#((But! I did try! I think having a few generics works in the context of a real fighting game anyway lol))

[king-midas-fortnite]

☭

@antonia-fortnite

Battle Theme: The Matrix - Chateau

Battle Intro: “You were part of that ‘heist crew’ that tried to hit Kado. If you didn’t succeed then, how do you expect this to go?”

Victory: "I did try to warn you."

Defeat: "Hell of an introduction..."

Assist: "Mind if I cut in?"

Dual Strike: "Strike swift, and don't miss!"

Defending: "I'm putting an end to this."

Taunt: "Weren't you dumped by Nolan Chance? Yikes."

Reacting to Taunt: "I put very little stock in your judge of character, given your track record."

Flee: "I'm afraid I'm needed elsewhere."

Reacting to Flee: "You shouldn't start things you can't finish."

Tie: "Interesting...Who's your stylist?"

Perfect Victory: "I don't know what I expected, but not that."

Finishing Move: "In case you get any ideas about stealing from me!"

[lycandrophile]

i clicked on the original tweet just to see if anyone else felt as weird about it as i did because at this point i’m just tired of seeing people going on and on about trans men dating cishet men who try to convince them not to transition as if it’s a funny joke about a trans man doing something silly and not a manipulative and generally very unhealthy relationship dynamic that can hurt the trans man involved really deeply (as forcing someone back into the closet tends to do.)

did i find anyone else feeling that way? no. there were a few people pointing out that it was weird in general, and plenty saying it’s a weird thing to say about a cis woman, but nothing expressing any sort of concern about the tired stereotype it’s perpetuating.

but you know what i did find? replies like the one in the second screenshot, using the tweet as their chance to tell the world how much they hate trans men and how repulsive they find the idea of ever being compared to us. and replies like the third one, shaming trans men in relationships like that as if the fact that they’ve found themselves in an unhealthy relationship makes them deserving of public shaming, as if their relationship is hurting anyone other than them.

stereotypes like this just feel like yet another way of indirectly calling us stupid little girls who don’t know what’s good for us, and the fact that a picture of a woman is being used (even jokingly!) as an example of what trans men “like that” look like should make the implications of rhetoric like this all the more obvious.

it’s relationships like these that keep us miserable in the closet for so long and drive up our sexual assault rates even more. they’re not funny and if anyone is going to be making jokes about them, it certainly shouldn’t be people who have never been in that situation. if you actually cared about us you’d be looking for ways to support the trans men you know who are in relationships like that instead of hopping on twitter to joke about how stupid they must be.

i don’t care if it’s a joke. if it victim blames trans men for the transphobia we face in our personal relationships, adds to the common idea that we can’t be trusted to make decisions about our own lives, and invites even more blatant transphobia against us by people who unabashedly admit they see all trans men as “disgusting and phony”, it’s not fucking funny.

(i also want to note that the people making these jokes never like to mention that this also happens to trans men in relationships with queer women. they also hate those trans men, of course, and are happy to express that when they get into fights about trans men who date lesbians, but they’ll never talk about it in the context of this particular stereotype. it’s always a man being manipulative in a relationship and pressuring trans men to not transition, as if a woman would never be capable of such a thing.

they also like to conveniently ignore the existence of older trans men who transitioned after already being in a committed relationship with a cishet man and were able to make that relationship work despite their transition, because acknowledging that would require recognizing that trans men can be in seemingly contradictory relationships and genuinely be happy with their partner. who needs nuance when you can simply choose to judge all trans men for our relationships regardless of what they’re actually like?)

do you think they also would call me “a trans man being purposefully misgendered” with this kind of vitriol because i’m still living with parents who don’t recognize my gender instead of moving out before i’m ready to be financially independent? at this point, i’m starting to feel like they might, with the way every decision a trans man ever makes is the subject of a public debate and people have decided that trans men are secretly using being misgendered as a weapon to somehow hurt other trans people.

as a general rule, i’d say the only people who should be making “X looks like a trans man” jokes about literally anyone/anything are trans men, and posts like this show exactly why those jokes being made by anyone else (even by other trans people) just isn’t a good idea.

[nnight-dances]

BABYDOLL

PAIRING: choi seungcheol x afab!reader

GENRE: fluff, angst, suggestive (nothing explicit)

TROPES: gym trainer!cheol, office worker!reader, you have INFJ syndrome until you start thirsting for cheol, mutual pining and perversion, wonwoo and lisa besties to lover side plot

LISTEN TO: babydoll by dominic fike

NOTE: unfortunately yes this is based on a brainrot ive been harboring for a real man but since cheol > all other men so here is my way of coping with it! i hope u like it and lmk what u think <3

You liked to think of yourself as a sane person. If anything, you had always had a reputation of having a good head on your shoulders, as the eldest daughter and the ideal student in class. You lived a life of discipline even out of college, waking up early to clean your apartment before you headed out to work and coming back late to a fridge full of meal-prepped tupperwares. 

You're sane. So why is it that you can't bring yourself to behave like it around him?

For some context, you had decided your daily 15-minute walk to your apartment from the subway wasn't cutting it anymore. More than anything, you feel like you needed something more intense for the sake of your stiff body. You'd come home feeling creaky as floorboards and without a concrete plan to keep you in shape, you would end up doing some lousy stretching before hitting the sack.

But today that was going to change. You had enrolled as a member in the nearby gym, a solid place from the looks of it. It was your first time in a gym this fancy, equipped with the best of any machine you could imagine but also an ambient changing room where you looked forward to showering in.

You had come in fully prepared, clad in a workout set that was your favorite shade of green. When you'd pulled it out of your closet after all this time, you felt like the inanimate fabric might actually be thanking you for remembering its existence. You had an adequately sized water bottle that you had set to the side when you'd started your cardio for the day, waiting for the personal trainer the lady at the reception had told you would come meet you in 15.

At exactly the 15 minute mark on your treadmill, you'd felt a presence next to you and to your surprise, it was a man wearing the black shirt everyone working in the gym wore with a little crest on the chest. But this man was particularly… built. You didn't like to be indecent about another person when he had yet to introduce himself but the man before you was right out of your dreams– his shoulders wide, that his shirt did little to hide, and his buff arms that he politely crossed waiting for you to notice him.

You pop the earbud in your left ear out, rushing to turn the treadmill off as you turn to greet him. "Oh, I'm sorry– I didn't see you there– Wait, how did this thing stop–"

"Let me get that for you," the man – the dangerously attractive man – leaned over to press a red button that you should've spotted sooner than you did. The treadmill comes to a stop gradually and you try to think of the different ways you could vanish into thin air.

But then the trainer smiles at your panic-sriken experession revealing his dimples and you think you might faint before you'd had a chance to exercise. "Hi, I'm Seungcheol," he holds out his hand to you when you manage to step off the machine in one piece. "But you can call me Cheol." He points to the name-tag on his shirt– another detail you had missed when you were far too busy being a pervert over the general amazing-ness of his build. The name-tag says cheol in lowercase with a few hand-drawn cherries next to it. 

"I'm Y/N," you say quietly, shaking his hand. "Sorry about that, by the way. I promise I'm not usually such a klutz. It's just my first time here so I'm kinda nervous."

Cheol simply blinks at you, "Nothing wrong with being a klutz. That's why I'm here. And as for being nervous…" He looks around at the rows of people on treadmills and various other cardio machines and shrugs. "You'll get a hang of it. Just follow me."

You don't have time to stand around gaping at Cheol's words so you do as he says, especially because you would rather die than have him think you're clumsy. But despite your effort to look put-together, you find your control slipping on the first machine he brings you to. It looks like it should be simple enough, a seat with handles for back-rows. Yet, when you sit on it, you can't seem to find the right position to start and when you do, it all feels wrong.

Then, Cheol comes up behind, a hand on your lower back pushing your spine up straight. His voice is gentle in your ear and you meet his eye in the mirror in front of you. "Hold still for me. Throw your shoulders back and focus on pulling with your back." 

You do as he says and he gives you a nod of approval. "Remember to breathe," he says, his fingers now on your shoulders, pulling them back to keep them in the right posture. When you're done with the first set, you feel like you've forgotten how to breathe.

"You must be an office-worker," Cheol comments as he lets you take a minute to breathe. 

"You say that like it's a bad thing," you frown.

"It's not the best thing for a person's spine. Makes for a stiff spine and whatnot."

You grimace when his words seem to describe you. "You're right. I can't sit with my spine straight for the life of me. Those back-rows almost sucked the life out of me."

"Then I hope you're ready for two more sets," Cheol chuckles, politely grabbing your precious water bottle out of your hands. "Two more sets," you repeat after him, praying that he actually meant no more sets and said the wrong thing. But he stares at you in the mirror, arms crossed, waiting for you to take your position.

By the time, you're done for the day, you think you might have seen God, with the way Cheol pushes you through the workout, throwing sets of shoulder presses and plank holds at you. He must hate you, you think, wiping the sweat off your neck with a hand towel as you watch him write something down on a notepad you only just noticed. You've been really out of it today, huh?

Still, Cheol's disdain for you aside, you couldn't help but marvel at him. His body was so lithe, lifting weights off the floor for you without a huff and demonstrating the exercises you had to do while narrating the movements like it was nothing. What's more, he had this amazing air of authority about him, not letting you give up on an exercise just because you felt like you couldn't do it. If the last set got physically impossible for you, he'd give you a hand but he didn't let you do anything half-earnestly. In short, he's really fucking cool.

You come to your senses when Cheol says, "All right, that's all for today. Thanks for the hard work." You nod, "Thanks, Cheol." You don't have it in you to say anything about the workout, mainly because you're embarrased at how weak you are so you simply smile an awkward smile and leave the room. 

God knows you were the worst version of yourself in there, the complete opposite of the composed woman you were on the outside. It was mortifying, honestly, to be that helpless and in front of a man you were attracted – that might have been your greatest nightmare realized into reality. 

Which is why you find yourself at the gym a day later, taking a deep breath before greeting the lady. "Hey, I'm here for my PT session," you start and then clearing your throat, you add, "With trainer Cheol?"

The lady looks surprised when she sees you for a split second but then she grins. "Of course, miss L/N. You're just on time." She types rapidly for another second before nodding at you, "Okay, you can start your 15 minutes of cardio and the trainer will meet you there."

You thank her before heading in, finding it a little strange that she looked surprised to see you but shrugging it off when you're welcomed by the lavender-scented changing room. You note to yourself to start buying more scented candles for your house as you place your bag and hoodie in a locker, taking just your bottle out. 

You're a minute from finishing your cardio for the day when you hear your name being called. You turn to find Cheol staring at you with an indecipherable glint in his eyes. His arms are crossed, almost like a signature pose on a game character, muscles glistening under the bright gym lights. You stop the treadmill successfully this time as you wave at him, "Hey!"

"...You're back?"

You frown when you hear the question in his voice, "Yeah? Is that not what I'm supposed to do?"

"I mean…"

"I didn't come in yesterday because I woke up feeling like someone beat me up," you add with a pointed look, "But I think you'll forgive me if your customer retention is that low."

Cheol blinks with a smile gradually consuming his expression. "It's not that– I just didn't expect you to come back because you looked mad when you left last time. And well, office-workers are usually inconsistent so I definitely didn't think I'd see you twice in the same week…"

You cross your arms to match his pose, "I wasn't mad, I was a breath away from dropping dead."

"Right, that makes sense," Cheol agrees proudly and you shake your head, "And you must have a grudge against office-workers."

"I don't. All my friends are office-workers. I've just watched the job suck out all the life out of them so I'm not a fan."

"I think you may have defined the word grudge just now," you point out with a poorly disguised laugh.

Cheol pauses before looking you up and down with a cocked brow. "Someone's in a feisty mood today. I like that, it means you're ready for leg day."

You were not ready for leg day. You used to think that your legs would be strong enough since you'd done your share of squatting and running in your lifetime but faced with Cheol's insane workout set-up, you should've seen this coming. It starts off fine– a normal cycle of squats and lunges. But then he adds weights to the equation, increasing it after each set. Then, he takes you to the machines and makes sure you do each rep right. You have a hard time even walking over to the bench where he wants you to hip thrusts. 

For a moment, Cheol's eyes betray softness. "You good? We can stop here if you want."

But for all your groaning and heaving, you weren't quite ready to give up yet, the adrenaline doing wonders to your head. "I can stop when I'm dead. Just tell me what to do next."

Cheol perks up at your challenge, "Okay, soldier, calm your horses. We'll do some hip thrusts now but let's start slow."

"You don't have to take it easy on me," you add, taking the barbell from his hands. He smiles, "Don't worry about that, I'm just getting started." You swallow the viscerality of the reaction that rises at his words and force yourself to get into the right position. Cheol must know what he's doing, towering over you with that nefarious smirk, monitoring your movements strictly while instructing you how exactly to maintain your form. 

With your eyes fixed on him, you can't help but feel your mind wander, far beyond your control. You can't blame yourself– this angle is sinful. He looks so delectable with his arms crossed across his chest as usual and legs steadily placed close to yours on the ground in case he had to help you out. You wonder what he's like under the trackpants he sports, about his thighs and what they'd feel like under your palm. You wonder what he'd sound like–

You slip mid-rep with your grip on the barbell going loose and you yelp out as the weight bounces dangerously. Cheol's arm flash before you sight, swiftly grabbing the barbell before it hit your shin, throwing it aside with a loud clank. A few people working out near you give you concerned glances but all you can do is heave out a breathe at the sight of Cheol crouched so close to you.

He hauls you with one brawny arm behind your back, holding you close to his face so he could inspect you. "Are you okay?" he asks you gravely, eyes scanning your torso and then going down your legs.

You must be truly sick because even in this situation, you're thrilled. Absolutely thrilled. Because you're so close to Cheol you can feel his breath against your hot neck and you finally have an excuse to paw against his chest, and feel the sinewy warmth under his shirt. 

"I'm fine," you muster, mouth unbelievably dry and Cheol takes the wideness of your gaze to be fear. He rests your body back against the bench and you mourn the loss of his touch silently. But then he presses the back of his hand against your cheek and then pats your head. 

"You're fine," he repeats your words but with more conviction, a reassurance. "You scared the shit out of me." You breathe out a chuckle, "Sorry. You'd get into trouble if I got injured under your watch right?"

Cheol stares at you. "That's what you're worried about? Not that you almost lost a leg and a half just now?"

You look away with a flushed face. "No, I was never worried about that. I knew you'd catch it before anything happened."

"You should be more worried, then," he responds with a shake of his head, "I'm not perfect. I won't make it every single time."

"Sorry," you sigh, "I'll be more careful." You're quick to give in, especially because you could not stand the reason behind this mess. 

You leave after that with Cheol firmly refusing to go on, with something about not taking more chances. You sense something akin to disappointment in his words and feel a pit in your stomach as you head home. You'd started to bond with him finally, with your determination to show up, but this felt like it put you back to square one. Cheol, as reliable as he was, seemed reluctant to open up to you and where he'd finally started to warm up to you, your slip-up today probably reminded you that you were a customer who he needed to train.

Your sleep is fitful that night because you can't stop thinking about your accident. Can't stop thinking what might have happened if you didn't mess up. And then you picture Cheol and his watchful gaze over you the whole time you're there. God, you feel crazy. 

–

"What's crazy is that I got a whole box of them for 20 bucks on sale!" Lisa exclaims. You nod at her anecdote about scoring extremely cheap protein powder that slightly concerned you about the quality of the product your co-worker was consuming. Lisa had caught you that afternoon in the lunch room, awkwardly stretching out your legs. When she grilled you about it, you'd revealed your recent gym membership and the consequent soreness.

"I've heard drinking lemon coffee before workouts is really helpful," she adds with an excited grin. Lisa, as it turns out, was a huge gym rat. "And oh, don't ever go to the gym if you haven't slept at least a good 8 hours."

"What?" 

"Yeah, lack of sleep combined with exertion is a nightmare for your body."

You tap your nail on the table nervously, worried that would mean you couldn't go to the gym today. Just then, Wonwoo enters the break room with a knowing chuckle. "What bullshit is Lisa feeding you this time, Y/N?"

"Hey!" Lisa protests, "I'm just sharing my years of advice with her since she just started the gym." Your glares at Lisa go unnoticed as she goes ahead and reveals your newest hobby to the man.

You groan, "You make it sound like such a big deal. It's not, I'm just finding ways to keep myself occupied."

"You must be getting old," Wonwoo says as he slides into a chair next to you. "But if I know anything about the gym, it's that it'll keep you young. Especially with the guys that you'll see there."

You stare at Wonwoo, "What the fuck is wrong with you guys? I can't have one normal conversation around here." The man simply elbows you with a chesire grin, "Oh, come on, Y/N. You're always so proper and put-together, it makes me think you're not even living your life."

You go silent, ears redenning at his words. "Wonwoo, that's a little rude," Lisa accuses him, "Y/N's the coolest member of our team, how could disrespect–"

"I'm not, I just mean that you've achieved most of your goals now," he shrugs, "But you probably have a side that you always keep in check. Maybe you should let go a little?"

– 

For all your attempts at ignoring Wonwoo's unsolicited advice, you end up thinking about it the whole day. And the next, when you make your way back to the gym. You're a little reluctant to, given you were still embarrassed about your incident last time. But stupid Wonwoo and his way with words. 

You found yourself overthinking your outfit for the day, ending up wearing a baby blue sports bra with a strappy back and black sweatpants. You had to admit that it was quite flattering on your figure, with your back tattoo on display, one that said babydoll in a cursive font, a reference to one of your favorite songs and just generally, a cheeky nudge to whoever was reading in the direction of your preferences. 

Today, you spot Cheol across the cardio room but with another client, a tall blonde woman who was jogging leisurely at a speed that would have you gasping for breath. She looked like she was in great shape, a flat stomach revealed by her cropped bra and an ass for days that her shorts accentuated. Cheol looked so different than when he was with you, eyes smiling as he continuously hyped the girl up, a proud beam on his face. You don't think you'd even seen all his teeth on display before. 

You force yourself to take a treadmill where you can't see him, turning the music on your earbuds all the way up to get your head straight. But every song you listen to reminds you of him. You ignore it anyway, increasing the speed on your treadmill when you catch a glimpse of him escorting the lady out. He really looked like he was enjoying himself, laughing loudly at something she says in a soft voice. She was in a league of her own. Heck, so was Cheol.

The reminder is unpleasant and you have a hard time putting on a smile when Cheol comes to stand at your side with an expectant grin. But in comparison to before, this grin seems dull and his eyes look like they're calculating something, not delighted. You had a feeling this was going to be another difficult session for you.

"That's a nice outfit," he comments when you turn around to him, covered in sweat from your jealousy-driven run. You don't respond to his compliment, feeling like it was empty and honestly, losing your will to please him after what you'd witnessed. You get off the treadmill with a sigh and roll your shoulders back, "What am I doing today?"

Cheol hesitates for a split second at your curtness but moves on quickly, guiding you to the dumbbells. "Arms and back for the lady today," he announces grandly, handing you two dumbbells labelled 10 lbs. You raise your brows at him, wondering if his decision had anything to do with your exceptionally bare back. Reigning in your curiosity, you do as he says.

The first few sets of various basic exercises go by well, so much so that you catch Cheol mumbling a good job in your ear when you pass him the dumbbells. The compliment goes straight to your head – and well, elsewhere – but you control your thoughts, not when you were finally feeling like yourself and not like a perverted idiot lusting over your hot hym trainer.

But then you're at the back-row machine and you lose your drive, glancing uneasily at Cheol. He simply gestures for you to get started. "You know the drill" are his brief words of explanation. 

The first set goes by okay with you struggling to finish the last rep but by the time you're in the middle of the second set, you feel a numbing strain in your back, making it a Herculean task to even tug at the handles. You spot Cheol walking over behind you and the pads of his fingers press into your back, somehow landing exactly where the fabric of your bra left you exposed.

Your eyes jump to his in the mirror, the contact sending a wave of heat to all kinds of places and feeling incredibly inappropriate for some reason. Cheol's eyes remain unyielding when you meet them though, his grip extending to your shoulder to pull them back. "Come on," his words splay out like breath on your neck, "Keep going."

You manage the last few reps with his help, groaning in pain when he finally lets you go. He pulls away as soon as you're done, sqaushing any hopes that you had of him sharing the vibe that you had felt. He even takes a large step away to give you air before the next round. You pout as you closely observe him in the mirror, wondering why he was so cold to you. He had seemed warmer a few days ago when you'd shown up to contradict his expectation, maybe even warmer than he had been with that lady earlier. So how come he's back to being distant now?

"Something on your mind?" Cheol asks, coming to your side, "You've been glaring at me for the past minute."

"Nothing."

"Really? You've been weird this whole time you know," he presses. "It's my duty to make sure you're satisfied as my client. So if I'm doing anything wrong…"

You sigh at his words. Satisfied, huh? If Cheol had even the slightest hint to your thoughts every time you were close to him– God, he'd probably drop you as a client altogether. "I'm fine," you say quietly, looking down at your hands instead of at him. You were doing so well at keeping it together and you didn't want to lose your progress to some whim. "Just tired from work."

"Have you been sleeping okay?"

"As okay as I can."

"Have you considered asking for a day off?"

You scoff, "I'm not on my death bed. A few hours of lost sleep won't kill me."

"It will in the long run," Cheol retorts, lips set in a thin line, "And that's the second time you've talked about dying before giving up with me."

You're starting to wish he would stop with his questions. "I'm not suicidal, Cheol," you start, "And I'm not losing sleep because of work anyway."

"Oh, really? What is then? A guy?"

You scowl at his words, "I'd rather not talk about this anymore. It's not funny."

"Didn't say it was," he mumbles but returns to his stance behind you. You feel his palm on your back again, "Let's go for the last set, then."

You pull hard, getting in a few good reps before your back muscles start to give up again. Cheol's in action, forcing your muscles to stay engaged as you continue pulling him. "Breathe for me, doll, you're doing so well. Just five more reps." Forget the fact that you'd done your required 20 reps of the back rows, when you hear Cheol's praise you feel your energy spike up, somehow pulling off 5 more reps. 

He lets go with a chuckle, "I knew you had it in you." You slump over, dropping your head in your hands, reeling. Did you hear him right? Doll? Your stomach turns with butterflies, the thought of him using your tattoo exactly in the way you'd intended – fuck, you think you could give the man the best head of his life right now if he let you.

But instead you pretend to be wiped out as you stand up without making any eye contact with him, crouching over your water bottle and taking a few sips. You realized that Cheol was being himself with you, now that you think about it, his sarcastic jabs and his cynical questioning. He was worried about you but didn't want to burden you with it. But to think that you'd managed to get him to praise you despite his aloofness, it made you want to do unthinkable things.

"All right, let's do some shoulder presses next," Cheol says, deciding you'd had enough of a break. You silently nod, following him to the bench. Surprisingly enough, you make it through the rest of the workout without a hitch, even earning yourself an approving hoot from Cheol along the way.

"You're on fire today, aren't you?" he beams and you want to imprint the sight in your mind. "Come on, I'll have do some good stretching today so you won't wake up feeling like someone beat you up again."

You chuckle at the reference to your earlier comment and gladly follow him to the mats where he guides you through some stretches. Then he perches himself in front of you, holding out his hands. "Give me your hands."

You look at him questioningly and he simply waits. Slowly, you put your hands in his, noticing the way his wrap around yours completely. He's big compared to you, easily pulling you toward him while keeping his feet planted above your knees so you could stretch your spine out. You let out a moan at the feeling in your spine, "That feels good."

His hand wrap around your wrist next, resting them on his shoulders– and you swear to God, he's got to be doing this to you on purpose. All you can think about is his skin under your palms, the hard shoulders that you didn't imagine you'd be touching. He continues to mess with you; his hands are on your shins, massaging their way up your legs– your calves, your knees, your thighs. 

You pull away with abruptly and his hands dance back down your legs. Cheol's looking up at you with hooded eyes, as if he can read every thought that's running through your head. "Good?" he asks and the vague nature of the question does nothing to help your situation.

You clear your throat, "Yes. Am I done for the day?" 

Cheol makes you suffer through some more stretches, ones where he finds an excuse to get his hands on you– an arm stretch with him pulling you from one side or a back stretch where he crossed your arms down firmly. Your head was all but spinning when you're finally done.

"Okay, you're done. Thanks for the session," he exclaims and as you turn to leave, he stops you with a hand on your elbow. "Oh and– Listen, I don't know what's on your mind but don't worry so much. You're doing great, at least in the gym. Sleep well tonight, doll."

– 

The only explanation for Cheol's behavior was that he hated you. Because why else would he enjoy torturing you like this? You had never thought you showing up mad to a session would lead to him doing all that– calling you doll of all things. You had all sorts of thoughts in your head right now and none of them you could voice out loud without embarrassing yourself. 

That night, you do sleep well, a little too well even. You have sweet dreams after all, dreaming of Cheol in your bed, climbing up your relaxed figure while his hands trailed up your legs, not stopping at your thighs. They make it all the way and the sound that leaves you is undignified but Cheol meets your mouth like he predicted your reaction. His touch burns you and his tongue leaves you feeling like you were starving. You sweat in his arms, his words sending you over the edge in no time.

You wake up the next morning to a mess in your panties, the sight leaving you truly dumbfounded. If you had thought you had come close to regaining your sanity in the last few days, you might just have lost any such hope. You rush to shower, making it cold on purpose so you could cleanse any dirty thoughts away with the remains of last night.

But Cheol's hold on you is strong, even when he isn't forcing you to go through the last few reps of an exercise. You enter the office in a daze that day, going about your daily tasks without a real thought behind your eyes. 

It's only when you overhear a conversation in the break room that you come to your senses.

"I'm thinking of changing my hair," Kazuha tells Katie with a thoughtful hum, "But I don't know what to do." You gaze at the younger girls in front of you. Kazuha had long hair the shade of mocha and Katie sported a short blonde bob that bounced when she peeked over her friend's shoulder to look at her phone.

"Oh, you know what you would suit? Blonde streaks!"

"Really?" Kazuha sounds dubious, "I don't know. I'm more of a dark hair girl."

"I know, that's why I said streaks, stupid," Katie pulls out her phone and scrolls through something that looks like an album of hair pictures. "Something like this– Just your bangs, or the ends of your hair."

Intrigued by the conversation, you approach the pair. "Hey, guys," you let yourself known and the two nod quickly when they see you.

"Oh, hi, Y/N!"

"Sorry to interrupt, but I… I had a question."

Katie looks excited, leaning forward with a sneaky grin. "Sure! What is it? Are you seeing someone?"

"What? No, that's not it," you protest, uneasily playing with your mug. "Um, actually, I was… this is a completely hypothetical question, okay?" The two nod eagerly. "If I was to know a guy who was a gym rat of sorts… What kinds of things would you say might interest him?"

"Interest him?" Kazuha says, "Aren't gym rats only into other gym rats?"

"Yeah, I think so, too," Katie echoes, "When you live for the gym, you'd only want a partner who understands the lifestyle. But I did have this friend…"

She trails off and you prod, "A friend?"

"Well, she had a crush on this guy at her gym so she tried to get his number and he–" she cuts herself off with a light laugh, "He said she was too plain. God, he was an asshole. My friend had the latest hairstyle and everything. She cried over him for a week. I told her not to spend so much money on the membership if she was just going there for a guy…"

You nod, "Right… That sounds awful." Eventually, Kazuha and Katie go back to discussing something on their phones and you excuse yourself. 

–

You don't go to the gym for the rest of that week, mainly because you're afraid to see Cheol, still not over the wet dream you'd had of him. Thankfully, there hadn't been any more but just the one occurence had you feeling like you'd committed a crime so you stayed away to keep your conscience clean. 

A week later, you finally force yourself out of your guilty spiral and head to the gym. At the reception, you pause before heading in for cardio. "Hey, Seol," you call out and she looks up from the computer. "Do you mind if I ask you something?"

"No, please, ask away."

"Is… Does Cheol have a lot of clients?"

Seol looks amused at your question and takes her time riling you up before saying, "Yes, ma'am. He's one of the top trainers in our gym. Sometimes, we have clients asking to switch over to be trained by him because they see him training other people."

"Ah, I see," you say, keeping your tone as flat as possible, "And can I ask how I ended up with him?"

"Oh, well, it was just good timing," Seol says with a polite smile, "He had a client leave after she got promoted at work so you joining worked perfectly."

You nod at her response, thanking her as you head in. So it was just luck. 

You don't know what you had expected– Of course, Cheol was popular. You weren't the only one with eyes around here and looks aside, he was genuinely great at his job. You didn't take that for granted but it didn't help the pit in your stomach, when you realized you were just a replacement client on his roster. 

Great. You've been in the gym for less than 10 minutes and the crazies have already started. 

To make things even worse, you see Cheol next to another woman yet again. This time she's short, a petite figure with long wavy hair and you almost laugh out loud at the situation. Someone must be playing a sick joke on you because how else was every single one of his clients so much prettier than you? 

You have to restrain your thoughts before they dig you any deeper in a hole of self-depreciation so you pick out a treadmill away from them. 

"Evening, doll," Cheol pipes up next to you, voice cheery as he pats your arm. You contain yourself as you stop your jog and get off. "Do you have to call me that?" you throw, giving him your best icy stare.

He simply grins, "What? Doll? But it's a cute name."

"I already have a name," you cut in, "And someone might get the wrong idea if they heard you."

Cheol regards you with a glint in his eye. What you would do to hear his thoughts. "There's nothing to get wrong," he finally says, "So don't worry."

If anything, his words are a harsh slap of reality. It brings you back to earth effectively so maybe you ought to thank him for it. You make it through that workout without an indecent though– well, okay, there might have been a few but nothing that was enough to put you in a life-threatening position. In fact, you make it through a whole week's worth of sessions with those words.

It's Friday when it all goes down the drain– your hard work at regaining normality with Cheol and your sanity. You're done for the day and in the middle of packing up, when you see Cheol being approached by a woman. Looking up, you realize it's the tall blonde from a few weeks ago. She speaks quickly and quietly but you hear the words drinks on me tonight. 

Your stomach churns and you look away without thinking, hoping to run away before you had to hear any more. But Cheol's voice is clear when he responds, "Sorry, I can't. I'm busy tonight."

You hate the way you're relieved at his rejection, the lack of any remorse in his tone and the way he quickly turns back to you. The blonde woman looks dejected and blinks at his back a few times before leaving. 

"Wow," you comment when she's gone, "That was cold."

"You think so?" he asks as if it wasn't clear as day. "I was just making myself clear."

"So you have a no-client dating policy?"

"Nah, not really," Cheol shrugs as he rolls up the mat you had used a few minutes ago. "Plus, she's not even my client anymore."

"Oh," you breathe and then feel a sudden burst of courage run through your veins. "So if I was to ask you out…"

Cheol tilts his head, lips lilting, "What about you asking me out?"

Asshole, of course he's making you spell it out for him. You bite back a smile, "Nothing. Just a thought." With that, you leave him hanging, exiting the gym as if you hadn't proposed to take him out on a date without any real conclusion. 

It was complicated, you explain to yourself later. For one, you didn't even think he was into you like that. Sure, he could be touchy and flirty around you when he wanted you, and yeah, maybe he didn't call you anything other than doll, but in real terms, those actions had no meaning behind them. They were just that. 

And you didn't enjoy putting yourself out like that– asking someone else out. It had always been the other way around, the guys asking you out after days of you charming them. And where you'd always been anything but yourself with Cheol, you weren't ready to let go of your reputation just yet. 

– 

Maintaining your reputation takes on a questionable turn that weekend when you pass a hair salon on your way home from shopping for some much-needed home supplies. You stop because the sign outside catches your eye. In flashy bubble letters, it reads GYU'S SALON: come by if you want to rediscover your wild side. You find yourself smiling, hand on the door before you have a second to debate it. 

Someone at the counter welcomes you and asks you to wait for a moment while they grab a stylist. You take a seat on the couch and look inside the salon. It's not too packed but there's a few customers, most of them women. You see that most of them are young and the observation comforts you. In particular, you notice a girl taking selfies with her new styled hair– a short layered look with blue ends. It looked cool but too bright for you to pull off. 

A kind-looking lady with hair the color of plum approaches you. "Hello, are you here for a hair styling session?" 

You stand up, "Ah, yeah, I am. Sorry, I don't have an appointment."

"That's fine, I'm free now," she says with a smile, "You must've seen the sign." You don't how she knows but you simply smile back at her. She nods, "Okay, come with me." 

The lady's named April, you find out, and she's the funniest person you've met in a while. She's also an expert in hair, it seems, because she can tell the last time you cut your hair was neary two years ago and even points out that you wash your hair every other day. Eventually, you tell her you want to do something different with your hair but nothing too crazy.

"Define crazy."

"Well, this is my first time dying my hair. But I don't want anything too light and please don't cut my hair too short."

"Gosh, you sure have a lot of demands." Then after a moment of running her hands through your hair, playing with its strands, she comes to a decision. "All right, missy, I have something in mind for you."

Two hours later,  you have red hair but not too red. It was the exact shade of wine under the salon lights but when you stepped out of the salon, it was more a dark brown. You'd thanked and tipped April generously for her work because she had come through on her word. In the mirror back at home, you admired your hair. April had trimmed off the ends but made sure your hair retained its length. You didn't regret your decision when you had a whole night to overthink it, thrilled whenever you caught sight of your head in a reflective surface. April might have been God's sweet gift to you. 

– 

That week you're showered in compliments at work with a coworker stopping at your desk every time they realized it was you sitting there typing away in red hair. You'd been somewhat worried that the change wasn't drastic enough for many to notice but you're proven wrong. Kazuha is the first one you run into that day, meeting her in the elevator and it takes her a glance to notice the new hair.

"Y/N? Your hair is so pretty!" she's spinning you around so she can get a better look, "Oh my God, where'd you get it done? It's amazing."  You thank her and vaguely describe the salon you'd found by chance. 

Later that evening, you walk unusually slow to the gym, taking your time to dwell on the response you might get from Cheol. You're close to the entrance when you see a familiar figure a few feet away. Before you can confirm your suspicion, you also spot an unmissable head of blonde hair.

It's her again. You feel your heart lurch in your chest as you unwittingly stop in your tracks. She's talking to Cheol, her back to you. If it wasn't for the expression on Cheol's face being a clear one of panic, you might have walked your way without a worry (other than the ones that would've spurred out of jealousy). You aproach them cautiously, wanting to get a better understanding of the situation before interfering.

"...is just mean. You led me on! You told me I was–"

"I'm sorry, Haein, if you feel that way but that's just part of my job," Cheol's voice is strained with suppressed emotions and you speed up, "I need you to stop cornering me–"

"Cheol!" you call out loudly, causing both of them to turn towards you. The blonde, Haein apparently, looks annoyed to find you there and you quietly walk over to Cheol's side. He's quiet when you poke him with your elbow. "What're you doing out here? You're gonna be late to my session!"

"Excuse me, miss, but I was in the middle of–"

"I'm sorry but I pay this guy an unbelievable amount of money to train me," you say in your most obsequious voice, "and I work really hard for the money I make. So unless you're about to pay me more than I pay him just to talk to him, why don't we call it a day here?"

When Haein storms off with a few unintelligible curses your way, you let out a laugh of disbelief. Cheol releases a chuckle from beside you, sighing in relief. "That was–" he starts, "Thanks, Y/N. You saved my ass."

"No worries," you reply, "but I wasn't entirely kidding about what I said. You start showing up late to our sessions and I'll start cutting the paycheck."

"You realize that's not how it works, right? You have to pay the same amount of–"

"I don't care how it works, Cheol," you interrupt him.

"For what it's worth," you hear him say as the two you finally enter the gym through its glass doors. "You were pretty cool back there. I felt so safe and protected with you throwing so many big words at her."

You turn to him with a frown, "Big words? I just talked really fast so she couldn't afford to call my bluff."

Cheol laughs at your confession, "It worked. She looked spooked when she finally ran off."

"So she's been bothering you even after you rejected her?"

"Yeah, looks like she thought we had a thing," he mumbles, "but all I did was my job and there's no nicer way to put it."

You grimace, waving at Seol who perks up at the sight of you arriving with Cheol. "That's tough. You should do something about it. I won't always be around to save the day, you know?"

"You're right," Cheol teases, "I need to become independent."

You pause in front of the changing room, "Okay, I'll go put my things away–"

Cheol breaks you off when he takes a step too close to you, voice dropping to a whisper. "Your hair's cute, doll. I'm a lucky man to have a pretty girl like you worry about me."

And then, he's gone with a flash of his smirk. As if he hadn't just left your veins blazing with the rush his words had caused. You drop to your knees inside the changing room, legs weaker than a day of working them out under Cheol's supervision. There's just no way he isn't messing with you on purpose, right?

But then you recall his words from earlier– all I did was my job and there's no nicer way to put it – and you're not so sure anymore. On the one hand, it was objectively not part of his job to call you doll or to have his hands wander your body or to constantly pester you with questions when you seemed out of it or to call you pretty. But at the same time, you couldn't say it was just him being nice to you, making sure you didn't feel unseen. 

Your worries find an answer later that day when you're leaving the changing room after another training session. Cheol intercepts you with a look that you've never seen before– uncertainty.

"Hey, can I talk to you for a sec?"

"Yeah, sure, what's up?" you let him pull you aside to a more secluded area behind the reception.

"I know you're too humble to take it seriously but I really do owe you one for earlier," Cheol rubs the back of his neck, a boyish grin on his face, "If you hadn't sepped in, I might have had to agree to go out with her."

"Cheol," you sigh, "I just did that because you looked uncomfortable. You don't have to thank–"

"Thanking you isn't enough," he stresses, "I want to repay you."

You cross your arms, the phrasing of his request piquing your curiosity. "And how exactly do you want to repay me?"

"Let me take you out for dinner."

You hate the way your eyes betray surprise at his words, his pleased smile only doing wonders to the adrenaline rush that slapped you. "What?"

"I know a good place near here but it'll be packed today," Cheol pulls out his phone out of his pants, "But if I make a reservation, we'll be able to get in this week."

"I…"

"Is that a yes?" his eyes are focused on yours, waiting for an answer.

"Sure, but is it okay for us to…?" you find yourself unable to complete your question. "Why wouldn't it be?" Cheol tilts his head, "We're both adults and it's consensual."

"I guess you're right," you admit. Cheol places his phone in front of you, "Your number, doll."

– 

If you had thought you were insane a few weeks ago, now you were convinced that you were. Ever since you'd exchanged numbers with Cheol, all you could do was stare at his contact. You'd gone simple, just saving him as Cheol, not before you considered adding a cherry emoji next to his name. It was too much, you decided, settling for the plain name instead.

"Whose murder is she planning this time?" 

Wonwoo's question brings you out of your daze and you glare at him. "Yours if you don't shut the fuck up."

"Woah," Wonwoo holds up his hands in surrender, glancing at Lisa, "You sure she isn't up to something?"

"She's got a date tonight," Lisa reveals without a hint of hestitation in her voice. You kick the girl under the table, "Lisa! You're just gonna sell me out like that?"

"Sorry, Y/N, but I have a 100% honesty policy with Woo," she sighs, looking at Wonwoo dreamily. Right, you had almost forgotten. After months of pining for each other, the two had finally confessed to each other, becoming the office's newest couple. It was very sweet and also very inconvenient when you wanted to confide in your best friend.

"Remind me to get a new and single best friend," you murmur to yourself. Wonwoo drags a chair across from you, "So who's the lucky guy?"

"There is no guy. Just a funeral. For you."

"You're so funny today, Y/N," Wonwoo has the audacity to laugh, "Is it someone from your gym? No wonder you've been looking leaner these days. A little extra motivation to hit the gym can go a long way."

"I don't know why I bother hiding things anymore," you cave, "and for the record, it's not because of any guy that I'm getting fitter."

You find yourself doubting your own words that night when you're sitting across from the man, keeling over in laughter at something he said about the menu in this place. It's a unique restaurant with moody lighting and square tables for two scattered across the wooden floors. Most of the tables were already filled with couples, peering over a menu together and sharing a glass of wine. 

It's unnervingly romantic, you realize as you sit, tucking the tail of your dress under you. Cheol's eyes never leave you, weighing your reactions to the place. "It's so quiet here," you whisper, still surveying your surroundings, feeling hot under his undivided attention. You hadn't been prepared to be this close. Sure, you had been closer to him in the gym but this was your first time with him in a place outside of the gym, where you couldn't pretend your feelings for him were part of an alter ego you'd made up. 

Cheol is real right now, his knees brushing against your bares ones under the table. He looks different tonight, clad in a nice navy shirt whose buttons were unsuprisingly strained against his chest. It was unfair how attractive he looked in a plain outfit. 

"You like wine?" 

You look at him with a start and nod quickly, "Yeah, I do."

"And what about me?" Cheol sneaks the question in, teeth baring as he grins at your panicked expression. "I'm just kidding. Sorry, I can't help it. You're cute when you're embarrassed."

"And you're just as much of an asshole when you're not in the gym."

He shrug, defined collarbone peeking out at you at the movement. "I'm always myself," he tells you. 

The night progresses slowly with Cheol taking his time getting to know you, raining you in question after question about your life– when did you start working? Did you have siblings? Why did you move to the city so young? How many exes did you have? What was your favorite kind of coffee?

"You have a dog?" you exclaim when he shows you a photo of a white Maltese with a doting smile on his face. You hit his arm across the table, "Why wasn't that the first thing you told me?"

Cheol laughs with his head thrown back, "Really? That's what gets you? My dog? I'd take you to meet her but she's living with my brother because I got too busy."

"She's so cute, Cheol! I didn't think you of all people would have a dog."

"What do you mean, me of all people?"

You pause before thinking over your words. "You seem… distant. I thought you would like living alone so nobody bothers you."

Cheol sighs at your words, "What have I done for you to have such an impression of me?"

"I don't know, something about the way you're always cynical? Or your general condescending tone? Or that one time when you told me you hated your friends for being office-workers?"

"Okay, so you clearly like exaggerating things," he protests, "I love my friends, I just wish they lived more. And I'm not cynical, just…"

"Realistic?" you finish his sentence, "Trust me, that's what I tell people, too. But it's all a lie."

"You have a lot to say for someone who actually lives all by herself," Cheol accuses you with a sip of his wine, eyes narrowing, "And I feel like you're way colder than I am. It took me a week to get you to start calling me by my name and not just wait for me to look at you when you needed something."

You groan, "Can you not bring that up? I'm still embarrassed about that."

"Cute," he chirps, "But seriously, you're kinda scary when you're in your head. I get the chills when I imagine what you must be like at work."

"You imagine what I'm like at work?" you tease him, leaning back in your chair. 

"You're the one who's telling me you're not like this at work," he points out, "Whatever that means."

"It means I'm cool as a cucumber," you finally say, "I'm a little scary but only to people who deserve it. But I'm mostly just cool. Or at least I was."

Cheol waits for you to go on and you scrape at your empty plate with a fork, missing the pasta you had just devoured just so you could distract yourself. "I was cool before I… met you, I guess."

"Really?" Cheol does nothing to hide the glad grin that breaks out on his face, "What did I do?"

"Pushed me to my limit," you roll your eyes, "You forced me out of my comfort zone."

"So in other words, I bring out your wild side?"

You flush at his choice of words, "Well, I don't know if I'd say that but… maybe."

–

Your date with Cheol is a dream; he pays for the meal, walks you out with a hand on your waist. He even kisses you goodnight, a kiss that's on your mind for the longest time. His lips are beyond your dreams, plump and demanding on yours. It's too bad neither of you make another move because the night ends at a kiss. 

You can't wait to see him again, but as it turns out the following week means hell for you at work. You're absolutely swamped in your new assignments, with it being the middle of the month. There's increased visits from superiors and your boss insists you attend every meeting, a gesture that promised you that a promotion was in sight. 

It's that hope that keeps you going. You pull a few all-nighters to draft various proposals now that you're your boss' direct right-hand, working earnestly to improve the stellar performance that you were finally getting recognition for. It's on Friday evening that your boss finally notices the bags under your eyes, scolding you for pushing yourself hard. She rushes you out of the office, ordering you to take the day off or she'd force you to. 

You reluctantly do as she says, feeling hollow when you step outside in the fresh air. Your eyes feel heavy and you can't say you feel like doing much. Then, you remember Cheol's touch on your skin and with rejuvenated enthusiasm, you take your phone out. 

You consider texting him but then settle on calling him since he'd be too busy to check his messages. But as it turns out, he's too busy to pick up too. After some thinking, you decide you'd pay him a visit in the gym anyway, ignoring the lightheaded feeling that threatened to consume you. 

Seol greets you at the counter, "Y/N! We missed you this week! Are you okay?"

You sigh, "Yeah, sorry. Work stuff. Is Cheol in?" She nods, much to your relief. "Yeah, he's just finishing up with a client. He should be free for a session in 10."

You thank her as you head in. You knew it wasn't the best idea to work out in this state, but all you could suddenly think about was how Cheol might've taken your absence for the week to be your response to the date. And you hated the thought of that, so you rush to the changing room. 

You're 5 minutes into walking on the treadmill when Cheol's familiar presence makes itself known. "Y/N?"

"Cheol, hey," you say, slowing down, "Sorry I wasn't in this whole week, I've been really busy with work."

"That's fine, I figured it'd be something like that." You're surprised he takes it so well, even offering you a small smile. Then, he notices the way you look, eyebags and all. "Hey, doll, are you okay? You look tired."

"Oh, I'm fine, just a little out of it."

"Okay, why don't you take a rest?" He stops the machine before you have a say, his arm firmly pulling you off. His hand then comes to rest against your cheek and you smile against his touch. "You're warm, doll. I don't think you should be working out today."

"But–"

"I don't want to hear it," he's pulling you out of the cardio room without hearing you out. "Come with me. Is there a friend you can call to pick you up?"

"Um, sure, but I can just go home on my own–"

"Just do as I say if you want to live to see another day– And I swear to god, if you make another joke about death, I'll hurt you myself."

"Ooh," you coo at him as he enters the elevator with you, hitting the 5th floor. "Threatening me now? Is that how you treat a pretty girl?"

Cheol's breath is shaky when he lets out a sigh, averting his gaze. "What about when the pretty girl ghosts me for a whole week?"

"I told you, Cheol, I was busy–"

"I know, I know. I'm just teasing. I was just scared I did something wrong for a second." He doesn't let you say anything when the elevator opens, continuing, "Anyway, you can rest in my office while your friend comes to get you."

"You have an office?"

Cheol laughs at your shocked question, "Yeah, that's what I get for bringing in the most clients here. Anyway, go in and take a seat. I'll get you something to drink." You walk into his office, bewildered by the room. He had a nicer desk than you did and little polaroids decorated the board next to his window. It was a cozier place than you would expected to find in a gym. You sit in a chair, giggling at a photo of Kkuma on the wall, wearing a bow the same shade of pink as her tongue. 

"So adorable," you say under your breath.

"I know I am," Cheol startles you, coming up next you with a bottle of water. 

You elbow him away, starting to feel unusually hot out of the blue. "Sorry, I know it's kinda hot," he apologizes, "I asked them to turn the air up but it takes a while for it to actually work." 

You don't say anything, focused on getting your vision to stop losing focus and the man takes a seat across from, concern painting his face when he catches your dazed look. "Hey, look at me. Take a deep breath for me. What's wrong?"

"Hot," you mumble, pressing a hand against your sweaty forehead. It felt like the short five minute walk was catching up to you all at once, your heart starting to hammer wildly in your chest. You press against it in pain. 

"Doll," Cheol's voice mellows out, his hand taking yours in his. "Drink some water for me." You do as he says, but the water is lukewarm, doing nothing to help. You swallow hard against the dryness in your throat. 

"Okay, that's not going to work," he lets out. And then, his hands are your waist, grabbing the fabric of your shirt, "Y/N, I'm going to take your top off, 'kay?"

Even in your queasy state, you manage to jump at his touch on your bare stomach. "Cheol, I…"

"Trust me, doll," he leans down to meet your eyes. "It'll help." With an obedient hum, you let Cheol take control, him peeling the layer of fabric off your skin. You feel much better almost instantly, the warm air hitting your bare skin. You sigh out as you rest your head in your hands.

"Thanks," you breathe, "I feel like shit."

"That's okay." You look up at him when you catch the hitch in his voice. Through the fuzziness in your vision, you see Cheol avoiding your gaze. You reach for his bicep in your confusion, "Cheol."

He turns to you, eyes wavering as they trail down your neck. You feel heat shoot to your neck at his gaze and he coughs awkwardly. "Sorry," his voice is hoarse, "I'm not looking."

"You can," you state boldly, turning to him. You were wearing an old bra, a plain black thing that had kept you company for decades now, the lace in the back unravelling with wear. But the way Cheol looked at you right now, you could've been wearing the fanciest lingerie in season. 

"Y/N," he warns you. 

You're feeling better by the moment, vision clearing as your body tempertaure returns to normal. But instead of overheating, you find yourself losing focus for a different reason. You shift closer to Cheol, "If you're embarrassed, do something about it."

Your words stun him, his eyes wide as he stares back to make sure you were the one saying them. But all he finds is unbridled lust in your gaze, hand clawing at his knee, begging him to do something, anything that could help your state.

In a flash, Cheol's shirt is off and you drink in the sight before you hungrily. The sight you'd only ever imagined and dreamed about is finally yours to enjoy and you're going to make every moment worth it. When Cheol hears the desperate mewl you let out, he's pulling you close, hands encompassing your waist. You're on his lap before you know, knees hitting the valley of his pelvis. 

"Fuck, you're hotter than I imagined," you groan out, hands roaming his bare back. He bites back an undignified sound at your comment, "Doll, you're making this really hard for me."

You feel his body burning up under yours and you're not sure which one of you is out of breath, but you're panting into his mouth the next thing you know. "This is crazy," he mumbles into you and you can't help but chuckle. "I know," you shoot, thumbs on his cheeks, tracing the skin around his lips. "But I think I went crazy the day I set my eyes on you."

Your shameless admission has Cheol groaning into your skin, his lips attaching to your neck. You feel him bury his face in your hair, inhaling deeply before he finds your face again. "You don't know the kinds of thoughts I've had about you," he laughs, eyes hooded, "I can't even think about you without losing it."

You're about to reveal a part of your suffering when your phone starts ringing. When you see Wonwoo's name on the screen, you jump up with a curse. "Shit, it's Wonwoo."

"Who?"

"He's here to pick you up."

"Why?"

You glare at Cheol, "Because you asked me to ask a friend."

"Right," he says slowly, running a hand through his hair. Even now, all you can think is about the way his stomach contracts with the sharpness of his breath. God, you want him so bad. 

"I'm gonna ask him to come up here but we should probably get dressed–"

"I don't want to."

You stare at Cheol with a dumbfounded expression. "Cheol, we have to." After much convincing, you manage to get Cheol's shirt back on, just in time for the knock that comes on his door. 

"Wonwoo?" you open the door and smile at your friend. Wonwoo looks worried, not returning your greeting. "Y/N, what the fuck is wrong with you? You didn't get the day off so you could come here and–"

Wonwoo's reprimand is cut short when he catches sight of the other man in the room, mouth hanging open. "Oh, this is–" you turn to introduce Cheol but he's already at your side, holding his hand out for Wonwoo. "Seungcheol," his voice has dropped a magical two octaves, eyes cold. 

"I'm Wonwoo, Y/N's friend," Wonwoo says back, shaking his hand uneasily. "Anyway, let's get you out of here–" Wonwoo's hand is on yours to guide you out when Cheol's breaking between you, sticking his arm out in front of you with a frown.

"Cheol, what're you–"

"Sorry, you don't have to bother. I'll take her home."

You gape at his declaration, attempting to shake some sense into him with a harsh Cheol under your breath. But he remains unyielding, staring at Wonwoo to back off. Your friend looks puzzled and you sigh, "Wonwoo, I'll come with–"

But Wonwoo's taking a step back, a playful glint in his eye, "Oh, wait, I just remembered I have a thing to pick up for the boss before I go home. Sorry, Y/N, you'll be fine, right?" He doesn't even bother waiting to hear you confirm your safety before he's rushing down the stairs, not even bothering with the elevator. 

When he's gone, you stare at Cheol's back. "What the fuck was that?"

He turns to you, "We're not done here."

"Really? That's your excuse? I can't believe you made me call Wonwoo all the way out here–"

"That was before you got me all worked up, doll," he snaps, "And to top it all off, you expected me to watch you get escorted out of here by another man? I'm a nice guy but I can't just let him get his hands all over you."

You can't help the laugh that leaves you, "Cheol, are you jealous right now? Wonwoo's a friend and he's–" Before you can tell him that Wonwoo's already dating Lisa, Cheol's lips are on you, shutting you up for good. He pulls away when you're too weak to say anything back. "I'll drive you home, doll, so stop worrying. I'll apologize to your friend if I have to, but let me take care of you tonight."

Cheol's true to his word, watching your every move as he walks you to his car. You wonder for a second if he came from money, to be able to afford such a nice car on a gym trainer's salary and then, lose your train of thought when he leans forward to strap your seatbelt in. Catching the flush on your cheeks, he chuckles softly, "You're too nervous, doll. I'm not going to kill you and bury your body so why don't you relax for me?" 

He turns on the music, soft jazz hitting your ears and easing your nerves. You quietly ask, "Are we going to your place?"

"Since I don't know where you live," he says, "My place it is."

Cheol's a good driver, not to your surprise, with you falling asleep in the passenger seat on the drive to his home. He stirs you awake 20 minutes later, smiling, "We're here."

Your suspicions about Cheol's wealth are confirmed when you set foot in his place, convinced he was sitting on a crazy inheritance to afford the huge apartment where he lived. "My parents divorced when I was young," he explains when he understands your inquisitory looks, "And my mom felt bad about leaving my life so this is her way of saying sorry. Showering me with luxury. It's burdening but I love her too much to say no at this point." 

"Plus," he adds, coming to cup your hand in his, "I get to impress girls with it."

You laugh at his comment, pushing him away, "I'm sure you've have lots of girls over."

"You're the only one that matters," he insists, "At least the only sick one I've brought home just so I can nurse back to health."

He sits you down on his couch, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "I'll make you something to eat, okay? Food's the best medicine."

– 

In the following weeks, you come to fall even harder for Cheol because outside the gym, he's a man full of love. He meets you after work every day, leading you to his car so you don't have to take the subway, not paying any mind to your protests. He even holds your hand the whole drive back to either of your places, more often his than yours, because he likes to cook you dinner in his kitchen before he makes love to you in his bed.

It's dizzying, being this in love with a man you've lusted after for so long. The sex is mind-blowing, somehow even better than your dreams. You explore his body every second that you can, lips finding their place on his when you're not busy talking. You kiss his back tattoo and tell how much you love it, tracing the lines of the olive tree until you could draw it in your sleep. He shivers under your touch, his tongue on your own tattoo every time you leave your back exposed around him.

"I tried so hard to keep my hands off you the first time you showed up in that backless bra," he admits one evening, circling your tattoo. "Seeing your tattoo made me feel crazy. I could barely think straight that whole day. All I wanted was to feel every inch of your body."

You bury your head in the pillows beneath you, "I knew it! You did that shit on purpose!" 

"Of course I did," his large hands roll you off your stomach and onto your back so you're making eye contact with him. "You think I call every pretty client of mine doll? You think I feel all of them up and down?"

"I hoped you didn't," you sigh into his mouth when it inevitably descends on yours. 

"You must think I'm a slut if you doubted it for a second," he laughs. You shrug, "You were too hot to not be one."

It's too late to take your words back when Cheol sits up with a pout, "Wow… That's what I get for being into you? You know what–"

"I'm kidding! Cheol, stop, don't go! I was kidding! Hey, come back!"

–

[dresshistorynerd]

That ChatGPT ask about The Great Famine made me think about how generative AI is so devastating for historical understanding, but especially the understanding of dress history. There's a lot of completely inaccurate history AI slop, both generated images and writing. I'm always searching primary source images, but even then I've started to come across the occasional AI generated image, which is always very bad. Google image search is at this point almost useless.

The issue is that there's so much outdated information and frankly misinformation about history in the internet and in other source materials the AI scraps. This is of course an issue with many other fields as well, but history definitely belong to the fields which have most misinformation spread about them. When a human armed with a bit of critical thinking comes across a source they can evaluate it's validity. But AI doesn't have critical thinking. It can't think. So if there's a lot of sources, which peddle the same common misconception, AI weights it above what the few rigorous academic sources say. And then the AI becomes basically a misinformation peddling machine. And there's no way of finding our where it got it's information. Even the AI doesn't really know because of the way it works, and that's why, when you try to ask it, it tries to scours for sources that say similar things it was saying rather than giving the actual source it got the information from. And if it doesn't find a source? Well, it might hallucinate one. This is of course an issue in multiple level not just because it's filling the internet with misinformation and drowning out reliable information. It's also basically a plagiarism machine.

This is even worse with dress history than most historical fields, because dress history is such a new field and there's comparatively very little quality research. Even many historians of different fields peddle a lot of old misconceptions of dress history (sometimes you even come across a fairly new paper on dress history and there's some misconception repeated as a truth). So of course AI is very unlikely to produce anything close to accurate information on dress history.

So to see for myself how bad it actually is (and to have a bit of laugh) I decided to try out ChatGPT for the first time. I decided I would ask it a question I have answered in a blog post myself before to see how close (or far) it got.

Here's what I asked: "When did it become socially acceptable for men to wear dresses?"

I have written a very long post on this before found here.

And here's the answer ChatGPT gave with my commentary:

The idea of men wearing dresses has evolved significantly over time, with different periods in history showcasing varying degrees of acceptance. In general, men have worn clothing that could be considered "dress-like" at various points in history, though the specific social context has changed. 1. Ancient and Medieval Times: Men in many ancient cultures, including the Greeks, Romans, and Egyptians, wore tunics, robes, or other garments that we might now think of as dresses. These were considered appropriate for men, often signifying social status, wealth, or ceremonial importance.

Not bad, though this makes it sound like men only wore dresses to signify status, wealth or ceremonial importance, when in fact all men wore dresses. I also made a point in my post to say these were dresses, not just "dress-like". They were (mostly) constructed and (mostly) called the same as the equivalent clothing women wore, so of course I take issue with the framing.

2. Renaissance and Early Modern Period: During the Renaissance and up through the 17th century, men’s fashion included elaborate gowns, skirts, and dresses, often with frills, lace, and rich fabrics. These were considered fashionable and elegant for men, particularly among the aristocracy.

Here's were we're getting to the inaccurate territory. Yes still during renaissance men were wearing dresses, however it was becoming fashionable among especially young noble (and soldier class) men to wear extremely tiny skirts, until they stopped being skirts and turned into very fitted thighs (hose) and doublet. It was the period when dress became increasingly less acceptable for men to wear, but it was precisely lower class and peasant men, who were slower to follow the new fashions and masculine standards, not very surprisingly. But by Early Modern Period it had become unacceptable for men to wear dresses. Yes, there was still hems at points, but those were coat hems, which might seem like basically the same as a skirt hem, but conceptually they were different. It's the same today. No one thinks nothing of it if a man is wearing a long overcoat, with buttons closed, on top of a suit, but if they are wearing thighs and same length skirt? Well, for the next couple of weeks you'll get outrage op-eds and conservative influencers losing their minds over "the death of Western civilization".

Also in 1600s (roughly around 1630s-1660s) rich fabrics and elaborated detailing was not fashionable, not among women and certainly not among men. Men's fashion especially favoured a lot of black and other dark and neutral tones, influenced by somber religious atmosphere influenced by the all the Reformations and Counter-Reformations and wars about them going on at the time. (Of course there's some counter examples, but the general statement ChatGPT gave to me is simple incorrect.)

3. 18th and 19th Century: By the 18th century, Western fashion for men became more structured, and by the Victorian era (19th century), men were expected to wear trousers, waistcoats, and suits (my comment: you mean coat right, ChatGPT?? suit already encompases trousers and waistcoat). The shift towards more gender-specific clothing for men and women took root, and women’s dresses became more ornate and feminine, while men’s clothing became more utilitarian and restrictive.

First of all the height of structuring in Western fashion for both men and women, was during the Elizabethan Era, and additionally men's fashion got briefly a little less structured during the 18th century. As I explain in my post about the actual origins of modern men's suit (it was not Beau Brummel), the three piece suit with trousers, waistcoat and coat was popularized in 1670s. Women's dresses becoming more "feminine" means literally nothing when what was feminine was just seen differently. Of course it became more feminine in our modern eyes, when we get closer to the present day in the historical timeline, because modern femininity was being formed at the time. Men's fashion did become more utilitarian (I talk about a bit about the reasons why in the post about three piece suit above), but I wouldn't call it more restrictive necessarily.

Points for ChatGPT though for acknowledging that fashion became more gender specific around 18th and 19th centuries.

4. 20th Century: The 20th century saw men in dresses or skirts make occasional appearances in fashion, especially in avant-garde or countercultural movements. For example, in the 1920s, some male actors in Hollywood (my comment: here it's "forgetting" where it's going with the sentence, because it doesn't understand what a cohesive sentence means), such as Marlene Dietrich’s famous cross-dressing moments, challenged gender norms. In the 1960s and 1970s, figures like David Bowie, with his androgynous style, brought more attention to the concept of men wearing dresses as part of a wider push for gender fluidity in fashion.

The fact that cross-dressing became more acceptable in the early 20th century for women and people seen as women, didn't really do anything (or very little) to the make cross-dressing more acceptable for men, or those seen as such. Counter culture fashions in 70s and 80s were much more accepting of androgynous men and men wearing skirts, but the wider mainstream fashion was absolutely not accepting of that, definitely not outside the rock icons, who themselves were also side-eyed a lot.

5. Late 20th to 21st Century: By the 1990s and 2000s, with the rise of gender nonconformity and movements pushing for gender equality and expression, men wearing dresses became more visible and socially accepted. Public figures like Prince, Kurt Cobain, and later, celebrities like Harry Styles and Billy Porter, have worn dresses and skirts as part of their personal style, pushing the boundaries of traditional gendered fashion.

It's absolutely still not seen as acceptable for men to wear dresses. Yes, couple of celebrities have done that, and yes there's alternative fashion and queer people who do that, but if you take a look at how people in legacy and social media talk about them, it's pretty obvious that's not socially acceptable in the mainstream.

In essence, it became more socially acceptable for men to wear dresses as part of a broader cultural shift toward embracing non-binary gender expression and rejecting rigid gender norms, especially in the 21st century. Celebrities, designers, and activists have played key roles in challenging the old norms, making fashion more inclusive and fluid. This acceptance continues to grow in many parts of the world, although social attitudes can still vary greatly depending on cultural context.

"A broader cultural shift toward embracing non-binary gender expression and rejecting rigid gender norms." Laughing crying. Yeah, there was a cultural shift, but clearly it was not super broad. It's really laughable to suggest in the heart of the reactionary backlash moment that it's somehow broadly socially acceptable for men to wear dresses.

Also this "although social attitudes can still vary greatly depending on cultural context" makes it sound like outside the western context, which this answer is all about, the attitudes haven't changes as much, when in fact outside the western context dresses for men are much more often acceptable and part of the cultural norms.

Perhaps it was unfair of me to ask my question in a misleading way, since the answer to "when did it become acceptable for men to wear dresses" is "it was for a very long time, but it's not anymore". But this is part of the issue with ChatGPT and similar text based AI. When you ask them a question they will take the assumptions of the question and run with them, even if the assumptions in the question are completely false. It's not just a misinformation machine, but a misinformation machine designed to reinforce your preconceived notions. For example if you would ask ChatGPT "why were corsets unhealthy?" it might answer with a very long answer full of pseudoscientific misinformation straight from the mouths of Victorian eugenists. I did that and the answer was extremely predictably. I'm not going to go through all that since is was so very long and this is getting long enough, but for a taste, after all the bullshit reasons it gave, here's what it wrote at the end:

Why Corsets Were Worn Despite Health Risks: Fashion and Aesthetic Appeal: Corsets were primarily worn to achieve a specific beauty standard that emphasized an extremely small waist and a curvy figure. This was considered a symbol of femininity, refinement, and social status during certain historical periods. Cultural Norms: The societal pressure to conform to the idealized figure meant many women endured discomfort and health risks to fit into the norms of the time.

The biggest eyeroll. Of course nothing about how it distributes the weight of the boobs much more comfortably in the waist rather than the shoulders, or how the heavy dresses people wore needed support or movement would have been very difficult, or how it was an easy way to alter the body, any kind of body, to the fashionable silhouette without needing any invasive procedures or dangerous diets. The most classic, most predictable corset misinformation. This is exactly what I meant at the beginning. The internet is so full of this bullshit already, in the AI algorithm it makes it true.

The lesson is: do not use ChatCPT as your search engine and don't trust it as your source of information. There is numerous of issues with generative AI and the spread of misinformation is certainly one of the biggest, seeing how much death and destruction misinformation has caused only with vanilla social media. I'm afraid to think about the repercussions of refining that metaphorical misinformation machine with the literal misinformation machine. If you want to do research into dress history yourself, but don't know where to start, rather than asking ChatGPT, here's my tips for where to start.

Also be skeptical of the sources you find in the internet, including everything I write. In the age of generative AI it's even more important to use proper sourcing. I'm definitely not perfect about this, since I'm extremely chaotic in my research most of the time and bad at keeping my sources in good order (I don't want to do boring stuff when researching for my hobby, I do that enough for uni), but I'm making an effort to be better about it, at least for my more structured posts. But if you want to know any sources I've used for any reason, when I haven't listed them, you're always free to ask. I might have it somewhere among my 500 open tabs still open, or I might still be able to find it again. So anyway, be skeptical of writings (again, including mine) which don't have sources listed, not just because it could be AI, but also because the same issues apply outside AI - it's much harder to evaluate how trustworthy the writing is or to know weather it's plagiarized.

[vaspider]

Spider, can I ask you and your followers for some input in a situation? I want some unbiased opinions, especially from parents of adult kids (bonus if your adult kids are disabled). I've tried to be as unbiased as possible and include both sides. I am aware that you're under no obligation to actually answer, but I'm hoping that if you're not able to provide any input, then one of your followers might be able to.

TLDR at the end.

The context:

Basically, I am an adult in my late 20s. I haven't lived with my parents since they threw me out at 19 for being diagnosed with autism and they were told that I wasn't capable of living independently without years of occupational therapy. I was homeless for 13 months. Like literally two days later, they dropped me off at work, confiscated my house keys, and said to find somewhere else to sleep because I wasn't coming back home. (My parents insist that I wasn't actually homeless because I already had my current job and was able to afford to stay at a youth homeless shelter. I say "what the fuck do you think Homeless Shelter means??") After that, I was able to get a government grant for chronically homeless youth that allowed me to get a room in a student housing complex. It's not dorms, but it works like a dorm. I do have a private room.

My bedroom of my apartment is a mess. My bedroom has always been a mess. I have AuDHD and multiple disabilities, including extreme fatigue so that's not unexpected. During lockdown, it was especially bad. I had to move out of my last apartment in 2021 because one of my roommates was a bigot and my building wanted a new tenet so they could charge more rent, so between the two of them, they forced me out for being a "safety concern" due to the mess (the roommate did things like lie and say I didn't bathe, even though I was literally still wet from the shower). My parents ended up helping me pack up my stuff and move to a new place. I've been here for a few years and my roommates here have always been okay with the mess because it stays confined to my room.

(Also I wrote this at like 5AM and I'm half asleep but I wasn't going to be able to go back to bed until I ask someone unbiased. So please excuse any typos, and I hope everything makes sense and nothing came out as gibberish because sometimes by brain refuses to Word Good.)

The problem:

My mother decided when I moved in that my dad was going to be inspecting my bedroom in order to make sure it's clean. He's been putting her off but she's been on his ass about it for three years so he's finally caved and said that next time he's here to bring me something (I cannot drive due to disabilities), that he would be inspecting my room.

I do not want my room inspected. I've been very clear about that since day one. Yes, my room is a mess, but I'm also a grownass adult. My parents say that since they've given me some money for my rent over the past few years that they're entitled to inspect my room. I say that it's a violation of my autonomy. My room is my safe space. My mother is an obsessively clean person so growing up, my room wasn't really mine, and everything had to be to her standards whether I liked it or not (including things like what color I paint my furniture that I owned).

My parents do not care about my boundaries, and would say that since I've proven incapable in the past (re: because I'm disabled, not that they'd ever admit it), that they're trying to protect me by keeping me from being kicked out again.

I am skeptical about this and believe it's more about controlling me (see: throwing me out for having autism and just generally being extremely controlling my entire life). My parents have refused to stop giving me money for my rent every now and then (I have a job and pay at least the majority of my rent, but there are some months where business is slow and I don't get many hours, and no one wants to hire me because I act Autistic and use a cane) and I end up short. I have resolved to do everything I can to not need their help, including having my sister pick up my prescriptions, in order to avoid my parents coming over and inspecting my room.

Also, my building already does quarterly inspections and they've always been okay with my room, but I know my room won't be to my parents' standards. I don't have any local friends that I could ask for help cleaning up, but like, I'm a Spoonie. I clean my toilet and then have to go lay down because I'm getting dizzy. I am not making much progress myself.

The question:

Are my parents right? Have I shown that I cannot be trusted to keep my room clean, thus entitling them to come inspect it to make sure it's not a mess. They will definitely yell at me and have threatened to withdraw what support they do give me if my room is a mess or I refuse to let them inspect it? Or am I right to put my foot down and enforce my boundaries?

Side note, my parents have a history of being abusive and controlling. That's something I had to prove to the government to get my grant. They would insist that it's not abuse. Some of it was quite bad but I'm not going to get into it here.

TLDR:

I'm an adult with disabilities who has my own apartment. My parents think they're entitled to come inspect my room to make sure it's clean. I say that it's my apartment and I say no. They have threatened to withdraw what support they do give me if I refuse. Are my parents being unreasonable, or am I the one being unreasonable for refusing?

Your parents have no right to inspect your room. You are an adult. This is your apartment, not theirs. Your mother is wrong. Your parents are being invasive. I think they think they're being reasonable bc they care about your well being, but they aren't respecting your autonomy.

Sometimes, being a parent means you gotta let your kids not do things the way you would or even not do things the way that is best for them. It's hard, but it's necessary.

If you still lived with your parents and your lack of cleanliness was affecting their lives, it might be different ... but this is just your parents being fucking weird.

[prettygirl-gabi]

Chapter 5: In the Spotlight

Rating: General Audiences

Warning: none

Paring: Paige Bueckers x !photographer fem reader

Fandom: Women's basketball

Summary: being the "babysitter"= fun...right?

Welcome to the chapter 5 of Through The Lens. I hope you all enjoy and there is more to come...stay tuned my loveies!! 🏀💕📸

The whispers started as soon as I entered the gym for practice the day after the Villanova game. People were staring, their eyes darting between their phones and me. A couple of players from the men’s team even snickered when I walked past.

I didn’t understand what was going on until KK intercepted me by the bleachers, her expression somewhere between amused and concerned.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

She sighed and held up her phone. On the screen was a blurry video of me walking into the locker room at Villanova. The caption read: “Paige Bueckers’ mystery girl? 👀”

I groaned, my face heating up. “Are you kidding me? This is so out of context!”

“Yeah, but people love a good rumor,” KK said, scrolling through the comments. “Most of them are just shipping you and Paige.”

“Shipping us?” I echoed, incredulous. “We’re not even—”

“Relax,” she cut in, her tone gentle. “It’s just noise. Don’t let it get to you.”

But it did get to me. All day, I couldn’t shake the feeling that everyone was watching me, judging me. By the time practice ended, I was ready to throw in the towel on my entire final project.

I went straight to Coach Geno’s office, my camera bag slung over my shoulder. He looked up from his desk, his brow furrowing when he saw me.

“Y/N, what’s going on?”

“I can’t do this anymore,” I said, placing my project proposal on his desk. “The rumors, the stares—it’s too much. I didn’t sign up for this.”

He leaned back in his chair, studying me. “Let me ask you something. Why did you choose this project?”

I hesitated. “Because I wanted to challenge myself. To tell a story that mattered.”

“And do you think you’ve done that so far?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

He stood, walking around his desk to stand in front of me. “I see potential in you, Y/N. You have an eye for this—an instinct. Don’t let a bunch of gossip derail what could be an incredible project. Push through. Finish what you started.”

I nodded, his words sinking in. “Okay. I’ll try.”

Later that evening, I found myself in the gym. The empty court was a welcome reprieve from the noise of the day. I was adjusting my camera settings when the sound of sneakers on hardwood made me look up.

Paige.

“Hey,” she said, her smile soft. “Mind if I join you?”

I shook my head, and she dropped her bag on the sidelines before walking over. “Rough day?”

“You could say that,” I replied, letting out a bitter laugh.

“Let me guess,” she said, crossing her arms. “The video?”

I nodded, surprised she even knew about it.

“People are ridiculous,” she said. “But you can’t let them win. Come on.”

She grabbed a ball and motioned for me to follow her to the three-point line. “Let’s work off some of that pressure. I mean granted im kinda banned drom practice though.”

“I’m terrible at basketball, and yeah you are banned.” I warned.

“Then it’s a good thing you’ve got me as your coach, speaking of coah i asked fo sit with you..so like you're my babysitter” she said with a evil grin.

The first few shots were laughably bad, but Paige was patient, adjusting my form and giving me tips. By the time I finally sank a three, I was laughing so hard I almost dropped the ball.

“There you go!” she cheered, throwing her arms in the air.

“Beginner’s luck,” I said, but I couldn’t stop smiling.

She pulled out her phone, recording me as I took another shot. “For posterity,” she said when I gave her a questioning look.

“Hang on,” I said, running out to my car to grab my personal camera. When I came back, she was dribbling the ball lazily at half-court.

“Let’s use this instead,” I said, setting up the tripod.

We spent the next hour goofing off, filming everything from trick shots to ridiculous commentary. Paige even tried to reenact her infamous Villanova assist, but it ended with her tripping over her own feet.

As it was getting late we headed back at my dorm, we poured Shirley Temples into a giant pitcher, the fizz of the soda filling the room.

“To surviving rumors and bad basketball shots,” Paige said, holding up her glass.

I clinked mine against hers. “And to you, for teaching me how to shoot a three.”

She laughed, leaning back against the couch. “You’re a natural.”

I rolled my eyes but smiled. For the first time in days, I felt like I could breathe again.

As the night wore on, we sat there talking, the camera still sitting on the coffee table. Part of me wanted to grab it, to capture this moment. But another part of me knew that some things were better left undocumented, kept just between us.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

Tag list: @sayurireidotcom , @astroeliza , @paxaz535 .... (more to be added)

[northopalshore]

hii gaia <3 i was wondering if whenever you have time if you could give like a mini guide like you did for the upc for what each planet represents in the briede persona chart for yourself (or for people whos fs is a woman) im trying to read for myself but am struggling a bit with what each might represent in this context

Briede persona chart

Mini guide

Masterlist | Boda persona chart analysis | Union persona chart masterlist

How to use: If you associate with the role of the bride in a marriage then read this as if reading for you as a wife. If you are interested in women, read it as you are reading about your future wife. Also, for those of you reading for yourself as a wife, please note that not all aspects take place immediately after marriage. Some take time to develop & activate. Your growth does not end after just a few years in marriage!

♡ Please do not repost or reupload without consent ʕ⁠´⁠•⁠ᴥ⁠•⁠`⁠ʔฅ🔉

🐇Rising sign

The rising sign in the briede (19029) persona chart shows you (or your wife's') your general attitude after marriage, how you/they carry themselves or how people will describe them.

🐇Sun

Shows the type of character you (or your wife) embody after marriage. How you are seen, where you are usually seen after marriage. It's the character that you grow into as a mother/the feminine archetype in marriage. Also shows what you may take pride in as well.

🐇Moon

Your (or your wife's) emotional drive or state of contentment after marriage. What influences your emotions strongly, what you prioritize, what brings you satisfaction & comfort. How they handle their emotions.

🐇Mercury

Your (or your wife's) way of thinking & communicating as a spouse. What you may think about the most or what worries you as well. Your/their focus after marriage. It can also have different meanings depending on where it is in the chart!

🐇Venus

How you (or your wife) express yourself after marriage, your relationship with your partner or how you act around people you love, how you take care of yourself & your family. Changes meaning depending on which house it's in.

🐇Mars

What you (or your wife ) tend to do most as after marriage, your goals, your motives, what keeps you busy, things that may require a lot of your attention & energy. Your anger & ambition.

🐇Jupiter

What you will be doing a lot of, where you may face growth or expansion & even more stability. It can also translateto lessons or where peace of mind is brought to you in marriage.

🐇Saturn

The long-term lessons that marriage teaches you, long-term struggles, skills that you may acquire in the long-term, your limitations as a spouse (what is restricted). Where you may gain more maturity/ perseverance.

🐇Neptune

Things that take up your mind, what you daydream about after marriage, where your creativity is brought to life (or where you need to be more creative in). Some meanings can change depending on where it is in the chart as well.

🐇Union

Your relationship with your partner, how you cooperate with them, what brings you together.

🐇Juno

Your possible contracts and obligations, your work, your relationship. What brings you joy/abundance/satisfaction in your marriage.

🐇Pluto

Possible struggles & hardships you may face, & your influence. Things that will transform you. Can have different meanings depending on which house it's in.

🐇Chiron

Hard lessons, challenges, what drains your (your wife's ) energy the most, what you tend to worry about the most. Areas where you may need to sacrifice a lot from. What "hurts" you about/after marriage.

🐇Uranus

Unpredictable changes, where you may face a turning point after marriage. Where individuality can show up. Unconventional things in your marriage. Can change meaning depending on the placement as well.

🐇 North Node

The purpose of your marriage. The type of person that marriage leads you to become. The focus that your life adheres to after marriage which usually manifests itself more prominently after a few years i.e takes place later in the marriage.

🐇Briede

How you portray yourself as a wife/your wife, your literal duties, how you may choose to act when acting as a wife/woman of the house. What you may feel obligated to do.

🐇Groom

Your spouse/you (if you resonate with the groom's energy). What your husband tends to do after marriage, his obligations, how you see him. How he acts on a daily basis or when you're with him.

Additional notes

👉🏻 (0°) ?

Generally it isn't connected to any particular sign, but it ushers you to shift your attention to the sign, house & aspects it makes instead. I don't think it's useless, it's an enhancer since a new moon always brings in new/unstable energy.

👉🏻 In retrograde?

Can mean one of two things;

1. It takes longer to manifest.

2. You may have struggles with it in the future or have an unhealthy relationship/tendency regarding that house/planet/asteroid.

Stay tuned for the complete Briede persona chart Masterlist!

˚₊‧꒰ა paid readings available ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Hope this helps ♡

@northopalshore

@northopalshore briede persona chart 2025 all rights reserved. Disclaimer

[fairytaleendingss]

Inedible

Summary: You feel guilty when your OCD prevents you from eating the dinner James has cooked for you.

Pairing: James Potter x fem!reader

CW: OCD symptoms, food anxiety, intrusive thoughts, mentions of food poisoning.

Hey guys! This is kind of different from some other stuff I've written previously but I wanted to give it a go. I'm kind of nervous for people to read it since it's quite personal so be gentle haha.

For context, I have been experiencing symptoms of OCD for the last couple of years (quite intensely at times) and I've unfortunately been unable to receive an official diagnosis so far. However, I also deeply resonate with many people's experiences with the condition and I have always wished there would be more fanfiction and content in general which depicted these experiences. So I figured, why not give it a go myself?

This is solely based on personal experiences and I'm aware that everyone has different symptoms so it might not be 100% accurate to everyone's experience. But I hope that someone out there is able to relate to it.

Let me know what you think and if you'd like to see me write more fics that involve a reader with OCD.

--

You sat at the dinner table as James bounced around the kitchen. The clattering of pots and pans could be heard as your boyfriend worked on his self-proclaimed "masterpiece".

You had had a long week at work and come Friday night, James insisted on treating you to a surprise homecooked dinner. You appreciated the gesture but James wasn't particularly well known in his friend group for his cooking capabilities and that made you slightly anxious. He insisted that he knew what he was doing, that this was his mother's old recipe and he'd helped her make it 1000 times growing up but something inside of you was still unsure. His determination to exile you from the kitchen wasn't helping matters either.

"Hey, honey, if you're going to use that cheese in the fridge, could you check the expiration date? It's been in there a little while." You called as your foot bounced up and down beneath the table.

"Don't worry, I'm not using that one," he called back. More pots and pans rattled around and you couldn't help but chuckle at the noise (and inevitable mess) he was making.

You leaned back in your chair and heaved out a heavy breath, trying to calm your nerves.

"This is so stupid," you muttered to yourself. "It's literally just dinner."

James emerged from the kitchen a few minutes, carrying two full plates and looking particularly pleased with himself. He placed one down on the table in front of you and took a seat opposite.

"Here you are, love. Dinner is served."

You mustered the best smile you could before glancing down at the plate in front of you. You did your best to contain your disappointment.

Chicken.

Dear god, why did it have to be chicken?

You looked up to see that James was already digging in, while a million thoughts raced through your mind.

What if he hasn't cooked it properly?

You'll get Salmonella and end up in Hospital.

If you eat this, you'll get sick and miss out on your friend's birthday party tomorrow. You've been looking forward to that for weeks!

"Is everything okay?"

James was staring up at you with those big brown eyes of his and you felt guilt begin to flood every inch of your body. He'd work so hard to make you this! He was so excited. You were letting him down by not trying it.

You nodded shortly, sending him a tight lipped smile as you picked up your knife and fork. Quickly you scooped up some of the vegetables on your plate and shoved them into your mouth.

Of course they tasted delicious.

They were sitting up against the chicken! What if they're contaminated with bacteria?

Did he remember to use different chopping boards for the meat and vegetables?

You shook your head discretely, as if in attempt to clear it of intrusive thoughts. It didn't work.

For the next 10 minutes you watched James eat while hesitantly picking at the greenery on your plate, all the while guilt gnawed at the walls of your stomach. You felt so bad that you were almost ready to cry.

At one point you picked up your knife and dug it into a piece of the chicken. You examined the slice thoroughly, shifting it on your fork to see it under the light. It looked fine. Not pink at all. Perfectly cooked.

But what if you just can't see it properly?

What if another section of it is undercooked?

You just couldn't do it. No matter how hard you tried, you just couldn't bring yourself to eat it. The thought only made the pit in your stomach grow deeper. James was going to be so upset.

As if on cue, the boy looked up at you, observing the anguished look on your face.

"Hey, what's going on? You've hardly touched your meal. Don't you like it?"

Your heart clenched and you felt tears burn against the back of your eyes.

"No it's not that. I'm just not very hungry tonight."

James raised a brow at you, setting his cutlery down. "Come on, love, I know that's not true. I've been listening to your stomach growl all evening. Tell me what's really going on."

You sniffled lightly, looking down at your hands which were fidgeting in your lap.

"I'm so sorry James. I feel really bad but I don't know if I can eat this."

You didn't look up at him. You couldn't bare to see the disappointment on his face. Feelings of shame and embarrassment began to join the flurry of emotions that swirled within you. You felt ridiculous. It was only a piece of chicken after all.

"Sweetheart, look at me."

You didn't know when exactly it had happened - you were too distracted with your own shame - but at some point, James had moved from his chair and was now kneeling at your side.

He lifted a gentle hand to brush away the tears that had begun to leak down your cheeks.

"Hey, it's okay. You don't have to eat it if you don't want to."

You sighed, a new wave of tears beginning to fall as you looked up at him. "I do want to eat it. It looks amazing but I just... I can't!"

You were getting frustrated now. You were annoyed that your stupid brain wouldn't let you do something as simple as eat the meal your boyfriend had so kindly made you.

"Y/n, it's okay. I understand, you can't help it," James comforted, pulling you towards him and engulfing you in his strong arms.

He gently rubbed your back, whispering words of reassurance into your ear as more frustrated tears fell.

After a while, you pulled away, straightening yourself up, feeling absolutely mortified by your reaction to something as simple as a meal in front of you.

James, however, seemed completely unphased.

"Why don't we put this in the fridge and order some take-away instead?"

You looked up at him with wide eyes. "But you just spent so long making this for me."

"Eh, not to worry," he reassured casually. "You're just having a bad day, lovely. I'm not going to pressure you to eat it. Besides, Sirius is coming over tomorrow. I'm sure he'll eat it. He's always keen to go through our left-overs."

You sniffled, letting out a watery chuckle.

"That's my girl," James muttered affectionately. "Now why don't you look up the menu from that Pizza place that you like down the road while I tidy up."

You nodded lovingly, watching James whistle to himself as he wandered back into the kitchen.

You let out a sigh, pulling out your phone. Thank god for James Potter.

[tsukimefuku]

the event (1) ❖ nanami kento

this part → part 2 (soon) | mdni! | the nile is a river in egypt 👍

summary: after struggling for so long with the feelings you had for nanami, your colleague and closest friend, you finally decide to put an end to your misery and confess to him. little did you know there was no misery left for you to wallow in that night — none at all. alternatively: nanami was a gentleman, but holy hell, given the context, there weren't many ways he could misunderstand the phrase "I want you".

tags: jujutsu kaisen, sorcerer!f!reader, colleagues in the field, 18+, alcohol, explicit! smut (oral f!receiving, piv, squirting), 1/3 plot 2/3 filth ratio, it’s romance guys, nanami x reader, reader is emotionally stunted, they're clearly in love, angst, fluff, hurt and comfort, basically a book chapter, no beta my inner demons proofread this.

wc: 8k

notes, etc.: if i have to rewrite this one more time i will commit a felony. inspo → just like you do (carly simon) and sonnet (the verve). saved by smooth operator (sade). the bit "love is something brave people do" is inspired by fleabag's last episode. appetizers for this fic are the shorties “would you let me die?” and “where does your mind drift”.

❖ collection of stories: "jujutsu partners au" → masterlist

this is big but very worth it, i promise.

Today, you were determined to finally utter those three words and put an end to your own personal brand of misery. 

Ever since you and Nanami kind of discussed if getting involved would be a bad idea — he said it would, but you had your doubts — you just couldn't stop thinking about it. He knew you had feelings for him. Maybe. He mentioned that he believed you thought about him. 

But the thing was… nothing was actually said. It was all implied. Implied into oblivion.

You two had been working together for a good while now, and you didn't fail to notice that, in the most recent encounters you've had, be it on missions or just having a drink at your favorite bar, your heart would involuntarily throb whenever you gazed at him for too long. 

Not only that, but you were finally able to admit to yourself that your gratitude towards the sorcerer, who saved your life years ago, had become love. You were, without a shred of a doubt, in love with him, and the fact that he clearly stated that getting involved would be ill-advised — his words, not yours — was a special type of torture.

So be it — you were confessing your feelings for him today, at least to have a definitive answer. It would be better to get shot down than keep doing this little tip-toe dance around the unsaid. You just couldn't do this anymore.

Thing was… You were terrible with feelings. And words. And putting feelings into words. And also just feeling your feelings, in general.

So you decided to invite him to a bar — like you always did —, and chat the night away — again, like you always did — to try easing yourself into this conversation in a comfortable, known setting. Your drinks were downed until the middle of the night like you were filling up a Jeep tank, trying to fuel yourself with liquor-bought courage. 

Eventually you slowed down, because certainly throwing up would be less than ideal. Better to be sober and chicken out than drunk and vomiting.

You were so in your own head, though, that you failed to realize Nanami was accompanying you in the "getting completely hammered" department until about a few hours prior, partially regaining his sobriety, with a lot of things swirling around in his own mind.

Mostly, he still thought about the non-conversation you both had about thinking of each other. More specifically, the fact that you inquired, right at the end, if it would really be such a bad idea.

Would it? 

Could he dare to dream of a life beyond killing curses and hoping not to die every time he stepped his foot into a mission?

He wasn't sure about it anymore, and could feel his usual negative stance about getting romantically involved with someone while still being a jujutsu sorcerer wavering — an absolute first for him. He was hardly someone to be swayed on his stances in life.

But this time, just maybe, you were able to do that without even realizing.

He caught himself gazing at you more frequently than usual, and wondering what would be the texture of your flower-scented hair tangled in between his fingers.

Today, your hair smelled like jasmine flowers.

Unlike you, however, Nanami was unsure if he'd touch upon the subject that night, specifically, in case he ever decided to do so. He’d prefer to talk about it in an appropriate setting — dinner at a restaurant, maybe? No, you weren't someone who'd like that. Perhaps at a picnic, she does enjoy nature...

He tried shaking those thoughts away along with his feelings, but it didn’t work.

The conversation was very pleasant, and you two were reminiscing about his mission at your hometown where you both met years ago. 

”Do you remember when I tried cooking breakfast? Oh, that was a good one,” you jested, chuckling. 

Nanami nodded, resting the edge of his whiskey cup on his bottom lip. 

“I’d say that was a terrible one. You nearly set your entire kitchen on fire trying to fry eggs,” he noted, letting a smile take over his lips.

You laughed in response.

”Yeah, you’re probably right. But at least you rescued me and made one of the best tamagoyaki I’ve ever eaten.”

He put his glass down on the counter, looking at you with those adoring, beautiful, brown honeyed eyes.

"One of?"

You chuckled, trying not to stare too much.

Good God, he's looking gorgeous tonight.

“Oh, come on. According to you, I can barely taste my food the way I eat, mixing everything up in my plate,” you joked, “I don’t have the same particular taste buds of yours.”

Nanami sighed, rolling his eyes at your teasing, taking a sip of his whiskey.

The ice had melted a little, and he felt the watery coat on the drink with displeasure, grimacing a little.

Somehow, Nanami failed to see the irony in that.

You noticed, and laughed a little before continuing.

"The other amazing tamagoyaki I had was when you rescued me from starving during my first week here. But I don't think I'd really regret burning Jujutsu High down, even if it was an accident."

Nanami shook his head lightly, the smile still on his face betraying his half-hearted chide.

Then, after the banter evaporated in the air, that moment finally came.

The absolute silence.

Arguably the perfect opportunity to say these types of things… So you began.

"Nanami, I…" words gagged. "I wanted to tell you something."

His body visibly tensed up a little, but he probably didn't realize it.

He knew, of course.

Nanami noticed all the recent instances you'd stare at him, and ever since pulling you in for a not-so innocent hug when you were both stranded on the road after a mission together, he felt dangerously close to crossing this boundary. 

Nanami's words were easily controlled, always so neatly put together with mathematical precision to express his thoughts. However, ever since he crossed the line of physical contact beyond pure platonic affection, it had been difficult keeping his hands to himself. 

Right now, he wanted to cup your face with his palms and brush his thumbs against your cheeks.

Perhaps even press his lips against you- stop that, you’re not a teenager anymore.

This comfort zone of avoiding the discussion about the feelings you both had for each other was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. 

"What?"

You gulped, and took a few more sips of beer.

"I…"

Your voice got stuck in your throat.

Your syllable had stretched long enough for this to have become a little awkward.

"I wanted to thank you," you blurted out, more for your benefit than his.

Nanami was equal parts relieved, disappointed, and surprised.

Did he actually want you to tell him you had feelings for him?

"Thanks for welcoming me to Jujutsu High, for shepherding me all this time, and for being a reliable, good friend. I was ready to face hell here, but it was… much better than I had anticipated. So, thank you, Nanami."

He looked at you, and both held each other's gaze for a moment. His hazel brown eyes were always something that lured you in, and you surely enjoyed how he'd always remove his green shades to talk to you.

Seeing them felt strangely — and endearingly — intimate.

"You're welcome," he offered in a kind note.

"Last call!" the bartender stated loudly, as you and Nanami looked at each other, feeling somewhat disappointed that the night was about to be over.

Stepping outside after paying, you both realized it was raining — something neither had noticed from inside the bar.

With half a mind to do something, definitely inebriated, and still with a declaration stuck in your throat, you absentmindedly made a question to Nanami.

"Can I wait the rain out at your place?"

He did live close by, in any case.

For a second, you realized you were probably butting in his rest hours, and felt a little embarrassed.

"Yes," he replied immediately, also absentmindedly, before you could retreat your request.

***

It was actually the first time you ever visited his apartment, and it was interesting to see his place. To no one's surprise, Nanami's pristine apartment, with his collections of books and CD's — he still had an actual stereo CD player — felt as every bit put together as Nanami himself did.

His kitchen drawers alone were surely more organized than your income tax return.

You sat on the counter and had your drenched hair haphazardly covered with a blue towel as Nanami fixed something to eat for the both of you.

The smell of cooked rice and eggs filled the air, hugging your senses, as you watched, still halfway drunk, how he skillfully walked back and forth, being somewhat inebriated himself, making way more than instant noodles, your first choice after proposing you both ate something to ease the alcohol out.

You stared at his back while he cooked, trying to push the thought of telling him how you felt to the back of your mind, at least for a while, just so you could enjoy the following moments without the sensation of impending doom.

As he finished plating the food, you were nothing short of impressed — the man mustered up the skill to cook omurice while inebriated, a feat you couldn't do sober even in one of your best days. 

"This is incredible, you're such a badass," you remarked as Nanami gave you a plate with a pair of chopsticks.

"It's a simple recipe," he replied, getting his own and taking a bite out of it as he leaned against the sink counter, facing you.

"Oh, it surely is,” you remarked, ironically.

You were getting ready to eat as Nanami interrupted you.

"Don't desecrate it," he chided, referencing the way you'd usually stir up your food on your plate until it became an unidentifiable goo before eating, "try to taste your food at least this once."

You chuckled a little, acquiescing.

"Okay. This is too beautiful to get vandalized, anyway."

Nanami huffed, the faintest ghost of a smile on his lips, before he took another bite.

"I am so going to regret this entire thing tomorrow," you stated, taking the first piece out of your plate, “I drank like a sailor.” 

It was absolutely delicious, of course. It was Nanami's food, after all.

He swallowed before proceeding.

"Me too, most likely. I hadn't drunk this heavily since… ever."

"Hah, me neither."

You both resumed eating peacefully, partaking in a comfortable and cozy silence for the next few minutes. During that time, he looked at you without you noticing, and realized just how much he wanted this small sliver of peace — sharing a good meal with you in his kitchen after a remarkably pleasant night — to keep going for eternity. 

You were looking so adorable with his blue towel over your drenched hair.

As you were finished, he took both plates and put them inside the sink, going back to his original position. Nanami had already removed his tie, his weapon holster and opened the top of his blue buttoned shirt by this point, both of his sleeves rolled up for him to cook.

It was becoming increasingly hard not to stare.

"Thank you, Nanami," you said, smiling at him.

"It's no trouble," he answered, softly smiling back at you.

His smile was much sweeter than usual, and it sent your heart throbbing against your chest.

The urge came again, to finally tell him.

However, when you actually spoke, something entirely unexpected came out of your mouth.

"Why did you come back to Jujutsu High after years of working a regular job?"

Nanami was surprised, to say the least, and pondered for a while before resuming his answer.

He had left the jujutsu world shortly after the mission where he met you and ‘failed you’ — that last part solely according to him — so, needless to say, this was a sensitive topic. 

"Well, I had known the jujutsu world, and after entering the corporate one, I realized both were idiotic. So-"

"No, not that speech," you interjected, "I want to know exactly what happened for you to come back. I mean, when we ran into each other years ago, you seemed pretty resolute in trying your retired-by-40 and moving to Malaysia plan, and from what I gathered, not long after that, you just came back, out of nowhere."

Nanami was silent, because he remembered vividly what had transpired, and that you had something to do with it.

"Well," he began, "a few days after we had that conversation, I went into a bakery to buy breakfast. It was always the same person at the cash register, and she had a small fly head curse on her shoulders for a while. It began affecting her sleep, given her complaints. I had avoided doing something about it, but our conversation kept ringing in my head."

Nanami averted his gaze, as if remembering the moment in its details before proceeding.

"After I exorcised it, her shoulder pain subsided, and she thanked me. That was it."

You remembered well how you chided him, telling Nanami to go back into sorcery because the world of jujutsu needed people who truly cared, such as himself. You just didn’t think it would have such a direct connection to the reasons he came back.

"So... you realized the importance of the job we do?" you inquired, with a half-smile pulled on your cheek.

He sighed. "Something like that."

"Oh, Mr. Nanami 'I'm just doing my job' Kento... you have finally understood that meaning is something relevant to you, it seems," you remarked, light-spirited.

He smiled, looking the other way, somewhat appreciating the fact that he had just been read like a book by you.

"But... don't say I had something to do with you coming back," you stated, "I might feel responsible if something happens to you."

Even as a joke, this snapped at your heart a little. The mere thought of losing him felt terrifying.

Nanami sighed, smile vanishing, looking back at you. 

"You always see things from a perspective of assigning responsibility and guilt... It is a perspective that usually warrants unnecessary suffering."

You scoffed, still wearing your mid-smirk on your face.

"Oh, and looking at everything from a protective perspective is any different? I mean, both boil down to us thinking we're responsible for other people's fates."

He was slightly taken aback, before smiling discreetly and crossing his arms in front of his chest. 

"I guess you're right."

Nanami looked at you, and seemed to be staring at your cheek. Under the dim light from the stove hood, you could make out the contours of his face — his sharp jaw, his chiseled cheekbones, and his now exposed forearms with taut, sculpted muscles, right under the rolled up sleeves of his blue shirt. 

If pupil dilation could be felt, you would have definitely felt it at that moment.

The urge came up again, but by this point, you were already feeling defeated enough at your pathetic inability of confessing your feelings, so you just let your mouth roll with whatever came out of it.

"I really admire you, Nanami."

You surprised even yourself.

His eyes then met yours.

"Do you?"

Pondering on your words, you nodded, thinking a little about it.

"You're such a calm, collected and responsible person. You seem to always know exactly what you're doing, meanwhile I'm usually just guessing around. No wonder Ino and Yuuji look up to you."

Even under the soft lighting, you could swear you saw Nanami's face blush a little.

"Thank you," he stated, bowing his head slightly towards your direction.

You smiled at him and sighed right after.

"Most times, I don't think I'm someone people would call admirable or actually look up to."

This was something you hadn't anticipated you'd say. You had never told that to anyone.

But, well, this was him. This was Nanami.

"Why do you say that?" he inquired in earnest.

"Because... Because I'm often hanging by a thread, just trying to survive. I'm not doing great things. I'm barely existing, sometimes."

He mulled his thoughts over for a second before answering you.

"You have a good capacity for adapting, taking whatever life hands you and doing the best you can with it," he noted, "and you keep going even if you feel like you're guessing. Even when you don't know where you're going. That takes bravery, and I find it to be admirable."

Now you were the one surprised, and you could feel your entire face burning the moment he finished uttering those words. You were never one to take compliments easily, but this was a whole other level.

You stood there, mouth slightly agape, faltering without any words.

His eyes had returned to your cheek, and in a swift movement, you heard him say excuse me as he stepped into your direction, rubbing his thumb on it to take off some food you hadn't realized that was still stuck on your face.

Nanami barely registered that the thoughts looping around his mind the entire night about touching you had finally taken the best of him.

Before he could remove his hand, though, you held it in place, lifting your eyes to meet him.

His palm felt warm against your skin, his digits rough, and perfect. Just like he was.

Nanami's expression was unreadable as he gazed back at you, and you began hearing your heartbeats against your ears, muffling the sound of the tapping rain on the window.

Words failed him too, and he was guided by his body once again.

Nanami lowered his face and softly pressed his lips over yours, still tasting like whiskey and Demi-glace, which sent waves — that you couldn't quite discern if were hot or cold, perhaps both — all throughout your body.

It was a quick kiss, though, because shortly after, Nanami backed out, still with his eyes closed, and had something resembling a frown on his face.

"I apologize, that was inappropriate," he mumbled, beginning to pull his hand out from your cheek. You, however, held it in place, and that got him to open his eyes and look at you.

He seemed taken by trepidation under his usual collected demeanor, and his lower lip had the slightest twitch to it as his eyes flickered quickly between your mouth and your eyes.

For a moment, you felt like you were looking into the eyes of the Nanami you once knew — the bangs, the uniform, the seventeen-year-old version of him.

Little did you know that your corresponding younger version was looking right back at him with the same bated breath, just like the teens-becoming-adults in the most traumatic ways you two once were.

"Stop apologizing and kiss me," you pleaded, edging your face closer to his, pulling his towel off your head.

You could feel his breath exhaling against your skin, as Nanami approached his body to yours, putting himself in between your knees, and cupped your face in his hands. His body was incredibly warm, just like his hand, and his woody, musky scent sent your senses spiraling when he finally descended his lips to yours, determined on taking his time — after all, this was a kiss ten years in the making.

His mouth felt velvety and supple, and you both melted into each other while exploring the way his head tilted against yours, how your nails would eventually find their way up the nape of his neck, how your breath would hitch every time he pressed his mouth against yours more intently. Your lips slid wetly over each other with a newfound ease none of you expected.

You were both dipping your toes in the ocean and testing the temperature before committing to dive into deeper waters, taking all the time into familiarizing with the feeling of each other's bodies.

Nanami's hands descended to your waist, leaving a trail of heat on the way, and you let out a soft moan into his mouth when he pressed them against you. He groaned lowly, a sound reverberating from the depths of his chest, as he parted his lips from yours and put some distance in between your faces with his eyes closed.

You didn't understand, but before you could ask anything, he began speaking.

"I don't mean to assume," he stated, letting his forehead rest on yours.

"Hm... What do you mean?"

"I... What I mean is we can stop, in case you don’t..​. We're both still somewhat under the influence. You are," Nanami replied, opening his eyes to look into yours. The faltering restraint dwelling in them was palpable. 

In the back of your mind, you wondered if there was any way of loving him more than you already did. Even now, he was so mindful and careful with you.

"I want this," you replied, resolute, "I want you. I've wanted it all for a very long time. It's not a drunken decision, I mean it."

His gaze softened in a way you had never seen before, one of his hands ascending to brush his thumb over your cheek. Nanami snuggled his nose against yours and sighed, seemingly fluttering.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'm sure. I want you," you repeated, incisively.

He let out a huff of air against your mouth, and you could smell his breath, mingled with the scent emanating from him and his clothes. Intoxicating wasn't a strong enough word — you were completely enthralled, entranced and overwhelmed by him. Every sound got muted, but the sound of his breathing. Every smell disappeared, but his. And there was no other temperature in the room other than the warmth of his body.

You had entered tunnel vision mode, and at the end of it, he was your light.

Closing the remaining inches that separated the both of you, he brushed his lips against yours, whispering, "then have me. Have all of me."

Still cupping the side of your face, Nanami tilted it, finally fitting your lips against his again, like lovely little puzzle pieces getting more and more accustomed to each other by the second. He felt around your contours, pressing the tip of his tongue softly over the seam of your mouth, and you warmly welcomed him in, his true taste lingering just under the drinks and sauces being enough to knock the air out of your lungs.

He was salty, fresh, and a breeze of cool air by the seashore.

There were a few times you wondered what he'd be like, but your fantasies were quick to pale in comparison to the reality of him.

Nanami’s broken restraint was completely done for, and just this once, he wanted to let it come tumbling down like a house of cards, as he parted to gaze at your disheveled hair, your flustered face, your slightly puffy lips.

His chest swelled full and content at that sight.

He met you once again, and the ruffling from the fall was sounding better than he could have ever hoped for, insistent heart beat pushing against his ears, encompassing your breathless kissing like a sonnet.

Nanami's hands, however, didn't dare explore beyond your waist, and all this intense make out session was starting to make your panties feel uncomfortable against your pooling arousal. You were starting to feel antsy, and your body was nearly twitching at the aching desire. You needed some kind of relief, or you'd go insane.

Nanami was a gentleman, but holy hell, given the context, there weren't many ways he could misunderstand the phrase I want you.

You put your hands over his and slip them down to cup your ass, parting from his lips for a moment.

"Stop keeping your hands to yourself. Touch me," you pleaded, with some type of simmering desperation to your voice that you hadn't yet heard — never, actually.

He looked at you, and seemed equally desperate in an unfathomable way. He pulled you in, kneading his fingers fiercely against your skin while moaning into your mouth, and pressed your bodies hard enough for you to feel him pulsating through multiple layers of fabric.

Oh, my.

You knew he was strong, but this was something else. 

Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his hips, and drew the tips of your fingernails down his back, while grinding over his growing erection with your clothed core. Nanami let out a muffled groan on your skin and began kissing your neck intently with messy, open-mouthed kisses.

He put his hands under your thighs and whispered in your ear, "hold on to me."

That caught your attention from your hazy brain.

"I... My hair is still wet. My clothes are a little damp, too. I'm kind of a mess right now," you told him, chuckling sheepishly.

This man's apartment was the most immaculate place you had ever been in your life, and the last thing you wanted to do was to dirty it around with dripping water from the rain. In his bed, of all places.

Nanami immediately pulled himself back and held your face, locking eyes with you.

"You are beautiful right now," he remarked, not giving you enough time for an answer, as he pressed another kiss on your lips — this time, more urgent, a little sloppy, but just as passionate, if not more. You gasped into his mouth, letting your body take control.

In an instant, your arms were draped over his shoulders, your legs tightened firmly around his body, and his strong hands held the back of your thighs, as Nanami lifted you from that counter like you weighed nothing.

You squeaked in surprise, and he uttered a soft, deep chuckle before planting a quick peck on your lips. 

After walking you both into his room, he calmly descended towards the mattress, laying you down delicately and climbing his way on top of you.

When he approached his face to yours, you smiled at him, and he smiled back, sharing a tender moment of silent closeness.

This was probably your favorite shared quietude yet.

“I should get out of these wet clothes,” you stated, giggling softly, before tugging your shirt over your head.

He huffed a soft smiling hum in return, as his palms found their way towards the sides of your hips. Their warmth clashed a stark contrast against your still dampened, cold skin, and his touch was electric, making you involuntarily sigh.

"Help me take these pants off," you cooed, relaxing your legs around his body.

Nanami didn’t need to be told twice, and swiftly slid his hands down to unzip you and pull your damp pants off while you unclasped your bra.

After he was done, his eyes lingered over the drenched patch on your underwear, a realization that definitely riled him up, as his breath got caught midway out his nostrils for a second.

Nanami’s fingers swirled around your bra straps, but before he removed it, you began unbuttoning his shirt, finishing off unclenching his belt and unzipping his pants.

"It would be unfair for me to be the only one exposed here," you remarked, light spirited, while smiling tenderly at him.

He smiled back very much the same way, and pulled his shirt off, downing his pants, letting it all become a wrinkled puddle on the floor. Nanami caged you in between his arms, and pressed a quick kiss on your lips, asking, "do you ever stop?"

"Why don't you try to find out?" you slyly replied.

Nanami wasn't usually one to appreciate being teased. This was especially true when it came to Gojo annoying the hell out of him, and he could — and would — also get annoyed at your snarky teasing from time to time.

But it felt different with you. He wasn't nearly as irritated as he would've been with anybody else.

Perhaps because you teased him with love.

Your hands pulled your bra off and tossed it aside, and for some seconds, he was speechless, contouring his eyes all over your body. With butterflies on his chest, he finally cupped your face in his hands again before kissing you once more, and you couldn’t help but notice he really liked holding you like that when he kissed you — and you'd let him, every time he wanted to.

It was lovely to be held so preciously under such an adoring touch.

Letting go of your lips, Nanami began planting kisses under your jaw, descending towards your neck, and nesting his face in between your breasts, inhaling your scent with his face laid over your skin. With your encouraging hand tangling in his hair, he began kissing and licking his way around, kneading on your breasts with his palms. Your hips instantly bucked up against him, at the same time you let out a needy moan.

He noticed it, very pleased, and gave you the tiny mercy of removing your panties.

Still with his mouth plastered on your skin, Nanami descended one hand towards your folds, and groaned the second his fingers touched over your wetness, cock twitching inside his underwear.

You were drenched.

He sounded so satisfied, you couldn’t help but blush a little in between your moans and mewls, wanting to brat out just a little.

“Hah-- I did say- a-ah… that I wanted you,” you half jested, trying to fend off your fleeting embarrassment, “w-what did you… hah-- expect?” 

He stopped briefly, and lifted his face to look at you, sighing with his classic I could be eye rolling at you right now expression.

You smiled mischievously, fully aware he noticed the teasing.

Nanami brushed his fingers above your clit softly, not breaking eye contact, and you thrust your hips up again, mewling mindlessly. Huffing, you tried saying something, but he pressed his fingers a little more intently, having your words turn into incoherent moaning tumbling down past your lips.

At that moment, you just knew…

You stood defeated.

“Finally, you relentless little devil,” he mumbled, kissing his way down your body, as you huffed a few chuckles in between your pleasured sounds.

If he was so hellbent on shutting down your antics like that, you’d probably try to keep them going all night long. Perhaps you could even break his composure completely.

The idea was enticing.

However, he was the one about to break you apart completely, as you realized when his wet, hot tongue got seared-flat against your clit, and stroked on your glistened folds with the ravenous dedication of a starving man.

Nanami was delighted to have finally shut down your quick-wit tease mouth completely, especially like this.

In the back of his mind, he realized he’d gladly do it every time you got on his nerves. 

Being a pretty tactile person, with heightened senses overall, Nanami was sure that tasting you would feel amazing, but this was otherworldly.

Completely enthralled, he began dipping his tongue inside you to drink you in, having your walls clenching immediately around it.

The sounds you made — your moaning and begging, as your thighs rubbed against his cheeks and fingers tugged on his hair — would be etched in his brain for eternity, he was sure of it.

The moment his hands pressed harder on your thighs, pulling them against his shoulders, and you let out a mixture of a squeal and a moan, something inside him snapped, sending his mouth into a feral quest against your cunt.

Groaning and panting into you, he lapped relentlessly on your folds, nuzzling your clit so intently it nearly sent you crawling over the walls. Your vision was white, starry, black, and then white again, and you wondered for a minute if this was all pleasure or if the light of the room was actually flickering. 

Mouth agape, your moans bounced off the walls, and your back arched desperately, while your entire body tightened with the tell-tale signs of an intense orgasm. Your toes were curling, your ears were ringing, and your face contorted in desperate need for release.

“D-don’t stop- don’t… Hah-- I-m… I-I… Hah---!“

Upon hearing your pleas, Nanami latched his lips on your clit and sucked on it so powerfully you didn’t get tipped over the edge, but was effectively thrown from it with no parachute or lifeline. 

Your entire body tensed and jolted. You came with a desperate cry, tightening your grip on his hair with bruising force. He let out a loud moan, trying to hold himself together as you fell apart on his mouth, and started to lick you softly to wean you off your high.

For a few seconds, your entire body stopped answering any voluntary movement signals from your brain, and you could’ve sworn you forgot your name.

You were sent to heaven and returned unscathed. 

Coming back to Earth, your grip on him loosened, and Nanami brought his mouth up to one of your thighs, pressing gentle kisses over it. 

When your vision wasn’t all abstract colors anymore, you looked down to see Nanami with hooded eyes, resting his chin over your mound, gazing at you like you were the most beautiful creature in existence.

Given what had just transpired, you found it to be incredibly absurd that this — him gazing at you — was what had you blushing violently.

But here you were, hiding your face under the back of your hand, as you chuckled sheepishly solely from the way he looked at you.

This beautiful, adoring man.

The urge to tell him how much you loved him came back, but even like this, so unclad and vulnerable, it was incredibly hard.

Nanami was barely blinking, wondering how he had allowed — or better, forced — himself to live without this, without you, for so long.

“I’m starting to feel embarrassed,” you said, equal parts joking and genuine, as you finally managed to meet his glance again. 

He blinked a few times, being pulled from his thoughts, whispering a half-hearted apology as he crawled his way back to you. 

His hair was a mess, his lips were rosy and puffy, and his eyes…

His eyes.

Trying to keep yourself from becoming a fluttering chaos all over again, you shook your head lightly as you resumed speaking.

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” you cooed, sliding your fingers down his face, pressing your lips to his. Nanami pushed his tongue inside your mouth, and you moaned in response, tasting your essence mixed in with his own flavor.

God, you could kiss him and taste this for hours on end.

His mouth and tongue flowed and veered softly, with no rush other than to imprint your flavor in him. Nanami clearly was a kisser — a very good one —, and was delighted to keep exploring you like that for as long as you’d let him. 

Suddenly, you had a little wicked idea creeping up on you, as you made some effort to finally part your lips from his and uttered, “you know what, I’m sorry.”

Nanami was puzzled.

“What do you m-“

With your strength back, you locked your legs on the sides of Nanami’s waist and rolled his body over, landing on top of him. 

His breath was caught for a moment before he smiled at you. Smiling back, you straddled yourself back, diving your fingers on the edges of his boxers to slide them down.

Nanami helped you by raising his body, and the moment you removed the piece of clothing, his cock sprang out, bearing a flushed, bulbous, red tip that mutely slapped against his belly. It was bigger than you anticipated, thicker too, and you wondered if you could fit it all in your mouth.

Probably not.

You also didn’t fail to notice the very evident damp patch on his underwear from his pre-cum alone.

He must be desperate right now, you thought to yourself, enticingly amused.

However, the moment you were about to wrap your fingers around him and descend, Nanami held your hand and sat up. He seemed slightly… Embarrassed?

“Hm… what is it?” you asked, pressing against his hand.

He cleared his throat.

“I’m… very wound up. Could we…” Nanami mumbled, words dying on their way out. 

Truth was, ever since the moment you were grinding your clothed cunt against him, his mind was boiling to the thought of burying himself inside you to the hilt.

There was no sugar-coating it. 

“Oh…” you let out, “so… you want me too?” you asked, a hint of amusement to your voice.

You weren’t the only one needy tonight.

He sighed from the depths of his soul.

“Stop teasing.”

His voice came out raspy, more of a plea than an actual chide.

The man was crumbling down, and it was delightful to watch The Nanami Kento, always so unflappable, falling apart like this.

You chuckled and planted a quick kiss on his lips.

“I’m sorry,” you offered in earnest.

He exhaled gently, gaze towards you softening as he did.

You blushed a little before proceeding.

“Where is the…”

“First drawer.”

Everything happened quickly. You snatched the condom from his nightstand and opened it. Nanami took it from your hands and slid it down his length. A soft sigh escaped his lips as the rubber snapped at the end.

Softly crawling your way towards him, you put both hands on his shoulders to straddle on his lap. Nanami locked his gaze on you, not breaking eye contact even for a second, right up until you both finally kissed again.

His hands began making their way down your back, and then…

You felt it.

The tip of Nanami’s fingers pressed against the scar you had right over your spine, and you gasped in pain as it hit the bundle of tangled nerves bumping over your skin. You instantly backed your face away with an aching grimace.

Nanami had witnessed how you got that scar in the fateful mission in which you two met years ago.

The sound of the blade piercing through your skin and flesh still lingered on in his nightmares.

His hand retreated so quickly you barely felt it leaving your body.

Following the aftershock, you opened your eyes to see him with his own eyes sealed shut, and Nanami appeared to be crawling his way back into his mind. His expression, usually so calm and collected, was replaced by a pained frown of his brows.

“I apologize, I… I’m…” he muttered, and you realized this wasn’t an apology for what just happened.

He still blamed himself for what had taken place then.

It broke your heart to shambles to see him like that, knowing full well nothing that transpired that night was his fault.

You cupped his jaw in your palms, and pressed your forehead to his.

"Hey, stop it. Stop apologizing, you haven't failed me. You never failed me."

Nanami's eyes were still very much sealed, and he seemed to be pulling even further away from you as the memories swirled around in his mind.

"Please, look at me," you pleaded, nuzzling against his face.

After a sigh, he answered, "I… I can't."

And he truly couldn't, still feeling the shame eating away at his chest like a parasite.

You scrambled your mind after something that might help, and finally realized the only thing you could say to pull him back.

Shit.

You were still terrified, and your entire body tensed up.

This is it. Now. I have to tell him now.

According to Nanami, you were brave.

And love, apparently, is something brave people do.

Still cupping his jaw, you sighed before letting the words come out of your mouth.

"Nanami Kento, I love you."

Your voice didn’t falter or stutter. Your declaration smoothly left your lips as naturally as breathing — the same way loving him came to you.

His breath caught halfway out, and he finally opened his eyes, soft and bare, gazing into yours.

"I love you, I have loved you for so long, I…" you repeated, sighing greatly, "I love you."

Nanami opened his mouth, but for a second, nothing — not even a huff of air — would pass. Knotting away in his throat, the words also struggled to form.

Should he? Could he? How deep in trouble would this launch the both of you?

Surpassing his worries, eventually, the words finally came out.

"I love you too."

The guilt and trauma had taken a backseat in his mind, at least for now.

When you heard Nanami’s words — heard him say that he loved you too —, your heart immediately began fluttering, and you could've sworn there was a ringing sound around the both of you.

There wasn't, though, just as much as the honeyed dewy warm rain that prickled over your entire skin was a manifestation of your love ridden excited imagination.

Smiling, you pulled him in for a kiss, and he intently pressed his lips against yours, no exploration left to be done — your tongues, by this point of the night, had met and familiarized themselves with every inch of each other's mouths, breaths, and moans.

Mindlessly, his hands plastered themselves back into your body, and brushed up from your hips, to your waist, over your back all the way to your shoulder blades.

Nanami brought you even closer, and kept kneading his hands against you, almost as if he was trying to touch your entirety all at once.

His fingertips ghosted softly around your scar accidentally again, and your breath hitched for a second. You pulled your mouth from his, just long enough to say, "lay me down."

Nanami understood it, and acquiesced. Swiftly, he supported you from your shoulders and hips, laying you down like a porcelain treasure, and caged you in with one hand to each side of your head.

You both took a few moments to admire each other.

Nanami was a tall and broad man, but from underneath, he seemed even more mountainous. His angular face, his wide shoulders and muscular arms, everything about him was just grand.

In a second, though, interrupting your gazing, his hand pulled a pillow from the top of the bed, and he gently lifted your head to put it underneath.

That was it.

In the end, you knew that his kindness, just as grand as he was, was what stole your heart.

Nanami slowly descended over you, and supported himself with his forearm to the side of your head, using his free hand to part the slightly sweaty hair on your forehead and press a fleeting, soft kiss in between your brows. Your heart skipped a beat, and his mouth came down pecking at your face in the most delicate fashion, until it rested on one of your cheeks.

You guided your hand down and positioned his tip towards your entrance, noticing Nanami shuddering with the sensation of your fingers clasping around him. His hand got down to the side of your hip, and Nanami let out a soft huff as he began to slowly push his length inside. He could feel himself gliding along your slick folds, and scrunched his eyes shut as the tip got past the resistance of your ring, eyelashes brushing over your skin with a feathery lingerance.

To say he was savoring this down to the last infinitesimal tactile sensation would be a gross understatement.

You dragged the tips of your fingers down the muscles of his abdomen, seeing how he deliciously flexed himself inside you, as you savored this in your own way too.

Sinking inch by inch, you could feel all the muscle stretches while his girth accommodated inside your walls, widening and filling you as he slipped in further. Your mouth opened in a muted moan, and with a hazy mind, you turned your face towards his, having the tip of his nose brushing over until your noses bumped against each other.

You captured his lips haphazardly, and Nanami stroked his tongue over your mouth, groaning the moment he bottomed out inside you.

You felt him almost kissing your cervix with the tip of his cock, and your mind was sent spiraling with the shivers that shot up from your lower abdomen to your entire body. It got you fluttering around his shaft, and Nanami's grip on your hip suddenly tightened, as a strained groan fell from his lips.​

It took you a second to realize exactly what was going on.

"I-I… need… a second,” he mustered up to say in a cracked, coarse voice. His length was throbbing strongly inside you, and his expression looked almost pained. You noticed his fist beside your head was strongly clenched around the bedsheet.

Nanami wasn't lying when he said he was very wound up.

You planted a small, loving peck over his cheek and drew your hands to the back of his head, gently brushing your thumbs against his hair until you felt Nanami’s body relaxing, and his pulse inside you evening out to something calmer. He eventually let go of the bedsheet and drew his hand closer, tangling his fingers in your hair.

In an easy, gradual pace, Nanami began dragging his length out from you, and did so completely, pushing back inside the same way, robbing you of a gasp the moment he bottomed out again. His hips began in a steady, calm rhythm, and from your mouth, came out what he could only say were the best sounds he had ever heard.

“Fuck-- y-you feel… so good…” you purred for him, sending pleasured shivers all over his body. You were both completely covered in sweat right now, and your bodies slapped against each other, sounds only covered by your begging whimpers.

However, as good as it was, you needed more. Greedily, you felt the increasing need of being completely taken apart, and this slow love making was not doing it for you.

“Harder…” you pleaded, and Nanami picked up the pace as soon as he heard you, thrusts becoming more intense. It was better, no doubt about it, but you still wanted more.

Your hungry desire had become something indescribable, and all you could do was mumble softly in between mewls, pleading him to go even harder.

Nanami was also feeling himself grow more and more intent on satisfying your pleas, and realized this might not be the best position to do so. 

He stopped for a second, and you muttered in complaint.

However, your disquiet was short-lived, as he propped himself up, manhandling your hips to accompany him and pulled one of your legs straight, letting your ankle rest on his shoulder, supporting your leg with his arm's length and hand cupping your ass. Your other leg kept hooked around him, and this shift sent his cock even deeper.

“Harder?” Nanami asked, almost as a dare, with his disheveled hair falling over his forehead, a few golden strands tangling with sweat. There was something remotely playful in his eyes, and it sent your heart pounding inside your chest to see him in a way you had never seen before.

Oh, how you coveted to freeze this moment in time.

In answer to his question, you nodded, half-lidded eyes and an anticipation smile, only to be surprised with a thumb making its way to your bottom lip, softly asking its way in.

You obliged, and put your lips around it, sucking on his thumb, basking in the view of this boulder of a man completely shuddering to the sight and sensation of that.

Nanami pulled his hand back, resting his digit over your clit.

“Hold on to something, darling” he warned, having a cheeky smile pulling on his face. 

In sweet anticipation, you pressed your hands against the wall on which the bed rested, and locked eyes with Nanami, just to see him admiring you for a moment before he made a complete mess out of you.

In a sharp motion, he thrust his cock into you so intensely his tip bumped fully against your cervix, trembling the bed on its foundations. Your head launched on the pillow, your mouth falling open to let out the loudest moan — if that sound even be called a moan — you had ever uttered in your entire life.

Not sparing you a moment to recover, he retreated and plunged again and again inside your cunt, sending wet plap sounds bouncing over the walls. Nanami began rutting into you, kissing you deeper and deeper with every thrust, and you were nearly yelling from the pleasurable pain with which he had you finally crumbling down.

“Fuck,” he let out, “is this-- hah- hard enough--?” Nanami asked half in jest, knowing full well he didn’t need an answer. The way your back began arching so deliciously as you yelled and mumbled incoherently was enough of a response.

Every time he’d thrust, your body would tense up, and your walls would suck him in. It was sending his mind into a wild spiral.

Nanami was mesmerized by your face, and had the faintest feeling that he might cum from it alone. You looked and sounded like you were having the most delicious, toe-curling, gut-wrenching, blissful-stupor inducing sex of your life.

And well, up until at that moment, you actually were.

Dear God, he could die right now, and he’d die the happiest man alive.

You were having shock waves of stupor-filled pleasure shooting through your body, and Nanami began circling his thumb over your throbbing, sensitive clit. Oh boy, did he have you seeing the entire Milky Way in a split second behind your eyelids. Your mind distantly registered the noise of dragging wood and your fingers starting to struggle reaching support behind your head.

Is the bed pushing away from the wall? Are we literally rocking the bed? Holy shit.

A heat you rarely felt began to burn like incandescent molten lava in your belly, and you looked at him wide eyed, holding out onto some kind of desperation.

Nanami barely registered that you were looking at him like that when he felt the warm spurts, getting his entire crotch completely greased. You squirted so intensely that for a second you felt like you actually fell unconscious, before coming back to the second wave — the continuum of earth-shattering, convulsing orgasms that always followed it.

He wasn’t ready to have you squirt all over his cock so fervently, letting out the most heavenly, luscious, indecent and pornographic sounds he had ever heard.

He could never be prepared for that.

The sheer scent alone sent shivers throughout his entire body. Your scent was completely smeared over him, slowly dripping down his thighs.

With your walls tightening around his cock, his own peak took him by surprise, as much as he had tried to hold it away. The most animalistic and ferocious groan came out of his mouth as thick strands of white cum filled up the condom. Nanami's entire body jerked, making it incredibly difficult to keep pumping himself into you without risking pulling out too much by mistake, so he just let the convulsing waves finish washing down his body before collapsing on the bed by your side.

You both took a moment to breathe, then two, then three, still panting like you had just run a marathon.

Hell, you were probably panting even harder than that.

"I'm… I’m s-sorry about… the mess," you apologized, huffing and puffing, face blushing as you rolled your eyes back, still recovering from the aftershock.

Nanami instantly turned your face to his, mouth agape and gaze locked onto your lips, as he, without uttering a word, thrust his tongue inside your mouth in an open-mouthed, wet, sloppy kiss. All while still panting heavily.

Pulling back, you smiled, asking, “nothing to apologize for?”

He huffed, smiling back at you, “nothing.” 

You both felt like you'd have the best night of sleep of your lives.

Nanami would not, however, as the thoughts he shoved away to the back of his mind earlier that night were about to take him into unwanted nightmares.

End notes:

I can’t reread this again. I just can’t. Hope I got all the typos out, lol. Old version of this fic is here. When I read it a few weeks ago, I came to the conclusion that I didn’t quite like it, so I decided to give it a go on rewriting it. Three rewrites later, here it is, hope you guys enjoyed it.

-

Tag list (for this fic + current AU tags):

@jadedjane @senseifupa @nikos-a-clown @fairy-corno @ldrcvlt

@magical-girl-b @montyrokz @hexrts-anatomy @g-kleran @otomesass

@redlikerozez @yammy-yammy-yama

[ooooo-mcyt]

Because Double Life has been so mythologized in fandom over the past few years and a lot of us don't fully remember all the details of what actually happened between Scott and Pearl, or didn't watch their povs and only know about what happened through incomplete/vague fandom osmosis, I spent all of today binge watching both Scott and Pearl's Double Life seasons and took notes on the full history of the relationship between Scott and Pearl in Double Life and all of their major interactions.

This is going to be a really really long post since I'm summarizing almost every relevant mention of or interaction between these two in either perspective for the entire series, so I'm leaving all of this under a cut:

I will be trying to keep my points in chronological order, though it's sometimes hard to sync up events between two povs, so forgive me if anything is slightly out of order.

EPISODE ONE:

For the early parts of both of their episodes, neither Scott nor Pearl really engage with the idea of their soulmates much at all. they both express wanting to stay safe for their soulmate's sake and apologize when they take damage, but generally don't seem to have soulmates on the mind all that much, both doing their own thing. Pearl largely continues this for her entire episode up until actually finding Scott at the end, so my episode one notes are mostly Scott notes with occasional supplemental notes to add context from Pearl's pov for what's going on with her at any given time.

Scott's episode, Pearl takes 2.5 hearts of damage, which seems to freak Scott out a bit. "Oh god, we just took three hearts of damage, please stop that! I don't know what you're doing, but undo it". This is seemingly the first time Pearl takes significant damage, and Scott doesn't seem to feel especially comfortable with it.

Scott meets up with Cleo for the first time, they almost immediately piece together that Martyn and Pearl have to be their soulmates because every other pairing had already found each other.

Pearl and Martyn get the achievement for going into the deep dark in chat. Scott expresses concern over their soulmates recklessness, and Cleo suggests "We should form an alliance against them". They don't immediately commit to the idea and partially treat it as a joke. (supplemental note: that pearl and martyn didn't actually go into the deep dark, and that pearl specifically refuses because she doesn't want to get her soulmate killed, though obviously scott and cleo had no way of knowing this)

After leaving a conversation with Jimmy and Tango, Scott says; "Honestly, Cleo, do we need soulmates? What if we just become soulmates? We just go against the grain? Everyone else is with their soulmates and we're just like 'no, this is us'?" which is approached much less jokingly.

Scott and Cleo start planning to build homes together around a ravine, making plans as a duo and largely not thinking about their soulmates or incorporating them into the plans.

Pearl takes very minimal damage. Scott voices this, "Oww, whoever my soulmate is just took damage", to which Cleo responds "Of course they did" with a note of bitterness that Scott doesn't seem to disagree with. Shortly after Martyn takes damage too, which concerns Scott briefly before he remembers their soulmate. None of this is major, but it establishes a precedent that, at this point, their soulmates are solidly established a mostly faceless source of anxiety and frustration in their minds.

Scott turns to the camera and says; "Guys, sometimes you need to take life into your own hands, whether that's through work, or friends, or love, and you find your own soulmates, and you make them friends, and you live in really cute houses across from each other"

Cleo rushes to Scott and yells that Martyn and Pearl have gone into the nether. Scott replies "It's only a matter of time before one of us explodes", and Cleo adds an outraged "How dare they?!". Scott and Cleo perceive this as incredibly reckless and it seems to further their view of their soulmates as a source of anxiety and frustration rather than teammates, as well as the idea that their soulmates don't care about them enough to stay out of danger.

Martyn and Pearl are taking fire damage. Scott yells "Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god", immediately running to Cleo and throwing them food. "What the heck?!" Cleo laughs with immense anxiety, to which Scott, with mild frustration, notes "They've gone into a fortress for some reason", and Cleo replies with another mildly bitter "Of course they have". (supplemental note: entering the fortress was Martyn's idea, and Pearl repeatedly expressed immense doubts about it; "I don't like any part of this, this is why I didn't want to come in here", though she does still go along with going through the fortress in the end, even knowing- as she comments on- how much it was probably panicking her soulmate.)

Pearl starts taking fire damage, taking half of their health, and then takes another heart or two of damage a few moments later. This upsets Scott: "Ow, ow, ow, ow- whoevers taking fire damage please stop- ow, ow- stop it!"

Scott and Cleo talk to Jimmy, who is weirdly aggressive about them living together despite not being real soulmates. Cleo and Scott inform Jimmy that their soulmates are in the nether and that they don't know who is who yet, before Scott adds; "We have been on the surface the entire time, we have met every single other person, we have put ourselves out there, we made ourselves vulnerable, AND THEY DIDN'T SHOW UP!"

All four members of the Divorce Quartet finally meet up. Martyn tries to put on a game to find their soulmates, but they find out who their soulmates are very quickly. Then the Argument starts. Scott begins with, "This is what happens when you two don't come onto the surface or look for anyone, we meet every other person who's soulbound and we kinda put the dots together. So you know what? Me and Cleo are actually soulbound to ourselves, we've decided. We put ourselves out there all day, we were ready to meet people, we were vulnerable, and then you two were just off together in the nether doing your own thing. And you kept BURNING!". Pearl counters that Scott has taken damage too, but Scott points out that he hasn't taken nearly as much as Pearl, which she concedes, saying "I know". Pearl doesn't seem to want to fight, asking "What are we doing?", but Cleo and Martyn are getting Violent in their own argument and Cleo decides she and Scott are going to leave, which Scott agrees to. Pearl is upset, asking "Are we not going to gaslight gatekeep girlboss?" but Scott expresses feeling like Pearl abandoned him. Pearl blames Martyn, explaining that "I was just following Martyn", but Martyn announces that Pearl wasn't unreluctant and Cleo snaps that Pearl knew her soulmate was out there and chose to go with Martyn to the nether anyways. Scott and Cleo storm off.

After Scott leaves, Pearl seems devastated. "Everybody else is with their soulbounds and ours think we've abandoned them or something…I feel like my heart's kinda broken, I'm not gonna lie". And then Martyn, to add insult to injury, tells Pearl "I blame you for this" and leaves her too. "Well. Okay. That's..that's my season." Pearl says, sounding miserable, before closing her episode.

EPISODE TWO:

Pearl opens the episode by talking again about how upset she is about the previous episode. "My heart is broken, I got broken up with like two or three times last session, I don't remember, but you know what? I'm a little bit battered, I'm a little bit torn, and I'm a little bit sad."

Scott and Cleo decide to axe crit each other to scare their soulmates. The idea was that as long as their health is high they'll regen quickly enough that it won't do any real harm but that it will scare their soulmates, which Cleo and Scott see as equivalent to what Martyn and Pearl put them through in the previous episode. (obviously pearl has no idea this was done on purpose and from her perspective brushes it off as scott accidentally taking damage)

Pearl seems to have changed her mind about accepting any blame for taking damage in the previous episode, saying "I was good the whole time, we got pork chops, I was healing, I even apologized for taking damage! I don't feel so bad anymore! I think today I'm not going to be as careful!". While she doesn't outright say it, Pearl seems to be implying that she plans to take damage to punish Scott, which is confirmed for me as Pearl zooms in on herself and says in a purposefully 'creepy' tone "This is Pearl now. You've done this, Scott. This is what happens when you don't want to be on the side of me! You know I looked after you last season, you know I could do it this season, but you didn't trust in me! And now this is the state that we're in". So Scott and Pearl have both independently, at almost the exact same time, without being aware the other is also doing this, decided to hurt themselves on purpose to hurt the other.

Scar asks Pearl for a bucket, and she happily agrees to give it to him for free "If you help me mess with Scott". Shortly after, they use a bucket of powdered snow to "torture" their soulmates. Pearl "tortures" (as she describes it) Scott for a little bit over a minute before Scott, on his end, has the realization that this is intentional damage and throws himself out of a tree, taking a chunk of damage to scare Pearl so she'll stop hurting him. This successfully freaks Pearl out and she stops when Scott takes significant enough damage, since she doesn't want them to die, but she fully plans to do it again later on.

BigB tries to 'console' Scott by 'reassuring' him that there's "still hope" for Scott to be with his real soulmate, to which Scott snaps "I like Cleo. I don't need a soulmate, I pick my own destiny!"

Cleo axe crits Scott again to get back at Pearl for the powdered snow.

Scar comes by to offer Scott some powdered snow, so Scott stands in it, knowing Pearl did the same thing earlier. Once Pearl figures out what's going on, she decides to stand in powdered snow again as well, getting revenge for his revenge. When Scott sees Pearl in the treeline, he goes to talk to her. Pearl yells at Scott that her heart is broken because he abandoned her, to which Scott bitterly replies that "Now you know how it feels!", though Scott does stop, calm down, and give her his condolences when he finds out Pearl's dog died. They then proceed to have a pretty calm conversation for a minute until they start arguing over how much damage the other had been taking that episode, at which point they do both admit to hurting the other on purpose. Pearl threatens to stand in powdered snow again, and Scott challenges her to put it down, so they both stand in powdered snow together. They then start talking about the previous session. Scott reminds Pearl how much fire damage she took, but Pearl insists she had it handled and that Scott should have trusted her, to which Scott points out that he didn't even know which of Pearl and Martyn were his soulmate until the end of the episode, so he couldn't have known to just 'trust her'. Pearl snaps that Scott could have trusted her AFTER finding out they were soulmates, but Scott says that he and Cleo already bonded and formed a partnership, to which Pearl points out Scott can form bonds with more people, and Scott replies surprisingly positively, saying it'll take time instead of shutting that down outright.

Scott accidentally misspeaks when referring to his and Cleo's base, accidentally calling it his and Pearl's base instead, to which Pearl decides to move in since Scott 'said' it was hers. Pearl runs across the clearing to Scott's base while Scott objects. Scott tells Cleo that Pearl's forcibly trying to move in, and Cleo threatens Pearl. Pearl replies that "Scott said it's our base, so he's already kicked you out" and refuses to listen when Scott insists he obviously meant it's his base with Cleo. Scott calls Pearl a crazy ex and Pearl snaps that she never wanted to be Scott's soulmate, to which Scott asks why she's making a big deal of it, and Pearl responds that it's fun to bother him. Pearl then leaves and dejectedly comments on how they don't want her. Ren says he has something for Pearl, but Pearl mistakes the message as being from Scott, so she heads back to Scott's base. Scott calls her obsessive and points her in the direction of Ren's base instead, then proceeding to go vent to Joel, Scar, and Martyn about everything that had happened with Pearl in the episode.

Pearl stands in powdered snow again while explaining to Ren that she likes to hurt Scott sometimes. Pearl also tells Ren she'd happily kill Scott if Ren wants her to if Ren gives her a dog first.

After getting Tilly back and recovering from her earlier grief, Pearl decides that she was overreacting and "got a little bit crazy", and that she needs to calm down. Pearl expresses having mixed feelings. First she says Scott deserved it, so she "doesn't feel bad", but then she quickly acknowledges that okay, yeah, she does feel bad, and that she feels like she might have been lashing out because of both exhaustion and the grief of losing Tilly.

Joel comes to Pearl and says he's heard she's been intimating Scott, to which Pearl immediately confirms that she has been intimidating Scott and stands in powdered snow to illustrate.

EPISODE THREE:

Pearl makes a side comment about how she "Maybe wants to see Scott die"

Scott and Cleo do their daily axe crits

While in the deep dark risking their lives, Pearl acknowledges that she doesn't want to kill Scott, though she amends that to "Well, I do, but I don't". Multiple times while in the deep dark, Pearl mentions how she's sure she's scaring Scott, and always makes a point of saying she isn't sorry, but then once she makes it out a live she implies she kept herself safe for Scott's sake to some degree; "You know I care enough, Scott!"

Scott and Cleo run into Pearl. They let Pearl know that Scar and Grian were framing her by claiming Pearl is the one with the sugarcane on the server and are very amicable, though Pearl does make a jab about how Cleo and Scott don't want to be her friends.

Scott is attacked by mobs at night and Pearl finds him. She immediately makes a jab about how he's taking too much damage and asks if he doesn't value their lives. Scott does acknowledge that he should have waited until day, and Pearl helps protect him from the mobs. Scott comments that Pearl has one up on Martyn as far as being a good soulmate goes because Martyn pushed Cleo off a cliff, and Pearl laughs that at least she's trying to protect her soulmate. Pearl jokingly threatens to kill Cleo, Scott tells her she has issues, and Pearl points out that, of course she has issues, everyone's abandoned her. Scott pauses the conversation specifically to tell Pearl that her tower is so pretty, which surprises Pearl, but Scott jokes that he can be nice when she's not unhinged. Pearl replies that it doesn't matter if she's not unhinged, she tried being nice to Ren and BigB and they still cast her out. Overall the interaction was largely amicable despite the occasional jabs.

Pearl decides she's going to live on the bridge between Scott and Cleo's bases. They come and object to Pearl building on their bridge, but Pearl just tauntingly asks if she's "getting between them". Scott takes the disc from Pearl's jukebox and Pearl attacks Scott, hitting him multiple times with her axe and saying she doesn't care if they die, at which point Cleo steps in and threatens Tilly. Pearl pushes Scott off the bridge and then she's pushed off after him. Cleo burns Pearl's bridge house while Pearl's away so Pearl gives up on building there.

EPISODE FOUR:

Cleo lets Scott know that they gave Pearl permission to move in and live on their bridge, which Scott seems happy enough to agree with, suggesting Pearl could maybe build something hanging under the bridge. They also don't do the axe crit this episode.

When Scar makes a comment about his soulmate baking bread for someone else, Pearl sympathizes, saying her soulmate is doing the same thing.

Pearl signs up for Grian's powdered snow game and, when the prize pool turned out to be awful, Pearl comments that "The real reward here is torturing Scott, I'm happy with that". While competing against Cleo to see who can stay in the powdered snow the longest, Pearl announces "Come on Scott, I believe in you!" before backtracking and saying she doesn't actually believe in him (pearl does this often where she will instinctively speak positively of scott- worrying about their shared health for his sake, expressing regret for hurting him, saying she believes in him- and then backtrack). Meanwhile Scott and Martyn are back at Scott's base and, when they both start taking damage, immediately decide to also stand in powdered snow together because they think Pearl and Cleo are doing it to hurt them and want to hurt them back. So the entire divorce quartet were just standing in powdered snow at the same time.

Pearl walks right up to Scott, towers up a bunch, and jumps off the ledge, bringing them down to half a heart. Scott tried to put down water but was too slow. Pearl then encouraged Grian to hook her with his fishing rod and pull her up the tower with it, causing Scott to panic, repeatedly yelling "I hate it here I hate it here I hate it here" and telling Grian not to do it. The first time Grian pulls Pearl up, she loses four hearts. Scott yells at Grian to stop again and threatens to shoot him, but eventually gives up and says he's accepted his fate and won't watch anymore, to which Pearl gleefully replies "You're gonna die, Scott!". They hook people in a chain, and this time Pearl loses seven hearts on the fall. Pearl incorrectly tells the others she only lost five hearts, and while Scott loudly corrects her, the others don't seem to pay that much mind and Etho joins the chain. Pearl goes down to three and a half hearts and Joel and Etho both die, at which point Pearl steals Joel and Etho's stuff and refuses to give them back. She tries to give it back last minute, but Joel and Etho kill her, leading to Pearl and Scott's first death.

Immediately after they both die and Scott goes back to his home, Pearl stands in some powdered snow, and then has Bdubs hit her with an axe repeatedly, two normal hits and one crit. Scott is very upset by this and comments that when he gets to red he'll just off himself.

EPISODE FIVE:

Scott and Cleo do their axe crits.

Upon finding out a red alliance is forming, Scott and Cleo dejectedly decide they have to team up with Martyn and Pearl. Scott, Cleo, and Martyn head to Pearl's tower, and as soon as they get to the top, Scott compliments Pearl on how pretty it is, and then they suggest a team up to deal with the newly formed red army. Pearl is standoffish initially, instinctively reading insults into Martyn's words and questioning how she can trust them, especially Martyn (who she saw sneaking around her base earlier). Martyn and Pearl start to argue about her base setup, but Scott cuts in to praise how Pearl's base is the most defensible location on the server which seems to ease tensions. The four fall into an amicable enough teamup and start planning together. They largely work seamlessly together, though there is the occasional jab from Pearl specifically, who makes a point of putting audible air quotes around calling the others her 'friends' and telling Ren "You can shoot the other guys, I don't mind". But other than the occasional jab, there are a lot of fun team shenanigans and they're very functional.

Pearl splits up from the group to go back to her tower, and as soon as she gets home, Scar and Grian (currently the most wanted people on the server) invite themselves in and seek protection from her. Scar offers Pearl a cactus and she stands on it, taking damage and freaking Scott off, who is briefly afraid they'll die until Pearl stops. Scott makes his way back to the tower and is immediately upset; "Are you harboring refugees, Pearl?! We can't have them here! You're putting a target on our back!". Grian keeps standing in the windows even with the reds nearby and Scott gets incredibly anxious about it, yelling at Grian to stay away from the windows, and scolding Pearl to put her armor on, seeming very on edge. The two bicker a bit, especially when Scott finds out the reason they took so much damage is because she was purposefully standing on cactus. They get back to being a relatively functional team once Grian and Scar leave, though.

Scott and Pearl breed their dogs together and it's a very amicable interaction once again. Pearl coos over the puppy and then they make some plans together without arguing. Pearl considers pushing Scott off the tower (harmlessly) as a joke but doesn't as Scott heads out again.

Scott and Pearl both attend the 'funeral' for Jimmy and Tango and while they don't have many direct interactions, they do have a very friendly group interaction, laughing together with the rest of the group without any real tension or jabs. Scott also once again comments on how good Pearl's base is, pointing out that she's the only one on the server who didn't make a flammable base.

When Cleo asks if they should care about the Relation Ship burning down, Pearl replies "Of course not, that's not in our alliance". Scott and Cleo both take note of this, and Scott asks "What is our alliance?" with Cleo almost simultaneously asking "we're an alliance now?". Pearl immediately responds defensively, interpreting their reactions as rejection. She immediately replies that they're not an alliance and adds "Okay I guess I don't have any friends then! Bye!" and walking away. Scott and Cleo follow her and say they do have an alliance but they just also thought Pearl had other alliances, at which point she insists she does have other alliances and decides to leave Scott and Cleo as they go to deal with their burning bases.

Scott and Cleo come by Pearl's tower again later shortly and immediately help her fix up the damage done by a trap that had detonated inside, and they have another mostly friendly casual conversation catching each other up on what happened while they were split up before the episode ends.

EPISODE SIX:

In the intro of Pearl's episode, she seems surprised but not necessarily unhappy with her current alliance; "Last episode we left off in this tower right here in an alliance with Martyn, Cleo, and Scott- hm. Yes, that happened."

Scott and Pearl have a cute little interaction where Scott bursts into the tower and cheerfully yells "Boo!" to which Pearl exaggeratedly replies "So scary! Oh my gosh!" to humor him and they both giggle. Scott also briefly coos over how cute Tilly and her babies are, which Pearl is more than happy to join in with. Cleo asks whose gonna die first and Pearl immediately replies "I'm gonna die first, sorry, Scott, no Cleo death" and Scott made a comment about how that would be two of their lives Pearl loses. Pearl responds with an indignant "Hey!" and points out that Scott could die first, but Scott replies that he's not the one who aggravates people, and Pearl grumbles "Yeah, whatever". Despite the brief jabs, Pearl doesn't seem too offended, and they're all getting along rather well and they make a plan to snoop into the red army's business.

During the red life meeting, Pearl tells the red names that they can kill Scott and she'll be fine with it as long as they don't do it through her, though Pearl isn't forthcoming at all when pressed for information about where Scott actually is and doesn't agree to lead him into a trap when asked.

Once the group meets back up they're very friendly again. They all laugh together as they recount what happened while they were split up, and then the red names attack. Joel yells at Scott for burning the ship, but Pearl actually jumps in to shoot back with "Rightfully so from the sound of it! Well deserved! Go Scott!". Scott and Pearl run toward the box and giggle about how it looks, and then Scott stops and calls for Pearl when she lags behind. Scott is surprisingly focused on where Pearl is and whether she's in active danger, making sure she has resources and knows the plan and pouring water for her to climb, waiting for her to get up before moving on.

Pearl asks Scott if he has a secret base, and he tells her yes honestly without hesitation. They agree to go to the bunker recoup for the time being. Pearl accidentally pushes Scott down the ladder but instead of it causing an argument Scott just laughs and tells Pearl about how he caught himself on the ladder. Scott feeds Pearl's dogs to heal them once they're settled in the bunker, and Pearl is thrilled.

There's a surprising lack of arguments. They come up with a plan easily and don't bicker about it. At one point Pearl accidentally loudly blows a goat horn while they're trying to be sneaky and instead of anyone scolding her or being bitter about it Scott just urgently tells her to come over to where the rest of them were. Pearl sets off a shrieker while they're in the deep dark and while Scott snaps "Pearl!" it sounds playful and they both laugh before going back to work.

Scott and Pearl separate from the others and end up having a Talk. Pearl opens with "You know what Scott? It might have been hard to forgive you at the start of the season for just abandoning me like that, but you know what? You're a pretty good partner, you know?" to which Scott replies, "…Thank you…I mean, we tested it last time and it worked well, it was just, you hurt my feelings when you went away with Martyn and then me and Cleo looked for you for ages and then we couldn't find you and I was sad", and Pearl counters with "How about the reverse? You ran off with Cleo from my perspective, we both just paired up with whoever was nearby." and Scott replies that "Well we ran into everyone else, we were actually looking for our soulmates." at which point they run back into Cleo and Martyn and the conversation dies before they can really sort through things (also there's something to be said for the conversation starting with accusatory language that's not conducive to a productive talk, but i digress). They at least managed to talk about it calmly without blowing up.

Martyn and Scott are being silly and Pearl and Cleo are giggling. Pearl playfully bemoans "This is who we're teamed with". Notable both for the mundanely positive interaction and for the casual confident acknowledgement of them as a team.

Pearl wants to go check her tower to see what's left in it after the red names attack, and Scott actually volunteers to go with her, asking if Cleo's willing to stay with Martyn while he and Pearl check the tower. Scott and Pearl have another very successful adventure together where they don't argue at all or even make any bitter jabs, just working together well and laughing together as they mess with the red names. While chasing them Joel asks if they've made up and they both very unconvincingly reply "Noo" in a tone that is very much an implied yes. Eventually they get split up and Scott is killed. Pearl gladly declares that they're even now, and Scott doesn't complain.

Scott and Pearl head back to the bunker, at which point..Pearl points out that the other red names don't seem to like Scott much. "They weren't going after me that entire time, I just feel like..maybe I should take the bigger stance here, y'know? I mean you're a great partner and all, but.." at which point Scott realizes and immediately, deeply upset, asks "Are you gonna ditch me after this?!" and Pearl, well.."Scott, come on, look how big that group is! It's just..look, don't make me feel bad, okay? It's my time to ditch you after the first episode, think of it as karma!" which launches another argument about the first episode, about how from Scott's perspective, Pearl was the one who abandoned him first by not being there for the first episode, so from his perspective, this is all full circle! Pearl points out that they did try to find their soulmate with the little minigame, but Scott shoots back that that was AFTER everyone else was already "loved and doved up" and HAD their soulmates! Pearl switches to arguing that Martyn would have died without her- and Cleo too for that matter!- so really Scott should be appreciative of her for saving Cleo. Scott just completely stops and dully replies "Right." before adding "Lets get out of here.", though Pearl immediately reminds him there's no "lets" about it. As they leave, Pearl switches to arguing that she's trying to keep them BOTH alive in a way by joining the bigger group and asks why Scott would go back to the yellows, to which Scott replies, sounding a bit pained, that he can't betray Cleo. Pearl tells Scott to just think of Pearl joining the bigger group as a "strategic advantage" and Scott is silent for a LONG moment before very quietly agreeing. Before they split up, Scott says "The moments we got to spend together were nice while they lasted", and Pearl returns the sentiment, and then they come up with "Tilly death do us part" as their goodbye for the scene.

After Pearl's alliance with the red group fell through, Pearl went back to Scott, Martyn, and Cleo and is accepted back immediately, the group going right back to planning together like nothing happened, and they hunt Impulse and Bdubs together without much more discussion.

And then the final scene in the season. Scott and Pearl are the final two left. "I honestly didn't have a lot of faith in us, but I had faith in me and Tilly." Pearl says. "Pearl, you deserve this more, Scott replies, and light a tnt under his feet. "Tilly death do us part," Scott says, and Pearl yells his name as they blow up. "Scott! Oh no- what- Scott?! Did he just sacrifice himself?! For me?!? We were the last ones left..Scott..I guess I forgive you after all".

[loreic]

The True Face: In-depth analysis

Okay now that I had a few hours to process all... that, I think I can analyze this objectively without crashing tf out 

Heavy, heavy analysis, speculation & theories ahead 

[Spoilers for the insane new Mizi comic obviously]

So the comic opens exactly where we left off after Weige right after Round 7 (the fact that Round 7, Weige, Arise and Walk, and now this happens in like the span of a few minutes is absolutely diabolical btw). Mizi is crashing tf out and just staring at Till’s blood literally on her hands, which immediately just shouts GUILT in all caps. 

We are then immediately jump scared by this.

Which is gonna give me nightmares for a whole week (thanks for that Vivinos), and sets the tone of this whole situation, giving us a glimpse at Mizi’s incredibly fragile mental state. Keep in mind that she had just had her life completely thrown upside down, witnessed Till get shot, then Hyuna two seconds later, all while still coming to terms with the fact Sua is gone. 

Girl is literally two seconds away from cracking. 

We then cut to a flashback set during their ANAKT Garden days. Considering how old they look and Sua later mentioning that they were running out of time and will have to take the stage soon, I’m suspecting this probably happened fairly recently, possibly within the year and not long before their graduation. 

The following sequence starts off tame enough, starting with this Luka-knockoff-looking ex-classmate cornering Mizi about her relationship with Till, which Mizi mistakenly assumed that he was asking about Sua. 

We come to find out Sua hasn’t been around much (god is anyone else kinda extremely creeped out by Neigh?), and that they have apparently been fighting. Which is rather interesting to me considering that mizisua has so far been portrayed like the perfect yuri couple doomed by the narrative (or at least slightly less convoluted and toxic when compared to ivantill and hyuluka anyway, ain’t nothing healthy in alnst). I do wonder what they were fighting about.

Then we get the whole heteronormality spiel from the Luka knockoff (which damn I could totally do a whole nother post on with how much lore that gave on life in general in the ANAKT Garden). Dude tries to confess, gets cut off, and things just immediately escalate from 1 to 10000. Like fking hell just look at this image: 

Luka knockoff goes on to accuse Mizi of being willingly oblivious to how half the boys have been crushing on her (keep in mind these kids raised by aliens with zero functional social cues or an accurate concept of how relationships are supposed to work), and Mizi absolutely loses it. 

I mean look at this face. 

Girl is Hyuna-grade levels of mentally unwell (I like how this seems to be a trend with vivinos, feeding us information about a character, lulling us into a false sense of security and then doing a complete 180 in their comics and giving them twenty different dimensions we never considered). She is literally having a mental breakdown and still trying to keep the friendly, innocent mask and smiling through it all, which just ends up coming off as slightly deranged.

Mizi ends up running to Sua (cue obvious unhealthy coping mechanism and codependency), and then she makes the mistake of using the exact same words Luka knockoff did 

It must be nice. 

Nice to remain willingly oblivious to it all, nice to be pretty enough to make others love you, nice to be loved by so many. That obviously wasn’t what Sua meant in her own context (it was also interesting to learn that Sua does envy Mizi to some degree, which I I think is a nice add that just makes her more human on a whole), and Mizi just reacts.

Considering how she immediately catches herself, I genuinely don’t think she meant it, but holy shit was that fked up. 

We’ve seen IvanTill fighting as kids and the whole thing with Luka and Hyunwoo that ended in tragedy but considering this and what the Luka knockoff did earlier, I’m getting the vibe that physical violence in the ANAKT Garden may be way more common than what we initially thought (or it could be that these poor kids have just never really properly grew out of that play-fighting-as-a-child phase, and it just escalated as they grew into young adults since corporal punishment from the aliens is normal and their humanity’s all kinds of screwed up) 

We then cut back to the present where we have apparition Sua accusing Mizi of being cunning, and ditching all of them. Now this took me a hot second to understand, because as far as we are concerned Sua was the one who left. She chose to die to save Mizi (and probably so that she didn’t have to deal with the pain of being the one left behind if we’re really going for that toxic angle). But then I realized I’m an idiot and that this was being written in Mizi’s pov and this version of Sua is literally a figment of her imagination and a personification of her guilt. 

Mizi still thinks she is responsible for Sua’s death. In that sense she did discard her for her own survival (unintentional or no) and on top of that she did leave the others. She did let herself be reduced by the rebels, she left Till and Ivan, all while knowing that they would most likely die. Is it her fault for being rescued? Hell no. But she definitely still feels guilty for leaving them. You could argue that she also, quite literally, ditched Hyuna in order to rush of to rescue Till, which indirectly ended up causing her death (It was Hyuna’s choice but Mizi sure as hell didn’t know that). 

We then cut to a flashback with Till (TILL IS ALIVE TRUST) and Mizi ends up confronting him, telling him that she loves Sua and asking if it is that hard to not like her. She asks him why he like her and Till (bro why) ends up responding with 

I mean, valid, but I think this properly confirms just how shallow Till’s love for Mizi is. He likes the idea of her, and though it doesn’t mean his feelings aren’t pure or true, it’s more of a crush really. Cute but almost entirely superficial, and just look how Mizi reacts: 

Her collar is RED. She knows people care and are attracted to her on a superficial level, that the Luka knockoff was right, but seems to decide to just ultimately let it be, to remain purposely oblivious. 

We cut back to the present and there we see apparition Sua has now become Mizi, the version of her from Round 1, the version of her that ‘killed’ Sua, which really just solidifies the fact that all that blue dialog is literally just her guilt taking.

This entire comic is basically centered around Mizi battling her survivor’s guilt, but honestly, as much as I hate to admit I think the Luka knockoff/evil Mizi were also right about her being purposely oblivious (to both her classmate’s affections and their situation on a whole). All the facts point to the fact that she was much more aware about everything than we were initially led to believe. I think she did have a vague inkling of what was going to happen, but ultimately decided to look away/remain in denial (I mean in hindsight how tf does one live 15-ish years in the Garden and not eventually find out the truth even by accident?). 

Evidence 1:  

First we have this with the Luka knockoff.

What a shame.

Shame she had to kill him? (lmao no, but am really frikin hoping she didn’t Hyunwoo him with how this guy pops up again with the back of his head broken in the subsequent art lol)

Not sure if I’m interpreting this one right, but I do think what she meant by it being a shame was the fact that he had to see her broken down this way. I do think this is the first time anyone actually noticed and called her out for her habit of remaining purposefully ignorant, hence the mental breakdown (also cause she got, you know, slapped in the face while she was at it). 

Also with how her collar light was green when talking about Sua but immediately turns red when Till is mentioned... yeah she's definitely not clueless about any of it.

Evidence 2: 

And then of course we have this whole sequence with Till. Hardly any explanation needed.

Basically both flashbacks imply that she is not nearly as ignorant and naive as she lets on (and what we as the audience were led to believe), but she puts on a harmless, innocent front. 

As for why she does it is pretty debatable, but I suspect that it was simply easier to remain blissfully ignorant, and it was just her way of coping with their less than ideal reality. I highly doubt she spent all that time taking advantage of being likable and playing dumb just so she could survive (again the one praising her for it is literally her guilt personified). Maybe a tiny part of her did subconsciously want to survive and decided to roll with it, but I think it’s pretty obvious she does genuinely care about the rest of her classmates and wasn’t actively trying to get them killed (unlike say Luka). 

What happened to Sua, Ivan, Till, and Hyuna definitely wasn’t her fault, but she isn’t entirely guiltless either. 

Honestly, I’m not too sure what to make of it, considering on one hand we have been led to believe that Mizi was this sole innocent girl who knew nothing about truth behind Alien Stage until Sua literally died in front of her, but on the other hand man do I love how we are getting more of layers to her character. 

[srbachchan]

DAY 6253

Jalsa, Mumbai Mar 30, 2025 Sun 11:43 pm

🪔 ,

March 31 .. birthday happiness to Ef Sai Poorna Patnaik .. Ef Keren Ben Ezra .. and Ef Shravan Kumar .. 🙏🏽❤️🚩

greetings and wishes from all the Ef ..

The consciousness of time , builds in the mind along with all the other concerns and schedules, damaging the thinking process of what we work on presently ..

And with the several options open to us, it does become even greater in the context ..

So what can be the cure ..

For me I have worked out that the moment the 'other' thought invades the mind while working on something .. just get up and fulfill the wants of the invasion .. and get back to doing what you have been doing .. at least it lessens the burden we carry of the schedule and the time factor that troubles the mind .. the saturated cerebrum reduces the factor of space .. and all seems to be in order ..

Been trying it for the last few days , with reasonable success ....

Reasonable , because never is the act of work fulfilling enough to move away and give space and time for the 'other' ..

The 'other' is a magnificent factor , often not given the importance it generates in human lives or any lives ..

A view ..

"The concept of the ‘Other’ operates both metaphorically and in reality as a defining factor in literary consciousness. It represents exclusion, difference, and opposition, shaping identities and narratives. In metaphorical terms, the ‘Other’ embodies the unknown, the marginalized, or the exotic, reinforcing binaries like self/other, familiar/foreign. In reality, literature reflects the power dynamics that create ‘Otherness’—colonialism, gender, race, and class—challenging or reinforcing societal structures. Writers like Edward Said and Simone de Beauvoir explore how the ‘Other’ is constructed, exposing ideological biases. Ultimately, the ‘Other’ remains central to literature’s interrogation of identity, belonging, and human understanding."

.. and there are several views such as the above on the subject of 'there' .. Simone de Beauvoir and other greats like existentialists Jean Paul Sartre .. did great work on these theories .. they must be read to be able to fully understand their inputs ..

Sartre .. a playwright as well .. and one of his plays 'Crime Passionnel ' I had the privilege to go to and educate myself ..

A crime whose base is passion is not a crime in certain laws in certain countries .. that was the essence .. but would meet with immense legal debate and challenges in today's time ...

What would not perhaps meet immense debate would be the GOJ

🤣

🥰

... and Ghibli .. invades the world ..

in the reality of the realm of communication ..

and the making of the 'reel' .. another now popular concept .. one which demands attention ..

.. may the days ahead be filled with prosperity and love and success ..

and my gratitude to all that wish me on this special day of festivities .. i cannot respond to each individually .. so this ..

🙏

Amitabh Bachchan

[soodoonimin]

First off, they were crazy for that cover 😂 but I think the conversation between Logan and Kurt is so interesting (especially within the context of the comic) but just in general of Logan’s character and how he tries to punish himself and how Kurt is probably one of his realest friends.

So Kurt is trying to comfort Logan after he killed a bunch of people (who rightly deserved it) and at some point Logan makes a bit of a snide comment saying that since Kurt is a priest he should be able to absolve Logan of his sins. Kurt reminds him that it doesn’t exactly work like that.

And it ultimately ends with Kurt trying to be a good friend by telling Logan two things:

1) that biblically speaking, murder is as natural (and as human) as death itself (he references the story of Cain and Able). This obviously doesn’t make Logan feel any better so he tries again and that’s what we see above. (Kurt is also going through his own struggles mind you so his reading on this is a bit skewed) 

2) “Is the Wolf evil when it culls the sickness from the herd?”

I think Kurt picked these words on purpose. Not because he believes Logan is an animal in any sense of the word (in fact I’d argue that he is one of the FEW X-Men who truly see him as a man) but I think he picked this analogy because he knew that it’s how Logan feels, he thought it would make him feel better without lying to him. Like in a way, he knew it was the only way Logan would fully be able to grasp what he was trying to say and maybe not accept it but understand what he was trying to tell him. Which is: “Yes you killed all those men and yes it was violent and bloody and not at all in line with the pacifistic ways we were taught with the X-Men but regardless of that it was something that was done and it wasn’t done for your personal gain.”

(He even says a line that Logan’s actions have always shown him to be an honorable man)

Because Logan isn’t just sad (SPOILER) that he couldn’t save the girl but he’s sad that he killed twenty seven men. And he’s sad and thoughtful about how he did it and how easy it was for him to do it and at the end of killing all those men he wasn’t even able to accomplish the one thing he sought out to do to begin with.

So when he tells Kurt at the end of this comic “I’m not an animal” Kurt agrees with him “I know, my friend. I know you aren’t.” I don’t think Logan is sad because Kurt is lying (bc he’d be able to tell immediately) I think he’s sad because he doesn’t believe him and that’s why he has to repeat it to himself. That’s why the last panel doesn’t have Kurt in the frame. Because even though Kurt told him exactly the truth (as he believes it) it wasn’t what Logan wanted to hear in that moment. In that moment he wanted someone there (like Scott, Warren, Jean or even Xavier) to confirm to him that is everything he hates about himself. He wanted someone to tell him he was a monster because although Logan *hates* the misery that comes with being the best there is at what he does, there’s a certain comfort that that misery brings and I right now I don’t think Logan is quiet ready to give up that miserable comfort.

[ninjatrashpanda]

Why I think Buck and Tommy will reconcile

So I just wrote this up as a response over on r/AO3 on Reddit, and I said "Fuck it, it's Tevanniversary today, let's spread it!"

So, below to cut is a little essay about my very positive stance on Buck and Tommy getting back together. I've seen a lot of doom and gloom around, and if you wants something positive, please, go ahead and read!

Warning though, I go into leaks and spoilers here!

8x11 is the reason I think they will get back together, mainly because of tropes, the question of "What would the point be?" and general BTS. Instant sorry for the essay 😬

So, point 1, Tropes and Writing Choices:

Let's start before 8x11, though. Buck and Tommy are broken up for four episodes before they hook up. Three of those episodes feature direct, hard Tommy mentions, all in the context of Buck yearning for him and starting to bake specifically to distract himself from thinking about him. The only one that doesn't is 8x09, but that episode still heavily digs into Buck's abandonment issues, which Tommy's departure amplified. Additionally, 8x10 has Buck straight up say that Tommy breaking up with him is when he feels his life started falling apart. 8x10 also has Buck give Eddie some cookies for on the way. He was baking again.

Now, onto 8x11. The episode starts with Buck being unable to properly unpack because, in his own words, if he does, it makes it real that Eddie and Chris are gone for good. Keep that in mind. Because of this, he shows up at Madney's house, with arms full of, you guessed it, baked goods.

Buck then tries to hang out with Ravi, who's annoyed af and throws Tommy at him. Tommy opens up and tells Buck that he was yearning just as much as he did. And that's when Buck shifts from awkward to initiating their hookup. The next day, Tommy makes it clear he wants to try again, and we already know Buck wants too, but before he can agree, Tommy puts his foot in his mouth by calling Eddie competition, and Buck puts his foot into his mouth by implying he doesn't have feelings for Tommy anymore, which we know is not true, but Tommy doesn't, because Buck has never actually said anything to that regard. So Tommy leaves.

When Buck goes to talk to Maddie about Tommy's insecurities, Buck gathers ingredients and utensils to bake. Again. During this conversation, he makes it clear that he wants to call Tommy. Not Eddie.

The episode then ends with Buck unpacking and making the house his. Which means that he made his peace with Eddie's departure. Something he still has not done with Tommy's. This episode has firmly put Buck and Tommy into Will They Won't They territory, and I don't know how familiar with sitcoms and rom-coms you are, but they usually Will.

Point 2: What would the Point be?

Tommy's role in 8x11 did not have to be filled by Tommy. It could've been any random guy (or gal, for that matter) Buck hooked up with to bring up Eddie and the Buddie situation. Going into leaks and spoilers for the rest of the season there is no need for Tommy to pilot the helicopter in the two-parter. In fact, there's no need for a helicopter in the two-parter at all. Tim could've just not written one in. Those things are expensive, he would've been better off choosing something else. Additionally, the funeral in presumably 8x16 for presumably Bobby features Tommy standing in line with the 118. Why? He doesn't work there anymore. Hasn't in almost ten years.

They also very distinctly tried to keep Lou's return a secret.

All of this to say: What is the point of bringing Tommy back for these things instead of just using extras, day players, etcetera, who would be once again, much cheaper? Why would they keep it a surprise instead of advertising it if it was only for a few one offs? To me, there's three potential answers, here in order of how likely I think they are:

BuckTommy reconciliation, either this season or next.

Tommy is built up to potentially get booted up to main next season. With Peter and Ryan potentially leaving/stepping down, and Gavin all but confirmed to, there's slots available, and Tommy has proven to be lucrative. No matter if it's love or hate, Tommy brings numbers.

Tommy is built up to potentially move to Nashville. Same reasoning as above, he's a character with a sizable number of fans and has proven to bring in numbers. While not as big as one of the mains, he could bring over some fans.

Point 3: General BTS/Leaks and Spoilers.

We know Tommy is in at least two more episodes (8x15 and whichever episode the funeral takes place in, presumably 8x16. He could also appear in 8x14, but that depends on how the plot goes.), potentially more. Again, none of these appearances are necessary in any way. Tommy's role in the two-parter could be given to a character of the week, his presence in the funeral when he doesn't work at the 118 is out of the ordinary anyway. All of this while Tommy and Buck's relationship is not at all resolved in either direction. The fact that he's here at all is sign enough that a reconciliation is at least on the table.

Also, and this one doesn't prove anything lol, but I thought it was interesting either way: In a recent interview, Tim Minear quite literally referred to Tommy as Buck's boyfriend. He also used 'ex' and 'bed buddy' in the same interview, so that he slipped into boyfriend is interesting. This one is absolutely tinfoil hat territory though, and I wouldn't read into it if it wasn't for everything else here lol.

So, uh, that's it. Keep in mind, the tropes used alone would have me convinced that they're getting back together, but the BTS and leaks are amplifying it. I currently stand 95-5 on whether it happens or not.

But also, even if they don't get back together, I won't care that much. I have fanfic. Tevan fandom thrived after the breakup, and we'll continue to thrive no matter what happens. I'm just observing the tropes I'm familiar with and drawing a conclusion based on it. And that conclusion is reconciliation.

[anneapocalypse]

What is "the occult" in FFXIV?

Ever since I first laid eyes on the EE3 bit about Urianger's parents I have been noodling on one thing in particular. Encyclopedia Eorzea volume 3 refers to "the occult" as Urianger's parents' field of study (and the reason they were so absent from his life). Every since that discovery, I have been curious what that actually means. What is "the occult" in a universe where magic is real, measurable, and a highly legitimate and prestigious field of study?

So, where else is "the occult" referenced in the game?

Thanks to this invaluable searchable transcript, I've found a few other references in MSQ.

The first use of the term "occult" in MSQ that I've found is way back in the Gridania starter quests when some Ixali "Occultists" are trying to summon Garuda at the Guardian Tree. In isolation I'd take this one with a grain of salt since it's very early in ARR, but I think it's consistent with other usages. The description for Whorleater Extreme also uses the term, referencing "the occult knowledge of the Ascians," so from the start there is an association of the occult with Ascian magicks and specifically with summoning.

The only other mention in MSQ comes from Alphinaud in Endwalker, where he and Krile are giving us the tour of Sharlayan, and specifically Phenomenon:

Alphinaud: As the center of what would later become the Studium, it was established to promote the study of aetherological phenomena, hence the name. Alphinaud: Though with aether being a fundamental aspect of nature, its scope expanded to include every conceivable facet of life and even the universe itself. Alphinaud: And then, in the four hundred and thirty-second year of the Sixth Astral Era, Phenomenon was decreed complete and the Studium officially opened as a place of learning. Alphinaud: With a long and storied history, it is without question the world's leading authority in aetherology, the arcane, the occult, astromancy, and countless other fields, standing proud as─ Alisaie and Krile: ...Sharlayan's foremost educational institute!

Okay, so "the occult" clearly falls within the general field of aetherological phenomena and magic, though that we could have guessed already. Something that catches my eye is how in more than one place, "occult" is contrasted with or referenced as distinct from "arcane." This is the case in Alphinaud's speech above, as well as in the Blue Mage quest "Everybody Was Fukumen Fighting," wherein Bluehood says, "No occult tricks or arcane incantations can contend with the all-surpassing might of blue wizardry!"

In the Loporrit Allied Society quests, we also get this odd little quest "Hare-Raising Thrills," in which we're asked to make "Occult Paraphernalia" for a Loporrit called Thrillingway. Depending on crafting job, dialogue with Keepingway will elaborate thus:

"It seems he requires a pair of shears─but not just any pair. No, he desires blades sharp enough to carve fur clean off!"

"He wants a sturdy coil of rope suitable for binding all four limbs of…a 'friend,' allegedly."

"Seems he wants a highly acidic gel for some dubious purpose I did not have the heart to inquire about. Honestly, I think it's best if we don't know."

Which. I mean. Okay. lol. Do what you will with that.

But probably most illuminating is the use of the word "occult" in a couple of Red Mage quests, and in the Sky Pirate raid quests.

In "The Weeping City," Cait Sith says, "Thus did the Mhachi magi construct an occult device that would more securely bind the voidsent to their will..."

And in the Red Mage quests "With Heart and Steel" and "Traced in Blood" we have, respectively:

"The tomes with passages pertaining to the voidsent Lilith are all forbidden occult works..."

and

"...the secrets behind Lambard's occult transformation."

In both contexts, "occult" seems to be connected to voidsent, specifically to Lilith in the case of the Red Mage quests.

And this ties back to the references in ARR as well, since from the beginning Ascians have been connected with the Void, even before we knew what the Void actually was. So it's safe to say at this point, I think, that "occult" can refer to magicks connected to the Void and to Ascians.

There's just one more reference I found that flummoxed me a bit, and that's this description of the Arcanist class, which refers to arcanist weapons as "occult grimoires." I found it odd initially because in most other contexts "occult" seems to refer to magicks seen as illicit, as opposed to the socially acceptable "arcane." But it does make a kind of sense, given that it is from Arcanist that we get Summoner. If summoning of primals is occult, then by extension so is summoning in the arcanist sense, even if it's not truly the same thing. This would seem to be the exception to "arcane" and "occult" being distinct categories, which leads me to believe that the distinction is more cultural than ontological.

So I think from the above, we can consider "occult" to be a fairly broad term that may be used in several distinct but overlapping senses:

Magic related to the summoning of primals.

Magic related to the Void, voidsent, and Ascians.

Magic which is taboo, forbidden, or otherwise outside of that which is socially accepted.

As a footnote, I think this is particularly interesting in the context of Urianger being introduced as our resident expert on primals, despite the fact that that's... really not specifically his field of study but merely adjacent to it. Urianger's primary interest is prophecy, and certainly plenty of prophecy seems to reference primals and Ascians and that's where we see him doing a lot of his research, but it's not the same field, merely overlapping.

Without more information we can't know for certain what his parents were actually studying. Maybe they were interested in primals, or Ascians, or the Void. Maybe they were studying Void-related magics. It's also possibly they were simply arcanists particularly interested in the summoner side and we shouldn't read much more than that into the reference to "the occult." Who knows.

But nonetheless, several of these interpretations would mean that in a way, Urianger has followed in their footsteps despite their making apparently little effort to guide him that way, which I find to be an interesting angle to his character and also profoundly sad in its own way--not that he found his own interests in those areas, but that the Augurelts had a child so naturally inclined toward their own interests and still took so little interest in him.

[shinesurge]

Webcomic rings run by people within the community are cool and you should support them

I've been loudly struggling a little bit with corporate webcomic Stuff lately so I want to mention something positive to balance it out: webrings run by small groups of creators earnestly trying to support each other are slowly making a comeback and I for one am delighted.

If you weren't around for them in the before times, webrings were just some folks who hang out a lot who feature each other on their websites. That's literally it lmao. There's generally no money involved and it only really functions the way it's supposed to if people have control over their own websites AND genuinely want to participate and get excited about other folks' work, which means the practice has pretty well fallen by the wayside over the years in webcomic culture given. Everything. In the rare event someone decides to do something like this it's usually in the form of a link list somewhere on their website; this doesn't usually indicate any sort of mutual support, it's just a list of what the creator is reading themselves.

A webring, though, is an official banner or hub that people gather under intentionally where each member is more or less on equal footing. It's essentially the concept of "a rising tide lifts all boats" put into practice, each creator brings their own audience to the table in a passive, opt-in sort of way that's different from working for a publisher since there isn't necessarily a Top Spot or a paycheck everyone's vying for, and individuals retain autonomy over both their own work and how (if) they promote each other. You're all at your own tables in an artist alley rather than fighting over the table in the front of the book store, essentially.

I have two rings and one collective for you today!

Webcomic Ring was brought to my attention AGES ago by Holly, one of the artists featured there, and I might have brought it up at some point but I'm doing it again lmao. This is exactly the kind of thing you ought to be looking for; a small group of enthusiastic folks having a good time making their weird little comics. You probably haven't heard of much in the catalog, that's PERFECT in the context of webcomics that's where the GOOD SHIT is. Finding something like this is A Gift go dig around in the longboxes for a while.

Then a few people have pointed me in the direction of the KNIFEBEETLE collective and that's neat too! Most of the comics there are already fairly well-known, but the vibes are excellent and I haven't seen a lot of talk about the collective /itself/ outside folks already in the know. I think it's important for this sort of thing to be more visible to folks who aren't terminally steeped in webcomic culture already so here I am telling you about it. You were probably reading several of these before I suggested it, but that's how a webring works! For it to do its job you should take those bigger creators' tacit recommendation of the less popular titles as a sign to go read something new and strange. Wild, I know these are practices held over from the old internet, but I think we should try and bring them back.

Lastly, I want to mention Spiderforest, which is a collective (slightly different from a webring) BUT still a very cool project readers starved for new stuff should pay attention to.

You've probably seen Spiderforest kicking around for a long time already; they're wonderful and have always been an overall positive force in the community in my experience. They really focus on building up a community, and especially welcoming newcomers and helping them get their feet under them. Full disclosure, I've been asked to apply by a few different folks over the years and the only reason I never did is I don't have the ability to participate in their forums and such as frequently as they want their creators to; it's a very good system (from my outside perspective) that might contribute to the community staying mostly healthy in ways that art communities usually don't and I appreciate it a lot!

ANYWAYS that's all I got for now, just trying to balance out some bad feelings I've been having by talking about some good stuff. Please go binge an archive this week.