#The romantic tension between me and the guy who could blow me into pieces

[palajae]

on my mind.

PAIRING... skater!niki x skater!reader | GENRE… figure skating! au, romance, angst, fluff, unconditional love.? | WC... 0.6k | “please, let me know what’s wrong.”

you don’t care that niki spends a lot more time with his girlfriend. 

you don’t care that all of your fans are in denial and still ship the two of you together. 

you don’t care that haerin posts even more of her and niki online in response to said fans. 

what you do care about is the change. the change in your practices, your dynamic, your relationship with niki. 

you can’t just hug him whenever you want. you can’t borrow any of his clothes when you forget your own. you can’t be truly yourself around him anymore, constantly holding yourself back. 

you knew your relationship wasn’t exactly normal, but it worked. it’s what gave you guys years of success and what you thought would last. 

but you miss his playful pranks, his sweet hugs, and most of all, the look of pure affection in his eyes. it’s not that he wouldn’t, that he didn’t want to. niki would do anything you asked in a heartbeat. but you knew with his girlfriend and being in a relationship, it couldn’t be the same. 

you missed your friend. both on and off the ice.

so much to the point where you actually stalked the two of you online. for the first time, you let outside influence get to you. 

you were surprised by the amount of support for the two of you (and the most random ship names and edits).

all the photos, videos of your performances, and the old comments niki used to post on your posted photos— always borderline romantic but something you two always brushed off as platonic—it all came back. 

if you didn’t know any better, you’d think the two of you were madly in love as well.

but you did. and the two of you probably never would be. 

so you call it a day and make a promise to never look up your name with his again. 

you surely kept that promise, until the next morning pre-practice you couldn’t help but see your phone blow up. 

all the links and posts people were tagging you in didn’t help. 

even worse was seeing articles online stating that nishimura riki was reportedly leaving you to partner up with his current girlfriend, kang haerin. 

your coach greets you with a smile, clapping her hands. “let’s get to work! where’s niki?”

you shrug, right as you hear scuffling onto the ice. 

“sorry i’m late,” niki’s breathless voice makes you swallow. “lost track of the time.” 

you (clearly) already knew what he was doing and who he was with. 

still, you avoid his gaze. during warm up you barely speak to him, and of course he notes it. 

after an awkward and silent practice, your coach leaves the two of you alone. almost like she knew there was something going on with the tension between you. 

after every performance—most practices even—niki would hug you and press a kiss to your temple. it was a habit, a good luck charm and a warm goodbye until the next day. 

but this time you start to leave before he even gets the chance to. niki catches up to you, taking your hand. 

“hey, what’s going on?” you dislike how concerned he sounds.

“i don’t know, shouldn’t you know?” you coolly respond to your partner. 

“i don’t. could you please tell me dear?”

you ignore him—his term of affection was not going to work on you this time.

niki was so stubborn. and so were you. ever since the first day you guys were assigned partners and were obviously not happy, he was stubborn. it took a long time to get the both of you to warm up to each other. 

so he takes your other hand, grip tight so you’re forced to face him. 

he calls out your name. “please, let me know what’s wrong.” 

you sigh. why was seeing him everyday, always having to act like this, so tiring now? 

you let go of his hands, looking down at the ice as your blade scrapes up bits and pieces.

“niki, we need to talk.”

a/n ▸ i did not expect this much love and support on this miniseries so thank you guys 😭😭insert are you ready for this in wendy’s voice during zimzalabim intro

part 2/4 | previous. | next.

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[hajimine]

perennial destiny — fushiguro megumi x gn!reader

synopsis: megumi does not like the concept of soulmates. he wants to be able to choose who he loves—and he chooses you.

word count: 1.2k

genre: fluff, soulmate!au but not really, established relationship, soft!megumi (this is so cheesy fr)

soundtrack: on a clear day by joe hisaishi

a/n: i’m ngl i actually like this lol so i hope you guys do too! tysm @rintaroll​​ for being my beta and for the song rec mwah ily (ew) <3

A light smattering of clouds paint the blue sky in splashes of white, providing you with a little bit of shade from the otherwise bright afternoon sun.

You gaze at the little ducks waddling around on the pond, following their mother’s path. Unconsciously, you feel your lips curl up into a smile.

“What are you looking at?” Megumi murmurs, face turned towards you as he uses his hand to block out the sun from his eyes.

Humming, you give him a cheeky smile. “Nothing.”

He scrunches his face slightly, biting back a smile. He's used to your antics at this point.

Using his forearm to cover his eyes, Megumi sighs contently, shifting the position of his head on your lap to make himself more comfortable. The added weight on your thighs feel comforting, almost. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

The two of you stay in silence for a while as you bask in each other’s presence, enjoying the moment. The dark-haired boy plucks a stray dandelion beside him, inspecting it closely.

“Do you,” he starts, hesitating. You hum, urging him to continue. “Do you believe in soulmates?”

You stay quiet for a while, pondering his question. “I think I do, actually,” you admit. “It’s kinda sweet—the idea of it all. I’d like to think that there’s someone out there who’s meant for me, y’know?”

Megumi closes his eyes, his eyelashes fluttering as he considers your answer. He's really pretty, you think to yourself.

“Don’t you think it’s a little bit dumb?” He asks finally.

The bluntness of his words takes you by surprise. You laugh, gazing down at him with a fond look in your eyes. There’s a small frown on his lips; the crease between his brows a little more pronounced than usual.

Carding your fingers through his hair, you watch as he relaxes under your touch, the tension leaving his shoulders bit by bit.

You settle on a simple question. “What makes you say that?”

Megumi sighs, “The whole ‘fate and destiny’ thing. I think not being able to live your life the way you want to is a little depressing.” He purses his lips. “What if you don’t like your soulmate?”

You turn to look at the ducks again, but they were nowhere to be found. Now, the pond was silent, and there were no ripples in sight.

The pleasant smell of earth seeps into your lungs as you breathe in. Never in a million years would you have expected to have this kind of conversation with him.

You didn’t exactly peg him as someone who would be interested in the concept of soulmates at all. A soft smile graces your lips.

“Well, I suppose there should be a system to prevent that,” you squint, “maybe they would make it so that it’s impossible for you to hate your soulmate.”

Megumi clicks his tongue. “That just makes us robots then.”

This makes you grin. “Robots?”

“Yeah,” he mumbles, now shy. “If that's the case, you really have no choice in your thoughts and feelings, it simply strips your humanity away from you.”

You stop running your fingers through his hair for a moment and Megumi shifts, nudging your hand with his head to get you to continue. Cute.

Amused, you ask him, “Well, what if soulmates are real, and I’m not your soulmate, what would you do?”

He plucks another dandelion from the ground and inspects it before holding it close to his chest.

“It won’t change anything.” He says, not an ounce of hesitation in his words.

“Wouldn’t you wanna find your real soulmate?” You inquire, the flames of curiosity dancing in your eyes.

Without wasting a second, he sits up, turning around to face you. He studies your face for a second, eyes traveling down the curve of your nose and down to the slight upturn of your lips before returning to hold your gaze. 

Megumi speaks, eyebrows furrowed. “No. the fates or the heavens or whatever the hell is controlling our destiny won’t have any effects on my choices. I’m not about to be another pawn in the gods’ game of love. It’s the least I can do.”

And you laugh, light and bubbly; ignoring the fact that your chest feels abundantly lighter after his statement.

“You’re really serious about this, huh?”

His cheeks flare up, the headstrong confidence from a minute ago now gone, replaced by the charming bashfulness only a few have had the privilege to see. 

“Well,” he mumbles, “I’m not gonna leave you just ‘cause some prophecy tells me to. I like you. A lot.” Maybe a little too much, but he doesn’t tell you this.

The breeze tickles your face. “Yeah?”

Megumi refuses to meet your eyes, but he continues. “I want to spend the rest of my life with someone I chose myself. Soulmate or not.”

It is not his words that make your heart flutter—it’s the quiet blossoms in his cheeks, the sureness in his voice. If fate was a human, you’re sure that he’d fight her with no hesitation. Heck, even if she was a god, knowing Megumi, he would fight her too, even if it’ll cost him his life.

You watch him twirl the stem of dandelion between his fingertips. He doesn’t blow on it, nor does he make a wish like anyone else would in the presence of the perennial, he simply observes the flutters of white falling from its head. 

“So you would defy destiny if you had to?” You ask, knowing exactly what his answer would be even before he utters another word.

“Yes.” his dark eyes are steady, not a drop of uncertainty swimming in its depths. 

The soft breeze suddenly feels a little too warm for comfort. “That’s awfully romantic, don’t you think?”

And he blinks at you, but he does not yield. “Well, I just think soulmates are awfully unromantic.” He says, the corner of his lips twitching slightly.

A genuine laugh bubbles out from your chest. “You’re a curious one, Fushiguro Megumi.”

The smile on his lips is a fond one. “What about you?” He props his chin on the palm of his hand. “What would you do if soulmates are real?”

“Ah,” you pretend to think, “you’d be my soulmate then.”

He rolls his eyes at you, but the tips of his ears are dipped in vermillion. “But what if I’m not your soulmate?”

You spare him nothing but a glance, rising to your feet before brushing the dirt off your pants. As you squint at the setting sun, a contented sigh escapes your lips. On days like these, you could fully take in the beauty of the afternoon sky as you observe the shades of reds and golds dancing in the heavens.

“Then I’m afraid I’ll have to leave you to find my one true love.” You hum, biting back a laugh.

The dark-haired boy scoffs and stands up, walking towards you with his hands in his pockets. Half a smile graces his lips as he reaches for your waist, pulling you close. With the sort of tenderness he reserves just for you, Megumi rests his forehead against yours. He feels warm.

Megumi smells faintly of the earth—a product of the hours he spent sitting under the sun with you—along with a hint of the cool menthol shampoo he uses to wash his hair. And together, they create a blanket of comfort and familiarity, one that you’ve grown to call home. You breathe in.

“I won’t let you leave.” He mumbles, eyes fluttering shut. His palms feel comfortably warm on your waist; gentle and light, yet sure and heavy at the same time.

There’s a playful sparkle in your eyes as your lips curl up into a smile. “I know you won’t.”

per·en·ni·al /pəˈrenēəl/

(n.) a perennial plant

(adj.) lasting or existing for a long or apparently infinite time; enduring or continually recurring.

a/n: as always, reblogs are highly appreciated! please let me know what you think of this fic, i always love hearing from you all! also: yes, there’s another flower symbolism in this piece lol <3

-> writing masterlist  |  taglist is in the comments

[amalthea-fictions]

Commander Shepard's Nickname

I had this idea after James and Garrus get that banter dialogue on the Normandy in ME3! Summary: everyone is trolling poor James...

---

He doesn’t believe it at first. Thinks he must be misreading things. But slowly, the pieces all start fitting together.

His first hint is when she immediately rejects his nickname. But, not because of duty or rules against fraternization, no. But out of a sheer lack of interest.

“You sure know how to fight, Lola.”

“Lola?” She snorts.

He shrugs.

She crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow. “You’re calling me Lola because…?”

“I like giving people nicknames.” He lets his gaze wander over her, wondering if she’ll play his game.

But it backfires.

“Let’s not, Vega,” she says, her tone strict with all the practiced sternness of a commanding officer. “Just ‘Commander Shepard’ is fine for you.”

“Alright, but it’s your loss.” He straightens when she scowls at him and adds, “ma’am.”

Then they meet up with the turian on Palaven’s moon. James had known that Shepard was close with a turian --after all, the crew that helped her defeat Sovereign and blow up the Collector base included everything from turian to krogan.

But something is… different about the way she speaks to this turian.

“We need to find General Victus immediately, then,” Shepard says to the commanding turian officer who had just informed them that this Victus guy is the next in the line of succession to become the primarch.

The flanging voice of another turian approaches behind them. “Don’t worry. I’m on it.”

Shepard spins around a little too hastily. “Garrus!”

The turian, Garrus, smiles ---well, flicks his mandibles-- looking genuinely happy to see her. “Amalthea,” he says, and there’s pure relief and joy in his voice. She’s beaming back at him as they take each other’s hands. It could have been a friendly handshake, but James doesn’t fail to notice the way he takes her hand in both of his, all tender-like.

After the mission, he begins to notice more clues. Especially how Garrus keeps calling her--

“Amalthea.”

The commander looks up from her datapad. The lot of them are sitting around the war table. Garrus says something about krogans, and Shepard doesn’t seem to mind when his hand brushes against hers as he points out things on her datapad. Not once does she scold him for using her first name.

The next day, he sees them eating together. He fixes his own plate at the mess counter and tries not to make it too obvious he’s straining to listen to their conversation. But-- yes-- there it is! He doesn’t call her Commander Shepard. Or even just Shepard:

“I’m sure Wrex will be more happy to see you than me, Malthie,” the turian says.

Malthie -- and that’s definitely a nickname if he ever heard one.

James quirks his eyebrow as he finishes his plate. So, no nicknames from Lieutenant Vega, but they’re acceptable from Garrus Vakarian?

He finds his gaze wandering over the commander’s body again one day when he’s had a few too many drinks in Purgatory. He’s in the middle of talking about EDI’s new body, and how now he’ll be even more distracted because the commander can also fill out a uniform like nobody’s business--

“Nice try, James,” she says, holding up her hand as if to physically shield herself from the drunken flirting. “But you’d best stop unless you want to get on the bad side of a certain turian.”

Right. Certain turian.

The worst part is, everyone else seems to know, too. It’s like an unspoken understanding, and James can’t get anyone to really admit that they’re together.

“Estefan,” he tries one day, protected from intruding ears by the loud sheering sound of Cortez’s drill. “What’s between the commander and the turian?”

Cortez shrugs, not stopping his work. “There’s something between them, obviously. In case you haven’t noticed, amigo, we have bigger things to worry about than who the Commander is dating.”

But James can’t just leave it at that. He needs to know.

“Hey, Joker,” he tries later. “You’ve known Shepard and Vakarian a long time, right?”

“Yeah, we’re SR1 originals,” he shrugs. “Why?”

“So have the commander and Garrus always…?”

Joker doesn’t look up from his flight controls.

“Always been badass? Hell yeah.”

James doesn’t get anywhere.

“EDI,” he even resorts to one day. “You have access to the ship’s surveillance, right?”

“That is correct, Lieutenant Vega.”

“Okay, so, you’d be able to see if anyone was… you know… right?”

“If you’re asking about the sexual activities of the crew, Lieutenant Vega,” EDI says, “then yes, I have logged each romantic relationship aboard the Normandy and linked them to each crew member’s individual health logs. Shepard says this is a breach of privacy, but Professor Solus notes that it is necessary to ensure crewmember health. Therefore the moral ambiguity of the action is justified by the potential benefits of preventing sexually transmitted infections and monitoring vitals aboard the ship…”

She goes on and on about crew vitals and moral justifications.

So, great. Even the AI is complicit in stonewalling him.

Is it just like… a weird fling? Sexual tension from saving the world together so many times? Or are they together together?

And then one day he and Garrus end up in the mess hall together, bantering. It’s a friendly conversation, at first, seeing who can out-brag the other: who’s done bigger and better things (a ‘who-has-the-bigger-quad competition,’ as Wrex says).

“I kind of tracked down this rogue Spectre named Saren and stopped a Reaper from destroying the Citadel,” Garrus says.

James rolls his eyes. “That doesn’t count. You were with Shepard.”

But then Garrus gives James a look: his eyes gleam the way a predator’s would when their prey is trapped in a corner.

“That’s right, Vega,” Garrus smirks, and speaks slowly, dragging out his next words. “I’ve always been with Shepard. Right from the very beginning.”

James blinks. Once. Twice.

Has-- has everyone been trolling him--

Just so Garrus can rub in the fact that they’re together??

“Wait a minute,” he says.

But before he can ask anything else, the commander herself enters the room.

“What’s going on here, boys?”

Garrus smiles at her. “Oh, don’t mind us,” he says, eyeing James. “Vega and I were just...comparing our adventures.”

Shepard quirks her eyebrows. “Uh-huh. Well. I’ll let you get back to it, then.”

But before going about her business, she crosses the mess hall to the turian. “I have some free time later,” she says to him, her voice low enough that James knows it’s only meant for Garrus but loud enough for him to hear. “Meet me in my cabin after?”

“You know I’ll be there.”

She stands on her toes and kisses him on the mandible.

And when she walks away, James swears the damn turian is smirking knowingly at him.

[lucysometimeswrites]

Hey can you please make a award season one but for a latina reader, if you would like you can keep the tom element. Sorry I'm asking again I accidentally deleted the last ask I made. I love your writing, you are amazing.❤️☺️

thank you thank you so much ur so sweet and of course! here you go and i hope you like it :) absolutely loved writing for latina!reader 

Awards Season (latina!reader)

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

“Here to present the award for Best Actress in a Leading Role, please welcome Meryl Streep!” the host announced. A roar came from the audience at the mention of her name, the very acclaimed actress welcoming the attention and making her way to the microphone.

“Oh, stop it” she said and waved them away, earning a laugh and even more cheering from the theatre. “If I’m honest, I really considered not presenting this award because it breaks me inside to give the Oscar to someone else when it’s rightfully mine” she said in a funny, raspy evil voice, resembling a witch, “But you know, sharing is caring or whatever. Alright let’s get to it.” she continued dejectedly, still joking.

“This year, we have been blessed with beautiful films and, along with them, incredible performances from beautiful and talented actresses. Viola Davis, your abilities to embody different characters and raise awareness to ongoing issues in society has always amazed us, and it does once again in Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom”, Meryl announced, the camera going to Viola who was sitting about 10 seats to my left, the audience (including me) applauding and praising her. Literally all of her performances are incredible.

Could I still believe I was here? Definitely not, and not any time soon. From small skits to my big break with Tom Holland in a stupid rom-com that I didn’t even want to make, to now. Tom knows it’s nothing against him, it’s just that I haven’t learned to appreciate romantic comedies the way he has, but the thing I loved most from doing it was finishing it with Tom. He had become such an important person in my life since that moment, what with guiding me through the newfound world of fame and being there for me when I joined the Marvel franchise, it was just more than I could ever dream of. Now I sit here at the freaking Oscars, with Tom Holland as my date, and having done one of the greatest films ever, nothing could keep the smile off my face. Or the nerves.

 My leg kept bouncing up and down, a nervous action I often did and one that the guy beside me had caught on to real quick when we first met. His warm hand gently squeezed my thigh, and I turned to look at him a little surprised.

“Hey, it’s okay” he softly said, his gaze soft and comforting.

“I didn’t even realize I was doing it” I answered in the same tone, whispering a thank you and letting my hand rest on top of his, weirdly interlocking our fingers. 

Meryl turned to where Olivia Colman was sitting, “Your Majesty,” she started, referencing her portrayals of royalty and causing her to chuckle, “your moving performances have always left us wanting more, and I’m sure that is what I and everyone felt when we saw you in The Father” a big smile broke out on her face, and cheering ensued once more for our queen, or at least one of mine.

“Aging is some we all go through...unfortunately,” Meryl uttered into the mic, touching up her almost white hair, “and you, Cynthia Erivo, made us relate to your character this way with your brilliant acting in Reaching 39″, that woman is simply amazing, I thought as I clapped and cheered with the audience.

“My dear Kate,” the camera panned to Kate Winslet, who just stared fondly at the woman on the stage, “watching you grow as an actress has been one of the pleasures of my life and you reach new heights both professionally and literally in Misdemeanors”, she is such an icon, oh my.

Finally, Meryl Streep turned to look at me in the front row with a grin on her face, and I quickly got into “camera mode”, as I like to call it. I sat up straighter, looking at her with gentle eyes and smile. 

“Señorita Y/N Y/L,” she started with the heavily accented Spanish word for Ms., “with your entrance into the world of filmmaking, you have set new expectations for all of us to reach. Even though this is your first nomination, I feel in my heart it won’t be the last, and we can’t wait to see more of you like we saw with your extraordinary performance in Paraíso” she finished, bringing a big smile to my face at her words. Turning to the camera, I became a bit shy and gave a small wave, feeling Tom squeeze my hand in comfort and another hand on my shoulder from behind. I turned to see Salma Hayek, one of my co-stars in the film, who gave me a strong nod and smile, loudly saying “Eso!” as a cheer for me.

“And the Oscar goes too...” ayyyyy no ay no que nervios que nervios que nervios me muero- all of this going through my head repeatedly but having to put on a smile and a calm façade for the camera was exhausting. Tranquila, tranquila, si no ganas está bien igual solo el hecho de estar aquí ya es lo más-

“Y/N Y/L, Paraíso!” Meryl announced, and all I heard were screams and loud clapping from around me. 

Shocked, I looked up with wide eyes and my jaw going slack a little. I felt a buzz fill my body and the idol on the stage beckoned me up, when I realized I hadn’t moved. I slowly stood up and instantly turned to Tom who quickly pulled me into his arms with a strong hug and whispering in my year, “I knew it! I knew you would do it darling. I’m so so proud of you babe, go get your award!” not giving me a chance to answer as he gave me a quick kiss and turned me around in the direction of the stage. Still in a bit of a daze, I didn’t see Salma, Eugenio (Derbez), and Benicio (del Toro) make their way to me, ambushing me in a group hug as they started jumping around and sort of with me, chanting “EH! EH! EH!” like Latinos at a party and causing me to laugh and come back to my senses. I hugged them all and continued to the stairs, stopping to hug my directors Guillermo del Toro and Alfonso Cuarón. 

I lifted my dress as I ascended the steps, and in true nervous fashion, stumbled and almost face planted in front of thousands of people. 

“Uy, mierda” I chuckled to myself, and accepted the help of none other than Chris Evans who lent his arm for the remaining steps. I thanked him with a smile and after his Congrats!, I made my way to Meryl who held the famous award in her hands. She handed it to me and pulled me into her embrace, saying “Beautiful job, sweetheart, you’re amazing”, and all I could answer was “Oh my, thank you so much, you’re the amazing one”, sharing a laugh with her and standing in front of the mic.

I looked out into the audience, who were still giving me a standing ovation. Almost like a camera in my head, I tried to ingrain this moment in my mind and took a deep breath, starting my speech.

“God, I really hope I don’t forget any words in English right now” I said with a breathless laugh, inciting one from the people below me. “Thank you so much. Thank you to...um...so many people. To the Academy for this great, great honor. To my fellow nominees for inspiring me every single day. Being in the same room as you is already insane, let alone being nominated with you, it’s just- it’s truly out of this world. Viola, Olivia, Kate, Cynthia, you are my literal idols and if I could physically cut this Oscar into five pieces,” I said as I made a motion of cutting the award and humoured the audience, “I would give a piece to all of you. Um, thank you to my team, my agent, Victoria, te adoro y te agradezco for believing in me and helping me live out my dream. Sorry, I’m probably gonna switch between languages during this.” I said with a laugh. 

“Paraíso was a project that, for me, came out of nowhere. But for my extraordinary directors los señores Guillermo del Toro and Alfonso Cuarón, it was a life’s work so to you, gracias por darme la oportunidad de darle vida a Marielos and for giving me the experience of a lifetime. Salma, Eugenio, Benicio, Gael, and all the cast and crew, thank you for becoming my second family and supporting me every step of the way. It has been my honor to work with you” I said with a hand on my chest, showing that I was speaking from my heart and smiling at the kisses and cheers sent to me from them, hearing a crazed Te amamos! from Eugenio. It eased the tension in my body which I was incredibly thankful for. 

“I also want to thank-” I stopped, getting a little choked up, “ha, sorry, it’s my family that couldn’t be here” I said, a wave of claps and cheering in comfort came from the audience. Quickly composing myself, I continued, “Ya, okay. All the way back home, lo hice! Familia, les dije que no les iba a agradecer si me ganaba un Oscar algún día por no creer en mi y hoy es ese día, pero no me lo perdonaría si no les agradezco. Gracias por apoyarme a pesar de que yo sé que les dio un ataque que quisiera ser actriz. Gracias por siempre estar ahí para mi, por quererme incondicionalmente y por enseñarme que trabajando duro todo se puede lograr. Los amo infinitamente.” I finished, with tears threatening to roll down my eyes. I tilted my head to the sky to prevent them from falling, and with a deep breath I turned to Tom who had his hands in a prayer stance while looking intently at me, the same smile from before still gracing his face.

“Tommy...” I started, and the audience audibly awed at the nickname, “Oh, you don’t even know what I’m gonna say to him” I said with narrowed eyes, but my gaze found my love once more.

“Thank you so much for being my rock ever since we met. I’m beyond thankful for you and all you do for me, baby. You make me the happiest and thank you for pushing me to do things that scare me. For being there for me in case I fall and for being my person. Te amo, amor.” I blowed him a kiss which he caught and jokingly used to wipe his tears, making me and the other celebrities laugh.

Please wrap up, I read from the screen, and let out and “Ay, perdón! I gotta wrap up sorry sorry” hurriedly finishing up my speech. 

“Lastly, this award goes out to all the Latina girls out there with big dreams. Nunca se den por vencidas. No dejen que nadie les diga que no porque de que se puede, se puede. Querer es poder! I love you guys, my fans oh my gosh, thank you thank you, gracias!” I rushed out, raising the award to the air with one last big smile as Meryl guided me backstage to answer some questions. Just before I was off sight, I turned and looked out to the stage once more.

Lo logré...

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

once again, disclaimer, movie names are mostly fictitious. feedback and requests always welcome!

[ships-bynoa]

The Titans are almost back, bitches. aka 3x06

Guys, literally every time the titans are together-or even paired up-the episode gets ten times better, but in 6 episodes there is simply not enough Kory and Gar. I can easily forget that when I’m basking in the episode they are in, especially when they’re giving us family dynamics.

Kory:

“You’re not mad that I left. You’re mad I came back.” Kory’s face tells us Blackfire is right on the money, and who would know her better than her sister?

So, Kory, oh boy. Our girl is on edge. She is slowly unraveling and is super vulnerable and raw with Kom around and little sister is going to exploit it and her guilt, which I think she’s carrying a lot of. So far their dynamic has been fascinating because there’s so much to read between them and so many accusations being flung back and forth, from both. From Kory; you sense guilt and even contempt and from Kom there’s envy and resentment, but also there’s a sense of idealization for her older sister, too, which of course, with younger siblings, there always is an element of that. And as an older sibling, there is always an unspoken and sometimes spoken responsibility placed on them for their younger siblings. Parents often don’t realize it, but they can create a lot of tension within siblingships by assigning roles.

They remember home and family very differently, which is often the case, too. Kom was often thrown in the pit and to that, Kory attributes her sister’s constant rebellion as the reason, and yet, Kory herself was a bit of a rule breaker, sleeping with her guard, Fiddei.

Kory was being suffocated by the laws and customs of her home planet; one could say she rebelled by going on a mission, to escape her duties. Home did neither of them any favors because while one rebelled because she did not fit in, the one who did fit in was dying inside, surrounded by little robots and becoming one herself. Being told what to eat, wear and who to love or be friends with is yikes.

I was thinking Kom began her game of manipulation in the bunker, but she really started before that when she sent Fiddei to bring Kory home when she probably intended to kill him all along. After all she would’ve castrated him if she’d had the chance to for sleeping with Kory in the first place. Shortly after Fiddei’s death, Kory flamed out. No powers. Emotionally wrung out from the news her family was dead and now the culprit is here. These two know each other very well and know exactly how to get underneath each other’s skin. Right now Kom is getting underneath Kory’s and our girl is losing patience fast. 

I’m wondering when exactly Dick will tune into Kory’s anxiety-ridden state and step in to support.

Ultimately, I just want to see what truly happened to the girls on their planet and how we have the versions we have now. Like, Kory said to Rachel, “No one is born good or bad, we are defined by our choices.” I get the feeling Kory has given Kom so many chances to make a different choice and has become disillusioned, meanwhile Kom believes nothing she does will give her the respect she feels she deserves anyway, so she may as well blow shit up, figuratively and literally. At least then she’ll have Kory’s attention.

Gar: 

Gar losing it on Dick was so cathartic and yet he could’ve gone much further, considering Dick abandoned him last season to go jail and hallucinate Bruce. It ultimately led to Gar (and Conner) being kidnapped and experimented on by Mercy. It’s actually all the adults fault this happened, but as the leader promoting his family everywhere he goes, he needs to keep his eye on the ball. He would know if he spent five minutes at home with them that Gar is struggling. Last season Gar was #OperationSaveTitans and this season he’s #ThisFamilyIsDying. He’s doing what the adults should be doing, or at least leading the charge on it. He’s the glue, but who will hold him together?

He’s carrying too much emotional responsibility and Dick’s dismissal, because he is fully locked into Gotham and being Batman, makes me mad. Get your head in the game, Grayson. Gotham is going to eat your family while you retread the nostalgic steps of your past.

We all know Dick’s not good at expressing himself emotionally, though he’s usually forced to express something when talking to or being confronted by Kory, so I was proud of him for giving Gar the floor to speak. I just wish Gar spoke about himself, but then again, he needs more time and consistent offers to be heard. I’m happy Dick followed up the conversation up with a bonding/training session. There was definitely pride in Dick’s face because Gar really has come a long way in this group, but he needs MORE SCREEN TIME. I’d like to see the two of them out in the field together the way we’ve seen Kory this season with Gar and Conner. 

I wonder if Gar losing control is the start of all his trauma bubbling up to the surface, will being in Gotham, hunting down a friend be too much?

As a side, has the CGI tiger face gotten worse?

Kom (and Conner):

First thing’s first, what music are we thinking Kom listens to? Probably the kind of music she can break your tailbone to, like, Kendrick Lamar, J. Cole and Jay Z, or Prince, Jimmy Hendrix, Stevie Nicks and Led Zeppelin? Rihanna?

Kom is absolutely a villain this season and if she isn’t, what a waste that’ll be. A mastermind at mind games (see, her picking up the chess piece), who is going to drum up Kory’s paranoia and anxiety around her being there. Trying to kill her suspicion by guilt tripping her while simultaneously being a do good-er to the group, feigning interest in helping the Titans to earn her way in, a tip from our boy, Conner.

She says she wants acceptance and I believe that’s absolutely true, but she doesn’t know how to get that without using power, so she’ll continue to covet acceptance through and with power because according to Kory, she’s always been a climber. Add to that, being born the cursed child and the only royal member born without the gift of fire, something that differentiates them from the common folk, being too frail to participate in the same games as Kory, having a speech therapist be her only friend while being the object of ridicule and you have a villain origin story nicely set up.

I really enjoyed Conner and Kom’s exchange. The boy lit up when he spoke about seeing his family happy and it made me light up. He’s so genuine and has a big heart and Kom is going to take advantage of it, that’s not to say she won’t develop real feelings for him, but she can like him and still use him.

Conner’s “you have to earn your way into the family,” is perhaps an internal and personal struggle he has from sharing blood with Luthor. I think it may come from an insecure place because he was made a titan as soon as he woke up and no one questioned it, but as he’s only half of superman, he’s constantly trying to prove his usefulness for good, which losing Hank has rocked, leaving him vulnerable to Kom’s recognition for his otherness. Their otherness.

She gave us insight into her mind, but also she has likely seized an opportunity to use the vulnerability against Conner and to her favor by making him her kindred. Outcasts. Will she gain influence over him? He’s still young and learning, and trusting, too.

Her interest in him felt layered, ignoring the ugly customs of sex servants, she was also observing Kory’s relationships and ranking them in her sister’s life. Her being able to determine who may have Kory’s interest (which Kory gave away with her vulnerable display of worry over Dick’s welfare in front of Kom) will surely come into play at some point, right? After all, Kom did kill Kory’s last lover/royal guard. This may be me projecting. LOL.

Romantically, I’m waiting to see how they play it before I decide if I like it or not, but so far, they have a nice chemistry. Friendly.

Dick (and Barbara) :

What a lovable dumb ass. 

I was so happy Kory lost it on him and called him on his lone ranger shit, at least when it’s her, even when he’s being an idiot, he’s still listening. “Let’s go.” and I thought it was hilarious that he tried explaining himself, but when Gar called him out, he got all huffy with, “Excuse me, young man.”

Gar asking Kory not to have words with Barbara over Dick getting shot was so funny because Dick’s face seemed to ask the same when she asked how it happened. We love a protective Kory. I’ll be looking at him when it’s his turn to reciprocate.

I don’t like him dismissing their concerns about his personal safety and how it affects them, it’s like he’s learned nothing after running off alone to battle Trigon, or rather has unlearned his lessons of S2. I’d like to see some more permanent emotional growth from him by this season’s end. In his current state, he’s not an exuding leader. He can’t be when he’s still wrapped up in Bruce and all things Gotham. He’s not tuned into Kory’s anxiety, or Conner’s grief and insecurity, or Gar’s emotional burden. 

He’s started making it up to him, but he has much to do in taking Gar’s concerns and emotional needs seriously.

I’m not even going to try and work out the timeline between Barbara and Dick and Dick and old Titans in San Fran and S1. But it doesn’t bode well that Dick’s dream with Barbara ended in a nightmare. 

I wish they’d never did the whole Dick and Dawn relationship in S2 because they’re basically repeating some of the beats in showing us how they don’t work as a couple, only his relationship with Babs makes a lot more sense even though I don't care. Dick has unfinished business with that relationship, Bruce and Gotham and I can only hope he’s wrapped it up for good by this season’s end. I want to see relaxed, smiling and happy Dick in THE PRESENT. I still Babs will be the one to notice and point out Dick's feelings for Kory.

Barbara (outside of Dick) is being downplayed a little, no? Dismissing Dick’s suspicions about Jason when he arrived, showing no knowledge of Jason’s visits to Crane and then taking the bait and moving Crane after he got a light beat down. A commissioner who was also a very capable vigilante is tricked by a recording and goes to meet “Bruce” on her own. I really enjoyed that she could hold her own and the fight scene was really good, but it was a bit baffling that she fell for that ruse. So far, she’s not entirely good at her job.

Dick’s a distraction in his own right and her feelings clearly get in the way, which is why she keeps asking him to leave the precinct and Gotham; because she’s pining a fantasy and he’s ruining it. Lastly, I really like the way Savannah plays Barbara.

Why’d they do that to Tim?? :(

Overall, it was a better episode and I enjoyed it more than latter episodes, but they’re not quite there yet for me. I’m  still waiting for Team Titans.

[jenonctcity]

My Ending - Part 3

Differences – Na Jaemin

Part of the Bad Boy Series.

Badboy!Au, Streetracer!Au

Disclaimer: This is going to be a very dark themed story, please do not read if you are triggered easily by the mentioned subjects in the warnings.

Warnings: Mentions of Suicide Attempts, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts, Mental Health Issues (Depression and Anxiety), Character Death, Mentions of Drug Use/Overdose, Mentions of Drug Addiction Effecting Baby After Birth.

Word Count: 8k

---

Silence ensued over the table. The gently murmuring of the people around, the latest pop song playing softly over the speaker, and the noises of cutlery hitting plates was the only thing that filled the silence. Jaemin dipped his fry into ketchup, popping it into his mouth and wiping his hand on the napkin crumpled up on the table. Jeno watched him, his eyes slightly narrowed as he sipped at his milkshake through the straw with his left hand, his newborn baby son occupying his entire right arm, peacefully asleep and blissfully unaware of the tension in the air.

“Just say what you want to say Jeno.” Jaemin rolled his eyes, fed up of the silent treatment that Jeno had been giving him ever since he’d met up with him at the diner. Everything had been going perfectly fine. Until Jaemin dropped the bomb on him that he’d proposed to you. His best friend had gone dead silent and hadn’t spoken to him for a whole five minutes, apart from thanking the waitress when their food turned up. Jeno placed his milkshake cup on the table, clearing his throat and pursing his lips.

“I just think you should have told me.” Jeno finally confessed, picking up his fork and stabbing an onion ring with it, shoving it into his mouth and turning his attention to his plate. “You know since I’m your best friend!”

“It’s not that big of a deal.” Jaemin laughed, rolling his eyes at Jeno’s pettiness. Jeno raised his eyebrows at Jaemin and gave him a stare.

“It is, you had me thinking you were just going to ask her to move in! I didn’t think you were going to ask her to marry you!” Minjun squirmed a little as Jeno’s voice got louder, the baby blue pacifier in his mouth moving as he started to suck on it in his sleep. “Sorry lil guy.” Jeno gently bounced his arm to soothe the baby, Jaemin’s eyes automatically sticking to the baby he so desperately wanted to hold.

“I hadn’t spoken to you since I’d made the decision! I bought the ring the same day I proposed, and you were in the hospital watching your son pop out!” Jeno’s silence proved to Jaemin that he was right, leading him to smirk at him. Jeno sighed and smiled softly.

“Don’t you think you’re rushing into things?” Jaemin quirked an eyebrow up at Jeno, letting out a sarcastic laugh.

“You literally had a baby with someone you’d been with less than a year.” Jeno pursed his lips in realisation, biting his bottom lip and shoving a fry in his mouth. “Exactly. Now give me that baby!” Jaemin reached his hands out across the table, making grabby hands at Minjun. Minjun had graced the world with his presence exactly a week ago, which is the same amount of time Jaemin had had the honour of calling you his fiancée. Of course you’d said yes! Why wouldn’t you? Jaemin was the man you’d been dreaming about since you had known was a relationship was! And since that moment, neither of you had been able to stop smiling, a giddy feeling sitting in the pit of your stomach whenever either of you thought about each other or your future wedding.

“No. Do her parents know yet?” Jeno picked up his milkshake and took another long sip.

“Why?” Jaemin pouted, his eyebrows falling as he let his arms fall. “And yeah, they know. They actually took it really well, but only because they like me a lot.” He smiled smugly, knowing that Jeno’s girlfriend’s parents weren’t huge fans of the man who knocked up their daughter after such a short amount of time. Jeno rolled his eyes in respond, definitely making his mind up about passing over Minjun now. Jaemin had no chance of holding his baby. “Give me the baby!”

“No, he’s mine, make your own. How about grandma?” Jaemin frowned, rolling his eyes and folding his arms over his chest in defeat.

“She’s ecstatic, she loves (Y/N) and you know she’s been bugging me about getting married since I was about fourteen.” He chuckled as he thought about his grandma’s nagging, fond memories flashing through his head whenever he thinks about her. “Seriously, pass me that baby over before I wrestle him out of your arms. Uncle Nana needs a cuddle.” Jeno rolled his eyes, but very gently passed over his pride and joy to the buzzing man across the table. Jaemin almost squealed in delight, cradling the tiny premature baby in his arms like he was holding the thinnest, most breakable piece of glass in the world. “You must be so proud Jen…” He spoke quietly, too engrossed in staring at Minjun’s delicate features to see that Jeno had quickly picked up his burger that had been untouched, biting into it fast.

“Mhm.” Jeno hummed, already used to the delay of eating his food since becoming a father even though it had only been a week. “He’s precious.” He mumbled in-between chews, swallowing the lukewarm food and smiling at the sight of his best friend holding his son, even though Jaemin had already held him plenty of times considering they live together.

“I can’t wait to play match maker with him and Jihyo.” Jaemin’s words had Jeno choking on his burger, his hand coming over his mouth to stop the food from flying across the table. He hastily swallowed and shook his head.

“Nuh uh, not happening. I’d technically be related to Renjun and that’s not something I enjoy the thought of.” Jaemin laughed at Jeno’s revelation, whispering to Minjun just loud enough so Jeno could hear.

“Ignore daddy, don’t worry, Uncle Jaemin will make it happen.” He leaned in and placed a tender kiss to Minjun’s head, hoping that in a few years’ time the roles would be reversed, and it would be Jeno holding his son whilst Minjun quizzed them about the new arrival. Jaemin was excited for the future, because for him, it was only just beginning.

---

The date had been set. Your wedding was to take place exactly a year after the night you got engaged, because you and Jaemin decided that was super romantic, and completely in character for the both of you. The past three months of engagement hadn’t been anything like you’d imagined it to be. And you were starting to get stressed, because the day was slowly creeping up on your, but you hadn’t booked or arranged anything for the big day. Which was slowly driving you up the wall. It seemed to you that every time you tried to pin Jaemin down to sort things out, he was too busy being loved up and trying to get into your panties, or he simply was too busy working on his car or racing. You could feel it building up inside of you, ready to blow like a ticking time bomb. You just didn’t expect it to explode so soon.

You’d had what you could only describe as a shit day. You had to deal with a lady at work who was somewhat difficult, and she refused to eat her dinner, which caused you stress and you knew she hadn’t eaten her lunch either and as her carer it was your responsibility to make sure she was fed. Ultimately though, if she refused to eat, you couldn’t force her. So you’d left her with everything she needed and got in your car with a heavy feeling in the pit of your stomach. You were at the end of your workday, and as you started your car you remembered that you’d promised Jeno’s and Renjun’s girlfriend that the three of you would prepare dinner for the entire family tonight. Every Friday night you all spent the evening together with the kids, and tonight you’d thought it would be good for you to prepare the food instead of ordering takeaway. You regretted that big time now. All you wanted to do was go home, put on your comfiest clothes, and curl up in Jaemin’s arms whilst you looked at stupidly priced flower arrangements. Things got worse after you ran to the supermarket to pick up ice cream for dessert, only to go back to your car to find a big dent in the rear passenger side that hadn’t been there before. You drove home with a horrible feeling in your stomach that only got worse as you let yourself into yours and Jaemin’s shared bedroom.

You had never seen Jaemin doing drugs before, you didn’t even know that he was still doing drugs, as he’d told you that he hadn’t. So your stomach dropped through the floor and sprang back up to lodge itself in your throat when you walked into the bedroom and witnessed Jaemin and Haechan snorting coke off of your bedside table. Jaemin looked up as soon as he heard the door click open, his mouth popping open when he saw you stood there staring at him with your mouth popped open and eyes focused on him. You didn’t know what to think, but you knew exactly how you felt, and it wasn’t going to bring your mood up at all.

“I’m going to go.” Haechan was the first to break the awkward silence. He rose from the bed, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek as he shuffled past you to get out of the room, shutting the door behind him to save everyone in the house from hearing everything you were going to say to each other.

“Baby…” Jaemin also rose to his feet, sniffing quickly and rubbing the residue of cocaine off his nose as he went to approach you.

“Don’t baby me.” You shook your head, your voice hard and stern, letting him know that he was about to be in trouble. He visibly gulped, his mouth falling open as he tried to form words, but he didn’t really know what to say to you. “You…uh fuck you Jaemin.” You muttered, spinning around to open the door when he hurried to stop you from leaving. You’d managed to open the door only by an inch when Jaemin went slamming into it with his whole body, inevitably preventing your exit.

“Please don’t go, I promise I’ll stop if you don’t like me doing it!” Something you’d come to figure out about Jaemin was that he was a huge people pleaser, especially when it came to you. You found that if he had done the slightest thing to cause your mood to sour, then he was immediately trying to fix your mood and make you happy with him again. Usually it worked, but this was the cherry on top to your crappy day, and you didn’t even want to talk to anyone else for the rest of the day.

“It isn’t that you’re doing the drugs Jaemin! I made it quite clear to you that I wasn’t bothered by what you do, as long as you don’t get your stupid ass thrown in jail then I’m fine with it, it’s your life. But you know what I also made fucking clear, I made it clear that I wanted you to tell me about thing like this. Don’t go behind my back and do shit like this Jaemin.” You tried to pull on the door handle but Jaemin wasn’t shifting his weight from the spot on the door.

“You aren’t my mother.” He mumbled, having the audacity to roll his eyes when you were looking at him. “Listen-”

“No, you listen to me.” You frowned up at him, holding back the tears that pooled in your eyes from your anger, sadness, and from how fed up of the day you were. His eyes widened at your strict tone, realisation hitting him that he probably should have given you attitude. “You did this behind my back Jaemin, that’s called betrayal, because I trusted you when you told me you would tell me everything. What if you accidentally overdosed and I didn’t even know you were doing drugs?! What the fuck would I tell the doctors?!” He slowly moved his weight off of the door, his eyes glued onto yours despite the shame inside of him making his eyes want to drift away. He knew if he broke eye contact with you when you were in a mood like this and feeling so passionately about something, then he was be in even bigger trouble. “Also, I’m fucking stressed out and everything is going wrong today.” That’s when the flood barrier broke and you let out a sob, the tears running down your cheeks and pooling on your jawline. Jaemin gulped, reaching out to hold your hand in his but you snatched it away from him, not finished with your rant yet and knowing if you caved in and let him touch you, then you’d just let it all go. “Work was shit and someone dented my car.” You whined, feeling some of the pressure coming off of your chest as you vented. “And then I come home to this shit!”

“Someone dented your car?!” Of course that was Jaemin decided to point out. “Who?”

“I don’t know! They didn’t leave any details and it happened when I was in the supermarket.”

“I’ll buy you a new car beautiful.” He stepped closer to you, but again, you stepped back, just shaking your head at him to tell him no.

“That isn’t going to excuse you doing drugs and lying to me about it. You told me that you didn’t them anymore!” You eyed the door handle again when Jaemin was glancing down at his feet and rubbing the back of his neck in nervousness.

“I only did it a few times…”

“I don’t care! It still happened!!!” You whimpered, almost stomping your foot on the floor from how frustrated you were getting at the fact he didn’t seem to understand why you were so upset with him.

“I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.” He cleared his throat, moving to sit on the bed and putting his head in his hands, anxiety swimming around in his stomach from the thought that he could lose you from this, that’s why he had tried to make excuses and to change the subject by offering to buy you a car.

“It better not.”

“Why are you stressed baby girl? You should have told me that you were feeling stressed.” He had noticed that over the past few days you were far more agitated than you usually were, but he hadn’t brought it up in fears that he was just imagining it and it would cause you to be offended.

“Because we’re getting married in nine months Jaemin and we haven’t booked fuck all of the wedding, and every time I try to get you to help me arrange it, you brush it off or tell me that your busy! I can’t plan a wedding on my own, it’s your wedding just as much as its mine.” You wiped at your eyes with the palms of your hands, sniffing back your emotion and letting out a deep breath to try and steady your breathing. This was your first fight with Jaemin, and it left a putrid feeling inside of you that felt like it was rotting you from the inside out.

“I’ll make more of an effort okay, I’m sorry.” He gulped, his face feeling hot and his heart beating faster in his chest as a side effect of the drug he took.

“You have time to snort cocaine but you haven’t got time to plan your o-”

“I said I’m fucking sorry okay?!” He knew the over confidence was the cocaine talking and he immediately winced, standing up and rushing to you to embrace you as his apology. But you were already holding a hand out to stop him.

“I’m going to stay at my parents house tonight. Don’t contact me until tomorrow.” You stormed out quickly, ignoring everyone as they watched you leave, not really caring what they thought of you in that moment, it’s something you’d think about at a later date.

“Baby no!” Jaemin was hot on your heels, grabbing his own car keys on the way out but that’s when Renjun and Jeno stopped him, both of them pinning him to the wall.

“You’re not driving under the influence.” Jeno pried the keys out of his hand with a lot of difficulty, since Jaemin had seemed to be determined to follow you.  

“I have to stop her!” Jaemin fought against them, his body thrashing as he tried to push them off of him.

“Jaemin no!” Haechan stood up quickly, helping Jeno and Renjun in restraining the frantic man.

“If she leaves she won’t come back!” Jaemin shouted, his eyes filling with tears as the he fell to the floor in a heap as a last attempt to move past them. Haechan was quick though, and he tackled him to the floor. “They never come back when they leave!” He started to sob as panic set in, his limbs shaking as his thoughts poisoned his mind.

“She will be back.” Jeno used a soft tone once he realised that his best friend was panicking because he was relating you leaving him, to his mother leaving him. “Shh, calm down.” He pocketed the keys and rubbed a hand against his head.

“Why is Uncle Nana crying?��� Jiyeon’s soft voice made Jeno and Renjun’s head snap to the doorframe where she was stood, a worried expression on her face with her teddy bear in her arms.

“Jiyeon you’re supposed to be in the living room with everyone else.” Renjun sighed, standing up fast and rushing to his daughter. Haechan and Jeno let go of Jaemin once they saw he’d calmed down, Jeno giving him a hand to stand up. Jaemin ran a hand through his hair, sniffing back his tears and walking back towards his bedroom. Once he reached it through, his fist clenched, and before he could stop himself, he had already punched a dent in the wood. Renjun was still stood within eyesight with Jiyeon looked over his shoulder at the incident. Her little face crinkled up as she broke out into a cry, clinging onto her daddy tighter from fright.

“Uncle Nana scary!” She cried into her fathers’ shoulder. Renjun tensed up, not quite believing that Jaemin would do that in front of a two-year-old.

“It’s okay honey, let’s go see Jihyo.” He stroked a hand up and down her little back to comfort her as she cried, knowing if he didn’t calm himself by using his daughters then he was going to go ape shit at Jaemin. Jeno groaned, leaning his head against the wall in defeat, unsure of what to do.

You spent the night at your parent’s house, just telling them that you felt rough and needed a break from the hectic apartment for one night. They were more than happy to have their baby back home for a night, even if you went straight to bed and slept straight through to the morning. You felt like something was missing, and you knew it was Jaemin. It was Saturday and you had no other obligations to do other than to go home and make up with your boyfriend. You had breakfast with your parents and siblings, trying to enjoy the fussing of your mother and the dad jokes your dad kept coming out with. But it was hard when all you could think about was Jaemin. You worried about him, mostly because of his depression and you knew that this was probably harder on him, even if he was the cause of the argument, you still felt like you should worry about him more than yourself.

Arriving back at the apartment was bittersweet. You considered it as your home now and you were super comfortable living there with the people Jaemin considered as family, so to be back home made you feel good, even if you had only been away for one night. But it left a bitterness on your tongue because you knew the mood would be sour when you entered. You were wrong, Renjun had taken his girlfriend and kids back over to the opposite apartment that they spent most of their time in, Haechan was still in bed asleep, and Jeno and his girlfriend were cuddled up on the sofa watching the morning news with Minjun asleep in her arms. However, Jaemin was laying on his bed with his eyes shut when you entered, his eyes immediately opening and landing on you. His eyes were clearly bloodshot from his lack of sleep, and he sat up fast.

“Don’t say anything,” You spoke softly, approaching him quickly and taking his face in your hands. “Just listen. I’m sorry I was super harsh on your yesterday, I just wanted to express how I felt and I realise now that it was a bit too much…have you slept?” You stroked your thumbs against his hot cheeks, letting out a sigh when he shook his head.

“No…I’m sorry baby, can we make up now?” He wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his forehead against your stomach and letting out a tired sigh and a yawn.

“Yeah, we can.” You couldn’t stay mad at him for too long, and you felt a lot better today after having vented the night prior, your mood a lot calmer and leading you to make a rational conclusion about it all. The two of you moved so that you were cuddling on the bed, him being the big spoon and snuggling his head into the crook of your neck from behind.

“I promise to make more effort for the wedding.” He whispered, his hot breath washing over your skin and sending a chill down your spine. You let out a very gentle laugh and closed your eyes, feeling a wave of sleepiness attack your eyes, probably from the warmth of Jaemin and from how tired he looked himself.

“It’s so stressful to plan a wedding, I wish we could just elope next week.” You joked, letting out another soft laugh and a yawn. Jaemin laughed with you, but then cleared his throat and took a deep breath.

“Let’s do it.”

“What? Elope?” You opened your eyes and twisted your head around to glance at him. He bit his bottom lip as his eyes racked over your face, taking in all of your features that he loved each of so much. He still couldn’t believe how someone as perfect as you walked straight into his life and hadn’t walked back out again as soon as you got to know him.

“Yeah, maybe not next week though…how about on our one-year anniversary? It’s in like two months, right?”

“Three months…okay!”

“And we can just buy the outfits a-wait…did you say okay?” He felt a wide smile pulling at the corners of his lips, one you quickly mirrored.

“I did, let’s do it.”

 ---

Neither of you had told a soul. It was a Sunday, and you both hoped into Jaemin’s car, both of your wedding outfits stowed away into the boot so that no one could see them as you drove to the local chapel. It was your anniversary today too, so you felt like you were on cloud nine with Jaemin, both of you so in love with each other that it almost physically hurt. Of course people would judge you for getting married after only being together for a year. But fuck them! It’s none of their business, and neither of you cared for anyone else’s opinions. You both got changed in separate rooms, and you felt the air almost get knocked out of your chest when you saw Jaemin in his suit. It reminded you of the first time you laid eyes on him when he was wearing the suit from his mother’s funeral, and you remembered just how much your mouth nearly watered at the sight of him. Jaemin felt his eyes sting and a lump forming in his throat at the sight of you in your white wedding gown. It was a simple silk gown that hugged your figure and pooled around your white high heels.

You felt tears pool in your eyes as you said your vowels, Jaemin’s hands completely still compared to your shaky ones as you slid the ring up his finger. You don’t think you could ever forget the bright smile and twinkle in his eye as you watched him recite his own vowels, his bottom lip between his teeth as the minister declared you husband and wife. The ring felt foreign on your finger, but it was a welcome feeling, and you soon forgot about it as Jaemin’s lips pressed to yours, his hands sitting on your hips so tenderly you could hardly feel them. His lips were warm, and ignited the fire in your heart once more, like the kiss was dousing your love in a fuel that would make it explode. When you drew back, you both gazed into each other’s eyes and let out soft giggles.

“Mrs Na.” He whispered, laying another kiss to the corner of your mouth before swiping your hand up in his own. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, my husband.” You giggled again, completely giddy about your new titles for each other.

“I guess we should go and tell everyone, who shall we visit first?” He guided you back down the aisle, his heart beating so fast he genuinely thought it was going to pop out of his chest.

“My parents and then your grandma?” He nodded quickly at your suggestion. The both of you decided to keep your suit and gown on, wanting it to up the shock factor to all of your unsuspecting family and friends. All of the legal stuff and fees had been taken care of before, so you were just free to go on about the rest of your day as newlyweds. Even sitting in Jaemin’s car had you feeling different, and you almost bounced on the seat from your excitement.

When you arrived at your parent’s house, you both ducked down as you walked up the garden path, just in case one of your eager eyed siblings spotted you on your way to the door. You took a deep breath and knocked on the door, despite the key that you owned. Your mother was the one who answered the door, and she gave you a furrowed eyebrowed, head pulled back in confusion look.

“It’s not Halloween you crazy kids! What’s this all about?” She moved out of the way to let you both in. You both shuffled in, removing your shoes and giggling at her expression. Jaemin gave her a hug and kissed her on the cheek.

“We have something to tell you, but we should gather everyone together.” You couldn’t help the big grin stuck on your face, and you wondered if it would ever disappear.

“It’s just me and your father home, the kids are all out, we could wait for them to come home?”

“How long will they be?” You titled your head, going through to the living room with your mum and Jaemin. Your dad was sitting on the sofa watching the football, but at the sight of you in a wedding dress and veil his eyes almost burst out of his skull. You sniggered and pulled Jaemin beside you.

“A few hours.”

“It’s okay, we’ll just tell you two.” You looked up at Jaemin, biting your bottom lip as your mum sat beside your dad.

“What’s going on?” He raised an eyebrow, trying to hide back his sarcastic remarks about your outfits, wanting to make a halloween joke so badly.

“We got married!” You held your hand out to your parents to show off your ring, trying not to feel dejected when neither of them smiled, instead both of their mouths dropping open in shock and their eyebrows turning into frowns.

“Without telling us?! The wedding isn’t supposed to be for months!” Your dad sat up straighter, clearly annoyed that he wasn’t part of his oldest daughter’s wedding.

“Aren’t you happy for us?” Your sudden sad face and pout had your parents immediately back tracking, both of them jumping up to hug you.

“We are princess, we’re just a bit upset that we weren’t there is all.” Your mother kissed your forehead while your dad shook Jaemin’s hand.

“We’re going to have another wedding reception that’s family only, so you’ll be apart of that.” Jaemin smiled, hoping that would give your parents a peace of mind. It seemed to work, but you knew they were still not 100% happy with your decision. You stayed with them for a little while, before hopping back into the car to go to Jaemin’s grandmas.

“Do you think she’ll take the news better than mum and dad?” You asked Jaemin, turning your head to him as he stopped at a red light of an intersection. He smiled, placing a hand on your knee and stroking his thumb against the silky fabric of your dress.  

“I think she might be a bit upset too, but she’ll just be happy that I finally got a ring on your finger before you could change your mind.” He chuckled, leaning across the seat and laying a kiss on your parted lips.

“I considered it.” You winked at him to tell him you were joking. He gasped in mock offense, shaking his head and biting the inside of his mouth.

“You can’t escape me now (Y/N), you’re in this for the long ride now.” He winked back at your and chuckled, driving when the light turned green.

“I wouldn’t want to leave you any-” You never got to finish that sentence.

---

“Jaemin?” Jeno’s voice was foggy, like his head was being held underneath a pillow being smothered to death. He opened his eyes fully, immediately wincing at the harsh lights above him. His throat felt like a serrated knife had been lodged inside of it, every time he gulped to try and quench the dryness, it stung and left him almost gasping for water. Despite that, he didn’t feel dehydrated, and he couldn’t feel much more of his body. Everything felt numb to a certain extent, but it felt good when he flexed his toes out, the stiffness loosening his muscles out. “Jaemin it’s me, can you hear me buddy?” It was then he remembered that Jeno had been talking to him, his voice now clearer as Jaemin’s head defogged.

“Yeah.” He whispered, his eyes baring into Jeno’s. “You look like shit.” He managed to whisper out when he noticed Jeno’s appearance. Jeno had bloodshot eyes and big dark circles underneath them, like he hadn’t slept in centuries. His hair was a mess, and his lips looked sore as if he’d been constantly biting them. Jeno gave him a very small smile, letting out a very soft sigh.

“I’ll be back in a moment.” He rose from his seat, exiting the room only to reappear a few moments later. “The doctor is now coming; do you remember what happened?” He asked with a very soft tone, his hands shaking slightly as they ran through his already messed up hair. Jaemin let out a sigh, narrowing his eyes as he tried to rack his brain, until it suddenly hit him.

“(Y/N)!!! Where is she?! W-we got hit by something didn’t we? I-I don’t remember anything except everything going black a-and…Jeno is she okay?!” He felt panic settle in, and he tried to sit up, but was restricted from doing so when he placed his hand on the mattress to push himself up, only to be hit by a pain he’d never felt before. It was excruciating, the pressure he put on it making the pain flare up, since there was only so much pain that the medication he had been given could take away.

“Jaemin stay still!” Jeno pushed Jaemin back into his pillows very gently, more guiding him by his shoulders than pushing.

“Jaemin, hello I’m doctor Park.” A middle-aged man with grey hair entered the room with a calming smile on his face. “Please don’t move too much, you’ll do yourself more harm than good.” He approached the bed and looked into Jaemin’s eyes, he took a deep breath and began to explain to Jaemin. “You’re been unconscious for two days, you haven’t sustained any brain damage, and you’re expected to make a full recovery, however, you have broken multiple ribs, and your left wrist, and we’ve given you stitches on multiple lacerations over your body which will likely scar.”

“I don’t care about me! Tell me is my wife okay?!” Jaemin wanted to scream, but he knew that wouldn’t do any good. He just needed to see you and make sure that you were okay.

“Mr Na, you were involved in a very severe car collision. The car hit your car at such a speed that your car flipped multiple times,” Jaemin’s eyes flicked over to Jeno as the doctor spoke, and he saw a tear roll down his cheek. He furrowed his eyebrows and looked back up at the doctor, waiting for the explanation. He felt his heart in his chest, it was pounding so hard that it felt like it was rising through his throat, a bad feeling burning in his stomach. “The other driver of the car died on impact, and you had to be cut free of your car. Your wife also had to be cut from the car. She was brought back here, and we took her straight into surgery after discovering that she had a bleed on the brain,” Jaemin felt like the pillow was being smothered over his head against when he heard those words. His heart now pounding in his head like a deafening drum that was causing his entire body to start quivering. “We did everything that we could, but she sustained too much brain damage. Mr Na, your wife is what we call brain dead.” Jaemin was took in shock to react, just staring up at the doctor as he listened to the pounding in his head. “We had two senior doctors perform tests to come to this conclusion, and she failed all of the tests. Her heart is still beating, but only because she’s on a ventilator that is keeping her breathing. We can’t take her off of the ventilator until we have permission from her next of kin, which as her husband, would be you.” Jeno put his head in his hands, his shoulders shaking as he silently sobbed for you both. He had already heard this news, but it still hurt just as much hearing it again, especially as it was being told to Jaemin.

“Is she in pain?” Jaemin just wanted to know if you could feel any pain, surely if your heart was still beating and you were still breathing then you were alive, and there was hope that you could recover? “Will she ever recover?” He was still in shock, and he had no idea where the power to ask questions were coming from.

“She can’t feel anything, I can assure you that she didn’t feel any pain from the moment that this accident happened. And no, she wont ever recover. Brain death is permanent and cannot be reversed.” The doctor had a soothing voice, it was no wonder he was the one who was sent into Jaemin’s room to deliver the news.

“Okay.” Jaemin gulped, nodding his head as the news hadn’t yet sunk in. “Can I see her?”

“If you feel well enough, then yes, you may.” Doctor Park and Jeno both helped Jaemin into a wheelchair, and Jeno couldn’t help but take Jaemin’s good hand into his hand as the doctor pushed the wheelchair through the halls. He stopped in front of a closed door and slowly opened it, pushing Jaemin inside and placing him beside your bed. “I’ll leave you alone. If you have any questions, I’ll be outside.” He exited the room and shut the door gently behind him. Jaemin stared at your cut up face, pushing himself out of the wheelchair to stand up so he could get a better look at you.

“Oh.” It was looking at the big pipe going down into your mouth that made it sink in. He broke down in hard sobs when he realised the only thing keeping your heart beating for him was that tube. “Oh baby.” He reached his hand out stroked your cheek tenderly, wanting nothing more than for you to lean into his touch like you normally would, maybe even press a soft kiss to the palm of his hand. “Wake up…” He whispered, heavy tears rolling down his cheeks as he let out choked sobs that made his throat burn. “Please (Y/N)! You can’t leave me like this!” He had never felt so desperate before in his entire life. But deep down he knew that no matter how much he begged you, your delicate body couldn’t recover from this. There was a big bandage around your hair, and he could hardly recognise you from how bruise and cut up your face was. He felt his chest burn, like an invisible python was wrapping its way around him and constricting his breathing.

“Jaemin!” Jeno rushed forward and caught Jaemin just as he was about to collapse, holding his brother tight as he cried with him. “I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry Jaemin.” He gently rocked them back and forth, mourning with Jaemin for his loss. He didn’t give a fuck that he hadn’t been told about the wedding, all he wanted was for you to be alive, so that he could see you by Jaemin’s side as his lifelong partner.

“She can’t be gone!” Jaemin shook his head, gasping for air between the sobs that fell from his lips. “I love her!” He didn’t realise what he was saying, he just wanted you to open your eyes and tell him that everything was going to be okay. Jeno held Jaemin until he calmed down, which took half an hour. He set him back in his wheelchair and wiped his cheeks for him with a tissue as he just stared at your lifeless body. Silence ensued for a long time as Jaemin tried to process everything. But he didn’t think he could ever fully process what had happened. It was ironic really. You’d fallen in love with each other so fast, only to be ripped away from each other just as fast. It had been a year of mostly ups, with hardly any downs, and Jaemin felt like he wasn’t being selfish when he very brokenly said. “A year wasn’t long enough.”

---

Jaemin didn’t want visitors. But he couldn’t find it in his heart to turn your parents away when they showed up at the door to his hospital room the day after he’d woken up. They were the closest thing he had to you now, and he knew that even though you weren’t around anymore, he would still keep them close to him for the rest of his life. The meeting was filled with tears and hugs, and they didn’t fail to mention to Jaemin that you had told them plenty of times how deeply in love with him you were. It was hard for Jaemin to hear, but he also desperately needed to hear it. They told him that your siblings had already said their goodbyes to you. They were still young and didn’t need the anguish of waiting around for Jaemin to give the doctors the go ahead to turn off your ventilators. However they both wanted to wait to be there by Jaemin’s side when it was finally time. Jaemin felt like the world was playing some kind of sick joke on him. He hadn’t even been married to you for a whole day when you were ripped away from him, and now he had to be the person that decided whether your heart stopped beating or not. He felt like it was a double-edged sword. He got to marry you, and you felt so much love on the day you stopped living that Jaemin was so happy that the marriage had happened. But on the other hand, the decision now rested on him instead of on your parents.

When the time finally came for your machines to be turned off, Jaemin made everyone say their goodbyes before him. Jeno had surprised Jaemin by bringing his grandma to the hospital for support. She was absolutely crushed, especially after she had found out that you were on the way to her house when you’d gotten into the accident. But Jaemin had just held her tight like he used to after school when he was upset about being bullied. The room emptied out when it was Jaemin’s turn, and he slowly approached the bedside he’d spent so much time by the past week that he’d been in hospital, unable to tell the doctors that it was okay to let your heart stop, he felt numb. His eyes watered like they had so much over the past week, and he took your warm hand in his own, enjoying your warmth for one last time.

“Hey baby, I don’t really know what to say to you,” He took a deep breath and lowered his forehead to rest against your own, his knuckles turning white from how hard they were clutching your hand. “I guess I should start from the beginning, although its not like you weren’t there for it all, we spent nearly every day together when we were falling in love didn’t we? Those were the best day of my life, and forever will be.” He closed his eyes as tears slowly trickled down his cheeks. “I’ve never been loved by someone in the way you loved me, and I miss you so much. You accepted me for who I was, and I hope you know how grateful I am that you came into my life. I promised to protect you from everything, and I couldn’t, and I’m so sorry for promising you something I couldn’t keep. My heart will always belong to you, and I’m so sorry that we couldn’t do all of the things that we had planned to do. I love you so much, and I will until my heart stops beating, I just wish we had more time. You’re my world, and I love you (Y/N).” He took another deep breath and looked at the doctor through the window, giving him a nod that signified he was ready to let you go. He saw everybody looking through the window, their cheeks all wet as they watched Jaemin say goodbye to the love of his life. Jaemin couldn’t help but feel envious as he watched Jeno’s girlfriend and Renjun’s girlfriend snuggled into their chests for comfort, soft sobs falling from them as they mourned the loss of their friend. Haechan looked like a broken man. Jaemin knew that you and Haechan got along really well, and you had even spent some time with him after he went through some struggles with his girlfriend.

They all had to stay outside and watch through the window, as only family could enter the room. Your parents came into the room, but Jaemin’s grandma stayed with Haechan and held his hand. Jaemin gently placed a kiss to the back of your hand, watching as Doctor Park got prepared, gently pulling the medical tape off of your face that was helping to keep the ventilator in your mouth. Your parents cried in each other’s as Doctor Park very slowly and gently removed your breathing tube. Jaemin leaned down, leaning his forehead against your own once more as your chest stopped rising and falling, one long breath leaving your lungs as you stopped breathing. The heart monitor sped up, until it flatlined, quickly being switched off by Doctor Park to avoid anymore emotional distress for anyone. Jaemin sobbed silently, stroking your hair with his fingers on his bad arm and holding your hand tightly with his good one, as whispered to you one last time.

“I love you.”

---

Time was starting to go by as a blur for Jaemin. It had been two weeks, but today was the day you were finally laid to rest. It had been hard for him to hear everyone keep telling him that they were sorry for his loss, and he couldn’t remember much of what happened, his brain so foggy and disorientated that Jaemin didn’t even know what day of the week it was. He hadn’t bothered changing out of his suit, the same one that he’d worn to his mother’s funeral on the day that you’d met because he didn’t have it in him to go out and buy a new one. He couldn’t even imagine telling a shop assistant that he was looking for a suit because he was burying his wife. Besides, you’d always made little comments to him about how handsome he looked in that suit, and even though you were gone, he still wanted to please you. Your pillow still smelt like you, and Jaemin held it tightly in his grip as he laid on his bed, no more tears left inside of his eyes to cry, since they’d all been poured out before and during your funeral. The door opening made him look up, and he gave Jeno a hardly there smile.

“I brought you some toast, you need to eat.” He set the plate down on the bedside table and gently sat on the edge of the bed beside Jaemin. He bit his bottom lip for a moment before sighing and finally speaking his mind. “I’m so worried about you, you’ve tried to kill yourself over things a lot smaller than this, and every time I step into your room I’m scared I’ll see you hanging from the curtain poll, or in a pool of your own vomit from overdosing…Jaemin I need to know that you’re going to be okay.” Jaemin gulped and sat up, gently setting your pillow down in your empty spot and letting out a sigh as he looked at his best friend.

“Jeno, I have never in my life been more determined to live than I am right now.” A big smile broke out on Jaemin’s face, despite the tears he didn’t think he had spilling over his waterline. “Life is so precious, and (Y/N) had hers ripped away from her so fast before she even got to properly live. How could I ever take my own life away now?” Jeno felt a wash of relief rush over him, and he took Jaemin’s hand into his own, squeezing it tightly. “I don’t just live for myself now, I live for her. She’s a part of me now, and as long as my heart is still beating, her love for me is still alive.” He took a deep breath and then smiled as he looked at the picture of the two of you on his bedside table. “Her ending came too fast, but it wasn’t our ending, because our love lives on. And this will definitely will not be my ending.”

---

 Okay, so this is the end of the main stories for Differences! How are we feeling? I’m so sorry by the way, I have never cried so much writing as what I did for this piece. I hope you guys enjoyed this series, but don’t worry, it’s not the end end! I still have epilogues to write for each of the boys and short stories for them. Character Asks on @jenonctcity-character-asks​ are open! Thank you so much for reading, I love you.

[hidden-otaku-stuff]

Different but the Same (pt 4)

tw: Cursing 

Word count: ~2.4k

Rating: R18+/M

Omegaverse AU, Rating: 18+/M

Pairings: Iwaizumi x fem!reader, Ushijima x fem!reader

Summary: An unexpected encounter at the Inter-High tournament tossed you into a whirlwind. Being tugged between two males, two different packs, who will reign supreme in this battle for your heart?

Masterlist | prev | next

Ch 4: Seijoh’s Omega

“Iwa-chan, is everything alright?” The ace was drinking his water, the team scattered across the room as they took a break. He raised his eyebrow at his best friend. Iwaizumi simply grunted, bringing the bottle back to his lips. 

“You’ve been really quiet today, Hajime. What’s up?” Mattsun joined the group now, tilting his head at the disgruntled ace. 

An exasperated sigh. “Ushiwaka got (Name) to be their fucking manager.” A choking noise echoed in the room as Oikawa spluttered water everywhere. “Shittykawa!” Iwaizumi scowled, wiping his face with the towel that was draped over his shoulder.  

“She’s doing what?” Oikawa wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, ignoring the mess he just made. “Since when?”

Iwaizumi sighed, looking over to their underclassmen. Kindaichi was practicing his serves. At the next court, Yahaba and Kumini worked on setting and spikes while Watari practiced receiving them. “Yesterday. Apparently Shiratorizawa has this new Omega program and they have to manage a club. Since she didn’t have one, the volleyball club requested her or some shit.”

“And you’re letting her?”

His head snapped back to the group of third years. His closest friends. Their closest friends. “She’s her own person, I can’t stop her from doing whatever she likes.” 

“Yeah, but aren’t you worried about—”

“Of course I’m fucking worried.” Iwaizumi interrupted Makki. A scowl darkened his face. “She’s literally my mate, I don’t want her surrounded by a bunch of other alphas that could try and steal her away.” 

Mattsun wiped the sweat from his forehead. “At least it’s her birthday soon. You guys will finally be bonded and you won’t have to worry about that anymore.”

“If I can mark her in time.”

“What do you mean?” A confused look crossed Makki and Mattsun’s face. Oikawa’s face darkened in realization. 

Another grunt left the ace. “Her birthday is on a Tuesday. We were planning a romantic weekend for when we’d do the marking. If anything happens to her before that…” He trailed off, the aggressively bitter scent filled the gym. The others stopped practicing as they looked over in alarm at their senpais. 

“Hey, it’ll be fine. She’s a smart enough girl, she won’t let anything happen to her before then.” Mattsun’s hand clapped his back. “You trust her right?”

“You know I do,” he grumbled. “I just don’t trust those idiots she’s with.” 

“Didn’t you like one of them though?” Makki tilted his head.

“Tch. I don’t like him. I just don’t hate him. It’s their old setter turned pinch server, Semi.” 

Mattsun clicked his tongue. “I’d hate to be benched as a third-year.” 

“Good thing you’re here and not at a school like Shiratorizawa.” Makki laughed. 

Mattsun frowned, stretching his shoulders. “Didn’t that setter from Karasuno get benched for Kageyama? It’s his third year too.” 

Oikawa scowled at the mention of his kouhai. “Alright, that’s enough of a break,” he grumbled, crossing his arms. The boys all muttered their ascent with Makki giving Iwaizumi another reassuring pat as they made their way back onto the courts. Iwaizumi glanced at the door to the gym. 

“Oh, (L. Name)-kun, what are you doing here?” Iwaizumi’s head snapped up at the sound of her name. A familiar (h/c) head poked its way into the gym. She sent the coaches a sheepish smile. It was a hot spring day of their second year; the pack and coaches were used to her presence.

“I know you guys are busy practicing, but I was hoping to drop off a present to the boys.” 

Coach Irihata let out a deep chuckle, waving the Omega in. The noise of the ball brought Iwaizumi’s attention back to the practice match, though he couldn’t help but keep his ears pricked to pay attention to their conversation. “You’re always welcome to stop by!” She stepped in, holding a tray. “What have you brought us today?” A rosy glow settled on her cheeks. It was normal for her to bring her onigiri for the team, and even the occasional bento. 

“Well, since it’s been so warm, I figured I’d bring some watermelon.” The whistle blew as the last point was earned.

“You’ve always had perfect timing, (L.Name)-kun.” Coach Mizoguchi laughed. “Boys, come over and greet our guest! She’s brought you a gift. You guys can have a fifteen minute break now.” The team made a half-circle around the coaches and the friendly Omega. Each greeted her in their own various ways. Iwaizumi couldn’t stop the grin that forced his lips up. 

“For all your hard work,” she dipped her head, presenting the tray.

“Oooh watermelon!”

“You’re the best!” 

“This is why you’re my best friend.” 

“Shut up Mattsun, she’s my best friend.” Oikawa stuck his tongue out.

Iwaizumi cleared his throat. “I do believe she’s my best friend.” They all laughed, as each member took a piece of watermelon. Each person settled off in their own groups. Iwaizumi mingled, sticking beside Makki as they both bit into their watermelon. The Omega was floating around, checking in with all of his pack-mates to see if they wanted any more watermelon. 

“Oh, Watari-kun, are you okay?” Her worried voice caught his attention, drawing it away from a conversation about their rivals. Watari was flexing his fingers, wincing. “Lemme tape that up for you, okay?” She carefully wiped the watermelon juice from his fingers as she pulled a roll of athletic tape out of her bag. With tender movements, she wrapped them up. “Is that ok?” At his nod, she finished it off. “There we go. Please let me know if you’re having any trouble with it, okay?” 

“Thank you (Name)-senpai!” 

She just ruffled his hair, offering another piece of melon. “Anytime, Watari-kun! And you don’t have to call me senpai.” His cheeks flushed as he looked away. Iwaizumi’s heart warmed at the interaction. His mate was literally perfect. Seeing her kindness towards him was one thing, but seeing her demonstrate it to her unofficial pack-mates? To know that she went out of her way to prepare them food and bring them treats like this...His entire body hummed; it felt like he was falling in love with her all over again. 

The loud noise of the ball making contact with flesh snapped him out of his thoughts. He shook his head, blinking furiously as he concentrated. The ball was soaring back towards him. “Chance ball!” It bounced off Watari’s forearms, sending it back to Oikawa. 

“Iwa-chan!” Iwaizumi’s feet moved before he could think, instinctively jumping in the air as he slammed the ball back down into the other side. He landed softly, grinning and high-fiving Mattsun who was beside him. Glancing back to the bleachers, another memory bubbled to the surface.

It was just any other warm summer day later that same year. They were in the middle of a training camp, and it was their break time. Iwaizumi was relaxing on the bleachers, pulling his lovely mate into his lap. She squealed as she fell into it, almost losing her grip on her rice-ball. A playful scowl crossed her face as she shouldered the Alpha, only for her jaw to drop when he took a big bite out of it. “Hajime!” She exclaimed, smacking him. “You have your own.” A soft pout replaced the scowl. He jokingly leaned forward as if to eat the rest only for the Omega to shove the entire thing into her mouth. 

“You guys are so gross,” Makki rolled his eyes, eating his bento while standing in front of the couple. Mattsun just elbowed his friend, eating his own onigiri. The Omega had prepared bentos and another tray full of her onigiri for the team. 

Iwaizumi laughed loudly at his mate; her cheeks were puffed up like a chipmunk as she struggled to chew. He couldn’t resist pulling her in closer to press a kiss onto her lips. A strangled noise escaped her as she choked. Iwaizumi chuckled, grabbing his water bottle. “We get it, you’re happy and in love,” Mattsun dead-panned. Oikawa made a noise of disgust besides the couple. “Thank you for the onigiri, (Nickname)!”

The Omega paused, gulping the water that Iwaizumi had offered her. “Of course, Mattsun! I love you guys, and I’ll always be here to take care of you all.” Her smile caused the alphas’ eyes to glow and their scents to warm up. 

“About that….” The group turned to Oikawa who stood as he spoke. One arm was tucked behind his back. She cocked her head to the side, glancing at Iwaizumi only to see him beaming back at her. “You’ve been unofficially a part of the pack for awhile now.” He pulled out a teal and white bag. “Consider this your official welcoming gift.” She hesitantly pulled the tissue out, letting the jacket fall onto her lap. Her embroidered name caught the light.

Tears welled up in her eyes as her head swung around to look at them. “You guys…” Her voice cracked. She stood up quickly letting the jacket slip only for Iwaizumi to catch it, before she threw herself onto Oikawa. He held her close, rubbing her back as she squeezed him tightly. “Thank you so much Tooru.” 

Oikawa stuck his tongue out at Iwaizumi. “Guess she’s mine now, Iwa-chan.”

“Shut up Trashykawa.” 

“Ow!” Oikawa rubbed his head as Iwaizumi smacked the back of his head. The Omega tugged the rest of the alphas into a hug. Iwaizumi gently pulled away, draping the jacket over her shoulders like a cape. 

“Welcome to the pack, sweetheart.” He hummed, pressing a kiss to her head.

The scrimmage ends with a blow of a whistle. Iwaizumi shook his head, rolling his shoulders back as he released the tension from all the spikes that he was doing. “Will (Nickname) be going to the Shiratorizawa training camp too? Or will she be with us?” His head snapped to Mattsun; his bottom lip was beginning to feel sore from all the gnawing. 

He grunted, eyes glaring at the opposite wall. “I don’t know. We haven’t talked about it yet.” 

“She can’t be with them! She’s in our pack,” Oikawa scowled, crossing his arms. His scent singed their noses as they all reacted to it. Mattsun threw him a dirty look, Makki took a slight step back, and Iwaizumi forcibly slapped him on the back.

“You act like I want her to go with them too,” Iwaizumi scowled. “It’s her graduation requirement, I can’t have her not graduate along with us. If they force her to go because of it, we can’t stop her.”

The sound of the door sliding open caught his attention, but not as much as the scent that followed. He whirled around, eyes widening. Clothed in a familiar teal-and-white jacket was a sorely missed sight. “Hi everyone!” The ball dropped to the ground as he darted over to her. “Hi babe,” she purred as his arms snaked around her waist, pressing her to him as he twirled her around. Iwaizumi buried his face into the crook of her neck, rubbing his neck against it as he let out a soft purr. Faintly he could hear the coaches call for a break. 

“What are you doing here?” He mumbles. 

“Don’t hog her, Iwa-chan!” Arms wrapped around the couple as three scents washed over them.

“Oi, fuck off!” Iwaizumi growled, tightening his grip as he swung his head to glare at his pack-mates. 

“We missed ya, squirt!” Makki ruffled her hair.

“Are you really leaving us for Shiratorizawa?” Oikawa spat.

“I’m guessing Hajime told you,” the Omega sighed as she attempted to withdraw from their embrace. The others let go, taking a step or two back. Iwaizumi refused to move from his position at her neck. “Unfortunately, I’ll have to manage their pack until we graduate, but they promised to protect me. I promise, nothing will happen or change besides that.” She pointed to the door where she had set some bags. “I brought bentos!” 

At this, the rest of the pack swarmed over. The others had been standing to the side waiting patiently to greet her, but they obviously couldn’t resist the prospect of her cooking. “Thank you, (Name)!” Kindaichi cheered as he brought the bags over to the rest of the pack. She patted his head with her hand before she wrapped her arms around Iwaizumi’s neck. Her mate pressed a kiss to her uncovered scent gland. 

The food was quickly distributed, and Iwaizumi dragged her over to the bleachers. “You didn’t have practice today?” He asked as he pulled her into his lap, arms wrapping around her. She opened the bento, twisting so that she was perched perpendicular to him in order to feed him. 

“I took the day off. I figured I would take some time to visit the pack before I couldn’t do it as often.” Their eyes roamed the gym together as he breathed in her soothing scent.

“I’m going to miss having you here,” he muttered, biting the offered piece of agedashi tofu. 

“And I’m going to miss being here with you.” She watched as Makki and Mattsun made fun of Oikawa, who had grains of rice and a bit of sauce on his cheek. “And the rest of those idiots,” she added as an afterthought, stifling a giggle. 

One of his hands felt the soft material of the jacket. “You look better in this jacket than that one.” She giggled at his words, placing the empty bento box down so that she could burrow herself into his arms. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. They sat in silence for a moment longer before the coaches called for them to practice to resume. 

With a loud sigh, Iwaizumi pulled her into a searing kiss before he plopped her back onto the bench. She waved at him, beaming as she pulled out her textbook. He made his way back to the courts, stretching his arms as he felt his shoulder muscles flex. Oikawa came to stand beside Iwaizumi as they both surveyed the Omega. 

“We can’t lose her.”

I know. 

AN: Enjoy the Seijoh fluff!

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[beyondstupidityblog]

On March 13th 2021, two friends and I did what never could have imagined possible, I watched Freddy Got Fingered for the ninth time, and it will by no means be the last. I’m explaining this to you, dear reader, so you and I have an important understanding between us. You will be reading the ramblings of one whose brain has curdled like milk left out in the hot afternoon sun. Now that introductions are out of the way, let us begin.

Freddy Got Fingered is a 2001 Comedy starring and directed by Tom Green as the Non-Titular Gordon Brody; an aspiring animator who goes to California to realize his dream, only to be constantly crushed under the weight of his father’s expectations. Sounds tame at first, but what lies beneath the veneer of mediocrity is truly impressive. Completely bombed,  audiences hated it, and critics loathed it. Roger Ebert got angry, saying “it isn’t even below the bottom of the barrel” and “Green should be flipping burgers somewhere.”. “Tasteless”, “appalling”, “offensive”, “gross”, and “poo poo,” are just some of the things people have had to say about this film. Animal genitalia can be seen on screen for much longer than anyone could have expected, Tom Green swinging a baby akin to a morning-star with its umbilical cord, said umbilical cord being stolen and taped onto his stomach, gratuitous caning of a nymphomaniac paraplegic, and the dissection of a deer carcass. It is an abrasive experience that leaves a terrible taste in the mouths of those who mention it. Nonetheless, I love this movie. 

You ever see a contemporary art exhibit that has a piece that just looks like garbage somebody left out but in actuality is a tongue-and-cheek allusion to the pitiful state of modern art? That garbage is Freddy Got Fingered, and that exhibit is Hollywood. At face value it just seems like a poorly done film by a comedian trying to use his name to get a few butts in the seats before his irrelevancy arrives, but when scrutinized as a commentary of comedy films do the pieces start to fall into place. Tropes like the Protagonist being an unremarkable honkey, gross-out designed to get some cheap quick chuckles, side-characters who occupy the space solely for comedic relief, a shoe-horned romantic side-plot, and an equally as shoehorned in happy ending are all present in a mocking fashion. So many of these Hollywood schlockfests that this movie is paying homage to abuse tropes in some vain attempt to trick the audience into thinking they’re having a good time, when in reality it just reminds viewers of films that they’ve already watched before and could be enjoying instead. All of the awkward and uncomfortable scenes of gross-out and romance are purposeful, because nothing is quite as awkward and uncomfortable than a film disengaging the audience with its own mediocrity. “This is what it’s like to endure this trash!” Drunkenly screams Freddy Got Fingered atop the tallest piece of furniture in the room, while also exposing its genitals to keep you from getting too comfortable around it. Unlike the films it is parodying, its obsession with making a fool out of audiences rips them away from the comfort of the cinema, making them genuinely ask if it is worth wasting their time watching a film called Freddy Got Fingered. Even the title is an intentional slight, as it seems to be completely untethered to the actual plotline and is instead a reference to a seemingly inconsequential scene. But then again, that is the point of it all. Tom Green is an artist, and on his canvas is a portrait of Hollywood with all of the ugly little imperfections that cause a movie like this to be created. But this is just the meta-narrative of Freddy Got Fingered, something that you could find all over the internet. Why do I resonate with it so much, and what about it makes it so exceptional that led to this unhealthy fascination?

    Every instance that I’ve rewatched Freddy Got Fingered has always brought about a new side to it, and in the process leaves me craving for more. Gord is an interesting take on the average leading man. He is on the surface bland and inoffensive, made so in order to allow the majority of the audience to immediately identify with him, said group being 20-something skater guys with unrealistic expectations of themselves. Made especially ironic when after the introduction of Gord as an adept skateboarding rebel escaping from authority, he starts to show that in reality he is an unlikeable, bratty, entitled, and all around unpleasant person. Barely a scene passes before we see him masturbate a horse while exclaiming he is a farmer to his father who is not present, seemingly a crude gag but is in reality an insight into his low self worth caused by his imposter syndrome stemming from distant paternal relationship. I would like to remind you, dear reader, that I am still writing of Freddy Got Fingered, in case you were beginning to think I have lost my mind (The answer is yes by the way). All throughout the film Gordon Brody puts on masks for different situations, never allowing himself to be who he is. When infiltrating the Animation studio where he wishes to pitch his cartoons, he pretends to be a mailman to get past reception and then impersonates a police officer when the former stops being effective. Donning the visage of a British Bobby, he dashes into the restaurant where the man he is searching for, Mr. Wallace, is eating. Showing him his cartoons, Wallace is impressed with the potential they have, but says that they are incoherent and lack real substance. Upon rejection, Gord puts a pistol in his mouth before Wallace stops him and advises what he should do to improve. Gord was genuinely ready to blow his brains out the back of his skull if he wasn’t able to get his show greenlit, and it hit me in that moment that he isn’t just some random jackass, but a victim of detrimentally low self-esteem.

The origins of his complex are made apparent when he goes back home to Oregon and are reintroduced to his Family. We see that his father Jim, played by Rip Torn, is disappointed in his return and begins to sneer at him for his failure. This father and son dynamic always has tension in every scene from this point onwards. Gord, who just wants to be accepted for who he is and not judged by what the world expects him to be, is always at the receiving end of Jim’s wrath, who values his idea of a successful life over the happiness of his sons. From here it becomes little wonder why Gord is the way he is, all his life he was told that who he was is not good enough, he has to be what his father wants if he is to be considered worthy of not only love, but being treated with a modicum of dignity. Whenever Gord acts eccentric or divulges his interests to his father, they are met with either resentment supplemented by verbal assault, or physical violence. After a late-night skateboard outing to escape from his father’s wrath goes awry, he visits his convalescing friend in the hospital, whereupon he meets one of the more interesting characters in relation to Gord, the love interest Betty.   

A horny wheelchair bound temptress may not seem like it upon first glance, but Betty is actually the most interesting character out of the entire cast. She feels genuine, introduced as a bored receptionist flipping a coffee creamer idly. Gord immediately strikes up a conversation, whereupon he and the audience find out she has an interest in physics, and apparently an interest in him as well. Betty is strangely well written for what most considered at the time to be a crass sexual joke, so much so that she would actually be a better protagonist than him. She is everything Gord is not, she’s smart, funny, ambitious, and  kind to a fault. Even her side plot to create a rocket powered wheelchair makes for a much more unique plot than the one given. Even Gord reciprocates this sentiment in their meeting, lying that he is a stockbroker in an attempt to impress her. In fact, sectioning her off as just the dull protagonist's love interest is a jab at how women in these movies are only there to serve in the development for the male protagonist, just nothing more than their muse. Nonetheless, without this relationship the movie would lose a lot of its soul. Romantic chemistry in comedy films is always hit or miss, but Gord and Betty do seem to have it surprisingly. They’re both silly and impulsive, creatively driven to a fault, but just different enough to eek out the best and worst in them. Gord  thinks that what he wants to do with his life is wasteful, but Betty doesn’t. Now I don’t mean that she directly affirms that he is worthwhile like most poorly written love interests would, stroking their lover’s(and by extension the director’s) ego, rather she confronts him with her optimism. He asks if she would feel stupid and like a loser if her experiment failed. Taken aback at first, she questions why she would, relaying that her failures are just as important as her successes. Gord’s self-worth is directly tied to his ability to succeed, whereas Betty doesn’t need this affirmation. Their dialogue further cements how detrimental his father’s overbearingness was to his outlook, and how he is slowly beginning to realize how destructive that mindset is. 

At their dinner date, Jim sees Gord and Betty across the restaurant, then reveals that Gord was lying to both him and her about his office job while poking fun at her disability, leading to a father-son scuffle that throws the entire floor into utter chaos. Cops show up, Gord and Jim are detained, and Betty bails Gord out. Most mediocre comedies at this point would have the love interest be upset that her significant other lied to her, leading to him having to make things right to repair their relationship before the happy ending. Breaking the mold, Betty does not get angry with Gord even a smidgen, choosing to be understanding of his situation now that she caught a glimpse into his home-life. She just plain likes Gord, willing to put up with him more than she really should, but still chooses to look past his lies and self-destructive nature for who he truly is, someone who just wants to be accepted by the world around him. Someone just like her.

Right after that enaction of social terrorism performed by the Brody father and son duo, they decide it would be best to go to family therapy and assail the audience with what I fondly refer to it as, “The Scene.” “The Scene” is Freddy Got Fingered’s statement to the world, it is what instills a man with the impetus to rewatch a glorified stoner daydream for the ninth time and leave him wanting more! Gord accuses his father, in a final act of defiance, of molesting his younger brother Freddy. During the ensuing confusion Gord picks up a bust of Sigmund Freud and throws it into the glass window pane, allowing him to escape into the evening sun. The authorities take Freddy away and send him to The Home for Molested Children, and the family slowly unravels from then on. Besides the heavy handed metaphor of Freud’s theories being used as a way for Gord to escape his predicament while simultaneously discrediting them, “The Scene” also recontextualizes Freddy, innocuous of a character as he is, as Gord’s foil. He is in the movie very little but when he is it is to serve one of two purposes: To be compared to Gord, or to be treated as an object. During breakfast much earlier in the film after a fight between Gord and Jim, Freddy tries to explain to his brother that he should grow up. Gord, surprisingly, talks down to him and halts the conversation.

Gord: “He's driving me insane.”

Freddy: “No. No, you're driving him insane. You're older than me and you still live at home. I have a job, you know. I pay my own way.”

Gord: “You work in a bank. Should I be dazzled?”

Freddy: “Well, at least I don't live at home!”

Gord: “No, you live in a tiny shithole and you come here to eat for free.”

With these lines it is plain to see that despite Freddy’s idea of success directly lining up with his father’s, he is even more pitiful than Gord. What little we know of him is to show that his acquiescence to his father’s expectations has left him bereft of not only genuine personal success, but of dignity itself. When child protective services come to take him away, he is half naked, mouth agape, watching open heart surgery on television, a palpable indication of emptiness. He isn’t treated as an adult either, as his protests to the police fall on deaf ears as both them and the psychologist infantilize him. Why would Tom Green name this movie after a character like Freddy, whose lack of presence and characterization make him little more than an afterthought when looking back on the story? Or did I just answer my own question? Freddy is not a character because he is not allowed to be one, he is just too passive and accepting of his circumstances for him to stand out. All he can be is a doll that Jim uses to dress up as the perfect son, and this passiveness leads to Gord, the “failure,” to both pity and resent what he let himself become. That’s why Gord accuses their father of molesting him, after all he does narratively violate Freddy’s autonomy by consistently making decisions for him. Evidently enough, as soon as Gord dons a suit for a quick bit Jim is elated because he believes that his son finally gave in to his demands for him to get a job, because he is acting more like his obedient brother. In this sense Freddy is the most tragic member of the Brody clan, a literal manchild whose growth was stunted by overbearing guardians. When I think of him, a bonsai tree comes to mind. Sure, it looks healthy, but when you realize that it could have grown into a much bigger plant if it were not for its small pot, that realization of wasted potential comes with a tinge of melancholy.

I want to end this essay with a moral that I took away from Freddy Got Fingered, as strange enough as that sounds, and what it has to say about art as a whole. Put simply, this is a story about revenge. Despite and because of his Father’s harsh ways, Gord managed to take from the trauma he sustained throughout his life and sublimated it into his animation. Creation not only lets him heal, but also acts as retaliation against Jim once he becomes successful. So long as you have the drive to prove everyone’s doubts and admonishments wrong by persevering out of wicked spite, you will have the last laugh. Freddy Got Fingered is a story about revenge through artistic expression, and I think that is quite beautiful.

[medicifm]

*  not  me  actually  writing  an  intro  the  night  before  like  i  always  mean  to  😳  hennyway  hey  biddies  ,  i'm  chloe  ,  im  in  the  snowy  part  of  pst  ,  &  i  use  she / her  pns  .  i’ve  been  . . . . . . .  scouring  the  tags  for  an  rp  like  this  so  im  so  excited  to  bring  this  newish  muse  of  mine  here  !   im  here to  do  the  honours  of  introducing  my  himbo - on - the outside , manipulative - shit - on - the - inside  . . .  oscar  🤡

(  twenty  three , cis  man , he / him  ) ✉ ― hey  babes , have  you  met  OSCAR  MEDICI ?  they’re  working  here  as  THE  HEAD  CHEF  AT  LORENZO’S ,  a  few  villas  down  from  where  you’re  staying  .  you  might  hear  them  singing  ALRIGHTY  APHRODITE  BY  PEACH  PIT  playing  from  their  villa  ,  it’s  their  favourite  song  .  yes  ,  they  hear  that  they  look  like  JACK  GILINSKY  a  lot  ,  actually  -  it’s  really  uncanny  .  their  friends  back  home  in  SYDNEY , AUSTRALIA  say  that  if  they  were  on  a  tv  show  ,  their  trope  would  be  THE  WOLF  IN  SHEEP’S  CLOTHING  ,  how  funny  is  that  ? ✎ chloe , 22 , she/her , pst

𝐢  .

pinterest  |  wanted  plots  |  

𝐢𝐢  .

name  :  oscar  gabriel  medici

age  :  twenty  three

dob  /  sign  :  december  4th  ,  1997  /  sagittarius  sun  ,  leo  moon  ,  libra  rising 

pob  :  sydney , australia

gender / pronouns  :  cis  man  &  he / him / his

career :  head  chef  at  lorenzo’s  ,  full - time  heathen  ,  professional  disappointment  for  mothers  everywhere  .

drinking / drugs / smoking :  yes / more  often  than  he’d  admit / never .  

religion  :  jewish  background  ,  currently  non - practicing .

physical  :  jack  gilinsky  fc ,  dark  brown / black  longish  curls  (  reference  )  ,  dark  brown  eyes  ,  canon  jack  g’s  tattoos  ,  no  piercings  ,  6′2″  ,  175  lbs  ,  lean  but  strong  .  tattoos  a  la  canon!jack  ,  pearly  white  smile  that  he  may  . . .  or  may  not  . . .   use  crest  3D  white  strips  weekly  to  maintain  .  lots  of  burns  &  scars  from  kitchen  mishaps  on  his  hands  &  arms  .

traits  :  hard - working  ,  flighty  ,  intelligent  ,  hedonistic  ,  charismatic  ,  intense  ,  volatile  ,  

other  :  speaks  weird  french  (  aussie  accent  tings  )  ,  tans  easily  but  wears  sunscreen  nonetheless  ,  works  hard  parties  harder  ,  can’t  read  a  lick  of  french  but  spends  a  lot  of  his  free  time  with  a  coffee  &  a  new  paperback  ,  has  a  bit  of  an  internal  vendetta  against  rich  people  (  for  no  real  reason  ,  he  just  doesn’t  like  most  of  them  )  ,  has  ins  with  a  bunch  the  local  farmers  &  visits  them  weekly  ,  pretends  he  isn’t  lowkey  addicted  to  nicotine  administered  via  a  puff  bar  ,  liquor  of  preference  is  tequila  or  red  wine  ,  drives  a  lil  vespa  around  town  for  the  gag  of  it  (  loves  seeing  it  haphazardly  parked  amongst  a  bunch  of  luxury  cars  )  ,  

character  inspo  :  jess  mariano  (  gilmore  girls  )  , gordon  ramsey  🤡 ,  patrick verona ( 10 things i hate about you ) , ferris bueller ( ferris bueller’s day off ) , han solo ( star wars ) .

𝐢𝐢𝐢  .

oscar’s  arrival  was  as  unwanted  to  his  parents  as  could  be  :  a  father  whose  tendencies  leaned  towards  alcoholism  &  abusing  whoever  was  in  arms  reach  ,  a  mother  whose  life  was  more  or  less  spent  at  the  nursing  home  she  worked  as  a  nurse  at  ,  evading  home  .  he  became  a  self - inflicted  loner  ,  preferring  to  do  literally  the  exact  opposite  of  what  was  expected  or  wanted  from  him  .  he  had  a  few  friends  he  ran  with  ,  but  watching  them  all  go  off  &  study  or  prepare  for  university  solidified  in  oscar’s  mind  that  the  non - traditional  route  was  for  him  .  growing  up  by  the  water  ,  oscar  always  felt  more  drawn  to  skip  school  &  head  to  the  beach  than  he  did  obeying  his  parents  wishes  .   

one  of  his  solaces  was  his  grandfather  ,  gabriel  ,  who  owned  an  italian  restaurant  in  a  beach  town  north  of  sydney  .  whenever  the  weather  was bad  &  oscar  felt  like  ditching  class  ,  he’d  head  over  to  his  nono’s  restaurant  where  his  ass  would  be  put  to  work  as  soon  as  he  set  eyes  on  the  restaurant  .  it  was  tough  work  ,  but  challenging  in  a  way  that  fanned  the  flames  in  oscar’s  heart  ,  rather  than  dimming  them  .  by  the  time  he was  a  teenager  he  was  working  in  the  restaurant  everyday  after  school  , an  agreement  between  him  &  his  grandfather  framed  on  the  back  wall  that  stated  that  as  long  as  oscar  kept  from  flunking  out  ,  he  was  allowed  to  spend  as  little  or  as  much  time  in  the  kitchen  as  he  pleased .  

his  absolute  defiance  of  anything  traditional  &  following  the  rules  made  him  unpopular  with  adults  ,  but  lowkey  cool  with  the  girls  .  by  the  time  he  was  sixteen  ,  he  was  losing  his  focus  on  the  restaurant  &  his  grades  &  spending  more  &  more  time  chasing  after  girls  .  his  nono  tried  to  get oscar  to  come  back  &  focus  ,  but  as  always  ,  anything  he’s  asked  to  do  quickly  becomes  the  thing  he’s  running  from  the  most  .

tw  :  death  ,  cancer  .  around  his  eighteenth  birthday  ,  his  grandfather  suddenly  fell  ill  with  a  rare  form  of  cancer  that  took  his  life  six  weeks  after  diagnosis  ,  which  rocked  oscar’s  world  .  he  felt  overwhelming  guilt  that  he  hadn’t  spent  more  time  with  his  grandfather  ,  which  manifested  itself  as  oscar  dropping  out  of  school  a  year  shy  of  graduation  to  commit  himself  fully  to  perfecting  his  grandfather’s  techniques  ,  learning  all  of  his  recipes  (  read  :  pouring  over  dozens  of  handwritten  cookbooks )  in  some  failed  attempt  to  get  back  some  time  with  him  .  oscar  hadn’t  been  close  with  his  parents  in  years  ,  more  or  less  seeing  them  as  wardens  of  a  prison  he  wanted  nothing  to  do  with  .  his  grandfather’s  will  left  him  the  deed  to  the  restaurant  ,  with  an  ask  that  oscar  would  promise  to  act  on  whatever  he  felt  called  towards  ,  rather  than  doing  what  others  expected  of  him  .  to  be  candid  ,  this  whole  situation  crushed  him  .

eventually  ,  he  decided  he’d  had  enough  of  the  stifling  community  he’d  grown  up  in  .  he  sold  the  restaurant  to  one  of  the  regulars  ,  a  wealthy  man  who  he’d  come  to  acknowledge  as  somewhat  of  an  uncle  ;  a  safe  pair  of  hands  who  would  treat  his grandfather’s  legacy  with  as  much  passion  &  respect  as  oscar  himself  would  .  so  he  packed  a  bag  ,  texted  his  mom  that  he  was  going  traveling  ,  &  got  on  a  flight  that  evening  .  he  traveled  all  around  -  first  through  central  america  ,  then  through  europe  ,  throughout  asia  &  africa  ,  &  spent  a  few  months  driving  a  van  across  the  continental  united  states  &  canada  for  fun  . 

eventually  ,  he  started  getting  low - ish  on  money  ,  &  decided  to  settle  in  one  of  his  favourite  places  he’d  visited  :  southern  france  .  he  arrived  in  early  2018  ,  taking  on  whatever  menial  tasks  he  could  while  learning  french  until  he  got  a  position  as  a  line  cook  in  an  italian  restaurant  .  a  few  years  later  ,  he’s  made  his  way  up  to  filling  the  head  chef  position  ,  an  honour  he  takes  with  pride  .  he’s  implemented  many  of  his  own  recipes  while  using  flavours  he’s  learned  from  his  travels  ,  with  ingredients  straight  from  local  farmers  .  he’s  earned  the  restaurant  a  two michelin  star  rating  ,  &  is  constantly  striving  for  more  to  get  that  last  star  (  both  for  his  own  ego  as  well  as  a  secret  debt  to  his  grandfather  )  .

𝐢𝐯  .

ok  but  that  vid  where  gordon  puts  two  pieces  of  bread  on  someone’s  head  &  calls  them  an  idiot  sandwich  ?  that’s  oscar  .  intense  as  fuck  in  the  kitchen  ,  &  best  nobody  catch  an  attitude  about  it  bc  he  will  not  hesitate  to  hand  them  their  ass  on  a  silver  platter  .

another  gordon  reference  :  you  know  how  he’s  the  spawn  of  satan with  adults  ,  but  the  sweetest  ,  most  helpul  guy  with  children  ?  that’s  oscar  with  his  staff  vs  people  he  wants  something  from  .  whether  its  to  sleep  with  them  (  usually  his  first  instinct  to  be  fair  )  ,  their  money  or  clout  ,  or  to  get  into  some  wild  adventure  some  random  resort  staff  wouldn’t  dream  of  getting  into  ,  he  can  turn  on  the  charm  whenever  needed  .

can  go  from  absolutely  demoralizing  someone  in  the  kitchen  to  stepping  out  into  the  lounge  to  schmooze  with  his  friends  or  cougars  who  leave  phat  tips  in  0.2  seconds  .  the  speed  at  which  his  mood  can  completely  180  is  one  of  the  seven  world  wonders  (  last  i  checked  )  .

his  love  language  is  absolutely  acts  of  service  .  catch  him  actually  falling  in  love  once  in  a  blue  moon  &  making  it  his  mission  to  cook  her  extravagant  meals  everyday  .  

the  wolf  in  sheep’s  clothing  label  epitomizes  his  nice  ,  helpful  ,  charismatic  exterior  ,  while  ulterior  motives  &  disdain  for  those  who  grew  up  with  more  money  than  he  did  lurk  beneath  the  surface  . 

he  can  be  MEAN  when  someone  fucks  him  over  or  pushes  him  farther  than  he  wants  -  isn’t  afraid  to  go  for  the  low  blows  or  send  someone  home  with  an  identity  crisis  if  it  protects  himself  .

lowkey  alcoholic  but  he’s  not  ready  for  that  conversation  yet  .  he  sees  it  more  as  perks  of  the  location  &  atmosphere  he’s  found  himself  in  .

also  lowkey  falls  in  love  HARD  ,  like  this  man  is  a  closeted  romantic  but  self - sabotages  all  potential  relationships  before  they  can  get  to  that  point  out  of  fear  he’ll  be  unable  to  live  life  of  his  own  volition  (  takes  a  flaky  philophobic  sagittarius  to  know  a  flaky  philophobic  sagittarius  🤡  )  .  has  probably  only  had  a  few  real  relationships  besides  flings  bc  he’s  afraid  .

𝐯  .

check  out  my  wanted  plots  tag  listed  here  ,  as  well  as  my  pinterest  wanted  plots  board  here  .  here   are  some  other  suggestions  hehe  :

best  friend  /  ride  or  die  :  someone  who  knows  about  his  past  ,  keeps  him  grounded  when  he’s  lk  spiraling  &  wants  to  drop  everything  &  flee  to  some  far  flung  corner  of  the  earth  .

actual  relationship  :  it  was  fast - burn  with  deep  feelings  (  not  them  thinking  they’re  soulmates  after  dating  for  a  month  . . .  pete  &  ariana  type  beat  )  but  completely  unrealistic  .  they  have  their  own  life  ,  he’s  pretty  much  tied  to  the  restaurant  ,  not  to  mention  his  lack  of  sharing  anything  about  his  childhood / life  back  home  .  they  loved  &  cared  for  each  other  ,  but  crashed  &  burned  fairly  quickly  because  of  how  idealistic  it  was  .  they  can  either  be  on  bad  or  good  terms  now  .

hateship  with  sexual  tension  😈

summer  flings  !!

fake  boyfriend  :  he  shows  up  on  her  arm  to  her  family’s  events  where  she’s  expected  to  have  a  partner  .  it’s  not  a  real  relationship  ,  but  her  parents  don’t  need  to  know  that  .  he  plays  the  part  &  satisfies  her  parents  beyond  the  bare  minimum  ,  &  in  return  she  invites  him  to  parties  ,  takes  him  out  on  her  family’s  yacht  ,  etc  etc  .  we  luv  some  symbiosis  

i  can  always  use  more  fwbs  hehehe

squad  :  a  group  of  people  who  do  everything  together  ,  have  a  chaotic  group  chat  ,  have  nicknames  for  one  another  ,  are  utd  on  each  other’s  sex  lives  ,  party  all  night  then  show  up  to  brunch  hungover  together  .  

cat  &  mouse  :  someone  he’s  pursuing  who  isn’t  quite  giving  in  ,  &  vice  versa  .  maybe  it’s  been  going  on  a  few  years  ,  everytime  they’re  in  st  tropez  they  have  this  weird  lil  flirtationship  thing  goin  on  until  she  leaves  ,  they  forget  about  one  another  ,  then  pick  it  right  back  up  when  she  returns  .

confidant  :  preferably  someone  from  a  working  class  background  who  understands  his  plight  of  being  a  worker  amongst  people  who  expect  to  be  waited  on  .

enemies  :  they  don’t  like  his  attitude  ,  &  he  doesn’t  like  them  in  return  .  lots  of  eye  rolls  ,  shit  talking  ,  &  tension  between  their  mutual  friends  .

we’re  sleeping  together  but  we  shouldn’t  be  but  that’s  half  the  fun :  for  whatever  reason  they  became  friends  ,  starting  hooking  up  despite  it  not  being  a  good  idea  (  read  :  he’s  exes  with  one  of  her  friends  ,  her  parents  want  her  focused  on  career  ,  they’re  part  of  the  same  friend  group  ,  etc )  . . . but  now  they  can’t  stop  .  lots  of  stolen  glances  across  rooms  ,  squeezing  past  one  another  in  a  crowded  club  just  close  enough  for  a  quick  touch  to  the  back  ,  quietly  leaving  one  another’s  places  the  morning  after  &  playing  dumb  to  anyone  who  asks  . 

[saeryuart]

Ikevamp Hugger Tiers

... Welcome to the first and last piece of writing I’ll likely ever post on here lmao. I couldn’t get this outta my head and this happened XD If your guy happens to be one of the lower tiers, sorry! 

The entire list is just how I think it would go, soooo yeah. Though funnily enough, the guys listed in the tiers themselves aren’t necessarily in order lmao. 

Includes Vlad and Charles! Because it’s gonna be a long af post, writing is under the cut!

TOP TIER HUGGERS

Napoleon:

-Honorary member #1 of the #GotThisSquad

-Man radiates big bro energy, and if you don’t know it right now, you WILL know it when he takes you in his arms. They’re warm, strong and protective.

The kinds of hugs he tends to give vary between being playful or protective. If he’s feeling playful, he’d probably hug you from behind and murmur teasing, loving remarks in your ear. He’s particularly fond of nuzzling his cheek in your hair.

-Man’s also got big hands, great for holding your waist, along with other things mhmmm~ ;)) they’re great for making you feel even more secure than you normally would, and that’s saying a lot

-With his hugs, he wants to tell you he’s not only protecting your body, but your heart and soul if you’re willing. They’re all encompassing, and are always gonna have you feeling safe, no matter what

-Sleepy hugs are arguably the best kind of hugs to receive from him though, bc all filters are off. Any reservations the man might normally have are gone as he pulls you into bed to hug the life outta you 

-Hope you don’t have any important plans for the day bc you’ll be stuck there with his face buried in the crook of your neck, nuzzling into you like a cat. 

-Please hug him, you won’t regret it. .... If you don’t have plans.

Overall rating: 9/10

Comte:

-Leader of the #GotThisSquad, man knows what he is doing

-He’s super observant of people by nature, so he’ll know immediately what it is you want. You someone that’s more energetic and wants tight hugs? That’s what you’re gonna get. You’re a shy, hesitant bean that isn’t quite used to contact? He’s gotchu girl~ He’ll hold you gently but loosely, so you have the chance to step away if you want to

-but if he had it his way, he would put the person in the gentlest but secure hold. Especially fond of having his hands stroke their hair and back.

-Speaking of which, his hands are like magic, able to melt your worries and tensions away. They just coax you into relaxing in his arms

-He personally prefers to be the one doing the holding, but if you want to spoil him, you don’t need to work that hard to convince him - running your fingers through his hair is a surefire way to make a contented sigh escape his lips.

-It’s a bone-deep kind of satisfaction that Comte wouldn’t trade for anything in the world, cherishing the person in his arms

-It doesn’t matter whether you’re happy or sad, he’s your go-to person if you’re in need of a hug

Overall rating: Sugar Daddy/10

Vincent:

-Final member of the #GotThisSquad.

-Like a warm summer day, his hugs are super soft and sweet. Somehow, despite being a painter and hardly stepping out of the mansion, he smells like freshly washed sheets.

-His hands are gentle and soft, but a little calloused from constantly washing and handling his art supplies and paintings.

-While holding you, expect sweet nothings to be whispered in your ear. Man loves you so much, he has to make sure you know everything that’s in his thoughts, EVERYTHING.

-His fingers tend to absently trace all the little things he loves about you; your hair, your cheeks, your lips, the way your eyes shine when they reflect his own loving gaze in yours... it all makes him want to hold you more and never let go.

-Particularly fond of holding your hand while hugging you, intertwining your fingers together as naturally as breathing. Also enjoys touching foreheads with your own, staring into your eyes.

-He hopes he makes you feel as beautiful as he sees you.

Overall rating: Sunshine Boi/10 **sobs** 

HIGH TIER HUGGERS

Leonardo:

-BLAST FURNACE.

-This man is a portable heater who can’t stand not being in your arms for 0.000001 seconds. Especially when he’s ready to take a nap.

-Great during Winters, but the Summer... welp. Run MC. Other than that though, he gives great bear hugs.

-He’s so huge, he literally dwarfs any and everything under that hugeass coat. TBH you’ll either hate it or love it, depending on how good your blood circulation is lmaooo

-Man likes giving back hugs when in a teasing mood, but when he’s feeling more romantic, he prefers you to be facing him. Odds are, he’ll be pulling you into his arms, hand tucking the back of your head into his chest.

-His bear hugs are reassuring, those broad arms and strong chest doing wonders in making you feel safe and secure. Depending on how tall you are, he’d pull you into his chest or the crook of his neck. ... And did I mention that chest? Damn Daddy.

-Odds are, he’s gonna smell like tobacco too. If you don’t like that sorta thing, that could be something of a turnoff. Man’s a giant too, so odds are you’re going to be an armrest half the time, rip.

Overall rating: 8/10

Arthur:

-Like his personality, his hugs are playful and endearing. He LOVES cuddles and by Jove, if Arthur Conan Doyle wants cuddles, he WILL get cuddles.

-Repeat after me. CLINGY. MAN.

-It’s practically canon that, like a puppy, he wants your attention on him ALL THE TIME. So eye contact is a must, lots of small kisses peppered across your face to make you laugh; your laughter never fails to make his heart skip a beat.

-Skinship is practically a requirement, it’s Arthur’s love language. Up there with gift giving.

-He loves holding your waist while breathing in your scent in the crook of your neck. He wants to be enveloped by you, your presence assures him more than anything. But that doesn’t mean the hugs are a one-sided thing, either.

-If in a particularly good mood, he’ll hum some random English tune while swaying you side to side. Sometimes, that swaying might evolve into a full-blown dance, with him twirling you around the mansion floor with laughter.

-With you, he always wants you to feel as good as you make him, for you bring out the best side of him.

Overall rating: 8.5/10

Vlad:

-0/10, momma didn’t raise you to fall for no shady man, wouldn’t recommend.

-KIDDING, I’M KIDDING. .... Mostly.

-Bc he’s such a shady man with little to no experience in physical contact, one would think a hug from him would be the worst idea one could have if they ignored his pretty face and bewitching eyes-

-Warning: Once he’s in love, his hugs are the singular most addicting thing besides his kisses. MAYDAY, MAYDAY, ABORT!! Man is dangerously attractive, and he knows it.

-Bc he’s always around flowers, he always smells great. Like nectar from the sweetest flower, his sweet, honeyed words would coax you over until, before you know it, you’re trapped within his arms.

-He’s not planning on letting go either, because only he deserves to see such beauty and tend to it. As far as he’s concerned, the other weeds he calls ‘men’ could be nipped in the bud ok that’s enough flower puns, I promise.

-His hugs are unbelievably gentle, but possessive. You’ll be handled so delicately, you’d wonder if he mistook you for glass - no, even glass was handled with less care than how he’s holding you right now.

-He has to have eye contact while holding you. No exceptions. He has to know, what are you thinking right now? If you feel like breaking away, surely he has other ways of convincing you...

Overall rating: Intervention/10

Charles:

-TACKLE HUUUUUUGSSSS

-Hope you have a strong back, because he won’t be able to resist glomping you over half the time.

-If he’s particularly excited, he’ll be playfully swinging you around after. You getting dizzy? Tooooo bad, maybe after a couple more minutes. As long as you don’t throw up, babe~

-Man may be a doctor but dammit, he has the right to cuddle his honey, too! Hmm, this sounds familiar. Must be a doctor thing.

=Nose boops and cheek rubs. All that disgustingly cheesy and playful shit that makes anyone watching gag from the diabetes. 

-If he’s feeling mischievous enough, he might bury his nose into the crook of your neck to blow hot air on your skin to make you squirm. It never fails to make him giggle.

-His main focus is making you laugh and have a good time, nothing else matter.s He likes the way laughter makes your eyes crinkle juuust right~

Overall rating: 7.5/10 bc his hugs will break someone’s back one day-

MID-TIER HUGGERS

Dazai:

-A surprisingly decent hugger.

-One wouldn’t think him capable of giving hugs with such genuity and emotion, unless you were the person he were doing it to. These special hugs are especially private, reserved for the irreplacable person in Dazai’s life.

-Despite his appearances, he is a compassionate person deep down, and wants to see you happy. Especially as the one who taught him to care for his own life.

-Like Arthur, he likes making you laugh. With his arms encircling your middle from behind, he likes giving surprise tickles to make you squeak and jump, promting his own quiet chuckles. Your reactions never fail to amuse him.

-His hugs are literally breathtaking, because you’ll be too busy squirming with breathless laughter to escape out of his arms. It makes his eyes light up in a way that’s startlingly different from the smile he shows the others; the closest thing to a true smile.

-For more somber moments, he holds you like he’s never going to hold you again. You can feel how much he cherishes you with how gently but securely he embraces you. He likes doing it from behind so you don’t have to see the pained expression on his face as he holds your hand for comfort.

-The only real downside is that again these hugs are especially private, so no one else gets to see. A shame too, or not, depending on how you look at it. uwu

Overall rating: Soft sad boi/10 whoops I kinda accidentally turned this into angst.

Isaac:

-Awkward Blushy Boi #1.

-Bc he’s so awkward and shy, his hugs are gonna be stiff af at first. He might not even respond at all, depending on how startled he is. Or how fast you let go of him

-If you do let go first, he’s gonna be lowkey highkey disappointed.

-Good thing is, because his hands are so used to delicate work, his touch is gentle and precise. So if you’re sensitive to physical sensations, he’ll pick up on that. If he does manage to brush against a sensitive area, expect a ton of stammered apologies and red cheeks.

-At first, his initial touches are shaky and unsure. But when he starts to gain confidence, his hands are curious and careful.

-Give him some time to let the hedgehog bristles come down a bit, and you’ve got yourself a teddy bear. Unfortunately, his hugs are going to remain awkward for some time bc-

-wHAT IF HE HOLDS YOU FOR TOO LONG, WOULD YOU GET ANNOYED??? DOES IT COME OFF AS TOO CLINGY, WHAT IF- ***incoherent anxious screaming into the void***

-Error: Isaac Newton has stopped working.exe

-Once he gets used to you though, his hugs become super comforting. Boy’s a string bean, so his arms aren’t the most buff. But the way he holds you is so awkwardly sweet, you can feel the sincerity behind his actions.

-Please give him a chance, he’s so worth it T_T

Overall rating: 7/10

Jeanne:

-Awkward Blushy Boi #2

-Similarly to Isaac, he’s super standoffish at first, especially with the whole ‘don’t touch me, you’ll get dirty blah blah blah’ spiel sHUT UP AND LET ME LOVE YOU.

-Don’t expect him to ever initiate hugs, not at first. It’s a long work in progress with this man. But pls stick with him, he is so, so worth it.

-Jeanne isn’t a person that gives away affection lightly, so whenever he hugs you, expect him to mean it. You will be weak-kneed at the sheer compassion and warmth behind his actions, even through his gloves.

-But if you do ever hug him, even though it’s hesitant, he’ll never fail to hug you back bc he’s a soft boi that doesn’t want to hurt your feelings.

-Despite having the tendency to push people away,his hugs are gentle and protective. They let you know you’re safe and not alone. Giver #2 of great comfort hugs.

-Once he’s comfortable, he’ll like the feeling of your bare skin against his palms, so he’ll start hugging you with his gloves off.

-Develops a habit of gently rubbing his thumb across the back of your hand; he likes how small they feel in his own. It makes him feel protective, renewing his vow of keeping you safe.

-Unfortunately, he gets points deducted for never initiating contact at first, as well as his hugs being rather stiff for a long time.

Overall Rating: 6.5/10 pls love-

Sebastian:

-Hugging? When you could be WORKING?? It’s more likely than you think.

-Man is normally reserved, and not one for physical contact. But his touch is surprisingly gentle and reassuring. Particularly if you’re feeling upset or stressed.

-He’s fond of back rubs and closeness as he’s holding you. Tucking your head under his chin, his hold is gentle but firm, reminding you of your good qualities and what he loves about you. 

-Because he’s not as remarkable as the other men in the mansion, he might need some extra reassurance that he’s good enough for you. He’ll appreciate it if you rub his back, especially after a rough day. 

-Under those gloves, his hands are rough and calloused from his work as a butler, but the way he embraces you couldn’t be more deliberate or careful.

-Sebastian considers you his little miracle, the fact that you came from the same timeline as him gives him a new level of comfort as a piece of home away from home.

-Despite his strictness during work, he makes sure you know how much you really mean to him. While he disapproves of PDA in front of the residents, he doesn’t mind sneaking a cuddle now and then... in privacy of course.

-But despite these qualities, the problem with Sebastian’s hugs is that they hardly get a chance to happen.

-Man is too busy working himself to death helping the mansion residents, and has an 18-hour work schedule everyday to spend time with you. Someone save him bls. You’ll be doing both of yourselves a favor.

Overall rating: Workaholic/10

LOW-TIER HUGGERS (I’m so sorry)

Theo:

-Ah yes, Hondje fetish man.

-Like his brusque personality, his grip may be a tad rough, but the way he holds you is protective and gentle. Likes holding the back of your head close to him, arm secure around your waist; he likes the feeling of you belonging to him

-Theo doesn’t really do comfort hugs. Unless your life was in danger or something, he’s much more likely to just pull you in when he feels like having cuddles hugs. Processing emotional depth greater than familial love is a bit of a learning curve for the man. He’s trying.

-His hold is possessive, but affectionate. He likes pulling you in close by the hip when in public; man claims he’s not big into PDA, but he’s proud of his girlfriend and WILL show that off, dammit. 

-Also claims he’s not clingy, but he’ll hold onto you for as long as physically possible until he has to let go. So you’d better not be thinking of going anywhere Hondje, not when you have your Master to please. Yeah, sure ok sounds fake but ok.

-He doesn’t initiate hugs often, but he likes holding you in quiet moments when you’re alone. Not that he’ll admit that out loud. Like Vincent, he likes touching foreheads with yours to stare into your eyes. They’re like the perfect works of art to him, a masterpiece he can stare at for hours. He likes how expressive they are, the way they light up in so many different ways whether you’re happy, angry or excited.

-Honestly, despite the loving shit I give him, he’s only barely in this tier for a couple reasons. But one of them is that he’s not really an affectionate kind of hugger. Theo’s the kind of guy that expresses his love through uh... other physical means. If you catch my drift~ >3

-All in all, his hugs are protective and strong, but also a little rough. Perfect if you want to be assured of your relationship and loved, but not really recommended if you’re looking for something comforting and soothing. 

-TLDR: His hugs are warm, but not versatile. Honest Tsunderes die if they are killed

Overall rating: 6/10

Mozart:

-Awkward Blushy Boy #3. The holy trinity is complete.

-Unfortunately, I’m gonna have to rank Mo as the worst hugger of the mansion guys for a couple reasons. One being his lack of human contact.

-Like Isaac, his hands are very careful. He cherishes you, and wants you to feel the devotion he has for you, so he often handles you as gently as he does his violets.

-But the stage to get there is unbearably long. Like, Jeanne kinda long. In fact, Mo is someone that, (even after he gets together with you), thinks that people only approach him when they have an angle, something to gain from him. But that doesn’t mean he holds back with you.

-His initial hugs are awkward at best, the but number of ways he hugs you is as innumerable as his compositions. A loving, encasing hug for a declaration of affection, a passionate intense embrace when recovering from a close call, entwining of fingers in a quiet moment... you’ll have it all. 

-He sometimes hums some songs in your ear while holding you, particularly if you’re upset. His hand will also be rubbing soothing and gentle circles in your back. Mozart is a passionate, empathic man deep down, and will accept nothing less than your complete comfort.

-Unfortunately, while his hands are beautiful and practically close to perfection in appearance, they’re awfully cold from poor circulation. Doesn’t help that he’s a literal vampire.

-The temperature difference is bound to make you jump a little, but he makes up for it with his gentleness. It’s also why he likes stroking your hair, entwining his fingers together around your waist so you don’t feel the cold as much.

-But the big reason points get deducted off is-

...... I see you reaching for the Purell, asshole. >:(

Overall Rating: Ice Hands/10

Shakespeare:

-D.... do i really need to explain this? ;;

-Don’t get me wrong, the man is very romantic. He never fails to whisper sweet words to sweep you off your feet. Hushed poetics and compliments flow out of his lips with ease, making you feel like a princess in his arms.

-However, like Mozart, his hands are cold from poor circulation. Not to mention... do you smell a hint of blood, coming from him? No, it’s just your imagination, he swears.

-Like the man himself, his embraces are very passionate. He loves holding you close by the waist, making sure your bodies are touching as much as possible. He’s rather fond of bringing a lock of your hair to his lips, kissing it with the flutter of a butterfly’s wings.

-He’s also rather... possessive. When he’s feeling particularly sly, he embraces you sensually from behind, resting his chin on top your shoulder. The way his arms slowly rise to curl around your waist feel like the sweetest trap you can’t bring yourself to escape.

-He’s also one that silently demands eye contact. As he keeps a hold of your waist, he likes to cradle your cheek tenderly, the mismatched wild yellow and blood red faze staring into your soul. The way he searches your eyes for your secrets steals your breath away, as the devotion he pours into the act belies any falsehoods he might’ve told.

-Again, this man is very devoted. Loves you to the point of obsession, really, But would I recommend hugging him personally? Aha ha ha haaa... gimme a while on that one. When the knife he has in his pocket isn’t poking my stomach. And NO, I don’t mean the one you want.

Overall rating: Romantic until someone dies/10 (I SEE those knives sticking out of your coat pocket Shakes, I want your arms, not the damn Iron Maiden).

Faust:

-Man wants you as a guinea pig. Why would you want to hug that. 

-...  Idk enough of him to actually add more than that. Sorry lmao.

Overall rating: Death wish???/10

--- Wow, I am never doing that again sdlkfjsd. I think my wrists have died along with my sinuses making this post lmao. Hopefully everyone was relatively in character! If you actually managed to sit through all of this, you deserve a big round of applause, seriously. I think I’ll stick to drawing tho, kek.

[exhaustedfander]

NFWMB: Part Two

Previous Chapter

a03 link

Word Count: 2,300

Summary: Roman comes to the rescue, offering his much-needed aid. Afterward, he and Logan have a very emotional conversation.

“What in the world are you doing here, Logan?”

Logan flinches at the sound of Roman’s voice, not too far off. He’s here, thank god he’s here.

“And what do you need my help with. From the sounds of things, it was pretty –.” Roman stops dead in his tracks when he lays eyes on his twin bleeding profusely and unconscious, Logan hovering over him and sobbing.

“Oh- oh my god! What happened? Remus? R-Remus, hey,” Roman gasps, quickly rushing to their side and kneeling by his brother.

“Roman, you’ve – you’ve got to do something,” Logan says, still trying, in vain, to hold the piece of sleeve already so soaked in blood to Remus’s wound. “You need to get him out of here. I – I can’t do it, a-a-and –,” Logan pauses, wheezing for breath. Quickly, Roman pulls his sash off and tosses the blood-drenched piece of cloth away, holding the red garment to Remus’s side.

“Remus, can you hear me? Remus? Come – come on,” Roman begs, turning to Logan with panic wide in his eyes. “He isn’t answering. Logan, why isn’t he answering?!”

“He – he lost consciousness a few moments ago.” “What happened to him?”

“A bat,” Logan sniffles, watching as Roman tries to constrict to blood flow, “It – it swooped down, a-and picked him up and bit him. Please, he needs stitches, he needs help a-and we can’t give it to him here. Who- who knows what else might be lurking! The creature could come back.”

Roman snaps his fingers, and in an instant, they’re in the Common Room. It’s a blessing of some kind that none of the others are there to see the gruesome scene unfold. A table is conjured bellow Remus, as well as a good deal of medical supplies. Logan wouldn’t have known how to get out of the imagination, not on his own, but now Roman’s here. My god, he’s really here.

“His – his breathing,” Logan comments in horror, holding the sash to Remus’s gash as Roman fumbles around in the suddenly manifested medical bag. It’s so shallow, Remus looks a few breaths from, from – Logan can’t stop himself from thinking it, no matter how hard he tries. Certainly, a side can’t really die. It wouldn’t – it wouldn’t make any sense! Remus won’t die; Remus can’t die.

“Hey, no, don’t talk like that. He’s going to be fine. I’ve seen him in worse shape before, this – this is nothing,” Roman says, though they’re both painfully aware of the fact that it’s a blatant lie. A side has never been in such a state, plunging them into terrifying unknown territory.

“The creature came out of nowhere. It tried –,” Logan struggled to take a breath, “It tried to take him away.”

“No one’s taking anyone away,” Roman says, seriousness etched into his words. “This thorn isn’t my side isn’t going anyplace that easy."

Roman works with great precision, cleaning the injuries and beginning to stitch the wound at Remus’s side. He works with the practice of a medically trained doctor, and if Logan was in the midframe for it, he’d ask how the hell he knows how to stitch a wound so well. Instead, Logan cards a hand through Remus’s hair, soothingly despite the fact that the Intrusive Side is unconscious, his eyes scanning over his chest over and over, continuing to check for a sign of life.

He helps Roman where he can, even in the state that he’s in. Presses a damp cloth to Remus’s temple, administers pain medication, bandages the less pressing injuries. Patton walks in for a moment, panicking immediately. It takes everything that Logan has in him to express that things are fine, Remus will be fine, don’t worry, don’t tell anyone, not yet. It’s impressive, considering how much Logan is beginning to think that things will not be fine, that death is moments away from rearing its head and taking Remus away for good.

But, somehow, Roman manages to stitch the wound closed and take care of Remus’s other injuries to the best of his ability. Amazingly, there aren’t any broken bones, and Remus is still breathing.

Remus is placed in Logan’s bedroom, as his own is most likely far messier and less sterile than a condition he should be in, and because Logan insists. The moment that Remus is out of the woods, at least as far as they can tell, Logan expresses the fact that he will keep watch of the intrusive side until he awakens.

“I can, too,” Roman says, “You don’t need to be alone.”

“It’s fine,” Logan responds, amazed he’s gotten through a few moments without bursting into tears again, an intensity of emotion he is entirely unfamiliar with, “You’ve done an exceptional job here. You’ve – you’ve saved him, Roman. You should rest, I’ll stay.”

And Roman begins to insist that he should stay and that he’d be perfectly fine with it, but Logan ultimately shuts him down. Defeated, Roman slinks to his room with a heavy heart and exhausted mind, troubled sleep gracing him for a few hours as Logan stays put and sits, his eyes not leaving Remus for anything more than a blink of the eyes.

=+=

“You’re still up?” Logan tilts his head, glancing to see Roman standing in the doorway.

“What’re you doing awake? You haven’t been asleep for more than four hours.”

“And you haven’t slept at all,” Roman points out, stepping into the room and standing beside where Logan is sat. “It’s late, specs.”

“I’m aware.”

“He’s going to be okay,” Roman insists, manifesting a second chair and taking a seat beside his friend, “I promise. It… well, it might’ve been a close call. I don’t know, I still don’t know, if we can die, that is. It’s a wonder I haven’t found out myself, considering all my own close calls,” Roman laughs, though the sound lacks any humor. Logan doesn’t find it funny, either.

“I’d still like to make sure he’s okay,” Logan says, though exhaustion is achingly present in his voice. “I can’t leave him.”

“You’ll exhaust yourself to a point of shut-down, if you aren’t careful,” Roman says, speaking from experience. Logan pinches his temple, his eyes still trained on a sleeping-Remus.

“I don’t care. All that matters is that he's safe.” Silence hangs heavy between the two for a long moment before Roman speaks up, evidently intent on staying with Logan for a while.

“So… you and Remus, huh?”

“What about us?”

“You guys are, like, a thing, right?” Logan shakes his head.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Come on, Lo. I’ve seen you two. I’ve seen the way you look at each other.” The inflection in Roman’s voice is edging on romantic and Logan doesn’t care for that at all.

“We don’t “look at each other” in any way and I have absolutely no idea what you’re referring to,” Logan says tersely, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Logan…” Logan’s heart clenches in his chest. This isn’t a conversation he was intent on having. In fact, he was sure it was one he’d never have, yet it seems Roman has foiled that plan.

“I… care for Remus, very deeply. That's all. I don’t understand why you’re looking into it the way you are.” Roman sighs, the sound heavy with exhaustion and tension.

“I’m sorry.” Logan tilts his head, eyes still settled on Remus.

“What for?”

“For being such a dick to you lately,” Roman sighs, “You and Remus have been spending so much time together and… I dunno… I’ve been a royal prick, haven’t I?” Logan wants to say no, but he can’t entirely disagree. Roman has forfeited spending time with him a great deal lately, and he’s known it has to do with his friendship with Remus. Logan’s silence speaks volumes.

“I know I have. All because you’ve been hanging around my brother, I’ve been ignoring you and that… that wasn’t very princely of me. Jesus, I’m sorry, Logan. I’ve failed to even try to have a relationship with Remus for so long, and now I’ve let it hurt our friendship.” Roman exhales sharply, his shoulders sagging as he buries his face in his hands.

“I don’t hate him, you know. I know it must seem like I do, and maybe once I did… but I don’t hate Remus. I don’t really have anything to hate him for anymore, do I? We’re so different, he’s so much cruder, so much unlike me… but that isn’t grounds to hate a person, to hate a brother.

I’ve told myself for years that I don’t want to be anything like him but… he’s made you so happy, lately. I’ve seen you light up around him, specs, more than I’ve seen in a long time. My brother makes you happy, and god, we’ve been so rude to you lately.” Logan’s ears perk up at that, and for a moment, he finally turns to face Roman.

“We haven’t been listening to you, not enough. Virgil, and I. Even Patton, sometimes. We’ve pushed you aside… I’m so sorry, Logan. We all are. I – I promise we never meant to hurt you.”

Logan wishes he could relish in the feeling of finally being apologized too. He wishes that he could finally embrace some change and have the others listen to him a bit more; this should feel incredible. Except… Remus is lying in Logan’s bed, asleep and having just faced the icy brink of death. Logan can’t bring himself to focus on much other than the fact that Remus is still alive, despite all that’s occurred.

“It’s… it’s alright, Roman,” Logan manages to respond, his voice weak. It’s clear that isn’t the end of the conversation, not nearly, but now just isn’t the time. Logan’s eyes settle back onto Remus, tired but wary.

“He does,” Logan blurts suddenly after a long while of quiet, “Make me happy, I mean. I enjoy the time we spend together. The conversations we have fascinate me greatly, he’s – he’s nothing like what I imagined at first, and I enjoy that. Remus challenges me. He engages in inane experiments with me,” Logan chuckles lightly, amazed that he can find the humor in much of anything right now, “I’ll admit, sometimes our experiments are little more than ‘blowing shit up,’ as he might say. It’s illogical... but quite fun.”

“What were you guys doing in The Imagination?”

“He promised he’s show me the river of blood,” Logan says, the pain so terribly evident in his voice. Roman can’t help but smile at the mention of Remus's side of The Imagination.

“Oh, yes, he’s very proud of that. You don’t know how many of my creations of drown in that cursed thing!”

“When the creature dropped Remus…” Logan says, voice wavering, “And he lay, so still on the ground, the bat came towards us, a-as if to inflict more damage.”

“What did you do to get rid of it?” Roman asks, curiosity peaking.

“I picked up his Morning Star and started swinging,” Logan states, earning a gasp of surprise from the creative side.

“Wait, are you serious?”

“I am.” “Damn, pocket protector. I didn’t know I had it in you.” Logan sighs.

“Honestly... me neither.”

“He’s so quiet when he’s asleep,” Roman muses and Logan hums in response. “So much more peaceful than usual.” A beat. “It feels so wrong, doesn’t it?”

“Incredibly so.” Logan pauses lost in thought before something occurs to him. “Roman, how is it that you stitched up Remus’s wound with such tact?”

Roman bites his bottom lip, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, which is odd because Roman is very much not a sheepish person.

“Well, you know how it is.”

“I do not.” Roman lets out a sigh.

“I get hurt in The Imagination kind of a lot, okay?” Roman says, gesturing to the small faint scars that litter his face, the others that must litter his body invisible under his princely garb (minus a sash), “I mean, look at me, it’s not exactly a secret that I’m stupid and reckless sometimes.” Logan’s mouth thins into a frown.

“I didn’t call you stupid.”

“How’s about reckless?”

“Oh, undoubtedly so.” Roman laughs faintly at that, and it can’t help but bring out a small smile in Logan.

“Anyway, that’s why I’m good at doing stitches, I’m used to doctoring myself up. Done it enough times to get the hang of it. I bet if Remus hadn’t been so hurt, he could probably do it himself. He gets hurt nearly as much, if not more.”

“You two are so thoughtless when it comes to your well-being it’s positively infuriating,” Logan seethes, though there’s very little bite to his bark.

“And yet you loooove us anyway,” Roman says, and that can’t help but stir something in him. Had it been a few months ago, Logan would’ve insisted that he was incapable of emotions, and thus, enable to love. But that isn't a lie he can bring himself to believe anymore.

“I… I do,” Logan breaths out, and the raw vehemence of his tone must surprise Roman.

“Hey, Logan, it’s okay –.”

“I love him,” Logan admits, unsure of he’s just come to this conclusion or if it’s a truth he’s been keeping hidden from himself for some time. His breath hitches as he feels the tears return to his eyes, his vision blurring. “I love him, Roman. A-and he’s been so hurt, Roman I a-almost lost him.”

Logan gasps as he feels Roman’s arms around him, the embrace firm.

“I know,” Roman shushes, beginning to rub circles into Logan’s back as he sobs into his friend’s shoulder, past the point of caring how terribly unprofessional he’s been, “Shh, I know. It’s okay, Logan. He’s going to be just fine."

Logan nods against Roman’s shoulder, sobs still bubbling as he clings tight. Remus is going to be alright. Logan loves him, and he’s going to be alright.

=+=

Taglist:

@nadiestar

@unoriginalgayboyalex

[btsinlondon]

Afternoon Delight

Pairing - You x Your BTS Bias

Nameless BTS boy - so pick your own and enjoy this Sunday afternoon delight

Starts super romantic and ends in filthy hot smut, ready for your masturbating pleasure

Word Count - 1.5K

Sunday afternoon - 4:30pm

You lay on your back on your comfy old sofa, scrolling through Tumblr on your phone, one hand behind your head. The TV is on in the background, an old episode of Friends. You’re home alone and feeling so relaxed because you don’t have to work tomorrow. You don’t have the usual miserable feelings you get on a Sunday and you’re enjoying having nothing on your agenda for the whole day.

The window is open letting in the fresh balmy summer breeze and you can hear birdsong and some light traffic noise outside.

You rest your phone on your chest and close your eyes only for a moment and when you open them again, your favourite BTS member is standing right there at the end of the sofa.

He is looking directly at you, his eyes burning into yours. He is wearing a loose fitting black shirt which is tucked into his tight jeans. He rests both his hands on the arm of the sofa and leans in slightly, his hips pushed up against the sofa. You bend your knees and shuffle so you’re sitting up. 

Holy Shit. Where did he appear from? 

Without saying a word, he struts around the side of the sofa and sits down next to you.

He taps twice on his leg and looks at you. You are utterly speechless and his presence makes your heart thump in your chest.

“Oh is this the episode where they help Ross carry the sofa up the stairs?” He smiles at you and your stomach fills with butterflies. The scene changes on the TV and sure enough you see Rachel, Chandler and Ross dragging the sofa up the stairs. “Pivot! Pivot! PIVOT!”

You can’t help but giggle at the episode and he takes this opportunity to move closer to you on the sofa, his thigh now touching your leg.

“I know you weren’t expecting any visitors today, but I thought I’d drop in and keep you company” he leans back on the sofa and stretches both arms up in a big yawn before placing them down either side of the back of the sofa. His right hand grazes your shoulder and you squirm in your seat.

“C’mon, you can get closer if you want.” He invites you to nudge in by placing his warm hand on your shoulder and giving it a little squeeze.

You allow him to pull you into him, closer than you expected as your body presses against his side. You look down at your hands which are resting in your lap..not sure what to say to him you raise your head and he takes you by surprise. His face is right in front of yours, your lips almost touching. 

He smiles, his dark eyes sparkling as they dart around your face, searching every inch before settling on your lips. 

He whispers against your mouth, “May I kiss you?” 

Your voice does’t seem to work so instead you move in and close the gap between and press your lips against his. Your lips are burning, your stomach does summersaults, your breath quickens and you let out a quiet moan of bliss. 

He places his soft hand on your cheek, so tenderly caressing your jawline as he parts his lips and lightly brushes you bottom lip with the tip of his tongue. Your tongue meets his and he places his other hand on your face, deepening the kiss so sensually, you feel like you could melt into his touch. He sweeps his hands through your hair and lightly tugs so your head leans back and the kiss is broken only for a moment. 

He dips down and plants a series of light kisses on your collarbones, running all the way up the side of your neck towards your ear. 

“Fuuuck, you are so fucking beautiful” he whispers as his sensually drawls out his words across your skin. 

He hooks his fingers under the straps of your top and tugs it off your shoulder. “I’d love to see all of you, touch all of you...fuck you right here.” 

You are lost in the moment, head spinning and the warm pulses building in the pit of your stomach are getting stronger. Waves of heated pleasure tingle through your body and you’ve already made up your mind. You’ve fantasised about this beautiful man whilst touching yourself more times than you care to admit and now here he is, all over you. 

“I want you inside me. I need to feel your naked body against mind. Your skin touching mine, your hands all over, it’s all I’ve wanted...please” 

“Please what?” he demands, biting his bottom lip, ready to devour you.

“Please fuck me” you whimper and as soon as you utter the words, his hands are wrenching your thin top over your head and pulling your leggings down over your hips. He’s feverish, kissing you all over, only breaking the kiss to remove a piece of his clothing. The room feel like it’s spinning and you wrap your arms around his back, breathing in deep, moaning into his touch. 

He scoops his arms around your waist and hoists you up off the sofa, you wrap your legs around him and he holds you firmly under your ass. Dressed in only your underwear, he carries you into the bedroom and throws you down on the bed. 

You start to push yourself up on your elbows, but he grabs both your ankles firmly and yanks you to the end of the bed. He leans over you and using his teeth, tugs at your panties. You lift up your hips to allow him to pull them all the way off. You unclip your bra and toss it onto the floor. 

Laying completely bare before your ultimate bias, he stands and admires you with a hunger in his eyes. Hands on hips with his legs stood wide, dressed in only his tight black boxers, you can see clearly the huge bulge - his desire for you is obvious. 

He kneels on the floor at the end of the bed and you bend your legs so your knees are in the air and scooch further down towards him. Before he even touches you, you moan at the thought of his mouth...down there. 

Oh my fucking god - the way he looks at you..it’s sending you wild and you slowly buck your hips as he teasingly licks his lips. 

He firmly wraps his hands around each of your legs, holding you down and blows a cool stream of air in a circle on your most intimate skin. Your breath gets heavier as he moves in closer, just the very tip of his tongue touching your skin before travelling up to your clit and running wet circles around your bud. 

“I need..uhh I need more..you’re such a fucking tease” you can’t help but whine because all you want is him to fuck you RIGHT NOW. 

“Please....please fuck me” 

“tsk tsk tsk” he shakes his head. “All in good time, I’ve not had enough of tasting you yet...so fucking sweet, so fucking wet ” and he suddenly pushes his tongue between your folds and begins lapping up your slit like a cat licking cream.

It feels so incredible, your hips begin to writhe and you’re grinding into his mouth, wanting more. He lets go of one of your legs and places his thumb just above your bud, drawing long, slow circles while his tongue continues to taste you. You are so fucking wet, your body clenching as you get closer to the edge...but you’re not ready to cum yet. 

You want your first orgasm with him inside you and if he continues touching you like this, it’s going to be too late for that. 

“I’m so fucking close...please...I need you inside me.” He looks up at your from between your thighs and smirks.

“Whatever you want beautiful” and suddenly he stands up, flips you over and pulls your hips up so you are on your hands and knees on the bed. He presses the tip of his cock against your entrance and teases you just for a moment before thrusting inside and it feels incredible. 

You grind your hips and push back against him, one of his hands is on your waist, pulling you back and forth as you grind on him and the other hand reaches around to touch your clit. 

You move together, in sync, his hips slapping against your ass and his cock brushing that sweet spot inside you with every thrust. You’re losing your mind, this is so hot and you can feel the tension building inside your core. He lets go of your hip and grabs your hair, pulling your head back and you moan so loud as your orgasm builds and builds. 

His own moans are so fucking hot, his voice low but you can hear him losing control as his groans turn into a whimper. 

“Baby, I want to cum at the same time as you....tell me when your close” he says

“I’m close, oh god. Right there. Please...so fucking close” you feel his fingers rolling figures of eight over your clit and you know you are going to lose control any moment. 

“Now. NOW. uhhhhhh” you gasp and you feel his hips jolt as he cums inside you, your core clenching around him and he pulses into you and you both ride out your orgasms. You collapse onto the bed, close your eyes and wait for your breath to slow down and your heart rate to go back to normal. 

You roll over to plant a kiss on the man who had fulfilled your fantasies but of course, it’s no surprise or plot twist, this was just all just a daydream. You are still lying on the sofa in the living room, your phone on your chest and that PIVOT episode of Friends is on the TV...

Only trouble is that your are now super wet and you’re getting all the tingles and fluttery feelings down there. Looks like afternoon delight will have to be done by yourself and your fingers instead. 

💜Happy Sunday afternoon/evening masturbation session guys 💜

[yandere-flower]

I wrote this for another blog months ago but could you do a piece where reader has a memory erasing quirk and she has used this quirk on Shinso (or any other bnha guy) 5 times. When he reveal their Yandere side the first time, she erased their memory and would avoid him. But not matter how many times, he always ends up falling for her. The 5th encounter was the last straw and during this 5th love confession, she just breaks down and feels so defeated. Reality: She can’t get away from him.

HEY I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED THIS THE FIRST TIME AND I HATE MYSELF SO MUCH

Anyway I’m sorry this isn’t as good, I feel terrible about that mistake

Shinsou x Reader under the cut

The first time you took Shinsou’s memory, you immediately regretted it. It should’ve been just a normal day, walking back from school together as you lived on the same street. You grew to really like Shinsou, you even admired him. Just, not like he wanted. You had no idea the stoic boy had any feelings for you, his confession leaving you frozen in place. You could feel your skin boiling and yours cheeks reddening by the second. To him you probably looked like a blushing bride, ready to be swooped away by the corniest of confessions. He was so blunt in his wording, it’s hard to forget such few words.

“I want you to be with me”

It wasn’t the most romantic of words, more so possessive than anything. You did the only thing that came to mind and said no. You hadn’t imagine you of all people could hurt this danger of a man, but you could see his face fall in something akin to actual sadness. You started to hate yourself for what you did to him. He use to be so closed off and reserved, only recently coming out of his shell and because of you it would all fall apart. So you took the memory. Took it right from him like you had any right.

The second time you took his memory, you felt a twinge of relief mixed in with your overwhelming guilt. He was suppose to confess again. He was suppose to look at you, and be reminded of sadness without ever really knowing why. You left just a bit left, just enough to free him of you. Yet you found yourself at that spot once again. You normally tried to walk faster, leave the awkward tension that you and Shinsou had. But halfway through your walk he grabbed your hand and pulled you to face him. He started to utter those same words, but this time you took the memory before he could even finish. You told yourself it was the right thing to do as you walked even faster home, leaving a confused Shinsou behind you.

The third and fourth time is when you realized the depth of his affections. After a third attempt of taking his memory on that afternoon walk home, you told yourself you had to ditch Shinsou. You pretended like you had after school activities or that you had a ride now. Anything to repeat the events of the past few days. You hoped that maybe confessing was just a muscle memory to him now. You hadn’t expected him to show up at your door, uninvited, with snacks and a movie you’ve been telling your friends you loved. Not him though, you barely talked to him anymore. You remember how you meekly told him you weren’t feeling well, cursing yourself for not looking out the window to see who it was first. As you went to close the door, his foot suddenly found itself wedged between your door and it’s frame.

“Let me take care of you, we have finals coming up”

You didn’t want to let him in, but taking a memory filled with rage and anger would leave behind some residue. Maybe if you were just cold to him the entire night you could take his memory and just leave behind enough to sour whatever feelings he had left. The entire night you could feel the sweat glide down your neck, wondering if his eyes were watching you or the movie. You didn’t dare look at him however. That night your realized you didn’t care about Shinsou and his sadness anymore, you just wanted out. You were sick of him, hell, you were frightened of him. As the night carried on, he would edge himself closer and closer to you, and you always had some excuse. More popcorn, a glass of water, potty break, oh my friend needs me. That last one let you see just how scared of Shinsou you should be. You held the phone to your ear, barely listening to whatever gossip your friend was telling before the phone was quickly taken from your grasp. Shinsou’s glare that night was intense, fueled with jealously and anger, as if he wanted to be the only one in your life. He confession of love echoing in your head as he cried, desperate to explain his outburst. You didn’t want to hear it, you just didn’t care anymore. You pushed him out your door despite his cries, taking his memory and locking your door behind you. A confused Shinsou knocked on your door, confused as why he was there but wanting to see you. You drowned out the noise by crying into your arms as you just wanted him to go away.

It’s been over a month since you last spoke to Shinsou, and some days you wonder if he heard your tears that night. If he understood the pain he caused you. Or if he just gave up on you. You silently wished this was over, but every once in a while you felt a chill down your back. Like someone was watching you. Your friends started to become more distant, and you could see the fear in their eyes. They would blow you off, or tell you hurtful things they thought about you with tears in your eyes. You knew what this was about. In deeper reflection, you guess Shinsou was getting back at you. Perhaps he figured out what you did to him on top of the constant rejection. But you don’t care anymore.

You wanted to yell at him and confront him, but you know you would only be inviting him to control you. You just had to ignore him. The entire day you spent trying to figure out how to get back at Shinsou. You could tell the teachers, but you would get in trouble as well. You could transfer, but this is everything you ever wanted. You were so lost in thought that you forgot to ask your mom for a ride this afternoon.

You had to walk home.

You hadn’t felt that fear in so long, but it was eerily familiar. You walked alone, each step heavy with fear and anticipation. Any moment Shinsou could appear, could ramble on about his feelings for you and why you should be together. You didn’t want to paint him in such a way but it was hard not to after everything that has happened. Just another corner and you would be home. You could craft your apologetic email to the staff at UA, and confess what you did. Surely they would understand, or at the very least just protect you. You didn’t care you decided, as long as you were away from him. You were to busy mentally writing your email that you hadn’t notice Shinsou sulking behind you, his expression wrought with frustration. You wouldn’t even notice him as he was right behind you. Shinsou may not have known what you were planning, but it didn’t matter. He had a plan of his own. You didn’t notice him until his hands were wrapped firmly around you, one hand clasped over your mouth and nose, forcing you to roughly fall unconscious in his arms.

When you woke you were in an unfamiliar space. The place was kind of rundown, but all the locks on the windows looked new and sturdy. Just like the one on the chain around your ankle. You wish you could be confused, but you knew exactly who this was. That didn’t stop the tears from flowing as your purple haired stalker coughed to get your attention.

“I guess you could just take my memory again, pretend that someone else kidnapped you and you’re excited to see me, your hero”. he sighed, almost dreamily, as if he liked the idea. “But do you really think I’d free you? After all…”

“I just want you to be with me”

[harryandmolly]

The Emancipation of Ginny ~ 9

summary: shawn and ginny could’ve ruined everything six months ago, and sticking together despite their past could make or break them now as ginny stays on as his personal assistant. but what happens on tour doesn’t stay on tour.

warnings: Language, easter eggs, The Bodyguard soundtrack

WC: 5.8k

Ginny stands, lips pursed, outside the door. After a moment and a little huff of breath, she jabs her elbow into Andrew’s side. He flinches and grunts, pushing his glasses up his nose. He looks over at her, exhaustion reaching into the fine lines of his face.

“You go in,” Ginny insists, raising her eyebrows.

Andrew frowns. “You go in. You’re his assistant.”

“You’re his manager,” Ginny shoots back.

“Exactly. Managers don’t go fishing popstars out of their girlfriends’ apartments. That has assistant written all over it.”

Ginny balks. “Where was that in my contract?”

Andrew opens his mouth to make another snarky comment when the door swings in, creaking on overpainted hinges. They both fall silent. Shawn stands just inside, blank faced and a little frazzled. When he got all their texts about waiting for him downstairs, he didn’t think they were actually impatient enough to be waiting on Sara’s stoop. But there they are, looking irritable, sleepy and a little guilty. He cracks a sheepish smile.

“Sorry, guys.” He reaches up and smoothes the collar of his button-up. He looks to Ginny. Her eyes are bright and warm despite the early hour. He smiles when he sees them.

She smiles back. “You have lipstick on your ear.”

She turns on her heel and bounces down the steps. She doesn’t look back when she opens the door to the cab and gets in. Andrew claps him on the shoulder with a grating sigh.

“Time to go.”

+

Shawn and Ginny have made a sport of surviving long flights. They’re both talkers, which helps. They can talk for hours and not get bored of each other. But more than that, they’re experienced flyers. They know exactly how much Benadryl to take at the exact right time to be knocked out for as long as an overnight flight will last. They know exactly how many Netflix episodes of a certain show to download before they’ll get bored of the same thing and move on. They’re professionals at entertaining each other and themselves.

Shawn doesn’t know what to expect when he buckles into his first class seat next to her on the flight from JFK to LAX. He just ostensibly spent most of their whirlwind festival weekend in Manhattan shacked up with Sara. He practically has whiplash. He imagines Ginny might feel the same.

He glances over at her. She’s got her head buried in her backpack at her feet, looking for something. He drums his fingers on his knees, waiting for her to resurface. When she doesn’t, he clears his throat.

“Lost something?” he prompts.

Ginny sits up and blows some curls out of her face. She grunts.

“Can’t find my book. Must’ve put it in my checked bag.”

She sounds flummoxed, and he would be too if he didn’t already know exactly where The Book is.

The Book is 13 Little Blue Envelopes by Maureen Johnson. It’s Ginny’s favorite. She keeps a paperback copy with her in every carry-on on every flight she’s ever taken. Shawn knows it almost as well as she does from when she used to read it to help him fall asleep.

Shawn grins, happy to feel useful. He shoves his hand into the bag at his feet and pulls out the well-worn, dogeared, cracked-spined paperback. He puts it in her hands.

“You left it in the snack bag we took to soundcheck in the park. I put it in my backpack before we left.”

Ginny sighs, relieved. She smiles and snuggles back into her seat, hugging the book to her chest.

“Dunno what I’d do if I ever lost it.”

Shawn nods in understanding. “It’s your good luck charm. The plane would probably crash or something.”

Ginny looks startled at the idea. Shawn snorts a chuckle. The sound makes Ginny laugh. They both snicker until a flight attendant passes to check their seat positions. The plane begins to taxi.

Ginny gazes out the window. Her heart feels a little lighter in her chest when the plane ascends through the clouds. She’s never much liked New York. Leaving now, exchanging overcast, seeping humidity for browning palm fronds in the dry, California sun feels like what the doctor ordered.

She flips open the book to her ironically-chosen faded Twilight bookmark. She clears her throat and chuckles at the passage in front of her.

“I get a little romantic about the old Empire State. Just looking at it makes me want to play some Frank Sinatra tunes and sway a little. I have a crush on a building. I'd been in there several times but never to work. I always knew there were offices in there but the fact never penetrated, really. You don't work in the Empire State Building. You propose in the Empire State Building. You sneak a flask up there and raise a toast to the whole city of New York.”

Shawn sits back and listens to Ginny read. He lifts a corner of his mouth sleepily when she finishes.

“You hate New York.”

Ginny shrugs. “I don’t hate New York. I think New York is a sad attempt at what London has already perfected. I don’t know why they try.”

Shawn laughs. “You’ll be home again soon during the time off next week. You can drink tea and eat biscuits and sit in the rain all you want. You don’t have to think about New York again for a while.”

Ginny’s smile is wistful. She’ll be happy not to think about New York or anyone in it for a while.

Shawn catnaps with curls over his eyes and his face turned toward her for about an hour. When he wakes up, Ginny’s rereading the part where her fictional counterpart Ginny falls asleep and wakes up disoriented in Richard’s flat. It’s not a particularly loaded or meaningful section of the novel, but Ginny found herself seeking it out anyway. She finds solace in reading about someone who’s surrounded by love and family but remains confused and somehow unfulfilled.

She logs into the United Airlines WiFi and checks her posting on YouTube. She has a few new comments -- some trolls, some complimentary. She plugs in her headphones and watches it again. When it ends, she watches it again.

She’s chewing her cheek and staring at her phone when Shawn’s eyes flutter open. He smiles at the sight of her and her focused face.

“Whatcha lookin’ at, Gin?”

He has raspy morning voice. Ginny looks over. Her nose wiggles, shivering her septum ring with it.

“Just browsing,” she lies smoothly. Shawn nods and sits up in his seat. He picks up the bag of pretzels resting on his tray table and drops it on hers.

“Oh god, thank you,” she mutters, opening the bag ravenously like she’s been waiting all day to eat his pretzels. He closes his eyes.

“Can I ask you something?”

His eyes open. His heart begins to race for no real reason other than that he knows her and knows she doesn’t preface questions very often. Ginny always just asks.

“Yeah?”

“Do you think everything happens for a reason?”

Shawn’s quiet. He aims his gaze down at his lap and swipes his tongue over his front teeth.

“I guess I want to think that,” he answers finally.

He braves a glance at her. She’s looking out the window.

“Me too,” she whispers, “Sometimes I just want to know what the fucking plan is though.”

Shawn is somewhat startled by her sudden philosophical detour. He clears his throat. His hand twitches at his side.

He could sit here and guess what she could mean -- is she thinking about him? Is she thinking about her music? Is she thinking about just… everything?

He decides since she’s not wading further into the conversation, it’s not for him to know right now.

He garbles out an unsatisfactory ‘I know what you mean’ and tries not to watch her as she falls asleep. As she drifts off, he holds her book in his big hands and whispers the words until her breathing evens.

+

Ginny’s never been more grateful for so much noise.

Piled in a blacked-out Escalade on the way to some bar in Silver Lake, smashed between her fellow crew mates, the noise in the car is finally enough to block out the noise in her head that’s been raging for weeks. She’s a few swigs of whiskey in, courtesy of the flask in Ziggy’s jacket. The lightness of her head and the hollowness of her body give her a floating sensation so delicious that she hasn’t noticed Shawn spending most of the evening quiet and texting Sara.

She’s gotten good at not noticing anything that has to do with Sara, including Shawn’s repeated pleas to Andrew to find another weekend to get back to New York.

The liquor helps.

The music cuts out suddenly. Ginny’s bleary eyes focus past Mike’s head to Andrew in the front seat. His finger hovers over the stereo system and his other hand holds his phone to his ear. The car goes respectfully quiet until Andrew hangs up. He looks back at their expectant faces.

“There’s a ton of paps outside. Jake’s gonna get out first, let venue security know, get us some help.”

Ginny pieces together the fact that Jake is in the car ahead of them, Shawn’s car, the one stopped in front of the bar. She can see the way the paps swarm the vehicle like vultures. She makes a face. Mike laughs and elbows her. She elbows back.

After the first car empties, they pull up to replace it. Ginny’s relaxed heartbeat stirs up a little faster. The doors are thrown open. The clicks of the cameras, the flashes reverberating around them, the shouts of the photographers, they replace the comforting noise Ginny was basking in moments ago. They set her teeth on edge.

One by one, the occupants of the car filter out onto the sidewalk, engulfed in paparazzi that are not well controlled by the flimsy venue security team. Ginny comes out last. She focuses on the back of Mike’s head until her vision is obscured by the kaleidoscoping shapes the flashes leave behind in her eyes.

She winces and pulls back. She stands there, head down, trying to ignore the rising wave of tension lapping at her hips. She wants to crawl back inside the car. She wants to go home.

She attempts to lift her head and look around. She’s unstable on her feet and falters, knocking into a photographer who knocks her back. Ginny grunts, stumbling, grabbing the car to keep from tipping off the curb. Her heel slips. She’s heading for a fall that probably wouldn’t really hurt anything more than her pride. But she doesn’t fall.

A long, firm arm sweeps around her waist and hauls her upright against a similarly built chest. She swallows and locks up her throat to scream until she catches a whiff of his cologne. She releases her rasping breath all at once, a relieved sigh. She drapes an arm up around his neck and lets him help her off the side of the car.

“Can you guys please, please move?” Shawn all but barks. Even when he’s pissed, which she can hear he clearly is, he’s polite.

With the help of Jake, Shawn keeps his arm fastened around Ginny, leading her inside amidst the even louder screams because oh my god, he’s holding a girl, these photos are gonna sell big.

His fingers dig into her flesh so firmly she’s sure she’ll wake up with bruises. He’s practically dragging her because her body’s not exactly cooperative right now. In the back of her mind, she wonders exactly how pissed Jake will be that the venue was so ill-prepared.

She focuses on Shawn’s voice once they’re through the door.

“Gin?”

It’s clear and anxious and panted at her through her hair. She lifts her head and turns to look at him. His eyes are wide. His lips are parted with heavy breaths. His gaze flickers between her eyes and her lips. She locks her jaw and closes her eyes until she can convince herself not to kiss him. It takes a good few seconds.

“I’m ok,” she finally spits out. She drops her arm from around his neck. She steps back.

“I’m sorry.”

Shawn shakes his head. “No, don’t-- I mean… there’s nothing to be sorry for. I’m sorry. I’m sorry this is so fucking crazy.”

Ginny looks around. The team is gathered, watching them carefully like middle schoolers gathering around playground drama. She feels heat rise to her face and smoothes her sweaty palms down the front of her jeans. Andrew and Jake are having very stern words with who she guesses are the venue managers. Andrew’s eyes dart to hers every few seconds like he thinks she’ll collapse in Shawn’s arms at any moment.

She clears her throat. She’s not that fragile.

“Thanks for the assist, Prince Charming,” she laughs a little shakily, patting his arm in a way that’s a little too friendly, a little too casual. She turns to join Mike and Zubin as they wade into the crowded see-and-be-seen-style bar.

“No problem,” Shawn murmurs a little self-consciously, shoving his hands in his pockets and following.

+

The good noise is back and Ginny loves it.

Good noise, like Zubin and Mike chanting “shots! Shots! Shots!” every time they see a server pass with a tray of them. Good noise, like Shawn attempting to sing badly along to a very weird but hilarious remix of “Stronger” by Christina Aguilera (he still sounded great). Good noise, like Teddy Geiger screaming “HEY GINNY BABY” right in her ear.

Ginny leaps out of her seat despite having had a couple more drinks since they arrived. Ginny loves her team, even kind of likes feeling like the rose amongst the thorns being a woman amongst all the many men, but Teddy’s squeal in her hair feels like a life preserver when she didn’t even realize she was in deep water.

Teddy insists she needs a drink and hauls Ginny off to the bar. Even with her head in the clouds, Ginny knows what Teddy wants.

They lean into a corner beside the counter, propped up against the wall with their drinks. Teddy eyes her suspiciously.

“So,” she begins, “What do we think of Sara?”

Ginny turns her nose up delicately. “I haven’t met her.”

Teddy smirks. “I bet he hasn’t said a single fuckin’ word to you.”

Ginny laughs. Teddy might know Shawn almost as well as she does. She’s not threatened by it. In fact, it’s handy. Sometimes she needs similar perspective when she can’t trust her own judgment.

“I guess I’ll know it’s really serious when he starts talking to me about her. I don’t think he’ll say anything until he knows she’s not going anywhere,” Ginny muses, glancing off into space.

Teddy pokes Ginny in the chin and makes a pouty face. “And if that’s what happens?”

Ginny’s lips come together from the corners the way they do when she has a secret. Teddy grins conspiratorially.

“You know I love Shawn,” Ginny begins diplomatically.

“But,” Teddy interjects, lifting her eyebrows.

“But, I can’t trail around behind him forcing him to spit out his gum and making sure his laundry gets done forever. He’s my best friend. He won’t stay my best friend if I don’t grow just like he gets to.”

Teddy nods solemnly. Wise, impressive words, given how toasted she is.

Teddy reaches out, squeezes her arm with a wink. “You need any help with that, you call me. Women helping women, and all that.”

Ginny nods and watches Teddy cast off across the bar back to Emily and her friends.

And two hours later, Shawn is pouring her into the backseat of a hired car, praying she doesn’t yack up.

“C’mon, Gin, you’re not allowed to take that with you,” Shawn insists, trying to loosen her empty tumbler from her nimble fingers. She’s giggling madly and squirming away from him.

Shawn’s never seen her like this. She’s always the mom drunk, ready to snap into sobriety when she needs to. This time, she’s the tricky drunk.

Finally, he does get the glass away and tucked into Andrew’s hand. Thankfully, the paps are gone. It’s late. Shawn’s long past ready to head back to the hotel, but Ginny and the rest of his team still had wilding to do. He played along, fought through his exhaustion because he’s still on New York time and has stayed on it so he can spend more time texting Sara on her schedule, but it’s past 2am and Shawn is done.

Shawn keeps an arm around Ginny’s waist as she trips into the elevator to head up the stairs. Her head is bobbing, her eyes are starting to close. Shawn groans.

“Nope, no, Gin, no. You can’t fall asleep on me in the hallway. We’re almost there, c’mon. Where’s your room key?”

Ginny blearily blinks at him. She has no idea what he’s talking about. He sighs.

He looks her over. She’s not carrying a bag. Her phone is in his pocket. She has virtually nowhere to hide a key. He bites his tongue and glances over her shoulder to see a rectangular shape pressed against one of the back pockets of her ridiculously tight jeans. He blinks quickly, grunts, and slips his fingers into the pocket to fish it out. Ginny just giggles again. He ignores his stupid, slightly tipsy body’s reaction to the sound and opens her door.

Ginny flings herself inside and drops backwards onto the bed, legs flailing, curls crashing against the pillow. Shawn grins and sets her keycard down on the dresser, hovering awkwardly.

“Wan’ watch a movie, love?” she coos half into a pillow, waving her hand toward the remote on her nightstand. He shakes his head and steps further into the room, assessing. He sees a line of small water bottles by the TV and cracks one open, walking toward the bed.

“Can you sit up for me?”

Ginny cranks herself to a seated position, supported by the headboard. She lifts her feet into his lap and takes the proffered bottle.

As she sips, he carefully unbuckles her strappy platform sandals and smiles when she wiggles her toes at him like she’s waving.

“Miss you,” she mumbles. He looks up.

Her eyes are closed. She drank about half the bottle, which is likely all he’ll get out of her. She’s sniffing gently, rubbing at her piercing, head drooping.

“I’m right here, Gin,” he whispers, squeezing around her ankle.

“No,” she sighs, sounding resigned, “Like we used to be. Used to tell me everything.”

His breath and words are stuck in his chest. He chokes on his voice.

She lifts her head, rolls it back against the headboard to look at him. Her gaze is hazy but unwavering. He feels naked, caught in it like this.

“I know you’re writing a song about me.”

He flinches.

“Wh… what?”

She shrugs. “It’s either about me or her but I think it’s about me cause you’ve been working on it since before you met her, if it’s the same one.”

Her reasoning is sound in a way that tells Shawn she didn’t just come up with this theory. Her drunk brain didn’t do this. She concocted this theory sober, drunk brain is just the one voicing it.

Shawn has a few answers lined up -- I’ve written songs about you before, this doesn’t have to be a big deal and we shouldn’t be talking about this, among others. He doesn’t get to say them before she turns a suspicious shade of green and starts blinking quickly.

Shawn winces. “Gonna puke?”

She nods vigorously.

He helps her up, shuffles her to the bathroom and holds back her hair while she vomits into the toilet. He sits patiently, massaging his fingers against her scalp. He waits with her while she brushes her teeth. He helps fish out her scarf and watches her wrap her hair into a pineapple, fixes it when her still-uncooperative fingers make a hash of it. He tucks her in, places a trash bin beside her bed and sleeps in the armchair.

When she wakes up, it’s to eggs benedict from room service and a text from Shawn reminding her to drink more water. She smiles, calls Hannah and eats breakfast in bed.

+

Her breakfast high doesn’t last long.

Andrew calls her on his way back from a meeting and tells her to check her social media. Everywhere, from JustJared to People to fan accounts, are the pap shots from the night before. Shawn gripping Ginny so tight around her hip that she remembers to check her skin for bruises (she does have a couple that match the spread of his fingers). Shawn nearly carrying her into the bar. Ginny looking up at Shawn like a goddamn damsel in distress.

The thing is, she doesn’t look drunk. She just looks scared. Shawn has the hard furrow of skin between his eyebrows that sets in when he’s pissed but trying to keep his cool. Ginny is clinging to him.

She sets her clenching jaw and turns off her phone. She chucks it into the pile of throw pillows Shawn made when he tucked her in last night. She closes her eyes.

+

@Tasteyshawn: but liiiiiike y’all look at the way he’s looking at her he is straight up in love #boyfriend!shawn

@shawndarhimes: omfg can u believe #shinny my actual otp omfg omfg

@shawncometobrazil98: ahhhhhhhHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH ITS FINALLY HAPPENING #shinny

@happyrosyshawn: guys, the most important thing is that he’s happy. You can clearly see he loves her. So treat her with respect. Shawn would be so upset if people started hating Ginny. And let’s face it, look at them together. They’re endgame.

Endgame. Endgame. Endgame.

The word’s been circling his head all morning, scraping at his tender skin, tearing at his healing heart. His teeth are on edge. His body temperature feels like it’s up by ten degrees. He keeps running his fingers through his hair, tugging at the ends like he does when he needs to ground himself.

Endgame. Endgame.

How the hell would they know? They’re just pictures. These girls, his fans, he loves them, but they can’t know. They don’t know. They can’t pretend to know who he’s meant to be with. But he can’t shake the fucking feeling that they’re right. He hasn’t felt this bone-deep panic since that night on the plane when Ginny was lying on his chest and everything was absolutely, perfectly ok until it wasn’t.

Endgame.

He glances at his phone. He swipes past the messages from Andrew and fumbles for his phone app. He knows what he has to do now.

Calling Sara

+

Sara took herself to brunch today.

She woke up, checked social media and put her phone on airplane mode five minutes later with a tight feeling in her chest.

She stood, checked herself over in the mirror, completed her most elaborate version of her multistep Korean skincare routine, put on a dress she got on sale last year at Nordstrom Rack and walks all the way to Sarabeth’s.

It’s Sunday. It’s hot as balls, so all of Manhattan smells like garbage, but it’s nearly empty. At least this part is. Everyone that lives in this neighborhood is in the Hamptons this weekend soaking up the sun on a beach like god intended. Not Sara. Sara slathered herself in SPF 80+ just to walk out the door. The only sun she’s getting is what gets reflected off the skyscrapers.

She sits in the puddle of sweat under an umbrella. She’s the only one on the patio. She smells Hawaiian Tropic and the vodka in her bloody mary. She orders the crab cake benedict from the smiley red-headed waitress with the spring in her step and the Neverland tattoo on her forearm.

When she has enough bloody mary in her system to stomach turning her phone back on, she has a text and missed call from Shawn, which she expected. He’s asking for a call.

His voice is a little high pitched and frantic at first. He explains he doesn’t know what she’s thinking right now, he doesn’t know if she’s mad or sad or hurt or scared, but he just wants to talk. He wanted to hear her voice.

“I’m not mad, Shawn.”

And it’s true. She has no trouble saying it out loud because it’s true. She isn’t mad at all. She knows very well he didn’t fuck his assistant last night. He’s just not that kind of guy.

She’s not just his assistant, though. She’s been around him enough to know Ginny is Shawn’s best friend. He says the words differently when referring to Ginny than when he’s talking about Brian or Niall or the other guys from Toronto. He says best friend -- she sees the word in italics in her head when he says them. She can feel the gravity. He takes her friendship more seriously than almost any other relationship in his life.

Sara doesn’t read comments. She knows better. She knew better even before she started dating a popstar. But she doesn’t have to read them to know what they’ll say. They’ll say finally, together at last, Shawn and Ginny, as they were always meant to be. Probably less eloquently than that because, well, comments sections. And do you know what? She can’t even be mad about that. Because she and Shawn do nothing but jump through hoops to keep their relationship a secret. Sara designed it that way. She asked for that.

So no, she’s not mad. She can’t be mad.

But her entire body stings.

“Listen,” she begins, clearing her throat. She looks out at the horses hauling carriages of tourists around Central Park and back down at her empty plate, “I don’t suspect anything. I don’t think anything. I don’t know you well, but I know you didn’t do that. You don’t owe me an explanation, as far as I’m concerned.”

She takes a deep breath and continues, “At this point, I don’t think either of us is comfortable with this being the kind of relationship where we have to answer to each other for things like that. We’re not there yet. We’re just… easy, right?”

+

Ginny sits back in her chair. Her smile is warm and flat like the beer sitting on her coaster. She’s not drinking tonight, but a Dos Equis was put in front of her anyway. She’s ignoring it just like she’s ignoring everyone’s weird glances from the past week since the night at the bar and the subsequent pictures.

The day after the photos, Andrew had another sit down chat with Shawn and Ginny about public boundaries. This time, as Ginny cast sidelong glances at him, Shawn didn’t even flinch. He agreed easily. Space is a good idea.

So space she gave him. It wasn’t just in front of the cameras, though. They’ve been actively avoiding anything that has to do with the other unless it’s work related. And when a paradigm like that shifts within the team, everyone notices. Everyone stares. Everyone talks.

Despite her desire to drink away the feeling of the eyes on her, Ginny sits up straight and grins, watching Andrew croon his way through a rendition of “Hallelujah” that Ginny tried to convince him was an awful choice for a karaoke tune but Andrew insisted anyway. Shawn is at the next table, knees bouncing. He looks down at his phone every 15 seconds or so. Not that Ginny’s counting.

Andrew takes a bow. Ginny howls, trying to outdo the squalling yells from Geoff and Mike and Zubin. Shawn claps and laughs like he doesn’t even hear them.

Andrew plops himself down in the chair across from Ginny. His eyes are glassy from one too many tequila sunrises. She smirks.

“Well done, boss.”

“I think you can do better,” he laughs.

“I’m sure I can, but I don’t feel like it tonight.”

Andrew’s eyebrows raise. She’s never once turned down an opportunity to perform. When Shawn is caught behind for soundcheck, she gets onstage and plays and sings for them until he gets there.

“I already put your name in, Gin.”

And so he did. The DJ calls her name over the din, welcoming her to the stage. She swallows and feels her face heat. There are those eyes again. She shakes her head, insisting someone else can have her turn. No one wants it. They want to see Ginny sing.

Over a rousing chant of her name, Ginny rises to her feet. She avoids Shawn’s curious glance and ascends, ducking over the side of the stage to the DJ to request her song.

She makes herself comfortable under the spotlight. She can’t see anyone. Her heart rate calms. It’s just a stage. It’s just a song. This is what Ginny knows, this is where she shines.

The music begins. A few cheering calls go up when the tinkling, synthy 90s keyboard tune rises, but she recognizes the shift of the room, too. It happens every time she sings Whitney, because no one ever expects a random woman at a karaoke bar to be able to do it justice.

Ginny closes her eyes. She wraps her fingers around her mic and leans into the feeling of perfect aloneness she feels on stage. The audience is out of sight, out of mind -- if she can’t see them, they can’t see her. And if they can’t see her, if those eyes are finally gone, she can just feel.

She wets her lips and feels goosebumps prick up down the length of her arms at the tinny snap of the horns that precede the vocals dropping in for the first verse.

Ginny takes a deep breath. She smoothes a hand down the mic stand and back up, leaving her eyes closed under the hot pulse of the house lights as she starts to sing.

Share my life, take me for what I am

Cause I’ll never change all my colors for you

Take my love, I’ll never ask for too much

Just all that you are, and everything that you do

Ginny’s warm, weathered-heart voice glides over the softness of Whitney’s words. It’s effortless and sweet, despite the sting she feels in every pore of her body.

The tempo starts to pick up. The music rises in perfect 90s power ballad style. Ginny’s voice firms up with it, deepens and hardens as she resigns herself to the exposure.

It’s just a stage. It’s just a song.

I don’t really need to look very much further

I don’t want to have to go where you don’t follow

I will hold it back again, this passion inside

Can’t run from myself, there’s nowhere to hide

It’s on the last rising, vibrato-shaken note of the pre-chorus that the rest of the audience joins her team in their certainty that Ginny can handle some Whitney. They show their support with some whoops and hollers.

Don’t make me close one more door

I don’t want to hurt anymore

Stay in my arms if you dare

Or must I imagine you there

Don’t walk away from me

I have nothing, nothing, nothing

If I don’t have you

Ginny opens her eyes. She sees shifting black shapes before her. She reaches for them as her voice carries, strong and nimble, just as she is. She lifts the mic from the stand and works the stage to the delight of her invisible audience.

She can’t see them, she doesn’t want to see them, but they can see her, whether she likes it or not.

They see the way she stretches and pulls at every word like she wrote them herself. They can see from the clench of her shut eyes and the strain of her throat that she’s never sung this song this way before. She’s never felt it like this before.

Andrew looks away, closes his eyes for fear of letting the tears fall. He can’t bear to watch, but listening is one of the true privileges of his years of friendship with Ginny. He bobs his head and tries to keep his cool.

Zubin and Mike exchange a glance, but otherwise don’t take their eyes off her. Geoff sips at his beer and stays quiet, sniffling to himself. Ziggy is mesmerized, rocking in his chair, nodding to the beat, eyes wide as saucers. Cez looks between Andrew and Geoff, chewing the inside of his lip as his chest grows tight. Jake and Josiah, each sitting beside Shawn, fight not to stare at him.

Ginny’s voice soars into the final repetition of the chorus. Andrew winces at the now raucous cheering of the audience that he knows Ginny can’t even hear. She returns to the stand and stretches her arms out like she intends to take flight.

Don’t make me close one more door,

I don’t want to hurt anymore

Stay in my arms if you dare

Or must I imagine you there

Don’t walk away from me

She shakes her head, shoves her hands into her hair and wails.

Don’t you dare walk away from me

I have nothing, nothing, nothing

If I don’t have you

Her voice grows quiet. Her arms fall limp to hang on the mic stand by the tips of her fingers. Her shoulders sink, hunching with exhaustion from the strength of her release. As she coos through Whitney’s last winding vocal runs, matching them with ease, Andrew scrubs at his cheeks, rubbing the wetness on the thighs of his jeans. He sees from the corner of his eye that he’s not alone in this.

When Ginny’s voice fades out, she swallows. The club is nearly in a riot. The DJ has gotten up onto the stage behind her to cheer with the rest of the unwitting barflies. She blinks, eyes and throat dry, body numb as she watches a very tall figure open the door of the bar to exit.

She doesn’t have to check his seat. She knows him down to the silhouette.

She stands in the center of the stage, wetting her lips, letting the applause slide off her and hit the floor. She watches the door shut, Shawn on the other side. It’s a full minute before the cheering dies down enough for the DJ to announce the next name.

Ginny steps down, walking past the curious, adoring eyes of new fans. She slips back into her seat like she never left. She doesn’t look at the empty one he left.

She looks down into her amber glass and traces her fingers around the condensation trails.

She feels the eyes again, so she closes hers and waits for them to look away.

I’d love to blame watching Endgame for a second time last night for the angstiness of this but the truth is, it’s been planned since I came up with the premise. Buy me a Ko-fi (linked on main page) anyway?

Taglist: @smallerinfinities @the-claire-bitch-project @achinglyshawn @infiniteshawn @mendesoft @singanddreamanyway @alone-in-madness @abigfatmess @shawnitsmutual @awkwardfangirl2014 @september-lace @thotfulalena @sinplisticshawn @rollingxstone @yslsaint @randi-eve @sauveteen @fallmoreinlove @voguemnds

[malexfan10]

Malex thoughts

I was watching some old episodes of Dawson's Creek and it made me want to get some thoughts out. I watched a lot of TV shows growing up. For me, the couples I liked were either ones I casually rooted for or on the rare occasion, a couple took me by such surprise that I became extremely emotionally invested. Malex is the latter.

I've been a fan of Captain Swan (OUAT), Stydia (Teen Wolf), Kurt & Blaine (Glee), Buffy & Angel and lots more. The rare pairings I've been completely lost on, I can name on one hand. Pacey & Joey (my first OTP), Chandler & Monica and Malex. I'd say Destiel on Supernatural too but with them, everything is subtext. I don't think the writers will have the guts to go there, not even with the show ending.

With PJ, I love how they started as antagonists, became really great friends, and then fell in love. For me, PJ vs DJ was incomparable. DJ brought out the worst in each other (my opinion) while PJ showed each other what love was supposed to be. The only thing I hated about DC was the constant back & forth between the two pairings. It lasted until the final moment when you realized PJ was endgame (one of my fears for Malex). I hated that but I was a kid so it didn't bother me as much as it would now.

I loved Chandler & Monica because they started out as friends who fell in love, got married and had all the moments in between before adopting a set of twins. I loved their story because it showed their entire journey. True, the show was a comedy but their story didn't end in season 5 when they started dating. Their story just began.

It's hard understanding writers who feel that only the journey matters. Of course it does. The journey is important. It's what makes you root for a couple but the destination and what happens after is important too. It makes you continue rooting for them, seeing all that angst and pain amounting to something substantial in the end.

So as much as I loved PJ, the fact that they kept us guessing until the last 5 minutes before we realized who she chose was too much. The long, drawn out, multi-season, will they/won't they storytelling style is one I'll never be a fan of.

Which leads me to Malex.

They were two broken boys, both brought up under horrible circumstances, who found the missing piece of themselves in each other. When Alex gave Michael a warm and safe place to stay, it was probably the first act of true kindness Michael had ever experienced and it was made by a boy whose pain and suffering mirrored his own. How incredibly heartbreaking but beautiful is that? That initial bond, that "cosmic" connection stood the test of time. Separated for 10 years and it felt like no time had passed at all.

That first moment in the pilot episode outside his Airstream, you could feel the tension. I remember reading interpretations of that scene. People thought Malex were cold and angry with one another "probably over a girl". Are you kidding me? That tension could only be romantic. But that first kiss at the reunion was when I hopped on the Malex Forever train. One stop only. Endgame.

They set them up so amazingly in the first three episodes. The angst was there but you could also feel the deep love between them. They weren't shown as two guys who had a fling back in high school and then crossed paths again 10 years later, said what the hell and hooked up again. No, they were shown as soulmates. Their level of connection even scared and confused them but they both knew it existed. Their love was pure and true and rare.

With all their history and with so many odds already stacked against them, the writers deciding to throw in a triangle just because they could and doing it in such a rushed and messy way really made me scratch my head.

Carina said she loved the triangle on DC. I honestly think she was the only one. That show was incredibly divided, DJ vs PJ. But as much as I hated the constant back and forth, I'll give the DC writers some credit. Joey's feelings for both were fully touched on. I saw her romantic feelings for Pacey more profound and her feelings for Dawson as true friendship (just my opinion), but both sides were shown in depth.

The problem with Roswell? Where did those feelings come from between M&M? They shared a moment when Maria cried and I took that as the start of a wonderful friendship. I was obviously wrong. They hooked up in the desert. OK I hated it but they were two single people and Maria didn't know about Alex so I accepted. All of a sudden, the feelings were real and Maria was conflicted because of how strong her feelings were. Michael chose to be with Maria because he needed something fresh and new and according to the wonderful Vlamis, someone he also had strong feelings for (still hate that last interview LOL).

I understand where Michael was coming from a little better, as much as I hate it and hate how he went about it by leaving Alex just waiting. He'd been through so much trauma and Max and Isobel kept telling him to stop looking to the past (which, really Max? If someone told you that about Liz, would you listen?? But he died so he gets a pass). But as far as Maria's feelings are concerned, I feel like I missed something.

Between episodes 9 and 10, did the M&M feelings bloom overnight from flirty banter to crush to "OMG this is love"? Was their moment in the desert that mind-blowing that the weirdness of episode 11 happened? I don't get it.

The one thing going against M&M is that Malex is overwhelmingly loved and has been embraced by fans and critics alike.

One critic said it best when they reviewed the finale (Vulture).

"I was intrigued by the possibility of Michael/Maria at first, but the love triangle has been so rushed — with so little time spent on Maria’s developing feelings for Michael — that it’s ended up just making her look terrible. We know from Maria’s conversation with Liz that she hasn’t even spoken to Alex about the situation because she feels too guilty, and so having her accept Michael with open arms is such an odd note. Sure, she doesn’t know Alex is waiting for Michael right at the same moment, but she does know that he’s been in love with Michael for a decade."

And therein lies the problem. A lifelong friendship ruined over a guy (unless Carina makes Alex give his blessing next season which would really make me scream) to push forward a pairing that had little development and makes Maria look bad. One side of the triangle is Michael's soulmate and the other side is the friend with sudden feelings. Not the best character development which is sad because we know how awesome Maria can be and as mad as I am with her, her character that I enjoyed until episode 10 and the actress deserve better. But instead of being original, the writers chose the path always taken. They chose to use her as the odd end of a triangle where, unless they want everyone to hate the show, she will likely be the one forced out so Malex can eventually reunite and for what? Drama?

Season 1 started out really strong and it still had a lot of strong moments in the latter episodes (end scene of episode 9 between Malex, Liz & Jenna being kickass in episode 11, all of episode 12 - my fave of the season, Kyle's confrontation with Jesse etc).

But honestly, I feel like the inclusion of this triangle (amongst other reveals like Noah as the 4th alien) somewhat brought the story down. The writing for M&M felt OOC and was messily done.

Only in recent years have LGBT pairings started becoming more mainstream, given better development and importance in the overall story. With Malex, they have the potential of making Michael and Alex one of the greatest love stories on TV. As much as I love the show, I'm not saying Roswell is on the same level as Breaking Bad or The Sopranos etc. But from all the pairings on the show, Malex is the most profound and has the potential to go down as one of the best on TV. To overcome everything they've been through and still choose each other and their love would be the ultimate happy ending because unlike most male/female pairings that go through mostly regular angst, being two males in a small town, Malex have a whole other level of obstacles to face. That doesn't even include their personal history, the fact that Michael is an alien or that Alex's father is the cause of so much pain between them. Or the fact that Alex is a disabled war veteran. I mean, there is so much amazing points to their story. They are the OTP of OTPs.

But so far, it feels like the triangle is the only major roadblock the writers want to concentrate on and that's the biggest mistake of all.

Season 2 hasn't aired yet. We don't know how little (🤞) or how long (😢) M&M will last. We'll just have to wait and see how it goes and hope that Twitter Carina is not the same as Season 2 showrunner Carina.

But for me, Malex will always be each other's endgame. That's what I saw in the first 3 episodes. That's what I saw in the flashbacks. That's what I saw in Caulfield. Try and convince me differently, show. You'll fail.

❤

[flying-elliska]

S3 Rewatch - Episode 2 - Vendredi 19h34 “Surprenant” 

I really was looking forward to see if I could write anything new about this scene and like ...of course I can, I could write a whole ass essay about it. So here goes. (it’s a long one sorry lmao)

The first few seconds set the scene perfectly. The scratchy white noise of the vinyl after it’s done ; the low golden lighting, the smoke Eliott blows in the air, the sated expressions on their faces - that feeling of perfect contentment you get when you are perfectly at ease being with someone, even in silence. Lazy afternoons where time just seems to disappear, the feeling of being high, skipping your obligations, taking time for yourself - makes the clip feel somehow nostalgic, timeless and expectant all at once. Something has happened in the time between last clip and now, because they’re suddenly much more comfortable with each other. The tension is of a different kind now. The short moment where they turn their heads towards each other feels almost too intimate to witness - we’ve never seen Lucas like that before, so comfortable, letting go of outside pressure. Then he gets up to change the music and vinyl is a great prop to use because it’s so tactile, as is the piano - the fact that Lucas is touching Eliott’s instruments is both a shorthand for their newfound closeness and umm...a bold move lmao not to mention the obvious connotation. (He doesn’t even put the vinyl back in its jacket that heathen...can’t see Eliott too bothered lmao). 

I laughed out loud at Eliott’s “I don’t want to impress you” because that is both a big fat lie and sort of true in the sense that he doesn’t want to intimidate Lucas but still wants him to think Eliott’s cool (and the two previous sentences were sort of a boast, still.) Beethoven and Star Wars feels like a very Eliott type of mix. Fur Elise is a sad but beautiful piece, that the compositor apparently dedicated to a female friend he proposed to but turned him down (?) That fits with Eliott’s tendency for pessimism and melancholy. On the other hand the Star Wars theme is playful and hopeful and geeky ; I looked up how it sounds on the piano and it’s absolutely adorable, like it was made to be a Porg lullaby. The way Eliott talks about it, slightly ironic (plus the Star Wars theme is pretty simple and Fur Elise is often played by dabblers) makes it sound like he probably taught himself a few pieces on a piano that was already in the house, as a party trick. I see Eliott appreciating this type of music, but maybe not having the persistence and discipline that getting actually good at classical demands. (And I don’t see his parents being around to push him either.) Maybe he tried and gave up or figured it wasn’t for him, which would give his admiration for Lucas’ playing a new dimension, like he knows how hard it is and brings him something he doesn’t have (but alright, I’m reaching a bit here). 

Lucas plays a few notes and Eliott teases him again about also having a triangle if he wants. Is he trying to find his bearings again after not having played for a while ? Is he also teasing ? Is he nervous, careful ? We can see him nod ever so slightly once he gets it and starts to play faster, like he’s happy to come back to this piece. The actual piece of piano by RIOPY starts fast right from the beginning but I like that they start slower here ; the whole piece is a beautiful metaphor for their relationship - starts hesitant and slow, withholding, and then the notes become deeper and the passion moves in all at once and it’s like he almost can’t contain it ? But you can also hear the effort it takes ?  The emotion is just perfect for the story and I am so impressed at Axel learning it from scratch. I wonder in what context Lucas learned it. With the title and the emotion behind it, was he dreaming of having someone to adress it to ? 

Then we have, for a brief moment, Eliott’s perspective as he sits up with a look of disbelief, amazement and then enthusiasm. And how fitting is it, really, that the first time we ever get his worldview is the exact moment he falls in love. Plus the perspective crossing adds to the impression of connection of the moment. And the way Lucas is framed from Eliott’s perspective - the light behind him gives him a halo. We go on this whole emotional journey in a few seconds with Eliott, falling in love with Lucas too. First it’s pure surprise as his eyes zoom in, like he’s just automatically drawn to get closer, to pay attention, cutting through the haze (of weed, but also his life). Then it’s awe as he just lets himself realize how amazing this boy he’s developped a crush on really is, and for a few seconds he looks almost fragile, almost like it’s too much. Then finally he smiles and it’s just the joy of the music and Lucas sharing it with him. Maxence just absolutely nails this crucial moment (and also this is the prettiest he is all season tbh fight me ; how fitting. Eliott is a ‘lover of life’ - love would make him the most beautiful, too.)

Why does this moment feel so special apart from how well it’s acted and filmed ? Well, from what we’ve seen so far from Lucas, it’s unexpected. We know that he’s clever, that he can be very manipulative, that he’s repressing his sexuality, and that he’s got trouble at home, that he’s closed off and trying very hard to pretend to be “normal”. Apart from that, there isn’t much to set him apart from the average teenage boy who likes to go out and drink beer with his mates and say slightly insulting stuff about girls and try a little too hard to be cool. So far, we can all empathize with him, but we don’t know that much positive stuff about him, to be honest. The piano scene is the first clue of how much there truly is under the surface. It’s a step away from the macho player image he’s careful to cultivate ; it’s a sign that he does have somewhat of an artistic, sensitive temperament. It’s the first revelation about him that feels wholly positive, unburdened by shame, and yet highlights how fake his closed off daily demeanour is. It’s a clue that he’s not only repressing the fact that he’s gay but a whole world of emotions, how caring and sensitive he can be - because of how rough life has been for him the past few years - social clichés, the pressure, the stuff with his family disintegrating, the homophobic jokes around him for not being masculine enough or liking ‘gay music’, how lonely and confused he must be. This season, in short, is not only about Lucas accepting he’s gay, but about himself opening up and growing into his own person, someone both strong and compassionate, bold and sensitive, defining himself beyond clichés or the heritage of his asshole father, stepping beyond his insecurities, to become his own man. That’s what the piano scene represents and why it will always be god tier.  Oh and also : it’s an offering for Eliott. He’s taking a chance here, too, and the joke he makes when he’s done...it’s almost he’s expecting to be mocked so he does it himself. I would bet that his piece of shit father probably said something about piano being too effeminate at least once. That’s kind of heartbreaking. It’s also a clue to how safe he must feel with Eliott, or at least how strongly he wants to, well, impress him to take that risk. He’s seen Eliott’s drawings and he wants to say hey me too I can be artsy !!! And his intuition is so spot on. We know Eliott’s been making drawings about them already, that he’s a romantic daydreaming about finding love stronger than fear. He’s a pessimist because of his condition and yet he really wants to believe that his emotions can be valid (that’s a key part of his arc in the season) and he can find love. So then he met Lucas ; it must have felt like love at first sight but he must also have told himself, what if this is fake, what if it’s just a random obsession, what if what if, he doesn’t even know him, what if he’s a crappy person, etc. So to discover that Lucas is actually so brilliant, and that they can connect over art, that they share this sensitivity about beauty and meaning, about wanting life to be more, and that Lucas is brave enough to reach out, and just the amount of feeling in that short piece...it must have felt so validating, and like destiny, too (we know it’s a word he will use for Lucas later). I think this is probably when Eliott really started to believe that Lucas could be his Polaris story. It’s already a ‘you’re not alone’ moment, too. 

So that scene is absolutely key in both their story arcs and their relationship. But it’s not over !  There is an awkward moment moment after Lucas is done because it feels like he’s given too much, too soon - but Eliott catches him like in a trust fall, he says yes, this meant something, it was amazing, it was surprising and I like surprising people - like I said, Eliott wanting to surprise people to test them and loving to be surprised in turn says so much about him as a character. And then the touch at the door, how did Lucas and we with him not collectively die on the spot. Because that was absolutely unambiguously a mark of interest. Love the idea that Eliott is trying not to kiss him but I also feel like he felt kind of bad for kicking Lucas out and he wanted him to know he was really interested and it was not just a buddy hang because like...in that particular context that’s just not something you do with a buddy aahhahaha. Love how the shot is framed with Eliott standing in the dark, Lucas in the light, and Lucas’ little shocked smile when the door closes. 

And then drama. Chloé is such an overdramatic teen, god - a guy she’s talked to twice stands her up and she’s like “men are trash” hgdfhgd...But it is an apt parallel with Eliott kissing Lucille. It is such a slap in the face after the earlier intensity but also like. Eliott is such a dumbass in that moment, how did he not see Lucas standing there ? To me, it means that in his head, Lucas and Lucille really are separated - Lucille is his safety net and he kisses her a little bit without thinking, automatically. The whole Lucas thing is in another world, scary and thrilling and uncertain and so he doesn’t want to give up his safety net yet. It’s ...not super healthy tbh. It’s kind of a pattern with him, of not being honest out of fear and i don’t like it, but at the same time, coming from his perspective, it is somewhat understandable. He just lives with a different set of stakes. I’m not excusing it, but yeah. Poor Lucas though. 

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