#either way. current project is the kiss and im like. why the fuck did i buy this kit. why did i do this to myself
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why did i decide my next crafting project was gonna be a kit for klimt's the kiss. why did i do this to myself. bitch u are PINING.
#WAHHHHHH#the duality of fran#literally ignore me#but idk man the past few weeks have just been. PINING. PINING. PINING.#WE HATE IT HERE. I HATE HOW MUCH I LOVE AND CRAVE ROMANCE. FUCK THIS#I LOVE LOVE AND IM MAD ABOUT IT#anyway cant finish the other piece until it dries. i had to rinse out all the water soluble marker bc i FUCKED UP the lettering#and cant try again til it dries. might go get a fine tip fabric marker and try with that instead#either way. current project is the kiss and im like. why the fuck did i buy this kit. why did i do this to myself#AND im playing a text based otome on steam??? ARE U FR GIRL???? ARE U STUPID?? (YES. YES I AM)#literally also play pathologic which is the LEAST romantic game of all time. its a horrible metanarrative tragedy#and YET. me and percy are both like. daniil??? daniil i love u????? sad russian man i love uuuuuu#anyway. brain is bad. i need to be buff and hot and just like. idk. loved. loved. loved.#love romance and im mad about it so im gonna go be emo abt thara celehar instead.#like. if im having a bad time u know who is also always having a bad time and usually in the exact same way as me???#thara. it's always thara. we have the same problems ok. anyway. there's also...no. i shant say it. but iykyk.
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Cuddles with Kie
REQUESTED ON WATTPAD
Y/N POV
Kie and I had been best friends for years. We were inseparable and did any and everything together. We spent every waking moment together and even when we were sleeping or couldn't be together physically we were on facetime. Most of our sleepovers consisted of us sneaking out late into the night to find random bugs or animals to put on my sleeping brother. Everyone knew about us and never dared to mess with either of us knowing a hell would be raised.
But all of that completely stopped about a year ago when Kie decided to go to dinner at the Cameron's house. Since that night I haven't seen her other than school where I barely even get a glance. Ya, I still had my brother, JJ, and Pope but all I wanted was my best friend back. She knew me and understood me more than anyone ever would. We went from hand holding, forehead kisses, and random outbursts of laughter at the worst time possible to barely even talking. The last time I talked to her was three months ago when she and I were paired together for a science project. Even then she refused to come to my house or even allow me into hers. We were limited to the classroom or the Library. It was almost like she was completely embarrassed to be seen with me because of my social status, which I don't get because for as long as I could remember Kie never gave a flying fucking about the Kook and Pogue bullshit.
But here I find myself sitting on my bed looking at the wall of pictures that hold memories of Kie and my father who I haven't seen in almost five months. Before he left he told me he would have to go away for a while so what happened next was a complete blindside.
"Hey Y/N we need to talk," John B comes into my room with a look on his face I couldn't read. I just nodded my head allowing him to continue.
"Um.. so I really don't know how to say this, but dad is being listed as a missing person officially and is most likely being presumed dead," John B says quietly while finally letting a few tears fall. At this moment the whole world stopped. Everything in the room was completely frozen, I could barely breathe and my sight was now blurred due to tears threatening to fall. I was completely in my own world that I didn't even see John B rushing over to me and pulling me into his arms. But the second I felt him I completely broke down. I found myself crying into his arms still not able to read. It took John B a few seconds to realize what was happening but the second he did he pulled himself away from me and just started telling me to breathe.
"Y/N you need to breathe," John B said while I attempted to follow his instructions of breathing in and out. At this point I see JJ and Pope rushing into my room and getting to my level.
"Y/N PLEASE BREATHE," JJ says yelling, allowing himself to go into pull blow panic mode. I see Pope quickly rush out of the room and back just as fast with a glass of water he shoved into my face demanding I drink some.
I tried to take a sip but the second I tried to swallow I choked and completely spit it out and coughing which then made it even harder to try and breathe.
"I need you to breathe," John B said while crying even harder. "Please," he added quietly.
I did my best to calm down and once I was somewhat calmer I took a drink of water allowing the cool liquid to calm my burning throat. I was still crying and completely frozen but now I was finally able to breathe.
"I need Kie," I said quietly. Which made JJ frown. Ever since Kie completely abandoned us JJ has done his best to fill her shoes. He knew he wasn't her and he tried to remind himself that but it was hard seeing Y/N ache for the girl who completely left them high and dry.
"Ill try and give her a call," Pope said while walking away quietly. I just laid down in my bed with John B joining me and pulling me into his arms. He was all I had left and I refused to let him disappear to so I just held onto him tightly.
"She's on her way," Pope came back into the room a few minutes later. Which made John B nod hid head and JJ let out a quiet scoff. Kie leaving the group the way she did hurt all of them not just Y/N.
A few minutes pass before I hear a light knock on the back door. She wasn't even comfortable coming in anymore. She was a stranger in the house she used to spend most nights.
KIE'S POV
When I got the call I instantly left Sarah's house ignoring all of her shady comments and her telling me that if I go over there I was never welcome back. I sent her a quick glare and a middle finger and ran my way out of Figure Eight and into the cut. When I got to Y/N house I didn't know if I should just walk in like normal or knock. I decided on knocking not knowing how everyone would react if I just barged my way into the house after a year.
"Well, well, well, look who we have here," JJ said to me with clear venom in his voice. I knew my actions were hurting Y/N but I never fully realized how much it truly affected everyone else.
"Hi stranger," I try to crack a joke giving them a smile.
"Kie, what the fuck happened this past year," John B asked while walking down the hall from Y/N room.
"Im sorry, I lost who I was for a minute," I tell them while looking down at my feet clearly guilty of my actions.
"Ya you lost who you were and completely broke the only person who mattered in your life, the only person who truly understood you, and last but not least the only person who loved you for YOU," John be said to me clearly getting angrier and angrier.
"Im sorry okay, how much can I tell you that Im so fucking sorry. If i could go back and do it again I would have left that stupid dinner and came right back over, I don't even know why I stayed or why I kept going back," I told them truthfully.
"Well you could have at least told her what happened," JJ said.
"I wanted to, but Sarah is a bitch, she is controlling, and to be completely honest I was scared of her. I was scared that if I left her she would hurt Y/N," I tell them while finally looking them in the eyes. John B had tears running down his face, JJ's eyes were bloodshot clearly from crying, and Pope was hard to read like normal.
What happened next surprised me. John B pulled me into a hug and gave me a quick kiss on the forehead.
"Go get your girl," John B said while pulling me away and pushing me towards the direction of Y/N. I had no idea what to expect when I walked in or how she was going to react but the second I opened her door and I saw her face light up I knew I had fucked up.
Y/N POV
The moment I heard my door open up and saw Kie I couldn't help but light up. I had been waiting for this moment for so long. She instantly came over to me and pulling me onto her chest. It felt like she hadnt even left.
"Im so fucking sorry, Im sorry for everything, for leaving, for ignoring you, for leaving you to question yourself, and for you dad," Kie told me quickly. Kie was never one to apologize so for her to instantly apologize and mean it meant everything to me. I just held her tighter in fear she might disappear again.
"I missed you," Is all I could choke out. Kie kissed my forehead and intertwined our fingers and holding me tighter.
"Im never leaving your side again," Kie tells me matter a factly.
"Promise?" I asked her. She let go of my hand and stuck out her pinky.
"Promise." She says while grabbing my pinky into hers and kissing her thumb while I do the same and then we touch thumbs. It was how we always pinky promised to each other.
She grabbed my hand again and we just sat in silence for a minute.
"You smell like the rich," I tell her which makes her bust out laughing with me following behind her.
"And you smell like..." she starts to say before bending down and smelling my hair before continuing , "strawberry shampoo and salt water," she finishes with a smile making me smile.
"But for real tomorrow we are taking you outside to touch some dirt," I tell her while laughing.
"How was the Kook life?" I ask her genuinely wanting to know what it was like even if it was from the eyes of someone else.
"Honestly boring, they are too concerned with their imagine that they forget to have fun and let loose a little," she tells me.
"sounds like a bunch of people with sticks up their ass," I saw while laughing to myself a little.
"Oh definitely!" Kie confirms. I could my tears and panic attack catching up with me making my eyes droop a little. Kie noticed I was getting sleeping which just made her pull me into her tighter and bring the blanket over our bodies making sure that the cold weather doesn't catch up to us.
"Ill be here in the morning, get some sleep babe," she tells me while looking down at me and kissing my nose. With that I got myself comfortable and allowed the sleep to over take me.
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WORD COUNT 1897
I hope you guys all enjoyed! Please let me know if you have a request of your own. I am currently working on a smut with Rafe so stay tuned for that!!
#kie#obx#outerbanks#outer banks#outer banks imagines#Obx imagines#Netflix imagines#kie imagines#jj maybank#John b#Pope#pope heyward#obx smut
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times new roman | episode eight
t. jefferson x reader
summary: Y/n needs a date. Thomas would be more than happy to oblige.
word count: 1.8k
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“You’ve kissed me twice now.”
It was a plain, straight-forward statement. There was no expectation or insinuation behind his words, merely a fact. Even though Thomas held no malevolence, Y/n couldn’t help but be defensive.
“Well, you kissed me back.”
“I’m not going to apologize for that.”
She cocked her head to the side and stared at him. “Then I don’t know what you want me to do about it.”
Thomas sighed and shrugged his jacket over his shoulders. “Look, angel, all I’m saying is that you can’t keep kissing me and then pretending like I don’t exist. Either you need to stop kissing me or we need to talk this out.”
“Talk this out?”
“Yeah. We could go get lunch and talk about it.”
“Sounds kind of like a date.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Is this you saying no?”
She weighed her options and shrugged. “It’s not.”
“Are you...” Thomas was doing his best not to get his hopes up. “Are you saying yes?”
“Yes, Thomas.”
A full-on smile spread across his face at this. He bounced back and forth on the balls of his feet. “Great! I know this fantastic pla-- damn.”
Y/n raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“I completely forgot,” Thomas sucked his bottom lip under his teeth, his brows furrowing in frustration, “I promised my second cousin I’d meet with him to discuss a case.”
“It’s okay, I understand. We can just have this conversation over text,” she suggested.
He fervently shook his head. “No, no. I want to take you out on a proper date. I want to do this right.”
“It’s not a big deal,” she laughed, “since when have you cared, anyway?”
“Since it’s been you.” Thomas’s eyes softened.
“Oh.”
Y/n stared at him like she was seeing him for the first time. Thomas really cared about her, didn’t he? She should’ve noticed a long time ago that he was more than just the flirtatious, big-shot lawyer who had responded to her tweet weeks ago. Maybe Y/n would’ve noticed if she hadn’t been so focused on falling in love with him, a task that she was currently failing.
Thomas checked his watch and grimaced. “Okay, how about this. I’ll run down to meet with John, and then when I get back I’ll take you out to lunch. It will take 45 minutes, an hour tops.”
“Okay.” When he looked at her with those pleading eyes, there was no way Y/n could’ve said no.
“You’re welcome to use anything in the apartment. The shower, the coffee machine, whatever you need,” he smiled softly, grabbing his briefcase and heading to the door. Before Thomas could close the door behind him, he paused.
“Don’t leave. Please don’t leave, angel.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Thomas offered her one last smile before leaving his apartment and sprinting down the hallway to minimize the amount of time he would be gone. When he was gone, Y/n finally had a moment to think. That’s when she remembered what she was wearing.
“Shit,” she muttered. She couldn’t exactly wear an oversized t-shirt and underwear to lunch, and Y/n wasn’t exactly thrilled with the idea of wearing an evening gown, either. Finding her phone on the bedside table, she quickly began to craft a message to Peggy.
“I don’t like him. I’ve just kissed him a few times and now I’m going on a date with him,” Y/n said fifteen minutes later when Peggy showed up with a change of clothes.
“You’re in denial.”
“No, I’m in the Upper East Side, currently. Why would I be in a river in Egypt?”
“DENIAL. Not the nile. You know exactly what I meant, don’t play dumb with me.” Peggy crossed her arms, and took a moment to appreciate the dark wood in Thomas’s kitchen. “Now I knew Jefferson was rich, but I didn’t know he was this rich.”
Y/n shrugged. “He comes from old money, and then he has the money he makes as a corporate lawyer on top of that.”
“Is he like, your sugar daddy, then?” Peggy raised an eyebrow.
“I swear,” Y/n grumbled under her breath. “We both know I don’t need a sugar daddy.”
Peggy shrugged. “You could do a lot worse than Jefferson. That man is fine. I still don’t believe that nothing happened between you two last night.”
“I don’t know what I’m going to have to do to convince you that nothing happened,” Y/n sighed. “I promise you nothing happened.”
“Are you... are you disappointed?” Peggy asked.
“Stop projecting your thoughts onto me,” Y/n snapped, but a part of her had to wonder if she actually was disappointed. She shook her head. “Okay, enough from you. You need to go before Thomas gets back. I’ll catch you up on everything later.”
“You’re calling him Thomas now? I’m sure he’d prefer da--”
“Get out,” Y/n hissed, shoving her friend out the door.
Y/n was in a rush to get dressed and ready before Thomas got back. She finished getting ready in record time, and then found that she was left with nothing to do. After absent-mindedly scrolling through her phone for a few minutes, Y/n grew bored and decided to go on a self-guided tour of Thomas Jefferson’s apartment.
The first stop was the bathroom. Immaculately clean counter, a large mirror with lights behind it, and a fucking rain shower. Who even owned a rain shower in New York City? Still, Y/n was wishing she had taken Thomas up on that previous offer to use his shower. How good would that rain shower feel? And if she was imagining Thomas’s hands on her in the shower, nobody would have to know.
After briefly fixing up her appearance in the mirror, Y/n ventured into the kitchen which was connected to a living room with a grand piano, shelves full of books, and an incredible view of New York. Thomas owned nearly every classic book, from To Kill a Mockingbird to A Tale of Two Cities. There were stacks of books on the coffee table because there wasn’t enough room on one of his many shelves, and Y/n was reminded that she had seen even more books in his work office.
“Someone get this man a Kindle,” she muttered to herself as she weaved her way.
Y/n tensed when she heard keys in the door and the handle begin to jiggle. Logically, it would make sense that it was just Thomas returning. But this was still New York City. Y/n grabbed a larger book off the table, something by Tolstoy, and raised it up just in case an intruder walked through the door.
Finally, the door swung open, and Thomas entered his apartment. He froze when he saw Y/n staring at him, book raised in the air in preparation for attack. Thomas blinked a few times and adjusted his glasses -- he hadn’t been wearing them this morning, had he? How did he look so good in them?
“Angel, were you about to assault me with my own library?” He asked curiously.
Y/n cringed inwardly and lowered the book. “I just wanted to be prepared in case it wasn’t you and someone was breaking in.”
Thomas laughed and shook his head. “What was your plan exactly? To subdue your attacker with tales from Napoleonic era Russia?”
“I don’t know, I hadn’t really thought that through. Maybe I’d throw it at them and make my escape,” she shrugged.
He set down his briefcase on the kitchen counter and made his way over to Y/n. Thomas stopped when they were standing nearly chest to chest and leaned forward to take the book out of her hand, his grin never faltering.
“I’d ‘preciate it if you didn’t throw my books, angel. This is a collector’s edition.” Thomas placed the book safely back on the coffee table. “So how about that lunch?”
Y/n allowed a small smile. “Yes. Lunch. I’m starving.”
“Great! Well, not great that you’re starving-- I just mean, well. I want to take you to this place I know that has the best French cuisine in America.” His eyes lit up the way they always did when he started talking about something he was passionate about. The same way they lit up when he looked at her. “The head chef and I go way back.”
Y/n wouldn’t outwardly show how happy it made her to see Thomas this excited, but she felt all warm and cozy on the inside. Together, Thomas and Y/n left his apartment and they began walking a few blocks down to the restaurant that Thomas was so excited about.
As they walked, Thomas hummed softly, an ever-present grin on his face. Y/n felt herself staring at him while they walked, and quickly looked away when she saw him glance at her. She bit her lip gently, still trying to comprehend that she was actually going on a date with Thomas Jefferson. She must have been thinking hard, because eventually Y/n realized neither of them had spoken in a while.
“So how was coffee with your cousin?” She asked nervously, trying to fill the silence.
“Not my cousin,” Thomas reminded her, “my second cousin.”
“And that matters because?” Y/n raised an eyebrow at Thomas’s defensiveness.
“Because he’s just so... liberal.” Thomas glanced at her and gave a sheepish smile. “No offense, of course.”
“None taken?”
“Just can’t stand ‘im sometimes,” he shrugged. “Gets on my nerves.”
“Then why did you ditch me to get coffee with him?” She shoved her hands in her pockets and absently focused on matching her stride with Thomas’s.
“He’s family, I’d hear it from Ma if I didn’t treat him with that Southern hospitality. My second cousin, John Marshall’s just starting off in law and my aunt thought I could give him some tips,” he said. Thomas glanced at Y/n, “sorry, angel, am I boring you with this?”
“No, no,” Y/n insisted. “I’m fascinated. Is he working on an interesting case?”
Thomas grinned. “Actually, yeah. He’s working on this criminal case where a defendant had been coerced into a confession. Somehow John’s roped me into being his co-counsel.”
Y/n’s eyebrows shot up into her hair line. “You’re working on a criminal justice case?”
He glanced at you, his grin widening at the look on your face. “I know you like to think I’m just a corporate sellout, but I do my fair share of pro bono cases.”
“Didn’t realize you had any expertise in that area of law,” she said with a shrug.
“First job out of law school, I spent some time working at the D.A.’s office. Got a lot of experience around prosecutors and defense attorneys. Thought I’d go into criminal law for a while,” he mused.
Y/n studied his features carefully. “What made you change your mind?”
“Well, angel, when the George Washington comes knocking on your door and specifically asks for you, you don’t turn him down,” Thomas laughed.
“Ah, I see. Do you ever wish you hadn’t switched to corporate law?” She asked.
They had arrived at the restaurant Thomas had picked out, and they paused on the sidewalk as he considered the question.
“Sometimes I think about it,” he admitted. Thomas looked over at Y/n, smiled, and pulled the door open for her. “But I think I made the right decision.”
tags:
@dovesgrangers @lovelymrvl @wiffle-snuffles @thisistrashperson @comingupwithacoolnameishard @wordvomit-foryourmind @newtonslawoffuck @isharemydeathdaywithfeanor @i-know-i-can @imperial-martian @fangirling-central @dannighost @ateliefloresdaprimavera @justahappylilblog @fanfic-addict-98 @a-hopeless-fan @and-claudia @nicolemelton @youtxbemusic @reidcult @eirenism @fantasy-of-fiction @iamsuperconfusedallthetime-dead @a-midwinter-night-dream-86 @rycbar-221b @bethanymccauley @fanworrior @gggamingz @nemesis729 @ibeaesthethicc @yodas-padawan @sabbrriiinnaa @micaiahmoonheart @beautifulfound @moondustmemories @ct-salad @teenwaywardasgardian @bj-is-a-graduateof-julliard @ruebx @katierpblogg @speedypartyducksuitcase @fangirling-central @idkkbaleighh @ballerinafairyprincess @spn-pogues @gryffin-claw @elegantbutedgy @1elysium @sierraisnotreal @ssanjuniperoo @collectivefandom @lilbabyhoneypot @lunariasilver @justcallmemama @atleastidontdotiktoks @mistrose23 @checkurwindow @fluffydmonkey @pettyjayy @rosesinmars @cubedtriangle @itsjube @zeelmol @ems-alexandra @yavin4andor @daveeds-whore @someinsanefangirl @theatrenerd86 @poetnstuff @ohsoverykeri-blog @im-sidney @omgyouburtmyeggos @astralaffairs @nyxie75 @mydearestlaurens @janessawonderwall @the-middle-oldest-child @emtinuviel
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#okay but lawyer!thom is really fun to write#with his lil glasses and briefcase#i'm in love with him#this was really short idk how i feel about it#but i hope to have the next two parts up soon??#hamilton#hamilton imagine#thomas jefferson#thomas jefferson imagine#thomas jefferson x reader#imagine thomas jefferson#imagine daveed diggs#Daveed Diggs#hamilton x reader
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I’ve never requested anything from anyone but I’m in desperate need for a billy x goth!reader. Idk just how he noticed her in school cuz she is the only goth person and always asks her out and they flirt but she always rejects him until one day she agrees. Idk if that makes sense but thank u :)
a/n: so I dont know how to feel about this, I might edit and come and change it because I'm not sure of the ending, but if you like it, let me know! I tried to make it sweet at the end but this is definitely out of character for Billy, but I'm soft for him so idc. @savvy7392 I really really really hope you like this im sorry it took ages
harsh, confident and undeniably cool: everyone at Hawkins High knew not to fuck with you - you'd forged your own path in previous years and showed no signs of slowing down any time soon. there was just something about you that made people want to simply observe from the sidelines. known for dark makeup, brash music and taking no one's bullshit, you were somewhat of a divisive figure: people either really hated you and tried to make your life misery (to not much avail) or desperately wanted to befriend you.
somehow, along the way you'd made friends with the likes of Robin and by association, Steve, but you were happy with your small group of friends and didn't really care all that much for your hometown and what (or who) it had to offer.
therefore, when a fresh faced californian boy toy entered Hawkins High, you couldn't deny there was a certain allure to his cool demeanour and newness. unluckily for you, Billy found his place with the current popular kids sucking up to him and soon the rumours about you began to surface again. whenever you caught his eyes within the first few days of his arrival, his gaze would be quickly diverted by Tina or Carol as they glared at you or threw insults. that's why you decided it really wasn't worth getting involved with Billy Hargrove, even if he did have an amazing taste in music.
but God did you misunderstand the lengths to which this boy would go for your attention.
the first few days, Billy would opt for a smile sent your way, enough to make you weak at the knees but not quite enough to make you wander over to him. group projects would be announced in class and when he tried to subtly join you, you'd amble to the opposite end of the room to be with a bunch of kids you didn't even know, just to avoid him. and Billy knew you did it on purpose since after sitting down with your respective groups, you caught his eye and simply winked at him.
almost dropping his pencil in surprise, he was genuinely unable to believe you had successfully ignored him in such a blatant way. smirking back at his gaping mouth and sparklingly amused eyes, you simply laughed it off, sparking a conversation up with the boy next to you as easily as you had rejected Billy. shaking his head in disbelief, he made a promise to himself he'd make you friends with him if it was the last thing he did.
another day, you arrived at school with a too-short black skirt on and Billy felt his heartrate quicken at simply catching one glimpse of you, his blood rushing just a little faster than usual. he would never have the guts to tell you, but he absolutely adored the way you dressed and how good it made you look.
unexpectedly, you treated him to an actual wave this morning, something that fuelled his pursuits. all day, he pestered you in class, forcing those who would usually take the seat next to you to move elsewhere so he could be closer to you. deep blue and bright with attraction, his eyes would drop down to your thighs and the way they looked so amazing in the skirt you were wearing. desperately, he wanted to say something about it to you, but he knew he'd trip over his words; already he had blushed intensely when you caught him staring, though at least he could tell you were enjoying his gaze.
rather annoyingly, you did like the attention, smiling to yourself when he would ignore other people so he could walk you to your next class even if he was rambling to himself the whole time. curls falling in his face and a cheesy grin playing on his cheeks were enough to make butterflies swarm your insides and you had a terrible time trying to hide it.
in reality, you really didn't want to be cruel since it appeared he didn't really have anyone that cared about him much past the muscles and cute eyes, but you also were not about to walk straight into a heartbreak with both eyes open. billy was definitely a bad influence, even to you, the resident goth of Hawkins High, and whether he meant it or not, you knew you would eventually get hurt.
the next time, he plagued your locker with letters and notes and waited next to it, a permanent grin locked onto his features.
a red shirt clung to his biceps, tan skin visible due to the multiple buttons left undone and a silver chain dangling and catching in the light. strong and slightly overpowering yet undeniably attractive, his unique smell of cologne and liquor and maybe a little something else invaded your private space, making you way too nervous to deal with him this late in the day.
weeks of notes and smiles and blue eyes meeting yours way too often had weakened your resolve and if it didn't disgust you so much you would be able to admit Billy was slowly turning your heart to mush. you couldn't listen to mötley crüe without thinking of him and every time you picked out an outfit, you wondered if he'd think you were beautiful or if he'd like the band on your shirt. his compliments and soft gestures like driving you home and giving you his jacket when it was raining (even if it didn't fit your look) had grown on you massively. now you would even go as far to say you enjoyed his company.
"heya baby girl," he drawled, the curl of his plump lips breathtaking in the worst ways, "fancy coming along with me for the evening?"
even though he exuded pure confidence, you didn't miss the way he resembled a kicked puppy when you smiled and responded, "I've got assignments pretty boy, no thanks," shovelling the letters into your bag and turning on your heel to walk home.
unfortunately, this wasn't quite good enough for Billy, hence why he followed quickly, his voice echoing after you, "what's with the ignoring me constantly y/n? you stand at parties and complain about the music and watch me all night and yet you walk away when I come up to you. I've seen you staring at me in class sometimes or at lunch when I'm not bothering you and whenever I catch your eye, you leave. you watch me all the time and yet every time I think you'll come over, you ignore me. if you don't like me, that's okay but I need to know now."
cheeks burning with embarrassment, your eyes dropped to the ground as he pulled you away into privacy. you didn't know what to say.
"billy..." you managed, still unable to meet his chaotic gaze as he stood only centimetres away, breathing hard while he awaited your response.
"what is it? just give me a reason." he almost pleaded, relaxing slightly when you gave him a smile and finally met his eyes.
"do you realise how badly your friends hate me? because I dress weird and I listen to music they don't and I've always been different and you hate that they don't like me. I can't spend five minutes with you in public before you get nervous, I'm sick of you hiding me away! you're fine with me unless there's someone around and I don't understand it and it is tearing me apart," your outburst pulled at him, making him feel terrible for calling you out prematurely.
"I like you Billy but I can't deal with that. I like my little life of listening to bad music with my friends and dreaming of getting away one day and hanging at the mall with Steve and Robin. I love sitting in your car and sharing those moments you don't let anyone else see. I do. but I wont let you pretend I don't exist."
shifting on your feet slightly, you realised how ridiculous the whole thing was and all you wanted was for billy to scoop you up in his arms and make the world better again. you wanted him to let you do his eyeliner and you wanted to feel his hands on your hips, his touch driving you wild. you wanted him to kiss you right now in the hallway and tell everyone else to screw off.
but life isn't a dream.
so you settled for Billy whispering his sorrys and offering you his hand, which was enough to nearly make you cry since he would never usually be so open in public. content, you followed him as he led you to his car, all the while promising he'd change things for you, only stopping to talk properly when you reached it.
"promise me something Billy?" after confirmation from him, you continued, leaning against the hood of his car, him stood only centimetres away "you'll never be ashamed of me?"
"never doll, there's nothing to be ashamed of," he leaned in, holding either side of your face ever so gently, and when the kiss finally broke, he whispered, "now how about a date?"
"okay pretty boy, you name it."
that was a good enough start.
#billy hargove imagine#billy hargove x reader#billy#billy hargrove#dacre x reader#dacre montgomery#stranger things writing#stranger things imagine#stranger things#st season 3#imagine#billy hargrove request#requested#my writing#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things fandom#billy hargrove fanfiction#billy fluff#billy x reader#steve harrington#robin#goth#mötley crüe
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One Last Chance: Mina x Reader
Request: Hi! your stories are awesome! Is it okay I can request Mina x female reader college life, where Mina is the most popular rich girl, and her friends place a bet that Mina has to go out with you and make you fell in love with her but turns out the time you guys were together Mina eventually fells in love and tries to call off the bet, and you heard the whole thing, heartbroken you avoided her and Mina did anything that she could to bring you back, fluffy ending (: pleas and thank you!
Hi my loves. This is the long Mina scenario I was asking about earlier. This is really REALLY long but you all promised you wouldn’t mind so here it is 🙃
You transferred to Sungkyunkwan University at the beginning of this semester. Originally you attended MIT for Software Engineering, hacking is your specialty. When a professor recommended you for a study abroad, you couldn’t pass it up. You knew Korean well due to growing up in a heavily Korean influenced neighborhood as a child.
Coming to Korea wasn’t that bad because you were able to meet a few other people over social media before you arrived. You met your roommate months before you flew in so you already had one best friend.
Upon your arrival you already drew up quite a bit of attention. Somehow people found out you were from MIT which they couldn’t believe. Your roommate made sure to make you aware of who to avoid and who was friendly. Pretty much everyone was nice but she told you to watch for one group of girls.
Which is why when you were approached by none other than Mina Myoui aka the richest bitch in the whole school you were beyond confused. The raven haired girl asked “Hey. You’re Y/N right?” You had never seen Mina up close, she was ten times more beautiful than you thought.
“Wait do you speak Korean? I’m sorry. Are you Y/N?” She switched to English when you didn’t respond right away. You quickly tried to answer without sounding stupid “I-Uh um yes I am Y/N and I speak Korean yeah sorry I...I uh. I’m sorry...yeah.” You mentally face palmed yourself for not being able to say one simple sentence to her.
She sat down and said “you’re new and from what I know your only friend is Kahei. So meet me at the cafe down the street at 6, I’ll be waiting.” Before you could respond she got up and walked back to her group of friends who seemed to be laughing. You noticed two of the girls from her group. Im Nayeon was in one of your engineering classes while Minatozaki Sana was in a psych class you took to fill an empty slot.
When you got back to your dorm Kahei was on her bed reading a book. She asked “where’d you go?” You responded “the quad to start a project. But something really weird happened.” Kahei sat up on her bed and patted the spot next to her, “come on talk to me I wanna know.”
“That really rich and pretty girl....Mila? She’s friends with Im Nayeon and Minatozaki Sana...she came up to me and told me to meet her at the cafe down the street at 6.” Kahei’s eyes widened and she loudly said “MINA MYOUI ASKED YOU ON A DATE?” You shrugged then nodded. Kahei made you resite every thing that happened leading up to her asking you out for coffee. In the end she said “hmmmm...I don’t trust it. It sounds fake.” You responded “I do admit it’s a little suspicious that the most rich and popular girl in school asked me, the poor foreigner to a date...”
Kahei told you “well even if it is fake you’re gonna go to find out.” You looked at your sweatpants and t shirt you were currently wearing. You hair was in a messy bun and your thick glasses sat lopsided on your face. “Do rich people like girls who look like me?” You asked uncertainly. Kahei responded “only one way to find out!”
When you went to the cafe Kahei decided to tag along but sit at a different table with her girlfriend Haseul.
Mina arrived shortly after you, “oh i honestly didn’t think you’d show up.” She was surprised to see you actually came. You looked at you hands in your lap “I mean I think it’s rude to blow someone off...” Mina sat down across from you “you look really pretty.” You could tell that it was a genuine complement by the way she smiled softly when she said it. I guess rich people do like girls like me you thought to yourself.
For the next hour she asked you about everything there was she should know about you. Kahei told you to make sure not to disclose every detail about yourself because she still didn’t trust Mina. However by the end of the night you were convinced she was genuine.
•
•
•
Weeks passed and you continued to meet up with Mina, you knew Kahei and Haseul warned you about catching feelings too quickly but you couldn’t help it. Mina seemed so sweet and genuine despite her rich bitch demeanor.
You sat in the library working on a project with your classmate Yuqi. “I know we just met like this week but I don’t trust her either, I’m with Kahei on this one.” You don’t know why you decided to spill all of your business to Yuqi but something about her seemed trustworthy. You rolled your eyes “You all are delusional.”
Deep down you believed Kahei and Haseul and now Yuqi but you didn’t want to admit it. Mostly because you caught feelings for Mina. Badly. Yuqi didn’t pull her eyes away from her laptop “I-I’m just saying something here isn’t adding up. This isn’t right.”
“I’m just gonna- give me a minute.” Yuqi furiously typed away on her laptop, occasionally smiling and laughing to herself. After about two minutes passed she flipped her screen around in front of you was a KakaoTalk page. Mina Myoui’s to be specific.
“Yuqi! WHAT DID YOU DO?!” You whisper yelled to the younger girl who sat with a smile on her face. She simply answered “I hacked into her account. See?” You responded “I’m not reading her messages. That’s an invasion of privacy.” Yuqi responded “Ok well if you won’t I will, she has no relevance to me so it can’t hurt the nonexistent relationship between us.”
She scrolled and scrolled her facial expressions changing from surprised to one you couldn’t quite read. “Y-Y/N....um...I don’t know if you should read this yourself or not.” You felt a pit in your stomach form knowing whatever she had in front of her wasnt good news.
Yuqi slid her laptop to you and you read the messages shared between Mina and her friend group:
Sana: you have three days left in this bet Myoui
Chaeyoung: Sana’s right, you need to figure out how to get Y/N to confess to you
Nayeon: yeah if you don’t you can kiss that Maldives trip bye bye and we can say hello to that shopping spree :)
Mina: I dont want this anymore guys
Sana: are you chickening out?
Chaeyoung: shes chickening out
Mina: it’s not that
Nayeon: so what is it
Mina: nevermind
Jeongyeon: i might be in this friend group but this is wrong on every level
Tzuyu: I’m with Jeongyeon unnie
Dahyun: Me too
Momo: what bet? who is Y/N? I WANT A SHOPPING SPREE!
Jihyo: No you dont
Momo: no i do not
Jihyo: but I’m with Jeongyeon and the kids.
You couldn’t believe what you were reading. There was no way in hell Mina could have done this to you. Absolutely no way. Wanting to find some sort of happy ending you scrolled to a different chat with only this Jeongyeon girl. These newer messages brought on a new wave of emotions.
Jeongyeon: why are you trying to call it off now. You were all excited about it and now you want nothing to do with it.
Mina: I don’t know, It just feels wrong now
Jeongyeon: I know you Mina there’s something else
Mina: Theres nothing else
Jeongyeon: dont you dare lie to me
Mina: fine.
Mina: i like her. A lot. And i want to be with her.
Jeongyeon: then make your move
Mina: but if she finds out it was started with a bet....
Jeongyeon: well then come clean and apologize and pray she stays around. But honestly if i was her i wouldnt give you a second chance
Mina: thats not very reassuring
Jeongyeon: i’m disappointed in you, that’s the best you’re getting for now
Mina: ok, thank you unnie
Mina: i’m doing it tomorrow i’ll tell you how it goes
Jeongyeon: mhm
You looked to see when that last message was sent and it read yesterday’s date. So she was planning to confess or come clean today. Immediately you stood up and put your belongings in your bag before leaving Yuqi alone in the library.
You walked across campus to the dance studio where you found Mina dancing with another girl. “Myoui.” You pushed your glasses up to prevent them from sliding down. Mina turned and saw you “Y/N hey I thought we were going to meet la-”
You cut her off “I love you Mina Myoui, with all my heart I do! Is that what yo want to hear? Can you go to the Maldives now? You won. Congratulations bitch.” Mina looked at the other girl who stood in the room, she looked really confused and got uncomfortable and sprinted out, almost falling on her own feet.
“What are you talking about? I won? Maldives?” Mina questioned you. You snapped back “I didn’t stutter did I?” She replied “how did you- Who told you?” You responded “It’s not who told me or how I found out. You placed a stupid bet on me and toyed with my heart as if you were interested and I fell for your bullshit. Stay the fuck away from me. And if I catch you even thinking about talking to Kahei...you’ll wish you didn’t.” You turned around and walked out not giving Mina a chance to talk.
•
•
•
Weeks passed and the semester was coming to a close in 6 weeks. You hadn’t heard a thing from Mina or any of her friends. Sana and Nayeon stayed away from you when they had class with you. Kahei, Haseul, and Yuqi introduced you to their friends instead to make up for the relationship you once had.
Out of all of the girls you met through Kahei and Yuqi, Jinsoul and Miyeon were closest with you. Miyeon walked into your room “Hey. We’re going to a party and you’re coming. All you’ve done is moped around, worked on projects, or went to the boxing gym. It’s been too long you need to go out.” You groaned “don’t you have work today?” Miyeon responded “ok we meant you and Jinsoul but she’s finishing an assignment so she sent me to tell you.” You rolled over on your face knowing there was no getting out of this.  “Ugh fine.” You giving into your friends wishes.
Miyeon left and outfit for you before leaving your dorm to head to work. You looked over your reflection in the mirror. Miyeon definitely tried something with this outfit because you never wore these types of clothes.
You were finishing up your hair when Jinsoul unlocked your door, ready to go. “Woah...You look so good!” She jumped up and down and clapped her hands excitedly. You quickly but in your shoes and grabbed your phone before she yanked you out of the door.
This house party was definitely run by someone rich because this house was really nice. You linked arms with Jinsoul and held her hand so you wouldn’t lose her in the crowd of people. The two of you found your friend groups and stayed together with them for most of the night.
You noticed some of Mina’s friends were there as well but you didn’t see Mina. Jinsoul danced against you as you held her close laughing at her antics. Throughout the night you noticed she was watching one girl in particular, Kim Jungeun. She was in your guys’ friend group but because there’s a total of 19 girls in the group, the two of you weren’t exactly close with everyone. You know she went by Kim Lip, only allowing a few people to call her Jungeun.
“Ooo I see Lip is alone, now’s your chance go go!” You pushed Jinsoul towards the girl. Your best friend responded “no what about you I see Mina’s friends here, what if she arrives?” You pushed her further “i’ll be fine I can handle myself, just keep your phone on!” She nodded and let her hand slip out of yours, running towards Kim Lip.
You danced on a few girls and a few random dudes before getting tired of the environment. Knowing you couldn’t leave Jinsoul, you decided to walk upstairs to see if there was anything to explore. You accidentally walked in on a couple before you realized you should knock on doors before opening them.
You found a door that was open so you walked in, ready to punch of someone came at you unexpectedly. The room was large, like really large, pictures hanging on the walls, stuffed animals lining whoever’s bed it was.
However the most eye catching thing was the gigantic window that overlooked the city. You slid it open and saw there was enough room on the roof for you to safely sit. Taking in deep breaths of cool air you hugged your knees to your chest.
A knock on the shingles is what snapped you out of your trance. You expected Jinsoul but instead you saw Mina. The Japanese girl softly asked “Do you mind?” You responded coldly “no.” She smiled and walked out sitting next to you, “Id hope not, you are sitting on my roof.” You asked “so this is your place? This isn’t the same one I visited those times though.” Mina responded “rich people unnecessarily buy multiple houses.” An awkward silence fell over the two of you.
She looked at you but you stared straight ahead waiting for her to talk. Eventually you grew impatient, “I’m pretty sure you didn’t come out here to look at me, so whatever you have to say just go ahead.” She sighed then said “I’m sorry. I truly am. My friends were being stupid one day and betted me to go ask you out. Originally my intentions weren’t true and I only wanted to win. But after getting to know you...I kind of fell for you and I didn’t know what to do. I’m sorry.”
You could tell she was being genuine by the tone in her voice. You hesitated then said “I loved you Mina.” She quickly responded “I love you too.” You were quick to ruin the moment “I said loveD. Past tense. I-I don’t know if i can trust you anymore.
Mina reached for your hand and you allowed her to hold it. “Please Y/N. Give me one last chance and if I mess it up you’ll never have to even think about me. I’ll make sure my friends don’t think about doing anything. Please just one more chance. Please.” Something about seeing her like this made your heart melt and butterflies erupted in your stomach.
You gave in “Fine. One last chance. That’s it.” She smiled and finally you looked at her. Her adorable gummy smile that you once loved so much was back. She placed a hand behind your neck, with her eyes she asked you for permission. You nodded and she kissed you softly. In that moment you remembered every reason why you loved Mina before.

#kpop imagines#kpop scenarios#kpop fluff#twice fluff#twice scenarios#twice imagine#twice mina#myoui mina
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Temporary list of my stories and OC’s until one day I make a comprehensive and well made list:
Blinded:
Polli: My oldest OC and fun fact was my persona till she become edgy and I wasn’t 12 anymore. Everyone’s favorite yes yes I’m aware. Yellow, energetic, eats dirt and bugs, I can’t tell if she’s evil because of a wisp possession or just crazy. Breaks the 4th wall. Is she a Mary Sue???????? Who knows.
Melody: NOT Polli’s girlfriend despite Polli’s delousions. Has an abusive mom :(. Only has one eye and then no eyes and then robot eyes or smthn idk she becomes a badass when she gets older. But otherwise trembling in her shoes all the time.
Melodys Mom/Sharren: Bitch. Okay well all I’ll say is she’s old and grumpy and probably smells bad.
Louise: Total hotty, rich kid, FtM, got bullied as a kid for his weight. Had a squad of fans basically in high school. Lived with his mom after his parents got a divorce but his mom was semi abusive, projected her femininity onto him, and wouldn’t have been supportive of his transition, so between middle and high school he went to live with his dad and got his sex change and testosterone. His best friend in elementary and middle school stopped talking to him after his transition, and became his competition for the most attractive and sought after boy in school (except Louise is a sweetheart while his friend Tommy is a dick and really gross) His dad runs a company that specializes in technology, and after meeting and falling in love with Melody (even after all her abusive trauma and losing both her eyes) he has his dad and some of the developers create a way to get her vision back and I mean honestly I love him how could you not love him he’s so perfect.
Watching:
Fick: Big nerd boy with thick glasses. I feel like he’d use Reddit but don’t quote me on that. Big crush on Vivinya. Boy don’t wander into the woods- oh look dead body with a curse on it don’t touch it- aaaand now he has a wisp that makes him kill people, way to go kid. Panic attack central.
Vivinya: True crime girl, yucky yucky. Probably had a knife collection. “uwu I’m insane” except she actually is and starts using Fick to kill people for her and treats him like her “Yandere boyfriend” or something cringe and gross oh god. She deserves jail. JAIL. Needs to learn guys need to give consent too. Just overall sucks 1/10.
Tommy: I mentioned him early to be Louises ex best friend and rival. He used to have a crush on Louise actually but that don’t excuse being a BITCH!!!! Also needs to learn people gotta give consent he is just as gross as Vivinya. Cheats on all the girls he gets with because he’s again, a bitch. Idk if he deserved to get murdered though I mean he was still a teenager but it’s fine. Thinks of the song Seventeen from Heathers actually this story does feel a tad reminiscent of heathers with vivinya being a crazy and wanting to off a bunch of students. Huh.
Suzannie: Tommy’s older sister who’s a detective. What a coincidence. Monotone and depressed. Probably because her little brother got murdered. Gets real awkward when she’s talking about her brothers murder(s) to Fick and Vivinya like “when I find who did this to him they’ll regret being born”. Kind of really pretty actually.
Adolescents (there isn’t actually a story here yet but don’t worry about it shhhh):
Nelson: HIMBO HIMBO H- Jock stupid idiot big dork god he’s so awkward and his main personality trait is having a crush on Naomi and being a dork when talking to her. Probably could benchpress you.
Naomi: Gamer or something and a nerd geek. Her main personality trait is having a crush on Nelson and also being a dork when talking to him. Probably a weeb and fandom dweller. Can’t draw but she commissions artists to draw. She does write copious amounts of fanfiction though.
Andrés: Ohhh the school bad boy babyyyy. Baseball bat with nails in it or something. There’s like... A thing between him in Charlotte and he wants to be a thing but she’s being difficult and makes it hard to talk to her or about her and ugh.
Charlotte: Princess, high school princess. She’s actually pretty nice when you get to know her- but she’s a diva. Ballerina after school. Best friends with Naomi and doesn’t know what she’s talking about when she mentions ships or OTPs but she listens anyways because she’s a good friend. There’s like... A thing between her and Andrés but she doesn’t know if she’s super into him but geez he’s really hot but she gets such mixed responses when she asks her friends about it and what if it doesn’t work outttt.
Marlon: They/Them but they’re okay with either pronouns they aren’t sure yet, he or she is okay... Box boy box boy. Autism... He doesn’t want to admit He’s attracted to men but he’s totally attracted to men. He lives alone which is probably illegal for his age but somehow he manages. Everyone thinks he’s “the quiet kid” and he’s really sad about it no don’t make jokes like that please guys ahh-
Sing for Me:
Kat: The color pink, addahadda(adhd), angry and loud and short. For being only like 10 and being an adorable little lesbian dressing in sparkly pink dresses she actually likes screaming a lot and would totally sing heavy metal if her producers let her. Loud and mad but gets so soft around her girlfriend. “If anything happens to Brie I’m killing everyone in this room and then myself”.
Brie: French... Birds and stuff. Loves her girlfriend even though she is so loud. So fast. So much. Likes to write pretty things. Is only like an inch taller than Kat. Filled with so much love for everything.
Elliot: The girls manager. Lots of coffee. Stressed out of his MIND please help this man. Probably gay. Seems like a smug dick but he is just a tall and lanky dork that loves puppies and wants nothing more than for Kat and Brie to be happy. Accidentally brands them as sisters and then Kat kisses Brie and- oh fuck oh shit oh no what has he done. Hides the fan and non fan responses from them. Poor guy.
Horror Hosts:
Ichabod: Hot demon who’s the son of the current ruler of hell or something. I mean he’s hot, smart, and royalty, what more do you want. I very specifically hear the dub voice of Kyoya Ootori from OHHC as his voice don’t @ me. Goat legs????? Yeah??? Don’t be rude.
Barnabie: Ohhhhhhhhh big orc teddy bear I’m crying I love him????? He puts up a more confident ploy and the given stereotypical personality orcs supposedly have but he’s just a shy boy that wants to give girls flowers and call boys pretty. Help him.
Garrison: Gary Burger. Fat hairy gay man. I mean werewolf. Wouldn’t it be funny if I made the whole werewolf thing backwards and made him transform into a HUMAN only on the full moon??? Party animal, pun absolutely intended. LOUD AND FUNNY he’s a dork. Bites. Horny on main Garrison please you’re supposed pamper and flirt with the guests but not quite that much.
Vincenzo: Token Vampire but he’s Italian because I felt like it. Talk and lanky of course. Bitch face. Blood coffee? Yeah lots of coffee. Tired. Let him sleep in Ichabod. Steps on people. Can summon and reanimate corpses but has a bitter attitude towards them because they get annoyed with him as much as he gets annoyed with- everyone else. He does have a soft spot but idk where it is. When he’s talking to guests he’s more suave and sexy though.
Kai: Genderfluid haha get it because slime fluid-... I’ll stop. Probably objectively the hottest because they can look anyway they want and shift their vocals to sound like almost anything, also probably objectively the best in bed (if you’re okay with the texture of Jell-o) and honestly come on save some for the rest of us it’s not fair. This boy can SING oh my god seranade me and whisper in my ear baby. Spunky and sassy.
Hallvor: BABY OCTOPOD BOY OHHHHH I LOVE HIM HE’S SO SWEET AND IS AN ANGEL DARLING BOY SO EMBARRASSED SO SHY SOFTEST VOICE OHHH- ohhh nooo he’s got a knife ohhhhh Hallvor baby don’t be like that ohhhh... Used to work in hentai actually (I wonder why) but quit because of immoral practices and good for him we love that. Okay he’s not actually a yandere or whatever but he DEFINITELY wants to squeeze you a little too hard and has those crazy eyes.
Carla: Main character of this OHHC monster clone. She sucks I don’t like her because listen listen she kills monsters as a living and when she tries to kill our boys here, Ichabod catches her and goes “no” but then the rest (not knowing her murderous intent) fall in love with her and Ichabod is like: “shoot well I’ll keep you alive and around but I’m watching you” and blah blah romance and feelings and character development and wow she seems like she’s grown to care about them... So Ichabod removes a curse he put to prevent her from harming them or leaving... AND THEN SHE STABS THEM ALL IN THE BACK IM CRYING. I mean she might have an extra reason for needing to kill them but I haven’t decided if I want to actually put it in the story yet so.
Fingertips:
Maria/Marianna: Was this goth angry chick and the head of these losers but after a failed heist, fire, and being betrayed and dropped from a window on a 3rd or 4th story down into flames, and going to the hospital and changing her name, she changed totally and become a soft pretty girl... And then the next three boys went “HEY BOSS WE FOUND YOU” and she went “oh no” and now she’s just an anxious wreck like “no no no no no I don’t shoot people in the face anymore no no no no no” And has a fear of hands. Also was Diamontés best friend in primary school and yes all these characters went to the K-12 school all the other characters do/did. Pretty voice. The story is mostly about her being anxious around all the other characters because who was it that betrayed her and dropped her into the flames below? Find out next week on th-
Nikki: He’s that character that you see and immediately go “oh he’s gross and is angry and is a bitch” and you’re right he is and has a cockney accent and screams a lot and probably swings a knife around a lot, but he’s got a sweet interior (somewhere in there... somewhere) Screamo heavy metal. Him and the rest of these character briefly talked about having a band and then they didn’t and then at the end of the story they do and although he plays guitar mostly, if he does do lead vocals he screams a lot. Bitch.
Anthony: Pretty boy but like the “was in the army” pretty boy vibe. Probably played football in highschool. Pyromaniac. Punches Nikki a lot. Almost gives himbo vibes sometimes, almost. Kind of likes the old timey cozy aesthetic. Plays the piano sometimes but “oh I’m not very good at it” Plays extremely well
Diamonté: TALL. Purple goth boy aesthetic hellll yeahhhh. CRAZY EYES AND THEY SPEAK VOLUMES WATCH OUT. Drums. The scary kind of quiet because he just smiles at you. Crowbar. Okay but he’s actually really sweet though. Secretly loves watching Anthony and Nikki get into fights so that’s why he rarely puts a stop to it. I think he’s a sadist. Can be a gentle giant, but can also be a not so gentle giant. The only time he’s really talkative is after copious amounts of booze.
Unnamed/Undesigned 1: Literally a pimp and he’s pretty gross. Blonde hair and pink and white clothes.
Unnamed/Undesigned 2: Chick that likes to throw knives and be angry and threatens Marianna a lot but in a quiet and monotone way, Marianna is pretty scared and hopes that these are just shallow threats uhhhhh.
Unnamed/Undesigned 3: Sells guns (without a lisence of course) and wears a bandana over his face a lot. Tired. Grumpy.
Unnamed/Undesigned 4: Like Marianna, was cold hearted and cool but then got caught in the fire and got all soft. He only has one eyes but how sweet his eyepatch is a heart. Recoved along side Marianna and they are good friends good friends tha- wait Marianna are you going back with them oh god you can’t do that oh dear oh no oh-
(I don’t have a story or name for these two but they’re my comfort ship OC’s and my current hyper fixaction right now):
Rodriquéz: I literally designed him with almost all the traits I find attractive in a guy other than freckles so as you can imagine I find him super HOT. I also designed his personality on what I find attractive from a guy so as you can imagine I find him super GREAT. But anyways he’s grumpy and closed off and monotone and smug. I really could go on for hours about how I want him to step on me I’m so sorry guys. Both him and Samantha give the “21 and having immature fun” vibes. They’re a thing but they like going to bars together and splitting off and doing their own thing (or doing someone else’s thing if you get what I mean haHhahHhahGahGhaha-) But so help them if anyone doesn’t oblige by the “no” from one of these two, someone’s gonna get beat up.
Samantha: (She literally just my personality shhhhh don’t tell anyone it’s a secret) Bubbly, energetic, a little shy by extroverted, bombshell blonde or something? It took me way too much time and effort to design her but I’m really happy with how I finally designed her, I love her outfit. She could kick me in the face and I’d say thank you. Girly drinks at the bar. Got that trauma and anxiety™️ secretly though. Skips and jumps a lot. As I’m typing this I keep looking up at the drawing of her and more and more I would want her to also step on me.
(Space Story I don’t have a nice title for):
Unnamed/Undesigned 1: So... Funny story this story originally was with me and uh... My ex I guess... So I gotta replace the MC’s... Whoops ahaha... Awkward. But anyways the MC is a robot and a girl and is a slight tsundere or smthn.
Unamed/Undesigned 2: Has a space ship, works for this organization in space that protects the galaxy. Is cocky, lazy, sly, oblivious, and an idiot. The love interest- obviously. Probably accidentally committing space crimes. (Like space pirating hAHAHA-) Kind of cool when he wants to be.
Dandelion/Dandy: CAT. WITH A JET PACK. Kind of an asshole. Fun fact used to be Polli’s cat but then when the Second MC crash landed on earth she was like “fuck this noise I’m going with space boy laterz” (okay she can’t talk but she thought it).
Zizii: Lesbian alien? Yeah???? Okay but I mean her main character trait is being a dorky back alley doctor and engineer obsessed with the MC because they’re a sentient robot with emotions and a lazer arm and rocket boots WOW!!!!!!!!
Story I want to revive:
So I had a story I started writing a long time ago about this tech theatre kid that had a crush on this other theatre kid character, but in a play that other character has to kiss another person for the show, and as the story progresses the MC convinces themselves that it isn’t just a play and that their crush actually loves and is kissing that other kid. And in the play, that other character is supposed to die. Show night comes along and they die, but like actually, and by the hands of the MC (Idk maybe like a light falls on em or smthn). So it’s a grotesque scene the audience sees as just an act. (Mutters I dunno I think my idea’s cool...) So I’ve been wanting to design these characters and work more on the story but I’m busy being obsessed with Rodriquez and Samantha so. (And the Horror Host Club too I love them too still).
Other Characters that either don’t have a specific story or are kind of like background characters:
Jacqueiliquinne Merril: Sara Berry vibes from 35mm (go look up The Ballad of Sara Berry, maybe like an animatic idk the first one that comes up is nice) But otherwise rich, pretty, popular, bitch. Tries to like, steal Louise from his squad and it’s like bro that’s unnecessary who hurt you that’s so rude. She gives Nui from Kill La Kill Vibes too. Oh she knows her name is long and annoying but you have to say the whole thing.
Brianna: Jaqueiliquinne’s sister. Big titty goth gf??? She’s pretty popular too and kind of a bitch too but to a much lesser degree. Her and he sister throw hands a lot when no one is around, you know, “THEY GIRLS ARE FIGHTINNGGGG”.
The Louise Fan Club: 4 characters I haven’t named yet. One writes fanfiction of Louise and shares it with the others and with him sometimes and although he thinks it’s a bit weird he also finds it a tad endearing and supports her. One is an aspiring photographer and is constantly asking Louise to model for him. One is an artist and draws Louise all the time. And one is an aspiring musician who writes songs based of Louise’s relationships which again he finds a little weird but endearing and supports her.
The Jacquiliquinne Merril Fan Club: Genderbent-ish (I say ish because one of the characters is a little bit less defined gender wise) versions of the Louise Fan Club. Yes I’m lazy, and no they don’t get along with them, infact they hate each others club with a passion.
Unnamed/Undesigned: I wanna make some hacker kid just because I wanna have one.
Unnamed/Undesigned: I also really wanna have a super cutesy magical girl and then a really super duper generic boring character probably like star vs the forces of evil idk I never watched that show but it looks cute.
Me: I exist in the universe fukc you I can do what I want it’s my story and I get to chose the who also if you wanna be in the mess of a universe go ahead draw yourself with my OC’s I allow and encourage and appreciate it. I literally made the Horror Host Club as a sort of Harem story and you are absolutely allowed to make out with them if you’re a monster fucker DO it GO ahead it’s canon.
and that is ALL I have FOR now
Knowing me I’ll make like 12 more characters by July, and I mean I need more characters for the high school anyways so...
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HS^2 bloggin’ mainline 2020-08-23
More homestuuuuuck
I’m a little tired today so I don’t expect much intelligent analysis out of myself, but if anything classpecty happens I doubt I’ll be able to help myself regardless.
oh, always
(EDITS: added note on horn colors, link to ask on potential Blood powers reference)
> CHAPTER 12. Really Convoluted Metaphorical Horseshit
cuuute
In the bowels of a different ship, at a moment in time that is not pinpointable in either direction from the previous interaction, another Dave raps quietly to himself.
another dave raps quietly to himself. i am glad that phrase exists it brings me joy
(LATER EDIT: A friend on Discord pointed out that throughout this entire update, Karkat's horns are #FF0000 red. They were normal candy-corn colors in previous glimpses at the ship crew, though they used a dark single-color shortcut typical of old Homestuck at one point... but THIS time it stays STARK red even when we zoom in close later. Is this just artistic liberty? Did Karkat color his horns for fashion? Does this happen to red-bloods like the Sufferer after a certain age? Just how much time has actually passed, here? We might have to wait for the commentary for this one.)
KARKAT: I WAS SAYING I THOUGHT WE MIGHT GO, I DUNNO, ANYWHERE ELSE ON THE ENTIRE SHIP WHILE THE CLOTHES WERE WASHING.
KARKAT: SEEING AS THIS DECREPIT MACHINE WE WERE SO BLESSEDLY PROVIDED WITH MAKES A WHIRRING SOUND SO PANCHAFINGLY ARHYTHMIC THAT IT THREATENS TO ERADICATE THE ENTIRE CONCEPT OF TEMPO FROM THE UNIVERSE.
Karkat really has chilled out hasnt he? like this is surprisingly level for him, and that fact is hilarious.
KARKAT: AND YET SOMEHOW BASICALLY ALL THAT HAS HAPPENED SINCE WE STARTED THE LOAD IS THAT YOU’VE BEEN USING IT AS A FUCKED UP BEAT TO WHISPER TO YOURSELF ABOUT FLOWERS TO.
oh gosh that’s why he’s rapping
> ==>
DAVE: kanaya was telling me this kids story the other day about this dude who didnt cherish a flower enough until it peaced out to do flower stuff idk its not pertinent to the story
DAVE: except the flower was a person
DAVE: because it was a metaphor
Oh right, coming back to the Little Prince stuff I was too lazy to metaphor-deep-dive into, and literally asking the same questions we were asking about who the Little Prince’s story applies to mapped here if anyone at all, like Dirk and such, or what biases were in the retelling of it and the way Kanaya phrased it. So now we’re practically mocking it by deep diving it here, hence the last page’s “DAVE: i was just thinking through some really convoluted metaphorical horseshit”, which means we’re both about to further explore AND shit all over the existence of this story metaphor until it doesn’t mean anything and most of the meaning we drew from it earlier is made a joke~
well, not “we”, cause I was too lazy, so... y’all
DAVE: anyway what goes down in the story is that once the flower lady is out of the picture
DAVE: the main character goes around making all these connections between her and everything else in the universe until every damn thing feels like a symbol for how much he fucked up and how much he will never see her again
KARKAT: THIS SEEMS PRETTY FUCKING INTENSE FOR A KID'S STORY
DAVE: yea thats pretty much what i said
Oh holy shit. That’s yet another way to put it. Are we doing a whole moral takedown of the Light aspect today? cause it sounds like we’re taking a dump on the Light aspect and RoboRose getting too obsessed and immersed in it, which would be excellent
DAVE: but i guess its not so much what the story was technically textually about but more like the version of it kanaya internalized and then told me when we were talkin about how she misses rose
exactly
DAVE: so like now im taking the story she told me she was projecting her feelings onto and projecting my feelings on top of that
yes absolutely, you just rephrased it a different way with that exact same bias
DAVE: this is just one big game of emotional projection telephone so feel free to go paraphrase it to roxy later and make it about whatever fuckin thing youre currently missing
perfect. i need an emoji for that Italian thing for when you pinch your thumb and forefinger together and kiss it
ah this’ll do:
its like the expression “choice” but in nonverbal form
[...] whatever fuckin thing youre currently missing
KARKAT: YOUR ABILITY TO GET TO THE POINT
DAVE: gotem
DAVE: anyway you’re not gonna have to miss that skill of mine for long
DAVE: get ready for this shit because i am about to slap you with the point so hard youll fall ass first into the washer
DAVE: just scrambling around in there getting all sudsy
DAVE: but your brain is gonna be so blasted from the mindfreak of a point im about to make that there wont be anything left to clean
Anytime dave is told to get to the point he is contractually obligated to spend at least 20 seconds talking about how he’ll get to the point in a way that is not getting to the point
DAVE: so its genuinely cool that kanaya can go around creating meaning that may or may not be actually present in every little thing
DAVE: connecting every feeling she has to the idea of her wife existing out there
DAVE: so i told her she should keep that shit up
DAVE: but im having the opposite issue where im struggling to find anything to be that kind of tether because every single thing i could possibly consider about what it is were doing just reminds me of yet another thing to be afraid about
Great examples of Light being good and bad! Attaching strands of connective meaning to everything. --though, in Dave’s case AND Kanaya’s case you could argue it’s both bad in terms of effects. That it’s great for Kanaya to care, but that she should be able to divest herself and live on her own terms without idealizing Rose literally everywhere she looks, personal growth which would be useful in helping bring Rose back to her in the first place. The struggle they’re looking forward to is largely philosophical, not just physical, and until Rosebot acknowledges that she was wrong it’s not over.
DAVE: everything fuckin sucks huge cosmic donkey sack and im terrified
KARKAT: OK, SO I FEEL LIKE YOU SKIPPED A COUPLE NECESSARY STEPS IN YOUR POINT CLARIFICATION PROCESS.
Pretty sure Dave was on the same page as most Epilogue and start-of-HS2 readers. This situation is pretty bleak to dump our heroes into, no matter how much we believe will be resolved in the long run.
DAVE: ok but were you going with sweet or savory please give me that much at least
KARKAT: YEAH IT WAS GOING TO BE SUNDAE-BASED.
DAVE: nice
KARKAT: YEAH.
KARKAT: DO YOU WANNA WATCH MORE GBBO AFTER THIS?
DAVE: absolutely
--ah, Great British Bake-Off, can’t say I’ve indulged
do they still have that?? did they save it from old Earth? or did they go where unflooded Britain used to be and say hey, new show reboot
KARKAT: GREAT. ANYWAY, LIKE I WAS SAYING, FOR THE LOVE OF SWEET HUMAN CHRIST, PLEASE BACK UP TO WHATEVER THE FUCK YOU’RE ACTUALLY SCARED OF.
KARKAT: ALSO COME HERE, IDIOT.
That last line is like, exactly as fucking sweet and awesome as we imagined their relationship to be. :)
> ==>
OH MY GOD THAT’S ADORABLE
DAVE: ok yeah this is a better position to unleash all my inner fears n anxieties from
indisputably.
DAVE: those times its like my mouth was saying words about the situation wherein our friends are AWOL and maybe dead but my brain wasnt fully letting me experience the emotion that goes along with them
DAVE: man its like i cant even start genuinely thinking about how afraid i actually am for rose and john without my brain flippin its wad and whiting out
DAVE: like haha fuck i hope theyre ok
DAVE: now i better make a fuckin joke before i succumb to the gaping mouth of despair waiting for me to fall in it as soon as i look down and acknowledge that its there ogling how juicy my ass looks as it trembles with terror
I really hope that the writers of HS2 know full well that this feeling? the one Dave is describing here? is what many of us who got way overinvested in the well-being of Homestuck’s surviving characters felt reading the Epilogues and Homestuck^2. So I really hope they’re working through it in a way that will result in a preponderance of GOOD THINGS happening and hope-filled situations. Cause that “can’t even think about X” feeling is too familiar, and if they understand it as well as it LOOKS like they’re getting to, I’d really like them to give us a helping hand healing.
I think that’s what they’re going for? Seems hopeful for me to think so, but they HAVE been doing better as HS2 has been going forward, from an emotional standpoint anyway; definitely better than the Epilogues. And I’ve worked through some of that stuff with the help of that, because it’s MUCH easier nowadays to think about Homestuck without my gut clenching.
DAVE: i guess im just fucked up about how to worry about dirk and be angry at him at the same time
DAVE: because if i get as unholy pissed at him as i sometimes wanna be i also gotta admit to myself that maybe i coulda done something different there
Mhmm, Karkat’s potentially a pretty good person to speak with here since he’s done so much work trying not to feel responsible for everything that’s ever gone wrong.
DAVE: also like
DAVE: and this by the way adds a whole other layer of guilt on there that i dont really know how to fuckin reckon with but
DAVE: even with all the shit hes pulled and the fact that we are more or less heading toward having to take him down
DAVE: whatever that is gonna mean and whether or not he planned it like that
DAVE: i just
DAVE: me and him had come so far with each other and it was really cool for a while to have him and i
DAVE: ugh
DAVE: i dont WANT to hate him
Yeah, Dirk and Jane’s heel-turns were really shitty for anyone who was a fan of them in the fanbase, as well.
KARKAT: WELL THEN QUIT FUCKING PICKING AT THE SEAM ON MY SHORTS AND SPIT IT OUT. THEY'RE BARELY HANGING ON TO THE DEFINITION OF "SHORTS" AS IT IS.
That is an adorably real boyfriend-laying-in-boyfriend’s-lap thing to do
DAVE: the part i mentioned before about how we really have no goddamn clue how long this trip is even gonna take
DAVE: i cant help but feel like its barely getting revved up
DAVE: and for me and roxy and jade and callie and kan thats normal shit at best and boring at worst but we all have our immortality to thank for that
DAVE: we can just dick around in space for near-eternity waiting to catch up to our friends who may or may not be our enemies now and itll be fine
DAVE: i mean no itll be categorically miserable
DAVE: but well survive it
KARKAT: HOLD THE FUCK ON.
DAVE: but you
KARKAT: DAVE.
DAVE: no lemme say this
Oh god damnit. Karkat’s limited lifespan. As if we hadn’t ALREADY covered a nauseatingly extensive gamut of disheartening topics of conversation. We really have to confront every shred of misery in their past, present and future one after the other after the other in the Epilogues and HS2, don’t we? >:(
I guess it had to be discussed, though.
DAVE: we dont talk about it much and i got shit to say about it
DAVE: its not like i never thought about how youre mortal before but i just thought wed be able to figure it out before it mattered
DAVE: come up with some kind of plan
DAVE: i was just distracted being happy with you i fucking guess and so i didnt think up a way to fix it
DAVE: and now thanks to dirk we have to work it out right the fuck now
DAVE: because i cant spend this trip just sitting around watching you get old and die
Jesus. I mean, WE know(?) that it’s not gonna be THAT many years, but THEY don’t know that.
Unless it really IS going to be that many years and HS2 is going to shamelessly take a fucking sledgehammer to our feelings for no goddamn good reason. Which it won’t! Right??? >:T
> ==>
Dishwasher ding
> Dave: Grapple with the clean, soggy consequences of the passage of time.
Hey, don’t make it a metaphor here. --though, fuck. I suppose we are dealing with everyones dirty laundry. God damnit. SURE, deal with it all story but then GET IT OUT OF THE WAY AND PUT SOME SERIOUS FUN AND LAUGHS IN HERE so we don’t feel like we’re wading through an entire garbage dump!!! *click*
Karkat’s eyebrows-only mouthless frown is really cute.
> ==>
okay Karkat explain the nope you’re lodging
> ==>
*put*
> ==>
*foot*
> ==>
DAVE: ok go on
I mean I at least appreciate the time investment in adorable boyfriends. That’s definitely something of SOME good value they’re giving us in exchange for this misery
> ==>
That Karkat image makes me wanna do that red-shaky-gif-thing with it
KARKAT: IT'S NOT LIKE I'M NEW TO THE PARTICULAR MOOBEAST WRANGLING EVENT OF SOMEONE I PREVIOUSLY LOVED BRUTALLY TURNING ON ME AND LEAVING ME TO TRY AND CRAM MY FEELINGS ABOUT THE SITUATION BACK TOGETHER ALL ON MY OWN.
True
KARKAT: HE DID THAT ON HIS OWN. AND WE MADE THE CHOICE TO GO AFTER HIM ON OUR OWN.
Yes, and you’ll possibly convince him more of that over time, though not in this short conversation
KARKAT: I WAS FOLLOWING YOUR LITTLE TRAIL OF COOKIE CRUMB FEARS UNTIL IT LEAD TO THE BIG SNACK FINALE OF WORRY ABOUT MY FRAGILE MORTAL MEATSACK.
KARKAT: IF I HAVE SOMEHOW NOT BEEN CLEAR ABOUT THIS WITH YOU YET, LET ME GO AHEAD AND RECTIFY THE SITUATION RIGHT THE FUCK NOW.
KARKAT: HANGING OUT WITH YOU ON THIS LONG TRIP TO WHO THE SHITTING FUCK KNOWS WHERE IS QUITE LITERALLY THE HAPPIEST I HAVE EVER BEEN IN MY ENTIRE MEAGER EXISTENCE.
KARKAT: I'M SO ABSOLUTELY BLISSED THE FUCK OUT OF MY MIND TO BE ABLE TO LOOK AT YOUR STUPID IMMORTALLY SMOOTH HUMAN FACE SKIN EVERY DAY AND NOT HAVE A COMPLEX ABOUT IT.
D’AWWW
And with that darkly angry expression too, that’s PERFECT
I mean it’s true. What exactly would they be doing DIFFERENTLY on Earth C other than enjoying each other like this? It’s pretty fucking great.
...hm. Isn’t this journey-not-the-destination stuff pretty Breathy? Karkat’s proving more balanced by the moment.
KARKAT: AND I'LL BE STRAIGHT WITH YOU. IT'S NOT LIKE I HAVEN'T BEEN EXPERIENCING SOME COMPLICATED GUILT, MYSELF.
KARKAT: THE FACT THAT I'M HAVING THE TIME OF MY LIFE JUST FUCKING CHILLAXING AND BEING IN LOVE IN SPACE IS A CLEARLY INCONGRUOUS WITH THE REASON I'M ACTUALLY HERE CHILLAXING TO BEGIN WITH, AND I'M NOT LETTING MYSELF FORGET THAT, EITHER.
Pff. He feels guilty for ENJOYING IT so much. <3
KARKAT: BUT I RESENT THE IMPLICATION THAT MY HAPPINESS IS REGISTERING FOR YOU AS YOU HAVING TO JUST "SIT AROUND AND WATCH ME GET OLD," BECAUSE I KNOW YOU KNOW IT'S MORE THAN THAT.
I’m glad Karkat knows that DAVE knows somewhere in him that it’s more than that, because yeah, if Karkat thought he DIDN’T know that at some level that’d be a reason to take MUCH MORE SERIOUS offense.
KARKAT: LIKE, JESUS, DAVE. YOU KNOW I'M AFRAID FOR YOU, TOO, RIGHT?
KARKAT: OR DID YOU FORGET THE WHOLE HEROIC DEATH THING?
KARKAT: I WORRY ABOUT LOSING YOU FAIRLY FUCKING REGULARLY.
Hah!!! Point taken. Karkat must view Dave as practically more fragile than HIM.
KARKAT: ONE: WE'VE BEEN THROUGH SO MUCH HELLACIOUS PANWARPING TRAUMA THAT I REFUSE TO NOT ENJOY THIS SHIT WHEN I FINALLY FUCKING GET IT, NO MATTER HOW LONG IT MAY OR MAY NOT LAST.
KARKAT: TWO: IT'S NOT LIKE WE'RE DOING NOTHING. WE’RE MOVING. WE’RE WORKING. WE’RE HEADED SPECIFICALLY TO A PLACE WHERE WE WILL UNDOUBTLEDLY ENDURE YET MORE FUCKING HELLACIOUS PANWARPING TRAUMA.
KARKAT: AND THREE: WE'RE DOING THAT BECAUSE WE HAVE FRIENDS WHO WE CARE ABOUT THAT NEED US. THAT IS OUR FOCUS, HERE. NOT OUR FEAR. IT'S ABOUT THE PEOPLE WE HAVE TO SAVE.
KARKAT: SO DON'T FUCKING WORRY ABOUT ME, DAVE. I'M FINE.
Okay, this is great and wholesome. I am now retroactively GLAD that this topic got brought up. :)
> ==>
Dave is still afraid. There is a part of him that will always be, he thinks. He has accepted this about himself. There is another feeling coursing through him too, though. It’s something he's felt before, though never quite so intensely. He looks up at Karkat and understands, viscerally, the simple power his words have. They pump through Dave’s own body, alive and warm and true.
He wonders if Karkat realizes it, or if he’s just, as always, saying what he feels as he feels it. Dave doesn’t attempt to dissect it further. There will be time for that later.
Every really loving moment like this is sort of undercut by the fact that it’s also, in some senses, part of alt!Calliope’s narration and, by extension, her fanfiction.
EDIT 2: There's also either a hint to potential Blood powers or even an explicit Blood power use here that I didn't recognize. I'm leaning towards it's-laying-the-groundwork-for-future-use-of-Blood-powers-but-isnt-magical-in-this-case.
> ==>
Smooooch!
That was nice. Still gonna wait on doing any commentary til next time or a Bonus update or two, cause I’m beat. See y’all next time!
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Geez, this person really went all out with this BS rant against the show/staff. www(.)reddit( lcom/r/RWBY/comments/kiqatg/why_rwby_will_always_be_an_okay_show/
... You know I have been trying to step away from directly addressing RWBY bullshit. But...fuck it here.
If you ever talked to me about how I felt about RWBY, I would say that RWBY pre-Volume 8 has been a touchy subject for me. I felt very validated by two videos, "Why RWBY is Disappointing" and "The White Fang Problem".
Yes yes, and people with parental issues feel validated by their abusive spouse. That means nothing, especially given that one of those videos you mentioned is riddled with bullshit.
"Why RWBY is Disappointing" validated my criticism of RWBYs writing. The fact that Miles and Kerry can't and refuse to take any kind of criticism that doesn't hurt their feelings is complete [insert bad word here]. All criticism is going to hurt your feelings. Yes, you should probably ignore the long winded rants that make themselves out to be self important- why is there a mirror here? But there is truth to all criticism.
And there’s a kernel of truth in the best lies- they’re still LIES.
Not to mention the video you mentioned here (which I am assuming is Hbomberguy’s) pulls the SAME SHIT it calls out. Like say...decrying critics pesonally attacking the writers...while proclaiming Jaune and Neptune as self inserts even though Miles AND Kerry is on the record saying that at least Jaune isn’t written by his voice actor.
I'm currently learning about Branding and how important it is to know your audience. Take self.care breaks, talk with someone you trust. Someone who isn't Miles or Kerry! If your reading this. An outside perspective can help. The reason I say that is because if you two constantly talk to each other you're going to end up in an echo chamber. TALK TO FIONA! She's literally your target audience!
Because hey, a man who contradicts himself numerous times and made personal attacks on the creators that only the most malicious and self righteous do is SOOOO trustworthy right?
Remember that tweet Hbomb brought up in his video as an example of criticism the creators should listen to? The one that demanded Miles get back to work and tried to use the catchphrase of his dead friend to manipulate him?
What a fucking target audience.
I know they mentioned ‘Fiona’ (likely the character’s voice actress) but there’s a supposed fan, one that pretty much sums up the critics, and a perfect example why it gets tossed out.
Moving on, the other video validated something I wish it didn't. "The White Fang Problem" brought to light something I knew was there but either ignored or I wasn't thinking. The White Fang has always made me a little uncomfortable. As a minority, it didn't translate well in my head. The minority are the bad guys. The Civil rights group were the bad guys. I brushed it off for a long time but after that video I couldn't.
Ah huh. So uh, the existence of Blake, Ghira, Kali, Sun, Illa, Velvet, Neon ect. is just incovienable to you huh? And don’t give me that ‘But civil rights group!’- The first episode had them break up a peaceful protest and it’s repeatedly hammered home that the current White Fang doesn’t give a SHIT about equal rights. And no, that concept is not racist- Judging from a story I read, that happened to the New Black Panthers in REAL LIFE.
It became a moral issue. Watching RWBY became a moral issue. RWBY is still pushing right wing talking points.-
Being right of you is not right wing, Especially given how you just acted.
I dont believe Miles and Kerry are racist. I do believe that Miles and Kerry both hold skewed beliefs in what right and wrong is.
Projection.
The way Miles and Kerry treat self defense and protest shows that they know nothing about being Black. They didn't do their research. They didn't talk to minorities about how they were being portrayed. They simply believed that they were right and we were wrong.
Ah huh, ah huh, ah huh-
Monty wrote the White Fang this way. You know, the ASIAN man of FOUR NATIONALITIES. So uh, congrats on saying at the absolute most- Nothing.
Now these two videos are old news. They've been posted on this very same subreddit. But you can't go around and say how much of a progressive and open minded individual you are when the fact that RWBY is a racist show and treats minorities very badly. So no one talks about them.
Or that, as I showed: these videos are bullshit.
Also its kinda homophobic too, not because of Bumblby but because despite Tera and Saphorn being a happy married couple they never kiss on screen. Have you seen happy married couples? Have you seen gay happy married couples? They literally do nothing but kiss. Its cute and adorable and deserves to be spread as far and wide. Despite the show having two straight couple kisses, granted one was in Volume but still, they couldn't get the married couple to kiss? Just saying.
... And not all gay couples are the same, even if I’m sure you’re thinking of TEENAGERS.
You know, judging people based on a preconcieved notion (AKA stereotyping) is pretty fucking bigoted itself...
Watch people be in the comments typing away that this isn't a romance show and how I shouldn't expect romance in an action adventure show despite the long list of evidence to the contrary.
Ah yes, that long list of ONE kiss by a TORPEDOED SHIP.
Such convincing rhetoric.
So you can see I was not coming into Volume 8 with my rose colored glasses. I'm sure many of you hate me because of all my comments, but I don't care. I was ready to leave RWBY. I didn't care. RWBY had taken up so much of my life but I don't care. I was not going to support a show that didn't improve.
Ah huh-
You just came in with jade-colored glass and accepted anything that validated you instead of questioning yourself. You talk about branding but that’s ALL you’ve branded yourself as.
So I watched. And something happened. Something strange. RWBY was moving in a direction I didn't expect it to. Oscar got what he deserved. The Heros were oblivious to the danger that is Salem. Things were headed in the direction that would change the characters forever. It'll be just like Beacon but better. And then they had to ruin it.
Oh we are about to get some real bullshit.
Oscar somehow convinces Hazel to betray Salem. What could have been an avenue to a multi season story arc for Oscar that included the stories villains became a shitty uninspired redemption arc. Kill me.
No he didn’t and this has been something hinted at since Volume 4.
There's still hope for the season but at this point I lost all hope.
This is the scene that killed Volume 8 for me. Oscar should not be the one who defeats Salem. In fact he should be an avenue to learn more about the villains. He served his purpose with the heroes, now he has a new arc with the villains. Oscar doesn't turn evil, but he's like a conscious. Salem doesn't want to kill him because he can be useful in finding the last remaining relics and maidens.
Assumptions.
Oscar has a heart to heart with all the villains including Salem. Oscar learns to be his own man and accepts he's now one with Ozma but he doesn't have to be another Ozma. He doesn't have to make the same decisions.
Its a great Arc for Oscar. It also makes sense for his character. Ozma feels Salem is pure evil but Oscar can learn for himself.
Headcanon.
But they won't do that. Instead they're going to take the easy way out. Like always.
Bias getting in the way.
Miles and Kerry love wrapping up each season in a little bow. This is why RWBY is so okay.
They say as every RWBY Volumes ends in a cliffhanger.
This is Beacon but if Miles and Kerry thought that RWBY should still be in Beacon. This is Beacon but without major character death. This is Beacon but the main villain loses because the heroes can't lose. Cinder isn't threatening. None of the villains are. Salem is in a Grimm! She should know everything! Why is there no creativity? Why is she not an over powered mess in A GRIMM!? Her own domain?! Why are the writers writing her not as a powerful goddess reaffirming her as a threat but as a human being. Yes I know what that sounds like but hear me out.
‘None of the villains are threatening!’
‘WHY IS THE MAIN VILLAIN NOT BEING TREATED AS THREATENING LIKE I THINK SHE IS!’
‘Why is there no creativity?’
‘DO THE MOST UNCREATIVE THING POSSIBLE!’
How about I keep mocking you?
If Salem can be out smarted by a 10 year old boy, why did it take Ozma so long to defeat her? Oscar should fail. RWBY should fail. They should go through character arcs that help them better understand Salem. Because that's how you defeat Salem.
Pushing your own thoughts onto the show. Also assumptions AGAIN.
I always believed that Ozma and Salem are very similar to Ruby and Weiss. Yes I know how it sounds but it makes sense.-
Too bad your AU fanfic doesn’t matter.
But they won't. Miles and Kerry will use Oscar to defeat Salem. Why? Who knows at this point. I dont know why Miles and Kerry keep pushing Oscar into the spotlight. Its exactly how they treated Jaune Pre-Volume 7. Jaune had to be the focus so often we hated him. And they're doing it again with Oscar
Ah huh. You know, the whole NOTHING Jaune did in Volume 6 was SOOO spotlight stealing, along with his REMOVAL FROM THE CAST FOR SEVERAL EPISODES.
Wanna bet this is another case of ‘penis on screen, me hate’?
They refuse learn and they refuse to improve. If Volume 8 doesn't improve im leaving RWBY. It doesn't matter to any of you. I'm saying it more for myself. So I don't continue with a show that constantly disappoints me. But more so, I don't support a show that views people like me as lesser. If the writing improves it proves that they can grow and get better but if it doesn't it means they will continue to treat Faunus as misguided and horrible characters. And I refuse to support a show that uses my likeness to get brownie points from people who are unaffected by such messages.
A. No, that’s who refused to do self reflection and improve.
B. Should have done that in the first place.
C. No, once again- You blind yourself from the shit that disproves you.
D. You heard him- Treat the Fanaus like shit and make the humans in the right. You know, the opposite what the show is doing now since it’s SOOO horrible.
E. You are not the center of the universe.
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college boyfriend!markhyuk au series: II (donghyuk’s pathway)
a universe in which roommates!markhyuk meet each other's s/o in class
markhyuk are roommates, my/n and dy/n are roommates, mark and dy/n take classes together and so do donghyuk and my/n — how will their fates intertwine?
genre: fluff
pairings: platonic!mark+dy/n
format: dotpoint AU
universe: non idol, college best friend
warning: a lil swearing (best get used to it lol)
masterlist
or click here to continue your friendship with paediatrics!haechan!
I ⇤ | II | ⇥ III
II: relationship consolidation.. it’s platonic i swear
the fellowship continues (mark + dy/n)
so the month that follows your first meeting
is full of
a mixture of crackheadedness and tortured artist vibes
a lot of it is sending lit memes and other shit to each other at 2am when u have an 8am the next morning and yelling at each other for keeping u up so late but then laughing again at whatever the ridiculous punchline was
“to quote shakespeare’s hamlet, act v, scene ii, line 270: no”
/deep inhale/ /unhinged laughter/
that’s your inside joke for a whole two weeks mark couldn’t get the numbers right the first few times uwu poor confused thing but he got it after a while so good on him
in the second class after the first day, you try your best to find in him the crowd of people lining up to go into the lecture theatre but you can’t and it’s almost time to go in and—
oop you’re getting swept by the current of the masses
you still try to look for him even then
and luckily your attempts pay off !bc you do see him further up the stairs
,, but he’s
,.talking to another person, sitting in a seat on the end of the row
slightly disappointed that you can’t sit together and get to know him better and hopefully become friends but !! still optimistic that you’ll just make new friends
you file into an empty seat near his row a little further down the stairs from where he was sitting
you take out your materials and start to go over your notes from the day before when
someone plops himself down on the seat next to you
you look up and before you can smile in greeting, you recognise
it’s mark!!
he says “heyyy” in that rlly soft voice idk if you’ve seen the vid of him going ʰᶦ but that’s the voice he uses here
and you’re like “oh hi! wait i thought i saw you sitting over there” pointing behind u
and he’s like “oh i just met a friend and i was saving his girlfriend’s seat haha.. she just arrived so they kicked me out and i saw u and !!yeah”
and u nod at him like “nice nice i thought you ditched me” jokingly ofc
“no no i was actually trying to find you but.. you’re too short”
“i’m what”
/whispers/ “i’m sorry omg don’t kill me pls”
/stands up straighter to assert dominance/ “say that again, marcus. say that again”
ajsagdfo cuties
“ok then should we meet somewhere before the lectures”
so you decide on the benches outside the building as Your Spot™
the lecture’s just an introduction to the first text in the syllabus bc . second class
and so there’s quite a bit of note taking,, naturally
mark forgets what the prof says before he can write it down and this particular prof, you learn, is prone to talking fast and then switching the lecture slides before anyone can write anything important down
poor mark is doing a lot of looking up at the slides and then down at his notebook and :(((
so r u but u seem to have better memory than him so u either have the lecture slides up if you’re a typer with your notes or manage to write your notes and still listen to the prof if you’re a writer idk yalls preferences so
meanwhile mark whispers under his breath,, half to himself
“what” don’t we all,, mark.. don’t we all
and he does that a few times so you look over and he’s written barely anything so at that point he’s almost just resorted to listening to the prof and not taking notes at all
then he seems to catch himself and he starts writing down whatever key terms the prof is spewing and you realise
kid’s blanking out lmfao
so you tell him you’ll send your notes over to him after class and he’s like !! R U SURE im so sorry im not used to this sPEED and i can’t put my hand up and ask him to slow down someone else has to do that
and u just nod and tell him it’s all g
so class ends and you wave goodbye (confirming to meet at the benches next week too) to go to your tutorial class that happens to be right after the lecture and so does he,,
and this is your thought process for the next five or so minutes:
there’s only one exit so surely he’s only going outside and not the same way as me
oh look he’s going the same way as me.. i’m sure he’s just going to another building ooh that’s a pretty cool tree
hey we can walk to our next classes together and then split up where we have to go in different directions
is he turning left or right left or right i’m going left left or right left or—wait oh cool
ah there’s a bunch of classes in this building too surely he’s on a different floor. see he’s going up the stairs—wait he’s going up the stairs.. so am i..,,,
nah surely he’s going up another floor
wait if he’s going up another floor.. why isn’t he going on the elevator
does he have a fear of enclosed spaces
does he have childhood trauma in an elevator
maybe he keeps fit by climbing stairs
lol this is my floor, be funny if..
hang on a second
HANG ON A SECOND
“HANG ON A SECOND” that wasn’t one of your thoughts btw that was. out loud
very loud
and he turns around, startled at your voice again
looking up from his phone and eyes getting wider than they were in their initial reaction
“wHAT THE—WAIT HOLD UP HOLD UP HOLD UP—”
he’s giggling at this point bc it’s so funny to him
“HOLD—YOU’RE?? in this tute too??”
“are we??—”
“—in the same class?” yall say that in unison bc that’s the proliferation of a Wholesome Friendship™ right there
u laugh bc wow this is my new best friend
“this is crazyyy”
“yeah what the f..” he highkey cuts himself off bc i mean day 2 guys
but then you
“exactly what the fuck...”
lmfao he knows then that it’s ok to swear with you
n e ways
y’all keep talking until your tutor arrives and lets you in the class
ofc you sit next to each other in the tute as well
you have a great time and class ends quicker than you thought bc you’re having fun and that’s always gewd
so the next few weeks u’re just vibing with each other
walking to class together after ur lectures
walking each other to other classes
studying together in the library in your spare time catching up on content and exploring ideas discussed in tutes for your shakespearean sonnets class
"o romeo, romeo, wherefore were thou and juliet teenage dumbfucks”
he couldn’t stop laughing at that for three days straight
“t..teENAGE /wheeze/ dUMBFUCKS HAHAHAHAHA”
getting pretty close basically
sharing hobbies and music tastes (u find out he plays guitar and it’s the biggest possession he brought into his dorm from his house and listens to frank ocean and john mayer a lot, watches fullmetal alchemist)
sometimes you’ll come to meet him at the benches full on catwalking down the path with your airpods in and resting bitch face on listening to some dope shit while the crowd parts for you and he’s just like O.O
how is she friends with me
he thinks you’re so cool it’s cute
but he’s also alr convinced himself that you’re so out of his league he highkey won’t dare try and make a move
n e ways
he sees ur airpods and he’s like “aren’t you afraid you’re gonna lose them one day”
and you just look at him and go “do i look like a fool, marcus”
he laughs so hard at that
complaining to you abt his roommate in real time over text like
marcus the fool 🤡: “dude he’s whining at me to ‘play with him’ i don’t want to play with him”
marcus the fool 🤡: “now he’s getting jealous of u”
marcus the fool 🤡: “he asks who u think u r”
you: “tell him i would fight him”
marcus the fool 🤡: “he says u won’t win”
you: “bet”
marcus the fool 🤡: “i told him u don’t need to fight for my attention bc uve alr got it”
marcus the fool 🤡: “now he’s fake crying”
marcus the fool 🤡: “he’s telling me to leave the house and leave the kids”
you: “am i a homewrecker now”
marcus the fool 🤡: “he calls u a homewrecker”
you: “tell him i’ll kiss it better”
one day like a month or so into your friendship
you rush to the benches with that look on your face that says you’re about to murder someone which usually disappears when you see him and take out your airpods bc rbf
so he ,, approaches with caution ,,, easy does it,,
yes he’s wondering if it’s your time of month
ngl it åctually was which makes things worse
t e n t a t i v e l y he asks on the way into the lecture theatre
“hey dy/n u ok?? u look.. ok nvm”
bc u lowkey glared at him but u didn’t mean to i swear u just looked at him but u were alr in a bad mood
so ure like “sorry yes i’m fine i didn’t have my coffee today so i may be a bit cranky”
“what happened? u sleep in or smth”
“yeah i slept at 4 last night”
“wHY did u do that”
“idK but i was running late just now and the line at the cafe was so long i stood in line for five minutes and i said nop class is abt to start”
“oh okey”
this keeps bugging him all throughout the lecture
so he turns to u when the lecture is over and he’s like
“u have another lecture next right”
“yes marcus i have another lecture that you’re taking with me”
“come ditch with me i’ll shout u a coffee”
“what really”
“for sure, we can catch up on the lecture in the library tonight”
and you remember that you’d made plans with your roommate my/n to go to the library that night anyway so you agree and let him know
so he’s like “oh rlly? can i bring my roomie along too he probs doesn’t have other plans anyway i hear they’re doing some kind of project so he better not be going anywhere” with a lil frown uwu angery mark
“sure don’t see why not. we’ll all study together”
“nice i’ll let him know”
“cool”
cool
u see where i’m going with this
waggles eyebrows
wink wink nudge nudge
click here to continue your friendship with paediatrics!haechan!
I ⇤ | II | ⇥ III
#dreamwritersnet#neohours#neowriters#nct au#markhyuck au#nct 127 au#nct dream au#nct x reader#markhyuck x reader#nct 127 x reader#nct dream x reader#mark x reader#haechan x reader#donghyuck x reader#Mark AU#haechan au#donghyuck au#nct college#nct college au#eng lit mark#paediatrics haechan
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Shut Up And Kiss Me [11/?]
Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x reader
Style: Multichapter
WC: 2k
Warnings: mention of blackout, exstreme awkwardness,
Summary: You and Professor Hiddleston have been colleagues for many years now, and through those years the hatred for each other has only grown. Now, as a new school year starts, you’re being told that you have to share a classroom or a class. Neither are happy about the outcome, but knowing you’ll never come to an agreement, you let the class choose for you. Team-teaching is rare in 2019, but it is a lot harder to do when you can’t stand the person you’re doing it with.
A/N: aaaa, i have been so absent, I know. This has taken forever, but now I can promise you I’m gonna be back. Not only will this, hopefully be updated more often (I have inspiration), but I also got like a ton of writing mojo (wrote 4k words yesterday) and a Loki!Piarate au is soon done and i have other shits, my requests are becoming easier though turns out they’re getting long. Anyways, I hope this can please you and I hope to be able to post more in the coming time. I love you all so much ^_^ P.S. it’s close to christmas and a christmas party... ;)
Previous | Seires Masterlist | Part Twelve
You can’t place the feeling. Not really. All you know is that something feels… off. Wrong.
It’s Sunday, three days since halloween and you met Emma’s friends. Even though that was fun and all, the night could have been better had you stuck with the people you know. Not only would you be able to continue to get Tom being nice (which had your heart race a mile a minute), but you could also, maybe, have more fun seeing as you wouldn’t panic everytime you said something.
However, three days later, something feels off. You’re not even sure if it has anything to do with Halloween (if it has anything to do with Tom lending you his coat because you were barely dressed in your costume), or if it has something to do with the fact that you have no recollection of what you did last night.
All you know is that something is not as it should be.
You try to shake off the feeling and reach for your phone, where it lies on your nightstand. The clock on it reads 07.39 AM and you curse your annoying drunk self for always making sure you wake up early―it’s not that you go to bed early, no rather late actually (like you gotta stay up ‘til at least 3 AM), but more that whenever you do get drunk, you actually fall asleep right away and you actually sleep. Maybe that’s the cure.
Despite wanting to continue your slumber, you decide to get up. Maybe you can figure out what’s giving you this feeling of something being amiss.
One slightly wrong, though not that surprising, thing lies on your couch. Y/BFF/N has their face half planted in one of your pillows, though the angle works for them to breathe. One arm hangs loosely off the couch and their legs have tangled themselves in a blanket, where one is thrown over the back of the couch. You have no idea how that can be comfortable, and you bet they’ll tell you how much they regret it when they wake up.
Yet, you know that’s not the feeling that haunts you. Seeing your best friend crashing on your couch is not a rare sight, though it is becoming rarer as time passes.
Nothing is amiss in your apartment. Everything where you left it when you went out last night, even the now half-full bottle of wine you opened before leaving that sits on your countertop.
The mystery continues, but the answers are not in your apartment. One thing’s for sure, you’re not about to go out and find out.
Before you decide to check any messages or notifications, you find a glass, fill it with water and down it in seconds. Pulling your head back you become aware of the ache in it, and with the water helping you clear your mind a little, the pounding slowly creeps into a loud drum.
Okay, so you’re not getting away from being hungover. Good to know.
Not being able to focus with the drums really taking off in your head, you rush to the bathroom and find aspirin. You take two and swallow them with another glass of water. It’s gonna take a little while before they help so you slide down the bathroom wall and sit there to let yourself ease into the beating that keeps interrupting your thoughts.
It feels like it takes forever, but when you check the clock, the pounding starts to wind down a little after more or less fifteen minutes. You don’t have the energy to get up from the warmth of the bathroom floor, so you continue to sit as you open your phone.
You have three snaps, five messenger texts, two texts and eleven missed phone calls. The phonecalls belong to three people; three from Tom (your heart skips a beat at the thought that he thinks of you), six from Benedict, and surprisingly, two from Chris.
The two texts are one message of having voicemails (three), and one message from Tom; I heard from Benedict. He’s worried, are you okay? - Tom. You ignore it, making a note to reply and listen to the voicemails after checking messenger and snap.
It takes three seconds to regret checking snap. Two of the snaps are from people you have no idea who are, but who you probably added last night. The last one is a video of you from Y/BFF/N embarrassing yourself to the nth degree on the dance floor. You know they saved it, and you know there is no point in asking to delete it―no matter what, you know they won’t post it anywhere.
In a state of shock, checking messenger becomes more automated that anything else. You read the messages; one with a similar name to one of the snap usernames that you ignore and delete the friend request seeing as the message itself is not one you want; one that’s from a groupchat with you, Y/BFF/N and another mutual friend that you don’t see that often as they live abroad, but whom you trust fully and therefore has replied to your drunk texts about wanting to fuck a certain person whose name shall not be mentioned; three texts from Chris asking what’s going on, if you’re okay and if there’s anything he can do to help. You only reply to Chris’s by asking why he wonders, saying yes and asking him if he knows anything about what happened last night―you do not admit to having no memory of the evening.
Waiting for a reply you listen to the voicemails. All three are from Benedict; one he sounds mad in, one he sounds worried in, and one he threatens to call the police and tell them that you’re missing and that you might be in danger―it feels a little weird not knowing if that actually happened.
You sigh, blowing your hair so it falls in your face. Well, well, gotta keep searching.
In the living room, Y/BFF/N lies in the same position as before. You ignore them, instead focusing on the low rumble from your stomach.
Hopefully, some food will help clear the mystery.
The food itself doesn’t help. However, the replies from Chris does.
Chris: asking because you seemed very drunk and i wanted to know you’re okay, good that you are, and no, i don’t know since you never really gave me anything to go on
You: okay, well, there are no other messages between us, anything I did to alert you??
Chris: uhh, no, actually it was Tom that called me
You: Tom?? Hiddleston?? The dude who I teach with??
Chris: yeah… i was surprised too, maybe talk to him?
You: yeah, im gonna
Of course, that’s what you tell Chris. You know, with every ounce of your body, that you will not pick up the phone and either text or call him because you know that that would be the death of you.
You will wait, as long as you can, to ask Tom why he called Chris. The thought of it alone just has that feeling of wrongness expand. You shake it off, put away your phone and return your attention to your food.
--
Going into work on Monday is not on your list of fun activities, but it is something you have to do. You suppose it would have been on your list of fun if not for the looming conversation you need to have with a certain professor.
It takes little time after your first class to meet him. Usually, your schedules don’t coincide but you guess the universe isn’t on your side today.
“Hi.” Tom purses his lips and puts his hands in his pockets.
You nod. “Hi.”
“How was your weekend?” he asks.
“It was good,” you say and nod. “You know what, I can’t really talk right now. Catch you later?” You shoot him a pained smile and hurry away before Tom can answer. There is no way you’ve ever been in a more awkward situation (and the worst part is that you don’t even know what it is that made it awkward―what the fuck did you say?!).
You try not to think too hard about it as you make your way back to your office. With two hours of office time, you can get back to focusing on your research project and get your mind off Saturday night and your possibly very embarrassing utterance to Tom.
God, what the fuck did you say?
It takes a solid five minutes for your mind to rush back to what’s been circling around the last twenty-four hours.
“Okay, you know what?” you say out loud to the silence of your office. It does not reply back. However, in the need to say it out loud, you act as if it did. “I have to just ask. I’m gonna go to wherever he currently is and I’m gonna ask what I said and I’m gonna cut right to the chase and it’s gonna be alright. It’s gonna be okay. It’s probably not as bad as I think it is.”
However, you don’t get up. It’s like you’re glued to your chair and no matter how much the nerves in your brain tells your legs to get up, they don’t move.
For two hours, you just sit there. Almost so you’re late to class even.
--
“We’re doing a what?”
Both you and Tom frown at Dean McHallan who, though with a slight roll of his eyes, nods. “You’re going to a conference in Scotland. I know it’s sudden and it seems weird, but they specifically asked for you two to speak.”
You raise a brow. “They asked for us to speak about what exactly? Do I have to prepare some kind of presentation or something now because, honestly, I’m not ready for that.”
“They asked for you both to speak on team-teaching creative writing. They wanted input from your students as well so during the week now, ask them some questions that you can quote them on. And they wanted you, Y/N, to speak on your research project as they find it interesting and they weirdly enough hadn’t thought about it before. They would love to hear how you’re going about it.”
Your mind races as you nod along to his words. What are you supposed to do? Say no, nope, you can’t do that. You literally have no choice because he’s already said you’re going and McHallan makes the final decisions and he also knows neither of you really have anything that important going on currently.
“Okay, I guess we’re going to Scotland next week.” You’ve always wanted to go so maybe it’s an opportunity you should take anyway.
“It’s settled then. Tom?”
The literature professor nods. “I can’t argue with your reasoning so I guess we’re going. I have some inquiries. Accomodations? Travel? Food? And when?”
McHallan hands each of you a piece of paper. “You will be in the same hotel, though different rooms. I think they’ll be just across from each other or something. You’ll fly there on wednesday morning, together, and have all wednesday evening to settle in and make the last preparations and so on. Food will be accounted for unless you eat above budget. There are breakfast and dinner included at the hotel, and lunch is served with the conference. If you eat anything outside of that it will be out of your own pocket. The schedule for the conference is on the back of that paper and the information you need about your flights just under there.”
You nod, going over the paper as McHallan talks and making different mental notes. Some of those make no sense, and one of them is ‘get trapped somewhere so you have to ask Tom what you did on Saturday’, though you’re afraid that one might be the hardest one to see through with.
#tom hiddleston#tom hiddleston x reader#tom hiddleston fanfic#tom hiddleston imagine#tom hiddleston fanfiction#fanfic#fanfiction#thomas william hiddleston#twh#marvel#loki#rpf#real people fanfiction#professors au#professor hiddleston#tom hiddleston professor#slowburn#enemies to lovers#au
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Season 5 Lucifer
welcome to my unsolicited thoughts about Season 5 of Lucifer.
as an avid and veteran series binger AND a talker-while-watching-a-movie-or-series-but-does-not-want-to-spoil-anything-for-my-friends type of person, i have finally dedicated a space and found a good way to let all my thoughts out as i watch a movie or series when i am alone when i can’t bother a lot of people because (1) they don’t want to be bothered and (2) i don’t want to spoil things for them.
so here are my thoughts, and of course, SPOILERS AHEAD.
BTW, i LOVED all of Lucifer! but this season was a slow burn for me.
ep1
drug scene at Lux; is Amenadiel mean now?
so is Lucifer himself in his own hell loop when he became the ruler of hell? his own guilt towards his father? idk (to be frank, i don’t remember the past episodes except for the fact that he is now back in hell)
the premise of the first episode is cute!
side note after the title card: i remember how much i loved the soundtrack for Lucifer!
Maze is still hot.
I love how Maze and Chloe’s relationship developed and how they don’t have to use words to communicate.
Amenadiel’s and the Psychologist’s house HAHAHAHA i love it.
is Charlie Jesus? His mom’s faith in front of Ella is like every mom plus every religious person ever haha
YES. ELLA. YOU. DESERVE. A. GOOD. GUY.
self-improvement is now a meme, huh?
Dan is me.
comment on drug scene: Amenadiel is still the same, haha!
Maze and the card, haha!
how was the guy in the mask face (did i just say mask face?) blurred but in the party, Los Angeles was in perfect accuracy. excuse me.
coming out of the dead: “oh sorry, that’s so gross!” LORDT HAHA
love you, Charlie! hope you don’t feel like you have to perform because your mom expects a lot from you and that’s so ironic because she’s a psychologist!
Dan’s speeches about parenting: i get it tho, parents try to love their child, sometimes, they just don’t know how
also, i think it’s the sister but Chloe’s just a softie
lol Maze is jealous that Chloe got to talk to Lucifer and trying to say that they don’t need Lucifer.
OOF MAZE.
i forgot about what happened with Eve.
GUYS THE MURDERER IS LITERALLY GOING TO ESCAPE.
the amount of projection as defense mechanism in this episode is too much it feels like it’s too on the nose.
but i do love the parallel between what’s happening on Earth and in hell.
the amount of layers in this question either it’s Lucifer’s or his or his sister’s (assuming it is his sister who was behind his murder)
ok apparently it’s not his sister.
me in law school:
sana all kaya kang mahalin na babalik from hell. kilig aq.
also, after all these years, Lucifer’s house has been so clean!!! wala man lang alikabok
if she’ll be fine without him then who tf is that?
ok i read the synopsis for the next couple of episodes. i don’t like spoilers. don’t make the same mistake.
ep2
i’m Ella when it comes to my friends’ special people HAHA
also, i love the slight lean to one side to show us that this is not the real Lucifer.
why does he have to be naked???
it’s so funny for me how they have to reestablish him. LUCIFER NEVER LIES HAHAHAHAHA yes we can remember now after you repeated it 3x.
ALSO WHY IS EVERYTHING TO ON THE NOSE. EVERY SECOND IS A METAPHOR FOR SOMETHING. was it always like this?
Oh Michael. Nice. Was he an archer? We love the American accent.
how can Amenadiel not know that was Michael? GANON KA IDENTICAL SIZ?
we love the unnecessary car chase just to reinstate the fact that this is a crime show
that slomo with the wings!!!
also everything is so slow with this show!!! idk why but everything feels just a little bit slower (or maybe i just want lucifer and chloe to be together? idk)
gwapo ni lucifer nung nagmomol sila ni Maze pls
cringe ng elevator scene
ykw. i think it’s because i like the lucifer character that’s why i’m impatient. he hasn’t been appearing the way i want him to.
see. you don’t have to remind me so much about the show because i know he was supposed to say “what is it that you truly desire” not fear. I FEEL LIKE THIS SEASON IS DUMBING THE PEOPLE WHO LOVED THE SHOW FOR SO LONG. okay sige.
either she knows it’s not him or SHE’S REALLY THAT NICE AND POWERFUL OF A HUMAN BEING.
oh i’ve been questioning whether they had sex already and this episode answered my question
CRINGE coffee scene: the spoon???
random question: are angels virgins? so is Michael a virgin?
what kind of a person would just go deep on someone else’s pocket just because they ran out of money?
knew it Maze won’t do Chloe dirty like that!
thanks Chloe. u know better than that. (full disclosure: I THOUGHT SHE WAS ACTING BADLY APPARENTLY A GOOD ACTOR CAN ACT BADLY TO PROVE A POINT?)
literally just liked it and now there’s a new secret that was said too soon.
God baka naman pwede mo ko gawing Chloe Decker char.
AH so interesting. Lucifer = Desire. Michael = Fear. Too on the nose again but that time, i needed the guidance because i am a dumbass.
God ain’t raising his children right!
ep3
yes explain everything to me it’s literally not like we have been binging this show for 2 hours straight
see, the Lucifer character is really endearing. i’m enjoying myself again hahaha. (well, i guess Lucifer when he’s with Chloe?)
can i just say that Tom Ellis was born for that role. he fits is so well that him acting as his own twin doesn’t sit well with me.
i just feel like this show was written by a psychologist who liked watching murder shows.
it’s Lucifer, Chloe!!! siya yon.
ep4
love Lucifer-Chloe tandem!
we love how the actors can sing and the show gives them a chance...
one thought: is everyone going to play a double of who they are?
also is Maze the daughter of Lucifer?
i love how they’re transcending mediums, reminds me of Community with their random episodes.
there you go, Chloe’s doing the double acting too.
Now it’s Linda. (so maybe this is the episode i was asking about earlier).
Now it’s Ella.
omg is this why i loved fleabag, it took forever for the Priest and Fleabag to finally do it? no. i just love the Priest.
Charlotte’s back! and the distance from the table shows how not okay they are. okay.
green screen while driving i love it.
now, Daniel!
we love gender fluidity? i guess. i’m not sure how you call it but i appreciate.
Lilith’s dress for the second song. OMG.
there again to make us dumb. after we just watched the whole thing happen, they retell the whole story again. damn. they think we dumb.
literally this season is making every girl kiss Chloe.
why did she blow the ring? was that her life?
what’s that song in the end?
OH that was the reason why she was retelling everything.
damn celestial beings are the worst parents.
ep5
i wanna be Dr. Linda Martin please.
i appreciate Lucifer wearing the bracelet until now. (but i expected nothing less)
i’ve always loved how people reacted to Amenadiel. he always seemed nerdy but these are times where he truly shine and im so happy.
i forgot. i think i was showering that time that Michael and Lucifer fought and theyre hella dumb. ok lets go toxic masculinity mixed with daddy issues.
i know they’re too on the nose ABOUT EVERYTHING but i do like the debate about free will and predestination
honestly i don’t know what’s Chloe’s issue is with being made by God probably just because i’m lazy and i just want to lay everything in His hands but coming from a very atheistic perspective where she comes from i kinda get it. i guess my only reasoning why i’m okay with God’s reason is with her is because of my fear of the unknown; my current fear with not knowing my true purpose. at least she got hers! what is she complaining about?
oh i get it now, but that’s why there’s free will Chloe (or idk, idk how God works; there’s currently no electricity in my house rn. i don’t get how that works even if we pay for our electricity all the time, how am I suppose to know God’s plans?)
but aren’t well created for something else? looking at a selfish perspective, maybe He created all of us just because He wanted to.
wow. literally when the nun kissed Amenadiel, the lights in our house opened up. if that ain’t God. idk who that is.
wow that’s so interesting.
“There are no shortcuts.” 🥺
he exposed himself i’m interested. what if i were the one to whom that was exposed to... how would i react?
another sample of them explaining to us WHAT WE ALREADY CAN INFER FROM THE SHOW (the conversation actually continues to dumb it down for the audience) but i get it. it’s religion and fiction built together.
oh i just cringed i almost vomited with this
also can i just share these. these are the funniest thing Chloe said on the show.
ep6
OOF what a horrifying way to start the episode (after the beach fiasco)
they’re holding us. that’s so adorable!!!
ugh. im still cringing.
yes jowa for ella yes pls. ELLA YOU SAID YOU WANT A NICE GUY!!! HE’S THERE!!! i’ll take him if you won’t!
Chloe if you don’t want Lucifer, i’ll take him too!
can i say how proud i am of Chloe and Dan’s relationship. it’s very healthy for what they are. add Lucifer and Dan to that too! we love men.
also the women in this show have bad taste in men. (except for who Linda married, i guess)
we love the seasonal girl’s night!
that whole charlie thing being amused by lucifer’s devil face is the best bit
was it Michael calling? and oh noooo ;(
FUCKEN MICHAEL
ngl i could have waited for another season for them to have sex on season 6 episode 6 but sure have it at season 5.
ep7
we love a person who wakes up and is not pretty. princess anna who? (i mean she is wearing full on make up, but we’re okay with that snore)
Deckerstar!! they made a word for it
our mojo??? does it only work on lucifer or does it work when she does it to others as well, we shall find out.
oh no! Lucifer’s isn’t working at all HAHAHAHA
it’s currently 2:19 AM. i am tired and sleepy.
Dan talking to Charlotte 🥺🥺🥺🥺
Fucking Michael
oh he emphasized archangel Michael. with my limited knowledge being raised Catholic, i was going to ask earlier if he was an archer because he had crooked shoulders. AND I JUST CHECKED. ARCHANGEL MEANS HIGH RANKING ANGEL NOT AN ANGEL WHO’S A FUCKING ARCHER. me being raised Cathlolic means nothing. HAHAHH
now i’m realizing if i see an angel, maybe i won’t be in the situation where i’ll see Amenadiel but Michael
NO NO NO AMENADIEL
i love this HAHAHAHAHA
knew it. called it! worked on lucifer ONLY. HOW CAN TWO PEOPLE BE THAT MADE FOR EACH OTHER. LORD BAKA NAMAN.
i’m ella shipping them.
THEYRE SPEAKING TAGALOG HHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH and HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH
what song was that? “When it hurts, just to breathe” same
The Shining reference no thank you pls
NAAAH i really can’t do horror things especially not with things i truly fear and when i don’t have a curtain on. No thanks.
14:54 and i’m watching again open the lights bro, it’s easier to find clues that way also i do get that they’re closing it to ensure that the killer is not there but theyre also moving like the killer is not there anyway so better open up the lights! tho i really know nothing about crime solving (i just typed crime solving instead of solving crimes didn’t i)
we stan ella’s healthy relationship!!!
can i just say there was a time where i can’t even say serial killer out loud so this is really hard for me to watch alone
i know that he’s vulnerable around the detective. BUT SHE SAID HE CHOSE TO BE SO BY NOW HE SHOULDN’T BE AFFECTED BY WHAT HE DID.
Fucken Michael.
ep8
how attractive can you be that even in slow motion, you look great.
oh apparently he did not die.
ALSO OO NGA CHLOE. US2 MO SIYA MAMATAY TEH.
CHLOE THE OVERTHINKER but i get it. BUT STILL.
you know that montage of people just studying and it’s now happening to chloe trying to solve a crime. that’s my cinematography goal HAHAHA. it’s been awhile since i’ve been invested in studying like that.
Lucifer can be just so immature some times
is KillShare based off of SkillShare?
also i’m thinking that Chloe was either taken by Michael or Dan or the SK.
that ring of Lucifer on Maze is probably the longest ring someone has waited for.
i love Maze’s eye make up! ALL THE TIME!
if the lady here is not detective and they’re relieved. that’s just fucked up, man. they were slightly relieved. that’s good acting HAHAHAHAHA.
I’M JUST PRAYING TO GOD THAT PETE REALLY IS A GOOD GUY AND NOT THE SERIAL KILLER COZ I CAN’T HATE THAT GUY PLEASE. the key and the research!!! WTF. stop trying to be smart, show!!!
his mojo is back, does that mean Chloe is gone? 😢
OH AFTER THE TAPES, I THINK IT IS THE BOYFRIEND. DAMN SHE’S REALLY INTO BAD MEN, ISN’T SHE?
I’M SO SCARED. THE SUSPENSE IS KILLING ME.
THE FLOWERS ARE FRIGGIN KILLING ME.
kamukha niya pa si Penn Badgley, nice.
DOES HE GENUINELY LIKE HER OR IS THE KISS TO THROW HER OFF GUARD.
AH NO. i think he genuinely likes her. except that she... you know found that he’s a fucking murderer
HAHAHA PETE
right??? why does this show have to say everything out loud like don’t already know.
oh he just used her but then he liked her. idk. the way he speaks too, so nonchalant.
preach, ELLA!!!! shout out to those who had crappy childhoods and are not serial killers! that’s the bare minimum i guess.
go, Ella!!! know your worth!
lol made me love Pete, he’s funny.
ok my assumptions were right-ish.
HAHAHA, his american accent.
his choosing to be bot vulnerable around her anymore, Michael, i think is a way of him staying alive for Chloe but ofc Chloe will think that Lucifer would rather have his vulnerability than to be with her.
baka di lang love language ni Lucifer words of affirmation, okay! HE SAVED HER LIFE SO MANY TIMES AND NOW SHE’S DOUBTING BECAUSE HE HASN’T SAID I LOVE YOU YET??? SIZ. HE LITERALLY LEFT HELL FOR YOU.
MICHAEL STOP. Michael the shit stirrer. we all have that one friend.
awa me kay Maze. she’s like a lost dog throughout the show.
does Michael want to be God?
skipped thru the speech. cringe.
what’s Amenadiel’s problem with his child having a normal cold? what’s wrong if he’s a mere mortal?
WHY IS EVERYONE IN THIS SHO’W SO INSECURE. i get so annoyed every time Chloe’s mad that Lucifer doesn’t get what he wants
it’s just that i resonate with Lucifer. it’s hard for me to say i love you and now i think Amenadiel stopped time.
oh. i thought Amenadiel’s fears about Charlie being mortal was superficial, i just realized that he was afraid that his child was going to die. but, he can take him to heaven like what he did with Charlotte, right?
oh Michael.
MAZE! MICHAEL IS A PATHOLOGICAL LIAR!!!! you’re fine! i don’t have a soul either.
celestial beings and their daddy issues and inability to communicate with one another and the desire to fight it out as if that’s the solution
HOTTEST BROTHERS EVER DAMN.
itong si God ngayon lang magpapakita anuna siz.
WHY ISN’T HE PLAYED BY MORGAN FREEMAN BUT OK.
CLIFFHANGER!!! IM MAD.
ep 8 should have been called blueballz tbh
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can i request a yandere jimin that’s so dependent on the reader that when she goes to work and he stays home (because he’s out of work/works at home), he literally destroys himself and ends up going to her work looking like he was mauled by a bear (not literally but i hope you get the point). it’s totally fine if you don’t do it!!! — 🐹
Labor of Love
word count: 1.7k
author/admin: kimseokmomjins🥀
a/n: this contains extremely graphic depictions of self-harm and mentions of suicide, please read at your own discretion
The violent vibrations of your cellphone caused you to awake with a startle. You scrambled to silence your phone, knowing Jimin was not fond of his sleep being interrupted by nuisances, but hesitated when you saw your superior’s name illuminating the screen.
Manager Kim never called you, always electing to communicate through e-mail, so his call was a surprise to you, to say the least. Something must’ve gone wrong with the latest project. Carefully sliding out of the sheets so as to not wake Jimin, you scuttled away to your adjoining bathroom and accepted the call. Manager Kim gave you no room to speak, immediately cutting to the chase the second you answered.
“You need to come in now. Our client received your design and he claims it’s not what he asked for. Now the bastard wants something bigger, flashier, and done in 3 hours.” You cupped your hand around the receiver, keeping your voice hushed. “Namjoon, you know I can’t, I have—”
“Y/N,” he pleaded, “Please. I let you work from home seven days a week, I keep our correspondence solely through e-mail. I don’t ask questions about your lifestyle. I’m only asking you to help just this once.” His desperation pulled at your heartstrings, reminding you a lot of a certain someone. Inhaling, you shut your eyes tightly and acquiesced. “Fine, Namjoon. I’ll come in, but only for an hour or two.” You could practically hear the tension in his voice dissipate as he thanked you for your cooperation. “I knew I could count on you! I’ll see you soon, be prepared for a shitstorm.” Manager Kim ended the call abruptly, leaving you to contemplate your next decision.
There was no way Jimin would let you go into work, much less on such short notice. Some would call him controlling, or even downright insane, but to you, he was just a man with an extremely unhealthy inferiority complex. Jimin was someone who loved fiercely, passionately, but never believed people could reciprocate those same feelings towards him. Not even you, his wife of 3 years, who loved him more than life itself—who held him in her arms after every breakdown, every relapse.
But being the sole breadwinner of the household meant you had to make the difficult choice: either go to the office or get fired. Either way, you either risked potentially losing Jimin, or losing your house, the car and health insurance. Neither was ideal, but lately, Jimin had been in high spirits. His old scars had finally begun to heal, meaning he hadn’t cut himself in at least three weeks. Maybe he was capable of staying home alone for a few hours.
You looked at your phone’s digital clock. 6:58 a.m. Jimin seldom got up before noon, so you figured if you left now while he was asleep, you could make it back before he woke up. You rushed to make yourself presentable, trying to take as little time as possible, while also being as quiet as you could. Sneaking back into the bedroom, you knelt down on Jimin’s side of the bed and brushed the hair out of his face. Pressing your lips to his forehead, you gave him a tender kiss, hoping it wouldn’t be your last. “Minnie, baby,” you murmured so as to not stir him. He hummed in response, still deep in REM sleep, but slightly conscious. You continued, “I need to run to the office, okay? I’ll be back soon. I love you.” Jimin mumbled something incoherent and curled into his pillow, looking absolutely serene.
Collecting your purse, you head past the kitchen, your eyes catching sight of the knife block that sat on the marble countertop. Fearing Jimin might potentially spiral and relapse, you carried the heavy block to the hall closet and hid it behind a stack of quilts, hoping Jimin wouldn’t be desperate enough to tear apart the closet. With a determined nod of your head, you set off to work, saying your silent prayers that everything would be okay.
•·················•·················•
When Namjoon said work would be a shitstorm, he wasn’t exaggerating. Your client, a semi-famous rapper by the name of Agust D, whatever the hell that meant, decided that he didn’t like his promotional advertisements. Three days before his comeback. You were able to get the redesign done, but not without him hovering over your back and micromanaging every minuscule detail, down to the smallest pixel. After hours of edits, you finally had a moment to relax.
Checking your phone, your eyes widened when you saw that it was currently one in the afternoon. What was even more alarming was that you had over 13 missed calls and 54 unread text messages from Jimin. Fearing the worst, you unlocked your phone and began skimming through his messages, a surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins.
[Minnie 8:21 a.m]: hey baby, where’d you go?
[Minnie 8:23 a.m]: baby?
[Minnie 8:25 a.m]: Y/N?
[Minnie 8:30 a.m]: hello?????
[Minnie 8:34 a.m]: whatever you’re doing isn’t funny baby. please respond.
Your thumb scrolled upwards, towards the newer messages. The more recent, the more incoherent and unstable Jimin’s texts became.
[Minnie 12:41 p.m]: i get hthat u dotn lovve me anymore and im soty for ebeingf stupoid and ugly and uselass im sorry for a being patheic
[Minnie 12:41 p.m]: i’
[Minnie 12:41 p.m]: i’ll end it all fro u
[Minnie 12:42 p.m]: YOU’RE MY FUCKOING EVERYTHISNG YOU FUCKING DONT UNETRESTAND I FUCKIGN NEED U Y/N
[Minnie 12:43 p.m]: DO I NEEFD TO CARVE YIUR NAME INTWO MY CHEST TO MAKE YOU HAPPY?????
By now, fat, hot tears were streaming down your face, dotting the screen of your phone. You eyed the last message you had received, an attachment sent at exactly 1 p.m. Sprinting out of the office without a single word to your superior or client, you frantically played the voice message Jimin had sent. His soft voice echoed in the corridor as you dashed down the stairs and towards the parking garage, filling your heart and mind with worry.
‘Y/N, my love, my life, my everything,’ he began, his voice hoarse and cracking, likely from emotional duress. ‘You’ve abandoned me, and I don’t blame you. I’m stupid, incompetent and a waste of space. You complete me, I am nothing without you. And now that you’ve left me, I have nothing else to live for.’ Fumbling around in your purse in search for your car keys, you finally found the object of your search and unlocked your car, hurriedly shoving the keys in the ignition and peeling out of the garage. You couldn’t bear listening to more of the voice message, instead choosing to dial Jimin with the assistance of your Bluetooth controls. Each one was immediately redirected to voicemail, but you persisted in the barrage of phone calls.
What was no more than a 12-minute drive felt like millennia, your heart thumping so hard that you heard your pulse reverberating in your ears. You raced up the stairs of your unit, taking them two at a time, hoping that it wasn’t too late—pleading with any Higher, Holy beings to let Jimin be okay. Your hands trembled so furiously that it was nearly impossible to unlock your door until finally, you were somehow able to enter the threshold of your apartment. Greeted with nothing but an eerie silence, you began to fear the worst.
Usually, when Jimin had a breakdown, he screamed and destroyed everything in sight, but all of your decor was exactly as how you’d left it in the morning. The only trace your husband’s presence was the shattered picture frame that lay discarded on the dining room table, a chunk of glass missing. Your eyes traced over the worn mahogany surface before they settled on speckles of blood. You scanned the perimeter, looking for any clues that could lead you to Jimin. Following the droplets, you were led to your balcony, which overlooked the Dongdaemun shopping district. The gentle purr of cars wafted through the ajar french doors, and perched on the balcony railing was a defeated, scarred Jimin. He hadn’t noticed you, at least, not yet. But you noticed him and his current state. Arms streaked with blood— staining his pajama shirt and boxers a light pink— legs dangling idly from the metal railing as if he wasn’t four stories above a busy street, ready to plummet to his death. He looked content, serene, even.
“Jimin, sweetie,” you choked, words catching in your throat at the sight before you. “What are you—” Before you had time to finish your question, Jimin lept off the railing and threw himself at you and into your arms. Violent sobs wracked his body as he clung to you, like a lost child would to his mother. “I th-thought you had l-l-left m-me,” your husband hiccuped. His hold on you was vice-like, and his wounds were, without a doubt, staining your blouse. “Why did you leave me,” he half-shouted, half-pleaded. “I lost control because of you. I almost ended it all for you.”
You found yourself at a loss for words. You didn’t consider your absence would affect Jimin so profoundly— to the point where he thought suicide was the only way to cope. You almost lost him; almost lost the love of your life. And it was all because of your selfish impulsiveness. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, one hand toying with the baby hairs on the nape of his neck, knowing affection was the best way to calm him down. “Baby, I’m so sorry,” you cooed, tears pricking your eyes. “Please forgive me, I’m so, so sorry. I love you, okay? Don’t ever doubt my feelings for you.” Your husband looked at you with those big, brown eyes that shone so brightly, so innocently. The eyes you loved dearly.
“Promise?” He asked, his grip around you tightening slightly. “I promise,” you replied with a bittersweet smile. You knew that this would be the turning point of your marriage— you could never trust Jimin to be alone, not even for a few hours. You’d have to sacrifice your freedom, your career, to ensure his safety. But it was worth it just to see him live another day.
“Now, let’s get you cleaned up, alright Minnie?” He nodded meekly, letting you lead him towards the washroom so you could tend to his wounds, just like always.
Time and time again, you’d be there to repair Jimin when he broke down, disregarding the fact that you yourself were the one that was crumbling under all the stress. After all, loving Park Jimin was an arduous affair.
#bts yandere#bts yandere fanfic#park jimin fanfic#park jimin yandere#yandere kpop#yandere kpop fanfic
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The Detective and the ManFatale, Part 4
Onward!!!! Part 4!!! The end of the ManFatale arc!!!! If you’re like “WTF is this?” you can read all of it by going to my MASTERPOST for The Detective and the Tech Guy. If you want to read this chapter on fanfiction.net, you can do that by clicking >THIS<.
Enjoy!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
He'd just had to steal a parking spot from a little old lady who was just barely able to see over her steering wheel, and he felt bad about that, he really did. But it meant he was able to catch up to Sarah fast enough to be able to see her enter the office building she'd told him about earlier.
Just like she'd said, the building was off of Melrose, in SoHo. But he didn't follow her inside. Instead, he moved behind a short palm that was planted in a courtyard off to the side, complete with benches and planters. He leaned against the trunk of it and stared at the entrance.
He was old hat at this now, after a few days of tailing that asshole Fake Cartwright. Robbie. Pfft.
Maybe tailing his girlfriend while she was working wasn't the greatest thing he'd ever done in their relationship, granted. And she would probably be so mad at him if she knew he'd gotten in his car and followed her as best he could without getting too close, knowing she was way too smart to let herself be followed as closely as he wanted to. He'd nearly lost her a few times even, but he'd gotten back on track eventually, not wanting to be directly in her line of sight because she was a damn detective and she knew what his damn car looked like.
But it scared him to death hearing her yell, the dial tone…Seeing those papers scattered over the floor as though she'd had the file in her hand when Not-Cartwright had broken in, grabbed her, and yanked her out. God, the things he'd been unable to keep himself from imagining on the way there.
And then when he saw she was safe, when he held her in his arms, having to watch her leave again to go someplace potentially dangerous, and with no cell phone, no way to contact him, or more importantly, the police. That mean Detective Casey guy. God, that guy was a jerk. But at least he'd be able to back Sarah up if she called him, if she was in danger.
So Chuck had done the only thing he could think of to make sure she was okay. He'd followed her. He did have a cellphone. And a vested interest in her safety, damn it.
And he was going to watch those doors like a hawk. If this Jerald Brown fellow wasn't the upstanding tech guru Chuck had always figured he was in spite of never meeting him face to face, Chuck would take him down himself. He'd played flag football in junior high P.E. He knew what he was about.
He waited, waited…waited some more…
Until he spotted something out of the corner of his eye. He ducked back behind the palm tree as best he could and watched as the man he now knew wasn't Robert Cartwright strolled up the sidewalk towards the building, in his off-white suit, pale pink tie, suede shoes. A chill went through Chuck as the man stopped and took his sunglasses off, peering up at the very same building Sarah had just gone into to meet the man this imposter hired her to investigate.
His phone was in his hand immediately. He didn't have a direct line to Detective John Casey, but all he had to do was press three numbers.
There was no reason why this man should know what was happening in there. There was no reason why this man should know about this building in the first place, unless…well, unless he knew. Had he followed Sarah, too? Or had he followed Brown?
How did he know?
Oh God. God, Sarah didn't have her cellphone. And now he was going up the steps. If Chuck followed him, he wouldn't be able to stop him. This man was a seasoned criminal and possibly a killer. He definitely had a weapon.
God, he was opening the door.
"9-1-1, what's your emergency?"
"There's a woman being attacked inside of an office. A man went in there and he's attacking her. He has a weapon." He gave the address, told the operator she needed to hurry, and he hung up again.
It killed him, absolutely destroyed him, to move away from the building. He felt like he was dying as he spun on his heel and sprinted back to his car. He was leaving her in there, alone, and he was so terrified he was on the verge of a breakdown. He was angry with himself, sick with himself, and still he got into his car, turned it on, and with only a half glance back at the building his girlfriend was currently inside of with an angry, potentially murderous conman, he sped away from her.
God, he hoped he was doing the right thing. He hoped to any deity that was listening that he was doing the right thing.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXO
Sarah's hand twitched automatically, ready to draw and put this imposter on the ground with a hole in his chest, but before she could do anything else, there was a loud bang and the arm of her chair exploded in splinters.
She yelped and fell out of the chair onto the floor, holding her hands up, her life having just flashed before her eyes.
That had been an extremely precise shot, not meant to hurt her…a warning that he would hurt her if she gave him any sort of reason to. He'd just missed her but she had scratches on her wrist and the back of her hand from the splintered wood exploding next to her.
"Stand up, kick your gun over here, Miss Walker," he demanded coolly, the South African accent gone. His American accent sounded practiced, too, however. "And then keep your hands in the air. You move wrong and I'll shoot you between the eyes. I've got nothing to lose now. Don't think I won't shoot a pretty girl…"
Sarah stood up and carefully went into her holster, pulling her gun out, setting it on the ground and sliding it across the tile floor to the conman.
"You stand up, too, ya fat fuck," the imposter said to Brown, reaching behind him to shut the door as much as he could with how he'd broken the handle getting in.
The private investigator and ex-Pinkerton detective felt anger start to rise inside of her. Not only did this fucker take a shot at her, he was going around calling good men 'fat fucks' too? She clenched her jaw, unable to help herself.
"You think you're a big boy now that you have that gun pointed at us," she said, keeping her hands up. But God she could feel that knife at her hip, and the ones strapped to her thigh and her fingers itched for them. But the only safe thing to do was to throw verbal barbs at him, so she kept going. "You can insult Mr. Brown when you've got a gun trained on 'im, but I bet just a few days ago, you were kissing his ass, weren't you?"
"Who the hell do you think you are, bitch?" She narrowed her eyes dangerously. "Sarah Walker, private investigator. Without those legs, you'd be working at an Abercrombie & Fitch spraying perfume at teenagers."
She inwardly smirked. He might be a dangerous conman, and a smart enough criminal to have gotten away with his ruse for this long, but he hadn't done his homework apparently. He had no idea she'd been a Pinkerton detective. He had no idea whom he was dealing with.
"You picked the wrong P.I. to hire, Cartwright," Brown said, his voice a little shaky as he stood behind her, still at his wife's desk. "She's not just good at her job, she has a moral compass, and a nose for sniffing out criminal lowlifes."
"I did all right, didn't I? Who's standing here with the gun?"
"What are you gonna do?" Brown asked, seeming to gain a bit more confidence now. "Kill us?"
"Yes, actually. I am. Nobody knows we're here." That was true, Sarah thought miserably. Chuck only knew that she'd gone to an office building in SoHo off of Melrose. There were a handful of them. And he'd have no way of knowing if something bad was happening to her. God, she wished so hard for his paranoia, his idiotic jealous paranoia, that worried crease he'd had between his eyebrows…Please, Chuck… Maybe she could telepathically project terror at him and he'd feel something. They were close enough, emotionally bonded, weren't they? She'd never been so connected to anyone else in her entire life. Wasn't that how that weird crap worked?
Please, please, please, Chuck…
"What did you do with Cartwright?" she asked. If she could just get him talking, she could stall whatever it was he meant to do with them.
"I didn't touch the rat bastard. It wasn't me," he groused. "Wish it had been. He was a lousy piece of shit by all accounts, swimming in his money, an asshole to everyone, greedy."
"So he is dead, then. Who did it if it wasn't you?"
"He's dead. There was a storm, destroyed his boat probably. Found some wreckage where I was in Point d'Esny. Also found his body. Nobody else was on the beach so I took everything I could carry, took his body out onto the water, and dropped it with a bag of sand. Got rid of his boat altogether. Wasn't until a few days later I found out he was a Cape Town big shot. But he was a recluse, too. Nobody ever really saw him much at all. Perfect opportunity for me." He shrugged, and Sarah watched for any opportunity she might have to catch him off guard, but this obviously wasn't the first time he'd held a gun on someone. And she was sure this wouldn't be the first time he'd killed either…if it turned out he got that far.
And oh God, what would she do if he started shooting to kill?
"How did you even pull this off?" Brown asked.
"Easy. When the guy was alive and had less dead-bloat than he had when I found 'im, we looked pretty similar I guess. His IDs all worked long enough for me to forge new ones. Nobody asked any questions when Robert Cartwright showed up in Los Angeles for business. The checks all worked, the bank tellers all let me walk right in, the credit cards worked. I've made a fortune off of this guy, all because he was a shitty sailor."
He kissed the tips of his fingers.
"You're deplorable," Sarah said.
"Mmhmm. Deplorable enough to kill you two so I can get away with it all."
Brown cursed. "You aren't getting away with a damn thing!"
"I am. I've already destroyed any records that I was ever here. I've sold most of his African possessions, withdrawn every last cent I could from the banks. After I'm gone, they'll probably file a missing persons report." He chuckled and grinned a now twisted version of Alain Delon's smile. She wished she could apologize to the French actor for ever thinking he was similar.
This asshole wished…
ManFatale, Chuck had called him near the beginning of this damn job. She'd made fun of him then, but now she saw just how right he was. There was a good chance she was dying here today, in this office with the knitted pillows. Underestimating this bastard was her downfall.
"You don't think they'll dog your steps no matter where you go?" she asked then, starting to let anger overtake her fear. She liked anger better. It was better than giving in to despair, despair that she'd seen Chuck for the last time not an hour ago, climbing into his fuel-efficient car, after trying to make her take his phone. Maybe if she'd taken it, she could've secretly hit the emergency button on it.
What was he going to do?
What would he do if she died here today?
Oh, God…
No. Anger. Anger was better.
"I've covered my tracks."
"You haven't covered shit. The FBI, the CIA, the NSA, they've all got guys who find pieces of shit like you every single day. You aren't getting away it with no matter what you do to us," she hissed through her teeth.
The imposter angled his gun down suddenly and shot, sending a bullet clattering into the ground at her feet. She screamed and clasped her hands to her mouth, jumping away. He raised the gun and shot again, hitting the desk right next to her hip and she fell to the side, onto the floor. Brown knelt down behind her, a protective move, but this time the bullet that came from the imposter's gun was true.
Brown hit the tile hard, a hole in his shoulder as he cried out in pain.
Holy shit!
Now there was fear inside of her. Abject fear as she acted fast, grabbing Brown's hand and making him press it against his wound. "Just hold it…press down, you'll be okay…"
"Get up," the imposter growled at her, stepping closer. She ignored him as she tried to help the injured man. "I said get up!" he yelled this time, grabbing her by her hair and yanking her to her feet.
She heard sirens in the distance and she knew as his eyes darted to the side in momentary worry that this was her one and only chance to get herself and Jerald Brown out of here alive.
Sarah Walker, P.I. struck fast. She swung her left arm around, clamped her fingers around his wrist and pushed the gun away from her temple where he'd been holding it. He pulled the trigger, breaking the window behind her, and the sound of it startled him enough that she was able to bring her knee up and back and slam her heel right between his legs.
He yelled in pain as she snapped the arm that had the gun down across her knee, hearing the crack of his bone breaking and the clatter of the gun hitting the floor. She kicked it away as he fell hard onto his back and she crawled onto him, slamming her fist down into his face, over and over and over and over again until he put his non-injured arm up and begged her to stop.
Just then the door burst right off of its hinges, police officers racing inside.
"GET ON THE GROUND!" an LAPD officer barked, and in spite of the fact that he might not be talking to her, she crawled down onto her knees and put her hands behind her head. She didn't know who or what had brought the police here but she wasn't about to be shot for trying to explain right away when they were attempting to take control of the situation.
Once the yelling stopped and the police had clambered over to Brown who was still conscious but whimpering, an officer grabbed her by her arm and hoisted her up. "My name is Sarah Walker, private investigator. That man broke in while I was in a meeting with Mr. Brown and held a gun on us. He shot him. Tried to…tried to shoot me, too." She was breathless, and she realized that in spite of being in scenarios with guns, bombs, and other terrifying situations, this had been one of the closest shaves she'd had.
And she had a lot more to lose this time.
She had to press her lips together and blink a few times to keep the rush of terrified tears at bay.
"All right, miss. Just come over here and sit in this chair. Your name again…?"
"Sarah Walker," she murmured, trying to take deep breaths. "I own Walker Investigative Enterprises. I've-I've got a P.I. license."
The two officers exchanged flat looks. "A P.I., huh?"
This had been too traumatic for her to find the willpower to give them dirty looks for that.
"Get an ambulance here, we've got two men in need of medical attention," one of the cops said into their walky-talky. "One gunshot wound. Another with abrasions to the face, broken arm."
Sarah thought about how badly she wished she could've given him more abrasions to the face, and she thought maybe she was starting to feel more like herself now that the danger had abated. Though her ear was ringing bad from that gun going off so close to it.
"You're Sarah Walker, that's Jerald Brown…and who is this guy?" The cop gestured to Fake Cartwright.
Paramedics rushed in then, tending to Brown first and getting him lifted onto a gurney.
"A criminal," Sarah said. "If you look up Robert Cartwright, you'd find this man's picture. But he-he isn't Robert Cartwright."
"Huh?"
She explained the situation to them for the next three minutes, accepting the strong coffee one of them gave her, and the blanket the other one wrapped around her shoulders. She didn't know when she'd begun to shiver. And it wasn't from the cold.
As she realized she was just barely keeping from slipping into shock, suddenly there was a shuffling of people at the door and Detective John Casey was there, his hulking figure taking up the entire doorway practically. "Whatever she said about him, it's true," he said, pointing over her shoulder. "Cartwright's an imposter." He pulled his badge out as he walked into the room and flashed it at the officers. "I'll handle the questioning from here, officers."
They both nodded and moved away.
And that was when she looked up to see Chuck step out from behind the detective, his eyes finding her immediately.
"Sarah…"
"Chuck!"
She left the coffee and the blanket behind, surging to her feet just in time for his body to crash into hers, his arms so strong as they folded her up against him, so warm and safe and everything she'd needed the moment this had all ended.
Sarah felt her boyfriend's lips against her hair, and then her temple, and her cheek, and he just held her so tight. She didn't ever want to let go. Ever.
And she heard him curse, his hand coming up to brush over her hair. "Are you okay?" he asked finally. "Did he hurt you? I'll kill him."
"Maybe not the smartest thing to say in front of the LAPD, idiot," Casey grumbled from where he was standing over Chuck's shoulder.
She ignored him, though, burying her face in Chuck's neck and letting herself cry just a little. She'd been so scared she'd never see him again. So scared she'd never feel this. Or eat one of his waffles he made that were never thick enough or cooked as much as she wanted them to be because he didn't put enough batter in, and didn't leave it in the iron long enough. Because he was too impatient, like a little boy.
"I'm okay," she gasped out, trying to hold back still and not doing a great job of it. "I'm okay. I love you."
"I love you, too," he said immediately, holding her even tighter, pressing his lips against her temple and keeping them there.
She finally pulled back, letting him cup her face and kiss her properly, and then he kissed the remnants of the few tears she'd shed away. "What—How?" she asked.
"I…" He winced. "I was worried. Super, super worried. I had this weird feeling in my gut letting you drive off to this meeting with no cell phone or anything. So I…gah, I followed you. I know you—you probably…" He huffed at her impatient look. "You're right. Let's table that. I was waiting outside, 'cause I'm your man and I wanted to have your back in case things got cray. But then while I was waiting, I saw that fake-ass mother fucker walk up with his cheesy as hell B-List sunglasses and that shit-eating smirk, and I knew right away that you were in trouble." A smile began to grow on her face as she watched him start to get riled up now as he told his story. "I was going to run after him and strangle him or roundhouse kick him in the jaw or somethin' but then I figured I'd most likely get shot and you'd never forgive me if that happened. So I called 9-1-1 instead and got in my car to come find Cas—Casey—Detective Casey." He cleared his throat at the glare the older man sent him.
"You're insane," she breathed, swallowing another sob and throwing her arms around his neck, letting him lift her enough that her feet were dangling a few inches off the floor, and they stayed like that for long enough that Casey finally cleared his throat.
Chuck set her down and she resisted the urge to kiss him again, longing in her gaze as she peered up at him for a moment…And then she turned to John Casey and nodded.
"Yeah, well…S'a miracle we even got here when we did what with this moron driving like a fuckin' grandma."
"What?!" Chuck spun on his heels to face the LAPD detective. "That's not even true! I was going fast! Things were whizzing past my window!" He let go of her arm with one hand and mimicked swishing his hand back and forth past his head manically.
"Right. Sure. Walker, I'm gonna need you at the station. Your secretary here only gave me the highlights. He can't talk and drive at the same time." Casey turned and headed for the door.
"Are you serious right now?" Chuck asked, his pitch getting a bit higher. "Secretary? How many times do I—?" They both began to follow after him then, Sarah's fist twisted in Chuck's sleeve, pulling him along. "Oh. He's messing with me, isn't he?"
She heard the amused grunt from the cop as he pressed the button to call the elevator, and she saw the small smirk on his face. It made her feel so glad to be alive.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXO
It had only taken twenty minutes for Detective Casey to eject Chuck from the room where he'd taken them for questioning. She'd had to watch as he interrupted one final time—"Sarah, tell him about…"—then Casey's patience, which had been wearing thin already no doubt, snapped. He stood up, grabbed Chuck by his arm, and escorted him out of the room, shutting the door in his face.
She'd had to smirk inwardly at the cute, offended sounds of confusion that her boyfriend made until he was locked out on the other side of the door where he could no longer interrupt.
Casey'd finally sat down across from her again, and she'd told him every last detail she could, even letting him have the files she'd kept in her briefcase that she'd had during the meeting with Brown, in case he'd needed convincing.
"So what made you so sure of Jerald Brown that you ended up focusing most of your efforts on investigating your client, rather than investigating the guy he was paying you to investigate?" Casey asked, forty-five minutes into their meeting.
"Part of it was the fact that I spent three days tailing him, going through his background, his financial records, combing through his personal life, and I'd found absolutely nothing to make me think he was anything other than a good businessman, and a good man in general. Not that he was without faults, but none of it was illegal or reprehensible. No illicit affairs, no fraud, nothing untoward." She shrugged.
"And the other part?"
"Chuck insisted he was a commendable man."
Casey scoffed. "You took him at his word?"
"I always do," she said, holding her chin high. "He knows who is who in his own industry, and he's a commendable man himself."
"Don't get defensive, Walker."
"I did my homework. And on the other side, I had this guy who, for all intents and purposes, was very smooth, seemed to know just what to say to every question or comment I had during our meetings, and…this was the key…the more time I spent in these meetings with who I thought was Robert Cartwright, the more I got the feeling he wanted me to find something wrong."
Casey grunted, thunking a pen against his chin a few times, thoughtfully. Then he narrowed his eyes. "I get where you're going. Instead of wanting you to just check and make sure this potential future business associate was on the level, and being relieved when you kept coming back with confirmation that he was, Cartwright seemed like he was digging for some dirt on him instead."
"Exactly. It was sneaky. And it made me super suspicious."
"Hmng," Casey tossed the pen on the table and pushed his chair back. "Don't blame ya. That was pretty good work, Detective. Don't take this the wrong way," he started, which was always a stellar way for another person to start a statement, she thought wryly, "but I'm curious as to why ya didn't just take the money and let this lie."
Sarah crossed her arms and stood up from her chair, nibbling on her bottom lip. "I'm not that kind of P.I., Detective Casey. I want to make a living off of this P.I. business I'm building, but not at the expense of innocent people, and not to aid and abet criminals. I'm operating on the right side of the law."
"So no adultery cases, huh?" He grinned a bit lecherously and she glared at him.
"If someone comes in offering me the right amount of money to try to catch their partner with someone else, depending on the person and the case, I might accept. But what business is that of yours?"
"It ain't. Lighten up. Yeesh." He held his hands up defensively, one of the gestures that infuriated her the most when men did it at her.
"Is that all you need from me?"
"Yeah. But make sure to stick around for a week or so while we work on this case. We may need the FBI in on this if he's committed crimes like this before, and they'll be bringing the South African and Cape Town authorities in, I'm sure."
"I will," she said, getting up and walking towards the door. "Oh. Here." She came back and set all of the work she'd done down on his desk. "I'm sure you folks'll need this." He deserved the snarky smirk she sent him, and the look on his face told him he probably knew he deserved it, even if he wouldn't admit it out loud ever in a million years.
"Thanks. And uh…make sure you take care of that hand. Don't think I didn't see you trying to hide the scratches. Was that his face that gave you those?"
She looked down at the scratches on the back of her hand, and now on her knuckles from his face, just as Casey surmised. "Yes and no. His face, but also, he shot at the arm of the chair where I'd just been and the wood sort of exploded and caught me."
Casey winced. "You gonna be okay?"
"I'll be fine. Just a little home first aid is required. Nothing deep."
"Good." There was silence between them then as she nodded and went for the door. "Walker."
She stopped and looked at him over her shoulder, her hand on the doorknob. "Yeah?"
"We've got officers watchin' him now where he was admitted to the hospital, and when they've set that arm and gotten his face fixed up," she noticed a particular thread of pleasure in his smirk at that, "they're takin' him to his own cell here where I'll question him personally while we wait for FBI to send someone. That is to say…you did some damn fine work."
She smiled. "Thanks. Oh. Did Jerald Brown…?"
"He's gonna be fine. I'll email you where they took 'im if you want to visit tomorrow. He'll be kept at the hospital for a few days."
"Good. And yes. Please do. Thanks."
He nodded and she stepped out of the room, finding Chuck sitting a bit dejectedly in what she thought might be a perp chair at the end of someone's desk. Thankfully, whoever's desk it was seemed to be gone for the day.
She gestured for him to followed her with a flick of her head and a smile when he lifted his chin from his chest and met her eyes.
And she clung to him as best she could while still being able to walk to the elevator.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
She was quiet the whole ride back to her apartment, curled up in his passenger seat, having kicked her heels off and pulled her legs against her chest, her forehead leaning against the window as she gazed out on the late afternoon street.
And the sun had finally set, the sky still light out but darkening by the time he pulled into a parking spot in her apartment complex. They'd left her car in free street parking where she'd left it before her meeting with Brown a few hours earlier and they'd get it later, tomorrow most likely. She hadn't seemed as worried about it as she was about finally going home, so he'd promptly driven her from the police station to her place with no stops in between.
Now they sat in the comfortable warmth of his car, the engine off, silence permeating…
Until Sarah turned to look at him, smiling softly, and then she reached out and took his hand, not looking away for even a moment as she breathed a quiet, "Will you stay with me?"
He felt everything inside of him crumbling and never in his entire life had he ever wanted to protect anything or anyone as much as he wanted to protect Sarah Walker. Not trusting his voice, still shaken up from what had nearly happened, he nodded vigorously instead, and she smiled a bit harder.
They got out and headed up to her apartment, his arm around her shoulders the whole way, and he used his key to let them in, turning on the lights for her as she tossed her purse onto the entryway table and kicked off her heels again, shrugging her jacket off.
It was then that he saw her hand. There were bloody marks on the back of it, cuts on her wrist, and red welts with dried blood and most likely bruising underneath on her knuckles.
Nothing else mattered as he made a beeline for her and gently picked up her arm, cradling her hand and wrist in his comforting grip. "Sarah…"
"I know, I know…but it's fine. I've had worse."
"You've let this go for hours."
"I've had worse, Chuck. It's okay. I'll just ice it—"
He shook his head vehemently and pulled her through her apartment to the bathroom. "You have first aid?"
"You know where it is from where you burned yourself on the coffee pot."
"Oh…oh yeah. Um…remind me, though."
Seeing blood on her hand, her own blood, knowing she'd been hurt, knowing she could have been worse than hurt, was starting to catch up to him suddenly. And he was trying so hard not to let her see. He didn't want her thinking he was going to be a basket case about her chosen profession. That every little cut she got made him crazy and sick with worry. But this had felt like a big deal. A really big deal. And he had no idea what would've happened if the police hadn't shown up, if he hadn't called them.
"Hey," she breathed suddenly, and he cursed himself a little, knowing he'd let it all show on his face anyway. "Hey, look at me." She cupped his face and forced his gaze to hers. Her blue eyes reassured him immediately and he had to resist the urge to melt into her, hold onto her for dear life. "Chuck, are you spiraling because of this?" she asked, presenting her injured hand to him.
He nodded, putting his hands on her hips to keep himself steady.
Her good hand stroked his jaw and his eyelids fluttered. "Please don't. I'm okay."
"Help me maybe not spiral by telling me where that first aid kit is and I can clean you up a bit."
"It's right here, in the cupboard under this drawer." She shifted to bump her hip against the drawer she was talking about. "But…before you do that, would you mind if I took a shower?"
He shook his head and leaned in to kiss her on the forehead, a slow, long kiss. He understood the request at a deeper level, but he wouldn't say it out loud. She needed some time alone after everything. She'd almost been killed, watched Brown get shot right in front of her, and had cops swarming her, and finally the questioning at the station and being trapped in the car with him as he drove her home.
"Thank you. It-It'll be a quick one." She slid past him, dragging her fingertips over his abdomen as she went to the shower and turned on the water.
"Take your time, baby. I'll have a martini ready for you when you're done." On second thought, as she gingerly started to unbutton her blouse, he waited for her to realize he was still there and turn to meet his gaze before he said it again. "Take your time."
Understanding dawned on her features and her shoulders drooped a bit. He thought her chin might have quivered and he just turned on his heel and left before he was tempted to gather her up in his arms and hold her some more. She needed to be alone for a bit, though, so he went into her kitchen and started preparing a few martinis, two to start with, one for each of them. He didn't know how many of these she was going to need, but he'd make her as many as she asked for.
And he waited, enjoying the texts Ellie had sent him throughout all of this, the one about Clara pushing herself up to sit for a few seconds before falling again. The look she gave her mom like she didn't know if she should cry or not. It warmed him from the inside out. And he'd been so cold before. Unable to get rid of that terrifying sensation he'd had when he'd screeched to a halt next to the office building, seeing the police cars haphazardly parked, lights still blinking, the ambulance there, someone being wheeled into it…
He'd seen it was Brown, that he'd been shot, and he tried to tear into the building, only to have Casey and two other officers have to grab onto him and nearly take him down to the ground. When they got him to stop, Casey barked, "He's with me", and he yanked on Chuck's tie, pointing in his face with a "Slow down, kid".
That was all it took for him to gain control, afraid this detective might knock him out altogether if he didn't take a breath. And he let Casey take point, shaken to his core until the moment he stepped into the room and saw his very own detective sitting there, alive, no bullet holes in her like the man downstairs'd had.
He felt a chill go through him as he stood there peering out into the courtyard of Sarah's building, watching an older woman take down a few shirts she'd hung on a clothesline and toss them into a basket. Her tabby cat made a figure-8 around her legs in the meantime, finally following her inside as she hobbled up the steps and into the building.
Chuck let himself get lost in everything for a few minutes, going through all of the worst scenarios that thankfully hadn't happened. Sarah was alive and well, currently in the shower, washing off the remnants of her harrowing ordeal.
He'd heard everything that had happened to her in Mrs. Brown's office while she told the grumpy detective—before said grump kicked him out. He supposed he couldn't blame the guy for it, though, because he'd caught himself interrupting too often. No matter how many times he apologized, he never learned, and his punishment was sitting out by himself for the remainder of the conversation.
But Sarah had been shot at multiple times, and every time Not-Cartwright had purposely missed her, his intent being to scare her. That made Chuck Bartowski angry. There was an extra level of pathology to lord your power over someone in that way, terrifying them before you kill them, making them suffer… It made him feel so disgusted, and then he thought Sarah must have come into contact with psychopaths like this guy before in her line of work.
She was an incredible bad ass, the coolest, strongest person he'd ever met. And he was sure no matter how often she'd come face to face with these crazy assholes, it didn't make being shot at any easier to handle, especially when it was so cruelly done to terrorize her. By the shakiness in her voice when she'd told them about him shooting her chair and then at her feet, and finally at the desk next to her hip, before sinking a bullet into Mr. Brown, the man she'd been attempting to protect, Chuck could tell it had gotten to her. Genuinely.
Maybe he shouldn't announce it in front of the LAPD, but deep inside, Chuck wasn't sure he'd be able to hold himself back from murdering that guy if he'd had a crack at him when he first got into that room and saw Sarah there, her face so pale, the blanket around her shoulders, the bun she'd had in her hair when he'd seen her last half pulled out… He'd discovered later that the man had grabbed her by her hair and yanked her up to her feet by it.
Chuck thought he'd like to do the same to him, but instead he'd pull his spine right out with one hard yank. Mortal Kombat style.
"Thought I'd bring the first aid kit with me because I already know you'll refuse to take no for an answer."
He spun on his heel, letting the curtain fall back into place and cover the window to see Sarah had wandered in, her step light like a cat's so that he hadn't heard her come in. Granted he might've also been a bit distracted.
But then she set the first aid kit on the table and frowned deeply. "What's wrong?"
"Huh? Wrong?"
"You turned around and looked like a rabidly angry gorilla or something for a second."
He just shook his head and sniffed in amusement. "It's nothing."
"Chuck…"
"I was thinking about what he did to you, and maybe imagining myself doing one of the Mortal Kombat fatality moves on him. That's all." He stuffed his hands in his pockets and shrugged, slowly wandering over.
She widened her eyes. "I don't know what those moves entail but you said the word fatality, so that sounds a little serious, buddy."
At least that shower had made it so she seemed a little more like herself. Less shaken, more settled. The almost-unnoticeable shiver she'd had before was gone.
"It is. I have to be honest with you, Sarah. Part of me is angry with myself that I didn't just follow him and body tackle him into the ground then and there."
Her eyes flashed, concern and even a bit of frustration in her face. And then she put her hand on his chest, her fingers curling against his shirt as she shook her head. "Chuck, don't say that. Please never do something like that. He had a gun. He would've killed you."
He clenched his jaw and looked away.
"I-I'm not trying to make it seem like you're weak or incapable, baby. I'm really not. Just—Listen to me. I'm trained in combat, I have extensive training and years of experience using guns. I had a gun with me, as well as the knives I always have strapped to me. Hey, look at me. Please." She put her good hand on the side of his face and pulled his eyes back to hers. "I was nearly powerless in there. He had me, Chuck. If he hadn't slipped, let his guard down for that one second…" Her voice drifted off. "My point is that someone trained, like me, could have easily died doing whatever it is you might've done in that moment instead of what you ended up doing." She stroked her hand through his curls. "Which was the right thing."
"I know." He gently slid his hand around her waist and pulled her a little closer. "It just felt…terrible. Watching him go in there, knowing you were about to have him burst in on you. And knowing now what he ended up doing, that you were hurt and Brown was shot. What if I could've stopped all of it?"
"What if you couldn't have but you tried anyway and ended up being shot yourself?" Her eyes searched his. He couldn't come up with an answer to that. "What would I do, then? What would I even do if you were shot, Chuck? I can't even begin to think…" She let out a harsh breath, shaking her head. And he held her tighter.
"I ran away from you. I left you behind."
"You saved my life," she said in a much steadier voice, her features hard, willing him to understand. "What you ended up doing wasn't just the right thing, Chuck, it was incredibly brave."
He winced a little. "It didn't feel very brave."
"You could've let your worry for me, your fear, overtake you and you could've run after him, tried to stop him, and ended up getting all of us killed…but instead you called the police, knowing that they'd have more of a chance of stopping him than you ever would. And you went to get Casey involved, which…" She paused. "Why did you get Casey?" She blinked, her brow furrowed as though the question had just struck her at that moment.
Chuck swallowed thickly. "I was afraid they'd believe the wrong person unless you had someone they trusted vouching for you. And I knew Casey would be the perfect person to be there for that."
She beamed at him so suddenly that his heart felt like an insane amount of weight had been taken off of it. And then she hugged him tightly, and he hugged her back similarly. "You're brave and brilliant, Chuck Bartowski."
He felt so much pride in that moment, hearing how proud she was of him, how grateful she was, how impressed she was, in her voice, feeling it in the way she squeezed him, kissed his cheek.
"And you're a bad ass and the best, Sarah Walker. So I guess we make a good pair. Maybe I can be your assistant."
"No," she giggled, kissing his cheek again and then pulling back. "I will let you take care of me, though."
"Oh, gladly," he said with as much warmth as he was capable of, and then he gently pushed her to sit in the chair at the table and went to grab a bowl, putting some warm water and soap in it, then wandering back with that and a cloth in hand.
He scooted close to her and let her drape her hand over the bowl as he silently cleaned the cuts that didn't look so bad now that she'd showered. She only winced a little at the cuts on her wrist when he was gently rubbing ointment over them, and then he wrapped a light bandage around all of it.
"I look like the bride of Frankenstein's monster," she said with a giggle once he finished.
"She wishes," Chuck answered, watching as Sarah turned her arm a bit to look at his work. "What?" he asked when she gave him a quiet, searching look.
"You did a pretty good job here, actually."
That made him smile. "Listen, I grew up with a big sister who's wanted to be a doctor ever since she found out what a doctor was. Do you know how often I got wrapped up in bandages through all the years I spent under the same roof as her?"
She laughed. "Was it often?"
"Often enough." He chuckled. "She got better at it when she was actually in med school and I guess I picked up some things, little tricks of the trade. Don't ask me to stitch a wound shut, though, because I will faint."
Sarah snorted. "That's cute."
"Is it?" he drawled dubiously. He got up then and straightened his back, feeling a few pops, then put the bowl away, the bandages and the first aid kit, and when he came back out, Sarah had finished her martini.
She held the glass up towards him and pouted a little.
"Another?" he asked, receiving a smile in return. He chuckled and took her glass, leaning down to kiss her forehead, then went back to the kitchen to make her another. "Hey, you want a flavor in it this time? Maybe some lime? I saw a lime in your fridge."
Sarah was standing next to him suddenly—those cat-like silent feet of hers—and he nearly jumped. "Sorry. Didn't mean to sneak." He shrugged at her wince. "You just…You've never put flavors in a martini for me before. It's always just been a traditional, perfectly dry martini. What's gotten into my Chuck?"
"If you want me to make it like I always do, I can." He shrugged again. She was looking at him steadily, that look of hers that saw right through him. And he sighed. "It has nothing to do with the martini, but-but I guess today sort of put into perspective for me that you're not…"
"What?"
"Immortal. Indestructible." His throat was dry then and he looked away, swallowing.
"Did you…think I was? Like some kind of comic book character?"
"No. Of course not." He sniffed in amusement. "But what you do is dangerous and it's something I'm going to have to come to terms with. I hadn't before this because I guess I…haven't had to yet. But I have to now."
"Chuck, I'm okay."
"I know you are. So am I. We're okay. And that's not something that's gonna change, no matter how many ManFatales try to take you away from me."
Sarah smirked at that and gave him a side-eye. "No fucking way anybody is taking me away from you. And vice versa," she added, pointing at him a bit threateningly.
"I didn't just mean romantically." He chuckled. "I meant…uh…you know."
"Oh." She sobered significantly. "That, too. And yeah…maybe this time we can try some lime in the martini. I have some pineapple slices, too. Maybe some of the juice…?"
"Splendid idea," he said, giving her a warm smile. And they stood side by side as he prepared more martinis for them to enjoy.
They eventually found their way to Sarah's bed, stretching themselves out over it and leaning back against her headboard. She'd since fallen asleep, her harrowing ordeal earlier on in the day knocking her out soon after she curled herself up on his chest.
He just held onto her, looking down into her face. She looked younger when she was asleep, so at peace, without any worries to speak of. But then his eyes latched onto her wrapped hand and wrist that was slung over his chest and he frowned.
She was a private investigator. And as awesome as it was, as hot as it was that he was dating someone so damn cool, he couldn't let himself forget how serious it was, too. How serious it could be. He'd never want her to give up what she wanted to do, who she wanted to be, so that he had better peace of mind when she went to work, the way the boyfriend of an accountant might. His girlfriend wasn't going to stop being a private investigator, whether he was awful enough to want her to or not.
And so…Chuck Bartowski was determined instead to support her. To be here on the hard days like today. To protect her when she needed him to. To bandage her cuts, hold her, make her martinis, and let her fall asleep in his arms.
Because being with Sarah Walker, P.I. was so much better than being with some accountant who sat in an office all day. The worry, the nerves, the adrenaline, and even the fear, were all worth it because she was worth anything and everything.
This was her, he realized, looking down into her face.
These cases with genuinely bad dudes wanting to do her harm because she was good at her job, because she was working to take them down, were all part of what made her…her. The danger, the chase, the high stakes…that was all part of her.
He loved her.
That included everything that made her who she was. That included this. And those moments of fear, the danger…
No matter what this career of hers brought them, this wouldn't ever change. He was ready for the bumps and bruises he'd get in the meantime himself. He was ready for the hurdles and hardships ahead. He thought he was ready for just about anything.
Because this was their life now.
And he wouldn't trade it for the whole universe.
#The Detective and the Tech Guy#DATG#Thin Man Chuck#Thin Man Charah#chuck#charah#chuck x sarah#otp: sometimes the nerd gets the girl#Chuck Bartowski#Sarah Walker#tech guy!Chuck#detective!Sarah#chuck fic#charah fic#chuck fanfiction#charah fanfiction#charah fan fiction#John Casey#chuck AU#charah AU#AU#AU fic#AU fanfiction#Thin Man AU#Thin Man fic#NBC Chuck#tv: chuck#crossover AU#crossover fic
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Marry You - Gwilym Lee x Reader
Synopsis: Love of his life - just ask him one question!
Word Count: 1.4k
Warnings: Just an insecure gwil aghh ---- can be read as gender-neutral!reader i think!
A/N: heY THERE it’s cel! sorry for being absent! we’ve been busy tbh and just hadn’t been in the mood to write - val is writing something currently and im figuring out what else to do? so if you have suggestions, plEASE send them through our ask! i hope you enjoy! i also enjoy constructive criticism - please tell me ways i can improve!
I was nervous, to say the least. Gwil and I had discussed it before, the thought of him proposing. He said he wouldn’t mind if I proposed either - it just shows that I’d want to stay with him for the rest of my life, visa versa. I’d planned to propose soon - I’d even got him a simple silver band to wear wherever he liked.
But, Gwil had been acting strange lately, sort of distancing himself from me, not wanting to cuddle me while we’re trying to sleep - even though he knows I need to cuddle something while I try to sleep, otherwise it’s a shocking sleep for me. It’s strange, he’s always been a cuddly person - latching into me whenever possible.
I’m quite concerned, he hasn’t done this since we began dating. He’d hide himself from me, to try to not get attached to me, so I didn’t know his darkest secrets. He didn’t do very well at doing that, since one night when I stayed at his, he told me almost everything about him because, and I quote ‘You looked way too cute in your pyjamas and I couldn’t stop myself from talking, it was like you slipped me a truth serum.’
He’s bad at keeping things to himself.
But he’d gotten better at hiding things from me since he wasn’t expressing himself with me lately.
Nonetheless, he’s going to spill what’s wrong inside his pretty little head of his, one way or another.
-
I’d found him sitting on the couch in the lounge-room, head in his hands, leaning on the arm of the couch.
“Baby, what’s wrong?” I ask, sliding next to him, placing a loving hand on his shoulder. He looks up at me, pain in his eyes, dread and the love once deep in them seemed to be lost. “Love, you can talk to me, you remember that, right?”
“You love me, right?”
“Of course. Why would you think otherwise?” I look at him with a frown, listening intently to his answer.
“I don’t know, I just think you could do way better than me. I’m insecure about my abilities to be a good boyfriend, for some reason, I see so many different depictions of boyfriends on the telly or in real life, and I don’t compare. I’m barely home, I don’t do much around the house because I’m sleeping, I don’t-” I cut him off by placing my lips on his, grabbing his face in my hands, putting as much love and soul I can put into a kiss. I pull away, him chasing my lips in the progress, he opens his eyes with a small pout and a whine.
“I love you so much. I would never be able to do better than you, because no one can deal with my fucked-up-ness. You’re kind, sweet, lovely to me. You love me in many ways, in ways that I can’t love myself. You love all of me. I love all of you. You’re barely home because you’re working, doing something you love - acting, need I remind you?” I begin to play with the hair atop his head, the brown wavy hair that I also love so much.
“You played Brian May in one of the biggest movies of last year, you did an amazing Australian romantic comedy, one that premiered at Sundance and all around Australia, which I loved, by the way, sweetheart, I loved seeing your fluffy hair and scruffy beard. You’ve been doing so much more projects lately, I can’t count them all!” I pause to see the sad smile on his face. I place my hand on his cheek, bringing him to look at me. “You should never doubt your abilities to be a good boyfriend. You try your hardest, and that’s all I could ask for, from you, my Love.”
I see the glint of happiness in his eyes - one that I’ve needed lately. This might be the only candid time I will be able to do this. I won’t need to set up anything extravagant or plan anything - just me, him, and one question.
“Hold on, babe.” I press a chaste kiss to his lips and run to our room. He lets out a small whine as I hear him thump back into the couch.
I run into our shared bedroom, rummaging around my underwear drawer, trying to find the small black box. I find it with an almost silent ‘ah-hah’, opening to check the ring was still in there.
A simple gold band, nothing fancy, just something to signify my love for this man in my home. Our home.
I didn’t hear Gwilym come to our room, I didn’t hear the footsteps I normally would hear, but with my heart almost pounding out of my chest, I couldn’t even hear my own thoughts.
I smile at the ring, closing the box and then my drawer. I spin around on the tips of my toes and see Gwil standing there with a goofy smile. I gasp and hide the box behind my back, but knowing him, he’d understand what it is in a heartbeat.
“What you got there, Love?” He begins to walk towards me, I begin to walk backward until I hit the drawers.
“Uh-” I push out a nervous laugh. I didn’t bother getting down on one knee, didn’t want to seem shorter than I already am. Gwil was always towering over me, no matter what shoes I wear, this was just another one of those situations.
I stand on my tippy toes, wrapping one arm around his neck, pulling him down to press another kiss to his lips. I slide my hand down his neck and onto his jaw, pulling away slightly, to utter those few words. The few words that might change my life forever.
“Gwilym Lee, will you marry me?” I pull away and open the box once again, but this time it’s facing him. He lets out a chuckle, grabbing the box from my hands.
“Isn’t this my job?” he gestures to the box, lifting the ring out. “To ask this life-changing question? To ask you to spend the rest of your life with me?”
“You told me once that you were okay with either asking. It’s someone asking you to marry them because they love you. I love you enough to ask you to marry me, because I’m confident you love me enough to want to marry me, too.” I give him a confident smile, but that smile turned into a nervous one as soon as I heard how cocky it sounded.
“Well, at least I hope you love me enough to want to marry me, because I love you enough to want to marry you, so I just want this to be a mutual agreem-” I’m cut off by Gwil’s lips on mine again, I let out a giggle as I pushed myself more into him.
He pulls away, throwing the box onto the drawers, his ring still between his thumb and index. He hands it to me as he mutters one word.
“Yes.”
“Yes? Yes - meaning you love me? Or yes - meaning you’ll marry me?” I ask, hope extremely evident in my voice. He nods, laughing.
“Yes to both, you idiot.” I push the golden band onto his ring finger, letting out a small squeal as I jump into his grasp. He holds me to his body, his hands on my thighs and my arms around his neck.
“Oh my god, we’re engaged, we’re getting married,” I speak in disbelief. We lock eyes with each other.
“You’re my fianceé,” Gwil muttered onto my lips. “And I’m yours.” He presses multiple kisses to my lips, walking us over to the bed. He lets me go and I land - almost - gracefully, I forgot to let my arms go, so he got pulled down too, on the messy bed from the night before. “Wait here.”
He runs out of the bedroom, leaving me flustered and in the mood for anything tonight. I lean on the backs of my arms, pushing myself up so I can still see him walk through the door. He walks back in, a little black box, in his hand. I let out a loud cackle, falling back onto the bed.
“There is no way you were planning on proposing too.” I push my hands onto my face, shaking my head vigorously. He crawls over the top of me, with the ring in his hand and a smile on his face.
“I’ll marry you, only if you’ll marry me too.” Love shines through his eyes like the sun on a 35℃ degree day, who was I to say no to this man? I nod with tears in my eyes, he pushes the ring onto my finger.
“Oh my god, I love you so much.” I push my lips onto his for the umpteenth time tonight. His kiss moves to my cheek, down my jaw to the spot behind my ear. I grab at his neck, again and again, pulling him down more.
“I love you so much as well. Always have.”
#gwilym lee#gwil#gwilym#gwilym lee x reader#gwilym lee imagine#gwilym lee x you#gwilym lee x genderneutral!reader#gwilym x reader#cel writes
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Being a Black Girl and Finding Love
l o fucking l
impossible
the last time i posted on this blog i was 18, 3 weeks away from leaving my hometown to pursue music in London and upset because my white friends didn’t understand the basics of cultural appropriation.
here i am, back almost a whole year later.
im 19 now, im a singer songwriter living in London, with an amazing group of diverse friends who understand each other and really have eachother’s backs. the last few months have been crazy for me, and i’ve experienced and learned about different parts of myself that i never knew existed because of how suppressed i was in my home environment until i moved.
one of these things that i never really knew that well about myself, was how much i could feel for one person.
growing up, i never really had much luck in the guy department. all my friends were white, and pretty, and most of the time i was the only black girl which, automatically, in society’s eyes- made me the ugly friend. it’s a statement that i know will make whoever reads this gasp. how can i call myself the ugly friend just because i’m the only black girl in the group? the same way our white as fuck society upholds euro-centric beauty standards and gives us warped depictions of what beautiful should be. beautiful in our modern day society means skinny, white and with long hair. its 2019, so this is not as rigid as it used to be, but growing up, it didn’t take long for me to realise that i was not what was desired by any of the guys me or other girls had their eyes on.
not that boys are the be all and end all of life, but we can all agree that as young teenage girls, developing your first crush was a pretty big part of life. and the need to feel desired, and loved, and wanted will always be a big part of the human condition. and this isn’t something i’ve always had the pleasure of experiencing growing up as a young girl the way i watched my other friends have.
i’ll spare you the long emotional details of childhood trauma when it comes to accepting myself and not letting whether white boys think i’m cute or not decide my value, i’ll just cut straight to what’s been keeping me up at 2am for the past 6 months.
two characteristics.
capricorn with green eyes.
i met him randomly at some music networking event and i always think about how weird it was that we somehow met in the first place. i was supposed to have gone home 10 minutes before, picked up an angry call from my dad telling me to go straight home even though he was a whole plane ride away. and my friend - let’s call her ellie, was outraged. “it’s only ten o’ clock you can’t leave”. she sounded stressed, to say the least. so, i didn’t. and 10 minutes later, i bump into him.
fuck him.
pretty smile, pretty eyes, pretty face, pretty laugh and he liked lorde and brockhampton. i was doomed from the start quite honestly.
we exchanged instagrams, he invited me to some event he was putting on and this open mic in shoreditch that he and his friends always went to. and the rest was history that i cant ever seem to properly let go of.
i started going to this shit every week just to see him, and after a couple months started developing a little crush, which after an invitation to some house parties, 2am voice memo conversations, supposed songs written about me (maybe), lingering looks, and a lot of conversations about astrology spiralled into me having full blown feelings for his pretentious ass. and it’s worse because he was never just a stupid boy. he was everything that i had always asked the universe for. i always said, that if the universe ever decided to send me my first boyfriend, that i wanted him to be educated in social issues, intelligent, motivated. capricorn was this.
it’s just a shame that he probably didn’t feel the same way.
i’ve been holding out hope for the longest time that maybe, just maybe, this time, i could finally be the girl that a guy looks at and says “yo, i want her.” the girl that someone looks at and sees something they could love. i wanted to experience the feeling of having someone reciprocate your feelings, and being in a relationship, and learning and growing with eachother. i wanted to have my first kiss and all these other things i dreamt up in my head because that’s what my scorpio ass does best; dreams.
for once, i wanted to be that girl. the girl that’s desired. and not just desired but desired enough that someone truly starts to pursue me.
let me cut to the chase and tell you that didn’t happen here.
i let myself over-analyze, i blamed myself, wondered what i was doing wrong, how i could be “cooler”, if i was “cool enough” to even be with someone like him; that was my first mistake, putting some boy on a pedestal because i was lonely and touch-starved. scorpio ass behaviour.
i let myself get sad when he wouldn’t text, or when he wouldn’t reply how i wanted. when he wouldn’t give me back the same energy i gave to him. i let myself get angry when i would show up to events to support him and he would dissapear for hours or flirt with other girls. because what the fuck? wasn’t i the one? i’m supposed to be the one. it’s my turn to be the one that somebody wants. why did the universe keep dangling something in front of me that i clearly couldn’t have?
i thought that when i moved, everything would be different and somehow the stars would align and i would meet a boy that would finally make me “the one”. finally, i would get to experience everything my friends did while i sat on the sidelines and wished i had what they did.
nah though, that’s not how shit works for girls like me apparently.
girls like me lead ourselves on, the boys don’t even have to do any work.
girls like me bask in the smidge of attention our crush gives us because we thrive off of the hope that somehow, maybe, possibly, they could feel the exact same way we have for so long and that eventually everything will come out and it will be a happy ending.
but what happens when none of that shit goes to plan?
i uploaded some random track that i was pretty proud of, it wasnt an official release so i wasnt really expecting a wide response. and i had been training myself not to expect anything from capricorn so i wouldn’t get hurt. but i couldn’t help the feeling i got when i realized that he didn’t share my song on instagram - which - i know, petty. but it was really the principle that got to me.
i’ve been so supportive of this guy for the longest time. i would always ask about his projects, current and upcoming, hype him up over the littlest things but very rarely did he ever even ask me about what i had planned or about my day, anything he posted relating to his music, i would repost. i would message him saying congratulations, or that his song was fire or that he was just doing a really good job. i’d come to his shows and do the same. and he couldn’t even repost a track on his instagram feed? why? too worried about looking cool and professional for his all his lowkey famous edgy hipster friends?
something switched inside me, really, i just got angry. anger is the key for me a lot of the time. and it helped me realize, as much as it fucking hurt, that i wasn’t and would never get the same energy back from capricorn, no matter how hard i tried. no matter how much or how little i posted. regardless of how i analyzed the lyrics of his songs that i thought were about me, or the content of his instagram posts or his messages back. i would never get what i was putting in. and i still don’t know why.
i don’t know why i never seem to be enough for the ones i truly want. but then did i really want him or the idea of him? regardless, i get neither at the end of the day. and that shit hurts, because this time, i let my hopes get higher and higher.
and boy is it a long way down.
my minds gone through many phases when it comes to him, but i think im finally at the point where im just accepting the fact that he doesnt want me even though i want him.
so bad.
and maybe its the 3am talking, but i dont think anybody will ever want me in the way i want them.
one time when i was 15, one of my friends said she couldn’t ever imagine me in a relationship. i cant either.
maybe i’m unlovable, maybe love and relationships just aren’t supposed to be a thing for someone like me.
i don’t really know if i believe in love anymore- which i know seems a bit dramatic all because of one guy but please understand its really an accumulation of things over the past few years of my growth.
nothing the universe has given me or shown me tells me that i could ever find love in any place i look.
so, i’m just going to stop looking.
and i’m going to stop hoping, and manifesting, and wishing on 11:11′s, and on stars that i’m too far away to reach.
and i’m going to stop opening my heart to every person who glances at it and smiles.
and i’m going to stop giving the best version of myself to boys who wont even give me a quarter of what they are.
and i’m going to stop thinking like just because i’ve moved countries that things have changed for me.
and i’m going to accept that love isn’t something that was made for me.
it never was.
at least now i know for sure.
#black girl#black love#first love#first kiss#young love#crush#unrequited love#sad thoughts#poem#poems on tumblr#text post#confessions of a black girl#diary of a black girl
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im jaebum » kiss the girl
i got the idea of doing this from reading a bed sharing AU i found on Tumblr, you can find it here. i take no credit for these prompts or gifs, however i do take credit for writing these stories.
mark | jaebum | jinyoung | jackson | youngjae | bambam | yugyeom
title- kiss the girl
prompt - “we fell asleep on the couch together on accident, how did my hand end up in your hair? were you breathing on my neck?! (why did I get tingly???????)”
pairing - im jaebum/fem!reader
tags - drinking, fluff, again hickies, suggestive snuggling, good morning anacondas, train to busan s p o i l e r s im sorry, they're meaningful hickies tho, is that even a thing, little mermaid reference ayyyye, bambam just rly likes hello kitty ok
word count - 2,009 words
author's note: im sorry this chapter was so shitty, i just got done with school and i have a job so i work like 5 days out of the week, and i have college and payments and bills and ew. But i will try to be as productive as i can with the other members! enjoy!
How you ended up like this, you have no idea.
The last thing you remember was boo-hoo crying along with Youngjae at the ending of Train to Busan, probably annoying the hell out of Yugyeom on Youngjae's left and Jaebum on your right of the couch.
Listen, as much as they wanna complain, Su-an deserved her fucking father -- the scene when he made her let go of him in the train car and he forced himself away was brutal to your heart strings -- and he didn't deserve to die in the end. Neither did the buff dude who's name couldn't come to mind at the time in writing this story.
"Hey, (Y/N)-ah?" Youngjae sniffled out your name, you remembered, causing you to look over and he wiped his eyes. "Could you get me another s-soju, please...?" He asked and you nodded, getting up from your spot next to an already passed out Jaebum, head tilted back on the arm of the couch, exposing his neck and god you had way to many drinks.
You remember wiping your tears and trying to worm your way through the sea of bodies across your living room, slung across one another in slumber.
However, there were six things you woke up to in the morning that you were prepared for.
And one thing you weren't.
BamBam was curled up on the coffee table with a Hello Kitty blanket and a neck pillow (you honestly weren't surprised he could fit on there, he's so skinny-).
Yugyeom and Jinyoung were on the floor to the right of the coffee table, Yugyeom using Jinyoung's sweater as a blanket, and Jinyoung using Yugyeom's stomach as a pillow.
Youngjae was laying on the loveseat, Coco (yes, he brought his dog) sleeping on his chest while Mark was on the floor in front of that sofa.
Jackson was snoring quietly in the recliner with one knee pulled up to his chest rather uncomfortably, and his other sprawled out on the foot rest.
All those were expected. Even your slight hangover was expected.
However, the thing that caught your attention was the thick arm curling around your waist, keeping you pinned beneath the owner and the couch. You were on your back, but you couldn't see the face of who was currently making you suffer from so much body heat. However, you could feel a few things that gave you an idea.
He was breathing in and out slowly, his mouth moving slightly against the expanse of your throat as he stirred and you weren't sure if you were still dreaming because no way in hell can this be who you think it is. But all the signs did scream yes. The silky black strands your right hand was entangled in, the piercings you could feel resting against your shoulder, the other hand poking into your thigh-
Wait a minute.
If your head is resting on one arm of his.
One hand of yours is in his hair.
His other arm is around your waist.
And your other hand is fisted in his shirt.
Oh-
Oh my god.
That's a dick.
That's his dick.
His dick is hard-
Im Jaebum's dick is hard-
and it's-
now poking into your leG.
p a n i c-
Then the lips that were pressed against your neck began to part. And that was when the panic began to low-key set in. Open-mouthed kisses were placed on the space just over your jugular, kisses that had you squirming in the best ways. You were actually enjoying yourself. Until you realized how incredibly wrong it was as to what you were doing.
You liked Jaebum, but he didn't like you. And it was wrong of you to let him do this to you, knowing that he had no idea it was you who he was doing it to. His morning wood had nothing to do with you, his closeness, his tongue technology (a to the g to the u to the sTD- sorry) all of it had nothing to do with you. It was just his dream, and it didn't involve you-
"(Y/N)~"
Or, dreams do come true and he just moaned your fucking name.
His voice startled you, causing you to jump. Which was a bad idea. Because that caused him to switch positions, so now he was on the bottom (hehe, bottom) and you were laying over him, his arms tightly around your torso so you weren't moving anytime soon.
aND YOU COULD feEL his dICK.
Anaconda. Cock-A-Doodle-Do. Pool Noodle. Hot Dog. Banana. Incredible Hulk. The terms are endless but it was there and o h m y g o d. Do you scream, do you cry, who the fuck knows.
You were about to wake him up when what he said next had your face redder than whatever 'set' he was complaining about. "Black makes you look sexier, (Y/N), more dangerous... I like it." Fuc- it's okay, you were fine.
"Jaebum... Jaebum-" You called softly, lightly patting his cheek but all that got was a nose twitch and a small groan. You sighed, before it dawned on you. You'd liked Jaebum for a while... when were you going to get another chance like this? You always thought since you were the third oldest out of the group of friends, two months older than BamBam, that he saw you as some kid. I mean, you two talked amongst each other about photography and such, but he never looked like he saw more of you.
Well, this was a game changer.
Taking all the courage you had, you leaned down and you kissed him. It was quick, barely even a full second, but you pulled back and scanned his face, but found no signs of consciousness.
Until he smirked a few seconds later.
"I knew you liked me, (Y/N)."
His sleepy smirk turned into a full on grin as he flipped the two of you once again, now both your hands on your stomach and his on either side of you, holding himself up. God, he looked gorgeous even when he was just getting up; his hair matted on one side, his voice deeper than ever, it rivaled Jackson's even.
You were pretty sure that you looked a mess. Ruined eyeliner from crying with Youngjae at the end of the movie – your breath probably smelled straight from a dumpster with how much you'd drank combined morning breath and it didn't sound like that good of a combination. You probably even had some drool dried on your chin.
You were sputtering like a dying engine trying to figure out what the hell to say. But he said it for you. "I... I know that I don't seem like I have feelings... for really anything." He confessed, catching your attention down to his plush pink lips just begging for yours. "Jinyoung and Youngjae have been working with me on that- I promise." He added, slightly caressing your cheek with his thumb.
“Oh my god, shut up I have a hangover let me sleep!” BamBam croaked out in his slightly deep voice – it was in English, surprisingly, rather than Korean or even Thai – and he just rolled over on his back to face the other way, the small Hello Kitty blanket barely covering his thin, lanky form.
This caused the tension in the room to shift. With you frozen beneath him, after the outburst from BamBam it caused you to go into a fit of giggles; ones you hushed yourself with your hand to keep from waking him up more. Jaebum was no better, biting his bottom lip to stop from laughing himself. After you two calmed down, he resumed his monologue.
Do you think he practiced it?
He totally practiced it.
For the sake of your own ego, you led yourself to believe he practiced it.
"I know I might treat you like a kid sometimes, but that's just because I'm scared of getting close to someone... someone I like a lot and have them leave me in the dust just for my fame. But I-... I know you won't do that to me, (Y/N)... right?"
God, it broke your heart to hear such things come from the singer's mouth. He'd been your friend since he was in the JJ Project, when you and Youngjae were just itty bitty trainees at JYP. Then, you'd landed a job in the production of GOT7, and were a on a team as a artist for their albums and their brand. But you always were honest with everyone, especially the GOT7 members, they were like family to you.
But Jaebum... he was more. He made your heart flutter with every passing glance.
You'd had a crush on him, even in his awkward blonde JJP phase with Jinyoung -- who was like an older brother to you. You would barely talk to Jaebum as a trainee, and when you weren't cutting it for debut, you were surprised to find yourself in JYPD-nim's office, and have him tell you that you got a job instead.
You didn't know it, but when Jaebum was told of the trainees that weren't debuting and were being let go from the company, he had to make sure you were kept on the team. He didn't know how to tell you of his feelings for you, but he would keep you around until he did.
And here he was.
C O N F E S S I N G.
"S-So, (Y/N), will you-"
"Yes. Yes, a billion times yes, just.. one thing."
He tilted his head, a big sleepy grin on his face at your acceptance of his feelings as well as reciprocation. "What's that?"
You bit your lip to hide your smile.
"Kiss me?"
And he sure as hell did. He kissed everywhere -- your eyelids, nose, cheeks, chin, lips, everywhere he could reach, leaving you in giggles. Until he kissed somewhere that had you making other noises that you had to clasp your hand over your mouth to hide.
He left exactly five marks on your skin. One for each year he knew you. One for each year that he should have told you. One for each year he left behind with you.
Just as he was finishing the last one, with you just barely managing to push him away from your neck so you could have a minute to breathe without it being into your hand, you heard a round of 'ooh's' sounding around the room.
"Jaebummie-hyung got some!"
Oh my god, Yugyeom. Go back to sleep.
"Good, now he'll stop complaining about her talking with Jackson more than him."
That was Jinyoung.
"She doesn't talk with me that much more!"
You were red in the face.
"Aish! You woke up Coco and now I have a headache!"
"Yah, Youngjae-ah, I think there's pills in the bathroom-"
Everyone was awake aside from BamBam, who was still snoring comfortably on the coffee table, passed out drunk.
And here you were, buried under Jaebum with marks littering your neck from him.
"Come, Jaebum! Kiss the girl!"
Jaebum looked down at you, a big grin on his face.
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