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jeonqkooks · 1 year ago

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our beloved summer | jjk (07)

You made a vow to hate Jeon Jungkook ever since he packed up and left you without a single explanation, but when he shows up at your door after years of radio silence, it turns out that maybe your resolve isn’t as strong as you thought.

pairing: producer!jungkook x songwriter!reader genre/warnings: exes au, fluff, angst, eventual smut, swearing, mentions of oc's mother because we know girlie is hella traumatized, mentions of drinking, mentions of an almost physical fight, abandonment issues, jk forgets to practice safe driving for 2 seconds, and uhmmm kissing 🤫, anddd that cliffhanger? 👀 rating: 18+ (minors dni) word count: 10.8k note (1): this is the longest it has taken me to update obs and i do feel pretty guilty about that. but it's finally here now and this is one of the chapters that i'm the most nervous about posting. massive thanks to @daechwitatamic and @/wintaerbaer (edited 2024: crossed out but not removed bc even tho she plagiarized obs afterward, she did beta this for me so i guess i still gotta give her that lmfao) for beta-ing this for me or else i would've screamed cried thrown up and scrapped the whole thing, and to @jeonwiixard for being a wonderful cheerleader as i was writing this, and to everyone in my beloved obs discord server for always being so sweet and kind and putting a smile on my smile every day since the server was created. also to my sunshine ☀︎ for introducing me to the song mentioned below bc HELLO is it not just one of the most obs coded songs ever. love you all my babies <3

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as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

Somewhere in the multiverse There's a me and you that works We never fuck it up We're out there still in love Somewhere in the multiverse Maybe that's enough

multiverse - Maya Manuele ft. PEMRBOKE

Sometimes, whenever you look up at the moon at night, you wonder if Jungkook is doing the same thing.

Even when you fall out of love with someone, it still hurts. It hurts because you once loved them so much it felt like the sky would collapse if you couldn’t be with them. It hurts because the love wasn’t taken from you, but rather it started slipping away on its own, more and more each day until you realize you’re holding onto nothing when there once was everything.

You can’t say that you’re too familiar with that kind of hurt though. You’ve never fallen out of love before.

You don’t think Jungkook is too familiar with it either, at least not when he left you.

You wonder if he thinks about you from time to time and gets sad. You think he does, because you know that he loved you. Something ended for him too. The memories that you shared were his memories too.

You hope that it’s painful for him whenever thoughts of you cross his mind, because that would mean that he cares. That a part of him still cares.

And if he still cares, then he might come back.

Despite the front that you try to parade around, there is a part of you that will always leave your heart vacant for him, regardless of whether or not he would return. It’s a scary thought, one that you would rather avoid at all costs, one that says there will be no one that you love more than you loved Jungkook. Maybe there can’t be another person that you will love at all.

You can come back quietly, like the wind slipping through the crack I leave in the window at night; or you can announce your return resoundingly like a sudden downpour quenching the summer heat. I don’t care. I kept your side of the bed empty and warm, waiting for you to come back. Hoping that you would come home.

[08:47] Yoongi: sure you don’t want me to drive you there? [08:48] Yoongi: i can pick you up in 30 [08:52] You: positive 🤧 i told you i already booked the train. it’s only 4 hours away [08:53] You: i’ll survive, yoongs [08:55] Yoongi: did you not watch Train To Busan? [08:56] You: ? [08:57] Yoongi: what if there’s a zombie apocalypse [09:00] You: yoongi if there’s a zombie apocalypse, how is your CONVERTIBLE supposed to keep me safe [09:01] Yoongi: i’ll put the roof up [09:02] You: stop talking [09:02] You: please stop talking. [09:03] Yoongi: 😡😡😡 [09:03] You: 😇 [09:03] You: gotta get dressed now though. i’ll see u when i get back? :) [09:05] Yoongi: fine [09:06] Yoongi: safe travels. text me when you get there :)

You plop onto your bed with a sigh, glancing at the bag that’s already packed and sitting near your wardrobe, lonely. You stay like that for a while, contemplating whether or not you should bail at the very last minute.

It was not on your bingo card that you’d be here, agonizing over your ex-boyfriend’s brother’s wedding. Nope. Absolutely no one saw it coming.

For fuck’s sake, why would they invite you to a wedding? A celebration of love? It feels like you’re being forced onto a prank show, just waiting for someone to jump out and scream in your face.

You learned that the wedding was for close friends and family only, so it would be a relatively small event, which makes it even more confusing why you were also asked to join. Maybe the world is changing too rapidly and you’re just a little old-fashioned for it, but you really don’t understand why your ex-boyfriend’s family would want you there.

Taehyung and Jimin were invited too; they’re Jungkook’s best friends after all. They’re practically an extension of the family, Jungkook’s brothers by choice. But Taehyung doesn’t come back from his work trip until the day of the wedding, and Jimin… Well, he just doesn’t want to go to a Busan wedding in the middle of winter.

So why are you even going?

You could’ve declined. Said you couldn’t attend because the invitation came in so late. Made up a work trip or a family emergency. There’s a plethora of excuses you could’ve used.

Or you could’ve simply said no. That would’ve been perfectly fine too. No one would even need to ask why.

But maybe it was because his mother had customized the invite with her own handwriting in the back. You would’ve missed it if you hadn’t spent hours meticulously studying the card like someone was going to quiz you. It wasn’t anything special - just We hope to see you there - but you think you’d feel really bad to decline after she’d made the extra effort to ask you to come.

When you told Yoongi that you would be attending Jungkook’s brother’s wedding, he didn’t seem upset. Still cool as a cucumber. Although if he was bothered by the announcement, you don’t think he would’ve let it show. It did take him a minute to take it in, but then he just pecked your cheek and asked if you could bring a plus-one. You both knew that you wouldn’t even if that was an option.

Pushing your body off the bed, you drag yourself to the bathroom to splash some water on your face. Then sunscreen. Then change into the clothes you’d already picked out last night. Your train doesn’t leave for another hour and fifteen minutes, but you want to be there at least twenty minutes early just in case. This is one of your only good habits.

You rub your eyes when you finally haul yourself outside, thinking you must still be dreaming because what is Jungkook’s car doing here?

You blink a few times, expecting the vehicle to disappear in a puff of white smoke.

Spoiler alert: It doesn’t.

The car is in front of you, but the man is nowhere to be found.

You stand there dumbfoundedly, contemplating whether you should wait it out for a little bit to see if he’s actually here. He comes running up to you a couple minutes later, holding two paper cups in his hands, one of them a chai latte. A memory you’d buried long ago comes rushing to the surface. It’s too early for you to be feeling.

“Hi,” he says, his warm breath coming out in a huff of smoke in the crisp morning air.

“Hi?” you mutter dumbly when he trades the bag in your hand for the drink. There’s a moment where you’re genuinely baffled, wondering if this is a memory reel playing right before your eyes. This is your Jungkook, wearing that same old smile whenever he used to come bounding up your dorm building so you could walk to the library together, where he would hang out with you during your shift if he didn’t have classes. “What are you doing here?”

You don’t remember telling him what time your train was, so he’d probably badgered it out of Taehyung or Jimin somehow.

“I thought I could drive us there,” he says. “I texted you about it.”

Well, that explains it. You don’t bother with his dozens of messages anymore. “Oh, uhm, I already booked the train.”

This doesn’t seem to faze him at all. “Free cancellation up to 15 minutes before departure.” Jungkook grins, clearly eager despite your obvious reluctance. It’s too early for this, whatever the hell this is.

When you told him that you had RSVP’d yes to the invitation, he was surprised that you even knew about the wedding. He even seemed nervous that day.

“What if I’d already left?” you ask.

He blinks, then stammers like a confused child. It’s cute, and you have to mentally slap yourself over the head for even thinking that.

“Then I’d go after you.”

How? you scoff internally. Unrealistic.

Regardless, not even an hour ago, you were declining Yoongi’s offer to drive you there. Now, you’re standing here, in front of your ex-boyfriend, contemplating whether or not you should go with him.

“Let’s go,” he says after a minute. “We don’t wanna be stuck in traffic.”

“I haven’t said yes.” Yet. “It’s a 4-hour drive.”

You don’t have to clarify what you mean. He understands it.

You both just stare at each other for a moment, the tension suddenly thickening with every passing second. Four hours on the road. Four hours alone in a car with Jungkook. That’s about two hundred minutes more than you think you can handle.

It’s like he can see right through you. “Don’t think about it,” he says, voice dropping lower. “It’s just a weekend. Everything will still be here for you to think about when we get back.”

In your head, it translates to: All of our shit will still be here when we get back. You can keep being mad at me then.

You hope that’s not true. You hope that when you get back, the things that keep you up at night will simply cease to exist. That in the two days you’ll be gone, a genie will materialize and solve all your problems for you.

Either way, it’s probably for the best that you aren’t mean to him this weekend. You’re stuck with him for the next 48 hours or so; it’ll only stress you out even more if you channel all of your energy into tormenting him. Besides, you’re already the ex girlfriend who has no place alongside his family. You don’t want to be the dark cloud raining on everyone’s parade too.

Maybe you’d already made up your mind when you let him take the bag from you.

For the first half of the drive, you were unconscious.

It’s a useless superpower that you have, the ability to fall asleep anywhere - literally anywhere, including in the passenger seat of your ex-boyfriend’s car while he escorts you to his hometown. Melatonin gummies manufacturers hate you.

You could’ve slept the whole drive, but around the second hour mark, you were startled awake when your body jostled forward, straining against your seatbelt uncomfortably. There was an arm trying to hold you back, despite the seatbelt having done its job well.

“Fuck,” Jungkook curses before he turns toward you, worry written all over his face. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, are you okay?”

You blink, still half asleep. “I’m okay,” you say. The minivan that Jungkook almost rear-ended continues on its merry way, carrying what seems to be a family of five. “What happened?”

He sighs, his outstretched arm retreating back to his side. “I got a bit distracted, that’s all.”

You take in your surroundings then. There’s barely any other cars in sight, no tacky billboard that sticks out like a sore thumb to catch your attention. There’s just the freeway, stretching on empty for all you can see.

“By what?” you ask.

“Nothing,” he says. “Go back to sleep. I’ll wake you when we get there.”

See, you have the superpower of falling asleep anywhere and everywhere, but once you’ve been woken up, it’s not as easy to fall back asleep.

That, and the fact that you’re hungry as shit.

You open your mouth, about to say no, about to offer to drive the rest of the way if Jungkook is tired, but your stomach doesn’t let you get a word out. It growls, filling the space of the car, making you want to chuck yourself out the fucking window and run all the way back to the city. This wouldn’t have happened had you taken the train, because if you had, there would’ve been food services and no one would be subject to hearing your stomach sing like it’s chewing out a small puppy in there. Life is nothing but an endless pit of embarrassment and despair.

Your arms hold themselves tighter around your frame, practically squeezing into your abdomen as you will it to please, please, please be quiet. Jungkook stares at you, and you can tell by the teeny tiny quirk of his lips that he’s trying to bite back a smile. He’s relaxed, but there’s still something hesitant on his face. It takes him a minute before he finally throws the question out.

“Do you want to go to that guksu place that we used-” that we used to go to, “you know the place. The one that’s right off the freeway?”

The sun is out today. The sky unfolds endlessly just outside the window, coloring blue everything your eyes land on. There are strips of clouds scattered here and there, like delicate strokes of white paint on an azure canvas. Even the winter cold has to soften.You bite into your cheek. Don’t think, that’s what he had told you.

Not much about this quaint restaurant has changed. The quirky decorations are still where they used to be, the windows still the same unique stained glass that you never came across anywhere else. You remember the elderly woman who runs the place, even if she doesn’t have a single clue who you are. The golden retriever you used to fawn over every time you stopped by, sits quietly by the door and watches the cars pass by, his fur now graying as weariness begins to settle into those old bones.

You would’ve been displeased if the place had changed, because, well, you don’t like change. But then again, this familiarity is dangerous. It tricks you into thinking that everything is still the same, even you and him. Deludes you into believing that you’re still in love and that he’ll walk out of here holding your hand.

Regardless, the first spoonful has you biting back a smile.

“How is it?” Jungkook asks.

It makes you feel all warm inside, and then a little sad, nostalgic.

“Tastes just the same,” you tell him simply.

“Hmm.”

He lets you satisfy your hunger in peace. It’s the least he can do anyway.

There’s a wall near the back of the restaurant, where people could hang polaroids of themselves and cute handwritten notes. You think if you dig through the hundreds of photos scattered across the space, you might be able to find you and Jungkook there, if you two haven’t already been thrown out long ago to make room for new memories.

He pays for your food after you’re both finished, despite some protesting on your side. As you leave, you’re busy thinking that if you could have a moment to marvel at that far-back wall of memories, if you could find a photo of you and him there, you would probably sneak it into your coat pocket.

It’d be another thing to add to your pile of Jungkook memorabilia - the old clothes in the back of your closet, the stack of dusty polaroids at the bottom of your drawer. You wonder if he keeps anything of yours, maybe an old t-shirt that you forgot to take back. It’s probably unlikely, but a girl can hope.

You miss the way Jungkook glances back, thinking the exact same thing.

You survive the rest of the drive with more ease, probably because of the food. You spend most of the remaining 2 hours leaning against the window, humming to the radio, closing your eyes but not really sleeping. You even forget to be nervous about what is to come.

That is, until the car pulls up to the venue.

It’s absolutely gorgeous, and a lot bigger than you imagined - a modern beach house overlooking the waters. It’s not as extravagant as one would expect to see when they come to a wedding, but considering the small crowd in attendance, this is more than enough. You see people rush in and out of the place even from far away - planners, caterers, the bridesmaids and groomsmen, probably.

You feel a bit comforted just watching this. His family seems to be doing a lot better than before. It’s nice to know.

You barely make it out of the car before someone calls your name, and pulls you into a hug that knocks the wind out of you. Although, when you catch the scent of her hair, you instantly know who it is.

Parents usually have a scent that’s distinct to only their kids, a scent so cozy and homely that no perfume can ever mask. You can only describe your mom’s scent with a feeling, specifically the feeling of your chest tightening, tingling with a bittersweetness that you never found elsewhere.

Strangely enough, Jungkook’s mother has always made you feel the opposite. She makes you feel relieved to be in her embrace, like she accepts you for who you are even if all you are to her, at the end of the day, is a stranger.

You hug her back awkwardly, hesitantly, in front of Jungkook’s dad, his brother Junghyun, and a girl you don’t know. You assume that she’s the bride-to-be, the main character whom this weekend revolves around. Sooji, you remember that was the name on the wedding invitation.

You get choked up suddenly, eyes turning glassy though you quickly blink it away. You’re not sure if you’ve had someone be so happy to see you. Bypassers might even think that you just found the cure for cancer.

For a second there, you wonder if your mere presence has ever made your mother this overjoyed.

You look at Jungkook for help, silently asking him to rescue you. Who else are you supposed to turn to if not him?

He understands that look. “Okay, mom,” he says, entangling her arms from you with ease, “Y/N’s tired from the drive. Let’s let her rest, yeah? I’ll show her the room.”

She ignores her son. “Honey,” she says, brushing your hair away from your face so she could see you better. “Thank you for coming.” She used to insist that you call her “mom”, or at least by her first name because “Mrs. Jeon” was too formal for someone she considered family.

You now have to opt for the latter, because “mom” isn’t an option for you anymore.

“Thank you for inviting me, Mrs. Jeon,” you tell her with a smile. You’re not really sure what else to say, but it makes you a little sad just calling her that.

She opens her mouth before closing it again, seemingly about to jokingly scold you for the formality before she recognizes the bittersweet look in your eyes. She just smiles at you then. There’s not much to be done about it.

You don’t know if anyone else sees how the moment is weighed down. Probably not. Maybe it’s just you and her who share this sentiment.

Jungkook doesn’t wait for his mom anymore. Sons, typical. He wedges himself between the two of you like a bulldozer and leads you inside the house.

Even though all you have is an overnight bag, Jungkook carries it for you all the way up to your room, which is only down the hall from his. Then he disappears pretty quickly afterward, saying something about his best man duties and putting out fires. He seems apologetic as he tells you this, but it’s not like you’re expecting him to babysit you all weekend.

You bore yourself to death in your room for a while, before you remember you have to text Yoongi to let him know you got here safely. Though, you stop short of telling him that it was Jungkook who drove you here. It’s trivial enough, right? You don’t want Yoongi to feel bad over nothing. You do, however, inform Taehyung and Jimin when you text them about it, to which Jimin only responds with a preemptively disapproving ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.’

When you get too stir-crazy, you wander outside, hoping to explore the beach before it gets dark and colder. You try to stay out of everyone’s way, because a good guest is a quiet guest. You seem to be doing a good job. No one notices you, not even Jungkook’s mom but that’s because she’s the person you actively want to avoid the most. You don’t know what you’d even say to her if she gets you alone.

Everything is hectic, as one can probably imagine when it comes to wedding preparations. You haven’t had anyone close to you get married yet, so it’s safe to say that you’re pretty much clueless about all of this. You wonder what it’ll be like when your big day comes around, if you even ever get married. You haven’t thought about it in a long time. Why would you? You don’t really have a reason to think about this. It’s much easier to picture Taehyung’s or Jimin’s wedding day than your own.

Your opinion on having kids still remains the same, and you were never one of those girls who daydreamed about having a big and extravagant wedding, but it’s not such a bad idea to ponder about. You still think marriage is a scary thing - it’s one of the biggest commitments a person could ever make - but you’re not entirely opposed to getting married.

Why are you even mulling over this? Your time might never even come.

When you round the corner to get the steps that would lead you down to the beach, you run into Sooji and a woman holding a thick binder - must be a wedding planner. You give Jungkook’s future sister-in-law an awkward smile in greeting, which she returns much more gracefully before she tells the woman that she’ll be with her in a minute.

So now you’re stuck here, about to make small talk with a person you have never met before, and will likely never see again. Great.

“Hi,” you say, extending a hand. “I haven’t had the chance to introduce myself. I’m Y/N.”

“I’m Sooji,” she replies warmly as she shakes your hand, and you have to stop yourself from being a little weirdo and thinking about how silky her hair looks up close. “You’re Jungkook’s… friend, right?”

You purse your lips before nodding with a chuckle. The pause tells you that she knows, and you wouldn’t be surprised if she’s uncomfortable having you here.

“I’m sorry if this is weird. You probably don’t want a complete stranger at your wedding.”

Sooji shakes her head instantly, waving her hands around to dismiss your apology. “Please, it’s totally fine. Junghyun’s mom talked to me about it before we sent out the invites. I wouldn’t have agreed if I was really bothered. Don’t worry about it, seriously.”

“Why did you agree?” you ask, trying to sound as polite as possible. “You don’t know who I am.”

“I guess I was curious.” She shrugs, before laughing lightly as she says, “I used to think you weren’t real.”

“Huh?”

“She talks about you constantly. Never in front of Jungkook, of course. But she’s really fond of you, and you probably already know that doesn’t happen very often. She really does see you like a daughter. She made you sound too good to be true.”

You’re not sure how to respond to that. His mom still thinks about you, still talks about you after all this time. You’re just his ex-girlfriend, but she considers you her family. You don’t know what to do with this information nor the way it pinches your heart.

“I-” You purse your lips, fumbling with the responses in your head. You settle on a light laugh, because Sooji can probably tell that you’re struggling with the words too. “I have to be honest. I don’t know what to say to that.”

“You don’t have to say anything. I just thought you should know that you’re still very much loved here.” She gives you a kind smile, and it looks like she wants to tell you something else but decides against it in the end. Sooji’s eyes land somewhere behind you before she points in that general direction. “I have to go take care of an issue with the flowers, but look, Jungkook is here. Why don’t you ask him to show you around?”

And then she’s already off. Overall, what a… strange interaction.

You turn around to see Jungkook standing near one of the entrances to the house. As you watch him talk to someone - a bridesmaid, you assume, or just one of the other guests - you try not to think about the fact that there’s a stirring sensation in your stomach, and that it only intensifies when she throws her head back in a pretty laugh, a perfectly manicured hand landing on his arm like he’s the most charming person she’s ever met.

You don’t give it a name, don’t label it green in color even though you’re blue and he’s golden sunshine. You don’t acknowledge that it’s a feeling, because doing so would make it real and there are certain truths that you’d rather delude yourself into thinking are lies.

When Jungkook’s eyes catch yours and he cuts off the woman mid-sentence with a curt excuse me, you don’t acknowledge that feeling either, but it’s warm and it blooms in your chest as he makes his way to you. It’s something victorious, something that tickles your ribs.

He comes to you like you’re a destination he’s been waiting all his life to reach, and you certainly, adamantly don’t acknowledge the spectacularly dizzying feeling that swallows you whole when he places a gentle hand on your arm, his voice soft as he says, “There you are. I was looking for you.”

The familiarity, it’s catastrophic.

“I was just walking around,” you tell him. “There’s not a lot to do here. I was bored.”

“You have me,” he says. Probably not in that way, but you’d like to think that’s how he means it. “I don’t have any more fires to put out. What do you want to do now?”

You glance over your surroundings, still set on your original plans. You wanted to go alone, but you suppose you can let him accompany you. You check the time on your phone before asking, “Can we go down to the beach? I wanna see if we can catch the sunset.”

You used to do this whenever you came here to visit - walk along the beach, hand in hand, sunlight in your hair and the cool breeze holding you tight in the afterglow.

The keyword here is “used to”. Now, you have to stuff your hands in your pockets just so you don’t reach for him every time you shiver.

It’s late enough in the afternoon for you to see the moon faintly shine against a blue and orange backdrop. Sun and moon, together in the same frame. It feels symbolic somehow. You’re not really sure.

“The moon looks like an egg,” Jungkook observes astutely, taking casual strides next to you. It makes you burst into easy laughter, which makes him laugh with you too. You stop walking when you reach what you think is a good spot to watch the sky.

“Let’s sit here for a bit,” you say. It’s not the greatest idea - sitting idly by would only make you colder - but you just want to stop and look at the sunset. Once you’re seated in the sand, you respond to his moon remark, “That’s true, y’know. NASA said so.”

“Yeah,” he says, settling down beside you, “you made me read that.”

You’d forgotten about it, and you didn’t think that he’d remember. It’s freezing cold and the moon looks like an egg, but you’re not thinking, and you feel safe. Nothing can hurt you here, or at least that’s what you’d like to tell yourself.

You wrap your arms around yourself to keep from shivering, but you still shiver anyways.

“Are you cold?” he asks.

“A little,” you admit. “I should’ve worn a thicker sweater. But it’s o-”

He doesn’t let you finish the sentence, just smoothly takes off his jacket to put it around your shoulders.

You put your hands atop his to stop him. When you touch him, there’s an electric tingle that almost makes you flinch. He feels warm, still resembling a human furnace.

“No, you don’t have t-”

“Take the jacket, Y/N,” he says. “It’s just a jacket.”

The jacket smells like him. It only makes you want to crawl further into the warmth.

He seems more self-assured here, that’s what you notice. More like the version of himself that he used to be. Confident, sometimes borderline cocky. Annoying but oddly endearing, you came to love that about him.

His relaxed demeanor is understandable. You’re merely a visitor here, while this is his homeground.

“I’m curious about something,” he says after a while.

“Okay.”

“What’s the deal with Wednesdays?” he asks.

“You know how they say bad things come in threes?” You purse your lips, thinking it over, feeling something bitter in your mouth as you recall the events that led to this. “My parents got divorced on a Wednesday. I moved out of mom’s house on a Wednesday. And…” You hold your knees close to your chest as you hesitate to utter this last part, “we broke up on a Wednesday.”

You see the exact moment Jungkook mentally slaps himself, paling a couple shades as he tongues his cheek, not expecting his question to inadvertently lead back to this. It wasn’t your intention to guilt trip him. It was true that he dumped you on a Wednesday, but you don’t want the mood to turn sour, to have to mull over this again. Like he said, it will still be there for you to worry about when you get back. You’re not looking forward to returning to a shitshow, but what you’d hate even more is to tarnish the memories of this place just because you can’t keep from being vindictive for not even a weekend.

“I was born on a Wednesday too, so I guess bad things come in fours sometimes,” you continue, chuckling to yourself humorlessly.

A frown appears on his face almost instantaneously. “What is that supposed to mean?”

You shrug. Jungkook turns his body toward you, which makes you spare him a glance before you return your gaze to the horizon. His face is so serious that it’s almost funny. “Y/N,” he presses. “Why would you say that?”

“C’mon, it’s a joke. I was just being self-deprecating. Lighten up.”

“Why are you talking like that?”

“Like what? Contrary to popular belief, I don’t walk around with a thundercloud over my head all the time,” you laugh lightly. “I figured if there was a day to be nice to you, it should be today. And tomorrow, I guess.”

“This is you being nice?”

Funny how just a few weeks ago, you were fighting with him and calling him a hypocrite. Now, you’re sitting together, watching the sun set, trying not to be mean to him.

“I’m not picking a fight with you,” you say. “This is nice enough.”

“It’s not even my wedding.”

“Okay.” You glance at him again, letting words flow without a single thought. “I’ll be even nicer to you on your wedding day then.”

You don’t know where that even came from, but something aches the very second the words leave your mouth. The thought of him getting married one day makes you just nauseous, even though you always knew that it was a possibility. It might even be inevitable.

You clear your throat, waving the sullen feeling away. Your body shivers then, even after the added warmth of his jacket. Maybe you’re not shivering because of the cold anymore.

He doesn’t say anything, but you can feel his eyes linger on the side of your face. The both of you keep tiptoeing around an elephant that follows you wherever you go.

You hug your knees close to your chest, watching the blue sky melt into the golden horizon, splattered with ribbons of cotton candy clouds.

You want to scooch closer to him and have him wrap his arm around your shoulders. This isn’t the spot where you used to draw your names in the sand, enveloped in a giant heart like two lovesick kids, but wouldn’t it be nice to imagine that it is?

“I was always really happy here,” you mumble to yourself.

You were, truly. This city was your pocket of hope, your piece of peace.

Being here brings back so many memories.

It’s the same feeling you get every time you pass by somewhere you used to live. The nostalgia of walking down the same road you used to walk every day until your shoes wore out. The familiarity of your surroundings. The bittersweetness of looking into a past you cannot hold anymore, of remembering the person you were at a certain period in your life, of knowing the things you do now that you didn’t back then.

You long for things you cannot change.

Nostalgia only grows stronger with time, you can always count on that.

He hums in agreement, before admitting quietly, “I miss you.” One pulls, the other pushes. The water wavers, like it’s touched by his words, simple but earnest. You’re touched too, somewhere in your heart, where you know you should be writing someone else’s name now.

Should?

“You’re pushing it,” you say softly.

“I know.”

You look at him. Maybe it’s because you’re back in the city that holds only good memories of you two. Maybe you’re hypnotized by the way the pink and purple hues kiss his side profile, making him feel like a fever dream and not someone you loved. Maybe it’s the cold, making you yearn for any source of warmth. But instead of returning his sentiment, you say, “It’ll pass.”

He meets your eyes. There’s something pleading in his gaze. All things pass eventually. Time moves forward, people move on. Bad things will pass sooner or later. Your worst heartbreak, your most arduous trials, your saddest moments, they will all pass.

And good things… good things will have to pass too, whether you like it or not.

Your fingers twitch from where they’re still holding onto your body. You itch to reach for his hand. You don’t tell him what he wants to hear, even though here’s a part of you that wants to say it back. In a better world, you would be telling him I love you too, instead of having to suppress an I miss you too.

“All things have to pass eventually. This will too.”

[20:05] Taebear 🐻: we could go to that bar near the gallery. Y/N likes the cocktails there [20:06] Mimi 🐥: kay kay [20:06] Mimi 🐥: soooooo next friday? [20:09] Mimi 🐥: why is y/n reading our messages. shouldn’t she be at dinner [20:09] You: i approve of the bar choice [20:11] You: if you didn’t want me reading your messages, you shouldn’t have sent them to the gc [20:11] You: and if you must know, i’m skipping dinner. i’m avoiding Jungkook’s mom [20:12] Mimi 🐥: understandable. i figured you would do that [20:13] Mimi 🐥: how’s it going? are we regretting going yet? i told you to just stay home and we could binge watch the office together [20:15] You: and EYE told you that you could be a good friend and go to this wedding with me but nooooo baby doesn’t like the cold [20:16] You: you could’ve visited your parents while you’re here you know. two birds with one stone [20:18] Mimi 🐥: babes my parents stayed with me for a whole month last month. i reached my quota for family face time [20:19] You: son and friend of the year 👏 [20:20] Mimi 🐥: 😎😎😎😘

[20:22] Taebear 🐻: hey [20:23] You: uh oh. am i in trouble? why is this not in the gc? [20:25] Taebear 🐻: lol shut up [20:26] Taebear 🐻: you okay? [20:28] You: feels like that could’ve been a perfectly good question to ask in the gc [20:29] Taebear 🐻: because it’s a serious question and we both know Jimin can’t be serious for one minute to save his life [20:32] You: why does it have to be a serious question? 🤪 [20:32] Taebear 🐻: 😕 [20:33] You: stop pouting. i’m fine [20:35] Taebear 🐻: are you? [20:36] You: i am! you don’t have to go all mama bear on me [20:39] Taebear 🐻: ha ha ha. you’re so funny [20:40] Taebear 🐻: want me to call you? [20:42] You: i said i’m fiiiiiine 🙄 [20:43] You: but also no because i told everyone i was tired and i’m pretending to be asleep in my room right now [20:43] Taebear 🐻: okay [20:43] Taebear 🐻: did you eat something at least? [20:44] You: i have a cup ramen in my room [20:45] Taebear 🐻: okay [20:46] Taebear 🐻: how was today? did JK make you wanna strangle him? [20:48] You: okay Kim Taehyung at least act like you have some faith in your friend lol [20:50] You: but mmmmmm it was ok. he was mostly behaving himself [20:51] Taebear 🐻: mostly? [20:54] You: we were down at the beach and he just told me he missed me out of the blue [20:55] You: Mimi is asking why no one is replying to him [20:57] Taebear 🐻: i can see that [20:58] Taebear 🐻: what did you tell JK? [21:01] You: i quoted fleabag to him [21:09] Taebear 🐻: i had to google that [21:10] Taebear 🐻: i still don’t know what that means [21:11] You: i know you don’t lol. you’re adorable [21:11] You: i’ll tell you when i get back. [21:13] You: ok bye i have to sleep early or i’ll look like ass in the morning [21:14] Taebear 🐻: oh. okay [21:15] Taebear 🐻: sleep tight. remember not to gorge yourself on booze tomorrow [21:17] You: thanks for the reminder. love you mom 🙄💕 [21:17] Taebear 🐻: :) [21:20] Taebear 🐻: you won’t look like ass btw

You clocked out right after you told Taehyung that you would. It wasn’t a peaceful sleep though. The anxiety simmering in your belly woke you up a few times throughout the night. You don’t even know why you were anxious. It’s not like you were the one who was about to walk down the aisle.

When morning finally came and you managed to untangle yourself from the surprising comfort of your familiar bed, you practically dragged your feet for the subsequent two hours, trying to get ready. As if that would actually slow down the passage of time.

You had to compartmentalize the things you needed to do in a mental checklist. Makeup. Hair. Dress. Stare at yourself in the mirror for half an hour and internally freak out while waiting for Jungkook to come get you from your room.

Now you’re sitting in the wedding hall, watching people filter into the room. It’s not even a lot of people, but you’re still overwhelmed regardless.

You feel so exposed, even though he’s the only one looking at you in this room of strangers. He’s been looking at you like that ever since he first saw you this morning, in a dress that you got just days before the wedding. You still don’t know if it’s entirely appropriate for your ex-boyfriend’s brother’s wedding - maybe a bit revealing - but it was the only one you could find on such short notice.

When you tried on the dress for Taehyung and Jimin a few days ago, Taehyung said you looked beautiful. Jimin said you looked decent, “six point five out of ten,” which translated to “pretty nice” in Jimin-lingo. That would’ve been enough if you were going to any other wedding, not one where Jungkook would also be attending.

You had wanted him to see you and regret ever leaving you.

It was a silly thought, just a tad adolescent.

You had wanted him to see you in your dress and be consumed with thoughts of you until he couldn’t even see straight. To be the only thing on his mind, you didn’t think it was a lot to ask for.

That was before he told you not to think about it and you’d been convinced to just go with the flow just for two days. It was before he actually did see you earlier today in your dress - a simple midnight blue satin cowl neck with a slit in the thigh - but you were the one rendered helpless and speechless. He had stared at you for a minute when he came to walk you down from your room, then he’d said, all breathless even though both of you were just standing there, “You’re beautiful.”

You’re beautiful, not You look beautiful.

You don’t know why, but you appreciated it.

It made your cheeks burn underneath your artificial rosy blush. Stupid, you thought to yourself when you two made your way to the main hall. Stupid for letting yourself get dizzy because of a single compliment from him.

You’re seated with his parents, which makes sense because you don’t know anybody here except for them. Well, maybe you know one of his cousins whose kid you and Jungkook used to babysit whenever their family was in the city, but you doubt that he even remembers you anymore.

When the ceremony begins, your heart instantly feels like it’s about to drop to the pit of your stomach.

You can’t lie to yourself. It stings.

It stings just sitting here next to his parents like a daughter-in-law, like a member of their family, watching his brother solidify his happy ending.

It stings that Jungkook is standing up there, looking as handsome as ever, but his eyes aren’t on the couple. They keep flickering to you no matter how much you try to pretend that they don’t.

It stings that even though you don’t think about marriage often - or maybe you just don’t allow yourself to - you can’t deny that the thought does cross your mind from time to time. Any time that you’d wander the corridors inside your head, you’d pass the doors that you keep unopened on purpose but there’s always that one door marked with a bright red X that you can never sidestep.

You watch Junghyun and Sooji with their teary smiles and shaky hands, shaky but happy. There’s a sudden clarity that this could’ve been you and him in another life. Forever is a lie, but you would’ve perjured yourself a thousand times for him. I do - you would’ve meant it.

You imagine yourself in Sooji’s place, and Jungkook, standing right on the other side, holding both your hands in his. A beautiful and radiant bride terrified of the altar. A dashing groom with a smile that could rival the sun and shoulders weighing heavier than he lets on.

It would’ve looked clumsy, but it could’ve been right.

You wonder if he’s wondering the same thing. Maybe he is. You hope he is.

When the ceremony ends with a kiss shared between the newlyweds, you wipe away the tears that well up in your eyes. The people around you do the same thing, but they’re doing it for the right reason, out of genuine joy for the happy couple. You don’t think you can say the same for yourself.

Some of the bridesmaids fawn over him. It’s reasonable, you suppose. One tends to do that in the presence of Jeon Jungkook.

You watch as they come up to him one by one to ask him to dance, watch as he politely declines until they’re all stalking away with similar pouts on their faces. You watch him until his eyes lock on you, sitting at a table near the back, nursing a glass of champagne.

He weaves himself with ease through the people making their way to the dance floor. When he’s in front of you, he holds out a hand.

“Dance with me?” he asks, his doe eyes working overtime to lure you in with their sparkles, though you’d rather stay here where you can easily go unnoticed until the night ends. “One song?”

“I don’t know how,” you say, even as you’re taking his hand and standing up.

“I showed you how, remember?”

“That was a long time ago.”

He squeezes you reassuringly. “Just follow my lead,” he says, walking the both of you to the floor. “C’mon.”

Once the music starts, your heels stomp on his feet at least three times before you start finding the beat to move along to. Muscle memory, or whatever, is bullshit. You remember absolutely nothing of what he showed you.

You’re grateful that the song is slow, because it makes it easier for you to follow the beat with your two left feet. He takes one of your hands in his, the other settling on the small of your back, guiding you to move in a steady rhythm.

You feel his mother’s eyes on the two of you, because she must be somewhere nearby, watching you like a hawk. You feel his gaze on your face while you keep yours on the knot of his tie, just trying to keep your composure and to not step on his feet with your heels.

The blur of white that you catch from the periphery of your vision makes you turn your head. Sooji and Junghyun are close by, swaying together slowly to the soft music, both of them glowing with happiness. She must sense your eyes on her, because she lifts her gaze up to meet yours. She smiles at the sight of you and Jungkook, and you smile back, because you don’t know how else to respond to that.

You don’t say it, but you do think it. Your fingers tighten around his hand ever so slightly.

Could that have been us?

If the answer is yes, then it would hurt.

If the answer is no, then it would hurt.

The point of your story is that it’s painful however you choose to look at it. There’s no other way to frame it. It’s just painful, because you’re never going to get any of it back.

You bite your lip, then turn away from the happy couple but you still don’t look at Jungkook. You look at your hand in his, and that’s when you see it.

“How’d you get that?” you ask, gently tracing the inch of slightly raised skin on his knuckles. You never noticed the scar until now.

“It was four years ago, I think? After Taehyung and I almost got into a fight, I went outside and… punched a wall,” he says, wincing as he recalls the memory.

His answer takes you aback. “You and Taehyung got into a fight?”

“Almost,” he corrects. “It was a long time ago. Didn’t they tell you?”

“No, they didn’t say anything. What happened?”

“Nothing happened.”

“If it was really nothing, you wouldn’t have punched a wall.” You frown. It makes you miss a few beats, but the song isn’t what’s important now, even if Jungkook is still trying to steer you back into the dance. “Taehyung isn’t violent. You aren’t violent.”

“I’m serious,” he says finally. “It’s nothing. We were just drunk and stupid.”

You know there must be more to it, that something must have happened or been said to trigger such a reaction from both of them. But you also know that you won’t probably get anything out of Jungkook if he doesn’t want to tell you.

You give up, for now. “Fine. If you say so.” You’ll just have to weasel it out of Jimin later.

The song comes to an end, before another one comes on. If Jungkook remembers that he only asked for one song, maybe he’s counting his blessings that you’re still here and dancing with him, because he doesn’t mention it.

For some reason, you pull your hand away from his, only to slide up his shoulder to lock both of your hands behind his neck. He seems surprised, but he does the same around your waist.

Jungkook’s gaze flickers to your lips briefly, then back to your eyes again. You find yourself doing the same and wonder what he tastes like after all the time you’ve been apart. Is he still as sweet as you remember? You used to tease that it was because of the excessive sugar he put in everything, but you knew it was really just him. The few inches between you are so inviting that it’s practically tempting you to close the gap. You could, easily in fact. Blame it on one too many glasses of champagne later if you want.

He looks younger like this, like the boy you loved, starry eyes and dimpled smile. His shoulders are always the most comfortable resting place, the crook of his neck your long lost home. This is nice, you think, to see him again even though it feels like a fever dream. Memories of your first date, your first kiss, come to life before your eyes so realistically that you could almost touch them.

Loved? That sounds funny to you.

The people you used to be, souls wrapped in innocence, when the world was nothing but the arms of the person you loved. You reach out, and the memories quickly fade from view. The only trace they leave behind is a speck of gold on your fingertips, a memento of charming naiveté for you to tuck neatly away in the corner of your mind, but also a reminder that ah, they only exist in the locket of your heart now. Because he has changed, and you think you must have too. Life, as they say, goes on.

“We made it. Kind of. That’s crazy,” you find yourself saying.

“Did we?”

“You don’t think so?” you chuckle. “We’re in a group chat with the Kim Seokjin who spams it with bad jokes on a daily basis. I’d call that a win.”

That makes him laugh. “If you put it like that, yeah, maybe. Sure.”

Other people might be fooled, but it doesn’t sound at all convincing to you. The light doesn’t really reach his eyes. You bite the inside of your cheek, thinking of how to translate the sudden poignant turn of the moment.

“It isn’t everything you hoped it’d be?” you ask.

His shoulders rise then fall quickly in a second-long shrug. “I thought it would make me feel more… fulfilled. But it doesn’t. Not really.”

The way he says it and the way he’s looking at you makes your heart dive. You understand what he means. You’re good at what you do, and you don’t need reassurance from anyone to recognize that. But sometimes, it doesn’t feel like it’s enough. Doesn’t feel like it’s real, like it’s validated.

When you landed your first big project, even before Yoongi, you were so proud of yourself. You were bursting with excitement but you weren’t happy, and you knew what the reason was. Something was missing that couldn’t be filled, not even with all your friends’ hundreds of messages of encouragement.

It’s beyond stupid, this feeling like your wins amount to nothing at all just because of one person. You wanted him there to celebrate every achievement with you and he wasn’t, and the milestones seemed incomplete without the presence of him. It doesn’t feel like you’ve accomplished anything because this always used to be a dream you thought you’d make come true together.

“It’s lonely,” he concludes.

It sounds like he feels the same way, like he wanted you to be there too.

He suddenly holds you tighter than you think he needs to, like he’s afraid to let go of you. You imagine that he doesn’t want to let go of you, and it makes you feel better for a second. But it doesn’t change the fact that he still did in the end. And he will have to when this ends.

What was the point of this? Why did he bring this upon yourselves when he seems to be as hurt as you are? All of this time, all of these years, lost to what? You could’ve been happy together but instead, you were both lost and miserable.

When the music stops - you lost count of how many songs it’s been - you pull away from him. He looks disappointed, maybe even a little hurt for some reason.

“I’m gonna get some air,” you say, already turning away from him.

“Y/N-”

“I need some air.” Then you’re weaving through the dancing couples despite Jungkook calling your name. How did he manage it? How did he not look back when you called out for him?

You hastily grab your coat on the way out. It’s not going to keep you warm, but that’s not something you’re even remotely concerned with.

It’s everywhere, you feel it down to your bones.

The wind wraps itself tightly around you, intertwining in your hair, slipping through the cracks of your fingers, caressing your face in a chilling touch. You greet the cold like a long lost sister, shivering violently with nostalgia. It was there for you more than your own flesh and blood.

Is that why you like the sea at night? Because it reminds you of mom?

It’s dark out here, barely anything is visible except for a lighthouse sending out light in the quiet of the night. You can’t see much, but you can certainly hear it. You’re not sure if the music is coming from inside the venue, or if it’s still ringing in your ears. It’s probably the latter; you’re too far away to be able to catch the music anyway. But regardless, the tune is quickly drowned out by the sea.

The waves crash violently against the shore like it’s out for blood. There’s a magnetic pull, as if it’s calling out for you. You want to go to it, to reach out and feel the cold outside of your body for once, but you stay there despite your legs itching to stand up and run straight ahead. Into the water and down under.

You could lie down and close your eyes for a moment. The sound of the water, as sharp and brutal as it is, nurtures a part of you somehow.

You just want to be alone. You don’t want to talk to Taehyung, or Jimin, or even Yoongi.

Oh.

Yoongi.

It’s a terrible feeling, knowing that you’re going to hurt Yoongi. Knowing that you’re going to kill this even before it has a chance to truly begin.

Truth be told, you can’t envision a future with Yoongi. There isn’t anything wrong with him, because he’s not the problem here. Yoongi is fun, he’s considerate, he keeps things light on purpose for you, until you’re ready to initiate something more serious. He’s good for you, even Taehyung thinks so.

But you can’t love Yoongi, not in the way that he wants you to. Not more than you love Jungkook.

There you go. Ruining things again.

Did you ruin Jungkook? Is that what happened?

The layers on you are no match for the sea at night. The wind hisses relentlessly, biting at any part of your skin that’s exposed.

It takes you back to that night. Almost everything does, actually.

Maybe that’s why you never even stopped to consider starting anything with anyone, because it always ends. If there’s a beginning, then there will be an inevitable ending. Love isn’t made to last and you aren’t meant to carry love with you. You’ve been abandoned twice. If it happens a third time, it’s a pattern, and then your hypothesis will only be proven. That the problem here is you.

You’d be lying if you said you haven’t wondered when it’ll finally be Taehyung’s turn to leave. He eventually will, right? That one’s gonna hurt.

Then, you’re startled when someone calls your name.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks. The wind and the waves masked the sound of his footsteps walking up to you. When you turn around to face him, his eyes grow worried, almost panicked. “Why are you crying?”

You breathe out irritatedly before you hastily wipe at your cheeks. You didn’t even realize that you’d been crying. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine,” you say, though you both know it’s a lie. “I’m just tired. I’m going up to my room.”

He catches your wrist in a firm grip when you try to walk away. You wish he’d just leave you alone, but you knew he wouldn’t drop it just like that.

“I said I’m fine,” you insist.

“You were crying,” he says. “Did I do something wrong?”

He didn’t, at least not tonight.

God, you really don’t want to do this right now.

“Jungkook,” you warn. “Let go of me.”

You try to free yourself from his grip, hoping that he’ll get the hint and back off for now. Instead, he pulls you into his chest, where you struggle to escape from his hold until you realize your efforts are futile. He takes the wind’s place, wound tightly around you, so tightly that it’s nearly impossible for you to move.

You hiss out his name, but he doesn’t budge.

“Jungkook, can you just- Fuck!”

Damn him.

You realize he’s not giving up, which in turn makes you give up struggling, hoping that if you let this be a moment, then it’ll be something that can pass.

You’re just standing there, letting him hold you, letting yourself be held by the person who broke you in the first place. This feels exactly like where you’re supposed to be - in his arms, with your face hidden in the crook of his neck, his gentle fingers stroking your hair. There’s not a lot that you could do but lean into that feeling the same way you lean into him. One foot in the sand, one foot in the past. A hand on the doorknob of time, wondering if you should look back or look forward.

You want to be alone, but that never used to apply with him.

The wind stills, the sea calms. You remain unmoving too, locked in his embrace. You feel the faint rhythm of his heart, beating faster than you think it should. If you could, you would bottle this moment up and live there forever.

I miss you, you think.

I miss you.

Then your arms are around him too. It only makes him hold you tighter, and all you can think about is how much you miss him, how painful it is to miss him, how you feel like you’re being pulled apart at the seams from the weight of missing him.

Fuck.

Can you pretend that the last few years never happened? Is there a higher power that would allow you to go back to the night before that wretched Wednesday, when everything was still perfect? Hundreds of days of your life, can you pretend that it was just one long nightmare? When you wake up, you’ll be back in his humble apartment, tangled up together in his bed. Warm sunlight, your silken youth, and him. It was all you ever needed.

Again with the devastating familiarity. The city, the beach. His mother’s warmth that always made you reminisce about your own mother’s coldness. How Jungkook used to find you in moments like this and just stayed by your side until the dejection passed. He understood that he could never understand it the way you did.

You hear yourself sniffle, then you feel him press a kiss into your hair. Home is comforting.

Oh, you never want to leave.

You don’t want to leave, and that’s terrifying.

You allow yourself to stay there for one more second - one endless second - so you could commit to memory what it’s like to be with him. Back and forth. It’s always so easy to fall into him.

Jungkook releases you when he feels you loosen after a while, and you reluctantly meet his eyes as he tilts your head to face him. His fingers cradling your jaw, how warm and delicate they feel on your skin.

You swallow thickly, your mind going blank. He’s the only person you see, the only one that matters. His eyes flicker south, and even then you don’t make any move to run away, despite his loose grip on your waist telling you that you can if you want to.

You told him that it would pass, and maybe for him, it will. For him, it’s the city and the moment, making him feel like he’s caught up in a page that he’s turned over a long time ago. He was fine with leaving, and he’s been fine without you. It will pass for him, as much as it hurts you to admit it.

But not for you. For you, there’s only him. There’s nobody else but him. It’s always been him, no matter how hard you try to tell yourself that there will be another person you can love as much as you love Jungkook. You might only be a page, perhaps even a chapter, in the story of his life, but he’s your entire book. He’s volume after volume after volume, until he takes up the whole shelf and leaves no room for anything else, not even for yourself.

And now here he is - at the biggest turn in your career.

He’s a bad blood cell you can’t ever get rid of.

You’ll never be able to truly let go of him. How could you? When you truly love someone, those feelings will carry on forever. They’ll always have a piece of your heart despite an ending. When you look back on a certain period in your life, you’ll think to yourself, You’ll always be a part of me. I loved you then.

But Jungkook is a force of nature. He has your whole heart.

Years and years from now, when you look back on your life, you know you’ll see him everywhere. Even when you’re old and gray, and when faces all just blur together in a mosaic of broken memories and long lost youth, you know you’ll still remember him - the person you loved, the one whom you let slip through your fingers. The great love of your life when you were young.

Sometimes, you regret that day. You can’t help feeling like it was your fault too. Maybe you should’ve tried harder to keep him. You should’ve fought harder, should’ve held onto him instead of standing there and watching him leave.

He lit the match, and you let the house burn. It takes two to tango, two to break a heart.

You’re quick to let people leave. Oh, how you wish it could be that easy to let them go too.

It isn’t until your eyes mimic the flicker of his gaze that he leans in. You meet him halfway. For the first time in years, you feel like you could breathe, truly breathe. It’s achingly slow, like neither of you can believe that this is happening.

You sigh against his mouth when his tongue brushes your bottom lip, slips past the seal to devour you. It feels like a perfect dream. You could stay in this bubble with him forever, pretend that you’re the only two people who exist in the world and there’s nothing else, no one else, waiting for you in a city that seems so far away right now. The thought of him never left you, not even for a second. He’s always been with you everywhere you go, no matter what you do, always in the back of your mind.

He tastes like your youth, like remembrance. He kisses you like he’s still yours when deep down you know that you’re still his. The hand on your jaw is gentle but firm, and it makes you repeat a thought, I miss you.

Then a feeling, I love you.

Not then. Now.

I love you now.

I love you even when I shouldn’t. Even when it hurts. Even when you leave me. Even when you don’t love me more than I love you. If there comes a day where you love somebody else, I will still love you then. There will never be another person for me but you. My first and only love.

When he pulls away, you think it’s too quick, even though your lungs are grateful for the breath that you instantly inhale. You stare at his lips like you’re in a daze, mesmerized, wanting to chase them again. You don’t even know how you have it in yourself to utter these next words, but you hear your own voice saying them anyway.

You’re holding onto him now. Doesn’t that count?

“Let’s…” Your fingers tighten on the collar of his dress shirt. “Let’s go up to your room.”

note (2): so... what do we think?? will they?? won't they?? 😵 stay tuned for obs7.5 which will be dropping 29.09.2023! also i'm gonna pause obs muse asks for a little bit! 😬

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talesofesther · 2 years ago

Text

late night blues

Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: Tara is often plagued by the memories of what she's been through. Luckily she has you to remind her that life can still be warm and sweet.

A/N: This idea was given to me by my dear @iamnicodemus, I really hope you like it. It is my first time writing for Tara, guys, so be nice to me. Requests for her are open, just be mindful of my guidelines. <3

Masterlist

The TV was talking to itself. It was late at night already, too late for you to not be in bed.

But you were starting to get used to the constant noise of the cars on the streets, and the couch was so comfortable.

After the days you've been having, the short walk to the bedroom felt like too much of an effort.

Though it wasn't the smartest decision, because when you stirred awake with the sound of erratic knocking on your door, your neck and back were complaining in pain.

You opened your eyes slowly, lazily blinking away the sleepiness and adjusting to the bright TV in front of you. It was some poor reporter who was talking, forced to say the less exciting news at — with a frown, you felt around on the couch until you found your cellphone — 2:47 AM, great.

Leaving your phone on the coffee table, you stretched your sore muscles, basking in the eery feeling of having only the TV and street lamps from outside as your source of light in the small hotel room.

It was a temporary situation, only until everyone could get properly settled in New York. A cheaper hotel in the outskirts of the city, the rooms weren't huge — just a small joined living room and an excuse for a kitchen, bathroom, and bedroom — but it was enough, cozy in its own simple way.

The knocking came again and brought your still drowsy body back to reality. You got up from the couch with a groan and dragged yourself to the door.

Upon turning the lock and opening the door, you regretted not doing a quicker job of greeting your late-night visitor.

Tara stood in front of you, shaking like a leaf. She wore her fluffy pink jacket, hugging it impossibly closer to her body the best way she could manage with her bandaged hand; shifting awkwardly on her feet. The dim orange light of the hallway reflected against her cheeks, allowing you to see fading tear tracks on them. Her eyes, red-rimmed and wide, were looking at you with a silent plea.

"Hey," you whispered gently, tentatively. You peeked outside to take a one-second glance to the right where the door to her and Sam's room was, "is everything okay?"

Tara's lips hovered yet she couldn't speak, a lump formed in her throat that she had to gulp back. The nightmares — memories — remained all too vivid in her mind, blurring her sight and forcing her to stifle a sob.

She came looking for her source of comfort before even fully waking up, in nothing but a mess of unsteady feet and shaky breaths.

It was unfair, that someone so innocent took the worst of it.

You reached out a hand for her with the encouragement you knew she needed, "come here."

Tara limped forward, a lone tear rolling down her cheek. Maybe because walking was still painful. She said nothing as she threw herself into your arms, soft sobs being muffled by your hoodie.

You did your best to hold her tightly and stay mindful of her still-healing injuries. One hand cradling her head, your lips brushing the shell of her ear as you whispered promises you hoped to keep.

There was an unbearable weight to your chest whenever Tara came to you in nothing but shreds of herself. Barb wire wrapping itself around your throat like a constant reminder of the permanent scars.

Sometimes you wish you could take her pain to yourself.

You felt her tears trickling down your neck when Tara buried herself into you. She sucked in a sharp breath when she accidentally pressed her injured hand too forcefully into you — yet refused to let go despite the bitter sting.

Keeping one hand around her, you used the spare one to close the door. Turning the lock, just in case.

"Let's sit down, I can make you some hot chocolate if you want," you suggested, gently swinging your bodies together from side to side.

With a sniff, Tara pulled back, using your arms for support to ease the tension on her bad leg. She gave you a soft nod with an even softer smile. It was bittersweet to see her glistening, swollen eyes trying to convey some happiness.

You took her to the couch, sitting her down on the same spot you were previously occupying. There was a fuzzy blanket that instantly became your favorite when you checked in the hotel for the first time a few nights ago; you brought it around Tara's shoulders, making sure she was all snug and warm before you turned to go to the kitchen.

Tara's eyes widened the slightest bit at the mere idea of you putting distance between you and her, it tugged at your heartstrings that something so simple got her so terrified.

You kissed her forehead and promised to be back in less than five minutes. And you did, holding a warm mug of hot chocolate between your hands.

She deserves nothing but sweetness and warmth anyway.

Before sitting down beside Tara, you took a second to yourself to take her in. She looked adorably small between the mountain of blankets and cushions; her hair was a bit of a mess, up in what was supposed to be a bun, a few strands still clinging to the cold sweat on her forehead; she was looking at the TV, but you could tell her eyes were unfocused.

Tara offered a piece of the blanket to you as soon as you were beside her, carefully taking the mug you offered. She hummed appreciatively after the first sip, allowing the sweetness to calm her nerves.

She had one hand around the mug, the other feeling between the blankets until she found yours and gingerly took it, closing her fingers around yours the best she could with the bandage on her palm.

Unbeknownst to you, you became Tara's anchor. You were the person she sought out when the memories became too much to bear. It's not often that she wants to talk about it, trying to avoid at all costs to relive all that happened — all that panic, the pain, the fear of trying to crawl away from death but knowing you're not fast enough. So most nights, you hold her, you warm her up, you try to get her to smile, you make her hot chocolate. Warm and sweet.

And it was just your mistake, that your cellphone was not muted.

Its ringing was loud in the middle of the quiet night, vibrating against the coffee table as the screen lit up with Sam's name.

Tara flinched back so forcefully that even you got startled, she spilled a bit of the hot drink on her fingers but didn't really react to it, her eyes glued to your phone. Her breathing was suddenly all over the place, too fast as she couldn't get enough air in.

You mumbled a string of curses under your breath, getting up so fast that you almost fell face-first on the floor when your feet got tangled in the blankets.

Firstly you took the mug with hot chocolate from Tara's hand, she was shaking violently and you didn't want her burning herself. Then you answered the damn phone.

"Hey… she's here, don't worry," you comforted a worried Sam, keeping your eyes on Tara.

Your heart broke all over again.

With unsteady hands, Tara scrambled for the inhaler in her pocket, doing her best to ease her breathing. The images of the TV highlighted the path her tears left behind, with more still pooling on the bottom lid of her dark eyes.

"Yeah, of course," you spoke, setting down the mug on the coffee table, "I will, bye Sam."

You sighed, feeling a wave of guilt wash over you, "hey, it's okay," you turned off your phone, making sure to put it on silent mode.

Tara tried drying off her cheeks, quiet sobs making her shoulders shake.

Your feelings escaped you and you sat down beside her, taking her into your arms, "it was just Sam, she didn't know where you were." You spoke against her hair, moving your hand up and down her back to try and ground her. "I'm so sorry," you whispered.

Tara had a white-knuckled grip on your hoodie, her lips brushing your collarbone. "I keep getting back there," there was a sudden rawness to her voice, it broke by the end and she could taste the salt of her own tears, "every time I close my eyes, or- or hear a damn phone ringing, I'm back at the hospital, at my house-" a sob interrupted her, but the feeling of your arms tightening around her kept her going, "only this time, I can't get away."

Each beating of your heart hurts against your ribs, it wants to leap out of your chest and into her hands — even this close is not close enough; even with her in your arms, you still want to protect her more. Your thumb found the corner of her lip and moved up her cheek, brushing away her tears with the pad of your finger like a promise of safety.

"I can't sleep. I'm terrified of being alone," Tara melted against you, her good hand sneaking under your hoodie to feel the warmth there, "it's almost as if I- I see her-" she cut herself off and you knew she was talking about Amber, sometimes you wondered what hurt her more; the wounds or the betrayal.

Tara took in a shaky breath, her lips quivering, "I see her in dark corners, and it- it hurts-" she cradled her bandaged hand close to her chest, striving to chase away the hurt, the memories. The small act got you holding back tears.

"Because we were- we-"

"I know," you reassured her, feeling how it was becoming increasingly harder for her to speak. You cupped her face as your lips found her cheeks and you lightly kissed away her tears. "You never deserved any of it, and I'm so sorry I couldn't stop it from happening."

The back of your throat was burning. You brushed back loose strands of her hair, admiring how the freckles over her nose took in the glow of the street lamps that sneaked through the windows; thanking every possible entity that she was here for you to do so, "I'm so sorry I wasn't there. You have no idea how scared I was of losing you."

Tara blinked her eyes open, teardrops still clinging to her eyelashes. "You're here now. As am I." She said as a reassurance both to you and herself.

Your heart bled for her and her only. It hurt just how much you felt for her, how much you loved her. Though it was the good kind of pain.

You smiled, ever so gentle with the way you took hold of her hand — because gentleness is all she deserves — and placed a kiss on each of her knuckles, your lips brushing over the white bandages on her hand.

"I hope you know you're never getting rid of me."

And Tara chuckled, all teary-eyed and fragile, the smile finally somewhat reaching her eyes. "I'm counting on it."

It felt a lot like healing. And truth was, maybe you were both a bit of a mess, but existing together made it feel like you didn't need anything else to feel whole again.

A beat passed where you two just looked at each other, both wondering if the other is feeling the same, yet not having the courage to ask.

Tara's chest was rising and falling more steadily now. Without the weight of — for lack of a better word — your trauma, the hotel room held an intimacy to it.

Her eyes drifted down to where your hand held onto hers. Where others hurt, you cared. She was looking at you as if you were everything she'd ever thirsted for; as if no one else made sense.

"You think it's already cold?" Tara tilted her head to the mug on the table, if anything, to clear the sudden timidness growing between you.

You hummed, stretching forward to grab the mug, "I don't think so," you brought it to your lips and took a sip, the sweet beverage still warm on your tongue.

Tara took it from you with a smirk threatening to appear; she leaned back on the couch, hugging the covers closer to her chest and drinking from the same spot your lips had just been.

You're not sure why it raised goosebumps on your skin.

On the TV, a random movie had been playing for a while now, you didn't care much for it as long as it worked to take Tara's mind off of things — which seemed to be working just fine. She snuggled up to you as soon as you leaned back as well, her head finding your shoulder as she kept her eyes on the pirates braving the seven seas in front of her.

You could get used to this, you decided.

"Can I stay here for the night?" Tara asked hesitantly, glancing up at you, "the rest of the night, that is."

You bumped her knee with yours. As if you'd ever say no. "Only if you promise to stay tomorrow too."

And every day after.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3

Tara’s taglist: @milkiane @v1ci0us

#tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter imagine #tara carpenter #scream #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x fem reader #taracarpenteredit #imagine #fanfic #fluff #angst #tara carpenter fanfic #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #my story

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otomiyaa · 3 months ago

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Ticklish Vyn Richter x Reader

Romantic + 47. “I wasn’t even touching you.” Requested by anon for my 1K Followers Event🌻

It was still early and the scent of coffee and baked egg still lingered in your apartment as you cleaned up the kitchen.

You hummed and thought about today's plans. "Vyn, will you join me to the store today? I need to get some groceries."

"Sure thing." Vyn stood right by your side to help you clean up and -

"AHh!" you suddenly yelped and pulled your arms back immediately. The salt which you were trying to put on the top shelf fell from your hands, and you watched how the little container fell on the floor, scattering the contents all over.

Vyn stared at it. "I guess we need new salt too," he said dryly. You sighed.

"I'm sorry about that," you whined, and you kneeled down to clean up the mess.

"What happened anyway? Did I startle you?" Vyn asked. You blushed.

"I thought... I thought you were going to tickle me. Silly, right?"

You glanced shyly at his reaction, and he chuckled.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did you want me to?"

"No! You just moved your hand like that, and my arms were up and... it's a normal reflex, don't worry about it."

"I think it's because you're just too ticklish," Vyn said teasingly. You gasped and blushed even more.

"Dr. Vyn, as a psychiatrist you should know everything about human reactions like this. It's called anticipation. A-anyone would've reacted like this."

"Only anyone who's as ticklish as you are. Very true, sweetie."

You held back a laugh. Sometimes Vyn was just too smug and teasy. Such a know-it-all. You interrupted the salt-cleaning by grabbing his wrist, and you pulled him up. You cornered him against the kitchen counter and looked at him intensely.

"I'll show you. Here. Arms up."

Vyn stared at you. "And if I don't want to?"

You rolled your eyes. "Then I'll say you're a childish doctor who can't prove he's right. So, arms up!"

Vyn, though still smirking and looking way too confident, raised his arms.

"I think you're actually being the childish one here, but I won't say it. So, like this?" He put his hands behind his head.

You nodded. "That's more like a model pose, but sure. So I move my hands like this," you said, moving your hands closer to his exposed torso.

Shit. He didn't even twitch! He cocked his head. "And then what?" he asked.

"And then..." You moved your hands even closer. Damn, was it really just you? Too ticklish to even get someone's hand close to you whenever you lift your arms without activating your jumpy reflexes? You knew Vyn was ticklish too. Maybe not as bad as you were, but you really thought he'd react.

Hm... You wiggled your fingers experimentally. Now that worked. Vyn lowered his arms in surprise.

"What's wrong? I wasn’t even touching you." Now it was your turn to be smug. Vyn glared at you.

"I didn't wiggle my fingers. It doesn't count," he said, grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers to make you stop wiggling them right next to him.

"Oh but it does count. I was proving to you that reacting because of anticipating tickles could happen to anyone. Unless... you fall in the same category as me? Are you that ticklish as well? I don't recall it," you teased, and you were pleased when you successfully landed an attack: you brought your free hand to his side and started to tickle.

"Hehehey! Don't - now y-you're just beheing- ahhhahah!" Vyn giggled. Cute. He dropped your other hand and tried to catch the tickly one, not realizing he freed your hand to do just the same. Now you could tickle him with both hands, and Vyn wiggled charmingly against the kitchen counter.

"I'm just being ahahah? I'm afraid I do not understand, doctor," you sang. Vyn's reflex was taking him further back into the kitchen in a cute ticklish dancing routine. You chuckled when you flexibly hopped around the salt on the floor while he pranced right through it with his bare feet.

"Right through the salt you go," you giggled, catching him again when he couldn't go further. Then when you managed to dig both your claws into his tummy from behind, you really had him. Your lover thought he could tease you about being ticklish without consequences? Think again!

"Okahahay! Point mahahade! Now s-stohohop!" Vyn laughed. Usually strong enough to pin you down and tickle you to tears, Vyn actually didn't seem able to shake you off him right now. You couldn't believe you hadn't tried to tickle him before. Well, at least not like this.

You had sometimes given him a soft tickle here and there, a little poke or some flirty things like sliding your finger down his back, enough to make him gasp or giggle, but it'd usually result in just a mild reaction and your own downfall.

What a nice discovery on a plain Saturday morning!

"Ihihif you d-don't stop hehe- I'll-!" You didn't let him finish and managed to twirl him around so you could stand on your toes to kiss him.

Vyn laughing like this really had made you fall in love with him even more. You felt him relax, as did your fingers on his sides. You wrapped your arms around his middle. Pressing your body against him, you really were getting ready to taste more of him. But no making out was going to happen the moment Vyn buried his fingers under your arms.

"HNGah!" You jumped with your arms still around him, and your eyes widened in realization.

"I was going to say... If you don't stop, I'll get you back twice as much. Did you want that to happen?" Vyn asked in such a stern voice it sounded sexy.

"I.... I stohohopped!" you laughed, but Vyn was already tickling you. Well, that was bound to happen, and soon you sank through your knees and literally went rolling through the salt, squealing and cackling while Vyn had his well-deserved revenge.

Oh well, adding this salty tickle fight to your romantic experiences with Vyn Richter... you couldn't really complain!

#x reader tickles #vyn richter #x reader #vyn richter x reader #tickling #tickle fic #tears of themis #tot #otomiya!writes #lee!vyn

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magesforthedas · 5 days ago

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Veilguard Faction Ages:

Okay, join me on another “it’s 3am and I should be sleeping, but I couldn’t until I’d thoroughly researched this line of thought!” Minor spoilers for early VG ahead.

Antaam

The Antaam invade Tevinter around 9:44/9:45 Dragon, not on the orders of the Qun. The Qunari the Inquisitor meets in Trespasser are probably Antaam, though idk if it says that? So they could’ve broken away 9:43-9:44?

Edit: friendly commenter shared that there's a letter where it says that Antaam broke off because the Ben-Hassrath refused to continue the operation after the Inquisitor stopped them in Trespasser. So officially 9:44!

Shadow Dragons

The Shadow Dragons started out as the Lucerni, formed sometime between 9:41-9:44 Dragon. When Maevaris Tilani was framed for treason and the Lucerni dissolved, she took them underground and transformed the movement into the Shadow Dragons.

Maevaris says she’s been laying low since the allegations, that her title had been stripped… a Shadow Dragon Rook says they hadn’t heard that, and wouldn’t that had to have happened before the “Shadow Dragons” were even formed, and thus Rook a part of it? So that would be somewhat old news, since before Rook has been away with Varric… Rook doesn’t keep up with politics, I guess😂

Based off the VG codex entries I found (Neve’s notes), Mae was kicked from the Magisterium “over a year ago”, and based on the order of the codex, shortly after this she met Tarquin of the Shadow Dragons, and he was probably working with them then. Then or sometime after, she was recruited; How long has Neve been with the Shadow Dragons?

Best guess: 9:42ish the Lucerni were formed, after Dorian went back to Tevinter, before Trespasser. Sometime between 9:48-9:50 is when the Lucerni were dissolved and the Shadow Dragons were formed; long enough for the Lucerni to start to gain momentum, and make the opposition nervous, which is when they tried to tear it down. Rook would have left with Varric in 9:51, since Veilguard is supposed to be in 9:52 and you were with Varric for a year. Rook probably wasn’t part of the Shadow Dragons right at the start, but it could be pretty close if you take into account the letter found about Dorian reaching out to the Mercar family, who’s head of house was sympathetic to the Shadow Dragons. Rook could’ve realistically been with the group for a few years, or even just a few months, depending on when you think the Shadow Dragons were formed, and when Rook joined. Although, it would make sense that you and Neve haven’t met if she joined just before or after you left with Varric, so that would point to Maevaris being framed around 9:49-9:50.

Veil Jumpers

Bellara says the Veil Jumpers are pretty new, just since Arlathan Forest started getting even more chaotic. I can’t say exactly why, but I feel like in Dragon Age new/old terms, it could have been around for like… 5 years? That would put the date roughly 9:47 Dragon. We know Strife was spying on the Antaam after they took Ventus (Three Trees to Midnight), so around 9:44-9:45? Then later Strife and Irelin were sent to find an artifact in Arlathan Forest, which was when they discovered the magic had gone crazy (Ruins of Reality). Unfortunately, there isn’t any kind of date on that, but it just means we know more was happening before the Veil Jumpers started. So sometime between 9:47-9:50 is likely for their official start.

Lords of Fortune

The Lords of Fortune, upon actually reading my codex entries haha, were formed by Isabela and friends; she’s “been with the Lords since before we were the Lords. Back then it was just a bunch of sea raiders-“

Shathann left the Qun presumably when Taash was quite little, if they “went through a lot of spoons as a baby”. They were taken in by the Lords of Fortune, but a Lord Rook has never met Taash. This speaks to either: A. Shathann and Taash were not immediately taken in by the Lords, or B. Taash is pretty young, and only officially joined the Lords after you left (a year before VG), though Shathann would have been with them for longer.

It doesn’t sound like the Lords were around at the start of Inquisition, as you can ask Varric about her, and he says she went back to the Raiders of the Waking Sea and is calling herself an Admiral, though he doesn’t know if that’s official or a self-styled title. Isabela is a field agent for the Inquisition according to the multiplayer mode, so could she have formed the Lords after that? Either after 9:42 when the biggest battle happened, or after 9:44 when it was officially dissolved/merged with the chantry.

Also side note, Antaam vs Qunari (with notes from Shathann) by Taash, age 14; this was written after the Antaam broke from the Qun. So since that was 9:44, if the note is directly from that time Taash would be 22 in 9:52 (edited for clarity after comment!). After I realized this I found a note on the wiki that Taash is early 20’s, from a developer’s Q&A, which I then found the said Taash is the youngest, early 20’s (close to Sera), Emmerich is oldest in his early 50’s the rest are somewhere around late 20’s/early 30’s.

If Shathann left because of the Antaam splitting from the Qun, then it could make sense for the Lords to have been around just prior. However, Taash talks about the Antaam attacks and how it’s made the Rivain locals scared of them- this could either mean :

Shathann left when Taash was much younger, well before the Antaam split, so possibly around the early 9:30s? The two may have settled into Rivain well before the Lords were formed, and Shathann started working for them possibly in 9:51, since a Lord Rook doesn’t know her either.

Shathann left around early 9:30s, but started working with the Lords soon after their founding, as Antaam attacks on Rivain may have made life more difficult.

Or, less likely I’d think, Shathann left with Taash and started worked with the Lords soon after their founding, so sometime in 9:42-9:46 when Taash was a teenager. It took the Antaam a few years for their attacks to hit Rivain, which is when Taash and their mother started facing more problems.

Assuming Taash did join after Rook left, a year is a short amount of time for all the adventures you hear bits of, but with so much happening it also makes sense.

Grey Wardens

The Grey Wardens, obviously, have been around since the First Blight (Specifically, founded in -305 Ancient), so they’re 1257 years old as of 9:52.

Antivan Crows

The Crows started as an arm of the Chantry in the area around Treviso: The Chant was popularized in Antiva in 1:45 Divine, so it would have been after that. There is supposedly a fair amount of Rivaini culture in the Crows (that’s where the tradition of their tattoos comes from), and the Rivaini-born Queen of Antiva was born 4:30 Black. So it’s possible that the Crows were formed after she came to power and Rivaini culture was more mixed into Antivan, or they could have already been around and that culture was incorporated in later. So they’re potentially somewhere between 500-800 years old.

Mourn Watch

The Mourn Watch are a branch of the Mortalitasi; the Mortalitasi Order was founded by Vitus Fabria, King Caspar Pentaghast’s personal advisor (and a Tevinter mage). Caspar Pentaghast seized control of Nevarra in 2:46 Glory. The Mourn Watch may not have been established right away, and I suppose there’s no way of knowing unless they tell us; was the Mourn Watch established right away, or later, after some kind of corruption or power struggle within the Mortalitasi occurred? So the Mourn Watch is at most 706 in 5:52, potentially younger by a couple hundred years.

ALSO I’ve seen some discussion about when Veilguard takes place; there are notes in the codex dating 9:52 Dragon, so it’s that year (or later I suppose, but I don’t think so) unless we are somehow seeing notes from the future :)

TL:DR my best guesses on Faction foundings and other related dates:

-305 Ancient - The Grey Wardens are founded

1:45 Divine-5:xx Exalted (?) - The Antivan Crows are founded

2:46-2:5x Glory - The Mortalitasi are formed, along with, or sometime thereafter, the Mourn Watch

9:41 Dragon - The events of Dragon Age: Inquisition begin

9:42 Dragon - The conclusion of the event of Inquisition

9:42-9:43 Dragon - Lucerni movement is formed

9:42-9:46 Dragon - The Lords of Fortune are founded

9:44 Dragon - The events of the Trespasser DLC. The Antaam break from the Qun

9:44-9:45 Dragon - The Antaam attack Tevinter cities, including Ventus. Strife is sent to spy on the Antaam

9:47-9:50 Dragon - Arlathan Forest’s magic starts going haywire. The Veil Jumpers are founded

9:49-9:50 Dragon - Maevaris is removed from the Magisterium and the Lucerni are dissolved. The Shadow Dragons are formed.

9:51 Dragon - Rook (from any background) leaves their organization to help Varric.

9:52 Dragon - The events of Dragon Age: The Veilguard begin

So, the Grey Wardens are the oldest, the the Mourn Watch and Antivan Crows are also pretty old. Then the Lords of Fortune, Veil Jumpers, and Shadow Dragons are baby organizations in comparison!

Thanks for reading y’all!

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girlactionfigure · 1 year ago

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Here are 50 Palestinian Lies Since Last Saturday, 7 October 2023:

1- Hamas killed nobody.

2- Hamas only killed IDF soldiers.

3- The soldiers Hamas targeted were not in uniform.

4- Okay, Hamas killed civilians, but they’re part of the occupation.

5- Hamas didn’t kill children.

6- Hamas didn’t burn children.

7- The fire was an accident.

8- Hamas didn’t kidnap children.

9- Hamas takes care of child hostages.

10- Hamas didn’t rape women.

11- Other people raped the women.

12- The Hamas fighters who raped will be punished.

13- Hamas didn’t bomb people hiding in bomb shelters.

14- Only one bomb shelter was bombed.

15 - Hamas didn’t shoot people as they fled.

16- The people who were shot while fleeing were guilty of occupation.

17- Hamas is not a terrorist group.

18- Hamas is a resistance group.

19- Jews began the conflict in 1948, Hamas is still resisting that today.

20- Hamas doesn’t idolize Hitler.

21- Only some Hamas members love Hitler.

22- Hamas is different from ISIS.

23- Only some Palestinians joined ISIS in 2014.

24- Hamas doesn’t want a global Caliphate, (when Hamas’ Charter says they strive for a global caliphate).

25- Hamas respects Human rights, but… “Jews are not Humans”

26- Palestinians don’t idolize Saddam Hussein, despite him having roads, roundabouts named after him in Gaza and West Bank - and his photos raised in Palestinian protests.

27- Hamas does not steal.

28- Hamas only takes what it needs to protect Palestinian interests.

29- Hamas doesn’t kill Palestinians.

30- Only some Hamas rockets accidentally land in Gaza and kill Palestinians.

31- Hamas never uses human shields.

32- Only in some cases Hamas may use human shields.

33- We don’t want to drown Jews in the sea. We want a peaceful solution.

34- There will be no peace until all the land is ours and the Jews return to Europe.

35- All the Arab states have betrayed us.

36- All the Arab states are supporting us.

37- Iran doesn’t fund Hamas.

38- Iran only supplies Hamas with weapons, not money.

39- Iran only pays our soldiers’ salaries.

40- Hamas is not the Muslim Brotherhood.

41- Hamas was only founded by the Muslim Brotherhood.

42- Palestinians didn’t support Osama Bin Laden.

43- Only some Palestinians (thousands) celebrated on 9/11.

44- Nobody gave Palestinians a chance to govern themselves.

45- Yes we elected Hamas in Gaza, but Hamas doesn’t represent us.

46- Sometimes Hamas represents us, and sometimes it doesn’t. It depends.

47- Palestinians are indigenous to the Holy Land.

48- Yasser Arafat was Egyptian, but he was also indigenous to Palestine.

49- Palestinians who stab Jews get paid because their families need to eat.

50- It’s all the Jewish people’s fault.

———

If you’ve seen another lie being amplified over the last week, feel free to add it to the list below.

Imam of Peace

#Israel #Hamas Lies #Imam of Peace

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asumofwords · 2 years ago

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Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: The reader is being eerily calm, all things considered. Good fucking lord, someone get these people a therapist or two.... Also loved all of your comments and messages, I absolutely adore hearing all of your thoughts and theories!!!! Saw someone say that the readers speech was eerily similar to Aemond's.... :) hehe enjoy

Chapter 47: The proposal

After Jacaerys had left your chambers, you joined him to walk around the castle. He told you of all that had happened in your absence. Of how incensed Daemon had become, and how your mother had broken down.

He told you of how the Lords and the Queen could barely talk Daemon from Caraxes.

He spoke of how he spent his evenings, questioning whether or not he should sneak into the Red Keep to get you himself. He spoke of how Joffrey noticed your absence, and Lucerys’. He spoke of how little Viserys and Aegon The Younger, with their soft silver hair, had babbled your name every day, waiting for you to join them in your parents chambers.

It was more detailed than the previous talks.

It was not an uplifting conversation. It was solemn, but it was needed. You told him about your time in your chambers, of the pain. Of the milk of the poppy. Of the Maester who had helped you, and your escape from the dungeon.

You told him of how Aegon tried to hurt you, but you did not tell him in which way. You told him of Aemond’s assault, and then your escape.

Jacaerys was quiet for this retelling. His eyes never left your face as you walked, and relived watching Aemond, hunched over Aegon, laying his fists brutally against the Kings face.

You told him of your days on the ship with Darras, and of meeting his brother. You answered all of his questions, except ones of Aemond. Those you did not wish to answer.

He asked once, to which you denied. He tried once more a short while later, to which you denied again. Only then did he not ask you a third time.

Sometimes, things were better off left unsaid, and this was one of those cases.

You ate dinner with your family that evening, and although it was a little stiff and uncomfortable at first, you all fell back into something familiar, something full of joy and relief. Almost as though the world around you wasn’t happening.

Almost.

There was still the ever present black cloud that hung over all of you.

The war.

Lucerys.

Visenya.

Your anger and bitter rage.

It was inescapable.

But as you had all learnt, all too abruptly, time with family was precious. You did not know when the next of you were to fall. That was war. It was inevitable. And despite all of your best efforts, it was to come sooner or later.

Daemon had walked you to your chambers that evening, more quiet than usual. His mind escaping him as he sought of a way to connect.

To talk to you, to ask of your wellbeing.

But you knew that he didn’t need to. Instead, you gave him a soft kiss on his cheek as you got to your door, a small smile, and a gentle bid of goodnight, before entering your chambers to sleep.

Days passed in a whirlwind of meetings and updates from the Lords at the table and Maester.

The war seemed to be at an impasse.

The eye of the storm.

The sudden calm before the destructive winds.

You all held a breath as you waited for news to come, that would shift the tide once more.

And suddenly, it was presented.

As you all stood around the table, looking at the map, the markers and thinking of how to move Lord Cregan Starks men into the Golden Tooth without endangering the entire war efforts, Ser Eryyk came to the table, small scroll in hand.

The paper was rolled neatly, a green wax stamp holding it shut. The sigil of House Targaryen pressed into the wax. You all waited with bated breath as the scroll was handed to your Queen, before she pulled the wax seal apart from the paper, slowly unravelling it at the head of the table.

A myriad of emotions moved across the Queens face.

Anger. Confusion. Hope. Disgust. Sadness.

And then, back to anger.

Something that was not uncommon in these times now, though you noticed that it looked harsher on her face more than ever.

There was once a time where such raw anger was not easily present on your mothers face, though because of the war, and all of the losses that came with it, her face had hardened.

Furrowed lines became permanent above her brow, and her lips were often, more than not, pursed into a deep frown.

You watched as Rhaenyra breathed, lowering the parchment onto the table as she looked down at it, before back up at the room, eyes stopping on you. Her lips twitched as you watched each other before she straightened.

She handed the parchment wordlessly to the Maester, who began to read aloud to the chambers.

“Prince Daeron is dead. He was present at Riverrun alongside the Greens army. His body was found amongst the masses.”

Daeron was dead…

Your youngest uncle.

In the Riverlands.

You had killed him.

You were….

“Aegon has expressed the possibility of a treaty.” Even Rhaenyra’s voice sounded shocked as she interrupted the Maester.

All eyes were on you.

You were a Kinslayer.

Just like Aemond.

You blinked.

“No.” Came Daemons voice from across the table.

“The realm would be split into two. Queen Rhaenyra would rule where her allies are, and Aegon where his are. Aegon would remain at Kings Landing.”

“You aren’t seriously considering this?” Daemons angry voice came from beside Rhaenyra.

“My Queen, what are the terms they have sent?” Lord Bartimos asked, voice cutting into the tension.

Rhaenyra looked down at the table, cutting her eyes away from you.

That was when you understood.

Daemon snatched the parchment from the Maester as he stormed down the table to stand beside you, the heat from his body crowding your space, as he swayed agitatedly on his feet, watching his wife.

Jacaerys stayed near your mother, looking at her for answers.

“Aegon has ordered the execution of Princess Y/n.”

You felt an ice cold chill spill over your body as you stood in shock, looking at your mother as her lavender eyes met yours.

“No.” Daemon growled as he read.

“Unless, we agree to the other conditions.” Rhaenyra finished for Maester Gerardys.

Without even being told, you knew what the other conditions were to be.

The proposal.

“If you think for one moment that I will let my daughter go back to that vipers nest, and marry that Kinslaying cunt, you are mad.” Daemon growled, moving his body slightly in front of yours as he slammed his hands down on the table.

The Maester stood stiffly to the side, looking at the Queen. You snatched the parchment out from underneath your fathers hand, beginning to read the sloped script.

You felt his keen eyes on you.

“Your Grace,” Lord Bartimos began, “You cannot be considering these terms?”

She did not answer, instead kept her eyes on you.

“In his wisdom, Aegon has offered terms of a treaty. The split of the realm into seperate Kingdoms so that both Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, and King Aegon Targaryen may rule.” The Maester continued.

“They offered The North? But the North is independent. That in itself would set us up to fail with the Northerners and Cregan Stark.” You interrupted.

All was quiet as Gerardys continued.

Your eyes paused on the script.

“King Aegon proposes that Princess Y/n, The Merciless, First of her Name, Eldest Daughter of Princess Rhaenyra, be wed to Prince Aemond, First of His name, Son of the late King Viserys, in the tradition of House Targaryen to further unify and strengthen the treaty.”

The Merciless.

“Fucking cravens.” Daemon growled.

“I’ll do it.” You blurted.

Daemons head snapped to yours, and Rhaenyra’s eyes widened.

“No you won’t. I refuse to let you do that. You will not marry that Kinslayer cunt.” Your father sneered before placing his hand on the hilt of his sword in habit.

Rhaenyra seemed to break free of the spell as she looked at you.

“No. We will not concede to the Greens, now that we are at an impasse. I will not trade my only daughter as a bartering piece for the throne.”

“It is not your choice to make.” You countered.

“I am your Queen. And you are my daughter. If you think that I would send you back there, after all that has happened.”

“This is what we had sought many years before. A way to unify the family. I had almost accepted before we went out in search of allies.”

Before Lucerys.

“I will burn our House to the ground before I let that happen.” The Rogue Prince roared, “I would sooner burn us all, than leave you to that fate. We will not use you as a means to win this war.”

“We are at a standstill. This could be a way to prevent further losses. This is an opportunity to be the tool that is needed when the hand reaches for it.”

“You are not a tool to be used in a war, nor are you a piece to be moved about a board. I refuse. We will send word to my brother, that I will have the throne, or I will have his head.” Queen Rhaenyra spoke.

“You are not listening to me.” You argued.

“No. You are not listening to me. You will not be wed to Aemond.”

“This could be a way to get into the vipers nest and turn it from the inside. This could be a way for me to-“

“No.” Jacaerys’ voice cut through the air. Baela stood stiffly at his side, whilst Rhaena stood behind with her grandparents.

Lord Bartimos however, seemed interested in what you had to say.

“Princess Y/n, what do you propose?”

Daemon swore under his breath and began to fidget beside you, as Queen Rhaenyra looked between you and the Lord who had spoken.

No other Lords at the table dared to speak.

“If I am not to be heir, then my marriage will need to be advantageous, and this is an opportunity for just that. Political and not for love. It was a fate that I could not have run from, much to both of your efforts.” You gazed at both of your parents, whose faces were stoney.

“I am no fool, do not let me be misunderstood. Aemond is cruel, but he is dutiful. I do not believe he would hurt me.”

Liar.

“The fuck is this.” Daemon growled at you.

“If I wed Aemond, in the tradition of House Targaryen, we will have something that we didn’t have before.”

“An ally in Kings Landing.” The Maester Gerardys spoke.

You nodded.

“Not only would this allow for me to be with them, to see the comes and goings of the Keep, it gives us an opportunity to turn on them when the time is right. I could send word to you all to ensure you of my safety, and reconnect to Gold Cloaks who still are loyal to the King Consort, Daemon.”

“I know who is loyal to me and who isn’t.” The Rogue Prince snipped. “I will not have you taken from me again. I will sooner fall on my sword than allow that.” His voice rising with every breath he took.

You turned your attention to the Queen, who watched you in horror.

“The treaty they have given you, was set up to make you fail. The handing of the North would raise tensions with Northerners in no time. Conflict will arise from this, and I think that was their reasoning for it. But this is an opportunity for it to work in our favour. For days I have thought of what Helaena had said to me-“

“Helaena?” You father asked, incredulously.

“She told me that if Dragon's dance, none shall survive. And I believe her. She tried to warn me of what was to come, she tried.”

Daemon scoffed, moving away from the table, pacing behind you. Your mother stood still looking at you now, the lines in her forehead pressed tightly.

“She told me this. I swear to you.” You spoke to your mother, as the men looked awkwardly about the table in confusion. “Aemond is sick. His obsession with me is twisted and grotesque, but I know that he would protect me from Aegon.”

“And who will protect you from him?” Came Jacaerys’ low growl.

You did not answer.

“This is an opportunity for us to be close to the Greens, to keep an eye on them. And when the time is right, we can strike and kill them all. You will have the throne, and take back the crown.”

“This is madness!” Daemon yelled.

“Madness yes, but it could work. You said it yourself, this could be a means to end the war. You know it. I know it. We can all see it. We are at an impasse. Although we hold the Riverlands, Aegon’s army is still spread across the realm, turncloaks are everywhere, and until we have firmer footing, this is our answer. They have ordered for my execution. If I were to go to other lands, and an ally of the Greens were there, they would have me killed. And I know what that would mean. I would be kept here for the rest for this war. And I made a promise to myself, and to My Queen that I would not."

"You gave your word to me that you would let me fight.” You stared at your mother, begging her, “Let me fight this way. I had gotten close enough to Aemond and almost killed him. I was injured, and desperate. Could you imagine what we could do when we are prepared? Rather than fight when pushed into a corner, we could take a final surge all at once.”

No-one replied to your words, and the room took steady breaths, basking in the silence.

“How many more loses can we take until we break?” Your eyes flicked to Jacaerys.

“Your Grace, if I may?” The Maester began.

Daemon roughly placed the Dark Sister blade against the table. The clunk echoed in the room.

The Maester continued, “For days now, we have sat in this stillness of war, and I fear that it may last. And if it does, our ability to hold the seas would diminish, slowly each day. As we are cut from the taxes that Kings Landing brings, your wealth alone is not enough to sustain the Velaryon fleet. In four moons time, your army would become almost obsolete, and the fleet is what we need most, to block the waterways.”

“Are you suggesting we send off my daughter like a brood mare to the very people who we are warring with? To the people who tried to kill her?” The Rogue Prince spat.

“To have an ally in the Keep, would change the course of the war to be sure, and all that comes with it. The Princess is well liked by the people, and any wrong doing would surely stir the masses. Any harm upon Lady Y/n would jeopardise the shaky foundations of Aegon’s reign."

The Maester kept his eyes on your mother as he spoke, speaking to her, and her only, "To wed Aemond, would mean that the treaty would allow us for time. Of course, Jacaerys would have to send word to the North, to let them know that they are truly independent. But having those eyes in the Keep, especially so close to the Greens, is an opportunity most advantageous.”

The air is thick with tension.

The entire chambers are silent.

All waited for the Queens response.

Daemon had paused his pacing and come to stand beside you, starring angrily at Rhaenyra who looked down at the Painted Table in thought. Eyes roaming over the markers, the realms and all that would be hers if she accepted.

“If you are to accept this, you would live out your days in Kings Landing. You would be wed to your brothers murderer, and you would be expected to perform your duties as a wife, and a Princess to the realm. Do you understand what is being asked of you, should you accept this?” Your mother asked slowly, sadly, and almost angrily.

Angry at herself, or at you, you could not tell.

“I will perform my duties as I always have. And in this, it will put us one step closer to ending the war.”

“Gaomagon daor gaomagon bisa.” (Do not do this.) Came the soft voice of Jacaerys.

It jarred you.

The young Prince rarely spoke in High Valyrian. And to hear it so raw, so broken from his lips was almost enough to turn you away from a decision you had already made.

“Gaoman bisa syt īlva.” (I do this for us.) You called across the table.

“Dōna riña, kostilus pendagon nūmāzma bisa.” (Sweet girl, please think about this.) Daemon lowered his voice.

“Eman.” (I have.)

“Ñuha tala. Ivestragon daor” (My daughter. Say no.)

“You told me back in the Red Keep, ‘By any means possible.’ This is it. Shijetra nyke, kepa.” (Forgive me, father.) You bowed your head.

You sniffed, straightening yourself before signing your fate. You swore to fulfill your duties, no matter the cost, and now was your chance.

“Accept the treaty terms. I shall wed Aemond Targaryen. I will live in the Red Keep, and when the time is right, you shall have the throne.”

A deadly pause laid the room in unease.

A singular movement. Such a small one at that. No one would ever suspect such an insignificant flex and pull of muscle to be capable of causing such chaos. But it did, and as soon as it happened, the room erupted into chaos.

Queen Rhaenyra had nodded.

King Consort Daemon had cursed.

And you had bowed.

“Thank you, Your Grace. Please excuse me.” You turned on your heel, leaving the room, as the Lords and Queen all spoke, Daemon calling after you.

“Get back here!” He yelled at you.

You let one foot step in front of the other as the reality of your actions settled into your skin.

Before long, you were out by the cliffside, sharp footsteps following behind you, as you leant your body against the stone wall, looking down into the waves as you breathed in and out.

Deeply, slowly.

“Tala.” (Daughter.)

You did not need to turn to know that your father stood behind you. A firm hand gripped your shoulder and spun you. His wild, angry eyes searching yours, before his face fell.

The Rogue Prince wordlessly pulled you against his chest and held you. You stilled in his arms and listened to the steady beat of his heart, like it was the last time you would hear it.

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

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bullet-prooflove · 1 year ago

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Punishment: Filip 'Chibs' Telford x Reader

GIF IS NOT MINE

Tagging: @corruptedcoffin @anime-weeb-4-life @redpoodlern @ravencrow83 @kishie8 @nu1freakshow @@oureternalbond @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @jtelford @the-wandering-lunatic @darqchilddaydreamz @yourwinchesterbros @lexondeck @keyweegirlie @poppyrose33 @belovedbastardremus @trublu2u @thebaileybugle @legally-a-bastard

It’s been less than a day when Chibs finds you. He knows what can happen in the space of a few hours, the damage that can caused. It drives him, it makes him relentless, ruthless, merciless. The blood he’s shed in your name should frighten him, but it doesn’t because he would do anything to have you back in his arms and away from this part of his life. You were never meant to see the violence; you were never meant to endure it.

He sees similar inclinations from his brothers. The men whose affairs you have take care of, the ones whose secrets you have kept, the ones that you have fought for.

Out of them all it’s Tig that understands the recklessness of his actions. He tells him as much when he uses pliers to tear the teeth out of that IRA bastard’s mouth, it takes three before they get the information they need. Chibs would raze this town to the fucking ground if it meant keeping you safe and Tig would help salt the earth afterwards.

It’s bad. Worse than he could have imagined. He tries to keep his shit together but when he sees the mess they’ve made of your back, it feels like he’s been eviscerated. He can’t fucking breath past the taste of copper on his tongue. His gaze strays to the bullwhip, neatly bundled up on the empty crates that used to contain their AK 47s, your blood still encrusted on the thongs of the device.

It’s Tig that cuts you down, the rope fraying away from the wooden beam of the barn as Chibs cups your face in his hands, his thumbs ghosting over the mascara that’s trailed down your cheeks. You hiss through your teeth as the rope breaks and you fall into the shelter of his chest, the remnants of your silk blouse barely preserving your dignity.

It’s the cruelty of the punishment that jars Filip, and he knows it could have only have come from Galen. He thinks the other man who would have known exactly what he was doing when he inflicted each and every lash upon your fragile skin. He’s been witness to something like this before, back in Ireland when one of the Sons over there had been caught with one of the King’s underage daughters. He knows there’s an apprehension in the agony and sometimes that’s worse than the actual affliction.

He knows that this is a personalised message, and he knows it’s meant for him. This lashing it wasn’t meant to kill you. It’s like the scars on his face, you’re meant to bare the marks for the rest of your life, to look in the mirror and know that you’re only crime was loving a man who lived on the wrong side of the law.

He wants the cunt dead; he wants everyone who participated in your torture fucking dead. He wants to burn every single one of those fuckers alive and hear their screams echo into the night. You whimper and he cradles you to his chest, his cheek pressed against the top of your head as he whispers the tenderest words into your hair. Your fist grips the leather of his kutte, the strength of your grasp surprises him as he bows his head so that he can hear the words you whisper in his ear.

“Make him fucking bleed.”

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aika-starlight · 6 months ago

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꒰ :🥀'':🍓"♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ: ℐ𝓉 𝒽𝒶𝓈 𝒶𝓁𝓌𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝒷ℯℯ𝓃 𝓎ℴ𝓊↷ ⋯

🍒*. : ｡✿ * ﾟ * .: ｡ ✿ * ﾟ * . : ｡ ✿ * *. : ｡✿ * ﾟ * .: ｡ ✿ * ﾟ * . : ｡ ✿ *🍒

｡ₓ ू ˚🥀- Preview: It was always you... You were the only one, the only one I loved and still love. But... Suddenly you were gone, you disappeared so quickly... It seems like you forgot me...

1:35 ───ㅇ───── 3:47

.・゜-: ✧ :-　🎀　-: ✧ :-゜・．🎀 .・゜-: ✧ :-　🎀　-: ✧ :-゜・．

₍₍...₎₎❗ 🍁꒰ ❛ 16+ ❜ ꒱

*'•'‹🥀›Modern au

*'•'‹🍬› rocker! yuuji x reader

*'•'‹🥀›Some mentions of Itafushi

*'•'‹🌷› Everyone is of age in the story

ﾟ+*:ꔫ:*﹤　🌹　﹥*:ꔫ:*+ﾟ

°•⟩Reader is a girl.

°•⟩ This chapter will contain: Bullying, abusive parents, swearing, feelings of abandonment.

°•⟩English is not my first language, so sorry if some parts don't make sense.

˚ ༘✶ ⋆˚🫧𝟎𝟏˚ ༘✶ ⋆ ˚

🥀› I love Yuuji Itadori, my first love and my only one to this day...

I remember so clearly the first time I laid eyes on him. It was summer, I had just moved to the neighborhood, my mother told me to have fun in a nearby park since I wasn't helping at all.

When I arrived at the park, my eyes immediately lit up, so many cool toys, kids running around and having fun. It was my dream since almost no children lived in my old neighborhood, it was so boring to live there and my parents didn't improve the experience at all.

But this happy atmosphere ended very quickly... The older children who called themselves "owners of the park" didn't like me, they called me a snobby rich girl. My cute stuffed bunny was completely covered in mud, the girls were pulling my hair while the boys were kicking my shins. It was horrible, I don't even know how long I was stabbed.

Magically, I didn't feel anything anymore, but it was because of him, he kicked those bullies in the ass, the vision I had of him that day was magical... I was so embarrassed, my insides bubbled and my face immediately heated up.

I gently took his hand while I thanked him and he just smiled and complimented my dress that was filled with strawberries, he said he loved strawberries and that he liked me for that, for liking me too...

I remember that I spent the whole afternoon playing with him, it was the most incredible afternoon of my life, I was so happy that I didn't even care about my mother's unnecessary scolding and to top it off I talked about him throughout dinner.

After that, Yuuji became one of my favorite people... We were inseparable, everything he did, I did.

We went to the same elementary school and honestly that made me lose my fear of school, because I knew that with Yuuji by my side I didn't need to be afraid of anything, he would protect me.

At my 6th birthday party, Yuuji was the only one who attended, he told me that we didn't need anyone else since we had better fun alone. I knew he didn't want me to be upset, but deep down, it was true.

And Yuuji didn't lie, we had a lot of fun alone.

In elementary school I realized that I loved Yuuji, more than a friend, it was something romantic... That's when I started making lunches for him, his parents were working a lot lately so it ended up that Yuuji ran out of snacks and the school food didn't work. It was one of the best, as I had always made my own meals since I was little, I didn't see any problem with doubling the quantity.

The first time I handed Yuuji the lunch box, with the cloth decorated with stars and the rice in the shape of a cute rabbit, I saw his cheeks turn red and his eyes sparkled, he smiled widely and gave me a big hug. .

As we were eating, I realized I wanted to see him look like this more often.

Yuuji was excited on his own, but this time it seemed so different... I never knew why...

Once Yuuji invited me to his house to play with the hose, I went, how could I not go?

All I know is that it was incredible, Yuuji's family was a thousand times cooler than mine, they let us have fun.

Yuuji's father was calm and sometimes even joined us in light games, Yuuji's mother was affectionate, she made lots of delicious sweets when I went there and there were also his brothers, Sukuna, 16 years old, he was very grumpy. and angry (Yuuji said he was like his grandfather), he was never at home when I visited Yuuji and there was Choso, his 15 year old brother, he was already cooler than Sukuna, but he liked to stay in his room. But sometimes Yuuji and I would go in just to listen to him play his guitar.

On that hose bath day, I remember Yuuji said he would marry me, because I was his best friend and we should be together forever. After that I couldn't sleep for happiness.

Yes! I would marry Yuuji.

Or maybe not...

One day Yuuji simply didn't come to class, which was very strange since he always warned me by calling me on my home phone. And I didn't get any that morning...

When leaving school I chose to go to Yuuji's house before going to my...

But it was so empty and no one answered the door.

A tall woman came up to me and asked if I was lost, I replied saying that she was waiting for my friend.

She just replied "Oh..."

I didn't understand why it sounded so sad...

She told me that the Itadori family was not living but in the house, it seems that Yuuji's grandfather was very sick and the family was looking for treatment outside of Sendai, as it didn't exist here... A week ago they had gotten a treatment in Tokyo and a place to stay too, it turned out that today they definitely moved there.

I was so scared, my best friend is gone, I'm going to go back to being a girl alone again...

I only know that that day I ran home and locked myself in my room...

When I calmed down and went out to dinner, my mother told me that Yuuji had stopped by before he moved and had left his mother's phone number so that we could continue to keep in touch.

I was happy.

As I didn't have a phone, I used my mother's, with a lot of effort she gave in, when I heard Yuuji's voice I felt relieved. And the feeling of loneliness soon went away.

Whenever I left school he would call me, he would tell me everything about his new school and I would tell him about how mine was, we talked for about 3 hours a day, if my mother didn't stop me it would be more than that.

But one day he stopped calling me, that one day turned into a week, which turned into 4, which at the end of the conversation turned into 2 months without calling me.

I called, but no one answered...

It was from that moment on that our only means of contact ended...

Spending the rest of elementary school without Yuuji was horrible, I wondered if he had already found new people to replace me, or if he even missed me... I was without friends. There were some girls who exchanged a few words with me, but it wasn't enough to be considered friends.

At the end of elementary school and the beginning of high school, I received a phone as a gift.

The first thing I did was install social networks to try to find Yuuji.

I searched everywhere for his name... But I couldn't find it... One of those guys was him...

I kept thinking that maybe he didn't have a cell phone, but his parents were so liberal that it's quite possible he's had one for a long time.

When high school started I accepted that I lost Yuuji forever and that I would never see him again. Sometimes we just weren't meant to be together...

I just know that every year of my high school was shit, I ended up changing schools.

And for some reason the bullying returned, it was that trio type, where there is the leader who has god syndrome and the two servants who are only with the leader because she is "popular".

I think that all the offensive shit that exists I have already heard while living with it.

I begged to change schools, but my father said I'm just being cool and I can't handle "normal" teenage games, in the end I ended up becoming the stranger in the story.

The least my father did for me was put me in therapy, I think I'm only alive because of that, at a certain point in the first year of high school I was diagnosed with depression, it seems like since Yuuji left all the shit impossible to happen were happening.

I underwent treatment for depression and after two years I was finally cured... The anxiety still remained with me, it is no longer a big problem.

I decided to send my CV to colleges in Tokyo, Yokohama and Osaka, to study visual arts, thanks to the support of my psychologist.

My parents were against it, but I didn't care, I'm already of legal age.

I was surprised when I went to a college in Tokyo, it's called jujutsu, it's a very well-regarded college in Tokyo, it's one of the best.

Well, at least I'll start over...

I packed everything I had and went to Tokyo.

My classes start in 5 days, but I'm going to pack my things in the dorm first, college dorms are shared with one other person.

I was looking forward to meeting my roommate...

After a 2 hour flight I landed in Tokyo, unloaded my bags and took a taxi to college. The path was peaceful, I spent the entire trip looking at the Tokyo landscape wishing I had my camera in my hand to take photos.

In the middle of my treatment, my psychologist thought it would be a good idea for me to start photographing things, this ended up becoming a hobby.

When I arrived at college, I talked to the people in charge of the dorms, made an ID card and got my keys.

After a leisurely walk, I arrive at the door of my dorm and stop. I look at the door with butterflies in my stomach and start to unlock it.

The door opens and I start to look around, it's a simple but comfortable dorm, when I look around the room I see suitcases thrown on the living room floor, it's likely that my roommate is already here, I can feel the butterflies in my stomach again .

I walk a little around the living room and see that it is divided with the kitchen, the kitchen is simple and only has what is necessary, when I look in the left corner I see a hallway. Where there was access to two doors, that's where the bedrooms are, my roommate is probably already in his.

I go to the hallway and walk towards the left door, when I open the door the first thing I see is a woman and a man kissing. But it wasn't a simple kiss, it was making out, they noticed my presence since for some reason the door made a point of making a lot of noise, I feel my face heat up and I start to scream for forgiveness. I quickly close the door, still red, I feel like tears might come out of embarrassment.

Shit... I ruined someone's fuck.

I thought, what a great first impression to give your roommate, I run into the next room and lock the door in embarrassment.

How am I going to get out of here now?... I would like to stick my face in the ground.

After about 15 minutes I calmed down, I had already organized some things in my room, so I decided to go out to get a glass of water in the kitchen.

When I arrive in the room I see the two of them, they look at me and I look back at them, then the girl stands up and extends her hand to me. "A pleasure! I'm Kirara Hoshi, your roommate. I'm sorry about the scene you saw a while ago..." She rubs her neck nervously. "I thought this year I would be without one." I smile and take her hand. "No problem! My name is (Name) (last name), nice to meet you.”

She smiles widely. "I like you (nickname)! You're cute." She puts her arm around my neck and points to the man sitting there smiling. "This is Kin, Kinji Hakari, my boyfriend." He gives a small wave. "Nice to meet you." I say giving a wave of my hand.

Hakari and Kirara were cool, besides being stylish, Kirara was so beautiful that she felt a little envious. But we quickly hit it off, I was so happy about that, as our first impressions weren't that great.

Spending the last 5 days together, I learned a lot about her, she is studying performing arts and Hakari was studying financial management, but he had already finished some time ago, Kirara was in her final year.

I've never had so much fun for 5 days...

They went by so quickly that when I realized the next day my classes would already start.

I slowly open my eyes and realize that it's morning, I get up, still unconscious and go to the kitchen to get something to eat.

When I open the cupboard, the first thing I see is Kirara's cereal, she wouldn't mind if I got some...

I grab the bowl closest to me and pour in some of the cereal, adding milk right after. Soon after, I sit down and enjoy this food.

I look at the meal and think how childish this breakfast was, I accidentally ended up feeling nostalgic for my childhood.

I finish in a few minutes and then go get ready, in the bathroom I take a relaxing shower, then I brush my teeth, use my hairdryer and try to make my hair visually beautiful. I dress in a long-sleeved white blouse, with two buttons on the front to cover a little more cleavage, to match I wear a gray skirt that is a little voluminous, I put on beautiful white socks and to complement it I wear doll shoes.

I grab my bag with some jellyfish details and stars and head towards the door to leave.

When I enter college, I find the hallway full of people, it makes me nervous.

I could see people of all styles, and it always seems like everyone hangs out with their own little group, something I particularly hated.

It was a pain to go through them and it was even more annoying trying to find the room for my first class.

I arrived at my class early and got a comfortable seat, as the class hadn't started yet, I started doodling in my sketchbook. It was a very simple drawing of a whale.

When I start to paint with watercolors I hear someone praising my drawing, the voice came from my right, right in the empty space next to me. Scared, I look to the side and see a boy with black hair next to me, he had several piercings, in his ears, nose, mouth and cheek. His clothes had a style that gave off a rocker vibe, it was beautiful. His eyes were dark blue with incredibly large eyelashes, it was to be envied.

"Your painting of him matches your line very well..." He said pointing to the drawing.

I feel slightly embarrassed by the compliment, I'm not used to this kind of thing. "Thank you... It was a very quick drawing that I made..." I say smiling, a silence falls between us, so I ask. "Do you also draw?" And he shakes his head gently.

"Want to see them?" He says looking at me waiting for some kind of answer, I shake my head softly and move closer to him to see drawings of him.

He then takes a folder from his bag and opens it.

Even though his style is a little gothic, his drawings are so soft and beautiful, the colors were bright but at the same time soft. His drawings brought a strange sense of peace...

He had almost every class with me, so we spent a lot of time together. I later found out that his name was Megumi Fushiguro, but he preferred that I call him by his first name, Megumi.

Megumi had invited me to join him and his friends at lunch, I accepted.

I'm happy that things are different in Tokyo, but I still think that if Yuuji was here things would be a thousand times better... I remember our dream of living together, we had several dreams... Silly, childish dreams, but... It was so good to dream.

When classes ended, we went straight to the cafeteria. Megumi took me to an isolated table, according to him, he and his friends sat there.

Megumi had gone out to get food for us, I gave him money to pay my share, but he refused and said he would pay for both of us since he invited me to lunch. He had also told me that his friends would arrive soon, they didn't arrive.

So when Megumi came back he had a confused look, but he didn't care much. I asked why his friends didn't come and he just shook his shoulders and said "They must be up to something, I'd rather stay out." When he said that, I gave a simple laugh.

Lunch was fun, even though it may not seem like it, it was easy to talk to Megumi. After we finished eating, I thanked him for lunch and said goodbye, we wouldn't see each other again, since we had different classes. From what he told me, he seems to be studying two different courses, one visual arts and the other was Music.

He also told me that he and his friends had a metal band, which I thought was great, he noticed that I was enchanted and invited me to watch their rehearsal today after classes at the gym, I happily accepted, he asked me to I met him in the main hallway and he was going to take me to the gym.

After that we said goodbye.

After classes ended, I felt butterflies in my stomach... I was waiting for Megumi in the place he and I had agreed on.

He was late and after standing still for a long time reflecting, I realized that it would be a very annoying situation, since Megumi invited me without even contacting her friends... What if they don't like my presence?

I don't even want to imagine... Fortunately, Megumi arrives to stop any more negative thoughts.

We had a calm walk to the gym, when we were 3 meters away I could hear the sounds of the guitar and drums, it sounded insane.

Entering the gym I could see Megumi's friends playing, on the drums was a white-haired boy with purple eyes and some kind of tattoo near his lips. On the keyboard was a boy with black hair, his eyes were dark and deep, he had dark circles under his eyes showing that he had spent a few nights without sleeping. The female voice I heard was that of a girl, her hair was beautiful, red and silky, she had dark makeup on, her brown eyes shone as she released her beautiful voice. And along with the girl I hear a male voice, a boy with pink and brown hair... Just like Yuuji... My eyes become melancholic with the memory, the boy looked like him, even though he also wore a certain type of makeup... It was just like Yuuji, the pink-haired boy was rocking the guitar and giving him goosebumps.

It was then that with the sound of the gym door closing everyone looked towards me and Megumi. A girl with green hair and glasses walks towards us irritably, I can even hear the curses that haven't even been uttered yet.

"Megumi! Where were you? Why didn't you go to the cafeteria?!"

Said the girl irritated. Confused Megumi tilts her head.

"What coffee shop?" The girl sighs and looks irritated again. "The new cafeteria near the college, Yuta sent a message saying that we were going to have lunch there today." Megumi just looks at her and says that this Yuta guy hadn't warned her anything. The girl turns irritably to the black-haired boy, but immediately returns to Megumi.

"Why didn't you call us then?"

As she says this, the two vocalists approach, one of them being the boy who looks like Yuuji. They stand next to the green-haired girl. "I was with (Name), I ended up forgetting to call, sorry Maki..." He lied, he just didn't want to go out to look for them.

"Who the hell is (Name)?" He said the girl with red hair.

I raise my hand lightly "I'm (Name), nice to meet you..." I'm nervous, I'm very nervous...

"I met (Name) in the visual arts course..." The boy who looked like Yuuji seemed to examine me from top to bottom as he approached a little closer.

"I'm Yuuji Itadori, nice to meet you!" They extend their hand smiling.

"Yuuji?..." My body freezes, I can't move... My eyes widen in surprise, my vision becomes blurred. Impossible, it can't be him... He's so different, but the smile... It's still the same, warm and bright.

Does he remember me?... I feel tears coming down. And I see him get worried and whisper to the girl next to him.

"Do you remember me Yuuji?..."

I say looking at him smiling slightly, but he still doesn't seem to remember.

"(Name) (Surname)... It's me Yuuji and (Name)!"

His eyes widen in surprise, a smile growing on his face as he quickly grabs me.

"(Name)... How long..." He hugs me tightly and smells my hair.

Next chapter>

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redemptionrehab · 5 months ago

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Triple A INC.

Angel, Alastor and Ace! Finally made this look the way I wanted it to!!! It was a pain but so worth it.

All of them have their canon personalities, the Only big difference personality wise is that angel and Husk are in a relationship now and Alastor was the one who pitched the partnership in the first place.

Alastor

Alastor was the first to die, but was the last of the three to build his reputation in Hell. The reason it took him so long to rise to power is a mystery, especially since when he did it was almost overnight. Once he gained the limit of his power he want to the home of Hell's most notorious gambler, however when he won he didn't want the gambling demon's soul, he wanted his partnership. Husk was not hesitant to agree, and not just because he was forced to, infact he was interested in seeing how the partnership went. However, Alastor had no idea he was not aware that Angel would be part of the deal and due to him accidentally tying himself to the Gambler he was unable to break out of the deal.

The only real change in Alastor's design is his color scheme, which matches the original character in zoophobia, and his shoes which were changed back to his boots.

Angel

This spider mobster was the original member, first to gain power down in Hell. He did in '47 and became an official overlord in sep. of '49. Angel takes no nonsense but gives a lot. He met Husk at the gamblers first overlord meeting and they immediately hit it off. Angel proceeded to visit Husk's casino frequently and even aided in advertising it. Angel also took to weapons manufacturing sometime in the mid 60's and quickly became tough competition with Carmila, who eventually had to file for bankruptcy when her sales dropped in the 90's. After Carmila's company tanked and she and her daughters were left on a tight budget, Angel's conscience took over, especially since Carmila was such a roll model to him. He decided to pay for their home and food, with the condition that he gets to visit every now and again. (He likes to gossip with Clara).

Angel's design matches his original with his color scheme changed to match his current one! I really liked his little hat

Ace

Husker, more professionally known as Ace, was the last of the three to enter Hell and the second to gain power. As stated above Alastor was the one who wanted to join him and Husk purposefully lost the game in order to go through with the deal. He couldn't let demons think he kept associating with other overlords via his own will, obviously Angel is obsessed with him and wont leave no matter what, he obviously doesn't like him back. Is what he would say if he was a LIAR. At one point in time, Husk finds a young demoness stranded out on the streets, picking pockets for anything she can get. Husker sees potential in her and takes her back to the Casino to show the others. In the end, the girl bonds with Alastor.

His design is meant to look like a more aged up version of his younger self, a little more scruffy.

#Triple A inc.#alastor #alastor the radio demon #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #angel dust #huskerdust #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin husk #husker hazbin hotel #hazbin husker #husker x angel dust #angel dust x husk #angel dust hazbin hotel #hazbin angel dust #hazbin anthony

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rocketturtle4 · 1 year ago

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Only Friends, Shipping Culture, Cross-Generational Differences, Themes and Endgame

Strap in, folks. This is a long one.

What finally pushed me to make this post was a very interesting discourse between @lurkingshan, @waitmyturtles, and @twig-tea here around the way this show has subverted norms to a lesser extent than first hoped and how the fans themselves, and the creator’s interactions with these fans, have impacted the creation and completion of the show, as well as the way themes built through the series may now feel less clear after the latest episode.

I wanted to offer my understanding and perspective because it differs somewhat, but it is also very much informed by this post and the larger Tumblr discourse around Only Friends and shipping culture that this show has sparked. I will note, for the record, that I have been much busier since about episode 5 of OF than I had been for the first episodes (or than I was for BMF), so I have missed a lot more of the fascinating discourse that this show has sparked than I would wish.

Let’s do this.

Shipping Culture

I had never heard of this before joining Tumblr this year (in May) despite watching 50 BLs before that, due to being completely disengaged from the actors as individuals prior to joining Tumblr, and while Tumblr has opened my eyes to how much fanservice is part of these people’s lives and jobs and the problems surrounding that phenomenon. I remain largely disengaged from the actors personally. I do not have Twitter, Tik Tok or Instagram, I rarely watch BTS and even my revelation that First is the most beautiful man ever to exist (and I say that as a person who is both aro and ace) has only got me to watch one First & Khao Armshare interview (The Eclipse one). I have also never purchased merch or event tickets so I am in fact, not a good fan in terms of profit making or engagement.

I do, however, love the shows an awful lot and may engage with BTS more once I have fewer things to watch…

All this to say is that my firsthand knowledge of such things is limited at best, but I am still here to say:

I think Only Friends is doing excellent things here, even if all the ‘couples’ end up together.

Is it burning them to the ground like so many hoped? No, but I have watched 47 Thai BLs at this stage and not many of them explored relationships beyond the pairs in any way, shape or form, and OF HAS DONE THAT.

Of our main six characters, NONE of them have only kissed their “other half.” They’ve literally all at least made out with one other person from the core six, and thus far Mew, Boston and Nick have ALSO kissed other people.

This is, in my humble opinion, A PRETTY BIG DEAL.

I am currently watching Not Me (for the first time, haven’t finished, no spoilers please), and I have been informed somewhat reliably that the original novel included a Gram/Black plotline that was cut/altered (to Gram/Eugene/Black love triangle), and I posit that was due in part because they couldn’t have Gun even KISSING Mond even if he was also kissing Off. Black and White would have been a great way to shift things even a little by having the branded pair be together while ALSO having half the brand with someone else at the SAME TIME. Can you imagine??

And yet as recently as 2021 that didn’t happen.

Sometimes change takes time and patience and I think OF is doing really good work, even if it doesn’t go as far as we might wish.

EVEN IF all our branded pairs end up together unsubverted (which is not what I am hoping for but EVEN IF), this show will have still begun paving the way for more varied storylines and pairings in shows

The Clash of Generational Lenses

Speaking of the end game, lets talk about a little thing called hope.

I had a very interesting discourse back around, hmmm episode 6, with @shouldiusemyname and @plantsarepeopletoo , about the sheer confusion I felt about Tumblr’s idea that every one of these characters should end up apart simply because they’d done bad things or something? (this is extremely generalized. I was missing a lot of nuance from both Tumblr and my own lens hence the unpacking then and now).

Now I went into this show fully prepared for this to end sadly and I largely viewed this expectation of sad as everyone ending up broken up and alone. I don’t normally watch sad by choice, but I was willing to try this one because Jojo’s stories are SO beautifully compelling that I knew it would be worth the journey. I have watched Love of Siam (not Jojo but sad) and Gay Okay Bangkok (complicated), two very different shows reflective of their times and their creators and from the beginning, Only Friends did not feel like those (although the links to Gay Okay Bangkok and the exploration of real queer relationships has been fascinating and I am very glad I watched that one before OF).

So why was there this, almost prescribed hopelessness, being projected onto these very young characters who were just in the process of finding themselves? Why were these young people’s flaws and choices so linked to the idea that they would end up alone?

Now @shouldiusemyname told me the following (in the context of a much wider discourse):

Ahhh I like this cos this is something I take very much for granted and I think it’s a generational gap thing. This is a reaction to the way we were brought up (again generalizing cos sometimes it’s necessary). There was no alternative to monogamy and being queer meant that you can’t have that for 2 reasons: 1. Law doesn’t allow 2. Socially unacceptable cos being gay was seen as what kind of sex you were having as opposed to relationships. If you don’t have the gay sex, you’re not gay. This is also the reason for being anti het norm. We couldn’t have that so we needed to find the alternative and have ALL of it.

We were both generalizing A LOT, but this idea was MIND BLOWING to me at the time.

(For the record I am born late 1990s, Shouldiusemyname is born early 1980s (and Plantsarepeopletoo is born late 80s so we have variety covered lol!))

Because while, (as @waitmyturtles for example has pointed out on multiple occasions) the imposition of purity culture and monogamy on queer culture (and in general) is wrong, the idea that no queer people are desiring commitment or monogamy is also wrong. (I am not here suggesting that even in an ideal world where queer people TRULY HAD equal rights they would magically all want monogamous long-term relationships because that’s just not true. In addition hets regularly oppose the het norm as well, long-term monogamous relationships are unwanted by many of them).

I come from a strong biological background (which unequivocally supports more than two sexes and more than two genders, do not come back here and make this about that, got it!) and am currently doing a PhD in Palaeontology so a lot of my relationship understanding is informed by a wider understanding of breeding, monogamy and nonmonogamy in reproduction across the animal and plant kingdoms just by exposure (and yes reproduction in the plant kingdom is very much included, some plants have both male and female parts, it’s fascinating!). And monogamy is present in a hugely wide range of species, it’s not soley something humans came up with just because of religious norms. Addtionally, there is the development of consistent monogamous and/or committed polygamous relationships (historically, most commonly men with multiple wives) across a huge number of cultures throughout history largely for the fostering of children. Most of this influence has been more irrelevant for the queer community because of their inability to produce children in monogamous pairs*, and children are a huge sticking point for the NEED for long-term stable relationships. So, without this sticking point (combined with the aforementioned factors around law and discrimination), relationships are viewed as less permanent. Thus, I had to unpack my own casual assumptions that relationships normally have a long-term goal. (*Generalizing hugely, obviously there are lots of variations that can produce biological children without assistance, but these points most strongly apply to same-sex relationships)

For example, I find the way this plays out in a show like What Did You Eat Yesterday particularly fascinating, and have realized since starting Season 2 that I had missed a lot of this subtext in the first season because, to me, the idea that the central couple would stay and grow old together was a given. PARTLY because of monogamous cultural lenses, but ALSO because they loved each other and wanted to be together, so why wouldn’t they assume they would stay and grow old together?

I also realized that I am further sheltered in this mindset by not just my age but by the acceptance of my wider family of non-marriage as a concept (or even just not having to have children) as normal and okay. My Grandfather (in his 80s) is one of 10 children and has multiple siblings (my great uncles/aunts) who 1 never married or 2 married but chose never to have children. While I am not going to pretend that my uncles/aunts were never judged for such things, that judgment was NEVER part of my upbringing and we visited my single and/or childless great-uncles just as often as those with children.

I seem to have gotten sidetracked…What is the wider point I am making here?

Ah yes

Only Friends is so interesting because it’s shot like it’s set in the 80s & 90s, before the turn of the millennia, with so much homage paid to the queer stories and reality that the youth of this time grew up with. But the generational change that the last two decades or so have brought is inarguably huge, and so these characters, all born after the turn of the century, are not truly from the world that, in some ways, it looks like they’ve been placed into. @wen-kexing-apologist did an extremely comprehensive post about gay cruising culture and Boston that was extremely relevant to his character and the story being told, but it also was a specific throwback to something that is different in the 2020s. Not because people like Boston don’t exist, but because the turn of the century brought with it so many things that make this exact thing more complicated.

And OF has been showing us why! Surveillance, SO MUCH surveillance, every character has been recorded or recorded other characters or shared recordings of other characters, sometimes all of the above, and this surveillance does have a deep impact on the relationships today’s young people engage in! Not just the queer community but all young people of today are under near constant scrutiny and surveillance, and the young people born in the last couple decades have grown up like this, queer or not.

One last thing to mention here is the specific, observable, phenomenon that has been going on in Thailand, it is clear when you look at media like Love of Siam (2008) and compare it to ITSAY (2020) (which I haven’t even seen yet gah but I still know this is a great example). The phenomenon of BL, for all its flaws, has wrought change in the psyche and culture of the people of Thailand, ESPECIALLY the young people, and this is absolutely informing our six main characters views on relationships because they would have gone through high school with this as a major part of their culture.

Themes and Endgame: I Think Hope is the Point

All this draws me back into how I think OF will end, because it’s been at the heart of the show throughout, and that is hopefully, Only Friends will end hopefully.

Jojo has (I believe) stated outright that his primary goal for this show was to represent his community in truth, the messy non-het non-monogamy of queer youths in their 20s has been playing out across our screens, but the thing that has been keeping my attention riveted on Only Friends is the heart of it all.

The journeys of growth and discovery on this show have been magnificent. @thegalwhorants has been pointing out the intentional parallels of language this show has been using to highlight some of that growth, and that is just one very interesting fraction of the way this show has used words, music (@plantsarepeopletoo), colours, styles and more to represent the transformation characters are going through as they grow into themselves before our eyes.

A few very brief examples:

Mew’s switch to wearing Ray’s wardrobe when he is trying not to care but cares so much about Top.

Ray’s changed wardrobe to match the style Sand picked out for him even as he tried to choose Mew and couldn’t, because he’s already moved on, even when he couldn’t accept it.

Nick’s whole makeover to catch Boston’s attention later even catching Dan’s attention and the way that in that scene with Boston outside in ep10, Nick had returned to his shorts and t-shirt because he finally felt seen the way he sees Boston.

One’s sense of self is often built in part, around their relationships (family, friends, sexual and romantic), ESPECIALLY in collectivist cultures, and so much of our 20s involves growing and learning who you are through these relationships. I have seen arguing about toxic friendship groups and how they all need to just let each other go, and maybe that is the best endgame, I don’t know. Sometimes, growing together can be so much stronger, and sometimes, growing apart is the only way to move forward.

But these last two eps in particular (but honestly every moment of this show) have left me with the feeling that hope is the point. Because things HAVE changed, the world is moving and the things possible in 2023 are often utterly unthinkable to the youth of the 1980s, 1990s and before. The world is growing, acceptance and love have always been there but, surveillance or no, it’s so much easier to find now.

To be queer is no longer to be isolated, not in the way it once was, it is not a sentence of aloneness. Nor a stamp of irrevocable pain. Are things good now? HECK NO, you look at any statistic: homelessness, mental health, suicide rate, poverty; Being queer makes your life harder.

No matter how hard you try things might get worse and while that’s true for all people, queerness compounds that and often makes the consequences of your choices harder through isolation.

But the isolation is less now and I think OF wants to show that

You may do many things and sometimes these things will hurt no matter how careful you are, Not caring isn’t the point, Not feeling isn’t the point, God every character on this show feels so MUCH

This episode had moments of complete heartbreak

Complete regret

And complete Joy

And there is much more still to come

So when I think about endgame, I think about hope, and the lessening of isolation for all, and this does not mean 3 perfectly happy couples in perfect monogamous relationships wrapped up with a neat little bow, It means six individuals who have learned and grown through friendship and love, this may mean healed relationships, it may not, this may mean healed friendships, it may not. (It may mean Top, Mew and Boeing in a throuple but maybe I’m the only one hoping for that lol). We’ve clearly got more drama and pain to come but I am confident now that things will end with hope.

I do not know how Jojo and co will show that, but I trust them, and I can’t wait to find out.

#ofts #only friends the series #only friends #onlyft #rturts is wondering #only friends meta #ofts meta #roc goes haywire over only friends

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