#sorry for being like this I don't normally talk about my private life this way

[breezypunk]

tw: emotional abuse, abuse, suicidal thoughts in general. I'm frothing I need to vent.

This all started cos my step brother is an emotionally controlling asshole who treats his girlfriend like garbage. His girlfriend whose only 18, he controls her, talks to her like she's trash, and emotionally manipulates her.. It drives me insane, cos she is clearly brainwashed cos she's so young and doesn't understand probably.. he tells her what she can and can't wear. If he dresses up nicely she's not allowed, cos no one can look at her, so she has to wear baggy sweats, just shit like that... I feel terrible cos even though I don't talk to her much, I feel for her. If she doesn't give him attention he threatens to end himself, like he did tonight, and it scared her so much, and now everyone hates her like she did something wrong cos she made him "cry", GET OVER YOURSELF. I'm so over men, my step dad is the same way, now I know where he gets it from. -.- I can't wait to escape this hell hole one day.

Don't get me started on their homophobia, transphobia, mistreatment of women in general, and how they are all pro-genocide.

[dr3amfyr-e]

brat. - j.v. ( w. 4.5k )

꒰ in which the boy you see every summer enrolls in the same university as you. ꒱ — modern!jacaerys velayron x reader

୨ �� i cannot stress enough, football means ⚽️ not 🏈. childhood-friends-to-lovers, but you have to get through my 2000 word psychoanalysis and backstory first. light angst. mention of the death of a parent. lots and lots of talk about the velaryon-targaryen-hightower family dynamic. light make out action. reader's family is implied to be wealthy enough to have a summer home. almost everyone lives au. set in the uk, not westeros. omitted daemon rhaenyra marriage because there’s no way to to make it even semi-normal. realizing now i omitted daemon entirely erm sorry. pushing the laenor agenda bc he’s my favorite character. this is abhorently long. extreme overuse of the em-dash. uhh the perspective is wonky in a few places. will prob get a pt.2. ⎯ ୧

i had to write this twice. i'm offering this to you with shaking hands, like a peasent child begging for coins. i may write a part two because i have more to say, but i don't want to figure it out rn.

On the cold January morning that Jacaerys Velaryon-Targaryen was born, the media went into a frenzy. 

The Targaryens were old money, their fortune rooted a century back in good investments. Historically adept at finding their way into things, the empire had a string to pull in every industry. From art and law to technology and shipping, if business prospects looked good there would be a Targaryen investment.

And then there were the dogs — regal greyhounds, with long, thin bodies and sleek coats. The Targaryens bred them as far back as bloodline records went. The pups were never for sale; sometimes they were used as show dogs, and successful show dogs they were, but more often they were pets. It was a status symbol, to nonchalantly own such a coveted creature. 

The Targaryens were idolized in the public eye. They were all stunning, with sharp features and silver hair, and each member of the family seemed to possess a Midas touch. But, where Valyrian blood ran hot, so did the press. It was no surprise when magazines started to turn a profit from silver heads plastered across their glossy covers. It was the price that came with God-like aristocracy.

From editorials to gossip columns, people devoured the insider life of the untouchables. When Aemma Targaryen died, there was a four-page spread in nearly every magazine; complete with pictures and quotes. Business papers filled with opinion pieces about Rhaenyra’s inheritance claim to her family’s empire; magazines exploded with the announcement of her engagement to Laenor Velaryon, and subsequently Viserys’ marriage to Alicent Hightower, the daughter of his lawyer. 

When Jacaerys was born, reporters lined up outside of the hospital doors. There were cameras and microphones and crew trucks, and Rhaenyra hated it. It wasn’t the way she wished to welcome her child into the world — swarmed by people who didn’t know nor care for him.

Laenor had always been good at navigating the attention, and Rhaenyra was constantly grateful. So, when he pulled his gaze from the babe and steeled himself to deal with the onslaught of reporters outside, tears pricked at her eyes. Appreciation, exhaustion, adoration? She couldn’t be sure. 

Looking down at her son, she thought, he’s perfect. He had a smattering of dark hair, and he was quiet but not concerningly so. Wispy lashes fell upon his cherub cheeks, and when he eventually blinked up at her his eyes were dark. He looked nothing like her — she didn’t care. 

She refused to talk to anyone outside of her family, and had the curtains in her private room drawn. To expose her son, her heart, to the prying eyes of the bored masses with nary a care for his well-being was a nightmare. She wouldn’t have him exploited. 

At the time of Jacaerys’ birth, she and Laenor had been married for a little over a year. Laenor’s father, Corlys, managed the bulk of the import and export for Viserys’ company. Corlys was a good man, he hadn’t dreamed of marrying his son off. But Laenor and Rhaenyra were both in the same impossible situation: the wiles of youth mixed with the ever critical public. 

They had both fallen into scandalous relationships, both preyed on by paparazzi. If they married one another, it would save face for both of their families. Plus — both being the eldest and heir, this would clear the expectation of a dignified marriage. They agreed to leave each other to whatever youthful fun they wanted to have, as long as everything was discreet. 

Both the Velaryons and the Targaryens kept a summer home in Dragonstone, a private community in coastal Wales. It was the perfect place for Rhaenyra and Laenor to begin their life — far from her father, close to his parents, and out of the line of sight for any nosy journalist. 

The public eye had looked to other things by the time Lucerys was born, two years later. Again, Laenor dealt with the small gathering of reporters with the utmost grace, and Rhaenyra submitted a written statement. 

Alicent divorced Viserys that same year. 

As she watched her boys grow up, full of energy and life, Rhaenyra thought, there was no one better to parent with than her best friend — a title Laenor had rightfully earned. They hadn’t had much choice in knowing each other, and they certainly would never have chosen to be married, but he made a bearable roommate. They had things in common; they liked the same music, and the same men. They drank the same wine and frequented the same restaurants. And, they both loved their boys. 

As Jace and Luke grew up, they found the best company in each other — the school in Dragonstone was so small, though, that there were very few other options. They both played on the school’s small football team, and Jace took piano lessons while Luke learned to fence. Where Jace was driven by emotion, Luke was level-headed; where Luke was cautiously quiet, Jace spoke his mind. It was an ideal childhood, the Welsh coast was an idyllic backdrop to grow up upon, with the sea in their backyard. 

They were ten and eight when Joffrey was born, both excited for their new brother. Their mother brought him home, bundled in a soft red blanket. The boys sat on the couch beside Rhaenys and stared at him for upwards of an hour. 

Hardly a week had passed when Harwin Strong died. He was a family friend, a frequent presence in their home and life — Jace and Luke had been upset by this, of course. 

In time they came to understand the situation fully. Jacaerys first, fitting the pieces together with the evidence he found in the mirror. Neither Rhaenyra nor Laenor had dark hair, like he and his brothers. 

His matriline was uncontestable though, as he grew into himself. He possessed the same nose, jaw, brow, and high cheekbones that Rhaenyra wore. The comparisons between the two became more frequent as he grew older, and he found himself to be quite proud to look like her. 

Her attitude lived in him as well, the temperament she had been so notorious for as a girl festered in her eldest son. She had once been christened ‘The Princess of Dragonstone’ after flipping off a reporter at their summer home. Jacearys earned it for himself when he was fifteen, after loudly berating a reporter. He had been defending Luke, but no one seemed to care when they deigned him ‘The Prince of Dragonstone’. He took it with grace, claiming that he couldn’t help but be his mother’s child.

It instilled a sense of public propriety he strove to uphold. 

Rhaenyra remarried the same year — to Alicent Hightower — and moved her children from Wales to London. It took a while to adjust to the new life — Jace liked his new school, but he detested his step-brothers. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t come around to the idea of living with Aemond and Aegon, who took so much pleasure in making he and his brothers miserable. 

After the first month, Jacaerys fell in brilliantly. He performed well in school, quickly being enrolled in the advanced literature and history courses. He got on well with his peers, and made a number of friends. He joined the football team and spent his Sunday afternoons learning piano concertos. 

Living in London made him a more publicly prominent figure in his family's legacy. He knew how to play his role as heir; he carried himself perfectly — confident and charming and elegant. He didn’t particularly like being in the public eye, but there was a certain sense of satisfaction when he did something to receive positive public attention. 

King’s Landing, much like where he had grown up, was a community reserved for the upper echelon. Situated in Northwest London, and surrounded by wrought iron gates, it was regal and dignified. The house had high, vaulted ceilings, large stained glass windows, and more than enough bedrooms. It rained more, Jacaerys noticed in the first month. When it had rained in Dragonstone he would watch the droplets bounce off the sea, where it lapped at the sandy bay. Here the rain splattered unceremoniously upon the pavement. 

For as wonderful as life in London had turned out, Jacaerys found himself longing for what was left behind in Dragonstone. Laenor lived there still, and while he called often and visited as much as he could, it wasn’t the same. Jace’s childhood bedroom remained, along with all of the memories in the house he grew up in. And his friends. There was an assortment of people he only saw between late May and early September; the children of the other seasonal residents. The number had dwindled in years past, with fewer of them returning for break — favouring more interesting places, like Ibiza or Rome, as they got older. 

Far too few of his childhood friends he kept in contact with, especially after the move to London. You were the exception. 

He was grateful, on days when it stormed in London, to receive a silly text or too-long voice note. It made things feel less dull — you had a way of doing that. 

He took to reading theory around the time he turned seventeen. It’s queer theory, at the suggestion of his cousin Baela, who lent him his first Judith Butler book. He finished it that weekend. 

His aunt Laena and her two daughters lived in London, and Jace found a close comrade in Baela. She played competitive tennis and listened to riot grrrl, she was much cooler than him and he knew it. Her bedroom held two massive bookshelves, and she let him pillage her collection for De Bouvier and Didion and Gay. Hours were spent lying across the floor in Laena’s house, studying, or reading, or talking. He enjoyed Baela’s company more than any of his school friends, favouring anything with her over anything with the boys from his football team. 

His youngest sister, Visenya, turned one around the same time. Baela, staying with Jacaerys while he babysat one night, inducted him into the eldest daughter club. 

“You’re so keen on driving your siblings around, and taking care of them. Plus, aren’t you your mother’s closest confidant?” She asked. 

True, Jace supposed. He was the oldest of Rhaenyra’s children, and the most responsible of his brothers and step-siblings. His mums both worked full time, they were busy but as involved as possible. Jace just did the menial things. He made Joffrey breakfast, picked Luke up after school, and watched Visenya when necessary. He didn’t mind.

Baela argued that he should mind. 

He had been a sensitive child, more so than his brothers, but it made him incredibly emotionally adept as he aged. So many boys his age prided themselves on stoicism, but that was never something Jace felt connected to. He always felt things too deeply to bottle them up — it accounted for the occasional temper that flared up when he was upset, but also how empathetic and kind he was. 

Jacearys was set to graduate with honours in the first week of May. It was three months before when college acceptance letters began to appear in the mail. He had applied to a number of places, and been accepted everywhere. The University of the Vale was where his hopes hinged though. 

Just after Valentine's Day, it showed up. The envelope was wide and stuffed full, and sealed with a wax stamp. His acceptance letter was on the very top of the stack of papers — the thick paper heavy in his hands, as he admired the blue printed border and silver flocking. 

Rhaenrya sorted through the informational packets while Jace reread the letter. Part of him couldn’t believe it was real.

He sends you a picture of the letter, and you respond in kind with one of an identical nature. 

You hadn’t planned to go to the same university, but it certainly was a happy coincidence. 

After graduation, he was beyond excited for the reprieve that Dragonstone granted. The promise of early morning hikes, and evenings spent on the beach — the once empty house, full of life and bustling with bodies. 

You were the first thing Jacaerys thought to look for when he set his bags down in the summer home. 

It was late May, and you were guaranteed to be out of school. I’ll text after I unpack, he thought, pulling clothes and books from his suitcase. 

His room in Dragonstone had once been his childhood bedroom. The walls were a warm tone of white, and the small bed was still covered with his blue and white checkered duvet. Piano scales and pictures of his brothers and friends adorn the walls. There was a soccer trophy on the back edge of his desk, something he had won when he was eleven. It was stuffy from nine months of stagnance, but familiar all the same. 

He pushed the curtains back from the window to let sunlight filter into the dusty room, gazing down at the beach, when he spotted your figure. He was quick to rush downstairs, out the backdoor, and across the stone path that leads from the patio to the beach. He greets you with a call of your name and a tight hug, sunglasses perched atop his head and linen shirt half buttoned. 

It had been a year since he’d last seen you. You had kept in touch during the school year; Jace favoured Snapchat and FaceTime, delighted with the pleasure of seeing the mundane things you were up to. There was a nearly constant text thread, and voice memos passed back and forth. But, it all paled in comparison to physical company. 

He abandoned his housekeeping duties, keen to sit on the beach and talk. And you did so for hours, about everything and nothing. He tells you about his last year of school and listens as you do the same. When the sun dipped past the treeline, he leaned back on his elbows, watching the water crest on the sand. He felt more at ease than he had in a while, enraptured by the ease of your presence. The conversation flowed, there were no awkward lulls and no pressure to talk about something dignified. It was comforting to be so close to someone who didn’t see much of his life in London — you knew the best version of him. 

Your friendship had always felt like that, from a young age. On days that smelled of sunscreen and sea salt in his mind, you would meet in the mornings and depart past dark and then do it again the next day, never tiring of each other. Your parents knew his, so you had always been welcome in his home — invited or not. You had shared a bed during sleepovers, drunk from the same cup, and fallen asleep on the couch during movie nights countless times. Quick glances and imperceptible expressions were a language you communicated in, reading each other without words. In your presence, Jace was the most comfortable.

The summer slipped away as it always did, taking long nights and leaving memories of sand and sunshine. The days were ambled away in the water, on rocky hiking paths, or in the meadow that sat a mile away from all of the homes. 

Jace had started The Hobbit before school ended — most days he found himself sprawled out in the park or on the beach, reading. He had also taken to running with his dog, Vermax, in the mornings. He relied on the serotonin boost to start the day, and with no football to play a jog was a decent alternative. 

When the summer drew to a close, the typical melancholy that befell the return to the real world wasn’t present in Jace’s mind. He presumed it had everything to do with the fact that he would see you every day now

You have one college class together — a nine a.m. medieval literature discussion. 

Clinging to familiarity in the new environment, he glued himself to your side for the first week of classes. He memorized the way to your dorm, meeting you outside every morning to walk together to your first lessons. The meandering conversation was a good start to the day, and he silently relished in your tired eyes and quiet voice, not yet used to the early schedule. 

On Friday he all but begged you to come back to his dorm after the discussion; it was your only class that day so you had given in. You hadn’t seen his living quarters yet, and he wanted to spend time with you, worried for when your schedules would fill up and you would lose room for each other. 

The discussion had been mind-numbing. You reviewed the same syllabus as the lecture, and went over the same rules and policies as every other class. With the thirty-five minutes remaining, the teaching assistant made everyone watch an incredibly monotone video about the history of medieval England. 

Jace linked his arm into yours in the hallway after class, pulling you to the doors. The cool morning air was refreshing, waking you up more as you walked across campus. His dorm building was new and modern, seventeen floors with grey siding and big windows. It was private housing, clearly expensive. 

He had a single room with an adjoining bathroom and a small common space. The walls were typical dorm white, with laminate wood flooring. Joffrey’s school photo is hung on one wall, the frame clearly decorated by the child with glitter and string. Scattered across the other walls were photographs in thin silver frames, a large world map, a clock, and a cross-stitch of a rainbow stag beetle.

Sitting on the couch, you observed the unframed photos that lay across the coffee table, inspecting a leggy grey dog as you plucked it from the pile, “Who is this?”

Jace leaned into your side, gazing at the photo, “My mum’s dog, Syrax,” He reached over you to tap the picture, “Syrax is my dog’s mum.” 

He slipped his hand into yours as you walked with him to his second class of the day.

In the third week of school, Jace asks you to attend a mixer for a pre-law society with him. He doesn't know anyone, and doesn't want to be alone at the party. You meet at his dorm at a quarter-to-six so you can walk to the event together. 

The dress-code is emi-formal, and when he opens the door to you his hair is slicked back with water and he smells like his cologne — musk, sandalwood, and amber. 

“Are your clothes pressed?” You ask, grinning at his freshly ironed slacks and the three buttons undone on his shirt. 

He rolls his eyes, locking the door behind him as he escorts you down the hallway. The walls of the elevator in his dorm are mirrored, and you laugh at him when you catch him taking pictures of himself. He makes you take one with him, and sets it as his lock screen. 

The mixer was in the dean of law’s massive house, buzzing with young people in smart outfits. Jace abandons you about fifteen minutes in, spotting a group of poli sci majors from his social psychology class. 

From his childhood spent between galas and his mother’s business meetings, Jace was good at navigating these situations. He was charming, leveling the professors with charismatic smiles and confident posture. He was good at holding an intelligent conversation, discussing theory and strategy. 

You were on the patio, watching the stars, when he found you an hour later.

His arms brushed yours as he leaned against the railing, “Sorry for leaving you,” His voice was quiet, and he stared at your profile, watching the way the moonlight illuminated your skin. 

You wave his apology off and make him buy you coffee in recompense on the way home. 

You’re stood talking together on the quadrangle a few weeks later, a cup of hot chocolate warming your mitten-less hands, when you realise just how cold it’s gotten. It's just too cold for the thin jacket that you try to sink further into, hiding from the wind that bites at your delicate skin.

Jace watches you shiver, observing your lack of appropriate attire. 

“Are you cold?” He asks, reaching out to run his hands up and down your arms, half to warm you, half to gauge how thick your jacket is. Not very. 

You nod, “I didn’t check the weather this morning.” 

He sighs with exaggerated exasperation and slides his arms around you, careful of the paper cup you held. Of course, he’s worn the right coat, and you feel the downy material of his hood against your cheek as he rubs your back to generate some warmth. You smell the cologne on his collar and the expensive shampoo he uses; he grumbled something about taking better care of yourself. 

Then, one particularly cold Friday morning he has forgotten his coat. Dressed in a hoodie, he mirrors your excuse from the week prior, smiling sheepishly — face flushed from the chilly air, dark curls blowing around his head like a halo. You take pity on him, slipping your scarf off. You loop it around his neck, tucking the ends down into the collar of his sweater, and leave him with a fond peck on the cheek; his skin is cold. 

He's appreciative, though the scarf does little against the cold wind cutting through his sweater. Still, he doesn't give the scarf back. 

With the cold, comes midterms. You’re the first person Jace asks to study. 

Your dorm room is closer to the central part of campus, and thus a shorter walk in the bitter cold. Jace brushes snow out of his hair as you unlock your door, ushering him inside. It's small. Two twin-sized beds, one on each wall, with nary enough room for two bodies between them; a desk is crammed into the small space between your bed and the window. You let him take the desk, spreading your books and notes out across your bed.

Your dorm is old, and the room has very little ventilation. Despite the frigidity outside, the room is stuffy and almost hot with both of your bodies inside. An hour into studying Jace shrugs off his heavy, knit sweater and pushes his glasses up into his hair. 

“What are you working on?” You ask, leaning forward. You’re bored, working on the same power point you started yesterday. You want to talk to him, though he doesn’t seem keen on the idea

He doesn’t look up from typing as he speaks, “Analysing The Art of War.” 

You shut your laptop, bent on distracting him, “The book?” 

He nods but doesn’t give a verbal response. 

“Who's that by?” You ask, fighting to suppress a grin

This time he does look up, glaring at you over his glasses, “Sun Tzu.” 

His tone is short, but it's amusing to annoy him so you grin, suppressing a giggle, “Sounds very interesting.” 

“What do you want?” He asks after a beat, still holding your gaze. 

You shrug, “Nothing. I’m bored,” 

The next time you study is even less productive, school work discarded on his floor in a matter of minutes. 

“We can’t be trusted to work together,” He tells you, watching as you calculate his astrological chart, geometry homework forgotten. 

You attend your first college party together in November. When you arrive at his dorm, he’s dressed much more casually than normal. 

You reach out to tug at the thin silver chain peeking out from his shirt collar, “This is fun,” You tease, giggling, “Aiming to impress tonight?”

He rolls his eyes in mock-offence, turning you around by the shoulders to shove you out of the doorframe. 

The lights in the house are dim, and they strobe slowly through different colours. It’s too dark and too bright all at once. The music is almost unbearably loud and people are packed in like sardines, it’s all incredibly overstimulating. 

When he senses your unease, Jace takes your hand, pulling you tight against your side to lead you through the throng of bodies. He’s looking for someone, but you’re unsure who, and he canvases the whole space before giving up on finding them.

The backyard of the house is quieter, but the ground still vibrates from the bass of the music. People are scattered about, smoking cigarettes and sipping from bottles of cheap beer. 

You both learn what Jell-O shots are, and make out in the bathroom back at his dorm. It’s not the first time you’d kissed each other, trying it a few times in your adolescence just to see what it was like. But this is different, tipsy and sloppy, as you giggle into his mouth. 

It's forgotten in the morning, when you wake up in his bed still dressed in your going-out clothes, head pounding.

But then it happens again, the week before finals.

You had stayed at the library far too late studying, leaving the pair of you to walk back to his dorm in the dark. It's positively frigid, cold December air whipping snow into your face. 

There are still snowflakes in your hair as you shed the thick coat you’re wearing, pulling off your gloves and hat. 

There's a bottle of wine in Jace’s freezer, left by Aegon the weekend before. It's expensive and rich and red, and Aegon would likely skin you if he found out you were drinking it — but, that's part of the fun. There's a baking show on the small television, and you’re curled into Jace’s side to steal some of the warmth from his body.

When the program lulls he brings his hand to your hair, combing through the tangled strands. You pay it little mind, leaning into his touch as you watch a contestant on-screen whip macaron batter. His fingers slide down to your jaw, turning your head so your eyes meet his. He’s studying your face, cheeks flushed from the wine or the cold. 

The attention is odd, and you giggle nervously under his gaze. His hands come to cradle your jaw as he leans towards you, nose brushing yours. The air is charged with an unusual tension, his mouth a breath away from yours. 

When he kisses you, he’s slow and gentle, his whole body angled into yours. Everything feels warm, a welcome contrast to the weather outside, and you chalk it up to the glasses of wine coursing through your bloodstream. 

It's pleasant, different from times past; this certainly doesn’t feel like an innocent, experimental kiss. It's heated, tinged with passion. He uses the placement of his hand to ease your jaw open, tongue sliding slowly into your mouth. 

There's a vibe, something you hadn’t felt before with him. It's communicated through the gentle touch of his hands, and how his breath hitches when you kiss him back with the same sort of force. 

The moment is broken by the announcement of a winner on the television. His hands slide down, resting on your shoulders, pulling your frame into his. 

You don’t talk about it afterwards. 

[tgcg]

argument

its a big one

TG: alright this is probably a bust

TG: more i think about it how the fuck do you even make a marinara

TG: can i even alchemise cheese or do i gotta like alchemise the milk and curdle it myself

TG: how do you even curdle

====================

TG: make a goddamn

TG: curgler

TG: whatever

TG: internet archive gonna pull through

====================

CG: ALRIGHT DAVE

TG: shit

====================

CG: YOU BETTER BACK THE FUCK OFF. I DON'T KNOW WHERE IN BULGEMUNCHING VIRULENT FUCK YOU GET THE IDEA YOU HAVE ANY RIGHT TO TELL ME WHAT I SHOULD THINK ABOUT MY OWN GODDAMN PLANET. SORRY TO HAVE TO DEAL A BLOW TO YOUR IMPOSSIBLY INFLATED FUCKING EGO, BUT HAVE YOU EVER CONSIDERED THAT YOUR SIDE-EYE SLACKJAW HOPELESS DEADPAN BULLSHIT BEHAVIOUR IS ACTUALLY INCREDIBLY FUCKING CONTEMPTIBLE AND DOESN'T PUT YOU ABOVE OTHER PEOPLE? HAVE YOU CONSIDERED THAT?

CG: OR DID YOU JUST ASSUME FROM THE MOMENT YOU FOUND OUT I'M A REVOLTING FUCKING MUTANT LOWBLOOD FREAK THAT I'M SUDDENLY NOT ALLOWED TO LIKE THE IDEA OF MY LIFE MEANING SOMETHING AT SOME POINT?

TG: okay you are wildly misquoting me where the fuck did that come from

TG: also you scared the hell out of me

TG: im just trying to science some pizza here

====================

CG: OKAY THEN, DAVE! EXPLAIN TO ME AS WELL AS YOUR AMBLING ONE-NOTE SMOOTH EXCUSE FOR A 'THOUGHT'SPONGE CAN

CG: IN SOMEWHAT COHERENT TERMS, ALTHOUGH I KNOW THAT'S A TALL ORDER:

CG: HOW YOU SAYING MY ADOLESCENT DREAMS OF BECOMING A THRESHECUTIONER ARE "FUCKED UP AND IRONIC IN A NASTY ASS WAY" DOESN'T QUALIFY AS UNDERHANDEDLY KICKING ME IN THE MANDIBLE PRONGS!

CG: YOUR AUDIENCE AWAITS YOU WITH BATED BREATH! TAKE IT AWAY, M.C. BRAIN HEMORRHAGE.

====================

TG: okay i dont

TG: know how you got a hold of that phrasing because i said that shit in confidence

TG: get out of my business bro

CG: NEWSFLASH, ASSHOLE: THIS METEOR IS A PHYSICAL, LITERAL LOCATION WE'RE BOTH IN. IT'S NOT A FUCKING PRIVATE CHATROOM. THIS MIGHT BLOW YOUR PITIFUL MIND BUT PEOPLE CAN ACTUALLY HEAR OTHER PEOPLE TALK WHEN THEY HAVE TO SHARE A SPACE! BRO!

TG: ugh

====================

CG: AND IT'S VERY INTERESTING YOU ACCUSE ME OF MISQUOTING YOU, AND THEN SUDDENLY TURN AND SPOUT FROM THAT SHITTY DRONING GROANSHAFT OF YOURS THAT I'M INVADING YOUR PRIVACY WHEN I DIRECTLY QUOTE YOUR SMARMY LITTLE SHAMEGLOBES!

CG: WOW! TURNS OUT KARKAT IS ACTUALLY BEING GENUINELY FUCKING UPSET ABOUT SOMETHING — WHO KNEW, RIGHT? WHO WOULD'VE GUESSED THAT I ACTUALLY HAVE GENUINE COMPLAINTS TO LEVEL AGAINST THE PEOPLE WHO GO SPOUTING HOOFBEASTSHIT ABOUT ME BEHIND MY BACK TO THEIR ECTOSIBLINGS?

TG: no dude can you shut up a second

CG: I MOST CERTAINLY FUCKING WILL, THANKS FOR THE OFFER! I'M NEVER TELLING YOU A GODDAMN THING AGAIN, SO I HOPE YOU MANAGE TO GAIN SOME WRINKLES TO THAT VESTIGIAL FLAWLESS ORB FLOATING AROUND IN YOUR CAVERNOUS NUGBONE FROM ALL THIS. I HOPE IT WAS WORTH ALL THE EFFORT ON YOUR END.

TG: listen!!!!

====================

CG: MHM! MY AURICULAR CHAMBERS ARE WIDE OPEN!

TG: jegus

TG: okay

TG: i have no defense for my literal phrasing but how expeditiously did you shadowstep the fuck away after i said that

TG: because that is some shrek tier "princess and ugly dont go together" level misrepresentation of my sweet self

TG: like if this wasnt obviously a heated platonic argument we were having i would probably be digging what the reference even if it was a shitty trope

====================

TG: i just

TG: have been thinking about some things and none of those things have got an iota of a thing to do with you or your blood

TG: thing

TG: man

TG: i dont know why you think id be so pressed about your vein juice its like

TG: a normal ass color for a normal ass guy

TG: and obviously it was a major fucking deal from how you talk about it but it doesnt need to be anymore

====================

TG: the thing is i just dont like have the same attitude as you about fighting and stuff and thats not something i am getting into right now but i am gonna make it expressly clear

TG: that its just kind of fucked up for me to sit my ass down and listen to someone spew gold and medals and confetti colored shit going googoo all over tall and loathsome ass bloodletters he never knew

TG: and have him tell me he wants to be the best guy at combat since samurai fuckin jack

TG: and thats my capital B business believe me the emphasis is there

====================

CG: SO IS THIS ABOUT ME WANTING TO BE PART OF SOMETHING YOU DON'T AGREE WITH? BECAUSE THRESHECUTIONERS DON'T EVEN FUCKING EXIST ANYMORE. I LITERALLY COULD NOT DO THIS IF I TRIED AT THIS POINT, SO YOU CAN UNKNOT YOUR “KNIGHTY WHITIES” ABOUT IT.

TG: being anti-military is not my point but damn if it isnt a thing thats probably true anyways so good job sleuthing that out

CG: WHAT IS YOUR POINT, DAVE.

TG: bluh

TG: i just said i dont wanna talk about it man

====================

CG: OKAY,

====================

CG: OKAY.

CG: I MEAN. IT FEELS KIND OF IMPORTANT TO THE CONTEXT OF THIS WHOLE UNAMBIGUOUSLY PLATONIC ARGUMENT WE'VE BEEN HAVING

CG: WHICH I'M RELIEVED WE AGREE ON BY THE WAY

CG: BUT IF YOU DON'T WANT ME TO KNOW I'M NOT GOING TO WRING IT OUT OF YOU. IT'S FINE.

====================

CG: …IF YOU DECIDE AT SOME POINT THAT YOU WANT TO TELL ME THOUGH, MY RUMBLE VESSELS ARE STILL OPEN.

TG: i swear youre making those up on the spot at this point

CG: I'M KEEPING MY LANGUAGE'S ART ALIVE, DAVE. IT'S BASIC DECENCY TO THE PLANET THAT RAISED ME.

TG: heh

====================

TG: yknow we got these things called anatomical snuffboxes

TG: its got that right amount of vague nose wrinklage to it that i feel like youd be right at home saying that

TG: snug as a grub even

CG: WHAT PART IS THAT???

TG: its that little weird bone bit that sticks out on the back of your palm when you flex your thumb right

====================

TG: look

CG: HUH. LOOKING AT THAT IS KIND OF WIGGING ME OUT.

TG: yeah its kinda gross rose told me about it

TG: but anyways

====================

TG: are we cool

CG: I MEAN… I GUESS SO. YOU WEREN'T ACTUALLY INSULTING ME, RIGHT?

TG: hell no dude never

CG: OKAY. I COMPLETELY RESCIND THE MYRIAD OF WAYS I JUST INSULTED YOU. AND I'M SORRY.

TG: nah i know its just fluff at this point

====================

CG: I STILL DON'T APPRECIATE YOU TELLING ROSE THINGS I SAY TO YOU IN CONFIDENCE. THAT WAS BETWEEN YOU, ME, AND MY NOW NON-EXISTENT HOME PLANET ROTTING AWAY TO A CRATERED GRAY HUSK IN ANOTHER DEAD UNIVERSE.

TG: i swear that was like the only thing its just that she gets it and i cant keep my mouth from going on about the gettable stuff

TG: they call me the babbling brook the way my flows so audible

TG: i wont do it again

CG: NO,

====================

CG: I GET IT HONESTLY.

CG: I'M BASICALLY THE NUMBER ONE PROPRIETOR OF AIRED GRIEVANCES IN ALL OF PARADOX SPACE AND THEN SOME, AND I'D ALSO BECOME ITS BIGGEST HYPOCRITE IF I HELD IT AGAINST YOU.

TG: thanks

TG: but i mean

TG: at the gigantic risk of sounding uh

====================

TG: ………..

CG: ?

====================

TG: well

TG: i kinda just think youre better at being a guy to chill out and watch movies with than a guy to tangle fists with

TG: and i dont think theres anything wrong with being that

TG: i think its cool

====================

CG: …THAT'S AN ALARMINGLY BRAZEN OBSERVATION TO MAKE OF SOMEONE YOU'VE KNOWN FOR ABOUT THE SPAN OF SEVEN SEASONAL EQUINOXES, DAVE.

TG: i dont know what that means but it sure is probably

CG: AM I ALLOWED TO ASK WHAT EVEN GIVES YOU THAT IMPRESSION????

TG: i just got that inkling about you man

====================

TG: and you can do whatever you want with that info

TG: throw it in the load gaper or whatever if you want i dont really care

TG: give it a swirly and slam it in a locker call it a nerd break its glasses whatever

TG: but beyond this whole lord english thing weve got going on i am pretty content to never aggress my fellow man slash alien slash monster again if i can help it

TG: i think thats pretty fair given what thats been like so far

====================

TG: and yknow its cool to have some company when im waxing emotional over the narrative depth of click starring adam sandler which we are watching next by the way

CG: UGH, FIIIIIIIIINE. JUST TO MAKE UP FOR CALLING YOUR THINKPAN SMOOTH AND SUPERFLUOUS.

====================

TG: score

TG: we should argue all the time

CG: SNRK

[coe-olivier]

Day of their application to a legionary.

They were already standing in the building, waiting for their turn to registration. Octavius was really happy and almost shaking from excitement, Ultimus was… visibly stressed out. He grabbed Octavius' shoulder, wanting to talk to him in a more private space.

Ultimus: We need to talk about something. I wanted to say that way before that day but I didn't know how you would react, and now I need to do this because it is my only chance now.

Octavius: Ultimus, calm down, talk slower and tell me what happened.

Ultimus: Please, don't be mad but all of this is wrong. I’m afraid that I can't do that.

Octavius: What do you mean you can't? We were waiting for this day for a really long time. We always wanted to become legionaries! I want to know what really bothers you.

Ultimus: I mean uh, I don't want to leave all that I have here in Rome.

Octavius: Being scared of new things is normal, including leaving things that we love behind us. We can figure out what to do about this, for sure! We will be there together so nothing can stop us from…

Ultimus: Ugh shut up, Octavius! Cut it with your stupid speech of “fighting your fear”. I’m not a child anymore. It's not a place for that. I don't want to leave my mum like my father did years ago because of the army. I can't lose my family, don't you get it?! It's easy for you, because you never get along with yours!

Octavius: ...How dare you say that…

Ultimus: I’m sorry! Sorry, I didn't mean to…

Octavius: You know what? I always thought I am a part of your family too… but you are not afraid of leaving me. After all those years of living with our promise? Our friendship? We had plans of being here together, remember? You know better than everyone, that was the only thing I've ever wanted and you’re ruining it right before it happens! Why?

Ultimus: I’m sorry but I don't want to do this. I didn't tell you that because I was scared of hurting you. You are the most noble, kind and brave person I have ever met in my entire life, but I can't pretend any longer that it is also my dream.

Octavius: I do not want to hear any more words from you. I’ve never thought you could do this to me. You betrayed me! Betrayed our promise!

Ultimus: Octavius, please listen! This won't change our friendship. This doesn't mean I don't want to be close with you anymore. I don't want to lose us.

Octavius: You already did…

Ultimus: Octavius, wait!

Octavius walked away, not looking at Ultimus at all, just went to the queue to register himself. He stood behind other recruits already and made eye contact with his friend who stared at him for a few seconds and left the building quietly. Octavius' eyes filled with tears but he couldn't show in front of the others that he's crying.

[themultifandomgal]

Tommy Shelby- Leave The Blinders

YNs family dynamic was very different to other kids her age. She's now 16 and living with her father and step mother while her biological mother lives in America who visits every now and again.

Her father, Tommy, is very protective of her especially because of what he does.

For as long as YN can remember she has hated him being part of the Peaky Blinders, she's always worried about him and her uncles, and partly she worries about herself. Now that Grace has been killed all YN wants to do is live a normal life with her family.

YN sits down during the family meeting, not really paying attention to what's being said. That is until her dad starts talking about her

"YN are you listening?"

"Huh?"

"Blimey child" Polly shakes her head

"From now on you are not to leave the house unless it's with one of us"

"What!" YN shouts with wide eyes

"I can't loose you as well" Tommy says to his daughter

"Then leave this life behind, like I've been saying"

"I can't YN. You know I cant" Tommy rubs his hands over his face

"I don't understand why!" YN shouts getting up from her seat and storming out of the room. Tommy looks at Finn who just nods his head and leaves to walk YN back home.

Tommy becomes distant especially after Charlie, her younger brother, gets kidnapped. YN becomes tired of living in fear and decides it's time to leave. When her mother next visits, YN asks if she can go with her to America.

Years later and YN returns to England as part of a travelling show. She returns to her home town in Small Heath. Walking through the Garrison she sees her eldest uncle sat at the bar drinking

"Uncle Arthur?" Arthur turns around and smiles at the girl

"YN is that you?"

"Yes. Where's dad? Is he ok?"

"Of course he's alright. What are you doing here?"

"I'm a singer. We're performing In Birmingham and I thought I should come and see dad"

"He's in there" Arthur nods towards the private room. YN gives her uncle a smile and makes her way into the private room. YN sees her dad nursing a whisky

"Hi dad"

"YN" Tommy breathes out turning his head to his daughter "what are you doing here?"

"Uncle Arthur asked the same thing. I'm a singer now"

"My daughter a singer. Who'd have thought"

"I've missed you dad" YN says sitting down next to Tommy

"I've missed you as well"

"Are you... do you...."

"Still part of the Peaky Blinders?" Tommy asks and YN nods her head sheepishly "kind of. I don't get dirty anymore. I have men for that"

"I suppose that's something"

"How long are you here for"

"2 weeks. I'm performing at the hippodrome if you'd like to come and see"

"I'd love to come. Look YN I'm sorry for how I acted. I just wanted to keep you safe"

"I know dad, but I was scared about loosing you. I was scared. When I heard uncle John had died I wanted to come back, but I couldn't bring myself to face you. I paid my respects though"

"John wouldn't have wanted you to waste time coming home" a nice comfortable silence passes between the two. Tommy finally brakes the silence "I'm sorry YN. I should have wrote to you"

"Maybe we can start" YN gives her father a shrug

"I'd like that"

[laura1633]

(sorry lando fans, look away)

i need to say this just in addition to a recent ask, but i always, always knew that lando would not keep up with being friends with max as soon as they‘d battle on track. like, always. i don‘t want to say he‘s a fake friend per se, but lando never seemed to see max as much of a friend as max sees and likes lando as a friend. it‘s been pretty obvious to me. they have their first „fall-out“ on track and lando goes running to the media to bash max when he knows how max is treated by the media, british media especially. max was and is much more mature in this approach regarding everything. lando straight up acts immature most of the time. his persistens comments lately about „he should have won instead“ after races….boy, you won once. uhm. get your head back on the ground. i have nothing against confidence, but with lando it often seems like loud arrogance rather than calm confidence, like max exudes for example.

maybe they‘ll talk and cool down but IMO (!) lando is not the friend to max that max seems to think he is. maybe this opened his eyes though

also absolutely agree with everything you said under the cut of that ask, laura!

Hi anon

I do think you have touched on the thing that disappointed me most about yesterday. I'll respond under the cut again so people can ignore if they want. I think this is the last ask I have about the subject so I will then resume to the normal service of me posting insane (mostly nsfw) fan fiction ideas and random pics of Max and Charles 😂

I have always given Lando a lot of leeway with some of the things he says because I feel like he is quite harsh on himself so when he says "I should have won" I read it along the lines of him admitting he messed up and should have won.

I also have never really commented on Max and Lando's in real life relationship because I don't know anything other than the surface level stuff we see online and it's none of my business. I personally didn't like the way Lando was so openly dismissive of Max's friendship but they are both grown adults who know their relationship better than anyone else so if they are happy with it then fine.

However, I completely agree with what you have said about how Lando spoke to the press yesterday. It is blatantly obvious to everyone in that paddock that Max has had to face a lot of booing at races and a hell of a lot of negativity both online and directly from the media. As a friend I can't see how Lando would want to fuel all of that. It felt to me like he just threw Max to the wolves yesterday and was happy for them to do their worst.

I do understand adrenaline and being angry after a DNF but when you are meant to be "friends" I feel like you should at least try and calm the situation and talk privately first rather than saying inflammatory things. Maybe Lando and Max just aren't that friendly or maybe it was immaturity on Lando's part.

It really hit a nerve with me because I hate the "Max is the bad guy" narrative that gets pushed (and that Lando will be well aware of). As Max gave a more dignified response I feel like the narrative is now being led by Lando's statements about how it was all Max's fault. Honestly it made me a little sad to see Max's reaction to hearing what Lando had said, he deserves better in my opinion.

I guess I am not going to go around bashing Lando going forward as what is done is done and we will just have to see what happens going forward.

I don't think I'll be writing any Lando fanfics going forward though 😂

[natriae]

Chapter 8: I've had enough

<prev | next>

masterlist

"why did ya call me 'ere," The setter questions as he enters the apartment that reminds him of his mistakes. He slips his shoes off in the genken reminding him of the times he skipped the step because he was excited to see you.

He walks into the mute livingroom easily sensing how your presence is gone. Your photos aren't around, your blankets, or your plushies that stayed on the couch. He feels even further away from you than before. His usual cheery demeanor is lost as he turns to face Rin.

The sleepy eyed boy closes the door to his room as he turns to meet Atsumu. He looks lost. Yes Rin normally looked pretty out of it, like he doesn't want to be there, but the bags under his eyes tell a different sorry. The way he takes a deep breath before shoving his hands into his sweats. Atsumu looks to the ground over his conflicting feelings. Rintarou is his friend and he clearly feels bad, but the way he's been handling the situation makes him mad. Rin's mouth opens to speak, but his sister interrupts before he can get a word out.

"Is that Atsumu I hear?" She questions with a smile on her face. She opens the door to your bedroom... your old bedroom and runs out to him. Her arms loop around his neck as she jumps, but instead of Atsumu reciprocating. His arms hang loosely at his sides as he looks to the bland couch.

Rintarou shakes his head at his sister's behavior and drags her off Atsumu. She rolls her eyes at him a goes to sit on the couch.

"we should probably talk in private," Rin states looking into Atsumu's eyes. It's clear he doesn't want Reina to be listening. There's a tension in the air between the two siblings. Rin is clearly unhappy at her, but Reina looks unbothered as she pouts at the two.

"no," she whines, " talk here," her pout becomes bigger as she sees Rin become more pissed.

"Reina no we-"

"oh my god Rin," she cuts him off, " Atsumu Rin's my brother we're basically the same person. He shouldn't be keeping secrets from me, right?" she pleads.

"I don't have time for this," Atsumu makes clear as he sits down at the chair to the side of the couch.

Reina pats the couch, "sumuie sit here," she states as she gives a smile like she wasn't just pouting. Reina's always been a spoiled girl. Rinatarō's parents shouldn't even be called parents. Rin's childhood was spent taking care of Reina while his parents only cared about themselves. It was hard to leave her to go to Hyogo, but things could have been worse. Mr and Mrs. Suna didn't pay much attention to her. Just gave her their card and let he do what she want, and when she became to bratty she was sent off to Rin. Seeing his sister change and not being able to stop it was hard. He didn't want his friends to know about his family life so he let them have their fun with her. Not telling them the real reason she was here. It's no surpise she latched herself to the twins especially Atsumu. He was fun and he gave her all his attention, but that's the past. They aren't naive teenagers anymore. They had serious issues that needed to be dealt with. It wasn't possible for them to sit there and have fun and give her all their attention.

Rin sighs and walks over and sits right where she patted ignoring her presence over all. He has a bad feeling about this.

"Imma start since i gotta feelin' your gonna stay silent," Atsumu starts looking to the side, "why did ya say quiet. I mean what kinda friend does that?" He questions, his face showing disgust and disappointment at Rin's actions.

"I.. I so badly want to say it wasn't for complete selfish reasons, but I can't lie. Atsumu I was scared too, and I feel horrible, believe me. This is all I've ever wanted, to play volleyball, and I don't want to lose that." He sees Atsumu's mouth open to begin speaking, "but I feel horrible and looking back I should have, but I feel like im out of options." He says quietly.

"How can you be out when we've barley even tried?" Atsumu tells him quietly. The older twin manspeads and rests his elbows on his thighs. In a way to get closer to Rin.

There's silence for a moment before Reina speaks up, "If this is about y/n she didn't deserve that job in the first place," she states casually shrugging her shoulders. Atsumu's head jolts up as his thick eyebrows furrow.

"What makes you say that?" Rin asks, just as shocked as Atsumu.

His younger sister just shrugs her shoulders and says, "She always been rude, right? Her job was to take care of you guys, not be pissed at your every move". The two men stare at her not believing the words she states.

Atsumu scoffs and stands up. " 'kay, I've heard enough," he says as he starts grabbing his things shaking his head.

"sumuie come on. Nothing I said wasn't true" she whines standing up to follow him. Rin just rolls his eyes and covers his face with his hands. Her words don't stop him from putting his shoes on.

"Don't ever talk about y/n like that again. Deep down we both know you would do anything to be in her place" He says as he walks out the door. Atsumu was very aware of Reina's infatuation with him. She's nothing but a pig who will do anything for his attention.

Atsumu's phone buzzes as he gets into his car. Checking the screen there are a few messages from Osamu and one new one from Rin.

Rin:

Call me when you get home.

Osamu:

-i may have asked y/n to the gala...

-NOT TRYNA STEAL HER

Taking a deep breath Atsumu closes his phone not having time for this. Pulling out of the parking lot Atsumu questions if he should head to Onigiri Miya or Osamu's place.

Washing your face, you take a look in the mirror. The bags under your eyes are darker over the crying you did with Osamu. You really are thankful for him. It's crazy how Atsumu and him grew up the exact same way yet are so different. Leaving your bathroom you lift up the small fox phone charm Osamu had left for you. He told you to keep it for good luck, but you couldn't help but see how much it looked like Atsumu. The smug look on its face and golden-brown eyes.

Theres light knocks on your door pulling you out of your trance. You could be here this late? The coldness of the genken leaves you shivering as you open the door. Before you stood the same fox, yet his smug smile was no where to be found. His eyebrows were drawn down much like osamu, and he took a deep breath before forcing his words out.

"'S okay if I-uh comin?" His words tired as he speaks. His eyes look to the side as he attempts to force a smile onto his face. Something tells you he really needs this.

"of course you can," you say making space for him in the doorway. He slips off his shoes and mutters a small thank you. The tall man awkwardly stands in the tiny genken seemingly waiting for you to lead the way. You smile a bit as you think about how much he's adopted Sakusa mannerisms. Walking into the living room you take a seat on the old couch and pat the spot next to you.

Atsumu looks around the apartment before asking, "where's the bathroom?". It's obvious he still remembers from when he lived here, but you won't judge him. He must see it as a courtesy. Pointing to the hall the setter quickly walks and shuts the door.

Your phone dings with a notification.

Taglist: OPEN!

@thisbicc @lovley212 @kyowdani @jacelikespp @bubblewordsofsodapop @peppersapro @kuroosluthoe @littlemochi @bai-wuxiangs-mask @anejuuuuoy @shotenvinsoot @msbyomimi @pocketful-ofdaisies @spilled-coffee-cup @briokayama @faumpje @briloves01spirituality

[emma23]

Just a simple tutoring (4)

Tw: Age gasp

————————————————————————

Months passed, and the pause between you and Jonathan stretched out longer than either of you had anticipated. Initially, you both hoped it would be a temporary measure—a way to let things cool down and navigate the complications without putting everything at risk. But as time went on, the distance grew more profound, and the pain of separation became a dull, constant ache.

In an effort to move on, you started dating a guy your age named Tom. He was sweet, attentive, and made you laugh—everything you needed to help you heal. Tom didn't have the same depth or intensity as Jonathan, but he was safe and uncomplicated, and you found comfort in that.

Jonathan, on the other hand, threw himself into his work and his time with Ava. He kept a close eye on you from a distance, seeing you around campus with Tom, his heart heavy with jealousy and regret. He wanted the best for you, and he tried to convince himself that being with someone your age was what you needed. But every time he saw you smile at Tom, it felt like a dagger to his heart.

————————————————————————

One evening, as you were leaving a lecture, you saw Jonathan waiting for you outside. You hadn't spoken much since the break, just a few polite exchanges when you crossed paths at the university. Seeing him there now made your heart race.

"Jonathan," you said, trying to keep your voice steady. "What are you doing here?"

"I needed to talk to you," he said, his eyes intense. "Can we go somewhere private?"

You nodded, leading him to a quiet spot in a nearby park where you used to walk together. The memories flooded back, making your chest tighten.

"I heard you're seeing someone," Jonathan began, his voice strained.

"Yes, his name is Tom," you replied, trying to read his expression. "He's... he's been good to me."

"I'm glad," Jonathan said, though the words seemed to choke him. "You deserve someone who can give you everything."

"Jonathan, what are you trying to say?" you asked, feeling a mix of frustration and sadness.

"I've been trying to convince myself that this is for the best," he admitted, running a hand through his hair. "That you should be with someone your age, someone who can take you out and give you a normal relationship. But I can't stop thinking about you. About us."

Your heart ached at his words, but you tried to stay calm. "You were the one who said we needed to take a break, remember?"

"I know," he said, his voice breaking. "I thought it was the right thing to do. But seeing you with him... it drives me crazy. I can't stand the thought of you being with someone else."

"Jonathan, this isn't fair," you said, tears welling up in your eyes. "You told me to move on, and now you're jealous because I did?"

"I'm sorry," he said, reaching out to take your hand. "I know it's not fair. But I can't help how I feel. I love you, and it's tearing me apart to see you with him."

You pulled your hand away, the anger and pain boiling over. "You don't get to do this. You don't get to decide when you want me and when you don't. I needed you, and you pushed me away."

Jonathan's face contorted with anguish. "I know. I messed up. But I thought I was doing the right thing. For Eva, for us. I didn't want to ruin your life with my baggage."

"You're not baggage," you said, your voice shaking. "You're the man I fell in love with. But you can't just expect me to drop everything now that you changed your mind."

"I don't expect you to," he said softly. "But I can't keep pretending that I'm okay with this. I need you to know how I feel."

The silence between you stretched out, filled with unspoken words and unresolved feelings. Finally, you took a deep breath and spoke.

"What do you want from me, Jonathan?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

"I want another chance," he said, his eyes pleading. "I want us to try again. Properly, this time. No more hiding, no more pauses. Just you and me, figuring it out together."

Your heart pounded in your chest, torn between the past and the future. "And what about Tom? What about Ava? What if Mira tries to take her away?"

"I'll fight for her," Jonathan said, his voice firm. "I'll do whatever it takes to keep Ava in my life. And as for Tom... if you really love him, if he's really what you want, then I'll step aside. But if there's even a part of you that still loves me, then let's give this another shot."

You stared at him, the man who had once been everything to you, now standing before you, vulnerable and open. The decision was agonizing, but deep down, you knew what you wanted.

"I need time," you said finally. "I need to figure things out with Tom. But... I still have feelings for you, Jonathan. I never stopped loving you."

Jonathan stepped closer, his eyes filled with hope and fear. "Then let's take that time. But promise me you'll give us a real chance."

You nodded, tears streaming down your face. "I promise."

As you walked away from the park, your mind was a whirlwind of emotions. The future was uncertain, and the road ahead would be difficult. But you knew one thing for sure: you and Jonathan had unfinished business, and the story between you was far from over.

————————————————————————

Weeks turned into months, and you did your best to navigate your feelings. Tom was understanding but sensed the lingering connection between you and Jonathan. One evening, after a long and heartfelt conversation, you and Tom decided to part ways amicably. It was painful, but you knew it was the right decision.

With Tom out of the picture, you reached out to Jonathan. The moment you saw him again, it was as if no time had passed. The love, the chemistry, the connection—it was all still there, stronger than ever.

One evening, you were at Jonathan's apartment, Ava playing quietly in her room. You turned to him, your voice steady. "Jonathan, I’ve ended things with Tom. I can't keep pretending that I don't want to be with you."

Jonathan's eyes widened in surprise and relief. "You mean that?"

"I do," you said, taking his hand. "But we need to make this work, for real this time. No more doubts, no more second-guessing."

Jonathan pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly. "I promise. We'll make it work, together."

The next few weeks were a whirlwind as you and Jonathan began to navigate your relationship openly. There were challenges, of course—Mira's custody battle was still a looming threat, and balancing your studies and his responsibilities as a father wasn't easy. But every day, you grew stronger together, facing each obstacle hand in hand.

————————————————————————

One sunny afternoon, you and Jonathan took Ava to the park. As you watched Ava laugh and play, Jonathan turned to you, a soft smile on his face.

"I want you to know," he said, his voice filled with emotion, "that I care about. You're my partner, and I love you."

Tears filled your eyes as you looked at him. "I love you too, Jonathan. And we'll get through anything, as long as we're together."

Jonathan leaned in and kissed you gently, the world around you fading away. In that moment, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you and Jonathan would face them together.

As the sun set over the park, you and Jonathan walked hand in hand, Ava skipping along beside you. The future was still uncertain, but you were ready to face it, knowing that your love was strong enough to overcome any obstacle. The journey had been long and difficult, but finally, you had found your way back to each other, and the promise of a new beginning filled your hearts with hope and joy

[808airsoftbros]

My Wives Reaction to You Getting Harrassed at Work (Haseul/Vivi/Yeojin/Nana/Miyeon)

Author: Suddenly felt inspired to write this after listening to a creepypasta story. Anyway hope you enjoy and if you want to check out more of my works do go to the Masterlist :)

Cho Haseul

You were being bullied by your co-worker and your manager was doing nothing about it since he was his son

Being the mother of the family she wouldn't tolerate such treatment for her loved one

"What?! Let me talk to your boss!"

Would confront the manager or the main corporate office no matter how much you begged her not to

At first your manager would laugh at her until he realized that your wife was a famous kpop Idol

In just a split second, he was on his knees begging her not to expose the company and what was going on behind the scenes

"P-Please don't report this! I need this job to pay for my rent! I'm sorry not only I'll fire my son! I'll give him a raise or hell even a promotion!"

In the end, the awful and useless co-worker was fired and of course, he didn't take it too well seeing his own father screwed him but she had private security on stand-by just for this particular result

However after just five months you'd quit that job and work at a bigger company but you were still grateful for what she did for you

Vivi

You were refused a raise despite all the hard work and effort you put into the company and when you just decided to work the bare minimum you were written up for being "lazy"

"What are you serious? What fucking idiot for him not to see the talent inside of you!"

Vivi would've taken a little much of different course of action to the situation

She would first consulted Haseul who's the head of the household and recommended reporting this to your boss's supervisor

But seeing that the CEO was just as useless greedy as the manager she ended up just buying the whole company

"W-What is this?! An ownership contract?!"

"Well, sir, you should've thought about this before treating my husband like shit so from now on, I'll be running this company,"

In just no time you became her secretary and it was a win-win for the both of you now that you get be at her side 24/7

Nana

You got a customer complaint from an actress whom Nana happened to once partnered up with in the past

She'd be perfectly calm about the whole situation and unlike Vivi and the others she'd handle it her own way

"Okay darling, just leave her to me and don't worry about a thing okay~?"

Confused at first but you decided to let her run the show and enjoy it from a safe distance because you know well it will get a bit messy

She'd review the surveillance footage and prove you were just doing your job enforcing the company's policies thus making the actress the guilty one

When she gathered enough evidence, she'd confront her former co-worker and obviously she denied it and made up stories that you were being rude

"Is that so? Well, mind explaining this?"

Shocked and caught red-handed, she knew her life would be over at this moment knowing Nana could just end her career in the blink of an eye

"I-I'm sorry! Please don't turn this into the media!"

Luckily for her, Nana was in a kind mood so she just asked her to apologize, and quickly she obliged

Cho Miyeon

Miss Cho Miyeon is someone you don't want to mess with especially since she is Lieutenant of the (G) I-DLE mafia

The second she heard that you were targetted by your company she wouldn't hesitate to send men to burn their building to the ground

"What is that, my dear? Are they bothering you? Are you okay? I can just send some of my guys to burn the damn place to the ground."

Of course, you begged her not to as this wasn't the first time she committed mass murder and arson

But she'd just bought the whole company and transformed it to serve the Mafia clan

You wanting to continue to live a normal life would just get hired by a different company with better co-workers and management

"Aww~ Baby are you sure you don't want to join us~?"

Sure the offer was tempting as you'd love to be close to Miyeon but it was too much of a risk having a target on your head 24/7

Im Yeojin

Being the youngest of the family and step-sister she'd be mostly concerned about your health and well-being

"Oppa, are you okay?" "Do you need some cuddles~?"

Yeojin wouldn't really do much besides just informing her mothers

"Eomma! Oppa was being bullied! It was his boss again!"

Sadly nobody would take her that seriously as she was too adorable to be intimidating

However she doesn't need to do anything as her Eommas take care of everything for her

"Baby! Eomma said that she voted the CEO out of his office so she's in charge! Isn't that great?!"

For the rest of the night, you two cuddled in her bedroom after partying

[i0veless]

LET ME MAKE IT CLEAR :: KYLIAN MBAPPE

𖥻 SUMMARY ー [ best to eradicate rumours -  in style ] 𖥻 PAIRING ー [ kylian mbappe x fem! rapper/singer! reader  ] 𖥻 GENRE ー [ fluff, suggestive content?, texting au ] 𖥻 WORD COUNT ー [ 1.2k ] 𖥻 WARNINGS ー [ making out, long distanstance?, rumors, mentions of twitter - let me know if I missed anything ] 𖥻 AUTHORS NOTE ー [ anon requested, "could you, please write a story about kylian mbappe and a rapper reader who is like nicki minaj pls" personally, I loved this request and it got me listening to a lot of nicki's music again, and this was actually inspired by one of the queens iconic verses - so hope you like it. also sorry for the lack of posting I have been having major writers block and lack of inspo, hopefully I should get a lot more works out in the next 2-3 week ]

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The rumours were part of the job. Part of the job description is being a celebrity, and in many ways, it could both help and hinder you - especially if you were a woman. On the one hand, it could boost your career; on another, it could sink it faster than the Titanic. Y/N L/N, an influential rapper and singer, knew all too well the impact of having baseless rumours thrown at you. Her name was attached to everyone and anyone (at some point or another) with no rhyme, reason or proof. So it made sense that she chose to ignore most of them and focus on herself and her private life.

Yes, her private life was why everyone speculated, as people wondered who had stolen her heart. The rapper had stated that she was in a relationship multiple times but refused to specify with who as she wished for the relationship to remain private. But you know, the internet, they can't keep their noses out of other people's business. So naturally, the witch hunt began, and Twitter went up in flames every other day, trying to figure out who had captured the up-and-coming star's heart. No name was off-limits.

In the beginning, Y/N found all the hilarious speculation amusing, laughing about it with her friends (who were said to be possible love interests), but after a while, it started to get on her nerves. People were relentlessly holding on to the topic like a dog with a chew toy, and after six months and a discussion with her lover, she finally decided to put the rumours to rest - in style.

"Are you sure?" the rapper's close friend and manager Monica asked for the nth time of the night as they stood backstage. "I'm positive Mon. I've talked with Ky about it, and he agreed," the couple agreed they were going to reveal their relationship on one of the most important dates of the music calendar, the 67th Grammy Awards. But in a far more creative way than most normally would. As they say, nothing conveys emotions better than music.

"Now, welcome to the stage for her first-ever grammy performance Y/N L/N!" stepping out on stage, the air was heavy with tension as the crowd of fans and other music alumni were eager to see the artist who had been nominated for 5 Grammys preform. The lights dimmed, and the backup dancers got into their positions as the backtrack began to play.

"I never fucked Giroud. I never fucked Neymar. On my life, man, Fuck's sake. If I did, I'd menage with 'em, And let's eat my ass like a cupcake. My man full, he just ate, I don't duck nobody, But tape. Oh, and yeah, and by the way, my man's name is Kylian Mbappé." The audience was shocked at the freestyle rap, and the camera panned to the faces of other celebs to get their shocked reaction. The most notable one was that of the queen bee herself Beyoncé as she nodded in approval and bopped to the beat, while another memorable response was that of one of her best friends, Doja Cat, as she was losing it with laughter.

The freestyle then segued into her Grammy-nominated song Woman, as the flawless choreography and unforgettable spotlight moments made it one of the night's best performances. It ended in thunderous applause and multiple viral moments. As she walked backstage after the successful performance, she wiped off the thin layer of sweat from her forehead. She opened her phone to find it crowded with thousands of notifications, but the only ones she was only interested in were those from the love of her life - Kylian Mbappe.

KY KY

people are already talking lol by the way great performance mon ange your ass looked great on the carpet give me a private concert later?

Y/N only if you can keep up mon roi

KY KY you know I love it when you speak french ma reine

Y/N what can I say I have a great teacher

KY KY you know I can teach you so much more than french

Y/N really? I doubt it babe

KY KY come back home and I'll prove you so wrong mon amour

Y/N baby you know I can't I have press and shit to deal with

KY KY ik ik but a man can dream can't he

Y/N have fun entertaining yourself my dear

(5 photos attached) (2 videos attached)

KY KY your gonna get it when you get back

Another thing you should know about being a celebrity because it makes you an awfully good liar. Now there was no sinister intent behind Y/N lying to Kylian. The rapper just wanted to surprise him, so as she pulled into the new PSG training centre, she kept a relatively low profile as the new owner of five Grammys did not want to attract any unwanted attention. Walking to the reception, she was greeted by one of the coaching assistants and a few cameras. She had let them in on her plan to surprise her boyfriend, and in return for their help, they would get a video for their youtube channel.

As they walked towards the outdoor training area where the first team where hard at work, sure, they all looked hot, but Kylian was miles more than the others. Hot and sweaty, looking like some sex god rather than a Ligue 1 player. The number seven played a round of Tika taka with Neymar, Messi, Ramos, Hakimi and Veratti. He was oblivious to what was happening as Y/N slowly crept up behind him - placing a finger over your lips to tell his teammates to keep quiet after they noticed your presents.

"So Kylian, how's everything with your girl" Neymar, the little pot stirrer he is, had to milk this situation for its worth so that he could have something to tease his teammate with later. "Great man, I mean, god, she's perfect. I know it's a bit early to say, but I can see myself marrying her." safe to say everyone's hearts melted at the French player as he gushed over his girlfriend. Tried to hide, Y/N embraced her boyfriend in a hug from behind. "I love you too, Ky."

Turning around in shock, safe to say, Mbappe's eyes were larger than a football as he spun his girl in the air before kissing her. "What are you doing here? I thought you had work." the football star asked with nothing but love and affection as he buried his head in the crook of her neck. "I missed you. And I wanted to surprise you. Also, I lied." the rapper said, giggling at the look on his face. "Why you, little" With that, Kylian threw her over his shoulder and ran off with her as she screamed in fear and begged to be put down. Kylian refused.

As everyone watched the reunited couple get lost in their world, they couldn't help but smile at how happy the two made each other. "They are gonna get married," Ramos said, taking a sip of his water. "And I will be Kylian's best man," Neymar said jokingly. "Hate to break it to you, brother, but as long as I live and breath, that position is not available", Hakimi chimed in bluntly.

[yuimatsumatsuno]

This is very specific and i'm too tired to check the mistakes in my writing so pls ignore and forgive them 😞

I'm from a country well knowed for being too friendly and even shameless and i was wondering how would be the matsuno brothers reaction to it.

Things such as alot of bodycontact when they as barely know each others (like, yn is their new neigthboor and she just greet them with hugs and kisses on the cheek—its pretty common here at least in my state) she talking about private subjects like is nothing much while they are dumbfolded in shock

Hi Hi!! Sorry it took me so long to write, I really like your idea! Unfortunately, I’m afraid that I couldn’t accurately understand the traditions of your countries, but I hope that I was able to satisfy you :3

Matsuno brothers x fem!reader

Short headcanons

TW//CW: ???

At first Osomatsu won’t understand, and will fall into a wild stupor when you just hug him.  he'll make a joke like, "Ooohh shit, haha! you really like me, don't you?" but when you kiss him on the cheek, it won't be so easy for him. But when he learns about the traditions of your country, he will laugh awkwardly, scratching his nose with his index finger in a familiar gesture. but he will still be a little awkward to hug you and kiss you on the cheek, after all, he has never had such intimacy with beautiful girls like you.

Karamatsu will be taken by surprise, because he has never hugged strange girls! he will try to regain the look of a confident hot guy, but he will look like a red awkward virgin. Having learned that you are from another country, he will understand and try to get used to your unusual friendliness and will also begin to joyfully greet you with hugs. in fact, he likes this feature about you, yet he rarely gets to hug someone. (PLEASE HUG HIM OFTEN HE DESERVES BETTER)

Choromatsu is the worst option of all. He literally goes crazy with your every touch, which highlights the fact how much of a virgin he is. He will try to stop reacting this way when he learns about your country, but he still finds it difficult to accept your hugs and kisses sometimes.

For Ichimatsu, these would be the most awkward moments of his life. when an attractive girl hugs and kisses him, he feels cornered. he will also try to respond to hugs in a friendly manner, but at first he will most likely avoid you, hide, and simply be afraid. It will take a long time until he starts to get used to it.

for Jyushimatsu it... doesn't matter? Seriously, this guy is definitely up for hugs and friendly kisses himself. Of all the Matsunos, the 5th brother has the most normal reaction. You can tell that he will be delighted when he learns about your traditions and will begin to ask more. From the moment he learns this fact, Jyushimatsu hugs you in greeting more often, and this is the norm for both of you.

Todomatsu immediately knew this fact, after all, from the very first meeting, he scrolled through all your social networks, looked through all your photos and extracted every information from you, as usual, using the cute face of an innocent little devil. He will make the most of this fact, never missing a chance to hug you with an innocent giggle and smell your hair while the rest of his brothers glare at him and want to kill him. I do not advise trusting a Matsuno like Totty. he knows exactly what he's doing.

[juyomiao]

take the chance - ricky

ricky x gn!reader

genre: fluff !!! , best friends to lovers

word count: 791

warnings: ENGLISH ISNT MY FIRST LANGUAGE!! so theres going to be mistakes !!! , alcohol consumption but its barely mentioned , is it considered underage drinking if it'd only be considered as underage drinking in countries where the drinking age is above 18/19 ,, (i feel bad for u if u r from any of those countries fr)

note: first actually written work im kinda # nervous my writing skills r .. definitely writing !! this is cringe cliché and based on a dream i had like a month ago . yes im a lesbian yes i dream abt kissing ricky thats completely normal . (friends dont read this i want to disappear rn as i speak)

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You've been to countless parties since the half of the previous school year when your best friend Ricky became popular out of nowhere. You still don't know where that popularity came from, he's always been good looking, it's not like he had some kind of glow up.

Sometimes you think it's more of a curse than a blessing, with all the times you've been dragged to a party you were not invited to because Ricky, being the introvert he is, refuses to go anywhere without you and, consequently, getting dirty looks from everyone for tagging along and 'leeching' off of Ricky's popularity.

Even now, when people have more or less come to terms with the fact that you two are a package deal, you still despise parties, only appreciating a few things about them, like drinking for free and… nothing else, really.

It's not like Ricky enjoys them either, he'd rather stay home with you and watch some romance drama as you eventually fall asleep with your head on his shoulder. But it's not like he can reject every single invite thrown at him. So you two came to a compromise: one weekend at a party, one weekend at your house.

The boredom of awkwardly standing in a corner as you silently watch yet another drunk couple make out, careless of the countless other people surrounding them, soon gets to you, and you blurt out a question.

"Have you ever kissed someone?"

Ricky's calm expression falters for a second, his eyes widening. He just hopes the dimly lit room is hiding the blush creeping on his cheeks.

He's your best friend, how do you not know?

Well, Ricky is a private person and, even having known him for years, he barely talks about his romantic life, so you've never dared prying into it.

"Of course," he says, after composing himself "You?"

You shake your head, breaking eye contact with him. "And I don't think it's going to happen any time soon," you sigh. At this point, it's a hopeless mission.

Ricky is convinced if it wasn't for the loud music in the background, everyone would be able to hear the cogs turning in his brain as it processes this information.

His best friend – whom he has had a crush on since forever – has never kissed someone.

Ricky looks at you through the corner of his eye, wondering if he should take the chance and possibly change your relationship forever – for the better or the worse, he doesn't know.

To you, though, it just looks like he's side-eyeing you with his usual unreadable expression, and you think you fucked up. You assume he's judging you, because not only are you a complete, bitchless loser, but you brought the conversation up yourself.

"Forget it, I don't know why I said that, sorry, now you probably think I'm weird and…" you start rambling, and to Ricky, that's the cutest thing he has ever seen.

God, he's really that down bad.

Suddenly, an idea pops up in his head.

"Can I kiss you?"

The abrupt question leaves you speechless, your words dying in your mouth as you look at him like he has grown a second head.

"What?" It sounds dumb once you say it, but you genuinely think you misheard him. There's no way Ricky, of all people, would ask you something like that.

Ricky smiles, "I said," he turns with his shoulder leaning on the wall so he can look at you directly "Can I kiss you?"

You blink at him, dumbfounded "Wha- what? Did you… what? Did you actually say that? Am I hearing this right?"

Ricky nods, clearly amused by your reaction

"If this is a joke, it's not funny, like, at all."

"Why would I be joking?" Ricky's expression goes back to deadpan serious, he inches closer to your face "So? Is this a yes?"

You nod slowly, still trying to process what's happening. You shouldn't want this, you shouldn't be so tempted to kiss your best friend. But you are.

Before you can overthink it any further, Ricky closes the space between you two. He's hesitant at first, his lips barely brushing against yours, but when you clumsily try to reciprocate the kiss, he takes the lead.

It doesn't feel special, or magic, or like anything else people have described their first kiss as. It's just two best friends who realized their feelings for each other. And to you, that's perfect.

"So… now what?"

"How about we get out of here and go on a date?" You sigh, shaking your head, "Ricky, it's…" you check your phone "1 AM, where would we even go?"

He seems to genuinely think about it for a solid one or two minutes "McDonald's?"

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note 2 bc i cant stfu : WHY IS THE ENDING SO RUSHED I WANT TO SCREAM.. but i've wanted to post this for like a week now so im posting it anyways , pls leave some feedback if u liked it 🫶🏻

[changingplumbob]

A Guide to my Content Warnings

Please note I will not label posts simply for having LGBTQIA+ characters because a)I'd probably label every post and b)LGBTQIA+ people exist, I'm one of them. We're not going anywhere and if our existence offends you I humbly invite you to unfollow me.

Most of the time my stories are in the G/PG realm but occasionally they'll drift into the M realm, or mention topics which may be hard for some people. I thought I'd make this guide to attach to my future posts with content warnings (cw) so you know what to expect. I do overuse content warnings but I'd rather take the time than have someone be surprised in a way that will muck up their day. If you feel I haven't labelled something I should have that occurs in my stories just let me know.

Common or repeated topics are

Low Level Sim Spice Moderate Sim Spice Mentions/Discussions of Death Pet and/or Sim Death Mentions of Violence Distressed Infant/Toddler/Child Language Mental Health Struggles

Low Level Sim Spice

My sims being extra flirty. Usually contains innuendo or talk of what they want their woohoo to be like. It also includes sims using suggestive language.

Examples

Rahul: *chuckles and winks* Later, we’ve got to get these ones sorted. But you are also looking very tasty Mrs Chopra. So maybe we’ll both have some private dining later Samir: Jerk. Almost makes me want to bend you over the table just to spite him Reece: I mean you could and I would endorse such action

Moderate Sim Spice

Contains a scene with woohoo that's more than the sims disappearing under the covers. Will sometimes have what sims are saying as they woohoo or vague descriptions of their actions.

Examples

Rahul manages to maintain his composure until she begins to slide his fingers into her mouth and his lust overcomes him. Now he knew every sigh, shiver and squeal Cassandra made meant that she loved him. Tuesday: You see how I did that, you try Monica: But will he really like that Joey: Most guys do Tuesday: Trust me. A girl can do a heck of a lot just by playing with things in her mouth

Images will not show pixel parts (genitalia or female nipples) but occur during woohoo.

Examples

Mentions/Discussions of Death

There will be mention or discussion of a sim having passed away. Sims may also talk about how the loss affected them.

Examples

Charlie is understandably devastated. She had Allie for half of her own life, and doesn’t have many happy memories that don’t include the dog. Marta: I didn’t have to leave after padre and mama died. I had the community still but I felt alone

Pet and/or Sim Death

Either a pet or sim dies. I have changed to NOT show the pet/sim when dead, but my older content may have a few dead human sims. I normally show a photo on the wall of them and/or the urn. When my characters die they go to the timeless save where they are young so this will also be shown.

Examples

In the early hours Allie crosses the rainbow bridge After taking Sachiko’s remains to the cemetery... Indeed, a hop skip and jump later he’s in the timeless save with his mum and fellow litter mates. Dale happily plays at peace... Olive: All sims deserve to rest, no matter what they have or have not done

Mentions of Violence

I don't like to show violence, the most you'll get from me is the clouds when sims fight. However some of my sims have had violence in their pasts. Mentions can range from stating what happened to more vivid descriptions but these will not be shown.

Examples

Unfortunately Joey is knocked down before he can get a word out. Liam yells and charges at Keira, beginning an all out brawl. I’m sorry to say Othman was in several pieces, and the blood pools around him appeared to have been walked through.

Distressed Infant/Toddler/Child

No one enjoys seeing a kid panicking so I like to warn people before hand if it will be more than the usual tummy time or night night time crying.

Examples

Viola sniffles and wipes her tears from under her glasses. Why won’t this lady just pick her up? She loves being carried and desperately wants a cuddle. Tiana panics... She is alone again! Feeling betrayed she bursts into tears.

Language

Most of the time I do enjoy keeping the vocab family friendly as that's what I enjoy reading. But with some of my side projects the characters feel like they swear so I will be letting some of them use mild swearing.

Mental Health Struggles

I like to flag these so that anyone having a tough day can get a heads up. Generally it will be mentioning a sim struggles with depression or anxiety. There may be descriptions of their moods, thought patterns or conditions. This will not include suicidal thoughts.

[tashacee]

I am almost certain you've gotten this ask before, but I cannot find it for the life of me, so

Mask!Wild does Untarnished

I don't think it would work exactly the same, since Untarnished!Wild is post-TOTK rather than BOTW, meaning the Shadow needs to find new and exciting ways to traumatize the Bean. But thinking about how he would interact with the First in exactly the same way (First starts crying about it (just like me)).

HKJGJHGJHFGH EXCITE

I've done an Aspect meets Untarnished but not the Bean. Oooooh this is gonna be so sweet.

Spoilers under the cut for Untarnished!

When Wild first hears Wind's tale of a ghost, he is ... shocked.

Not that ghosts are real - he knows that intimately. But that one could be stuck here, on the Surface, alone, for so long? That he cannot move on because his own people, the ones who he defended with his life, shunned him?

Wild can barely abide it. He lies awake in the small domitory that night, unable to get the thought out of his head. His room, like all in the academy, is private, so he has his mask off and is running a hand over his scars as he lies there, thinking.

It- it's not quite the same. But Wild knows something about giving everything to a people, only to be- to be shunned. He's still not completely convinced that Rhoam's words to him were unwarranted but... he thinks he might be able to understand.

If nothing else, Wild knows what it is to be lonely. He wouldn't wish that on anyone.

So he sneaks down that first night, mask strapped tightly in place, wearing an extra, long robe over his normal baggy tunic to try and hide the worst of his destroyed body. Whoever this ghost is, he doesn't need to see that. Frankly he could probably use better company than Wild, but that's what he's got.

From the First's point of view, the door to his little room opened again and a lantern lit him up. A figure stepped into the room, a boy, thin and scrawny, with a mask on his face. The First had seen him before, with the others who came earlier. The boy in the mask hung at the back of the group and tried to be as unobtrusive as possible, signing when he had something to say. If it hadn't been for the mask, the First may not have noticed him at all.

But here he was, dithering in the doorframe, shifting from foot to foot.

"Wind said you were lonely." he signed at last, and then made a squeaking noise. "S-sorry." he said out loud. "I don't know how well you know sign, I- sorry."

he came forwards, carefully setting his lamp on a table to the side and looking cautiously in the direction of the First's stool.

"My name is Wild." he said, and his rough voice was barely more than a whisper. "I- I'm sorry for intruding. It's just- W-Wind said you were lonely. I thought I could... keep you company? He said you liked stories so I thought I could maybe- maybe tell you mine."

The First felt his heart swell with affection for this nervous, kind boy. The kid clearly hated being at the centre of attention, but here he was, for his sake, standing up and talking. The First wished he could say something to him, anything to put him at ease, to tell him how grateful he was.

The boy - Wild - dithered a moment more before sitting down and beginning his story. A prophecy. A world preparing for Calamity. A battle and a downfall. A death - Hylia, the boy had died -

And then a resurrection. The boy didn't say, but the First was certain that whatever the mask hid was because of whatever injuries he sustained in death. And what was more, the First was positive that some vile, wicked person had put a fear into Wild of being seen.

He would like to meet this person. Just to talk, of course.

Wild still falls asleep in the room. Wolfie still comes and recovers him. The first is grateful, and asks Twilight to thank Wild - and to tell him that his presence is valued. Always.

-

Wild's trial in his own era is largely the same. He goes to his own grave. He fights the beast that killed him. Some of the nuances change but the end result is largely the same. It's - it's harrowing for him. He hasn't destroyed the Shrine yet in this AU so it's still there, coffin and all, and he feels sick the whole time.

And, when he fights the guardian, a stray spark from its beam burns his mask off. His brothers, at this stage, have all seen his face before but that's of little comfort when the battle is done and Wild is trembling, having faced down his own death and lost his last vestige of protection.

They have to have a BIG cuddle pile after that, and Wild fishes a spare mask out of his slate.

-

Back in Sky's era, when it comes to visiting the First, Wild is a regular, especially when they discover that Time's mask can be used to see him.

Wild is... nervous about this at first. To put one mask on he has to remove another. Will the First be angry at his lack of trust if he turns away to do so? And whatabout the inset on the inside of his mask - should he put one on Time's just for now? So that he can speak?

In the end he needn't have worried. The First is patient when he turns to put the mask on, even if it takes a while to put the temporary rubber ridge on the inside. When Wild turns back he's shocked to see a kind, patient face smiling at him, and the First signing how glad he is to finally meet him properly.

And yes, okay, Wild cries. But like. He does that a lot at this point, anyway.

-

Towards the end, when the sword is recovered and preparations for the funeral are underway, Wild continues to visit. Then, one day, as he goes to put on the mask of truth, he pauses. Glances at the chair where he knows the First sits. Swallows.

"I-" he chokes out. "I hope i don't offend you."

And this time, when he takes off his mask to put on time's one, he doesn't turn away. He lets the First see the ruin of his face, even if it terrifies him. When he puts the mask of truth on after, trembling, and looks up, the First is smiling at him.

"Thank you for trusting me." the First signs. "I am proud to have you as my brother."

-

The rest proceeds as before. The battle with Demise. The funeral. The Passing and the True Dream.

The First Link always hold's a special place in Wild's heart, and the next time he returns to his own era and makes offerings to the dead, he is among those he remembers.

[inkbeanjo]

Sorry for being annoying but i have more questions about your OCs. So i am still kinda rotating my overly cybered up shadowrun oc idea in my head and i am wondering, How would Moni, Retro and the others react to someone who is seemingly an outsider but has abilities similar to a technomancer? My diea for my oc was that due to all her cybernetics it has kinda fused her soul with tech and gives her the ability to do stuff like remotely control technology, access the net without a deck, that kind of s tuff, but its also in a very uncontrolled way so she has to deal with like the equvlent of being bombarded with info and ads 24/7 which does not do her mental health any favors and has to rely on software to try and filter all of that out. So how would they react if say during one of their private chat room sessions, my oc unconciously just popped in unannounced, and there is a outsider who by appearance shouldnt be able to do what she is doing, doing what appears to be technomancy, to talk to them?

This splits two ways tbh- like between what shadowrun's setting sets up, and between how neo-a's setting divorces from that if that tracks In shadowrun, while the resonance is something more or less exclusive to technomancers to wield, it's not a space void of non-technomancer influence; the big ten more or less built the matrix on the backs of technos, to the point that host foundations are believed to dip into the resonance's upper layers- moreover a lot of normal people get swept up in resonance/techno bullshit pretty frequently, whether through errant sprites or clinging dissonance/having a slight spark of resonance by being tangled in it so much, or the weirder circumstances of being in the wrong place at the wrong time for a resonance well to form in digital space, sucking you off to god knows where. For the normal person separate from all this, with a wireless-enabled datajack/smartlink/synthetic eyes/really any number of augmentations, one can experience the wonders and hells of controlling the matrix and always-online connections whether they want to or not- so in your character's case and in the shadowrun setting by raw, any of these might be the case. A normal person seeing/interacting with resonance shit is usually the sign of a burgeoning technomancer to-be, but that's just my two cents it's less straightforward in the comic setting Neo-a's based on the games I got to play and co-write with a handful of close friends, but I've put a lot of work into beginning to divorce it from shadowrun- mostly in settling on to-be revealed isms and logical consistencies for how, thematically, a dystopia and universe operate when there's reality-altering magic and weirdass computer-magic that extends beyond the screen (also to be revealed, this's directly after chapter 4 in some ways) The center pillar of neo-a as a setting is that it's Weird- that the universe does not operate in logical or sensical ways, and is quite frankly glaringly flawed to the point that it stutters, breaks, or bleeds out in dysfunctional overlap. It's a reality of unreality layered in intersectional/existential bullshit (we'll get there), and where one or several (or many) people might be convinced that things operate with rhyme and reason in predictable fashion the truth is that those are snippets of understanding at best. There are exceptions across the board and oddities all around that don't fit into the norm of how things should be; "why can this person see/interact with the reverb without being a techno" is a question born out of surprise as likely to get answered as "why does this number keep showing up everywhere in my life"- or on the same train of thought, "why doesn't this person notice that number constantly showing up?" I can't really play my hand too much because I do very much want to show rather than tell in the comic's case (and I will), but the gist is "they're surprised and very cagey" in response to both xwxb

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

hey anon, are you talking about the "what if" theme, or something else?

I’m talking about the “what if” theme! I think it’s present in all the relationships she described, but I like to your thoughts about it after reading your notes to someone’s else post

ah ok thanks for clarifying!

So I didn't mean that the "what if" followed through many of relationships specifically, more that there are certain themes/patterns that repeated themselves throughout her adult life.

Some of them would be too delicate to really get into I think due to the personal nature of it all and the parasocialism of it, but I think we can see some themes in the music she writes about these experiences. Being drawn to quick, fiery passion and charismatic personalities. Falling for men who are kind of unattainable in some way (age, personality, maturity, career, you name it), yet use that unavailability to keep her at arm's length and kind of dictate the parameters of the relationship. Being made to feel like what makes her her -- her personality, her tastes, her dreams, her goals, her career, her fame, etc. -- is somehow in conflict with the ability to be the partner they want. The conflict between being "normal" and being extraordinary. (I.e. the conflict between private and public life.) The wanting to be known and figuring out the partner in question just doesn't want to know parts of her. Wanting everything out of a relationship and getting crickets in return. Having those dreams used against her. And on and on. These are all one men and all of them throughout her discography.

Others have done a much better job at parsing through the "what ifs" throughout her albums. Some of them are wistful (Back to December -- what if I hadn't done what I did), some of them are more reflective (The 1 -- we were something don't you think so?) or mournful (Cardigan -- I knew you'd haunt all of my what-ifs), regretful (WCS -- I damn sure never would have danced with the devil) and so on. She's haunted by memory in so much of her music, just like she's haunted by the idea that she'll be forgotten, because she desperately wants to feel like she mattered. (Which ties into the relationship stuff about being made to feel like she never quite measured up.) It's like with every relationship breakdown, she wonders if something could have been different, or if it was inevitable that it would end.

These are all kind of half-baked ideas, sorry!