#“We lived together for some years and I think we most fully understood each other when once I tried to kill him with a kitchen knife”

[orimuraa]

⋯⋅๑┈·✦ The perfect pair - OT7

꒰ 𝔖𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴 ꒱┆enhypen as your soulmate ⨾

۶ৎ ot7!enhypen x fem!reader ┆ fluff ┆ soulmate au┆petnames┆ wc 814

⤷ 𝐲𝐞𝐣𝐢’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: double update??? woahhhh!!! i was feeling really inspired by the song "the perfect pair" by beabadoobee and wanted to write a soulmate au today! if you enjoyed, please like, reblog, and send feedback >o< i appreciate it so much <3

꒰ঌ ℬℴℴ𝓀𝓈𝒽ℯ𝓁𝒻 ໒꒱

𝑳𝒆𝒆 𝑯𝒆𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒖𝒏𝒈 - 이희승

you and heeseung had always had a special spark with each other. but on your 18th birthday, your soulmate was revealed to you. that's when you fully understood why you and heeseung had just instantly clicked all those years ago. you were soulmates. in some past life, you two were crazy in love, and you hoped that in this life, you could fall in love again. your fate was tied to his and there was no changing that. but you loved him, he was your everything. "i couldn't ever dream of anyone else being my soulmate except for you angel. i love you so much," the two of you sat under the stars, hands clasped together. "let's spend another lifetime together, yeah?"

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑱𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒈 - 박종성

jay was perfect. he understood you like no one else did and he was so patient with you, even when you were at your lowest. no one could ever compare to him. because he was the one. your soulmate. the one you had spent lifetimes with and the one who had stuck by your side for an eternity. that's why he one of a kind. there was no one else that you spent literal lifetimes with other than jay. "jongie? do you think we'll spend the next lifetime together?" you asked one night. "baby, i can't imagine spending my next lifetime with anyone else. you're stuck with me forever!" he laughed. it was true, you two were bounded together by the red string of fate.

𝑺𝒊𝒎 𝑱𝒂𝒆𝒚𝒖𝒏 - 심재윤

jake had just moved from australia yet you felt like you've know him your whole life. he instantly clicked with you and was literally your other half. no one had ever understood you like jake had and it wasn't until 6 months into your friendship that you realized why. he was your soulmate. the one was the one for you. no one else would ever be as perfect as him because you and him were fated. "sweets, thank you for being my soulmate. no one can ever match up to you," jake smiled, admiring your features. "jakey, i can't imagine having to live without you as my soulmate. i love you jakey," the connection you shared with jake was one of a kind. irreplaceable.

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒏 - 박성훈

the way you immediately knew sunghoon was your soulmate was the connection you felt with him. there was something about being around him and always feeling so safe and comforted. sunghoon gave you a feeling of comfort that nobody has before. the way your hand fit perfectly in his or the way you two shared the same thoughts, it was obvious that you were made for each other. "hoonie? do you think we were lovers in our past lives?" your curiosity getting the better of you. "princess, i know we were soulmates since the beginning of time," and right he was.

𝑲𝒊𝒎 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒐𝒐 - 김선우

once a person turns 16, the name of their soulmate is revealed to them. and since sunoo was a couple months older than you, he got his soulmate first. the two of you were practically already soulmates with the way you were always together and always in sync with each other. sunoo had never hid anything from you until now. he refused to tell you the name of his soulmate and you never understood why until your birthday. the moment you turned 16, there it was, the name written right under your palm: kim sunoo. "sun? you were my soulmate??" "surprise?..."

𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝑱𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒘𝒐𝒏 - 양정원

you and jungwon were most definitely soulmates and everyone could see it. the way you two were always with the other and literally inseparable just added to the evidence. you and jungwon talked about the random memories you had of each other, most likely from past lives together. there was no official way of knowing if someone was your soulmate, but you were so sure that you were. everything you did with jungwon felt like a repetition in a good way. everything felt so familiar and you loved that. no one else got you like jungwon did. all those lifetimes together really do pay off.

𝑵𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒎𝒖𝒓𝒂 𝑹𝒊𝒌𝒊 - 西村 力

riki grew up around the stories of soulmates. japan was big on it and he always dreamed of finding his soulmate. on the day he turned 16, a red string appeared on his left pinky finger. it led him all the way to you. soulmates are believed to have spent all of their past lives with each other and have a one of a kind connection with each other. the string was a symbol of how your love was meant to be and was destined. riki absolutely adored you and he couldn't think of any other person to share his fate with. everyone in his family had a string and when he was younger, he was always so envious of them. but now he had one of his own, connected to the love of his life.

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨��𝐤𝐬: @en-diaries, @k-films, @k-nets

⚘. Perm taglist: @vmpivory, @yuvany, @seozii, @pinknjm, @greentulip, @jomisu, @nxzz-skz, @ancnymcnzjy

[katsu28]

can I request “Baby’s Breath - a wholesome moment” with our favorite grump remus? maybe just some domestic fluff?

i've been delving deeper into my marauders phase lately so thank you so much for this request <3 he's not too much of a grump in this one but i can give u soft bf remus today i hope that's okay

remus lupin x reader, 1k, fluff fluff and more fluff

Remus never thought he’d ever have a life like he had now. He’d always thought he was destined to live a life of solitude, a life where nothing good and nothing pure ever dared come his way. Sure, he had his best mates and they were more than he could ever ask for, but he wanted…more.

He always felt a tiny gnaw in his gut thinking about Lily and James, Marlene and Dorcas—they were happy, they were as infatuated with each other as the day they met. He didn’t resent them, he wasn’t jealous of them, but he wanted what they had. He wanted a love as strong as theirs with someone of his own. 

Never in a million years did he think he’d get the chance to have something like that. 

Then you came along, and you were good and pure and about a hundred other things Remus adored. You were kind and caring and made his heart thump a little faster and a little harder against his ribcage. It took a bit of time for him to fully let you in, to fully trust you with everything he had, but you were patient with him. 

From there, being with you was something straight out of his fantasies. You had your ups and downs like every healthy couple, but you always talked it out like the mature young adults you were and made up quick.

He now understood what it felt like to love someone more than life itself, to love another person so much that he couldn’t imagine a world without you in it.

Fast forward to present day, you and Remus had recently moved in with each other. It was nothing special, just a small flat in central London—but it was special to Remus. It was where you’d begun the rest of your life together only a few months ago, tiny (some would call it cramped, but you and Remus didn't think so) and a little bit weathered, but it was yours. It was home. 

There were still a few half unpacked boxes laying around, but for the most part you’d settled in nicely. With that new home came a new routine too, with Remus juggling his jobs at the old secondhand bookshop down the road and handling the finances at Sirius’s auto garage. He came home late sometimes, exhausted and smelling of motor oil despite being cooped up in the back office all day. 

“Rem!” You greeted him happily like you always when he stepped through the door, making your way over to where he was hanging his scarf on the coat hooks to hug him tightly.

It was always the highlight of his day, getting to come to you. His bones ached and he felt sticky and grimy, but then you kissed him and it suddenly didn’t feel like the worst thing in the world. 

“Hi, love,” He replied softly, sinking into your embrace with closed eyes.  

Your fingers curled into the hair at the nape of his neck, scratching gentle circles that had him melting just a little bit more. “How was your day?” 

“Same as always. Paperwork, paperwork, more paperwork.” He pulled away from you, lacing his fingers through yours to tug you along behind him into the kitchen. “James brought by some Peruvian takeaway for lunch though, really good stuff—we should try it one day, I think you’d like it.”

“Oh! That reminds me, Lily rang earlier, asked if we had any time tomorrow to pop by theirs for something? She wouldn’t say what but I think she’s pregnant.” 

Remus chuckled, amused. “What makes you say that?” 

“Sirius said he could smell something different about her.” 

“And you trusted him? He’s a knob.” 

“He’s your best friend.” 

“Still a knob.” He replied, pulling open the cupboard to grab a mug. “Tea?” He grabbed another one at your eager nod, busying himself with filling the kettle and setting it on the stove to boil. 

You’d moved to the countertop in the meantime, socked feet swinging, thumping against the cupboards below with each movement. You were smiling warmly at him when he turned back to face you, watching him shuffle around the tiny kitchen like you’d never seen anything more interesting. 

“What?” 

“Nothing.” He arched a brow at you. “Nothing, I’m just…really happy. Here. With you. In our own home.” 

Remus brightened noticeably, coming over to run a light hand down your arm until your fingers were intertwined. He brought it up to his lips and kissed your knuckles. “It’s nice, innit?” 

“Everything’s nice with you.” You were quite aware of how sappy you sounded, but it was true. Just existing in the same space as Remus, sharing a space with him, was so lovely and comforting and everything you'd ever wanted. You traced along the scar bridging his nose, following it down his cheek until your arms found their home looped around his neck and you pulled him in even closer, kissing him softly. 

He wasted no time kissing you back. He never did. Remus loved kissing you more than he loved a lot of things in this world, and he made sure you knew it with every single one. 

Somewhere in the background you heard the kettle whistling over on the stove, but you didn’t really feel the need to pay it any mind. Not when he was kissing you like this, like he wanted to get lost in your touch, like he always did. It wasn’t until it started to annoy you that you splayed your palms against the soft wool of his jumper. 

“You better get the kettle before it boils over.” You murmured against his mouth, barely giving him an inch of space between the two of you. 

Letting out a gentle huff, Remus fumbled for his wand in the pocket of his trousers, pulling it out and mumbling an incantation under his breath with the flick of his wrist. The kettle fell silent. “Right, now where were we?” 

“Pretty sure your mouth was on mine.” 

“Ah yes, how could I ever forget?”

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[thestarlightforge]

Because this “Agatha All Along” thought almost made me burst into tears in the middle of minding my own business, washing dishes and listening to Lorna Wu’s cut of “Ballad,” I’m inflicting it on all of you—

If I can’t hold you…

Remember what I told you…

Now that the sigil is lifted (and the rest of whatever WandaVision memories may have muddled in his mind likely restored), what if this is one of the final episodes’ titles?

This—Billy reciting/remembering this, and casting his first Wish spell in the MCU at the end of the Road to get his family back—intercut with the last (or some similarly sweet) conversation between Agatha, Rio and Nicky?

Imagine: They’re all standing there, after the last Trial, and nobody’s hurt, they beat it—but nothing’s happening. They start getting mad at each other, screaming about WandaVision & Salem & the Darkhold & Sharon & the sacrifices & Alice… He’s sorting through the lyrics, the different lyrics, and it hits him.

Billy: “If I can’t hold you, remember what I told you… It’s the only way we survive.”

Agatha: Lorna was a pop rocker. That’s not even in the Ballad. And you don’t remember shit, do you? William? Billy?

Billy: “You know, a family is forever.”

Agatha turns, curious.

Billy: “We could never truly leave each other, even if we tried.”

Tears well in Billy’s eyes, remembering how Wanda turned to Tommy—how knowing his lack of mind-based powers, she wouldn’t leave until he had understood.

Billy: “You know that, right?”

Rio looks on solemnly, having witnessed this moment in waiting to take the twins to the beyond.

Billy: “Boys?”

Billy barely chokes it out.

Billy: “Thanks for choosing me to be your mom.”

Rio and Agatha’s eyes meet. And they’re young women, playing with Nicky in Salem, 400 years ago.

Billy: “Goodnight, Tommy.”

A stream of flashes: Wanda and Vision and Billy and Tommy—Agatha and Rio and Nicky.

Billy: “Goodnight, Billy.”

Wanda and Vision hugging the boys, Billy and Tommy playing—Agatha watching while Rio tosses Nicky in the air, both of them cackling like mad. Wanda and Vision kissing. Rio and Agatha kissing. All of them happy. Together.

Back to the present. No dry eyes left in the room. Billy’s power warbles as the Road unlocks.

Billy: I’m not missing power, or magic, or memories. I miss them. They are what I’m missing. And I wish… I could have them back.

Maybe he thinks it doesn’t work. Maybe they don’t all appear. But there’s a crackling burst of blue magic, and the Road is done. Because the actual most famous Witch to walk the Road—perhaps who it was created by, even—is not Agatha Harkness, even if she is its only living survivor. And perhaps Agatha even knows this—met this Witch 400+ years ago. The real person the Road is for is the ancient, ancestral, legendary Scarlet Witch. Not Wanda Maximoff—but an earlier incarnation. So of course, it is her most modern incarnation’s words—Wanda’s last to her sons, including this warrior boy who has survived all seven Trials—that unlocks the road’s ending.

Then, we cut away in an end credit sequence to each of Billy’s missing, wished people who we don’t see here—Wanda and Tommy resurrecting across the world, and White Vision fully unlocking Hex Vision’s memories (where previously he may have just had everything through “Infinity War”).

[petersasteria]

we can't be friends - evan peters

Pairing: Evan Peters x Famous!Fem!Reader

Warning/s: curse words, cheating, italicized parts are flashbacks

Summary: After years of having the same problems and dating on and off, Evan finally had enough.

A/N: I got inspired by @quicksilversg1rl and @evan4ever bc i got obsessed with their writing 😫😫😫

You sat on the floor looking around your shared room with Evan with tears streaming down your face. Clothes, pillows, and blankets were scattered everywhere. Your favorite vase fell and broke into a million pieces. In your hand was a picture frame with yours and Evan’s first ever photo. You sniffed and smiled through the tears. You and Evan just met when that picture was taken. At that time, you knew he was the one for you; you knew he was the one you wanted to be with for the rest of your life.

The universe had other plans, though.

You heard footsteps and a knock on the door. You didn’t have the energy to get up. The door creaked open and you looked up to see Evan looking at you with a defeated expression.

“We can’t go on like this anymore, Y/N.” Evan whispered, sniffling. Unbeknownst to you, he had been crying in the living room. It pained him to see you hurting and it pained him knowing that you’re both hurting each other. “We’re both tired.” He said, as a tear rolled down his cheek.

You fully turned to face him and said, “Is this it? Is this final?”

He nodded, “I’m afraid so.”

You both stared at each other longingly and lovingly. Both of you didn’t know what to feel. You felt angry, sad, hurt, and most of all, you felt betrayed.

“I hate you. Evan.”

“I hate you too, Y/N.” He replied, leaning on the doorframe with his hands in his pockets. “But I love you so much. I can’t place how I feel about you.”

“Well, looks like we’re on the same boat.” You glanced at the picture in your hands and smiled a bittersweet smile, “I knew you were my soulmate in this picture and exactly a year after this photo was taken, you told me that if we both win an Oscar on our 10th year together, you’d propose.”

“Yeah.” He chuckled lightly. “Even if we didn’t win, I would still propose. I knew, the first time I met you, that you were it for me. I think you still are, and I think you’ll always be.”

You looked at him with sad eyes. He looked at you with the same expression and said, “It just fucking sucks that for some reason, we can’t work out and it’s tiring, truly.”

Evan walked in your shared apartment and slammed the door. You were on the couch, reading a book as research for a character you’re going to play in a new movie. You looked up and saw Evan walking up to you. You put a bookmark on the page you’re on before closing it and giving your full attention to an angry looking Evan.

“Who is he, and when were you planning to tell me that I’m being replaced?” Evan asked harshly.

“What the hell are you talking about?” You asked, confused.

“It’s all over the internet, Y/N! You’re on your phone 24/7. Surely, you know what’s going on!” Evan said in a tone that you couldn’t quite place.

“Just fucking tell me!” You said.

“You were out with some curly-haired dude and you were having lunch with him somewhere. You even hugged!” Evan said loudly.

You finally understood what he was talking about. “That’s not some random dude! That’s literally Timothee Chalamet, a.k.a my new co-star! We were just getting to know each other!” You explained, standing up from the couch and walking over to a stressed Evan.

“You’ve been doing this over and over! You meet up with some guy, have lunch, and then God knows what happens next!”

“What happens next is I go home to you fuming at me for no fucking reason!” You shouted. “You shouldn’t be bothered with who I’m going to be in a movie with because I was supportive when you were still being paired with Emma!”

“Oh, don’t go there. It’s not the same!”

“It is! It literally is! You’re spewing nonsense!” You chuckled dryly.

“If you want to see that Timothee guy so much, why don’t you just end it?!”

“Evan, he’s no one! He’s literally seeing someone else.” You explained.

“This is how you repay me after I worked hard for you? I basically made you, y’know?” Evan bragged. Your jaw dropped. How could he say that?

“Honey, I made myself. I worked hard for everything that I have now. You just helped me in the beginning because you said you wanted to. I don’t owe you anything, Evan!” You said.

“Fine, but I still helped you a fuck ton! Also, you DO owe me something. You owe me an apology for cheating on me!” Evan shouted. “Do you know how fucking hurt I was?”

“I didn’t cheat on you, Evan! It was a misunderstanding!” You told him. “He was nothing but a friend!”

Evan rolled his eyes, “Oh, that’s what all cheaters say, Y/N!”

You looked at him in disbelief. How could he believe the tabloids like that? He didn’t understand, or at least tried to. You were brought back to reality when Evan said something you didn’t quite hear. 

“What did you say?” You asked.

“I said, you did this once before. Not to me, but to your ex. You told me you two were broken up, remember? Then I found out the following week that you were, in fact, still very much together and let me guess, you told him that we were friends too, huh? You’re a lying, two-timing, bitch, Y/N. Don’t try to manipulate me because I know the truth.” Evan said. His eyes were dark and lifeless. It made sense. After all, how could his eyes have life anymore after what your relationship has been through?

You stayed quiet. You didn’t want to add fuel to the fire. Evan sighed loudly, tired from the constant bickering. He looked down, put his hands on his hips and said, “Timothee’s your new co-star?”

“Yeah.” You answered. “So what? That’s all there is between us! It’s just work, E.”

He chuckled dryly before looking up at you, “I was your co-star once. Funny, because you seem to have a routine. You have a new male co-star while you’re in a relationship, then you two-time, breakup with the previous guy, and then continue to date the new guy like nothing happened. Then you tell everyone that it’s all a misunderstanding when in reality, you just like to hop from one relationship to another.”

“That’s not true.”

“Oh, it is.” He smiled bitterly before sitting down on the couch and burying his face in his hands. “I’m tired. I’m so tired of your shit.” He whispered. “This relationship is bullshit!” He yelled and pushed away all the things from the coffee table in one swipe before flipping the actual table.

You were in shock. You didn’t know he was capable of doing that. Your heart broke and ached when you heard him crying. You started crying too. You hated seeing him like this. He looked up at you and said, “I love you, but I fucking hate you.”

“I’m not stupid, Y/N. I know that you and your team make me out to be the bad guy; the reason why you and your ex broke up. You keep painting this bad picture of me and congratu-fucking-lations because it’s working! People ACTUALLY believe that shit you’re saying about me!”

“You tell them that I’m a bad boyfriend or that I chased after you knowing you were in a relationship. We both know that’s bullshit and I don’t know why you keep doing that while you keep coming back to me like you’ve done nothing wrong! I don’t get it, Y/N! Let’s just end this, please!”

The tension was thick. You didn’t know what to do or what to say.

“We’ve been breaking up and getting back together since 2015! You tell everyone that you’re sick of me because I’m ‘toxic’, but you love me again after every failed date with a famous actor. So much has happened that nothing can fix us anymore.” Evan said sadly. “We’ve been on and off for 9 years and I think it’s time for me to choose myself. I need that; you need that.”

You walked out and ran to your shared room, slamming the door. You didn’t know what came over you. Whatever you saw, you threw it across the room

That’s how you ended up in your current state. You hated fighting with Evan, but he was right. It’s time to end your relationship.

“I love you with everything in me, Evan.”

“If you love me as you say you do, promise me that you won’t say stuff about me to the media. You’ve already tarnished my name, don’t drag it along the muck and the mud. If you love me, you’ll respect that.” Evan pleaded. “I’ve never said anything about you, have I? I kept all your secrets and I kept all my emotions bottled up just so you could keep the name I helped you build.”

“I promise.” You said. He had endured so much. You didn’t want him to go through it all again. “I love you, Evan.” You repeated. He gave you a tight-lipped smile, “I love you too. You’ll always have a special place in my heart.”

Both of you decided to move out a week later, neither of you wanted to stay at the once shared apartment, afraid of the ghosts of your past coming to haunt you every night. You stayed in the same city, in the same area. Oftentimes, you found yourself driving to the old apartment just to stare at it longingly before driving away.

As for Evan, you didn’t know where he moved away to. He never told you where he lived, but you hoped he was living a quiet and peaceful life. He deserved it after dealing with a chaos like you.

You never saw him again. Not at award shows, not at after parties, and not at random get-togethers with mutual friends. You heard that he hasn’t contacted anyone in your circle of friends. Eventually, you moved on and dated Timothee Chalamet. Evan was right. Maybe you did have a routine, you just weren’t aware.

A year passed and still, no one has heard from him, so it surprised you to see his name on the list of nominees for Best Actor at the Oscars. You didn’t know he filmed a movie. He just went AWOL and came back like nothing happened.

At the Oscars, you sat on the section next to Evan’s, but you were one row behind. You caught a glimpse of him, smiling at other A-list celebrities before sitting down. The whole time you felt like you were in limbo until you heard that it was time to announce the winner for the Best Actor category. You were on the edge of your seat as you watched the presenter announce who the winner was.

Timothee, who sat next to you, silently prayed while keeping his cool. He knew cameras were everywhere and it made him anxious.

“And the Academy Award for Best Actor goes to… Evan Peters!” The presenter smiled.

Evan was shocked. He didn’t expect to win. He stood up, shook hands with his co-stars, and walked up on stage. Timothee was devastated, but he smiled, nonetheless. Evan thanked the presenter before receiving the award.

“Wow.” Evan said with a smile before looking down at the shiny, gold award. “I’ve dreamt about this for so long and now that it’s finally happening, I don’t know what to say.”

Your heart soared. He was still the same Evan you once knew and loved, yet something felt different about him. He was like a stranger, but he wasn’t.

He looked ahead and met your eyes. He gave you a curt smile before thanking every single person he wanted to thank.

“I want to thank the entire cast and crew. Without you guys, there’d be no movie to film. Thank you to the amazing casting director who believed in me and I share this award with you because you’re the one who picked me out of hundreds of better actors. Thank you to my family who has been supportive since day one and thank you to the undying support of my loving fans. You guys are the reason I’m still here. The last few years have been really hard for me, especially last year, but I’m very happy to say that no matter what hardship you’re going through, good karma is on its way to hit you. Again, thank you!” Evan smiled and walked off stage.

Everyone clapped and the same presenter announced the nominees for your category, Best Actress. You were extremely nervous. Win or lose, you knew you did a great job. Timothee held your hand and squeezed it lightly before giving it a kiss when your name was announced as a nominee right after Jennifer Lawrence. “And the Academy Award for Best Actress goes to… Y/N Y/L/N!”

Your jaw dropped and Timothee cheered the loudest. He stood up and he helped you up before pulling you in for a hug. “Congratulations, mon amour!” Timothee smiled before kissing your cheek.

You thanked him before walking to the stage. You thanked the presenter as they handed you the award. You glanced at Evan and he gave you a small smile. You held his gaze for a few seconds before starting your speech.

“There’s so many people to thank, but there’s so little time.” You chuckled lightly. “Thank you to the Academy, thank you to the cast and crew, thank you to my family and friends who have been supporting me since forever! My fans! Oh god, my loving fans! Thank you for your unwavering support. Timmy, my love, thank you for sticking with me during tough times. Lastly, I just want to say a quick shoutout and a quick thank you to Evan. I wouldn’t be here without you and I kinda owe you a lot and words of thanks are not enough, but I hope it’s a start. Thank you, truly.”

Evan didn’t expect that. He didn’t expect anything at all. He just wanted peace and now he felt like the world was watching him again through your point of view. He didn’t want the attention. He thought the attention was unnecessary. Now he knew for sure that people would talk about it on social media. 

The after party was a blast and everyone was busy dancing, talking, and having fun. Evan was minding his own business like usual and you didn’t know if you should approach or not. As you stood up, you were whisked away by Timothee, who wanted to introduce you to Zendaya and Tom Holland. You smiled at him before glancing back at Evan. As if he knew you were watching, he looked up from his phone and glanced at you. He gave you a tight-lipped smile and he raised his glass before paying attention to his phone once more. It was at that moment you knew that you and Evan won’t get back together and won’t even be friends. You looked away from him and never looked back.

----

A/N: This is my first Evan fic sksksks I have another one in store

[locustheologicus]

The Legacy of Ana Gonzalez

I have been on a cerebral kick lately contemplating ethics and social ministry but this weekend I felt like taking a break from that and going on a personal reflection. On March 14, 2014 my grandmother passed away. I grew up in a household where I was the only child but my grandmother Ana was with us the entire time so I grew up in a household of four. At the time she passed away I was learning about Latino/a theology so I took the time back then to reflect on her wisdom then in this other post. She passed away ten years ago and now that the year is almost over I find myself thinking about who she was and what she meant to me.

Of all the people in my family I was probably with her the most yet knew her the least. She never really talk much about her past, her family, her beliefs, hardly anything. I remember her being a very kind and loving person, while my parents where at work she was the one who took care of me and tended to me as a child. I recall taking long walks with her when I was very young in New Rochelle and then watching a few TV programs together after we moved to Endicott (three's company stand out as a show that she enjoyed watching with me in the early 1980's). I fondly remember how she would always wake me up with an herbal tea she would make almost every morning. Beyond these moments however there was little interaction between us.

As I became a teenager I felt that she was a staunch ally of my father (who I was struggled with at that age). My father attempted to limit many of my actions and freedoms because he percieved them as misdeeds. If I was not doing assignments that he gave me or schoolwork I must be doing some mischief. I felt betrayed by my grandmother at that age because I became aware that she would report any actions or freedoms to my father when he was not around. My ally became my own mother who defended me from my father, this set up a dysfunctioning household where the two men struggled to culturally define who we were and the mothers would back up their own son. This was the life that defined us until I left for college and eventually (when I realized that the household was dysfunctional in this way) I uprooted and left for Chicago to become a Franciscan volunteer and discern religious life. I would learn decades later that neither of my parents understood what I was doing and they both blamed each other for my departure. In the meantime my Grandmother would be found doing simple things like tending to her garde which she seemed to enjoy doing.

My grandmother was a simple and faith filled person. My initial post shares some of her religious wisdom. But she seemed to keep much to herself and the past always remaind hidden. She had a picture of my grandfather in her room next to the bible and cross she always kept but she never really talked about him. She would join us in whatever outings we had and would enjoy whatever activity she could but as I grew older I felt that there was a great amount of hidden depth that she choose not to reveal.

I wrote about my grandfather in a former post and much of that information I was able to get from the uncles and aunts I had from his first marriage. It seemed that my grandfather never loved my grandmother in the same way he loved his first wife and it also felt that the children of the first marriage never quite fully accepted my grandmother and the children she bore him which includes my Father, my aunt Victoria who lives in Boston and my aunt Cecilia who apperently did not like my grandmother and left for Venezuela at an early age, I never knew her but evidently she still lives.

The most I could get from my grandmother was that she worked in some bodega in Soacha Colombia, a bodega my grandfather would frequent. She came from a very poor family and I believe she was never literate or educated. From what I understand, my grandfather was open to marrying her in order to have someone take care of the younger children so for him this was a marriage of convenience. By the time she got to know him he had spiraled downward and the few stories I heard from her was that he was a stern man who enjoyed going to the bar but was livid if anyone bothered him. I do not get the sense of a loving relationship from her, what is curious is that it seems that her daughters felt closer to their father (my grandfather) than to her. My father would attest to my grandfather being a stern and strict man but he had some positive memories as well which again, my grandmother never shared.

And yet, she was always present. She may not have added her narrative to our family (which I think is a shame) but she was always present in the moment as we grew and celebrated together. As I may have mentioned before, my parents were immigrant anchors for members of their family and this included my aunt Victoria (see here with her future husband Jerry) and my grand uncle Luis who is seen here standing with me and my grandmother.

One revealing lesson I did receive from my grandmother was when my parents went through a phase of arguing and fighting. I was in elementary school and at that time it made me feel very sad and depressed. My grandmother revealed to me that when she was a little girl she suffered great anxieties when her family yelled and fought. She would then tell me that she copped with it by running outside the house until they stopped fighting, and then everything would be fine. I remember thinking that was odd and I never ended up taking her advice. I needed to process why people fought and what the issue was. I would eventually realize that the biggest issue my family had was that no one listened to each other. As I grew older and observed how they argued I realized that each person would argue from their own position alone and sometimes what my father was yelling about had nothing to do with what my mother’s issue. It felt like running around in circles was how they all copped with their feelings which did not strike me as very healthy.

The deeper I dug the more I felt felt conflicted with my grandmother’s identity. As a child I exerienced my grandmother as a loving and caring person but as a teen I realized her devotion to my father was based on how dependent she was to him. I thought this may have caused some of the unease she had with her other children. As for that devotion, I think it might have come from some deep insecurity. My grandmother did not seem to have the capacity for personal security so she may have latched on to whoever she felt would provide her with the security and stability she was not capable of attaining on her own. In many ways she lived a very comfortable life in my father's household. When I became a young adult I saw that my mother struggled to not have a one on one relationship with my father because my grandmother was always at his side (when he wasn't working or playing tennis). During this time we tried to get her to spend some time with my Aunt in Boston who was raising my cousin. My grandmother would cry and beg not to go and my father was also eager to have her brought back.

In some ways I feel that my grandmother was a lost soul. I am curious to know what it must have been for her before marrying my grandfather but once she was married I think she lived a dependant life, first with my grandfather and then with my father. From 2010 on it was apparent how co-dependant my father and her were, as my grandmother got feeble so to did my father who developed parkinsons/dementia. Both my mom and I knew that was my grandmother would pass away my father would not last. Sure enough, he died within a year of her passing.

I wish I knew more, I wish she was able to share the struggles that she went through. My grandmother was deeply religious but her spirituality was a passive one. For her any form of suffering or struggle was something you offer up to God and then kept as a secret that needed to be erased. Towards the end of her life she was tormented by two imaginary small children that seemed to tease her. She would complain about almost falling and when I asked about it she mentioned that these two mischievious children were teasing her and trying to trip her up. We had no idea what she was on about or what this meant. It was later suggested that she had more then the three children I knew. It appears that she had two other children who were either sickly or became sick. It is unclear what became of them. It sounds like these children may have died but it is also suggested that they were abandoned.

We live is such a different time and cultural context that it is shocking to think what terrible decisions people in poverty have to make. I personally believe that struggles cannot be thought of as a personal or family embarrassment that needs to be kept a secret. We need to learn and appreciate the struggles and difficulties of our lives in order to appreciate what others go through. It is because of this that I work to assist marginalized migrant communities who struggle to achieve their own security and stability in this world. I dedicate some of my work to her memory and to the memory of what she went through. My grandmother may have kept her secret with her, but I will make it a point to reconcile my grandmother’s struggles through the struggles of those I serve. May these familes and my grandmother find some kind of peace, either in this world or the next.

[clfixationstation]

all of this. yes.

my only thought is that because straight ships are seen as "normal", Isayama (and many other writers) assume that audiences require less convincing to get behind them and find them believable. Which isn't entirely untrue - there are many m/f ships out there that I've seen straight fans get behind with the bare minimum (from people I've talked to in-person, not just online speculation).

the next assumption writers could be making is that straight couples don't require a high level of understanding and companionship. From my observations, it's unfortunately the case that it's not always expected in straight relationships what do you mean your boyfriend doesn't think you should have rights?? doesn't see you as a full person?? and you still want to marry him???!? girl RUN. It's often (subconsciously) based on the bioessentialist idea that men and women are very different beings with different roles to fulfill, and therefore can never fully understand each other (ugh).

that's why "our worldviews directly conflict and we can't fully understand each other, but we're still drawn together by love and that in itself is an understanding" just isn't compelling to me personally. I've seen it with many canon straight ships in many stories over the years. (to be clear, I am not accusing people who enjoy such ships of being bioessentialist - I do not know the mind of every person)

and then there's yumihisu. Ymir was immediately drawn to Historia because she saw her past self in her, and was determined to empower Historia to live for herself with pride. After a lonely childhood, Historia welcomed Ymir's company and understood that Ymir's abrasive comments betrayed her good heart. Even with the secrets between them, Ymir and Historia had this deep understanding of each other and offered each other compassion and companionship.

and for some of the other ships mentioned in the tags:

1) I didn't pay much attention to reibert, but wdym reiner "having no interest in women" went nowhere?? like?? and Bertholdt liking Annie out of nowhere was kinda funny. 2) kenuri is kind of just. uncontested canon. 3) I never expected eremin to be canon, but the level of understanding and reverence they hold for each other is unparalleled. 4) I actually love aruani, and that's primarily because their relationship is based in understanding and appreciating each other's perspectives; seeing positive qualities in each other that others could not. It could've used more time to cook, but that's my only criticism

#like why did eremin parallel yumihisu and reibert. while eremika was CANONICALLY framed as a parallel to the most toxic horrific relationship

THIS TAG. This is the one that gets me. eremika paralleled Ymir and King Fritz; Mikasa's love bound her to Eren the same way Ymir's love bound her to Fritz. However, Mikasa was able to free herself from the bindings of her love and act for the greater good. By killing Eren, Mikasa freed herself and Ymir. Acting despite all the love she has for Eren, refusing to allow her love to keep her bound - that is what frees Ymir

now, obviously Eren did not treat Mikasa anywhere as badly as Fritz did Ymir. Eren being an ass is NOT equivalent to Fritz's abuse. It's just. That parallel does not indicate to me that eremika is, or could be, a positive relationship. Conversely, I think some people interpret it as eremika's pure and good love showing Ymir what love should be like, in contrast to her relationship to Fritz. While that's a sweet interpretation, I have a difficult time agreeing. Mikasa spent the entire series chasing after Eren, desperately trying to keep her last piece of family alive, living in a perpetual heartache. Eren, on the other hand, hid and stifled his feelings for Mikasa until the end. Where Mikasa always desires to return home, Eren will always run forward towards "freedom". To me, the point of eremika is that it's doomed. It represents the beauty and cruelty that exist simultaneously in the world. While they had love for each other, their relationship was layered in pain all the way through

uhhh I got off-track.

tldr: I hypothesize that m/f ships require less "evidence" to be convincing to audiences because they are the norm. As a result, many m/f ships are written more shallowly than f/f or m/m relationships, whether written as lovers or friends.

why did isayama put his whole pussy into yumihisu after saying he can’t write romance. and then fumble when it came to the straights.

[bellevvalencia]

Love

started November 2023, finished January 27, 2024

“When you finally know what love is,” a friend said when we were fourteen, “write about it and tell me.”

In high school, I talked a lot about love like I lived for it. It didn’t matter that I’ve never had it or felt it or looked for it before. I believed in it and in whatever religious and romantic gift I was promised. I believed that I could speak and think about it very well. I believed that I could express it in words and in actions when, in the right time, I had all the reasons to.

That was probably the case for most of us.

We were kids; it was our job to try to get to know it better and better everyday and find out every year that it changes as we do. It was in our big big hearts and small small brains that we are entitled to it, and we had a right to it, no matter how much the older people disapproved of it.

You’re just kids.

And because we were kids, we’d try, anyway.

In college, I thought it was irrational whenever exes got back together. It should be easy, I’d think, to let go and choose themselves, the potential they could make with other people. Because the feeling could be anywhere. It should be easy to look forward to being single and owning your life with endless options. Because it could only get better, especially when you’re nineteen, and you had all the time and all the light of the world.

It was a complicated idea that I couldn’t quite understand. How do you love so easily when people are hard to love? How do you love so fully when people are picky? How do you love so closely when people always push away?

And when you’re twenty, you’re supposed to be thinking about what you’re supposed to make of yourself. When you think of the scary path and the pressure that beats the pot, giving yourself to someone who had even a 10% chance of eventually throwing it all away seemed like a waste of time.

But suddenly, I was twenty-two, I was willing to die for a boy who would never do the same for me, and I understood why, despite the long rationale, people come running back to each other.

Partially, it’s because it’s never my priority. Mostly, it’s because I got tired of justifying that love should be whatever I was promised it was.

A decade ago, somebody told me that I was lucky to have loved and be loved in return, even if it was only something that I led myself to believe. I am stuck with that line until today. On some days, I consider it beautiful, but on others, when my face is planted deep on the ground, I take it as absolutely insulting.

I would be lying down on the floor after a full day and laughing, thinking, oh my God, is it really that hard?

If I could do all of the things I do right now and do it well, why is this one thing that I lived to tell a tale about so hard?

When I felt what it was like to love and be loved, even if it was only something that I led myself to believe, I decided to call bullshit on love being so perfectly beautiful.

The truth about love is that it is everything that we think it is, but not always. Love is not always kind. It is not always forgiving and it is not always patient. Sometimes it envies and sometimes it boasts. Love is a lot of stupid things. It is an oxymoron. It is good and bad at the same time. It is an irony. It is a crippling reward. It is a miserable compromise. It is a bearable pain. It is big and it is small. It’s in the grand little things. It’s in the little grand things. It cannot be calm without the chaos. Sometimes it lacks. Sometimes it brushes you off. Sometimes it ditches you for a date. Sometimes it leaves you without warning. It is a feeling. It is a very good feeling. It motivates you and inspires you. God, it is a whole lot of different things. It’s in those whole lot of different things. And even then, when it is not always what you expect it to be, it continues to complete you.

I completely believe it. Even a love that is so incomplete completes you.

In your lifetime, you get a lot of chances to find out what love is about, and more often than not, you don’t really get to recognize it as it happens. You love places, things, seasons, and blends. You love a certain weather and you love a certain song that goes with it. You love that one little journal you kept when you felt like you were nothing. You love a certain color and you love a certain person that wears it well. You love that one nostalgic smell that never seems to match any of what you own now. You love a certain place and you love a certain emotion that springs when you pass by. You love that one cartoon show that you only started as a joke. You love your pets with your whole life. You love nature and the sky and the way it makes you feel. You love filling out every second of your everyday. You love your fake life. You love your real life. You love your family and you love your friends and their family. You love people. Damn, you love people. You love your parents. You love your siblings. You love a person. You love a soul. You love yourself. You love God. You love time. You love your life.

When all is said and done about love, it continues to be all the reasons why.

Why do you continue to fight? Why do you continue to hate? Why do you keep leaving? Why do you keep coming back? Why do you dwell in the hurt? Why do you avoid the hurt? Why are you so angry? Why are you so happy?

Why, despite all the knowing, do you still choose to do what you do? To laugh when you find out how hard it is, and to try again when you finally know what the worst of it feels like. Or to leave, let live, and let go, because you’ve had enough.

Love is the answer—even if it’s only something that you lead yourself to believe.

The knowing is one thing.

At the end, no matter what age and season and blend it is, living in it is another.

[playmepoetry]

losing a dear friend

i can't believe i had to open the new year (and my birth month) with tears in my eyes as i grip the reality of grief. maybe it's not the grief most people know that involve death, but losing a dear friend can be grieved too. that's what i've been trying to come to terms with.

as someone who's often branded "weird", i've gotten used to being alone. i go on shopping sprees by myself, sing at the karaoke by myself, write my thesis by myself, do my internship by myself, play video games by myself...all the things i see others do with other people, i had to do by myself. i had to cheer myself up. i had to get moving. i celebrated my achievements by myself.

when i think about it, no one even invites me to their birthday parties or outings or just simple get-togethers after school. i just tag along thinking "oh, they probably will include me at some point," but then they find better friends and better companions on the way home after school. and there i am yet again, standing all alone.

i do have friends, mind you. i used to be at their parties. i used to tag along their outings. i used to stroll around at the mall after school. but we don't talk much now, they are all busy. that's normal. we outgrow each other. it's not like they're gonna be in our lives forever.

but now that i found someone that actually sees me the way i am, that treasures me a lot despite all my flaws and idiotic decisions, it was the first time i couldn't bear to lose them. if i lose them, i don't know what i'll end up being. it hurts...to this day. even as i type this, tears well in my eyes, about to fall down typing arguably one of my most heartbreaking experiences i could endure in almost 23 years of existing in this world.

this was the first time i felt so much heartbreak since the ditching that happened early on in my thesis arc. i thought we were just going to be talking to each other all the time, yet i fully understood that people have their own dreams too, their own aspirations, their own life. they can't always revolve their lives around me. that's why it breaks my heart, shatters it into a million incomprehensible pieces that many will find injustifiable. but then again, the two of us ended up being important to each other's lives that i just find it funny how we were just unknowing strangers four years ago and now we're like siblings bickering every single day, finding every opportunity to talk despite our busy lives about anything and everything under the sun. it feels so good to have a friend that actually reciprocates the love that i always pour onto others. i finally had a friend that puts in as much effort as i do in keeping the bond alive, yet now i am about to lose that.

no matter how much i try to not be filled with all the memories we've shared in such a short amount of time, it just comes flooding in and i am enamored by this grief that now seems neverending. but again, friends grow apart and we can't do anything about it. i feel sad, but i'm also eternally grateful for all of what we've shared throughout that duration.

alexa, play futari no kioku

[toukatan]

You read every gojohime fic???? That's amazing!!! What are your favourites?

hello anonie! i guess i can say i’ve read at least a good 80% of all the fics, at least. probably. most likely because the fic tag at the start of the year was tiny and now the community’s grown so much there’s almost 600 of them. that’s insane to me. like hello?

i have a lotta fics that come to mind, that i should honestly make a master post on because i love them all. so here are a few many that came to mind immediately as i typed this up.

gojohime fic recommendations!

multichapter

limitations by ohmytheon 

“Parenthood chooses you," her mother used to tell her, but Utahime never understood that saying more than the moment she realized she was pregnant with Gojo Satoru's child. They were never meant to be something serious - never meant to be more than they were - and yet they both suddenly find themselves in a world that doesn't care about their desires - and that brings them closer in a way that no one else can understand. It won't be easy and it won't be kind to either of them, but it appears as if the universe has other plans for them

no one is what they were before by ohmytheon 

The world broke when Gojo Satoru turned on jujutsu society. It's not the hopeful place it was before, but Utahime has never been one to give up. Until she's placed in a dangerous position directly in his path, and she finds herself trapped in a web that doesn't seem intent on ever letting her go.

and touch me like you never by ohmytheon 

In public, Gojo is a special grade bastard, especially to Utahime, and has been all their lives. He knows exactly what insults to throw and what buttons to push to drive her up a wall. In private, however, he's got quite a few other things to tell and show her, which only makes things more confusing. It would be easier if she could avoid him entirely, but for some reason, he won't let her go entirely.

gravity by aerfei

This is Utahime, fierce and indomitable, and this is Satoru, who despite holding the world’s regard, still craves something that Utahime has had all her life. Coming together is sometimes an act of desperation, and sometimes a deliberate choice. Or: An Iori Utahime character study, through the lens of her relationship with Gojo Satoru, starting from the beginning and ending at the Goodwill Event arc. Manga spoilers and (at least 95%) canon-compliant through (at least) chapter 135.

count every single leaf in autumn by florieneofthesea

“I told my family we’re dating.” Utahime’s hand hovers over the door. “What?!” (or: Gojo tells his family that he's dating Utahime to get them off his back, so of course they invite her to the dreaded family dinner™)

favourite colour by otherthingsonhold

At 28, Satoru Gojo's responsibilities only start to multiply. With his clan looking to him to lead the family, and the balance of the universe in his hands, Gojo isn't thinking of much else. But when his mother brings something to his attention, the only thing Gojo can do is follow through. But how is Utahime Iori part of all of this?

gojo catoru by ashittywriter

Utahime is tasked to catsit a suspiciously large Persian dollface cat with pristine white hair, the most boop-able nose, and to top it off the cutest cerulean eyes. Too bad the cat also happens to be her idiotic colleague Gojo Satoru.

at the tail-end of spring by florieneofthesea

Utahime doesn't expect to remember her ex's number off by heart but it comes in handy when she's a little less than sober outside a club in a city she's not familiar with and her battery on three percent. She just wishes things turned out differently for them. (Or, post-break up exploration where outer forces refuse to let them have their happy ending.)

a second chance by onewordmore

In another world, it wasn't Geto who sneered down at humanity, regarding them to be worthless monkeys that deserved to die. In another world, it wasn't Geto who openly defied the Jujutsu Council and brought down terror and fear to all. In another world, it wasn't just Amanai Riko who died that day, amidst the cheers and delighted cries of the insane. And Utahime was going to learn, first hand, the consequences of her own death.

from you to me by onewordmore

A drabble series regarding Gojo and Utahime. From fluff to smut to angst to love. This is going to have it all.

oneshots

oceansize by aerfei

The marriage is arranged by their families, small clans both, with all their hopes and traditions laid gently upon the shoulders of their only heirs -- and yet, this distance is impassable.

under the cover of darkness by ohmytheon

It takes a little alcohol, early morning hours, and a game of truth or dare for Gojo and Utahime to admit some difficult truths to each other.

risk/reward by ohmytheon 

No punishment had ever been more effective in making Gojo do his actual job than receiving praise from his secretary - or more grueling than when Utahime withheld it.

like a good roommate by ohmytheon

Utahime has a problem: her bed wasn't delivered to the new apartment. Her ridiculous roommate, Gojo, has a solution - but he's kind of panicking on the inside.

aware of us by halspur 

“We did alright, didn’t we?” Gojo put his phone down after taking several dozen photos of Tsumiki walking across the stage, his eyes soft. “I mean, we were just kids, too.”

love song by halspur

“Because you’re weak.” Gojo said, muffled into the thin skin of her throat. “I can’t leave you alone.”

tear you apart by halspur

“I don’t want to be mean to you,” Utahime’s cheek was pressed into his spine, her voice muffled. “I like you.”

cuddles are for clean boyfriends by just_trying_my_best_everyday

Utahime finds Gojo Satoru sitting right behind the door, blindfold hanging on his neck, completely soaked in blood and petting her cat with both hands. And he stinks.

honey by florieneofthesea

Gojo Satoru experiences love a decade before he fully realises it.

roots by florieneofthesea 

At the start of winter, Utahime starts to cough up blood. She thinks maybe its just the lingering damage from her last mission, but the coughing persists and it starts to scratch her throat, and itch at her lungs and when she finally makes the trip to Tokyo to ask Shoko for her help, she doesn't even get the first word out. Shoko welcomes her at the entrance to Tokyo Metropolitan Technical School and Utahime hacks up a single, pale blue petal, smattered with blood. She stares down at the flora on the ground and wonders if she's been cursed. Utahime looks up, and Shoko's eyes are wide.

to have and to hold by ashittywriter

“M’sorry," Gojo said his voice slurring at the end. "But please go away, I have a girlfriend." Utahime blinked in confusion. What the fuck? 

souvenir by PrettyKittyLuvsU

“Aha!” Gojo tugged something out of his pocket, his long fingers curled around it as he held his hand behind his back. His other hand waved before him, a cheeky grin splitting his lips. “Ora, ora! Hold out your hand.” Utahime stared flatly. “Ora, ora!” Gojo persisted, continuing to wave his hand as he grinned. “Hold out your hand already!” Utahime scowled at the hand swaying infront of her face. She had half a mind to slap the man instead, but her students were closely watching. Even Gojo’s students, the second years mainly—for Sukuna’s vessel was apologizing profusely as the brown haired girl continued kicking him while the quiet one made no effort to stop her— looked in fascination at whatever ridiculous souvenir Gojo wanted to hand her. Utahime slowly lifted her arm, already planning on throwing the thing back in Gojo’s annoying face. Gojo gets Utahime a very special kind of souvenir. Set during the start of the Goodwill arc.

dayum this exposes me huh? i do be reading a lot but what can i say i love to see it. all these fics are amazing, to the writers y’all are doing fantastically like my goodness you be really putting ya girl in a loop with some of these fics with your plot-lines and doing it flawlessly. can’t thank them enough for them, their hard work and time!

be sure to show the writers some love and support with comments, bookmarks and fight that dayum kudos button when it smiles at you because lemme leave more—

i think they’d really really appreciate it when they hear the bing and be sure to check out all of their stories including the ones in the pairing tag! happy readings 😙✨

[btssavedmylifeblr]

Void - Part 7 (M)

title banner by @rude–jude♡

Genre: Sci-fi with a little angst and a LOT of smut

Pairing: BTS x Reader (yup - all seven)

Summary: You are the only female crew member on a 12 year space mission with seven handsome men. The sexual tension is real, y’all.

Word Count: 10.9k

Part 7 / ?

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Warnings: explicit sexual content, alcohol masturbation, voyeurism, more non-monogamy

The men at the table stare at you, dumb-founded. Jungkook’s mouth hangs open. Hoseok hides his mouth behind his hand; his eyes are wide with shock. Jimin spins around, trying to gauge the others’ reactions. Namjoon leans back in his chair, face unreadable, his chin resting on his hand as he looks from you to your powerpoint. Jin laughs uncomfortably then clears his throat and silence falls again.

Yoongi speaks first. “You put sources on your powerpoint about how we should all start fucking?”  

“It’s important to cite your sources,” you mutter, shuffling your feet.

Taehyung sits up straighter on his cot. “Are you saying we should start fucking you or each other?”

“Well, the bonobos do both. They are fully bisexual. Almost all aggressive contests are settled by sex. Even when two males squabble over a female, they often resolve it by rubbing their genitals together.”

“What?” Hoseok injects. “You want us to start rubbing our genitals together?” His cheeks blush.

“No, no, no.” You shake your head. “I meant you all should have sex with me.” Your own cheeks heat up as you say it. “I can’t control what you do with other people. In an ideal world, it would be both. But it seemed best to start with me.”

Jungkook mouths the words “start with” to himself, still staring at the table.

“But like, how would that work logistically?” Taehyung asks.

“Well, there are seven of you, so that could be like one per day. Take a week off for my period.”

Jimin splutters, whirling to face Yoongi. “Did you put her up to this?”

Yoongi shakes his head, frowning.

“No one put me up to this!” you argue. “This is what I think is best for the mission.”

An explosion of opinions pours out of all the men at once. Hoseok is swearing under his breath. Taehyung is trying to get Jimin’s attention, but Jimin is arguing with Yoongi. Jungkook wants to know how you decide who goes first. Jin says something to Namjoon that you can’t hear.

“So, um…” You struggle to regain command of the room over the chatter. “My period starts tomorrow, so take a few days to think about it.”

“Officer.” Namjoon’s deep voice cuts over everyone else and the conversation at the table ceases. “You and I need to speak privately. Now.”

The commander stands up from the table and gestures toward the door. The rest of the crew looks back and forth between the two of you wearing expressions of shock and confusion.

You avoid their gazes as you follow Namjoon’s direction out into the hallway. He steps out after you, closing the door behind him. A flurry of chatter resumes after the door shuts, but it’s too muffled to hear what the rest of the crew are saying. You and Namjoon stare at each other.

“So…” you say, shifting your weight between your feet.

“Let’s talk in my office,” he says, squeezing past you and moving in the direction of the sleep pods.

You examine him from behind as you follow him to his office, trying to gauge what he’s thinking. Are his shoulders tense? Is he angry with you? Are you about to be scolded?

His office is also his bedroom. And you did just offer to fuck him, no strings attached. But of all your crew, Namjoon is the one that you have the most strictly professional relationship with. His walls are almost as impenetrable as yours. But he is a man, right? And men like sex, right? It would have been more awkward to not include him. This wasn’t about personal feelings. It was about the mission. And you were all in the mission together.

________

Sweat pools at the base of your spine under the hot studio lights. A reporter drums her long red nails on her clipboard as the sound technician adjusts the microphones between interviews.

Press junkets are your least favorite part of the job, made all the worse by your mission director insisting you all dress in full launch gear, despite the launch still being two weeks away.

“This is the last one.” Namjoon turns around from his front and center seat to whisper to the rest of the crew.

Yoongi groans, rubbing his face with his hands. “Why do we have so many of them when they all ask the same questions?”

The eight of you have been trapped in this room all day as a parade of different reporters trail in and ask the same inane questions.

This new reporter opens with a softball. “How’s the food?”

“Good!” Namjoon patiently answers this question for the third time today. “The ICSE has recruited the top food scientists to figure out which foods hold their flavor and nutrition best in long term storage. And our chief botanist here is going to keep us well stocked with fruits and vegetables. Right, officer?” He gestures for you to chime in.

“Yup!” You are grateful to Namjoon for pitching you a question that isn’t about you being the only woman in a crew full of men. You’ve already had to explain how periods in space work twice today (short answer: pretty much the same way they work on Earth). “We have lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers, peas, bean, soy, carrots, cabbage, chilis, potatoes, lemons, oranges and strawberries, plus a bunch of fresh herbs. They even found a way for us to grow mushrooms out of our culinary compost.”

The reporter makes a disgusted face at the idea of compost mushrooms and pivots to a new line of questioning. “What will you miss most about home?”

“Why don’t we go around the group?” Namjoon prompts. Even your commander seems to be fading in enthusiasm by this point. “I’m going to miss long walks in the fresh air, and my family, of course.”

Most of the crew answers with some variation of friends and family. Yoongi will miss his brother’s cooking. Taehyung will miss his dog who is going to live with his parents. Jungkook will miss long showers and his mom.

“What’s one personal item you’re taking with you?” she asks.

Namjoon is bringing a Chinese elm bonsai tree that he calls his tiny friend. Hoseok is bringing a stuffed Earth plushie given to him by his niece. Jin is bringing vodka.

The reporter narrows her eyes at the mention of alcohol and leans forward. “So what do you do if you feel a crew member’s judgement has been compromised?”

“We have protocols in place,” Namjoon answers. “Tests of cognitive impairment and such. We’re also coached in what we call “expeditionary behaviors” which are key to maintaining peace and cooperation on board.

Yoongi chimes in. “The key to solving all disputes is our ability to be honest with each other. When there is a problem, we sit down as a group and discuss it.”

“Our readers are saying what a tragedy it is that we are shipping seven of our most eligible bachelors off to space for a decade.” She laughs. “Any broken hearts being left here on Earth?”

“Oh!” Namjoon draws back and looks unsuredly at the rest of the group. This was not a question he was expecting to be asked today. “Umm…” he laughs nervously.

“My mom is devastated!” Jin cracks from the back row and the rest of the crew laughs in relief.

But the reporter doesn’t want to let go of this idea so quickly, so she turns to you. “Well, you must certainly enjoy having such handsome crew members.”

“Uh…” To your complete mortification, you actually blush in response. You clench your fist to try to get a grip. To your right, Hoseok’s hand flinches, as if he can feel the need to hold you back. “I’m going on this mission to find life on other planets.” You grit your teeth. “My only interest in my crew is whether or not they do their jobs.”

The woman shakes her head, laughing. “Doesn’t hurt that they look good doing it.”

_______

Namjoon opens the door to his office and gestures for you to enter. The number of papers on his desk seems to have multiplied, which theoretically shouldn’t be possible.

“I’m going to say three words to you,” Namjoon says as he closes the door behind him. “And then I need you to repeat them back to me: banana, river, finger.”

“Namjoon,” you cross your arms. “I’m not cognitively impaired right now.”

He mirrors your closed stance. “Please repeat the words.”

You sigh. “Banana, river, finger.”

He pulls a piece of paper from his desk and wipes it clean, before handing it to you, along with a pen. “I need you to draw a clock face.”

“Seriously?”

“Set it to quarter past eight.”

“This isn’t necessary, commander,” you grumble as you take the pen and paper, drawing a rudimentary clock face and setting the hands to 8:15. “See?” You hand the paper back to him and he inspects it.

He nods, rubbing his chin. “Repeat the three words again.”

“Banana, river, finger.” You put your hands on your hips. “You think my judgement is compromised?”

Namjoon sighs. “Everything seems to be in order. You must admit, your behavior recently has been uncharacteristic to say the least. Are you sure everything is okay?”

“Well, no, everything is not okay, that’s why I’m doing this.”

He leans against his desk, looking you up and down. “I fail to see how fraternizing with the entire crew will improve things.”

The back of your neck heats up in embarrassment, but you press on. You need the commander to be onboard with your plan.

“You admit we have a morale problem, right?”

He nods. “Hard to suggest otherwise. What with all the recent events.”

“Okay, so I was going through the principles of expeditionary behavior last night as I figured out what to do. Principle One:  Communication - talk so you are clearly understood, talk about intentions before taking action, share information freely.”

“I know the principles.” Namjoon interrupts.

“But don’t you see? That’s why I had to call the meeting. Why I had to get everything out in the open, share information freely.”

“That explains why you needed to inform the crew of your relationship with Jimin. It doesn’t explain why you think it would be good to involve everyone.”

“Principle Two: Self-care - manage psychological and physiological health, balance work, rest, and personal time, be proactive to stay healthy and mitigate stress.”

Namjoon arches an eyebrow. “A lack of sex doesn’t damage your health.”

“With all due respect commander, I think it does.”

“There are outlets to relieve sexual urges other than exploiting our only female crew member.”

“Well, they were all trading porn with each other. That’s how this whole thing started.” Namjoon purses his lips in thought. That seems to be new information to your commander. You continue your argument. “Principle Three: Team-care - monitor team for signs of stress and fatigue - which we have a multitude of, cooperate rather than compete, encourage participation in team activities.”

“Are you considering this a team activity?”

“Well, yes. Like the bonobos do.”

Namjoon shakes his head. “Let me speak so I am clearly understood. I can’t prevent you or the rest of the crew from doing what you want to do with your personal time. But I can’t participate in it either. I’m the commanding officer on this ship. It’s inappropriate. We can’t have an equitable relationship.”

“That’s why it’s not a relationship though, it’s just sex. And if everyone involved is consenting...”

He rubs the back of his neck. “Let’s be honest about intent for a minute. Is that really what you want? You want all seven of us?”

“Umm…” Your stomach churns as you are unable to admit that, yes, that is what you want. “I think it’s best for the mission.”

“Part of principle three is to volunteer for unpleasant tasks if they benefit the team. Are you sure that’s not what you’re doing right now, officer?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” Though embarrassing to admit, boning your attractive colleagues is not an unpleasant task in the slightest.

“You should also consider the fact that whatever forms do get signed will have to be sent back to mission control. And may get out to the press.”

“I thought HR decisions were confidential.”

“Juicy stories have a tendency to find their way out. Especially when they distract from failed missions that added years on to our trip.”

“I understand, commander. Information must be shared freely. I still think this plan is necessary if we’re going to complete this mission successfully.”

“Okay.” Namjoon sighs, dropping his hands to his sides. “It would seem there is no talking you out of it.”

“No, sir. I intend to implement with full commitment.”

The two of you stare at each other for a minute. An immovable object and an unstoppable force.

“So… should I go?”

“Yes, you’re dismissed.”

________

After the press junket is mercifully over, Hoseok catches you in the hallway.

“Hey, you coming to Tae and Jimin’s quarantine party tonight?” Tonight is the last night you all are allowed to see other people before you enter your two-week quarantine prior to launch. “Seems like you could use a drink.”

“I don’t know,”  you sigh, leaning against the wall.

“What’s on your mind?” He leans next to you.

“That last reporter, she got in my head.” You rub your forehead.

Hoseok rubs the back of his neck. His jawline tenses as he mulls over what to say.

Hoseok is so handsome. And smart. And newly single. He broke up with his girlfriend a couple of weeks ago before signing the final mission papers. And now he was going to be the one of only seven people in your whole world.

In another life, you would want to date him. You’d be dying to go to a party with him and plot how to get him alone for part of the evening. In another life, you would have fallen in love with him. But in this life, he’d been dating someone else for the whole time you’ve known him. And you have a mission.

What’s most grating is that the gossip columnist isn’t wrong. You’d be hard pressed to find a better set of men anywhere on Earth than the seven you were leaving with. They were all attractive, smart, kind, disciplined, athletic young men. It would be much easier to be entirely professional if you had a crew of balding middle-aged men.

“Do you think it's a mistake? Me going on this mission?” you finally ask.

“What?” Hoseok gasps. “No! Why would you think that?”

“The mission director said it was supposed to be only men. That mixed gender crews are too complicated.”

“Have we ever done anything to make you feel like we don’t view you as a professional?”

“No, no, of course not.” Other than being ridiculously good-looking.

Hoseok’s fingers twiddle nervously. “And we won’t. We’re a team. You’re our colleague. This mission is so much bigger than any one of us. And you’re the best candidate for this position.”

“I’m the only candidate.”

Hoseok smiles. “Well, that’s exactly my point. We’d be lost without our biologist. Besides, you were better than all the male candidates even before they dropped out.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Oh yes, I do. Are you forgetting how badly you kicked my ass all over organic chemistry? And I was the chem major! It was such a disgrace.” You both laugh.

You smile at the memory: early morning study sessions, Hoseok bringing you coffee in exchange for your homework help.

“Come on,” he insists. “I know you. You can’t not go. You’re going to be the first woman on Europa. It’s been your destiny since college. Don’t you want to see it with us?”

Yes, you wanted to see it so badly. You picture the two of you looking out over the icy surface together.

“Come tonight.” Hoseok insists. “It’ll be fine, you’ll see. We won’t mess this up for you.”

“Thank you, Hoseok.”

_______

You leave Namjoon’s bedroom and climb into your own sleep pod, the question of what mission control or the press know about what’s happening on this ship weighing on your mind.

Unfortunately, googling it for yourself won’t work. It takes between 10 and 20 minutes for a single signal to get from your ship to Earth, depending on exactly where you both are in your orbits. Then it takes another 10-20 minutes to return. Usually if you wanted to research something, you’d submit a formal request to your research assistants back on Earth,  who would gather a collection of relevant documents for you and send you a bundle of them all at once. But asking your research assistants to assemble a dossier on your rumored sex life was out of the question. You need someone you can trust.

You pull out your laptop and compose the following email.

Hi Dianna,

How are you doing? I’m sorry I’ve been slow to respond to your messages lately, things have been a bit messy out here. I was wondering if I could ask you a favor. Are there rumors about my personal life going around the ICSE? Or in the press? I was wondering if you’d be willing to run a quick google search and let me know what you find.

Thank you! I hope you and Melissa are doing well.

Dianna should have been on this mission with you. You wish you could talk to her in person. You’ll have to send her a video message when you have more time. But you are interrupted in your thoughts by a knock on the door.

“Who is it?”

“Jimin.”

You hit send on the email and open the door.

“Can we talk?” he asks.

You nod and stand to one side to allow him into your pod.

He sighs and rubs the back of his neck. “So I’m confused.” He runs a hand through his hair as he steps into the pod. “Last night you were mad at me for suggesting you date Taehyung. You said you wouldn’t be passed around between crew members. But now you want to have sex with the entire crew?”

“I’m not being passed around. This is my plan. I’m in control.”

He shakes his head. “The end results seem to be the same though. I don’t understand.”

“This way we don’t have to pretend this is something it’s not. It can just be sex, just release. We don’t have to pretend it means anything more than that.”

“But it means something to me.” Jimin frowns. “I have feelings for you.”

You sigh. “They’re not real though. It’s hormones and boredom. It’s just because I’m the only woman here.”

“No it’s not!”

“Yes it is! You didn’t feel this way about me on Earth, right?”

Jimin stammers for a minute. “People can change. Relationships can change.”

“Jungkook and Taehyung didn’t have feelings for me on Earth either and now that they’ve seen me naked they’re suddenly 'in love' with me. That’s not real. That’s just biology. We’re just apes in space with too much time on our hands.”

“Jungkook’s in love with you too?”

“I don’t know. He thinks he is.”

Jimin frowns, but seems less sure of himself. “Is this because I suggested sharing? Cause that was a dumb idea and I take it back.”

“No! You were right. It’s what’s best for the mission.”

“So what? It’s like this or nothing? I have to share you to have any of you?”

You don’t answer him. Currently, no one else has actually signed, so Jimin might get you all to himself anyways.

“Am I… am I not enough?” Jimin asks. “I can be more. I can do better. I can do whatever Yoongi does that you like so much.”

“This isn’t about Yoongi. It’s about the mission.”

“You said you liked me. You said you wanted to be with me. Was that just about the mission?”

“It’s not about what I want.”

“Yeah, yeah… it's about the mission.”  

He turns to go, but you catch his hand in yours. His thumb rubs across the back of your hand. All the men are just as touch-starved as you are. It’s probably unfair that you are playing to that now.

You see an idea flash across his face right before he scoops you up into his arms, kissing you passionately. “I’m going to show you,” he whispers between kisses. “I’m going to show it's real. I’m going to be what you need. My feelings are real.”

Then he places you back down and leaves. You lean against the door breathless.

________

Mistake number one: You should not have challenged Jin to beer pong.

Mistake number two: You should not have said goodbye to your parents and dog right before going to a party full of strangers and booze.

Mistake number three: You should not have gone to find Hoseok when you are this drunk and he smells that good.

You collapse onto the couch beside Hoseok, too tired to stand up anymore. Hoseok smiles to see you, face flushed red.

“Hoseok,” you whisper, even though he’s already looking at you. “Hoseok, I have something important to tell you.”

He leans in closer. “Yeah?”

“Europa’s oceans are ninety-six kilometers deep.”

He laughs. “Of course, I know that! I wrote my graduate thesis on Europa’s oceans!”

“Yeah, but like…” You wave your hand. “That’s like soooo deep. Like not intuitive, you know? Like that’s ten times deeper than any ocean on Earth. I can’t even conceive of how deep our oceans are, let alone Europa’s.”

You scoot closer to him on the couch. “That’s like…” You pull out your phone to do some basic math. “That’s like 120 Burj Khalifas!!”

Hoseok nods. “Yes… It is super deep.”

“Stacked on top of each other!” You slap your knee in emphasis.

“Yes, I know!” He laughs again.

You sigh. “Can I tell you a secret?” You lean in closer and put a hand on his thigh. He leans in too. “There just has to be life down there. I know there has to be.”

“I hope so.” He rests his hand on yours.

“We’re going to find it together, you and I.” You grab his hand and squeeze it.

Hoseok looks down at your joined hands and you worry that maybe you’ve gone too far. Maybe tomorrow this will be an awkward and embarrassing moment. But right now it feels nice. His hand is warm. You wonder if it would be too much to lean your head on his shoulder.

But then Hoseok’s phone buzzes in his lap. His ex-girlfriend’s name flashes across the screen and you drop his hand.

“Sorry,” he mutters, getting up off the couch. “I should take this.” He leaves and the couch next you is colder.

“Hey!” Jin stumbles over to your seating area. “Have any of you guys seen Namjoon?”

“I think he went to meet that girl he won’t tell us about,” Yoongi answers from a chair a few feet away. When did Yoongi get here?

“So everyone is getting laid tonight, huh?” Jin laughs.

“Not everyone,” Yoongi mutters, nursing his beer.

“Don’t be such a grump, Yoongi. It’s basically our last night on Earth! Take advantage!” Jin laughs before wandering back into the crowd.

“I’m not getting laid tonight either!” You yell across the room at Yoongi. More direct than you would be when sober.

He cracks the first smile you’ve seen from him in days, raising his beer into the air in a little clinking motion. You do the same with your plastic cup full of what Jimin had described as “Tae’s jungle juice”. It was red and smelled like tequila.

“Why aren’t you getting laid?” you ask, taking a swig of the juice for courage.

“Got dumped, not really over it yet,” he answers matter-of-factly. “What about you?”

You shrug. “The only men here are about to be my only companions for the next twelve years. Seems like a bad plan to fuck them.”

Yoongi laughs. “Suppose so.”

“Well, don’t you worry. If that reporter is right, we’ll all be having space orgies in a month anyways.”

Yoongi chokes on his beer. “Shit.” Beer dribbles down his chin as he laughs. “I think we need to find you some ice water and a cab.”

“Probably a good plan,” you mutter as you lie down on the couch and close your eyes.

________

When you wake up in the morning, there are still no signed HR forms in your messages. Had you been a fool to think any of them were interested? How much time does it take to decide such a thing? Perhaps by putting the idea out there explicitly, it had lost all of its taboo appeal.

There are two other things waiting for you to notice though: your period and a calendar reminder that today is chili pepper pollinating day. After dealing with the first of those problems in the bathroom, you head for the lab to find Hoseok.

You find the science officer in the lab as always, sitting with his knee tucked up against his chest.

“Hey, um…” You shuffle your feet. Want to fuck me? No wait…

He blinks at you, bleary-eyed.

“Oh, you don’t look good. Were you here all night?” you ask.

“Um, was I? Yeah. I suppose. Lost track of time.” He rubs his eyes, before looking you up and down, then casting his gaze back to the floor.

All you want to do is ask about the forms. Or the meeting. Or what he thinks of you now. But you don’t.

“I need to pollinate the chili peppers today.” Usually Hoseok is the person who assists with that. “But I can get one of the other guys to do it if you need the sleep.”

“No!” Hoseok lurches forward, standing up a bit too rapidly and needing to put his hand back on the bench to steady himself. “I mean, I’m fine.”

You should disagree with him. He is exhausted. But you’d like more time to talk to him.

Pollinating the chili peppers is both time-sensitive and time-consuming, hence why it took two of you to get the job done. There were no insects on your ship to do the job for you and if the plants didn’t get pollinated, they wouldn’t bear any fruit. Chili peppers were your favorite crop. Not only a vital source of Vitamin C, but all your food benefitted from having a bit of spice added to it.

You and Hoseok head for the greenhouse together. The initial set-up gives you something to talk about in the beginning. Hoseok gathers the pollen from one flower onto a paintbrush, then hands it over to you to paint onto the stigmas of each little flower on the next plant.

Slowly the conversation dries up as you fall into a silent rhythm. Other than enjoying the chili peppers, this was also one of your favorite tasks on the ship because of the high likelihood that the two of you would brush hands periodically. It always gave you butterflies. But today he seems extra intent on keeping his distance from you. Was he disgusted by you now? His hands are trembling.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

His hand twitches so hard that a little rain of yellow pollen cascades onto the floor. He curses in frustration before turning to face you. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

"I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“This, um, plan of yours…” he gestures to the vague tension in the air. “It doesn’t feel like you.”

“I’m trying to save the mission. That has always been my top priority.”

“Yeah, I’m still not clear on how this benefits the mission.”

“I outlined it all in my presentation. Plus Yoongi said…” you start to say, but are cut off by Hoseok's derisive snort.

“Look, if you’re in love with Yoongi, go date him, okay? Don’t feel obligated to include the rest of us out of pity.”

You frown. “I’m not… I’m not in love with him. It’s just sex. Just biology.”

“This isn’t you!” Hoseok argues back. “You hated the idea of anyone ever treating you that way. And now you want all of us to… to… use you like that?”  He splutters out the end of the sentence.

“No one is using me! This is my plan!”

He sighs. “Well, I can’t be a part of it. Excuse me.” He leaves you alone in the greenhouse.

Your lower lip trembles and you bite it to stop it. He’s disgusted by you. Yoongi was wrong; Hoseok doesn’t want you. It takes you the rest of the day to finish the pollinating on your own.

_____

There are no forms waiting for you when you wake up the next morning either. Perhaps this was a mistake after all. If the men aren’t looking for release in the same way you are, then there’s no point to any of this. Even Jimin has been keeping his distance, so all you’ve done is mess up the one relationship you did have and offend your commander and colleagues.

Your tablet buzzes with a notification. It’s a reply from Dianna.

It’s great to hear from you! I hope things aren’t too crazy up there. I haven’t heard any rumors at work, but I’ve not been directly involved with your mission. We’ve started the plans for Titan and it’s taking most of my focus. I can ask around though if you want me to. I was surprised to find this article when I googled. Is this accurate? I assumed you would have said something.

Hope you are well! Melissa and I are going to send you a video of our new puppy.

Dianna

There is a pdf of a magazine article attached to the email entitled “Love Amongst the Stars”. At the top is one of the official launch photos of the whole crew that has been zoomed and cropped so that it’s only you and Jimin sitting next to each other. The tagline reads “How two astronauts had to leave Earth to find each other”. It makes you cringe so hard you have to put the tablet down for a minute before you can read on.

It’s some sort of fluff piece about a secret affair between you and the mission specialist. You scan the article, trying to figure out what they know. “A source close to the couple spoke with us...” Who is their source? You haven’t told anyone on Earth about what's going on with Jimin.

“Coworkers said they always sensed a special connection between the two…” This is nonsense. Jimin is one of the crew members you knew the least about prior to launch.

“Other crew members are very supportive…” Uh, sure.

“Maybe we’ll even get our first space wedding…” You groan out loud, closing the pdf.

Maybe that seals it then. You’ll just be space-married to Jimin for the next 12 years and that will be that. The idea makes you feel a bit claustrophobic in your tiny sleep pod, so you throw on your exercise clothes and head for the gym to try to clear your head.

_____

What you call “the gym” is actually just a bunch of resistance bands and cardio equipment stashed into the walls of one corner of the hangar. When the gravity was off, you had a variety of different choices for which equipment to use. There was a treadmill in the ceiling and an elliptical in the wall so multiple people could use the equipment in your off hours. But with the gravity on, the stationary bike on the floor is your only option.

As you begin your warm-up on the bike, you mull over your next move. Why hadn’t any of the other men come and talked to you yet? Jungkook had confessed to you, why wasn’t he signing up now? And Yoongi? Yoongi said he wanted a form only a few days ago. Why did it feel so different now?

Were you stupid? Had you embarrassed yourself in front of your entire crew for no reason? Maybe Namjoon and Hoseok were right and this was a bad plan. You pedal faster, trying to burn out some of the tension in your lungs.

The radio buzzes and Taehyung’s deep voice sounds in your in-ear. “Looking for a location for our biologist.”

“I’m in the gym,” you radio back, pausing your bike ride to catch your breath.

Moments later, Taehyung pokes his head in the door of the hangar. It’s good to see him up and about, even if his arm is still in a sling.

“Hey.” He steps into the room, adjusting his hair with his one good hand. “I need to talk to you about this, um, ape sex thing.”

Oh my gosh, is it finally happening? Maybe Jimin was right. Maybe Taehyung is more interested in you than you had realized. He fishes into his pocket and pulls out his tablet. You wish you weren’t so sweaty and gross for this conversation. Taehyung is such an intimidatingly attractive man.

Taehyung opens up the tablet and flips to the form as he walks closer to you. It’s happening. He’s going to sign the form. Shit. Then what will you do? It’s one thing to say you want to have sex with your whole crew, but what if he’s hoping to go right now? You need a shower.

Taehyung has nice hands. Long strong fingers delicately navigate the touch screen. It seems totally improbable that a man this attractive would be into you, even if you were the only woman in the universe. It adds to your suspicions that hormones are driving everyone crazy. Perhaps if you slept with him once, he’d lose all interest.

He finds the form and then turns his gaze up to you, staring you down with those eyes. It’s a good thing  Taehyung rarely turns his full gaze on you, because it is almost too much to bear. Shit, is he going to sign it? Is he waiting for you to give him some sort of signal?

“You can’t do this to Jimin,” he says.

“What?” Not what you were expecting. “Do what to Jimin?”

“This.” He gestures over the HR form. “Signing these forms with everyone. Having sex with everyone. You’re going to destroy Jimin.”

“Jimin’s the one who suggested this whole thing in the first place.” It’s a lie. You know it's a lie. Or at least a gross exaggeration. But Jimin was the one who first brought up the idea of sharing. All for the benefit of the man in front of you now.

“No way.” Taehyung scoffs, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. “No way was it Jimin’s idea that you sleep with the whole crew.”

“Well…” You can’t bear his gaze anymore and look down at the floor. “He wanted me to sleep with you.”

“What?” He puts down the tablet. “Why would he want that?”

“He, um…” You rub your arm. “He thinks you’re in love with me.”

“What?” There is only surprise on Taehyung’s face. It’s actually a relief to see that Taehyung is as shocked by that idea as you were. “Why does he think that?”

“I don’t know…” You feel kind of dumb now. Of course, Taehyung doesn’t feel that way about you. Look at him. “Cause you told him you were jealous. Cause you can’t stand to be in the same room as us.”

Taehyung bites his lip. “Oh, um, shit, sorry, that’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean?” you ask. If Taehyung wasn’t jealous of Jimin, then...“Who are you jealous of?”

“Nevermind…” Taehyung stumbles backward, putting his tablet back in his pocket. “Forget I said anything.”

“No wait,” you get up off the bike to chase after him, catching by the sleeve. As he turns around, you make a show of turning off your microphone. He does the same. “Are you jealous of me?” you ask. “Do you like Jimin?”

Taehyung’s eyes widen and he bites his lip. He glances toward the camera in the corner of the room, then stands up and begins unzipping his jumpsuit.

“Um…” You are distracted by the golden arms that peak from either side of the tank top as the zipper reaches his groin. “What are you doing?”

“Need something to block the camera.”

“We have towels,” you mutter.  But now he’s attempting to peel the tank top up over his head.

“Yeah, but this way anyone watching will think we’re having sex.” He answers. “Shit, can you give me a hand?” In his attempts to remove his shirt, he seems to have forgotten he is wearing the arm sling and is now stuck with his shirt over his head. His injured shoulder is black and blue from his accident with the ROV.

You gingerly try to disentangle him without getting too close to his warm, bare skin. You succeed in freeing him from his shirt and he tosses it up and over the camera.

“You want them to think we’re having sex?” you ask.

“Don’t you? It plays right into your whole ‘save the mission with bonobo sex’ plan.” He zips his jumpsuit back up as he turns around.

“I suppose.” Though the plan was also supposed to be that there would be no more secrets between the crew. “What plan of yours does it play into?”

“The one where Jimin doesn’t realize I’m in love with him.”

Of course, Taehyung is in love with Jimin. That makes so much more sense. They’ve been so close for so long. And Taehyung has always paid very close attention to anything going on with Jimin. “You’ve never tried to tell him?”

Taehyung laughs wryly and shakes his head. “How would that conversation go? Hey man, I know we’ve known each other for years and I’ve already seen you naked and that you just think of me as a friend, but I’m in love with you. I know that’s awkward but now you have to spend the next twelve years with me, knowing that I’m attracted to you when you don’t feel the same way.” Taehyung sighs. “Doesn’t sound like a good plan to me. If he doesn’t feel the same way, I’ve ruined the friendship for nothing and then I don’t even have that.”

“Yeah… I get that.”  There’s something touching about realizing that Taehyung has been fighting the same battle as you for the last two years.

“I couldn’t tell anyone before launch because what if they wouldn’t let me go then? You know?”

“Yeah, the director wasn’t big on sending anyone who might ‘complicate’ the mission.” The two of you share a sad knowing smile.

“Yeah… And I thought it would be fine, you know? I like women too. I’d just date women until launch and no one would know. I wasn’t planning on falling in love with my roommate.”

“I don’t think any of us knew what this would be like.”

“I knew it was going to be a problem. I should have pulled out…” he continues.

Your mind flashes back to your own moment of doubt when Hoseok talked you into still coming on the mission.

Taehyung sighs and leans against the ice drill. “But I couldn’t just let him go off into space without me. Even if he’d never feel the same way, at least he’d still be in my life.”

The emotion in Taehyung’s words makes your eyes begin to mist. “You really love him.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung sighs again. “But he’s in love with you.”

“Well, he thinks he is.”

“What does that mean?”

“He only feels that way about me cause he thinks I’m the only option.”  Maybe he would feel differently if he knew about Taehyung’s feelings.

Taehyung frowns and shakes his head. “You don’t give him enough credit.”

“Oh come on, you know him. How many women did he date while we were in training?”

“A few…”

“And how many of them was he in love with before he found the next one?”  

Taehyung purses his lips. He can’t argue with that. “So why are you with him then, if you don’t think it’s real?”

You shrug, rubbing your arm. “I like him. Lord knows he’s attractive. And he wants me. It’s nice to feel wanted, I guess.”

“You could have that with any man on this ship though...”

You scoff. “They’re all suffering the same delusion. It’s only-available-vagina syndrome. I just want us all to fuck and get it out in the open. Maybe if we could get it out of our system, they would see I’m nothing special. And then we can get back to the mission.”

Taehyung eyes you up and down. “You don’t give yourself enough credit either.”

You shrug. “You wait and see. Jimin will get bored of me. They all will.”

Taehyung pulls his tablet back out of his pocket. “Do you really think that if everyone just like, banged it out, that it would help morale?”

“Well, it certainly couldn’t get any worse.”

“And Jimin thinks I’m in love with you?” He reopens the HR form and stares at it.

You nod.

“What if I signed this? And we let him think that for a little longer? Just until I figure out how to tell him the truth?

“Like we’d pretend the two of us are involved?” Maybe that would help you get the other men on board with your plan.

Taehyung nods. “Would that be okay?”

“Yeah, that would work.”

Taehyung smiles and signs the bottom of the form, then sends it to you. “Thank you,” he says before he leaves you to resume your workout.

______

Other than Taehyung, no one else approaches you over the next few days. If anything, the crew seems to be treating you more professionally than they did before you announced your plan to fuck them all. You have signed forms from Jimin and Taehyung and have been rejected by Namjoon and Hoseok, but you’ve heard nothing either way from the other three. What are they waiting for?

By the time you reach the end of the Monday morning weekly meeting, you’ve had enough waiting.

Namjoon finishes his debrief of the week’s goals and claps his hands. “Anyone have anything else mission related we need to discuss?”

“My period is over,” you announce to your assembled crew.

A muscle pulses in Namjoon’s jaw. “Officer, I wouldn’t consider that mission-related.”

You cross your arms and lean back in your chair. “Just freely sharing information.”

“Already?” Jungkook asks. “I thought you said it would take a week.”

“No, finished this morning. It varies a bit from cycle to cycle.” you answer. Hoseok’s leg begins aggressively bouncing up and down next to you, but you press on. “I need to make a schedule. So I need to know who’s in and who’s out.”

“Ooh, what if you shared out your tracker info so we’re all on the same page.” Taehyung enthuses.

Yoongi scoffs. “Why don’t we just add it to our mission task list then?”

“I’m not clear on why menstruating means we can’t have sex,” Jimin interjects.

“Enough!” Namjoon regains everyone’s attention. “We need clear boundaries between what is personal and what is professional. Right now, you all have jobs to do. Dismissed.”

________

By the time you finish your chores for the day, you have convinced yourself that getting the rest of the team on board is essential to your successful completion of the mission. So you go in search of Yoongi.

You find him in his workshop. Pieces of an air filter are spread out on the workbench and he’s in the middle of cleaning it. You had forgotten that is the actual purpose of the workbench. So much for climbing on top of it and seducing him that way.

He looks up when you enter and you decide to cut to the chase. “I haven’t gotten your HR form yet.”

“Yeah…” He goes back to inspecting the clogged tube in front of him.

“You said you wanted to sign one with me.”

“I did say that, yes.”

“And now you don’t?” You thought if anyone was going to be supportive of the plan, it would be Yoongi.

He sets down the part he had been inspecting. “Have you really thought this through?”

“Yes!” You put your hands on your hips. “I made a whole powerpoint! With sources!!”

“I think it's a bad plan.” He picks up another long tube full of dust and threads a brush through it.

“I thought you’d be onboard with this plan. You said if I was fucking everyone, there’s no need for jealousy.”

“Yeah, well, I was wrong.” He sets the tube down and turns around to look at you directly. “ Is that really what you want?”

Why is he questioning you now? He was the one who put this whole idea in your head. He was the one who knew all your fantasies. “But you said…"

“I know what I said.” He begins pacing back and forth in front of the workbench. “But there’s a difference between a fantasy and a reality. You really want to have sex with a different man every day for 12 years on some kind of rotating daily schedule? Like how we water the crops?”

“You’re mad there’s a schedule?” You try to come closer to him, but he backs away from you, turning back to the air filter.

“Sexual desire doesn’t run on a clock, you know,” he says as he starts to pack up the equipment. “What if you’re not feeling it that day? What if they’re not?”

“I’m just trying to be fair to everyone.”

“But nobody actually gets what they want!” He throws his hands up in exasperation.

“And what do you want, Yoongi?”

He pauses, then deflates, dropping his hands to his sides. “Nevermind, forget about it.” He grabs a wet wipe off the shelf and begins cleaning the dust of his hands, not looking at you.

“No!” He’s the one who has been egging you on this whole time. “You were the one who was all ‘you have to fuck Jimin to save the mission’. You said you didn’t care if I fucked Jimin too. What do you want from me, Min Yoongi?”

“I’m going to go get some dinner.” He mutters, throwing the dirty wipe in the trash and turning to leave.

Oh no. He’s not going to escape you that easily. You need some straight answers. “You started all this, Yoongi! You said every man on this ship wanted to fuck me and none of them do! What was that?” You follow him down the hall toward the kitchen.

He stops and turns around in the middle of the hall. “This isn’t all on me! You made choices too!”

“Because of what I thought you wanted!” you yell back. “What is your deal? First you want me to fuck you, then you dont. Then you want me to fuck everyone and then you don’t. What do you want from me?” Your voice is echoing down the hallway but you are way past caring about it.

Yoongi opens and closes his mouth, then spins back around and heads for the kitchen, with you trailing behind him.

Jungkook is sitting at the kitchen table with a bowl of ramen. He looks up, startled as the two of you barge in.

“And what about you?” You fire the question at your youngest crew member. “Don’t you want to fuck me?”

The poor boy nearly chokes on his noodles. “I, um…” He swallows, wide eyes glancing between you and Yoongi.

You lean against the table next to Jungkook as Yoongi steps around the two of you to head for the pantry, but you see his fist clench as he walks by. You lean closer to Jungkook. “Didn’t you enjoy my video? Don’t you want to see the real thing?”

“Uh...” Jungkook glances at Yoongi again. “Maybe the two of you should talk this out…”

Yoongi’s hands tremble, but he doesn’t turn around, intent on starting the rice cooker. You turn your focus to Jungkook instead. “This isn’t about him. Whatever the flight engineer wants to do is up to him. He knows where I stand. This is about you and I.”  You are going to get a man on this ship to fuck you. Today.

“It’s not like I’m not interested…” Jungkook’s knee bounces up and down rapidly as he watches you. “But I told you I was in love with you and you literally had a panic attack.”

Oh right. That was back when you thought you still had a shot of stopping all this. Before half your crew had seen you naked. Before all of them had heard you having sex. Before you’d announced that you wanted all of them to fuck you. But you can still control this, if you can get them onboard with your plan.

Your tablet buzzes in your pocket. You pull it out to give yourself a moment to think. There’s a message from Jin.

Hey, come find me when you get this and we can talk. I’ll be in the kitchen.

You brace yourself for yet another rejection note. But you click on the attachment to instead find your HR form, Kim Seokjin’s signature scrawled right next to yours.

Holy shit. He signed it. Under no false pretenses. What do you do now?

“What is it?” Jungkook asks.  

But then Jin appears in the doorway. He startles when he sees you. “Oh! I thought you’d still be on shift.”

You shake your head. “You signed the form.”

“What? He did?” Jungkook asks.

“Oh, um, yeah,” Jin answers, laughing nervously. “That’s what you wanted right?”

“Yes, that’s what I wanted.” You stand up and move closer to your pilot. Jungkook crosses his arms. Yoongi finally turns around to observe the three of you.

Jin. Jin with his broad-shoulders and plump lips. Your friend. Your very handsome friend. He’s going to help you save the mission.

“You’re the first one I’ve gotten, so you can go first.”

“Wait, what?” Jin stammers. “But you and the commander?”

You shake your head. “He didn’t sign.”

“You and Taehyung though? I saw him take off his shirt and then cover the camera.”

“Oh right… sorry… I guess you’re the second one. But Tae’s still on shift.”

“Don’t forget about Jimin.” Yoongi helpfully chimes in.

Jin takes a step backward. “But I thought for sure these two…” He gestures at the other two men in the kitchen.

“Nope,” you move toward him. “Not yet.” You suddenly see a way to get them all on board at once.

“Oh, well, um...” His ears are bright red. “Maybe we can talk more about this after dinner?”

“That’s one option…” You lick your lips and find the top of your zipper with your hand, blushing as the next part of your plan unfolds in your mind. “Or you could fuck me now.”

“What?”

“Holy shit.” Jungkook mutters beside you.

Jin dives around you, moving toward the other side of the kitchen. “There are people eating here!”

“Nothing they haven’t seen before.” You begin unzipping your jumpsuit in what you hope is a seductive manner, rolling your hips as you follow him across the kitchen. You have both Jungkook and Yoongi’s rapt attention.

You take a cue from Taehyung and peel off your tank top, throwing it over the camera behind you, leaving you in a bra and the bottom half of your jumpsuit. “Though if these two are going to stay and watch, they better sign the forms as well.”

“Stay and watch?” Jin swallows, hands clenched at his sides.

You grab the waist of your jumpsuit, teasing it down just slightly as you make direct eye contact with Jungkook and then Yoongi. “What do you think boys? In or out?”

Jungkook lunges for his tablet. A satisfying ping on your own tablet confirms that this plan is working. Yoongi just crosses his arms and leans back against the counter.

You drop the jumpsuit, leaving you in nothing but your bra and underwear. You prop yourself up on the kitchen table next to Jungkook’s now cold bowl of ramen.

“What are you doing?” Jin asks, whole face beginning to turn red.

“Look…” You shimmy out of your bra straps so that your bra is only held in place by your hand. “I’m going to need you to fuck me right here on this table, Kim Seokjin. For the good of the mission.”

“Why does putting your bare ass on the surface where we eat help the mission?!”

“No more secrets. No more jealousy. Everything will be out in the open. Like the bonobos do.”

Your fingers tease at the clasp of your bra. All three men stare at you. You lock eyes with Yoongi, daring him to look away. Implement with full commitment. You drop your bra to the floor.

“Stop, stop!” Jin moves toward you as you slide your fingers into the band of your underwear. “Just hang on for one second.” He picks up your jumpsuit from the floor and comes closer, draping it around your shoulders in an attempt to cover you. “Look at me.” He grasps your chin and turns your gaze to meet his. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

You lick your lips. “Yes.”

He kisses you, hard. It’s aggressive, urgent even. His hands are on your shoulders, then sliding down your back, pulling you toward him. Your eyes close as you momentarily lose yourself in it. Despite you begging him for it, it still surprises you how insistent he is. His hands keep sliding down your back, until they reach your buttocks, running over the thin cotton of your underwear and scooping you into his arms. You wrap your arms around his shoulders for balance, and then he is lifting off the table.

He breaks out of the kiss to pick you up even higher and then proceeds to throw you over his shoulder.

“Jin! What are you doing?” You kick your feet into the air.

“I am a man, not an ape,” he says, picking up your jumpsuit and bra and tossing them over his other shoulder.  “And if I’m going to fuck you, it’s going to be in the privacy of my own sleep pod, where the only man enjoying it is me.”

He hauls you ass first out into the hallway, with Jungkook and Yoongi both watching wide-eyed as you are carried away.

“I can walk,” you argue as Jin turns for the sleep pods.

“Nope,” replies Jin, readjusting you on his shoulder before carrying you down the hall.

As you reach the junction to the bridge, your ass runs into something warm and firm.

“What the-” says Namjoon. Your whole body flushes hot as you realize you’ve run butt-first into your commanding officer.

“Shit, sorry commander.” Jin laughs. “Excuse us,” Jin says and continues down the hallway, not setting you down or stopping.

Namjoon has pressed himself up against the wall with his hands in the air, a look of shock on his face. He looks like he is about to say something, but then Jin reaches his sleep pod and sets you down inside and you can’t see the commander anymore.

“Well, that was the best thing that has happened in a long time.” Jin chuckles as he closes the door. “The looks on Namjoon’s and Jungkook’s faces will power me for a year. You okay?” he asks, handing your bra and jumpsuit. “For the record, I’m not expecting anything else to happen here.”

“You don’t want to do anything else?” You hold up your jumpsuit to cover yourself, more disappointed than you would like to admit.

Jin eyes you up and down. “I mean… I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t interested, but that wasn’t my intention in bringing you here.”

“You hauled me half-naked to your bedroom and your intention wasn’t to have sex?”

“I know, I am such a gentleman, aren’t I?” He laughs, then shrugs. “Seemed like maybe you needed an out. Things were getting kind of crazy back there.”

“But you signed the form? Doesn’t that imply a sexual relationship?”

“I guess I’m not really a ‘sex in front of two other men before we’ve even been on a date’ kind of guy.”

“How about a ‘sex in the sleep pods’ kind of guy?”

“Are you even actually interested in me?” Jin asks, getting more serious. “Because none of what happened in the kitchen felt like it was about me. I don’t want to be some pawn in your plot to make Yoongi jealous.”

“It’s not about Yoongi!” You groan. “Why does everyone think this is about Yoongi?”

“Have you seen the two of you interact recently? There are some seriously repressed feelings going on there.”

You bang your head into the door of the sleep pod in frustration, before looking up at him. “You’re a very attractive man. Maybe I have feelings for you?”

He sighs. “Yeah, but you don’t. You can’t swap us out for each other.”

Shit. The way you’ve been treating the men is exactly how you feared they would treat you. While you fear being wanted because you’re the only woman, you’ve made all the men on the ship feel as though you think them interchangeable simply because they’re men.

“It never occurred to me that any of you would have real feelings for me.”

“Well, you are very dumb.”

“Hey…” You hit him gently on the chest. He catches your hand in his.

“Amazing they would trust such a crucial mission to someone who is so very stupid,” he teases, still holding your hand.

“I’m not this stupid about mission related stuff, just all this relationship crap.” You laugh softly.

“So tragic. Someone with so much training ought to have better sense.”

He squeezes your hand and you look into his eyes again. He smiles a soft reassuring smile and for the first time in weeks, you feel like maybe everything will be okay again at some point in the future.

“You’re a good man, Kim Seokjin.”

“Best man on the ship.” He chuckles.

“Kiss me again.”

He arches his eyebrows. “Why?”

“Because I want you to.”

“Are you sure?”

“Look there’s no one else here right? This is only about you. I want you.”

He kisses you again, tenderly this time. His warm arms wrap around and you realize you’re still naked except for your underwear. You curl into his embrace. He smells good, warm and manly, like good cologne. You run your hands over his muscular shoulders that you can feel through his clothes. It’s slow and leisurely, like you’re savoring each other.

“You sure you’re not a ‘sex in the sleep pods’ kind of guy?” You tease as you slide your thigh in between his legs and feel his erection pressing against you.

He groans, resting his head on your shoulder as you grind against him. “I’d like to think of myself as more of a ‘sex in the sleep pods after the third date’ kind of guy.”

You pause and look up at him surprised. “You want to go on a date?”

He nods. “At least three of them, in fact.”

You smile. “That would be nice. I’d like that.”

He kisses you behind your ear. “So are Mondays my day then? Can I take you on a date next Monday?”

You gasp as he rolls his hips against you, the heat of him seeping through his clothes. “That’s a long time to wait, especially if you’re going to make me wait through three of them.”

“I’m sure we can find other ways to entertain ourselves.” He cups your naked breast in his hand, massaging gently.

“Is there anything in particular you want to do today?” You palm his erection through his pants and he gasps.

“Stop that, you temptress…” He grits his teeth. “I’m trying to be a gentleman.”

“Aww, come on, there must be something I can do for you.”

“Well…” He bites his lip. “I will admit that I am awfully curious what was on that video that got five of my crew members suspended.”

“I could show you.” You start to shimmy down your underwear. “But there was no touching in the video.”

He kisses you one last time on the cheek, before pulling away and pressing himself into the opposite wall of the sleep pod. “Okay, show me. I’ll be good.” He puts his hands up by his head in mock innocence.

You finish removing your underwear, spreading your legs apart as best you can. You trail a hand down between your legs, finding yourself wet already. “It was me masturbating.” You tease around your clit without touching it directly.

He groans, hips kicking forward as he stays up against the wall. “Show me.”

“Well, first I took my fingers and sucked on them.” You narrate your actions as you wet your fingers. “Then I touched my nipples.” Your nipples harden before you’ve even touched them, but you continue to tease them for his benefit.

His eyes dart back and forth between your face, your breasts, and your spread legs, as if he can’t decide where he wants to look first. He licks his lips like a man starving. “Keep going.”

“I’m very wet.” You continue your narration as he clenches his fists. You run your fingers through your wet folds, then hold them up to show him. His hips buck again as he groans, still fully dressed and pressed to the wall. “And then I touched my clitoris.” It’s your turn to moan as you finally touch your swollen pleasure center, stroking slowly and keeping your eyes fixed on Jin.

“Goddamn…” He drops to his knees, hands resting at his sides, eyes fixed on your hand as it strokes around your clit.

“Do you wish it was your fingers right now, instead of mine?” you ask.

He nods, tongue darting out of the corner of his mouth. He begins inching toward you on his knees. “Do you think… maybe…?”

“I thought we said no touching,” you tease when he gets to your feet, his head level with your hand, eyes fixed on your wet cunt as you continue to touch yourself.

“I just…” His eyes flick up to meet yours. “I want to smell you.” A pulse of arousal rocks through you at how eager he is. You nod. He moves his nose right over your pubic mound and inhales a long slow savoring breath, tickling your hairs.

“Ah…” He releases a long, loud satisfied moan. His knuckles turn white, but his face is relaxed. “You smell amazing.” He inches even closer, just millimeters separating you from his face and inhales again.

“Oh shit.” You feel the pleasure skyrocketing as your orgasm catches you off guard. You grab him by the back of the head to stabilize yourself and his nose bumps firmly against your clit.

He groans again, loudly right against you as he grinds his nose into you, letting you ride his face as your orgasm washes over you. You thread your fingers through his hair to hold him in place. He wraps his hands around the back of your thighs to press himself into you harder. You cry out as waves of muscle contraction course through you over and over.

“Fuck…” you both say in unison as you collapse back against the door. Your eyes meet and you both start laughing. He places a light kiss right below your belly button before he gets up.

“Well, I see why that was worth getting suspended for,” he says, unzipping his jumpsuit and using the bottom of his shirt to wipe his face.

“And you didn’t even come yet.” You slide your underwear back up, wondering if he would consider a blowjob to be a step too far before your first date.

“Um, actually…” he gestures down at his crotch and the new wet spot you find there makes your pelvic muscles clench.

“You came in your pants? Over me?”

Jin laughs. “God, you have no idea how sexy you are, do you?” He picks up your clothing off the floor, before kissing you softly on the forehead. “I will have a hard time waiting for Monday.”

“Me too.” You mutter and get a sudden sinking feeling. You don’t want this to be over right now. You want to stay here with him, to cuddle and be held by him, but you have made this very clear to everyone involved that these dalliances are not relationships. It’s just sex. And now the sex is over. Until next week.

You slip back into your clothes and give him one last kiss. You tablet pings as you head out into the hallway and you fish it out of your pocket.

Yoongi: Okay, I’m in.

Below his message is his signed HR form. A swell of smug satisfaction makes you smile as you cross the hall and climb into your own pod. You open up a group message for the five men whose signed forms you now have in your possession and type out the following:

Mondays: Jin

Tuesdays: Jungkook

Wednesdays: Taehyung

Thursdays: Jimin

Fridays: Yoongi

“Saturday and Sunday to be determined,” you whisper to yourself as you hit send.

____

Next part

[southslates]

I'm a Zutara stan but I sometimes think Aang and Mai were what Katara and Zuko needed at one point. I just refuse to believe those relationships were a complete disaster for the both of them. I sometimes laugh/cringe at how salty some fics are towards their exes (because Zutara is canon!!) but I get it.. Zutara is treated much worse.

I get it and I would actually agree that there was merit to having them date at some point.

I graduated high school last week and with adulthood on the horizon, almost every single couple I know has broken up or is on the verge of breaking up. Sure, there are a few that are sticking it out and I'm sure that a few will make it past college and whatever comes next, but that amount will definitely be minuscule. The reality is most couples from grade school don't end up together--but that doesn't mean that those relationships are pointless, right? There's fundamentally a lot you can learn in a young relationship about yourself and what you want in your other relationships as you become an adult.

What bothers me about the endgame couples in ATLA is how young they are and how quickly they dedicate themselves to each other. Katara and Aang are generously the equivalents to a thirteen and fifteen-year-old, and Zuko and Mai are more like seventeen-year-olds. Because of that, I'd say the latter had more of a shot at making it, but still, that's super young.

And the fact that Katara is like, fifteen or sixteen in the comics and running around the world fully dedicated to her fourteen-year-old boyfriend? She's fifteen, her boyfriend should be secondary to her own growth.

But yeah, I agree that there was never anything wrong with Katara dating Aang and Zuko dating Mai. They were caught up in a war and maybe at some point Katara needed to date someone who gave her hope, and Zuko needed to be with someone who understood the societal pressure of being Fire Nation nobility. But that doesn't mean that they were compatible life partners, you know?

The most common criticism I see of Zutara that isn't flat out your ship is for teenage girls who love bad boys is that they wouldn't work because they're too similarly passionate. I think that this stems from The Southern Raiders which most Zutarians interpret as Zuko helping Katara get the revenge she needed, but a lot of other people see him encouraging her tendency to get carried away.

Katara and Zuko both often make brash decisions based on their own moral compasses and I like that. I think that similarity might have been an issue over some of ATLA and while they're young but as they grow (because they're literal young teens in ATLA) it could have been exactly what the world needed from young leaders.

And that's really why I believe they should be endgame because the whole opposite-personalties attract and "Aang and Mai keep Katara and Zuko in check" thing might be important and relevant when they're young but in the long run, matching personalities can compromise and understand each other better.

I'm not wholly Anti-Kataang and Anti-Maiko from what we see in the show, but I don't like the way the relationships are seen to progress. Aang is pushy with Katara in ATLA and then he never grows out of it and Katara just accepts it. And Zuko and Mai start to break apart and don't reconcile their differences (all this to say I haven't read the comics entirely and I do think Mai and Zuko definitely could have grown into a healthier relationship, we just don't see that). Maybe if the show had ended with Zutara I wouldn't have liked it because Zuko and Katara weren't ready to date at the end of ATLA. None of these characters were, they needed to deal with the trauma of the war and build healthy friendships and relationships with their families.

I'm sorry this answer is so ranty, I'm just getting out my feelings. I really hope the live action ATLA ends with no established relationships for any of these characters so that it's all open to interpretation. I just can't see how a bunch of relationships forged in wartime between twelve to sixteen-year-olds supposedly were all meant to be.

[palmtreepalmtree]

I lost a very close online friend this morning. Her death was sudden and unexpected. I say 'online' because that's how we met and much of our friendship was long-distance. But Leslie was very much a present person in my life for the past 15 years. And now she's gone.

There were good long stretches of our friendship where we talked on the phone practically every day. She's kept me company on long drives up and down the California coast and on short trips to the supermarket. We never seemed to run out of things to talk about, Leslie and I.

She supported me through law school and losing my dad. I think it's possible she understood me better than almost anyone else in my life, save a few of my closest friends.

Leslie was a private person. There were things she still kept from me, no matter how close we became. I don't think she wanted me to know how much pain she was in and how much her mobility was diminishing. But I know that over the years that we knew each other, her life had gotten increasingly difficult. I know that our friendship began because we started to write collaboratively together online, but she quit typing and using a computer about seven years ago because it was too painful. And in the most recent months, holding the phone so she could talk was becoming a burden.

She grew up in New Orleans where she went to Catholic school, a difficult environment for someone who was queer. Though she had fond memories of New Orleans and beautiful stories about her life there, including time spent with a loving grandmother, her childhood was not an easy one.

Most of her life she spent in Texas. When she was able, she worked as a veterinary technician, and carried that care for animals throughout her life. She had compassion for all living things. She was passionate about progressive politics and social justice and protecting queer youth.

Leslie was incredibly creative and witty. For every good story idea I had, she had three more. She was full of clever quips. We spent a lot of nights laughing together. In our little writing community, her characters and her stories were always some of the most popular and engaging.

And she was a kind and generous writing partner. When we first started writing together, I was young and perfectly happy to write heart-wrenching stories about terrible things happening to our characters. But as I got older, and the heart-wrenching things started to happen to me and the people I cared about in my real life, my appetite for that sort of writing disappeared. I didn't want to do it anymore. And Leslie never complained or was disappointed. She just supported me and together we found new ways to have fun together and write other types of interesting things.

She was a tremendous friend. She was an incredible listener and an enthusiastic supporter. She was the sort of person who always remembered to tell me the new thing from the supermarket she thought I'd really like, or the new recipe she thought I'd want to try, or the new show she thought I'd love. She was usually right.

Leslie is survived by two sisters and a niece and nephew. She was not particularly close to her family. But she is deeply missed by her housemate who was devoted to her and took such good care of her, and the small San Antonio community that welcomed her as a part of their family and with whom she spent her holidays. Her housemate's dog is still looking for her hoping to keep her company.

I don't think I can fully capture what a wonderful, lovely, loving person this was. I'm heartbroken.

[heir-less]

Sussex squad and Wales stans have extreme views on W&K marriage. On one hand the two hate each other and are barely able to tolerate each other and on the other hand two college sweethearts still in love after close to 20 years together, I don't think any of it true.

First I don't think the two were ever truly in love. I think they loved each other and William saw in Kate a woman who would conform and fit into his idea of a consort and Kate wanted the position. I don't think she was the last one standing or a default choice like some of her critics like to say. In the first few years you can see the complicity, the friendship between them.

At the same time William cold and snappy behavior that we see more of now has always been there but she would roll her eyes at him give him side eyes none of this now.

Something obviously happened I'm not sure it's about a specific affair ( because I don't think he's ever been really faithful to her). They're never been really lovey dovey but there was a warmth between them that's rare to see nowadays. They're more distant and cold and act like co workers.

I feel that both sides look to feel vindicated on the state of William and Kate's marriage. Waleses are constantly looking for PDA and signs of a fourth pregnancy because it would confirm that William and Kate are living a happy family life without the Sussexes, a future King with his adoring future Queen. On the other hand, I feel like people who resonate with the Sussexes really, really want the Waleses to "get theirs". The marriage is in trouble due to cheating or a mutual dislike would vindicate them by proving that Harry and Meghan's main detractors who are often touted as superior are actually misreable together.

I think William and Kate probably did love each other and got along well, but in a way that was savvier than most regular couples, where this is a transaction of status and desires between the two. I don't think William would have strung Kate along for almost a decade if he didn't care about her. People say that William was grooming her to make sure she was "Queen material" but there are hundreds of Sloane Ranger-types from high-born families who would have instantly understood the assignment and conformed, like you say. William probably would have had an easier time with someone born into the same class bracket as him. However, I think William specifically wanted Kate for the role and was willing to draw out the relationship until he felt she was ready. Kate, obviously spent a lot of time conforming to William and making herself presentable.

I'm personally not into body language analysis and I fully admit that my perspective is biased, but in recent years I think William has been really cold and neglectful towards Kate publicly. I'm not sure what has triggered this, if he wasn't faithful or what, but I get frustrated watching them as a couple nowadays because it feels so one-sided to me. Kate is always the one to wait for William, to look at him, to consider his presence, and she's given almost nothing in return. There have been moments where Kate shows attitude or distaste with him, but they seem like rare displays of frustration with William they seem unprovoked and constant. Like you said, there was a warmth and natural compatibility that was present in the earlier years of their marriage. Now, it's just gone.

Also, it's paired with this hint-hint-nudge-nudge style of reporting from the ROTA and other commentators that is very passive-aggressive and snarky about the state of the Wales's marriage. Not to mention, the response from the palace to rumours about marriage breakdowns has been anything but dignified silence, in fact they sort of botched the way these rumours have been handled by threatening legal action and demanding things mentioning Rose get edited/removed. It's this combination of things that raises my suspicions.

I don't really hope to see Wales's marriage fall apart (I don't hope that for anyone, really, it's just sad) because it will literally make things worse for everyone in the royal family, including three young children and even Meghan tangentially because she is blamed for literally everything that goes wrong (remember when Autumn left Peter Phillips and it was dubbed that she was "following Meghan's lead"?). Right now, however, things are just painful and I have no idea how Wales stans (especially the longtime pre-2015 girls) are getting the same satisfaction watching them. When you're not focusing on how stiff and lifeless they are as a couple, you're focusing on them sucking at acknowledging deeper social issues like racism and colonization and poverty. It's just painful.

[andreafmn]

Choices - Part 1

Word Count: 3,913

Requested: by me; inspired by a TikTok POV

Story Description: After the snap (Y/N) and Steve decided to shift their friendship into a romantic relationship. After the Battle of Earth, and Thanos’s ultimate defeat, Steve had to travel back in time to return the stones, but what (Y/N) doesn’t know is he’s not returning. The man leaves to his best friend the hard task to break the news to his lover. But what will happen if Steve returns in an unexpected manner? 

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader

Part: 1/3

A/N: I just gotta say I only have spoiled knowledge of what happens in Endgame because I refuse to acknowledge its existence and I’ll never watch it. Anything I write that is not cannon, whoops. But this one-shot is inspired by a POV I stumbled upon in TikTok and I just needed to write. Had to divide it into two parts because it was getting too long.

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                                                        ***

 It had taken 6 years and losing almost everyone we loved for Steve and me to admit our feelings for each other. After seeing our closest friends dissipate into fine dust we decided life was too short to wait for the right time. 

That was 5 years ago. Our relationship had been solidified as the years went on and the loss of Nat and Tony in the Battle of Earth only bringing us closer.

But something had changed. These past few days Steve had grown distant and quiet, only acknowledging me when we were in our bedroom or stuck in training. All I could attribute it to was that he was nervous about traveling to return the stones. Normally, he would talk to me about what was clouding his mind but nowadays he was acting as if we were strangers. 

Thankfully, I had a friend to occupy my time with. Bucky and I had developed a close friendship since meeting him back when he still was the Winter Soldier. Being part of his recovery was the catalyst to the relationship we have today. Losing him in the blip was horribly heartbreaking but it brought me and Steve closer. Now that he was back, I was able to have someone I could confide in the understood the Captain’s brain. 

“Hey, Buck,” I announced my arrival as I saw Bucky getting some water in the kitchen. “Couldn’t sleep?” 

“Not really,” he sighed. “The nightmares, you know?” 

He was right, I did know. Although I wasn’t blipped I had my own demons I was still battling with. “Yeah, I get it. I’m making grilled cheese, do you want some?” 

“Grilled cheese? At 3 am?” He chuckled. “What’s wrong?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Come on, (Y/N). You only eat grilled cheese at this time when you’re worried about something.”

“You know me too well,” I sighed. “It’s Steve. He’s been really weird this past few days.” 

“Weird how?”

“He’s been kinda avoiding me lately and I don’t know why.” A few tears were threatening to spill, but I did my best to dry them before they fell. “It’s like nothing I do is good enough, like he’d rather be anywhere but close to me. Does he hate me? Is it something I did?” 

Bucky got up from the chair he was sat in and wrapped me in a hug. I couldn’t hold off the tears this time. “There’s nothing you could do that would make that man hate you, he’s probably just in his head about traveling in time.” 

“I thought so, but why wouldn’t he talk to me about it. There’s not a single thing we haven’t been able to talk about up to ‘til now. What’s so important about this that he can’t talk to me about it.” 

“Don’t stress yourself over this, doll. I’m sure after tomorrow everything would go back to how it was.”

Bucky’s POV

And at that time I did believe it. Knowing Steve I really thought he was just nervous about the journey he had to take in the morning. That was until he said he needed to talk with me. 

“What is it, punk? You too nervous?” I chuckled until I saw the serious face he held. 

“I need a favor from you, Buck, and you might not like it.” 

“You’re scaring me, Steve. What’s wrong?” I couldn’t help but think that this had to do with why he was avoiding (Y/N). 

“When I go back today, I’m not coming back in 5 seconds.” 

“What are you talking about, Steve?” 

“I’m going to stay back and have a life with Peggy. This is my last chance to be with her and I’m taking it,” he ran his hands through his face. He knew what he was asking of me and he knew it wasn’t fair. “I need you to tell (Y/N) for me once I’m gone. She’s gonna need someone to lean on and I need it to be you.” 

“You can’t do that, Rogers. It’s not fair to me and it’s definitely not fair to her. (Y/N) loves you with her whole being. This is going to crush her.” He had been ignoring her out of guilt and he was leaving all these feelings behind in a couple of hours, leaving me to deal with the aftermath. “You know, she’s been beating herself over you avoiding her and I thought it was just nerves. But this is a new low; the Steve I know would never do this.” 

“Bucky, I’m sorry. I just think it’ll go over quicker if it comes from you.” 

“What you’re doing is cleaning your hands of a mess you’re making.” The anger was boiling inside of me by now. (Y/N) did not deserve this ending, she did not deserve to have her heart broken in such a cowardly way. 

“Please, Bucky. I don’t think I could tell her face to face.” He took a paper out of his back pocket. “I wrote her this letter, hopefully, it’ll help things to smooth over. Please, Buck, please. You have to believe me when I tell you the last thing I want to do is hurt her.”

I snatched the letter from his hands and guarded it in my jacket pocket. “I’ll do it only because I owe you my life and she’ll need someone once I break her heart for you. But, I get it.” 

“Thanks, bud. I know that for now, it must seem like a horrible thing to do but hopefully in time you’ll see my point of view.” I accepted the hug he offered. Although my head was telling me to be loyal to Steve, my heart was breaking at the thought of breaking (Y/N)’s. 

Before I knew it, Sam, Bruce, (Y/N), Steve, and I were standing in front of the machine that would be the catalyst of inevitable heartbreak. 

3rd person’s POV

“Well, this is it,” Steve whispered. They were standing to the right as Banner made sure everything was ready for Steve’s trip. 

“You know, it’s not too late to back out,” (Y/N)’s hands traveled to his chest. “We can have someone else go.” 

“It has to be me, (Y/N). But I’ll be back before you know it, doll.” His head lowered and left a deep kiss on her lips. They lingered for longer than usual, and she couldn’t help but imagine that there was an underlying message to it. “You know I love you, right? And I would never do anything to purposely hurt you, right?”

“Of course, Steve. I love you, too.” (Y/N) smiled and kissed him once more, allowing him to engulf her in a tight hug. “Be careful, okay? I can’t lose you too.” 

“I will,” he smiled. “Now, I’ve gotta go.”

“I know, be safe.” She smiled once more as she watched Steve get on the machine. She made her way over to Bucky, his arm circling her shoulders. “It’s just 5 seconds, right?” 

“Yup,” he smiled, ignoring the burning sensation coming from the paper inside his jacket. “Just five seconds.”

“Ready, Cap?” asked Bruce from behind the control panel. Steve nodded, one hand on Mjolnir and another on the case that held the Infinity Stones. “Alright, we’ll meet you back here, okay?” 

“You bet,” he responded. Two of the people present knew that it was a lie, but no one else had picked up on it yet. His head was encircled by the helmet and he stared at the two people that meant the most to him in this lifetime. Hurting them was the hardest thing he had to do, but he had been living for everyone else for too long. He decided that it was time to do something for himself. 

“Going quantum in 3, 2, 1,” Bruce announced. A breath hitched in (Y/N)’s throat as the time went down, all she had to do was brace herself for five seconds. Banner hit the button and (Y/N) had to blink various times to fully grasp the disappearance of the man she loved. He had vanished as quick as a thought, one second there and the next just a memory. “And returning in 5... 4... 3... 2... 1....”

Nothing. Bruce clicked the button and nothing happened. The body of Captain America was nowhere in sight. 

“Bruce, what the hell is going on?” (Y/N) spoke up, but she wasn’t sure if her voice was heard. Her mind raced a million miles an hour and she could feel her legs giving out. Had it not been for Bucky’s left arm, she would have crashed to the floor. Bruce stammered with his words, not knowing what to say. “Bucky, where is he, Bucky? Where’s Steve?” 

Bucky knew it would hurt to see her cry, but this was shattering his heart. Her body was falling limp in his arms and the tears were streaming out of her eyes faster than he could dry them. Her words were slurred but he understood the gist of it. She was hurt; she was betrayed; she was beyond heartbroken. 

“Come on, let’s sit down.” Bucky led her to the tent that was propped up behind them. “There’s something you should know.” 

“What is it, Buck?” She sobbed. 

“Please don’t hate me, but Steve is not coming back.” The girl looked up at her friend, not know what emotion she was feeling in the moment. Her tears stopped momentarily, needing to hear the words that would spill from Bucky’s mouth. “Steve decided to go back in time and have a life with Peggy. He needed you to know that he didn’t want to hurt you. He also left you this note.” 

Her shaky hands extended to take hold of the piece of paper Bucky handed her. She dried away the tears that were clouding her eyes and began reading. 

My dearest doll,

 If you are reading this letter, you know I am not coming back. I decided to take hold of the chance to have the life I would’ve had if I stayed in the 40s. I can’t imagine how you’re feeling in this moment, and I’m sorry for all the hurt I know I’m causing you. I need you to know that I never knew I could love someone after Peggy and I’m thankful for all the years we had together. I was in love with you and I still am, but I could not continue on knowing I have a chance to answer one of my biggest ‘what if’s. I could not go on in our life with the weight of my past on our shoulders, you deserve better than that. I hope you can pardon how big of a coward I am being in the moment, I knew I couldn’t do this face-to-face and you deserve at least a worded explanation of why I left. You are strong, amazing, beautiful, and deserving of all the love in the world; I’m sorry I couldn’t provide it. I want you to promise me that you’ll move on and be happy, even if it’s not with me. I also hope you don’t hate Bucky for being the bearer of bad news, he didn’t know until today and I gave him no other choice thant to tell you. If there’s someone that can understand what you are feeling right now, it is him.

I hope one day you will forgive me for this,

I love you until the end of the line.

Steve

She folded the paper back up and broke down once again. Bucky engulfed her in a hug and held her as she shook. “He’s gone, Buck. He went back to be with Peggy. I wasn’t enough for him.” 

“Oh, doll, I’m so sorry.” 

“Guys, we’ve got to head back,” Sam peeked his head through the tent, heartbroken by the view in front of him. “I’ve got her, Buck. Go get the truck started.” 

Bucky released (Y/N) into the arms of Sam Wilson, and left to start the car to head back to the tower. Sam ran his hands over the sobbing girl’s hair trying his best to soothe her. Even though he didn’t fully understand the situation she was in, he got the jist of it. After everything was packed back up, (Y/N) had fallen asleep in Sam’s arms, so he picked her up and laid her on his lap to not wake her. She would be needing all the rest she could get. 

“You guys good back there?” Bucky asked.  

“Yeah, she’s out like a light,” Sam whispered. 

“Good, she’s gonna need all the energy she can get to recover.”

“What happened?” 

“Steve decided to stay back and be with Peggy; left me to tell her the news.” Busky gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles were pale white, his anger building up inside him. 

“Wow, I never expected that from the Cap. I don’t think it’ll be easy for her to move on from this.” He looked down at the sleeping figure in his lap, wiping away the few tears that had slipped out in her slumber. “She might be physically strong, but she’s very sensitive and rarely gets attached.”

“I still don’t understand why he chose to do it this way. The little punk.”

The duo waited until Banner was inside the truck before leaving the spot they were in and back home. Unbeknownst to them, behind the trees, a figure stared at the scene in front of him with a broken heart.

                                                           ***

It had been almost three weeks of robotic movements from (Y/N). She would wake up, sometimes eat, sit in front of a window and stare down the New York skyline; other times she would lay in bed wearing one of Steve’s shirts and sprayed the room with his cologne as she sobbed into his pillow. There were the nights that she drowned her sorrows in a bottle of whatever liquor she could find, until the other members started hiding the bottles. But that didn’t stop her from stashing a couple of bottles in her closet. Nighttime was always the hardest. (Y/N) had grown used to falling asleep in Steve’s arms and being engulfed in his warmth. Now, she thrashed around in a bed that was too big, too cold, and too uncomfortable.

The rest of the team had tried their best to lift her spirits, but nothing seemed to work too well. Sam tried his best to make her favorite meals, which she gave thanks for but rarely ate, pushing the food around in the plate; Bucky tried to entice some emotion by asking her to join him in clearing his list of movies to watch to catch up on the times, but she would zone out for most of the movie; Bruce would ask her to join him in his afternoon reading sessions, but every time she picked up a book she re-read the same page over and over not retaining a single word; Wanda would try her best to get her to partake in normal hygiene practices, which the girl had held off on for a couple of days, only getting her to shower every other day.

(Y/N) was a walking zombie, doing the bare minimum to survive.

But today she had woken up differently, her heart hurting a little less than the other days. She got into the shower, brushed her teeth, and even got dressed in her own clothes. It was three in the afternoon, but she was up. She was detangling her hair when her bedroom door opened.

“You’re awake?” Bucky said, startled to see a clean and awake (Y/N) in front of him. “Don’t mean to sound so surprised, but I came in here with the intention to startle you awake once again.”

The girl chuckled and continued her brushing. “Thought it was time to do something by myself.”

“Here, let me.” Bucky took the brush from her hands and started brushing through her damp hair. It finally smelled of her normal shampoo and conditioner, and not a mix of her hair oils and Steve’s cologne. The smell of strawberries and vanilla emanated from her head and Bucky couldn’t help but breathe in deep. His left hand ran the hairbrush through her hair as his right hand smoothed it down. (Y/N) leaned into his touch and smiled at the comforting strokes he was providing. Unknowingly, Bucky started humming a lullaby under his breath.

“What are you humming?”

“It’s a Russian lullaby I overheard one night while under HYDRAs hold. There’s not much I like to remember from those times, but this I don’t mind.”

“I like it,” she rocked to the movements of his hands and smiled as she listened intently to his humming. She couldn’t see him, but the veteran was smiling at her. It had been the first time she had shown any kind of emotion in the time that had elapsed. He finished her hair in a sloppy braid, not fully understanding the mechanics of the three-strand braid. “Thank you, Buck.”

“How’re you feeling today, (Y/N)?” He finally asked.

“I’m feeling better, don’t know how long it will take to get me to 100% but I’m feeling like a 45% today.”

“That’s good to hear, you know. It’s better than where we started.” He wrapped his arms around her from behind and she leaned into him, enjoying the warmth his body emanated. “So, what do you want to do today?”

“Have not gotten up to that point.”

“Well, Sam’s already cooking up something in the kitchen and I’m on the second movie of The Lord of the Rings, so we can watch that one.”

“Okay, that sounds good.” She smiled at the man that was next to her as they exited her room.

The rest of the team had gathered in the kitchen, working on ways to cheer (Y/N) up when they saw her emerge from the hallway with a small smile on her face. Everyone’s jaw fell open when they saw the girl looking partly human and with a spark of energy. It had been a while since she had resembled the (Y/N) they knew and loved.

“Guys, please pick up your mouths off the floor, your eyes do not deceive you.” (Y/N) joked.

“Glad to see you’re alive, (Y/N),” Sam spoke. “Come have some food.” 

She smiled at her friend and sat next to Wanda as Sam placed a plate of chocolate chip pancakes in front of her. Bucky served himself and her a cup of coffee and added the cream and sugar she enjoyed with her drink. She happily munched on the food as the people around her stared in astonishment.

Thankfully, the staring didn’t last long. Wanda and Sam had a quick recon mission and Bruce had some work to finish in the lab, leaving Bucky and (Y/N) to enjoy The Two Towers in peace. Bucky had the curtains drawn and the movie all set up as (Y/N) took out blankets and made a hole between all the pillows that adorned the couch. The duo settled into their spot and bundled themselves in the blankets, settling in for the 226 minutes of the extended version of the movie.

She wasn’t sure at what point in the movie she fell asleep, but she was woken up by Bucky softly shaking her awake. She mumbled something she didn’t even understand, so Bucky decided to carry her to her bed. (Y/N) had burned too much energy by being around too many people too fast. It didn’t seem like a lot but being around the whole team had taken a toll on her. The sun had started to set and so were the last slivers of happiness she had felt.

Bucky set her down on her bed, tucking the blankets around her. He turned to leave when a small hand wrapped around his right wrist. He looked down and saw a teary-eyed (Y/N) looking up at him.

“Stay, please.” Her voice was barely a whisper and it trembled slightly. She was the vision of the heartbreaking scene that had hurt him three weeks ago.

He smiled softly at the girl and went around the bed to climb in. “Today was hard, huh?”

“Yeah, I thought I was ready to go back to normal, but it took too much out of me. I feel so useless.”

“You are far from useless, doll. You’re hurting, darling, we all understand.” He pulled her in close and laid her head on his chest, the thin layer becoming wet with her tears. “It’ll get better someday, that’s the only thing I’m sure of.”

“How do you know?” 

“Because we all do, after a while we all get better.”

“I wish we knew how long a while was. Everything would be easier.” 

“I know, doll, but let’s take it all one day at a time. Just remember you’re not alone. You have me – and the rest of the team.” He cleared his throat trying to disguise the importance she held in his life. Bucky would have never said anything, but he had fallen for the girl. He held her already in high regard for the care she had given to his best friend, but his feelings had started to shift when she started caring for him while they were on the run.

“Thank you, Buck. I don’t know where I would be without you.” She laid a kiss on his chest and drifted to sleep with Bucky’s arm rubbing circles on her back.

One more week had gone by and (Y/N) had grown used to having Bucky sleep with her at night. He had helped her pack away all the things Steve had left in the room – specifically the cologne that still hunted her, – he started waking her up earlier and making sure she got at least two full meals a days before she went to bed, and he made sure that she didn’t spend her nights crying for a man he called his best friend.

All of Bucky’s efforts didn’t go unnoticed. The remaining Avengers had noticed how the ex-assassin cared for the broken girl, going further than the rest of them did. And his feelings for the girl did not fly by the mind-reading witch that currently stared at him preparing lunch for (Y/N).

“When will you tell her how you feel?” The redhead spoke, casually sipping on a cup of coffee.

“What do you mean, Wanda?” 

“What she means is that you’ve been in love with that girl for far too long and it’s time you confess already,” Sam jeered. “Nothing’s stopping you now.”

“Except for the fact that she’s still reeling from my best friend breaking her heart by going back in time and leaving her to be with someone else. I’m sure she’ll be jumping with joy if I confess right now,” he mocked. “Anyways, how did you know?” 

“You’re not very secretive about it,’’ Sam laughed. “You’re always in a sour mood but magically when you’re with her you become someone else. The White Wolf become (Y/N)’s puppy real quick!’’

“I am not that obvious with it.”

“Okay, lil’ pup.”

“Whatever. Anyways, it’s not the right time for that.”

“When will it be the right time then, Bucky?” Wanda inquired.

“I don’t know. But it’s not right now.”  He plated what he was cooking and headed to (Y/N)’s room. The last thing she needed at the moment was a new relationship, even if that’s all Bucky wanted. 

[robininthelabyrinth]

Prompt: Instead of shattering Dad Nie's saber to kill his pride, he shatters Baxia - and thus Nie Mingjue. What better way to punish a man who dared to think anything of his could rival Wen Ruohan? Only, Nie Mingjue survives... and Baxia does too. Of course, sharing Nie Mingjue's body, neither of them is quite the same...

Curse-breaker (Chapter 1/4)

- ao3 -

"I see," Wen Ruohan said, his teeth slightly gritted, his irritation plain and obvious for all to see. "Indeed, I must concede that Sect Leader Nie's saber is finer than the one I own; it is undeniable. Lao Nie, your saber."

He offered it back, plainclothes-wrapped hilt first.

"You do my sect honor," Sect Leader Nie said with a wide grin, accepting the saber. "Our sabers are indeed the finest – and more than that, they get better with each generation. To tell you the truth, my friend: this one isn't mine, but my son's!"

He revealed the hilt, not anything like his own, and laughed, delighted by the joke he had played.

Wen Ruohan’s face contorted, growing pale in what everyone assumed was rage.

It was only later that Lao Nie, at least, recognized that it had been horror.

-

Nie Mingjue was screaming, and had not stopped screaming.

His throat was rent all to pieces, his fingers bloody from clawing at his own flesh, his eyes rolling around in his head as if by some inescapable fit -

"It's a qi deviation," one of the elders said. "Induced by the breaking of his saber. We should take him to the tombs."

"Fuck off," Lao Nie told them, as if saying the words would deny the truth. "He's too young!"

He put himself between them and his son.

"You shouldn't have let him take up the saber so young," the elder persisted, as if it had been Nie Mingjue’s fault that his son’s saber had been shattered by a man a century older than him, and all because of a dispute that had nothing to do with him. "You shouldn't have shown it to others, left it unguarded -"

"Do you think I don't know that?!" Lao Nie roared, abruptly pushed beyond his limits. "Do you think that I don't already regret...!"

He regretted. Oh, how he regretted!

He had not regretted a single thing in his life since the day his father had told him that he would one day die, and how. Even back then, he had swallowed down the regret without choking on it: he had accepted it, understood it, and resolved to live the life he had left to him to the utmost. What good, he had reasoned, would regret do? Would it win him a single additional day of life? Would it wring out a single ounce of additional joy from the days he did have?

There was no point in regret.

Whether that was the right decision or not, he didn’t know, but it was the one he made, and he stuck with it.

His whole life, Lao Nie had been reckless and carefree even by the already low standards of his family. He was always indulging in familiar pleasures and searching for new experiences, doing whatever he could to excite a palate already starting to grow jaded. He broke hearts as easily as he won them, and had what even he admitted was the worst taste in partners imaginable, attracted as he was to danger and death as if to an old and much-beloved friend. He laughed at the idea of risk or consequences, taking care only for his sect, which he loved; everything else was negotiable, or so he'd thought. He'd scared the wits out of most of his family time and time again, and - perhaps as recompense - had grown his first grey hair dozens of years too early. To this day, he still didn't know whether the reason everyone called him Lao Nie so often that even he thought of himself that way was because they were genuinely fond of him, because of the premature black-and-white mix of his hair, or perhaps just as some unspoken prayer that he finally get over himself and grow up.

If it was the last, it hadn’t worked. Even as he’d gotten older, he hadn’t changed one bit.

The only thing that had changed was that he’d finally found something he loved more than his sect.

He loved his children.

He loved his children, whether the righteous and too-serious Mingjue with his secret penchant for tears or the flippant and carefree Huaisang who was lazier than a slug in the sun. He loved them and he, unlike his father before him, did not burden them over-early with knowledge that would only be an itch under their skin that slowly drove them mad.

He loved them.

And now one of them was dying – because of him.

"You should take him to the tombs," the elder said, and ignored the crash of the chair Lao Nie threw at their head. "You let him become a man of our sect, Lao Nie. Do him the honor of letting him die as one.”

“You…!”

“Or do you think you are being kind, leaving him like this?"

Lao Nie looked down at his son, his Mingjue, the baby he’d held in his arms and the toddler he’d taught to walk and the child he’d chased and the teenager he’d taught the saber. His boy, who was thrashing wildly on the bed, spitting up foam along with blood and weeping uncontrollably.

"A-die," Nie Mingjue whimpered, just as he had when he'd been younger and caught in the throes of fever or breaking a bone through his own misadventures. Tears streamed endlessly down his eyes, his brave little boy who was not-so-secretly a bit of a crybaby. "A-die, a-die, it hurts..."

Lao Nie closed his eyes in pain.

He regretted.

But it was too late now to regret.

"We'll take him to the tombs," he finally conceded, and for the first time in his life he truly felt old. "Just let me say goodbye."

-

If you go to the tombs, you will not come out.

Nie Mingjue might only be a child, thirteen or fourteen years old – he couldn’t remember clearly any longer which it was – but he had been a good student before that, reading faithfully through his sect’s histories and listening to his teachers. He knew enough to read between the lines, to reckon the subtle indications and the not-so-subtle hints: he knew, even before he’d been officially told, what it was that he faced down at the end of the road that his ancestors had built for him to walk.

The early death – the painful death – the silent tombs –

There had been so many whispers when he’d taken up his Baxia too early. How could he not know?

His father hadn’t wanted him to know, though. So he hadn’t said anything, and pretended he didn’t.

(Huaisang could be ignorant for real, he’d thought to himself. It’d be okay if he didn’t know.)

If you go to the tombs, you will not come out. You cannot go to the tombs!

Nie Mingjue opened his eyes.

He no longer screamed, even though the spiritual energy that had once felt rich and nourishing and strong now felt like corrosive acid scouring his veins, burning him from the inside out – it wasn’t that he didn’t want to, wasn’t still compelled too; it was only that he had screamed too much, wearing out his voice down to nothingness from overuse.

If I go to the tombs, I will not come out, he thought, dimly aware that something wasn’t right. Thinking was hard, and grew ever harder: the qi deviation, for that was what it was, was worsening, not getting better.

Would not ever get better.

His Baxia, his loyal saber filled to the brim with resentful energy, had shattered. Shattered, and now all that resentful energy that she had collected for herself had flooded back into him, drowning his brain in rage and madness.

Flooding him with – Baxia.

I cannot go to the tombs.

You cannot go to the tombs, Baxia agreed – at least, he thought it was Baxia. It might be himself: he could no longer tell the difference.

She’d shattered, and he’d shattered, too. His mind and his body and his meridians and his golden core: everything was in pieces. His spiritual energy was running the wrong way, twisting him up inside, hurting instead of helping – the rage and resentful energy wasn’t going into Baxia but coming back into him, and it was poison.

There was no fixing it. His ancestors had tried everything they could: brought in the finest physicians with their needles and their clever ideas, sought out mysterious techniques and strange geniuses that played games even with their golden cores, even tried out demonic cultivation to see if it would help – with their lives and their children’s lives at stake, was there anything they wouldn’t do?

As if it would be that easy.

As if the road to death taken time and time again over the generations could be so easily evaded.

Nie Mingjue was a Nie. He had had a qi deviation. He was going to die.

But he was young, too.

Too young.

They all said that’d he formed his core at an extraordinary young age, and he had, too, verifiable evidence of his unusual genius for cultivating – only a golden core formed too early wasn’t quite the same as one done in the usual way at the usual time. It’d formed all right, all the spiritual liquid flowing through his meridians condensing into a shining solid sphere in his dantian, but it was still a little gummy in comparison to the normal ones. It had to be. He’d formed the core before he’d reached adolescence, without any of the necessary hormones running through his body; if his golden core was as fully solid as most adults, he’d be stuck at the age and size he was at when the core was first formed.

Normally, all this meant was that his foundation would be a little unstable for the first few years, just until he got old enough, and only when he was finally at his proper age would it truly settle into place along with his body, growing firm and solid and far more powerful than all the rest.

But he’d never gotten the chance to grow that old.

Nie Mingjue’s core had cracked when his saber that had been fundamentally tied to it had shattered, but unlike the steel of the saber it was still more fluid than solid. Even as the corrosive resentful energy burned him, even as the spiritual energy rioted within him, his old instincts were still there, that subconscious genius for cultivating already at work, trying to force the spiritual energy to run through him, trying to put those broken pieces back together. For any normal Nie, the greater his talent, the faster he’d be driven mad, but for Nie Mingjue, those gummy pieces of his core, sticky and still fluid, were instead being soldered together using spiritual energy and resentful energy both, and unlike the stiff and brittle solidity of the golden core of adulthood, they were still flexible enough to stick together – to coalesce into a whole once more.

Only –

Nie Mingjue opened his eyes.

He’d already opened them once, and now he opened them again. The world as he had always recognized it, he saw through his left eye – but through his right, there was a whole new world.

It was a world of black and white, of good and evil, a world of kinetic movement, of steel and rage incarnate…the world through the perception of a saber spirit. A saber spirit who had shattered when her steel was shattered, shattered when her master’s core was shattered, and whose pieces were even now integrating interchangeably with her master’s pieces into a single indissoluble whole.

If we go to the tombs, they thought, and now that was it, that was right, we will not come out.

Well, that was simple enough to fix.

They just wouldn’t go to the tombs.

-

“What do you mean, he’s gone?” Nie Huaisang’s father hissed. “He can’t be – he wasn’t in any state – he couldn’t have just gotten up and run away – no, stop, let’s go. I don’t want Huaisang hearing.”

Nie Huaisang hated it when his father remembered to be discreet around him.

His da-ge was never discreet, he thought, pouting. If anything, that was something his father often complained about, even if he would be chuckling all the while: that Nie Mingjue had all the tact of a lady boar in full charge, riled up in defense of her children, and with about as much care for anything that did not meet his stringent expectations of justice and fairness – which was rather a lot.

Where was his da-ge, anyway? Nie Huaisang hadn’t seen him in days, not since he went out on that night hunt with their father. He’d asked his nurse about it, because it was unusual for his brother not to come play with him once he’d returned, and she’d said that he’d gotten sick and couldn’t come to see him just yet. But surely it was long enough that he’d be better already!

Nothing could keep his big brother down for long.

Decided, Nie Huaisang hopped up and headed outside, planning to go find his brother. His brother would explain what was going on, simplifying things down until even a little kid like him could get it, and he wouldn’t make Nie Huaisang feel stupid for needing that simplification.

His brother thought Nie Huaisang was smart.

Nie Huaisang walked along the railing next to his window, teetering back and forth with his hands outstretched for balance – his brother had showed him this pathway long ago, telling him that he could use it when he wanted to sneak out go play or look at birds, or even just come to find him whenever he had nightmares.

His brother wasn’t in his rooms, though.

Nie Huaisang sighed. Maybe he was in the study, or the training field, or something like that, but if Nie Huaisang tried to go there, he’d be dragged into lessons or training as well, and he didn’t want that.

He decided to go look at birds instead.

His brother had come up with a secret path to the outside that only they knew, the two of them, one that led them all the way out into the forest where the really interesting birds were. It was close enough to home that it was still safe, still within the bounds of the Unclean Realm’s protective arrays, but far enough to feel unburdened by the presence of their elders.

Nie Huaisang went to look at birds, but it wasn’t birds he found.

“…who’s there?” he asked, seeing movement in the bushes – something too large to be a bird, too small to be a bear, too two-legged to be a boar or a dog. Whoever it was, they were breathing hard, as if they’d run too far, interspersed with little whines of pain, like they were hurt. “Who are…”

The figure in the bush moved forward.

“…da-ge?”

Nie Huaisang’s big brother didn’t look right. He was crouched down, carrying his body low as if he were trying to support himself and protect his middle at the same time, his fingers digging into the ground for balance – his lips were peeled back from his teeth in something caught between a grimace and a growl. His left eye was normal, but his right was horribly red, shot through with pulsing veins that seemed to bleed into the iris, the color of which had faded from warm golden brown to something more like a slate or steel grey.

He sounded like he was in pain.

His brother was in pain.

Nie Huaisang took a step towards him, deeply concerned, and Nie Mingjue backed away.

“Da-ge,” Nie Huaisang whispered, terrified. “Da-ge, it’s me, it’s Huaisang – I won’t hurt you!”

Nie Mingjue whined, a sound deep in the back of his throat, but this time, when Nie Huaisang stepped forward, he didn’t run. He waited until Nie Huaisang was close before darting forward and nuzzling Nie Huaisang’s hand with his cheek, ducking his head down and letting him touch his hair as if he were a dog.

His brother wasn’t just sick, Nie Huaisang realized. He was reallysick.

“What happened?” he asked, and his brother just looked sad. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?”

His brother nodded. A short jerking motion, barely recognizable, and yet – a nod.

“…do you have to?”

Another nod.

Nie Huaisang’s lip quivered. “Will you be all right?”

His brother nuzzled his palm again. It wasn’t an answer.

Nie Huaisang took a deep breath. “I won’t tell anyone.”

His brother seemed almost to smile.

And then he was gone.

Walking all the way back inside before bursting into tears was the hardest thing Nie Huaisang had ever done in his life, but the worst part was knowing that this was only the beginning.

[yasminbenoit]

“A Romantic Partner Won’t Complete Me, Because I Was Born Complete”: How Identifying As Asexual & Aromantic Brought Me True Freedom & Happiness | Yasmin Benoit for British Vogue

There is a phase in our lives where everyone seems asexual and almost everyone seems aromantic. It wasn't until puberty kicked in that platonic relationships seemed to take a backseat. My peers stopped wanting to play together and started wanting to 'date' each other. That was when I started to realise that there was something different about me. I didn’t seem to be experiencing the same urges as those I was around. I chose to go to an all girls school in the hopes that – in the absence of boys – everyone would stop caring about sex and dating. It actually had the opposite effect. There was a sense of deprivation in the air and the heightened desire to project their sexuality onto anything and everything.  

Therefore, my lack of interest became even more obvious, and it became a not-so-fun game to work out the source of what should be troubling me, but hadn’t been until that point. Having a sexual orientation isn’t just natural, it’s essential. It’s part of being a fully-functional human being. And to be romantically love and be loved by another is the ultimate goal. It’s part of being normal, which made me both abnormal and puzzling. When your asexual, people think there’s something wrong with your body. When you’re aromantic, they think there’s something wrong with your soul. Even for a teenage girl who internalised all of Disney Channel’s “be yourself” messages, it’s never nice to have people publicly debate your supposed physical and psychological flaws.  

My nickname in school was “hollow and emotionless.” I was a joker with a decent amount of friends, but I was lacking something crucial, the kind of love that really mattered and the kind of lust that made life exciting...so I was practically Lord Voldemort with braids. I sat through the regular DIY sexuality tests, having my peers show me graphic sexual imagery, have very sexual conversations in my presence, and ask me inappropriately intimate questions to gauge how far gone I truly was. These tests lead to the development of theories, most centred around me having some kind of mental problem. After a while, you start to wonder if everyone knows something you don’t.

When they said that I must have been molested as a child and “broken” by the trauma, I wondered if I had somehow forgotten about sexual abuse that actually hadn’t happened. I looked at some of my own relatives with suspicion, the same people who would later ask me if I didn’t experience sexual attraction because I was a pedophile. It was suggested that I was “suffering” from my “issues” because I was socially anxious and insecure. The suggestion that my ‘issue’ was pathological stayed with me for a long time, but not as much as the widely accepted theory that I was mentally slow. Unfortunately, that one stuck. I was referred to as “stupid” and I started to believe that was the case. It would impact my experience in education for the next eight years, long after I realised that there was a word for what I was.

Asexual.

I first heard the word during one of the near-daily sexuality tests that I was subjected to. I was asked if I was gay, to which I said that I wasn’t interested in anybody like that – men or women. At fifteen, I was asked, “Maybe you’re asexual or something?” but it wasn’t quite a lightbulb moment. How could it be when I had never heard the word outside of biology class? After an evening of Google searching, I realised that there were many people with my exact same experience, complete strangers whose stories sounded so strangely similar to mine. I also stumbled across the word ‘aromantic,’ but at the time, I didn’t understand the need for it. "Wouldn't all asexual people be aromantic? A romantic relationship without sex is just friendship with rules,” I thought.

Either way, my discoveries showed me that I wasn’t alone, but that only half helpful. I now had an identity that no one had heard of or understood. Most didn’t believe that being asexual or aromantic was a real thing, and I doubted it to. I had been taught to after years of armchair pathologisation. If asexuality was real, why did no one tell you that being sexually attracted to nobody was an option? What if it was just an internet identity made up to comfort people with all of the issues that had been attributed to me? I didn’t have to go far down the rabbit hole to realise that asexuality, like many non-heteronormative identities, had been medicalised. What I had experienced as just the tip of the iceberg. As someone who hadn’t been prescribed drugs I didn’t need or subjected to unnecessary hormone tests, I was one of the lucky ones.

My activism would be my gateway to the community. Despite being the ugly friend at school, I ended up becoming a model while in university. I decided to use the platform I had gained through my career to raise awareness for asexuality and aromanticism. It gave me the opportunity to encounter a range of asexual and aromantic offline, it was then that I learned the significance of having an aromantic identity. There are many asexual people who still feel romantic attraction, as well as aromantic people who still feel sexual attraction. They have their own range of experiences, their own culture, their own flag, and like the asexual community, I was relieved to see that they are just normal people. These intersecting communities are not stereotypes. They weren’t just thirteen year old, pink haired kids making up identities on Tumblr to feel special. They were parents, lawyers, academics, husbands, girlfriends, artists, black, white, young, old, with differing feelings towards the many complex elements of sexuality and intimacy. Most importantly, they were happy.

I am proud to be part of both, and I know that while being asexual and aromantic, I am a complete person and I can live a perfectly fulfilling life. Since meeting members of my communities, I’ve become more open about my identities in real life, and a reaction I’m often met with is sympathy. “You must feel like you’re missing out,” “I can’t imagine being like that,” “It must be hard for your family,” “Do you worry no one will want you?” “How do you handle being so lonely?” “You’re so brave and strong,” “What will you do with your life now?” Even in 2021, a woman who isn’t romantically loved or sexually desired by their “special someone” is perceived as being afflicted with some kind of life-limiting condition.  

Asexuality doesn't make undesirable or unable to desire others. It is a unique experience of sexuality, not a deprivation from it. Even if it was, there is so much more to life than what turns us on and what we do about it. Romantic love is just one form of love, neither superior nor inferior to any other. Being aromantic doesn't mean that you can't love or be loved, it does not mean you are void of other emotions or capabilities. I am not lonely with my friends, family, co-workers and supporters. I feel confident not when someone wants to date me but when I meet my goals and form worthwhile connections with others. My success isn't determined by whether someone will want to marry me someday. What we want out of life is our decision alone, our sources of happiness should not be defined by our ever-changing, culturally relative social standards. The love of a romantic partner won't complete me because I was born complete. Feeling sexual attraction to others won't liberate me because my liberation is not dependent on other people.

Valentine's Day is on the horizon. It's an occasion that amps up the focus on (and the pressure to achieve) a very specific type of love and sexual expression, one that is actually alienating for people inside and outside of the asexual community. During a pandemic where many relationships have been strained, tested, formed or distanced, it's important to keep the diversity of romantic and sexual feelings in mind. Many expect me to feel annoyed or lonely during this time of year, but I actually feel empowered and excited by the way sex, romance and love are discussed more deeply around this time. These conversations are constantly expanding to become more inclusive for everyone, and that's what we need to see all year round.

https://www.vogue.co.uk/arts-and-lifestyle/article/asexuality-and-aromanticism