#there are even more sad ending ones out there
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fushitoru · 12 hours ago
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thinking about writing a reincarnated/isekai!gojo and reader series...
you and gojo were married in canon/jjk verse.
you’ve seen his mental health deteriorate because of the higher ups and how he’s perceived as a weapon and is a weapon. satoru’s mental health has been descending for a very long time, and by the end, when you’re soullessly watching his dead body projected by mei mei’s crows, you blankly volunteer to be next (ignoring all of kashmo's protests).
can anyone blame you? your life has no purpose anymore. you and satoru were never able to get the life you deserve. late nights spent waiting in bed for your lover, seeing the love of your life get burdened more and more from the weight of his responsibilities, and, in the end, even witnessing him volunteer his own body as if he were a doll, a weapon. you know damn well you're not going to spend the rest of your life replacing the flowers on his grave and try to reform the society that never even cared about satoru anyways.
you don’t last very long fighting sukuna, and you die, praying to whatever merciless god out there that, in another life, you and satoru get the happy ending you both deserved, that he wouldn't be the one that got away—
you wake up from your dream, gasping. you don’t know why it was so vivid; all you remember is that you were some kind of magician? like winx club? harry potter? hunter x hunter? and you had a husband and he WAS SMOKING HOT. also both of you died and you were kind of sad, because he was hot :(
so—as a college student—you head to your first lecture of the year. you’ve decided to switch majors and have to take this dumb math class that’s a gen ed and is filled with people. so you take one of two empty spots remaining.
the lecture goes on, until professor yaga rolls his eyes and suddenly everyone’s heads is turned towards the door, so you just follow the crowd.
and there he is.
a boy with the most stunning white hair and sheepish blue eyes upholding a charming grin, yelling out something undoubtedly snarky while taking his seat, some people dapping him up as he makes his way to the only seat—-the one next to you.
as he’s setting his stuff down, and he turns to look at you. blinks.
A breathless, “Hi.”
And then, your story begins again.
AHH COMMENT IF you want to be on the taglist <3
this is basically me giving you and gojo the rom com you deserve. does he remember you? did he get the same dream as you? and will he call the police if you chase after him, insisting he's your husband and the love of your life? stay tuned! prepare for angst (hurt/comfort), pining, and ridiculously horny reunion sex (at the end after i make you suffer and yearn, of course)
and to my bridgerton!gojo readers, i promise i will publish the first chapter only after chapter ten/eleven of bridgerton!gojo is out <3
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dollishmehrayan · 2 days ago
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# BATBOYS WITH A SUNSHINE!READER ── .✦ ( basically batboys with a optimistic reader )
a/n: this was requested by anon (here) but anywayss i think I’m gonna do the world tour thing after my winter inspired fics/hcs end on like February 28th! (Dw i’ll still do the world tour thingy in between) but yahh also I desperately need writer mutals + mutals I mssg daily like I’m a very kind person idm if you dm me at like 4 AM, tags: (batboys x fem!reader)
© dollishmehrayan — ( all rights reserved to me. These works cannot be reposted, translated, or modified. Thank you for understanding dollies! )
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DICK GRAYSON ── .✦
Absolutely smitten. Your optimism is like a magnet for Dick, who thrives on positivity.
He calls you his “little ray of sunshine” (even if you roll your eyes at the nickname).
If he’s feeling down, your relentless optimism is a game changer. “How do you do that? How do you make the world seem so… bright all the time?”
Constantly teases you, especially if you’re being overly cheerful during random moments. “Are you seriously smiling right now? We’re getting ready to head to bed!”
But secretly, he loves it. Your energy balances his occasional doubts && insecurities. (he lovesss positive people who live in their own world)
Dick starts picking up on your habits leaving little notes of encouragement, giving random compliments to strangers and realizes how much better it makes his day.
JASON TODD ── .✦
At first, he’s skeptical. He’s not used to someone so genuinely cheerful, and he might think you’re putting on an act.
“How are you this happy all the time? What’s your secret? Coffee? Dark magic?”, “I just like seeing the world differently, I’m a poet in my mind.”
But over time, he warms up to your positivity and even craves it (to a point he gets sad if you aren’t around for more than 4 hours). You’re the light that cuts through his darker moments and more sulking personality.
“I don’t know how you do it, but you make me feel like the world’s not completely screwed.”, “what did you say?-“, “Nothing go back to sleep.”
He pretends to be annoyed when you try to cheer him up after a rough day, but he secretly loves when you coax a laugh out of him.
Jason starts jokingly calling you his “emotional support sunshine.” He’ll tell Roy, “Yeah, they’re like my personal antidepressant.”
Will protect your positivity at all costs. If anyone tries to dim your light, they’ll have to deal with him.
TIM DRAKE ── .✦
Finds your optimism so refreshing. Tim can be a little too caught up in stress and overthinking, so your energy is like a breath of fresh air.
He’s constantly asking, “How are you so happy all the time? Teach me your ways.”
If you leave him little notes of encouragement, he’ll treasure them forever. He has a drawer full of them and pulls one out whenever he’s having a bad day.
Sometimes, your cheerfulness makes him feel a little guilty. “You’re so good, and here I am being a grump.” But you always remind him it’s okay to have bad days.
Tim loves how you bring optimism even to his most chaotic moments. “Yeah, sure, we’re being late, but hey, at least it’s not raining, right?”
He’d be a little overwhelmed by your energy at times, but he admires you deeply for seeing the good in everything.
DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦
Damian does not know what to do with you at first. Your cheerfulness is a complete mystery to him.
“Why are you smiling? We are surrounded by incompetence.”
He pretends to be annoyed, but deep down, he finds your positivity oddly comforting.
Over time, he starts looking forward to your optimistic take on things. “Yes, fine, maybe there is a silver lining. Stop gloating.”
You have a knack for breaking through his tough exterior. If he’s grumpy, you’ll say something so genuinely kind that he can’t help but soften.
Damian secretly loves how you see the good in him, even when he doesn’t see it himself.
He starts to mimic your habits, like giving Alfred small compliments or trying to look on the bright side, but he’ll deny it if you call him out.
BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦
Bruce admires your positivity but doesn’t always understand it. “How do you manage to stay so cheerful in Gotham of all places?”
At first, he worries your optimism will make you naive, but he quickly realizes it’s your strength.
Your energy is a stark contrast to his brooding nature, and he starts leaning on it more than he cares to admit.
When he’s stuck in his head or doubting himself, you always know what to say to pull him out of it.
“You make it sound so simple,” he says after you give him one of your pep talks. But he smiles because somehow, you do make it simple.
You bring a sense of warmth and nostalgia into the Wayne Manor. Bruce finds himself more relaxed when you’re around, even in the middle of chaos.
He’ll never admit it to the others, but your optimism is one of his favorite things about you.
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rmview · 2 days ago
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they beg to be taken back, SKZ.
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featuring — stray kids members x gn!reader ( masterlist )
summary — a reaction of how the stray kids boys realize they can’t live without you, and come to beg you for a second chance!
contents — angst, mentions of fights, possible reconciliation.
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bang ♢ chan
bang chan had always been composed, the leader who held everyone together. but when you broke up with him, the cracks in his armor showed. he respected your decision and convinced himself that it was for the best, despite the emptiness growing unbearable.
he wasn’t himself since and the people around him began to notice. the usual spark in his eyes dimmed, and the weight of your absence felt suffocating. he replayed the last argument over and over in his head, agonizing over what he could’ve done differently. but as much as he respected your decision, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he needed to try, just one more time, to fight for what you both had.
it was late when he showed up at your doorstep, his hand hovering over the doorbell. when you answered, you were more than surprised to see him standing there, his shoulders slightly hunched as if he was carrying the weight of the world. his hair was disheveled, eyes rimmed red. he looked like he hadn’t slept in days.
“chan? what are you doing here?” the nickname slipped from your lips almost too easily and you suppressed the urge to recoil. being around him — being his, was too easy. even with the two months apart, one look into his eyes was all it took for everything to come rushing back.
“i… i needed to see you,” he said, his voice trembling slightly and his australian accent slightly thicker, which was a sign of his nervousness. “i know you said that it’s over, but i can’t accept it — not without trying to make things right.”
you felt something in your chest lurch, and for a few moments you were rendered speechless. a large part of you wanted to forget the fight and what lead up to it, but the smaller part of you kept reminding you of how alone he made you feel despite being together. “we’ve already talked about this. you need to let me go. i... i don’t want to go back to feeling the way i did.”
he shook his head, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. “i can’t just let you go,” he admitted, his voice cracking. “i know i messed up. i wasn’t there for you when you needed me most, i treated you like another responsibility, and i hate myself for it. but please, give me a chance to prove that i can do better. i can’t lose you like this.”
“chan…” you looked away, your heart breaking at the vulnerability in his voice. your own eyes blurred with tears and you tried to blink them away.
“i know i’m asking a lot,” he continued, taking a tentative step closer. his hands itched with the need to reach out for your waist; the feeling of your skin under his palms a muscle memory. “but i love you. i love you more than anything, and i can’t imagine my life without you in it. tell me what i need to do, and i’ll do it. just… don’t give up on us.”
his desperation was raw and unfiltered, and it was clear that he’d spent every waking moment thinking about this moment. whether you took him back or not, he was determined to fight for you until the very end.
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felix ♢
felix was a wreck after the breakup. the ever-present sunshine in his personality dimmed, replaced by a quiet sadness that the others noticed but didn’t know how to fix. he replayed the moments leading up to your decision endlessly, wondering where he went wrong. no matter how hard he tried to respect your choice and acknowledge his mistakes, his heart refused to let it go.
one rainy evening, he found himself standing in the reception office of your workplace while soaked to the bone. he didn’t care that the receptionist was eyeing him in annoyance for dripping on the floors, or that he looked homeless from his red-rimmed eyes and masked face. when you finally made your way down after a call from your superiors, you were shocked.
“felix? what the hell?” you whisper-yelled, your voice laced with concern despite the shock as you grasped his arms to lead him to the bathrooms instead of the ac-blasting reception so he wouldn’t get sick.
“i had to see you,” he said, his voice trembling. both from the cold and his overwhelming feelings. “i couldn’t just… let it end like that.”
you sighed, grasping his freezing hands in yours and holding it under the hot air of the hand drier, not caring that you were in the men’s room. felix couldn’t care less either as he momentarily basked in the feeling of your soft hands in his after so long. “i know i hurt you, and i hate myself for it. but i can’t let you go without telling you how much you mean to me.”
“and you thought this was the smartest way to do it? by getting yourself sick?” you shook your head, trying to keep your emotions in check. he broke your heart, you tried to remind yourself to keep yourself steely. it didn’t work.
“i know i made mistakes,” he continued, his voice breaking as he sniffled and you avoided his gaze and chalked it up to the cold. “i wasn’t there for you the way i should have been. but you… you’re everything to me. you’re the reason i smile, the reason i wake up in the morning. please, tell me how to fix this.”
his vulnerability was heart-wrenching and you felt your own eyes blur through your silence. felix didn’t look away from you the entire time, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “i’ll do anything, anything to make things right. just… don’t walk away from me. from us.”
as the rain continued to pour outside, felix stood there, baring his soul to you. he wasn’t just asking for forgiveness — he was offering every piece of himself, hoping it would be enough to convince you to take him back.
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lee ♢ know
lee know was stubborn by nature, and after the breakup, he tried to convince himself he didn’t need anyone. he put on a brave face around the others, burying himself in practice and work. taking on excess time to keep his mind off you worked for a while, but even then every time he went home to the empty silence of his apartment, your absence hit him like a freight train.
his members began to notice his stubbornness and attempt to dismiss your relationship, giving him the space he needed as they hoped he’d work through it. but it began to become clear he was taking the ostrich’s way out — burying his head in the sand and pretending everything was fine.
it took weeks for him to swallow his pride and realize he didn’t want to deal with the emptiness anymore. the fight was so stupid and you were the love of his life, so why weren’t you together right now?
he wasn’t one to beg, but losing you was something he slowly realized he couldn’t bear. and so one evening after heavy contemplation, he found himself standing outside your apartment door, clutching his phone in one hand and a small bouquet of your favorite flowers in the other.
when you opened the door, you paused and your eyes widened in surprise. your treacherous heart missed a beat and you attempted to school your expression to normal. “minho? what are you doing here?”
“i, uh, i needed to see you,” he said, his usual cool demeanor replaced with a hesitance you rarely saw.
your mind flashed with the hurtful words he threw at you during the argument and you crossed your arms, leaning against the doorframe. “i thought we agreed that separating was for the best.”
“maybe i thought so at first,” he admitted, his voice soft but firm. “but i don’t think i can do this anymore. i can’t pretend that i’m okay being without you because i’m not.”
“minho…” you started, looking away as you didn’t know what to say.
“i know i don’t say it enough,” he interrupted, his gaze dropping to the ground. “but i love you. i loved you then, and i love you now. and i hate that i let you go without fighting for you. i hate that i was so stupid.”
“you hurt me,” you said, a slight wobble in your voice that you attempted to mask with by clearing your throat softly. but the hurt in your eyes was hard to miss. “i can’t just forget that.”
“i know,” he said, stepping closer. he put the flowers down on the floor by your feet as he took your hands in his, his palms warm. “and i don’t expect you to. but i want to make it up to you. i’ll do whatever it takes to earn your trust again. because i mean it when i say i won’t make the same mistakes again.”
he squeezed your palms softly, bringing your fingers up to his lips. “i know i’m not the best at showing how much you mean to me. but you do — more than anything. and if there’s even the smallest part of you that still feels the same way, please… give me another chance.”
it wasn’t easy for lee know to open up like this, but the thought of losing you for good outweighed his fear of vulnerability and hesitance. whether or not you decided to take him back, he was determined to show you just how much you meant to him.
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hyun ♢ jin
hyunjin wasn’t one to wear his heart on his sleeve, but the breakup managed to shatter the carefully built walls around his emotions. he threw himself into his art and practice, hoping it would drown out the ache in his chest. but no matter how many brushstrokes he painted or routines he perfected, nothing could fill the void you’d left behind.
while hoping to take a walk on evening , hyunjin mindlessly ended up walking into your favorite park, the place where you’d spent countless nights talking about dreams and fears. as usual, you were there sitting on the same bench you’d share, a book on your lap but your mind and gaze were elsewhere.
hyunjin stood there for a few moments, unable to look away until your wandering gaze settled on him. you paused, startled to see him there, his usually confident posture replaced by a tentative nervousness as he slowly walked to you.
“hyunjin?” you looked up at him, unsure if you should address him in public since your relationship was over. he was dressed in black, a mask covering the bottom half of his face, but you recognized him immediately.
he hesitated for aa moment before he sat down beside you, a small bittersweet smile tugging at his lips even though you couldn’t see it. “i wasn’t sure you’d be here,” he admitted.
“i didn’t know you’d be here either,” you replied cautiously, fidgeting with your book in your lap. would you have come if you knew? maybe, maybe not.
he took a deep breath, his gaze locking onto you even though you wouldn’t look back at him. “i just... i needed to see you. i can’t keep pretending i’m okay with this when i’m not.”
“hyunjin, we’ve already talked about this…”
“i know,” he interrupted, his voice heavy with emotion. “but i can’t let it end like this. i know i hurt you really bad, and i hate myself for it every day. i thought i was protecting you from this life and me, but all i did was push you away.”
your fingers softly tightened around the book, trying to calm yourself against the raw emotion in his voice. “it’s not that simple.”
“i know it’s not,” he said, scooting slightly closer. he couldn’t take his eyes off you. you were so pretty. “but i love you. i’ve always loved you, even when i was too scared to show it. and if there’s even a small part of you that still cares about me and what we had, then please… let me try to fix this.”
his voice broke as he added, “i’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if i have to. just… don’t give up on us. not yet.”
you finally looked up at him and your breath hitched at the proximity. the vulnerability in hyunjin’s eyes was almost too much for you to bear. he wasn’t just asking for forgiveness — he was offering every piece of himself, hoping it would be enough to convince you to give him one last chance. he wouldn’t lose you again.
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i.n ♢
jeongin had never experienced heartbreak like this before. the breakup ended up hitting him harder than he ever thought possible. he spent days replaying the fight you both had in his head, wondering how he could’ve done things differently. his hyungs tried their best to cheer him up, but their efforts only seemed to highlight the emptiness he felt without you.
you were his first relationship, his first kiss, his first love and the woman he thought he’d marry some day. he’d questioned his success as an idol, he’d question his talents — but the lifetime of your relationship was one thing he never had to question. so to have that one dream shattered was more than the average heartbreak. jeongin would probably never date again.
only nine days had passed since you left, and after those 200 hours, jeongin couldn’t take it anymore. he knew your schedule in and out, and he knew exactly where you’d be on a weekend evening at 5.
he showed up at your favorite café, the place where you’d spent countless afternoons together and took a seat at the very booth you’d always sit at, counting down the minutes to when you’ll show up.
so when you walked in and spotted him sitting at your usual table, his nervous smile and the familiar warmth in his eyes caught you off guard.
“jeongin?” you asked cautiously as you approached, looking around the almost empty area. “what are you doing here?”
he stood up quickly, his hands fidgeting as he spoke, wanting to reach out to you. “hi. i… i wasn’t sure if you’d come here today, but i had to take the chance.”
you hesitated, unsure of what to say. it had barely been over a week since your breakup. “what do you want?”
“i want to apologize,” he said earnestly, his voice quiet but steady. he had already made up his mind. “and to ask for another chance.”
“jeongin, we already talked about this,” you replied, shaking your head softly. the argument was still fresh in your mind and you didn’t plan to give in anytime soon. yet one look into his puppy-like eyes was all it took. damn.
“i know that,” he said quickly, his words tumbling out in a rush. “but i can’t just let it end the way it did. i know i hurt you, and i know i wasn’t the boyfriend you deserved, but i want to make it right. i need to make it right.”
you sighed, hesitantly sitting down across from him. “it’s not that easy.”
“i know it’s not,” jeongin said, his gaze earnest. he was not going to leave without you. “but i love you. and i’ll do whatever it takes to prove that to you. i’ve been thinking about everything i did wrong, and i promise, i’ll be better. just… don’t shut me out completely. you don’t have to take me back now, but know i’m not going to let this be the end of us.”
his voice softened as he added, “i know i’m asking for a lot, but please… let me show you how much you mean to me. even if it seems a little too late.”
you found yourself softening against your will. jeongin’s sincerity was palpable, and the quiet determination in his eyes made it clear that he wasn’t giving up on you. whether or not you decided to take him back, he was willing to do whatever it took to make amends.
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han ♢
han had always been known for his bright energy, and the way he could light up a room with his laughter. but ever since the breakup, his spark was gone and it became glaringly obvious. the jokes came less frequently, and the music he created sounded hollow, even to him. he missed you, missed the comfort of your presence and the way you always seemed to understand him when no one else could.
his group members had tried to give him the time and space he needed, since your relationship was long-term and impactful. you had been by han’s side since before stray kids, and the loss of your presence in his life was something all 7 of them combined couldn’t match up to.
the moment han decided he couldn’t stay away any longer, he abandoned the practice session and rushed straight to your place without even thinking it through. the journey was a blur and his body ran on instinct until he was standing outside your door.
his hands fidgeted with the hem of his hoodie as he rehearsed what he wanted to say for a few minutes before knocking once he was semi-confident of what to say and had plastered a small nervous smile on his lips.
when you opened the door, his smile faltered at the sight of you. “hey,” he said softly, his voice tinged with hesitance, looking over the sight of you in your pajamas.
“han? what are you doing here?” you paused in shock, not expecting his presence out of all things.
“i… i couldn’t stay away,” he admitted, his gaze dropping to the ground. he forgot what he planned to say. “i know i don’t have any right to be here after what happened and what i said, but i needed to talk to you.”
you looked over his sweaty and disheveled appearance as if he ran here, and crossed your arms, looking away. “we already talked, han. what’s left to say?”
“a lot,” he said quickly, his voice trembling slightly — from being out of breath, or from the prospect of losing you, he wasn’t sure. “i know i messed up real bad. i know i didn’t always handle things the way i should’ve, but i can’t —” he paused, swallowing hard. “i can’t lose you.”
you sighed, trying to keep your composure. you knew his words were true. “you realize that now? after all that was said and done?”
“i know what i said,” he said, stepping closer. “but i need you to know how sorry i am. i didn’t realize how much i was taking you for granted until you were gone. and now… now i feel like i’m missing a part of myself. you, and what we had, none of that can ever be replaced. you were the one, and i was so stupid for letting you go like that.”
“han…”
“i’m not asking you to forgive me right now,” he continued, his voice cracking. “but i just want one chance to show you that i can be better. please, just give me that chance. i won’t screw up again.”
his vulnerability was raw and unguarded, and the tears welling up in his eyes mirrored the ache in your chest. his presence only made you realize what you were missing. han wasn’t one to beg, but for you, he’d put his pride aside if it meant that he could win you back.
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seung ♢ min
seungmin prided himself on his ability to stay composed, but the breakup had shaken him to his core. he replayed your last conversation over and over, analyzing every word, every tone, trying to figure out where he’d gone wrong. the silence in his life without you was deafening, and no amount of logic could convince his heart to move on.
he knew he had no right to approach you or ask for forgiveness after his neglect, but damn was it hard to get past your absence in his daily life. meals, practice and sleeping alone felt void — like a puzzle piece was missing, leaving the actions feeling inadequate.
it took him a month to realize he couldn’t go on without you, weeks to decide how he was going to approach you, and another handful of days to work up the courage and find himself standing outside your door. his heart was pounding in his chest and his hands felt sweaty.
when you opened your front door, you were startled to see seungmin there, his usual calm demeanor replaced with an uncharacteristic hesitance and unease. “seungmin? what are you doing here?”
“i…” he hesitated, his eyes dropping to the floor as he suddenly felt a wave of unpreparedness. “i needed to talk to you.”
you were surprised but crossed your arms and kept your expression guarded, equally as hesitant. “we’ve already said everything that needed to be said. why now?”
“no,” he said firmly, meeting your gaze. a troubled look in his eyes. seungmin wasn’t sure if he felt like crying, or throwing up. “i didn’t say enough. i didn’t fight for you the way i should have, and i can’t let it end like this.”
“seungmin…” you frowned softly
“i know i made mistakes,” he interrupted, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “i know i wasn’t always there for you the way i should’ve been. but i love you. and i can’t just let you walk away without trying to make things right.”
you sighed, looking away. “it’s not that simple. you hurt me.”
“i know,” he said, his voice softening. “and i hate myself for it. but i want to make it up to you. i’ll do whatever it takes, no matter how long it takes. i just need you to give me a chance.”
when you didn’t respond immediately, he took a deep breath, his hands trembling slightly. “i’m not asking you to forget everything. i’m just asking for the chance to prove that i can be better—that i can be the person you deserve.”
the quiet determination in his voice was unlike anything you’d heard from him before. it was clear that seungmin wasn’t just asking for forgiveness—he was willing to fight for you, no matter how long it took.
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chang ♢ bin
changbin wasn’t used to feeling helpless, but after the breakup, he felt like his world had been turned upside down. he threw himself into his music, trying to channel his emotions into lyrics, but even that didn’t offer the relief he was hoping for. the studio felt empty without you. his group mates tried to cheer him up, but nothing could replace your touch, the sound of your laugh or the way you’d encourage him after a long day.
it didn’t take long before he realized he couldn’t let you go. your presence couldn’t be replaced by practice or writing, and every heart wrenching feeling being poured into his file of unreleased songs. it had reached a point where he had gotten tired of the separation and ended up impulsively making his way to your apartment one evening.
changbin’s heart was pounding as he worked up the courage to knock, freezing in surprise when you suddenly opened the door in that purple shirt of yours that you always wore to grocery shop. he stared at you quietly for a few moments, watching how your expression shifted from surprise to guardedness.
“changbin? what are you doing here?” you spoke softly, your gaze flickering around the hall to make sure no neighbor was out.
he hesitated, feeling extremely unprepared despite replaying the conversation in his mind the whole ride here, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “i just needed to see you,” he said, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it.
“bin, we’ve already talked about this,” you began the nickname slipping too easily, but he shook his head.
“no, i need you to listen,” he said, his voice firm but he had to clear his throat to stay composed. “i know i messed up. really bad. i know i didn’t always handle things the way i should’ve, but i can’t lose you. i don’t know how to be without you.”
you sighed, fidgeting slightly as you looked over his disheveled hair and troubled expression. he wouldn’t meet your eyes either. “it’s not that simple, changbin. you can’t just show up after what happened and expect everything to be okay.”
“i know that,” he said, his dark eyes pleading as he ran his palm over his face. he wasn’t one to beg but if he left this without knowing you were his again, he didn’t know what he’d do. “but i’m willing to do whatever it takes to fix this. i’ll change. i’ll be better. just tell me what you need, and i’ll make it happen.”
you looked away, trying to maintain your resolve, but his words slowly chipped away at your defenses. he was the best you’d ever had, until he wasn’t. “why now, changbin? why couldn’t you do this before and how am i supposed to believe you’ve changed?”
“because i was scared,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, looking up at you as he reached out to grasp your hands in his. “i was scared of failing you, or of not being enough. but i realized i’m more scared of losing you forever. i wouldn’t be able to bear that.”
his voice trembled and he nearly found himself in tears, leaning his forehead against yours. “please, give me another chance. let me prove that i can be the person you deserve.”
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notes: something about writing sad shit and horny shit really makes me tingle. anybody interested in an individual smut fic?
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easternflowerofthesun · 2 days ago
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           self-insert : indulgent
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BEST FRIEND ── MONA ︰ Mona and I met at our first year of High School (EU system). We clicked almost simultaneously, her dramatic personality paired well with my more down to earth one. She was absolutely in love with astrology and the zodiac signs, and we did many fun things with our horoscopes. She often gave me tarot cards readings! ( ↓ click more )
RIVAL ── CAPTAIN BEIDOU ︰ Beidou was the Captain of the Girls' Basketball Team. She was very popular and very well-liked amongst schools' population. In my opinion, the tales about her are all greatly exaggerated. We didn't get along back then, because she was always doing moon eyes at Lisa, my girlfriend, I always caught looking at her. She was infuriating 🙄 worst thing is, that she got along with everyone like a bundle of sunshine, so if I breathed a honest word about her I would have a army after my throat. She also had no respect for education, a subject I was quite cross with her a tremendous amount of times. She always brought beer to drink during breaks and burped right into my face afterwards to annoy the hell out of me. She wore leather bracelets to hide the prominent veins around her wrists which I found weird, she is weird. A tactless weirdo! I don't even know how she got a better grade at History and Mathematics' compared to me. And she should stay away from Lisa.
EX-GIRLFRIEND ── LISA ︰ Lisa and I knew each other since middle school. We got along like a house on fire, and I was absolutely delighted when she asked me out on a date. She always called me a cutie + darling when we spend time together in the library. It was for us both, our favourite place. Even though sometimes I couldn't handle her... vigour, I was more than grateful that she... taught me many things regarding... human nature. But like everything else in the world, good things must come to an end. After graduation, Lisa got accepted to the prestigious Sumeru Akademiya, while I was accepted to Liyue Dàxué. She broke up with me and after that... I fucked up.
ONE NIGHT STAND ── GANYU ︰ After Lisa broke up with me, I was left heartbroken for days. I couldn't go out of my room, I listened to sad music all the time, I could barely read my favourite books, and I love to read! I couldn't function properly, but my best friend Mona told me I needed to start moving on. She took me to a farewell party for high school graduates, and that was where I met Ganyu. She was the cutest, and the way she looked at me... how could I not kiss her? The wine must have gotten into my brain because next thing I knew, her godsend thighs were wrapped around my waist and I was kissing her against the wall, muffling all her addicting whimpers and quiet moans. I didn't know however, that Lisa was at the party —— which was stupid of me, we were classmates after all. I could never get over the heartbroken expression on her face as she took a step back, and then another, until she ran into the arms of... Jean?
"Was that your ex?" Ganyu whispered in my ear, and I glanced at her, seeing concern in her face. My eyes softened, rubbing her back reassuringly.
"Yeah..." I admitted quietly. "I'm sorry for this-" I was cut off by Ganyu silencing me with a long peck on my lips, and the gentleness of it surprised me, until I willingly melted in her embrace, letting her erase the thoughts of Lisa and Jean out of my mind.
UNREQUITED LOVE ── ROSARIA ︰ Months passed, and I started having a huge crush on the assistant of my religious professor, Rosaria. She was two years older than me, and I once caught her smoking at the Unis' backyard. She was very pretty... okay, she was very hot and I would have loved to see those stockings up close. I wouldn't dare though, not when she...
IGNORES YOU ── ROSARIA ︰ ... ignores the entirety of my existence. Even my good mornings go ignored by her. Mona wouldn't let me live it down!
FIGHT AGAINST ── KEQING ︰ Turns out, my crush on Rosaria was so obvious that she herself knew, and told her... girlfriend. Keqing was my senior, and before I knew it I was dragged forcefully into a storage closet. She pinned me against the wall, and glared at me with such irritation that I had to double take.
"Listen carefully," Keqing hissed, her voice low and poisonous against my ears. "You stay away from Rosaria. I don't care what excuse you may think you have, but if I see you so much as glance her way again, we are going to have multiple problems."
"Whoa, whoa! Hold on, what are you-" I panicked, is this girl crazy?!
"I, don't care how charming you think you are!" she spat, catching my wrists in a deathly grip. "I don't take kindly to people being homewreckers for fun."
I froze, my heart falling into pieces. "What?! No, what are you —— you... Rosaria... she's taken?" I rasped out, feeling a lump on my throat as the realisation started creeping in. Shit. Shit, shit, shit.
Keqing eyed me suspiciously. "You didn't know?"
I shook my head, no. My eyes suddenly felt watery, and I looked away from the purple beauty in front of me. I clenched my fists. Great, just my luck, no wonder she ignored me like that. I- shit, what have I done? "No... I didn't know. I would never..."
"Then let's not make this more of a bigger issue, it should remain this way, don't you agree?" Her sharp eyes pierced into mine, and I nodded. She didn't glance back once as she turned to leave, and I could only slid down to the floor once I was alone, wrapping my arms around my knees, trying for once again to get over heartbreak.
SAVES YOUR LIFE ── MONA ︰ Mona has saved my life more times than I could remember, than I could count on my two hands. I always had the tendency to get into trouble even when I don't want to. Mona said it's Capricorns' karma, I say it's because of my love for actual intelligent debates, and all inclinations to avoid misplaced childish confrontations.
MARRY ── CAPTAIN BEIDOU ︰ If you asked me I would tolerate being in the same room with Annoying Beidou 7 years ago, I would have called you crazy in front of everyone. But now after we started studying to become Historians together we... grew closer. It was infuriating at first, because she was so... happy all the type, a ball of energy, and always annoyed me in one way or another. Looking at her back then made me tired, it was laughable. It is even more laughable because now... now I'm married to her.
"I told you not to try to make dinner while drinking, Beidou!" I called, voice dripping with amusement.
Beidou's voice floated from the kitchen, her characteristic cheerfulness muffled thanks to the cacophony of clanging utensils. "I'm fine! I'm fine! I may just knocked over' a glass or two... or five."
I rolled my eyes, not bothering to respond as I went back to my reading. I sipped my hot chocolate quietly, savouring the sweet taste of my wifes' making.
A few minutes later, Beidou entered the living room with a shit-eating grin on her lips, her eye gleaming. I felt my stomach drop.
"I may or may not have overestimated my culinary skills! But! Wait!" She silenced me when she noticed me parting my mouth, to which I clicked shut in surrender. "I didn't burn anything this time!"
"Wow, such a big progress, I'm so proud of you," I drawled.
Beidou scowled, jumping over the furniture so she can crawl over me, snuggling into my lap without hesitation. "You're always so mean to me!"
My eyebrows rose, and I couldn't help but laugh. "Are you whining? Beidou, Captain of the Crux, whining over a little mean comment?"
She turned her head towards me, still in my lap. My hand went to the nape of her neck unconsciously, rubbing the no-doubt strained tendons. I completely ignored her heated glare upon my being, a small smirk gracing my lips.
"You hate me. I don't know why you even married me. Is it love or insanity? It must be insanity," she decided the answer herself.
I didn't hesitate. "Both, most likely to definitely."
She narrowed her eyes at me.
I grinned cheekily down at her.
"Bloody Brainiac," she muttered, snuggling further into my stomach and wrapping her arms around my waist in a hug.
"Annoying Sunshine," I muttered back, leaning down to kiss her cheek lovingly.
"My sunshine."
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Genshin Impact (waifu ver.) click and drag game!
warnings: flashing images
characters included: jean, mona, lisa, ningguang, beidou, ganyu, rosaria, la signora, keqing
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Game notes • How to Play
Please use a browser other than Google Chrome to play because the GIFs always lock onto their first frame on Chrome. Safari and Firefox work, please try those
If you're on mobile, screenshot the GIFs either as a set or individually
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hedgehog-moss · 11 hours ago
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Pls give recommendations for Odd books 🙏
Here we go, a list of literary oddity :) This post contains majestic spheres, alien taxonomies, cruel subway polytheism, a fourth-dimensional cat, disturbing earthworms, infinite space football, existential mussel terror, a Parisian absurdist time loop, and a picture of a telegraph-pole-man-cheetah. I'm not exactly recommending these books, in the sense that I won't take any complaints if you find them more odd than good, and some of them transcend the concepts of good and bad anyway.
• The Other City, Michal Ajvaz. It's all like this:
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• Contes du demi-sommeil, Marcel Béalu ('Half-asleep tales') —is the book that prompted my post about stories that have no ambition or justification beyond being odd. I'm sad that it hasn't been translated :( One of the tales is about a strange opaline sphere that rolls on the road. It doesn't accelerate when the road becomes a steep slope but continues rolling majestically. At one point it floats away towards the sky. Someone wonders if it was the moon. Someone else says authoritatively "It was an angel's egg." Everyone is reassured by this explanation. The whole thing feels exactly like remembering a dream you had. There is also a man who reads too much and whose body atrophies so only his head is left and his wife puts it in an egg cup for better stability.
• Leonora Carrington— The Skeleton's Holiday, or maybe the Hearing Trumpet. I've read them so long ago but I think the latter is the one with the old ladies and nuns? There's also a guy who was murdered in his bath by a still-life painter because he said there was a carrot in one of his paintings, but it might not have been a carrot? It's hard to remember details from this book without feeling like I might be making them up. Bonus Leonora Carrington painting which kind of feels like a short story:
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• The Codex Seraphinianus, of course. I wish there were more bizarre encyclopaedias out there.
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Also I love this review:
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• Sleep Has His House, Anna Kavan —I really liked the way this book used language; making life feel like a fever dream even more than in Samanta Schweblin's Fever Dream (which I really liked too.)
The eye is checking a record of silence, space; a nightmare, every horror of this world in its frigid and blank neutrality. The actual scope of its orbit depends on the individual concept of desolation, but approximate symbols are suggested in long roving perspectives of ocean, black swelled, in slow undulation, each whaleback swell plated in armour-hard brilliance with the moonlight clanking along it . . .
• The second half of Michael Ende's Neverending Story, where things get stranger! I remember the hand-shaped castle with eyes and the city of amnesiac former emperors and the miserable ugly worms who cry all the time out of shame then create beautiful architecture with their tears...
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• The Gray House, Mariam Petrosyan. This is the one I had in mind when I talked about a 'museum of the strange, but one you wouldn't want to be trapped in after closing time'. Another book that made me feel uncomfortable in a similar (good) way was Edward Carey's Observatory Mansions, the protagonist of which is a man who curates an odd private museum and can't stand the sight of his own hands.
• Oh, speaking of uncomfortable, and hands—He Digs A Hole, by Danger Slater. To me this book was in the more-odd-than-good category but I liked its refusal to have a coherent philosophical meaning. It's about a man who can't sleep so he goes to his garden shed and saws off his hands and replaces them with gardening tools. Then he starts digging a hole. And then it gets weird. (Read at your own discretion if you have a worm phobia; there's some body horror featuring sexually aggressive earthworms. And then it gets disturbing.)
• 17776 — Someone sent me an ask a few years back to recommend this online multimedia narrative to me and I really enjoyed it! Here's the summary, borrowed from the wiki page: Set in the distant future in which all humans have become immortal and infertile, the series follows three sapient space probes that watch humanity play an evolved form of American football in which games can be played for millennia over distances of thousands of miles. The work explores themes of consciousness, hope, despair, and why humans play sports.
• Saint-Glinglin, Raymond Queneau —the author admitted that this book presents some "internal discontinuities." I didn't like it much but I respect the talent it takes to write a novel where everything feels like a random digression, including the key suspenseful scene that matters to the plot. The one digression I loved had to do with the way the narrator is existentially horrified by various sea creatures. It's like he dreads them so much he can't help but think about them when he should be telling a story.
The oyster... This gob of phlegm, this brutal way of refusing the outside world, this absolute isolation, and this disease: the pearl... If I conceptualise them even a little, my terror starts anew. The mussel is even more significant than the oyster and even more immediately admissible in the domain of terror. Let us indeed consider that this little sticky mass whose collective stupidity haunts our piers, consider that it is alive in the same way as a cow. Because there are no degrees in life. There is no more or less. The whole of life is present in every animal. To think that the mussel, that the mussel has, not a conscience, but a certain way of transcending itself: here I am once again plunged into abysses of anxiety and insecurity.
Near the beginning he philosophises about what would happen if a man and a lobster were the only two survivors of the apocalypse. The lobster would break the man's toe and the man would say, "We are the only beings that remain on this devastated Earth, lobster! The only living beings in the universe, struggling alone against the universal disaster, don't you want to be allies?" But the lobster would disdainfully walk away towards the ocean, and "the sight of the inflexible and imperturbable lobster pierces the sky of humanity with its unintelligible claws." (I can't overstate how little this has to do with the rest of the book.)
• Autumn in Beijing, Boris Vian —needless to say the story does not take place in autumn nor in Beijing.* To the extent that it can be said to be "about" something, it's about people trying to build a train station in a desert with tracks that lead nowhere. (I just went on goodreads to check the title, and it's actually called Autumn in Peking in English. I also discovered that it was featured in a list of Books I Regret Reading. I liked this book, but I understand.)
(* French writers love doing this—like when Alphonse Allais said about his 1893 book The Squadron's Umbrella "I chose this title because there aren't any umbrellas of any sort in this volume, and the important notion of the squadron, as a unit of the armed forces, is never brought up at all; in these conditions, hesitating would have been pure madness.")
• The Library at Mount Char, Scott Hawkins—I fear this one makes a little too much sense for this list, but you can't say it isn't weird; and I loved it and recommend it any chance I get.
• The Eleven Million Mile High Dancer, Carol Hill —this book was so wacky and made me laugh. I've not yet managed to successfully recommend it to someone; its brand of odd didn't resonate with the people I know who've read it but that's okay. You could say it's about a woman astronaut whose weird cat disappears into the fourth dimension (or the quantum realm?) and she goes to space to save him—but that makes the book sound more straightforward and less messy than it is. Her cat leaves her a note before he disappears:
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• The Bald Soprano, Ionesco —fun fact, there's a tiny theatre in the Latin Quarter in Paris where this absurdist play has been staged every night for nearly 70 years, with the exact same set design and costumes and everything, like the actors are stuck in a time loop. They celebrated the 20,000th performance this year! There's an actress who has been playing her character for 40 years and said joining this theatre was like joining a religion. I've been going to see this play as a New Year tradition with my best friend since we were 14, so I love it madly, though I wouldn't say it's good, necessarily—the author said it was about "absolutely nothing, but a superior nothing."
• Statuary Gardens; or Les Mers perdues (apparently not translated) by Jacques Abeille. This man is obsessed with weird statues. Unfortunately I find his writing style rather dull—I feel like he takes strange ideas and makes them feel mundane in a bad way...! But his books still have a nice, quiet, oneiric atmosphere, and images that stayed with me, like a solitary gardener trying to grow stone statues in the depleted soil of a walled garden. Here are some illustrations from the second one:
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I'll look into some of the books recommended on my previous post! (and I agree with the people who brought up Cortázar, Borges, and Junji Ito. <3) Some potentially-odd books I have on my to-read list: Clive Barker's Abarat, Goran Petrović's An Atlas Traced by the Sky, Salvador Plascencia's The People of Paper, Jean Ray's Malpertuis; Jan Weiss's The House of a Thousand Floors; Brice Tarvel's Pierre-Fendre.
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infevious · 2 days ago
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WISH YOU WERE SOBER
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sum: confessing to him when you’re drunk
pairing: kinich x gn reader
contains: drunken confession, slight mention of his backstory
a/n: i was listening to “wish you were sober” by Conan Gray and thought of this, this is my first fic so uhhhh enjoy 😀😊⁉️ i have not written a fanfic since middle school and im high asf rn so it might be bad LOL might be ooc
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This party's shit
Kinich sat around while everyone else was celebrating, he saw how you drank bottle after bottle. It hurt to see someone he cared about so deeply drink, it reminded him of his father, who he hated. But he couldn’t hate you, even if he tried.
wish we could dip, go anywhere but here
After a while you sat next to him, he didn’t want to come; he came for you. You excitedly asked if he was going to the celebration your tribe was having, he only agreed because he knew you would be there.
Don't take a hit, don't kiss my lips
You were awfully clingy when drunk, an equally drunk mualani had to pry you off her. You did the same to him; trying to hug him.
“I love you so much thank you for being my friend!” you cried
friend.
That’s all he was to you, just a friend.
And please don't drink more beer
He took the bottle away from you, he didn’t want you to be sick in the morning. He rolled his eyes as you reached for it, whining.
“Just a little bit~ Come on! It- it won’t hurt..!”
“You drank enough for tonight”
But this is definitely not my crowd
He didn’t really talk to anyone from your tribe besides you and (whoever else is in your tribe that has interacted with him), but he made an effort to come. He poured what was left of the liquor onto the floor and left the bottle on the crate he was sitting.
Take me where the music ain't too loud
Even though you were drunk you could tell he wasn’t comfortable.
“I want to take a walk”
“A walk? Right now? You’re not in a state to even speak properly, much less walk.”
“…Can you take me home?..I’m tired”
He watched as you said goodbye to your friends but couldn’t help but feel jealous. The way you hugged everyone so tightly, you never hugged him like that. When you would they would be quick, barely holding him, or maybe even just a side hug.
Trip down the road, walking you home
“Let’s go trouble magnet”
He put an arm around your waist holding you up so you wouldn’t fall, you could barely walk and he was annoyed, sad even.
“The stars are so pretty”
“It’s really hot..”
“Woah look at the moon!”
He was getting tired of your endless sentences. He couldn’t understand how you could be such a heavy drinker. Was it a coping skill? He went through a lot and never thought about picking up a bottle. Did you enjoy the feeling? He wouldn’t know, he always swore to never try it. He didn’t want to end up like him.
Pullin' me close, beg me, "Stay over"
“Can you spend the night? P-please?”
He looked down at your drunken state, eyes half lidded, cheeks red; you looked so beautiful. He was always confused on how you were never like his father when drunk, you were always smiling, laughing, dancing, the complete opposite of him.
But I'm over this roller-coaster
He listened to you talk about whatever popped up into your mind, he turned to look at you after you’ve been quiet for some time. You were just looking at him, his lips.
“This- this is a dream right..?”
He looked at you confused, dream? Where did that come from?
“Sure, yeah this is a dream”
He didn’t think anything of it, were you going to tell him an embarrassing memory? A secret no one else was supposed to know? Or- no. You would never..
He looked at you, the moon light making you look almost angelic. He noticed you looking at his lips and then his eyes.
“If this is a dream then i can…”
Time felt like it stopped.
Did you just- kiss him?
You pulled away, whispering an ‘I really like you’ before passing out almost immediately. He just sat there, a million thoughts rushing through his head. What the hell just happened? He looked down at you and noticed a small smile.
Real sweet, but I wish you were sober
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callipraxia · 6 hours ago
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Lots of interesting stuff here; the one point, aside from how I love the phrase “ship of Theseus-ing himself,” I can comment on…somewhat succinctly is the “learning that maybe it’s just better if he shuts himself off from the world so nobody has a chance to hurt him.” I think it partially was as a self-defense measure…but also partially due to his shift toward “mission-oriented” behavior.
We know Stan is a social creature. He craves connection. Not all that long before he went to Gravity Falls, we saw him trying to befriend his cellmates in a Colombian prison. It’s also well-established that he likes women and has had (tumultuous) relationships with them in the past, but by the time the Lazy Susan B-Plot happens in s1, he’s clearly been out of the game for a while. We see no evidence, in fact, that he ever had any relationships in GF in thirty years of living there…because how could he? He couldn’t tell a love interest who he was or what he was doing with his free time, because if that relationship didn’t work out, that person would have epic blackmail material. And if he had a love interest and let her continue to believe he was Stanford Pines, well, that was going to get awkward when he definitely rescued the real one any day now, wasn’t it? So, between needing to lie about who he was and the simple fact that dating would take up time which could otherwise be spent on his mission, having even a girlfriend, never mind a wife, would have been tantamount to giving up, which is…not an option in his world usually, because the “stubborn” bit stuck no matter what else about him changed. Having friends would also introduce the same problems, to a probably lesser extent. So, therefore, there was nothing to do but shut himself off from the world, which became a self-reinforcing habit that progressively made him more and more cynical and bitter about his position in life as everyone learned he was emotionally isolated from other people and therefore not someone they liked or trusted….
Aaah, this reminds me of a fic I never wrote. We know a little about Carla McCorkle and Marilyn, but the rhyme at the end of “Roadside Attraction” also mentions a “Beatrice” who “slapped him for being a cad.” We never hear anything else about Beatrice, which made her fair game, so a plot idea I had involved Stan - since this was early into his career, before he had fully shifted the public idea of Stanford Pines away from “the science guy in the woods” - more or less accidentally getting recruited to help judge the science fair, despite how he knew relatively little science at that time and also really, really hates science fairs in particular. Cue light romantic comedy with a Beatrice also associated with this event during the lead-up to it/his efforts to sabotage it so it doesn’t ever happen…which then, of course, naturally all has a bad ending when he realizes that oh, yeah, right…his life is fake and he has a top-secret, all-important mission in his basement, time to deliberately behave badly until Beatrice breaks up with him and the ending is discordantly sad and angsty. Never wrote it because I could never figure out how to write and pace the romantic comedy bits, though.
Something I think about so much is just how different the Stanley Pines we see in ATOTS is from the Grunkle Stan we know in the rest of the show.
Like, have you ever noticed just how much more expressive Stan is in 1983? The guy wears his heart on his sleeve so much more than he does later on. At almost every moment you can tell exactly what he's thinking and feeling just from his face, something that will become a lot rarer for him. Even setting aside the portal incident scene itself, have y'all ever watched the Dusk 2 Dawn scene and just watched Stan's face? He looks so… openly sad.
It's not just his expressions. Here's a detail that only just occurred to me: you guys ever think it's weird that Stan doesn't just try to steal the bread from Dusk 2 Dawn? Like, you'd think his stealing habit would've originated from his years on the street stealing to survive, but no— he tries to pay for the bread, and then when he doesn't have any money, he figures out how to get some. It's surprisingly honest.
And just like… I don't know, his whole vibe is so different. He's come from this life of hardship completely willing to talk things through. He's emotional, he's open, and not exactly what you'd expect to see when you imagine what a younger Grunkle Stan might have been like. In fact, his vibe is so different that, in Journal 3, Ford writes that when he first saw Stan, he assumed he was just in another alternate dimension rather than the one he came from.
Anyway, it just makes me think about the transition of how, exactly, he went from one to the other. How we go from the "stubborn, frostbitten vagabond" to the "carnival barker" he is by the show's present. I think about that in-between Stan a lot. Realizing that the hole in his heart, the one he thought was caused by his circumstance for so long, hadn't disappeared even now that he had money and a steady place to live. Growing more bitter and grumpy by the day, learning that maybe it's just better if he shuts himself off from the world so nobody has a chance to hurt him. Seeing himself aging and finding himself no closer to saving Ford. Ship of Theseus-ing himself into the carefully curated asshole that maybe even he thinks he is.
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jayhyunglover · 2 days ago
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Send my love to your next lover
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Zayne x non mc! Reader (reader is Zayne's wife )
Synopsis: you've been married to Zayne since 2 years now but you knew you weren't the one he longed for . You weren't her and you will never be.
Zayne's hand tapped restlessly against the steering wheel , eyes flickering from time to time to the bouquet of spider lilies on his passenger seat . They were your favorite when he asked why you said it was because they symbolized Goodbye and that you always end up saying Goodbye to the things you loved the most.
He really hoped this would pull out a smile from you at least . You've been distant those days , argument after arguments piled up combined with his busy schedule who didn't make things easier but he promised himself he'd make it up to you. Tonight at last.
When he finally pulled in your shared house hallway he hastily got out the car , grabbing the bouquet of flowers to make his way inside but strangely every lights were off.
Haven't you came back from work already? His eyebrows furrowed in confusion
Opening the front door he called out for your ne but no response came. He was starting to get worried, searching frantically through the house but there were no trace of you anywhere.
No this couldn't be . You couldn't have left him. You would never right?
But as he stood in the painfully empty house even him was starting to doubt his own words.
Losing hope he plopped himself down on the couch, running a nervous hand through his hair when the corner of his caught a faint glow
Your wedding ring.
Zayne abruptly picked it up on the coffee table . It was resting against a pile of papers.
What the hell are those ? He fiddled with the papers. Eyes scanning over them
No no no this couldn't be.
Opening the letter his eyes bulged out of his sockets ,heart dropping in his stomach.
"I am giving you up."
No hubby , no my lil snowman no nothing straight to the point
"You weren't mine in the first place, even if I was the one you wake up with every morning,  your heart belongs to her . Even if I was the one you spent time with , your heart longed for her.
I am not sad , do not worry . I knew what I signed up for .
Be happy Dr Zayne with your Jasmine,  your love and I'll be happy with my freedom. Even if my heart will always belong to you at least now I won't have to look at you and wish I was someone else.
I am giving you up and forgive it all. So please set me free.
Goodbye Dr Zayne, be happy and send my love to your next lover ."
                      Your dear (ex) wife.
Zayne felt the bile rising up his throat.
This has to be a joke , some prank. You'd never leave like that , not after all this time. You made vows , he vowed to keep you safe , protect you , love you. He couldn't send your love to his next lover because there wouldn't be any.
You were always the one , even when he makes you feel like you weren't. He always knew deep down.
He didn't even realize at first he was crying just small droplets falling on the paper blurring his vision.
True you will never be his Jasmine because you were so much more, his wife , his love. Sure you weren't his first but you will always be his last , there won't be any next lover to send your love to.
Tag list: @mangooes @jinwoosbabyboo
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A/N: I am procrastinating so much on his Snow White fic that I had to post something to make up for it.
Also I couldn't stop listening to Send my love by Adele and Zayne angst is my favorite snack soooooo. (Eat up y'all)
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taegularities · 2 days ago
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colour me in: photograph (teaser) | jjk (m)
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Summary: With both your and Jungkook's careers seemingly peaking, the future feels promising and bright. Yet, amidst the glowing hope, one single phone call dims the light in the rooms of your shared home.
➳ pairing: Jungkook x reader ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ genre: fwb/f2l, fake dating; angst, fluff, smut ➳ warnings: [redacted spoiler that shall drop with the chapter], tears, sadness/grief, doubts, tender moments, talk of jk's future and his art, support, jk's dad, surprises, (talk of) a break up oop, mention of children (i guess that's a warning lol), explicit sexual content: let-out-some-steam-sex, dom!jk, big dick!jk, he's actually insane. more details shall be added on drop day; the ending.. <3 ➳ word count: around 760 for the teaser; 25-30k for the chapter ➳ a/n: get ready, it's gonna hurt for a whiiile now :') as always, come n talk to me about this 🤍 ➳ listen to: holo by leehi | full collaborative playlist 🤍
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SERIES MASTERPOST | TAGLIST MASTERLIST | WIPs
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“You do know that we’re supposed to meet up with them in like,” you drop your eyes to your wrist, pulling back the sweater to unveil your watch, “forty minutes, right?”
“And you think they’ll complain about some extra time alone?”
You deliver a blank stare, not a single blink as you watch him shrug a shoulder. He sports a smirk that you would’ve clenched your jaw to months ago, but today, even if you won’t admit it right this second, it amuses you.
He laughs when you stand there unmoving, like a stick figure silently reprimanding a lethargic boyfriend. You hate to break, but when the contagious chuckle infects you, too, you feel a light wave of relief and serotonin ripple through you violently.
Jungkook hasn’t left vacation mode just yet; while the work for the gallery is still ongoing and he diligent, you catch him slouching ever so often, doodling away at times. You’ll confess, the grey outside is tiring; different from the sunnier countryside you left behind.
There’s a sort of post-bliss blues that even you can hardly shake off.
“You can’t deny that, can you?” he utters amidst his melodious laugh, and you roll your eyes, taking two big steps towards him — much like two days ago.
“I don’t have to deny it to still teach you the importance of punctuality, right? Get up,” you say, smacking his hip — and he uses the opportunity to lift his arm from under his head, reaching for you, but… failing. “Uh-uh. Enough with your tricks. Get up.”
Last night still wasn’t enough — is it ever? You’re not surprised; neither by his thirst nor by your own inner, involuntary reactions. But no time. It’s rude to let people wait.
And you know exactly what Jimin would say — tease — if the two of you arrived at the double lunch date with him and Yoongi too late again.
Jungkook’s voice turns half into a yawn, half into a sigh, tired when he responds, “Yes, ma’am.”
This should do.
But since everything good comes in three, and just for good measure, you add another laser-glance, shooting at him in warning to lift his ass and meet you ready once you are, too. A playfully sigh breathed, you amble to the bathroom, make up awaiting on the sink from when you put it there this morning.
This shouldn’t take long; you’re opting for the minimalistic approach today.
As the hues colour your lips and fill your lashes, you hum a random melody you can’t quite identify. It’s quiet in the apartment until it isn’t — and when Jungkook’s voice chimes, your hand halts mid-mascara-stroke, assuming he’s calling for you.
He’s not; you understand this much when he greets the person on the other end in his liveliest tone at first, volume decreasing as the conversation continues. He’s soon hushed enough for you to not really make out proper words anymore. Hums here and there — Jungkook doesn’t seem to say much at all.
Perhaps it’s Yoongi, or Tae, telling a story. Narrating recent occurrences, the joys and pains that emerged and shrivelled on the vacation that you weren’t part of anymore.
You don’t ask just yet, decide not to disturb.
You finish up whatever is left of your routine, setting the make up and ruffling through your hair, adding volume. When the talk he’s indulging in still remains when you deem yourself ready, you let out a breather and step back into the bedroom.
Still in the same clothes and with the untamed hair as his crown, Jungkook’s gaze is lowered, fingers barely curled into the sheets. He’s sat up now; you see his Adam’s apple bob when you walk in. Instinctively and immediately, you blurt, “Now what did I tell you just a moment ago—”
But the jest dries in your throat and then fades, as dead as Jungkook’s eyes when he looks up at you. Or maybe… maybe they’re not dead.
More so — in disbelief. As if he hasn’t really fathomed what he’s just heard, mind sprinting in circles, attempting to understand.
His chest isn’t moving as it should, and just in general, his body emits inner trouble. Distress. When he lifts his pupils and shifts them towards you, it looks as if he’s hoping that your presence could reverse reality, as if you’re pulling him out of the inevitable quicksand.
But you can’t. You get it; see it right away.
Because the watery gaze and the gap between his lips, this expression, are new to you, no matter how many of his aches you’ve mended. And you guess it has something to do with what his conversation partner just said.
Something that certainly wasn’t part of today’s agenda at all.
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the way i even had to change the banner bc it'd be such a spoiler lmaoooo but yeah anyways, what do we think? y'all's thought always help immensely, and life has been so busy that writing took a backseat – getting back into it is hard. but you guys offer so many theories as well as love and always motivate me, so come and let's talk <3
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dollishmehrayan · 2 days ago
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# CHRISTMAS TREE DECORATING AND CHAOS ── .✦ ( decorating trees with batboys ‘separated’! ⋆౨ৎ
a/n: I literally feel so happy genuinely now, I guess my mental health is getting better && anyways i have 64 requests to get to… i truly need to speed run through these but some I can’t do sadly 😭 so sorryy ᥫ᭡, tags: (batboys x fem!reader)
© dollishmehrayan — ( all rights reserved to me. These works cannot be reposted, translated, or modified. Thank you for understanding dollies! )
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DICK GRAYSON ── .✦
The king of enthusiasm: As soon as you suggest decorating the tree together, he’s all in.
“We’re going for the most extra tree Gotham has ever seen!” He wants it tall enough to touch the ceiling and glittery enough to blind someone.
He’s the guy who insists on climbing to the very top to put on the star, even though he wobbles dangerously on the ladder.
Sings Christmas songs (terribly off-key he’s also like tone deaf and beat deaf it’s a curse to hear him sing something at karaoke) while you decorate, complete with dramatic twirls and spins around the tree.
Accidentally tangles himself in the lights at least twice. “I’m fine, I’m fine! I was just… testing the durability!”
Insists on taking a million photos of you with the finished tree, calling you his “Christmas angel.”
When it’s all done, he dims the lights, wraps an arm around you, and whispers, “This might be my favorite Christmas ever.”
JASON TODD ── .✦
He pretends to be indifferent. “Decorating a tree? Sounds boring.” But the second you start, he’s invested.
He’s surprisingly good at untangling lights and getting them perfectly spaced on the tree. “What? I’ve got steady hands.”
Jason leans into more minimalistic decor deep reds, dark greens, and gold accents but he lets you take the lead. “You want glittery ornaments? Fine. But I draw the line at tinsel.” (he’s like those sad beige moms but with like dark traditional Christmas colors…)
Complains about how prickly the tree is the entire time but still helps you string popcorn garlands because he knows it makes you happy.
TIM DRAKE ── .✦
He’s excited about decorating but is terrible at it. Tim tries, but he’s way better at figuring out the tech side of things (like synchronized tree lights) than actually hanging ornaments.
Spends 20 minutes untangling lights and another 20 trying to figure out why one strand isn’t working. “It’s science! There’s a method to this madness.”
He’s the type to sneak a caffeine break halfway through while you keep decorating. “What? I need fuel to focus!”
Insists on hanging some nerdy ornaments—little Batman logos, Star Wars-themed ones, or even a tiny Robin figurine.
When you get frustrated with his lack of artistic flair, he pulls you close and says, “Hey, at least I’m good company, right?”
After it’s all done, he insists on dimming the lights and turning on the synchronized tree music. “Look at that. A masterpiece.”
DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦
Initially acts like it’s beneath him. “Why would I waste time decorating a tree?” But he ends up being surprisingly good at it.
Damian has an eye for symmetry, so every ornament has to be perfectly spaced. “No, that one is too close to the red one. Move it.”
If you mention that decorating the tree is a nostalgic tradition for you, he softens immediately. “Fine. But this had better be worth it.”
He refuses to wear a Christmas sweater, but you catch him smiling when you put on a ridiculous reindeer headband.
Titus gets involved, carrying around ornaments and wagging his tail, which Damian pretends to be annoyed by but secretly loves.
When the tree is finished, he stands back with his arms crossed, pretending not to care. But when you beam at him, he quietly says, “It looks… nice. I suppose this wasn’t a complete waste of time.”
BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦
(He buys like 40 ft Christmas trees for the main ball in the manor and like that’s almost impossible to decorate without professionals)
The ultimate perfectionist. He has a very clear vision for the tree, but he tries to let you take the lead. “It’s your tradition. I’ll follow your lead… mostly.”
Insists on using the tallest tree that will fit in Wayne Manor and hires a team to bring it in.
He’s all about elegant, classic decorations white lights, glass ornaments, and a tasteful tree topper. But if you want colorful lights or quirky ornaments, he’ll indulge you.
Offers to lift you up to reach the highest branches instead of letting you use a ladder. “I don’t need you breaking your neck before the gala.”
Alfred brings hot cocoa and cookies halfway through, smiling at how relaxed Bruce looks around you.
When the tree is done, he turns to you and says, “It’s perfect. Just like this moment.” Then he pulls you into a rare, heartfelt kiss under the twinkling lights.
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cringefortress2 · 2 days ago
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Finished reading the comics
Gonna cry so hard tonight you can't even imagine
I love everything about how it's done, knowing how little resourses they had. Gonna leave some spoiler thoughts ahead
(old artwork just to make this post a bit more presentable)
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Sad that demo literally got no screen time, but I'm happy that he'll be living his best life. Love that he's still living with his ma and eyelander. Love those little details with him and sniper hanging out together, seems like they got a bit closer wich is cool even in a friendly way. But i still feel kina robbed (not blaming this on the creators of the comics though. they really did a great job not only finishing the "big plot", but also managing to at least a bit show us the future of all the characters)
Love the way scout turned out. I always hated him as a person, but now he's kinda..grown? He now takes responsibilities and learns that world doesn't spin around him. And it breaks my heart to realise he only has like about 8 years left to spend with his family until the "scout's death date".
Love how spy, that always seemed the most emotionally "grown-up" still finds a lesson to learn and to change for the loved ones. I love how they showed us his face and not pyro's. Spy hiding his face is a portrayel of him not really trusting people around. So seing him without his mask shows that maybe slowly, but he manages to start opening to the people that he cares about. And hopefully one day he'll finally be able to say out loud that he's scout's father. But it can easily stay off screen
Love Merasmus. I always loved his goofy interactions with soldier and mercs. It always was obvious he'll be trolled for the rest of his life. But I really love that he had at least some time to gain self-esteen, other's respect. And love that at the end he can stay with at least somebody (talking about his roommate Tom Jones, but also soldier I guess). It's silly. And I just love that not everyone has to survive for a happy ending. That's the TF2 vibe in general
And of course I really love Zhanna and Soldier arc. Love them so much and so happy that they got the screen time they deserved. Don't know how to express it, just seeing their emotions, love they show to each other, their kids. Not a big fan of the "And then they married and had kids" trope, but here it feels so sincere. They stayed chaotic and stupid. Love it
Oh, and also Saxton and Maggie's final scene... I love it. Can't put it into words in English since it's already pretty hard for me to translate most of my ideas, so here i'll just leave it be
ALSO I love a lot of things and details about the main plot, but I'm afraid it'll take me a bit too much time to wright all my thoughts about it so to make things short:
I love how they managed to portrait the "eye for an eye" and pointless revenge in here. Through the covers of the chapter. through emotions, moments, the whole concept
Love the fact that mercs are literally the loosers of a big company that didn't even get payed enought without even knowing it. They veren't supposed to play an important role. Yet they did. Just like the game itself did in real life. I love it.
And also of course huge thanks for the artists. This comics was one of the most detailed ones. Huge, a lot of pages, great colors. Maybe it's hard to get used to the new style (especially since some of the characters are reeeaally different from the previous chapters), but i'm glad to see it and see how much time and effort was put in it.
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joeyfranchise · 13 hours ago
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𝟙𝟚 𝕕𝕒𝕪𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕗𝕚𝕔-𝕞𝕒𝕤: 𝕕𝕒𝕪 𝕥𝕖𝕟
last christmas, i gave you my heart
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ex!joe x fem!reader
note: (& kinda summary) SURPRISE! i said cindy lou didn’t have a part two but…. how could i spoil it for you? here’s what happened after the instagram dm, from joe’s perspective.
word count: 1.3k.
warnings: more sadness, hurt feelings, joe isn’t really an ass but he has poor decision making skills… etc. this fic is sfw but minors please do not interact with my page.
song inspo: cindy lou who by sabrina carpenter and lips of an angel by hinder.
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joe didn’t really care about likes or comments on instagram.
he didn’t care to post too much either, regardless of what it was, because he preferred staying private and in his own lane. sure, he posted brand deals on there, the occasional game day fit or victory post, but he wasn’t one to flaunt a relationship around… not until today.
the christmas eve festivities were in full swing, and joe and his new girlfriend, along with his parents, were spending the evening together. they’d been to dinner, stopped by a few local places and eventually ended up at a rec center to watch a local christmas play.
when it was over they decided to take photos out in the hall, where the archway was decorated to the nines and the lighting was absolutely perfect for those warm, christmas-y shots.
joe and his girlfriend posed together alone, and then with his parents, and then they each took photos alone. once the photos were sent to him, he vetted through them carefully, selecting which ones he should post.
in his mind, he knew what he was doing was wrong… but in his heart, he wanted to know if you still cared. he wondered what you were up to this christmas. he assumed home with your family, maybe out with your sister. that’s something he knew you’d missed doing since you’d spent the last few christmases with him. he hoped you were able to go with her, that your holiday still felt special.
it didn’t. he didn’t know you didn’t go home to your family, that you were sat on your couch ready to drown in your wine glass and cry over a heart-breaking christmas movie. he didn’t know you were all alone there with him on your mind.
but in a sick, sick way… he also hoped that you were thinking of him, too.
joe posted the photos to his instagram with no caption, but he made sure to tag his girl. he slid his phone into his back pocket before joining back in the conversation she was having with his parents. his mind lingered on you.
joe wasn’t a cheater - nor would he ever be. he really enjoyed having his new girl around, and he didn’t know if he was in love yet, but he knew she felt like she could be right for him.
he sat with his thoughts for another hour before he checked his phone again. in the time since he posted the photos he laughed and talked with his company, holding his girlfriend’s hand and smoothing his thumb over her palm soothingly.
when he slid his phone from his back pocket and opened instagram, he had a multitude of notifications. family, fans friends.
but he looked at the likes anyway. it was wrong of him, toxic of him to hope you’d seen it… but you had. and you liked it. his chest began to feel tight.
why did he do that to you?
when you and joe broke up, it was all him. he knew it, you knew it. you were still completely in love with him. it made him physically sick to think about.
joe’s issue was… he still loved you too.
around the time of your break-up, things were incredibly tense. he was injured, he was in the roughest mental place he’d ever been in, and despite your valiant efforts to help him work through it, all he ever did was push you away. he continued to treat you poorly out of anger, and out of love you stuck by him.
he should have thanked you for that.
joe didn’t think he was falling out of love with you per se, but he wanted a break. he wanted space to find himself again, and though it completely broke you, you agreed. you would never force yourself into his life, not if he didn’t want you there.
he knew you thought you were the problem, and no matter how much he tried to explain you weren’t, you didn’t listen. he knew his actions weren’t conveying that he loved you, and that’s what forced the wedge between you… so when you split, there was never a reconciliation.
joe never reached out to you because he was afraid you’d reject him after all the pain he put you through. you didn’t reach out to him because you were convinced he was done with you, that he didn’t love you anymore.
when he met his new girl he was in a better place, and she was sweet. she was kind, beautiful, she had a heart of gold. she took his breath away, he hadn’t felt that in a while.
they started seeing each other casually before diving in head first, and he knew she loved him. he was getting there. but he still needed to let you go. the air in the room was getting hot, and although it felt like he’d been on his phone for an eternity, it was just a few minutes.
the hallway was full now, people who were in the play and family friends gathered around. his parents were chatting with the neighbors, his girlfriend was talking to one of the stars of the play. he looked around his periphery to make sure nobody could see him click your profile, and quickly he tapped your message button and typed something out.
joeyb_9: merry christmas, y/n.
he pressed send. his heart was hammering against his chest. his parents and his girl didn’t seem to notice. he didn’t expect you to answer so quickly. his breathing felt shaky as he saw you typing.
y/n: merry christmas, joe. i’m so happy for you.
the room began to spin. joe was getting hot. why why why. why did he do this?
he made a quick impulsive decision, against his better judgement. the voice in his head told him to stop, don’t do this. but his heart had to know. he excused himself quickly, claiming he had to make a work call.
he stepped outside of the rec center, the cool december air felt hot on his newly flushed skin. he closed the instagram app, clicking on the phone app and dialing your number. ring ring ring.
you answered.
“um… joe?” you asked. your voice sounded groggy, like you’d just fallen asleep.
“fuck. i’m sorry. i don’t know why i called.” he admitted. he ran his hand over his face.
“are you— is everything okay?”
“it’s fine. i’m… fuck. i’m sorry. i hope you’re having a good holiday. i guess it just feels weird not to be with you.” he doesn’t know why he’s telling you this. in the building behind him, his girlfriend is laughing with his parents. she’s having a lovely holiday. and joe’s outside, on the phone with his ex.
“it is weird. but it seemed like you were having a good night based on your post. go back to whatever you were doing, please. i can’t do this.” he heard your voice crack. he imagined your face. he knew your hand was probably clamped over your mouth, he heard you start to cry.
“fuck, y/n. i’m so sorry.” he says. he feels like he’s going to cry too.
“don’t be upset for me, joey. you’ve got a beautiful girl in there. i saw the love in your eyes in those photos. don’t fumble this one, okay 9?” you told him through tears. hearing you call him that felt like a slap right across the cheek. he missed what you used to have.
he felt sickly. he knew he was probably as white as a ghost. you were right… but he needed the closure.
“thank you, y/n. i hope you’re doing well… and uh, it was good to hear your voice.” he said, scratching at the back of his head lightly.
“yours too, joe.” you said, and then you hung up. he heard the door to the rec center open and turned around, coming face to face with his girlfriend.
“you alright?” she asked, coming down the short steps to caress his cheek. “i’m okay.” he said. he put on a smile and let her link their arms before he walked back inside with her, leaving the last of his feelings for you outside in the freezing winter air. he was thankful that you let him go, and now he could finally let you go too.
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all photos and dividers used are not mine. cred to owners.
taglist: @slimshiesty @starsinthesky5 @joeyburrrow @kykysinlovewithafairytale @burrowdarling @joeyb1989 @loveyatopluto @toterry @unhingedfangirl @superheroprincess22 @burreauxsworld @definitelynotdomanique @samanthamark5 @superstarshitblog @fa1ry03 @wickedfun9 @xbriexx @venic-bxtch @burrowdarling @angels555 @idbe-theman @yelenasbraid @ladyluvduv @joeburrowshaircurl @joeybisbootiful @livinobx @blairsworld22 @jarring-behavior @yomamaslays4lyfe @gazebotori
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spiderb00 · 1 day ago
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SANTA DOSEN'T KNOW YOU LIKE I DO
Sophia Laforteza X Reader 
“As you drive to Sophia's house, you remember all the times you had together, and you're sure you need to get your girl back” 
Genre – fluff n angst Warnings – none  fruitcake masterlist
Now playing – Santa dosen’t know you like i do, by Sabrina Carpenter 
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The streets were full, the bright lights were scattered everywhere, and the Christmas spirit seemed to hover over everyone, all the time. All you wanted was to get to your destination as quickly as possible. Stopping at a red light, you looked at the passenger seat, empty, as did your heart. The feeling of loss beating hard in your chest, and anguish grew with every minute you lost.   
Sophia wasn't by your side, your Sophia. You never thought you were a needy person, nor a clingy person, but now, seeing that you couldn't stay even a week away from your girlfriend, you're not so sure anymore. You were also no longer sure if Sophia was your girlfriend, after all those stupid arguments – which started as bullshit – you were no longer sure of anything. 
You and Sophia have been dating since Dream Academy, and in all that time, you've never had a fight that took more than ten minutes to make up. But here you were, hurrying to find Sophia, just like at the beginning of everything.   
It was late, everything was dark, and you had just parked your car in front of your girlfriend's dorm. Sophia was having one of the worst weeks of her life, the survival show was killing her, physically and emotionally. She had already shared some of her frustrations with you, so you thought of a way to make her more relaxed happy, even if it was for one night.  
Sophia jumped into the passenger seat of your car, the girl's tired countenance quickly being replaced by a smile. Leaning in, you and the Filipina exchanged a passionate kiss, pulling away and driving quickly away from the dorms so as not to be caught by anyone.  
"I was stressed all day. They said it wouldn't be a survival show, and now Lexie is out..." Sophia collapsed as you put your hand on the girl's thigh, to comfort her. "I know this is my dream, but I just want it to end."  
Stopping your car near the beach, you looked at your girlfriend, seeing how much she was struggling. You admire Sophia, you know you couldn't handle even half of what she's going through.    
"Hey, the fact that it's your dream doesn't mean you have to be strong all the time, baby." You said, wiping tears from the Filipino girl's face. "I admire you, Sophia. You're the strongest girl I've ever met.  
Smiling at you, Sophia leaned in, you meeting her on the way, initiating a tender and love-filled kiss, you would always be there for her no matter what. 
After the light turned green, you headed towards the Kats' house, wiping away some tears that insisted on falling from your eyes. You knew that everything happens for the first time, but you swore to yourself that this would be the first and last time you were without your Sophia.  
Everything reminded you of her, all the streets, all the songs that played on your car radio, and even when you tried to connect your playlist, all those songs were recommended by Sophia. It seems that you can't escape your destiny. And when you walked past a cookie shop, you were more and more sure of that statement. 
"Your shirt is all stained with flour." Sophia said, laughing at you like a child.  
All you wanted was to make gingerbread cookies to eat by watching a Christmas movie that was in the catalog on Netflix. Sophia had been recording all day Christmas content with the Kats, and she even came home sad about losing a mixer to Megan. But all the sadness dissipated with laughter and a lot of mess that you made in the kitchen.   
With the cookies now in the oven, Sophia and you took the time to wash the dishes and put away the ingredients that were on the countertop. But it seems that you get distracted every time. 
"Oh, yes?" You asked Sophia, as the girl laughed even more and nodded. "Alright, how about that?" Picking up a handful of flour with your hand, you brought it towards your mouth, blowing it all in the face of your beautiful girlfriend.   
Sophia stopped laughing immediately, and the kitchen, which had previously been filled with laughter from the Filipino girl, was now filled with your laughter. Watching you laugh, Sophia hid the smile that was about to come out, and also took a handful of flour, throwing everything on your head. Stopping laughing, you looked at Sophia, who also looked at you briefly, before running up the stairs to get away from you. 
When you finally parked at the Kats' house, at night it had already fallen, and you were getting out of the car with a bouquet in your hands, ready to have your girl back. Ringing the doorbell, and waiting, you saw a Yoonchae open the door. When the younger girl saw you, a smile came across her face.  
"Yn, you've come! Will you talk to Sophia? Please talk to her!" Laughing lightly at the anxious girl in front of you, you agreed.  
"Yes, I came to talk to her." You said, lifting the bouquet slightly.  
"She's in the room." Yoonchae said, giving way for you to go to where she was indicating. 
Walking to Sophia's room, you took a deep breath, banging on the door, listening to the girl inside tell you to come in. Sticking your head into the room, you saw Sophia sitting on the bed, the little laptop in front of her playing a recording of the two of you in the park at a nice picnic.  
"I loved that day, it was one of the best days of my life." You said, entering the room and closing the door slightly.  
"You spilled all your ice cream on your shirt because you couldn't eat it before it melted." Sophia replied, laughing lightly and trying to covertly wipe away the tears that fell from your eyes. 
"Sophia, I'm sorry-"   
"No, I'm sorry too, and I was being bossy-"  
"No, I should have respected you, I mean, I should have taken your interests more seriously. Sorry, I don't know what got into me." You said. "I realize that I was being selfish, I already called my work and said that I won't be able to work at Christmas. It's okay, they've already managed to replace me, I don't even know why I considered accepting that. Everything I want for my Christmas is in front of me. I love you, Sophia."  
Sophia smiled, a big smile as the woman leaned over and kissed your lips, putting her hands on your cheeks and caressing the spot with her thumb. The kiss was full of passion and longing, trying to make up for all the lost time of these last days. You felt on top of the world, and you promised yourself that you would never do something like that again.   
Santa would never bring you another Sophia, you wouldn't miss this one. 
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Just three more stories for fruitcake, tomorrow we will have the angst with Daniela. I am so sad 😭
I'm loving fruitcake, but I want to finish it soon, I really want to focus on the requests
xoxo, spider.
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thisapplepielife · 2 days ago
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Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles.
Gossip Is Currency
Prompt Day 21: Formal | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language, Canon Background Stancy | Tags: Missing Scene from S2's The Pollywog, Post-Halloween "Bullshit" Scene, Pre-Steddie, Platonic Hellcheer, School Sucks, Eddie Knows
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This is cruel and unusual punishment. 
Eddie sits on the stupid folding chair, behind the stupid folding table, with a stack of tickets to sell to the winter formal. It was this or another suspension, and it was only because he was sure Wayne would not appreciate not having to talk to the principal again anytime soon, that Eddie chose this option.
They've got bubbly cheerleader Chrissy Cunningham sitting next to him controlling the money box that they definitely didn't trust him to be anywhere near, as they try to sell tickets to the kids still roaming around during extracurriculars.
Chrissy hasn't said anything to him after greeting him, and he hasn't said anything in return. They hung out once before, during a middle school talent show, but he doesn't expect that she remembers that.
Another shitty jock walks up.
"Two?" Chrissy asks.
"Yeah," the kid answers, and she takes the money, makes the change, and all Eddie has to do is hand over the two ticket stubs.
He resents it. 
It's stupid, it's–
"It's bullshit," he hears from down the hall.
Yeah, it's exactly that.
And hell's frozen over, if he agrees with King Steve.
Harrington's in some sort of heated debate with Wheeler as they stomp down the hallway, bickering back and forth. She's a fucking firebrand, that one. Everyone thinks she's a priss, but oh no, Eddie's studied this whole school long enough to know that's not even remotely true.
Harrington's gonna get knocked down a peg or two under her, and deservedly so.
Seeing them coming in his direction is at least interesting. Eddie tears off the two tickets and hands them over to Tweedle Dumb, and keeps watching the free show heading his way.
"Winter formal tickets?" Chrissy asks Harrington, and Jesus H. Christ, does she have no observation skills? Now is not the time. This is the time to blend into the wall so they can get the dirty fucking details on this fight. Gossip is currency.
Harrington turns to look at them, and shakes his head no. He looks more sad than mad, and that isn't near as fun. 
"Steve," Wheeler says, and she looks annoyed.
Harrington runs his hands through his hair, tugging at the ends, and then they're gone. 
Well, that was uneventful in the end. He didn't learn anything worth repeating.
Eddie had heard rumors of a Halloween night blow-up, but wasn't there to see it with his own eyes. Apparently they're still in a tiff today.
He can still hear the echo of them around the corner and down the hall, and well, he's nosey. It pays to know everything that's going on in this school.
"Be right back," Eddie says, and follows them down the hall, with the excuse that he's heading to the pop machine.
He digs four quarters out of his pocket, and pretends it's hard to make a decision, before hitting the Mellow Yellow button. The machine whirrs to life, and the can drops down. He feeds the other two quarters in, still trying to listen to Harrington and Wheeler fussing by the double-doors.
Eddie can't really decipher much besides hissing mumbles. Damn.
He presses another button without even really paying attention.
Welch's Grape Soda.
He might actually pick that over the Mellow Yellow he thought he originally wanted.
Harrington and Wheeler leave, so Eddie takes both cans back towards the table, holding them up, an offer, "You want?"
Chrissy smiles, "Really?"
Eddie nods, "You choose," he says, and she falters, just a bit, looking up at him like there might be a wrong answer.
There's no wrong answer here. No trick. He puts them both down on the table, "Totally fine either way."
She reaches for the grape, and is still looking his way. He nods, "Excellent choice," as he picks up the Mellow Yellow, and cracks open the can.
"Thanks, Eddie," she says, like he's given her something more than a can of pop. Carver's a bigger dick than he'd realized, apparently. 
They sit in silence, waiting for more kids to finish up with their stupid clubs and practices. 
The door clangs closed on the other end of the school, and they wait. It's Harrington again. He crosses the hall intersection in his little shorts, and Eddie can see that he's pinching his nose as he darts out of their line of sight as quickly as he entered.
Then it's just them, alone in the hallway again.
"She called him bullshit," Chrissy whispers.
Eddie turns and looks at her, waiting for her to elaborate.
She does.
"On Halloween. At Tina's party. She called him and his love bullshit. I heard it myself, waiting for the bathroom. She was drunk, not making sense about Barb Holland. It was pretty mean."
"No shit?" he asks, leaning closer. 
She nods, giving him a rundown of the whole party. She's got all the good gossip, not just about Harrington and Wheeler's dust up. Eddie feels a twinge of something. 
He's well acquainted with being shit on publicly.
Nobody's around this school, and Eddie gets up to go take a piss. He can't sit still. Hates it. And doing it for this is a special version of hell.
He walks down the hall, to the bathroom. He stands in front of the urinal, unzips and is pissing when he hears the stifled cough from behind him.
Eddie turns to look and sees familiar shoes under the stall door.
Tucking himself back in, re-zipping, he reaches over and flushes the urinal.
"Harrington," Eddie says. 
He waits and there's no response. 
"Harrington," he tries again.
"Go away, Munson," Harrington says, and then mumbles under his breath, "It's bullshit. I'm bullshit."
Eddie takes three steps towards the door, then impulsively turns back.
"She's wrong, you know? You're not bullshit."
And then Eddie waits a beat before adding, "You're just an asshole."
Steve chuckles, and Eddie smiles to himself as he turns and heads out the door.
Timing is everything. 
Mission accomplished.
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scary-grace · 2 days ago
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(secret) santa, baby - part 7 of a shigaraki x f!reader fic
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Shigaraki doesn't want to participate in the office's Secret Santa exchange, but when Toga promises to make it easy on him, he gives in. But making it easy for him makes it a lot harder for you -- you're the one who got his list. Office AU, no quirks. A fic in 12 parts. Divider by @ wcnderlnds
part i part ii part iii part iv part v part vi part vii part viii
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part vii (staying in)
“I think everyone else is asleep,” you say, glancing around Toga’s living room. “We can probably turn this off.”
“Still awake,” Spinner says from the armchair, which he stole when Magne left after the end of the third movie. “I’m watching.”
“Yeah? What just happened?” Tomura asks.
“He’s giving everybody weird haircuts,” Spinner says. Close enough. “I have to pay attention. Aiba likes this guy’s movies. She says he’s –”
He yawns. “Nostalgic. I’m watching.”
“Okay, but nobody else is,” you say. “Shouldn’t we call it?”
Tomura glances around the room. Magne left after making everybody sit through Love Actually and Twice left midway through Die Hard because he gets scared of sleeping in other people’s houses, which leaves Toga, the girl she invited, Spinner, Dabi, Tomura, and you. Of everybody who’s left, only you and Tomura can be said to actually be awake. Spinner’s yawning on every other breath, Toga and the girl are cuddled up in the same beanbag, snoring, and Dabi drank too much eggnog and was out like a light before they’d even finished Krampus. You and Tomura are definitely outnumbered.
It’s not like Tomura isn’t tired. Tomura’s really tired. He feels the heaviness in his limbs and the yawns tightening his jaw, but his mind is wide awake, and he’s going to pay attention to every second of the movie you picked. Since he gave up forcing everybody to watch Gremlins in favor of your movie, he wants to make sure it was worth it, and he wants to know exactly what happened in case you want to talk about it afterwards. He’s hoping you do. He’s not ready for you to leave yet.
Tomura wasn’t sure about seeing you outside of work, but then he decided it would help him figure things out. Seeing you around the office is one thing. For him to know if he likes you, he has to know what you’re like outside of work, so he can decide if he’d want to hang out with you then, too. Tomura’s not good at this whole liking-people bullshit. If there was some kind of life skills class where everybody learned it, he probably missed it while he was being homeschooled or in juvie. By the time he got out, halfway through high school, everybody already knew what they were doing. Tomura just has to fumble through somehow.
You make it feel less like fumbling. It makes more sense to Tomura when you’re sitting next to him, roasting Love Actually just like he is, actually paying attention during the horror movie he picked instead of drinking straight through it. You pay attention to things, notice them, just like Tomura’s Secret Santa notices stuff about him. Tomura feels less weird about being noticed than he used to.
But he doesn’t want to just sit here noticing and getting noticed all night long. He wants to talk to you about something that’s not work or whatever dumb Christmas thing is happening, and he can only manage half. “Is this really the first movie you thought of when I said you could pick one?”
“I was trying to pick one you all would like,” you say. Something about that reminds Tomura of the way you wrote your wish list. “I do like this one, though. Some people think it’s stretching it to call it a Christmas movie, but it’s all leading up to Christmas, so I count it.”
Movies that can only be called Christmas movies if Tomura’s stretching it are his favorite kind of Christmas movies. “Why do you like it when it’s going to be sad?”
You glance sideways at him. “What makes you think it’s going to be sad?”
“The grandma telling the story is the main girl when she’s old, and she’s telling it past tense,” Tomura says. You nod. “Besides, he’s – like that. No way is that working out well for anybody.”
“But it could,” you counter. “You might be right about how the story goes, but there’s nothing in the story that says it has to be that way.”
Tomura thought you were awake, but maybe you’re sleepier than he thought. “You mean, other than the whole story so far?”
“I mean –” You trail off. “In some stories, there’s obstacles that can’t be overcome. Like somebody being dead, or something being too wrong to work. And in some stories the obstacles are a choice, kind of. Those are the ones I like.”
Tomura’s played games where choices matter. Somehow he always stumbles into the bad ending, and knowing that there’s a good ending out there that he was too stupid to get makes it even worse. If you like those stories, you’re probably better at making choices than he is. Still – “If the end’s the same, why does it matter?”
“Well –”
“Hey, can you save the philosophy until after the movie?” Spinner yawns. “I’m still trying to watch.”
Tomura gives it five minutes until Spinner passes out, and he’s only off by about thirty seconds or so. Now it’s just the two of you awake, watching the weird movie you picked. Tomura’s trying hard to watch the movie, but just like he keeps getting the song you sang stuck in his head, he keeps getting stuck looking at you.
The movie ends like Tomura thought it would – sadly, but not surprisingly – and he glances at you. “You’re going to say she could have chosen to stay with him,” Tomura says, and you nod. “Why would she do that? When he’s – like that –”
Tomura doesn’t get why he’s being squeamish about calling it like it is. The main character’s ugly. Scary. Nothing anybody wants to touch. “Maybe she likes him how he is,” you say. You’re not looking at the screen anymore. You’re looking at Tomura. “There’s nothing about the story that says she couldn’t have picked him. There’d have been consequences, but there are always consequences. And I guess that’s why it’s sad. Knowing it could have been the other way just as easily.”
You look away from Tomura, and even though he usually hates being looked at, he sort of misses it. “I guess it’s good that everybody fell asleep,” you say. “This doesn’t really seem like a sad-Christmas crowd.”
“Sad Christmas makes more sense than happy Christmas,” Tomura says before he can really think about it. “It never made sense to me, except –”
Making friends. Spending the holidays with them instead of wondering why everybody but him got to celebrate with people they mattered to. And he’ll never admit it to Toga, or anyone, but the Secret Santa thing is kind of fun. He likes leaving stuff for you and seeing how you react. Almost as much as he likes getting things from whoever his Secret Santa is.
“Yeah,” you say, like he’s explained it all out loud. Maybe he’s tired enough that he has and just didn’t realize. “I can see that.”
You’re doing that noticing thing again. Tomura keeps looking at you, trying to notice you back, but the longer the two of you look at each other, the weirder it starts to feel between you. Like there’s something more that needs to happen. Tomura steels himself, braced for whatever you do or to act as soon as he has an idea of what to do.
And then you look away. “It’s late. I should go.”
“You could stay,” Tomura says. “None of us except Toga live here, and we’re all sleeping over.”
You look like you’re thinking about it. Tomura can think of a lot of reasons why you should – it’s late, it’s cold, it’s probably a long way to your apartment, you’d basically have to wake up again by the time you got home – but before he can say any of them, you nod. “Okay. Where should we sleep?”
You end up with your heads at opposite ends of the couch, under the same blanket. Both of you rustle around, knees knocking together as you try to settle in. You fall asleep faster than Tomura does. There’s no way he can imagine you tangling your legs up with his if you were awake, and Tomura’s so focused on trying to live with being this close to someone that the question of whether he likes you is answered definitively offscreen. It’s something he wakes up with. Just like he wakes up still sharing the couch with you.
<- part vi part viii ->
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urfavbirdprince · 1 day ago
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Stolas has not felt one moment of happiness in the entirety of season 2 oh my god
The circus ended with him sad and miserable
In seeing stars he was stressed out over Stella's bullshit and Octavia going missing
In western energy he was kidnapped, tortured, and ghosted
We all know what happened during full moon.
Apology tour was full moon but drunker and longer and somehow even more miserable
In mastermind he lost everything
And in sinsmas he's coming to turns with losing everything + off his meds
Please vizipop give my fav a break 😞
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