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#joining this event is genuinely one of the best things to have happened in a long time
hella1975 · 1 year
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all hate to tiktok for taking 'having a space to more openly and actively talk about different cultures' to mean 'cultures are NOT to be shared and we must be vigilantly defensive of our cultures for fear of appropriation, a word that can be applied to any multicultural interaction'. like of course cultural appropriation is a very real problem but ive seen with the access to global multicultural conversation that tiktok provides it's made people TERRIFIED to even interact with cultures other than their own for fear of 'doing it wrong'. like at some point you have to acknowledge that in the real world of the great outdoors, the majority of people are eager to SHARE their cultures. yes there are ignorant questions and biases but also... how do you think those things get unlearnt? i dont understand how deciding that multiculturalism is an elephant in the room instead of a normal thing that should just be talked about and lived with is supposed to benefit anyone? and kids on tiktok are CONVINCED that it's a time bomb of a conversation to have and therefore must be avoided at all costs but like. people generally LOVE their home and their culture and are PROUD of it and want to share it. how have we made it so that showing genuine interest and a desire to understand something so integral to a person's identity is now feared and borderline demonised?
#thinking about this a lot lately. thinking about how fun it was comparing cultural differences in america#thinking of how when i was homesick one thing i found a great comfort in was talking about my home#and how it differed and i really loved and appreciated it when people would ask me about england#in a way that they genuinely just wanted to learn about it and not to take the piss#thinking about how the kitchen at work has chefs from all over europe. we have an irish chef and a spanish chef and an italian chef#and one of the kps is from eastern europe (i havent actually been able to find out where yet) etc and the way they banter with each other#like usually chefs are Problematic bc their humour is VERY abrasive and usually offensive#but this is one instance where it's actually to their benefit bc they're so unafraid to ADDRESS THE FACT THEY HAVE DIFFERENT CULTURES#i feel like the tiktok gen are so petrified of even acknowledging other cultures let alone discussing them#that it's actually sending the conversation backwards. like how does hoarding your culture and pretending it's not there benefit anyone#LET ALONE YOU AND THE CULTURE IN QUESTION. idk it just baffles me a bit that something that started as people on tiktok#genuinely spreading information and talking about the BAD side of this where people DO culturally appropriate or invade spaces that arent#theirs has now become 'for fear of speaking bad about it we will not speak about it at all'. and they'll crucify you if you do. like what#even at uni my best mate is indian and she's too scared to join the sikh society on her own so i regularly go to the events with her#and im typically one of the handful (or the only) white non-sikh there and i get SO welcomed each time#like there's such a genuine excitement to share the culture with someone who is effectively a blank slate#and like yeah ill ask 'dumb' questions or i'll have different experiences (tried a samosa for the first time at one of these events#and the moment that info got out i had like five STRANGERS trying to give me different samosas to try and it was genuinely such#a laugh bc yes they were TEASING me bc 'how have you never had one' but they were also really eager to share MORE as a result)#ugh idk what im saying. i just think it's a shame to watch this happen in real time on the internet#when if people would just go outside and actually TALK to people from other cultures they'd realise 9 times out of 10 the interactions#are actually really really nice for BOTH parties. and actually refusing to talk about this stuff is long-term pretty fucking detrimental#and it also goes the other way!!! like imagine if i - citizen of colonisation motherland herself - didn't interact with other cultures#and didnt ask questions or hear their opinions on whatever shared history we have from THEIR POINT OF VIEW#imagine the kind of shit id be internalising bc i only hung out with other white british people. it wouldnt matter if i was doing it#to be woke or 'respect their culture'. it would still be fucking ignorant. like half my interactions with other cultures#see me as the butt of the joke bc of this like aforementioned irish chef at work VOCALLY slates the english all the time#but it's done in an environment where we're FRIENDS and it's poking fun at each other while still addressing a very serious history. like??#idk if any of this is worded in a way that makes sense but yeah. i have thoughts#cant believe i got inspired to make an actually serious post bc of the CHEFS AT WORK. embarrassing. no one let them see this
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Evening plans: lay on the floor and have Feelings about a Discord server apparently
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bookyeom · 4 months
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pairing: seungkwan x reader word count: 2.8k warnings: a couple of swears, Seungkwan’s not mad he’s disappointed, kissing
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Author's Note: this fic is part of the Thirteen Valentines event, but can be read as a standalone! also, i would suggest listening to the song listed below to get a feel for the vibe of the fic, but it's not necessary.
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hype boy by new jeans
i know what you like boy you’re my chemical hype boy
i’m not looking for just fun maybe I could be the one
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You don’t know why you called him. 
Well, you do know why, but even in your inebriated state, you still vaguely know that you probably shouldn’t have.
You haven’t seen Seungkwan in over a week. He looks mad when he enters the bar to find you, and you know you deserve it. When he opens his car door and helps you in, you expect him to start lecturing you, to complain about your lack of responses to his texts and calls, anything — but he doesn’t say a single word.
That makes it so much worse. 
When he’s annoyed, your friend can complain for hours (when Chan ate the last of his yogurt just last week, you hadn’t heard the end of it for days). But when Boo Seungkwan is genuinely hurt and angry about something serious, he stays eerily quiet. You’ve seen it happen, but you’ve never, ever been on the receiving end of his silent treatment before. 
And it terrifies you. 
After you’ve climbed into his passenger seat as gracefully as you can manage, you can’t help but stare at him while he reaches to do up your seatbelt. He’s always been soft like that with you — doting, caring, kind. This time, you don’t think you deserve it. You know you’ve really hurt him, but the alcohol mixing up your brain can’t figure out how to fix any of it right now. 
“Can you please sit still, I swear to god—”
You barely hear him with how hard you’re staring. You dazedly note that his hair has gotten a bit longer at the ends. It falls softly into his eyes as he huffs at you, trying his best to shake the strands away so he can see while his hands are busy trying to clasp your belt in. You hate when he’s struggling, and he’s pouting now, and that just won’t do —
So you lift a hand to help him. You brush the hair out of his eyes, and it takes you a second to realize that he’s stopped moving. You meet his gaze, your hand falling to brush over the soft roundness of his cheek.
“You’re so pretty,” you whisper, and you think you hear his breath catch, but you don’t know why. You only said it because it’s true. Because you wanted him to hear it.
You also want to kiss him — so you do. Even though you think he might hate you right now.
It’s barely there, a soft press of your mouth to his, and you pull away before he can react. He stares at you, mouth open just a little, and your eyes are wide as you stare back.
Then he removes your hand from his face, clicks your seatbelt into place, and promptly shuts the car door.
Oh.
You can feel tears begin to prick at the back of your eyelids, and you rapidly blink to try and keep them away. You keep your face turned from him, even as he gets in and starts the car, even when he asks you if the temperature is okay and you just hum in response.
Your brain can’t form thoughts of anything but rejection as he drives you the rest of the way home in silence. You’re drunk, and you’re embarrassed, and honestly? By the time he pulls up into your visitor parking spot, you’re a little bit angry, too.
You were trying to mend things, to kiss and make up or whatever it is they say, and he had rejected you. You can’t help the few hot, frustrated tears that slip down your cheek.
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You’d met Seungkwan the year before. You’d finally worked up the nerve to join your university’s badminton team, and he’d been the first one to pull you in for a rally with his teammate. He’d helped you meet your future partner that day, too. You hadn’t wanted to admit it then, but you’d been pretty smitten with him from the start.
And it had only gotten worse from there. 
You saw Seungkwan at practice once a week at first, which quickly turned into twice a week when the two of you would practice after hours. Soon enough, you were hanging out on weekends, too, and then hanging out with each other’s friends. You’d been able to push your little crush down for the most part, not wanting to even go down that road when he was one of the best friends you’d made in a while. 
Then you’d been selected for the MVP tournament at the end of the semester, and you still remember the moment it had all hit you like a fucking train. 
You knew Seungkwan had an exam the day of your final game, and even though he said he’d make it, you hadn’t expected him to actually run across campus to get to you in time. And when you’d heard your name and found him in the crowd, sweaty from the exertion of his jog, you’d been so happy you could have cried.
When your partner had scored the winning shot, it took mere seconds for Seungkwan to find you on the court. You were swept up into a hug that had the air whooshing from your lungs. When he’d pulled away, he’d been grinning from ear to ear, swaying you from side to side playfully by your shoulders.
You’d known it then — that you loved him. 
He was always cheering you on. In badminton, in your academic life, when you tried to keep up with him at karaoke — he was your biggest fan, period. He believed in you, and that meant everything. 
“Are you okay?” Seungkwan’s eyebrows had furrowed, his smile falling as he gave you a concerned once over. “Did you get hurt?”
You shook your head, trying desperately to form words that made any bit of sense so you could get away from him for a minute and just breathe. “Just exhausted,” you managed, and to your relief, all he did was nod in understanding. 
“Go shower, get changed and then go home and sleep,” he’d instructed. Usually, his mother bear instincts would have made you smile, but you couldn’t force it then. He had let you go with one more squeeze to your biceps, a hand lifting in a wave as he backed up, before turning around and jogging back over to the rest of his friends. You had been completely frozen in place as you’d watched him go, unable to move until one of your teammates called your name. 
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You hate that Seungkwan knows the code for your door. 
You hate that he treats your apartment like it’s his,  that he knows where everything is, that even though he’s obviously still upset with you — and even though you’re upset with him — he still helps guide you to your bathroom to wash up, still leaves pajamas for you outside your bathroom door.
You hate that he takes care of you, because you want it to mean what it so obviously doesn’t. 
He’s sitting at your desk when you finally climb into bed, avoiding all eye contact as you pull up the covers. You can feel Seungkwan hesitate before he speaks.
“Do you need anything else?”
You hold back a sigh. “No.”
“You sure?”
“I said no.”
Your eyes meet his pointedly. Seungkwan’s eyebrows raise, and you raise yours right back. It’s him that lets out a sigh, running a hand through his hair as he stands up. 
“Okay.” He takes a step toward your door before he pauses, and his eyes meet yours again as he adds, quieter, “We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?”
“Whatever.” Your voice is small, and you can hear his sharp intake of breath. 
“Y/N.”
You don’t respond, rolling onto your side and away from him. It's quiet for a second, and you wait with bated breath for him to say something else, but he doesn’t. He just turns the light off, and closes the door. 
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After your terrible realization at the championship game, you’d completely avoided Seungkwan — plain and simple. There’s no way of getting around that truth. You’d been scared and embarrassed, and you’d known that even just one look at him would have ruined you. You wish you could say you were brave, but you’re a coward — you know you are.
And so all of his calls and texts had gone unanswered — for an entire week. 
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When you wake up, you don't feel great, but you don’t feel as bad as you’d expected. Your head is pounding, though, so you force yourself up and to the bathroom for some Advil. You stop short when you see a pair of legs hanging over the arm of the couch, and your heart drops. 
He’d stayed? 
You can tell Seungkwan has been awake for some time as he scrolls on his phone. The blanket he must have used is already folded up neatly beside the couch, and his face lacks the usual sleepiness it wears when he’s just woken up. He doesn’t hear you come in until you speak. 
“You’re here?”
Seungkwan looks at you in surprise before he sits up, his phone falling to his lap. He pauses before he says, “Why wouldn’t I be?”
You shrug, gnawing on your bottom lip. All you can think about is the fact that your head is pounding, and you desperately need some more water. “If I were you, I would have gone home.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not you — I, personally, prefer to talk things out instead of avoiding the problem.”
It takes your hungover brain a moment to process. Then you wince at his pointed words, your stomach turning for more reasons than one, but you don’t retaliate. He isn’t looking at you when he says them. You are suddenly so nervous, your voice shaky as you speak, but you know this can’t be avoided. You hate this, but you know that it’s your own damn fault. 
“I’m sorry.” The words feel heavy as you say them, and you can hardly breathe. You know where this conversation has to go, and you’re desperately not ready for it. 
You’re not ready to lose him.
He crosses his arms. “For what?”
You think you might burst into tears. “For last night.”
“What part of last night?” 
Your breath catches. Is he really going to make you say it? You steady yourself as you say softly, “I shouldn’t have kissed you.” 
For someone who usually wears his heart on his sleeve, Seungkwan is suddenly very hard to read. “Okay,” is all he says, and your heart sinks. “What about the fact that you ignored me for a week?” 
“I don’t know, Seungkwan.”
You watch as his eyebrows shoot up. “You have nothing to say after a week of ignoring me? God, I should be so pissed at you right now.”
You wince. He’s right and you know it. For some reason, though, he’s not mad. He looks dejected, tired, unhappy — but he’s not angry. You wonder why not. Your voice is small when you respond.
“You’re right.”
He looks at you in disbelief. “So that’s it? I don’t get an explanation? You’re admitting to ignoring me on purpose for a week, and I’m supposed to be okay with that without even knowing why? You haven’t responded to any of my texts… and after all of that, you call me to pick you up because you’re drunk and need a ride?”
“I didn’t even think you’d pick up,” you say softly, honestly. 
“That’s what you got from what I said?” His voice is incredulous, and you don’t blame him. “Of course I picked up. It’s you,” Seungkwan says with a scoff, and your heart lurches in your chest. He pauses, taking in a deep breath. “Wouldn’t you do the same?”
Your voice is soft as you say, “You know I would.”
“Do I know that? I also didn’t think you’d ghost me for a week, but I was wrong about that.”
“Seungkwan—”
“Wouldn’t you care if I stopped talking to you for a week with no explanation?” His voice gets softer as he speaks, suddenly unsure, and you hate yourself a little for being the cause of it.
“That would break my heart,” you admit, and you watch as Seungkwan crosses his arms pointedly.
“Yeah.”
“I’m sorry,” you say after a pause, and you are heartbreakingly aware of how inadequate it sounds.
He closes his eyes, inhales a sharp breath, and then he says, “Okay.”
You look at him in surprise. “Okay?”
He runs a hand through his hair, shoulders lifting into a defeated shrug. “What else am I supposed to say? You won’t talk to me or tell me what I did wrong. I literally can’t do anything else.”
You feel your heart break just a little bit more. He’s past the point of frustration, past the point of trying — and you think that’s the worst thing that could have happened. Now, he just looks sad, and it’s your fault. You watch as he stands up and takes a few steps towards the door, and you can feel the panic rise in your throat. 
“Seungkwan?” 
You stand up too, your fingers grasping at his sleeve to stop him. He turns back to you in surprise, and you try to steady your heart, your breathing, your nerves. He waits, eyebrows furrowed, gaze not leaving yours as he searches for an answer. 
“Please stay,” is all you can manage. “I’ll tell you. I’ll explain everything. Just… just give me a minute, and — just please don’t leave.” 
He stares at you for a moment, and then he nods. He finds his spot on the couch again, arms crossed over his chest, and you join him. You squeeze your eyes shut. You take a deep breath before reopening them, staring at your hands, and then you say it. 
“I like you.”
You can see Seungkwan straighten out of the corner of your eye. You don’t stop, you don’t let up, because if you don’t say it now, you never will.
“I really like you, Seungkwan, way more than friends,” you continue softly. “And I’m sorry for avoiding you, but it wasn’t as if I could just tell you why.” Your voice grows even quieter. “You’re my best friend. I can’t lie to you… but I didn’t want you to know. You’re just so — you’re amazing, Seungkwan. I like you so much, and it was starting to become really overwhelming. You have to understand that I just — I just needed to breathe for a little bit.” You swallow, hard, before you add quietly, “When I saw you last night, when you came to get me, I just… I missed you, and I guess drunk me wanted to kiss you, so she did.”
Your confession hangs in the air between you, and you want nothing more than to sink into the couch cushions beneath you.
Then he says quietly, “And what about sober you?” and you suddenly can’t breathe.
“What?”
“Does sober you want to kiss me, too?”
“Seungkwan.” Your voice breaks, a quiet, desperate plea for him not to push any further. You squeeze your eyes shut, and your chest is tight as you nearly beg, “Can we please just —“
“Y/N. I like you too.”
Your eyes fly open. You stare at each other for a moment — a pair of blushing idiots. 
“I really didn’t think I stood a chance,” he admits after what feels like the longest moment in existence. It’s so soft, so Seungkwan — your Seungkwan, the one only you and a select few get to see, the one who’s a little insecure and uncertain and real — that it makes your breath catch. “When you kissed me, I…”
“Kwan,” comes your whisper, and you think you can see the makings of a shy smile on his lips at the nickname.
“I’m freaking out right now,” he admits, cheeks flushing pink, and all you can do is stare at him. 
“Shut up.”
“Seriously?” He lets out an awkward laugh at that, and it’s your turn to blush. 
“Sorry,” you say quickly. “I’m just — holy shit. You know?”
Seungkwan laughs again. “Trust me — I know.” He shoots you a soft smile before he repeats, “Holy shit.”
It’s silent for a moment as your giggles subside, and you feel so shy that it almost makes you laugh again. You have to look away from him to breathe a little, but you can feel him shift closer, your knees brushing.
“Come here?” It’s a quiet request, as if there’s any way you’d deny it. You turn back to face him, cheeks flushed, and he smiles. 
The way he takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger makes you smile, too — and the kiss he presses against your mouth soon after has you downright giddy. It’s long and slow, so soft that it makes you ache, yet still so intense that it manages to steal the breath from your lungs.
“More of that, please,” you say when he pulls back. You’re breathless, and Seungkwan’s ensuing laugh is so bright that you feel like you’re being held by the sun. 
“I think I can make that happen.”
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A/N: Listen. I know I can’t just write for Seungkwan. Don’t look at me. ANYWAY! thank you for reading!!! If you read it REBLOG IT, and check out the Thirteen Valentines masterlist! If you want to be added to the taglist, send me a message :) Your kind comments and reblogs don’t go unnoticed, I promise
TAGLIST: @tae-bebe @seungkw1 @wheeboo @waldau @gyuminusone @darkypooo @wqnwoos @minisugakoobies @christinewithluv @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @lvlystars @iluvseokmin @seohomrwolf @kyeomkyeomi @bewoyewo
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lilioopdf · 28 days
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always enough time (cardigan)
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pairing: reader x (childhood best friend! + college!) pepe marti
notes: fluff, a little angst, then fluff again! 3.2k words (oops 😓😓 i should've probably split this up)
warnings: mentions of alcohol
a/n: dedicating this to my lovely mutuals who have been here from the very beginning and even before i started writing 💗💗 idk if this is too sappy but i genuinely love you guys for interacting with my writing posts and my non-racing posts because it really does mean so so much to me and i didn’t know any better way to say thank you
and if you’re reading this, have a lovely lovely day/ahead ahead 💞💞 may people always shower you in love and warm hugs
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the first time his eyes meets yours, you’re 4, clinging onto your father’s trousers as he speaks to another man about work related things. it is a business event, after all. he waves at you, a complete stranger then, and he watches as your head tilts a little, eyebrows raising slightly in surprise, before you hide your face behind your father.
he’s six, and yet he still feels his face burn in embarrassment, all because the prettiest girl at the party didn't say hi back.
he sees you again the next day, when you're both having dinner with your fathers at a hidden little restaurant near the beach. your fathers recognise each other almost instantly, and you suddenly find yourself sat next to him as the adults talk about complicated grown up topics over some drinks.
after dinner, he offers you half his cookie under the table, and you give him half of your ice cream in return.
he's too shy to say anything this time, but he lets you play with his toy car the very moment he notices you looking at it curiously.
it's a strange start to your friendship, but it's a sweet one nonetheless.
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you grow up together, but at a distance, only seeing each other during summers when you would follow your fathers to overseas work conferences.
he looks out for you for years.
when you're 8, he teaches you how to ride a bike. how to tie your shoelaces so you don't have to stick to velcro shoes forever. how to run faster, how to run without tripping over your own feet. he's gentle with you, and doesn't ever seem to mind your clumsiness.
you're only ever the same height as him once, and that is when you're 11. that year, his hair is almost always a little too overgrown, but he smiles more, and he has more stories to tell. he's at a new school now, one where they can bring their own phones with them. he tells you about the new subjects he's learning; physics, chemistry, english lit, and history. he has more friends now, and he shows you pictures of them alongside their text messages about online games you don't quite get.
when you're 13, he seems so different from the boy you knew last year. he's significantly taller than you now, and his voice cracks a less frequently than it used to, but he still blushes lightly whenever it happens. you don't mind though. if anything, it makes him even more endearing. pepe tells you about how he joined his school's soccer team this year, but you're sure you would've known even if he didn't tell you. he's so much happier these days, but he seems so grown up too. so much more ahead of you in life, at least.
the year you turn 15, things start to feel a little funny. 2 years feels like too big of a difference between the two of you now, and he just feels like too much of a boy. he towers over you now, and his voice has changed so much that you couldn't recognise it when he called out your name at the airport. you notice how the girls around you seem to look at him a little longer, letting their gaze linger on him for a little too long before they notice you at the side, standing awkwardly and feeling just a little too out of place.
you don't know how to feel about the fact that he's almost always looking at you instead.
now, he's quicker at picking up on your body language. he puts an arm around you and holds you when he can tell that your cramps are too bad, he's quick to offer you his jacket when the wind is just a little too chilly, and he's always carrying around your things for you. "just looking out for you," he says. "don't want you feeling alone when i'm right here."
and then you're 16, and lines start to grow a little blurry. it's a year full of insecurities and unfufilled longing, and most of the summer is spent in your head. it's weird to hang around him like that now. you start to distance yourself from him, but you're pretty sure he doesn't notice anyway. he still brings you around for dinner with him and to hang out, and you accept, but you don't ask him to follow you to places you'd like to visit anymore.
you run into a school friend of his one day, and you're suddenly made aware of just how differently he acts around you. his friend's nice to look at, you think. pepe tells you that's he's a soccer teammate from school. he calls you pretty and asks for your instagram, but pepe says something you don't understand in spanish and his friend just nods, apologises, and leaves, leaving you feeling just a little wounded and put off. you wonder if you did something wrong, but you're too scared to even ask your school friends for advice. they've all passed this silly stage anyway— you're the only one who's never even had a crush, let alone be asked out.
pepe gets his first girlfriend by the end of the year, and you're almost happy for him, except you can't help but feel a little jealous. it's silly though, you think. you're just a lovesick teenage girl pining over an older boy. she's cool and loud and she's always able to visit the same places and parties as him. a perfect match. he sees her more often than he sees you anyway.
your friendship ends on a rocky note the year you turn 17. neither of you follow your fathers the next year. neither of you can. it's pepe's last year with you before going off to university.
that summer, you're on your phone almost the whole time, texting a guy from school who's just asked you out. a hockey player of some sort. he parties and drinks a lot, but he's nice to you, and somewhat interested, you suppose.
when pepe finds out, he lets out a huff of laughter. "you're not seriously considering dating him though, are you? this is just for fun, right?"
you feel yourself still at his words. "what do you mean?"
"he won't be good for you. you're just... not like that. that lifestyle wouldn't suit you," he replies nonchalantly.
your blood burns just underneath the surface of your skin in anger and annoyance.
"who are you to say what lifestyle suits me? maybe this is what i want. i've grown up, you know."
you're more hurt than angry, although you're not quite sure why. your tone is indignant and fierce, and you watch as his expression turns neutral and unreadable and his eyes flicker from you, to your phone, and back at you again.
when he realises that you're being serious, his face contorts into an ugly expression, one of anger and almost a little bit of hurt.
"fine, suit yourself then."
then he walks out the room, and hot tears start running down your face.
and that is that. he still says goodbye to you at the airport, but the both of you don't hug this time.
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you try not to think about him for the next two years.
you drown yourself in your schoolwork, tackling assignment after assignment, exam after exam, anything to prevent yourself from indulging in any thoughts of him.
when a childhood friend brings him up one day, asking why you don't meet him during summer anymore, you pretend that he was just a phase. just a blip in your life; minor and insignificant in the grand scheme of things.
time goes by, and you continue to study hard, because you want to study humanities and the arts in university but still have the grades to prove that you could've done stem if you wanted to (like pepe, although you'd never admit to thinking that).
and then in a blink of an eye, you've graduated, and your months long break comes around as you wait for uni results to come back out.
its been a full two years now, but you'd be lying if you said you'd forgotten about him completely.
how could you?
you thought about him during mugging season in school, and during university applications, and sometimes (maybe especially so) during interschool games for soccer, imagining what it would be like if he was here, playing for your school team. (you also wonder what it'd be like to wear his jersey and cheer him on loudly and proudly in front of the whole schoot, but that's not something you're ever going to admit.)
you spend your summer soothing yourself to sleep by reminding yourself that pepe's been gone for two years now, and you're still doing fine. that you have done fine without him, and that you can and will continue to do so.
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imagine your horror when you realise you've been posted the same university as pepe. same campus too.
your father is ecstatic. he immediately wants to call up pepe's dad and tell him the news but you beg him not to, tears in your eyes. you can't risk looking like a hopeless and dependent little puppy even before the school term has started.
before the first day of uni, you've already studied the campus map well enough to plan routes that avoid going near the school of engineering, just so you can avoid pepe. you're almost 100% confident that you'll be able to hide from him for his remaining two years in uni. plus, you definitely look different from the way you did two years ago, so you technically have an extra layer of protection.
except you have an orientation camp the very first week of uni, and you're just that lucky enough to have a familiar face as one of your orientation group leaders.
he recognises you instantly. how could he not?
you half expect him to ignore you, or at least, pretend not to know you. but to your surprise, he smiles. in fact, he beams at you, and he waves before jogging over to sit next to you. your mouth is slightly agape, and you can't tell if this is some kind of cruel joke that he's playing on you right now.
"how have you been? you're lucky to be here today. the weather isn't usually this nice, and i know you get chilly easily." he's still smiling while speaking to you, and he's just acting so... normal, but you?
you feel like smacking him. you left each other on a sour note two years ago, after being friends for more than a decade, and he chooses to talk about the weather, of all things.
but you just put on a smile and act the same.
arguing with a best friend is one thing, having to make small talk about mundane, boring, topics with a friend you've known for years and then forgotten is another. you can't figure out if talking to him is helping heal your heart or slowly shattering it into more tiny little pieces.
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the first few weeks of uni fly by, and you don't end up using any of your pre-planned routes.
in fact, you end up meeting pepe almost every day before you your lessons. for breakfast, or brunch, or lunch... and maybe even dinner, once both your classes are done.
you can’t read him that well, and you wonder if this is only weird for you. but you’re not one to complain. you’re not one to take this for granted either.
you’ve spent years of your life missing summer and pepe, and then you spent two more years missing him without even speaking to him at all. no, you’re definitely not taking this for granted.
you learn that he's playing soccer for a kids charity event that happens yearly, that he's studying mechanical engineering (which doesn't surprise you at all, not really), and that he's broken up with his girlfriend, because of different goals in life or something. you stop yourself from thinking too hard about whether or not the both of you have compatible life goals upon hearing the last part.
he’s still sweet to you.
maybe even more so now that he can actually look out for you. he always gives you his jacket when you’re cold, offers to help you run your errands on busy days, and he even helps you get special oppourtunities thanks to his friends and connections. and when you’re sick, he gives you updates for classwork even though he’s not in the same classes as you, bringing you heat packs and checking up on you daily with warm teas and essential balms.
it's all so lovely that you could almost cry.
except he’s always just a little too stiff around you. too hesitant to touch, too close for distance.
he'll bring you heat packs on your period, and allow you to lean on his stronger frame when the cramps get too bad, but he never gets close enough to cuddle. and when either of you stay over for too long while studying together, he always offers to sleep on the floor or on the couch, but he never allows himself to lie in the same bed as you.
it's all so polite but so frustrating, and you're even more upset because you have absolutely no right to feel that way. he's your best friend, and he has been for years. he's not someone you could ever have the priviledge of dating, and he deserves a friend he can count on, not someone who's helplessly unable to stop their one-sided longing for him.
and so you let another six months slip away as you spend more time with pepe in your head than physically, while he continues keeping a distance from you, leaving you wondering why.
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suddenly it's feburary, and pepe's been so busy with schoolwork and training for the upcoming charity match that you just don't see him that much anymore. you're pulled back into that aching feeling of loneliness, and busying yourself with your own schoolwork and friends doesn't seem to help.
i can't risk doing badly this semester, he says. this is the one that counts. i’ll have to find myself a good internship for portfolio— maybe with formula one, he says. you nod. you’d be proud of him regardless of what he did anyway.
you end up following him to the gym in the early hours of the morning just to hang out with him, even if hanging out now means you just watch him get through his workout routine while you sit next to him and sort out your schedule.
his friends refer to you as pepe's girlfriend now, and you stopped correcting them when you realised that pepe didn't seem to care. you can't blame them anyway, you're together almost all the time. you're always waiting for him at his apartment after classes, usually in an oversized t-shirt or hoodie of his, and he even wakes up early just to bring you breakfast before class.
the domesticity of it all makes you ache, but you can't even bring yourself to imagine what if would be like if your relationship was actually as desired.
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pepe visits you the night before the charity match.
he brings you a jersey. his jersey, and he shyly asks if you'd be interested in showing up to watch him the next day. you almost scream with joy, but you control yourself, accepting it gracefully and holding the jersey gently and close to your chest.
you whisper a string of thank yous, careful not to wake your roommate up, and all pepe does is pull you in for a hug. he buries his face into the crook of your neck, arms wrapped tightly around your shoulders and all you can do is press yourself closer to him, taking in the scent of clean laundry and his cologne.
before he leaves, he flashes you a teasing smile, a somewhat knowing look on his face as he asks, "am i going to have to say it, or will you?"
you're caught off guard by his comment, and you just tilt your head in confusion, unsure what he's talking about. but he doesn't explain further. he just chuckles, gently shakes your shoulder, and leaves.
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you show up to pepe's match half an hour before it starts, just so you can get a good view of the match. the venue is already half full, and you're just grateful to have gotten front row seats.
you act as casual as you can, pretending that your heart isn't racing while you're wearing his soft jersey, with the number 23 boldly printed onto the back. when your friend teases you about the way your cheeks seem to be permenantly pink, you gently slap her arm and tell her to be quiet in a weak attempt to save your face, which only results in a laughing fit from her.
the match is mostly a blur, but both teams are very evenly matched, and there's suddenly only 4 minutes left to the end of the game and both teams are stuck in a tie.
you're not sure when your focus zoned in on pepe. it could've been since the very start of the match, but you somehow catch that split second when the ball is passed over to him, and his expression changes from one of neutrality to determination. you watch as he expertly drabbles the ball between player to player, rushing to get close enough to the goalpost to shoot before the end of the match.
you're sure that everyone in the venue held their breath at the exact same moment you did, and that time must've stilled when pepe slid and kicked the ball into the goal, just 30s before the end of the match.
the whole venue erupts into cheers. it's defeaning, but all you can think of is how proud you are of him in this moment.
you don't take your eyes off him for even a second, and when the referee finally signals the end of the match, he looks at you too.
he’s all sweaty, hair plastered to his forehead, face flushed.
he's sipping from his bottle, standing directly in front of you, having run straight to you after the match.
your boy.
there's a wicked grin on his face, and you can feel the heat rise up to your face as you take in all of him in awe.
everyone’s staring, you think, but you know he doesn’t care, so why should you?
you barely allow yourself time to hesitate, but he's quicker.
he kisses you.
his mouth is warm and soft, and yet there's a certain pressure and intensity with which he kisses you that makes you think that he probably wanted this as much as you did, maybe more.
and when you both finally break apart for air, you realise that all the cheering is now directed at the both of you, and you can't help but start laughing shyly. he smiles at that, and presses a quick kiss to your temple before rushing off for a debrief, with promises to talk later.
you don't even care that your time together has been cut short, because all you can think about now is how grateful you are that you won't have to return him this jersey.
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© lilioopdf 2024 – please do not plagarise, repost, or translate any of my work on this or other platforms
thank you for reading this far!! stay hydrated and safe always!! 💗💗
taglist: @oscnorris/@httpiastri (the one and only person on my taglist 💕💕 also i realised i forgot to ask you which account you wanted me to tag so i’m just doing 2/3 :p)
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gallusrostromegalus · 10 months
Note
all the captains and lieutenants accidentally get slipped some of ukitake's fucked up gigaweed edibles, what happens
First of all, it's not an accident, they straight-up plan a Friday-Night-Of-A-Three-Day-Weekend event of this. Everyone is curious, and Ukitake thinks it will be a funny way to celebrate his Birthday. He is correct: Yamamoto: Veteran of The Dank Arts, gets real high but not unpleasantly so. Would do it again next time he has a long weekend to enjoy it!
Sasakibe: Claims Ludwig Wittgenstein makes PERFECT sense now, attempts to write this philosophical revelation down but is thwarted by the jammed machinations of a clicky pen.
Soi Fon: Gives herself a hernia laughing at one (1) bad pun.
Yoruichi: Used to Urahara's Megaweed Edibles, so approaches the Gigaweed with undue confidence, declares This Edible Ain't Shit five minutes in and eats a second one. She has to be coaxed down from the top of the fridge where she's hiding from The Hatmen by bribing her with a can of Tuna. (Ukitake keeps the $21-a-can Good Shit in the house)
Omaeda: Creates a God-teir marinara Sauce, AND has the good sense to have Nemu pause her Game of Go and come into the kitchen to write down what he did.
Rose: Writes a magnificent new symphony, it's his best work ever, it's life alteringly beautiful, it's effervescent- When he sobers up, it's half a piccolo solo that barely qualifies as a ringtone.
Izuru: In the kitchen crying while eating an inadvisable amount of Omaeda's Spaghetti Marinara.
Retsu: Category Five Mukbang Incident
Isane: Thinks she's filming the Mukbang Incident, actually has her phone open to the calculator app.
Shinji: refuses to touch the Gigaweed because he "Owes The Hatmen Money" and nobody can tell if he's joking or not (he's not).
Momo: Literally Everything is HILARIOUS
Hiyori: Did not know it was possible to have a bigger, gayer crush on Momo, but she somehow opened up a new level of lesbianics. She calls it Gay 2.
Byakuya: Couchlocked for 24 hours straight.
Renji: Couchlocked right there with him, but able to text Izuru to bring them Spaghetti.
Komamura: Can't. Canine Weed Toxicity. (Relieved, offers to spend the weekend watching Toshiro and Yachiru so he has an excuse to go winter camping over the weekend)
Iba: Got High as FUCK. Found out later that the thing he actually ate was a Little Debbie Cosmic Brownie.
Shunsui: his alcohol tolerance actually makes his weed tolerance terrible so he's on the floor from jokingly licking the wrapper.
Nanao: Challenging people to knife fights (Romantic Intent).
Tousen: Immediately passes out because he managed to get his blood pressure down to normal levels, sleeps for 26 hours straight and wakes up feeling genuinely well-rested and in a good mood for the first time in two centuries.
Kensei: Gets his hand bitten at the Category 5 Mukbang Incident because he thought it would be funny to try to snitch off Retsu's plate.
Shuuhei: Attempting to refinance Shinji's debt with The Hatmen. Possibly succeeding?
Mashiro: Said "This Edible Ain't Shit", took a second, and appears to be unaffected. Playing Go with Nemu and winning.
Matsumoto: Makes the Hernia-inducing Pun. Will not STOP making Puns.
Hitsugaya: Being babysat by Komamura, would be madder about this if he wasn't also having a blast doing wintertime camping.
Kenpachi: Attempts to fight his own shadow, loses.
Yachiru: Also on the Wintertime Mountain Expedition, trying to talk Toshiro into joining her and Komamura on an Elk Hunt.
Ikkaku: Has done weed before, but only smoked it, but has a naturally suspicious nature and waits to see how Yoruichi does on her second edible, and avoids running afoul of The Hatmen.
Yumichika: Stays sober to collect blackmail on everyone. Actually films the Mukbang Incident for Isane
Mayuri: This is NOTHING compared to the Quantum Formaldymeth shit he's been on for the last century.
Urahara: from a prominent weed-growing family and lifetime connoisseur of The Herb. Takes one bite and realizes he's in deep shit, lies down on the floor next to Shuuhei and gives him terrible financial advice.
Nemu: Not chemically effected by The Edible but she loves A Group Social Activity so she's a little crunk on Social Recognition Euphoria and it's interfering with her game.
Ukitake, peeling his lieutenant off the floor: Y'all are wimps.
Rukia: has to be peeled off the floor, is affectionately dumped in the laps of Renji and Byakuya, where she forces them to have an emotionally honest and borderline normal conversation.
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potatoofdefiance · 2 months
Text
My two cents and a rant on the allegations and Good Omens
(I will probably regret this later)
This has been eating at me for a while now, ever since the news broke that Neil Gaiman was a sex pest (see infamous TERF-adjacent podcast by Tortoise media) and I have been consciously and unconsciously ruminating over it for weeks now, so here goes.
I think the news of Neil Gaiman hit me harder than I was expecting, and certainly harder than I would have liked.
I didn’t (and certainly do not now) consider myself a “true fan”. I was never a hard-core fan, one that goes to signings or book fairs or cons to meet my favourite author. Partly because I never latched that much on any of the authors of the books or movies I loved, and partly (maybe for the best now that I think about it) because I never had the money, or wasn’t located in a geographically favored area. Meaning I never lived anywhere near wherever events with Neil Gaiman were happening.
So, with all this in mind, how is it that the news managed to hit me so hard?
I thought (read: ruminated) about it, and I think it is because of Good Omens. And the latest times. In my life, and I think a good chunk of other people’s lives too, these last few years have been a roller-coaster. You choose which particular scenario the roller-coaster is set into; mine is on fire, running through a sea of shit and we are being slapped by gooey flaming eels hard in the face.
Maybe someone might enjoy this. That someone isn’t me.
But the point is: I have been struggling. With my life, with a mental health condition, with the world and my place in it.
Enter Good Omens. In an effort to actively expose myself to “nice” stuff, stuff that would, if not make me feel better, at least make me laugh, I started tapping more into the fandom.
I’m not a fandom person. Again, never latched onto anything that had a fandom big enough (where are the Ann Halam fans? No one is making cosplays of Sloe from Siberia, are they?).
But with Good Omens, it seemed perfect for me. I wasn’t invested so much, it didn’t make me feel like I was “lacking” something in order to be part of it. I just felt like I didn’t care enough to really be vulnerable to it, I felt like it could have been a nice innocuous hobby.
But that’s the point. Thinking it was innocuous made me let down my guard enough to actually fall in love with the fandom. Fall in love with those two weirdos of characters (which by the way, I’ll say this now: I think Aziraphale and Crowley as portrayed in the series are more a product of fans and Tennant and Sheen than they are a product of Gaiman and Pratchett. And this is not a bad thing per se, I think, but let’s give credit where credit is due).
And let me be clear: I gained so so much from joining the fandom. It has positively affected so many seemingly unrelated parts of my life, and I’m so grateful to so many kind strangers on the internet who have shared such wholesome art with me, and have gifted me so much, that even putting it into words is simply not enough to explain all of it.
And one of the results of this “wave of wholesomeness” is I also started following Gaiman more closely.
Like so many, I loved Coraline. Gaiman seemed a genuinely nice person. An old guy who had wisdom to share, and who seemed to be fascinatingly non-stereotypical? If that makes sense. What I mean is that he was everything my father warned me against. A goth, weird, a writer therefore an artist (and in my family we know artists are fools who end up on the street jobless and homeless). And yet, to me now he seemed such a normal guy. Yes maybe someone who enjoyed that fashion style, but otherwise very far away from the usual excess of a rockstar. Of course I was too young when he was at the peak of his rockstar years. English is not my first language, and when he was 40 I was in elementary school and just learning about him, and you know, they do not write about his fans passing out at signings or his groupies on the back cover of children’s books.
What I mean is that I didn’t have access to all the media and information about him.
So I start seemingly connecting to this writer, whose works I have enjoyed for the most part, and who seems such a nice guy in how he interacts with his fans and people in general. Such an inoffensive, kind person. And kind seemingly to everyone.
I started liking him. To the point where I remember telling my partner: you know, Neil Gaiman is someone I’d take a coffee with (which in Italian culture is one of the greatest honors one can give you. Having a coffee while sitting at a café and chat for hours is what good friends do).
So, in my mind he had a special place now. He was someone I started to admire and look up to.
And this is, I think, where it hurts. It hurts because even if I wasn’t personally victimized, I never met him, he never acted creepy with me, he doesn’t even know me, it still felt like I, as part of the fandom, had been used for his clout. And also, it hurts to feel like someone you trusted because of how they presented themselves has lied to you.
And on top of that: it is so fucking disrespectful. The fact he thought he could get away with it. With hurting so many people (one is one too many by the way), and causing so much pain, while also enjoying crowds of adoring fans, both online and in person.
I find it personally difficult to reconcile my love of the GO fandom with all of this right now. And I think it’s for a number of reasons.
Firstly because the silence of institutions and people around these facts has opened some old wounds and made me angry again towards a system that I perceive as hostile towards me and people like me who might be vulnerable.
What I mean is: I know that Gaiman is a powerful person, and a lot of people need to bring money home and are tied to contracts and what not (yeah I’m looking at our favorite two male presenting british actors here) and I understand it. I do. And this is exactly why this stuff makes me angry again. Angry at the whole shitty system we live in, where if you happen to be in some kind of power imbalance you might end up having to eat shit and shut up while witnessing violence against you or others and not being able to utter a word about it. This sucks. It makes me angry. It makes me angry that Michael Sheen, someone I like to believe would be among the first to shout “I BELIEVE THE VICTIMS” if he was talking to friends at a bar, likely has to shut up and play nicely because Darth Amazon has some fucking clause written in Braille somewhere that says he has to sacrifice his firstborn if he ever dares to suggest he doesn’t like anyone related to the franchise.
It makes me soooo angry that we stay in the dark, and we only know from those people who are brave, and powerful enough to speak up about something that (allegedly) has been known for fucking years in the writing community. That this person was a creep. That he was treating people, mainly women and non-binary folks, if not bad, at least poorly.
And you know, this makes me even more angry because I have been in such shitty situations too! I was a victim of a system where exploitation and borderline abuse were normalized in a work setting.
And it wakes something deep in me to read that “it was an open secret bla bla bla” and again: I understand why people set up whisper networks instead of taking these giants down. I understand it. It still makes me angry because I simply do not want to live in such systems. Systems where I’m either the sacrificial lamb or I’m the one tying it on the table, or handing the axe over to the butcher, or a witness who has no power to stop the suffering.
I don’t want to live in such a system. But I have to. In my real life. I have to put up with so much shit sometimes, shit that makes me feel like I cannot stand up for my values because hey, I need to pay the bills too. And Good Omens was one of those few things where I could escape a bit into an alternative reality, where everything could be a bit better.
And I’m sure the fandom is still like this for most of the fans. I have witnessed first-hand how supportive and cheerful this fandom can be.
For me though, it still makes me think of all this...tsunami of shit.
I want to be able to enjoy the silly fanart, the memes, the wait for season 3 again. But I can’t. I can’t because my brain does not work like that. Good Omens still means Neil Gaiman too much to me. And I cannot go around talking cheerfully about Good Omens while feeling like I’m feeding into the clout of someone who used their power to coerce vulnerable people. Because (and I might be wrong) it feels like the message I’m sending is: my comfort show/book is more important than your pain or your life. And I can’t. This is not the truth.
I feel for the victims. Probably I feel even more than it would be healthy for me, or normal. But I don’t know, I feel like I connect to them. Maybe because I’ve been a victim of abuse perpetrated in clear power-imbalanced relationships, or because I felt like nobody cared about me and my wellbeing for so long, that eventually I stopped caring too.
And it is bad. It’s dehumanizing to a point where you really start believing you don’t matter. Your wellbeing doesn’t matter. There are more important things.
Ok so, I don’t want the victims, the survivors, to feel like this. They matter. They matter to me because if there’s one thing that is going to re-ignate the sacred fire of defiance in me is being able to stop this self-feeding cycle of self-loathing and misery. You matter. We matter. Vulnerable people who have been hurt matter to me. If there is one thing we can do to resist these systems of oppression and these people who abuse their power, that thing is believing that the people they hurt matter. If not more, at least as much as them.
And the way I show myself and others that the victims and their lives matter to me is by distancing myself from Neil Gaiman and his works, at least for now.
I feel bad for people who might have found themselves unwillingly tied to all of this. I feel bad for Sheen and Tennant, for all the wonderful artists and craft-people who have put so much of their work and love in Good Omens and I don’t want to let them down.
My two cents are that season 3 will not be canceled if they see there’s enough traction, and definitely won’t be canceled unless fans start a crusade against it, which won’t happen most likely.
The fandom loves Tennant and Sheen too much, and these are too much nice people to really hold a grudge against them, so I don’t think it will be canceled.
I’m afraid we (I say “we” meaning everyone who loves Good Omens) will be “held hostage” by Gaiman in the sense that he knows season 3 is not going to happen without him, so it’s either “we” or the majority of “we” behave, or it’s not going to happen. Which again, I don’t think he would lose the opportunity to make some money, and he also has contract duties to fulfill, but it still is worth it for him to try to leverage his power.
I wanted to end this rant on a positive note, somehow. But I don't know exactly what to say. Recently one of the things that has brought me laughs and joy has been the Channel 4 series “We are Lady Parts”.
In one of the episodes they quote a very beautiful poem, which came back to mind when I was listening to Claire (the latest woman who has come forward with allegations) on the “Am I Broken” podcast.
The poem is Speak by Faiz Ahmed Faiz, I will paste the version from the show, because I think it’s very powerful and beautiful.
Speak, for your two lips are free Speak, for your tongue is still your own This straight body still is yours. Speak, your life is still your own.
See how in the blacksmith���s forge flames leap high and steel glows red, padlocks opening wide their jaws. Every chain’s embrace outspread.
Time enough is this brief hour Until body and tongue lie dead. Speak, for truth is living yet. Speak, whatever must be said.
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dr-spectre · 2 months
Text
Guys, i wanna preach something to y'all.
If you really love a character and if they are really important to you, but you feel like a large majority of fans treat them poorly and they mischaracterise them. Don't be scared to talk about it.
PLEASE!
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This is not even focused on Splatoon, no, this is just in general. If you genuinely love a character so much and they are treated in a way where you feel like it doesn't represent the character's true personality, events, arcs, etc, then speak up about it. Make a post on any social media platform or forum. Speak your peace, share your evidence, do what you can to say "hey guys. I think you should all take a second look at this character i really like! They have some cool stuff about them that not a lot of people talk about!"
I think a really great example of a character who's been really mischaracterised is Deadpool. In the comics he's a sad clown sort of guy where he hides his pain, suicidality and depression behind jokes and 4th wall breaks. He's a bad dude who tries his hardest to be a good person, but he fails over and over again and he doesn't believe he can ever be loved or respected. He's funny but he also has depth and layers which is so important to create an everlasting character. Or at least that's what I've heard he's like from comic fans. I haven't read the comics but i plan on to some day because I'm fascinated by his depth and i wanna experience that.
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However in his first major solo appearance, which was the game, he was treated as only a loud mouth jokester who sees every woman he comes across as "awooga! boobies and ass!!!!" and all the depth and nuance is gone. Even though they had a comic writer who worked on Deadpool comics for years, he didn't fucking ATTEMPT to give the character any form of intrigue. Just... nothing. Only memes and pop culture references that'll become dated in 5 years.
And a lot of people think that's just who Deadpool is... That's how so many people got introduced to this character which caused misinformation to spread about him for so long... And that fucking sucks dude.
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Thankfully the movies have some form of an emotional center with Wade and Vanessa's relationship and they give the character... SOMETHING!!!!! At least the comic fans seem to be pretty okay with movie Deadpool from my knowledge, which is good.
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ANYWAYS! BACK TO SPLATOON!
Do you guys remember when Pearl and Marina used to be treated like this? Pearl as some big forehead joke of a character, while Marina was some bimbo with huge honkers and a giant waist.
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Oh yeah, this was how they were treated for years. I remember it man, i fucking remember it all. I was there. Sorry to tell the new fans who joined from Splatoon 3. Even after Octo Expansion gave them detailed backstories and further explored their personalities, they were still mischaracterised as flanderised jokes and nothing more in the community.
But after people took the time to get to know these two, after people spent 7 years with them and discussed the interesting things about them online, they are now portrayed significantly better than how they used to be treated in the community and are celebrated as some of the best characters in the franchise. As they fucking deserve to be treated. Fans don't treat them as jokes anymore, casuals don't make tired old jokes anymore. Everyone loves these two now and for the right reasons.
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And all it took was a small section of people to praise their best attributes and eventually overshadow the misinformation about them. Pearl is celebrated because she is genuinely a great character with a heart of gold and a want to care for the people around her. To make every day chaotic and to have fun with her CANONICAL GIRLFRIEND!
Marina is celebrated as a character who autistic people can look up to and find comfort in. AND THAT IS FUCKING AWESOME!!! AND IT ALMOST NEVER HAPPENED! If no one bothered to look deeper at her character then maybe many peoples lives could have never been changed for the better... Isn't that crazy to think about?
If you can change one person's perspective on a character you love, and they feel that energy and they wanna help you share that energy with more people, then i think you've done something truly amazing. Eventually that shit is gonna spread further and further AND FURTHER!!!!!!
Remember when Shiver and Frye were treated as jokes similar to Pearl and Marina at the start of Splatoon 3? Frye with her big forehead jokes and people calling her ugly due to... well... i'm gonna make some wild accusations here but... there might be an undertone of racism when people call Frye ugly... like... i'm just saying... I'm scared of what these people think about Indian women in the real world... What views they share about them... Frye is inspired by Indian culture and by proxy, Indian women. I'm just saying...
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And, of course, fans gooning over Shiver because god forbid a woman exposes her midriff and has curvy hips... ugh...
BUT THANKFULLY IT'S CHANGED NOW! Lots of people see Shiver as a silly yet fun character who has the potential for depth down the line, which people are excited to see. People adore Frye and love her personality and her family.
There are people out there who say that Frye is actually cute and beautiful, AND YOU KNOW WHAT!?? I FUCKING AGREE! If people didn't share their love and takes on Frye then maybe she wouldn't become my favourite Deep Cut member.
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Now... To tie it all back to me, I'm seeing this change in perspective for a character.... with Callie Cuttlefish.
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During the years 2017 to 2022, Callie was always mischaracterised as some airheaded idiot who ended up getting herself "kidnapped" and "brainwashed" and had to be saved as she was some stupid helpless victim. This was seen in official material and fan comics too. I remember it man, i really do. Hell it STILL happens till this day. That fucking summer 2024 Nintendo magazine? Jesus christ dude...
But now? That perspective is changing... Sure not everyone is gonna fully agree and there probably isn't gonna be massive change in official media, social media such as YouTube and twitter, and of course wikis. Not everyone is gonna know about what Callie is truly like and what she has truly gone through. But....
That's okay.
I really don't wanna come across as some sort of gatekeeping fan, i really hate those kinds of """fans""" so much. I just wanna educate and share my love for a comfort character of mine. Eventually the perspective shared by me and others will be spread to other social media platforms and many more people. Because that's how the internet works baby!!!!
The perspective that Callie was just a girl suffering from fame and loneliness, a girl who wanted an escape from it all, a girl who went under hypnosis to numb her pain and stay in the corruptive darkness she built up for so long, a girl who wanted to help her enemies rather than stay in her current life with a cousin who isn't there for her anymore... A girl who didn't need to be saved, but a girl who needed to be reminded of the good memories she had with her cousin, to remember what she truly stood for and the love she wants to share with everyone via music... A girl who just needed... a fresh start....
She was never kidnapped despite what official sources say... She was never brainwashed despite what they tell you... Callie had agency... Callie was suffering... Just in a more nuanced and fascinating way.
that perspective... is spreading and... I'm so happy about it...
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Anyways, that's all i have for you guys. Please share your love for a character with others, share your unique perspectives to the world, you have a voice, USE IT! I DON'T CARE IF IT'LL REACH TEN THOUSAND PEOPLE! ONE THOUSAND! A HUNDRED! ONE PERSON! DON'T FUCKING MATTER!
USE YOUR VOICE! PLEASEEEE!!!!!!!!
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lazyneonrabbitt · 10 days
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Astray far away, towards the lands of the enemy.
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Adar x reader | SMUT🔞
When orcs cross your lands you choose survival. After that you choose selfish desire which makes for a nice turn of events.
WC: 2.2k
Part one of the Lets make Adar a dad fic
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Waldreg was a rat, always had been.
But nowadays, with evil lurking he was making quite the points to assure survival. 
After Bronwyn gave her speech about fighting and Waldreg had countered it with bowing down for survival you had followed him out of the gates of Ostirith, and during the night, bowed down before your enemy.
Before you, Waldreg made a speech of loyalty but was ignored by the orcs' leader.
Ignored until he had called him Sauron. 
You watched Waldreg be grabbed by the throat and thrown to the ground, still offering loyalty to whoever the man before you all might be.
Again he was ignored, as the man took Rowan who stood right before you and was dragged to face the crowd, forced to kneel as the orc leader tossed a dagger at Waldreg's chest. Finally speaking.
"Only blood can bind." 
Before your eyes, in the torch lit town you watched as Waldreg did as instructed, and killed your friend to pledge his loyalty.
Next thing you knew you were following along with orders, listening to Adar give his speech to the Uruks he called his childen. Abd then trying to hide from your now enemies, praying the Uruks recognised you as their ally.
Only the Uruks weren't the biggest of your worries as another troop came in on horseback to aid the oposing forces.
So you hid with the remainder of the troop that managed to escape. You hid in the woods until the ground shook and fire rained from the sky and by the time the enemy fled you were back with Adar and the others and the start of building a new home was done.
The Southlands were no longer, from now on you were citizens of Mordor.
Scouts were sent off and remaining troops arrived with all belongings, ready to build.
But first it was time for celebration.
Uruks howled and feasted on fallen soldiers, even offering you some meat but you politely declined. 
Instead you found the other humans, all getting drunk off whatever survived the onslaught. So you moved on from them too, not feeling like drinking after all that happened. Your last stop was somewhere off at the edge of the town's remains where you stared at the smouldering ashes and low dancing flames on the edge of dying out.
That too didn't bring your mind peace and quiet, so you moved on again. Wandering around until you almost ran into someone after turning a corner. 
"Not of the celebrating kind, child?" Adar himself stood before you, two mugs in hand. He offered one to you as he went to sit on some fallen support beams.
"I'm not really one for getting drunk or feasting on my enemies' flesh, no." You joined his side and sat down. "Don't take me wrong, I am glad your Uruks have a home now." Your words ended with a smile, buried behind the drink. It was bad how you wanted to stare at the man for as long as you could. You had wanted it since you first watched him throw Wardreg and had Rowan killed. No one should look that good doing all of that.
"You know your eyes speak enough. No need to hide, I can read you." His gloved hand raised to lower your mug.
"This is good, what is it?" You tried your best to change the topic of conversation with a genuine question.
"A simple Uruk made red wine the last group brought in. Is it that different from what you served here?" He gestured to the tavern that you sat behind and looked at you with a curious look. 
"It's so nice and warm." It brought you comfort so you sipped away at it, the nerves of everything happening today finally leaving you. "So strange, it's so much nicer than ours." 
This time it was Adar changing the topic again. "Shall we go join the others? Surely you'd warm up to my children quicker that way." His offer was a kind one, filled with elven charm he still possesed even after becoming what he was now. 
"I think I prefer the less chaotic energy here, in all honesty. Being able to talk and drink wine, it's nice." 
And it was nice, even Adar agreed. Now that he and his children had a home there was no need for endless planning and strategizing to keep him busy anymore. 
"I admit, you are right. Having a quiet conversation just for the pleasure of it is something I have not done in a long while." He watched you place your mug down, impressed with how quickly you had downed the wine for a mere mortal who claimed not caring about getting drunk. 
You placed the mug down and thanked the wine for silencing the voice in your head as you sat straight up and murmured something. Adar didn't catch what it was, and questioned you about it.
"I said," With a swift move you flung your leg over his lap and straddled him. "There is probably other things that you have not done for pleasure in a very long time." 
Adar followed your quick movements with ease, hus gloved hand ending on your hip. Metal digging into your skin to steady you as his other hand came up to rest at your jaw.
Your actions intrigued him. "You assume right." His gloved hand sqeezed a bit harder, making you squirm in his lap as the sharp edges pressed deeper against your bones. "Now, what did you have in mind now that you have sat yourself so selfishly onto my lap?" He wasn't actively moving you off him so you took your chances to move along, inching closer to his face and pressing a swift peck to his jawline before nuzzling his neck. 
You only got a confused grunt in response, which had you decide to think more as an Uruk, and bite down on his flesh and grind your hips against his. It earned you a low growl and a sharp pull of your hair that disconnected your lips from his throat. 
"You wish to be rough, little mortal?" His gaze changed into an amused grin, taking your hip and shoulder in hand as he manouvered you onto your back, legs still over his as he moved himself atop of you. 
His legs on either side of the fallen structure with your hips pulled up against his, a sharp metal hand pressing into the soft plump of your cheeks prying open your jaw to push a finger past your lips. 
His ungloved hand went to find the ends of your garment and tear it off your lower half, exposing you to the night air while you struggled to move against the iron grasp on your jaw and the metal digging into your tongue.
"How good of you, to wet your master's fingers for him.." His lips barely an inch from your ear, returning the act of biting down on your earlobe with a soft growl and licking the sensitive flesh. 
You mewled as his gloved hand left your face, sharp fingertips dragging down over your clothed torso as he sat back up, untill it reached bare skin. You gasped as he continued south, two fingers moving just off your centre, pulling a soft plea from you. "P.. please, no.."
 He watched in amusement as he pressed the flats of his fingers against your mound, just the leather of his glove on your skin. He drank in the fear that mixed with your arousal, adding to his own fire and exposing you further, leaving your body bare to see for anyone who'd wander past.
You could feel his hard length press against you as he rutted his hips against you, his hands toying with your chest making you moan out in pleasure. 
He groaned in return, moving to undo his trousers and free his cock, wetting it with your slick. 
"It's been long since I have felt this warmth." He breathed out, postitioning his tip at your entrance. You whined with every inch of his length stretching you open, wrapping your legs around his waist as best as you could. The sounds of the Uruks ans men partying drowned out more with each roll of Adar's hips, forcing a moaned breath out of you each time. 
He stilled as he bottomed out, hips slotted with yours in a near perfect matter. Leaning forward on his hands his hair framed his face, lust blown eyes staring deep into yours. There was a slight pant in his breath. "I will keep you." His gloved hand moved to your chest, metal fingers toying with your nipple making you whine out. "Y.. yes Lord Father.." Pain and pleasure mixed in the best way. "You are mine to seek pleasure with howevever I wish." 
Your hands moves to clas at his thighs in an attempt to make him move. "My body belongs to you, Lord Father." 
Your words spurred him on and with a hand on your hip he started moving, cock leaving you almost fully before thrusting back in and setting a steady pace. 
Cries of pleasure filled the ashen air, groans and pleased grunts joining the choir behind the tavern. "L..lord Father.. Adar.." Your voice was barely abouve a whisper. " your hand found his hair, fingers scratching his scalp. "Plant your seed.. Use me to continue your bloodline." 
His thrusts became more harsh, forcing a gasp from you each time his hips came in contact with yours. "Would you.. truly give up your body.. like that?" He panted between breaths, he hadn't bred in Ages, not feeling the need to produce more offspring. The concept of having a family of his own beside his Uruk children was foreign to him. 
"Please.." You pulled him in closer with your heels pressed into his back, moaning as his cock hit just right inside you.
"Make me a mother." 
Adar's hips stilled entirely as he looked down on you, a grin spread wide on his faceas he lifted his gloved hand and brought a fingertip down below your chest hard enough to break skin. You could not see what he did, only feel the carving of flesh obscured by the plump of your breast.
He did not speak, nor try to show you. Instead resumed his rough pace as if nothing had happened.
"You will bear my children, yes? For as long as I please. Until your body is no longer fit to carry offspring." His raspy voice was right at your ear, his teeth sinking into the sensitive skin on your neck as he bred you. 
"Ahh..Adar.. hah.." Your moans increased the closer you got to the edge. They were music to Adar's ears.
Not like the animalistic howls and roars of thr Uruks he had gotten so accustomed to. No, your sounds were addicting. 
Your hand found his ungloved one, guiding it between your legs to press two fingers down on your clit, silently begging him to pull you over the edge. On contact you cried out, pleading over and over until the coil snapped and you came, walls clamping down on his cock in extacy.
With no chance to catch your breath your cries turned into begging for rest, a moment to come down but instead Adar kept playing with your clit, fucking into you at the perfect angle that hit every right spot inside of you. The display amused him, filing it all away for if he ever found himself alone and in need of relief.
Before you he panted, chest heaving and mouth hanging open. His tongue rolled out past his smiling lips, a string of drool lowering and disconnecting from the tip of his tongue, dripping down right above your core. His already slick fingers gathered it and spread it all over where his cock disappeared into your folds. 
It reminded you that you weren't producing a child with an elf. You were being bred by an Uruk. 
Adar's growls and sighs got more frequent along with his thrusts becoming less rythmic. He was as close as you were again.
His hinistrations continued, fingers dancing over your sensitive bundle of nerves as his cock stroked thr spot that had you see stars from the inside. 
You threw your head back with one last gut wrenching moan, squeezing your walls around his cock once more and pulling him over the edge with you. With a low growled moan he spilled deep within your womb, stilling to catch his breath.
As he tucked himself back into his trousers he watched your close to unconsious form, eyes closed and breaths evening out.
In your current state you could no longer register the Uruks that had gathered because of the noise, watching their Adar who mated with one of the new women. 
He was unsure how long they had been there or how much they saw, but from the howls and cheers he figured they had seen enough. 
With a glare in their direction, Adar sent away his children and covered your bare skin to the best of his abilities. You needed a new set of clothes. 
With you wrapped in his arms he set off to find a place for you to sleep while he sent others on a hunt for clothes. 
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brodygold · 23 days
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The Decision Part 2
Part 1 here
Liam sat on the edge of the empty soccer field, the sun dipping low in the sky, casting long shadows over the grass. The events of the day played over and over in his mind—the confrontation with Kareem, the cold dismissal, the shunning from the Vanguard. He had given everything to that team, and in a moment, it was all gone.
He thought about the white and green jersey he had worn only yesterday. It no longer represented pride or honor. Now, it was just a painful reminder of what he had lost. With a heavy sigh, Liam put his shoulders on his knees, thinking about the team that had abandoned him.
The sound of footsteps behind him broke through his thoughts. Liam turned to see a familiar face—Brody, the rising star of the Golden Army, walking toward him with a calm, steady stride.
“Liam,” Brody called out, his voice warm, carrying none of the judgment or pity Liam had expected. “Mind if I join you?”
Liam shrugged, too tired to put up a front. “Sure. Not like I’ve got anywhere else to be.”
Brody stopped beside him, looking out over the field. For a moment, neither of them spoke, just standing in silence, watching the last rays of sunlight fade.
“I heard what happened,” Brody said finally. “It’s rough, man. Really rough. But I wanted to tell you that you don’t have to be alone.”
Liam scoffed softly, not turning to meet Brody’s gaze. “Don’t have much of a choice, do I? The Vanguard made sure of that.”
Brody shook his head. “That’s not true. You’ve still got options. We’ve been talking, and the Golden Army—we want you to join us.”
Liam blinked, finally turning to look at Brody, surprise evident in his eyes. “What? Why would you want me? I just got kicked out of the Vanguard like yesterday’s trash.”
Brody smiled slightly. “Everyone makes mistakes, Liam. What matters is how you move forward. You’re a good player—one of the best. And more than that, you deserve a team that has your back, not just when you’re winning, but when things get tough too.”
Liam hesitated, the offer both tempting and terrifying. “You really think I’d fit in with the Golden Army? After everything?”
“Absolutely,” Brody said, without missing a beat. “We’re about more than just rules and discipline. We’re about supporting each other, growing together. And yeah, we push each other to be better, but we don’t abandon our own.”
Liam felt something stir inside him, a flicker of hope he hadn’t felt since he was cast out of the Vanguard. But with it came a fear of the unknown. He had spent so long adhering to the Vanguard’s rigid structure—could he really start over with a new team?
Brody seemed to sense his hesitation. “Look, I know it’s a big change. But I think it’s exactly what you need right now. A fresh start, a new beginning with people who won’t judge you for one mistake. Give it a chance. If you don’t feel like it’s right for you, no hard feelings. But at least try.”
Liam looked back at the field, the place where he had once felt at home, now a source of pain. Slowly, he nodded. “Okay. I’ll give it a shot.”
Brody’s smile widened, and he reached out, placing a hand on Liam’s shoulder. “Welcome to the Golden Army, then.”
Liam couldn’t help but smile back, a small, tentative smile, but genuine. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”
“There’s one more thing,” Brody added, reaching into his bag and pulling out a golden jersey. He handed it to Liam, who took it with a sense of reverence. “When you join the Golden Army, you get a new name. A fresh start, like I said.”
Liam looked at the jersey, then back at Brody. “What’s the name?”
Brody’s eyes held a spark of excitement as he answered, “Griffin. It’s a symbol of strength, courage, and loyalty. Qualities we see in you, Liam. From now on, when you’re with us, you’ll be Griffin.”
Griffin. The name resonated with him, filling the empty space that had been growing inside since his departure from the Vanguard. It was more than just a new name; it was a promise of a new beginning, a chance to be part of something greater than himself.
Griffin felt a weight lift from his shoulders as he pulled on the golden jersey. It fit perfectly, like it was meant for him. The uniform changed him slightly too. His hair lightened to a light brown. His pecs grew out slightly with more muscle and his facial hair fell away, revealing a clean shaven face.
He also started looking at Brody in a new light. Before, he was into women, but looking at Brody's plush lips sure made him want to try guys for the first time. Griffin found he didn't mind the feeling at all either.
As they walked off the field together, Brody and Griffin talked about the upcoming season, strategies, the team’s dynamic, and their own dynamic now too. The more they talked, the more Griffin realized that he was no longer just a player who had lost his way. He was now part of something bigger, something that valued him not just for his skills on the field, but for who he was off it. And he had a new boyfriend to thank for everything.
The Vanguard had been his past, but the Golden Army was his future. And with his new name, Griffin knew that the future was bright.
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Revenge
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Features: Yandere! Pro player Alexis Ness and Kaiser's crush! afab! Reader
Content: SFW, suggestive, manipulation (on Ness's part)
Term of endearment used for reader: cutie, darling, pretty thing
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Ness knew that Kaiser liked you even before Kaiser himself could recognise his feelings for you.
If you ask anyone else, they'll say they aren't sure, after all Michael Kaiser does not wear his heart on his sleeve.
But it's different for Ness
Being Kaiser's support as a midfielder and his loyal friend made Ness very good at judging Kaiser's emotion. And the one Kaiser felt for you was love.
Even his action spoke of such. Purposefully making eye contact with you from across the room, letting you sit next to him, long conversation that never seem to end. Even the small touches here and there did not escape his eyes.
Well, it's not like there was any bad blood between Kaiser and Ness. It's just that Ness can't bring himself to forget the pain and sorrow brought by Kaiser's words as he casually abandons him to go join another team. How he seems to forgot how hard Ness worked to let him be the star of the show. Now playing for different teams, they only have light conversations during events that invite all the German football clubs.
In events where you, a famous event organiser, were there.
"Hm? How is it that you're sitting all by yourself?" Ness did not hesitate to strike up a conversation when he saw the chance. "Oh, if its not Alexis Ness, care to join me for dessert?" "The only dessert I see is standing in front of me" he remarks with a wink, making you laugh sweetly. Oh he definitely understands Kaiser now. "Well but I'm not the type to refuse an offer from a cutie like you" "Oh another great football player calling me cute today, is it my lucky day or what?" 'Another' huh?
He guides you towards the couch where he orders a luxurious dessert for the two of you, on his tab of course. Conversation is made, him asking about you and you asking about him. It must have been quite a while before Kaiser's topic came up.
"So, for how long have you been friends with Kaiser?"
"Kaiser and I go way back. We used to be on the same team"
"Ah he did mention that! He's so debonair and sexy!"
"Oh really? Did something special happen?" You nod. "I said we'll go out on a date if he manages to score a hat trick in his next game. And guess what? He said he'll do it! Ahh he's so cool"
"Well that's Kaiser for you. If he said so he'll most likely do it. *sigh* but it is sad to see such a pretty thing like you being nothing but a name to cross off of his list"
You had 'shocked' written all over your face. "W-what do you mean?" Here it is. " Oh you didn't know? How he's just pursuing you just to get you in bed? Just a little bit of fun before he loses interest in you" "B-but how is that possible? I thought-" "Oh darling I wouldn't have told you about it if I didn't see many girls running out of his bedroom with tears in their eyes"
You looked genuinely sad, an expression which made him almost regret what he has done. "Hey, it's okay, you didn't know. Don't look sad. Here, put your head on my shoulder" Ness comforted you through the pain he had to create himself.
It was the next event where Ness met Kaiser, the one 3 days after Kaiser's match. "Hey Kaiser, long time no see! Congrats on your hat trick! It must have been difficult to pull off" Ness congratulated him with a handshake. "Of course, it's bound to happen when you're the best striker in the world" he has an arrogant smile plastered on his face, but his eyes are searching for someone. Ness knows who.
"Alexis~" "Darling! You're here!" You flug your arms around Ness, his first name rolling off your tongue showing your intimate relationship. Kaiser eyes widen as you proceed to place a kiss on his cheeks. You don't even make eye contact with Kaiser as Ness speaks for the two of you.
"Sorry I did introduce her. This is my girlfriend"
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alphabetatoes · 8 months
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...in a rich man's world (n. kento x reader)
a.n.: a pseudo part 2 to this fic aka what happens when you call nanami your sugar daddy
c.w.: alcohol, reader gets tipsy (but still sober enough to be in control of her actions), awkward flirting, fluff
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you take a moment to ensure everything is in order one last time before closing up the gala. everything (fortunately) went according to plan during the event. the higher ups were impressed enough with the progress to not meddle again for at least a few months. and to celebrate, you and kento decide to hit up a local bar. 
drinks are on him, of course.
two shots and a mixed drink later, you and kento are saying sweet nothings to each other. you can’t help but feel grateful for the situation. the entirety of it. he was sweet, and generous. the fact that he was drop dead gorgeous was just an added bonus. the buzz of the alcohol made your mind wander into territory you forbade yourself to think of when sober, worried that it would jeopardize the relationship y’all had cultivated. but emboldened by the alcohol, you decide to make your thoughts public. “you’re basically like my sugar daddy, you know.” your comment causes kento to choke on his drink.
“i’m like your what?” he says it with a smile, a bit thrown by the remark yet curious to know where you’re going with it. kento shifts himself in the barstool to face you, and his knees lightly graze yours as he turns. 
“i mean, you buy me everything i want and then some.” you test the waters, seeing if he’ll take the bait. and of course he does. even if you couldn’t fully see it, anyone in the bar could tell he was hanging on your every word.
kento takes a moment to collect his thoughts, careful to not scare you off. “i just- i think you deserve the best, and that’s something i’m fortunate enough to finance for you.” even with the alcohol, his tone is nothing but earnest. and he was genuine. “but wouldn't it imply that i’m getting things from you in return?”  hook. time to address the giant elephant in the room your initial words had let in.
“not always… unless you wanted it.” you'd be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t smitten by him. and having a little fun never hurt anyone. kento’s head rests on his hand, propped up on the table, as he listens to your every word.
“at that point i’d just ask you to be my girlfriend.” line.
“and take all the fun out of it?” you were half joking, reveling in the playfulness of the conversation. you tuck a strand of hair that had fallen in his eyes behind his ear, unintentionally closing the small gap left between the two of you after he’d moved.
“then both it is.” sinker. 
“oh?” now you’re the one left to your own devices. you raise your glass to him, holding it in the air and waiting for his to join. “cheers to both.”
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cherrygukkie · 2 months
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Late Night Encounters Pt 4 | jjk
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A/N: Here is part 4 of Late Night Encounters :) I hope you all enjoy it. Let me know if there are any errors. I would appreciate any feedback. <3
Word count: 5k+
••••
“Hey, are you still with me?” Your coach’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts. You turn to see her looking at you with a worried expression. “Are you okay?”
“I’m so sorry,” you say, shaking your head. You quickly refocus on her, “I got lost in my thoughts…”
It took you a minute to realize that Mindy left the bar. You didn’t even notice her slip away amid everything.
Your eyes wandered to the entrance and Jungkook and Gaia were out of sight. The image of Jungkook and Gaia together lingers in your mind.
Curiosity was killing the cat, wasn’t it?
“I see…” your coach narrows her with a small nod. “… did you at least hear anything I said?”
You shook your head. “What did you say?”
Your coach’s expression softens and she steps a bit closer. “I was asking if you were okay. I know you didn’t get recruited, and I just want to make sure you’re handling it alright.”
“I’m fine, really,” You reassure her, touched by her concern for you. “Being recruited wasn’t in my plans this year, but I’m okay with it.”
“Are you sure?” she asks, slightly worried with how nonchalant you were about it. “It’s okay not to be okay.”
“Positive,” you nod, as in an attempt to convince her that things were good. “I feel like I still have some personal growth before I move onto something big like that.”
She gives you a look, taken back. “It’s so unexpected that you think so. You’re one of my best and most aggressive players on the team. It just surprises me that you feel that way...”
Hearing how she thinks so highly of you made you feel even more comfortable with your decision.
“That’s why I’m not upset about not being recruited. It will happen when I am more than ready.” You twirl your glass of sparkling water, watching the bubbles spin satisfyingly.
Coach smiles, very pleased with your response. “Well, I’m glad you’re okay.” She reaches out and gently rubs your arm, a gesture full of warmth and reassurance. “If you ever need to talk or if there’s anything I can do to help, please don’t hesitate to let me know. You’re an important part of this team, and I care about how you’re feeling.”
Coach isn’t much of the touchy type, so it caught you off guard when she did that. She’s been extra supportive lately, more attentive to how you’re feeling.
You didn’t look at it weird because she was always like a mother figure in your life, guiding and supporting you through both victories and setbacks. It was obvious that she genuinely cares about you beyond just your performance on the team.
From the first day you joined the team, she was there, offering advice, lending an ear, and giving you the encouragement you needed. Her steady presence has always been a source of strength for you.
You couldn’t be more grateful for having a person like her in your life.
“I appreciate it, Coach.” A warmth spreads across your chest as you smile. “I will always keep that in mind.”
As you both walk back towards the main area of the event, the sound of laughter and celebration grows louder, enveloping you in a vibrant atmosphere. The lively chatter of your teammates and the clinking of glasses create a symphony of joy that fills the air.
🏐🥊
Once people start to leave the venue, you feel a hand on your shoulder. It’s Yoongi and his usual calm demeanor. “Ready to head back?” he asks, his voice gentle.
“Yeah, I think so,” you respond, feeling the exhaustion weighing you down. You knew it was time to head home when your social battery was getting low.
You and Yoongi said your goodbyes to everyone, and then the two of you made your way to the car. You settle into the passenger seat, buckling your seatbelt as Yoongi starts the engine.
The drive begins in comfortable silence, the hum of the car and the faint sounds of the city at night creating a peaceful backdrop.
Yoongi glances at you as he navigates the streets. “Did you enjoy yourself, Y/N?”
You look at Yoongi, then nod. “It was great seeing everyone celebrate their achievements.”
“I agree.” He nods, his tone thoughtful. “It was good to see how excited everyone was about their achievements and their future.”
“It felt like a real celebration and I feel like that’s what I needed.” You smile thinking about how successful this evening was. “By the way, there’s something I didn’t get to tell you earlier.”
“And that is?” Yoongi asks.
“I’m going to be the captain now,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady. “Coach told me earlier tonight. Mindy is leaving, so I’m taking over.”
“Damn girl.” His face lights up with a proud smile. “Coach Y/N? That has a nice little ring to it. I am very happy for you, sis.”
“Thanks, bestie,” you reply, with a joyful smile. “It's a big responsibility, but I feel like I am ready for it.”
“Damn right, you are.” He turns left, focusing on the road. “Now me and Taehyung are gonna get matching t-shirts with your face and name on it for your games.”
“Oh like hell you will.” You chuckle. “But seriously, I think I can live up to everyone’s expectations like Mindy or hopefully even better.”
“The only expectations you need to worry about are your own,” Yoongi says. “Just be yourself and lead the way you know how. Don’t get caught up in anyone else’s opinions.”
He did have somewhat of a point. Getting caught up in everyone’s opinions can make you lose track of the image you want to maintain as captain.
The rest of the drive continues with light conversation and laughter between you and your best friend. Soon, Yoongi pulls up to your dorm building as the familiar lights come into view. He pulls up to the curb and puts the car in park.
“We’re here,” he sighs, leaning back in the seat and you unbuckle your seatbelt. “Make sure to get rest, alright? I’ll see you tomorrow at school.”
“See you tomorrow.” You step out of the car and head towards the dorm entrance, giving him a wave as he drives away.
As you make your way inside and head up to your room, you reflect on the evening. You were the captain of your volleyball team now and it was a damn good feeling. You couldn’t wait to share the news with your dad once you got settled in.
Unlocking your door, you step into your shared dorm suite, greeted by the low hum of the television. Your roommate, who you’ve always had a somewhat distant relationship with, is sprawled on the couch, eyes glued to the screen. As you walk past her, she glances up briefly.
“Nice dress,” she comments, her tone neutral, yet unexpectedly civil. You weren’t able to tell if it was genuine or backhanded, but you said thanks anyway.
You lock the door, then immediately go to your room. Her complimenting you was odd… It was rare for her to acknowledge you beyond the necessities of living together.
Both of you always bickered about any small inconvenience and you both were opposites in some ways alike, which is a recipe for disaster.
You step into your room and let out a deep breath. It felt good to finally be home in your environment. Now all you had to do was prepare for the next and what’s to come for tomorrow.
But there was something that wasn’t sitting right in your brain, so before you did anything, you went on Instagram to do some digging.
You go on Harvard’s Official volleyball page and you see multiple pictures that were recently posted from the event. You scroll through the pictures but see nothing but Gaia and her teammates.
As expected.
Instantly clicking on Gaia’s profile, you see nothing suspicious. No pictures of her and Jungkook together, but you weren’t going to settle for that. You were too nosey for your own good and you needed answers.
Your finger hits her following and you find Jungkook’s Instagram by just typing his name.
@jungkook.97
Even though you didn’t follow each other, you still decided to go through his posts carefully examining each photo and caption he had, looking for any hints of a romantic relationship between him and Gaia.
There were no signs of Gaia on his page, not even a sign of a relationship. It was mainly pictures of him, his expensive car, him hanging out with family and friends.
That was it.
Suddenly, your finger slips, and you accidentally double-tap one of his pictures—a recent photo where Jungkook looks particularly good. It was a photo of him in the boxing ring shirtless and sweaty…
Looking effortlessly hot.
“Fuck!” Your heart stops as you realize you liked the post, and you quickly unlike it. But it’s too late; the notification has already been sent.
And shortly, you were certain that Jungkook would blow up your phone about it. After all, you didn’t follow each other… so it looked very suspicious on your end.
You decided to shut off your phone and go to the bathroom. It’s been a day and a hot steamy shower sounded nice and would help clear your mind and relax.
Once you finished your shower and settled into bed, you texted your dad just to check on him and tell him about the sporting event.
Surprisingly there was no dm of Jungkook confronting you about liking one of his photos.
You put your phone down and lay in your bed. The softness of your comfort snuggles your body as your thoughts rest as you eventually drift off into a deep sleep.
🏐 🥊
It's morning and the sun is beaming. You were already dressed and ready for class, but you made a stop at the library so you could get a chemistry textbook.
Taehyung was borrowing yours at the moment and you needed your own for class. So you wanted to go while you still had time before 1st period officially started. With it still being early, you were most likely going to catch up on work as well.
As you enter the library, it is empty. There was not a single soul there except the librarian.
You casually scan the shelves for your chemistry textbook. The quiet atmosphere felt strange without your usual music playing in the morning.
That was because Jungkook still had your expensive headphones from yesterday. It surprisingly slipped your mind that you had to get them back, but it was no big deal.
You were going to get them from him today one way or another. Even if it meant clawing his face for it.
Your eyes landed on the exact textbook you needed, but it was on the highest self and out of your reach. Quickly looking around, you search to see if there was anything you could use to step on.
Nope
Just as soon as you were going to ask the librarian for assistance, you suddenly heard a familiar voice behind you. “Looking for something?”
You turn around, startled, to find Jungkook standing there, his deep brown eyes staring down at you with curiosity. “Nothing,” you reply curtly.
That prideful attitude of yours didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that you were struggling to reach a book.
Jungkook isn’t buying your bullshit, so he rolls his eyes. “Right, because wandering around in the chemistry section is casual,” he says, scanning the titles on the shelf in front of her. He reaches up and pulls out a thick chemistry textbook. “This one?”
You snatch the book from his hand, “Thanks,” you mutter, your tone still cool. Without waiting for a response, you head towards the back of the library, hoping to escape the conversation.
Because now all you can think about is how you accidentally liked one of his Instagram posts last night. That was the last thing you wanted to talk about right now.
But he is never one to miss an opportunity to get under your skin. “Beasty wait up,” he calls after you, his tone light but with an edge of irritation.
You settle into a corner table with your chemistry textbook. You still had time to kill before class, so you were going to sit and do work.
Jungkook follows you and he appears at the edge of the table, leaning casually against the back of the chair. “What are you doing sitting at the library this early?” he asks, a note of genuine curiosity in his voice. “Only nerds come to the library at this hour.”
“I’m here to do some work,” you say firmly, meeting his gaze with a guarded expression.
Jungkook takes a seat across from you, his demeanor unchanged. He thought for a second, before speaking up again. “Is there something going on? You’re not usually this dedicated.”
You frown, unsure of how to take what he just asked you. It seems like he’s aware of how shady his question sounded because he asked so casually and he’s just blankly staring at you.
“Excuse me? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” You frown even harder, obviously offended by his words. Defense mode activated.
Jungkook gives you a look, “Exactly what I mean, and stop cursing. It is not lady-like.”
You narrow your eyes at him, irritated by his presence. His direct approach wasn’t helping your attitude either. “What are you trying to get at, Jungkook?”
He sighs, his face becoming calmer. “Look, I know that you’re bad at school. I was just curious to know if that’s why you were here in the library this early,” Jungkook says, his tone steady as he crosses his arms. “If it’s because you need to get your grades up for volleyball.”
Jungkook was correct. You were terrible at school, but that wasn’t the reason you were at the library.
At least this time…
Out of all the girls on your team, you had the worst grades. The issue was that your focus was mainly on volleyball and not your education, which isn’t good.
As you unzip your backpack, you place your notebook and a pencil on the table. You needed to take some notes for history class from a documentary your teacher uploaded.
It would’ve gotten done yesterday, but you were booked for the evening and it had to get done later than expected.
Jungkook watches your every move, still waiting for a proper answer. You look up at him, “I am just here to do notes for history class. I’m here to focus, not explain myself to you.”
“You say that, yet you just explained why you were here.” He nods, then casually reaches into his pocket. “Fair enough.”
With him saying that you assume that he would leave the library. But instead, he’s still here… sitting next to you… regularly.
Soon, Jungkook discloses his vape from out of his pocket. You look at him with panic in your eyes because of the serious trouble he could get into if someone sees him.
Your mouth slightly falls open in disbelief at how careless he was being. “Really? On school grounds?”
Jungkook doesn’t say a word, instead, he wraps his pink lips around the tip, taking an elongated inhale only for it to release from out of his nose.
He finally speaks, looking directly at you. “Can you not bounce on my dick for once?” He chuckles, before popping the tip back into his mouth again.
Bouncing on his dick?? My god.
“Fine then metal lungs. Do what you want.”
You continue watching the documentary on your phone while taking notes. The silence only adds to your annoyance as you recall the Instagram incident from last night. It was shocking that he didn’t rub it in your face already.
Casually sneaking glances up at Jungkook, he was still smoking and minding his business. Your eyes wander to his neck and you immediately remember that he still had your headphones.
“Hey…” you speak up directly, dropping your pencil. “Where are my headphones? I need them back-”
He ignores your question, speaking over you.
"Wanna hit it?" he asks, holding the vape in front of your eyes. You glance down at the colorful vape in his tattooed hand and shake your head. Never in your life have you smoked and you were not going to start now.
Why did he dismiss your question like that…?
“I never share, so this is me being generous. Plus the flavor is cotton candy, if that helps."
"No!" you shoo his hand away. "I'm an athlete, I shouldn't be doing that…” He shrugs at you denying his offer and he takes a puff releasing another small cloud.
The fact that the librarian wasn’t noticing the cloud of smoke in the air was crazy. If you were to try something like this, you’d get caught up instantly.
“Aren’t you like a fighter or something? You shouldn’t be smoking either. It could affect your performance. Plus, that’s not natural… it has all sorts of lead poisoning and battery acid…”
He wasn’t stupid, he knew how unhealthy vapes were. But did he care? No, he didn’t and he didn’t give a fuck about your rant either.
Jungkook grumbles, running his unoccupied hand through his dark soft curls. “I am aware and I do boxing sessions. I’ve been doing it too long to not survive. I’ll be alright.”
Now that you are thinking about it, the majority of the athletes at your school were smokers. Basketball players, football players, cheerleaders, soccer players, and more.
Maybe some of your teammates were a part of the majority too. It killed you how common smoking was at your school, you couldn’t understand the point.
His deep voice breaks the silence, “Aren’t you bad at school? How do you know exactly what’s in this?” The smoke eased its way out his mouth as he spoke, twirling the vape in between his fingers.
You looked at him as if he was a dumbass. “Anyone with a brain and common sense knows that.”
“Right…and you have both,” He mumbled sarcastically, his gaze dragging you up and down slowly.
“I’ll let you have it because I have something serious to ask you.” Your attention was on Jungkook, instead of your history notes.
He looks over at you. “Shoot.”
“I wanted to know about Gaia. I heard she didn’t get recruited. Do you know why?” You ask, casually.
Jungkook raises his brows, his face becoming more serious. He was surprised that you were asking about Gaia, especially with you hating her. “Gaia? She got a shit ton of offers.”
“What?” You think for a moment, trying to recall yesterday. But you couldn’t remember seeing her on stage. “I thought she didn’t get recruited…”
“Yeah, well, maybe you don’t know everything. She turned them down.” He forms an O with his lips blowing the sugary cotton candy scent in your face. The smell filled your nostrils making you a little nauseous.
Waving your hand, you clear the smoke that was in your face. “Why would she turn down offers to get recruited? That’s huge.” Your voice tinged with bitterness. You said you didn’t want to be recruited this year, but if you were given the opportunity, you’d take it.
Why would Gaia turn down offers to play on a professional team? Any player would kill to be in her position. She had so many different teams that wanted her and she turned them down? Why?
“Before the event started, she talked with her coach. Her coach reached out to all the teams that wanted her and declined them.” His face remained neutral as he shrugs, his muscles shifting under his black button-up jacket. “I guess she cares more about winning the tournament championship with the team this year than going pro.”
The championship for this year's tournament.
Gaia was hungry for it once again and she was going to try to reclaim that trophy for this year’s championship. She made that known during your little interaction yesterday…
“Because,” Jungkook speaks up, toying with his handful of silver rings. “If Harvard wins again this year, they will make history as the first school to win the championship 4 times in a row.”
I guess it made sense… She wanted to be a part of an important moment like that and make history, but turning down professional teams? Gaia had some balls on her.
He raises an eyebrow, his gaze locked on you. "Well, why didn't you get recruited?" His question hangs in the air like a heavyweight.
Everyone knew how passionate you were about the sport, so he was curious to know where your head was.
He studied you intently, waiting for your response. “I didn’t want to,” you answer firmly, not wanting to give him any more information than necessary.
Jungkook raises his hands in a gesture of surrender, not expecting such a firm response from you. “Alright beasty chill out. No need to get defensive. It was only a question.”
Suddenly, the librarian’s voice crackled over the PA system, breaking the silence. “Attention, class will begin in ten minutes. Please start packing up your belongings and leave the library.”
You began to gather your things, efficiently stacking your books and stuffing your notes into your backpack.
“Class is about to start.” You slung your backpack over your shoulder. “I will see you never,” you grumble, heading towards the exit.
Jungkook leans back in his chair, the sound of your footsteps fading into the background noise of the library. He watches you walk out the door as he drowns in his thoughts.
🏐🥊
Class is now in session!
It was the beginning of 1st period and just like any other typical college classroom, the students scattered around the room waiting for the lecture to start. It was calculus class, so it was usual for your professor to be running behind. He always arrived 5 minutes after the final bell rang.
You and your other best friend Taehyung were slouched in the 4th row at your usual corner of desks in the classroom. It was far away from the other students, just as you liked it. Your desks were the perfect spots for your random conversations and endless shit talking.
Taehyung leans back in his chair, stretching his arms lazily. “You know, I could go for a vacation right about now,” He mused, a dreamy look on his face. “Somewhere tropical, with endless cocktails and big booty bitches to accompany me.”
•hello???
At that moment you cough from choking on your spit from how unhinged Taehyung was. Despite being best friends, it always threw you off because each time his words became more unfiltered. Which is why you were glad nobody was around to hear his nonsense.
“Unfortunately, the odds of that happening is very low…”
Taehyung looks at you for a good minute before dramatically sighing, “Can’t a guy fantasize about escaping reality for a second without you shitting on it?”
You snort, “Excuse me for being realistic.”
“Yeah, and that’s your problem.” He watches you yawn, showing you have no interest in what he’s saying. You casually push your thick frames up on your nose. “Maybe you should take a walk in delulu land. It’ll help that attitude.”
“Oh nooo.” A dramatic gasp comes from your mouth, clutching your clothed chest. “You're talking about my attitude again. I am so hurt.”
You both stare at each other with deadpans, before shortly bursting into laughter. The kind of laugh that easily and often happens between you two.
Taehyung’s shoulders soften as he rests his arms on the wooden desk. His tone shifted to something more curious and serious. “Your sporting event yesterday… how did that go?”
“It was nice and the venue was way bigger and prettier than it was last year.”
His blonde hair brushes against his forehead as he chuckles at how your mood brightens once he asks about the event. “Sounds like it was a big deal. I assume that there were plenty of scouts there?”
You nod enthusiastically, your hands gesturing as you recall the event. “Yes, there were so many teams there, including teams that I like.”
Taehyung tilts his head slightly, his brows furrowing in curiosity. “Did anyone from your team get noticed?”
“Mindy got recruited yesterday.” You smile, thinking about yesterday’s atmosphere. It was delightful watching everyone supporting each other. “I am so thrilled for her.”
“Ohhhhh.” Taehyung’s eyes light up with sudden interest, a mischievous smile spreading across his face. “Mindy? The tall light skin with the curly hair and pretty smile?”
“Yes… that is her.” You slowly nod at Taehyung’s expression change. It wasn’t shocking that he found Mindy attractive, a lot of people did. She has this radiant energy that draws people to her.
He brings his hands together like a criminal mastermind, giving you a certain look. You catch on to your best friend's intentions and you roll your eyes, crossing your arms.
“Wanna hook me up?” Taehyung’s toothy grin grew wider.
You can’t help but laugh, shaking your head in amusement. Of course, he would ask this. Typical Taehyung. “You are unbelievable… you are aware that she’s now focusing on her career, right?”
He shrugs nonchalantly, “And I want to be with her every step of the way.” Taehyung sure as hell was determined. “Besides, Mindy wouldn’t turn me down. We have too many things in common.”
“Like what?” You snort, shaking your head at his antics. He sounded like a fool. “You hardly know Mindy enough to know that.”
A moment of silence creeps upon you both, as he softly strokes his chin. “I’m attractive and she’s attractive. We go together, it’s that simple.”
“That’s it??” You roll your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips betrays your amusement.
“She likes playing with balls and I have balls.”
You freeze, blinking at him in stunned silence. Did he just say that? No, he didn’t…
Taehyung watches your reaction, a cheeky grin playing on his lips. You finally find your voice, still a bit taken aback. “You dirty boy.”
He laughs, clearly enjoying your reaction, and waves his hand dismissively. “Come on, it was just a joke! You know I’m harmless.”
“No…” You shook your head instantly, “… no I don’t know.”
Taehyung instantly props up, remembering that he forgot to ask you. “Did you get recruited?” He earned a punch to the gut from asking such a stupid question. You would’ve been excited and shared the news yesterday.
“No, I did not.” You respond, calmly.
His demeanor immediately became more serious and sympathetic. “You know… who cares? You’re too good for those teams any damn way.” He shrugged casually, but his eyes were warm. “It’s okay, Y/N.”
“Taehyung,” you say, a small smile on your lips. You admired how he always fought on your side. “I am not upset about it.”
Taehyung frowns at how calm you sound and he assumes that you were putting up a front like you always do. He knew you like an open book. “It’s okay to put that brave exterior down. It’s okay to be upset…”
You say his name, this name it’s more serious. “The thing is that I am not upset, Taehyung. I didn’t want to get recruited this year anyway. I’m good.” He nods, taking your word. “Plus… I’m captain now, so I want to focus on that.”
He beams instantly, shooting you a proud father smile. “Congratulations on that. I am proud of you.”
“Thank you.” You beam as well, basking in the moment when Coach first told you the news. It made you feel worthy.
“Now let’s talk about something else.” He groans, comfortably sinking into his chair. “Anything new with you? Besides being captain.”
Your hand creeps up the back of your neck awkwardly, “Well… I did something last night. But it was a mistake.”
He raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “Do tell.” It isn’t often that he hears that Miss Perfectionist makes mistakes, not even the slightest.
“I accidentally liked one of Jungkook’s posts on Instagram last night and of course, it had to be a picture of him all shirtless…sweaty and shit.” You grimace, as you recall the image of Jungkook in the boxing ring. You should’ve stayed curious.
“You’re so damn dramatic.” Taehyung rolls his eyes, slightly disappointed. He was expecting something more interesting. “It’s just a post. I’m sure Jungkook doesn’t care.”
There was a chance he didn’t care. Jungkook didn’t mention it at the library this morning, maybe it’s possible that he doesn’t care or didn’t see it…. Right?
He chuckle, clearly enjoying the discomfort on your face. “Y/N it’s okay, just chill out.”
You still weren’t pleased with the situation but Taehyung was right. Maybe it wasn’t that big of a deal to him. Jungkook hasn’t said anything, so just continue with your day.
Both of you were interrupted by the sound of the classroom door closing, signaling the start of the lecture. The professor finally arrived and began class once he started talking. You and him exchange a knowing glance, to temporarily pause your conversation.
The lecture droned on, and you were focusing and writing down necessary notes. You glance to your left at Taehyung, who is diligently taking notes. This was the first time you saw him so concentrated in this class.
You felt your phone buzz in your pocket, so you pulled it out to see what it was. Once you glance at your screen, your eyes widen.
“Taehyung,” you hiss, nudging him urgently.
He looks up from his paper, concern flickering across his face. “What’s wrong?”
You turn the phone screen towards him. The professor was still talking, so you kept your voice barely a whisper. “Look at my screen.”
@jungkook.97 has requested to follow you.
To be Continued...
@coralmusicblaze @hobismoon @tumeperds @binniethegiant @xumyboo @babycandy111 @btspurplesky @bangtans-momma @snkyuv @busanbby-jjk @sublimewitchdreamer @seulrene @seokjingrande @junecat18 @babybella337
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vodika-vibes · 4 months
Note
Hello! Congratulations on making it to 650! Your fics are some of the best and you deserve all the love and attention.
Okay, could I ask for a romance with Jango Fett in a medieval or fantasy AU? I don’t know; the idea of Jango dressed in warrior king attire just waltzed through my mind and won’t leave me alone. Maybe something along the lines of the relationship started as purely political, but it turns out you’re good for one another and it’s just mutually falling for each other.
For The Dancing
Summary: Your marriage to Jango Fett was decided long before you were old enough to understand what was happening. And it was supposed to be a purely political marriage. Love was never meant to be part of the hand you were dealt. You’re not upset, however, when love appears.
Pairing: Jango Fett x F!Reader
AU Prompt: Fantasy/Medieval AU
Word Count: 1550
Warnings: Arranged Marriage, reader is referred to as wife
Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly
A/N: Alright, so here is the first fic of my new event, and naturally I had to start with Jango! I hope you like it~
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“You seem troubled, wife.” You don’t pull your gaze away from the garnet colored wine that you’re sipping when you hear your husband’s voice from the doorway behind you.
“Not troubled,” You reassure after a moment, as you finally lower your glass back to the table, “Just pensive, I think.”
“May I join you?”
You finally turn your attention towards the man waiting in the doorway, an amused tilt to your lips, “You hardly need to ask for permission, Jango.” He’s dressed down, his ceremonial armor likely sitting neatly on it’s stand.
Oh, how far you and he have come since the day of your wedding.
There was a time when Jango would never dream of allowing you to see him without his armor.
You watch him as he steps onto the balcony and sinks into the chair across from you. Your expression doesn’t waver as he almost falls into the seat, as though there’s a massive weight on his shoulders.
“The talks went poorly then?” You ask, taking in the tension in his frame and the stress lines on his face.
He shifts in his seat and rests his cheek on his hand, “Don’t they always?” His dark gaze scans your face, “The Duchess asked after you.”
“Of course she did.” You reply dismissively, “Likely worrying about how I’ve been treated by you...godless heathens.” You add with an amused smile.
Jango’s lips quirk up into a small smile, “Those were her exact words.”
You shake your head, exasperated. “Honestly, you’d think she’d be better at this by now.”
He chuckles and leans back, “If it helps, she did seem to be genuinely concerned as to your well-being.”
“Hm. Yes, I don’t doubt that at all.”
“You have no intention of seeing her, I take it.”
You lift your wine glass again and absently twist the stem between your fingers, “There’s no point. Satine and I haven’t been close since we were children. And the last time we spoke, she had some things to say to me in regards to our marriage.”
“You’ve mentioned that before.” Jango allows, “Is that why you’re wallowing, wife?”
“Wallowing?” There’s a hint of laughter in your voice, “I suppose it must seem like I’m sulking a little bit.”
“Miles says that you haven’t left our wing since Satine and her entourage arrived.” Jango murmurs, “I am...concerned.”
You regard him fondly, “I have little love for large gatherings, Jango. You know that.”
“I would never dream of asking you to interact with people who cause you distress, wife. Were it in my power, I would cast Satine and her entourage out of our kingdom so that you might be less distressed.”
“It is in your power,” You remind him with an adoring smile, “But I would never dream of asking such a thing. You need these talks to go well.”
Jango taps a rhythm out on the table, “Is that what is troubling you?”
You pause, “The Kyr’tsad have become more bold with each passing day. Entire families have gone missing from the mining villages. Our people are afraid, husband.”
Jango grimaces and rubs the back of his neck, “I know. My hands are tied until Satine and her…” He makes a face and mutters something in Mando’a, “Until she agrees that we need to take decisive action.”
You straighten, “And what, pray tell, is my honorable cousin’s suggestion for dealing with the situation?”
“She would like us to talk.”
“...I...what?” For the first time, in a very long time, you’re properly befuddled.
He chuckles, “That has been the reaction of a lot of people. Including the Jedi who she brought with her to act as mediators.” Jango shakes his head, “The Jedi told her that her suggestion was a fool’s suggestion and that she needed to take the talks seriously, and she doubled down-” He sighs and rubs the back of his neck again.
You set your wine glass back on the table and smoothly stand to walk around the table. Gently, you settle your hands on his shoulders and start working out the tension in his shoulders and neck.
“I am not so eager to become a widow, Jango.” You murmur as he all but melts under your careful touch.
Jango tilts his head back so that his dark gaze is able to lock with your worried one. His hand comes up and presses against one of your hands, “I have no intention of leaving you a widow, wife. I will always come back to you, that I promise.”
“Gods willing,” You murmur in reply.
Slowly Jango turns the chair so that he’s facing you properly, and he stands so you’re standing chest to chest. He reaches out and lightly cups your cheeks with his warm hands. “Have you so little faith in my skills, wife?” He rumbles low in his chest.
Your eyes close as the scent and feel of Jango surrounds you, “It is not your skills that I have no faith in, Jango.” You press your hands over his, “Marching into battle with unwilling soldiers at your side-”
“That will never happen. You needn’t fret, wife.”
Your breath hitches as he presses his forehead against yours, and your eyes slide shut, “Satine is a fool, and she would see Mandalore lost before she gives up her ideals.”
“You know her better than I.” Jango says after a moment, “Would she truly sacrifice our homeland for the sake of her pacifism?”
“She believes that her way is the best way and that everyone will be better following her rules.” You murmur, “In a way, she’s just as fanatic as Pre Vizsla, just in the opposite direction.”
“Are you allowed to say that?” Jango asks, amused. “You are her cousin after all.”
You open your eyes and make a face, “I’ve always been a bit more even-keeled than Satine.”
“And I am grateful for it,” Jango admits, “And so our people.” He lightly strokes your cheek with his thumb and there’s something soft in his gaze. “While I would never dream of asking you to do something that you’re not willing to do, wife, I could use your silver tongue in the meetings tomorrow.”
You hum softly, “Then you shall have it.”
“Thank the stars,” He mutters, “Between you and the Jedi, I think the meeting will be less contentious tomorrow.”
You smile at him and lean into his warmth, “You are still so tense, husband.”
“It has been a very long day.”
“How can I help?”
Slowly, Jango drags his hands down from your cheeks, over your shoulders, and down your arms, until he’s cradling both of your hands with his own. “How long has it been since we last danced?” He asks as he lightly guides you from the balcony and back into the safety of your shared quarters.
“It’s been a couple of weeks, at least. You’ve been busy.”
“Well, that’s no excuse.” He twirls you into his arms, and starts dancing with you around the bedroom. There’s no music, but it’s perfect all the same.
“Careful, Jango.” You murmur as he spins you and then tugs you so you’re flush against his body, “You run the risk of making me fall in love with you.”
“Are you not already? Then I’m not trying hard enough.”
You laugh softly, and lightly brush your lips against his jaw. His hand, settled lightly on your hip, tightens. You’re no fool. You know that Jango loves you, you can tell in the way that he touches you, the way he looks at you, the way he protects you.
In truth, you love him too. You wouldn’t worry so much about him if you didn’t.
And he knows it.
The words are unnecessary at this point.
“I love dancing with you,” Jango murmurs, as he draws you closer to him and tilts your head back so his lips hover just over yours, “Have since the day of our wedding.”
“I feel the same way,” You murmur, “You’re the perfect dance partner.”
Jango closes the gap between your lips and his. He kisses you like you’re his most valued treasure, his lips warm and gentle against your own, though there’s a hint, just a hint, of roughness behind his lips.
Someday, you’re going to push him to see what he looks like when he’s not trying to be gentle with you. But not today.
He breaks the kiss and bumps his forehead against yours one more time, “When this crisis is over,” Jango murmurs, “I would like to speak with you about having a child.”
You blink at him, surprised, and then you smile, soft and slow, “A baby Jango.” You murmur.
“A baby you,” He corrects, “With your clever tongue and my strength.”
“He’ll be perfect.” You murmur with a warm smile.
“Yes. She will.”
You laugh, and slide your arms around him, “Alright, alright. As soon as this is dealt with, we can start trying for a baby.”
Jango grins, “Well, now I’m motivated.”
And then he sweeps you into a deep kiss, and you wrap your arms around him and allow yourself to be lost in him.
Love might not have been in the cards when you married him, but it’s in the cards now. And nothing could make you happier.
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This question might be off topic..👀 or strange perhaps.
In your opinion , how do you think other Strawhats if each of them were in Luffy's place instead and instead of Ace , Luffy died at Marineford?
I am trying to find a way to draw other Strawhats but slightly having troubles with finding best devasted like poses/things they's do upon such trauma☆
This wound up focusing a lot more on the long term aftermath than the initial devastation because I believe it would be pretty similar for everyone (whole lot of screaming and crying), but I hope you still find this useful or at least fun to read.
In the event of Luffy dying at Marineford, everyone would be in shambles. Whitebeard (assuming he lives) would offer them a place to stay on his ship while they regroup and try to grapple with the trauma of what happened. He isn't forcing them to join his crew or anything. They're free to go whenever they please, but he would also welcome them with open arms should they choose to stay.
Zoro splits off almost immediately and returns to his life as a bounty hunter. He is very much still pursuing his goal, just in solitude. He is constantly being inundated with invitations to other pirate crews, but he rejects all of them (sometimes violently). Luffy is the only person he will ever all captain. He blames himself a lot for his death. He was supposed to support and protect his captain, but he failed miserably. He's even more cold and removed than he used to be, and he'll never let anyone else in again. He also drinks more, to the point that it becomes genuinely concerning.
Nami also leaves, but takes more time to do so. She claims that she's only going back to Cocoyasi village temporarily so that she can process everything that has happened around familiar faces, but she never sets foot in the Grand Line again. Luffy was her safety net. Even in the most scary and intense situations, she could find solace in the reassurance that Luffy would be there to handle it... But now he isn't. He's gone forever and she feels lost without him. The Grand Line is much more scary without him leading the way. She will eventually start venturing around the Blues, but that is it.
Usopp cannot handle the survivor's guilt. He latches onto the Sogeking persona to cope after Luffy's death. It becomes extremely rare to see him without the mask, and he doesn't even respond to hearing the name Usopp anymore. He wants to go home so bad, but he can't bring himself to. He can't stomach having to look everyone there in the eye and telling them why he's back. Now would be a great time for Yassop to step up and be a father, but he's nowhere to be seen so Whitebeard steps up to the plate. He supports Usopp and actually talks him through the intense grief that is choking him. It takes time, but Whitebeard does succeed in making Usopp take of his physical and metaphorical mask by properly addressing his emotions on the matter. Usopp decides to stay with the Whitebeard Pirates and accepts becoming one of Whitebeard's sons.
Sanji is devastated. He wanted to leave immediately, but waited around for Nami to be ready to go before heading back to the East Blue. Sanji goes back to the Baratie and refuses to talk about what happened. He blames himself intensely for not being there for the battle and fully believes that it's his fault that Luffy is dead. On top of his smoking habit, he starts drinking. Everything feels so hollow now, and nothing will fill that emptiness. The only times that Zeff or the other Baratie staff members get a glimpse of the old Sanji is when Nami stops by to visit with him. Even then, he's much more subdued. He never really recovers from this and has abandoned the idea of ever finding the All Blue.
Chopper is inconsolable after Luffy's death. He feels like a failure as a doctor for not being able to save him even though there was nothing that he could do. He also chooses to stay with the Whitebeard Pirates and becomes Marco's apprentice. As devastated as he is by Luffy's death, he copes with it relatively well by throwing himself into an education. He does becomes obsessed with curing Whitebeard, however. He can't stand to watch two captains die back to back.
Robin up and vanishes as soon as night comes. This breaks her. She fully believes that Luffy's death was her fault. Someone finally loved and accepted her and look what happened to him. As far as she's concerned, she's cursed. Naturally, she distances herself from literally everyone. She refuses to let anyone else die because of her. She'll spend the rest of her life in solitude, and it probably won't take very long for that to happen.
Franky goes back to Water 7 with the Thousand Sunny after confirming that the Straw Hats were disbanding and that no one else wanted it. He makes the ship into a memorial for Luffy and takes meticulous care of it. While the death absolutely does hurt him, he copes with it the best out of anyone. He is no stranger to grief, and he bounces back relatively quick. He works for Galley-La designing ships, as well as doing so as a hobby.
Brook is similar to Robin in the sense that he believes that he is cursed. He finally let someone in and joined another crew, only for the captain to die almost immediately. He resolves to never join another pirate crew. Unlike Robin, he doesn't completely sink into despair. He pours all of his pain into music, and you can find a lot of clear inspiration from Luffy and other Straw Hats in his music. He also takes the time to visit Laboon whenever he can. He doesn't want the poor thing to be abandoned all over again.
Bonus round for Ace. Ace will never emotionally recover from this, and his grief is messy. He alternates between hysteric sobbing and an uncontrollable rage. One moment he'll be begging a god that he doesn't even believe in to give Luffy back and take him instead, but the next second he'll be destroying everything in arms reach while scream his throat raw. He's cursing Luffy for being a damned martyr. For putting himself somewhere he had no business to be. For leaving him to pick up the broken pieces in Luffy's wake. There is a noticeable improvement in his psyche once he reunites with Sabo and realizes he isn't the last brother left alive, but he is never truly the same after Luffy's death. It should have been him. He is very much at risk of dying not long after Luffy because if Garp doesn't kill Akainu, he will. And he will die trying.
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Internal Meetings
This post also started out as an ask response, but it kept getting longer so we’re making it a post on it’s own! Our own system has internal meetings once every month or so. We’ll share a bit about what that entails along with answering some specific questions which were sent by the anon asker. In a Q&A format so we can be sure to answer everything!
What is an internal meeting?
An internal or in-system meeting is a gathering, conference, or conversation held by multiple members within a system. An internal meeting can have as few as two members or as many as countless, depending on the system and their own capabilities. In our collective of around 20 members, usually 8-12 show up to our meetings. It can get to be a bit crowded!
During our system meetings, we update others on how our life is going internally and externally. We ask each other how they are doing, and have others provide status reports for members who are unable or unwilling to attend. We create an updated roll call for our parts to keep track of our members. We keep each other in the loop about important events happening in and outside the system. And we try to in general just socialize with each other a little bit to help us stay connected and in tune with one another.
How can we go about establishing internal meetings?
Our meetings started off with just three members, and they grew gradually over time and as our communication skills improved. It’s okay for your system meetings to start out small! To start up a meeting, first establish when and where the meeting will be held. Pick a time that works for your system when you don’t have prior obligations and can be fairly uninterrupted. Our own system holds our meetings in the living room of our headspace, with our body physically in our bedroom in the evening when we are calm, safe, and available.
Whoever wants to hold the meeting should tell every headmate they have access to, and those headmates can in turn tell others. If you’ve established a time and place, you can do things like set a reminder on your phone, save the date on your calendar, or leave a note somewhere that’s visible which other headmates can access.
How do we get into a routine of holding internal meetings?
Our system started off haphazardly trying to hold a meeting whenever we felt we needed one… but it got hard to keep up with. We are autistic and incredibly routine-oriented, so incorporating internal meetings into our routine helped a great deal to ensure we could actually have a meeting successfully.
Our meetings now take place on the second Wednesday of every month (or every other month if we feel like we don’t need/aren’t ready to meet) at 7:00 PM. This is a time where we are usually not busy, and are able to set aside an hour or so where we will not be rushed, bothered, or distracted. We have the meeting time set in our calendar, and there are a couple members in our system who have taken the job of keeping us reminded about our meeting and gathering those who want to join when it’s time for the conference to take place.
To those hoping to start up a routine, our best advice is to pick a time that works best for everyone and start making attempts regularly. Whether it’s once a year, bimonthly, once a month, once a week, or once a day, make a habit of attempting to meet whenever your established meeting time comes around. The more often you make genuine attempts to meet, the easier it will be to hold a successful meeting in the future!
What if some headmates can’t/don’t show up?
This is likely bound to happen, especially if your system is large or has high dissociative barriers. And that’s okay! Our own system has a designated minutes taker (or record keeper) who takes notes during the meeting in our physical journal. That way, any part who was unable to attend can check out a record of what happened during the meeting as they are able.
We also have some parts who don’t front often, some of whom also struggle with things like reading and staying grounded. For these parts, our caretaker pays attention in the meeting in order to share what we’ve discussed with them at a later time. If your system has headmates who don’t front often or who may struggle to understand a notes recap, having a designated headmate who can effectively relay the meeting’s events to these system members may be incredibly helpful!
What if some headmates refuse to show up?
It is a very real possibility that some headmates may refuse to attend your system’s internal meeting. They may have certain issues which prevent them from comfortably attending. They may not get along with the rest of your system. They may be sullen or traumatized or obstinate. And while it is important to try and include these headmates in system life as much as possible, we don’t recommend forcing them to show up or scolding, punishing, or shunning them for not attending.
Rather, we’d recommend treating them as you’d treat those who genuinely can’t make it to the meeting. Keep the meeting’s minutes in a central, visible place where they can see when they next front. If someone who has been to the meeting interacts with them in the future, maybe they can share some key points or takeaways. If they are unwilling to listen, be frank with them and insist on telling them only the things which are necessary for the system to know for their own safety. In all this, remind them that they are welcome to attend any future meetings, but will never be shamed for not showing up.
How can we keep internal meetings diplomatic?
Our system has a part whose role is mediator. They act as a calming presence and help to keep the peace when things get heated. If your system has a member who has or is willing to take on this role, maybe let them try to act as a diplomat for a meeting and see how it goes.
Some things to keep in mind for the whole system during meetings:
Things may get intense. There is a difference between heated discussion and useless, spiteful arguing. The former should be welcome in system meetings while the latter should be banned.
Internal meetings are for everyone. If one headmate is facilitating the meeting, that’s fine. But if one member is monopolizing the meeting and taking up all of the time talking about what they want while ignoring the wants and needs of their headmates, that is not fine.
Fights may happen. When they do, ask the members involved to breathe and calm down before expressing themselves. Words exchanged in the heat of an angry moment often sting more than those said after a chance to reflect. Maybe invite overwhelmed or emotional headmates to use REST (<- hyperlink to our post) before speaking in order to engage more effectively.
Do not shame, judge, or make fun of any headmate for concerns or ideas that they bring to the meeting. Do your best to treat each other as dignified equals, even if what someone else says sounds goofy or ridiculous. Take each other’s thoughts seriously and treat each other with as much patience and kindness as you can.
How can we ensure every voice is heard equally?
Our system usually has a roster of members pulled up (like Simply Plural or our own list) during meetings. We take note of who is there, then try to make sure that we’ve heard from everyone who has something to say. Sometimes headmates may want to just observe, and that’s fine! No one should be forced to share if they don’t want to.
Having a designated facilitator can immensely help with making sure every headmate’s voice can be heard equally. The facilitator can chime in with “Greg, we haven’t heard from you in a while, is there anything you’d like to add?” or “Daisy, you’ve been talking the most today, why don’t we let someone else share their ideas?” It’s possible to facilitate in a calm and non-confrontational way that allows all members to be heard while simultaneously not forcing other members to feel like they’re leaving the meeting without fully expressing themselves.
Conclusion
Another long post from us… our apologies! We do hope that this post may have some useful tips for anyone out there who is hoping to start internal meetings in their own system. Please keep in mind that resulte may vary, and it may take a few tries before you’re actually able to hold a successful meeting. That’s okay though - don’t give up and keep trying regularly!
We’d love to hear from y’all! How do internal meetings work in your system? Do you employ any strategies that we haven’t listed here? If you’ve made it this far, thanks so much for reading! Have a great day, everyone!
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funnyburneracct · 9 months
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Hi, I'm Xiao/burningrqs. this post is going to be long. Posting this from a burner so that it doesn't go down the drain when we deactivate.
But essentially, this is an apology to the radqueer community for multiple different things. I'm going to do my best to type this out as well as possible, and I apologize if I miss anything or word things poorly. I am going to explain myself to the best of my abilities, but please keep in mind that my explanations do not excuse my actions by any means.
Post under the cut.
for those who don't want to read it though, TL;DR: I was a complete asshole and I'm genuinely very sorry about it.
So, I want to start off by apologizing in general for the "burning radqueers" thing. Not only was it just not funny, but it was also really weird. I know damn well that if I saw someone pop up with a "burningmogais" blog or something, I would be pissed. So I don't know what made me think that running burningradqueers was a good idea in any sense.
My rude and dehumanizing comments did not help. Regardless of how I view people, what disorders I have, or how symptoms present themselves, it was disgusting of me to act as though I can't be held accountable for my cruelty towards others.
The targeted posts were even worse, and allowing people to just pick a random blog to "burn" was teetering on harassment. It put the user in front of so many people who clearly did not have good intentions towards them, and inherently put the user being "burnt" in danger. I wish I noticed that fact sooner. Even if I disagreed with people or didn't like them for whatever reason, I still should not have felt as though I had the right to post stuff like that.
Adding onto that, I should have never used my ASPD as an excuse for anything. I tend to get defensive when I feel insulted, which is what happened, and I decided to bite back despite being in the wrong. I acted impulsively and out of pure anger, and then tried to defend it, which I shouldn't have. When saying the kinds of things I did, I am open to criticism whether I like that fact or not, and trying to act as though I am immune to that criticism because of a disorder was disgusting on my part.
Another thing, somewhat on a similar note, is that an apology is owed for my hostility in general. Every time it was even lightly suggested I was wrong, I seemed to lash out and get angry. This really just comes down to me needing to learn to admit my wrongs. I should not have made my inability to understand my wrongdoings anyone else's problem.
Then there's also the things I said when I lashed out before deciding to drop burningradqueers entirely. I don't fully remember all of what I said as the event happened during an episode (this does not excuse my words at all by the way. regardless of my state at the time, what I said wasn't okay and should not be excused) and the posts have since been deleted. But, I do remember at one point making harassment out to be a competition of sorts when someone was simply trying to calmly explain to my why the namedropping was not a good move. I can't for the life of me remember why I did that, but I am very sorry about it. A lot of people in the radqueer community have been harassed (and likely do still get harassed constantly), and for me to act like I am the only victim of harassment was wrong on multiple levels.
I'm sure there was a lot of bad stuff I said during that episode, but as I said, I do not remember most of it. I'm sorry that I can't apologize for the specific things I said, but I am apologizing for the situation as a whole.
The entire thing started over me not being able to handle much deserved criticism, and I stood "my ground" despite having absolutely no ground to stand on.
I started burningradqueers over baseless hatred. I didn't know why I was supposed to hate radqueers, or what I was even really hating. I joined the anti community thinking that it is much easier to just move with the pack and hate what everyone else seems to hate, but hatred really isn't that easy. It's exhausting. And realizing how much the anti community really wouldn't want me if I was honest about things made me realize that. Realizing that there are so many antis who would rather see us suffer forever due to dysphoria than see us live happily after getting amputations was rough, and honestly kinda gave me a taste of what radqueers have to deal with every single day, and it felt horrible.
Without realizing it, I managed to do so much damage to a community full of people who deal with exactly the same things I do, a community that is mostly traumatized and mentally ill people who are just trying to get by. Not even just that, but genuinely just people trying to exist and be honest about themselves.
It is not my place to dictate what is and isn't valid in terms of someone's personal identity, and even more, it's not okay for me to treat a whole community like garbage just because I didn't understand it.
Again, I do not want my actions to be excused. I treated people horribly and was a total dick, but I hope that me apologizing can at least make some of you feel better about how I behaved.
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