#he will be one whole year old! my tough lil man | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bravemikhailo · 2 years

Text

I’m aware we’re halfway through january already but this was written as a lil christmas gift for my dear friend luxe 🎄❤️

3 new year’s eve kisses they never have + 2 they do

(once again inspired by one of calli’s @ianandmickeygallavich wonderful prompts 🥰)

cw: very brief mention of grooming in n.2

Something’s missing.

He’s having fun, he is. That’s his family after all, dancing and scream-singing in their living room, waiting for the clock to strike twelve.

Everyone’s here, all the people he loves–his siblings, Mandy, Kev and V, even Ethel and Karen. Everyone, but not really.

It’s fucking stupid, he knows. He should be enjoying the night with the rest of his family, get high, dance a bit, run outside with the others to set off the fireworks, watch them explode in a thousand flashes of light and then drop like a stone in his bed.

Instead he’s sitting on the couch, a cold beer in his hand and all he can think of is him. Him and his messy dark hair, that old green scarf he wears because he gets cold easily even if Mickey would never admit that. It doesn’t matter. Ian knows.

He misses him. He misses his small hands, he misses the nicknames Mickey would call him, the warmth of his body pressing against his chest and the noises that would come out of his mouth when they were alone in the back room of the Kash & Grab.

He scoffs when he thinks about it–about how stupid they’ve been. They should have been more careful, not let the fervor take over. Easier said than done.

He wishes he would be here. He knows he wouldn’t have come, even if he weren’t in juvie. But still. A guy can dream.

He wonders how he’s doing. He looked good when he went to see him just before Christmas. The same Mickey as always. Grumpy. Cute. Fucking beautiful. Maybe a bit shy. His leg’s doing better. He walked into the visiting room without his crutches, even–even though Ian knows he just wanted to look tough. Ian wasn’t certainly going to complain, it kind of turned him on, even.

He told him to fuck off the moment Ian wished him a Merry Christmas, but then the corners of his lips quirked up, and it was the cutest thing Ian’s ever seen in his entire life. He couldn’t help the smile blooming on his own face, but then the time was up and his heart sank once again as he said goodbye and got up from the chair.

Before he could get any further, though, there was a knock on the glass from behind and he turned so fast he almost tripped over his feet, hand flying out to grasp at the phone, bringing it to his ear and waiting, wide-eyed and heart threatening to burst out of his ribcage.

Mickey bit his lip, eyes downcast. “Uhm–” he mumbled, finger scratching at his cheek, and then, “Merry Christmas, or whatever.”

He can feel his heart sing now as he thinks about it, and he must be smiling like an idiot because Lip frowns at him from the armchair where he’s sitting with Karen. Ian flips him off.

Mandy comes to him then, emerging from the kitchen and reaching out a hand in his direction. He rolls his eyes but takes Mandy’s hand, and as she drags him to the dance floor and makes him twirl–he decides, then, that next year he’s going to spend this day with Mickey.

It doesn’t happen.

Mickey’s back in juvie by then. There’s no one else to blame but him, this time. No fucking old pedo taking advantage of a fifteen year old kid. Just Mickey and whatever the fuck’s wrong with him–him and the whole not-being-enough-of-a-man to kill the fucking useless drunken prick who’s miracolously managed to make one good thing in the course of his miserable life: Ian. A good thing that managed to land him here, again, nonetheless.

He guesses his dad is right after all–he is a fucking pussy. A fucking waste of space, good enough to be used as a punchbag and nothing more.

He fucking hates himself.

The lights are out, the silence fills the air, dense with uncertainty and fear. The only audible sound is the ragged grunting coming from a couple of cells nearby, his cellmate snoring from the bunk above.

Mickey turns in his bed, restlessly, the thin sheet forming a bundle at his feet, leaving his arms exposed to the cold. A shiver goes through his body, all the way up from his feet to his shoulders and he shakes, the hairs on his arms pricking up, goosebumps forming all over.

The grip on his pillow tightens.

No matter how hard he tries not to give in and think about him, it’s him his mind always inevitably circles back to.

He wonders what he’s doing. He’s probably laughing and having fun with his siblings. Gallagher’s better off without him, anyway. He should be glad to have finally gotten rid of a burden like him. No one to make him feel like shit ever again. No one to put that look on his face.

He doesn’t know what time it is. 11 pm, maybe a new year already? It doesn’t really matter. Not here, not anywhere. It never did. Mickey’s pretty sure it never will.

He thinks about last year, because apparently his brain is fucked up like that–always finds a way to make him feel like the most insignificant living being on earth. Nothing but a worm.

He thinks about Gallagher turning up here a couple of days into the new year, not even two weeks after his last visit, all laughs and smiles as always. Dorky fucker. Fucking freckles all over his face, even in the dead of winter. The mop of orange hair on his forehead. A fucking alien.

Ian hasn’t come this year. It’s not like he can blame him, really. It’s not like he expected anything less.

Yet.

He’d maybe let himself indulge in the hope that maybe, just maybe, he would understand.

Guess he didn’t.

Whatever. See if he cares.

He turns around again, faces the wall. Grabs the pillow and presses it to his face, to his ear, tries to drown out the muffled sounds so he can lay his thoughts to rest. Get some peace, at last. At least for a few hours.

Somehow, he ended up at the Gallagher house.

Thanks to a certain tall ass ginger motherfucker, who swinged by his place a couple of hours earlier, pushed him out of the door by the shoulders and dragged him out of that fucking hell.

It’s not like he had much of convincing to do, anyway. He’ll take annoying as fuck Gallaghers rather than suffocating sluts and that thing they try to tell him is his. He’s not going to buy it.

He muttered under his breath all the way to Ian’s house, trying to warm up his fucking freezing fingers.

“Maybe you should get, you know, gloves without holes in them,” Ian suggested, walking backwards in front of him. Mickey flipped him off, making him chuckle.

The sound sent a surge of warmth through his body, piercing through his heart, and he’s glad. He’s glad that Ian looks better. Still restless, but better than when he found him cocked out of his ass outside of that fucking bar.

Just a couple of months earlier Mickey had resigned himself to never feeling that kind of warmth ever again, that winter would go away but he was going to be stuck in the cold forever. Alone.

He’s glad Ian’s back.

What he’s not glad about is Ian basically dumping his ass in his living room and going to talk with his family. He wonders what the fuck they have to say to each other, given how they see one another every damn morning. Fucking Gallaghers.

So now he’s here, standing in a corner and gulping down what must be his fourth or fifth beer, he can’t be sure.

There are too many fucking people, and he hates it. He hates how it makes him feel–as if there are claws digging into his lungs and refusing to let go.

He gulps down the rest of his beer and looks around until his eyes land on Ian. The monster-like grip on his lungs loosens.

He’s wearing a blue shirt, clearly too small for him if the way it strains on his chest is any indication. Mickey swears he’d rob a fucking bank to buy him something new to wear, something that fit him.

His hair has a darker shade to it than usual, and he’s pale, paler than ever and there are faint purple marks under his eyes, but.

He’s fucking… beautiful.

His lungs squeeze again at the thought, and he hates himself for that, for thinking of another man as beautiful, but there’s not much he can do about it.

His eyes find Ian again in the crowd of dancing people in front of him. That fucking giant idiot of Kev is talking his ear off fuck knows about what, and he’s about to go look for another beer when Ian’s brother, the small crazy kid, appears in front of him, asking Mickey if he could give him a gun or something. Mickey snorts, pushing past him and pointing towards the kitchen.

Of fucking course, that’s when Ian’s other brother, the know-it-all prick, decides to come down the stairs. He stops in front of him, gives him a quick once-over. Mickey’s eyebrows shoot to his forehead.

Lip nods. “Mickey.”

“Philip.”

Then he’s gone. Thank fuck. Mickey takes a deep breath, waits for it to fill his lungs and then opens the fridge and snatches a beer.

He jumps when he turns, because Ian is standing right there behind him, leaning on the kitchen counter with his arms crossed on his chest and a small smile on his face that fades when he realizes he gave Mickey a fucking stroke.

“Jesus fuck.” He cries out, hand coming up to his heart.

“Fuck.” Ian stammers, straightening up and taking a step closer. “Sorry.”

Mickey swallows at the proximity of Ian’s body, his lips fall open but not a single word comes out. He takes a step back but he connects with the fridge and there’s nowhere else for him to go. He might have kissed Ian in a club or whatever, surrounded by people who don’t know a single thing about him, but he’s not going to kiss him in his fucking house, not when his whole family might see.

Ian seems to get it, because he takes a few steps back and the tension partially deflates from Mickey’s muscles. “Are you having a good time?”

Mickey shrugs, uncaps the bottle. “Fuckin’ fantastic.”

Ian chuckles. He looks down, grips the hem of his shirt and works it between his fingers. “It’s almost midnight.” He mumbles, and Mickey almost doesn’t hear him with all the fucking noise.

“So?”

All at once Ian’s cheeks turn a bright shade of red and Mickey fears his own do too when he gets what Ian’s suggesting. “I thought that, maybe, we…”

He doesn’t have the chance to say anything more because everyone rushes to the kitchen in that moment, shrieking and pushing at each other, and then they’re out the back door and Mickey thinks he’ll finally get a moment alone with Ian but then fucking Kev again grabs him by his shoulders and pushes him outside, not even letting Ian take his coat. Mickey sighs. He’s going to freeze his ass off.

Then he’s left alone in the kitchen, or so he thinks, because not even a minute later Lip reappears from the living room, carrying a box of fireworks, a cigarette dangling from his lips and he turns to face him as he opens the back door. “You coming?” He mutters. And then he’s gone too, not waiting for an answer.

Mickey takes the last couple of sips from his beer before making up his mind. He grabs his coat from the hanger near the door, shrugs it on, and doesn’t even think about it twice before grabbing Ian’s as well.

It’s fucking freezing outside, and he tries to play it cool when he gives Ian his coat, clearing his throat to get his attention, but not meeting his eyes as Ian takes it from him, stalking off to the opposite side of the yard as fast as he can.

He lights a cigarette as he watches Kev and Lip setting the fireworks, and then, when there are ten seconds left to midnight, everyone starts counting down, as if they were in a fucking movie or something.

His eyes look for Ian, and his heart jumps when he finds that Ian’s already looking at him, a bright smile on his face, his eyes glowing and Ian glows too. Mickey’s heart clenches, starts beating fast but his eyes never leave Ian, and when it gets to midnight and everyone bursts out in screams and laughter, Ian’s still looking at him.

“What time is it?” Ian asks as he tries to make out Mickey’s form in the darkness, standing by the door to their cell and peeking out the small enclosed window.

“Fuck if I know, can’t see for shit.” Mickey mumbles, a bored tone to his voice that makes Ian swallow hard. He hears Mickey moving in front of him, his breaths heavy and ragged. If the whole We’ve been together for almost a decade–doesn’t matter how long they’ve been separated from each other–is anything to go by, Ian’d think he’s nervous. Fuck, maybe he’s too.

They’ve had time to reconnect in every possible way, ever since they’ve found each other again–ever since Mickey appeared here like a fucking vision and Ian had to blink over and over again to make sure he wasn’t fucking hallucinating.

But things like this, serious shit–stupid romantic shit, it’s still hard, sometimes. Maybe it has to do with prison, too. Having to constantly watch their backs, hiding their real relationship in fear of someone finding out, and who the fuck knows what would happen then.

But it’s serious to him–pretty fucking serious if you ask him, and he wants Mickey to know. He doesn’t want him to doubt. Never again.

“Ok, just–” He starts, voice a whisper, scooting back in Mickey’s bunk, back pressing against the wall, the mattress squeaking under his weight. He reaches out a hand. “Just com’here.”

A faint shuffle comes from the other side of the cell as soon as those words leave Ian’s mouth, Mickey’s socked feet padding against the tiles. Then there are soft fingers pressing against Ian’s, stroking and then interlocking. The bed dips and a pair of legs, shorter and colder, find their way between Ian’s, and Ian can’t help but smile when Mickey starts rubbing his calf against Ian’s shin.

“Hey,” Ian says, letting go of Mickey’s hand only to run a hand through his hair, sliding it down to curl an arm around Mickey’s middle. Mickey lets out a shaky breath, which hits Ian right in the face but he couldn’t care less.

Mickey’s hand finds Ian’s neck in the dark, fingers softly pressing into his throat, and Ian would lie if he said the gesture doesn’t send a surge of warmth down to his cock.

“Hey yourself.” Mickey mumbles after a while, and Ian doesn’t need to see him to know he’s smiling that toothy grin of his–the one that makes his heart clench every time.

He tightens his grip around Mickey’s waist, hand finding its way under Mickey’s tank top and rubbing circles on his soft skin, thumb tracing over his shoulder blades, then down to where his back dips and holding it there.

“Our first new year’s eve together,” he says after a while, head so close to Mickey’s on his pillow, their noses bumping every now and again.

Mickey snorts. “Second.” He mutters.

“What?” He asks, but before Mickey can say anything else, he remembers. He remembers the fireworks and the way he thought his heart may explode with everything that he was feeling at the time. He remembers Mickey staring at him, bundled up in his way-too-big coat, always so cold, his face lighted up by the gleaming of the fireworks above them, and thinking he was never going to love someone as much as he loves him.

He shifts, a bit awkwardly, scooting closer to Mickey, nose pressing into the other man’s cheek. “Right.” He murmurs. “Our first new year’s eve kiss, then.”

Mickey chuckles, and his little breaths hit Ian’s face again and he closes his eyes, relishing in the feeling. He wants to feel it forever. “Who says I wanna kiss you?”

Ian snorts. “You can’t wait to kiss me.”

A breathy laugh. “God, you’re so fuckin’ full of yourself, Gallagher.”

Ian shrugs his shoulders. “Maybe.” He moves his hand away from Mickey’s back to bring his thumb to Mickey’s cheek, then down to his chin. “You still do, though.”

Mickey hums. Grabs the hem of Ian’s tank and holds him like that.

“Do you think it’s midnight already?” Ian asks, their mouths so close. He hears Mickey’s heart beating between them and it matches his own heartbeat. He’s not sure he’s going to be able to wait any longer.

“Does it matter?”

A smile creeps onto his lips. Never in a million years he would have thought that he would feel like this, in prison of all places. “No,” he mutters against Mickey’s lips. “I guess not. Com’here.”

Their mouths finally meet each other, and it’s nothing more than a press of lips, nothing heated, not yet, but it feels like a fucking milestone.

Their first new year’s eve kiss.

It’s better than anything Ian has ever dreamed of. Mickey’s lips are soft and wet against his, his hand has somehow found its way to Ian’s back and it’s now holding him close, their chests flushed together, legs tangled above the sheets.

Their lips eventually part with a smack, loud in the quiet of their cell. Mickey’s breathing heavily and Ian smooths back his hair.

“Happy new year, Mick.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He pecks his lips again. “Happy new year, Red.”

“Ok, Fran. I think uncle Mickey’s had enough.”

“One more, one more!” The kid screams from where she’s hanging on his back, little arms around his neck, and a ringing echoes through Mickey’s head as she does it right into his ear.

“Christ.” He mutters, but he grins up at Ian, looking at them from across the Gallagher’s living room, arms crossed on his chest. “No need to shout in my fuckin’ ear, lil Red.”

Ian clicks his tongue. “Mickey.”

He rolls his eyes, reaches back to grab the giggling kid and set her on the floor. The giggle promptly dies down and a frown takes place on her face. It makes Mickey smile, mainly because it resembles a certain frown he’s very much used to. He ruffles her hair.

“Later,” he says, stretching his back. “Okay, kiddo?”

She stomps her foot, tightens her fist at her side. “Now!”

He rolls his eyes again, and he’s about to cave in because he could never resist that frown, but before he can say anything, his husband’s voice echoes through the living room.

“Franny.” He calls out, approaching them. “Uncle Carl is getting the fireworks ready outside, why don’t you go help him?”

Franny is gone in an instant.

Mickey chuckles, grabs his nearly empty Old Style from the living room table. “What’s the rush?” He asks before taking a sip.

Ian gets closer, his hand coming to rest at his waist and spin him around so they’re facing each other. Mickey raises an eyebrow as Ian fiddles with the collar of his shirt.

“It’s almost midnight,” he says, a whisper only for the two of them, and Mickey’s heart jumps at the familiar words. They’ve had many new year’s eve’s together since that first one, but this, this feels big. A dejavu, almost.

He hums, grins up at his husband. “Is that so?”

Ian smiles down at him, and there it is, that look on his face again–that fondness that’s so Ian and that Mickey loves with all his being. Mickey reaches up and takes one of his hands, brings it to his lips for a quick peck, and then starts towards the back door, dragging Ian behind him.

Everyone’s already outside apparently, his family’s voices filtering through the window. His family. Who would have thought.

Ian’s hand goes straight for the door knob but Mickey stops him. “Hey.” He calls, and pushes Ian’s coat into his chest. “Bundle up.”

It’s not like he said anything big, or bad, or whatever, but Ian stops, every muscle of his body coming to a halt and he looks at him with wide eyes long enough that it begins to scare him a little bit.

“What?” He asks, a breath.

The serious look on Ian’s face doesn’t falter, not even for a second, as he declares, “I fucking love you.”

Mickey frowns, confused at the sudden outburst of affection, but when he looks down at Ian’s hands he gets it. He rolls his eyes, but a smile creeps onto his lips and he doesn’t even try to fight it. “You’re a fuckin’ sap, Gallagher.”

They chuckle as they make their way down the steps, Ian’s arm around his neck and Mickey’s curled around his husband’s waist. They join their family where they are huddled together around the fireworks, ready to be set off in a couple of minutes. Tami bumps Mickey’s shoulder as they join the circle, and offers him a beer. He feels a press of lips to his temple as he chats with Tami, and he can’t do much more but tighten his grip on his husband, his love.

10... 9... 8...

He looks at Ian when the countdown starts, and Ian looks at him and it’s all perfect–he realizes in that moment that this is what he’s always wanted, and he can’t quite believe that he gets to have it, after all. After everything.

7... 6...

He turns to look at Ian and he’s beautiful, the most beautiful person on the whole fucking planet and he can’t quite believe he’s his. Ian puts his arms around Mickey’s neck and rests their foreheads together.

5...

He slips his hands under Ian’s jacket and presses his palms to Ian’s back, rubbing them up and down, feeling every muscle, every bone, every atom that makes up his husband.

4... 3...

“I love you,” he says, and there’s nothing he’s ever been more sure of in his entire life. Ian moves his hands to palm at Mickey’s cheeks and he knows they’re cold as fuck, but he’s never felt warmer than this.

“I love you, too.” A heavy exhale. “So fucking much.”

2... 1...

The fireworks shot into the sky and burst into sprinkles of light, and Ian’s lips are soft and warm against his, and this, this is how he hopes he’s going to feel for the rest of his days.

#kind of ignored the timeline of the show. it’s not like it isn’t a mess anyway 😬#ian x mickey #gallavich #gallavich fanfic #*things i wrote #I know the new year hype has already cooled off but whatever 🙄#happy new year again 🎊💫#happy new year luxe 💞✨ hope you enjoy

124 notes · View notes

solomonish · 3 years

Text

Dork Solomon Agenda

You say sexy shady sorcerer I say nerd and love of my life

Solomon is a sad lonely little man why just wants a genuine connection us that so much to ask???

No but seriously like. It's totally fine if you hc Solomon as this man-turned-lowkey-sex-god with a million succubi and more at his whim whenever he wants and would be a tough one to put the ol' ball and chain on like to each their own for sure! But that's not MY hc

(Thats not to say my hc means he doesn't ever engage in casual sex like that and wanting a genuine long term relationship at some point [or finding out thats what you want when you meet someone] are not mutually exclusive yknow)

So like Solomon isn't the type to be short with you or keep you at an arm's length (i mean...u get what I mean. Once you're close enough and all that jazz) or get annoyed by you wanting to be affectionate?? Hello??

He LOVES the little things you do (some on accident tbh). You feeling affectionate today and give him a kiss or three on his face before you leave to go to your separate classes? Adorable, he's fallen in love again. You do that thing where you like.. forget how to walk straight and just accidentally bump into him? No come back he likes being close to you :( He doesn't SAY these things but there's a light, airy laugh he has that gives him away.

If you're ever facetiming he will say "boo!" when you connect instead of just. Greeting you like a normal person.

His fuckin. His devilgram name is monSOLO. My mans is a star wars fan!!! I dont know any of The Discourse bc I'm not super into star wars myself but he has IN DEPTH opinions about the movies. Seriously rivals Levi in this aspect. Please make time for movie nights where you watch the movies together 🥺 especially if you haven't seen them before he'd love to convert you 🥺

Didn't Solomon also have a thing for TSL??? Or am I just imagining it??

I feel like his ideal date would be exploring something new, whether its this new spooky forest or "hey have we been down this alley before? Let's check it out!" but ideal date number TWO is movie night. Even if it isn't Star Wars. He likes to sit on opposite ends of the couch throwing popcorn into each other's mouths (and big candies like peanut m&ms where you both have almost choked before) and maybe a footsie war if he's feeling real devious. Then at some point you grab a blanket and snuggle up to him and you both fall asleep on the couch

Simeon yells at him when you leave because there's popcorn EVERYWHERE

LOVES when you laugh super loud. Idk man he just thinks its great when you have such unbridled joy and then he laughs too 😊 not as loud though he's more of a quiet chuckle kind of guy (most of the time).

Is friends with Asmo so is extremely great at slumber party gossip. Catch him in his pajamas, cross-legged on the floor while clutching a pillow to his chest and listening intently to you rant about the brothers.

"Come here I have a secret to tell you" (blows air in your ear) "okay okay I'm sorry but come here again" (blows air on your neck) "okay okay last time! I actually have something to tell you. Please? Its important...." (kisses ur cheek) "like u a lil bit xo"

Never the type to send "good morning beautiful" or "good night 💞" texts. Instead he'll send you something at 4 am like "the infinite cosmos will eventually swallow whole all familiarity and life as it is now presently known and despite the adaptations humans or demons or angels could make i will still have to adapt and face the world as an alien in the realm I love so dearly. Funny how the strongest of beings bow to the whim of space and time. But sometimes my eternal journey doesn't seem so daunting when I realize that with my everlasting life will be the memory of you no matter how distant and the survival of the vessel you loved...."

And then at lunch that day when the brothers pull you away he'll send you a picture of the lasagna they're serving with "this kinda looks like you? Don't worry I'd still hit it" and then two minutes later "you not the pasta"

Is the type to think randomly "oh damn I love you so much" but has an impressive filter about it. Or he thinks he does until Luke grumbles "ugh get a room thats the fifth time you've seen that since monday" ok, sometimes he has a good filter about it

He can't help it! Sometimes you just say something really smart (or something SPECTACULARLY dumb) or you do something cute like lean on him or smile a specific way or-

Sir.....you're head over heels sir :/

The type who would go to a playground at night with you and just swing on the swings talking about life

Wants to have a secret handshake with you!!

If you're ever on a road trip with just the two of you, you can get him to join in on the terrible singing but he'll be a lot quieter than you

Also will only join in if he isn't driving. If he is and you aren't talking, he's just humming underneath his breath. Will drum on the steering wheel though

Cooking

(Yes, it gets its own section because MAYBE I'm obsessed with the idea of MC teaching Solomon to cook and the food still turning out terrible but at least it isn't a void when MC is helping)

The type to flick water at you every time he washes his hands. Will chase you down just to do it.

"Hey, tilt your head back and open your mouth MC" (proceeds to dump too big a handful of shredded cheese in your mouth)

100% the type to lean over you just to hinder your cooking abilities. Who cares if the sauce splashes he's tiiiired.... you'd let belphie do it :(

Puts a hand on your lower back when he passes behind you. Hopes you'll lean into it/step back and offer him a kiss 🥺

Believes in always having a proper table setting. Prepare for whatever juice they have (or water) in wine glasses if you're having a nice-er meal

Under the assumption that a spell ruined his sense of taste (and not that he's just bad at cooking) he hates spicy food. He can feel the burn but he gets none of the flavor??? Wack. Don't hurt him like that MC. If you do because its hilarious to watch him try to be cool about it he will pout

Gets cheesy aprons. He just likes them.

Will hit you on the top of your head with a whisk to hear the noise it makes

Will buy every kitchen hack tool there is. A ketchup dispenser that looks like a gun? He's got it. A fish that helps you squeeze out the egg yolks? Yes! A dinosaur soup ladle? You bet! Pizza scissors? A tool that makes hard boiled eggs into cubes? Something that's gotta be like 200 years old and no discernable purpose? Absolutely! He wants a hot dog toaster. Do they even have hot dogs in the devildom?

Will sneak bites just because it bothers you

Overall

Look at him. He hasn't had friends in centuries. He's playful!

Look at his DEVILGRAM NAME

His funky little WAND

This is a man who is a huge nerd, thrives off of cliches and just wants to have a good time. So let him! Its mentally exhausting having those pretenses up all the time.

#solomon #obey me #solomon fluff #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #swd obey me #obey me solomon #solomon x reader #solomon hcs #mine #swd solomon #long post #??? i think it is #mobile formatting SUCKS

489 notes · View notes

shitty17 · 4 years

Text

Rating every Gordon Freeman

Half life 1 gordon

Beloved and classic. Cannot beat the original! You gotta respect your roots. The man who started it all. He’s a tough quiet little redhead with a fun little pony tail. Fascinating design choices lead him to be a regular blank slate character who you can still pick out of the mass of similar ones by his iconic goatee and glasses. The early 90s art did a good job of showing you “this isn’t a giant beast of a killer man, this is your 40 something geometry teacher in a microwave with a gun” and that set the WHOLE precedent for Gordon’s character for me. The glasses, goatee, and defined cheek lines that seemed to be in every half life model at the time age him a touch more than 27, but if you stare at him long enough you can believe it. Plus, not a lot of detail to glean from a low poly model anyhow. His expression shows him as cool, level headed, and focused. He’s so fucking ORANGE holy shit. This is our very first Gordon! The fucking sexy SNATCHED little waist and chicken neck give him extra points for being a shitty little skinny legend. The metal diaper and looking like he’s about to give me detention because I spoke too loud in class docks tho.

9/10 Beloved classic Gordon who’s flaws can easily be waved away with “it was our first try”, and yet also make him a fun original stand out character.

Half life 2 Gordon

He is no longer my pain in the ass highschool teacher, he is now my bitchy gay college TA who rolls his eyes when the professor says some dumb shit and looks WAY too much like House MD if you get too close. Props for consistencey, this really is just a dolled up version of low poly Gordon. Still got his heavy brow and aged face creases so he looks more like a 30 something dad than a 27 y/o scientist, but that can be blamed on all the stress. Hes got bigger prettier eyes now. He’s still remaining cool and focused, but he’s getting upset. He’s getting distracted. He’s had enough already. And yet, he still finds it in himself to keep going. The new HEV is a VERY sexy little upgrade, maintaining core features such as keeping that waist cinched, and supporting his skinny chicken neck. Finally got RID of that diaper and replaced it with a stylish yet flirty dragon underbelly scale set. It do kinda give the vibe that his dick out tho, which is both hilarious and also pretty ballsy, pun not intended. The colors are not so orange now, which is good! Balanced it out with a lot of grey. Makes him easier to look at, but a little easier to glaze over. Everyone from my generation will know Gordon Freeman by these images, they’re iconic. A good medium between “a regular guy” and “rough tough white mchandsome fps protagonist”. Hairs a lil more of a pretty chestnut brown and still got that nice warm red tone to it. I can’t tell if these images are so iconic that it’s seen as the norm, or if I’ve seen this guys face so much that I’m used to it by now, but he does give off “just kinda of a mediocre guy design wise”. I like that about him. Gordon Freeman just being a regular dude is huge and important to his character. He’s been upgraded to be sleeker and cooler and that’s got him serious traction amongst fans but he falls a bit more to the “generic badass” bin with this. Still, a lot to love.

8/10: Brilliant, iconic, handsome, sleek, and cool to look at, but making him easy to sell action figures of detracts from his character. An upgrade visually but has yet to convince me that he really is as cool as he looks.

Half-life: Alyx

Sweet holy mother of Jesus Christ our lord.

Like. Where do I start. Okay I’ll start with the obvious. He’s cute now. He’s super fucking cute now. He no longer looks like Walter white. He looks like a young man. He looks like a barista you would get at Starbucks who’s voice has deepened from 5 years of T and he tells you to “have a nice day :)” in the sweetest of tones and you really do have a nice day because of it. He’s got big ole peepers now. His old man wrinkles have smoothed out. He’s got noticable birthmarks and freckles. His cranium is regular sized now instead of cartoonishly massive, making his hairline look less like it’s receding.

But also? The most important part? Even when he looks angry, even when he puts back on the cool focused serious look? Even when he tries to put on his classic badass look? It’s not convincing anyone any more. We know now. We know this is just a young man in a HEV suit. He’s not indestructible, he’s scared. Look at him. He clings to these weapons because they’re the only thing stopping everything else in the world from killing him. His brows are furrowed not because he’s pissed with blind rage, but because he has to focus and think and be careful or else he will get dropped. He’s hurt. He has taken damage to his suit. He is not indestructible unstoppable badass or the idol of freedom he’s been made out to be, he’s been sold as. This is a man. This is your friend. He needs your help as much as you need his. This in particular reflects the plight of society nowadays. In 2020, we have less and less faith in our governments and ruling classes, and the only faith we have left is feeling vulnerable and asking for help. This Gordon is relatable. This Gordon shows pain. This Gordon needs his family as much as they need him. This Gordon is being pushed too far, but he still says he can take it. This Gordon is way more badass.

They fucking nailed it. They made a perfect Gordon Freeman. I straight up could look at this dude for hours. He’s so cute I need to give him a bowl of soup and a kiss.

10/10. Unreal.

Bonus!

10000/10 if you squint Lamarrs eyes can look like Gordon’s eyebrows.

#gordon freeman #half life #my post #this took me two hours to write

2K notes · View notes

navalcriminalimagines · 3 years

Text

Lost self confidence

Anon: Can I request a lil one-shot where y/n has been on the team for a while and she put on some weight/starts feeling insecure about it and Gibbs helps her feel better? :> If not it's okay (Preferably a lot of fluff, angst & smut up to you)

Anon: Can I ask for a plus sized reader and gibbs please? I never see them :( Maybe someone says something about her weight when theyre working a case or something and he does the gibbs-legendary-elevator-conversation??? OuO

I thought those two requests work well together. Enjoy, lovely anons! ❤️

Warnings: punch, mention of blood, hurtful comments about weight

Tags: @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @madamsnape921 @specialagentastra

~~~~~

Your body changed. A lot. More than you like to admit.

You have been avoiding mirrors for a while now, but as you stand in front of it right now, only dressed in underwear, you have to face it. Your body changed and you don’t like it. Actually, you hate it.

As you look at your stomach that used to be flat, your hips that are larger, the celulitis… you can’t help but to think it’s no wonder you’re alone. Who could you attract, looking like this? Not many people and definitely not the man you wish you had. He has probably noticed how your body is different. Maybe before, you stood a chance with the man but not anymore. It’s a lost cause.

You put some clothes on and left for work.

You and your team are working on a tricky case, you are not impatient to get into the office today. But as always, you put on your best smile and pretend that everything is okay. Even though it’s most definitely not.

You skipped breakfast this morning - on purpose - but when you sit at your desk, you can see a brown bag sitting there. You look inside; donuts. Not just regular donuts, but your two favorites.

“Gibbs’s treat.” Tony lets you know.

“What’s the occasion?” you casually answer, putting the bag aside. It’s definitely a bad idea to eat them.

“No occasion. You’re just his favorite,”

You can’t help but smile at this. Not that it’s true, but it feels nice anyway. Before, you would have been happy about your boss’s attention, but not today. “Aren’t you going to eat them?”

“I’m not hungry. Do you want them?”

Tony grabs the bag before you know it. At least, you won’t have to throw them away.

You put yourself into work quickly after. You need to take your mind off your insecurities and how bad you feel about yourself. Tony tries to make casual conversation, just being his old self but as you barely answer, he realizes that something’s wrong with you. He just doesn’t know what.

“You’re staring.” You say to him, without looking up from your computer screen.

“You’re in a bad mood.” He states.

“Am not.”

“Y/N, please.” He stands up from his desk and walks up to yours. “I’m a trained investigator. Talk to me.”

“Not a chance.” You keep working, avoiding eye contact. You’re scared that he may read into you, or worse; that you may cry if he starts to ask too many questions.

“Did Gibbs get the order wrong?” He jokes. He doesn’t mean wrong at all, but it sets you off.

“Just-- leave me alone, DiNozzo.”

You practically jump for your chair, grab your laptop and walk away from the bullpen, leaving your coworker in awe. He’s not sure what just happened, but he’s more convinced that something’s really not okay with you.

You spend the next two hours hiding in the conference room. You didn’t work much, you mostly cried and felt sorry for yourself. You really hate yourself and your body right now. It’s not about gaining some weight, it’s also about how lonely you feel. You love your team more than anything, they really are like your family but when you get home at night, it’s just you. You and your thoughts. You and your loneliness.

You just want someone to get home to. Someone to cuddle, someone to love and who loves you back, someone to fall asleep with. Just someone.

You had your face buried in your arms when you heard the door opening. You look up, ashamed. Gibbs is standing here.

He closes the door behind him and walks to you. “You okay, Y/N?” he softly asks.

“Y-yeah. Just a bit tired.”

“You know, if DiNozzo pissed you off, you can tell me.”

You chuckle. “Nah, it’s nothing he did. I guess I got up on the wrong foot this morning, that’s it.”

Gibbs did let it go - for now - but you knew he didn’t buy any of it.

That is later's concern though, there is some news on the case and you need to get going. The afternoon went better; your mind was focused on the case, you didn’t have time to think of the rest. It’s only when you get back home that it hits again. Before taking a shower, you put a sheet on the big mirror in your bedroom. You don’t want to face your reflection for now.

*****

The next morning, you are in a better mood. Not entirely, you still skipped breakfast and avoided all the mirrors but you made a decision: you won’t let the team know. You won’t let them see you’re going through a tough time. It would only make things worse.

Everything’s going okay until that stupid lawyer shows up. You never wanted to see him again after hooking up with him over a year ago. He seemed nice and good looking, he flirted with you the whole time he was in the office, so when he invited you for a drink, you said yes.

Your agreement had something to do with Gibbs’s flirting with that shrink but to this day, you keep telling yourself that it hadn’t.

After a few drinks, you let the lawyer kiss you and before you knew it, you took him home and you had a one night stand.

The sex wasn’t the problem, you actually had a lot of fun. The problem was the next day.

He was gone before you woke up - still not a problem. But when Gibbs yelled at you for giving him some private information, you understood your mistake. The man had used you. While you were sleeping, he looked into your files and found the information he needed to save his client’s butt.

After that, Gibbs gave you the silent treatment for weeks. And he stopped being mad at you after you came to see him in his basement and did your mea culpa. No one ever talked about it since.

But now, the same man is standing in the middle of the bullpen. You growled to yourself before going in.

You don’t greet him at all, just sit at your desk. “Y/N? That’s you?” he says, apparently shocked.

You look at him briefly and don’t answer.

“My god, what happened to you?” he adds.

“Excuse you?” you snap.

“God, if you had been looking like this last year, I wouldn’t have been able to use you.”

His sentence feels like a punch in your stomach, it hurts. But it shouldn’t and you know it. But it still does. You stay there a moment, not knowing if you want to cry and beat the crap out of him. Probably both at the same, but you don’t move or don’t say a thing, you’re like frozen. You barely don’t notice when Gibbs pushes the man towards the elevator.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Ziva asks.

In the elevator

“Overprotective much, Gibbs?” the lawyer tries to appear confident and unafraid. He has his back against the wall, and in a second, he can hear Gibbs’s fist hitting a few inches away from his head. If the fist had touched his nose, he probably would have needed plastic surgery.

“Ever in your life, you disrespect a woman like that again, and especially--especially not Y/N.”

The lawyer made many people angry over the years, but never had he seen a man as angry as Gibbs looks right now.

“The only reason my hand is in this wall and not your face right now, is because she wouldn’t want me to get in trouble, but trust me when I say that all I want to do right now is to shoot you right in your precious parts.”

Gibbs is panting from anger. He can’t remember the last time he said that many words at once. But there’s no way that he or anyone else can disrespect you like this. Never, under his watch.

“So I’m gonna be very clear, you give that case to someone else. I don’t give a shit who, you just do it. And I don’t ever want to see your face again. Cause if I do, you’ll be so disfigured, you won’t be able to get another woman. Ever.”

“I could sue you for those threats, Special Agent Gibbs.”

“Are you planning to?”

“Maybe I am.”

“Well, in that case--”

This time, Gibbs’s fist hit the nose.

Meanwhile, in the bullpen

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Ziva asks.

“Yeah-yeah,” you clearly lie as your eyes are watering.

Your coworker isn’t buying it. She takes a step forward and hugs you softly. “Please, don’t let him get to you.” she whispers in your ear. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

Those words make you cry. You are not really buying them, but it does something to hear them. And you know deep inside that Ziva wouldn’t say something she doesn’t think.

As she keeps hugging, you can feel someone else’s arms wrapping around both of you. It’s Tony and shortly after, Tim is joining. “I think we should call Ducky. We’re going to have a crime scene.” Tony jokes to light the mood.

“I don’t want Gibbs to put himself in trouble for me.” you sadly say.

“Y/N, if Gibbs hadn’t taken him in the elevator, we would all have jumped on him.” Tim tells you. Which surprises you because Tim is the one to avoid a fight as much as he can.

“Also, the only reason I’m not asking you out is because of Rule 12.”

You are about to answer to Tony when you can hear the elevator’s doors opening. You let go of one another and watch Gibbs as he comes back to you and takes you by the hand. “Someone may have to call 911.” he tells the rest of the team.

Gibbs takes you to the other elevator, the one that leads to the lower floors, where Abby’s lab and Autopsy are. But of course, he switches the button as soon as the doors close. He doesn’t say a thing, he just hugs you tight. “Your hand is blue, Gibbs.” you cry in his neck.

“Yeah and his nose is red, who cares.” he kisses your hair. “I don’t want you to cry because of him, Y/N. And especially not because of what he said.”

“But Gibbs--”

“Not ‘but’, Y/N. Look at me.” he softly grabs your chin with his non-injured hand and forces you to look into his eyes. “You may not believe me right now, but you’re beautiful, Y/N. Sexy. Hot.” you uncontrollably shake your head, not buying a word he says. “I know I’m not the best with words, so I’ll let my actions speak.”

Gibbs ducks his head just a bit and closes the gap between his lips and yours. He softly kisses. You probably have never been kissed this softly before. Gibbs is so gentle and tender, his lips move slowly but expertedly. You’re literally melting under him.

The kiss may have lasted for minutes, hours, you don’t really know. You lost track of time, as if the world had stopped spinning.

“I’m sorry I waited for something like this to happen to do it. I’ve wanted this for a very long time, Y/N.”

“Me, too, Gibbs. But I’m not sure that’s the best time. I’ve lost all self confidence and--”

He kisses you again, undoubtedly to make you shut up. “I’ll help you find it again. I wish you could see yourself through my eyes.”

You rest your forehead against his, some tears are still rolling down your cheeks. “You’re not bad with words.”

“I’m still better with touch.”

#jethro gibbs imagine #leroy jethro gibbs x reader #gibbs x reader #jethro gibbs x reader #jethro gibbs #gibbs #leroy jethro gibbs #agent gibbs #ncis #ncis imagines #ncis fiction #ncis fanfic #tony dinozzo #ziva david #Tim McGee

229 notes · View notes

mojjisxng · 3 years

Note

hi! idk if req are open but can i request an nct 127 reaction where their idol s/o is maybe on the same variety show as them? :) ty!

here you go <33

i haven’t written for nct in sooooo long, so this feels good. i hope you guys enjoy this :D

this is just nct 127 acting like five year olds in front of the cameras, all because of their gorgeous s/o. i did get a little carried away with haechan’s, especially with making him into a huge menace (affectionate) <33

reaction under the cut

taeil

oh lord, i just know that he’d be nervously laughing, which makes things slightly awkward, but absolutely hilarious for the audience. the hosts are just thinking ‘wtf is up with him’, while you, his members and your members are trying not to giggle at how flustered he is that you’re both on the same show together. nctzens just make tons of comments like ‘taeil isn’t making his feelings for y/n totally obvious or anything 👀💀’, and ‘he looks like he’s about to pass out wtf.’

johnny

johnny would be all up in your personal space, if you had to do any physical activities. let’s just say you miraculously got paired up together and he had to guide you to a specific place while you’re blindfolded, best believe that he would be basically back hugging you the whole time. you two would be giggling together and acting all cute, making it totally obvious that there’s something going on between you both. fans would definitely trend something like ‘#johnny gets bitches?’ 💀💀

taeyong

at first, everything is going smoothly, and you’d think that taeyong is just going to act like a normal human for the duration of filming. that is until one of the hosts picks up on your boyfriend’s sneaky glances of you, and then he shrivels up into a blushing, stuttering mess. “what’s so interesting about y/n huh?” all of the blood rushes to the poor man’s face, “n-nothing, i mean w-what are you talking about?!?!” 👀👀…and it was all going so so well.

yuta

now yuta would actually manage to act like a functional human being. the filming would go very smoothly on his part. he would answer any questions he was asked, take part in all the activities and interact very well with you and the rest of your group. the only tell-tale sign that anything was going on between you two, would be the myriad of compliments that he would throw your way. “wow y/n did amazing in that last challenge, they’re such a fast runner and they still look stunning afterwards.” starting to look a lil sus there yuta.

doyoung

we would all like to think that doyoung is another sensible man for the most part. however, sometimes he won’t even look your way because he thinks the fans will catch onto the fact that you’re dating, yet this just makes him look so awkward. everyone is just thinking ‘wtf’, while you’re sat there facepalming. the paranoid look does not look good on doyoung, mans is sweating and acting shifty asl. the comments are definitely things like ‘my guy is fighting for his life out there.’ if anyone tries to criticise you on the show though, he is the first one to jump in and defend you.

jaehyun

i think that jaehyun would try to act composed like yuta, and he would succeed at the beginning of the filming process, but it would gradually descend into him giggling to himself just because you’re also on the variety show with him. he would honestly start behaving like a naughty school child, making him look a little insane. jaehyun would be thinking something like ‘omg i know some things about y/n that all these people don’t hehehe. *internal gasp* I’M SPECIAL.’ meanwhile, everyone is so concerned with how he’s acting, but no one says a thing. nctzens make some of the funniest looking clips go viral and caption them stuff like ‘he was either going through a high fever, or he was literally just high.’

jungwoo

throughout the variety show, jungwoo spills so much information about you, honestly not giving a fuck about what anyone thinks. when the hosts ask how he knows so much about you in those patronisingly teasing voices, he just answers “well we’re *smirks at you* really close so i have loads of stories about them, and of course…i’M tHeIr BiGgEsT fAAAAn!!!!” the embarrassment that flows through you, from head to toe, is unbearable, which is why you decide to have your own fun. you tell almost every embarrassing story you can think of about jungwoo. the variety show has now turned into a battle of humiliation…good luck, you’ll need it.

mark

let me introduce you to giggling five year old #2, a.k.a mark lee. every single time he catches your eye, he bursts out into fits of giggles, but no one questions it because 1. if they’re the members, they know about you and mark, and 2. literally everyone is used to mark laughing at anything and everything. the thing is, you’re exactly the same as mark, so the pair of you are crying with laughter in the corner, completely immobilised by your own idiocy, while everyone else is doing the tasks and interviews. but ermmmm at least you two are happy.

haechan

bestie, i’ll be honest with you, this is a tough time for you, not haechan, just you. that’s because this man will do anything to tease you and make you blush…at this point he’ll probably make you pass out from embarrassment. he’ll make a huge show of it too, flouncing about and making theatrical gestures, when telling the most embarrassing stories about you. “and then *flails is arms everywhere* they TRIPPED, in front of who you ask?!?!?!?! LEE SOOMAN HIMSELF!!!!!!!” *pretends to faint, very dramatically*. haechan will also not hesitate to straight up smack a massive smooch right on your cheek in front of the cameras, revelling in the shocked look on your face and the way you want the ground to swallow you up. he will get his ass beat by you and all of the nct management team after filming. what can i say…stay safe soldier 🧍‍♀️

198 notes · View notes

i-make-fun-of-spn-characters · 3 years

Note

I feel like you've given most spn related things some lil spice but I always love the spice on this : hot spicy take on the "Dean is the most horrible character and ruins everyone's life and Sam and Cas are poor little meow meows who only do bad things sometimes because tyran Dean farted in their direction" takes that are not really only said by anti-Dean peeps ? Obsessed with that incredible thesis and would love the added spice ❤

SPICY HOT HOT GHOST PEPPERS CAROLINA REAPERS HELP I'M BURNING

I really try to respect other people’s opinions, and I believe there are a wealth of ways to interpret a story, and I think that’s a deeply beautiful thing. This applies to interpretations I don't agree with and outright dislike as well. That said, some opinions are simply and objectively bad, dishonest, and/or demonstrably false, and I truly do not believe you can sit down and honestly watch through the show with an open mind about all the characters, truly pay attention to what they do, say, and believe, and come to the conclusion that this show is about an evil manipulative abusive man terrorizing his pure and sinless brother and friend. It is an interpretation built from cherry picking facts to suit an ugly, miserable theory, making Mount Everest out of a bunch of the tiny mole hills, making the worst possible presumptions of feelings and intentions, and holding characters to completely different standards in order to neatly divide them into "abused" and "abuser" in a way that, frankly, fetishizes the abused person. I despise this interpretation of the story with every fiber of my being, and I have absolutely no respect for the opinion of anyone who peddles it, regardless of who they cast as villain/victim (because people have also done this with the others—it’s just more “popular” to do it with Dean... I mean... does anyone else remember how people were shitting on Sam after his emotional reaction in 14.12? Calling him an evil abuser? Because I do).

The thing that always gets me about this take isn't just how dishonest, unfair, mean-spirited, and compassionless it is in its treatment of Dean’s feelings, circumstances, and intentions... but how deeply reductive and offensive it is toward Sam and Castiel, sucking away their identities to turn them into effigies to mourn for their sad, Stockholm syndrome-esque attachment to their "abuser". Further, it grips the heart of the show—the relationship between Sam and Dean, and then the relationship among TFW as a whole—in a tight, uncompromising fist and pulverizes it. It literally rips out the heart of the show (the RELATIONSHIPS) and replaces it with something unprepossessing of any merit: A miserable, 15 years long story about a malicious abuser getting away with terrorizing those closest to him for his entire life, while his poor abuse victims suffer through until they die for him/happy to be reunited with him because they “don’t know any better” and never ever learned better, I guess. What a stupid, sad sack of a story.

Castiel is a thousands of years old celestial being who has literally beaten Dean into the pavement under no form of mind control, and has shown over and over again that he will do whatever the hell he wants, regardless of whatever Dean thinks about being sidelined. If he thinks whatever he is doing is in Dean's best interest, he literally does not care how Dean feels about it. He will nod and smile and then fly off and swallow thousands of souls with Dean begging him not to, shove Dean out of the way to attack the big bad, leave Dean alone in Purgatory, refuse to come out of Purgatory so he can self-flagellate, fly off with the angel tablet, help Sam with the Book of the Damned, let Lucifer possess him without anyone's knowledge or agreement, come into Dean's room under the guise of apologizing for ghosting him so that he can steal The Colt out from under his pillow and murder someone, decide not to murder that person and still prevent Sam and Dean from helping by knocking them both unconscious, get himself killed, make a deal to trade his life for Jack's and never tell anyone, hide information and worries and ignore phone calls, ghost Sam and Dean, and bicker and fight with Dean as if they are a married couple. Love sickness and feelings of worthlessness (which Cas has a wealth of reasons to feel—many of which aren’t even related to Dean but to his heavenly family) are reinterpreted as the result of some sort of constant, terrorizing emotional abuse. Power and authority that Dean does not actually have is forced into his hands by these fans. Maybe listen when Cas says, “Hey—not everything is your fault.” Maybe listen when he says “I loved the whole world because of you”, calls Dean a role model, says he enjoys their conversations, offers to die with him and dies for him multiple times. Maybe treat these feelings as genuine and valid and HIS and not as the delusions of some poor manipulated baby.

Sam is framed this way even more often than Cas, and it's a damn shame, because what I typically see is this: Sam’s development into a mediator and peacemaker is twisted and reinterpreted as coming from a place of weakness and/or fear. Rationality, maturity, wisdom, and compassion are not the traits of a scared, powerless child. They are the traits of a mature adult, who has been beaten down by life, and fought and raged against his circumstances, and somehow come out of it with more kindness and understanding and strength instead of less. He has made his own decisions whenever it was possible, within the set of circumstances doled out to him. From telling his dad to go fuck himself and going to college, to getting back into hunting to avenge Jess (NOT because of Dean—Dean took him home without complaint at the end of the woman in white case), to continuing to hunt after their father died because he wanted to feel close to him (Dean was actually weirded out and sort of disgusted by this), raging and fighting to save Dean from his deal against Dean’s wishes, continuing to hunt and working with Ruby (directly against Dean’s dying wish), drinking demon blood, jumping in the cage, leaving hunting to go be with Amelia, coming back to hunting to save Kevin, fighting with Dean over what he had with Amelia and threatening to leave if Dean didn't shut his mouth, leaving Amelia to go back to hunting (Dean ultimately suggests he go back to her—Sam chooses to stay), trying to kill Benny, demanding to be the one to do The Trials and saying he is going to SURVIVE them—that being the ENTIRE POINT, losing that resolve in a fit of depression but choosing to drop the knife, demanding space from Dean (and being given it), fighting to save Demon Dean who didn’t want to be found or saved, using the Book of the Damned against Dean’s wishes, telling Charlie that this is what he wants—that he used to want normal but now all he wants is to hunt with Dean and that he doesn’t know what he’ll do if he can’t have that, unleashing the Darkness in his desperation to keep Dean with him and even saying, “I would do it again” in the aftermath, saving the town being destroyed by Amara, getting into The Cage with Lucifer, leading a team against the British Men of Letters, nurturing Jack, punching Dean in the face when he was going to sacrifice himself, leading more hunters, wielding a gun against Chuck... and that’s just some highlights. Sam Fucking Winchester does not need your bullshit about him being some sad, scared, helpless baby lorded over by mean old Dean who has never let him do anything he wants.

Yes, in the text itself, there is jealousy and resentment at times, and there is legitimate and righteous anger on Sam’s part on a few occasions. There is blame cast on Dean by Sam for some of these choices/circumstances. Some of those moments where Dean is blamed are legitimate, and some of them... frankly, are not. Within the framework of the fucked up dynamics of the way they were raised, Sam and some fans bristle when they feel Dean is casting himself as the parent he is not, but Sam also has been guilty in the past of trying to reframe himself as Dean’s child when things got tough. Neither of them is responsible for the origin of that dynamic, but they BOTH have responsibility to change it, and they both, ultimately, succeed in doing so. For Sam, his part comes in recognizing and learning to fully own his own choices. Recognizing that he is not a child, and he is certainly not Dean’s child, and it isn’t just “Mummy—loosen the grip”, but Sam has to too—not claim independence only to blame Dean for his choices when his own decisions have an ultimate outcome he is unhappy with. That is a legitimate arc that Sam goes through imo, but he comes out the other side of it, and he and Dean relate to each other much better as peers from then on—and I’d like to note that throughout the entire series, when they don’t relate as perfect peers and teammates, it isn’t always Dean “bossing Sam around”, but Sam also trying to sideline Dean and yes—boss him around. And when they lied and hurt each other and yes, even manipulated each other, Dean most certainly wasn't always the one doing the lying and hurting and manipulating. Always, always, ALWAYS, they both had an understandable point of view, and it was complex, and you could understand why they made the choices they did, even if you thought of those choices as being wrong ones.

I also would like to point out (because this is basically what I see all of the time) that Dean being hurt by someone or simply voicing his feelings or opinion is in no way abusive or manipulative. Dean is certainly charismatic and loved and his returning love and respect is often deeply desired, but he is not an actual siren, who bends people to his will simply by speaking or being. People are, in fact, able to tell him “no”, and frequently FREQUENTLY do. Further more, no one is owed his affection, his unwavering loyalty, or his trust. He has a right to his boundaries, regardless of if it makes some poor sad sap feel deprived of the “wellspring of coveted love” while he works through things. He can be hurt and angry, and he can wear his heart on his sleeve at times, and he can be flawed, and broken. [Insert Castiel's speech from 15.18 here]. So can Sam. So can Cas. None of them are manipulating each other by virtue of getting angry, feeling hurt, being traumatized, needing space, or having differing opinions or feelings. Sam didn’t punch Dean in the face in 14.12 because he's a cruel, manipulative abuser trying to force Dean under his thumb. He didn’t work behind Dean’s back with Ruby, insist on doing The Trials, beg Dean to use Doc Benton’s alchemy, use the Book of the Damned to cure Dean, pump him full of blood to cure him of being a demon despite the fact that it might kill him, or scream at him and fight him for wanting to get in the Ma’lak box because he “doesn’t respect his autonomy” and “wants to control him” and “doesn’t respect his right to his own body”. He did it because he loves him desperately, and Dean could stand to fucking hate himself less, and he fiercely wanted Dean to live even when Dean didn’t want to or couldn’t picture what that could be like. He didn’t force Dean to do anything simply by opening his mouth to voice disagreement and swaying Dean when he did so. Now reverse that.

Cas didn't beat Dean into the ground in season 5 because he wanted to terrorize him into never going against Castiel ever again. He didn’t go behind his back dozens of times, sideline him, go MIA, all because he wanted to manipulate and control Dean and punish him. He didn’t throw sassy remarks at him to shatter his self-esteem. Now reverse that.

*Breathes*

Anyway, fuck "X is abusive” interpretations.

#being serious for 5 seconds #RANTING RANTING RANTING #spicy spicy ghost pepper extract #mail

126 notes · View notes

passionesolja · 2 years

Text

Why Dio Brando Would Beat Sidious’ Ass

It’s time to give a standing ovation to the baddest bitch I know. To the baddest bitch I’ve known since 2016. I got love for Sheev after getting back into Star Wars in 2020 again after years of growing out of it. But I literally think I only projected my liking of Dio Brando onto Sidious because Sidious is the closest villain we get to Dio in Star Wars. It’s time for me to give the blueprint his flowers

Swag

This ain’t a debate. I’m sorry Sheev but your swag trash as fuck and look like a damn goth potato sack. Dio out here in 1980s Egypt no fucks given he wearing a cape, heart accessories, and looking like a buff wasp. I gotta give this to the true king of swag.

Who Killed They Daddy With No Outside Influence

Dio had NO ONE in his ear when he poisoned Dario to death at 12 years old. Dio had no one in his ear when tried to poison George Joestar at 22 years old.

Now with Dario, it’s justified like sweetie I think you’re the worst immoralist bitch in jojo but you get a pass for Dario. Fuck Dario, I’ll gofundme you the poison for Dario’s terrible ass.

But with George? Cmon now, you really tryna get this inheritance so bad that you try to do sweet ole George Sr in? Dio, that just cold as a mf. Shame on you for that, bitch ass mf.

With Sidious, you gotta understand that he was kinda a lil bitch about it until Plaguies came along. Sidious was MISERABLE tryna not to get cut off from the family wealth even though he and his daddy despised each other.

Sidious WOULD NOT have murdered his whole family and father unless Plaguies had planted those seeds in his mind.

That’s why I gotta give it to Dio again because Dio is more naturally about intentional and planned out homicide than Sheev was (prior to Plaguies).

Who Would Bully Who As Kids

Dio Brando would have made Sheev Palpatine’s life an absolute living hell if Dio was born into Star Wars.

We don’t know what Sheev was doing in his youth but we know what the fuck Dio was doing.

Personally, with sheev I have a suspicion that he was a normal, but somewhat rebellious tween.

Meanwhile, Dio Brando is kicking Jonathan’s dog for no reason, throwing dogs in furnaces as revenge, stealing girl’s first kisses, tryna punch Jonathan Joestar’s eye out, nearly stabbing JoJo to death, turning JoJo’s own father against him (because Dio wanted that inheritance), poisoning his own father to death, etc.

This man isn’t even in high school yet and he’s acting like this.

You put Dio Brando as the kid that the Palpatine’s are taking in, and Sheev Palpatine is gon be Jonathan Joestar 2.0.

Who Was Actually Born Evil

This will be my most controversial take:

Sheev Palpatine was not born evil. He was born a dickhead but we never even get the impression that he meant to run over those two people. Only that he didn’t care.

Sidious was a child from a wealthy but somewhat troubled home who was manipulated by Plaguies and molded by him. Plaguies was in this poor teenager’s ear being like “ayo kill ya family slime 😈👹 I killed my siblings for self determination 😉 ahah no I didn’t I’m lying to you”

No one can deny that Dio Brando had a very tough life, but when you’re out here stealing a girls first kiss, getting your ass beat for it, then throwing the dog of the person who just rightfully beat your ass in the furnace to burn alive? Yeah dawg you just evil. This is just in the first few episodes we see him. I could write a whole book on everything hes done.

When Dio becomes a vampire, he killing all types of people, killing George Joestar to become a vampire, turning whole villages into vampiric experimentation abominations, taking the body of your surrogate brother then being a city boy of the century in the 1980s, attacking Holly Joestar, killing off half the stardust Crusaders, etc etc etc.

Keep in mind, he doing all this with no evil mf above him reaching him the evil ropes.

I can give Sheev Palpatine sympathy for his fuckshit because he didn’t understand what the fuck Plaguies was forcing him into. Yeah, Plaguies forced him because he knew Palpatine zipped everybody in his family.

Sidious was a victim of the Sith Order bullshit for decades before he became the boss bitch who victimized others.

Dio Brando is an victim for 12 years of his life then becomes the worst, most despicable bitch on the planet in the jojo verse. The ripple effect of Dio’s terrible actions that he chooses to do on his own are felt for years.

Dawg, Dio Brando is fucking up poor Okuyasu Nijimura’s whole life in Japan in the 1990s when dude never even met Dio. And also, Dio been long dead

This man is literally fucking up Jotaro Kujo’s daughters whole life via proxy too and they never even met.

Conclusion

So yeah this why I gotta take the bad bitch crown from Palpatine. I’m sorry dawg but the evil British vampire king is back

10 notes · View notes

theroomofreq · 3 years

Text

bemused friendship

Wishing the happiest birthday to the love of my life, @mppmaraudergirl !! I cannot express how grateful I am for your friendship and kindness.

here is a snippet of the fic I am writing for you and will hopefully finish soon. love you dearly xx

Lily slammed her bookbag down onto a desk, the sound reverberated loudly inside her head. She hoped the noise ricocheted purposefully into the chest of her desk mate. Lily Evans wanted the person next to her to know she was hell-bent on living up to a challenge.

What challenge, you ask?

A challenge presented to her by two incredibly frustrating Gryffindors, two Gryffindors who didn’t realize the precarious situation of going against Lily Evans and her intensely stubborn personality.

Did Lily know what class this was? No, and it was completely irrelevant to the task at hand. Did she remember anything from the time it took her to storm into the classroom? Very little, which shouldn’t be of much concern to anyone, thank you very much. Was she here with a very firm mindset on what was to be done? Absolutely.

Rather than setting anything out on the desk, Lily simply grabbed the end of her bag and shook out the contents. Her inkwell, quills, parchment, books, and chapstick clattered along the desk, ringing like the blood in her ears. Lily planted herself unceremoniously in her seat and pushed her bookbag off the edge of the table and onto the floor where it laid in a crumpled heap.

“Always wonderful to have such a happy desk mate.” James quipped, his voice dripped with sarcastic charm.

“Do not start with me, Potter.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, especially as you are already having such a wonderful morning.”

“I was until very recently, thank you.”

“Evans, might I remind you. You were the one to grace me with your cheery disposition this fine morning.”

Lily turned to face him and rolled her eyes as far back in her head as humanly possible. “I know. But I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

James furrowed his brows and looked around the room where half the class had yet to show up. He nodded and spoke again, “hmm, yes, slim pickings.”

The way he smiled sent her stomach rolling. Merlin. She really was running short on patience, wasn’t she? Lily dropped her head down on the table, her face pressing into the objects haphazardly strewn across the desk. As her inkwell crushed into her cheekbone Lily wondered how exactly she got herself into this disaster.

Oh. That’s right. Sirius Black and Remus Lupin.

approximately 10 minutes earlier.

“You know, I will hate myself later for saying this, but - really you’d get along great.”

Lily’s gaped like a pureblood Slytherin who’d just been told his cherished family pedigree was fabricated.

“Are we still talking about the same bloke here?”

“Tall specky git, with his hand permanently stuck in his hair? James Potter, my best mate? Yeah, I think we are.”

“Potter and I would not make good friends, Sirius.”

“Trust me, love. If you only gave the poor boy a chance.”

“A chance? A chance for what exactly?”

Sirius’ lips curled into a charming smile. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Lily rolled her eyes at the way Sirius leaned back against the wall, eyes bright with mischief after his little question. The busy halls of Hogwarts before the first morning class were a dull buzz behind her. At the moment all she could be bothered with was her classmates who called her over to chat. Unfortunately, their little discussion had turned into complete nonsense about Potter. And now it seemed her fellow Gryffindor was pleased as punch to kick back against the tall castle walls and press her buttons. Buttons that immediately bristled at any mention of James Potter. Lily let her eyes dance over to the second boy who folded and unfolded a rough piece of parchment in his hands.

“Translate please?”

Remus sighed like an older man who spent most of his days kicking teenagers off his lawn. He pushed the sleeves of his off-white collared shirt up onto his scarred forearms. His eyes connected with Lily’s and his lips twitched, but only barely.

“Why, Lily. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you might be curious about our James.”

Sirius released a bark of laughter before he stepped forward and clapped Remus on the shoulder. “It seems that way, doesn’t it, Moony?”

“The only thing I am curious about is how his neck can support all that ego knocking around his head.”

“You’ll have to get up close and personal to see that, Lils.”

“Think that might be the point, Moony.”

Lily placed her hands on her hips in the way that one commonly does when dealing with 16-year-old boys who refuse to cooperate with any type of logic.

“The point being that Potter and I will not become friends.”

“Perhaps you are right this round,” Sirius said with an air of nonchalance.

“Lily is always right, Sirius.”

“Think of it, Moony. If they spent one day of classes together-”

“Lily would absolutely hex Prongs by the end of it.”

“We’ve all been there of course.”

“The two of you are headed into hexing territory as well.” Lily snapped.

Sirius and Remus smirked wickedly at each other. One smirk was bright and daring, the other was small, subtle, and calculated. Lily couldn’t be sure which one was most dangerous, but she had a feeling that the two combined were far worse than just one.

“Well, Padfoot.” Remus quipped, eyes trained on Lily. “Really, anyone could tough through one day of classes with James. But, who could last a whole week?”

“By my count? Only three.” Sirius said as he propped an elbow on Remus’s shoulder. “Not counting you, Evans.”

“I’m not falling for this. I know what you two are plotting. And stop winking at me, Sirius Black.” Lily said.

“Regardless of whether you know what we are doing, the offer stands.” Sirius retorted quickly.

“A week with Potter? Sounds like less of an offer and more of a death sentence.”

“Would you rather it be a bet? Perhaps a dare?”

“I’d rather you waste someone else’s time with your ‘marauding’ nonsense.” Lily wondered if the quotation marks she made in the air gave off enough sass to show her overall distaste for her situation.

Sirius stepped away from Remus and resumed his original position against the wall, his leg propped up behind him and his arms crossed over his body. His words bounced their way through her brain as his stance created a deeper sense of annoyance in her chest.

“Of course it’s nonsense. But it doesn’t change the fact that you are curious about our James. Or that you desperately want to prove us wrong.”

The glint in Sirius’s eyes paired with Remus’ raised eyebrows sent Lily over the edge. The edge referring to the completely mad way she stormed out of their presence and tearing off to class.

Death sentence, bet, dare, and challenge aside, Lily absolutely could not be friends with James Potter.

#jily #jily fic #6th year jily #my writing #mppmaraudergirl

82 notes · View notes

truglori · 3 years

Text

Homebody (Ch.2)

Summary: Amiyah is the younger sister of local drug dealer (Durkio). Shy and reserved she keeps to herself and stays out the way. But lately she began to find interest in his right hand man/ best friend (Erik Stevens). Wanting to get him to notice her she discovers that he already had her wrapped around his finger without even trying! There was only a few problems that kept her away from her fantasies , her brother that controlled almost every single breath she took and would kill anyone who looked at her that way and lastly Eriks girlfriend, Alexis , who they called the queen of the hood according to her lavish lifestyle as well as being with the next newest top boy in the making. While Alexis was his girl to the streets all Amiyah wanted to do was be his Homebody...

Pairing: Erik Stevens x Thick Black OC

Warnings: Language

“Girl and when did all of this go down again?”

Amiyah laughed as she told her best friend , Kelley, about what took place between her and Erik. Kelley was someone who she met when she first started working at the boutique at the age of nineteen. She was only two years older than her. One day they decided to go get lunch together and found themselves hitting it off and have been inseparable since. Now they were two years strong into their friendship.

“I told you about three night’s ago. You would’ve known earlier if you would actually come to work.” She replied smartly while placing a jacket back on to the rack.

“And why am I just now hearing about this? You act like you can’t call me or text me.”

“Well that’s because I wanted to tell you in person to see your face when I tell you this part...He said that he was going to try and start approaching me more because we don’t speak to each other enough.” Amiyah couldn’t contain her smile.

“Are you serious?” Kelley’s mouth dropped. “Wait where was your brother during all of this?”

“Oh um I think he was in his car. Why?”

She shook her head. “Mmm that explains it.”

Curious to know Amiyah stopped folding the shirts. “Explain what?”

“That niggas only want to get bold when they get you alone. Never tough enough to do that shit in front of people. You know that was one of the reasons why I stopped fucking with Tony.” She spoke about her ex.

“First off you and I both know that Erik is nothing like Tony. That nigga was different and I don’t think he’s scared to say it in front of everyone...it’s just you know how my brother can be.”

“Overprotective.” They stated in unison.

“I know you like him sis but just be careful. You know dealing with his situation. Can’t be running around here being nobody’s side piece no matter how fine they are.”

“I’m not anybody’s anything. I’m just telling you what went down between us and you don’t know how someone relationship look like behind close doors.” Amiyah expressed becoming offensive.

Kelley playfully rolled her eyes dropping the topic while taking snap chat pictures by the register. Our manager, Rhonda, walked out of the back office with a clipboard catching her in act. She went up to her taking her phone pointing it at her.

“Kelley I don’t pay you to sit here on your phone lil girl. Do some work now before I make you clock out and send you home.”

Placing the phone down in front of her, Rhonda went back to doing inventory check.

“Not you acting like you my mama.” Kelley mumbled before going over to help Amiyah with the last of the restock.

They both mocked her words before silently laughing amongst one another. It wasn’t too long before they heard the bell on the front door signaling that there was new customers coming in. They turned their heads to see who it was.

“Hello, welcome Bella Ella’s ladies. If you need help finding anything don’t be afraid to ask these young women over here to help you.” Rhonda smiled at the group of four before disappearing back into her office.

Walking over to stand next to Amiyah, Kelley whispered in her ear.

“Aw shit ain’t that ole boy girl?” She turned to face her best friend finding the answer she was looking for by the expression on her face. She shook her head heading back to the register.

It was Alexis. Erik’s somewhat “girlfriend”. No she didn’t think that out of jealousy because there was some truth behind it. From all the conversations that she eavesdropped on between her brother and Erik, Alexis didn’t really hold a title like she thought she did. According to Erik she was just ‘fun for now’, whatever that meant. Alexis wasn’t anyone new around the block. She had her share of men who had some money and power to go along with it. With the pretty face that she had and the body to match it wasn’t hard for her to climb her to the top where the money was. Most niggas in the hood would love to be seen with a girl like her on their arm.

“Yeah.” Amiyah spoke softly to herself as her mood shifted a bit.

“Y’all need to help me find something. Tonight is date night with Erik. We do this every Thursday.” Alexis held up a sweater crop top as she spoke to her friends modeling it in the mirror.

Placing the last shirt on the shelf Amiyah picked up the empty box along with the plastic contents inside. Walking to throw it out in the back she was stopped in her tracks when she heard her voice.

“Amiyah? Right?”

She turned facing Alexis who had a huge smile on her face showing her pearly white veneers.

Amiyah smiled putting her attention on her. “Yes, how are you?”

“I’m good girl I’m just here because me and my baby are going out on a date tonight and I need to find something fast. I heard a lot about this store and I came through to put it to the test. Please tell me y’all have something.” Alexis clasped her hands together in hopes that her mans best friend sister could find her a fit for tonight.

“Sure. Do you know if you guys are going to be out and about or staying in one location? The weather keeps dropping these days and you don’t want to be cold.”

Putting her feelings aside Amiyah went to work helping her.

___________________________________________________

It was around two in the afternoon when Erik got a call from his friend to meet up for lunch. Checking his fit his eyes met with the gold chain resting on top of his crisp black tee paired with black jeans and a pair of white and navy blue Nike 1’s. Throwing over his long gray fleece he sprayed on his Mont Blanc Legend before heading out the door of his condo.

Twenty five minutes was the time it took for him to pull up at the restaurant and meet up with Durkio, who was already enjoying an appetizer. Walking past the hostess he gave a head nod assuring that he was taken care of, he greeted his friend.

“Damn nigga you had to start without me huh?” Erik dapped him up before taking off his jacket and sliding in the booth.

“Nigga that’s because every time I call yo ass it take you a whole hour to get here. I hate that shit. I don’t know who’s worst you or Miyah.” He stated going back to eating his mango grilled shrimp.

Erik smirked shaking his head.” Anyways what’s up with you?”

“Nigga I got a fucking problem that’s what’s up.” Durk finishing the last of his food before pushing his plate aside. He grabbed his napkin wiping off the remnants of the quick meal.

“Oh yeah with who?” Erik turned towards the waitress giving her a small smile after she sat down his water.

“Can I get you started with anything?” Clicking her pen she prepared to take his order.

“Not right now sweetheart, thank you.” Erik gave her a smile revealing his deep dimple.

Flustered from his looks she nodded quickly putting away her pad. “Alrighty, let me know when you’re ready.”

“Damn nigga you tryna fuck on her too or sum?” Durkio smiled sipping his cognac.

“Don’t worry bout where my dick go and tell me about this problem you got.”

“Aight so check it out. You remember how I was telling you how I’m trying to get more products right. Like I’m really gonna be out here next up on a different level and shit. I found a connect who need a distributor in this area.”

“Okay so what’s the problem with that?” Erik sat up waiting to hear what’s going on.

“The problem is Shawn and his people already moving some shit out here. Just found out today. I was been supposed to take his ass out but I been to busy looking for a plug. But that’s not the case. Ole boy Don put me up on game where that nigga stash at. Word is he holding a million somewhere not to far from here.”

Erik figured where this was going once he heard his best friend say he was already thinking about taking someone out. He wanted him to hit a lick for him. That was the reason for this whole meet up. No, Erik wasn’t a drug dealer but he wasn’t clean either. This is what he did from time to time to make money. He would rob people. It wasn’t something that he was proud of but it was a job that kept him well fed when he was out on his own by the age of sixteen. He started out doing a few here and there with one of the boys, Tray, who he met in foster care then eventually Erik found himself doing them alone. With his quick skills and knowing how to tote a gun it became second nature for him.

Which after a while got him caught up but was also the reason he met Durk when he was just only twenty years old. Erik was out doing a job one night that Tray told him about. It was supposed to be some quick in and out job but turned out to go in a different direction.

Erik began putting the ski mask on his head so that it would be easy to pull down for when it was time to go. He sat on the passenger side of an all black Nissan waiting for the right moment. It was about two in the morning.There was three guys sitting on the front porch smoking. He knew that in a minute they would go back inside for a rotation after keeping watch on them for the last three days.

“Listen lil nigga..get yo ass in and out. I don’t need you getting no extra shit like the drugs, leave that there...get the money and bounce.” Tray watched him while he took a pull from his blunt.

“Why you act like I ain’t been doing this shit for years now. Just stay right here I’ll be back in ten.”

He took the safety off his Glock 19 as he exited the car walking towards the house. He pulled down his mask to cover his face. Walking up to the front he took one last glance back to see Tray pulling off.

‘What the fuck.’ He thought to himself as he turned around to see about seven niggas now standing on the porch pointing everything from a glock to an AK-47 at him.

He threw his gun down on the grass in front of him with a certainty that this was his last day on Earth. He knew eventually that it would catch up to him but didn’t think it would happen like this.

“Wait this the young nigga that’s been hitting up all the traps?” Durk stepped down the steps laughing eyeing up and down Erik who couldn’t have weighed no more than 175 at the time. “Nigga take yo mask off.”

Erik lifted up the ski mask not showing an ounce of fear staring him down ,which Durkio saw and knew he had to get him on his team.

“If you gon kill me do it now cause y’all niggas not bringing me no where to be tortured or some shit.” Erik stated getting ready to fight to the death of him.

Durkio smirked. “Nah nigga I ain’t gon kill you. Ima help you.”

From that day on Erik went to work for Durkio and getting at least 8 out of 10 of his jobs done with no problems. Erik shook his head reminiscing about his first time meeting the man who could’ve took his life but became his best friend instead.

“Nigga you over there in wonderland. What you gon do? You gon help me?” Durk asked in need. He knew that there wasn’t no one better for this.

“I don’t know. You know I haven’t did a job in almost two years.” Erik sipped his water.

“Aw shit. Listen bro I know you not trying to get into this shit anymore but you know if I’m coming to you about it, it’s serious. I mean if you don’t wanna do it than fuck it what can I do...but if I die that’s yo ass nigga.”

Erik shook his head. “Nigga stop speaking that over ya life. Told you bout talking like that.”

He was serious. He knew that what you say about yourself can truly be spoken into existence. He experienced it at first hand.

“Yea yeah I heard you-“ His phone rung cutting him off.

“Hello.”

..........

“Yeah y’all need me?”

..........

“Aight say less I’m there.” He ended the call. He looked at the time cursing to himself. “Shit I gotta take this. I need a quick favor.” Durkio slid out the booth putting on his jacket. He threw a hundred dollar bill down.

“Wasup?”

“Pick up Amiyah from work and bring her home. I was supposed to get her almost an hour ago. Don’t let her talk you into taking her anywhere else bring her ass home.”

Erik looked down at his watch and saw 3:35 pm. He still had plenty of time before he got ready for his date with Alexis.

“I got you bro go do your thing.” Erik got up following him out the restaurant.

“Yo Erik let me know what the move is before next week.”

He nodded his head and dapped his friend up one last time before going to his car.

_________________________________________________

“Why won’t you just wait until I get off and I’ll take you home?” Kelley stated while chewing on her ceaser salad.

“Why would I wait that long and you have to close the store. Kells I’m sorry but I am tired and ready to go home. I been here since six this morning and my dumb ass brother know I get off at two thirty.”

Amiyah threw her bag next to her on the bench as she grew frustrated. It was going on four o’clock and her brother still wasn’t here. This was the main reason she wanted to get her license. She wouldn’t have to depend on anyone and could come and go as she pleased.

Scrolling on her phone she gave him another ten minutes before she would just get an Uber which she dreaded . It was something that didn’t feel right to her trusting a complete stranger to bring her home.

The bell on the front door dinged as it open. She looked up finding Erik at the door. Looking over at Kelley she had the same surprising look as she did while remaining to eat her food.

“Hey your brother asked me to pick you up. My bad I’m late. It was last minute.” Erik walked up to her and reached for her hand to help her get up.

She accepted the helpful gesture as she bend over to collect her belongings.

Amiyah timidly looked him in the eyes. “Thank you.” Her hand still connected to his.

He showed his dimples as he sucked in his bottom lip before looking down releasing it. He let her hand go as well.

“I’m parked right here.” Erik walked to the door opening it and waited for her to walk out first.

“Bye girl.” Kelley interrupted their moment clearly witnessing some chemistry before her.

Her shy nature exposing itself due to the fact that her crush was right there, she gave a half wave to her friend. Erik following her view finally noticing the brown skin beauty at the register. He saluted her as well and then left behind Amiyah.

Walking up to his Inifiniti Q60 she reached for the door but was stopped. She looked down and saw Erik’s hand on top of hers.

“You don’t gotta worry about reaching for one of these around me.”

She lightly giggled covering her mouth with her finger tips. Not because anything was funny, she did it to cover up her nerves as much as she can. No man aside from her brother showed her this much chivalry.

“Okay.” She got in making sure she was secured before he closed the door. She watch as he jogged around to his side and got in.

Erik rubbed his hands together warming them up as he hit the pushed to start button. This was his first time with her in his car and second time alone with her in all. He looked over and watched her as she was making contact with every thing else but him.

“You good?” He questioned trying to see what’s up as he leaned back in his seat while pulling off.

She nodded smiling showing her pretty whites.

“Damn what happened? I thought we was on speaking terms now?” He joked with her trying to make her comfortable. She was too shy around him.

“I just didn’t know you were picking me up. It took me by surprise.” She finally spoke up as she wiped the sweat off her palms on her pants.

“Yeah me either but I’m cool with it.”

“Well thank you.”

“It’s not a problem.”

It seemed to her as if his voice became deeper and raspier within three days.

“So how was your day?” She wanted to make small talk to try and make this car ride go by fast. Thankfully the didn’t live no longer than ten minutes away.

“It was good...had met up with your brother not too long ago then I have somewhere to be in a few.” He checked his watch.

Amiyah knew where but she wanted him to say it. “Oh yeah, what you have plan for the night?”

He glanced at her before focusing back on the road.

“You tryna keep track of me?” He smirked licking his lips.

She rolled her eyes looking out the window. “No it’s just that I saw your girl at my job today. She was looking for an outfit for tonight.” She let him know that she had put two and two together.

Arriving at the building he put the car in park. Leaning back into his seat somewhat facing her. “Who’s my girl? Hm?”

He wanted to put her on the spot to see what she know since she felt it was within her rights to question him.

“I don’t know what’s her name again? Amber or Ashley? Something like that.” She was being petty now.

Erik laughed picking up the jealousy that she was dropping. But he was going to play along.

“Nah her name is Alexis.”

“Oh yeah her.” She tried her best to make herself seem unbothered.

“You help her find something nice for me?” Erik knew what he was doing, he just wanted to see how far it would go.

“I don’t know you’ll have to wait until tonight. Bye Erik. Thanks for the ride.” She grabbed her purse reaching for the door when she felt his hand grab her forearm. Facing him she saw that his eyes were on her.

“Why you seem upset all of a sudden? What I do?”

“I’m not upset I just want go inside. I’ve been up all morning.” She stated somewhat telling the truth.

It wasn’t a secret to Erik that Amiyah liked him. He caught on to that very fast. It was her body language that always gave her away. Whenever he came around her she would tense up. She could never hold eye contact with him longer than ten seconds and she would always make herself quiet the moment he made himself known. There have been times when she didn’t know that he was around and he would hear her speak but when he’d show his face she was on mute. He knew that her experience with being around men that wasn’t her brother was low. She didn’t know how to express herself correctly so instead she would try her best to become unnoticeable. But he noticed her, he noticed everything.

“That’s not my girl. We just be fucking from time and time but I never put a title on her.” He spoke honestly wanting to leave her with some information she didn’t have to spend days trying to figure. As long as it came from him that’s all that matters.

Amiyah glanced down to see his hand had left from her arm. Crossing her arms she sat up straight. “Why you telling me this?”

Erik shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe that’s something I want you to know. Something I can share between just me and you.”

“Okay.” Going back into her timid state she looked down at her thighs.

Noticing this Erik nudged her chin with his fingers making her look up at him.

“I gotta go. But I’ll be around.”

She nodded her head.

He got out the car and opened her door.

“You want me to walk you up?”

“No I’m okay. I’ll see you around.” She smiled.

Before he could stop his actions he found himself grabbing her hand and pulling her back wrapping his arms around her waist for a hug. He felt it was something she needed. Hell he needed it.

He bent his head down smelling a mixture of blueberry and peppermint oil on her neck. That with the feeling of her soft breast pushed on his chest made his dick jump. It was something about her touch that felt different.

“Damn you smell good.” He mumbled but knew she heard him.

Just the feeling of his arms wrapped around her waist alone Amiyah wanted to moan so badly. When his hand swipe the small of her back she bit her lip. She didn’t know the meaning of what it felt like to be touch starved until today. Never would she have thought that a simple hug would make her feel thumping coming from her clitoris. His hands made her feel so safe and protected she didn’t want the hug to end. But of course all good things must come to an end.

Finally separating from each other she looked up at Erik who was staring down at her with low eyes with that bottom lip tucked in and his left dimple showing.

“ Gimmie ya number.” What came out more as a command than a question he reached in his pocket grabbing his phone. He unlocked it for her facing it in her direction.

Out of habit he kept his head on swivel checking his surroundings while he waited for her to make sure they were safe.

Without hesitation she logged her digits in his phone. Trying her best not to show the shakiness in her hands as she wrote her name and then placing a purple heart emoji next to it. Purple was her favorite color.

Erik checked it smiling at her boldness.

“Oh you got an emoji already. Most people gotta earn that in my phone.”

“Well I’m not most people.” She spoke under her breath.

He’d let her get away with that one.

“ Aight I’ma call you soon. Pick up when I do.” He gave her one last side hug before walking to the driver side.

“Wait but I don’t have your number how I’m supposed to know it’s you?”

“You gon know it’s me.”

__________________________________________________________

Part Three

Tag-list!

@supersizemeplz @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @hearteyes-for-killmonger @artisticestheticreads @uzumaki-rebellion @blowmymbackout @chaneajoyyy @thehomierobbstark @thiccdaddy-mbaku @curls-and-crosses @madamslayyy @goddessofthundathighs @eriksjournal @erikslulbaby @wakandamama @wawakanda-btch @wakandas-vibranium @wakandaforeverwrites @ghostfacekill-monger @killmonger-dolan @killmongerkink @migosis @raysunshine78 @alookintohersoul @popcorn803 @just-juicee @mllover260 @kimmyblckswan2 @koriiii @tchallasbabymama @toniilaney @marvelmaree

#erik stevens #erik killmonger #erik x plus size reader #black panther #truglori #killmonger fanfiction #killmonger x reader #fanfic #erik smut #black girls #black panther killmonger #killmonger imagine #tchalla #mbaku

229 notes · View notes

enha-woodzies · 3 years

Text

➸ CHAPTER 6 | " AT LONG LAST PT. 1 "

starring: enhypen ft. i-land daniel

pairing: jungwon x fem!reader x sunghoon

genres: royal au, romance, angst, slowburn, 18th century setting

word count: 2.5k

taglist: @serendipitysung (betareader) @angeljungwon @en-sun @affectionaterainoflove @renkiv @softforjungwoo @jislix @fluffi @gyeraniee @stxrryemxlys

[ PREV. CHAPTER ] | [ M. LIST ] | [ NEXT CHAPTER ]

To be promenaded in front of the entire ton is one of every lady’s desires. From the piercing stares of the envious, to the love-struck looks of those smitten by the pair, the two most-loved couple of this season gracefully saunters from the cemented pathway and down to the grassy lawn, ever so politely greeting Northumberland with their warmest and charming presence.

The young marquess joins the young miss’ family under the canopy near the lake. With a hand draping over Sunghoon’s arm, Lord Niki mutters swears to the gods for lightning to strike upon the chap, as the gagging sight of his sister along with his most despised douche is gradually sucking the life out of him.

“Good morning!” Sunghoon greets the family and so did Lady Park. Jay gives away a polite nod followed by a toast of the teacup, whereas the almost always brooding Niki responds with an exaggerated rolling of his eyes.

“Your Grace. Always the charmer, aren't we?” Niki jeers to which Jay chokes on his warm, jasmine tea.

“The smoothest at being one, Riki.” The name rolls naturally off his tongue like a snake’s hiss that roused Niki’s ire. The boy could feel the crescendo of his spite, yet he eases it casually with a sly smirk.

“Smooth like a snake, perhaps? I anticipate those fangs in action.” Niki surprisingly snaps back. Jay clears his throat as he whispers to Niki in hopes to prevent him from further fumes, although he knows it would be of no use.

Sunghoon scoffs in return, “need I remind you that I shall deliver if provoked. However tempting that may be right now, I regret to inform you that I’m only here to promenade your sister and impress your dear mother.”

“I do hope she turns you down in the most painful way possible, Your Grace. I find my sister's taste in men quite genteel. Surely, you're aware of how opposed you are to that considering your…” Niki walks closer to the marquess to give an exclusive barb against his ear, “nasty record.” He brushes off imaginary dust off Sunghoon’s shoulder before bumping against it, “Good day to you two!”

“Oh dear, your brother is making me worried. Is he alright?” Lady Park whispers to Jay and the gent soothes their mother by softly massaging her hands, rubbing circles on the back of her palm, “he's just going through puberty, mother.”

“Is that so? I don't remember you having those episodes before. Furthermore, I apologize, Your Grace. Rest assured it won't happen again. I will definitely see to it.”

“No worries entirely. It's Niki after all, he may be a tough handful but as far as I recall he's completely-”

“Held back? Are those the words you were going for?” Jay cuts off.

“You're quite forgetting the fact that I’m right here.” Y/n attempts to intrude only to be silenced by her brother once again. With his head held high, Jay saunters up to Sunghoon, who is almost the same height as him. Locking eyes with the chap, he simpers, “come, Your Grace, I require a brief moment with you. Excuse us for a bit, sis.”

And with that, the men left the canopy, leaving Y/n and her mother utterly baffled with the uncalled tension.

The sound of paper being folded into an almost crumple echoes around the parlour, where the only sound that existed prior was deafening silence from the three men sitting across each other.

The culprit was none other than Yang Jungwon, who appears to be insulted from what he just read. Throwing off the now crumpled paper, Daniel perfectly catches it mid-air and opens it in haste.

Sunoo takes a gander at the Daily Tattle’s contents that Daniel incoherently mutters. Jungwon carefully studies his brother's reaction as Sunoo’s smile quickly transforms into shock, followed by the furrowing of his eyebrows with his mouth ajar; the final gesture, shooting a questioning look-- with his mouth still ajar-- at one of the scandal’s subjects.

“Surely, me asking two dances from you was already too cheap but, one, brother? Are you seriously being expensive right now?" The eldest exclaims.

"One that is very exclusive and controversial, might I add." Daniel chimes in. “What was all that about?"

"Remind me why I need to explain myself to the both of you?" Jungwon monotonously replies with his eyes fixed on the book he was now reading.

“Because we ought to know?”

“Well, if not to us, at least to Y/n?"

“Good god. Why is she in this conversation all of a sudden?"

"Because you pulled a dick move on her and we ought to know what's going on inside that brain of yours! You're so dense. Must we shake you up to shrug off those lil rust in there?"

"Oh, shut up, Daniel."

“That thing you did there? With her? Was very unlikely of you, Jungwon." Sunoo stands from his seat and transfers to Jungwon’s side on the couch.

"Well, what is like me then?"

"Spit it out or Daniel and I are gonna have to annoy you for the whole week.”

Jungwon slams the book on the couch and lets out an exasperated sigh before grunting out loud. "I just wanted to be alone with her, okay?! Are you pleased now?"

"Wait. You like her, don't you?”

“No, I don't! And I would never for heaven's sake."

“But you want to be alone with her. Isn't that what people do when they're in love?" Daniel rubs his chin in thought.

“Oh, god! Whatever lets the both of you sleep at night then. Assume the worst for all I care." The heated gent lifts himself up from the couch and strides towards the exit.

“Where are you going?”

“Away from the two of you. You won't stop annoying me either way, so I’m gonna get myself some cleaner air.” Jungwon slams the door shut behind him for a relieving walk to the woods.

“Now he's mad.”

“All we ever said was the truth, didn't we?”

“He is pretty rusty, alright.”

Y/n visits the Kielder Forest once again to run away from the stressful men of this morning’s promenade. She could've stayed in her fortress, but because of their foolish ruse, she had to show up. Now her brothers had to meddle with the already confusing mess.

Pages from the borrowed Austen book are now being flicked through again. She couldn't concentrate no matter how hard she tried, as Niki’s words still lingered in her mind.

“What nasty record could he have?” She mutters under her breath. Soon after, crunching of leaves startles her, and she realizes her whispers weren't the only noise around. Y/n dashes out of her sheer fort only to be welcomed by her most coveted man ever.

"What are you doing here?!" Jungwon asks in an angry kind of worry.

"What are you doing here?"

"Taking a walk, obviously?"

"Well, I’m reading. Obviously." Y/n sassily blinks at him, to which he returns a slightly puzzled look.

"You're much aware that you shouldn't be here, let alone unchaperoned, right?"

"Well, good thing you're here!"

Y/n crouches down to re enter her fort now that she has a guest. She softly taps the extra pillow, gesturing Jungwon to join her in a momentary bliss. One that is very rare when it comes to the both of them, and something that the young miss has found herself accustomed to now. When it comes to Jungwon, he'll just leave her begging for more.

Was it simply luck that had caused him to turn down this pathway? Whatever it was, he didn't feel the need to complain. As of now, all he ever wanted was a piece of mind from his brother's interrogations about him and Y/n. Not fully realizing that the very person who triggered him to rush out of his house would be the one he was impossibly hoping to run into.

"You still have that?" Jungwon points his lips to the book she was flipping. She had borrowed it from him and had yet to return it after all these years.

"Are the inclusions still there?" He continues. Although he wishes he didn't. He recalls all the little notes he left on his favorite pages just to get his feelings across and now he chuckles at the mere thought of him playing Romeo.

"They are. They're kind of tattered now, but they're still comprehensible. You do have a remarkable penmanship after all, something that's very impossible to miss."

The boy chuckles at the thought. "You do mean those things you wrote here, right?" She concerningly asks to which Jungwon only shrugs his shoulder with lips shut tight. "Well, don't mind me 'cause I'd like to think that you did."

"Suit yourself." He mutters. Little did she know he was smiling to himself with flushed cheeks.

The boy looks around the interior of the fort while whistling to the air, followed by a few jabberjays mocking his tune. They chuckle over the memory and realize they had traveled back in time.

"Jay's going to get aggressive with me on fencing once he hears about this. I've been conspiring to keep his sister hidden." He playfully smirks.

"Do you remember we used to do this in the garden lawn? Playing hide and seek just to get a glimpse of Jay's maddening face." Y/n reminisces the good old times they both used to share. Although there were petty fights here and there, what conquered most was their endearing bond.

Jungwon looks over as he vividly remembers that exact memory, "and we ended up building a fort out of the picnic sheets we used to hide in and officially made it our castle" he adds.

"I've forgotten what it's like to feel young." Y/n lets out a deep sigh, minding the pressure she's bearing now that she's about to be offered to the life-long commitment that is marriage.

Jungwon looks over her, feeling all concerned with the worries that she might be facing as of late; things that he wouldn't have any knowledge of as a man.

Society has dictated women's place in the world as persons who are supposed to be emotional, submissive, and homely; something very opposed to those of men. Knowing Y/n well enough and how she enjoys her liberty, her own principles, Jungwon worries her future companion, if not him, would find her very indifferent and of no use in the long run.

And it pains him to think that she wouldn't be well off with someone even worse than him.

She deserves more and he knows that fully well.

"Well, I, for one, miss moments like this more than anything." He lightens the mood in hopes of seeing that beautiful smile on her face.

As he turns to her, the two lock eyes. In that moment, Yang Jungwon swore of laying out his long-hidden sentiments. Under normal circumstances, he would speak his mind. But with Y/n looking at him like this, he would most likely fuck things up.

And he fails himself yet again.

"So uhh… you and the duke-to-be, huh? That must be thrilling." He looks away and pretends to play with the twigs on the ground.

"Y-Yeah! Yeah, indeed, it is. The promenade went well today… before the two decided to sabotage it."

"Do tell."

"We're all aware of how Niki ultimately detests the marquess, aren’t we? He kind of uhh… insulted the man in front of mother."

"And… Jay?"

"Stole the marquess from me to have a word with him."

"I reckon he had many words with him."

Y/n chagrins at the imagination of Jay going head to head with the marquess. Being the overprotective one, Jay will go out of his way to expel threats in the family.

"You seem to be clearly aware of that. Yet you entertained His Grace anyway. I pity Niki. He must be going through a loophole of shit again, now that his dear sister's off strutting with that man." Jungwon blurts out, though he wishes he never did… again.

He is clearly rusty and he kind of admits it now.

"That man? Whatever's the matter with all of you?! You dare speak of him like you know what happened between him and my brother-"

"Y/n, we all went to the same university. What makes you think I know nothing?"

"That man you're referring to was just the man who saved me from an embarrassing night, no thanks to you."

Jungwon scoffs at her pettiness.

"Don't turn away with those remarks now. You toyed with me that night, left me there with nothing but utter shame to bring home. I'm sure you're very proud of that now."

Promenading would be every woman's desire, indeed. But being ghosted or fled from is something that every woman fears, especially when they've been shunned by someone they adore the most. Such shame and reproach haunts them for almost the rest of their lives, especially when the ton won't let them sleep at night with that reminder.

"Have you not at least any bit of politeness left in you? You must be ashamed, asking my brother for such favor that you cannot even put through yourself."

"I have my reasons."

"I highly doubt they're even valid." Y/n retorts. Jungwon sighs in exasperation, finding the situation rather unnecessary that he'd rather keep his mouth shut. She deserves to let her anger out after all.

"Whatever happened to you?" She mutters under her breath, looking over to the boy who kept his head hung low with his elbows leaning on his raised knees. "Sometimes, I look at you and see a completely different person. You know, I never learned to read your mind, Jungwon. So stop giving me all these silent treatments as if something happened even though nothing ever did."

Jungwon lets out a sharp exhale before poking his cheek with his tongue. "Stop seeing Sunghoon then. If you care so much about your brother, stop frolicking around with that scoundrel."

Y/n scoffs at him, followed by the rolling of her eyes, trying to stifle an untimely tear from falling.

"You're unbelievable! Just so you know, I've wasted many sleepless nights crying because of your stupid ass, and I still do for heaven's sake! But now it's very clear to me that there's no amount of crying left that I can do for you!"

Y/n groans heavily before standing up from the pillow she was sitting on, throwing the Austen book hardly on the cold ground.

"So much for hearing nothing but the truth from you, huh? I despise you, Jung. Very much."

She runs off from the boy for what seemed like the nth time. For the past years, this exact scene had happened. Jungwon closes his eyes and lets himself fall harshly on the pillows. He raises a hand over his head, looking at the gaps between his fingers thinking of how he let her slip away, again. He drowns himself in deep thoughts, all the while trusting that Y/n will forget this day ever happened, like before.

He knows she will.

At least, that's what he tells himself.

Though deep down, his stomach churns in fear.

And there's no one to blame but his damning pride.

*send me an ask or a message if you wish to be added on this series' taglist!

#kpopscape #enhypenwriters #enhypennetwork #of lords and mischiefs #enhypen angst #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen series #enhypen fics #enhypen jungwon #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen heeseung #enhypen jay #enhypen jake #enhypen sunoo #enhypen niki #iland daniel

89 notes · View notes

habaritess · 3 years

Note

I don't know, but the way Sebastian said that he now has attachment issues with Anthony, I didn't really find it cute, but rather worrisome. Seb has been demonstrating for years that he has this kind of obsession with Anthony, I don't know how to put it, but that man is almost 40 years old , saying that in public, it's kind of alarming. I wouldn't think that's cute at all and yes, Seb needs help. And from I was reading , he 's living through a tough time in his life , and it seems like Anthony is the only person he trusts and really loves , I think about what else he can reveal in the future ?! as he looks like he 's about to have a breakdown anytime ...Anthony will be the one to help him . I prefer to imagine it that way, because if Anthony moves on , it would be terrible for Sebastian.

Interesting perspective. Oh we are getting deep today.

Sebastian was looking and acting as if he was going through it. Didn’t want to say it in my observations, but he looked like he had a couple of drinks before this. He is currently filming a project that been making headlines so the pressure is on, and what I gather from the grapevine, he is getting canceled by some people. It makes sense that he may be going through a tough time now, especially with his answer about how his life changed after Marvel. He had a pretty negative response while everyone else chose to give praise to it. From the interviews I’ve seen from him, he isn’t usually this negative.

When you look at their relationship, it easy to see how Anthony has become a short of pillar for Sebastian. Sebastian has confirmed this several times. When Anthony asked him how he was feeling, Sebastian answered honestly with “Next to you? Strong!” Anthony gives him the strength to be what he wants to be: a confident funny man who can speak his mind when he wants to and not the closed up, quiet individual who wants to speak but can’t. We’ve seen how much Seb lets loose when he is with him and how his best interviews tend to be with Anthony. Since Anthony is probably one of the few(possibly even only) people who can bring that side out of him, his importance in Seb life goes beyond the normal boundaries of typical friendships. Anthony is classified as a perk and the light of his life not only because he enjoys the hell out of this man, but also what Anthony brings out of him. Because this one human being does so much for him, this lil obsession that many of us observed possibly steams from some kind of major dependency. Anthony being in his head every day, his now describing it as a disease which means Anthony still in his head after all this time, the constant name dropping, the fact that he doesn’t have much to say until he can talk about that guy, all those seem to be examples of Sebastian using Anthony as his rock in more ways than one. I can easily imagine him thinking of Anthony to give him confidence when it comes to promotions and interviews. The constant name-dropping in interviews might just be the evidence of that.

Now we are at the point where Sebastian admits how he doesn’t want to do interviews if Anthony not there and calling it attachment “issues”, and calling it an issue means he acknowledge that it a problem, abet one that isn’t a huge deal. With him going through what looks like a difficult time, it seems like he clinging on to Anthony even more now. He spent the whole Variety interview with an Anthony focused mindset, despite him being there to talk about the show. His out of the blue confession does appear very needy. Was he confessing as much to Elizabeth and his other co-workers, or was he trying to see what Anthony thinks about this? My guess is, he wanted to see Anthony reaction to it, just like many of his other responses were geared squarely toward Mackie. Even in interviews with Anthony, Sebastian usually isn’t this Anthony focused so his attentions being on him this time around might just have been how a “hurt” Sebastian reacts when he gets around his “rock”.

Is his Anthony-focused behavior worrying? See, that isn’t a call we as outsiders can make. Sebastian is able to function and go through his life from what we can see so even if he a little obsess with his best friend, that shouldn’t be enough cause of concern for us outsiders. This is the territory for his friends and family and especially for the person it’s directed toward. Is it normal for a 40 year old man to say that, that might just be a no, but it not being normal doesn’t mean it something concerning. If what I said is right and he does use Anthony as a crutch, is that so terrible? Of the list of issues to have, having a comfort person is pretty insignificant. It only an issues if it bothers the other person, and we know it’s Anthony who fight to have more time with Sebastian. That’s why I’m going to keep calling the behavior cute and adorable. I think it’s safe to say that it is harmless since neither party is badly effected by it.

Thanks for the ask!

#stackie-asks

25 notes · View notes

radramblog · 3 years

Text

What happened to Dirk in Homestuck^2?

Why am I doing this to myself.

I memed a little yesterday when I was posting that article around social medias about Homestuck jokes, because once again we are in lockdown and I am therefore Stuck at Home. Canned laughter goes here. But there’s a topic related to the comic- or more specifically, its aborted sequel, Homestuck^2, that I’m interested in delving into a little bit. I’m going to avoid talking about spoilers as much as possible, but considering said comic takes place not only after the events of the massive sprawl that is Homestuck but also the more linear but still messy Epilogues, some amount of sus shit is inevitable.

Anyway. Much maligned is what the Epilogues and 2 did to everyone’s favourite decapitation target, Dirk Strider, and I have a theory as to why it happened this way.

To begin with, let’s summarise what and who Dirk is through the course of the comics. Fair warning from me, though, it’s been a while since I read through this.

Dirk Strider is a teenager who grew up in a post-apocalyptic future Earth, completely devoid of physical contact with other people and only really ever gets to talk to 3 other people, only one of whom is in anything remotely resembling a relatable situation. He struggles with self-identity, having created numerous robots including an artificial intelligence based on his own brain, aka Lil’ Hal. He’s somewhat of a control freak, and a bit of a cold aloof asshole, but means well, and is pretty gay. NBD. The kinda guy to set up a plan meticulously and thoroughly, not informing any of the moving parts even if said parts are his friends, and often involving some form of self-sacrifice.

Throughout the comic he further reckons with self-identity problems and his own self-loathing including entering a relationship with Jake which doesn’t go well and he eventually breaks off since he knows his overbearing and manipulative behaviour is Not Cool and Pretty Toxic but doesn’t know how to shut it off. Eventually he reaches the God Tier as a Prince of Heart, gaining the power to literally annihilate souls, which he never actually uses since he gets yeeted into deep (Paradox) space and then everything goes to shit. Except none of that happens because of the Retcon (aside from the God Tier bit) and we don’t actually see how that shit progressed in the canon timeline. I think. Dirk’s arc, as it were, doesn’t really come full circle- while he does assist in Dave’s character…growth? he really isn’t the focus of that conversation. This immediately precedes the action climax and there isn’t literally any dialogue after that so that’s what we’re left with.

I like Dirk in Homestuck a lot. It’s hard not to, considering the flashes heavily featuring him (Unite/Synchronise and Prince of Heart: Rise Up) are genuinely excellent, along with many of his music themes being absolute bangers. He gets to interact with Caliborn a lot, with a pretty great banter, there, and the whole splintered personality thing is a really interesting hook for a character. I think he’s my favourite of the Alpha kids, a controversial pick considering I know everyone loves Roxy so much. I think, I’m not as in tune with the fandom as that statement implies I am.

And then the Epilogues/Homestuck 2 came.

Now I read the Meat half of the epilogues first, but that’s more interesting, so we’ll tackle Candy first (this is going to get real confusing for those who haven’t read this comic, huh).

In Candy, Dirk almost immediately kills himself, citing the irrelevance of the timeline as cause, an act considered by whatever mechanism governs God Tier deaths to be Just because he hates himself (and also bc of things we’ll get into), so it actually sticks. This isn’t super relevant for the discussion, but that’s just kinda so unbelievably fucked up? Entirely? I’d imagine if you read Candy first you might get entirely turned off by this, which I’m sure a lot of people did.

Meat is where the, well, meat of post-canon Dirk is. You see, a concept very quickly introduced in the tail end of the original comic is the Ultimate Self, an idea where you somehow encompass every different timeline iteration or alternate version of yourself. This was pretty clearly tacked on to make it so characters whose arcs all happened in the retcon timeline could have their not getting an actual arc explained away, but it didn’t land then and it sure doesn’t land for me now. Anyway, in Meat, Dirk becomes his ultimate self, making him near-omniscient and able to control the fabric of the story himself- for much of this story, he is the narrator. And he uses this power to fuck with all his friends really distressingly without their knowledge (or consent), including breaking up a marriage, in order to further his own goals which largely appear to be just keep the story going so to not fade out of relevance. It’s a plot that makes no sense with his previous characterisation, but I guess now that he’s the Ultimate Self he’s a different person? But I liked old Dirk, and I don’t like New Dirk. He’s a villain now, but he made a much better anti-hero.

But this would be fine if he (or the epilogues, or Homestuck^2) were written well. But they aren’t. Dirk’s dialogue is long, painfully drawn out, with tangents that tend to amount to pure wank, misused literary references and pointless metaphors that go on and on, filling the screen with a bright orange screed that hurts to look at as much as it does to comprehend. It’s not fun. And we’ve seen Dirk communicate before, obviously, the story of Homestuck is built around chatlogs, but it wasn’t like this. He was sarcastic, dryly witty, blunt at times. Even when he was literally talking to a different version of himself it didn’t get that masturbatory.

I was so confused about what the hell happened to Dirk, because I had no idea what the hell someone writing this character was thinking when they turned him into this. And then, the 21st page of Homestuck^2 dropped.

And it all came together.

What Ultimate Dirk and Terezi are referring to is Pony Pals: Detective Pony, a children’s book about some girls who hang out with ponies and solve a mystery. It’s a real book, buy it for your 5-year-old.

Except they’re not referring to that, they’re referring to the Homestuck Canon version of Detective Pony- a birthday gift from Dirk to Jane, heavily edited and to be much more obscene and eventually developing into it’s own story, stated to be “tough, emotionally draining, but cathartic in all the worst ways possible”.

Except the quote “Remember Longcat, Jane?” and references to philosophy, dead languages, and ancient earth culture aren’t referring to the three pages of the Dirk-edited Detective Pony we see in the actual comic itself. That quote doesn’t appear there.

That image is from Detective Pony, by Sonnetstuck- the 40,000 word fanfiction from 2014 that serves as a completed version of Jane’s copy of the book. An expansion of what we see in canon. And it’s a tough, emotionally draining read, but cathartic in all the worst ways possible.

It’s a very good fanfiction.

In the later bits of Detective Pony, we can start to see the origins of what would become Ultimate Dirk’s signature style of writing. Long blocks of rambling text, orange dripping down the page, references to philosophy and history and language that go on and on. And it probably does look familiar to those who read the Epilogues and ^2.

But there are a couple of key differences here. First of all, it’s just better written? The way these rambles circle back on themselves is so excellent, the absolute absurdity of this being written on top of a pony book for little girls, the humour (beyond some of the more immature stuff), it’s just a really well-written piece of fiction. Hell, you don’t even need to be familiar with the character of Dirk to enjoy it. It’s a harrowing piece, but it’s also self-aware- because it’s not supposed to be tough, draining, cathartic etc. just for Jane- it’s clearly that for Dirk himself.

The second part is, of course, that this is a fanfiction. It’s not canon, it’s not official, this is by someone who really likes Dirk for people who really like Dirk. It doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, so if you bounce off it (and I’m sure a lot did), then you don’t have to keep reading it, it’s fine, thanks for playing. As much as Homestuck^2 tried to doll itself up as “dubiously canon” it’s still the official continuation of the story, and that means if it’s as difficult to get into as Detective Pony, that’s going to be a problem for a lot of people.

The other part of it is that Detective Pony’s exploration of Dirk’s character is, well, in character. When the man himself steps in as a character in his own book, the explorations of what he is as an author, who he is as a person, make perfect sense for what we see of him at the start of the comic. He is that manipulative, blunt person, and he is aware of his faults. He’s the kind of person to hide a lamentation on his own failings inside an impenetrable maze of a story layered on top of a book about fucking ponies. Ultimate Dirk does not act like Dirk, outside of the “manipulator” angle, something that Dirk was aware of and trying to improve in the comic. But I guess people don’t have arcs, right?

It’s so interesting to see the seeds of Homestuck^2 laden within Detective Pony- because the meta angle that and the epilogues take is also represented in said fanfiction. While the nature of canon is a facet of the work, the idea of authors and narrators fighting for control of a story, different ideas in mind for the characters, one being more personally connected to them than the other, it’s all there. When I wrote about Fallout 4 in the past, I mentioned being worried that Bethesda took the wrong lessons from Skyrim- seeing something successful and trying to recapture that lightning in a bottle. I think Homestuck^2 is an extreme example of this- the writers of the comic saw Sonnetstuck’s masterwork and thought, yeah that’s great, we can do that. But they just can’t. And with the comic crashed and burning, the probably won’t ever get a chance to. Dirk is forever stuck as this amalgamation of himself that looks nothing like any individual version of him ever did.

At least we will still have Detective Pony, and many other excellent fanworks, for actually good Dirk content. I admittedly haven’t looked into much fanfic written during/post-epilogues, and I’m kind of afraid of what I’ll see- I can only hope the fanbase didn’t take the same wrong lessons as the official team did.

#ramble #honestly more of an essay #homestuck #homestuck 2 #dirk strider #ultimate dirk #just ignore me accidentally posting this to the wrong account and having to reup it

34 notes · View notes

xmint-conditionx · 3 years

Text

☆ flanked ☆ ch1 | knj

(verb) flank -

guard or strengthen (a military force or position) from the side.

attack down or from the sides, or rake with gunfire from the sides.

☆ pairing: soldier!namjoon x widow!reader; namjoon x fem!reader ☆ word count: 4.7K ☆ summary: you’re a recently widowed military spouse who is stationed at camp walker, south korea. you’re dealing with the tragedy of your husband’s recent death, and in the process, you accidentally meet a k-pop idol you’ve had a crush on for years. who knew you’d both be at the same post while he’s doing his compulsory service? who knew he’d be so damn nice? who knew it would be impossible to get him out of your head? ☆ warnings: angst, mentions of death, grieving, feelings of guilt, brief description of sexual acts. ☆ a/n: hey everyone c: glad to be putting this gem back up into the world. please do let me know if you want to be added to a taglist for this, i’d be happy to oblige! this was one of the first things i’ve written, and so i hadn’t quite found my style yet, but it’s not that bad??? i pretty much have the whole story planned out, but i want to take my time with it. this is my lil baby, and i wanna treat it right uwu this starts off with a lot of angst and tough emotions, but there will be eventual smut!!! huge thank you to my supportive spouse who is in the military and has helped out with some of the realism aspects of this story. hope y’all like it! enjoy!

- minty <3

It’s raining today. Again. The clouds hang low, like a weighted blanket covering your whole world. Aren’t those things supposed to help with anxiety? If only the clouds comforted you, maybe you wouldn’t feel the need to go to… therapy. The word stings in your brain. Another cruel joke of the universe: the un-comforting weighted cloud blanket, and the need for you to go to therapy to ease your pain about a dead therapist.

The light of the day is beginning to leave as you walk towards the address the man had given you the day before. You really should have been nicer; he really didn’t mean to hurt you. And you really should have asked his name. Mentally kicking yourself, you vow that you’ll do it tonight. After all, this is the only other time you’ve left the house by yourself this week. It was nice to not have the Casualty Assistance Officer breathing down your neck for once. There has to be some good in that. Hell, this little outing might actually be helpful.

The old government building is dull, like both the sky and your feelings. If you died right now and were reincarnated into an object instead of a being, the building in front of you would probably be the best fit. Shades of brown and grey cover tired and worn brick. Government funding has tried its best to keep it presentable but truthfully, it’s barely holding on. It’s definitely seen better days. The more you think about the similarities, the more pathetic you feel, so you push on ahead and push the thoughts out of your mind. The door creaks as you walk in the cold and dark foyer and it all just... makes sense. As empty inside as you are. Jesus, you’ve never been this morbid. There are no lights on other than one at the end of one of the hallways, and you hesitantly step towards it. You don’t like the thought of what that light is going to expose.

As you reluctantly enter the beam of offensive fluorescent light, someone takes notice of you. Already? They’re walking towards you, hand extended. You’re busy blinking back at the new bright sensation as you reach your hand out to introduce yourself. After blinking back the harsh light, you can see the little folding chairs placed in a circle in the room. Great, you think, just like AA.

The man before you seems to be in his late 30s, a little on the short side, with a little bit of hair recession. As you finish your short bow to the man, he says in Korean “Yes, someone told us you might be joining us tonight.” as he sends a meaningful look over to one of the chairs in the circle. You follow his gaze to see the man from yesterday grinning up at you, dimples on full display, this time in civilian clothes. After sending you a goofy little wave, he pats the chair next to him and not so smoothly motions for you to sit there.

“Go ahead,” the older man says, “make yourself comfortable. We’ll be starting in a few minutes.”

You walk toward the empty chair, and take in how truly different he looks in plain clothes. His KATUSA uniform was extremely flattering to his large frame, but this is just downright cruel. The black beanie he’s sporting looks way too good on him. His short sleeved v-neck shirt is a little tight, revealing the finely defined shape of his chest and his arms. He catches your eyes lingering on his body, and you quickly look down as you feel a blush creep up. You tell yourself to just pretend nothing happened, and it’ll all be fine.

After you sit down, you open your mouth to ask for his name, but he does the same, your voices awkwardly echoing each other. Realizing what happened, your cheeks grow even warmer and you can’t help but turn away as you both share a laugh. You shake it off and give him your name, family first and individual second, attempting to at least make eye contact with him.

“Nice to officially meet you. I’m Sangbyeong Kim Namjoon, but please don’t feel the need to use titles or honorifics with me. We’re equals here as far as I’m concerned. I’m really glad you decided to come tonight.”

So, it is him. You can’t even begin to believe it. He looks so different than he did in the tour pictures you saw only a few years ago, but as you look up at him knowing what you know, it all falls into place. Some things for sure didn’t change one bit- his button nose, his deep and smoldering eyes, and the signature dimples really should have given it away. His smile is still just as genuine and reassuring and gleaming and... beautiful?

You immediately squish the thought and offer him back a tight smile. You’re not going to let him know you know who he is. It would probably only make him feel weird and you’ve already been so awful to him. You’re not going to allow yourself to make a big deal about this, and you’re definitely not going to allow yourself to... like him.

“Look,” you start, “I appreciate your concern. I... I just don’t think something like this will help me. At least not right now.” You sigh, studying your shoes as a distraction. Your hands busy themselves fiddling with your necklace. There’s no way you can be here sitting this close to Namjoon.

As if he can read your panicked thoughts, Namjoon leans in closer to you, so close you can feel his warm breath on your jaw, and with a hushed and more gravelly voice, he says, “You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. Hell, I didn’t say anything for almost a whole month. It just... felt good to listen. You’re not going to be forced into anything. This is going to go at your speed and be what you’re comfortable with. I promise.” With that last sentence, he places his large, warm hand on your knee.

Shit. You suddenly feel your entire body ignite. What is this? A bolt of lightning rushes up your spine. Your heart starts to pound in your chest. No, this isn’t happening. Your legs begin to tingle. This can’t be happening; this is not allowed. You swallow hard.

You don’t want to be aroused. You straight up shouldn’t be aroused. This is messed up. Really messed up. You blink some sense back into yourself and cross your legs away from him which thankfully removes the cursed hand.

You’d imagined being touched by this man for a pretty considerable amount of time some years ago; you had filled your head with countless fantasies, knowing they’d never come true. You’d read countless imaginings of his other fans and admirers. This man had fueled so many hidden desires within you. You’d thought of his hands exploring your frame, his strong arms throwing you around, his plush lips leaving marks along your inner thighs...

Thinking of him had been your guilty little pleasure, even something your husband had liked to playfully tease you about. To actually have him here next to you in the flesh, though, was still somehow unfathomable. Why now, you mentally screamed to the god you didn’t believe in. The universe’s cruel jokes just won’t end, will they? What can you possibly even do about this? You can’t sit here and allow your panties to be wet when your husband hasn’t even been buried yet for fucks sake. God, you’re so ashamed. You’re just going to have to keep him at a polite distance. That’s your only option.

You don’t speak through the meeting. But Namjoon was right, it is kind of nice to hear other people’s stories. Even though it’s only been a week since you found out, there’s a lot of feelings and thoughts you can relate to with these people. You’ve found out why Namjoon comes to these meetings every week. That was a question you didn’t want to linger on, much less learn the answer to. You didn’t want to imagine him experiencing a loss like this. Even when you weren’t convinced it was really him, seeing that same pain in another’s eyes only made yours hurt worse.

One of Namjoon’s fellow soldiers had died in a training accident, and the whole fire team was there doing group therapy. They spent most of their time remembering the funny things he would do to cheer everyone up during their long ruck marches and their annoying and boring bouts of equipment cleaning. Private First Class Derek Williams was the goofball of the group, and he was definitely well loved. Namjoon’s eyes never fully lit up when everyone’s anecdotes hit their punchline.

As the meeting draws to a close and people begin filing out, the group leader comes over to the both of you and asks Namjoon how his thoughts have been over the past week. It’s interesting that the man takes special interest in Namjoon. He nods and just casually replies, “I keep thinking it should have been me instead.”

His relaxed confession is absolutely shocking. Why would he say that? The older man seems to be as surprised as you are.

“Namjoon-ah, please don’t say such things,” the man urges.

“I know how it sounds, I really do. I’m not going to do anything crazy, and I know it’s a pointless thought,” he shrugs. “It’s just how I’ve been feeling.”

The older man nods.

“Go in well-being, Namjoon. Please, call me if you need to.”

You find yourself walking out together. The sky is now fully dark and there’s an added chill in the air, urging you to pull your scarf up a little higher. At least it’s not raining anymore. It’s not usually this cold in Daegu at this time of year; you’re practically begging Spring to come. Although you’re in stride with each other, Namjoon feels like he’s a million miles away.

“Hey,” you begin, hoping to ease the tension. “I’m sorry about your friend. He sounded like a really nice guy.”

“Yeah, he was. Thanks. I’m sorry about your husband too. You seem to miss him a lot.”

“Yeah, I do. Part of me still doesn’t believe he can really be gone. I feel like I’ve been walking around in a daze for the past week. All the paperwork I’ve had to sign. All the logistics. It’s all a little overwhelming so I… just kind of shut down most of the time. Our dog is still looking for him around the house, too, which is probably the worst thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“Oh, shit. I couldn’t imagine. I have a dog too and... I don’t want to think about how confused they must be. That’s terrible. I’m so sorry.”

You both stop walking, because you realize you’ve allowed him to walk you all the way to your car. He didn’t even ask.

“Speaking of my son… I... actually need to go walk him. He’s been inside all day and it’s finally stopped raining. Huskies need exercise... So...”

Namjoon lights up a little. “Do you walk him on post?”

“No actually, we go to Duryu Park. He likes the ducks that gather at the pond. Although they probably won’t be doing very much at this time of night.”

“Hey, why don’t we go together?” he asks, “It’s dark out and it’s not a good idea for you to be by yourself.”

“Excuse me?” you snap. He doesn’t know you’re a brown belt, but he sure is about to.

A flustered Namjoon begins stumbling over his words. “I’m just saying, you’re like really small and someone could easily—“

“Namjoon,” you laugh. “I think I can handle myself.”

“No, uh, what I’m trying to say is that there’s safety in numbers, you know? It would be difficult to fight off bad guys while keeping hold of your dog...” He has a good point. You’ve never walked Draco this late before. You don’t want to admit it, but your recent lesson in mortality has left you a little more than uneasy, especially now that Namjoon has made you think about it.

He continues his word vomit, mistaking your furrowed eyebrows for reluctance instead of consideration.

“Look, I’m sure you’re very intimidating but—“

Oh my god, you can’t take it anymore.

“Namjoon!” you exclaim and he finally, finally stops the verbal deluge. “Fine.”

He seems astonished. “Really?”

“Yeah, meet me by the bridge that leads to the little island in the middle of the pond in like... 30 minutes. We usually do two laps around the water. And...” you pause, “thanks.” You’re a little annoyed at how persistent he can be, but he is really considerate.

His eyes sparkle in the light of the street lamps and you notice his gaze linger on your pursed lips. He does a... weird little hop and finally fully smiles at you. You’ve forgotten how utterly striking his full smile can be. Jesus Christ, how many teeth does this man have? His cheeks have become even more round and his eyes shrink into little half moons. Your stomach does somersaults as you bask in the glow of his happiness. Ugh, not again.

“Okay, I’ll see you soon!” he says, hurrying away. You don’t notice him glance back at you, and that’s probably a good thing.

You get in your car and put your forehead against the steering wheel. Why can’t you just say no to this man?

___________________________

You walk up to the start of the bridge with your pup in tow, who is obviously very pleased to be outside and at his favorite park to boot. The street lamps don’t cover much, but you can just make out a leggy figure standing next to a small white fluff ball. You’d forgotten he said he had a dog too. As you get closer, you see he’s got the leash handle around his wrist, because both his hands are holding two white cups with steam pouring out of the top.

“What’s this?” you ask, as he extends one of the cups to you. Your dogs are busy sniffing each other, ears back and tails wagging.

“Hot chocolate! It’s really cold out and I noticed you shivering when we got out of the group therapy building and I was going to get you coffee but I didn’t know what kind you like or how you take it plus it’s late and caffeine might keep you up all night and I didn’t want to—“

“Namjoon,” you cut him off before he explodes. “Thank you.” you reply, taking a sip of the hot drink and relishing in how it warms you up. You look back up at the handsome man, who is beaming down at you, enthralled in your pleased reaction. Warmth is beginning to spread through your body, and as your eye contact with him deepens, you begin to wonder if it’s just the hot chocolate. You can’t help yourself. “You do know that there’s a lot of sugar in hot chocolate though, right?”

He furrows his eyebrows and panic soon consumes his face.

“Oh! Right! I’m sorry I—“

“Relax, I’m just teasing you. I’ll be fine, promise. And if I’m not and you end up keeping me up all night, I guess I’ll just have to kick your ass.” you deadpan, which takes more effort than usual because now, you’re picturing him… keeping you up all night.

He starts laughing and you can’t help but to join him. He has a good, hearty laugh, one that makes his entire face light up. It feels really good to be laughing with him.

“Oh!” he exclaims suddenly, “this is Moni!” gesturing down to the adorable American Eskimo at the end of the pink leash.

You squat down to formally introduce yourself to Moni. You let him sniff your hand as your dog takes the opportunity to sneak some kisses on your face.

“Bananas, stop!” you light-heartedly scold, but your pooch doesn’t get the message. He seems encouraged instead, and you are given no mercy by your big fluffy boy.

Namjoon just laughs at how adorably frustrated you are. After he’s had enough entertainment, he extends a hand and helps you back up. This is the first time you’ve touched skin to skin, and your body is keenly aware of it. His hands are softer than you thought they’d be, and really warm. With how cold it is, you wish you could keep holding onto his strong yet elegant hands. Even after he’s released you, a symphony of tingles play in your legs, betraying you once again.

“Shall we then?” Namjoon asks, tilting his head down slightly so he’s looking at you through his eyelashes. Why does he have to do that? He can’t look at you like that. It’s illegal. Not allowed. He’s torturing you, and surely he has to know that. Or is he oblivious? He’s probably not even trying, because he has no reason to. He doesn’t even need to try. Which is kind of the problem, because you can’t exactly tell him to stop being so damn hot.

You can only answer him by tugging on your leash with a “let’s go!”

Over your walk, you talk about favorite places to eat in town and the different attractions you’ve come to love during your stay here. He talks about one of his best friends who grew up here in Daegu, so he knows all of these nice little spots only a local would typically know. You don’t have to wait for him to say Yoongi’s name before you know who he’s talking about, bringing up a hint of stinging remorse at your secret. He says they’re still in contact as much as they can be, but it tends to be difficult when they were both doing their compulsory service. Yoongi had finished his obligation, and is back in Seoul working on music. For his time, he was stationed right outside of Seoul working with the Korean Military Police, so he never really had to totally put down his work. He talks about Yoongi like they’re brothers, and it’s one of the sweetest things you’ve ever seen. Namjoon doesn’t even try to hide how much he misses his friend.

He asks about where you grew up, and the question is kind of startling. It’s not that you’re not wanting to tell him, but you’re surprised that he wants to know.

“I grew up in Georgia, in the United States. It’s in the Southeastern part of the country.”

“Ah okay, so you grew up close to Atlanta?” he asks, full of curiosity.

“Kind of! I was about a 4 hour drive from there. I grew up closer to the ocean.” you say, and notice his eyes light up when you mention the sea.

“There’s a guy in my unit,” he begins, “who did his training in Georgia. He said that there isn’t much there other than Atlanta...” he says, quickly noticing your bemused look. He catches himself and finishes, “but in hindsight he was likely biased.”

“He probably trained at Ft. Benning. If that’s the case, I don’t blame him for thinking that at all,” you say, “He’s actually kind of right, if that’s all of Georgia he got to see,” you continue, laughing a little.

“Well, what do you think of Georgia?”

“Hmmmm. I think I wouldn’t have wanted to grow up anywhere else. The area where I grew up was close to the beach, but there was also a lot of agriculture. My grandma even had a peach tree in her backyard. She’d let me go back there and pick a peach and eat it if I had behaved that day. Peaches are my favorite, so it was a pretty good motivator.”

“Georgia is known for their peaches, right?” he asks, but his tone tells you he already knows the answer to that. You had always thought people were exaggerating at how smart he is, but you can’t deny the fact any longer.

“Yeah, we’re even called the peach state. Peaches, pecans, sweet onions and peanuts all grow well there.” you say and he nods with understanding.

“So what about the town you grew up in?”

“The town was pretty small, my high school maybe had 500 people in it. But the bigger city by us was great. A lot of different types of people. A lot of good food. God, I miss southern food a lot.” you gasp, grabbing his bicep with your free hand, “Namjoon! You haven’t lived until you’ve had good collard greens!”

“Collard greens? I’ve never heard of that,” he says, scrunching up his eyebrows.

“It’s a side dish we eat down south. It goes with just about everything, but it’s best next to fried chicken and macaroni and cheese.”

“Macaroni and cheese…” he muses, letting the English words roll off his tongue, “I really want to try more American food. I’ve had plenty of hamburgers, but I want to try everything. PFC Williams always let me try his lunch if I asked him. He brought this thing called potato salad one day… that was an interesting experience.”

You sigh, “there’s much more to American food than just hamburgers and potato salad. Too bad there aren’t any real authentic American food restaurants here. Although, there is a Johnny Rockets on the other side of town. Is that where you get your hamburgers?”

“Yeah… it is. Chain restaurants are cheating though, right?”

“Yeah, basically. If you want real American food, you’ve got to get a real American to make it for you. I thought I really liked Korean food until I moved here. Americanized Koean food is not half as good as the real thing,” you assure him.

“I could have told you that,” he teases, giving you a light bump with his shoulder. “Do you have a favorite restaurant in town?”

You discuss the places you have come to love in Daegu, from restaurants to parks to shopping areas to museums. You both realize you enjoy art, although he prefers looking at it while you enjoy making it. The conversation ventures to Pollock and Monet and Van Gogh and you go on about how you just don’t get Picassos. He just lets you just rant about how much you hate his works for probably too long, until you’ve run out of breath and are forced to take a break.

“Wow, that bad huh? What did he ever do to you?” Namjoon chuckles.

“He destroyed my corneas with his kindergarten level bullshit, that’s what.” you snap, which only makes him laugh more.

“So it’s safe to say that you hate Banksy too, then?”

“No way!” you say, “Banksy is a genius!”

He just continues to chuckle, clearly amused. “I will never understand you, woman.”

“Are you trying to?” you quip before you can stop yourself, and his laughs die down. Oh, no. That was so direct. Way too direct. He’s got to know you’re into him now; he’d be a moron to not pick up on it. Your stomach is doing somersaults again, but not the good kind this time. You’ve known him for less than two days, so why did you think that was a good thing to say?

You chew your lip, worried of what he might be thinking. Or worse, what he might actually say. After an excruciatingly long silence, finally, it happens.

“Yes. I am.”

What does that even mean?! Your thoughts are beginning to spiral again, and thankfully, he continues, albeit way too nonchalantly.

“And honestly, it’s been really enjoyable to do.”

It’s been... enjoyable? Has he already forgotten how you met? This man must have a death wish if getting verbally murked by a strange woman in public was something he considered to be ‘enjoyable.’ You’re immeasurably grateful he isn't looking at you right now, because it’s nearly impossible to hide your astonishment.

“So…” he begins slowly, “I hope you’ll continue to let me.”

What do you even say to something like that? Namjoon is so much nicer than you ever expected, and that fact is only making things more difficult for you. You’ve had more enjoyment in this one walk than you’ve had this whole week, but there’s about a million different reasons why you should stay away from him. If you only could have met under different circumstances, this might be something you could explore. Honestly, you would still love to explore the possibilities with him, even here and now, but the thoughts of your husband are difficult to push away.

You recoil at that and curse yourself.

They shouldn’t be pushed away! It’s not fair to your husband or to his memory. It wouldn’t even be fair to Namjoon! You can barely give yourself a hundred percent right now, much less a new friendship. On top of everything, you’re going to have to go back to the states in less than 6 months, which is an eventuality you’re not looking forward to facing.

The only sounds now are the soft contact of your shoes against pavement, the tinkling of metal dog tags, and the cold breeze rustling the trees around the four of you. You were correct about there being no ducks out this late, and you find yourself missing their chatter. Anything to distract you from this confrontation would be welcome right now. As the silence grows longer, it becomes more and more difficult for you to respond. You’ve never been great with words, but what do you have to lose besides looking like an idiot? Besides, you’ve already done that. Like, yesterday. You take a deep breath and offer up the most broad explanation.

“Namjoon, I just can’t be a good friend to you right now.”

“That’s not what I’m asking for.” he simply replies, not missing a beat. Why is he being so stubborn? You’re going to have to elaborate. Forget trying to not make a fool out of yourself. He’s a good person, and he deserves your honesty-- at least most of it.

“I can’t be a good friend to you ever. I’m too consumed in my own baggage right now to help you carry yours. Plus, I’ll have to return to the States soon. I just… don’t want to be a burden on you.”

“That’s… not what I’m asking for,” he says again.

Frustration building up causes you to sigh at him. You’re going to need a little help from this infuriating dimpled tree-man, so you make him give it to you.

“What are you asking for, then?” you inquire with a little sting in your tone, leaving him with no room to continue being vague.

“I am asking to continue spending time with you. That’s it. I enjoy your company.” he says. This answer is still unacceptable to you because...

“I literally yelled at you in a parking lot yesterday, Namjoon,” you say.

“Yeah, but that was…” he trails off and scratches his head, “kind of my fault.”

“You can’t be serious. You… didn’t know.”

“That might be true, but I still hurt you, and I’d like the chance to continue making it up to you. At risk of sounding really cheesy… Part of my job as a KATUSA is to be a symbol of the friendship and mutual support of our two fine countries... To learn from and assist each other... I don’t see why we couldn’t do that too...”

“That… really was cheesy, Namjoon,” you chuckle.

He smiles down at you, and your heart skips around in your chest. When he speaks again, he draws out the first word, clearly in a teasing mood now.

“Okay, but… did it work?” he teases with a sly grin as he side-eyes you.

Part of you wants to tell him no, but he does deserve honesty after all. At least mostly honesty. You want to reveal to him that you know who he is, but you’re unsure of the words to say. He seems eager to stay in your life here, for whatever reason. Compared to what you’ve just been through, nothing can really hurt you again. So what’s the harm, really? It’s not like you have anyone else to spend time with.

“Yeah,” you confess. “It did.”

“So,” he begins, “does that mean you’ll let me show you the museum you haven’t been to yet? There’s this once piece in there that is spectacular. You have to let me show you.”

After a considerable silence, he looks at you with soft, begging eyes and lets out a soft “Please?”

“Okay, Namjoon. You got it.”

You cannot say no to this man.

“Saturday then? In the morning? We’ll want to beat the crowd, especially if you want to explore the whole thing!”

“That works for me. You know, I’m actually looking forward to you being my personal tour guide.”

“Great! I guess you really must be from Georgia. You’re sweet, just like a peach.”

42 notes · View notes