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ahundredtimesover · 2 years

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Fight for You Epilogue (07)

07: When you miss dinner

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: established relationship - FFY couple; slight angst, hurt/comfort (18+)

Warnings: insecurities, implied anxiety, mentions of sex

Word count: 5.8k

A/N: I finally get to write the “someone misses dinner” storyline that I love! Also an excuse to imagine wet-haired JK in a black zip-up hoodie being the sweetest thing. Again, please excuse my lack of knowledge of business matters.

And the biggest thank you again to Ash @jimilter for this banner. 🥺🥰 That forehead kiss and this JK is giving me the feels. To everyone, please be kind to yourself. 💜

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“What would it be, Ms. Lee?”

In all the years that you’ve been working for your family’s company, dating back to when you were an intern at 20 years old, this is perhaps your most feared question.

What would it be?

It feels so heavy, so full of responsibility; there’s so much room for a win and just as much potential for a loss.

You look at the faces staring back at you - all executives - waiting for your response. And you try your best to keep a calm and confident demeanor, as you know that doing so adds to your credibility, to their respect for you, if there’s even any to begin with that isn’t tied to you being their boss’ daughter.

“Give me until Monday,” you state.

“With all due respect, Ms. Lee, we’ve been holding back on this deal for far too long. Any more delay and the loss will be much greater than what we’re prepared for,” someone says.

“We just received the risk assessment report 2 days ago, Mr. Hong,” you respond.

“Yes, that you asked to be revised because the first one didn’t meet your standards, as if you’d been reading those kinds of reports for a long time and let’s be honest, you haven’t,” Mr. Chung retorts, clearly the one whose acceptance level of you is still in the 30% range.

“We have, and as we advised, it’s safe to move forward, as many of us have expressed,” he continues, looking impatient and unimpressed.

“Half,” you correct him. “Half of you expressed moving forward and the other half wants more time. I merely think it’s a more sound and responsible decision to weigh our options—“

“We only have 2 options,” he interjects. “Proceed or not, and you haven’t been able to make up your mind all week and you haven’t given any other options that we could work with. Your father would be able to decide on the spot or lay out other plans.”

“My father has been doing this for half his life, Mr. Chung,” you state, your tone getting sharper and a little more annoyed by the second. “I haven’t been on this that long and—“

“Yet you are the one in command, how unfortunate,” he counters. “Such big responsibility for someone with so little experience.”

“That’s enough, Mr. Chung,” another one says. “Mr. Lee, our President, assigned Ms. Lee to be in charge. Let’s at least respect that, shall we?”

You sit there frozen, suddenly much more insecure than you were when you called this meeting 3 hours ago. It was supposed to end at 6 but you couldn’t get the group to agree, couldn’t find a middle ground, couldn’t get a clear decision out, and you can’t help but feel smaller and smaller, as if you already didn’t.

Your father has been gone for a month to do his annual rounds in your satellite offices in North America and the rest of Asia, leaving you to oversee certain matters with the guidance of his trusted advisors. But this deal is one he specifically asked you to manage, and while it excited you at first, it’s given you nothing but a headache.

It’s not clear-cut and it’s definitely one of the more challenging ones. It needs more discernment, attention to detail, and maybe a risk-taking attitude, and you’re too wary to make the final decision, knowing that whatever it is you make, certain people won’t be happy, and there will be some loss, one way or another.

What’s worse is that you have to face all these people - mostly men and some of whom aren’t big fans of yours - on a daily basis, as if it’s not enough that they question your decision-making ability everyday.

Your name is called again and you’re broken out of your temporary haze of self-doubt and you look back at them. It’s not easy to decide, especially when it’s going to be on you if things don’t work out, and these people could easily be setting you up for failure.

So that not-so-impulsive and careful part of you puts its foot down.

“Give me until Monday. You may all leave,” you say firmly and head out to go back to your room, quickly enough not to hear the mumbling of the executives and the terrible things they could be saying about you.

You cover your face with your hands as you sit on your office chair and curse everything in existence. You haven’t felt this small and ineffective since you took the marketing department manager post when you got back from grad school years ago. You feel so useless and not worthy of respect of the people you need because much as you dislike the man, Mr. Chung is right - you don’t have that much experience yet, but you’re being given all this responsibility.

But again, that’s precisely why. Skill isn’t just acquired overnight. You still have much to learn, to experience, to figure out. It’s unfair you’re being put on a pedestal like this, but you also know it’s expected. You’re the successor, and you need to prove to everyone, including your parents, that you deserve it.

Your phone rings and you see Jungkook’s name on the screen, and you suddenly remember that you haven’t responded to his text from this morning - or was that last night? You feel too tired to answer, knowing he’ll sense right away that something is bothering you, and you just don’t have that kind of energy.

But his name is immediately replaced by your father’s, and you want nothing more than to disappear right this moment.

“Father? Is everything—“

“You still haven’t decided?” He sighs in exasperation. “It’s a go or no-go, ___. We’re losing something either way so just…”

“They tattled on me already, huh?” You scoff.

“This isn’t middle school, ___. There’s no tattling here. They reported to me, as they are required to,” he responds sternly. “And while I agree that Mr. Chung was disrespectful to you and me, I’d rather dwell on the stalling, because people’s claims of you will always be present for as long as you don’t get to prove yourself yet.”

“I know, father, but it’s just—“

“Do you?” He asks. “I’m giving you all these opportunities to show your capabilities and be more responsible but you’ve just been too soft and indecisive every time.”

The words hurt, you won’t lie, as it’s the first time your father had been this direct of his disappointment towards you since he announced the succession plans.

“Don’t make them doubt you even more, because that decreases my credibility just the same,” he continues at your silence. “Make that decision early on Monday, whatever it is, you hear me?”

“Yes, father,” you say softly, then he hangs up.

You wipe the tears that fall, thankful that at least for a Friday night, there isn’t anyone left in the office from your team. You can play your music as loud as you can, drown the sounds of your phone ringing because you just don’t have the desire to pick up anything, cry if you want, scream if you want. So you do all that.

Until someone knocks on your door.

“Oh, Mi-Seon, hi,” you force a smile at one of the managers from your father’s support team, whom you also work very closely and frequently with. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” she smiles and invites herself inside. “Is everything okay?” She cocks an eyebrow.

“Take a guess,” you chuckle. “When do I willingly spend a Friday night alone in the office?”

“Hmm, when you’re waiting for someone to come in and bring a bottle of wine?” She winks and presents one of your favorite reds.

Your eyes widen in amusement. “You’re a lifesaver.”

She laughs and takes a seat in front of you, and you immediately consume a half glass of wine, unbothered by your empty stomach and incredibly drained out brain. You spend the next hour and a half talking to her about what transpired, the intricacies of the deal that she’s also well-aware of, and this new course of your life that’s both exciting and terrifying.

It’s almost 10PM by the time you finish your self-loathing session, signaled by Mi-Seon spraying some mist on your flushed face and pulling you from your chair and pushing you out the door so you could finally go home.

You do as you’re forced, checking your phone on the way to the lobby and seeing Jungkook’s multiple where are you messages. It’s one of his favorite things to send you, at least for the past few weeks. The others are along the lines of have you eaten or did you take your vitamins or have you taken a break yet.

You know he means well but you just feel like you’ll get a scolding because every time he asks those, the answer that you say in your mind is always a no. Even with asking where you are, it’s because you promised you wouldn’t stay late in the office as you've been doing, and you know he’ll be upset with you being here again. And you just don’t want to deal with it.

You find yourself not wanting to deal with much, actually. There’s so much weighing heavily on you and you feel like you can’t be your best for anything or anyone right now.

People are going through their own things, you remind yourself. Part of the growing up that you need to do to be worthy of your position is learning how to deal with things on your own. No one else can help you anyway, so why bother letting them in?

It’s too much for others to deal with, especially when all you’d probably do is rant about the stress and about the executives who don’t like you and the little mistakes you’re making and how those are making you more annoyed with yourself. You don’t feel like your most likeable version right now and you don’t want others to fall into that hole with you.

You enter the car and ask Mr. Sim to drive-thru at a McDonald’s, and you nibble on your burger and fries and eventually give up because your earlier alcohol intake and the kind of stress you have now have caused you to lose your appetite.

Even your interest in things has dwindled.

It’s past 11 by the time you get home, and you want nothing more than to have your hot bath and lie in bed and sleep for as long as you can just to rid yourself of the embarrassment from tonight.

You get to the kitchen and see Mrs. Hwang washing the dishes. A pot of dumpling soup and a plate of braised beef lay on the counter. With your erratic schedule, you told her to assume you wouldn’t be eating home unless you tell her you will, and you knew today would be a long one so you hadn’t said anything, and now you’re curious as to why she had dinner so late.

“Hi, Mrs. Hwang,” you greet.

She turns to you with crestfallen eyes.

“Hi, sweetie. Another late night, huh?”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Decided to drive-thru for dinner because I haven’t eaten since breakfast and I didn’t even finish it.”

“You… You had dinner already?”

“Yeah. It was such a long day,” you say, feeling like crying again. “Did you just have dinner? And cooking my comfort food without me, too?” You pout.

“No, sweetie. This wasn’t mine,” she walks towards you. “Jungkook made all this. He said you two were supposed to have dinner tonight.”

“We what?” You ask, partly shocked and partly confused.

You turn to the dining table that’s been set up nicely with flowers. You check your phone and scroll past Jungkook’s where are you messages from 6:30PM and see the one from Wednesday when he asked you if you could have dinner on Friday after your meeting ends at 6 and you said yes. And then the one from last night when he reminded you and you confirmed. And then this morning again.

You’d been mindlessly replying to his messages, and your replies haven’t even been making sense, probably because you haven’t been properly processing them nor even paying attention.

And you suddenly feel worse than you did when you were in that meeting room hours ago.

“Has he left?”

“No, I told him to rest in your room first,” she sighs. “He clocked in early at work today so he could come here and cook and he just looked so tired.”

Great. Another thing you’re failing miserably at. You can’t even give your own boyfriend the time of day.

You make it up the stairs and into your room. You find a pile of his clothes on your bed next to a luggage bag, and your heart sinks at the sight.

While Jungkook doesn’t exactly live with you, he’s been spending more time in your place than before, and that has much to do with your many, usually ridiculous, reasons and schemes for him to stay the night, including hiding his clothes in various parts of your room. It’s safe to say that more than half of his wardrobe is in your house, and they magically appear when he finally agrees to sleep over.

As it turns out, he’s known all along where they’re hidden. You’re either terrible at hiding, or he just knows you too well.

But he’s packing his bag, and it seems like he’s taking most of his clothes with him.

He exits your closet with a set of his workout clothes and walks to your bed to place them in the bag, not even sparing you a glance. You stand there and you don’t exactly know what to do.

“I…” You stammer, unsure how to start a conversation you’re not sober enough nor even ready to have, until you feel that awful sting in your stomach go up your throat, and you run to the bathroom and get to the toilet in time.

If you didn’t smell of alcohol earlier, now you do. You kneel on the floor and puke as much of the wine as you can, feeling weaker and weaker by the second.

You hear footsteps inside and feel a hand rubbing circles on your back, but you don’t miss the scoff as Jungkook smells it, and you know he’s got a disappointed look on his face. You sit on the floor after being rid of half of the bottle you consumed earlier, and you’re immediately faced with napkins and a glass of water.

You take them and focus elsewhere, unable and unwilling to look at Jungkook.

“You didn’t eat all day, did you?”

You don’t respond.

“You only puke when you drink too much or when you drink on an empty stomach,” he says coldly. “You’re conscious and mobile, which means you barely ate today, that's why you’re not feeling well.”

He says it so matter-of-factly, so confidently, that it actually annoys you.

“Why? Meeting didn’t go well? The directors disrespecting you again? Work becoming too much? So you went ahead and drank without having eaten and with barely any rest, expecting everything will be okay?”

You meet his piercing eyes with your own, and you no longer hide your irritation, which really is just masking your own embarrassment. You gargle the remaining water, spit it out, then head out the bathroom.

“I don’t wanna hear it, Jungkook,” you tell him. “I don’t have the energy for your scolding.”

“Clearly. You haven’t been replying to my messages so you obviously don’t wanna hear from me at all.”

He returns to packing, and you want so badly for him to stop but you’re also too stubborn to do so.

“Taking all your stuff and leaving me now?” You say after a while, restraining yourself from putting all of his clothes back in your drawers.

He shrugs with his back turned, seemingly uninterested to look at you.

“Why bring up the idea of moving in with you so you could spend more time with me if you’re not even gonna spend time with me…”

“That’s not true,” you defend, suddenly feeling bad at the thought. “I—“

“I made dinner and you didn’t even show up.” He now faces you. “You said yes. You confirmed. And you just… don’t even care that you missed it.”

“Well, I didn’t ask you to make dinner,” you cross your arms.

“That’s the thing though, you don’t ask me for anything anymore. You don’t ask to see me, to spend time with me, to have sex, to—”

“So that’s what this is? You’re upset because we don’t have sex,” you retort, wanting to get the upper hand but his face catches you off guard.

He has a defeated look, like he, too, doesn’t have energy for this, doesn’t want to deal with this. Doesn’t want to deal with you.

“You know that’s not what I meant but if that’s what you want to believe, then fine,” he says with a low voice.

He zips his bag while you stand there, unmoving, too proud to do anything, to say what you really mean - that you’re upset and you don’t know what to do with yourself.

He walks towards you but you refrain from looking back at him.

“You know I’m just here for you,” he huffs. “But I also know when I’m not wanted. It’s been hard on me, too and I don’t want to get angry. I love you and I want to be there for you but if you don’t want me around, that’s okay. I’ll give you time if that’s what you need. I’ll stay over at my place first, alright? I’ll check in on you tomorrow.”

And he shifts so he could give you a forehead kiss, then he walks out the door. You could hear his tired and dragging footsteps down the stairs while you continue to stand there, the tears no longer able to hold themselves back.

The terrible day just won’t end.

You puke again, and as the alcohol drains from your system, there’s more clarity, and you realize as the seconds pass by how unfair you’d been. All Jungkook has been is supportive. He knows how you are when you’re stressed, how you tend to seek perfection to a fault, please others, and in the process, forget about yourself.

But you constantly push him away, even when you know you need him.

Mrs. Hwang enters the bathroom and promptly prepares your hot bath. You cry again at the sight of the dumpling soup she’s brought, and even more when she feeds you while you sit in the tub.

“He was so excited about this,” she says with a soft smile. “He constantly redid the dumplings because they were too big for you to chew.”

“I even argued with him and said I didn’t ask him to make me dinner,” you sob. “And now he’s gone and probably doesn’t want to see me again.”

“Hey, sweetie. That’s not true,” she wipes your tears. “You know he won’t be able to survive without you, especially now. I mean, with his father reaching out, it’s been—“

“What?” You exclaim. “His father has been reaching out?”

Her sullen eyes tell you enough - if she knows, then Jungkook probably told you, and you most likely weren’t paying attention.

“Just last week. Jungkook probably didn’t want to bother you because you’ve been so stressed,” she comforts.

“No, he’d tell me,” you insist.

But then again, whether he told you or not doesn’t matter - you weren’t there for him; and the truth is, you haven’t been.

It’s a long proper dinner and bath, and you savor each dumpling you eat, knowing it was made with so much love that you probably don’t even deserve. You dress up in your most comfortable loungewear, wrap yourself in your softest blanket, and hope to the heavens that sleep overtakes you soon - restart, redo, recover when you wake up.

“It’s okay, sweetie,” Mrs. Hwang wipes your tears. “You know he won’t be able to stay upset for long. Just get some sleep. It’ll be okay in the morning.”

You try, but it just won’t happen.

It’s probably not the smartest thing to be standing outside of your boyfriend’s apartment at 4 in the morning on a chilly spring night, but here you are.

You snuck out of your house and was too absentminded to bring your key to Jungkook‘s place, but then again, inviting yourself in might not even bode well with him, given that he did leave.

So you stand there for another minute as your lips continue to quiver, and you try to think of what to do if the door doesn’t open in the next 5 minutes, but miraculously, it does.

“___?” Jungkook says, peeking behind you to perhaps greet Mr. Sim who isn’t anywhere to be found.

“How did you get here?” He exclaims, pulling your shivering body inside and shutting the door.

“Cab…” you say softly.

“___, what were you thinking?! At this hour?! Do you know—“

Your hug stops him, and you tighten your hold around his waist and whisper, “can you do the scolding later, please? I just…”

And at this, every ounce of sadness and hurt in Jungkook’s body melts away.

He wraps his arms around you and with you tiptoeing as your face nestles in the crook of his neck, you sob.

“I’m so sorry. Please forgive me,” you choke on your words. “I was being so stubborn and difficult and stupid. I’m sorry for forgetting about dinner.”

You become more breathless as your cries get louder, and Jungkook holds you closer as you do.

“Hey, angel. It’s okay. It’s been a tough few months, I know,” he comforts.

“It’s not okay,” you insist.

“It is.”

“It’s not!” You face him with a pout. “I was being such a brat and keeping things in and—“ you hiccup.

“Shh, angel,” he cups your face and kisses your forehead. “Let’s get you water.”

He sits you on the chair and looks at you tenderly as you finish the glass.

Kneeling on the ground, he asks, “do Mr. Sim and Namjoon know you’re here?”

You shake your head.

He frowns at you but laughs right after, and immediately gets his phone to send texts to them and Mrs. Hwang so as not to make them lose their minds at the sight of your empty bed in the morning.

You follow Jungkook to the couch. You straddle him and bury your face in his neck again, inhaling his fresh scent and damp hair.

“Did you just shower? Why are you awake?” You sniff.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he admits, “so I was doing a bit of exercise. I was dressing up when you rang the doorbell.”

“Why couldn’t you sleep?” You face him.

“Why couldn’t you?” He counters.

“Because I’m sad and mad at myself because I missed dinner and I missed you.”

“Didn’t seem like it earlier,” he chuckles.

“Hey!” You furrow your brows, on the verge of tears again. “I didn’t mean what I said,” you pout this time.

“I know,” he says, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I didn’t mean to scold you or anything. I’m just worried about you because I know how you are when you’re stressed. You get sick easily, you don’t eat, you don’t rest… you forget to take your vitamins. But you don’t respond to my questions so that’s how I know you’re not taking care of yourself.”

You realized long ago that Jungkook is a very caring person. He’s observant in that he easily picks up on your habits and tendencies; he can figure out what you’re feeling by the sound of your voice, the pacing of your breathing, and your body language. You know all this, but it still makes you feel all kinds of warmth and love when he shows that protective and worried side of him.

“How are you so good at this?” You whisper.

“At what?”

“Knowing me? Caring for me?”

“Says the person who never missed a day of visiting when I got shot,” he laughs.

“Hmm, you really used an example from years ago, huh?”

“My point is,” he tickles you, “is that’s how you really are. I… wasn’t always like this, is what I meant to say. I worry differently when it’s about you.”

His face softens and you just want to kiss him stupid, but you also know you owe him an apology and an explanation.

“Me, too. Except maybe when I’m too self-absorbed and can’t look past whatever I’m going through,” you sigh, “which is terrible because I didn’t know your dad’s been reaching out. It’s either you told me or didn’t but either way, I’m sorry for not being there for you.”

“I… mentioned it in passing,” he says, immediately hugging you as you start to cry again. “But it’s fine. I talked to my mom about it and she says it’s up to me if I want to entertain him and stuff.”

He rubs circles on your back. “Let’s talk about that another time, okay? What about you?” He asks, shifting you to face him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

The realization that Jungkook has been asking how you are but you never really answer him hits you, even more that you’ve been keeping him out yet he still looks at you with the softest, most comforting eyes.

But you tell him - how the past weeks have been, yesterday’s meeting, the director’s snarky remarks, the phone call with your father, and the aftermath of it all.

He watches you with a mix of amusement and sympathy, as you animatedly narrate everything. You shift from one emotion to another, rocking back and forth on his lap, gesticulating as you go, and all the while, his hands on your waist steady you to make sure you don’t fall off.

He listens intently and agrees that Mr. Chung is a “party pooper” and “probably never had sprinkled cupcakes in his life” because he “lacks so much joy and softness.”

“And then I ignored your texts and came home to find out that I missed the dinner you cooked then I saw you packing and thought you want to leave me for good,” you shift, pouting once more and tearing up.

You hug him again - partly an excuse to inhale his fresh scent, and apologize.

“Don’t leave me, okay?” You say softly.

He holds you close and cradles you like the baby that you are. “It’s gonna take way more than you missing my famed dumpling soup for me to leave you, got that? You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

You bask in his sweetness, knowing that while he’s not always like this - as he leaves most of the verbal expression of love to you - he knows just what you need to feel better.

He cups your cheeks, wipes your tears, and kisses your forehead.

“Why are you so hard on yourself?”

Your face deflates and there’s that uncertainty, that fear, almost like affliction that hurts Jungkook to be seeing on you.

“It’s more than the stress and those people, isn’t it?”

It takes a while for you to answer, but the admission - simple as it is, still feels heavy.

“I’m so scared, Jungkook.”

He gives you time to process your own words, feeling as if it’s also the first time that you’re verbalizing it.

“I’m so scared that I’ll disappoint my parents, and I keep thinking that I will, that somewhere along the line, they’ll regret giving me this responsibility,” you say, your lips quivering.

“Have you always felt this way?”

“I guess I always have but this is the longest that my father’s been away, that he’s left me to deal with all of these things on my own, and that’s just magnified what I’m so afraid of - failing them.”

“Hey, ___. You won’t. I’ve got enough people on your end telling me you’re doing just fine.”

“Then why don’t I feel that? Why do I feel like every decision I’ll make will yield some loss, or upset people, or lead to some disaster? And then I can’t make a decision at all? I mean, that’s what happened yesterday,” you reason. “I couldn’t make up my mind. And I just couldn’t… I just…”

You sigh. Even thinking about this is tiring.

“It’s like this crippling anxiety, you know?” You manage to continue. “I’m so scared that I’ll make the wrong call, that I’ll make mistakes that I just… can’t do anything at all. And either way I lose.”

“Either way you lose,” he repeats. “Take a step somewhere or stay rooted where you are, you lose. But at least if you move, you’re no longer in the same place. You could end up with a different result.”

“Yeah but my mind just always thinks I’ll fail,” you whine. “And I don’t want that, I can’t have that. I don’t want my parents to be upset with me; I don’t want them to be upset at having me.”

It’s the kind of fear that Jungkook has never seen on you before, not even at the alley those years ago. This one is deep-seated, one that's developed over time, one that you just can’t shake off.

One that he understands.

No matter how much your parents hurt you, you will always want their approval, their love. You want to know that even if things didn’t turn out well, they never regret giving you a chance.

It’s something he can relate with, as he finds himself still yearning for his mother’s acceptance, her admiration, her affection.

But it’s different with you, especially as he knows that when it comes to your parents, there’s so much that hasn’t been said.

“I get you, angel, but you see, it isn’t about not making mistakes,” Jungkook says. “It isn’t just about making the right decision but standing by it, whatever it is.”

He turns your face towards his.

“Your father trusts you to make the best decision you could make at that moment, even if it doesn’t always turn out right, even if there’s a loss. He trusts that you’d know what should be done or at least, make sure that you do. It’s sticking to your principles, being accountable, standing your ground whatever the consequences are.”

“How do you know?”

Jungkook releases a deep breath. “Your father talks to me a lot, you know? He asks me to join him for drinks sometimes.”

This is news to you, and you don’t hide your surprise.

“Well, he always wanted a son,” you shrug, not being able to imagine drinking alcohol with your father.

“He talks to me about you.”

You don’t know what to say, and your wide eyes say you don’t know what to think, either.

“He tells me that he wishes you wouldn’t be so scared to make mistakes, because he’s noticed it,” Jungkook shares. “He wants to push you but he doesn’t know how far he should, or could, because he doesn’t think he knows you well enough.”

You turn emotional again, and somehow you feel like your heart is breaking and mending all at once.

“Your father may not know how to love you as a parent should but one thing I’ve learned about him is that he doesn’t want to hurt you. And I think that’s why he talks to me, because I learned how to.”

“I’m that hard of a person to love, huh?” Your face falls.

“No,” Jungkook says, snuggling you to him. “You teach people how to, and then you make them realize that they’re capable of doing it, you make them want to believe that they actually can. Because I did, and I’m pretty sure your parents aren’t far from realizing that, too.”

You nibble your lips, unable to process this kind of information, so you focus on something else.

“For someone who’s too careful, seems pretty uncharacteristic of him to say it isn’t about making mistakes,” you frown.

“He’s been doing this for decades, ___. I'm pretty sure he’s already learned how not to make significant mistakes, but I'm also pretty sure he still does. He’s just good at not showing it, I mean, he shouldn’t, but he’d be sympathetic about it.”

“Are you my boyfriend or are you his son?” You giggle, but finding comfort, in a way, that your own father confides in Jungkook. There’s something heartwarming, although a little nerve wracking, about the thought.

“Could be both,” he smirks. “But he was also honest with me that he was so angry when he found out about us. He was ready to ban us from seeing each other but that day at his office, when you fought for me the way you did, ready to shoulder the consequences of being with someone like me, he saw that you’re capable of doing that, of standing by your decision, even if he didn’t think it was the best one, but you did. And here we are.”

“Here we are,” you smile, feeling as if you haven’t done that in a long while.

“I know you’re scared to disappoint others - that’s why you always did what your parents said, why you never questioned people, why you allowed them to define you, question you. But you can’t forget about you, okay? You’re worth too much to just be your own afterthought.”

You want to cry again and kiss him, so you do both at the same time. He holds you while you do, and you feel his smile on your lips, and you end up smiling, too.

“I love you,” you whisper on his neck.

“I love you, too, angel,” he whispers back.

Your lips travel down to his semi-exposed chest, as he wears his zip-up black jacket and you’re suddenly tempted to see more. So you do.

He’ll always look sexy like this.

“I miss you so much and I want so badly to make love to you but I’m so tired from crying,” you pout, earning you a laugh.

“We have the whole day tomorrow, angel. Don’t worry. We’ll do all the lovemaking you want.”

He looks at you with soft eyes, and they’re ones you never want to be without. Especially on your hardest days, all you want is for those eyes to look back at you, telling you that everything will be okay.

He cradles you in his arms as you both fall asleep, as if he wants to protect you from the whole world. And you know just as much - Jungkook will do everything to make sure he does.

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scintillasofbeomgyu · 3 years

Text

➷ a star called you — chapter 42: “big brain era”

pairing: choi beomgyu x reader. genre(s): fluff, band txt, college au, smau (this chapter is semi). wc: 1,1k. warning(s): food pictured; not proof read, typo in twt too lazy to change. disclaimer: NO i do not support idolxidol shipping! this is just for the purposes of the story. an: i'm gonna pull a cia and dip after this so don't hate me too much 😁

[06:11 pm] — “so what did you want to talk about?” you asked after shoving your phone into your pocket with a huff. taehyun was like a doting mother, which was rather ironic considering the way he always ruthlessly blunt with no remorse. you’d eventually concluded by the time you got to high school (and after incidental and intense exposure to japanese pop culture) that taehyun was simply, just tsundere.

subin caught the light chuckles slipping from your lips and stole glimpses at you from the corners of his eyes. you seemed comfortable, or atleast that’s what he was hoping for. the look in your eyes when he had arrived to pick you up from the store was still fresh in his mind: surprise mixed with the tiniest bit of anxiousness that you attempted to conceal with a smile. it was a god-sent that his sister made him babysit, otherwise, if he had been alone, he was sure you would have run away.

his hands tightened around the steering wheel and he sighed, “we’ll talk when we get there. it’ll only be a minute.”

you kept your eyes on the passing buildings outside. the sun had just tucked itself beyond the mountains and night fall was quickly decending upon the city. the sinage of the stores lining the street were beginning to flicker on and the pavements were beginning to fill up with those coming from work, from school, and those heading out with or to friends and family.

the temperature was starting to drop, so you rolled up the window and glanced toward yina, subin’s niece, in the backseat. she was fast asleep, features relaxed peacefully, worn out from all the excitment, the sight making you smile fondly. if it weren’t for her, you couldn’t imagine what would have happened. despite reassuring your friends and taehyun that everything was okay and that you were fine, truthfully, being with subin made you feel uneasy.

the car turned, rolling down an incline and into the underground parking lot of a building. when the realization that it could only be Alice that you had arrived at, adrenline pumped through your veins and the edges of your lips tugged into a huge grin. this feeling chases away any worries and concerns plaguing your mind, to make room for but one nearing reality: you were going to see beomgyu.

the minute subin turned off the engine you would have charged for the elevator you’d been eyeing like a bird of prey, if it were not for the fact that he kept the car doors locked. you fiddled with the handle before snapping your head in his direction with a peeved pout.

his laughter echoed off the walls in the parking lot, “we still have to talk, silly.”

“o-oh, right,” you blushed, slowly reclining back to the leather of the seat and hoping it would swallow you whole.

subin prayed the overhead lights didn’t show the begrudging expression forcing it’s way into his face no matter how hard he tried to remain unstirred. did he ever make you feel this way? he didn’t know whether to believe he did or didn’t was better, either theory made him upset.

“i wanted to aplogize,” he started, gulping before he continued, “for what happened in the past. i was really immature. a-and stupid,” he frowned at the steering wheel, his breath becoming unsteady, “i didn’t deserve you— i still don’t. you opened up to me and told me things, things that take alot of courage to share, and i threw all of that back in your face. i was insecure because to me you were someone... perfect. i didn’t think i was good enough and yet i had the audacity to act like i was”

you nodded along as he spoke, the tension in your shoulders slowly easing. he went quiet for a moment, before he turned to face you fully, the leather beneath him squeaking, “i know i don’t have the right to say this, but i still love you. the parts that are the same and those that have changed. through all these years, i guess i didn’t think about it because i just thought i’d never see you again. but when i saw you again... i didn’t want to let you go.”

teeth sinking into your bottom lip, you squeezed your eyes shut and sighed, “subin...”

“i-i’m not finished,” he frowned. he hestitated, then put a hand on your shoulder, “i was a really bad boyfriend, but i didn’t break up with you because of... you. my mom—”

“i know,” you smiled, genuinely, placing a hand over his before removing it from it’s place. you still couldn’t believe you weren’t guilty, “it’s okay. i was really foolish too. you only did what you did because i wasn’t considerate enough of the way you felt.”

subin’s frown deepened and he clenched his fists. he might not have been the only one who made you this way, but the fact that he contributed at all frustrated him.

“yn, no, you—”

“let’s go before we miss him, yeah?” you patted his shoulder before stepping out of the vehicle. subin groaned internally. he felt like he hadn’t made any progress. after running his fingers through his hair a few times, and making sure he didn’t wake yina, he stepped out of the car.

he was in the middle of locking the car, when he found you frozen in your tracks. he arched a brow, walking toward you and tapping your shoulder. you didn’t even flinch. he followed your eyes to the scene infront of the glass doors to the company.

ryujin skipped out with her arm hooked into beomgyu’s and her head resting on his shoulder as they both shook with laughter. a black van pulled up that subin assumed had come to pick her up, and beomgyu pulled away from her, patting her head with a smile. in the middle of their parting conversation, ryujin reached up and brushed some of the hair from his face. subin’s eyes widened and he could feel your shoulders shake.

subin looked back to them just as ryujin got into the van, but she paused, leaning back to look him dead in the eye. she waved, mouthing, thanks for the recommendation.

beomgyu followed ryujin’s eyes and scowled finding subin standing there. he waved goodbye as she left and walked over to him with his hands in his pockets. subin panicked, looking around him, but you vanished.

“fancy seeing you here,” beomgyu squinted into his car and grinned, “new partner? ready to leave yn alone now?”

subin gave his shoulder a hard shove, “keep acting so friendly with other people and you’ll find out.”

yn and their friends run the campus radio for which yn is the host of the evening show "dear sputnik", where they share stories and hope to create a healing space for all students— even though many don't listen to it. little does yn know, their biggest fan, angel313, is choi beomgyu— the boy they've silently had a crush on for the past four years.

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fatliberation · 3 years

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I’m Abandoning Body Positivity and Here’s Why

In short: it’s fatphobic.

“A rallying cry for a shift in societal norms has now become the skinny girl’s reassurance that she isn’t really fat. Fatness, through this lens of ‘body positivity’, remains the worst thing a person can be.” (Kayleigh Donaldson)

• • •

I have always had a lot of conflicting opinions about the body positivity movement, but it’s much more widely known (and accepted, go figure) than the fat liberation movement, so I often used the two terms interchangeably in conversation about anti-fatness. But the longer I’ve been following the body positivity movement, the more I’ve realized how much it has strayed from its fat lib origins. It has been hijacked; deluded to center thin, able, white, socially acceptable bodies.

Bopo’s origins are undoubtedly grounded in fat liberation. The fat activists of the 1960s paved the way for the shred of size acceptance we see in media today, initially protesting the discrimination and lack of access to equal opportunities for fat people specifically. This early movement highlighted the abuse, mental health struggles, malpractice in the medical field, and called for equal pay, equal access, equal respect, an end to fatphobic structures and ideas. It saddens me that it hasn’t made much progress in those regards.

Today, the #bopo movement encapsulates more the idea of loving your own body versus ensuring that individuals regardless of their weight and appearance are given equal opportunities in the workplace, schools, fashion and media. Somehow those demands never made it outside of the ‘taboo’ category, and privileged people would much more readily accept the warm and fuzzy, sugar-coated message of “love yourself!” But as @yrfatfriend once said, this idea reduces fat people’s struggles to a problem of mindset, rather than a product of external oppressors that need to be abolished in order for fat people to live freely.

That generalized statement, “love yourself,” is how a movement started by fat people for the rights of fat people was diluted so much, it now serves a thin model on Instagram posting about how she has a tummy roll and cellulite on her thighs - then getting praised for loving her body despite *gasp!* its minor resemblance to a fat body.

Look. Pretty much everyone has insecurities about their bodies, especially those of us who belong to marginalized groups. If you don’t have body issues, you’re a privileged miracle, but our beauty-obsessed society has conditioned us to want to look a certain way, and if we have any features that the western beauty standard considers as “flaws,” yeah! We feel bad about it! So it’s not surprising that people who feel bad about themselves would want to hop on a movement that says ‘hey, you’re beautiful as you are!’ That’s a message everyone would like to hear. Any person who has once thought of themselves as less than beautiful now feels that this movement is theirs. And everyone has insecurities, so everyone feels entitled to the safe space. And when a space made for a minority includes the majority, the cycle happens again and the majority oppresses the minority. What I’m trying to explain here is that thin people now feel a sense of ownership over body positive spaces.

Regardless of how badly thin people feel about their bodies, they still experience thin privilege. They can sit down in a theater or an airplane without even thinking about it, they can eat in front of others without judgement, they can go the doctor with a problem and actually have it fixed right away, they can find cute clothes in their size with ease, they do not suffer from assumptions of laziness/failure based on stereotype, they see their body type represented everywhere in media, the list goes on and on. They do not face discrimination based off of the size of their body.

Yet diet culture and fatphobia affects everyone, and of course thin people do still feel bad about the little fat they have on their bodies. But the failure to examine WHY they feel bad about it, is what perpetuates fatphobia within the bopo movement. They’re labeled “brave” for showing a pinch of chub, yet fail to address what makes it so acceptably daring, and how damaging it is to people who are shamed for living in fat bodies. Much like the rest of society, thin body positivity is still driven by the fear of fat, and does nothing to dismantle fatphobia within structures or within themselves.

Evette Dionne sums it up perfectly in her article, “The Fragility of Body Positivity: How a Radical Movement Lost Its Way.”

“The body-positive media economy centers these affirming, empowering, let-me-pinch-a-fat-roll-to-show-how-much-I-love-myself stories while failing to actually challenge institutions to stop discriminating against fat people. More importantly, most of those stories center thin, white, cisgender, heterosexual women who have co-opted the movement to build their brands. Rutter has labeled this erasure ‘Socially Acceptable Body Positivity.’

“On social media, it actually gets worse for fat bodies: We’re not just being erased from body positivity, fat women are being actively vilified. Health has become the stick with which to beat fat people with [sic], and the benchmark for whether body positivity should include someone” (Dionne).

Ah, yes. The medicalization of fat bodies, and the moralization of health. I’ve ranted about this before. Countless comments on posts of big women that say stuff like “I’m all for body positivity, but this is just unhealthy and it shouldn’t be celebrated.” I’ve heard writer/activist Aubrey Gordon once say that body positivity has become something like a shield for anti-fatness. It’s anti-fatness that has been repackaged as empowerment. It’s a striking double-standard. Fat people are told to be comfortable in their bodies (as if that’s what’s going to fix things) but in turn are punished when they’re okay with being fat. Make it make sense.

Since thin people feel a sense of ownership over body positive spaces, and they get to hide behind “health” when they are picking and choosing who can and cannot be body positive, they base it off of who looks the most socially acceptable. And I’m sure they aren’t consciously picking and choosing, it comes from implicit bias. But the socially acceptable bodies they center are small to medium fat, with an hourglass shape. They have shaped a new beauty standard specifically FOR FAT PEOPLE. (Have you ever seen a plus sized model with neck fat?? I’m genuinely asking because I have yet to find one!) The bopo movement works to exclude and silence people who are on the largest end of the weight spectrum.

Speaking of exclusion, let’s talk about fashion for a minute.

For some reason, (COUGH COUGH CAPITALISM) body positivity is largely centered around fashion. And surprise surprise, it’s still not inclusive to fat people. Fashion companies get a pat on the back for expanding their sizing two sizes up from what they previously offered, when they are still leaving out larger fat people completely. In general, clothing companies charge more for clothes with more fabric, so people who need the largest sizes are left high and dry. It’s next to impossible to find affordable clothes that also look nice. Fashion piggybacks on the bopo movement as a marketing tactic, and exploits the very bodies it claims to be serving. (Need I mention the time Urban Outfitters used a "curvy” model to sell a size it doesn’t even carry?)

The movement also works to exclude and silence fat Black activists.

In her article, “The Body Positivity Movement Both Takes From and Erases Fat Black Women” Donyae Coles explains how both white people and thin celebrities such as Jameela Jamil profit from the movement that Black women built.

“Since long before blogging was a thing, fat Black women have been vocal about body acceptance, with women like Sharon Quinn and Marie Denee, or the work of Sonya Renee Taylor with The Body Is Not An Apology. We’ve been out here, and we’re still here, but the overwhelming face of the movement is white and thin because the mainstream still craves it, and white and thin people have no problem with profiting off the work of fat, non-white bodies.”

“There is a persistent belief that when thin and/or white people enter the body positive realm and begin to repeat the messages that Black women have been saying for years in some cases, when they imitate the labor that Black women have already put in that we should be thankful that they are “boosting” our message. This completely ignores the fact that in doing so they are profiting off of that labor. They are gaining the notoriety, the mark of an expert in something they learned from an ignored Black woman” (Coles).

My next essay will go into detail about this and illuminate key figures who paved the way for body acceptance in communities of color.

The true purpose of this movement has gotten completely lost. So where the fuck do we go from here?

We break up with it, and run back to the faithful ex our parents disapproved of. We go back to the roots of the fat liberation movement, carved out for us by the fat feminists, the queer fat activists, the fat Black community, and the allies it began with. Everything they have preached since the 1960s and 70s is one hundred percent applicable today. We get educated. We examine diet culture through a capitalist lens. We tackle thin, white-supremacist systems and weight based discrimination, as well as internalized bias. We challenge our healthcare workers to unlearn their bias, treat, and support fat patients accordingly. We make our homes and spaces accessible and welcoming to people of any size, or any (dis)ability. “We must first protect and uplift people in marginalized bodies, only then can we mandate self-love” (Gordon).

Think about it. In the face of discrimination, mistreatment, and emotional abuse, we as a society are telling fat people to love their bodies, when we should be putting our energy toward removing those fatphobic ideas and structures so that fat people can live in a world that doesn’t require them to feel bad about their bodies. It’s like hitting someone with a rock and telling them not to bruise!

While learning to love and care for the body that you’re in is important, I think that body positivity also fails in teaching that because it puts even more emphasis on beauty. Instead of saying, “you don’t have to be ‘beautiful’ to be loved and appreciated,” its main lesson is that “all bodies are beautiful.” We live in a society obsessed with appearance, and it is irresponsible to ignore the hierarchy of beauty standards that exist in every space. Although it should be relative, “beautiful” has been given a meaning. And that meaning is thin, abled, symmetric, and eurocentric.

Beauty and ugliness are irrelevant, made-up constructs. People will always be drawn to you no matter what, so you deserve to exist in your body without struggling to conform to an impossible and bigoted standard. Love and accept your body for YOURSELF AND NO ONE ELSE, because you do not exist to please the eyes of other people. That’s what I wish we were teaching instead. Radical self acceptance!

As of today, the ultimate message of the body positivity movement is: Love your body “despite its imperfections.” Or people with “perfect and imperfect bodies both deserve love.” As long as we are upholding the notion that there IS a perfect body that looks a certain way, and every body that falls outside of that category is imperfect, we are upholding white supremacy, eugenics, anti-fatness, and ableism.

#body positivity #bopo #body posi #body positive #body acceptance #fat acceptance #fat activism #fat liberation #anti fatness #anti blackness #anti fat bias #lookism #beauty standards #self acceptance

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winter-soldier-vibes · 3 years

Text

We Need You

Bucky x reader

Word count: 1901

Summary: Bucky comforts a reader with imposter syndrome (inability to believe that one’s success is deserved)

Warnings: imposter syndrome, low self worth/self esteem, feeling worthless, slight angst, mostly comfort

A/N: I have issues that present similarly to imposter syndrome, but I don’t experience it fully or severely. You belong and wherever you are, you fucking earned that. You worked hard to get where you are. I hope this fic can bring you some comfort, I apologize if I did not serve the topic justice. Sorry it took so long! As always, if anyone needs anything from me or just wants to talk and vent, I am ALWAYS here! <3

Tags: @buckys2thicc @buckfics @thatfangirl42 @mardema @barnesplums @bucks-bunny @stucky-on-spiderman @peggycarter-steverogers @freigeistundanderes

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------

You were calm, cool and collected. Smart, dedicated, and hard-working. You were an Avenger, one of the more valuable assets to the team with your training in hand to hand combat and knowledge of weaponry.

At least, that’s how everyone saw you. Everyone except you.

Every “job well done” translated to “I could’ve done better” for you. Compliments in a way felt like pity to you. Like it was all a lie or something. You could’ve been better, you didn’t think you were anything special.

Anytime someone gave you praise you would wave it off with a small smile. Everyone saw it as you being modest, but internally you just couldn’t accept it. You couldn’t accept praise knowing you could’ve done better.

Settle for nothing less than perfection. But nobody’s perfect.

You were endlessly grateful for your team, your family, but you couldn’t help but feel like you didn’t deserve it. You had so much good in your life, but you felt like you had to keep proving yourself.

You had everything you could ever want, but you still felt like you had to earn it.

You thought you had done a good job at keeping it hidden. Imposter syndrome you had heard someone call it at one point. You had looked into it, realizing more and more of it resonated with you. You didn’t feel that you deserved your spot on the team, even though most of the team could agree that you were one of their best fighters.

You were also one of the kindest people on the team, and everyone enjoyed being in your company. Again, you wrote it off as them feeling obligated to talk to you rather than them choosing to talk to you.

Everything you thought about yourself, the degrading names you called yourself, and the way you waved off all of your achievements didn’t match up at all with the way anyone thought about you.

It went unnoticed to most. You would put up a front, small smiles and thank you’s occasionally. There would be small side comments that you would make occasionally, but it was nothing that would cause red flags to arise.

It’s nothing, really.

I didn’t do anything you wouldn’t have done.

It’s no big deal.

No worries

That’s why I’m here I guess

Compliments were deflected. Whenever you received criticism you would internalize it even though you knew it was nothing against you. Friendly advice to improve job performance. But for you, it reinforces the thought that your performance needed to be improved.

No matter what you did, you would never be good enough. You used to chase achievements, telling yourself that if you did well enough, if you did good things, that you would feel a sense of self worth. That maybe if you achieved things you would be filled with a sense of pride.

Instead you were left feeling as though you didn’t deserve any of the recognition you received. In a way, it made you feel even more insecure.

You thought that if you accepted the praise you would seem self indulgent or boastful that if you said what your achievements were you would seem prideful. So you accepted them with a small smile and thank you. At least until people moved onto the next topic and you drop the smile when it seemed safe. When no one was watching.

When you thought no one was watching.

Which is how Bucky had come to notice the discomfort you had.

When he had first joined the team, he was very quiet. He did a lot of listening and observing, not wanting to speak much himself. That was understandable to anyone. So when you had been introduced to him and your skillset had been mentioned and you waved it off saying no big deal, he had noticed how you shifted as if you were uncomfortable and your smile dropped as soon as the attention was on someone else.

He didn’t think much of it. If anything it had to do with being uncomfortable around him.

But as time passed he started relaxing around everyone too, especially you. He was still accepting what he had done and who he was now. He was still reserved but he wasn’t silent. The two of you had become good friends, being two of the quieter personalities on the team.

Now you had someone to keep you company when you stayed at the outskirts of Tony’s parties.

But as more time went on, he noticed small things that you did. Behaviors you had, things you said. Clutch phrases. The way you would seem embarrassed when people complimented you. The way you would say that there were no worries even if you were the only reason that a mission was successful.

Sometimes when you thought you were alone or no one would hear, he would catch you mumbling things to yourself. Things like yeah right to compliments before giving a genuine response. The slight shakes of the head in protest. The nervous habits you had when you got a compliment. The little things that others were too distracted to notice, too small to

Bucky was an observant man.

Which is how one night, you hadn’t realized him come into your room to talk to you about something that Bucky completely forgot about once he saw you. You were sitting down at your desk, head in your hands and rubbing your eyes.

Jesus why am I so stupid

What the fuck is wrong with me

They don’t mean what they say

How could they like you?

I’m worthless

Just like everyone else

I don’t belong here

You were so trapped by the marathon of degrading thoughts that you hadn’t heard Bucky come in. He stood beside you, concern etched on his face.

“Y/n?” you jumped slightly and took your hands away from your face, blinking in surprise. You had been crying. Why was he here?

“Y/n what’s wrong?” he asked, coming over to you.

You shook your head and shrugged, wiping a few loose tears from your face. “‘M fine Buck,” you whispered, struggling to keep your emotions out of your voice.

“Y/n,” Bucky said, crouching down in front of you. “You wouldn’t be crying if something wasn’t wrong. It’s okay to be upset, there’s nothing wrong with that. Just tell me why you’re upset.”

You shook your head again. “Really Buck, I’m fine.”

“Y/n, I may not be able to read minds like Wanda, but I know something’s bothering you.it’s okay.”

You sighed, taking a breath before looking at him. “Do you guys really mean it?” you suddenly asked meekly.

Bucky drew his eyebrows together in confusion. “Mean...what?”

“After missions, when you say I did the right thing, that I did a good job, that you guys need me - do you mean it?”

Bucky looked more puzzled now. “Yeah, of course we do. Why else would we say things like that?”

“If you thought you were supposed to.” you said suddenly. “Or if, you know, you wanted to be polite, or you thought I wanted to hear it, or you didn’t really mean it I don’t really know I -”

“Y/n, hold on, slow it down...What?” Bucky said. “Why on Earth would you think that?”

You crossed your arms and shrugged. “I dunno, I just don’t really feel like I’m all that valuable to you guys here. I don’t do anything you guys couldn’t do without me. I make so many mistakes all the time and no matter how hard I try I just don’t feel like I belong here.”

Bucky took a minute to look at you. He had known you doubted yourself but this was beyond what he had thought. To think that you, y/n, weren’t valuable to this team was a crazy idea to him

To you it was the truth.

“Y/n, no, we need you. Why on Earth would you think you don’t belong?”

“Because I haven’t earned it. I’m on the team, I fight with you guys, but I still don’t feel like I should be. The mistakes I make all the time, the wrong calls, the selfish calls, bad judgements...I could go on. I just...no matter how much good I do it doesn’t make the mistakes go away.”

“Y/n, you are one of the best people we have, we -”

“No I’m not,” you said firmly, surprising Bucky. You shook your head. “You guys don’t need me. I don’t deserve to be on this team.”

“And I do?” Bucky asked.

You looked back at him. “What do you mean? Of course you do. Your the best fighter we have, Steve's best friend, we need you.”

“But I’ve made so many mistakes. You know all of the horrible things that I’ve done y/n. I was made into a weapon.” he said.”

“Bucky you know that wasn’t your fault. You didn’t choose that and you would've done anything to stop it. That’s different. You’re a great fighter and a good person, Bucky.”

“So are you.” he stated simply. “Do you believe that?”

You took a deep breath. “I believe you believe that. But that doesn’t mean it’s true.”

Bucky put his hands on your shoulders. “You are a fighter. A hero. You’ve saved so many people doing things that some of us couldn’t or wouldn’t do. People out there remember how you saved them. How you protected them and gave yourself to them. That was you, no one else. You are a part of this team, you help make it what it is. We would be lost without you. You put your blood, sweat, and tears into this team. You give your heart and soul to this team. You’ve earned every goddamn bit of praise you get and more. You fought your place onto this team and you deserve to be here just as much as everyone else here. So when your head tells you that you don’t belong or that we don’t need you, tell it to fuck off. Because you’re one of the best people we have.”

By now you had tears in your eyes again, but not ones of shame. Ones of appreciation and relief. You had wanted to hear those words directly for so long and to be affirmed in that way was something you needed. “Thank you Bucky,” you said softly, giving him one of your first genuine smiles at a compliment.

He squeezed your shoulder reassuringly. “Anytime. Anytime you want a reminder, you let me know. I’ll tell you as many times as you need to hear it before you can start to believe it for yourself.”

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gaywatch · 2 years

Note

(more Golden Lovers stuff, sorry) i looked back at the previous posts i sent you, haha, and the last one was a lot further back than i thought, so i realized the more recent message might need a little more context, because i'm not sure it quite comes across just how big of a deal this was.

basically, AEW is a brand new American wrestling company that started in 2019. so 2019 was an extremely exciting time to be a wrestling fan, and then the pandemic hit, and 2020 was an extremely depressing time to be a wrestling fan. miraculously, AEW managed to weather the pandemic due to a combination of luck (they happened to have access to an outdoor stadium, and were able to run no crowd shows) and creative ingenuity. it was a real trial by fire for them, since they'd only been on TV for less than half a year when they had to completely change their entire operation.

WWE is obviously the global industry leader in wrestling, but AEW has, uh, caught up to them way faster than anyone thought possible (partially due to the fact that they adapted to the pandemic conditions way better than their competitor lol). the Washington Post has an article that gets into some of this.

this summer, there was a pretty huge turning point for AEW because they brought a massively popular wrestler named CM Punk out of retirement, and then shortly after that, they managed to sign two huge WWE stars: Adam Cole and Daniel Bryan.

now, one thing that AEW really had going for them over WWE was that they cared about long term storytelling (basically, stories developing over multiple years as opposed to over a few weeks or months). their top story was centered around Hangman Adam Page, self-professed "anxious millennial cowboy", who struggled with insecurity after failing to meet expectations in AEW's first year. just as they planned, Hangman's story really resonated with people! Kenny had a huge role in this because he basically became the villain that Hangman would need to beat before he could finally become the face of the company that he was meant to be.

of course, in order for that to happen, Kenny had to have a massive run as a heel, and that's what he spent december 2020-early november 2021 doing. it was a pretty amazing run because his character became obsessed with collecting belts from different promotions, and it ushered in the so-called "Forbidden Door" era of wrestling, where wrestlers from different promotions could walk between them (this is how we got an AEW/NJPW partnership).

this resulted in him getting voted PWI's #1 wrestler of the year. it was his second time winning it, and it marked the first time that a non-WWE wrestler had won it twice. they interviewed him after he won it, and naturally Kota came up (this was a shoot interview, so he wasn't in character). he said: "for someone as influential as Ibushi was to my career, inside and outside, i feel it would be an injustice for [the story] to die"

in-character, Kenny had spent the past year constantly referencing Kota and betraying his insecurity that basically no matter what he did, no matter what heights he achieved, he couldn't measure up to Kota. he referenced him in podcast interviews, on twitter, instagram, in promos on Impact, even in the Mexican promotion AAA, which is literally geoblocked right now so international fans can't legally view their content.

Kenny faced Bryan Danielson in a really great match (a literal dream match for many fans), and in a match that had garnered one of AEW's biggest audiences yet, held in the biggest venue they'd booked, which Kenny knew everyone would be watching, he busted out Kota's old finisher again, the phoenix splash (and missed it like he always does). one of my favorite aspects of his work is that he includes these little gay love letters in all of his best matches so that the Golden Lovers story is literally impossible for anyone to ignore or write out of his work.

it's just cool to me that he's managed to do all of this and basically sit at the top of the industry and somehow still keep the story alive, against all odds

This context is delectable darling, thank youuuuuuuuuuuuu.

Call me a silly optimist but one day there will be a Big Gay Kiss during a wrestling match and the world will never be the same.

#GW Asks #Golden Lovers

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surveillance-0011 · 3 years

Text

TBOI Headcanons: Horsemen

Death

He/him

He’s...nice. Not a good person by any means but he’s the most polite of the bunch. Kind of strange though. Creepily calm, a bit sarcastic, and he has a pretty morbid view on the world.

Reserved and usually grumpy. He can be rather chipper off-duty, though. Putting up with the others takes a lot of energy from him.

Tired....

A bit neurotic but good at coming off as a down-to-earth guy.

He’s the most book-smart of the bunch and he’s fairly wise. A bit emotionally stunted, but he tries his best to be mature and make the right choices.

Death is more than a bit nihilistic and pessimistic. He has a hard time just... caring, mostly about himself.

Not to say he’s completely apathetic, he can be pretty empathetic but he tries not to act on that too much because if he did his job would have broken him by now.

He likes to think he’s got it all under control, but he does not. He’s more prone to pettiness and stupid decisions than he’d like to admit.

That being said he’s been pretty good with like. Growing and maturing though. He’s changed more than he realizes in just in the past.... decade or so ago. A bit of a late start for an immortal but hey at least he’s slightly less of a scumbag.

It’s usually not easy to anger him unless he’s really tired or something’s already set him off. When something does piss him off badly he’s a bit prone to freaking out. He’s not very good at handling his emotions.

Sees his own job as a necessary evil, because hey, someone’s gotta do it.

Interested in botany/gardening, as well as literature.

Genuinely nice- or at least polite- to the kids when he’s not supposed to be murdering them. He sees no reason to go out of his way to do so, especially since unwarranted cruelty towards others has only bit him in the ass.

Famine’s older brother. The two have always had each other’s backs.

Diligent, and always considers the logistics to things instead of acting on emotion alone.

Protective of the other horsemen.

Pretty short tbh

His horse’s name is Chili.

Famine

She/he (bigender). You can use both interchangeably or only use one set, she doesn’t care. Fine with they/them too but it’s never really clicked w/ him enough to be preferred.

Usually prefers more masculine terms (brother, sir, mr...) but fine with anything.

.Flips between bouncing off the walls and having no energy whatsoever.

Impulsive, she’s got terrible judgement and has the most idiotic of ideas sometimes.

Fairly easygoing, tries to forgive and forget and doesn’t let little transgressions get to her

Actually pretty damn sad. Needs some self care but never looks after herself.

I mean she’s optimistic and usually happy but like. There’s always just a bit of sadness, you know? He’s dealt with a lot and it’s definitely taken its toll on him.

Disaster Lesbian

Tries to be a graceful loser but she can get a bit more competitive than she’d like to admit.

Has a hard time relating to others and considering how they feel, at least when it comes to anything more complex than “bad thing happened now I’m sad/mad” He’s a drifter by nature, always onto the next big thing for a quick thrill.

Eats a lot. It’s never enough.

Plants and a good deal of food will decay if she touches them, or even gets too close to them.

Like his brother he has some interest in nature. Famine is more on the adventurous side, though. She’s tried to live off the land a few times with varying success.

Named her horse Frisk

Pestilence

He/him

Calm, quiet, but also a pessimistic jackass.

Always in a bad mood. I mean, he’s permanently sick with just about everything contagious and deadly. You’d be grumpy, too!

Surprisingly high pain tolerance. A good deal of his nerves have probably just.. shut down or something. Or maybe he’s just numb to everything after a lifetime of pain.

Sleeps a lot

Dislikes his situation a lot, but doesn’t mind the company of the others.

Lazarus is terrified of this dude. The other kids are mostly grossed out or annoyed by him.

Likes to be alone.

Fairly smart, but comes off as absent minded bc he’s pretty much too sick to function. He slips up a lot and he’s pretty damn clumsy

Probably the most rational of the bunch, when he’s not in airplane mode.

He’s also got a fairly strong moral compass. He doesn’t really like fighting the kids unlike War and Famine. Or just having to go up against people in general. Hell he hates the fact people get sick because of him. At the very least Pest has higher standards and is fairly transparent

But that isn’t to say he’s a good person. Yeah he doesn’t go out of his way to hurt others for shits and giggles and He’s Not Conquest but he doesn’t ever object to any of the shit the kids are put through and well. Yknow he still does kill them. He will also encourage some of War’s antics when it’s against someone he dislikes.

Tries to be as supportive as he can for the others. He knows he can’t do too much without overexerting so he tries to be encouraging and comforting as he can.

This compassion usually isn’t extended to humans, though.

Not very emotive, the only emotions he ever really expresses would be disdain and mild concern.

Not very fond of Conquest but they don’t hate each other. They actually work together well, too.

Friends with Mahalath. They’re pretty close!

His horse’s name is Moses.

War

He/it

He’s not very friendly, he’s pretty defensive and always on edge.

Out of all the horsemen, he’s probably the one closest with the Beast.

Lots of scars n injuries, it’s practically stitched together

One gold tooth

Impulsive, prefers solving issues through violence than through reason.

He can be fairly clever, though.

Intentionally angers/upsets others, likes causing problems and ruining things for people.

Desires wealth and power

Gets burnt out pretty quickly.

Emotional, insecure, and sensitive, and he hates this part of him. Definitely overcompensates for it.

Explosive temper, quite literally. Catches fire when upset and explodes if it’s more intense. Damage done to him also makes it happen. It’s not entirely voluntary but can be held off, and his “sobbing” sprite is him doing exactly that (but he’s probably also trying not to cry lmao). In the Ultra War fight, however...

Its daily routine leaves a lot to be desired. It wakes up, goes to work, then it goes home and just. Sits and rots.

Also, his diet is god awful. Please just eat a fruit or vegetable for once maybe you’d feel better goddamn.

He cannot remember if his horse is actually a horse or not but uhh he named her Bellum.

Conquest

He/they.

High and mighty sort of attitude. Can be very selfish. Stubborn, set in his ways. Gets defensive if you call him out or tell him he’s wrong.

Gay + nonbinary but in the closet (and denial) about both of those things. They’re trying to unlearn years’ worth of internalized bigotry.

Used to be worse, now trying to unlearn his toxic behaviors. But he’s still awful.

Doesn’t remember anything before their death. However they’ve held very strong Christian (specifically Catholic) beliefs all their life and they have a pretty black and white way of thinking.

Very cold and clinical. He has a bit of a temper but there’s a sort of calmness to everything he does even when he’s pissed.

Just as argumentative and aggressive as War but like more of a threat.

The others call him Connie sometimes, especially Death, who practically almost always calls him by this nickname.

Doesn’t harbor ill will towards Pestilence. They might have been overshadowed, but it’s not Pestilence’s own fault. If anything, being out of the spotlight has been good for Conquest, even if they do miss the attention sometimes. The only reason the two dislike each other is because their personalities clash.

Now if there’s anyone he hates that would be the Headless Horseman. Fuck that guy amiright

Very protective of Death. The two are close, Death is probably the only person who is consistently nice to him.

Utterly terrified of needles (hypodermic, not sewing needles, though he’s not good with sharp objects tbh) and medical stuff makes him anxious

Seems very... off. Just weird vibes but no one can pin point what about him is wrong.

Oh uh and his horse’s name is Josephine.

#the binding of isaac #binding of isaac #tboi conquest #tboi death #tboi war #tboi pestilence #tboi famine #tboi headcanons #long post #some of this is tentative but for the most part this is just. here to stay

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laraplisetski · 3 years

Text

Dating Iwaizumi Hajime

A/n: This isnt related to the headcanons but I have this request for Seijoh’s libero and since I'm doing dating hcs for all of Seijoh by their jersey numbers. So anyways please wait a little bit longer as I might tag you in the dating hcs for Watari. Sorry for any mistakes tho.

Special announcement!

I just reached a hundred follows today! Thankyou for for following me and I'm so thankful for all the support. If I could, I would try to show more gratitude in any way.

Words: 1790

Tags: @imthatchishiyasimp, @kekozume

(These arms tho)

Iwaizumi routinely calls you something like baka or dumbass but he says it in good faith.

For example whenever you do something stupid Iwaizumi call you a dumbass.

But he doesn't mean it, it's just how he shows his worry.

He's just a big ass tsundere, you cannot tell me otherwise.

A lot of people think Iwaizumi would be a gentleman but like I feel like he would treat you like Oikawa but like way less harsher.

Like he would let you call him nicknames like ‘iWa-ChAn’ and just blush and call you dumbass.

*cough cough* tsundere *cough cough*

Also he's bad at giving compliments,

Like you'll be wearing nice clothes that really fit your form and he’ll really like you wearing them.

And you'll ask him if he likes your clothes, and hell just blush furiously grab your hand and just start walking.

‘Iwa, do you like what I wore today? It's my favorite outfit.’

‘Ye-yeah, we have to go, we'll miss our bus.’

One time you guys had a huge argument over this.

You feel insecure because he treated you more like Oikawa who was his best friend than his s/o.

He tried really hard after that to compliment you whenever you looked good.

(In his opinion you always did)

And you really appreciated him trying.

After that your bond grew stronger as both of you knew that you would be willing to for the other.

As your bond grew stronger the more you started to open up to him about your struggles.

Now Hajime isn't a very open person. (Well he is but he doesn't like to admit it.)

And he's a little brash and very straightforward with his feelings or his thoughts.

So when you're acting down he straight up asks you what's wrong and doesn't consider that you don't/wouldn't want to talk about it.

This might make you a little more agitated since you're already very sad but when he realizes that you don't want to talk about it, he immediately regrets it and apologies straight away.

One thing I love about Iwaizumi as a character is that he isn't afraid to tell the truth even if he knows he's in the wrong.

But these things only happened in the start of your relationship because when you two spend much more time together he starts to notice patterns in your behavior and how you act based on how you feel.

That really helps him to know if you're sad, angry or irritated at someone.

Later in the relationship, he knows when to comfort you, when to give you space and when to scold you.

You really appreciate this because he doesn't sugarcoat his words and he gives you advice that is honest and comes from his heart.

Moving on, let's talk about his friends.

By friends I mean Oikawa.

When Iwaizumi first got a s/o Oikawa was fuming because

‘wHo wOuLd DaRe taKe mY iWa-cHaN aWay frOm mE’

Iwa slapped him on the back of his head after he said that.

After that every time you would come to school, Oikawa would stick to Iwaizumi like a leech

(for comedic purposes of course)

Iwaizumi found it amusing at first how jealous you would be that Oikawa was getting all your boyfriends attention.

But then as time passed you started waving to Oikawa whenever he was sticking with Iwa and he started waving back.

After that you two developed a friendship.

You know what this means.

Hell for Iwaizumi has started.

So Iwaizumi would always walk you to class in the morning and you guys would sit with Oikawa for lunch.

Now that you're friends with Oikawa.

Ohoho, I'm sorry Iwa you have to suffer.

So you guys get along very well and Iwaizumi is very thankful for that because the two most important people (other than his family) are getting along.

It's fine for the first two weeks but then you and Oikawa develop this sibling-like bond.

It's almost identical to Iwa and Oikawa’s bond but because you share the same sense of humor Oikawa doesn't get teased.

Also one time Oikawa convinced you to call Hajime, Iwa-Chan for a day.

To say Iwaizumi was not pleased was an understatement.

The good thing is Oikawa got the bad end of it but it was worth it.

Also you guys eat lunch together and you and Oikawa keep making bad jokes and Iwaizumi has no choice but to sigh and deal with it, cause he loves both of you.

Poor iWa-ChAn.

You also tend to stick up for Oikawa during practices when the team is teasing him.

Due to you thinking of him as your little brother (It doesn't matter if you're older or younger Oikawa gives off major annoying little brother vibes.)

And the team cant rebel against you cause if they did Iwaizumi would murder them.

Other than that they absolutely love you cause you take care of the first and second years and keep them in line.

And you get along with Matsun and Makki and share memes with them.

Surprisingly Kyotani also respects you.

And he actually listens to your advice.

(Because of this Oikawa will whine about how no one respects him and goes on a rant and then you have to cheer him up while simultaneously giving everyone attention in the team.)

Being a team mom for Seijoh is very hard.

Also I feel like the reason Kyotani respected you when you became Iwa’s s/o was because you were Iwa’s s/o.

But now his view on you has changed.

He's very inspired by you and looks up to you.

He's always amazed by how you can be such a naturally caring person and be such a good leader and team player.

He also might come to you for advice if he had an argument with someone.

If you're a volleyball player as well and you're good, be ready for Kyotani following you around everywhere asking questions.

It's sort of endearing.

You and Iwa and Kyotani have this parent-son relationship and it's so wholesome I swear.

(Please adopt him.)

You do not only help keep the team in check you help them with matches too.

Like maybe getting their opponents videos for Oikawa.

You also sit down with the first and second years to watch their opponents videos and point out what seems peculiar and what not.

One time the person who usually took videos of the matches was unavailable so you went out of your way to do it yourself.

When Iwa found out he hugged you really tight and had this proud look in his eyes.

I bet when Oikawa found out he just clung to you and started full on crying.

(You're basically their manager at this point.)

Also when the team found out that you taped it yourself and all that, their respect from you went out the roof.

Now you are a goddess among them.

(Kyotani literally be looking at you with star eyes)

Enough about the team tho

Let's get back to Iwa and you.

You always try to be sneaky and steal his clothes but he catches you midway trying to sneak one of his jumpers out.

But he lets you have them anyways cause you look fucking cute in them.

Whenever he sees you wearing his clothes this man just blushes like 50 shades of red.

(I'm sorry pun wasn’t intended)

But anyways what I'm trying to say is that he blushes a deep red and basically just becomes a stuttering mess.

You like kiss him on the cheek like this once and he's putty in your hands.

I'm not even kidding.

Also Iwa’s pretty muscular so no matter how long you are his hoodies will always be loose on you in some way.

(sorry muscular people)

And Iwa finds it so cute like

His s/o in his hoodie that's all loose on them.

Just like internally crying at that point.

Also mind you Iwaizumi loves back hugs like.

Imagine you are wearing one of his articles of clothing and you just casually back hug him.

Man will short circuit but will never admit he likes them because hes a

Tsundere~~

But this might just be my love of back hugs talking who knows.

When he doesn't have practice he usually stays at home and cuddles with you or you have movie nights with Tooru but that is rare cause he has to take care of his cousin.

But you guys just calmly cuddle and no one is really speaking.

Just basking in each other's presence and being comfortable in each other's company.

Sometimes one of you falls asleep and the other just strokes their fingers through their hair.

It's basically the same when he comes back from practice but the only difference is that he takes off his shirt and you massage his strong muscles with some oil.

After that y'all cuddle but you're blushing the entire time because like Iwaizumi’s shirtless excuse me!

‘And this bitch just goes,

‘Take a picture it'll last longer’

Like what, how do you expect yourself not to short circuit.

And curse you Oikawa, you don't have to teach him the ways of flirting.

Usually you wouldn't react to that type of comment but he's shirtless and now you're putty in his hands.

So you both are like beans.

Also I'm like a hundred percent sure Iwaizumi is a big spoon.

He just loves caging you in his arms and making sure you feel protected.

It also keeps him very grounded and just honestly happy to have you there with him.

There was this one incident in which you and Oikawa were bantering and Iwaizumi wasn't having any of it so he picked you up and threw you on his shoulder. And walked away like nothing happened.

After that you guys sort of had an impromptu make out session in the club room, which was unfortunately interrupted by Kindaichi barging in.

Bless him.

And his eyes.

You and Iwaizumi had to sit him down and make him swear to not tell anyone.

After that you two continued but Kindaichi might've accidentally spilled to Kunimi

Opps.

Bonus points

Iwaizumi likes to buy purple hyacinths for you on valentines day because it's your favorite flower and to also say sorry for when he was not boyfriend like in the beginning of your relationship.

(Yes I referenced Purple Hyacinth the webtoon, go watch it)

Also the team has a custom made Seijoh jacket, just for you!

And the first time you saw it you just hugged Iwaizumi and started sobbing because these boys were too precious and just too pure. (I love Seijoh)

The end.

#haikyuu iwaizumi #iwaizumi hajime #iwazumi x reader #iwaizumi prompt #iwaizumi headcanons #iwaizumi dating hc #x reader #xreader #x gender neutral reader #haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#Haikyuu #haikyu x reader #haikyuu prompts #haikyuu headcanons #anyways #bye😃

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meichenxi · 3 years

Text

*rant commencing*

ok guys let’s sit down and have a think about the way we talk to kids, particularly neurodivergent ones, and the weight it carries

the other day, I opened up to a friend about something really hurtful my best (and only) friend said to me when I was fifteen. It was a moment of emotional intimacy and the first time I had brought it up seven years later and, once again, I got laughed at and told I was too fucking sensitive

and ok maybe yeah I was a ridiculous child. I’m a ridiculous adult, that shouldn’t be surprising. But this hurt and hurt and hurt and I was trying to think about why this in particular and not anything else was so painful

so here’s the situation. at fifteen, like many smart kids, everyone thought the world was open to me. Ok I had no social skills to speak of and was ostracised by teachers and students and family, but I was an optimistic kid, and in a disaster of a home situation (involving kidnappings and court cases and running away and being out of school for a year and a brother starting drugs at 12 and living in a shelter and basically just a LOT) I was always the smiley helpful one. and apart from being defeated by very simple mechanisms like idk drawers or biscuit packets, I picked things up quickly. I took GCSEs early and extra and tutored others; I was a regional competitive swimmer in breaststroke and open water; I taught myself the flute and got into an international touring youth orchestra without lessons; I won a poetry competition for adults in primary school; I played competitive netball and was a long distance runner; I drew and sold my art; I wrote shitty novels and started making conlangs and was interviewed on bbc world about it; I loved performing and was invited to join a theatre company when I left school; and my biggest passion in the entire world apart from Tolkien was martial arts. And the best thing was for my parents - one of whom was disabled and didn’t work and the other who was a cleaner - is that I worked two paper rounds and tutored younger children and earned all of the money for it myself. blah blah blah. I was your mum’s friend’s kid.

well, I’m a disaster adult, so you can probably guess that none of that lasted for very long. and there are gazillions of people here with exactly the same story.

the point in question, though, was when I was fifteen and thinking about sixth form (the last two years of school in the UK) it was becoming clear alarmingly fast that you weren’t allowed to just keep doing everything you loved. at some point you had to make a choice.

but how could I give up swimming for music? Or music for languages? Or languages for athletics? Or athletics for theatre? or, actually, all of them but one???? how did people just know what they had to do with their lives? how did they choose?

the problem was, I said to my friend, I know I could do well at any of them, so how was I supposed to choose? (tactless and a stupid thing to say and also just not true but I was fifteen and simultaneously disgustingly cocky and cripplingly insecure) And he laughed and said, well, fuck you then.

oh noooo. poor meeeeeee. I’m so fucking good at things what do I dooooo

I haven’t stopped thinking about that comment for seven years. Every single time I think about wasting my potential, every time I can’t sleep because I’m terrified that I’m not being productive or useful and hating myself because I’m upset that I can’t do something right away and I know it’s a stupid thing to be upset about - I think about that comment. I’m lucky. It’s alright for some.

because, actually, being expected to know what to do with your life aged 15 is a fucking terrifying thing. we were kids at fifteen being told to make decisions as if we had all the facts, as if we weren’t also being blindfolded and spun around in circles until we couldn’t stand. Do you do what your parents say? what you think you want to do? what your teachers say? do you just stay in education even though it’s not for you because your dream is stupid, or because you don’t have a dream like everyone else seems to? are you supposed to have a dream?

*it’s NOT a stupid thing to worry about*

particularly when? well, when your entire self worth equates to the things that you output, the things that you do. so just for a moment, put yourself in the shoes of all of these wonderful, dazzling, damaged, crazy kids with big dreams and big hearts, kids that are struggling right now and kids that are our future, and imagine that you’ve been told since you were old enough to read or speak or walk that you’re just so very clever

isn’t it just wonderful how clever you are? isn’t it just great how we never need to worry about you? you’re such an easy child, it’s a blessing. always so considerate, so thoughtful, never making a fuss! isn’t it just fantastic how well you do in school? I can’t imagine what it must be like to have a child who went to all of those nasty parties. you’re so dedicated

raise your hand if you were only ever told you were good. raise your hand if you were never told you were kind.

so, what happens? you take a child, and you tell them for its entire childhood that they’re clever. You don’t tell them that they’re creative, or hard-working, or dedicated, or driven, or helpful. You let them know that it’s ok that they’re weird, because they’re going to be successful. what do you think parents say to their kid who’s crying because she has no friends and she doesn’t understand what the other children are thinking and why they would hurt each other like that? even good parents, the very best of them, say things like: you’re just more mature than they are. it doesn’t matter. keep your head down - you’ll show them.

your child, in the best case scenario, has access to her hyperfixation that makes the world big and bright and beautiful. she’s a bit weird, but it’s kind of cute. anyway, she’s good at it. and as long as she succeeds, conventionally, and you get to brag, then it’s ok that she’s a little bit unconventional.

and then things to break, just a little. and then, aged eleven, your child is having an asthma attack in the classroom because she got so anxious she couldn’t answer a maths question she couldn’t breathe. it’s ok, her parents tell her the next day. you’re just not good at maths - that’s alright. you don’t have to be good at everything

your child, because she’s perceptive, begins to realise that things don’t get better as you get older. people are just as cruel at 12 as they are at 7, and they’ll be just as cruel at 15. and then one day, as a bad joke because she doesn’t really understand humour, she writes a fake text to her dad from someone’s phone in legalese that actually has a secret code hidden it in that she knows her dad will crack right away because he’s brilliant. she thinks it’s hilarious. her father thinks he is being threatened, and spends the next week in meltdown, bedridden and burnt-out. and when she owns up, he turns and snaps at her, and says as if you could write something like that. an ADULT wrote this, not a fucking child

and suddenly, that cleverness they kept talking about? they don’t even understand that.

suddenly, no one sees her at all.

she needs to learn to be like the other kids. to be like a fucking child. and while she’s learning, she doesn’t speak for a year

that happened to me, but take your pick - I’m sure you don’t have to look far to find examples of your own.

My point is this: if you tell a child for their entire life that the only thing that is worthy of being loved is what they achieve, if every time they do something they love you tell them oh, you could be a famous writer! you’re so talented! rather than saying that you loved listening to their story, if you only praise them when they’re good and quiet and convenient and tell them that as long as they succeed, it doesn’t matter if they don’t have friends or if they’re miserable, and THEN you tell them to choose ONE THING and drop 90% of everything that makes them who they are -

what the hell did you THINK was going to happen??

because here’s the first thing. for many kids, whether that’s because of neurodivergence or age maturity or whatever, hyper fixations and hobbies aren’t just things they like to do. THEY ARE LIFELINES. they’re the things these kids go to when they’re hurt, angry, upset, because they make sense. for many kids, especially but not always girls, they are able to camouflage themselves and mask tendencies of neurodivergence because they’re ‘good students’. at a family gathering once, my mum, so frustrated at my inability and lack of desire to talk to any members of my extended family, snatched my German grammar book and locked it in the boot of the car. knowing that I escape and read it in the toilet was the only thing keeping me going, exhausted and stressed and overwhelmed. I vomited on the grass.

and here’s the second thing. you tell us from an early age that they only way we’ll ever be acceptable to the rest of society is if we succeed. autistic kids are fine, as long as they’re international maths olympiad champions. adhd kids are fine, as long as they’re famous athletes. if you’re obsessed with musicals that’s ok, as long as that obsession leads to a well-paying job as a successful writer on Broadway.

and then you tell us that we only have one chance at that success? and this decision determines the rest of our lives? and that we had so much potential when we were kids, and we better not waste it now? that not everyone is so lucky to be able to choose between so many things??

because being asked to choose between these things isn’t being asked to choose a hobby. when the only way anyone else defines you positively is by your success in one area, that becomes your entire identity.

so no, we’re not being too sensitive when you ask us to pick and choose what career, or what hobby to take forward. you’re not asking about hobbies. you’re asking us to choose what kind of person we want to be. you’re asking us to choose the most impactful way we can give back to the world, because we can’t waste those god-given talents. you’re asking us to figure out, still a child and hopelessly lost, what our purpose on this planet is. and you’re looking at us as if the ways that we survived all of these years, the things we clung to for comfort, are things we can just cast aside without further thought

ask me now, and I’ll tell you that’s not the way things work. we have second chances and third ones and tenth ones, we can be different things to different people and we can do different things at different parts in our lives, and be successful in different areas. life isn’t a fucking flowchart. and I’m still trying to come to terms with all the things I could have been, and my freak-outs about ‘wasted potential’ are so clockwork I could plan my calendar around them, but I’m beginning to understand that life doesn’t end when you’re twenty, or when you haven’t written a best-seller by eighteen. you have time.

but at fifteen? at fifteen, that question broke me.

do you know what you can do instead? you can show a little thoughtfulness. you can be kinder, and lead by example, and praise your kids when they’re kind too. when your son runs to you and shows you what you think is a better picture than you - a stick figure artisan, if you say so yourself - could ever create, you can actually just say you really like it. you can ask him if that’s him and daddy and the dog on a cloud. describe the picture back to him, and engage with this thing he’s made from his imagination - tell him the clouds he’s drawn are so big and fluffy and white, and ask if there are giant spiders living there. you know how to shut a child up? tell them yes dear, it’s wonderful. don’t be that person. promote your kid’s creativity - ask questions, have fun, play with this thing they’ve made - and not destroy it

when your daughter comes to you and shows you a song she’s written, don’t tell her she’s so talented or that she could be a musician one day. just sing along. ask her why she wrote it, and what she was thinking of when she did. ask her if she could make it different for two people singing it at the same time.

and if your child just really, really loves maths? let them do maths. it’s ok if their interests are stereotypical - as long as they love it and it’s fun, supporting them is wonderful. the best present my father ever got me was five hours of tutoring - an introduction to linguistics!! - when I turned twelve, starting on my birthday at 8am. I had never felt so understood and so loved.

as much as these simple things can destroy someone’s life, can stop them talking for a year, you have the chance to be that one voice of kindness that is a friend where a young person needs it most.

for me, this was the Bus Lady. I never knew her first name because I forgot immediately and was too embarrassed to ask again, but we got the bus together for two years right before I applied to university - she was a trainee teacher at my school. she saw that I missed tutor group and sat in the corridor every morning writing, and that I ran laps for an hour every lunchtime instead of sitting alone. but she came and sat with me one morning and asked what I was doing; I was developing a new shorthand and told her so warily.

she didn’t raise her eyebrows or say wow, that’s...that’s amazing. instead she frowned and looked at me skeptically and said ‘But why would you do that? There are plenty of functional shorthands out there - what does your shorthand have that they don’t? Tell me about it.’

I had no idea what to say

this was the first time anyone had actually ENGAGED in any capacity with what I was doing. and just like that, just by treating me seriously and asking valid questions and pointing out inconsistencies, I was a person who happened to have an idea that was in some serious need of questioning, and not a freak

there’s no way she remembers that interaction; she’s been a teacher now for year and probably doesn’t even remember who I am. But I had been this close to not going to university, to not bothering, and she made me stop, and wait a moment

she will never know the difference that that conversation and two months of kindness on the bus from a stranger made in my life.

so let’s be kind to each other, please. let’s be forgiving. let’s challenge each other and let’s engage with kids with special interests and listen to them talk. and so to any educators or teachers or parents or even other kids, I want to say - let’s treat our words seriously and with respect, like we treat our children, because they have immense capacity to hurt, because they can be used for good.

to any other fifteen year olds in a similar position, I just want to say: none of us here on tumblr have properly sorted our lives out, but I promise you it does get so much better.

you’re not too sensitive. you’re not a freak. you’re not only acceptable because you succeed. I know if you’re masking you feel you have to and it’s for survival, and I’m sorry, because you shouldn’t have to. and you should never, never have to think that you ‘have it good’ or that you’re lucky and are not allowed to hurt. there’s always some one who has it worse, and you can’t stop beat yourself up about that. fuck anyone who tells you otherwise. if you have gone through trauma, if you have unhealthy coping mechanisms, if you are depressed or anxious or otherwise mentally ill and some of it stems from this, I am so very very sorry. but you will be ok, even if you can’t write for a couple of years, or even if things change. you’ll get there. speaking as someone who is now writing for the first time in six years, drawing for the first time in longer, it’s scary and new and weird, but you will come out the other side.

and you do work hard. and you are creative. and you are loved. and you are so very, very kind.

*rant over*

#neurodivergence #neurodivergent #adhd #autism #giftedness #gifted kids #tag for this fucking awful school system?#neurodivergent kids #parenting #education #long post #meichenxi rants #mental health #trauma #depression #anxiety #mental illness #sorry for the scary tags I don't mean the post to be scary I'm just annoyed #and it got longer than I thought it would

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strawberryaziraphale · 3 years

Text

reddie + office christmas party

“Kaspbrak!”

Eddie looked up, forcing a polite smile at his boss who’d just barged his way into his office. He’d been dreading this moment all week. The invite to the office’s annual Christmas do. He’d always hated it but suffered through it for Myra who just loved the attention. Now, though, things were different. Very different. And he still didn’t want to go.

“John, I know what you’re going to say-”

“Come on, it’s just once a year,” the older man laughed, leaning against the door casually. Eddie gritted his teeth; this conversation wasn’t about to end any time soon, “you can even bring your new little lady.”

Eddie had been about to snap a firm no but now he was just confused, “little lady?”

“Don’t give me that, you can’t hide that spring in your step, that look in your eye. Everyone’s noticed you’re totally getting some,” John smirked lecherously, looking like he’d figured out the secrets of the universe. Oh, they’d assumed Richie was a woman. He’d find it funny if he wasn’t annoyed at being the subject of office gossip, “so you’ll be there.”

He must have nodded in his shock and confusion because the next thing he knew John was grinning and giving him the details of the venue the company had selected. Always some hotel somewhere, plenty of drinks flowing and all the food you could eat. He sighed. Richie was going to love this.

“My office is having a Christmas party,” was the first thing he miserably uttered as he entered the flat. Richie, sprawled on the couch surrounded by tour details as usual, barely looked up.

“Hi, honey, how was your day?”

“Great,” Eddie dropped his briefcase and loosened his tie, approaching the couch. Richie barely moved his legs in time before Eddie collapsed next to him, “oh, wait, no. Because my boss invited us to the Christmas party.”

“Sweet,” Richie closed his laptop and wriggled into a sitting position, fixing his glasses, “I’ve got this new light up reindeer sweater I wanna wear. I think the office stiffs will love it.”

Eddie didn’t know how to tell him he hated the companies gatherings. It was all formal, boring old men talking about their yachts and mistresses. He decided to change the subject, “they think I’ve got a girlfriend. Apparently you can’t hide the fact you’re ‘getting some’.”

Richie was quiet for a moment, clearly thinking about something, “well, I’m sure I can find a light up reindeer dress if you want.”

“No, it’s okay,” Eddie smiled, leaning over and hugging Richie, tucking his head onto his shoulder. Richie kissed the top of his head.

“We don’t have to go, babe,” Richie said softly, stroking Eddie’s arm up and down, “it’s cool. We’ve got nothing to prove.”

“Really?”

“‘course,” Richie scoffed, reaching for Eddie’s chin to tilt his head towards him, “I’m not so insecure as to think it’s because you’re ashamed of me or us. We’ve done all that shit. We’re better than that.”

Eddie leaned up to kiss him, ruffling his hair playfully as he did so, “I am so not ashamed of you and would parade you everywhere if I could,” and then he thought about it. It would be hilarious and wonderful to rub his happiness with Richie in the faces of the assholes he worked with. He grinned, “you know what? Fuck it. Let’s go.”

“Fuck yeah, it’ll be a laugh,” he sat up, taking Eddie with him. He kissed the tip of his nose, “I wanna meet this dick Kyle you keep on about. He can catch these gay hands.”

Eddie laughed, pulling him into a soft kiss, “I love you.”

“Babe, I want you to be real with me,” Richie said all serious in the elevator of the party venue. Eddie didn’t like it when Richie was serious, he wasn’t used to it. He bit his lip nervously, nodding for him to continue. Richie sighed, “sex jokes. On or off the table?”

Eddie breathed a sigh of relief, resisting the urge to elbow Richie right in Rudolph’s stupid red nose on his sweater. He composed himself, shaking hi s head, “I know they’re a bunch of assholes but I still have to work with them.”

“Just a little one?”

“Jesus...”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Richie said smugly, proudly taking Eddie’s hand as the elevator doors opened to their floor.

Richie was used to people staring a pointing at him, the whispering and people trying to figure out if it was actually him. Eddie, meanwhile, was still not used to being with someone famous and he fought the urge to hide behind Richie. Plus, he loved the attention and thrived; He made a show of theatrically bidding Eddie goodbye to fetch their drinks, kissing his hand like an Austen hero before sauntering off. Immediately, Eddie’s colleagues were upon him like a pack of vultures.

“Was that Richie Tozier you were with, Kaspbrak?”

“Uh, yeah...” Eddie muttered, staring off in the direction Richie had disappeared to. He could barely since thanks to the small crowd that had gathered around him, “yeah, he’s my...boyfriend.”

To his surprise, his colleagues didn’t shrink away in disgust or start calling him the names he hadn’t heard since childhood. In fact, they all looked impressed and bombarded him with questions, insisting they’d always been a fan. Vultures indeed. Thankfully, Richie was back in a flash, his light up sweater flashing proudly as he handed him his drink, slinging an arm around Eddie’s shoulder.

“You’re dating Richie Tozier?” The younger intern, Kyle, stared wide eyed, putting on the suck up a little too strong. As Eddie nodded proudly, smiling up at his man, the other man stepped forward, seizing Richie’s hand and shaking it enthusiastically, “I’m a big fan.”

“Thanks,” Richie awkwardly took his hand back, looking around at his captive audience. Real or fake, he was taking his opportunity, “but seriously, that’s shits nothing. I do my best stuff right here,” he ended his wild gesture by smacking Eddie’s ass, winking proudly at his dumb joke.

Eddie’s colleagues fell about laughing, guffawing like they’d heard the funniest joke in the world. Rolling his eyes at the pathetic display of his desperate colleagues, Eddie turned to Richie.

“That was it. I think their heads might explode if you mention anymore about our sex life.”

Richie snorted, leading Eddie away from his colleagues and towards the dance floor, “worth it.”

“That was the best Christmas party I’ve ever been to,” Eddie was laughing, his head fuzzy from the champagne Richie had been plying him with all night. He wasn’t much better off, leaning against the back wall of the elevator, trying his hardest not to puke. Thank God they’d booked a room in advance, “I thought they were gonna, like, pass out from the effort of not being homophobic.”

“They were trying so hard,” Richie giggled, gesturing wildly around the elevator, “I-I only saw a couple of twitching eyes when I mentioned how great sucking dick is.”

“The fake proposal was the best bit,” Eddie was on cloud nine. He’d remember the confused faces of his colleagues for many more Christmases to come. Richie snorted, stumbling after Eddie out of the elevator.

“What makes you so sure it was fake?”

“Because, and I mean this Richard Tozier, you,” he booped Richie’s nose, kissing it afterwards, “you are not proposing marriage to me in some sleazy hotel venue room in front of all my fake fucking homophobic colleagues.”

“Hmm,” Richie took hold of Eddie’s hand, leading him towards their hotel room. He didn’t say anything else and Eddie wondered if he’d offended. For one horrible moment, he considered it might have actually been genuine. He was about to apologise when Richie stopped them, suddenly looking a lot more sober, “what about in a lavishly decorated hotel room in front of our very best friends?��

As he spoke, Richie pushed the door open to reveal their room covered in rose petals, balloons and candles. A laptop was set up on the table, displaying all their friends on Zoom, each of them waving enthusiastically. Eddie was far too tipsy for this, he decided as he started to tear up. He was full on crying by the time Richie fell to one knee, holding out a sparkling engagement ring.

“Edward Kaspbrak, will you marry me?”

Eddie nodded, wiping away tears as he eagerly answered his new fiance, “yeah. Yes, Richie, I will marry you.”

He could faintly hear the Losers cheering in the background but he was too lost in Richie to notice. He’d thank them all properly when he wasn’t quite so busy. They separated after a long moment, resting their foreheads together. Eventually, Richie headed to the laptop and crouched in front of it.

“Alright, you lot, shows over. I don’t think my fiance wants to broadcast a live porn show.”

The last thing the Losers heard before the laptop was closed was a very embarrassed ‘Richie!’

#I've had this idea for a while but I'm not sure about it now. it sounded better in my draft #richie x eddie #reddie #eddie x richie #reddie fanfic #my writing

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illegal-spiegel · 4 years

Text

Firsts with Kyoya

Pairing: Kyoya Ootori x f!reader Genre: Fluff, vv light smut Warnings: smut at the end. CHARACTERS ARE AGED UP

First Meeting:

surprisingly enough, the way you two met was through his father

you just moved from America and your dad had business with Kyoya’s

after meeting you, Kyoya’s dad, Yoshio Ootori, was determined to have you meet his son

you made arrangements to come back when his son was there, wanting to please your father

it’s hard to do such a thing

you are an only child and a female

in America, it would’ve been easier to take over his company

but in Japan?

it’s near impossible now

either way, you do all you can to make the man happy

and if making an arranged marriage with this boy would do that, then you’d do it in a heartbeat

even if you’d rather marry someone you love

you came back the next day for lunch, sitting at a big table with the Ootori family and your mother and father

Kyoya was nowhere to be found

suddenly, you hear a boisterous voice come from outside of the large dining room

“But, Kyoya! I need help with my Japanese! I also want to use one of those Kotatsu things!” you hear someone shout in Japanese, but with an accent

you don’t hear a response

instead, you hear a maid softly tell the gentlemen that Kyoya’s family and the guests are waiting in the dining room

there are then quick footsteps to the dining room

two maids open the door and in strolls a blond and a raven-haired male

they both stare at Mr. Ootori before looking around the table

both of their eyes eventually stop on you

“Son, you’re late, and you brought a guest,” Mr. Ootori says with a hidden emotion

they are both silent for a moment before the blond speaks up

“Sorry, Mr. Ootori. I can leave. I held Kyoya up an-”

“It’s alright. Why don’t you both take a seat?” he says in a sugary sweet tone, motioning for a maid to set another place down for the blond

Kyoya was sat right across from you

his gaze makes you feel insecure all of a sudden

“Sorry about being so late. I’ll make it up to you somehow,” Kyoya apologizes to your family

your father speaks up first, smiling at him as he did so

“No worries, young man.”

you could hear his American accent when he spoke

he then glances at you, expecting you to say something

your eyes widen at this realization as you clear your throat

“Oh, uh, yes. It’s quite alright. We were quite early, anyway,” you reassure

Kyoya gives you both a smile, it seeming a bit fake to you but you weren’t about to call him out on it

“Let’s eat,” his father announces

from there, you ate in silence and only spoke when spoken to, just like your father taught you

about halfway through lunch, the blond started speaking to you

he introduced himself and you both started a conversation from there

you couldn’t help to let the serious facade fade and to smile at the boy

he was very sweet and funny, even if he was kind of loud

you discovered he’s quite goofy

after dinner, Mr. Ootori offered to show your dad to his office to talk further about business plans

he instructed his son to ‘entertain’ you

you, Kyoya, and Tamaki made your way out

“What would you like to do, Miss (L/n)?” Kyoya asks in a formal tone

you hold back a frown at his tone

is he always so serious?

“Let’s go to the garden! I’m sure (Y/n) would like it!” Tamaki basically shouts

Tamaki offers you his arm, which you happily take

he then leads you to the garden which you did, in fact, fall in love with

Kyoya was relieved that Tamaki was easily able to entertain you but knew his father would be mad at him if he found out it wasn’t his son who was the one entertaining you

so with that thought, he comes over to you and starts informing you on the different flowers, their meaning, etc.

you spend some time with the two boys in the garden before hearing your dad’s booming voice

you turn and see your father waiting on you, nodding your head to let him know you heard him

you turn back to the boys and flash them a smile, bowing to them since you read that’s what you’re supposed to do when thanking someone

“Thank you for showing me the garden. See ya later,” you thank before walking away to go over to your father

Kyoya’s eyes follow your figure as you leave, the gears in his mind churning

First Time Hanging Out:

Kyoya’s father never told him why exactly he had to interact with you so much

“Text Y/n.” “Invite Y/n over for dinner.” “Give Y/n a call.”

and now, he wants him to take you out

his father made reservations for you two at one of the most expensive restaurants in the area, then making plans to go see a musical

when you saw a limo outside of your house, you grew very nervous

this felt like a date

but like not a date?

Kyoya was taking you to places that couples go on dates but Kyoya just didn’t really seem interested in you?

you get into the limo with a smile slapped onto your face, kindly greeting the handsome male

he greets you before going quiet

he then remembers that he’s supposed to get you to like him or whatever his father said

so, he strikes up a conversation with you

you quietly respond as he speaks to you, feeling a little uncomfortable

about halfway to wherever you’re going, he seems to give up on talking to you

you feel a bit guilty for not really participating in the conversation but how could you?

he was acting like someone is holding a gun to his head and forcing him to talk to you

you sigh as you stare out the window, your eyes lighting up at the sight

the sun was setting, making reds and oranges paint the sky

Kyoya notices the look in your eyes, a weird feeling coming up in his chest

he helps you out of the car once you reach the restaurant, not seeing the expression on your face

the said expression on your face is one of shock

sure, your dad is a CEO of a company but that doesn’t mean you are insanely rich and get to blow your money on whatever

your dad gave you money when you asked for it

which is close to never

as you both take your seats, your entire body is stiff

you felt like if you breathed too much, you’d knock the expensive vase full of flowers off the table somehow

Kyoya notices your tense state but doesn’t comment on it

when you’re brought your menus, you try to find the cheapest thing available, which is not cheap at all in your book

you didn’t even have an appetite anymore

finally, Kyoya can’t take it anymore

“Would you like to go somewhere else?” he offers

you let out a breath of relief, nodding your head with a small smile

“Yes, please,” you whisper

he offers a hand to assist you to stand up, you lightly taking it

once outside, he turns to face you

“Where would you like to go?”

you look around before spotting a McDonald’s, smiling as you point it out

“I want to go there,” you say with a bright smile

Kyoya internally groans at the sight of the greasy place, wondering why you’d want to go there out of all places

“Alright. Let’s go,” he says in an almost monotone voice

you happily lead the way, your stomach growling a bit

you didn’t really care for McDonald’s all that much but it reminds you of home

of America

you order for the both of you and pay before he can even blink

you lead him to a table once you get your food, giggling at his expression

“You don’t have to eat it if you don’t want to.”

he studies the food as you eat a fry, acting as if it’ll start moving

“It’s fine. Besides, you paid for it,” he says softly, picking up a fry and slowly eating it

he wouldn’t admit it out loud but it didn’t taste that bad

you both eat and, surprisingly, have a proper conversation

you seemed much more relaxed and happy as you ate the fatty food

Kyoya just didn’t understand you

after you both finished eating, he told you about the musical

you agreed to go to that since you changed the food plans

you go together and you both actually enjoyed it. It was entertaining in different ways

once he takes you home, you were kind of sad to leave

he and Tamaki are the only things you have close to friends

First Dance:

okay yeah, so, normally people don’t dance unless they go to a school dance or their significant other is just that romantic

but the Ootori’s are far from normal

they hold some sort of ball every year for some reason or another (you weren’t really listening)

your father made you dress up like a princess

makeup and all (you look kinda like a clown in your opinion. Your face feels ten times heavier)

after knowing Kyoya and Tamaki for a while now, you were all kind of friends now

if you can call it that

you and Tamaki are for sure

you hang out all the time

Kyoya though?

you weren’t sure if you could call him a friend

Tamaki told you that they associate with each other because of a club

Kyoya would have no interest in him if there wasn’t something for him to gain

it broke your heart to hear that

Tamaki is such a caring person who deserves the world, in your opinion

he’s been through so much, he deserves to have a best friend

I suppose he sees you as his best friend

anyway, you eventually reach the Ootori estate after a boring drive with your father (he kept telling you how to act, eat, walk, speak, blah blah blah)

you head up the steps as soon as the door is open for you, taking in the fresh air with a smile

as soon as you get inside, you feel suffocated again

you wanted to run to the garden, which is where you normally go when visiting the Ootori’s

your father is right behind you though, leading you to the long table piled with food

you realize it’s because that’s where Kyoya is

he ‘drops you off’ there before walking away to speak to important people

Kyoya gives you a nod in acknowledgment before taking a sip of whatever he’s drinking in that fancy glass of his

you face the table and can’t help but to feel your mouth water

you’re starving

your dad is forcing you on this stupid diet to have you be thinner

‘men like their women thin,’ he said

it made you want to puke

back in America, he was a pretty chill dad

ever since we got here though, it’s like there’s a devil on his shoulder whispering all this nonsense to him

maybe it’s that Mr. Ootori...

you didn’t even realize you’re stuffing your face, literally shoving as much as you can into it, before you feel a tap on your shoulder

you’re still chewing when you turn around, seeing a slightly older gentleman offering his hand to you

“May I have this dance, Miss L/n?”

you quickly gulp down the food and take his hand with a polite smile

dad says that you should always accept offers to dance

you didn’t want to dance with this guy though

he’s not that much older than you but he’s clearly not in high school anymore

he also has too much cologne on

and you just want to stuff your face with those delicious looking Mushi Pan

but alas, you're forced to dance

it seems that a slow song starts just as you step out onto the dance floor

you’re are about a minute into the song before someone taps on his shoulder, making him pause and turn around

“May I cut in?”

the guy huffs a bit but nods his head, bowing to you a bit before stalking off

you bite back a smile as Kyoya takes ahold of your hand and waist

“Didn’t take you as a dancer,” you tease, letting your hand fall onto his shoulder

he hums as he looks anywhere but you as he replies

“I’m talented in many subjects, including dancing.”

you roll your eyes at his bragging, sighing as you look away from him

“That man was a terrible dancer,” he continues when you don’t reply

you frown at his words, refusing to look at him

“Reminds me of you trying to cook pancakes,” he teases.

you gasp in mock offense, taking your hand off of his shoulder to hit his chest

“I am great at making pancakes!” you argue, trying not to smile

a small smile graces his face as he disagrees with you, playful banter being shot between you both

neither of you realized how long you’d been dancing until his father starts making a speech (apparently he does it every year towards the end of the ball)

Kyoya leads you off the dance floor and back to the food

“I heard your stomach grumble as soon as you saw the Mushi Pan,” he teases

it’s kinda weird to hear him be so playful

you lightly shove him before grabbing one of the spongey desserts, taking a bite of half of it and moaning

“These are literally so good,” you mumble around all the food in your mouth

you were too busy falling in love with the soft yumminess in your hand to realize that Kyoya was giving you the softest look

okay, maybe he did have a soft spot for you

First Time Giving a Compliment:

you both are at that phase where accidental touches aren’t so accidental anymore and you’re a lot shyer around him now

he seems just as confident in himself as always

so, when he walks up to you while you’re talking to Haruhi and asks you to go to the mall with him

you’re shocked

you, of course, agree, trying not to blush

you both head to the mall after the club is done for the day

you both walk around, going into a few stores

neither of you really buy anything

eventually, Kyoya’s need to shower you in gifts kicks in

he leads you into a store that he thinks you like and asks what size stuff you wear

you’re embarrassed to tell him things like your pants’ size

what if he thinks you’re fat?

he doesn’t react in any sort of way really when you tell him

he then starts walking around the store, picking out things that catch his eye and things he thinks you’ll like

he then comes back to where you’re standing, admiring a necklace

he hands you a bunch of clothes and tells you to go try it on

you walk into the dressing room, trying on a pair of jeans and a shirt he picked out

he’s sitting on a plush chair and looking around when you come back out

his eyes instantly snap to yours before roaming your body

he smirks and gives a nod

“You look good.”

a blush instantly slaps onto your face, biting your lip to hide your smile

“Thank you,” you whisper

you then scurry back into the dressing room, staring at your reflection

did that just happen?

did Kyoya Ootori really just give you a compliment?

you silently squeal and jump around happily

Kyoya watches in amusement as your feet go up to hide behind the door before coming back down to meet the floor

he can clearly see you fangirling but doesn’t call you out on it

after trying on everything and picking out what you like, you both make your way to the register

as soon as the cash register says the price, Kyoya is handing over his card before you can even reach for your wallet

you gape at his card before gaping up at him

“Why would you do th—”

“Oh, I want to purchase that necklace too,” Kyoya says cooly as he points out the necklace you were eyeing earlier

“No! We don’t need anything more. Thank you,” you say before the cashier can move

they look between the two of you, trying to decide who to listen to

“Don’t waste more of your money on me, Kyoya,” you plead, already feeling bad

he sighs before waving his hand at the cashier, nodding his head

“Alright, that’ll be all.”

you relax at his words, picking up your bag once the cashier hands back your receipt and his card

you then quickly head for the exit

Kyoya whispers something to cashier before following after you

you then quickly lead the way out of the mall, feeling embarrassed and guilty for having him pay for you

Kyoya didn’t mind one bit though

he’d buy you the world if he could

First Time Giving You a Gift:

you guessed it

he went back for the necklace

and gave it to you for your birthday

your heart didn’t know what to do with itself

you ended up throwing your arms around him for a hug

he kissed your forehead and held onto you tightly

this was your first hug

and man, neither of you wanted to let go

but alas

you can’t stay in each other’s arms forever

you tried for a while though before the gang started gagging at the two of you

you pull away and smile bashfully up at him as you thank him again

he then asks if he can put it on you

you hand it over to him and turn around, pulling your hair up

he slips it between your arms and then pins it behind your neck, his hands coming to rest on your shoulders afterward

you then turn back around with one of the brightest smiles he’s ever seen

“It looks good on you,” he whispers

he gets like this now

all sweet and mushy, even in public

he liked to keep it as private as possible though, hence the whispering

you try to contain your blush, but it’s impossible at this point

“Thank you,” you say again

First Kiss:

okay so

I’m sure you guessed this as well

he initiated it

it kinda surprised and didn’t surprise you both at the same time

you both had your suspicions that you liked each other (it helped that literally everyone constantly told you both that you are head’s over heels for each other)

he took you on a date

and no, it wasn’t at some fancy schmancy place

it was at night when he texted you and asked to hangout

you had to sneak out of your house

and there was Kyoya waiting for you outside your house

you both were driven around for what felt like ever before finally reaching your destination

the middle of nowhere

you made a joke asking if he’s actually a serial killer and this is where he takes his victims to kill them

he, of course, joked back and said yes, but you are his favorite victim

you playfully gushed as he went to the trunk (you made another joke saying he’s getting his ax)

he pulled out a picnic basket and a couple blankets

you raised a brow as you helped him hold some of the stuff, letting him lead the way

he led you into a field, the grass going up to your thighs

then, Kyoya steps into a clearing

you actually gushed this time when you noticed it’s in the shape of a heart

“How romantic,” you teased as you set the big blanket down

it’s getting dark outside but you swore you could see a blush dusted over his cheeks

you set everything up before getting comfortable

he then pulled all the food out of the basket, making your heart melt (and your stomach growl)

he made all of your favorites

no, not the chef

he did

you gave him a kiss on the cheek before starting to dig in

you both talked to each other quietly despite the fact that you two were the only ones out there

you both admired the sun as it sets

more so you since he was too busy looking at you

you both stayed out there for hours. Cuddling, holding hands, sharing secrets, all the goods

at one point, you both had stopped talking and were just staring up at the stars

you felt eyes on you, making you turn your head to find a pair of brown-grey eyes focused on you

you blushed as you studied his eyes

he’s the only one you know with eyes like that

you couldn’t see his eyes at one point cause he closed them and leaned in, connecting your lips

your heart lurched into your throat, deciding it belonged there instead of your chest

you both kissed for a moment before pulling away

you smiled bashfully at him, feeling a blush coming back to your face

“That was my first kiss,” you admitted softly

his eyes widened before he relaxed, smiling back at you

“Me too. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did,” he whispered

you giggled like a schoolgirl at his words, nodding your head

you then leaned back in and gave him another kiss

that happened throughout the night

after he had asked you to be his girlfriend

First Time Having Sex:

(you remember that episode where Kyoya tugs Haruhi onto the bed and like get on top of her?)

(YEAH BRO)

(that shii hit different)

there you two were

casually hanging out with everyone on your little vacation AFTER HIGH SCHOOL AS ADULTS

Tamaki absolutely refused to let you two share a room

he said you’d be safer staying in ‘daddy’s’ room

Kyoya straight up told him, “Over my dead body.”

the twins thought it was hilarious

you ended up getting rooms right across from each other

you and Haruhi were sharing a room cause “You two can bond!”

Tamaki and his ideas, you swear

you didn’t mind though

it was fun having girly time with Haruhi

but you wanted to see your boyfriend

so, once Haruhi fell asleep, you snuck across the hall to see Kyoya

and there he sat

looking tall, dark, and handsome

he had just got out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his torso

and shirtless

cleanup in the doorway cause there’s drool everywhere

it was then you realized you never really get to see him without his glasses

he stood up silently, walking over to you

you flashed him a smile, extending your arms a bit as you waited for a hug which is normally how you greet each other

that clearly wasn’t what he had in mind

your eyes widened as he tugged on your arm and forced you onto the bed

you’re pretty sure your heart flew out of your chest and is now somewhere on the floor

he quickly crawled onto the bed and hovered over you, staring down at you with clouded eyes

“Oya?” you whispered your nickname for him, your eyes wide as he just silently took you in

you hadn’t changed out of your swimsuit yet from being on the beach all day

you had one of his button-up t-shirts on though, which was enough to cover you up

he didn’t reply as he leaned down to connect your lips

normally, your kisses don’t last long and are super sweet

or are passionate and include some groping

this kiss though? It felt fiery and new and exciting

you instantly returned it, humming softly

his hands started to roam, starting at your thighs and ending up on your stomach

he then lifted his hands to start to undo the buttons of his shirt

once the buttons were all undone, his hands go back to wandering

he stopped below your chest and pulled back to look down at you, silently asking for permission

you let out a shaky sigh and nod of your head

after experimenting with your chest, he started to get serious

foreplay lasted for a good bit, seeing as how this is both of your first time doing it together

when it came time to do the actual deed, he pulled away to go to the table he was sitting at previously

you watched him with furrowed brows, your naked body going cold without his touch

he picked up his wallet and pulled out a condom, turning to you with a smirk

you snorted with a raise of your brow, leaning back on your elbows

“You brought a condom? Confident are we?” you teased

he smirked darkly as he walked back over to you, standing by the side of the bed as he slipped it on

“I didn’t bring just one,” he said in a deeper tone than normal

your face instantly got hot

he then took his time with you

letting you adjust and making love to you

he wanted it to be perfect for you

for the both of you

you felt like you were in heaven

though, god was probably frowning at you

you snorted in the middle of Kyoya pulling out to thrust back in

“Are you laughing at me?” he questioned with a brow going up to hide in his loose hair

he didn’t even bother giving you a chance to reply and explain

he just started going faster, making you forget anything you were going to say

once you both climaxed, he cleaned you both up before holding you in his arms

you didn’t mean to fall asleep in his arms

but you did

the next morning, Tamaki came to Kyoya’s room to wake him up, seeing as how everyone else was already at breakfast except for you and him

Haruhi said you weren’t in the room and she figured you went to the beach as soon as the sun started to rise since you talked about wanting to go shell hunting while enjoying the sunrise

he didn’t bother knocking and just walked in

he yelped in surprise and turned around, getting that famously dark blush of his

Kyoya had his famous murder gaze as you held him back

“I swear I didn’t see anything!” Tamaki yells as he takes off down the hallway

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swagless-talks-alot · 3 years

Text

Memories

Middle school.

Rusty benches, rotting lockers, and prepubescent children.

8th period is when I learned that he would be moving away. He would get to move out of this hell hole and move to a brand new country.

"Are you ever going to come back?" I had asked as I unpacked my History notebook from my bag. But before he could answer, his loud ass friends entered the room. Mark was the type of guy who wasn't immensely popular himself, but people knew him and he knew people. Most were either jealous of him, or loved him, no in between.

I would say I was more on the jealous side. Not only was he on the dance team, my friends wouldn't shut about how "nice he is" or "how adorable he is" or "how good he is at math".

"Have you read his poems? Apparently he has a poem book."

It's not just my friends either, it's my parents too. Unfortunately for me, Mark's parents and my parents are part of the same friend circle. Which means constant comparison. Ever since elementary school.

But it's not like they were wrong. And it didn't help that I liked him either. It may have been my 13 year old hormones, or the fact that his smile seemed to light up the world around him, but despite how sickly jealous I was, I was so entranced. I remember crying after hearing a rumour that he liked someone one day. A weird occurrence as I never cried over anything. The rumour turned out to be false because I asked him about it the next day and he said "No, who is that?".

We were what I would call acquaintances. One of my friends dated one of his friends in 6th grade for a week before breaking up in the most dramatic way possible.

"You know, I heard they kissed once," I remember telling Mark.

He replied with a grimace and said, "Eww that's gross, why would you kiss someone?"

I remember laughing and telling him that it wasn't a big deal.

After that, we talked once in a while. If we were in the same class, we would ask each other about homework or make basic small talk if none of his friends were around.

And so, as History class ended, the 13-year-old boy came up to me. "Sorry for ignoring your question earlier, uhh I don't know if I'm coming back or not actually. I think I'm going to be living in Korea for a while," he smiled. "Don't tell anyone about it okay?" He said playfully. "Shhh".

He giggled, put on his backpack, and ran up to catch up with his friends.

And that was the last time I ever saw him.

Honestly, I was glad. I thought that the source of my insecurities was gone and that my crush on him would disappear. I was a progressive child, so I got over him quickly, but unfortunately I still had my insecurities. I thought I would never cross paths with him again and as bittersweet as it sounds, I preferred it over the constant conflict in my heart whenever I saw him. I got over my insecurities slowly, throughout high school. My life without Mark Lee, was great, wonderful even. So then why, at the thought of seeing him again, run at the chance to intern at his company? My desperate ass didn't even search him up on google because I didn't want to know what he looked like now. My view of him is still of a 5'4 teenager boy, with a high pitched voice and braces. So when I was met with a guy who looked too handsome to be real, you could expect that I was taken aback.

Mark, who I wasn't sure was Mark, was wearing a plain black shirt and some khakis. He also had light blue hair that looked really soft but also looked slightly fried, perhaps from the dye.

"This is Mark Lee right, I heard you were the one who was supposed to show me to the intern manager or something."

"Uhh yeah! I'm Mark, nice to meet you. What's your name?" He said enthusiastically.

He didn't remember me. Or he just wasn't sure. I didn't want to seem insane by saying I went to his old school so I kept quiet.

"I'm Hannah Wang, I'm from Vancouver", I shifted my weight onto my other leg nervously.

"Wait, Hannah Wang? Did you ever go to Westwood Middle?" Mark asked, his eyes lighting up.

He remembered. Holy shit, Mark Lee remembered me. "Yeah, I was waiting for you to say something." I said as we walked into the recording room. "You uh, glew up a lot, I could barely recognize you."

"Ah really? You glew up a lot too- not that you weren't pretty back then- I mean not like that-" Mark panicked.

"So you didn't think I was pretty?" I chuckled.

We began walking inside the building, and the recording rooms became visible.

"No I mean you were, and still are- ahh" Mark's face was now 3x redder than it was before.

“You’re bold, calling me pretty and all” I laughed as I scanned the posters on the wall. “Who are they?” I pointed to a poster of 10 men who looked around my age. I noticed that Mark was on it. He was wearing a race car? jacket and had black hair with blonde highlights.

Mark, who was noticeably all flustered, took a moment to respond. “Ahh that’s the group I’m in… one of them at least.”

I looked at him. “You’re in another group?”

He nervously laughed, “Yeah it’s no big deal. I’m in this one, NCT 127, SuperM and NCT Dream.”

“Well wow…” After all of these years, he was still out here doing the most. “I expected nothing less haha” I joked. “It must be hard.”

“Yeah.. well I like being busy so it’s honestly very fun.” He said with a smile. “Wait, you’re interning at SM but you don’t know the groups?”

“Dude, I’ve been so busy I haven’t kept up with anything. My friend told me to apply for an internship here and I accepted it as a joke because I didn’t think I’d get in. I didn’t know you became a k-pop idol until like a month ago.”

“Oooh” Mark nodded understandingly. He started walking to some of the other rooms. “Uhh I think I’m supposed to show you to Mr. Kim? He told me to tell you that he was sorry he couldn’t meet with you in person. There’s a slight chance he might be infected..” Mark frowned. “I’ll escort you to a room where you can meet with him. You came kind of early so I need to get the other two interns as well.” He turned to look at me. “Does that sound good?”

I honestly didn’t hear half of what he said because I was staring at his face. “Yeah yeah sounds good!” I centered myself again.

We went to an auditorium which was quite huge but empty. I assumed press conferences were held here. There was also a huge projector screen at the front of it which had Zoom open.

“You can just sit at any of the tables,” Mark said. “Oh yeah Mr.Kim asked me if you were vaccinated yet?”

I nodded. “Yep all good and immune to the virus.” I smiled.

And then he left and I was all alone in an empty black room. I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until I exhaled. (Yes and the floor is made up of floor.) I also didn’t realize how fast my heart was beating. Honestly, he hadn’t changed at all. Looking at him unlocked so much nostalgia of my younger days and I blushed to myself at the thought of the journal entries I wrote about him as a child. I wanted to talk to him about so much and I wondered why I didn’t reach out to him sooner. It had been an insanely long time since I last thought about my old “rival”, and I only started pondering it when I realized I would be interning at his company. Him becoming an idol wasn’t actually too surprising, my journal entries told me that he was into dancing a lot and I do recall him performing a Shinee song at one of our “family meetups”. I don’t have a lot of memories from middle school but that’s one that I can recall pretty vividly. He was doing it with 2 of his other friends and the performance was really funny because one of the kids fell and hit his nose on the edge of the sofa. I wonder if he remembered all of this.

I was taken out of my thoughts when two other people, accompanied by Mark, walked into the room. They were a guy and a girl who both looked a little older than me and they didn’t look like they knew each other. They both took seats at separate tables. Mark on the other hand walked up to me.

“I think the meeting will start in a bit.” He smiled. “I have to go but good luck with everything! It’s insane how we met again after like… 7 years? Dude, I miss Vancouver so much I really hope we can talk later and catch up on everything y'know?”

I laughed a little, glad that he felt the same way as me. “Yeah definitely! So many things changed after you left, I swear to god it’s like a completely different place.”

“Yeah I visited once on tour-” his phone started ringing. “Shoot, they’re gonna kill me. I have to go, Hannah. Uhhh I’ll see you around?”

I smiled. “Yeah I’ll see you around.”

#marklee #mark lee #mark #nct #mark x reader #mark fanfic #mark oneshot #fluff #nct 127 #nct dream #nct u #super m #oneshot #lee minhyung #leeminhyung #lee mark #mark x y/n #mark lee x y/n

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