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#me when. university is the first time in my life i can actually Understand school and thus have a need to excel in order to
pointsfortrying · 5 months
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#rye rants#vent#don't know if i can “we stay silly” out of this one gang#vent:tm: im just yelling into the void fslkjsdklrkd head in hands#me when i. face the consequences of my actions#my gpa is going to be Plummeting this semester we are in the fucking. trenches#i loveeee when mental health/family/and also my uni being a fucking hellhole because Yeah fucking Sure#let's bring a god damn '''isre*li''' to speak here Yeah I definetly want to stay in this school and havent been looking for alternatives#going to keep being pissed off about that!#just.#head in hands#the classes were easy as well and that's the fucking. worst part because i Know i could've done them i just.#didn't! because i kind of really wanted to just leave the school or vandalize it in between other forms of protest/arguing with#god damn z.ionist teachers/faculty + general health/mental health shit just. gah#technically still got an hour to try and raise my grades up a bit but like Hah i give up#me when. i don't even fucking Need a good gpa. it's god damn video game design. portfolios are more important#i should care less about grades! I don't need the god damn. best possible grades but Ragh#<- the constant self internalized need to prove oneself#me when. university is the first time in my life i can actually Understand school and thus have a need to excel in order to#prove that i've always been capable and it was just my enviroment/situation#god#i hate my brain and i really wish the world we lived in was less of an ass but fuck it!#what other option is there beside staying silly and fuck it we ball#i wish my brain would work but i don't get that because god had to nerf me when i was born or else i'd be too god damn strong apparently#<- they'll be okay and things Very likely don't have consequences that matter but they've been. Very frustrated and needs to complain a bit#stares off into the distance one day i'll get therapy or some form of aid to get some healthy coping mechanisms to deal with the fucked up#systems and perceptions in my head#until that day though fuck it we ball we stay silly#slams fist on floor me when i am human and i feel human emotions such as frustration#fucked up
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scalingsvt8thusiast · 2 months
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Wait for your love (angst)
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summary: you wait in silence, waiting for wonwoo to finally love you
inspired by Ariana Grande's We Can't be Friends (AKA Wait for your love)
a/n: I wrote this in a fever dream, some suggestive themes but nothing much apart from that. It's a 2 part fic. so look out for part 2 I guess :D
I didn’t think you’d understand me
You remembered the first interaction you had with Wonwoo. You had asked him for help with some maths question back in high school. 
“I don’t think that’s the right answer…” You whispered, watching him flush red as he rummaged through his pencil case clumsily looking for his eraser. 
“My maths isn’t very good!” He cried, erasing the answer that was so far off. 
“Oh! How about we try this!” You stuck your tongue out as you worked on the question using another method. 
The both of you flipped to the back of the book to check the answer. You remembered the look of awe Wonwoo gave you when your answer was right. 
Wonwoo was the quiet kid, the one who sat at the last row of class, always looking out the window, not paying attention in class. He wasn’t a star student or an athlete so on the popularity scale he was basically non-existent. You weren’t far off either. Pigtails and braces meant you weren’t much higher than him on that god-forsaken scale. But that’s what brought the two of you together. 
After that first interaction, you started warming up to your quiet seatmate. You joined him in the cafeteria, asked him out on study dates, even dragging him to his first hangout. You liked to think that he just accepted his fate, the two of you were destined to be friends. 
Somewhere along the line of your friendship, you started developing feelings for the scrawny boy. You couldn’t pin point exactly when or what caused your infatuation. You just remembered realising his facial features were so sharp, his shoulders were so broad and his hands were so large and warm. Was it when your hands met in the popcorn tub during the Star Wars reruns at your local cinema? Was it when you stared too deeply into his eyes during a round of cards? Was it when he picked you up and ran a whole lap around the park to prove a point?
You couldn’t remember. But it felt like you had been liking him for the longest time.
I’ll wait for your love
Everything changed after graduation. 
The break before university was due to start, you had gone off to stay with relatives in Paris while Wonwoo had gone off to stay with his brother in Seoul. The two of you were scheduled to attend the same universities, even scheduled to live together. It was only natural considering how long you two had been friends. He would arrive from Seoul first and you were due to arrive 2 weeks after, just in time for the first day of school. 
You were thoroughly surprised by the boy man who greeted you at the front door. 
“Wonwoo?” You said, blinking rapidly. 
Where was the scrawny, skinny boy you were familiar with? Who replaced him with this tall, handsome and extremely well built man?
“Y/n!” Wonwoo beamed at you, immediately helping you with your bags. 
You were momentarily taken aback by his voice. His high pitched, nasally voice had developed into a deep baritone. 
“How was Seoul?” You had managed to croak out, still dumb struck by the massive change your best friend went through.
“Great. I actually met quite a few friends in the same uni.” Wonwoo’s eyes held an excited glint.
You hummed, wondering how your anti-social and shy friend had managed to become a social butterfly. 
You should have known that was the first sign of the inevitable downfall of your friendship. 
Throughout the next few weeks, you were busy trying to get settled into your new life while Wonwoo was busy partying his life away. He would leave each night and return at wee hours of morning.
You remembered the first time you went to pick him up. 
“Y/n,” He drawled over the phone. 
You turned to check the clock, it was 4AM. “Wonwoo?”
“Can you come-,” A loud cheer erupted in the background. “Can you come get me?” 
“Oh, ok!” You said, pushing your blanket aside. “Text me the add-,”
He hung up. 
DING
You received the location from him.
Trying to look as presentable as possible, you hopped into your car. Driving to your best friend with Google Maps as guidance. 
You arrived at the party, expecting Wonwoo to be waiting for you by the road, ready to leave. But he was nowhere to be found. Wonwoo wasn’t waiting for you in front of the house, he wasn’t even standing with the groups of people near the front door. 
You tried his phone again but you were sent straight to voicemail. You jumped out of the car and went into the house. You tried your best to push through the multitudes of drunk people, looking for your best friend. Finally you found him, playing beer pong and boy, did he suck. 
“Won?” You said, coming up next to him. 
“Y/N!” He shouted, throwing his arms around you, dragging you into his chest for a hug. 
“Won, let’s go.” You coaxed, your nose crinkled from the strong stench of alcohol. 
“Everybody!” Wonwoo bellowed, “This is my friend! Y/N!”
You were horrified as everybody turned to look at you. You gave an awkward smile and squeezed his arm.
“Wonwoo, let’s go, please.” You begged, you had a class in 2 hours and you wanted to get home in time for at least 1 more hour of sleep. 
“But y/n, you just got here!” Wonwoo whined, he pouted. 
“Oh God, Woo, please.” You implored, biting your lip. You weren’t comfortable, you didn’t know anybody here and you had an overgrown child hanging onto you. 
“Okay,” Wonwoo quipped. “But only because you asked nicely.”
That was how you managed to get your housemate home. 
Wonwoo never apologised. He didn’t speak to you the whole week, he kept himself shut in his room while you went about your day. You tried knocking on his door, offering some food you had made but he never responded. 
After that incident, you noticed that he would do it more often. He would call you at odd hours of the morning, asking you to come pick him up, flirt with you then subsequently pass out on the couch. 
You found yourself getting hopeful. You deluded yourself into thinking that Wonwoo was doing this because you were the only person he trusted. You just had to wait a little longer for him to realise his feelings for you. You just had to wait.  
“Y/n, I love you soooo much,” Wonwoo slurred, you had slung one of his arms around your shoulder, walking him to your car. 
“Won, please.” You said, trying your best not to be effected by his empty words. You pushed him against the car while you fumbled for your car keys. 
Suddenly you felt your world spin, when it stopped you were face to face with your best friend. Wonwoo had flipped you over, your back now pressed against the car, his arms to your sides, caging you. His face was a whole ten centimetres away from yours. You could feel his breath on your face, your heart beat rapidly rising, one of your hands gripping his bicep to keep yourself steady. 
“Y/n, you’re so pretty.” He muttered, he placed a hand on your cheek. His eyes were on your lips. His tongue licking his own. 
“You’re drunk.” You whispered, you used all your strength to push against his chest. 
He didn’t move. Next thing you know, his lips were on yours. 
That was how you lost your first kiss to your best friend.
You cling to your papers and pens, wait until you like me again
After that kiss (wherein he subsequently passed out on you), Wonwoo seemed to avoid you even more. 
He no longer called you when he needed a ride home, instead his friends would send him home. You had met 3 of his friends: Mingyu, Vernon and Seungcheol. They each seemed to take turns dragging Wonwoo’s drunk ass into the house. Surprisingly they would all be sober each time. Which made you wonder if Wonwoo just had a habit of calling random people to send him home. 
“Y/n?” Wonwoo’s voice came.
You shot up from the dining table, you had just been busy revising for your upcoming tutorial. Wonwoo never spoke to you, so this was a shock. 
“I was wondering,” He cleared his throat, “could you help me with this?” 
You blinked, he was holding a few pieces of paper. 
“Sure!” You chirped, a little too cheerily. 
Of course you would help your best friend. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t spoke to you in months. It didn’t matter that he had ignored you when you tried to wave at him on campus. It didn’t matter that he pretended not to know you among his new friends.
Wonwoo was your best friend, so you were going to bury your feelings and help him. 
“Thanks.” He smiled. 
That smile that made your stomach do a summersault. That smile that threw you back to your teenage years, when he would smile at you and only you. 
It became a routine. He only spoke to you when he needed help with work. Even though you weren’t in the same course as him, you found yourself studying up on what he needed, just so you could help him. 
You found yourself staying up late, studying for both your finals as well as his finals. Just so when he came home the next day from some party, you could help him. 
You helped him because that was the only chance you had to speak to him. 
You helped him because that was the only time he showed you any attention. 
You helped him because you loved him. 
Just wanna let this story die
Wonwoo brought a girl home. 
It was 4AM in the morning, you were cramming for your exams the next day after looking through Wonwoo’s materials for his tutorial the day after. You could literally feel your head overheating with all the knowledge you were shoving into your brain. You stood up, deciding to stretch out your unused muscles when you heard the front door open. It was opened with so much force that the door banged onto the wall, causing you to jump. 
“Wony!!!” You heard a voice, it wasn’t that low voice you so loved from your house mate. It was a high pitched squeal which you were sure your house mate could not have produced. 
A yelp could be heard followed by loud shushes. 
You pushed your door open a smidge, peeking out into the hallway.
You blood ran cold.
Right by the front door was Wonwoo, making out with a girl.
You could feel a lump growing in your throat as you shut your door. You closed your eyes, trying your best to erase the sight. The image of your best friend’s lust-ladened eyes, arms encircled around another girl, lips on hers was burnt forever your memory. 
You felt yourself crumple against the floor. Your stared blankly into space for what felt like hours. The pit in your stomach grew with every second that passed. When you finally found the energy, you crawled over to your bed. Tears seeped from the corner of your eyes as you buried your face into your pillow. Trying to muffle the loud moans and groans coming from the other room. You brought a hand to your mouth, trying not to make a sound as you cried yourself to sleep.
So for now it’s only me, and maybe that’s all I need
“He’s a fucking asshole.” Chan cursed. 
You smiled weakly at your friend. The two of you sat in a booth at Chan’s favourite bar. You didn’t drink but he did. Chan had forced you out after you refused to leave your room for weeks.
“He knows you have feelings for him.” Chan hissed. “There’s no fucking way he doesn’t.”
You shrugged. After much pestering, you had finally relayed everything to Chan. Everything. From when you first met Wonwoo to when he brought a girl home. 
“I thought I would wai-,” You voice came out as a whisper, ashamed.
“Please don’t tell me. Wait?” Chan finished for you, tilting his glass of beer towards you. 
“Yup.” You said with a sigh. 
“Why wait for someone like him? Why wait for someone who doesn’t even care about you?” Chan said, sounding angrier and angrier by the second. 
His question stung. Deep down, you didn’t want to admit it, but you knew Wonwoo didn’t care about you. You knew he was just using you, keeping you around only because you made his life convenient. 
“Move out.” Chan demanded. 
“What?” You blurted, “Chan, I can’t just move out!” 
“Yes you can.” Chan pointed to himself. “Move in with me, I have a spare room!” 
“But what about Wonwoo?”
“What about that asshole?” Chan rolled his eyes. 
“I can’t just leave him like that.” You said, exasperated. You weren’t about to leave your best friend alone. 
“Why not?” Chan argued. “You think he won’t do the same to you? He’ll drop you the first chance he gets, y/n.”
You felt tears well up in your eyes. You loved Chan but there were times when he was too blunt. 
“Chan, please.” You whispered, tears started rolling down your eyes. 
“Ok, I’m sorry.” Chan immediately panicked. “I’m sorry I said that.”
He moved to sit next to you, rubbing your back as you sobbed into your bowl of fries. 
You moved out the next day, without so much as a goodbye to your childhood friend. 
a/n2: not very good at writing, quality is absolute crap imo considering i wrote this in under an hour. anything you guys think I should improve in lmk!
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supernovafics · 3 months
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𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔
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"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist
pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader
word count: 2.9k words
warnings: explicit language, (slight) jealous!steve, brief mention of blood/injury (reader has a lil fall)
summary: in which everything has changed for steve after that night at the bar and morning in your bed, but he hasn’t admitted that to you yet. being honest is much harder than he thought it would be and no moment feels completely right, so he continues to pretend that nothing has changed. but, a day at the park playing basketball with you makes it feel a thousand times harder to keep the secret
author's note: the slow burn will end one day (eventually) (i promise) i just love dragging things out for absolutely no reason<3 (i’m sorry!)<333 anyways enjoy this very slight jealous!steve moment! he’s a bit of an asshole in this but also like not really and it’s only kinda for a second
general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Winter 1986
It actually wasn’t all that surprising when Steve asked you to go to the park— that Saturday marked the first slightly warm day in months. 
And maybe saying that he “asked you” was a bit of a stretch because this felt more like a hostage situation; one that you technically orchestrated since, as one of his Christmas presents, you promised that you would play basketball with him one time. And today, on one of the first few days of March, he decided to drag you out of the apartment and to the park that was a quick drive away and had semi-nice basketball courts. 
You changed out of your typical Saturday attire, which simply consisted of a hoodie and shorts, and into a cream-colored t-shirt that said, “Sports Suck. And you do too” in black lettering, Steve got it for you for your birthday, and it felt almost too fitting for this moment. You also had on a pair of black athletic shorts that had been your usual attire during high school gym class.
“You’re the only person that I would ever subject myself to doing this for,” You said to Steve as you stepped out of his car and grabbed the basketball that had been sitting at your sneaker covered feet during the drive. “So, I hope you understand how huge of a deal this is.” 
Steve laughed a bit. “I know, and I feel honored that you’re risking your life by doing this for me right now.”
“You say that jokingly, but I brought a first aid kit just in case this ends badly,” You said and handed the basketball over to him. “So, what’s first? A riveting round of HORSE?”
“Before we play any games, and I beat you at all of them, let’s just shoot around for a bit so you can get used to it. Was the last time you played basketball really at my eleventh birthday party?” He asked, shooting the ball from a little bit in front of the three-point line as he spoke and making it almost too effortlessly. 
You grabbed the ball as it bounced on the court and then took a shot. You were standing much closer to the basket than Steve had been but still missed. 
“If that didn’t just answer your question, yes, your birthday party was the last time I even thought about playing. I actually think it was that day that made me realize I should stay away from all sports.”
“You hadn’t been that bad back then.”
You gave him a look. “Steve, I hit your grandma with a basketball. I missed a shot so bad that it hit her.”
It was that day that you were banned from using the basketball hoop in Steve’s backyard, rightfully so. 
“Okay, yeah, but she was fine and forgave you immediately. And even made sure you got an extra piece of cake when you started crying because of how bad you felt,” He said, tossing the ball to you so that you could try another shot. 
“Still doesn’t change the fact that I’m horrible at this,” You said before taking a breath and shooting the ball. You missed again, but it at least hit the rim that time. 
“That’s progress,” Steve said and gave you an encouraging smile.  
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Exactly twenty-three minutes had passed, and the only reason that you were keeping close track of the time was because when Steve had dragged you out of the apartment, you told him that you’d only be playing for an hour; unless you somehow turned into a prodigy. 
You had lost count of how many times you shot the basketball, but you knew that the number of times you successfully made a basket was four. It was an embarrassingly low number, and you definitely were not a prodigy, but each time you surprisingly made a shot, you’d gasp in shock and Steve would whoop happily and give you an enthusiastic high five while saying that the pointers he was giving you were working. You weren’t entirely sure that was true— and it wasn’t because he was a bad teacher, you were just a bad student. You were certain that each shot you made was based on pure luck and simple probability; if you kept shooting the ball, you’d eventually end up making something. 
And when you told Steve exactly that, he only shook his head at you. “No, you made those four shots because you’re good.” 
How happy and positive he was being about this entire thing was the only thing that made it bearable. 
You laughed a bit. “I love you and your encouragement, but that is such an overstatement.”
“For someone that hasn’t even touched a basketball in eight years, you are good.” 
“Thank you,” You said with an amused smile on your face instead of rebutting his statement. “I’ll make sure to try out for the local rec team when the time comes.” 
“That’s a great idea. I’ll coach you to help you prepare,” Steve said jokingly, and you only laughed in response. 
You were about to ask him to toss you the ball, but a group of guys walking past you two, probably headed to the empty hoop on the other side of the court, caught your attention for a second instead. There were four of them and one smiled at you as he passed by you and Steve and he was kind of cute so you smiled back. 
You were completely unaware, but there was something about that smile you gave the guy that made Steve have to look away from the entire nonverbal interaction and focus on the basketball in his hand instead. All too quickly he wanted to blurt it all out, everything that had hit him so abruptly that morning in your bed barely two weeks ago. 
I love you. I’m in love with you.
For the most part, that thought was the only thing that consumed his mind these days, especially when you two were together; which of course was way more often than not. 
There had probably been at least a hundred moments where he almost accidentally let it slip. Hours after it all had hit him, you two were sitting on the couch mindlessly watching some random sitcom and you leaned your head on his shoulder and he was so close to simply whispering it to you. And then when you two were in your Film and TV history class that Tuesday and writing unserious notes back and forth to one another in the margins of his notebook, he wanted to just write the five words down and slide the notebook back over to you. And just last night when you two were driving to the movie theater to see something with Robin and Eddie, he felt the urge to say it when a stupid love song that felt as if it cheesily summed up exactly how he was feeling came on the radio. 
However, he would always bite his tongue right before he told you because he was waiting for that perfect moment to be honest with you, and nothing felt entirely right just yet. And it especially didn’t feel like a good time in this moment where you were smiling at some guy that wasn’t him and a certain feeling that could only be deemed as jealousy sat in the pit of his stomach. 
Steve cleared his throat, bringing your attention back to him and then he tossed the ball to you. “Your turn.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
The first round of HORSE was started and finished barely fifteen minutes later, quickly ending with Steve winning. Even though you could tell that he was going very easy on you and trying to let you win, you still somehow managed to lose. 
“This loss feels so much more embarrassing knowing that you were trying to let me win,” You had said after you missed your shot and got an “E.” 
“I wasn’t,” Steve told you with a shake of his head and you only gave him a look that said you didn’t believe him. 
You reached down to grab the ball and stop it from rolling away, but you somehow tripped over nothing but your own feet and landed hard on the ground. 
You yelped as you collided with the concrete. Luckily, you thought fast enough to put your hands out so that you didn’t completely faceplant. “Ouch. Shit.” 
Steve was by your side in an instant and started helping you up. “Are you okay?”
You could only shrug in response to his question at first as you stood up with the help of his hand on your arm. 
“Okay, just kidding, that moment was a lot more embarrassing than losing the game,” You told him. When you looked down and saw the deep scrape on your knee and the blood already starting to rise from the wound, you immediately had to look away from it. “I put the first aid kit in the backseat.”
“What? You actually brought it? I thought you were joking,” Steve said, keeping an arm around you as he helped you walk over to the car and opened the passenger side door so that you could sit down. 
“Of course, I wasn’t joking. It felt inevitable that something like this would happen,” You said as you sat sideways in the passenger seat so that your feet were on the ground, and then you grabbed a couple napkins from the glove compartment to place it on your knee and help stop the bleeding. “Honestly, I’m surprised this didn’t happen in the first five minutes.”  
Steve grabbed the first aid kit before kneeling down in front of you and you looked at the four guys down at the end of the court. They were playing a two against two game and the one that smiled at you earlier just made a shot at the three-point line. 
You stopped looking at him and instead focused on the top of Steve’s head. “Ugh, I can’t believe I just fell in front of that cute guy.” 
“Maybe he didn’t even see,” Steve mumbled with a quick shrug.
“I doubt that,” You said and then sighed. “These last few weeks have been very humbling. First, things immediately going downhill with Jamie, and now this.” 
Steve didn’t know how things had ended with Jamie, you had yet to tell him the exact reasoning, but selfishly he had been glad that they did. Although he couldn’t find it in him to tell you the truth just yet, the thought of now having to see you with anyone else annoyed him. 
You tapped his shoulder so that he would look up at you. “It would be a bad idea if I went up to him and asked for his number, right?” 
“Yeah, it would,” Steve answered, pulling his eyes away from yours and focusing on grabbing something from the first aid kit instead. His words were a lie, for the most part— he personally would’ve thought it was cute if a girl did that to him. He immediately felt like shit for lying to you, but not enough to go back on what he said. 
You nodded at his response. “Okay.”
You kept your eyes away from what Steve was doing as he cleaned up your knee, looking up at the sky instead until he was done and placing the large band-aid over it. 
“Thanks,” You said and smiled at him. 
He looked up at you for a brief moment before standing up and simply giving you a small nod. He went over to grab the basketball, which had rolled into the grass, and then put it in the backseat. 
The drive back to the apartment was quiet and it felt more like Steve’s doing than yours. He suddenly seemed distant, maybe even mad at you, and the abrupt shift felt so odd.
You looked over at him. “What’s wrong?” 
He shook his head. “I’m fine.” 
It felt pretty clear that he wasn’t fine, though. You could tell that he was annoyed at you for reasons that you couldn’t decipher and that only made you annoyed as well. You didn’t even play with the radio during the drive back to the apartment, you just sat there with your arms folded across your chest as you stared out the window. 
You wondered if the prevailing silence bothered him as much as it bothered you, but then that question didn’t even matter because he was pulling into the parking lot of the apartment building and parking in the usual open spot next to your car, and you were unbuckling your seatbelt. 
“What happened with you and Jamie?” Steve asked before you could open the door and step out of his car. “You never really talked about it.” 
The abruptness of the question surprised you; and it wasn’t even the question itself that was the surprising part, it was more so the timing of it. Was that why he decided to randomly get mad at you? Because you never told him what happened on that dumb date? And why the hell would it even matter at this point? 
You weren’t even entirely sure why you hadn’t told Steve the full extent of what happened. When you came back from the date that night, you only said that things had gone badly. 
You turned to look at Steve. “He didn’t like you.” 
His eyebrows furrowed at that. “What?”
“Well, not you necessarily, but us; our friendship,” You said, looking down at your band-aid-covered knee. “When me and him went on the date, he asked about what my emergency was and why I had to cancel the date the first time, and I told him about your accidental phone call and you being drunk at the bar and me having to go get you, and he didn’t see that as much of an emergency; especially since you had wanted Eddie to pick you up. He thought it was a little weird how easily I canceled plans to go do something for you, and the whole night kind of shifted awkwardly from there.”
You remembered that entire conversation perfectly, and you honestly couldn’t even get that annoyed with Jamie when he said any of that because you didn’t think that your priorities would ever be able to change. Steve would probably always be at the top of your unwritten list, and you had come to the conclusion that whoever else wanted to be in your life would just have to deal with that. 
“Oh.”
You looked at him curiously. “What?”
“Nothing,” Steve shook his head. “I’m sorry.” 
Hearing him say that only confused you. “Sorry for what?”
He was quiet for a long moment before sighing. “I don’t know…” 
“Is that why you were mad at me just now? Because I didn’t tell you what happened on the date?”
“No, I don’t even know why I brought it up right now, I was just curious,” He said with a shrug before meeting your gaze. “And I’m not mad at you for anything. I promise.” 
“Okay…” You said as you found one of his hands and gave it a light squeeze. “So, what’s up with you? Clearly, something’s wrong, right? Is it something with your parents?”
“No, nothing with them,” He responded, which was an answer that only confused you more. It looked like there were a thousand things going through his head right then, and you couldn’t seem to decipher any of it, which felt foreign to you— you were so used to reading him like a book. “It’s just… it’s kind of hard to explain right now.”
If it really had nothing to do with his parents, you were unsure what else it could be and what else would be difficult to talk to you about. In your head, there wasn’t supposed to be anything that you couldn’t talk to each other about; you were best friends for a reason. It was easy to joke around and playfully banter with one another, but it had also always been easy to have the types of deep and honest conversations that neither of you would ever have with anyone else. 
You decided not to push him further in this moment, though. Whatever was going on with him, you knew that he’d tell you eventually. 
“It’s okay. Tell me whenever you want to,” You said softly and then decided to say your next words jokingly to shift the mood a bit. “But stop being weird about whatever it is, or I will think that you hate me or something.”
Steve only shook his head at your words at first. “I could never hate you.”
Maybe that was when you should’ve seen it, when you should’ve realized how he felt about you. There was something about the way he said his short statement— so certainly, so truthfully— that should’ve made you connect all of the dots. But, that was the last possible thing on your mind. You would’ve thought that he wanted to move out of the apartment for some random reason before you even considered thinking that he had any sort of romantic feelings toward you. You two had been friends for forever so that just didn’t sound like a plausible thought. 
Therefore, instead of any sort of “aha!” moment hitting you right then, you smiled playfully at Steve and said, “Good.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
let me know ur thoughts<333
(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)
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tzuyuscloud · 5 months
Text
My Loser Kim M.J x fem!deaf reader
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A/n: This fic took awhile because I have no knowledge of Sensorineural hearing loss (SHL) whatsoever and wanted to get an understanding so I was reading articles and watching videos. If any information is incorrect please don’t hesitate to correct me respectfully. :)
Pairings: deaf!reader x non idol Kim Minji
Scenario: Kim Minji finds you in the art studio alone after being harassed by fellow students.
Warnings: Mention of blood, bullying, horrible parents, ableism (NEVER BE ABLEIST PEOPLE >:| )
Tags: Romace, college au, friends to lovers, angst??, art student y/n, loser Minji
⋆˙⟡ Star ⋆˙⟡
If my tears fall
Down in my universe
Turns into a new world
Time to find my way back home
As a famous artist said, “painting is just another way of keeping a diary.” And that’s exactly how y/n saw her creative process. As painting. She first started painting when she was 12 years old after she felt like her life was meaningless, she felt like she didn’t have anyone who understood her pain, so she spoke to a canvas. Sneaking into her grandfather’s studio and started splashing paint on the canvas, not caring when drops of color stained her freshly washed uniform.
She would come home and get interrogated by her parents as to why she was covered in paint, and she would sarcastically state the obvious, “i was painting, duh.” Thus being the beginning of her artists life when her parents placed her in an art school where she discovered more of her hidden talents with art.
Now as y/n was in her sophomore year of university, majoring in fine arts but focusing on painting specifically, she improved with every new painting she created. Her classmates envied the fact that she was a natural born genius, but the only thing that made her different than everyone else is the fact that she couldn’t hear.
Y/n’s classmates often sabotaged her works so that they wouldn’t be displayed in competitions or recognized by guest artists. They all envied her to the point where they often hurt her as well.
“Oh my, look what we have here” a group of students, led by one of the board members daughter, walked into the studio where y/n stayed painting late at night. Her body tensed up feeling the familiar vibrations of their footsteps causing her to jump when Jimin placed her hand on her shoulder.
“Whatcha painting?” Jimin said as she bent down to your level causing your arm to shakily create a false line on the brightly decorated canvas, ruining the painting. You closed your eyes hoping that they would disappear along with the world, often times when you we’re overwhelmed you would just close your eyes and turn down your hearing aid, because then the world would actually disappear.
“remember she can’t hear you.” one of Jimin’s little minions retorted causing the leader to roll her eyes.
“don’t be fooled, she has an hearing aid” Jimin then taps the device causing y/n to jump and clutch her ear, she angrily faced Jimin with a frown upon her face, looking eye to eye with the girl. “watch who your glaring at before I make you blind too!” Jimin smacked the girl on the head forcing her to look down,
“you think you’re entering the art competition? Ha, funny. You have no reason to be at this school anyways let alone enter into a competition. You will always be lower than everyone else-”
Jimin was cut off by a painful feeling that lingered on her cheek causing her and everyone around her to gasp and stare at y/n in shock. “the only low one is you.” y/n whispered, her voice shaky as she was now afraid of what was to come.
“oh~ how brave of our little y/n” Jimin smiled before grabbing your hair. While the rest of the girls knifed the painting, shredding up the canvas.
_
“ayo Minji! Make sure to grab everything from out of the locker that is labeled with red tape.”
“bruh, you literally said this already, I got it, I got it. How hard can going into the art building and grabbing your materials be?” Minji groaned on the phone, as she walked towards the entrance of the art building. It was pushing midnight and Danielle needed her art supplies that she had forgotten, but ended up catching a cold and wasn’t able to get them, so Minji being a great friend offered to grab them for the girl.
“alright alright! Thanks again Min, I owe you one!” Danielle smiled through the phone before hanging up. Minji walked through the halls, searching for studio 214A when she heard small noises coming from a fairly lit room. She peaked her head in the entrance and found a small girl sitting on the ground picking what looked like broken materials up while wiping away at her nose.
Once Minji squinted to get a closer look she saw what she was wiping wasn’t snot but blood, causing her eyes to widen and immediately run to the girl. “Hey bro are you alright, your nose-“ As the girl looked up at Minji from the shadow she casted. Minji saw that her lip was bruised and she had a scar on her head as well. “who did this to you?” she frowned. Y/n didn’t respond but just stared up the taller woman with tired eyes.
“can I help you with your wounds at least?” Minji asked again hoping for at least a nod. Y/n then pointed to the expensive hearing device that laid crushed into small pieces on the ground next to her. Minji felt her heart sink into her stomach as her eyes paneled to the broken device to y/n’s bleeding ear in which the device used to sit in.
Minji then squeaked out a small, “y-you can’t hear me?- minji don’t be stupid” before grabbing her phone and typing out sentences.
Who did this to you? Im gonna help you with your wounds if that is okay with you?
She faced the screen towards y/n and gently places it in her hands. Y/n looked up at Minji with soft eyes before typing something back.
Jimin and her friends.
Okay
Y/n handed the phone back to Minji and Minji never ran to grab a first aid kit so fast in her life once she got y/n’s consent to help her. She gently dabbed all the scars with cotton balls and places bandaids on them all, before picking up the pieces to the very expensive device and placed them in a plastic baggie for y/n.
Once she helped her clean up everything, including herself she offered to walk y/n home.
Do you stay alone?
Minji shook her head no at the question before softly speaking, “I live with my friend.” she said quietly leaving Minji shocked. She didn’t know the girl could speak, but she also knew very little about the girl and her her disability in the first place.
“What’s your name?” Minji asked and earning silence as she stupidly didn’t type out the question.
What’s your name?
Mine is Kim Minji
Y/n stared up at Minji and smiled, “Park f/n” she spoke. Every time y/n spoke, Minji got excited inside as the girl’s soft voice healed something inside of her. The whole way to y/n’s apartment was filled with Minji asking questions and eventually exchanging numbers where Minji texted y/n all through the night.
_
Minji still couldn't get the phrase "Jimin and her friends" out of her head. Doing everything she could to try and figure out who exactly Jimin was and why she would ever physically harm anyone.
Minji "Dani I have a question." The bright faced Aussie looked up at her best friend with a smile,
"What's up?"
"Mmm you're in the art department a lot," Minji paused "do you know someone who goes by the name Jimin?" just then Danielle's eyes widened and she let out a small gasp.
"ugh!! everyone knows her! Look I'm not one to talk behind people's backs but she is a bully" Dani huffed out with an animated frown. Danielle was never one to talk badly about people, in fact she spoke to everyone no matter how they came off or appeared, and if she saw someone who was sad, all she had to do was flash her signature smile and suddenly all clouds were replaced with sunshine and warmth. "Why do you ask though, Min?"
"Well when I went to get your supplies last night...there was this girl-erm Park f/n, and she was hurt badly. She said Jimin and her friends did it to her and that they always hurt her." Just then Minji was looking down and picking at her fingers, something she has a habit of doing when she's anxious.
Danielle jumped up from her spot on the sofa, "Wait...y/n?!" she slapped her hand over her mouth causing Minji's eyes to widen.
"w-what? is there something wrong?"
Danielle sat down after calming herself down to make her poor friend less worried, "that poor girl, she's in majority of my classes but I haven't noticed she was being assaulted." tears welled in the younger girl's eyes. "I try talking to her but she just rolls her eyes and looks away. I don't think she likes me"
Minji comforted her best friend as she pouted about the thought of someone potentially not liking her. "Dani"
"hmm?" the brunette faced her friend.
"y/n is deaf. Have you not known?" Minji asked genuinely. Danielle dropped the fruit that was in her hand and slowly turned to Minji.
She didn't know wether to keep her mouth open or close it but she looked like a fish out of water, "Im such a horrible person, everyday I would ask her questions and try to make conversation but- wow."
Minji cut the girl off, "well from what I have learned she can hear when she has her hearing aid, but recently it was broken because of those bitches. And when I catch them I will-" Danielle cut the girl off with a worried stare.
"Hey I know you are worried about y/n but violence does not solve more violence! What we need to do is report this to the school immediately to get justice for y/n." Danielle stood up proudly, while Minji scoffed from her place on the couch.
"Beating Jimin's ass seems like enough justice for me" she mumbled, earning a glare from the peaceful girl.
The older girl stood up, patting her best friend on the back, "well good luck with your peace treaties. Im gonna go take y/n out to eat"
"oh a date?~" Danielle teased causing Minji to blush, "no! she doesn't like me like that"
"But YOU never denied not liking her so, a one sided date, eh?" Danielle urged on, Minji grabbed the nearest pillow from the couch and smacked her friend on the head before running out the shared apartment.
"Ill be back!" she shouted on her way out.
_
Entering the small cafe, Minji noticed how you doodled in a sketchbook as you waiting for her to arrive.
“Hi y/n!” she greeted waving, silence. Her brows furrowed in confusion going to wave again but then as she walked to take a seat, she noticed that the small pink device was no longer in your ear.
Once she sat down you looked up feeling her presence, flashing her a small smile. You took out a small, cutely decorated notebook that was filled with stickers, and a pen before scribbling a few words down.
Hi!! :) I apologize, I can’t get a new hearing aid until next month. My parents are too busy to ship it to me
What kind of parents are too busy to tend to their own child?! Minji thought to herself. She couldn’t help but wonder why they would brush her off like that.
It’s okay, we can talk like this. Look.
Minji then tapped the table in y/n’s line of sight to get her attention. Her hands then started moving, forming words that were a bit choppy but still clearly showed that she put effort and time into learning.
‘Im learning sign language so you can speak comfortably’ her heart was racing afraid she messed up a few signs, because y/n just stared. She then smiled and looked down shyly trying to contain her excitement as no one has ever tried learning sign language to try and communicate with her, not even her own parents.
Y/n’s fingers swiftly flowed in different directions, speaking freely and comfortably. Although Minji couldn’t catch half of what she was saying, she still gazed at her with bright eyes.
“Thank you” Y/n whispered as she signed so that Minji could learn along with her, “for being nice to me” she said softly, looking up at Minji’s big brown eyes that never left hers.
Minji had ordered their food and drinks, sharing everything she had as y/n told her that she rarely tries new stuff because she is never introduced to anything.
I used to travel and do fun things before…the accident
Y/n gently pushed the book towards Minji as she cutely stuffed her face with fruit, earning a slight giggle from the opposite girl.
“Accident?” Minji mumbled to herself. Y/n let out a “hmm?” as she saw Minji’s lips move.
Accident?
Minji wrote but then quickly scribbled more,
You don’t have to tell me, it sounds personal
Y/n laughed at the panic writing, waving her hand and brushing it off.
It’s okay, I will tell you another time
You nodded before changing the subject, engaging in conversation that had you both laughing for hours without realizing how much time has passed. On your way back to her apartment, you heard her let out a small gasp and point to the small arcade that brightly lit up the evening skies. She took your hand, pulling you towards the machines as she eyes all of the plushies.
Letting out of the words “I want” slightly below a whisper. Minji couldn’t help but cave into her cute squeals of excitement as she pointed to all of the plushies she eyed. Pulling her wallet out she placed two bills into the machine bringing it to life.
Y/n excitedly jumped to hold the levers and when she thought she had the correct spot, she pushed the button. The claw grabbed the stuffed bunny, bringing it to the drop but dropping the bunny right next to it instead, before powering down.
The girl turned to Minji, puffing her bottom lip out in a pout before turning to walk away. Before she could take another step, Minji grabbed her arm, bringing her to a stop. The older girl then placed more money into the machine, focusing hard on the task at hand as she pushed the button. She hadn’t realized she closed her eyes, hoping that she would win the plush before she was shaken awake by y/n who was jumping around with the pink plushie in her arms.
“Bun bun! Bun bun!” she squeaked happily prancing around Minji who watched with sparkles in her eyes. She wrapped her arm around the smaller girl’s shoulder, walking her home before it got too late.
Y/n stood on her porch with a red tint to her face as she failed to look Minji in the eyes. “m’bye.” she waved, “thank you for winning bun bun” she spoke again and before she turned to enter her home, she quickly gave Minji a peck on the cheek before running inside.
Minji on the other hand, was stunned.
“She wants me bro!” The older girl said as her roommate rolled her eyes, laughing at the description story of their “hang out”
“That’s cute, she sounds adorable I wanna be her friend” Dani pouted remembering the fact that, said girl side eyes her during class. “what about me do you think she hates?”
Minji’s thick brows spoke before she did, “I wouldn’t say she hates you, she just doesn’t let her guard down easily” which confused her since she spoke to you easily. “I don’t know why she clings to me so quickly though”
Danielle laughed, “are you serious Min, you’re literally like a golden retriever. Your aura is so welcoming.” Minji blushed at the compliments,
“you think im a golden retriever girl” she wiggled her brows causing the both of them to burst into laughter. “but on a serious note, I think I like y/n”
The Australian girl looked at her roommate with a ‘duh bitch’ look, “I thought we all knew this?” she said with sass.
“I- goodnight”
-
Given y/n’s situation, she still had no hearing aid, causing her hell during her lectures as she had to rely on notes from generous classmates. She came from a well off family, growing her her parents would take her and her older brother on vacations and many outings, spoiling them, especially y/n since she was their princess. Treating her to whatever she wanted. Despite being handed whatever as a kid, her mother was still very strict and controlling at times.
You were always sent to every educational lesson after school as well as extracurriculars, and once she found out you had a talent in art, she ran with it and enrolled you in art programs. The life you had before the accident was chaotic, you didn’t enjoy it but you tolerated it because it was better than most. Though after the accident, you were pushed away. You were no longer the “princess” but more so the “burden.” You vividly remember your mother screaming at you to listen to what she was saying, even though you couldn’t clearly distinguish what she was saying.
She was in denial about her daughter being deaf to the point where she refused to tell anyone. Instead she blocked you out from the world, Park y/n had disappeared from the wealthy social circle and sent to study at a well off university. Anything to keep you out of your mother’s sight.
A knock sounded at your apartment door causing your roommate to jump up from her spot at the kitchen table to grab it. You looked up at the shuffles to find your older brother entering the place, smiling as she made conversation with your roommate.
He then looked at you with a smile before signing, “how are you, princess?” as you sat on the couch curled in a ball under blankets. You flashed him a thumbs up. You watched as he pulled a pink bag from behind his back, eyes following his every move as he handed you the bag. You looked up at him with a confused face considering there were no major holidays or birthdays near.
You opened the box and saw a brand new hearing aid. You looked up at your brother before tearing up. “thank you” you mumbled, wrapping your arms around him. Part of you didn’t wanna let go as it felt like that was the only family you had that truly cared about you.
“Of course you know…since I caused it” he whispered as he rubbed his neck. You knew he would forever feel everlasting guilt for what he did.
Summer of 2016
“Wait for me!” scrawny little y/n ran as fast as she could behind her brother and his friends. Her pink sundress flying with each stride, and her bare feet connecting with the grass.
She huddled around the older boys as they all piled fireworks on top of each other in the field. Different kind of pyro tied together and linked by a singular string that would be lit.
“This is gonna be awesome! I can’t wait to see the explosion” Y/n’s brother exclaimed, tackling one of his friends. Y/n was oblivious to what was actually happening, and got easily distracted by the beautiful flowers that coincidentally surrounded the pile of pyro.
She wasn’t aware of the stack being lit until she heard constant shouting from her brother and the rest of the guys. “Y/N MOVE!!” As she turned around she was thrown back as the fireworks went off in front of her. She felt someone pick her up saving her from the rest of the loud explosion.
All she could do was cry as she covered both of her ears. “It hurts!” the little girl sobbed. From the commotion her parents ran outside to see what had happened and was met with their daughter being cradled in her brother’s arms crying. She was covered in burn marks from head to toe.
“What happened?! What did you boys do?!!” Mrs. Park shouted, grabbing her daughter. Leaving no time to explain she rushed off to the hospital with her husband not too far behind with the boys.
Hours spent in the waiting room, the doctor had eventually came bearing the news of their daughter. “Miss y/n is doing fine. She is very brave for her age” he complimented.
Mrs. Park smiled faintly, “thank you doctor, is she healthy?” The man’s smile faded at the question before exhaling.
“Your daughter has hearing loss in both ears, she can respond to some sound but only depending how close she is to the noise. We recommend seeing a specialist for ears so that she can get a proper hearing aid that works best for her.” Mrs. Park threw herself into her husband’s chest with loud sobs.
“What am I gonna do with her now! I can’t let the world know she’s deaf!” she sobbed causing a gasp from the doctor. Y/n’s brother on the other hand felt guilty for what happened never thinking he could look his baby sister in the eyes again.
-
Moving forward, y/n got left at home and forgotten by her mother. She no longer received attention, not even basic conversations from her mother. She was put in more activities and after school classes to stay out of sight of her mother. The world had forgotten that the Park family had a daughter as she was hidden.
Present day
Y/n and her brother, Kai sat on the couch catching up about each other as Kai took over their father’s company.
“How’s mom and dad? Have they asked about me?” y/n whimpered, hating the fact that her own parents lost love for her, their one and only daughter.
Kai pulled his little sister in for a hug, “Father worries about you, he always talks about how he misses his little princess” you smiled at the thought of your father missing you, the thought warming your heart. “but mother. She’s still a cold hearted b-“
“woah okay okay, I see” You lightly laughed.
Kai then changed the subject, “What about you though sis, how has school been?”
All of a sudden you blurted out, “I think I like someone.” covering your mouth quickly. Kai started squealing like a teenage girl,
“omg omg what’s their name!?” He clapped his hands causing you to burst into laughter.
“Stop being silly, haha. Her name is Kim Minji” you said with a deep red tint forming on your cheeks. “We went to a cafe together and she helped me when I was…stuck on…an art project haha” you laughed nervously. You never wanted Kai to get worried about you if you told him about Jimin and her clan.
“she wants you” He joked, but little did you both know she actually did.
-
Minji: Would you like to go on a date Saturday evening?
Minji was pacing back and forth her apartment as she panicked at the message she impulsively sent to y/n. “You will be fine girlfriend, I doubt she would say no” Danielle gave the older girl a pat on the shoulder to reassure her.
“But what if she thinks Im some old creep who just happened to win her a plushie at the arcade and learn sign language?!” Minji pulled at her hair causing Danielle to roll her eyes.
“Puh-lease. She would never-“ the sound of the phone going off caught their attention. Minji quickly picked the phone up, reading the message aloud.
“I would love to, smiley face. SHE WANTS ME!” The Korean girl shouted before jumping around the apartment.
Dani laughed as she walked back into her room, “Nerd”
-
Minji laid in the sand next to y/n taking in the evening sky after a long day of playing in the water and writing in the sand. “I’ve never had this much fun since I was a kid” Y/n whispered turning to face Minji. “Thank you for accepting me Min” The words left Minji speechless at the thought of people not accepting her because of her disability.
Minji sat up, causing y/n to follow as she was concerned by the girl’s sudden movements. “You’re more than what people think you are y/n, and those who don’t accept you don’t deserve you because you are everything anyone could ask for and I-“ Pausing abruptly her heart started racing as she almost slipped up and confessed her feelings to the younger girl.
“You what?” Y/n smiled cheekily, playfully hitting Minji’s arm. Her face turning redder than the sunset as she started fumbling like the loser she was.
‘I like you, y/n’
Y/n’s eyes widened in shock, hoping she wasn’t hallucinating what she just saw you sign to her. “Like…like as a friend or-“
Before she could finish her sentence Minji grabbed her face, finally feeling the softness of y/n’s lips, the softness she had always imagined being on hers since the day she saw you in the art studio. You returned the kiss pulling her closer to you afraid it was all a lucid dream that would fade away as soon as you let go.
“Like you like you, as in I want you to be my girlfriend” Minji panted as she broke the kiss that had you feeling all kinds of butterflies.
“Such a loser” y/n giggled and threw herself in Minji’s arms. “But you’re my loser”
“SHE SAID YES!!” Minji stood up cheering for everyone to hear, “Park y/n is my girlfriend!!!” You couldn’t help but laugh at the action and when Minji turned to face you again, you couldn’t help but notice the sparkle in her eyes.
Pulling her into a hug while burying your face in her shirt you mumbled, “Kim Minji is my loser”
668 notes · View notes
octuscle · 2 months
Note
this is an urgend call for help! I'm a 29yo teacher in europe and I have a problem with one of my students. He's 18yo, the star of the soccer team and of the whole school. he's looking at me and talking with me in a very special way. So I think he has a crush on me. I've to give him a lot of detention but he seems to enjoy it. Last time he says at the end: "soon you're one of us - your countdown is on...' pls tell me he hasn't used your program. If he has, stop this countdown immediately
According to a scribble in the student restroom, you are supposed to be the school's sexiest teacher for the third year in a row. Someone has sketched your cock next to this note. Obviously life-size, because the doodle is impressively large.
Well, you can't be the sexiest teacher for the third time because you've only been here at the school for two years. Before that you were at university. First in Milwaukee. Then actually only for two semesters in Lund, Sweden. But you fell in love with Sweden. And now you are very happy to have got a job as a sports and math teacher at the sports high school in Malmö. Sport here at the school usually almost automatically means "soccer", but as a native American you have less to do with it. Your sports are badminton, athletics and windsurfing in the summer.
You almost despair of the soccer star. A stinking lazy pupil. Certainly not stupid. But really lazy and uncooperative. According to his coach, he is the most disciplined person imaginable on the pitch. Here in math class, he's definitely not. Absolutely not! "Soon you'll be one of us - your countdown is on". That was yesterday… Today, once again, he didn't even show up for math class. Shit, he's ruining his whole career. Besides, you kind of miss him… He's not just a student… He's also kind of… A buddy! Damn, you can't have thoughts like that with a student!
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You are looking for your student on the soccer field. Of course he's there. Of course he doesn't have a guilty conscience. Shit, of course you can understand him. After all, soccer is your life too. It was always your dream to become a professional soccer player. But unlike him, you were simply never good enough.
You try to talk him into his conscience without being such a bourgeois. You want to come across as cool. But on the other hand, you also know that you have to assert yourself as a teacher. It's your last traineeship. You'll graduate next year. Now you're still somewhere between the teachers and the students. It's a shitty situation. And the jock just laughs at you when you reprimand him. He says you'll soon be in detention together.
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You are actually a really hard-working student. You are very keen to do well in your exams. You definitely want to work as a teacher at this sports high school. Soccer and math. That would be exactly your combination of subjects. But you can't study tonight. The day as a volunteer at the school was really exhausting. Before you go jogging for another hour, you look in the mirror as you change into your sports clothes. The fucking spots just won't go away. You still look a bit like you're still in puberty. But you finally seem to be growing hair on your chest. Maybe you will become a real guy after all. Whether the soccer star likes hair on his chest. Or if he has any himself? The thought of him gives you a boner!
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When you wake up the next morning, you pick up where you left off yesterday. With a boner. My goodness, since you've been doing the internship here at the school, you've been kind of hard all the time. Of course, you've got a whole lot of damn tight guys among the other freshmen at your university… But the boys here at the sports high school are in a different league. They wank wherever they go and wherever they stand. And since you've been here, you've joined in.
You've been given a single room at the sports boarding school for the duration of your internship. You have a washbasin in your room, but you share the toilet and shower with the boys from the upper school. You're 21, hardly older than the guys who will be graduating this year. But you're still not allowed to fuck them. Even as a freshman and an intern, you are formally a member of the teaching staff. What a load of shit! How you'd love to let the star of the soccer team fuck you in the shower. It's obvious he wouldn't be averse either.
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The internship sucks. Sitting in class without being able to shape it but already knowing everything is even more stressful and boring than it is for the students. Nevertheless, you try to look like you're paying attention and taking notes. This is actually more of a strategy to avoid falling asleep. You can hardly wait until soccer practice finally starts. You can just play along. You're more of a pupil than a teacher. The coach praises you and says that you're wasting a great talent as a sports teacher. He asks you to take the team star under your wing for a while. He could certainly learn a lot from you. Hehehehehe, you think to yourself. I'm sure you could from him too!
After training, you go to the gym for a bit of strength endurance training. Suddenly the soccer star is standing behind you. He runs his hand under your sweaty jersey and plays with your nipple. Thank God you're alone in the gym. You take off your jersey and he sucks on your nipples like a puppy on its mother's teats. Shit, his smell of wet grass and sweat alone is driving you crazy. With one hand you take your boner out of your pants. With the other, you push his head down. He blows like the devil. And you cum like a fire hose.
A delicate fuzz appears on your upper lip. That's the only good thing about fucking puberty. Your voice is cracking. Your pimples are annoying. And every other morning you wake up in a huge mess in your bed. Every morning that Lars hasn't blown you first. Or you blew him. You're congenial on the soccer pitch. Whatever congenial means. But the coach always says that. You think you're totally congenial in the shower and on the toilet and in all sorts of other places too. The fact that Lars and you met here at the boarding school is damn lucky!
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You've been inseparable since you were 18 at the latest. During the week at Intermat, at the weekends either with your parents. Or at his. Your parents are cool. Although you're not sure if they know what you're up to.
Lars and you both think school sucks. You're here to become professional footballers. You don't need fucking math or history for that. Your coach predicts a glorious future for both of you. The man is cool. He's ancient, probably already 30 or so. But much more relaxed than your other teachers. And he'll cover for you if you skip math again. But only if you've used the time for fitness or technique training. If you don't show full commitment, the coach has no mercy.
It is an honor to have been accepted at this school. You have no intention of disgracing the school!
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It's a common saying that the two of you only exist in a double pack. Your classmates have turned 'Lars' and 'Zlatan' into 'Latan'. It's no coincidence that your name is Zlatan. Your parents are huge fans of Zlatan Ibrahimoviv. And the fact that you made it to school here in his community, that you are the second Zlatan to become a national player from Rosengård, makes your parents proud. But if you become a national player, Lars will also have to play for the national team. That's a matter of honor. You look at yourself in the mirror. The fuzz on your upper lip isn't quite ready for a cool beard like the one your role model has. And your parents never allowed you to have long hair. But since you've come of age, you've let it grow. It won't be long before you look like the great Zlatan!
You don't like it when Lars and you are put on opposing teams in tournaments. But Coach is right, of course, he needs to train your killer instinct. An opponent is an opponent. Even if you occasionally get shagged by the center forward. And how you get fucked. Shit, your cock is already famous in the changing rooms near and far. But against Lars' beast… You're nothing…
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It's pouring with rain. The soccer match was a mud fight. But you won. "As we agreed, the loser has to blow the winner" you tell Lars after the final whistle. "I can't wait to suck your cheesy boner clean" Lars replies with a grin. Even though almost everyone knows that you are a couple, you are usually rather reserved in public. But today… Fuck it!
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macsimagines · 8 months
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Hello again dearest! I hope you’ve been doing well and that life has been treating you kindly ♡
With my second and third Uni midterms looming over me, I would like to request Yan! Izana, Ran, & Shin with a foreign darling~ One who is an international university student in Japan on a student visa
And if it’s not too long, I’d like a follow up of their darling taking them to visit their home country for the holidays since the Yan’s can’t bear to be apart from their darling especially when they would be overseas alone without them ♡♡
I've actually had foreign japanese students at my old school and uni though we weren't' close wish i couldve interacted more and maybe learned something from them hah
TW: YANDERE BEHAVIOR, MINORS DNI, BABY TRAPPING, SCUM BAG BEHAVIOR
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Yandere! Izana Kurokawa
He was attracted to you right away, not even romantically or physically, just having been of mixed decent and then seeing someone who might relate to his own experiences interested him.
Became very romantically interested after a few interactions however, you had such a fresh perspective as a foreigner and some of the things he's had to live through seemed to resonate with you.
"Your step-mom was straightup evil. No kid should have to go through that, and I hope your kingdom is as beautiful as you make it out to be."
Hooked for life right away. And also distraught at the thought of you leaving, would constantly try to convince you to get a citizenship and just live here forever with him.
"Why even go back if I'm here?" Is one thousand percent serious, you've become such a huge part of his entire being so it must be the same for you right?
When you convince him to come with you on holiday home to meet your family though, something changes. You don't have to stay in Japan, you just have to stay with him.
As long as you're together than everything will work out. It wasn't like you could so much as leave his place without him being glued to your hip, good luck getting out of the country without him tagging along.
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Yandere! Ran Haitani
He is sooo enamored by you. Fetishizing people because of their race is so goddamn gross but the fact that you're foreign definitely is what attracts him to you to begin with.
Ran is so toxic with it to. Calls you exotic like its some kind of compliment, tells you you're accent is soooo cute when you're doing your best to sound natural, makes fun of you for every mispronunciation.
But you don't know anyone in Japan and he's 6'1 so you put up with it. He's just so tall and pretty and he knows all the best spots in roppongi so of course you choose to suck it up.
Afterall, its not like it's forever. He's just your heavy and hot fling that you can go home and brag to your friends about, right? Wrong. He's sprung bitch and you're stuck with him.
"Hey, when are we going to your neck of the woods for this holiday?" "...We?" "Ya, I gotta pack and get my ticket soon, right?"
Hope you're ready to disappoint your folks now that you're bringing home this freak show. Don't forget his dream is to become a foreign celebrity so he wants to experience it all when he visits with you.
"Man, this trip is so much fun. I can't wait for next year."
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Yandere!Shinichiro Sano
Worships you. He can't spit game for shit, but thankfully you don't understand him too well to begin with. It's a match made in heaven!
He doesn't make fun of you when you get your words wrong or fumble a sentence, but he does think its so cute. Shinichiro doesn't try to infantilize you but it does come off like that.
God the fact that you want him and you stick with him even though he's such a dork makes him love you so much, he doesn't even think he deserves you.
Hates it when you go home the first time. He can't even talk to you on the phone because of service issues, and trust me this dude was ready to take out loans for collect call just to hear your voice.
Bombards you with all kinds of questions like "Who did you see? Who were you with? Are you going back!?"
So my big headcanon is that he's a baby trapper. So when you talk about going next season he's already trying to figure out how knock you up.
Ends up fucking you with busted condoms (he poked holes) a few weeks before your trip because he needed to give you a VERY good reason to come back.
Just tells you "It's cause I'm going to miss you so much baby, I gotta get as much of you as I can. :)"
You end up surprising him with a ticket for him to come with you. He honestly could cry tears of joy, but he'll save it for when you discover his own little surprise.
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bbobpul · 4 months
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my youth is yours — jeno
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NOTE. hey 😮‍💨 sorry for ghosting
PAIRING. jeno x reader
GENRE. hurt/comfort, angst
SYNOPSIS. entering adulthood with you long-term boyfriend, jeno
WARNINGS. dis might hurt bc iz lil realistic 😫
W/C. 3.1k
masterlist ⟵⁠(⁠o⁠_⁠O⁠)
Is love something you can learn, or is it engraved in your bones the moment you open your eyes to the world? Is it something you master, or something you feel on a random Thursday night after spending the day with someone who made your heart skip a beat? Is this something you develop after years of spending every moment of your life with the same person?
Because, to you, love means only one thing. Love can only come from one person. Love can only be felt with Jeno.
No, you didn't grow up together or meet in a special way. He was merely there, but it suddenly felt like more.
The two of you met in high school. It was nothing special. High school brings you into contact with a large number of people. You create a lot of friendships in high school. But it was Jeno, and one day you were paired up with him on a minor project set by your teacher because she would be gone for a short while.
Before long, a bond formed between you, blossoming into a friendship that extended beyond school hours. You'd hang out after classes, help each other with homework, and share late-night thoughts, and the absence of each other during the day would leave the day incomplete.
Everything proceeded at exactly an appropriate pace—it wasn't rushed or fast, nor was it painfully slow. It was just right with Jeno.
Looking back at your first few years with him, it seemed so natural and carefree. Seeing him was like having a ton of weight lifted off your shoulders—of course, the same is true for him. You appear as though you wince at his corny antics, but deep down, you both know that you feel the same way. He kept telling you, "Your love fills me up with so much happiness," at every opportunity he gets, and you love it every single time.
He radiates joy and warmth, and despite his kindness to everyone, he always makes you feel uniquely cherished. In his eyes, you're not just anyone; you're everything.
And it hasn't changed from high school to this point in college. As you approach adulthood, the love that accompanied your growth as an adolescent lingers.
Jeno's voice stops your thoughts with, "Bub, what do you want for dinner?" Glancing to your side, you notice him fixated on the road. After a long day at the university, you are currently headed home to your shared flat. Because you both decided to attend the same college and because it is obviously less expensive to stay in the exact same place, you both saved money for the apartment you are currently residing in. You both agreed that returning home under the same roof is the best choice for the two of you because you will both become busy over time.
When the red light came on, he looked at you and said, "Should we drive by your favorite restaurant and just order so we could go to sleep early?" after noticing that you were spacing out for the nth time.
"Huh? Oh, okay, bub. I'd love that," you replied upon hearing his voice, feeling as though you were suddenly snapped back to reality, anchored by the sound of his presence.
"You must be so tired, hmm? Is it Mr. Chua again?" he asked, his tone filled with understanding.
You chuckled at the mention of the infamous professor you often vented about. "No, he wasn't around today, actually. I was just really tired from all the lab work I did earlier," you replied, appreciating his attentiveness to your daily struggles.
He acknowledged your reply with a hum, and he skillfully threaded the steering wheel through the drive-thru. He ordered you your usual and gave you an affectionate smile. The vehicle filled with the soothing sounds of the radio and the faint hum of the air conditioning as the sun started to set. You felt warm and cozy even if the temperature inside the car was very cold because you knew that you were heading home with the love of your life.
After a few moments of comfortable silence, he reached out for your hand, and in a tender whisper, he said, "I love you," as he began parking at your apartment's parking lot. The simplicity woven into every second spent with each other, filled with love and care, is the kind of love that is true and right.
Your evening flew by, and your early bedtime goal was quickly abandoned as you spent the entire night watching movies with Jeno. However, when spending time with him replenishes you more than a peaceful slumber, what good is sleep?
Sleep is what your body needs, and you just ate your own words when you fell asleep on Jeno’s shoulder.
He noticed that and chuckled lowly. He reached for the remote and quickly turned off the television before positioning himself to properly carry you back to your shared room. He knew that waking you up would be of no use because you are a very heavy sleeper, and you hate it when your sleep gets disturbed, so he tried his best to be as gentle as possible so you would stay in your peaceful slumber.
He laid down on his side of the bed after tucking you in and planting a gentle kiss on your forehead.
A lot of your evenings went by like that. Spending a quarter of your day in college and going home with him. It has become your perfect daily routine. Although there are times where Jeno fails to drive you home because of how demanding his course is, you end up going home alone, and commuting is an extreme sport. Sometimes, it will be too hard to hail a taxi because of the rush hour and all the other students going home at the same time who are also desperate to rest. Sometimes, even if it was Jeno who said he would come home late, you end up arriving home later than he did. But what is adulthood without a bit of suffering?
‘Love won't make you rich,' that's what you heard from your mother when you said you were dating Jeno. Of course, your love hasn't always been a pleasant sight for everyone. You began dating in high school; of course, people would think you're foolish to enter into such a commitment at such a young age.
There are times when you wonder if your mother was right, especially when you and Jeno fail to pay rent on time, struggle to find part-time jobs to feed the both of you, and add your stressful college work to the mix.
But all your worries will soon disappear in the wind because it's Jeno you are facing those problems with, and eight years of sustaining yourself doesn't seem so hard because there is Jeno, who is your lifeline, your anchor, and your foundation. And even if the world turns its back on you, there is Jeno ready to face all of your worries, your fears, and your doubts because it's Jeno, the one who loves all of you.
"Good morning." You heard Jeno talk from the hallway.
You furrowed your brow in confusion. 'Why is he still here? ' you thought to yourself. It's Saturday, and you both have work, but your shift is at noon, so you didn't bother getting up early, unlike Jeno, who has a 9 a.m. shift.
Jeno has been waking up late several times since last month. If he is not absent, he will be late. It's always been like that. You haven't spoken to him about it yet. You have developed an unspoken rule in your relationship that there are situations that you can tackle on your own because you are both adults.
"Why aren't you at work?" You tried to sound as considerate as possible, but it's his life at stake and your apartment. If he doesn't come to work on time or at all, they will deduct his pay and, in the worst scenario possible, fire him.
"I don't feel well." He simply answered.
"You haven't been feeling well for a month. Wanna go to the hospital?" you suggested.
"It's not really that serious for a hospital, bub," he reasoned out.
"But it's serious enough for you to miss work for a month?" You said without looking at him, not being able to contain it anymore.
You heard him sigh before he headed to the bathroom, and you shook your head. Jeno, on the other hand, thought it would be best not to say anything.
You took your last sip of the coffee before heading to the sink, and you saw the overwhelming tower of unwashed dishes. It's 11 p.m., and your work is 20 minutes away from home if you are lucky enough to hail a cab the instant you come out of the building. Washing these plates will take a lot of your time, but if Jeno doesn't have the energy to wash them today because he is not feeling well, then that leaves you no choice. Good thing you already took a bath and wore your work clothes; you wouldn't have to rush later on.
It's times like these when you realize that you two are no longer the teenagers you once thought you'd remain forever. Those teenagers have now grown, with bigger responsibilities and greater disappointments to confront.
You finished the dishes and gathered your belongings before preparing to leave. However, as you reached for the doorknob, you noticed Jeno standing in the hallway, simply gazing at you.
"I will make it up to you," he said, and all you could do was smile at him before heading out.
All day at work, your thoughts were consumed by him—wondering if he had enough food at home and if he was resting well. This wasn't the first time you'd encountered issues between the two. Despite the absence of major fights and screaming matches, deep down, you knew that things were not okay between you.
After long, tiring hours at work, you received a text message from Jeno that said, 'I'll pick you up from work, bub. I love you.'
You smiled at the notification. He really was making it up to you, and you couldn't even be mad at him anymore.
And he's really there. As you closed the shop, not very far from where you stood, you saw him immediately. Suddenly, you are ready to face everything again because he is there.
You walked up to him with a huge smile, as if you hadn't worked for hours without a break. It was worth it when you're coming home with him.
The drive home was eerily quiet, with only the sound of your breathing audible amidst the corny jokes from the radio DJ. Despite the windows being open and the air conditioning turned off, the chill of the night air seeping in was enough to send shivers down your spine.
As the red light halted the car, you turned to gaze at him, only to find that he was already looking at you with the same love and contentment that had been evident in his eyes since your first year of high school. Now, after eight years together, you were both getting older yet still together, sharing each moment with him by your side.
You had hoped the problems were behind you, believing that your love and understanding would be enough to overcome any challenges that came your way. However, a week after your minor argument, Jeno attempted to return to work, only to find that his employer no longer wanted him back after a month of slacking. This turn of events took a significant toll on both of you, adding to the weight of your existing concerns.
"I'm sorry, bub. I'll look for another job next week, I promise."
The rent was due on Monday, and luckily you saved up enough money for three months after working extra hours since the start of the year.
"I told you to tell me if you have problems, didn't I? For a month, I didn't hear anything from you, and look where it got us? Jeno, it's our finals! We also have expenses for school, not just here at home! If you were too exhausted to work, then you could have just told me." All your pent-up frustrations spilled in an instant.
"I didn't want to burden you, love."
"Jeno, since when have you ever been a burden to me?"
He walked over to you and enveloped you in a hug, and that was when your tears began to flow. Both of you were graduating students, each with your own set of responsibilities and numerous financial challenges to navigate. In the face of it all, you couldn't help but wonder: Is love enough?
"Jeno, it's like I don't know you anymore." You began
"Bub, don't say that."
"I just want you to talk to me. Tell me your problems. I know there are things you can handle by yourself, but at least include me. You have me. I am here for a reason."
Both of you became even busier after that, balancing the demands of studying for final exams with juggling part-time jobs. Jeno faced the added challenge of finding work amidst his other commitments.
Your schedules became so hectic that you no longer went home together, and there were nights when Jeno arrived home so late that you would already be asleep, only to wake up to his departure in the morning.
Your entangled nights became two parallel lines. Quiet and comforting evenings grew even quieter without the presence of others. Every night, you realized that you and Jeno were both growing older and, simultaneously, growing apart. It's something inevitable, something you never wished for, yet something you are currently witnessing with your own eyes.
But growing apart is not contextually synonymous with loving each other less. The love is still there, and the care is still present. That is the reason why both of you are working so hard—because you love each other.
Both of you became so busy to the point where your only connection was coming home to the same house. Suddenly, home felt like nothing more than four walls and a mini fridge, lacking the warmth of four limbs and lips to kiss.
But surprisingly enough, after many weeks, he offered to pick you up from work.
"Keep your eyes on the road," you told him when you noticed him stealing glances at you.
"I love you, bub," he said, prompting you to look at him.
You smiled and replied, "I love you more."
"When is your oath-taking ceremony?" he asked, trying to make conversation amidst the silent drive home.
"I don't know yet. Maybe a few months after graduation."
And then it died down again. But does the silence matter to you when, after so many weeks, he is here beside you again?
He is here.
And that's all that matters right now.
"Should we take the long way home?"
But even a single beautiful night couldn't alter the looming storm heading your way. It's a heart-wrenching inevitability—the painful reality of growing apart.
With each "sorry, I can't pick you up" message and every missed call accompanied by a new excuse, the weight of disappointment settles deeper into your heart. Gradually, you find yourself numb to the ache, accepting it as the new normal.
"Bub, please respond," you pleaded, your voice trembling with emotion, as you left yet another voicemail after he missed your calls for the nth time. It's Saturday, and the rain outside matches the heaviness in your heart. You figured he must have finished work earlier than you, so you were counting on him to pick you up. But his cell phone remains unattended, and it's been 20 agonizing minutes of waiting in the pouring rain.
You hated the rain, and he knew that all too well. After a few more minutes of waiting in vain, you were left with no choice but to reluctantly take the train home alone since there are no cabs at this hour. The frustration and disappointment welled up inside you, reaching a breaking point.
"I'll sleep at my mom's house just for tonight. To cool off," you murmured to yourself.
At the train station, your phone buzzed incessantly, and when you finally answered, it was Jeno calling you countless times.
"I'm here; where are you?" his voice came through, accompanied by the sound of the rain.
"I took the train," you replied simply.
"You could've waited," he said, frustration evident in his tone. "I drove all the way here from work; it's almost an hour drive."
"I did wait, Jeno. What are you trying to imply?" you countered, feeling a mix of irritation and hurt.
You heard him sigh heavily on the other end of the line, and you pursed your lips in frustration.
"I'm tired, Jeno," you said wearily.
"So am I."
"Is that so? Okay, I'm sorry for making you drive in the rain. It won't happen again. And just so you know, I won't be coming home tonight."
Through days, weeks, and months of hardly seeing or talking to each other, you both somehow made it through college. Despite everything that happened, there's this overwhelming sense of pride you feel for each other. Maybe, just maybe, it was all worth it in the end.
The high school love you both shared has now transformed into something more significant. The youthful days you once had together are now just memories as you step into this new chapter of your lives.
It feels right with Jeno, but amidst the familiarity, there's a subtle shift, a tinge of bittersweet realization that things have changed.
Both of you have accomplished your dreams, reaching the destinations you once only dreamed of. You've arrived at where you wanted to be.
"Hey!" Jeno called for your attention. You turned and saw him adorned in his gown and cap, and a profound sense of pride washed over you.
You embraced him, exchanging whispers of 'I'm so proud of you' and 'You did well'. Yet it wasn't the same; it was different.
Both of you have grown, realizing that your teenage dreams have come true, and here you are, all grown up.
The love you once held so dearly in your youth has gracefully reached its final chapter. Staring into each other's eyes, there's an overwhelming sense of emotion, an unspoken acknowledgment that what once was no longer is—it's over.
"Thank you for loving me," he said. "Your love brought me here, bub."
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starsstuddedsky · 1 year
Text
Tangled in Love
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vernon x reader
summary: there's nothing in the world that vernon loves more than cats. at least, that's what you think
genre: fluff, tiny bit of angst, non-idol!au, uni au, f2L, idiots to lovers, fake dating if you squint, technically university au
warnings: none!
wc: 3.8k
a/n: started this a WHILE ago and finished it like a month ago but i wanted to let it sit lol,,, may or may not have been the other option for the poll i put out and then i may or may not have forgotten to post.... anyways i am working for literally the whole summer until school starts again so i can't promise i'll be writing a whole bunch </3 so basically: enjoy bc idk when anything else will come lol (not going on official hiatus though!! just like... limbo) pls pls feel free to drop in anytime and chat!! also requests are open but again,, i'll write when i write lol
tldr: adulting sucks, i love you all, none of this has to do with the actual story lol
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Vernon’s car sits in your driveway. The sight of his little red sedan evokes a strong sense of familiarity, almost as if it’s yours. It’s survived high school and his first three years of college, up till now, though the engine sometimes shakes the car a little too much and the air conditioning chooses to work less often than you would prefer. Still, the one time Vernon mentioned getting a new car, you nearly cried, so you don’t let yourself complain too much. 
He waits for you, keys in hand, as you tug on your shoes and sprint out the door with a shout of goodbye to your parents. Your shoes nearly slip off because you didn’t put them on all the way and they’re still untied when you make it to the front seat, slamming the door shut behind you and pulling on your seatbelt. 
“You didn’t have to rush,” Vernon says, barely sparing a glance at you. You do a supreme job pretending it doesn’t bother you. 
“Yeah, but my dad is watching hockey,” you say. Though it’s been years since Vernon has been to your house for a “play date,” you know the memory of your father yelling at the television as if the players can hear him isn’t one that Vernon (or anyone for that matter) can forget easily. 
“You know if you move out, you don’t have to hear them,” he says, finally glancing at you before turning his head to watch the road as he backs down the driveway. 
“If I move out, I also have to pay my bills on my own,” you say. 
“You have three job offers and you haven’t even graduated yet,” Vernon says. “Of all our friends, you are the most financially stable, so don’t you dare try that argument on me.” This debate has been going on ever since Vernon announced he was moving out; two years in the dorms on campus proved more than enough for him. 
You don’t understand why he’s so insistent about you moving out. Sure you complain about your parents occasionally but not enough to really matter, and he knows how grateful you are that they’ve let you stay in your childhood room and rarely let you pay for anything. 
So why? You set your eyes on him, with his annoyingly perfect features that you’ve known most of your life. He studies the road, indifferent to your glare and undistracted. 
That’s the Vernon you know: focused on the moment, and never noticing you. You know how pitiful you sound, pining for someone for so long who has never once spared you a second look. Still, before everything else, he’s your friend, your best friend. You won’t ruin that just because you caught feelings. 
“Why are we going an hour away again?” You ask, resting your back against the cushioned seats and turning your head to the window to watch the scenery pass by. It’s easier to avoid thinking about those feelings when you aren’t staring at him. 
“Because the people running the rescue needed a volunteer to pick up the kittens.” 
“And why am I here?” 
“So I don’t get kidnapped or murdered,” Vernon says nonchalantly. 
“How am I going to prevent you from getting kidnapped or murdered?” 
“Strength in numbers?” He takes his eyes off the road for half a second to flash a smile at you. 
You rolled your eyes, plugging your phone into the aux. “You should have asked Jihoon. Between his gym obsession and unbridled rage, the nonexistent potential kidnappers-murderers would never stand a chance.” 
“And he has good taste in music. Bump,” he says, bracing his arm in front of you as he hit a particularly large pothole. He drops his arm as soon as the car stops shaking and you ignore the urge to catch his hand in yours. 
“He does not, and you better not be implying I have bad taste!” You dig through your playlists, trying to find the Vernon-approved one. 
“I was implying but now I’ll outright say it.” 
“His playlist is just Bruno Mars and Harry Styles and one random Ariana Grande song.” You hold up the shared playlist for good measure. Vernon ignores you, refusing to take his eyes off the road. 
“Okay, not good taste, but better than yours.” 
“What is wrong with my taste in music?” 
“No comment.” 
“How have we been friends this long?” You ask. You can’t quite say it with a straight face; the idea of not having Vernon in your life is an absurdity you can’t imagine. 
“By the way, you need to give directions,” Vernon says. “I sent you the address last week.” 
You shake your head but dig through the messages to find the address, putting Jihoon’s playlist on to prove your point. Vernon pretends not to care, singing along to “Leave the Door Open,” as if he didn’t make fun of Jihoon a week ago because he played the song on repeat during his four hour shift at the cafe. 
When you’re being honest with yourself, you know you want more than riding in Vernon’s front seat and making pointless jokes. More than once, you’ve imagined what it’s like to go home with him and stay there, to wake up in his bed because you share it with him, instead of the times you drank too much and he slept on the couch (because of course Vernon is the type of person to give up his bed for his friend). Moments like that make it harder to remember that he doesn’t feel the same way. 
You were doing a great job of paying attention until the second half hour, when you got stuck in standstill traffic. In your mind, only a few minutes pass, but suddenly Vernon shakes your shoulder and your heart shoots bolts of adrenaline into your veins to wake you up. 
“We’re here,” he says softly. He holds your phone with the directions still open. The engine shakes the car; he must have literally just stopped. It takes a couple moments to remember that he drove you into the middle of nowhere to pick up some kittens to foster them (another bullet point in the ever growing list of why you love Vernon: he does absolutely insane things for what he loves. What would it be like to be the person he loves?). He stares at you for a moment and for some godforsaken reason, you think he’s going to kiss you. 
He points to the corner of your lips. “You drooled.” He laughs at your groan, turning in his seat and cutting the engine, tossing your phone into your lap. 
The door creaks when you pull on the handle but it swings open. You are extra careful when you swing it shut, being as gentle as possible. Vernon raises his eyebrows but doesn’t comment on it. You stretch until your back finally pops, jogging to catch up with Vernon who didn’t wait for you, striding up the smooth driveway. 
Warm pastel yellow greets you, a cute door that matches the array of flowers on the front porch perfectly. Vernon sneezes and presses the doorbell, stepping back to wait, shoulder pressing against yours. Even though his jean jacket and your cotton t-shirt separate you from really touching him, you feel a different sort of warm, a tingly feeling that spreads from your insides and makes you feel giddy. 
After a couple minutes, the door opens, revealing a smiling woman and a child that can’t be more than five clinging to her leg. “You must be the fosters! Sorry, it’s a little hectic today, but come on in!” She ushers you in, picking up the child. 
Some psychopath. You glance at Vernon but he turns his back on you, following the woman down the hall to a closed door. Whatever, it’s not like he needs to see you to know the jokes you make. 
“We’ve been keeping them away from the rest of the house since it gets so chaotic,” she says. “I’d love to keep them but we’ve got two toddlers and a hyperactive dog.” She sounds genuinely regretful, which you understand as soon as you step over the baby gate and into the room. It looks like it was a spare bedroom (you can’t help but think it’s for the children when they get too big to share a room), but the bed has been stripped and there isn’t any other furniture. In the middle of the room, in a nest of blankets, a grown cat sits and licks tiny balls of fur that mewl softly in protest. The black cat pauses in her grooming, studying you and Vernon while the woman and her child watch from the door. 
“Do you want to tell the lovely couple what we named them?” She asks the child. 
You freeze. Did she just call you a couple? “We’re not–” Vernon stops you with a hand on your arm, sitting cross legged on the ground and facing the woman and her child. 
“The momma is Pinky,” the child mumbles, barely audible. “‘Cause she has really pink feet.” 
You smile at her, though you’re still reeling from Vernon’s hand, which slips from your arm to interlace his fingers with yours. “Did you name her?” 
The child grins. “Yeah! But my brother named the babies.” She pouts. 
“I think Pinky is a great name,” you say. Vernon grunts in agreement. Pinky stands and wanders slowly toward Vernon’s hand (the one not holding yours), which he holds outstretched while looking away. Looking at you. You get to see the exact moment Pinky brushes her head against his fingers, watch the corners of his mouth creep up in satisfaction, watch his eyes slip away from yours as he strokes her head. She lets off a low rumble as she purrs, brushing her whole body against his foot before leaving him to study you. 
You’ve never thought of yourself as a cat-person or a dog-person (you love them all the same), but a life-time as Vernon’s best friend (and an abundance of cat cafes) have trained you in how to get cat’s to befriend you. You let Pinky move however she wants, hyper aware of Vernon’s hand squeezing yours once before letting go. 
He shifts to look at the kittens, earning a wary glance from Pinky. She watches him for a moment before turning back to you, brushing against your hand and eventually turning her back on you, purring like the engine of Vernon’s car the entire time. 
“What’s this one called?” Vernon asks, pointing to the orange colored kitten. 
“That’s Muffin, Momma named her,” the child explains. She stands at the baby gate alone, her mother off somewhere getting all of their supplies so that you and Vernon can leave with them. Her little fingers curl around the metal. “The black one is Fried and the white one is Egg. That’s what my brother named them.” 
Vernon nods, smiling over the tiny kittens. Pinky finally decides she doesn’t want him quite so close, leaving your side to place herself between him and the kittens. He laughs, sliding back to sit next to you. 
“There’s no way you don’t end up adopting at least one of them,” you whisper. 
“I have self-control.” 
“Wanna bet?” 
Vernon turns to look at you except he’s much too close, nose just barely brushing against yours. It takes all of your willpower not to glance at his lips, infinitely harder when you realize you can feel his breath on your lips. Would he kiss you back? You push that fantasy away immediately: it’s Vernon. He’d push you away and call you weird, or do that judgy-eyebrow-wiggle-thing that he reserves only for special occasions (most recently used when Soonyoung was talking about a hookup gone wrong). You’ve always been the one he looks at when someone does something weird; what would he do if it was you being weird? Your stomach turns, the butterflies eating each other alive. You can’t do that to him, no matter how perfect his lips are. 
You jump at the sound of someone clearing their throat. You turn back to the door to see the woman holding a cat carrier doing her best not to smile. 
“Not trying to rush you two, but the sooner they settle into a nice loving home, the better,” she says, winking at ‘loving.’ You really should correct her. Actually, Vernon should correct her. He always does, the very few times that you have been mistaken as a couple. He never hesitates, so why isn’t he doing it now? Does he really not realize what she’s implying? 
He stands up, turning to face you and extending his hands to pull you up. You roll your eyes but take them anyway, ignoring the way your heart sinks when he lets go this time. He takes the carrier and gently picks up the kittens, blankets and all, and tucks them inside. Pinky follows immediately after, as if she couldn’t bear to be away from her children for more than a second. 
“I have a box ready by the door with their food, and toys, and other supplies, and I know you said you have a litter box and you’re ready, but I just wanted to make sure that they settle in nice, and I added a blanket in case they’re homesick, and–” She pauses, peering at the dark holes of the carrier as if she can see the little kittens inside. She takes a deep breath, picking up her child again, stepping to the side so that you and Vernon can leave the room. “I know you two will take good care of them, I do, I just– I’m going to miss them.” 
“Me too,” her child says, clinging to her mother’s neck. 
The woman smiles. “But we said our goodbyes already, and they’re going to be so happy with these two, right?” 
“Of course,” you say when Vernon doesn’t answer. “He’s been obsessed with cats since he was smaller than you!” You wink at the child, who giggles. 
You pick up the box at the door, grunting at the heaviness. 
“We can switch,” Vernon says softly but you shake your head. 
“It’s just to the car, it’s fine.” Vernon looks like he’s going to argue more, but finally he steps onto the front porch, moving as gently as possible, trying to disturb the precious cargo as little as possible. 
“Thank you so much again,” the woman says, setting her child down. “We really do wish we could keep them, but it makes me happy knowing that someone capable will be taking care of them, especially an adorable couple like the two of you. Do keep me updated on their adoptions.” 
You force a smile and choke out a “thank you,” following Vernon mindlessly down the driveway after she closes the door.
Adorable couple, were her exact words and Vernon said nothing. Why? The word hangs on your tongue, threatening to spill out if you so much as open your mouth. You watch as Vernon sets the carrier in the backseat, then takes the box out of your arms and places it on the floor. You force yourself to move to the passenger side when he raises his eyebrows at you, but once you’re sitting down and the seatbelt is across your chest, you’re frozen again. 
Vernon takes your phone when you don’t move, putting in your passcode (the sum of his birthday and yours). He pulls up his own playlist, a collection of hyperpop and indie artists that you normally enjoy listening to. Today it takes all your concentration not to burst. 
You almost make it the whole drive, all the way to his block, the apartment building he’s spent the last year and a half in that’s become far too familiar to you. How much time have you wasted away on the floor of his living room, drinking, doing classwork, listening to him talk about the future, rambling to him about the midnight thoughts that threaten your heart? He knows everything about you, except what you need him to know the most. 
When the question begins to burn in your heart, you can’t hold it anymore. Vernon pulls into his parking spot and it falls from your lips before you realize it. “Why?” 
He has the audacity to feign ignorance, blinking at you before finally asking, “Why what?” 
“Why did you let her think we are a couple?” 
One of the kittens mewls in the silence, a soft cry for help, sounding pitifully like your own heart. 
Vernon stares ahead of him at the concrete wall, the fading red number 19 that designates this spot as his. Just say something, your heart begs him. Stop giving me hope where there is none. His shoulders rise in the tiniest shrug. “I guess I was just curious.” 
“Of what?” 
He swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. He glances at you, just once. “What it would be like.” He sighs. “This really isn’t the time for this conversation.” 
Your grip on the door handle is so tight your knuckles are white. So desperately, you want to believe he’s trying to say what you think he’s saying but you refuse to give yourself hope unless it’s real. “What conversation?” 
“Okay, for the record, I did think this through,” he says, “a lot. Like, for months. This isn’t coming out of nowhere, I really did try to figure out if it’s just a passing thing because the last thing I want is for things between us to be weird because you’re my best friend and I tried to imagine my life without you and that was worse than anything, so I decided I wouldn’t ruin anything except I can’t stop thinking about–”
“Vernon.” 
He pauses, turning to face you again and this time he doesn’t look away. You’ve never felt self-conscious under his gaze, not when he’s seen every awkward stage of your life and stuck with you anyways. His eyes have always been familiar to you, an oasis of comfort that you always find yourself drifting toward. But the longer he stares at you, the more you want to run away, hide from the heartbreak you see in his eyes. 
“I think I like you,” he says. “No. I do. Like, as in more than a friend. God, none of these words are working.” 
You stare at him. He’s saying everything you want him to say. He’s saying he likes you. Why can’t you move? 
Vernon runs a hand through his hair, and sighs. “Like I said, I don’t want to ruin things between us, you're still my best friend first. But I’m also sure about how I feel and I don’t want to keep it from you any longer. I can’t stay in this limbo of holding onto something that doesn’t exist, so, I’m really sorry.” 
“Sorry?” You repeat, frowning. “Why are you sorry?” 
“Because… I like you. And that ruins… this.” He gestures between you and him and that’s when you finally realize that he doesn’t know. 
“You dumbass,” you say, “I like you, too.” 
Vernon frowns, mouth hanging open a little, and you have to wonder if you looked this goofy when he was talking. Your heart swells when you realize you’re the reason for it. “You do?” 
“Yes,” you say, grabbing his hand. Your cheeks ache a little, and you realize that you’re smiling wider than you ever have before. You’ve never been this happy, not when you graduated high school, not when you and Vernon found out you got into the same college, not when you got a perfect score on that notoriously impossible chemistry final. “Vernon, I am an idiot that always thought you didn’t feel the way I did so I did everything I could to hide it. But I like you, I really, really do, and I’m sorry I never let it show.” There’s another word for how you feel, but you aren’t quite brave enough to use it yet, even if it’s what you really mean to say. 
Vernon leans closer, pressing his forehead against yours. “We really are dumb, huh?” 
“I can already hear Jihoon’s gloating.”
“He’s been nagging you too?” Vernon groans softly but the smile never leaves his lips. “He’s going to be insufferable.” 
You’ve grown used to silences with Vernon. Sometimes they are painful, like when he tells a joke and only you laugh. Usually they’re peaceful, comfortable silences that can only exist between two people that have nothing left to say but stay together anyways. But this silence is heavy, a weight on your shoulders pushing you to do something, move closer. You’ve known him your whole life but this is foreign territory. 
His breath kisses your lips again and this time you have the bravery to lean forward, just a little. His lips are soft, bottom lip chapped a little more than the top but it is warm and it feels like a first and thousandth at the same time, like unlocking the door to a house you know you’ll spend the rest of your life in. Your mind floats farther and farther away, in some place of impossible happiness that can’t quite believe that this is real. 
A soft cry from somewhere to your left brings you back to earth. You pull away at the same time he does, glancing at the backseat. Right. The kittens. You glance at Vernon, whose mouth is still a little open, eyes wide and flustered. It makes you want to kiss him all over again but you settle for laughing. 
“I guess we should go inside,” he says, leaning away from you though he doesn’t turn his back yet. 
“We should get them settled,” you say, glancing at the carrier again. 
Vernon nods, opening his door and grabbing the heavy box, pausing by the entrance to the building to wait for you to grab the carrier. Silence falls again as you ride the elevator up but you’re more than familiar with it. 
It doesn’t take long to settle Pinky and the kittens, not when Vernon already had a room set up for them. He figures there’s been enough stress for the day and they should get some peace and space to relax, so you stretch out on the couch, taking your usual corner. Vernon sits next to you, the inch of space separating you feeling like a mile. 
Vernon glances at you, chewing on his lip before asking, “You’ll stay?” 
“Always.” 
The grin that splits his face has you swooning all over again, so when he throws an arm over your shoulder, leaning into your side, your brain fully stops functioning. You have to will thoughts into existence, which is silly because it’s Vernon and he’s done this a million times. But when you tuck your head onto his shoulder and he kisses the top of this head, you know everything is different. And exactly how you want it. 
“You’re definitely going to adopt Fried,” you say. 
His laughter bounces you. “No way.” 
“It’s Fried or Muffin. You can’t handle their cuteness, I saw you baby talking at them.” 
“I'll stay strong.” 
“What if I want a kitten?” 
Vernon doesn’t hesitate. “Egg is pretty cute.” 
“Sucker.” 
“Only for you.” 
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thank you for reading <3
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mikareo · 6 months
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⌗ SEASONS OF LOVE ₊ ˖ ་. a 呪術廻戦 miniseries
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“ ࣭⸰ ★ SERIAL ROMANTIC ; gojo satoru x fem reader ⠀ ꒰ . . episode one ! ꒱ . . . word count; 1.2k ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ᯇ remember when we first met?
⊹ ⠀⠀ you might possibly be the least helpful person in the world when it comes to making a hinge profile...gojo can attest to that.
contains; gojo satoru x fem reader, university (year 2) au, fluff, gojo's a dick, swearing, best friends to lovers, love triangle
⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀pm or send ask to join/be removed from taglist,, ⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀link to miniseries masterlist
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"y'know, i'd appreciate it if you could help at least a little bit."
gojo can feel your hard glare targeting him, piercing into his skull like a red laser beam, yet still chooses to ignore you. he doesn't understand why you can't just finish unpacking later. you're kind of being a buzzkill. yes, he'd be a better friend if he continued to help you unpack your boxes and organize your cluttered dormitory; but he's got more important things to do. things that require his complete and utmost attention. things that are life or death on a college campus. things that will make or break his entire young adult experience...
...things like finishing his hinge profile!
"i promise— wait no. i pinky promise i'll put all of your shit away later, just tell me which photos to pick for this prompt, i'm stuck." he's begging and pleading for you to focus on him, which isn't unusual when dealing with a narcissist such as himself. c'mon. c'mon. gojo knows exactly how to win you over. it really isn't that hard. all he has to do is beg and whine a little, give you some puppy dog eyes, and you'll do whatever he says! there's no way he's actually going to put all of your clothes away; that'll take like...forever.
with an eye roll in response to the cheer of joy gojo lets out, you set your boxes to the side and lay beside him on the carpet. he can feel your nose tickling his neck as you lean close to see his screen, and he wonders why his heart skips a beat. eh, it's probably nothing.
"this is so dumb, satoru." you point to his screen, your finger directed at his favorite prompt so far.
don't hate me if i: have blue eyes
"okay, wait!" he flicks your forehead, laughing as you pout, and clicks on the 'add image' prompt. "it's like a thing now! girls hate guys with baby blues like mine!" being handsome is so hard nowadays.
if he asked anyone at jujutsu university who the biggest player on campus is, they'd name him off without blinking twice. while only being a freshman last year, gojo managed to become a household (or a dorm-hold?) name that'll be talked about for years after he graduates. there may be a possibility he's either flirted or made out with every girl in his graduating class, not including you, all in one school year. without the use of dating apps, he went on a total of eighty-seven first dates from august to june; albiet seeing a few girls more than a few times for some special alone time, if you get what he means; and he had the absolute time of his life and needs to recreate that thrill again.
"you don't need an app to get girls, you get plenty already."
ugh why do you always have to rain on his parade?
"obviously i don't need an app, but it's way more fun this way." he argues, "imagine if i hit a hundred first dates before may. i'd break last year's record."
"and why are you getting so butt-hurt about my dating life?" he's treading into dangerous territory. the two of you never talk about your romantic experiences, considering you never want to talk about them with him. "it's not my fault you had a total of...hm what was it? zero dates last year?"
"just find a fucking photo and get this over with."
yeah, your love life is off limits...
a chuckle rumbles from his throat as gojo continues scrolling through his camera roll, searching for a photo that screams 'boyfriend material'...or to be more specific 'one night stand material'. while he's searching for a photo that'll make girls want to sleep with him, he doesn't notice that his brightest smiles only appear in the photos with you. then again, he never notices you; and if he ever did, it's unlikely he'd date you anyways. you're his best friend. he doesn't want to ruin that. he can't ruin that, because then he'd have to imagine a life without you in it.
a particular picture stands out from the rest, and you choose to point it out. it's the two of you in your high school uniforms, standing side-by-side beneath the cherry blossoms after your third year graduation ceremony. his hair is slightly shorter and his height hadn't reached its full potential yet, but you look absolutely adorable— almost like a kitten that he's protecting from the no-good boys of the world (technically he belongs in that category, but that's besides the point).
"do you remember when we first met?" a soft hum is murmured in his ear and gojo finds the sound quite comforting.
he thinks for a moment, completely blanking as the memory escaped his mind, and takes a random guess. "middle school? english class?"
the look of disappointment on your face immediately tells him he's wrong.
"look it was a really long time ago, i know that at least." no amount of excuses will make up for his awful recollection, but he tries nonetheless. gojo satoru is a shitty friend. that's just how it is. you both know it and he tries his best to be better for you, however, he can't help the way he is. some boys are born to be boys. "i'm trying my best—"
"it's alright, just stop."
you're so upset.
"there are more important things to remember, really it's fine."
why are you so upset?
"i'm sorry," he mumbles. this feeling of guilt isn't familiar to gojo and he can't help but hate it. "i'll try to remember."
what is it that you were trying to reminisce about? he wants to know but he shouldn't pry any more, you're clearly done with the conversation and want to move on with a concentrated thinking face gracing your features. you look pretty. woah. you look really pretty. he's never thought that before. why hasn't he noticed before? suddenly, the thought of however many hinge girls want him isn't very appealing and he just wants to make you smile again. you're so pretty when you smile. his heart is beating ten times faster than usual and he's urging it to calm down, but it won't.
...maybe that's a good thing, though.
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⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀pm or send ask to join/be removed from taglist,, ⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀link to miniseries masterlist
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⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⊹₊。 reblogs are greatly appreciated! ˚₊⊹
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kippah-for-lemon · 8 months
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A COUPLE OF YEARS AGO,
a neighborhood science teacher asked if I believed that the Genesis account of creation was true. I answered, yes. Great, he said. Would I like to speak to his class about my understanding of creation? This modern-day John Scopes thought he was inviting a modern-day William Jennings Bryan to reenact the classic duel.
However, I told the class that while I believed the Genesis account of creation to be true, I also believed the scientific theory of evolution to be true. My response was greeted by puzzlement on the part of twenty-five eighth graders and disappointment on the part of their teacher. I went on to explain that science is one of humanity's great truth traditions, and religion is another. The two have threatened each other since well before the theories of Charles Darwin were formulated. But they needn't be engaged in such a heated rivalry because their goals are so different.
Science can help us understand how the world was created, but it can't tell us why it was created. And religion has no business telling us how the world was created, but we desperately need it to help us under- stand why we're here.
Genesis doesn't discuss the survival of the fittest, but, as you well know, Darwin's scientific creation story does. That story's operativeprinciple of the survival of the fittest became known as Social Darwinism, which taught that only the truly gifted deserve to survive. It is unfortunate that this teaching has become an axiom of modern life. In contrast, our Jewish tradition has always taught that we are responsible for the survival of the least fit: the orphan, the poor, the lonely, and the stranger, to name just a few. And in Genesis 1:27 we are told that every single human being is divinely gifted and deserving of dignity. The opening of Genesis tells about the creation by God of a universe of harmony, balance, and beauty, formed from soupy chaos, tohu vavohu. It is the most profound story we know, and it reminds us why we are here. It sets forth our work, and our challenge. But is the story true?
Regretfully I must admit that the story is not true, or at least not yet. When will it be true? When we accept our responsibility as God's partners in creating the world described in Genesis.
-Rabbi Rick Jacobs (b. 1955)
An excerpt from my Temple's Rosh Hashanah prayer book. Under the cut is just a testimony from me but feel free to reblog for the quote alone.
It really stuck with me because I was raised Protestant. I even attended a private Christian (nondenominational) school for three years. Sixth through 8th grade (for non-Americans, I was the ages of 11-14 give or take).
I was taught that evolution wasn't real. I wrote an 8 page essay on why Charles Darwin was wrong and that The Bible was correct. Little did I know I actually did believe in evolution, and so did most of my peers as I reasoned that over a long time of adaptations maybe there could be a different species
I was shell shocked when I switched to a public high school (14 years old) and flat out told evolution was true (or well as true as a scientific theory can get). I lost my trust for authority, and I realized how damaging my education had been.
I'm AFAB, and so I was taught my responsibility was to be quiet and to please my husband. I often asked far too many questions, especially when it came to the teachings of the Bible, to the extent my own teachers, men and women who were supposed to nurture my curiosity and be my guide into the world, shunned me.
Starting my Jewish journey, I sobbed. I sobbed after the first service I went to. It's so different from what I had been through before. I'm so glad I'm allowed to ask questions and it's even encouraged. I'm glad the Torah is scrutinized and we are encouraged to study the book and even admit when G-d has done wrong.
My partner, knowing my past, pointed this specific excerpt out to me. I had to fight back tears. I feel so loved and welcomed in Judaism.
"...Jewish tradition has always taught that we are responsible for the survival of the least fit: the orphan, the poor, the lonely, and the stranger, to name just a few. And in Genesis 1:27 we are told that every single human being is divinely gifted and deserving of dignity."
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neowinestainedress · 8 months
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between us — jn.s (preview n visuals)
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pairing: husband!johnny suh x wife!oc x fem!reader | professor!johnny x lawyer!oc summary: you find yourself tangled in the life of the Suhs after Mr. Suh starts working as an English professor at your father’s university. You don’t understand why they float around you so much, but soon enough, you can’t get enough of that secret, dirty game anymore. genre: smut, fluff, plot, mxfxf, married couple, established relationship, age gap, bisexual characters, aged up johnny (to his early 30) warnings: in the full fic | READ HERE
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THE CHARACTERS
the suhs
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the reader
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PREVIEW
“He was in the swimming team in high school,” Aaliyah explains, covering her eyes from the sun with a hand and squeezing them so she can watch Johnny. You mimic her, humming at her words. “He was so good, I think I fell in love on the bleachers watching him swim.”
You chuckle tenderly and try to imagine a younger version of them, and you can almost see them. You wonder if their personalities were the same more than ten years ago, you wonder how they looked, you wonder if they would’ve ever imagined to still be here after so many years. But in any version you come up with, you still don’t fit. Actually, it makes you look like a stain even more.
“Your love is… strong,” you whisper when Johnny finally dives in and she cheers before bringing her attention to you.
“It is,” she agrees, a sweet smile showing her straight, white teeth, “even though weird things happen sometimes.”
You giggle, frowning. “Weird things?” Your voice is shaking, and you don’t want to connect the two dots that are so vivid in your head.
“What are you talking about? Praising me?” Mr. Suh asks, grinning while running a hand in his wet hair before hugging his wife from the back and kissing her cheek.
“Not about you, nothing impressive about that jump,” she jokes. “About us.”
“Us?”
She hums. “I was telling her how I fell in love with you, and she said our love is strong.”
You want to ask about the weird things, you want to ask so much more, but you don’t. And you simply stand there, watching Mr. Suh’s hands wrap around her body, feeling jealousy in the pit of your stomach.
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And that’s the first time you cry at night about it. You don’t want to listen to him, but you can’t help but question why they would choose you. Even if it’s just a game, even if it means nothing, you can’t find a reason why. You don’t know who started this first, but it’s not like it would be any different, they’re both hot, smart, talented and successful, and your father is right, you’re not half of her, or his, worth.
Yet, you can’t let it go.
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if you want to be added to the taglist comment under this post! general taglist: @froggyforyoongi ; @wingsss45 ; @tddyhyck ; @technologyculturedneo
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© neowinestaindress; all rights reserved. do NOT repost, modify, or translate any work from this blog on any other platform and claim it as yours. you can find my works on ao3 (neowinestaindress) and wattpad (winestaintedress_; currently inactive).
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supernovafics · 4 months
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𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄
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"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist
pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader
word count: 1.2k words
warnings: explicit language
summary: in which you join steve during his family video shift and help him study for a test
author's note: nothing much to say about this one. short and sweet<33
general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Winter 1986
“Can I have some help?”
You looked up from your notebook to see a guy standing a few feet in front of you with a small frown on his face. Your head shake in response to his question was immediate. “Oh, no, I don’t work here.”
His frown seemed to only deepen. “But, you’re sitting behind the counter.”
“Yeah, that probably makes things confusing, but I don’t work here,” You responded with a small laugh. You took a brief look at Steve, who was stocking tapes in one of the aisles. “I’m just here to help a friend and make sure he doesn’t fail out of his first ever college classes. Big English test tomorrow. The first one of the semester, actually.”
The guy rolled his eyes at your unnecessarily long explanation and then walked off, and your attention turned back to your notebook and you continued writing notes, or more so rewriting notes, for Steve. 
When he finished stocking shelves, he walked over to you, leaning on the counter and looking down at what you were doing. You ripped out the pages you had been working on for the past hour and slid them over to him. “Okay, I have compiled all of the shit that you’ll need to know for the test tomorrow on these two pages, front and back. Enjoy.” 
Steve gave you a small smile. “You didn’t have to do that.” 
“I know, but it was actually pretty easy since you’re taking the class with the same Professor I had last semester; I mainly just redid the notes that I had for that first test. And it only took me like an hour.”
“Thanks, but shouldn’t you be worrying more about your test tomorrow?”
You shrugged. “I just have to give a presentation on the rise of radio for my communications class, and I’ve been preparing for the last couple days. I’ll be fine.”
Steve nodded at that and started looking at the notes you gave to him. You moved from behind the counter and went over to the comedy section and started to look through the shelves.
“Oh, also, can I get a vest and a nametag? Everyone already thinks I work here, anyway.” 
“No,” Steve responded almost immediately, which made you laugh. After a second, he walked over to you, papers still in hand. “Surprisingly, I actually remember most of this stuff.” 
You smiled at that. “Glad to know you’ve been paying attention in class.” You then showed him the movie you had just pulled off of the shelf. “Thoughts on this for tonight?”
Steve looked at the title for a second before answering. “The person that returned it yesterday said it was shit.”
“Okay, so that’s a no,” You said as you put the tape back in its spot. “Anyway, though, it's good that you remember a lot of stuff already, so when I quiz you on everything later, it’ll be fast.”
He shook his head. “You’re being way too nice to me right now.” 
“You told me that you actually wanted to care about your classes and do well in them, so of course I’m gonna help you do that.” 
You could’ve gone further into that conversation that you two had a few days before the beginning of the semester, but you didn’t feel the need to fully repeat it aloud right then. Steve had talked to you about wanting to figure out his life, finding what he wanted to do long-term that wasn’t Family Video related, and maybe going to school part-time and taking a few classes would help with that. It wasn’t about his parents, it wasn’t really even about you. It was about him and you admired that, and you also wanted to help him figure everything out. Maybe it could help you figure out all of your shit too. 
“Also, if you dropped out after this semester it would actually be devastating to know that our first time ever going to the same school only lasted four and a half months.”
Steve laughed a bit. “I’m not gonna drop out.”
“And I’m completely holding you to that.” 
You went back to searching for a movie for later, and after what felt like forever you settled on something that sounded good enough. 
Things became pretty quiet for the rest of the night, so you were able to quiz Steve on the notes a couple times, and then you focused on the reading you had to do for the Film and TV history class that he suggested you two take together. Your collective eleven o’clock on Tuesdays and Thursdays mainly consisted of you two playing tic-tac-toe with one another in the margins of Steve’s notebook or writing stupid notes back and forth, and still paying some attention to the lectures that were actually pretty interesting. Aside from Steve being in the class, you really enjoyed it for the most part. 
“This article was actually pretty good,” You said. The clock finally hit eleven and Steve went over to the front door to turn the Open sign to Closed. “I think you’ll like it.” 
“What’s it about again?”
“Silent films,” You answered as you started putting all of your stuff in your bag. You then picked up the movie you grabbed earlier and went over to one of the computers, looking up the name of it and changing it from in stock to checked out. “Since I know how to do this, I think I definitely deserve a vest and nametag.” 
“I would say that’s true, but you only do that for yourself, not for any customers,” He responded with a laugh.
“In a way, I am a customer.”
“Paying customers.” 
“I use the “best friend of an employee” discount, which is a hundred percent off,” You said, smiling at him, and then smiling even more when he rolled his eyes at you. 
“What movie did you end up choosing, anyway?”
You held up the tape in your hand, Weird Science. “Now I’m thinking that I should’ve chosen a silent film to honor our history class.” 
“I’m really glad you didn’t,” Steve responded before stepping out from behind the counter. You slung your bag over your shoulder and followed him to the front. 
“Once you read the article, you’ll wish that I picked one of Buster Keaton’s greatest hits,” You said as you flicked off the lights before you two walked out the door. 
Steve locked it and then looked at you. “I truly doubt that.” 
You only overdramatically sighed and shook your head at him in response as you got in his car, tossing your bag into the backseat. You fiddled with the radio for pretty much the entirety of the fifteen minute drive to the apartment, and you held back your laughter at Steve’s playful groans in frustration at your antics. 
When you two stepped into the small space that was your shared home, you changed into your pajamas for the night before settling on the couch, and you quizzed Steve one more time for his test. And then he made you run through your presentation for your class tomorrow because he felt bad about you only helping him study. 
The time was nearing midnight when Steve warmed up some of the leftover pizza from the night before as you started the movie. You two fell asleep barely thirty minutes in, your head on his shoulder and a blanket draped over both of your legs that were stretched out on the coffee table.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
let me know ur thoughts<333
(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)
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floralcyanide · 2 months
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ʜɪꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ᴘʀᴏꜰᴇꜱꜱᴏʀ!ᴊᴏʜɴ “ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ” ᴇɢᴀɴ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ
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Today is your first day pursuing your Master of Arts in History, and the first day you meet your advisor, Dr. Egan, Professor of History.
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pairing: professor!john "bucky" egan / fem!reader
warnings: none
author’s note: peep the somewhat grey hair edit of bucky I made lol, this is such s elf indulgent au because I am a history major looking to go into my master's and also I want to be a history professor so yeah ((: I will either write this as an actual fic but idk yet!! enjoy (:
masterlist | divider credit: @cafekitsune
this fic has been cross posted to ao3.
ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.
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✦ It’s your first day on your path toward your Master of Arts in History. You’re meeting with your advisor today, who will help you on that very path and hopefully guide you to its end with success.
✦ Apparently, your advisor is prevalent around campus despite you never having a class of his. Your university is quite large, so even though your focus is American History, and so is his, it’s not unheard of to never have met him.
✦ He wasn’t too into social events held by the history department, which is understandable. You loved attending them in your later years of being an underclassmen. But they can be overwhelming at times. 
✦ You wrap your knuckles against the wooden door before you, and before you can finish knocking, a tall, salt-and-pepper man swings the door open with a dazzling smile.
✦ “Welcome, I’m Dr. Egan. I’ll be your advisor for the rest of your time here on campus.” He offers a hand for you to shake, which you happily take. His grip is firm, but so is yours. You were taught to look someone right in the eye while shaking their hand firmly- but not too firmly. Dr. Egan picks up on this.
✦ You’re one of three female history majors in the entire department going toward a Master’s and one of about twenty altogether in the major. So, of course, you’re going to need a firm handshake and steady eye contact to get ahead in your field.
✦ “Quite a handshake you have there,” Dr. Egan says, taking a seat behind his desk. He waves a hand for you to sit in one of the chairs in front of it. “Thank you,” you say, “My grandfather taught me always to have a perfect grip.” “Your grandfather was right,” Dr. Egan nods, “because in this major, being an equal with the males will take you far.”
✦ Your grandfather and father were history buffs and even lived through major historical moments, like the World Wars. So your goal in life is to teach others about what they loved so dearly and went through so harshly.
✦ Your mother had you just a few years before your father was shipped off to England, so you spent the beginning of your school years without him. Your grandfather filled in the gaps you missed from your father, thankfully. Sadly, your grandfather passed just last year, but you aim to carry his legacy and intelligence.
✦ “I’m aware, unfortunately,” you grimace at the thought of the male-dominating discipline, “But I’ve made it this far, and I’m not backing down.” “Great, I’m glad to hear that. Especially since you’re the first student I’ve ever advised for a Masters.” “Really?” you ask, a little surprised, “Then we’ll do this together.”
✦ Dr. Egan winks at that and dives into what research will be required for your first paper. The topic is based on the thesis statement of your final project, a little warm-up, as Dr. Egan called it- to the real deal at the end of your two years of studying. You go on to tell him that you want your thesis to be about the pilots of World War II, but you don’t elaborate on why. 
✦ Dr. Egan tilts his head at you when you don’t explain why you chose that exact topic but let it go. He’s had to learn that everyone has skeletons in their closet, as well as personal things, and not just him.
✦ You can’t help but take in his appearance. His outfit consists of a brown tweed blazer and a white button-up with black slacks. His hair is curly and graying on the sides, and he has a faint stubble with a notable mustache on his upper lip. Dr. Egan held himself carefully but confidently, like he’d been hurt by something but still had an ego of sorts. It reminds you of your father and grandfather. You weren’t sure why.  But you’re going to figure it out.
✦ Dr. Egan is in his 40s now and picked up college again after leaving the military due to PTSD. He eventually got his Ph.D. in History and is now a professor, and has been for a few years now. He enjoys his job. Dr. Egan (or Bucky, as we know him) loves that he can focus on American History without living through it, so he teaches it. Bucky tries to avoid WWII as a topic because he doesn’t want students and staff to know he served. He thinks it will hinder their outlook on him. 
✦ Bucky has only known you through letters and now an hour of talking, but he already expects a lot from you. He knows you are skilled and passionate about history. When you look at him, though, he feels you can see right through him. Bucky doesn’t know how to gauge that quite yet.
✦ You bid farewell to Dr. Egan after about two hours of getting to know each other's basic info as well as what’s expected of your MA in History. You leave, letting out a deep breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding as you walked out of the office. You’re still nervous, but not about your Master’s anymore- it’s about how you’re going to manage the next two years with a man like Dr. Egan.
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spaceshipellie · 8 months
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hi erin cutie angel baby ♡૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა
can I req for Abby + fluff and angst, like hurt/comfort + modern au, maybe like a high school or uni setting with the lyric
“and home’s not home unless you’re there”
fuck I love ethel cain, she is a creative and lyrical genius
“and home’s not home unless you’re there”
pairing: abby x reader
summary/warnings: modern university au, fluff, hurt/comfort, toxic friends
hi sugar darling, thank you for the req ♡ she is a genius!!
being at university was a breath of fresh air. it was the first time in your life you’d ever felt happy enough to truly be yourself. you felt harsh admitting it but your friends back home never seemed to really understand you and what you wanted out of life. you’d known them for years and over that time it seemed that they had all stayed close but now only spoke to you when they wanted to mooch off of your generous nature. and you being the people pleaser that you were, gave in to them more often than you wanted to admit. the life you had made for yourself at university felt more like home than your actual hometown ever had, and more specifically, she did.
you had been head over heels in love with abby ever since she’d flashed you her winning smile from across the room at a house party about eight months ago. she had waltz into your life with so much unexpected charm and warmth, it really showed you that there was more to life than making yourself amendable for others.
on this particular day, however, you’d been receiving messages all day from these friends and it had knocked you into a pretty bad mood. it was your one of their birthdays and you had suggested a spa weekend which everyone thought was a great idea but now, no one was helping to organise anything. they expected you to be in charge of booking it, driving everyone there, picking up the cake, and even though you had asked twice, half of them hadn’t transferred you the money for their share yet and it was this weekend. you were exhausted by it all and wished you’d never even bothered to suggest anything. the worst part was, the situation seemed to be causing some friction between you and abby. nothing major but you were so consumed with trying to do everything perfectly and had spent so much time anxiously planning out this birthday thing that you had barely spoken to her and when you had, you’d been quite short and inattentive.
later that day, you were sat at your desk, face in your phone, furiously flicking between the group chat and google. abby was leaning against the headboard of your bed reading. well, half reading, half looking over at your frowning face.
“do you wanna watch a movie?” she asked.
“mm maybe,” you responded, half-heartedly.
“or go for a walk and get a coffee? it’s really sunny out.”
“yeah.” again, your tone was as unenthusiastic as could be, eyes still glued to the bright screen like you were being brainwashed.
abby slammed her book shut and sighed, shifting down so her head hit the pillow.
“what’s wrong?” you asked.
“oh you’re listening to me now?”
you looked up at her. “what?”
“you’ve been ignoring me for…well, days. honestly how much more planning does this weekend need?”
“it’s not my fault they’re making me do everything,” you said defensively.
“you don’t have to, you know. tell them to do some of it, and have they even paid you?”
“no… but i can’t i’m already doing it now, it’s fine.”
“it’s not though. they’re walking all over you.”
“abby, i’m already super stressed about it i don’t need you making it worse.”
she propelled herself up at your frantic tone and stood behind you, placing her hands on your tense shoulders to start lightly massaging them.
“i’m sorry for stressing you, i understand it’s difficult but they shouldn’t treat you like that. it’s wrong, friends aren’t supposed to treat you like that.”
when she noticed you not relaxing into her touch like you normally would she bent down to press a kiss to your temple.
“maybe put the phone down for a bit, yeah? you can always reply later after you’ve had some time away from it.”
you slowly nodded, knowing she was right and placed your phone on the desk. you stood up and faced her, her hands now rubbing your arms comfortingly. you took one look at her sympathetic eyes and started to tear up.
“sweetheart,” abby cooed, hugging you tightly whilst you sobbed into her chest.
“i hate it, abs.”
she started rubbing your back with her warm hand. it pained her to see you like this. she loved you so much and wanted to make sure you were always happy. even though she knew that was impossible, she’d be damned if that would stop her from trying.
“come here,” she said softly as she removed one arm from you to fluff up the pillows, gesturing for you to lie down. you both climbed onto the bed and she immediately bundled you up in her arms again.
“you’ve done more than enough. i truly admire how sweet and caring you are about people,” she kissed your head, “but people should reciprocate the same kindness for you and if they don’t, you shouldn’t feel so obligated to go to those lengths for them.”
“i know, i just don’t want to let them down.”
“you won’t. despite everything, i hope you have a nice weekend, but if you need to call me at any point, do so. please? if you need picking up even, i’m there, okay?”
you nodded against her chest and held her tighter. “okay.”
“thank you. i love you, angel.”
“love you too, abs. thank you.”
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lilapplesheadcannons · 5 months
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r/relationship advice: u/bunnydad920
TLDR: My brother's boyfriend is cheating with their best friend and I don't know if I should tell my brother or not (because I don't know who is the boyfriend and who is the best friend)
My brother, X(32M), is the kindest, warmest, and brightest person I know, and he deserves the very best. Growing up, X had 2 friends. M(32M) was the son of a family friend who grew up with my brother. Then, in high school, they had Y (32M) join them. They have been inseparable so far. They work in similar fields. Brother gets boxing lessons from X, and he also teaches Y to play piano. So they spend considerable time outside of work with each other. I myself have never noticed anything out of the ordinary, but I will be the first one to admit that I am not the most observing man on the planet.
The first thing that I remember was odd was last year. I just got recently married, and I was showing our old family photo albums to my husband. In the background of one old photo from my brother's university days, there was a young man standing with his face hidden in the shadows and only his bare upper body visible. Brother was very quick to recognise him as M. When we were in bed, my husband joked that brother must be really close to M to recognise him just by his abs!
Then, recently, we were having a discussion about chicken pox and how we all seem to have it. Brother mentioned in the passing that Y was the only person he knew who never had chicken pox. My husband jokingly said he thought he remembered Y having chicken pox and passing it to a cousin of his. At least, that's what the cousin complained of. (Y has complicated family relationships). Well, brother was adamant that Y never had chicken pox. He said he had seen Y's body, and he definitely has no scar of chicken pox. My husband quickly caught my eyes before changing the subject.
My husband and I believe brother is dating one of his best friends. I think it's M, but my husband bets his last 5 cents that he is dating Y. But that is not the issue. Brother can come out when he is comfortable. Our family is pretty progressive, so there is nothing to worry from that side.
Here's the problem, though. I took my husband to a nightclub last night, and we saw M and Y in the parking lot, in a parked car, kissing very passionately. They did not see us. I think we should talk to my brother and let him know that, well, either M or Y is cheating on him, with his best friend none the less. But my husband is arguing that we don't even know for sure if brother is actually dating one of them. I am so confused. This is not a discussion I want to have with him, not 2 days before the new year! Please advise.
Edit: We have come to an agreement that brother deserves to know. We will talk to him tomorrow.
Edit 2: Okay, so brother already knows about them. And that's how I came to know about poly relationships. I can't even pretend to understand how that works, but it is working for them? So, I guess that's that. Thanks for all your kind words and support.
Edit 3: To the person who has been incessantly dm-ing me about starting a poly relationship with me and my husband, the answer is no! Never in a thousand years! If you even raise your eyes to look at my husband, I am coming for your life!
I am de-activating this account to avoid further harassment.
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nevertheless-moving · 3 months
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gnashing my teeth over vetinari and vimes in this au because you know what happens when you take 'not close but the closest another human can come to understanding me' and then give a thirty year headstart to the slower guy?
Harold, its just actually understanding . It's just understanding and being understood by another human, if only for brief, precious moments.
Sure vetinari understands vimes, that's not exceptional. (Except it is, it is, already so few knew him anymore, and now in the past again, having lost everything, everything - but this fresh faced dictator to be. This man who looks into people's souls and then gives vimes a double look).
But who really gets vetinari? Who else looks at children playing with garbage and sees the arteries of a world that could, must be? Who looks at pisstained ruins and sees the schools that will be built overlayed with every grueling step it will take to get there? Who's only weapon and only constraint is his own flesh and time, too much time, never enough time? Who has a Duty to The city beyond religious, ordained by the creator of their universe, something above gods and yet far, far beneath them.
Vimes doesnt need someone to direct his life. He's never needed that. Except holy shit he does, he definitely does, he needs a whole fucking support team but hes making less than minimum wage now. Give him something, anything to believe in.
Vetinari doesn't need to be believed in . He's never needed that. But he is still a man, and whoooo booooooy it is a heady thing to be trusted so recklessly, especially by someone like him, who mistrusts everything.
take that late canon Synergy, break it apart and then put it back together with a little bit more breathing room, a wee less intense power dynamics...!
Anyway they're friends. Best friends. By default possibly, since they don't have any other ones, but still. Two friends with souls too weathered for the lives their bodies have lived, bodies which are, at least at one point, and I'm not joking, teenage guys.
...
I just think they're neat.
...
Is it homerotic? Well first we have to remember that Samuel Vimes is doing Bad. We remember that? Ok. Now, let me ask you - is vimes the type of depressed that masturbates to feel something, or the type of depressed that cannot fathom human contact without pain. Exactly. It's like the cat that's both in the box and not or whatever. Sometimes one of them will be laying on the ground staring at the sky through the ceiling and the other will come and lay down next to him and their fingers will lightly brush against eachother and it will be the singular most intimate moment of not just their lives but also the life of the assassin that was watching in confusion from the window.
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