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teyamsatan · 1 year

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Illicit Affairs | Chapter III: Exile

Pairing: Neteyam x Human!Reader (later Avatar!Reader)

Chapter I Chapter II Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter VIII Chapter IX Chapter X

Synopsis: Your 18th birthday has finally arrived, and with it, a gift that will change your life and your relationships - forever.

Warnings: angst, mentions of death, cursing

Word Count: 3,9k words

A/N: Hi Guys! The 3rd chapter is finaaally here, and 'm happy to say that whilst so far everything's been mostly intro and world building, things will be picking up very quickly. Hope you enjoy this story of two very broken people finding each other <;3

"You were my town Now I'm in exile, seein' you out I think I've seen this film before So I'm leavin' out the side door"

You didn’t dare look back at Neteyam. No, you kept a straight face and your gaze forward as you walked towards the village, engaging in small talk with your 3 friends, who were more than willing to fill in the silence by themselves. They knew you liked to keep to yourself and knew better than to take it personally.

Your friends also knew, despite not mentioning, that this is a colossal feat, getting you out of the lab, getting you to leave your comfort bubble that you, willingly or unwillingly, built for yourself the past 18 years. Kiri fondly remembers you as a child, wild and free, running around barefoot on the grass and mud as if Pandora and her trees were just your own personal playground. She took a small gander at your feet, now safely covered with a pair of black Converse sneakers, the likes of which she’s seen other humans wear before and tried not too dwell on all the moments that lead you here.

You arrived at the village after a long, pleasant walk. You were fascinated with the Pandora flora, and wondered if you were ever going to get used to it, ever not have your breath hitch in your throat at its beauty. You hoped not. Your heart started to race as the sound of people idly chattering filled your ears. Soon enough, you began to see fire and tents, as the Na’vi were making their way back home at the dusk of another day. You saw some of them removing game from the back of their pa’li, others filleting a huge fish that you recognised as a dinicthoid, and as you walked further in, saw kids running around playing with toy ikrans and laughing amongst themselves, as their mothers lay on the ground watching them in adoration.

This place filled you with so much warmth. It was clear to you the bond these people had to each other, to the clan, to the nature surrounding them, was something you will never experience for yourself, something your mum talked incessantly about every day, and you suppressed a small cry at the sudden loss of a connection you didn’t even know you longed for until now.

You made your way to the biggest tent you could reasonably see, one that you quickly recognised as the Sully family tent. It was ornate and adorned with intricate designs and two large fire lamps framing each side of the opening. It was a sight to behold, and you realised that it hasn’t changed much since you last visited. You also started to take note of the stares boring into your side from all around you and felt grateful at how close you were to the tent’s entrance.

Almost on command, Jake Sully peered out of the tent and you watched as a wide smile replaced his previously confused expression. He was a handsome man, as much so now as he was in the still frames of your past. He was dressed in celebratory garments, a fiery red loincloth dropping from his waist and a dazzling beaded neck piece that matched. He had several arm bands circling his arms, and you took note of the way the colour palette matched that of Toruk, and how well that seemed to compliment him. He was a handsome man, you thought to yourself. Damn the Sullys and their genetics.

“Y/N, my God you’ve grown. What the hell happened??” He said, enthusiastically. He circled you curiously and eyed you intently. You tried not too blush at the sudden scrutiny and how it mirrored your own just a few moments ago. “You have time to lift weights in between experiments??”

You let out a small laugh. “Hi, Jake. It’s good to see you, it’s been a while.”

“It’s been too long. You never visit, but we’re hoping that will change soon.” He said, then eyed the kids behind him, and whatever expression he was met with made him quickly bite on his bottom lip and turn around, as if to stop himself from saying any more.

A small shriek came from behind him, one that you instantly recognise and you smile widely at the little girl, who, since you last saw her, somehow became as tall as you.

“Tuk-tuk”, you say warmly and watch the animated figure jump up and down and encircle you roughly in a bear-hug. Damn, she’s stronger than you already, you sighed.

“Y/N! I have missed you so muchhh, you have to ask mum and dad to let me come to the lab more often, I never get to see you anymore!!” She cried in your neck, still holding on to you for dear life.

“I know, dear girl. I missed you, too. I’ll make sure it will never be this long before we see each other again, how does that sound?” You speak to this child you love like your own sister in Na’vi, her English skills the least proficient. She nodded her head vigorously and with that, let go.

She took your hand in hers and made her way into the tent, and you felt relief flood your being at finally being out of people’s sights. Two majestic women, tall and mighty as the Valkyries in your mum’s Norse Mythology books stood by the fire. They were chatting softly to each other and stopped as they heard you come in.

Neytiri and Mo’at looked at you intently and you felt yourself cower under the intensity of their gaze. Neytiri slowly approached you with movements so nimble and fluid you were thinking she could have made a career as a ballerina back on Earth.

After a while, she kneeled on the ground in front of you and placed her long, toned arm on your much tinier shoulder.

“My Child, you have grown so much.” She smiled kindly at you, and you felt yourself tear up at her choice of words addressing you.My child…

Before you could stop yourself, you felt your arms cross the space between you and circle her neck. The necklace she was wearing scratched your skin painfully, but you didn’t care. “I see you. I’m sorry.”

Neytiri’s arms tightened around you and you heard a smile in her voice as she said “Oh, my sweet child, you don’t have to be sorry.”

You spent the evening catching up. You told them about your work in the lab, about how you all scrambled to find any cure or at least partial treatment to the illnesses that seem to have escalated recently among the tribes’ people. They tell you about training, Lo’ak and Neteyam’s training as well as Kiri’s, who has been spending most of her time learning the ways of the Tsahik, having a natural skill for it.

You find yourself drooling at the delectable food, and are happy when Mo’at calls everyone to the meal around the fire pit in the centre of the tent. You wait for everyone to get a portion first, and smile fondly when Neyriti passes you a leaf with all the goodies on it. You dig in, realising how famished you actually were.

“So, Y/N”, Jake starts, “how does it feel being 18? I remember turning 18, don’t remember much else about that day though”, he says, smiling proudly to himself.

“Feels just the same as being 17, I’m afraid. Was really hoping the Universe might give me some sort of sign or epiphany or, anything, really, but, in reality, I feel the same as I did yesterday, and all the days before that. The food’s much better today, though” You finish with a grin, as you dig into another piece of teylu.

“Right, well, about that.. us and the kids thought, with you spending so much time on your own, you deserve a special birthday and some special gifts. Now you can see them in the corner of the tent there, but I warn you, you’re not allowed to open them until back at the lab.”

You peered over his shoulder curiously, and were again disappointed to have to wait for a surprise you didn’t want in the first place.

“After dinner, we can all go back to the lab, and you can open them in the hub while we watch, we know how much you love being surprised!”

“Wow, going out after curfew, I actually do feel kind of special.”

“You should, kid.”

Putting all the wrapped objects on the back of a Pa’li, you watched as Jake mounted his own and motioned for you to get on, in front of him. You did as you were told quietly, and the entire family made its way towards the lab. It was a much quicker journey back, and soon enough you found yourself dismounting in front of the cold heavy walls of the hub. Before you could enter though, Lo’ak passed you a cloth of some sort, and wordlessly asked for you to tie it around your eyes.

“Oh, come oon!”, you said with a deep groan, but obliged regardless. What was the point of resisting now. You knew one thing though, you were very excited to go back to bed tonight, as the emotional toll this day was taking on you was, although not worse than expected, heavy enough for you to feel its weight for days to come.

As soon as you entered the lab and removed your mask, you put the covering over your eyes, and felt Lo’ak, you knew, pick you up from the ground and carry you bridal style through the halls of the hub. You couldn’t quite tell where you were going, but you heard snickering behind you, and soon enough, Lo’ak put you down carefully and turned you around to face him.

“Now, Y/N, you’re gonna turn around and we’re going to need you to not pass out. Deal?”

“What? This is strange, guys.”

You felt him turn you around and felt gentle hands unwrap the cloth covering your eyes. Your eyes took a minute to adjust to the bright artificial light of the lab, and then pause.

One. Two. Three.

You couldn’t quite comprehend what was clearly displayed in front of you. You recognised your surroundings quickly enough. The Morgue, the other humans called it. A room where the avatars of the dead humans, now serving no purpose, were kept in their respective incubators. Your eyes were immediately drawn, as if on instinct, to your mum’s avatar. You never came here, you couldn’t. Your gaze then shifted to the incubator to the left of your mum’s, the one that hosted Grace Augustin, Kiri’s mum. On the right of your mum, though, there was usually an empty incubator. There, now floated and twitched a body, blue, tall and strong, connected to an artificial umbilical cord. You peered at it intently, something about it making you shift uncomfortably towards it. Suddenly, you felt yourself stiffen in shock, and heard a loud thud as the mask and the connecting oxygen pack dropped to the ground. The new blue body looked like… you.

Neteyam couldn’t stop staring at his baby brother’s back as he carried you in his arms, and he couldn’t stop the twinge of jealousy that bubbled deep beneath the surface.He got to carry you, he got to touch you, he got to laugh with you every damn time he pleased, and now he gets to introduce you to your new life.

Neteyam, just like the rest of his family, has known about this for months, maybe longer. Norm, his dad’s closest friend, came to the village one day and announced to the family that him and the rest of the scientists worked tirelessly for years to figure out a way to make you an avatar, and with a lot of help from your deceased’s mother’s work and research, as well as some of her DNA, they cracked the code. The newly made Avatar was a miracle of sorts, nobody having thought it would be possible to create on Pandora, so far from all the resources normally used to make one back on Earth. But they did it, and it will be ready in time for your 18th birthday. Norm wanted to make sure, if it succeeded and you accepted it, they will in turn accept you in the village, just like they accepted Jake so many years ago. He wanted you to be able to have a life, not just a body, and be able to finally be free of the shackles you have created for yourself for years on end.

Neteyam couldn’t tell how he felt about it, partly due to the fact he’s stopped himself from thinking about it since he’s found out. Whilst his siblings and even parents were buzzing in excitement, he was scared. If you were to now be there, in the village, in his life, every day, he will be forced to deal with you, with the two of you, and the feelings he knew were buried in him for a reason. He stopped at the top of the stairs of the room where he knew the Avatar lay. Nobody cared about him at the moment, and, as a result, was relieved to figure out he doesn’t have to join you in the room and see your future body, currently inanimate and floating in liquid he didn’t know or didn’t want to know the origins of. If this was to happen anyway, he’d rather meet you properly, and see if the same flicker of curiosity and unruly smile could ever reflect in the same way it does on your current face, the one that still haunts his dreams.

You couldn’t formulate words… or thoughts, for that matter. You stared at the Avatar for what it feels like hours, and finally, Norm cleared his throat and spoke.

“I know this is a lot to take in. But we wanted your 18th to be special, Ace. We have been working in secret for years to get this done, because you deserve it. You deserve the world, and you can’t have it in this lab. This world also deserves you. So now you can go and show it what you’ve got.”

“We’re so happy for you to join us, my child.” You heard Neyriri join in.

“Do you want to see the gifts we made for you?” Tuk jumped in, enthusiastically.

With a last look at your Avatar, you turned around and faced the people you knew would be looking at you expectantly. You didn’t know what the feelings you were feeling were, but they were all fighting to take over, and you felt yourself becoming dizzy. Steading yourself, you recognised that words will have to appear on your tongue sooner or later, and you managed to get out a whisper “Sure, Tuk-tuk, let’s go!”

Everyone around you exchanged weird looks; they really thought you would be a lot happier about this than you were. You tried your best to put on a happy smile and react in the way you knew people would be wanting you to; after all, this was indeed an incredibly nice, thoughtful and attentive gift, not to mention damn fucking impressive, and whatever trauma the thought of having to pilot this Avatar brought in you, it was something you were going to have to deal with by yourself, later.

“Guys, I know I have not reacted in a way appropriate for the sheer insane size and meaning of this gift, but I promise that despite my very slow processing times, I am incredibly grateful and happy for this. I cannot believe something like this is even possible, and I can believe even less that it was done for me! But while I struggle to comprehend the magnitude of what’s going to happen to me, let’s open some presents!!”

You made your way slowly towards the recreation hub where all the packages were placed on one of the long tables. You chuckled awkwardly and took one of them in your hands. The wrapping, you realised, was the same material like the one used to make the Na’vi loincloths.

The one you held in your hands currently was blue. You unwrapped it, careful as to not damage it at all, and was shocked to see a dazzling necklace, one of the most beautiful ones you have even seen. It was a leather chocker, which adorned green and red stones, and it reminded you a lot of the bracelet you were currently wearing. You turned around and looked at Kiri, whose masterful hands you knew crafted it. She was sitting on one of the benches and you couldn’t help become emotional looking at your friend, your amazing friend, who you have known all of your life, and who always collected trinkets from the woods, trinkets that now will decorate your new body.

The next package was heavier, and upon opening it, you were shocked to discover a rider’s mask, like the one the Na’vi wear when flying an Ikran; it was brown and braided and had bones adorning it. The lenses were translucent and shone in iridescent hues as you looked at it from all angles. You were in awe at the inadvertent admission that someone thought you capable of one day passing the Iknimaya, and you felt quite confident in saying Lo’ak was the master behind this gift.

“I thought, you will definitely need it one day, and I wanted to get a jump start.” He says, as if reading your mind. “You may not know it now, but I think you were born for this, Angel.”

You had no words to say to that, but were touched at how Lo’ak always seemed to believe in you more than you believed in yourself. You took a silent oath to try to live up to the version of you Lo’ak kept with him in his heart.

The second to last package was also quite small and seemed to rattle as you picked it up. As you unwrapped it, you didn’t quite make sense of the bundle of feathers and chains, but eventually Neytiri kindly stepped in and untangled it, and you realised it was a top, a beautiful, sheer top, and you found it hard to believe this will actually cover anything. You were excited to put it on though, and felt a tingle of anticipation for tomorrow that was not there before… these were yours, for your body, for your future, a future where riding your own Ikran might be more than just a dream of an out-of-reach fantasy.

“Thank you so much.” You wanted to say more, you wanted to tell them the turmoil in your heart and how scared you truly were, and how you wish they would understand and reach over and heal the broken mess that was your mind so you could finally just go, get out of this place and make your life something actually worth living, but you couldn’t make any other words come out. So you just said thank you.

As the family and the scientists continued chatting, you managed to slip by unnoticed out of the recreation hub and made your way down the hall, looking for the missing Sully you knew would be somewhere in here, by himself. You were so mad at him, so much resentment had built up in you from the year you’ve spent apart, from the less than ideal reunion, and from his continuous attempts to avoid you at all costs. It was your birthday, for god’s sake. He could at least pretend to be happy to be here, even if only for the sake of the memories you shared.

You found him in your room, looking over the books in your makeshift library, mindlessly playing with something in his large hands. His ears twitched as you approached, an obvious sign he heard you, but made no effort to acknowledge your presence. You half smiled at the view, and tried not to remember all the other times he has been in your room, just like he was now. You sat on your bed and waited patiently for him to speak, like you once used to do. It might take some time, but he always spoke.

“I don’t think you should do it.” He says, without looking at you.

“You think I shouldn’t do what?”

“This, the Avatar thing. I think it’s a bad idea.”

You sat there, in silence for a while while his words twirled in your mind like his green bracelet was twirling in his hands. You didn’t realise your mouth was wide open until you felt it dry up and you swallowed involuntarily in response.

“Excuse me?”

He turned around to face you and you saw a hard look mark his features, the old Neteyam, your old Neteyam merely a long-forgotten dream.

“You’re not going to make it, Y/N. You haven’t spent more than a week outside in the past 3 years. You may think you got this, cause you work out in a dark stuffy room with some weights and jump a rope, but it’s not going to mean jack shit when you’re out there, in a wilderness so harsh it claims brave Na’vi men and women’s lives every day. You may think you know everything because you sit here hunched over books written by humans who couldn’t see even if it hit them in the face with a stick, but you know nothing about the real world. Nothing about what’s waiting for you starting tomorrow, if you do this. Tell Norm no.”

The rage you felt blossomed like deadly nightshade and you knew whatever it was you once felt for Neteyam was dead and buried six-feet-under in that moment. You let out a bitter chuckle and rose up from the bed, placing your body in front of him.

“You know, when I saw you standing here, in my room, after all this time, I felt some sort of sick hope. I hoped you had finally come to your senses and decided you would apologise for the way you’ve treated me. For the way you left. I’m not stupid, believe it or not. I never expected whatever we had to last. After all, it was only a matter of time before the mighty future Olo’eyktan realised his attentions are better focused on more worthwhile things, like training, or, I don’t know, finding the best future Tsahik. I always expected you to outgrow me. I just had an ounce of hope you would have enough decency to do it while looking me in the eye. I felt like I earned that, after all the blood, sweat and tears I gave you.”

“You know, I fucking hate surprises. I just never thought you’d be one of the reasons why.”

The silence felt heavy and all you could hear was your panting breath, as you were trying to reign in your tempestuous emotions and the tears that were threatening to spill from your eyes.

“Get the fuck out of my room, Neteyam.”

You found yourself forcefully taking the bracelet from his much larger hand and removing yourself from his path, motioning towards the open door. He left without saying a word and you shut the door behind you with a loud thud.

So far 18 was not your favourite age.

#neteyam #neteyam x human!reader #neteyam x reader #neteyam fanfic #neteyam reader #neteyam sully #avatar #avatar twow #avatar fanfic #neteyam x avatar!reader #neteyam sully fanfiction #neteyam angst #awow #awow neteyam #loak reader #avatar loak #Youtube

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jennamacaroni · 2 months

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Deborah is always giving things to people, and people think because she is very rich and very capable, she doesn't need anyone to give things to her. But Ava gives her something. [you take over from here]

its been two and half years that i've been ruminating on this prompt and never have been able to figure out what this gift could be. this morning i finally found my answer. thank you for sending this prompt which i'm sure at this point you've long forgotten about <3 love u

The package arrives by courier the same evening that Deborah learns ‘My Bad’ is going to network television. After an obscene bidding war, the purchase price from NBC Universal’s deal will be more revenue for Deborah than all 2,500 Palmetto residency shows combined. It also happens that NBC has the Super Bowl next February, and network executives pitched the big game to Deborah’s team as the perfect lead-in to maximize viewership.

That’s how big Deborah Vance is in popular culture these days. Big enough to follow up the most-watched television program of the year.

It’s kind of stunning, Deborah thinks, as Marcus offers her the iPad with the contract pulled up, ready for her signature. Maybe in her wildest dreams she imagined this level of fame and brand recognition, but it was never all that realistic. Especially not at her age. It was impressive enough to sustain her Vegas residency as long as she did in a culture where even the most prolific actors are put out to pasture after age forty. But here she is, about to sign the biggest deal of her career, north of seventy years old.

Josefina interrupts them before she has the chance to sign, knocking softly on the doorframe to Deborah’s office, holding a small package wrapped in a recycled paper grocery bag. “Sorry to interrupt, Deborah, but this was just delivered.”

Deborah waves her off. “Leave it in the kitchen, I’ll get to it later.”

Josefina turns to follow Deborah’s instructions, but something changes her mind. She hovers instead in the entry to the office, a strange look on her face.

“What is it?” Deborah asks, studying Josefina’s frown, mind going back to Ava hovering in a similar doorway holding the envelope from Kathy back after Frank died. She shakes the memory away and stands, holding out her hand and beckoning Josefina forward and to get on with it. She thought this was finally over, that after nearly hitting her with the Rolls Kathy would have gotten the goddamn message.

Josefina enters but stops short of handing it over. She looks Deborah clear in the eye and says, “It’s from Ava.”

Ah.

Deborah isn’t sure if anyone on her staff is still in contact with her ex-writing partner, but it’s been six months since Deborah fired her on that Hollywood rooftop.

First came the denial: Ava teary eyed on a night that she should have been celebrating, not believing Deborah’s words. I can do three months severance and extend your health insurance for six. Then came the anger, weeks of indignant and resentful texts and voice messages, Ava at her worst poking at every tender part of Deborah she knew, which is just about all of them. Deborah never once wrote back. Then bargaining for her job back, even when Deborah knew she was doing just fine writing for television back in LA, that she was even becoming pretty successful. Then came the weeks where Deborah heard nothing at all, Ava’s messages stopping completely, no updates on any of her social media that Deborah most definitely didn’t keep checking, just to make sure. Ava’s name in the credits became the only way Deborah knew she was still out there, still okay, still working.

Deborah clears her throat, swallowing down the acute tightening, ignoring the quickening of her heart rate.

“I’ll take it,” she says, curtly, “give me a minute.”

“I already opened the champagne Jimmy sent,” Josefina explains, handing Deborah the box across the desk. This was a night for celebration, but Deborah suddenly feels like anything but.

“I said, give me a minute,” she snaps, more forceful this time. Her tone clearly hits the mark because Josefina and Marcus share a knowing look before seeing themselves out. The contract, Jimmy, the champagne, it can all wait.

She sits back in the opulent wing-backed chair and lets out a long exhale, holding the small wrapped package and measuring its weight. There’s not much to it really, just wrinkled paper, crooked lines of clear packing tape, and Ava’s chicken scratch with her name and address.

She unwraps it carefully, like she’s afraid of what might be inside. There’s a plain white envelope with Deborah’s name written small in the center and a box for a pair of noise canceling headphones. She slips her finger under the seam of the envelope, tearing it open. A piece of note paper is tri-folded inside, Ava Daniels in neat block printing stamped along the top of the personalized stationery. Deborah chuckles, thinking Ava has come so far from writing solely on post-its. The note is simple, Ava’s messy handwriting in black ink in the center of the page:

For your collection. - Ava

Deborah opens the box but there are no headphones inside, only a bunch of balled up paper surrounding an oblong taped up ball of bubble wrap. Contained within are two ceramic figures, an unlikely pair: it’s quintessential Deborah in her favorite updo wig, a pants suit dusted in golden glitter, complete with golden high heels and microphone in hand. The other is a slightly shorter and paler figure with short auburn hair, striped t-shirt, high waisted jeans, and thick black Doc Marten boots. The tiny Ava is holding a small black notebook. They’re both laughing, and if placed side by side, the salt and pepper shakers turn slightly into one another, like they’re leaning in and sharing a raucous joke.

Deborah tears up, staring down at them centered on the desktop, Ava the pepper to her salt. The other half of her pair. She misses her desperately then, and if she’s serious with herself, has been for the past half of a year, never letting herself truly sit in those feelings until now.

She picks up her phone, squints at the screen through tears, and pulls up Ava’s contact. Before she knows what she’s doing, Deborah hits the call button.

The phone rings twice, then is sent to voicemail.

The recorded message says, “It’s Ava, drop it like it’s hot.”

Deborah clears her throat. She has no idea what she even wants to say. I miss you. I’m living my dream, I’m famous as hell, about to be more rich than ever, but I’m not happy. Not without you. Please come back. None of it is worth it without you.

But that would be selfish. Ava is doing fine, thriving even, without Deborah. She needs to let her be. Instead, she says, “Hey, it’s um, it’s me. I got your package.” She sniffles, swallowing tears. “They’re perfect. Thank you.”

She hangs up.

After her hands stop shaking and she’s gathered herself, Deborah carries the shakers to the wall of china cabinets where her collection is fully lit and on display. She makes room right in the center one at eye-level and sets them together, close enough to touch, their heads leaning into one another.

A few moments later Deborah signs the contract and the house celebrates, Jimmy toasting Deborah and her accomplishments over the phone to a bottle of Dom Perignon, a vintage for 1976, the very year Deborah filmed the late night pilot and ended up starting her stand up career.

If anyone notices the new addition to the salt and pepper shaker collection, no one mentions it.

#hacks #hacks hbo #filling some prompts to get back into it #so if you remember sending one i never answered you might get lucky :)#ava x deborah

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nuclearrayne · 1 year

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Dear EA/Maxis

We need to talk....

As a builder I don't actually play the game a lot but, recently, I had the opportunity to get more into the game play side of things and I am just gobsmacked at how frustrating of an experience it was.

You need to know these 3 things before we have our chat, 1. I have NO script mods in, as I have been prepping for your next update apocalypse. I do have a default skin, eyes, sliders and my choice of skin details because, well, let's be honest, you lot are terrible at creating acceptable looking body beautifuls. 2. ALL of my drivers are checked daily and updated, if needed. And 3. without getting into specifics, my system is very capable of handling the taxing of your 8 year old game.

I have been a sims player for over 20 years, I have dumped thousands into your franchise. I own every single expansion, game, and stuff pack you have ever released including your most recent money grab "kits" I do not feel that telling you this should garner me a higher standard of propriety because EVERY Sims player should have the ability to enjoy your game without the need to take a Xanax first! I just want you to be aware that my simlish is fluent (with and without alcohol).

Below is a glimpse of the issues I was having, and there were MANY, that I had in the few short hours I played, I have also included some colourful pictures because...well...some people learn differently...

Let me introduce you to Marley, she has been in my game for a long time, mostly to help me take screenshots for thumbnails (she is using the CC listed above, using the CC I normally have in my game and completely nude for reference)

Please fix your clothes so my normally healthy looking sims don't look like they have successfully dropped 20 pounds instantly without the need of some photoshop magic, your clothes should NOT being slimming my sims no matter how slim or heavy they are!

While Marley and I were in CAS we noticed that there is an alarming amount of clothes with texture oddities, mostly pants that made Marley look like she had taken a mahoosive shite, don't get me wrong it's a look, but? There were also several shirts and shoes that need fixing, too, however, I think the pants are the worst. Here are some examples:

When we were done discovering the horrors of CAS, I took Marley in game and moved her into a lovely little build in simlicy's save file (2.0) Here's a peak just in case you're feeling nosey:

After we loaded in, Marley stood on the lawn, while I immediately opened buy mode (be thankful this is a game play observation because I could blow your mind with the issues I have found while building) I bought Marley an easel, a bed, a knitting bag (the first of MANY mistakes I made) and a rocking chair. Going back into live mode I set Marley to apply for a painter job, then "cook" a salad, when she was done the welcome wagon arrived. I told Marley to invite her neighbours in, instead of doing as I had asked Marley sat down in the rocking chair and stared smugly at me until the welcome wagon left. Defense Exhibit A:

After shunning her new neighbours Marley settled in for some knitting relaxation with her new earbuds in. I selected "cottagecore" which was a genre neither of us had heard before and definitely will NOT again as it sounds like the entire "cottagecore" list played all at once with the added background noise that I can only describe as "living in a haunted house with a ghost that just had its nails did" I closed my game out of fear of being possessed by this entity and went immediately to your forums, where I discovered that this is a known bug that has been happening since 2017.

When I loaded back in, I was instantly hit with a phone call from a cat who wanted to know if he or she should go on a date with Eliza Pancakes and of course I said yes because pfffft what could possibly go wrong there, am I right?! Probably not but *shrugs*

After Marley told the cat that we would like to receive an invitation to the wedding and hung up my eyes were instantly drawn to the floor...what...what is THAT?! DUST?! At this point I was starting to get exasperated, and I am pretty sure Marley was, too. So back into buy mode I went to buy a vacuum for a house Marley hadn't even slept in yet. (reported fixed 23/03/2021 Patch PC: 1.72.28.1030, still broken)

I asked Marley if she felt like knitting in the rocking chair, she said she was a bit tired so I reminded her that we needed to recoup the cost of the expensive vacuum I just had to buy. Begrudgingly, Marley sat down and started knitting a panda beanie. Before long she began waving and yelling insisting I let her go to bed, she was exhausted, and truly, so was I. So off Marley trudged. I worried that she would not make it the 15 or so steps to her bed but she did. I sighed. Then, out of the blue and with the drama level of a high school Shakespearean actress, Marley stood up and threw herself on the floor next to her bed where she slept, I presume, like a baby. Ok Marley, you do you, boo! (broken with toddler patch - 2017)

While Marley slept I slipped into build/buy mode to add a pop of colour to her bedroom with a piece of art that had 2 birds on it and attempted a paint change. The art disappeared when I applied the paint, where did it go? Marley did you take the art?! No, of course not, you're still asleep on the floor.....(reported fixed 17/01/2023 Patch PC: 1.94.147.1030, still broken)

Marley got up bright and early the next morning, I asked her to make eggs and toast....she canceled the request repeatedly insisting she needed to search the web on her phone. (reported fixed 30/08/2022 Patch PC: 1.91.186.1030, still broken)

Finally Marley made it to the kitchen and began to cook...and apparently light the stove on fire

......thanks Marley.....I didn't know you were a closet arsonist.

After breakfast I clicked on the knitting bag and asked Marley to finish the beanie she had started the night before, she said she could not, so I clicked on the rocking chair and asked again, she just waved

I repeatedly tried the bag and the chair to get her to knit, she just kept on waving, she is such a friendly sim <3 Ok Marley, please go knit the beanie on the bed

No? Ok Marley, please scoot over and try the other side of the bed, still waving I see....Marley you have to use the loo, so go do that while I cue up knitting one more time before I reload, ok? Marley, you have been in the bathroom for over an hour....

Are you knitting on the loo?! Are you serious Marley?? Let's move you to a more comfortable place. WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU CAN'T KNIT IN THE DAMN ROCKING CHAIR?! Ok Marley, my face is red and I am annoyed let me just hit pause for a minute...Marley...why are you still moving...did you just "break the space-time continuum" like they cracked that joke about in the "patch" that was supposed to fix this issue?! (reported fixed 17/01/2023 Patch PC: 1.94.147.1030, still broken)

Alright Marley I am going to pull the knitting bag from your inventory, sell it and then buy you a new one, this one is clearly borked...let me just...wait, why can't I put this bag down, what do you mean I can't put it in the middle of the floor where there is literally nothing else around it...*click click click click* Wait, where'd the bag go?!

Marley let's just forget about knitting for a while, please go turn on the vacuum and then we will work on a painting to calm us both down. Oml, Marley that painting is lovel...why is the vacuum cleaner smoking?! Sh*t Marley, I think the vacuum found the knitting bag....

When Marley got home from work the next day she was clearly upset, after a SINGLE DAY at work she was feeling like she was stuck in a dead end passionless job, I sighed.

I asked her to change her clothes and then go paint, she changed her clothes and then stood on her front lawn for over an hour in game time, made a face at me then finally went to paint (known issue, reported as far back as 08/2020, still broken)

When I attempted to save and close the game out of frustration my save got stuck for 40 minutes before I gave up and restarted my PC.

The point of all this, EA/Maxis is you have chosen money over your players. These "fixes" you say you're doing are clearly not actually fixing anything! Your players are crying out for theirs games to be fixed while you are announcing the release of "growing together" And quite honestly I have found myself disgusted with this whole thing. WE SHOULD NOT HAVE TO ADD MODS TO THE GAME TO FIX IT!! To quote a member of this community who I admire greatly "no other ea game is this fucking borked and no other gaming community would accept this but cc and mods more or less served as some sort of bandaid for this broken ass game." -xldkx 31/07/2022 (original post here)

When I am finished posting this I will be going into that horrible buggy af app (I am sensing a theme here) that you have forced us all to switch to, where I will be canceling my pre-order of "growing together" I am done blindly throwing money at you for a game I can not even play in its current state!

FIX YOUR DAMN GAME!!!

#ts4 #busted ass game #fix your sh*t EA

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fizzingwizard · 3 months

Text

Time for some semi-ritual bitching about one of my favorite bitch-worthy topics, Yugioh

Why couldn't they have just done Memory World properly

Why make us suffer through Doma... and especially KC Grand Prix, a single episode of which is more boring than filler in any other fandom... and they made an entire filler arc out of it! Like Doma has lots of faults but at least it tried to do something interesting. It tried to develop characters, which proooobably shouldn't have been undertaken by a filler arc with no canon script to follow, but gold star for trying! Had a shitty finale not remotely worthy of its awesome beginning, but did we really expect any better? lol. KC Grand Prix tho, no. That's just there to Idk be mean to men with pink hair and dumb names?? In the ridiculous hair dumb names anime???

cut because Fizz has the curse of long-windedness thanks my evil fairy godmother

anyway back to Memory World, maybe the issue was the story in the manga still lagged behind where the anime was. I don't remember. If so I guess there was no choice but filler. Still, did they have to blow the budget on it? They lost most of their good animators during Doma, where they also introduced a couple new crap ones who stuck around till the end of course -___- And no doubt the animators were getting paid peanuts for long hours of work, and if they'd run out of budget to even pay that... well clearly the show should have been shorter. Like two whole filler arcs shorter. Just take a break, take a pause, come back when you're ready to do Memory World the way it should be done. Back then no one took breaks, "The fans will forget us," nowadays TV shows just up and away for multiple years at a time x'D before returning suddenly with a new season.

The reason I'm still salty and plan to be salty to my grave is just this. Memory World is the one and only YGO arc since season zero that was not explicitly about card games. They'd been dropping hints since the first that we could expect ancient Egypytian shenanigans in the finale. We were supposed to find out about Atem's lost memories and recover his name. That was the driving force behind everything that wasn't filler. I specifically became a fan as a kid because I enjoyed reading about Ancient Egypt and thought the idea of a millennia-old feud between a pharaoh and whoever Bakura really was sounded neat. So I watched hours and hours and hours of card games all for the sake of making it to Ancient Egypt.

(don't get me wrong I enjoyed the card games lol. Never ask a YGO fan to explain how watching characters stand around and yell "Pot of Greed allows me to draw two cards from my deck!" for hundreds of episodes somehow stayed fresh and interesting)

So we reach Memory World at loooooooong last and. And the animation is the worst. Atem falls off a cliff it's just like "ow." Bakura isn't have as intriguing anymore now that he's a poorly drawn anime guy with scars. He arrives toting Atem's father's mummy it should be scary. It should be shocking. But instead, for some reason we watched dancing girls of questionable historical accuracy repeat the same frame several times, while Atem makes a face like a baby trying his hardest to go number two in his diaper. In the manga this scene is really funny, with Siamun being Sugoroku in every way, and Atem in his awkwardness being more Yugi-like than we've ever seen him. In the anime they are just going through the motions. There's no life in anything.

The one thing the anime version got right was understanding that this was the one and only opportunity we'd have to learn about Atem. You know, half of the main character for the whole show. Even the manga is really so busy doing plot stuff it kind of forgets to make us care about the ancient Egyptian cast. The anime took advantage of the need for pacing to give us a couple low key moments about Atem & Friends, but for some reason it decided we should 1) know what Atem looked like falling flat on his nose as a toddler, and 2) show us that from a young age he was making grand progressive speeches about equality. Seeing Atem portrayed as a nice guy who cared about people gave me mixed emotions after watching him struggle for seasons with the possibility that he might have been a bad king and not remember it. Because we got a whole season of him making mistakes and disappointing fans in Doma, and now in Memory World the final answer to what kind of person Atem was is just "well he's a good guy in the modern sense of the word lol" and then we move on. Also, neither that speech, nor Doma, are manga canon, but fans on the whole remember Doma much better than they remember nice guy baby Atem. Which is so very nice -.-;

So Memory World could have been so much fun, exciting, adventurous in a way you can't always be when you have to stay put on a holo-duel stage (card games on motorcycles hasn't been invented yet!), and insightful about a character who has been the central point of everything yet whom we knew next to nothing about. Instead it was a poorly animated clusterfuck of battle scenes that were difficult to make sense of. The Bakura stuff was the best. The Kaiba-insert filler was the worst. I was disappointed with Set's arc in the manga as well, another thing that had been built up for years and years and ended up more about the mysterious waif-like dragon girl than Set vs Atem. If the anime changed something to add in Kaiba, I wish they'd have rewritten the Set vs Atem duel so it was mildly interesting, and Idk maybe Kaiba could have teamed up with Atem against his past self, which would have aggravated him to no end? Instead of just wandering around insisting none of this could really be happening. Or he should just not have been there at all. Personally I go the DSOD route and pretend Kaiba was never in Memory World, same as the manga. It's not like erasing him from the anime version has any impact on events bahahaha. He was included for MONEY MONEY MONEY popular character NEEDS to stick around even if he has abso-fucking-lutely nothing to do because MONEY MONEY MONEY

I love DSOD to pieces. But my own dream for the anniversary project was a remake of Memory World. Even if it had been a 90 min movie version instead of several episodes, as long as it was better quality, and invested in Atem as a character instead of simply as a pawn in a game, I would have enjoyed those 90 mins better than the entire Memory World season. Doma and KC Grand Prix were a mistake if they played a role in how awful Memory World was.

But they did the Millennium Duel well. Not astonishing, but really, except for useless Kaiba being there, it was more than adequate. (And although Kaiba himsefl was useless, it was cool seeing him rejected as an opponent for Atem in favor of Yugi. Actually I kinda wish they'd made a bigger deal out of that...) Kid me cried buckets (actually I must have been well into my teens by then bahahaha. I def cried though). Thanks to those final two episodes, the series send-off didn't leave me with a bad taste in my mouth. If it had ended with Memory World it would have been an even bigger disappointment to me than the finale of Bleach. And I despise the finale of Bleach x'D

#yugioh #youre never too old to be salty about cartoons amirite little kuriboh

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duhragonball · 1 year

Text

Dragon Ball Super 049

Who wants fish sausages?

Last time, Trunks arrived in the present, and his reunion with Dragon Team turns out to be very awkward. He mistakes Goku for his nemesis, Goku Black, and Bulma has to smack him to snap him out of it. Then Trunks sees Bulma and breaks down crying because in his native timeline, she just got killed by Goku Black. Also, Kid Trunks is here, and he’s confused by the way his parents call the new guy “Trunks” and he calls them “mom” and “dad”.

Also, the Pilaf gang won’t shut the hell up, and also Beerus and Whis are intrigued by all of this, and quickly deduce that this is some sort of time travel business.

Back in the alternate timeline, Goku Black is still trying to figure out where Trunks went, when his Time Ring starts reacting to something. Yeah, Time Rings are a thing now, and Goku Black has one, so this is another mysterious trinket of his.

Back in the present, Whis explains that meddling with time is a serious offense. Only certain divine beings are allowed to mess with time travel at all. To be fair, no one imagined a mortal would ever invent a time machine. Also, it was Future Bulma who actually built the thing, and she’s dead now, so who’s left to punish?

Beerus considers meting out some divine justice, but Trunks begs for his forgiveness, and Goku points out that no one told him it was wrong. Beerus offers to let this go with a stern warning if they can give him some tasty snacks, and Bulma produces fish sausages.

And that seems to do the trick. Beerus continues to voice disapproval of the time machine, but he doesn’t destroy it or punish Trunks. I guess that’s appropriate, since he knows of the rule, but enforcing it isn’t his department. Let me pause here to discuss the Supreme Kai of Time.

So when this arc was first announced, I was very interested to see if Dragon Ball Super would acknowledge the lore established in Dragon Ball Online, where Trunks went on to join the Time Patrol, a group of warriors assembled by the Supeme Kai of Time. The Xenoverse games and Dragon Ball Heroes manga explored that idea further. It was the Supreme Kai of Time who first confronted Trunks about his temporal crimes, and he agreed to serve in the Time Patrol as “penance”. She also agreed to allow his changes to history stand, and to preserve his own timeline, which is how both worlds continue to exist.

But DBS appears to ignore all of that, since it’s Beerus and Whis who confront Trunks. Also, in the recap segment of this episode, the narrator specified that Trunks has traveled 17 years to reach the present-day in Dragon Ball Super. So for this version of Trunks, it’s been several years since he defeated Imperfect Cell in DBZ Episode 194. I thought maybe his Time Patrol career could have begun and ended before this Goku Black business, but that doesn’t work if Trunks has no idea who Beerus is, or what Goku and the others have been up to since he left them.

And that isn’t too surprising, since it wouldn’t make a lot of sense for DBS to suddenly reference a bunch of side characters from video games. Except I do find it curious, because Akira Toriyama had a lot of creative control over the story elements in Dragon Ball Online, where the Time Patrol was first introduced. So it seemed weird to me that Akira Toriyama would retcon himself like this.

Then again, now that I know how this arc turns out, maybe the discontinuity was the whole point, and the reason Chronoa and the Time Patrol don’t get involved in this arc is because the arc itself is the sort of time anomaly they would have to correct. They just haven’t intervened yet.

“So yeah, I just need you to go to the middle of Dragon Ball Super and just beat the crap out of it.”

“Sure! Wait, beat up who, exactly?”

“No, the entire saga. Go and kick its ass! No survivors! <3”

“You're the boss!”

Well, enough horsing around. We’re stuck with this shitty arc, with it’s lack of Chronoa goodness and Xeno Trunks trenchcoatitude. Bulma takes a look at the time machine, but it’s infested with annoying comic relief characters.

The Time Machine is out of fuel, and Bulma doesn’t know how to recharge it or carry out other repairs. Fortunately, her future self put a notebook in the glove compartment, and it contains all the information she needs to get the time machine up and running.

Meanwhile, Goku and Vegeta ask Trunks what was so bad that he had to come to the past for help. Vegeta suggests it might be Majin Buu, but Trunks says he already dealt with that crisis some time ago. The Supreme Kai of his world prepared him for Babidi and Dabura, and he was able to defeat them, preventing Buu’s resurrection.

No, the real problem began about a year ago, when a man claiming to be Goku showed up and declared his intention to eradicate all intelligent life on Earth in the name of justice. He also claimed to have already done the same on other planets. It would be kind of odd that Trunks would have gotten this much backstory about his mysterious enemy, but we all know Goku Black never shuts the hell up, and Trunks has been fighting this guy for like a year straight.

Vegeta accuses Trunks of using the time machine to flee, but Bulma insists that Trunks planned to return with reinforcements. The notebook in the time machine proves it, because Future Bulma left a note to her younger self, explaining that it would be up to her to prepare the time machine for the return trip. The notes don’t address her right eye drifting off to the side of her face, however.

Beerus finds the whole thing kind of dumb, but he’s off in Flavor Town so he doesn’t care.

Goku asks Trunks to spar with him to get an idea of how powerful this Goku Black guy is. The script says he and Trunks have powered up to Super Saiyan 2, but the bangs don’t lie. They drew Goku in Super Saiyan 1. Trunks looks pretty much the same whether he’s SSJ1 or SSJ2, which is kind of a shame, but they can’t even draw Bulma on-model most of the time, so no use crying about it.

Goku turns it up to Super Saiyan 3, and I think this is the second time in the whole series he uses this form. I mean, it’s kind of obsolete at this point, but they show it in the opening credits, which implies it gets a lot of use.

Anyway, Trunks is amazed to see this new form, since he thought SSJ2 was the limit of Saiyan power.... sort of like how he never considered ascending beyond SSJ1 until Vegeta brought up the possibility. Trunks is a little too modest for his own good.

Then a temporal rift appears in the sky and Goku Black emerges. Well, I guess we can settle this right now and save some trouble, right? Right?

“All right, losers, pack it up. By order of the Supreme Kai of Time, I’m shutting this little shitshow down, permanently.”

“Awww, do we have to? Wait, what if we give you some instant ramen and a fish sausage? Huh? Huh?”

“Instant ramen? Don’t insult me.”

“Forget it, Kakarot, she’s one of those damn food snobs. I know what she really wants. Listen. They can draw you as tall as you want.”

“Yeah...?”

“Think about it. They don’t even bother with reference sheets on this show. They can’t even remember what fingers look like most of the time. I’ve grown eight inches since this turkey started.”

“Is that why your face looks so messed up?”

“Look, everything comes with a price.”

#dragon ball #dragon ball super #2023dbapocryphaliveblog #goku #vegeta #trunks #beerus #whis #bulma #goku black #emperor pilaf #mai #shu #dabura #fuck the zamasu saga forever

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old-archivist · 1 year

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Hi, I really enjoy your Bull analysis you wrote recently!

I was wondering, though - how old do you think he is in Inquisition?

I've seen different takes on his age from different people. Some say he's over 40, some say he's younger. I'd like to hear your take and any kind of math you could have though about 😁

Hey! Thanks, I’m glad you enjoyed it. I really should yell about him (and companions in general) more. Especially since my thoughts have definitely changed since 2014. As for Bull’s age, I’m so glad you asked cause I have thoughts.

According to Patrick Weekes, Bull is in his mid-to-late 30s. Thats what they had in mind while writing him. Which would be his canonical age range.

I think that is a perfectly reasonable range and likely a good one considering the age range they have for the Inquisitor. Which is up to the player but as young as 18, Patrick does specify the assumption is for them to be in adulthood.

But personally, for Bull, I put him in his 40s. I think my preference at the moment is mid 40s but it fluctuates depending on who im writing him with/what world state I have.

As for the math, I’ll put it below the cut.

So to start off, we know members of the Qun get their roles at the age of 12 if they’re born into the Qun. So while we don’t have a named year we can work from here.

From there the next thing is his time in Seheron. It is suggested by Gatt that the Qunari won’t send people into the thick of it in Seheron unless they’re “old enough”. There are stens who are stationed at quiet ports in Seheron before they’re 18, but other than that guess, I’ve been working with is 18 minimum for when you get sent into war zones.

To use Sten as an example, he is described as being very young when stationed at the port in Seheron City in 9:03. He is there for three years before disappearing for several before reappearing as a navel leader in 9:12 (its in total six years given the math.) So, even if he was 12 when he arrived at Seheron (though I have doubts) we don’t hear record of him being in active combat till he is at least 21.

So with that logic, Iron Bull is at the youngest 18 when he’s stationed in combat on Seheron. However, I go with 21 since he is put directly in a position of leadership and is known for many accomplishments in Par Vollen. There is no mention of him being younger than any other soldier, and nothing of note about him when he’s recommend for the position. He then works in Seheron for eight or ten years (World of Thedas offers both numbers) before he breaks and we lose some time on how long re-education takes.

Next, we know he ended up with the mercenary company Fisher’s Bleeders, who he worked with for several years (BioWare really likes to be ambiguous with this, as is the term itself.) There is also Bull himself saying he worked for them for a year or two. Consistency is lacking, as is par of the course with BioWare. The range lore gives is one to seven years; I say range, because as recently found with Cassandra, in game dialogue — when related to timelines — can be iffy. So, really, dealer’s choice.

Then comes the Chargers. We know he got set up and established in a few months, and that Krem was recruited somewhere in the beginning. Other than that, we just get the general “several years” which by definition is “more than a few but less than many”. (I really hate English sometimes.) Given the definition of “few” is typically associated with three or less, you’ve got a ballpark of three to seven years.

So keeping with the hard numbers, starting with 12:

Add 6 years to reach “adulthood”

Dealers choice if you want to add the 3 years till given a command role

Add the 8-10 years in Seheron

Add the 1-7 years with Fisher’s Bleeders

Plus the 3-7 years with the Chargers

You’re looking at a range of 30-42 if you have him in Seheron at 18.

If you put him there at 21, the range is 33-45.

This is just at the start of Inquisition and none of this accounts for how long he was re-educated, how long it took him to travel and even find Fisher’s Bleeders, or any of those unspecified and unaccounted numbers.

Come Trespasser you’ve known him for three years so you have a range of 33-45 or 36-48.

Now if you want my personal, hundred percent headcanon and only in my sandbox math? The time line is like this:

Role at 12 -> Seheron at 21 -> Asked for reeducation 31 -> got out of re-education 32 -> Traveled and joined up with Fisher’s Bleeders 33 -> left Fisher’s Bleeders/Formed the Chargers 37 -> Became well known across Free Marches, Nevarra, and Orlais 43 -> Joins the Inquisition 44 -> Trespasser 50

Which my math might change if he pops up anywhere in future installments. But main reasons why I prefer him in his 40s:

I find it miserable that he’s already worn down so much and he still has at least 40-50 years left unless he dies in battle/in game. I probably don’t ache as much as him (I hope), but gosh the fact it will likely get worse is not the kind of ouch I want cause it makes me worry about how my health will poorly age in 40-50 years.

Because everyone acts like being in your 40s is old and its not.

I also read him as more comparable to Blackwall and Solas who are written to be in their 40s as well.

Sources for all the ages:

Dragon Age TTRPG Faces of Thedas

World of Thedas vol 2

Dragon Age Inquisition - Dialogue

#archi talks #archi has opinions #ask #the iron bull #anon ask #iron bull #BioWare has migrated from conflicting numbers to being as vague as possible and still contradicting themselves #which I rather have the conflicting numbers honestly cause then you can have a ballpark at least

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moldy-mold · 1 year

Text

fall arrived sooner than we thought

How I’m doing... I feel like things are good now. Figured out a new weekly routine that combines a balance of work and enjoyment. I’m not gaming as much these days so I find more comfort in watching shows with my friends (though we live in different parts of the world). I look forward to that time every week.

Freelance illustration for weddings have seriously picked up though. I am pretty tired of doing it, but it only gets busy in short bursts so I feel like I can endure it until the holidays. Like usual, I will be taking a 2 week vacation doing nothing at home in FL for xmas. Very excited! I am terribly homesick and I miss my parents...

Kinda got into pizza. Like, I’m trying a different frozen pizza from the store every week just to compare them to restaurant pizza.

We had visitors... Some of my roommate’s friends from college came to visit. I wasn’t very close to them and I haven’t seen some of them since I graduated... So that’s like, 10 years ago? I thought it was going to be awkward but it turns out we had a lot more in common than before lol! Listen, card games unite people. One of them used to play YGO competitively (much respect) so we had a lot to talk about haha. One of the others likes R.Evil and S.Hill so there was even more for me to scream about! I think once I find mutual interests, the tension in my body disappears and I’m able to communicate like a normal person. We had a great time giving them the tour of ATL. It was nice to see the gardens again after several years.

Watched a number of films... October is usually our choice month for cinema. The spooky theme this year was gothic horror! The completed watch list: The Woman in Black (w/ Daniel Radcliffe) ◆◆◇ Crimson Peak (Tom Hiddleston) ◆◆◆ The Others (Nicole Kidman) ◆◆◆ 1408 (John Cusack, Samuel L Jackson) ◆◇◇ The House (stop-motion) ◆◆◇

My feelings about social media... I think it’s been long enough that I have successfully detached myself from it. My health improved greatly since I started limiting my time on twt. After some thought, I decided upon a new strategy in managing my platforms. Ironically, when I decide to come back is when everything catches on fire and people leave in droves. Typical clown behavior of mine.

Other than that, I’ve becoming less strict with my online persona (whatever that was) and I’m trying to comment more on people’s artwork. Let’s support each other!

The Plant Saga...

I finally got an orchid! That was on my wishlist for a long time, so I rescued “MOMO” from the dying plant sale section. It was $40 but I got it for $7. It’s my goal next year to get her to bloom again. It’s not complicated, but getting the right humidity levels might be challenging.

Last year, my mom gave me a Thai chili sprout that she grew from the seed of one of her own peppers. Weather permitting, my baby chili plant can finally grow some peppers of its own! Ultimately, I will be turning this plant into a bonchi (bonsai-chili) once it gets a bit larger. Turning plants into bonsai is my newly discovered hobby of the year lol.

I have some wildflower seeds that I started in the summer. I don’t know what’s in it. Just threw it in a pot to see what would survive. Hopefully I can get some blooms before the frost comes!

30 year old life goals... I stumbled upon a Jp vlogger one day and it changed me. Her videos are SO BEAUTIFUL! A lot of the time she’s just cleaning or cooking but it made me want to do it too... Also, I love her furniture so much! T_T They say that if you consistently expose yourself to people who you admire, they will naturally rub off on you. So I’m trying to watch all her videos while I’m working so I can absorb her vibes (and her furniture). 😂

Thanks for reading! Until we meet again...!

#diary

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moved-to-void-kissed · 2 years

Note

for the ask game , with catarina ! 3 (maybe specifically with the ashen wolves, + GD bc i remember u mentioned u go with them timeskip), and 12?

Sure thing, friend! Thank you very much for sending this!! ^-^

(question source: “ask game: self-insert lore” by inserthaven) (I think)

3. how do the other characters generally feel about your self-insert? - Thank you very kindly for specifying, because this game has a lot of characters. And you are correct - during the five-year timeskip, Catarina splits her time between residing in Alliance territory (since they try and pretend to be neutral in the war) and visiting Abyss, to bring its people supplies and protect the possessions of her friends that were left in Garreg Mach when war broke out. As for character opinions from the Ashen Wolves and Golden Deer:

Yuri and Catarina are similar in several ways personality-wise, so we get on very well - Catarina ends up helping him a lot with his underground activities during the timeskip, since she can be more of an official and proper-appearing figure to maintain appearances while he deals with the illicit side of things.

Balthus already knew about Catarina before she ever arrived in Fódlan since he is good friends with her brother (who is nine years older than her, and thus one year older than Balthus - they went to the academy together). She makes him feel old because of this, but he ends up as a bit of an older brother-like figure to her as well as a result.

Constance and Catarina have a bit of a rivalry going on, with Catarina maintaining that it's helpful to be skilled with weapons and magic while Constance insists focusing solely on magic makes her stronger. We do get on okay in ourselves, but I'd say Constance is the one Catarina is least close to out of all the Ashen Wolves.

Hapi and Catarina are already pretty close by the time of the game, since Hapi was put in Abyss at least six months before the game starts and Catarina had already been put in there prior to that. Hapi is impressed by Catarina's combat prowess, while Catarina enjoys learning from Hapi about things like the stars, and wants to try and help her with her monster-summoning curse. I will get flustered if I try to be any more specific so this is what you’re getting.

Claude and Catarina are good friends, and bond over two main things - being part of a family that's not entirely from Fódlan, and also the tactics we use that aren’t just combat (as shown by our C-Support, which is about Catarina finding one of Claude's poisons and giving it back to him with zero judgment). Plus, they do say tricksters can sit peacefully with tricksters - after all, they know there’s no point trying to trick each other.

Hilda and Catarina aren't super close in and of themselves (no animosity, just very different personalities), but their older brothers were really good friends when they were at the academy together (alongside Balthus), so we sort of knew a bit about each other before meeting because of that!

Lorenz.. is not someone I really know much about, but he would probably like Catarina for her noble status and combat prowess. He would quickly and irreversibly get on her nerves if he tried to flirt with her because of this, though.

Ignatz is also someone I don't really have much of an opinion on myself, but I feel like he might kind of be a bit scared of Catarina? Just because she can come across as rather intimidating, and he's a bit shy. He seems nice, though, so she wouldn’t intend to be intimidating him.

Raphael is the same in terms of me not really having much of an opinion on him myself, but he has a very different fighting style and attitude to Catarina, so I think we would- not clash, necessarily, but just not really have much in common?

Marianne and Catarina might clash a bit because of their differing views on the goddess and religion, but we both like nature and don't mind being quiet, so I think we might get on okay - maybe Catarina’s self-confidence can help Marianne with her own a bit? That would be nice.

Lysithea reminds Catarina a lot of how she was when she was younger, as we are both very academically-focused. I like to think we both learn in a similar way, so we get on well because of that, rather than competing.

Leonie is probably another one of those instances where she doesn’t feel anything negative about Catarina in particular, but we’re just not really very similar, so there’s nothing much to really make us be close.

12. how would the fandom view your self-insert? - I mean, I can't exactly say I have much experience with the fandom for this game myself, but.. I can imagine Catarina being slightly polarising. This post is already getting very long, though, so let me put my explanation under a readmore.

On the one hand, she's a very unique gameplay unit because of how her Personal Skill inverts the lowest growth rate addition from her current class, so all of a sudden that makes a lot of classes work very differently when she's in them and that could open up a lot more theorycrafting about how to use her best (for example, her Speed growth rate would actually improve rather than reducing if she was made something like a Valkyrie or a Mortal Savant, making that normally-seen-as-bad-for-a-master-class class more appealing for her; she also can focus on strength or magic with roughly equal effectiveness). She also introduces another nation outside of Fódlan to make the world feel more well-developed, and I like to think it can make sense for her to join any of the three sides she can (dislike of the Church and power system for Crimson Flower, familial links to the Kingdom for Azure Moon, personal friend link to the Alliance for Verdant Wind), and she would also be another same-gender S-Support option for female Byleth if that counts for anything.

On the other hand, people might not like that she can't be used in Silver Snow even if you'd already recruited her into the Black Eagles, and at the moment I generally feel like her presence in Abyss and the Cindered Shadows story isn't quite as well-integrated as it could be, though the fact she has a Crest now is helping that so hopefully it won't be that much of a problem. Since I haven’t spoken about that on this blog yet - I’m giving Catarina the Crest of Ernest, the Thorn Dragon, which is the one that was lost to history and only otherwise appears in Anna for no reason. Her having this Crest is part of why she was able to stick around in the Ashen Wolves, since Aelfric wondered if it would help with the Rite of Rising, only for him to then become dismissive of her and resent her presence there once he realised it didn’t have any relevance.

I hope that all of this was alright!! Thank you so much again for sending this ask, friend!!

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totallyhussein-blog · 1 year

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“The same hand that can write a beautiful poem, can knock you out with one punch”

The origin of boxing as a sport, may be its acceptance by the ancient Greeks as an Olympic game. But earlier boxing records are depicted in Sumerian carvings in Iraq, while an ancient Egyptian relief depicts two fist-fighters and spectators.

Other examples can also be found in Assyrian and Babylonian art but back in 2017, Iraq Solidarity News (Al-Thawra) reported how Iraqi athletes have been competing in Mixed Martial Arts events in the country's capital, Baghdad.

“As the audience cheers, judges look on using a points system to evaluate the fighters in a number of categories including striking and defence. Tournaments see professional fighters fighting it out in the ring with players taking part in each competition.”

Events are held at the Yarmouk Leisure Club in western Baghdad. The full contact sport includes elements of wrestling, boxing as well as other martial art disciplines. This sport came to Iraq in 2011 and such sporting events are held by organizations like the Iraqi Combat Fighting Championship.

Amir Albazi’s journey to become the first Iraqi man fighting for the Ultimate Fighting Championship (UFC) may have been tougher than any of his bouts to date.

The rising talent in professional mixed martial arts (MMA) was born in Baghdad but grew up in Sweden, after his family fled Iraq to escape Saddam Hussein’s authoritarian regime.

As the BBC reported back in December, Albazi arrived in the Nordic country as a boy who could not speak a word of Swedish - and he experienced severe culture shock in his new surroundings.

“In school, I couldn’t understand what people were saying, but I could tell they were making fun of me,” he told the BBC. “The only way I could express myself was with my fists.”

The 29-year-old said his world was transformed when, by chance, he found MMA on TV. It was love at first sight. As a professional, Albazi is known by his ring name, “The Prince” - a translation of his Arabic first name.

He now has almost 15 years of experience in the sport and wants to become the first Iraqi and Arab champion in the UFC’s history. “I feel a great responsibility on my shoulders being the only Iraqi in the UFC. I feel as if I am representing my country and the whole Arab world,” he said.

Following years of hard work, It was a historic day for the Iraqi Mixed Martial Arts Federation (IRAQMMAF) as it received official recognition from the Iraqi National Olympic Committee.

An election also took place to determine the federation’s board, where Raad Jameel was elected as president and Haydar Mahdi as vice president. Ahmed Jameel will serve as the Secretary, with Salwan Raheem, Mohamad Dawod, Hammen Tahsyn, and Basma Jabar all confirmed to be members of the board.

Since receiving recognition, IRAQMMAF has been actively planning for the future, hosting the first meeting of the executive board to discuss the development of coaches and athletes by making courses readily available.

As IMMAF reported on April 10th, the first training session of the national team also took place, led by the coaching staff and the national wrestling team captain, Samir Mahdi.

The IRAQMMAF has already been active on the IMMAF circuit, debuting at the 2021 World Championships before going on to feature at the 2022 Asian Championships and World Championships. The federation has big plans for the future of the sport in Iraq, and the recent achievement of recognition will be a major factor in those plans.

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thetoxicgamer · 1 year

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The Sims 4 PSA Highlights Overlooked Phone Customisation

We always welcome a helpful The Sims 4 PSA, because with so many Sims 4 expansion packs and updates over the years since its release in September 2014 it can be easy to lose track of some welcome features that you might want to make use of. If you’re playing one of the best life games on PC, you probably enjoy customising everything from the look of your Sims to the ways they dress and the homes they live in – but there’s one cool option that is often overlooked because of its placement. Did you know you could change your phone case in The Sims 4? I didn’t, and I’ve been playing the game off and on since launch. Neither did Sims Reddit user GamblerJolly, who shares a PSA on the game’s dedicated subreddit letting other players know about the feature. With how much care and effort players put into capturing their Sims’ personalities through their outfits, having custom phone cases is another great way to help that shine. “I have been playing this godforsaken game since launch day and I just now find out you can change their damn phone cases,” GamblerJolly exclaims, “I’ve had my Sims use grey phones for years when they could’ve had personalised ones?” They and I are far from alone, too; one of the most upvoted responses reads, “Of course this is the way that I find out about it too,” while another user laughs, “I knew and I still forget.” Some players note that long-time fans may have missed out on this option because it wasn’t there at launch. The feature was added in 2016 around the time of the Get Together DLC, though you can use it regardless of which expansion packs you own. You also have the option to tweak your phone background. How to change your phone case and background in The Sims 4 When you pull up your phone in The Sims 4, you’ll notice several small buttons in the top corner. The first of these allows you to adjust the phone volume, while the other two are for customisation. The middle button changes your phone background, while the rightmost button allows you to pick a new phone case. The Sims 4 - close-up of the mobile phone screen showing the customisation tools in the top-left corner of the screenYou’ll see the backgrounds change on the fly, whereas you’ll have to wait for your Sim to put their phone away before the phone case will change – though, helpfully, they will take out their phone to show the new one off when you switch. Several of the choices come with additional patterns and designs, so be sure to try them all! This is far from the only more well-hidden customisation option in The Sims 4, though some do require certain packs or other DLC. The umbrella rack added in Seasons lets you choose between a variety of designs for when you’re covering from the rain (or the sun, if you happen to be a vampire). It’s always nice to be able to tweak every little detail to your liking, after all – hopefully we can expect even more such tools when The Sims 5, currently in development as Project Rene, finally arrives. If you’re looking for even more customisation options, the best Sims 4 CC packs are, well, packed with creative new additions. You can go even further by digging into some of the best Sims 4 mods, and you might be able to even customise some wilder aspects of your Sims’ personal lives should you opt for some of the best Sims 4 sex mods. Now that you can play The Sims 4 free, there’s no reason not to give it a try and see what the fuss is all about! Read the full article

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bazmichaels · 1 year

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Career - Part Two

The year was 1986. The place was San Bernardino, California. The operating system was VAX/VMS. The temperature was 120 degrees (but it was a dry heat). The air was thick with smog and anticipation. I had become an employee of TRW, the Thompson, Ramo, Woolridge corporation. It was famous for auto parts, apparently, but I was working in its Ballistic Missile Division (Oh yeah, global thermonuclear warfare. Cool.). Even before I started working, I felt infinitely more comfortable in California. It’s a place where you don’t have to be born there to fit in. You don’t even have to fit in – you can just be yourself. My semi-Hispanic appearance didn’t matter at all here. It’s a cultural melting pot. We have Hispanic and Asian people that have been here for generations, or that just arrived and are here to find a better life, and to work hard for it. Black people here, never having had to deal with Jim Crow laws (just systemic judicial discrimination, redlining, and police brutality), are integrated into society, for the most part. Every year, the Rose Parade is broadcast to millions of freezing Americans on New Years’ Day, and they see the warm weather and move out here before the winter is over. Aspiring actors and actresses move out here from the Midwest every day and fulfill the needs of our food service industry. With all these disparate cultures entwined together in a vast tangle of clogged freeways, we don’t expect everyone to look, dress, speak, or act like everyone else. It frees the soul. It also makes traffic a nightmare.

I hired into a group of about 10 programmers. It was on Norton Air Force Base in a huge warehouse-like building, in a large office that had several smaller offices inside it. Most of the programmers were young. There were some other programming groups in our hallway, and we had an informal metagroup called the Young Engineers Club. Too many of the young engineers came from the University of Florida, the alma mater of Howard Grossman, who was our Division manager – our boss’s boss. I liked Howard. He would meet with the new hires every summer and tell them how to save money. Pick n’ Save was his go to suggestion. The Florida alumnae tended to clump together and do things like watch Gator football games together on Saturdays. (Author’s note: I hate the University of Florida more than a reasonable person should. It’s my issue to deal with, but I’ve chosen not to do anything about it, except let it simmer and fester.) The rest of us would rarely, but occasionally go out and do something as a group, and the Gator folks would occasionally grace us with their presence. One such occasion was soon after I arrived.

I was still staying at the Hilton as I searched for an apartment. We went out to a bar that was just across the street from the Hilton. Reminder: I still didn’t drink, but I was hanging out. It looked like there was another work group that was also there hanging out. There were some ladies in that group – one in particular caught my eye. We spotted each other from across the dance floor. I had barely seen a beautiful Latina in person since I moved from Texas. We walked toward each other and met on the dance floor. If you’ve seen the movie Saturday Night Fever, you have some idea of our dance moves on the floor that night. The idea was worthy, but the real dancing was just some rhythmic shuffling, waiting for a slow dance. We hung out and talked as best as we could over the music, and I met some of her colleagues. They all worked for a copy machine company as sales reps. I didn’t need to worry about sticking with my own colleagues much because I was just walking back across the street. When the copier ladies went home, though, the other ladies gave my Latina beauty and me a quiet moment to say a proper goodnight. She gave me her business card and said to call her at work, and we could get together some more. (Still no cell phones, remember?) OK, so, did she tell me to call her at work because she gave me her business card? I mean, women always have a pen in their purse, right? She could have written her home phone on the back. (You see, kids, phone numbers used to be associated with houses and apartments, instead of people. Every house and apartment would have one or more telephones in it, and people would call the house and ask whoever answered if they could speak with someone who lived in that domicile.) Well, I suspect you’re a bit ahead of. the me from back then. I guess I wanted to believe it could happen with the two of us, but we all know that she was living with a dude. But all of that is beside the point. I’m only telling you this to set up the first of three “What are the chances?” scenarios.

Back at work, I was given some time to learn the operating system and programming environment. We did our projects in Fortran, but we used interactive terminals instead of punch cards and green striped printer paper. How modern. I made up some scientific programming scenarios for myself and banged them out with both speed and quality. My boss was impressed and had me help on a couple of existing projects. I was off to a good start and loving the work.

Back to my personal life, I found an apartment complex near the University of California at Riverside (UCR) that would let me sign a lease there. They needed to pull a few strings because my previous salary did not qualify me, even though my current salary was sufficient. You see, my current salary was just my future salary until I got my first paycheck. I got in and it was a nice apartment that was within my new budget. It was a bit of a drive from Riverside to San Bernardino, but I was young and didn’t hate driving yet. Since I didn’t know anybody in the entire state of California, I wanted to start off living near a college campus. I figured it would be just generally more vibrant around there. I looked at the map around Cal State San Bernardino, which was closer to work, but it looked very isolated out on the very edge of the city. I was also starting to get the message that the city of San Bernardino was not at all a safe place to live (other than a very wealthy area up by the country club). Being in a truly multicultural region meant that I was back to having a viable dating life, and my apartment complex had several candidates right there.

Of particular interest was a lovely young lady named Peggy. She was a nursing student at Loma Linda University, she enjoyed sports and played a little tennis, golf, and rode horses, and we did all those things together. We enjoyed similar popular music, and we just generally enjoyed each other’s company. The only thing that concerned me was that she was a Seventh Day Adventist. I had just come from Utah and had to deal with Mormons, and I didn’t know what kind of Adventist things I’d have to deal with. It turned out that Adventists were vegetarians and didn’t drink, and back then I was also a vegetarian, and I’ve never drunk alcohol. But I was wary. Then one day, Peggy knocked on my door, and I saw her beautiful, smiling face, beaming with excitement. Then she showed me two tickets and told me, breathlessly, that she had bought us tickets to go see the musical ‘Cats!’ in Los Angeles. I lost my mind for a moment, but I really hated the music from that show, and I never wanted to see it, so I told her no thank you. Ouch. That was the beginning of the end of our relationship. Andrew Lloyd Webber is what allowed me to ultimately meet my wife and sire my children. Thank you, Sir Andrew! (Sorry Peggy, but it had to be done.)

There were a couple of attractive single women at work, but I never felt like it was appropriate to be hitting on women at work. Having said that, our office had hired a recent graduate of the University of North Carolina named Susan Mills. She was scheduled to arrive a couple of months after I started, and I was looking forward to seeing what she was like. Well, she showed up and she was fairly attractive – I mean, you can never be too skinny, right? She also had a sweet little southern drawl, which got me again. We started dating. Remember when I said I never wanted to date someone who would dump someone else for me? Well, she dumped her North Carolina boyfriend for me, then dumped me for Brian from work, and then dumped Brian for Brendan from work. She did wind up marrying Brendan, though. But all of that is beside the point. I’m only telling you this to set up the second of three “What are the chances?” scenarios.

As far as tennis was concerned, being in southern California was the best. Courts were everywhere, you could play outside year-round, there were lots of players, and lots of good players. I did join an affordable tennis club in Colton when I first moved to Riverside, but I also found a couple of guys I could hit with at UCR. I moved to Redlands after my lease was up in Riverside, and I discovered that the locals played at the University of Redlands through an organization called the Redlands Racquet Club. You could only play on the University courts if you were a student, faculty, or a member of the RRC. There were quite a few good players there, and I spent much of my outdoor time there. With a full-time job and taking some extra programming classes, I wasn’t in the best shape in my life, but I was playing my best tennis. I signed up for local United States Tennis Association (USTA) sanctioned tournaments on the weekends, mostly in San Bernardino or Riverside, and did well. My first full year, I wound up being ranked #6 in the Inland Empire. (A metropolitan area and region inland of and adjacent to coastal Southern California, centering around the cities of San Bernardino and Riverside, and bordering Los Angeles County to the west.) I also won several tournaments at the Redlands Racquet Club, but there were a couple of guys there that had my number. At RRC, I met some younger guys that I became friends with, but I also rubbed elbows with a lot of the movers and shakers in Redlands. I never wanted to be one of them, but it was nice to say I knew Judge Whatshisname or Dr. Thatdude, or Mrs. Bigdeal. One guy I played with at RRC would play on his lunch hour sometimes with Ed Rae, the VP of the whole Ballistic Missile Division of TRW. Ed was incredibly nice and justifiably revered. One time I was a little late getting back to the office, and I told my boss I was sorry, but I was playing tennis with Ed Rea, and we ran a little long, and she reacted like I was playing with President Reagan.

Back in the office, I got my security clearance, so I was able to work on a broader range of projects. Unfortunately, if I told you about them, I’d have to kill you. I can say that I got to learn about discrete event simulation software, and I started processing geographic locations. I also got to learn the Ada programming language, since it was becoming mandatory to write certain types of government software using Ada. It was very interesting work. I was encouraged by my boss to take advantage of the company’s generous training subsidies, and I started taking computer classes through the UCR extension program. I took some important courses that are critical to professional software development – particularly Data Structures and Algorithms.

Work was going well for me. I found myself working on more diverse projects to support both internal and external projects. We got some PCs in the office, and I got to work on some projects using Turbo Pascal, an innovative new development environment that used a new concept called Object Oriented Programming (OOP).

Object-oriented programming is a programming paradigm based on the concept of "objects", which can contain data and code: data in the form of attributes, and code, in the form of methods. Objects sometimes correspond to things found in the real world. For example, a graphics program may have objects such as "circle", "square", "menu". An online shopping system might have objects such as "shopping cart", "customer", and "product". Sometimes objects represent more abstract entities, like an object that represents an open file, or an object that provides the service of translating measurements from U.S. customary to metric. Encapsulation is design principle that encourages programmers to put all the code that is concerned with a certain set of data in the same class, which organizes it for easy comprehension by other programmers. Objects can contain other objects in their instance variables; this is known as object composition. For example, an object in the Employee class might contain an object in the Address class, in addition to its own instance variables like "FirstName" and "Position". Object composition is used to represent "has-a" relationships: every employee has an address, so every Employee object has access to a place to store an Address object. Inheritance allows classes to be arranged in a hierarchy that represents "is-a-type-of" relationships. For example, class Employee might inherit from class Person. All the data and methods available to the parent class also appear in the child class with the same names.

Another pivotal project for me was at an off-site secret-clearance building. I was working on a project on yet another operating system: Sun Microsystems UNIX workstation. This project exposed me to another operating system (UNIX), a new programming language (C), and a new graphics application programming interface (OpenGL). I can’t tell you what I did (or, you know, I’d have to kill you), but I had to draw a map of the world, overlay graphics on top of the map, and in separate windows, draw various types of charts. This was a lot to learn, but I was really digging all of it, and I soaked it up quickly and built some powerful tools. I also worked on a system for the department’s library. I was really enjoying this stuff, and, as a defense contractor, I was only allowed to work 8 hours a day*. So, I had plenty of time and energy to work on projects on my home PC. I used Turbo Pascal because I liked it, but I also built some libraries and sample programs in Turbo C just to learn it. You could build bigger and more memory-intensive programs in C than in Turbo Pascal, because you have more control over memory allocation/deallocation. I built a modeling and simulation library, a charting library, and, years before the Windows Operating System came out, I built a mouse-based graphical user interface (GUI) library. You see, kids, back in olden times, PCs ran an operating system called the Disk Operating System (DOS). When you turned on your computer, you got a prompt to type in a command. For real. That was it. Then you had to know what to type into the command prompt.

*When I worked in the off-site secret location, I had to be in a rotation of people that would stay at the sight overnight, because one of our employees had to be there 24/7. Cha ching, though.

I built a GUI library that allowed you to build an application that would take over the screen and show a menu that you could manipulate with either the keyboard or the mouse. The menus were designed to bring up dialogs, also included in the library, or you could draw graphics in the screen area. Why did I mention these details? Stay tuned.

All the cool development I was able to work on, however, was set against the backdrop of global thermonuclear war. I had one project, in particular, that haunted my dreams. I was commissioned to build a system that would tally up body counts (in millions of lives lost) in various nuclear attack and counter-attack scenarios. I built various graphical representations of the carnage data and several modeling and simulation methods. I remember sitting on the lawn at the Redlands Bowl, looking up at the heavens, (resembling a backlit canopy with holes punched in it) and visualizing in my mind missiles slowly streaking across the sky, heading for Norton AFB. It happened to me more than once. That’s disturbing. I would describe myself as a pragmatic pacifist, meaning I think violence should only be used as a last resort. I don’t watch many war movies or documentaries. I think people should love each other – not kill each other. I wouldn’t mind working somewhere that wasn’t an arm of the military.

One day, Julie’s sister Janis gave me a want ad from the local paper about a programming job at a company in Redlands. You see kids, before the internet, we had to print the latest information about the world every day on pieces of paper and we called it a “newspaper”. People could, among other things, advertise job openings in a section of the paper called “The Want Ads”. This job opening was for a C programmer on a PC that had experience with graphics, mapping, and GUI development. Between the development I was doing on my home PC and the work I was doing in the secret lab, I had just the right experience. Was my time at TRW coming to an end? Would I leave the security of a giant defense contractor for a small local company?

#memoir #career

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scandiengbergs3 · 2 years

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Matfors to Örebro, Sweden

OK, so I think I left off on Wednesday night, when we were in Sundsvall, Sweden, staying at what was probably once a farm house, in the traditional style. Actually, though, we were staying outside of Sundsvall, twenty minutes away in Matfors. So, we had the whole upstairs of this large house, as it had been separated into its own autonomous apartment. And, while the location was sort of odd (well off the path we were on, making our way back to Gothenburg over three days), and the layout of the apartment was sort of unusual, it was really nicely appointmed and there was SO MUCH space. And it was a really great price. I remember when I was finding all of the lodging for our trip, I just could not find anything in Sundsvall proper -- there was, like, nothing available basically and the two places that were available were like a billion dollars a night. That is how we ended up with Matfors.

Since we got into Matfors so late on Wednesday night, we basically gave the kids a snack and then got them to bed (after Cece wrote a note to the tooth fairy), Eric and I stayed up a bit and my Dad called us by video chat, so it was nice to talk with my mom and dad and hear all about the bonanza of a cherry harvest they have on their hands! Frankly, we were so disappointed to miss cherry season at home, and usually we wouldn’t have because it’s typically right around Eric’s birthday, but I guess things were taking their sweet time this year and running about two weeks late. Our sweet babysitter McKenzie (who is housesitting for us and looking after Kirby so well!!) did go and picked us several bags and will freeze them so I can make all kinds of cherry delights when we get home.

Anyway, Thursday morning in Matfors we had until noon to just relax, have a leisurely morning, and maybe get some time in the sand and water in a river or lake. So, first, we walked in one direction from the house and we came to a river or inlet and Eric was all raring to go get into the water. But, we turned a corner and realized there was a hydroelectric damn there. Nope -- not the best swimming site. So, we turned around and then went the other way from the house. Luckily, we spotted a group of school children with their teachers (probably at some sort of summer program) and they were clearly post-swim (wet hair and towels around their shoulders), so we concluded that we were on the right track. And we were!

We were on a small but beautiful lake, with a sandy small beach and tall grass growing out of the water in one spot. Rowan got busy making a sand structure: a hollowed-out mound, with reinforcements of sticks. Cece was also finding rocks in the water and flitting and skipping through the water and eventually getting her whole self in, and kicking and splashing up a cheerful storm. Rowan found a piece of a muscle shell that was quite large! It was his prize find.

Just before Eric hopped in the water, we saw a small motorboat, coming up the lake from the distance. As it got closer, we noticed that the ship’s captain was like an eleven-year-old boy. Another boy his age walked up to the edge of the dock and got in, got on his life vest, and off they motored. It was cool to see their nonchalant (and perhaps underaged?) use of watercraft to get together and hang out.

Once done with water play, we went back and --as my moms says, bibbity-bobbity-boo-- we packed up and were out of there! We had such a long drive ahead of us. We thought it would be five hours but it ended up being more like six. We arrived to Örebro, Sweden, an inland industrial hub, at about 6:30 p.m. and we went to dinner at a place called La Gondola, because Cece wanted pasta and she got to pick. But, along the way to Örebro (which was settled in something like the 1200s, if memory serves), we did stop in another small town (Hudiksvall), at like the halfway mark, and played on a school playground and hiked to the top of a hill and climbed on some rocks. Cece plays a game that “she created” called Rockscotch, and Hudiksvall had a very good trail for the playing of Rockscotch.

Anyway, La Gondola was interesting. We could tell from walking around central Örebro that it is a quite diverse city, ethnically. It is actually a very large city, something like 130,000, though it didn’t really seem that big from what we saw on our first night. But, we saw all kinds of people as we were walking around town -- first in one direction where we ended up at a pizzeria that did not serve pasta and then when we walked back the way we came and beyond in order to find a place that did serve pasta (don’t think we’ve let the kids eat pasta at every meal, as they might be wont to do if left to their own devices). Anyway, another thing that stood our to us about Örebro was the incredible amount of construction in the town -- but, really, that was the case like everywhere in Scandinavia. It was particularly frustrating outside central Gothenburg, but I think I already established that I got insanely lost because of these years-long construction endeavors (seriously, when we were in Gothenburg three years ago, the place was a large construction site then, too!). There is a big university in Örebro, one of the biggest in Sweden I think, and we ate right near it, so we saw a lot of college-student-aged people.

OK, so La Gondola. It was an Italian restaurant with a Middle Eastern flair! I got a delicious baked vegetarian pasta, which was so, so rich, and Eric got a pizza with olives and artichoke hearts, and much more, and then the kids, who wanted just pasta with chicken and cream sauce, ended up getting a cream sauce that was curry-ified. Cece ultimately said it was delicious--but it was very yellow and that surprised the kids at first. Also, the restaurant had a free salad that was some sort of grated cabbage or chicory or endive or something. Anyway, suffice to say, we were full at the end of our meal. And everyone was exhausted!

Rowan is reading over my should and says I have written too much about the restaurant.

Once we got back to the Scandic, basically the three people in the family who are not me went to bed within the hour. I stayed up, had some peace and quiet, and repacked one of our bags. Since we were returning the car the next day (today), we needed to consolidate. When you’re traveling by car, you can have a few dozen different bags going, but that won’t work for train travel and especially not for air travel. So, I started consolidating.

OK, that is enough for now! I will tell the story of Örebro back to Gothenburg in the next post -- and our bidding adieu to our Volvo until we see her (the kids named her Marimekko) again in Albuquerque in September!

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ppersonna · 3 years

Text

swipe right - jjk | m

“ i wanna ruin our friendship. we should be lovers instead. i don't know how to say this, cause you're really my dearest friend “ - jenny, studio killers

♡ summary- after a horrible breakup, you sign back up for tinder and ironically match with your best friend, jungkook. a date for fun is harmless, right?

♡ genre- best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, jk is a minecraft streamer, brother namjoon, brother-in-law jimin, namjoon is kind of a himbo stay at home dad ngl, ex-boyfriend seokjin (mentioned but doesnt show up)

♡ word count- 9k

♡ warnings- mentions of a bad breakup (smh seokjin wtf??), penetrative sex, unprotected sex (u know the business folx), oral sex (m receiving), teasing, SO MUCH BODY WORSHIP, jk is a simp, slight dirty talk, lots of just talking during sex yall it happens, creampie, cum play, praise praise body worship praise, did i mention body worship, tit-fucking, cum eating, i think thats all.

♡ a/n - helloooo and thank you for your wait for this fic! i’m so happy its done and i loved writing it! it’s a little bit different feel for my usual style of writing (smut-wise) so please tell me your thoughts! i didn’t use dom/sub themes OR a daddy kink LMAOOOO praise me please. i hope you enjoy!! pls feel free to comment, chat, message, carrier pigeon, email, mail, WHATEVER U WANT, me. i love u babies. thank you to @kimtaehyunq for the sexy banner. and for @xjoonchildx @ladyartemesia @untaemedqueen for the writing support and idea generation. i would be nothing without my council. and thank you to my beta editors @hobi-gif and @ughseoks and @hongism for the perusal and help in writing this!

Jungkook is the person you call when your world falls apart.

He answers, voice raspy from the late hour, and the second he asks you what’s wrong, the downpour of torrential tears you’ve been holding back finally escapes and you’re sobbing through the phone that you just lost the love of your life—that he left and with little effort on his part, and a lot on yours.

Jungkook listens to you—his heart aching deep in his chest at hearing the utter heartbreak that’s clear in your voice. You’ve never been hurt like this, and he’s desperate to hold you, to make it go away. He wants to drive over to Seokjin’s house and throw a left hook into his stupid, handsome face for making you feel you weren’t worth it.

Because if there’s anything in the world that Jungkook knows, it’s that you’re worth it. You’re worth everything. Add up all the money and all the gold in the entire world, and it still doesn’t meet a fraction of what you’re worth to him.

“Where are you?” He asks as he cradles the phone against one arm and pulls on his jeans.

You sniffle. “Jungkook, it’s 3 am.”

“So? I was up playing Minecraft,” He lies. “Where are you?”

You can’t help but laugh the tiniest bit, a sliver of warmth wrapping itself around your raw and exposed heart. Like a balm to a flesh wound. It doesn’t heal it, not yet.

“I’m at our park.”

Jungkook smiles as he grips the phone back in his hand. The park. The place you and Jungkook spent your childhood playing make-believe games, and formative teenage years loitering around smoking clove cigarettes to look cool.

“Give me five minutes, okay?”

You nod, even though he can’t see you.

“Okay.”

Jungkook arrives with two minutes to spare. His beat up Nissan that he insists is “vintage” and “priceless” idles next to you.

He can see you through the darkened glass of your car—your mascara is running down your face, tears streaked through your flawlessly applied makeup.

You still look so beautiful.

And it angers Jungkook that all that time you spent looking good for Seokjin meant nothing to him.

He motions for you to come over, pats the passenger seat next to him and smiles as he watches you open the door and slide into the security of his familiar car.

“You cleaned your car,” you murmur as you notice a severe lack of McDonald’s trash.

He sniffs haughtily.

“The trash added character.”

Jungkook doesn’t give you a chance to respond. Instead, he’s unbuckling his seatbelt and pulling you as close to him as he can get you. The instant his arms wrap around your body, the floodgates open again and your once-quieted tears turn back into full-fledged sobs.

“I loved him,” you gasp through the pain in your throat.

He rubs your back, pats your hair gently, soothing you the way he has for years now. Through every breakup, through every family fight with your older brother Namjoon, through all the mean girls in high school. Jungkook is the north star—always consistent, always guiding you back to safety.

“I know, babe,” he sighs. “You deserve someone who’s going to treat you right, who’s not just going to give up when things get hard.”

You choke back a cry against his Patagonia hoodie and bury your face further into the crook of his neck. He smells like Old Spice and the shampoo he uses, along with the smell of laundry soap you buy for him—he uses dish soap when he runs out and nearly broke his washing machine last time.

“I thought he was the one. I’m so stupid.”

Jungkook swallows hard. Tonight is about comforting you, not about feeling sorry for himself that you’re his best friend and not his girlfriend. He can’t help but think of what kind of life he would give you. He knows it’s one that wouldn’t end with you crying in a parking lot at 3 AM.

“You’re not stupid, you just loved him. And there’s nothing stupid about loving someone, even if it doesn’t work out,” he sighs as he cradles your head against him. It feels right having you there, pressed up against him and seeking comfort from the solace of his arms.

“Let’s go get a milkshake, yeah?” He asks as you pull your head up and look at him with sad, glassy eyes.

“Yeah,” you nod after a moment of staring.

Jungkook’s eyes sparkle with love, with hope. It makes the desperate, alone feeling inside you—disappear. Jungkook presses a soft kiss to your forehead and then starts the shaky ignition of his car, that takes three cranks of the key before it turns over.

He sends you a look, a laugh evident on your face.

“Don’t even start,” he warns. “The engine is fine.”

“Whatever you say,” you snort as you wipe an errant tear from your face.

“It’s a certified classic car! I could get millions for this baby!”

As the weeks pass, the pain of losing Seokjin becomes further and further from your mind. You can get through the day without crying anytime you see something that reminds you of him and even start flirting with others without feeling like you’re cheating.

You just still haven’t reached the point where dating someone else even feels possible. You’re terrified of allowing someone close to you, letting them into a place where you’re inviting them to possibly hurt you. You’re not sure your heart is ready for it.

“I think you’re just scared,” your older brother Namjoon states as he warms up a bottle of milk in boiling water.

He cradles his new baby in one arm while the other works at the bottle of milk.

“I’m not scared,” you huff. “I just don’t think it’s the right time.”

Namjoon sighs and hands the gurgling newborn baby off to you and readies the bottle for you to feed your new niece, Jisoo.

“Look, Seokjin sucks, okay? I know you two were together for some time, but in the end, he wasn’t the right one for you. There’s someone out there who is the right one for you. You know how many shit frogs I had to kiss before I got my prince?”

You make a face as you feed Jisoo, who happily sucks and gazes at the lights above.

“You call Jimin a prince?”

Namjoon sighs dreamily as he watches the baby and thinks of his husband.

“The dreamiest prince,” he breathes, eyes closed in bliss. “But back to your problems. I think you should get back out there. Go on some dates, meet some people. No one is telling you to fall in love and get married tomorrow. Just go have some fun.”

You allow Namjoon’s words to mull through your mind. What could be the harm in joining a few dating sites, perhaps spending some time at the gym or grocery store flirting with someone cute?

“Fine,” you say. “I’ll think about it.”

“Good. I can’t be the only one giving our parents grand-babies. Soo needs a cousin.”

You smile down at the tiny bundle in your arms and imagine a future where you have a baby of your own.

“Okay, I’m not trying to get knocked up, Joon.”

“Whatever,” he sighs. “Help me choose a wall color for me and Jimin’s new master bathroom.”

Tinder’s changed since the last time you used it, years ago. It’s gone from any semblance of dating to strictly an app used to get laid.

It’s discouraging swiping through all the obvious fuckboys. Sure, a quick and easy lay sounds great, but you’re also trying to go out and enjoy real, traditional dates, and it seems none of these guys want to step foot outside of a bedroom.

The swiping left becomes almost monotonous. You’re sitting on your couch, watching some documentary about serial killers, when a startling profile pops up on your Tinder feed.

The picture that pops up is... Jungkook. You can’t stop the bubble of laughter that leaps from your chest. His profile is so authentically Jungkook that you’re swiping right before you even know it.

Your brain doesn’t even comprehend what a match with Jungkook means, really. You’re still laughing as you click on the bubble to message him and send him as many laugh emojis as you can.

“Hey guys, what’s up, Kookie here with another Let’s Play Minecraft video for ya. Be sure to like and subscribe if you enjoy this kind of content.”

Jungkook’s headset is firmly wrapped around his head, mic next to his mouth and hands at the ready on his mouse and keyboard. He’s set and in the zone.

The game is well into play when the familiar chime of his phone goes off. It’s a Tinder notification—he can tell by the sound. He can’t help but roll his eyes, wondering what sort of boring conversation he’s meant to have with a girl who will probably ghost him, anyway.

He lazily lifts his phone and glances at the notification, before dropping it back to the desk.

His hand freezes on his mouse as he finally comprehends what he just read.

He just matched with YOU.

His best friend.

His secret, lifelong crush.

He sputters something into the microphone and stops recording his game, wildly grasping for the phone and unlocking it.

YN: 😂😂😂😂 is your bio a Minecraft pickup line?!

He pauses, attempts to collect his thoughts, before desperately typing on his screen.

JUNGKOOK: Why? 😉😏 did it work?

You spend the rest of your night jokingly flirting with Jungkook, sending GIFs and emojis in between the silly lines you’re using on each other.

Right before you’re about to head to sleep, Jungkook sends one last message.

JUNGKOOK: What if we went on a date lolol. Haha jk. Unless?? 👀👀👀

Your thumbs hover over the keys to your phone.

A date with Jungkook? Even though you matched with him, you’ve never thought of a date with your childhood best friend.

YN: alright, it’s only fair since we matched 😝 show me how you treat these tinder ladies

“I have a date with Jungkook tonight,” you tell your brother, Namjoon, over the phone.

Over the crying of your newborn niece, you hear Namjoon splutter in confusion.

“You what!?” He nearly screams. “Jeon Jungkook? Like... the annoying kid you’ve been friends with since fourth grade?”

You huff.

“He’s not annoying! He’s my best friend. We ironically matched on Tinder and… Well, why the fuck not? Nothing serious is going to happen. We’ll go out and have a story to tell about how incompatible we are.”

Namjoon doesn’t reply. Instead, you hear him speak to his husband.

“She’s going on a date with Jungkook,” he says over the muffle of his hand on the receiver.

There’s a shuffle, and the dulcet voice of your brother-in-law, Jimin, comes over the line.

“Girl,” he starts. “What the fuck?”

You chuckle as you move about your closet, trying to decide what’s appropriate to wear on a date with your best friend.

“It’s nothing!”

“Mm-hmm,” Jimin tuts. “You know the boy is in love with you.”

“Okay, Chim, you’ve been spending too much time cooped up with my brother. It’s affecting your grip on reality.”

“Sure, honey. I just tell it like it is. Don’t break his heart.”

You roll your eyes.

“I won’t break his heart because there’s nothing there, Jimin.”

“I’ll be expecting your call later.”

“Yes, dad. Love you guys.”

“We love you too, sweetheart. But really, don’t break that poor boy’s heart.”

You open your mouth to retort yet another reassurance that there’s nothing to break, but the line goes dead.

“Fucking Jimin,” you mutter as you throw your phone to the bed.

You can’t allow yourself to think that Jungkook might have feelings for you. It’s totally out of the questions. He’s your best friend. The guy who shoves Cheetos up his nose to make you laugh and falls asleep during every movie night with his face in the popcorn bowl. He’s just Jungkook. This date is just a funny way to hang out.

So, why do you care so much about what you wear?

You’re still standing in front of your closet, attempting to find something respectable to wear. It doesn’t matter that the last time Jungkook saw you; it was with mascara streaming down your face and a hoodie from Namjoon’s college swimming days and ripped leggings. Jungkook has seen you in nearly everything you wear, so your indecisiveness gives you pause.

Do you want Jungkook to be attracted to you? Do you want to do your best to look as presentable as you would for a normal date?

The thudding of your heart tells you that maybe you’re more interested in this being a date than you’re allowing yourself to believe.

You shake all thoughts off.

No, you won’t allow yourself to overthink a night that should just be fun.

You settle for a fitted and simple summer dress, tights and heels. Simple, easy, respectable but also showing enough cleavage and sculpt of your ass to ensure you look more dressed up than not.

Perfect.

With one last look in the mirror, you’re ready.

JUNGKOOK: I’m outside!

ME: See you soon!

Jungkook taps his foot anxiously as he sits on the bench outside your apartment. His tight black jeans feel like a second skin on his legs, and the black button-down shirt he’s tucked in makes him rethink his choice of outfit.

Is he too casual?

He’s never really worn something like this around you. This is what Jungkook wears when he wants to seduce. This is what every girl he’s desperately wished was you got to see. The girls who swooned over his messy hair, the way his jeans display his toned thighs, the peek of skin at his throat.

Maybe it’s too much.

Maybe he’s afraid he’ll scare you away.

Maybe he’s afraid you won’t like it.

He’s given no chance to ruminate anymore because you’re exiting the building and walking straight towards him.

He doesn’t think he remembers how to breathe.

It’s as if you walk towards him in slow motion. Angels chorus around him and the setting sun sparkles on your face like a spotlight. There’s nothing in the world anymore, nothing but you.

You’re the most beautiful human he’s ever seen in his life.

“Hi,” you smile as you approach him.

He continues to stare, eyes traveling over the soft curves of your cheeks and jaw, trailing down to the way your dress clings just right to each dip of your body. His throat goes dry.

You are without a doubt the girl of his dreams.

“Jungkook?”

It pushes him out of his reverie, eyes widening as he realizes he’s been staring at you for maybe a few minutes too long to play off as normal.

“Hey!” He coughs, attempting to right himself.

“You okay?” You ask, eyebrow lifted in concern.

“Yeah! Yup! Totally! I’m okay—a-okay, absolutely great.” He internally slaps himself.

“You clean up nice,” you smile as your eyes elevate up and down the lean form of his body.

“Oh?” He asks, taken aback.

In his daze, he never even realized what you’re thinking about him, rather only how intensely he was thinking about you.

“This must be the Jungkook that all the girls in college couldn’t stop begging me to hook them up with.”

His cheeks flame with sudden embarrassment, hand moving to the back of his neck to rub it awkwardly.

“Ha, yeah,” he swallows. “You look r-really nice too. I don’t think I’ve seen you in a dress since your brother’s wedding.”

The smile that he’s rewarded with nearly knocks him on his ass. “Thanks! It’s fun to dress up cute again. Jin hated this dress.”

A stab of pain eeks its way into Jungkook’s heart. Seokjin. God, how he hates that man.

“Well, uh, you can wear whatever you want with me!” He assures.

You loop your arm around Jungkook’s, saddling up to his side as you look at him expectantly.

“Well, are we going?”

Jungkook can’t help but smile at the sparkle in your eye, the way you peer up at him with those soft, cherry lips. He wants to capture them with his own, kiss you until you don’t remember Seokjin’s name ever again.

But he resists.

“Let’s go!”

You never thought you’d admit it to yourself. You never even thought it could happen.

But the date is everything you’ve ever wanted, and more.

Jungkook is still Jungkook, still just as silly and easy to talk to as he always is.

But he’s also charming. Flirtatious, even. He holds doors open for you; he rests his hand on the small of your back as he guides you towards your table at dinner. He feeds you bites of his dessert and lets his eyes linger on the way your lips look wrapped around his fork.

Jungkook treats you the way you’ve always wanted to be treated. Like someone he wants to cherish for the rest of your combined lives. Someone he wants to take care of, build a future with, enjoy life with.

And as much as it thrills you, it absolutely frightens you.

It’s when you’re walking down the small river trail together that Jungkook slips his hand into yours and laces your fingers together. The once-steady beat of your heart becomes erratic. He continues chatting—as if holding your hand was a subconscious act for him. He’s knee deep in a story of his Minecraft server when you stop walking, causing him to pause.

“What’s up?” He asks curiously.

Your eyes glitter with anticipation, with fear, as you stare at the gorgeous man before you. He looks like a full course meal in his tight jeans and he makes you feel like a princess. You can suddenly see doing life by his side—no longer his platonic best friend, but as his lover and lifelong partner.

You say nothing. Instead, you simply close the space between you two by grabbing the buttons of his shirt and tugging his lips onto yours.

“Wha—oh, mmmmmm.”

Jungkook is still for a second as he battles the surprise, but jumps into action and cups your face with his hands, deepening the kiss by pushing his tongue past your lips and swirling it around your own.

Your bodies press close together. He can feel your breasts against his chest and he desperately wants to rip the dress off your body and worship you like he’s always wanted to.

As soon as the kiss started, it’s over. You’re pulling away with eyes wide with fear.

“I’m sorry, I—I need to go,” you stammer awkwardly.

Jungkook’s heart drops to his stomach.

“What? We were going to get ice cream?”

You can feel tears building in the corners of your eyes. You’re so confused, so unsure of what you’re feeling. You want to stay and kiss Jungkook until you’re clawing at the clothing on his body, pressing kisses to the firm column of his neck. You want to run far away, too scared to admit it to him you’re sure you could love him for the rest of his life.

You can’t lose that friendship. You can’t risk everything you love about Jungkook. He’ll only hurt you the way every boyfriend ever has.

“I don’t really feel well,” you swallow hard as you lie. Jungkook always knows when you’re lying.

His body stiffens.

“Okay, let me walk you home.”

You shake your head, already moving away from the man.

“It’s fine. We’re nearby. I’ll just run or something.”

He opens his mouth to protest, but you’ve already turned face and started running the direction away from him.

Jungkook watches, misty-eyed, as the girl of his dreams runs further and further away from him.

You’re sobbing as you finally reach home, out of breath and confused. The phone call to Namjoon is quick.

“Yo,” he says cooly as he answers the phone. His tone changes when he hears your whimpering sobs on the other end.

“Joonie,” you whisper. “I fucked up.”

“Oh god,” Namjoon quickly shuffles and calls his husband over, before putting the phone on speaker.

“What’s happened, baby?” Jimin’s sweet voice asks.

“I—I kissed him,” you sob, holding yourself close in the comfort of the elevator.

Namjoon and Jimin look at each other with knowing looks.

“We’re on our way over.”

Jimin knows the first order of business is to stop the crying. He places sleeping baby Jisoo in your arms, which quiets your whimpers enough as you cling to the tiny baby. He knows your weakness is sleeping babies.

Namjoon looks on anxiously, hates seeing his little sister upset and with no way to make it better.

Jimin’s been asked to take the lead on this, because he knows his husband's response is to cry as well—he gets emotional anytime he sees her cry. Namjoon agreed, knowing Jimin was better suited for the conversation.

“Tell us what happened,” Jimin asks quietly. You’re rocking the baby gently, sobs turned to sniffles. “Did something go wrong on the date?”

Your eyes peer up at your brother-in-law’s, a wounded look that makes Jimin feel sad. Namjoon clenches beside him, and Jimin lays a hand on his lap to soothe the protective brother.

“No,” you whisper. “That’s the thing. It was an amazing date.”

Jimin watches you curiously, but remains silent to let you continue.

“We had dinner, and we played arcade games and we walked around. And he was so… fuck, he was perfect. It was like dating the guy of my dreams.”

Jimin nods knowingly.

“And it surprised you how much you liked him.”

“Yeah,” you sniffle. “At the end, he was holding my hand and just talking about normal, stupid Jungkook shit, but this time it felt like more. Like, I felt in my heart that I wanted to be the one he always talked to about it. I wanted to be the one he came home to at night.”

Jimin pats your cheek lovingly, the care for his sister-in-law clear in his gaze.

“You don’t just like him, honey. I think you might even love him.”

You pull baby Jisoo tighter into your grasp and nod, pathetic tears slipping down your face.

“I just left him. Like, I ran away from him like an asshole.”

Namjoon grunts and takes a spot next to Jimin. “If he loves you, which I’m sure he does, he’ll still be waiting for you.”

Jimin nods and rests a hand on his husband's back. “But you better have one hell of an apology.”

Jungkook doesn’t answer your phone calls. He doesn’t respond to your texts, snapchats or Instagram DM’s. He doesn’t even look at the TikToks you sent him! It’s becoming infuriating to get in touch with him.

You take matters into your own hands and storm to his apartment after work, the rising tension in your shoulders and stomach full of rocks an indicator of your anxiety about the future of this relationship.

Jungkook opens the door wearing nothing but a pair of grey sweats. All the carefully crafted words exit your mind at light

speed and you’re left gasping, wide-eyed at the chiseled body of your best friend.

“Can I help you?” He asks, tone flat.

Ouch.

You push past him into the apartment you know so well. “Yeah, you could start by answering your phone.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes and closes the door, then heads back towards the large gaming setup in the living room.

“My apologies for not responding to the girl who literally ran away from me on a date.”

Your cheeks heat uncomfortably as you stand in the center of his living room, arms crossed over your chest.

“Jungkook, listen. I’m—”

“Please,” he shakes his head as he sits down at the impressive gaming chair. “Save the apologies. I get it.”

“You don’t get it!” You say, exasperated. “You don’t get any of it! That’s why I’m here.”

Jungkook narrows a look at you then stands from his chair. Slowly, he makes his way towards you and stands inches from your face. The proximity of his bare, toned chest to your body makes your throat dry.

“No, you don’t get it.” His voice is threateningly quiet, completely different from his usual chipper tone.

“Jungkook, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” He quirks his head sarcastically, and you’re struck by the sharp lines of his jaw. “Sorry for running away from the date? Sorry for going on a date? Sorry for making me feel like I had a fucking chance when you kissed me?”

You swallow hard and open your mouth to reply, but he cuts you off.

“I’m sorry too. For giving myself way too much hope that this could ever be something. I’m sorry for myself for thinking you’d at least respect me enough to reject me politely.”

“You always had a chance!” You can feel tears building in your eyes and Jungkook feels his heart pound in his chest like a drum.

He scoffs, a harsh and mirthless laugh. “Clearly not.”

“I just—,” you start. “I never saw you like that before and suddenly you became everything I’ve ever dreamed of. It was like getting hit by a train, Kook! Suddenly my best friend turned into the man of my dreams.”

He shakes his head, stepping back away from you.

“I really find it hard to believe you,” he whispers. “I can’t let myself hope.”

“Jungkook, please,” you beg as tears start slipping down your face. “Please believe me.”

“Just leave,” he sighs. “I hate making you cry.”

You want so badly to wrap yourself in his arms, cry into his chest like you always do when you’re hurt. But you stand still, frozen in your shame and embarrassment of hurting your best friend so badly.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, before you spin around as quickly as you can and leave Jungkook’s apartment in a flurry.

He watches as the door slams behind you, eyes full of sadness and regret. As much as he wants to believe you, have faith in every word you said, he can’t allow himself to get his hopes up again.

He can’t watch you run away from him again.

“Welcome back to Kookie’s Wild Weekly Walkthrough!” Jungkook cheers as enthusiastically as he can through his microphone. “The weekly segment where I react to your Minecraft worlds!”

Jungkook needed to dive back into streaming to take his mind off of you. He hasn’t left his apartment in days, only subsisting on takeout and coffee. At least he was making more money and his subscribers didn’t seem to mind the up-tick in content.

“Tonight I’ll be walking through a creation sent by,” he squints at the username. “‘Kookiesgal95’ Aww that’s cute.”

He readies the content and starts his camera as he watches the YouTube link. His subscribers love his reaction videos—it’s a highly requested segment.

The video starts off easily, a generic Minecraft world that looks like a park.

“Hi Kook.”

The voice that reverberates through his headphones makes him pause the video quickly, wide-eyed with recognition.

It’s you. He’d know that voice from a million others.

Shit. He’s going to have to edit so much of this clip. He’s staring at the screen as if he’s just seen a ghost.

Unsteadily, he clicks play again and watches as you lead him through your Minecraft creation.

“I wanted to recreate something for someone very special in my life.”

Jungkook doesn’t even bother to react to this anymore. This entire video is going to be worthless—there’s nothing he can say.

The video pans around the Minecraft setup and he can see what looks like handmade swings and merry go rounds.

“It took me a really long time to do this and an embarrassing amount of help from some twelve-year-olds on the internet.”

He laughs and is stunned by the wet tears rolling down his cheeks. He hadn’t realized he was crying.

“I re-created a park that is really special to my best friend and I.”

He feels his chest tighten and relax. The park.

“This is the spot where he held me when my dog died when I was nine. I still miss that dog.”

The view is on a spot next to a blocky oak tree. Jungkook remembers that day, remembers your heartbroken sobs as he whispered words of comfort to you. He misses that dog, too.

“This is where he and my brother got in a fight when we were eleven, because my brother called me a stupid-head. My best friend has always been protective of me, even from my own big brother.”

He can still remember pushing Namjoon around after hearing him call you names. He pushed Namjoon over and threatened to use his “big muscles” if he did it again.

The camera pans to an enormous structure, rather sloppily made, of a slide and monkey bars.

“This is where we first shared a joint in high school. I coughed a lung up and he ran down the street to a gas station at ten pm to get me a bottle of water even though I told him I was okay,”

The memory of the bewildered 7-11 employee plays through his mind. The man watched as a very stoned, very out of breath, Jungkook paid for a bottle of water in coins.

The video continues playing, moves towards what appears to be a parking lot made of cobblestone blocks.

“This is where he held me when my world fell apart.”

The break-up. The way you cried and cried and cried in his arms and he held you as if you were the only thing left on Earth.

“This is where he reminded me I’m worthy of love, that I’m not broken. This is where he held me like I was delicate, but treated me like I was unbreakable.”

His tears don’t stop. Jungkook feels his heart thundering in his chest like a summer storm.

He can hear your sniffles through the recording of the video—you were crying too. It pans around to the swing set.

“And this is where I’ll tell him everything, tonight. Where I’ll tell him how deeply I love him and how I want to make him the happiest guy in the world. In all of Minecraft and beyond. I hope he comes.”

Jungkook doesn’t even bother turning his camera off.

Instead, he’s running to change out of his three-day-old clothes and bolt out the door.

The creaky, rusty metal of the swing set is deafeningly loud in the silence of your park.

It’s dark, just a few street lights around to illuminate the perimeter, but it’s otherwise only lit by the moon.

It’s getting cold. You shiver in your hoodie and kick at the dirt under your swing.

Maybe he didn’t see the video. Maybe he wasn’t going to show.

Maybe it was too late.

You spent hours working on the Minecraft world, staying up at all hours of the night to build and craft a poor re-creation of this park. The twelve-year-olds on Reddit had been invaluable and Namjoon definitely made fun of you for your creative assistants. But it had all been worth it.

“Fuck,” you speak out loud to no one, as you try to warm your hands in the pockets of your sweater. “It’s cold.”

“You should have brought a jacket.”

The sudden voice from behind startles you. You hop off the swing and whip around to face down the intruder.

Jungkook.

He looks so good. He’s wearing a thick coat and tight jeans. Your eyes take a delicious journey from head to toe.

He can’t help but preen at your blatant appreciation. He enjoys knowing you’re attracted to him, at least physically.

“You came.”

He nods and takes a nervous step towards you. He’s still far away, more than an arm's-reach away. You’re desperate to bring him closer, to pull him tight against your body and wrap yourself around him. You never want to be without his gentle touch again.

“I felt pretty compelled to come after you made all this in Minecraft for me.” He cracks a wry smile, a boy-ish grin that makes your heart flutter.

“It took me twenty-five hours and some teenagers to help.”

He laughs, a beautiful sound that warms you. “I’m sure they were ecstatic to help.”

You chew at the inside of your cheek, nervous at what he thinks about your in-game confession.

“Did you mean it?” He asks. He steps closer—one more step.

“Every word.”

His eyes are searching yours for the truth, desperately diving into the depths for validity.

“Why did you run away?” Another step.

You swallow hard, heavy tears brimming in your eyes.

“You went from being the silly best friend to being the person I could spend the rest of my life with. It all hit me. It’s always been you.”

One more step and now he’s just within your reach. If you stuck your hand out, your fingers would graze the soft puff of his coat, the delicate skin of his neck.

“I’ve always felt that way about you. I never thought you’d feel the same.”

You smile softly, timidly. “It just took me a little while longer to realize it.”

All at once, Jungkook closes the gap and holds you gently by your cheeks. His thumbs wipe at the moisture under your eyes.

“I promise to never make you cry again,” he whispers reverently.

“And I promise to never run away from you again.”

Jungkook smiles at that, cradling your face like you’re the most expensive and precious jewel.

“Can I kiss you again?” He asks, somewhat unsure of himself.

“I would like it if you would.”

As Jungkook presses his cold, plush lips to your own, you make a promise to yourself to never go a day without kissing him again.

“I can’t believe you’re in my bedroom,” Jungkook murmurs as he kisses at your face. After the park, Jungkook loaded you into his priceless Nissan and scurried home. You could hardly keep your hands off him as he drove you back to his place—reaching and caressing the spots on his body you’re dying to become familiar with.

“I’ve been in your bedroom before,” you remind him as he tugs up the hoodie you’re wearing.

“God, don’t be so semantic when I’m trying to fuck you,” he says before throwing the hoodie to a corner of the room. “You know what I mean.”

Jungkook kisses you again, all lips and teeth and tongue. He kisses you like you’re the last breath of air, and he’s greedy for every bit. He grips your hips, not too tight, and brings your body against his. You can feel him grow in hardness in his too tight, and it feels like bliss.

Teasingly, you grind your hips against his, making him shudder with desire.

“I want you,” he whines as he nibbles at your lip.

“Really? I couldn’t tell.”

He opens his eyes to level a look at you, pulling his mouth away from yours.

“You’re such a little smartass.”

His hands become feverish on your jeans, tugging apart the button and flicking down the fly. He pushes them down quickly, and you kick them off carelessly.

He can’t stop looking at you in your bra and panties, standing at the foot of his bed.

“Holy shit, okay, this is happening, right? Like, this is real?”

You smirk, pleased with Jungkook’s obvious excitement.

“Let me prove it’s not just a dream.”

Softly, you spin Jungkook around and push him down to sit on his bed. He complies easily, eyes wide and excited.

“If this is a dream, would you be able to feel this?” You ask as you unbuckle his belt and open his jeans. He doesn’t reply, simply watches you as you tug his jeans down to his thighs.

His cock strains hard against his tight boxers, and you run a teasing finger over the obvious bulge.

“Oh fuck,” he breathes.

“Feels pretty real, huh?”

“Y-yeah.”

Your delicate hands gently tug at the waistband of his boxers and easily work them down enough to free the length of his cock. It springs out easily and your eyes widen at the impressive size. You assumed he would be at least average, but you’re looking at something definitely more.

“Oh wow,” you whisper. “You’re fucking huge.”

Jungkook grins. “All for you, baby.” The cockiness is palpable.

One solid grip around him wipes the presumptuous smile off his face, replaced with a gasping, shuddering moan.

“How about this? Not a dream?”

He struggles to find his voice, instead he’s gulping for air like a fish out of water.

“That’s what I thought,” you whisper before settling into a position on your knees. “I’ll admit, I’ve dreamt about this too. I always felt so ashamed for dreaming about sucking my best friend's cock.”

You press soft kisses to the head of his length, teasing the sensitive areas at the tip before kissing up and down the length.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

His evident desire for you encourages you, and your tongue swipes at the crown of his tip and swirls around it gently.

“Oh my god.” His eyes shutter closed and you trace the veins in his dick with your tongue.

“This h-has to be a dreeeaaaaam,” he whines as you make an exceptionally long stripe with the flat of your tongue.

You pull off for a moment, humming. He springs his eyes open and watches as you reach behind your back and unsnap your bra. Your breasts escape with a bounce and his eyes widen, nearly bulging out of their sockets.

“What the fuck,” he whines. “You have the most amazing tits.”

He reaches out to grasp them and you slap them away playfully.

“Not yet,” you smirk. “Still trying to convince you you’re not asleep.”

He sucks in his breath and puts his hands back to the bed to steady himself, eyes never leaving yours (except to stare at the luscious curves of your body).

Grasping your breasts in both hands, you smash them together lightly in an elaborate show of what Jungkook wants most. You lean over his body and place the throbbing thickness of his cock in between your tits, allowing him to feel just how soft and warm they are.

“Shit!” He yelps, grabbing his sheets in a tight fist. “Are you really tit-fucking me right now?!”

Slowly, you lift your body up and down, allowing his cock to feel each stroke of your breasts. You nod at his question and continue to pump up and down.

“Still dreaming?”

He whines and shakes his head, already feeling so close to the edge. His cock is slick from your teasing licks and the pressure of your tits surrounding him had his mind spinning with desire.

“Ahhh, I’m so fucking close,” he warns.

You continue, speeding up the friction and pressure of your strokes.

“I want you to cum on me, Kook,” you whisper encouragingly. “Cum on my tits, please?”

Jungkook feels like he’s a wire about to snap, and your thick, sultry voice and incredibly perfect breasts are the snips that breaks him apart.

“Oh, shit,” he grunts. “Gonna paint your titties white, baby.”

His moans echo around the walls of his bedroom, small gasps of pleasure and your name escaping his perfectly plump pout.

His hot load splatters on your chest, and you stroke him through each pulse of his cock. You’re slippery with his seed now, and when you pull away from his spent length, you make a show of rubbing in his cum over your chest.

“Okay, definitely not dreaming,” he says in a daze as he watches you lift a wet finger to your mouth, popping it in to clean it off. “Who knew you were so fucking kinky?”

His confidence grows as he catches his breath. He can’t believe he’s sitting on his bed with you on your knees, breasts covered in his load. You’re suckling the cum off your finger like it’s his cock, and he’s desperate for more.

“There are lots of things you don’t know about me,” you shrug.

Swiftly, he grabs you gently by your bicep and pulls you close, sucking at your lips until you’re both standing.

“I plan to find out everything.”

Suddenly, you’re switching positions and Jungkook is pushing you down into the bed. You lay flat in the center, body relaxed and eager for your best friend.

“What are you doing?” You ask. He’s still standing at the end of the bed, watching you get comfortable. Once he’s satisfied that you’re lying exactly how you want, he settles himself by your feet.

“Worshipping you,” he says as he lifts an ankle and presses gentle kisses to your calf. “Showing you how much I adore you.” More kisses, soft and sweet. “Showing you how I plan on treating you for the rest of your life.”

He takes his time, lavishing your legs with his mouth. He kisses and sucks at any spot, sexual or not. He mouths at the roundness of your knees, your firm hamstrings. He presses his love into the skin of your thighs, mouthing his praises with each kiss.

He reaches the dip of your hips and he gently kisses your exposed skin as he tugs your cotton panties off you.

“I have loved every inch of you since before I can remember,” he praises as his lips skim over the mound of your cunt. “And I don’t plan on stopping soon.”

Your body feels like it’s on fire, as if Jungkook lights a match at every spot his lips press against. Your eyes close, and you allow Jungkook to continue his pious worship of your body.

He teases around your folds, kissing your labia ever so gently—making you gasp. He doesn’t linger long, only kisses you enough to stir the licking flames of heat in your belly.

He kisses at your stomach, gently nibbling and laving at the softness there. You try to hide from him, try to hide your insecurities of your body in his thorough exploration, but he moves your hands.

“I know you don’t like this part of your body,” he murmurs. His voice is so soft, so pure and sincere. “But I do. I love everything about you.”

His tongue swirls around your belly button, making you gasp at the ticklish sensation.

“You’re so pretty. So perfect.”

He continues upwards, lips now trailing to your full breasts. He takes his time there, licking and kissing and flicking at your nipples with his tongue. It feels exhilarating—Jungkook’s mouth feels like everything you want it to feel like. His tongue is warm, and he bites with just enough pressure to make your back arch off the bed into his embrace.

His hands explore, taking stock of every millimeter of skin he can find. He wants to memorize every freckle, every bump, every scar and line. Your body is his paradise, and all he can think of is you, you, you.

One hand travels down your body as he moves his lips up your neck. It snakes down your stomach and deftly slides over your soaked core. You whine as you feel his fingers part your folds and dip into the wetness.

“So wet,” he says out loud, verbalizing every tantalizing detail of your body. “So perfect.”

His lips are finally at your own and you kiss him passionately, tongue swirling around his as he slides his two fingers past your clit and into your drenched hole. You gasp against his mouth, eyes widening as he slowly scissors his fingers into you and pumps slowly. It’s almost teasing, the way he fucks his fingers in you. Slow, firm movements with his powerful hands.

“Jungkook!” You gasp. He doesn’t reply, instead he bites at your lip and tugs, then trails his hot mouth back down to your nipples. He can’t get enough of your breasts and the slightly salty taste of him still lingering.

“You feel so good,” he says as he speeds his fingers up minutely. “So tight and wet for me.”

Your hips writhe in need. He’s giving you what you need, but not enough. You need more, more. You want to feel him, all of him, spearing you open.

“Please, Kook,” you groan. “I need you.”

He laughs softly against your nipple and sucks extra hard, letting it pop out of his mouth audibly.

“And I need you, my love.”

“Fuck me, please.” You’re desperate, thighs quaking from the slow teasing. “I want you to fuck me, Jungkook.”

Chills shudder down Jungkook’s spine and he’s powerless to say no, not when you demand it so well.

“With pleasure,” he agrees. He pulls his fingers from within you and copies your move, sliding them into his mouth to suck your essence off.

He’s never looked sexier. His eyes are dark chocolate pools of burning intensity, and you feel your breath become shaky as you watch him clean his fingers with precision.

After he’s deemed his fingers sufficiently clean, he settles himself between your legs. Easily, he lifts your hips and shoves a pillow underneath, elevating you to a more comfortable position. He grabs your legs and tosses each over his shoulders so they’re higher in the air.

“I’m going to fuck you so good, baby,” he promises as he rubs the tip of his cock on your soppy slit. “Condom?”

You shake your head, appreciative of his question but desperate to feel him completely.

“Birth control. Regularly tested. Haven’t had sex in a while,” you blurt out. “You good?”

He nods in agreement. “Same. Well, except the birth control. But, I’d take it if they made it for men.”

“Jungkook!” You whine. Your best friend is so easily sidetracked. “Please, can you fuck me?”

He grins. “Tsk, someone is impatient.”

A low moan is rumbling in your chest as he continues to rub his thick cock at your entrance.

“I swear to god, you’re the biggest tease.”

“Oh, I’m definitely the biggest.”

Before you can react, he’s pushing past your entrance and sliding deep in your walls. Your position makes his cock feel deep, and he bottoms out and stills there, eyes closed in bliss.

“Holy shit,” he gasps. “This is absolutely the best pussy I’ve ever felt.”

You wiggle your hips as you get used to the sensation of the delicious stretch.

“Please don’t tell me how many pussies you’ve felt when you’re balls deep inside of me.”

Jungkook turns his head and kisses at your legs resting on his shoulders, lavishing them with his praise once more as he keeps his cock buried inside your tight heat.

“Yours is the only one that matters. The only pussy I’ll ever be in for the rest of my life.”

“That’s a good answer,” you smile. “Now, fuck me, lover boy.”

Jungkook winks and grips your hips with his hands. He swiftly pulls out, enamored with the way his cock is already covered in your creamy essence, then eagerly pushes back in. He sets a pace and soon the sound of skin clapping on skin echoes around the room.

“Oh god!” You’re moaning loudly, unabashedly. You’re thankful that Jungkook’s old roommate, Yoongi, moved out to live with his boyfriend Hoseok months ago. He’d definitely complain about the noise for months. “Fuck, Jungkook, you feel so good.”

Jungkook fucks into you with ferocity, speed and power gradually rising as he feels his core tighten with the coming anticipation of release.

“Mmm, you look so fucking sexy like this,” he murmurs. “Getting fucked by your best friend’s fat cock.”

He moves a hand from your hip, trails it up your body to squeeze at your breast, before he’s cupping your face once again. His hips snap against yours and he loves the way your mouth utters little squeaks and gasps with each deep thrust into you.

“God, my beautiful girl,” he groans. “Can’t wait to cum in this pussy, shit, you got me so fucking close.”

You open your mouth desperately and Jungkook easily slips his thumb in. You latch on quickly and suck, tongue swirling around the tip like you’re sucking another cock. It nearly sends him over the edge and the speed of his hips matches his desperate need for more.

“Fucking hell,” he bites back. He can feel his belly tighten, driven further and further to the edge by the constricting wetness of your cunt.

He pulls his thumb out and moves it down to where his cock spears into you, allowing your spit to swirl with his thumb around your clit. Your core tightens around him at the added stimulation and your back arches up in ecstasy.

“I’m so c-close, Kook,” you plead, as if begging for mercy. “Please, I want to cum so bad.”

The speed of his thumb increases, and he watches as your face twists in pleasure and desperation.

“Cum on my cock, baby, let me see you fall apart. Show me what I’ve dreamt of for so long.”

A high and wanton cry ripples out of your body as he savagely increases his speed, both his cock and thumb working overtime to drive you towards your end. The butterflies that erupt in your lower stomach make your moans louder, higher. You’re so close, closer than ever. It’s building to an incredible crescendo.

He can tell you’re close—he sees it on your face as your back arches and your fists grip his sheets.

“You look like a fucking angel, baby,” he whines as he soaks in the vision of you writhing underneath him. “I bet you cum like an angel, too. Let me see it, let me see.”

With just a few more swirls of his thumb and his deep, hard strokes, you’re soaring over the edge into a pool of nothingness. Your cunt pulsates wildly around his length, milking and stroking it with your tight walls. You throw your head back, moaning out his name at the top of his lungs, letting his neighbors know just who fucks you so well.

“Holy shit,” he gasps, hips stuttering as he fucks into your juicy hole. “That was so fucking sexy.”

You grip his forearms, holding onto him tight and encourage him to go harder. “Cum inside me, Kookie, please. I’m all yours, make me yours.”

His heart feels like it might burst in his chest. He’s always wanted you to say it to him, to hand over your love to him like he does so easily to you. It’s all so much, so overwhelming, and the feeling of your hot cunt still fluttering around him sends him reeling into his own completion.

He spills into you, warm seed coating your walls and pooling inside your womb. He fucks himself through each throb of his cock until he’s sure he’s drained every ounce of himself into you.

Your legs slip off his shoulders easily, and he gently pulls himself out of you. He falls beside you, panting with exertion, and wraps an arm around you.

After a few silent moments of catching your breath, Jungkook pulls you in close to him until he can koala-cling to you, arms and legs both wrapped around your body.

“Mine,” he whispers as he kisses your head. “All mine.”

You return the favor, clinging to your best friend—boyfriend—like he’s your only lifeline.

“All yours.”

“So, you’re telling me, you got together because of Minecraft?” Jimin asks, pointing a fork in your direction. It’s been months now since your grand virtual declaration of love for Jungkook. Months of bliss and romance, laughter and companionship.

You were right all along. Jungkook is everything you’ve wanted in a man and more.

You’re sitting at your brother’s expensive dinner table, enjoying a meal with his family with your boyfriend at your side.

“Yeah, Jimin, I guess that’s what I’m saying,” you retort as you roll your eyes. “Minecraft and Tinder.”

Baby Jisoo is awake and in your brother’s arms, but she’s whining and wiggling to leave him.

“What’s wrong, Soo?” Namjoon asks with a pout on his lips. “Why don’t you want daddy anymore?”

Jimin snorts at his husband and you hold out your arms for your baby niece. “Come here, baby, I know you want auntie.”

Namjoon dutifully hands over his daughter, sulking that he’s been picked over for his sister.

You cradle the baby in your arms, expecting her to calm once she’s there, but she continues to fuss. She’s thrusting her arms out and nearly crying, reaching towards Jungkook who’s busy chowing down on Jimin’s homemade ramen.

“I think she wants you, Kook,” you murmur. He looks at you, then to the baby, then back to you, before he wipes his hands and face clean with a napkin.

“Oh, okay,” he whispers, slowly taking the baby from your arms with your help. “Hello, ma’am.”

Namjoon and Jimin laugh. “She’s a baby, Jungkook, not an elderly woman,” your brother teases.

Jungkook doesn’t listen. He’s too busy cooing at the baby in his arms and playing with her tiny hands. Namjoon turns his attention away and looks at you.

“Guess I won’t be the only provider of grandchildren for much longer.”

You playfully glare at him and turn away to watch your boyfriend. Watching Jungkook interact with your niece makes your heart swell, your soul sing. He’d be a perfect father.

“I swear, if he teaches her how to play Minecraft, he’s banned from the household,” Jimin grumbles. “This is a No-Nerd-Zone.”

Jungkook cradles the child and rocks back and forth, singing her a soft, made-up song, before he looks over at you.

“Hey, I want one of these,” he smiles. “Can we have one?”

You lay a hand on your stomach, a soft bump not quite visible yet. It’s only been one test, the lines faintly indicating ‘positive’ on the stick. You wanted to make sure, get confirmation before you spill the beans.

“Sure, Kookie.”

He grins and leans over to kiss you, before turning his attention back to the baby. “Okay, Jisoo, now let me tell you all about the Endermen.”

Jimin groans. “Oh my god, do not give Minecraft facts to my infant!”

tag list - @giadalin @nohayarcoirissintormenta @pjmislovely @xhazmania @marcoazam2 @eggbutnotyolk @feel-the-sunset @unicornbabylover @aretha170 @jeonmisha @hordanhearsawhooo

#bts smut #jungkook smut #bts fic #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook #ficswithluv #jjk smut #bts fics #jjk fic #jungkook fic

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christinebloodwrittings · 2 years

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can i request dom preisident loki w fem reader, getting overprotective of her around other avengers, getting possessive around them and holding her closer to him, but also when theyre alone hes soft and goofy??

You ask, I write! thank you so much for your request!

Alright! President Loki is in the house!

*My requests are open*

Pairing: Dom!President Loki x Fem!Reader

Summary: It's all fun and games, until you touch what belongs to the wrong person.

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, lightly toxic (in my opinion).

Loki taglist: @lokisprettygirl22 @lucky-foxface @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore @high-functioning-lokipath @thereadinggeek @el-zef @apine7 @beakami @lokiprompts @llaufeysondggerxx

Two sides of a coin

“Good morning, my dearest” you stirred under the silky covers as you heard your boyfriend’s voice. “Mornin’” you wore a silly smile after seeing Loki’s face, it turned into a grin after he kissed your lips. “I made breakfast, it’s ready for you” he caressed your face with one hand, leaving a kiss on your forehead, your lips, and your neck as he spoke.

“Wait, you’re leaving?” he chuckled watching you pout, “I have to work, earth isn’t going to rule itself darling” it did before he arrived, but you couldn’t deny he had a point when he said that humanity was taking the planet to its destruction – which was one of his statements in his campaign speech–.

“I’m going to pick you up from the compound later though, we’re going out tonight” he kissed – more like ate – your lips, making you let out a couple moans and sighs, “You spoil me, my love” you giggled, one of his hands tickled your side, a mischievous smile adorning his face, “I love to” one final kiss brought your hands to go through his shoulders, pulling him down so your bare chest was against his soft suit, “Later, my love, I’ll see you for dinner” you could’ve brushed his hair, but you weren’t allowed to, at least not in the mornings when he had to make public appearances, you miss that.

“Good girl” he caressed the valley between your breasts lovingly, admiring your features either like something precious or delicious. “I love you” you breathed after his warmth left your body, he murmured his response and then in a flash of green he disappeared.

“I love you too, my dearest” he texted, several heart stickers followed, which warmed your heart and pushed you out of bed in the best way.

‘Vote for Loki!' You watched all the banters and pins that availed his campaign adorning the streets still, it had been a year since he made his first appearance, there were so many changes since he came to be president of the planet, you figured people just forgot to throw a few posters out.

“Mr. Laufeyson, what assures us that the incidents of 2012 won’t be replicated?” you asked as a fake reporter in behalf of S.H.I.E.L.D, “Is my word not enough for you miss?” he chuckled, “It’s not, sir, people are still recovering from the latest war, the one that got you here in the first place” Loki wasn’t happy with your attitude, he saw a brat that needed to be taught a lesson.

“Would you like to be the one to ensure that it doesn’t happen?” he seemed serious, and he was, the next day his manager proposed you a place in his council but you refused. He continued sending his manager in a poor attempt to lure you to stand by his side, until he showed up himself on your doorstep, flowers in hand and an invitation to dance. After a few drinks, he pulled you by the arm and danced with you all night, you somehow felt…connected to him.

You fell for his charm, his ambition, how he saw the world. He brought you a weird sense of peace, he liked to handle things his own way, so you hardly had to do anything. Then he talked about an option, he wanted you to become his submissive, be his to manage, to love and to have.

And you were ok with it.

He still wanted you to work with him, unfortunately you felt weird about it, so he reluctantly allowed you to have your independence.

That didn't stop him from buying S.H.I.E.L.D and leaving his assistant as the one in charge of authorizing the missions. You weren't at all surprised given his character and you didn't have the energy to discuss it either, you knew you weren't going to get anywhere so you just ignored him. But your fellow agents were fed up with him.

"Good morning Nat! how are you?" you walked into the avengers compound, and on the couch watching the news was the redhead drinking coffee waiting for a mission.

"Your boyfriend did it again" pointed to the news, Loki was proposing another controversial idea that is going to attract snipers.

"We're going to have to protect his ass again" Barton appeared and hugged you by the shoulders, "Do you know anything about this?" you denied, "He doesn't talk about work with me."

The last mission was to prevent a horde of aliens from entering the white house, their target being Loki, obviously. The good thing is that they were able to kill everyone, however, his assistant was only in charge of covering up the mission, since it was not authorized.

“How many do you think will come for him this time?" Barton shrugged and patted you gently on the back, "I have no idea, but we'll have to be ready when they call” you agreed with a sigh.

After a long day of organizing paperwork and filling out emails responding to civilian claims, it was finally six o'clock, time to go down to the reception and wait for Loki.

"Dwarf!" Bucky exclaimed from far down the hall, "James!" you ran to him then jumped into his arms, "I've missed you" you and bucky were mission partners before he went on his journey to redeem himself, the two of you were unstoppable, the ultimate combination of strength and agility.

"How are you Y/n?" Steve hugged you from behind, crushing you against Bucky like a sandwich, "Captain! How the years go by!" you joked, "Y/n don't bother the old man" you three were laughing and teasing each other when suddenly you were pulled flush against someone’s chest.

“Y/n” It was Loki, wearing a devilish smile and a new suit, “Good evening Mr. President” Steve greeted politely with a hint of sarcasm, “Captain, Sargent, good evening indeed” his grasp on your hip didn’t loosened up one bit.

“My love what are you doing up here? You always wait for me in the lobby” you were concern about how tense his jaw was, and his neck vein threatening to pop, “I waited, but you were taking your sweet time, so I got worried” He wrapped his arm around your waist completely, all while making eye contact with Bucky, assuring his dominance, like wolves.

“She’s with us, so you hardly have to be concerned” Steve interfered the tension, hardly making the situation better.

“Au contraire Rogers, my girl with the Winter Soldier, the things he could do to her, makes my skin crawl” Loki pulled you back unexpectedly, making you gasp. “She’s safe with me” Bucky tried to get close to you, but Loki let go of your waist to grab hold of your arm, “I’ll be the judge of that, if you excuse us”.

He dragged you all the way to the elevator, you had to mouth a brief “I’m sorry” to your friends, sadly, that was just Loki’s normal behavior. He’s jealous, possessive and over protective.

“Why you always do that?” you broke the silence after a ten minute drive, at least he was driving and not his assistant, “I'm protecting you, that's my duty” you scoffed, “Those are my friends Loki; you can't be jealous of everyone I meet” he didn’t even looked at you, “I'm not jealous, I just don't want people to touch what's mine, especially those lowlifes” ‘what’s mine’ he always referred to you like an object, so you dropped on him a bomb.

“Those lowlifes are the reason I was able to come back from the last mission” you thought he would be affected by that fact, “Is their duty, otherwise I'll kill them and close the program” but his words were so cold.

“Why you change so much? You flip completely when you’re with me and when you’re with them” he didn’t even showed you as the first lady, or brag about you at all, “I’m showing them their place, no one touches what’s mine” again with the objectification, “I’m a person Loki, sometimes you forget that I can just walk away”.

He laughed, he fucking laughed.

“Sure darling, sure” he mocked you.

When you got to the suite, he was behind you trying to match your steps, you were going fast so you wouldn't have to keep talking to him, "Honey, please, you can't get mad because I'm trying to protect you, you must understand" you took out the key and you were going to put it in the reader, but you stopped in your tracks and grabbed Loki by his tie.

"Get this right you knucklehead, I'm a person, I'm not your property, I'm with you because I want to be and not because of all the shit I you give me, nor the romantic dinners you arrange for me, I really love you, but you don't love me, if you did you would have noticed the stitches they gave me for the wound from the last mission, if it hadn't been for Steve, I would have returned to your arms in a casket!" he fucked you that night and he didn’t noticed, he thought your whimpers were because of pleasure, but he was grabbing your side, making the wound open again.

“Darling I…” he heard a click, but thought it was just another door opening, “I love you Loki, I truly do, but you can’t do that every time, I’m tired, so cancel dinner, I’m going to sleep in the guest room tonight” he regretted it all the moment you opened the door.

His back hit the wall at the end of the corridor, the blackout lasted a few seconds before he stood up, the whole room was on fire, “Y/n?” he stumbled on the way, but his seiðr straightened his legs and he was able to run inside, “Y/N!!” he yelled through the smoke, all he could see was a message written in red on the wall saying “You deserve this”, he didn’t took long to connect it all with his recent law project.

His seiðr took down the flames around him, there he found a trace of blood heading to his bedroom, he followed it all the way to the bathroom, where he found you wrapped up on his cape, you knew it was flame proof, “Clever girl” he sighed, his heart still beating like it wanted to push itself out of his chest, “My love, it’s safe now” he heard your faint heartbeat, otherwise he wouldn’t have been so calmed, “I’m sorry, after you wake up, I’ll prove it to you” he carried you out of the bathtub gently, even though you avoided serious damage you still got burned.

“Everything is going to be okay” he whispered in your ear before the doctors took you away, “I want all of them dead” he gave the order and Bucky nodded, “Do it for her, not for me Barnes” he needed the job to be handled, but he wanted to be with you, so Bucky was the best option, “You don’t deserve her” he commented, then he disappeared.

“I know” Loki sighed.

“Mr. President, she’s awake” the nurse accompanied him to your door, “Would you leave us alone?” she nodded as he walked in, each step feeling like shards of glass due to his guilt, “Loki” you whispered trying to smile, “Hello my queen” he carefully brought your bandaged hand to him to place a kiss, his heart fluttered when you giggled, like you did every time he kissed you like that.

“Does it hurt too much?” his Jotun nature ran through his fingers, making you sigh in comfort, “Not anymore, my love” you guided his hand up to your head, “I thought on what you said, you’re right, I’ll be better” It was your turn to laugh, “Silly king, come here” you made room for him, his head fell lightly on the pillow, “Just…love me right” he hesitated to kiss you, because of your injuries, but you draw him to you anyways for a soft kiss, “I love you, my beloved” he whispered, “I love you more, my king”.

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

Casual

Ranboo x Reader (Female)

Warnings: None, unless talking about the future counts

Genre: FLUFF, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Following the arrival of the dreadful invitation to his cousin’s wedding Ranboo turns to the only cover-up he can think of to keep his still-single status hidden from his family.

Requested by Anon. Hi darling! Thank you so much for your wonderful request! I’m so glad you sent your idea to me and I’m so glad you were my first official Ranboo request. I’m really sorry it’s taken me so long to write it but I still hope you’ll come across it and read it! Love, Vy ❤

“Heyyy, so Y/N, I have a favor to ask you...um yeah, call me back, it’s awkward sending it via voicemail. Bye“

Huh - that’s the first thought that goes through my head when I listen to the voicemail left after a missed call from my best friend Ranboo. The favors he usually asks for consist of requesting assistance for his videos in which I also appear with a mask and sunglasses to keep the brand running. I genuinely have nothing against my face being shown but when I think about it, I’m honestly a bit glad people can’t identify me.

Anyways, back to the favors, Ranboo is no stranger to asking me for them but they’ve never been considered too awkward for a voicemail which is why I’m no slightly concerned. I’ve been swamped with work for school and studies for the graduation finals for the past two weeks and it seems like I’ll never get on top of it and I know Ranboo’s been in a similar situation too, so maybe he needs help with that? He’s not used to asking help for school stuff, he sometimes even has a hard time accepting it when I openly offer it to him.

I eventually sigh, decide that playing this guessing game will not get me anywhere and settle on giving him a call as I make my way home from the gym with my legs barely putting up with the task of carrying me around.

He picks up on the second ring.

“Hey! Wh-...“

“Would you pretend to be my girlfriend for my cousin’s wedding next weekend?!“

My legs take that opportunity to stop moving in the middle of the sidewalk which is luckily void of any people at the moment. It’s not my fault my body’s first reaction was to freeze up at the question that came flying at me like an out-of-control jet, almost as though he’s been dying to say it and get it over with.

“Um...run that by me again please, I think I misunderstood.“ I say, blinking blankly as though awoken from a fever dream. No, actually as though I’m IN a fever dream right now.

“Ok, now that the cat’s out of the bag, wanna grab some coffee and talk about it face-to-face. I need to see your facial expressions to gauge what response to expect.“ He says, the previous nervousness gone and his voice calm as regularly once again.

I’m this close to face-palming but I squeeze my eyes tightly shut and bring myself to utter a reply, “Our usual spot. Be there in ten minutes.”

* * *

“No freaking way.“ I shake my head, folding my arms over my chest as I lean back in my seat in the booth we picked when we arrived. Good thing I got an iced coffee cause even a hot one would’ve gone cold by now considering I haven’t yet taken the time to have even a sip of it. I’ve been too busy listening to the long and short of the explanation and begging speech Ranboo probably made last night to try and convince me to agree to this nonsense. “Dude, we’ve been friends since middle school-...“

“Exactly! Who else was I gonna ask?“ He cuts me off, pleading gaze meeting my unimpressed one.

I huff before continuing my previous statement, “We’ve been friends since middle school so you know my opinion on weddings.” I put extra emphasis on the word ‘opinion’, giving him the clear hint at the distaste I’ve expressed on the topic multiple times before.

“And you know we’re on the same page there but there’s no way I can avoid going unless someone kidnaps me.“ He too now gets in the same stance as me, his coffee forgotten too.

I can’t help but snort out a little laugh, “I’d be more than happy to kidnap you considering the other option is far less appealing to me.“

He, of course, rolls his eyes at me as though he didn’t offer to do the same thing so I could avoid an exam but anyways. “So you’re gonna choose to fake a kidnapping that has the potential of landing you in jail over coming to eat some great food and maybe even have some fun at a wedding with your best friend? I’m hurt.“ He says, frowning to cover up the smile that’s fighting its way onto his face.

Now it’s my turn to roll my eyes, “I’d be kidnapping you, dummy...” I cut myself off to let out a long sigh and calm down before I go off at him. His smirk isn’t helping me much with the task either. I’ve known Ranboo long enough to know he’ll eventually convince me and he’s known me long enough to know how to do that exactly. With that in mind, there’s really no point in getting so worked up and wasting my energy. And so, despite my own rationality, I cave. “Fine, but I’m not staying the whole wedding.“

His eyes immediately light up and almost makes me feel the compromise was worth it. Almost. I mean, when you’ve been best friends with someone for so long, seeing them happy is worth more to you than your own comfort sometimes.

And he knows it too. Which is exactly why he outstretches his hand for me to shake and says: “Just one dance and you’re free to go. Deal?”

I take his hand without hesitations. That’s a better offer than I could’ve ever imagined. “Damn straight it’s a deal.“

* * *

“How long until you kick the heels off?“ Ranboo asks, bringing me a non-alcoholic cocktail and sitting down next to me.

I take a sip and giggle, “You kidding? I already kicked them off and replaced them with flats. I need mobility if we dance. They also lower the risk of me severing off a toe of yours if I step on you on accident.”

He laughs, clinking his glass against mine before he gets a bit more serious, “By the way, thanks for handling my family’s attack so well. I know it might’ve been a bit much but you handled it like a pro. Still, I’m sorry on their behalf.”

I shake my head and wave my hand dismissively, “Don’t mention it. I’d probably react the same way if my brother or cousin brought a date to an important family event like this.” I instinctively turn to look in the direction of where the majority of his family has gathered around, chatting with guests, smiling brightly. It’s hard not to immediately take a liking towards these people. They’ve been a second family to me ever since Ranboo and I started hanging out so I completely understand why they were so shocked to see me in the role of his ‘girlfriend’.

“I’ll tell my parents the truth later, our extended family is the ones I wanted to fool to be perfectly honest.“ He looks around as do I and we catch more than a few pairs of eyes fixated on us that turn away when they realize they’ve been spotted, “Mission accomplished by the looks of it.“

I chuckle. I’ve never felt so comfortable at a wedding before. I don’t feel stressed nor anxious despite knowing that there’s quite the number of eyes on me and there are whispers going around about my ‘relationship’ with Ranboo. It’s oddly calming and relaxing to be surrounded by some familiar and some unfamiliar faces. This cocktail is pretty great too.

Speaking of which, if it had any alcohol in it I’d blame it for the decision I’m about to make but this one’s entirely on me: I tap Ranboo with one hand while taking out my phone with the other. “If we’re already the talk of the wedding, let’s give them something to talk about.“ I say as I put up my phone, pretending to be taking a selfie leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek.

When I pull away I can clearly see that he’s still processing what just happened. I can’t help but burst out in a fit of laughter as I reach out to wipe the lipstick stain I left on his cheek. He looks like a lost, clueless puppy with the question: ‘what on Earth just happened???’ replaying in his head and it’s so freaking cute!

Wait....what was that? Since when do I use the adjective cute to describe Ranboo? Didn’t I think he looks handsome in a suit earlier too? The hell is with me today?

Then it hits me - the feeling isn’t foreign. Like, I know I’ve felt it before but I never analyzed it or even bothered to acknowledge it. But now that I do, I’m afraid of what it might be.

“There!“ I say, desperately trying to push the thoughts away along with this little firework show in my stomach, “Now you have pinker cheeks. Well, cheek, singular.“

As if snapping out of his state of confusion, he returns to Earth with a smirk, “Kiss the other to even it?”

Alright, his blush might not be even but mine now is and it’s ten times as intense and very much apparent but I don’t let the feeling shine through anything else as I proceed to actually kiss his other cheek too, wiping the lipstick stain.

“Thanks. You’re the best.” And just like that, as though it’s no big deal, he kisses my forehead.

See, that’s the thing, it shouldn’t be a big deal! It’s never been! This is far from the first time I’ve kissed him on the cheek or the first time he’s given me a forehead kiss. These are regular occurrences after years of this lovely friendship we have. Why do they feel so different now?

Then, much to my relief, the music starts and the lights turn off leaving only one spotlight for the groom and bride to have their first dance. They look absolutely astonishing and I can certainly say I’ve never before stopped to think that about any newly weds of the weddings I’ve preciously been to. I don’t know if it has something to do with the company I have for this particular wedding or it’s maybe the fact that my mindset’s changed over the years without me realizing.

Then I automatically look at Ranboo who just so happens to be looking at me too and all I can say is: my mindset hasn’t changed.

A loud applause takes over when the couple finish their dance, officially opening the dancefloor for any other pairs who’d like to occupy it and I’m happy to see how many people are eager to rush up with their partner.

Ranboo gets up, putting the glass down and offers me his hand, “So, wanna dance? Don’t take this as a sign to leave though, we said one dance and you CAN leave, not SHOULD.” He says, giving me a warning look.

I roll my eyes and am about to give him some sass right back but he takes my hand and picks me up from my seat, leading me to the dancefloor. And I gotta admit maybe it’s a good thing he did. If he left it to me I would’ve probably said no to the dance and ran the hell away. Why? - Cause I’m freaking terrified of this new mindset and point of view and these intense emotions I never used to pay any mind to before in regards to my best friend.

Friends don’t feel that way about friends. Friends don’t look at friends that way. What’s happening to me?

When I gotta look him in the eyes like this, not for the first time might I add, I can finally understand how the friends-to-lovers trope works: it’s all meaningless until it starts to mean so much to you. It’s all platonic until it reminds you of a romantic movie moment. It ‘best friends’ until it’s ‘I wish we were more than that’. It’s all casual, until it’s not.

And, unfortunately, it’s irreversible.

Damn do I wish I ran away now...

#ranboo #ranboo fanfiction #ranboo x you #ranboo fanfic #ranboo fluff #dream smp #ranboo imagine #ranboo x y/n #ranboo x reader #fic #fanfic #fanficiton #fandom #fluff #friends to lovers #x reader #request #requests open #reader

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comfortbucky · 3 years

Note

Hey! If requests are still open I was wondering if I could request a fluffy fic where reader is having a bad day and Bucky notices and cheers them up? 💗💗

HELL YEAH!!!

REQUESTS!!! ARE!!! OPEN!!!

𝘀𝗲𝗰𝘂𝗿𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝗯𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗸𝗲𝘁 ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ｡˚ ☁︎ ˚

pairing: bodyguard!bucky x fem!reader

warnings: anxiety, anxiety attack

tags: grumpy!bucky, bodyguard!bucky, fluffy bucky!!!

A/N: okay i have never written bodyguard!bucky before but i just thought it would be such a sweet concept to see him being soft🥺

sorry if the ending is kind of bad😭 i didn’t know how to quite wrap it all up, but i hope u enjoy!!!!!!!! <3 i had so much fun writing about bodyguard!bucky!!!!!

word count: 2.9k

my masterlist!

completed requests!

Y/N groaned as her phone alarm went off and hit snooze for the fifth time. She reached her hand out, head facing away and resting on her pillow, fumbling for her phone to turn off the incessant sound. Before she could shut it off, the noise stopped. Y/N turned her head slightly to see a large, dark figure in the corner of her eye. She turned her head fully to see her bodyguard with a frown on his face as he shut her alarm off.

“Your alarm, it’s annoying,” Bucky grumbled. “You should get up anyways, busy schedule today.” He walked out of the room before she could respond. Super soldier hearing was no joke if he was able to hear her alarm from his bedroom down the hall. Y/N sighed as her face planted into the pillow.

She was not looking forward to the events planned out for the day. During the day, there was a slew of interviews she had, back to back, and at night, a gala she was being forced to attend by her father.

Being the daughter of a wealthy tech tycoon had its perks for sure, but Y/N did not consider all of the press she did as a part of them. She never liked being in the spotlight but was forced to be, a birthright she had. Growing up with her dad, she’d developed a fascination for tinkering with computers, game consoles, and everything in-between. She spent a lot, practically all of her free time, with her dad when her mom had passed away. Her dad ended up throwing himself into his life’s work and she worked with him closely in the beginning, but slowly started to drift apart from him as she started to make a name for herself.

Earlier that week, her dad had sent her a text, informing her that a big announcement would be made at the gala. Big parties and large crowds weren’t really her thing, but it seemed like she didn’t have the option to avoid this one.

She got ready for the day, walking down to her kitchen to see her bodyguard, Bucky, sitting at the table, reading a book. As soon as he heard her come down the steps, he stood up and put his book away.

“C’mon, we’re already running late,” he mumbled, making his way to the door. Y/N rolled her eyes in response, grabbing a granola bar as she briskly followed behind him.

When her dad became a big name in the world of tech, the last thing Y/N thought she needed was a bodyguard, but her dad felt otherwise. It took one, very close call, of her almost getting mugged for her dad to immediately assign a personal bodyguard for her. She insisted that it was unnecessary, seeing that she was a fully grown adult, but her dad refused, as he was the one paying for Bucky’s salary.

Bucky had always been rather closed off since the beginning, and not much had changed since he was first assigned to her a little over a year ago. He kept their relationship very professional, only speaking when necessary and leaving the room whenever he wasn’t needed. She had tried to get him to open up more, learn about his past, but he always shut her questions down by either ignoring her or changing the topic to discussing something work-related. He was an enigma to her, which only left her wanting to solve the mystery that was James Bucky Barnes but couldn’t seem to crack the code.

Her first two interviews went smoothly, exactly what she was used to. A couple of questions about her current projects at work, some about her dad sprinkled in, and what she had planned for the future. It was a format she was used to and had come to appreciate, not exactly enjoying being the center of attention. During her last interview, however, she was caught off guard by one of the last questions she was asked.

“I know this might be an awkward question to ask, but I just have to! The people want to know: do you think your dad’s ever going to return to the dating pool?”

Y/N choked on her saliva. She knew her dad was an attractive man, seeing posts on social media of people fawning over him. Although she found it to be very weird and uncomfortable, she just brushed it all aside, not wanting to think about it as it only led to her thinking about the loss of her mom, a sore spot for her.

Y/N cleared her throat and forced out a chuckle. “I think that’s a question only he can answer, I don’t always know what’s going on in that crazy head of his.”

The interviewer laughed and proceeded to transition into the next segment. Y/N quickly thanked the interviewer and left, Bucky swiftly following behind. He had a feeling that something was off, as Y/N would typically stay behind to chat with the interviewer, crew members, even the service staff, whenever she finished an interview. It was always something he admired about her, how down to earth she remained, despite all of the privileges she had. She went out of her way to thank everyone on set, no matter how small their role might seem. He always told the drivers to pull the car up a little later than originally planned, just so she would have the extra time to talk.

Y/N pushed the doors open, only to find an empty street. She turned around and gave Bucky a curious look.

“Sorry, the driver just texted me,” he said, as he sent a text to the driver, telling him to come now. “He’s running late.”

Y/N nodded and leaned against the wall, looking down to fiddle with her hands. Bucky leaned against the opposite wall, facing her, his arms crossed over his chest.

“You okay?”

Y/N looked up at Bucky to find a gentle look in his eyes, slightly taken aback at the sight. She always found herself drawn to his piercing blue eyes, but they usually had a colder glint to them. This was a look she’d never seen before.

“Yeah, ‘m fine,” she replied, averting her gaze down as she felt her cheeks flush at the sight of Bucky’s soft gaze.

The car arrived, cutting off Bucky’s train of thought as he was thinking of what to say to her. For a moment he debated on continuing the conversation in the car but figured she already had a long night ahead of her and didn’t want to push any further.

After a quick pit stop back to Y/N’s place, allowing her to change into an evening gown, the car headed to the venue of the gala. Bucky got out of the car before her, walking around to the other side to open her door. Before she stepped out, Y/N took a deep breath in and exhaled, plastering a fake smile on her face as a surge of flashing lights from cameras greeted her. Bucky watched, seeing her seamlessly transform from Y/N, the girl who needed to set a million alarms before actually waking up, to Y/N, tech extraordinaire, one of the most powerful people in the tech world.

Once they were inside the venue, Bucky stuck to his usual routine. Scope out the exits, look for any potential threats, and make sure Y/N was in his eyesight. Bucky kept close by but also kept his distance. He wanted to make sure that he gave her enough space whenever they were out, knowing that having him around was her dad’s idea and that she wasn’t too fond of having security detail in the first place. So he did everything he could to make himself blend in with the crowd, allowing her to roam freely, only following her when she moved out of his line of vision.

Y/N walked around, not knowing a single soul but making polite small talk with the rest of the guests. She became accustomed to knowing how to act at these types of events over the span of her adult life. Food, drinks, more food, home. Crowds made her uneasy, but she always felt calmer when she saw Bucky in her peripheral vision. Y/N would never admit it out loud, but over the last year, he had become a constant source of relief at these public events. Just knowing that he was there if she felt uncomfortable, unsafe, or wanted to leave early made her public outings much more bearable.

“Hey, sweetie! I’m so glad you made it.” Y/N turned around at the sound of her dad’s voice and smiled, moving in to hug him.

“Yeah well, you said you had a big announcement, so I figured I’d stop by,” she joked, eliciting a chuckle from her dad as they pulled away from each other.

“I’m about to make it now,” he started, placing his hands on Y/N’s shoulders. “And I was wondering if you could join me on stage for it? I know that’s not your thing, but it would mean so much to me, Y/N.”

While she absolutely hated the idea of having to stand in front of thousands of people, she reluctantly nodded. Y/N and her dad had slowly grown apart the past several years, only talking a couple times a month to catch up. With both of their busy schedules, they always seemed to miss each other. Despite their growing apart, she would do anything for her dad, especially if it meant so much to him.

Bucky slowly followed behind, as Y/N and her dad walked up to the stage. Y/N glanced behind her to give a slight smile to Bucky, to which he nodded back. He stood backstage, watching them from behind the curtains.

“Hi everyone, thanks so much for coming out tonight,” Y/N’s dad spoke into the mic. She was standing beside him, hands clasped in front of her, trying to look calm and not totally anxious.

“Since the success of my brand, people have said that I am a man who has everything. And I definitely have a lot to be thankful for, my company, my friends, and most importantly, my daughter.” Her dad extended a hand out to point to Y/N and the crowd cheered. Bucky couldn’t help the smile that formed on his lips. Despite his brooding attitude, he had come to grow fond of Y/N, being able to see her for who she truly was. She was smart, witty, and had a heart of gold.

“The only thing I’ve been missing,” her dad looks down at the ground for a second, before looking back out at the crowd. “Is someone to share it all with.” Y/N’s smile faltered and felt her stomach drop. She couldn’t fully register the words coming out of her dad’s mouth.

“After Sarah, my wife had passed, I didn’t think I would be able to love again. Until I met Alyssa.” Y/N was frozen in place upon hearing her dad’s confession. She’d never heard of anyone named Alyssa during any of their catch-up calls and now he was saying he loved her? Y/N quickly turned as a woman walked out on stage. The woman walked over to her dad and he wrapped one of his arms around her waist before speaking.

“Now I feel complete, now I have everything.” He pulled Y/N to him and wrapped his other arm around her shoulders, smiling for the cameras ahead. There were a lot of strategies Y/N had devised over the years to deal with potential unexpected and uncomfortable situations in a composed manner to avoid having a PR nightmare.

She didn’t have one for this.

Tearing herself from her dad’s hold, she ran off stage, heading towards the exit that led to the outside. Y/N took in the fresh air, trying to stop her hyperventilating. It wasn’t working. Her chest felt tight as she began gasping for air, struggling to take in oxygen.

She was having a panic attack. It was nothing she hadn’t experienced before, but it had been so long since she’d had one. The last time she remembered, was at her mom’s funeral.

Her mom. Her dad. Alyssa.

Her thoughts were pushed aside as her vision blurred, her eyes swelling up with tears. Y/N felt like she had no control over her body and shut her eyes, allowing the panic to consume her.

Then, a firm, but gentle, warm feeling in her hands.

Y/N blinked her eyes open to reveal Bucky, standing in front of her. She looked down and saw that it was his hands in hers, holding them tight.

“Can you breathe for me, honey?”

His voice came out in a soft whisper, accompanied by the warmest and welcoming smile. She shook her head, unable to control her quick and rapid breaths. Bucky squeezed her hands a little tighter, rubbing his thumb in small circles on the back of her hand.

“Yes you can, just breathe with me, okay?”

He started to breathe in and out slowly and eventually, she was able to follow his lead, deciding to focus on his eyes. There was that look from before the ride to the gala, the gentle look in his eyes. She’d always felt that his blue eyes reminded her of stormy seas, but now, now they made her think of the calmness of the ocean in the early morning, waves crashing softly on the shores.

As she regained her composure, she realized she’d been staring into Bucky’s eyes for, probably, far too long. Bucky felt her tight grip on his hands loosen and reluctantly let go of her hands. He immediately missed the softness of her hands and how small they were in comparison to his much larger, calloused, hands.

“T- Thank you,” she stuttered out, her gaze locked on the ground, as she placed her hands to her sides.

“It’s no problem. I get them too,” he replied. She looked up at him as he clarified. “Panic attacks. PTSD from serving overseas.”

Y/N face drops, her stomach churning at the thought that Bucky had ever experienced panic like she had. She returned her gaze to the ground as a silence washed over them.

“He didn’t tell me about her,” she spoke in a quiet voice. “Never brought her up once. But I guess she must be pretty special for him to do all of this.”

Bucky stood a couple steps in front of her, seeing teardrops fall from her face. She lifted her head up to wipe away her tears, her hands shaking from anxiety. Y/N placed her hands on her face and started to sob.

She was slightly hurt by the idea of her dad loving any other woman than her mom but knew that he’d have to move on eventually. What hurt her the most was the fact that he didn’t tell her, not until they were on stage, standing before a crowd of people. It was too much for her to handle and she reached her breaking point.

Bucky’s heart dropped at the sight. He cautiously stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her tightly. Something his PTSD had taught him was how pressure from a hug could help relax the nervous system and calm him down. He held her firmly in his arms until he felt her breathing slow. She looked up at him, remaining in his embrace, her eyes glassy from crying, nose red and sniffly. Bucky felt his heart skip a beat and immediately pushed the thought away.

“You wanna leave, honey?”

She nodded in response, staying in his arms for just a second longer before pulling away. Y/N longed for his warm touch, feeling like a child who had their security blanket taken away. It didn’t help that it was also cold outside, sending a chill down her spine.

Bucky noticed and shrugged his suit jacket off to wrap around her shoulders. She beamed a smile at him and he smiled back.

The pair walked around the outside of the venue to find the car when they ran into a mob of paparazzi, shouting questions at Y/N about her sudden exit. Like a reflex, she grabbed hold of Bucky’s hand and he gave her a comforting squeeze as he cleared a path towards the car.

Bucky and Y/N were sat next to each other in the car, which was not the typical seating arrangement they usually had, usually sitting on opposite ends of the car. But Y/N hadn’t let go of his hand, not quite ready to separate herself from his warmth. Bucky had absolutely no problem with that, mindlessly rubbing his thumb against the back of her hand. She felt safe. She always felt safe with Bucky around.

Y/N felt her eyelids become heavy, struggling to keep them open. She was exhausted from her long day, and her panic attack had taken most of her energy away.

Bucky felt a weight on his shoulder and turned his head slightly to see Y/N’s head resting there. He felt a warmth rush to his cheeks and smiled, resting his head on top of hers.

“Thank you for tonight, Bucky,” she mumbled, keeping her eyes closed. “You always make me feel so safe.”

Bucky felt a surge of tenderness rush through him. That was all he ever wanted to do. He wanted to keep her safe. He kissed her forehead, causing her to snuggle closer to him.

“Of course, honey. I’m here, always.”

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