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#so first ever original post of my blog i suppose
mochaccino-river · 5 months
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should've gone to a professional man smh
inspired by a piece of osomatsu-san fanart that i can't find anymore for the life of me😭 if i ever do, i'll link it in a reblog
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dailyloopdeloop · 21 days
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human loop at a really peaceful picnic with siffrin and the party
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DAY 50: family gathering
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yunhoszn · 3 months
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motive
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PAIRING choi san x f!reader
WORD COUNT 3.37k
GENRES kinda fluff ig﹒smut
WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, friends to lovers, reader is lowkey down horrendous, but san is too i guess, um tbh this is just porn with minimal plot… 😭, reader gets jealous, Tension, i can’t think of anything else for the tame aspect so, making out, exhibitionism, soft dom!san, marking-ish, scratching, vaginal fingering, multiple orgasms, they’re like kinda clumsy in the way that everything is a fucking joke to them, actually a lot of kissing, san’s a sweet talker, public sex, shower sex, unprotected sex (pls be safe), creampie, cutesy ending
SUMMARY it’s annoying that your gym partner constantly gets flirted with right in front of you, especially when you have a crush on said gym partner. good thing your gym partner has a crush on you, too.
MORE HELLO oh my god okay, this is my first written fic on this blog and im actually so nervous posting it… but fuck it! we ball! this wasn’t originally the first fic i was gonna post but,,, the other one is still marinating in the drafts so you get mr. choi san instead <3 ALSO THANK U SM FOR 100 FOLLOWERS HELLO. my blog is 2 weeks old that’s insanity 🤕 big thank u to the loml @kimsohn for betaing for me ilysm maya <<3 pls reblog if u enjoyed and pls moot me :( i need more atiny friends 💔
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“Wow, San, you’re so strong,”
You scoff to yourself as you watch the trio of girls surround him, dainty fingers touching anywhere they can. He laughs sheepishly, shifting his seat on the weight bench. You think it’s funny, really, the fact that he was eating up their attention and acting like he was so shy about it. He was supposed to be your gym partner. 
With a small grunt, you take the dumbbells in front of you and focus on your form in the mirror. You make attempt after attempt to ignore the commotion behind you, but ultimately fail. How could you not stare with all the obnoxious giggling? Even as you lunge, eyes zeroed in on the perfect 90° angle your legs make, you can still make out the group’s reflection in the mirror. 
Every drag of a manicured nail along his bicep, each twirl of hair, it was pissing you off. You had no real right to be mad, though. It’s not like San was your boyfriend or anything. You were just friends, and he’d volunteered to help you out when you mentioned struggling at the gym. What started as him spotting you when needed and giving tips to help improve your workouts, turned into waiting around for him to stop flirting with the girls who flocked over to him. 
Maybe you were being a bit dramatic. It’s not like this happened every time you came to the gym, but it was enough to be irritating. There was also a very high probability that it ticked you off so much because you had a crush on San yourself. Your infatuation was less superficial, however. Yes, he was an attractive man, that was one fact that couldn’t be refuted, but there was more to him than his big muscles and handsome face.
You’d known San since you met in your first year Anthropology course. This was way before he started hitting the gym and building his physique. He used to be this thin, pretty boy. Girls thought he was cute, but that was about it. No one was jumping at the chance to ask him out, or giggling at his every word. No one except for you.
He was not only cute, but he was sweet and funny and just about every good quality you could think of. You didn’t want to be one of those people who thought you were special because you knew him before his insane bodily transformation, though in a way you were. San was your good friend above anything else, and you had a fear instilled in you that that’s all he would ever be. The idea made your stomach churn.
”Do you think you could bench me?”
A sigh pushes past your lips when you see one of the girls get a little closer to him. You’re over working out at this point, ready to just call it a day and go home. What were you doing here if your partner was going to ignore you the entire time? You set the dumbbells back on their respective rack, grabbing your phone and water bottle while simultaneously turning up the volume on your headphones to drown out everything around you. 
You don’t bother telling San that you’re leaving, making your way into the changing rooms to grab the rest of your things from your locker. The frown etched onto your face as you do so serves as a reminder that he would never see you in that way. Perhaps you were perpetually stuck as the girl space friend. With a giant emphasis on the space. 
There’s a gentle grasp around your wrist, making you jump in surprise. You turn around with wide eyes, pushing your headphones off your ears. San stares back at you with an unreadable expression, lips slightly pursed.
”God, San, you almost gave me a heart attack,” you hold a hand to your chest, heaving up and down a little.
”I tried calling your name, but you didn’t hear me,” he shrugs, releasing your arm and shoving his hands into the pockets of his athletic shorts. “Why didn’t you tell me you were ready to leave?”
”You looked busy.” Really, you wanted to hide the jealousy and bitterness from your tone, but ultimately failed, even throwing in an unintentional scrunch of your nose. It feels like your heart dropped to your stomach, resembling a prey caught by its predator when you realize the connotation behind your words.
San smiles at you, a smug grin that’s so out of character for him, you’re a little nervous now. He takes a step forward and you back up until you reach the lockers, one of his hands coming up to rest on the surface near your head. A small chuckle breaches the sound barrier, his eyes drinking in your figure like he might never get the opportunity to do it again. “Y/N… are you jealous?”
Instinctively, you shake your head. What he doesn’t know can’t kill him. But then he’s raising an eyebrow in question and you feel like a puppy with its tail between its legs. You blink up at him, nails digging into your palms to keep your composure. “Should I be?”
His tongue darts out to wet his lips, that same cocky smirk on his features. He knows what he’s doing, you think to yourself. He has you cornered and he’s using it to his advantage. The hand that isn’t holding his weight comes up to your face, fingers gliding along your jaw with a feather light touch. “No, I don’t think so. The only girl who’s attention I really care about is right where I want her.”
Your breathing stutters, halting in your throat and momentarily winding you. Choi San might very well be the death of you. Especially with that darkened look in his eyes, the chocolate brown color now resembling the night sky. His thumb swipes across your lower lip, letting it resume its original place. “What do— what do you mean by that?”
He was giving you a bone, a hint that he could potentially feel the same as you, but you wanted to hear him say it. You wanted the words to leave his mouth and verbally confirm that for you. Want wasn’t even good enough. You needed it. 
“There’s no way you don’t know,” San says, voice hushed. “No way that you don’t know how badly I’ve wanted you since first year.”
Something similar to a choked groan departs from you, your pulse racing in your ears, thumping beneath your chest. You’re too stunned to move, frozen in your spot in case this is all some fucked up dream. It doesn’t even occur to you that someone could walk in, doesn’t even cross your mind that you’re in too public of a setting for this conversation or where it could go. 
“I don’t— I didn’t…” Your eyes attempt to stay on his, but keep flickering down to his mouth. 
“It was so hard for me to play nice guy for so long,” he whispers, a pout adorning his expression. “And today? I couldn’t even stare at you shamelessly because of those damn girls. It’s so fucking annoying when they bother me while I’m trying to flirt with you. But since I’m Nice Guy San, I can’t be rude.”
“You flirt with me?” You snort, your shell shock wearing off and a goofy smile worming its way onto your face. He laughs along with you, tilting away to hide the warmth blooming on his cheeks. The tension is still present, but it’s a lot more bearable.
”I guess I’m not very good at it if you couldn’t even tell,” he glances down at his feet, the confident San from before long gone and now replaced by a bashful version. “Am I going crazy, or is this gonna go somewhere? I don’t want to misread anything and ruin what we already have. The ball is entirely in your court.”
It’s your turn to be shy, shrinking in on yourself slightly. Acknowledging that you had feelings for San was a separate can of worms. There was a big difference between him confessing to you and vice versa. You know if given the stage, you’d just start blabbering on and on about how you feel for him, and that would just be embarrassing for both of you. So instead you say, “Can I show you?”
When he nods, your fingers raise to his jaw, cupping it gently as you lean up. Your lips brush his softly, barely grazing them. His eyes flutter shut, a shiver running down his spine simply from your kiss. A pleasant buzz courses through your veins from your lips to the tips of your fingers. You’ve wanted this forever, you don’t think you could ever go back.
You pull back and San fists the fabric of your t-shirt on your waist, eyes still closed as he chases your mouth. “Fuck, Y/N, can I kiss you again?”
“Please,” you whine, enveloping your lips with his as soon as you get the green light. This time is desperate, noses bumping each other. You’re going lightheaded and dizzy, already intoxicated by him. Your back presses into the lockers behind you, arching into his chest for more. 
He deepens the kiss and it’s almost too much. You’re overwhelmed by the emotions taking control of you, not at all prepared for what would come with actually being with San. It had always been a distant fantasy, something that felt so completely out of reach that you didn’t dare let yourself indulge in the notion for too long. The way his lips lock with yours, fluidly and synchronously like missing pieces of a puzzle, you think you can die happily. 
“As hot as it would be to fuck you right here, I’d rather not get kicked out of this gym,” he chuckles breathlessly. “And since we’re both sweaty from working out, I think we could use a shower. Don’t you?”
You leave a kiss on the corner of his mouth, nodding frantically at his suggestion. Though you imagined your first time with San being in a bed, slow and sensual, you’d be so stupid to complain about this. Fucking in one of the gym showers, where anyone could hear you? Go big or go home. 
He scopes the area to ensure the coast is clear before hauling you into one of the stalls, dragging the curtain shut. You kiss roughly between removing articles of clothing, San turning on the water while his lips make quick work of your neck. Goosebumps form on your skin when the cool water hits it, your fingers combing through his wet hair as he sucks harsh marks into your collarbone and sternum. 
“You’re so gorgeous, babe,” he mutters into your skin, nipping lightly at the tops of your tits. One of his hands travels south, sliding through your folds with ease. He rubs tight circles into your clit, prodding at your entrance with his ring finger. “I need you to cum for me once before I fuck you for real, okay?”
“Mhm,” you moan quietly, hiking one of your legs around his waist. His finger pushes inside you to the knuckle and then curls. Your eyes all but roll to the back of your head, back arching off of the tiled wall. “Feels so good, San…”
“Yeah?” He smiles against your skin, trailing pecks up your neck and along your jawline. You whimper in his ear, cunt sucking in his finger greedily. He adds a second, the middle one, and applies pressure to your clit with the heel of his palm. The sight of you falling apart by his hand alone is sending blood rushing to his brain. 
Your body feels hot to the touch, risking a downwards glance at where his fingers disappear into your pussy. It forces another whine out of you, your head tossing back. You tug at the strands of hair that stick to the nape of his neck, steeling yourself the only way you can in this position. San just seemed to know you, to know exactly what you needed without you having to tell him. Either he was really good at guessing, or everything he did seemed to be perfect, because you’ve never climbed to the summit this quickly before. 
There’s a knot in the pit of your stomach that weaves itself tighter and tighter with each curl of his digits and each swirl of his thumb on your clit. You think you could cry from how attentive he was, from how determined he was to provide you pleasure. Your cunt contracts around his fingers, and he can sense the precipice of your orgasm, speeding up his pace. 
You squirm around in his hold, allowing him to spread apart your thighs so he can brush the pads of the digits buried inside of you up against that spongy sweet spot. You’re trembling now, nearing the edge of that familiar cliff. “San, baby, I’m— god— I’m so close,”
“Let go for me, my love.” He coos into the corner of your mouth, hushing your moans. He doesn’t slow his assault, inching you further and further towards your release like it was his own personal mission. That knot in your belly begins to unravel until it slips through your grasp completely, your orgasm rocking into you like a tidal wave. 
San aids you as you ride out your high, already spent before he’s even gotten the chance to be inside of you. He kisses you tenderly, pulling out his fingers with caution since you were still so sensitive. Your nails claw down his front, scratching his abdomen with a purpose. He shudders beneath you, lips curling up into another soft smile. 
“What?” You ask with a giggle, mirroring his expression when he wipes water from your face. 
“Nothing,” he shakes his head, grin unwavering. “You just look really pretty like this.”
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to get into my pants, Choi San.” You tease, yanking him down for a saccharine kiss. He reciprocates without hesitation, drawing his palm on your thigh so he can wrap it around his waist again. 
“Me? Never…” He laughs along your mouth. “Is it working, though?”
You roll your eyes playfully, reconnecting your lips. “Are you gonna fuck me for real now?”
“What kinda question is that?” He glides the tip of his cock between your folds, shutting you up instantaneously. He’s heavy where he sits, slipping the shaft through your lower lips. “I’m gonna fuck you so good, you forget where you are, baby.”
Before you can even let out another sound of appreciation, he’s stretching you out, cock thrusting up into your pussy without warning. You jump up a bit to hook your other leg around his hips so he’s supporting your whole weight. The new angle makes it easier for him to delve deeper in your cunt, his dick accessing places you’d never knew existed. 
After he’s sure you’ve adjusted to his length, he starts to move, pistoning in and out of you much more forcefully than he did with his fingers. Your lips part for a voluminous moan, but then you hear a group of loud girls entering the shower area and San slaps a hand over your mouth. He makes no effort to stop, fucking into you without a single care for the people on the other side of the shower curtain. 
“Did any of you see where San went? He disappeared so fast.” 
You recognize the voice as belonging to one of the girls who was openly flirting with San while you were working out. Not even needing to see her, you can picture the exaggerated pout on her face based on her tone alone. 
“He probably followed after that stupid bitch he’s always with.”
Your half lidded eyes meet San’s but he still pays no mind to them, digging his nails into your plush thighs. He pulls all the way out, just to slam his cock all the way back in. His pace leisures, but his power doesn’t, abusing your cunt with every snap of his hips. 
“I think I’m gonna ask him out next time I see him. I have to stake my claim before someone else does.”
He holds back a laugh, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. You drown out their conversation after that, too focused on the feeling of his cock dragging against your walls so deliciously to even worry about those idiot girls. Little did they know he was closer than they thought…
Thankfully, they leave not much longer after that, and he uncovers your mouth. You gasp for air, panting feverishly when he picks up his speed again. Your bottom lip quivers with a whine, too fucked out to conjugate words that make sense. 
“You’re taking me so well, baby. Taking me like a fucking princess,” San praises. He groans, water droplets slipping along the valleys of his sculpted chest and abdomen. It drips with every roll of his hips and every thrust of his cock into your pussy. This was what he had been building up to, what he’d been dreaming of for years. “Who’s fucking you like this?”
“Mmm,” you moan, supping him in deeper, further, as cavernous as humanly possible. “You, San— fuck— y-you are.”
You arch your back, sneaking a hand in the middle of the two of you and pressing the pads of your fingers harshly on your clit when you do so. San holds you closer to him so your pelvic bones nearly clash each time he punches into you. The change in depth that he fucks you has your cunt squelching, any semblance of coherent thought escaping you. 
Your vision goes blank, stars decorating the backs of your eyelids as your second orgasm blindsides you. Not a sound leaves you after it knocks into you, cumming with so much force you think you might pass out in San’s arms. When you’ve finished, you let out a guttural groan, walls fluttering around his cock. 
“Gonna cum— shit— where do—“ you interrupt him with a whimper. 
“Cum inside of me,” your begging tone has him spilling into you practically on command. He fills you up perfectly, a moan from deep within him reaching your ears. You both stay like that for a moment, skin sticking to the other’s due to the thin sheen of sweat coupled with the steam of the shower coating your bodies. 
You can feel the rise and fall of his chest when he breathes, one of your hands coming up to caress his back gently. He pulls out with a wince, palms resting on either side of you as he recuperates. He breathes through his nostrils, forehead glued to your shoulder. His hands rub up and down your sides soothingly. 
“It’s safe to assume you’re gonna turn that girl down when she asks you out, right?” You ask suddenly, attempting to diffuse whatever’s in the air between you now. San laughs into your shoulder. 
“Y/N, I’m turning down any girl who asks me out from now on,” he stands upright, biting his lip before kissing you gently. “I don’t think my girlfriend would appreciate that very much.”
You raise an eyebrow at him. “Girlfriend?”
“Am I being too overzealous?” His nose scrunches up. 
“You’re being the right amount of zealous, I think,” you brush away a strand of wet hair that falls into his eyes. “But I think your ‘girlfriend’ would like it if you actually asked her to be your girlfriend.”
Choi San is the prettiest man you’ve ever set your sights on, but somehow, he looks even prettier smiling down at you after having sex with you in a gym shower. It’s a feat that should be considered illegal, and you should receive restitution for the distress it’s caused on your heart. 
“Will you be my girlfriend, Y/N?”
And well, maybe you’d deal with that later. It was kind of difficult to ignore that sparkle in his eyes, especially when it was directed at you. You nod without a second thought. 
“I would love nothing more.”
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© yunhoszn. do not steal, claim, or repost. 
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peachsayshi · 5 months
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✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ being wrapped in your arms feels like coming home ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
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minors / ageless blogs / blank blogs - do not interact.
notes: here is a little drabble in honor of toji's birthday! this piece was originally titled as "adoration" but I changed it to this instead. I'm taking a small posting break, but I'll be back to my regular schedule within a week! I'm sorry if I haven't been responding to tags or messages, but I will do so soon <3 I hope you're all having a wonderful time and I'm sending all my well wishes out to you! xo
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tags: widow toji; age gap (reader is 30 while toji is in his early 40s); a little angsty; toji attempting to break up with you but failing because he's oh so in love
toji overstayed his welcome which was only supposed to last the scorching heat of summer, but he found himself lingering through the quiet stillness of fall. winter came in with a brisk chill and gloomy skies, and that's when toji knew it was time for him to end things with you.
he’s lost interest far quicker in previous relationships. they served their purpose of healing over the wound in his heart, of soothing away the ache of loneliness. he oftens forgets that he was once a loyal, loving husband whenever he abandons yet another fling.
the difference, however, is he at least had the guts to verbally cut things off before.
fucking pathetic, he thinks as he scolds himself. he's been a coward, reducing his actions to disappearing before the sunlight peeks through the horizon, and avoiding any chance of waking you up. he ensures that he is never there to see the way your brows furrow with concern when your hand meets the cold pillow, because otherwise he would falter in his attempt to escape.
this has been going on for over two weeks now but last night was the first time you've actually snapped at his cold, detached behavior. he approached the argument with nonchalance to wither you down, shrugging off the gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach and then walking out halfway through the fight.
he stayed at a motel thinking that maybe you have finally taken the hint that he's done.
he arrives back to his apartment only to be met with unfamiliar silence. the entrance of his home is dark and lifeless, and it's so quiet he can even hear a pin drop. there's a tightness in his chest, followed by a wave of disappointment that runs over him like a feverish shiver.
despite his hard headed decision, he's still anticipating on hearing your lovely voice to greet him as he walks through the door.
he knows it's selfish.
toji expected many things to happen after last night's fight. he figured the reaction to him leaving you (again) would be far bigger. a screaming phone call or a string of cursing text messages to call him out on his shitty behavior.
after all he deserves it for acting like an insufferable asshole.
he tries to swallow his guilt but it remains lodged in his throat when he acknowledges that this might actually be the end. 
the expression on his features falls.
it’s better this way, he consoles, dragging his feet across the floor to approach his kitchenette. he shrugs off his beaten up, oversized coat and tosses it over one of the chairs. he opens one of the cupboards, and grabs a mug to prepare himself a cup of tea.
she’s too young to settle for a guy like me, he continues. widowed with two kids who he barely sees anymore, working paycheck to paycheck just to make ends meet…
a deadbeat.
he exhales, swirling his brew in his ceramic cup. the aroma of sweet leaves dances up the spiral of steam to kiss his nose.
she deserves more than me.
he places the kettle down but stares at the cup mindlessly, losing all train of thought as his hands grip onto the edge of the counter. 
he can acknowledge that his insecurities are clouding his judgement on something truly special, even though this was only ever meant to be purely physical.
except, the sex was growing more intimate. the experience wasn't about pleasure for him anymore. he would find himself losing all focus to the depth of your pretty eyes, stealing kiss after kiss like your mouth was the source of where all his happiness belongs.
belonged.
belonged.
it’s over now, he thinks again. it has to be.
a faint patter of footsteps distracts him, prompting him to ease his hold on the counter as the muscles on his face relax. his heart steadies itself, and he draws in a breath when he feels two arms delicately twine around his waist.
“you’re...still here...” he points out in shock. 
he feels you press your forehead into his back. “of course, where else would I be?” 
he clears his throat to release the guilt then spins on his heel to face you.
"I thought you might have taken off," he bluntly states as he rests his lower back against the counter.
his heart swells, emanates flurries of golden sparks when he meets your gorgeous irises. the will to carry on with his decision crumbles when he catches the corner of your mouth tick into a slight grin.
"I thought about it," you reply casually, loosening your grip to place your palms flat on the side of his stomach. "but the truth is I'm worried about you and I just…want to talk things out…make sure you're okay...”
“I’m the one acting like a jerk and you’re worried about me?” he blurts.
you quirk your brow at the slip of his question. “so, you know you’re acting like a jerk?”
toji’s eyes widen slightly, a hint of pink tainting his cheek. “I asked the question first.”
you purse your lips playfully, aware of the crack that's been revealed and ready to swing once again with another blow.
“it’s because you’re acting like a jerk that I’m worried about you,” you explain, “you’re not yourself when you’re unsettled about something…”
his face warms, the hue of pink deepening into a stronger blush. the familiarity of pointing out his personal traits feels all too homely. seven months shouldn’t feel like a forever but in this bubble with you time ceases to exist.
you trail the pads of your finger tips up his torso, your hands clasping around the back of his neck as you press all your soft and sweet parts right up against the frame of his body.
the brush of your lips on his scar prompts him to flutter his eyes close. he fails to stop himself from holding you then, his firm hands reaching for the outline of your waist
“so,” you murmur with a tempting kiss as you return to your question, “you know you’re acting like a jerk then?”
please don’t make me say it, he thinks, please don’t make me unravel right in front of your eyes.
he squeezes your side, whispering a defeated “listen…”
“did I do something wrong?” you question, a hint of pain laced through every vowel which only makes his heart ache further. “did something happen?”
toji shakes his head.
“it’s not you,” he grumbles. “look, you asked me a couple of weeks ago if this thing between us was serious and…it shouldn’t be.”
you narrow your gaze, tilting your head with adorable confusion that makes toji want to kiss you right there on the spot.
he can feel you pluck at the fabric of his sweater nervously, “why not?”
toji drops his head and sighs.
“c’mon, doll, let’s be real. I’ve got nothing to give you other than a good fuck in this shitty apartment. you're better off finding someone else and I don't want to waste your time”
you press your mouth into a firm line. “your behavior…” you reply, nipping your bottom lip slightly as you gather your thoughts. “are you acting like this because you…want to end things with me?”
toji has never felt smaller. you’ve reduced him into a shriveled pea rolling around his scuffed up boot. “look, it’s better this way, alright?” he admits with a raise of his head, still refusing to outwardly say what you easily deduced. “it's better to move on before things get too complicated…”
the silence hangs heavy in the air, the tension so thick toji feels like he can’t breathe properly. his heart rattles with no restraint, and he finds himself suddenly lightheaded. an apology rests on the tip of his tongue, ready to take back everything he just bombarded you with but his throat simply tightens once more when your hands cradle his strong jaw.
“I like your apartment,” you quietly speak, “your bed sheets always smell so good, and you fixed the water pressure after I complained that it sucked…”
toji blinks back his surprise.
“I also notice that you burn the candle that I got you and that you switched laundry detergents when your old one gave me that weird rash,” you giggle and toji couldn’t help but huff out an embarrassed laugh himself. “the windows let in the best kind of sunlight, and it’s always so cozy in here…”
you press your lips against his mouth to leave a chaste kiss, “as for the company…” you add on, nuzzling the tip of your nose over his, “I consider you more than just a good fuck.”
toji can physically feel himself wilting underneath the heat of your gaze. “I’m just looking out for you, doll.”
"you can look out for me by making me breakfast instead of running away from me..."
he looks serious but his eyes are sincere, holding a level of tenderness that he only reserves for you. his palm moves to seek out your lower back, a hint of pressure pulling you back into his warmth.
your lover has stayed tight lipped about his past, but over his period with you he's found himself spilling out a few secrets here and there.
"I haven't done this in a long time," he vulnerably admits.
"I know," you reassure him, "but...the real question is, do you want this?"
he parts his lips ready to seal the last nail in the coffin, ready to give you the chance to walk out of his life for good. but you're gazing up at him from underneath your eyelashes, your determined stare an opening of your own mercy. your plush, supple lips summoning his cowardice into oblivion.
"toji?"
his breath hitches, his apprehension silenced by the urgency of his desire.
you're so lovely, he thinks. you feel like home.
"I want you," he reveals, his deep voice smoky and untethered, releasing enough sentiment in those three words that he can feel you tremble in his arms. "I just don't deserve you. I don't want you getting caught up in my bullshit..."
""you're a lot sweeter than you look, you know?" you run your fingers through the streaks of his black hair, combing it back to reveal his forehead. "you deserve to be happy, toji, and...and I think I can make you happy..."
your aura beams with delight when he flashes you a wolfish grin in return. a smile you've grown to adore so deeply. his apology comes in the form of a kiss, one that's gentle and slow. a stroke of fire burns up the back of your neck, making you quiver in places when he glides his tongue across yours. you hum softly into his lips while he releases a content sigh, the barrier he's been keeping up turns to ashes beneath your feet.
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seyaryminamoto · 3 months
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Azula's most overlooked characterization element
Why, hello there.
It is I.
And I'm back on my bullshit.
I didn't WANT to be. But a bunch of factors pulled me back in.
For the record: I'm not here to start any fights or light the fuse of arguments that I most likely won't have time or interest in responding to. What I AM here for... is to prove that there's something out there a bunch of people are delighted to sleep on because acknowledging it would render maaaany simplistic interpretations entirely invalid...
That group of people includes the fandom, of course. And the original show's staff. And the liveaction's staff, to a fault. Surely the TTRPG ones too. And absolutely, the comic book writers.
Hell, I'll even include MYSELF in that group, even though I'm making this post right now.
I found it really curious that I very recently saw this element mentioned in a pretty neat blog I follow, @atla-lore-archive, I absolutely advise anyone who hasn't checked out said archive to do it if you wish to understand a lot of the "extra lore" the fandom had access to, back in the old days when the turbonick ATLA site still existed and used to be the only source of deeper knowledge about the fandom besides the occasional interview that most people didn't even know where to track down.
But the funny thing is that the post I'm talking about proved that even Turbonick forgot about the people this post is about :')
And that would beeeeeeee...
*cue drumroll*
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Lo and Li!
What makes Lo and Li an important subject to discuss?
Why, a lot of things. Among them, the fact that almost nobody brings them into the core focus of any analysis made about Azula's character. I've personally mentioned them once or twice I believe, mostly as negatives, there's but ONE positive aspect I've ever found of them: them being non-benders MIGHT be a reason why Azula isn't shown as being quite so obsessive with firebending supremacy as Zuko was supposed to be.
But that's very much the sole good thing I can think to say about them and it's completely subjective, as good as a headcanon, because we don't even KNOW if they influenced Azula in that sense!
Why do they seem to get overlooked quite as much? Why... let's start thinking about it, shall we?
Lo and Li are Azula's firebending teachers. As far as anyone can tell, they're also her advisors. These two people should be an essential part of Azula's life... but ironically, we seldom see them with her. Most times, Azula isn't around these two. Whenever she is? It doesn't usually look like she's having a good time.
And that's no surprise, considering her first scene with those two very much puts forward a dynamic of cold distance between Azula and her mentors: Azula is bending LIGHTNING. We have not heard of other lightningbenders until that point, and once the full show wraps up, there's only THREE (Azula, Ozai, Iroh). Out of those three? Only one is a fourteen-year-old girl. It's very easy to assume Azula's lightning is actually a skill she mastered unusually early in life, perhaps relatively recently, hence the practicing... but she's pulling it off. She's succeeding. She's doing something that genuinely catches a first-time viewer off-guard!
And Lo and Li's entire opinion of what she did is: "Almost perfect. One hair out of place."
This tells you the Fire Nation's idea of "imperfection" is... insane. Strict. Imposing. Unyielding. Unforgiving. Azula's reaction isn't to get angry at Lo and Li for saying what they did: it's to get angry at herself and try again.
But... that's not the only instance where we see Azula getting angry around Lo and Li.
The next few times Azula is around them, she doesn't seem to have much of an emotional reaction (one is when they tell her to find other allies, the other when they herald her as a great hero who returned home from Ba Sing Se). In the second of these scenes, Lo and Li are praising Azula as incredible, beautiful, all sorts of grand things...! And Azula smiles. She smiles at the crowd. She's not smiling at the old ladies who are praising her... she's mostly just happy to know her people are welcoming her as a hero indeed! Most the fandom would go "true! what an ungrateful bitch! She should've been happy that Lo and Li complimented her that way!!" Me? I wouldn't say that at all. Not just because I love Azula to pieces? But because the only information we have of Azula's dynamics with these two... doesn't seem compatible with the idea that what Lo and Li are saying here is for AZULA'S benefit.
Anyone who's had a hypocritical parent/caretaker/teacher must have endured awkward, horrible, unpleasant moments where this adult figure treats you like shit in private but in public holds you as this grand example, and a perfect child, and they never seem to stop saying they're soooo proud of you even though you NEVER felt that what they're saying is true. Maybe the first few times, you're naive enough to believe it. By the tenth time of incongruent messages? You start to realize they're talking you up as a way to make themselves look better. They're trying to show they're doing their job at raising you/training you, be it whatever it may. The praises are not FOR you... they're for a third person to hear and think "Oh, this adult's so cool, saying nice things about this kid they're responsible for! Nice!"
... You're starting to get the picture now, I'm sure.
Lo and Li reappear in the Beach. Azula is notably chill, enjoying the ride, talking casually with Ty Lee, telling Zuko to lighten up and to stop taking Ozai's choices personally, right? She seems... content. Relaxed.
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Then, everything changed when Lo and Li attacked.
We don't even see why Azula is making this face at first. But she does it AT ONCE when their ship reaches the dock.
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Who is there indeed...?
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The stars of our post! :') if it isn't our elderly twin ladies... who brought Azula to a very disappoting beach house. And when Azula sees the house in question, she makes THIS face.
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Judge however you may... even Ty Lee is weirded out by the beach house, going by that expression. Zuko and Mai aren't impressed either. But Azula? The look on her face isn't merely disappointment if you ask me... part of it looks a bit like embarrassment too? This isn't at all what she was expecting when she arrived (she has her old beach house for standards, which makes this extra underwhelming, I'm sure). She counts on Lo and Li to provide them with a place to stay, it goes implicit... and then this is what they do. It most likely isn't what she promised the other three in terms of where they'd stay, hence, I'd dare say there's a component of embarrassment here.
Shortly afterwards, we have our well known scene with Azula being utterly unconcerned with Lo and Li's apparent wisdom to the point of yawning over it. This, too, tells you she's just not interested in whatever those two have to say or bring to the table. Then, they show up again at mealtime and I think Azula just ignores them the whole scene.
After this? Lo and Li vanish until the finale. And what do they do in the finale? Why... it's the first time anyone expresses a verbal concern over Azula's wellbeing! Ah! A sign that Lo and Li have SOME affection for Azula! This time, you pesky Azula fans, you CAN'T twist this into a bad thing! For sure!
... Can't we, tho? :')
What IS Azula's reaction to: "We are concerned for your wellbeing"?
"My father asked you to come here and talk to me, didn't he‌? He thinks I can't handle the responsibility of being Fire Lord. But I will be the greatest leader in Fire Nation history."
And here, my friends, is when we have finally hit the jackpot.
Lo and Li could have been Azula's Irohs. She could've had TWO of him! Then you'd say: "hey! Ozai is such a dick he let Azula have two elderly wise ladies guiding her but only gave one old wise dude to Zuko! Rude!" and it would be further proof of Ozai's favoritism of Azula, right?
... But actually?
Lo and Li are no such thing. Lo and Li aren't moral compasses for Azula in the least. Lo and Li are not beacons of wisdom that genuinely help her sort her way through life. Worth noting: THEY COULD HAVE BEEN WRITTEN THAT WAY. They're not. They're not part of mysterious secret societies, they don't help Azula in any objective, significant, tangible way... there's very much nothing to say they EVER fulfilled the role Iroh did for Zuko. What role, then, were they fulfilling instead?
Why... I think we ought to listen to Azula, shouldn't we?
My take: Lo and Li are OZAI'S STAND-INS.
Someone's going to say "hey why would you assume that when Azula said this in the middle of a breakdown?? Surely she was just DELUSIONAL and PARANOID and ashdgkadhsgkjgh...!"
... Let me counter that one with a fun little analysis excercise:
WHY are Lo and Li Azula's firebending teachers and advisors?
The finale very directly tells us these two are not benders. We could've assumed they were! They're not: Azula's teachers are non-benders.
Has a single person out there ever asked themselves WHY this is the case?
How the hell is Azula, prodigy of the blue fire, epic lightning, cruel and powerful and precise and deadly bending... training under two elderly nonbenders?
Bringing this to a real-life example: do you remember what it was like when you were in P.E. classes and your teacher told you to spend 20 minutes jogging, and if you ever stopped you had to do 20 crunches and then get back to the jogging, and every time you stopped he'd tell you the same thing and you'd want that guy to vanish from the face of the planet? I don't know if that was only my experience, but I rather doubt it.
What did kids typically think/say when that happened?
"I wanna see that old fart doing the same shit he's making us do..."
It's a headcanon indeed to say that this is how Azula must have felt over Lo and Li, but it's VERY likely to be the case. But I'd dare say, in Azula's case, it's even worse because, to put it in another way? It's like taking programming lessons from someone who's never learned a programming language. They'll tell you you're getting things wrong without knowing how to help you get them right because they just DON'T KNOW what you're doing, and are outright INCAPABLE of what you're trying to achieve. They can't offer good guidance based on experience because they have ZERO experience on that subject! And yet they want PERFECTION from you! They expect it!
Lo and Li are these teachers for Azula. We only see them in one scene? And yet everything in the rest of the show suggests that they bring nothing important to the table for Azula, be it professionally, be it personally, be it emotionally... not in any aspect of life.
And this, if you ask me, is why the OG show barely ever brings them into scenes. Why the comics flat-out forgot they existed and even featured people like Sozin and Azulon in Azula's beach hallucinations but NOT the two ladies who looked after her and trained her. Why the live-action didn't even FEATURE them.
And us? The fandom? The fic writers?
I HAVE NO IDEA WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME I READ A FIC THAT HAD LO AND LI INVOLVED IN IT.
I'm not even saying as main characters, I don't even know if that exists, frankly: I mean as minor, or background characters. I have NOT seen those two be used in basically ANY fics I've read. I've scarcely used them in mine! In fact, I PURPOSEFULLY got rid of them early on in Gladiator because I didn't want them to sabotage and get in the way of Azula's progress as a character and I believed they'd do exactly that. They were an obstacle rather than anything useful, so I did away with them and then realized they could still occasionally serve some purpose in certain situations: I even had Azula visit them once and they were actually helpful! Fancy that! But... that's it. That's as far as I could go with them. I can't do MORE with those two because they're not characters one particularly feels compelled to work with.
And from what I've seen? That's the case for everyone.
So, I ask again:
WHY ARE THEY THERE?
WHAT IS THEIR ROLE?
WHAT IS THE POINT OF AZULA HAVING NON-BENDING TEACHERS?
Let's go further and further into logical thinking here, shall we?
Azula is a child. Fourteen years of age at the time she's introduced in the OG show.
Azula has no power over many things around her, particularly, her upbringing. That's in the hands of the adults around her. Her mother, up until she vanished, had some hand in it, then, it all falls to Ozai.
Ozai has been Azula's sole parental figure since Ursa left.
Ozai is the one who would reasonably call the shots regarding Azula's education, as all parents are wont to do... ESPECIALLY when he's a king with absolute power over his children.
... so, Lo and Li? Ozai either gave them the position as Azula's teachers personally, or someone else (Ursa) did, and Ozai either didn't WANT to remove them from the role (cue "Ozai being sentimental over Ursa" theories), or Ozai didn't give a flying fuck about who was training his daughter (cue "Ozai is an abusive dick without a heart or a brain" theories).
Anyone, of course, would likely interject here to say surely Ozai ALSO trained Azula himself because that's what he'd do with his favorite kid, right? See. I don't even disagree with that notion.
BUT IT'S A HEADCANON.
We have zero evidence that Ozai trained her! None! I totally will write that into Azula's backstory in many of my stories, but there's NOTHING in canon to suggest this actually happened and that Ozai was genuinely, actively, frequently involved in her progress as a firebender. Assuming he HAD to be is, still, a headcanon. You can't say that with any more certainty than mine when I say I believe Azula loves spicy foods. Does it seem to be something that would fit with her character? I think so! But if eventually canon goes "AZULA CAN'T STAND SPICY FOODS LOL JOKE'S ON YOU!" I... can't even say a thing about it. People's food tastes aren't reflective of their personalities. They really could do whatever they want in that respect. And that's the case for ANYTHING that isn't part of the show's storytelling or the character backgrounds or any texts we consider canon!
POINT BEING: Ozai, regardless of what you want to headcanon, had Lo and Li as Azula's teachers. HIS FAVORITE CHILD... and her only official instructors are two non-benders. Yang added Kunyo as an old instructor of Azula's when she was young, sure! But Kunyo was sooooo qualified that baby Azula was already kicking his ass. So, for that matter? He doesn't really seem to have been a cornerstone of her firebending development and the only other known teachers for Azula are Lo and Li.
For the last time: Azula's teachers are NON-BENDERS. AS CHOSEN, SANCTIONED, APPROVED AND ACCEPTED BY OZAI.
And with those two remarking on absolutely STUPID stuff like "one hair out of place"? Azula still became the incredible firebender she was.
Cue, now, the irony where Zuko was stuck in the basics 3 years after setting out of the Fire Nation... WITH IROH ACTIVELY SERVING AS HIS MENTOR.
You're not gonna tell me that Lo and Li would EVER be better instructors than Iroh, or are you? Because that makes no sense. Full-stop. Iroh is supposed to be the most profound and complete firebender thorughout the show because he's spiritually enlightened even though I admit I think that's bullshit and he doesn't just teach Zuko how to set things on fire, he actually makes him learn theory and spirituality and his teachings are more profound than just "ONE HAIR OUT OF PLACE".
So.
Banished as he is, disgraced and seen as trash by Ozai, Zuko STILL has a better teacher than Azula does.
... Is this LOGICAL? Is this NORMAL? Does this make SENSE?
If you think Ozai's favoritism of Azula takes the shape of "I'll give you every little thing you ask for, sweetheart, I love you very much, here, have ten million doll houses so you can set them on fire, and all the ponies you ask for and on your next birthday I'll buy you a baby dragon and you'll get your own region of the Fire Nation to govern and a fancy title..."?
Then Lo and Li, unfortunately, are right here to be a HUGE contradiction with your interpretation of Ozai and Azula's relationship.
Azula should have THE BEST teachers. Azula does not. Azula doesn't even LIKE them. Azula is openly shown to dislike them! To be annoyed around them, ANGRY when they're teaching her, she feels they're here to keep tabs on her for her father! In a sense, they're Ozai's SPIES on her! :')
Hence? Ozai's favoritism of Azula MIGHT not be what everyone keeps pretending it is. Maybe Ozai didn't do everything to make Azula get things EASILY... and to be fair? That's not what Zuko said anyway. People interpreted it that way... but that's not REALLY what he says:
"Everything always came easy to her. She's a firebending prodigy, and everyone adores her. My father says she was born lucky. "
Every line in this statement is absolutely questionable and all of it sounds like buuuuullshit to me. This is ZUKO'S perspective. And sorry not sorry, but it's tell-don't-show. People swear by his opinion of Azula and pretend he's absolutely objective about it. He's not.
But "Everything always came easy to her," does not mean "EVERYTHING WAS ALWAYS HANDED OVER TO HER ON A SILVER PLATTER." And yet this is what the fandom has constantly interpreted it as.
Azula might just be a prodigy. Maybe she started out ten steps ahead of her brother: this does not mean she needs no guidance, no training, no help. She's seen training herself over perfectionism in her very second scene of Book 2. And the guidance she gets in order to achieve perfection is actually, objectively, stupid.
This is what Ozai chose for her. This is an OBSTACLE for her growth, just as much as Lo and Li were obstacles for me when I was starting with Gladiator! Azula doesn't have it EASY: she just works herself so damn hard that even shit that should HINDER her does NOT do that. And even when her brother objectively has spent THREE YEARS with an advantage in the shape of being trained by one of the VERY BEST firebenders out there? Azula is still beating Zuko at it. With two non-benders as her teachers.
Where am I going with all this?
To the fact that Lo and Li are overlooked in just about every instance of the fandom.
To the fact that nobody includes them, and their influence on Azula, in their analyses of who Azula is.
I've seen a shitstorm rising over the Netflix characterization of Azula: SHE'S TOO ANGRY, they say. Non-stop. She's sooooo hysterical, all the time! She's just pissed perpetually!
Well. I haven't finished the show yet. But the scenes I've seen Azula in so far? They don't fit the fandom's view of Azula because...
... they're not taking Lo and Li into account.
As usual.
:')
Azula's reactions around Lo and Li being frustration, anger, irritation EVEN in scenes like The Beach, where Azula was FINE until she sees them? That shit is storytelling that went over sooooooo many heads, EVEN MINE! When I saw people going on about how canon Azula is... not insecure? Not angry? Has no frustrations and was only ever smirking 24/7? I... didn't feel that was right. I knew it wasn't right. And when I thought about it hard enough? I realized that one reason why this interpretation of Azula is IMMEDIATELY dismissable is because of Lo and Li: those two constantly made Azula angry. Even if that wasn't their intent, it's nonetheless the effect they'd have on her. And Azula didn't like having them around. She CLEARLY didn't appreciate them the way Zuko does Iroh, for instance! And this could be taken as a flaw on Azula's part... if we EVER saw evidence that these two ladies actually love Azula as a grandchild, or so. If we had any evidence that they actually have cared for her in ways nobody else ever did. If maybe the ones Zuko talks about, upon saying "EVERYONE LOVES AZULA" were these two! And maybe he was jealous of them! Maybe he wanted two old ladies to watch his every move and tell him his every flaw!
... Clearly I'm joking about that last thing, but anyway...
There's nothing to tell us Lo and Li were anything but Ozai's assigned watchdogs to keep control and tabs over Azula. That Azula's immediate reaction upon hearing that someone cares about her is "Oh fuck off, my dad sent you here because he doesn't trust me!" is... telling. It's not just paranoia speaking, even if it sure can be read that way! It's actually Azula's perception of those two, which is 100% supported by what we saw of the twins throughout the show, WHENEVER we did see them: their roles in Azula's life are indeed to keep tabs on her, to keep her under control, to pressure her into perfection, AS OZAI'S AGENTS! Seen this way, it MAKES SENSE for Azula to disregard their concern and immediately assume it's FAKE. She isn't even shown to doubt it, never questions that MAYBE they did care about her! She assumes they don't...
... And considering that, as far as I know, the official concept is that they BOTH LEFT when Azula banished one of them only? That they didn't contest her command, staying to look after her even if she only wanted one? I mean, clearly Azula can't tell them apart, so they could've taken turns: one watches over Azula for 12 hours and the other for the next 12 hours, I don't goddamn know! But they didn't do that. They LEFT. And if they left? It means they don't care remotely as much as they say they do. Not to the point where they'd challenge Azula's orders and help her when they KNOW she's not okay.
And all of this further supports my point.
When we see Azula in the liveaction being angry, bitter, irritable at Ozai's choices?
I see a reflection of the same dynamics that the OG too subtly weaved into Azula's relationship with Lo and Li. I see Azula reacting against Ozai's control over her because she feels it's DISTRUST. She feels it means her father STILL needs to be convinced that she's competent, powerful, ready to do his bidding. It isn't a case where Azula's irritation comes from wanting to rebel against her father... it's Azula wanting her father to UNDERSTAND that she's 100% his supporter and will put everything on the line to serve him and the Fire Nation.
And it's very damn easy to read that exact same thing into Azula's dynamics with Lo and Li as it is to see it EXPLICITLY STATED in the liveaction.
My point?
What the liveaction did is not nearly as much of a distant characterization choice as people think it is.
Ozai is Azula's Achilles' Heel. Everything she became, everything she grew up to be, was for his sake. He molded her to become those things and simply didn't give a shit about raising a daughter, he treated her as a weapon, and absolutely pitted his children against each other, just as much as OTHER adults in their lives did. But the impact of Ozai on Azula in the OG is easy to ignore. Why? Because we SELDOM see them interacting. Because we don't get that side of Azula's character fully explored. Because they didn't want to explore Ozai's character either! They were as cheap as they could be with all these aspects and so, only the people who really got into analyzing things on a deeper level would be able to say, without a doubt, that Ozai abused Azula emotionally with all the expectations and demands he put on his own child. Through the golden child-scapegoat dynamic that people have been bringing up non-stop in the past years.
So, proving herself to her father is what Azula wants to do, more than anything. Proving worthy of his favor, of his approval, is the closest thing she can get to feeling loved. Which is depressing as fuck. Azula gets zero affection: it's not even conditional affection, there's NOTHING for her besides approving words if she gets anything right. And this show's work with Azula's character? It was meant to make these things less invisible to all the fans who like to pretend none of it exists. And yes, I've seen them, crawling all over Twitter shitting themselves in fits of rage because how dare that show pretend Azula EVER had a bad time in her perfect flawless life!!
Well, the irony is that the OG gives you a smidge of evidence -- and yet that's enough -- to show that Ozai was doing very similar things to Azula in ATLA, and her reactions to it?
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Huh. No smirks for Lo and Li.
No smirks for the symbols of Ozai's control over her life.
It's almost like the confidence, the smirks, the apparent ease with which she handles everything? Is a front that crumbles easily whenever it concerns the ONE PERSON with power over her life.
I don't believe, worth noting, that Azula's power comes from rage. I've seen people say that in fandom in the past and I find it a completely absurd take when Iroh himself spells out that her bending is about control, about precision, and it's Azula's FURY that makes her a sloppy mess in the finale. It's even INTENTIONAL that when she shoots lightning a second time, in her second establishing scene, THAT SAME HAIR FALLS OUT OF PLACE. She's still angry. She didn't get it "right" this time either. She's imperfect and she's trying NOT to be, but she cannot succeed. And upon bending lightning with emotions (rage/frustration)? That hair falls YET AGAIN out of place. Proof that she's not going to achieve the perfection she's being FORCED (indeed, by her father and the people who are here to represent him, Lo and Li) to strive for.
The liveaction had Ozai pushing Azula for a perfection she couldn't attain either. She's perfectly content in her cruelty at Ozai's side, right until she hears the Avatar was found and that Zuko has a shot at taking away the privileges she's been basking in so far. That she WASN'T nervous about this in canon is pretty damn obvious: OZAI SENT HER TO HUNT ZUKO DOWN FOR BEING A FAILURE. We never saw her reaction to learning that the Avatar was out and about. We have noooo idea what was canonically going on with her back then. The first time we see her besides the flashback is Azula receiving a mission that tells her she's STILL #1 and Zuko is no threat to her because Ozai thinks he's a failure. Thus? She had nothing to fear. Here? Ozai is actively using Zuko as bait to pressure Azula further. And if you're so confident in Ozai's good parenting skills as to believe he somehow WOULDN'T do that? Sounds like you don't understand the very basic and simplistic Fire Lod Ozai from ATLA, and that's not something to be proud of. So probably stop screaming your bad takes at the top of your lungs, because being incapable of understanding Ozai in canon is not a badge of pride, just saying...
FINAL POINT...
This post is not written expressly in the defense of the liveaction and its characterization of Azula. To this point, what I've seen of it doesn't feel WRONG or OFF unless you're the kind of person who thinks Azula is only capable of smirking and if she stops doing that she stops existing or something. Only people who cannot understand the depth, nuance, subtleties in Azula's story would ever be claiming that Azula's relationship with Ozai COUDLN'T be like this, or that Azula couldn't possibly be frustrated with her father or his choices when it's soooo clear what Ozai is going for, and why it's working. But in order to read Azula as a character capable of this range of emotion, frustration and ambition, all at once? You have to be able to treat this character, be it in the liveaction or the OG show, as a human being.
And that's what most the people criticizing this specific change are determined not to do. It's what makes them uncomfy. It's what rustles their jimmies.
Yes. I'm saying it in this very demeaning way because I actually find it quite ridiculous to be this insecure over the portrayal of a fictional 14yo in two TV shows. Whether the liveaction sticks the landing or fails catastrophically, I do not know... but I do know that if it's forcing a bunch of people to rethink Azula's character, and making them panic at the idea that she could EVER have human emotions, even if they're AWFUL human emotions?
Then I'm afraid you're only convincing me that, as bad as that show could ever get? It's getting SOMETHING right. I do love to see misinterpretations of Azula getting slammed in the face by the reality that all those beliefs, headcanons and takes in bad faith are actively, categorically untrue: none of which makes Azula a fundamentally good person, worth noting! But it makes it very clear that reading her as a one-dimensional basic villain, which is what the anti-Azula-redemption crowd actively does, is literally only possible if you overlook, ignore and fail to understand her character and her complexities, be it in the liveaction or in the original show.
There. I said my piece.
Another post, regarding the rest of the liveaction, is bound to come later. I'd say stay tuned but it might take me a while to write it at all. So... wait around and maybe you'll see it someday!
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andkisses · 5 months
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♡ a good way | beomgyu ♡
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despite the director casting you and beomgyu, your best friend, as the romantic leads, you both promise it won’t change anything between you
♡ beomgyu x gn!reader | wc. 9.1k ♡ genres/tropes: college!au, friends-to-loves, theater!au, hurt/comfort ♡ mentions of/warnings: injuries, lmk if there's anything else ♡ a/n: this is a rewrite of a fic i wrote and posted YEARS ago; unfortunately it was eaten up when i accidentally deleted my blog :’) it was originally for joshua from svt; i changed some of the times in the fic from the original, so if it’s a little wonky that’s why :’) pls enjoy ! <3 at the time it was my longest fic, now only second to roman holiday ^^ a/n 2: apologies for my absences ! i had some health issues even tho it was supposed to be my break :') im doing well now ^^
♡ masterlist ♡
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It was strange. Weird. Practically unfathomable and there must be some kind of mistake. The play had those two characters as romantic leads. The ones who slowly turn to look at each other, catch the starry glint in the other’s eye before slowly leaning in, before slowly closing their eyes, before slowly feeling their heartbeat accelerate because oh heavens this is it—before slowly kissing each other for the first time with such tender passion some members of the audience start to cry.
Those roles were not ever meant for the ones who have been friends since seventh grade, where one of them accidentally tripped and tossed their lunch all over the other, rendering the former an apologetic mess and the latter slightly smelling of garlic for the rest of the day. Not for the ones who stayed up far too late binge watching whole seasons of anime because they finally turned in that big project and it’s in fate’s hands now. Definitely not friends who are each other’s best friends, always. Never them.
But when the director swings back to the two of you, the mischievous and excited glint in his eye is unmistakable. His giddiness even bubbles over and he repeats himself, happily gazing between you and the best friend of 8 years standing beside you. “Beomgyu, Y/N, you will be the best two leads this stage has ever seen.”
You don’t want to talk about it. You avoid it for as long as possible. Have every conversation about everything else possible except the one topic that actually needs discussion. The trees outside are slowly losing their crunchy leaves, littering the ground with crimson and gold and sprigs of chocolate in between. They rustle and fuss when walked over, and shuffle down the street in a hoard of warning, proclaiming threats of the bitter winds of winter that would soon approach and engulf everyone whole.
Some mornings, you can see remnants of late-night frost on window panes, icy designs laced over the glass in the early morning hours. The grass glistens and shimmers with frozen dew, and the sidewalk is slippery enough to encourage walking slowly or bypassing concrete altogether and walking through the dead leaves. Some nights, you can see your breath curl as you wait outside the diner, a translucent white beast disappearing into the night. As night draws darker earlier, the air grows colder, like a mysterious ghost. One moment, you’re warm—the next, a bitter chill sprints around you, immersing everything in a coldness that drills past your layers and settles into your bones.
But you’d wait a thousand years in the cold just to walk him home. You’d wait forever if it meant seeing him one last time before the day ended and blurred into the next through a series of dreams and quiet darkness.
Beomgyu is one of the last few people out of the diner; he never closes, but he stays as long as he can, helping out and cleaning before his boss gets angry and tells him to “go home! Don’t you have homework?” When he steps out onto the street, making sure to close the door behind him, he’s safely bundled up in a black pea coat and a plaid woolen scarf that, when wound up, nearly encompasses his neck, chin, and even the bottom tips of his ears. When he sees you waiting for him again, he smiles, eyes lighting up like firecrackers and his grin is so warm it starts to defrost your bones, slowly but surely.
“You know you don’t have to wait for me?” he says, falling in step with you as the two of you began the chilled trek back to your apartment.
“Yeah,” you shrug, “but then who will make sure you don’t get lost on your way back? Or, I don’t know, get eaten by a star-monster?”
“A star-monster?” He quirks his head towards you, raising his eyebrow in mild but amused confusion.
You nod your head. “What if the stars gang up on you and snatch you right off the face of the earth and you disappear into the sky? And no one knows or can save you because I wasn’t there? Hm?”
A bitter chuckle escapes his lips. The white curl of his breath fills the air in front of him before it fades, taking the bright look in his eyes with it. “Then I guess I wouldn’t have to be a part of the musical, would I?”
Silence washes over you like a breaking wave—it hurts and stings, knocking everything away and tossing the tiny ships around into chaos. The only sound now is the brush of the wind skirting the leaves down the street with you and the distant city noise. The heels of your shoes hit the pavement in time together, and your breaths slowly start to match up. But something’s off; you feel it in your heart and your bones begin to ache again as the cold ice returns once more, spreading their chilled fingers across them.
Somehow, you find your voice, but it’s quiet and small. “It couldn’t be that bad, could it?”
Beomgyu shrugs, looking anywhere but you. He throws his head back and stares up at the night sky, where the stars kindly twinkle back at him, almost as a promise of we’d never steal you away. You look up, too, but all you see is a menacing darkness that you’re not sure you can get rid of. It feels like it’s bearing down on you, pressing down on your head, your shoulders, and your heart. With it comes a dark doubt, one that oozes into the cracks of your armor and makes you start to question things. It beckons out the dangerous thoughts—the what ifs—and coaxes them into the light and forces you to acknowledge them. What if... this changes things. What if... it ruins things. What if...
“Y/N?”
Your gaze drops back down. Beomgyu stands a few yards ahead of you, in the light of one of the yellow streetlamps. You must have stopped while lost in thought, slowing down until you ended up stuck in between two lamps, in the shadowy part. “Hm?”
He shakes his head. “You just stopped walking.” He turns toward you completely and quickens his pace until he’s beside you again. The look on his face screams of concern, of wondering if his best friend is fine or if it’s something he can’t fix. He reaches out to take your hand in his. “Is everything okay?”
Your heart swells, but it still feels as if it will break, shatter, crumble at any time or place. It feels like porcelain, that if it isn’t handled with care and marked FRAGILE, it will ruin to the point that nothing can fix it. You know what question you have to ask; it’s weighing down on your tongue and you’ll have to force it out.
You gulp, and you can feel your hand shaking in his. Beomgyu’s eyebrows knit together, his starry eyes trying to search for what’s wrong. For what is in need of helping. You stare back at him, garnering the courage to ask the question that’s been plaguing you since roles had been assigned. “The show–it won’t change anything between us, will it?”
And then, he does something unthinkable.
He laughs.
Beomgyu lets go of your hand and bends over in half, practically cackling at the idea, whisker dimples on full display. When he stands back up again, he’s still laughing hard enough he crinkles into your frame, resting a hand on your shoulder and burying his head into your neck, an arm resting across his stomach. His body shakes with laughter, and it’s infectious. A grin slowly spreads across your face, and then a giggle works its way out until the two of you are both laughing like fools. You may be between two lampposts in the shadows, but there’s light where you are.
When the laughter finally subsides to gentle smiles, Beomgyu takes your hand again and tugs you close. He starts walking again, pulling you along, swinging your arms between the two of you. He knocks into your shoulder jokingly, and the both of you smile harder.  “Of course not,” Beomgyu says. His smile is pure, assuring. The hand in yours is warm, stable. “Nothing will ever change us.”
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Seventh Grade.
The auditorium was full of anxious students, the buzz of noise telling the story of those who were waiting for their turn to shine on stage. The lights were turned on as bright as they would be for a performance, and the stage was decorated with real props from last semester’s performance, a steampunk rendition of Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake. No one thought the director could pull it off, but when the curtains closed for the last time that first showing, everyone was left starstruck and a new round of students was inspired to try out for the next performance.
A loud clap from the director thundered through the auditorium, signaling for attention and shocking you into your seat a little further. The red fabric bristled against whatever skin your sweater didn’t cover. Outside, the harsh winter weather pummeled the barren landscape, the dead, empty tree branches getting whipped by the bitter, unforgiving wind. The light dusting of snow made everything brighter, almost to the point it hurt to look out the windows at the white world. Inside, however, was full of warm tones and warm breaths. The heat of the auditorium practically had you sweltering, making you wish you had worn layers instead of a bright green sweater. The threads around the collar began to itch at your neck, and you tugged at the hem in search of relief. You really wanted to be here. You really wanted to audition. But the number of people and how long you’ve waited has started to play mind games with you. What if they don’t get to you today? What if they skip over you entirely for someone else? Someone with more theater experience from prior years than you, a complete newbie? What if—
“Hey, uh, is this seat taken?”
You looked up, still fiddling with your itchy collar. It was the boy from the day before—Beomgyu. The one who had accidentally tripped over someone else’s backpack and thrown his lunch all over you. He looked like a complete wreck, one hand holding onto the wrist of the other arm, his dark brown hair falling into his eyes as he struggled to even look in your direction. You shelf your own nerves and offer up a kind smile and pat the seat, which he hastily filled.
It’s quiet between the two of you for a while afterward. On stage, more students rotated through songs and performances, some spectacular and others a little lackluster. It was beginning to become monotonous, and your mind started to wonder if you had gotten here earlier, would you have already auditioned by now? But then something happened. A student walked on stage, introduced themselves politely, and then began to blow everyone and every other performance out of the water. The way they moved, spoke, sang—everything they did was captivating and you felt yourself leaning forward in your seat, drawing ever nearer to the practically perfect audition. There was no music playing in the background, but their vocals and stage presence was more than enough. The entire auditorium erupted in applause when the student on stage finished.
“Wow,” you breathed out. You’d practically fallen out of the chair—feet standing on tiptoes, elbows on knees, chin rested in your cupped hands with a shimmer in your eyes. That. You wanted to be like that. Bewitching, enchanting, and utterly spellbinding.
“I know right?” the boy whispered beside you. The two of you turned to look at each other, and somehow, in the back of your mind, you registered he was sitting the same way you were, looking completely and utterly enraptured with the previous performance. He stared into your eyes—the first time, you noted—and you could see the stars, like a secret milky way full of wonder. There was a serious note in them. “Let’s both do our best so when we grow up, we can be that good.”
“No.” You shook your head, and Beomgyu’s face collapsed into confusion. You shook your head again, this time with a mischievous grin spreading across your lips. “No, when we grow up, we’ll be way better.”
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A murmur ripples around campus. Sophomore year of college, and all of high school behind you. You’d think you would be used to it by now, the way quiet words spread around so sneakily but somehow always managed to make their way to your ears, too. But when the girls in the bathroom see you and slyly turn away, whispering how you and Beomgyu have the romantic leads, how of course they do, you can’t help but feel the knot in your stomach form and twist your insides until you feel pressure on your heart as well. Until it feels like you’re about to burst and spill everywhere. You want to spin at them, throw your hands out, and tell them how it’s not like that! That there’s nothing between the two of you except for friendship, the purest of kinds! Stop thinking that way!
But the wiser part of you, the one that’s been through high school, knows that they would just nod their head and try to hide their smirk. You can’t change their minds; they’ll always be thinking and imagining what they want.
Outside, the halls teem with people trying to get to their next class or break. You debate on stopping by your locker near the theater—you won’t need your books again until you go home thanks to rehearsal, but it would be out of your way to get there, on the opposite side of the arts block. But your books are heavy. Really heavy. Like shoulder-breaking, premature back pain-inducing heavy. You find that your feet have started to take you through the crowds to your locker before your mind decides on the plan itself.
In middle school, your and Beomgyu’s lockers were practically as far as they could be from one another. Yours by the gymnasium and near the arts building and the theater. With your mismatched class schedules, you only got to see each other at lunch and for theater. As your friendship grew, he would let you borrow locker space. It got to the point where you basically co-owned each other’s lockers; everything for classes on his side of the building was in his locker and everything for classes on your side was in yours.
By the time high school rolled around two grades later, the two of you were inseparable. As were your lockers. His at one end of the hall, yours at the other end on the opposite side. This only caused trouble junior year, when the two of you had such a bad falling out you could hardly bare to walk past one another’s locker let alone the other person. You would end up taking roundabout ways to your own locker, which worked until you ended up running into him one day without warning.
But you don’t have that problem now. As you walk past Beomgyu, who’s standing by his locker talking to another theater kid, you lightly slug his shoulder. You turn to walk backward and catch his reaction, and he’s staring back at you with fake confusion and his arms thrown up in the air. “You’ll pay for that!” he calls after you.
“Yeah, yeah, sure I will!”
You reach your locker, a happy smile on your face, glad your best friend is the kind of person you can beat up on. You spin the lock with precision, ready to open the door, slam your books inside on the shelf, and hurry to the theater for rehearsals. You can’t wait to see what strange exercises the director would have up his sleeve today; last time, he had everyone stand on the steps in the audience and each time they recited a line correctly, they got to move up two steps. First to the top wins; you and Beomgyu tied for first.
When you pull out the lock and swing the door open, what you see ruins your mood instantly. The crisp, white, inch-thick script stares back at you with quiet remorse. Remember me? it seems to say. Don’t forget about me. You’re almost afraid to touch it, knowing exactly what it holds in its pages even without having read a single line. If your fingers were to graze it, it’s as if an electric shock would shoot out and stop your heart from ever beating again. A tiny part of you wonders if, if your heart really did stop beating, would Beomgyu come to your side and rescue you?
Or would it be like the other night, with a sharp, bitter laugh and a mild happiness over a forgotten kiss.
You’re jostled out of your stupor by a neat punch to your arm, and you fall back into your locker with a metallic clang. When your vision focuses back on the real world, you see Beomgyu walking away from you towards the theater with a confident smirk on his face. He throws out his hands, his smile growing even wider. “I told you, you’d pay for that!”
You’re smiling too, now, and you hurry and grab the script and race after him.
It will all be okay. The two of you had already talked about it, how nothing could change between you two. Regardless of what the girls in the bathroom would dare to say in front of you. Regardless of what anyone else on campus or your major are thinking. Regardless of the script that burns slightly in your grasp, the crisp paper threatening to cut tiny slices into your delicate skin. You and Beomgyu—inseparable best friends for the rest of time.
It would always be that way. No play, no roles, no romantic leads, would get in the way of that. You’d promised each other you’d be each other’s best friend, always.
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Freshman year.
Sunlight streaming through the loosely drawn curtains was what woke you, lit patterns playing across your face. Your back ached from sleeping on a couch at a crooked angle for who knows how long. You stretched and tried to pull at your sore joints, attempting to return them to pre-crooked status. The room was still dark; the lamps were all off and the only other source of light was the television, where Netflix was playing some random anime you don’t remember ever selecting or talking about. Vague memories float up to the surface slowly as you finished waking up: you and Beomgyu had turned in a big semester final project that neither of you had thought would be finished on time but somehow managed to pull off. Deciding to get take out and stay up as long as possible watching as many seasons of anime as you could fit in and—
“Boo!”
Your scream echoed through the small dorm and you pulled at the blanket on top of you, trying to hide behind the soft, comforting quilt. On the other side of the couch was Beomgyu, laughing so hard he nearly rolled off onto the shag carpet rug. You half thought about being kind, and warning him to be careful because if he fell he could hit his head on the coffee table, but the other half said he scared you and deserved whatever happened next.
“How could you be so mean!” you whined, reaching behind you to grab a pillow to throw at your best friend’s face. “How long had you been planning something like that?”
Beomgyu paused his laughter to think. “Probably since I woke up about ten minutes ago. It would have been more elaborate, but then you woke up and I ran out of time.”
“You’ll pay for that, you know,” you muttered, drawing the blankets closer against your chest, where inside your heart still beating faster than usual.
“Even after helping you with that project and pay for dinner? On a college budget?” He paused for another moment, resting his chin between his thumb and the rest of his fingers. “Wait, pay for dinner... seems like I’ve already paid for it, Y/N.”
“Beomgyu!” You lunged forward, diving towards his end of the couch. Instead of a successful attack, you landed squarely in his arms, where he proceeded to tug you tightly against his chest. Escape, you soon realized, was futile. You’d have to talk your way out of this one. “Beomgyu, let me go. Now!"
“You know, you sure are whiney when you wake up,” he commented, rustling the hair atop your head. Your heart was still beating quickly and you were convinced the flush of your cheeks was due to large bouts of boiling hot rage streaming through your veins. “And why should I?”
“I would be in a nicer mood if you hadn’t scared me!” You tried to wriggle your arms up and pry your way out, but his grip was solid still, strong and warm. Since when was he ever this strong? His cheeks, you noticed, were warm and rosy as well, but that was from laughing too hard, you were sure. Why else would they be flushed?
“You may have a point…”
“Of course, I have a point! Now let me go!”
Mischief swam around with the stars in your best friend’s eyes. You could practically see the gears turning in his head, planning something you could only hope wasn’t entirely embarrassing. One eyelid dropped shut, and the smirk on his lips was unmistakable. “I will, but only if you pay for breakfast. From somewhere nice,” he rushes to add. “Student union doesn’t count.”
You released a terse sigh, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. “Fine! Deal! Now, release me!”
His arms slid away and you rolled over onto the floor, gently landing between the couch and the coffee table. The carpet was rough against your bare arms, but you were glad to be freed from Beomgyu’s death grip.
He was situated on the edge of the couch, chin resting lazily on his forearm, his eyes filled with mild shock and awe. “Really?” he gasped, as if he couldn’t actually believe you’d agreed. “Even if it’s the overpriced brunch food from the boutique down the street?”
You sighed, staring back at him.  “Yes. Even the brunch food from the boutique down the street.”
A moment of stillness, then...
“I’m glad we’re best friends," he said plainly, no hesitation in his voice. His dark eyes had warmed to a welcoming honest color, the kind some people could describe as home. The air around the two of you was still, a precious silence that quietly begged to be broken softly. Outside, the morning birds began to sing their late winter tune, beckoning spring to arrive as soon as possible. The sun filtered through the tiny windows brightly now, filling the dorm with warm yellow like that made everything feel nostalgic. Like the perfect ’80s movie.
When you found your voice, your words were soft but not timid. They held the same amount of honesty and weight as his had. “Me, too. We’re best friends, always.”
A soft smile played at Beomgyu’s lips as he echoed your promise. “Always.”
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The walk back to your apartment is chilly. Even though the sun shone brightly ahead, the first freeze of the season the night prior plunged your town from late autumn into early winter. What few leaves remain on the trees might as well be frozen on, and the rest of the dead ones scattered around on the pavement, crunchy husks of their former selves. It’s daylight, but you can easily imagine if darkness were shrouded around you, your breaths would be rising out in front of you in vague translucent puffs. Cold describes everything in sight.
Beomgyu is close by your side, nestled in that ridiculously oversized scarf of his. Christmas is a while away, but you’re already planning on getting him a nice, Beomgyu-sized scarf, probably a deep brown to match his eyes.
“What’cha thinking about?” His voice, clear as crystal, cuts through the air like a sharpened knife, but it doesn’t startle you. It’s warm and inviting against the bitter winter weather, a gentle fire among the cold.
“What I’m gonna get you for Christmas,” you reply, burying your hands into your coat pockets. The pavement scuffs beneath your boots, the walk back home growing boring. As you crossed the street where you two used to part ways freshman year, him to the left and you to the right, you remember when he said his parents told him they were moving during high school. How distraught the two of you became, only to find out he was moving in across the street from your house. Now, you split the rent for a two bedroom apartment. “How about you?”
“To be completely honest, I’m wishing I had remembered my gloves this morning, because right now, my hands are extremely cold.”
You laugh, a bright chuckle, and pull your own hands out of your pockets, staring down at the grey gloves cloaking your fingertips. You hold out your hand towards him. “Want to take one?”
Beomgyu scoffs. “And let you suffer from an equally terrible fate as myself? I think not. At least one of us needs to live.”
You laugh again, throwing your hands back into your pocket. “Fine, be that way.” You cut in front of him, dashing over to the short decorative stone wall running as a divider between the grassy park and the sidewalk. In a quick hop, you’re walking along the top as it gradually slopes higher to the point your feet are even with Beomgyu’s waist.
He stares up at you as you hold your arms at length on either side of you, a small frown playing on his lips. “Be careful,” he warns, the tone of his voice surprisingly stern, something he rarely treats you with. When you look down, you see his brows creased as he follows your pace.
“Yeah, okay, dad,” you laugh, finding the bitter look on Beomgyu’s face amusing. The stone wall beneath your feet is sturdy, and your balance is just as solid. Years of strange theater exercises had brought you that. You can even see your apartment down the street; you’d walk all the way atop this wall, taller now still, and show him.  You’ll get to the end and hop off dramatically and tease him for worrying. He keeps pace with you perfectly, still by your side even if there’s distance. The look in Beomgyu’s eyes tells you he wants to reprimand you, take you by the waist and set you safely on the sidewalk before scolding you on every reason why you shouldn’t have done that. But you don’t need him to. You’re perfectly safe with no reason to worry and—
You’ve misstepped.
Your foot is too far from the center, closer to the edge of the stonewall than you had anticipated. There’s not enough foot on the edge to save it. Your impressive balance is misplaced even further as your arms circle widely at your sides, trying in vain to regain some semblance of stability. You can feel yourself pitch sideways, your feet finally coming out from beneath you, and now you’re looking up at the crystal blue sky.
There’s not a cloud in sight, odd for this early winter day, and for the shortest of moments, it’s like you're falling through the atmosphere. The cold wind biting at your cheeks is caused by your descent. The screams you hear are just the air rushing past your ears, calling your name, not anyone else. The clunk of bodies hitting the pavement is just an illusion.
Your vision snapping to black is just a mistake, a cruel trick of fate, like the dark doubts that swarm around your head when you’re all alone. The blackness is almost welcoming, and you succumb quietly.
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Twelfth Grade
Four weeks.  Just under a month. Your life had gone from bold with color and emotion to two steps from dead and lifeless. Subjects you’d once enjoyed, now dull and monotonous. Walks to school were boring. Lunch and free period were non-committal. You’d skipped theater more than your fingers could count; you’d gotten an email from the director asking if everything was okay.
But it wasn’t. Nothing was.
Because it had been four weeks, just under a month, since you’d talked to your best friend.
What you’d even been fighting over, you couldn’t remember. That entire night is a fogged mess in your memory banks, existing but inaccessible. You know it’s there, but your brain, or maybe your heart, refuses to replay the details for you. The only information it relays is that there was a fight, and somehow some kind of words were said that ended in hot tears and storming out of houses with no goodbyes, take cares, or any sign of always.
Life since then had been weird, like you had shifted from one plane of existence but the world didn’t shift with you. Like a blurry camera shot, where one part of the image is in focus with fuzzy edges but everything else is shaken and smeared like thick wet paint.
All the love and joy theater had brought you since seventh grade was gone, five years nearly shattered to pieces inside your nearly-broken heart. You had no idea when the light would return, or if you would ever act again. It was so closely entwined to him, it physically hurt to walk near the theater or even think of certain plays.
Just like it hurt in the classes you shared. Sitting across the room from each other as far as possible, as opposed to right next to each other and sharing looks and soft smiles. The other students and even the teachers were left in a mild tailspin of confusion. There was never a scene made, nor any words spoken. Glances weren’t exchanged anymore. You never looked in his direction; your heart would ache far too much to handle.
Different pathways were even chosen to get between classes. You didn’t want a chance encounter in the halls, you couldn’t handle it. You guessed he couldn’t either, because you never saw him. There were never any accidental meet ups by your lockers, either.
Your plan had been to skip theater again and take the bus home, riding it around until it dropped you off last. You wouldn’t have to see him, it wouldn’t have to hurt, for that day at least. But you were running late, another teacher asking if you were okay needing brushing off. You needed to hurry and stop by your locker to retrieve your books. The bus was leaving soon; if you wanted to leave, you’d need to rush.
The halls were empty, everyone either in their after school clubs or outside waiting for the buses. You hurried to your locker, fingers anxious to spin the code in, grab your books, and leave. You reached inside, ready to retrieve the books by their spine and disappear from this place for what would feel like a short eternity. The hall was too bright, too empty, too--
“Y/N?”
Your heart skipped a beat, head whipping to the side. Beomgyu stood mere feet from you, but he might as well have been a thousand miles away. There were no longer any stars in his eyes, no warmth or cheer. They were sad, dark pits of self-doubt. They were muted screams, begging for help but not being quite loud enough. The dark circles under his eyes pleaded as well, and the downturn of his lips was what sent your stoic, bored, “I can make this” facade spiraling downwards.
You reached forward instinctively, wanting to cup his cheek with your hand and gently rub away the dark circles with your thumb, but you froze midway. Your voice even hitched. “Beomgyu... you look…”
“Awful? Dreadful? Like hell?” he filled in for you, and you couldn’t help but nod. Your chest was tight, almost to the point you wanted to clutch and tear at your heart to find relief. And the way your best friend was standing, shoulders slumped and body looking one strong wind from caving in like a fragile house of cards, it seemed like his heart was aching, too.
“What happened to us?” you asked, voice quiet and quivering. The hot buildup of tears began behind your eyes, making the edges of your vision blur together in a mass of sad, muted tones. “Why did we—”
“I don’t know,” he answered quickly, anxiously, as if he doesn’t speak fast, he’ll lose you again. He took a tender step forward, leaving only a few feet between you, but it was still too much space. You missed being side by side, close enough to bump into each other’s shoulders or elbow each other’s sides. Beomgyu took another tiny step towards you when you didn't move back. “What were we even fighting about?”
“I don’t know.” You felt like one step away from crumbling inwards, clasping in on yourself and all the way to the cool hallway floor. Your hands were shaking now at your sides, and you gripped your hoodie hem to prevent the shivers from racing up your arms and shaking the rest of you until you shattered into tiny shards. The moment your fingers curled around the soft hem was when you realized: it was his. You’d thrown in on that morning without even thinking. Now, all you could notice was how strongly, how nicely it smelled like him. You took in a solid breath of air to prevent the tears from spilling over, but it was shaky and unconvincing. “Whatever we were fighting about, it’s not worth this. I miss you, Beomgyu.”
His eyes were still empty, no stars in sight, but now they were glossy with tears. His chin quivered, and his lips moved to say something but couldn’t. His fingers curled and uncurled around the leather strap of his messenger bag. His voice was quiet when he finally spoke. “I miss you. So much it hurts to breathe, so much I can’t stand to look at you in class or else I feel like crying. Whatever I did, I’m sorry. Please, please, forgive me and be my best friend again. I don’t think I can take life without you anymore.”
The both of you lunged forward at the same time, wrapping each other in a hug. Your arms clung to his neck while his encircled your waist, holding you close. Warm, salty tears finally spilled over, running down your cheek and onto the soft denim of his jacket. By his shaky breaths, you figured he was crying, too. “I don’t want you not in my life anymore either,” you managed, hoping somehow that you’d made sense.
Beomgyu laughed in your arms, drawing you even nearer. “Good, because I really didn’t want to have to explain to your father why I was standing under your window with my guitar instead of just letting myself in like usual.”
You laughed too, but the kind of broken laugh where you find pure happiness just after harsh sadness. Your heart swelled with joy, knowing that Beomgyu was still yours. The time you’d spent apart, not talking or goofing around or shoving each other playfully with stupid grins on both of your faces, had been life-draining. You’d never get it back, even if you spent forever together. You never wanted to go through anything like that ever again.
Beomgyu nestled into the crook of your neck, words whispered so quietly you knew instantly that they were just for you. “We’re each other’s best friends, always. Right?”
You wrap your arms around even tighter, a true smile on your face for the first time in weeks. “Right. Always, Beomgyu, always.”
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The apartment is quiet. The shades are drawn open, allowing late afternoon sunlight to spill in and swim around on soft carpet floors, bathing them in warm yellow light. The television in the corner is on but mute, the news airing with no noise. The heater kicked on a minute or so ago, filling the house with nicely warm air. Outside, soft baby snowflakes begin to fall out of the sky, the first snowfall of the season. If the sound had been on, you would have known that the weatherman said the snow was no reason for concern—it wouldn’t accumulate to the point it was dangerous. Just a light dusting, something to make the outdoors look nice and wintry.
But you are unconcerned with whatever the weatherman’s words may be or the consequences of the snow. There are more pressing concerns.
Your voice warbles as you pull out the first aid kit from above the washer and walk back into the living room. “Beomgyu, I’m so so sorry, I—” You bite down on your lower lip to prevent yourself from crying; there wasn’t time for that now.  The white plastic lid snaps open, and you pull out the gauze, the alcohol wipes, and the bandages with shaky hands. He sits on the edge of the couch, one hand bracing himself on the cushion, the wounded one resting tenderly on his lap.
You lower to stand on your knees and reach out to take the hurt one in yours. You stare down at his split second knuckle, an ugly gash that would surely scar no matter how kindly or tenderly you treated it. Caused because of your stupidity, your recklessness. Caused because you tripped or slipped or something and fell off the wall. Caused because he risked his safety to catch you. You feel your heart break, knowing the scar would be your fault, forever, and you can’t ever fix it no matter how hard you try.
There’s no going back, or rewinding time to try again.
Beomgyu winces as you wipe at the cut with the alcohol wipes, and you mutter sorry after sorry. It’s beginning to not even feel like a real word. You can feel your chest heaving, one step away from a total breakdown as you swim through deep and measured breaths. Guilt pours over you like a thick syrup, sticking to every surface and threatening to drag you down and drown you whole. It fills into the cracks of your armor, bubbling up inside you like a witch’s brew. As you place the gaze and wrap the bandages around his hand, your breaths are coming shallower and shallower, your ability to keep it together fading. When you tie the bandages into place, you let go and drop to sit on your heels, all energy gone. Your head hangs in shame, and you wish you could crawl away and hide somewhere until further notice.
Which would be easier if you didn’t share a damn apartment.
However, your best friend won’t let you.
“Hey,” he calls, his voice soft and soothing. His healthy hand curls under your chin, gently begging you to look up, and you comply. His eyes are calm and filled with stars again,  and other emotions you can’t quite place. He smiles kindly, and you can feel your heart shatter at that instant. Right now, you don’t deserve that kindness. Your shoulders spike up and tears begin to spill over. Beomgyu’s face collapses into concern, and he slides off the couch to sit on the floor next to you, legs crossed.
When he places his hands on your shoulders, you try to shake them off. “Please, just...” Your voice falls away. How could you ever apologize for what happened? You knew you shouldn’t have, and yet you did. You knew he seriously disapproved, even if he didn’t voice it totally, and yet you continued. You knew, deep down, that you were getting cocky, and yet you didn’t stop. You had plans on teasing him, mocking him for his concern. The guilt presses down and down, crunching against your head, your shoulders, and your heart until you could scarcely breathe. Quiet sobs heave against your frame, from your torso down to your whole body. You could tell, soon, that you’d simply shake apart into fragments that could never be pieced together again.
You injured your best friend from your own stupidity.
“Hey,” Beomgyu says again, and this time, he reaches for you and pulls you into his lap, safely tucking you under his chin. You don’t resist, and even if you wanted to, you doubt you could have done it past all the crying. He gently rocks you back and forth, rubbing your back, soothing you as one would a small child. Once your sobs have subsided, and your breaths return to a semi-normal state, he speaks again. “I don’t hate you for what happened, if that’s what you think. I could never, I…”
You pull yourself slightly from his grasp, enough to stare at him at eye level, coming out from underneath the warm spot of his chin and neck and shoulder. The emotions swirling around amongst the stars in his eyes are new and unusual to yet, and some part of you feels at home with them. Your voice is quiet, almost hesitant, when you talk. “You... what?”
Beomgyu takes a breath, as if steeling himself. "I have something I need to tell you."
"Need?" you echo, head quirking to one side in confusion.
He nods, staring straight into your eyes. When he speaks, his tone is something you’ve rarely ever heard before. “Need. My chest might burst if I don’t get this off it, and that wouldn’t really help me graduate. Or tell you this. So... and seeming we might as well have almost died…” You roll your eyes at his dramatics, and Beomgyu seems hesitant, but only for a moment. Years of going up on stage have prepared him, but you can tell in this instance, he’s honest, 100% himself, and your best friend, not some actor playing a character for some play. 
He takes another breath before: “I think I’m in love with you.”
Your eyes grow wide, a small gasp escapes your lips, but he doesn’t stop.
“No, that’s not right. I know I’m in love with you. I’ve loved you for a long time but this... this is different. I want to keep you safe, to wipe away any of your tears. Seeing you sad just... tears at my heart. It hurts. Whenever you're sad or upset, I feel the same way, even if it’s just words over a text message. I really did feel like I was going to die when we had that fight. Living without you was unimaginable, but I had to go four weeks without you. Without your voice, your stupid jokes, your laugh. I guess I was in love with you then, too, I just didn’t know it.”
Words escape you, any witty comeback gone. You stare at him, the honesty in his eyes, thinking you’d see him differently after his confession. But you don’t. He’s still Beomgyu. He’s still your best friend. He’s still your Beomgyu.
One of your hands raises, and you tap yourself on your sternum. “Me?”
Beomgyu rolls his eyes now, as if he expected some kind of response like this. “Yes, you. I mean, who else would look up at the night sky, invent a star-monster, then worry about it taking me? I’ve wondered if I was really in love with you, like really actually in love with you. But when you fell and I caught you and you blacked out and I didn’t know why... Y/N, I was so worried. I could feel my heart breaking and I knew that if you never woke up, I wouldn’t ever be the same again.”
He’s mere inches from you, arms around you, body heat radiating off in such pleasant ways you feel okay with melting straight into the floor. His hands move from around your back to ghost around your face, like they want to caress you but are too afraid you might shatter like a fine porcelain under his touch. And his eyes—damn, his eyes. Every star, every galaxy, stirring together to create a beautiful milky way, a gaze so firm and caring you feel as if you’ll never look away. That if you somehow managed, too, you’d feel as if you were missing something dear and important.
Your heart flutters in your chest, its beat stuttery against your wrists. Oh, how on earth did you get here?
Maybe it was when one was so starstruck by the other they stopped watching where they were walking and dripped over someone’s strewn out, overstuffed backpack. When the other offered up a seat beside them during the audition to help settle nerves. Maybe it was when they woke up next to each other after having fallen asleep after binge watching an entire anime season or two, with Netflix on some other autoplay show, one was wondering how the other could look so soft and delicate just after they wake. When the other was happy that they were in each other’s lives. Maybe it was when they declared they’d always be friends, best friends, but now always seems to be more weighty and mean a little more than before.
Maybe, just maybe, this is when they slowly turn towards each other, catching the starry glint in the other’s eye. When they slowly lean forward, ever closer, to the point they can feel one another’s soft breath. When gazes go from eyes to lips and back. When heartbeats slowly start to be harder and louder. When you feel like you might be the one crying because oh heavens—this is it.
But there are things those plays never mention, things the audience can never detect.
They never mention how the palms of hands become sweaty, or how automatic it is to take a soft breath before another pair of lips meets yours, a touch so delicate you finally understand what all the hype is about.
How nice it feels to have two hands cupping your cheeks so gently, their little fear of shattering you gone, or how your own hand curls into the fabric of his shirt as if it’s second nature, the most right thing in the world.
How tantalizingly dizzy a first kiss is.
How soft lips are, how soothingly warm to the point you wouldn’t mind if they were all you felt. How tender goosebumps trail down your spine until something begins to pool in your stomach.
How, even though you’ve become utterly breathless, you can’t stop at just one, because now something that's been building and growing for years has unlocked.
Hands that trail from cheeks to ghost over the nape of the neck, sliding down arms softly to then find purchase at your waist. Kisses, more warm, tantalizing kisses that leave you craving for more. Kisses that roam from lips to chins, then trail down the jaw to tease and nip tender patches of skin on necks, only to return to corners of lips for more wholehearted, dizzying kisses.
You’re warm, almost hot, but it’s so pleasant. What exposed skin you have tingles with feeling, with a craving touch and affection, too. The two of you rest your forehead on one another’s, breath still shallow from all the kisses exchanged, hands softly interlocked with fingers entwined, or as much as one can with bandaged knuckles. He finds his voice first, though even it is soft and a little hoarse. “I should have done that a long time ago, huh?”
You giggle and snuggle closer, nestling into the crook of his neck. You place a kiss underneath his chin. Beomgyu rubs even patterns on your back with his healthy hand while you take the bandaged one in your own, cradling it gently. You pull it up to your own lips, kissing where each knuckle is softly. When you look up, you see the stars glowing in his eyes, brighter than anytime you’ve ever seen them. 
Beomgyu sighs, eyes softening at the corners. “I guess the kiss in the play won’t matter anymore, hm?”
You lightly slug in him the shoulder, a love-filled smile playing on your lips. He smiles back in a similar manner, his eyes lighting up with happiness. “Oh, and I guess this means you love me back, too.”
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People fill and mingle around the diner, looking for an open seat among the crowds of customers. And older couple swoops in as soon as you vacate the booth, not even caring that your dirty dishes were still neatly stacked at the edge awaiting pick up. But you didn’t mind. You push through the doors to wait outside while Beomgyu paid. Even though there’s a small crowd at the counter, you knew exactly which one he was. Beomgyu wore his light blue jacket, the one that accentuated all his features nicely. You’d have to make sure that whatever Beomgyu-sized scarf you bought matched that jacket. He needed to wear it as often as possible.
The first official date was almost over, but you knew there would be many more to come. 
Once he’s finished paying, Beomgyu makes a beeline for the door, carefully navigating around all the people crowding the entryway. “Is it always this busy?” you ask when he rejoins you.
Beomgyu shrugs his shoulders. “Yeah, I guess so. But knowing you, the most gorgeous person ever alive, would be there waiting for me was very motivational.”
You do little to hid your smile.
He takes your hand in his, interlacing your fingers as if it were second nature. Maybe, it was, and you two had just been trying to ignore it. This walk from the diner back to your apartment had been done countless times before, but this one is special. And now, you think, it really is your apartment. 
Beomgyu starts to casually rub gentle circles onto your skin with his thumb. “It’s the perfect kind of weather for me to take off my jacket and give it to you to keep you warm, you know.” He then takes a deep sigh and throws his head back. His next words come out playfully clipped. “But, someone had to be smart and wear their jacket.”
“Well, you’re not dating a fool,” you chuckle. When you notice Beomgyu pouting, eyes downcast away from you, you laugh again and poke him in the shoulder to get his attention. “Thank you anyway, Beomgyu, for always thinking of me.”
He turns back to you, all smiles. “Darling, I don’t think I could stop thinking of you even if I tried.”
“Ew, gross.” You laugh, white curls of breath forming in front of you. But, unlike last time, there is no cold or ice in sight. No dark thoughts and doubts plague you tonight. You’re delightfully warm and happy.
“Ew, gross yourself,” Beomgyu mimics, throwing his tone to match yours. “I’m cold too, by the way. So I guess thanks for thinking of me by thinking of yourself. God, you’re like the smartest person ever.”
As the walk home continues, so does the conversation. "Our parents seemed pretty happy when we told them, huh?" Beomgyu mentions, a smile playing at his lips.
“Maybe they planned it,” you muse. “Maybe the director was in on it. They wrote it all together because they decided it was now or never.”
Laughter fills the air, and even in the dark spots between the lampposts are filled with light.
You nudge your shoulder into Beomgyu’s, garnering his attention. “Can I ask you a question?” When he nods, eager to hear what you have to say, you continue. “Why did you throw your lunch on me that day in seventh grade?”
“That was an honest mistake!” he exclaims, eyes filled with desperate honesty. The blush along his cheeks as he looks away is readily apparent. When he looks up, his eyes are filled with sincerity. “But sitting next to you on audition day wasn’t.”
A soft smile plays at the corner of your lips. “I’m glad I got there late, then.”
“Me, too.” A moment of silence falls between you, but it’s comfortable, like an overtly fluffy blanket made just for two. Afterward, Beomgyu is the first to speak again. “Okay, I’ve confessed something from our past that’s mildly embarrassing yet still endearing. Now it’s your turn.” He turns to you with a mischievous grin on his lips.  "’Fess up, darling."
It takes a small instant, before: “Oh! You know that time we stayed up all night and watched anime after that big project? When we woke up the next morning, even though you scared the hell out of me, I thought you were pretty cute.”
Beomgyu’s eyebrows quirk up, his grin grows wider. “Cute? Me? You thought I was cute?”
Pink blush rushes to your cheeks before you smack him on the shoulder. You drop his hand and quicken your pace. “You were cute, you’re not anymore.”
Beomgyu races to catch up with you, takes your hand again, and bumps into your shoulder gently. “Of course I’m not cute anymore. I’m handsome.”
You make a fake gag. “Oh, please!” There’s no sense of lightness when you shove his shoulder.
“Hey, now,” he says, rubbing his shoulder with his free hand, another fake pout on his lips. “Be nice to your boyfriend.”
You scoff. “Is that what you are now?”
“What else would I be? More than friends but not a boyfriend…” Beomgyu’s eyes brighten as he lets go of your hand and snaps his fingers. “Aha! Your husband!”
You shove him with two hands this time. The idea of being with him like that is overwhelming to the max. “Fine, you’re my boyfriend, then.” The word feels foreign on your tongue, but you can easily imagine them growing comfortable. Your best friend. Your boyfriend. Your Beomgyu.
He slings his arm over your shoulder and pulls you close as your apartment slowly grows larger in the distance.  He leans his head over and rests it gently on yours. “I guess I lied,” he mutters, and you pull back confused even with his eyes on you, rich and loving. “I told you the play wouldn’t change things between us.”
A smile slowly spreads across your face. “But... we changed in a good way, right?”
Beomgyu answers you with a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, caressing your shoulders kindly and pulling you just a little closer. “Yeah, we changed in a good way.”
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talaok · 1 year
Note
Hii love! How have you been? I hope you’re doing really great!
I was hoping I could request a Pedro x f!reader ooor Joel x f!reader? Reader is really drunk and so she confesses her love for him? I’m a sucker for drunk confessions hihi she’s really miserable because she loves one of them for so long but never said anything bc she’s insecure…
Oh and also, thank you so so much for your writing, it never fails to make me smile when I’m feeling down and your stories are helping me cope with stress 💕 Congratulations on your beautiful blog !!!! 😍
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ok, so here's the thing, since you were so incredibly nice I decided not to choose, but instead do all the combinations, so here is: drunk confessions with Pre-outbreak!Joel, Post-outbreak!Joel, and Pedro Pascal.
pre-outbreak!Joel
"you're drunk, babygirl" he chuckled to himself as he held the bar's doors open for you.
He had offered to give you a ride home immediately after he noticed you getting a little too affectionate with everyone at the bar. 
He had originally gone out with Tommy, but as always as of lately, the thought of you had occupied his mind.
He didn't see you, he heard you first. Your beautiful laugh sounded off the walls of the dimly lit space and instantly, he (and Tommy) had known the plans for that night had changed.
" 'm not" you lied, struggling to see exactly where you were supposed to go.
"sure you aren't angel" he mocked, that smug grin still tugging at his lips as he put one of his strong arms around your back so he could guide you to the car.
The cold night air did nothing against the hot wave spreading through your body at the contact.
You wasted no time leaning into him.
He smelled of aftershave and of the hours spent working beneath the sun, and god if you didn't want to just bottle that scent up and get drunk on it every night.
"You didn't have to do this you know?" you spoke softly, your head raising to look at him better "One of my friends could have brought me home".
He laughed, his thumb unconsciously stroking your side, "I don't think any of them are in any better shape to drive than you are" he explained, lowering his head to look at you. Your pretty doe eyes made him momentarily forget what he was saying, but he quickly recovered, "Also, I don't mind"
You snorted, "You don't mind getting drunk women home? " you joked "perv"
He rolled his eyes, his mouth betraying him as it twitched into a smile "Why are you so drunk anyway?"
Your eyes briefly focused on the sky behind him before coming back to his.
"firstly," you paused for dramatic effect "I am not that drunk"
He just chuckled
"and secondly, I have some things on my mind"
"yeah, like what?" he asked, "do I have to beat someone up?"
"I wish it was that easy" you sighed, clinging to him 
He frowned "Is it a man? Did you meet someone?"
Your heart decided it would have been a good idea to pause for dramatic effect too.
"uhm- I-" Oh god you were too drunk to do this "No, it's-it's complicated"
He hummed in understanding " When is it ever not complicated?" he said "But I'm sure whatever it is it will work out, any man would be lucky to be with you angel"
And there it was, that stupid feeling in your chest whenever he said things like that.
"thank you" you murmured offering a thin smile
 __ __ __
The ride home was silent except for the soft music playing on the radio and the sound of the wind blowing through the open windows.
The air smelled of summer and cut grass, and as you soaked in the feeling, an idea arose in your mind.
A bad idea, a really bad one.
But you were drunk, and you only live once, right? He had said that any man would be lucky to be with you, so, of course, you couldn't help but wonder if he had also been included in the hypothetical, and well... now was the time to ask.
The car came to a stop right in front of your house.
You could see the lighted porch and the familiar tree in the middle of the yard, but your mind was elsewhere.
"You want me to walk you in?"
You turned to him, his big brown eyes hypnotizing.
It was now or never.
"No, I-" you stalled, knowing what you wanted to say but not knowing how to say it.
"What, angel?"
"Remember what we talked about before?" you spat out, your stomach suddenly twisted in itself 
"you mean your "complicated" situation?" he air quoted
"yeah, exactly" You nodded
"Sure, why?"
Oh god
Oh fuck
what had you done?
"Well, I-" You had to glance somewhere else, at the steering wheel, at the windshield, even at your hands, but you couldn't look at him.
"I was... I was talking about a man"
Something flashed behind his eyes but you couldn't quite put a finger on what it was.
"Do I know him?" he asked 
You could almost laugh "Well... yeah"
"Is he good to you?"
You looked at him again, just to see his complete attention directed at you, as if at that moment, only you existed.
"yes" you nodded
"Who is it?" he finally asked.
You struggled to swallow what felt like concrete in your throat.
Your palms were sweaty and your body temperature had gone up in a matter of seconds.
"Joel..." you breathed, your chest rising and falling rhythmically as you stared deep into his eyes "Joel, it's you"
There. You'd done it.
"w-what?" It wasn't every day you heard Joel Miller stutter.
"I like you, Joel" Now that you'd said it it was impossible to stop "I have for a while now"
"you..." he looked at you incredulously, as if you'd just confessed to him of being an alien.
" It's ok if you don't feel the same, we can go back as if this never happened, I just felt like I needed to tell you"
"No" he spat "No, no, we're not going back" he spoke frantically, making you smile "I like you too, angel, a lot," he said, "Ever since you moved here- I- I- Are you sure you're not just drunk?"
Your heart was beating out of your chest.
Did he just say that?
"No, Joel, it's the truth" you grinned
"fuck" he breathed, his eyes wide "I can't believe this" he murmured, leaning closer 
"I really want to kiss you right now"
"then what are you waiting for?"
~~~ ~~~
Post-outbreak!Joel  *angst because I can't help myself but there's a happy ending*
"What were you doing there?"  
He would have sounded mad to anyone else, but you knew he was really just worried.
"what were you?" you retorted, the alcohol in your veins giving your confidence a boost.
"you shouldn't hang out at places like that, those people aren't ones you want to be around when you've had too much to drink"
you didn't miss how he had avoided your question.
"Especially the men... god, sweetheart, I saw at least six guys eyeing you the entire night" he sighed, the pet name fleeing his lips involuntarily.
"how come you can go and I can't?"
He passed a hand through his hair, clearly in distress.
You were the only one able to do that, make him anxious and scared at the possibility of anything happening to you.
"y/n you know why"
"no, I don't" 
you both stopped in the middle of the street, the faint glow of the light poles barely illuminating your faces.
You could still hear the voices from the makeshift (and illegal) bar just around the corner, but the sound of your beating heart was predominant.
"Because I'm one of them" he breathed
"and yet, here you are, walking me home"
this was the thousandth time you'd had this conversation, this endless circle of you trying to convince him he wasn't the monster he thought he was, and him not believing you.
"That doesn't matter"
"I think it does"
"it's different"
"How?"
"because it's you"
You paused a moment, not knowing what to say.
Tiny little butterflies flying in your belly once again.
"You're a good man, Joel," you said, placing a hand on his bicep "No matter how hard you try to convince yourself of the opposite"
You noticed his adam's apple bob up and down as he swallowed thickly.
"you don't know that y/n,"
"oh but I do" you murmured, absentmindedly getting closer "I can see it in everything you do" you spoke "I really do"
"Y/n-" he tried to speak but your lips were already on his.
You didn't know if it was the alcohol or the pent-up tension you had both spent years creating but for some reason, you couldn't do it anymore, you couldn't go on pretending that just the thought of him didn't make your stomach twist and turn.
His hand went to your face, holding it as if you were about to slip away, as if in a second you were gonna change your mind.
His lips moved together with yours, and for a moment, you were the only person on the planet.
That was, just for a moment of course, for the second Joel's mind started working again, he knew he couldn't do this. No, not to you.
He leaned away, dropping his hands by his side.
You immediately knew something was wrong, and as pathetic as it was, felt tears prick your eyes.
"this-this is wrong" he shook his head
"Why?" you could only ask in a shaky whisper
"You don't want this, you don't want someone like me"
You forced yourself to take a deep breath. You were not gonna give up, not now.
"but I do" 
"y/n you deserve someone better than me" he spoke softly, like his own words hurt him too.
"That's not true, Joel" You promised "and even if it was I don't care. I want you, and I'm tired of pretending I don't" 
"You don't know who I am, what I've d-"
"I do! I know exactly who you are Joel, and that's exactly why I love you" You spoke louder now, frustration and hopefulness mixing together dangerously "Just, please- tell me the truth, tell me how you feel so that I can at least go to sleep tonight knowing that I tried" you begged "it's fine if you don't feel the same, I just- I just need to know the truth"
"Y/n, you-you're drunk, you don't mean this..."
"Joel, please" you forced the tears in your eyes to stay put "You know I do, just tell me. Please"
His hazel eyes bored right into yours, and you were sure that if it wasn't for all those beers in you you wouldn't have been able to hold his glare.
"sweetheart I-" he didn't know what to say.
He couldn't tell you the truth right? he couldn't tell you that since he first saw you you'd been haunting his mind like a curse, he couldn't tell you that for the first time in years, he found himself smiling at something so small as you laughing at something he'd said, he couldn't tell you, because for as much as he had grown to love you, he knew, with a horrifying certainty, that he could never get used to being loved by you, by someone as perfect as you.
"Please Joel" you begged him once more, and as much as he fought it, he couldn't do it, he gave up the fight the moment he heard that sweet little voice of yours breaking.
He couldn't lie to you, not anymore.
And so he didn't.
"y/n" he said "Of course I love you"
~~~ ~~~
Pedro Pascal
You had no idea what the fuck you were doing.
Not one. Zero. Nada. Niente.
The cab had come to a stop and you still hadn't decided what to say.
The club you'd just spent the past few hours dancing and drinking at was much closer to his house than you had expected.
Your heart was thumping in your chest as you stepped onto his front porch.
You glanced at the taxi to make sure it was still waiting for you and found the driver looking curiously at you.
You had asked him to stay when the sober part of your brain realized this wasn't gonna end well.
You took a deep breath, purposely ignoring the fact you had noticed all the lights being off as you knocked on the door.
fuck, this was a mistake.
Everything fell silent for a few seconds, even your mind, and then, you heard the lock tick and the door opened.
Ok, you can do this
Pedro squinted, trying to get a better look at you.
He instantly noticed your outfit and the way your tight dress hugged every part of your body and he had to force his eyes to look away.
He, on the other side, was in what you could only guess were his pajamas: a Lakers shirt and boxers.
"y/n?" he asked, his voice hoarse and deep.
"I'm sorry, were you sleeping?"
He cleared his throat, passing a hand through his messy bed hair "no, don't worry I couldn't sleep"
"oh, alright" you breathed a sigh of relief.
"Did something happen?" he asked, eyeing the taxi beside you.
"N-no I just..." Was it just you or was it much harder to breathe all of a sudden? "I needed to tell you something"
"oh," what looked like fear fleshed behind his eyes "You want to come in?"
"n-no it's ok, I'm gonna be quick"
"alright" he nodded, wide awake now
"so..." you trailed off, "ok, the thing is that I-" you bit your lip, your nails picking some skin off your thumb in nervousness "I..."
"Sugar you're killing me here, what is it?"
You forced a small chuckle "I'm sorry" said, trying to calm your racing heart "fuck- ok, you know what? I'm just gonna say it" you decided, not giving yourself time to think about it before spitting out your next words.
"Pedro, I like you. Like- a lot" You tried to smile but your nerves got the best of you "And I know this isn't ideal and that I'm drunk and everything... but I just need you to know"
His eyes were blown wide "You're drunk?"
"well, kinda" you blew him off "but that's not the point, Pedro, I really really like you, like so much it hurts to fucking look at you" You laughed softly now at how crazy you must have sounded " I never told you because I know you don't like me back, and it's ok that you don't, but I just wanted you to know that I really fucking like you because it's been eating me alive for so long and I just needed to say it out loud"
Silence spread once again, his eyes were trained on you, and yours on his.
None of you moved or talked, and you took it as your cue to go.
"ok, I'm gonna go now" you spoke "I'm sorry for the inconvenience, goodnight" You turned to walk away when a hand grabbed your arm.
You turned around, finding his eyes trained on you with an expression you had never seen on him before.
"sugar..." he finally spoke
And there it was, the "it's great you feel that way but I think we should just remain friends" speech you could have felt coming from a mile away.
"y/n are you sure you want to do this now?"
"what do you mean?"
"I mean you're drunk, and maybe you'll wake up tomorrow and regret all of this"
"I don't care, I just wanted to tell you" You shrugged "and there's not really anything to do, Pedro, I know you don't like me, it's fine, I'm gonna go home now"
an unexpected laugh fled his mouth "You really believe that?"
You frowned, your breathing getting heavier again.
"sugar, do you really have no idea what you do to me? About all the nights I spend thinking of you? All the times I dreamed of doing exactly what you're doing right now?"
Your heart had decided to stop working completely, and to be honest, who could blame him?
There it was, Pedro fucking Pascal telling you all about what you do to him.
"I-" you could only stutter
"y/n, fuck- baby, I just- I always assumed you wouldn't want to be with someone like me"
"What?" 
"Well I mean, you're very much out of my league sugar"
"you're kidding me right?" you laughed "You're Pedro Pascal, what are you talking about?"
"And you're Y/n Y/l/n," he explained, a smile tugging at his lips.
Silence again, but this time lighter, it was an incredulous, happy silence filled with realization.
"So what does this mean?" you asked, breathless
He grinned "I have no idea," he said "I just-god, I wish you were sober so I could kiss you"
"You can kiss me"
"I don't want you to forget our first kiss"
"then I'll come back in the morning"
he smiled "Promise?"
"Promise"
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Context-Full Patent Art
Every now and then I see people in the comments who seem to genuinely want a better idea of what one of the posted bits of art here was supposed to be patenting. Giving that context myself doesn't seem in the spirit of the blog, but I absolutely want to encourage people to do the legwork to go sniffing around for original sources.
It's something I have to do a lot in my day job, something I've learned to enjoy, and the thing that led me to start Context-Free Patent Art a dozen years ago in the first place.
Let's start with today's post, which is a perfect example of art that raises more questions than it answers.
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Almost every post on this blog has a header detailing the date of the patent or application and the number, which you can find on the top right. In this case, this image is from Patent Application # 20020022516.
Longtime Context-Free Patent Art fans might remember this image from when it was first featured here over a decade ago. I figured that a lot of the people following the blog now haven't seen some of the gems from years ago, so I'm going to be doing re-runs of some of my favorites this week. There's a bunch more I think would be good to bring back, so I'll use the vintage cfpa hashtag in the future so you know when a duplicate post is intentional (as opposed to me just forgetting I've posted a thing before, which happens a fair bit).
Back to the matter at hand though, if you're ever curious, the US Patent and Trademark Office has a super-handy patent search function. It's pretty easy to find from their main site (uspto.gov), but you can also just bookmark this link to the basic search form:
Check out the search results, click on the link for the .pdf, and you'll get the complete patent/application to peruse at your enjoyment.
In this case, you'll find the patent being applied for covers a method of "Advertising inside electronic games" and you'll learn that:
In FIG. 1, girl 10 is climbing onto a hamburger 11 like one sold at a fast food restaurant. However, in the displayed image, hamburger 11 is as large as girl 10. The person playing the game will therefore perceive hamburger 11 as fantastically large. That unusual scale will help to burnish the image of hamburger 11 in the player's memory as well as draw his attention to it while he plays the game.
Not shown in FIG. 1 are other characteristics which electronic games could apply to hamburger 11 which cannot be shown in unanimated line-drawings. Hamburger 11 will compress as girl 10 steps or pushes on it. That action will be accompanied by squishing and slurping sounds...
Yeah, the explanations are weird too, sometimes.
Sorry for all the words, I just wanted to make it as clear as possible to people that if they're ever curious about stuff they see on Context-Free Patent Art, it's usually pretty easy to find out what the deal is.
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I know you’re not working on any askblog things but will the sparklecare askblog ever return?
i've thought about this a lot, semi-recently. sorry for long post, i had a lot to say
see, the issue with asksparklecare is the fact it's supposed to "go along with canon events" and a lot of the time, the arcs will just abruptly end or change with no real connection between them. haunted was sort of my first attempt at putting a "story" on there, then again with the kissmas comic from 2021.
when i started cometcare for example, i wanted to take the generic "ask blog" format and turn it into a coherent, cohesive connecting story that just had interactive elements to make it engaging with readers as opposed to just making people ask the characters questions aimlessly. the main ask blog never really had that entirely, it was just sort of the classic 2010s-style ask blog, this is apparent in basically every arc on there.
it's stumped me quite a bit because now that i have this very different style of ask blog storytelling, the original ask blog feels weird to go back to and i don't feel the same passion or connection with it that i once did. it's a little bit frustrating. i tried to do an arc about the side patients but as you guys saw, i never even did it because i felt so out of touch with that old format of ask blog posts and i couldn't bring myself to work on it at all.
cometcare and darkermatters both have Stories to them, and each arc has a plot that is moved on by readers- even if i already have it written out, there are little things people can influence through the asks and it's a good way for introducing new characters or expanding on characters who we've already met. several times cometcare will return to specific characters to relay information or new details or exposition or something that their initial introduction didn't have.
it's a much more fun process for me to write actual stories in my AU blogs, instead of just....making the characters talk. and another thing- going alongside the main comic has problems, because sometimes there's information i can only reveal in the comic itself, and it's hard to keep up with it in general.
i enjoyed doing the kissmas comic because i got to do a "story" even if it wasn't interactive. i had fun repeating the concept on cometcare last december with help of the crew.
i'm sort of at a loss of what to do with the main ask blog at this point. as much as i miss doing stuff like that for main comic, i just don't find it FUN to do it that way anymore, i've become too attached to the storytelling aspects of my other ask blogs and it just doesn't feel the same exciting experience of watching people react to events and such.
if anyone has suggestions about what i should do with the main ask blog to solve this problem i'm open to hearing them, it would be nice to have some ideas because i'm really not sure what i want to do with it.
there was a time i had the idea of doing a backstory ask blog as an alternate main canon interactive story that followed similar mechanics as cometcare and darkermatters, but idk if everyone would be interested in that. that would probably be a separate thing if i ever did it.
thoughts, opinions, suggestions and ideas are all welcome in the replies or my inbox, i would love to have your guys' input since im making content you all would be engaging with after all
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devotion-disorder · 2 months
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Hi!! I don't know if anyone has asked this before, but-- How did you go about posting your yan OCs for the first time? I absolutely LOVE yours and would love to share mine like how you post about yours, but It's soooo nerve wracking to start it... Lol, sorry if this is weird! ^^;;;;; Do you have any advice or anything?
Hihi!!!! I understand it is kind of nervewracking like oohhhh these are my silly Original Blorbos if any of you guys care. but the world could always use more yanderes!!!!!! so we do in fact care !!!!!!!!!!1
I will say that a while ago my blog was mainly DoL-centric with the exception of the occasional yan post reblog- but i honestly wish I branched out into that more early on, for some reason i was really fixated on keeping my blog centered around one thing only. At some point I just realised that. it's my blog. i should just do whatever I want lmao. and I think that's a good mindset to have tbh - its your house your rules babey
I don't know if there's anything in particular with how I did it that's remarkable in any sense, but I suppose I just tried to make sure i was presenting my oc's in a way that leaves a strong impression and is easy to digest: so a list of facts about them, some are just basic info, some are lore-motivated and some are just things i think would be funny LOL. and yanderes at their best are when they are being their most creepy irredeemable selves so I drew something extra for that too (in fact it was kind of a last-minute addition lol). but anywho i was just hoping to establish a strong impression of their characters ig.
but yes! the only real advice I stand behind is to do whatever you wanna do and have fun with it. that is easier said than done, but I think that my enjoyment of drawing and posting has really took off ever since i just stopped caring what others might think. Good luck to you and your oc's, im sure many people will be very excited about more yanderes in this world!!!!!!!!!
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suemooon · 7 months
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Origins of the Oncest ship: the history
Travelling in The Once-ler's fandom history | by suemooon
Welcome Oncelings!
to one of my most serious researchers I have ever done before, now, here’s a little explanation:
I wanted to make a fandom analysis using old posts, the way back machine, and other stuff to try to compare the once-ler fandom in its golden age and now, trying to suppose how it was and trying to see what happened there, but it would be later. Because I got a really interesting capture that I got while I was checking the Oncest tag in the wayback machine, and I got this:
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IT QUICKLY GOT MY ATTENTION
Someone saying that they were the first ones to show the Oncest ship term.
I wanted to see if it was real and not a joke or something like that, so I copied the url of the tumblr and desired that the blog is still up, and I got it!!!
I explored their tumblr for a little while, and I noticed another thing, there’s a bunch of photos of the once-ler BEFORE the movie of the Lorax came out, this of course means that ye, there was some people who found the once-ler attractive and begun to share his pictures in tumblr (without any tag, if it wasn’t the help of this blog and some other ones, I probably couldn’t got them).
This makes a lot more sense than saying that the once-ler fandom was born after the came out of the movie I can say.
Those pictures belongs to all the Lorax trailers, in which ONLY appears the gray once-ler, not greedler. So we can say that the people who find him attractive in the beginning, the greedler was like a kind of “plot twist”
But the topic of the whole fandom will be for my another analysis, now let’s try to focus on Oncest.
2. Possible date of apparition
In my research, it seems that Oncest was born between 19th March, 2012, but where did I took this supposition?
Checking the dates between their first Oncest mentions (and also checking other old inactive once-ler’s blogs), there’s some important dates to make a highlight.
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link to post: https://theambernerd.tumblr.com/post/19771248254/thank-you-all-you-lovely-people-for-following-me
In this screenshot, someone responds that this pairing has a name, this is from March 22, 2012, so the ship already existed and had a name too, so let’s check out the other blogs and their archives.
temporarilycheating
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squidmama
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Suddenly we see Oncest fanart.
The dates are between 19th and later, is this the origin of the ship?
Of course this is just a supposition, I had to see it at that time to prove it, but it’s not the case. All I can do is make suppositions.
You can take it as something true or fake, that’s your opinion.
3. Who was the original person who brought up with the Oncest idea?
This one was one of the most complicated things that you can try to research, we are talking about something that is 11 years old, so some pretty amount of information got lost with the time.
In words of temporarilycheating.
IT’S CALLED ONCEST BECAUSE I SAID SO! Lol but really…actually, I’m kinda the one who came up with the name in the first place… The pairing existed, but I think it was originally called twincest or something… But anyhow, in month one of the fandom, back when Sirsteeve made some of the first oncest fanart the fandom went CRAZY over the idea…and so did i. So I was sitting in my living room having a feels moment over this new OTP…but since the fandom didn’t really have a name for it, it made me think… It came to my mind that the fandom was somewhat dividing the once-ler into two seperate people of the same relation-oncie and greed-ler. To me, it sounded like incest. So I played around with that idea a bit in my head. And after saying incest repeatedly in my head I noticed the ‘ce’ in the word. I came to the conclusion to 'once’ in addition to the 'est’. thus 'oncest’. I had a fangasm and posted my idea to tumblr ASAP. Apparantly, it caught on cuz it’s still called oncest today and is widely known C: That has to be one of my greatest achievements in this fandom.
link to post: https://temporarilycheating.tumblr.com/post/25857778616/why-is-it-called-oncest
There's a small mention to someone named "Sirsteeve" who explains that were one of the firsts ones to draw Oncest.
I searched and their oldest Oncest post I found is this one.
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Date: March 19th, 2012 by: sirsteeve ( hour - 5:22 PM )
So we have in our eyes one of the first Oncest post ever.
Is that the original Oncest post? I don’t know, it only says that is ONE of the first persons in the fandom who brought up the idea. Is it made by one person or a group of people? I don’t know.
Other very first posts about Oncest:
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Date: March 19th, 2012 by: cartoonjunkie ( hour - 10:39 PM, 5 hours later after sirsteeve )
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Date: March 20th, 2012 by: owlapin
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Date: March 21st, 2012 by: rutella
4. Who gave the name of "Oncest"?
GUYS!!!! I KNOW WHAT TO CALL THE PAIRING!!!!! Y'know, once-ler/green suit once-ler!???? IT SHOULD BE CALLED ONCEST!!!! GET IT!? Its like incest, but with himself! :D WHAT DO YOU GUYS THINK!? If you like the idea, reblog this to spread the word! :D
Date: March 20th, 2012
It seems it’s true, temporarilycheating was the one who created the Oncest term, we should give her more recognition for it!
link to post: https://www.tumblr.com/temporarilycheating/19650360910/guys
Conclusion
Second part? who knows. But the only thing I can say is… this one was one of my most complicated things to find, but now I got some important information. I'm here for you to share my knowledge!
I must say, I’m very proud of me for this, you guys have no idea how excited I got when I found these photos and data, maybe is not too much but I think they’re really important yet; this information forms part of our fandom history, and I think we should keep that information up and don’t lose it.
As a reminder too, as I already said once…
Oncest is like an icon for our dear Once-ler Fandom, whether we like it or not.
We can’t deny its existence, we can’t blame it, we can’t try to delete it, it always will exist as always the fandom will exist and some people like it.
And… My opinion about Oncest?
Well, I don’t hate it, I don’t love it thou, but I can like some posts about it, I can appreciate art from this ship, and it’s idea too.
Any reblog, like, and comment it's appreciated!
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dandylovesturtles · 5 months
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Top Ten Posts of 2023
I decided, why not? ^^
I'm limiting this to fics/analysis/headcanon/etc posts I made during the year and skipping over anything that isn't my actual creative work. That said, if you're curious, my actual top post was this funky screenshot from episode 2.
10. Everyone's just fine with Donnie modding the moon buggy? (362 notes)
It occurred to me that despite being MASSIVE nerds for the Jupiter Jim franchise, the bros seemed awfully chill with Donnie taking an actual on-set moon buggy and modding the hell out of it.
A few people argued with me in the notes that the Turtle Tank is so cool no one could possibly be mad about it and I do think that's fair. The Turtle Tank is easily my favorite thing Donnie made in the show.
9. Splinter and Leo talk post movie (443 notes)
And then his dad walks in and says, “I would like to talk to Blue, please. Alone.” And suddenly Leo doesn’t feel so good anymore.
This is the most recent tumblr fic I've done (I think lol), so seeing it make it this high felt pretty good. I love Splinter and his boys... they make me emotional.
8. A headcanon about the Disaster Twins (445 notes)
I have a headcanon that the twins are lowkey always trying to get each other to laugh.
This is still true.
7. A showcase of Donnie's injuries in End Game (462 notes)
So everyone talks about Donnie getting his shell shredded by the Shredder in Many Unhappy Returns but I feel like it’s underappreciated that that happened to him coming off of getting his ass beat in End Game like
One of the first posts I made when I made this blog haha. Poor Donnie |'D
6. Donnie records everything (617 notes)
broke: Donnie listening to what happened in the prison dimension woke: Donnie showing Raph Leo’s big damn hero speech since he wasn’t there the first time
The main reason why this has so many notes is because @roseverdict wrote a great fic down in the notes that you should all go read.
5. Leo asks Donnie a favor (829 notes)
“You might as well tell me what you need,” he says, turning to his computer and pulling up his list. “I’ll assess it and prioritize.” “No, no, that’s okay. It’s nothing,” Leo insists. “Nardo.” Donnie levels his best stare at him. “What is it?”
I love writing the Disaster Twins being soft and you guys love it when I write it too.
4. Present Donnie and Future Donnie have a little disagreement (CAS AU fic) (1,242 notes)
“What was I supposed to do, tie him to a chair?” “Yes!?” says Mini-him like he’s stupid, which warrants a scoff.
Shoutout to @skcirthinq who doodled a comic version of their conversation.
3. Casey Jr. and Uncle Tello troll Present Donnie (CAS AU fic) (1,701 notes)
Casey Jr, says Uncle Tello’s voice. Uncle Tello? Do you want to see something really funny?
This is my actual fic with the most notes! I'm glad you all enjoyed this silly little take on what was actually an incredibly intense moment in Cass's original comic.
2. Mikey contacts the Hamato ancestors (2,054 notes)
future Mikey: *trying to contact the spirits of the Hamato for advice and guidance in the apocalypse* Donnie’s spirit: Hello, you are now communing with Donatello.
I can't believe you guys gave over 2K notes to the stupidest joke I've ever made. Shoutout to @nonymous06 for this artist's rendition.
and finally, drum roll please.....
My top post of 2023:
1. A very silly idea for a separated AU (4,283 notes)
non-angsty ROTTMNT separated AU where the boys meet online and bond over their shared love of Jupiter Jim and skateboarding and Lou Jitsu. Then one day they agree to meet irl for the first time at a con and decide to dress as turtle aliens.
This post spawned an adorable fanart by @thatsmutbean , this hilarious fanart by @onionninjasstuff , and an entire fanfic called new phone who dis by @rbtlvr
This has been an incredible year! My love for ROTTMNT has not diminished in the slightest and I still have lots of ideas, so I hope you guys stick with me for 2024. Thanks again! Happy New Year!!
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arxxq · 1 year
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Hello! Can i request prompt 12. “I'm not that jealous type but what's mine is mine.” with Nagi Seishiro for the collaboration you posted? Thank you and take care always (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠✧⁠*⁠。
12. “I'm not that jealous type but what's mine is mine.”| nagi seishiro
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Thank you for the request anon! Mwah♡
I'm not really doing good and i’m sick rn, my nose are stuffed, my head is spinning, my throat is dying and unfortunately i still have to go to school. that also explains my inactivity besides school rn. i’m doing my best to manage my time to write and do some of my school works as well. 
list of prompts are in my blog, i recently updated my navigation (my pinned post) so just check that and you will find the link to the prompts listed. 
mistakes will be fixed once i reread, lowercase intended
mentions of y/n / reader being reo’s step sibling. gender not specified. please forgive me if i mention she/her pronounces here. 
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you and nagi have been together for a while. 
you must admit when you first started dating it did felt weird dating a lazy football player. 
just as you manage to got used to it in a few months, it got even weirder realizing that nagi seishiro, your beloved boyfriend was your brother’s best friend. 
it seems like reo himself didn’t know you were dating his best friend. it was clear to you that nagi had never told anyone of his relationship with you and that made you feel some sort of wave called relieve. so instead of telling reo, you decided to keep it hidden first. 
if you are wondering, no one in the school or anywhere infact knew about you and reo being step siblings because you didn’t really want the fame and your parents have always prioritize reo’s needs more than you, and with that you and reo agreed and manage to as well convince your parents to take in your biological mother’s surname instead. 
yes you have always questioned why the mikage family decided to adopt you, but that doesn’t mean you weren’t grateful about it at all. it felt like you were in a dream. even if your step parents didn’t give you much attention, you step brother did. he would always manage to convince his parents to spoil you. you have to admit, reo is probably the best brother you could ever have. 
he was always the person who cared, so its not really a surprise that reo would probably be the one who would stay longer then anyone when you are in your grave. and you would also do the same. 
now lets go back to our original subject....
not only did reo did not know about your relationship with nagi, but nagi himself also did not know that you were the younger sibling of his friend, mikage reo. the decision seems foolish because honesty usually is the best policy and you agree it is. its just that you can’t seem to bring yourself to tell them about this. 
so keeping it a secret was suppose to bring you time so you can feel prepared on when to tell them. 
but to your luck, life wasn’t liking your decision so of course it had to ruin it in some way possible. when you were already ready to tell reo, that was when fate decided to struck.
so it was at school. you came up to reo all of a sudden to ask if he’d like to walk with you for a while. yes it did weirded out others in the school because they themselves knew that you were already dating someone. 
everyone knew you were dating someone including your brother, but they just didn’t know who. yes reo did know about you having a relationship, but he didn’t ask you because he didn’t want to sound like and overprotective brother to you and he obviously did not want to pry into your personal business. he chose to be patient and waited you to tell him about it. 
that shows he’s a caring brother figure doesn’t it. 
meanwhile with nagi, he saw you walking up to reo his closest friend. it did bother him but he didn’t want to show it. he also felt a weird feeling and he absolutely disliked the whole feeling. something in his head had told him to follow you guys so he did...
so when you and reo arrived to a less crowded space you were about to tell him but you were cut off by your snow white boyfriend. 
“so what did you want to talk about?” 
“well it’s about--” just as you were about to tell him, you felt your body being pulled by to hands and your back was faced with someones chest, that person proceeded to put his head on you shoulder and say something you wouldn’t expect. 
“I'm not that jealous type but what's mine is mine.”
your jaw dropped. you knew who it was. his words had struck you and you went speechless. your face was also burning up. those words was something so unexpected to hear from nagi. he sounded so jealous right now. 
meanwhile reo had witnessed the whole thing and was processing what he just saw. now i guess he finally realized who you were with. he did felt disappointed you didn’t tell him but he understands that you have a hard time telling people something so big to you. he just smirked at nagi. 
“so you are jealous huh nagi?” he chuckled and decided to teased nagi even more. “of course i am. you can have anyone else just not my dove...” reo looks at you and he couldn’t hold in his laughter since your face right now was priceless. 
you were so flustered. your face was fully flushed with the colors of red and pink. 
“hey chill, i wont steel them from you cause that would be just weird!” that made nagi confused. “nagi..they’re my step sibling, and i have to say i am disappointed they didn’t tell me about you two but i’m happy its you honestly,” 
nagi was confused but shock at this info. “dove why you didn’t tell me that you were siblings with reo,” he sounded so sad and he looked quite betrayed. “i couldn’t bring the courage to tell you..” 
“mm i guess that’s understandable..” 
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i had no idea on how to end this so i ended it there.
reblogs are highly appreciated 
do not claim as your own and do not post my works on other platforms unless you have my permit 
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twentydaysofmay · 2 months
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So at first, this was a reblog of a different post, but I am now making it an original one for greater reach. Be warned that it's going to be quite long.
So, we all know and love the promotional comics of our Wii boxers, like this one about Glass Joe:
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You might have never questioned its origin, and neither did I when I first encountered it a year ago. I just assumed that Nintendo officially published it in a guide, because that's what every source about them that I've read was implying.
But then I learnt that these translations aren't official at all. They were apparently done by the Tumblr user @boink-the-joiner in 2013, whose blog seems to be unfortunately deleted.
And then I was informed of the existence of this image by my friend @fan-mans (Charlie):
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He said he originally found it on Tumblr, though he didn't give me the link to where he got it from. (It happens to be included at the very start of this post.)
But this supposed "original version" seemed fishy to me for several reasons:
If this is the "original" Japanese version, and no "official" English one exists that was published alongside it, why are the sound effects written in the Latin alphabet?
Why is the authorship at the bottom in English? And isn't that the exact same font as in the well-known English version?
Why is it read left-to-right? Shouldn't it be flipped from the English version? Wouldn't it make more sense for Mac to punch him with his right arm and for Joe's hair to be more often on his right side than the left, and to first put on the left boxing glove, and hold the coffee cup in his right hand?
Why is there a red rectangle in the middle right?
Charlie said that all of this was because Nintendo was catering to an American audience, but never actually published the guide outside of Japan. (Apart from the red rectangle, which was apparently a part of the website that image originally came from, but he didn't have a link to that either.) I didn't believe it at first, because it just seemed like an incredibly stupid pair of decisions to me.
But today, I found this webpage. It's a blog post talking about strategy books for Nintendo games, and includes this image:
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This is it! This is proof that Nintendo printed the comic to be read left to right in the original Japanese version!
There was that little bit of doubt in my mind though. What if the copy that shows the actual pages of the comic is in English? The quality is so low...
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...but the kana here are clear enough.
That isn't the end of the story. Shortly afterwards, I came across this webpage:
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THIS IS THE ORIGIN OF THAT JAPANESE VERSION OF THE JOE COMIC ABOVE! The red rectangle was, indeed, holding up a textbox.
Anyway, the full website can be found here, and includes a few other materials, such as this part of a guide on Title Defense Von Kaiser:
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Sadly, the website only includes Joe's comic, and I haven't found the original Japanese versions of anyone else online, so currently, you'd have to own the guide to know what they look like.
Also, out of curiosity, I decided to use the Wayback Machine to see if the site has ever been modified, but it just wasn't archived there at all. Not even a single snapshot. So I went ahead and preserved what it currently looks like.
The website itself seems to belong to the company that published the guide, Enterbrain, a division of Kadokawa Future Publishing, which is a part of the Kadokawa Corporation. The names "Ebten" and "Famitsu" seem to be related to it as well, but I have yet to figure out exactly how. The full Japanese title of the book is パンチアウト!!完全クリアーガイドブック, and its ISBN is 978-4-7577-5067-8. At least according to these listings.
Not all questions about the comics have been answered. For instance, we still aren't quite sure why Nintendo (or Enterbrain, anyway) decided to flip them. And our translator Boink had to have the copies of all of the Japanese comics, otherwise they wouldn't have been able to translate them! What if they are reachable somewhere else, and we can ask them if they still have the original scans?
More information might come as I (and hopefully others) research more.
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happistar · 2 months
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Day 8, 9, & 10: Squip OC, Non-human, Error
Somehow this guy happens to fit all three of these. Not intentional but works haha
Figured I'd drop some backstory about this guy since I haven't really talked about them and I don't think I'll ever finish their story.
So, this is Deactivation Incomplete, or DI for short, a character I developed pretty early into Squip Inc's creation, then scrapped them, then brought them back, then kinda left them behind.
Basically my thought process was a squip that couldn't control its emotions thanks to a malfunctioned deactivation making them just that bit more human. In an attempt to fix that issue they downloaded a virus and broke some more, resulting in two more copies of them. Oh also they look like Connor DBH.
Deactivation-Incomplete (with a dash this time), which is a previous backup copy that got restored, was originally a scrapped sideblog before I made DI into a separate blog. I thinkkk I originally intended them to be called by their unit number (2261) but honestly I don't remember. But for simplicity's sake I'll go with that. 2261 was meant to be the most stable version but their first attempt crashed, resulting in Deactivation Incomplete (no dash). Anyways, post-virus, they would restart albeit with none of their copy's memory, not realizing they had crashed and missed a couple months.
Deactivation Incomplete (or DI), is the main copy, but still technically the second version. Switching between 2261's appearance and their own they were in search of how they couldn't remember their user or time before deactivating. Post-virus, they would learn but be in distress as the virus + unfixed errors left them to realize the harm they caused their user.
Reactivation Complete (or RC), would then be the last-- a restoration of themself before being deactivated, albeit not perfect (much to their frustration). I think I generally wanted 2261 to seek help and make another copy of themself after seeing how DI became a mess post-virus to fix all of their buggy coding. Which created RC, and ehhhh, kind of worked but didn't really fix all of their collective problems.
But! I never got around to any post-virus stuff. Unfortunate, but figured I'd share. I suppose these guys will simply bicker in my head instead of over tumblr ask blogs I guess haha
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hi, do you have any resource recommendations for laypeople who want to grasp the most important essentials/fundamentals of material science? any help will be very appreciated!
Great question! Unfortunately, our definitions of 'laypeople' and 'fundamentals' may vary, so if this list doesn't have what you're looking for just let me know and I'll give it another shot.
Let's start with some... let's say 'unpublished/unofficial' resources. First - this blog. Not to toot my own horn, but I've got a good collection of original posts (try the tag MyMSEPost, or this year's newest variety 2024Daily) that I hope are fairly readable to the general public - and come with links and further reading resources for each topic. However, these posts are not comprehensive. I don't think I've ever talked about what is a crystal structure, for example. [Also, I've been doing this for, wow, almost 10 years now, so... that's a fair number of posts...] I also, one upon a time, made some MSE Masterpost posts, though those are probably pretty outdated by now and I can't guarantee the links all work.
Another resource is msestudent.com. They don't have an about page, but it seems to be a more official (i.e., non-Tumblr) blog about the fundamentals. That being said, while they do have a search system, they don't seem to have a table of contents. Both of these resources will help you learn some fundamentals, but they won't tell you what the fundamentals are if you don't already know them.
Other science Tumblr blogs have come and gone over the years, but @materiallugy seems to be currently posting, and @matmake was not too long ago. Both have separate websites with resources, though I'm not sure how comprehensive.
Now for undergraduate level resources that are comprehensive. These are introductory, but I suppose they might presuppose a high-school level education (basic chemistry and physics, probably):
Online classes, such as MIT OpenCourseware, or Coursera (two examples of many). Some of these kinds of resources are free, some aren't. MIT, in particular, isn't so much a class you take online as it is the resources (and sometimes videos) of their classes.
Textbooks. I used Materials Science and Engineering: An Introduction (Callister and Rethwisch), which I think is pretty common and a well respected book. Obviously it costs money, but I think it's safe to say you could go back a couple editions and save some money.
Less comprehensive but still official is the University of Cambridge's Teaching and Learning Packages. Again, this won't tell you what are the fundamentals if you don't know already know. For example, there are 78 at the moment - I wouldn't say the additive manufacturing TLP is essential to MSE, but atomic scale structure of materials is.
Additional resources:
Specifically corrosion
Online, virtual, general chemistry textbook
Online, virtual, organic chemistry textbook
Someone else's compiled list of links and resources, which may be outdated
YouTube videos from a professor of MSE (side note: I have not watched these and cannot verify their accuracy or usefulness, but the guy does teach this stuff for a living...)
Hope this helps, and everyone feel free to chime in if you have any resources of your own you use!
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