). You didn’t need to stop to cry a second time in one day (this time with the car off) just so you could get it out of your system before going into the market on your way back. And by that point it wasn’t even about Eddie. Okay, maybe a little bit, but mostly just because you were so overwhelmed by how everything was going wrong.

She was sure during all that time that you had successfully reunited with your long lost friend. But then as you trudged over, you pointed to your temple.

“Always better up here, right?” you murmured, voice tired and your eyes still somewhat raw.

“Oh, dear…,” she sighed, reaching to pat your hands that were now settled on the ledge where guests were greeted.

“I don’t… I don’t really want to talk about it…,” you admit, and she gives your hands a small squeeze. She can’t help but notice the scent of salt and grease—you definitely had a bag with cheeseburgers and fries waiting for you, probably settled on the floor beside your feet so you weren’t leaving oily stains on her countertop.

Maybe it was ridiculous to be so upset. Stupid emotions. Stupid, stupid emotions that you should be able to control by now. Maybe it was because you let yourself get caught up in your hopes more than you thought and now you were left not just disappointed, but humiliated too.

“Oh, I got you this,” you continue after what you hoped was a forgettable dab to the corner of your eye with the knuckle of your right thumb. You pull your purse to the side to grab a small brown paper bag—one that didn’t have stains collecting on the bottom. “They didn’t have tuna, but I know you said you like turkey better than ham so…”

“You don’t need to keep bringing me food,” she reassured you with a sweet smile, as if it didn’t make her day whenever you did. She wasn’t used to such a kind young girl being around—someone who thought to get her something to eat or listened to her stories with all the respect and attentiveness that makes a person feel like they matter.

“It’s rude to show up with food for myself and not for you,” you argued gently while offering her a weak, closed mouth smile.

“You still don’t have to, though… Why don’t you go lie down, hm?” Martha patted at your hands again before sinking back into her seat. “Rest up a little. I’m here if you need to talk.”

As you laid alone in your bed that night with your hair still partially damp after a shower—memories of your childhood flooded in. You hated feeling so utterly lonely and rejected. It only made you think of growing up which always made you feel worse. It reminded you of being all by yourself at ages where you really should’ve had your parents around, or at least a babysitter.

They hadn’t been ready to have a kid, not really. The couple had been all wrapped up in the romanticism and fantasy of starting a family, and didn’t listen when other parents shared stories to hint at the fact that it’s not that easy. You wondered if that’s when they started to hate you. When you cried all night when they wanted to sleep or go bar hopping with friends. When you’d spit up on them; or suddenly have a shift in your sleeping habits just when they thought they had a grasp on them; or when you constantly grew out of those clothes they swore they just bought. You were a waste of time and money. They looked forward to you growing up more than anything so they could leave you in the house and eventually kick you out of it.

Once you were old enough to make a sandwich or pour a bowl of cereal on your own, they abandoned you as much as possible. Sure, you could handle a peanut butter and jelly or a bowl of Cheerios—that didn’t mean you felt secure in the house all by yourself. At first you would leave all the lights on to give yourself some semblance of security, but then they yelled at you over an electric bill you didn’t understand. Then you’d have “accidents” just so they’d come home—whether that was slicing your finger while trying to cut your sandwich or because you fell or something else you thought of. You found comfort in them being around even if they were pissed at you for being the reason they had to come back early. Then they stopped coming home when you called them crying. Instead, they reassured you that you were old enough to clean your finger and put on a bandaid; or that the fall wasn’t that bad if you could get up and go to the phone in the kitchen. So that ended up being a lost cause.

The habit that stuck the longest was from that little magic 8 ball you got one birthday from an aunt you never saw. It actually listened to you and gave you the reassurance and guidance you needed. When you were scared of the dark, you’d whisper “Do monsters exist?” and it told you no. When you thought you heard someone in the house just because it was settling, you’d ask it if someone broke in and it helped ease your racing heart with the same reply. Besides Eddie, it was your only companion. That stupid hunk of plastic.

Hot tears that you assumed were all spent earlier today stream down from your eyes and into your hair as your train of thought turns to one memory in particular. That night you shook the child’s toy with all your might as you asked it if your parents loved you. This time the familiar phrase scratched into that floating blue triangle wasn’t so comforting.

It was a flash. A blurry replay from the back of your mind, but it still hit you hard. You wipe at your wet cheeks with the feverish haste of someone who was crying in front of a stranger. No one was in the room with you, but you still hated the way it felt. You should’ve never let any of those tears fall today—that’s what made them real. That’s what cemented how miserable you really were.

“Just look up at the sky and blink if you don’t want to.” Eddie had said as he sat next to you on the pavement.

He had been teaching you how to skate and you fell off of his board, leaving your knees and palms all scraped up and bloody. You wanted to cry, but you hated crying. It made you feel like a dumb kid. Mom and dad hate dumb, crybaby kids. You should be able to control your emotions better than this by now.

“If they don’t slip out then they’re not real. They never happened, I promise.” The boy lisped around the gap in his teeth. He had lost his last baby tooth earlier that week. He was all grown up, you guessed.

“But what about when I can’t keep them in?” You whimpered, unsure if you’d be able to blink them back the way he suggested. The boy toyed with a piece of gravel between his fingers and shrugged lazily.

“I dunno. Just wipe ‘em away, I guess. I don’t have any tissues, but you can use my sleeve if you wanna.”

He pulled his long sleeve down until it was over his hand and offered his covered fist to you.

You huffed out a broken laugh at the memory and pulled your own sleeve down to continue wiping at your face. God, you missed him. He was your first best friend, and honestly your last. You had never felt that close with anyone else, and sure it was dumb because you were only kids but it still meant a lot to you. He was who you went to when you didn’t want to stay in an empty house, and even though most parents would throw a fit over a girl and a boy having sleepovers—yours couldn’t care less. At least someone else was in charge of you, even if it was Eddie’s dad who they thought was shit for reasons you didn’t understand.

He was a kind of intimidating looking character and sometimes he insisted you two stay at the local park until he came to get you when he had some friends on their way over (which you realized the implications of later), but he was a nice dad. You were around so often that he’d call you “kiddo” and ruffle your hair the way he did with Eddie’s buzzed scalp—which was more grabbing the fuzzy top of his head and nudging him around playfully than really ruffling hair. He knew you didn’t like crust on your sandwiches. He knew you liked strawberry milk more than chocolate milk, which Eddie appreciated cause it meant more chocolate Yoo-hoo for him. His dad was relatively busy and a little intense, but you liked him and you liked staying over.

Even at 24, you missed blanket forts. You missed making up stories under all the blankets and sheets as you held flashlights under your faces. You missed “camping” in the backyard. You missed wrestling. You missed watching tv until the American flag was fluttering and the national anthem played until the screen faded to black. You missed the anticipation of trying to see who was faster at turning off the tv before the screen flipped to those streaks of color and let out that god awful noise. You took turns to see who could get the closest to right when it was about to switch but before that noise could sound. You had the best score before he left.

You smiled lightly now as you settled into the bed, face still warm from all your distress of the day. Despite Eddie being part of why you had been crying in the first place, you still turned to memories of him to calm yourself down. You thought about when you were sure he’d be your first kiss—a decision you had made unfortunately a few weeks before he left. This was the kind of childish memory that made you roll your eyes, but deep down it actually made life simpler and sweeter so you still cozied up to it whenever you remembered. Reminiscing about when those kinds of things were new and exciting—without the burden of knowing all the mess that eventually comes with endearment—soothed you.

At the time, you were steadily approaching adolescence and starting to pay attention to romance novels and tv programs. It made having a boy as your best friend suddenly feel different in your stupid little prepubescent brain. The same shit he always did started to make you go shy and blush, and he’d nudge you and call you a “fuckin’ dork”. He was still in his “girls are gross” phase whereas you were already forming crushes. You developed crushes just about every day by the time you were in fifth grade, but you liked your best friend the most.

It’s funny actually—or maybe just sad—but you still had a habit of constantly forming crushes. The thought of being desired by someone thrilled you, but that love for attention put you in shitty situations sometimes. No one even liked you until you were maturing in a way that felt so much sooner and so much faster than the other girls by grade 6. Maybe that should’ve been the tell that the sudden interest in you was hollow, but it made you feel special. You kinda liked knowing boys fixated on you even if they were mimicking lewd comments they overheard their older brothers say or wrote about you in the boy’s bathroom—no matter how much you hated yourself for secretly basking in all of the attention.

It wasn’t always dumb boys in middle school, though, even if it would’ve been nice for things to be that basic forever. Eventually it was guys who were too old for you when you were in your late teens. The types who’d say shit like “That’s what you gotta love about high school girls. You get older, and they stay the same age,” and made you feel like you were grown and capable—when it benefited them, of course.

The nights you regretted getting wrapped up in the excitement of an older man or someone you had never met before at a bar or someone who had a bad habit of punching holes into walls awfully close to where your head was against the plaster—you thought about Eddie. You wondered if he grew up to be as awful as all the other boys you knew. If he turned into a creep or if he was the same, sweet boy who—sure, would hold you down and pretend he was gonna spit on you—but had also been taught to hold the door open for you or gave you a flower on your birthday or held your hands when he taught you to skate, promising that he wouldn’t let you fall. Well, except for when you insisted you were ready to do it by yourself. Then he said “Okay, but if you fall on your ass then you don’t get to yell at me.” And you didn’t yell, but he gave you his sleeve if you needed to cry.

There were parents who disappointed. Extended family you rarely heard from. Friends that came and went. Boyfriends who broke your heart, but best friends were forever in your mind. Wasn’t that why you made those bracelets and spit into your palms before shaking on the decision that you were always going to be there for each other?

Eddie’s shift dragged along after that strange young woman showed up. He knew his reputation. He knew that he was the butt of most jokes. He knew he was the town freak even when he had finally graduated and was trying to be a responsible adult. There would always be a few who remained unrelenting in their efforts to make him miserable, or at least that’s how it felt. And it wasn’t like you were someone he recognized as guilty for his constant harassment, but it wouldn’t be the first time some local asshole’s cousin or friend came to visit and was put up to the task of making him feel liked just for it to be some cruel punchline. He was tired of the jokes and the pranks and the muttered comments as people watched his every move. He needed to stay one step ahead or he’d be dealing with it forever. Why else would you pull him away from the back just to talk to him? He didn’t even know you. The frustration burned at him through most of his shift, which he took out on all the exertion he had to put into fixing that crappy Ford Ranch Wagon. He prayed that he would finally sleep tonight, the thought of a hot shower and an old bed waiting for him steadily bringing his mood back up.

Eddie sighed happily when it was time to clock out, holding the door open for Linda on her way out so she could lock up for the two of them.

“Night, Lin,” he sighed with a small smile that spoke of apologies for his constant grouchiness, and parted from her to head to his van.

“Oh, wait!” she suddenly called out, making him raise his brows and twist on his heels. He watched her make her way over to him all while holding something out for him.

“This was left for you by that odd girl who came by.”

At the mention of you, he scowled a little—certain it was a continuation of some joke, until he felt the plastic beads strung together on some string.

“Uh… thanks.”

“She looked real upset. All teary-eyed. Did you break up with that poor girl?”

“What?” Eddie’s head snapped up to eye her incredulously. “I—No! I don’t even recognize her. I don’t think we’ve even met before.”

Lin eyed him suspiciously before letting out a small hum. Men, she thought, although Eddie had always been a good kid, in her opinion—no matter what others said.

“Really, I swear.”

“Okay, hon… well go get some rest, alright?”

He hoped the same for her, and walked back to his car once she was safe in her vehicle and driving off. Eddie clambered into his old van and carelessly punched the button that turned on the light above his head. The bracelet in his hand was small and crowded with an odd assortment of different shaped and colored beads except for seven of the nearly identical beads that were lined up in the center. At both ends there were knots in the thick string to keep the beads from slipping off and had tails left on either side so you could tie and untie the bracelet whenever. Not that you two ever did untie them. The only time you took yours off was when you went swimming at the community pool and were scared you were going to lose it—and that didn’t count. You both promised it didn’t count cause you were just avoiding disaster.

He held it up to get a better look and read the lettering on those seven beads.

C-R-I-T-T-E-R

Critter. Eddie’s brows furrowed together and confusion was only welcome for half a second—maybe even less—before a pang of familiarity punched him in the gut.

“You’re doing it wrong!”

“How can I be doing it wrong? Will you screw off?”

“Eddie, you have to make a pretty pattern of colors, not just random mish-mash. See?”

You held up the bracelet you were working on for him with a pattern of his favorite colors: red bead, blue bead, black bead, red bead… and so on. His was just whatever bead he grabbed that he thought looked cool since you had so many to choose from. There were bulky wooden ones; those tiny little rainbow ones your mom let you have when her long necklace full of them broke (she didn’t want to clean them up so she promised you could keep them if you did); sunburst ones; chunky square ones that had letters and numbers on them; tribeads that were half in and half out of that thin plastic Beadery bag in your collection; and those dumb pop beads that he couldn’t even put on the string but of course kept picking up by accident.

“Screw off,” He insisted a second time and you rolled your eyes before continuing with your craft.

For all the shit you gave him, you loved the bracelet. Once it was done and he gave it to you, it was officially the most beautiful piece of jewelry you owned. You had insisted you two trade the bracelets like you heard the other girls in your grade talk about. You had to make them for each other rather than make your own and you had to tie them around the other’s wrist while they closed their eyes and made a wish.

Some of the boys in school gave him shit for it, calling him names for wearing jewelry he got from the girl in the grade below them. He didn’t care though. After all, Eddie wasn’t one to change himself for the sake of fitting in and he loved his bracelet.

He laughed a bit in disbelief now as he looked down at the bracelet he made for you back in 1975. You remembered him? God, he hadn’t thought of you in forever. Not to be an ass, but because it got too painful.

Among all of the stress that night his dad was arrested, he had been so overwhelmed that he completely shutdown. He was quiet and his expression was numb as he answered questions and packed his things. He was apprehensive and apathetic when he was brought to his uncle he rarely saw, but he didn’t cry. And he never told anyone this, but he never cried until a random thought of not seeing his best friend anymore suddenly set him off while he was trying to sleep. That was what made him realize the reality of everything that occurred. He didn’t have his home anymore. He didn’t have his dad. He didn’t have anything other than a new guardian and a trailer with one bedroom that Wayne had to pull all of his stuff out of so Eddie could have it. And he didn’t have you.

He brought you up a few times, but eventually stopped when he realized how stressed Wayne got over the mention of a trip into Ohio. A trip that meant dipping into his funds—that were already starting to run spectacularly low now that he was responsible for an 11 year old—for the gas money and probably a fee at the state line. Likely a motel room too, if your parents didn’t let them stay at the house.

How did he not recognize you? The more he thought over your interaction, the more he recognized your eyes and the shape of your nose and the curve of your lips even if they were fuller now. Little things here and there that even as an adult made it easier to see the bits and pieces of how you used to look. Here he’s been sulking in all his misery and loneliness, and he had completely scared off the chance to have an old best friend back. And Linda said you had tears in your eyes?

Eddie groaned as he let his head sink forward and rest on the center of his steering wheel. He didn’t even care about the horn that permeated the still night around him as self deprecating thoughts swirled before finally letting up on the button. This groan wasn’t a useless cry to the sky over the state of his life like the others so far, but rather a display of anger at himself for being such a dick. And he couldn’t even fix it. He didn’t have your phone number. He didn’t know where you were staying, if you were even staying. Did you move here? Were you just driving through the state and thought to drop by? Maybe have lunch and catch up before leaving again?

Why did he always have to fuck everything up?

You spent a good portion of your weekend sulking until Martha dragged you out on Sunday. You had been eating all the food you brought with you alone in your room and only went outside when you craved your bad habit enough.

“This has to be a violation of a paying customer’s privacy…,” you groaned as you rolled over and shoved your face into your pillow to avoid the light coming in full force from the windows. Martha had unlocked your door and came in to throw the curtains open to pull you out of your post-humiliation funk.

“It’s a beautiful morning. We’re going on a walk to take it all in and I’m taking you to that diner I keep telling you about.”

“I could’ve been naked. What if you came charging in here and I was laying here naked? Neither of us would’ve recovered. And our friendship would be ruined.”

“Oh don’t be so childish,” Martha huffed, hands on her hips. For an older woman she sure could be spritely when she wanted to be—whipping around your room the way she had been and insisting on a journey into the outdoors.

“It’s too cold.”

“Not when we start moving. It’s not even Autumn yet.”

“Technically the first day of Fall has already passed,” you corrected, still face planting your pillow and raising your hand up as you made your point before dropping it back down.

“Well the cold hasn’t reached us yet. I think you’ll survive. Come on, dear, it’ll be good for you. Good for both of us. I’m always cooped up at that desk.”

You sigh, but stay in your bed with all your plans set on sulking until the end of time. Until you were a pile of dust she was vacuuming up so she could get the room ready for someone else. Maybe you were being a tad dramatic, but you still felt that way.

“You want me to wake you up the way Howard did with our daughter? When she wouldn’t get up for high school?”

Now groaning at the thought of that cup of ice cold water trick she told you about, you huff and you finally force yourself up.

Despite your initial refusal to get out of bed, you were glad that Martha made you. It really was a wonderful morning and the smell of fresh air and the sound of the occasional leaf crunching under your feet refreshed you. Even with how deeply you despised being lonely, you had a habit of isolating yourself when you were upset and it could be quite destructive at times when you didn’t have someone to pull you back out of it. She didn’t even force you to discuss Thursday, just kept up casual chit chat like always.

And even if that walk hadn’t been enough to begin lifting your spirits, the food at the diner certainly would’ve done the trick all on its own. It wasn’t the prettiest joint around, but the breakfast was phenomenal. You wondered if she picked up on the fact that food and eating with others was a part of your love language. Being introduced to such an amazing local restaurant that clearly meant a lot to her soothed your aches of rejection and mortification.

Both aspects of the morning Martha forced you to take part in actually helped to improve your mood. What happened still stung but it was less “end of the world” and a little more “bump in the road.” With the fresh air, breakfast food and Martha’s pep talks—you were thinking of your next couple of steps forward rather than all the doom and gloom. You’d attempt to quit all the fast food that only left you more sluggish, and start finding other things to pay attention to. You weren’t giving up on Eddie, but you had to focus on your other needs again. This meant getting out of bed. Eating something other than cheeseburgers and fries, promising Martha you’d get other food Monday.

Well, maybe not Monday. You may have caved again, but you swore the next day. So on that following Tuesday night, you were at the market to pick up some things for you and Martha. There was a small fridge and a cabinet in your room that you could keep things in, and you offered to pick up anything she needed while you were out.

Peanut butter for you, cans of soup for her—oh, actually soup sounded good. With your sudden craving, you grabbed a few more cans. Milk for both of you, as well as cereal. Microwave meals for you, sardines for her—

Oh gross, sardines?

—Could you even stay friends at this revelation? You supposed you could since she let you bother her even with your fast food she couldn’t stand. But this fact wasn’t going anywhere. You were going to give her your best, most dramatic yuck when you gave her her groceries and you would have to insist that she never eats them where you can smell them.

You moved on through the list, and pushed your cart that fought you every step of the way to the bread and baked goods aisle. Why did you always get the cart with the squeaky wheel? The one that stuck every now and then and dragged against the linoleum before finally returning to a squealing roll? Bad luck, you supposed.

Once you were in the aisle, you double checked what brand she requested before letting out a sigh. Of course they were the loaves that were neatly stacked on the top shelf. Notepad paper crushed between your hand and the shelf you were using for support, you stretched up onto your tiptoes as best as you could to grab for one. You could easily grab the pinched end of one and just tug, but you didn’t want to accidentally squish any of them or make any of the others go tumbling. You’re about to step on the bottom shelf when suddenly a hand much larger than yours littered with heavy rings was grabbing it either from you like a dick or for you like a gentleman.

“Still short, huh?” You heard the rough, tired voice say from beside you.

You settled back on your feet and glanced at the man holding out the loaf of bread for you. He was in those dirty coveralls again with the sleeves rolled up, clearly from when he had taken the time to clean his hands and forearms before leaving his shift. His hair was out of its ponytail now so you could see it in all of its chaotic glory. As you accepted his kindness for Martha’s sake, you did your best to tamper your reaction to him being here. Whether it was any excitement over him possibly trying to fix things; or if it was intrigue over how his hair got so long and the fact that he had tattoos now; or if it was irritation leftover from how he treated you last Thursday. Had you still been familiar with one another, and this had been a small spat between friends, you probably would’ve just punched his arm.

“What? Come to yell at me some more?” You mutter. Okay so trying to keep a neutral stance wasn’t going very well.

You hear him exhale a quick sigh at your words and the way you refused to look at him. You had one elbow leaning against your cart now while you put all your focus on toying with the piece of paper in your hands. Folding and unfolding, smoothing out creases, lining up the edges of the paper and fixing the previous fold so everything fits better.

“No,” he replied in a defeated tone, but you still weren’t looking at him. “‘N I’m sorry about that, okay? Just wasn’t expecting it, and it’s not like you’re 9 anymore.”

“So I’m guessing you recognize me now?”

“A little, yeah,” He tried to be playful, a small smile tugging on his features until you looked up at him with that sad expression and he was deflated again. “Joke. Bad joke, I- of course I recognize you, Critter.”

You failed in your attempt to not smile at the nickname you hadn’t heard in far too long, making Eddie straighten out his posture again at the sight of your lips curving up.

“You still don’t have a poker face. That right there?” He points at your smile, while his own pulled at his lips “That’s how I won all of your best candy bars on Halloween.”

“You never really kept them from me,” You countered, head tilting back to fully look up at him now and your smile a little more sure.

“Of course not. Cause I’m a sucker and you can get whatever you want with a pout,” He laughed and you grew bashful as your cheeks flushed, ducking your head back down to try and hide it.

“Here,” Eddie sighed after a beat, digging into his pocket and pulling out a bracelet to drop in your palm.

Figuring he was returning yours to you, you were confused when you didn’t see your usual mix of beads. Your brows stayed knit together until you recognized those red, blue and black beads and the nickname in the center. Your features softened as you held out your hand for him to drop it into.

L-O-O-G-I-E

“You kept it…?” you murmured as you stared at the plastic bracelet like it’s treasure, before looking up at him again while your fingers brushed over the beads.

“Obviously,” he replied bluntly, pointing at it.

“Completely tore my place apart to find it so I could prove it, too. Not that my place is the neatest to start with, but…,” he let out a light laugh, head tilting and lazy smile tugging at one side of his mouth. He still smiled the same.

You eyed him for a moment, then returned your focus to the old jewelry. You felt oddly reserved with him after his initial reaction to your appearance at his work, and all the time you spent apart. You never had to work up the courage to speak to him before, or think about what to say or how to say it.

“10.”

“…Hm?”

“I was 10 years old. You said I wasn’t exactly 9 anymore, but it was actually a few weeks out from my birthday when you had to leave.”

“I guess that’s true, huh?” Eddie sighed, crossing his arms over his chest.

Why were his arms so fit? And veiny? And why do you have to tilt your head back to see his face now? Ugh, you’re starting to feel like that young girl who read her first romance novel and was developing her first crushes.

“Yeah…,” you say simply, fearing you’ll make a fool of yourself if you try to say more.

“I’m sorry that all happened around your birthday.”

He was so sincere when he said it, but it made your eyes grow wide as you looked up at his face again.

“Oh god– no. No, no, no. Don’t apologize. That’s not how I meant that at all. You-- that wasn’t your fault. And it was worse for you than it was for me, for obvious reasons.”

“Yeah, with the convict dad and all. But it’s a real shame…,” he sighs with feigned disappointment. “Y’know… that you couldn’t kiss me on your birthday.”

That evil grin sunk his dimples into his cheeks and he sucked on his teeth while he clasped his hands behind his back. Your eyes might as well have been popping out of your skull at this point, your whole face heating up.

“I— you— how— oh, you dick!” you gasp at the revelation through all of your sputtering and punch his shoulder without even thinking, and certainly not noticing the elderly woman who huffed at your unladylike behavior before scuttling away. “You read my diary!”

“Yeah, well, you really should’ve gotten the kind that came with a lock.”

“So you don’t recognize me, but you remember a journal entry you shouldn’t have read? Great, that’s great, Eddie.”

You were turning around now, starting to push your cart towards the other end of the aisle. Roll. Squeak. Maybe it was time to head back to Ohio? Maybe you didn’t need such an obnoxious little shit back in your life. Drag. Roll. Squeak.

“I said I was sorry for not recognizing you,” he groaned and followed after you. “How much groveling am I gonna have to do?”

Oh, plenty. Plenty of groveling.

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