#and that’s why this is so difficult of a realisation

[seonghwaddict]

super duper pretty — kim hongjoong

in which you haven’t heard from him in years but a single drunk phone call ends up with you tangled up in your bed.

musician!kim hongjoong x fem!reader. genre. angst, suggestive, friends to lovers. warnings. drinking, tension, kissing, suggestive content. wc. 4k. rating. pg-13.

lilo’s notes. AGHDHSJDJJAJDJSJDHSJS GRRRR WOOF WOOF AWOOOO GR AHHHDHDHDHHDS

listening to. right here, chase atlantic.

masterlist.

you weren’t someone hongjoong could bring himself to think about much these days. despite having known each other since childhood and been best friends, he hadn’t spoken to you in three years, too caught up in his thriving music career.

album, tours, interviews, collaborations. it all kept him busy and away from you. his chase for stardom had him isolating and distancing himself from friends and family. and, sure, it was shitty, but he didn’t have time to dwell on the people he was told would hold him back. he didn’t have time to regret it. regretting leads to stagnating and stagnating would lead to the end of his career.

that’s not to say he didn’t miss you. of course, he did. but on the last day he spoke to you, it ended in an argument he didn’t have the energy to resolve. so, he left. he left you.

him not having time to regret it was more an ideal rather than a truth.

in reality, he regretted leaving you more than anything else.

but three years later he still hadn’t talked to you, afraid it would ruin his pride if he came running back to you. yet he couldn’t deny how he felt like he was on top of the world, the best producer and rapper in the scene. his career was thriving and his newest album topped charts across alll platforms. when all the interviews and promotions were finally over, he decided to treat himself ot a little celebration, renting a club in town and inviting every major celebrity he had connections too.

the night was spent dancing and throwing back shot after shot until he could barely stand. he enjoyed it at first, but slowly the effects of the colourful drinks made him feel much too hot and cramped in the sea of dancing bodies. making sure no one noticed, he escaped through a back door into the cold, fresh air. he felt the sudden urge to leave, but in his drunken state it would be difficult to navigate his way home.

without thinking, he slumped against the red brick wall and pulled out his phone, dialing a number he’s always know by heart. it rang three times before the person picked up.

“hello?”

hongjoong didn’t realise how much he missed your voice until you uttered that word so softly. he could picture you somewhere in your appartment, maybe in the kitchen to get a snack, tilting your head in confusion at the unfamiliar number.

“hey,” he really didn’t know what else to say, staring intently at a leaf on the ground.

you went completely silent on the other end and for a moment he thought you’d hung up. but, eventually, you spoke again, only this time a certain firmness to your voice.

“what do you want?”

“come pick me up,” his words slurred and molded together and you had a hard time unnderstanding him, sat stifly on your couch, “please, i need you to pick me up. just… just this once?”

you didn’t know what to say. you wanted to scream and yell at him and demand a proper explanation as to why he just walked out of your life like it was nothing, but at the same time, you wanted to sob and confess how much you missed him.

still, you couldn’t help but ask, “what the hell happened, hongjoong?”

"i- i'm drunk," he slurred, sounding even worse than before as he shuffles his feet on the floor pebbled floor. "like, really, really drunk," he insisted with a quiet groan, but you already came to that conclusion. "come pick me up… please?"

you stood up from your couch, pacing around you living room as you listened to him speak before stopping by your window and looking out into the night sky. he was the last person you thought would call you at this house, not having heard from him in three years. but here he was, drunk and begging you to pick him up from god knows where.

“fine.” you said simply, swallowing down the lump in your throat as you grabbed your coat from the entrance of your apartment and slipped on some shoes, not bothering to change out of your nightwear. “where are you?”

“um,” he looked around. the back door led into an alley, but if he walked off to the right he’d be right by the entrance. with his free hand supporting him on the wall, he did his best to get there. “outside the, uh, club,” he explained, though it was really helpful, “by the-” he cut himself off with a sigh, resting his forehead against the wall and squeezing his eyes shut in frustation of his lack of clarity, “the red one.”

your eyebrows furrowed at his vague description as you got to your car, getting into the drivers seat and just sitting there until he could give you a proper answer. “the… red… one?”

“it’s got, um,” he looked around the surrounding area, spotting a familiar place just across the street, “in front of that café we used to go to?”

“oh.” you recognised that, hesitating for a moment before starting the car, unwanted memories of the countless hours you spent with him there clouding your thoughts. all the talking and studying and laughing. “find somewhere to sit.”

“okay,” he nodded to himself, taking some steps to a wooden bench and pointing at it as if you could see, “i’m gonna sit on this thingy.” his drunken stupor had him laughing at himself as he takes the final steps to sit down. he swayed a little but not enough to make him lose balance and fall. once sat, he nodded and grinned at nothing in particular, just proud he was able to manage the simple task you gave him. “i’m sitting.”

“good, great,” you hummed approvingly, holding back a smile at his antics, “now… just hang tight, i’ll be right there, okay?”

“okay.”

it felt good to sit here, he realised with a sigh as he leaned back and tipped his head to look up at the stars. the gentle caress of the night air and the dimmed sounds of the city around him a soothing backdrop to the chaos in his head.

a silence followed his words, tense but not uncomfortable. the red exterior of the cheap club came into view soon enough and you slowed to a stop to park in a free space. you got out of the car and looked around until you found a familiar figure sitting on a bench tucked below a little tree. you hesitated again for a moment before walking to him as slowly as possible, your heart pounding in your chest. he hadn’t noticed you yet, having shut his eyes at some point.

it took you some long moments but you finally pulled yourself together and cleared your throat, making him startle as you muttered a tentative, “hey.”

he glanced toward the sound of your voice, blinking away the drunken haze as he attempted to focus on the world around him. his vision unclear and unfocused as looked up at you, struggling to recognise you for a moment. the bright streetlights made his head ache a little; the world a blur and all he could do was struggle to focus until he could see you properly, the familiar feature snapping him back to reality.

you shifted back and forth on your heels awkwardly, waiting for him to say something as he just stared at you, face flushed and intoxicated. your hair was messy and you wore shorts and a loose light grey sweater. you wondered if he even recognised you, or were you just a stranger to him?

“you came,” he breathed after a while, eyes taking in every detail on you. he focused on you; the way the moonlight caught on your skin, the soft furrow of your brows and subtle downturn of your lips. your eyes, his favourite eyes in the world, looking back at him. “you actually came.”

“you called,” you answered, almost breathless as you also took him in. his style looked a little edgier than when you’d last seen him, though still as chic as ever. short bleached hair, the corners of his sharp eyes smoked out.

“i did,” he nodded, attempting to stand up before slumping back again, “but you actually came.” the alcohol made his words feel heavy, pushing them out in soft sighs as his eyes locked with yours again. he grinned stupidly, “you’re like, pretty.”

you almost laughed at his words, shaking your head lightly, “and you’re like, drunk,” you scoffed jokingly, “come on, it’s late, let me get you home.”

“no, i mean,” he whined, pouting dramatically and now you weren’t sure if the pink tint of his face was from the alcohol or something else, “you’re like super duper pretty.”

unsure of how to respond to his compliment, you only chuckled nervously and offered him a hand to help him get up. “come on.”

he stared at your hand for a few long moments before grasping it and standing up with your assistance. he stumbled a little but caught himself as you led him to the car. your nudged him to get into the passenger seat as you walked around to get into the driver’s.

it was dark in your car, your face dimly illuminated by the screen that displayed a map of the area. you look even prettier in this light, he thought, the sharp shadows making your features stand out that much more. your cheeks soft and round and your eyes sparkling with reflections in a way that made his wander all over you.

neither of you said anything for a while as you sat there. seemingly lost in his drunken daze, he realised how familiar this felt, being there with you, just you and him. everything felt right. he let out a soft hum before leaning back, tilting his head back against the seat and closing his eyes.

“my place is closer than yours,” now that he wasn’t looking at you, you felt comfortable enough to break the silence. finally buckling your seatbelt, you tried to ignore the way butterflies swarmed in your stomach at the thought of his eyes on your body, “you can stay for the night, if you want.”

“do i get the couch?” he turned his head to peer over at you as you start the car, “or…” he giggled, “or… we can share the bed.”

you raised an eyebrow at him, surprised at how flirtatious he was being. “we’ve shared before so, i guess… if the bed is more comfortable for your then i’m fine with sharing it.”

memories of your late night excursions with him rushed back to you and you briefly wondered if he would touch you the same as you laid together. would the feeling of his hand in yours bring you the same comfort? or the protective grip on your back or thigh? you don’t mention any of it.

“let’s just share,” he whispered back. he sounded tired, though if asked he could probably go on a ten page rant of how much he missed being close to you.

he, too, thought of all the night you spent together. the laughs and the touches that felt so real. he remembered how comfortably you would fit in the same bed, laying side-by-side and watching random movies until dawn broke. how easily you’d fall asleep as you shared blankets, face mere inches away from each other but never quite touching.

he wondered if it was possible to relive those times, gazing over at you for a moment before shaking his head and look out the window. those were nothing but drunk fantasies.

“okay,” you whispered back, trying not to look at him, trying not to shiver at the softness of his voice. a little slurred, but still soft.

he was always like that with you. soft.

people would mistake the two of you for lovers more often than not when they first met you, but it was always denied with flushed cheeks and awkward giggles. and it was true. no matter what was said or done, you always remained just that. best friends. it was for the better, made things much less complicated. especially when he took off and you never saw him again.

at least, until now.

the silence in the car was palpable, broken only by quiet breaths and the low hum of the car. it was a calm silence, mildly comfortable despite how heavy it felt, weighted down by all the things unsaid.

eventually, you slowed to a stop and pulled into your parking space in front of the apartment building you lived in. turning off the car, you got out and beelined for the entrance. he knew where to go anyway, not looking back at him as you led the way to your apartment.

the door opened to your living room and kitchen area, just a little messy since you weren’t expecting anyone to come over anytime soon. you made quick work of shucking off your jacket and placing your shoes aside, telling him to wait for a moment before you disappeared through a hallway he knew led to your bedroom.

you returned quickly, a pile of folded clothes in your arms that you held out to him, explaining he had left them a while ago. his body itself didn’t change much, so you figured they should still fit. you didn’t want his sweaty dishevelled suit on your bedsheets.

as he changed, you paced back and forth in your bedroom nervously, thinking about all the possible things that could happen. but you stopped quickly when you heard the bathroom door unlock, practically jumping to lay in bed. you tucked yourself into one side of the large bed, covers pulled up to your chin as you face away from him.

you heard him pause for a moment before you felt the bed dipping behind you and the covers shifting as he blanketed himself too. despite there being a considerable amount of space between you, you still felt him body heat brushing against yours in the thick silence. even though you can’t see him, you knew for a fact he’s probably laying on his back to look at the little glow-in-the-dark stars you stuck to my ceiling years ago and never took down.

you sighed and whispered, “hongjoong?”

“uh-huh?” he hummed, eyes closed for a moment before he turning his head to glance at your back.

you squeezed your eyes shut, taking a deep breath before finally asked the thing you’d been dying to know. “did you ever miss me?”

“more than anything,” he breathed and you felt him shift to lay on his side, facing you. he wanted nothing more than to reach out and hold you like he used to. his voice held a hint of melancholy but he didn’t elaborate more.

you turned too after a moment, not taking a second to notice just how close he was, the thick white covers shifting slightly from the movement. your voice quivered slightly as you spoke, eyes stinging with welling tears. “i missed you too, you know… i missed you every day since you left and every day i hoped you’d come back. but you never did.”

his heart clenched at you admission, the voice he loved so much threatening to turn into sobs. the truth was, he wanted to, countless nights sat alone, wishing he turned back to knock on your door.

“i-i wanted to,” he stammered, whispering ashamedly.

“it’s fine, i got over it,” you forced yourself to focus on the pillow under his head instead of his handsome face.

his brows furrowed as you averted your gaze, eyes following yours even if you refused to look at him. he knew you well enough to know when you lied. he knew you well enough to know you didn’t get over it. didn’t get over him. he mumbled, “did you really?”

your lip trembled at his question but you kept your gaze locked on the white fabric, pressing them together to get them to stop as a few tears spill over the corners of your eyes.

you shook your head, your little voice breaking with overwhelming emotions, “n-no, i didn’t.”

you shifted your look to his hesitantly, your skin tingling from his warmth. your eyelids fluttered as you tried to hold back the tears.

"don’t," he whispered, thumb slipping down to caress your jaw. his eyes searched yours, your eyes wide with sadness and something he couldn’t quite understand. "don’t hide it. you don’t always have to be so strong. not in front of me.”

those words snapped something in your mind, no longer able to swallow down the lump in your throat as you threw yourself into his inviting arms, yours wrapping around his neck as you sobbed into the slope of his shoulder.

“why- why did you leave, w-why didn’t you come back... p-please, i need to know.”

he didn’t expect the sudden break down, but still held you close. one hand at the back of your head, the other holding you by your waist, your bodies pressed against each other and he let his lips press against the top of your head, making you shiver.

he rubbed your back, letting your tears fall wherever they man, muttering reassurances iagainst your hair. his faint scent of whiskey and mint mingled with your vanilla shampoo, his eyes shutting at the oddly comforting mix of smells. you felt him press repeated kisses to your messed up hair.

sobs racked your body for a few more minutes before the tears stopped falling and your breaths evened. you nodded against him, pulling your head away from him to look up at his face, at his eyes. the hand at the back of your head slipped forward to cup your cheek again, brushing his finger along your skin. he traces your cheek bone and along your harline down to your jaw, his eyes shifting between yours in disbelief that his skin was on yours once again.

“i was afraid,” he admitted, barely a whisper, “i was afraid that if i came back, i’d fall for you more… and then i wouldn’t have been able to spend a day without you, wouldn’t be able to chase after my dream. but… at the time, i didn’t recognise you were part of it, you know, my dream.”

your breath hitched as the words registered, “you- what?”

you cut him off with something you'd been wanting to do for a while; you kissed him, hands holding either side of his face. his eyes are widened in surprise, though he didn’t hesitate to lean into the kiss, returning it as quickly as you did it. his hands tightened around you, pulling you as close as he could.

your lips fit against eachother so perfectly, like the lego sets you’d force him to build with you when you were younger, every curve and edge of your bodies slotting together naturally. he got lost in the sensation of finally getting what he dreamed of, a hand slipping below the hem of your shirt to hold onto your bare waist, just wanting to feel closer to you.

his mouth tasted of exactly what he smelled like, mint and traces of whiskey, whimpering against his lips as you welcomed the taste and the touch. your whimper unlocked something, the kiss growing more urgent, restlessly pushed against each other without air left between. you could barely breathe, but you didn’t care as long as his lips stayed locked on yours for as long as possible.

but eventually, he bit down on your bottom lip ever so slightly before pulling away, catching his breath as you caught yours. your chest heaving as you refilled your lungs with air, face flushed from the realisation of what you just did and from the thought of what else you might do.

he glanced down at your swelling parted lips, jimmy coated by your mixed saliva, his pupils blown wide with desire.

“i wanna…” he mumbled, breath unsteady, “i want to…”

he wasn’t sure what he was trying to say, at least not until he noticed the way you peered up at him expectantly with that curious gaze. “what is it, joong?”

that nickname. he hadn’t heard it in a while. three years, actually, because you were the only one that called him that. his eyes searched yours.

“i want to do that again,” he admitted, cheeks warming, “and again and again and again… and so much more than just that.”

your breath hitched, intestines tied into knots as you struggled to figure out what you should say. the truth was that you wanted that too, wanted to feel his lips and hands all over your body. but, as his breath fanned over your face and you caught the traces of alcohol folded into the smell of mint gum, you were reminded that there was a thin possibility he didn’t mean any of it.

“you’re drunk, joong… it’s better if we don’t.”

he frowned, his grip on you loosening. “but you want to, don’t you?” he countered, “you know you want this too, so why not?”

“i just-“ you paused to sigh, continuing with an even tone, “i just don’t want you to regret anything.”

“i meant every goddamn thing i said,” his brows furrowed for a moment and he squinted, trying to emphasise his point, “so, i can’t regret this. i can’t regret you.“

you bit your lip, thinking carefully before sighing, the tension leaving your body as you played with the string of his hoodie.

“how about this…” you suggested, speaking slowly, “if you can wake up and tell me you remembered all this, then we can see where this goes.”

“and if i don’t, you’ll never mention in again?”

you nodded, slightly anxious as you wait for him to agree. it didn’t take too long, seemingly an acceptable compromise for him as he nodded.

“okay,” he agreed, his hand on your waist beneath your shirt tightening once again, “let me just kiss you one more time though, i won’t be able to sleep if you don’t.”

you laughed at his silly excuse, forehead dropping against his shoulder for a moment before lifting to look at him again with a grin that made you feel so stupid and in love. “fine, just one more time.”

networks. @cromernet @wonderlandnet @cultofdionysusnet @pirateeznet @atzhouse

permanent taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl @likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo @yalyallic @yunhoswrldddd @coffee-addict-kitten @thunderous-wolf @chngbnwf

#cromernet #wonderlandnet #atzhouse #cultofdionysusnet #pirateeznet #ateez x reader #ateez #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong imagine #hongjoong imagines #hongjoong fluff #hongjoong angst #ateez angst #ateez fluff #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic #ateez smut

[disneyprincemuke]

sick little games * op81

neither you nor oscar can believe the predicament you’ve found yourselves in.

pairings: oscar piastri x female!reader

word count: 1.4k

(f1 masterlist) | (series masterlist)

(prev)

you’d left the restaurant immediately after the newscaster finished talking. you’d lost your appetite after finding out that the man you’d hit on was possibly a ghost. you simply ordered a sandwich to go — frankly because you’re honestly still quite hungry — paid and then left to head back to your apartment.

oscar trailed behind you all the way back, not another word uttered between you.

on your way back, it started to make sense for you. when you first bumped into him, the confused stares weren’t from you stopping in the middle of the crowd, but from the fact that you were talking to yourself. and even then, the waitress’s hostility and confusion should have been the nail in the coffin.

you hadn’t even questioned the way that she only brought you 1 glass of water instead of 2.

you open the door to your apartment and turn around after stepping in, oscar still standing in the hallway with his hands clasped in front of him. you raise your eyebrows. “what are you doing? come in.”

“really?” oscar asks in shock. “i mean, you don’t have to invite me inside… like, i’m a stranger.”

“what?” you scowl in disbelief. “you’re a literal ghost — what are you going to do, murder me?”

he blinks at you. “too soon.”

“just come in so nobody else thinks i’m going insane talking to myself,” you scoff, beckoning him inside. “stop the whining.”

you close the door when he steps into your apartment. you almost want to giggle at yourself for holding the door open for a ghost and waiting for him to walk in. but you swallow the giggle you feel bubbling because you can only imagine how difficult it is especially for oscar.

oscar lingers next to you as you take off your shoes, looking down at his feet. “do you think i can take my shoes off?”

“i don’t know,” you glance over your shoulder and watch him seriously ponder at the thought, “you’re the ghost — try it.”

he blinks, “you don’t think i’d dirty your apartment floor if i keep them on, right?”

you tilt your head and sigh. you stand up straighter and turn to face him. “but didn’t we bump into each other? means if i reach out right now,” you hold your arm out and hover it over oscar’s shoulder, “i would hit you.”

“i guess?” oscar scrunches his face and looks down at your hand. “hit me.”

you hesitate for a moment. can he even feel pain? so you reach forward with all intentions of hitting him and even wound your arm back slightly to do some damage.

a soft shriek emits from you when you stumble forward and your fingertips jab into the wall supposedly behind him. “what?” you squeak, quickly stabilising yourself in disbelief. “i swear i bumped into you when we met!”

“you did!” oscar says with a sigh, throwing his head back. “i don’t get it!” he darts his hand out to grab your wrist, eyes widening when his hand passes through you. he gasps, “why does it do that? i swear i bumped into you earlier!”

“i don’t know! you’re the ghost!” you shriek, now walking further into your apartment. “you’re asking me like i’ve got a degree in parapsychology!”

oscar tilts his head as follows you in. “para-what?”

“study of paranormal activity!” you sigh. “my sister used to be obsessed with this type of stuff before our parents got separated and moved to different ends of the country. she’s a very investigative person.”

“i’m sorry, i didn’t… i’m sorry about your parents,” oscar shrugs, frowning slightly. he watches you take a seat on your couch and throw your sandwich next to you. “and your sister. i’ve got 3 of my own back in australia and i grew up in the uk.”

you suck in a deep breath and sink into the couch. you realise you’re not entirely in the position to be freaking out as much as you are. you have to give it to oscar for staying calm in the past hour. you know that if you were in his position, you would not have taken it as well. in fact, you think you might even go crazy if you woke up one day with little to no recollection of events as a ghost.

and to find out from some random news clip to a restaurant with someone you've never met?

“i’m sorry. that must’ve been really hard on you,” you sigh, leaning forward to rest your elbows on your knees. “how do you feel? about everything?” you turn your head and realise that he is still standing and hovering by your couch. “why don’t you sit down?”

“it’s not my house — i don’t want to feel too at home as a guest,” oscar shrugs simply. he points at the empty spot next to you for permission. you nod and move the paper bag to the ground by your feet and he laughs as he takes a seat. “i doubt i’d deform your sandwich if i sat on it, by the way.”

“it’s on and off again. this sandwich is my overdue lunch and i’m not taking any chances,” you snort with a small grin. “this must be a little overwhelming for you.”

he shrugs and leans back. “it is. i don’t even remember waking up today, i’d just regained consciousness walking down the street before i bumped into you. it was like a video game — spawned out of nowhere.”

“this game is not going to be fun, by the looks of it,” you mutter, earning yourself a soft chuckle from oscar. “you can stay here until…”

“i’m not a ghost anymore?” he prompts.

“technically not a ghost 'cause you’re not…” you’re trying to choose your words carefully. you don’t want to trigger anything if you don’t know him that well just yet. “you know.”

“dead,” he points out firmly with a finger pointed at you. “let’s be realistic — i could be a ghost. i don’t even know how critical my condition is.”

you press your lips together and drop your gaze to the ground. you mirror his position on the couch and lean back with a sigh. “we should really stop talking about it, don’t you think?” you whisper hopefully.

he shakes his head. “i need to know what happened to me and who did this to me,” he sighs, shaking his head slightly. “maybe they got it wrong. maybe it was a driver error that caused my crash.”

“oscar…”

insistent, he continues to shake his head. “they wouldn’t do this to me,” he says softly with a frown, “i refuse to believe it. there’s no reason to!” oscar turns his head and meets your eyes. he sighs. “what do you think?”

you shrug. “i don’t know any of these people you’re talking about,” you say softly with a smile. “but i’ll help you, i promise.”

gen taglist: @33-81 @happy-nico @darleneslane @nikfigueiredo @localwhoore @namgification @c-losur3

taglist: @lipringlrh @mess-is-my-aesthetic @vicurious28 @imsiriuslyreal @fionaschicken @pastryboyyy @spookystitchery @topgunmav1df1 @nixisracing @honethatty12 @bloodyymaryyy

#oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfiction #f1 fanfic #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #disneyprincemuke 6futs

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

I broke my inner ankle six weeks ago (just had the cast off this week and am re-learning how to walk again) and had to have two pins popped in, so it's a bit of a relief to read that they shouldn't set the airport security alarms off! I'm not sure I want anything to make airports even more stressful than they already are XD

Yeah, no those scanners aren't strong enough for pins and plates, so GOOD NEWS!

Sympathies on the learning to walk again bit, mind. I found that difficult. One thing they sent me to was hydrotherapy, where the hospital had a (very warm) lil pool where you could do physio and practice walking without bodyweight or balance being as much of an issue. I liked that. I also LOVED the Zimmer frame. Those things are revolutionary when you're a forced hopper, or even just while you're limping and wobbly. They gave me crutches too, and I had my Nan's old wheelchair for longer outdoor excursions, but the Zimmer was the best. So stable! So safe! Loved it.

In the grand scheme of things, it's a surprisingly short recovery time, too. When the cast is freshly off, it feels like it's going to be a year or more before you can walk again, but it's just a couple of months.

OOH OOH although - when my cast first came off, what struck me most was:

1. Good lord I did not realise my legs could grow hair of that length (never that long before or since) and colour (why so dark???)

2. Why has the leg hair, for the first time ever (and never since, again), grown down over the top of my foot like a hobbit?

3. Why is my foot now tube-shaped

Don't know if you have also made such fascinating discoveries but that was an interesting moment

#asks #health care

[livelaughlaios]

As for Shuro/Toshiro... lemme see if I can put this coherently. The long and short of it is, this is Ryoko Kui doing the thing she does in which she uses the dungeon as a neutral background in which characters with different ideas can clash and come to terms with each other. We're not supposed to side with Toshiro, but we are not supposed to side with Laios, really, mostly because there is no "right" and "wrong" here.

A character who is heavily coded as autistic and comes from a northern europe coded culture (low-context - information is supposed to be conveyed in the most straightforward and clear way possible, even when said way is considered rude) meets another character who is extremely shy and comes from a japan coded culture (high context - info is supposed to be inferred by a mix of behaviour and conversational allusion, maintaining peaceful interpersonal relationships takes precedent over efficiency).

Neither of them are inherently wrong in the way they approach the other. Yes, Toshiro shouldve said something, but he doesn't know how. He was not taught how to handle someone like Laios. Conversely, Laios was not taught how to read between the lines and understand what a person is trying to convey if they are not speaking directly.

Since Laios is the main protagonist and we see most of the story from his POV, and also since most people on this website are American (low context culture), its easy for people to assume we are supposed to side with him. But I don't think that's the author's intention at all. Remember - Kui is Japanese writing for a primarily Japanese audience. From THEIR POV Toshiro's behaviour is perfectly understandable. It's also worth noting that there is a lot of extra material that gives further context to the Toshiro/Laios relationship.

One of the main points, for example, is how Laios gets Toshiro's name wrong. When they first met, Toshiro is immediately an object of curiosity to Laios BECAUSE he is a foreigner from a faraway land. Laios immediately invites himself to become his friend and starts asking question after question. When he finally remembers he's supposed to ask for Toshiro's name, he misunderstands it as Shuro, and Toshiro is too shy to correct him. "Renaming" the foreign side character for the benefit of the Western main character is an extremely loaded symbolic choice from Robinson Crusoe's Friday onward. I am not aware of the particular history of this trope in Japanese literature, but other elements of Toshiro's story suggest that renaming in his culture is something that is often done to slaves. Ryoko Kui is generally very deliberate about details like these. I highly doubt this is a random choice.

Of course Laios does not do it on purpose and Toshiro understands this and decides to let it slide, but its still something hurtful that Laios does to another person without even realising that hes doing it. This is a type of mistake he does often and he will do again across the story.

Again. Not saying Toshiro is perfectly right either, but there is a reason why they finish the meeting on relatively decent terms - because they BOTH recognise how they went wrong.

Toshiro realises that he needs to be more direct and determined about what he wants, but this is a reality check for Laios as well. He has been able to coast by so far in the dungeon without giving much thought to other people's wants and needs, thanks to the help of friends who care for him and are willing to follow him, but the story is changing pace and scale. Soon he might have to make some difficult decisions that involve the life and death of others. He needs to learn to listen.

This is why the Toshiro confrontation happens in the same span where we see Chimera!Falin going on a rampage, and Kabru trying to establish a friendship with Laios to assess what kind of person he is. Several narrative threads are coming to a head - the conflict with Toshiro is the tangible result of the tensions we saw around Laios' uncaring attitude from the beginning.

#shuro/toshiro #laios #meta #those are mostly confused notes sorry if they dont make much sense #meowing to myself

[lostbetweenvampiresandmusic]

Can you do a hc of the lost boys finding out that their mate is VERY rich?

Yes omg absolutely!!!

I am fully convinced that the boys just have no concept of the value of money whatsoever. They don't have an exact need for it, and the money they do have has been - let's sya its been locally sourced, right? So they don't earn money, they don't pay rent, and the only thing they ever really buy is things they want - not need per se.

Just to kind of establish what we're dealing with here

They do realise immediately that their mate is well off, you know, living in a big house and not ever having to worry about money

And they do notice that their mate has some designer brands that they've heard of

But it still doesn't quite click how rich their mate actually is until, one day, they get invited over to their place

It's bigger than the boys thought, and they are taken aback when they realise you have an actual butler? Like - that's something you never really mentioned to them.

It's only then that they really realise that their mate is not just well of, but that they're absolutely rich. Capital letters RICH.

The reason their mate invited them over was to show them what they were working on.

They lead the boys down into the basement, and there they find a large area, with sunproof rooms made especially for them if they ever need a place to stay that's not the cave.

They love it - but they're still not quite sure how to react to their mate being that rich

It does explain why their mate never wanted them to pay when out on a date.

Paul is the first to fully come around, jokingly calling their mate "majesty" and other fitting royal titles. He loves that their mate doesn't have to worry about any financial problems. Also, he might - not so subtly - hint towards several things he's been wanting. A new motorcycle, a new and improved soundsystem for the cave, you know - little things.😉

David's more curious about how they accumulated all that money. It's a lot, and to be that rich? So their mate tells him, showing him all the company's their family own or have shares in. His mate also shows him what they do with all the money - obviously, a lot is kept for the family themselves, but a lot goes towards climate causes or children's welfare. David still doesn't know what to think about it, but he appreciates being the one in the know.

Marko has an intense dislike for such elaborate riches, stating it's a waste of money and that if the money was shared with others, more would benefit from it. He's surprised when his mate agrees. It's a difficult conversation between the two of them, but they come to a compromise. Obviously, his mate can't just get rid of the money, still having a family to deal with that's in charge, but they can make suggestions to the family. So, they try to make sure that their family donates as much as they can because the amount of money they have is a tad bit ridiculous.

Their mate starts a fund in Marko's name, especially aimed at artistically gifted children from low income families, to give them a chance to thrive as artists.

Dwayne is the last to come around, not quite understanding why their mate wouldn't have mentioned their background before. He has to come around to the idea of his mate not only being rich, but being filthy rich. He doesn't mind that they are. He minds that they weren't upfront about it once they started dating. Once he does come around, he will ask his mate to help give Laddie what he needs and wants - which obviously isn't a big deal.

They don't mind that their mate is rich. They only ever see the benefit of it once they come around to the idea

And if their mate decides to turn, they probably take their riches along with them, which will once again only help their mate and them in the long run

So they don't mind, in the end, it will only make their undead live together easier.

#the lost boys #marko #david #paul #dwayne #the lost boys 1987 #tlb 1987 #tlb #star #the lost boys x reader

[clu-ven]

The Bad Batch discovering you stayed loyal to Empire HCs

2.7k words !

The jungle is coloured in hues of silver, the overhead canopy filtering in just enough moonlight to see. Despite hearing the Marauder flying above, he can’t see the ship yet and thus, the chase is still on.

Branches crack under his heavy boots. Vines sway as he sprints past them. He can feel his lungs burn but he ignores it, urging his body onwards. 

He knows you're closing in. Well, he doesn’t know you are… whenever he manages to glance behind as he runs, all the clone sees is the new assassin sent by the Empire gaining on him.

He follows the instructions that are hurriedly given through his comm. “Just another few metres and there’s a clearing, we’ll get you there!” his brother’s voice assures him. It doesn’t seem like a difficult task but as he stumbles out onto the clearing and realises it’s a cliff edge, things become interesting.

You know better than to run straight out after him and instead opt to stay close to the tree line. As the Marauder hovers closer to him, a sigh escapes your lips.

Maybe you won’t be able to capture him this time but as he looks back at you, you decide to take off your helmet and show him exactly who this new assassin is...

HUNTER

Hunter thought the Empire couldn’t hurt him anymore. But here you are. He presumed he lost you a long time ago but now you’re standing in front of him, a slight scowl darkening your face as you stand your ground.

For a moment, Hunter forgets that he’s just a few feet away from escaping this close encounter. All of his thoughts are consumed by you. How are you still alive? And why are you working for the Empire?! 

He says your name in a mere whisper, the engines of the ship behind him easily drowning out his words. But you don’t need to hear his words to know how Hunter feels. 

There is a look of misery and regret in Hunter’s eyes, a sad acceptance of things that could have gone a different way.

You know this is your chance. He’s completely vulnerable, shock distracting him from his hypervigilant senses. If you wanted to take the shot, this was your chance… but you don’t. Instead you simply stare, a feeling you thought you long buried rising within you.

If this happened when the Batch first strayed from the Empire, before they truly knew the cruel dictatorship they were up against, Hunter would have offered you his hand and tried his best to convince you to come with them. 

But now? This far into the tyranny of the Empire? It’s a painful realisation but Hunter knows you’ve already chosen a side. He’s already been through the turmoil of this with Crosshair, he can’t go through that again just for you to reject his help.

Hunter knows that leaving the Empire has to be a decision you make. Not him. 

And so Hunter makes his escape, grabbing onto the rope Wrecker has thrown down for him. He knows this won’t be the last time you two meet, and he knows you’re letting him go on purpose.

Hunter knows you too well and he knows that you could have fought harder if you wanted to.

Slowly watching as you turn back and retreat into the darkness of the jungle, Hunter sighs, hoping that maybe the you he knows and lov-… *ahem*, the you he knows is still in there somewhere, deep deep down.

WRECKER

Wrecker smiles when he spots you but that quickly turns to shock and sadness. Looking back at the others on the ship, Wrecker gives them a confused look that reads ‘are you seeing what I’m seeing?!’. Wrecker is every emotion.

After all this time apart, you’re right in front of him and yet you’re not. Wrecker’s smile slowly dims, his initial joy slowly fading as he comes to the realisation that it was you chasing him through the jungle so ferociously. 

Wrecker’s face grows sullen. How has it come to this? He doesn’t understand but he knows this isn’t you. It can’t be! You must’ve gone through the same treatment as Crosshair or maybe they have something they’re using against you.

He refuses to believe you’re doing this because you want to and so against his better judgement, Wrecker ignores the shouts of his brothers to retreat and heads straight for you.

With renewed determination, Wrecker manages to dodge a few of your attacks. He tries to disarm you without actually hurting you.

He can’t just leave you here, not when you’re like this and in the Empire’s grasp. Wrecker would never forgive himself if he leaves without you.

Despite having trained with you in the past, this is a completely different experience. This isn’t sparring. This is a fight. You slash your blade through the air each time he nears you, Wrecker moving as swiftly as he can. You’re like a wild animal being cornered, your eyes darting around as you try to maintain the upper hand.

The Marauder lowers to the ground as Hunter and Crosshair jump out, ready to help their brother (and to also make sure Wrecker doesn’t get himself killed). 

With their help, Wrecker manages to disarm you... and he may have accidentally knocked you unconscious too. He swears he didn’t mean to put you in a headlock that tight! But honestly, it’s probably a happy accident that’ll make this a lot easier.

Even though the others are dubious about having you on the ship, Wrecker is adamant that they have to help you and make you see what the Empire truly is. You would have done the same for any of them and so it’s only right that they help you now.

With AZI scanning you for any serious injuries (or microchips), Wrecker sits beside you and patiently waits for you to awake, his head hanging low as he tries to come to terms with this new revelation.

ECHO

Seeing you again is like defeating impossible odds and it makes Echo come to a sudden realisation. The moment is an unexpected one, yet somehow deeply familiar.

Echo wonders if this is how Rex felt when he realised Echo was still alive and on Skako Minor.

He wants to reach out to you, to offer you his hand... but he doesn’t. Instead, Echo hesitates. The powerful urge to act on his impulse lingers for a moment before rational thinking catches up to his heart and he stops himself.

He can’t help it as his concern grows for you. The unfortunate thing is, Echo knows that you might not even want his help. Maybe it’s too late and Echo wouldn’t be able to sway you from your stance in all of this. 

Echo is still plagued by how he was forced to help the Separatist forces during the war and so much of the concern he feels for you stems from his dreary past. 

Slowly taking a few steps in your direction, Echo approaches you with caution. He’s careful to maintain a constant vigilance over your hands and movements, being aware of how quickly this could go wrong. He tries to ask why you’re with the Empire, if you’re aware of what they’re doing to the clones. 

Echo knows that you care about the clones, or that at least you did at some point. Even if your beliefs have changed, he’s confident you would never stand for what the Empire is doing to his brothers. If he can just get you to hear him out, then he’s certain you can both get to some sort of an understanding. 

The last thing Echo wants to do is argue, especially with how high tensions are. Echo knows you. Of course he does. You two have been through so much. And so he knows that all he needs to do is fill you in on the mistreatment of the clones and you’ll turn your back on the Empire… right?

Despite the fact that you were just chasing him, Echo doesn't want this to be a “you vs him” sort of thing. If you listen to him and open your eyes to what the Empire truly is, then Echo can assure you that with some time, you can be brought into the fold of the rebellion. This isn’t the end and he assures you that any trust that may have faltered can be restored. 

Of course Echo wants you to join them immediately, hence why he initially went to offer you his hand. But for that to actually happen, he needs to see some sort of cooperation from you, whether that be a plea for help, you lowering your weapons to the ground or simply engaging in conversation when he informs you about the clones.

If you choose to go with them, Echo would call for some back up from the ship, reassuring you as Hunter and Wrecker join him. It’s only a precaution in case some kind of sleeper agent training activates. It’s going to take a while for them to trust you again so be prepared for a lot of “precautions”.

But if you choose to stay with the Empire? Well, at least Echo knows he tried.

TECH

Tech should have seen this coming. The Empire’s latest play of deploying assassins to hunt them down has resulted in an essential need for stealth.

Not only is that one of your strong suits but your great track record and prior relationship with the Batch makes you the perfect candidate to locate and eliminate them. In hindsight, Tech feels as though you were the obvious choice.

Tech contemplates holding his ground against you but with the Marauder so close, he realises that retreating is the most logical option. He is mindful of his movements, slowly taking steps backwards as to not startle you or trigger you into action. 

After hearing about how the Empire’s harsh ways of conditioning people, Tech is aware that whatever they may have subjected you to may have drastically changed you. The likelihood that you might not be the you Tech once knew is unfortunately high.

Tech's mindset is one of caution and pragmatism, balancing the risks and benefits of each option. So while he would ideally want you to lay down your weapons and come with them peacefully, he needs to think about his brother’s and Omega’s safety; something that could be jeopardised further if you joined them.

Not only would you joining them cause potential problems for them, but Tech is conscious of how that would endanger you too.

What if you’re chipped with a tracker? Would the Empire be able to track you down easily, and thus them too? He refuses to make such an impulsive decision and ask you to come with them.

In an ideal world, this would never happen. You would never be with the Empire. But here you are, and this is something Tech isn’t going to dismiss simply because he thought you were a close ally back in the day.

Once Tech is sure he’s close enough to the ship, he swiftly boards the platform. You watch the ship slowly rise higher and higher, the look on your face one that Tech is unable to read. 

Before he loses sight of you, Tech gives you a simple nod. It’s not a nod of respect - how can it be when you’re doing the Empire’s dirty work?! - but it is one of recognition. Recognition of what was once between you both as well as the familiarity of an old pawn of the Republic seeing a new pawn of the Empire. 

He needs to think, to analyse this new development. Tech remains calm as the Marauder soars away from you and through hyperspace. The others all speak over each other at this new development but Tech is quiet.

Right now, his main concern is to come up with potential ways of meeting you again in hopefully less hostile circumstances and to find out what exactly is going on. 

CROSSHAIR

Crosshair wishes this was a surprise to him. But honestly? You and him were always close, having a deeper understanding of each other than most. And so if the Empire was able to keep him for so long then he unfortunately sees how they’ve been able to keep their grasp on you too.

He takes a moment to analyse your stillness. You’re simply standing there, watching; as if you’re waiting for him to make the first move.

Despite the scowl on your face, Crosshair acknowledges that you haven’t moved for your blaster yet. Perhaps you’re conflicted? 

You took off your helmet for a reason. You wanted him to know that it’s you. For Crosshair, that’s enough to deduce that maybe you’re doubting the Empire and the mission they’ve given you.

If there’s anyone who can sympathise with your predicament, it’s Crosshair. And while he doesn’t know all the facts or why you’re here, he knows first hand how the Empire has basically drilled it into people’s heads that they’re the good guys and so he can’t blame you for carrying those beliefs. 

Crosshair has heard this plea before. He’s heard it countless times but that was when his brothers were the ones trying to convince him to abandon the Empire. But now he’s on the opposite side and trying to persuade you to leave the Empire.

He opens his hands, almost as if surrendering but in reality he just wants to show you he’s not reaching for a weapon either. All he wants to do is talk and to make sure you’re aware that just because you’re on opposite sides doesn’t mean you’re necessarily enemies.

Unfortunately this is the part that Crosshair is bad at. Talking. Reasoning. Not being sarcastic or saying a snide comment. He isn’t as compassionate as Hunter, nor can he find the right words like Echo usually can in situations like this. 

“I thought you were too smart to fall for the Empire’s lies,” Crosshair can practically hear Omega sigh in the Marauder at his choice of words but it’s how he’s always talked to you. Neither of you have ever minced your words before. Clearing his throat, he tries again, keeping his words genuine and making sure you know he wants to help.

Even if you’re receptive to his truce, Crosshair is hesitant to bring you with them. Not because you may be conditioned to bend to the Empire’s every whim but because he fears what they may do to you if they realise you've went AWOL. Crosshair knows exactly what it’s like to get on the bad side of the Empire and it’s something he would never wish on you.

Whatever your decision is, Crosshair respects it. He won’t pester you to change your mind.

Crosshair still believes in you and whatever it is you decide to do, he’ll trust. Whether you’re on opposite sides of the galaxy, a war, or a game of Dejarik, Crosshair will always have trust in you.

#the bad batch #tbb #the bad batch x reader #the bad batch x you #bad batch x reader #bad batch x you #the bad batch echo #echo the bad batch #echo x reader #the bad batch hunter x you #the bad batch hunter #sergeant hunter #sergeant hunter x reader #the bad batch tech #tech x reader #tech x you #tech the bad batch #the bad batch fanfiction #the bad batch headcanons #the bad batch wrecker #wrecker x reader #wrecker the bad batch #crosshair x reader #the bad batch crosshair #tbb crosshair #tbb fanfiction #tbb x reader #tbb reader insert #hunter tbb

[bipunkharrington]

There's something that infuriates me so much about people mocking characters that fall into the "not like other girls" trap, because the reasons girls take on that stance is because they exist in a society that tries to put womanhood and femininity in a restrictive box that tells them who and how they should be.

They're generally mocked and derided for not wishing to conform to stereotypical femininity, but when they lash out in entirely predictable but ultimately unhelpful ways (by being dismissive and rude about other women and femininity in general) instead of understanding that it's a product of growing up in a society that's restricting them and punishing them for not conforming (either by choice or inability) so many people who claim to be feminists choose to mock them or make them out to be the cause of the problem rather than a symptom. Whether its being mocked in real life, or watching people deride the fictional characters they relate to, this behaviour just alienates those girls even further into thinking that the issue is other women, and confirms their belief that women who are typically feminine will only ever be derisive toward them and that they're somehow fundamentally different from other women.

If you know someone who thinks along those "I'm not like other girls" lines instead of mocking them try directing them towards resources that can help them understand where that harmful rhetoric comes from, and when you're critiquing characters that fit that mold try to consider why they behave that way, and what girls who see themselves in those characters take from your commentary.

#idk this became a word salad #something something consider how many not like other girls girls are queer and/or neurodivergent #im not telling people to not be critical of that outlook but also helping people understand why its wrong is so much more powerful #than just mocking girls that are responding with (most often) age-appropriate immaturity to a society that's telling them they dont fit #eloise bridgerton #arya stark #there's so many other characters but my mind is just gripping onto these two #btw this ramble comes from a trans neurodivergent person who is a former “im not like other girls” non-girl #i came to the realisation that that outlook came from a misogynistic place in my own time #but watching any female character i related to growing up getting mocked for the same reasons i was bullied #read: not being feminine enough and/or not being neurotypical enough #slowed that process down a lot #it was difficult to understand that society was the issue and not other women #when so many women were mocking me

[s0fter-sin]

sometimes i think about how much of a waste it was to just have cas ignoring sam’s prayers in s6 instead of him actually not being able to hear him bc he was soulless and his prayers didn’t work

#there should have been more side effects of literally not having a soul other than sam just being a sociopath #the whole point of the season was how souls themselves are power right #so its not a leap to asume any supernatural anything a human is able to do or conjure would be powered by the soul #so why not make it that the soul is what powers prayers #or powers exorcisms and summonings and rites #imagine if sam couldnt make holy water anymore #or exorcise demons which he doesnt care about bc hed just use the knife anyway #but it would make things difficult for him #just this added hassle of having to buy holy water and needing the cambels to do rites for him that he just cant #i know cas ignores him for guilt reasons but imagine if that first prayer from dean is how he realises he brought sam back soulless #maybe he just thought sam was ignoring him and had gone on to live the normal life he always wanted #then that guilt of thinking he saved him just to realise how badly he fucked up along with the guilt of working with crowley?? #huge missed opportunity #coming out of my cage and ive been doing just fine.txt #carry on my wayward son #sam winchester #castiel #dean winchester #destiel #supernatural #spn

[green-mug-tomato-juice]

odo's whole "i don't choose sides, i'm the outsider, i'm not a collaborator - i investigate crimes objectively, only if someone is guilty i turn them over to cardassian authorities" is so weird to me. because by letting cardassians decide the fate of bajoran criminals, he acknowledges them as having authority on bajor. which they should not, because bajor doesn't belong to them - their claim to power over bajor is inherently violent and is by far the biggest injustice in this whole situation. and since odo defines his whole being by his own sense of justice, you would think he would see that.

#ds9 #every time i rewatch i like odo less and less :( #not in a 'odo is a shit character' way #it's more like... personal disappointment #odo is the archetype of a stern guy with a very soft and empathic and loving core #but the more plainly i look at all the mistakes he makes the more difficult i find it to look past them #because the thing is he's NOT a bad person. he made those mistakes out of pure ignorance and lack of self reflection #and that is almost more inexcusable than being knowingly evil. because you just think HOW could you not have realised #and he doesn't really realise later either. he just goes about he keeps being ignorant in his own way #and sure he has learned things and sure he knows things that will help his people become better #but at his core he is still ignorant about some important things that could very well be the cause of him becoming a collaborator #in another massive injustice #(that's why i'm not sure about the ds9 ending. i'm not sure the founders will really change. not sure odo alone is capable of that) #so you see odo you make me very sad #thats GREAT character writing everybody

[tiny-cloud-of-flowers]

suddenly remembered that xeno femslash February is a thing (that might not be the exact name)

I was only able to make one thing for ship week last year - that being the writing where Citri meets Vanea after waking up as Face Nemesis’ pilot - but if I can find the prompt list then I would definitely like to try and make at least something

#it feels like it’s been too long since i actually created anything (in general - let alone that’s a selfship thing) #I do have a couple of ideas for things but I just. haven’t ended up making a start on any of them #or any*thing* lately really. but that miiight be connected to the whole “being off of medication’’ thing #which I also realise I never properly shared here so‚ ah.. if I’ve seemed different or not like myself recently then. that might be why! #heart of the void #I keep struggling with the constant feeling that I don’t need to be saying whatever I say or post #which is a slightly new version of the previous feeling unable to post #but is no less limiting #so I’m trying to post more things even if they feel unnecessary #but because everything feels unnecessary it’s more difficult for me to figure out what *actually* is or not #(case in point: all this rambling)

[kkoct-ik]

how are you supposed to react to the realisation that your parent is like actually abusive

#kostik speaks #this is not the first time. or the second. or the. i just keep realising this and then forgetting to protect myself #abuse #domestic abuse #for cw #im processing today that its not normal for your parent to not care about your feelings or pain at all #like them hurting you for hours because theyre angry and not caring because the only thing that matters is that theyre mad at you #im realising that might not be normal #my household is shit in a lot of other ways but my mum situation is really difficult for me to process #at least with house being bad its kinda nebulous and a feeling #processing that my mum mistreats me and all her kids is kind of realer and uh. therefore harder #i dont get it #why cant she be normal #why cant she be nice?? i dunno. i genuinely cannot fathom a mum being nice or fair or even #its just relentless rage or offense the moment you make a mistake or make her look bad #as long as youre helpful and make her look good shes fine #but god forbid youre a child and make a mistake because youre a child. god forbid you be autistic and struggle #i dont understand its so inconsistent. sometimes she sounds like she cares. she advocates for all sorts of stuff #but if shes mad at you youre not a person anymore. you dont deserve rights or dignity or sympathy. i dont get it #and christ it doesnt take much for her to be mad at you. she never lets go grudges anyway so you never know when itll come #sorry for abuse posting i recently came back from home and had therapy about it and then a chat with my flatmate about abusive parenting #my brain is working

[starlystudios]

“Well,” the hero sighed. “Evil never sleeps I guess.”

Based off the DTIYS from @turquoisemagpie before it… spiralled out of control. But hey, here’s Jackie! This really kicked me back into a JSE and art mood so it was fun :D

(And yes, the sign says “JACKSEPTICEYE”, why do you ask?)

The unfancy version (where it looks like a DTIYS)

#my art #art #fanart #septicart #septic egos #jackieboy man #do you know how long it took me to get the words on the shit right? #do you? #i have art o-level GCE and it had been ingrained in me by my teacher to do fucking ‘interesting perspective’ #thanks ‘cher really made things difficult for me #it’s stuff like this that reminds me why I like art so much so thanks Soph #as I was posting I realised I made some oopsies because I’m an anxious perfectionist #but I’m also aware you’re not supposed to advertise your mistakes #so if it managed to pass my first inspection it’s good enough for me #this isn’t being professionally critiqued anyways so #also the way I hung Jackie’s mask is actually how I hang my mask when I eat #and I don’t have a convenient tissue or plastic or carabiner

[mobiused]

I'm so scared that bbc is just going to disband all of the girls it would probably be good for them but i can't imagine them apart :(

Wouldn't disbandment be a better fate tbh?

#besides if any company had a brain theyd realise inheriting a group with one of the most diehard fandoms in the industry would be like #a golden egg. so rehoming hypothetically shouldn't be that difficult worst comes to worst #every company in kpop worth their salt is jealous of loonas fandom thats why theyre the loonaprint for so many 4th gens

[hersweetrevenge]

i love the way corey talks and idc i'm making a whole ass post about it. disclaimer: i am in no way a language expert, so i can't say anything super poignant, but that's not going to stop me. all thoughts discussed to death with @slutforstabbings, who also coined the term "coreyism" which i now use with reckless abandon lol

corey has a pretty distinct speech pattern (which i am fighting for my life at all times to replicate while writing) and unusual ways of wording things.

corey's most frequent coreyism (in both movie and novel canon) is his really consistent habit of either repeating what he's saying multiple times, or repeating what other people say to him.

repeating himself

when he repeats himself, it kind of feels like he's trying to fill dead air (which makes sense because when he does this it's usually in a situation where he's nervous). he asks allyson about the halloween party like three times in one breath, "how many people you think will be there? think there will be many people there or not that many people there?"

but there are times when it almost feels like he's workshopping as he talks, trying different phrases until he settles on "the right one". when joan asks about his hand, corey says "He said it's gonna be fine, Momma. He said that you don't need to worry, and he said it would be terrific is what he said." corey basically expresses the same sentiment three times but worded different, until he settles on the best, most affirmative version -- "it would be terrific". he also adds the phrase "he said", or a variation of it, four different times. this feeds into his tendency to quote others too, it's like a reassurance to not only joan but to himself that those aren't his words (even though i have a strong feeling he is partly making it up in this instance, just to placate joan's questioning).

repeating others

now we come to his other habit of repeating things from other people. he either quotes verbatim or parrots phrases he's heard recently. in pretty much all of these examples, it mostly just seems like he has good recall and conversational memory, so "pre-made" phrases are easier to use to make his point than trying to word it himself.

in the novel, laurie tells him to "watch out for assholes... they're contagious", then he repeats the that sentiment twice later on -- once to allyson about dr. mathis (in the novel), and once to terry (both in the novel and the movie, even though the movie misses the setup line), "you just act like an asshole 'cause your father treats you like one, it's contagious, right?" it sounds more like a direct quote when he says it to allyson, and laurie had more recently said it to him, but with terry i doubt corey considers it a true quote, more that he's sort of adopted it as a convenient phrase for his lexicon.

at the allen house, he argues with laurie, "And he said to me, 'I hope you find love'. And I found it... you're the one to blame. 'Cause you go, 'you wanna do it, or you want me to?'" he repeats ronald and laurie here, recalling past conversations (verbatim) to make his point for him. i see him as someone who will remember conversations he had months ago and can bring it up easily when he either needs to remind someone of something or when he needs to "prove" something. [he does this in chapter eleven of @/slutforstabbings' fic, clean again, where he recalls a pretty specific conversation from weeks prior.]

#corey cunningham #halloween ends #i love him. y'all *know* i love him. but god it's so difficult to write his dialogue in fics 😭😂 #and you have to find the right balance of repetition. because he's so specific with it. it's not cut and paste it's well thought out #baby why do you talk like that ?? i want to study you in a petri dish 💗 #not included are times when he stutters or he's muttering something. it's not the same as his very purposeful speech patterns #and all the instances where he repeats something in a direct response to something -- #-- e.g. allyson: you're stressing . corey: i'm not stressing. #hmm i feel like this isn't a totally cmprehensive list. but it is his greatest hits #like i said i'm no language expert so y'all can come to your own conclusions. i'm just providing the cold hard facts. #not me realising how often *I* repeat sentiments and phrasings in this post talking about how corey repeats sentiments and phrases lol