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yyxgin · 3 years

Text

my only hate, my only love (kim seungmin)

pairing: kim seungmin x fem! reader genre: enemies to lovers au, highschool au angst, fluff word count: 11 k requested by: @joons-asscrack warnings: swearing, mentions of broken home

synopsis: A high school Shakespeare club angrily splits into two groups when they can’t agree on the correct interpretation of Romeo and Juliet. One group thinks it’s a cautionary tale about the stupidity of youth and shallow lust; the other group of youth thinks it’s a beautiful tragedy about poisonous hatred conquered by love. Reconciliation seems impossible-- then a person from one group falls in love with a person from the other.

(this dea is not mine !! I found it on pinterest under the tumblr user @/sarah531, however, i looked for the account and couldn’t find it. if you have any idea what the current @ of the owner of this prompt is, please let me know !!)

I actually used a lot of passages from this essay of Romeo and Juliet since I didn’t actually read it, all passages of the characters that talk about the play and are in italics belong to the rightful owner of this essay.

“A glooming peace this morning with it brings. The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head. Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things. Some shall be pardoned, and some punished. For never was a story of more woe than this of Juliet and her Romeo.” your voice resonates in the quiet classroom, your words followed by more silence as you drop to your seat and close the book, placing it onto your table. The reality sinks in as the entirety of your English literature class doesn’t dare to say a word, the moment you finish reading the oh so famous Shakespearen drama making everyone lose themselves in their thoughts.

Your professor looks you in the eye, smiling a little. “So? What did you think about it?” she asks, moving her glasses further up her nose with her pointer finger, gazing onto the few people that actually chose this class as their subject of choice just to get more credit. You liked reading, to be honest. Everything about this class seemed inviting-- there were only a few people there and those that did actually care about the literature itself enough were thoughtful enough to hold a proper conversation with. You actually made friends with a lot of your classmates, your brains working at the same frequency as your shared ex gifted child burnout syndrome draped over your brains way too often after arriving to high school, making you connect on another level as you tried to soothe each other’s nerves and be there for each other. It was no secret that only the biggest of nerds went to the English literature classes, but you were okay with that idea.

You snort out a laugh, raising up your eyebrows in amusement. Your classes were always open for discussions, so you didn’t even have to raise your hand to speak-- one of the perks of being the professor’s favorite. You open your mouth to begin talking, when a voice cuts you off, beginning the discussion instead.

“Well, I think it was pretty,” mumbles a boy from the corner of the room, the only one you didn’t even particularly like in this whole class, making you roll your eyes. It was hard, being in the class of your favorite professor when you had to fight over being her favorite student with Kim Seungmin himself-- the devoted dandy boy, the member of the book club, the student council president. You despised everything about him only from one sole reason-- he was the top of the class. That was enough for you to hate him.

You’re asking why? Well, you were supposed to be the top of the class, of course. And you were, for the main part. You didn’t share any other classes with him, making it easy for you to ignore his existence, but it just so happened that your favorite class also had to be the one where you had to see his face so often.

He was your moral enemy.

“Care to tell us more, Seungmin?” professor Jung asks, motioning for your classmate to continue speaking, to tell her all of his thoughts. You knew Romeo and Juliet must have been her favorite play by the smile on her face, eager to hear all of your reviews and thought processes while reading the piece.

“Well, I think it was quite poetic. Tragic, even. I like the way Shakespeare portrayed the prejudice and ending of a long conflict just with the power of love.” he nods, licking his lips after his bold statement, making you laugh out loud this time.

All the eyes of your classmates turn to you, even your seatmate-- ever so laid-back and chilled out Han Jisung furrows his brows at your sudden outburst. You were never the one to turn attention your way in classes, the sight of you not reddening under the gazes of the people in the room nowhere to be seen surprising even you.

“Is there something funny, Y/N?” asks the professor, calling you by your first name. You liked the way it sounded, cringing at every teacher that called you by your last name as if you were a legal adult with your life figured out. This seemed more friendly-- it seemed kinder, even. You liked the way it made it feel like your professor actually cared about your opinion.

“I think there is, yes,” you nod, giggling to yourself again.

“And what is that?” she seems intrigued, taking a few steps to your desk, listening to what you have to say.

“Well, I think what he said is ridiculous.” you point out, a shock spreading on your professor’s features, making you continue. “The only thing tragic about this whole play is how Shakespere portrayed the fake image of love. I mean, Juliet was only 13, don’t you think it was a bit early to get married to a man? After a day, that is?” you explain, intriguing your classmates even more.

“It was the 16th century. It was normal to get married young back then,” mumbled your enemy, Kim Seungmin from his seat, locking his eyes with you through the classroom.

“Of course I know that,” you ironically smile at him, rolling your eyes in the process and looking back at your professor with a genuine smile this time, explaining more of your point of view, “I think it portrays girls as boy-crazy. Like love is everything they are made of and that they are worthless without a partner-- and that’s why Juliet chose to kill herself. If anything, I think it portrays the stupidity of the youth the most.”

“So you think she was stupid just because she killed herself upon seeing her loved one dead?” Seungmin’s brows are raised now, looking at you as if he was mocking you.

“Well, Romeo did the same thing, so yes. I think it was stupid of them. They were reckless, the whole situation was. How could they know they were in love when this all happened in one day? Nobody can fall in love that quickly.” you mutter, shaking your head in disbelief.

“I think the play portrayed love at first sight beautifully,” grins Seungmin, the teasing smirk on his face bothering you so much you want to wipe it off his face. Is he really that ridiculous?

“There’s no such thing. And what were the families doing, after all? Arguing without even knowing why? For all we know, their ancestors may have hated themselves because they accidentally took their cow and they decided to kill each other for that?” you scoffed, your voice raising increasingly.

“Now that’s ridiculous.” rolls his eyes Seungmin, taking you over the edge, your voice raising with every spoken word.

“Your view of love is ridiculous. If I knew the boy I was eyeing was my family’s enemy, I wouldn’t bat an eye before dropping him, but no, she chose to marry the guy. Did she really have such twisted morals?” you scoff, a part of your class laughing at your outburst.

You hear a few quiet, amused ‘yeah’s and ‘she’s actually right’s from everywhere around you, only flooding your ego more as you recognise that your point of view is shared by more people and you aren’t actually crazy.

“I think love is more important than rivalry.” speaks Seungmin, cocking his head to a side, teasing you just by the look on his face, your eyes scanning his features as you hear a few other comments from your classmates around you. Some girls even go as far as cooing at his romantic statement, making you laugh and roll your eyes at them. Were they all this ridiculous?

“She was thirteen!” you argue, screaming. That is all that takes professor Jung to interfere your heated discussion, clapping her hands in authority, making everyone’s heads snap to her figure standing in front of the classroom with an amused look on her face.

“Looks like we have quite the discussion here,” she points out, seeing your angered face.

“Yeah, because Seungmin’s point of view is stupid!” you grunt, making her point a scolding look into your skull that almost makes you shrink in your seat in embarrassment.

“Y/N, no one’s point of view is stupid. Literature is all about the impertretation,” she states, earning a few nods and hums from your interested classmates, “now, who agrees with Y/N’s interpretation of the play?”

A few hands shoot out into the air, Jisung’s following as you angrily nudge him into his side, making you grin. No way your friend is going to support your moral enemy’s idea-- he was your friend, after all. Something inside of you is telling you that this whole feud wasn’t only about the play anymore,. You were fighting with Kim Seungmin, and that was enough to keep you standing by your point.

“And who agrees with Seungmin’s interpretation?” she asks again, searching through the classroom. It seems like the amount of people that agree with your classmate is about the same as the amount of people that agree with you, making you annoyingly roll your eyes at the realisation that you once again didn’t manage to outpower your moral enemy.

“I see the classroom has split into two teams,” she grins, nodding her head, “well, I did think you were going to have different opinions on this, but I didn’t think it was going to get so heated over here.” she points out, switching her gaze from you to Seungmin and back, as if to scold you and support you with your antics all at once.

“Yeah, well, it’s not my fault Y/N can’t appreciate one of the most important pieces of English literature-”

“I’m all about supporting, if it was actually good and meaningful-”

“Stop it, you two!” she scolds you, making both of you shut up and finally provide some silence in the room. “Well, since you all look like you have different opinions on the topic, let’s try a fun experiment. I was going to make you all write an essay on the play by yourselves, just like we usually do, but I think this is going to be much more fun for all of us.” she states, smiling to herself like a happy child on Christmas. You wonder what’s racing through her head as she searches through the classroom, locking eyes with you, then continuing.

“I want you all to write an essay and do a presentation on Romeo and Juliet-- you can write about anything, whether it is your ideas, what you took from the play, what is your view-point on it. But you have to write it with the person who has the exact opposite opinion on this play. So this way, we can get the story from two points of view. Let’s see what you agree on, what you don’t, make it a discussion, I don’t care, just make it make sense. Do you understand me?” she smiles and you swear you can already feel what is going on before she says it, making your head hurt and breath hitch in your throat.

“And since Seungmin and Y/N seem to have the most different opinions on this, I am picking them as a pair-- no, there’s no way for the two of you to change.” she says before you can even open your mouth to argue back, leaving you to stand up from your seat just at the time when the bell rings.

“But miss Jung-”

“I want it done until the end of this month.” she smiles, taking her things and leaving the classroom, letting the thought sink in. You lunge yourself back to your seat, defeated and left to process the fact that you now had two weeks to work on a project with Kim Seungmin-- your biggest enemy.

A sigh escapes your seatmate’s mouth upon the scene, running his hand through his hair in frustration. “That’s what you get for always picking fights with him.”

That’s how you end up in a coffee shop two blocks away from your house. You didn’t exactly ask for Kim Seungmin’s number-- you weren’t in the 2000s anymore-- you swiftly added him on Facebook in order to get this over with so you wouldn’t have to meet with him anymore. Yes, you were mad at Mrs Jung for pairing you up with him, but you still adored her and wanted to do well, so that’s why you chose to do what you had to and arranged a meeting with him.

Kim Seungmin appears in the coffee shop in his usual cozy demeanour-- oversized sweater and everything, with a backpack hanging off his shoulder and a serious look plastered on his face. He places his copy of Romeo and Juliet onto the table and sits his figure into the chair right in front of you, sighing heavily as he stares at you from under his eyelashes, voice low and defeated.

“Hi.” he greets, resting his back against the head of the chair, waiting for you to take initiative. You were the one who arranged this whole thing in the first place, so it was kind of your responsibility now in his books.

“Hello,” you cleared your throat. You felt like you were sitting there with the devil himself, just begging yourself in your head not to explode like a raging volcano with every movement he made that always somehow ended up irritating you. It was like his aura was everything you despised-- his collected way of discussing and his calm way of thinking getting on your nerves with every sigh he sent your way.

“So… how do you wanna go around this?” he asks, raising his eyebrows at you in question.

You sigh back at him just to show him how annoyed you are by your professor’s choice of your partner, bringing your hands to rest them on the table and cracking your knuckles in nerves. You didn’t meet his eyes, you felt too intimidated to do so in the moment, before you spoke up and managed to get your point across.

“Well, since we have to gather both of our viewpoints in the essay, I think we could just start of by telling the other one what topics we want to talk about so the other one can debunk them.” you mumble, suddenly feeling nervous by the possibility of your idea being rejected. If you could disappear on the spot, believe me, you would.

Seungmin hums from his seat, nodding. “Seems reasonable.”

You try your hardest not to let out a relieved sigh, nodding back at him. “I brought some notes.”

You did some preparation for this. Well, a lot of preparation. There was no way Kim Seungmin could catch you unprepared at your study meeting. You wanted to prove to him that you were worth so much more than sharing your grade with him and if he had any snarky or teasing remark, you best believe you mastered up a response just as spiteful, if not more than what could possibly leave his lips in the moment. You weren’t here to embarrass yourself. You were here to look smart. Smarter than Kim Seungmin.

“Perfect.” he just mutters, taking the sheet of paper you were offering to him from your hand, placing it on the table in front of him and skimming his eyes through the lines of text you scribbled down yesterday evening.

The silence makes your palms sweat. It makes you nervously bite down on your lower lip. You felt embarrassing-- you were never the conservative type. All this time, you used to hate your classmate from afar. You never actually spoke to each other, all you did to express your hatred for the boy was in the way you always rolled your eyes when he spoke up in class, or you sighed when Mrs Jung was complimenting him in front of everyone, making sure he heard you. You don’t know what broke in you that day-- you were quite the shy type, to be honest. You didn’t like to be the centre of attention. What were you even thinking by all of this?

“I don’t think we should mention their age as an argument,” he says, finally meeting eyes with you.

“Why?” you ask, dumbfounded.

“Because as I already said, it was long ago. People used to marry young.” he shrugs, offering the sheet of paper back to you with a judging look on his face.

“Okay and? My point still stands. They were too young and reckless.”

“I also don’t think we should talk about the sex part.” he concludes, landing his hands into his lap.

“Why? Because it’s controversial?” you teasingly grin at him, waiting for his response.

“No. Because it clearly brings nothing to the table about our arguments. It doesn’t even really play a big role in the whole thing, so I think it’s useless to mention,” he shrugs, looking at your face. It felt like his eyes were studying you, judging you. It was hard to keep eye contact with him-- so you didn’t. You averted your gaze out of the window, opting to watch the passer-bys instead.

You sigh, waiting for him to say something against your notes again. Of course you could expect this-- there was no way Kim Seungmin would agree with anything you’re trying to say in the matter at all.

“And the point about Rosaline is a little over the line as well…”

“What do you want me to put in the essay if you’re just going to tell me it’s unreasonable and over the line, huh?” you voice out, pinning your eyes onto his shocked figure, “it’s supposed to be an essay on everything I didn’t like about it, so that’s what I’m going to put in it and your job is to comment on my arguments. Just like my job is to comment on what you loved about this piece of shit of a play, and that’s what I’m going to do, so fuck off.” you growled, standing up and taking your things with you, too frustrated and hot-headed to continue the discussion.

Only Kim Seungmin could make you this mad and you hated him for it even more.

You hear your door open, revealing your mum standing in the doorway with a mug of hot tea and a soft smile playing with her features. You sigh, playing with your pen in your hand, waiting for her to say what she needs to say and leave so you could have some silence to finally work.

“Sweetie, you should really relax for a while. You’ve been studying for the whole day…” she mumbles, taking the tea to your desk and running a hand through your hair. You fight off the urge to pull away from her, knowing damn well it would hurt her feelings, so you just opt to nod at her face and faking a smile.

“Yeah, sure, mum.” you respond, but make no effort in getting up from your chair and moving to your bed. It was already late in the night and your mum was wearing her pyjamas, signaling that she was going to sleep. She always went to sleep early, because she needed to wake up in the early hours of the day to go to work, but you usually didn’t go to sleep earlier than midnight anyway-- homework was taking you too much time sometimes.

“I mean it. You’re doing great job in school, sweetie, but you have to lay off for a while or else you’ll overwork yourself.” she says affectionately, making you grunt on the inside.

“Okay, okay, go to sleep now, good night mum…” you mumble, waiting for her to finally leave you alone.

“Are you telling me to go away?” she asks with a hint of laugh in her voice that you know for a fact is fake, because the expression on her face looks hurt. You hate to see that face, because it makes you feel guilty, but you really can’t help yourself sometimes.

“No.” you mutter, shaking your head.

She just stares at you for a while, biting down on her lower lip, before she hangs her head low and sighs out. She turns around, taking a few steps to your door, turning around only for a moment when she stands in the doorway and whispers a quiet ‘good night’ at you, closing the door behind her and disappearing into her bedroom.

You feel a sense of relief coming over you. Of course you weren’t going to sleep yet, but she didn’t have to know that. She didn’t have to know a lot of things.

The small, old copy of Romeo and Juliet falls into your eyes in the corner of your desk. You had to borrow your book from the library and you hated how some pages were torn and the ink was so old it was hard to read sometimes, but you couldn’t afford to buy yourself one, because you were saving up for college and every cent counts in your household.

You take it into your hands, reading over the passages you bookmarked when you were first reading the book, wanting to refresh your memory with the lines that stood up to you and made you snort at how ridiculous the book truly was again before typing them down into the document you had opened in front of you.

“Love is heavy and light, bright and dark, hot and cold, sick and healthy, asleep and awake- it’s everything except what it is!” it says. You run your fingers along the words, the curves of the ink cutting you like a knife. Love is all of these things-- it’s terrifying and it’s unpredictable. It sounds scary in your ears and you’ve seen it right in front of your eyes- love is everything except what it is.

Love isn’t heavy and light, bright and dark, hot and cold. Love isn’t sick and healthy. Love is pain. It takes everything you have, it ties you down, it makes you do things you would never do if you weren’t in love. It intoxicates you and makes you make bad decisions. When you love, you’re irresponsible. You’re like a storm.

Your mum and your dad were in love. Or, your mum always told you they were.

So if your mum and your dad were in love, they were supposed to be together through the heavy and the light. Through the bright and through the dark. Through sick and healthy. They were supposed to be there for each other.

They were both really young when they fell in love. You understand-- they were reckless and they were stupid.

But did your father really have to leave you?

Love is nothing from the above. Love is sick and love is just a play. It would be stupid to be hung up on that idea that Kim Seungmin so desperately wanted to believe in.

“So, how far did you get with the essay?” asks Jisung on your lunch break, looking at you with expectation. You told him about your planned meeting with Seungmin, but you didn’t get around to telling him just how it went yet.

“Oh, that…” you mumble, letting out a dry chuckle, “well, he told me my ideas are stupid, so I’m just going to write it by myself and send it to him so he can add his points into it.” you shrugged, taking a bite from your sandwich, stuffing your cheeks with the food so you didn’t have to explain any further.

Jisung sighs in front of you, rolling his eyes like every time you gush about Seungmin and how he gets on your nerves. “Can you lay off that Anne and Gilbert attitude already?”

“Stop saying that, that’s disgusting,” you scrunch up your nose, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Well, it looks like you two are doing a whole 21st century remake right in front of our eyes, though,” chuckles Jisung, teasing you further, “with that whole top of the class students that hate each other and act like children just because they don’t agree on something. It’s only a matter of time before you fall in love.”

“Ew,” you fake a gag, rolling your eyes at him, “that is so not happening.”

“Yeah, sure, tell me about it at your wedding in a few years.” he mutters.

“I am not getting married in my whole life, marriage is wack,” you roll your eyes at him for the millionth time, the gesture so familiar to you over the past few days. Everything seems to annoy you recently. Maybe you were just going through a bad patch, who knows?

“Oh would you look at that, Y/N’s acting like a Grinch again,” giggles Jisung, ruffling your hair in the process just to annoy you even more, making you pull away abruptly from his touch.

“That doesn’t even make any sense! Grinch hates Christmas, not fake images of love.” you argue back, finishing your sandwich and rolling the plastic that was covering it into a little ball, throwing it into his face to shut him up.

“Yeah, sure.” he snorts, throwing the ball back at you. You catch it in your hands with a promise to yourself to throw it out when exiting the cafeteria later, when you feel a light tap on your shoulder that makes you turn around.

The sight in front of you makes you shoot your eyebrows up in shock, leaving you flustered and surprised. “What do you want?”

“I just wanted to ask when we can hang out again to work on that essay, since it’s, you know, like half of our final grade…” mutters Seungmin, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly and pointing his eyes at you, casually waiting for your answer.

“Oh, we’re not meeting again. I’m just going to email you the file when I’m done.” you shrug.

“But that’s unfair to me?” he offers, eyebrows shooting up and his hand falling to his side.

“Why would it be?”

“That gives me less time to work on it, you know. And you have to add your comments to my work anyways, so it would mean you’ll have to write those at the last-minute.” Seungmin explains, his tone of voice calm and collected, just as always, after all, making you roll your eyes and fume up again.

“I don’t really care,” you shrug, smiling ironically at his face.

“Why- what?” he asks, looking genuinely concerned and confused, eyebrows scrunching up and his voice raising a little by an octave.

You don’t answer him, though. You’ve had enough of his snarky comments and remarks in the coffee shop-- you weren’t going to meet up with Kim Seungmin again, even if it meant the possibility of getting a bad grade from your most favorite and treasured subject.

After the boy is met with silence, all he does is scoff at you, shooting his arms up into the air and shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re such a fucking child, oh my god.”

And with that, he strides off, your eyes following his every move to make sure he doesn’t come near you again. His steps are quick and angry, and this is actually the first time you’ve seen him get so frustrated with something. You take pride in getting him over the edge. You were finally even. He doesn’t look back once and you think you finally made it.

“Stop staring, Anne.” you hear from your friend sitting right in front of you, making you break away from your bubble and taking a look at him, seeing him amused and with a teasing grin plastered on his face.

“Fuck off.”

“Peace? I hate the word as I hate hell and all Montagues.” Mrs Jung reads out, when you start dozing off in the class. You’ve read the play a lot of times already, making you feel bored even by the repetitiveness of your class. You understand that she is just waiting for all of you to turn in your papers, not wanting to move on from Romeo and Juliet just yet, but you find yourself slowly falling asleep under the spell of her voice and the fact that you spent the whole night studying again. The sentence startles you awake, making you chuckle to yourself.

‘Peace? I hate the word as I hate hell and Kim Seungmin himself,’ you think. If Han Jisung could read minds, he would be surely teasing you with another smart remark of how much energy you’re spending by hating the poor boy and how it’s not possible for you to not fall in love with him soon after how much time he spends in your mind, but Han Jiung can’t read minds. And even if he could, you’d just tell him to fuck off. Because he is wrong.

“Am I boring you, Y/N?” asks Mrs Jung, fully startling you awake as you straighten your back and properly sit on your uncomfortable chair again.

“Of course not!” you call out, blinking rapidly to keep your eyes from closing on themselves again.

“Oh, I thought I was, by how tired you seem by listening to me.” she just smiles at you, then continues talking and looks at the other students in your class, leaving you to blush to yourself without giving you more attention.

You chew on the inside of your cheek, looking around the classroom. You feel embarrassed. You really didn’t mean to give your favorite professor the wrong idea-- you just got to bed really, really late yesterday. It happened often, but you guess that it just took a bigger stroll on you today.

Your eyes meet the orbs of your moral enemy, that just gazes into you with intensity. You quickly look away. Why is he doing that? His eyes look worried. He’s not supposed to look at you in such a way-- he’s supposed to laugh at how you’ve just been scolded. He just won a few points to himself by paying more attention than you, he just got on the better side with your favorite professor, yet he doesn’t look like he’s enjoying it at all.

A small piece of paper catches your interest from the corner of your eye. You read through it, recognising the loopy handwriting of your seat-mate.

did you stay up late studying again?

You sigh, taking a pen out of your pencil case and neatly writing under it, trying not to get caught by Mrs Jung. You really don’t want to get scolded for the second time today.

yeah

you should probably relax a little, your grades are already good to begin with

You roll your eyes at the note. Of course he’d say something like that. In elementary school, your grades were good without even trying. All you had to do was pay attention in class and write what you could remember, but now, in high school, everything is a little harder for you and you suddenly weren't good enough anymore. And yeah, you could say that grades don’t even matter that much, but for you, they meant everything.

yeah that’s bc i study jisung

now you’re falling asleep tho how is that helping

You don’t answer him. It’s not that he’s wrong. It’s just that… you’re not going to tell him that he is. Yes, you falling asleep wasn’t helping you in the tiniest, because the less you pay attention in class, the more you have to study at home, and the more you study, the less you sleep, which means you’re going to fall asleep in class the next day and it’s just an endless cycle.

sorry :( but just remember that grades aren’t everything Anne you can get an F once in a while

thanks

You write. But you don’t really mean it.

Because if you get an F, you’re not going to be the top of the class anymore.

And how will you get a scholarship if you’re not?

You arrive to the library, sighing to yourself as you quickly take your coat off and smile to Mrs Kim, the older librarian that let you work here part-time for the time being. You didn’t get paid much, but you loved the job. For the most part, it was easy-- there weren’t many people coming to libraries these days anymore and you could just stay behind the counter, occasionally letting people borrow books and writing them into the evidence. You had a lot of time to study there as well, it was silent and calm. Sometimes, you felt like your heart could rest a little in the small place.

“I’m sorry for coming late Mrs Kim, but the bus was late so I couldn’t get here sooner-” you rush out out of breath, dropping your backpack under the counter, ready to change seats with your employer that was done with her shift for the day.

“It’s totally okay, sweetheart, you know there’s no rush.” she smiles at you, reassuring your nerves with the gesture. You were glad you had such caring people around you. You met with Mrs Kim more than you did with your own mother-- it was strange, but comforting to know that at least someone close to a parental figure was still in your life.

Maybe you just hung yourself into older, reliable people because you lost the security you had in your own mother. Or because you didn’t even have a father to begin with. You don’t know if you’re doing the right thing, but in your heart, it surely feels like you are.

You nod at her, seeing her leave and wave at you as she takes her things with her before you’re left alone with your thoughts. You sit yourself on the chair, looking around for a moment, before you take out your notes and start working on your homework. The library felt like a safe space-- not that you didn’t have the silence and comfort at your own home, since you were home alone all the time anyway-- but here, at least you felt like there was a reason behind your loneliness. You were at work, after all.

You wonder if things would have been different for your mum if she didn’t have you so young. Maybe she would still be happy with your dad-- maybe she wouldn’t have to work a lot just to get you through life. It’s not easy, raising a child on your own when you are a child still, you realise that. And your mother does a good job-- at least you think she is-- but sometimes, you wish your life would be different.

You curse at your mother for being so reckless when she was young. If you’d be born later, she’d finish school. Give you a better life. Maybe, you would even have a father. You would be a little happy family, going on vacations and enjoying your lives.

Now, you’re stuck with trying your hardest to be the best at everything. To have your life figured out, because at your age, your mum surely didn’t. You know you shouldn’t blame her-- you need two people to create a child, but there was no other person for you to blame.

You try your hardest to get a scholarship, because you can’t pay for college on your own. You work so your mother doesn’t have to stay at her job over-night so often just to pay the bills. You educate yourself to be smart and successful-- because that will surely change your life for the better, right?

Suddenly, you hear the bell above the door of the library ring, startling you away from your thoughts. You look that way with a polite smile on your face you’ve taught yourself while working at customer service, ready to greet the customer with fake enthusiasm, when your mouth hangs open without a word. Startled would be an understatement to the feeling you feel at the moment.

“Hello,” the person greets politely, looking at you momentarily before going up to the counter with a stack of books in his hands. He looks up after placing them on the surface and that’s the moment when you see he realises your presence fully-- after seeing his face fall into shock.

“Good afternoon,” you grunt ironically, taking the books closer to yourself so you can check them in, recognising his eyes following your every move from the corner of your eye, “your ID?” you raise up your eyebrows at him, annoyance apparent in your features.

“Oh, right,” he catches himself, quickly patting every pocket of his clothing, until he puts up his hand into his backpack and browses through his wallet, slender fingers offering you the little card so you can scan the code.

The computer freezes for a bit and you curse to yourself-- did it really have to happen now? With Kim Seungmin watching you like an alien? The computer at your local library wasn’t the newest, per say. It didn’t even have to be, your usual customers were just as old, if not even older than that piece of machinery, they didn’t mind waiting. But now wasn’t the time for the computer to freeze. You feel yourself losing your nerves, bouncing your leg up and down, angrily glaring at the screen.

A minute passes, than another-- could it even get worse than this?

“So,” clears his throat Seungmin, making you snap your head up to meet his gaze, “what’s up?” he asks, shocking you again.

“Why do you care?” you snap, glaring at him instead. How dare he act so casually after saying all those mean things to you? You couldn’t believe your ears.

“Because you’re my classmate…?” he furrows his brows, tone of voice cautious, sounding like a question instead.

“And?” you ask, watching the screen of the computer instead, cursing at the new electronic system Mrs Kim decided to install. It would have been so much easier if you could just scribble down your signature on a small piece of paper and take the books like you used to do before, but no, she was all about innovation.

“And I thought we were civil enough for a casual conversation,” he rambles, making you snort in disbelief.

“Oh, we are anything but civil.” you respond, losing your nerves, taking your hand and angrily hitting the top of the screen, as if it was supposed to make the computer work. You violently curse under your breath, hitting it a few times, each one more lightly, until the program starts to work, finally registering the books back into the library evidence.

“Why do you even hate me so much?” he asks after you stop, looking at you with annoyed eyes and a look worthy of an oscar-winning actor. He didn’t care, you knew that, but he sure looked like he did.

You just scoff at him, shaking your head.

“Goodbye,” is all you offer him, his library ID in your hand, before he takes it and rolls his eyes at you again, like many times before. With that, he leaves-- just like you wanted him to-- and you can finally relax.

You sigh out, taking a seat on your chair again, angirly shutting your textbooks close and grunting under your breath. You put your head into your hands, resting them on the table, breathing heavily. You won’t even be able to study now, and it’s all thanks to him.

Why do you even hate him so much?

Kim Seungmin is an interesting individual. As you continue to work in the library the next week, you meet him there every single day. You don’t even have the energy to bark at him anymore-- he slid into your life like a gum stuck to the bottom of your shoe. Always there, but you never get used to it and it’s still annoying when you walk around.

Kim Seungmin is your moral enemy, as we already established. He comes into the library every day and you’re convinced it’s just because he wants to piss you off, but you don’t give him the satisfaction of letting him rile you up anymore. You just silently glare at him and sigh when the timing feels right to show him how much you actually still hate his presence.

He comes back one day while you’re working on your essay, sitting at the table with furrowed eyebrows and the end of your pen trapped between your teeth. The copy of the play is sitting open right in front of you and his eyes fall into it, recognising the underlined replicas and words. You didn’t work on that essay together ever since your first meeting and the due date was nearing, all he wanted to do was review it with you to at least know what he was getting into.

“Can you even read all of these books in a day when you keep coming back for more every time?” you grumpily mumble as you check back the books you, as the librarian, let him borrow yesterday. They are quite thin, but still, you doubt he was so quick to read all of them in a single afternoon.

“Why do you care?” he asks, snickering to himself. Of course, here he is-- annoying every single cell and fiber of your body again.

“Oh, trust me, I don’t. It’s just getting a little annoying.” you ironically smile at him, sitting back to your chair as you finish lending him the new stash of books. You’re not even sure where he got all of these from, since they don’t even look that interesting, but you choose not to think about it any longer as you get back to your essay, scribbling onto the lined paper.

“I like what you’ve written so far,” he says, startling you. You thought he left already-- I mean, why would he even stay? But he didn’t and he was standing right in front of you, eyes skimming over your messy handwriting.

“No you don’t. You’re arguing against me.” you snap back, darting your eyes to him, seeing him sigh.

“Whatever,” he shakes his head, “I was just wondering when you’re going to finally stop being so childish so we can work on that project together, you know.”

“I’m not childish-”

“Stop arguing with me for once, for god’s sake!” he rushes out, throwing his arms in the air in nerves, huffing out in frustration. “Look, I’ll be here tomorrow. The same time. I’ll bring my things and if you still don’t let me work with you, I won’t write anything and we’ll get a bad grade together. Take it or leave it.”

And with that, he is gone.

Fuck Kim Seungmin.

Turns out your enemy is a man of his word.

He truly does show up the next day-- with his backpack slung on his shoulder, cute big glasses sitting on his nose and a stack of papers in his hands. He raises his brows at you upon arriving and you just let out a defeated sigh.

You put a lot of thought into this yesterday evening. Did you hate Kim Seungmin? Of course you did. Was he really annoying? Yes. But were you going to get a bad grade just because of that? Not a chance.

And so you choose to give up on the small war and let him sit in front of you, you let him casually ask you questions about the essay and surprisingly, you answer. It is kind of easy, working with a partner on the same exact level as you, because, and now, don’t get me wrong, you love your classmates, but it seemed like you did all the work all the time. It was nice to have somebody by your side that actually managed to do something and took his part responsibly.

“So, since we’re not just gonna go there and argue right from the start, I wrote a little something about William Shakespeare and his background as well in the introduction, I actually didn’t get around to writing the introduction to the play itself, but-”

“Oh that’s fine, I have it done. We can just stick that in there,” he smiles at you warmly, taking you by a surprise.

You’ve never seen Kim Seungmin smile at you. It was strange to act so friendly around him. Perhaps you were really losing your mind while studying so much.

“Perfect.” you nod, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“I also have the general storyline written down so you don’t have to do that…” he mumbles, looking away for a while when your eyes meet. Is this supposed to be so awkward?

“Nice.” you opt to simply reply in your usual cold nature, nodding.

“Can you tell me which topics you wrote about? So I know if I need to write my part about more things…” he takes the initiative again and you’re actually kind of glad, because that means you don’t have to think of the schedule of your little meeting anymore.

“Oh, right,” you say, shuffling around in your papers, “um… I just wrote about the age aspect, how reckless their love was, the image of love itself in the play, I also wrote about how meaningless the rivalry was…” you mumble, averting your eyes to the blue ink on the paper.

“Awesome, so we have all of that done… except from the love thing. Okay, I’ll write it next time I come around, since I have tutoring in a few,” he smiles, standing up from the chair, taking all of his things with him.

“Next time?”

“Yeah, well, we still have to finish it. You’ll be here on Tuesday, right? Since the class is on Thursday, so we can have time for the finishing touches.” he proposes, leaving you staring at him, startled.

“O...kay,” you nod, watching him leave.

“Perfect! I’ll see you around, bye!” he cheers, escaping the library that now feels so much hotter than before, leaving you all alone. You notice his tall figure rushing the other way of the library, watching it until it disappears completely out of your sight.

You notice how hot your cheeks are, bringing a hand to rest against the burning surface, taking deep breaths to somehow calm down the racing heart you are only recognising now, that he’s gone.

You still have a lot of work to do before Tuesday-- one of your tasks, it seems, is to try to not fall for his friendly nature and welcoming smile. Because perhaps, he was right all along-- why do you even hate him so much?

Kim Seungmin has always been your moral enemy-- you despised everything about him, from the way he was always so calm and collected, so sweet and caring, so smart and thoughtful. You despised his composure. You despised the way he always somehow managed to make friends with everyone around him no matter who the person was.

He was everything you weren’t. You were just the quiet kid from a broken family that always had to look after herself. You were the kid that had to keep on trying to be the best one, because your mind didn’t let you accept the second place.

Yet now, that Kim Seungmin is sitting right in front of you with a sweet smile plastered onto his features and a stack of notes in his hands, making your heart race with his every move, you start to quietly doubt your silent hatred for the boy.

He makes it so easy to be likeable. You’re jealous of him.

“Okay, so, do you want to start reading? I think it might help us to have a run down before presenting this on Thursday,” he asks you, leaving you to take a deep breath in, nodding to yourself.

You skip the introduction bits-- both of you know a little too much about the play and its author already, you have no reason to be reading those parts out loud. Something inside of you starts shaking at the thought of presenting your work to him. You were never really good with presentations, your quiet nature leaving you getting hot in the cheeks and stammering every time you had to read in front of the class, but now, it feels even worse with the boy staring at you, listening to everything you have to say.

“They say Romeo and Juliet describe a love that surpasses all boundaries, but a close reading of the play suggests the lovers’ feelings are more complicated than pure love. If we look, we can find plenty of evidence that Romeo and Juliet’s love for one another is, at least initially, immature. Romeo begins the play claiming to be passionately in love with another woman, Rosaline. When he sees Juliet, he abandons Rosaline before he has even spoken to his new love, which suggests that his feelings for both women are superficial. Juliet, meanwhile, seems to be motivated by defying her parents. She is unenthusiastic about her parents’ choice of husband for her, and at the party where she is supposed to meet Paris, she instead kisses Romeo after exchanging just fourteen lines of dialogue with him. When Romeo returns to see Juliet, she is focused on marriage. For Juliet, part of the appeal of marriage is that it will free her from her parents: ‘I’ll no longer be a Capulet’,” you read out quietly. The room is silent, you can even hear the passing cars outside of the window, but Seungmin says nothing. You pay a daring look to him, finding him focused on your face, which makes you shakily drift your eyes back, reading some more so you can distract yourself.

“Marriage is, also, another great aspect of the story-- Juliet is only 13 in the play and even though we can argue and say that historically, she was of age to get married, I still think it is irresponsible to marry so young and so quickly. It brings a bad view of reckless love to young readers that are forced to read the play while growing up.” you continue, hearing Seungmin smirk from the other side of the table.

“‘With love’s light wings did I o’erperch these walls, for stony limits cannot hold love out’, Romeo says, however, to Juliet, all of the freedom she gets from love sparks in the idea of leaving her parents so she can have sex.” you read out, hearing Seungmin finally burst out laughing.

You stop reading, looking up to him with questioning eyes.

“Why are you so dramatic about all of it anyway?” he asks you, making you furrow your brows in confusion.

“What do you mean dramatic? I was supposed to write about my own view of it, so I did just that. You don’t have to laugh at me for it,” you shake your head, kind of feeling pathetic for the way your heart is racing. The thing is, and you know it sounds ridiculous, you actually feel kind of hurt by the sound of his laughter.

“I understand that, but why do you keep bashing the author for writing it like that? It’s like you don’t even believe in love, all you did was criticise all of the ideas he had. And so what if they were young and reckless? They were still in love, you know?” he rambles, making your blood boil again.

“You can’t just ignore all of it because it was in history. I don’t think it’s normal to marry so young and to claim you are in love so quickly, because you know what? If they survived, they would make a child. And then, they would realise how they fucked up their own life and Romeo would run away from her with a snap of his finger, because that’s what young, immature boys do. And then-” you raise your voice, not even realising how heated you got with the argument as you continue to ramble. The vision of your own parents and your own story is slowly eating you all up from the inside, when suddenly, Seungmin cuts you off again with a laugh.

“But you don’t know that. It’s not even in the play and your conspiracies are just… pathetic, really,” he shrugs, taking in your distressed state.

Pathetic conspiracies. Is this what he called your life?

“Leave.” you say, breathing heavy.

“What? We didn’t even-”

“You criticize everything I write, not even recognising that maybe I do have a reason for feeling like this and maybe I really do not want to idolise young, immature love when I know just how much damage it can make, so please, for the love of god, Kim Seungmin, leave me alone!” you yell out, standing up from your chair and pointing to the door.

“Y/N-”

“I said get out!” you scream. His deep eyes stare at you for a few minutes, startled, before he hurriedly takes his things and leaves through the front door.

Once you’re finally alone again, you sigh heavily and put your head into your hands. You feel your eyes burning, trying to desperately blink away the stupid tears filling your saddened orbs, but it’s no use as you see a few teadrops fall onto the opened copy of Romeo and Juliet on the table.

‘It’s easy for someone to joke about scars if they’ve never been cut.’, it says.

Maybe you were fooling yourself when you thought Kim Seungmin will no longer be your enemy after all of this.

10.

You raise up to your feet when Mrs Jung calls on you on Friday. You already know what’s going to happen-- you’d been preparing yourself for this moment for the past two long, miserable days. You hadn’t spoken to Seungmin since that day in the library and frankly, you feel like after all of this, you have nothing to say to him. You feel like all energy has been sucked out of you, like you are just a walking cage without a soul just ready for this whole project to be over.

You scan the faces of your classmates, most of them looking interested by your essay. They must be expecting drama, an outburst of emotions as you listen to Seungmin’s words, but you won’t give them the satisfaction today. You’re just going to do your part-- you’re going to read out what you have to say and that’s where it ends. You’re not wasting your energy on Kim Seungmin anymore. It’s not worth your time at all.

So you start, just like that time in the library. You make all your points, you mention all of the topics you wanted to discuss. You throw it right in front of their faces, silently confessing to them all of your deepest secrets and insecurities, because the truth is, you wouldn’t feel so strongly about the play if it didn’t affect you as much.

And when you’re done, you let your rival speak. You listen to him with curiosity, it doesn’t matter how much you’re trying to convince yourself you don’t actually care. His words flow into your ears and fill your mind with thoughts, every single one of them dedicated to his neat handwriting and his brain full of mysteries he is currently uncovering right in front of you.

“To be honest, Y/N’s words made me think. They made me think too hard. They made me question if my point of view was actually as correct as I thought it was. You see, Y/N is a smart girl. No one can deny that. Perhaps that is what made me doubt my own words so much in the first place,” he starts, looking you directly in the eye, but quickly averting his eyes to the small group of people in the classroom instead, “but still, even though there are some points of her essay that I agree with-- like the age aspect, even though historically, it could be meaningless, as well as the way their marriage comes too fast, there are still things I strongly disagree on.”

He takes a deep breath, shuffling the papers in his hands until he finds the right one, and starts speaking again. “Y/N says their love isn’t as pure as it seems to be. With Romeo abandoning Rosaline and with Juliet desperately wanting to break away from her parents, it may seem that way. However, I think that yet, while the two characters may have initially fell for each other due to a mixture of convenience and lust, Romeo and Juliet’s language shows their passion maturing into real love,” he says, taking a short look at you that makes your insides burn in flames, “In their first meeting, they compose a sonnet together using the religious language of pilgrimage. They both start using astrological language to describe their love. As their relationship develops, they use less rhyme, which has the effect of making their language feel less artificial. These changes in the lovers’ language show that they are growing together. They are growing to care more deeply for each other, they are growing into a feeling of love they have for each other.”

“Another thing I disagree with Y/N on is her image of love. ‘Is love a tender thing? It is too rough, too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn,’ she quotes. Romeo asks his friend, Mercutio, this question when he feels hurt by his love. Yet, as I already mentioned, in my opinion, love is growing. And growing is a journey-- in every journey, there is going to be some pain,” he looks at you again, as if to tell you that his words aren’t meant for the class, but for you and your ears only. It doesn’t look like he’s arguing with you anymore--he is simply telling you what’s on his mind. What he believes in.

“In theory, I think love is beautiful. I understand the pain and I understand the journey. And with me saying I disagree, I’m not saying Y/N’s opinion is wrong. It’s simply what she believes in,” he nods his head, locking his eyes with Mrs Jung, “but perhaps, it’s the romantic in me that believes that the image of love portrayed in this book was, in fact, beautiful.”

He clears his throat, looking at you again, but this time, his eyes don’t drift to the papers in his hand, rather speaking from his memory instead of reading out the things he had written down. “‘The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars as daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven would through the airy region stream so bright that birds would sing, and think it were not night.’ Isn’t that beautiful?” he averts his eyes to the class, smiling to himself and looking to the ground.

Somehow, his words feel heavy on you. Like they hold the weight of the world, like what he said wasn’t just to prove a point to you. Perhaps Kim Seungmin saw through the hurt you feel-- perhaps he tried to understand. Maybe, he even tried to make you feel better.

Somehow, his words feel like a confession. His ending ment of saying ‘thank you for your time’ goes unnoticed in your brain, everything turning blurry as the bell rings just as your presentation ends, your brain, eyes-- your whole being focused on Kim Seungmin and the way his voice recitated the words with such passion in his heart.

“‘And where two raging fires meet together, they do consume the thing that feeds their fury,’” the voice of your English literature teacher cuts through your senses like a knife, the smile on her face bringing you back to reality, “Good job, you two.”

11.

A kick in a face wouldn’t hit you harder than seeing Kim Seungmin appear in the library the next day. You aren’t prepared to see him, not when all you’ve been thinking of the last night without being able to fall asleep were his words, his mind and his face. You saw him every time you closed your eyes-- it was like he suddenly imprinted himself into your brain. It was crazy. You felt crazy.

Romeo and Juliet fell in love at first sight. Romeo and Juliet got married the next day.

How much time did it take you to fall in love with Kim Seungmin?

Suddenly, you have no idea. And what makes it all worse is the fact that somehow, it all makes sense in your eyes. Maybe Jisung was right when he told you that giving so much energy into hating the boy would somehow make you end up like the 21st century replica of Anne of the Green Gables and Gilbert Blythe.

“Hello,” he breathes out, the corners of his mouth slightly curving up before he bites the nervous smile down, chewing on his bottom lip.

“Hi,” you shyly greet him, noticing the book in his hands alongside with the library card, taking it from his reached-out hand. You recognise the book way too well, the hard covers a little dusty and the spine damaged from the amount of people that had borrowed this book from the library before.

You take the copy of Romeo and Juliet and place it on the table, registering it back into the database. It feels like a chapter of your life is ending. It seems like forever since you’ve been assigned the project, but in a way, you know that nothing will ever be the same.

You kept thinking of his words in the night. How in his romantic mind, love is beautiful. And it’s a journey that requires pain, in a way.

You kept thinking of how your parents were in love. And then, they were in pain. It was their journey that somehow ended up with you being born, ended up with your father leaving you because he couldn’t bear the responsibility. You kept thinking about how you used to blame your mother, even though all she ever did was raise you and love you. And in a way, you knew Seungmin was right and love was beautiful-- it brought your mum pain, but she was happy while it lasted. And you were the proof of that.

You give him back his library ID, fully expecting him to leave without another word, but he doesn’t. He takes it back from your hold, slipping the card into his back pocket, giving you a meaningful look as he sighs.

“I-”

“Look-”

You both start at the same time, nervously laughing before prompting the other one to speak first. You avert your eyes away from his face, letting him know you won’t be the first one to speak this time, patiently waiting for him to start talking.

“I just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry if I ever made it seem like I hate you or anything, because, well, it’s quite the opposite, really,” he chuckles, wiping his hands against his pants, “I never had the guts to hold a proper conversation with you before, because honestly, I was too shy to do that, since you’re like… so smart and everything, but yeah,” he sighs again, shortly looking you in the eyes before finishing his little speech, “I’m just… sorry, I guess?”

You feel your lips tugging into a smile, shaking your head in disbelief before speaking up again. “No, I should be the one saying sorry, because I was the one acting like a bitch… I guess that were just my own insecurities getting in the way.”

His smile mirrors yours in no time, taking your breath away as you curse in your own head. You feel crazy. So, so damn crazy for liking it so much.

“It’s okay. I guess we both had some things that came in the way. If I wasn’t acting so cold, maybe you wouldn’t hate me as much-”

“No, it’s not your fault!” you stop him, reaching out a hand to gesture him that he is talking nonsense.

He nervously shifts his weight from one leg to another, taking a short look at his shoes, gaining all of his courage before speaking up again. “I know this may sound ridiculous, but would you maybe want to… hang out sometime?”

“Hang out?” you repeat, voice a few octaves higher than usual.

“Y-yeah,” he nods, eyes big, “I was actually thinking of asking you out on a date but since you used to hate me until now, I didn’t want to go too fast-”

“It can be a date,” you jump in. The voice in your head is screaming at you now, hell, it is running around your head and hitting the walls in anger and panic. How the hell did you end up in this position? Asking Kim Seungmin out on a date? You really must be ridiculous.

“Okay,” he smiles, urgently nodding.

“Okay.” you grin. You exchange a daring stare into each other’s eyes before he deeply inhales and scratches the back of his neck, turning on his heel and quickly pacing to the door. You almost think he’s going to leave, but he quickly looks back and stops in his tracks, shooting you one last, bright smile.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow!” he cheers, not even letting you respond before he runs out of the door.

As the library falls into dead silence, you take a seat on the chair, sighing deeply and bringing your head into your palms resting on the table, just like many times before when Seungmin left the comfort of the library, but this time, there’s a goofy smile playing with your lips as you think of the last few minutes, chuckling to yourself. This was an outcome you did not expect from the project-- but it’s an outcome you don’t mind at all.

Romeo and Juliet fell in love at first sight. How long did it take you?

It’s fair to say at least two weeks.

Maybe you were foolish and maybe it will hurt, but there’s something tempting at the warm feeling in your chest and the excitement Seungmin’s presence makes you feel, and that feeling alone doesn’t let you give up on this just yet.

Your eyes fall to the opened book of Romeo and Juliet you’d left on your table just before he arrived, meaning to return the copy of the play to the library. You’re met with a sentence that makes you chuckle at the irony, the foolishness washing over you mixed with a feeling of joy you can’t quite comprehend yet, but welcome it with your arms wide open and expecting heart.

‘My only love sprung from my only hate.’

702 notes · View notes

hello-yue-here · 3 years

Note

Yuetara, zukka, and maiko

yuetara

ship

1) its not one of my main ships. i dont rlly read fanfic for them but if i see a cute fanart of them ill enjoy it and i think i first started shipping it because of good fanarts for them.

2) i like yuetara because of how similar they are. theyre both women from the water tribe. they both understand the misogyny that they have faced. and they both said f sexism im gonna be a strong woman. i also love the tui and la parallel. moon spirit and ocean spirit parallel COME ON. YUE IS THE MOON. KATARA IS THE MOST POWERFUL WATERBENDER. THEY ARE THE OCEAN AND THE MOON. the push and pull they could give eachother. that dynamic ftw.

3) i guess if i didnt like something about this ship would be the fact that if i read a fic or see a fanart w yuetara then than means in that particular au i wont get any yuekka and yuekka is probably my second favorite ship. but then again if i get yuetara than i could get a plethora of other sokka ships to go with it so my sadness disappears in like two seconds. gosh shipping is hard sometimes until you remember ‘hey i have like fifty different universes in my head. all ur ships can coexist in ur brain olivia’ other than that i really see no downsides to this ship. maybe i wish it had more content. maybe if it had more content id ship it a lot more but its not one of the more popular ships so the content is kinda few n far between on my feed.

zukka:

SHIPPP

1) my boys. my babies. my loves. i watched this show for the first time when it came out on netflix and when it ended i really didnt ship anything other than kataang. i came onto tumblr to find fun atla content and one of the very first things i saw under the atla tag was zukka content. i was like oh? whats this? zukka? interesting... i was intrigued so i found a list of fic recs and i fell in love with the ship. the rest is history. its probably my number one ship because it was my very first ship here and im nostalgic

2) oh boy there is so much i like about this ship. i relate to a shit ton of characters in atla. but sokka and zuko may be the ones i relate to most. i relate to sokka because i tend to feel second best a lot to my friends. i try to stay positive but things rarely go the way i plan or hope for them too and while im happy for my friends and their achievements i oftentimes find myself thinking why cant that be me? and i see this a lot in sokka especially in sokkas master. i dont feel special a lot and idk seeing sokka feel the same way and then realizing he is special kinda helped me realize that im special too. on the flipside i relate to zuko because i have wild anger issues and difficulty dealing w my emotions a lot as well. i get broody and short tempered and insecure very often and i tend to push people away and i refuse to ask for help (the amount of teachers and adults and therapists who have told me its okay to ask for help ur not any weaker because of it is astounding. do i listen to them? .....im working on it.) and i saw a shit ton of this in zuko. book one and two zuko rarely asks for help as seen in the blue spirit and zuko alone and he pushes away uncle so many times and even when the gaang iffers to help him in i think its the chase he tells them to leave. when he finally has his redemption and joins the gaang and lets them kinda become a better person i was so happy. i want that for myself yk. seeing him finally win the agni kai and overcome his family that always told him he was nothing was such a win. my sister and i get along but when we were children we were very much like zuko and azula. it was extremely competitive all the time and there was so much toxicity and sibling drama to a concerning extent. we get along great now which im very happy about but yeah their sibling relationship hit a lil too on the nose for me. seeing as i relate to these character so much and want them ti be happy i want to live vicariously through them so seeing them together is amazing for me to project into them. i love projecting onto fictional characters and with them i can project onto BOTH so its a winwin. plus so many zukka fics are so well written and heartwarming and heartbreaking and emotional and fluffy anf UGH the talent here us astounding.

3) what do i not like about the ship? again the list is long. oops. mainly the toxic shippers. there are so many toxic zukka stans that sometimes make it hard for me to enjoy this ship but hey! thats what the block button is for:) i despise how often people infantilize zuko and completely ruin his character for the sake of making him a soft weak lil boy who needs protecting. thats just not zuko for me. and ive seen many many accounts even state that this kind of portrayal of zuko is rooted in racist stereotypes about asian men (now i am white so i personally have never experiences racism but i feel the need to bring that up because it is wrong and attention needs to be brought to it because a lot of poc fans have criticised this) and the same for sokka. some ppl rlly skew his character and make him a big strong brute and hypermasculine and once again poc fans have said that this take is rooted in racist stereotypes. again! these are just my opinions! this is my favorite ship! but i think its important to acknowledge some of the bad parts of our ships as well and be critical where criticism is needed :))

maiko

ship

1) I LOVE MAIKO. “i dont hate you” “i dont hate you too” BRUH. my little heart just burst into flames. im sorry guys but maiko is so cute. they hate everything except eachother. BRUH that is one of the cutest tropes. i shipped them the moment i saw them together onscreen and i was so happy when zukos face lit up in the finale when mai came back.

2) “i hate everything but i have a soft spot for you” TAKE MY MONEY I AM A SUCKER FOR THIS. they are so cute together. like zuko is rarely happy in a majority of atla but mai makes him happy and i- 🥺🥺 HE DESERVES IT. and mai is always so supportive of him. when hes stressing out about the war meeting she tries her best to comfort him. and zuko cares about her too. he may not be the best at showing it but oh my god hes TRYING HIS BEST. i think its a very accurate portrayal of teenage relationships because they arent perfect and they do fight but like,, every teenage relationship does that. and even after everything and how he left her in the fire nation she still had his back at boiling rock. she still risked her life against azula to save his butt.

3) the thing i hate about maiko isnt even about maiko. its about antis who think mai is toxic and that zuko deserves better. that has got to be the worst take ive ever heard. they had a fight in ember island. that is NORMAL. they are teenagers. they are not perfect. but underneath all the rough edges and things they need to work out they still care about eachother so freaking much. i genuinelt believe that neither of them would do anything to intentionally hurt the other and i think thats what matters the most. if anything mai is the best girlfriend in the entire world because zuko fucked up like,, quite a few times. he got rlly jealous and dumped her thru a letter and ppl always say that mai was toxic for being mad at him for those two things. umm she had every right to be mad at him for both of those. and while zuko is allowed to feel his emotions and be angry sometimes as well sometimes he needs to think things thru and realize that hey maybe some if this jealousy is unfounded. BUT EVEN THEN. HE RESPECTED HER FEELINGS AND DIDNT TOUCH HER WHEN SHE SAID DONT TOUCH ME. HE RESPECTED HER. so i hate toxic maiko takes because they are literally so wrong in my opinion.

again all of these are just my opinions!! feel free to agree or disagree but please be respectful!! i will respect whatever u think as well because this is all just for fun :)

#atla #avatar the last airbender #zukka #yuetara #maiko #ship game #ask game #long post #wow i wrote a lot #also if anyone wants to talk ships feel free to message me!

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justalarryblog · 3 years

Text

🖐And I know he’ll be the death of me, at least we’ll both be numb by @capturethesunset (3k) | Not Rated

Louis getting wrecked by jealous Harry.

🖐When I hear your cries, praying for life. (I will be there) by @brokenbeauty (5k) | Explicit

Well, I figured we needed Larry birthday sex, soooo….. ;))))

🖐hop hop hop by orphan_account (3k) | Explicit

Suddenly, Harry’s slipping down his jeans, and Louis gasps as he’s met with a very unexpected but delicious sight. A mass of fur nestles between Harry’s cheeks, matching with the pink of the inner part of his bunny ears.

Or, the one in which Harry wears bunny ears and a bunny butt plug and Louis proceeds to fuck him.

🖐St. Austin’s School for Boys by @domtommo, @winsomefreak (100k) | Explicit

St. Austin’s School for Boys is a correction school for young men that uses corporal punishment as their means of discipline. After one too many infractions, Harry Styles is sent there till graduation. Upon arriving Harry meets his dorm advisor who also happens to be the first year sex-education teacher and footie coach, Louis Tomlinson. Harry falls in absolute adoration for the teacher and is all too ready to drop down onto his knees for him. During his stay he learns some very interesting things about himself… Welcome to St. Austin’s School for Boys, where the hallways are filled with love, drama, and sex.

Part 1 of St. Austin’s School for Boys

🖐jump in the deep end by @istajmaal (4k) | Explicit

Louis’s stomach lurches as he closes the last bit of distance, Harry’s nose settling between his arse cheeks and pushing them apart. Harry’s lips brush against the puckered skin around Louis’s hole in a kiss and Louis lets out a whine so high-pitched he barely recognizes it as coming from himself—what if I’m not clean enough, what if Harry hates it, what if Harry pushes me away—but then Harry’s long, wet tongue swoops in a circle around Louis’s rim and Louis feels like all the breath is knocked out of him. He grabs for Harry’s hand, still digging into his thigh, and squeezes over it, until Harry releases his vice grip on Louis’s thigh and laces his fingers through Louis’s.

or, Louis’s arse is a sensitive subject, so Harry approaches it gently. With his tongue.

🖐Yes Daddy, I Will by @recklessandbrave (9k) | Explicit

Louis smirks, arms crossed while admiring the scene in front of him. He had Harry exactly where he wanted him; desperate while blindfolded and tied up, and he was loving it. He feels drunk off the sight of his boyfriend spread out for him, naked, hard, and needy.

Or the one where Harry distracts Louis while he works and gets the punishment he deserves, and so badly wants.

Part 1 of Pastel

🖐strawberry milk fic by @Wankerville (158k) | Explicit

“So here’s the thing,” he starts. “I didn’t mean what I said a few weeks ago to like, hurt your feelings or anything. If you like painting your nails, then you should do that, and not like, care if anyone else doesn’t like it because their opinions shouldn’t matter, you know?” Louis takes a breath, finally glancing over to see the boy wide-eyed and pink-cheeked. On a whim, he adds, “And like, I noticed you scraping it off and you haven’t been wearing any and I think you should because that’s what you like.” or an au where harry paints his nails and drinks strawberry milk and is too nervous for it to be nothing and louis’ just trying to figure out whats wrong with him

🖐One for Luck by @leavingonatrain (96k) | Explicit

The very first time Louis remembers hearing Harry Styles’ deep, deep voice, he’s just won gold at the World Equestrian Games and he’s officially back on Great Britain’s Olympic team. He’s also three sheets to the wind, drunk on victory and champagne, and there’s a gorgeous boy whispering in his ear. Life’s grand.

(AU: Louis and Harry are professional riders on the British Olympic team.)

🖐driving instructor fic by @LoadedGunn (104k) | Explicit

AU where Louis is a 25-year-old driving instructor and Harry is a 17-year-old virgin who’s really awful at seduction, except for the time he gets Louis to fall for him and fuck him senseless and take him on kinky adventures.

🖐His Submission Series by tonystankyall (orphan_account) (152k) | Mature

Louis Tomlinson lives in a world where Domination and Submission is a norm. When you are born you are either branded Sub or Dom. Subs get a little pink or blue, depeneding on gender, series of swirls on the back of their neck. Doms get Red or Black, depending on gender, series of swirls on the back of their neck.

Louis Tomlinson was branded with a Blue tattoo and his day has finally come. The day of his 18th birthday where he will be randomly assigned a Dom. This dom could range from younger to older, poorer to richer, and male to female. You never knew what you were going to get. Some Doms were more harsher and stricter than others. Louis didn’t want a harsh Dom to submit to.

Harry Styles was branded with a Black tattoo and he just recieved in the mail that he was finally getting a submissive. Harry was a 32 year old man, settled in, and very very rich. He’s been waiting for an assigned submissive to be chosen for him for a very long time. His Dom friend, Zayn, has gotten his submissive two years prior, a little spit fire irish boy, Niall.

*The rest is in the note*

🖐Loving You Is Free by @littlelouishiccups (91k) | Explicit

Louis is a workaholic record label CEO who hasn’t been on a date in nearly a year. Niall and Liam make an account for him on a sugar dating website as a joke. And then Louis meets Harry.

🖐sex shop fic (dildornado ‘verse) by @istajmaal, @LoadedGunn (96k) | Explicit

AU where Louis is the most helpful sex shop salesperson in the history of sex shops, and Harry really was just looking for a vibrator with simple instructions (yet ended up getting a hands-on demonstration).

🖐connoisseurs of comfort by @sky_reid (45k) | Explicit

louis has only really had his flat to himself for a few weeks when liam knocks on the door and brings him a new flatmate. this one turns out to be a bit different though.

🖐Dance Floor Whore by @ropewithnoanchor (7k) | Explicit

Louis and Harry go to a club while on tour to blow off some steam, but Harry gets too drunk and lets another man dance up on him in front of everyone. Louis takes him back to their hotel and spends the next morning punishing Harry, making Harry work to make it up to him.

🖐Give It Up To Me by @krisstylinson (8k) | Explicit

“You’re going to end up making me come with all the boys in our lounge,” he finished, his tone softening the longer he spoke.

“And?” Harry murmured, placing his palm over the crevice of Louis’ arse, keeping the plug nice and tight inside of him. “What if I wanted you to?”

Or the cliché where Louis isn’t supposed to come but he does, and that can’t go unpunished in Harry’s eyes.

🖐Hold On To The Words You Spoke (Anchored Down In The Throat) by @justletmegohome (13k) | Explicit

“No, no. Louis, just stop. It’s not stupid, it’s never stupid. Believe it or not, I care. I care so much. Do you honestly think I’d still have my dick in your ass if I didn’t?”

Louis chuckles at that, but it’s sad, Harry notes it’s not right. “That will change when I tell you.”

“Never.” Harry kisses every bit of his face he can reach, he has no idea how that can help but he’s going to do it anyways.

“I don’t like the way I sound. ’S all,” Louis says in one breath, going coy as soon as he’s done speaking, his eyes casting downwards.

For a moment, Harry can’t believe his ears. Or the words Louis just said even if he can see them hanging in the air between them. Harry is not even sure if he listened He doesn’t want to believe them, maybe that’s why he’s having a hard time coming up with his own words.

*** Basically, Louis is loud. And then he isn’t. Harry ties him up to find out why. ***

🖐I’m Tired Of Using Technology, I Need You Right In Front Of Me by @Phillipa19 (6k) | Explicit

Louis goes away on yet another business trip, but when he stops calling Harry to check in, Harry decides to take matters into his own hands.

OR- Louis is Harry’s sugardaddy who has gone away on business and Harry feels neglected. Louis is possessive and gets a camera installed in their bedroom so he can check up on Harry, so Harry decides to use the camera to his advantage.

🖐leave you drowning until you reach for my hand by orphan_account (16k) | Explicit

If Louis told him to do something that he really didn’t want to do, it would be different, but Louis’s never done that, never asked anything of Harry that he couldn’t handle. Except—except maybe this; to obey him without praise, reward, approval, or even mere acknowledgement.

🖐let’s talk about making love by @istajmaal (25k) | Explicit

“That’s my name, baby, I’m Louis.” The voice on the phone inhales sharply, then says, “Gonna take my cock now, princess?”

Harry lets out a high-pitched mhmm and shudders as he pulls his fingers out of his hole, groping for the vibrator. “Nice to meet you,” he says, feeling a bit dizzy with how hard his untouched cock is.

Louis is just a simple phone sex line operator, but to Harry, he’s Daddy.

🖐smile in slow motion by @istajmaal (24k) | Explicit

“It’s 2011, Niall. People can fuck their friends’ faces without it meaning anything more than that.”

or, Louis is Harry’s dom and maybe also his soulmate.

🖐so defiant, little one by orphan_account(4k)| Not Rated

Louis refuses to talk to Harry when the older man doesn’t buy him the necklace he wanted, and in return Harry teaches him to be grateful when they get home.

🖐To Be Loved To Be In Love by @Angel_Dust (129k) | Mature

At 18, every Sub must take a Match Test to find their Dom.

Poor, Farm kid Louis Tomlinson is matched with Rich, Businessman Harry Styles.

Or, where Harry thinks giving Money, expensive presents and luxuries proves how much you love someone, but Louis is about to turn his world upside down.

🖐turn you on, make you radiate by @ballsdeepinjesus (15k)| Explicit

When he presses inside for the first time in weeks, he’s pretty sure he sees stars behind his eyes at the staggering sensation of Harry’s body squeezing every inch of him. When he bottoms out, he stays buried inside for a minute just to catch his bearings, listening as Harry takes sharp breaths beneath him. When he finally feels like he’s under control, he presses his lips against Harry’s ear and whispers, “Are you ready husband?“

Harry throws his head back and groans. “Call me your spouse.”

[…or, a self-indulgent snapshot of hl’s sex lives over the course of 10+ years]

🖐Untitled sugardaddy fic by orphan_account (2k) | Explicit

Harry comes home from a long day at work and has his way with his baby. (That’s Louis.)

The one with all the daddy kink sex and spanking. It’s pure pwp.

✨You can also check My Fic Tags for more fics! ✨

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xoxo-ren-xoxo · 4 years

Text

smptwt as of 04/07/2020

Right. You asked for it, so you shall recieve. Below the cut is probably one of the most thought-out, in-depth, hopefully unbiased (but probably not) and above all helpful accounts of what the fuck is happening in the smplive and lunch club fandoms right now. I will be covering everything I can- but in the case that I’ve forgotten something, please let me know so I can have a crack at making an update.

Before the cut, I’d just like to link my first three posts about this same topic, covering my thoughts and the events of the last couple of months of drama. It feels so strange that I’ve made so many of these, but as long as they help people, I’ll keep making them.

Part 1: https://crunchy-corvid.tumblr.com/post/619547090403622912/the-cscoopsmptwt-drama

Part 2: https://crunchy-corvid.tumblr.com/post/619746266158661633/more-on-smptwt-long-post

Part 3: https://crunchy-corvid.tumblr.com/post/619886809143476225/smptwt-part-3-030620

I’d like to preface this with a huge thank you to everyone who helped me collect and compile information for this post- and those who helped censor twitter handles and edit screenshots. Without you, this post would have never been made.

Thank you to everyone on the Cancelled Heaven discord server: https://discord.gg/emrh2u

Now, onto the thing.

So we’ll start at the beginning with the easiest ‘drama’ (I hate calling it that) to cover. Charlie (slimecicle) tweeted on his second account and it caused a little upset. It’s not much but it feeds into a greater conversation that I think is relevant here:

We’ll start with Charlie’s original point, then move on to the reply. Obviously, this post was poorly timed, because everyone thought it was about the Cooper (cscoop) drama, when in reality it was just a general comment. I saw a lot of replies along the lines of ‘it’s okay you can @ cscoop’ and similar things. If you’ve read my previous posts you’ll know how I feel about the Cooper situation, but regardless, there are a few reasons why this is a Bad Take/poor interpretation of what Charlie said.

Charlie and Cooper are friends. They haven’t fallen out as far as we know. Charlie is left-wing, and definately doesn’t seem like the kind of person to be friends with someone who is racist/transphobic/sexist etc. So why would he be talking about Cooper in this post?

Also, Charlie is clearly talking about people who still say slurs, not people who have said slurs in the past. This is how I read it, a jab at streamers and gamers who use ‘dark humour’ to justifty their actions. A lot of people seemed to relate this to Cooper, despite him never trying to justify his use of slurs. The people who did try to justify his actions this way were fans, not the man himself. So again, this post doesn’t relate to Cooper.

On to the reply, which sparks a different conversation all together. While I see where the commenter is coming from, and agree with them to an extent, Charlie is allowed to have his own opinion on the matter. And he is right. Using insulting language against heterosexual people does create a larger divide and doesn’t get anyone on our ‘side’. It just makes us look immature and causes a lot of straight cis people to assume that we hate them.

On the other hand, I do think that saying things like ‘disgusting hets’ can be a funny joke if you are saying it to your friends who don’t have any issue with it. You probably shouldn’t get into the habit of saying things like that though, just in case you actually hurt someone with your words. Both sides of the argument have pros and cons, so anyone angry at Charlie for his opinion really have no reason to be.

Charlie’s reponse to this comment was reasonable, responsible, and mature, and he is clearly showing that he understands the concerns of his audience. This is all I’ll say about Charlie in this post. Honestly, he’s generally unproblematic and ‘safe’ to keep watching, if you enjoy a very drama-free environment. Have fun!

Now I’ll move on to Ted. He’s made some great points recently about cancel culture which I strongly agree with. Here’s his first tweets:

I don’t have much to add here, this is perfectly valid in my opinion- though I feel like sometimes you can tell a lot about a person by the people they follow. For example, if someone follows Trump, Ben Shapiro, and a bunch of right-wing youtubers, they probably agree with a lot of the things they say. But I think the point Ted is trying to make is that he shouldn’t be harassed about drama his friends fall into. If he isn’t involved, leave him out of it.

Next we’ll take a look at his tweets on stans, probably sparked by the drama with Carson, which I will be talking about later.

Again, I have no issue with what Ted is saying here. His idea is a good one, and a fun way to distinguish casual fans from people who create art, content, and (appropriate) fanfiction for the ‘flandom’!

Basically, how I see it, is that a ‘fan’ is a casual viewer who doesn’t really get involved in the flandom, maybe posting about smplive and/or lunch club occasionally, but not being too involved. A ‘flan’ is someone who interracts a lot, creates art and fiction that respects boundaries, and posts more about the boys than a casual fan does. A ‘stan’ is a stalker-fan, creepy and obsessive, too invested, maybe creates art and fiction that crosses boundaries, and obsessively posts about the boys.

I think this new terminology is really cool and Ted is smart for coming up with it (also, probably hungry when coming up with it too). I think that the term ‘stan’ should be thrown out and used to describe the ‘bad’ side of fandoms. There is a risk that people will hide behind the term ‘flan’ to disguise the fact that they are a stan, but this is still a good step foward.

But you’re not here to listen to me ramble about Ted or Charlie. You’re here for Carson. So let’s get on with it.

Carson made a series of tweets talking about stans, much like Ted did later. He seemed tired of stans harassing him about his friends, a sentiment shared by Ted (who faced very minimal backlash over his tweets). Here’s what he said:

Which is something I fully agree with. For big content creators like Carson and his friends, stan culture is absolutely insane. Recently they’ve been trying to ‘catch out’ many people who are part of smplive and/or lunch club, most obviously with Cooper and Schlatt but I’ve seen the others getting ‘called out’ too. Carson’s anti-stan stance is well-known in the flandom (yes I am using that word get used to it) so these tweets didn’t surprise me.

For some reason stans seem to think that if one creator is okay with their behaviour, every other creator is too. This is not the case. Carson was within his full right to say these things about stans.

Obviously the replies got out of hand. People became horribly angry very quickly, and clearly Carson had already had enough because pretty soon he started blocking stan accounts- which only made them more mad.

Of course, there were supporters and anti-stan comments out there too, such as this fun exchange:

But a whole lot of people got angry. Carson was trending for a while, too, after he started blocking stans. Unfortunately some people did get wrongfully blocked, which sucks, sure, but use of an alt account or logging off of twitter can solve that problem (this can also be said for stan accounts. Carson didn’t stop any of them from viewing his content, just blocked them so that he didn’t have to see their tweets).

Carson did this for his own mental health. After a long conversation with older people who have been in fandoms for decades, I can tell you that being at the top is always hell. New threads created about you every day, friends you can’t trust, and people giving you shit for things other people said. I can’t imagine how someone as popular as Carson has dealt with this for so long.

People who were blocked started to claim that they were having panic attacks, that they hyperfixate so they can’t help being obsessive, and that Carson doesn’t care about mental health for these reasons. They said some pretty toxic and manipulative things and a lot of people clearly didn’t know what they were talking about:

First of all, these comments on the Katerino and Fitz situation are honestly disgusting. These people are only proving Carson’s point that stans will be super supportive one second and turn around to hate you the next. To bring up something like this, something completely unrelated and highly personal- knowing Carson will see- is disgraceful. To speculate about a relationship that Carson has explicitly stated he doesn’t want people to speculate about just to try and make a point? Horrible.

A lot of stans seem to have this ‘we made you famous so we dictate how you feel’ mentality, which I hate. Exactly as the reply says, they sound like toxic parents with these words. To think you deserve ‘respect’ from someone after accusing their friends of horrible things and harassing them to the point that they block you is so manipulative and quite frankly cruel.

Again, Carson has the right to block anyone he wants. Creators are not your friends, they are entertainment. If you are making them upset and harassing them, you shouldn’t get mad when they block you.

Listen. It can be tough, finding out that someone you look up to has blocked you. Yes, I’m sure people had a not-so-nice time with their mental health when it happened to them. But in most cases, they were blocked for a reason. Some people were even literally asking to get blocked and then got mad when they did. But again, no one has been barred from viewing Carson’s content. He simply blocked people who he didn’t want to see in his comments section.

You have freedom of speech, but you don’t have freedom from consequence. If you say something that hurts someone else, you’re not always going to be free from their judgement.

Carson has been very open about his own struggles with depression and imposter syndrome recently, and people are viewing his actions as... hypocritical? This is flawed logic. Carson blocked stans because they were bad for his mental health, the fact that some claim to have had ‘panic attacks’ as a result is not on him. He has the autonomy to block who he wants to block.

Wilbur Soot made some comments about the situation, which can be found in this video from 7 minutes 30 seconds in, and goes until 10 minutes and 11 seconds in:

https://www.twitch.tv/videos/667971714

What Wilbur says here is completely understandable. He doesn’t have a problem with stans, but doesn’t speak for anyone but himself. Just because one person is okay with something doesn’t mean someone else is, too.

Also, a lot of people think that it’s okay to hate on someone like Carson or Schlatt, then turn around and stan Wilbur, which is kind of fucked up, because they’re friends in real life. How would you feel if someone was super nice to you, then turned around and harassed your friends?

A lot of people claimed to have ‘hyperfixations’ on Carson or lunch club, which they used as an excuse to be obsessive and creepy. This is bullshit, but someone else explained it a lot better than I could:

And I absolutely agree with this. You cannot use neurodivergence to explain away your creepiness. That’s just offensive to people who do hyperfixate, and leads to even more problems and misunderstandings.

Carson did a stream much later where he talked about all of these things, and boy did that go well (not). Here is a clip of him talking about hyperfixations:

https://m.twitch.tv/clip/SuaveBlushingDotterelBCWarrior

Now, here’s where my support for Carson falters. He should have done more research on what hyperfixations really are before he said things about them. He hurt some people with what he said, and just saying he’s uneducated on the topic isn’t really an excuse.

HOWEVER. Carson was given very little time to research (about 24 hours between his original tweets and his stream) and, more importantly, it is very obvious that the use of the term ‘hyperfixation’ has been warped and manipulated by stans who are misusing the term to excuse their behaviour. Carson probably saw stans using it and assumed it was something synonomous with ‘obsessions’.

What he said was poorly worded, but the point he was making is the same as the (much more researched and informative) tweet above. Anyone getting mad that he is somehow ‘invalidating mental health or autism’ with his comments clearly don’t understand the point he was trying to make in the first place.

And here’s a clip of Connor talking about it, too, as well as defending Carson’s right to block people as he wishes:

https://www.twitch.tv/connoreatspants/clip/YummySlickPlumageSpicyBoy

https://www.twitch.tv/connoreatspants/clip/JazzySpotlessMelonMoreCowbell

What he said here is completely valid, a little poorly worded in the same way as Carson’s statement, but overall something I stand behind.

Some people are claiming that Carson is being manipulative or ‘gaslighting’ fans and stans:

Carson is not against fans who create cool stuff for him and his friends. He is against the people who harass him, accuse his friends of horrible things, and try to look for every little thing they’ve said and done wrong. This is what he said, and people got mad at him for it, and so he blocked them. That is it. There is no gaslighting. There is no manipulation. I’ve seen much more manipulative things coming from the stans’ side of things.

Now we move on to Noah’s reply to Carson’s tweet. Which, yes, caused a whole new can of worms to be opened.

Now, for those like me who have trouble figuring out Noah’s way of speaking, let me translate: ‘stans are insecure people who start to feel entitled because they’ve started to view a streamer they like as a friend/someone who shares their pain.’

For those of you who don’t know, this is what ‘don’t negotiate with terrorists’ means:

However, almost predictably, stans saw the word ‘terrorist’ and lost their goddamn minds. That, coupled with the complicated phrasing of Noah’s words, caused a lot of stans to freak out.

This conversation is full of Bad Takes, but my main issue is that they are trying to diagnose Noah with an actual mental illness. That is not only offensive to people who have that illness (especially calling him ‘insane’ in the same sentence, as well as implying that having said illness makes you a bad person) but is also highly hypocritical since so many stans claimed to all be neurodivergent themselves.

Also, 90% of his fans aren’t stans. They’re mostly fans or flans. You are a loud minority. You aren’t as powerful as you think you are. Noah even started to retweet hate comments, that’s how few shits he gave. He also shows that he is concerned about people making things up about him, which is understandable.

Plus he outright said that stans are not fans of him, which in most cases, they’re not. Noah’s content isn’t as widely watched as some of his friends’ stuff, and a lot of stans don’t watch his streams.

But anyway, here’s one good take I saw floating around:

After this, before his stream, Carson deleted his original tweets and spent some time with his family, which was a sensible and mature thing to do at this point.

During Carson’s stream, someone notified him that his ‘fans’ had started to doxx stans. Here is his reaction:

https://m.twitch.tv/callmecarsonlive/clip/SpicySassyGerbilArgieB8

A lot of people got mad that he didn’t do more to stop the doxxings, but I want to raise the question: what was he supposed to do? He can’t control his ‘fans’ (another breed of stans who don’t call themselves stans were doing the doxxings, to be honest) and he said not to do it. He was streaming, he didn’t know how serious it was or even if it was true, at that moment, what was he supposed to do?

It did get serious. People I know were doxxed. Anyone posting anything (positive or negative) about lunch club, smplive, and Carson were in danger. It was not fake like some people claimed. The twt handles in this post are blurred out because of the doxxing threats. I am making this post at my own risk, but I do feel that tumblr is safer than twitter at the moment.

This being said, it is in no way Carson’s fault how out of hand this has become. He has been against doxxing in the past and his sentiments haven’t changed. He has said more about the doxxings in replies to tweets such as this one:

Also, here’s what the mods on Carson’s discord server had to say about the situation. They’ve clearly talked about this with Carson, and are strongly against anyone who is doxxing these people (especially since a lot of the people being doxxed are minors).

A similar sentiment was shared on Ted’s discord server:

Here is what ItsAsaii had to say:

So that’s basically where everything stands right now. If you want an even fuller update on everything, check out Carson’s stream ‘afternoon fellas and fellettes’ where he talks about everything.

Here’s the last tweets I have from Carson regarding the whole situation:

And I agree fully with what he has said. And again, Carson doesn’t owe stans anything. Just like what was said here, he had subs and fans before he had stans, they did not ‘make’ him, and they cannot control him.

This is all I have to say, for now. If I have missed anything or you’d like me to cover anything else, please let me know. If I have hugely missed the mark and said something super wrong/offensive, let me know. If you’d like me to talk about a streamer or youtuber not related to lunch club, throw me a DM or an ask and I’ll try to compile some things, even if I don’t watch their content or know who they are.

If you’d like up-to-date information about drama in smptwt, streamers, and youtubers, join the Cancelled Heaven discord server- which I linked at the start of the post.

I thank you all for reading, and suggest that you reblog this so that as many people as possible can see it. If you want to risk it, go ahead and link this post in a tweet or something, but please do be careful.

For some ‘extra reading’ (watching) I highly recommend Contrapoints’ video on cancel culture: https://youtu.be/OjMPJVmXxV8

And Philosophy Tube’s video on artists and fandoms, there’s some really insightful things about parasocial relationships: https://youtu.be/3IG0Y63LkDM

Lots of love, and have a great day <3

#smptwt #smplive #lunch club #callmecarson #ted nivison #slimecicle #cscoop #twitter #twitter drama #twt #lctwt #stan culture #cancel culture #long post

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artificialqueens · 3 years

Text

Taste of a Poison Paradise, Chapter 6 (Multi) - Joley

Chapter Summary: Lemon continues to cope poorly, Brooke Lynn, Kameron, and Vanessa realize that love triangles are out and triads are in, Nicky surprises Jan with a travel proposal, Jackie gets invested in Jaida’s OnlyFans, and Gigi is dealing with some unwanted attention (TW for mentions of stalking and sexual harassment).

ao3 link

Jan watched as Lemon packed her suitcases. “Maybe we should let the lease expire,” she remarked, hoping that distracting her friend with mundane conversation would keep her from getting upset again. “If you’re gonna stay with Rosé, and I stay at Nicky’s most of the time, it doesn’t make sense to keep paying for this place. And like, you’re always welcome to stay with us too, if you want.”

“No offense, but I don’t really wanna be around your beautiful, blossoming romance any more than I have to be. Also, don’t you think you guys are moving a little fast? I mean, it’s been like… a month. Vanjie’s a nut but even she waited a solid three months before rolling out the u-haul,” Lemon replied, throwing her body onto the suitcase to get it to close.

“You’re not wrong,” she conceded. “But her place is gorgeous, you can’t blame me for wanting to just stay there and get fucked for hours on end.”

She rolled her eyes but nodded. She couldn’t complain because she was the one that brought it up, but hearing how perfect things were for Jan and Nicky made her seethe with envy. “Guess we’ll just have to see if you guys can still stand each other once the honeymoon phase is over.”

Jan frowned. “Okay, I’m not gonna take that personally because I know you’re going through a hard time right now,” she murmured. “Is that everything?”

“Yep,” Lemon mumbled as she got up and dragged her suitcases to the front door. She then stopped and rifled through her purse, pulling out a flask and taking a swig, then offered it out to Jan.

“No thanks, not really up for day drinking today,” she said, then leaned over and sniffed the opening of the flask. “Is that straight vodka?”

She shook her head. “There’s sprite in there too,” she assured.

Again, Jan chose not to argue with her. She knew her friend was hurting and she hoped the worst of it would pass once she got settled in with Rosé. “Let’s get going,” she sighed.

Once Rosé had officially taken Lemon in, Jan’s nerves eased up, but her concern hadn’t. “I think this is the best place for her to be right now. Make sure she doesn’t fall off with her coursework, okay? This is her last semester and I’d hate for this to derail her entirely and–”

“Jan,” Rosé put her hand on her shoulders to try to focus her attention. “Breathe, baby. I love your love for her, but you don’t have to be her mom. I got it from here.”

Jan nodded, taking a deep breath in an attempt to quell the remaining concerns. “Okay, I’m good,” she told her. “How are you, by the way? Things going well with Denali?”

“Yeah, there’s not much to report,” she shrugged. “We’re just sleeping together, and neither of us has a boyfriend so there’s no downside.”

“You say that now.”

——-

Brooke Lynn sat in an uncomfortable silence of her own creation, her gaze fixed down on her plate. It was so much easier talking to Kameron when Vanessa was sandwiched between them – being alone with her made her feel exposed.

“I’m not trying to take Vanessa from you,” Kameron bluntly broke the silence. “I like her, I like spending time with her – with both of you – but I’m not interested in creating drama.”

She blinked, taking in what she’d said. Had she come off as threatened? Jealous? She supposed it wasn’t the most outlandish thought. “No, no it’s not like that. I trust Vanjie and I trust you. I’m just still kind of new to the world of relationships, let alone serious ones, you know?”

Much to her relief, Kameron nodded in understanding. “Listen, I get it. If you don’t have a lot of dating experience, someone like Vanjie can be… a lot. But I know you guys love each other, though I’m not gonna sit here and claim that I don’t have any feelings for either of you… I can get a little clingy after sex, what can I say?”

Brooke bit her lip and looked down. “I can’t say I expected this, but I’m not complaining,” she told her. “And I know you haven’t told Vanj yet, or I’d have already heard about it.

“I kind of figured you’d be a tougher nut to crack,” she admitted, rubbing the back of her neck. “I mean, I’m not oblivious, I know you weren’t thrilled with the whole open relationship thing at first.”

“You’re right,” she conceded. “But I’ve honestly warmed up to it… I’ve warmed up to you, anyway.” She pressed her lips together as she thought. “I think the three of us should talk. Because I don’t think she ever wanted an open relationship, she just wanted you. And I don’t blame her.”

Kameron arched her brow, a slight smirk tugging at her lips. “So, what, you’re thinking of trying a throuple situation?”

Brooke smiled and shrugged. “I think it’s an option worth considering.”

But to consider it properly, they did need Vanessa. So, once they were all together in their apartment, they opened the floor. “I think it’s a damn good idea,” Vanessa started. “Can’t believe it took us this long to think of it.”

The other two girls laughed. “I think we were expecting that answer,” Brooke told her. “I don’t think any of us are opposed to it, it’s more about working out the details. For example… Do we move Kameron in with us? I feel like it’s a bit awkward to have two-thirds of a throuple living together with the third somewhere else.”

“I’m not about to say no to not having to pay rent,” Kameron laughed lightly. “I rent month to month, so I just have to be out by the end of it,” she explained. “And besides, if I get sick of you guys, I could just crash in the guest room. Which, by the way, is like half of my entire apartment.”

“This feels like a business transaction,” Vanessa remarked, a bit of an annoyed whine in her voice.

“You know what they say, baby,” Brooke hummed, “business before pleasure.”

——

“Would you like to come with me to Paris?” Nicky asked as she laid in bed with Jan. “I’m going over there for a long weekend and I think you could use a little holiday.”

Jan beamed brightly and nodded. “Yeah, that sounds like fun. What’s the occasion?”

There was a hesitation before her reply that wasn’t lost on Jan. “I try to go and check in on my mother now and then. But I don’t want to trouble you with that, there’s plenty of things to do and–”

“Do you not want me to meet your mom?”

Nicky quickly shook her head. “It isn’t that. It’s just… I have never brought a girl to meet her before. She means well, usually, but she can be… judgmental. I don’t think she ever fully came to terms with having a gay daughter. It is like… she loves me, but not who I am.”

“And her gay daughter bringing home a stripper would give her an aneurism?”

“This isn’t about what you do, Jan,” she insisted, “she’d react all the same if you were a doctor or a lawyer or the fucking president. But I mean, come on, what do your parents think you do for a living?”

Jan frowned and crossed her arms. “They know I’m still trying to find acting work during the day, and they know I work at the club at night… They just think I’m a waitress.”

“You guys do not have waitresses.”

“But they don’t know that!” she pointed out, then quietly followed up with, “I get it, whatever, forget I said anything.”

Nicky sighed and sat up, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Do you want to meet my mother that badly?”

This time, it was Jan who hesitated as she thought for a moment. “I mean, I don’t wanna make things more difficult or stressful for you…”

She reached out and took her hand, squeezing gently. “Come with me, we will burn the bridge after we cross it. But I need you to understand that I am not ashamed of you, okay? Not at all.”

Jan smiled softly, picking her head up and resting it on Nicky’s shoulder. Ever since she had started working at the club, she had made a promise to herself to never date anyone that made her question her self-worth. Truth be told, if her parents ever found out about her career, their response wouldn’t be one of anger, it would be pity. They would take her in, give her money, treat her like a poor, lost soul that needed to be put on the right path. And to her, that was so much worse. “I have always wanted to go to Paris.”

——

Having consciously been in the closet since she was sixteen, Jackie was well adept at keeping secrets. But this time, keeping a secret felt so much more difficult, because it involved more than just herself. And as inconsequential as the secret may be in theory, it weighed heavily on her conscience.

She had waited a couple of days before creating an account to subscribe to Jaida’s OnlyFans, lest it look suspicious. But once she was in, she was checking her page almost obsessively. Sure, she had seen Jaida in every state of undress, but this was different, more intimate. It came with the territory, but seeing Jaida’s body in ways she had only fantasized about drove her wild.

Then she decided to get bold.

Maybe it was the extra glass of wine, maybe it was an overwhelming bout of horniness. But something compelled her to send Jaida a private message, happy to pay the five-dollar fee.

NYCdude1985: Hi, do you take requests for personalized videos? How much does it cost?

Jaida: As in you want me to moan your name while I touch myself? Yeah, I do thirty-second clips for $20.

NYCdude1985: Done. My name is Jack. But I go by Jackie, so use that.

NYCdude1985: Please, sorry.

Jaida chuckled softly as she read the messages. Even through the brief exchange, she could sense Jackie’s anxiety, the trepidation she had. She found it endearing and she was proud of her for being brave enough to take that step, even if it was under a rather uncreative screen name.

How had she known it was Jackie? It was a simple oversight on Jackie’s end - she had left her laptop open in her office, where the girls would frequently enter if they needed to refill the snack shelves or replenish the bathrooms. Jaida had merely gone to see if she had any extra zebra cakes when she noticed the tab in the upper-left corner of her browser. Suddenly, snacks were the last thing on her mind.

And she had considered bringing it up to her but realized it would do more harm than good. Instead, she would give Jackie exactly what she wanted. She filmed herself rubbing her clit while she moaned Jackie’s name. She didn’t bother timing it, she decided she was going to give her the whole thing, start to finish. Her gaze fixed on the camera, wanting Jackie to feel like she was looking right at her.

When Jackie watched it, she felt the intensity. Her heart pounded in her chest, she couldn’t even touch herself the first time she watched it, so utterly fixated on how Jaida’s body moved, how her name sounded spilling from her lips, how desperately she wanted it to be for real. She had to consciously get herself to get off during her second watch-through, though she was actively imagining being there with Jaida, with her head between her thighs, eliciting those moans herself.

“I have to tell her,” Jackie said to Nicky the next day. The two of them had formed a friendship since Nicky first arrived, Nicky, finding comfort in a fellow French speaker and Jackie appreciating having a confidant. “It’s gonna eat me alive until I do.”

“You should tell her,” Nicky replied as she took a hit off her vape. “You said it yourself, it is the only way you are going to feel any better. Besides, what is the worst thing that could happen?”

Jackie looked at her as if she’d sprouted another head. “I lose a close friend and incredible employee, not to mention the potential ethical ramifications of buying porn from an employee.”

Nicky tilted her head, thinking, before asking, “est ce que tu l'aimes?”

Her eyes went wide and her face went red at the question, at the mere suggestion. “Je ne pense pas pouvoir dire que… l'amour est un mot si fort.”

“Maybe so,” she conceded, “but consider that you could not say ‘no’.”

“I’d rather not,” Jackie chuckled dryly. “Listen, I gotta send some business emails out before the girls start coming in. You should go pack for your little getaway tomorrow.”

Nicky nodded and kissed the top of her head. “I will bring you back a souvenir.”

Jackie wasn’t left alone with her thoughts for long, not a minute after she finished her emails, she looked up to see Gigi walking in and sitting down on one of the chairs. But what caught her attention was their body language – they were looking down, fiddling with their hair, and swinging their legs. “What’s wrong, Geege?”

Gigi sighed and looked up. “Okay, like, this is stupid and whatever, but Crystal thinks I should tell you that I think a client I had a couple of weeks ago is stalking me. I made a composite sketch,” they explained, opening their messenger bag and pulling out a piece of paper. “Do you think if I give this to Kameron, she could make sure he stays out?”

“Gigi,” she said firmly, “that isn’t stupid at all. This is serious. Did he hurt you? What happened?”

They groaned, knowing this would happen despite any attempt to avoid triggering Jackie’s maternal instinct. “He kept asking about the VIP room and I decided I could use the extra cash. So, we were in there and I told him I’d give him a handy and he was like, okay cool. But after he paid for that he kept trying for more and was being really creepy about it, so, I left. He just… really didn’t like that I blew him off instead of blowing him. He found me on Instagram and started harassing me there, kept making fake accounts after I blocked them and he figured out where I go to school.”

Jackie’s eyes widened in horror. “Geege, this isn’t a matter for Kameron, it’s for the police.”

“But I hate the police,” they crossed their arms and whined.

“We all hate the police, but this is a serious safety risk. Kameron can’t follow you everywhere to keep him away. I need to know that he won’t get the opportunity to hurt you.”

Gigi sighed, chewing on their lip. “I don’t wanna give him that power over me, I don’t even wanna waste the time or energy,” they explained. “But fine, just for you though, okay?”

Jackie smiled graciously. “Thanks, kiddo.”

After Jackie had taken Gigi to file the report, she had offered them the night off, but Gigi defiantly insisted on performing, though after one set, they found themself tired, laying on the common room couch.

Jan sat cross-legged on the floor beside them. “You know, gorge, it’s okay to not be okay. That asshole put you through a lot. I had to take off a week after… you know, the incident. We’re in an industry that can attract real creeps, we gotta put our mental health first.”

Gigi shook their head. “Your incident was different, it got physical. The only time this guy touched me was to try to push down on the back of my head.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Denali chimed in, sitting on the arm of the couch. “It’s about boundaries. You made yours clear and he kept crossing them. And you don’t know what this dude is capable of, any of us would be scared in that position. I’ve dealt with a stalker too – he never touched me, but I sure as fuck didn’t feel safe.”

“I just don’t see the point in dwelling on it. Feeling shitty about it isn’t gonna make it go away,” they replied.

Jan frowned, putting her hand on top of Gigi’s and squeezing gently. “It’s not healthy to ignore your feelings either way. It’s better to work through it than let it manifest into some nasty shit.”

“Who gives a fuck about feelings?” The three of them looked over to see Lemon stumbling into the common room, setting a freshly-emptied glass on the counter. “And who gives a fuck about men? All they do is get in the way and think the world revolves around their ugly dicks,” she ranted, a bit of slurring in her voice.

“Speaking of what happens when you ignore your feelings,” Jan muttered under her breath, then turned to face Lemon. “You’re not getting back on the pole tonight, are you?”

Lemon furrowed her brows. “Why wouldn’t I? I still have one more set,” she scoffed. But when she started to walk towards the other dancers, she stumbled, nearly losing her balance on her already precarious six-inch heels.

Denali and Jan exchanged concerned expressions. “I’ll call Rosie to come and get her,” she said before Jan could suggest it, turning on her heel and going to get her phone from her locker.

Gigi, meanwhile, nearly got whiplash from how fast their head moved back and forth from Jan and Denali to Lemon. “You know,” they said to Jan, “maybe I should start working through my feelings. Even therapy seems like a better alternative to…” they gestured to Lemon, “that.”

“As her friend, I feel like I need to intervene, but I think anything short of breaking up Pri and her fiancé is going to be a waste of time,” Jan mused as she watched her sit on the floor and struggle to take her heels off, cursing and whining quietly. “Something tells me things are gonna get worse before they get better.”

“Maybe,” they shrugged. “Lemon’s stubborn and possibly a little unstable… she might need to hit rock

#rpdr fanfiction #taste of poison paradise #joley #lemyanka #brooke x kameron x vanessa #jan x nicky #jackie x jaida #lemon #priyanka #jan sport #nicky doll #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #kameron michaels #jaida essence hall #jackie cox #lesbian au #smut

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zirkkun · 3 years

Text

a suffering aftermath.

a suffering aftermath. (Undertale Fanfic - based off of huntsman. by @alch3mic - rated M by AO3 standards)

+ huntsman!sans/lil red!reader (though instead written with they/them because;; self indulgence)

+ 1241 words, english

+ hurt/comfort with yandere elements. this is a rant fic based on parts of huntsman. that reminded me very much of of my own life. lowkey i guess “based on a true story” cause it’s my life lol

+ takes place after the events of huntsman., which you should totally read btw

+ “He thought it would be over once they were dead. Unfortunately, there are some scars left behind that cannot be healed. And he hates them with every fiber of his being.”

+ AO3 link

"You know... I'm glad that my stalker is gone, but..." They bit their lip as they spoke. "I always fear they're going to come back."

Sans turned to his human, a brow raised, the faint noise of the television still playing the movie the two of them had been watching. "what brings this up?" he asked.

"I... I dunno," they confess. "I was just thinking about it again." Pulling their legs up onto the couch, they held their head up by resting it against their knees. "I... I don't know if you know this, but... I had troubles with them long before they were my co-worker. In high school." There was a long pause between this confession and their continuation, eyes flipping between the television, the floor, and Sans's face eagerly awaiting the rest of their story. A sigh slipped passed their lips. "We'd met in middle school and were friends for a while, but it wasn't long until they were really clingy in... really physical ways. I... I really hated it. So I started just ignoring them, cause I didn't know what else to do. But they had my email, so they kept emailing me..."

For a moment, they tried to distract themself from the memory of it by watching the movie in front of them instead, but it was clear by Sans's motion of wrapping an arm around their waist and bringing them closer to him that he wanted to hear more of the story. Caving to this, they timidly continued. "They sent me a lot of horrible things, Sans. Long winded explanations of their abuse. Endlessly typo-filled letters of their love for me. Graphic descriptions of their sex life. Threats that they would cut themself or even kill themself if I didn't reply or accept them as if they weren't flawed. I was so scared. I didn't know what to do." It was beyond their control: tears started to trickle down their cheeks as they started to remember everything all at once. At the very least, Sans's gentle rubbing against their back was a bit calming, but it didn't stop the horror overwhelming their mind.

"E-eventually the emails stopped but... the stalker came back. It's almost like they were reignited the second I had a boyfriend." Sans repressed his resentment to hearing such a phrase, but soon pushed it aside with the reminder he could not change his human's life from before him. It only moderately settled his nerves. "The threats they made to him... he later ended up being just as abusive as they were, but so subtle and positive about it that I didn't even realize, but, stars, if anything happened to him because of me?" They shook their head aggressively, words cracking as they fell out of their mouth. "I don't know what I'd do with myself."

Sans couldn't bare to listen to their crying anymore. He pulled them even closer, embracing them completely in a hug and nuzzled into their neck, trying to carefully shush them as their cries refused to cease. Burying their face into the fabric of Sans's black hoodie, they tried to get a grip on their emotions again before saying anything; their hands were death gripping the back of his sweatshirt, trembling as they tried to calm their ever stuttering breath. "S-sorry," they eventually whimpered.

"for what, sweetheart?" Sans whispered. "it's ok. i'm here for ya. just say what you've got to."

Swallowing heavy, and while appreciating his kind words, they couldn't help but feel guilty for suddenly dropping such a heavy topic on him out of nowhere. Ah, it was just like them, wasn't it? To once again ruin a nice date night Sans had planned for the two of them... Their grip on his shirt tightened.

"Ha, ha..." They let out a nervous laugh, trying to sound at least a little more uplifted. "Can you really believe all that happened when I was 15...? And it wasn't even half of it..." They took another heavy breath before continuing, trying to suspend their hiccuping weeps for at least a brief time. "When it got to the end of high school, they desperately tried becoming friends with me again. We had a singular class together... and every time it rolled around it sent me into a silent panic attack. Sometimes they tried passing me notes through a 'mutual friend'... sometimes they'd hang up signs on their desk during class directed at me... and like six or seven times they made alternate accounts to try and follow me online and become friends that way... as someone else I didn't call a stalker. Every time I blocked them, they called me out, creating so much drama that I lost all the friends and bits of internet fame I'd built over the years..." They tucked their head further down. "Sorry, you don't care about that..."

"i care about everything that has to do with you," Sans blurted. "everything."

But they still weren't so sure, and skipped the topic anyway. No, they were sure he wouldn't care about how they had to make a new internet personality entirely. That was off topic at this point. Rather, the more important point...

"You know they found me again. They got the same job as me. They tried working with me. They tried asking me out again. They tried asking to be friends again. They threatened me again. They... They even learned where I lived and stalked me for weeks--"

"i know, i know," Sans hushed. "but they're not gonna hurt you anymore."

"But how can you be so sure...?"

"have I lied to you before, sweetheart?"

His coy tone. He knew the truth. But it's not like he would ever dare say anything.

To them, his voice sounded merely playful. Reassuringly positive.

... to an extent.

"No..." they mumbled, though some part of them wasn't wholly confident; speaking against his hoodie. "No, you haven't."

Sans pressed a soft kiss against their neck. "and i'm not gonna, ok? you can trust me. they're never going to hurt you ever again. not while i'm here for you."

The television continued through the movie, which was reaching its end. A pity. So close to a normal evening. But it was fine for now. The reasoning was legitimate enough. Sans was even finding himself a bit devastated at the sight of his Little Red's tears. Their genuine tears. Each one crushed him. Fueled his anger.

Hunting the enemy had been easy.

Dealing with the mess they caused was not.

Had this stalker not already been long dead and disposed of, Sans would have dropped everything to kill them right now. Anything to stop these tears from dripping down his precious human's cheeks. But now, there was nothing to express his fury onto. He could do nothing for now other than hold them close, despite how every passing second of hearing that traumatized sob practically cracked his Soul, bit by suffering bit.

Why is this not so easily dealt with?

Why can't he just... throw what's unnecessary away?

Why can't this motherfucking rat leave his Little Red Riding Hood alone?

Sans held them just a bit tighter. A bit more desperately. "i'm here for you, sweetheart," he reminded once again. He even grimaced as they held a tighter grip on his jacket, practically feeling their pain as if it was his own.

"nothing bad is ever gonna happen to you again."

#undertale #undertale fanfic #sans undertale #huntsman!sans #yandere tw//#past abuse tw//#hurt/comfort #oneshot #rant fic #zircon writes #undertale au

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ddaenghoney · 4 years

Text

chapter twelve

masterlist link in blog description.

As a successful songwriter, you want nothing more than the acknowledgment that the chart-topping musical pieces are your own creations. But contracts, relationships, and the difficulty of facing the stakes involved head on, keep your mouth shut until pressure builds too much.

Pairing(s): Park Jimin x Y/N, Min Yoongi x Y/N

disclaimer: any characters depicted do not represent the actual personality of the respected idol in real life.

Series warning(s)/genre(s): Chapter-based written fic, Slow-burn relationship(s), Fake-dating, Unrequited love, Songwriter/producer!oc, idol!Jimin, idol/songwriter/producer!Yoongi, friends with benefits, drama, romance, smut, angst, fluff (updated as needed)

Chapter warning(s): mentions of anxiety and themes of anxiety from slight claustrophobic environment.

Word count: 5463

if you enjoy please, please let me know!

You click the volume button on your phone to raise the playlist’s sound to comfortable blur of the world around. More particularly, to avoid any verbiage from entering your eardrums when you are already too aware of how much attention you bring to yourself. Rationalizing that your presence at the airport makes sense given your public relationship with Yoongi, you simply scroll through a feed of posts on Instagram to bide time, waiting for an arrival text.

Yoongi told you not to come when you told him as he boarded his flight home that you’d be there to greet him. Explaining that it’s dangerous to your safety considering the amount of crowds sure to welcome him as well with the flight back being public, Yoongi said he’d go see you from the airport instead. You would’ve agreed had the whole ordeal not been requested hours earlier in a direct email from Yerin.

“Ms.,” The sound muffles in your ears, more aware of the bodyguard’s request for your attention by means of a gentle pat on your shoulder. You remove an earbud, spine tingling at choice words that seemed amplified by the tall ceilings and shiny tile floor of the terminal. “He should be landing soon, when he enters, please make sure you follow our guidance to the vehicle instead of loitering. For your safety.”

You nod, feeling exceptionally feeble in this alien situation. Never in your life would you picture yourself waiting for someone of such high recognition in the middle of the airport at the top of a wall of fans held behind you by use of a flimsy metal barrier. Furthermore, you would not ever think the person would be a falsified boyfriend where your position in the crowd only drives irritated spikes constantly in your direction.

Granted, the majority of people waiting to spot Yoongi seem polite, and even yell back in your defense. Still, you didn’t necessarily want to be at the center of this type of attention. The guard next to you probably finds you being there just as annoying as you thought you’d be when you read the email’s demand-

“Look, he’s here!”

Like the shot to start a race, the one discernable exclamation causes a frenzy of calls. The barrier budges only slightly, impact stopping as sensibility takes over and the hundred or so people try to act as civil as possible given the circumstances.

You clutch your phone tighter in your grasp, glancing back at them all as they scream different things to gain attention, but your eyes go back to the opening doors. Along with other passengers getting as far away from the mayhem as possible, Yoongi walks out with the inherent entourage of staff and guards.

Your smile is incredibly forced because of the nerves rumbling in your throat from the amount of people and volume, but then altogether the expression fades away as Yoongi just nods in a direction for you to follow them down the premade path to the awaiting SUV. Gathering he’s irritated by the added hysteria of you being there, you move towards him quickly, grabbing hold of the hand he extends out for you, but it becomes abandons as well. Instead replaced by Yoongi’s arm worming around your waist to pull you closer to his stature as the crowds get more vivid on account of paparazzi waiting towards the doors.

Your newly free hands find purchase quickly gripping onto the fabric hanging off of Yoongi’s torso, nervously following his pace as the bright flashes stun your senses. Biting roughly on your lip, you feel the bumps from security, hear the constant shouts of attention for both of you, and try your best to ignore it all, repeating that it’ll end soon.

The car doors are open long before the two of you reach them. Yoongi nudges you ahead at last moment to let you inside first, following in quickly afterward with the door shutting just as swiftly. You exhale air held in your lungs as your hands fiddle with one another in your lap, trying to ease as the car departs.

“Are you okay?” Yoongi raises the armrest of his seat to turn, knee nearly bumping your own seat while his eyes scan over your person. “I wish you would’ve told Yerin no-- that-” He points to the back of the car where road trails behind you both, head shaking, “is scary enough for anyone, but making you wait there for me for hours?” He scoffs, rubbing his bangs back from his face, “Bullshit. You shouldn’t have had to go through that, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

Quiet lingers in the air, Yoongi’s chest rising and emptying a bit more visibly from the angered rant. He waits for you to respond, still eyeing your figure for outward signs of distress from the crowds. You eventually nod your head,

“Not a fan of that all.” Your voice feels grated, must sound so too as Yoongi frowns at you in response. He glances to your hands balled in your lap, still fidgety for relief with one another. Wordlessly he reaches for them both, taking them within his larger appendages. Rubbing gently, Yoongi also nods his head to your conclusion. “I’m sorry if it made you upset I was there though.”

“I’m not mad about that.” Yoongi mumbles easily in response, keeping contact for himself because of how your hands feel between his. Naturally, he hates that invasive part of fame, finding it anxiety inducing for multiple reasons. “It just bothers me you had to be around all of the crowds and deal with that.”

“I’m okay.” You convince him with a small voice, that also helps your own psyche to hear aloud. A faint smile curls on Yoongi’s lips as he lifts his gaze back to yours, silently telling you that you didn’t need to pretend. Your shoulder shrugs because it’s not a complete lie. “You’re here. I’m okay.”

Yoongi’s lips pursed at your tiny admission, appearing to grow satisfied with the words, but his head ducks shyly. The balling connection of your hands feel only a little tighter because of a flustered squeeze by Yoongi, “If you say so then...”

“Oh,” You interrupt the moment to shift on your seat, facing Yoongi when he looks back to you in a focused surprise. “Can we go to my apartment? I have the cake.” You grin as you watch Yoongi’s eyes light up in remembrance of the jovial promise you made to him before leaving. His lips curl, visibly peeking teeth as he chuckles at the excitement and pride you emit from the endeavor,

“Who am I to say no to cake?” ---

“Ignore all the papers on the-- what’s supposed to be-- dining table. I’m the worst at keeping it clean.” You mutter as you type in the code for your front door, ignoring Yoongi’s light laughter because in reality you’re internally thinking about how much of a mess you left the rest of the place. Pushing the door open, you scan the room as Yoongi follows you inside. Incidentally, it’s not that awful, but the table is as much of a disorganized array of papers, notebooks, and other stationary that you knew it would be.

“You can put your backpack on the armchair, or anywhere.” You gesture to your living area, before walking along to the kitchen space on the side opposite the table.

“I’m going to end up falling asleep on the couch if I get too close to it.” Yoongi admits in a joking murmur as he places his bag beside the entrance to your door instead, stretching out his arms when they’re free of the weight.

“Wait, yeah, you’re probably really tired, huh?” You frown as you pull out the cake from the refrigerator, turning to place it on the small island. “I’m sorry, I should’ve let you go home and sleep-” “I’m okay,” He says with a smile, though your frown remains because of sleepiness in his eyes as Yoongi meets you in the kitchen. “Besides I’m just going to make my sleep schedule worse if I let myself go to sleep at two in the afternoon.” He tilts his head, smile tugging on his lips as you continue to frown up at him dissatisfied with the situation. “Quit pouting, I’m okay.”

“I’m not pouting.” You mumble, averting your gaze to the cake, fingers lazily playing with the container’s lid. The movement halts as Yoongi’s chuckling rings in your ears followed by his thumb prodding the plush of your cheek, calling your eyes back to his.

“You’re literally pouting.” Yoongi’s voice is quieter than it needs to be, despite its playful intonation as he studies your expression with gleaming fondness seemingly in his irises. You tighten your lips into a line, listening to the silence while the imaginary sound of your heart tries to pretend it’s accelerating audibly. “I can sleep later; I wanted to see you, Y/N, it’s not a big deal.” His arm falls back to his side as Yoongi looks to the container, catching the pink frosting’s pigment visible through the blur of the container’s texture. “Don’t judge me if I eat this entire thing, by the way.”

“Are you hungry?” Your soft tone is contrastingly teasing paired with a smile as Yoongi makes a tiny unintelligible noise followed by a mumble of falling asleep when they served food on the plane. You poke your finger into his side, giggling instantly as he jerks from you and grabs your hand. His eyes are wide, startled when he looks back at you, appearing utterly and dramatically offended that you tickled him beneath his ribcage. “Grilled cheese sound good?”

A grilled cheese layered with deli meat and quickly sauteed veggies and a full slice of cake make Yoongi sigh with contentment as he relaxes back into your couch. You watch with amusement as the amount of carbohydrates weigh down his eyes more than before. Chewing on the final bite of cake he insisted you had to eat as well or else it wouldn’t be a real celebration, you set your empty plate to the coffee table clattering its edge barely against Yoongi’s. “You and Namjoon are great at cooking.”

“It was just a sandwich.” You play off the compliment, thinking back to the first year of Namjoon’s cafe opening where you helped him out a lot more than nowadays that it is settled.

“The best one ever.” Yoongi goes on, eyes closed while he lounges back on the cushion, smiling when he hears you scoff in disbelief, yet with gratitude. The show’s sound lingers in the background of your perception, as you ponder calling him a cab so Yoongi could go properly rest. “You know you still haven’t told me about how the meeting with Yerin went.”

In the moment Yoongi brings up the topic you’ve done entirely well to avoid so far, you bite onto your bottom lip, shifting your stare aimlessly back to the television. Telling Yoongi that you’ve practically quit your job with no plan on how to get back on your feet afterward sounds like a way to get him to think you’re a little bit crazy, or at least very careless. When Namjoon found out he spent about ten minutes going back and forth from congratulating you without fervent emotion and staring at you like he was just as confused about what you would do as well.

You didn’t really want to go through that again, even if it is warranted due to their worry.

A hum vibrates your lips, thinking of a way to get him to altogether forget about this subject. Maybe if you put on a rain asmr playlist he’d fall asleep and you could abandon the country for a week to figure out an excuse of why you’re irrationally spoken decision in the meeting won out over something more civil. And resembling a continued livelihood.

“Was it bad after all?” Yoongi shifts on the couch beside you, legs coming up to sit criss cross as he faces you to better gauge your emotions. “You said you’d tell me about it when I got back since it wasn’t a big deal, but,” A tiny laugh leaks out with a contrasting mixture of nervous and attempt to keep the conversation’s ambience light-hearted. “Maybe not?”

“There’s just not much to say,” You begin vaguely, fingers in your lap fidgeting with one another as you figure out how to go about speaking, “They weren’t interested in changing my contract anymore than giving me a larger percentage of royalties so,” You shrug as the words trail away, thinking that you have no actual reason to find this difficult to admit. Yoongi wouldn’t be angry or judge you, but it felt embarrassing to say. Considering how financially secure your career at SoundWave keeps you, how could you just pull away from that to practically start over from the ground up?

“Ah,” Yoongi head nods in understanding. You glance towards him, watching him tossle around his locks and appear so groggy and without energy from the ten hour flight home. Yet he still seems intent to pay attention and hear what your situation is like now, to be beside you as you adapt to changes. “So you signed with them again.”

“I didn’t renew the contract.”

Without flinching, your eyes follow Yoongi’s head as it shoots up. No particular shock invades his appearance for a moment, just eyebrows creasing and a mutter, “You didn’t?” It’s as you nod slowly that his eyes begin to widen, lips parting in a shocked circle, then a repeat, “You didn’t.”

You swallow thickly, before cracked, small, practically soundless laughter leaves your lips as you just nod again. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.” Your words are hollow, different from how you casually spoke the facts to Namjoon a week ago. More caught up with the severity. Worried.

“Wait,” Yoongi frowns, rubbing his neck as he connects everything verbally, “They weren’t going to change the contract like you wanted, so you decided not to renew. You’re just going to be there until your contract ends?” Rambling continues along while you just nod in response. Eventually your own hands come up to hold your jaw as you mutter,

“Oh, I fucked up. I messed up, didn’t I?”

“No,” Unconvinced you look at Yoongi whose head shakes instantly, though there’s nothing about how his eyes stare at you that help you believe the response. “No, no-- you deserve credit, Y/N. You really do.”

“I’m not getting credit for anything at SoundWave.” You mutter, letting yourself fall on your side into the couch, straying from Yoongi just so he wouldn’t catch the consistent nervousness invading your expression. “I have to find a company-- work in general for songwriting or production with a blank resume.” You inhale, counting the seconds as the air sits in your lungs.

In the short gap of response you recall how much Yoongi has had to do for you so far. Always comforting your screw ups and dealing with the remnant dissatisfaction in your previous relationship. Now you lie on your couch, ranting your problems again, and hoping for something in response. You don’t do enough for him at all, yet you still lean on him like it’s his job to help you out.

You didn’t want to tell him about the meeting because Yoongi’s nice and he’d give you advice, spend his energy worrying for you as well. You shouldn’t misuse his kindness, especially when he has plenty of other responsibilities for his own job. You exhale the air, scooting further from him to rest your head on the plush of the armrest, “Yoon, just forget it. I’ll figure it out on my own somehow, you don’t need to listen to all of this crap.”

Yoongi blinks, frowning in dissatisfaction of the apparent worry, and your misplaced desire to push him out of your affairs for fear of it being annoying. “I’m not obligated, Y/N.” He waits a second to hear a response but receives nothing more than your legs curling slightly towards your chest. His hand presses into the couch, torso arching as Yoongi scoots to lean over, “What’s wrong with telling me?”

“I always rant about things to you.” Your eyes evade his own, though you’re very aware of the closer proximity due to the shadow he casts over you. “And you’re always, like, I guess accommodating to all the problems I have, and I bet it’s so old by now. You’re tired from your plane ride and I’m just stressing you out more.”

“You have to get this out of your head that you’re troubling me because of any of this, angel.” Yoongi’s voice resembles starlight, and the sentiment exuding shines in little spurts across your senses. Your mouth tightens into a line, just returning the slightest glance because you’re unsure why he’s this sweet to you. “I can’t imagine how nerve-wracking this is for you, but it’s okay to let people help you.”

“Do-” You cut yourself off, sighing as you head shakes a little. It’s past the time when you should be asking what you want to ask, but it feels acceptable to go on as Yoongi simply stays silent. To help encourage you further, his free hand rest overtop of yours, working to cast warmth. “Do you think I messed up, Yoon?”

Despite the uncertainty, despite this being the biggest decision you could have made for your career, the line of questioning doesn’t cause Yoongi a lot of thought. One could blame the blind optimism or inherent positivity of his closeness to you that makes him assume your success from here on is sure, but he doesn’t think that deeply about it. After all that you’ve created and produced musically, he simply believes everything will be okay for you, so he shakes his head. Smiling gently as his hand squeezes yours, he says all you could want to hear in that moment,

“Not at all. You stood up for yourself. That’s never wrong.”

It takes only a moment for a smile to begin flowering on your face, more on account of Yoongi’s convicted gaze that maintains a softness that you’re starting to believe is an unconscious talent of his. Nodding slightly, you sigh letting yourself heed his perspective, if only as a means to make yourself try and think as optimistically. In the very least, if you were able to make a career out of music, albeit not under the best circumstances, then you have as much of a chance to do it again.

“Maybe I always tell you everything because you always say something to make me happier.” The audible ponder causes a tiny prickling of heat to crawl along the back of Yoongi’s neck then flourish more so as you shift beneath him, properly looking up at him with a sincere smile. The situation between your bodies travels closer to the forefront of his mind, but Yoongi’s cheeks speckle with pink only because of your words’ effect.

“I’m glad you think that.” Yoongi speaks quietly, rich timbre touched with a fluster. You nearly giggle at the fact, but the candylike tone of his proceeding admission causes your chest to swell, “I’ll always try to make you feel better, whenever you need me to.”

His words are sweet like honey, inciting summer to crawl along your complexion. You swallow nothing, just finding the gaze he returns to your eyes completely entrapping, but more so like that of a hug. Your heart could gush from just the pleasantness of his voice.

“Yoongi,” You find nothing to say following calling his name, so instead your hands escape his singular grip so that you can cover your face, hiding away the erupting blush. “You’re-” You groan without irritation, prompting Yoongi’s eyes to widen in confusion. His lips curl into an inquisitive frown, altogether taken aback back by your flustered state. “You’re dangerous-- you’re too sweet. I can’t even believe you.”

“What?” He chuckles at your senseless mumbles where you lie beneath him. “Dangerous and sweet, that doesn’t make sense.”

“Right?” You peek from beneath your hands, nodding. “You’re a contradiction.” Masked away from his view is your smile as Yoongi continues in chuckles. You feel his body growing limp, likely tired from holding himself up on one arm for the duration of the conversation, and then sleepy on account of his earlier plane ride. “You should take a little nap, at least. I’ll wake you up, promise.”

“You think so?” He questions your ability to wake him up though not actually intending to challenge you. Yoongi’s body inevitably sinks atop of your own, and he intends to shift away until your hand lies on his bicep comfortably. He bites his lip, suddenly undesiring of moving, especially as you hum an affirmative to his rhetorical ask. “Aren’t I heavy?” A testing whisper. Gauging if you’re as settled with the position as he finds himself to be.

“No, I don’t think you are.” You brush away his nerves unknowingly, finally finding your own courage to let your free hand mesh very gently into his bleached locks. Trying to soothe him into a quick slumber you guide your fingertips play around rhythmically, only ceasing for a moment as Yoongi’s waist shifts just so that he can rest more comfortably. Also ensuring that the majority of his body weight doesn’t press onto you, but that’s about all he can manage until the ministrations of your fingers in his hair lull him out completely.

---

“What are you so worried about?” Yoongi stares blankly at the computer screen while Hoseok’s question on speaker phone rings through his ears. Analyzing the final touches on the side project of potential songs he’s made with you over the past couple of months, he finds himself unsettled looking at them. Your name brightly pixelated in parenthesis beside each title, and it only serves to irritate Yoongi to continue seeing it.

Not that he ever planned to release these songs, but now that they’re done and he’s well into consideration for what could come for you at the end of the month when your contract is officially finished, Yoongi can’t avoid the negative association of their presence in his computer’s library.

“She doesn’t know what she’s going to do, and even if she’s as talented as she is, it’s fucking hard to get any noteworthy company to give her chance, Hoseok.” Yoongi sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his index finger. “I’m worried about her; she already shouldn’t be having to start over, but I can’t do anything to help her, and I couldn’t do anything to help you either.”

There’s a falter of replies, both parties finding themselves surprised at the final piece of the outburst.

“Yoongi-”

“I should’ve helped you.” The conversation shifts back into stagnation. Yoongi sighs again, rubbing his face as the expected reply comes after a long pause.

“I told you me getting fired is my own fault. You know the CEO already had crap against me. The situation with Seulgi just sealed the deal for him.” Hoseok’s voice reasons factually, as if those two simple reasons are enough to say being laid off from their old company makes any type of sense. “I don’t blame you for anything.”

“I do.” Yoongi doesn’t know if his voice is loud enough for Hoseok to hear, but he doesn’t repeat the admission. Recalling how simple it would’ve been to defend his friend, Yoongi taps his finger on his desk, then glances back up at his screen where your presence remains like a reminder of a year ago. Yet different from that time.

Yoongi feels no worry about his own career while he stares in thought of what to do about your own. Where he had to consider his actions in light of his stoic reputation in the public, he doesn’t think about that in the present. His manager would if Yoongi brought the issue up, likely be ready to shut down anything related to helping you in the eyes of the media and fans. Risking the long-running persona of SUGA for some unfortunate songwriter who made a misguided choice is impossible. Reasonably speaking, SUGA can’t help you without sticking the name in the middle of a potential scandal.

“It’s kind of funny hearing you so worried about her considering you only became friends from having to pretend to date.” Hoseok disrupts the stream of thought, bringing Yoongi back to reality. “She went and met you at the airport a couple of days ago, right? Saw it all over twitter.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi nods, then furrows his eyebrows at the memory of loud people and camera lenses in every direction around you as he walked into the lobby. “They made her go. Isn’t that fucked up? What if something happened?” He rubs his jaw, feet pushing him languidly side to side in his seat. “She’s not used to crowds like that-- it makes me mad-” Hoseok’s laughter stiffens Yoongi’s shoulders. Wondering what he said, Yoongi whines to cut into the laughter, “What?”

“You’re just really fond of her, huh?” Hoseok’s light voice makes Yoongi go quiet. Lips tighten into a line as he goes on. “I thought from the pictures that you became an actor overnight, but I guess that was really you being protective.”

Confused, Yoongi tilts his head in thought, trying to recall if he seemed particularly overbearing in the airport, but can only come to the conclusion that he had been trying to ensure you felt secure in the intense environment. He crosses his arms over his chest, humming when Hoseok questions aloud if the line went dead.

“What do you mean fond of her?”

“What?” Hoseok laughs again, but more so from amusement, spinning around in his desk chair on his side of the line, barely missing a collision with his knee on the corner of the table. “Bro, you know what I mean-”

“Wait,” Yoongi takes hold of his phone as loud thumping hits against his door followed by the ring of the doorbell. “I’ll talk to you later, I need to go.” Rolling his eyes at the dramatic, high-pitched whine Hoseok sends through the line, Yoongi ends the call, abandoning his phone on the desk as he gets up. Dotting through a quick list of potential visitors, he doesn’t recall anyone supposed to come, and knows it isn’t you because of your knowledge of the passcode.

“Hey,” One of the other producers greets Yoongi with a smile as he opens the door. A large, orange envelope in his hand waves into the air, “I was just bringing you some mail from the lobby while I was on the way to my desk.” He explains casually, prompting a nod from Yoongi albeit with smothered confusion on why the random producer is doing him a favor when they’ve barely ever worked together.

“Oh, thanks for that.” Yoongi sets aside the speculation, instead voicing appreciation as he takes the delivery.

“Yeah,” The guy’s reply falters, but Yoongi shakes it off to step back into his studio until the exchange continues further, “Actually, you’re close with Y/N now, right? Is it true she got fired?”

Inquisitive to the ear, but something deeper about the tone makes Yoongi’s eyebrows crease. He looks back towards the producer who meets his eyes with a now forced smile. Deciphering the intention as something negative, Yoongi’s head tilts in consideration of what he could be trying to get at. “Where’d you here that from?” “What? Oh,” He stutters, glancing towards the door frame as he shrugs, “You know, just gossip and all… I was just curious since she gets the most work, you know?”

Yoongi inhales remaining silent as he comes to understand this producer to be similar of a vulture. Likely others too are interested in receiving more work following your inevitable departure, but the insinuation of you being let go instead of quitting unsettles him. Irritating to hear. “I mean, it’s not just me curious,” He glances again away from Yoongi this time down the hallway where his eyes grow wide for a split second upon recognition, “Oh, like Jimin here-- hey, you’re wondering if Y/N got fired too, aren’t you?”

Yoongi steps a small step forward so he can lean his head and view down. Jimin appears confused at the question, hands in his pockets like he’d simply been walking to wherever.

“You heard she got fired, didn’t you-”

“Stop saying that.” Yoongi cuts into the producers loud voice, slicing them with an annoyed grit clinging to his words. “She didn’t get fired.” His arms cross over one another, envelope hitting against his side as he does so. Jimin’s movement causes Yoongi’s gaze to shift back towards him, expression etched with his upset temperment from the rude gossiping.

Jimin doesn’t say anything, slow steps like that of someone on a stroll, intending to walk past them both. The producer shifts a little distance away from Yoongi’s calm and heavy glare, watching with a stupor at the disposition that originally he hadn’t expected as a reaction to his questioning.

“It was just a question,” He mutters then nearly bites his tongue when Yoongi snaps his eyes back, “I just think it’d be pretty good for the company to vary more, that’s all-- she just works in the background anyways, it’s not like anyone would notice.”

“Hey,” Jimin interrupts the trail of irritated rebuttals about to leave Yoongi’s lips, eyes fixating into a glare towards the fidgeting producer, “She does more for the company than any of us do, so why don’t you stop talking shit and go actually work on something?”

“I,” The producer bites his lip, glancing nervously between Jimin and Yoongi, before nodding his head, “Yeah,” He turns on his heel, then startles backwards a few paces towards Jimin, eyes widening. “Oh, Y/N-”

The tension in Yoongi’s expression releases, stepping forward to let his studio door shut, revealing you barely more than a few feet from the three of them with two members of a girl group looking increasingly shocked and curious at the conversation at hand. He stays quiet, wondering how much of the guy’s stupidity you heard, but as he takes in your narrowed eyes he can freely assume enough.

“I didn’t get fired, I quit.” You say simply, voice devoid of civility. Glancing from the completely embarrassed producer to Yoongi then Jimin, you just sigh. Though you were aware this questioning would come eventually, you expected something more decent than gossip about people wanting to shift into your spot the second you leave the company. The two girls around you voice shocked questioning, but you pay no mind to them, “Next time you want to try gossiping about me, just ask me yourself; this is so ridiculous going behind my back for your own selfish gain.”

Jimin steps to the side as the producer nearly collides with him as he paces back another step, “You’re right, I’m sorry-- really.” You just scoff, watching him quickly scamper down the hallway so nothing more could be said.

“Wait, Y/N, you’re really leaving?” The youngest of the girl group members asks you with surprise, frown covering up her face. You just rub your face, nodding,

“Yeah, sorry; I have stuff to do.” You mumble in reply feeling a headache ready to come on from this whole stupid situation that is no doubt going to become increasingly invasive as this situation gets talked about around the company. You step towards Yoongi, turning to smile apologetically to the two girls, “It’s not a big deal, sorry.”

You hear the familiar sound of a clicking keypad and find the door opening as Yoongi takes the hint to let you inside. He steps inside first, holding the door open with his hand, as you go to follow and find yourself looking towards Jimin. Devoid of much expression his head just nods in a silent greeting to you and your find yourself doing the same without really noticing, going on to murmur quietly, “Thanks for speaking up for me, Jimin.”

Then you enter into Yoongi’s studio, realizing as the door clicks shut that Jimin finally did what you thought he never wanted to. Where in the past he’s only ever stood by silently while the company uses you to its own benefit, he today defended you without any need. Though you have no way of reasoning why he suddenly found it necessary to speak on your behalf, you find the fact that it occured a startling mixture of thankfulness and comfort.

Only it came too late.

if you enjoy please, please let me know via ask, comment, rb with tags– however ! i’d just really appreciate feedback 🥺 i hope you enjoy the series, i’m working really hard on it! : )

tag list (send an ask to be added): @jaiuneamesolitaiire @tsvkino-usagi @xionysus @baebyjoonie @honeyoongles

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vagabcnds · 4 years

Text

i have tossed around making this post for months now, gone back and forth with myself and my friends about if it would even be worth posting this. honestly, i don’t know if telling my side of this is going to do any good, but i think it’s time that i added some more information to this whole situation so that even more people can see that our friends (and i use that term with as much sarcasm as possible) @seattlehqrpg , as well as her other rp @canterlotislandhq , have not changed, and will not change. this is indeed another psa about this woman, but with some more information and one on one conversations with the woman.

hey hi, hello, so, my name is maig, i’ve been around the rpc for over a decade, and right now you might recognize my multifandom : @hiddenwashington . we’re an appless multifandom that i started up two years ago. and over those two years, we have dealt with jasmine, jazzy, jackie, jacqueline, whatever j name she wants to call herself this time, on and off, for that duration.

and just to clear up some information from other psas, i do not believe this is the same nova/jazzy that was terrorizing groups last year with attacking and fighting admins. we’ve spoken with j multiple times, as well as jazzy/nova, and honestly i can tell for sure these are not the same people. unfortunately, there is more than one bad egg in the rpc.

i have a ton of screenshots, so forgive me for not using them all. a link to a google drive will be at the end of this, for all of the screenshots i have of stolen asks, interactions, etc. but i’ll just be using key information for this specific post. or else we’ll be here all day.

when we first encountered j (we’ll just use “j” for now since she focuses on whatever name we call her more than the content of the psas. and all her aliases start with it idk), we thought she was just another person who wanted to join but sort of went about it the wrong way. we first got an anon on the main, asking if our current ginny (that being me) would be willing to give her up. because j wanted to play her.

we had gotten an anon asking about if we were welcoming towards people with social anxiety (or something like that. it’s been two years now since this all happened so specifics are a little fuzzy. like i said we’ve been dealing with her for so long.) i pretty much hit her with “i’m not willing to drop her because i still want to play her but hmu on my character account and we can chat about other characters for you to play”. i had no idea that answering it would lead us down this rabbit hole i’m writing about today. we sorta chatted, she kinda just rambled to me about how she wanted to write someone not like her so she could have a challenge. valid. i tried helping out, i didn’t really know what fandoms she was into so i said what i could and then went onto the main. when i got back onto my account, she had taken it upon herself to critique my portrayal of ginny, asking if she would ever say ‘dick’. she kept messaging me, sandwiching that comment between other questions. i told her i didn’t appreciate unsolicited critiques. i tried to move past it but she kept at me about it. telling me she hadn’t read the books in 10 years. and only read one. the last one, in 3 hours. idk overall it was a weird conversation and i sort of thought that was the end of it.

honestly, i’m not gonna spend a TON of time on this already too long psa going on about every interaction we had with her, every crazy thing she said. most importantly, we accepted her in, thinking she was just a little wild but us talking to her covered it. she ended up going in active over easter or spring break or something, wanted to take up another character, we told her to wait to pick her activity up. ya know, standard admin business. and then she started attacking us. telling us we didn’t care about her, about what she went through not having a computer or whatever. she started sending us anons about how her friend stole her money and we don’t care about her and we all hate her so why should she stay. it was kinda insane. again, check the google doc for all that. she ended up leaving, we got some anons about how she never joined other rps because of admins like us. just random things here and there, some anons about how dare we talk to people like we did. just random shit that really only she could come up with. but we had an rp to run, lives to get on with, tv shows to binge, idk fam. life goes on.

honestly, we sort of forgot about this whole mess for like close to a year? that was when we started getting ims. from her. we knew bc it was the same accounts as before. she uses the same ones over and over, it’s easy to keep track of her. it’s sort of why we never felt the need to bring anything up, we always thought she was just stealing from us and we knew when it was her and when to refuse to accept the questions. this is where we enter phase two of hidden’s journey with “j” : the thief.

this is one of our earliest encounters. before she started sending them on anon.

(for some quick context, she would send us questions for fcs, ask if a character was open and then go around trying to poach our members for her group)

tw suicidal thoughts for this next picture

honestly this goes on for like 10 more pictures, so instead of spamming here, the full conversation is in the google drive under the folder : a fight that almost was

she eventually goes on to call me out as the admin talking to her, i tell her again to message me off the main so that we could get back to actually admining our group. she hits me up, calls me “a cute ginny mun”, and then proceeds to ask me to help her fill out Her Own Application for ginny for her own group!!

the tiktok video of “did a full one eightyyy” is all that is going through my head from this specific encounter.

anyways. this is when the stealing really amped up, for not just us, but for the entire rpc. around this time, we had stupidly let her back into the group, i had wanted to keep my eye on her personally. see what she was stealing from the inside. idk i was dumb. this is also around the time the first psa about her came around.

enter, phase three. it’s similar to phase two, but this time, “j” must tell everyone she is in fact Not A Thief™

so, during this time, it was around may of last year? while she was in the group, she started stealing more, we were catching her in the act, and we eventually had to kick her out of hidden. it’s not really a shock but ya know. gotta do what you gotta do.

she was going by jasmine at the time. anyways. this is also before her current group @seattlehqrpg , when she still had @manilahq and @forgottenfriendshiphq or whatever she changed that too. she was getting a ton of “hate” over there. mainly anons telling her to stop stealing from other creators. valid.

anyways, she would blame us for all of the stealing, that we were the true thieves. idk we were her scapegoats for a long time. i can confirm to you all now, i have never, nor have any of my admins, sent her any messages to steal fcs or anything to “attack” her. honestly we try to forget she exists but she just makes it so hard to ignore her with all of this.

anyways, this has been our song and dance with “j” for a while now. we get an anon, we answer, she steals from us in a matter of hours. i’m sure everyone can attest to that similar situation. i mean, here’s just like a couple instances. i have hundreds in the google docs, dating back years. this behavior doesn’t change.

i mean, she has even gone as far as to steal our plot. sure, it’s not exactly original. every multifandom somehow brings all these characters to a city by magic or something. but the mention of the witch, the alternate universe city, the memories. it just all around reads plagiarism.

so, check the google doc for more evidence i guess if you really need to!

but, some things we’ve noticed, beyond her just stealing asks and plots and EVENTS ??? AND NOW TASKS ??? check out this post for the tasks, and this other psa for the event. because that shit is so fucked.

she has also straight up stolen replies and claimed them as her own. my friend and fellow admin, was in her rp for a hot minute, and played pacifica northwest. (some information is crossed out for privacy) this was from us talking about the plagiarism, of her stealing from my friend while “j” was in hidden, which we both admin.

this is her post

and this is "j”’s, while she was in hidden.

i mean, same gif and everything friends.

she constantly goes on about how she doesn’t look at other rps, how she doesn’t have time, that she’s running five other groups, but honey, we’re running those groups for you with all the stealing!! i mean, just as further proof that she is constantly looking at other groups, including hidden, to an obsessive amount. a member left her group (who then went and joined us we believe), and this was her unfollow for them. (i feel so sorry for that member to be called out like this?? how uncomfortable do you have to make your former and current members???)

and hidden’s character count that same day ??? coincidence, i think not.

listen, this isn’t meant to stir up more drama, i know it will and that’s kinda why i put this off. everyone had sort of said what needed to be said? it didn’t feel necessary to repeat the same shit we all knew. but with more of this happening, with her stealing plots, tasks and events. it felt like this was the time to strike, to get this awareness back up. she needs to stop, and if we all ban together, maybe we can stop it? i don’t know. but i have hope that this can all change if we have each other’s backs.

this has been hiddenwashington’s side of the story, i’m sure there are still more groups out there with stories or stolen asks. and i am sorry to anyone who has had to deal with her. but just, do yourselves a favor and look out for anyone with a j alias, 21+. she/her, from pst. who also uses “RPG” a lot.

a lot of this stuff is old, but she’s still doing this in @seattlehqrpg i just grabbed these screenshots because it’s what i had on hand. but anyways. here is the link to the google drive with all of our screenshots we have complied.

if you have any questions, comments, concerns, what have you: my inbox (including anons), ims and everything are open and i am more than happy to chat!! please come talk with me about anything!!!

stay safe, and thanks for joining me on this season of To Catch a Plagiarizer.

#psa #rpc #rpt #multifandom rp #fandom rp #rph #rpc psa #personal.#about hidden #long post tw #this is literally so long i pray for all of you who read it #seattlehqrpg

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vincent-frankenstein · 4 years

Note

Oooo!! Could you do "I think our house is haunted" with any (or all?) of the sides?

YOU BET YOUR SKELETON I CAN

(i had so much fun writing this that im probably going to write a part two so dont get too stressed over the cliffhanger, there’ll be more in 10-12 business months when i can wrangle my creativity long enough to focus on this again)

Title: Touch-Tone Telephone (Disbelieving, That’s The Real Crime)

Summary: Roman’s apartment is haunted.

He knows there’s something sinister in their house, something deep and dark and dreadful, and he knows he can stop it, if only his roommates would help. If only they believed him.

But his search for proof brings him face-to-face with something more horrifying than he’d ever expected. Can he survive, faced with the specter of the brother he never knew?

Warnings: ghosts, disturbing imagery (but only for one sentence near the end), knives, sleep paralysis, generally just Spooky Vibes™ also sympathetic deceit and unsympathetic remus

Gen Taglist (ask to be added or removed!): @joygaytrash @ruh-roh-emer-has-an-account @aliferous-ly @im-crunchie @triton-bear @emiisanidiot @jemthebookworm

It was a cold October evening when Roman gathered his roommates in the living room for one of those fam-ILY meetings Patton seemed so fond of. He sat atop his “throne” — a worn crimson armchair he’d had for years — and crossed his hands in his lap, his face set and solemn. His roommates shifted where they sat — some uncomfortably, worriedly, others just confused.

“I assume you’re all wondering why I’ve gathered you here,” Roman said, with the grim air of someone about to impart life-changing news.

Cecil rolled his eyes, sarcasm burning on his tongue. “No, no, Roman,” he simpered, his voice slow and insincere. “Whatever gave you that idea?”

Virgil elbowed him in the side, and Cecil abandoned his sarcasm in favor of wheezing in pain.

“Cecil, this is serious,” Roman said seriously. “What I’m about to tell you will change our lives forever. It may even ruin them.”

“Oh gosh, are you —” Patton cut off with a gasp of horror, his hand flying to his mouth. “Are you sick? Are you hurt?”

Virgil’s face grew pale. Or, well, paler than usual, which was a significant feat, because Roman hadn’t thought that was possible. “Princey, I swear to fu —”

“Language,” Cecil and Logan said in unison, the former reaching to cover Patton’s innocent ears. Virgil growled.

“I swear to Gerard Way, if you die on us —”

“No!” Roman cried, holding up his hands. “I’m not sick!”

“Then what is going on?” Logan asked, sitting forward. “This needless drama is only causing Virgil and Patton unnecessary stress.”

“’Needless’? ‘Unnecessary’?” Roman gasped with over-dramatic offense, an over-dramatic hand pressed against his chest in shock. “Au contraire, ye of little faith. I come bearing news of the most heinous caliber. News that could shock each of you to your very cores, news that —”

“Oh for the love of — spit it out already!” Cecil growled, slamming his hand down on the arm of the couch and making Patton jump.

Roman leaned forward, allowing just enough time to pass, just enough stress to up the shock-value. “I think our house is haunted.”

His words had the exact effect he’d hoped for: profound, reverent silence. Logan sat back, his face set in a serious scowl as he pondered Roman’s words. Virgil and Cecil shared a look, both faces set as stone. Patton leaned forward, his eyebrows furrowing. Roman basked in their shared awe, pride blooming in his chest despite the grim nature of their situation.

Logan snorted, and the moment shattered. Virgil and Cecil both burst out laughing, clutching their stomachs with twin looks of glee. Patton was the only one who didn’t laugh, though the corners of his mouth twitched.

Roman scoffed. “What, might I ask, is so funny? I’m being serious!”

“Mhm,” Logan hummed, raising an eyebrow. “And what exactly is it that makes you believe our house is haunted?”

“I’ve been hearing noises, every night, after everyone’s gone to bed. Footsteps, doors opening and closing, muffled, moaning voices. There’s a shadowy figure that has passed my bedroom door several times, bringing with it a feeling of utter dread.”

Cecil rolled his eyes. “That’s just Virgil,” he said, earning another elbow in the side that left him wheezing all over again.

“No!” Roman cried. “It absolutely is not Virgil! It’s all hunched and baggy and strange, like — like some sort of ghoul.”

Virgil shrugged. “As much as I’d love to live in a haunted house — and as much as I hate agreeing with Cecil — he’s probably right. I go downstairs for midnight snacks all the time.”

“At five in the morning?”

Virgil shrugged again.

“No,” Roman insisted. “I don’t buy it. There’s something — something bad in this house.”

“There are five people in this household,” Logan countered. “How do you explain the fact that none of us have ever seen it?”

“I-I don’t know! Maybe it’s only showing itself to me?” Roman shook his head, scowling. “I should’ve known you wouldn’t believe me. You wouldn’t believe in ghosts if there was one right in front of you.”

“Falsehood,” Logan said. “Given proper evidence of such a thing, I would have no choice but to believe. However, you have provided no evidence beyond your own experiences, which, while strange, can be easily explained.”

“’Easily explained’? How? And don’t tell me it’s Virgil.”

“It could be any one of us,” Logan said, “including Virgil. You cannot expect a household of five to remain perfectly silent throughout the night. The fact that you hear footsteps and doors opening and closing means nothing, and the shadowy figure is most likely one of us passing by your door on the way to the bathroom.”

“And the feeling of dread?” Roman asked, eyes narrowed. “It’s the most awful feeling in the world. It sits on my chest and it’s so heavy I can barely breathe. Unless one of you is capable of doing that —”

“Like I said, that’s just Virgil,” Cecil said, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a smirk. “Feelings of dread are his specialty.”

Virgil readied his elbow, and Cecil reached behind himself and snatched up a pillow, whacking Virgil across the face. With a feral growl, Virgil lunged, and the two rolled off the couch and onto the floor, pillows flying, laughter laced beneath their mocking voices.

“Hey, c’mon,” Patton said, holding the table steady as the two roughhoused beneath it. Cecil kicked Virgil into the table, and Patton’s glass of hot cocoa nearly toppled. “Hey!”

“Enough,” Logan said, eyes narrowed. When the two didn’t listen, he stood, and Roman and Patton both covered their ears. “Enough!” he yelled, at a volume loud enough to rival an airplane taking off, and the two leaped apart. Logan sat back down, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“Roman, what you are experiencing is purely psychological,” he said, once again the epitome of calm. Virgil rubbed at his ears, shoulders hunched. “Shadowy figures, a feeling of dread, and a weight on your chest can all be explained by sleep paralysis, which is —”

“I know what sleep paralysis is!” Roman said. “It absolutely was not that. I hadn’t even fallen asleep yet! And I could move.”

“Alright,” Logan said, nodding, “then it is just your mind playing tricks on you. Halloween is a handful of days away. Tell me, how many horror movies have you seen so far this month?”

Roman glared at the floor. “… Quite a few,” he admitted.

“Right. And how many horror festivals have you been to?”

“Three.”

“Mhm.” Logan readjusted his glasses, his eyes glittering smugly. “You see one of us pass your doorway, and, believing us to be some creature of supernatural origin, you begin to panic. However, you’ve mistaken that panic for a ghostly feeling of dread brought on by some malevolent outside force. The amount of horror you’ve consumed in the past few weeks has primed your brain for a haunting. You’re jumping to conclusions.”

“I am not!” Roman insisted. “I know what a panic attack feels like, Logan. This isn’t it. Something’s wrong, and — and I’ll prove it to you!”

“How?”

Roman stood. “You’ll see. I’ll get proof, and I’ll make you all believe.”

“Aw, I believe you, kiddo!” Patton said, his smile wide and earnest. Roman managed a smile back.

“Thanks, padre,” he said. Patton’s support, while appreciated, didn’t do much to lessen the righteous fury he felt at Logan’s dismissal. It was like a participation trophy — always there, whether you were right or not. He wanted first place, the golden medallion of Logan’s belief — and he was going to get it.

“Good luck, Dib No-Brain,” Virgil said, offering a sarcastic thumbs up. “Now that that’s outta the way, next order of business: who the fu —”

“Language.”

“— heck has been stealing my eyeshadow?”

Roman tuned out the conversation — which was boring, and overly predictable, really. He already knew who had stolen Virgil’s eyeshadow, but he’d never confess. It looked so much better on him. Besides, he had more important things to think about.

He knew he was right. Logan’s explanations made sense — of course they did, everything that asshole said made sense — but he couldn’t explain away the awful feeling Roman had. It wasn’t a panic attack, or sleep paralysis. It was something darker, colder than any of them could fathom, and it seemed he alone had to shoulder the weight.

Night fell, and Roman prepared for battle. With a camera as his shield and a vial of holy water — a gift from his cousin, Remy, who was as superstitious as he was sassy — as his sword, he sat on the edge of his bed and waited.

And waited.

The house was silent. Not a floorboard creaked, not a door moved, not a creature stirred. He’d drained his 12-hour supply of coffee roughly three hours in, and now his head nodded down towards his chest, eyes fluttering, sleep chasing away the last dregs of caffeine in his bloodstream.

What a waste of time. Logan was right — he was always right, really, could he be any more insufferable? There weren’t any ghosts; their house wasn’t haunted. Roman dragged a hand across his face, a heavy sigh falling from his lips. He was wrong again, too imaginative, too overdramatic, too —

Footsteps. There were footsteps in the hallway. There were footsteps in the hallway and by the time Roman stopped fumbling with his camera and managed to lift it, the shadowy figure had appeared, a baggy mass of darkness that stopped in his doorway and —

And laughed?

Wait. He knew that laugh. A small snort, stifled behind a hand, as if the act of laughing alone was enough to indict him as a human being and therefore must be hidden at all costs. “Don’t tell me you’ve been awake this entire time, Roman,” Logan said, stepping into the room with a thick blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

“It was you,” Roman said lowly, his voice thick with ultimate betrayal. “This whole time! It was you!”

Logan readjusted his glasses. “Well, not entirely,” he said. “I’m sure Virgil contributed to your hypothesis at some point, he tends to wander the house during the night. However, I wasn’t doing this intentionally to scare you.”

“Bullshit,” Roman scoffed. “Why didn’t you say anything? I’ve been up all night!”

“I did say something, Roman. I told you that your ‘shadowy figure’ was merely one of us passing your doorway. I could have reiterated, but…” The ghost of a smirk passed his face. “I didn’t want to miss the opportunity to see you like this.”

Roman promptly threw his pillow at Logan’s face. Logan dodged. What an asshole.

“So is that the only reason you came down here? To see me suffer?” Roman placed a hand against his chest, shaking his head. “I never thought you capable of such cruelty. I guess I’m just wrong about everything these days!”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “You are not the only reason I came down,” he said, “and you’re not wrong about everything. Just several, inconsequential things.”

“Thanks,” Roman deadpanned. “Why did you come down, then?”

“For Crofters.”

“Oh. Of course.” Roman grabbed his pillow from the floor and set his camera on his bedside table, rolling his eyes. “Go ahead. Leave me to my shame. Enjoy your jelly.”

He flopped down on his side, hugging the pillow to his chest, and heaved a long, pitiful sigh. Logan hesitated in the doorway, closing his eyes and breathing in for a long three seconds. “Roman,” he said. “Would you… perhaps, care to join me?”

Wow. Sure, Roman had been angling for Logan to offer, but he hadn’t expected the nerd to actually do it. His guilt-trips only ever worked on Patton, and occasionally Virgil, once in a blue moon and every other holiday. First time for everything, he supposed.

“I. Uh. Sure?” He stood, still holding his pillow to his chest. “Only if I get the last of the concord jelly.”

Logan shot him a look. “Absolutely not. Die.”

Roman collapsed against the wall, clutching his chest, head lolling, eyes rolling back into his head. “Agh! Sweet embrace of death, come so soon to gather me into Her arms! How could this beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee~”

He dropped to the floor, onto his hands and knees, and fell sideways, a heap of limp limbs. When he was sure his performance was enough, he released his final breath. Logan blinked down at him, unimpressed, and kicked him in the side as he passed.

“Fine!” Roman called after him. “You’re not invited to my funeral!”

Logan flipped him off without even looking back. What an asshole.

Roman shoved himself to his feet and scrambled after him, mind set. He was going to get that jelly before Logan could even blink, and he wasn’t going to share a single drop of it. That’d teach him to ignore Roman’s acting gold.

He slid past Logan and rushed into the kitchen, not realizing that Logan had stopped in the doorway, not noticing the dread that settled deep in his bones until he slid to a hasty stop, a sharp gasp flying from his lips.

“Oh,” he squeaked. His heart attempted gymnastics in his chest and only succeeded in lodging in his throat, choking away every attempt at a response Roman could possibly give.

There was a knife.

Floating in midair.

There was a knife floating in midair and really, a sight like that should have sent him running, but there was a knife floating in midair and it wasn’t supposed to do that and simply the shock alone was enough to lock his legs in place. He glanced around; surely there were strings, somewhere. Surely the others were pranking him. Surely —

The knife was moving.

“Logan,” he managed, in a voice several dozen octaves higher than usual. “Logan, please tell me you’re seeing this, please —”

“I —” Logan tried to speak several times. His voice failed, words cutting out again and again. “I — Yes. That’s — mhm. Yep.”

The knife was floating away from them, thank god, and Roman couldn’t help but watch, mesmerized. “What do we do?” he hissed, and he could practically feel Logan struggling to find an answer. He was speechless — the great Logan Sanders, king of Being Insufferable, had been stricken speechless, and Roman didn’t even have the time to enjoy it. “Do… Do we call an exorcist?”

And wow was that the wrong thing to say, because the haunted-demon-ghost-knife heard him, and it whipped around in midair — and suddenly a figure appeared around it, and Roman collapsed backward, wheezing, the weight on his chest so suddenly heavy that he couldn’t draw a single breath. Logan looped his arms through Roman’s and held tight, his own breathing sharp and erratic.

The figure — tall, horrible, green, a rotting face, the barest wisps of a mustache above a skeletal smile, and eyes that Roman recognized, eyes that had stared him down in the mirror every day since he’d been born, his eyes, the ghost had his eyes — grinned, raising the knife. Roman couldn’t breathe.

“Boo.”

#sanders sides #roman sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #deceit sanders #remus sanders #ts deceit #sympathetic deceit #ts remus #unsympathetic remus #(for now ;3c)#basically this au is like. the sides are all a Found Fambly living in the same apt #a bunch of dumbasses platonically in love who may or may not have a ghost join their littol family sometime in the future :3c #celeste's portfolio #ts-touch-tone-telephone au #Anonymous

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cilldaracailin · 4 years

Text

Under Pressure

This is something I have been writing while I have been stuck on lock down as I suddenly find myself with a lot of time on my hands. I have been writing fanfiction since I was a teenager and have just got into Tumblr, even though I have had this account for a while. Decided it was time to put it to use and post my story here.

I have also posted it in AO3 and you can find it here:http://www.archiveofourown.org/works/23570293/chapters/56548318

I know fanfiction helps me escape ‘reality’ for a little while, so this is my escape. I hope it can help anyone who reads it escape for a little white too.

*Disclaimer - It’s a complete work of fiction. I have never met Taron or Richard and I have done my best with all the information but as I said, it’s fiction*

“The 12-step chocolate program: NEVER BE MORE THAN 12 STEPS AWAY FROM CHOCOLATE!”

“Milk duds or caramel m&m’s?” she asked herself as she stared at the selection of chocolate in the 7/11.

“What?”

“Oh, sorry Claire.” Robyn turned her attention back to the phone which was balanced between her right shoulder and her ear. “I am looking at the what chocolate I am going to stuff my face with tonight.”

“Last day was that bad, huh?”

“Ugh, don’t even go there. I swear, this whole exchange experience would have been perfect if it hadn’t of been for ‘Christina’. Fuck it, I am getting both and Mike and Ike’s and turtles. I need about five packets of turtles.”

“Turtles? Ro, focus!”

“Shit sorry Claire.” Robyn threw a pack of normal and sour Mike and Ike’s into her basket, as well as two packets of milk duds and a packet of caramel m&m’s before she went looking for the red packaging of turtles, her definite go to chocolate while living in The States. “Everyone else in the day care were amazing as you know,” she continued, holding the phone back into her right hand, the basket now hanging in the crook of her elbow of the same arm. “I just don’t know what Christina’s problem was. She knew I was there in a supervisory position and she still just gave me grief and stirred shit. Ohhh white chocolate m&m’s, I’ll have those too.”

Her friend chuckled on the other end of the phone. “Robyn, come on, step away from the chocolate for two minutes.”

“Oh yes crisps! Of course, genius Claire.” She moved down the aisle towards the shelving which held all the many packets of chips and pulled three red bags of Doritos off the shelf and let them tumble into the basket on her arm.

“Not what I meant.”

“Ice cream!”

“Do you want to have a sugar coma on the plane home tomorrow?”

Robyn sighed. “No, I really don’t.”

“Then put the crisps back.” Reluctantly, Robyn put the three bags of crisps she had grabbed back onto the shelf, listening to her best friends’ advice. “Now you can keep the chocolate because you can give me some when we meet but seriously, what happened? I know you. You are avoiding the subject which means something really terrible happened or something really terrible happened.”

Robyn gently dropped the basket onto the ground, stood in the confectionary aisle and turned her attention to her friend, while leaning on a waist high steel basket that was selling scented candles. “Right so I have no idea what got into her head, but she thought it was a wonderful idea to have all thirty-three children out in the garden at the same time, with only two staff members, while the third staff member stayed inside and completed some paper work as Christina told her it was perfectly fine to do that. Thirty-three of them with two staff members! No thought for the children’s safety or our ratios. I went out to speak to her immediately, asking where Judith was, explaining for the millionth time that she, Christina, knows that many children cannot be outside at once and she rolled her eyes at me. Rolled her eyes Claire!” Robyn’s tone was full of disgust. “And of course, as soon as I went to get my teacher stare and voice on, one of the children who was on a motorbike, lost his balance and went straight into the stone wall.”

“No!”

“Oh yes and what did Christina do?”

“Do I want to even know?”

“Told poor little Kevin to get up and walk it off. Jesus, Claire I lost it. I actually let my temper get the better of me and I lost it with her, for about three seconds until I realised that poor little Kevin’s forehead was pumping blood and he was in hysterics.”

“Oh, shit no,”

“Oh, shit yes. I’m only glad I stay calm in a bloody crisis because Louise just stood there staring at the calamity unfolding in front of her and Christina starting freaking out over the blood and despite the noise outside, Judith stayed where she was inside doing paperwork. Then the manager came out during this whole episode to see me holding my hand to Kevin’s head, trying to stop the bleeding, while comforting him, Louise still standing frozen staring and Christina now yelling at me for causing the whole incident outside. Serious shitstorm in a bottle.” Robyn had picked up her basket and walked over towards the fridges, while retelling the drama that had unfolded that morning, opened the door to take out a bottle of mountain dew and put it in her basket.

“Don’t tell me she tried to blame it all on you.”

“Oh tried…” Robyn put her basket back down and on the ground. “…and thought she had succeeded until, Regina, the manager, piped up to say that we, me and her, had been in an exit meeting in the office and both had seen the children playing in the garden in such high numbers on the security camera and she had asked me to go and out and see why it was so and then she also saw the scene Christina was creating and how Kevin had fallen off his bike as there were too many children in the garden. I knew I always like Regina. She always had my back.”

“What about Kevin.”

“Thankfully he was ok. There was a lot of blood, but that was to be expected with a head wound, but thankfully it wasn’t actually that bad. The cut was much smaller than I had anticipated. I cleaned him up and patched him up but had already called his parents and they came and picked him up. Brought him to the doctors to get checked out. They rang as I left work, he will be just fine. They glued the little wound back together and are keeping an eye on him but he will be absolutely fine and hopefully there shouldn’t be a scar either.”

“Well you have had an eventful last day.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Hence the absurd amount of chocolate.”

“Absolutely. My plan is to go home, put on my pyjama’s, finish packing, order my last American pizza, stuff myself stupid on junk food and watch movies that involve some form of a gorgeous looking man.”

“I think that is a perfect plan but please tell me the other girls in the day care were sorry to see you go. I mean it has been the last six months of your life and you were their supervisor.”

Robyn sighed. “It’s been a dream. I have enjoyed it all Claire, you know I have. It has been an incredible experience and the other staff were amazing. I have made some great friends. We had a laugh while working together, taught each other a lot and we definitely enjoyed our last night out together last weekend. It has been such a great programme to get the opportunity to be involved in and to be in Clearwater Florida of all places to do it? You know I love this place. Christina may have been a serious pain in my arse but everyone else has been so lovely and not to mention teaching all the kids. It was so hard to say goodbye to them today. I think I have cried about four times before I actually left the building.”

“I can only imagine but you are back to work here on Monday, right?”

“Yep, I have been speaking to Emma in creche and we are looking forward to bringing some of the ideas I have been working with here into our creche setting. We are going to develop a plan on it once I get settled back in.”

“Yeah into the cold and the rain.” Robyn laughed at her friend’s glumness. “Hope you are going to enjoy your last morning of beautiful sunshine tomorrow.”

Robyn looked down at her sun kissed arms, six months in Florida helping her skin become a dark golden-brown colour, which she knew would be gone in an instant once she was home. “I shall be at the beach first thing, if I survive my sugar coma.” She looked in her basket. “Yeah I need to put some of this back on the shelf.”

“No keep it!” laughed Claire. “I was serious when I said bring it home to me. I can’t wait to see you on Sunday. I will definitely eat those milk duds.” Robyn laughed too. “At least back home you won’t have to see Christina any more.”

“Thank fuck for that. I am looking forward to getting back into my routine at home. Back in my office and chair.”

“So, what movie are you going to watch for your last night in Florida?”

“Do you know, I have been itching to watch Rocketman again.”

“Again?”

“It’s a beautiful movie and come on, it’s the music of Elton John.” Robyn moved in closer to the fridge to make some room as two men walked past her down through the aisle, pushing her basket in with her foot.

“Oh, and nothing to do with a certain leading male, yeah?”

“Shut up Claire.”

“Shut up Claire,” mimicked her friend.

“You know I went to see that movie because of Elton John and his music not because of the male lead and it also happened to be released on my birthday so it was my birthday treat.”

“Yeah alright, but how many movies of Taron’s did you watch after? Hmmm?”

“Ah here, Eddie the Eagle is cute and so endearing and it has Hugh Jackman in it and you know I love him and have done since his Oklahoma days and…”

“… and you also watched Robin Hood and Kingsman and…”

“And I have to go Claire!” Robyn grinned into the phone. “This junk will not buy itself and I need to find those damn turtles.”

“Ro come on!”

“I will text you this evening Claire and I will see you on Sunday.”

“But Ro…”

“I love you, you tosspot!”

“Ugh hate you.”

“Bye Claire.”

“Have fun with your turtles and Taron!”

Robyn laughed as she ended the call, knowing there would be a text message within the next thirty seconds from her best friend from home, calling her out for hanging up on her. As much as she enjoyed the last six months of her life and the experiences it brought, good and bad, she could not wait to get back home to real green grass, rain and some cold weather, her crazy best friend and her own bed in her apartment. Florida had been enlightening and enjoyable but Ireland was home.

Finally finding the red packets of turtles near the cash registers, Robyn picked up five packets and threw them in her basket, before waiting in line to be checked out.

#taron egerton #taron egerton fanfiction #ricahrd maden #love and friendship #angst #fluff #swearing #minor violence #blood and injuries #love fanfiction

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ask-deus-romano · 5 years

Text

|| So, this is going to be a little different from my other posts. Or anything I thought I’d ever have to post. But some things need to be said.

I’m going to cut to the chase, this is a little well..callout post towards one of the bigger content creators in the spamano side of the fandom. Romanope to be exact. I want to make very clear that I do not have grudge against this person and I do not want people to go after her. So, why am I doing this? First of all, I’m not doing this to be mean or to start shit, though I know it’s going to be unavoidable. But like I mentioned before, some things just need to be said. I am fully aware that I am most likely going to get a good handful of death threats and hate anons for speaking up, but I am fully prepared. Someone needs to take the bullet, right? So, first of all my personal issue with Kota would be..stealing my design. And making profit off of it. I started working on a cosplay of prince!Romano/Spain back in 2017. Hours of work. The costume was my everything. My pride and joy.

I truly worked hard on it. Well, as time passed, I thought of selling my work, and Kota was interested. I explained my details to her. How the collar and sleeves had rose patterned lace, everything. Only to see this not too long after.

Kota’s prince!Romano design which was..dangerously similar to mine. Even down to the rose lace in the collar and sleeves. I was..hurt at the time. But I was afraid of saying anything. I didn’t want to cause a fire, you know? I still don’t.

Well, would you look at that. It’s her tictail page, selling adorable little keychains with..a strangely familiar design. Again, it hurt. It’s been bothering me for a hot minute now. I just..don’t think this is right? And this isn’t the only time this has happened. But that is a whole another can of worms. However, this isn’t only about me. I thought if I was going to do this, I should at least let people know what’s really going on with this person. How she treats people and characters. Because most people seem to look away whenever things like this happen and I’m tired of that. So, I talked to multiple people who I will not name for the sake of their privacy..and I made a list of things that should be noted about her. - Doesn’t take criticism on her art if it suggests she has made a mistake - darkens characters for minority points regardless if the majority of the population looks otherwise, doesn't bother to listen to people from the nation suggesting more realistic ones, and suggests such coloration is superior when in fact it just tokenizes minorities instead of drawing characters with their proper skin tones or at least a reasonable one to represent the culture rather than just making everyone darker. - sending her friends on witch hunts to those who have either wronged her in a way or called out her actions which have lead to death threats, r*pe threats, and anon hate that has caused great distress - stalked people's accounts/sent spies onto their accounts after drama - excluding people she has issues with from things she hosts - intolerance towards others with differing ideas from her unless they can provide her with some sort of benefit. - favoritism towards more popular/elite people and often ignores those who don’t make the cut - calling those with strong differing opinions toxic people - stolen designs/art/ideas from other people without credit or eliminating the credit from what she has taken after some time - a clear Fandom Elite attitude where she believes she is above other people and wants to remain "on top". - hypocrisy in purchases. Places a specific worth on her work (which is fine) but then goes and demands same or better quality work from others for much less than it is worth or than she would accept - entitled attitude towards Spamano, and the characters Spain and Romano - refusing to handle issues properly and acting childish when confronted or when reconciliation is attempted - habit of using people for the benefits that they can bring her - seeing things very black and white with no in between - overall toxic "bad think" mentality where anything differing from the deemed perfect view is bad and unforgivable. - refusal to admit when she is the wrong - manipulative and would rather vague blog, send anon hate, or even send a witch hunt than talk to the person or block them I have more material, but to be honest..I’m exhausted as it is. Exhausted knowing I will be the one getting anon hate, death threats and so on, just for speaking up. I do not think Kota is a bad person, but I wouldn’t call her innocent or a saint either. Hell, even I’m not a saint. No one is. I just wanted people to be aware of this and things that have happened and are happening. I do want to encourage people to speak up instead of hiding away, though. Stay strong, and don’t let people walk all over you. ~ Riri

#oof #big oof #i'm sorry #someone had to say this #taking the bullet

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bittysvalentines · 5 years

Text

Two-for-One Special

From: @luckiedee

To: @leahlisabeth

Ship: Patater (Kent Parson/Alexei Mashkov)

Word Count: 2,995

Rating: PG-13

Summary: There are several ways to deal with a rumor. You can deny it, of course. Or you can pretend that it's true.

Warnings: language, referenced/implied sexual situations.

Author's Note: Written for the 2019 Bitty’s Valentine’s Exchange as a gift for @leahlisabeth, whose requests included Patater and fake dating. Inspired by prompts #22 and #25 from this list. I hope you enjoy! ♥

“Hey, did you hear about Parson?”

Kent freezes, his protein bar halfway to his mouth. That’s Carl; Kent would recognize his grating, overconfident voice anywhere. It sounds like he’s out at the water cooler, and he probably doesn’t realize that Kent is in the break room — and therefore, within earshot — but he’s enough of a dick that Kent can’t be sure.

The answering voice is female and hushed: “I heard something about him hooking up with Alexei.” That’s Tamia.

And that’s… what?

Carl snorts. “In Parson’s head maybe. It's a lie, and he made it up himself. Pathetic.”

Kent goes hot and cold at once, flushing with anger and shock. He hadn’t done either of those things — whether or not he’d hook up with Alexei Mashkov (he totally would), there’s no way in hell he’d tell anyone at work about it, much less float a rumor that it had happened when it hadn’t.

To her credit, Tamia’s skeptical as she asks, “Really?”

“Obviously,” Carl says.

“If you say so,” Tamia replies, still dubious.

As their voices fade away, Kent sighs and tosses what’s left of his protein bar in the trash. Hopefully, whatever bullshit misinformation is in the air, it won’t reach Alexei himself.

Kent has taken several temp jobs since he started working on his accounting degree, but this is the first one where he feels like he’s on a kindergarten playground instead of in an office. Except that five-year-olds probably don’t spread sex rumors. So maybe it’s more like high school drama, but Kent has been working with teenagers for years at a local sporting goods store, and they’re definitely more mature than Carl.

To be honest, Kent’s not exactly sure what he did to make the dude hate him so much. He suspects it’s something to do with the fact that Carl is hoping to be hired by the company after their project is done (in which case, Kent is direct competition) or that he’s been trying to get into Tamia’s pants since day one (in which case, Kent is not).

At lunch, Kent sits with the other temps, since there aren’t any empty tables. He’s got his head down, so it comes as a complete surprise when Alexei squeezes into the chair next to his and scoots so close that he’s practically in Kent’s lap. “Hi Kenny,” he says warmly, looking right into Kent’s face, and that… is not something he’s ever called Kent before.

It makes Kent feel like he’s been eating rocks, a whole pile of them that are sitting in the pit of his stomach and dragging it down. Is this all some kind of joke? Are Carl and Alexei in on it together?

Except — Alexei doesn’t look like he’s joking. He’s angled toward Kent, and his head twitches in a tiny, almost imperceptible nod. Then, he winks.

Kent risks a glance around the table, and Carl’s jaw is almost on the floor so — okay, not in on it together. He looks back at Alexei and finally replies, “Hey.”

Alexei’s grin widens. “So, Thursday is Valentine’s,” he comments, all nonchalance as he unwraps a sandwich. “You want I tell you about surprise now or later?”

“Valentine’s?” Kent croaks out.

“Mmhmmm,” Alexei hums around a mouthful of peanut butter and jelly. He swallows. “Remember I say maybe I have plan?”

There’s that nod again, barely a movement, while Alexei holds his gaze steadily.

“Right,” Kent says slowly. “You sounded like it probably wouldn’t work out, so I guess I… forgot about it.”

Alexei seizes on that. “Didn’t think it would work! But I pull string, and we have reservation at new fondue place. My friend is bartender. Someone cancel last minute. Maybe they break up; sad for them, but happy for us. Is two-for-one special. You keep night free for me?”

Kent sees Carl’s expression go from shocked to bewildered. And okay, Kent still has no idea what’s going on, but — this could be fun. He knocks his shoulder into Alexei’s and gives him a close, private smile. “For you? I’m always free.”

Across the table, Tamia perks up. “I waitress there on the side!” she exclaims. “And I just agreed to pick up a shift on Thursday. I’ll try to get you seated in my section.”

Shit, Kent thinks, but Alexei doesn’t seem bothered by it. “We give you best tip,” he promises, and then turns to Kent. “I pick you up at six-thirty. Reservation at seven.” He drops one catcher’s-mitt hand onto Kent’s knee under the table and gives it a quick squeeze — Kent’s face flames — before he addresses Carl, “You have plans?”

It’s hard not to feel smug when Carl gives a grudging no in response. Kent’s plans may be fake, but at least he’s got some.

Basically, it’s a weird fucking day, and Kent is glad to escape when it’s over. He shuts down his computer promptly at five, but before he’s even halfway out of his chair, Alexei glances up and asks, “I walk with you?”

“Sure,” Kent agrees, and when they’re outside and well clear of the building, he says, brightly, “So, what the fuck?”

It seems to take Alexei by surprise. “What you mean, what the fuck?”

“I mean, why are you acting like we’re… dating, or whatever? Two-for-one special at the fondue place? Is this a joke or something?”

“No!” Alexei exclaims, sounding affronted, and then his voice goes concerned. “You not hear?”

“Hear what?”

“Rumor, about us.”

Kent groans. “I was afraid of that. Fuck. Listen, I swear I didn’t —”

“I know,” Alexei cuts him off, simply, like he never had any doubt. “Was Carl, making shit up. Can’t stand him.”

Huh. “I had no idea,” Kent admits. “You’re nice to him.”

Alexei shrugs. “Have to be nice at work. But he’s dick.”

It’s so surprising and Kent is so relieved not to be the butt of some coordinated prank that he starts to laugh. “Then what the fuck was that?” he asks, more jovially this time.

“I’m just mad and think maybe make him feel dumb, get even. Should have asked first. I’m sorry,” Alexei says, contrite.

“Don’t worry about it,” Kent replies. It had been fine. Confusing, but fine. Now that he knows it wasn’t malicious, the look on Carl’s face had been more than worth it. “Actually, thanks. I owe you one. Have a good night, okay?” With an awkward gesture that’s half wave, half salute, Kent starts backing toward his car.

“You owe? Maybe I make you pay for fondue,” Alexei suggests.

Kent stumbles over his own feet in surprise, and Alexei lurches forward to grab his arm. “You —” Kent starts once he has his balance back. “You were serious about that?”

Alexei draws his hand back and jams it into his jacket pocket. “I’m not lie. I get reservation last minute, but no date. And we have to show Tamia we’re best couple! I’m just joke, I pay, so free meal for you.”

He looks so genuinely hopeful that Kent can’t imagine saying no, even though Alexei’s rationale isn’t as flattering as, say, actually wanting to have dinner together. “Sure, yeah, okay. Why not,” Kent says. After all, his actual Valentine’s Day plans involve watching sappy movies with his cat, and he’s not sure which is more pathetic: that or going on a fake date with his pretend boyfriend. It’s probably a toss-up.

At least this job is going to end in a few days, and after that, it won’t matter anymore. In the meantime, there are worse things than a free dinner with an attractive guy.

On Valentine's Day, Alexei greets Kent at his door with a single red rose — which is unexpected to say the least — and Kent accepts it gingerly. “Think dozen is too many for first date,” Alexei says with a wink. He’s wearing a cardigan, and it kind of makes him look like somebody’s grandfather, but it kind of works too.

“Should I bring this to the restaurant?” Kent asks. Otherwise, how is Tamia ever going to see it?

Alexei shrugs. “Whatever you want. Is yours now.”

Kent ends up sticking it in a bottle of water and leaving it behind, because he doesn’t have a vase and he doesn’t want something else to keep track of when he’s already juggling so many lies.

While Kent is settling into the passenger seat of Alexei’s SUV, Alexei waves a hand and says, “Sorry for mess. I’m forget to bring inside.”

Kent cranes around and catches sight of — a hockey bag. His eyebrows shoot up. “You play hockey?”

“Just beer league, for fun.”

“Yeah? I played a lot when I was younger.” Kent considers how much of an understatement that is. “A lot.”

Alexei glances over at him. “You any good?”

Kent snorts. “I was all right. Probably would have been drafted if I hadn’t blown out my knee.”

There’s a suspicious tilt to Alexei’s smirk. “I think you being modest. I’m Google you later.”

“Go ahead.”

Alexei’s tone grows more sympathetic as he says, “I’m sorry for knee. Big sports injury, change all life plans, must be hard.”

And that isn’t something that Kent would delve into on a real first date, much less a fake one. “It was an adjustment, for sure.”

“You still watch?”

Probably more than he should. Kent often wonders if he should have made a cleaner break, but it’s harder than it sounds. “All the time,” he admits.

“What team?”

“The Aces. They probably would have drafted me.”

He laughs good-naturedly when Alexei greets that news with an exuberant boo. “I’m Falconers fan,” he announces.

Kent groans. Of course he would be a fan of the team that Jack plays for, now that Jack’s finally made it to the NHL. It’s probably lucky that they aren’t trying to start an actual relationship. “Well, let’s not have our first fight before our first date,” he warns.

They arrive early, and Kent perches beside Alexei on a bench, a few inches away, until Alexei chuckles and tugs him closer with an arm around his shoulder. Kent steadfastly doesn’t think about how well he fits tucked into Alexei’s side. “Is date, kroshka,” Alexei murmurs. “Sit close to me.”

Jesus fuck. It’s all Kent can do not to shiver. “Right,” he says, fumbling his phone from his jeans pocket into his blazer.

“Wait,” Alexei orders him. “Is that cat on phone?”

“Oh — oh yeah, that’s my cat,” Kent replies. “Her name is Kit.”

Alexei beams. “Gorgeous lady! Tell me about.”

That Kent can do.

After they’re seated at a booth, Alexei extends one arm, hand on the table, palm up. Kent tentatively covers it with his own, and Alexei holds it, stroking over Kent’s knuckles with his thumb. His eyes are warm in the mood lighting, and Kent traitorous heart trips over its own rhythm. Not real, he reminds himself. This is not real.

He’s startled by a bright voice chirping out, “Hey guys!” It’s Tamia, who’s appeared at the edge of their booth. “Sorry to interrupt.”

Kent’s first instinct is to yank his hand back, but Alexei’s grip tightens as he grins.

The meal starts with cheese fondue — and who knew carrots would taste so good dipped in cheese? — and a salad. Even better than the food is the conversation: they talk about being non-traditional students, and more about hockey, and Kent listens, enthralled, as Alexei recounts his decision to leave Russia despite how much he loves it. “Can’t be myself there,” he explains. “When I’m get here, had to work for money for bring mama. Then we both work for my school. Now I get offer for good job, so I take care of us both.”

“Are they hiring you after your internship?” Kent asks. “I heard there’s an opening for a Junior Accountant.”

Alexei shakes his head. “No, another company. I’m recommend you for Junior Accountant.”

Kent goes still. “You did?”

“You work hard, very smart, good fit.” Alexei smiles at him. “I’m say they should pick you. If not you, Tamia. If not Tamia, interview someone else. Not Carl.”

“Oh,” Kent says. He feels one corner of his mouth quirk up, and he glances at his plate, feeling unaccountably flustered. “Thank you.”

They order a variety of meats to share, and Alexei teases Kent when he uses his phone to time how long they cook in the fondue pot. “Shrimp not kill you if you cook for one minute, fifty-five seconds,” he says playfully.

“Do you want to end this night at the hospital?” Kent banters back. “Or for me to get sick right here at the table? That would give all these couples something to talk about.”

Alexei rolls his eyes. “Not going to get sick if cook for five seconds wrong.”

That’s probably true, but Kent’s having flash of inspiration. “Hang on. Do you really want to give them something to talk about? We could stage a dramatic breakup. You know, have a big fight, I’ll storm out…”

He expects Alexei to enter into the spirit of the thing, to plot some ridiculous scenario even if they don’t go through with it. Instead, he shakes his head, looking thoughtful. “No, is Valentine’s Day, don’t want to ruin for everyone having nice time. Besides, Tamia see and then what we say at work tomorrow?”

“That’s true.”

“Besides,” Alexei continues, “how we kiss goodnight if we break up?”

“I don’t put out on the first date,” Kent quips, which isn’t necessarily true.

“No?” Alexei asks, meeting Kent’s eyes. “Not even little bit kiss?”

Kent chokes on his fully-cooked shrimp. After calming his sputtering with a drink of water, he asks, incredulously, “Wait, you’re serious?”

Alexei is watching him fondly, despite the fact that Kent nearly needed the Heimlich. “This is good date. Good date should end with a kiss. Unless you not want.”

Kent gapes across the table, but he’s interrupted from answering by Tamia, who arrives with dessert menus. Alexei enthusiastically chooses the turtle fondue, and Kent agrees without even looking at the options. Whatever, it’s chocolate; he’ll like it. When their order is placed, Alexei extends his hand for Kent’s again and says, “So, when you adopt Princess Kit? You get from shelter?”

Still dazed, Kent gives a rambling answer and tries not to worry about the fact that he’s a human disaster. He concentrates on speaking normally instead. On not fucking this up in the first ninety seconds. On just — fucking breathing like he’s doing it naturally.

The dessert course is decadent. There’s a fondue pot full of rich chocolate and caramel swimming with pecans, and a tray with everything from fruit to marshmallows to brownies. Alexei squeezes Kent’s hand, then drops it with a delighted exclamation. Tamia says, low, “I got you some extra strawberries.”

“Best,” Alexei says, beaming at her.

She grins back. “You guys look really happy. I hope this all works out for you.”

Even though Kent has already eaten his fill, the chocolate fondue is so amazing that he knows he won’t be leaving a crumb of food behind. It’s good, too, how vocal Alexei is in his enjoyment of it, his appreciative noises that nearly have Kent squirming in his seat. “Kroshka, did you try cheesecake?” Alexei asks. “No? Try.” He extends a dripping piece across the table.

Christ, Kent’s going to go up in fucking flames. He manages to play it cool as he takes the bite of cheesecake in his mouth, letting his lips slide back against the tines of the fork and darting his tongue out to catch a smear of chocolate. It’s delicious, and he gives a pleased hum and says, “yeah, that’s really good,” all while looking Alexei right in the eye.

Alexei just smirks, his gaze dark, like he knows what game Kent is playing but he enjoys it anyway.

Maybe they’re both playing the same game, Kent realizes, as Alexei sticks the fork in his mouth to suck off the remaining chocolate.

Back at the truck, instead of opening the passenger side door, Alexei backs Kent into it, his hands on Kent’s hips. “Sure I can’t have kiss good night?” he asks. “Just little one?”

“Shouldn’t that be when you drop me off?” Kent asks, but he tilts his head up.

Alexei answers him on a murmur: “If you want. Rather bring you home with me.”

“Then kiss me there.”

“Kiss you here first,” Alexei insists.

So Kent says, “Okay.”

When Kent arrives at work the next morning, he’s in Alexei’s truck and yesterday’s clothes. Beside him, Alexei is smug and cheerful as they walk toward the office. “I want take you out again,” he announces. “You say yes?”

Kent snorts. “You’re asking now? What, you had to make sure the sex would be good first?”

“No, sex with me always good,” Alexei replies, and Kent isn’t arguing with that, although his sample size is admittedly small. Hopefully it won’t be for long. “Maybe you tell Carl, he can spread around.”

“Hell no,” Kent says, laughing. “I don’t kiss and tell.”

Kent’s in the break room, getting a celebratory candy bar from the vending machine, when a voice floats in from the hall: “Did you hear about Kent?”

It’s Tamia this time. Kent jerks in surprise; she’d definitely noticed that he was wearing the same shirt as yesterday and given him a sly look, but he’d never imagined that she’d gossip about him.

Carl grunts out an annoyed-sounding nope.

Tamia continues anyway. “They offered him a Junior Accountant job, part time until he finishes school, then full time after that.”

Kent grins and fishes another dollar bill out of his wallet. Tamia deserves a candy bar too — she’d become friends with someone in HR, who had given Tamia’s resume to her sister, who worked somewhere that was looking for an accountant.

It’s definitely not to reward her for spreading rumors.

After all, it’s not a rumor if it’s true.

#kenttater #fanfiction #bittysvalentines #bv2019 #omgcp

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letters-from-the-three-houses · 5 years

Note

i saw you shipped edelgard and felix, could you tell us something more about it ?? 👀👀👀

sure! :D it’ll be under the cut since it’s kinda long

tl;dr: it reminds me of another pairing i like, which i think works because there’s way too much tension between them and being together staves off their loneliness

okay, so to properly explain this i’ll need to dial back to my freshman year of uni, where i took a classics course for mesopotamian and egyptian mythology. our final assignment was to basically write a fanfic using the source material, and i chose to do it on the tale of nergal and ereshkigal. a rough, crude summary of the myth is:

ereshkigal is the ruler of the mesopotamian underworld (irkalla)

she has a strong sense of duty and a powerful presence, but she’s practically alone in irkalla because she’s one of the only deities there and can’t leave the underworld due to the rules of the universe

one day, she’s invited to a party in the heavens. since she can’t go, she sends her vizier, namtar, in her stead

nergal is a stubborn, self-destructive war god who has a mean streak and cannot for the life of him learn when to shut up, so he starts off the whole conflict by disrespecting namtar (therefore ereshkigal) at the party, causing ereshkigal to summon him to irkalla for judgment

depending on the version you read (either the short or long one), nergal can either

a) storm into the underworld and defeat ereshkigal, sparing her life when she takes him as a husband and they become co-rulers. this is the short one

or b) be an absolute idiot because enki (the god of wisdom) warns him to not sit, eat/drink, bathe, or uh, ‘lie in bed’ with ereshkigal during his stay there. this is the long one

nergal manages to resist the other warnings but can’t seem resist ereshkigal herself, so they do the do for six days and he runs away from irkalla on the seventh

this causes ereshkigal to become upset, so she sends namtar to find him and bring him back

he does eventually, on his own(?) accord, but acts like a whole jerk and a half, coming back like an absolute madman and wreaking havoc to poor innocent doormen to get to ereshkigal, where they more-or-less make up and uh, do the do again—this time for seven days, completing the symbolic initiation of his transition to the underworld

and the ruler of the gods says, “okie dokie, he can stay there”

the end of the myth is unfortunately missing, but it’s probably just wrapping everything up so it’s not a major loss

depending on your interpretation, this can be seen as ‘nergal the jerk: the saga’, the submission of a god who gets overpowered and must therefore share their domain, or a romance between two lonely beings who find love in each other. or all three, because they’re not mutually exclusive

(this analysis yonder is a great read that sums up my thoughts on the subject, if you’re curious about reading more on it!)

i think about their relationship from time to time to wonder about character dynamics, so one day, i was thinking about what roles the fe3h cast would play if they were in nergal and ereshkigal’s place. then i realized wait, aren’t they basically eddie/felix??

ereshkigal: independent, cool-headed, unforgiving to those who have wronged her, an important authority figure

nergal: headstrong, has a sharp tongue that gets him into trouble, likes fighting, runs away from feelings

both: kind of lonely (depends on interpretations!) because they’re alienated from others, extremely powerful, proud, passionate

like, it’s not perfect (eresh is more honest than eddie, nergal is more impulsive than felix), but i can see some parallels between them. and since i’m really fascinated in nergal/ereshkigal’s relationship, i started thinking about eddie/felix too much that it somehow wormed its way into my heart

you see, nergal/ereshkigal’s a fun ride because it’s basically a hollywood drama. the cool ice queen and resident bad boy fall in love but because they’re not good at coming to terms with their feelings, there are some twists and turns before they get together

they have a bumpy start, sure, but from the moment they meet, the tension is almost palpable?? like it’s some kind of instant magnetization. they’re attracted to each other from the start that once they do fall for each other, their whirlwind romance becomes intense and fervent. there’s a similar fire within them that, once the other finds, could potentially draw them together—if i take nergal/ereshkigal into account

the problem is that eddie and felix are different characters from eresh and nergal, so getting together the way the latter two did is probably impossible. for example, i can’t imagine eddie being drawn to felix from the get go, nor can i imagine felix flirting

but! i do think that once they do (no matter how it happens), they could serve as a source of strength for their otherwise isolated selves. both being independent, eddie wouldn’t coddle felix and leaves him alone whenever he needs his space, and felix would let eddie do her own thing because he knows she’s capable. but when they are together, they’d be way too powerful—fit to be rulers on the underworld

i’m actually tempted to rewrite the story so i can insert the students in their place (the childhood squad as enki, one of the black eagles as namtar, etc.), but haha, i dunno if it’d translate well

i hope this answers your question! i’d be pretty pumped if this starts spurning people to make mythoo adaptations for fe3h (pygmalion and galatea au for ingrid and her love interest please and thank you??)

bonus:

here’s a snippet of the myth fic that i wrote, so you can judge if eddie + felix would fit yourself! (got rid of the names to make it easier to pretend)

—

“Are you lying to me?”

She was confused. “What are you talking about?”

He trailed a hand across her jawline, landing under her chin as he leaned closer. He seemed angry. “Were you pretending? Treating me like a pity case? Laughing whenever I looked away?”

“What?” she repeated. “No, I—”

He pushed her away. “You and everyone else. I should’ve known.”

Confused, she reached out but he slapped her away. Pain etched in her chest.

“Don’t play with me! I told you why I wasn’t close to anyone! I trusted you!” His voice broke. He sounded miserable. “I thought you were different.”

That did it. She marched right up to him and grabbed his wrists. He escaped her grip. But every time he did, she latched herself onto him again.

“You,” she said, “Are. Acting. Like a child! Listen to me!” When he struggled against her hold, she wrapped her arms around his neck and knocked her head onto his. She felt him take a sharp breath. “What are you trying to say?”

He gritted his teeth. “That you’re faking.”

“Faking what?”

“This.” He placed a hand on her arm. “This.” On her cheek. “This.” On her heart.

Couldn’t he feel it? Her erratic heartbeat? He was being ridiculous. She could hear it in her ears. She started to laugh and he scowled, hurt flashing through his eyes.

She hated it.

So she kissed him.

And when she drew back, her face was flushed and eyes hazed. She asked, “I care for you. More than you realize. Does that answer your question?”

#fire emblem three houses #fe16 #fe3h #edelgard von hresvelg #felix yugo fraldarius #asks #misc #user #prerelease #(are there any other ships that people want to ask my thoughts on??)#(i'll do it for free!)

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kamino-ink · 5 years

Text

Trust | Bang Chan

genre ⌁ haunting!au, horror, supernatural, angst, fluff, enemies-to-lovers-ish

summary ⌁ you are a regular ole’ demonologist, just living your best life attending the occasional possession or exorcism - until a novice exorcist with a giant ego accidently gets you into harm’s way.

word count ⌁ 2.8k

warning ⌁ kinda violent tbh, mentions of death n blood and religion

Check out my masterlist!

A/N - I hate this a lot I swear the other parts will be better :/

the case of the southend werewolf was one that would haunt you forever, for years to come until the day you passed

while the famous husband and wife duo, ed and lorraine warren, had solved the case many decades ago, one oddly similar instance popped up in news reports and videos over time

you’d been doing some personal research since the very first story came up on your recommended page, diligently applying your demonology knowledge to the strange case

yes - demonology

you weren’t exactly catholic, or... religious in general, for the most part; you liked to call yourself agnostic for lack of a better term

you didn’t quite believe in the idea of gods and all that jazz, but you did however delve deeper into the possible existence of demons or, rather, negative energy that fed off the masses

moving on

you decided that you really wanted to go to the area in England where the supposed possession was taking place, but on account of their authority figures (and the church) you required a professional to go with you

enter bang chan, novice exorcist in training

in the midst of your heavy digging for an exorcist to accompany you on the trip, you stumbled upon a verified site from the Vatican itself, which cited experienced or in training students all over the world

bang chan happened to be the first one who had a decent record, plus he was technically still training so if he came on the trip, his supervisor would have to go as well - meaning double the protection

after a week of arranging flights and meetings, you found yourself landing in an airport located in Essex, England

there you met up with chan and his supervisor, a decorated exorcist by the name of park jinyoung

together the three of you spoke about the case, from the ride to the hotel all the way into unpacking for the stay

while you and jinyoung had been in a heated discussion over the suspected possession, chan spent that time rolling his eyes whenever you presented your research or an opinion - he even had the audacity to glare at you as you asked questions about their church and services

“you shouldn’t even be here,” the Australian man finally spoke up, “you’re not a child of god, so why do you even care about our church or what we’ve devoted our lives to?”

jinyoung hisses and smacks the younger man on the back of his head, offering you a reprimanded look of apology

“chan, just because you’re technically a licensed student doesn't mean that you can ridicule others who have different beliefs than we do. our first lesson is to-”

“not judge others, for judgement is a sin.” the blonde finishes with a grunt, though he sends you another harsh glare at the same time

“my beliefs are my own, chan. while I don’t believe in your god, I do believe in the mere existence of negative entities in our world.” you reply shortly

he scoffs, abruptly standing from his chair at the dining table, “you’re completely unbelievable, woman. just - stay out of our way during our investigation.”

and with that, he left, storming off into his bedroom

jinyoung apologizes for his pupil’s behavior, though he doesn’t bring up the topic of your beliefs for the rest of the night

for the next three days, the three of you delve deeper into the possible possession of a man named mark tuan

he was a normal guy from la who moved to England a few years ago so he could be with his long-term girlfriend, and up until recent months he was just like any other man

but then he started to exhibit strange, inhuman habits; such as uprooting a fence post and crunching on the wire mesh, walking on all four limbs, and just the other day he reportedly sniffed out a deer carcass deep in the woods behind his home

after witnessing the man break out into a cold sweat and nearly attack a smaller dog much like a predatory wolf, father jinyoung decided they would perform an exorcism

the plan was to bring mark tuan back to their church in Australia, as the demon manifesting inside of him was something entirely inhuman and could potentially be a threat if it somehow wasn’t fully dismissed

however on the same evening you all were planning to fly to Australia, something triggered mark into a furious frenzy

foam started to dribble between his dry lips, his hair stood up all over his body, and the lanky man literally lunged at father jinyoung - effectively pinning him to the ground as he attempted to gauge out his throat

you leapt into action, throwing yourself onto the back of the man to try and pull his weight off of the priest

meanwhile chan was in a state of sheer panic, watching as his own mentor was being targeted by a very powerful demon before his very eyes

“c-chan,” jinyoung called out to the stunned man, letting out a painful scream as mark tears into his flesh with his teeth, “leave and lock all the door and windows - call father jaebum from the church in London-”

but chan doesn’t listen to him - he silently reassures himself that he can handle a real exorcism himself - it’s what he’s been training to do his entire life

so the blonde snatches a bible from the bookshelf behind him, flipping through it until he finds a set of pages, his gaze wavering in fear and panic as you whip your head around to gawk at him

you scream and shout at him, telling him to listen to the dying man’s words, all the while struggling to pull him towards the front door and away from the possessed man

still he goes on, reciting his teachings word by word until there’s a pregnant pause

mark’s body, still on top of father jinyoung’s, twitches after a certain phrase chan had stuttered out weakly

“y-you didn’t say it the right way-”

“how would you know!?”

“just because i’m not religious doesn’t mean I haven’t done my own damn research,” you hiss quietly, voice shaking as mark continues to twitch madly and turns his attention to the two of you, fresh blood and torn skin hanging from his stained lips, “c-chan, we need to go!”

“no - if we leave then there’s a chance the demon will use his body until it can find a new host and go on torturing innocent people just like mark!” he protests, glancing down at the bible as the brunette man takes a step forward

“chan-”

he doesn’t listen to a word you say, attempting the passage yet again, but more clearly this time

it’s too late, though

on his last word mark charges towards the man, his mouth wide open and prepared to take a chunk of flesh from his neck - but you’re somehow faster. you shove chan out of the way just as the deed is done, receiving a painful bite to your shoulder

in seconds mark’s body collapses onto the ground, a strange, cold presence emitting into the open air before all goes quiet

the series of events that followed that were a blur to you: from chan rushing to cover your wound to the two ambulances that arrive on the scene to take you and father jinyoung to the nearest hospital

before you know it, an entire month has flown by since the southend werewolf incident

you had to stay in the hospital for a majority of that time, since your demon-inflicted wound tended to get infected too easily

by the time you were given the okay to leave, you heard that father jinyoung was still being held there as a patient, his entire throat needing to be worked on for who knows how long

the one interesting outcome of the entire situation, though, was finding a defeated looking chan at your doorstep when you got home

“the church said that, due to my hasty actions and its consequences of you being injured by a demon I was instructed not to interact with, I am to be your caregiver until I am able to go back to learning.”

“... so you’re grounded, basically.”

“please, don’t say it like that.”

so that my friends is how bang chan the sort of exorcist was thrust into your life for good

“heyyy chan, can you please make me some chocolate-chip pancakes for breakfast?”

“your bite is healed, you can cook your own fucking food-”

“ah, but the church said that you have to do whatever I ask of you until you aren’t grounded anymore~”

“... I’ll make them super fluffy if you promise to stop saying it like that.”

so for the next two months, you were accommodating an amusing roommate of sorts

he slept on an air mattress you set up in the living room, so it wasn’t like the poor guy had to suffer with an aching back the entire duration of his ground- of his punishment

each morning he’d cook the both of you breakfast and begrudgingly watch exaggerated dramas with you until lunchtime rolled around

usually he’d take you out to eat and explore the city with you, something he refused to admit actually made him have some fun for once in his life

for dinner you’d both kind of give up on the idea of making real food and would instead order pizza or Chinese takeout, all the while hiding under a set of fluffy blankets next to you in favor of watching scary movies

you kind of hated to admit it, but chan had really grown on you - over time he seemed to accept his mistake back in the England exorcism, and one night he even took the time to apologize to you on his own terms

“chan, I still don’t understand why I have to wear a dress if- oh...”

there the man stood himself, clad in a black tux with a red bowtie next to the tiny dining table stuffed in the cramped kitchen. “I think it’s time that I owe you a real apology for what happened in England... and how I acted. I know that, to a degree, we have different beliefs - but you’re still an amazing, wonderful woman who I would like to call a friend.”

you totally didn’t almost ruin the moment by commenting on how his bowtie was crooked, shhhh

that night he treated you to homemade pasta and brownies for dessert, the first dinner either of you had actually made yourselves since he arrived at your home

ever since that night, the two of you would grow closer and closer - and then his punishment was over

the church had called him immediately, stating that he had to return quickly if he wanted to continue his training

neither of you admitted it aloud, but having to help him pack his things just so he could go back to Australia crushed your hearts

you’d grown so used to each other’s presence, forming a natural routine every single day that never became tiresome

after you bid farewell to the now silver-haired man at the airport, you found yourself feeling more lonely than ever before

sure you both exchanged contacts with one another and talked on the phone often, but it just... wasn't the same, honestly

then, out of the blue, just about two weeks after his departure, chan called you and told you about a haunted house he was being sent to investigate near your city

you weren’t required to go, but you found yourself offering to accompany him during his paranormal studies at the home

the moment you two met up at the house, you went straight into work mode, having no time to catch up since it seemed as if something was very wrong

cameras placed by the two husbands all over the two-story house showed signs of life, even when no one was awake

they reported that they’d seen furniture being tossed around their rooms and that their own daughter had started to experience hellish nightmares that ended with her being covered in scars the next morning

you and chan went to work, looking at every single audio or video file you could find in their tapes and cameras, even interviewing each member of the family alone to see if it was a hoax as the church suspected it to be

then one night, you felt an odd chill roll over your body in the middle of your slumber, though you at first thought nothing of it

but the next morning, there was a circle with a cross etched onto your wrist. chan immediately guessed that the demon had somehow managed to inch its way into your body - though that in itself was odd, especially since demons traditionally had to weaken their target host before fully possessing them

your condition continued to grow worse and worse as the days passed by, up until chan had finally decided that the best course of action was to take you to a church and see what more experienced priests could do

luggage in tow, chan lead you to the front door of the house, bidding a short farewell to the family and promising to send members of the church the same day - yet, you didn’t follow him

or rather, you couldn’t

something forcefully snapped you back into the house, causing you to stumble and crash into a shelving unit on the wall

“y-y/n?”

“mam, are you alright?”

you shake your head, slowly standing back up to walk back to the door where a worried chan was staring at you with furrowed brows

the second the tip of your shoes reach the doorway, another tug slams you onto the cold floor - quickly going to drag your limp body down the hallway into a bedroom before the door suddenly slams shut

you can feel the demon lurking in your body, hungrily feasting upon your state of utter terror - though you try your best to fight it off before it can fully possess you

seconds, minutes, hours - you're not quite sure how much time had passed since you’d been thrown into the secluded bedroom

all you knew was that you had grown so much weaker in that period of time, your eyes struggling to focus on anything in the room

you also knew that chan was banging on the door, trying his damned hardest to break it down

in a woozy state your head bobbles around until your blurry gaze lands on your now exposed shoulder, spotting the wound from the werewolf demon now irritated and red with pus seeping out of it

the demon had been able to subdue you so quickly because you’d technically already been afflicted before, and now it was a race against time before it was able to completely overpower you

with a snap the bedroom door flies open, a rugged looking chan standing with a bible and a slim jar of what you could only guess was holy water

“c-chan,” you echo his name just as the late father jinyoung had, feeling dread sweep over your entire being as another wave of pus pushes out of the inflicted wound on your bare shoulder, “leave, be-before you get hurt-”

“I won’t run away from you, y/n,” he whimpers softly, stepping closer to your now convulsing body as he flips to a page in his bible, “you’re not going to get hurt because of me... not again.”

you find that you’re too exhausted to argue, instead nodding your head silently

“I - I trust you, chan. you’re an exorcist, you can do this-” you stop in your tracks, heaving in pain as a spurt of red blood shoots out from between your cracked lips

with no hesitation at all, the silver-haired man clears his throat and continues to stare you down, occasionally glancing back down to his bible as he perfectly recites the words for the exorcism

he splashes a dosage of holy water onto your skin, wincing as you let out a screech of pain - but he knows it’s not you reacting that way, it’s the demon possessing you

in a matter of seconds he’s performed the passage perfectly, not once stuttering or saying a word incorrectly like he had in England

a wave of relief causes you to topple over when the evil presence vanishes completely from your body, but before you can hit the floor chan has wrapped his arms under yours to hold you up steadily

“I sent the family out to call an ambulance and other members of their church - you’re going to be okay, I promise.” he speaks to you softly, brushing your now frazzled hair out of your face

“I knew you could do it, you know.”

“but - but how, y/n?”

“because I trust you with my life, bang chan.”

#skzwriters #stray kids #stray kids scenario #stray kids imagine #stray kids drabble #stray kids au #bang chan #chan scenario #chan imagine #stray kids angst #stray kids fluff

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