#you had a lot to get off your chest pffffft | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs | Tumgik (2025)

Some responses

Oh jeez...... Guys, I did not expect my post to resonate with so many people. I was aware that the problem of people feeling excluded and mocked just for less common headcanons had to be big, but I still thought this post would stay between me and all five of my followers, hahah; I am glad that some people feel really heard here! Some are for very different reasons, too?

I ESPECIALLY want to point out this one, because it is exactly the result I've been seeing a lot:

@tsunbath I've heard similar things from (former?) Malenia fans, and also I know at least two friends for whom Maria was ruined as a character because of how toxic her fans were. You are VERY right about the fact that Malenia would've hated to be the symbol of gatekeeping and bullying in the fandoms! I feel like the same would go for Maria; there is no direct confirmation, but I doubt many people can argue that she IS compassionate soul. Like... how do those toxic fans keep making the deep, compassionate, tragic female character into THE symbol of mockery, exclusion and aggression? Beats me.

It just deeply resonates with me how actions of the bad type of fans can create aversion to a character or a ship. I've had this phase with Mariadeline ship tbh. My advice would be - avoid searching content for the character/ship, try to find a tiny pool of people that likes them but are normal and respectful about it, allow yourself to feel identified with "normal fans of the thing" pool rather than dread of identifying with toxic gatekeepers by association... Like, the ship got recovered for me this way, same as Maria's character herself. Just remember that toxic fans and normal fans are not the same entity... It is a very rare case where division is HELPFUL! Hopefully you will be able to recover Malenia for yourself and not think of those l00sers anymore.

@mycopok I know Mal, easily the best person to have ever crossed BB fandom, and nothing will ever replace her </3 I am just happy that her positive influence still lingers even after becoming way less active, like... yeah, fans just should be allowed to explore any idea they want. Maria x Laurence is SUPER interesting concept! In fact, the initial post WAS made because of someone venting that they were afraid to post their Maria x Laurence stuff out of fear of being ostracised!

@underworldsheiress Yeahhhh again, you are not the first one I hear a story like this from. I also heard takes like 'tomboys are the grossest aesthetic, either come out as a trans or get back in line' (not exagerration). It is REALLY unfair how a woman looking masculine should be either her being a butch lesbian, or... well, no longer being a woman in the end. Infighting and forcing pointless norms on each other is a huge problem with LGBT+ community, you'd expect people to gather to support each other but... people will be people I guess :/ Anyways gigachad move of you to wear what you want.

@alma-amentet I don't quite agree with your tastes on body types maybe not gonna lie; However what you pointed out (not so much in the tags, I saw what else you said heh) is a very good example of how fandoms are open spaces and everyone should feel welcomed here. Like, the girls in the fandoms will have absolutely ridiculously specific tastes regarding male characters - not liking shorter height, not liking slim build, prettifying their canonically not-so-attractive face, judging them in sexy look contests, throwing insults towards their appearance quirks at times...

But once someone tries to pull similar things with female characters - all HELL breaks loose. Double standards in the fandoms regarding genders of the characters are absurd. I even once saw someone in BB fandom whining about how someone attempted to discuss which female character was hotter with them...... after we, as a fandom, CONSTANTLY have shit like 'sexyman contest who is sexier Mico or Brador vote now from your phones!!!!'. .... Like idk if you need to hear this as well or not, but everyone should be allowed to say 'muscular women aren't my taste' for the exact same reason why everyone is allowed to say 'muscular men aren't my taste'.

@fantomette22 @rhythmloid Devotees of the Biphobic Order are the bane of every western fandom's existence at this point for real though :/ They will see a female character that wears pants and kicks ass and start shaking over her like Gollum with The One Ring, ignoring all the context, nuance, her personal story, other possibilities, etc... Like I said - feelings of real people who just try to enjoy the fandom are more important than some toxic bunch's creepy obsession with the character they want to crown as their token masculine lesbian based on stereotypes, no less. I say if they really care about masculine lesbians, they should direct their activity towards real world and real people. Because, again - fandomry is not activism.

Anyways thanks everyone for speaking, and sorry if the tagging annoyed you or something fdsjhfh I really appreciate that, and I do hope you all will be able to find your own group in the fandom that'll keep you mentally safe from the toxic fans ruining characters for you. Like a power barrier in the middle of the chaos! I know I did find mine, lol

17 notes · View notes

Ok so I just saw a TikTok about a woman who found out she was pregnant with their first child a few weeks after her husband left for deployment and she’s like 8 months pregnant now and he’s coming home from deployment finally. I was wondering about Jake in that situation. Like how would he react? I know he’s be devastated to miss most of the pregnancy and not being able to give you a hug when you guys found out. He would have been so attentive and doting during the pregnancy normally, but now he would be SUPER doting to try to make up for lost time. What do you think?

(Feel free to ignore this💕)

Pffffft as if I'd ignore this gold mine.

But like, imagine though.

You waited anxiously in the parking lot, leaning up against your car in a futile effort to ease some of the comfort. It wasn't easy being eight months pregnant. And it wasn't easy having to go through it alone while your husband had been shipped off to god only knows where just before you had found out. And it certainly wasn't easy keeping it a secret from him for that entire time.

You still weren't sure you had done the right thing by not telling him. On one hand, you hadn't wanted him to worry while he was an ocean away, and you definitely didn't want him to worry about you when he was operating a multi-ton machine thousands of feet up in the air. No, the very thought made you sick with worry of your own.

On the other hand...

You opened up the passenger side door, carefully dipping down to grab your water bottle that you had flung in the seat and some Tums for your heartburn. You had just found the bottle of Tums when a pair of strong legs stopped in your peripheral.

"Well, hi there gorgeous."

You jumped, turning to face the man beside you.

"Jake!" you cried, smiling reflexively at the sight of your husband. He beamed down at you as you straightened, tummy still hidden by the car door. Jake leaned in to plant a long, slow kiss to your lips. One turned into two. Two turned into three. Finally, you pulled away from him with a hum, and a pout settled on his lips. "Missed you, baby."

Your heart stuttered. "I missed you too," you replied, cursing at the nerves that made their way into your tone. Jake's brow furrowed.

"You okay, darlin'?" he asked. You shifted your weight as you tried to figure out the best way to tell him. Before you could, Jake rounded the door, stopping when he finally took in your full form. His eyes widened, and his jaw nearly fell to the ground. "What?" he trailed off.

"I wanted to tell you," you rushed out, feeling tears prickle at your eyes. Damn hormones. "I just didn't know how, and it didn't seem like the kind of thing you say over the phone, and I didn't want to worry you, and it's not like you could just up and leave, and-"

Jake didn't seem to be paying attention to your rambling as he stared down your stomach, his gaze full of quiet awe. Slowly, he reached a hand out to place it on your stomach.

"We're having a baby?" he asked quietly. You felt the tears roll down your cheeks before you could stop them.

"Yes," you sobbed. "Oh, Jake. I'm so sorry."

That caught his attention. His eyes snapped up to meet yours. A confused frown tugging at his lips. "What on earth do you have to be sorry for, sweetheart?"

"I should have told you before now," you cried. Jake shook his head, reaching up to cradle your head to his chest as much as your stomach would allow.

"None of that, mama," he cooed, rocking you gently from side to side. "It's me who should be sorry for leaving you here to do this all by yourself."

"It's not like you had a choice," you muttered, nuzzling into his chest. Jake ran a soothing hand over your hair.

"Doesn't matter now," he hummed, pulling away just far enough to see you. "I'm here, and I plan on making up for lost time. Now, let's get home so I can pamper and spoil my beautiful wife that's carrying my baby."

Jake helped you into the passenger seat, making sure you were buckled in securely before jogging over to the other side.

"Is it a boy or a girl?" he asked excitedly as he drove the speed limit home, something completely out of character for your husband.

"A boy," you smiled, rubbing your stomach affectionately.

Jake grinned. "A boy," he breathed with a shake of his head. You were sure his cheeks were sore from how hard he was smiling. "Have you decided on a name?"

You shook your head. "Wanted to wait until you came home so we could decide together."

"What about Jake Junior?"

"Absolutely not," you snort. Jake's smile never faltered as he let out a chuckle.

"That's okay, mama. I've still got a whole month to get you to come around."

481 notes · View notes

I am enabling you

BAND AU BAND AU. SO GLAD I GET TO WRITE ABT THIS YEEEEEEE i kinda lost motivation towards the end but dfvsdgfhsd its fiiiiine. i got a couple more ideas for this au so...expect a couple more fics?? maybe??

Jason wasn’t sure if he could call the room a ‘practice room’. It felt more like a lounge. The walls were checkered with soundproof foam in places, as was the floor. There were also a lot of things hanging up on the walls. Posters of various rock bands and cult classic movies, all framed of course. The room was littered with instruments. Guitars, basses, a keyboard, a drumset, microphones- any instrument one could need, it was there. But there was also a lot of comfy furniture. Bean bags, a couple armchairs that had been dragged out of the trash, and of course, the old reliable sofa. It was stained and the springs were starting to break, but it was comfy, and Jason was quite happy lounging across it. He kicked his foot calmly in time to the beat of the music quietly playing from his boyfriend’s record player. He sighed and glanced over at the boyfriend in question. His name was Zalgo, and he had copper-brown skin and fluffy brown hair that was dyed red at the tips. Tattoos swirled up his arms and another stretched across his neck. He was covered in piercings too. His ears, his nose, a couple on his eyebrows, even a snakebite on his lower lip. His eyes were closed, and he was lounging in a big bean bag, a weed joint clenched between his teeth.

‘’They’re late again.’’ he murmured.

‘’Nnh?’’ the joint flicked upward as Zalgo grunted.

‘’The girls. We were supposed to have a practice session,’’ he looked down at the watch on his wrist. ‘’Twenty minutes ago.’’

‘’Mmmh…’’ Zalgo shifted in the bean bag, then abruptly jumped up in a startlingly quick movement. He stretched and groaned, then pulled the joint out of his mouth, smacking his dry lips. He looked over at Jason. He was wearing contacts again. These ones were golden and bright, and accentuated how...alluring, his gaze could be. His mouth curled up into a small grin. ‘’Just means more time for you and me.’’ he murmured as he walked slowly over to the couch where Jason sat. The redhead smirked at him as he leaned down toward him.

‘’...You’re getting old.’’ Jason murmured before shoving Zalgo’s face away. The other man groaned and swatted at him before breaking into laughs.

‘’I am not! I am just as cool and as sexy as senior year! Girls love me!’’

‘’You’re gay, Zalgo. And almost thirty.’’

‘’Hmph.’’ Zalgo puts his hands on his hips, pouting. Jason looked him over for a long moment. Zalgo had certainly kept his style from highschool. He wore a loose cut black tank top with a metal band’s logo on it. The neck was low, exposing his collar and the necklaces he wore around his neck. He was also wearing black ripped jeans with a studded belt with chains hanging off it. Almost every finger on his hand was decorated with a ring shiny ring. He was attractive, and carried himself with a confident flare only he could pull off. Jason could never pull that off. Showing so much skin, playing with makeup- it wasn’t his thing. He stuck with classic jeans, button-ups and ties with sneakers. Simple, yes, but it worked for him. And somehow Zalgo thought he was handsome enough to have dated him for over ten years. Jason smiled a bit and settled back in his seat.

‘’Do you...want to sit down?’’ he asked slowly. Zalgo looked down at him and grinned. He moved to lay down beside Jason, but the redhead put his hand on his chest and stopped him. ‘’...give me the joint first.’’

Zalgo huffed and rolled his eyes. He handed his boyfriend the joint and lay down, snuggling up against Jason as he took a drag of the joint. He sighed out, smoke blowing from his mouth. Zalgo looked up at him, watching him calmly. He reached up and caressed the other male’s jawline. ‘’...anyone ever tell you you’re fucking beautiful?’’

‘’No, my mother didn’t love me.’’

‘’PFFFFFT-’’ Zalgo wheezed loudly, bursting into loud cackles of amusement. Jason smiled and laughed gently. They were so distracted with just laughing on the couch like a couple of stupid dumb teens that they didn’t hear the front door being opened. They did however, hear it being slammed shut without warning, and it scared Zalgo so bad he fell off the couch with a yelp. The two stared at each other as they heard voices in the front hall downstairs. Zalgo grinned and rolled over onto his stomach, listening intently to the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs toward them. Zalgo skittered across the room and pressed himself against the wall beside the door.

Jason took a drag of the joint and watched the door, which was quickly and violently kicked open.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS UP KYLE?!"

He blew smoke out of his mouth. "Hello Natalie." He greeted calmly. Natalie was a short girl, with long caramel hair and tanned skin. Her eyes were bright and green, and she grinned wide at him. She was dressed in a denim jacket that hung off her shoulders, along with a white Guns N' Roses t-shirt and ripped navy jeans. As she waved her hands excitedly Jason could see the watch around her wrist glint in the light. A birthday gift he'd given her a few years ago.

"There you are!" Zalgo lunged out from behind the door and yanked his niece into a tight bear hug. She squealed and battered her fists against him, making the both of them giggle. Jason glanced over at the door and noticed a girl he'd never seen before, standing there looking around anxiously.

She had curly ginger hair and wore a simple green jacket with denim jeans. She was shorter than Natalie, who was short enough for a seventeen year old already. When she caught Jason's gaze she smiled nervously and waved a bit. Her smile quickly dropped however when she noticed the joint in Jason's hand. He glanced at it, then reached over and snuffed it out in the ashtray on the end table beside him. Zalgo would probably be mad about him wasting good weed later, but he didn't really care.

"This a friend of yours, Natalie?" The redhead asked as he sat up on the couch.

"This is Alice." Said a tall girl as she walked into the room and leaned against the doorway. Her name was Jane, and she was Natalie's girlfriend. She had dark skin, decorated with paler splotches in random places. She wore a long black dress with a leather jacket, fishnet gloves and tights, and platform boots that made a satisfying 'clunk' noise when she walked. Her hair was done up in braids, which were tied up in a pseudo ponytail. And she was also munching on a teacake that she'd definitely stolen from the kitchen. Jason glared at her.

"I told you to ask before taking those, y'know." He muttered. Jane shrugged and watched Natalie stumble out of the tight hug she'd been suffocating in. She turned to Alice with a grin and lunged over, slinging an arm over the smaller girl.

"This is Alice!" She said again. "She's part of the drama club in school. Really good singing voice!" She turned to the ginger girl. "Right? You're an amazing singer!"

"U-Um-" Alice rubbed at her arm anxiously. "I'm not...that good…" she mumbled, her head lowering. Jason softened as he looked at the poor, nervous girl.

"Nice to meet ya, Alice." Zalgo said gently. He walked over and crouched down, holding out his hand for her to shake. Alice stared at his arm.

"Your tattoos are so cool-" she blurted. She immediately slapped her hands over her mouth, wincing. Zalgo chuckled.

"Why thank you! I'm pretty proud of em myself." He said with a warm smile. "So you're Nat's friend?"

"I...guess," Alice rubbed at her arm again. "She uh- she said she wanted me to...join a band…? I-I dunno if I'm really cut out for that…"

Natalie shook her head and clamped her hand down on her shoulder. "Alice, I already told ya, your singing is incredible bro!" She leaned down and grinned at her. "Uncle Zalgo knows eeeverrryyythinggg about music. You just gotta impress him and you're in the band."

Alice looked at Zalgo. "You're...uncle Zalgo…?" She asked quietly, sounding even more scared. Zalgo nodded and stood up.

"Sure am." He gestured over at Jason. "That's Jason, by the way. He has a huge crush on me and sleeps in my bed. It's super embarrassing."

"Hey, you came out to me." Jason growled. Zalgo laughed.

"It's...nice to meet you, sirs." Alice murmured. Jason looked at her and smiled gently. He sat up on the couch so the others could sit down. Zalgo obliged, flopping himself down next to him with a soft grunt. Natalie was quick to join them, sitting on Zalgo's other side while Jane occupied the arm of the chair. That left Alice...standing in front of them. Like she was being judged. It reminded her eerily of an audition.

"How old are ya?" Zalgo asked with the tilt of his head. Alice fidgeted.

"Erm- fifteen." Zalgo looked at Natalie and arched a brow. Alice coughed. "B-But um- I've been singing since I was seven." She added. Zalgo gave a nod.

"Alright...think you can demonstrate?" He asked. Alice glanced away anxiously and he smiled a bit. "C'mon, you can't be any worse than Jason."

"Rude."

"I like Jason's voice." Jane piped up. Jason smiled.

"Thank you, Jane, you're the only person here who shows me any kindness…"

"Hey! I bring home pizza for you!" Zalgo said, pouting.

"You work at Pizza Hut, Zalgo. You get that stuff for free." Jason replied sternly. Alice laughed a little bit at the two of them. Jason turned back to her and smiled.

‘’So what style of music do you do?’’ he asked. Alice’s eyes widened.

‘’Oh- mostly showtunes, broadway stuff.’’ she replied. Jason nodded. She felt a bit more relaxed now. It just….felt like an audition. She’d done those dozens of times before. ‘’I can sing Defying Gravity- from uh- Wicked?’’ she suggested.

‘’Go ahead, girl.’’ Zalgo replied, leaning back on the couch again. Alice nodded and cleared her throat.

‘’Something has changed within me...something is not the same, I’m through with playing by the rules of someone else’s game,’’ she hadn’t had a chance to warm up, and she winced at how her voice sounded. But when she looked at the others they didn’t seem to notice. ‘’Too late for second guessing, too late to go back to sleep…’’ she took a deep breath, preparing herself for the high notes coming up. ‘’It’s time to trust my instincts...close my eyes...and leap.’’

‘’Stop.’’ Zalgo interrupted her. She stopped and looked at him, afraid. Had she failed the high note? Did her rusty voice really sound that bad…? ‘’You’re amazing girl!’’

‘’Wh-wha-’’

‘’Seriously! You sound like you could be on broadway!’’ Zalgo grinned wide at her as he spoke. Jason nodded in agreement. Nat hopped up off the couch and slung her arm around Alice’s shoulder again.

‘’So is she in?’’

‘’Well of course she’s in!’’ Zalgo stood up and thrust out his hand. ‘’Welcome to the band, Alice.’’

Alice smiled sheepishly and took his hand. ‘’Thanks...what uh- what do I get for being in it?’’

‘’Free music lessons and pop tarts. Plus vibing privileges.’’

‘’V-Vibing privileges…?’’

‘’You’re allowed come over whenever.’’ Jason explained. ‘’Though you probably have better things to do than hang out with two thirty year old men who do nothing but watch Netflix all day.’’

‘’Oh.’’

‘’Oh c’mon, we’re cool!’’ Zalgo pouted at him. ‘’In fact, I can prove it.’’

‘’Please don’t.’’ Jason murmured. Alice watched Zalgo scamper over to the corner of the room and grab one of the instruments. He held it up proudly. It was a red guitar, with two necks and a body cut into jagged shapes. He grinned and held it down to playing height, strolling back over to Alice.

‘’Pretty sweet, huh?’’

‘’Oh my god do you have to show that thing to every guest we get?’’ Jason called irritably. Zalgo shot him a look.

‘’How do you even play that…?’’ Alice asked in amazement. Zalgo smiled.

‘’Lots of practice and quick timing.’’ he replied, strumming a few chords. ‘’What instruments do ya play, girl?’’

‘’Oh uh- I- don’t. I just sing.’’ Alice glanced away nervously as she spoke. Zalgo arched a brow at her, surprised.

‘’I thought she’d be good for backup!’’ Natalie chimed in.

‘’I think she’d be good for my songs,’’ Jane added. ‘’Just like with Jason.’’ Zalgo nodded and looked at the ginger girl for a moment. He turned on his heel and put his beloved guitar down, then moved over to another part of the room and rummaged through a plastic bin he had laying around.

‘’I know just the thing for you then,’’ he murmured. Alice looked surprised, until he stood up again and held up a tambourine. ‘’This is exactly what we’ve been missing, and it’s easy to learn!’’

‘’...oh.’’ Zalgo strode over and handed the tambourine to Alice. She looked at it for a moment, then shook it halfheartedly. He grinned and clasped his hands together.

‘’Perfect!’’

Jason sighed quietly and climbed up off the couch. He dusted his hands off and glanced at Nat and Jane. ‘’You guys hungry?’’ he asked. Zalgo shot him a look.

‘’Wait what happened to practice?’’ he whined. Jason rolled his eyes and walked over to the door.

‘’You already showed off your guitar, Zalgy. And I’m hungry.’’ Jason muttered. ‘’And I’m sure the girls are starving too.’’ he turned and looked at his boyfriend. He knew Zalgo couldn’t say no to him, not when he pulled out that nickname. He eventually sighed.

‘’Fiiiiine.’’

12 notes · View notes

the south is like another country

i have an entire essay on how the current radicalism and steep political divide in this country can be traced directly back to the civil war - rural white southerners here playing the part pre-ww2 germany, the part of a resentful, conquered nation assimilated into the nation that conquered them, because if you think about it the south/the confederacy WAS its own nation for a time, that lost a very bloody war, and paid very steeply for it (not that slavers didn’t deserve every bit of misery the “carpetbaggers” threw at them), and the bitterness from that loss/the lost capital from having their slaves freed has been handed down through the generations, to people who now live in abject poverty while their livelihoods are destroyed by late stage capitalism, and their schools are so broke a lot of people here don’t even know how to read, and their towns are eaten alive with meth, and they’re still looked down upon by most of the country for being racist uneducated backwater hicks (to be clear, we should always look down on racism and racists, but it’s not making them any less bitter/ripe for being drawn into the cult of tr*mp’s america and f*cism).

but anyway this post isn’t about that! this post is about how when i go up north and i say“y’all it really is like i’m living in a different country” NOBODY BELIEVES ME. we speak the same language, we’re all americans, right? PFFFFFT. this amazon van thing just drives it home (pun intended). here’s a list of differences from the deep south* to the rest of the country*:

*the deep south here meaning the RURAL deep south. sorry to everyone who lives in cities/the suburbs and/or in border states like maryland and virginia. i’ve been to maryland and virginia and they are technically southern and some of this applies to them but it is not quite as extreme as it is here. the rest of the country includes the other states i’ve been to (california, washington state, new york, etc), which are in mostly every area except the midwest. i cannot personally vouch for the midwest. sorry, midwesterners! rural midwest probably has a lot of things in common with the deep south because rural life is different and also how easily people move around this country, but whatever

this is a long-ass post get ready

difference #1: DRIVING. driving & pedestrians are entirely different un rural areas vs urban areas. for starters, southern towns often do not even have sidewalks. this is because of 1. budget and 2. racism.

budget: rural towns are very spread out, and it costs major $$$ to put sidewalks in. it’s just not worth the trouble, financially, to put a sidewalk where only 12 people are ever going to use it, AND spend the money to maintain it. never gonna happen. racism: initially, suburbs especially in the south were seen as safe havens where people could get away from the stress of living in “urban” (re: integrated) areas. that the neighborhoods were only accessible by car and NOT by people who were too poor (black) to afford automobiles were just an added bonus.

as such, the first time i left the southeast, i was SHOCKED to see people walking and biking WITH (or indifferent to) the flow of traffic. down here we are taught that if you are walking along the road (or biking, because bikers get lumped in with pedestrians down here), it is very very very crucial that you walk against the flow of traffic, because you cannot expect drivers to see you and not mow you down. the onus is on YOU to get out of THEIR way. additionally, walking in knee-high grass along the side of the road sucks, and because there aren’t many people here, the roads are usually totally empty. so oftentimes pedestrians just straight up walk ON the road. and if you do that you absolutely have to be able to see a car coming from a long way away, because rural drivers on completely empty roads tend to take them at extremely high speeds just for fun. the people who live diagonally across from me have had to replace their mailbox four times because folks take that blind curve at 90mph. i had a cat get hit by a car on that road. (they all live indoors now.) i even witnessed a car accident happen there when i was just outside minding my own business. ever see a tire fly 12 feet into the air and come down into someone’s windshield? that’s what happens when you hit power line pole driving like that.

the first time i ever encountered one of those pedestrian crossing buttons was in california in the early 2010s. i had literally never seen one before because we simply don’t have them here. they’re not very self-explanatory if you have been jaywalking your whole entire life because all you’re taught to do is look both ways and make sure the street is empty before you cross. northern/urban roadways are made so that pedestrians and drivers can both get to where they’re going. in rural/southern areas pedestrians might as well not bother.

interestingly, while not an entirely southern problem, there’s a loose correlation between rural areas and more problems with drunk drivers.

on the driving side, driving in a city is batshit insane. it’s both faster and slower. there is NO space and you’re expected to go whenever you have so much as an inch to worm your way in. there’s more traffic, and the traffic totally dictates your speed. in the south you can change lanes if you want to drive faster or slower and weave around traffic or let it weave around you, but in a city there’s no other lane to change to and if you don’t drive at the speed of the people ahead of and behind you you will die. you turn fast, you brake fast, etc. whenever i come back from driving in a city the people who ride with me think i’m insane. you don’t PULL ONTO A ROAD if you can SEE ANOTHER CAR THERE, what the fuck? meanwhile i’m like“lol that is six miles of space i have plenty of time” and give everyone in my vicinity heart palpitations until i readjust.

tailgating in a rural area is something only assholes do (done by people on a two-lane road to encourage the person in front of them to go faster because the only other lane is for oncoming traffic), and if someone gets within one car length of me on a two-lane road i can very passively aggressively slow my vehicle to a crawl until they back the fuck off. in a city you’re lucky if you have a twelve inches between your bumper and the next car’s hood ornament.

difference #2: LANGUAGE. this is a small one, but the southern dialect combined with the lack of literacy means i am learning certain things late in life. phrases i have heard verbally with my ears but had never seen written out include: “chest of drawers” which i thought was “chester drawers” - “seven year itch” which i thought was “seven year each” - “albeit” which i thought was “i’ll be it.” i’ve made a deliberate effort to unlearn mine own accent/dialect but i run into weird shit all the time. remotes are mashers, shopping carts are buggies, you put stuff up instead of putting it away, i fix you a drink instead of pouring you one, we shoot the game instead of play it. my mom LITERALLY can’t understand me if i speak too quickly - she has to remind me all the time to slow down and put on my southern.

difference #3: TECHNOLOGY. issue of whether or not you personally have the creepy amazon vans aside, the rural south is behind the rest of the country on technology. things in cities are AUTOMATED. things like the little button you press to cross the street, tickets you take at parking garages, even the parking meters you find in cities, that’s just the beginning of it. one time i came across a little computer touch screen in a MCDONALDS where you put your order in. you didn’t even go up to the counter. you just put your order on the screen and swiped your card and then they got it ready for you and you never had to speak to a human person. self-checkouts, gas pumps where you can swipe your card and not go in and pay at first...the south got those YEARS behind everybody else. in the mid-2010s i went to DC and visited a target for maybe the 5th time ever and i was BAFFLED by the self-checkout. i had no idea how to use it! it was like less than ten years ago and i was IN MY TWENTIES and i had never seen one before! when we send a package we have to talk to a human person. when we order food we usually have to talk to a human person. apps for places like dominos and subway have not been in use here for very long. my county just got doordash LAST YEAR.

because i am 31, and because the south is so technologically behind, i am actually old enough to remember how when you used to go to a gas station an attendant would not only pump your gas but wash your windshield for you while you just SAT IN THE CAR. that seems like something from the 50s but it actually was a thing here in my childhood IN the 90s. i wish i was making this up.

difference #4: INFRASTRUCTURE. this sort of goes hand-in-hand w/ the last point because so much of our infrastructure is made of technology, and it’s also more of a rural/urban thing than a south/north thing. but just for fun here’s a non-exhaustive list of things i don’t have in my town:

starbucks* - the first time i went to a starbucks i was in my 20s

a public pool - we used to, but now the only pool here requires a YMCA membership. the only baseball diamond in this county is also at the Y.

walmart

in fact, ANYWHERE to buy clothes that is not a goodwill or other secondhand store. i cannot buy clothing unless i order it online or LEAVE MY TOWN. almost all of the clothing i own is from walmart because it’s one of the only places in my entire county where you can actually PURCHASE clothing.

grocery store chains? pffft. my town has two entire stores and both are small southern chains. i didn’t go into a publix for the first time until two years ago when i went to florida. i’ve NEVER entered a whole foods.

food delivery? yeah, no. like i said, we got doordash last year, but before that the only place you could get delivery from was a pizza chain. we only have two pizza places in my town that deliver, and one is a local place, not attached to any chain, so i can’t spend my loyalty points there. (it’s very expensive there too.) last year it was CLOSED for six months because the manager got caught dealing meth. every last one of the delivery drivers was trafficking it for him. they all got fired and had to restart from the ground up. for that short time, it was not possible to get any food delivered to your house whatsoever.

a hospital/ambulance services - if someone is sick, we have to take them to the hospital in laurens, the town next door (about 15-20 minutes by car). the town i live in lucky - we have our own police and fire departments. (acab but you know what i mean.) joanna is a smaller town next to mine that isn’t a real town - it’s been demoted to a census designated area because only 2000 people live there. if they have an emergency, they have to use OUR fire and police departments, and LAURENS’s ambulance/hospital system

after-school places kids can go to keep from getting into trouble. we have the Y, if you have money (no one here has money), and we have churches, but mostly schools can’t afford to run too many extracurriculars. there’s nothing to do here but church and meth.

food banks: zero. we have food DRIVES sometimes where people will come from further away and bring free food, but if you’re hungry, there’s nowhere you can go for help - you have to wait for help to come to you.

libraries: we don’t have our own library. we have a branch of the county library that’s physically located in our town. but we share books with the rest of the entire county, so everything is always checked out or at the other branch.

*we technically have a starbucks that’s in the local college campus, but only college students are allowed to be there. they’ll still serve people without a college ID because no one gives a fuck, but you can’t linger and loiter and hang out like you do in a normal starbucks. we also have one in the barnes and noble in greenville, which is about an hour away by car, but again, it’s a mini starbucks that serves a limited menu and none of that weird Starbucks Culture™

here’s a few things i don’t have in my ENTIRE COUNTY:

movie theaters - technically. we have a Historial™ one-screen theater in laurens that shows one movie for two weeks a month after it hits regular theaters and then switches to another, and if you miss it, too bad. this is a VERY recent addition - it wasn’t restores until i was in my 20s as a kid and a teenager i had to ride in a car an hour or more to go to the movies.

target. only commies and yankees have target. down here we do walmart.

malls

arcades

skate parks/skating rinks

bowling

museums

zoos/aquariums

campgrounds

fairs. our county fairground got razed a decade ago because there just werent enough people showing up to justify the expense. so no more fairs. you have to have people to fund things and down here there just aren’t enough people anywhere.

you get the idea. we don’t have entertainment. like i said, nothing to do but church and meth.

CLASSES FOR STUFF: knitting classes, dancing classes, driving classes? nope. gymnastics, karate dojos, golf, knitting groups, books clubs, cooking classes? [GAMESHOW BUZZER]. you can’t even hire a clown for a birthday party out here. we do have a shooting range. ONE. in the entire county. and a race track. and a rather infamous former kkk memorabilia store. they made a movie about that (serious tw for this trailer - they’ve got white hoods, burning crosses, pepper spray, the whole nine), which, yes, takes place in laurens, aka right next door to me. i used to walk by that place all the time when i was playing pokemon go. haven’t seen the movie but the shooting locations in the trailer make laurens look a lot bigger and prettier than it really is in real life - especially the racetrack, which, in the trailer, is actually PAVED. (this is inaccurate to real life.)

EDUCATION: lots of people can’t read. we have two schools for illiterate adults, one religious college, and one branch of one of the state colleges that has a skeleton staff and a fuck ton of computers (you basically just go there to distance learn/e-learn - if you want to take real classes from this college, you have to drive at least an hour.)

support groups/group therapy: almost none. we have al-anon and weight watchers, but that’s about it. there’s only half a dozen therapists in my entire county, and none that operate from my town. mental healthcare down here is bullshit.

on food: we don’t have many sit-down restaurants, where servers bring you your menu and your food. if you don’t count waffle houses, my town has 4. my county has 9. in and out, 5 guys, applebees, ruby tuesday, red lobster, olive garden, panda epxress? forget it. those places were and still are rare treats. i’ve only been to an olive garden twice. red lobster once. whenever i leave my county i BEG for chinese because there’s only two chinese restaurants in our entire county and one of them is crazy expensive and the other one sucks.

we also don’t have the more important stores you need to like, live. if we need to exchange our router at a charter store? yeah, we don’t have one. need to visit the sprint store to get your phone repaired? nuh-uh, we don’t have any phone stores either. my family recently switched to at&t because it was the only company that had a physical location in our county. before that, we had to drive an hour for even the smallest repair.

on a grimer note: we don’t have homeless shelters! homeless in laurens county? too bad for you. we do have homeless PEOPLE. they just have nowhere to go except the churches

hospitals? only kind of. like i said, our county has one, but it’s not equipped to take seriously sick people. when my mom had a heart attack she had to be driven straight to greenwood, which is 45 minutes away if you’re not in an ambulance. they obviously made it faster than that, but still. that was scary. it took them a long time to get here. i had a distant relative of mine die before the ambulance made it because they were SO far out in the sticks, even further than me.

we also don’t have any specialty stores. sporting goods, gamestops, shoe stores, florists, craft stores, bookstores, best buys...forget it. if you can’t buy it at walmart, you just can’t buy it. the exceptions: my TOWN has one jewelry store, two hardware stores, and two auto repair stores. my COUNTY has three clothing stores, none of which are in my town, one place that sells used TVs, and one movie rental place. thrilling, right? i can rent a movie if i drive out of town. (i know streaming killed the rental business, but we also only had two places when i was a kid, if you counted the rental section in the grocery store.)

so, yeah. i know the term“shithole” is really loaded these days, but rural areas are just plain less developed, and often in seriously poor repair because nobody fucking uses them. there USED to be more stuff here - my mom was on a bowling league, and as a kid i had a birthday party at a skating rink - but late stage capitalism and drugs destroyed it all. people ran out of money to do things like skate and bowl and so those places closed. the south is full of empty store fronts and deserted strip malls slowly being eaten by kudzu. my brother got out of this town and whenever he winds up back here (not often) he remarks on how completely and utterly dead everything feels.“my friends who live in greenwood now think they’re all rural,” he said once.“they complain constantly about how remote it is. but they have no idea. they wouldn’t make it five minutes out here.” greenwood has its own movie theater, mall, starbucks, homeless shelter, food bank, and hospital.

so, yeah! if you were wondering what rural white southerners are so fucking mad about, that’s part of it. propaganda and xenophobia and racism has their anger directed ENTIRELY at the wrong people, but it’s hard to argue that the anger itself isn’t just a little bit justified.

difference #5: CULTURE. specifically culture around food, and the culture around the civil war. i could write an entire other essay about the culture of the church being everything because the church IS the only semblance of infrastructure we have and this is why the south is so homophobic, but we’ll skip that for now.

food: this is a quickie, because i sort of touched on it already, but there are like, almost NO vegetarian options here. there’s very limited choices of cuisine. it’s ALL waffle house and soul food. we have a lot of mexican places because we’re physically close to the mexican border, but aside from that, forget finding like indian or thai or japanese or anything like that. no sushi. forget finding a menu that has meals that are halal or kosher. there’s just. no culture here. no variety. you know? like i said, our entire county doesn’t even hit double-digits for proper sit-down restaurants.

civil war: i’m not going to go into the big stuff since i sort of covered it at the top and also this post is getting way too long, but to other white rural southerners there is legitimate baggage around the fact that my mom married a yankee and that i am half-yankee. and he’s not even a real yankee! he was born up north but raised in southern florida. (florida is weird. the further south you go geographically, the less southern you are culturally.) yet: my family makes jokes that are sometimes not jokes about this. when i drop this information in casual conversation people get that look on their faces like: ah, that explains it. it being that i am not religious and don’t laugh at racist jokes and maybe i am queer?? (strangers tend to be unsure about this last part, even when i’m wearing rainbows.) it’s because i’m half-yank! that explains everything! the xenophobia is SO strong here that white people are even xenophobic at OTHER WHITE PEOPLE.

so in conclusion when i say the north is like another country, it’s because the people who raised me think of it like another country. and culturally! it is buck wild! the differences that there are! when i leave this town i feel like i step into fucking star trek! if you are not from the rural south, and you have never been to the rural south, please do not come here! i’ve been to a few different places now and this is definitely my least favorite one.

8 notes · View notes

I have awoken in a feverish daze with one thought on my mind, cat boy em. Like normal Em but with super cute cat ears and a tail, Kells would lose his damn mind

"Pffffft-" Colson was struggling to contain what was bound to be stomach keeling cackle.

"They sent the wrong item okay-" Marshall looked beyond done with the situation, a faint flush of color coloring his cheekbones.

The younger rapper knew his partner was telling the truth, that there had to have been a mistake in the order. But that wasn't going to stop him from taking delight in the conveniently ironic outcome. "Mhm."

His eyes were locked on the small box sitting on the brunette's lap, the contents inside it what had them in this comical situation in the first place.

It was a special order the older rapper had sent out for weeks earlier. Well, it was supposed to be his order. While it was from the same online store the item inside was far from the new custom silk restraints Marshall had requested. Instead a soft and almost uncannily realistic looking pair of cat ears and a tail sat curled up amongst the colorful paper stuffing.

Dark brown ones to be exact, almost the same exact shade as the older rapper's hair color from what Colson could gleam from where he was standing.

"What a pain in the ass," Marshall was sighing, a hand coming up to stressfully rub at his temple while he tossed the box aside. "I'm gonna have to get on the phone with them and figure out how to return this shit and where our actual package ended up."

Colson couldn't help but be drawn to the box, his fingers reaching out to run over the soft faux fur. "Thought they have a strict no return policy, I mean, I wouldn't want to be accepting back any freaky sex toys-"

"Yeah but this has to be an exception, it's not even our order. Probably some weird kinky couple out there wondering where the hell their new fluffy butt plug is-"

Colson's eye's moved down to the tail, immediately locking on the small plug that did indeed rest at the base. "Whoa it's a plug? I thought it was like- like one you hook on- whoa." Examining it closer he realized it was actually detachable and could be converted into either.

The quality was almost breathtaking.

"Of course it's a plug, the weirdos who are into that kinda stuff al-- put it the fuck down!" Marshall's hands slapped at his own and knocked him from his revere. "Don't go playing with it, they won't accept it back if it looks used at all-"

"They probably won't let us return it in the first place." Colson felt a bit miffed, their hands getting into a minor swat fight until he finally just snatched the whole box up off the bed. "Stop smacking me! I'm just- ow- I'm just saying- how would they know if we weren't just lieing about not using them? What, are they gonna test this crap? No. They'd be better off just not accepting it back-"

"Then it'll get tossed in the trash, I don't care! But until they say that, don't fucking touch it!"

The blonde almost felt like a child being reprimanded, or a sibling stuck in a game of tug of war with how Marshall and him were both pulling at the cardboard box.

The suggestion they just toss the albeit strange toys out had Colson feeling a bit defensive of them. It felt wasteful to just throw out something so artfully crafted, even if the subject matter was a bit cringey. Besides how often did people get an opportunity to explore some random fetish like this with high quality goods?

"You're being ridiculous! We should at least try them out, what's wearing a pair of fluffy ears going to hurt?"

His outburst finally seemed to shock the brunette into silence. A confused look crossing the mans face before he finally stuttered out a "W-what?"

Mind made up Colson hugged the box closer and took off towards the bathroom. Leaving his partner sat on the bed while he situated himself in front of the mirror.

There was no way the company would accept them back, not after the packaging itself had already been opened.

Ignoring the tail altogether Colson focused on the soft fluffy ears, plucking them up out of the box to examine the mechanics. He expected a head band of some sort but instead they seemed to clip onto ones hair.

Snapping them into place wasn't an easy feat however, Colson needed to squeeze really hard for the clip to click and when he was finished the ears were horribly lopsided. Not to mention how strange the dark fur looked in comparison to his own platinum hair.

Still he couldn't help but laugh a little and pop his head out into the doorway. "Fuck, aha, I don't think I did this right but- How do I look?"

Marshall's expression was one of downright discomfort. His mouth opening and closing a few times before he just shook his head and dropped his face down into his hands. And somehow that reaction was funnier than the look of the ears themselves.

His earlier cackle came bubbling back up to the surface until he was stumbling back across the room. Tossing the box haphazardly onto the pillows so he could flop back and safely continue his laughing. "What? Don't I look cute? Ahahah, don't you just want to- to snuggle me?"

"You look out of your fucking mind, that's how you look-"

"Oh, cmon Marsh- is that any way to- to talk to your precious little kitten?" Colson could barely get the words out between laughs, his legs kicking in the air at his own poor jokes.

A slap to his chest only had him laughing harder. "Animal abuse! Animal abuse! Hit me again and I'll call Peta!"

"You're insufferable." Marshall was groaning and burying his face in his hands again. Despite his huffing Colson could still make out the faint shake in his shoulders. It only spurred him on.

"Oh cmon, why don't you try being sweet to me and see if I'll purr-" that paired with his fingers sleazily trailing up the older mans arm finally had the rapper cracking. A snort escaping his mouth before the floodgates released and his shoulders began to properly shake from laughter.

"If you start purring I'm gonna kick you outta this room, I mean it-"

Colson's chest felt light and warm when he realized Marshall was wiping wet tears from his eyes. The smile plastered on his face already hurt with how wide it was, but he couldn't help himself and purred loudly.

The mock cat noise was cut off by Marshall dropping back onto his chest. An audible "oof" leaving his mouth while all the air was forced from his lungs. The man didn't even bother hiding his smirk, just sighed and reached up to tug at one of the cat ears.

"Ow-"

"They're on their pretty good huh?" Marshall's eyes finally twinkled with interest. Head tilting until his ear was pressed against the blonde's chest. It was a comforting sight to Colson, even if he was pretty sure the man was looking at him at his most unflattering angle with how his chin was pressed to his chest.

"Yeah- ow- fuck, stop- stop pulling on them." Swatting away the older males hand Colson decided it was time to pull them off. Before the guy ended up yanking his hair out by the roots. "One second-"

Another few painful moments of fiddling and he finally got them to unclamp, each ear plopping down onto the older's rappers tee as they were removed.

The brunette immediately plucked them up and began examining them more closely, blue eyes downcast and his expression mellowing. "They're softer than I thought they'd be-"

"Yeah, it's a really good quality faux fur-" Planting his hands on the mattress Colson moved to sit himself up.

To his surprise Marshall just lifted his back up long enough for the blonde to move before promptly settling back down against his thigh again. Fingers clicking the barrett part of one ear curiously.

With them now so close to the older rapper's beard and hair really could see the similarity in shade. It was uncanny. They almost looked made for Marshall specifically.

The suggestion left his mouth before he could stop himself. "Try them on-" Blue eyes finally darted up to meet his own yet again, and the confidence in his voice faltered. "I-I mean, I did, and- they- well, they match your hair better and-"

Suddenly his face felt like it was on fire, just the idea of Marshall actually wearing something like that enough to have his stomach feeling hot.

The smaller rapper looked at him for another long moment, eyes boring into his own until he couldn't help but rub his hands over his face and backtrack. "O-Or don't! That works too-"

"Put them on for me-" A furry ear pressed against his knuckles. Peeking out from behind his hands Colson felt his tongue tie itself in a knot. His partner was looking at him expectantly and shaking the offered ear. "I don't feel like getting up to use the mirror."

"Yo-Wait, are you serious? Okay!" The excitement in the younger rapper's voice was palpable and he could tell it amused Marshall by the way his mouth quirked up briefly.

His fingers immediately ran through the short cropped dark hair atop his partner's head. Heart skipping from how much he loved the new longer length. "Do you think it's even long enough to clip?" He honestly didn't but that wasn't going to stop him from trying.

Colson plucked up one of the ears and curled himself over the brunette's head. Marshall gave a few yelps of complaint while he tugged and poked at his head but after a few minutes of trial and error he actually got the ear to snap into place.

The second one went on a lot quicker and after another couple minutes of listening to Marshall yowl and curse he had the second one in place. Back finally able to straighten so he could admire his handiwork.

Colson immediately regretted his suggestion upon doing so.

The soft blue gaze glaring up at him partnered with how perfectly the fur blended in with Marshall's hair felt like it lit his face on fire.

If he thought his tongue felt tangled before it most definitely was now.

"What?" Marshall's eyebrows furrowed closer together. "Why're you looking at me like that?"

"I-"

"You?" Marshall motioned for him to continue and the action was so cute Colson's teeth hurt.

"I think I've got a new kink-"

The palm to his face was expected, so was Marshall jerking his body up off of him. "Alright, they're going in the trash."

"What? No!" Colson couldn't let this new discovery about himself be crushed so quickly. "Don't take them off yet-"

Shooting back up the blonde looped his arms around the smaller rapper's back and dragged him back down onto the bed. Wrestling with him for a moment until he finally managed to pin the older man down. Hupd wiggled between his spread legs and fingers wrapped around his biceps.

"Colson-"

"Please?" Colson knew he was being pathetic, shooting the other man such big puppy dog eyes over something as creepy this. But he couldn't help himself. "Just for a few more minutes?"

Marshall's eyes avoided his for a moment, face contorted up in a scowl before the man finally sagged back against the bed in acceptance. "Fine. But if you get fucking weird I'm gonna be the one calling PETA."

Snorting Colson swooped his head down to steal a quick kiss. Hands releasing their death grip to instead slide, palm down along his partners arms until he reached his wrists. "When aren't I fucking weird?"

"You-" Marshall gasped sharply when his palms moved down to push up his shirt. Colson's mouth nipping along the edge of the older man's fuzzy jaw. "You know what I mean brat-"

The scratch of beard against his face burned but it just reminded Colson of a cats tongue, rough and still somehow soft.

Pulling back his eyes traveled back up to the fuzzy points sticking out of his partners head. Cock already swelling in his jeans while he reached one hand up to lightly tug at them.

The resistance from the clip and Marshall's hiss just made it seem all the more real. "God, they're so cute on you-" He wanted to bite them even though he knew realistically the other man wouldn't feel a thing.

Colson ended up nuzzling his face into one instead, the hand on Marshall's chest climbing until it could palm over a nipple.

The responding jerk of hips and fingers tracing over his own ribs had Colson laughing. Mouth trailing back down to bite around the shell of Marshall's actual ear. The hand he had up fiddling with the cat dropping down to curl around the back of one thigh, hike their bodies closer together.

A satisfied groan rumbled between them, one that had Colson stealing the brunette's lips again. Hips rolling until another noise hummed between their mouths.

"Fuck-" he dropped his head down just as Marshall bared his throat. Lips sealing over the other man's pulse point to suck a mark. "God you even purr like a cat-"

The sharp tug on his hair signified Marshall's irritation but Colson just laughed and moved on to make another mark. Foot digging into the sheets so he could rock their bodies together in a soft steady rhythm.

The action only earned him more pleased noises, some that sounded like Marshall really was teasing him. Until he had both palms clutching the older rappers ass through his briefs, ever thankful of the man's inability to wear his pants properly.

A particularly satisfying roll of hips had him cursing. Their teeth clacking when he frantically connected their mouth's let again. The sight of Marshall with those cat ears had him so riled up he might actually come before they could actually fuck.

------

And Imma cut it here because the full answer is so damn long it doesnt actually fit! I did post the full smutty ficlet to ao3 however

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23379910/chapters/56023525

11 notes · View notes

OTP QUESTIONS for Barnalau :) (4, 9, 8, 12)

4. Who is more likely to tell the other a pun and what is the other’s reaction to the pun?

“Well, if that isn’t my lovely and beautiful king...” Barnaby’s voice is reminiscent to a purr, and he gently snakes his arms around Laurent’s waist in order to pull him closer.

Feeling their chests pressing together, Laurent’s face flushes, but he quickly gathers himself back together and shows off his biggest grin.“If I may say, you are quite daz-lee-ing yourself...”

“Huh, is that so? I might need some convincing...”

“Of course you do.” Fingers grabbing on his shirt’s collar, Laurent pulls his boyfriend closer for a deep kiss.

Both of them absolutely love puns, and it’s basically a competition of‘who can tell the best pun’. Their friends are so tired of them.

9. When they sit side by side, do they touch one another? For example, does one person has their arm around the other, do they sit holding hands, or linked arms, ECT.

“I can’t even tell which limb belongs to who!” Tulip Karasu exclaims as she gives her friends an astonished look.

“Frankly, neither do it” Laurent giggles, thin fingers covering his mouth to hide his chipped tooth. Barnaby is quick to notice that and nuzzles his cheek in a way that said‘Don’t be insecure’.

Laurent’s heartbeat only speeds up.

“So... if I understand well, Laurent King is sitting on Barnaby’s lap, but your legs are also sort of... tangled with each other. Oh, and King’s arm is around Barnaby’s shoulder while Barnaby’s hand is holding King’s other hand... and...” At last, she lets out a defeated grown and slouches down.“This is way too complicated”

These guys are massive cuddlebugs, and it shows whenever they are sitting side by side! There is no way they don’t end up somehow touching each other.

8. In a coffee shop AU, who would be the coffee shop employee and who would be the customer?

The fourth time he came, he smiled at Lau, and asked him for his name, even though it was written on his name tag. Maybe he wanted to chat him up ? Lau liked to think so, instead of considering the possibility he simply didn’t notice his pin. After talking for a few seconds, they had to get moving, though, since Lau needed to take care of the other clients waiting in line. He watched as the other man sat at the table near the window, and proceeded to take orders.

Ever since, Barnaby Lee, as his name turned out to be, would always try and chat with him while ordering and waiting for his donut and coffee. And ever since, Lau absolutely enjoyed these few minutes.

Meeee? Promoting my writing? Pffffft!! More seriously, though, Lau would be the employee and Barnaby the customer, as demonstrated in my fic Soft Pretzel!

12. When did they know that loved each other, and when did they first tell each other that they loved one another?

They knew that they loved each other fairly quickly, honestly. It was a smile, a giggle, a lingering touch, something so elusive that it just hit them just like a truck: I love this guy.

Saying it, however, took a lot of time since both of them were afraid to freak the other out. Eventually, they ended up saying it without thinking. For Barnaby, it was when he saw Laurent wearing his shirt and he just couldn’t handle how big and cute it looked on him. The words came naturally. I love you so much. As for Laurent, seeing Barnaby play with creatures did the trick (and it ended up with them making out in the middle of Puffskeins and Nifflers).

6 notes · View notes

A Difficult Night- An Mercy x Anxious!Reader Drabble

What?? this totally isn’t a self insert pffffft.

Characters: Mercy (Angela Ziegler), Reader.

Word Count: 1,503

Trigger Warning: Self Harm/Almost Attempted Suicide.

Thousands of ice particles rushed through the chilling air outside the windowpane; the soft glow of the moon bouncing off the nearby snowdrifts. The cabin that had been gifted to you for a holiday retreat by Overwatch was comfortably toasty, but its isolation prevented much contact with the outside world. It had its futuristic flairs, of course, but it was still… remote.

Angela and you had decided to spend the weekend before Christmas together here, then go back to base to celebrate the holiday with the rest of the gang. It was so relieving to see the weight leave Angela’s shoulders, her breath slowing and her resting smile growing just a bit more truthful. That was, when she was here. For tonight’s entertainment, the two of you had decided to power off all of the technology in the house, and have a truly heart to heart experience, complete with a crackling fire. However, the wood pile inside was disappointingly low, so Angela had decided to go and split more of the larger slabs of timber into smaller pieces, while you took care of preparing the room for prime relaxation.

The den was calm, the air filled with the smell of splintering firewood. Silence crept around the edges of the fire’s purr. Being alone was rare nowadays; whether it be with your crew, or with your lovely angel herself, you always had someone to keep you mostly grounded. Keeping the anxiety at bay.

But, now?

The thought came nonchalantly, almost like a bored office worker approached the water cooler. “Angela doesn’t actually love you. She doesn’t like how you look, and is only doing this to keep you happy. She doesn’t actually care.” The intrusive stranger began to frantically push its way towards the front of your mind, it’s claims getting more and more wild. “You’re a freak. How could anyone love you?” Your mental blockades began to rise, attempting to walk off the raging thought. “No,” they exclaimed, “that doesn’t make any sense! Angela loves me, she wouldn’t lie.” Almost as quick as it had appeared, the intruder snapped back, shattering your psyche. “She’s a doctor, right? The best doctor. She only sees you as a patient. She knows exactly what to say to make you feel better, but could give fuck all about actually loving you. You’re a pathetic, anxious, broken mess of a person, and she’s perfect; why would she ever love you?”

Your eyes began to ache towards the rear; phantom tears, unsuccessful in leaving. Your breaths were shallow, unsteady, and growing faster by the moment. Your hands picked at the zipper of your coat at your hip, the metal design being thrusted further and further into your palms. Fixated eyes stared relentlessly at the fire-stirrer, its sharpened point becoming more and more inviting…

The cold never truly broke Angela. After caring for Mei’s severe frostbite when she first arrived at base, Ziegler had been training herself in the art of frost-protection, making sure that her body could withstand more extreme circumstances. The oak lumber by her side lay successfully chopped, the fresh smell of nature being choked by the flurry of snow. With a proud beam across her face, Angela sheathed the cabin’s hatchet and collected her harvest. Soft patches of snow collapsed under the doctor’s step, her pace confident, but desperate to get inside. Stomping across the porch as to not track ice back into the cabin, Angela balanced her planks in one hand before opening the door with her other. “Libeling, you would not believe how simple this really is! It also gets out a lot of stress build up, let me tell y-”

Angela had to stop from dropping all of the wood onto the cabin floor when she saw the state of her partner. You sat on a small rug close to the empty fireplace, frantically attempting to wrap your arm in an old gauze. A crimson-dipped pocket knife was thrown against the couch, with small specks of liquid following a path to your sobbing state.

A doctor’s instincts are true to their beholder nearly every moment of the doctor’s life. This, however, was not one of them. Dumping the wood into the nearby empty box, Angela crumpled to your level and wrapped her arms around you, your back leaning against her chest. Her hands folded your forearms together towards your chest, keeping them as close to her as possible. Angela’s emotions betrayed her, and she began to sob uncontrollably, stroking your hair shakily.

“My dear, my poor, poor soldier… I… I am so sorry you have to carry this curse. This horrid, despicable feeling in your chest.” Angela buried her face into your shoulder, gently kissing your neck as she cradled you close. Your tears finally reached her fingers, delicately tracing her knuckles down towards your legs.

“I… I don’t deserve you, Angela. I’m an grotesque mess of a human being; my anxiety is my identity, I… why can’t I just fucking get rid of it?” Your breathing began to speed up again, your eyes welling up and your throat collapsing in on itself. “I’m so weak, and I’m not doing anything to… and it just feels like.. why should you even love me? I’m just pathetic…” Your digging words were supposed to continue, but your crying prevented you from doing so. Your head gave out, whipping forwards in defeat.

Angela couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Her love, this bright glow of energy.. didn’t think she actually cared about them?

Lifting you off of her chest and turning you to face her, Mercy didn’t know exactly what to say first.

“My darling, my beautiful, beautiful love, I… I cannot begin to describe how important you are to me. Your smile could warm the coldest of storms. Your heart is so full, and so bursting with love. I hate, I hate so much to see you like this. I hate to see you unsure of your body, of your mind, and of your right to live. I can’t start anywhere without saying that you… you are the love of my life. I have never found someone so brave…” Angela’s hand reached out to your bandaged arm, rubbing circles into the cloth, “.. and so courageous. You, my liebling, have made it through hell and back to get here… to get to be where you are.” Angela pulled you closer as she sat directly across from you, her knees colliding with your own. “I could not ask for a better friend, a better lover, a better life partner. I am so…” The poor doctor had to clear the tears from her throat with a chuckle, attempting to ever so slightly lighten the mood. “I am so proud of you. I am so in love with every part of you, every aspect and every edge. I am right here, right now, and I promise you that I would not, and could not, disappear. You are loved. You are so, so loved.” With a small smile, Angela pulled you back into her arms, her lips wrapping themselves onto your forehead with a delicate kiss.

While in her embrace, her promise finally broke down the emotional walls. Sobbing, you thanked her unendingly, your thoughts spilling out all at once. “I want to spend the rest of my life with yo-I want to just be with you every mo-and I am sorry for- my life wouldn’t be the same without you…” your ramblings wouldn’t end, but Angela didn’t care. She smiled down upon you, her lips reaching upwards into a smile. A genuine, non-sleep deprived smile.

After your poor unending ramblings concluded, Angela had brought you to the couch and held you in her arms, her hair put down from its usual ponytail and spreading across her head. If anyone had to be named a goddess of the universe, there was no doubt that it was Angela. Your Angela. Unwinding in the warm aura of the burning fire, you could feel Angela’s heartbeat through her oversized shirt. It was your shirt, but she didn’t care. She didn’t care how big it was on her. All that she cared about was that you were safe, and here with her. The scent of freshly burned oak and vanilla soap danced upon Angela’s skin as she held you, and she hummed one of her favorite songs from growing up.

“Angela?” You asked, not moving your head.

“Yes, my love?” Angela responded, looking down upon you and shifting the hair from your face.

“What you said.. about the whole wanting to spend your life with me thing, and the love of my life thing, too… did you mean all of that?”

“Every word, my beautiful liebling.” Mercy cooed back, placing another kiss on your forehead.

“So… if I was to… I don’t know… ask you to mar-”

“Yes, my beloved. Yes. I would say yes in a heartbeat.”

Looking up, you locked eyes with her.

“Really?”

“On my life, my love, and my ability as a doctor, yes.”

28 notes · View notes

Temporary Affairs II

Table of Contents1234567 8 9 10 11 12 13

Chapter o7. Kim Yoona

“Oppa, which one should I wear?” you asked, holding up two maternity dresses in your hands.

Jongin, who had already been dressed twenty-minutes ago, looked from one selection to the other then back again five more times.

“What’s the difference?” he asked, dumbfounded.

You looked at him as if he just cursed your father so he squinted to reexamine the details.

“I really don’t see the difference,” your husband honestly answered.

You huffed and puffed at his ignorance.

“The difference is that this one has an empire waist,” you said holding up the dress in your right hand then raised the one in your left hand, “and this one does not”.

“Uh…that one then,” Jongin said pointing to the left one.

“But the empire waist one makes me look prettier…” you slurred.

“Then wear that one,” he answered, exasperated.

“Okay!” you chipped as if you were a little girl getting your parent’s approval.

With your bangs braided into a crown and dressed in the teal empire waist dress Jongin…well you chose earlier, you walked hand in hand with your husband into the hotel. Due to your indecisiveness on choosing your outfit, you two were late to the party. Guests had already filed into the lobby, crowding up in line to get a glimpse of the center stage. Today, another couple was getting engaged. When people began to push, Jongin protectively curled his arms around your waist from behind. You looked up at him confused but he just shook his head and gave you a reassuring smile so you turned your attention back to the stage.

The girl was apparently the heir of a tea company and the guy was the inheritor of a soap company. Yeah, it may sound strange for them to be arranged to marry but rumors spread that the soap company wanted their license to use the tea brand for future soap scents.

“Do they remind you of us?” you sighed.

“No, not really. They look like they don’t like each other at all,” Jongin replied.

You pouted and strained your neck back to give your husband a look of uncertainty.

“We didn’t like each other either,” you reminded him.

“Maybe during the beginning but by the engagement announcement, I already knew I wanted you as my wife,” he responded. Really? But you kept mute, fearing that he’d just sweet-talk like he always did instead of telling you how he honestly felt.

As the crowd cheered, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”, Jongin’s shoulders shook up and down. You turned around wondering what had caused the fine-looking heir to laugh so hard. Noticing your intense stare, he tried his best to suppress his laughter.

“Jagiya, remember when you fainted after I kissed you during our engagement?” your husband said in between his chuckles.

-___-

You face palmed.

“I don’t want to remember,” you mumbled.

“You were so cute,” he added, kissing the top of your head. You returned his favor by lightly elbowing his chest.

Revealing your flushed complexion from your hands, you gazed forward to the stage but realized you had missed the special moment between the new couple. Your shoulders sagged with a heavy sigh.

After the announcement ceremony ended, the mass of people began to disperse off to the dining halls for food and more socializing. But you wanted to stay and talk to the main female lead…just to tell her that she’ll be okay and everything will work out in the end. So you followed her to the dressing room. Without a word, Jongin trailed behind.

At the doorway, you lifted your fist to politely knock before intruding, but your hand dropped to your side at the sound of muffled cries. She donned a stunning yellow sweetheart dress that tapered into a mermaid’s tail at the bottom. Her hair, silky smooth came together in a half updo, resting on her shoulders like fresh seaweed.

With a sad smile, you entered the room. She doesn’t notice you, all too engulfed in her sorrow. You placed a hand on her bare shoulder, as gently as possible to not startle her but it frightened her anyway.

“Hey, I’m ________ ________,” you introduced, holding your hand out.

She didn’t take it, instead hung her head low. Nodding understandingly, you retreated your hand and took a seat beside her.

“Sucks, doesn’t it?” you said bluntly.

She finally looked up.

“‘Why was I born into a family that puts money before happiness? Why couldn’t I be born into a regular family and marry someone I love?’ I used to keep asking that over and over again until I drilled those thoughts into my brain,” you spoke.

“W-were…you forced to marry someone for your father’s company too?” she stuttered.

“Hmm…I guess you can say that it began that way…” you started.

The new bride looked up at you anticipating you to finish your thoughts.

“It began that way. My husband’s parents and my parents have been business partners for over twenty years and to secure this relationship for future generations, my father thought it would be appropriate for us to get married. But my husband was such a douchebag at first,” you stopped to contain your laughter then continued, “Do you know what he told me on the first date?”

“What?” the girl asked intrigued by your story.

“He told me that I was ugly and that he had no interest in me,” you reminiscence then brought your hand to block your mouth to whisper, “and in his words, ‘Not a D-cup’”.

The girl gasped then succumbed to a fit of giggles. You internally gave yourself a pat on the shoulder for cheering her up.

“But I love him,” you admitted.

“I do too,” the girl also confessed. So she is in the same bind as me. The giver, the pre-determined loser in the game of love.

You patted her hands.

“But he doesn’t love me,” her voice cracked. And even till today, I’m not sure if my husband loves me either.

“My husband screamed for divorce the second day into our marriage,” you informed.

She looked at you shocked.

You laughed, “But here we are today. Still married and about to welcome our first child”.

The girl sighed in relief.

“So don’t fright. It’ll be okay and maybe if it isn’t…it was never meant to be,” you finished.

She returned your smile with her own.

“Thanks for sharing your story. I feel a lot better now. I’m Becky, by the way,” she finally held her hand out. You happily shook it.

You were so focused on your conversation with Becky, you had forgotten Jongin was waiting right outside for you so when you stepped out and bumped right into him, your heart almost jumped out of your chest.

“Oh my God, Oppa,” you addressed, placing your hand on your heart.

He threw you a half smile, positioned his arm around your shoulder, and tugged you away. You’re not sure why he was so quiet and lost in deep thought while you two walked to the buffet area of the dining hall. You took a plate and cheerfully started to gather up food. But from behind, a wild hand snatched onto the plate, seizing it from you. The owner was none other than Kim Jongin.

With your lower lip protruding outward, you whined, “Oppaa…”

Holding your hand, he guided it around his body so that you were practically clinging onto his waist as he walked around and surveyed the available food. At first, you were a bit upset that he didn’t even ask you what you wanted. Food tyrant, much? But when you peeped at the plate and saw all your favorite foods a.k.a. pig intestine sausages, sweet potatoes, and onion salad, little fairies fluttered in your stomach.

“Hehe,” you twittered when Jongin held a piece of sweet potato crisp up to your lips.

You leaned in to take a bite but he teasingly held it higher and higher until you were on your tippy toes.

“Oppa! Hmph,” you slapped his arm and crossed yours over your chest.

“I’m just teasing you, Babe,” he cackled and brought the piece right onto your lips.

You ate it, not forgetting to take advantage and glob your saliva all over your husband’s hands. Instead of being mad, he merely laughed at your immaturity.

“Jongin-ah!” a familiar voice called.

Both of you turned around to see Lee Taemin and Bang Minah, hand in hand. You wiggled your eyebrow playfully pointing to their intertwined hands. Minah blushed and hid behind Taemin.

“Oh ho ho, since when did you two…” your husband said.

“We’re not together,” Minah waved her hands defensively.

“…yet” Taemin finished causing both Minah and you to fangirl and swoon.

After five minutes of Jongin and you harassing the new couple for information about their secretive relationship, the four of you separated into pairs to catch up; Jongin with Taemin and you with Minah. Looping your hand through Minah’s, you dragged her up to the rooftop to further grill her.

With narrowed eyes and hands on your hips, you said, “Bang Minah, how dare you not tell me something so crucial”.

She laughed, nervously poking her two index fingertips together.

But then an idea came to her mind and she countered, “Hey! You didn’t tell me when you were dating Kim Jongin either!”

“That’s because we weren’t real back then!” you shouted back, shocked by her comeback. Are we real now…though?

“Pfftt,” your best friend rolled her eyes.

“Don’t ‘pffffft’ me, Bang Minah!” you scolded.

“Pfffffffffffffffffffffft,” she exaggerated the sound.

“BANG MINAH!” you hollered. You couldn’t believe it. Were you two inseparable best friends, who people constantly mistaken as twins, really fighting over something this insignificant?

“________ ________!” she shouted back with your name, only ten times louder into your ear.

As she does, you lifted your hand to cover your ear but ended up accidentally scratching her cheek.

“DID YOU JUST SCRATCH ME?!” she yelled.

“No, sorry. Sorry, that was seriously an accident,” you quickly apologized but Minah was fuming.

“Jeez, you’re such a baby. You’re not ready to be a mother,” she said under her breath.

You stood still in place with your fists clenched. First, your husband…now your best friend doubted your ability to be a mother. You bit your lip when tears threatened to fall. But because you were stubborn and so upset with your best friend, you clicked your shoes to leave.

“Hey…_______ah, you’re not mad, are you?” Minah called after you but you slammed the rooftop door in her face.

As you went down the stairs, streams of warm liquid slowly poured out of your eyes. Your back throbbed and the soles of your feet were all pink and blotchy. It didn’t help that the baby was kicking and kicking harder and harder. You stopped at a hallway to take a breather and rub your belly to calm the baby down.

“Shh, Honey, sorry Omma scared you. Everything is okay now,” you soothed.

“________ ________,” a female voice called.

As soon as you saw the big round eyes of Lee Sohee, you immediately turned around. Not now. Now’s not the time for this. But she stepped in front of you to prevent you from leaving.

“You think I don’t know that you’re posting all those pictures to brag to me about your wonderful relationship with Oppa?”

Rolling your eyes, you pushed her aside and kept walking. She followed closely behind, grabbing your arm.

“If it wasn’t you, Oppa and I would still be together. He’s just treating you well because his father’s company needs your help!” she provoked.

“Just…just leave me alone!” you said, exasperated.

Flinging her arm away, you stalked off again. Right now, you needed to either find a place to hide and cry your eyes out or find Jongin and cry in his warm arms. You chose the latter so you paced yourself to the dining hall, where you both had agreed to meet up at earlier. To your dismay, Sohee followed.

“Just because you have his baby doesn’t mean anything. He doesn’t love you and won’t keep you after you give birth!” she shouted and you grimaced.

Her voice kept ringing in your ear. Your mind was in total panic mode with all the screaming and shouting. All the socializing, chitchatting, laughter, and background music of the place modge podged into a heap of disaster. Your back hurt more with every second you were on your feet. The new flats you had on weren’t as comfortable as your husband had promised. Minah kept calling your phone. And from your right, a waiter tried to offer you a piece of cake. No. No. NO! You needed to escape badly. So you ran down the stairs. Sohee’s footsteps ran after you.

“Oppa!” you called as your feet touched the last step of the stairway.

But instead of falling flat against the marble, your foot missed the step by a few centimeters. Losing your footing, you stumbled forward. Your hip came crashing hard against the floor beneath you. You gasped, stunned and frozen in place. The noise around you ceased. Jongin who was across the hall earlier, dashed over.

“Jagiya!” he called out, kneeling down beside you.

Your lips parted but no sound came out.

Out of instincts, Jongin started to lift you into his arms but a fellow guest rushed over hollering for him to stop.

“DON’T pick her up! I’m a doctor,” he spoke then turned to the crowd, “someone, please call the ambulance!”

Whimpering, you continued to wheeze for air. You clawed at the floor when the pain in your abdomen set in. No. No. NO. Out of fear, you refused to look down to check the damage, so you kept your eyes staring straight to nothing in particular. Helpless, Jongin got down onto the floor with you. He stroked the back of your head and brought his body closer to yours. For the first few moments, you even refused to look into Jongin’s eyes.

“Jagiya,” his voice lined with devastation.

“I-It’s be-because I’m not good en-nough to be a mother,” you heard your voice whisper as the first tear fell.

“No, no. Jagiya, don’t do this. Everything will be okay. We’ll be fine,” Jongin begged.

The pain in your stomach was so excruciating it felt as if someone had took a sword, sliced open your abdomen, and scraped along your raw flesh. You burst into tears, clawing onto Jongin’s hand tightly. Your loud wails echoed through the large dining hall down to the lobby. Crowds of people encircled around you to see the commotion. You don’t even have time to think or to analyze the situation because your brain was just a mass of nothingness.

“Oppa…” you heard Sohee’s voice call out.

“GO!” he bellowed.

“I didn’t push her…I swear,” she said defensively, her voice shaking.

With gritted teeth, Jongin threatened, “Lee Sohee, don’t you dare ever come near my wife because if you do anything else to provoke her, I don’t care if you are a female, I will make sure you don’t leave here in one piece. DO YOU HEAR ME?”

He finished and laid back down beside you. By now, you could no longer feel any type of pain, or really any sensation in your body. Even your loud shattering wails died down into trembling sobs. For the first time, you placed your palm onto your stomach. Is it because you don’t want me as your Omma? I know, Omma is not good enough but I swear if you give me a chance…please if you give me one chance, I’ll do anything – anything to protect you.

Jongin placed his hand over yours on your stomach. You looked into his dark orbs that mirrored your watery ones.

“Oppa, can we decide a name for her?” your voice cracked.

Because you knew…it was so evident from the beginning that you were unfit for this role as a mother. But even if the baby leaves you, you wanted to gift her at least a name for willing to stay with you for these past six months…because there was something so melancholy and heart breaking about dying nameless, with no one to remember you…lost and forgotten like the faint howls that faded into the vast seas.

“Kim Yoona,” your husband responded, patting your stomach.

“Yoona…” you called, rubbing your tummy as well.

Kim Yoona. The name that will forever be engraved in the depths of your heart. Forever the little piece of you that remained empty and void. Forever the reason why you’ll never forget the tiny being that once entrusted you with her delicate little life. You betrayed her. Yoona, if you give Omma a chance to make it up to you, I swear. I swear I will do anything.

“Oppa…I’m sorry,” you tearfully apologized. You won’t want to keep me after this. No one will.

With his face twisted, he shook his head and said, “No, it’s fine. Everything will be fine”.

“Oppa…thank you for taking me as your wife,” you heard your voice say in a volume that was almost inaudible.

“Wh-what?” Jongin asked then begged when your eyelids swung, “Jagiya, don’t sleep”.

“I…love…you,” you whispered with your last ounce of energy.

Your eyes rolled back and you faintly hear your husband’s weeping voice call out to you to stay with him. Are you really willing to keep me?

a/n: why?╥﹏╥

Oh gosh, I almost posted chapter 7 of Beautiful Distraction instead! Thank goodness I double checked or else it would have spoiled the whole story. (Which, btw I can't stop rereading ._.)

83 notes · View notes

4. Getting stuck in a closet/enclosed space together (from this list)

BE THE CHANGE

As far as places to transform went, the closet wasn’t ideal. It was cramped and narrow and Adrien could touch both of the side walls at once with his elbows, but (as the pounding footsteps and eerie chanting outside the door were happy to remind him) it was far, far better than nothing.

“Plagg!”

“Mmmmh...”

“Plagg!”

Plagg poked his head out of Adrien’s pocket to whine, “I don’t want to...”

Adrien took a breath to remind Plagg exactly how dire their situation was right at that moment and then choked on it as something large and heavy and suspiciously human-sounding slammed into the shut door.

His palm met with Plagg’s head, forcing the kwami back into the pocket just as the door burst open.

Adrien caught a glimpse of the outline of someone that looked like Ladybug, illuminated by a flash of lightning, and then the door was slamming shut with a loud snap and Adrien had an armful of adrenaline-hot superheroine within the space of a second.

One, two, three seconds of shocked silence.

Ladybug stiffened with a swallowed scream.

“Sorry-sorry-sorry!” Adrien hissed, trying to leap back and finding he had nowhere to go, the backs of his hands hitting the cool walls with a tiny sting to his knuckles.

“N-eeep, no, no, I’m--- no-sorry,” Ladybug stammered breathlessly, pushing herself off of him and staggering back the half-step she had behind her. “I-I didn’t see--- I didn’t think---” A small break in her sputtering, one tiny inhalation, and then, “...A-Adrien?!”

“Y-yes?”

(It didn’t make his stomach flip that she’d remembered the name of his civilian identity from the two or so short times they’d met. It didn’t. Really.)

“O-oh...” Ladybug breathed, and blew out a shaky, relieved sigh. “I. Um. Didn’t think I’d find you here. It’s a-a good, um, spot though. T-to hide from the akuma.”

“Hide...? Oh! Yes! Akuma!” He felt his face burn in a mixture of panic and embarrassment as he clamped his mouth shut. Better not let anything more incriminating slip. The rumbling roar of the chant rose again outside of their shelter. “...That akuma.”

That was apparently just a little bit too much hesitation, because Ladybug said, amused and just this side of droll, “...You mean you didn’t come in here to hide?”

Whoops.

“Nnnn... Well, I mean,” Adrien stalled, rubbing the back of his head as much as the confines of the room would let him.“I-I guess I did.”

“You guess,” she echoed, just teasing enough to send a jolt of excitement down his spine. “Is there another reason you’d be in here alone, hot stuff?”

...Well, he sure could think of reasons he’d be in here, but none of them involved being alone.

In fact, most of them looked like what was happening right now, except that in his head, Ladybug was a lot more eager to be in here with him.

"...W-well, I guess not,” he allowed, pretending that he hadn’t also just spent two whole seconds short-circuiting over the words ‘hot stuff.’ “Just...”

“‘Just’?“

His face felt even hotter as he said, “Well, it’s kind of embarrassing to be caught running and hiding, you know?”

As far as excuses went, that one was terrible; Adrien better than anyone that, unless you were in desperate times, getting out of the akuma’s way (and the heroes’) and staying out was your best bet.

It was not, however, the worst excuse, because it didn’t involve ‘I just ducked in here for a second to transform into my secret superhero alter ego so I could help you defeat that thing,’ so Adrien forgave himself for the moment.

Ladybug interrupted that line of thought with a quiet, “Pffffft.”

Adrien flinched. “What?”

There was a moment where he could hear her gathering her composure, and then she said, not unkindly or unexpectedly, “Running and hiding are what me and Chat want you to do, you know. We want all of Paris’ citizens safe from akuma.”

That was her ‘Ladybug’ voice, the one she used when she needed people to really listen to her, quiet and kind and confident and firm, and Adrien, already tickled pink at the way she treated herself and Chat like a single item, had to take another moment to gather his own composure.

“I know that,” he said, too busy furiously pushing back fantasies of valiant superheroine Ladybug and distressed civilian Adrien Agreste to pay much attention to his words. “Just... you know. Getting caught is kinda... uncool, I guess.”

(Getting caught and carried to safety by Ladybug when an akuma tries to turn him into mincemeat, her arm strong around his waist and her breath hot on his face---

No.

Getting caught as she accepts his thank-you kiss and then decides to take her money’s worth, snogging him senseless and leaving him a swooning mess in some quiet hallway---

No.)

“Pfffft.”

“What?” Adrien grumbled, getting the distinct feeling he was being laughed at. Burgeoning humiliation and repressed arousal made for an... interesting combination.

“Sorry, sorry,” she said through a giggle. “It’s just... I didn’t think you cared so much about your image.”

Adrien looked away, puffing his burning cheeks. It wasn’t precisely his image he was worried about, but she wasn’t all wrong.

“No worries,” she said lightly, teasingly --- almost flirtatiously. “Your secret is safe with me.”

Adrien sank down the wall, just slightly, and wished he could sink through the floor. Kill him now. “That would... help a lot, if it wasn’t you I wanted to impress.”

Ladybug went still for only just long enough to make him wonder if he shouldn’t have said that, and then:

“You... you want to impress me?”

Squirming against the wall, Adrien mused that that voice was a large part of the reason why he did --- soft and sweet and awed because of him. “Yeah, well... I mean... You’re... you’re you. Who doesn’t want to impress you?”

“O-oh...”

She didn’t seem to have anything else to say and he couldn’t think of anything to add that wouldn’t be highly incriminating, and thus, a silence fell.

The noise outside their hideaway had dulled, the chant moved away, and Ladybug shifted, probably pressing her ear against the door.

“...Sounds like the coast is cl---...” She trailed off, and he couldn’t see the frown, but he’d watched her so much over the years he could picture it with crystal clarity. “...Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

In the distance, there was a slow, steady thump, thump, thump, near-inaudible but getting louder with every beat. It sounded like footsteps.

“...That.”

Adrien winced, remembering the four-meter-tall akuma that was out there, turning innocent people into rabid Bleus fans.

“Oh. That.”

Like football hadn’t been terrifying enough before. Adrien was going to stick with basketball, thanks.

The footsteps were getting closer.

Unnervingly close.

Heart in his mouth and blood in his ears, Adrien put himself between Ladybug and the door, heedless of the fact that without his suit he’d be a pretty bad meat-shield.

For a good five seconds, he really thought the akuma was going to burst in on them.

Five seconds of numb hands and baited breath and unnatural stillness as they both coiled themselves, ready to spring---

And then the footsteps paused.

Turned.

And then thump, thump, thumped away.

He and Ladybug exhaled as one.

“Okay,” said Adrien, removing his hands from Ladybug’s person with another flash of embarrassment, now backed with a fair amount of shame. “Now the coast is clear.”

“...Right,” Ladybug said, and then hesitated, inhaling like she was going to say something, her body heat burning through his thin clothing where she was pressed against him, from chest to knee.

She didn’t say anything for a long moment --- long enough that Adrien cleared his throat and prompted, “...What’s up?”

Another breathless pause, and then: “You know... I see you sometimes.”

Adrien blinked. “...Huh?”

“When we’re out fighting an akuma,” she clarified, sliding a hand over his heart and probably feeling it leap to attention at her touch, like every inch of his skin was currently trying to do. “When everyone’s running and panicking and...” She gave a jerky little shrug, still close enough for him to feel it. “Well, you know how akuma attacks are.”

“Y-yeah,” said Adrien, wondering if, between the two of them, they’d used up all the oxygen in the tiny space. There just didn’t seem to be any left.

“And, you know, for as many times as I’ve seen you running away...” Her fingers smoothed over the bands on his shirt. “I think I’ve seen you helping out more.”

Adrien was a little too floored at the fact that she could pick him out of a crowd to summon a coherent response.

She gave another, smaller shrug at his silence, confidential and quiet as she continued: “I mean, you direct the crowds and organize escapes and... and I know I’ve seen you go back for the people that get stuck, and you...” Her fingers curled over his chest. “You... you’re kind. Patient. Brave.”

Was this a dream? This was probably a dream.

“Me and Chat... it’s our job to protect Paris and everyone in it, you know?” She breathed a sigh, and he could hear the smile in her words, even if he couldn’t put names to the other emotions in them.“It’s not your job at all, and yet... you help anyway.”

Adrien really didn’t want to wake up.

“And, you know... that’s pretty heroic,” she whispered, a tiny hitch in her voice, squeezing his shoulder with her other hand and going up on her toes. “I think you’re pretty cool.”

This was most definitely a dream.

And then she pressed warm, soft, sweet lips to his cheek, heedless of the way it was currently trying to melt off his face.

Or set the room on fire, whichever came first.

“Thanks, hero,” she murmured as she pulled away, so grateful and affectionate he stopped breathing altogether.

She moved back, taking her body heat with her, and opened the door. He saw her smile illuminated by field lights, shy and flustered, heard her say, “Stay safe, handsome boy,” and raised his hand in farewell.

She shut the door behind her with a quiet click.

He had no idea how long he stood there, but it was, apparently, long enough to frustrate Plagg, who ended up going into the ring of his own accord for the first time since their partnership had begun.

Adrien was going to remember this dream forever.

188 notes · View notes

Really,Em?!:Sentiments Of An Unenthused“Stan”

After seeing Eminem’s“The Storm” freestyle from last week’s BET Awards cypher,I was initially tempted to respond in a video with a freestyle of my own in which I would have excoriated him for parroting the same aspersions that the biased,lying mainstream media cast upon U.S. President Donald Trump on almost a daily basis.In addition,I was going to pick apart just about everything that Em said in his freestyle as well as to take him to task for giving those that are both Trump supporters and fans of Slim Shady (such as myself) the ultimatum of choosing one over the other.But I decided that I would save my bars and instead react to“The Storm” here.

The only thing that was even cool about the freestyle was the golden cable chain that Em was wearing,which calls back to the bling of Eighties-era rappers.Otherwise,this was about as disastrous as a magnitude-eight temblor.Aside from the fact that he was regurgitating the same rhetoric that everyone on the far left side of the political spectrum does,Em’s technical form was very hit-and-miss.There were moments where Em showed flashes of vintage Shady but that was juxtaposed with forced punchlines (the whole “fantastic for”/Fantastic Four bit) and the eyebrow-raising,head-scratching attempted rhyming of“for”/”orange” and“ball up a fist”/”Donald the bitch.” I could almost picture a younger Slim Shady with arms folded and eyebrows lowered,shaking his head in disapproval of his future self’s falling below of standards.Then there were the points where Eminem sounded about as winded as a 350-pound roly-poly or three-pack-a-day smoker trying to run a 100-meter sprint as he shouted out his anti-Trump vitriol (okay,maybe dude had a chest cold or something.) Topping it all off was Em’s flipping of the bird to perhaps millions of his fans he had placed in a tough position with his “it’s either Shady or Trump!” ultimatum. This was about as lame and pathetic as Marshall Mathers had ever gotten.

In the aftermath of Hurricane Marshall,one could get the feeling that Eminem was the latest celebrity in a line of them that the far left establishment had trotted out to be a mouthpiece,perhaps figuring that they couldn’t fail this time with a middle-aged rapper that had inarguable GOAT status in hip-hop and was incidentally Caucasian.And,seeing that Em has a new album coming out next month,doubling down on political rhetoric that he gave us glimpses of on songs like“Mosh” off his 2004 Encore CD could a great way of promoting his upcoming record in advance.It’s actually kind of surprising that Eminem would hop aboard the anti-Trump train when there’s a huge commonality between the legendary rapper and“The Don.” Both of these individuals have had no qualms with using their freedom of speech to say things that poke some beehive or wasp’s nest.Eminem certainly knows what it’s like to be“protested and demonstrated against” and to be labeled as misogynistic and homophobic (as well as perhaps a racist when a rap that he’d recorded about a black girl he had been involved with once upon a time was leaked.) The only difference between Eminem and Donald Trump is that the latter doesn’t talk about things that people “joke with their friends inside their living room” about or say things with no other purpose than to make people mad.Trump puts people off with his unfiltered statements that accurately reflect what a lot of Americans think and feel but have been made afraid to say due to the societal scourge that is political correctness.What underlies the hatred for Trump is not that he’s a “racist,” a“bigot,” or a“sexist,” but rather that he’s an enemy of globalism and cultural Marxism..ERR!..”progressive values.” From the looks of it,Eminem has decided to become at least somewhat P.C. and“The Storm” freestyle smacks of hip-hop’s biggest ever troll/villain saddling up on a high horse.It’s a horse upon which he has no business being.

I know that it’s unfair to make someone a prisoner of their own history and it’s unreasonable to think that a person can’t (or shouldn’t)change over time.But is it right for Eminem to speak of “gun reform in Nevada”-in response to the recent mass shooting in Las Vegas-when he has had run-ins with the law for firearms? Does anyone think that Em doesn’t own a gun himself,that he doesn’t have armed guards,or that the guys standing behind him during his freestyle weren’t packing? Is it meritorious to allege Donald Trump of“tormenting” Hillary Clinton (pffffft!) when Em has tormented his ex-wife and mother via his music? While Eminem was perhaps at his finest and most entertaining when he allowed his Slim Shady alter ego to be as rancid and rancorous as possible,he put himself in position of looking like a hypocrite if he ever turned over a new leaf and assumed some kind of moral high ground.Like it or not,fair or unfair,he’s going to get called out for it.Perhaps especially so by those within his fan base that he alienated by his drawing of“the line in the sand” and his subsequent“fuck you very much.”

To those that feel that Eminem was making“statements of fact” or speaking“the truth,” they’ll see a nobility in his risking of losing Stans to make a stand.To those that Eminem gave the middle finger too,we see it as a selling-out or a betrayal.Why shouldn’t we? Many of us were responsible for making him a multi-millionaire rap artist.He wouldn’t have many of the accolades that he does without us.We loved him when he was the most hated rapper on the planet.We warmly embraced him back in the rap game after he retired and kicked his pill addiction.If we’re no longer good enough to be his fans as a result of supporting the current leader of the free world,we were never good enough to begin with.It’s not like we will ever be refunded of every dollar and cent that we invested in his product,though. Speaking as an artist myself,it should be immaterial to Eminem what the political leanings are of those that butter his bread.Being monetarily compensated for the art one creates is a business transaction.It comes across as dictatorial and childish to tell your clients that you don’t want their business if they support the POTUS.It’s like seeing a kid telling one of their friends that they’re not going to be their friend anymore if they’re going to be coolwith another kid that the one having the tantrum doesn’t like.Difference is that Em’s a grown-ass man that’s almost halfway to 50 and he’s not in the playground but in the music business.Henceforth,his immaturity is going to be costly.I have a hunch that this will be the end of the road for Eminem’s rap career and we can cite“The Storm” freestyle as a catalyst for Em’s last hurrah.Unless he reveals that this was an epic Shady-esque troll job and that he had to add a percentage of his Stan baseto the number of people that he’s pissed off over the years,it’s sad that things ended this way.He could’ve left it alone and not get in the way of those that want to be both fans of his and supporters of Donald J.Trump.

I could always end this entry by calling for a boycott of Eminem’s new album.But I’ve got something better.I am imploring those Stans that were given the bird by Em to acquire his next record.However,don’t pay a red cent for the thing.Find a good torrent site on the Interweb,download it,and enjoy Em’s new joint on the house.If we could somehow make this a trend on Twitter that could get Em’s attention and make him mad,he can #KissOurWhiteNakedAss. (#TrollingEminem or #DearSlim could work as a hashtag as well.)

0 notes