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#inner monologue should probably remain inner I know
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I wonder what that feeling is that you get when you had an idea, an idea for writing, I mean. More than an idea, a project.
A good one, that somehow involves you and what you found touching all of your life, and which calls so much inspiration to your writer hand, and that you know could work.
You have the whole story in front of your eyes like a film: you know how it begins, how it will unfold and how it ends. And you even know why it should be written. But you can’t sit down and write it.
Because your life simply doesn’t allow for it.
It’s probably useless to explain… However: breadwinner woman, always on the forefront, meaningless work hours and meaningful duties which dog you into your day, until there’s nothing left of you as a person, let alone as a writer.
But a thought still bugs you: about writers who wrote anyway, although being very poor, and troubled in many ways. Writers who put writing first, and made themselves scarce with family, no matter what. Writers who were writers, fullstop.
So you go: A-ha…. That’s it. If YOU were a writer, then you would write. You would put writing first.
But you’re an ant, or better, a cog, let’s not discuss the importance of the mechanism you serve in.
And so this thought brings a crumb of clarity, if not closure (just lately disturbed by a doubt: you’re probably not a very good cog, or ant, because frankly you look like you’re dying).
However, this idea I had, this project, was called “The Christmas Soldier”, about two privates from WW1, a British and a German one, meeting on the occasion of the fabled football game which was improvised for the exceptional and illusory truce of Christmas 1914.
For the two adversary soldiers it was instant love, as crazy and illogical as could be, but then of course they lost sight of each other, and the war went on.
My story developed into the 70’s, when one of the soldiers, the British one, who had become a medical officer in WW2, then a doctor for life, would write a book on his experience, and a young feminist journalist would be struck with interest and begin researching the matter. The book is received with niche approval, which spreads to wide fame when, some years later, thanks also to the young woman who chose to intertwine her destiny with those of the two boys lost in time, a film is made of the story. I keep the conclusion to myself.
Also because, in the meantime, not one, but two WRITERS have put out TWO books, mastering a recipe with my main ingredients: gay romance starting in WW1 and love confronting time and history. Although none of the two books are about one British and one German soldier, and my story IS different. But as they would say, the shot has been fired.
So, what’s that feeling called, when THIS happens?
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Come Doused In Mud
[contortionist!jimin x reader] [3.1k+ smut, yandere, ‼️ nonconsensual/dubious con sex, kidnapping, allusion to drugs, dark themes] This is the next and final part of Come As You Are. Thank you to everyone who gave this fic a chance and read it. Love u!
-
"I'm telling you, it was really weird, Tae," you complain to your friend as you pull him out of the tent—away from the show, away from the creepy man. "He was staring the whole time, and I couldn't break away, but I wanted to."
Taehyung chuckles, strangely finding amusement in what you are saying. "It was probably an act—fixate on one of the audience. Either way, these shows, they're all smoke and mirrors. We came here to have fun, yes?"
Your nerves were still buzzing with unease. Taehyung sees you close off and offers you his drink to appease you while his thumb circles your knuckles in an attempt to ground you. "We should at least go on a few rides," he suggests. "And while we go around, I'll make sure to protect you from creepy contortionists." Your friend makes a big show of puffing out his chest. His obvious gleaming mood is a huge contrast to yours. It almost doesn't bother you that despite your attempt to convey your discomfort, he had been too consumed with his high from the show.
But you realize you like him like this. You like that you're someone whose company he enjoys, and he's comfortable enough with you to let loose and be childish.
With a newfound determination to keep that boxy grin on Taehyung's face, you nod and agree to stay a little longer—go on a ride of his choice and maybe go back to the burger stand you skipped last week.
Also, if you allow yourself to be deluded, you can pretend you were out on a date with him. Tonight could be a fleeting glimpse of what it means to be like a couple. And here, you were in your own bubble with Taehyung. It truly felt like bliss, minus the creepy show you just witnessed.
“Come on," Taehyung tugs at your intertwined hands, pulling you out of your inner monologue. "Let’s see what’s there.” His free hand points to a mirror maze while he swings both your arms as he leads you to the labyrinth.
-
“Are we supposed to do something here?” You and Taehyung walk deeper into the center of the maze and as you go further, the light dims. "I mean, what's the point?"
Taehung shrugs in response. “The man said there was a prize in the middle of the maze.” His head turns left and right, hands still clasped together as he leads you through the maze.
You stop walking as you encounter another crossroad, the endless mirrors on each end and lack of light making you dizzy and nauseous. Not to mention that the longer you've been in the maze, with each passing second, your lulled anxiety resurges.
A shudder runs through you, and you can't help but feel the weight of unseen gazes following you and Taehyung. Reaching for Taehyung's hand, you pull him to take the lead. "Come on, Tae," your voice strained with anxiety. "In rigged games like this, left is always the shortest path to the exit, I'm sure of it."
Taehyung, on the other hand, wanted to take in everything. For some reason, he remained unbothered by your growing unease. Usually, he was good at sensing and reading you, but today, he remained partly oblivious. "What's the rush?" He tugs his limbs back, hands gripping yours tighter. "Come on, Y/N. I think we should go right. It could be fun."
"What fun can you have here?" You reason, free hand gesturing to the dingy mirrors and dusty panels.
Great. Not only do you feel nauseous, but you're pretty sure you now feel an oncoming migraine.
Your disagreement echoed off the mirrors, each reasoning bouncing back and forth. You were now growing frustrated. Meanwhile, Taehyung looked unperturbed, excited even—fueled by adrenaline and his 'sense of adventure'.
“Okay, you know what? Why don’t we split, and we'll just meet outside after,” he proposes.
It was a compromise. Sure. But if you were honest, you were also scared of walking alone. You look at Taehyung one last time, hoping he takes pity on you, but he remains unmoved. With a resigned sigh, you agree with a nod. Taehyung lets you walk your way first, and when you disappear from his sight after taking another turn, he takes his.
-
Frustration gnawed at your insides as you tried to jump and peek through the panels and mirrors, attempting to catch a glimpse of Taehyung or anything that would get you the fuck out of here. Yet, somehow, as the sun sets outside, the place only seemed to grow darker as nothingness bounced off of each surface.
As if to mock you, the dull fluorescent overhead began to flicker erratically, the flashing lights and shadows worsening your migraine and fueling your paranoia.
You really needed to get out of here. Now.
Screaming Taehyung's name, tears start to well up in your eyes. The weight of isolation began to sink into you, and your breaths came in shallow gasps as fear tightened its grip around you.
Oh god. Not now.
You feel around your pockets for your phone and curse when your hands come empty. Remembering you forgot to take your phone from Taehyung, you curse at everything around you—fuck this maze, fuck your jeans for having tiny pockets. Fuck everything. Your vision blurs as you let a sob out.
Looking up, you're met with your reflection. And you could not shake the unnerving sensation that someone—or something—else lurked just beyond your reflection. Mustering up your courage, you resume navigating around the mirror maze with hesitant steps. Suddenly, you hit your face in a mirror from abruptly turning around at the sight of a passing figure from your peripheral vision. You let out a pained groan, your hands shooting up to hold your assaulted nose.
Fuck.
“Tae, is that you?” You wince, eyes squinting, trying to make out your friend's face in the dim room.
"Tae, come on. You're not being funny. I'm really creeped out."
A minute of silence passed before you were answered. “Your friend is gone,” the voice singsongs.
A shaky breath leaves your lips. Okay, it's not Taehyung. But you refuse to think of the worst yet. Maybe this person can help you out. You clear your throat and address the man, “Hi, do you work here?” Feeling your way through mirrors, not wanting to slam your face again, you carefully feel your way around the maze. You’re not even sure if you’re walking closer to a mirrored image or the man himself.
“Could you please show me the way out? I think I broke my nose.” Though you don’t really think your nose is broken, you just hope he would feel sorry for you. And not to point fingers, but you getting hurt was partly his fault for appearing out of nowhere.
A light from outside pierces and bounces through the mirrors, briefly illuminating the place brighter, allowing you to get a quick glimpse of the man.
You freeze at the familiar face you're confronted with. The performer, contortionist, the man from the show earlier was already looking at you when your eyes found his. It wasn’t like a perchance glance like yours but more of a fixed glare. As if he knew exactly where you stood.
You stop shuffling within the space, hands getting clammy, and the room closes in on you. You don't know where to move, but you need to distance yourself from this man.
The shrieking laughter of a child running outside the tent breaks the eerie silence, and your head turns towards the noise. Resigning to the fact that no one could help you, especially this man, you try to follow the sound of mixed chatters and fanfare.
Heart pounding in your chest, you picked up your heavy feet forward. But with every turn you took, every corridor you rushed towards, you found yourself face to face with yet another dead end.
You refuse to give up.
You screamed Taehyung's name again, shrieked for help, and made any noise that would alarm anyone outside.
You will get out of here.
Hearing another laugh from outside, you turn to the source and run with desperation.
Your view turns dark as the bulb completely burns out. You could no longer see anything. As if the entrance to the maze disappeared into the dark. Immobilized by fear, all you could do was crouch. You'll fucking crawl your way out of here if you have to. You're pawing at the dry grass and dirt, telling yourself to put aside your disgust. You.have.to.get.out.of.here.
Then, just as you think you're making progress in the right direction, your fingers freeze upon feeling something unexpected—a sudden, jarring sensation freezes you in place. You recoiled instinctively, heart pounding in your chest as you realized what you had touched.
A foot.
The realization added a surge of fear coursing through your veins, your mind racing with a thousand terrifying possibilities. Again, you refuse to jump to the worst possibility.
No.
Not long after, you feel a warm breath ghost across your face, followed by a soft voice. "There you are."
It sounded so mellow, as if harmless. But your gut tells you it's anything but that. You feel a pair of rough hands hoist you up by your underarms. You squeal like caged piglets and fight against the person holding you. But before you can scream bloody murder, a striking force knocks you out.
-
Blinking against the harsh stream of light that flooded your vision, you turn sideways to make sense of your surroundings.
"Tae," you mumble—mouth dry and voice hoarse. You feel drilling in your head and your right eye twitches from the prickling pain.
Finally adjusting to the light, you find yourself lying in an unfamiliar room. The first thing you clearly see is the bright bedding draped on you, then a wall adorned with photographs. You force your eyes to make sense of the images, and you regret it. Your breath catches in your throat as you take in the images of you.
Each snapshot was supposed to be a happy memory of you and Taehyung from your first visit to the carnival. But now, you feel repulsed at the immortalized moment, knowing that behind the lights and festivity, darkness lurked. Just as your gut tried to warn you.
You start to wail. And your cries for help grow louder as you realize your hands are chained to the bedpost.
Someone comes closer to you. He plops himself beside you to the bed, demanding your attention. His eyes are alight with a strange mixture of intensity and malice. "Welcome home, Y/N," he smiled. The man reached out a hand, brushing your hair with his fingers. You flinch from his touch and struggle against the restraints.
It takes a minute for your wailing to turn to sensible words. "Who are you? Why are you doing this to me?"
But as you wait for an answer, all you are greeted with is a chilling calmness that you don't share. "Please," you beg.
He remains silent. His fingers still playing with your hair. "Don't you remember me? It's me, Jimin," he introduces himself with a smile.
You thrash around, wanting to mess up his pristine bed, anything that would show him you were against being here.
"Y/N," he calls your name, his voice still calm. Your response is a hard glare. You would curse at him, but you don't trust your voice not to break or turn to sobs again.
"Don't cry, baby." His hands leave your hair to thumb at your creased forehead. "Ever since I saw you, I knew it was you; it had to be you," his words dripping with an unsettling mix of obsession and conviction, "my soulmate."
"You're fucking crazy," you spit your words out; raspy but determined. Disliking your accusation, you stare at you until you shift from discomfort. The weight of his gaze bearing down on you like a suffocating blanket.
"You shouldn't resist, my dear," he deadpans. "We're bound by the red string of fate, tethered together, forever." His face closes in yours and noses at your cheek. His breath was hot against your ear as he resumed talking.
"You felt it too, didn't you?" he whispered, his voice a sinister hiss. "The tug of that thread when you first set foot into my carnival, my home. You cannot deny it any longer."
Your pulse raced with terror as you struggled to comprehend the depth of his delusion. You tried to speak, to protest, but your words were caught in your throat like a knot, choking off any plea, even curse and demeaning words you wanted to shout at him.
How the fuck are you supposed to reason with a crazy man?
Jimin's fingers trail along the curve of your shoulders. "You are finally home, my dear," he murmurs, his touch sending a wave of revulsion coursing through your veins. But you couldn't do anything but take it.
He presses a peck to your cheek. Sensing no movement from you, he slots his lips to yours.
At this, you react violently, your body thrashing to move as far away as you can from him. Your balled fists swing to his face but fall limp, and your feet locked in place tight; you couldn't even push yourself further away from the man.
"Get the fuck away from me," you screech. Guttural screams leave your mouth as you tug at the binds on your limbs.
"Tsk, you're making this difficult, Y/N." He secures your ties, the binds getting tighter, leaving your arms and legs completely immobile.
"I'll show you how good I can be for you, my dear."
-
"Please," you sob, "Please, enough," the last plea comes out as a moan.
Jimin continuously laps at your cunt, his head locked between your trembling thighs. You twist and turn your body to repel him, but Jimin's head only tilts to look at you. His eyes meet yours, and your breath catches in your throat as you are drawn into the depths of his dilated pupils.
Tingles run on Jimin's back, and if possible, his dick stiffens even more. He's exhilarated as he saw a reflection of his own desire mirrored—a passion so intense it threatened to consume you both. Finally.
He knew you were loving this. He knew he was going to have you. And he thinks he already has.
Unable to tear his gaze away, Jimin feels you gradually surrender to the irresistible pull of his hunger. Your defenses dissolved easily like the cotton candy you loved to wrap your tongue around. Arousal spurts from his cock at the thought of having your sweet tongue wrapped around him. Like cotton candy.
He dives back between your thighs and grazes his teeth to your nub. With his fingers prodding inside you in a come-hither motion, you come undone again for the third time. You're full-on panting as you regulate your breathing. Jimin kneels, and your eyes follow him. He was a sinful delight—lips glistening with your arousal, cheeks flushed, and his cock stands tall and weepy.
He notices your lidded eyes as you stare at his cock and chuckles. "Don't worry. I'll let you feel me sooner than later," he cajoles.
You couldn't find your sanity. You should be resisting, screaming, doing anything to make this difficult for him, but your body just resigns—pliant, submissive to his. You hesitantly bend your knees as far as your bounds let you and ready yourself for him.
With one swooping motion, Jimin leans closer to your body and lines his hard cock to your pussy. You moan in unison as he sinks his tip inside you. His other hand caressed your cheek, and you surprised yourself further as you leaned in. At this, Jimin smiles and smashes his lips to yours. Your mouth locks in a heated, hungry kiss.
Letting his love pour from every pore and hole, Jimin pushes his shaft inside you. The feeling of his bare cock and thick girth pulls an animalistic reaction from you—your nails indent his flawless skin, and your teeth sink to his shoulder, devouring him in all ways. Jimin's hand cups your ass to pull you towards his thrusting hips, his hunger for you never-ending.
And finally, he thinks, you've surrendered to your need for him as well.
A sigh leaves his lips as you move your grip from his back to brush through his hair. He trails kisses along your neck going to your collarbones, each peck turning into love bites. You whimper at the sting, and your lover grows feral at the melodies of your pleasure.
If possible, he would weld you two together like this—forever tangled in euphoria and pleasure. Jimin's hand dips between your compressed bodies, fingers traveling from your tits, taking his time tracing patterns on every skin he touches until he reaches his destination—your clit. His eyes stay on your face as he watches your face contort in pleasure to every flick and motion of his fingers to your pussy.
You stare back, as if beckoning him to cum with you. And so he does.
Your body trembles like aftershocks, and Jimin feels his cock protest in sensitivity.
This is wrong, you think as you have your arms wrapped around your captor. But letting him have his way with you, somehow felt right. This felt like home.
-
Jimin watches you slumber. His index finger softly traces the slope of your nose. "My beautiful Y/N."
He secures your wrist to the bedpost once again after making love to you. He couldn't risk it yet. Sure, you were no longer screaming at his face, but it's too early, he decides. You've been with him for a week now, and in those seven days, you’ve done nothing but fuck.
A patterned knock pulls his gaze from you.
About damn time.
Jimin opens the door to a grinning man. "Took you long enough," he sneers.
His friend only huffs, "Well, excuse you. I had to deal with the missing reports. Her friends are fucking persistent, and I had to play my part."
"Well, is it dealt with?" Jimin pours water for him and his visitor.
"It's not hitting the local news yet, but I feel like it will die down in a few days." His guest waves off the offered water. "You and I know what could be in that water."
Jimin scoffs. "Why the fuck would I want you passed out in my home." The man across from him just shrugs in response, then says his goodbye.
"Hey, Taehyung," your so-called friend raises his brows, awaiting Jimin's next words, "Thanks for the help with Y/N. I owe you one."
Taehyung only wiggles his eyebrows. He chances a look over Jimin's shoulders to peek at you lying on the bed across the room, then pulls the door close as he leaves.
-
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silverskye13 · 2 months
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I'm wondering what kind of thought process you have for choosing which character get which brackets for their thinking? cause I think the ones you chose fit rly well, especially the {} for wels and [] for helsknight, for some reason they feel very correct
Mostly just vibes, tbh!
Tanguish got (parenthesis) because it's what is grammatically correct [you probably notice I put my personal thoughts in brackets. It was really hard to break that while writing the fic, and if I go awhile between chapters, I will fall back into bad habits and put all thoughts in brackets again, whoops.] His inner thoughts in parenthesis are primarily observations tied to his emotions. He doesn't really think thoughts, he feels thoughts.
Examples:
(The hermits never know what they’re doing, but this isn’t something Tanguish knows. Sometimes he wonders about it, but he hasn’t quite figured it out yet.)
(But he wasn't lying, and he wasn’t a knight, and this shouldn’t matter, it really shouldn’t.)
When I decided I wanted to have other POVs in the fic, I kind of had to case what parenthesis I had left at my disposal. Unless I wanna get silly with it, for the most part, all that's remaining is [], {}, <>, ||, and maybe /\ if I wanna play around a little.
Helsknight has very rigid and straightforward inner thoughts. I wanted to keep most of his internal monologue to tactical information.
Examples:
[Enchanted netherite, because of course it was. He could recognize enough of the symbols to know it was an efficient workman's tool, but sharpness felled people just as well as trees.]
[Control the situation. Put distance between Tanguish and the danger. Keep the Demon busy long enough for escape.]
For that, the brackets make the most sense. He's thinking rigid truths and commands. It also feels close to his personality? I guess? A bit hard to explain, but to me, every action he takes is framed in something. He has rigid codes that he measures himself by, like he's constantly bookend-ed. He breaks those bookends when he's angry, and it's a physical wall that brings him pain when he breaks it. He needs [solid, rigid] visuals for that bookend-ing. Brackets were best.
Welsknight then, I wanted to be visually similar to Helsknight, in which case {} would work well, and their distinctive shapes made me think of something,,, I dunno,,, fancier is a bad word. But the curly brackets are a little needlessly complicated. That complication has a use in coding, but on a standard keyboard, for writing purposes, its unnecessary. I like what it implies about how everything with Wels in the story is gilded, covered in unnatural perfection and holiness. Wels's [mostly unseen] issues in the fic are that he has a problem with ideals. Helsknight is the gritty, grimdark reality of what being a perfect knight is, with all its internal battling for perfection, and all its self-sacrificial, borderline suicidal heroism. Welsknight, however, is the projected ideal of what a knight should be, the glitz, glamour and chivalry. He is light that is blinding, but ultimately harmful, ungrounded. His is the idea of a crusade, not because it is right or just, but because thats what knights are supposed to do, and this is the nearest evil to hand. Something superfluously curly works nicely for his thoughts.
Tango gets the <> for his thoughts, both because I like how pointed and analytical it is [carrots are used for coding and tags in html], how well it meshes with him as a game developer and programmer, and also because it looks a lot like his problem of lancing through things. He is a little spear of a guy. He sees a thing he wants -- or wants to avoid -- and he leaps for it. He ignores Tanguish's warnings, because they're uncomfortable, and there is a different reality he would rather deal with right now, thank you. Sharp little thoughts for Tango.
[Jazzhands!] So, yeah!
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marzsbarsz · 1 year
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every star dies out eventually
another shot at klance
i feel like with the way i wrote this one, i have to explain it a bit
this is keith's inner monologue, with the "you" pronouns referring to lance
sorry if that's confusing i tried my best !
okay enjoy :-)
word count ; 906
warnings ; blood, death, "fuck" is said like 11 times, the gays never win !!
fuck.
how did it end this way?
how did i, my hoarse voice screaming to the stars, my scarred hands clutching the remains of what was once mine,
end up here?
my love, my sun, my stars, my soul, 
more than a person, more than a teammate,
more than anything i could ever hope to describe,
here,
bleeding out in my arms,
in the ship full of my own people.
my own people, who caused this disgrace and tragedy of a moment.
i told myself,
“this is why you never should have fallen in love.
this is what fucking happens to people like you, keith kogane.”
and yet,
strangely i regret nothing.
“lance! are you okay?” 
“we did it. we are a good team.”
you took my hand.
you were full of warmth. you were weak, you were all scratched up, your hair sticking out in different directions,
and yet,
you were the most beautiful, beautiful boy i had ever laid my eyes on.
that’s when i knew i fell for you.
your hand tugged at my sleeve.
“c’mon, keith, let’s go, let’s go!”
“i’m coming, lance, please shut the fuck up.”
jesus. please, please don’t ever shut up, lance. i love you too much. please.
your head resting on my chest, your ear pressed close to my heart, as i hear your soft snores and feel your warm breath as you sleep.
fuck, i need to feel that again. to feel your breath on my chest, to know that you’re still here. to know that you’re safe in my arms.
you’re the opposite of safe right now. you’re not fucking safe and there’s nothing i can do about it.
and i’m so sorry.
“you promise?”
your soft giggles echo through the empty training room, my arms wrapped around your waist, our foreheads pressed together.
“i promise, angel, always.”
even when i promised to protect you and stay with you, even in that moment…
i somehow knew i probably couldn’t keep that promise.
but i’d try. god, i’d try.
i’d fight for you until my knuckles bleed, until i could no longer stand on my own two feet, until my very last breath.
i never asked you to do the same for me.
“what the fuck do you mean you’re leaving? you’re just gonna- leave me f-for them…?” 
your defeated voice broke out into heart wrenching sobs, unable to continue speaking. and honestly, i don’t think i could bear hearing anything more. 
“i’m so sorry, angel. i have to. i’m so sorry.” that was all i could say as i took your trembling body in my arms.
your muffled cries an agonizing sound in my ears, your tears that soak my shirt feeling more like a stab in the chest.
knowing that i’m the cause for them just makes my head hang low with shame, my own tears finally escaping my eyes.
and the only words that i can utter are words of apology, pathetic phrases that just won’t reach you no matter how hard i try.
letting you go then felt like i was choking.
and letting you go now stripped all the oxygen from my lungs.
“LANCE!”
i couldn’t even hear myself scream. i could only feel my throat strain to call for you as i saw you jump in front of me.
it wasn’t until a few seconds later when i saw the blood.
“fuck, lance, no, no no no no, please…”
my hands grab at you: your back, your torso, anywhere i could reach.
you cough out blood, a bit splattering on my face and chest.
but that didn’t matter to me.
“k-keith…?”
your hands reach out to engulf me in a hug.
“fuck, angel, i’m so sorry. why did you do that? i could have taken it, i could have taken it, fuck, please, stay awake. stay awake for me angel. keep those eyes open beautiful, i got you. i got you.”
“keith, p-please, i d-don’t…”
“no, no, no, angel, i got you, just please, help is on the way, just stay awake for me. stay awake, okay? open those pretty eyes of yours, wanna see ‘em. can you do that for me, baby?”
“keith, i-i… keith, i…”
“no, no angel, save your breath. save your energy, baby, it’s alright. i got you.”
“t-tell my f-family i lo-love them, a-and…”
i wanted to scream out for you to stop saying that, to stop acting as if you’re dying, but deep down, i knew you were. i knew this was it.
every star dies out eventually.
“...a-and th-that… i ho-hope i m-made them pr-proud… a-and t-tell eve-everyone-e-else too, and k-keith…”
“yes, baby, i’m right here. what do you need, angel?”
it’s a miracle i didn’t stutter, with the amount of tears pouring down my cheeks and the uneven breaths escaping from my lips.
you pull me down by my collar, and our lips met for one final time.
“i love you. i l-love you so, so m-much, keith. i love you.
i’ll be waiting.”
your hand let go of my suit, and the life drained from your eyes.
and now here we are, my hands clutching onto your suit for dear life, screaming out to the moons and suns and stars and whatever the fuck else was up above.
our teammates stood behind us as i cried my heart out.
and i couldn’t even fucking care less.
every star dies out eventually.
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yakuzabrainrotlive · 10 days
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Finished Y4 today!! Just said "fuck it" and played for like... 10 hours??? This is part 1, no way I can fit everything in one post.
A bit of a Kiryu rant/monologue at the bottom.
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Akiyama... my beloved, my king..... you kept your money in your office?? In cash??? And the safe itself didn't even have a proper safety system like a passcode?? 😭 Oh my god....
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I find it so funny how Kiryu takes like... 10 seconds to consider when Katsuragi tells him he'll have to take on an entire clan's worth of people alone. He really said "aight, bet" LMAO
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OKAYYY saw this coming, kind of. Yasuko was really the mvp, taking Katsuragi's ass out like that. Incredible. Rest in peace, queen🫡
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This conversation made me UNWELL emotionally. I know Kiryu isn't someone who's shaken up lightly, but this one hit deep for me. What I wouldn't do to see what was going on in Kiryu's head at this moment...
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CAN SOMEONE END THIS MAN FR-
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-oh. Thank you, Arai! Very cool. I was so happy when I saw this.
I honestly find this man so FASCINATING. He truly feels like his loyalty remains with the Greater Good™ instead of a particular person. He has principles and isn't afraid to enforce them. Love it.
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FINALLY. Now, I don't have any issues with Kiryu's thing where wants to live in peace and leave the whole Yakuza life (mostly) behind. BUT.
Since Kiwami 2 I've kind of felt like he's been... indecisive? Nah. I feel like he hasn't been able to stick to that decision. Probably because he has important people in the clan and he feels a sense of responsibility for the clan, idk.
It's almost felt like he's been in.. denial(??) about how much he wants the Tojo clan to remain standing. He's constantly been in a weird sort of limbo where he is neither Yakuza NOR a civilian. And my issue isn't even there, it's with how he's been coming through like a whirlwind, deconstructing the foundations of the Yakuza circles and then just... leaving Daigo and, in a way, Majima to do the complicated clean up and rebuilding. Now, Daigo and co. ARE grown adults and they could ask for help, but... It's always felt weird to me. I know Haruka and the other kids are his uncontested #1 priority and I fully support that, but I also don't think Kiryu realizes just how much shit Daigo especially has been saddled with. Now, I don't know how much Kiryu COULD have done, but... I don't know. It's always felt off to me.
I don't think Kiryu should make a full return to the Yakuza life or anything like that, but I hope he's starting to acknowledge his own feelings and role in all this. Maybe he could be like an advisor or consultant Daigo could call upon when shit is starting to hit the proverbial fan?
At times it's felt like Kiryu has been actively self-sabotaging his own wish to be away from this life. He says he wants to remain at a distance, but he also takes up the mantle of crisis handler quite quickly when he hears there's a storm brewing in Kamurocho. Again, it's probably got to do with his resolve to save people and avoid unnecessary bloodshed, and he HAS resolved the crises effectively AND in a way that's saved many lives, don't get me wrong, but... he has actively made life more difficult for himself this whole time by keeping up this weird inner struggle.
Now, I do acknowledge that trouble does come to find him as well. Ryuji probably would have hauled Kiryu's ass to a duel no matter what he did, and in Y3 Kiryu's sworn brother DID get shot so it was understandable he'd wanna know the truth behind the case. But I feel he has also taken bigger, more active roles than he would have had to.
I do hope Kiryu sticks to this decision and stops running from all this. Stops denying the role he keeps assigning to himself. It's tragic that he keeps being dragged into things because of his decision to join the Yakuza when he was still quite young, but it's time to deal with the hand he's been dealt because of that decision.
Gahhhh, I ADORE how complex Kiryu is. I might sound whiny or like I dislike this guy, but that's not it at all! Kiryu is still solidly in my TOP 3 and I love him.
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boyakishantriage · 1 year
Text
"Y'know, I've been sitting here for all of. Ten. Twenty minutes you've been talking about your little want for end of civilization, and before the shock wears off I should tell you."
The woman pulled out a grenade.
"I've been making it a habit to bring one with me. Really randomly. Most recently I've kept it. And do you want to know why?"
She was remarkably calm, laser guns aimed on her as she pulled the pin on the incendiary device. "Since both of you are clearly anxious. I'll tell you. Luck. Now don't worry, I won't tell anyone about this little. Incident. But I'll tell you this. You strike a single person I know, I take the first ship I can and jerry rig it straight to your planet. But regardless. Let's talk."
She never once let go of the grenade, at time she'd toss the grenade around, very carefully with the charge always held so gravity would never let it fall. She'd done this hundreds of times, explosives weren't her specialty but they were her favourite. We were Galks, known as the tests for any weak civilizations. In actuality, we were liberators, barbarians who's resources and minds would work greater for us.
The alien's inner monologue was abruptly cut short as I held the grenade by the ball shape, very dangerous since it probably would explode if not for the two chambers and flint at the bottom where enough gunpowder would ignite the chemically modified gunpowder.
Pulling out a gun, I aimed it at my own head.
"Now another thing. This may surprise you, but a first ship to your planet is a death sentence, but I have my own tricks so if this grenade doesn't kill ya. Well..."
The rest of the book remained in tatters, the woman in question glaring at me as she threw the rest of the transcript into the incinerator.
"Don't look into the past."
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reservoirreputation · 7 months
Text
Why Not Both?: Extras
Notes for my ResDogs fic of the same name
title ideas, as I’m not totally sold on ‘Why Not Both?’:
Chaos Trio
Hate Fucking
summary: Larry and Vic are both into the new guy on the crew, fresh-faced Freddy. Both wanna shoot their shot, but the other guy is constantly cockblocking. Freddy goes from confused to flattered to annoyed in record time, and tries to scare at least one of them off; he’s interested in both men, and it’s up to Larry and Vic to figure out what they wanna do about it. Shock of all shocks, Vic agrees- and Larry can’t let him win, quickly agreeing, as well. Freddy plays it off like he’s won, in the end, but has a constant inner monologue of ‘oh SHIT, what now??’ going through his head. 
the world, expanded: AU of the events of the film, but Freddy isn’t a cop. It’s still Vic’s first job fresh out of the clinker, still on probation. Joe expresses some caution, and wants to ease Vic back into work (could be Vic got beat up in jail, got sick, maybe something happened to Eddie? To Joe, even? Maybe Joe’s plans for the jewelry store simply fell through, maybe there was a leak in the LAPD warning him about their plans to get in Joe’s inner circle. A moment even, of showing how competent Freddy was in the film to get as far as he did, and how the undercover job could’ve gone tits up before it ever got off the ground, in the hands of someone else. Really, this is an examination of ‘what if everything else in the story remained the same, but Freddy went down more the path of ‘Orange’ rather than ‘Officer’, showing that he was fully capable of both since as long as he could remember.
Still have it be the first time Larry and Vic interact; have Joe be cautious, probably about the LAPD tip, and want any of his guys to work alone, but for there to also be no big jobs. And, wouldn’t you know? Vic Vega and Larry Dimmick have never met. And if this thing between Vic and Eddie is that serious, Vic should get to know some of Joe’s oldest and most trusted allies. So, these two buddy up as a pair, maybe an occasional word from the other dogs, especially Blue.
After a couple of stressful, small jobs, Larry and Vic blow off some steam at a local watering hole- and someone quickly catches Larry’s attention. Cute older guy, likely in his 40s. Larry starts off talking to him, goes to use the bathroom, comes back out-
-and Vega’s flirting with his catch.
During a moment where the cute 40-something is gone, Larry asks Vic what the fuck he’s doing? ‘Aren’t you with Eddie?’ ‘we’re not exclusive.’ ‘Well, how big of you. Now why don’t you leave this guy to me? I wasn’t exactly being subtle about my intentions’ ‘shouldn’t what’s his name get to choose? Put on a better game, and you’ll have nothing to worry about.’ and Larry doesn’t care for this, just lets it go. Frustrated, sure, but he’s not in high school and doesn’t need this immature bullshit. The next time, about a week later, they’re at a different bar, and Larry has his eyes on a new prize; a gorgeous woman, closer to his age. It’s only been a few months since ‘Bama, and Larry’s more in the mood for dick, but he’s certain that Vic won’t care about cockblocking him on this. Which, of course, Vic has to go and prove him wrong, and do just that.
Vic motivation: he actually finds Larry attractive, and could use his words, and be very clear about his intentions, but he just loves winding people up so much. Maybe even foreshadow it with a ‘fight’ between Vic and Eddie at the start of the story. So, Vic really wants to sleep with Larry, but wants to piss him off, first.
Multi POV or only one? I think Larry’s POV is necessary, maybe some of Freddy’s, but the comedy of Larry’s ‘OH’ moment when he realizes Vic’s into him really hinges on us (the reader) being on the outside when it comes to Vic’s motivations.
The outline:
-Open to Joe’s office, and he’s giving Larry the lowdown on Vic Vega’s release, and how he’s anxious about any big jobs, because of the LAPD leak. How he’s shelved the jewelry store idea, and wants Larry to walk Vega through his probation. All that Larry knows about him is what Eddie rants and raves about, and thinks that Vega can’t be too bad.
-First time Larry and Vic meet, and Larry gets a bit of the creeps. Realizes pretty quickly that he’s met Vega’s kind before, and that the guy’s likely a psycho, wonders what the hell Eddie sees in him. 
-As a bonding exercise, Larry, Vic and Eddie go out for lunch. Vic just endlessly antagonizes Eddie, and Larry wonders how the hell they can stand each other. Maybe a narrator moment of Larry looking away, and Eddie and Vic giving the closest thing to puppy dog eyes that they’re capable of.
-A recap of the first week, and various smalltime jobs. Larry mostly drives, leads the charge, and Vic starts needling him about this, implying that Larry’s a control freak. Larry doesn’t take the bait, keeps his place behind the wheel. He does feel a bit ridiculous though, physically taking charge when Vic’s obviously so much bigger than him (a fun parallel to that one scene in BSN)
-First bar, Larry’s trying to ignore Vic’s general weirdness, and sees a hot, younger guy as the perfect distraction. Cockblocking ensues.
-Another recap, this time of week two. A meeting with Joe, where he’s starting to get more comfortable with the idea of a medium-sized job. Wants to bring in a new face, has his eye on a few guys, including the likes of Dennis (Brown), Mark (Pink) and Freddy (Orange). Wants Larry to go over these potential hires with him soon, probably take Joe another week to really check these guys over, make sure there are no undercover fucks/snitches, considering how close the last call was. 
-Second bar in as many weeks, Larry tries shooting his shot with a woman around his age, thinking that Vic’s just gay, but the guy makes a point to ruin Larry’s chances (be it by flirting with the woman, himself, or by scaring her off). Larry’s really annoyed, but still tries to be the bigger man. He justifies his just- letting it go, by convincing himself he needs to more professional, and that these bar trips were still very much on the clock.
-Week three, and the auditions begin. Blue joins as a panel judge of sorts, and Larry’s in quiet awe because he’s heard so much about the guy. So, Larry, Blue, Joe and Eddie go through the new candidates (another throwback, this time to S&R, but instead of a panicked Larry looking for his LAPD contact-) and Larry’s kinda happy to be rid of Vic, feeling like he can properly breathe for the first time in days. Sure, there was downtime at home, but work always promised more interactions with the psycho. Funny enough, Larry’s mind keeps wandering back to Vic, showing that distance does make the heart grow fonder. All that goes out the window when Larry lays eyes on Freddy Newandyke. Instant connection, palpable chemistry, and Larry’s smitten. He finds himself thinking as well, ‘Finally, something that Vic can’t mess up!’ and tries to push down the odd feeling of guilt that rears its ugly head.
-At home, able to digest everything, Larry (attempts to) comes to his senses: he likes the new kid, Freddy, but he’s so young, even younger than Vic (ad why should Larry make that comparison to begin with?). That, along with how new the kid is to a more organized operation, it would be all kinds of gross to take advantage of that; surely Larry could say ‘jump’ and the kid would ask ‘how high?’. It’s unethical, unprofessional, and, besides, ‘what would Vic have to say about it?’
-The next day, Joe tells Larry that he and Vic are doing so well as a duo, that he thinks Larry can fit more on his plate. Blue’s taking on Dennis and Mark, so it’s only right that Larry and Vic take on Freddy. Happiness surges, and is quickly tamped down, as Larry agrees to the arrangement, because what else is he supposed to do, to say?
-The first job of the new trio. If Larry’s a people person, and Vic’s the muscle, then Freddy’s a smooth talker. Where there’s a generational gap between Larry and some of the people they have to talk to, Freddy fills in the gap, quite nicely. Larry can’t help but reflect on this with pride, at the end of a long day.
-The fourth week, and fourth bar. Freddy’s been giving Larry signals all week, and Larry can’t help but get his hopes up… because it’s plain as day that Freddy’s been sending the same signals to Vic. Again, trying to be the rational one, Larry figures that Freddy’s just got a flirty personality, and doesn’t mean anything by it. Only, one particular talk between him and the kid clinches it, and he knows for certain that Freddy’s interested. Larry’s high on love, though it’s too soon to call it like it is. He heads to the bathroom, cleans up a bit, justifies sleeping with the guy, that Joe can’t be that much of a hypocrite, giving Larry shit over a coworker lay while letting Eddie and Vic continue on, unbothered, and is also just so jazzed that a young, confident catch like Freddy wants anything to do with him. He’s so high on the potential lay, that all the air is sucked out of the room when he leaves the toilet-
-and sees Vic chatting Freddy up. Like the two previous outings, Vic’s ready to spoil his catch. Larry, completely fed up at this point, isn’t willing to let Freddy get scared off/swept up just like that.
Notes on outline, draft #1: to make it stand out more from other fics, and vary up the locations, cut down on the amount of bar scenes. Maybe only have 2: the first weekend, and possibly Larry and Vic stop by a gay bar for the sake of convenience, and the auditions, where we meet Dennis, Mark and Freddy for the first time. Week two could be a taco truck by the beach, and Larry seeing the older woman out in the wild. Week four/Larry’s pass at Freddy can be in the car on the way home; maybe Larry’s hoping for privacy, but the route means dropping Freddy off, first, so he tries to make the proposal while they’re getting dinner (though Larry’s not really hungry) and he keeps waiting for Vic to give them some space, like heading off to the bathroom, or even just calling Eddie to pick him up, something. Just to get a variety of settings and locations.
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Text
Diabolik Lovers LOST EDEN ー Ayato Maniac [08]
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Monologue
Ever since we returned to our room, after finishing the meal,
Ayato-kun has not spoken a single word. 
I believe that he might be thinking about,
the letter he received,
from Zweig-san, the Vibora King. 
ー The scene starts in the guest room at Eden
Yui: ( Ayato-kun has been seemingly lost in thought this whole time... )
( I probably shouldn’t bother him, right...? )
Ayato: ...Hey, Chichinashi. 
Yui: Eh? 
Ayato: ‘Bout the thing with the Vibora clan. What do you think about it?
Yui: ...Well...
( I’ll just be honest... )
I do believe it would be reassuring to have an ally on our side...
However, if I’m honest, I’m doubtful whether or not we should trust them so easily. 
Ayato: ...Right. I thought so too. 
The Old Hag was part Vibora if I recall correctly...But that’s the only connection we have, right?
Then why would he suddenly claim that he ‘acknowledges me as the King’? 
It’s not like he knows me all that well or anything...It smells fishy...
ー Ayato gets up from his seat
Ayato: I’ve decided. I’ll turn down the offer. 
I think I’d still be much better off by myself, than to have to rely on the help of those suspicious fuckers.
Yui: Ayato-kun...
( But he’s right. If he declines Zweig-san’s offer... )
( Ayato-kun might end up having to fight all on his own. )
( Besides... )
Hey, Ayato-kun. If you do turn down the offer...I wonder if the Vibora will just simply accept that?
Ayato: ...What do you mean? 
Yui: For example, they might try to form an alliance with someone else after you’ve turned them down...
( I guess I’m just overthinking things... )
Ayato: You mean like the Vibora joining forces with the Wolves or the Alder? I can’t see that happening. Otherwise they would have long done so already. 
Yui: Right...But what about the Church...?
Ayato: ...With those guys in the human world...?
Yui: Yeah...
( The Church is trying to wipe out all Demons living in the human world... )
( However, they might be willing to temporarily work together with them depending on the situation... )
( Kino-kun is the perfect example... )
Ayato: That could happen. The Church basically consists of Vampire hunters, right?
Those guys hold a personal grudge ‘gainst us. There’s the whole situation with you as well...
Speakin’ of which, what ever happened to your pops? Is he still workin’ for the Church? 
Yui: Father...? Well, I’m not sure actually...
( However, I cannot imagine someone as devout as my Father would part ways with the Church. )
( If he is still alive, then I’m sure he’s with the Church... )
Ayato: Assuming that Vibora are hoping to take down us Vampires from behind the scenes...
Then I’m sure the Church will happily work together with them. Your Old Man would do the same, no? 
After all, it’d be a perfect opportunity to get you back. 
Yui: ...
Ayato: I guess we should pretend to fall for their sweet words and join forces with them after all...?
Fuck...What should I do? I guess I’ll have no other choice but to ask Reiji for advi...
...
Yui: Ayato-kun...
Ayato: ...Hehe. What am I sayin’ now...?
Even though I’m the one who claimed I don’t need them...
Anyway, we have lil’ time left to decide. No point in rackin’ our brain over every single possibility. 
I’ve still got these powers when worse comes to worst. I’m sure it’ll all work out in the end. 
Yui: ...
Monologue
And with those words,
Ayato-kun sent a Familiar,
to Zweig-san.
I remained quiet,
and followed his decision. 
*TIMESKIP*
*Rustle* 
ー Yui wakes up
Yui: ...Nn...
Huh...?
*Rustle rustle*
Yui: ( Ayato-kun is gone...? I could have sworn he was sleeping next to me just earlier... )
( I wonder where he went...? )
Selection
→ Go look for him (❦)
Yui: ( I’m kind of worried. I suppose I’ll go search around for a bit... )
→ Wait and see 
Yui: ( I’m kind of worried. But... )
( He might come right back, so I’ll wait and see a bit longer... )
*TIMESKIP*
Yui: ( Doesn’t seem like he’s coming back any time soon... )
ー She gets out of bed
Yui: ( I’m really starting to get worried now...I’ll look around for him a bit. )
ー The scene shifts to the inner garden
Ayato: ...
God, why did all of this happen...?
( I thought I could pull it off even without havin’ to rely on my brothers’ help. But... )
( I’m sure that if Reiji was here right now, he would have been able to give me some kind of advice. )
( As nosy and annoyin’ as that guy might be, I gotta admit that he’s got the brains... )
( Shuu can be more or less useful when it truly matters too. )
( Even Subaru could have been a great asset with his raw power alone. )
( Which leaves Kanato and Laito... )
( They’re a duo of idiots, but how should I put it...? )
( We share the closest connection amongst my whole family... )
( Both of us suffered similarly at the hand of that Old Hag, and we worked together to kill her... )
( I do see us as allies in that regard... )
( But...They’re no longer here. I’m all alone now. )
( Even though I wished for that myself, why am I having regrets now? )
Fuck...This is pathetic...
( Maybe I was wrong. )
( Deep down, I never wanted these powers. )
( But...That shitty Old Fart... )
*TIMESKIP*
Ayato: ...
Yui: Ah, Ayato-ku...
*Rustle* 
Yui: ( I wonder why...? Ayato-kun lacks his usual confident aura... (1) )
( But I can hardly blame him. Of course he’s disheartened being all by himself... )
( I’m sure that he actually wants to make up with everyone. Even earlier... )
ー Yui recalls his words
Ayato: Fuck...What should I do? I guess I’ll have no other choice but to ask Reiji for advi...
...
ー The flashback ends
Yui: ( Despite everything, he still relied on everyone... )
Ayato: Phew...Hm? Chichinashi, is that you? How long have you been standing there? 
Yui: I got here just now.
Ayato: ...Hm.
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Yui: Hey, Ayato-kun. Tell me if there’s anything I can do for you, okay?
Ayato: Ah? Why would you bring that up all of a sudden...?
Yui: ...There might not be much I can do. But...
I believe in you, okay...? 
Ayato: ...
Yui: Hm. You believe, huh...? I see. Then how does this sound?
Be on my side forever. If you believe me, that means you’re my ally in this fight, right?
In that case, I want you to stay my ally even in the future to come. ...Can you do that? 
Yui: Of course. 
Ayato: ...Heeh. I see. 
I was thinkin’ by myself for a bit and I realized that it’s important to have allies in life.
I thought I didn’t need them but...
Maybe I was just convinced that everyone would automatically be on my side...
Even though...That shouldn’t have been taken for granted at all...
Yui: Ayato-kun...
It’ll be okay. I’ll forever be your ally, okay?
Ayato: Hah, really? But...I guess that doesn’t sound bad...
ー The Mukami’s observe from the distance
Kou: ...
Yuma: ...
Azusa: ...
Monologue
Ayato-kun is having regrets (後悔). 
Over the fact that he pushed everyone away from him. 
It became painfully obvious to me just how lonely he felt,
as I instinctively grabbed his hand (手). 
I will never, ever be able,
to abandon Ayato-kun.
So just as I thought, things cannot stay like this.
ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー
Translation notes
(1) Yui literally notes that he appears ‘smaller’ than usual. However, this does not refer to his actual height, but it’s meant to convey that someone seems to have lost motivation and therefore appears less impressive. 
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goddamnwebcomics · 7 months
Text
Monster Girl Academy: The Second Beatdown (Issues 11-14)
Monster Girl Academy remains the worst webcomic I've ever riffed. I've been holding off from riffing rest of the chapters because I wanted to save them for July 2024, which will be a special flashback month in honour of the 10th Anniversary of this blog.
However, picking the right issues to riff for that period, it's difficult. I've read so many issues of this shit, and all of them are terrible.
So, I originally wanted to riff those issues in old school way of posting the pages one by one to spite Kraw, but I don't think it matters since my blog is niche. So instead, I am going to do an issue by issue beatdown of remaining MGA chapters, and highlight everything that is wrong with them. However, I will still be posting the full pages that, if they were to be riffed normally, would receive Crappiest of Crappy Crap tags, and those pages will carry on this counter.
Let us begin with the Issue I skipped, Issue 11.
Issue 11: Nurse Rapist Returns
Zack is on grocery store, when he spots a child crying in the aisles. The child belongs to Nurse Rapist, who I didn't recognize at first because she looks so different in her civil form. Why does she have a child? Who fucking knows.
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And we IMMEDIATELY see the thing that I fucking hate most about MGA. Zack's stupid fucking horny monologue. It's a shame Vincent's mom is a rapist. Maybe one day he will join Dullahan's little sister and flee this cursed city.
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We're back to "Everyone's eyes are always wide shut" mode which takes this look way lewdier than it should. We conventiently learn that Nurse Rapist is a single mother and HER LIFE IS HARD.
Also, we're in page 3 and Zack has already fantasized multiple times. And they're just as ridiculous as his inner monologue.
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How fucking convenient she said that, then again she is a rapist and probably taking advantage of Zack. I would feel bad for him if he wasn't such a fucking piece of shit.
Anyways, Zack asked Nurse Rapist on a date and this gets him excited.
And we already have the first CoCC page on our hands
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Not only are we posting yet another shitty meme, we're also BRUTALLY besmirching the good name of David Bowie, let him rest in peace. Also god, does ANYONE have ANY public decency in this universe?
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And we get an implication Nurse Rapist wasn't always a futa. So uh, does this mean the cock was caused by a late blooming? So girls with dicks ARE monsters in this world, good job Kraw. I'll be sure to tell that to my 7 transgirl friends.
Zack gets a latte for Nurse Rapist as he does more of his shitty inner monologue, I swear there's more of it in this chapter than EVER before.
We learn Nurse Rapist is also a researcher for an organization, which is kind of suspicious, and we learn her first name is something I won't remember so I'm gonna keep calling her Nurse Rapist.
Zack then makes Nurse Rapist cry when he suggests doing something about his succubus transformation instead of...having sex?
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Something tells me this has happened with every NORMAL woman Zack has known during his life.
Zack then kisses Nurse Rapist and Nurse Rapist gets a boner, if what happened earlier was supposed to be an emotional scene then good god it's even worse than this comic's last attempt at being emotional. Also their date lasted like 1 page.
They go in their apartment and strip and start doing the hey nanny nanny, we also get a Kraw making a random ass reference to Food Wars?
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Food Wars for those who don't know is an anime where food is treated like ecchi fanservice. I don't know why this is necessary, Zack mentions drinking ice cold beer in a hot tub with Nurse Rapist, he has mentioned food before. Dude, you sat down to watch Food Wars and forced a reference to it, that's why you did this reference.
Also, no way Zack will EVER drink beer of any kind. Pepsi is probably too intense for this moron.
After that we get this CLASSY line.
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So women with penises aren't women? Maybe Kraw locked this comic behind a paywall so he can protect himself from people who rightfully want his head on a plate. Seriously, the day he writes Spinnerette to have trans representation he is fucking doomed.
Even worse than that, Zack's response to that is
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Shut the fuck up, seriously.
The hey nanny nanny begins for reals and Nurse's cock is slamming against him, and then arguably the highlight of this arc happens.
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Zack licks Nurse Rapist's cock, yes, your boy Zack is now OFFICIALLY homosexual. And in the next issue he fucks Minotaur's brother. If this comic actually had any guts, Zack would have a bisexual harem. Not gonna say it would make this comic any better though.
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Also we get this masterpiece, Nurse Rapist officially is the first harem girl in this comic to get her own off-model cumming face. Turning it upside down will not make me not notice it, Kraw
Nurse Rapist then suggests they'd have fun with Zack's succubussy form and they kiss. Blah.
Alright I will start rating these issues from 1 to 5 stars. 1 star means, it was better than expected, 2 stars mean, it was mediocre which is still a stepup from this comic's average quality, 3 stars mean it was average shit, 4 stars mean it was shittier than average shit, and 5 stars means it's the worst issue in MGA history. For this chapter I'm gonna give it
⭐⭐⭐⭐
It would've been 3 stars if it wasn't for the terrible dialogue about Nurse Rapist wanting to feel like a woman and Zack's terrible inner monologues being more frequent than usual. Also Kraw needs to keep David Bowie's name out of his damn mouth.
Issue 13: Zack's Double Date Part 2
This is the first time in MGA history we directly follow from the events of previous issue, as Zack is still in his festival outfit and coming to Cheenotaur's apartment after pleasuring her brother all night. Zack then spots her lifting weights because gyms bro Kraw loves gyms bro that's why he has the build of a fat chipmunk.
Zack thinks Cheenotaur is mad at him for leaving, but she isn't, she is embarrassed for being so sweaty though, but of course Zack's inner monologue tells a different story.
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I'm starting to think the reason Zack never says these out loud is because the girls aren't stupid enough to take his fucking simptalk.
Anyways, we see the proud Kraw tradition of Cheenotaur having ridiculous muscles, because she has to exercise or else she gets stressed. Gurl, you don't get muscles like that unless you're bodybuilding 24/7. Kraw thinks routine exercises make you a fucking bodybuilder, apparently.
They go inside to get a shower and we get an update on Cheenotaur's fish, because that was necessary. Fuck it, Dullahan's sister will never appear again, so the fish is the new best character.
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Free him.
Turns out Cheenotaur built a fucking JAPANESE BATH HOUSE to his room, completely with a picture of Mount fucking Fuji on the wall, even Zack finds it ridiculous.
And Chee asks Zack to do a backrub and of fucking course this happens.
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My god, you're aroused over the back of a woman. What bodypart hasn't Zack complimented yet? Teeth? Ears? Nostrils? Navel? Armpits? Fingernails? Elbows? Rectum?
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Oh, hands. Zack also compliments hands. God this comic is godawful
Anyways Chee now rubs the back of Zack and Zack doesn't wanna show his boner because he fears Chee considers him a creep. HAHAAHAHAAHAHAAHAHAHAHHA
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I keep forgetting other characters aren't exempted from dogshit dialogue.
She then massages Zack's cock, and then THIS HAPPENS
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PFFFFTHAHAHAHAHAHAHA, I guess Zack's eye is pregnant now, who am I kidding, nobody ever gets pregnant in this shit.
So will Zack praise his eye for being so sexy? I mean, he did cum on it. This is funny, I hope that happens to him anytime he does an inner monologue from now on.
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PFFFFT THIS GETS EVEN BETTER. Though I think him being shot in the eye with cum is funnier, I think getting sperm in your eye would be painful. And who the fuck is Osha?
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Then Chee does a sexy pose and...I have to say she doesn't look THAT bad. I mean, she looks way better without those ridiculous fucking poms and the lipstick. She is still not a fucking minotaur though.
Of course we can't have a sex scene without inner monologue
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And then Zack gets crushed by thighs, and we get another amazing visual of Zack's HEADLESS BLOODY CORPSE ON THE GROUND.
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If I knew any better I'd say Kraw wrote this chapter to please me, but nah, I only accept permanent deaths.
And then they have back sex. Yes, seriously, fucking BACK SEX.
There are times I feel Kraw is playing too safe, and then he throws this thing into the mix which is so overly specific I don't think anyone but him likes it. And then Zack's dick breaks.
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And then we end on this note, I have no clue what this means. I guess Zack died, I wish that was true.
Yes, this chapter was probably the best chapter in the entire comic thus far. The amount of Zack abuse we got actually made it kind of funny. Maybe this will become a running gag and reading this comic will become easier!
Sadly, next chapter proved me wrong, hard.
Issue 14: Tongue of the Fat Cat
Zack hears that a new coffee shop has opened which is ran by a cat girl.
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Haha, everyone knows Worky Zark can't draw furries, or Kraw doesn't allow him to.
Zack is of course excited as once again his inner monologue takes over. He even calls catgirls NE Plus Ultra of catgirls, what the fuck does that mean?
Oh wow, that is an actual statement, not a reference to anything. I don't get Zack's excitement over catgirls, he has banged minotaurs, eldritch horrors, dullahans, centaurs and dickgirls. Catgirls are just girls with EARS AND A TAIL. At least the other girls I mentioned have some specific traits to them.
Zack goes to investigate and oh no, she is fat!
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Fat??? FAT??? Godfuckingdamn it Kraw you did it AGAIN. Yeah this page gets another CoCC tag. How the fuck has Kraw forgotten what HYPER is? Or maybe Worky Zark can't draw fat chicks, nah, you know this was 100% asked and detailed and refined by Kraw.
And this doesn't look anything like a cat. It looks more like a fox or squirrel, what with that poofy tail and that weird orange shade that doesn't match any cat aside cartoon ones like Garfield. You're fucking a human female Garfield, Zack. I hope you're proud.
Of course, she is a stranger and she shows her ass to this boy and of course Zack goes nuts.
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Her name is "Fatcat", although she ISN'T FUCKING FAT and of course Zack thinks basic self-awareness is sexy.
So Zack is now working for Fat Cat, and they have a little bit of sexual tension which is expected.
And then of course, Fat Cat gets stuck somehow and Zack has to grab her booty so she can shove her. So typical. You know, some of you may think that I am complaining about porn comic having porn comic situations, but this situation is so fucking forced even by porn comic standards. "As a boss, I am ordering to shove my booty!" In any other porn comic instead of her getting stuck she would've just asked Zack to grab her ass because you know she fucking hired Zack despite Zack having no work experience, of course she's gonna fuck him.
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You know, like this. Yeah, after Zack gets her out of the frame, she asks for belly rubs. This is not cat behaviour, cats objectively HATE bellyrubs. I know because I have a cat, and giving her a bullyrub is like a death sentence!
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She is not fucking fat. Nurse Rapist is a woman, Cheenotaur might be moe, Hua might be modest but she is not fucking fat.
And then of course, Fatcat reveals her massive granny panties which she throws at Zack's face. Maybe it's me but I just don't fucking find panties to be sexy and I don't know why anyone else does.
She is now naked and Zack bangs that Female Human Garfield ass as expected. The End.
⭐⭐⭐
This was the usual MGA trite, we have the fat girl whose boobs and ass are only fat and she finds Zack hot and they bang. That's it. She doesn't look like a cat, I think Kraw just finds female human Garfield hot. I am not going to kinkshame that but least you could do is ask Worky Zark to learn how to draw fat chicks before you call her fat. Oy vey...
Anyways, this was gonna go on for a lot longer but tumblr image limit crashed my plans. I will continue anytime I am in a bad mood.
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thesylphroad · 2 years
Text
Inner Monologue Shitpost Breakdown A.K.A. Review of Chapter 3 of "A Court of Thorns and Roses"
Commence chapter 3
The dynamic trio are goin’ on a road trip. No actually they’re just walking to the other side of the village. Now that I have a little context, I know that Nesta and Elain are just upper east side it-girls who fell on hard times and can’t seem to acclimate to the humiliating new lifestyle of being poor, and my only thought is: we should do this to more rich girls.
So, Patty and Selma think they’re too good to walk along the dirty cart road, but who’s really surprised considering these two are…mostly terrible. We learn that Nesta actually did get up and chop wood this morning, even after her refusal in the last chapter. Is this…is this a redeeming quality for sister Nesta??? Feyre immediately follows this up with the suspicion that this was simply so she could leech some coin from her sister’s pony-wolf pelt, and I believe her, because why would she lie?
Feyre has a flashback to a time when they weren’t too poor for spices, and just as she’s about to suggest they indulge for old time’s sake they get stopped by a group of religious fanatics (never a good sign in a fantasy world). Not sure whether these guys are more Jehovah Witness or Manson Family, but they call themselves “Children of the Blessed.” Turns out they worship the High Fae. Given what we know about the High Fae thus far, that seems unwise. Narrator agrees.
The implication here is that these guys just sort of blindly revere the High Fae, even though it seems like they aren’t actually directly affiliated with them. Their objective seems to be just…spreading the word that they are good and just and hoping they get kidnapped and smuggled over the border??? I’m gonna remain nonpartisan but I can’t help but notice the Children of the Blessed are wearing real silver and the haters aren’t so…maybe we should hear these guys out.
Head acolyte is persistent, but Nesta goes full Blair Waldorf on her, and even though she thinks her sister’s approach is a bit cunty, Feyre chooses not to intervene. We learn that a bunch of the townsfolk, including Nesta, wear iron jewelry to deter the Fae. Other onlookers get involved presumably because the Children jingle wherever they walk, and the peanut gallery just starts launching epithets. “Faerie-loving whore” sounds like my kind of job title, but I digress. Head acolyte is like, “Noooo u guys got it all twisted, my cousin has a friend who is currently over in the faerie realm living it up right now as we speak.” Nobody believes this. Acolyte’s cousin’s friend is probably dead.
Feyre takes note of how clean and well-dressed these fanatics are, which begs the question, who is FUNDING these guys? More importantly, it brings us back to a recurrent theme where she associates qualities like ignorance and ineptitude with PURITY. Remember how just last chapter she points out how clean the faces of her sister and father are? We see this again in the way she notes the clean faces of these religious zealots. Her inner monologue tells us she doesn’t AGREE with them, she’s like “well everyone knows they’re worshiping OVERLORDS, not gods” but here again she prefers her pedestal where she alone knows the truth.
This chapter’s other big overarching theme is about challenging the status quo. We have the cult of zealots, demonized for worshiping the Fae, which obviously goes against everything we know to be sensible and sane. Next we have Feyre, who takes a risk and approaches the least trustworthy option when selling her pelts (possibly due in part to the fact that the other two vendors kind of openly dismiss her before she has time to approach them). Finally we have the mercenary, who breaks tradition by Not Being a Bad Guy (and also not lowballing her).
This chapter reinforces the idea that not only is Feyre brave, she’s also nonjudgmental, in a way her sisters and most of the other people in the village are not. And it pays off, in this instance. She also has a considerable bit of pride; she is reluctant to accept the mercenary’s pay because she feels it’s more an act of charity, and she tries to balance the scales by throwing in some of her dad’s wood carvings, but—as we discussed before—there’s like zero demand for these things and she literally can’t even give them away.
The mercenary imparts us with old school RPG NPC wisdom, by sharing the dangers she’s had firsthand with the Fae, teaching us what a martax is, and showing off a badass battle scar. We learn that this region, despite standing right on the borders of faerie land, has no standing army to defend itself against this sort of thing.
We are interrupted by Nesta dragging Feyre away and telling her not to talk to mercenaries because they’re dangerous brutes. This seems kind of like the whole point (and also a necessary quality) of a mercenary, but then we learn Nesta and Elain actually got ROBBED by one of those a while back. To be fair, Nesta and Elain both kind of suck, so I can’t say I blame them too much.
There’s a chance run-in with Isaac and we learn this kind of awkward clumsy halfhearted thing they have going on is awkward clumsy and halfhearted. They plan a barnyard romp for later by like, initiating the secret head nod, but tragically I’m not sure whether they actually get to have said romp because after dinner the narrator and her terrible family become the victims of a home invasion. Stay tuned for more on THAT.
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wordsnstuff · 4 years
Text
Guide to Writing in First Person POV
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Patreon || Ko-Fi || Masterlist || Work In Progress
Practice & Adjustment
When you’re new to writing in first person, or you’re returning to the practice after not having done so for a long time, it can be difficult to adjust to the style. It’s a big shift to go from writing from third person, a relatively straight-forward perspective, to first person. First person introduces a whole new set of elements to consider when writing. Bias, reliability of their memory versus the objective truth versus the other characters’ memory of the same events, and motivation. Motivation is especially tricky when it comes to the first-person narrative because you have to sort out not only what happens and how it effects the characters/plot but why the narrator is including it, and how their personal perspective changes the way you’re depicting the events. The best way to adjust to this style is to practice. One of my personal favorite ways to practice is through low-stakes writing. Fanfiction, short stories, personal retellings of my own experiences like diary entries, etc. These are all methods of story-telling that are typically short-form and allow you to naturally familiarize yourself with the characteristics of a first-person narrative.
Including Backstory & Context
When you’re writing in first person, it’s important to consider that certain characteristics of the narrator’s perspective won’t make sense to the reader or adequately add to their reading experience until you apply the relevant context. Personal experiences, values, motivations, and priorities all influence how a person tells a story, and in order to write a good first-person narrative, you need to have a grasp on these things. The reader needs to understand them as well. Perhaps some of these things are deliberately omitted from the reader’s awareness,. If a narrator’s motivations, for example, are going to remain a mystery until the end, you must deliver a satisfying conclusion that establishes to the reader why that choice was made. It’s generally a good idea to introduce this information early on. Backstory and personal context are essential to the foundation of a first-person narrative. 
Developing Secondary Characters
Developing secondary characters can be a challenge in this point of view because you’re solely focused on the lens of an individual. The other characters in the story will therefore be established to the reader based on what the narrator thinks, feels, and tells of them. Many writers feel concern about creating well-rounded secondary characters in a first person narrative because everything the reader sees must be witnessed by the narrator. However, this can be an advantage. A secondary character’s arc forms more naturally because it’s being observed organically through the eyes of another. The narrator makes observations for the reader to interpret alongside them. The reader may not have extensive knowledge of the specifics that cause a change in the characters, but they are more intuitively informed by the secondary characters’ behaviors and reactions to the narrator and whatever the narrator can see. 
Distinctive Voice
You must be deliberate in the way you construct the narrator’s consciousness. It’s imperative that you be somewhat in-character while you write in first person because their thought process must be consistent throughout the storytelling. What are they likely to notice or fixate on when they’re experiencing or recounting events? What is likely going through their heads? What causes alarm or comfort and how is this reflected in the vocabulary or tone they use in description? A distinctive voice is a major part of developing your perspective character, so approach it with intention. 
Depict, Don’t Report
It’s just as easy in first person as it is in third person to fall into the habit of reporting events rather than depicting them. Reporting is when the narrative consists of “she said this” or “he felt this” or “the weather was bad”. Depicting is recounting the events with style and deliberate detail that constructs a tone and absorbs the reader. “He cast his eyes downward and kicked at the rocks on the path.” “A shadow fell over the café as clouds inched across the sun, “I love you,” he said. “I know,” I whispered. My eyes refused to lift from the condensation on the glass before me.” That’s the difference. Vocabulary, syntax, and deliberate detail absorbs the reader. 
Common Struggles
~ How do I avoid starting every sentence with the word “I”?... Intimate vocabulary & diverse sentence structure. When a scene consists of too many sentences that begin with the word “I”, that’s a good indication that you’re telling rather than showing. Detail should be interspersed and create some distance from the narrator’s inner monologue. Use vocabulary that bring the reader in and vary the construction of your sentences. This often becomes easier when you set aside time to focus on the practice of technical writing skills, rather than the practice of storytelling. 
~ How do I maintain consistent tense (past vs present) while writing from the first person perspective?... Practice. A lot of narrative skill and consistency comes with practice. Devoting time to a focused practice of maintaining consistent narrative tense at the same time as telling a story in first person is immensely helpful. Set aside time before and during the drafting process to practice your skill in this. Once you’re comfortable and zoned into these mechanics, you won’t have to think about it that much. It’s like muscle memory. 
~ How can I identify biases the character might have in relation to the events they’re recounting?... Analyze their motivations. Analyze their relationships to the other parties involved, and how that may influence what they focus on and what language they would use to describe the other characters’ actions. A lot of this nuance comes in the second draft and editing stages, but initially these two things are essential to writing a sturdy, foundational first-person narrative draft. 
~ What techniques can I use to keep the POV character’s voice unique & consistent?... Include deliberate trends in vocabulary, thought process, and focus. This is where their personality shines through their words. Are they more likely to notice the weather or the traffic when they first step out of their home? When having an argument, are they more likely to apply context to the other person’s tone or their body language?
~ How do I avoid accidentally making the POV character omniscient?... Get in character and don’t repeatedly remind yourself of things that you as an author know, but you as a narrator do not. If you as a narrator know that a secondary character is upset during a scene for reasons the POV character isn’t aware of, it’s important to walk the line of first person observation and omniscient foreshadowing. Question often why you’re including details in description, and if the answer is ever information that the POV character doesn’t know yet, it’s probably best to cut it out. 
Other Resources
Pros & Cons of Different Points of View
Resources For Describing Characters
Resources For Describing Emotion
Connecting To Your Own Characters
Giving Characters Distinct Voices in Dialogue
 Introducing Secondary Characters
Tips on Character Consistency
Tackling Subplots
Resources For Describing Physical Things
How To Develop A Distinct Voice In Your Writing
Balancing Detail & Development
Showing VS Telling in First Person POV
Showing Vs Telling
Describing emotion through action
Improving Flow In Writing
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matsbarzal · 3 years
Note
Can you do 2 from the soul mate list with Josh Anderson please? He seems like a guy who has a never ending inner thoughts
au #2. you can hear your soulmate in your head... and god is he annoying
word count: 1.1k pairing: Josh anderson x reader
The voice inside of your head had been there for years, constantly chirping around in the background, dropping its input when it believed it was relevant, constantly chatting away, whether it was meant to be to itself or to you, who knows. It took a few years for the voice to really be able to articulate itself, remaining as just background noise inside your head for so many years before.
As the owner of the voice grew older, so did its prominence inside of your head. It was easy to put a name to the voice, Josh, as he called himself so often, constantly berating himself for things that made no sense to you.
Could’ve hit him harder, should’ve skated faster, do you even know how to hit the net? God, what a shit pass. Who even is this kid? I’m going to rip this guy’s head off soon.
The thoughts weren’t always violent, but it was a daily occurrence, usually an hour or two of insane thoughts that pushed you to wonder whether the owner of the voice was entirely sane.
You knew the stories, had heard it from all your friends, every soulmate pair was found differently. Some had matching marks, some were able to escape in each other’s dreams, and some were able to hear each other’s thoughts.
It didn’t take you long to realize you and your soulmate fit the latter of all the options. Josh’s thoughts inside of your head slowly began coming through more and more throughout the years, probably around the same time that yours start floating through his brain more and more.
Josh was… if you were to try and put it into words, Josh was something else. He obviously didn’t talk aloud to himself much, as everything he wanted to say was a passing thought that found itself swirling through your own brain.
The first day you met him, you were able to pinpoint the voice almost immediately. It wasn’t that it was an easily distinctive voice, similar to so many other men, but when you hear his thoughts on a daily basis, constantly swimming through your mind and annoying you, it was easy to pinpoint.
“You know, for the fact you complain that I think so much, you’re just as bad. Oh, should I buy this pink towel? Or this blue towel? Oh, but that lamp is so cute, maybe I should buy it instead. You’re the worst. I love you, but you’re the worst.”
It was something he said to you constantly, every time you mentioned that maybe he should think… a little less, or at least try to guard his thoughts from swimming into your brain.
The worst was when he realized he could cater his thoughts specifically so that you’d be able to hear what he chose. It was like he was constantly going out of his way to be the most annoying person he could be, even when he was thousands of kilometres away.
I swear to God if this motherfucker comes near me one more time, I’m going to enjoy taking the fucking penalty when I slash him in his ugly face.
Big Rig? Didn’t know Oleksiak played for the fuckin’ Bolts, news to me. Stupid fuck, two Stanley Cups my ass.
No fucking way! That was a goal? No fucking way. This kid.
Josh was always extra active during games, his thoughts, and the voice inside of your head going a mile per second, constantly chatting away to himself as he made split-second decisions. It was something that surprised you so much when you finally met Josh, because the personality he showed on the outside was not even close to the personality you constantly heard shouting through your head.
He was chatty, lively, and rarely shut up inside of your head, but yet, he was quiet, a bit more reserved in person.
Guys may see me cry if I don’t sink this puck.
Y/N do you hear me? I’m thinkin’ ‘bout you right now. When I get home can we go to a café? I wanna try this new coffee Eddy told me about, it’s like… frothy and shit.
Why are you ignoring me?
Are you asleep?
Sometimes your thoughts wake me up when I’m sleeping. Not all the time. Are you ignoring me? Do you hate me? Is that it? Our souls are connected you can’t hate me.
You’re the worst. I know you’re awake, you’re thinking about the coffee I was just talking about.
You visibly groaned as the sounds continued through your head, Josh’s voice rampaging through your thoughts, distracting you from the screen in front of you, the conference call a mere distraction to the sound of his voice. He always did this, ignored your thoughts in favour of his own, not paying attention to the fact you were just as busy, if not more, than he was.
Joshua, I’m in the middle of a work call. Please stop driving me nuts on purpose.
You hate me, it’s fine. I get it. I’ll just go to the café with Eddy.
Hearing the joking tone in his voice, you tried to tune him out and focus on the sound of your coworkers talking through the call. This was one of the things people with your soulmate abilities failed to mention, once the both of you were able to realize you could cater specific thoughts to the other, it was no holds bar. Josh always had an amazing time doing everything in his power to drive you nuts.
Not realizing how much time had passed, you heard the office door open, Josh pressing himself against the doorframe as he grinned at you. Turning your camera off, you swivelled your chair around, so you were staring directly at him.
“Oh, look who’s happy to see me for once,” rolling your eyes at his words, he moved forward so he could bend down and press a kiss to the corner of your lip as he eyed the computer screen in front of you in disdain.
“You were ignoring me for this? It’s a Saturday morning, babe.”
“Josh, you genuinely think so much. Even on Monday mornings, it’s like you never shut up. Does your brain ever stop? Like, how are your inner thoughts more annoying than you are?”
Pouting at you, Josh crossed his arms over his chest and mumbled incoherently, forgetting the fact that you could hear the words almost crystal clear in your head.
Sorry that I love talking to you.
Rolling your eyes again, you stood up and moved his arms away from his chest, pushing yourself against his body and wrapping your arms around his back.
“I love talking to you too, baby. But sometimes… you just gotta tone down the inner thoughts. Can’t focus on anything when I have your voice in my head.”
“Perfect, I’ll talk more then. Should be the focus of all your attention anyways.”
note: i truly never thought about it... but josh really does seem like the type of guy who just has the most annoying inner monologue. i hope this fit your request. thank you for sending one in!! <3
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whythinktoomuch · 4 years
Text
attempt #37
This was the 52nd formula that Lena had come up with, the 45th solution that she had to wait several hours to synthesize, but only the 37th time she was injecting her shoulder with the resulting concoction. 
It was bright green this time, which only made it seem all the more promising.
There’s a rush and some mild nausea that Lena had come to expect with the experiments, but everything else felt the same. For now. Setting the syringe aside, Lena called out, “Hope, think of a number between one and a million.” 
Then, for the 37th time, Lena tried. She cleared her own mind, practiced the meditative mantras, stared intently into Eve’s eyes, bright blue yet blank with Hope’s quiet disinterest, and... nothing. Not a single digit came to mind. 
No matter how hard Lena tried, the only thoughts in her head were her own. 
With an exasperated sigh, Lena rolled her sleeve back down and directed Hope to log their latest attempt as yet another failure before storming off to start her day. 
// 
Lena emerged from the laboratory with wrinkled clothes and dark circles sunken around her eyes, which was probably why the first thing she heard as she stepped out of the elevator was her personal assistant’s hushed commentary of, Oh sweet Jesus, she looks tired. 
“Oh, I’m well aware, Hector,” Lena said, lofty and without much malice. “Nothing a little coffee can’t fix though.” 
Hector stared at her blankly. “I’m sorry, Miss Luthor?” 
“Never mind,” Lena said, rolling her eyes. She took the outstretched coffee in question as she walked by the assistant’s desk. “Just hold all my calls until the afternoon, please.” 
This time, when Hector grumbled under his breath about wow, she must be grumpy too, Lena ignored it. There were better things for the CEO to tackle, after all; as for example, some fitful sleep on her couch, perhaps? 
Hours later, Lena was relatively well-rested, so she pored over her notes again, trying to pinpoint the exact variable she must have overlooked in her carelessness. Because by all accounts, the formula should have worked—Lena had been certain of it. But then again, she’d admittedly thought that of almost every attempt thus far. 
When Hector walked into her office at some point in the late afternoon with a handful of contracts to be signed, Lena felt no closer to the solution and a slight headache coming on.
“Is there anything else I can help you with?” 
“Another coffee would be great,” Lena said, as she sifted through the documents. 
“Oh my God, if she takes in any more caffeine, her heart’s going to literally explode...” Hector muttered to himself. “Well, maybe she won’t notice if I get her decaf instead...?” 
Lena dropped the papers onto her desk with a scoff. “You know I can hear you, right?” 
Hector appeared startled, which seemed rather appropriate until he slowly said, “So... was that a yes on the espresso?” 
“What?” 
Hector maintained his slow cadence, carefully enunciating every syllable as if he were repeating himself, “Did you want to stick with your usual order... or maybe go with an espresso... because it’s a little stronger?” 
But in a normal cadence, also in Hector’s voice and somehow clear as a bell in Lena’s head came, “If this woman doesn’t get another nap in pronto, she is going to drop dead, and everyone’s going to think I poisoned her coffee, because she’s always in—” 
Absolutely stunned, Lena continued to stare up at Hector in silence, eyes narrowing as the assistant’s slightly panicked voice droned on and on in her head. Until a louder remark broke through the reverie. 
“Whoa, did she just fall asleep with her eyes open?” 
Lena blinked quite obviously, and her mild shock was accompanied with a loud and clear, yet unspoken Oh, thank God! from Hector. 
But the Hector standing before her hadn’t moved his lips once, only watching the bewilderment play out on Lena’s face with some polite concern. 
“The usual’s fine,” Lena interjected before her assistant could press again. “Or the espresso, or whatever. I don’t care, as long as it’s still hot and caffeinated.” 
“You got it,” Hector said. 
“Definitely getting her decaf,” Hector thought as he turned to leave, but Lena hardly minded. She was too busy restructuring the rest of her day around this most exciting realization. 
After some quick bit of arithmetic in her head, Lena set a timer on her watch for five hours, which was presumably the amount of time it would take for her body to break down the serum and render it useless. Then she logged on to her private interface and happily directed Hope to re-record attempt #37 as a success. 
//
The ability to read minds was, quite simply, quite the advantage. 
Though it wasn’t so much “mind-reading,” as mind-receiving. The serum seemed to have granted Lena access to the loud and active thought processes of everyone around her—their inner monologue, if you will, everything put into words but left unsaid. 
Lena had been hoping for more, to be able to break into other people’s minds so as to hack secrets, determine why supposed close friends would ever betray her, and the like. Maybe that would come with time and practice. 
But as it turned out, there was rather plenty to be gleaned from the forefront of someone’s mind, as people often thought about the things they weren’t supposed to say before choosing more palatable means of expression. Which made the rest of Lena’s workday somewhat informative, if not a little fun. 
For one thing, Lena found out that a lot more of her employees enjoyed working for her than she had thought. All of them respected her, several feared her, and quite a fair few entertained invasive thoughts about her décolletage before swiftly directing their attention elsewhere. 
She also found out there was one board member in particular who liked to fudge the numbers during meetings, and that his face took on a very unappealing shade of off-white when Lena could inexplicably confront him with the actual results of his findings. 
But most importantly of all, what Lena found out was that... she actually enjoyed this heretofore inaccessible sense of control this ability afforded her. She had taken on the experiments for a very specific purpose, but now, it was difficult to even imagine going back to how things were, even after the fact.  
// 
Lena walked into the DEO, and for the first time, the outpouring of distrust attached to the Luthor name was all but imagined. The disparaging thoughts followed her, even as the people who had them smiled or averted their eyes as she passed. 
Nothing she wasn’t used to though. 
Alex’s voice slid into Lena’s head in a whisper—... the hell?—one whole minute before she actually greeted her, “Lena, hey... Well, can’t say that I was expecting you.” 
“Yes, that’s what it sounds like,” Lena mused, and Alex gave her a slight frown. 
“So, did you need something?” 
“Where’s Kara? I want to talk to her.” 
Alex’s carefully composed face betrayed no emotion, but her thoughts sighed heavily, “Of course...” before ebbing away into something entirely indistinct and indecipherable.
Lena blinked. She hadn’t encountered anyone whose thoughts weren’t immediately accessible to her before. But here Alex was, giving directions to Kara’s current whereabouts, all the while muttering some underlying commentary in tones so hushed that Lena couldn’t quite make out any of it. 
“... Is there something on my face?” Alex swiped her sleeve across her forehead. “What are you looking at?” 
“What? No, nothing,” Lena said brusquely. “Thank you for telling me where Kara is. Bye.” She turned on her heel, headed for the hallway that would eventually lead to the training room. 
“Well, that was weird...” Alex’s voice drifted after her, a literal afterthought. “But I mean, I guess she has a nice ass, so—”
Lena shot a dirty look over her shoulder, but Alex was already back on her computer, mind rattling off coordinates and running through tactical drills like a well-oiled machine. 
// 
Kara was wearing short shorts and a sports bra, panting, and absolutely drenched in sweat when Lena stepped foot into the training room. She looked over at Lena, her skin glistening against the dimmed green of the kryptonite-lined walls, and smiled wide. 
“Oh, hey! What are you doing here?” Kara asked, giving the punching bag one last jab before tugging her gloves off. "Did something happen or...? I mean, not that I’m not happy to see you, of course.” She flashed Lena another bright grin before pressing a towel to her face and neck and chest. 
It was enough to stop Lena in her tracks, and almost enough to put a damper on her plans. Almost. 
“I need to talk to you,” Lena said evenly, eyes glued firmly to Kara’s forehead. 
“Yeah, sure! Jeez... I’d give you a hug, but I’m like sweating in places I didn’t even know existed. Alex says that this is the only way to learn proper form and all, but wow. I can’t believe there are humans who actually do this for fun—” 
“Kara,” Lena cut in, lips pursing in exasperation. “I’m serious. We need to talk right now.” 
Kara blinked, then slowly nodded. “Okay, yeah, let’s talk... You wanna sit down?” 
“I prefer to be standing.” 
“Okay.” Kara remained standing as well, towel now crumpled in her hands. “So, what’s going on?” 
Lena took a deep breath, quickly running through the meditative techniques meant to keep her mind clear and open, then asked, “Why did it take you so long to tell me that you’re Supergirl?” 
Kara’s shoulders slumped. “Lena, I...” 
“No, why did it take three years? Why didn’t you trust me?” Lena continued, her pace steady and firm just like she had practiced. “I trusted you. I trusted you with every part of me, which is extremely difficult for me to do, and you just... didn’t care, I guess.” 
“Of course, I care. Lena... I never meant to hurt you,” Kara said insistently. Her voice was loud, emphatic, and at the moment, the only thing Lena could hear.  
“Don’t!” Lena snapped when Kara started to approach her. “Don’t come any closer. And stop talking! Just listen.” 
Kara exhaled sharply through her nose and raised her hands in tentative surrender in absolute, utter silence. Lena even paused for a beat or two, just to see if any of Kara’s thoughts would breach the surface, but none did. 
“Why couldn’t you just trust me, Kara?” Lena asked, and regrettably her voice trembled on the last syllable. “Why did I have to hear it from Lex?” 
Kara’s eyes widened. “Lex? Lex told you before I did?” 
“Shut up. Do not talk,” Lena hissed out, waiting for Kara to snap her jaw shut before continuing with a bitter laugh, “Do you, do you even trust me now...?” Kara stared, gaze hardening. “And how do you expect me to trust anything you have to say for yourself now?” 
Lena’s questions—all of the above and beyond—were met with silence, strained only by the sound of Kara’s heavy breath and Lena’s own thoughts. 
Scoffing, Lena threw up her hands. “Do you even care that you hurt me?” 
“... Can I talk now?” Kara demanded, seething like she had any right to it. But when Lena shook her head furiously, she held her tongue and apparently everything else as well, because Lena couldn’t hear a single damn thing. 
When the alarm on her watch went off, Lena left, slamming the door on her way out. She contacted Hope through their private channel and had her re-log attempt #37 as just another failure. 
Back to the fucking drawing board. 
(next part here)
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moominnyu · 3 years
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oblivious [kevin moon]
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🧸🎀 — pairings: kevin moon (the boyz) x gender neutral reader
🧸🎀 — tw: none.
🧸🎀 — wc: 3751
anyone who knows kevin to a personal level would be sorry for the guy, frustrated in his behalf even.
now, don't get me wrong, he's a handsome young man with a sweet personality, a nice car and good friends. he's a member of one of the hottest, on the rise k-pop boy groups, with a honeyed voice and great dance skills. he could probably bag anyone he wanted with minimal effort on his part, whether they work or not for the same industry as him. but the problem for kevin moon starts around someone who has little to nothing to do with the idol world.
you're kevin's friend, his little childhood friend from back when he was in america, and current best friend even here in korea. kevin's childhood friend who's only an university student, and knows as much about idols as you know about calculus— that is, nothing—, kevin's childhood friend who works part time in café, and still gets allowance from your parents, kevin's childhood friend who lives just three blocks from his dorm, who is so used to be by his side that you practically live at his dorm alongside his members. kevin's childhood friend who is... just his childhood friend and nothing more.
he's been on the unrequited love side of the spectrum for too long that his problem no longer relies on the fact that you guys are friends probably since you were both fetuses inside your mothers' wombs. he already felt this way about you when you lost your first tooth when you were six, even when you smiled at him with an incisor missing. he already felt this way about you when he taught you how to ride a bike at the park when you both were nine, even when you fell on your face and had a big bruise on your left cheek that remained on your skin for two weeks after that. he already felt this way about you when you turned fourteen and you stopped being a tiny shrimp and started looking more like what would later become his ideal type. he already felt this way about you when you guys were seventeen and he was starting his little youtube channel with one of his friends, and you would watch his videos with a genuine excitement that matched his. he already felt this way about you when you moved to korea together, not even knowing what was ahead of you but knowing that you had each other whatever happened.
he's been in love with you for way too long, so long that he already had every single inner monologue, argument, discussion and debate he could possibly have with himself about how absolutely wrong and criminal it is to have a crush, or rather, be in love with your best friend.  
he won in absolutely zero of these arguments against himself, as he always came to the conclusion that it was wrong, you two were friends and that's it, that you probably saw him only as a brother, if anything. but he had received his very needed push in the back by his members, now close friends of both of you, that insisted that it was normal: you were attractive, funny, sweet and a perfectly viable choice for him due to your closeness, anyone in his situation would probably be the same, and he would be a fool if he let go of the opportunity. with your looks and personality, you could get a partner anytime you wanted, and time was ticking for kevin, which, in turn, prompted him to act with you in mind, courtesy of sunwoo who mentioned he'd be the one making the moves if kevin didn't do it first.
and, so, it started, the tortuous process of courting.  
he didn't outright tell you he liked you, as he wanted to test the waters first, so he started with simple and minimal things, things that would go completely unnoticed by you unless you saw him as something more than a simple friend, unless you saw him in the same light as he saw you.  
hugging you a tad bit tighter and longer when he greeted you, getting leaves out of your hair or clothes for you, tentatively holding your hand when he wanted to guide you somewhere, placing his hands on your waist on hips when he walked past you; all little things that made his pale cheeks burn up a crimson color and his stupid, traitor heart beat uncontrollably against his ribcage... all little things that you remained completely apathetic to.  
“don't be afraid to up your game, hyung,” haknyeon had offered some advice, and as if it served as comfort to kevin, he had friendly palmed his back to show empathy for him, who sat with his head down, face hidden in his hands, “i think y/n is great! they definitely haven't noticed yet, and that's why they haven't said anything!”
it was another one of those nights where he was overcome with feelings, when the tug on his chest became too heavy and when the feeling of urgency became desperation. none of what he did was working out the way he wanted it to, and everytime he was left with more questions that answers: did you really blush when you brushed hands while reaching for the salt, or was it his mind playing tricks on him? were you really staring at him with such dreamy eyes when he was sketching or were you just spaced out? he could never tell.  
“well, that's obvious,” sunwoo retorted, plump lips on a straight line. he scratched his head and nudged kevin on the ribs, “you're the one who knows them best, you should that y/n had never had a partner before, it's likely they're just oblivious to your advances,”
an imaginary lightbulb flicked on on top of kevin's head at that moment when he realized sunwoo was right.
in all the years he's known you, you've never showed any kind of romantic interest in any person. it wasn't that you were short of suitors or admirers, quite the contrary, actually, you've had that sweet tendency to smile at everyone that happened to make eye contact with you since little, offer your help whenever needed and an ability to make friends with anyone in a matter of seconds. kevin was sure, during all his high school years, that the reason why he was liked was because of the halo effect, produced by the fact that he was always by your side.  
but, you, even with many suitors and secret admirers, never once brought up the topic of dating and crushes in front of kevin. he thought it was better that way, honestly, he's a bit more mature now but back when he was still a teenager, he was sure he wouldn't be able to take it if he heard you talking about another guy, all starry eyed and blushing. but that didn't mean he didn't feel curious about it.  
one time, against his own mental advices to just mind his business in case he ended up with a broken heart, kevin asked you about a guy in your class who he overheard your classmates teasing you about.
“oh, yeah, you mean james, right?” you sat on the floor of his bedroom, copying the answers from his textbook onto yours. you had bit your pencil and narrowed your eyes, thoughtfully, “i tutor him on sundays. nice guy.”
“i know who he is,” kevin answered, matter of factly, as he reclined back on his desk chair. he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose as some form of idle distraction from the unsteadiness of his heart, “i'm asking you why were your friends making kissy faces at you when he was talking to you.”
he had sounded more stern than he intended, but, then again, that moment was the very first time he ever saw you blush and fix your hair in front of a dude, the first time he saw you act shy around someone.  
“he invited me to prom last week,” you answered, continuing to write down on your notebook with your cute, pink gel pen, “and my friends think he likes me because of that.”
“how are you so sure that he doesn't like you?,” it's obvious he does, kevin thought, otherwise he wouldn't look like such a fool, stuttering and scratching his nape like an idiot everytime you two interacted. not that he's one to talk, though.  
“because he's just being nice to me,” you frowned, “he always is. he walks me home when you can't, invites me to get coffee after tutoring, he saves me a spot next to him when i'm late for class,” you didn't lift your head from your notes or ever stopped writing, that's how trivial james's acts of ‘kindness’ were for you, “he even gifted me chocolates last valentine's.”
that's crush behavior, kevin wanted to say, but he didn't. he didn't want to implant the idea in your mind, making you overly conscious about it and forcing you to end up confused about your own feelings. if you liked him back or not, he decided, was for you to find out on your own, unprovoked.  
“do you like him?,” but there he was, having to open his big mouth out of morbid, masochistic curiosity.  
you lifted your head, finally looking up at him with a raised eyebrow, “no?”
“then why were you blushing when he was talking to you?”
“because julia was making a big deal out of it,” you said, frowning with certain annoyance and embarrassment, “and because noah kept telling him we look so cute together.”
“no, you don't.” kevin chimed in, perhaps too fast for his liking.  
“that's what i'm saying! we're just friends!” you sounded a bit exasperated, probably tired from all the teasing, “just like you and me.”
thanks to sunwoo, remembering that useful, albeit painful, conversation served kevin to switch his approach around you. thinking about it, back then, it should have been his first clue about your lack of awareness. he discarded as simple, intentional obliviousness— he thought that james was so obvious about his crush, you might as well were just trying to ignore it and not acknowledge it to avoid having to awkwardly reject him; but this obliviousness of yours lasted even much, much after that, when you guys moved to korea together and the people you met there were equally interested in you but ended up receiving the same treatment of complete lack of interest. even eric had, at some point of your early friendship, when he had a pitiful crush on you that lasted a couple of months.  
with a new, more direct approach in mind, kevin moon hadn't given up yet.  
he began to make his hints a bit more obvious so that the wouldn't fly over your pretty, little head like the ones before did, and he was pleasantly surprised to find out that it worked with great efficiency.  
complimenting you every chance he could, both looks and personality wise, often mentioning how you're the only person to make him this happy, how his day gets better when he sees you.  
and alongside the not so subtle flirting, your reactions began to grow in intensity as well. instead of the usual, coy nudge you'd give him when he complimented your appearance, you'd purse your lips and look down when he'd say that he thinks you're absolutely stunning. you'd bite a smile, cheeks heating up, when he'd, purposely on accident, casually sit close to you while watching movies, both of your sides pressed against each other. when he'd press an unassuming kiss to your temple after dropping you back at your place, you'd lean into his touch for a bit longer than usual, and you'd look a blushy mess of shaky eyes and pursed lips once he did pull away. even when he wasn't trying, even when his focus was on something else entirely, the amount of times he'd catch you staring at him and then move your eyes away as soon as he noticed were too many for them to be a simple coincidence.  
all of these interactions made him hopeful, made him think that he did the right thing by slowly approaching you in a way that you felt comfortable with. by the time he decided to finally confess to you, he was so sure you were, at least, confused about it, that you were seeing him in a new light now and that you weren't sure how to act around it, and that was enough for kevin, he just needed to go past that friendship relationship and then he'd work the rest, with you.  
and with this realization came yet multiple other inner debates about how to go around the confession. should he prepare for it? invite you to a picnic at the beach and confess to you when you both are enjoying the sunset? or should he just be spontaneous? you've never liked anything too flashy, after all, and you valued honesty over anything else.  
he chose to just do it one day, chose a time when you two are alone and tell you normally like he would do with any other thing. after all, you two were best friends who could tell absolutely anything to each other with no shame, and his feelings for you didn't change this.
but, whenever he thought about finally doing it, whenever he practiced his exact words in his mind over and over again until he was confident enough he wouldn't stutter, the moment would get interrupted by outside forces. like younghoon deciding to watch a movie in the living room where you guys were at, just in time when kevin had said he had something to tell you, like sunwoo coming uninvited into his room when you two were finally alone, saying that he was bored and asking if you wanted to play mario kart together. or that one time when kevin had managed to build momentum in his favor, mentioning how much he appreciates you and how lucky he is to have you by his side unconditionally, and just as he was about to utter the three important words, your mom had the inopportune need to call you, at three a.m. in the morning, because she had a nightmare about you being swallowed by the kraken.  
being stuck in this predicament didn't dishearten kevin, though. he's wanted to tell you how he feels since forever, he wasn't gonna give up over a few unfortunate interruptions.  
the perfect time to do it comes spontaneously, unprepared, just like most of those peaks of inspiration he feels out of the blue somedays.  
tonight, you're staying the night at his. you had went grocery shopping earlier in the afternoon, and kevin bought the ingredients to bake you some brownies after your insistence and pleads, clinging to his arm and pointing at the deliciously looking pictures of them in the premade mixture boxes, so now you're sitting on the counter of his kitchen while looks for the ingredients in the frige, reading the recipe out loud for him from your phone while swinging your legs up and down.  
“a double boiler?”, kevin leaves the fridge door open when he walks up to you and leans in so that he can get a look at your screen, “what the heck's that?”
“it says here that it's a fancy term for a... small saucepan filled with an inch of two of water set over low heat,” you read out loud, then lifting your head with a confused grimace, “huh?”
“i don't know,” kevin kicks the door closed after retrieving the butter, shrugging and trying to pretend he didn't notice how you stared at his lips just a second ago, “i'm just gonna make that one old recipe, the one we know and adore.”
“yeah, i don't know why you felt the need to change it,” you set your phone down and hop down the counter to give him more space, “you know i just eat whatever you make.”
“you like your brownies a bit more fudgy, don't you?” he takes a bowl out of the cabinet, and places it right beside where you're standing. he offers you a smile, a bit shy but genuine, “and i like to spoil you.”
at that moment, sunwoo walks into the kitchen. he makes a small gesture of acknowledgement to you and walks past kevin to get to the fridge. you follow him with your eyes.  
“hyung, i'm heading out,” sunwoo grabs a water bottle and closes the fridge again. he stands by kevin and points at the bowl where he's wisking the eggs, taking a short sip of his water, “can you save me some brownies?”
“i'm not making these for you, you know,” kevin sighs.  
“just one, then,” sunwoo insists, eyebrows up and pout on his lips, “you know i love brownies.”
“i'll save you some,” you smile at the younger guy lightly, “where are you heading?”
sunwoo shrugs and scratches his nape, “had the sudden urge to go to the movies.”
“alone?” you inquire, trying to supress a laugh.  
“don't judge a man for his hobbies, y/n,” sunwoo flicks your forehead with little force, and kevin hates that ugly feeling in his gut when you giggle and poke your tongue at him, “gotta go now, i've already purchased my ticket.”
and with sunwoo leaving, everyone else out on individual schedules and chanhee dead asleep on his room, you both are, technically, left alone in the dorm for once and for all.  
kevin pretends to be too preoccupied with spreading the thick batter in the baking pan to notice that the perfect opportunity to do it is just unfolding in front of him. he knows that the reason why he keeps getting interrupted is because he likes to take his sweet time with it, dragging it out as much as he can so he can prepare his heart for it. he decides he's not gonna do that tonight.  
just as he opens his mouth, your phone dings on the counter. kevin busies himself with putting the baking pan in the oven while you reach for your phone with the spatula he used in your mouth.  
“who are you texting?” he asks once he notices your wide smile and soft giggles.  
“yurina, one of my uni classmates,” you lick your lips after you're done licking the batter off, tossing the spatula into the sink, “she's happy because she asked her crush to be her girlfriend,”
“and did she say yes?”
“well, she wouldn't be happy otherwise, don't you think?”
there's an one-sided awkward silence when kevin rests against the counter while staring at you intently texting back and forth with this girl from uni.  
a moment of doubt crosses his mind. should he really do it? something tells him he shouldn't, that he should just keep quiet, but he's been walking through this desert for so long ago that stopping now feels wrong when he can practically see water in front of him.
love gives him a push in the back.  
“what about you?” he asks, and he internally cringes at the way his voice cracks a little at the end. he clears his throat, “i mean, are you interested in anyone?”
your thumbs stop typing suddenly, and you remain frozen for a moment, staring at your screen. you're blushing a little when you slowly lift your eyes towards him, and he mirrors such expression when his hopeful heart does a little flip.  
“why—why are you asking all of a sudden?”, your voice sounds tiny and you look a bit doubtful of him.  
“well, you never tell me about stuff like this,” he scratches his eyelid as he looks down at his shoes. the awkwardness is almost painful, and he's sure he isn't the only one feeling it right now, “is it someone you can't tell me?,” he makes a small pause in which he lifts his eyes from the ground and looks at you, “a close friend, maybe?”
silence fills the kitchen. the hen shaped cooking timer clicks as it counts down the minutes for the brownies to be ready, hour phone pings with new upcoming messages, the tv in chanhee's room makes deaf noise in the backround, yet, none of you talk.
when you refuse to meet his eyes that come looking for you, biting the inside of your cheek and looking down, kevin realizes he's going to be the one who breaks it, unfortunately.
“did i hit the jackpot?,” perhaps he sounds hopeful, or perhaps the silence was too loud that his voice now seems to over-volume it.  
you finally look up from the floor, “why am i the only one being interrogated?,” you sound a little more like yourself when you block your phone and cross your arms on your chest, lips pouty and the tip of your ears a little bit red, “you also never tell me anything about stuff like that!”
“i'll tell you if you want,” he murmurs, trying to analize your reaction, “if you tell me first.”
in the heart fluttering moment, odds are in his favor, he knows. it's on the way you look at him through your eyelashes, shy and maybe even a bit flustered, the sugar rush on his veins at the sight of your blush, ever telling of your feelings. because he knows you so well he knows that his hunch is right, it's because of your connection that he can feel that it's no longer one-sided, that, as much as he feels for you, you feel for him.  
“why don't you,” you make a small pause to press the back of your hands to your hot cheeks, “why don't you say it first, then?”
“how about we say it at the same time?,” even in his certainty there's still cautiousness, as if he needs confirmation even if he can read your heart, “at the count of three.”
“okay,” you smile at him with warmth, gentle, still laced with a shyness that makes your eyes a bit glossy, and it's the prettiest thing kevin has ever seen, “one.”
“two.” he says, his heart on a frenzy, mind a bit hazy with quiet excitement for what's about to come.  
“three!” you both say, and there's a small pause before any of you continue:
“you!”
“sunwoo!”
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outrunningthedark · 3 years
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Do you think ana knows that the reason Eddie had a panic attack was because of her? I mean it happened right after the mom thing and she must have seen his discomfort, plus it got worse at the hospital. If I was her, I’d ask myself a lot of questions because yeah one thing is knowing that Shannon cannot be replaced which I’m sure she knows that but another is having this reaction (Eddie) and saying she was just a friend just to calm him down. And I’m also curious if when they arrive at the end of the relationship, she will be going to tell her something about him being tormented and having his heart occupied by someone else or something similar, If she noticed ofc
At first, I read this and was prepared to offer up the "she probably thinks it's related to his unresolved PTSD" considering her uneasiness when discussing the sniper, but the more I think about it, she SHOULD be able to figure this out for herself, right? Eddie walks away from her after that awkward interaction and the next thing she knows he's on the floor gasping for air. The fact that he suffered a panic attack, NOT a heart attack, is an even bigger clue. Eddie didn't collapse because of a malfunctioning heart. He was overcome with intense anxiety and fear...directly after a stranger assumed she was his son's mother. I know Ana's specialty is English, but it doesn't take a mathematical genius to put two and two together. I'll even take this a step further and say there's a possibility she was already making the connection during the hospital scene. "It's been great, right?" *Ana's inner monologue while silently staring back* "Is it? You were just in physical pain at the idea of us being a family." I, too, am curious how their breakup will unfold. I'm willing to bet that as of right now Ana is trying to convince herself Eddie's health scare was a one-off and she has nothing to worry about because she wants this to work so bad. (They're perfect for each other...on paper. Why isn't it working?!) Once it becomes obvious that Eddie's issues remain unresolved, one or both of them will have to face a harsh truth. (I'm rooting for both!)
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youtifulhobi · 3 years
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I Want You to Love [Teaser]
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Warning: this is part 2 of I Want You to Lie. If you haven’t read the first part, I highly recommend reading it first, because there are spoilers abound in this teaser. This also contains spoilers for both parts of Glitter and Disquiet, written by @joheunsaram
Teaser Warnings: descriptions of a car crash, mentions of death, hospitals
Do not redistribute or plagiarise on any other platforms (including but not limited to wattpad, youtube, instagram, facebook).  I only use tumblr and AO3 as of the time of posting.  If I find my work plagiarised or redistributed without consent, I will not hesitate to take legal action.
~
The first thing you heard was the steady beeping of a heart monitor nearby. It was loud enough that you unconsciously focused on it, but quiet enough that it didn’t annoy you or induce a headache. In a way, it was relaxing, and it gave you a way to count time that had passed, though you lost count somewhere around 500.
You felt sleepy, but something niggled at the back of your mind, not wanting to be forgotten. You tried to focus on it, but it was like chasing a shadow. No matter how desperately you shifted through your memories, the thought that escaped you remained distant. You eventually gave up, the pull of slumber too strong for you to resist.
I should...probably sleep...anyway..., you thought sleepily, an exhausted tone tingeing even your inner monologue.
~
You didn’t know how much time passed as you drifted in and out of sleep, only vaguely aware of the environment around you.
There were times where you weren’t sure whether you were dreaming or awake, somewhere in between, but each time, sleep called out to you, enveloping you into its warm embrace.
Sometimes you dreamed, sometimes you didn’t. Oftentimes, you dreamt about Hobi and what it felt like to be blissfully in love, unaware of what it was like to have your heart broken. Sometimes, you dreamt of Jungkook and the way his eyes widened in fear that fateful night.
You heard a lot of rain whilst your eyes were closed, and the sound usually soothed nightmares that threatened to overwhelm you. Sometimes, you felt a warmth on your hand, squeezing your fingers. Though you tried desperately to return the favour, your body wouldn’t cooperate, too exhausted to do anything but rest.
~
You hummed as you drove, half listening to the piano cover of Jungkook’s favourite song, half listening to your Bunny prattle on about his girlfriend.
Despite the severity of the situation, you smiled to yourself. You were lucky to have someone like Jungkook in your life. He provided something for you to work for when life became too suffocating, a means to stay afloat when you felt like you were on the edge of giving up. In a way, you’d even go as far to say that he saved you as much as you did in high school.
Lost in your memories, you didn’t notice Jungkook screaming until it was too late, and you watched in horror as a truck sped towards you, the driver leaning on the horn, wearing an identical expression of panic. You swerved desperately, wanting to protect the light in your life, but it was too late.
You could only watch in horror as the truck plowed into the head of your car and Jungkook disappeared from view.
A sickening crunch sounded as bones shattered, though you weren’t sure whose body was being broken. You didn’t care at that moment. All you wanted to know was if your Bunny still had a chance of living, but as you reached out a hand in his direction, you somehow already knew your worst fear had come true.
Your Bunny was gone, and it was all your fault.
~
A/N: I’m sorry you had to wait so long for a teaser! I’m posting this to let you know that I’m still working on IWYTL and that I haven’t forgotten about Candy and Hobi <33 (and Bunny)
I don’t know how long it’ll take for this to be written since there’s so much I want to cover, but I can promise that it’ll be worth the wait!
Tag List:
@subtlepjiminie @wickizer @kaepjjangiya @sunnysidesblog @fangirl125reader @thesnowinrome @jimilter @hobi-ton @mochimochie​
Send me a DM or an ask if you’d like to be tagged when I release the full fic!
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