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ereana · 3 months

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drabble prompts: zhongven; 2, 36, and/or 50

Zhongven 2 - The thought of losing you scares me

Venti was angry.

He didn’t like being angry. It scraped against his mind like shards of glass turning the very air around him into sharp stinging winds, the sort that left humans chilled to the bone on a cold winter’s day when not even the warmest coat could keep out the cold.

It was a little embarrassing really. He was one of the oldest gods left yet he still was at the mercy of his own emotions unlike a certain blockhead who—

The sound of splintering wood filled his ears as the tree beside him disintegrated into sawdust as the very air around it tore into the bark in a sudden fit of rage. Venti pinched his brow and let out a deep sigh.

Right. This was why he was here sitting on one of the cliffs overlooking the Stone Gate instead of drowning his sorrows at the Angel’s Share. Diluc might actually try to kill him if Venti destroyed the building because of his bad mood. Plus he didn’t want to accidentally hurt any of his people who were completely innocent and had nothing to do with his current displeasure unlike a certain traitorous liar of a lizard that he was determinedly not thinking about.

A few unlucky birds flying overhead let out chirps of alarm as they were suddenly spent spinning towards the ground, with a flick of his fingers Venti corrected the breeze and sent them gracefully soaring towards Liyue.

He watched them silently for a few moments. While he wasn’t the sort of being to lose himself in melancholic thoughts there were times when taking a minute or two to just think could be helpful. And it wasn't like this was a normal situation either.

If it was normal, whatever normal meant to a wind wisp turned god turned ex-archon turned bard — although he had been a bard for quite some time so maybe the chronology needed some rethinking — then he wouldn’t have any issue controlling his anger. Venti would like it to be noted, probably in one of his own songs, that he was usually pretty good at the whole self control thing. He hadn’t turned his anger on Mondstadt when he’d learned what happened to Dvalin. There were secrets that could shake the world locked safely behind his teeth. Granted there were perhaps a few too many people who knew his true identity but it wasn’t his fault that his people were so perceptive!

With all that compelling evidence in mind, Venti was confident in asserting that had this been a normal issue he would not have had to exile himself to a barren cliff edge because he was a danger to everyone around him due to his fury turning the summer breeze into blades of anemo.

He nodded decisively before groaning at his own inability to deal with the actual problem

Although judging by the footsteps steadily approaching the problem had come to deal with him instead.

Venti closed his eyes and waited until the intruder had reached the top of the cliff, unable to get too close because of the protective vortex which now surrounded him but close enough to hear him.

“I’m mad at you.” Venti stated quietly, his voice devoid of its usual humour.

“I can tell.” Morax — or was it Zhongli now — said calmly. So calm it made the winds whip up into a frenzy sending blades of freshly cut grass spiraling into the sky.

“Is that all you have to say?” He asked, and now there was a note of anger in his tone. “After what you—” Venti cut himself off, clicking his tongue in frustration at the mix of hurt, relief and sadness which swelled inside his chest.

“No, there is much I would say to you. If you would allow it.”

Venti laughed, a harsh sound that grated against his ears.

“Oh now I’m suddenly someone worth talking to. Now. When the damage has been done and the dust has settled here you come ready to make things right once more. What does the immediate upset matter when it can be fixed with a deal or a contract to replace what has been….” Venti stopped and finally turned to look at the man behind him. “I thought you died Morax.”

Morax stared at him quietly. They’ve known each for far too long to hide anything from the other and Venti can see in an instant that he won’t get an apology for what happened. Morax will offer one for hurting him, for not seeking him out straight away after the matter had concluded, but he won’t apologize for the act itself.

“You had to, my dear. In case someone was watching the wind had to mourn the loss of the mountain.” Morax stepped forward causing Venti to instantly drop the vortex in case the old fool actually hurt himself.

It only took a few of his husband’s long strides before Morax was lowering himself to sit beside Venti. Venti, who hadn’t seen him since he woke up from his unplanned five hundred year long nap, dropped his head onto one firm shoulder. It was about as comfortable as using a rock for a pillow.

“The thought of losing you scares me more than anything. It almost broke me.” He admitted softly.

If there really had been a murderer in the world Venti would not have stopped until he’d ripped the air from the culprit’s lungs himself.

Mor— no Zhongli was probably best to use now. Morax had died.

Zhongli wrapped a hesitant hand around Venti’s waist. Venti let him, too tired and too relieved to push away the comfort. His husband wasn’t wearing any gloves so the warmth from the golden veins in his hand seeps through Venti’s shirt to his skin. After five hundred years Venti was back where he belonged.

“Don’t do it again blockhead.”

A press of lips against his head, the stroke of a thumb against his waist, and the first contract made by the man known as Zhongli.

“I promise.”

#genshin impact #zhongven #zhongli #venti #my writing #hope you enjoy!

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dracowars · 2 years

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hi! i'd like to ask a one shot on fred weasley in which y/n is a pureblood slytherin who went from an enemies to lovers relationship with fred. lately she started feeling like she isn't enough for him and that she's disappointing her family with their secret affair. so she starts taking a distance from him and sinks into some kind of depression; she always suffered with self worth issues and confidence, always thinking she wouldn't be up to the standards her parents set for her. but she never showed it, not even to fred. he notices her change in behaviour and gets worried, so he decides to confront her and they end up having a huge and angsty argument.

thanks :)

define me | fred weasley

pairing: fred x syltherin!reader

word count: 1,9k

summary: where y/n feels like her relationship with fred is doomed

a/n: trying to go through all my requests in my holidays!! hope you enjoy this one <3

warnings: angst

universe: harry potter

„If that isn’t the most beautiful girl in the whole wide world right there!”, a cheerful voice calls out behind you, after you have just made your way out of the greenhouses from your Herbology class and in the direction of the castle. Rolling your eyes playfully, you turn to the origin of the voice and are immediately drawn into a tight hug that, admittedly, you did not see coming. Apparently the Weasley twins just finished their daily training session while you had to deal with a Venomous Tentacula.

“Stop it, Fred!”, you giggle softly as he begins to scatter soft kisses across your face while continuing to give you all the compliments that come to his mind, which his twin brother does not approve of either as his face kind of turns into a shade of green.

“Gross, get a room”, George chokes out, while you are not sure how much of it he is faking and what is actually real, but at least he manages to stop his brother with his words.

“Just don’t pay attention to him, he is just an annoying ringing in the ear and pretty jealous that his last date did not go as well”, Fred winks at you, causing you to laugh out loud. “How about we sneak out to the lake tonight? Just the two of us?”

“Sounds great”, you smile and gently kiss him, which George comments on with another gag. Running your hands over your boyfriend’s broad shoulders, you adjust his Quidditch uniform while grinning to yourself. “I think your brother wants to go and unfortunately, I have to go to Potions now.”

“Alright, see you tonight, my love”, Fred smiles, kissing you one last goodbye before the two of them wave you goodbye and disappear into the castle. Absorbed in your dreamy thoughts, you look after them and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, but when you suddenly hear footsteps behind you, your posture stiffens and the voices you now hear make you shiver. These voices never mean anything good.

“Oh, how adorable! But what would Mommy and Daddy Y/L/N say if they knew their only daughter and heiress to their empire is dating a Weasley?”, Pansy Parkinson’s annoying voice says behind you, her words making your heart beat faster. You and Fred do not hide the fact that you are in a relationship, but you have always kept it low, especially in front of the Slytherins. Because each of them knows your family, and your family happens to be unaware of their daughters’ dishonorable actions, or, well, love interests.

“They always talk about you in such high tones, and they don’t even know that their daughter lies to their face every time, so cold and unscrupulous. A Gryffindor and a Slytherin? My parents would kick me out of Hogwarts in a heartbeat and never let me leave the house again”, Daphne Greengrass adds, a wicked grin on her lips that is only made worse by the fact that you do not have a counter.

Because they are right. It is the truth.

As the only child of the Y/L/N family, you have always been in the spotlight, but not in a good way. You have never been allowed to make mistakes or make your own decisions or live the way you want or hang out with the people you want. Business dinners and balls are all you knew for a long time, events where they could present their flagship daughter to the world. They never realized the pressure they put on you. Or they did but did not care about it.

“Leave me alone”, are the only puny words you can manage to get out before rushing to the safety of the building. Their judgmental looks burn into the back of your head and their words entice you to take a detour, not to your next lesson but to your common room in the Slytherin dungeon, where you lie down on your bed and do not get up until the next morning. While doing so, you completely forgot that you actually had plans with Fred in the evening and instead spent your time trying to avoid your parents’ looks from the family photo next to your bed. Without success, because you can clearly feel their disappointment and the consequences of your actions incredibly scare you, which is why you make a decision for your own sake.

Even if it means you have to break the heart of the boy who was always there for you when your family was not.

════════════

The numerous voices swirling around you just echo to you through a tunnel as you sit listlessly in front of your breakfast, your stomach heavy. You do not dare to raise your eyes for fear you might make eye contact with someone. Lonely, you sit at the end of the table, the other Slytherins paying little attention to the fact that one of them separates themselves from the group.

When a plate falls to the ground with a loud crash at a table next to you, shattering into many pieces, you startle and reflexively look in that direction. Which turns out to be a huge mistake, because your eyes meet Fred’s in a second, who is smiling at you from across the hall. He does not look the tiniest bit disappointed that you dumped him, he just seems happy that you are sitting here this morning. With the first of the day approaching, the first few students rise and scurry to the exit of the Great Hall, trying to make it to their classrooms in time.

Fred, who has not taken his eyes off you, gets up at the exact same moment you do. Noticing this, you quicken your steps and duck among the crowd of students that are gathering in the hallways. You ignore the fact that he calls after you before you fully disappear into the crowd and go straight to your lesson.

Relieved that you could manage to avoid him all day, you leave the room after class, your backpack over your shoulder and a book under your right arm. However, you do not expect Fred to be waiting for you in the hallway with his back against the wall, his arms crossed in front of his chest. Your eyes meet for a brief moment, and you immediately turn away, going in the other direction, but it is too late. If he did not notice before that you are avoiding him, he definitely noticed now when he runs after you, standing in front of you to block your way.

“Fred, I am in a hurry”, you say with your head down and walk past him, but he grabs your arms, lifting you off the ground briefly before placing you directly in front of him again. No more escape.

“Why are you avoiding me?”, he asks directly, which only makes you more insecure. Your trembling hands grip the book tighter, as if it could give you strength to get through what is about to come.

“I am not avoiding you, I just really don’t have time to-”

“Did I do something wrong?”, Fred asks worried and sad, making your heart ache even more. The fact that he immediately related all of it to himself does not make it any easier for you to say the next few words, but you know you have to.

“I don’t think this works, Fred”, you say emotionlessly, but your shaky voices gives your true feelings away. Still, the shock creeping up on his face is unbearable.

“Wait, wait.. What? What are you even talking about?”, he prompts, as if he did not quite understand what you were saying, even though you both know perfectly what you just hinted at.

“I am just saying.. We are too different. You are a Gryffindor, I am Slytherin. It just doesn’t fit”, you explain and as soon as the words leave your lips realize that this will not be the point that ultimately convinces him. Because it sounds stupid. Because it is stupid.

“Who put such nonsense in your head?”, Fred laughs, but there is no humor in it. “Was it that Pansy Parkinson again? What did she say this time-”

“No, Fred. It’s my decision, no one told me anything and if you will excuse me now, I have classes that require my presence”, you brush him off and due to the complete state of shock Fred is in right now, he lets you pass him. He does not notice the tear that runs down your cheek as you do.

“So I am supposed to just accept that you are breaking up with me, leaving me without any proper explanation?”, he finally calls after you in a loud voice. But what makes you stop are not his words, but the sadness that resonates with them. Your heart breaks a bit more at the sound.

“Fred..”

“You dumped me yesterday without telling me. I didn’t know where you were, I didn’t know what happened or if you were okay. I was worried sick just for you to ignore me the whole day and then tell me it is over between us?”, he says, hurt and confused by what is happening at the moment, unable to understand why you are suddenly feeling this way. “I am sorry, but I don’t think what you are saying is true.”

“How so? Because I always lie?”

“No, that is not-”

“Alright, Fred, I got it. Everything always has to be up to you”, you claim, getting too involved in this arising argument. If he had just accepted your decision, it would have been less painful for both of you.

“It is not fair, Y/N. If you really want to end this between us, then I also deserve to know why”, Fred replies and takes another step towards you so that you can see the pain in his eyes even better now. His gaze holds yours and when you think you see tears forming in his eyes, all damns in you break all of a sudden.

“You want to know why?! Because I am no good for you, Fred. I am a bad person. We should not even exist as a couple because it is doomed to fail anyway! I am not allowed to associate with the people I like and choose myself. I am and always have been the pride of my family and I will not let them down just because I am with someone like you-”

You cannot finish your emotional outburst as Fred pulls you into the bone-crushing hug you so desperately needed, wrapping his arms around your waist tightly. He runs his hand over your hair, the back of your head, and your back in an attempt to calm you down and stop your tears.

“Who your parents are doesn’t define who you are, Y/N”, he whispers softly in your ear as you violently sob in his strong arms, that hold you upright to not let you sink on the cold floor. “You are the most incredible witch I have ever met, and your parents must be so incredibly proud of you, there is no other way. You have always done what they asked of you, but it is finally time for you to be selfish. I won’t lose you over this. I won’t allow it.”

Fred’s words patch your heart back together in seconds and make it pound faster than ever. You know he is right and you do not have to bow to your parents’ demands anymore. But there is still a long way to go before you can fully accept yourself as you are and be proud of yourself at the same time. Fred will be with you every step on this journey.

“Maybe our relationship isn’t the end, but it’s the beginning.”

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amugoffandoms · 9 months

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Ahahaha i am making you talk about how the voting will affect kazui and yuno~~~

🔫😄

omg there's a gun im being threatened to talk about this oh no it's definitely not like I was planning on doing this anyway because I'm UNWELL ABOUT THEM AT 1 AM

ANYWAYS DRUMROLL FOLKS WATCHING IN THE AUDIENCE, IT'S TIME FOR MUG'S 1 AM MILGRAM THOUGHTS!!!

How Voting Will Affect the Liars

Similarities

From the get-go, we already know they're pretty similar. They have references to a cat in their t2 MVs (A flash of a cat silhouette in Tear Drop and Cat. [And also the Dove eating])

We also have Yuno confirming this in her interrogation questions.

Which prisoner is the most like you? Kazui is the only option.

The two of them are also related to theater.

Yuno mentions in one of her interrogation questions that she's a part of a theater club and half takes place at a theater.

Observant Pair

Yuno is able to point out lies while having a conversation. (See her catching Kazui lying about his type and Mikoto's smiling.) She's also pretty observant with all the relationships with the prisoners (Haruka & Muu, Shidou & Amane).

I'd say Kazui is also observant. I recall a timeline conversation he had with Fuuta about attacking a guard. He mentioned that the guard could have a gun or other weapons, which is why you would have to be careful when making decisions.

Now, here's where I get a little more assumptions and stuff and less concrete similarities, but I'm doing it because I love these characters a lot so it's okay!

They both have bad self-esteem/ issues.

Yuno's aren't especially prevalent in any of her voice dramas/songs, but just note that I'd feel like being told you're some little girl when you want to be thought as of yourself would be seriously bad for your mental health.

And, also, looking at current timeline conversations, she's been asking a lot if it was worth it to be born which haha girl you need therapy.

She does mention she wouldn't mind living her life over again, which sure, doesn't sound indicative of any problems, but considering how terrible it is to be dealing with people almost dying everyday and hearing people pretend you are lesser than who you are, pretending you are some little girl, I'd say it's pretty sound reasoning for some issues.

Kazui had a little, uh, how to call it, breakdown-ish over him lying his entire life.

E: In short – between love and hate, [I would say] I hate you. Remember that. K: … I get that. E: Huh? K: I despise myself for lying, too. Being a liar, you see – it’s painful. E: Heh. Then just– K: So I’ve tried to change! I’ve tried to change. I have tried to stop lying to myself and others! E: … K: I’ve confided in others. I’ve tried to be myself! I’ve tried to just be the way I was born! E: …Hey, Kazui– K: It’s not my lies that killed her. She’s dead because I stopped lying to her! If I had just kept lying- She wouldn’t have died…! E: Kazui… K: I can’t live unless I lie. That’s how I was born… I’m pathetic, aren’t I?

[Source]

You can also take a look at a single interrogation question and see how terrible he's doing.

Do you like yourself? I can't really say I do.

So, wowee they seriously need some therapy (sorry I'm trying to be lighthearted I'm still think about kazui's votes BAHAHSHDH also these two being my favorite characters of milgram is not a good sign for myself)

They would rather they never committed the murder.

If you could turn back time, would you commit the same murder once again? I'd make sure that I won't have to commit it. That's it.

Do you regret your "murder"? I do regret it. I should have kept lying.

(Voice Drama)

K: It’s not my lies that killed her. She’s dead because I stopped lying to her! If I had just kept lying- She wouldn’t have died…!

Love and Like

Now, this one is sort of hard to determine on Kazui's side, but they do seem to make some sort of clear distinction between love and Like.

Difference between like and love? Isn't liking a state, and loving a feeling?

Cat MV

Maybe, perhaps… or… could it come true… like It’s for the sake of true love, who wouldn’t lie for that? . . .

Hey, so what if I said I liked-liked you, what would you do?

Kazui mentions true love (so, let's say romantic in this sense!) and I'll use liked-liked as just crushing.

Kazui says he lied (to protect his wife) because of true love. He mentions he likes someone because he was wondering about it.

Now, Kazui as a liar is pretty obvious. He mentions he's a liar, continue lying until you find the king of the masquerade, and shown as a magician (known for tricking and lying). He basically says he's lied for others.

Lying

(please enjoy silly minigram)

Yuno has lied as well. Not in MILGRAM, of course. She has no reason to lie. I'd say moreso on the side of her work. She's lied to her clients about who she is because she wanted to satisfy her client. She dresses up (hey, is this a half reference why is there changing costumes in this /j) for each of her clients and lies to them just to satisfy them for the money.

Someone mentioned in a post I reblogged a while back that they both lied to satisfy others and that's what they did.

This same post was when I begin to realize how Kazui's voting will severely affect Yuno.

Voting

So, this is the part of the post you've all be waiting for.

The Voting.

Now, luckily for Yuno, she's innocent! Haha, woo!!

We'll talk more about that later.

Kazui's voting is interesting to say the least! (Please don't look at my last posts to see how crazy I went please vote him innocent anyways)

To me, Kazui's vote feels like would you forgive a liar who has come clean, who has begun to show their true self to you?

Kazui is beginning to reveal himself to us, to show the person underneath the lies, the costumes, and the masquerade masks.

He's trying to be honest again! For the first time since his wife's death, he's trying to show the truth and let Es reveal him for who he is: a liar, a liar who is trying to be their true self.

Now, let's reflect on Yuno for a moment.

Let's recall one of the main objections to Yuno's voting last round. She didn't like being voted innocent because of how much they tried to justify her actions and act like she's such a poor, innocent girl who only did it because she's never felt love. She couldn't believe she was voted innocent because of that! Because of lies she had made up for her clients. (Shove that, in Kazui's words lol)

She wants Es to judge not because she's pitiful but because they believe it is a correct judgment to decide. To use logic instead of half-baked opinions on herself.

She wants Es to see her true self, someone who isn't pitiful, someone who did it because she wanted to.

See the line of connection?

They both want Es to see them for who they are, not for their lies.

Now, reflecting on the current voting, let's look at Yuno.

Even after her telling us/Es not to pity her, apparently some people still acted like she was an innocent girl. And even then, we all sort of chalked her up as abortion girlboss (GUYS please she's so much more than that head in hands places hand on wall) AND, hey, I'm not saying I'm immune to this, my reaction to her was pretty much the same. I'd vote her innocent no matter the reason (I love her character or that her murder is forgivable to me, even with the pregnancy entrapment theory)

But, she's more than that. She's more than a single action she's done.

But, somehow we missed that while we voted and made our decision.

We decided she was just a single action she's done made from her lies. She was trying to make sure we'd see her as herself, not a single thing we did.

And we didn't! We voted her innocent because she's a pitiable girl who has done nothing wrong.

So, wowed, strike one for us, Failure to Vote for One's True Self.

We voted for a single part about her and disregarded everything else because it was easy.

We didn't let her show us for who she is.

Now, Kazui time!

I've already mentioned previously that Kazui wants to show his true self to us, so I won't regurgitate stuff you already know.

Now, I feel like it's sort of clear that people don't care too much about that. More on the fact that he could have stopped at any time. (He wanted to tell the truth on his terms. Divorce is also a pretty bad look on you in Japan so I've heard.) He wanted to protect his wife, okay, cool cool.

He still wants Es to reveal his true self. (And, judging from the guilty verdicts, I don't think that'll work, that'll just make them worse in the long run.)

Also, quick tangent: This sounds familiar. Why does this voting seem like we've done this before as if we wanted to reveal their true self as if we wanted to show them their sins.. anywho

And, by giving Kazui a guilty verdict, we're only further proving that we don't give a damn about wanting to know about his true self, only that he lied to his wife, disregarding any of his own feelings related to the matter. We don't care about him wanting to be hinest.

We're proving we don't care about his true self, only his actions.

So, now it's strike two! Failure to Allow Someone to their True Self.

So, yeah, isn't that fun? We failed to vote for someone's true self and failed to let them even be that.

So, why do I think Kazui's voting will affect Yuno?

Well, they're pretty similar, we know that.

They both are liars who have lied to satisfy others in a sense.

Kazui's voting is to see if we can allow someone to be their true self and be honest about themselves. He was beginning to do that when he took off his ring.

Kazui getting voted guilty means that we don't really care about their true self and their feelings, only their actions matter. None of their circumstances matter. (Hey, reduction of punishment by extenuating circumstances? What in the world, how did you get in here I thought that was only a Yuno thing)

Yuno is trying to show that she wants to be seen as her true self and we're forcing this man to continue lying.

So, guess what? Yuno probably won't show her true self if we're failing to even let someone be honest and vote based on their true self.

Yuno wants to be seen for who she is. And, it seems like we have an odd aversion to that.

So, Yuno will never find the warmth that will allow her to be true, to be herself. Hey, maybe she could die trying to be herself, who knows?

All we know is that we're deciding if someone's true self is worth seeing.

Judging by the current votes and what our judgments are based upon, Yuno will never be able to be herself. We have decided that it's not worth seeing anyway.

#I apologize if this is so confusing it's literally 2 am ad i finished typing this up #i am unwell abojt these two #places hand on wl #thanm you for asking me to talk about this though i am unwrel.abojt them #mug theorizes #milgram #mukuhara kazui #kazui mukuhara #kashiki yuno #yuno kashiki

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angelst4re · 2 years

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Hiya. I LOVE your Jamie drabbles.

You're very talented.

I wondered if maybe you would consider this for a future fic/series:

Jamie fancies you. But you have no clue why.

Reader is overweight with little body confidence and never had someone like him interested in her before. A thin guy with a chubby girl? No way!

But she agrees to a date because she is mesmerised by him. He quickly realises how much she struggles to accept his interest and delicate advances. He makes it his mission to break down the walls she's cocooned herself in and show her just how much she's worth. Make her feel good about herself.

Just sweet, and/or smutty. I leave that decision to you! 😊

hi my love!! as someone who's always been bigger than all my friends and still struggles accepting that it's possible to be loved I LOVE THIS. i was so excited to write this and i think i might make it a 2/3 part series because I HAVE MORE!!

As You Are- Jamie Campbell Bower x Plussize!Reader

𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐬, 𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞

୨♡୧ warnings: reader has a negative self image

୨♡୧ note: I HIT 200 FOLLOWERS TODAY WHAAT?!?!?! THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! <33

“Y/n, it’s your 25th birthday! And you want to spend it at home watching… whatever this is?” Your friend, Georgia, turned to look at the TV in disgust, “desperate housewives. Really? You’d rather watch this instead of coming with us to the club? You could get free drinks because you’re the birthday girl!”

You sigh and take a moment to think about it. You hadn’t gone out in a while, so it would be nice, but you had work tomorrow so you didn’t want to have to go in with a hangover. But you only turn 25 once…

“Fuck it.” You say, turning the TV off and opening your wardrobe doors, “what dress says ‘birthday girl’, the black one or-”

“The black one! It’s so sexy, I swear if you don’t wear it…” She shook her fist in the air, as if to threaten you as she laughed. “C’mon, it opens in two hours. Do you want to come to mine to get ready?”

“Sure, just let me get some things and- who else is going there tonight?”

“You and me, of course, but Madeline’s coming with her boyfriend and I think Sasha has the flu so she’s staying at home.” Georgia explains. “But that’s okay because Sasha’s been quite bitchy to me lately, so it’ll just be the four of us. But I’m planning on getting lucky tonight, what about you?”

Georgia was always the only girl in your group of friends that boys were interested in. You don’t blame them, she’s beautiful. You could never imagine having boys begging you to give them your number, you could never imagine looking as gorgeous as she does, you could never imagine-

“Earth to y/n?! Did you hear me?”

“Hm?”

“I asked if you think you’re going to meet anyone tonight, it’s quite a prestigious club, Madeline’s boyfriend’s dad owns it, so that’s why we’re getting in. I heard Cole Sprouse was in there last week, remember when-”

“Yes, I remember when I had a crush on him. Shut up.” You giggle, blushing in embarrassment, “so when should we start getting ready?”

—————————♡—————————

You were on your second drink, whilst Georgia was on her fifth. Madeline wasn’t drinking as she had to drive her boyfriend and herself home later, which you wished you hadn't started drinking. You promised yourself to only have one, you had work tomorrow, but when you got there, you couldn’t resist.

“Y/n, that guy over there is so fucking hot,” Georgia points, “you should go up and talk to him-”

“No! I think he has a girlfriend, look!”

The brunette turned to a girl sitting on his table and he leaned over and kissed his cheek, at that very moment Georgia frowned and sat back in her seat.

“Why does that always happen? You spot a gorgeous boy and then you find out someone else found him before you?!”

“What are you talking about?” Madeline’s boyfriend, Matt, asked, sitting down with his drink.

“Georgia found a guy who looks like Timothee Chalamet but he has a girlfriend.” You explain, making it sound like it happens all the time.

“I’m going out for a smoke, this is stressing me out too much. Anyone else coming?” Georgia asks, standing up with her cigarettes in her hand.

“Sure.” You say, following her out. Although you don’t smoke anymore, you still enjoyed the atmosphere of the smoking area in bars.

The two of you sat on the small bit of brick wall by the door as Georgia lit her cigarette, your hands kept pulling your dress down your thighs as it would keep rising up- and you didn’t want to flash the group of men in the corner when you stood back up.

“Hey, look, it’s the Timothee guy!” Georgia smacked your lap as he walked out, “I’m gonna ask him if he’s single!”

You admired your friend's confidence. She wasn’t afraid of anything- especially rejection. She had no need to be. You could only recall one time she had been rejected by a guy she liked, and that was only because he was married.

You sighed, playing with your rings as you sat alone waiting for Georgia to come back.

“You alright, darling?” A man asked, you turned to your right and there he was. The most gorgeous man you had ever seen. He had a cigarette in his hand, his fingers decorated with rings and tattoos on his middle fingers, a gold chain bracelet on his wrist. He wore a black shirt which was unbuttoned at the top, revealing a few more tattoos, and black trousers… You instinctively folded your arms over your belly and smiled up at the man.

“Yeah, I’m just waiting for my friend.” You point over to Georgia, who now had her tongue down “Timothee Chalamet’s” throat. You cringed and turned back to the blonde man, who sat down beside you on the wall.

“Well it looks like she’s having fun,” he laughed, before turning his attention back to you, “I’m Jamie by the way.” You were baffled. Surely this had to be a dare, there’s no way a guy like this would come over and talk to you. You searched the few groups of people around you to see if anyone was watching or laughing- but there wasn’t.

“I’m y/n,” you replied, sounding quite unsure, “who are you here with?”

“My brother, his girlfriend and some friends. I just got back from filming and they wanted to go out and celebrate.”

“Filming? So you’re like.. An actor?”

“I guess you could say that,” he chuckled. He was about to say something else but you spoke instead.

“Well, I’m here to celebrate my birthday. The big 2-5!”

“No way! Happy birthday!” He grinned, gently placing his hand on your shoulder. You smile at the small touch, but you still had some suspicions about this man. “I turn… oh shit I’m 34 this year?!”

“No you’re not!” You gasp, you guessed he was around your age. You could only hope and pray you looked as young as him when you turn 34. He nodded his head slowly.

Suddenly, Georgia reappeared, extra giggly this time.

“So Timothee’s real name is Dan… And I’m going back to his house, so do you think you could get Madeleine to take you home- Oh! Who is this?” Georgia grinned at Jamie, “See I told you you’d-”

“That’s enough Georgia!” You interrupt her, putting your hand out. “Have fun with Dan, and let me know you’re safe, okay?”

She grinned as she ran off, chasing Dan.

“What was that about? What did she tell you?” Jamie asked with a grin.

“Nothing, she just seems to think everyone can go out and find a quick fuck- Shit! No, that’s not what I meant- It’s… she thinks everyone can pull any guy they want, she seems to forget some of us aren’t as pretty as her…” The alcohol had clearly gotten to you now. You would never have admitted that out loud if you were sober.

“Well, I think you’re pretty. I think you’re beautiful, y/n.” He says, taking one of your hands in his and stroking it with his thumb.

“No you don’t.” You say confidently.

“And why do you think that?” He asks, his eyebrows raised.

“Because I’m… I’m bigger than other girls. It’s embarrassing to be seen with me. You-”

“No, no, no. Stop right there.” He says, trying to stop you from getting overwhelmed as your eyes begin to gloss with tears, “I don’t know what anyone else has told you before, sweetheart, but that’s not true, okay? I would-”

“Y/n, there you are!” Matt sighed in relief as he saw you, “why are you crying? Has he-” As Matt turns to Jamie you quickly explain that it’s just the alcohol, you’re an emotional drunk and that Jamie was trying to calm you down. “Well, Madeline and I are going to leave in a minute, so come back in when you’re ready.”

You thank him and he leaves, you turn back to Jamie and sigh, apologising for everything. Just before you went to leave, Jamie stopped you and asked for your number. In any normal circumstance, you would’ve said no, knowing that he would probably give it to his friend and they’d laugh as you text him back- having known from experience. But you took his phone and typed your number in for him. He smiled as you left, hoping to see you again soon.

—————————♡—————————

Unknown Number:

08:21 Hey :)

08:23 It’s Jamie, what are you doing later? Xx

You ignore the messages, rolling over in your bed and sighing. You couldn’t believe you gave your number to some random man you met at the bar, you cursed yourself for having a decent amount of confidence when you were drunk. You tried to brush it off and get ready for work, coffees weren’t going to make themselves.

“So his name is Jamie… and he’s an actor?!” Georgia often visited you at work for fun, which made the hours fly by. You appreciated her for that. “We get wifi here, right?” She asks, taking her phone from her pocket.

“You’re not going to search him, are you?!” Your eyes widen, “Georgie no!”

Georgia giggled as she opened google.

“Actors named Jamie… These are all old men!” She frowned, showing you her phone.

“Well, he’s blonde and he told me he’s 34 this year which makes him 33 now…”

When Georgia started smiling you knew she had found something, when she bit her lip you knew she found him.

“Is this him by any chance?”

“Holy shit!” Your hand flew to your mouth. He was famous!

“Jamie Campbell Bower… he’s pretty. Have you replied to him yet?”

“No, I don’t think I will.”

“What?! Why?”

“Look at him,” you say, pointing to Georgia’s phone, “and look at me.”

“Y/n, baby, I keep telling you to stop thinking like that! You surely don’t believe you're not worthy of this man just by the way you look?” Georgia frowns, “give me your phone.”

“No!”

“Y/n, either you give me it or you text him yourself,” she grins, “what’s it gonna be?”

You sigh, pulling your phone from your pocket.

“What should I say?” You ask, re-reading the texts he sent you. You will admit that you felt butterflies in your stomach when you read them.

“How about… I finish work at 4, so I’m free any time after that?”

“Georgie, you genius!” You smile as you type out your message.

13:02 Hi :)

13:02 I finish work at 4 and I haven’t got any plans after that x

You throw your phone down onto the table after sending the texts, and only moments later you get a reply.

13:05 Great! Where do you work, I’ll pick you up x

“What did he say?!” Georgia squealed in excitement.

“He asked where I work, he said he’ll pick me up?”

“Oh my- Y/n! This is so exciting! Tell him- oh, and ask if his brother’s single!”

“He isn’t. He said last night he has a girlfriend- Hey, what happened to Dan?”

“Just a one night thing, baby.” Georgia said, sitting back in her chair, “so are you going to text Jamie back or just stare at the messages all day?”

“What do I say?”

“Tell him where you work, and say you can’t wait to see him!”

“But I look like shit right now- I mean, I’m in my uniform and I haven’t got any makeup on and-”

“Y/n, stop worrying about how you look. Or I swear I will send him the photo, that way you’ll have nothing to worry about,” Georgia laughed. She always threatened you with the photo from Halloween one year, you were dressed as Uncle Ian from the Chipmunks. “Maybe you could ask him to take you home first so you could change?”

“Good idea- but then he’ll know where I live!”

“So?”

“What if he’s a serial killer?”

“Y/n. He has an imdb page. And when I searched him up it was all saying good things. This is a chance of a lifetime, take it!”

You decide Georgia was right.

13:12 The coffee shop down the road from the bar last night…

13:13 But would you mind taking me home first? I need to change out of my work uniform :)

—————————♡—————————

“And it’s the second one on the- here!” You point to your house and Jamie parks outside. “Do you want to come in? I might be a while…”

“Of course.” He smiles, taking his keys out of the car.

When you get inside, you show Jamie around a bit and offer him a drink, which he declines. You tell him you’ll be two minutes as you disappear up to your bedroom. However, that was a lie.

As you looked through your wardrobe, all you could find were jeans that were too tight and skirts that rose up too high at the back. You had a cute pair of joggers, but you didn’t want to look lazy and underdressed. So you decided to stick with the black jeans you wore for work. When you tried to find a top to match, your entire wardrobe was practically on the floor, creating a massive pile of clothes.

You pick out a top randomly, and you were quite happy with it. It was red and had lace detailing at the top, it was also slightly cropped, but that was okay as your jeans were high waisted. You smiled, thinking you looked okay.

As you came down the stairs, Jamie was standing by the door waiting for you. He smiled as you approached him, causing you to furrow your eyebrows.

“What?” You giggle nervously.

“You look beautiful,” he smiles, “okay so I know this isn’t much of a date but-”

“A date?” Your eyes widen, he chuckles and nods his head, “sorry it’s… I don’t think I’ve been on a proper date before.”

“I wouldn’t call this a ‘date’, but I guess I’ll have to take you out somewhere nice one day, show you how it’s done,” he smirks, “what are you doing tomorrow?”

“Nothing, I don’t think I’m busy.” You tell him.

“Wonderful, so I’ll pick you up from here tomorrow at 7, is that okay?”

“Yeah, I guess.” You smile, feeling your face heat up.

“You’re so cute when I make you blush, anyway, let’s go! We don’t want to be late!”

Jamie had taken you to another club that night, his brother Sam had a DJ set there. He had quite a talent, you thought, but you were struggling to enjoy your night. Girls would keep coming up to Jamie and flirting with him, asking for pictures with him, and giving you dirty looks as he placed his hand on your waist. You didn’t understand why Jamie chose you, out of all these other girls he could’ve had, it’s you he chose to put his arm around, you who he was taking on a date tomorrow, you who he would keep complimenting. You didn’t understand it.

When Sam’s part was over, Jamie took you with him to meet him backstage. He was almost as lovely as Jamie, and you got along well with his girlfriend. However, you still couldn’t help but feel out of place. Sam had offered to take everyone out for drinks to celebrate his first gig, and when Jamie had agreed to go you felt bad saying no, so you went along with them.

The night seemed to fly by. Sam would ask you about yourself, and you find out that you have a couple mutual friends. There was never a moment of awkward silence, although everyone had a few drinks so you were all a little more talkative than you would’ve been sober.

Jamie pats the top of your thigh as he stands up, telling you he’s going for a cigarette, his touch was enough to send butterflies to your tummy again. You followed him out and he took your hand as he found the exit.

You admired him as he smoked his cigarette. You quit a few years ago as you believed it was a bad habit and a waste of money, but when he did it he looked like a work of art. He caught you staring as he put it out on the floor, and you pretended to look away. But he knew.

He came closer to you, closer than he had been in the car, and moved a piece of hair from your face.

“What will it take for me to make you see yourself the way I see you?” He asks, his face just inches away from you.

“I don’t think you ever will.” You whisper as he places his hand on your waist.

“I will, darling, I won’t give up until I do.” He says before leaning in, pressing his lips so delicately against yours. Your arms come up to wrap around his neck as you pull him closer towards you, he deepens the kiss by sliding his tongue into your mouth, his hand coming up to cup your cheek.

You only broke the kiss when you had to pull away for air, and you buried your face in his chest as you giggled.

“What?” Jamie chuckled, resting his chin on your head.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“Texting me, taking me places, telling me I’m beautiful, kissing me- I just need to know what’s going on. I’ve been lied to before, Jamie, and it broke me. I can’t possibly go through this again.”

“Because I can’t stop thinking about you. When I saw you last night I had to come and talk to you, and when I saw you sitting by yourself it made me upset, y/n, and then I got to know you, and I still want to know more. I want to know why you lie to yourself, I want to know why you think you’re not good enough for me, I want to know what your favourite colour is, I want to know- I want to know everything about you!”

“But Jamie, you’re drunk. You wouldn’t think so if you weren’t.”

“Then why did I spend all day thinking about you? I-”

“Y/n, Jamie!” Sam’s girlfriend interrupted, barging through the doors, “Sam’s being sick so I guess we’re going to leave. Thanks for coming out tonight, he really appreciated it. And it was wonderful to meet you, y/n! I hope we’ll see you again soon!”

You said your goodbyes and Jamie asked if you wanted to stay a bit longer or go home, so you told him you wanted to go home. He then asked if you wanted him to walk you- as he knew it was only 10 minutes away- or if you’d rather get a taxi. You told him you’d walk, and he insisted on making sure you got back safely.

It’s not that you didn’t like Jamie. He was the most wonderful person you think you’ve ever met. But you believed it didn’t think it made sense, you and him, but when his lips were on yours you thought nothing had ever felt so right. You wished you could let go of your past experiences of relationships and romances, as they caused you nothing but pain. You had an ex who used you for your body, you had another ex who you had only dated for a month because he was dared by one of his friends to date you and ever since then you had not even flirted with any guy. You knew Jamie was different, but you were still afraid.

When you got back to your house, Jamie said he was going to get a taxi to take him back, but you felt bad for what you told him earlier, so you told him not to and invited him in.

“You could stay if you want,” you smile at him as you shut the door behind yourself, “I mean… I have a sofa, or you could have my bed-”

“No, darling, I couldn’t kick you out of your bedroom. The sofa’s perfect, it’ll take me back to my teenage years.” He laughed.

“Well, I’ll be upstairs then, I’m so tired. There’s blankets over there, the kitchen is through there,” you point to where it is, “and the bathroom is there.”

“Thank you, good night darling.”

“Good night, Jamie.” You smile as you walk up the stairs.

As you lie down and try to get some sleep you’re suddenly filled with a great sadness. You felt terrible. Jamie was putting in all this effort, and you were too afraid to let yourself fall again. But then you had an idea.

02:01 Are you still awake?

And in seconds you get a reply.

02:01 Yep. But I thought you said you were tired?

You sigh and text him back

02:02 I was. But it’s too cold up here...

You thanked the alcohol again for your random bursts of confidence. You smiled when you read his reply

02:02 So you want to cuddle

You replied with a smiley face, and in moments you heard a knock on your bedroom door.

“Y/n?” He asked from the other side, “can I come in?”

“Yeah, it isn’t locked.”

As he comes in, you shuffle over, giving him some of your blanket as he lies beside you. You feel his arm come around you and pull you towards him, so your head could rest on his chest.

“I’m so sorry.” You whisper.

“For what, my love?”

“Everything I said earlier. I feel terrible that I can’t trust you. I want to. But… you don't understand, it’s just difficult.”

“I know it’ll take time. Other people have fucked you over before, but I promise you that’s not me, ask anybody. I’m willing to do it, I’ll do whatever it takes to earn your trust. I’ll wait for as long as you need me to,” he rubs your back as he speaks, “and don’t think I’ve forgotten about our date tomorrow!”

#jamie campbell bower #jamie bower #jamie bower x reader #jamie campbell bower x reader #jamie you are the love of my life.

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barricadescon · 1 year

Video

“Cosette is the central figure around which the men in the show are organized”

Feminist Perspectives on Les Miserables by Professor Stacy Wolf, Leila Abou-Jaoude (featured here), Paige Allen, Molly Bremer, and Elliot Lee for Barricades: A Les Mis Convention 2022

Transcription:

[sung] Just a whisper away waiting for me. Does he know I’m alive, do I know if he’s real? Did he see what I saw, does he feel what I feel?

[spoken] And so, in that excerpt, we hear that we're no longer in D major. We're actually - we move to F. And so F is a good ways away from D major. As you can see the little picture that just popped up on screen, it has one B flat, whereas D major has two sharps, F sharp and C sharp.

And so, her music, therefore, seems to suggest that while she is comfortable in her secure situation, she also finds it incredibly stifling, and we hear her comfort and security sound in the song's major key and relative confidence. However, the music mirrors her desire to experience what lies beyond Valjean's garden, as it expands upwards and outwards and resists strict even rhythms and a central total center. Now, while we're kind of talking about F major, I think it's also worth noting that F major is the same key that Cosette travels to when fantasizing in “Castle on a Cloud.” She sings an F major in the section that starts:

[sung] There was a lady all in white…

[spoken] That's all in F major that little B-section there. And this harmonic similarity connects kind of the young traumatized Cosette to her adult self. So, the music arguably also identifies Cosette as a singular character. This is a standalone song, which means we haven't previously heard this musical material, and in a musical that's constantly recycling melodies and drawing connections between characters as they share musical material, I think this is pretty significant. And I believe it asks us to reconsider Cosette’s relationships, and so Cosette is the central figure around which the men in the show are organized. While she is reliant on the protection of Valjean though, and Marius’ affections, she's also arguably what motivates them. Valjean makes it his mission to protect her. And Marius’ decision to fight at the barricades, his willingness to live or to die, are all based on whether or not he thinks Cosette will remember him. So in summary, in this presentation, I've proposed how we could read “In My Life” as a piece that nuances Cosette’s character.

To conclude, I'd like to close with a question: does Cosette's music allow her autonomy that her situation otherwise forbids?

This video is from a series of excerpts shared with the permission of presenters from Barricades 2022. If you have an idea for programming for Barricades 2023, please submit it on our website. Submissions for both academic and fan track programming close February 15.

#les mis #les miserables #les mis con #barricades #barricades con #cosette

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daryldixonsdoormat · 2 years

Text

worst fears

The walking Dead characters worst fears

Daryl Dixon: Fully committing to someone or something. Him and Merle usually didn't stay in one place. They were always on the move running away from their problems are find a place to make more. Early on Daryl really only thought that no one could love him the way Merle did. I mean they were siblings by blood and nothing could break that shared bond or love. But when you waltz into his life he didn't know what to think. When you approached him at the camp thanking him for going out and risking his life for the group to eat he scoffed at you thinking it was some kind of trick. Trusting people wasn't something that Daryl did easily hence the reaction. Eventually though (the prison) Daryl started to talk to you more than anyone else, he started caring for you more than anyone else. And that Was Daryl Dixon's worst fear being devoted to you means he was constantly worried about your well being non-stop. He committed to making sure you're alive and safe as possible. There was another aspect to the relationship it wasn't until Alexandria that it really started to worry him. What if you weren't as committed? So as crazy as it sounds he talks about it with you and ties the knot being married to his one true love. He fully committed to you in every aspect now much like you are to him. Walls meant safety. Daryl Dixon was always dealt the worst hand.

“this is it. keep living for me Daryl”

he shakily answers back, “a life without you ain't worth living”.

Rick Grimes: Losing his sense of Humanity. There has been some moments where Rick could be considered “inhumane” but I don’t think he would agree at all. Rick came into the camp with a seemingly level head and his plan was to find his family and continue living. Rick and Lori have been drifting apart even before the apocalypse so finding out the ‘affair’ was the end of their relationship. Whos gonna blame Rick for eventually loving someone else. His worst fear is losing his humanity and ultimately that is a common occurrence. But this fear triples when he has another person to protect from the world and maybe even himself one day. It scares him seeing you be scared of him (if that makes sense). Multiple events lead up to his ‘snap’ when he turned down Tyrese and his group at the prison it really made him question himself. After everything he has seen reaching Alexandria it makes it easier to know that he doesn't need to be head of command anymore. If Rick doesn't have to make the big decisions then his Humanity should still be intact. Then negan kills of his love when rosita tried to kill him. In your last moments he talks about the gruesome ways of killing Negan and all his subjects until you bring up his worst fear.

“Don’t lose your humanity, love. Who am I kidding? I know you wont”

“I promise you with everything that I have. I will never lose my humanity”. That promise held him together.

Glenn Rhee: Not being quick enough. During the apocalypse he was constantly told he was the quickest and the stealthiest. And it has forever sense been engraved into his mind. He was lonely until he met you, of course he was still his normal shy and introverted self. But that didn’t stop his heart from throbbing when he seen you doing something as simple as sitting by the fire. He wants to be close to you at all times for his own comfort and to make sure your always in arms reach. Glenn took pride in his skills and tried to have fun with it when he could. But while the group was on the move for months on end he because weary of what may have changed physically. If he isn't confident in himself how will he ever protect you? After being at the prison for a considerable amount of time he was anxious of course a roof was a breath of fresh of air. But what if the time comes where he could save you because he wasn't fit enough or physically prepared. Of course that time does come and its breaks him. You were caught off guard and a walker snuck up on you from behind biting your shoulder. He was too late, so close to saving you but the bite mark proved he wasn't fast enough.

“Glenn have I ever told you, how pretty you look when you run?”

he will never forgive himself for not being fast enough to save you.

Notes: I can do a Part 2 with more characters if it is requested I just dont know what other characters. I write for nearly all characters and women!

#glenn rhee x reader #glenn rhee x you #glenn rhee x y/n #daryl x you #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x you #rick grimes imagine #rick grimes x y/n #glenn rhee #daryl dixon #Rick Grimes

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slayerchick303 · 10 months

Text

QAF characters and how much I trust them

Emmett Honeycutt- My one true love! I'd trust him with the keys to my entire life. Emmett is who I aspire to be as a person. Not in like his career, love life, or anything. I'd just love to be as kind, confident, and pure of a human as he is. That being said, I think he's too optimistic to give any truly sound relationship advice (whether it be towards a friend, significant other, or family). But I'm just a cynic. On that note!----

Brian Kinney- I love Brian, and we have a lot in common. That is possibly why I give him zero trust. Brian would absolutely leave you stranded at an airport because he forgot to pick you up. At best, he'd be incredibly late because he got... diverted. I don't think he'd be as bad after season 5, but he's still not remotely reliable. (When I say I'm like him, it's not in this way! I'm not a flake like him). If he eventually showed up to your party, you could trust him to stay for about 5 minutes unless it was his kind of party. He'll show up to your anniversary gathering drunk with 2 random leather daddies he met at the bar. That being said, you can always trust him to liven a dead event by spiking the punch. He'd do that until a better offer came along, that is.

Justin Taylor- All the trust! He might be slightly late and have no food in his refrigerator when you come over, but he will never leave you in a lurch. He'll give you honest feedback and help you see reason before you do something stupid. And if he thinks something you believe in is worth doing, he'll stand at your side and help... even if it means plastering up posters all night when he has work in the morning. He'll tell you when your significant other sucks and that you should break up with them.

Michael Novotny- If you'd asked me in season 1, I would have given him so much trust. After season 5, however, my opinion changed. He would absolutely get preoccupied with his family and not be able to help you. He'd forget to call to cancel plans, too. As much as Michael is less of a doormat in season 5, I would still worry he wouldn't give me honest feedback. Plus, his whole judgemental streak was not cool. Those are heavy cons brought up in season 5, but I like to think he gets his head back on right, and he starts being a good friend and better person again.

Ted Schmidt- Ted is amazing in a crisis. He's the person you call at 3 AM when your life has fallen apart. He'll pick you up, help you save whatever you can, and draw up a ten point plan on how things are going to be okay by the time you're going to sleep on his couch. He'll assist you with phone calls and forms. Ultimate trust! He's fun at parties if you're looking for the chill area. He's much better after his self-esteem glow up in season 5. I couldn't hang with season 1 Ted. I'm already the -1,000 self-image person in the group. Granted, I have legitimate reason to be that way when Ted absolutely does not. That being said, he's another person who can't be objective with relationship advice. Most especially romantic advice. Both his and Brian's political opinions are straight-up garbage.

Melanie Marcus- She's another person I'd give the keys to my life to! If ever I needed help, I'd call her. I'd probably call Teddy first because he has less going on in his life, but Melanie would be my second call. She's competent in virtually everything but home renovation. She'll be honest with and will support you. She'll represent you pro-bono if you ever get into legal trouble. She'll rage with you at town halls to make sure everyone is protected and safe under the law. She'll plan events to bolster the community. She's even fun at parties. She earns all of the trust! The only thing I worry about is her absolute refusal to not go 160 miles per hour all the time. The woman needs to learn when to take a break. She has a vice grip desire to control things, but I'm pretty laissez-faire about everything, so I'd be glad not to have to make decisions.

Lindsay Peterson- While she shares many of the same qualities as Melanie, I trust her less. For one, she's the queen of getting invested in something when all prior experience has told her it's never going to happen (i.e. that her parents will love her unconditionally). Her priority is family, which is 100% valid. But unlike Mikey, if she or Mel were going to have to leave you high and dry, she'd at least call you. Most likely, she'd find someone else to make sure you were covered if neither she nor Mel could be there for you. She is a little prudish. She's often focused on propriety and the approval of others, so that's not great. Especially since I'm a people pleaser to begin with, so that's like adding gasoline to a fire. She would give sound relationship advice, though I think she's too forgiving of bad behavior *cough* Brian *cough*

Ben Bruckner- He's obviously very trustworthy and would do everything possible to help a friend. However, he does get tunnel vision and is primarily focused on family and work. At least he'd call if he had to cancel on you. That being said, I feel like his relationship advice would either be too nebulous or encourage you to just forget things and move on. He's also a Debbie Downer if you achieve something he aspires to. So, if you need a cheering section, I wouldn't trust Ben fully.

Debbie Novotny- If you need a cheering section, she's the woman to call. She'll come with literal bells on and bring half the diner with her. She would try (and absolutely fail) to give worthwhile advice. However, she pries, and she puts her nose in everyone's business. She'd force you to listen to unsolicited advice and demand to know personal details about you whilst spilling hers that you don't want to hear. That being said, she'd give you the shirt off her back and let you stay at her place indefinitely, provided you meet certain rules. She'd be the mother every person deserves (and I certainly wish I had), minus the occasional bout of horrible hypocrisy.

The top people in my trust list are Ted, Melanie, Justin, and Emmett. Who are yours? Tag me if you do this!

Inspired by @buffy--the--vampire--slayer 's post.

#queer as folk 2000 #queer as folk us #queer as folk #qaf #qafamily #qaf 2000 #qaf us #brian kinney #justin taylor #michael novotny #emmett honeycutt #ted schmidt #melanie marcus #lindsay peterson #debbie novotny #ben bruckner

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fernforest16 · 2 years

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I just spent three weeks in the foreign country I’ve been learning the language of for three years, that I was prepared to love entirely and feel totally at home and learn to be independent in. I was miserable there. Lonely, bored, scared, unmotivated, isolated and self-isolating, trapped. My disordered eating thoughts and habits made an impressive comeback. I had good days, sure, but I felt like I had no control. Every moment was laced with the anxiousness. I barely ever made decisions for myself.

I’ve been in a different foreign country for three days. I don’t know the language, but I get by. I have family that I trust there, and after five years of being a literal ocean apart, they know me better than my parents. They’ve encouraged me to be aware snd independent, to explore new places and ideas with logical caution. I danced-really danced, not a ballet recital or musical-in public for the first time ever last night. I danced salsa to cuban music with strangers that night, and tangoed to a serbian band next. I danced with middle-aged women, young men, old men, and the sweetest little kids. And I danced alone. And I loved it all, I loved life, I loved myself. When I got home(!) and washed my face, as I looked in the mirror my pupils dilated. And it sounds like a dream, but people loved me too. They told me their names, asked who I was both to my face and to the rest of the crowd at the concerts, invited me to other events, thanked me, hugged me, complimented me, trusted me with their children, trusted me with themselves, said that I was full of life, and there was one man who spoke no english that just Looked at me like a very small child does sometimes, just in wonder and shyness and overwhelmed awe. And the woman he was with translated for me and said he thought I danced beautifully. And I cook what I want to eat and delight my grandparents, and I really enjoy food and eating again. I don’t touch my phone for more than twenty minutes or so a day-there’s no need. I make decisions with confidence and quickness. I learn to be less stupid. Every day feels like a month in the loveliest way, full of movement and family and art and food and books and all the most beautiful things life has to offer, but it all is just love. My heart is open and I can’t say it’s full-I think it would fit the world in it if I tried—oh wait!!! I already have!!! I already did!!! And I can’t say tomorrow will be so perfect, but I can carry this joy, this love for life and the will that comes with it, give it out with my voice and touch, and the more I let flow, the more I’ll have. I think I could be classified as a renewable energy plant. And I refuse to forget how I feel right now and have for the last tiny sliver of my life because I feel good and I feel strong and I feel alive and that is well worth remembering.

#It’s been a sec #Love :)#Why did no one tell me (i can dance)#My parents are so fucked when I get home #They have no chance #I love them but i am a real live human of my own so sorry I’m definitely getting more piercings #….i still miss my five of wands and my siblings and my sapphic platonic crystal gf and my cousins and my cryptid and my lydia #But I’ll see them soon :)

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meditationsbyalma · 1 year

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What determines one’s value?

When I was 12, I had a best friend with whom I used to spend all my time at school. He used to come over to my place; my parents knew him, and I believe even our parents knew each other. Two years went by, and our friendship faded. One day, my mom asked me about them and why we were not that close to each other anymore. My response was that I tried to keep the friendship going; I even once called them out and blamed them for not calling me or wanting to spend time with me, but it did not work. My mom said something that I would never forget: "Never blame anyone for not giving you attention. " See, some valuable states, such as attention, love, or respect, are never asked for but rather given upon recognition from the other party that you are deserving of them. "Blaming the other part for not giving you attention would only drive them further away."

simple but mind-blowing for me at the time.

You often hear the expression, "If you do not love yourself, it is impossible for you to love others or for them to love you." In business, you also often hear the expression "set a high value for your services, or else the market would set low ones for you." For guys who are struggling to attract the opposite sex, if they are ever lucky to hear healthy advice about approaching such insecurity, it would sound something like, "If you respect yourself, women will respect you." For ladies, it would sound more like, "Set yourself high standards and don’t take less than what you deserve."

What’s mutual between all expressions is:

Your awareness and recognition of your own value will determine the manner in which your environment is going to interact with you. In other words, the way you perceive yourself will determine how others perceive you. In some cases, that does not work, but that’s only if your perception of yourself is built on imaginary projections of your hierarchical status in that environment. For example, you cannot offer a shitty service in a very competitive market and decide to charge a high fee for that service; that decision would have no justification in the eyes of the "demand", and they would trade you for someone else.

Now be careful; this might sound like I’m saying to raise your value independently from what others would evaluate your value to be. But if you allow other people’s opinions and impressions of you to dictate your actions and impression of yourself, you will always be trapped by their judgement.

Your value is not a matter of discussion or negotiation with the world. If you look around for signals to feel that you are not enough, you will always find them. If you look around for signals to feel that you are not cared for or loved, you will always find them as well. Learn to assess your own value independently of your external conditions. Your value does not diminish if you are not in a relationship, if your partner cheats on you, if you do not get that job, or if your parents are not proud of you. Learn to have that conversation with yourself before you engage with the world.

As we all know, self-worth and self-esteem are delicate topics. One’s self-esteem determines the way they carry themselves, the way they approach reality, and their perspective on life events. Feeling confident and mentally resilient results in creating an approach of mentorship towards life; it throws struggles your way and bends your reality over, but your perspective narrates that all of those events are for the sake of making you stronger, more capable, and more competent in life. Contrarily, to feel doubtful about your capabilities, filled with shame and envy, results in creating an attitude of victimhood towards life: every "negative" event is a conspiracy against you; the whole world revolves around YOU. Everyone is blessed and "lucky," but luck would never take your side!

On the occasion of losing perspective on what makes you valuable, where should you get your sense of value from?

In this question resides all the malevolence and trickery the self (more precisely, the mind) could ever create. The question is often laid out in variant ways:

I feel that my heart has been closed, and I have been incapable of engaging with people romantically. How do I open my heart?

I have been feeling consumed, and I believe that I am on the edge of depression. I wonder what I could do or where I could get back to my sense of happiness.

THE WAY WE ASK THE QUESTION DETERMINES THE WAY OUR MIND IS GOING TO APPROACH THE "PROBLEM"!

Your mind processes the environment using the five sensors. Our language is limited, especially when expressing emotions. When you say, "My heart has been closed, you mean I have been incapable of feeling romantic connection with others. No matter how attractive the potential partner with whom I might cross paths in life is, I cannot allow the chance of building emotions with them, even though I want to. The problem is that closed is what we use to describe a space, as if your heart is a space that fills people that you love inside or a space that processes feelings, which is completely not true (I will definitely write an entire blog on this one). As soon as you use the word "closed" , your mind tricks you into believing that you need something to open it with, like a key! And that’s how you believe that the solution to your "problem" is somewhere, not within you but within your environment, for you to find.

The same applies to happiness (I will write a blog on this one too!). We have all been told that happiness is not attained by what we acquire. When you ask, "Where could I get back to my sense of happiness ", your mind projects happiness as a physical item that could be found somewhere in the environment, outside of you, which is also definitely not the case.

Projecting the same principle on the topic of value, when you ask " where should you get your sense of value from? ", the mind approaches the topic of value with the five sensory approach, which leads to an endless vicious circle of search and wonder when the answer is already simple: get to know who you are, your nature, and the goal behind your being, so that the occasion of losing perspective of what makes you valuable would never occur. Once again:

Learn to have that conversation with yourself before you engage with the world.

We are all valuable, but I guess the short answer to "What determines one’s value?", is their awareness and deep knowledge of their personality and soul. and how one is constantly trying to manifest itself through the other.

Yassine Said.

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theaustinrockwell · 1 year

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What is the Thorn in My Soul?

There is something about me that causes people to push me away, but I do not know what it is. In my first post, I talked about having all these desirable traits that people say they want in a partner, especially traits that take work and a healthy self awareness to develop, and yet I have never been in a real relationship. I have had situationships but nothing more. Whenever I try to pursue a relationship, people push me away and (verbally) violently so. This is me theorizing why the hell that might be.

The first thought is the masculinity question. Perhaps I am not masculine enough? I may have the decorations of masculinity, like an offroad SUV, a motorcycle, a beard, a Gen Z/millennial "mature skater/part-time lumberjack" wardrobe, and a love of dark beer, but maybe my core deep down is not masculine enough. Sisyphus 55 on Youtube recently talked about whether or not masculinity is merely an aesthetic of flannel and spaghetti westerns rather than a true collection of behaviors and traits. His answer was not clear to me, though he did make a good point that when the public is asked "What makes a good man?" the answers end up being a description of traits that make up a good person of any gender.

And yet there is something to masculinity that feels tangible. It is hard to nail down with the limits of human language, and yet we all have a picture of "masculinity" in our heads that revolves around overlapping archetypes. Just because it is hard to define does not mean it is meaningless or nonexistent. Identifying masculinity is like what Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart said about identifying porn vs. regular nudity: "I know it when I see it."

If you put a gun to my head and made me guess correctly, I'd guess that I am not masculine enough. Yes, I have the aesthetics, but there is still a timidity, agreeableness, and overall apologetic demeanor to me, like I'm sorry to exist. I don't make space for myself physically, socially, and philosophically the way other men do. However, I have realized lately that I have this demeanor merely because I am so confused at why people reject me. It is a cycle. I am "myself," then people reject me, then I resolve to improve and in that improvement I whittle away and polish whatever people seem to hate. What is left is a tiny lumberjack looking dude with resting bitch face and a motorcycle who opens his mouth and somehow sounds like a naive little cherub trying to get everybody to sing Kumbaya. This supposedly dynamic existence earns me the "I've never met anybody like you" phrase from my intoxicated friends, as well as the "I only see you as a friend" response from women somehow.

So what if I tried to be more masculine in personality? What does that look like? I will actually leave that question to be pondered and answered in another post, since a second potential thorn in my self is worth discussing, and is actually related to this one. Answering it may first may lead to a better answer to the masculinity question anyway.

Am I unattractive, because I always second guess myself? Is it a lack of confidence? In the men I see who are attractive to women, they are confident about most or all of the things that they do, even if they are insanely wrong. I don't quite have the same mindset as them. If I'm unsure of something, I will make it known. If there are a bunch of equally good decisions to be made or opinions to be heard, I will consider each one. When women look at me, maybe they see this holistic approach as a lack of resolve or drive or competence? Maybe they think when push comes to shove in social conflicts between me and others that I will give too easily? I may train martial arts, but what does that mean if I can't even defend an opinion? They're just words? How does that look?

How can a man who can't defend his own opinions provide for his significant other? Is my ambitious demeanor not discounted in others' eyes by the fact I back down to idiots in every day conversation? For example, if I say I want to be a clinical psychologist and I get into an argument with another student in class that they are wrong about AND I can cite the fucking publication that says they're wrong YET I back down, then what does that say about me? How does that "show" ambition or confidence? Or a dedication to the "truth" that I claim to have? What it actually is is conflict avoidance. Importantly, it is possible to get stuck in an argument with a true idiot who will defend their stupidity until they fucking die. It is smart to know when to quit with these people. However, my tendency to back down so quickly in most arguments, even when I have better data than anybody else in the room, comes off as weak. I get that that is unattractive and counteracts some of my other displays of or claims to self confidence.

What may have gotten me here, to conflict avoidance, is that when I have been convinced of being right before, I have been pretty harsh about it. When I am mad that somebody isn't listening to me and I know I am right, thanks to data and evidence, I have shoved people noses in it, like shoving a dog's nose near their own poop when they accidentally go in the house. That is rude and unnecessary in 99% of cases, unless the person is an arrogant, loud idiot on Twitter and deserves an equally loud public shaming. In my attempt to not be that anymore though, I have accidentally released all care about arguments and have become like a spineless being. I'm just floating in the ocean and letting everybody else make waves while I deal with it. The better way to deal with this would be a graded defense. I could defend myself and what I think is correct to varying degrees according to how important a topic or disagreement is. Then if somebody is trying to take me for a ride, I can use my charisma and deflection to get them to fuck off. This will be tough to do and I'm probably going to accidentally be mean to people who don't deserve it, but that is what apologies are for.

On that note, another thing I am working on that also ties into the subject of masculinity is the idea of "Shoot first, ask questions later." Put more nicely that is, "Act first, then readjust after." That seems to be the masculine way of doing things. I truly think people favor seeing that mindset in others. Being able to make decisions is a valuable skill. Leadership is valuable. Leaders also have to work with incomplete information but life has to go on anyway. The confidence to tell everybody what the next step is and say it with conviction is priceless. Jocko Willink mentioned on his podcast that even as a brand new SEAL in his platoon he was praised for making calm, confident decisions under high pressure. That was probably tough to do in a group of dudes whose careers revolve around a strick pecking order and violence. Confidence seems like a magic currency that we buy (or loan) people's favor with. If you make a confident bet and you're right, people love you. If there is absolutely nothing behind the confidence, you're found out to be a con man and maybe even compulsive liar or a psychopath. Maybe confidence is my problem? I have all these ideas and ambitions and truths to share but I am not showing them or standing up for them. I am showing people that my opinions are not worth much and they are simply believing me.

What does confidence look like? How about charismatic confidence? I want a kind of confidence that lifts others up but doesn't allow for my boundaries to be stepped on. When people challenge me, I want to confidently respond, "Yes, this is what I stand for!" I don't want to hurt people while I do it, but I don't want to make room for every single person's every feeling. That is my task for now, to explore standing up for myself and my well-researched plans and opinions and to find out how to do it without hurting people. There's no point in being CoNfIdEnT if I end up making the world a worse place.

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yoon-kooks · 2 years

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We got a Pawblem | MYG

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Enemies to Lovers, Fluff

Summary: It’s love at first sight when you waltz through those shelter doors and spot the most handsome tuxedo cat you’ve ever seen. The only problem is that he’s currently purring in the gentle embrace of a jerk named Min Yoongi who can’t possibly want that cat more than you.

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: This fic radiates big cat person energy.

A/N: It's been a while but it feels good to actually write something instead of just outlining a plot.

You never believed in love at first sight. You could never get behind the idea that people can fall for what they see without knowing the other person’s full story. Because when you really get to know someone, it’ll change your perspective for better or worse. In your case, it’s usually the latter.

And unfortunately for you, your single self has been rather bored lately. Your typical day goes like this: Wake up, eat, go to class, eat, study, eat, sleep. You know it’s sad when an occasional shift at your part-time job is the highlight of your week.

Sometimes you just want someone to do things with. You aren’t asking for much either. For example, it’d be nice to have someone who’d watch some Netflix with you, someone who’s curious about trying new things, and someone you could totally brag about to your friends. Maybe that would make you less of a boring human being.

That’s it. You know what you need in your life.

A cat.

And now you stand, confident as ever, in front of your local animal shelter. To be clear, it isn’t as spontaneous of a decision as it sounds. You’ve been wanting a fluffy, purring creature for as long as you can remember. After spending the past few years getting your shit together, you’re finally at a place in your life where you can fully commit to the responsibilities that come with having a cat.

Up until this point, you’d been actively avoiding the shelter because it was the ultimate place of temptation. You knew that as soon as you walked through those doors, you’d be coming out with a new friend. Because who could resist the urge to pick up a cat and hug it when it starts climbing up your leg?

When you enter the building and approach the adoption area, the first thing you observe is that it’s the complete opposite of a dating app. With dating apps, there always seems to be no good options and plenty of catfish. Here, there are only good options and cats instead of catfish. This is a world you can appreciate.

To make things even better, you’ve come at a good time. There aren’t many other visitors, which means you can spend more time playing with the cats to figure out which one is the best fit for you. While you scan the room for a staff member to get you started, someone catches your eye.

He’s handsome with a calm demeanor. When he catches your gaze on him, his gorgeous dark eyes don’t look away either. Surely he wants you to approach him and say hi. Maybe he’s the shy type.

While you’d approach him in a perfect world, there’s one thing holding you back. The man carrying this handsome tuxedo cat looks like he might be interested in adopting your soulmate. You politely observe from afar as the man strokes the kitty between the ears and chats with a staff member. You don’t know what it is, but there’s something about the man that you don’t like. Sure, he’s kind of good-looking, and the cat does seem to be responding well to the gentle caresses of his fingers. But there’s no way this rando is a better fit for that cat than you.

“I’ll be with you in just a second.” It takes you a second to realize those words were directed at you from the posse of the tuxedo cat, the jerkface, and “Jimin,” according to the staff member’s badge. Jimin nods politely in your direction, the cat gives you a sleepy blink, and the jerkface eyes you up and down. One of these three is definitely judging your worth right now, and if you had to guess, it isn’t Jimin or the cat.

You fully intended on approaching the situation with grace, but Jerkface just made it personal. He definitely thinks he’s the better cat owner than you. You can feel it.

“Actually, if this handsome guy isn’t already taken,” you say, pointing at the cat very clearly in the man’s arms, “I’m interested.”

“Sorry, I’m not interested,” the man says with a smirk. “Oh, you were talking about the cat.”

You feel your face burn up, and all you want to do is hide it the way the cat’s nose is tucked into the man’s elbow. Except you don’t really want your face anywhere near that man.

“Yoongi, please stop teasing this visitor.” Jimin waves the jerk off and turns to you. “Sorry, I promise he’s not always like this. Just ignore him.”

Great. This has somehow turned into a competition against a regular who’s on a first-name basis with Jimin. Surely a familiar face will have first dibs over a first-timer like yourself. It’s doomed.

“What makes you want this specific cat? What’s wrong with all of the other cats?” Yoongi cocks his head, waiting to see how you’ll bounce back.

“Nothing’s wrong with the other cats. I just need to start somewhere, and this is where our friendly staff member Jimin happens to be.” You smile back. You don’t mean to brag, but passive-aggressive language is kind of your thing.

“It’s also where I happen to be, Sweetheart,” Yoongi says as the cat adjusts itself and rests its chin on his shoulder. “Are you trying to steal this cat away from me? You haven’t even played with him yet.”

“Maybe I’d be able to play with him if you kindly handed him over.”

“He doesn’t want to play with you.”

“What are you? A cat whisperer?”

“Maybe.”

You blink at Yoongi. He can’t be serious. You’re just here to rescue a poor cat from this man. You haven’t done anything wrong, and yet he’s giving you such a hard time.

It’s fine, though, because you have a new strategy. You’ll wait it out until Yoongi gets bored of tormenting you, lets go of the cat, and goes home. There’s no way he’ll actually walk away with the cat, right? He doesn’t seem like the type of guy who can commit anyway.

“Hey Jimin, can I take a look at the other cats until that person is done with the tuxedo cat?” you ask.

You build up the courage to approach “that person” and pet the cat sleeping peacefully in his arms. You’re surprised Yoongi doesn’t pull back and say something dumb like, “Stop, you’ll wake the baby!” Rather than judging your actions, he focuses on how the cat nudges against the back of your hand. That’s a good sign according to one of the many cat blogs you follow.

“Sure thing.” Jimin pulls out his keys and motions for you to follow him.

Before you go, you bring your face down to the cat and watch its nose sniff your cheek. You melt inside, resisting the urge to squeal because you don’t want to lose your chill around Yoongi. Planting a soft kiss on top of the cat’s head, you say, “See you later, cutie.”

You pop back up and start heading over to where Jimin is.

“See ya.” It’s Yoongi’s voice, and you’re ashamed you can already recognize it by sound alone.

“Sorry, you’re not the cutie I was referring to,” you say to Yoongi without turning around. You hate to admit it, but you smile a tiny bit when you hear him chuckle in response to your savage comeback.

While Yoongi’s presence at the shelter is kind of annoying, you aren’t mad at the fact that there are plenty of other cats to take a look at. Some cats are more interested in you than others, but you’re hopeful that one of them will be a great match, whether it’s the tuxedo cat or not.

“Again, I apologize about earlier,” Jimin says as you pick up a two-year-old light gray tabby. “It’s no excuse for Yoongi, but I promise you it’s nothing personal. The guy doesn’t really have a filter, and it can come across a certain way…”

“No worries,” you laugh it off. It takes more than a petty boy to ruin your mood anyway. “Is he a friend of yours, or does he just come in a lot to play with the cats?”

“We met a few years back when he first started volunteering here,” Jimin smiles. “He quit around a year ago, though.”

“Really?” Your eyes are as big as the tabby’s when it hears your high-pitched squeak. “What’s the tea on that?”

“He fell in love,” Jimin says, almost in a whisper. He glances over to Yoongi on the far end of the large room. “With someone here. So you can see where there might be an issue.” He gives you a nod and waits for you to reciprocate the gesture in understanding.

“Like a forbidden love?” You’re so absorbed in the gossip that you don’t even notice the tabby nibbling at your thumb.

“Exactly,” Jimin sighs. “It’s a shame because he said it was love at first sight.”

“No way. He didn’t pursue it after he quit?” You and the tabby look at each other as if it’s the most dramatic piece of information you’ve ever heard.

Jimin shakes his head. “I don’t really know his reasons, but it is what it is.”

“Is that someone still here?” You look around for whoever was powerful enough to melt that cold man’s heart.

“Yeah,” Jimin nods. “It’s funny Yoongi’s here all the time, but he can never bring himself to commit.”

Ah, commitment issues. You definitely sniffed that one out.

Not too long after, a shadow looms over you. “You wanna hold this cat for a sec?”

You spin around to what appears to be Yoongi handing over the cat as a peace offering. Jimin collects the tabby from you and returns it to the kitty playground. As soon as your arms are free, Yoongi quickly but carefully hands the purring tuxedo cat off to you.

“Thanks, my arms were getting sore.” Yoongi stretches out his arms and shakes them out for a good ten seconds. “I can take him back now.”

“It’s okay, I’ll hold onto him for a bit. I think you need to stretch a little longer. That’s what happens when you get old.” Your eyes unintentionally wander from his toned pale arms to his handsome face. He couldn’t be more than a few years older than you. There’s no way he’d actually get tired from holding a seven-pound cat.

The cat also decides it’s a good time to stretch its limbs. It extends its hind legs first, and then its front paws reach up for your shoulder. He settles on an over-the-should position and resumes his nap. You sway yourself back and forth as if you’re rocking a human baby to sleep.

Yoongi watches the cat in silence until it’s back to being deep in the sleep cycle. “Do you still like this one more than the others?”

You nod and say, “I can see why you’re so attached to him.” The purring against your chest is therapeutic enough to ease the tension between you and the boy.

“I can’t believe no one’s adopted him after all this time,” he sighs. You swear you saw the man pout for just a split second.

“Wait, how long has he been at this shelter?”

“A little over a year.”

Your mouth forms a big O. “If I had visited this place a year ago, I definitely would’ve scooped this one up.”

“Why didn’t you?” For the first time, it seems like Yoongi’s attention is on you more than the cat.

“Life,” you shrug and deflect the question back to him. “Why didn’t you?”

“Life,” he nods.

There’s a brief moment of mutual silence.

“Jimin told me you used to volunteer here.”

“I did.”

“He said you quit a year ago.”

“I did.”

“So you really fell in love with someone here?” You cover your mouth with your hand, but that can’t hide how wide your eyes are. “Someone you couldn’t commit to?”

“What?” Yoongi looks puzzled. He glances around the room for his gossiping buddy, but he’s nowhere in sight.

“Jimin said you told him it was love at first sight,” you say with total confidence, as if, for just a moment, you believed in such a silly romantic concept.

That specific bit of information seems to get the wheels turning in Yoongi’s head. He chuckles to himself. “Oh. That.”

“What? Tell me.” The cat’s ears perk up when it hears the excitement in your voice.

“It’s nothing,” Yoongi waves off the conversation. “Anyway, if you’re set on adopting this one, you should call Jimin over so you can fill out the paperwork.”

“You’re letting me have him?” Not that it was Yoongi’s cat to begin with.

“I don’t see why not.”

“Weren’t you interested in adopting him too?” You’re excited to shower your new cat with affection, but it doesn’t exactly feel great to know that someone else has to suffer the loss.

He shakes his head, but you’re not 100% convinced. “Just bring him in to see me every once in a while.”

“How will I know when you’re here?” Maybe that’s a stupid question. “Or are you always here?”

“Just make an appointment,” he mumbles. An appointment? Is that the word they use for “date” in old people language?

“How about I just give you my number?” You hold out your hand for Yoongi’s phone. He hands it over to you without much resistance. “Let me know whenever you miss me and my cat.”

You enter your name with a cat emoji next to it and send yourself a text to complete the exchange. Once you return the boy’s phone, you glance at him. You might not have had the best first impression of him, but maybe he isn’t half bad after all.

“I’ll see you, Yoongi,” you smile.

“See ya, Sweetheart.” You assume he’s talking to the cat.

As you fill out the paperwork in the office, you can’t seem to keep Yoongi out of your head. Specifically that pout you swore you saw. “Hey Jimin?”

“Yes?”

“Yoongi said I should make an appointment with him,” you say. “Is that code for him asking me out on a date? Or am I reading too much into it?”

Jimin’s face goes from shocked to smiley. “Yoongi is one of the veterinarians who come to this shelter to check up on our residents.”

Oh god. Your jaw drops. Who would’ve thought that guy was a doctor? “So he meant like an actual appointment?”

“Yes, we like to set up a few follow-up appointments with recently adopted pets to make sure everything looks good,” Jimin says. “Speaking of that, I’ll go ahead and schedule one for you with Dr. Min—”

“But I gave him my number and told him to let me know whenever he misses the cat,” you say as you sign your name at the bottom of the form. You hope they don’t think it’s a forged signature from how sloppy it’s turned out in your distraught state. “Like, I’m actually an idiot, Jimin.”

“You’re not an idiot, Y/N. I’m sure Yoongi would love to see his favorite cat outside of work.” He collects your paperwork and gives you a reassuring smile. “Perhaps we’ll be seeing less of him here now that he can play with the cat elsewhere.”

“I still don’t understand why that guy didn’t adopt the cat himself if he loved him so much…” You sound like you’re complaining, but it’s just something that bothers you. “I’m sure he’d take good care of our little tuxedo friend.”

“You have to ask him about it if you’re really curious,” Jimin shrugs. “He’s free for the rest of the evening, in case you want to set up something—an appointment, date, or whatever you want to call it.”

“I don’t know…” You gather up your stuff and lift the cat carrier. “I came to this shelter looking for someone I could watch Netflix with—a cat, not a boyfriend. And if I were indeed looking for a boyfriend, I’d probably just use a dating app, yeah?”

Jimin nods his head slowly and looks at you as if your logic is a little off. “Yeah, but you won’t find a guy like Yoongi on a dating app. It’s a personality trait, I think.”

Your cat looks up at your from inside the carrier. If this sweet little cat adores Yoongi, the boy must be doing something right. And surely the cat blog wasn’t lying when it said you could always trust a cat’s judgment.

You get up to leave the office but stop at the doorway. “Is he still here?”

Jimin glances up at the clock and reaches for his phone. “Not sure, but I can call—”

“It’s alright, I already bothered y’all enough today,” you chuckle. “I’ll… message him later or something.”

“Miss me already, huh?” You don’t know where the voice came from but you know who it belongs to. After scanning the area outside the office, you spot Yoongi sitting at the bench closest to the exit.

“Were you just waiting out here like a bum?” you ask.

“I was waiting for it to be official.” He nods at your cat. “Otherwise he was about to become part of the Min household.”

“I think he would’ve liked it there.” You lift the carrier to eye level and catch your cat’s gaze. “Right?” He meows at you and then at Yoongi who fails to hide his smile. Even a guy like Yoongi can’t resist the charm of a cat. The cat blogs are right—cats are truly powerful beings.

“Maybe so, but I have a lot of other animals to worry about around here.” Yoongi’s eyes shift between you and the cat. “And I don’t want to spread myself thin for this one—or anyone—who’d be giving me way more in return. I don’t think it’d be fair.”

You take a moment to organize your thoughts. You don’t necessarily think Yoongi is wrong in his reasoning, but perhaps that’s what has led to some other missed opportunities like this one. In fact, that’s probably why his whole love-at-first-sight situation never amounted to anything other than tea to spill.

“Every pet owner might approach it differently with a different mindset, but I don’t think it’s bad if you can find balance in it all. Maybe you can only give it 80% one day, and the next day you come back with 120,” you say. “The 80% days are what make the 120% days feel extra special.”

“Is that so?” Yoongi’s straight face is hard to read. “I’ll keep that in mind the next time someone cute walks through those doors. Maybe then I’ll be able to commit.”

“Are we still talking about pets or people?” You give him a look.

Yoongi shrugs. And then he smirks. Evilly. “Hey, can you do me a favor? Step outside for a sec.”

Although you have no idea what this boy is planning, you just go with it. Your day has already been full of unexpected twists, and one last shenanigan isn’t going to make a difference at this point. So you walk outside with your cat and stare at Yoongi on the other side of the glass doors.

You can’t hear him, but he immediately gestures for you to come back inside. You wait for him to take a hint that he should perhaps open the door for you. You have your hands full with a new cat, after all.

He finally opens the door, but you don’t move an inch. “Yoongi, what the fuck.”

“Just come in,” he laughs. “Please.”

You take one step back into the building, checking for any sign of what the fuck is going on. All you see is him pulling out his phone. “Are you filming a prank for your TikTok or something? Never mind, you’re too ancient for that.”

“It looks like Jimin scheduled a check-up appointment for us in a few weeks,” Yoongi says, reading through the details. He tucks his phone away and takes a few strides closer to you. “I don’t think I can wait that long to see you again.”

“Are you talking to me or the cat?” you ask. It seems you and Yoongi will never be done playing this game.

He closes the gap until the cat carrier is the only thing between you and him. His hands are on the carrier, but his eyes are on you. You didn’t realize how much lighter the cat carrier would feel with someone holding up the other half.

“I’m talking to the cutie who walked through those doors,” he says.

“Two cuties walked through those doors,” you say.

That has the boy speechless for just a second. Then he smiles. “I guess it’s my lucky day.”

#bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts fluff #yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfic #bts e2l #suga x reader #suga fanfic #yoongi #suga #bts enemies to lovers #enemies to lovers #yoongi e2l

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verus-veritas · 3 years

Text

Legacy

Revenge, Technology, Mind Transference, with a dash of unrequited love. What’s not to love? /Verus

"Dude! P-please! I'm sorry! Whatever you think I've done, it must all be a mistake!" Andew yelled, thrashing against his confinements and eyeing the only point of exit in the room. His firm muscles were wet and taut against his clothes, and his handsome face flush red with terror and worry.

"Are you really sorry though? It didn't seem like it from the way you acted during Gavin's funeral. The sneers and laughter you made as his parents said their final words to him..." I said, hiding in the shadows. Only my feet and the contours of my body was visible for him to see.

"N-no offense. I just found it funny when the parents said they wish he'd atleast gotten a girlfriend before he passed away-" The same devious sneer returned on his perfectly handsome face, as he most likely remembered the scene in his head.

"Of course you found it funny. Because you knew he was completely gay. Gay, and had a massive crush on you for ages. He literally worshipped the ground you walked on, and spent most of his waking hours wishing he could be with you." I explained, slowly walking around him as I pulled out a flimsy latex cap with electronical nodes attached to it.

"And I let him. I did no wrong." Andrew talked back. His eyes following my figure until I stood directly behind him.

"No! You lead him on, made him believe you were actually interested in him. And then you destroyed him. You are the reason he ran out of the house crying, and you are the reason he didn't see the truck speeding towards him!" My voice was shaking as I quickly slapped the cap onto his head, accidentally pulling out a few strands of his hair.

"Ouuch! Get this thing off me!" He shook his head and began thrashing about again.

"You know. He really loved you... He said he was going to make you the happiest man on earth. Showering you with gifts and undying love, and be by your side forever and ever. That's why he trusted you so wholeheartedly and let you do whatever you wanted."

"Naive..." He quietly muttered under his breath.

"He was even fine with you staring and drooling over other girls. As long as he could stay by your side."

"What a fag..." I could hear him gritting his teeth.

"But that evening when you invited him over, only to have him find you in the bedroom hooking up with a random girl... that completely ruined him. You shattered his dream, his self-confidence, and his sensitive soul! He didn't know what to do and where to go, which is why he ran straight out into the traffic..." My voice was uncontrollably going up and down now, as I was unable to hide my emotions.

"Dude only had himself to blame. He should've known I only had him around for the free stuff he bought for me." Andrew snickered, as he looked down at the expensive shorts Gavin had bought for him a few weeks prior.

"How dare you!" I tried to punch his shoulder, but knew I was too weak to do any real damage against his hard muscles.

"Y'know... it almost sounds like you had feelings for him- Wait a minute! You're that pastry white kid that always walked around with him aren't you?! Hah! 'Ghost boy' we called you!" The tone in his voice shifted - with more confidence and arrogance. Back to the way he normally talked - a manipulative bastard at heart. "I see. So you best friend Gavin never had feelings for you, and now that he's gone you blame yourself for not having stopped him."

"......" I clenched my hands till my knuckles turned white.

"Hah! Maybe you really were a horrible friend. Have you thought about that you might be the reason he's dead?" He laughed, obviously enjoying the way he was toying with my feelings.

"...you have no idea..." I mumbled, as tears began to flow down my cheeks.

"Maybe you should be the one sitting in this chair - tied up and wearing this stupid cap on your head. Hehe."

I took a deep breath and calmed myself, before walking around him once again and turning so he could see me. See the real me... one last time. "I will. Soon."

"W-what do you mean with that? And why are you also wearing that ridiculous cap?" He asked. His tone in voice once again becoming panicked and anxious.

"You see. The reason why I'm so pale is because I spend so much time at home playing with my inventions and devices. Coding is one of my favorite things to do. And for the last few months I've relentlessly been working on creating this device we're both wearing right now. It was originally only meant to be used on you, recoding the patterns in your brain into loving Gavin as much as he loved you. While also erasing all of your bad traits and turning you into his ideal boyfriend... but there's no reason for that anymore, is there? So, I upgraded it into 2.0, which can now be used with two people."

"P-pff... yeah right... and what does this new version do then?"

"It can transfer the consciousness between two human brains. Even recoding the brain into believing the new consciousness have always been in control of its own body. All the memories, habits, and even muscle memory will be easily accessible to the new permanent owner." I explained, as I began fiddling with a machine by our side. The nodes on our caps lit up.

"Permanent?! Wait a minute. Let's say all of this freaky sci-fi stuff is actually real, what's going to happen to my consciousness?" Andrew asked, as he began to get more anxious by the beeping sound of the nodes on his head.

"All gone. Overwritten by mine. Erased out of existence with no way of restoring it." I answered nonchalantly. Flicking the last switched around, the device was now ready to be activated.

"What the fuck! Then you're basically killing me?! Get me out of here, you sick freak!" He began violently thrashing against the back of the chair, and flung his head around to get the latex cap off... but to no avail.

"Am I really though? Your memories, your body, and your relationships will all still be here, under my complete control. I'm just... discarding a small part of you that's no longer necessary."

"No...no... Help! HELP! SOMEONE!! THIS CRAZY MOTHERFUCKER IS GOING TO KILL ME!" He shouted at the top of his lungs, but the soundproofed walls would do him no good.

I flicked the final switch and walked over to him as the machine began buzzing. Standing in front of him, I suddenly sat down on his lap and grabbed hold of his face. I stared into his fearful yet piercing blue eyes and slid my hands across the cheeks and contours of his face.

"This beautiful face of yours that Gavin loved, I promise I'll take good care of it and cherish it until the day I die. It's the least I can do to honor my friend Gavin." I leaned forward and gently laid a kiss on his sweaty forehead, while holding him in place as he screamed for all he was worth.

"No! Noo! NOoO-Uoogguuughhhh" His scream turned into a gurgle as his eyes rolled to the back of his head. At the same time, my eyes went white and hazy as my pastry body slumped over and fell on the cement floor. Most likely cracked open its head or something from the sound of it.

"NgOOuoouughhgguuuhh!!!" Andrew's head flung back and forth as if to fight whatever was invading his head, but it barely took a minute before the thrashing suddenly stopped and his head slumped down.

His eyes were closed, his face flushed red from exertion, and the sweat and drool pooled down onto his expensive shorts. A further five minutes of stillness and blinking nodes passed before any activity was seen.

---

*Gasp*

I awoke to the cap on my head giving me a quick electric shock. In front of me laid my old withered body, lifeless and without a doubt stone dead. My throat felt dry and tired, and the ties on my arms hurt like hell. In fact, everything felt, looked, and smelt different. The smell oozing from my sweaty clothes that once smelt great now stunk in my nose. I could recall from Andrew's memories that he showered atleast twice a day. I showered atleast twice a day.

After some fiddling with the special knots in my back, I easily slipped the rope off. Massaging the sore parts on my wrist, I soon relished in how big and strong my new hands looked now. Hands who should've been holding Gavin's...

I explored further up till I reached my new bulging biceps. Squeezing them I felt how firm and taut they were. I never in a million years would have managed to get myself this big, but here I was, standing in the body of a perfect specimen. The body of the man who my friend loved, but who didn't truly love him back. If only I could've done this before Gavin died... Would he have loved me instead, or would he have hated me for what I had done? Well, atleast he would've been alive.

My focus went to my Andrew face, as I caressed the blemish-free skin and the small stubble forming on it. The face of the man I had hated for a while, the face of the man whose identity I would have to take over, and the face I would see in the mirror for as long as I breathed. It was one of the most handsome faces I've ever laid my eyes on no doubt, so I'm perfectly fine with that decision.

My hands continued to explore what was now mine; running fingers through my lush but wet hair, following the outline of my cobblestone abs, and shaking my strong and muscular legs awake from sitting too long.

Not long after I finally slipped the drool and sweat-soaked shorts off myself and watched as the tool between my legs arose to its new owner. It might not have been as long as my former one, but the very girth of it made up for it. As I enveloped it between my palms, I realized that no one had ever been as intimate with Andrew's tool as I was now, and no one would ever be. Not even Gavin would if he was somehow resurrected. Only I, Andrew would ever know how this throbbing member would feel in my own hands, the endorphins and pleasure its touch would send throughout my amazing body, and the ultimate earth-shattering orgasms I would experience as I edge myself to climax every day from now on.

The very thought of it immediately brought me to the brink of orgasm, so I quickly spread my legs apart and thrust the member fully through my grasp. It was all that was needed as I suddenly began shaking with pleasure and exploded shot after shot of Andrew seed all over the floor, myself and my former lifeless body."Ugh! Uuuugh! UUUuOOGggHH!!"

“.... Holy shit.....” I moaned, slightly shocked by the unfamiliarity of the new voice coming from my throat.

Reeling from my first ever orgasm in my new body and life, I sat back down on the chair and took a breather. I was sweaty, my crotch sticky, and my armpits stunk. Yet, I know I still looked glorious. How couldn't I? After all, I am Andrew. The man who Gavin loved, and who loved him back just as much, if not even more...

I will dedicate this new life of mine to worship and care for this body just as much as Gavin would have. His legacy, Andrew's body and life, and my consciousness have finally become one... and I promise I will carry them with pride and confidence to the grave... even if it is the only thing I will accomplish in this short insignificant life of mine.

#possession #revenge #selflove #love #dark #permanent #identity theft #mine

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devildomimagines · 3 years

Text

Request: How the Demon Brothers React to a Very Competent Caretaker MC

The prompt: MC has to take care of lots of siblings back in the human world. Not, like, 6 or 7 siblings, but TWENTY-FOUR!! MC can multitask like no one’s business and can easily take care of any problem that might arise with their siblings. MC is great at taking care of others and enjoys it. The hang-up is that when they come to Devildom, they suddenly find themselves with a lot of free time and aren’t really sure how to fill in those gaps since they were always dedicating themselves to others.

Anon! Your message was so sweet but I was having technical difficulties writing the post as an answer so I decided to just make a separate text post. Btw, your great-grandmother sounds like a total badass, what an inspiration! I hope you don’t mind my work around for the technical issues and I hope this lives up to what you were looking for!

Edit: I wrote this for the formerly Undateables as well, check it out here.

Belphegor

As the youngest he doesn’t completely understand but he does love his family (even if he doesn’t always show it).

He is kind of amazed with how competent MC is and how easily adaptable to the needs of him and his brothers.

He’s kind of selfish so oftentimes he abuses your nurturing nature.

After the events in the attic, Belphie does worry you’ll hold it against him, even subconsciously. You cut the tension one night by saying, "You can't kill me, I've survived my little sibling trying to play violin with a chainsaw!" The mental image makes him laugh.

Belphie would be the best brother to consult with if you want to learn to be a little selfish yourself. It doesn’t have to be a complete personality overhaul but there is value in knowing what you want and making those wants known to others.

While taking care of so many siblings, you never had the opportunity to take naps and he is offended! But secretly loves that he gets to show you the joys of a nap.

Beelzebub

Beel loves taking care of others, just a very loving boy. The two of you get along like peas in a pod.

It’s very easy to fall into old habits around him because he has a personality that makes you want to care for him.

Since he’s so strong, he does fear hurting you by accident. You let him know, “I don't fear pain, I do my school homework upside-down while on a ladder changing the lamp." While it doesn’t totally extinguish his fears, the thought of that total body workout intrigues him enough to distract him.

If you want to fill some time, he would love to have you join him at the gym or come see his games.

Physical fitness and nutrition are fundamental to taking care of yourself and Beel would be the demon to go to to learn more if you’re interested.

Also, I’m sure you would agree but cooking is a form of love so if you enjoy spending your free time baking and cooking, Beel will follow you around (for the treats lol). He’s said it before, if you know how to cook then he wants you to stay by his side.

Asmodeus

“Treat yo self” is his guiding principle. He is your demon to teach self-care.

If you’re looking for something to do, part of your time can be filled with his routines for skin care, hair care and mental health checks.

Casually you mentioned one day, “"Me, go to sleep? I'm the oldest sibling, I don't sleep, I worry with my eyes closed!"

“MC! You need to get your beauty rest!” He countered. I can imagine that he basically drags you to Belphie to figure out how to sleep better.

Although he has a lot of knowledge to offer, you are quick to pick it up and help him in braiding his hair out of his face or gently applying a face mask.

The fun part of learning from Asmo is that there’s always some new beauty product to try and he loves having a buddy to try it with.

Satan

He’s amazed with everything you can do. He asks you to teach him how to do things he watches you do flawlessly.

He’s definitely curious to hear about what it’s like living with so many siblings, 6 seems like too many sometimes so 4 times that is completely unknown to him.

Satan was helping with some homework and suggested tackling an easier assignment first, you challenged him with, "Don't underestimate me, I managed to make a toddler spell pneumoultramicroscopicssilicovulcanoconiosis!"

He laughs as he confirms he wasn’t underestimating you, just trying to offer some guidance for efficiency.

You need something to pass time? Satan has enough books in his room to literally last your lifetime.

He can help you find any kind of book, simply let him know what you would be interested in and he probably has a suggestion.

Leviathan

He’s drawn to you and at first he doesn’t know why. Later he realizes it’s because you’re so good at listening where his brothers usually just ignore him.

Games and anime are a great time filler if you’re interested, he’s got all the best recommendations.

It might be tough to get into first if you’re not used to binge watching a series or gaming for hours on end.

When he apologizes for possibly annoying you with his rants you assure, "You can't annoy me, I've endured eight rebellious teenagers!"

I could imagine that you’d resonate with slice of life animes as an introduction to the genre and possibly adventure games with a good story would catch your attention.

Even if you’re not totally invested, he enjoys your presence since you’re not dismissing his interest.

Mammon

Listen, he’s a good older brother! Some of his personal decisions are questionable but he’s dependable when needed.

Definitely king of random interests so your well-rounded abilities are actually well suited to keeping up with whatever past time has piqued his interest this week.

Mammon would probably be confused when you see something during one of his shopping trips that you clearly want but refuse to buy. Eventually he builds it up enough (like the demon on your shoulder whispering in your ear lol) that you do end up getting it.

What you had first dismissed as Mammon being materialistic, you slowly come to realize because of him that you can surround yourself with things that bring you joy and so your days are filled with happiness.

He can get reckless so he appreciates your protection from Lucifer’s punishments and hides behind you like some of your siblings did at home.

He protects you too though! He stands up for you and points out things that are unfair to make you aware.

Lucifer

Oldest sibling comradery from the get-go.

You’re both very responsible individuals and when you join forces, it’s like nothing is impossible.

He’s the one you go to the first couple weeks when you find yourself with free time. He’s sure to have something to be done to help fill the newfound free time.

Over time he comes to rely on you but he’s worried he’s overworking you with the tougher assignments. You made sure to remind him, "I have no difficulty with this task, I'm the oldest of twenty-four siblings!"

Lucifer recognizes your competence and he excels at boosting confidence and pride so don’t think you are not immune to that.

The more time you spend with him, the more you develop a stronger sense of self-worth and self-determination. He practically gushes pride at the sight of you defending yourself and claiming the value of your time near the end of the exchange program.

#obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #my writing #anon requests

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lubdubsworld · 3 years

Text

Better Man.

~~~~We might still be in love, if you were a better man. ~~~~

Taehyung x OC

Rating 18 +

Angst.

Implied Infidelity in the past.

Chapter 1 ~ Walk out the first time.

"Are you okay?" My mother's soft voice came from behind me and i panicked, hurriedly swiping at the tears that were streaking down my face. Heart pounding, I grabbed a bunch of tissues from the dresser, patting my face down hurriedly , making sure to keep my back to her.

"I'm fine, Mom." I said , voice surprisingly steady as I turned around to smile weakly at her. She stood near the doorway, a petite woman of fifty with greying hair and too many wrinkles.

I thought she looked older than she was and i knew I had a part to play in that. Sighing, I tried not to cry more, moving to gently take my son out of her arms.

He was four years old, fast asleep and smiling sweetly in his slumber. He had downy black hair, feather soft and warm brown eyes. He looked incredibly like his father, the resemblance stunning even though he was so young. I stared at him some more, laying him down on the bed and brushing the hair off his face.

"Are you sure there is no mistake? Taehyung ssi wouldn't hurt us like this..." My mother said, sounding broken and I felt a pang of sympathy. But also annoyance.

Us.

Us....like she had an equal share in the hurt I was feeling.

I was the one getting a divorce but my mother made it sound like it was personal to her as well. Like somehow, the fact that she now had to meet her friends and tell them that her daughter was divorced could compare to the pain I was feeling. To the sheer anguish that was filling me.

To be fair though, my mother had loved Taehyung very much. Her favorite son-in-law . My sister's husband had been a mean drunkard who had brought a lot of misery to our family. Taehyung by contrast had been a loving, filial son in law. He had cared deeply for my parents, paid for my father's funeral ( even though the man itself was nothing more than a drunk , cheating fool who had abandoned us ) and he had been the most kind man .

I swallowed.

Maybe , you should have forgiven him. Maybe , you shouldn't have divorced him . So, he slept with another woman. Fine. It was one night... just one night. you should have gotten over it! Was it worth it to spend all these countless nights alone? To break your mother's heart a thousand times over?

The funny thing was, i had forgiven him. Maybe right after I had found out. He had stood there, looking shell-shocked and horrified and his eyes had begged me for forgiveness and my heart had cracked , the way it always did whenever I saw him in distress. And when he had looked me in the eye and said, " I’m sorry, Jang mi..." I had forgiven him right then and there.

But it was the forgetting that was hard. The fear that it would happen again. The fear that somehow, I was the reason he strayed. And that kind of fear can be debilitating. For the first three weeks, I'd tried to pretend it hadn't happened. I had tried hard to see him the way I had always seen him but it had been impossible. everytime I saw him, my heart had broken anew. It had been hard but I had to accept that things would never be the same. That I would forever look at him and remember what he’d done. That I would forever wonder if he would do it again.

So we had done the wise thing.

At first a break.

A few days apart to get our head on straight. Then I’d found a job and I had to move closer to the office to make the commute easy. And then suddenly, I wasn’t seeing him even during the weekends , to spend time as family for our son’s sake. And just like that , a whole year had passed and we were separated. Only meeting to hand Hoshi over to each other.

"I'm sorry mother." I said softly. I knew that she blamed me, a whole lot for the separation.

People with children didn't leave each other over infidelity in my country. You hit your husband, denied him from your bed maybe but you didn't break up a family over one night of bad decisions. You just didn't .

But for me, it was beyond the act. It was the broken trust, the shock of knowing that some other woman had given him something I couldn't, the fact that he had even wanted it from another woman had been enough for me to crumble on the inside.

But, none of it mattered now.

He wanted a divorce. Officially. Wanted to end it for real.

It was jarring, how badly it shook me. I felt unaccountably lost and confused and disoriented. I couldn't imagine not being Taehyung’s wife , i realized with a stunning sense of self realization.

Call me irrational, but apparently, I couldn't stop thinking of him as my husband , even after two years. Soon he wouldn't be my husband.

He would be my ex -husband.

i hated that word.

It had such a plethora of negative connotations to it. When you hear it , you just brace yourself for unpleasantness.

Because it is unpleasant. A marriage ending, a family breaking, feelings hurt , hearts shattered, angry words tossed...its all a very unpleasant experience for everyone involved.

An ex husband was seldom a harbinger of happiness, more often a reminder of choices gone wrong, regrets and wasted time. and I didn’t want to associate Taehyung with a word like that.

Taehyung who was still the kindest, warmest human being I knew. The best father in the world.

I felt like someone had sucked all the strength out of me.

I didn’t really want to think about the call I’d gotten from Taehyung last night. An appointment with a divorce lawyer. It had been followed by an apology because apparently, someone in the law firm had let the info leak. And now it was all over the sleazy tabloids that fed on people’s misery.

It was impossible to escape it too, Taehyung was famous. An idol. And actor. The country's sweetheart. And he was the epitome of perfection. The beautiful, talented actor with an impeccable record of well behavior.

I knew that literally everyone on the planet thought he was a literal angel.

I remembered how much , by contrast, I had been hated when I'd married him.

I could just imagine how much more it would all be this time around. And i wondered if it bothered Taehyung too. Did he perhaps wish he’d never met me

It had been sheer luck that we had met....

In fact, if Jimin's car hadn't broken down right outside our home on that cold December night, I wouldn't have even met Taehyung. A great cosmic shift, somewhere some butterfly flapped its wing a certain way and suddenly, Jimin’s car ran over a thumbtack and his phone was dead so while he tried to fix the damage , Taehyung just had to knock on our home and I had been the one to open it.

Boom. That was it. Love at first sight.

I had been a high school kid and he had been barely nineteen. Fresh faced and cheerful , the struggling idol from a small company. He hadn't been surrounded by fans or chased by saesangs. He hadn't had security tailing him. No daesangs, BBMAs, or acting awards. No blockbuster movies to his credit , no chart-bursting songs either .

And I had fallen in love with that version of him.

The hardworking, talented young man who worked twice as hard as anyone around him.

That's right. You've loved him for fifteen years. So it's understandable that you're upset. Now, maybe you can move on too. Go on a few of those blind dates that Jiyoung is always setting you up on. Go live your life instead of being a zombie. Get a hair cut. Dye your hair red. Do something to get your life in order.

"I still find it hard to believe that he would want a divorce. Jangmi yah... did you tell him you forgave him? Tell him you wanted to try again..." My mother said again and the distress in her voice was equal parts heartbreaking and exasperating.

"Mother, I don't want to try again . We aren't married anymore. It's over, whatever it was between us. "

Whatever it was.

How cruel, to have all that love, all that affection reduced to a phrase like that.

What a pity.

"But what about Hoshi? He needs his father..." My mother cried out and I willed myself not to snap. She means well, I thought miserably.

"He has a father. Taehyung is an excellent father and you know that. Don’t start that again.”

My mother sighed.

"I still feel that this wouldn’t happen if you tried a little bit. He’s a good boy. Such a good boy and you could never do anyone better. Why are you so full of pride, Jangmi... so prideful...you should be a little humble. Think of the kind of man he is...where would you find a man like that ? And moreover .... Taehyung loves you. i know he does." My mother said stubbornly.

I sighed, feeling my fingers shake from the effort not to scream. I wasn’t strong enough to have this conversation with her. Not now. Possibly never. Taehyung did love me. Had never made any effort to hide it. But sometimes, love wasn’t enough. It just wasn’t.

And I wanted to yell at my mother she was at least partially to blame for me walking out on Taehyung.

My father had left us for another woman , when I was twelve. I had seen the toll it had taken on my mother and I just knew that I would never let a man do that to me. My mother had later confided in me that it wasn’t the first time. He had done it before. A lot of times. And my mother had always forgiven him. Let him back into our lives.

And one night, drunk on soju she had confided between hiccups, ‘ I wish I’d walked out the first time.”

And that had stuck with me.

Walk out the first time.

If he cheats on you , walk out the first time. Don’t stick around waiting for him to do it to you again. Walk out the first time.

And so I had.

“ Should I talk to him? Tell him you’ve changed your mind? “ My mother began and I felt my patience snap.

“No!! Could you just, for the love of God, stay out of this, ma? It’s over. Our marriage is over and it has been over for a long time. A piece of paper doesn’t really change that, does it? Its not my fault you can’t get over it but that’s a you problem. And you need to fix it yourself. “ I shouted.

My mother immediately recoiled, eyes shuttering down.

“Of course. You know the best. Who cares how anyone else feels, right, Jang Mi? You always know best.” She said softly, and I exhaled, shaken. There it was. The guilt trip. It was never ending.

Please... I just need to go now.” I moved to grab my bag, :” I need to go get ready for the meeting with the lawyers tomorrow. You can keep Hoshi with you tonight. I’ll come pick him up after I’m done and then I’ll drop him off at his father’s place.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

With Taehyung and I, our break up hadn’t been terrible.

It hadn’t been terrible because our own penchant for being terrible had always been very minimal. We didn’t do swearing or fights or threats and it always annoyed our friends that we got along so well. That it was so easy for us to forgive and move on with each other . That we were the one couple who didn’t hold grudges or bring up past mistakes.

Which is why, when we did break up, none of our friends had tried to change our minds over it. They had accepted it rather calmly, shocked at first because it was so out of the blue but not opposed to the idea itself . They just trusted us to know the right thing to do because we were easily the most mature , the most level headed couple in the entire group. We were usually the sounding boards , the voice of reason in whatever petty conflict our friends were involved in .

So when it was us, needling a little advice, a little guidance, our friends had been woefully ill equipped to help. They had merely hummed and nodded and empathized. Maybe that was another reason I’d left. I hadn’t considered the alternative. No one had asked me to consider the alternative.

Our friends had watched us drift apart watched us break up, but they hadn’t really asked us why.

Because if something had caused Kim Taehyung and Jang Mi to break up, man, that must’ve been a really huge issue.

So the break up had been amicable. Gradual and slow but mostly amicable, eased by our mutual love for our son. We wanted him happy and he was happy when we were happy. So we put on a front, laughed and joked in front of him and let him have some semblance of normalcy in his life.

It wasn’t easy.

From him, it had been nothing but a mess of heated glances, touches laced with intent and eyes begging forgiveness . every gaze of his was a silent scream for a second chance that I was not at all ready to give.

Because for me, the raw hurt and anger and frustration that bubbled up every time I saw him , it had nowhere to go. It stayed churning in my gut, made everything bitter and unpalatable and I wanted to hurt him for hurting me. How could I think of a second chance when the hurt from the first, was still so fresh, an open wound festering.

Self esteem in tatters, I had hated him fiercely.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The meeting was at his company, and I arrived at nine in the morning, with a few more minutes to spare. I knew the place like the back of my hand, was here at least once a week either to pick or drop Hoshi off and I knew that the conference room in the third floor was sound proof and cut off from the rest of the building for extra privacy.

Which was a little too late because I’d found two tabloid newspapers waiting outside my apartment this morning.

I opened the door carefully, surprised to see Taehyung sitting in one of the chairs, bent over a sheaf of paper on the table and next to him a leggy girl in a small skirt hovered, fingers resting lightly on his shoulder, bent at the optimum angle to show him her curves.

I sighed, looking away.

It was way too early for this.

“Mia!” Taehyung’s voice made me look up, and I watched as he stood up, pushing the chair away and moving to me . He was easily the most good looking man in the country. And he looked so good at thirty five that it was impossible to look away from him.

He was dressed in a pale blue shirt and black slacks and it never amazed me, how good clothes fit him.

I took in the broad shoulders, thick arms and the lean waist, the carefully styled hair and the breathtakingly beautiful face and sighed when he kept coming closer, hands held out. .

Of course, the customary hug.

i let him wrap his arms around me, my face buried in the comforting warmth of his body, the scent of his cologne filling my brain . He always smelled so good it made my heart hurt. I tried not to let myself get carried away. Tried to remind myself that this wasn’t anything more than a.....

A facade ? Or was it? Was his affection genuine?

Was I just too cynical?

I shook my head, pulling away and smiling a little at the genuine venom in the leggy girl’s face.

“Are you okay? Where’s Hoshi?” Taehyung brushed the hair off my face, eyes warm and I wondered if he’d forgotten we were here to get a divorce.

Whenever we met, Taehyung acted like we were still together.

No, that wasn’t it.

He just didn’t act like we had broken up. He was affectionate and open and cooperative. It always left me in a sort of limbo, unable to navigate our relationship with clear boundaries. There were no line to stop myself from crossing, because he just didn’t draw them.

“ Ms. Lee says we just have to go over the details like the alimony and the custody and the division of assets and then we can just proceed. Get it all finalized. “ He said casually, when I moved away and sat on the chair opposite him.

“Okay .” I said casually.

He smiled and turned back to the girl next to him.

“I’ll join you after the meeting Lisa.” he gave her a nice wide smile and the girl practically bloomed under the attention before bowing curtly in my direction. I watched her walk away, slightly amused.

“Bit younger than your usual type.” I commented , glancing at him. He gave me a look.

“I’m not dating her.” He shrugged.

“Does she know that?” I retorted.

It was dumb. Uncalled for. I was being a bitch, really but the urge to evoke some kind of reaction from Taehyung was something I’d never really out grown. I liked getting under his skin.

Taehyung sighed and gave me a little smirk.

“Are you jealous, Mia mine?” He teased.

It felt a little like someone had dug a nine inch dagger straight into my heart.

That stupid nickname.

God I couldn’t bear it.

Swallowing i looked away.

“Sorry. “ he said quietly, a few seconds later.

I nodded curtly.

“Don’t do it again.” I said hoarsely.

“Why not?” He whispered gently.

I groaned.

“Taehyung... “

“it’s just a name...why does it bother you so much?” He whispered.

“The same reason you’re asking me for a divorce.” I said softly.

He blinked.

“Mia...”

“Because we both know its time to stop.” I said quietly. “ Stop dancing around each other , stop doing...whatever it is we’ve been doing these past two years and give our relationship a name. “

“I’m not very fond of labels.” He shrugged. I glared at him.

“Well tough luck. Labels are good. Labels are great. They let you draw boundaries. “ I retorted.

“You sound like you’ve had enough of me.”

“Well, haven’t you had enough of me?” I snapped.

“Not even close.” He leaned forward gently, eyes pinning me to the table with a gaze so strong he may as well have used his body. And it didn’t help that two years wasn’t enough time to forget how it would feel if he had used his body. How it would feel to be stretched out on that table, him on top of me, hands working my clothes open, lips kissing their way down my jaw.

I could almost taste him, taste the minty freshness of his breath, feel his tongue in my mouth, the hardness of him inside me. My thighs clenched because I hadn’t gotten laid in two fucking years and even if i did, no one would ever compare to the man in front of me.

“Mr. Kim? Mrs. Kim? “

The lawyer’s voice broke the spell and i straightened, swallowing. Ms. Lee had walked in , and I watched her close the conference door behind her before locking it gently.

She was young, dressed in a business suit , a no nonsense bun and had small round framed glasses. She gave me a nice smile, shook hands with us both and placed her briefcase on the table before glancing between us.

“Shall we begin?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s Note : its gonna be a bumpy ride.

#taehyung angst #taehyung smut #taehyung fics #bts fics #taehyung fanfic #bts smut #bts fic #bts fanfic

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there-must-be-a-lock · 3 years

Text

Play Pretend

Spencer Reid x (gender neutral) Reader

Word Count: ~4170

Warnings: I don’t think there are any? Some language. Egregious amounts of fluff. A blanket fort and a Star Trek onesie. Gratuitous descriptions of Spencer Reid’s bone structure, because apparently I can’t help myself.

A/N: For the “treat yo’ self” square on my @cmbingo card, and also for @railmereid‘s 2k challenge! Prompt for the latter is bolded.

It’s been a godawful case, and in the BAU, that’s saying something. At least nobody ended up in the hospital this time? But as you all troop onto the jet in a straggly line of wrinkled clothes and puffy eyes, that’s about the brightest spot you can find in this whole fucking week.

As you get settled, though, Hotch clears his throat. “Your attention, please. We’re taking a long weekend, Strauss’s orders.”

“Oh thank god,” you mutter under your breath.

“Once we get back and grab our things, you are not to return to the office for a full seventy-two hours.” Hotch looks sternly (well, even more sternly) at Spencer, who’s on the couch next to you, curling up for a nap. “Understood? And you are not allowed to take case files home, Reid. I mean it this time.”

“Understood,” he says grouchily. You can’t help but laugh at the pout on his face.

“Seriously?” you ask.

He shrugs, lips quirking up like he does actually realize what a ridiculous human being he is. “I have many talents, but ‘taking it easy’ is not one of them.” He does the air quotes, even.

“All those PhDs and you never got a degree in relaxation?”

“That’s not—” He realizes you’re teasing and grins. “No. No I did not. I just… never really know what to do with myself, I guess?”

“Shocking.”

“What are you going to do, then?”

“I am going to have a treat yo’ self day,” you declare proudly.

“A what?”

“You know, like in Parks and Rec?” He gives you a blank look. “No, you totally don’t know. Of course you don’t. But there’s this one episode where two of the characters have a ‘treat yo’ self’ day, and they go shopping and get, like, really self-indulgent things that they wouldn’t ordinarily buy themselves.”

He frowns. “You’re going shopping all weekend? You’ve never struck me as a particularly materialistic person.”

“Fuck, no. It’s more about indulging in experiences. Self-care. Things that make me feel relaxed. Just… whatever makes me happy.”

“Like what?” He still has this totally puzzled look on his face, with his nose wrinkled up. It’s so much more endearing than it has any right to be.

“I like painting. I’m not good at it, but I like it, so I’m gonna get some new paints and a big canvas and make a mess, because it makes me happy.”

“Huh.”

“What about you, then? What do you do to relax?”

“That’s… a good question, honestly.”

“Well, what’s your idea of a perfect day?”

Maybe it shouldn’t surprise you that self-care is a foreign concept to him. You wait patiently as he overthinks it.

“Perfect seems unrealistic,” he concludes wryly.

“So, like, remember when you were a kid and you walked into a really awesome toy store?” you prompt. “Just feeling that sort of carefree, giddy kind of happy?”

“Not really.” He shrugs.

“What did make you feel like that, though?” you ask. “When you were younger? There had to be something.”

“I think I just — I didn’t do much normal kid stuff.” He lets out a huff of a laugh and runs his hands through his messy curls, suddenly self-conscious. “Didn’t get to play pretend, or… I don’t know. Didn’t have time.”

“Right,” you say softly. “Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about.”

You nod, throat suddenly tight. “Yeah. Get some sleep, Spencer. Sweet dreams.”

He gives you a tired half-smile and tugs his blanket up to his chin, tucking his hands under his cheek, and the dark hollows under his eyes are hidden by his long lashes as he falls asleep almost immediately. You need to rest too, but it takes you a while; you sneak a glance at him every so often, feeling that twist under your breastbone that happens all too often when you’re around Spencer.

By the time the jet lands, though, you have a plan.

* * * * *

You second-guess your plan approximately a thousand times on your way over to Spencer’s the next morning. When you get to his door, you almost convince yourself to walk away before you manage to knock; is this totally presumptuous? Is Spencer going to think you’re ridiculous? Is the whole thing just plain stupid?

Then again, you were stupid enough to fall for Spencer in the first place, so. What’s another stupid decision on top of that whole mess?

When he opens the door, he’s wearing pajama pants, a t-shirt, and a phenomenally hideous bathrobe, and he’s all messy-haired and sleepy-eyed, and for a moment you’re panicking because oh shit I woke him up. It’s almost noon, to be fair, but he did have some serious sleep to catch up on. Then you notice the coffee mug in his hand, and after a moment of relief, that morphs into more of a oh shit he’s so fucking beautiful type of panic.

You’re used to that, though.

Then you realize he’s staring at you, smiling but puzzled, and you haven’t explained yourself. Oops.

“Um. Trick or treat yourself day?” you blurt out, hoisting your shopping bags and giggling at your own lame joke. “I… brought you something. Sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you — I should’ve texted, I just—”

“You’re always a good surprise,” Spencer says shyly, and then seems to shake himself. “Come in. Sorry. Coffee?”

“Please.”

You set down your shopping bags and follow him to the kitchen, where he fixes you a mug of your own — exactly how you like it, because of course he remembers. Then he takes a couple deep gulps of his own sugar-sludge and tops it up, and by the time you go back out to the living room, he’s starting to look vaguely awake.

“What’s all this about?” he finally asks, head cocked to look curiously at the bags.

“Well,” you start slowly. Now that you have to say it out loud, it sounds even more stupid. “I was thinking a treat yourself day would be a lot more fun with company, and it seems like… maybe you’re overdue for some of that? For… self-indulgence, and just, like, enjoying yourself without worrying. And you deserve it. So. You wanna?”

His eyes are soft and bright, oddly vulnerable, and a smile spreads slowly across his face, twitchy at the edges like he’s not sure he’s allowed to smile yet.

“Really? I don’t know what to do, though.”

“Well, I have some ideas about that. But first, you gotta make a deal with me.” The way he’s beaming makes you feel a whole lot more confident as you tell him, very seriously, “This is the sacred covenant of treat yourself day. You have to solemnly swear to do whatever you want. Anything you can dream up. Indulge every whim. Take an oath to give in to every one of your silly, random, frivolous desires, without any form of self-denial or doubt. Can you do that, Spencer?”

“I can try,” he says, and his voice cracks. It’s like he can’t shape the words, with the way his smile has taken over his entire face.

“Okay, good enough. And… I have a few ideas.”

“Like what?”

You shrug. “Like… some things I thought maybe you didn’t get to do as a kid? Here, let me—”

You rummage until you find what you were looking for, and then you turn around, holding it out like an offering. Spencer’s mouth drops open.

“Is that a Captain Kirk costume?” he asks squeakily.

“It’s a Captain Kirk onesie,” you correct. “And it’s for you.”

“Holy—”

He shucks the bathrobe and sets down his coffee hastily, and he’s zipping the onesie up before you can say “Beam me up,” looking down at himself with this joy on his face, totally giddy in a way you’ve never seen him before, and holy hell, even if he hates the rest of your ideas, this will be one hundred fifty percent worth it for the memory of that smile on Spencer’s face.

“I have one too,” you admit, and pull your Chewbacca onesie out of your backpack. Once you’re both appropriately attired, you tell him, “Next order of business is cartoons.”

“I don’t actually have TV?” he says apologetically. “I mean, I have a TV, but it’s only for —”

You grin. “I came prepared, though!”

Spencer’s the only person you know who still has a VHS player, but you’ve been holding onto some things you rescued from your parents’ attic a while back; you find your VHS of Tom & Jerry cartoons and wave it at him triumphantly.

“I’ve never watched that before.” He examines the cover, bemused.

“It’s essential viewing.”

“Okay,” he says slowly.

While he performs whatever arcane ritual makes his ancient TV work (there’s like a rain dance and an animal sacrifice involved, you’re pretty sure) you settle on the couch, nesting in all the blankets and sipping your coffee contentedly. Spencer presses play and sits down next to you, but you can feel his uncertainty; he’s holding himself stiffly, and he keeps sneaking glances at you.

“Spit it out,” you tell him, a few minutes in. “If you hate it, you can just say so, Spence. I won’t take it personally.”

He shakes his head. “It’s not that! I just — is this really how you want to spend your Saturday?”

“What do you mean?” You have a Chewbacca onesie, a perfect cup of coffee, and great company; you’re not entirely sure how this could get any better.

“Doing nothing,” he mumbles. “This is… there are so many things you could be doing. Don’t you have a whole list of things you wanted to do? But instead… I don’t know. You’re here. With me.”

Sometimes you want to scream until he realizes how awesome he is, but the screaming is probably not the best way to convey that particular message.

Instead, you keep your voice very quiet as you tell him, “There is absolutely nowhere else I’d rather be right now.”

It’s a little too true. Your cheeks burn as you turn back to the TV, trying not to dwell on the way you can see him watching you in your peripheral vision.

“Okay,” he says hoarsely. He settles himself more comfortably into the blanket nest, and before long, he’s giggling along with you.

You watch in peaceful silence for a little while, but at some point, Spencer’s stomach growls, and you pause the tape to make food — chocolate chip pancakes with whipped cream, as per his verdict on “ultimate treat food.” As it turns out, he knows a lot about the science of cooking, but not a whole lot about the actual practice, so he sits cross-legged in a chair and directs you to various cabinets as you measure and mix and whisk. When you get the batter poured out on the griddle, he’s pattering on about the chemical differences between baking soda and baking powder.

He looks utterly dismayed when the first chocolate chip hits his forehead. Turns out his lack of hand-eye coordination applies to mouth-eye coordination too, and the floor is littered with semi-sweet projectiles before he actually catches one, but he’s laughing, so you really can’t bring yourself to care.

The pancakes are a total success. When you’re both stuffed and sugar-high, you grab the syrupy plates and bring them to the sink for a quick rinse.

“You don’t have to,” Spencer protests. You ignore him. His next words are much softer, scratchy and hoarse: “Thank you. I don’t — just — thank you.”

“Nothing to thank me for,” you say briskly. Then you turn around, and you freeze, because he’s a whole lot closer than you thought he was; he’s right there, close enough that you could reach out and run your fingers through his hair, or trace the sharp line of his jaw.

He has a tiny streak of whipped cream at the corner of his mouth, right where his lips curl up as he smiles, and for a second you can barely breathe with how much you want to stand up on your tiptoes and see if he tastes as sweet as he looks.

For a second he looks like he wants you to. He’s frozen too, for a moment, and you can hear his breath catch, but then he scoops you up in a hug, squeezing tight. And yeah, it’s just friendly, but it’s a hug from Spencer, and that happens rarely enough that it feels like a treat of its own, so you go with it, forehead pressed to his shoulder, heart racing.

When he releases you, you tell yourself you’re not disappointed.

“Right,” you say, bossy to cover how flustered you feel. “Back to business.”

“I think I need more practice sitting still,” Spencer confesses, following you back out to the couch. “It feels weird just… not doing anything.”

You pause, deliberating. “Well, we could keep our hands busy?”

With a quick rummage, you produce paint and an extra large pad of paper, holding them up for Spencer’s inspection. He frowns.

“I don’t have any paintbrushes.”

“They’re finger paints,” you say, grinning, and he laughs.

“Of course they are.”

You set everything up on the coffee table while Spencer presses play, and the two of you sit down on the floor, side by side. Spencer looks down at his onesie, then at the paint, frowning.

“It’s all washable, Spencer.”

“Still,” he mumbles. “I don’t want to take it off, but —”

He unzips the onesie halfway, peeling the arms off and letting the fabric bunch up around his waist.

“There we go, putting that genius brain to work,” you tease, but you’re touched that he cares enough about your present to worry about stains.

It’s hard to ignore how close you’re sitting. You do your best, keeping your eyes on either the TV or your masterpiece of Abstract Expressionism, but Spencer’s knee is pressed to yours, a constant warm pressure, and your hands keep brushing as you both reach for containers of paint, and you can smell him, like vanilla and maybe old books. The whole thing has you feeling flushed.

Other than that, though, it’s comfortable. It’s always been easy to talk to Spencer, which makes sense considering how much he knows about every subject imaginable, but it surprises you sometimes how easy it is not to talk to him, too. Silence isn’t awkward, with him. Neither of you say anything for the next hour or so. You just giggle at the TV and paint, wordless and companionable, and it’s the happiest you’ve felt in… longer than you care to admit.

Life is rarely perfect, especially not in your line of work, but this? This is pretty close.

As the credits start to play, you stretch, and then you look at his paper. It takes you a second to recognize yourself, but the likeness is unmistakable. Spencer’s got the exact angle of your eyebrow when you’re looking at him skeptically — apparently you do that often enough that he’s memorized the expression. He somehow managed to capture your smile, the curve of your lips, all in tiny delicate pinky-strokes of purple and turquoise… trust Dr. Spencer Reid to bring that level of precision to finger-painting, and oh god you are not going to think about his fingers any more.

“Do you like it?”

“Yeah,” you manage. You clear your throat. “Yeah, I really do.”

Then he makes it worse by rubbing the side of his neck, bashful and self-conscious, smearing blue-green paint from his collarbone to the sharp line of his jaw, and he’s so busy smiling at you that he doesn’t seem to notice. He swallows, and his Adam’s apple dips, shifting a streak of color, making it flicker. It’s such a silly thing, but it draws your attention to his skin — makes you want to touch. Worst of all, it reminds you that he’s already art, that the shape of him, the delicate precise way he’s put together, is more beautiful than anything you’ve ever seen in a museum.

It reminds you that you want some things you can never, ever have.

“You’ve got — um,” you say, gesturing helplessly. He blinks at you, slow like he’s coming out of a trance, and tucks his hair behind his ear, smearing more paint there before he remembers. You giggle, sharp and nervous, and it breaks the tension all at once. Spencer laughs too, rolling his eyes at himself. You get up clumsily to go grab a wet paper towel from the kitchen.

The moment is gone, but your heart is still racing.

“What’s next?” Spencer asks softly, once you’re both cleaned up.

He missed a tiny spot; there’s a blue smudge right at the corner of his jaw, and you want to touch it, feel it under your fingertips, see if the skin is as soft as it looks, right there where the bone stretches it thin.

“Blanket fort,” you blurt out, before you can do anything embarrassing.

His eyes light up.

It really shouldn’t surprise you that Spencer and his engineering PhD make quick work of a pile of sheets and clothespins. You’re pretty sure that he could revolutionize the entire field of blanket fort construction, if left to his own devices, but you keep poking him when he gets lost in his head or starts muttering calculations to himself. The point is having fun.

The end result is a lot more Frank Lloyd Wright than any of your childhood creations, but Spencer looks absolutely gleeful, so. It’s the spirit of the thing.

“One more thing,” you say. “Do you have any Christmas lights?”

Spencer frowns. “I don’t — oh! Wait!”

He runs to the closet, and he ends up halfway inside the closet, digging around on his hands and knees. You’re about to make a crack about Narnia when he comes out, holding up a box with a triumphant smile.

You read the label: “Halloween decorations 3 of 4.”

Because of course Spencer Reid has Halloween lights. He pulls out several long ropes of them; a couple are shaped like tiny skulls, one is strung with Jack-o-Lanterns, and two could pass as Christmas lights if they weren’t orange and purple. You help him detangle the knot of them and drape them over and through your fort, and when you turn out the normal lights and draw his heavy curtains, the whole thing glows in patches of orange and purple and white.

“After you,” you tell Spencer, and he crawls in without any more prompting.

There’s more than enough room to sit up, but Spencer is lying down on his back in the nest of blankets and pillows that you’d relocated from the couch. He’s staring up at the “ceiling” in silence, eyes glittering with some unreadable expression where they catch the twinkling shards of light. You make yourself comfortable next to him, looking up and wondering what he’s seeing.

“I always wondered what the appeal was,” he whispers. “Of blanket forts. And… childhood in general, I guess.”

“You grew up pretty fast, huh?” you say quietly.

“Yeah. And I never — I feel like most of the team doesn’t take me seriously sometimes. Like I’m still a kid to them. I always feel like I have to prove myself.”

Your instinct is to deny it automatically, but you know what he means. They laugh him off for his quirks, for the way he gets excited about things and for the things he gets excited about. That’s what’s so incredible about him, though: that dichotomy of knowledge and curiosity, the breathless excitement when he makes a discovery.

“I liked pretending I had my own little world,” you tell him. “Blanket forts. Felt like I could actually shut all the bad things out.”

“Still feels like that,” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

“Nothing wrong with acting like a child, sometimes. We need that. Even if it’s just pretend.”

“I think I get it now.”

“Hmm?”

He’s silent for a long moment before he says, “In here, everything’s perfect.”

“Or we can pretend it is.”

You turn your head to find Spencer looking at you, and he doesn’t look away when your eyes meet. You barely want to blink for fear of breaking whatever spell you’re under.

There’s something raw and earnest and almost scared shining all over his face, like you’re catching a glimpse of the child he used to be, before the world taught him to put on a brave face and keep his most intense feelings to himself. It makes you feel shaky in ways you were really not prepared for.

There’s a heavy moment of silence. You’re painfully aware of how loud your breathing sounds.

It’s a hell of a thing, to have his focus like this. You fell in love with him watching him work; you know how intensely he can devote himself to a task, to a puzzle, to a map… and every so often, when the two of you talk, he focuses all that brilliance on you, and he listens so completely that you feel his attention like a spotlight.

That’s when he usually looks away, dropping his gaze like it’s something to be embarrassed about, because too many people have told him to stop staring.

He’s not looking away now. He turns onto his side to completely face you, curling up in that sweetly childish way with his hands between his cheek and the pillow, and you mirror him.

“Feels like we’re alone.”

He’s right; there are no distractions, no excuses to be made, no interruptions. It’s just the two of you, and it’s terrifying.

“Feels safe,” you whisper, because that’s true too. Your heart is racing, and it’s like you can hear your pulse in your ears, but it’s the quietest sort of panic you’ve ever felt. “I think that was exactly what I wanted, after the last couple weeks. To get away. To feel safe.”

There’s an orange light throwing most of his face into shadow, but you can see the corner of his mouth a little too clearly. You’re maybe a foot apart. It would be so easy —

“We don’t get that often.” His voice is barely more than a breath.

“Safety?”

“That too, but —” His breath hitches, and he clears his throat. “What we want. I don’t usually get what I want, but this was — this was very close to perfect.”

“Yeah, well, when is life ever perfect?” You manage a smile. “What would make it perfect? If you could have anything.”

“It’s not something I can have, though.”

“So pretend. It’s just us, and there are no rules today. What would it be?”

He bites his lip. “I don’t think —”

“For once in your life, Spencer, stop overthinking it,” you half-laugh, and then he’s propping himself up on one elbow, shifting forward, leaning closer, close close close until he’s all you can see, and —

He kisses you.

It’s the most gentle, feather-light brush of a kiss you’ve ever felt, barely more than a graze of his parted lips over yours. It’s there, and then it’s gone again before you can even begin to process the sensation.

As your eyes flutter open you can already see the fear setting in, dark intense gaze fixed on you as he inhales sharply.

You’re still trying to remember how to breathe; you’re too stunned to react beyond blinking at him.

“I’m sorry. Can we just —” He shakes his head, hand over his mouth like he’s trying to hold onto the kiss. “Do you think we could pretend — can we pretend I didn’t do that? I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t want to pretend,” you say shakily.

He stares.

This doesn’t seem real. It’s such a strange moment that you might as well be trapped in a Dali canvas. There’s fingerpaint on his face, and he’s wearing a Captain Kirk command uniform onesie, and there’s a tiny Jack-o-Lantern glowing over his head. If you’d imagined the “perfect” moment, this would not be it.

But you reach out, running your fingertips over the dark smudge of paint on his jaw, and the skin is hot and smooth. He shivers at the touch. It’s real.

“Spencer?” Your throat is tight, but you manage a choked, “I want you to kiss me again.”

He does, with a careful hand cupped to your cheek and a smile curling his lips when they meet yours. You run your fingers through his hair, and you both laugh when they catch on dried paint.

“Perfect,” he whispers.

It really is.

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