#i just want him to feel bad for a microsecond

[boozye]

Hush.

#i just want him to feel bad for a microsecond #i dont care #obey me shitpost #obey me diavolo #obey me mc #boozye did #shitpostery

[kyber-crystal]

learning to warm cold hands || ethan hunt

summary: after a particular mission, sunshine isn’t sunshine anymore, and it worries him. (aka a cliche angst to fluff fic with the following tropes: slightly sunshine and super sunshine, who did this to you, etc)

words: ~1.4k

warnings: angst, brief descriptions of violence, ethan being overly concerned for reader, but not much else asides from that 

a/n: first ethan fic (requested by a lovely anon, thank you!!) and second mission impossible fic! btw, this fic is kind of an AU? i don't have a specific timeline for when it happens, so you can squeeze it in wherever :)

“Y/N, status update?”

“Northwest exit, 430 meters. I have one on my tail. But you know I’m Usain Bolt 2.0! I can definitely outrun this doofus, I mean, I bet my mile time is way better than his. I could've gone to the Olympics, for God’s sake. The Olympics! Where are you?”

“Stay there, I’ll come find you.”

“Ethan, wait, you can't just tell me to—“ You don’t even get to finish before a an explosive sound echoes across the narrow alleyway. You make a sharp left turn but find that you’d just hit a dead end. The door was locked. Shit. You only had one bullet left and there was a guy who was definitely at least twice your weight—and over a foot taller, too—coming after you. You wouldn't even have enough time to reload.

“Y/N. Y/N—“

You don’t get to hear the rest of what he’s saying before the static fizzes out and you lose connection.

“Hey there!” You give the beefy man who’s now mere meters away from you a cheerful smile. “Lovely weather today, don’t you think? Too bad it’s going to rain tomorrow. I love the rain but I hate lightning, because I almost got struck a year ago.”

He doesn't look too happy at this, whipping his gun out without a moment’s hesitation. You squeeze your eyes shut and pray as you slide the bullet in and he pins you against the wall by your neck. 

He brings the gun to your head, and your weapon clatters to the ground. You curse under your breath. You can feel your airways constricting and there's a searing pain working its way through you. 

“You're not going anywhere, princess.”

There's a split-second; a microsecond in which he pauses. Very briefly. You don't think, just do—you knee him in the groin, hard, and quickly grab the knife that's sheathed in your boot. 

Saying one last prayer, you plunge the blade in, not even looking to see if you'd aimed right. He falls to the floor, stumbling, and you then lunge forward to disarm him. 

Another deafening gunshot rings out just as Ethan rounds the corner and finds you there, standing over the man’s dead body like the angel of death. A pool of blood surrounds your feet, and he doesn't think he wants to know if that's yours or his. 

“You made it out alive. Good job out there.”

Glancing over at him, you nod, but don't say anything. You toss him the data files without another word, and board the plane. 

“I'm proud of you.”

More strained silence. Huh, weird… he thinks. 

“Y/N, are you alright?”

No response. Ethan repeats himself again, “Are you alright? Did something happen?”

You strap yourself into your seat and tilt your head back, digging your nails into your wrist. Anything was better than being awake right now…

“Well, someone's uncharacteristically quiet.”

Still no response. Not even a snarky quip like you'd typically reply with. No nicknames, no bickering, no random fun fact you googled on the way over here. “Did you know that a pig can digest an entire human body, bones and all? That makes me think a little extra every time we pass through the European countryside and see one of them.” 

All he gets is silence from your end, and it starts to worry him. 

That’s when he follows your gaze downwards. You're clutching the left side of your abdomen, trying your best not to make a sound. 

His blood runs cold and his eyes darken. You can feel the pure rage radiating off him. 

“Did he hurt you?”

“No…shit…Sherlock…” you croak out. 

“You're hurt.”

No response again. 

“Y/N, what the hell happened out there and who did this to you?”

More silence. 

“Y/N, what did he do to you? How did he hurt you?”

After several more questions and several more failed replies, he forcefully moves your hand aside. Your shirt is stained a deep red and there's a gaping hole much bigger than Ethan wanted to see. 

“You got shot.” He sighs. “Luther, how much longer?”

“Hour and five, but we can get there in 38.”

“Hurry.”

“On it.”

Ilsa brings him a thick roll of bandages. He tries to be as careful as possible as he disinfects and wraps up your torso, but every so often, you wince in pain. 

“I'm sorry, sweetheart, just a few more minutes,” Ethan hurriedly apologizes. “Hang in there for me, okay?”

Once he's done, he sits down next to you and laces your fingers together, giving your hand a squeeze. You let out a shuddering sigh and slumped against him. 

He pretends not to notice your watering eyes, or the crescent-shaped marks in your wrist. Or the way your left foot nervously taps out the rhythm to yours and his favorite song. Or the way your tears leave faint red tracks behind as they slip down your cheeks. 

“I'm so sorry,” he repeats over and over again, “I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry.”

You don't sleep a wink that night. On any other day in Paris, you'd walk down to the farmer’s market below. You’d pick out Ethan’s favorite fruit and a new beret to have him wear jokingly, and maybe grab a croissant or two. Then you’d drag him along to the Louvre and point out each painting one by one and explain in great detail why you loved them so much. And he’d listen, because he could live purely off the sound of your voice for the rest of his life. He was never one for museums, but you loved them, and because he loved you, he started to love them, too.

But it's dark out, and after what had just happened the other day, you don't feel safe enough to leave the apartment. You tossed and turned for over half an hour before falling asleep, but jolted awake just a few minutes later, shivering violently. There was no way you were going to try and go to sleep again.  

Ethan stirs awake, rubbing his eyes to see a dark figure slipping out the door. 

He's quick to follow you up the staircase and to the rooftop. You're standing there in just a T-shirt (was that his?) and shorts, and it's freezing cold out, but you're sweating and fanning yourself. 

“Y/N?”

You turn around at the sound of his voice. “Ethan…”

“What are you doing up here? I was worried about you.” He makes his way over to you and puts a hand on your shoulder, obvious concern on his face. 

You bit your lip and started digging your nails into your wrist again. 

“Talk to me, Y/N,” he pleaded. “Tell me what's wrong.” 

You shook your head, feeling the skin of your wrist beginning to sting. 

“Y/N, please. I want to help you. But I can’t do that when you won't talk to me, so please…tell me what’s going on.” 

“I’m so tired, Ethan,” you finally spoke after a long pause, voice hoarse. “I should’ve—I shouldn’t be here right now, I should be dead because I panicked and I…I almost died. The man, he put the gun to my head and I saw my entire life flash before my eyes. I could’ve sworn to God that the whole ‘thing’ about you seeing your life flash by like a film reel was just a myth but it wasn’t. It scared the shit out of me because I kept seeing the same thing over and over. I thought…”

“What did you see?” he asked, voice gentle. 

“I kept seeing your face. All I saw was your face.” You looked away, suddenly unable to make eye contact with him. Heat spreads across your cheeks. “I know I care about the whole damn team, but you—you’re my future, Ethan.”

He doesn’t say anything in response and instead, leans down to kiss you.

The sudden rush of warmth from his lips being pressed against yours makes you want to forget everything in the world and completely drown in him. This was home, you realized, and this is where I’m supposed to be.

And as the sun rises and spreads a brilliant pale glow over the horizon, Ethan can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this was also exactly where he was meant to be. Not fighting bad guys, but rather, standing on the rooftop of a tiny building in the 4th arrondissement with you in his arms and your head against his heart. He thinks he could have a lifetime of this.

“You’re my future, too.”

tags (including those who may be interested! add yourself via this form, if you’d like): @mitchellpete @voguesir @fl0ating @lady-elena-adeline @the-multiverse-of-fandoms @ilsastrenchcoat @joyfullyswimmingface​ 

#mission impossible #mission impossible fic #ethan hunt #tom cruise #ethan hunt x reader #ethan hunt x you #ethan hunt fic #ethan hunt imagine #mission impossible fanfic #mission impossible: rogue nation #mission impossible: fallout #mission impossible: dead reckoning #dead reckoning part one

[fun-n-fashion]

ok but like what if someone points out to Dream that even if he is now open to calling Hob his friend without having to yeet himself out of the window out of sheer embarrassment that he still has a massive imbalance of knowing basically everything about Hob while Hob basically knows nothing about him and in trying to rectify this Dream nearly inflicts eldritch madness on Hob because instead of using his damn words he instead tries to make it all up in one go by being like “ingest this grain of sand and it will give you deep insight into me as a person” 

and Hob, being Hob, is like “are you sure it’s safe?” and Dream is like “yeah, obviously” and is maybe a little shirty ‘cause Hob doesn’t trust him maybe???? 

So Hob just shrugs and eats the sand and nearly has his mind shredded because Dream forgot that human minds do have actual limitations and that they don’t have even close to the same sensory organs and that despite sharing less than a microsecond of his own experience it is quite literally more than Hob can reasonably be expected to bear 

and Delirium shows up and is the closest thing to sane she has been in a long time and is all “what the fuck, i thought you liked this one????”

and Dream has to scramble to neutralize his sand before Hob gets too damaged. 

and then Hob is in a coma for like a week while his brain sorts out the experience and decides what absolutely has to go for the sake of his sanity and when he wakes up he has only the vaguest recollection of what he saw and a headache that would put a hangover to shame.

and Dream is brooding in his castle ‘cause he fucked up and maybe broke his favorite human and what if Hob decided he didn’t want to be friends after all???

and then he feels Hob wake up and he goes to see him all cautious and sorry and such

and the first thing Hob says to him is something like “no wonder you’re such a sulky git if that’s what you’re dealing with all the time”, obviously teasing even though he’s still got a hand over his eyes and flinches at the sound of his own breathing because the headache is just that bad 

and Dream knows he’s forgiven. 

He still tries to make it up to Hob though because Hob had an unexpected absence and no one at the university could get a hold of him for a week and this is A Problem in professional circles but he manages to get back in everyone’s good graces by telling them more or less the truth (that he had gotten a head injury and been laid up in a coma) and by seeming very fragile for the first few days back (which is not entirely an act as there are ... echoes of a sort that hit him at odd times) . 

he gets better and for all that he now insists on Dream using his words, or at least showing him things in dreams constructed for the minds of humans thank you very much, he does have a much better understanding of the man than he did before.

Perhaps this leads somewhere...

#dream of the endless #hob gadling #dreamling #The Sandman #netflix the sandman

[paperjunk]

Life or Death - Chapter 01

Summary: Anger issues and memories of a horrific past biting at her heels, Kenzie Ames is pulled back into active service. Sent to Top Gun to help train a handful of Navy Pilots on how to survive their next mission, Ames’ resentment and anger may hurt her and those around her more than she knows if she can’t get it under control. Secrets weighing her down, Ames soon finds a Lieutenant’s persistent desire to know her maybe more than she can handle as the clock ticks away the time she has to make sure that not only do they come home, but the part of herself she left back in the cold, barren, tundra does too.

Author Notes: I feel slightly out of practice as I haven’t written a fanfiction in a long time so bare with me please?! XD This is an OC x Bradly Bradshaw or Reader x Bradly Bradshaw. All 3rd person pov.

Table of Contents: (Will be updated as we go)

Chapter 01 | Chapter 02 | Chapter 03 | Chapter 04 | Chapter 05 | Chapter 06 | Chapter 07 | Chapter 08 | Chapter 09 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 |

She was out. 

Honorable discharge...but there she was. Ass in a seat in the middle of the rows of chairs and desks. She wanted to blame the asshole but suspected this was above his paygrade.

'Why am I the first one there? Is everyone lazy in the Navy?' The thoughts skittered across her brain unhindered. 'Did zero five hundred hours mean something different to these people?' 

Or was it because she hadn't slept the night before and had decided she might as well roll out of bed rather than stay in it staring into the infinite void of the water stain above her head? Kenzie didn't want to answer the questions on her mind's back burners. She could smell them smoking and knew there'd be a fire sooner rather than later. 

Too bad she didn't really care.

Ten minutes past five, finally, the Admirals walked in, pursued by the one man she really, really didn't want to see. Pete "Maverick" Mitchell. 

'Don't get up. Don't get up. Don't even look at him,' she told herself. 'Deep breath Ames, deep breath.'

"You're here early, Ames," Admiral Simpson said, lips drawn into a thin line as if he had just sucked on a rather sour lemon.

"And you're late," she responded flatly, body motionless in the hard wooden seat. She should have gotten up. She should have saluted, but her anger that had been seething under the surface for the last week and a half was barely contained as it was.

Admiral Bates looked down to his watch and then back up to the clock on the rear wall. "Seems we are. Apologies," he replied before Simpson could respond.

"Ames, you know..." Simpson had started, but his words quickly morphed into an angry rebuke as several bodies flooded into the room. "You are late, Lieutenants!"

Ames closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to ignore the unstable, agitated feeling deep in her chest as the chairs around her filled. Abruptly she felt the presence of a man; if his cologne was anything to go by, take a seat beside her. She had to stop herself from asking him to sit somewhere else as one of her headaches had come on, and his cologne wasn't helping the fact. Arms still crossed, her whole body curled in on itself and to her left, out of the reach of his cologne, as casually as possible.

"There will be no cut to make," Maverick declared unexpectedly, stepping forward. So who you see here is it. This—is the cut."

Lieutenant Jake "Hangman" Seresin turned in his seat up at the front to take in the rest of the pilots. His eyes stopped on Ames, taking her in, in a matter of microseconds before he asked what she suspected he would; all smiles.

"Who's the civilian? I know nearly all of the best pilots the Navy has to offer...," eyes full of mischief like his smile as he trailed off. Ames could hear the accusation hanging in the air like a thick fog.

"Hangman, why don't you just keep your mouth shut," Natasha "Phoenix" Trace retorted, shifting back in her seat as several pairs of eyes turned on Ames, including the man next to her.

A sharp laugh escaped her as a sharper smile played across her lips. 

"Oooh, an asshole," she said into a wolfish grin, her whole body tilting forward.

Like a pin being slowly drawn from a grenade in a room devoid of sound, metal on metal, setting Maverick's nerves on edge, he felt Ames might explode if the wrong thing was said, even in passing, to her.

"Ames..." Maverick warned.

"Was that supposed to hurt me?" Ames asked instead, ignoring him. 

Green eyes bore down on Seresin's own, letting a heavy silence fill the room before she spoke again. "Maaann," she drew out, clicking her tongue against her teeth, "am I going to have fun with you." she continued, leaning forward, arms resting on the desk before her. "You know...just for shits and giggles."

Ames licked her bottom lip before tucking it under her teeth and chuckling.

"Better turn around, Lieutenant—before you're knocked down a rank."

Seresin's eyes shifted away from her gradually, eyebrows furrowing slightly as he twisted back around. Ames unexpectedly heard a faint snort to her right. She could practically hear the quickly stifled smile in it.

"Just for shits and giggles," a voice low in a conspiratorial whisper, closer to her than she expected, said, "if you ever want help messin' with him, let me know so I can get in on that."

Ames' mouth opened to respond when she heard her name, and everything that might have come out fell away into that unspoken dark place where a considerable amount of her words had fallen before to never be heard again. 

Admiral Bates' voice echoed off the barren walls of the small, empty hanger. Irritation had crept into his voice. "This is Major Kenzie “The King” Ames, and she'll be teaching you assholes how to survive." 

"Shit," muttered the man beside her. 

Muscles pulling under her cheeks and at the corners of her mouth, Kenzie Ames smiled for the first time in a very long time.

******************************************

A/N: Thanks for reading! Hopefully I’ll have more up tomorrow! XD

#OC #Jake “Hangman” Seresin #pete maverick mitchell #Natasha “Phoenix” Trace #bradley rooster bradshaw #OC x Bradley Rooster Bradshaw #OC x Bradley Bradshaw #Bradley Bradshaw #reader x bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x oc #oc x rooster #top gun #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw #rooster #mywriting

[flaticeball]

there’s nothing more exhausting as a leafs fan sometimes than other leafs fans.

like…. this series isn’t over but im keenly aware the writing is basically on the wall and this is a fight to die with dignity rather than advance and i get being upset, i get being sad and frustrated and even angry but what i don’t get is the reactionary doomerism about how obviously that means that nothing they’ve done or built or ARE means anything. it’s all meaningless if they don’t win the cup. blow it up, fire one of the best gm’s in the league that other teams would be lining up to hire the microsecond we let him go, The Only Thing That Matters Is The Cup.

maybe it’s that ive only been a hockey fan for about a decade. maybe it’s that im more in it for the story, the experience than the destination. idk. but whatever it is, i cannot and will never understand the fan approach that says the only thing that really truly matters is winning the stanley cup. not mitch’s historic season. not the fairy tale that is luke schenn coming home. not matthew knies’s excellent breakout series before his injury, not sammy’s unbeatable attitude, not jt’s overtime winner, not breaking the round 1 curse, not coming back from a 4-1 game and winning it. no, we’re gonna lose in round 2 so none of that happened. wipe the slate clean. blow it up. etc.

i keep thinking about all the people i saw saying they could finally actually enjoy hockey after the round 1 win and then saying that lasted only until they started losing the first game of round 2 and that’s probably a lot of joking hyperbole but also from the bottom of my heart if you feel that bad about it, maybe it’s time to step away and find a different hobby. different sport, different team, something else entirely. if all that matters at the end of the day is whether or not You Won The Most or whether other fans will stop making fun of your team or whatever, that’s just…. not a mindset i get at all and that difference seems to allow me to enjoy this a lot more than a lot of dooming internet calvinists who seem to think this core is like, cosmically ordained to be Losers Forever (see this great thread).

fans of this sport who look at it and can only see what's reflected in the cup are like........ i'll never understand that. and that’s fine. you don’t have to be a sports fan the way im a sports fan and again, im upset too. im frustrated too, im sad too. but that doesn’t mean none of it mattered. doesn’t mean i want to see the core marooned on an island in the atlantic and dubas thrown in the thousand years dungeon and replaced by….. Someone Who’s Apparently Gonna Snap Their Fingers And Fix… Something. and one of us is having a better time than the other right now so idk. do the math for yourself i guess and ask yourself ‘is this how i want to experience the sport and team i theoretically love or is there a better way.’

#gav gab #and then watch the sbnation mariners doc on youtube #quickest cure for what ails ya #long post #this is a little preachy yeah but i don’t care #you may hate the team we both love stop trying to make me hate it too #and stop trying to disassemble it into something unrecognizable #hockey is a skill sport but it’s the most random of any pro sport you may fact check me on this #luck counts in hockey more than anywhere else #and when the officiating is that bad #and luck is gonna fall how it falls #and the core is as undeniably talented as they are #and idk a former vezina winner is on a heater #what do you propose we do instead. go on. im listening. #thanks for the inspo oli had to share my own two cents as well

[sashannarcy]

um ummm sasha and anne and marcy visiting each other at college [post The Breakup] and theyre like kinda awkward but trying to push through it while ALSO not wanting marcy to realize that they are awkward bc marcy was looking forward to them finally meeting up again soo much and hteyre just like. [accidentally brushes hands] [freeze] [blushes] [so many blushes] [awkward staring] [starts talking then trails off halfway through] [oh they probably think im being so weird] [im being so weird] [this is horrible] [oh god i still love [anne/sasha] dont i] [oh god]

wow that's so cool. watch this

"did I tell you guys I'm planning a webcomic?"

"what?" Anne gasps. "you're serious? isn't that a lot of work?"

"that's pretty cool, Mars," Sasha says, grinning and leaning back in his chair. "how far along are you with it?"

Marcy giggles. "sure is a lot of work! it's kinda killing me, actually," they admit, fiddling with the ends of their hair. "and I'm... probably about halfway through outlining it? maybe? the plot is dense."

Sasha hums and sips at his drink. "props to you, though. wanna tell us what it's about?"

instantly, Marcy's face lights up. "would I? oh my god, I don't even know where to start... okay, so it's like, a mix of the Creatures and Caverns campaign- which is going great, by the way, our next session is gonna be huge- and what happened to us in Amphibia, which I figured was too crazy not to write about..."

this is nice, Sasha thinks to themself as Marcy continues. the three of them are sitting at the Starbucks on Anne's college campus amidst the hustling of busy students. Anne had invited them both to catch up as soon as she'd learned Marcy would be in Los Angeles for the week. finals season was soon, but it wasn't often that Marcy managed to visit, so neither Anne nor Sasha minded taking the time out of their schedules.

Sasha had been more nervous about seeing Anne than any sort of final exam, anyway. they'd all graduated high school two years ago, but sophomore year felt like it had happened just yesterday. and with it...

"so, hold on," Anne interrupts. "you're having two of the main characters get together, just to break them up again? what's the point?"

Marcy's brows furrow together, and they lean forward over the table, tenting their hands. "it's about the angst, Anne. the devotion! they're gonna get back together later on- but not without years of pining. trust me, people eat this shit up. myself included."

Sasha's throat bobs. Anne squints. "alright," she concedes. "I mean- well, never mind."

Marcy tilts their head. "what is it? bad trope?"

Anne shakes her head, smiling. "no, not at all. um-"

Sasha doesn't realize his eyes are on Anne's face until it's too late. Anne's gaze flits over to him- they make eye contact for all of a microsecond. it feels more like a decade. warm brown meets mismatched mahogany and cyan, and everything buried beneath days and weeks and months and lifetimes of misunderstandings and rushed emotions surfaces in a heartbeat. he's sixteen all over again; he's hoping all over again, because he’ll never be able to let Anne go, not fully. Sasha's insides are molten- what's a glance like this supposed to mean while their friend is talking about true love and yearning?

externally, the situation is a little more embarrassing: her cheeks flush a faint pink, and a squeak escapes her that's thankfully muffled by the sounds of the people around them. and then Anne looks back at Marcy, making Sasha's chest feel like it's been suddenly decompressed.

"well, how are you gonna fit years of time into it?" Anne saves herself. she reaches a hand up to scratch the back of her neck. nervous tell, Sasha's mind provides. looks like you're not so sly after all. "won't it be really long?"

Marcy blinks. "no, I'll just do a time-skip. with scattered in flashbacks, of course."

"right. okay, carry on," Anne replies, waving a hand.

Sasha exhales slowly. it'd been awkward between her and Anne all day, full of fleeting glances and accidental brushing of hands in between their regular back-and-forth. they'd been trying to keep it together for Marcy's sake- luckily, Marcy seemed oblivious to the tension between them.

Marcy pauses. "I could carry on," they muse. "but- Anne, that's not what you were gonna say originally, was it?"

spoke too soon.

Anne's face pales minutely. "er- I dunno what you mean."

"hm. well, that's okay," Marcy says. there's a wicked glint in their eye. "by the way, you do know some parts of this are based off of true events? I did mention that, yeah?"

"yes, you did," Sasha finally chips in, voice all but strangled.

Marcy grins. "I just think it'd be funny- I mean, let me rephrase-"

"Marcy," Anne warns, and now her face is red.

"oh, come on, guys," Marcy protests, finally breaking. "don't act like I haven't noticed... whatever is going on between you two!" they sigh dramatically. "I mean, for the love of- are you guys seeing anyone? each other, maybe?"

Sasha chokes on his drink. Anne drops her head into her hands with an audible thud.

"no," Anne mumbles, muffled. Sasha is hacking up a lung; Anne removes one of her hands from her face to thump Sasha's back a few times.

"thanks," Sasha splutters. "wow. uh-" they cough again. "no, we're not- no."

Marcy rolls their eyes. "you should." they stand up abruptly, and Sasha's heart kicks into overtime. "alright, here, I'm going to the bathroom. figure it out before I'm back."

"wh- Marcy!"

"for the trope, you two!" they shout back at the table, already halfway across the room. "for the trope!"

"good lord," Sasha groans, sliding down in his chair.

"so much for a normal catching up," Anne grumbles.

"cheers." Sasha takes a long sip of her drink, staring hard at the table's surface.

Anne exhales. "no, I shouldn't say that. it's been fun. it's just- the-" Sasha looks up to see Anne gesturing between the two of them. "whatever."

"hey," Sasha quips in mock offense. "we can be normal."

Anne snorts. "yeah, sure."

there's silence for a few long moments.

"you think they're spying on us?" Sasha finally whispers.

"probably," Anne snickers. her voice is a little shaky, but it's bright; it's happy. she stirs her drink idly. "you know, we did promise them we'd listen to them more often."

"we did."

"...so."

Sasha meets Anne's gaze, gentle. "so."

"we should probably do that, right?" the question is shy.

Sasha huffs out a laugh under his breath. "depends." his hands are visibly trembling. "you have something you wanna get off your chest, Boonchuy?"

Anne smiles, eyes twinkling.

#blacked out sorry🥺 #GOD supernova be more careful about what you SAY to me next time look what you did #yeah I'll throw this in the tags why not #marcy wu #sasha waybright #anne boonchuy #sashanne #amphibia #raedas #ask #da mutuals

[nichtschaden]

Choke It Down, Spit It Out

@blusollyjd This would be easier with somebody he didn't really know. If the person knew who he was, it would be easier for them to get all judgemental. Maybe they wouldn't look at him the same way after. That would be worse than anything. Still, he had his reputation. Everyone knew who he was, for better or worse- he'd kicked down a door after all, he and Tavish. As ugly as the whole affair got for a while, you saw more people reaching across enemy lines now. Not afraid to make friends, or more, with people they liked. It'd made Jane famous. Or infamous, depending on who you asked. But fame was different than really knowing, right? And above all, he couldn't go to Abel with this. He gave his poor husband enough to worry about. Sometimes he felt like a burden and it made him want to drive his fist through the wall in frustration. But if not Abel, than who? People had come and gone. And he didn't want to go to some giggling maggot whose suggestion for helping with this would be to saw his skull open or some ridiculous crap like that. And then, Jane thought of the guy he'd briefly met on Halloween. The guy who'd given him coffee. BLU. Seemed to have his head on straight. Didn't seem like the kind of guy who would have an animate head in his refrigerator. So, fine then. That guy. Jane's eyes squinted under his helmet. 'Dr. F. Finitzer'. The nameplate said the same thing that it had the last ten times he read it, and standing here like a slack-jawed recruit wasn't going to do him any good. Man up, Soldier. Breathing in, Jane gave a few hard raps against the office door and immediately began pacing like a caged mountain lion, hands clutched behind his back, steps even and rigid in standard military marching cadence. He was wound like a spring. But even he knew he had to do something about this. The feeling he kept feeling since he got back... it was almost a liability today. He would not allow that of himself.

Whether Jane knew or not, the man he'd settled on had followed in his wake. Fritz had crossed company lines in more ways than one, and the consequence was encased in metal beneath his left boot. He was terrified the worst was yet to come, after an idle visit to Dr. Haswell in the RED medbay had ended in his tampering with their respawn machine to resurrect a Scout it had failed to bring back. A senseless death if there ever was one, he hadn't cared what color the kid wore.

But it made him uneasy. It was a far graver transgression than the one that resulted in his brace. So when there was a knock against the door of his glorified closet of an office, Fritz's head snapped up in half a heartbeat. For a moment, he froze, a porcelain statue, listening. Waiting. The heavy footfalls pacing outside caved his shoulders a fraction, and the hand against the hidden revolver dropped. It wasn't the administrator spy, the bastard would never be so loud. Though it did make him wonder, who would knock on his door when the nicest man alive set up office two doors down. Or why this person wouldn't go to the medbay -- there was nothing in Fritz's office but a file cabinet, a tiny desk and two folding chairs.

He climbed to his feet with a grimace as weight was put on his bad leg, but it left his face quickly. He was used to it after so many years. "Jack, if that's you, you have your own damn coffee."

There was no hiding the mild shock behind aviator glasses when the opened door revealed Jane. His mind shifted quickly into the how and why Jane would knock on his door instead of Abel's, the man was not only his partner but a better doctor in spades, and the conclusion he landed on in that microsecond was the worst.

"What happened? Is it Abel?"

Then again, would the soldier have shown restraint if the veteran medic was in trouble? Fritz doubted he'd still have a door. He shook his head and quickly backtracked.

"Sorry, I just. Rough week, I assumed the worst. Come, ah. Come in. The coffee's fresh. You're not injured, are you, because this broom closet really isn't the place to handle that."

#blusollyjd #submitted files #ic #(how did your debts get paid?) | tf2 #we all about to find out how inadequate this 6'4 nerd really is

[sugarushsuga]

In Your Own Words - CH. 14

Genre/Au's: Rom-Com, fluff with bits of angst - Coworkers!AU; enemies to lovers; Journalist!AU

Paring: RM x Reader

Words count: 4.629

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Cursing; Mentions of a car accident.

Tigering: Mentions of blood; Mentions of surgery; Mentions of a bad fracture.

Synopsis: After graduating your dream was to become a journalist and work to one of the biggest magazines in the country. But that pretty dream does not translate perfectly to reality. The magazine is on verge of bankruptcy, great journalists are moving the rival magazines and not being replaced, your boss is a jerk who doesn't even know your name. Fate seems to be toying you around to its own pleasure, can you take control of your life and achieve your dreams, or you are going to be carried away by fate's plans?

Author note: This fanfic follows the world of the Brazilian production Procura-se um marido series. I do not own the series or original content.

←Previous | Masterlist | Next →

You stare at the crack in the wall behind Julia's desk while playing with a paperclip. Why are Fridays always endless? Looks like the closer the weekend gets, the less the clock works. And you can't wait to get rid of the claustrophobic feeling that dominates you. It is almost three in the afternoon, and you still haven't turned in the zodiac. Last night, you had barely managed to stop sobbing as you told the recent events between you and Namjoon to Sabrina, let alone make that hateful work.

You even thought that Namjoon would hang you as soon as he found out you still hadn't sent the zodiac yet, and there are only two hours left until the end of the expedient, but he doesn’t seem to have realized it. In the few times you worked up the courage to spy on him, he seemed distant and distracted.

And there you were, just as distracted as he, staring at nothing, a text file open and still blank. Ella left her desk and came to sit on the edge of yours. She starts questioning you about the day before.

"I wasn't feeling well," You explain weakly. "Namjoon accompanied me. We live close by."

"If you weren't well, why didn't he take you to a hospital?" She arches her delicate eyebrows.

“It was just a passing discomfort."

"Hm, I know."

"Ella, if you take a good look at the way Namjoon treats me, you'll realize that he hates me."

She laughs. "Oh, Y/n, you're so naive..."

You blushed, annoyed. You are tired of being treated like a child by everyone. But before you could take out your frustration on Ella, your phone rings.

"Y/n, hi. It's Jessy. How are you, honey?"

"Oh... H-hi." You look at Namjoon's office. He is engrossed in something in the wall. You cast a quick glance at Ella and mutter through your lips, covering the mouthpiece of the phone: "It's my grandmother."

She raises an eyebrow but leaves you alone and goes mind her own business.

"Can we have lunch on Tuesday?" Jessy asked.

Oh my God. You shouldn't be seen with Jessy, especially now that Hani had moved over to her side. Namjoon would know about your secret work in a microsecond. Although maybe that wouldn't be bad. You mean, maybe Jessy might want to offer you a real job, one that pays the bills and makes you happy.

"We received very good feedback from your first article, and that pleased the owners,” she says excitedly. "I want to make you an irrefutable offer! I know you will be very pleased. I call letting you know which restaurant we meet. Until later."

You stare at your phone like it was a glittering gem. A proposal. One where you can finally become the journalist you have always dreamed of being. And considering recent events, it wouldn't be a bad thing to stay away from Namjoon. You don't want to be around when Alexia walks back down the magazine. Worse still, when Delilah shows up there, telling everyone that it was because of me that she and her beloved Namjoon ended up together.

You phone rings again. You don't recognize the number.

"Hello?"

"MS. Y/l/n?" asks the unfamiliar male voice.

"It is me."

"This is Lieutenant Samuel. I found your contact in the docs of your brother."

"Oh my God." You take a deep breath. "What did Hoseok do now?"

“I'm sorry, miss. He had an accident. Was brought to the hospital and..."

Then everything becomes a meaningless hum. The room is blurred, the beating of your heart drowns out all the sounds around you. The phone falls off your hand. Someone starts screaming. And after many hands try to grab you. You realize it is you. Colored spots dance on your eyes. Your brother's face, with its smirk, flicker between them.

"She's turning gray. I think you're going to faint!" Someone says.

"Then don't just stand there, do something!"

"Y/n!" Namjoon's voice calls. "What's it? Y/n, are you okay?" You think you are being shaken. "What happened? Did anyone see what happened?"

“I don't know, Namjoon. She was on the phone, then she started screaming."

"What phone... Hello? Who...? Oh my God. How is he? At where? Everything is fine, thanks for letting me know, Lieutenant."

You brother is in the hospital. You brother has been in an accident. Is unconscious in an operating room. They don't know the extent of the injuries. You should be prepared, the lieutenant warned.

"I think she's in shock!"

"Y/n, my angel, can you hear me? Blink if you're understanding."

With some effort, you blink.

Someone strokes your cheek.

"Don't Cry. Please, my angel, don't be like this. Hoseok will be fine. Are you listening to me? Your brother is undergoing surgery now, he will be fine. You'll get out of this... Someone bring some water. And get the fuck off her!"

"Wouldn't it be better to call a doctor?" someone suggests.

“I've heard that slapping someone in shock will do the trick."

"Ella, shut up!" yells Namjoon, but his voice turns sweet when, squeezing you numb hand, he says, "I'll take you home."

That works better than Ella's slap would have.

“N-no!" You manage to mutter, blinking back the veil of tears that cover you blind. "I want to see Hoseok. I need to see my brother. I need to stay with him and..."

Oh my God, you can't lose him!

"Hey! Calm." Namjoon is drawing circles on you shoulder. "I'll take you. Here, drinks some water. You are very pale."

Drawing strength from the calm that Namjoon deliberately offers you, you manage to wrap your fingers in the plastic cup he is holding and take a few sips. The water tastes bitter.

"No, don't cry." Strong arms wrap around you, sweet lips touch your forehead. "Please, Y/n. Don't lose hope. Your brother will want to see you well when he recovers."

You lift your head and finally manage to see something. The face next to yours is writhing in anguish.

"Will he?" You mutter in a thin voice.

"Of course, he will! Hoseok is young and strong, and if he has half of your stubbornness, won't let a simple accident finish him off."

You nod, eyes locked with his. "He is stubborn. Enough,” you say.

"You see!" A slow caress, which starts at your temple and ends on your chin, takes away some of the chill that makes you shiver. "Have faith, my angel."

You nod once more, sniffling and wiping your face with the back of your hands. You square your shoulders, trying to look strong. Inside you are torn apart.

“That's the brave girl I know. Think you can stand?"

You can't, but you do, thanks to Namjoon, who supports most of your weight as he puta an arm around your waist. He takes you to the garage and settle you in the passenger seat of your car. Namjoon starts and has a difficult time getting the car to move. Half numb, you explain the vehicle's quirks and keeps quiet throughout the journey.

You are more in control when you entered the hospital, mainly because Namjoon hugs you again. The aseptic and white environment makes you nervous and, when you reached the third floor and enter the crowded waiting room, you see Lorena, the beautiful woman, always impeccably groomed, with disheveled wavy redhead and heart-shaped face, with puffy eyes from crying so much then, all your despair comes back, and you just don't fall because Namjoon is still supporting you.

"Oh, Y/n!" She cries and hugs you. You falter and Namjoon hold you two up. "Hoseok... He... Oh, my God!"

"What happened?" You ask, being led to one of the armchairs.

Namjoon settles you next to Lorena, squeezing your shoulder in a gesture of comforting and hopeful.

“Hoseok was in his car, waiting for the light to open,” she said, torn apart. "A bus coming behind could not stop. The car was launched forward and stopped on the avenue just as a van was crossing. It hit the passenger side. The car is destroyed. They brought Hoseok here unconscious, and the police officer said there was blood everywhere!" she moans, covering face with her hands.

You swallow hard.

"He had an exposed fracture in one of his legs," she goes on. "They don't know about internal damage. That's all I know so far."

"Someone has to tell us something," You object, half rising to your feet staggering, but Namjoon stops you.

“They will." And kindly makes you sit down again. "- As soon as they have something to tell."

You understand the logic he uses, and it makes sense. Ultimately, the lack of news should be a good sign. You look at him and nod once. Namjoon lets two fingers run down your cheek, before leaning back against the wall next to the window, crossing his arms behind his back as the other chairs are busy.

The time is slow to pass. Lorena, a few weeks pregnant, clings to a rosary and recites the prayers in a fervent whisper, eyes narrowed, as if she uses all her strength to communicate with God. Namjoon stays where he was, looking at you, supporting you and trying to keep you calm with his presence.

At one point, he walks up to reception and speaks quietly to the attendant. She nods once and reaches for the phone. a short nurse appears and goes straight to talk to Namjoon. The woman frowns upon hearing what he says and looks at you once, then nods and disappears. Instead of going back close to you, Namjoon just nods and heads for the corridor through which you had arrived. You jump out of your chair at the same

moment, going after him.

"Don't go away, please!" - You beg in terror, reaching him before he can get to the elevators, because at that moment, you can't bear that he will leave you. “I need you… No… don't go away."

Namjoon studies you face with something gleaming in his brown eyes. “I'm just going to the blood bank. Your brother must have needed a transfusion. Inventories are never high. I will try to help." He opens his arms, kind of awkward.

You stare at him with a heart full of gratitude. "I will go too."

"No, no! Stay here. She need's you." He points to the room where sister-in-law is.

Yes, Lorena needs you, but you need him.

"Will you return?" You want to know. And your voice is so small that is reminiscent of a child.

In a whisper that you could have sworn is from a man in love, he says: “I would never leave you." A small smile plays on his lips.

You nod and watch him leave, clinging to his promise to come back. You return to the unnervingly white waiting room and throw yourself into the chair beside Lorena, reaching out for her hand. She lifts her head, the puffy eyes, the quivering lip, the anguish stamped on every feature of his face.

"Thanks." She sobs.

You pull her onto your shoulder and let her cry, trying to keep the tears under control. The short nurse, the one who had spoken to Namjoon earlier, appears with a tray in her hands and some plastic cups on top of it. Your heartbeat fast, in anticipation of what might come out of that woman's mouth. However, what she says takes you by surprise.

“Your boyfriend told me what's going on. Take this, honey." And she hands you a disposable cup, the kind of coffee, containing a white pill. "-You will feel better."

"What is it?"

“Just a muscle relaxant, don't worry. I can't do anything for you, lady." - She addresses Lorena with compassion. "Because of the pregnancy. I am really sorry. You can be sure that we will do what we can for your husband to be fine." She hands her a glass of water.

You don't want to take that relaxer, but the fact that Namjoon had the work of reaching out to her in an attempt to make you feel better somehow warms your heart. He wants to dope you, and that is more than any person had already done for you. You swallow the pill without any complaint.

"What am I going to do if he leaves me?" Lorena sobs when the nurse walks away.

"Hoseok will be fine, Lorena. I know he will."

"How can you be so sure?" She lifts her head to look at your face.

“Because Namjoon said so".

"And does Namjoon have some supernatural power I don't know about?"

“No. But he would never lie to me about something so serious." At the most inopportune moment, the conversation between Delilah and Namjoon in your grandmother's house comes back to your mind.

“Are you two…?” she asks.

"Friends... most of the time," he had replied regretfully.

Why would he feel sad about being my friend? And why didn't he tell her that you were more than friends?

Oh wait, he did! Not exactly that you were lovers, but he said something that made it clear that somehow you are important to him.

"She's…too precious to me."

Too precious for me.

Your eyes widen as realization washes over you.

Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit

What did you do?

The surgeon, in mint green hospital gown splattered with blood, walks out of the double doors pulling off the disposable cap. Namjoon still isn’t back from the blood bank. Lorena and you get up, clinging to each other.

After introducing himself as Dr. Cesar and make sure that you are Hoseok's family members, he says: "The surgery is over, Hoseok is stable. We reconstructed the tibia. He had three fractured ribs, but there was no perforation in any internal organ. There is a concussion to the skull, so he will remain under observation. But he It is going to be okay."

You nearly sink to the ground at the news. The wave of relief is so intense that your limbs seem to have disconnected from each other. Hoseok will be fine, exactly as Namjoon had promised. Thank God!

"Can we see him?" Lorena asks, squeezing your hand.

“As soon as he goes to his room."

Lorena releases you and, to the surgeon's surprise, hugs him around the waist and starts sort of laughing and crying at the same time, uttering a selection of indistinct thanks.

Half an hour later, Lorena and you are led by a middle-aged nurse through the hallway that leads to the patients' rooms.

“He's still a little groggy. Try not to make him anxious and talk short. It is common to become disoriented after anesthesia."

She opens the door carefully, letting you through. Lorena takes your hand, you don't know if to give you some support or if she is looking for support for herself, it doesn't matter. It is good to have her by your side at that moment. There is the man you both love madly.

You enter together. The dim lights left the environment devoid of rather dreary furniture, there is only one uncomfortable-looking armchair and a metal table with two chairs, in addition to the hospital bed. But it is the man lying in bed that makes your heart stop. There are bandages all over his body: his entire left side is destroyed. The head, chin, hand, and forearm. The leg is uncovered, a tangle of metal rods protruding of the orange painted calf, forming a cage around the meat.

Hoseok moves his head on the pillow. Purple half-moons lined under his eyes.

“Hi,” he says on a weak sigh.

"Oh, Hoseok." You approach and strokes his forehead, avoiding the bandage on his temple. "You nearly scared me to death! You better never suffer another accident. I forbid you."

The dry lips, full of tiny cracks, stretches slightly. “If you start crying now, I'm going to throw up."

Lorena sobs loudly. She tries valiantly to fight back tears, but she can't. Your brother bowed his head. You walk away a little to facilitate.

“Babe…” He sighs. It is almost a prayer, and it makes you smile. Hoseok admires her for a long time, as if he is absorbing it to keep it in his heart. "Lorena, you will marry me."

She lets out a childish giggle. "Is that a request or an order?"

Your brother frowns. "Order, I think...?"

"Oh, Hoseok!" She follows him, stopping beside the bed and leaning over to kiss him with all the care in the world.

Hoseok groans, in a mixture of pain, relief and happiness. Despite the nurse's recommendations, Lorena and you start asking questions, and a little confused, he answers them patiently. Lorena strokes his forehead in a steady, careful rhythm as you keep your fingers around his healthy hand. At some point, he stops what he is saying and simply he stares at his girlfriend, his eyes full of tenderness and wonder.

You think that, after the scare, Hoseok has found the answers he was looking for.

“Well, you guys have a lot to talk about,” you say, heading for the door. "I'll look for Namjoon and we'll be back in a bit."

"He is here?" You brother asks.

“Yes, he was the one who brought me. I'll be right back."

"OK." He looks away from his bride-to-be for a second and smiles at you. One of his incisors is chipped at the tip. “Just… don't take long."

You go to the waiting room at the end of the hall and sits down. Ten minutes then Namjoon appears. You throw yourself on him as soon as you sew him, burying your head on his chest, and starts talking about Hoseok's condition.

“I just came here to get you. Come!" But he takes you by the shoulders and stops.

"Before I think I should eat something."

"Yeah, you should eat after you donated blood," You agree.

“I meant you, Y/n,” he explains in a whisper. "You are very pale. I would be more relaxed if you would at least have a coffee... with milk. With plenty of sugar, as you like." Then the let go of you and shove his hands in his pockets.

A half-smile tugs at your lips. You never told Namjoon that you like very sweet coffee with milk. He knows this by watching you in the kitchen

of Just-facts? That attention makes your heart pound. He is taking care of you, worried about you. Because you are too precious to him.

You finally understand that he hasn’t lied to Delilah. He would never lie about something so serious, even if in a conversation with a stranger. He is that kind of man, of few words, but he does good use of them. He might not want you to be his, as he'd made clear on Saturday, but he cares about you. It is enough for you to want him close.

"Okay, let's eat," you agree.

His gentle hand touches your elbow, and he guides you to the cafeteria on the second floor. The place is small and less scary, with subtle colors in the tables and chairs, and a range of colors in packages of all kinds of goodies on the wall behind the counter. Namjoon orders two cheese buns, two waters and a latte. Once you are seated at a table by the window, he pushed the plate towards you, then adds three sachets of sugar to your latte and stirs it before handing it to you.

“Namjoon, thank you. For everything. For bringing me here, for donating blood for..."

“Don't thank me, please." He cuts you off, shaking his head. "I didn't do anything expecting gratitude."

"But you'll get it even if you don't want to. I will never forget what you did for me."

He flashes a shy smile. “I wish I could offer you happier memories, then. Now please eat."

You eat. The two buns in less than two minutes. Namjoon's phone rings as you gulp down the latte.

"What is it, Ademir? Oh... fuck, I forgot." He looks at his watch and rubs his forehead. "No, I know. I'll see what can be done. Nothing runs yet. I'll call you shortly." And hangs up.

"Problems?"

“No… it's just… a hole in the week's issue." He averts his eyes, looking embarrassed, and that's what gives you the hint.

Your zodiac.

“Oh, damn it, Namjoon! I totally forgot." You leave the cup and reach for the bag on the back of the chair, pulling out your phone.

“Don't worry about it now, Y/n. I'm going to fix it."

"No! I should have handed in the zodiac by now, but... "- there were so many things this week that I didn't have the head to write anything. not that it is an excuse. You rummage through the bag until you find the deck. "But I do now, if you give me ten minutes."

"What? In here?" He widens his eyes.

"I'm not leaving my brother's side. So, I'm kind of out of options..." You look around, as if you were being watched. "Uh... don't tell my grandmother that I will do this in a public place. She will kill me if she knows."

He shakes his head uneasily. "Y/n, seriously, you don't have to ..."

"Yes, I do." You interrupt him. "I'm professional. I fulfill my obligations... Sometimes with a little delay, but still. Will only take a few minutes."

You shuffle the cards, thinking about the sign of Aries, opens the notes on your phone and starts typing. That one would definitely not be your best text, but at least you have something to present to the boss. following you keep shuffling, making your interpretations as the drawings that appear, unaware of Namjoon's watchful gaze on you. When you finish, he looks at you with a twinkle in his eye.

"Tarot reader Liz, would you be so kind as to read my fortunes?" he asks, with a shy smile. “I tried it a few days ago, but a crazy woman didn't allow it."

“Don't joke, Namjoon."

"I am not kidding." And from the look of his serious face, he isn't. "I want you to read my fortune. Everyone says you're good. I want to know how good."

You are too grateful to refuse him anything at that moment. And he knows it. Grimacing, you hand him the cards.

"The risk is yours. I'm a charlatan. Shuffle them thinking about what you want to know."

"Yes ma'am." He closes his eyes as he shuffles.

"Now cut."

He does as you ask before handing you the cards. You pick three of them.

“Look,” You begin cautiously. "I've never done this before, not even for Sabrina, and she's already burned my patience to do it. So maybe what I say has nothing to do with your question. The interpretation is mine, but also yours I think."

"Get straight to the point. What does it say?" He approaches, watching carefully the back of the cards.

You turn the cards a little apprehensively. You frown as you study the drawings. “Hmm... That's good, I think. The mountain, the stars, and the sky,” you say, pointing to each image. "The mountain represents the challenges, and the stars are sources of light, so we can assume that the challenges will be trespassed with some ease. Heaven is..."

“There's a dog in the card." He points, brow furrowed.

"I know. But it's the card is the heaven. It symbolizes constancy, fidelity. So, your answer would be something like... the challenges will be overcome with someone very loyal by your side. Does it make any sense?"

"That's not the reading that Liz would do." He shows you that smile with the adorable dimples.

“Oh, is that what you want?" You cleared your throat, folding your hands on the table. "Troubles in sight, but relax, you'll get out of it easy, easy, with a little help from someone who is crazy about you. Is that good?"

He is serious, his eyes fixed on yours. "Much better. And thank you. I hope the cards are right. It's good being able to count with someone in a bad moment."

“My grandmother says cards never lie, but I'm not a real Romani, right? Can't believe what I say." You gather the mess on the table and put everything back in your bag, then save the note with the zodiac and send it to Namjoon. "Done. It's already in your mailbox. If you can, please correct it before sending it to the printer."

"Always do this. I…” He takes a deep breath, looking down at your empty plate.

“You have to go,” You complete sadly.

"But I'll be back," he hurriedly, glaring at you. "As soon as everything is in order on the magazine."

He gets up and you do the same. "Namjoon, I..."

You want to say so much to him. That you have understood that you finally understood, but he doesn't seem too keen to talk to you about the subject. At least that's what it looks like, as he averts his eyes and sticks his hands in his pockets. Your courage disappears.

“Thanks again,” You end up saying.

"Forget it. I really need to go to the magazine, or there won't be time to run the edition. If you need anything, you know where to find me. I will be back later."

He hesitates, and you get the impression he wants to go over and kiss you. But Namjoon does none of it. He just watches you for a moment and is gone. You stay watching his back until he disappears from view. You want to run after him and dump everything that is in your heart right there in a hospital corridor. Instead, like the coward that you are, you take your phone, open a new email, type just two words and sent it to him. Before you can change your mind, you press send and head for the third floor.

Ⓒ 2022 Sugarushsuga, do not copy, translate or repost.

#RM #Kim Namjoon #Namjoon #btswritingcafe #btshoneyhive #btscarnivalnet #bts #bts writing #namjoon fanfiction #kim namjoon fanfic #rm fanfic #bts rm fanfic #kpop fanfic #kpopwriter-sky #namjoon writing #kim namjoon writing #namjoon au #namjoon x y/n #namjoon x reader #kim namjoon x reader #rm x reader #sugarushsuga #03/06/2022

[nerdkiller]

do you have any khanpella (or just pathologic in general) fanfiction reccomendations?

yes I do :)) Basically in the order of when I read them. All are rated gen or teen+. My comments might get spoiler-y but I try to stay unspecific. All of these are post-canon. Thank you for asking anon!!

1. we do not dream of the future (we must keep living) by  arysthaeniru 

“Khan and Capella are called to protect the first blossoming changes to the Town-on-Gorkhon, and rise to the challenge, as always, together.“

This one is one of my favorites and I’ve read it over plenty of times. I love Khan’s loneliness, his feelings about growing up between the new order of his sister and Capella, and just the subdued state of their relationship is really moody and interesting. Also poses an interesting mode of thinking: what would Capella be like once she’s a Mistress? How would they negotiate that with their romantic relationship? 

+Basically any Patho fic by this author is good!

2. what do you know? i'm just a bad believer by ghostlyeris 

“Notkin once asked him how he could tell the difference, three drinks into their routine. Every word fell flat as he tried to explain. There was just a difference between Victoria Olgimskaya Jr.—a woman trying desperately to live up to the lofty shadow her mother had cast, all while taking over for both her father and brother—and Capella, who wanted to be a child just a little bit longer. The same way there was a difference between Khan—former leader of the Dogheads now enforcing the law of the town—and Kaspar, balancing on the edge of adolescence and adulthood as long as he could. 

—What happens when you put two children in charge of rebuilding an entire culture from the edge of ruin? Nothing good for their health.”

Inspired by the 1st, another timeskip fic that follows the same idea of Capella being different to the White Mistress, and she and Khan negotiating that. Another nice, moody piece where they struggle to fulfill the roles they put on themselves in the Town. 

3. now i'm someone else by courierseis 

“a quiet moment in the new kain estate. khan tries to do something nice, but it doesn't go quite right.”

This one’s just short and cute, and I love it a ton. It’s post-canon but more pre-relationship. I like the focus on Capella’s POV and how it explores the tension and agreement to start being allies instead of enemies from her angle, and the vulnerability that requires from her.

4. Patholoveathon 2020, Ch. 2: My Will, Not All the World by ERNest 

“Aiming rocks at bottles, they hit on the truth.”

This one is a microsecond but I like the play of Victor’s quote about Khan/Capella, the playfulness, and how they’re already discussing power and how their families have influenced them in the relationship even in such a childish context. IDK it really suits them.

5. Ephemera by  SquirrellyThief (rating: Gen)

“Ephemera /əˈfem(ə)rə/ noun: something of no lasting significance. Capella and Khan wait out a storm with no one but each other for company. (Set after the Diurnal Ending for Patho 2)“

Hi @squirrellythief I’m gonna expound upon my love for this:

I love this one for being, like that one commenter said, a sort of Marble Nest for Capella (which feels confirmed by the ending). It being from Capella’s POV lets it show all her self-doubts and fears, which she has a lot of! Addressing the loss of the Town’s kids, and her issues with vulnerability around Khan when he just seems so ready to throw everything away for her is wonderful, and it’s nice to see how they try to comfort each other, and the asymmetry between how Khan feels about Capella and vice versa. And how Capella figures out through a future vision how Khan might actually feel about her in the present... There’s something very beautiful about that... very Arrival 2016 about that... 

#khanpella #fic rec #Anonymous #asks #patho tag

[fiendfriend]

Two or so months ago I saw this photo from the 70’s that was part of some gallery or whatever. It was from a photography series. But it was of a toilet bowl and there was blood in it, and this, like. Film of fluids. On top of the water. After I saw it and realized exactly what I was seeing in the two microseconds before I could look away, I just laid there on my bed and hyperventilated for half an hour.

I have these weird dreams still. And they hurt so bad that when i wake up sometimes I check for blood and bruises. Of course I never find anything. And like, sometimes I used to dig my nails into his skin so hard that my fingernails would bend back. And sometimes I feel like if I dug them in harder I’d break the surface and whatever was in him that made him so selfish and stupid would come oozing out. And then I get to thinking that there’s something inside me just like there was something inside him that makes me selfish and stupid. I could have ended it and walked away whenever I wanted to. It’s not like he ever hit me or had financial power over me or anything. I just put up with it because I was more afraid of being the one to end things. I put up with it the same way other people put up with their partner leaving their socks on the floor or chewing with their mouth open. Oh well.

[katierosefun]

han joo won’s relationship with han ki hwan actually makes me so sad because like. han ki hwan is a piece of shit dad, but he’s a piece of shit dad that i think joo won always lowkey wanted some kind of approval from (his helpless “abeoji”, then the quiet look on his face when ki hwan tells him don’t) . . . 

joo won’s desperate “they can’t link this back to me” when ki hwan throws the papers at him . . . 

joo won quietly asking ki hwan if you have anything to explain to me, please explain it now . . .

 i think what hurts me about joo won the most is that i think his relationship with his dad is genuinely one of the more realistic ones in what a bad relationship with a parent looks like. it’s not always yelling and hitting--it can sometimes just be absolute distance, and you can still hate your father, but there might still be a part of you that very desperately, desperately wants some kind of recognition or some sense of this is my father, this is my family, this is my blood. 

and i think that’s what makes joo won’s relationship with ki hwan that much more interesting. there’s a lot of resentment and anger and bitterness there, but joo won slips sometimes--and i think you realize it the most when joo won asks ki hwan are you happy now? 

because in this shot, joo won looks so young--maybe it’s just the puffy eyes, maybe it’s how his voice is suddenly higher-pitched (and that’s a lot, considering joo won has a deep voice), but suddenly, it’s so easy to imagine joo won as this little kid who wondered why his dad wasn’t like others (something that’s more heartbreaking once you realize how in the script book, joo won used to feel sad about his mom and dad). 

and i think in this microsecond, joo won might have grieved a little bit. just a little bit, because i think after everything, he realized that he’d wasted even those few minutes maybe quietly trying to give his father some form of a chance to know now that han ki hwan was never going to actually see han joo won as a son--just another pawn in his plan to being the best. 

all this to say: han joo won is a very complex, very real character and even his relationship with han ki hwan was something that was so finely tuned. 

#caroline talks #beyond evil #my essay #i think about han joo won for too long and i black out

[velveticamoon]

Hi, could u write Chuuya x stuttering reader?

hey there! i’d be more than happy to write this out lolz :) (you didn’t specify whether you wanted it in headcanon form or a drabble/fic so i ended up writing this set of hcs. if you want a full drabble or fic tho let me know, i’m more than happy to write one out!!)

— likes and reblogs are always appreciated, hope you enjoy and have a great day ;)

WARNINGS: cursing, other than that it’s pure fluff lolz

CHUUYA NAKAHARA X GN! READER W/ A STUTTER

- listen dudes i’m writing this while i’m in the waiting room for my blood work to be done but my boredom in this tiny room doesn’t compare to my PASSION AND LOVE FOR THIS MAN

- and i can guarantee y’all with every fibre of my being that he’d be SO CONSIDERATE of you if you have a stutter

- he might even find it kinda cute tbh??

- he’s ur number 1 hype man bro,, if ur feeling insecure for even a single microsecond? he’s all over you and gonna comfort you like his life depends on it

- but like, in a gentle way, yk? he’d coddle and kiss u all over wherever his lips could reach until you didn’t even remember what it felt like to be insecure about your stutter

- and he’d constantly affirm that he loves you no matter how severe your speech impediment may be. he’s not one to dwell on these sort of minor flaws

- hell, he doesn’t even consider it a flaw; every aspect of you is as breathtaking to him as the night view of yokohama from his apartment. his love for the city doesn’t compare to his love for you (he’s such a softie omfg-)

- you could even say his love for you is more blinding than his hatred for dazai 😮‍💨 (i’m jk nothing beats that in this mans heart IM JOKING IM SORRY ILL STOP-)

- ahem, anyways let’s get back on track 😁

- he thinks of you as everything good and perfect in the universe, but there’ll be others out there that refuse to think otherwise (and that’s ok not everyone’s gonna like you, just always remember how much of a bad bitch you are 😫)

- if anyone were to even say anything remotely unsavoury, he wouldn’t hesitate to grab that bitch by the collar and say “you mind saying that one more time, punk? i couldn’t quite hear you over the way your mouth is frothing with lies” with the most intimidating look in his eyes that made the bastard that dared to insult his precious partner quiver with the way it felt like he was staring holes into them that would send them into oblivion

- he’s very overprotective of you, but that’s only because he’s so scared of losing one of the only normalcy in his rather monotonously disturbing lifestyle (cuz he knows better than anyone that the mafia work isn’t pretty, and he could never forgive himself if he were to let someone hurt you in any way, shape or form, whether it be physically or mentally)

- overall, chuuya’s literally the definition of a grumpy chihuahua, but there’s no way he’d ever mistreat his parter whom he loves and adores with every fibre of his being. no matter your imperfections, it’s nothing he’d ever ridicule you for; not when you always manage to bring out the best in him with just your smile

#mimis_mailbox💌 #chuuya hc’s #chuuya x y/n #chuuya x you #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd chuuya #bsd imagines

[adorethedistance]

A Pretty Good Bad Idea - Owen Joyner x Reader

JATP masterlist

Warnings: swearing, peer pressure kinda, very mild n fluffy

Words: 1865

Summary: Touring with the Julie and The Phantoms cast as a dancer has been the best time of your life, and the only thing that could make it better is the reciprocated affections of a cute, blond drummer.

A/N: So this piece is 1) inspired by this interview and 2) entirely self indulgent. It’s something I haven’t been able to get out of my mind every time I’m doing warm ups, and putting it down on ,, digital paper is my only way to get rid of it lmao. I hope y’all enjoy bc I know this scenario makes me really happy and I love sharing my joy with y’all.

I let out an involuntary whine when I roll forward into my almost-center splits. My hips are so sore from yesterday’s performance I had to force myself to start stretching in the first place. Getting a head start, I arrived at the concert venue an hour earlier than call time to get my lengthy stretching routine out of the way before the other girls show up. Slowly but surely, the rest of the dancers arrived and we began getting ready together.

“I have a speaker!” Tori announces to the room upon entering which makes me jump up from my seat.

“Yes! May I do the honors and bless y’all with my musical theatre playlist?” The rest of the group cheers, exposing themselves for the theatre kids that we are. After hearing the chime that signifies the speaker-phone pairing, a few seconds pass before “Cell Block Tango” begins to play. The entire group feigns outrage but we know all the words and soon indulge in such shameful pandering. A good pre-show playlist is what really gets me amped up for performing and after yesterday’s queue of ‘today’s hits’ pop, the musical theatre is a nice change of pace.

Since I’d gotten here so early, I decided to do my makeup before stretching and I still had time to spare. The only thing left for me to do was to get in costume but I’d wait until a little closer to showtime so that I could still eat and drink for the time being. This also meant I was free to roam and bother other people as they got ready, doing what I’d done almost an hour ago.

“So, Y/n?”

“Hm?”

“What’s going on with you and Owen?” I feel my breathing halt for a microsecond before looking up at, one of the other dancers and also my friend, Ella. My eyebrows are cinched in confusion as I try my best to figure out what it is she’s getting at.

“I don’t know, Ella. What is going on with me and Owen?”

“Oh come on. Your Instagram story from yesterday?” Oh. That.

“We just went to lunch?” I seemingly ask more than state.

“Yeah. Just the two of you. Don’t hold out on us, we wanna know what’s going on!”

“Really, Ella, there’s nothing going on. We’re just getting to know each other better.”

“Just getting to know each other better? Or getting to know each other better?” Tori butts in, dusting her cheeks with a subtle highlight.

“The first one?”

“How many times have you hung out?”

“Just the once.”

“Are you planning another date?”

“It wasn’t a date-”

“Do you want us to help wingman you?”

“I really don’t-”

“Hey.” The rapid-fire of questions cease when the gang of us look up to see Owen himself standing in the doorway.

“Speak of the devil,” Tori snickers as the rest of the girls slowly disperse and smugly resume doing their makeup. Owen makes a face in reaction to her comment but chooses not to pry.

“Could I borrow some hairspray? This one piece of hair won’t stay.” Despite each of the girls having a full can of hairspray on hand, nobody makes a move to give him the product, indicating that I should be the one to help him out. Rolling my eyes at the look Ella is giving me through the mirror, I stand from my chair and hand Owen the can of hairspray. He then looks straight ahead and moves to use the product but I stop him before he can.

“What’s your plan?”

“What?”

“Are you just gonna spray the piece?”

“...yeah?”

“That’s not gonna work since the rest of your hair already has product in it. Can I help you?” Owen nods amiably and takes a seat after I gesture for him to sit in my chair. I then realize my mistake as I need the comb on the grey countertop, and have to consequently reach past Owen in a way that wouldn’t be so compromising had I not worn such a low-cut top. Thankfully it’s over as fast as it began, and walking to the sink in the corner of the dressing room, I run the cool water over the bristles. It isn’t until I turn off the tap that I notice how eerily quiet the room had gotten. None of the girls are talking, attentively studying my every move as I cross back to Owen.

“Is this Chicago?”

“Uh, yeah, We’re listening to my musical theatre playlist though, not the whole soundtrack,” I respond in spite of the nervous laugh that falls from my lips. The slight slouch in Owen’s posture doesn’t help me to see what I’m doing clearly enough. Using my index finger and an upturned palm, I tilt his chin up to get a better look at his hair, willfully ignoring the fact that he’s staring at me right now.

Still, silence fills the room as I take the wet comb through the front section of his hair where the stubborn strand won’t stay put. Once the water binds the pieces together, I grab my can of hairspray and struggle to uncap it. The outside is slick from god knows what, but thankfully Owen doesn’t let me struggle anymore and holds up his hands to wordlessly offer his help. I hand him the can, and he pops the top off after barely struggling. Handing the can back to me, he holds onto the lid, and the entire exchange remains completely silent.

I have to work quickly in my next step, but it’s not enough to distract from the fact that everyone in the room is watching me intently. Holding the aerosol can away from the crowd of people, I put some of the product on the comb and quickly work it into Owen’s hair while it’s still wet. Once the comb has formed his hair to my liking, I stop brushing it through in fear of the now dry hairspray ruining the shape. Then, I use my left hand to shield Owen’s eyes from getting any product in them before spraying the offending area to seal in my hard work.

The sound of a cell door sliding closed signifies the end of the song, and I wait for a second, eagerly anticipating the next song to play. Upon hearing the staccato piano notes of “Bad Idea” from Waitress, a smile appears on my face.

“I love this song.” Lunging back on my right leg, I create a little distance between us to make sure I didn’t completely butcher the rest of his hair, singing as I do.

“It’s a bad idea, me and you.”

“I know, I totally agree.” Pleasantly surprised by his joining in, my smile grows bigger.

“It’s a bad idea, me and you.”

“I’ve never known anything so true-”

“It’s a terrible idea, me and you.” The effortlessness that the two of us find in harmonizing is a genuine shock and an absolute thrill all at once. Once Owen sees how excited I am by his joining in me, it’s like a switch had been flipped; the two of us immediately slip into Actor Mode and begin to sing the song as if we were performing it on a Broadway stage.

“You have a wife.” I take a small step back out of the character’s hesitation.

“You have a husband.” Owen mirrors my action.

“You’re my doctor-” I cross my arms across my chest, but release my right hand to gesture to Owen standing in front of me.

“You’ve got a baby coming-” He uses both hands to gesture back to me in my ‘pregnant’ state.

“It’s a bad idea, me and you,” the two of us turn slightly away from facing one another in false bashfulness. When the music picks up, the two of us avidly step toward one another to come together. In perfect synchronization, I grab Owen’s forearms and his hands face upwards to hold onto my elbows.

“Let’s just keep kissing ‘til we come to.”

“Heart, stop racing, let’s face it-” Owen pivots his step out to the side to face forward, extending his right arm which cues me to turn into him and take his other hand to spin out.

“Making mistakes like this will make worse what is already pretty bad.” Then he extends his right arm forward, and I turn into him once again.

“Mind, stop running. It’s time we just let this thing go.” Instead of spinning out again, I stop in front of him where he wraps both of his arms around me.

“It was a pretty good bad idea,” in our harmony I cast my gaze upward to see Owen staring right back down at me, and I feel like I’m seeing stars, “Wasn’t it though?”

The two of us continue dancing and singing with one another as if the rest of the world doesn’t exist. It’s only the two of us, here and now. The other girls in the room don’t miss the way I seem to smile like never before, and I sure as hell don’t miss the way my stomach fills with butterflies. When he holds me so close and dear for each intimate moment of the song, I’m seeing stars. A bold happiness consumes me, the same happiness I felt when Owen and I laughed over lunch in that small pizzeria.

The final harmony draws the song to a close and when it finishes, the two of us fall into a breathless kind of laughter.

“I didn’t take a big enough breath for that last part.”

“Me neither.”

“Your hair stayed intact.”

“I must have a pretty good stylist.”

After recovering from our laughter the two of us wind up in a palpable stupor as we stare into one another’s eyes. A few blinks and my trance is broken, I become aware of our surroundings.

“I should get dressed soon, and you definitely need to get dressed.” Owen nods still somewhat breathless.

“Yeah. See you later for pulse?”

“Save me a spot,” I joke as he backs out of the threshold of our dressing room. Leaning against the doorframe I watch him disappear into his assigned dressing room with a small smile still lingering on my features.

“Just getting to know each other my ass!”

“What the heck was that?”

“Are you sure you don’t want us to wingman you?”

“Do you even need a wingman after something like that?”

Turning on my heel, I face the bunch of insatiable dancers and shake my head in disbelief.

“We were just acting, you guys.”

“Liar.”

“Excuse me?”

“Maybe you were acting, but he sure as hell wasn’t. Did you see the way he was looking at you? He is totally in love with you.” Ella shakes me by my shoulders.

“He’s just a really good performer is all.”

“When is your next date?” she completely ignores me.

“Okay-”

“Oh, and I want to be the maid of honor at your wedding-”

“It was just a song, Ella.”

“-Oh my god you guys are gonna have the cutest kids! I mean, your hair with his eyes and cheekbones? Ahh! The cutest.”

***

A/n: the way that being on tour isn’t the most unrealistic part of this fic, but instead Owen actually knowing the lyrics is? Work diva.

Taglist: @caitsymichelle13​ @kaitlyn2907​ @itz-jas​ @crybabyddl​ @kcd15​ @kinda-really-lost​ @calamitykaty​ @morganayenneferburnham​ @n0wornever​ @dream-a-little-bigger-x​ @mrstodorooki @vicesvsvirturesfanfic @curlybrownhairedboys​ @amazinggracy​ @kaitieskidmore1​ @asdfghjkl-fanfics​ @ghostlygreenbean​ @juliefromaustralia @merceret​ @jemimah-b99​ @ifilwtmfc​ @thesweetestsinner​ @imsydneywalker​ @lovesanimals​ @thebloodthirstyvampress​ @bumbleberry-pie​ @losers-club6​ @tefilovesreading​ @dmcfarland1​@joynerxmercer @kexrtiz​ @talk-on-the-street​ @phantompogues​ @konciousdreamer​ @sunsetcurvej​ @warmnesss0ul​ @celestialmolina​ @lilyjoyner​ 

#What's up with queue #Julie and the phantoms #Julie and the phantoms fanfiction #Julie and the phantoms fanfic #Julie and the phantoms fic #Julie and the phantoms writing #Julie and the phantoms imagine #Julie and the phantoms oneshot #Julie and the phantoms one shot #Julie and the phantoms fluff #Julie and the phantoms smut #Julie and the phantoms angst #Julie and the phantoms x reader #Julie and the phantoms x y/n #Owen Joyner #Owen Joyner fanfiction #Owen Joyner fanfic #Owen Joyner fic #Owen Joyner writing #Owen Joyner imagine #Owen Joyner oneshot #Owen Joyner one shot #Owen Joyner fluff #Owen Joyner angst #Owen Joyner smut #Owen Joyner x reader #Owen Joyner x y/n #Owen Patrick Joyner #Owen Patrick Joyner fanfiction #Owen Patrick Joyner fanfic

[joheun-saram]

“Is your refrigerator running?” (jjk)

Summary- Who knew the annoying prank calls you were receiving would become the favourite part of your day.

word count- 4.2k

pairing- fratboy!Jungkook x Reader

rating- PG-13

genre- fluff, collegeau

warnings- none! just stupid jokes.

a.n- Part of my drabbles for @btsholidaybingo​, ticking off the Prank Calls tile! I’ll be posting these every week or so as I get them done. Check out the other drabbles here :)

s/o to the beautiful @heyitsmeee2​ for beta reading and helping me fix the ending! 💕

As always feedback appreciated. Send me an ask! 💌

-

“So how’s your new boyfriend?” Namjoon asked you as you chewed on your fries, almost choking at his insinuition. He laughs at you as he takes a sip of his milkshake, slurping obnoxiously, his eyes widening as he concentrates on the flavour.

“Stop! He’s just a random guy with too much time on his hands! I don’t even know his name! Although...” You stared at your burger, trying to forget what your roommate was alluding to. Two months ago you had started getting phone calls from a stranger. It wasn't something from a horror movie, don't worry. It was harmless. He would call you at random times in the day to ask you silly questions. You don’t know how he even got your number but there was something about his easy going nature and lame jokes that made you want to continue talking to him. Namjoon suspected it was a byproduct of your loneliness, but it was comforting hearing his voice to break through your mundane day to day. 

"Hi, is this Y/N?" A deep voice spoke as you picked up the call from an unknown number.

"Yes this is she. Who is this?" You asked as you sat up straighter, your attention diverting from the paper you were writing. You had applied to eight jobs for after graduation and you were sure this was a call for an interview, even though it was 10 pm. Your eyes lit up as you hoped this was the big consulting firm you were waiting to hear from.

"I have a very important question that I was hoping you could help me with."

"Um.. sure go ahead." You fiddled with your pen, scribbling random shapes on your notebook, feeling somewhat nervous. Is this how employers usually talked? Did they do this to build anticipation?

"Is your refrigerator running?"

"I'm sorry what?"

"Is your refrigerator running?" 

"Are you calling on behalf of the landlord?" Your voice was flat with disappointment. Surely, this was not an important question. Oh how you wished it was an interview call. You sighed.

"Please answer my question."

"Yes. It's running."

"Then you better go catch it, shouldn't you?"

And with that he hung up and you were baffled. Which decade was this dude from? Who does these lame prank calls anyway and more importantly why does your caller ID not show who it is? Thinking nothing of it, you go about finishing your assignment, albeit slightly aggravated. However, the calls continue. Everyday this stranger would call you with questions, sometimes with a silly punchline but oftentimes even sillier riddles.

"Okay, dude seriously. This is getting annoying." You huffed after a week and a half of receiving calls from the same deep voiced stranger, although you’d be lying if you said his little laugh after he told his jokes was not endearing.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to annoy you." He seemed hurt and you couldn’t fathom why he would be hurt over a comment a stranger made over his prank calls. In fact, you were sure this was some hobby of his and he had a rotation of strangers to bother.

"Can you at least tell me your name?" You don’t know why you were indulging him, but you had to give him props for constantly calling you. It was kind of becoming part of your daily routine.

"Dixie. My name's Dixie." You could hear the mirth in his tone.

"Dixie? Oh I thought you were a dude, my bad."

"I can be a dude and still have Dixie as my name. Jeez, are you a bigot?" He scolded.

"Sorry, sorry! I didn't mean it that way, Dixie."

"That's Dixie Normus to you." He laughed at his joke, every syllable of his laugh separated as if he was a cartoon character.

"Oh my god. You're the worst!" Regardless of your words, you were laughing. Laughing hard enough to have the banana milk you were drinking to snort out of your nose, making you cough. For a moment, you were glad this stranger wasn't in the room.

"Sorry! Are you okay?" You could hear the humour in his words, shading them in anything but an apology.

And so it went, your mysterious caller, who refused to go by anything other than Dixie turned into a somewhat friend, if you can even call someone who you know no personal details about your friend. After a month the phone calls had turned from cringe worthy puns to actual conversations about your day. You had started to look forward to the unknown flashing on your screen, and sharing the mundane details of your day with Dixie.

In two months you learned a lot more about Dixie. He went to your university, he was an avid gamer, he majored in computer science, and apparently it was now part of his daily routine to call you whenever he was cooling down from his workout on the treadmill - explaining the creepy breathlessness of his voice and beeps in the background. Sometimes you had half a mind to go to the university gym during your calls and see your mysterious friend, but somehow you never found the courage. It was nice not knowing what Dixie looked like, not judging someone by their looks but just by the content of their words. There was no room for disappointment.

It also oddly comforted you that you would never meet him and during your nightly conversations you would end up sharing thoughts that you’d be too uncomfortable sharing with even your best friends. Thoughts about the uncertainty you had over graduating soon, thoughts about being sad over failed relationships, even thoughts about your random existential crisis that would plague you mid week. Dixie was empathetic and had a knack for comforting you with small jokes and his own struggles. You would never admit it to Namjoon, but Dixie was slowly becoming your closest friend, even surpassing him to a certain extent.

"You're insane you know that?" Namjoon chided as you talked about Dixie and how you considered him a friend now. Even though Namjoon was your best friend since first grade, he sometimes didn't understand why you romanticised daily events so much. He never understood why you kept giving Dixie the benefit of the doubt, why you kept picking up his phone calls even when you knew it was going to be a lame joke or two.

"I'm not insane Joon! Haven't you heard of pen pals? This is the same thing but with voice."

"Nah. I think it's your crippling loneliness. Which is why we're going to Jin's frat party tonight." Namjoon was not having any of your excuses. So what if your last relationship was a year ago. You and Yoongi were great together. He was the perfect boyfriend and after he went to LA to pursue his music career, you told him you'd wait. Turns out he wasn't on the same page as you since six months after moving, he called you to break things off. He was right though, it would have been stupid to wait for him when neither of you knew when and even if he was ever coming back. It was unfair to the both of you to keep dragging this thing along. But even if Yoongi hadn't been around the last year and a half, you just couldn't see yourself with anyone else. You still missed talking to him every night and sharing your day, laughing at stupid videos together or just listening to him playing the piano through the static line of your phone. Maybe Namjoon was right. Maybe you were lonely and the only reason you were so attached to Dixie was because of the way his phone calls had replaced Yoongi's and how you no longer waited at the end of your day staring at your phone waiting for your ex's call but instead you received real actual calls from your voice pen pal.

You sighed agreeing with Namjoon and went home, not exactly looking forward to the party and missing Dixie’s call.

------------------------

Jin's frat was notorious for the wildest parties on campus. It was always a cacophony of drunk students and a pit of hedonism. When Namjoon and you arrived, the party was in full swing and you thanked your best friend for having the foresight of pre-drinking. The bottle of grapefruit soju you had emptied earlier at your shared apartment ensured that you were not put off by the plethora of drunk guys trying to hit on you microseconds after you entered.

Looking for Jin and let's be honest, a little gin as well, you and Namjoon made your way to the kitchen, to be greeted by your tall friend doing a keg stand. Beer dripped down his chin as his fraternity brothers held him up, his feet almost touching the ceiling. As you poured yourself a gin and tonic, Jin climbed down from the keg to a chorus of applause. Much to your chagrin, he walked over, draping his arms around your shoulders and plastering your back with his beer soaked chest.

"Ew get off me you vermin!" You squealed, shivering in the gross feeling, your backless top doing nothing to shield you from your friend’s shirt as he refused to budge.

"Vermin? VERMIN?! I invite you to my house, give you free drinks, and an array of decent dicks to pick from and I'm the vermin?" Jin finally detaches, giving you a scowl as he leans against the kitchen island, pouring himself what you gather is his tenth drink of the night.

"Jin all of these guys are as gross as you. And I've told you I don't need to get laid!"

"Sure tell that to your vibrator working overtime."

"How did you even - " you sputered, eyes wide with disbelief.

"Namjoon, obviously. And before you kill him, there are no secrets between friends and part-time lovers." He winked, making you roll your eyes. Namjoon and Jin had been on and off since the beginning of freshmen year, neither the type for commitment but to your dismay loved to tell you all about their rollercoaster of a relationship. You swear you could write a thesis on dysfunctional relationships using theirs as a case study.

"Ew. Please stop. I don't need to know about you and Joon getting it on."

"Well then let me introduce you to someone so you can get it on." He wiggled his eyebrows puckering his lips to annoy you. 

"I know all your brothers Jin and no thank you." You lightly slapped his lips making him groan as he grabbed your wrist continuing his tirade. You’d be lying if you said his frat brothers had never caught your eye - they were famous for their astoundingly good looks, in fact there even seemed to be an instagram page dedicated to people randomly spotting them on campus (@betatauinthewild). However, their good looks did not make up for the fact that they were a bunch of loud fuckboys. You loved Jin and Namjoon and would literally stab anyone who said anything against them but you had to agree that they were the biggest players of the group, finding a new person to bed almost every weekend. That is, unless they were with each other - case and point their dysfunctional relationship.

"Well we have a new brother and he's my little brother. He's a sophomore, he just joined, and he's your type. The whole quiet but nice guy type." Jin continued, ignoring you in typical fashion.

"I don't have a type."

"Please! As if Yoongi wasn’t a cookie cutter tsundere. Come on let me introduce you to him!" He grabbed your shoulder and pleaded, pouting and widening his eyes in the most adorable puppy dog face you had seen him pull.

"Can we not talk about Yoongi please." You sighed. You finished your drink and proceeded to pour another one. 

"Yes! Let's talk about JK!"

"Jin... come on. Let's just drink okay?"

"Fine but I'm telling you, you'll get along. He's a great guy."

An hour into the party, you had lost both Jin and Namjoon and were getting tired of Jin’s exceedingly drunk frat brothers trying their pick up lines of the day on you. Your head was hurting from the noise of the party and you were sure if you saw another couple subtly trying to test their exhibitionism kink you were going to puke. So as it was typical for whenever you went to these parties, you started to make your way to Jin’s room. Jin may be loud and obnoxious and being lusted after by pretty much the entire campus, but he was reliable for one thing: he never fucked where he slept. And so his room became a sort of sanctuary for you when these parties would get too much.

You made your way up the stairs almost tripping over two guys who had decided that making out horizontally on the stairs was a good idea - you did not envy how busted their backs would be tomorrow. Punching in the code you walked in to find that there was already someone there, reclined on the bed with his arms behind his head, earphones in, humming gently as he stared at the ceiling. You had never seen him before, but boy did you wish you did. His dark hair was splayed over the pillows, a smile ghosting his full lips. He was dressed in all black, much like you but unlike your lace bodysuit and skinny jeans, he was wearing a boxy back t shirt with ripped jeans, his feet in those questionable toe socks. And he was buff, even though his body was mostly covered you could make out the muscle in his arms, one of which had intricate tattoos etched on to. You’re unaware how long you stared at this stranger, but suddenly he turns his face looking at you. Seeing you there he immediately jumps up, pulling his earphones out, startling you in turn.

“I- I’m sorry. Y-you can’t be h-here,” he stutters out, a soft blush rising up his cheeks as he nervously pulls at his ear.

“I should be saying that to you. Why are you in Jin’s room?” You shut the door, leaning on it, feeling oddly territorial.

“I- Hyung needed my room.” You found the stuttering boy in front of you endearing. Something about how he bashfully stared at anything but you while speaking made you want to hug him. 

“Oh my god! You let him into your room? Drunk during a party?” You almost scream, but lower your voice seeing the alarm on his face. Walking over, you sat next to him, a few feet away so as not to make him uncomfortable. “Do you like doing laundry or something?” you joked.

Hearing your question the boy perks up, looking at you with a bright smile that made your heart skip a beat. “I do actually! How did you know?” he asks excitedly. You almost felt bad bursting his bubble.

“I didn’t… It’s just - you know Jin’s probably having sex in there right?” You look at the abject horror on his face in sympathy, so you try to change the subject. “Nevermind. Why are you hiding in here?”

“I’m not hiding. I just got bored. Everyone there just wants to hook up or get blackout drunk.”

“You do realise which frat you’re part of right?”

“I know,” he chuckles, seemingly more relaxed as he lays down on the bed, his feet still on the floor. “I honestly didn’t even wanna join but I’m a legacy so my dad really wanted me to be a part of it, Beta Tau pride and all.”

“Not to be a bitch, but dude you sound like a protagonist of a shitty college romcom,” you laugh looking down at him as he smiles, crossing your legs on the bed as you turn towards him, forcing yourself to ignore how cute he looks from this angle.

“You think you’re being a bitch, but that's a great compliment. I wish my life was a romcom. It’d be so easy…”

“Okay, emo. What’s wrong?”

“You’re going to think it’s dumb.”

“Hey I don’t even know your name! What have you got to lose?”

“Fine. There’s this girl I like and we always call each other… Well I call her.... at this time, but she didn’t pick up. So yes I’m emo, and yes I wish I was in a romcom so I’d go downstairs and randomly run into her.” He looks at you with a sad smile, shrugging slightly, and you feel yourself deflate. Not that you were interested in him or anything. You were sure it was just the alcohol in your system making you feel extra empathetic. Yup that’s it.

“Hey, that’s not stupid,” you say gently. “What if she’s down there did you check?”

“Well… I don’t actually know what she looks like… So, no…”

“Oh then maybe you should call her again! What if she was busy?”

“I don’t wanna be pushy, you know? I’m not even sure she thinks of me the same-”

“YO DIXIE! You in there?” A loud knock booms through the room accompanied by a deep voice. The attractive stranger next to you rolls his eyes before standing up, and at hearing his nickname you feel your heart kickstart, racing as you blink in disbelief. It can’t be…

“Dixie?” you stutter out.

“What’s up dude?” He opens the doors talking to Taehyung, one of the other Beta Tau brothers, as they start talking about something. You can barely hear their conversation, your brain full of scenarios and questions, your face crimson. You never thought you’d meet Dixie in real life. Do you tell him? Do you just run away? Why did he have to be so hot?!

Taehyung notices you on the bed for the first time and in typical fashion starts hollering and high-fiving Dixie. “Damn dude! The president’s best friend! Good for you!” He snickered as Dixie looked at him with his mouth agape, before turning to you. “Ay Y/N. Treat our boy JK well okay? He’s too nice for you!”

“Fuck off hyung!” JK, apparently that’s his name, shoves Taehyung as he grins widely before wiggling his eyebrows suggestively and shutting the door, seemingly getting all that he came for.

“You’re Dixie…?” You stare up at him, standing up as you try to control the overwhelming urge to wrap your hands around him. Fuck, maybe Joon was right you did have a crush on your voice pen pal.

“I- Y/N?” He looks at you, mirroring your wide eyes. “The same Y/N I’ve been talking to?”

“Call me,” you almost whisper.

“What?”

“Call me so I know it’s real.” You move closer holding your phone up as he pulls his out of his pocket to dial your number. Your phone rings, displaying a set of numbers instead of unknown for the first time, and the two of you just stare at the vibrating device in your hand. It seems like time stood still, the air thick with tension as your shitty ringtone bounces off the walls. That is until you start laughing. Not giggling, full on laughing, holding your stomach as tears spill down your face, as JK looks at you in alarm, his arms hovering near you as you double over.

“Holy shit! You are the protagonist of a romcom!” You finally wheeze out as you hold his arm for support, while he looks at you with a frown. You’re unsure why this was your reaction, but you recover quickly to start your interrogation.

“So what’s your name Dixie or JK?”

“Jungkook, actually. Dixie’s my gamertag and JK is just what Jin hyung calls me.”

“How did you get my number?”

“Umm… I might have stolen it from hyung’s phone…”

“Why?”

“Because he prank called my friends first.” He spoke with a pout, and you swear your heart forgot to function.

“Why keep calling?”

“Really Y/N? You’re gonna interrogate me?” He raised an eyebrow at you.

“Keep talking Dixie!” You chuckled as his shy demeanor gave way to the Dixie, well the Jungkook, you knew. It was weird how fast the earlier awkwardness dissipated into comfort.

“What? I thought you sounded pretty! Sue me!” He shrugged, leaning back against the door, his hands in his pocket. Your eyes followed the movement, momentarily distracted by how his forearms flexed. Clearing your throat, you continued as he smirked, not missing the way your eyes seemed to be roaming his body.

“You said you were trying to call the girl you like. So you like me?” You try to sound as matter of fact as you could, but your voice wavered slightly at the last part as you made the mistake of looking at his face. He tilted his head, causing his hair to fall into his eyes that were boring holes into you, his smirk getting larger. Oh how you wished he turned back into the boy talking about how much he liked laundry.

“I thought it was obvious. I call you every night.” He stood straight, taking a step towards you causing heat to creep up your face at his sudden confidence. You don’t respond as he moves closer, causing his steps to falter. “Do you like me?” he asks, his voice a little smaller. You’re getting whiplash from the changes in his tone, but his question makes you feel warm. You haven’t felt this way in a long time, there’s butterflies in your stomach, your hands feel clammy, and you’re sure you can feel the heat off his body, so aware of where he stands merely inches away from you.

“I think so…” you move closer and he raises his hand as if to hold your hip but stops, hovering just centimeters away as looks at you, his gaze smouldering.

“What’ll make you sure of it?” he asks in a whisper, and before you can even comprehend the question, you are leaning up on your toes to press a light kiss against his lips. His lips are slightly chapped and you’re sure he can feel your heartbeat through them. Your skin tingles where he brings his hand on your hip, gently holding you. He doesn’t push you further, just leans his forehead on yours when you separate to whisper quietly, “This.”

“And?” His nose brushes against yours as you place your hand on his chest, his pounding heart mimicking yours. He slowly rubs his hands on your hips where they lay, and it’s like your skin is electrified.

“I’m sure,” you say as he crashes his lips on yours, pulling you closer as your arms snake around his neck. His reaction is much stronger this time as he moves his lips against yours feverently. He pulls you flush against him, your body molding against his hard muscles. His hands grip at your hips as he licks lightly at your lip, groaning as they part. It seems like he can’t decide what to do with his hands, roaming them over your sides, relishing the little moan you make as one of them cups your ass. His earlier shyness disappears, and who are you to resist him, as your hands in his hair pull him closer. It’s like everything finally makes sense, why you could never ignore his calls, why your heart raced whenever you heard him call your name through the static of your speaker. You had spent this whole time convincing yourself that he was just a stranger you could vent to when it was clear to you now that you were falling for him.

He whispers your name as you break apart, but his mouth continues down your jaw to your neck, kissing and sucking at the skin. His teeth drag across your collarbone, and you whimper at the way he soothes it with his tongue as you press your body even closer into his.

“Hey Y/N! Joon’s looking for you!”

The two of you break apart at the interruption, chest heaving and faces flushed. Looking up at Jungkook, you smile as he looks away shyly, his lip caught between his teeth, before turning to your best friend who is excitedly hopping in the doorway.

“I knew you would get along with JK!” Jin exclaims as you look once again at Jungkook before you both break out in a laugh. Trust Jin to know who you’d fall for before you. He comes up to pat his frat brother on the shoulder before his proud smile turns into a glare, warning the two of you that his room was for sleeping only and abruptly kicking you out. 

The two of you giggle as you make your way downstairs, unable to keep your hands off of each other, going from holding hands to hugging to sneaking kisses in the kitchen as you make your drinks. Before the night ends the two of you end up sitting in the backyard, kissing under the stars and planning your first date later that week, even though it felt like you had known each other an eternity.

You had never felt luckier to pick up a random phone call.

#bts fic #bts fanfiction #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #btsholidaybingo #thebtswritersclub #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #jungkook x yn

[linkspooky]

Gojo and Mahito

Nanami and Gojo share several parallels as pointed out by Nanami in Chapter 22 of Jujutsu Kaisen. A connection between the two of them that’s developed to the point where we see Mahito steal a technique from Gojo (domain expansion activation for only a few microseconds) in the latest chapter. More on the parallels of Gojo and Mahito, because for both of them there’s more than meets the eye. 

1. Children with Too Much Power

Mahito parallels Gojo, but more specifically I believe he has the most in common with teenage Gojo we see in Hidden inventory. Especially on two key points. Both of them had immense strength that they hadn’t quite figured out yet.

Teenage Gojo, who was still figuring out the infinity and could not yet quite make the universe bend at the snap of his finger tips. In his introductory arc when Mahito was fighting Nanami, he was like a child figuring out how to use his body for the first time. 

Everything he does in that arc is out of a childish sense of curiosity. He gets to close to Junpei, to observe what will happen from prolonged interaction with a human. He toys around a long time with fighting Nanami because he’s still figuring out how his curse technique works. 

Unlike the other curses who seem to already exist knowing what they are, or have existed for years already long enough to figure themselves out, Mahito is actively learning about himself when he fights Nanami. 

Just like Gojo, being pushed to the brink of death by an incredibly powerful enemy, only seems to make Mahito bounce back stronger. Mahito and Gojo parallel each other in their comparison to Nanami. Simply put, Nanami is the most mature character in the series, he’s the role model for a normal, decent adult. 

While Gojo will drag children to battlefields, or take big bets with their lives, Nanami acts much more responsibility, with respect to the fact that Yuji is a child whose emotional well being he’s nurturing. 

Nanami is introduced to us as the opposite of Gojo, someone mature while Gojo is immature. He even says that he doesn’t respect him in the least bit. Gojo’s powerful, but he’s not grown up. Nanami even explains this quite logically, people don’t grow up by fighting bad guys, or getting stronger. People grow up by accumulating experiences. 

Gojo and Mahito are all powerful in ways that Nanami will never be, while at the same time they act like children. Especially teenage Gojo, but even adult Gojo doesn’t really like to get along well with other people, and decides everything based on his own emtoions and perspective. In other words both Gojo and Mahito have a tendency to be egocentric. 

Egocentric. 

thinking only of oneself, without regard for the feelings or desires of others; self-centered. 

2. The World Through Their Eyes

Mahito and Gojo are characters who appear childish and frivolous on the surface, but if you plunge their depths they have a deeper understanding of themselves and their desires than most ofther characters in the series. They might not get other people, but that’s not their priority either. In classic Jungian symbolism, shallow water belies greater depths. 

Gojo and Mahito are both extremely well thought characters, capable of immense amounts of self reflection. (Probably too much self reflection in Gojo’s case, he just loves looking at himself in the mirror a little too much how vain.) It not only shows in how much of themselves they have figured out but also their jujutsu. I think it’s safe to say that there is some resemblance between the infinity, and Mahito’s idle transifguration. Their Jujutsu makes them both privvy to the world that no one else can see. It’s unknown what Gojo can see with the six eyes exactly, but considering the limitless. 

You can infer that he’s capable of seeing much greater sensory perception than the normal person. Mahito doesn’t have the six eyes, but because his jujutsu is about altering the form of the soul, he has the unique ability to see the shape of the soul inside of the body.

Mahito can see through people’s bodies, and see down to their souls. However, his perceptiveness has caused him to give up on the idea that people have any individuality at all, that they have “hearts” you know like, thoughts and feelings and stuff. Which is why all humans are pretty much interchangable to him. Mahito can’t see life separate as him from having any particular value. 

Both of their cursed techniques create distance between themselves and others. Though in opposite ways. Gojo’s cursed technique is based around the idea that nothing can reach him, because it will always slow down in the infinite space between them. Mahito is able to completely change the shape of whatever he wants with one touch. 

However, at the same time this resembles how they both interact with other people. Mahito sees people as nothing more than toys to play with and experiment in developing his jujutsu technique on. He even is literally pictured in an official color illustration as destroying Junpei, Nobara, and Nanami as torn up dolls. They were just toys that he got bored with and threw away. 

Gojo can sometimes even share this tendency, not to mercilessly kill and slaughter of course not, but to be so far away from other people, and too busy perceiving the infinity that he can’t get caught up in ordinary lives. Remember, Mahito, Jogo and Hanami’s plan was to shake up Gojo with the sheer amount of people he would have to save in Shibuya, and it just... didn’t work. 

Gojo just isn’t that shaken up by the people he can’t save. He’s not Geto. He’s not Yuji. Of course he cares enough to try and minimize the damage, he could have just used unlimited domain to end the situation at the cost of everybody gathered, but he made a decision to try to balance between everybody’s lives, protecting his own, and exorcising the curses. 

Mahito and Gojo are both extremely distant from other people, but because of that they have a unique understanding of themlseves. Mahito’s domain expansion is called “Self Embodiment of Perfection.” When Gojo figures out reverse Jutsushiki he quotes the budha when he reached enlightenment. 

They are extremely isolated characters who have others plumbed the depths of themselves. Gojo’s goal is to be the best version of himself he can be, to push himself into being the strongest. Their individual will is so strong they want to impose it on the world around them. Gojo wants to reset the jujutsu world, Mahito wants a world of curses. 

They both encourage the other people around them to also think deeper about themselves, and how to evaluate themselves. Gojo tells Mahito to stop repressing himself for the sake of others. To try to be stronger individually instead of more of a team player. Instead of judging those around you, look inwardly. 

Mahito is furious that Yuji doesn’t evaluate himself, doesn’t think deeply about his own motivations. That’s what he criticizes Yuji for constantly, he doesn’t think for himself, he runs blindly into fights. Mahito calls their fight a clash of truth. Yuji has to know his own self, and know his belifs and know why his beliefs are better than Mahito’s if he wants to face him. 

Mahito and Gojo are both always looking inside of themselves, and that’s why their depths go much further than their seemingly shallow surface. If I were to make one last comparison between the two of them, I would say that the reason Mahito imitates Gojo is because his end goal is to become enlightened. What Mahito wants, is to be true to his nature, the truest embodiment of a curse in the series. He wants to reach an enlightenment like Gojo has where he has himself, his role in the world, completely and totally figured out. Where he embodies his own idealized sense of perfection. 

Which is why he imitates Gojo, the strongest. Though his is the opposite path, like a reflection of a mirror. If Gojo uses his power to be the model, the embodiment of a jujutsu sorcerer who exorcises curses to save human lives, then Mahito chooses to be the embodiment of a curse that plagues humans.

Mahito and Gojo both see through things, they can see what everybody else can’t, however they differ in how they use those perceptions. Gojo tethers himself to responsibility to other people, because he finds meaning in doing that, he thinks there’s a point in protecting and nurturing the weak because eventually he’ll be able to find strong comrades. Mahito however, believes in the opposite of camraderie. He can see through other people, so he acts like they’re not even there. Gojo is a character who while his tendency is to try do everything on his own, is currently waiting rescue from the strong comrades he focused so hard into training. While Mahito will most likely end up alone. 

#gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojou satoru #satoru gojou #mahito #jjk meta #jujutsu kaisen meta #jujutsu kaisen analysis #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu analysis #jujutsu meta

[cooloddball]

JIB9 (JIBCON 2018) ANALYSIS PART 2

Go read part 1 of jib9 analysis if you haven’t read it already.

Continuing from where we left off...

Misha says no, he doesn’t think that Cas feels like part of the family and Jensen smirks and looks down while Jared smiles

Jensen helps Misha along with his answer 

Jensen defends Sam and Dean after Misha says they don’t show emotion saying things like “I love you so much”

Jens: “There are a few scenes where you know,”

Jared: “Didn’t you see the one with the whole if we die we will do that together too?”

Jens: “Yeah that was emotional”

This is getting serious people. Remember this is season 13 they are talking about.

Jens keeps going on “you know there was embracing, and then there was a lot-I mean…” This whole time Jensen is looking at Misha

Misha is like “All I’m saying…”

And Jensen cuts Misha  off and says, “Did you miss that?”

Look at Jared’s face here though. He’s like are you guys having a lovers’ quarrel? Am I missing something?

Misha tries to talk again but Jensen is adamant, unrelenting to give up on that there was an emotional scene between Dean and Cas. 13x05???  “Were you not there?”

Misha being who he is and not backing down either he says, “NO” rather defiantly. 

Jared’s face here though. He stopped talking and is watching these two lovers go at it. (No, not the sexy kind)

Jensen doesn’t look too thrilled about what Misha said. Jared laughs Jensen is basically done at this point. Look at his face.

Misha continues “That was Castiel”

And Jensen just looks appalled, he raises his eyebrows looks down at his hands [0.43 insert Jensen’s face atm] and since Misha is looking at him and he sees that Jensen is unhappy he adds “I’m very method.”

Jensen goes to say something but stops himself, Jared senses the tension, Misha is still looking at Jensen and Jensen hasn’t looked at Misha since he asked him “were you not there?”

IDK what is going on here but it fees like more than just about Dean and Cas and more like it’s about Jensen and Misha. I mean Jared and Misha are having fun with it and Jensen just seems adamant to prove they care A LOT about Cas which is weird considering the fact that the moment Misha was asked that question Jensen agreed with Jared that they are not as pleased that Cas was back (this was a joke) . So what has changed since then? Only a few seconds have passed.

Jensen presses on, “I mean was Cas there? I know he was there physically but was he there emotionally? Because it doesn’t sound like it.”

The way Misha is holding his microphone he looks scared. Jensen can’t take his eyes off Misha.

Misha says, “see this is what I’m talking about” I think he realizes Jensen is getting too emotional and personal on stage and he decides to guide the conversation to the funny side.

Jensen laughs .

Misha says “ I don’t think he [Cas] lets himself feel worthy or wanted” and Jensen keeps looking at a fixed spot on the floor and I don’t know what’s so interesting there. Jared says “smart” in reference to Misha’s statement and Jensen nods.

Jared tries to make fun but Misha is not having it, he [Misha]  looks at an imaginary watch and says  “That said-uh…that said I think this season he’s felt more part of the team and the family…probably *looks at Jensen* more than ever before” Now I talked about that moment here but I have to reiterate, something is off here tbh. I don’t know what was going on with Jensen but something was definitely off.

I have been thinking about what the causation of Jensen’ s behaviour could be and I have come to a very weird and maybe kind of controversial conclusion, IDK. But  here’s what I think. Maybe Misha finally told Jensen that he didn’t feel like he was part of the family because of the way they treated him and talked shit about him at J2 panels? Like how he pretended to gag when he saw Misha on screen during the jib9 j2 panel the previous day. Or the extreme pranks Jared played on him and Jensen just stood aside? The way some  j2 fans send hate to him and that it gets to him. Maybe he finally opened up. Because if that is the case then,  Jensen blamed himself for making Misha feel like that when he didn’t have any intention to? I hope I’m making sense. Or maybe it could be something else entirely but I feel like since 2017 Jensen had stopped going along with Jared’s attempts to make fun of Misha at their panes. So maybe this was him feeling bad that he ever played a part in that??? Okay my head hurts I have to move on. 

Since that moment Jensen doesn’t look okay, even when Mishalecki are bantering with the next fan, Jensen just seems sad? Sad is not the right word but he seems kind of upset 

So the fan makes a small mistake in what she’s asking and Misha laughs  then Jensen turns to look at him for a brief second, it’s literally for a second and Misha looks at him with his big blue eyes but Jensen looks away rather quickly. I think they can both feel the weight of the previous answer Misha gave simmering beneath the surface but they can’t talk about it atm. 

Now Jared says something rather weird to me, “A man who goes to sleep with an itchy butt wakes up with a smelly hand.”   (I know it’s a saying or whatever but it’s just a strange thing to say or maybe it’s just me) Jensen is nodding along to that but Misha doesn’t look amused. I think it’s an interesting thing to say when two of your best friends who play with each other’s butts are seated on stage with you. I’m not sorry I said that because it had to be said.

For a literal microsecond, Misha looks at Jensen but Jensen is looking at a fixed spot on the floor as has become norm in the last 2 minutes. Mish suppresses a smile because he knows Jensen still feels bad about earlier.

Jared says that’s why he thinks the brother’s and Cas have to die in order for the show to end and Jensen’s face is just stoic. Dude wtf?? 

Jensen joins in the banter and makes a joke about a man who stands on a toilet while high on pot he’s not crazy he’s just high? J2 make another joke about a man going backwards to Bangkok or something. Misha manages to laugh at those jokes.

Jared asks Misha  if he has anything to add and Jensen looks at Misha smiling look at the way he’s looking at Misha. It’s like he wants to stuff him in his pocket and take him home with him.

Jensen is laughing so hard now because Misha says that the only sayings that come to mind are the only ones he doesn’t want to say.

They try to pronounce the German word and it’s hilarious AF.

So Jared makes a joke of a sound that the fan is helping them pronounce and Jensen is just done. Completely done because he looks away and scratches his beard like he wants to be anywhere but there. JFC What is going on? He was happy again.

OMG husbands whispering at each other while Jared is engaged with a fan. Gossipy Jensen. Also I’m glad whatever tension was there after the Cas question is finally gone and they are back on track again.

They are in there own little world because IDK what Misha whispered to Jensen but Jensen is unicorn laughing. Aww J

 “We just said some really bad shit” I like it when Jensen curses. Now I want to know what they said because when Misha whispers it to Jared, he laughs really hard as well. Oh to be a tiny ant crawling around, listening to their whispered secrets. A girl can dream am I right?

7.33 Jared asks the fan what her “that German/Austrian word” was that morning and I am inclined to think whatever the husbands were whispering to each other had something to do with a sex-related orifice because of the way Jensen reacts.

The fan puts Jared in his place. Look at Jensen’s reaction.

He’s like you go girl.

Jensen wants to whisper something to Misha so bad but he stops himself.

Okay so Jensen says he did bicycle touring and he did take part in some of the quests. Is he talking about GISHWES because he never can pronounce that word. LOL.

So Jared interrupts Jensen starts telling his story and Jensen just shuts down just look at his face the entire time Jared is telling it.

Misha and Jared are talking about how it’s so hot on stage and Jensen is just miming to the fans how it’s not hot. I love when he does that. Naughty boy.

Misha moans and he and Jared just rush off to point the fan in their direction while Jensen just stands over the fan on his side of the stage and cools his balls off.

OMG!!!! Misha is doing the mating dance while making fiery eye contact with Jensen and sips from the bottle. Jensen heeds his husband’s call to mate and walks briskly in long manly steps to wards him and he takes the drink off his hand while looking at him like he wants to eat him [it’s called a mating dance for a reason] and inhales the drink whatever it is and it must be really strong because he looks away and says something to Jared. Misha walks away says something to Jared and goes to sit down.  Jensen starts twerking his booty. Misha your man wants to mate on stage do something. Anyway Jensen pours the drink that Misha had sipped directly from the bottle in a shot glass  and does the rck on sign and sips it. The entire time Mishalecki are just looking at Nesnej and laughing not understanding what is going on.

Jared sniffs the drink and says “poker face” and Jensen says “thanks Lady Gaga” IDK if this was a snide comment or just banter but now we know Jensen listens to Lady Gaga and Katy Perry (re: jib8).

This part is really funny when the fan thanks Misha for sending a recovery message to her friend but Misha says that  he had no choice but to do it because the fan just held out the phone to Misha and Misha was like “oooh, heeey”

I think Jared asks Misha what happened and Misha explains because Jared folds over laughing.

Jared starts talking before Jensen can answer the question and again Jensen doesn’t look too amused. This guy keeps stealing his thunder.

Jensen manages a smile when he hears that Misha did a German accent 

Misha asks Jensen if he wants some tips on accents and Jensen smiles and says no. Ouch. Sorry Mish, your man doesn’t want your help. He’d rather wing it.

Misha is not backing down and compliments Jensen by listing all the accents that Jensen can do. We love a supportive husband. Hype your man Mish.

Jensen says that he speaks French and he has a little have a  tête-à-tête in français. I find it funny how Misha pretends not to know Jensen speaks French yet he just listed all the accents Jensen can do. Sure Jan.  And after the French interaction which Misha adds a flair of a French accent when he talk as and , Jensen tries really hard  not to smile. Someone’s excited. #accent kink ;)

Jensen says he doesn’t think Michael is going to need an accent and Misha says yes he will in French accent and Jensen is just trying really really hard not to smile.

Look at Jared’s face though he’s like dude are you seriously turned on by Misha’s weird accent right now? It’s not even funny and Jensen can’t stop smiling.

Jensen is done with Misha’s shenanigans so he just cuts him off and Misha is exasperated and Jensen proceeds to ask his question.

Fan says she would improve on Misha’s German accent and Misha gasps scandalized and  even Jensen is not happy about that but he takes this moment to make fun of Misha so the comment doesn’t seem as harsh 

Look at Misha’s face

and here is Jensen’s face  he can’t believe someone was mean to his baby.

Anyway, in an attempt to make it less painful for his man he tries to make and joke and says, “I didn’t send that out with the insult in mind but I’m really glad that happened.” 

The joke makes it worse and Misha  doesn’t seem to feel better. Poor Misha.

It’s over.

Time for the closing ceremony

Jensen and Briana singing.

 Misha and Adam

I love their friendship, makes me think of the possibilities that could’ve been between Cas and Mick on the show.

OMG Jensen you naught boy, yeah I see you have experience humping and spanking. Go on Rockstar we love to see it.

Even Jason Mann’s sees Jensen humping the air and Misha and Jensen turn to look at Jason. Jensen is  smirking at him after what he just did. OMG.

The way Jensen is looking at Rob when Rob tries to sing the remaining verses of carry on my wayward son. Jensen you need apple juice. Jensen is me. He is insane and he is me and I love him. JENSENKIN!!!!

Why are Jensen and Misha gravitating towards each other unconsciously? Do their hearts have magnets that pull towards each other?

Speaking of them why does Jensen seem extremely tall here and Misha looks so tiny.

Am I the only one who doesn’t like the guy who played Ketch? OMG he just rubs me off the wrong way.

 OMG is Jared trying to touch Jensen’s hand? Eww He touched Jensen’s arm and Jensen didn’t even look at him. This is embarrassing. Jensen hasn’t looked at him once/ HELP.

Misha and Jensen are standing the same way at the exact same time and they aren’t even looking at each other. OMG!! This is insanity.

Jensen turns to smile at Misha. Aww J

Jensen looks at Misha with a smile on his face when Daniela says they’ll be back the next year the year that gave us straddle gate and boners.

It’s over guys. 

So I have come to the conclusion that something was going on between Jensen and Jared at jib 9.

See you on the next one.

Part 1

#cockles #jib9 #jibcon 2018 #jib9 cockles panel analysis #j2m