#Like if one of your constraints for the genre is a happy ending like what the fuck thats so restrictive for no reason??? Why would you read
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So im watching this playlist of a bunch of youtubers reviewing the last decade of goodreads awards winner by genre because i love people rightfully shitting on goodreads but like? One of the ones i watched was romance because yeah obviously and the woman who reviewed was like really into the romance genre and im geniunely not trying to be a cunt but i dont understand how someone can be geniunely into the romance genre like!!!! You like books where nothing fucking happens? And a lot of her criticisms were like there wasnt enough romance because it was just a subplot or there was too much stuff from other genres and like.....yeah? You have to like you cant carry an entire book on one relationship like sure thats an opinion because i literally dont understand romance books but like????? Like idk im not trying to be a cunt but like WHAT is appealing about a pure romance book???
#Like obviously im influenced by being a lesbian and LOL LMAO AS IF THATS GONNA FUCKING SELL IN MAINSTREAM ROMANCE a genre dominated by#Cishet women like of course of the 10 books 8 were straight relationships and 2 were mlm gay relationships because cishet women hate wlw#But like even if wlw romance books were everywhere im still like....how can you enjoy something thats just so ...nothing!!! How do you#Enjoy the literary equivalent of your friend talking about their new annoying boyfriend nonstop#Like even if i think about the lesbian relationships in media i enjoy its not in romance books like#I like sarah waters books because theyre historical thrillers not because its just a lesbian relationship existing and then i wait 8 books#For them to fuck like#Like maybe tipping the velvet is the closet waters got to a romance book but theres so much more explored in it like i dont understand the#Appeal of ....just romance like that shit is usually a subplot for a reason!!!!!!#Idk why i wrote all of this but well idk i just...dont understand romance like#ESPECIALLY SINCE THIS REVIEWER had to read 3 coho books and was like??? For it ends with us she said it wasnt a romance book because it#Romance books require a happy ending???????? Like huh????? What is coho if not the worlds worst romance author who is occasionally the#Worlds wost thriller/romance writer???#Like if one of your constraints for the genre is a happy ending like what the fuck thats so restrictive for no reason??? Why would you read#It if you know wow this couple? Who the whole book is about only? Gets together and HAS to be happily ever aftered or else its...suddenly#Not a romance book?????#Like huh?????????????????
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Prompt: Because I'm tired and want someone to cuddle me <3
Pairing: OM!Boys and GN!Reader
Genre: Fluff, comfort
TW: NA
AN: Because I feel drained. You know that bone-deep tiredness that's there for no apparent reason? Yeah, that's what I've been feeling for the past 4 days. Add horrible, horrible summer heat with it and you have one very tired, sticky and frustrated Icey.
This is very self-indulgent btw. Not really happy with the ending, but oh well, this has spent too long in my drafts, so enjoy~
The first sign that something was not right with you was when you woke up.
Your skin was clammy, the t-shirt you had slipped into the previous night sticking to your body despite it being a fairly cold night. An odd sense of exhaustion hung over as you sat up in bed, drowsily willing your limbs to move.
You jolted slightly at a sudden pounding at your door, groaning as you heard Mammon's voice telling you that you were late. Letting out a tired sigh, you swung your legs to get out of bed.
You went through your morning routine (that Asmo had all but wrestled you into following), trying to fight the alluring call of your still unmade bed. Normally you would make your bed as soon as you woke up, but considering the time constraints imposed upon you, you decided not to today. Besides, if you were to keep feeling this way the entire day, you would collapse into bed the moment you came home.
Mind made, you slung your bag (that you had the foresight to pack the day before, thank Diavolo-) over your shoulder. Time for another day of learning at RAD.
What could possibly go wrong?
You had been feeling queasy the entire day, and that only heightened when it was time for lunch.
Solomon eyed you as you kept playing with the food on your plate. A glance at Simeon revealed that he too had noticed your off behavior. The brothers were all a bit pre-occupied with some student council related work, which was why you were currently sitting with the Purgatory Hall members; but that couldn't be the reason for the way you barely made a dent in the food provided by the cafeteria. And it was one of your favorites as well.
"MC?" he called out to you gently.
You hummed in response. "Yes Sol?"
"Is the food not to your liking?" Simeon asked, his careful question bringing Luke's attention to your mostly untouched food. The younger angel began fretting and worrying over you instantaneously.
Luke's actions brought out the very first smile from you all day. "I'm fine Luke, just a bit tired," you responded to his heart-warming actions, lightly ruffling his hair. Luke huffed, but still hovered close to you with a concerned expression on his face. Simeon took one of your hands in his, checking your well-being using his angelic powers. Nothing seemed too out of the ordinary, and he told you as much.
"But still, you shouldn't overexert yourself MC," Simeon added after some thought. Just as you were going to reply, a familiar voice cut in.
"Indeed MC. There is no need to force yourself to attend RAD if you're not feeling well," Diavolo gave you a smile as he took a seat next to Simeon. Barbatos stood at his side, a fond smile on his lips as well.
"You should take the day off. Lucifer won't mind, I'm sure."
"I-"
Solomon lightly elbowed you, mischief in his eyes as he whispered, "Take the day off. You look dead on your feet, and I would prefer it if my little apprentice is in prime condition for all our experiments~"
You huffed in amusement. For all his cockiness, you could hear the concern in his words. "Fine," you conceded, missing the way everyone seemed relieved, "I'll go home, but only because I feel like trash. And i probably wont be able to concentrate in class." You stood to throw your uneaten lunch in the trash, coming back to your friends to get your bag. "Guess I'll get going now."
"Do you need someone to escort you MC?" Barbatos asked, his hand coming up to brush a few strands of your hair behind your ear. An innocent gesture that had your heart speeding up momentarily, and a red tint spreading all over your face. Barbatos chuckled at your flustered state as you squeaked out, "Nope! I'll be fine!"
"Rest well."
As soon as you reached the House of Lamentation, it was like a switch had been flipped. The exhaustion you had been fighting to keep back hit you with all the force of a rampaging beast. You barely made it to the bathroom, stripping off your clothes and getting into the bathtub.
You lost track of time as you soaked in the warm water, the bath salts Asmo had gotten for you relaxing you and taking some of the tiredness away. Once the water lost its warmth and your fingers became all wrinkled, you decided to get out. You nearly slipped when you placed one foot on the bathroom floor, hand shooting out to hold onto the side of the bathtub. A breathless laugh tumbled out of your lips, your heart hammering away in your rib cage from the close call. Carefully this time, your extracted yourself and quickly changed into clean and comfortable clothes after drying yourself.
Now that you felt less like a grimy gremlin, you decided to take a nap. Unfortunately, your bed did not feel as comfortable as it looked anymore. You tossed and turned for a few minutes, huffing in frustration before finally sitting up and glaring at the offending piece of furniture.
You needed to sleep. You wanted to sleep. But you were not comfortable enough to and it was driving you mad. Grumbling, you got off your bed, shooting it another nasty glare, picked up your favorite fluffy blanket and left the room.
One long and arduous journey up a flight of stairs led you to the perfect place for taking naps; the attic. You sighed in bliss as you sank into the bed, fluffy blanket on top of you soft and comforting on your skin. Things couldn't be any better.
You slipped into dreamland soon after, not realizing that you had forgotten your DDD in your room.
Lucifer frowned, looking at his chat with you.
When Diavolo first told him that you had gone home because you hadn't been feeling well, he wondered whether it was just an excuse. While he hadn't paid you much attention that morning, you seemed perfectly fine. When Simeon told him about your off behavior throughout the day, he got concerned enough to send you messages asking if you had reached the House of Lamentation safely and if you needed anything.
Messages that had gone unread and unanswered, even as it was nearing the end of the school day.
Lucifer wondered momentarily if he was the only one who went ignored, a belief shattered when he heard the loud voices of Asmo and Mammon complaining that you had ignored their messages and calls. Levi nervously asked, "D-do you think they're hurt or something? They don't usually ignore our messages..."
A ripple of panic passed through the brothers, but before anyone could act on that panic, Satan spoke up. "If something was wrong with them, we would have felt it through our pacts. Calm down."
"Satan's right. They must be resting right now," Lucifer hummed, hand resting on his hip as he looked at his brothers. "So you should all refrain from bombarding them with texts and calls. There are only two lectures remaining for the day to end; we can check up on them once we're home."
Garnet eyes watched as his brothers left the student council room one by one, before taking another look at his DDD.
Still unread...
"MC? We're home darling!"
"Shut up Asmo, they're sleeping right now. I can feel it," Belphie grumbled, the soothing hum of the pact mark against his skin lulling him to sleep. It was a calm that washed over him when you were taking part in his sin, and with the intensity of it, he could tell you were in the house.
That was good. The House of Lamentation was safe, more or less.
He watched as Mammon bee-lined straight to your room. Then, in true Mammon fashion, he threw open the door, only to freeze instantaneously.
"Oi, MC?" he called out as he stepped inside the room, eyes finding it empty. "Hey human, where are you?"
"They're not in their room?" Satan asked as he peeked inside said room, frowning as though it could tell him where you went. "Their bag and DDD is still here," he observed.
"Maybe they've gone to one of our rooms? Oh, I do hope it's mine~" Asmo giggled before skipping away. Belphie watched all of his brothers try to get to their own rooms, including Lucifer, in hope they'd find you resting there. Idiots, the bunch of them.
"...Where do you think they are Belphie?"
"The attic, Beel."
"Okay."
Levi made his way to the common room after having checked if you were in his room. It's not like he seriously thought you would be there. He sleeps in a bathtub, and that isn't the most relaxing place to sleep, he knows this. But he was surprised to see almost all of his brothers there as well.
Asmo pouted, leaning against Satan on the sofa. Lucifer sat on the armchair, watching as Mammon paced left and right.
"What's going on?"
"Oh, Levi! MC's not in any of our rooms, and I'm guessing they aren't in yours either?" Asmo hummed as Levi nodded.
"Did you check the twin's room?"
"I did, it was empty as well," Satan answered.
A beat of silence before... "Did anyone check the attic?"
The five brothers looked at each other, realization setting in as 4 of them scrambled to get to their resting human.
Lucifer sighed, before following his brothers up the stairs to the attic. Once he reached the top, he could see Asmo taking photos and cooing at the scene in front of them all.
You were cocooned in a fluffy blanket, your hair the only part of you visible. Beel slept comfortably on his side, his back facing the door to the attic, one arm over your swaddled figure securely. Belphie was on the other side, not asleep for once as he gave his older brothers a lazy smirk. "Took you guys long enough," he chuckled.
"Oi, you brat- mmph!"
"Shut up, they're sleeping," Belphie hissed, the arm used to throw a pillow at Mammon's face lowering and maneuvering the blanket around you so your face was now somewhat visible. "If you promise to be quiet, you can join us," he hummed, before closing his eyes and drifting off to dreamland.
Lucifer gave an exasperated smile as the rest of his brothers joined the cuddle pile, opting to pull a chair beside the bed for himself, content with watching over his family as they rested.
#obey me#obey me shall we date#omswd#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphegore#obey me diavolo#obey me barbatos#obey me solomon#obey me simeon#obey me luke#lucifer#mammon#satan#asmo#levi#beel#belphie#diavolo#barbatos#solomon#simeon#luke#obey me x gn!mc#gn!mc
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𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗯𝗶𝗿𝗱𝘀 𝗮𝗹𝘄𝗮𝘆𝘀 𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴.
Fandom: Stardew Valley
Pairing: Shane X (M!)Reader
Genre/type: Fluff.
Word count: Around 700. (feel free to request more!)
Author’s note: This was requested by @nihilistic-nik a while back - check it out on my Ao3!: https://archiveofourown.org/works/
It's technically M!Reader but it's only briefly mentioned and is pretty much irrelevant.
Summary: A warm, comfortable morning with Shane, sheltered from the rain.
TW: Brief mention of nightmares.
AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45859960
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Cold rain. Warmth.
A rhythmic musicality commences, its origin being from the rain pattering against the windowsill to your left. The sooty grey curtain is slightly drawn, shielding your eyes from the brightness of the outside world, allowing you to fully immerse yourself into the comfort and warmth of your duvet; to prevent you from worrying about anything but the moment itself.
A stubbly arm extends from behind you, and snags you by the waist, pulling you closer. He grunts as though there is something stuck in his throat, his hoarse voice vibrating and his warm, beer infused breath warms the nape of your neck. “Morning…” he says with a rough yawn, and you sense that he is on the verge of drifting off into another peaceful slumber.
You turn to face him. It’s too dark to make out anything but his swollen eyes. Last night was a rough night for him; he has nightmares often, so he asked if you could accompany him. As his boyfriend, you felt obliged to agree, not only for his own benefit, but because you secretly love moments like these. Waking up and feeling the presence of the person you love.
The alarm clock resting on the cabinet beside you jolts with such vigour, it shakes the entire bedside table. It beckons you to release it from its duty, and you do so, your arm stretching out from the cosiness of your sheets, to aggressively whack the hell out of its stop button. You sit up, now awoken by your own force. You know you won’t be able to rest anymore, so you rise, but you feel a hand pull your wrist, but not aggressively…sweetly. Gently.
“Please…stay” his entire face is now unveiled from the constraint of the clean white sheets, revealing a tranquil smile. One that took you many months to weaken his guard for. One you would pay any amount of money for. One you would pay the world for.
“Wait…let me make breakfast first, i’ll bring it back here, yeah? Breakfast in bed.”
He responds, but only with a “mm”.
You get up from the bed and make your way to the kitchen.
Opening the fridge, a draft emerges from the chilled interior, making you shiver. You reach for the carton of eggs when you feel something being wrapped around your shoulders. Shane’s hoodie.
“I couldn’t wait. Sorry.” He says, running circles into your back with his palms. He takes a seat on the barstool at the kitchen countertop, and watches you as you make him eggs on toast.
You crack the eggs. These eggs were the ones that you and Shane had collected from the pen. It’s a good memory; you tripped over a hay bail and went flying into Shane’s arms. He laughed. He laughed…You’d never seen him so happy. So free.
You pour the yolk and the white into a frying pan, and fry it until the edges are golden and crispy. Using a spatula to raise the egg onto his plate, you serve him first. His eyes light up, but not because of the food being presented to him, but because of the smile on your face. Joy ricochets off the creases of your lips, and you feel tears form in the ducts of your eyes.
“What’s…wrong?” he asks.
“I’ve just… never been so happy.” You say.
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End author’s note: Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it <3
#stardew valley#stardew shane#shane stardew valley#sdv#stardew#sdv shane#shane x reader#reader insert#reader fic#x reader#male reader#drabble#reader imagine#fanfic#ao3 writer#ao3 fanfic#shane x farmer#farmer x shane#fluff#fluff fanfic#fluff fanfiction#warm and comfy
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✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* BLEACH ACTOR/ MEDIA AU HEADCANONS || pt.1
note: Brought to you by a former media student [this is my way of a late graduation celebration on this app. And a gift to you guys because you saw my journey from going back to uni after a gap year and my internships] and now media/ comm practitioner 🥺
warnings: Scandals, unedited, mistakes [im doing this on my phone], toxicity
actor au - modern au
Actor Yamamoto! would be a veteran actor that pioneered a certain genre or a specific scene that was present in all the movies he stared in when he was younger. Filming Bleach was an unexpected role. Because in his 30-year-career of action/drama/slapstick/mystery movies, he thought that his wrinkled body at an old age wouldn't land him anymore roles.
- Definitely the type who's strict and would throw acting lines in between takes at younger costars
- All of the Captain-lieutenant actors was told that the 'main captain' would be a veteran actor. None of them expected that it would be him.
- Filming was delayed by a day because every actor that walked into the room was starstruck and suddenly forgot how to act
ACTOR Jushiro! Wanted to pursue theatre studies but financial constraints said no. Still wanting to pursue a career in media, he attended an open University and studied Broadcasting Arts instead.
In his first day as an intern, he was put to test and was tasked to write articles. At the end of his first month, he was put in front of the camera.
Jushiro who was happy he was in front of the camera as an Afternoon newscaster, was called to his Boss' office three weeks later.
In front of him was the series' casting director and director, both of them agreeing that his face looked more angelic in real life than the news.
News events didn't suit a face like that anyway, he was fit for a gentle captain.
Actor Jushiro! found his way back home to his initial dream.
His background in Broadcasting helped him give articulate answers at movie premieres and red carpet events.
Always seen with his hair tied low and in a black suit, nodding along to the interviewers question.
one time the interviewer was an old classmate of his, it was then the world saw a more hyper version of himself.
Very much involved with the framing process of scenes
Actor Shunsui! Who's either gone too quiet or has the tabloids running after him. For the most normal things, too. Everything he did was a big deal. After all he came from a well known Business family.
'Kyoraku son photographed wasted and escorted out of Kyoto bar'
'Sex, Scandals, and guitar strings: Exclusive cover of what Japan's hottest actor does on his nights off'
It's funny how he accumulated a magazine tower of bizarre articles and has gotten used to the lens following him around.
Actor Shunsui would start as a child actor, starring in commercials because of his mother. His father forbidding him to pursue acting and to focus on the family business was acceptable at first.
His father divorcing his mother and telling the board of directors that actresses are good entertainers but not wives, was not.
Shunsui genuinely loved acting. All the things he did on the side, it was to spite his father.
"How serious are you with your craft?" Asked Yamamoto when Shunsui showed up hungover at filming day. It was only through Yamamoto that Shunsui felt a father's care.
Actor Shunsui who can buy his privacy, bit chooses not to and does more things that'll spite his father more. Who even goes as far as saying "He can only see me on paper. He'll have to come to my mother and I if he's genuinely asking for forgiveness"
Actor Unohana comes to me as Michelle Yeoh of the Bleach actor Au-verse
Definitely the type/ cast member whose personality is close to the character she plays. Is composed.
Very much involved in the scriptwriting process of the series and is always seen next to the director with a script rolled up, talking amongst themselves as their eyes scan actor after actor.
Has the most confusing humour on set, would say the most childish things in the sternest tone.
Starred in other big name shows such as FMaB, JJK [pls JUST UNDERSTAND THE VISION]
Is always partnered with Ukitake on red carpets because of her answers.
Actor Byakuya! a nepotism child. He's a distant relative of Unohana but listen. A nepotism child but what's more surprising is that an actor who's a tenured professor in a College of Communications in prestigious universities. It surprises people so much that they forget he's a nepo-beb
- His tone scares alot of new students, but plenty of his former students would laugh about how he just agreed to anything and doesn't seem to give harsh feedback despite trying to.
- Would specialise in Communication Research and Communication theories.
one time he was asked to teach an introduction to film subject for a semester, and took his students to the filming of the bleach episodes.
immediately after the director yelled cut, Professor Byakuya mode entered, saying, "I expect a paper on what shots were used and the importance of it to the story. That is your midterm."
Starred in a number of films and shows. His voice alone made him a host for a number of awarding events.
Has a special place for bleach, would automatically say yes and sign a contract. But with other offers he would immediately tell that he's busy for the semester.
Being an actor-professor would be annoying. Rapid taps of his fingertips on his laptop would ruin so many silent scenes, always has his laptop hidden in the scene and pulls it out just as the director is about yell cut.
Wandered into the wrong studio once after a marathon of teaching classes and was confused why everyone wore uniforms and hung on the ceilings [JJK Reference]
Definitely started wearing Haoris out of habit after many, many seasons on bleach.
Actor Aizen! Who's roots started as an idol trainee but debuted as an actor in romance films. Always the second lead that never received loved. His crying scenes broke the hearts of many and garnered fans.
He wanted to be challenged and not remain the second lead, wowed the casting directors with his monologue.
Almost backed out of the season when he read the tweets that questioned if a romance actor was fit for a show like bleach.
Another actor that received Yamamoto's wisdom. "You can't control many things, your craft is something that you can." Was all he offered when he heard Aizen's sniffle in a cubicle.
Aizen who's seemingly composed on red carpets, but breaks down to kpop idol rely dances in variety shows and is unashamed to dance to any choreo.
TWICE STAN ACTOR AIZEN IMAGINE THIS PLEASE
Actor Aizen always seen in airports, a Birkin and cardigans. "Look at him and his role" "love the duality" "I stan" "this guy can play god, but can stan harder" are the variations of tweets in everytime a new candid photo of him is released.
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would you consider animorphs a greek tragedy/the characters traditional tragic heroes? if so, what would you consider their fatal flaws?
Ehhh, it's never gonna be one-size-fits-perfect to apply a stage genre from ~2300 years ago to a novel series with entirely different media constraints from ~20 years ago. However. To paraphrase Aristotle, a tragedy has to have a:
Basically decent and likeable protagonist for the viewers to stan, BUT
Your fave is problematic: they think they're too cool for the gods, BUT
At least they figure it out in the end, BUT
It's too late to prevent them from losing everything and/or dying, ERGO
The audience leaves going "man, I feel bad but kinda good? Like, that ending made sense but it was a bummer and I didn't like how my blorbo died there, and I dunno I got a lot to think about, three out of five stars" [catharsis]
So there are contemporary stories that fit the bill of Greek Tragedy better, e.g. a lot of horror movies. Almost every Friday the Thirteenth involves the characters being told outright not to transgress ("don't go in the lake", "watch the kids, not each others' butts," etc.), followed by the characters' arrogantly transgressing anyway, followed by a godlike creature (Jason Voorhees) taking a disproportionate amount of revenge on them. Similarly, a lot of survival horror movies cast forces of nature as entities that punish anyone stupid enough to disregard them (Jaws and sharks, Frozen and blizzards, Cujo and rabies, Open Water and open water), and have the characters be basically likeable people who still mess up out of arrogance and get killed real dead for it.
And I would argue that Animorphs doesn't fit the bill as well as horror movies like Blair Witch Project or The Ruins, because those latter examples involve experts (i.e. prophets) waving their arms and shouting "don't mess with this force of nature" as the protagonists walk on by to go mess with the force of nature, only to get killed by it. However, I also think that there are ways that Animorphs does fit the trope.
The characters are likeable: they look out for each other and their families, they tell funny jokes, they try to protect their planet, they risk their lives for their principles.
The characters are deeply flawed: they kill prisoners of war, they draw moral lines ("don't morph sapients without permission", "don't kill humans if possible") that they later trample over, they commit mass murder in the name of expedience.
The characters don't get happy endings: Marco gets a successful career that proves hollow, Jake hides at his parents' until he can't, Rachel dies, Ax dies, Tobias hides in a meadow until he can't, and Cassie... sort of does okay.
The characters (mostly) figure out their own flaws in the end:
When going into her last battle, Rachel says "Cassie thinks I'm fearless. Marco thinks I'm reckless. Tobias... well, Tobias loves me... By loving me, those two [Tobias and Cassie] would have messed everything up."
Jake tells Ax on the beach, after Visser One's trial, that "You did call my attention to the possibilities on the Pool ship. And when you did that I guess I should have thought, Well, Jake, it's a harsh, terrible thing to do, but you're justified because, after all, you're the victim here. But that's not what I thought. You know what I thought?... Die, you filthy worms. Feel the fear, Yeerks. Feel the pain. Feel the helplessness. [I] wanted them to suffer and the idea of them suffering and dying made [me] happy..."
Tobias's is subtler, but when watching the hikers in his meadow and says: "If they stayed another night she would play her flute again. Which shouldn't bother me. But if there's one great lesson to surviving alone, it's this: Don't lie to yourself. I was all I had, and I had to tell myself the truth, and the truth was that their presence bothered me." He doesn't say it outright, but he implies that he gave up everything to be alone and that he still gets lonely sometimes.
For Marco, when Jake interrupts him whining about his TV show with "Marco, you were bored out of your mind", Marco says "Yes, I was." Again it's subtler, but Marco is clearly aware that the things he wants are rarely the things he needs.
Ax never quite unlearns those glory hound tendencies. He knows he's not supposed to lead a boarding party, "But I was bored. And I knew the T.O. wouldn't argue: I wasn't just the captain or a prince, I was... a living legend." And then "You were supposed to want to stop fighting and go home to your meadow... At some level I did, too. But how do you weigh the sharp rush of battle against... watching your trees flower?" He loves glory a little too much, and he gets his whole crew killed for it.
For Cassie, her confrontation with Erek forces her to realize her flaw when she angrily tells him "Rachel and Tom are both dead... Thanks to you." When Erek shoots back that the Animorphs drained the Pool ship, she starts to say "Jake did what he had to do... We needed a div—" But cuts herself off, disgusted with her own rationalizing, before she finishes the word "diversion." Erek then spells it out: Cassie's fatal flaw is that she cares more about one life (Tom, Rachel) than 17,000.
Anyway, I think that some parts of Aristotle's idea fit reasonably well. But also that it's not a perfect example of the trope and that there are contemporary works that fit the trope better than Animorphs does.
#animorphs#animorphs meta#animorphs spoilers#the beginning#tragedy#aristotle#poetics#greek tragedy#tropes#tragic heroes#long post#classics
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Book Notes: Belles of London Series
Some of you may have noticed a new addition to our store — Island Books now has a dedicated romance section and I couldn't be happier. Cheerful covers in bright colors, containing stories where all kinds of people find their HEA (happy ever after) or HFN (happy for now). As a person who decidedly prefers books to end on a happy (or at least hopeful) note, romances are a genre I can count on. And often an author will write a series that lets you watch everyone out of a friend group find love, allowing me to linger in a delightful fictional world.
One series that I just discovered, a little late to the party, is Belles of London by Mimi Matthews. Lil recommended the first book, The Siren of Sussex, a few years ago, and I was finally able to pick it up. I barely needed Cindy’s "first page test" to be hooked and quickly finished it. I then raced through the next two books, The Belle of Belgrave Square and The Lily of Ludgate Hill, in this planned four book series. (The fourth being The Muse of Maiden Lane, coming out 11/19/24).
Set in Victorian England, all the heroines are equestriennes, and finding the marriage mart challenging for a variety of reasons. The Siren of Sussex features Evelyn Maltravers, the second daughter of an impoverished family. After her older sister embroiled herself in scandal instead of making the advantageous marriage she was supposed to, Evelyn is tasked with snaring herself a wealthy husband and saving her family. But she knows her best chance to catch the eye of eligible noblemen is not in the ballroom but on the back of her horse, a place she always feels confident. And to really make an impression, she needs the most fashionable riding habits she can afford.
Enter Ahmad Malik, who only needs the right influential woman of the ton to wear his designs to help him finally realize his dream of owning his own dressmaker's establishment. When Evelyn commissions him to make her riding habits, he decides to take her as his muse and dress her for the season. It's not long before fitting sessions blossom into something more, but Evelyn is bound by financial constraints. And Ahmad is reluctant to entangle his own heart with a woman society says he could never have. The path of true love never did run smooth!
I loved the way Mimi Matthews took on the challenges of an interracial couple with significant class differences as the heart of her romance. And I also loved every lushly described detail of the gorgeous clothes Ahmad designs for Evelyn. Throughout The Siren of Sussex, enough teasers are dropped for the other heroines of her series (and their prospective beaus) that I was eager to continue on and see what romances lay in store for them. Matthews builds romantic tension masterfully and employs a dual point-of-view so the reader can appreciate the inner journeys of both leads.
Pick up The Siren of Sussex if a swoony Victorian historical romance series sounds like the escape read you need right now. Or come check out our new romance section and see what else catches your eye!
— Lori
#island books#lori robinson#book notes#mimi matthews#siren of sussex#belle of belgrave square#lily of ludgate hill#belles of london#victorian romance
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Maybe I’m writing in the wrong genre.
I have a dream to write in almost every genre one day. And right now im writing contemporary romance. But this is my third story idea for this genre and im going to scrap it. After outlining it, creating playlists, moodboards, long charactersheets. I’m going to scrap this idea, I just feel it. It won’t go in the trash but I won’t be continuing it atm. I started to wonder why I get so far in planning but then fail to get into the story all the way— and what came to mind is that maybe I should be writing in another genre. I really like fantasy but I put off in it because, Worldbuilding takes time, and I should be refining my skills as a writer before doing something so big. That’s why I chose to do something contemporary but maybe contemporary just doesn’t speak to me. Or my outlining process is garbage?
i think when you're in the planning/outlining stage, you shouldn't even consider genre. deciding the genre too early about something you're still discovering colors too many creative decisions. if you know you're writing romance, you know before you even begin that your story will have a HEA ending or a HFN one, because that's the expectation of the genre. but what if the story you're writing doesn't ask for a happy ending? you're putting your story in a box that it might not fit in, just because you decided--before the thing even exists--that it belongs in the box. sometimes you can't pick the box before you create the item that goes inside it.
tl;dr maybe for some people the constraint of a box inspires them and helps them reel in their ideas. but if you're finding yourself scrapping ideas repeatedly, it's because you don't yet know the shape of them to best determine where they belong.
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I feel kind of dumb. >go on r/asoiaf >'this is why feudalism bad! GRRM is criticising feudalism!' idgi. We haven't had feudalism for ages. Do I need the old man to explain to me why the divine right of kings is misogynistic and generally quite bad? I feel like it's a bit of a reductive attitude and I think it makes the ending he'll choose to go with really unclear. Anything short of a heckin' democracy would feel bad. *wipes the reddit off of me* What do you think?
Anonymous asked: I sent that anon ask before I realised that it does crossover with topics you've touched on before so please feel free to ignore it, but if you want to springboard more specifically about the social criticism intentions of ASOIAF that could also work lol. It's a very frustrating thing to the point I wonder how ASOIAF can exist as a text if taken through such a lens.
First of all, hello & happy new year! 🎉 Sorry for the late reply, but I've been busy with celebrations.
That being said, I do think that people sometimes take this universe way too seriously. GRRM can criticize feudalism without dismantling the entire system at the end of the series and that's an absolutely normal way to write pseudo-medieval fantasy. So often I see takes like "there's no worthy king" gain popularity, except that there is? This is what we're looking for in this particular text. I understand that this doesn't jive with many people's political beliefs, but we are living in 2023 and this text we're stanning is fantasy literature with brave knights and courtly politics. It's really not that deep. Nowhere does it say that enjoying medieval fantasy has to reflect in your real-life voting patterns or that it's representative of some evil drive within you to exploit your fellow man.
And just because feudalism is bad (which it is! it sucks!) doesn't mean that having a "good" king can't make a difference and can't improve people's lives. Those with an all-or-nothing attitude are going to be disappointed at the end of the series, because GRRM never intended to re-write a new, completely fair political system.*
*at least IMO, after all, we could always take a Stephen King turn and change genres to sci-fi and the answer to everything will be aliens. and spaceships and stargates. lol.
What I think he was interested in is a passion project showcasing his love of history (since so many details are inspired by real-life history). Also, to bring it back to the social critique you mentioned, another point of interest in the medieval setting is that it allows him to build sophisticated characters that navigate their various constraints in different ways. It's the variety of personalities and approaches and reactions to these sometimes rigid impediments (be they social, economic or political) that make ASOIAF stand out in the world of fantasy. To give an example, it's both Cersei and Sansa being abused by the patriarchy, but taking such wildly different stances as a result of sometimes similar experiences! ("The only way to keep your people loyal is to make certain they fear you more than they do the enemy" vs "If I am ever queen, I will make them love me.") etc. One thing we cannot take away from GRRM is that he is wildly talented at writing people, with distinct values and belief systems, formed as a result of unique (or not!) life experiences, who benefit from varying degrees of privilege, who wield that privilege in particular ways etc. Could you do that in any time period? Of course you could, but he chose medievalesque and that's also fine.
I know that D&D made a stupid joke in the last episode about how silly democracy is and I agree that it was very heavy-handed in their typical dudebro, nuance-less way. But here are the current roadblocks that limit the amount of freedom the general population have:
the majority are illiterate;
the printing press has not been invented in Westeros. Books are copied by hand;
the road infrastructure is poor;
modes of transportation are really not very fast;
How are you going to spread democratic ideas in this context? I don't think people realise that, in order for representative democracy to work (and it has to be representative with a population so large), you need organizational resources that do not exist in Westeros - voting lists, polling stations, election observers, people who can count the votes and centralize the results in an efficient way etc. How large is Westeros again?
the lack of modern medicine keeps people beholden to antiquated patriarchal and religious views;
In a world where there is no birth control,* where STDs can be a death sentence, where you can die from a simple fever or infection, where many women die in childbirth, you will always find societal restrictions imposed on women and their bodies/wombs, as well as prudish views on sex. It's absolutely slut-shaming, but, with the existing technology available, it's also a health concern. What if you get sick from having multiple sex partners? How can you prove the child is your husband's if you sleep with more people? Or vice-versa, what about your lawful children if you, as the man, keep allocating resources to your bastard children? (this is important for marriage contracts for the purpose of inheritance).
*there are characters who seem to take moon tea without issue, but it's not a foolproof recipe as it can have dangerous side effects (see Lysa). Also it doesn't seem to be freely available to everyone.
very few cities within Westeros; most of the population live in the rural area and have agriculture jobs;
the status of guilds is unclear; how many? what occupations? in any case, guilds are closed organizations not everyone can join - as a regular Joe, you can't practice the trade of a guild, you can't access their knowledge etc;
all the land is owned by the lords; how are you going to earn a living and pull yourself by the bootstraps out of feudalism?
the lords live in castles. Castles are nigh impenetrable, it can't be overstated how effective they are at keeping away attackers and how hard they are to conquer. What are you going to do about it. Cannons haven't been invented in Westeros. Dragons do exist, but they are painted as destructive forces of nature that shouldn't exist, most definitely shouldn't concentrate that level of power in the hands of a few individuals, and will most likely disappear once and for all at the end of the series. In short, dragons will not be used as a deterrent against the construction of castles and to even out the power differential between the rich and the poor.
In real history, it was changes in warfare technology and the centralization of government that caused castles to lose their utility (more power in the hands of the king? tumblr is going to hate that).
Acknowledging these limitations and drafting an ending that's believable with the available technology painstakingly described in seven books is not going to be a cop-out or morally bankrupt or even particularly cynical. It's the best that can be done in bad circumstances. And isn't that all that we can ever do anyway?
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New Song Music
It has been a frustrating and uninteresting task to find music that you enjoy. Many of you who are reading this would probably agree. Please let me define "music as you like it".
It is music that makes you feel good, or allows you to see a brighter side to things (that light at the end). It is music that can change your mood (from bad into good, or vice versa), and make an impossible task possible. Music is Emotional and Compassionate. It compliments our lives.
You may have festival ortigueira found yourself tapping to an unfamiliar beat or melody, only to realize that you had been doing so and continue tapping. When we are fortunate enough to hear music we have never heard before and we enjoy it, we often wonder about the piece's name, the artist or album.
It can be difficult to determine the source of the New Song Music. It could have been the radio, Internet, Internet Radio, a restaurant, lounge, Gym etc. You can find new music in many different ways. If you've never heard it, it is brand new. You love it the same way you do a brand new car.
Let's talk about this and remove dumb luck. How often do you stumble upon great music that you love while on your daily commute? Most people do not have this kind of free time unless they live in college or go to clubs and happy hour every day ("ahhhh, the good old days"). Some of us have the luxury of working in the entertainment industry or having jobs that allow for plenty of free time.
We all have time constraints and a moderate to heavy amount of responsibility. Finding new ortigueira music will require a little more planning and deliberateness. This is a convenient and easy way to discover new song music frequently.
You are probably aware that most of the new music played on mainstream radio is not very appealing. The same songs that are not appealing are then played over and over again. You may lose interest in a song sung by an artist that you like if it is played too many times. How do you introduce new artists with so much repetition? This is what I call the radio loop.
Here are some ways to find good New Song Music. Music Blogs and Social Music Sites can identify similar artists based on the genres or categories of your current favorites.
Music blogs...
You can download music from Mp3 blogs. You can listen to the music and leave your opinion after you download it. The featured artists are usually new, unknown, less known or underground.
A blog post will be included with your music download, giving you background information and biographical details about the artist. You will most likely be able see how other people have rated the music, depending on its age. It can help you decide if it's worth spending time listening to the music.
These mp3s are distributed by record labels or promotion companies, so the music is free and legal. The majority of the downloads are from artists who promote music, making it a great place to discover some musical treasures.
Check out One track mind and the Hype Machine. Your opinion is highly encouraged. This is how sites can provide you with new songs daily. Remember to rate and vote the songs that you enjoy, as well as the ones that you don't. It only takes a few seconds. Here is a chance to help out when you can.
Social Music Sites...
The Incumbent Independent artists submit their musical works for review to these Musical communities. Listeners who are soon to be fans of the music recommend it to other members in the community. This type of social network allows you to see at a glance what music other listeners like. You can add to your personal musical Internet jukebox.
My favorite social music sites are the Sixty One and our stage.
Music Portal Sites
Most of these Sites are geared towards promoting unsigned artists and allowing their music to reach a wider audience. Listen carefully as the new music is often original and unique. Listeners are encouraged to invest in artists that they like. Once an artist has reached their budget goal they can record a professional album. The artist can then negotiate their own deal with the record label. This allows for the artist to create their own deals with record labels, without being restricted by limitations. The artist/artists can then retain creative control and maintain the musical message. Record Labels are free from main stream restrictions. You get to listen to new songs before they hit the mainstream and top of the charts.
Check out Africa Unsigned and Sola band for great resources.
There's literally dozens of different ways to discover new music...
Here are just a few of the many ways you can discover new music. Please take your own initiative to discover New Music, and share it with others as often and as much as you can.
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Genre: Smut
Pairing: boyfriend!jungkook X reader
Word Count: 931
Warning/s: Swearing, Voyurism
Synopsis: You and your boyfriend, Jungkook play a video that takes a very unexpected twist!
A/N: I didn't proof read so if typos piss you off, i suggest you scroll. I used the cover photo as a prompt and I had a lot of fun writing this! Happy reading!! Also feel free to send in a drabble (prompt list on my card in bio).
“I’m so bored I’m gonna die,” you whined.
“You’re not, I'll let you play after this round,” your boyfriend said.
“You’ve been saying that forever,” you roll your eyes.
“Yeah, go through the left Tae, I’ll come through the right and we’ll meet in the middle,” Jungkook said into his headset, ignoring your whining.
“Why do you hate me,” you huffed, flopping yourself down on your shared bed.
“Yeah they’re fine, they just want to play. Being a brat, as usual.”
“Just let me play!”
“Fine, since I just finished this round?” he said, moving from his position on the bed and giving you the controller and headphones.
“Finally,” you say, taking devices from your partner and sitting on his spot on the bed while he moves to the floor.
“Is the mic on-“
You were cut off by the sound of earrape on the other side, making you jump.
“Fucking hell Tae, you’re so annoying,” you yell into the mic.
“Hehe,” Tae teased.
You played the game as usually as you and Tae casually cursed each other out and roasted each other on your techniques.
You were about 30 minutes in until you felt your boyfriend come up behind you and lift you up on his lap.
You felt how hard he was on your ass.
“Kook you’re unbelievable.”
“Did he buy a bunch of gyeran gwaja again?”
“No, don’t worry about it and get this kill,” you say, attempting to regain focus.
Jungkook reached down into your shorts, his fingers danced across your pussy skillfully, avoiding your clit causing you to squirm against your boyfriend’s cock.
It’s like you were a game, and Jungkook knew all your cheat codes. He really knew how to press all the right buttons.
Your boyfriend trailed his fingertips of his free hand lightly up and down your inner thigh.
Luckily for you the round was about to end and you would safely be able to mute your mic.
You were never quiet in bed, your whimpers and cries were one of many things that turned Jungkook on.
Your cute mewls and precious begging made his heart swell so he had to hear you every session you had.
He was playing a very dangerous game, but up to this point it was no longer in his favor…
Or so you thought.
When this round finally ended and you went to go mute your mic..
“What the hell,” you curse under your breath.
“The button is jammed,” a sinister voice said from behind you right before vigorously rubbing your clit.
The sensation caught you off guard causing you to let out a breathy whimper.
“Ugh I almost sneezed,” you played it off.
“Bless you,” your boyfriend teased, sliding his finger from your clit to your sensitive hole.
He casually slid two fingers in and thrusted them and and out of you.
“Can you press ready already so we can start,” Tae nagged, oblivious to you getting fingered by your boyfriend.
“Oh right, Kook was distracting me,” you say trying to sound as normal as possible.
The thing is you can bare Jungkook’s fingers… barely but at least you had the slightest bit of self control.
It was his cock that you were worried about.
His cock was perfect, maybe even too much for you. You knew that his fingers were just a warm up for his cock but you still intended to win this battle.
You felt him tug at the hem of your shorts. You stood up and let him take them off you.
While you were standing Jungkook freed his cock from its constraints and rubbed your hips and eased you down on his member.
The stretch made you hold your breath and let out a big huff of air, making Jungkook frown.
This wasn’t a game you were supposed to be winning, he’s played this game many times. He knew you like the back of his hand…
He didn’t consider how this was a different situation. He didn’t realize he had to put in more work than usual- which wasn’t a bad thing for him.
A devious smirk came across your boyfriend’s face as he slowly realized what he had to do.
He opened your legs wide, so they were outside of his, he laid back and held your waist in his hands.
He then began to roughly and quickly thrust into you, catching you off guard.
This was your last life, and you just lost it. It was a good run.
You threw the headset and the controller to the side and gave into the sensation not caring about Tae, or the neighbors, or whatever else could hear you.
Jungkook’s cock was slamming right into your g-spot making your eyes teary.
You felt a knot build up in your abdomen, you tried to tell him you were cumming but the words wouldn’t come out.
You aggressively slapped Kook’s thigh trying to get him to stop.
“Words,” he groaned. He was close too but he refused to cum first.
“Gah- I’m cuming,” you screamed in euphoria, before you started to aggressively rub your clit.
“Cum for me baby- fuck,” he groaned, which was followed by your boyfriend cumming into you.
“F-fuck,” you whimper feeling Kook’s warm liquid spew inside of you.
“You’re an ass hole you know that,” you say breathlessly, leaning back on your partner.
“Yeah but you like it,” he said, wrapping his arms around you before saying,“ you enjoy that Tae.”
Little did you two know Tae had his cock in his hands and was close to cumming, himself.
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May I Have This Dance? ¬ Steve Rogers
Plot - After retiring his shield, Steve's partner realises that he seems to be missing something.
Requested? Yes/No
Genre - ☁️️Fluff ☁️️
Note/Warning - Steve didn't return to Peggy after Endgame (I refuse to accept that ending honestly), I think this is GN but please let me know if I have used fem!pronouns, also the reader wears a dress in this so if you are uncomfortable with that be aware.
Word Count - 1.7k
After your husband Steve retired from the superhero living, life seemed dull in his eyes. You could see that his once vibrant baby blues had lost their sparkle, their joy for life.
Whilst him having more time meant that your relationship thrived, Steve was missing something and you were missing him being truly happy.
It was Sunday and a rule of the Rogers relationship is that Sunday was an "Old School Day".
No technology, no going to the city and no current news or media of any kind.
It took a while to get use to but you soon learned to love it because it meant that you had the whole day with your soulmate, no distractions. But today was different, there was one thing that had taken up your entire focus all day.
A few days prior, you were in line at the supermarket when you spotted a flyer.
DANCE YOURSELF BACK TO THE 40s!
Have you ever wondered what a 40s dance was like?
Well if the answer is yes, get yourself down to the Michaelton Hall this Sunday at 7:30pm
The cashier was a motherly looking woman in her late 60s named Dorothy, her family had owned the supermarket here since the 1920s and being a cashier here was her first job. Twice a week she would come down and "relive her youth" as her husband always jokes.
"I thought that might catch your eye" Dorothy spoke after watching you inspect the flyer. "The old music, the clothes and just that feeling of a simpler time. I'm hoping to convince William to take me but getting him to dress up like a princess is more likely than getting him to dance."
You laugh at the woman's joke but mainly at the idea of William in a frilly dress. William and Dorothy had been married for 52 years but the only time William ever danced with her was on their wedding night, a story that you thought was sad but Dora took it in her stride.
"Well I am thinking that this might be a good way to get Steve out of his funk, even for only a night" You say with a wistful look on your face whilst piling fruit into your shopping bag.
"What a wonderful idea my dear!" Dorothy exclaimed whilst scanning the final item "There is a quaint little vintage store about half a mile out of town, I am sure you'd find a dress to knock Steve's socks off"
Smiling at the woman, you hand her some cash before taking one last look at the flyer "You are like a fairy godmother Dora. Have a lovely day and hopefully see you at the dance".
By the next morning, you were keen to start prepping for the Sunday surprise. Giving your husband a kiss goodbye, you headed off to 'run some errands'.
First stop was buying the tickets, then that left you with finding the perfect 40s dress.
You headed out of town to the vintage store Dorothy mentioned but you were not prepared for how beautiful the shop was. Flowers in corners all over the place, fairy-lights decorated the clothing racks and old pieces of sparkling jewellery was displayed throughout the store.
You could have spent hours in there, it felt like a visual time machine but it seemed luck was on your side. As you strolled further into the store, you noticed a stunning pastel floor-length satin dress with light embellishments near the sleeves. That was exactly what you needed.
Everything was ready. Tickets were bought, dress was found and Steve's old military suit was ready to be worn. All you had to do now was keep it from your husband till Sunday.
Making it to Sunday evening was difficult, you had nearly exposed the plans twice but thankfully Steve believed the excuses you came up with. But now it was time to get ready.
"My love, guess what I found the other day in the attic" You call out to your super-solider husband. "Your old army uniform. Perfect condition as well".
Handing the outfit to Steve, you see his eyes light up with the memories of his time back in the 1940s. Although he looked only slightly older than he did the last time he wore it, it was like looking back in time.
"Wow, I didn't think I would ever see this again." He spoke caressing the material.
"Steve, do you think you could maybe try it on again? I would love to have a glimpse of what use to be the fashion" You asked carefully, trying to make sure he didn't suspect anything else.
A small smile graced his face. "Of course, I probably would have wanted to try it on either way" And with a laugh, he headed upstairs to suit up.
Whilst the super-solider was getting ready, you slipped into your dress and quickly slipped on an oversized shirt which made it look like you were wearing a long skirt and t-shirt. Applying a bit of makeup before double checking that your purse was ready with the tickets, car keys and some other essentials.
Hearing footsteps descend your staircase, you turn around to a fully suited and confident looking Steve Rogers. This man has managed to make you fall more in love every day for the past 6 years but in this moment, he took your breath away.
"You look so handsome. How did I ever get lucky enough to call you my husband?" You express as you reach up to lay the corner of his collar down. Even though you compliment your husband all the time, Steve still flushes a bit red at the sweet words.
Leaning in to give him a small kiss, you suddenly remember that you are on a time constraint. You pull back with a mischievous grin dancing on your face.
"Oh no, I know that face. What have you done?" Steve asks with a little chuckle. Instead of responding, you grab his hand and head out to the car. After instructing him to get into the passenger seat, you settle yourself in the driver's seat and start the car whilst Steve sits beside you watching like he was trying to solve a puzzle - the puzzle being you.
"I have a surprise for you but I am going to need you to put this blindfold on whilst I drive us there" With a grin on your face and your hand offering a silk blue blindfold to your incredibly confused but handsome husband.
Cautiously Steve reaches for the blindfold and puts it on, he would trust you with his life so why not trust you with a small surprise.
After driving for 15 minutes or so, Steve feels the car stop and turn off.
"Wait one second" You say before he hears you open your door.
Bubbling with excitement you quickly discard of your t-shirt, place some kitten heels on and apply a sultry shade of red on your lips before throwing anything you don't need in the trunk.
Walking over to Steve's side of the car, you calm your nerves slightly with a deep breathe. Opening the passenger door, you take a hold of Steve's hand and carefully guide him towards the entrance of the hall.
Sounds of Moonlight Serenade songs fill his ears as he enters, still completely oblivious to his partner's scheme. He notices that it is far warmer in this area and that he can smell a mix of perfume and whiskey.
"Okay baby, when I count to 3, you can take off your blindfold" You finally say.
"1"
"2"
"3"
As Steve removes the silk blocking his vision and is immediately hit with a feeling of nostalgia. The hall looked like something out of his memories; men and women dressed in 40s fashion dancing the night away, a small band playing all the most popular songs from the decade he yearned for, men who reminded him of Bucky trying to pick up girls at the bar.
Steve thought that he was blown away until he saw his Y/N. The person who made life worth living, who made everything seem light again. There they stood, looking like they had just walked off the silver screen from an old movie. Steve never really believed that he could live such a happy life but somewhere along the way, he must have done something right because now he is married to an angel.
Walking up to you, he placed his hands on your waist and looked deep into your eyes. Drowning in Steve's ocean blue eyes was a favourite past-time of yours but this felt more than that.
"I noticed you have been a bit down since you gave up the shield and I couldn't see you frown anymore." You whisper quietly as if you were nervous that this plan wouldn't work.
"I know I say it constantly but I love you, Y/N Rogers. Your kindness, your care, your effortless beauty, you." Steve recited, filling every word with pure love and appreciation.
"Sometimes I think that I am no one if I am not Captain America or I don't belong in this world but you. You, Y/N, you made me realise that you are my home, not the past. You are the only one I need in this life-time or any other life-time because you taught me who I am beyond the shield."
Tears start to well up in your eyes as you hang off his every word.
"This dance is amazing but what makes me happy is that I get to spend tonight and every night with my soulmate" Steve takes a step back and extends his hand. "So, may I have this dance my darling?"
Reaching for his hand, you make your way onto the dance floor amongst the other couples. As the song dies down, Stella by Frank Sinatra starts filling the hall with a romantic atmosphere and you feel Steve place his hand on your hip before placing another in your hand. This was truly a night to remember.
As you sway with your husband, you let your eyes wander to the other dancing couples and near the centre of the dance floor, you spot Dorothy and William smiling and swaying like teenagers again.
All you can do is hope that you and Steve will be dancing together when you are old and grey.
#steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers imagine#steve rogers x you#captain america#captain america x you#captain america x reader#steve rogers fluff#captain america imagine#steve rogers fic#captain america fic#marvel imagine#steve rogers oneshot#captain america oneshot
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maknae line reaction to s/o with big tiddies
Pairing: Jimin x female reader, Taehyung x female reader, Jungkook x female reader
Rating: 18+, M(mature)
Genre: established relationship, fluff?, smut
Warnings: lots of nipple play, oral(m&f), unprotected sex (pls play it safe bro), cumming on boobies, fingering, slight dirty talk? body praises our bois are respectful and sweet babies uwu
Word Count: 1.8k
Summary/ Request: “Could I request a reaction to a big tiddie gf. Can be either fluffy or smutty. Maknae or hyung line. Please and thank you.”
A/N: Hello, here is the maknae line reaction uwu. I hope y’all enjoy these ideas I brewed in the back of my crazy mind :) I have 2 more hyung line reaction requests coming very soon so stay tuned. Also, if there’s any other warnings that need to be added, please let me know. I’ll be happy to add them for y’all. Hope y’all enjoy, any feedback would be appreciated :) (also credits to the gif makers)(also huge thank you to @dontaskshhhhh for always dealing with me uwu)
Jimin
Jimin had a long day at work and he felt as if his limbs were going to fall off at any given moment. He always said to go hard or go home but he's always pushed himself no matter what. Thankfully, you always found ways to help him relax.
Tonight, you were on our knees in front of him, one of his favorite methods to help him relax. Your mouth was full of his cock and your arms pushing up your round breasts. Jimin absolutely loved how you looked. He always voiced out how much he adored your breasts and how beautiful you looked for him.
"You look so perfect baby, All for me?" His hand caressed your cheek as you moaned around his cock. The vibrations of your moans around his cock twitch in your mouth. Jimin's head fell back as he released a mixture of moans and your name laced with pleasure. His cock felt deliciously heavy in your mouth and you wanted to make him feel good.
You removed your arm from your chest and placed your palm on the part of his length that you couldn't reach with your mouth. Pulling away slightly to take a few breaths of air in your lungs, you admired your boyfriend in all his naked glory. The slick from your mouth providing the extra wetness to pump his length. Jimin's hooded eyes locked in with yours and you smiled coyly up at him before taking his full length down your throat.
Jimin let out a few sweet moans from his plump lips. He refused to look away from you. Your lustful look, your lips wrapped around his cock, the way you held your breasts just the way he liked, he loved it all. He loved it too much and it would always push him over the edge into pure bliss. His cock twitched continuously in your mouth and you gave one last suck before you pulled away.
"You're gonna let me cum on those pretty tits baby?" Jimin growled at the little string of saliva that connected your mouth and the tip of his cock. He pumped his cock with fervor as he neared his high. Knowing it would push him to where he needed, you pinched your nipples and let out a breathy moan. Tipping him over the edge, his slick cock painted your breasts with his warm cum. Once he finally let out the last spurts of his cum on your breasts, he gently tapped the tip of his cock on your tongue.
"Fuck, look at how pretty your tits look covered in my cum baby." He sat back on the bed behind him and admired the work of art on your body before he brought your body up to straddle him. A new wave of energy flowed through your bodies as your soaked core met his cock and you knew that tonight was going to be full of pleasure.
Taehyung
Taehyung's large hand rested on your bare breast. No matter how you both fell asleep, his hands somehow always ended up on your breasts.
This morning was no different. Everything was silent and peaceful. The comfort of your bed was enough to trap the both of you in for another lazy day. All you could hear was your boyfriend's steady breaths as he laid his head right above your chest.
Your hands played with the black tresses covering your boyfriend's face as his fingertips gently trailed up and down your body, leaving goosebumps behind. Your breath hitched as whenever his fingers would come close to your nipples and your lower tummy.
Taehyung's eyes carefully watched the rise of your chest, wanting nothing more than to please you but he knew you were enjoying it and it made his cock stir. His warm breath fanned over your perked nipples, his tongue licked his bottom lip as you shut your eyes at the sensation.
Smirking, he fingers grazed down your body until he got to your thighs. He gently tapped on them as he lifted his body to see the mess in between your thighs. Knowing exactly what he wanted, you spread your thighs for him. Taehyung released a throaty moan at the sight of your glistening pussy. He wanted to eat you out until you begged him to stop but he had better plans in mind.
His fingers gently spread out your lips as your arousal dripped down your hole. Gently letting out a breath over your pussy, he watched as your dripping hole clenched around nothing, his cock also reacting to it. Giving up on his patience, Taehyung licked a bold stripe on your pussy, adoring the sweet sounds that flowed out from your lips. He licked a couple of bold stripes letting the both of you enjoy the moment. He gently sucked on your swollen bud and gave it a small kiss before getting back to where he was laying down previously. You whined as he pulled away, rubbing your thighs together to relieve yourself.
"Patience princess, I got you." Taehyung's fingers moved back to your pussy slick with his saliva and your arousal. He made sure his fingers collected your arousal before easing two of his fingers in your clenching hole. You bit your bottom lip to stop your moans as he pumped in his fingers in you a couple of times before pulling them out.
A lustful gaze present on his face as he brought his fingers to your nipples and spread out your arousal on them. Once he felt satisfied, he brought his fingers back down to your needy core as he fanned his breath over your wet nipple. The sensation once more bringing chills over your body. Loving the effect he had on you, he prodded his tongue out to toy with your nipple. The tip of his tongue traced circles around your areola, purposely avoiding your perked bud as you let out whines. When you clenched on his fingers, he decided he had his fun already sucked on your neglected nipple.
Not able to keep your sounds in anymore, you let out moans of his name as you reached your high. The pleasing sensation of his mouth on your breasts and his attention on your clenching core brought a wave of light-headedness over you.
Taehyung helped you ride out your orgasm until your hips tried to move away from his fingers. Leaving one last lick on your swollen nipples, he pulled away from your body and kneeled right beside you. His cock was released from its constraints, standing tall and leaking precum. His fingers were propped into his mouth as he licked off your release, never shying away from the lustful eye contact. The look on his eyes told you that it was going to be a very pleasurable morning.
Jungkook
Your boyfriend has been working hard lately and you wanted to give him a reward. So here you were laying down on the red silk sheets.You decided to take your time and groom yourself, making sure your skin was as smooth as can be. Jungkook did not mind at all but you wanted to look pretty for him.
In between many sets of lingerie that he has bought for you, you decided to wear his favorite set, a black sheer babydoll with a matching set of panties. He always told you he adored everything you wore but that set was definitely his favorite because it complimented your round breasts so well.
Standing right in front of the mirror, you fixed until it looked decent enough. With your phone in hand, you sat on the edge of the silk covered bed and snapped a satisfying picture to your boyfriend. Once you hit send, you let your body rest against the silk sheets knowing Jungkook would be on his way home as soon as he opened your message.
You let your eyes close for a bit as you patiently waited for his message. After a few minutes passed, you checked your phone for Jungkook's message only to be met with a read check mark a minute after you sent it. As you sat up on the bed, you heard the front door open and close. You heard heavy footsteps coming up to the room and your heart was pounding harshly against your chest as you waited for the bedroom door to open.
When the bedroom door finally opened, Jungkook came into view. His hair was slightly damp from possibly practicing his best as always. The look on his face and the stance of his body caused a wave of arousal flow through your body. There he was standing in front of the bedroom door, his hand on his hardened cock as he took in the sight of you on the mattress. His lips swiped across his bottom lip as his eyes drank in the sight of you. The way your round breasts deliciously filled up the babydoll, your nipples very noticeable on the sheer babydoll, and your thighs rubbing against each together to relieve your arousal was enough to get Jungkook to speak.
"Look at you baby, so beautiful and ready for me." He discarded his clothes as he walked to you. Your eyes on his body, you whimpered at the sight of his hard cock freed of his boxers. Chuckling at your reaction, he rested his body against the bed frame and you followed along with him.
"Come here baby, sit on my lap." Nodding, you carefully sat on top of him. You both let out a slight moan as your slick panties made contact with his bare cock. Jungkook's hands moved to your hips and helped you grind on his cock. Once he felt like you got the hang of it, he removed his hands from your hips and placed them on your round breasts.
"So pretty for me." He whispered lowly as his hands fondled with your nipples over the sheer fabric. Jungkook pulled down your babydoll to let your breasts free. Not wasting anymore time, he pulled one of your nipples into his mouth and started placing open mouthed kisses on it. One of his hands moved to roll your perked bud with his fingers and the other hand moved back to your hips to bring you closer to your body.
"Jungkook, I need you." Your arms moved on his shoulders as you rolled your hips harder against him. Nodding his head at you, his hands moved to move your dampened panties to the side and slid his thick cock into your inviting heat. Sighs of relief left your lips and you started to ride him. You brought him in for a passionate kiss in hopes that he felt every ounce of your love for him. You rode him in the way that he loved, bringing both of you to your highs faster than usual. You can see by the look on his eyes that he felt all the love you gave him.
"I love you too baby."
#maknae line smut#maknae line#maknae line reactions#bts smut#bts fluff#park jimin x reader#park jimin smut#jimin smut#jimin smut reaction#kim taehyung x reader#kim taehyung smut#taehyung smut#taehyung smut reaction#jeon jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook smut#jungkook smut#park jimin x reader smut#kim taehyung x reader smut#jeon jungkook x reader smut#jimin x reader#taehyung x reader#jungkook reader#bts smut reactions
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“Stay tonight.”
pairing | yoongi x reader
summary | a few months after your break up, yoongi stumbles upon you while you’re drunk
genre/warnings | fluff + what some people might consider a teeny tiny bit of angst + established relationship
words | 3,325
note | i’m so bad at requests. i read “yoongi stumbling upon her while she’s drunk” and had an idea… probably 100% different than what the anon had in mind but what can i do (full request at the end if you’re curious!)
There is something oddly familiar about the melody Yoongi hears. He stops mid-step with his car keys in hand to pay attention to it – brows furrowing in deep concentration, eyes lost in the middle of nowhere, jaw hanging slightly ajar as he focuses on the notes.
You see, there are a lot of things that can drive a musician crazy. One of them is knowing for sure you have listened to a melody before, but not being able to remember where it is from. Recognize it. Say its name and who sings it with precision.
In Yoongi’s defense, the origin of the sound isn’t the most accurate. It seems like someone is whistling to it, humming along at times, whispering a few words every now and then – making it hard to put the pieces together. That shouldn’t be an excuse, he knows it, and winces when he finds himself close to walking around the corner to ask the person what is the name of the song or else he won’t be able to sleep tonight.
That’s exactly when it clicks in his head. It’s that song.
Yoongi lets out an exasperated breath as he finally recognizes it. Maybe he’s becoming too slow at this game or maybe his brain made an extra effort to keep this song hidden in the farthest shelf of his mind’s music index. Of course he remembers it now – you spent two whole months of your life listening to it on repeat, making sure Yoongi also listened and cherished it with you when you were physically together and talking about how brilliantly composed it was when you were not.
Don’t get me wrong, he liked the song. But you adored it so much he started to wonder if you weren’t falling for the guy singing it. You know, it could happen… Right?
As soon as the moment is over, Yoongi shakes his head slightly to get rid of those thoughts as best as he can. They can’t ever truly leave and he knows that, but he just needs them to go back to that far place again – right where he keeps the ones that once made him happy and are still in the process of not hurting anymore. He takes quick steps, ready to get behind the wheel and leave the empty street when the source of the lazily sung melody makes a turn around the corner.
When Yoongi casually looks up, he doesn’t expect so many of those neatly filed memories to come back, but they do with the same force gravity keeps us grounded. More than recognizing the song, he should’ve recognized your voice. How could he not have in a split second? His ears have truly failed him.
The first thing Yoongi notices is that you must be cold. It’s a little chilly for this time of year, but you’re wearing a dress that leaves most of your legs bare and exposed to the midnight wind and there’s only a thin sweater covering your back – way too light for his liking. His initial instinct is to take off his jacket and run to carefully place it around your shoulders, but then it hits him that it’s not like that anymore. You’re not like that anymore.
Oh, well.
It doesn’t really matter because only a second later Yoongi is willing to risk it all and throw his dignity out the window when he sees you stumble, losing your balance for a moment before giggling lightly and moving on only to trip on your own feet again. He can’t see your face now, but can totally picture the pout appearing on your lips.
She’s drunk, he thinks. She’s drunk and alone at this hour and right here in front of me for some reason.
Where the hell is she going?
Yoongi really isn’t the type to make reckless decisions, but he’s quick to convince himself this isn’t reckless at all. In this moment, he doesn’t mind the fact that you two are not together anymore – and haven’t been for a while now. He’d do that for anyone he cares about.
And he would be an idiot to think he doesn’t care about you anymore.
Next thing Yoongi knows, his brain is ordering his legs to take long strides in your direction. He’s not rushing because he’s nervous or excited, but truly because seeing you like this doesn’t sit right with him. Yoongi is in the middle of taking off his jacket when you lose your balance again and his feet are suddenly moving faster.
“Hey.”
What Yoongi says doesn’t really come out as a greeting, but more like the way you call out someone for stealing the last cookie from the jar – only a little bit lower in tone. You turn around slowly, lazily, and not at all affected by the fact your ex is holding out his jacket in your direction in the middle of the street. It takes a few moments, but you finally open your mouth to say something.
“I already told you to stop calling me. Are you following me around now?”
Yoongi is surprised by your unbothered tone, but most of all by your slurred words. His brows are once again furrowed, trying to understand what exactly you mean by them while taking a few hesitant steps forward to finally be able to cover your shoulders with his jacket.
“Aren’t you cold?” He asks, deciding to ignore your previous remark for now. When you shrug, Yoongi raises his jacket with his hands to cover your back and takes a deep breath. Now this situation is fixed, he can go back to the other one. “What do you mean by stop calling you? I haven’t called in forever.”
You freeze. For the first time tonight, you raise your head to meet his eyes and, if you were in any other state, you’d be able to see the worry in his dark brown ones. Unfortunately for you, your vision is too blurry for that – the alcohol concentration so high your brain is having a hard time telling reality apart from your dreams.
“Oh, you haven’t?” You ask rhetorically, trying to look unfazed. “I must have… Mistaken you for someone else.”
Yoongi squeezes his eyes, not completely convinced, but decides to move on. “Where are you going? Do you want a ride?”
“No!” Your answer comes out too quickly and frantically for Yoongi, but he’s more worried about how your next words are even more unclear than before. “I don’t need a ride, I’m good.”
“Are you sure?” Yoongi is, once again, unconvinced. “I can give you a ride home, I don’t think…”
“I’m just taking the bus.”
You try, but fail to raise your hand to wave him off, the movement just as imprecise as the words leaving your mouth. Yoongi sighs, taking another deep breath and holding back from getting closer to hold and support you – it really seems like your knees are just about to surrender, even more when you turn your body away from his, stubbornly attempting to take steps forward.
“Let me…” Yoongi starts, but his words falter as well. He knows this isn’t good for him, knows this isn’t going to make things easier, but he just needs to. “Let me take you home. Please. I can’t let you go alone like this.”
Those words hurt – they shouldn’t anymore, but they do even in your intoxicated state. You close your eyes tightly, lowering your head and desperately trying to organize your thoughts. You have wished for this to happen so many times before, but now you’re not so sure anymore. Isn’t this just going to reopen that damned wound?
You turn around to face him again. Your words are supposed to come out dry and indifferent, but instead drip with love and care. “You shouldn’t.”
“I know, but I’m doing it anyway.”
With that, Yoongi extends his hand and you reluctantly take it. His left hand is cold, but firmly intertwines with yours and you immediately feel protected the way you did before – like Yoongi would cross deserts and fires and seas for you. You know there’s no going back now. The wound is suddenly opened again, but you feel oddly fine with this as a warmth spreads inside – something you haven’t experienced in a long while.
Yoongi is taking extra careful and slow steps, supporting you without getting too close. The struggle to walk is still there, but you’re not stumbling as much with him by your side. As soon as you’re close to the car, Yoongi is opening the door for you and calmly asking if you can put on your seatbelt on your own, to which you nod silently. Then, he gently closes the door, walking around the car to the driver’s side.
“Please drink this,” Yoongi says once he’s inside, offering a water bottle out of seemingly nowhere while his other hand is quickly turning on the A/C to make the interior warmer for you. You do as you’re told, attempting to open the plastic bottle for a few seconds before Yoongi puts his hand on top of yours to help. “Here. There you go.”
You raise the bottle to your lips to take a sip and can’t help watching his actions carefully. Yoongi is as calm, gentle and collected as ever as he turns the wheel and releases the break, suddenly looking at you to check if you were done drinking before accelerating. With your head resting on the seat, you feel yourself let go of the constraints of not being together anymore. This is too much, too normal, so you and him that being completely captivated by him is simply unavoidable.
“You’re not making it easy for me,” you start softly, letting out a short laugh. Yoongi doesn’t turn to you when you first speak, but does the second time around. “I tried so hard to move on, so hard… And right now I can’t even remember why we broke up.”
Yoongi has a small half-smile on his lips when he speaks. “You can’t remember because you’re drunk, but I remember it clearly.”
“You don’t get it,” you say, shaking your head from side to side. “I mean I don’t care why we broke up. Life with you was never easy, but I knew it wouldn’t be from the start. I knew it. I guess I was just tired.”
You pause to take another sip from the bottle and Yoongi remains silent, absorbing the meaning behind your words. The worst part is that he knows life with him is not easy at all and it breaks his heart to hear it from you even if he is aware of it. There’s something about it that makes it seem more real than ever.
“I know you also get tired of it sometimes,” you continue, voice becoming slightly clearer as the water washes your throat. “But you love it too much. I guess I loved you too much as well.”
“You’re speaking in past tense.”
“You’re right.” You nod, taking another big gulp of water before speaking again. “I love you too much. Present tense. I haven’t stopped loving you, do you think I ever will?”
That’s not really what Yoongi meant, but he’ll take anything. He smiles to himself as he stops the car at a red light, wanting to say something, but not quite figuring out the right words.
“You think too much before speaking sometimes,” you mention, way too used to this behavior coming from him. “Just say it. I can take it.”
“You’re drunk, you won’t remember anything.”
“I actually think I will but, if I don’t, that’s even more reason for you to say whatever you want.”
Yoongi wets his lips, wondering if he’s actually ready to speak his mind so openly – and in front of the person that matters the most in this case. “What if I told you I want you to remember?”
“Well, then what do you have to lose?”
The car is silent for a while and Yoongi takes advantage of the fact the traffic lights turn green to drop the subject completely. He doesn’t dare to speak another word and you’re okay with the silence – it isn’t uneasy or anything like that, but almost as if you’re just coming back from dinner somewhere or Yoongi is driving you back home after a lazy Sunday. It’s normal again. It’s us again like it hasn’t been in months.
By the time Yoongi parks in front of your place, you have finished the rest of the water bottle and your body has metabolized enough alcohol for you to be mindful not to leave the empty bottle behind, but take it with you to throw it away. You’re also not tipsy anymore and able to step out of the car on your own despite Yoongi being fast to catch up and help you close the door behind you.
But that also means you’re now awfully aware of everything. Yoongi doesn’t ask for permission to follow you inside and you’re not inviting him in either, but you prefer it like this – it saves you both from awkward questions you don’t think either of you have answers for at this point. You’re determined to just let things flow however they want as long as they feel natural and comfortable to you.
And they do. Yoongi remembers the passcode to open the main door, he remembers how stupidly placed the light sensor is and how you must wave your hand to the left when the stairs are to the right, and you bet he even remembers how many steps there are until the first floor of the building. When you’re in front of your door, he tentatively places his thumb on the fingerprint scanner just to check if you have deleted his info – which you haven’t. There’s a smug smile on his face when the door beeps and opens that you don’t want to acknowledge, instead choosing to move inside and sit to take off your shoes.
Again, this feels way too normal.
Yoongi is the first to walk again, moving his socketed feet in the direction of your tiny kitchen. He stops to check up on you for a second – just enough for you to catch his kind eyes – before diverting his gaze again. You know he wants to say something and it’s almost slipping away.
Meanwhile, Yoongi’s desperately trying to find something to talk about and is happy to find a mess of opened books and notes on top of the kitchen table. He’d ask anything not to touch on a certain subject.
“How’s Law School going?”
“You didn’t just get in and removed your shoes to ask me about Law School, did you?”
Shit.
Yoongi’s right hand flies to scratch the back of his head. You notice this is the first time he shows any sign of nervousness and have to fight the urge to get closer to bring his arm down and tell him he doesn’t have to feel like this.
Actually, why fight it?
“Stop this,” you plead, taking a few steps to get closer and pull his arm down by the elbow. “Tell me what you wanted to say when we were in the car. I told you I can take it.”
Yoongi gulps, mouth suddenly too dry to speak. He wants to say something, he really does, but there’s no way he can find the right words under pressure.
“I…” He tries, tongue wetting his lips to buy some time. “I know life with me isn’t easy, but do you think it’s more bearable than this? Because I don’t think I can go on much longer.”
You turn your head slightly and open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out immediately. It takes you a few seconds to understand and process what Yoongi says and it pains you a little to know you don’t have a definite answer to that. Not yet.
Instead, you raise your head for your lips to reach his cheeks. Yoongi lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, soon closing his eyes to enjoy your touch again. It’s like a cup of warm tea in the winter, like waking up thinking it’s Monday only to realize it’s actually Sunday, like finishing a song knowing you did everything you could to make it perfect.
Like coming home.
You don’t separate when your lips leave his skin. Rather than facing him and his honey eyes, you bury your face in his neck, breathing him in while your hands encircle his body and rest on his lower back. Yoongi does the same, holding you as close and he can.
“Stay tonight.”
Your words come as a surprise to him. Yoongi expected you to somewhat kindly reject him, asking him to go because it hurts too much or – best case scenario – to take things slow for now. He expected you to treat his feelings gently, to maybe assure him you’d try your best for things to work a second time around, but definitely not this. He sighs contently.
“Okay.”
You only remove your hands from his back to take his own, moving slowly in the direction of your room and mumbling something about how Yoongi can wear one of the t-shirts you have not returned on purpose with a shy smile. Once in the bedroom, changing into something comfortable to sleep so unceremoniously in front of each other also kind of surprises Yoongi, but he’s happy to know you still feel like you don’t have to hide anything from him.
You take your time removing your makeup and brushing your teeth as Yoongi waits for you after washing his face. He’s leaning on the door frame with crossed arms, seemingly annoyed, but his face tells a different story – his eyes are shining bright although looking a bit tired and there’s the smallest of smiles on his face as he watches you intently as if you were his whole world.
Everything falls into place so effortlessly you’re both wondering if this is just a dream or if it’s actually real. Luckily, for the both of you, even though it feels like something that could only happen in a world of fantasy, there is nothing more sincere and true than this.
It’s not until you’re both tucked in bed that you feel like speaking again – and like you have to do it soon before falling asleep. You’re not really touching, but close enough for Yoongi to easily catch one of your hands in his and bring it close to his chest. His heartbeat is quick despite his calm expression and you raise your eyes to meet his just as Yoongi starts in his typical low register.
“Can I ask you something?” You blink and nod twice, not having enough energy in you to do much else. “Do you mind if I kiss you right now? I feel like I’m going to explode.”
You can’t help the shy smile on your lips. You know Yoongi is not the one to make this sort of remark and it makes your heart swell to think how he must be feeling to be bold enough to say it.
You nod yet again, but he’s not completely satisfied.
“Please say it so I can hear it.”
You let a short laugh escape your lips before whispering the words Yoongi so desperately wants to hear. “Yes, you can kiss me.”
Yoongi doesn’t rush even though there’s nothing else in the world he craves more than you. He takes his time, delicately settling a hand on your face while his opposite arm supports his weight. Your chest is now almost completely covered by his and you feel a warmth spread like wildfire as his soft lips touch yours.
And, just like that, you’re convinced he’s not leaving again any time soon.
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request | Hiiii I’d like to request for yoongi x reader who is in law graduate studies Abroad and yoongi stumbling upon her while shes drunk, and when he was talking a break from idol life. Pls huhu i love your writing btw ILY
note 2 | did you notice i 100% got carried away with this? i mean 3k words is a lot for my standards lol i hope you’re ok with what came out of it. thank you for reading! stay safe xx
#i'm actually kinda proud of this one#min yoongi#yoongi imagine#yoongi x y/n#yoongi x you#min yoongi fluff#yoongi fluff#bts fluff#bts imagines#yoongi scenarios#yoongi fanfic#yoongi x reader#requested
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half-silvered
— With all the time that has passed since your endless fleeing began, some part of you seems to have forgotten that you are running away from actual people and that there is an actual possibility that they might catch up to you.
pairing. kwon soonyoung / reader
genre. space pirate au, exes au, sci-fi au, romance, angst
word count. 4k
warnings. brief violence
notes. part of @merakiiverse‘s collab! happy holidays, honeys.
-
Your heartbeat is steady. And unsettlingly silent.
The darkness stretching from wall to wall, blanketing the rooms and corridors in a thick black only interrupted by the round stream of your flashlight which creates distorted shadows before you, does not make your blood pump faster anymore. A thrill you faintly remember from past times in this career is but a stale taste in the back of your throat now, its tang long since eroded.
Skimming over the numbers on each crate with heavy-lidded eyes as you proceed, your free hand digs in the pocket of your coat to retrieve a small list. You cannot bother to count the rooms you pass until you find the box with a code matching the one on your piece of paper, dismissing any distant thud that might reach your ear. Even the thought of one of the thugs you passed on the street before entering the warehouse following you inside, does not alarm you. You trust it would be different if a thirty-seven thousand credit blaster - stolen, naturally - wasn’t fastened to your utility belt, but you cannot be sure anymore.
You shove the end of your flashlight in your mouth as you crouch before the targeted crate and pull out your cloaked mobile to hack the heavy lock sealing the lid shut - a fruitless attempt at keeping your kind out. And with nothing but a few taps and a few beeps more, the lock slides open.
The list feels amateur to you despite its ambition; two whole pairs of di-blasters, no less than three Caratian batteries and one weighty pouch of crystal powder. You're aware that this used to be exhilarating, the thousands of credits worth of cargo you are currently tucking in your backpack - multiplied with a one point two by your buyer. However. You suppress a yawn as you check the list again, before closing the crate with a loud boom.
And wandering back the way you came is just as uneventful as you remember it.
Until you hear a door shut somewhere behind you, not far away.
Instinct is what swings you around, arm steady with experience as you shine your light forth and around, other hand ready on the handle of your blaster. You see nothing but shelves and crates and more crates as your light scans the room, penetrating its dense shadow. Your heartbeat is picking up, but shyly so, your breathing yet even.
Silence. Similar to the one that often creeps inside your skull and lays its eggs of isolation and loneliness in your dreams when you try to sleep during some nights. You gulp, slowly releasing the grip on your blaster.
So you turn back around, quietly and carefully-
A face.
Halted breath.
Soonyoung?
Everything burns, lightning setting fire to the bones beneath your skin and squeezing your lungs of their air and-
...
A piercing headache is what coaxes your consciousness, eyes yet closed. Piercing, as though you are being slammed in the head with the handle of a blaster over and over, the resulting groan that crawls its way out of your chest almost causing you to jump in surprise. Attempting to pry your eyelids open only seems to worsen the incessant pounding, so you let them remain shut, slowly realizing that you are slouched on the ground, back leaned against a wall of some sort. You move to push yourself forward.
But your wrists are tied behind you.
It hurts when your breath hitches.
You force your eyes open then, despite it seemingly grasping your brain and ripping it apart, the instinct to survive activating and tingling within your muscles.
A disorienting blur is all you see through your squinting, a distant canvas of blacks and greys and biting lights. You think a monotone whirr surrounds you but cannot be sure if its a figment of mere imagination through the painful pounding in your ears.
As your vision slowly steadies and your heartbeat’s speed increases, you see that someone sits before you. A face. When your eyes close, Soonyoung’s face flashes across the insides of your lids and you feel fluster burning beneath your cheeks, remembering. Soonyoung?
With a sharp sting, you blink and blink away the dim coating your pupils. It isn’t Soonyoung.
“Ji- ugh... Ji-...” Jihoon, your sore throat won’t let you say.
Jihoon?
His glare is pointed, willing everything in its way to turn to stone. Just like how it used to be. But filled with more hatred, directed at you now. And you can barely comprehend that it is really him.
The inside of a ship surrounds you when you look around, a grey and matte metal, various large crates - one of which Jihoon is seated upon - rucksacks and blasters and canisters and multicolored lights crowding the space. It is bigger than the ship of theirs from your memories.
Jihoon’s all but predatory gaze is still waiting when you return to it.
You try to clear your throat, wincing at the painful pounding that follows and echoes between the walls of your skull. Fingertips tingling, you remember being knocked out, in the warehouse. The fiery burn. Electricity.
“Ji-” you begin, voice raspy but Jihoon stands with a sigh and walks away, out through a doorway and presumably into another room.
You are left stunned, feeling abandoned, body aching. The chill he meets you with after all these years, without even as much as a word, squeezes around your heart in a most discomforting way, despite being expected. Despite him clearly having a hand in your current physical state.
But you ignore that pain and will your eyes to scan your surroundings, your instinct to survive muted but present, searching for any way to escape and run.
With as much power as you can muster in your unwell state and vulnerable position, you jerk your wrists against the cuffs tying your hands together. An electronic lock, you guess, definitely attached to the wall somehow. Inconvenient...
You swallow around slimy saliva, throat so dry it almost feels like sand on its way down. And Soonyoung’s face flashes behind your eyelids when you blink again.
Your eyes are fixed on the doorway now, somehow sensing exactly who will soon enter, rhythmic thuds of footsteps approaching.
But expecting his appearance does naught to calm the heat his presence spreads throughout your body.
Soonyoung.
The same Soonyoung but with grimmer eyes, a stronger build and a missing smile.
Your throat squeezes, feeling as though your heart has jumped up and plugged it shut in an attempt to leave the painful constraints of your chest. Feelings you have tried to keep hidden for so long. Nails bite into your palms where your hands form tight fists behind you.
He walks with steady steps, sharp eyes narrow when they meet yours, Jihoon stopping to lean against the doorway while someone unfamiliar follows behind Soonyoung.
It hurts to breathe as heavily as you are now but you cannot stop.
Soonyoung stills before you to sit where Jihoon had, the stranger standing behind him scrutinizing you. But you don’t pay the latter much mind.
“Soonyoung...” you sigh, but an injured whisper, something salty burning distantly behind your eyes.
He watches you silently, eyebrows twitching slightly at the utterance of his name.
“Why-” you begin but stumble on a cough.
Soonyoung reaches inside his jacket and pulls out a small flask, unscrewing the lid and guiding it to your mouth, helping you drink. If he were anyone else, you would give the offer a second guess. But he’s Soonyoung.
Yet here you are, captive in his ship.
“You never were good at being taken by surprise...” His voice resonates within the deepest parts of your chest and you choke slightly on the water, fists tightening impossibly when his sentence his followed by your name. The familiar vibrations in your ears are too shocking and it somehow scares you, a feeling you do not experience much of.
Soonyoung retracts the flask and flashes you a strained smile, eyes remaining dull. “That’s why we made such a good team.”
A stab in the heart, is what that sentence feels like and you cannot help but shift your eyes to the floor, your dirty boots. Unearned, since you were the one holding the knife back then.
You test your voice with a careful hum, lifting your eyes to meet Soonyoung’s returned frown. “Wh- uhm... I- You electrocuted me... Didn’t you?”
He nods, something pained in his stare. Freezing compared to how Jihoon made you feel. “Yes.”
“Wh-” A cough. “Where’s my ship?”
“We’ve parked it in a private haven. It’s ours now.”
Your gaze shifts from Soonyoung to the stranger behind him, his expression inquisitive, then to Jihoon, glare heavy with unmistakable anger. A swallow tightens your throat.
“You- Why am I here?”
“We want credits,” Soonyoung says and you frown. “A desire you must be pretty familiar with...”
Your heartbeat freezes for a second and something stings somewhere behind your eyes again. There is venom in his voice that never used to be there before. But you are who poisoned him so the hurt you feel is unearned, you remind yourself.
“So, then just take-”
“We want credits,” Soonyoung repeats, interrupting you and resting his elbows on his thighs to lean closer. “... but not yours.”
When your eyes stray due to puzzlement they are only received by Jihoon’s still hateful glare, therefore returning to Soonyoung quickly. Even though his hostility hurts you more.
“Then... What will you do with me...?”
The man before you shrugs, head jerking when black strands of hair catch on his eyelashes. “Nothing much... We’re not gonna kill you or hurt you any more. But I can’t make such promises on the Chancellor’s behalf.”
Your jaw drops along with your heart, and probably your temperature too.
“You’ve pissed a lot of people off, y’know?” Soonyoung continues, leaning away. “The bounty on your head only keeps increasing, especially alive.”
“Y-... You’re fetching me for the Chancellor...” Your voice is significantly weaker now.
And it seems to reach Soonyoung differently, because the chill in his gaze turns glum, a poignance in the way he observes your deflating form on the floor of his ship. Which only seems to worsen the pain viciously clawing at your insides, like your body is only just realizing that it is really him. He found you, after so long. And he is sending you to your probable death.
“Soonyoung...”
He purses his lips, as if biting back an apology of some sorts that he knows you don’t deserve. A nod is all you get before he stands again.
“Jeonghan, upload the route and start the ship,” he commands, seemingly to the stranger behind him. Then he is gone through the doorway again, what remains of your heart merely left to soak in self-inflicted misery.
...
They decide to watch you for one shift each whilst you travel toward your pending doom, a wise decision considering your track record of escaping sticky situations. Coupled with the fact that you do not want to hurt either Soonyoung or Jihoon anyway, despite phantom heat still tingling throughout your limbs from the earlier electric shock and heavy handcuffs digging into your wrists.
Jeonghan, the stranger, is the first to watch you. He is surprisingly nice to you, offers you water and even bread, initiating small talk - something you cannot remember when you last did without an ulterior motive.
“So, you used to know Soonyoung and Jihoon, right?” he asks at one point with an encouraging smile, making you wonder how much he knows. The weight of the question rings quietly in your ears.
“Uhm, yes... Yes, I used to know them...”
When you say no more, despite Jeonghan’s patience, he clears his throat. “Did... you guys have a falling out?”
You scoff upon reflex. “Yeah, you could say that...”
Jeonghan squints. “What happened?”
A heaviness brews within Jeonghan’s eyes and suddenly you feel like he knows everything, like he is just asking to confirm what he has already been told. To decide if you really are the vile monster he thinks of you as.
The darkness of the cargo hold turns colder suddenly and you look away. “I’d rather not talk about it...” you squeak as your heart thuds painfully.
Jeonghan’s all but invasive stare fades and he changes the subject then.
...
The next shift is Jihoon’s and you have never felt as naked, vulnerable and guilty as you do under his burning glare.
He doesn’t utter one single word. Only sits in front of you and stares, seemingly trying to summon your death with nothing but one long look and a chilling quiet. And you are terribly surprised that it doesn’t work.
Not even sleep is worth attempting in Jihoon’s silence as when your lids fall shut Jihoon’s loathing expression is imprinted behind them, slowly morphing into Soonyoung’s instead. It only makes your heart jump and eyes itch, so you endure Jihoon’s invisible knives with an increasingly parched throat for the duration of his shift.
...
Despite how unsettling being watched by Jihoon proved to be, when it is Soonyoung’s turn you almost ask Jihoon to stay.
Your body has grown heavy with fatigue but your mind awakens painfully when Soonyoung approaches, bringing a tension so thick it makes you sweat with him. Therefore his first action of offering you water is appreciated. But the way there’s a permanent frown weighing at the corners of his mouth makes the water taste bitter.
You break the silence after moisturizing your vocal chords, speaking over the consistent beeping sounds in the background.
“I think Jihoon wants me dead,” seems like the only thing you can think of saying. Even though there are so many words boiling within your chest with Soonyoung’s name written all over them, you feel like you do not have the right to their utterances.
Soonyoung’s lips purse, slanted gaze serious. “You’re probably right.”
It hurts, though you have not earned that pain. Only caused it.
A quiet that lasts a forged eternity proceeds, until the tension turns deafening.
Soonyoung sighs, a slow hand combing through his hair. “Jihoon used to like you more than me, y’know? You were always his favorite...”
It really hurts.
“Until you fucked us over,” Soonyoung finishes.
Averting your eyes you swallow around slimy saliva, a cold knot twisting in the pit of your stomach. And there is a burn behind your eyelids you are afraid will boil over if you meet Soonyoung’s stare again. The cognizance of your weakness that washes over you and makes your hairs stand on end is unpleasant, mercilessly corroding the strong image you’ve built of yourself.
“You-you gave up everything we had for... money,” Soonyoung continues when you can’t, the weight of his tone increasing. “You left us, you left... me. You left me for fucking credits...” His voice wavers and it’s a dagger in your heart, a sting behind your eyes.
Your memory is as clear as if it had only just happened. Seeing the offer that had been sent to you. Considering and considering and considering, all those credits that could be yours if you just made the right choice. Lying sleepless next to Soonyoung that night, palm flat on his naked chest. Getting dressed quietly, leaving the ship with the emptiness of an unspoken goodbye in your stomach, one you convinced yourself wasn’t real. Giving away the ship’s location to the bidder, knowing the trouble it would bring your friend and your lover. How salty the countless credits tasted once yours. You still taste it now.
Though you cannot be sure of how long it takes for you to notice that you are crying, you find that your will to save face has run out. You break at last.
Ugly sobbing bounces between the metal walls of the ship, worsening with each breath as you keep remembering that you are not the one who should be crying. Your lungs burn painfully, Jihoon and Jeonghan surely waking upon your horrid weeping. It feels as though your heart is melting, running down your cheeks and dying as the droplets flatten across the floor. In only moments, you are reduced to nothing. Nothing but shame. And the man whose heart you battered witnesses it all.
Eventually, there are no more tears left to cry and silence thrives again, save for the rhythmic beeping.
“I’m sorry,” comes the apology that is long overdue, as raspy as it may be.
Soonyoung’s expression is blue, eyes glazed over with a sadness you only recognize now when yours are too. “It doesn’t matter,” he reminds you, though his tone is not as dismissive as the sentence it offers.
Your head shakes quickly, strands of hair sticking against your tacky cheeks. “I know it doesn’t. You’ve always been a man of your word Soonyoung, and you will turn me in no matter what I say now...” you concede and Soonyoung’s shoulders slump. “I’m sorry, I’m really sorry. I-I-I was greedy and selfish and only cared about credits, about feeling strong and independent and invincible-... Or so I thought. Or wanted to, I-... I cared about you two...” Your throat tightens, but you force your words out anyway. “I loved you Soonyoung and I- It wasn’t fake, I was never lying, I just-... I wanted to feel like I didn’t need you... And there will never be a time when I won’t regret what I did...”
Tears descend the expanse of your face again, but silently this time. And Soonyoung’s stare is filled with something warmer now, despite his steadfast sorrow. And you can only think about the hugs you left behind, the kisses, the smiles, the laughs.
“You’re an idiot.”
Your chest jumps at the new voice, blurry stare shooting to where Jihoon is leaned against the doorway again. He sounds the same after three years. And some of the hatred in his glare has faded now.
You nod carefully, lip shaking. “I know.”
Soonyoung’s eyes remain steadily on you.
From where your limbs are slumped in a dead pile against the wall, they stiffen abruptly when there’s a sudden hand on your cheek and your attention jumps to Soonyoung again. He wipes your tears with gentle touches, warm thumb soft across your skin. Nails tickle your cheekbone lightly as he moves to tuck some stray strands of hair behind your ear. Your heart must be shuddering.
“I missed you for a long time,” he tells you, pupils tracing the shapes of your features along with his finger. “And then hated you for even longer.”
Your lips purse, sour accord pooling in your eyes, his touch leaving a trail of pleasant tingles. “I hate myself too, and it’s due time I get served my share of consequences.”
Soonyoung’s lids become heavier and his gaze darkens. “You should get some sleep now,” he mutters.
And the temperatures within and around you drop when his hand leaves your face.
...
Despite Soonyoung’s request and your extreme fatigue, sleep did not come easily that night. Likely due to the knowledge of your approaching punishment - though it is hard for you to imagine feeling any worse than you already do.
The guilt that you postponed for the past years weighs uncomfortably on your shoulders as you now stand by the still sealed ramp, and so do the electronic cuffs around your wrists along with the hanging shadows beneath your eyes. A sickness is brewing in your stomach, made up of shame and hunger, but you somehow like it in the same way that you deserve it.
You can sense Soonyoung’s presence behind you as much as you can hear it by his footsteps, and turn around slowly. Jihoon and Jeonghan stand idly in the background, also awaiting your departure. Though there is seemingly something sour in the curl of Jihoon’s brow, and something hesitant in the stiffness of Jeonghan’s lip.
But undoubtedly, the grim matte of Soonyoung’s eye is worst of all.
His face hasn’t been this close in years and the longing ache his proximity offers feels as undeserved as his frown. You threw him away and he is still the victim, despite the handcuffs trapping you. Soonyoung is still the good one.
“It’s time,” he says, voice steady and breath fanning your face. He really is close.
You nod, "it’s time.” And the silence that has plagued your chest for too long only deepens then, cold within the confines of your ribs.
A smile is what the grimace you present is meant to be, eyes piercing his own, desperately trying to remember his exact shade of brown and the charming tilt encasing it. What you fell for, what you betrayed and what put you in your place. This is right, as much as it hurts and as dead as it renders your barely beating heart. The goodbye you have earned.
But a fire is rising in Soonyoung’s gaze, even though it’s not supposed to.
And then he is grabbing your face, gloved palms flat against your cheeks, and kissing you. His lips are soft and plump, his pace is hard and reckless, his taste is warm and familiar and your whole body is frozen. Until your heart bursts with something so loud it feels like it hasn’t made a single sound in forever.
Coming to half your senses, you kiss Soonyoung back with as much fervor as you can manage, tied hands tingling with an insatiable desire to touch him and hold him closer. As if hearing your silent plea, he pulls you in, leaving no air to breathe between you. You distantly imagine Jihoon’s head turning away and Jeonghan’s unreadable expression but cannot find the will to care.
Soonyoung pulls away far too soon and his serious yet heavy-lidded gaze pierces you still.
“Listen to me,” he starts, chest heaving in time with yours, grip meaningful on your shoulders. “Get out of there as quickly as you can, and come find me.”
Your whole body is shaking under the impact of your heartbeat.
“Understand?” Soonyoung’s brows shoot upward.
The demand is unrealistic. You have not heard of anyone escaping the captivity of the Chancellor and know that the odds are positively against you, no matter how skilled you might be. Your death is surely ready to welcome you with open arms, as soon as the ramp is lowered.
Yet, you nod. Knees quivering.
Faintly, you register something beeping.
“Soonyoung,” Jeonghan calls.
You don’t know what to make of the man’s expression when you turn to look, nor Jihoon’s.
Soonyoung’s whisper of your name brings your bug-eyed stare back to him. Those deep brown, fiery eyes.
You nod again.
He sighs, carefully.
Then steps away to push the button that opens the ramp.
Cold winds rush inside the ship and tousle your hair, worsening the shaking in your limbs. But all you feel is rhythmic exhilaration pumping from your heart.
You turn around, met with the sight of the Chancellor’s guards standing in the midst of a snowstorm, waiting for you. Nearly stumbling while descending the ramp’s tilt, the guards grab you and begin searching you immediately, while one of them relays a message to Soonyoung that you can’t seem to hear.
Your neck twists, eyes looking up and meeting Soonyoung’s from where he stands at the top of the ramp. Something in your chest is screaming and it’s deafening.
With guards’ hands patting you down, Soonyoung smiles and his eyes do too. And you are immediately infected, mirroring his expression instinctively, aware of how little you deserve him. In the chilling temperatures of this weather, your blood is warm. Soonyoung presses the button.
When the ramp seals shut, you are left knowing that Soonyoung will be there and he is left wondering if you will ever come.
#caratwritersclub#svtsource#seventeen imagines#hoshi imagines#soonyoung imagines#seventeen scenarios#hoshi scenarios#soonyoung scenarios#seventeen x reader#hoshi x reader#soonyoung x reader#seventeen angst#hoshi angst#soonyoung angst
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Homesick (Miya Atsumu x f!Reader) | 008. healing
Summary: Six years ago, L/N Y/N wouldn’t exactly say that she loves her life. It had always been problematic but her best friend, Miya Atsumu, since she was eight when she moved to Hyōgo, has always been there for her, and she wouldn’t change it for the world. However, things would always fall apart for her ever since, so she should have expected of such. Running away from her problems seemed like the easiest route to take at the time, so what happens when the past comes barging back into her life demanding answers? Will she be able to confront her demons?
Pairings: Miya Atsumu x f!Reader
Updates: irregular.
Genre: Angst, ANGST I LOVE ANGST, a lil bit of fluff here and there.
Warnings: Language, etc.
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters except for the reader and my ideas. I do not claim any images used for content in this fic, everything goes out to their respective creators unless it is mentioned that it is mine.
Status: completed. | series masterlist
↩ chapter seven bonus | healing | at peace ↪
mia speaks:
We’re getting real close to the end, and I don’t think I’ll be ready to part with Atsumu just yet. But I’m super duper excited to start Stubborn.
If it isn’t too much, please leave a little COMMENT on what you think of this piece or REBLOG if you like it! Thank you.
Rejection can be defined as an act of pushing someone or something away. It is also considered as something to be experienced on a large scale or small ways in everyday life. In the field of mental health care, rejection most frequently refers to the feelings of sadness, or grief people feel when they are not accepted by others.
In Atsumu’s case, it was the latter.
The moment he had decided to leave the party to seek you out, he was more or less, on edge. The fear of rejection was eating him out as he traveled back to Kanagawa, and even then as he stared at the hospital door that leads to Atsuhiro’s room where he assumes you’re most likely already in deep slumber from how late it is. However, that doesn’t stop him from his mission, eventually finding the courage to press his knuckles against the door to knock.
A minute passed and there was still no answer, a part of him decided it was best to leave, so you can rest but wanting to give it another chance, he knocks on the door once more. The lack of response disappoints him but he diminishes it with a little light of hope, telling himself that you’re probably asleep and it was best to try later. As he was about to leave, the hospital door slides open and his gaze lands on your exhausted, surprised, features.
He stares at you in adoration and before he could stop himself, the words slip out of his lips. "I love you."
Silence engulfs the two of you comfortably, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. He wonders if his beating heart was loud enough for you to hear through the silence. He watches in anticipation how your features shift from confusion to something he couldn't quite recognize. For a second, he berates himself for blurting out such foolishness.
Was it horror? Pity? He couldn't possibly comprehend with his nerves on overdrive, about a handful of thoughts swimming in his mind. If only he knew your heart was beating against its constraints just as fast as his, or that you wanted to throw your arms around him and finally claim him as yours at that very moment. He calls out your name in a stutter to pull you out of your shocked trance, fighting his urge to step through the threshold and pull you into his arms. He holds back the words clawing their way out of his mouth, not wanting to overwhelm you with his sudden burst of emotions. But mostly because he was afraid.
Afraid of humiliation, and of rejection. He was afraid that his feelings for you were no longer reciprocated. Though, he wouldn't blame you. He would understand if he was too late. It had been six years after all, and you, out of the both of you, deserve way better than this. Better than him.
However, a part of him wishes it were otherwise. He recalls the night he summoned the tiniest spark of courage to capture your lips with his own once more after so long. He doesn't regret his actions, because he realized things that night as your own lips move against his own. It was as if the missing puzzle piece had been rummaged through the piles of chaotic emotions and finally found its rightful place.
It just felt right.
If it weren’t for the ridiculous hounds of reporters that interrupted the night, he may have used that opportunity to win you over or at least have a proper talk with you since obviously there are still a lot of unfinished business between the two of you that need fixing for the sake of Atsuhiko and Atsuhiro.
“What are you doing here?” he hears you question, snapping out of his own thoughts, his shoulders growing tense.
He slips his hands into the pockets of his coat, wanting to hide his trembling fingers from your sight. “I know I should have reached out sooner, and there isn’t any way I could possibly excuse myself out of that. I’ve probably left you wondering again, and that’s the last thing I want.”
“It’s the middle of the night, Atsumu.” you mutter underneath your breath, brows furrowing. “What were you doing up anyways?”
He lifts his shoulders up into a timid shrug, “I was at a party. I couldn’t get you out of my head, so I went straight here. I know it’s late and I should have waited but it’s been days since we last spoke and I couldn’t take it anymore. I—I needed to see you.”
“I don’t know what to say…” you release a heavy sigh, shifting your gaze away from him as you feel your cheeks heat up from God knows what. Embarrassment? Flattery? God, you could only curse at yourself for feeling that way ever since the two of you shared that kiss.
The corners of his mouth tug up to a small smile, “You don’t have to say anything, just hear me out.” As you give him a nod after lifting your head to meet his gaze once more, he’s hit with a sudden rush of confidence, wondering if this was finally his chance to spill the feelings that had been occupying his thoughts since the two of you reunited.
It was a mixture of anger and hate the moment he had realized it was you, that was for sure, he’d been frustrated but the one thing that’s been bothering him was the thought of you disappearing again. This time, taking the kids, his sons that he had grown to adore, away from him. The very thought had been enough for him to lower his pride, and a good push from his twin brother. His brother’s words replaying his head.
‘Quit your moping and win her over before I do.’
“I love you,” he repeats his earlier words; this time with confidence, arms extending out to reach out for your hands which somehow, surprisingly for the both of you, you oblige, letting his fingers lace with yours. “I’ve loved you as my best friend the very moment when we were kids when you laughed at me for tripping and having the ice cream slip from my hands and landing on our grumpy neighbor’s bald head. I think a part of me started loving you there and then when you pulled me up from the ground and dragged me laughing away to avoid us getting into trouble.” You stifle a laugh, your eyes scrunching up in amusement at the memory and he couldn’t help but let a Cheshire grin form on his own lips at the sight of your happiness, feeling a sudden surge of happiness bubble in his own chest. There and then, he realized that he truly adored you and that he’s missed you. Missed this.
Missed the warmth that radiated from just your mere touch.
“I’ve loved you since we started high school and I know I had a really shitty way in showing that, being so absorbed in volleyball and everything, I don't think I ever deserved you then,” he lets out a sigh, “I never deserved your care. Despite me lashing out because of my own frustrations, you pulled me back into reality just as Osamu could and looking back now, I had been so blessed. And I…” he trails off, tearing his gaze away from yours in shame and his heart skips a beat at your gesture, squeezing his hands in a form of reassurance, “I took it for granted. I realized it too late and…”
He lets out a sob, lifting his head to meet yours once more and he lets the tears spill from the corners of his eyes. Slowly, he lowers himself down onto his knees and he watches your eyes widen as he gives your hands a squeeze of his own, “Let me prove it to you how sorry I am, please. I know I don’t deserve you, I don’t deserve to be a part of Atsuhiko and Atsuhiro’s liv—”
It almost seemed like time stood still for Atsumu as you drop down to your own knees in front of him, pulling your hands away from his grip, only for you to grip the fabric of his shirt beneath his coat between your fingers, pulling him closer to your body as you lower your head to rest your forehead on his shoulder. Despite the layering of clothes that protected his skin from the cold, he could feel the patch of wetness growing on his shoulder from the tears that flowed from your eyes. “I’m sorry, Atsumu. I’m sorry as well,” those words spill from your mouth, despite your words mixed with sobs and you trying to keep your voice to a whisper to not disturb the residence of the hospital on the floor, he could hear you loud and clear. “I’m sorry for being a coward. I’m sorry for leaving you when you needed me the most. I’m—” you cut yourself off with another sob.
The sight of your vulnerable state was enough for Atsumu’s heart to clench in its confinement and slowly, his arms snake around your hips to pull you closer to his body. The both of you release a sigh from the warmth. You continue, “You deserve to be loved, Atsumu. You really do. I’m sorry for what I’ve done. I’m sorry for depriving you of the chance to raise such wonderful sons. I—I’m sorry.”
The cold hospital floor didn’t even bother the two of you. The warmth radiating off of each other’s embrace was enough.
Home.
The blinding fluorescent lights almost stabs his eyes as he slowly flutters his eyelids open, a hiss escaping his lips from the sudden burst of light. He tries to shield his eyes from such torture by lifting his heavy arm only to let out a groan as a shriek echoes through the small room. Groggily, he turns his head towards the direction of the assault to his ears and blinks his eyelids a couple of times to adjust his sight.
He suddenly wishes he hadn’t woken up right at this moment.
As the blonde model notices Atsumu moving from his bed, her eyes widen in excitement at the sight of him awake, trying her best to push through his twin’s protective stance. “Tsumtsum! You’re awake and okay!” she squeals and he winces in response. Atsumu knows his brother well, and from the proximity from between the two by the door, despite his brother’s back facing him, he could tell from his mere posture that his twin had his usual scowl on his face when dealing with the women in his life. He watches from the bed as Yumi turns to face his twin, a scowl scrunching up in her features as she crosses her arms across her chest and stomps her feet. “Can you please tell your brother over here to let me through? I’m your girlfriend!” she huffs.
“Please pull your head out of your ass,” Osamu snaps and continues to hold Yumi back from entering his brother’s room. “You were never his girlfriend and I’m pretty sure he made it pretty clear that he doesn’t want anything to do with you a few nights ago. So why don’t you do the whole hospital a favor? Shut up and leave, because I’m pretty sure your excessive whining is disturbing the patients.”
Throughout Osamu’s annoyed speech, Atsumu had successfully pushed himself to sit on the bed without any assistance. He lets out a groan of pain and uses what little strength he has to press his back against the headboard of the hospital bed. Just as Yumi was about to retort, Atsumu calls for her attention from the bed. Yumi was quick to react, looking over at Atsumu. “Yes, baby?”
Osamu scrunches up his face in disgust and Atsumu can only let out a sigh, not having the energy to argue with her. “Please leave.”
The hopeful features that were splashed in her features disappear in a second at Atsumu’s command, “B—But…”
“Leave, I’m not in the mood to deal with you.” he sighs, tearing his gaze away from Yumi to look over at his brother who had turned his head to look at him over his shoulder, his eyes pleading Osamu to get rid of the irritating model from the premises, “And you’ll be hearing from my lawyer regarding a restraining order. Don’t think I didn’t hear from my son how some ‘mean looking lady’ had ambushed his mother yesterday on the way to the hospital.”
The model can only gape at Atsumu’s words, blinking in confusion. She stutters, “S—So—Son?”
“Goodbye now,” Osamu interrupts by sliding the door shut right in front of Yumi’s face, using her dazed gaze to his advantage by locking the door. Turning around, he arches a brow in curiosity towards his brother who looked nowhere near comfortable in his position, “Are you sure it was the right move to let Yumi, of all people, that you have a son?”
Atsumu lets out a frustrated sigh before waving his hand dismissively, “I’ll handle it.”
“How are you feeling?” Osamu asks as he occupies the seat next to Atsumu’s bed, “Judging by the look on your face, probably shit huh?”
Atsumu rolls his eyes before giving his brother a glare, “Yeah, no shit there.”
“It’s expected,” his brother lifts his shoulders up in a shrug as he leans back against his seat, “Your doctor did list down what you can and can’t do after this surgery, and well, what you would be feeling right after, so this is to be expected. Unless, you didn’t really listen?”
“Of course I listened, ya shit.” Atsumu snaps, brows furrowing.
Osamu lets a laugh escape his lips, a grin taking place on his lips, “Could’ve fooled me.”
“Why is my head hurting so fucking bad?” he lets out a groan, fluttering his eyes shut in annoyance for the pounding headache.
“You don’t remember?”
Atsumu flutters his eyelids back open to look at his brother in confusion, “What are you talking about?”
“You fucking got out of bed the moment you were put into this room after your surgery, you dimwit.” Osamu scolds him with a glare, bringing his hands up to massage his temples with the tips of his fingers, “You were told to rest, not to get out of bed. You passed out after the nurse tried getting you back to bed, in the hallway mind you, and Atsuhiko had to witness it. You didn’t know how scared the little boy was after you collapsed head first.”
Atsumu winces from the tone his twin was using, not that he cared for his brother’s scolding but it seemed the medication that was still in his system made everything sensitive, including his hearing. A frown makes its way to his lips at the mention of his son, “How about his brother? How’s Atsuhiro? His transfusion was just right after my surgery wasn’t it?”
“Stop talking and let me explain,” he sighs at his brother’s impatience but somehow he inwardly smiles at this side of his brother.
Since Atsumu had rushed out of the V.League Associations Party to confess his feelings to you, almost everyone noticed a change in him. Sure, he still attended training but according to Coach Samson, Atsumu seemed to be in top shape and even seemed to be more relaxed and enjoying his time on court. Of course, people who knew of the situation Atsumu was in, knew exactly the reason as to why he was in such condition.
Ever since the two of you cried to each other, keep in mind, in a hospital hallway, on the cold floor, there was an honest shift in the atmosphere that surrounded both of you. It was calmer and full of the warmth that Atsumu and you had been longing. And for the volleyball player, having the chance to spend some time with his kids was a huge bonus.
It made Atsumu feel complete.
Especially when Atsuhiko and Atsuhiro had started addressing him as their father. Yes, Atsumu was on different levels of high; the highest peak of Mount Fuji, Cloud Nine, heck he was just so happy he doesn’t want to let this feeling out of his grasp. And he’d be damned if someone tried to take such joy from him. There was no way that he’d let this good thing going for him slip through his fingers for as long as he lived.
So the very thought of Atsuhiko witnessing him collapse and fearing for his state was enough for his heart to hurt, he’d never meant to worry the little boy. As the father, shouldn’t he be the one worrying for his sons? He knows what his kids are thinking, having them (mostly Atsuhiko) bluntly express their fears of their father disappearing again. So the sight of him fainting in front of Atsuhiko had probably sent the little boy into panic. He’d have to make it up to him soon.
“It’s too soon to tell if the transfusion was a success,” Osamu stars, watching his brother inhale sharply as anxiety bubbled in his chest. “But so far, everything looks good. I was with them earlier when the doctor came in and he said he’ll be staying in for another day to monitor him. If everything’s good, he can leave the hospital and return every 6 months until he doesn’t need to have a transfusion anymore.”
He nods slowly, “And what about if the transfusion isn’t successful?”
“I don’t think that would be the case,” Osamu lifts his shoulders up in a shrug and gives his brother a reassuring smile, “Atsuhiro and you are a match, so far there aren’t any complications. It’s a success, ‘Tsumu. Don’t worry too much. Focus on getting better. Oh, and actually…”
Atsumu raises a brow at his twin, “What? You tell me not to worry and end your sentence like that? I ought to smack you if my body isn’t sore as fuck.”
A chuckle escapes the other twin seated on the chair next to the bed, a sly grin forming on his lips as he remembers the conversation from earlier. “Mom may, or may not be already planning your wedding.”
He splutters, eyes growing wide. He feels his cheeks heat up from the sheer thought of approaching you after his own mother had probably brought up the idea of marriage to you while he wasn’t present to stop her. Suddenly, he’s embarrassed to face you. “Please don’t tell me she had been pestering about marriage with my sons present.”
A smile curls up on Osamu’s lips at how his twin addresses the younger twins as his sons before he shakes his head in response, “Nah, Suwa-san took Atsuhiko out earlier for the day and I was keeping Atsuhiro occupied.”
“Suwa-san?”
Osamu rolls his eyes, “Reiji, purple haired dude that’s always with your girlfriend.”
“She isn’t my girlfriend,” he grumbles underneath his breath, frowning.
His twin lets out a laugh as he teases, “yet. You two are practically married.”
“I don’t know…” he lets out a sigh, “Do you think she’d be happier with that Reiji guy? He’s been with her ever since…”
“You’re lucky you’re in a hospital bed or else I would have kicked your ass for that negative pea brain of yours,” Osamu grunts, unamused by his twin brother’s words. Sure, he often teased his twin but he especially didn’t like it when Atsumu put himself down over something serious. “Don’t go there. Just don’t. The two of you have talked things out haven’t you?”
“How do you—”
Osamu cuts him off with a dismissive wave, “She told me. We talked when you were being prepped for your surgery. Just be patient, you can’t rush these things and don’t you dare decide for her either.”
“When did you become the boss of me?” he scoffs from the bed, tilting his head back to look up at the ceiling, “I just want what’s best for them.”
Knock. Knock. Knock.
His twin stands up from his seat upon hearing the knock, thinking it’s probably the doctor or you. Before he could unlock the door however, he glances back at his brother over his shoulder, “Stop moping and just be there for them whether you end up with her or not.”
Atsumu watches the hospital door slide open and his heart swells at the sight of you and Atsuhiko and he instantly wants to reach out when he notices the little boy’s lower lip quivering as he peers into the room. As the little boy’s gaze lands on Atsumu, the little boy rushes forward frantically.
“Daddy!” he cries out, throwing himself onto Atsumu’s body as soon as he gets near enough. Atsumu couldn’t even bring himself to complain of the pain from the impact due to the sight of his son’s distress, reaching out to run his fingers into the little boy’s hair, “You okay now? You scared me, daddy! You fell and you wouldn’t wake up! I tried waking you up but you wouldn’t!”
He tries his best to soothe the little boy who was clinging onto him from the side of his bed but Atsumu couldn’t contain the excitement he felt upon hearing Atsuhiko address him as his father over and over. He realizes that he probably wouldn’t ever get used to it but he wouldn’t mind hearing it all the time. “Daddy is doing much better. I’m sorry for scaring you, buddy.”
“Good, daddy. You and Hiro should get better so we can start playing together,” he nods his head happily, his mood shifting from his gloomy one upon hearing his father was okay. The little boy scrunches up his features into a look of distaste as he straightens himself up to stand, folding his tiny arms across his chest, “Daddy, the mean looking lady came again! She was yelling at mommy and saying mean things! Uncle Bo helped and I wanna help too but mommy said kicking someone isn’t nice.”
Atsumu turns to look over at you with a raised eyebrow as Atsuhiko finishes his explanation and you simply shook your head. Giving Osamu a small smile which he returns before leaving the room for the three of you. You turn your gaze back at the man who was waiting patiently for you to answer as you slide the door shut behind you, letting out a tired sigh. “That woman is not worth our time to discuss further, I’m taking legal actions though. How you ended up dating someone like her is beyond me.”
“She didn’t do anything to Hiko or you?” he asks, worry laced in his voice as Atsuhiko slowly crawls into the bed and snuggles himself into his father’s side. Atsumu notices you about to reprimand the little boy which he simply shakes his head towards your direction, lowering his head to press a kiss to the top of the little boy’s head.
“She couldn’t even if she tried,” you let out a snort as you approached the bed. He extends his arm out, his hand reaching for yours which you gladly take with your own and giving it a gentle squeeze, “You feeling okay?”
He nods, “A little sore but I guess that’s to be expected. How’s Hiro? Should you be leaving him on his own?”
“He’s doing fine, sleeping and our moms are busy bonding in his room, they said they’ll keep an eye on him,” you reassure him, “Plus this little one over here has been pestering me all day to check up on you.”
He feels his shoulder relax and a sigh of relief escapes his lips, lacing your fingers together with his as he lifts his gaze from Atsuhiko to look up at you, “I’m glad to hear that.”
“I’m glad to hear you’re doing fine,” you counter as the corners of your mouth tug down to a frown, “You gave us quite a scare, you know. We thought something had gone wrong with your surgery that caused you to collapse, turns out you were just being the stubborn idiot that you are. You really haven’t changed one bit.”
He places his other hand on his chest, feigning a hurt expression as he juts his lower lip to a pout to gain some sympathy from you which you simply responded with a shake of your head. The pad of thumb brushes against your skin and he lets out a defeated sigh, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare either of you. I just wanted to see Atsuhiro.”
“I understand,” you nod as you finally take a seat on the edge of his bed, watching Atsuhiko listening intently to the two of you, his brows furrowed as if he was trying his best to comprehend the conversation. “Just don’t do it again.”
“I promise,” he nods, flashing you a cheeky grin which you just roll your eyes at.
Atsuhiko interrupts the conversation by tilting his head to look up at his father as he remembers the task his Uncle Bo had given him when he had asked a particular question after encountering the mean looking lady moments ago before begging you to visit Atsumu. “Hey, daddy?”
“Yeah buddy?” Atsumu asks, his heart swelling with pride upon hearing the word daddy once more, shifting his attention back to the little boy snuggled comfortably against his side.
“What does bitch mean?”
#atsumu miya x reader#atsumu miya imagine#atsumu x reader#atsumu imagine#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu imagine#homesick
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Kevin Can F*** Himself and The Sitcom
I am fascinated by this canon's universe, by the implications of living in a sitcom reality where there’s a non-sitcom reality when the sitcom isn’t running.
I’m taking as a given that Kevin Can F*ck Himself takes place in what truly is a sitcom-universe. I know some people consider the sitcom-style parts of the show to be Allison’s way of thinking about her life while she really lives in a more mundane universe, but frankly that’s not a theory that interests me. I have no beef with those who believe it, but I find Kevin Can F*ck Himself to be a much richer viewing experience personally if read as the off-screen adventures of an actual sitcom wife, and that’s the only reading I’m going to get invested in and theorize about.
At the beginning of the first episode I thought Allison was, on some level, aware that she was a TV character – I thought that her fantasies about living the 50's housewife advertising dream were the expression of a desire for a genre shift (that could never come) – but by the end of the episode I’d concluded that she doesn't know. I don’t think any of the characters know that they’re sitcom characters, and, as an extension of that, I don’t think any of them are aware that there are differences between the on-screen and off-screen existences they live. So what does it mean to be that one-dimensional, sitcom type of character and live under that universe’s rules for parts of your life, and transition into a rounded-out person with an active inner life at other times? What does it mean when you can’t comprehend that transition, and when the more rounded version of yourself has to tackle with who you are and what happens to you in that sitcom reality? What power of self do you have, both to be a person in your own right and to act as one free of the constraints of what the rules of a sitcom universe would demand?
What are the rules of the Kevin Can F*ck Himself universe as a sitcom?
Here's what we have to work with:
The universe is a status quo is god universe. Kevin and Allison can never move away, never not be Neil’s neighbours. We as viewers of Kevin Can F*ck Himself see what that means for the characters, how painful that stagnation is to Allison and the horrible things that have led to that consequence, but Kevin Can F*ck Himself takes place off-screen of the sitcom – on-screen, that’s just typical status-quo maintenance. Kevin and Allison can’t keep a pet, can’t add new characters to the cast or kick off old ones; at the end of the episode, nothing will have happened that will keep the sitcom from being something you can tune-in to irregularly without missing a plot-important episode.
The sitcom caters to the man-child id. Kevin can be rude and outright cruel to his wife, and he’ll never have to worry about her responding in equal kind. Kevin can accuse and humiliate and banish his best female friend, and she’ll come crawling back for re-entry into the gang, feeding him and making up for her failure to prioritize him. Kevin can fight with his best male friend, and the girls will sort it out without Kevin or Neil’s egos having to take a serious blow; it’s just a special episode where Kevin learns to express appreciation for his sidekick (at least until next episode). Kevin may be an everyman, but he will never be outshone.
The sitcom universe is simple and insular. “It seemed harmless.” It is harmless. All pain can be brushed off, all suffering passes quickly. Kevin can promise a bunch of people money he doesn’t have and trap them in his basement and not need to fear any lawsuits. Kevin can set his neighbour’s lawn on fire, and that’s fine, it really is. He can get a mailwoman deported, and once the episode’s over it’s no-one’s problem and it doesn’t indicate anything about what kind of person someone who would do that is or what values they hold. Kevin can get his wife fired, and she can’t nurse a grudge over that, can’t mention it again or have it shape their future interactions; it’s one and done. Dreams can be dashed, and by the next scene break it’s back to basics not simply because the status quo is god but because when your hopes die you get up and move on and keep acting like the paint-by-numbers character tropes you embody. The people are no more complicated than the actions. The caretaking wife can’t be truly hurt by the daily derogation she suffers from everyone who interacts with her. The next-door neighbour can’t have a fulfilling life outside of Kevin’s orbit, he can’t even complete fairly simple tasks without a leader to follow. Kevin’s dad can’t be anyone outside of being Kevin’s dad. The girl in the group cannot show an inner life or opinions or desires that conflict with her designated role. What you see is what you get, and there’s nothing you have to consider under the surface.
Kevin Can F*ck Himself has shown us that these rules only hold true on-screen in the sitcom; once the sitcom cameras aren’t on the characters anymore, the entire world shifts into something different. If we consider the on-sitcom-screen and off-sitcom-screen worlds to be like two intersecting realities, I think we have to assume that the sitcom reality is the dominant one. Events happen in the Kevin Can F*ck Himself reality that are necessarily related to the sitcom reality (Allison reacting to how she’s treated when off-screen; Allison and Patty discussing events that have happened on-screen while off-screen) whereas the events in the sitcom reality occur regardless of the Kevin Can F*ck Himself reality (Allison’s damaged clothes and injuries that occur off-screen aren’t noticeable on-screen; when Kevin confronts Allison and Patty, that confrontation makes sense in the sitcom universe even without the context given in the Kevin Can F*ck Himself reality). If the sitcom reality is the dominant reality, that necessitates that the Kevin Can F*ck Himself reality is still influenced by the rules of the sitcom reality even when the cameras are off – if the influence can only have significant consequences in one direction, then the universe that can’t significantly influence the other can’t have anything happen in it that would have to have a notable impact on the other.
To put this to a concrete example, the marriage Allison has on-screen can affect her contentment with her life off-screen and make her want to have an affair off-screen, but – given the premise expressed above – her off-screen affair can’t unduly affect her on-screen marriage. It can’t influence her think she might be able to find a safe way to get a divorce because that would affect the status quo of the sitcom. It can’t be reflected in her on-screen interactions with Kevin because that would complicate their marriage in a manner the sitcom universe can’t bear.
I don’t think Allison’s affair with Sam can come out on-screen in the sitcom. The sitcom everyman’s wife cheating on him isn’t what the target demographic wants. The dream of the hot wife who’ll let you get away with anything, who puts out and cleans up and cooks and boosts and takes her lumps with a smile and stands by you no matter how many times things don’t go as desired – yes! The culturally ingrained fear that your woman is cuckolding you, that you’re inadequate instead of all that she wants and needs, that you’re a fool and didn’t actually land that dream catch – no, absolutely not! It breaks the rule of catering to the man-child id, it breaks the rules of simplicity, and it breaks the rule of status quo. I think Allison will face problems with the affair – we know she will in some way from the ep 6 preview – but I suspect the issues surrounding it will be more along the lines of getting to know Jenn and discovering that she’s actually awkward but sincere and the “who really gets the hot guy” competition is way less fun when you empathize with the opposition, or having to face that the reasons she and Sam didn’t end up together back when they were teens still apply and that doing this with him now won’t make her happy. Whatever happens, I don’t think Allison’s marriage will be affected in a way that will show up in the sitcom at all. So there’s a front on which Allison’s behaviour is safe – the affair can never come out in a way Kevin and the sitcom viewers will believe in it, so she will never have to face consequences along the lines of suffering a broken-marriage for which everyone considers her at fault because she committed adultery – and a way in which it’s not – Allison basically said that she knew it was a shitty thing to do but she had fun enabling Sam in cheating on his girlfriend back in high school because she didn’t know the other girl and didn’t really think about her, but now that the relationships those involved are in are even more serious and the other woman is an actual acquaintance there’s no way that this won’t at least lead to drama guaranteed to have a significant influence and consequences in her off-sitcom-screen life. My point with this is that (if my theory is correct) Kevin Can F*ck Himself will show consequences, but Kevin’s sitcom can’t, and that inherently affects the dangers Allison faces for her behaviour and what can come of it in both worlds.
Leading off from that, we have the whole dealing drugs and assaulting a trucker thing. Necessarily, none of what we’re seeing in Kevin Can F*ck Himself about that can be reflected in the sitcom. We can have the dramatic irony of Kevin confronting Allison the night she started having an affair, we can watch Kevin confront her and Patty over the horrible acts they committed off-screen, but due to the nature of the universe, that cannot be anything but dramatic irony which sitcom viewers wouldn’t be able to pick up on. Simply put, Patty can’t be sent off to jail for dealing because she’s a regular. Allison will never be convicted for what they did to that trucker – even though you’d expect her to be in serious trouble given that surely there would have been security cameras all over any gas station – because that cannot flow back to the sitcom reality in any recognizable way.
Can the sitcom wife spend more than one episode under on-screen police scrutiny? There could probably be a plotline where she spends a night in jail, but according to sitcom logic that has to be sorted out before the episode is over. There has to be some sort of misunderstanding revealed, some piece of evidence come to light that exonerates her. She has to get back to her husband and the dirty laundry and the meals she needs to make. This is why I think it’s not possible that Allison and Patty mugging that guy for his oxy can come back to bite them in a way that would be reflected on-screen in the sitcom. The sitcom wife doesn’t beat people up for their drugs, not like that at least. The rules of a sitcom will not allow it.
The rules of a sitcom also don’t allow the star to die. I fully believe that Patty was right; if Allison had filled that burger with drugs, Kevin would have been back up and running by the next scene. So, given that truly bad things can’t happen to Kevin, and given that things can’t significantly change, what can Allison’s plans be building toward? Literally, is it possible for Kevin to end his life in jail for drug-related crimes? If the premise I’ve laid out above is correct, then no. Is it possible for Kevin to die in allegedly drug-related gang violence? No. It’s more likely that Marcus talks a big game, but is actually a small enough fish he could be taken out of the equation by Patty telling his aunt he was bothering her. I don’t think anything Allison and Patty can do in the Kevin Can F*ck Himself universe to get Kevin done for drug-related crimes can lead to anything more than a Very Special Episode about drugs on the sitcom.
So what does that mean for the show? I have no idea, and I’m really interested in finding out.
Can the rules of the universe be changed? Allison broke a glass on-screen, in a way which probably wouldn’t have been written into a sitcom, so maybe. But that didn’t really break any of the proposed rules of the universe, so maybe not.
And what happens if Allison succeeds? Characters in a sitcom have backstories, but can they have futures after the show is cancelled?
I’ve heard from a lot of people that they don’t enjoy the sitcom scenes, but (for the most part) I think those are depicted to establish and convey something important. I might be completely off-base with my analysis of how realities are portrayed in the show and what we can glean from that, but even without that I think we’ve been offered a compelling deconstruction of on-screen sitcom hijinks.
Also, I just really love how they’ve worked within the boundaries of the intersection of sitcom and non-sitcom presentation. How can the “just getting by” family afford all the fun things that make the sitcom life aspirational without making the characters too well-off for the everyman to see himself and his own struggles in them? Simple – drain those off-screen savings. It’s perfect. It’s so beautifully indicative of Kevin Can F*ck Himself’s premise.
Any way you look at it and whatever theories you prefer, the world presented in Kevin Can F*ck Himself offers up a lot of interesting possibilities and I can’t wait to see them explored.
#kevin can f**k himself#kevin can f himself#kevin can f*** himself#kcfh#meta#kcfh spoilers#long post#spoilers#sIp#and if a man like Kevin#who got a woman deported over some petty argument#who sabotaged his friend's relationship because she forgot to bring him a burger#found out his wife was cheating on him#what would he do?#and could you air it?#or would it be more of a ''Kevin's wife died off-screen between seasons'' scenario?#IMO this is very much a show made for people who don't like sitcoms in the first place
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