#between what I see as my lack of emotional self-awareness

[freepassbound]

First of all, I want to thank you for the april asks idea. This is so lovely, and though I am late to the party, I'll still try to participate every day. The convenient list of ask games is also very thoughtful :) I'll be reblog these, and as a personal rule, I pose (at least) one question of every list to the person I've reblogged from. Therefore, would you mind answering the following:

How long does it take you to fall in love with somebody?Is the sensation of ‘falling in love’ or ‘being in love’ better?

Thank you and have a nice day 🧡

Oh! You're quite welcome! 😊

Though boy... stepping right in with the big questions! 😮‍💨

Truthfully, I have little confidence that I am in touch with my emotions well enough to actually know the answer to either of them. But I'll give it a go.

How long does it take you to fall in love with somebody?

I don't think I'm really aware of it as it's happening? The only answer I can think of is to glibly paraphrase Hemingway on bankruptcy: slowly, then all at once. The 'slowly' part is what I'm not aware of, and it's happening while I'm getting to know them, while we're talking, while we're exchanging memes and whatever... and then I wake up one day and realize I love this person.

I think certainly it is dependent on some level of interaction with another person - I might feel fondly about some people I've never directly interacted with, but I don't think I could love them. And I think it's also dependent on the amount and the quality of the interaction.

Is the sensation of ‘falling in love’ or ‘being in love’ better?

I don't believe they can be quantified in opposition to each other. They're two very different feelings, and they're both absolutely wonderful.

[beneathashadytree]

ENAMORED - ZAYNE LI X READER

Warnings : chubby!reader, slightly suggestive at the start, making out, body image issues & insecurities, autistic!Zayne, mentions of sex, reader is AFAB and uses she/her pronouns!

Genre : hurt/comfort for the soul 🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽

Word count : 1.6K words

Additional notes : This was commissioned by one of my lovely mutuals, and I’m so thankful for the opportunity to discuss self-love and portray more diverse body types. As someone who’s on the heavier side, I’d always struggled with my own perception of my attractiveness, often stopping myself before anything because I worried too much what my partner would think. So writing this was pretty therapeutic🥹💗

Commissions are open here!

Tip jar!

Masterlist

It was impossible for her to think straight when Zayne’s all-consuming presence permeated all her senses. Not when she could smell his cologne and body wash all over her. Not when his hazy eyes, half-closed with pleasure as they met hers, drove her mad. Not when every single low sigh and impassioned whisper of her name was akin to casting a spell on her. And especially not when his soft lips were on hers, swallowing her every moan and tasting like sugar and every sweet thing she could’ve ever imagined, and yet something so distinctly him.

He was everywhere, his weight on top of her both reassuring and stimulating to the point of bringing her nerves to the fraught edge. Every inch of him that brushed up against her barely-clothed self warmed her skin and deepened her flush, and she was impossibly aware of how his calloused palms stroked her hip and her jaw like he couldn’t bear to be parted from her. And he kissed her like her absence was sin; like breaking apart for air would rob him of his own senses.

She’d never seen him so wound up and yet so molten. It was hard to believe that this was Zayne, the same man she’d once thought to be frigid. Now, when he was chasing her lips then nuzzling into her neck to sharply inhale with a rattling breath—as if she were his undoing—she knew that he was a raging inferno, and that she’d be the only one to see him like this, so rattled by how much he needed her.

“Zayne, closer,” she mumbled into his ear, her eyes hot with emotion. She craved him just as much, her hand reaching behind him to tug at the back of his shirt, pushing him closer and closer against her, crying out loud as his teeth grazed against her pulse point in her neck. Zayne’s tongue was quick to soothe that ache, though she wondered if he knew just how much he kindled the one between her thighs. Merely kissing was never enough; could never be enough when she desired him to the depths of her.

He pulled back momentarily to squeeze her hips, hungrily kissing her again and caressing his way back up her sides, deft fingers toying with the strap of her nightgown. She couldn’t hold back her shiver, his ghost of a touch more enticing than anything ever was. His tongue, twining with hers, spelled out her name, and she twirled the soft strands of hair at the back of his neck in an attempt to ground herself.

Then his finger had swiftly pulled the thin silk strap down to her arm, her heaving breasts beginning to spill out of the flimsy fabric, and with the slight chilliness of air on every inch of skin exposed, she quickly sobered up and stilled in place, her joints almost instantly locking. Zayne—sweet, observant Zayne who’d always had his eyes on her and knew her like he knew himself—frowned a little and broke their halted kiss, a look of concern washing over his face.

“Everything alright?” His voice was rougher than usual, and his face was a burning red she’d never get accustomed to, but the worry he’d always had for her was still there.

Stiffening at his question, she angled herself away from his gaze. After all, how does one explain that the whole idea of sex was still daunting? How do you voice something like that, without causing your partner to misunderstand it as rejection of their advances—or worse, a lack of attraction?

Because gods, did she find him otherworldly beautiful. How could she not, when she had eyes and a heart to see him with? How could she not, when he spoke her name like a prayer, and worshiped her at the altar like a goddess divine? How could she not, when his muscles rippled even beneath layers of clothing, and his eyes burned like they only ever saw her?

But then how could she explain how foreign the concept of sex was to her, not out of a lack of wanting—because she knew he was the one thing she’d ever wanted to fully claim, possess even with a maddening love—but out of a deeply-ingrained fear?

“Darling,” he called out to her in a voice ever-so-soft, and only then did she notice that she’d completely frozen up, and that he’d pulled back from on top of her, just one hand carefully brushing at her cheek as he regarded her with all the care in the world. “Is something wrong?” Pausing in his ministrations, a hesitant look made its way on his face. “Have I done something?”

Struggling to find her voice, she cleared her throat once, then twice. “No, no. Not you, honestly. Just… me. Something in my head, ‘s all.”

Again that uncertainty flashed in those hazel eyes, and he simply said, “If you don’t want this—”

“I do,” she breathed out, her voice a little reedier now. She didn’t want him to deny her love for him, the sheer need she’d always carried like a precious flame in her heart. Closing her eyes for a few seconds, she tried to silence the scattered noises in her head. “Stupid self-consciousness. That’s all.”

Zayne’s expression shifted to one of genuine confusion. “Of what? I’m not exactly experienced either, given that you’re the only person I’ve ever been with, or wanted, for that matter. I don’t expect things to be perfect.”

“Not that,” she whispered, discomfort tingling underneath her skin at the prospect of unpacking what she’d stowed away in a corner of her mind, hoping to will it away as time went on. “Just about my body, my appearance… things like that.”

Something akin to incredulity made Zayne’s eyes grow wide for a few seconds, as though he couldn’t believe what he was hearing; couldn’t imagine that she could have thoughts like these. His expression was then schooled to its placid calmness as he cupped her jaw. “I told you that I think you’re the most beautiful person in every room. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

She chuckled weakly, her eyes refusing to meet his. If they did, she knew she’d lose all the courage she’d barely mustered in the first place. “It’s one thing to see me dressed up, another to see my stomach rolls and big thighs in person and still find me attractive.”

Zayne simply shook his head, and a lump formed in her throat at the affectionate look in his eyes and the slight upwards quirk of his kiss-swollen lips. “All the more to love, but no less beautiful.” Perhaps he was doing it subconsciously, but the way his thumb drifted to gently caress underneath her breasts—like even the folds and creases underneath the silk there were worthy of his reverence—made her feel so seen, wholeheartedly.

“Does it,” she faltered, then went on as she glanced at his hands tracing her curves with all the fondness in the world, her own resting on his chest over his racing heart, “Does it really not matter to you?”

“If it doesn’t matter, then I’m not acknowledging it in the first place.” Zayne huffed out a chuckle, pressing lazy, open-mouthed kisses to the exposed top of her breasts, humming into her skin and sending her brain into a frenzy with every searing kiss and every languid stroke of his palm against her tummy. “Which couldn’t be further from the truth. I’m too aware of your body. Just… for an entirely different reason.” His voice was barely more than muttering now, intense eyes like green aventurine seeing her right to her core that yearned for him. “Being that it makes me want you more, all the time. Does that upset you?”

Something ignited at his words, something long dormant that she’d almost given up on, and she rushed to shake her head. She couldn’t put a finger on what it was that made her heart swell to twice its size, nor could she name that feeling of being so utterly overwhelmed with the unconditional love she’d dreamed of at night, seeing his eyes and his precious smile all for her when she closed her eyes.

Whatever it was, Zayne read it in her vulnerable expression and her pliant softness in his hands. Humming contentedly, he pushed himself back up to press fleeting, impossibly tender kisses to her eyelids, thumbs swiping at the tears dotting her lash-line and leaving feather-light kisses there too. “Then I’ll prove it to you some other day. For now, let’s sleep.”

For a moment, her eyes flitted downwards, and she worriedly began to protest. “But Zayne, you’re still—!”

A chaste peck to her lips silenced her, and he shook his head before settling into the mattress beside her, his voice carrying the weight of an unspoken vow. “We’ve got the rest of our lives for that.” Zayne’s fingers found her brows, brushing them back to ease the frown off her face, and somehow—like his touch was magic ensnaring her—it melted away into what she knew was a lovesick expression. Her heart was hammering away in her ribcage, half disbelieving of how he’d managed to make her love him even more. “I won’t want you any less in eight hours, when I can indulge in you for a longer time.”

And though the night had ended with a layer of clothing between them, with significantly less escalation than she’d predicted as they curled into each other’s warmth under the sheets and their breaths evened out, this was perhaps the most intimate she’d ever been with another person. Slipping into a deep slumber, her fingers curling into his scarred palm, she felt beyond grateful for the idea that of all people, it was with Zayne she’d fallen hopelessly in love with.

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[eoieopda]

FINE I'M HERE TO REQUEST PART 3!!! In which Chan better really GET that promotion!!!!!!! Contract signed, payroll amended!!!!!

You can make it angsty if you like, AS LONG AS you promise there will be a happy ending (in this part or........ Another 👀)

the one with chan and the promotion (iii)

you needed a ride home after getting your wisdom teeth removed. chan just so happened to be free. now, being free is the last thing he wants.

part i. part ii.

pairing: bang chan x reader au: fuck buddies to lovers, hurt/comfort type: drabble (angst, fluff) rating: 18+ | minors do not have my consent to interact with me and/or my content. wc: 3.1k cw: mad!chan makes a brief appearance but otherwise remains the best boy; gn!reader (no gendered language used); reader may or may not show some degree of emotional availability (gasp!); due to the nature of their relationship, sex is referenced but not actually depicted; very briefly/incompletely edited, oops. a/n: i love you completely and am so fucking sorry it took four (4) months for me to finish this 😵‍💫 i have an epilogue i can offer in penance, if you want it! everyone else, please read the first two parts before reading this!

Chan may be an idiot, but at least he’s self-aware.

He knew it was a bad idea to get his hopes up; to expect that things would change quickly between you, if at all. Even though he saw the letdown coming from a kilometer away, he didn’t do a thing to brace himself for it. It’s his fault, he knows, for exaggerating his place in your life — but that doesn’t make the disappointment bruise any less when the week after your wisdom teeth removal flies by in radio silence.

The lack of conversation isn’t for lack of trying. As he scrolls through your half-vacant text thread now, Chan feels all his efforts staring back at him. All those attempted check-ins marked delivered but not well-received. Swings and misses.

Prior to sending each one of them, he spent minutes upon minutes agonizing over the tone — and the use of emojis — and the possible implications of the proposed emojis — and the fear that he’d just come off clingy, not invested. Reading the finished versions back now, he can recall with perfect accuracy the drafts he typed out and immediately, feverishly deleted. Considering the way they litter his brain, there may as well be a trail of crumpled-up notes in all that metadata.

Does it make Chan cringe to look back and watch himself flatline? Absolutely.

Does that stop him from salting his own wounds? Nope. It never has and likely never will.

Maybe, he figures, he’ll spot where he went wrong and find a way to un-dig this ditch he’s seemingly made.

[Sent 2024/7/23, 15:22] Just got home. Have you fallen back asleep already? Lol 

Naver says your swelling might be kind of bad tomorrow. Do you need ice packs? I have the gel kind that you can mold. Might be more comfortable than a bag of ice cubes 🤔 Lmk!

[Sent 2024/7/25, 08:03] Hi, Hamtori 🐹 How are your cheeks?

I made too much gamjaguk again. I can drop some off if

[Sent 2024/7/26, 17:49] Graduate to solid foods yet?

I hope the antibiotics aren’t making your stomach upset

DON’T LAUGH but I made you a super chill Spotify playlist with healing vibes to

Idk if you remember, but I promised to take you out for pork belly next week. If you’re up for it, are you free on

I miss y

[Sent 2024/7/29, 00:16] Hey

Or maybe, he thinks, he’ll just beat his head against his bedroom wall instead; and eventually, he’ll forget what it felt like to be yours for the day, rather than a night.

Four more days pass without a word from you. Under normal circumstances, one of you would’ve invited the other over at least twice in the eleven days since your dental appointment. No matter how infrequently the two of you chatted outside of your recurrent trysts, neither one of you has ever gone this long without summoning the other.

Something is wrong.

At this point, Chan sees two explanations for the way you’ve fallen completely off the grid: you’ve either succumbed to some tragic, post-op. complication and died, or he’s irreparably fucked something up with you without knowing how or when he misstepped. Neither one of those is an outcome he’s willing to accept. 

The voice in his head nags him so forcefully and consistently that his body eventually gives in. Undeterred by his better judgment, Chan lets it guide him up, out, and onward until he winds up on the sidewalk outside his building.

On the walk to your apartment, he mulls over the foreseeable consequences of the actions he’s already set in motion. It’s certifiably insane to pop in you like this, and once again, he only sees two options: you’ll slam the door in his face, or he’ll confirm once and for all that you’ve left this mortal coil. Bad on all counts, really, but anything is better than nothing.

His timing, as it turns out, couldn’t be better. Right as he lands at the front door, when he needs to think of a way to get in without buzzing you, a neighbor he’s seen once or twice before opens it to leave. Politely, they hold it open for him, likely mistaking him for someone with any right to be there — someone whose primary to you actually makes sense. Chan thanks them with a nod of his head and a sheepish smile before slipping through the opening.

As the elevator ascends, his fingers move of their own accord, anxiously tapping out a rhythm on the stainless steel wall he leans against. Every worst-case scenario flashes through his mind. There’s a flash of something else there, too, though. Something even more nerve-wracking than all his catastrophizing; something that makes his stomach flip.

Hope.

“Oi, none of that,” he mutters to himself.

It doesn’t work. When Chan approaches the doors in the second before they open, he makes eye contact with his reflection and sees that easy, ill-advised smile creeping up on him.

As he exits that giant metal box, he shakes his head with an anxious laugh. If he’s this embarrassed by himself when he’s alone, the chances of him living through the way you’re about to look at him are…

Well…

Abysmal.

But that doesn’t stop him from powering his way down the hall towards your door. Coincidentally, neither does the fact that he doesn’t have a plan for what he’ll do when he reaches it.

Figuring knocking is as good a start as any, that’s precisely what Chan does, shifting his weight from one foot to the other to appear more nonchalant. 

Then, he waits.

And then, he waits some more.

After thirty seconds pass without a response, Chan knocks again, carefully balancing the weight of his fist against it so the sound of it isn’t too assertive — or too eager — or too desperate — or —

“Left about an hour ago,” a voice says from a few meters away.

Chan turns towards the sound. Several units down, an old woman’s head pokes out of an open doorway. He can’t tell if she’s intentionally frowning at him or if it’s the weight of her jowls pulling the corners of her mouth down. Either way, it feels bad.

Running an anxious hand over the back of his increasingly warm neck, he coughs, “Oh?”

The ajumma clicks her tongue disapprovingly. “You young people never put those cell phones down and yet you still wind up like this.” She works herself up further; her nostrils flare as she rambles, “In my day, it was rude to show up unannounced. We called ahead, and when we called ahead, people were there to answer the door.”

Chan isn’t above arguing with some personified wrinkle, but he likes to think you would be. Even though you’re not here to witness it, it feels important to be the person you might like him to be. 

So, he bites his tongue. 

He nods yet again with a polite smile.

He turns on his heels.

And when he shuffles back towards the elevator, there’s a hell of a lot less of a spring in his step.

Two days go by after Chan’s little fieldtrip. Just like the previous several, they slip away quietly. This time, however, he doesn’t check-in — doesn’t type out his thoughts just to immediately erase them; doesn’t stare at his phone and wait to prove it to himself that it won’t chime.

Lesson learned, really.

It was a bad idea to bet the house on maybes. He knew it on the front end and still chose optimism; now, it serves him right. Played stupid games and won stupid prizes, as you like to say. If only he could stop thinking about what you like to say and instead focus on the fact that you haven’t said anything at all.

Chan grits his teeth and tries hard to focus on the game lighting up his monitor. Whatever Yongbok talked him into playing doesn’t make him feel any better about fumbling you — in fact, it’s proving to be yet another thing he’s terrible at — but it’s sufficiently distracting to have his friends swearing each other up and down in their Discord voice channel.

Actually, he stands corrected. This is also terrible, albeit a different flavor of garbage than his hopeless mooning over you.

Maybe radio silence is better.

As soon as that thought crosses his mind, his phone buzzes against the surface of his desk — three long taps bookended by three short ones. 

Before Chan reaches for it, he lets the poetry of it all sink in. SOS, his phone declares whenever you text him. Originally, although he’ll never fucking tell you so, he chose that text tone because hearing from you salvaged his day, every time. Now, it reminds him that he’s in over his head with no life preserver in sight.

Not bad, he thinks. He should write that bit down in the notebook of lyrics he ruminates over but never puts to music, let alone shares.

The lack of action on his part prompts his phone to vibrate again for emphasis. 

SOS!

Beaming white light bores into his retinas when he finally opens his inbox, and Chan refuses to think about the million times you’ve told him to switch to dark mode or the infinitely-brighter shit he’s been roasting under since he started this game several hours back. All he thinks about instead is the first grey text in an ocean of blue:

[2024/8/04, 23:37] you up?

You tilt your head to the side, smiling coyly when you crack open the door and find Chan standing on your doorstep with his hood up and hands in his pockets. Outside the windows behind you, the downpour he just trudged through continues to dampen his mood.

“Fancy meeting you here,” you lilt, like nothing has changed at all.

That’s the problem, isn’t it?  

Chan lifts his chin slightly as some half-assed nod to let you know that his ears work, if nothing else. Either missing his stony expression or ignoring it, you simply open the door wider, beckoning him to follow you with a gentle wave of your free hand.

He wants so badly to smile back at you as easily as you smile at him — really, he does, but fuck, he can’t make his face do anything but harden.

Once he toes off his shoes, he expects you to lead him straight to your room — or your couch — or any of the other various services the pair of you have misappropriated along the way. You don’t, though. With your lips pensively pursed, you shuffle a bit closer; and as soon as you can reach him properly, you raise both of your hands. One flattens against his now rain-soaked sweatshirt; the other goes for his zipper, tugging gently until there’s nothing left to hold him together.

Carefully, Chan eyes you; watches while you slip the fabric off his shoulders, as if it isn’t twice as heavy as it was when he put it on. Like it’s easy, you turn away, open the nearby closet, and toss that wet mess into the top-half of your standing washer-dryer.

“I think…” Your tiny, upward curve returns while your sentence peters out. Softly, you reach up and brush a damp curl off his forehead. “An umbrella would be a worthwhile investment.”

He should join in on the bit. He should banter right back. He should smile, too — for fuck’s sake — because you’re finally right here. You’re talking to him within touching distance, radiating warmth he wants to live in, and he should touch you the way you want to be touched — the way you summoned him here to touch you.

He should do a lot of things, none of which include snapping at you, and yet —

“Why the hell am I here?”

It catches you both off-guard. You, because Chan has never once spoken to you any other way but kindly. Him, because you don’t actually look all that surprised by the sentiment, even if the presentation isn’t what you expected.

Somehow, that’s the thing that stings the most; not the way your face falls at his gruffness but the inkling you must have had before you asked him over that things between you aren’t sitting right at all.

Chan doesn’t get a response, so he asks another way: “Did you notice all of those unanswered texts when you sent yours, or did you ignore them all over again?”

It dawns on you — and him too, if he’s being honest — that you’ve still got your hands resting delicately on his chest. You reel your arms back in and cross them, not defiantly but diminutively. You shrink right in front of him; and regret hits him like a fist to the side of his skull.

“I didn’t know what to do with them.” Your head lowers while you do your best to look anywhere else.

That’s —

“Bullshit. I’m sorry, but it’s really not hard to keep up a conversation, especially when someone is just asking how you’re feeling.” Instantly he feels terrible for snapping. Softening his tone slightly, he sighs, “I know you know how.”

You look up at him without tilting your head much at all. Peering over that brick wall of yours, he figures. “That’s the thing, though. I don’t know.”

The face he pulls must convey what he’s thinking: Are you fucking kidding me? But you’re quick to prevent him from jumping to any further-out conclusions, amending, “I don’t know how I feel.”

Chan opens his mouth to respond, then thinks better of it. It’s rare for you to open up to the extent you might be about to; and it’s a miracle that you might be willing to now, given the fact that he’s come at you blindly at 160 kilometers per hour.

“I don’t like needing people.” 

Your attention is drawn to your fidgeting fingers and the drawstring of the sweatpants they occupy themselves with. The overwhelming urge he feels to grab them, to hold them still, goes ignored and makes his own hands tense. He focuses hard on your face instead; the crease between your eyebrows while you plot out your next steps.

“I didn’t want to need you, but then I did need you — and you just… you came, no questions asked.” You laugh, either despite your visible discomfort or because of it. “Held my hand and all that, didn’t just drop me on the curb and say, hit me up when you’re down again.”

Chan feels as if he’s been punched, although it’s not offense he takes from your statement. Judging by that flicker of hurt in your eyes, the expectation you had wasn’t for him, personally. It was history. 

You shift where you stand from one foot to another, like that weight on your shoulders is changing. He doesn’t know if it’s getting heavier or lighter until you finally lift your chin to look at him squarely. 

“It scared the shit out of me, honestly — how easy you are to need — so, I did what I always do: I bailed.” Sighing, you finally seem to register how much anxiety you’re holding in your hands. You drop it, then drop them to your sides. “But I think I’ve figured it out.”

You smile slightly, and suddenly, he feels lighter. “I’ve been conflating them, but they’re completely different things, aren’t they?”

Chan arches an eyebrow. Truly, he’s at a loss. He can’t predict which direction you’re about to turn in. Seeming to sense this, you answer his unasked question, “Wanting to need you and wanting you.”

While this makes his brain pause, his body moves. Cautiously, he steps forward and watches you counter him until your back is flush against the wall behind you. 

“Can I have a definition, then, please?” He pleads, voice low, while his hands gently claim your hips. “Because I thought it was want behind the booty call that brought me here, and I don’t want to find myself on a completely different page again.”

You link your arms around his neck and eye him carefully. “It was,” you acknowledge with a small nod. “Different kind, though — a shallow one.”

Chan finds his mouth curving up at the corner, all on its own. His gaze drops from yours to your lips, then back again. It’d be so easy to kiss you now, but he can’t unless he gets some sort of confirmation. “We’re in the deep end now, then?”

“Moving that way, at least. I spook easily, though…” You’d probably love nothing more than to look away when you admit that bit out loud, but to your credit, you don’t. Instead, you run your fingernails softly through the hair at his nape. “I’m not entitled to any more of your patience, but would you be willing to take it one day at a time?”

Chan wishes that he’d at least pretended to consider this. He doubts you’ve ever had a vision of him as someone nonchalant — in fact, he’s the poster boy for chalance in whichever reality that word exists — but it would’ve been infinitely cooler of him not to respond immediately and wholeheartedly with a rushed sigh, “Fuckin’ right, I am,” before leaning in to kiss you absolutely stupid.

Whatever gratification he can’t find by licking into the mouth you open eagerly for him, he finds in the way you keen when he presses his body more fully against yours. The payoff is even better when he stops short, divorcing your respective lips entirely.

“I’m not gonna fuck you,” he announces, breathless. His grin widens; meanwhile, your eyebrows shoot up your forehead. “No! Not, like, never — I don’t have that kind of resolve — but not tonight.”

The sudden switch makes you dizzy. Thankfully, it makes you laugh, too. 

“Don’t tell me you just want to enjoy my company,” you warn. You attempt to say it earnestly, but a smile cracks you wide open. “I’m still too prone to bolt when I hear cute shit like that.”

Chan shakes his head. “No, I’m telling you to plant yourself on that couch —” He pulls his right hand off your left hip and gestures blindly over his shoulder. “I’m also telling you that I am getting takeout.”

You narrow your eyes in feigned suspicion. “I wonder what you could possibly be ordering.”

“Belated pork belly is better than no pork belly.” He narrows his eyes to mirror hours, then kisses you quickly, murmuring, “One for the road,” against your lips.

Then, he dashes off towards your front door. As he goes, he just barely catches you nagging him through your laughter:

“If you’re not going to wait for your sweatshirt, can you at least take an umbrella?”

while likes are appreciated, comments/tags/reblogs with your thoughts are really what make my brain go brrrtt.

skz taglist. multi taglist. navigation.

due to tumblr being ass with tags lately, i’m going to be tagging people in the comments for the time being!

[k2padfoot]

Perfect

Eddie Munson x Y/n

summary: when your mind is plagued by bad thoughts Eddie wants nothing more than to comfort and reassure you just how perfect you really are. best friends to lovers.

warnings: TW. body shaming, mentions of anorexia, smoking, self loathing, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff. SMUT!! (unprotected sex).

A/N: this fic is based on my own experience of skinny shaming. i don’t think a lot of people realize how hurtful it really is to be shamed in any way about your body. please be understanding and kind, all bodies are beautiful! also this is my first time writing smut so i hope y’all like it!!

“She’s so skinny it’s gross.”

“Look at her chicken legs.”

“Does she even eat anything?”

“She looks anorexic.”

“Isn’t she eighteen? She literally looks twelve.”

When your ears caught echo of the painful words from the girls behind you, you abandoned your lunch tray, it’s contents untouched on the table. A rush of emotion had you swiftly leaving the cafeteria, seeking solace beyond its walls.

It's not as if the whispers were unfamiliar to you. They’ve been a haunting refrain since childhood, but with the passing of time their intensity swelled, casting a darker shadow over you.

You harbored a self-loathing, a visual disdain to your own reflection, fueled by the relentless comparison to every other girl in school. Your legs seemed too slender, arms too skinny, lacking in curves, and a chest that barley made its presence known.

You found yourself walking into the woods and taking a seat at the aging picnic table nestled in the clearing. As you settled onto its weathered surface you allowed your head to fall into your hands while the tears began to flow.

The cascade of tears persisted, blurring your perception of the world around you, but the subtle sound of someone settling into the seat across from you reached your ears.

Aware that it was none other than your best friend, Eddie Munson, you didn’t have the courage to lift your gaze and meet his eyes.

You felt his comforting touch on your wrist as he delicately withdrew your trembling hands from your face, his voice laced with genuine concern, “What’s wrong sweetheart?”

Your gaze barley rose to meet his, and the tears that welled in your eyes tugged at the strings of Eddie’s heart.

A fractured sigh escaped your lips, “You know just the perfect little cheerleaders spitting insults at me like usual.” You remarked with a scoff, a touch of bitterness in your voice.

A wave of distress swept over Eddie, unsettled by your words. “I’m sorry sweetheart. They’re just a bunch of preppy assholes, I know how shitty it feels to be the focal point of their laughs but you don’t deserve that. How can I help?”

In the quiet recess of your mind you considered a little temporary solution. “Hmm, you got a joint on you by any chance?”

A sly grin splayed on his lips, “Of course I do.” He quickly reached into his backpack pulling one out and sparking the end, “Don’t go anywhere without one.” Your eyes were glued to his lips as he took the joint into his mouth and slowly exhaled the smoke.

You finally broke the unyielding hold of your gaze when Eddie passed you the joint, taking it in between your lips and drawing in the smoke, Eddie couldn’t help but stare at the way it left your lips.

After the joint was passed back and forth until it was no longer burning you began to gather your things.

“You going home?” Eddie asked as he started to get up from the table.

“Yeah, don’t really feel up to going back to class.” You said, following his actions standing up and swinging your bag over your shoulder.

“Okay, I’ll join you.”

A rough sigh left your lips, “No Eddie, you have to go back to class if you want to graduate this year. I’ll be fine, seriously don’t worry about it.”

Eddie was hesitant to leave, in all honesty he just wants to take you home and tell you how beautiful you are, but he knows he can’t. “If you’re sure.” He said.

“I am Eddie, I’ll see you later tonight okay? Now get back to class.” You teased and he nodded before turning around, reluctance lingering in his every step away from you.

Eddie Munson found himself entangled in an enchantment with you, a feeling reciprocated by your own infatuation of him. However, the unspoken truth hung in the air, an uncharted territory where vulnerability loomed, both fearing to confess thinking the other might not feel the same.

Eddie hurried out of Hellfire in anticipation to get to your house. It was a movie night just like every Friday night, and in the wake of todays events, Eddie felt an undeniable urge to make this night special for you. To get your mind off of the harsh realities of the day. So he stopped at the general store grabbing all of your favorite snacks and picked up one of your favorite horror films from family video, A Nightmare on Elm Street.

When Eddie pulled into your driveway he was confused to see no lights on, he knew your parents were out of town but not even your bedroom light was on. Eddie jumped out of the van and hurried to the door, he knew you were home because your car was in the driveway so with his hands full of snacks he knocked a few times.

After the fourth unanswered knock, he hesitated briefly before cautiously turning the doorknob, and to his surprise it was unlocked.

Venturing into the dimly lit living area, he called out your name, the echoes of his voice fading into an unsettling silence. He continued on through the house making his way upstairs to your bedroom. As he reached your bedroom, Eddie’s worry intensified at the absence of your presence.

In that moment a delicate murmur of hushed sniffles reached his ears coming from the direction of your bathroom.

As he got closer he could hear the sobs racking through your body resonating through the closed door like a haunted melody.

Slowly as to not startle you he eased the door open revealing a sight that sent a shiver through him. There you were, a fragile silhouette against the wall, your form cradled by the floor. Knees drawn close, hands entwined in strands of your hair, and your face pressed against the haven of your legs. 

“Y-Y/n?” Eddie's voice, a gentle whisper, faltered as he knelt before you. "Sweetheart, I'm here.” He uttered, his warm hands finding solace on the curve of your knees.

At the sudden awareness of his presence, your head snapped upward, revealing your puffy red-rimmed eyes and tear stained cheeks. Your words struggled to escape, “Shit, I-I forgot you were coming over, I’m sorry.” A wave of guilt and embarrassment draped over you as you let your head fall back to your knees and your fingers grip into your hair.

“Princess, please stop pulling at that beautiful hair of yours.” Eddie’s gentle touch eased your hands from your head. “Can you look at me?” He whispered, delicately lifting your chin, his eyes searching the depths of your own.

“Talk to me sweetheart, tell me what’s bothering you.” His soft voice accompanied the feather-light dance of his thumb along the curve of your cheek.

A pause hung in the air as more tears fell from your eyes. “I-I hate my body. I hate the way I’m so fucking skinny compared to all the beautiful girls at school. I wish that I didn’t look like this, it’s disgusting!”

A heavy ache settled in his chest as he looked at you with sad eyes. “Don’t say that, you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen Y/n.” His words softly spilled.

“W-What?”

He smiled gently, fingers softly sweeping to push aside a stray hair from your face, his touch lingering there for a moment. “Yeah, to me your perfect.”

Once more, you lowered your head, “Eddie—

“Stop, just listen to me for a second.” Again, he tenderly lifted your chin coaxing your eyes to meet his. “The first time I saw you, you took my breath away. Everything about you is so captivating, every facet of your being mesmerized me. From your striking eyes, to your infectious smile, the tiny little freckles like constellations on your skin. To the curves of your hips, and the shape of your thighs like a dance of contours, God you are just so beautiful Y/n.”

In that instant, your eyes welled up with tears stirred by his unexpected honesty. Caught in the shock of the moment, you instinctively surged forward bridging the gap as your lips met his in a tender, unexpected embrace.

Initially catching Eddie off guard, the awareness finally dawned on him that your lips had found his, instantly melting into the kiss. His hands ascended, gently cradling your face, while you fervently grasped at his soft locks. You both felt a whirlwind of sensations as neither of you had the intention to stop, yet the necessity for a breath of air became an undeniable plea.

As you reluctantly pulled away, a glistening thread of your mixed saliva separated your entwined lips. In that lingering moment you exchanged an intense gaze full of unspoken emotions.

“W-Wow, I’ve been waiting forever to do that.” He admitted, a warm smile splayed across his lips that was woven with threads of love.

You couldn’t help the flutter of butterflies in your stomach, and the undeniable love swelling within your chest. “Me too.”

“Good, I’ve always liked you I just didn’t want to ruin our friendship incase you didn’t feel the same way about me.” He told you.

You let out a light hearted giggle, “Well that’s ridiculous isn’t it, because I’ve had feelings for you for years now.”

A curious frown etched across his brow, “So you’re saying you could’ve been mine all along?”

“Yes, because I’ve always been yours Eddie. I think we’ve wasted some serious time tiptoeing around our feelings for each other.” You let out a playful laugh.

“Well we don’t have to waste time anymore, do we?” Eddie said, his lips turning into a cunning grin.

You had to squeeze your thighs together when your eyes caught the bulge forming in his jeans. “Well, I-I guess you’re right.”

He roughly planted his lips on yours in a needy manner, swiftly pulling you to your feet and tugging you flush against his chest. His hands were exploring all over your body as he gently guided you towards your bedroom.

He softly tossed you onto the bed before reconnecting your lips in a desperate manner. “So beautiful.” Eddie muttered between kisses before his lips trailed to your neck and then to your ear. When he placed a gentle bite to your ear a hushed moan escaped your lips.

After placing a few more marks on your neck he drew himself back, his hands reaching for the hem of your t-shirt.

“W-wait!” you hastily rose your voice.

Eddie’s eyes went wide with fear, “I-I’m sorry, did I do something wrong? Is this too much?”

“No! No, it’s just— I don’t want you to be disappointed.” A sad frown cast upon your face as you looked down to your hands.

“Disappointed? Baby I could never be disappointed by you. Please, let me show you how truly beautiful I think you are.” Eddie pleaded with you, his hands gliding softly up your arms until they reached your cheeks, gently cradling your face to meet his gaze.

You hesitated for a moment but you trust Eddie, and his earlier words echoed in the chambers of your mind reassuring your decision to trust him. “O-Okay, you can take it off.”

Gently Eddie pulled off your shirt and you instinctively wrapped your arms around your chest as to conceal yourself.

“Hey, don’t do that sweetheart, I want to see all of your beauty.” His gentle words resonated as he reached for your arms, slowly encouraging them away from the protective fortress of your chest.

“See, you’re gorgeous baby. Is it okay if I take this off?” He gestured to your lacy pink bra and you tentatively nodded.

The clasp of your bra broke free and Eddie took this chance to take the rest of it off, “Fuck.” He let out a hushed breath as he took in the sight of your bare chest. “So fucking perfect.” He muttered through sloppy kisses down your neck until he reached your breast. Without warning he took your nipple into his mouth and began swirling his tongue around it, earning a loud moan from you.

“Mmm, you sound so pretty baby.” Eddie groaned against your tits.

Through muffled moans you pushed Eddie off of your chest, “Eds, c-can you take your shirt off? I wanna see you too.” You practically begged.

Eddie grinned at your anticipation before throwing his shirt over his head and onto the floor. Your fingers ran across his exposed skin stopping to trace the tattoos adorning his chest. “You’re so pretty Eds.”

Immediately he closed the gap between you engulfing your lips into his with a hungry intent. Swiftly his hand slid into your shorts and found your clothed heat, he didn’t waste a minute before rubbing soft circles on your clit causing you to moan even more. “Eddie, please.” you plead against his lips.

“Shh princess, I wanna show you how pretty you are.” Before you could grasp any thoughts they were quickly swept away when he yanked down your shorts along with your panties earning a sultry gasp from your lips.

“Shit. You’re fucking unreal.” Eddie kneeled in front of you staring at you like a piece of art. He bent down planting tender kisses across the landscape of your stomach, continuing with equal devotion down to the curve of your hips. Delicate kisses lingered in the warmth between each thigh, “So, so beautiful.” He whispered with an unwavering devotion

You could feel your heat dripping in anticipation. In any other situation you would’ve halted any advance to get your shirt off, let alone your pants, but this was Eddie. Eddie, who was currently worshiping you as if you were a divine being.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good princess.” He uttered just before engulfing his face into your pussy. “Ahh, fuck Eddie!” you cried out between breathless moans, his tongue lapping at your clit like a starved animal.

“That feel good baby?” Eddie struggled to say with his mouth on your cunt.

“Fuck yes baby, keep going!” you shouted out in bliss.

A wave of confidence swept through him at the passionate sounds he was eliciting from you, compelling him to slip a finger into your entrance while he worked at your clit with his tongue.

Intense waves of pleasure began to consume your body as his fingers plunged in and out of your hole, finding yourself having no control you gripped onto Eddie’s hair, “I-I’m gonna, fuck I’m—

“Let go sweetheart, I’ve got you.” His words were enough to have your orgasm rushing through you as loud moans and Eddie’s name repeated like a mantra from your lips.

He quickly lapped up your juices, gazing at you with blown eyes before gently caressing his hands up and down the length of your legs. “Jesus, I love these gorgeous legs.” He uttered softly before trailing his hands up to your hips, delicately tracing them with the grace of his fingertips. “And these sexy hips.”

Before you knew it his hands were gliding up your stomach, ascending to your chest, only to stop with a gentle touch to your face. “Beautiful girl.” He whispered, allowing his thumb to tenderly stroke your cheek.

His sweet words stirred a spring of tears in your eyes, an irresistible surge of emotion that had you crashing your lips into his. Your lips worked in sync, tongues dancing in a fervent rhythm, creating a mess of wet kisses and the occasional collision of teeth.

“Eddie?” You pulled away from the kiss, “I want to feel you.”

Eddie could feel his cock angry against his jeans and he wanted nothing more than to give it to you and only you. He quickly jumped up, pulling his pants down along with his boxers before he reclaimed his position, settling once again atop you. In a breathy whisper, he spoke softly, his lips grazing yours, “You don’t have to tell me twice sweetheart.”

He took his cock in his hands and swiped it through your glistening folds a few times before slapping it against your clit. “Oohh, Eddie please.” You begged.

A content smile traced its way across his lips as he hovered above your entrance, leaning down to kiss you before sinking into your pussy. An audible gasp could be heard from your lips as his cock filled you up, “Fuck you’re so tight.” Eddie practically moaned into your mouth.

He was taking it slow, indulging in the warmth of your walls, but you reached a point where you couldn’t take it any longer. “Eddie fuck me, fuck me faster!” You practically yelled after parting your lips from his, and your legs wrapped around his back, a deliberate gesture to have him deeper inside of you.

Eddie reached his limit, unable to resit your desperate pleas for him, unable to resit the way your walls sucked him in. “Yeah? You want more?” He said, words laced with desire. You watched as he began to relentlessly thrust into you, the way his cock slid in out of your wet hole so easily had your head spinning, and his hands trailing all over your body earned more sinful moans from your mouth.

“Mmm, that’s it. You’re so fucking gorgeous Y/n.” He uttered before seizing your hips with a firm grip to draw you closer as he settled onto his knees, a new angle that had your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

With each rough thrust he skillfully targeted that sensitive spot you craved the most, you were seconds away from unraveling, that familiar euphoric wave rendering your brain with bliss and leaving you breathless. Your walls began clenching around him and he knew you were coming undone, “Cum for me baby, cum all over my cock.”

As your orgasm washed over you, you were a moaning mess unable to stop yourself from the cries and disarray of words leaving your lips. “Ahhh! Fuck, oh fuck Eddie I love you!”

Eddie’s thrust we’re starting to get sloppy as his own orgasm was approaching, “Say that again.” He muttered, grabbing your chin with a gentle but firm touch ensuring you were looking at him.

“I love you Eddie.” You repeated for him, and Eddie’s hips rutted into yours roughly.

“Ohhh fuck Y/n, I love you so much!” He practically cried out, his lips latching onto yours as his cock twitched inside of you, his warm release spilling into your pussy.

Through breathless pants and sloppy kisses, Eddie laid you back down on the bed and slowly eased out of you. “Let me go get something to clean you up.” He told you before darting to your the bathroom.

When he came back, a fresh towel in hand, he couldn’t help but smile at the way you looked so fucked out against the pillows.

“I’m just gonna clean you up quick.” He said and in response you mindlessly nodded as he gently wiped away your mixtures of cum.

After tossing the towel into the hamper, he leaned down to grab his discarded clothes when you protested. “No don’t, lay with me?”

The warm smile upon his lips illuminated the room as he gracefully joined you in bed. You gently raised your head, resting it upon his chest, as he nestled below you. His arms instinctively wrapping around you, legs entwined, a profound sense of comfort and familiarity enveloped you both, as if this was the missing piece, the way you were always meant to be.

Eddie’s fingers gently threaded through you hair, almost sending you into a soothing slumber when his voice gently interrupted your sleepy state.

“Can I ask you something?”

You blinked your tired eyes glancing upward at him,“Hmm? Yeah sure.”

Eddie’s voice carried a delicate hesitation, “Did you really mean that? You know when you said—

“When I said I love you? Yeah, I meant it.” You interrupted before he could finish.

Emotion quietly unfolded in the depths of his gaze, a softness reflecting in his eyes at your words. “Good, because I did too.”

A broad smile crept across your cheeks as you leaned in sealing the connection with a kiss, a kiss filled with not only passion but the language of love.

As Eddie gently withdrew, his gaze lingered in a tender lock with your eyes, “One more question, can I be your boyfriend?”

A fluttering storm of butterflies danced within the confines of your stomach as a delightful giggle escaped you, “Yes. Yes, yes, 1000x yes!” The sheer excitement had you throwing yourself into his arms as he embraced you with an even firmer grip.

You knew with Eddie by your side, the shadows of doubt would never cast themselves upon you again.

[winterarmyy]

Behind The Facades | Part II

An unrequited pining over a certain super solider.

Navigation: Part I || Part II || Part III (end)

Words: 3.3k++

Pairings: avenger!bucky x female!reader

Warnings: angst. pent up anger. unspoken jealousy. conflicted feelings.

P/S: i heard you. i got you. since lots of you enjoyed the supposedly oneshot, so i decided to do a continuation for this couple. Hope you enjoy~

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Weeks gone by, months flown through and the team was already accustomed Bucky's girlfriend wandering around the tower. Though they thought she would move-in eventually, knowing that Tony allowed them to do so, but she hadn't done it yet.

While Y/N, on the other hand, felt like she was constantly walking on thin ice. Being tug in between holding herself together and breaking down.

What's worst about this was, deep down, Y/N wanted to hate her.

Gail Richards.

Bucky's girl.

A gorgeous red-head, sultry champagne-colored eyes, a deep dimple on her right cheek, sculptured body of goddess and heart of gold.

Y/N got to admit that she hated how perfect Gail was for Bucky. She had such a kind soul; it's impossible not to fall for her. In hindsight, she was exactly what Bucky needed in his life.

What he deserve.

And in the end, Gail managed to steal not just Bucky's heart, but also the entire team's.

Including Y/N herself.

The friendship between Gail and Y/N was true and genuine; even if it hurts her everytime when she was forced to see Gail canoodling with the man she had fallen madly in love with.

"So where's the date? Did he tell you or is it a surprise kind of thing?" Gail's questions snapped Y/N from her deep internal thoughts.

Her gaze fell into her own reflection in the mirror; she was fitted with a simple black satin dress, with a quite scandalous slit on one side on her thigh. Standing behind her, was Gail, helping her out with the pearl necklace she was graciously lending it to Y/N.

"I don't remember the name but it's that new michelin star restaurant." Y/N replied as she straighten her dress, suddenly feeling conscious of how tight the dress was hugging her body.

"Oh! I know that fancy new restaurant. It opened last week, right? Bucky and I haven't had the chance to go yet. I heard it's pretty hard to get reservation. I must say, I'm impressed."

While Gail seemed to approve of Y/N's date, she didn't notice the way Y/N's body froze as she mentioned Bucky's name.

Her fingers were itching to dug it's nails somewhere, anywhere; as she try to keep her composure as neutral as possible, "Yeah, I'll definitely give you my review before you guys go on a date there. Who knows if its not up to the standards, right?"

Oh, how desperate she was on wanting to hide her pain away.

"That's great, y/n! But, I'd rather you actually enjoy the date rather than secretly being an undercover food critique. Forget about everything and have fun for once! Who knows this one is a keeper, huh?" Gail rubbed her hands to side of Y/N's arms; her eyes brighten as she encouraged her.

Ignorance is truly a bliss; though it's not that she knows that Y/N had been in love with Bucky this whole time.

On the other hand, Bucky was starting to feel the effects of what Gail had warned him before. He doesn't want to feel like she doesn't love him because she does.

At least she tries to.

Persuing Gail was not necessarily easy; not because he was lacking or she played hard to get. But because of how honest she was; how self aware she was.

"Being with me is a hell of a challenge, Bucky. My emotions are unpredictable. Today, I will love you ever so truly; I will drown you with all the kisses and cuddles you could ever imagine but the next day you might not being able to talk to me or even see me."

"I'll go M.I.A and isolate myself from the world at any time, with no warning. I shut down without any reason."

"I might not be there for you when you needed me the most. I might abandon you when all you wanted for me to stay."

"Worst part about it is I won't feel sorry for what I did because I can barely feel anything during those time."

But he insisted to try.

Maybe it was the sudden surge of passion when he met her but he was determined that they could make it work.

So, try they did.

As his relationship with Gail progresses, his and y/n's started to astray. He noticed y/n has been keeping her distance with him since he got together with Gail.

She had been cooped up in her room more often. There was a gradual changes in their schedule. Lesser trips to the corndog stall that y/n was obsessed with, canceled trips on visiting Alpine, the cute little kitten they have been eyeing at the adoption center, and almost none of the late night coffee trips.

He missed her.

From her annoying laugh to her odd habit of scratching things in her sleep.

Her smile, her voice, her presence.

He missed all of it.

He missed her.

Which was why Bucky thought it was better to talk it out with her. Maybe there was some sort of misunderstanding that needed to be clear out.

It took just single knock before Bucky intrude himself into Y/N's room, "Hey, y/n I don't want to disturb you but can we..." Bucky's sentence did not managed to end with a period, thus his words was instead left hanging just like his mouth.

"Oh, wow."

For a moment there, Bucky literally forgot how to breath. It was as if the reality around him was deteriorating, leaving just the perfect view of Y/N. For a split second, his gaze seemed to dilated into a trance, slowly getting bewitched by the beauty before him.

Bucky was so captivated by how, almost sinfully, beautiful Y/N looked in that dress, he didn't notice his own girlfriend was standing right next to her.

Gail carefully slide her way towards Bucky as she prompted, "So... what do you think, Buck? Gorgeous isn't she?" A dreamy sigh escaped from Gail's lips as she admire the woman in front of her.

"Yes. Yes, she is."

Those were the words Bucky wanted to say but his mouth wasn't listening to his heart, rather it followed his head, "I didn't know you were coming over, honey." Bucky arms reached towards Gail as he scooped her close to him, placing a soft kiss on her cheek.

It was subtle but if they paid enough attention, they could see how Y/N's gaze quickly shifted downwards to her feet. Her teeth sunk between the insides of her left cheek as an effort to distract herself from the thunderstorm within her chest. A little bit more force on her teeth would've tore her up and left her bleeding from the inside.

How much longer she must be in this torment? How much suffering her heart needs to endure until it adapt to the pain? She's tired of the ache in her chest but at the same time she can't help it when her heart yearn for a love that's never going to be hers.

"Well? Is she not goddamn beautiful?" Gail playfully slapped Bucky's arm, demanding her question to be answered.

"I mean..." Bucky stuttered to find words. Especially when those round doe eyes of Y/N's spark with anticipation.

All those milliseconds of time Bucky had to think of an appropriate, truthful answer but somehow he only come up with, "...i guess, you could do better."

Idiot.

Straight up dumb.

Bucky immediately regret his words when the gleam in Y/N's eyes suddenly faded; turning into something cold and stoic.

Gail huffed in denial, before taking Y/N's side, "Then you sir, need to check your eyes because she's absolutely stunning". Y/N gave a small smile as Gail pulled her for a side hug.

"Why are you dressed up anyway?" Bucky wanted change the topic before he said something stupid again.

There was a noticeable pause on Y/N's side as he asked, as if she was unwilling to tell him. However, the reluctantcy only arouses his curiosity.

Y/N turned around and faced the mirror. As she fixed the necklace near her collarbone, she made an eye contact with Bucky through his reflection and answered, "I have a date."

Something shifted in the air; as if it was getting heavier, sturdier.

"Who's the guy?" Bucky was clearly not amused with the idea. It barely filtered through his stern tone.

"Daniel. One of the SHIELD agent I worked with before." Y/N noticed how his expression morphed into a frown.

"Why is he making that face? "

Bucky seethed, "That douchebag? Really y/n?" There's a hint of disappointment in his voice; like how a father would scold his daughter of doing something stupid.

And that ticked her off.

She's a grown-ass woman; she can do whatever she wants, date whoever she wants. None of it was Bucky's concern.

"What do you mean?" Annoyance flowed through her tone.

Bucky rolled his eyes as he recognized that name.

Daniel.

That scumbag whose always staring at her. And not in a cute, crush-like way. There's nothing innocent about the way he stare at Y/N's ass and boobs, or always finding excuses to touch her.

However, Y/N has been oblivious to it since Bucky had always been with her.

Since when did that douche got close to Y/N? How did he managed to get Y/N agree to go to a fucking date with him? More importantly, how did Bucky not know all of this?

There was this uncontrollable, unexplainable rage within Bucky that he was unable to contain; like a venomous poison it seeped through his head, "Are you that needy to even consider going out with such scum? Come on, y/n. You're being naive, it's ridiculous." Bucky scoffed as his tone laced with scorn and mockery.

Gail gasped in complete shock, "What is wrong with you, Bucky? That's not--"

"That's not fair. How can you have the luxury to fall in love and lived happily ever after while I have to continue to break and break, again and again?"

"Ridiculous? Am I a fucking joke to you, Bucky?!" Y/N could hold back her own anger as she turned towards him. His face remained the way that it is; red and furious and he was not willing to put his ego down either.

"You know what?" Y/N swerved towards the bed, "I am going to go this date with Daniel, whether you like or not..." She took her purse on the edge of the mattress, "...and I am going to enjoy every second of it!"

"Thanks, Gail. I really appreciate your help today." Y/N smiled as she briefly took Gail's hands into hers. Blinking in confusion, Gail replied, "Y-yeah.. sure--" though her speech was cut short when Y/N interrupted.

"And you!" Y/N shot a glare towards Bucky before marching towards him, "You can go fuck yourself." She clashed her shoulders into Bucky's before walking out her own room.

Bucky gritted his teeth; his jaw clenched in pure vexation as his frown grew deeper.

Looking at her very angry looking boyfriend, Gail let out a tired sigh, "Why would you say such thing to her, Bucky?

Why did he say those things?

He could explain it much better way, knowing that he had plausible reason to why he thinks she should not go to this date.

But, why did he not do that?

Why did he lash out and spat those hurtful things to her?

Even Bucky himself was not sure why.

After that Bucky spent the rest of the night at the gym, and this was the third punching bag that he had completely destroyed. He could see his girlfriend coming in from the corner of his eyes, with an emergency kit in her hand.

She sat at a nearby bench before, "Bucky sweetheart, come here." Gail softly asked him sit with her.

Despite the grunts and gruffs that slipped from his lips, he still obeyed her; though partially was because she had been sternly staring at him.

Gail gently remove his boxing glove of his right hand, then lo and behold his knuckles was crushed and bloodied.

"The wrappings is there for a reason, you know?" She knew he would this; especially when he is guided by rage. Bucky remained silent, knowing that if he did not control his anger first; then he would probably do the same thing he did to Y/N again.

There was a comfortable silence as Gail was tending his wounds. Bucky looked down at her, focusing on cleaning the wounds. She was always careful and tender while handling Bucky; as if she was taking care of a child.

"You love her, don't you?" Gail calmly asked as she started to wrap Bucky's hand.

The question caught him by surprise, "What do you mean?"

She chuckled softly, "y/n. You love her. Am I right?" she reclarify.

It didn't need a genius to figure out how Bucky truly feels about Y/N. Even if he himself if not aware of his own feelings.

But she can see right through him.

She noticed how attentive was Bucky towards y/n. How he looked at her; like she's his whole world. How every single thing he does somehow relates back to Y/N; and he cannot go by a day without mentioning her name in their any conversation. How peaceful looked when y/n is anywhere near him.

She noticed every single one of those detail.

"Of couse, I do. It's y/n we're talking about here." Bucky replied as-matter-of-factly. Though there was some truth in his answer but it was not all.

Gail shook her head lightly as she holds Bucky's wounded hand in hers, "No, Bucky. You love her." Her brows crunched into a pleading curve as her gaze turned gentle.

Bucky frowned in confusion; he looked down at his hand where her thumb caressing his knuckles and he thought back all the moments he spent with y/n.

From the very first day he met her, on those nights she stayed with him, through thick and thin, her eyes on his, her smile on his cheek, her laugh in his arms, her voice in his ears, her skin on left arm, everything flashed through him so fast until a single moment when he realizes.

"I love her."

Gail recognized the glint his eyes, "And she loves you too, Buck." She coaxed.

The frown on his face turned into a shock as she spoke. Even if Y/N does love him, what does that mean?

"What are you saying?"

"Go." Her voice were somehow calmer than she was supposed to speak in such a dire situation.

Bucky knew what she meant; he knew what those eyes were telling him, "Gail, you--"

She cut him before he could say anything, "We did agree to see where will this take us..." her smiled was somehow bitter-sweet, "And I guess this is our end of the line."

A hit of pain struck Bucky's heart, "You don't have to do this." His left hand raised to tenderly cupped her cheeks; it was warm. Unlike his winter cold hand, she was warm. Like the soft heat from the morning sun.

She placed her hand on top of his as she craved a reassuring smile, "I want to."

And that broke Bucky's heart. And it broke for her.

He loved Gail.

All the feelings he felt for her was real. As real as the feelings he felt for Y/N. The only difference was he didn't realized he was in love with Y/N, but he did with Gail.

"And to be honest, I'm not sure I can keep up with the emotional commitments, I'm always M.I.A and lost in my own head..."

As Gail starts to ramble, Bucky wasn't hearing any of it. His eyes stings and his vision blurred.

There was only so much any man can handle.

There was joy in realizing his was in love with Y/N but there was also agony in knowing he had to break Gail's heart. Unable to hold back his emotions anymore, his tears finally broke out.

She was prepared not to cry today but seeing Bucky like this; who wouldn't tear up, right?

"Hey hey hey, I'll be okay. We'll be okay." She placed her palm on Bucky's cheeks, wiping away the tears with her thumb as she lead his gaze to her own.

"Bucky, listen to me. I don't want you feeling like you're alone." she cooed, her eyes had gotten glassy as tears filled within them. "You deserve so much more than what I can offer you, do you understand?" Bucky can simply nod as he feels like his voice will betray him.

"Good." Gail closed her eyes and leaned into a kiss. A soft innocent kiss on his forehead, as their tears fall on each other's bare skin, "Now, go get your girl."

<< Part I || Part III >>

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: Feel free to leave some feedback behind! And what do you think of Gail? I thought it'd be nice to have a different characteristics for her instead of the cliche 'bitchy and rude' girlfriend.

There's no actual taglist. So, I only include those who reblogged with comments and/or commented on the previous part. However, do tell if you want or do not want to be tagged.

Taglist: @ghostofwinter @angstysebfan @erinallene @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @paarthurnax59 @nomajdetective @kentokaze @dexter99 @nana1000night @prettyinpink350

[hellonerf]

this post is going to be my depository for the caname yandere notes i wrote a while ago and im finally posting. below this line is it. if you want you can just ignore the walls of text for this image of ame as miyuki from you and me and her or read through it for my yandere caname braindead details

straightforwardly, they'd be different in approach. dumb in their own ways 🤤 loosely using yandere here okay i know the meaning has changed a lot okay(snoreee)

for a yandere cana, in context to caname. a mumbling withdrawn yandere… just a general big fan of how it can come off as shyness. well i personally love a really messy sadled-by-internal-conflict kind of yandere… i think there’d be a weird type of shame there. always has the feeling that he’s afraid to be perceived. a weird overlap… with his ame-related frustrations “he won’t even look at me… (seethe)” and “ohhhmygod he CAN’T look at me (shaking)”. like he feels in the right but feels afraid simultaneously. and he knows so much about ame but ame doesn’t reciprocate such effort? unfair…(grits teeth).

he can confidently say he knows everything about ame, and then mumble about how ame barely knows anything about him. i want to him to rage internally about that that it bubbles up (>_>) entitlement and yandereness kind of go together anyways. she’s glaring at her with such intensity and she won’t even turn around to notice… can't she at least have this... she rarely gets anything for herself... at least this... i like any case of someone being yandere for ame where they take on a kind of caretaker role. he’s so stupid he can’t do anything he doesn’t know what’s good for him etc… (happy)(happy anytime ame loses control in some way)(ties him to cana like a balloon). loveee the idea of cana hitting him or something and then doting on him right afterwards like he didn’t cause it. HOW’d you get such an INJURY…… so irresponsible 🤦‍♂️

another thing is cana is more comfortable with femininity than ame. this is factual and ame i’d imagine to be tenser about it. i don’t know what this means guys. anyways i think his feelings build up into a climax more... turned into action! whatever it is he does to ame

a yandere ame is harder for me to put into words. because i okay. i like her a lot. i think he’d be so rage jealous upset internally, but also so much so that he can’t keep it in (i don’t think his control on how much of his emotions leak out is very good, i don’t think he has a good enough lid on it) so he’ll come off very spiteful, controlling, accusatory. she’s keeping track of where you go where she can’t see you. she doesn’t believe what she can’t see. ame’s high and fragile ego i think… deep down he can be insecure and paranoid. it’s frustrating for him to feel unsure at all. especially if it contradicts what he believes he heard. and it’s an insult that someones even making him feel so unsure. she’s like stomping her foot… wants her full attention at all times… she won’t and can’t let you get away with fooling around.

in a caname nationverse… i think there’d then already be a lot of interactions ame would consider “the ultimate betrayal” lol… similar in cana that he’d want reciprocation for the attention given, but i think he’d be 10x more blatant in the rage and entitlement. it'd cause more lashing out to the perceived betrayal i think. he's stuck between wanting affection and being so mad that he's not getting it already. demanding of cana's time loyalty and reciprocation... yandere that seethes that the one they love isn't as crazy about them lol... paired with all this… complexes about doing things “right”. communicating “right”. i think ame doesn’t really have a natural intuition in communication, relying on imitating social customs while not understanding them fully. so it'd be even more upsetting to him that he's "done it right" and he still doesn't get what he wants.

and also with that i think he’d be lacking in self awareness so hard… gets into antics… thennn i think he's more explosive in this, feels a white hot jealous rage and acts based on that, but its easy to forget outside of those moments.

in these descriptions i think cana's works prior to dating... if dating ever starts at all lol i think he thinks of it less like a romance endeavor and more like a... well he's already always right next to him! its been building up for forever... for ame's i think these only really get prominent with something "established". he already demands your time but if cana like specifically promised something, or he had some epiphany, that'd cause all these wants to be much more visible. i feel like he tends to need a catalyst for some feelings to come to the forefront

the switching pronouns is cause saying all this im imagining them yandere girl-like no matter what because i have personal feud with male yandere

[room-surprise]

Hey! Fun question, how do you think an in-canon kabumisu confession would go? People keep portraying mithrun as blunt and straightforward about their relationship, but would he be scared to tell kabru in the chance that he'd say no and leave? Is the desire to just be in a relationship with kabru, or is the desire of not wanting to scare him off greater than that? I'm so starved on the lack of post-canon kabumisu content, they make me go crazy

As usual, I'll try not to go into TOO much detail because then I won't be motivated to write fic about it... and I AM planning to write a post-canon Kabumisu fic anon, so don't worry. I'll get there eventually :3

They make me go crazy too 😔

I think Mithrun's a complicated guy with complicated emotions. Even when he was "empty" in the dungeon he actually showed a lot of feelings - smug satisfaction, annoyance, anger, even a little bit of subtle happiness.

So while I DO think he will still be blunt in general, I also think it's a mistake to assume that means he doesn't feel things and won't have anxieties and insecurities just like any other person.

Mithrun used to be WILDLY insecure, and jealous, and paranoid. He just stopped caring about anything, but if, like the end of the manga suggests, he is going to try to START caring again, he will then start to have feelings, too.

I think Mithrun is intensely aware of his own "undesirability", that's one of the reasons he's BEEN so depressed. Most of his self-worth before the dungeon hinged on being "better" than his brother, and better than other people. Then he looses that (or maybe he was never actually better at all!), so what does he have left? And now his youth is gone too, he's middle-aged and lost his "best years" to depression. He's disabled, he's scarred, he's a bastard that nobody wants.

It's a pretty huge fall from "most eligible bachelor in the empire"!

So I think no, he won't just bluntly tell Kabru that he likes him. It will take Mithrun awhile to realize how he feels, and once he does, he'll be afraid to reach out, so he's going to do what I call "playing silly little elf games". He's going to try and flirt via writing letters and sending gifts, to hint that he likes Kabru.

Luckily for Mithrun, Kabru also knows how to play Silly Little Elf Games (he's an Olympic champion), so he picks up the signals and starts reciprocating, though he's also uncertain and worried that he's misunderstanding. Captain Mithrun couldn't be flirting with him, could he? But... what if he is?

(I will go into Kabru's feelings at a later date anon i promise.)

I think the thing that will ultimately push Mithrun to act is the fear that he'll miss his chance. Mithrun realizes Kabru is a limited time deal that he can only enjoy for the next 60-something years, and he wants every minute of that time for himself, no matter how much it will someday hurt to lose Kabru.

And he also knows that Kabru is very handsome and charming, and he can't expect Kabru to wait for Mithrun to get himself figured out. Someone else will swoop in and snatch that man up, so Mithrun has to hurry.

ALL OF THAT SAID... I think their confession is a lot less of a confession, and much more "we have both been picking up these signals of interest for months/years, and finally one of us pushes it a little bit further than we've ever pushed it before and we acknowledge the unspoken thing that has been growing between us."

Maybe it's a hand resting on someone's leg, or a gentle touch on the arm. Maybe it's leaning in so their shoulders touch. Maybe it's looking into each other's eyes a little bit longer than normal.

Probably it involves both of them admitting "Spending time with you makes me happier than anything else in the world. Whenever we're apart all I think about is when I'm going to see you again. I spend hours composing letters to you in my mind. I want us to spend our days together, no matter what shape that takes."

It's very vulnerable and scary for both of them, and I think they're both DEEPLY relieved after they finally get it out, and they don't get rejected. They know each other so well, and they're so good at reading people - they both thought that the other might feel the same way, but it's so scary to take that leap of faith and hope that they're right.

And just for the record, I think that Kabru worries about if Mithrun will be interested in sex or not, because sex is something that matters to Kabru, but what if Mithrun just doesn't have any desire for it?

And so before they get into a relationship Kabru has a long hard think about it, and decides that even if they never have sex, he wants to be in a romantic relationship with Mithrun anyway, because just being around him makes him feel happy, and understood, and like he isn't alone anymore. There's someone who sees him as he is, all the good and the bad, and says "I love you anyway."

And Kabru decides that he's willing to just jerk off for the rest of his life if that's the price of this relationship that he wants.

Luckily for Kabru, I think Mithrun does want to have sex with him, but I like to think that Kabru thinks through all the possibilities and decides that no matter what they end up doing together, being with Mithrun is worth it.

[kaedekolya]

awakening clarence: the inevitability of tragedy, and what it means to be human

Human or robot, cyborg or android — how is humanity defined, and where is the line that delineates it? Expanding upon my Clarence monster meta, which covered his Godheim, Eden, and modern routes, this analysis delves into how the theme of dehumanisation presents itself in Clarence’s Awakening route — and why tragedy is endlessly, inevitably, intertwined with his being.

[ SPOILERS: Clarence’s Awakening route and his Faint Night Light SSR story, as well as brief mentions of his Godheim and Eden routes. ]

“In my mind, I still consider myself human, but you are free to perceive me as you wish. I don’t mind and I won’t dispute that.” This is the faith that Awakening’s Clarence holds fast to — he thinks, therefore he is. He has a concept of his self, therefore he is human.

This can be chalked up to the impact of one’s environment; for example, Archmage Clarence was co-opted into a scheme and transformed into a mutation at a young age, causing him to grow up with no other concept of the self than the monstrous one forced upon him. In contrast, modern Clarence had solid support systems around him, allowing him to develop a reasonably well-adjusted core identity. Since the Awakening stories are not set in alternate universes, but a potential branch of the future that stems from the present-day modern world, it stands to reason that modern Clarence’s perspectives and attitudes would carry forth into his Awakening timeline.

It is this foundation that affords Clarence the fortitude to hold fast to his belief, even when MC counters it with her claims that he is not human. Then Clarence sees how grief-stricken MC’s expression is, and decides to “respect her decision, regardless of the reason,” “if she is so firmly against accepting his view.” He puts her feelings above his own, acquiescing to her opinion despite it contradicting his. Even so, he still hopes that “maybe one day [they] can reach a consensus on this matter.” Deep down, Clarence still yearns for understanding, for someone to view him the way he views himself.

Awakening’s Clarence is an interesting subversion of his usual dehumanisation trope, running counter to how he often perceives himself as a monster despite being biologically human. In Godheim, the Archmage refuses to see himself as anything other than a monster that isn’t human, even though others recognise his good intentions. In Awakening, MC initially refuses to see Clarence as anything other than an android that isn’t human, despite his protests to the contrary.

(As an aside, there are further parallels between Archmage Clarence and Awakening’s Clarence; both put on a stoic front to protect themselves from feeling further pain. Just as Archmage Clarence spent a century in utter solitude until MC returned to his side, Awakening’s Clarence waited for MC to wake him from an eternal slumber, while she wandered that same time in solitude until she found him again. Both stories end with the promise of eternity — or at least a long, long time — together.)

Clarence’s unwavering sense of self in Awakening makes me think of the Ship of Theseus — when parts of a ship are replaced, at what point is it no longer the original ship? For Clarence, his identity hinges not on his constituent parts, but his awareness of the self. Even if his body is damaged, he is still himself as long as his mind is intact. Clarence’s memories, his reasoning, his emotions, are what form his identity. It is this central focus on the mind and not the body that leads to a lack of regard for his physical wellbeing; his health and safety are secondary to his aims.

In an attempt to figure out the physical properties of his body — whether it is flesh and blood or steel and synthetics — Clarence wounds himself on purpose, cutting through the skin not covered by his mechanical skeleton. He feels the pain as blood flows out, yet the wound heals at an inhuman speed, rendering him unable to “determine if he’s an android, pain and flesh simulated by advanced technology, or a human injected with healing genes.”

Clarence’s readiness to harm himself in order to achieve a certain objective can also be seen in the Book of Tales event, when merman Clarence deliberately hurts himself in hopes of attaining the mermaid’s tear. To Clarence, the injuries sustained to his physical body are insignificant in the face of a greater goal. As long as he can preserve his sense of self, his memories, his purpose, then it is enough for him. Ultimately, Clarence views himself as a tool — as a means to an end.

Arguably, Awakening’s Clarence demonstrates many traits that could easily paint him as a monster. When a hostile drone poses a threat, he destroys it with his bare hand, bolstered by the enhanced strength of his mechanical augmentations. Combat is woven into Clarence’s being; he is innately capable of destruction, in the same way a monster is. His internal programming makes comments and observations as if it is a separate entity, creating a stark disconnect between Clarence’s consciousness and the programmed voice in his head — almost like it is a monster lurking within him.

As much as his combat may be innate, though, so are his emotions. Clarence feels an instinctual trust towards MC, even if he cannot explain or understand where these feelings originate from. After MC falls asleep, Clarence reaches out to her but stops short of touching her face, empathy guiding his actions. “Have you spent all these years like this, slumbering alone in this barren world?” Clarence asks, not recognising that he too had slumbered alone in the hibernation chamber — only recognising her pain, and not his own. He apologises to her, despite not having done anything wrong, despite also suffering through the same solitude that she has.

Upon seeing MC injured, Clarence grows solemn and sorrowful, remarking that he thinks she is “strong, [admirably] strong.” “It must be tough for you[,] living in this world alone for all those years,” Clarence muses, extending her a compassionate kindness he does not allow himself — neither in this world, nor in others. “I don’t know why I [feel the need] to apologise,” he admits. “But I somehow feel that this should have been my responsibility. I should have stayed by your side. I shouldn’t have left you alone.” Once again, Clarence takes the blame upon his own shoulders, turning the guilt inwards. Even when it is not his cross to bear, Clarence nails himself to it, offering himself as penance for wrongs he has not committed.

Clarence is so accustomed to taking responsibility upon himself that he always chooses the simplest option, even if it comes at his own expense. Or perhaps it is precisely because it comes at his own expense, and not that of others, that he is more inclined to choose it. The Archmage did not open himself up to any other methods, staunchly refusing to entertain MC’s suggestions, because he was so firmly set in his conviction to sacrifice himself for his country’s future. The Falcon was ready to shoot himself, never considering the possibility of a third option in the dilemma, because his death was the most straightforward way to help MC achieve her goal.

In much the same way, Awakening’s Clarence dies to save others. His android selves were created both to “commemorate [the pioneer’s] sacrifice,” and for the express purpose of sacrificing themselves to keep his original body away from danger. Sacrifice is woven into their beings, just as it runs through Clarence’s veins. It is this enduring selflessness that leads Clarence down the path of a martyr, time and time again.

Awakening’s movie was a warning for Clarence that opened his eyes to the suffering that his selflessness can, and will, wreak in its wake. His diligent and conscientious nature often has him shouldering the weight of responsibility, but it can also lead to him losing himself in his duty. In order to fulfil his role to the best of his ability, he overextends himself, inadvertently letting himself be consumed by what he believes he ought to be and do. Clarence yearns to save the world, to protect the people that live in it, and so he offers himself up as a tool to be used. He gives himself over to his cause, devoting all of himself to it even as the burden of it devours him whole. A selfless sacrifice that saves countless lives, but that selfishly brings pain to those who care for him.

A good tragedy is at once avoidable and inevitable; avoidable because there are other choices to be made, and inevitable because its actors will always choose the path that leads to despair. It is written into their beings, into who they are as people and what they stand for. There is no other version of this tale, no better outcome, because they are human and they will not pick the rational option. They will pick the option that calls to their heart.

At that crossroads, faced with the risk of venturing towards the power plant and the safety of remaining with his companions, Clarence chooses the former. There is no doubt that he knows he is marching to his death; still, he bears the weight of this sacrifice, in order to fulfil his duty to protect his fellow fighters. Even though there is no guarantee that he will succeed, Clarence undertakes this lonely mission in an effort to do all that he can for the world that he loves. He opts to venture alone into the jaws of danger in order to keep others out of harm’s way, minimising the damage caused to the world and its inhabitants – even if, or perhaps so that, it deals the highest damage to himself. It has always been this way, and will always be this way, for Clarence. The core of the tragedy is that Clarence will always put the world above himself, his duty above his dreams, even if it comes at the cost of everything he is and will ever be.

There’s a parallel, here, with the story of Orpheus. You, as the uninvolved spectator, can criticise him for being irrational, for turning around and losing Eurydice. Yet Orpheus, in that moment, cannot possibly make any other decision. How can you fault a man for having a heart? How can you fault a man for being human?

For all that Clarence is an android, or a cyborg, or a mutant monster, he is also deeply, painfully human. It is impossible for him to be fully rational and objective, and so he pushes himself to his limits in an attempt to be, and berates himself when he cannot. More often than not, Clarence ends up dehumanising himself – both consciously and unconsciously – in order to fulfil his roles and responsibilities. Rather than having them guide his actions, he gives himself over to them, allowing them to shape the core of who he is. Clarence pushes himself to extremes that are rational in the logic of his worldview, but ironically irrational to the external observer that witnesses the depths of his pain.

One particular line in Awakening stood out to me: “What’s important is that you shouldn’t be sad. You should be happy and free. You should be the beam of light that penetrates the thick clouds.” While this line illustrates how Clarence prioritises MC’s happiness, it also illuminates MC’s role in his story. Her presence in his life teaches him that he can seek happiness for himself, too, rather than solely living in servitude of a greater purpose. She is the light that parts the fog, the sunlight that melts the snow. While she may always be part of Clarence’s motivation to save the world and the people who live in it, perhaps she may also become his motivation to save himself, too.

Clarence is always all too ready to be a martyr, because he often believes that his most significant contribution to the world is what he can do for it. As long as his purpose is fulfilled, then it does not matter much what happens to him afterwards; there will be others to fill his shoes. Yet MC, in Awakening, directly challenges this notion. “Clarence is irreplaceable. Even with the same appearance and body, no one could ever take his place,” she asserts. There can be a second Archmage, or another Falcon, or countless clones in his likeness – but there is only one Clarence, who is precious by virtue of who he is and not what he can do. Clarence, whose worth is not defined by his roles and responsibilities, no matter how much he believes it to be so. This is the arc of his growth – learning to view and cherish himself as a person, not a mere tool to be used.

thank you for reading!♡

if you have any thoughts about this meta post, i’d love to hear them! responses are always welcome, and my ask box is open~

for more lovebrush meta: here's my brief azure island analysis + theorising! nervously anticipating clarence's route tomorrow...

[nextstop-fixationstation]

OK analysis time! Matt said that Marcy's affection towards Sasha was more surface level than Anne's, which was described as "complicated." People might assume that this means that Marcy's affection for Sasha wasn't deep, or that their relationship wasn't.

If we're being honest here they weren't presented as having depth to their relationship so much as having acts and services. They're on the level with each other and can interpret each other's needs for a plan but they are lacking somehow when it comes to each other's emotional needs. This is something Darcy touches upon when they say they might not have ever been friends at all, and might be a core conflict between Sasha and Marcy. It's also a good example of why Anne is the actual Heart of their friendship. She connects and makes their dynamic deeper. While Marcy is desperate to keep people together and hates being alone, she admits she lacks a core understanding of emotional intelligence and this is something she admires in Anne. Marcy treats herself as a tool and mostly makes friends by doing things for them and complimenting them. She's kind of the perfect POV character for a journal that gives lore specifically because she's very attentive to things like strengths and weaknesses and team synergy, but isn't necessarily attuned to emotional intelligence. She kind of blocks herself off from feeling certain things too keenly or doubting herself, and masks it using this peppy overachiever persona.

Maybe if Marcy were more emotionally self aware, she would have been even more openly hurt by how dismissive Sasha is of her interests (even though Sasha clearly does like nerdy things), or she would have noticed that her friends don't really care for RP (etc). But in the series what we see is a Marcy so afraid of being left alone that she'll hide every emotion and every hurt aside from what she thinks will make people stay - she delivers compliments, improves infrastructure, says all the right things to earn trust. She's a great twist antagonist! Admitting that her friends don't or can't reciprocate her interests or desires is important to her arc, because it serves as a lesson to her that friendship is more than just doing things together or doing things for each other. Marcy and the others aren't just tools in schemes and plans.

We hear from Anna that Sasha has difficulty knowing when to bring other people to the table, so for someone like Marcy who thinks that she needs to earn everything through acts/upgrades, it makes sense that their relationship remained very surface level. Neither of them pushes the other to see things differently, while Anne does. Anne can acknowledge where people hurt and hurt her, and can acknowledge that this doesn't mean they aren't friends or significant to each other. Anne notes the complexity! It's why she's so compelling.

So, Marcy acknowledging how hurt she is that her friends don't want to do what she wants is significant because she also says, "I believe in you." Love goes beyond the stuff we do for each other. There's a bit of faith, too. What she did isn't right either. Being hurt isn't an excuse.

Darcy isn't just "evil Marcy," the Core is also every temptation for Marcy. Escapism, distraction, perfect friends who go on quests with her whenever she wants. There's a darkness to this kind of insecure attachment that Darcy reveals. Fear of inadequacy and irrelevance. Fear of loss. Fear of change. Fear of what is deeper than skin deep. Maybe my friends will forget me if I move. Maybe I'm just their nerd, just like Sasha's just cool. So their relationship isn't surface level to us, because this nuance is communicated to us through the subtleties of the show's execution. It's a really well acted, well boarded, well written show with fantastic music! It's really amazing!

Sasharcy IS very complicated! But it's complicated because they never dig deeper with each other until it's too late. It's also why it's significant that Sasha is the one to ask, "Can we save this friendship?"

Why is friendship with Marcy so easy? Is it because they got along and there's mutuality here, or is it because they didn't let themselves get any deeper than what was easy? It's so easy for them to just be the controller and the executor.

Forgiveness is hard. Forgiveness takes time. It takes a lot of thought, discussion, and work. Friendship in the long term, deep enough to mean something and hurt when it's gone, is similar. It's not just sentimentality and acts of appeasement.

aaaaand that's what i think matt meant when he was like "marcy's affection for sasha was kind of surface level"! I will admit I was like noooo Matt noooo don't say it was surface level whyyyy but like i had time to think abt it so i'm fine now lol lmk ur thoughts💙

smth i didn't add to my original tweet thread is that i DO find it interesting that marcy appears to specifically empathize with the experience of lonely people who grow up a certain way or doing things a certain way to protect themselves from loneliness. she seems to have an intuitive understanding of people fitting into groups via niches, but is drawn to people who already seem like outcasts as opposed to being able to identify it when someone is surrounded by people they seem to easily connect with. Marcy has this fundamentally insecure and lonely viewpoint that makes her very interesting to read and analyze, and I suspect it also contributes to her popularity. I mean, clearly *I* love her

[coelacanth-designs]

Timeline/ Layout of AU

Aight so I felt like it was a good idea to layout the basic concept of my personal AU! The basis of it is a kind of "what if" scenario mixed with my own experiences of trial and error of the self. What if the Mind and Heart weren't the ones causing dissonance between each other and the Whole. What if it was the Souls lack of self understanding and awareness that threw the Whole into its state of undoing and unraveling.

It would start with the dissonance and instead of Soul introducing themselves (as they are unable to) we would find ourselves seeing a freshly formed Heart and Mind. Neither of them knows how to speak to the other but understands that they have each other and that one is as important as the other. This is where I also pull in the idea that neither has a further understanding like in the original canon that only one is right, or in another term. Neither has been pushed to the point of that belief. I also like the idea that it's almost like there's an invisible wall between them which can represent my issues with my Heart and Mind almost feeling alienated from each other and the outside world giving an intensely isolating experience.

Once they're able to talk to each other, they do have arguments and spats, but they try and lead the Whole while doing their best to observe and take in the world.

Eventually they find Soul, wrapped up in layers upon layers of false ideas of themselves that they cut and pasted onto their own image to try and make up for what themselves and the Whole severely lacks. A sense of self and belonging when it comes to a person.

Heart and Mind would then have to try and understand who this was while also trying to approach what that means for the three of them. (in between this and the next part is when my version of the Juno incident happened. Where Soul impulsively lashes out against Heart and Mind, blaming their grievances on the two of them. Avoidance is their problem and they're too blind to see it.)

The next big milestone would be Soul understanding that the Whole can't run if only 2/3 parts are working towards growth, and with Mind and Hearts help, they start to peel back the layers, and attempt to break out of their shell.

Eventually they all get to a realization. "it doesn't matter what others want us(me) to be, if they don't like me for me then I don't need their acceptance." From there Soul is now starting to take the reigns and while hesitantly, Mind and Heart are their at their side trying to help lead with them. Eventually getting into a rhythm where the three have realized that being a Whole is easiest when the three can talk to each other face to face to take on the issues together.

It wouldn't end on the note of pessimism with the future, but just that the future is full of twists and turns and that they can figure it out!

Also Peewee is there throughout. Peewee is a vital reference for Mind and Heart (and eventually Soul) from start to finish about the Wholes physical health. Anywho! I want to work on as well showing the different stages that the mind went through? As this kind of co-aligns with the story idea I had that involves stepping through your mind into anothers, how their habits, emotions, and even trauma can show up in their minds.

If you made it to the end I appreciate it! Lmao I'm just genuinelly happy I can finally ramble about my ideas and if people like them, cool! But now the idea is situated and documented :3

(doodle with not okay Heart and a comforting Mind as a treat for making it to the end lol)

[psychewritesbs]

Chapter 236: Go South—JJK is generational

Gosh. Can we pleeeease just like... have a moment of silence for the one and only...THE Man, Gojo Satoru.

Ok, time's up.

Moving on.

Word vomit under the cut.

The process of reading this chapter was a very interesting one this week because the fandom got really noisy as soon as the leaks dropped.

Between allegations of bad writing and the utter sense of grief Gojo fans were expressing, it was quite the 💩 storm.

And then the actual scanlations started dropping, and little by little they replaced most of the noise with the utter sense of calm and peace and satisfaction that Gojo felt in his last moments in this plane of existence.

I gotta say that I just absolutely loved how Gege depicted those emotions (outside of Gojo's "dream") through shots of the devastated Shinjuku district.

The remnants of the battle of The Strongest, as if the landscape and the buildings themselves represented the end of an era, the devastation of the structure of Jujutsu society itself.

After all, as The Strongest sorcerer in the modern era, Gojo represented the very system he was trying to destroy.

Gege loves his irony.

Now, I would normally say that the words in the speech bubbles are superfluous because Gege creates such a beautiful atmosphere through the setting alone. But it is the words themselves that re-contextualize not just the battle, but also shed more light on Sukuna's interest in Megumi, which I feel we haven't seen the extent of what he had in mind.

Now I'm hoping this isn't a dream

Listen, I must admit I've never cared for Gojo.

I don't hate him, I don't love him, I simply never really cared for him.

That, of course, changed with this chapter.

And it is perhaps Gojo's death that really solidified in my mind the idea that one of the underlying themes in jjk is... dun dun dun... DEATH.

Yeah, I know. Sue me, I'm late to the party lmao.

But it's not just death itself that is a theme, but rather the face we put on when death comes knocking at the door.

There aren't many things that we can be certain of in this life, but death is one of them. So how we confront death and our mortality shapes the sense of self.

I know a lot of people were dissatisfied with the transition from 235 to 236 and Gege not showing how/when Gojo got slashed in half, but I find the abrupt transition makes sense, and I even dare say was... quite poetic.

For one, now knowing that Gojo knew Sukuna was holding back, a lot of incidents throughout the battle are given new meaning. Like that look of confidence on Gojo's face as he "thinks" he's finally managed to "get through" to Sukuna.

So I have to say that I loved that Gege starts the chapter with Gojo becoming aware that he has died or is dying.

In other words, Sukuna's attack was so sudden that Gojo's next moment of awareness as "Gojo Satoru" is in what we would normally think of as "the light at the end of the tunnel" where he is greeted by people who were of significance to him in his youth.

And can we please just talk about how Geto is the first person he sees when he becomes aware that he is dying?

Please. This is fucking poetry!

Insert keyboard smash.

Screaming in jjk.

Go South

I literally lack the words to explain why I love this whole chapter so much. Which is a lot to say because I am about to word vomit about it. But like...

Again, hindsight is 20/20.

I always thought of the panel above as Geto being jealous of Gojo surpassing him in strength but, in retrospect, I think Geto's disappointment had more to do with Gojo's sense of self over-identifying with the title "the strongest" and how that made him harder to relate to, which is one of the main themes in this chapter. I'll come back to this in a sec.

But first...

Quick depth psych segway. I think I've said this before, but it bears repeating again that an overwhelming sense of self is all ego. There's nothing wrong with ego per se.

The problem is that an over-identification with ego means inherent separateness because, as an organ of the psyche, the ego sense of self is what gives us a separate identity from the collective.

On the other hand, soul/heart (another organ in the psyche) is the principle of relatedness--love, the single energy that can bring us all together as a collective.

But as we already know, the stronger the sorcerer, the more overwhelming the sense of self.

Unfortunately, because an overwhelming sense of self = separateness, this also means the person in question can't relate to others.

And is this not thematically perfect for a sorcerer whose perfected cursed technique was meant to render others unable to "reach him"?

In other words, Gojo saw himself as separate (because he was "The Strongest") and that made it harder for him to relate to others, but only because he self-identified as "The Strongest".

Infinity ∞, in this sense, is also about the self-fulfilling prophecy Gojo was stuck playing out in his life in regards to seeing himself as "The Strongest".

But like a serpent eating its own tail, Gojo came back full circle, and in the moments before his death, learned that what really mattered to him was not strength for the sake of strength, but rather the connections he had fostered with others.

PLEASE. GEGE. WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCKING FUCK?!!!!!!!!!!!

To bring it back to "Satoru became 'The Strongest'"...

I just loved so much that seeing Geto as soon as he becomes aware he's died felt like an encounter that meant Gojo had returned to the person he was before he self-identified as "The Strongest".

But more importantly, Gojo's imagination of himself as back when he was young also speaks both to how much he cherished that period of his life, and to how he was emotionally frozen in time due to his encounter with Toji.

It makes me wonder whether Gojo was afraid of dying alone when Toji almost killed him. So it's almost like what he took away from that battle was that he was always alone, and so he sought to push others away.

The kicker is that he simultaneously feared his existential isolation and yet craved the very source of his fear--human relations.

But in choosing self-preservation, he was a selfish to the very end.

What an idiot (tragically affectionate).

Anyways. How much of this is hc? Someone tell me please 😂. I feel like I went off the deep end in the last few paragraphs.

Like everyone else in this fandom I've lost all objectivity when it comes to Gojo because his departure from the story was truly one of the most heartbreaking moments in jjk.

I understand people's complaints about the "execution," but I think the world-wide phenomena that Gojo's death has spurred speaks to Gege's ability to elicit deeply archetypal emotional responses as a story teller.

With Gojo's death, a part of our own psyche too has died. And what's most significant about this death is that it was, true to Gojo's character, "something that needed to die because it represented the very thing it sought to destroy."

And this would be why I love Gege's writing.

A fitting way for Gojo to go out

I know not everyone agrees, but I really appreciated that he was satisfied and at peace in the very end.

He got his cake (battle to death with Sukuna) and got to eat it too (reconnected with his loved ones).

Sukuna

But we can't talk about Gojo without talking about Sukuna as the one who liberated Gojo from the burden of his existential isolation.

Sukuna gave Gojo a fun battle, but if it weren't because Sukuna figured out how to cut through Gojo's metaphorical defenses by learning to cut through space-time itself--the very fabric of reality, Gojo might not have found his humanity once again.

The outcome of this battle spells out in no uncertain terms how dire the situation is as Sukuna has proven himself to be the uncontested "Strongest".

But in a sense, the end is a new beginning, and this time, there is no light at the end of the tunnel.

JJK is generational

I get the feeling that everyone will remember where they were when this panel dropped.

I was in bed. It was 6 am and Tasokare, my miniature panther, was demanding attention.

A moot was on the way to the gym. They never made it out of the house after seeing the panel.

Another moot was completely avoiding Twitter to avoid leaks, but her brother, who does not even read jjk, saw the panel on Facebook and showed it to her.

Yet another moot was on vacation at the beach.

JJK is generational like that and there's just so much more I can say about this chapter and its implications (like the idea that Sukuna can now cut through space-time, why?! what does he want to get out of this ability?), but I just don't even know what more I can say right now.

Anyways, thanks for reading. I'm looking forward to any thoughts you might have. Just a heads up, I'm very, very slow at replying.

[aurekiwi]

Hello kiwi ! Can you do fs reading on jk ?

Thnk you 😇🙏

𝐣𝐞𝐨𝐧 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐟𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

welcome to another reading by your favorite intuitive reader, kiwi! i was quite hesitant about this reading because of how tense bts tarot feels, but i realized that i'll have requests about jungkook and bts regardless in the future and thought i might as well try it out.

𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐤𝐢𝐰𝐢 | masterpost | support kiwi

before you read: please remember that i'm only one tarot reader. this reading was done with the best of my abilities and intentions, and i most definitely do not want to cause problems for jungkook, the future spouse, or any of you.

to start off, i asked my tarot deck Yume for a figure card that represents jungkook's future spouse. i received Balance, and the back of the deck was Harpy Eagle.

Balance: Balance sits outside of this duality. They follow their vibration, their own story. They can often be positive, revealing the good that sits inside us all. They can also be gloomy as they give in to the dark emotions that lie feral, waiting to attack. Balance sits somewhere in between. They know what it is like to carry both sides. Balance blends the best and the worst presenting us all a new opportunity to experience the whole of creation.

jungkook's future spouse is an open-minded individual who is emotionally intelligent, striving for balance within their every day life. they are aware of the fact that life has both its positives and negatives, and they must learn to adapt to them and find the greatness within each new experience. jungkook's future spouse is one who does not let their troubles stop them from moving forward towards what they truly love. others may perceive that they are ever-changing and mysterious- they have learned to maintain a neutral perspective and stance no matter the situation. i am sensing that jungkook's future spouse may be spiritual or religious due to the card's imagery of a woman whose hands are in the shape of yin and yang, with the universe making up her body. they are very wise and caring, feeling driven to help provide their sense of balance to others, whatever form that may be.

Harpy Eagle: The Harpy Eagle comes to you via visions in your sleep time and your waking days. When it appears, heed the message and take a good look at what is out of balance in your life. Take stock of your life. Are you where you want to be emotionally, physically, and financially? Now is the time to envision where you want to be and who you want in your life.

jungkook's future spouse seems to put a lot of focus on the idea of "balance," as it is mentioned by this card as well. they are very reflective of their circumstances in their day-to-day life and strive to improve by thinking about what they insight they may be lacking. this card also seems to clarify that jungkook's future spouse is a spiritual or religious person who has spiritual dreams that guide them in times of need. jungkook's future spouse desires to take control over their life, giving me a feeling that they may struggle with issues of control, power dynamics, addiction(s), and unhealthy habits. they may be a logical person and very hard on themselves, often moving through a hard situation without complaints by focusing on this idea of "balance" and "self-improvement." they are a future-oriented thinker, and they are excited to see how their current actions towards change will impact their future. in terms of their views on love, my understanding is that the future spouse wants deep and committed love but is currently unavailable to it due to past hurts and their dreams and career aspirations.

next, i asked my tarot deck Snow White for some cards that would help us learn about jungkook's future spouse. i received: temperance, two of pentacles, the tower, three of wands, and the star.

jungkook's future spouse is a very balanced and fair individual. as mentioned above, they may have had unhealthy habits and tendencies in the past, or they may have been exposed to an unhealthy power dynamic that has resulted in them focusing heavily on their idea of "balance." they try to stray away from substance abuse and other unhealthy habits/decisions by pursuing the temperance energy. in general, they are a very busy person. i see them being very quick with their decisions. the ace of swords card to me within this context, makes me think that jungkook's future spouse is often someone who gets into their head and likes to think and reflect about a lot of different things. once they make a decision, i see them being very fast about chasing after their goals and making their decision become their reality as quick as possible. that makes them pretty pre-occupied, however, they work very hard to make sure to spend time with their friends and loved ones. they may keep a small circle of close friends and have them as their support system, and they are the type of person who would be truly happy for your accomplishments and successes rather than being jealous. they have a lot of love for those that matter a lot to them and make sure to show that those they love, are loved.

the tower tells me that they have had quite a turbulent life which explains the unhealthy dynamics and habits that i sensed in a previous portion of the reading. i asked for some clarification, and i received the three of swords and the empress, which makes me think that their love and support has oftentimes been taken for granted and unappreciated. they may have found that they are usually the nurturing, caring, and understanding mother figure in many people's lives. with friends, that would mean the "mom friend" or "the therapist friend" who is always there to listen to your worries. i'm also sensing that within a family setting, it would be the person who is holding the family together, the bandange, or the mediator who has to step in whenever there is conflict. their life has been full of being broken down to the ground and constant rebuilding, each time an improved version of themself. this is actually quite admirable of them, and this signifies to me that regardless of their actual age, they are a very wise and mature person. plus, jungkook's future spouse seems to embody the empress energy, so they may attract a lot of people in general or people may really like them for those qualities as well.

the three of wands signifies a visionary, also higher studies/education and traveling. they may travel to different countries/land either to pursue higher studies or they may just like traveling or have family members scattered in different parts of the world. i'm also sensing that they may come from a diverse background, as in they may be living in a country that is not their culture's or their home country, motherland, or mother tongue. intuitively, they seem surrounded by wand or fire energy, so a city/state/province/country that has quite strong masculine/patriarchal energy. it can also mean that the place they are from is generally dry/warm/hot. they are obviously a very intelligent individual, so higher education also seems quite possible. this means that they are not "too" young as some may wish- they are probably at a minimum in college, or are in professional/graduate school or working. they are a very respectable person, and after interacting with their energy, it makes me understand why so many people are already so interested in them.

lastly, the back of the deck was the star. the star card comes after the tower in the major arcana- it represents a sense of hope, enlightenment, and happiness after a storm has passed. jungkook's future spouse seems to have a positive mindset about their struggles. people around them may perceive as someone who learns to see the good in any situation and appreciate the good of their current circumstances, even if it may be horrible for them. they are humble and are very patient. they choose to believe that the chaos and disaster breed blessings and good fortune (wheel of fortune) within their life. they always learn to be grateful and resilient. they shine bright like a star as well, and i suddenly see jungkook's eye and how they turn wide at the sight of his future spouse. they seem to have this glow around them... a beautiful, mysterious, alluring aura that makes them so attractive in his eyes. the imagery of the star card also makes me think that they have a very feminine energy, and they are an empath and a healer. there is lots of water which i interpret as intuition, emotions, and creativity, which are qualities that they may have that sets them aside from others. their career or area of study may be related to the star card's qualities.

[techramonic]

Descent to Death and Destruction: A comprehensive analysis of “Zero-day”

Disclaimer: This post is not meant to glorify or romanticize the film and the event it is based on. My heart goes out to all affected by these types of events, thank you.

“I am become death, destroyer of worlds.” a phrase originating from a portion of Lord Krishna’s dialogue from the Bhagavad Gita. With an archaic English structure, formed using the auxiliary verb “am” instead of “have”, forming a poetic expression that transcends grammatical correctness.

Saying “I am Death” emphasizes embodying death itself, a state of destruction, but it negates the process of becoming. Conversely, “I have become Death” focuses on the process of becoming but nullifies the state of already being. However, by saying “I am become Death,” you actively encapsulate both the process of undergoing and the current state of becoming. This means you have undergone and become one with creation and annihilation.

This concept can be applied to analyze the characters of “Zero Day,” the fictionalized troubled teenagers Andre Kriegman and Calvin Gabriel, who meticulously plan a school massacre. Throughout the film, each character undergoes a transformation fueled by hatred.

Firstly, Andre exemplifies the process of becoming and the active presence of becoming itself. Plagued with suppressed temperamental issues, Andre undergoes a plethora of emotions like any teenager has over the world and the uncontrollable circumstances that affect him. Yet two remain most prominent — anger and hate.

His meticulous planning creates a new layer of detachment, an approach that sees purpose in destruction due to the inherent lack of purpose other than vengeance. With constant efforts to alienate himself because he has already actively experienced it his whole life, Andre’s sense of identity develops from being victimized into being the perpetrator, a role distinct as a mere harbinger of death. Andre sees this as the foremost desirable identity, the immortalization of oneself as a destroyer. From the constant detachment from the world because of the understanding that no one has the capability to understand him, even if he does not understand himself, he undergoes the metamorphosis of becoming destruction itself. When he does finally become it, he has achieved a sense of purpose.

In contrast, we observe the opposite with Cal, where he does not focus on the process of becoming death but rather being death itself. There is complacency in trusting Andre’s plan with an underlying ideology of fulfilling his purpose, death. Death that is all-encompassing, both for those around him and himself — where this destruction not only consumes others but ultimately himself. Unlike Andre’s active pursuit of purpose, Cal is well aware of the fact that he does not have one, and with that, he accepts what Andre has to offer, believing it will give him one. As the film progresses, he embraces the role of the destroyer, indicating a loss of his former self and the complete adoption of his new, destructive identity. In following Andre, he unconsciously gains the purpose of a destroyer, however, it is still void for him to ever have one, hence why he killed himself after the event. Ultimately, this portrays his loss of sense of self in trying to find a sense of self.

In the context of Andre and Calvin, they do not simply perform an act of destruction; they become embodiments of destruction itself. This transformation is not a fleeting moment but an irreversible process leading to the massacre. The parallels between the phrase and their characters suggest their disconnection from normalcy and humanity. Andre and Cal are now unrecognizable, stripped of the humanity and identity they ever had; they are now “Death,” signifying a complete and terrifying metamorphosis.

This movie exemplifies the psychological impacts and effects of being mentally disturbed and unable to be helped. Where people experience a trauma so deeply nestled within them that it hinders them from recognizing the idea of getting better and moving on. They remain in perpetual limbo, filled with self-deprecation and hatred of others. Though the traumas they have faced are not easy to cope with, the denial of change and empathy intensifies the destruction felt by their torment and ultimately allows it to consume them whole.

They are now met with the very destruction they are affected by and consumed by it whole. Now having simultaneously become death and are death at this very point on.

They are become death.

[mageknight14]

I made a whole Twitter thread about this a few months back but I figured that I might as well bring it here as well.

Today I want to take some time to make another NEO TWEWY analysis post on the Identity Crisis sidequest revolving around Eiru and how it actually provides extra insight into Nagi and Fret’s characters.

Basically, the main gist of the sidequest is that Nagi and Fret are debating on how to imprint confidence onto Eiru, who’s suffering with his physical insecurities, and this is where we see the differences with Nagi and Fret's philosophies on life.

Fret's response is to tell Eiru to ignore the haters and even more so, ignore confronting the insecurities; life is better when you don't have to concern yourself with anything or try; don't take anything seriously. Nagi, however, believes that insecurities should be understood and harnessed so that they can ultimately be turned into a strength that can be used as a tool for success; accept your weaknesses and come to terms with them so that you can weaponize your strengths better.

On a surface level, these might read to be the same thing. Fret’s advice can be read positively as "don't let others judge you for something you can't control" and Fret certainly thinks so, hence why he thinks that he and Nagi are on the same page even though she disagrees.

However, when you read between the lines and think about it some more, there are notable implications that Fret's advice is more of a dismissive approach to dealing with emotional struggles as opposed to Nagi's own methodology. It’s no coincidence that Fret used to be a fan of the Eiji "the Prince" Oji in his ennui/apathy phase. The Prince in the original TWEWY was beloved for his “don’t give a damn attitude” and how he expressed that both in person and in his blog “F Everything.” Fret claims to have grown out of it but with certain reveals about his character later on, there are some implications that Fret latched onto the Prince and aspired to his attitude due to his own struggles with feeling genuine and wanting to embracing apathy instead.

However, if you recall in the original game, Neku and Joshua came around and helped the Prince sort out his own issues and in the process, helped him to become more genuine and true to himself in the process. With all of this in mind, you can interpret Fret’s response as him seeing the process of the Prince’s reconciliation with his genuine emotions happening in front of him and didn’t want to confront the possibility of that happening to him as well so he "grows out of it." It also acts as a neat parallel to Neku and his own thing with CAT. Whereas Neku latched onto his misinterpretation of CAT’s words in order to cope with his trauma, Fret turned away from the Prince changing so that he wouldn’t have to deal with his own trauma just yet.

To get back to the quest, if player had decided to choose Fret's philosophy, Eiru ends up doing just that, spinning Fret's stance on the situation into self-motivating positivity. However, there's a element of emotional responsibility lacking in Fret's way of processing struggles in that he doesn't seem to have the awareness to recognize the difference between overcoming adversity and just ignoring it (or maybe he does but refuses to confront that truth). In order for someone to truly not care what other people think, they need to do what Nagi suggested first, which is to find acceptance with their insecurities and build a stronger foundation for their character through that acceptance.

If the player chose Fret's approach to solving Eiru's issue, his dialogue afterwards shows how he feels about not having to face issues head on, with Nagi lamenting that her approach was not used despite being glad that Eiru's mood was visibily improved.

I also really like this moment here for how it subtly foreshadows what caused Fret’s attitude and way of thinking to happen in the first place.

Stuff like this is why I always tend to roll my eyes whenever I hear the claim that "Nagi is mean to Fret for no reason" when moments like these show why she acts the way she does towards him: their philosophies on life are complete polar opposites.

In Nagi’s eyes, Fret acting the way he did screamed to her that he seemingly had no regard for how his attitude and actions towards others made other people feel in service of his own self-interest and she fundamentally cannot get along with other people of that nature, as shown with how she dismisses Motoi entirely off the bat when the crew first meets him because she could tell that there was something off about his attitude. However, once it was revealed that Fret’s attitude was due to him trying to unhealthily cope with his trauma and not because he was seemingly unconcerned for the feelings of others, she’s far more understandable towards him and empathizes with his grief.

That’s when Nagi learns to understand that she does not need to dismiss people right away and that they, like Fret, might be going through struggles of their own and trying to cope with it via other means, even if she doesn’t agree with it at first. Hence the friendship they start up at the end of the convo.

The characters in NEO have a lot of internal flaws they need to work through, some that might not be immediate obvious at first compared to the original, but when you look back at it all, the game goes through a lot of painstaking detail to flesh out their struggles and mindset and aspects like these is what makes the game a joy for me to replay whenever I go back to it.

[midhevn]

Okay so this is going to be really long because I am surrounded by so many people with their luminaries in my 8h, and that means i should have a pretty good understanding of it by now (right?) lol so buckle in…We're digging into 8h moon synastry.

The 8th house represents feelings and resources shared or gained through others, so it can be a very projective house, especially when the moon is involved as the moon reflects. With the 2nd house you are your own individual. You have your own needs, you accumulate your own personal wealth and resources, and you have morals and values that pertain to your own personal experiences and views on life. With its opposing house being the 8th, now you have to consider what other people's needs, resources, and values are on top of your own. There's mutuality in this house which is why I don't believe in the who feels what more bs. Both people play a part in the relationship and are as equally as involved.

Moon person’s emotions heavily impact the house person; they’re incredibly reactive to the moon person’s energy; like a knee jolt. If the moon person is affected by something, the house person is as well, and vice versa. The house person’s response to the moon person’s feelings is what will impact the moon person. Both people pull vulnerability out of each other. Usually its the moon person first, and then the house person reciprocates. The moon person senses that the house person has depth and dimensions to them, or that there's more to them than what they express on the surface which makes it comfortable for them to express their more emotional and vulnerable sides. Moon person can draw a lot of deep repressed emotions out of the house person as well. The moon is a luminary, it illuminates.

The best thing this connection can do when someone's moon is in the other's 8h is to strengthen their emotional bond and communication. If the moon person is doing all the emotional labor in this connection, they can feel closed off by the house person which makes them retract back into themselves. If the house person is highly guarded or lacks standard self awareness of what their insecurities, fears, what holds them back are, they can feel "exposed" or "naked" when the moon person is around them because the moon person can naturally sense the house person’s vulnerabilities.

The 8th house is very complex and depending on who you speak to, its themes may vary. I consider this house to be a very private house, especially if the natal 8th ruler goes into its own house, the 4th, or the 12th. It's the things about ourselves we don't really want other people seeing, or that we feel ashamed, or embarrassed of. We simply choose to shove away the things that are brought out in the 8h, until we simply can't anymore, which usually happens when someone significant enters our lives. It is the house person's choice to keep hiding parts of themselves keeping up a façade, to abandon a connection all together because of how difficult it is, or to persist anyways and allow someone in despite their fears, denials, insecurities, and doubts they have about themselves. This connection can make the 8th house person question their morality big time.

The sign of the 8h can represent the energy that one experiences a lot, but chooses to keep hidden from others, or feels like that part of themselves is repressed. The 8th house naturally quincunxes the 1st which is the self. There's a barrier between the energy of both signs involved causing its flow to be somewhat offbeat or irregular. When someone activates our 8h and we're not ready for something that is deep and real, the house person will do everything to keep what they perceive to be their "mess" under the wraps, but the thing is they really can't. The moon person is standing in the middle of it all. This is where the 8th greets the 1st causing the house person to become aware of these self limitations that were established in order to transform them (if they choose to). The planet person naturally expresses the energy of that sign that you deeply struggle with expressing and is here to show you that its not all that bad.

Now, the outcome of the relationship depends on multiple factors: the sign of the house and moon, rulerships, and what aspects a person’s moon has, and what aspects the moon is making to to the house person's planets, bc if their moon is conjunct uranus or saturn for example, it’s gonna manifest completely different from someone whos moon is conjunct jupiter or venus, or even from someone who has little to no moon aspects. Finding out what house is moon ruled in the moon person’s chart will greatly clarify the energy that person is bringing into your 8h. Example, my best friend has a 2h moon conjunct uranus. Their 7h is moon ruled. They’re bringing 2h and 7h topics into my 8th. They are very generous and supportive towards me, (and somewhat possessive which often happens with 8h moon synastry), and I don't feel deserving of it at times, but this is the point! It's going to bring out insecurities, vulnerabilities, and fears in order to get you to change your perspective or transform yourself in some way.

The first time I was aware of someone’s moon being in my 8th was someone I felt completely tethered to, but that’s what it does. It makes both people feel almost like there’s an obligation to be in each other's lives, and to stick it through the ugly and bad IF they're mature enough and willing to put in effort (at the time of the relationship, I was definitely not ready). Everyone whos had their moon in my 8th, I've wanted to protect, and I feel like everyone who's moon has been in my 8h have been very protective of me.

The 8th house person will immediately feel attraction to the moon person, and later down that line, the attraction will either intensify over time, or fester depending on how well the person handles their own 8th house energy. This relationship is not going to be easy whatsoever. Being around the moon person can easily be very triggering to the house person which can make them run for the hills if they become overwhelmed by the moon person's probing energy (i'm guilty of this), and the moon person can become discontent towards the house person for how they handle the themes of the 8h.

Both the moon and house person can be at risk of becoming overly obsessive, codependent, controlling, or just plain outright unhealthy about the dynamic. There's a huge fear of losing each other, but the tighter they hold onto each other, the more difficult the relationship becomes. You want to be in each other's presence 24/7 because of how seen you both feel in the connection and how good it feels, until you don't. You entered the relationship as 2 separate individuals, and you must try to keep it that way, respect each other's autonomy, and learn to have common ground.

A reoccurring thing I've observed with this configuration that has rang true to me is that the moon person tries really hard to be seen by the house person. Both people do, but the house person is more subtle about it. They want acknowledgement, or want to get a reaction/response out of the other. Both people may or may not be aware of this and could intentionally/unintentionally ignore the other's gestures, which creates a sense of despondency, especially on the moon person's end. The moon needs reciprocation from the house person in order to feel secure.

This has the potential to pull out the most displeasing human qualities in one another, depending on multiple factors: where both people are on their own personal journey, how they navigate their emotional body, how well they handle the intensity of the connection, the aspects involved, and whether or not the 8h person natally has planets in this house. There can be manipulations, power-plays, coercion, and other boundary crossing dynamics that can easily wound and scorch both individuals. The moon is possessive of the house person’s energy, whereas the house person is possessive of the literal person. This relationship can go from being all consuming lovers where you can’t imagine living without the other, to completely loathing each other in a drop of a hat in worst case scenarios.

Let me know if any of this rang true to you!

[thelastunicornflipouts]

Even if plot-wise - and logically speaking - the transformation was the only viable option for the group to move forward into the story, it still is an incredibly anguishing moment for the unicorn/Amalthea. She is understandably dreading her new form and her now impending mortality, which she feels and fears. Schmendrick however acts weirdly dismissive, defensive, almost annoyed when Molly and Amalthea express their horror at what he has done. He is boasting about having done true magic, while stating at the same time that he had no control over it. In the book, he tries to offer Amalthea his point of view as a mortal turned immortal, as if he is trying to condone what he has done masking it as a sort of favour.

Upon my first reading, it flew over my head. Book-Schmendrick is more mean-spirited than his movie counterpart (justifyably so, since keeping the same personality for movie-Schmendrick without book-Schmendrick's backstory would have made him an unapologetic jerk) but his reactions and his excuses did sound a bit off. Further readings and reflecting between the lines made me think that Schmendrick (at least book-Schmendrick) is essentially trying to normalize trauma.

He has done to the unicorn - in reverse - what Nikos has done to him. Schmendrick was a mortal man who had been turned immortal. The unicorn has previously expressed her contempt to the story of Nikos turning another unicorn into a mortal man, stating that he might as well have trapped the creature into a burning building. Still, what Nikos did to Schmendrick, as well-meaning it could have been, was no better at all. Aside from being an incompetent immortal, trying and failing endlessly, Schmendrick has zero chances for connections and relationships. If he is doomed to stay immortal, he is doomed to be alone, to see people around him grow old and die while he remains a bumbling young man forever. Just as the unicorn is not supposed to be mortal, Schmendrick was not supposed to be immortal.

When he tells Amalthea his story, he is curt and to the point, telling Nikos' speech word for word. His dry way of talking contrast with the visceral response of Amalthea. From "Schmendrick Alone", the novellette about Schmendrick leaving Nikos to begin his solo journey, the reader learns that Schmendrick seems to not be right away aware of his curse. Unlike the unicorn, his must have been a slow, painful realization and hell knows what he must have felt when he has fully understood its implications.

After his self-congratulatory speech, Schmendrick shows signs that he, on an emotional level, has grasped how much he has fucked up. Still he refuses to admit so. Acknowledging it entails acknowledging how Nikos has fucked up, how his master has screwed his life under the pretension of giving Schmendrick the possibility to come into his full power. That is not feasible for Schmendrick, so he comes up with excuses, justifying his act with good intentions. Most interestingly, he shifts responsibility on magic itself, claiming he has not control over it. I don't know how magic exactly works in TLU universe, but it seems to have ties with the subconscious of those who employ it. Schmendrick had no control when Nikos cursed him, now he is in control by lacking control. Sounds weird? Then why, of every creature possible - and Schmendrick himself quips about it in the book - was the unicorn turned into a mortal woman?

Schmendrick's arc in the story does not end when he comes into his full power, but when he acknowledges what he has done to the unicorn, expressing his regret and taking full accountability. Schmendrick's apology to the unicorn is the moment were the trauma-cycle is broken. He has come to terms with his own traumatic event, has accepted it, and is aware that he cannot do anything about it. He - and the unicorn - can only move forward; they are now again what they were meant to be, with additional awareness and knowledge.