#this post bc its draining and sad and i want to be happy (but i gotta write this junk outta my system first; that's what under the cut is 4
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Yan! Llama Hybrid x SheepHybrid! Reader
— Recently, on the farm, a bunch of coyotes and wolves started to snag some sheep hybrids into the woods when they would get too close to the fences. It has gotten so bad that they would do it in broad daylight.
The owners decided that they would introduce a new addition to the herd to combat the coyotes. A male Llama named Lumi. All of the sheep were skeptical at first because they all thought that it was a little odd that the new sheep would have such a long neck and a lot bigger in size, but soon enough, they couldn't help but warm up to him.
Lumi, on the other hand, was still in his awkward phase. He'd recently entered into adulthood and was feeling sad and lonely without his parents there to guide him, but it wasn't until he saw your gorgeous curls and your small little tail that wagged in excitement. Just in that moment, he'd decided to be your life-long mate and started the process of courting you.
You did not give a shit about Lumi. You only cared about the coyotes that ate the rest of the flock. You wanted to start making sacrifices to grow your cult of small critters such as squirrels and rabbits.
This was because you heard from a passing by sheep hybrid that was being transported to another farm about how you could obtain everything you wanted if people devoted their lives to you.
However, you didn't expect Lumi to be so dedicated to you that he'd easily deciphered your messages to your devout followers and your weekly gatherings.
As you walked out of the dead of night, with the intention of killing a coyote that night. But it was oddly still, as if it was waiting for something. The trees didn't ruffle against each other, and the cool wind was nowhere to be seen
You stiffened up and silently walked back. If one of the other sheeps found out about this whole cult thing you had going on, you'd be ousted and killed by the coyotes instead.
But, you were immediately thrown down and turned over. Your eyes widened in panic and started to attack the person who held you down silently, only to realize that blood was dripping on your face.
"My love, I've killed one of those tainted and unpure coyotes for your sacrifice. I would hate to see your delicate hands get stained with something unworthy of your desire... but why... Why do you yearn and look at someone else with interest other than me? ... Only I shall be your eyes and ears, my love..."
Random and barely edit post after months of not posting. I was watch yt shorts and i came across a video abt guard llamas w sheeps. Its been on my mind for 3 weeks and i started this 2 weeks ago. I only decided now to finish it.
You can see the point where i went fuck it because i had no idea what to do with the reader's background so i was like "Ooh maybe they want to smash the coyotes... what's close to smashing coyotes... Cult." Cult leader YN it is.
Anyways below is for the rest of people who want to know what happened after that incident.
I feel better about my dog's death, but we weren't able to get him back due to the poor weather and the fact he was last seen in a drain. So there wasn't a proper burial, but I'm happy that we didn't end up with 2 losses. We had them since they were puppies, and its upsetting that the younger one died, but i understand why they had to kill him.
He's a dangerous breed of dog even though he's docile most of them time. He was a cane corso, and my older dog is a rottweiler and pitbull mix. So not the most safest dogs to be around, but what are you gonna do when your country is busy locking up a man for money laundering bcs they shit at their jobs.
Right, if I'm not lazy enough, I'll go back and redo every one of my ocs bcs im on the verge of deleting them all from embarrassment. Then that will hopefully be a small week long event for my tumblr as im not used to those things. But this might take months.
Also, no won't do kinktober, im lazy, and smut isn't my forte. Anyways bye-bye, see yall when my coffin feels too stuffy~
(soz if this is shit as well bcs i didn't do a whole lotta explaining abt Lumi's behavior)
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tins without labels - prologue (j.wy)
summary: Jung Wooyoung's life was always somehow intertwined with your own. from living in the same neighbourhood as kids to attending the same college; fights, bickering, bruises, teasing comments and tears. Wooyoung and you were never complete strangers but never friends either. Always somewhere in between, growing up with each other but never actually knowing one another. The relationship takes a confusing turn in your third year of college after an injury that places your football career on hold. Lonely, lost and confused, you find yourself at your first college party in the presence of none other than Jung Wooyoung asking him to show you what exactly have you been missing out on. playlist // my main masterlist // moodboard (tba) // click to donate to Palestine
pairing: jung wooyoung x reader warnings: none for this chapter i think! word count: 9.3k taglist: just reply or inbox me if u'd like to be added c: a/n: pls don't say damn when u see that i started another story. listen LISTEEEEEN. i know what u all will say..."bree should u rly be starting another series when u havent finished or started the 4757 bajillion ones that u already posted?" the answer is YES. let me explain myself briefly, this summer has been rly hard for me bc i lost someone who was incredibly important to me and i just can't write...i just can't! everything looks like shit!!! im halfway done with soot and something just isn't letting me continue. i can't write pretty on the outside or literally anything else i've started bc its all simply too sad. writing is draining to begin with despite how much i love and enjoy it but writing angst is k wording my mental health lol! so....i present to you this series, mostly dedicated to myself literally no one asked for this, i just feel like its something i need to write and always wanted to so here i go! it will be a little heartwarming series with lots of humor and coming of age shenanigans and huge chunks of it written from personal experience and i hope u guys read it and like it. i had a lot of fun writing this prologue. (p.s. i literally know jackshit about football/soccer so if by some chance someone that reads this knows their football shit....just let it go pls lmfaoo)
(prologue; when we were kids)
and I couldn't find the words, i couldn't think of what to say and all that I can do is stop and think about the days when all we used to dream about was meeting after school
6 and 8 years old;
Your mom helped you build the snowman.
An entire morning of running around your front yard, laughing and playing in the freshly fallen snow, seeing the air you breathe out in front of you that you pretended was cigarette smoke to make your mom laugh as the cold nipped at your cheeks.
The snowman was almost twice your size (which wasn't a lot, you were a fairly small child) with pebbles stuck in as his eyes and teeth pulled up in a big grin. Your mom found a small bucket in the old shed behind the house which she placed on his head as a makeshift hat and because you didn't have any carrots, there was a small twig stuck at the center of the snowman's face to serve as a long crooked nose.
(The snowman didn't have any arms, a detail that went over your head at the time.)
After admiring the big statue in the farther corner of your front yard for awhile, you finally retreated into the house with your socks wet along with the majority of your hot pink snowsuit. As you kicked off the damp clothes and exchanged them for warm, dry ones and fuzzy socks and then settled in front of the TV in the toasty living room with a mug of cocoa - you couldn't help but feel that it was a happy day.
Which is why when, in the late afternoon, once you looked out of your window to see what once used to be your snowman is now nothing but a big pile of disheveled snow with his plastic hat rolling around the sidewalk and two boys running away down the street with shrill laughter echoing after them, you simply couldn't help but burst into tears.
"Mommy!" You screamed out, running outside your front door in fuzzy socks and your sweater, as dramatic as you were. But you were six and your life still ended and began with coloring books and favorite toys, so a snowman that you made with your mom getting destroyed, surely felt like the end of the world.
Once your mom stepped out after you, about to scold you for walking outside into the cold air with no jacket on, you burst into crocodile tears as you pointed to the spot where your snowman once stood.
"Oh, no." She breathed out with a sigh before grabbing her jacket and slipping into whatever shoes were available by the door (they were your dad's old tennis shoes) and walking across the front yard to collect the small bucket from the sidewalk.
All you could do was stand and watch as you wailed so loudly after your snowman that the entire neighbourhood could hear.
"Honey, it's okay." Your mom tried to soothe you as she walked up the steps to your house, carrying what used to be the snowman's hat. "It's just a snowman, we'll make another one tomorrow!"
But you were inconsolable, bursting out in another wave of loud cries as you stomped your tiny foot and pointed to the house across the street.
"They ruined it! W-Wooyoung ruined it!" You sob, waving towards the boy's house with all the anger a six year old could possibly muster. You knew it was him, recognizing the ugly red jacket he wore this entire winter and his even uglier looking friend, Chanwook.
You weren't friends with Wooyoung. He was older than you and all of his friends were mean. You once tried to play with them when you first moved to the neighbourhood but they didn't want to play with a girl. You cried about that too.
They often teased you. Wooyoung said your crooked teeth made you look ugly!
She sighs again, "And that was very mean of him. But, Y/N, we'll just make another snowman tomorrow."
"But-" You start again, tears still sliding down your face.
"We'll build him in the backyard where we have a fence, so no-one will be able to touch him." She offers with a smile, hoping you'll finally be consoled enough to walk inside and be safe from the harsh cold.
"But I won't be able to look at him from the window." You tell her quietly, voice going hoarse from the crying and bottom lip already wobbling as another wave of tears began to sunk in. She gives you a sympathetic smile.
"We'll get him a prettier hat and we'll use two long branches to give him arms!" Your mom offers again, trying to butter you up so the tears would stop. "We'll get a carrot for his nose and big pretty rocks for his eyes!" Once she realized it was working, she continued; "And we'll take a picture of you with him so you'll always get to look at him, even when he melts away!"
You peer up at her with a hiccup, finally bribed enough; "A picture?"
She nods, holding the door wider for you to finally walk inside as you inch towards the door, fuzzy socks now soaked, "A picture. We'll send your dad to the mall to develop them."
So, you finally walk inside the warm house again, changing your socks and immediately going to your father's home office to pester him about the camera and just how long will it take for a picture to be developed.
-
"-Y/N, we'll just make another snowman tomorrow!"
Wooyoung heard your mom tell you as he peers at the exchange from across the street, through his bedroom window, freshly changed into dry clothes after a long hard day of playing outside with Chanwook and now, warming his frozen hands on the radiator.
When Wooyoung saw the snowman parked in the corner of your front yard, just a step away from the sidewalk, he and Chanwook thought it would be funny to ruin it.
The thing was ugly and had an even uglier bucket at the top of it's head, perfect to kick around the street!
He didn't think too much about it, if he was honest. Just saw a big lump of snow he wanted to kick at until it collapsed, so that's what Wooyoung did. It was just a silly snowman.
Besides, you were already six years old. Far too old to be making a stupid snowman. You should've been going sledding with the rest of the neighborhood kids on the small hill just a couple of minutes away from your street. Wooyoung was mature now, so his mom allowed him to go without a chaperone this year. You were always so childish, no wonder your mom didn't let you go with them. You cried over everything.
But he didn't expect you to cry over the stupid snowman!
It was just a snowman. It would've melted anyway when the weather got warmer! Or gotten ruined by someone else!
The brief fear of your mom telling Wooyoung's mom about what he'd done struck him. He'd positively get grounded for ruining your dumb snowman if she found out and then the rest of his winter break would be spent inside of the house.
You could always make another snowman. A better one. And since you're such a crybaby, Wooyoung would make sure to tell Chanwook that they won't be touching that one. Leave that ugly snowman alone.
Just so you wouldn't cry anymore.
-
10 and 12 years old;
"It's a shame your mother is dead, maybe if she was still around she would teach you how to act like a girl!"
Your face flushed in anger as you stared the other boy, Beomseok, his chubby fingers still wrapped around your pencil case which was how the argument started in the first place.
He was in the same class as you and a typical bully. Bigger than the rest of his peers and always using it to his advantage to intimidate and tease them. Today, he took your pencil case and when you asked for him to give it back, he only gave you a gnarly smile and started running around the classroom and eventually out on the halls, screaming taunts at you. It would be a lie to say that you didn't scream some pretty mean stuff back but in your defense, he deserved it.
Now, you both stood as if you're ready to duel as the rest of your classmates and even some upperclassmen gathered to see what the commotion is all about, your fury rising so high that tears spring in your eyes at the mention of your mom as you observe his smug smirk. Obviously, from a very young age, you were bad at managing your anger.
"I hate you!" You scream out, voice high pitched. Then you jump on Beomseok with your full weight, successfully pulling him to the hard hallway floors as your hands curled into tiny fists that started colliding with his face.
And Beomseok, for all his intimidating build, talked an awfully big game just to end up bursting into tears as your fist collided with his nose. He was bad at fighting, you notice, if he could be beat up by a lanky girl almost two times smaller than him.
"I just-" Punch. "-wanted-" Punch. "-my pencil case-" A slap. "-back!"
"Somebody help!" He screams from under you, whining under each attack but his classmates were too busy cheering you on to come to his defense.
Once you start harshly pulling on his hair, two arms wrap themselves under your armpits and pull you off of your classmate. You're standing again and are turned by your shoulders to come face to face with your teacher, screaming at you.
"Is this a proper behavior in school?!" and lots of "Your father will hear about this!"'s and "You're going to the principle's office!" as she started pulling you by your arm down the corridor that was still filled with students.
"Everyone to your classrooms! Now!" Your teacher screams from the top of her lungs as she tugs on you and you follow after her with a frown on your face.
Stupid Beomseok.
-
Wooyoung's stomach hurts from laughing, clapping Chanwook's shoulder who was almost sitting on the floor due to his own fit of pure glee, as he watches Kim Beomseok roll around the floor in pain, clutching his nose.
There's scratches and bruises already forming on his cheeks, little bit of blood mixed with a lot of big, fat tears. It's hard to feel even slightly bad for Beomseok, when Wooyoung heard how he torments his classmates along with the younger kids during recess. Did it count as bullying if the bully is the one getting bullied?
Maybe he finally got what was coming for him, nobody usually stood up to him and Wooyoung least expected you to be the one to put him in his place.
He deserved it, Wooyoung thinks, after what he said about your mom.
Wooyoung remembers her funeral three years ago, he remembers how much you cried and how you didn't leave your house for a month that summer. He even rung the doorbell to ask if you wanted to come out and play one time which he never did because you were a child and he was much more mature than you, you two had nothing in common. But he felt sad for you.
Your mom was nice, she always brought Wooyoung a chocolate when she'd come for a visit.
Sadly, they discovered she had cancer when you were only seven and Wooyoung was nine. By the time they discovered it, it was already too far along and your mom passed away on a summer evening while you were outside playing hide and seek.
Wooyoung remembers feeling so bad how they always made you the seeker that day because you were the youngest kid in the neighbourhood and far too easy to convince that it was simply always your turn to look for the other kids.
Your dad opened the door, smiling sadly at Wooyoung and saying that you weren't feeling well enough to come out and play. Wooyoung didn't try again after that.
The teacher is pulling you by your elbow through the crowd, yelling at the top of her lungs for everyone to head to their classrooms since class should start in a couple of minutes. You silently follow her, face twisted into an angry grimace.
Your hair has fallen out of your ponytail, long strands sticking to your face and Wooyoung is pretty sure that your shirt got ripped during the brawl.
Wooyoung might've been laughing a bit too loudly because with angry eyes and cheeks flushed, your head whips towards him just as you pass by him.
Wooyoung opens his mouth with a smile, to say something like "Good job, Y/L!" maybe. He doesn't get the chance to.
"What are you laughing at, Jung?" You ask loudly and Wooyoung's laughter immediately dies down.
"Wha-?"
And it's then, that your foot meets Wooyoung's shin in a harsh kick that makes him yowl in pain and makes Chanwook burst into another wave of laughter as his hands grab at Wooyoung who doubles over in pain.
"Y/N!" The teacher screams out again, pulling you back by your shirt and going on another rant, filled with threats of calling your dad to school and something else he can't process at the moment.
Wooyoung is too busy feeling the pain and anger that fills him up as he rubs at the place your sneaker covered foot meet his leg.
"Y/N, you psycho!" He yells after you who is still getting dragged away. You don't even bother to look back at him.
(He still collects your pencil case from the floor and throws it on a desk that a classmate of yours says belongs to you before exiting the classroom and going to his own. Wooyoung tells himself it's for no other reason but just so your dad won't have to buy you a new one. He has enough on his plate already.)
-
14 and 16 years old;
Wooyoung has a girlfriend.
You don't know why that's something that bothers you so much.
Maybe because you don't understand what a girl could possibly see in Jung Wooyoung to willingly let him hold her hand or...God forbid, kiss her. Ew.
That's a lie, maybe even a bad attempt at coping on your part because there's a general consensus in your high school that Jung Wooyoung is good-looking.
You didn't even think he was ugly when you were younger, when he was pulling on your pigtails and teasing you for playing with dolls. He was cute for an annoying kid back then too with his chubby cheeks and bowl haircut.
He was especially cute now, a recent discovery of yours which you have no one else to thank except puberty. It did wonders on your hormones and it did wonders on Jung Wooyoung too.
His jawline got sharper the more baby fat he lost and lips grew fuller. His boyish smile was very attractive, even his smile lines were captivating. Wooyoung grew taller as well, not by much compared to the other boys in his grade but he was tall just enough so you'd have to look up to him when you argue but not enough to be intimidated by him.
So, yes, you supposed you'd understand the appeal if it weren't for his stupid mouth and mean words more often than not, directed at you. You threw shots back as well, sometimes even started an argument first if you were feeling particularly annoying but maybe that sums up why you're so bothered.
He started dating Chaeyoung at the beginning of this summer and since you have the fortune (read: misfortune) of living in the house right across the street from Wooyoung's, you were an unlucky witness to most of their dates.
And he was so sweet to her. He'd buy her cheap flowers and ice cream, they'd walk around the neighbourhood holding hands, they'd take Wooyoung's younger brother Kyungmin to the playground in the evenings. Wooyoung would smile a lot at her and Chaeyoung would always smile back.
You even saw them kiss. Just once.
When you were folding laundry in your bedroom, you looked through the window just in time to see their lips connect on Wooyoung's front porch. You quickly looked away, feeling shy and embarrassed, not understanding why you were blushing or feeling so sad all of a sudden.
Why was he so nice to other girls but never to you? You shouldn't think too much about it, the problem isn't you. Chaeyoung wasn't just some other girl but his girlfriend. Of course, he'd treat her special.
Whatever. You scoff as you watch Chaeyoung run to Wooyoung across the quad as you adjust your sports bag over your shoulder.
She jumps into his arms and you can hear his loud, annoying laughter even to here as his arms wrap around her and he picks her up from the ground.
"What are you doing?" You almost jump out of your skin at the sound of Ryujin's voice as she nosily tries to follow where you were staring at.
Ryujin was the first friend you met since you started high school two weeks ago. She might be the only friend you have for awhile since you haven't really been trying to even get to know your classmates as you were too busy trying out for the girls football team.
You don't remember when you started actively playing football exactly. You always played it for fun with the boys from the neighbourhood (Wooyoung included) but maybe it was around seventh grade when your dad pestered you into trying out a sport because he didn't know what else to do with you so he packed you up and sent you to a sports camp for two weeks one summer, that you started actually playing.
You went there only caring about your iPad and came back saying you'll be a professional football player.
Your dad doesn't want to say it but you know he thinks it's a fickle dream that will fizzle out with age.
Thankfully, Ryujin shared the same love for the sport as you so for now, you were relieved and content to spend time with her. She was nice.
You didn't need anyone else but maybe it would've been nice if someone who was older, who you were familiar with even if you always fought, would give you a couple of words of useful advice. Regarding the new teachers and subjects and all.
High school was scary.
"Nothing." You answer quickly, turning your back to Wooyoung and his girlfriend and fully facing your new friend.
"Nothing?" Ryujin gives you a suspicious smile, eyes darting over your shoulder once more before she ruffles your hair. You yelp. "Do you have a crush already, Y/N?"
You gently shove her away with a huff, fixing your bangs, "Don't be stupid. These boys are all ugly."
A crush. As if!
She laughs at that, throwing her arm around your shoulder as she directs you both to the field where practice was held, already yapping about her own crush.
-
"Hey, isn't that your neighbour?" Chaeyoung nudges Wooyoung with her elbow, nodding somewhere behind Wooyoung. He cranes his neck to follow the direction before his eyes land on you.
He snorts, "Yeah."
You were standing in the middle of the football field, sweaty and red in the face from all the running, with your hands on your hips as you paid attention to what your coach was yelling towards your teammates across the field.
The school's jersey seemed far too big on your lanky form and your hair was a mess, always slipping out of your ponytail. You were much smaller in build than the rest of the team and it looked funny to Wooyoung.
He didn't expect you to be into sports, let alone a sport like football. In fact, Wooyoung is surprised that you don't burst into tears when you start arguing with the makeshift referee played by another student. It's what usually happens if you spend longer than a minute arguing with Wooyoung.
And then he ends up being the bad guy for making you cry but no one ever mentions that you sometimes provoke him first as well but can't take it when it's dished right back.
Since you're such a crybaby.
He watches with an amused grin as you bare your teeth at the referee, who is really just a senior that thought it would be a fun time but now he has to stand arguing with you. And to Wooyoung's further amusement, the older boy who is almost two heads taller than you, looks like he's about to shit his pants in front of you.
Hm. Maybe not such a crybaby when it's anyone else but Wooyoung.
"I think she has a crush on you."
He turns to look at his girlfriend with a confused look, growing further confused when she smiles teasingly at him.
"Who?" He asks and she gives him a knowing look before nodding in your direction again. Wooyoung splutters out a surprised laugh, "Y/N?"
"Yeah." She nods excitedly, giggling, "She's cute."
Wooyoung scoffs with an eyeroll, "She's a kid."
A kid who might have a small crush on Wooyoung but still, a kid nonetheless.
He'd be stupid to say he didn't notice that you sometimes stare at him a little too much but what the hell is he supposed to do about that. You just started high school, you probably weren't even aware of what you were doing. It was a childish crush because at the end of the day that's what you are - childish.
Chaeyoung giggles again, the sound is soft and sweet, leaning her head against his shoulder.
"It's kind of sweet." She sighs dreamily and Wooyoung snorts because nothing about you was sweet, "You're her handsome neighbour, the only guy who's always been close to her since she was a kid, she probably starts those childish arguments with you so you'd give her attention and then writes about you in her diary and-"
"Y/N is the last person to have a diary, first of all." Wooyoung interrupts with a snicker before looking down on his girlfriend who is teasing him, "Second of all, you sound ridiculous."
Chaeyoung lifts her head up from where it rested against him and looks at him seriously, her lips pressed together. Then she starts imitating Wooyoung's last sentence in a deeper voice that sounds nothing like him, "You sound ridiculous-ah!"
She squeals when Wooyoung pinches her at the waist lovingly and it turns to tickling her as he presses kisses to her cheeks.
As they continue to exchange kisses between hushed giggles, the conversation about you is forgotten.
-
18 and 20 years old;
From the moment you opened the door to greet your date, you knew that the whole night would be a complete and utter disaster.
Maybe you watched too many teen movies that romanticized prom night so much that even you ended up believing and looking forward to the glorified fantasy of it but boy, were you in for a rude awakening.
Your prom date was a boy from your Calculus class named Eunwoo.
To be completely honest, you were convinced for the entirety of your senior year that you wouldn't have a date for prom at all because not much has changed since freshman year.
You still had one good friend (two, if you count Ryujin's friend that says she likes hanging out with you) and your focus was always on football. Add schoolwork and keeping up your good grades and you truly didn't have much time left for socializing.
So when Eunwoo pulled you aside after your football practice and asked you if you wanted to go to prom together with a handsome boyish smile on his face, your excitement for that night skyrocketed.
Eunwoo wasn't exactly a friend but he was nice to you during class, maybe you were wrong but his niceness sometimes even bordered flirting. Already, you were daydreaming about a possible boyfriend to spend your last summer with before you start college.
With a date or without one, you spend the bigger portion of your senior year saving up money for prom night or should you say prom preparations.
Makeup was never your strongest suit, in fact, it wasn't a suit of yours at all. You never wore it. You never did your hair either.
Even on the rare occasion that you went to a high school party, you never wore anything else aside from jeans and T-Shirts. You were an athlete and you committed to the bit entirely, always being ready to sweat and opting for comfort of loose clothes above anything else.
But you wanted to look nice for prom, pretty. Not because of Eunwoo but for yourself. Prom is only once and you wanted to make sure you do it with confidence.
All your saved up allowance went on the hair and makeup appointment along with your dress that Ryujin helped you pick out. The dress was quite simple in your opinion, a dark red one with a square neckline held up by two thin straps that clung to your curves and flared out at the bottom.
With your hair pinned up in an up-do with two curled strands framing your face and glitter on your eyelids, you thought you looked very pretty, beautiful even. Hell, it was probably the best you looked in your entire eighteen years of life. You could even put up with the painful heels for the sake of it.
Your dad made you pose over the whole house while you waited for your date to pick you up. First a photoshoot on the stairs, then one on the front porch, then a little in front of the living room fireplace.
He seemed so excited with his camera hanging around his neck as he followed you around the house.
It was one of the moments you wished your mom was here for but nonetheless, it was much fun with your dad only as well. You were happy.
It all went to shit though once you opened the door for Eunwoo and he started laughing in your face.
"Oh my God!" He laughs, almost doubling over at the apparent hilarity of your appearance, "What are you wearing?!"
You laugh nervously, ignoring your father's glance at you from the sheer embarrassment, "What? Is it that bad?"
"No, no." Eunwoo shakes his head, wiping a stray tear that escaped while he was laughing, "It's just not like you, at all."
"Oh." You give him a sour smile, your fragilely built ego shattering completely. "I was just...trying something new I guess..."
He snickers with a headshake before offering you his hand, "Come on, let's go take a photo?"
After a small moment of hesitation, feeling your cheeks burn from the humiliation, you let him grab your hand and step out on the front porch. Eunwoo places a hand around your waist to pull you closer as you both smile at your dad's camera.
A couple of photos later, you both head towards Eunwoo's car as your dad waves you goodbye. You give him a small, almost sad wave back as Eunwoo opens the door for you. You ask him;
"Do I really look funny?"
"No, you look pretty no matter what." He answers, helping you with your dress. "It's just doesn't suit you I guess, it's not like you."
"Ah..." You say staring at the dashboard as you watch him round the car to get into the driver's seat. You glance back at your dad just to see him get back into your house and for a split second, you want to call the whole thing off and go back inside with him.
Of course this doesn't suit you. You were the girl guys dapped up in the hallways, the girl that was always covered in hoodies and sweatpants and never wore makeup. You must look stupid, all dolled up like this. What were you thinking.
Prom celebration is usually held at a hotel not far from your high school. The ballroom is enormous, with vast marble floors and high ceilings illuminated by golden, shimmery lights. It looks straight out a fairytale with colorful dresses worn by pretty princess and handsome princes in their extravagant suits. Only, you don't feel like a princess at all.
Eunwoo and you find your table and you briefly say hi to Ryujin and her date. Ryujin tells you how amazing you look and you give her the first (and possibly, only) genuine smile of the night.
"So," Eunwoo starts the conversation a few minutes after you settle down at your table with drinks, "Did you decide where you're going for college? Any scouts?"
"I'm leaning towards SNU. Their Women's Football Club is really strong and I feel like they actually get proper investments and budget." You tell him and he grins interrupting your next sentence.
"See, this is why I like you. It's hard to find a girl who knows about sports and is so chill about everything."
Your mouth stays parted, the rest of your sentence (which was really just saying that the fact the male football team was hot contributed to your decision as joke) went unsaid as his words registered. Every "compliment" Eunwoo gives you is starting to come off so backhandedly that you're beginning to realize that while he thinks he has you all figured out - he doesn't actually know you at all.
You give him a fake laugh and pray to God it doesn't sound fake enough for him to notice as you take a sip of your drink.
An hour later, your heels are killing you so much that you've completely given up on dancing. You observe Ryujin on the dance floor with her date, still going at it and sigh with the silent question of when it would be your turn. Instead, you're stuck to the sidelines with shoes that feel awful on your feet and a date that can't stop talking about how it's attractive that you're a "girl that actually eats". Eunwoo's compliments are becoming weirder by the second.
"Should I just take you home?" Eunwoo asks with an amused smile as he observes you taking off your heels for the tenth time since you sat back down.
"Ah, would you mind?" You give him an apologetic smile, feeling like a burden and a not-so-much-fun date, "I'm sorry, Eunwoo, this is unfair to you-"
"Nah, I had a fun time." He shakes his head, downing the rest of his drink, "Next time, just be yourself though, yeah?"
The weirdly phrased statement makes you pause. "What do you mean?"
"You know, you don't have to dress like this!" He laughs, playfully playing with the thin strap of your dress. You subtly move away from his touch. "It's not like you at all. I don't know if your friends talked you into it just to fit in but you shouldn't let them push you around like this."
He's so wrong that you can't speak for a moment but even if you could, you feel like trying to explain yourself to him would be far too exhausting and would lead to nowhere. Nor do you want it to lead anywhere anymore, if you were honest.
"Girls like that are so exhausting." He gives a tired sigh. "Outfits and makeup aren't the only thing in the world."
"Girls....like that?"
"You know! Like, the touchy-feely shit. Everything is about color-coordination and nail polishes with them. God forbid their hair is out of place. What a headache!" Eunwoo runs a hand through his hear before giving you an award winning smile. "That's why I'm glad I got to hang out with you! You're real."
"I'm....real?" You ask with a cocked head as your eyes start to narrow. He's too busy thinking that you like what he's saying so he continues.
"Yeah. You know, you keep it real. You're not caught up in that frivolous, girly bullshit. You're so chill, Y/N." He keeps smiling at you like he just gave you the highest form of compliment he possibly could.
But you can't bring yourself to crack a smile even if someone held a barrel of a gun to your temple at the moment. In fact, you feel like throwing up. You should've know from the start, from the moment he was so unreasonably impressed with your lack of makeup at the beginning of the year.
Eunwoo was one of those guys.
"Um," You slide your heels back on and grab your clutch, "You know what, you stay. I'll go."
"Wait, what." His brows raise in half confusion and half surprise as he watches you stand up from your seat.
"Yeah, I'll walk home."
"Wait, Y/N. Why would you walk home? I already said I'd drop you off-"
"No thanks. I don't want to get in a car with a sexist."
"What?!" Eunwoo reels back, "What the fuck are you talking about?! I'm not a sexist! I respect women!"
You huff, turning to him with a glare. "You respect women who are "cool" and "chill" and basically act like men. You should've just taken one of your dudes to prom if these are your opinions. I'm out."
So, that's how you find yourself in your pretty dress sitting in one of the plastic chairs of a convenience store with a popsicle in your mouth as you watch the cars drive by. You were too embarrassed to arrive home so early, you hyped up prom night so much to your dad - you'd rather lie and tell him you had a good time.
If the night couldn't possibly get any shittier, while you eat away at your cherry popsicle feeling undeniably sorry for yourself, you hear a familiar laugh followed by sounds of shoes scuffing against the pavement towards the convenience store.
Of course. Of fucking course, Jung Wooyoung would show up now, when you needed him least.
You try to make yourself seem as small as possible in the plastic chair, hoping he or his two friends wouldn't notice you (which in retrospect was a dumb hope, you were sitting right by the entrance in a fucking prom dress).
Ever since Wooyoung graduated high school two years ago, you only saw him in passing. He'd come home for Christmas holidays or a week or two during the summers and you'd only catch him skunk out of his house and into his dad's car if you were lucky. Unlucky, that is of course.
Maybe you were hoping he wouldn't even recognize you and although it would kind of hurt (as embarrassing as that is to admit), you feel like it would be a better option.
But since you were on a roll tonight, obviously this is just another thing that doesn't go your way.
"Nice dress, Y/L/N." You hear Wooyoung's voice speak, followed by snickers from his idiotic friends and his own attempt at stifling his laughter as they walk past you and into the convenience store, the small bell above the door signaling their entrance.
That ends up being your last straw.
You don't cause another fight or yell something back after him, no, you don't have the energy to do that tonight. Instead, you feel like you will cry.
Tears are already burning at your eyes and your bottom lip wobbles, you're not even aware that your eyes follow Wooyoung through the display of the store, watching him as he picks up a pack of beer and heads for the cashier.
He got even more painfully handsome than he was when you'd see him every day before he graduated. His hair was double toned, the top of it black and the bottom strands bleached, brushing the nape of his neck.
You think you could even see a tattoo peaking under his shirt as he moves.
Jung Wooyoung was so not your type. Not that you really knew what your type was but all the guys that you found cute in your high school years were athletes, jocks who were organized and dedicated to their routine which in your opinion showcased their maturity, got good grades and were respected by their peers. Wooyoung was really the complete opposite of that so it was hard to explain why you so weirdly hung up over his approval.
He's still laughing about something with his friends, it would hurt so badly if it was about you, as his eyes dart through the display and connect with your own.
Wooyoung does a double take before his big smile slowly slips and dare you say, eyes soften as he looks at you and his lips part as if he wants to say something.
It could all be in your head though and you're feeling even worse now that he caught you staring at him like a total creep, so you throw your popsicle in the trash and get up with a sigh, slipping back into your heels and deciding to just go home.
-
"Hey, Y/L/N! Wait up, I'll give you a ride home!" Wooyoung calls out after you, the plastic bag swinging back and forth in his hand.
He can hear Chanwook's hushed objection which Wooyoung chooses to ignore, instead focused on walking closer to you. You couldn't make it far since you were basically limping in your heels.
"No thanks." Wooyoung hears your response and rolls his eyes. He hasn't spoken to you in the last two years at all but he can see that nothing has changed much - you were still too stubborn for your own good.
You didn't even bother to turn back and look at him, instead you hitch your dress further up and continue up the street and away from the convenience store.
"Y/N, come on. Quit being a brat and just wait for me to bring the car around."
"I said no!" You yell over your shoulder and let out a small yelp when you stutter a bit on your feet. To Wooyoung, you resembled Bambi right now.
"I'm trying to help you!" He yells back, still following you, "Just let me drive you back-"
"Wooyoung, seriously, fuck off!" You turn to face him with red cheeks and teary eyes (maybe that's why he's insisting so badly to drive you home, you simply look pathetic), "I don't need your fucking help!"
Wooyoung reels back at your tone and harsh words and then a wave of embarrassment washes over him when he hears Chanwook and Eunhyuk laugh behind him, at the fact that he just got told off by his little neighbour.
The embarrassment is followed up by anger that prickles at his skin like needles, he scoffs and if there's one thing Wooyoung will be - it's petty; "Fine! Limp home in your stupid heels then, see if I give a shit!"
You don't give him a response and Wooyoung doesn't bother to look for it either, instead turns around on his feet and heads towards his car (his dad's car). But not before telling a laughing Chanwook to shut the fuck up.
But once he's in the car with the keys in the ignition, he stares at the steering wheel in obvious contemplation before letting out a small groan, "Fuck."
Wooyoung turns to Chanwook, "Sit in the back, please."
His friend looks at him in surprise and confusion. "What?"
"Just sit in the back, will you? Please." Wooyoung repeats, avoiding Chanwook's eyes but feeling his stumped stare.
"Wooyoung, you cannot be serious." His friend laughs in disbelief as if reading his mind, looking around before giving Wooyoung another incredulous look, "She just told you to fuck off!"
Eunhyuk is quiet in the back which is a huge relief for Wooyoung, he really didn't need to defend himself to his other friend too.
"I can't let her go by foot in the dark, you've seen her! She can barely walk!" Wooyoung says defensively to both of his friends as Chanwook moves to the back with a huff.
"And that's your problem...how?" Chanwook, like the annoying pest he is, asks.
"It's not...." Wooyoung trails off, trying to look for an excuse as to why he was going out of his way to give you a ride home. "But...but her dad would kill me if he knew I saw her and didn't drive her back. It's only right."
Chanwook smacks his lips obnoxiously loud, "Sure."
Wooyoung doesn't even need to turn around to know that his friend is giving him a very bold side eye right now.
Eunhyuk snorts but doesn't say anything else. Wooyoung is thankful for that at least.
"She probably won't even want to get in the car." Chanwook comments quietly as they reach you on the sidewalk. He ends up being ignored.
Wooyoung rolls the window of the old car down so he can talk to you, he has to say you're walking at an impressively slow pace. "Y/N, get in the car."
He hears you groan dramatically from the outside, "Jung, you're not my dad. Stop telling me what to do."
Wooyoung ignores Chanwook and Eunhyuk's snickers in the back once again, he grows even more irritated, "I'll call your fucking dad right now and tell him you're walking home alone this late. How about that?"
You turn to him with your glossy lips twisted into a scowl, "You wouldn't."
Always ready to prove a point or in this case, lie straight out of his ass, Wooyoung makes a show of stopping his car next to the sidewalk and fishing his phone from the pocket of his jacket before opening up his contacts and beginning to scroll. He doesn't even have your dad's number.
But Wooyoung is a professional bullshitter so he keeps pressing random buttons with a straight face and presses the phone to his ear before turning to you with his brows raised-
"Okay, fine!" You exclaim with an angry huff and start rounding his car as your cheeks flush a pretty pink color. Wait, pretty-? You open the door and angrily plop into the passenger's seat with a glare directed towards him, "Fucking snitch."
Wooyoung ignores you, locking his phone without another word and beginning to drive away.
There's an awkward silence in the car, only sounds being made are those of the plastic bags filled with beer that keep rustling in Eunhyuk's lap.
"This isn't the way to our street." You say and Wooyoung might be crazy but you almost sound a little nervous at that. He glances at you before it dawns onto him. Of course, you'd be feeling nervous.
It's nighttime and you're in a car with three dudes older than you who you don't know that well. Wooyoung didn't even bother telling you about his plan before he started driving. A curse runs through his head before he clears his throat,
"I'll just drop these two off at a party nearby and then drive you home." He murmurs, chest constricting a little when he sees you cross your hands over your chest, a gesture which makes you seem smaller.
"Wait, wha-" Chanwook, gosh he was really pissing Wooyoung off tonight, starts from the backseat. "Woo, I thought you were going too-"
"I will." Wooyoung interrupts him with a clenched jaw as he pulls up to the house where the party is held, "I'll drop Y/N off and then come back, it won't take more than fifteen minutes. Now get out- Wait, give me that bag right there."
Eunhyuk hands him one of the plastic bags and Wooyoung fishes through it and pulls out two blueberry ice creams out of it before giving the bag back to Eunhyuk. Which he bought for himself, of course. Not because he saw your popsicle melting on the pavement or anything.
Chanwook watches with a dropped jaw before huffing, Wooyoung hears him murmur, "Doing it for her dad, my ass-"
"I'll be right back!" Wooyoung announces loudly, far too loudly, and Eunhyuk slams the car door shut so Wooyoung can drive away.
When he pulls away, the silence in the car is almost stifling so Wooyoung offers you the ice cream, "Here."
You look at him like a second head just popped out of his shoulder before looking back through the window and ignoring him completely. Wooyoung lets out a small groan. So stubborn.
"Oh my God, just take it." He says, placing the ice cream on your lap as he continues to drive. He bites back a smile when he sees you stare at the ice cream on your lap for a long second before grasping it and opening the wrapper so you can eat it.
Wooyoung really doesn't know what he's doing right now.
He doesn't know why he bought ice creams for you, he doesn't know why he insisted on getting rid of his friends first before dropping you off home, he has no idea why he keeps glancing at you every couple of seconds from the corner of his eye and he especially doesn't have a clue why he takes the longer route home.
When tomorrow comes and he wakes up hangover from the party and probably in someone else's bed, he'll give himself the same excuse he gave the boys. He wanted to make sure you got home safely because it's the right thing to do. There was nothing else to it.
But in this moment, right now, in the stifling silence and the breeze that flows through the opened window's because the air conditioning isn't working - Wooyoung notices things that he feels embarrassed to notice, or maybe he noticed them before but never allowed himself to appreciate them until tonight.
Like, how nice your bare neck and collarbones look now that your hair is pinned up in soft curls. A thin silver necklace graces your neck. Or how the two curled strands at the front frame your face prettily. Your eyelids are painted with something shimmery which Wooyoung doesn't know the name of and your cheekbones are a soft peach color intentionally placed there beforehand.
Your glossy lips wrap around the ice cream cone and you bite off a huge chunk.
"Why are you staring at me?" Wooyoung can decipher the question even through the mouthful of ice cream as you give him a slight glare.
Because you're pretty. Is what he wants to say, honest and bare, but he obviously can't because you're you and he's Wooyoung. "Because you have ice cream on your nose."
His hands tighten against the steering wheel when he sees you quickly look to the side and wipe at your nose self-consciously. You blush a scarlet red from the embarrassment. Great, now he feels like an asshole.
Wooyoung clears his throat, "Why did you look so sad? Back there, in front of the store."
He has no idea why he's trying to make conversation with you. You two never do that, never did. The closest thing to a conversation between Wooyoung and you would be the arguments you'd have in the middle of the school hallway when he'd tease you for your braces.
Those came off as well, by the way, he can see the pearly white teeth perfectly aligned now as you speak. No longer crooked. Maybe he'd like to see them pulled up in a smile but that's borderline wishful thinking now. You smiling at Wooyoung? Yeah, right.
"No reason." You tell him quietly, slumping in your seat as you continue to eat your ice cream. You sigh with an eyeroll, "Just...prom sucked."
Likely thing to happen.
The key is to go to prom with your expectations so low that you can only go up from there but Wooyoung had an inkling feeling that having low expectations wasn't in your nature.
Besides, you were a jock. He remembers even when you were a freshman, you were already running with the popular crowd without even being aware of it, with the athletes and the cheerleaders. Prom night is sort of a pinnacle of the high school experience for people like you.
Guess it's a bummer that you look like you had a shit time.
He hums, "At the end of the day, it's just another Friday night. Nothing special. So even if it sucked, you'll get over it."
Maybe he wasn't the best at giving advice or comforting people.
You side eye him and he pretends not to see it before you quietly add, "I don't usually spend a year worth of allowance on just another Friday night."
Wooyoung cracks a smile, teasing you being a second nature even if you barely spoke since he graduated, "What? Did you expect a prince charming to sweep you off your feet so you two can dance the night away or something? I didn't know you were into that corny shit, Y/L/N."
He hears you scoff, cheeks still red as you roll your eyes, seriously annoyed, "Whatever. Forget I said anything."
Wooyoung's gives a forced snicker just to annoy you before his smile drops again and his eyes flutter shut for a moment out of pure frustration at his own stupidity, internally cursing himself. If shooting yourself in the foot was a person - it would have Jung Wooyoung's photo and name posted under it.
Why can't you just be nice to her?
The air in the car turns even more awkward and Wooyoung shifts uncomfortably in his seat while you continue to eat your ice cream in silence as you stare through the window.
He slows down in front of your house just when you're finishing your ice cream.
You crumple the wrapper in your hand, place the second ice cream on the dashboard and grab the small bag laying on your lap before grabbing the door handle.
"I hope," Wooyoung starts and when you turn to look at him, he's overcome with a sudden coughing fit which is really just awkwardness and the need to fix whatever the fuck he broke a little even more tonight, "Uh, hope you took some good pictures tonight at least because..."
He trails off, feeling like it was his first time flirting with a girl. Wait, what the fuck. He was not flirting with you. Not even a little bit. Wooyoung was simply trying to pay you a compliment. Simple as that. It doesn't have to be anything more. You don't even need to be friends to pay someone a compliment, in fact, Wooyoung is positive that regular archnemeses complimented each other at least once.
Unfortunately, compliments aren't the norm between the two of you, so whatever nice thing he says feels wrong.
Your brows raise.
"You know," He trails off, scratching the back of his neck in an attempt to seem cool and collected. He nonchalantly adds but his side glances might give him away, fortunately you're too much of a ditz to notice, "You look good."
You stare at him for a long moment, seriously it's so long that he almost changes his mind and adds an insult just so you two would be back in those familiar waters of bickering and teasing each other but then your eyebrows fall back down and a scowl overtakes your features.
"Yeah, right." You mumble and Wooyoung almost feels insulted for some reason but then you continue, "Thanks for the ride."
And then you're out of the car and already moving across your front lawn before Wooyoung can snap out of it and remember to turn the car back on.
-
19 and 21 years old;
"10 more minutes! Y/L/N stop arguing with that asshole and get back into your position before you're out of the game completely!"
Your coach is red in the face from all the shouting and you know what's good for you, so you keep your mouth shut as you run to your spot, thoroughly ignoring the glare your team's captain shoots at you from your right.
The 'asshole' that your coach is referring to is the referee who didn't count a player from the rival team almost breaking your leg by bulldozing into you - as a foul.
"-stole Eunha's position from her and can't even play properly." You hear a snicker behind you and don't even have to turn to know who it's directed at.
Despite it being only your first semester, you haven't made the greatest impression on your teammates (nor did you try all that much to change that impression).
So for the time being, when there was no rival team, you were the collective enemy in the changing rooms and on the practice field. A freshman who kicked their friend from the spot she had since she started college. A freshman who thought she was better than the rest of her team. A freshman who didn't know how to behave at times. A freshman that made them run extra laps because she was bad at remembering all the new rules at times.
And now, a freshman that was playing badly and fucking up things for the rest of them.
"Y/N!" A hiss from your right is heard and your eyes zero in on your captain, Jihyo, who is staring at you. "Focus."
You swallow harshly and give her a quick now before focusing your gaze to the front.
In high school, you weren't used to losing. You were a winner, it's what you prided yourself in. Failure wasn't an option when it came to football.
But turns out in college, when all the other players are as good as you, winning isn't as easy.
In fact it’s a lot harder than you thought it would be. Nearing the end of the first half the score sheet is still empty and it annoys all of the players and the fans as well. The weirdest thing is how ball is not even on your team's side of the field most of the time; your defenders did not have a very entertaining start of the game in comparison to defenders from Busan, who already look out of breath from all of the attacks to their side. Not to mention that they keep teaming up on you specifically.
You can’t pinpoint what exactly is wrong and why there was no goal to this point; half of you thinks it’s because you didn’t blend well with the team.
"Run, run, run!" Yeonjin shouts, when Sinb loses the ball and Busan’s midfielders rush to their side.
The spike of adrenaline energizes you and your eyes zero on the ball, running after it. Mina’s figure passes from your left and both of you corner the midfielder, successfully getting the ball to your side. You have it and quickly pass it to Yeonjin, seeing her signal for the ball. You watch her run off when a body collides with your own and the impact is so strong, you lose your balance, falling down.
‘What?’ You ask yourself in disbelief not understanding how you're sprawled across the grass again, slowly standing up. At first you're shell-shocked but now anger fills you to the brim when you see that it's the same girl who intentionally collided with you the first time, watching you with a smug smirk and then you're just ready to fight.
You push back at her and get even angrier when the bitch doesn't fall.
"Are you going to go tattle to mommy?" She asks with a mocking concern and you can’t hear anything; you even forget that you are in the middle of the game because your anger turns your vision red.
With a loud groan, you launch towards her and grab her by the shirt, screaming to her face that 'she's a cunt'. There are hands around you, pulling you away, trapping you and not letting you go even when you try to break free.
Jihyo's face is in front of you and you can't register what she's saying but you can see her turn red from how pissed off she is. Maybe it's better if you're not listening to her, if you can't hear anyone actually...but then-
"Hey, number nine! You better not fucking cry!"
At first, you think the loud yell came from somewhere on the field. You thought another player from the Busan team was talking shit. And then,
"Number nine! Crybaby!"
There's some laughter in the audience and it's then that you realize the voice is shouting from the fucking bleachers.
A teammate is already pulling you in the opposite direction but your eyes are glued to crowd sitting on the sidelines, the annoying voice insistently yelling. Crybaby. Crybaby. Crybaby.
The worst part is that the voice sounds so painfully familiar, you just can't put your finger on it. Who.
You're about to let it go. You're about to be the bigger person and not act like a total brute on the field, just let it go Y/N. But then-
"Hey, hey crybaby!" You stop in your tracks, head whipping to the direction the voice was coming from and eyes coasting over the bleachers. "What kind of hill did you roll down from that you don't even know how to push someone back properly?!"
Finally, you spot it. Him. In a red hoodie, making sure to stand out in the sea of blue. It's no wonder the voice sounded so eerily familiar, you've heard it screaming at you for the majority of your childhood and a good chunk of your teen years.
Because he rolled down the same hill as you with only a street separating you.
When he realizes that you've caught onto him, he gives you that smile. That grin that never led to anything good, pearly white teeth gleaming under the lights of the bleachers as he taunts you.
You blood pressure jumps so, you take a deep breath and....scream;
"Jung Wooyoung!"
#ateez angst#ateez x reader#wooyoung x reader#wooyoung imagine#wooyoung smut#wooyoung angst#wooyoung fluff#wooyoung scenarios
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Nene’s Dead Corpse and her ghost bf
randomly made a crap ton more sense to me
why?
fricking school (screw school I hate you (no not rly I’m just stressed))
Anyway I’m a biomed class where unit 1 is studying medical investigations forensic science style
and one of the things is like, what happens to a person after the body has been dead for a while (post mortem or sum, see im learning :D)
Things like algor mortis, livor mortis, I’ve heard of. In fact I’ve even studied the clouding of the corneas before, but it never got to me till today
maybe it’s cause I cannot for the life of me study forensics without my wild imagination giving me nightmares or just panicking when I’m alone but aNyWays
I tend to imagine characters associated with death in these scenarios so I don’t lose it in class💀
*cough* Nene *cough cough*
So as I was taking notes on the slideshow, some of the images of clouded corneas reminded me strangely of something familiar, but at that point I couldn’t tell. There’s something haunting about the eyes (or maybe it’s just my over-analytical brain loving small details like this) they’re GORGEOUS
LIKE
IDK THEYRE PRETTY
Maybe it’s ‘cause the true color of the iris is completely visible in all its glory, without the pupil obscuring it
(something like this?? A little vivid tho lol)
but like
there’s no
life
no reflection, no emotion…nothing (which is so hauntingly beautiful leave me alone I’m a sucker for this now)
it’s literally just an eye with nothing but color
and then it hit me…it’s exactly the look Nene had when Mirai fast-forwarded her time
you can see in the image it’s just her plain magenta eyes with a fuzzy de-saturated blob in the center…aka clouded corneas
And that honestly made me realize that in this scene she’s not—she’s not even unconscious
No she’s literally, physiologically dead
THAT IS A CORPSE HE IS HOLDING
she is literally a dead body this hits me so hard😭😭
and I can imagine algor mortis kicked in by then, her body was probably cold to the touch
so imagine how he felt, and I’m aware people have analyzed his emotions but just think about it
he’s always seen her so full of life and hope, and now all he has left is an empty shell of her, cold and dead with no life left inside
…just like him
the more I think about it Hanako is just an animated corpse
he has no reflection in his eyes most of the time because he is ✨dead✨
I mean Mei, Mitsuba, and Hanako don’t have a little white reflection dot like Nene and Kou
Or maybe I’m overthinking it and Nene’s eyes are just super reflective
even for someone who presumably took his own life, he probably never saw tsukasa’s body start postmortem and actually feel dead bc it looked extremely bloody ngl (I’m guessing he killed himself right after 💔)
and now he’s holding someone he cares about like this for the first time and I’ll bet that scarred him
and he figured out that never, never ever did he ever want to see his sweet assistant like this again, lifeless in his arms
and so after that, cue Hanako in his villain era who basically became a yandere the entire picture perfect lmao
and he was unbelievably adamant about it too
I mean honestly if I held anybody I knew lifeless like that I’d be scarred for life and crying for days
seeing the light drained from someone’s eyes is so interestingly sad to me
Look at the difference:
Happy
vs Sad/Determined
vs Depressed (ig??)
vs Dead
She still has so much emotion in her eyes
and then d e a d
literally looks like a porcelain doll
wait she looks so pale in the last image compared to the others now that I think about it
I love aidairo’s eye for detail it’s so fun to figure out
Well anyways thanks for coming to my Ted Talk essay atp-
IT’S PAST 1 AM AND I SHOULD BE STUDYING FOR SAID BIOMED CLASS AND HERE I AN GOING ON A TANGENT ABOUT A FICTIONAL CHARACTER’S EYES
send help
anyways excuse me while I grab a box of strawberries to munch on and cry my eyes out all over my homework before I sleep-
#hananene#tbhk#jshk#hanako kun#toilet bound hanako-kun#yashiro nene#tbhk manga spoilers#aidairo#my ramblings#my rambles#i literally have to wake up in 3 hours what am I doing#Yknow screw school Hananene is more important#i love angst#they’re so bittersweet#and beautiful
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Pretty Boy
Pairing: Josh Kiszka x Reader
Word Count: 1.8K
Warnings: SMUT (18+ minors DNI), swearing, needy subby-ish josh, dry humping, praise, fluff, josh being a lil sad (bc that indeed needs a warning), biting? like once, a lot of pet names cause i'm a slut for that, uhh i don't think there's anything else but let me know if i missed anything.
AN: babby posts writing?!? it's a christmas miracle! this has been in my drafts for literally ever but i kinda revised it and decided why the fuck not. idk if i'm really happy with it but i wanted to get something posted and i'm deep in josh land so this is what happened. heavily inspired by the need i have for josh to be in my lap. it's not my best and it's short but i hope you all enjoy it anyway :)
this is also my first time writing in second person and it wasn't as hard as i thought so maybe all my fics will be like that from now on, but with my inconsistency, who knows ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
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You were sitting on the couch, glass of wine in hand reading your favorite book for the umpteenth time when you heard the front door slam. The jingling of keys were heard as they were set on the little hook by the door and you peeked over to where your beautiful lover stood, toeing off his shoes with a heavy sigh. Josh looked absolutely drained, hair disheveled, cheeks flushed, and shoulders tight with an unknown tension. Nevertheless, the sight of him made you smile. He’d been so busy recently, putting the finishing touches on the band’s newest album, and it felt like he hadn’t been home in ages.
Josh trudged over to where you sat on the couch, his lips pursed in a slight pout as he bent down to kiss your forehead, then your nose, and then planted a chaste peck on your lips. “Hey, mama,” he said with a smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes and it seemed forced.
“Hi, baby. How was work?” you asked, handing him the glass of wine knowing that he could probably use it. He sighed with a roll of his eyes and took a gulp of the red in the glass.
“Don’t wanna talk about work,” he shook his head, running a hand down his tired face. You nodded, knowing that wasn’t true. Josh always said he didn’t want to talk about what was bothering him, but in fifteen minutes or less, he’d be venting.
“Okay, we don’t have to talk. But come sit with me, I miss you,” you shut your book, laying it on the coffee table before patting the space beside you. Josh flopped down on the cushion, sinking into the softness before you cuddled up to his side, head on his chest and arm thrown around his waist. His hand made its way into your hair, smoothing it over and pressing his fingers lightly into your scalp. His lips left a kiss on your temple as you listened to the song of his heartbeat, his body heat warming you up.
“How was your day? Hope it was better than mine,” he whispered, lips on your forehead.
“Boring without you,” you answered. “I put those shelves up in the bedroom, did the laundry, and cleaned up the kitchen. Just stuff that needed to get done,” you shrugged and felt his chest rumble with a small laugh.
“What a pretty little homemaker you are,” he chuckled.
“Shut up,” you laughed along with him, shoving his side playfully. “I’m happy you're home.”
“I’m happy to be home,” he replied with a hum. “Today was just not my day. Sam was extra late today and cranky, we found out that one of the takes for a song we recorded was almost completely unusable, Jake was being an ass, I didn’t get to eat lunch, and just to top it all off, I got a fucking flat tire on the way home,” Josh ranted, face becoming redder with each inconvenience he recalled.
“I’m sorry, my love,” you pouted at him, genuinely upset that he had such a bad day. Josh was the sweetest, kindest man you’d ever met. He deserved nothing but the most wonderful days. “I can’t do much but would a cuddle help?” you asked hopefully, pushing yourself away from him and opening your arms welcomingly. Josh smiled, the first real one you’d seen, his pearly white perfect teeth on display, looking just a little bit happier at the suggestion.
“A cuddle always helps,” he grinned. You readjusted yourself in your seat, lifting the blanket up with one hand and patting your lap with the other.
Josh got up before plopping himself down in your lap, straddling you with a leg on the side of each hip. His head burrowed into your neck as you laid the blanket back over the both of you. Your left hand moved to his curls, raking your fingers through them while your right hand slid under the back of his shirt, nails training up and down his spine. He wrapped himself around you like a koala, inhaling the scent of your shampoo and body wash, taking slow deep breaths and calming himself.
With his incessant need for constant physical touch, you’d found out early in your relationship that this was the ideal position for Josh to get what he needed to ground himself and calm down. Everyone needed to be held sometimes, and he was no exception. His arm tenderly wrapped around your waist as he gave you a squeeze, his breath warm and soothing against your neck. “Is there anything else on your mind, lover?” you asked, leaning your cheek against his head as you continued to rub his back.
“Just miss you, I guess,” he mumbled into your skin. “Feels like forever since we’ve been like this. Miss holding you, being held by you. Miss your kisses, touching you, loving on you. Just miss you.”
“I miss you too, Josh,” you sighed, feeling tears well in your eyes at the thought of him feeling so starved for attention and affection and love. “But we’re here now, and you’re off for the next few days, aren’t you?”
He nodded, hair tickling your face. “Yeah, wanna spend them just like this,” he hummed, completely and utterly content.
After a few moments he lifted his head, moving to rest his forehead against yours. His lips gently pressed into yours and he melted against you even more, your hands moving to hold his hips. Your lips melded together as he poured all his love into you with a kiss that said I love you, I miss you, I need you.
Josh deepened the kiss as his mouth parted, a tiny high pitched whine escaping his throat. His hands moved from behind you to tug at the bottom of your shirt. “Want it off,” he muttered against your lips. You smiled before pulling back, tugging your shirt off carelessly and tossing it behind you as he did the same with his own. He groaned at the sight of your naked chest and you could feel him grow hard in his pants from where he sat in your lap. “You’re so beautiful, mama,” Josh whispered before reconnecting your lips, his tongue immediately tangling with yours in a sloppy kiss. You swallowed the wanton moans and sighs that left him, gulping them down greedily as his hips began to move against you on their own accord. “Fuck,” he shuddered when his hips caught a particularly good spot.
“Feel good, sweet boy?” you asked, caressing his cheek with your thumb. His face was flushed and his eyes were clazed over with lust and love and pleasure. “It’s been so long, you must be real pent up, huh?”
“Yeah,” his breath hitched and eyes clenched shut as he ground his covered c ock against your lower stomach. “I had plans, y’know. Soon as I got home, was gonna make you cum on my tongue, then my fingers. Then I was going to fuck you, slow and sweet, just like you deserve.”
“We can still do all that, baby,” you kissed his neck, sucking and biting in all the places you knew drove him crazy. “But you deserve this, and you look so fucking pretty like this, Joshua.”
He keened high in his throat, the noise needy as his hands grappled at your sides, squeezing the soft flesh. “Say that again, please?”
“You like being called pretty, baby?” you whispered into his ear as his head dropped to your shoulder, his hips grinding faster against you now. “You wanna be my pretty good boy?”
“Yes,” he groaned, biting lightly at the junction of your neck and shoulder. “Gonna be so good for you, promise.”
“You already are, baby,” you said, and he was. Josh was the prettiest thing you’d ever seen, all the time. When he was on stage performing for thousands, when he was concentrating with his tongue poking between his lips, when he was sitting as still as he possibly could while getting his rhinestones applied, but he was especially pretty like this when he was sat on your lap, grinding his hips back and forth feverishly chasing that high that was building in the pit of his stomach. You kissed his bare shoulder, loving the feeling of his naked chest pressed against yours, how his hips rutted into you without care, how his neck and chest and ears were all blushed pretty pink. Your hands held his hips firmly, helping guide his movements, to grind him down on you just a little bit harder. “You’re always so good for me, Josh. So good to me. No one has ever loved me like you do, cared for me like you do, fucked me like to do, made me cum like you do. My best boy, the sweetest boy in the world, and you’re all mine. Aren’t you?”
“All yours, all fucking yours,” he gasped and lifted his head and threw it back, an expression of pure bliss etched onto his god-like face.
“God, I’m the luckiest woman in the world. Do you know how many people would kill to see you like this and I get it all the time, anytime I want,” you mouthed at his collar bones and moved one hand from his hip to cup the bulge in his pants. “You’re so hard, pretty boy. This must hurt. You wanna cum?”
“So bad,” he nodded, his back arching while he ground into the palm of your hand. You could almost feel him throb through his pants.
“Go ahead, cum for me,” you leaned up to capture his lips once more. “Just like this. I wanna see it.”
“But my pants,” he whined but didn’t stop or slow his movements.
“I don’t care, and I don’t think you do either. Now c’mon, make a mess, pretty boy.”
A broken moan clawed from the deep within his chest as his hips stuttered against you and a warm wet spot blossomed on the front of his pants, darkening the fabric. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he cried before slowing the movement of his hips gradually, riding out his high.
When it finally died down, he slumped forward and pressed a row of kisses across your shoulder, breaths coming out in heavy pants. “Feel better?” you asked, hand tangling in his hair once more.
“So much,” he smiled with an airy, fucked out giggle. “Thank you, darling. I needed that so bad, you have no idea.”
“Anything for my pretty boy,” you ran a hand over his warm face before tapping his hip. “Now get up and I’ll run us a bath, then we can order-in dinner. How does that sound?”
“Like heaven.”
=
taglist: @peachpitpearls @alexxavicry @spark-my-nature
#josh kiszka x reader#josh kiszka imagine#josh kiszka fic#josh kiszka smut#greta van fleet x reader#greta van smut#greta van fic#gvf fic#gvf smut#josh kiszka#greta van fleet#babby writes
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Felix reading was 1/4 of this and it's only PT 1 ? 💀 Girl........
Ik....ik...
Ive thought about this myself actually, I've noticed hyung line almost always serves, but the maknae line always gives me really little to work with, and it often is really really draining. At the beginning when i used to make the readings length as equal as possible it quickly dried me out and over time it really demotivated me bc with some members the words just write themselves. It all flows so effortlessly i literally just need to write (im looking at you changbin and chan). But for others like seungmin or han or even lee know sometimes i literary have to pull the words out of their "mouth" so i have enough material to string together a peasantly paragraph. Felix is also difficult one because even if he gives energy in the readings for me to read from its not rich at all and is very simple and surface level. And if i cant get any depth i can dive in i can't read on much else. Sometimes i really struggle and almost try to get something of my ass so that its not as dry and sparse. I.n is not very colorful in his energy either but at least i get a bit of material to work with. Hyunjins on the middle and lee know is a wild card i never know if he'll just refuse to talk or sit on a coffee with me.
So yeah i feel sad for the ones that look forward to the not so vocal members but thats not something that depends on me. I don't come up with what i write i just use what i get. And fact is i get way more material to work with for some members than others.
And for this one i really felt a bit bad about it cuz that one part is already the length of at least 2 other readings - but im getting so many messages i can't even type fast enough. My changbin readings overall are much longer almost in every reading, I've talked about that, i think ist just because i resonate with his energy the most and because he's very chatty in nature, paired with my interest being the strongest for him, i think that always results in his readings being the longest - that one definitely breaking the record. But im gonna put it that way - my readings overall are pretty long and detailed, and i already have put out MANY readings in a pretty short time and continue to post new ones frequently. So i dont see it as being really unfair because i put lots of effort and energy in EVERYONES readings and do them as detailed as i can & as long as i can. So changbins readings being longer, doesn't take away from other members readings still being long and rich.
So for the people that get annoyed at that - try to look at it that way - you are interested in Han for example - regular readings are half a page. For han I've written 1 page, for changbin 3. instead of getting angry changbin has 3 pages and han "only" one, be happy that you got a reading for han thats half a page longer than what you would usually get.
So yeah all that said, im doing my best with all the guys, and just because some members - or in that case changbin - get longer readings than others im not gonna cut them short just so that some people don't get angry.
Since im seeing many people getting bothered by that i wanted to clear some things up and make like a...statement, of sorts.
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I’m interested in what you think of her interview. I’m disappointed about him not trying to send a message about society but I feel sorry for how difficult the last act must’ve been.
About this post
Ended up being a bit long, so I put my comments under a read more ahshs
I'm also disappointed!! It felt like a cop-out to say he's not trying to deliver any messages, possibly because the social themes he did show in the story didn't work out how he wanted it to. Or maybe he thought the fantasy-esque problems he created were getting a little too realistic and decided to cut it back.
Horikoshi also could've meant that he didn't intend to deliver a message at first, but delivering a message -to the society of MHA- is what ended up happening (not for RL though, ig). But that is an issue in itself, since so far Hori hasn't left any impactful messages in the MHA world at all (at least no messages from the villains, who imo tried to voice many important issues in current hero society).
I don't think Hori's statement absolves him of anything either way. Horikoshi put themes in his story that he had to deliver on, and he did it whether it was done well or not (depends on the reader's opinion tbh). With 2 chaps left we're just gonna have to wait to see how he wants to handle the MHA-verse and whatever message is left in it and we have to remember its totally unrelated to RL too dhajajk
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Ngl, I felt kind of hollow when Horikoshi said he wanted to bring his readers to tears;; It made me remember Tomura, and I did not cry or get emotional when he 'died' in the series. I was mostly confused about what happened bc it happened so fast and out-of-nowhere. I still feel like that, which sucks.
Ofc there were many moments in the series that *did* leave me emotional, like Twice's death, but that moment w/Tomura currently stands out the most to me and that's what I thought about when I first read the interview snippets.
If Tomura really did "die," then his death should've been handled better. Same w/Toga if she's gone. Dabi and Spinner did rip me apart so far though
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Also yeah I agree about how Act 3 must've been rough for Horikoshi. I'm glad he's almost done with the series. I complain a lot, but it's obvious he was tired during many parts of the manga and needed a break. One example is when there were a bunch of blank spaces during the AFO and Yoichi backstory. or literally him just killing off 3 major villains all in 1 single chapter.
Working 36 hours straight sounds like hell, and emotionally draining. It's gonna be sad when the series ends, but at this point people would want the series to end just so Horikoshi can finally get the rest that he seriously deseves. Also Hori's editors man,, i don't know if I can trust some of the ones he talks about if im honest. Not all of them sound like great ppl
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Horikoshi: The person who reaches out to you and pats your shoulder and tells you it’ll be okay becomes the person who saves your life. So I think My Hero Academia might end somewhere like that.
This part reminded me of AM patting deku and bkg on the back,,, which did not make me happy,,, Idk if this was also a reference to Tomura (w/izuku),,, which also made me more unhappy sjfhdsjfds 💀
And also, by this logic, didn't AFO save Tenko by "patting him on the shoulder and telling him everything will be ok"? I'm serious, isn't AFO the first person who did this 'act of kindness' in the series 😭 AFO also pat ShigAFO's shoulder a lot and told him it would all work out while they were in the cave too 💀💀💀💀 i am just so done here man
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crash
so, here i am with a new one shot.
so before anyone asks if i’m gonna be posting frequently again or anything, i process things by writing about them. if something is running through my mind over and over and i can’t think through it on my own in my mind, writing about it generally helps me. this past weekend was supposed to be a fun long weekend away w my friends but it quickly ended when i experienced something pretty traumatic. i haven’t been able to sleep at all the past couple nights and so i started working on this. originally it was just going to be something private to help myself w the panic i was feeling then i started adding a muse into it and then i realised i was still writing about corpse without even meaning to, so i guess he’s still got me feeling musey.
anyway, i thought about keeping this private bc i’m still rly shaken up about what happened but idk feels like a shame to just let it sit on my computer.
idk if i’m back to this blog yet, i still feel indifferent about it. i’m signed out on my phone and was signed out on my laptop until just now and haven’t opened my inbox.
anyway. here’s the one shot.
word count: 1666 words (i’m not kidding)
trigger warning: car crash, panic attack
__________________________________________________
crash
Wake up. Wake up. Wake up wake up wake up.
The words repeated over and over in your head. You’d had dreams about crashing your car before, but usually you woke up just before the point of impact. This time you didn’t.
This couldn’t of happened, this can’t be real, this is a a dream, I’ve got to wake up.
But you were already very much awake, this was very much real.
The colour had already drained from your face, tears were welling up in your eyes and your heart had already sunk. Your hands were trembling, your chest was completely still, you weren’t breathing in that moment. Your body had reacted before your mind had completely caught up.
“Fuck.” Was all you managed to say as realisation had hit you. You’d gotten into a car crash.
You looked around you, wondering how the others cars on the road were still moving when it felt like your world had just come to a stop when your car had its collision. You heard your dad’s voice in your head, all the things he’d told you when he taught you how to drive, had - god forbid - you ever ended up in a situation like this.
You went through the motions as well as you could. You were in a state of shock and physically, you were definitely there, but mentally, you really weren’t present. You were having an out of body feeling in the most terrifying way, it was a defence from the panic that had overwhelmed you.
-
Corpse felt a surge of anxiety. He had no idea why, either. All he was doing was looking through fan art on twitter, he hadn’t seen anything that usually would make him feel like that. It just throttled its way into himself seemingly out of no where.
It was especially odd seeing that today had been such a good day. Waking up beside was usually something that put him in a good head space.
So he started to call you, you always made him feel better. But then he remembered you were driving and you were a cautious driver, you never answered your phone when you were behind the wheel. You’d told him in the past how tenacious your dad had been as a driving teacher and it had really stuck with you.
Just as he was about to hang up, knowing you weren’t going to answer, you did.
“Hello?” Something was off. Corpse heard it right away in just that one greeting from you.
“Are you okay?” He didn’t even greet you back, he already had anxiety running through him and the unsettling tone of your answer of the phone had only made it increase.
“I think so.” You were so monotoned. Corpse had never heard you speak this way. You were a lot of things, but monotone was not one. You were expressive, bright and dramatic.
“You think so?” He repeated in a questioning way, wanting to know what was wrong.
“Yeah.” You responded so plainly again. Corpse almost wanted to ask you who was he speaking to right now, because surely this couldn’t have been you. This person had your voice, but this was a person he did not know right now.
“What’s going on?”
“I crashed my car.” You said it to him so simply. There was no emotion behind it. His heart thundered as if a terrible hail storm had just broken out.
“What?!”
“I crashed my car.” You repeated. Once again so eerily unemotional.
“Where are you?!”
-
Corpse shouldn’t have been driving in the state he was in, but he needed to get to you. His emotions were running so high and he couldn’t comprehend why yours weren’t.
After what felt like the longest drive of his life, he reached the crash site. His panic peaked when he spotted the ambulance, immediately thinking the worst. But then he saw you standing to the side of it. You were up and talking to the paramedics, that was at least a good sign you weren’t seriously injured.
“(Y/N),” He called for you as he got out of his own car. And just like your voice on the phone, your movements were so robotic.
You were normally so open with your emotions, you were such a readable and honest person. When you were happy, you shined, when you were mad, you yelled red, when you were sad, you cried oceans. But Corpse had never seen you in a true state of shock. He’d never seen your fight or flight response. And apparently it was a stillness and unresponsive, the complete opposite to how you were normally.
“Are you okay?” He knew you probably weren’t, but he couldn’t find any clue to how you were feeling. Until his footsteps brought him closer to you.
You didn’t respond to him at all. Even words felt like too much right now. As he neared you, though, he spotted the signs of fear your body displayed that your words did not. Your hands and arms were trembling, your shoulders were slumped, your face was completely pale, sweat dotted all over your forehead despite it not being a hot day, tears were slowly spilling from your eyes one by one, your chest was moving unevenly as you struggled to breathe properly.
“Baby, c’mere.” Corpse didn’t hesitate to gather you in his arms. Holding you so tenderly against him. That’s when he felt that it was more than just your arms and hands that were trembling, your entire body had a slight shake to it. He knew you were experiencing true terror in that moment.
-
The time between your banged up car getting placed onto a tow truck and arriving back at your apartment felt like a blur.
You’d just gotten off the phone with your insurance provider when you’d heard Corpse.
“Are you in any pain?”
"What?” You’d heard him perfectly but you hadn’t once thought about how this had affected you physically.
“Are you in any pain?” He repeated himself.
“I’m not sure.” And you weren’t, but the paramedics had said that adrenaline would be coursing through you right now and adrenaline was the biggest distraction from pain. “I’m gonna go have a shower.”
“Okay.” Corpse watched you with concerned eyes until you disappeared behind your bathroom door. He so badly wanted to help, wanted to make you feel better, break you out of this state you were in that he was so not used to.
-
You didn’t know how much time you’d spent in the shower. But it was long enough that the sky had grown darker and the moon had replaced the sun by the time you emerged. Once you’d gotten dressed, you made slow steps towards your bedroom. Your hands were trembling more violently than before and your breathing was speeding up.
The shock was finally wearing off and reality was getting ready to slap you hard across the face.
“Corpse...” Your voice was so silent, almost as if you couldn’t form a word due to the air that seemed harder and harder to breathe as a panic attack started to take control of you.
Corpse might not have even heard you had he not been on such high alert for you right now. But he was, and so he did he hear you and when he saw the state you were in, he instantly got up from his spot on your bed where he was waiting for you and was wrapping you up tight.
You were hyperventilating so dangerously, your heart felt like it was being encased in treacherous clouds that tightened with every intake of air you struggled to get.
You couldn’t remember the last time you had cried this way. You were breaking down.
Corpse was completely holding you up. Had it not been for him, you would be a crumbled heap on the floor.
-
The both of you didn’t sleep that night.
Every time you were close to drifting off, the crash would replay in your mind on an insufferable loop and you would jolt awake and the panic would restart all over.
And every time, Corpse was right there to hold you through it. He didn’t sleep due to how concerned he was about you.
-
The next day was a little easier mentally, but a lot harder physically. You’d gotten so much emotion out the night before that now the pain could have your attention.
Everything from your hips up felt sore, stiff and tense. Every time you moved your neck was scary because it felt like it was about to snap. But worst of all was your chest. It was hard and painful to breathe. The paramedics had warned you about this. The impact to your chest was going to take the longest to recover from. You kept your breathing shallow, any other kind of breathing made you wince and Corpse noticed.
“You’re hurting.” It wasn’t a question, he was stating what he noticed. He’d known the signs of someone in pain. Plus he had also taken note of the bruises that had appeared on your skin, the colouring of them looking like a painting of a galaxy, all purple and blue.
“A little bit.”
“Mhm.” He knew it was more than a little bit, but he wasn’t about to argue with you. He looked over you laying beside him, grateful that you were still here, you were alive. A car could be replaced, but you could not.
You were flat on your back because that was really only the current position that felt even the tiniest bit comfortable right now. Corpse was on his side, one of his hands supporting his head as he leaned over you. His other hand began to soothingly run his fingers through your hair and you let your eyes flutter close at the touch.
“Tired?”
“Yeah.” You mumbled back, keeping your eyes shut and feeling exhaustion take over you.
“Try sleeping, baby. I’ll be right here.”
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Aot characters and their reactions to you with a new cat/dog
Desc: The Aot cast and what they do when you come home with a new cat/dog
Warnings: none
Pairings: Eren x gn!reader, Armin x gn!reader, Levi x gn!reader, Jean x gn!reader, Mikasa x gn!reader, Annie x gn!reader
Eren:
•He might freak out— but in a good way
•He won’t even let you sit down or anything, he would just snatch it away from you
•After they warm up to each other, that’s when he will ask you the questions
•“When did you get him/her? Did she cost a lot?”
•If it’s a cat then he might not be very attached to it because he’s more of a dog person imo
•But if it’s a dog— that ain’t your guys’ pet, that’s 𝘩𝘪𝘴
•He would let it warm up to him of course but despite the type of animal, it’s gonna be his new favorite thing
•If you two don’t sleep together, he’s obv gonna snatch that thing and keep it in his bed, along with it’s food because he loves it so much
•But it’s gonna be your job to take it outside, no matter how many times you both argue about it (if it’s a dog)
•The pet will end up hating him at some point tbh
•Like it would just be laying down and Eren would get all up in its face
•It probably bit him at some point, too
•But other than that, Eren would be overjoyed!
Armin:
•Like Eren, Armin would be very excited!
•Although instead of Eren, he would let you get everything situated before he meets the new pet
•I hc him as a cat person, so if you brought home a cat he would probably love it even more than a dog
•But either way he would still let you be it’s favorite because he would get too attached otherwise
•If you both sleep in different beds, he would let the pet sleep with you as well unless you aren’t home. Then he would most likely let it sleep on his floor or in the living room
•He offers to take the pet outside for you most of the time (if it’s a dog) because “his s/o shouldn’t have to do things like that”
•Armin also offers to wash the pet for you because he actually kind of enjoys it??
•Sometimes you would come home to him and see him asleep on the couch/in his bed and snuggling with the pet
•He then gets mad because you took pictures
•But he secretly likes it
Levi:
•Like Armin, he’s probably better being called a cat person. He’s more fond of cats because they’re elegant and that’s kind of his style
•So, if you happen to come home to him with a cat, he won’t seem very excited, but he’s actually quite happy about it
•At first he’d hesitate to show any affection, but when it’s just with you or by himself he’d smile at it and give it a few pats
•But if it’s a dog, he won’t really be fazed
•Dogs tend to be messy so he might “hate” you afterwards
•Not because he’s a total clean freak, which he kind of is, but because they require a lot of attention which he doesn’t really want to show
•If you get a pet cat, he might be a bit more delighted if it didn’t have much fur so it doesn’t shed. If it’s a dog, the same goes for it
•If you happen to get a dog, though, chances are that the only way he would give it the tiniest of love is if it was a chill dog
•Other than that, he may help you take care of it, like feeding it and bathing it, but other than that you’re on your own
•But he wouldn’t completely hate the pet despite the type, he isn’t that type of person
•What he 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 do, though, is scold you for bringing home a pet without him knowing
Jean:
•Okay, I wasn’t really ever attracted to him enough to write about him but whatever
•He would be more excited if it were a bigger dog rather than a small one
•Same goes for if it’s an adult dog rather than a puppy
•He wants someone to be rough with, so if you brought home a smaller pet then his hopes would go down the drain
•He would give you the same look as when he rubbed his hand on Connie’s back in that one scene
•But later on he would still try to give the pet the love it deserves because who doesn’t love a nice pet?
•He might help take it out on walks and stuff because he wants to see if it would play— if it doesn’t then he just wants it to get familiar with him
•He would also do almost all of the pet work until it finally likes him to the point where it follows him around
•But yeah, he wouldn’t be too disappointed if you brought home a new pet!
Mikasa:
•She would stay calm and collected about it
•She wouldn’t rush to meet the new pet— she would just let it go to her
•I hc that she used to have a pet when she was younger, so she already knows what to do and what not to do with one
•Since I see her more as a cat person, she would be a bit disappointed if you brought home a dog
•She would probably steer clear of it
•But then one day you’d just see her come home with sunglasses on, dog in her purse with it’s own pair of sunglasses, and just struttin down the hallway (bc she’s a queen obv)
•You may be a bit confused at first, but just let her do her thing. This is a rare you see her have fun
•She would suggest taking turns caring for the pet so it’s fair, and so it gets equally amount of attention from both of you
•She might post it on Instagram and be like “new child” or sum
•But yeah, she would be more calm about it
•But like Levi, she might confront you about it
Annie:
•Pretty much like Mikasa except she would take longer to warm up to the pet
•I hc that she also used to have a pet when she was younger— a cat— and so she would be a bit more familiar if you happened to bring home one
•She wouldn’t mind a dog, but she might not give it much attention
•It’s def sleeping with you, regardless of the animal
•I feel like she might actually try to avoid it because she’s just kinda shy and awkward like that
•It’s like handing a baby to someone— you don’t really know what to do with it
•So you just sit there with the baby in your arms, awkwardly looking around the room
•Yeah that’s how Annie is with a pet
•Basically she wouldn’t be happy or sad about it— she’s just… neutral
•I don’t really know what else to put about Annie but yeah, that’s about it lmao
A/n: thanks for reading!! Making my masterlist rn
Tags:
#eren x reader#armin x reader#mikasa x reader#annie x reader#levi x reader#jean x reader#aot x reader#attack on titan#anime x reader#idk what else to put but yes
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hey hey! it’s me 🥀 anon.. micheal x reader in 3rd grade ( being friends ofc:] ) 🙂 tommy’s daughter ( or gn reader any is cool😎 ) but reader beats up bully for making fun of micheal
friends
hey hey! it’s me 🥀 anon.. michael x reader in 3rd grade ( being friends ofc:] ) 🙂 tommy’s daughter ( or gn reader any is cool😎 ) but reader beats up bully for making fun of michael
hello 🥀 anon! apologies for the long wait, i have been doing things ;-;
but!!! i am here now with this so i hope you enjoy :D
cw: cursing
friends:
you hated him. you hated the small half-piglin half-zombie kid. it was unreasonable, he was your dad’s best friends’ kid. the infamous bench trio, with kids of their own. the legacy left behind, of fallen countries and terrible men, to fall on your shoulders.
you always spoke with him. sat with him on the bus, at lunch, in class, sitting. talking. more of he spoke, you listened. even though the other students came to ask questions, they never stayed. the simple existence of two of you, two kids, with the parents you had was too much.
the old stories of l’manburg, manburg, pogtopia, the infamous button room, the burnt mushroom house, the obsidian walls, logstedshire, the disc confrontation, pandora’s vault, all of it. every story, every tale, included your father. in history class you were stared at, you and the piglin boy. when students wanted to ask about the historical figures they learnt about, it was to the two of you. and you hated it.
the attention, it was never on you. always him. whether it was from students, teachers, family, friends, hell, even the hecking sheep that belonged to the fading soul of a long gone man cared more for the kid. not even tommy, your father, paid more attention to you. he was always out, causing trouble even now. tubbo and ranboo, despite their efforts to keep michael safe, had somehow ended up with him becoming even more of a trouble maker than the three of them combined. you would much rather spend time with the fading soul, listening to his songs as you sat on the glass covering a crater. he claimed it gave him inspiration, to sit above the symphony he never finished.
so, when you saw the small boy talking to others at lunch, you were conflicted. was it good, good he had gained more people, more friends? you never enjoyed sitting with him, having to listen to him speak for hours. he never even realized he was being annoying, causing trouble. so, shouldn’t this have solved your problems? knocked them down the drain?
and yet, you felt bad. staring at them on the playground, your soul hurt. you didn’t want to be like the fading soul, to feel like this. michael, turned to look behind him. the look on his face seeming like it was begging for you to walk over there. but you felt guilt. and so, you ran.
“ghost!” you ran above the glass, making sure your steps weren’t too heavy footed.
he looked up, from his sheet music and the guitar. “oh, hello. are you just getting back from school?” the area around was abandoned. after so many years of being near such a negative place, everyone left. deserted it. all that was left was the glass and the small, somehow still standing structures. at the very bottom of the pit was a sea of red, always growing but never moving, sitting dead yet alive.
“yeah. it was a long day today. and i need advice. but first, do you have any music for me?” you sat in front of him, pulling out extra snacks from lunch out of your back.
“music later, speak now. what’s wrong? do you need some blue?” anytime you seemed upset, ghost gave you blue. when tommy saw, he was nervous. more distant. you didn’t want him to see it, you didn’t want to drive him away. so, you used the dye for other things. your pants, your shirts hoodies, what ever could be dyed. all of it, a deep blue the color of old, burnt suits, used for a country few actually remembered.
“no, no blue today, ghost. i still have some from last time, so thank you. and i need to ask a question. if i do not like someone, should i help them when they are in trouble?” you laid back, the cold of the glass hitting your neck.
“it really depends, what has this person done? in the past, i’ve been wronged by others. heavily.” in his eyes, you could see the healing wounds that may never form, as he felt the blue wool in his hands. the memories of a father and a brother and a sheep, you could see them in the fading soul.
“i was helped, or at least he tried to help me. i didn’t like him. as far as my knowledge goes, he did not like me. he hurt those i loved. even so, he helped me. tried to save me. it backfired, badly. but he still tried. i owe him my gratitude, i wish i could repay him. for all he’s done.” he stared down, reminiscing. the ever living dying red shone in the setting sun.
“so, to conclude, you should help him, in my opinion. i think its good, to help others, even when they’ve wronged you. build amends, y’know?” he looked down to you, who was sitting silently.
“thanks ghost. can you play me something now?” you watched him sigh. you needed to think about what to do, how to go about this. slowly, you heard the faint sounds of a guitar begin.
“the cute bomber jacket you've had since sixth form…”
in the morning, you were ready. at school you pestered michael to no end, speaking when he didn’t. he looked sad? here’s some blue dye my friend gave me , its supposed to make you happy! it’s even the same color of that sheep you like. when the older boys tried to approach him at lunch, you ran with him over to the swings.
“michael, push me on the swings! after i’ll push you and we can try to knock each other off!” he pushed you higher and higher and higher. piglins are stronger than you expected.
for weeks, it was like this. constant talking. michael, despite his usual talkativeness, was quiet. it was tuesday, and you couldn’t find him anywhere. what if those boys were rude to him? is he gonna get hurt? he may be strong, but he’s small. you found him surrounded by taller boys in the corner.
“hey!” you screamed at them, inwardly terrified. dad had always said to be strong so be strong, ‘don’t be a pussy’ he would say (in a joking manner of course).
“the hell you gonna do, shortie?” on of the boys turned around, laughing at you.
“go away!” the boys chuckled again and you felt the anger flow through you. “fuck off you pussies! you cunts!” you screamed at them, using words you’ve heard your dad say. you pushed them over and grabbed michael’s hand. time to run. the boys chased you throughout the woods as you made your way to the location. once you reached the small forest clearing, they were gone. you started walking with him to the crater.
michael was silent before looking at you. “... why’d you help me? i thought you hated me.”
“i... i don’t hate you. not anymore at least! i was mad for dumb reasons and found you annoying because of that. but now, i know that its fine.” you tried to explain your self to him.
“i always talked to you because i don’t like talking to others. i didn’t want you to feel lonely. i know uncle tommy doesn’t talk with you much. he gets nervous.”
this was new information. “why does dad get nervous?”
“i think it has something to do with his own dad. he might be scared of being like him, disappointing you.”
“...oh. i’m sorry. for being bad to you.”
“it’s okay. we’re friends now, right?” he looked over to you, smiling.
you stared down at him. “yeah, yeah we are.” after some silent walking, you arrived at the crater. ghost was sitting on the glass.
“ghost!” you ran to him, dragging michael with him. “ghost, this is michael. michael, this is ghost.” you proudly stood, making michael shake hands with him. he visibly cringed at the coldness of ghost’s hand.
“oh, hello michael. would you like some blue?”
you all sat, talking. you told michael about ghost’s guitar skills and the two of you forced him to play you songs. you were friends now, and it would stay that way.
when the sun went down and you got home, your parents were pissed. your dad was on his knees, crying. he held you in a hug around your waist. “why are you crying?”
“i was so worried about you. don’t do that shit to me again, okay?” you looked up at you and held your face in his hands.
“...okay dad. okay.” you bent down and hugged him as the fading soul watched from a distance.
late post tonight aaaaa
y’know, i really need to stop going off track from asks just to write found family type fluff
but nonetheless, i hope you enjoyed
also is it spelt michael or michEal bc on the dsmp wiki its michAel but idk??
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hi! this may be a pretty long ask so I'm sorry in advance and pls ignore me if you want lol, but I saw your recent bucky posts and I just agree so much with what you said, and this "the way bucky's story was mistreated is emotionally draining" i feel that on a spiritual level 😓 I've been trying to talk about bucky's story in tfatws with a friend and she has had to stop me in the middle of ranting to ask if I was ok/suggest we change the subject for a bit because it gets me so upset sometimes and i just feel wrung out trying to make sense of it. when I first watched the show, after it ended i felt so so sad and i didn't understand why. i was sitting there like, it's a happy ending mostly, bucky and sam look happy, so why do i feel heartbroken?? and i really think it's bucky's entire story, and the big gaping hole that is steve and how they try to handle that by not handling it at all and just having people tell bucky to move on or that steve doesn't matter, when it doesn't make sense. even if you only see friendship between them, they were the most important people in each other's lives and steve's part in bucky's life informed who bucky is as a character, as a person. having them just try to basically sweep that under a rug and tell bucky to just move on feels so wrong to me. also, I kind of feel like it's almost framed as a breakup? which is funny bc marvel was so desperate to downplay stucky lol. idk. sorry that's off topic with your posts and I'm just ranting in your ask box now ugh. i just hadn't really seen anyone else on tumblr talking about the problems with bucky's story until i followed you so it's really nice to see other people have some of the same thought processes/feelings about it. so i just wanted to say that I love seeing your perspective, and your metas are amazing and so interesting, I spent all day thinking about the (bio)mechanics of bucky's arm after your arm meta! anyways, I hope you have a good day/night and I'm sorry for the rambling, like I said feel free to ignore this or only respond to the parts you want lol I understand not wanting to go to deep into tfatws stuff and drain yourself 💞
Thanks lovely for the ask. This turned out to be a long answer so I'll also apologise in advance LOL
I have many things I’m unhappy about with Bucky’s depiction in TFATWS, but you’re absolutely right that one of the major gaping holes is the avoidance of mentioning Steve. The series and the MCU is afraid to talk about the particulars of Steve’s absence, because:
a) they will have to acknowledge that what EG!Steve did was actually really shitty because not only did he leave Bucky completely stranded out of time (when he himself spent like 4 movies bemoaning this very sense of alienation), he dumped his burden on Sam without discussing with him, and he also left the Avengers completely leaderless. He is the only unifying force left in the Avengers, yet he just high key bails on all his friends to dance with a girl who he knew would have moved on.
b) they will also have to acknowledge that Bucky and Sam are entitled to feel upset and maybe even annoyed at his decision. I know we get told that Steve and Bucky “already had that talk off screen” but just because Bucky didn’t blast Steve on screen doesn’t mean he’s happy with Steve’s decision. We also never see Sam deal with the aftermath of what Steve chose to do. Sure, the story covers his hesitancy about being "Captain America", but it avoids addressing how Steve's selfish decision, which had massive personal ramifications for Sam, affected what Sam feels about Steve.
c) they will also have to address how his decision was completely OOC, because even if you take Bucky out of the equation, Steve has moved on. He’s had time to move on, he has a found family now, and he has a mission and Steve never walks away from a mission. Other people have written amazing metas on why EG!Steve is not Steve, so I won't rehash it here.
I’m not surprised that MCU put its head between its legs and refused to even touch on that subject because to actually lay it out in the open will not only ruin the image of their golden boy for non-Steve fans (most Steve fans already hate EG!Steve), but it will also have to address the hot pile of crap that EG created.
In a way, because of the way they’ve bungled EG!Steve, I’m actually kind of vindictively glad that Sam told Bucky to stop letting Steve dictate what he believes in. EG!Steve is not worth Bucky’s (or Sam’s) grief or respect. EG!Steve is certainly not the same Steve who broke through 70 years of mental conditioning on 3 separate occasions (okay fine the 3rd time was the helicopter breaking Bucky out but the biceps flex definitely helped).
But had Steve disappeared from their lives in any other manner, both Sam and Bucky deserved to have screen time dedicated to their grief, and not just them trying to manage the traumas of side characters. Steve was everything Bucky had to anchor him to the identity that isn’t the Winter Soldier. Sam gave up everything, including his livelihood and home and family, to support Steve. Legit I’m more upset about how Sam has been left out of this emotional journey than Bucky but I digress.
So yeah, I think my beef(s) with the series isn't that it didn't address the grief, because I think if I had to watch Bucky (or Sam) really mourn Steve's loss I would have HATED EG!Steve just that much more; but the way they've simplified both Bucky's and Sam's complex past experiences into something so...conveniently fixable.
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...that certainly was something huh?
One thing this show is going to always do is make me ugly cry til my head hurts lmao.
Anyways as per usual my "thoughts" ⬇️
Man I really wish I'd started doing these posts earlier bc it's fun to just dump my dumb thoughts on u all lmao. Like can u imagine me talking about earlier seasons or about rayanne??? CHAOS.
Alright starting off strong with Dembe. Hello. I love u.
"I blame him too sometimes." DEMBE! This single line made my mind go crazy with kid Dembe headcannons. Sooooo imma get back on those.
PINKY 💀💀💀
The helium scene is the best thing to ever happen on this show. They are children. All 3 of them. I NEED more Red/Aram/Dembe interactions.
Cooper calling Red "Raymond". BITCH WHY DONT YOU JUST PROPOSE ALREADY.
RAYMOND WANTS HER TO MERC HIS ASS??? NOOOOOOO STOP
Personally, if I was Elizabeth I would just knock the old man Red over, snatch up the letter and haul ass. What's he gonna do? Run after me? Even injured I have no doubt she could outrun him... no offense Raymond.
Agnes rocking the denim on denim. Queen shit. Iconic. Incredible.
How far behind in school do you think Agnes is at this point?
Not to be a whore, but Red and Dembe 😩 I would. Both of them. No shame.
Elizabeth looked sketchy as fuck in the hospital. Girl at least take off the hat.
Aram loves Reddington and it's so freaking cute. Lmao.
I always thought it was hella weird of Elizabeth to ask that little girl to touch her scar. Nobody wants to touch your funky scar dude. Sorry but I had to say it.
Not Elizabeth unloading her drama on this 15 year old girl. She's just like 😬 my train is here sorry.
I'm not gonna lie, there was A LOT of talking this episode. I may or may not have zoned out just a little.
This show at times gives me "indie movie" vibes. The scene cutting between Red and the statue is one of those times.
Raymond really made his bestie help him plan/help execute his death. Toxic.
Agnes said: #blessed🙏
Ressler sneaking out the hospital was funny asf sorry. Hes out running in the streets. Sir sit down please.
RED AND DEMBE HUGGING IM CRYINGGGG I COULD FEEL THE EMOTION.
Cooper briskly walking to go try to save his boyfriend's life. Love it.
ELIZABETH NOOOOO RIP MY HOMEGIRL IM CRYING. WHY DOES THIS SHOW ALWAYS MAKE ME SOB?!?!?! WHYYYY.THE FUCKING MONTAGE. THE MUSIC. RAYMOND NOT WANTING TO LET GO. OH MY GOD MY HEART. DEMBE'S "IM SORRY" AS HE PULLS HIM AWAY!! THE SQUAD NOOOO RESSLER!!
Fuck. Where does the show go from here? Cant wait for s9 tbh.
Some after thoughts:
Im fully convinced Red had a sniper or something there to kill him from a far, if Liz couldn't do it. Guess we'll never know :(
For a second, i thought they were gonna kill raymond tbh. Him draining that wine glass would have been a good send off lmao.
Kind of hate that Liz never found out the truth from him. But oh well. Imma miss her. OH MY GOD AGNES! AGNES UGHHG IM IN PAIN.
Okay. I'm gonna retreat into my happy tbl au in my head and try to sleep cause its 6am. Maybe I'll post some of my fun headcannons later bc everything is so sad right now. Also this ended up way longer than I thought lmao oops.
Bye bye for now <3
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hi, tee <3 this is a moot who's a little to shy to ask you this off anon, but how did you come up with the courage to archive your blog after 8 months? i've been planning to move for a couple of weeks now, and i have a new account set up and everything, but i feel conflicted about leaving my 10 month old account.
i'm about to reach 2k, which is something that holds me back; i'm not planning to delete anything or change aliases, but i just feel like it's really difficult to let go, even though i'm not making an intense move. thank you for listening to me ramble <3
hi bby omg im about to spill my whole tumblr experience to you LMAO jvhufdbv but maybe itll put things into perspective for you and youll be able to tell if its something that you still want to do or not !!
so im just gonna be transparent here, i had 14k ppl on mine when i left and that was kind of hard to leave no matter what anyone says. ofc its always about the writing first and foremost, but i built so many anons and inside jokes and interactions and i had a name for myself and stuff, and thats definitely hard to let go of bc i built that up you know ?? but then i looked at it in a more narrowed view than a "bigger picture" view and it was a matter of am i happy on here anymore ??
no
now thats partly bc i was just drained of writing hq in general, but even when i was happy to write for hq, the blog just got tiring. that blog made me happy and i was proud of it, so i was attached, but at the end of the day being that big was also draining me more than i realized bc i was dealing with ppl being pushy or expectant, or rly rude comments to rly hateful ones, and i felt like the interactions themselves werent as genuine anymore as they used to be. ppl brought up things about the blog itself, its stats, how my writing wasnt what it used to be, how i was just doing things that were "popular" to get notes, etc instead of what it was about — haikyuu
so i took a leap and kind of started a new fandom (tokrev) and that was my excuse to start a new blog from the ground up and it seemed less scary bc it didnt seem like i was starting over per say, i was just adding something new, but it still needed to built up again
and then thats what changed my worries tbh bc once i started my tokrev blog and i posted and built interactions, i realized it wasnt as awful as id been telling myself it would be you know ?? the interactions slowly built, my work was being read and slowly gaining more interaction, and overall my blog was just being built up and i realized that building a blog back up not only wasnt as awful as i thought it would be. it also gave me a chance to redo things better and take what ive learned from the last one to set better boundaries for my followers and myself. and also, it helped running a blog be fun again bc as ive said before, my blog in its smaller days was a lot more fun bc ppl talked to me bc i was just me, not tee whos in the top tags all the time (im sry hfbehfb that might sound kinda bad and maybe a little conceited but i mean that in the least self absorbed way bc in all honesty the size of my blog was rly what a lot of my asks and even some moot interactions were centered around anymore)
in the end, the followers you built up will come again bby they will, trust me i was sad about seeing all my hard work be "left behind" too but the restart is so refreshing and it gives u a chance to organize and set up everything to make this an even safer space for you. if you stick it out for a bit, youll start to get rly excited about the growth and progress you made, and the last blog wont be on your mind as much because youll want to start pouring more into building the new one, and i think thats the part that made me take the full leap and just drop hq blog all together
i was actually gonna deactivate that blog if im being honest, but there some extremely touching asks that made me rethink bc i didnt think my writing meant that much to ppl, so ive left it as an archive, and i think thats honestly the best thing i can do at this point, just leave it to be appreciated for what it is instead of trying to make it fun again and drain myself more
oferfirhgb this was so long im so sorry LMAO but idk i hope that maybe helped a little bit sobsobsob
feel free to dm me if you wanna talk about this !! dont be shy omg i love all my moots <3 even if we dont get a chance to interact as much
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your baby, she’s mine
mat barzal x reader
summary: Your parents aren't thrilled about your relationship with Mathew. You don't care what they think, but Mat takes their criticism so hard it creates a little break in your relationship, and he just really wants a redo. (This is mostly based on single by the neighborhood but I also added some 5sos Lover of Mine in there bcs ive been listening to it for like 4 hours straight) warnings: swearing?, age gap (18-22, not super big). word count: ~2,650 ish
It had been 10 days now since the incident with your parents.
It had been a week now since Mat started avoiding you.
You had been so amazing to hang out with, to go out with, to laugh with, to fall asleep, and wake up with. He really, really, really liked you. He knew he did. So why did he let a little bit of criticism be the thing that tore your relationship apart?
The two of you had only been dating for two months, but you had been pining after him for a long time, ever since your close friend- a girlfriend of one of his teammates- introduced you. You became friends really fast, which was good, but it also came with months of pining after him and having to see countless girls flirt with him and knowing about his hookups with them every now and then. So when you finally got over yourself and all but begged him to stop, he broke down to you and confessed that you’d been the only one on his mind for months. The emotions were hard to control, finally knowing that you liked him back- god, it was so good. He wanted to keep you forever, wrap himself up in your warmth and your joy, protect you, love you. It was crazy, unlike anything he'd felt before. But he was still caught off guard when he came over to visit you one day and was greeted by the disapproving faces of your parents who had come to make sure she was adjusting well to living on her own and who, as he soon realized, had no idea their precious baby girl was dating anybody.
He knew something was wrong the moment you opened the door. “Hey, baby. Thought I’d swing by before the game for some-” You shook your head, signaling him to stop and opened the door further to reveal who he assumed were your parents standing behind you with questioning looks on their faces. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
"Mat, these are my parents. And, uh, this is Mat. We're dating" he saw them exchange a look and your father scowled a bit.
“Mat? The same Mat who kept breaking your heart for months?” Ouch. His heart dropped to the fucking floor. Shit, he already had a bad reputation with them, but honestly, he couldn’t blame you for complaining about his past habits. They’d probably heard you cry over him a lot.
Fine. He had thought to himself. Didn't expect to meet the parents today, but I’m sure I can still get on their good side. That hopeful thought was gone a minute later when the interrogation began. Your parents seemed to have a problem with everything about him. Okay, yes. Maybe he had met you at a post-game party, but that didn’t mean you were only a starstruck fan. No, he wasn’t just hooking up with you for fun! Okay, he might be four years older than you but that’s really not that big a difference- you’re an adult, not a baby.
Okay, he’d admit that he had gotten a little bit defensive to your parents when they lowkey accused him of taking advantage of a young fan who was just idolizing him. That was a fucked up thing to say. “She’s not a child. She’s not your baby, she’s my baby.” He was grumbling under his breath but everyone heard. And oh boy did it start something.
Your parents- especially your father- wouldn’t stop, no matter how much you begged them. You were so young, you had your whole life ahead of you, they argued. You could be out on the dating scene meeting the perfect man to marry one day, not hooking up with the man who had hurt you for months and taken your focus away from furthering your education. “If I know anything about professional athletes,” Your father said, pointing an accusing finger at Mat, “They don’t want serious relationships this young, just quick hookups, and you should be able to see that by now!” By the end of the night, Mat had sunk down into his seat, quiet and red-faced, holding back everything he wanted to say. It wasn’t him at all, and you hated seeing him so defeated. The day ended with him leaving for a game, sad and quiet, and you practically kicked your parents out, quickly texting Mat and begging him to come back.
You had apologized profusely for their actions, but still, every day after that was tiring. He would barely text back, he didn’t come back over after the game that night and you knew he needed cuddles after a rough loss. He didn’t come over after practice the next day, and it wasn’t long before you received a text from him. All it said was: “I think your parents are right. I’m sorry baby”.
And, no matter how many questions you sent, that was the last you’d heard from him in the past week.
Mathew hadn’t stopped thinking about you all week. He missed you, but what your father had said was still gnawing away in the back of his mind. You were still young, you could be bettering yourself, he shouldn't be distracting you. He had broken your heart. You could do so, so much better than him. But he was suffering without you, and his teammates could tell.
After another long, tiring practice, Mat wasn’t looking forward to going home alone and spending the rest of the day thinking about you, so he was happy when Tito offered a distraction by taking him out to eat someplace that he claimed had the best food. He’d been a little confused at how much his friend was hyping the place up, and even more confused when they arrived at a cute little cafe. After entering, it didn’t take long for Mat’s eyes to spot you, sitting all alone in the corner, sipping on a drink and scrolling through your phone, looking just as tired as him, if not worse.
No. No, no, no. It's such a bad idea to be near you. As much as it hurt him, it was for the best that he should stay away and keep himself out of your life, and being alone with you was the last thing he needed right now.
But, shit, it felt so good to see you again.
“What the hell.” He turned to glare at his friend. "I can't-"
“You need to talk to her. You’ve been so mopey and sad and you sucked at practice today and we all know it’s because of her.”
“Wow, thanks.”
“Seriously, you’re dumb to ignore her. Like really stupid. Fix it.” Mat cast another glance in your direction, making sure you didn’t notice him yet.
“I shouldn’t.”
“Why not? Because her parents don’t like you? You know that’s not a big deal.”
“Yeah, it is. Because they’re right. I’ve hurt her and she deserves a lot more than me.” Tito just laughed and shook his head.
“And you don’t think you’re hurting her now by ignoring her? Go talk to her. She misses you. And I know you miss her too.” Before Mat could argue or leave the cafe, Tito looked over in your direction and waved. “Hey, (Y/N)!” You looked up to smile at your friend and wave back, eyes going sad when you saw Mat standing almost awkwardly behind him. Giving his friend a slap on the back and a nudge in your direction, Tito left, leaving Mat to finally talk to you.
He looked so sad, you noticed, as he hesitantly approached your booth. He was wearing a pair of sweatpants and a soft hoodie, one that you often used to steal from him when you had a bad day, and his hair looked just as soft as always but a little bit messier. As he slid into your booth across from you, and you could finally see him up close, the way the week apart had taken its toll on him, how tired he looked, as if he hadn’t been getting sleep at night. How his eyes, which usually only held joy around you, were sad and dull as if all the life had been drained out of him. “Hey.”
“It’s been a while, Mat.” You still hadn’t smiled at him since he sat down, but he knew he couldn’t blame you. You sat in silence for a few uncomfortable moments, something uncommon for the two of you. He hated it so much. He didn’t want to feel this wrong when he was with you, so wrong that he couldn’t even meet your gaze. He fucked it up so bad. “You wanna tell me why you went from being practically attached to me to avoiding me completely?”
He sighed and looked up at you softly. “I’m sorry.”
“That doesn’t fix it.” Your voice was soft, delicate, sounding like it was about to break, but the way your eyebrows were furrowed up let Mat know that you were upset with him.
“I know.”
“It doesn’t answer my question, either. You don’t have to listen to my parents, you know. We care about each other, that’s all that matters.”
“Baby-” He paused, not knowing if he should’ve called you that or not. It didn’t feel like he should, but it felt so, so good. “(Y/N), I know I shouldn’t have let them get to me so much but… as much as it hurts... they are right.”
“Right about what? The part where they said you're just hooking up with me for fun? The way they said I'm still a baby and I can’t make choices for myself yet?”
“No, no!” He held his hands up to calm you, wanting so badly to take your hand in his, but again not knowing if it would be appropriate to do so. “Listen. I’ve…” He dropped his hands flat onto the table, giving up any hope of getting to touch you. “They were right about how I hurt you. I broke your heart already. Over and over. I fucked us up already.” His voice was cracking, and even though you knew he wouldn’t let himself cry, especially here, you could tell he wanted to.
“Mat…”
“You’re fucking beautiful, (Y/N). You could get anybody you want. Anybody. You’re young and hot and pursuing a career, and I can’t hold you back from that. You should be dating someone that can be there for you all the time. I’m always busy, and I always end up hurting you. I do care avout you, a lot, but you deserve a lot better than I could ever give you.”
“No, shut the hell up!” Mat looked up. startled. He’d honestly never seen you angry before. “Mathew, there’s nobody better than you. There’s nobody else I want. And you’re not holding me back.” You reached over to take his hand in yours and immediately, Mat responded by lacing your fingers together, thankful to finally feel your touch after a week of separation. You continued, voice softer this time. “Mat, I don’t care that you’ve hurt me in the past. It’s in the past, and it was unintentional. I’m not upset over that. I love you, ya know?” Finally, for the first time in a week, a true, honest smile stretched across Mat’s face, lighting up your heart and making you feel butterflies as if it was the first time again.
“I love you too, baby.” You stood from your booth and slid in next to him, letting him press a kiss against your cheek, keeping it short and sweet in public.
“Mat, the only thing I’m upset about is how you ignored me for a week.”
“I know. Fuck, I know. This past week has been the biggest mistake of my life. Not being able to see you, touch you, even hear you say my name... I'm so sorry, and I swear I’m never going to let you go again because in the past few months, being with you is the only thing I got right. I’m so sorry. I never want to let you go again.” You smiled and wrapped your arms around his waist, tucking yourself into his side. “Are we good?”
“We’re good, Mat. So good.” He held you against him, just taking the moment to enjoy the fact that he finally had you back in his arms. God, he was never going to let you go.
“I still want a second chance at meeting your parents, though.”
You laughed a bit at his persistence. “Are you sure? Last time wasn’t so great.”
“I’m sure I can get on their good side. And if not, oh well.”
“Alright then. Woo them with that Barzal magic. I know you can do it.”
Next weekend, you called your parents back to visit, not telling them that Mat was going to be there. Mat came extra early, dressed nice but not too formal, in contrast to the fact that he had been in all sweats at their last meeting, with his hair styled nicely. It made your heart flutter, seeing the lengths he was going to to get your parent’s approval, even if it really meant nothing in the end. He smiled and shook their hands when they arrived, even though they obviously weren’t too thrilled. He helped set the table for dinner and offered some stories that made your mom smile. By the time dinner was over and he offered to wash the dishes for you, it was obvious your mom trusted him. “No, Mat I think my mom and I need some time to talk. Why don’t you go watch tv with my dad.” You smiled sympathetically, knowing it was really your dad Mat was trying to win over now.
So he took a deep breath and went to the small living room of your apartment where your dad was flipping through the channels on the TV.
“Okay, I’m just gonna say my stuff, then.” Mat stood beside the TV, nervous as your father’s eyes shot up to look at him. “I know you’re still unsure about (Y/N) dating me, and for good reasons. I know she’s young and you're worried about her in the big city, but she’s an adult, and she can make choices for herself, and she loves me. I love her, too.” Your dad sighed and muted the TV, sitting up and turning his full attention towards Mat. He looked him over, obviously trying to gauge something about him.
“Do you know how often my daughter used to call us, crying that her best friend ignored her calls and blew off their plans to hook up with some random girl?”
Your father’s words felt like knives through his heart. It hurt knowing how much you cared for him even before he knew it, but he continued. “Trust me, I know I’ve hurt her, broken her heart, and I’ve apologized to her so many times, so now I’m going to apologize to you. I’m sorry for ever making her go through all the heartbreak. I seriously never meant to hurt her. I never meant to hurt your baby and I swear I’ll never do anything to hurt her ever again. You can trust me to keep her safe out here. So will you let your baby be mine?” There was silence for a few long moments before Mat sighed. Well, that was all he could do. “Alright, I’m done with the speech, but I’m just gonna say that no matter how you feel about it, I’m still going to love her.” He was about to leave the room before he heard the man let out a small, amused laugh.
“You seem like a good guy. Mathew.” Mat bit back a smile, waiting to hear how he would continue. Your dad sighed, defeated. “I’m sorry for judging you too early. You’re fine.” Mat finally let out his smile. He did it! Your dad was okay with him! You’re fine. You’re fine. The words kept ringing in his ears. “Just know that if you ever hurt her again, I don’t care how much of an all-star you are...” He gave him a pointed look, but Mat had nothing to worry about.
“That’ll never happen, sir.” He added 'sir' just for good measure, wanting to stay on you family's good side. He caught your smiling gaze from the other side of the room, feeling his heart fluttering in his chest at just the sight of you washing the dishes and smiling up at him. “Trust me. I’ll be here for a long time.”
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For the prompts: 16 fluff with lashton?? it gives me very strong lashton vibes!!! or 12 angst if you feel like writing something more angsty?
Okay so! I’m going to write both but I wrote 12 first bc I was in that head space so I’m posting that now and then I’ll post the other later! I wrote this entire thing to cardigan and it’s 2017 Lashton so. *jazz hands*
12 Angst: Why are you awake
Luke is sitting outside on Ashton’s porch, curled up in one of the chairs, holding Petunia tightly when Ashton finds him. It’s late, probably close to midnight, and the L.A. air is crisp. The only light coming in this far away from the city is the light from the moon and Luke isn’t sure how long he’s been out here. He couldn’t sleep in the quiet of Ashton’s home; couldn’t relax or shut his overworked, anxious brain off, the broken record of “you’re not enough.” and “no one would miss you if you were gone” playing over and over again until Luke could cry from the frustration and exhaustion. He’d gone outside, Petunia close at his heels, hoping he could just breathe for one moment.
Luke turns when he hears the sliding door open, pulled from his morose thoughts, and finds Ashton standing in the doorway, rubbing at his eyes and yawning. Luke hopes Ashton can’t see how red his eyes are from the tears he’s been desperately holding back since he got out here. He feels bad that he’s woken Ashton up, made him get up to come get him, and Luke turns away, focusing instead on rubbing Petunia’s ears.
“Luke, it’s 12:30am, why are you awake? Why are you out here?” Ashton asks quietly, coming to sit in the chair next to Luke. He sounds tired, exhaustion clear in his voice and limbs as he leans over to rub Petunia’s head, fingers bumping into Luke’s and making Luke feel warm.
“I just. Couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t shut my brain off,” Luke mumbles, aware that his voice sounds strained and choked. Luke feels fragile, feels like he’s moments away from breaking; he has been for weeks now. It’s the unspoken reason he’s been staying at Ashton’s. They’ve been tiptoeing around the reason Ashton invited Luke to stay with him for a few days, which turned into weeks, which is verging on close to 2 months now, during the band’s hiatus. Luke doesn’t trust himself to be alone and doesn’t trust the broken-record voice in his head telling him that he’s a burden, a problem, and that he’s holding everyone back and they’d all be better off without him.
Ashton has been so sweet and kind and the solid rock he’s always been, holding Luke up and going out of his way to make Luke laugh and smile everyday. He’s been playing music with Luke and forcing Luke out on walks with Petunia and making sure he’s eating three real meals a day and that he’s showering and functioning. He’s implemented a rule where at dinner he and Luke have to describe one positive aspect of their day. Ashton teaches Luke how to cook and they watch a movie together every night, curled up on the couch with Petunia between them, snuffling in her sleep. It feels strangely domestic and Luke’s scared that if he mentions it to Ashton, it will all go away and Ashton will realize that he’s been wasting his time on Luke and will send him back to his empty home, alone with his thoughts.
Luke appreciates Ashton, always has appreciated Ashton, how he’s driven to make sure everyone is happy and healthy, but it’s starting to drain Luke. He feels like a burden to Ashton and a little like a child who can’t be trusted to be left alone. It feels like they’re dancing around Luke’s mental state, afraid that if they breathe it into existence Luke will finally crack under the pressure.
It also doesn’t help that being stuck with Ashton, this close to him day in and day out, has only reminded Luke of the crush he’d had on him for years. Luke thought he’d squashed and buried it long ago and moved on from his childish crush. Only now Luke realizes that this crush is still there, that he still loves Ashton. At fifteen his crush sent his heart racing, made his palms sweaty and voice crack whenever Ashton so much as looked at him during band practice. The feeling eventually faded and Luke just assumed that he’d gotten over his crush now that they’re friends. Now, at twenty-one, Luke realizes that his crush just grew up with him, so whenever he watches Ashton laugh at a joke he makes or whenever he bumps his shoulder while they’re cooking, Luke feels warm inside. He feels warm and happy and he’s only just now realized that it's because he loves Ashton. He wants to kiss Ashton whenever he smiles, hold his hand on the couch and curl up next to him in bed every night. He loves Ashton and he’s always loved Ashton and he’s scared that if he says or does anything he’ll lose Ashton and everything they’ve had the last few weeks.
“Lu, hey. Where’d you go?” Ashton nudges Luke’s hand gently with his from where its been resting next to Luke’s. He links their pinkies together, smiling gently at him.
Luke doesn’t even realize how quiet he’s been or that tears have been slipping down his cheeks until one falls onto the back of his hand. Luke can’t contain himself any longer, muffling his sobs with his other hand. Ashton makes a noise of concern, reaching over and wrapping his arms around Luke. Luke leans into Ashton’s shoulder, crying all his hurt and anxiety and unshed emotions of the last few weeks out. Ashton rubs Luke’s back, holding him tightly as he shakes.
Eventually, he runs out of tears and his sobs taper off, developing into quiet hiccups. He can hear Ashton humming quietly in his ear, still rubbing his back.
“Am I a burden?” Luke whispers. There’s a pause and Luke hopes that maybe Ashton didn’t hear him.
Ashton makes a broken little sound at the back of his throat and pulls back, cradling Luke’s face in his hands, rubbing his thumb gently over his cheek. “Of course not, Luke. You could never be a burden. You’re one of my best friends. What could possibly make you think that?”
Luke leans into the touch and shrugs. “I just feel broken. Like there’s something wrong with me and I just can’t fix it. And you’ve been so nice to me the last few months and I don’t want to be a burden on you and make you try to fix me when I’m broken. You guys would be better off without me in this band holding you back.”
Ashton looks at Luke, sadness creeping into his eyes, before he pulls Luke into another hug. “Luke, I love you. I would fix you over and over again if you needed me to but there’s nothing wrong with you. You’re the heart of this band, you know that. What would we do without you?”
Petunia snuffles her discomfort at being disrupted again by Luke’s movement and hops off his lap onto the ground, curling up at Luke’s feet. Luke giggles at the disgruntled look she gives him and Ashton smiles fondly at Luke. Luke rests his forehead against Ashton’s shoulder, sniffling lightly and tightly gripping the back of his shirt. It feels like yet another moment of domesticity in the long string of moments they've shared since Luke moved in. Luke’s heart aches from Ashton’s soft words, but also because he knows that Ashton’s love isn’t the same as his.
They stay like this for a few moments, wrapped up in one another. Luke feels exhausted and wrung out from crying himself dry. He feels his eyelids drooping but he can’t bring himself to break away from Ashton’s grip to go back inside to sleep.
Ashton must sense Luke’s exhaustion or he himself is just tired enough to finally jossle Luke and tug on his hand. “Come on Lu, you’re gonna drop dead out here and it’s far too cold and uncomfortable to sleep outside tonight. Besides, the sun will wake you up early and I think we both deserve a lie in.”
Luke lets himself be pulled upright, bending down to scoop Petunia up, and Ashton guides him back into the house and upstairs towards the bedrooms. Luke starts to make his way towards the guest room he’s been sleeping in, but Ashton puts an arm around his shoulder, guiding him towards Ash’s room. Luke lets him pull him in that direction, warmed slightly by the idea that he wants to be close to him, that he gets to sleep next to him.
Luke places Petunia on the foot of the bed, where she fixes the comforter to her liking and curls back up, snoring within minutes. Ashton smiles and pulls the covers back, pulling Luke down into the bed. Luke feels warm and happy in this moment. They settle into bed and Luke stares up at the ceiling for a few minutes, trying to will himself to close his eyes and go to sleep. He can hear Ashton’s breathing even out and he’s suddenly overcome with how safe and warm he feels like this, Ashton’s hand brushing against his, close enough to feel his heat.
“Ash, I think I love you,” Luke whispers, unable to contain the feeling inside. He’s not quite sure if Ashton’s awake or not, but he feels a little braver now with the reassurance that Ashton will always be there for him.
“I know,” Ashton whispers back.
“Not like that Ash. I think I love you.”
“I know,” Ashton insists again, rolling over on his side to press a soft, quick kiss to Luke’s lips, “I love you too, Lu. It’s too late to be this awake, let’s just talk about it in the morning. I’ll let you make your terrible coffee and you can wax poetic about how much you love me.”
Luke wants to be offended at Ashton, but who is he to argue when Ashton presses a kiss to his cheek and rolls them onto their sides, pressing against Luke’s back and wrapping an arm around him. Luke smiles softly and drifts off to sleep. Maybe the morning will be a better day, maybe Luke will write some music, maybe they’ll walk Petunia after dinner, maybe he’ll bride Ashton with kisses to let him watch Frozen again. Knowing that Ashton loves him like he loves Ashton makes the world feel brighter.
#5 seconds of summer#ashton irwin#luke hemmings#lashton#i write this thing listening to folklore and bmth's that's the spirit#so this is why i said cardigan was lashton#i hope it's not super depressing i wrote in a weird headspace#my fic#calumsclifford#my writing
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Salty(tm) thoughts about narrative choices re Serena’s now finalised storyline, bc the more I think about it, the more I’m beginning to see the logic of the choices the writer’s made, and I find I like what we got more than the alternatives.
I mean, Serena’s narrative pre-Bernie had already check off: professional humiliation, a cheating spouse, reconciliation + disastrous personal break up in a professional setting, the continued incorporation of personal issues into a profession setting, self grooming and physical abuse (+ being having her status outed at work), the supposed neglect of her family, plus shocking lack of friendships and generally just failing at romantic relationships. All of which is intermingled with continued and consistent confirmations of her failings as a human, a woman, a mother and a daughter (which comes w a heavy dose of emotional neglect), a doctor and a surgeon, and a colleague who just isn’t nice enough.
Bernie’s introduction and the possibility of being happy are wildly out of narrative form for the show, and the more I think about it, I seriously doubt it was ever meant to last.
There aren’t that many other options that match and raise the severity of Serena’s past storylines. Except for maybe killing a patient, there aren’t many professional things that could go wrong for Serena. And personal life wise, Serena is too old to conceivably have more children, which eradicates any pregnancy+miscarriage+sad birth stuff storylines they might have gone with if she were a younger character. And the only way she’s end up in an abusive relationship is w Bernie, and given the show already had on screen abusive same-sex relationship so they couldn’t very well go an repeat that on two different wards, could they?). And that pretty much covers the narratives they could have gone to keep Serena’s continued narrative suffering up to and beyond the level it had previously grown.
Thus, in continuing the narrative progression of Serena’s combined arcs, the writers left themselves no other choice but to have a crack at her family. And they only just introduced Jason so it was never going to be him and so: Elinor died, bc what better way to further traumatise Serena (without incorporating any kind of therapy into her narrative for healing) and continue to punish her for being a professional woman with a family than to take away the family?
But I find myself strangely grateful about this choice, bc the only other narrative the writers could have chosen that would have maintained the narrative trajectory and trump all that pre-existing suffering in Serena’s storyline, would be to physically injure her so severely she lost her ability to perform surgery with no possibility of recovery.
bc as painful as her grief is now, it is possible for her to recover and find some sort of happiness. It won’t be the same happiness as she might have found before, bc life will never be like it was before. But given enough time and therapy and support, Serena can still have a future that includes the possibility of some kind of happiness.
bc at the end of the day she’s lost her daughter but she still has herself and her skills and the career she’s build for herself through the course of her whole life. But if you take that away - take away what Serena has build for herself w her whole life: medicine - even if she still had Elinor, it wouldn’t be enough, bc she wouldn’t have anything of her own to live for in that instance.
Serena is, at her v core, a surgeon and medicine is what she lives for, and if the writers took that away, took away her ability to perform surgery, there is no why in hell Serena would ever recover from losing her future in medicine.
At least this way - with the storyline that they chose to tell - Serena does have a future that she can grow and heal and live into. At least this way she has hope.
#Elinor mentioned for ts#tw: mentions of abuse#tw: physical abuse#mental illness for ts#cw: emotional abuse#idk i'm kinda just covering all my basis here bc Serena's storylines have always been Heavy af#anyway it's late and I'm tired so imma post this bc i spent time typing it but its also highly likely that i wont reply to any interaction w#this post bc its draining and sad and i want to be happy (but i gotta write this junk outta my system first; that's what under the cut is 4#also i'm totes betting money on the fact that when she comes back they're going to physically injure her#Salty(tm) Squad 2k17#I am Salty and Sad: the red sea called they want their salt back and they left a compliment about the colour of my eyes matching their name#thinking about Serena and her narrative construction makes me sad and angry all at the same time i just want her to be happy and healthy and#she was never meant to be either of those things that's now why she was created and that's not what the writers ever intended on giving her#holby city#Serena Campbell: bisexual extraordinaire
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honestly i feel like the ppl who have snapped at me in the past for being too negative or w/e assume that like,, i expect yall to look at and respond to every single personal post i make like. im just throwing stuff out into the void most of the time i dont really get offended by the concept of no one seeing it. im a stressed child and ik u guys are too thats why i put most of my stuff under readmores so people only see if they want to (im not saying theres anything wrong with being upset if ur ignored during a bad time tho i just dont. mind it personally in fact i usually get kind of embarassed when its over hhbhhbbhhbhg)
basically when i ask for people to tag stuff whether its negative or triggering im not saying Im this perfect beacon of positivity and light im just asking for them to take the same steps that i take for other ppl to be comfortable and i dont,, think theres anything wrong with that :[
#original#d//on'/t r/e/b//lo/g/#this is importtant tho like#i make like at least one negative post a day now it seems and thats bc im mentally ill im not trying to#brin g anyone else down#and i ddont expect all of you to want to look at every single one of those posts thats completely fine#i love positivity and optimism and i used to pride myself on being a bright happy person who made others happy but#im just not that anymore and maybe someday i will be again but for now i have to vent#and its not a vent at other people so much as it is just for me to Throw my feelings into the universe#so if you think i expect you to take all the terrible draining things i say i really dont just do what youre comfy with#but im tired of people tryna make me feel like im this terrible toxic person that sucks the life out of people#i do my best to make sure you guys have the choice to see the worst of me or not but if ur unhappy like#u can go that is ur choice! id like people to stay but idk if readmores arent enough of a precaution then nothing can be done#tldr im doing my best stop making me feel guilty for asking you to help ease my discomfort just bc my sadness sometimes makes U uncomfrtable
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