#I literally JUST had this conversation too
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twenty-qs · 2 days ago
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You know, one of my favorite under-the-radar interactions in Arcane is actually between Jayce and Vi.
On paper they have…literally nothing in common. One’s the golden boy science nerd, plastered all over Piltover as the symbol of progress, who has actively made decisions on the Council that made life in Zaun worse. One’s a bruiser who cut her teeth on the streets of Zaun, and then prison, as Piltover did its very best to forget she ever existed. They’ve had maybe, like, one actual conversation, in which Vi called him ‘pretty boy’ and Jayce looked deeply uncomfortable. But against all odds—they get along like a house on fire. I think Jayce is the only one Vi would have accepted weapons made of Hextech from; and I think Vi (and Caitlyn, but Vi came first) was the only person other than himself that Jayce would have made Hextech weapons for. They’re so in sync that they literally coordinate battle moves on the fly without needing to exchange a word. It might strike you as weird, at first. It’s just so improbable.
But it makes sense. Because the way they make decisions is almost the same—emotion. Impulse. Punch first, think later. Do what you think is right, and don’t wait for the world to give you permission, because it never will. They trust their gut and make snap decisions. And because the world of Arcane is morally gray, they usually regret it.
Which makes me think that some of the strongest parallels in this new season might actually be between Vi and Jayce. Arcane is about change. The price of change; the promises and dangers of change; and how people change, too. Vi and Jayce have been relatively stable character-wise. They change their minds about things, circumstances around them change, but at least at the end of s2e3, they’re still very recognizably themselves. Still punch first, think later. But the people around them have been undergoing extreme transformations.
Powder is now Jinx. Vi spent the entire first season refusing to see this, then failing to understand this. At the start of season 2, she still can’t reconcile the two in her mind—she can only conceive of them as literally two different people. Powder is dead. (I killed her.) All that’s left is Jinx. (I created her.) But the truth is that Jinx is still her little sister, is still the girl who was once Powder. Powder didn’t die—she changed.
Meanwhile, Caitlyn in season 2 is having a cataclysmic change because of her trauma and grief. The Caitlyn Vi fell in love with was brave, precise, determined—and fundamentally kind. She traded her gun away for medicine to save Vi’s life. She didn’t even hesitate. But now, all of that laser focus is being bent on revenge. Caitlyn has become increasingly single-minded, narrow-viewed, her world reduced to the target in her sniper’s scope. If you’re an obstacle, she’ll simply shoot right through you. She promised Vi she wouldn’t change, and then she hit Vi and abandoned her the moment Vi got in the way. Season 1 Caitlyn would never do that.
Vi struggles with change. She never seems to quite—grasp it. Doesn’t understand how the Undercity has changed while she was locked up, stagnant, an insect trapped in amber. She loves people with a sort of nostalgic glow. What the show forces Vi to reckon with is how far she’s willing to love someone before they’ve changed too much. She thinks it’s over with Jinx. She says she doesn’t consider Jinx as her sister anymore. But they are, they’re still sisters, of course they are. Jinx knows this. Jinx loves her sister, even now. Which means there might still be something in her for Vi to love too. But with Caitlyn, is there anything left of the kind girl who gave Vi her freedom and treated her with compassion? Can Vi still love the dictator literally waging war against her people? Should she? (Could she even stop loving Caitlyn if she wanted to?)
Jayce’s arc is just beginning in season 2, so I’m not sure which direction he’s heading in. But the parallels are already showing up. Is Viktor still in there, or is he dead? (Did I kill him?) Is it just the Hexcore using his body now, a monster that must be stopped? (Did I create him?) Jayce, too, might soon be forced to decide if he can still love someone who’s changed past the point of recognition. Or whether he should.
All this is to say that I hope we get more Vi and Jayce interactions this season. And that it’s definitely not a coincidence that we got two divorces back to back.
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brattyspence · 2 days ago
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virginia is for lovers | s.reid
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summary: model!reader accidentally exposes their relationship through a soft launch instagram post
tags: model!reader x spencer, penelope included <3, smau
a/n: this is kinda short n pointless but i wanted a reason to write reader tweeting abt spencer and its been in my drafts for weeks so
word count: 1.1k
masterlist
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Spencer had worked hard to keep you a secret. 
Not because he wasn’t thrilled to be in your life, because he really, really was. Historically, things had a tendency to go south as soon as word got out, especially when it came to his personal life. 
You had met in a bookstore. It was a short interaction; you were busy debating which translation of The Stranger was most appropriate to read. You must have been standing in the aisle of the bookstore a little too long, holding two copies side by side, when he had offered his two cents on the matter.
Typically, you weren’t one to entertain conversation in public. Nine times out of ten, you’d get one word in before the inevitable “Please can I take a picture? I love your blog so much!”, but this was different. You weren’t even sure he had even seen your face before he started talking to you. He wasn’t initially trying to hit on you, either. He was genuinely excited that someone was willing to listen to him ramble about the differences between the Ward and Guilbert translations, so when you responded in such a way that asked him to continue on, he was surprised. 
That day, you’d left the store with four more books than intended, and a single bookmark where he had written his phone number after you asked for it.  He had asked you for your name; a confirmation that he actually had no idea who you were. 
The rest was history. You saw him whenever possible, spent nights on the phone together, and flew across the country often just to see him. You loved having a relationship that didn’t need to be public, but you were also excited to share bits of it with the world.
It was late at night, and he was sitting at his desk in the bullpen, trying to finish the last of the paperwork he’d been assigned, when he heard commotion from Penelope’s office. He figured it was nothing new; probably just some news about the royal family or one of the real housewives again, but she’d thrown her door open in such a way that it garnered attention from everyone in the office.
“Spencer Reid,” She gripped her phone and rushed across the room with determination. “Do you have something you want to share with me?”
He looked up from his paperwork, furrowing his eyebrows. “What are you talking about?”
“Why are you on my Instagram feed?” She placed her phone on his desk in front of him. 
“I’m not on instagram,” he replied. 
“Oh, but you are,” she said. “You are such a little liar. I can’t wait to tell Derek about this.”
She pushed his paperwork aside, plopping her phone down in front of him. It was a slideshow on instagram. A photo of the most recent bouquet he bought for you. A few from the museum you’d visited together, including several where his hands or shoes were visible, but nothing that really pointed to him. He could almost make the argument Penelope was mistaken, until the last photo, which included just enough of his apartment to confirm her questioning.
“You said you were seeing someone and I thought… someone from a chess tournament, or maybe… oh, I don't know. Literally anyone else? But you bagged a model?” 
“I-” he sighed. “How did you find her?”
“I didn’t find her, Spencer. I’ve followed her for years! I see her posts all the time. I can’t believe you.”
He scrolled down.
liked by @jjareau and others
@yourusername: virginia is for lovers :)                                              posted 12 hours ago
↪ @randomuser1: GIRL STOP TEASING WHO IS HE
↪ @randomuser3: i’ve been trying to figure it out since that tweet last month 😞
↪ @randomuser2: this is the sweetest soft launch i’ve ever seen <3
↪ 12k comments
He clicked onto your profile. 
@yourusername 
5.2M Followers
Followed by @jjareau, @emp.sergio and more
“You’ve got to see her Twitter, lover boy. She’s been gushing about you.”
“Oh, god,” he groans. So much for privacy. He lets her take the phone back, redirecting his attention to your Twitter page. She scrolls back to June before handing it over, letting him read in chronological order.
June 10
@yourusername: hot girl summer is officially over. just asked a man for HIS number.
June 25
@yourusername: is it offensive to men if you call them pretty? bc this man is rlly pretty 
@yourusername: update: apparently it is not :)
July 30:
@yourusername: good morning text + picture of a dog that he claims reminded him of me???? gonna ask for his hand in marriage
August 15
@yourusername: up til 2 bc hes explaining quantum mechanics to me 🧚🏻
@yourusername: embarrassed to say that form of dirty talk worked on me 
August 20
@yourusername: oh btw im a girlfriend now!
↪@yourfan1: look u long enough wtf girl
↪@yourusername: dw im locking him down 🫡
↪@yourfan2: thats OUR man now 💘
“Oh, wow.”
She takes the phone back. “Why didn’t you tell anyone? Or me? Oh, this is great news. You’re bringing her to Rossi’s next, week, right?”
“I- Pen, I have no idea.” He laughs. He watches her type away on the device aggressively. “Are you texting everyone?”
“Yuh-huh. I need to call JJ, like… yesterday. And this isn't the end of this conversation!” She darted back into her office quickly, letting the door fall shut behind her.
He decided his remaining paperwork could wait. He packed his things up in a hurry, and decided to head out of the office, dialing your number on the way out. 
You picked up on the first ring. 
“Hey,” you started. “How was work? Are you heading out?”
“Yeah,” He started. He pushed through the glass doors of the office, staring towards the stairwell. “It was… busy. I just had a really interesting conversation with my coworker.”
“Mhm…” You had been lounging in your hotel room waiting for his call. “About..?”
“You, actually.” He replied. “She follows you on instagram. Apparently most of the office does. She showed me your post today.”
“Oh,” you replied. “Oh god, Spence. I’m sorry. I didn’t think… anyone would be able to tell who you were.”
He laughs. “Yeah, well… I work with some… characters. It’s totally fine, though.”
“Are you sure?” You ask, anxiously.
“Yeah. It was cute,” he replied, smiling to himself as he exited the building. “Tasteful.”
“That's what I wanted,” You reply.
“I thought Twitter was much more interesting, though.”
You froze, cringing. “Oh, god. Tell me you didn't read all of it.
He chuckles. “I skimmed it.”
You groan. 
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mondaymelon · 2 days ago
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— pocky for the malipo ⭑.ᐟ
⟶ ( kinich x gn!reader )
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— in which... hey, does this even count as a kiss...?
— speedran this filler post for pocky day + kinch's birthday.. its single day too LMAO the coincidences are simply uncanny ..
— starts out w mualani + kinich for context , fluff !! reader likes sweets,, ...tw... use of the word orbs..
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“awwww, c’mon!! it’ll be fun, i promise…”
mualani jumps up and down vigorously, her expression slowly growing more and more dejected. “the traveler told me all about it- this otherworldly tradition, y’know, with those little sweet stick thingies, they even gave me a box! it’d be a reallll big shame to waste ‘em, and wouldn’t it be super cool to do?”
recently, mualani had grown very invested in the idea of some date called “pocky day.” these sorts of random hyperfixtations happened just about every other day, but this time the obsession lasted a linger longer than most, all because of some eavesdropping on the traveler, who offhandedly mentioned it in some conversation… anyway, now that the day itself had arrived, 11/11, she was more excited than ever.
“just onnncee..! pretty please, kinich… xilonen? sharky??” seeing that no one here was willing, except for sharky, who wagged his tail in approval, mualani let out a wail.
kinich stared at her with a tired gaze, sighing slowly. “well, i don’t see how-”
“oHHH my aRCHONS, kinich, how are you so BORING?? when i contracted with this stupid guy, YOU, i thought itd be a little more fun than rotting in a cave ALLL day long but APPARENTLY not!!? live a little uGHHGH, you emo little ‘oooohh look at me im so distant and mysterious’ shut UPPP…” ajaw popped out of nowhere, face red and pixelated hands waving back and forth angrily. “c’mooon, surely you aren’t stupid and blind enough to see that this is the literally PERFECt opportunity to smoochy smoochy kiss kiss that one person you've been OGLING with those  big ORBS of yours huh????”
kinich opened his mouth to say something, but then paused. mualani watched with bated breath, squeezing sharky in her hands in anticipation, eyes sparkling, gaze screaming “oh????”. 
“...well… i guess… hmph, even someone like ajaw makes a point sometimes, huh…?” kinich coughed into his fist sheepishly, a barely noticeable blush dusting his cheeks. “though, i’m not ‘ogling’ them at all, ajaw- it’s- well, i’m just observing them. for a commission.”
“suuuUUUReeee palllll, whatever you say- YOU REALLY DIDN’T THINK I’D SAY SOMETHING LIKE THAT, DID YOU??? BLABLABLA LALALA I’m RIGHT AHAHAHH THATS RIGHT IM RIGHT IM-”
kinich swatted ajaw out of the air, in the way one would with a buzzing fly. he flew through the air, disappearing into the horizon with a sparkle.
“...ahem. mualani, i’ll be heading out now.” kinich turned around calmly, as if he hadn’t just committed battery. "if i may, could i get one of those ‘pocky’ you were talking about? i’ll repay you.”
"hehe... no need for repayment, just tell me how it goes later!" mualani, smug and beaming, handed over one of the boxes.
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..and so the time had come.
"kinich?" glancing up from your work, you flashed him a smile. "what's the matter?"
well, it wasn't as if the saurian hunter didn't see you out often- he did. this little nook you had in the scions of canopy was, as kinich put it, "on the convenient way back" for all of his missions, and so the male found most evenings swinging by (pun intended).
no, him coming wasn't the issue here. but kinich had been uncharacteristically.. avoidant of your gaze. for the past five minutes he had been there, arms crossed and leaning against the door frame like they do in those inazuman light novels, he'd been staring at a crack in the floorboards. and to make matters more concerning, he had something strange in his hands too: some sort of box that he kept flipping around with his fingers.
"hey. kini'. we're both not great at words, so just tell me and get.. well, whatever it is. you wanna say over with." at the mention of his nickname, kinich perked up, clearing his throat.
"ah, that..."
ohh, so there was the problem. the eerily quiet atmosphere was because ajaw wasn't present... pause, now you were even more worried. kinich had somehow gotten ajaw off his ass?? unthinkable????
"is it an emergency? fuck, are we all going to die? tell me this type of thing earlier, kini', i need to pack all my-"
"what? no- i, mualani.. she, no, there's this holiday, today. the traveler mentioned it, and i thought it'd be fun to try out.. you like sweets too, so. here." kinich unearthed some sort of... stick? was he really trying to feed you sticks? c'mon now, you weren't that stupid-
"i can read your gaze. it's not like that. here, it's chocolate, just- hah..." kinich sighed, eyebrows pinched together, wearing the expression of someone watching everything go wrong. "give it a taste?"
you eyed him skeptically, before taking the stick out of his hands and taking a bite.
"...sweet."
"yeah?"
"not a stick."
"...yes."
"...give me another."
"not so fast, we need to play the game first." kinich took one of the sticks and put it into his mouth, all of a sudden looking a lot more... guilty? you couldn't quite pinpoint the expression on his face, something you'd been doing with a 30% success rate (the highest any natlanian had ever achieved). "whoever gets the last bite wins."
"...i'm just supposed to. eat the other end?"
"what, you can't?" the slight teasing edge in his voice reminded you of ajaw (just the slightest) and you immediately became exponentially irritated.
"hah, who said that? bet."
"..."
oh, so now he chose not to break eye contact.
"...a-hey, we're getting a little close, aren't we.."
"...if you wanna break it off, lose."
"...fuck, you-"
you grabbed him by the cheek, pushing yourself forward and, admittedly, forcefully touching your lips against his. whether by the suddenness or whether by the fact that you two had, well, "kissed," the esteemed malipo kinich let out what sounded like a sputter and fell backward, hands barely catching him from falling to the ground. sitting himself down, he looked up at you with flushed cheeks, mouth slightly open, and the edge of his lips smudged with chocolate.
"bleh. i win." sticking out your tongue, you motioned with your hands. "the whole box, it's mine now. winner takes all, or whatever they say in mondstadt."
kinich's gaze was observant, and under it you felt your face slowly begin to warm, realizing what you had just done.
"not so fast." kinich stood back up, recomposing himself in a matter of seconds.
"one more round. you caught me off guard."
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(a/n) and then reader and kinich smoochy smooch smooch kiss kissed and single day was no longer single and happy birthday kinich really did become happy for kinich fuck when am i going to find me a partner <- has unrealistic expectations
context notes!! :
ajaw purposefully left kinich alone so that he could do his.. idk if you can call it flirting. pocky game w you. best wingman ajaw we all cheer (in reality he was tired of seeing kinich act all lovey dovey whenever you were around and found the tension suffocating so he decided to take matters into his own hands)
taglist (comment to be added / send in an ask on my sb): @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu-archive, @falors, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader, @fiannee, @aether-darling, @aioniela, @avensuersa, @dainsleif-when-playable, @umiloa, @intpessimistic, @keiiqq, @intpessimistic, @eutopiastar, @matcha-mintea
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philosophicalparadox · 2 days ago
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Also to add: sometimes questions don’t get addressed. Or other parts of a conversation just naturally turn away from where they started to the point it’s too awkward to bring it back up, or there’s just no need to respond to it.
This is especially true of what I call “mediocre” (in the archaic sense of “average quality” ) questions, I.e. “do you remember how you got here?” To a patient in a hospital. Does the answer have meaning? Yes, in the right scene. But not every scene needs to focus on that, though literally any nurse is going to ask if you are unconscious upon arrival, or even if you faint while there. They also don’t particularly care about the answer, as long as you’re not obviously in distress about it.
Similarly, “are you okay?” Asked to a person who is obviously hurt or struggling needs no answer, as such; I certainly don’t tend to answer that question conventionally when the answer is itself obvious. Can it be answered, with meaning? Yes. Does it NEED an answer to feel realistic? No.
“How are you feeling?” I think can fall into this category too.
However these are different from the “flock call” questions, as I call them — the “I’m human, are you human? Oh you are!” Game, which is all social script, I.e. “how are you?” -> “I’m fine”. “How was school?” -> “it was good” etc. these are dictated by social expectations, not legitimate answers, so I don’t even really consider them questions tbh. Nonetheless, it can feel dreadfully awkward to answer those in the expected way sometimes, and for ND people in particular, we tend to have our own little way of answering those. So as a character building aspect of dialogue, they’re valuable.
Also — that body language point!!!!!! Body language IS A LANGUAGE. Entire conversations can be had with no words spoken at all, especially between people who know each other well or in intense confrontations.
And that carries into dialogue as well — sometimes what’s being said with words is Not what’s being said with body language, and that can really make a scene feel both dynamic and real!
The number of times I’ve seen my fiancé, for example, having a “pleasant” conversation with his uncle or mom, and unless you knew how to read his body language, you’d never assume by dialogue alone that he was being closed off or defensive. But nearly every time they have any kind of long talk, regardless of topic, he always crosses his arms, and leans backward, and stands up if he can, if he’s not already, and will, if they follow suit, put something between himself and them. He is the veritable picture of “please don’t talk to me” , buuuuuuut we live in a house of people who can’t read into that to save themselves, except ironically for lil old autistic me, because I had to learn that body language unintuitively lol. However, it’s a great example of that subtextual information being presented in conjunction with dialogue; if you only heard them speak on tape, you’d think they got along and had a wonderful relationship. But by observing the body language, the entire tone of even the most “nice” conversations shifts dramatically into a more questionable light.
But anyways, those are just my contributions! :)
Things Real People Do in Dialogue (For Your Next Story)
Okay, let’s be real—dialogue can make or break a scene. You want your characters to sound natural, like actual humans talking, not robots reading a script. So, how do you write dialogue that feels real without it turning into a mess of awkward pauses and “ums”? Here’s a little cheat sheet of what real people actually do when they talk (and you can totally steal these for your next story):
1. People Interrupt Each Other All the Time In real conversations, nobody waits for the perfect moment to speak. We interrupt, cut each other off, and finish each other's sentences. Throw in some overlaps or interruptions in your dialogue to make it feel more dynamic and less like a rehearsed play.
2. They Don’t Always Say What They Mean Real people are masters of dodging. They’ll say one thing but mean something totally different (hello, passive-aggressive banter). Or they’ll just avoid the question entirely. Let your characters be vague, sarcastic, or just plain evasive sometimes—it makes their conversations feel more layered.
3. People Trail Off... We don’t always finish our sentences. Sometimes we just... stop talking because we assume the other person gets what we’re trying to say. Use that in your dialogue! Let a sentence trail off into nothing. It adds realism and shows the comfort (or awkwardness) between characters.
4. Repeating Words Is Normal In real life, people repeat words when they’re excited, nervous, or trying to make a point. It’s not a sign of bad writing—it’s how we talk. Let your characters get a little repetitive now and then. It adds a rhythm to their speech that feels more genuine.
5. Fillers Are Your Friends People say "um," "uh," "like," "you know," all the time. Not every character needs to sound polished or poetic. Sprinkle in some filler words where it makes sense, especially if the character is nervous or thinking on their feet.
6. Not Everyone Speaks in Complete Sentences Sometimes, people just throw out fragments instead of complete sentences, especially when emotions are high. Short, choppy dialogue can convey tension or excitement. Instead of saying “I really think we need to talk about this,” try “We need to talk. Now.”
7. Body Language Is Part of the Conversation Real people don’t just communicate with words; they use facial expressions, gestures, and body language. When your characters are talking, think about what they’re doing—are they fidgeting? Smiling? Crossing their arms? Those little actions can add a lot of subtext to the dialogue without needing extra words.
8. Awkward Silences Are Golden People don’t talk non-stop. Sometimes, they stop mid-conversation to think, or because things just got weird. Don’t be afraid to add a beat of awkward silence, a long pause, or a meaningful look between characters. It can say more than words.
9. People Talk Over Themselves When They're Nervous When we’re anxious, we tend to talk too fast, go back to rephrase what we just said, or add unnecessary details. If your character’s nervous, let them ramble a bit or correct themselves. It’s a great way to show their internal state through dialogue.
10. Inside Jokes and Shared History Real people have history. Sometimes they reference something that happened off-page, or they share an inside joke only they get. This makes your dialogue feel lived-in and shows that your characters have a life beyond the scene. Throw in a callback to something earlier, or a joke only two characters understand.
11. No One Explains Everything People leave stuff out. We assume the person we’re talking to knows what we’re talking about, so we skip over background details. Instead of having your character explain everything for the reader’s benefit, let some things go unsaid. It’ll feel more natural—and trust your reader to keep up!
12. Characters Have Different Voices Real people don’t all talk the same way. Your characters shouldn’t either! Pay attention to their unique quirks—does one character use slang? Does another speak more formally? Maybe someone’s always cutting people off while another is super polite. Give them different voices and patterns of speech so their dialogue feels authentic to them.
13. People Change the Subject In real life, conversations don’t always stay on track. People get sidetracked, jump to random topics, or avoid certain subjects altogether. If your characters are uncomfortable or trying to dodge a question, let them awkwardly change the subject or ramble to fill the space.
14. Reactions Aren’t Always Immediate People don’t always respond right away. They pause, they think, they hesitate. Sometimes they don’t know what to say, and that delay can speak volumes. Give your characters a moment to process before they respond—it’ll make the conversation feel more natural.
Important note: Please don’t use all of these tips in one dialogue at once.
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ktownshizzle · 1 day ago
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Love & Lullabies | Part 1 of 2
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Pairing: Min Yoongi x female Reader
Summary: What begins as a simple favor for your best friend Namjoon soon pulls you into the rhythms of Yoongi’s life—afternoons spent caring for his son, late nights filled with candid conversations, and a connection neither of you thought you needed. You’re just fresh out of a long-term relationship with an ex who didn’t want a family with you, so did you really just stumble into a life you’ve always dreamed of? (Thank god Namjoon isn’t the only one who’s clumsy.)
Alternatively: It’s 2025 and BTS is prepping for their comeback. All members seem to have gained muscle weight from their time at camp. But Min Yoongi has gained a different kind of weight—an 8-pound baby and a fuck-load of responsibility. (Thank god you’re there to help him.)
Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, idol!au, Acquaintances to Lovers, Reader is Namjoon’s bestie
Warnings: Yoongi is a DILF (!!!) That’s it.
Chapter warnings: A lot of mood and scene setting—just vibe with it, MC is in her sad girl era, hints of depression and anxiety, masturbation, Yoongi is a new dad y’all he is tireddd af
Word count: almost 6k
Posting date: November 12, 2024
Notes: This is inspired by an ask/prompt sent by @yoongznme. Enjoy, my lovelies~ 💕🫶🏼
Part One | Part Two | Masterlist
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Namjoon leans back in his seat, sporting an all-too-familiar, slightly conspiratorial glint in his eyes. Hmm. You know that look. 
It's the same one he had when he "casually" set you up to tutor one of his trainee friends in English—the one you let slip was kinda cute. Or when he signed you up to perform with one of his rapper friends in that underground club in Hongdae. Sure, you knew every word of the chorus to eminem’s Stan, but you were not a fucking singer. 
You still did it, though. Both times. 
Namjoon’s especially notorious for volunteering you to do things he insists are "right up your alley." There’s a fire in his eyes when he starts talking about one of his ideas, and before you know it, you're swept up in his vision, already picturing yourself right there beside him, doing something you’d never consider on your own.
Namjoon has been your best friend since forever and for reasons you can’t explain, saying no to him has always been impossible.
Right. It’s definitely that. It’s definitely not because in those two prior instances mentioned, both friends of his are actually the same guy. The one you had an almost crippling crush on over a decade ago. (You’re sooo over it, though. Trust.)
When Namjoon leaned in, you were already bracing yourself.
“So, you know Yoongi, right?”
You blink, pause, and slowly shake your head. It has taken years, but today is the day you tell him, “No.”
“The fuck? What do you mean no?” He replies, already looking hella amused. “I haven’t even said anything.”
Your face feels like a furnace, but you grit and steady your voice. “Whatever it is, the answer is no.”
He lets out a hum, shifting in his seat, and you get the sense he’s working up to something. 
You sip your coffee, keeping your eyes on him. He gives you an exaggerated shrug, dimples deepening as he lets his shoulder sag. 
God you’re literally already about to break. 
“Fuck. Joon. Spit it out.”
He nods triumphantly, “Ok, there’s something I thought I’d run by you first, before he hears about it.”
The words hang in the air, and you raise an eyebrow. “Joon. What are you getting me into?”
Namjoon chuckles softly as he folds his hands on the table. “So… Yoongi has a son. A baby, actually.” He pauses, watching for your reaction. 
Woah. Someone has fuckboi Min Yoongi all locked down?! Huh. You never saw that coming.
You let that sink in, surprise filling the quiet space between you. “I… didn’t know he had a kid.”
“Not many people do,” Namjoon admits. “Only those close to him know. Yoongi’s a great dad, but his caretaker recently left, and now he’s scrambling to balance his schedule and take care of his son.”
“And his wife?”
Namjoon sighs, gives you a look that means he’s about to say something confidential. “There’s no wife.”
“Baby mama?”
“Out of the picture.”
You let out a small breath, absorbing everything you just heard. You already had an idea of where this is leading up to, but you want it said explicitly. “So what exactly are you asking me?”
Namjoon nods, eyes hopeful. “Look, I know this is a big ask. I’m putting this out there because you’re one of the best with kids I know. And Yoongi—well, he’s pretty wary about letting new people get close to his son.”
You take another sip of your latte as he prattles on.
“While you’re still getting your bearings back, maybe you could take over the caretaker job, even part time?” Namjoon scratches the back of his neck, grinning sheepishly as he says your name. “I just thought you might consider it. You’d be doing us both a favor. Yoongi really needs help, and I’d trust you more than anyone with this.”
You sit back, letting Namjoon’s words settle. Namjoon knows exactly what he’s asking—knows exactly how hard it is for you to refuse when he gives you that puppy dog look, especially when he’s throwing Yoongi into the mix. Honestly, you hate how you're apparently still soft for him even after all these years.
Namjoon also knows your current situation. Does he not realize it’s a bit unfair to ask this of you right now? Not when you're still picking up the pieces after your breakup with your long-term boyfriend. Not when you need time to heal. Not when you literally uprooted your life and just moved back to Seoul a month ago.
But somehow, you can’t shake the curiosity. What would it even be like to see Yoongi as a dad? To get a glimpse of this whole other life he’s got now?
It’s probably a terrible idea. 
Yeah, no. You don’t need this right now. Money isn’t tight. And you need to focus on… 
You take a slow breath, mentally tracing the edges of this mess. There are a hundred reasons to say no, and only one reason you’d even consider saying yes. And because it’s for Yoongi… damn, maybe that’s reason enough.
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The next time you see Yoongi, it’s at HYBE’s massive rehearsal space. Namjoon had invited you to watch the group practice—innocent enough, though you know it’s also his way of nudging you toward the job. Joon thinks he’s subtle, but you know his plans are, more often than not, clunky as hell.
You settle in one corner, holding on to your half-finished iced Americano. A few staff are scattered around the studio, there was another girl (maybe a member’s girlfriend, you’re not sure), but it’s mostly empty. The boys are warming up, stretching or chatting, and you wave to Jungkook and Taehyung before finding yourself glancing toward Yoongi.
Wearing an all black outfit and a baseball cap, he’s standing off to the side, arms full with a fussy baby, and a bassinet stroller in front of him. The boy can’t be more than a few months shy of his first birthday. He’s close to tears, twisting and squirming, while Yoongi, visibly flustered, tries to hand him a toy, then a bottle, then anything he can find. Nothing works. Soon, the baby’s fuss turns into a full-on tantrum.
Oh, damn. Poor Yoongi. 
He drops the bottle, spilling milk across the floor just as the stroller, half-locked, rolls a few feet away. He lunges for it, fumbling as the baby’s wailing intensifies, tiny fists flailing in frustration. Yoongi’s eyes dart around, panicked, while a couple of female staff start toward him, hands outstretched. But he waves them off, his face set in a mix of fierce determination and mild desperation as he rocks and hushes the baby.
It honestly hurts to watch the scene unfold. You almost want to do something.
Namjoon starts clearing people out, Jimin dims the studio lights, and Seokjin picks up the spilled bottle, wiping down the floor. Hobi taps a white noise track on his phone, placing it near the stroller. Your heart warms at how effortlessly everyone pitches in, their movements so practiced it’s obvious they’ve done this before. But it makes you wonder just how many rehearsals have paused for these moments. It’s probably why Namjoon wants to help find a solution, a.k.a you.
You meet your best friend’s gaze and he cocks his head toward the door, signaling for you to file out with the others, but your feet take you somewhere else entirely.
“Is he okay?” you ask, approaching Yoongi.
Yoongi doesn’t hear you at first, too focused on calming his son. His face is etched with exhaustion and something fragile, an uncharacteristic crack in his calm. He finally glances up, half-exasperated. To your mild relief, a look of recognition crosses his face, before he replies, “Yeah, he’s—he’s usually not this fussy.”
You watch him struggle for a bit, then, before you can second-guess, you step forward. “Do you mind if I try?”
Yoongi hesitates, studying you like he’s weighing the decision to trust you with his son. His eyes flick towards Namjoon who was standing by the door, before it goes back to you. After a tense pause, he nods, handing the baby over.
You hold the little boy, shifting him gently away from the mirrors and bright lights, rocking him slowly and humming an old lullaby you used to sing for your preschoolers. Gradually, his cries quiet down, his tiny head resting against your shoulder as he begins to relax, fingers curling around the fabric of your shirt. Within minutes, he’s fast asleep.
When you glance up, Yoongi is watching, his face unreadable. There’s relief, yes, but also a quiet wonder, an almost surprised gratitude. 
“I owe you,” he murmurs, a softness in his voice you hadn’t expected.
“‘S ok,” you say, quietly, careful not to wake the baby.
The two of you stand there, his eyes on you for just a beat too long, and if you didn’t have the baby to ground you, you feel like you just might float.
“Thank you,” he says, tone soft and sincere.
From across the room, Namjoon watches, his eyes mirroring the same gratitude.
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The call from Yoongi comes unexpectedly one evening, just after dinner. You don’t recognize the number, then again you don’t have a lot of +82s yet since you just moved back after many years of being in the States. The last thing you expect is to hear Yoongi’s voice on the other end of the line.
“Hey, it’s…Min Yoongi,” he starts, voice a little rough.
“Oh, hi.”
There’s a short silence, and then he clears his throat. “Namjoonie mentioned you uh might… be interested in helping with my son.”
You feel a strange flutter, both at the fact that Yoongi is talking to you, and at the fact that he’s asking something so personal. “Uh, yeah. I can help out.”
The pause is long enough that you imagine him somewhere, shifting uncomfortably. “I know it’s a lot to ask,” he finally says, sounding almost apologetic. “I don’t want to… impose or anything. But it would help. A lot.”
“Okay.”
“Thank you,” You hear Yoongi release a sigh of relief. Then he says the next phrase in a rush, “I know you are overqualified for this, so uh please let me compensate you with your salary as a teacher in America.”
You feel your face flush. Thank god this was not a video call. Seems you’re as uncomfortable as he is talking about money, though it is a necessary evil. “Oh, no, please Yoongi. You don’t have to. Joonie’s my bestfriend and you’re his brother. I can just help until you can find a more permanent solution.”
Thankfully, he doesn’t argue with you on this. You hear a puff of breath before he says. “Alright. Thank you.”
And just like that, you’re set. He gives you the address, and you’re left wondering for the rest of the night how you’ll manage this strange new gig.
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The first day you arrive at Yoongi’s apartment in Hannam-dong, you’re a bundle of nerves, unsure what to expect. 
After you ring the bell, the door opens to reveal Yoongi with his usual reserved expression, a piece of muslin cloth draped on one shoulder.
“Hi,” he says simply, stepping aside to let you in.
You offer him a smile. “Hey.”
He closes the door behind you as you step inside. You look around, taking everything in.
The apartment is spacious but cozy, with a warmth that speaks of careful design—minimalistic furniture in muted colors, shelves lined with books and vinyl records, a few baby toys strewn around the living room. Homey.
This is the first time you get to really see Yoongi. The brief encounter at the rehearsal studio didn’t afford you the chance to appreciate how time has treated him. 
Seeing him after six years, he’s both the same and somehow different. He has always had that calm confidence—a steady, grounded energy that feels both nostalgic and new. His usually colorful hair, now in its natural hue, casually frames his face. He wears a simple white tee and you can tell the noodle arms are gone. His shoulders are much broader, arms stronger than how you remember him. The silver earrings are still there, subtle reminders of his edginess, softened by time.
But beneath it all, there’s a layer of, hmm… exhaustion, you guess? A shadow under his eyes, faint lines hinting at the weight of sleepless nights. His lips are chapped, there’s a tiny red bump on his chin. He’s a new dad, he hasn’t prioritized himself for a while. Still, his face carries a tenderness in the fatigue, like he’s tired, but happy.
“He’s napping right now,” Yoongi clears his throat, motioning toward a small crib by the window, where his son is sleeping peacefully, bundled in soft blankets. 
“You haven’t told me his name.”
“Haneul.”
“That’s beautiful,” you reply, and Yoongi nods, almost shy.
He hesitates, glancing down as if gathering his thoughts. Then he says your name. “I… um, I didn’t know how this would go. His last caretaker was actually my aunt, but she got sick and had to go back home.”
“I’m really sorry to hear that.”
He nods, “But after seeing how he calmed down with you… I think he’ll be alright.”
He gives you a tour of his apartment, the baby monitor clipped in his jean pocket. His place is modern, spacious, baby-proofed. There are pictures that line the walls of the hallway linking the nursery, his studio, guest room, guest bath, and the masters.
You spend some time going through Haneul’s things—familiarizing yourself with the layout of the nursery. He shows you where the baby food and snacks are. Talks about his favorite toys and activities. 
While he downloads the 101 on Haneul, the one thing you were curious to know was, where is his birth mom? You obviously don’t want to be a prick so you swallow the question down. Maybe you’ll find out in the future. But for now, you just need to know where the baby wipes are.
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For the first few days that you come over, Yoongi keeps close, hovering just within earshot as you ease into the cadence of his son’s needs. He’s there with his arms folded, watching as you handle Haneul, a cautious yet respectful distance. You get it though. You’re a virtual stranger he just let into his home and his son’s life. Who wouldn’t be guarded?
You quickly notice that Haneul has a sweet temperament, but has a bit of a sensitive side. He doesn’t take to loud sounds, so you keep your voice low and movements gentle, singing him lullabies and nursery rhymes under your breath while Yoongi quietly observes, even if he pretends to be engrossed with something else.
On your third day, Yoongi has to leave to attend an important meeting at HYBE. He’s been pacing by the door, making sure his son is settled before he goes, even though you’re right there, holding the baby with practiced ease.
“Are you sure you’re… good with this?” he asks, his brow furrowed, as if still convincing himself to leave.
You give him a reassuring smile. “Go. I got him. He’ll be fine.”
He hesitates one last time, eyes fixed on you, and then he finally gives a small nod. “Okay. I’ll be back soon.”
As soon as the door closes, you’re left with the quiet hum of the apartment and a very awake, very curious baby in your arms. You spend the next hour rocking him and singing songs, amazed at how easily he settles, almost as if he’s known you longer than a few days.
After his nap, you take a video of the babbling Haneul enjoying his yogurt gems and send it to Yoongi. He replies almost immediately with a smiley emoji and a curt: cute.
Yoongi returns around dinnertime right as you’ve settled the baby down in his bed. He steps inside the nursery quietly, watching as you tuck the blanket around his son. When you look up, he’s standing there, holding two cups of steaming liquid.
“I, uh… thought you might want some tea,” he says, looking slightly awkward but endearing.
“Always.” You take the mug with a grateful smile. “How was your meeting?”
“Could’ve been an email,” He shrugs and stuffs the empty hand inside his pocket.
You grin as you take a sip, remembering how you’ve always enjoyed his dry sense of humor, in the rare occasions you hung out in the past. Ooh, this tea is… your favorite.
“Silver moon?” you asked.
He nodded, “There’s a TWG shop that just opened near the office. Namjoonie might have mentioned it was your favorite, so.”
Your ears warm up just as well as your throat as you savor another drink.
“How was Haneul? Did he give you a hard time?”
“Not at all,” you shake your head, looking over to the little angel. “I’ve had a lot of practice, you know.”
“I can’t imagine handling a whole classroom full of them,” he says, looking at you with a mix of admiration and amusement. “One’s hard enough.”
“You’re lucky to have him,” you reply wistfully, suddenly feeling a tug at your heartstrings. ‘What I would give…’ you almost utter out loud.
The thing is, you actually do, without realizing it. Unbeknownst to you, Yoongi files the thought away, a subject he might bring up one day—when the time comes that he thinks you trust him, too.
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The days blur into a steady rhythm. You arrive in some afternoons, not really everyday, only when Yoongi needs the extra hand at home or if he needs to leave the house for a day of rehearsals. You both establish that this is merely a favor so he doesn’t treat you like you’re at his every beck and call. Usually it starts with a short message in Kakao, and if you’re free, he would send a car to pick you up. Your meals are always ready, delivered on the dot. Conveniences are always within your reach—your favorite tea, extra clothes in case there are food or poop blow-outs, etc. The cleaning lady that goes thrice a week, Mrs. Kwon sometimes keeps you company and assists you with anything.
As you help take care of his baby, you feel that he’s looked out for you, too. Which is nice.
On days that he is working from home, Yoongi brings his work into the living room, just to be nearby during playtime with you and Haneul. 
One evening, when his son falls asleep in your arms after a particularly fussy day, Yoongi glances up from his laptop and leans back in his chair, a tired but grateful smile breaking through.
“He’s really taken to you,” he observes, sounding almost as if he’s admitting it to himself.
You smile, feeling a strange warmth at his words. “I think he’s just a really sweet kid, Yoongi. He’s easy to love.”
The smile he gives you after that is probably the gummiest one you’ve ever seen. 
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A few weeks pass, and a subtle partnership has started forming between you, like you’re both slowly finding a rhythm in the chaos of caring for Haneul.
Bath time becomes a kind of unspoken relay: you gather the towel and clothes, while Yoongi preps the tub, testing the water with careful fingers. There’s a brief exchange of glances—no need for words, just a nod as you pass off Haneul, who’s already giggling happily.
Snack time turns into a ritualized watch party. You set out the applesauce and crackers for Haneul, and Yoongi brings a bag of chips and his laptop over to the living room, joining you and Haneul for yet another episode of Miss Rachel. Occasionally, he’ll mutter a sarcastic comment under his breath, trying (and failing) to disguise the fact that he’s memorized the songs, too. (And in English, no less!)
There was one particular afternoon that you walk in on the father and son having a heartwarming exchange.
Haneul, who’s wobbling on his unsteady little legs, is reaching eagerly for a stuffed tiger Yoongi is holding just out of reach.
“Oh, no, no, no—you gotta work for this,” Yoongi teases, eyebrows raised dramatically. He moves the tiger side to side, adding a low, exaggerated growl that makes Haneul squeal with laughter. Yoongi leans fully into the act, growling and making faces, finally swooping Haneul up with a playful roar, both of them dissolving into laughter.
You can’t help but laugh along with them, your heart catching slightly at the sight. The way his eyes crinkle in genuine amusement, his mouth relaxed into a wide gummy grin. And you’re startled by how… soft he looks, how fucking attractive he is when he’s like this. When his usual quiet intensity is replaced by this playfulness, by this open warmth. It hits you somewhere deep, a warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest that you can’t quite ignore.
Yoongi catches you watching, his smile faltering for a moment, but he holds your gaze. His expression shifts, something curious reflecting in his eyes as if he’s wondering what you’re thinking, but he doesn’t ask. Instead, he swallows a lump in his throat, cheeks dusting a faint pink as he looks down, bashful.
You force yourself to glance away, feeling warmth creep up your neck. For the first time, you’re struck by an awareness of him that wasn’t there before, and it lingers, even as you turn back to whatever it was you were supposed to be doing. The image of his smile, his laughter—it all stays with you, stirring something you can’t quite put a name to.
And just like that, you’re settling into this role in the life of the Min men—something you know is temporary, but is infinitely meaningful.
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When you’re not in Yoongi’s apartment, your own place feels strangely foreign.
God, you hate it here. You can’t even bring yourself to call it home—it’s just a room with white walls, half-opened moving boxes, a stack of unread books Joonie gave you, a mattress on the floor, and a fridge with a single egg. It’s quiet. Too quiet. You could fix the place up—it’s not like you can’t afford a bed frame or groceries—but for some reason, you’re punishing yourself. Like this is the way someone like you—unwanted and rejected—ought to live.
Nothing in this flat tethers you to it, and maybe that’s why you prefer being out.
You’re afraid your heart is stuck somewhere in limbo, somewhere between Seoul and LA. Maybe it’s still floating above the clouds on that flight back. You don’t know when it’ll come down, but you hope it’s soon.
Tonight, you’re restless, tossing and turning in your makeshift bed, replaying fragments of your old life—a love that once felt solid, a future that had once felt certain. Your mind drifts to those last conversations with Jiyong, your ex, the ones where he shut down every hope you had for a family, making you wonder if wanting more was somehow wrong.
You probably deserve it, though. You want a family, but you can barely cook for yourself. What do you hope to feed a child—takeout? Junk food? It’s laughable. You can’t even make a home feel like one. Jiyong probably got tired of you because you’re useless at it.
Stop. You close your eyes, focus on your breathing, try to still your mind. 1, 2, 3…
Some nights, you especially hate yourself. Tonight is one of them.
You need to call Namjoon. He can usually talk you down, ease the self-loathing. You ring him three times, but each time, you get his voicemail. Fuck. Maybe he’s out, maybe he’s getting laid. Good for him, honestly.
But that might actually work. You rummage through one of your boxes and find the one purple bullet that’s gotten you through plenty of spirals. With a flick, the vibrator buzzes to life, and you slip it beneath your panties, pressing it right against your clit. You’re not in the mood to drag this out—you want release, quick and easy, something to take the edge off.
At first, your limbs relax as that familiar tingle begins, little sparks shooting from your core, teasing you with hints of pleasure. You keep at it, determined, but after a few minutes, the sensations stall. It’s like your body’s stuck, lingering on the edge without tipping over, leaving you stranded and more frustrated than when you started. You decide to cut your losses.
Maybe a shower. Maybe you can pop by the GS25 down the block for a bottle of soju.
But then your phone pings. It’s Yoongi.
Your tummy suddenly feels funny.
You immediately swipe up and read the string of messages that has popped on your Kakao.
Yoongi: Hey so I found this in Haneul’s crib Yoongi: image.jpg  Yoongi: u got this for him? he is lowkey obsessed. Yoongi: But WTF is it? 
You cackle. Loud and hearty. A sound you didn’t think you were capable of on a shitty night like this.
You: A capybara! Look it up! Yoongi: Oh Yoongi: never heard of it You: They’re cute Yoongi: ? You: Don't be mean You: Haneul and I love bora Yoongi: ?? You: thats her name Yoongi: noted
That night, the Kakao thread becomes your lifeline. Yoongi asks about your next visit, what you had for dinner, and when you say goodnight he sends back a grainy selca of him and a sleeping Haneul with Bora. The photo brings unexpected joy, something to remind you that you aren’t as alone as it sometimes feels. Finally, you succumb to slumber, clutching your phone to your chest, thoughts of Yoongi and Haneul floating in your dreams.
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After that, you become more and more aware that Yoongi’s place has become a sanctuary. There’s Haneul’s bright laughter, the way his tiny fingers curl around yours, and the sound of Yoongi’s soft, steady voice, creating a background that somehow starts to feel comforting. With them, you’re too busy to dwell on the past or the ache left behind by someone else’s rejection. Instead, you’re present, stable.
And it’s in those moments—when you’re reading Haneul a story or soothing him to sleep—that you feel a glimmer of something you’d thought you’d lost: hope. The simple act of holding him, soothing him through his small struggles… It’s healing in a way you can’t quite put into words, as if this little boy is slowly fusing pieces of your heart you’d almost forgotten were broken.
And Yoongi—he’s part of it, too. His presence, his quiet strength, the way he’s trusted you with something so precious. 
You know this is just a phase, that this isn’t your life, but a part of you can’t help but imagine what it would be like if it were. To be here, day after day, with this little family that’s somehow found its way into your heart.
You’re still healing, still putting yourself back together, but this—this feels like the start of something you could believe in again.
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What you couldn’t believe though was the email from your building administrator with an acknowledgment receipt for next quarter’s rent payment—all settled. You haven’t made the deposit yet, how come it’s saying it’s been paid for already?
You pace your room staring at the email from your phone as if it holds all the answers. 
What is happening? Who paid for this? You didn’t sign up for some sugar baby service… 
Wait. Something clicks in your brain. Suga. Baby.
Your first instinct is to call Namjoon, meddler extrordinaire. He picks up on the second ring, sounding annoyingly chipper.
“‘Sup, buttercup?” he asks.
“Don’t act cute, Joonie,” you warn. “Did you know about this?”
There’s a pause. “About what, exactly?”
“Yoongi,” you say, practically hissing his name. “He paid my rent, didn’t he? Three months’ worth. How did he even know where I live?”
Namjoon lets out a hum, his tone maddeningly calm. “Ah. That.”
“Yes. That. Care to explain?”
“Look,” Namjoon says, unbothered. “Yoongi asked, so I gave him your address. He said you refused his offer, but still he wanted to pay you back somehow.”
“But Joon! It’s too much—” You pause, scrambling for the right words. “How did he even get a hold of the landlord and settle all this without my knowledge?”
Namjoon chuckles, which only makes you more annoyed. “Yoongi hyung is an influential guy, you know. If he wants something, he’ll fuckin’ find a way. Just take it, okay? You’re helping him, he’s helping you. It’s fair.”
You huff, still not convinced. “It’s just… a lot, Joon. I don’t need anyone swooping in and paying my bills. And you could’ve at least warned me.”
“I get it. But you’re helping him with something really important. This is his way of saying thank you.”
You sink back into your chair, the irritation draining out of you. “Fine,” you mutter. “But if he pulls something like this again, I’m coming for your ass.”
Namjoon laughs. “Aishh. Why the hell is it my fault?”
“You’re a smart man. Figure it out.” You hang up.
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You spend that afternoon at Yoongi's. He was in a rush, dashing out for some shoot as you arrive. You hear him return around seven, just as you're finishing putting Haneul to sleep. Once the baby is settled, you tiptoe out of the nursery with the baby monitor on hand, following the sounds of soft clinking and the rich aroma wafting from the kitchen.
“Hey, Yoongi,” you call out, stepping into view. “Haneul’s all tucked in. I was just gonna—”
“Stay for dinner?” Yoongi’s eyes light up, his voice gentle but hopeful as he turns, holding a pot in one hand and a wooden spoon in the other. It looks like he came straight from his shoot, his hair still styled in soft, precise waves that swoop perfectly across his cheekbones. He’s wearing the softest, oversized yellow sweater layered over a crisp white shirt, and his jeans hug him just right. But it’s his smile that really draws you in—light radiates from him, his face glowing not just from a bit of skincare, but from something more.
Goddamn. The man is looking fine as hell.
You’d planned to meet up with Namjoon tonight, but one look at Yoongi—whose eyes are too shy to hold yours as he ladles red sauce into a ceramic bowl—and you know you are absolutely staying put. Joon will understand.
“Ok, yeah, that looks really good,” you say.
“It is.” Yoongi smirks, just barely, and gestures to the fridge. “I’ll plate this up if you can grab some drinks?”
You procure a couple of beers from the chiller and set them on the dining table, shooting off a quick text to Joon afterwards.
You: Hey, raincheck? Yoongi made dinner and it looks good ngl
His response is instant.
Namjoon: You blowing me off to play house with hyung. K. I see how it is.
This asshole.
You’re about to call and give him a piece of your mind when Yoongi’s voice pulls you back. “Everything okay?”
Your gaze shifts to the plates of spaghetti he’s just set down, the aroma working wonders to sway your thoughts. “Yeah, just Joon being a pain in my ass as usual.”
“Sit.” Yoongi gestures to your chair as he settles into his.
“Wait.” You grab the baby monitor from the kitchen counter, setting it between you and Yoongi. The screen shows Haneul fast asleep, Bora tucked securely under his arm.
“There. Now we can eat.”
Yoongi nods, and the two of you dig in.
It hits you that this is actually the first time the two of you have shared a quiet dinner together like this. You were expecting Yoongi to let the silence linger, but he starts a conversation mid-way.
“I, uh, was surprised to see you back here,” he says casually, twirling a forkful of pasta.
“Me too. It was… kind of abrupt.”
He nods, not pressing, just listening. You don’t think you’re ready to talk about that so you try a joke.
“Didn’t think you’d ever see the girl who carried your performance of Stan?” you add, smirking. “I basically launched your career.”
“Carried?” He raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Nah, you were choking.”
“Hell no.”
“Uh-huh.” He laughs softly, shoulders bobbing. “Rewriting history….”
“Fine. I sucked. Joon totally went behind my back with that one. Not that he’s the only one who likes going behind my back,” you add pointedly, of course alluding to the matter of your paid-off rent.
Yoongi scratches the back of his neck, looking almost guilty. “Sorry for overstepping.”
“Just don’t start paying my utilities behind my back, too. Because—”
He shifts awkwardly, avoiding your gaze.
“Yoongi?”
He clears his throat. “Just your electricity. I… may have asked the landlord to include it this month.”
“Oh my god.”
“And water,” he adds quickly, eyes widening like a kid who just got caught.
“Add my Netflix subscription while you’re at it.”
“Done.”
“NO!!! You’re actually worse than Joonie,” you groan, though a smile quirks at your lips. “But, thank you:”
He nods, briefly pausing before he speaks up again, a little too flippantly. “So… you and Namjoonie—what’s the deal there?”
You blink, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”
He shrugs, looking somewhere over your shoulder. “You know what we all think? That he’s playing some kind of long game with you.”
You wrinkle your nose, laughing. “Oh god, no. Y’all are waayyy off. Namjoon’s like my brother, that’s it.”
Yoongi nods slowly, the smallest hint of a smile on his lips as he watches you.
“Everyone thinks that, huh?” you ask, leaning in, a little bolder than usual.
“Mhmm.” Yoongi gives a slow nod, as he nibbles his lower lip.
“All the members?”
“Yeah,” he says, watching you carefully.
“Including you?”
He shrugs, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips, though something shifts in his expression, like he’s trying to piece together a puzzle he didn’t know existed.
“Interesting,” you murmur, swirling your glass.
“Why?” he narrows his eyes on you, wheels turning in his head.
Maybe it’s the beer loosening you up, bubbles lifting your usual filters. You’ve always been a lightweight.
“You never wondered why Joonie suddenly set you up for English tutoring with me—just you—even though your company had a professional hired to teach everyone?”
He blinks, eyes narrowing a bit more.
“Or why I ended up singing with you at that damn club?” You laugh, leaning back.
His lips mold into a small pout, processing, but you’re already laughing.
“Joonie’s been throwing me into your orbit, Yoongi,” you say, giggling, the alcohol hitting you hard now. “And you’re telling me you never noticed?”
He looks like he’s having a full conversation with himself, his mouth opening and closing like a stunned goldfish inside a gallon bottle. All he manages is an eloquent: “shit.”
“Well, for the record,” you pause, “I thought you were cute, but it was obvious you weren’t interested. Don’t worry, though,” you say lightly, glancing down on your almost empty plate. “I’m a big girl now. It’s all in the past.”
As you stab the last meatball, you miss the way Yoongi’s gaze softens.
You have no way of knowing what’s going through his head. But if you did, you would find that he’s thinking:
If he could go back in time, he’d kick his younger self straight in the balls for not noticing, and tell him to get his head out of his ass long enough to realize this one shocking truth: 
You were not Namjoon’s girl.
And he actually had a chance with you.
Because maybe you’re right. Back then everything was about the dream—y’know, big house, big cars, big rings, and all that shit. So yeah, maybe, he wasn’t ready then.
But that doesn’t mean he isn’t now.
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Notes: Oh-KKKAYYY!! How are we feeling? Anything you liked in particular in this chapter? Where is the baby mama? Do we even care atp?!
Part 2 is where things get more flirty, spicy, and all that good stuff.
Tell me your thoughts and theories. See you in the comments! <333
Thank you for reading, you lovely, beautiful, human 💕🫶🏼
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Taglist:
@yoongznme @nnybtitts08 @rinkud @nbjch05 @perfectiondazesworld
@marnz1990 @mxrauds @queenbloody @jadestonedaeho7 @futuristicenemychaos
@direnediane @glossdebut @maryhopemei @theresstardustinmyblood @mggv97
@wobblewobble822 @kam9404 @supernoonanyc @damn-u-min-yoongi @ot72025
@busanbby-jjk @granataepfelchen @jajabro @tarahardcore @marihoneywk
@ryryvna @tea4sykes @mar-lo-pap @lilkittenjenjen
@captainchrisstan @thelittlecatonthecake @flaneuseonthestreets @sexytholland @diamonddia-mond
@yronathaniel @as-hs-blog @amarssfanfic @mafersame @amarawayne
@eurydiceofterabithia
Sorry if I'm unable to tag you. Did my best to include everyone who commented and asked!
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scribblesofagoonerr · 21 hours ago
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the pests are back in town | chaos fc
summary: someone at arsenal made a rookie error and paired the aussie pest and british menace together for media day and it's the usual chaos like always. pairings: chaos fc reader!monkey x kyra cooney cross x arsenal wfc chaos fc masterlist
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“It’s a joke right? Tell me it’s a mistake?” You overhear Steph question as you walk nearer to them and you’re curious to know exactly what they’re talking about.
Kim sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose, “I don’t think so.”
“Alright, I’m here now the party can begin,” You joke, hobbling through with your foot still in a boot and grinning mischievously when you spot Lia chatting with Kim and Steph, “Hi, Wallaby! Did you miss me?” You ask, slinging your arm around the Swiss woman’s shoulder with a slight difficulty of her being taller than you.
“Hi little one,” Lia turns to give you a side hug, “How did the hospital appointment go?” She asks, concerned.
“Doc’ is dumb,” You murmur in a low voice, your mood changing instantly at the mention of the appointment you had this morning that didn’t go your way like you thought it would.
You were kind of disheartened by your latest hospital appointment, you didn’t get the good news that you were expecting after all and you were still going to be sidelined for a while yet, since your ankle fracture still hadn’t healed properly yet.
That definitely wasn’t made worse by the fall you had when you and Kyra tried and failed to do a TikTok trend, but that’s a story for a different day.
“Here’s the menace,” Steph jokes, ruffing your hair, “I see you still got the boot on, eh?”
“Unfortunately, I hate it,” You huff while definitely feeling grumpy and deflated about the news, “Stupid doc reckons it’s still not healed properly yet– I just wanna play and I have no chance of it anytime soon, it’s not fair!”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have tried that TikTok trend then,” Kim remarks knowingly as she gives you a pointed look you’ve been on the receiving end of too many times.
“What TikTok trend? I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about there, Kimmy,” You play dumb and shrug your shoulders.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Kim states while she purses her lips.
Shaking your head, you pull a silly facial expression, “Nope, literally have no idea–  What’re you guys lookin’ so… Irked about anyways?” You wonder, noting the weary looks the three of them share, “What’s going on?”
“It’s gotta be a mistake,” Steph murmurs, staring at the paper with a blank expression on her face, “Right?”
Before you can get a straight answer, Lia jumps into the conversation again, “It’s gotta be.”
“What?” You repeat the question, staring at them while still none the wiser.
“Nope it’s not,” Beth appears, peering over Kim’s shoulder and confirming what you’re already itching to know.
“Oh god,” Steph mutters, shaking her head in disagreement.
You blink, still utterly confused about the topic of conversation they were on about, “What… What is it?” You exchange looks between all 4 of the older girls, but none of them are giving you anything to work with, “What’re you all on about?”
“You and Kyra,” Lia finally decides to be the one to tell you the good news, “You pair are together for media day.” She tells you, biting her bottom lip and clearly bracing for impact.
“Seriously?” Your eyes light up in pure glee, “Yes! Winner!” You're practically vibrating with excitement, and if it wasn’t for your dumb ankle fracture then you would definitely be jumping up and down in joy.
You and Kyra? A dangerous duo on any given day, but today– on media day– things were about to get even more chaotic.
Steph groans dramatically, “We’re all doomed.”
“Who made the mistake?” Beth furrows her eyebrows and shakes her head, “These two together are a nightmare– The last media day proved it alone!”
“Hey! We’re not that bad,” You insist, huffing in offense.
“Yes. You are,” Steph deadpans, “You and Kyra are the worst when you’re together. Need I remind you of Melbourne?”
“Oh, but that was such a fun time!” You exclaim, grinning mischievously, “I don’t know about you, but I personally had a blast out there.”
“I think Kim is still reliving that nightmare,” Lia chips in amusedly as you sneak a glance at your captain who you swear shudders at the memory, “This isn’t a good idea.”
You pout, crossing your arms together, “Oh, come on. You guys seriously don’t think that much about us, do you?”
Beth doesn’t even think to hesitate, “No.”
“Absolutely not,” Steph shakes her head, reinforcing it.
You open your mouth to argue, but then Katie strolls over  with Caitlin while smirking, “Oh you guys just discovered the pests are together for media day?” She questions.
“This is a nightmare,” Beth shakes her head dramatically.
“Well that’s just rude,” You huff in response just as you spot your best friend and instantly perk up, ���Ky! Guess what, we’re together for media duties!”
“What, seriously? Yes!” Kyra exclaims, letting out a cheer and definitely buzzing about the news.
“This is bad, so very bad,” Lia mutters to herself, shaking her head in disagreement.
You roll your eyes, exasperated, “Nah, nah, this is a great day!” You insist, “It’s gonna be wonderful. It’s like Christmas morning!”
Steph snorts, clearly amused, “If this is how excited you get for Christmas, you’ve got serious issues.”
You shrug casually, zero shame on your face, “Yeah, I know. I come with a lot of trauma,” You pause for a split second, “Dead dad, mum that abandoned me, blah blah blah,” You wave a hand like it’s not a big deal, “Need I go on?”
“Leah!?” Kattie furrows her brow in concern, “There’s something with your kid,” She glances around to look for the blonde, “I think she’s broken!” She jokes, dramatically.
“Oh no, she’s not broken,” Leah laughs in amusement, slinging her arm around your shoulder, “She’s just… Well, she’s Monkey.” She explains, shrugging her shoulders.
“See? I’m just– Hey, that was still an insult, Malfoy!” You grumble in protest.
“Monkey, we’ve already been over this,” Leah groans in annoyance, “Will you stop callin’ me that?”
“Nope,” You can’t help but smirk, “As long as you still continue to get wound up over it, definitely not.”
“Give me strength,” Leah mutters, rubbing her temples, “What’re you so happy about?” She wonders, noticing the cheshire grin on your face.
“Me and Ky are paired together for media,” You fill her in with a grin plastered on your face.
Leah can’t help but snort and shake her head, “That’s a joke, right?”
“That’s what I said!” Steph exclaims, throwing her hands up in the air, “Someone must’ve made  a mistake, right?”
“No, no, no,” Leah shakes her head promptly, “You two are… You’re trouble together, look what happened in America!”
“I think you’re overreacting slightly there Le,” You insist, rolling your eyes.
“Am I? Cos’ I think the fractured ankle really speaks for itself,” Leah deadpans.
“Urgh,” You groan dramatically, tilting your head back at the painful memory, “It’s bad enough I have this stupid cast, you don’t need to mention it as well.”
“Wait, does Kimmy still have your skateboard held hostage?” Kyra wonders, curiously as she wraps her free around your shoulder.
“Yeah she does,” The pout currently plastered on your face really just spoke for itself, “Le’s being the captain of the fun police and not allowing me to have any fun.” You mutter.
Leah clicks her tongue and shakes her head, “And risk breaking your neck as well? Yeah, not a single chance am I taking that risk– It stays at Kim’s out of the way since we can’t exactly send it back now.”
“But what fun is it if it just stays in the cupboard?” You don’t relent from this conversation as you huff dramatically, “How about…”
“How about we don’t revisit this conversation and forget about the skateboard instead, yeah?” The blonde cuts in with a knowing look.
“Monkey? Kyra?” One of the media team waves over to you both to get your attention, “We need you both.”
“We’re needed already?” Kyra furrows her eyebrows and shrugs her shoulders, “Lets’ go!”
Your eyes light up in glee, “Fantastic, be right there,” Before looking back at the huddle of older girls, “It’s showtime!”
“Don’t be a brat and get in any trouble–” Leah begins to say.
“I’m sorry all I heard then was blah blah blah,” You interject with a mischievous smile on her face, “Come on Ky, let’s go and find out what we’ve gotta do!” With that, you quite literally pull Kyra in the direction of where you need to go.
Katie chuckles lowly at the blondes’ facial expression, “You’ve got your hands full with that one, ain’t you, Le?”
“Don’t even go there,” Leah huffs and shakes her head in response, “That girl sometimes, honestly she’s so bloody cheeky, but I do love her dearly.”
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“Hi, I’m Kyra!” Your Australian counterpart jumps in first to speak, introducing herself.
“And I’m Monkey– “ You start but get cut off with the cameraman giving you a knowing look, “What? Seriously, I have to answer my actual name? Oh for *bleep* sake!”
“Monkey!” You hear Leah scold from the other side of the room, which you’re honestly shocked how she managed to hear that so far away.
“Sorry, sorry, anyways…” You quietly mumble your name begrudgingly in front of the camera that’s rolling, “I can’t believe you guys just made me say that aloud. I hate you all.”
The cameraman chuckles from the other side, “Continue.”
You huff and dramatically fold your arms, “Alright, well yeah, we’re gonna play ‘How Well Do You Know Each Other?” You pause for a brief second, “This should be interesting.”
“Puts our ‘best friend’ knowledge to the test,” Kyra adds in, grinning teasingly.
You resist the urge to roll your eyes in response as you look at the cameraman, “How do we do this then?”
“One of you will read the cards aloud and answer, while the other sits further back with headphones listening to music,” The cameraman explains, motioning to the large bulky headphones on the table in front.
“Better be good music,” You remark in a cheeky tone of voice.
“Do you wanna go first?” Kyra asks, glancing at you.
“Yeah, sure why not… How hard could it be?” You smirk as you grab the cards in front of you, “Pft, easy, bring it on!”
With that, the camera stops filming for a second before it begins again with Kyra sitting on a chair a few feet away from you while you’re sitting on the chair in front.
“You good?” You question, Kyra responds with a thumbs up when she can’t hear anything and you giggle, “I could say so much right now…” You say, as Kyra continues to look cluelessly at you.
The cameraman chuckles, “Let’s get to the questions.”
You pick up the first card, “Where is Kyra from?” You read the question aloud and ponder thinking for a few seconds, “Australia, well Queensland to be more specific– Yeah I’m sure it is there!”
You switch out the card and scan your eyes over it,  “When is Kyra’s birthday?” You continue to read the next question aloud, “Easy, 15th February, 2002– You know you guys should really make these more easier for me,” You joke, grinning teasingly as you look directly at the camera.
Tossing the card aside, you flip to the third and final one, “When did Kyra make her debut for Arsenal?” You read the final one aloud, “Oo, this ones’ even better! It was last October, the first game of the season, which we unfortunately lost, but I was there,” You pause after giving your answer with full confidence, “I’m surprised I remember, cos’ I was sick, but yeah… her first debut was then!”
The cameraman chuckles, “That’s three for Kyra done,” He declares, turning the camera off and gesturing Kyra back to sit beside you, “Right, now we’ll film it so it’s Kyra reacting to your answers before switching roles. Sound good, girls?”
You wave dismissively, “Yup, no worries!”
“Yeah, sounds good,” Kyra adds, planting herself down in the empty seat, as she camera starts rolling again, “How’d you do?”
“The questions were so easy,” You joke, cockily, “Kinda wish I had more of a challenge.”
“You seem overconfident right now,” Kyra smirks, taking a glance at the questions, “Alright, first question, where am I from?”
“Queensland, and now I think… Why am I doubting myself?” You frown, taking a minute to wonder if you have got it right.
Kyra laughs, “That is where I’m from!”
“Phew, first one correct,” You wipe your forehead dramatically.
“Next one– When’s my birthday?” Kyra repeats the question aloud you’ve just answered, “You should definitely know this one, if not then… Well, I don’t think we can be friends.” She jokes.
You pretend to think about it for a second, “Yeah I’m positive I know this one cos’ we celebrated it,” You give pause for the dramatic effect, “15th February, 2002. The day after Valentine's Day. Bleugh– Shit, I’m gonna be kicking myself if it’s wrong now.”
“Monkey,” The cameraman interjects from behind, shaking his head.
You feign innocence and give him a sheepish smile, “Sorry.”
Kyra snickers at the fact you have no filter sometimes, “Nice, yeah, that’s right!” She exclaims, “You’re doing so well… You know me so well!” She retorts, playfully.
“Well I’d hope so since I’m your best friend,” You respond with an eye roll.
“Final question,” Kyra speaks up as she gazes at the last question, “Tough one– When did I make my Arsenal debut?”
“First game of the season against Liverpool,” You answer way too confidently and immediately pray it’s correct, “Right? I hope so, I was on me deathbed for that game!”
“Nailed it,” Kyra confirms, grinning.
“Yay, go me!” You fist pump the air as you do a little wiggle in celebration and the camera’s stop filming, “So, now we swap?” You clarify with the cameraman.
“Yep, that’s right,” The cameraman chimes in.
Nodding in agreement, the camera cuts while you switch positions so you’re the one stuck with the headphones, and at least the music isn’t too bad.
You can’t hear a single word that’s being said, but you’re just content to listen to the music, singing the song in your head as you do a little shimmy in your seat.
It’s times like this where you wish you could lip-read, it’s not the easiest thing to do though and your attention span wouldn’t last that long sometimes before giving up.
You can’t help but let your thoughts wander away at this current time, “Maybe I can buy more lego soon? I need to add to my collection– You can never have too much lego!”
At last, you're given the gesture of a thumbs up before removing the headphones and get up to sit on a closer chair with the slight difficulty of the boot currently on your foot.
“Was that easy for you?” You joke with your best friend.
“Piece of cake mate,” Kyra grins in response.
You pick up the cards and read over the first one, “First question, what is my favourite drink?” You read aloud, smirking as you know she definitely does know this answer.
“Energy drinks, duh? You love them!” Kyra answers with a knowing smile.
You beam a wide smile and nod, “I do, even if I’m not technically allowed them anymore— Mean Malfoy!” You joke, looking directly at the camera and scowling.
“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” Kyra jokes with a wink.
“Exactly,” You retort with a playful grin, “Alright, next question then– You should definitely know this, and if you don’t then, well, we need to rethink our friendship.” You tell her, jokingly.
“Our friendship’s on the line over this?” Kyra clutches her hand over her heart and faux’s her shock, “Well then I guess I’d better get it right. You adore both Shrek and anything Marvel related of course, and if it’s anything else then I’m not having it.”
“Ding, ding, ding, correct!” You grin, “I have watched them way too many times to count, but who cares?”
“I knew it!” Kyra exclaims, “Phew, our friendship still remains intact.” She jokes with you.
“For now, just as long as you answer the final question correctly,” You continue to wind her up, leaning in dramatically, “When did I join Arsenal?”
Kyra bites her bottom lip in hesitation, “See, this one was hard to remember, so I guessed and went with age 9, so I know you’ve been at the academy before signing the senior team...”
You shook her head in disagreement, “Want a clue?” You joke, amusedly, “Leah’s known me ever since I joined, and that was…” You pretend to count on your fingers, “11 years ago.”
“Oh!” Kyra’s eyes light up in realisation, “So, you were 8 then? I was so close!” She exclaims, throwing her hands up in the air, “You’ve known her for 11 years? That’s wild! How’s she put up with you for that long?”
“Yeah, I know it’s– Hey, that’s cruel!” The realisation hits finally and you gasp, “Speak for yourself, you’re the Aussie pest.”
“Yeah, and you’re the British Menace,” Kyra jokes, grinning at you.
“Right that does it, this friendship is… it’s under discussion,” You shake your head dramatically, continuing to play up for the camera in front of you, “Two out of three, I suppose it’s not that bad,”
“I’ll take it!” Kyra shrugs her shoulders, “The last one really threw me off!”
You grin and wrap your free arm around her, “Awh, don’t worry. We’re still besties!” You exclaim, before attempting to wrestle her down to the floor as the older girls in the background catch wind of your antics, just as the camera stops rolling.
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“Lessi is definitely the clumsy one in the team - she falls over all the time. I know that says a lot, considering I'm currently in a boot,” You say with a gleam in your eyes as a memory lights up, “Oh, oh! We have to tell them about, you know, what happened at training the other day!” You grin mischievously, already knowing the chaos you’re about to stir.
Kyra looks at you, clueless, “What happened at training?”
You snort, shaking your head in disbelief, “You don’t remember?”
“No, should I?” Kyra questions, further confused.
“Of course, yeah! About Malfoy,” You retort, a cheeky grin plastered on your face.
“Monkey, don’t you dare,” Leah warns, shooting her a look.
“I dare,” You smirk in satisfaction as you see the daunting look on Leah’s face, “You see…”
Her eyes narrow, and you can see the tension building in her jaw. Right as you're about to spill the story, Leah storms over and claps her hand over your mouth, cutting off your words so all that comes out are muffled noises, “Monkey, don’t push it,” The blonde warns in a firm tone of voice.
You roll your eyes dramatically, wiping at your mouth for emphasis, “I was just gonna get the fun bit as well, ” You shrug with an exaggerated innocence, using the advantage of your crutches  to try and keep her at bay so you can continue to yap like you wanted to do, “Anyways before I was so rudely interrupted about what I wanted to say… Oh yeah, Leah completely fell over the other day and it was hilarious to watch!”
“You’re such a menace sometimes,” Leah mutters in disbelief while shooting you a playful scowl.
“Yeah, but you still love me regardless,” You flash her an innocent smile, waving your crutch around in the air, “Come on, it’s okay to admit it that you do.” You add.
Leah arches her eyebrow in response, “It’s questionable sometimes when you come out with things like you do.”
However due to your own clumsiness you end up falling over in the process which causes Leah to instantly drop her annoyed act and immediately becomes concerned instead. 
“Oh my God,” Leah’s eyes widen as she watches you fall to the floor and rushes to help you back onto your feet, “Are you okay?” She questions.
“Ow, shit, that bloody hurt,” You grumble your profound language and completely forget that there’s still a camera rolling so that’s something the media team will have to work on editing out again, “Clearly I’m not stable on my feet, like I thought I was.” You continue to grumble, accepting Leah’s hand to help you up off the floor as you hiss in slight pain.
Leah tuts and shakes her head, her previous annoyance completely forgotten about now, “You really do need to be more careful,” She chides in a gentle tone of voice, “Or you’re going to make things worse for yourself my girl.”
“Yeah,  yeah I know, you don’t need to remind me,” You huff in response and use your crutches to balance your support to save you falling on the floor again, “I’m already stuck on these crutches for what feels like the foreseeable.”
“Exactly, that’s more of a reason to be careful little miss clumsy,” Leah retorts, once she’s made sure you’re okay before she takes the chance to rip into you a bit for your usual clumsiness.
Rolling your eyes in response, “Speak for yourself when you’re the one that fell over at training the other day.” You chip in again as she flash her a cheeky smile.
“Menace,” Leah murmurs now rolling her own eyes.
It’s only now that you realise the whole interaction has been filmed, “Wait… Was the camera still filming, like all of that?” You question.
“Yep,” A member of the media team responds in agreement.
“Urgh,” You let out an exasperated groan and shove your head in your hands, “Great, everyones’ gonna see my clumsiness. Fuck sakes.”
“Monkey,” Leah chides, shooting you a stern look, “Language.”
“English,” You reply while trying to feign your innocence, “Right, shit yeah, no swearing in front of the cameras. Noted…”
“Monkey, you did it again,” Kyra snickers in amusement.
Smiling in realisation, you look at the media time guiltily, “Whoops. I did it again, didn’t I? My bad.” You apologise to them, scratching the back of your head awkwardly, “I guess you guys’ are gonna have a fair bit to edit, eh? Well at least we keep things lively around here!”
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© scribblesofagoonerr
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crimson-and-clover-1717 · 3 days ago
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Ed’s Initial Intentions regarding Stede
Thank you so much for your attention to the poll. The consensus is it’s complicated - and I sort of agree - although I’m swayed towards Fascination alone.
This is my interpretation…
Stede causes Ed to access hidden or denied parts of himself before they’ve even met. And it causes a change in Ed’s behaviour. Ed’s come across many rich or aristocratic folks to rob whom he would see killed without issue; but not someone who’s also a pirate, doing their own original thing, and who seems ambivalent towards Blackbeard’s existence. It’s dopamine to Ed’s novelty-starved brain. It’s not as if Ed carries out a usual raid on the Revenge intending to kill Stede, only to find himself unexpectedly charmed. Ed’s bewitched even before he meets Stede, which means Ed’s entire approach and thought-processes are altered.
Killing Stede and the crew isn’t necessarily off the table should the need arise, but I don’t think it’s actively on in any capacity. There’s no plan, and there’s no ‘uszh’ for once either. Because none of this is uszh. Ed’s engagement with the Revenge is not his normal MO. History’s most brilliant tactician is free-styling. Possibly free-falling.
At the end of 102, Izzy states, ‘Captain says follow that ship.’ And Fang answers ‘Oh really? Why?’ To which Izzy replies, ‘How should I know? The man’s half-insane.’ This conversation shows this isn’t usual strategy. Even Fang asks why - he thought they’d seen the last of those ‘fancyboys’. And Ivan’s sad he didn’t get the chance to murder them, which seems the usual way of things. Plus they’d already had the chance to take or plunder the ship when it ran aground, so this stalking manoeuvre is out of the ordinary. It feels like wasted time and energy.
By the start of episode three, Blackbeard’s ship is a few hundred yards out from the Revenge, and Izzy’s trying to manipulate Ed into usual strategy again by suggesting opening fire, or boarding and throwing the Revenge crew to the sharks. Instead, Ed wants to wait until they make landfall and invite them aboard his ship. Ed’s doing something very different again because he’s unwittingly engaging with an unfamiliar part of himself. And interestingly ‘Go suck eggs in Hell’ appears not to insult, but to somewhat seduce him further. Before meeting Stede, he’s already out of his depth emotionally, and acting out of character, literally.
Despite what Ed would do normally, I just cannot see him landing on the Revenge with the active intent of plundering the ship and / or killing Stede and the crew. His words and actions suggest he’s already through the looking-glass.
So, to The Plan. We have three interesting moments which lead up to its revelation: the clothes swap, ‘careful of your face’ and ‘show me the ways of an aristocrat’.
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For me, the three strands, which have no previous connection (other than Ed and Stede playing together), come together in Ed’s mind somewhere between Ed leaving Stede on the lookout, and Ed speaking with Izzy below: a matter of seconds. It reminds me of Keyser Söze in The Usual Suspects, pulling together disparate ideas into a cohesive story spontaneously. It’s the mind of a quick-thinker. And it’s in-keeping with Ed’s ability of reacting in the moment to the moment when necessary.
I think Ed also feels forced to perform Blackbeard for Izzy because Izzy’s threatening to leave pushes on that white father-figure emotional bruise. At this stage, Ed doesn’t have enough emotional loyalty to Stede to not voice such a plan; whilst his identity is still too caught in Izzy’s web to let him go - ‘you’re needed here’. For me, the plan to kill Stede is brought about in the moment via an act of psychological coercive control.
But Ed’s also kicking the can down the road. It’s a sort of Faustian bargain. Why not promise Izzy both their souls if it means Ed and Stede can hang out a little longer? Yet on another level Ed’s possibly hoping the debt won’t be called in, such is the complexity of the push and pull here. He’s putting it on the tab, the never-never. He’ll out-manoeuvre it if he decides that’s what he wants. Of course there’s doublethink going on because Ed’s in the middle of an identity crisis.
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Ed daren’t admit his real reason for wanting to stay on the Revenge. He can’t comprehend himself even how deep this goes. His look as he turns is one of exhaustion and confusion. Stede Bonnet has him rattled. What started as a trickle of unease and ennui before they’d even met is now a whirlpool of unidentifiable feelings around both Stede, and Ed’s own perception of self.
Ed’s free-falling in liminal space.
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estaticheart · 3 hours ago
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ᥫ᭡. WAIT FOR YOUR LOVE
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Summary: You find out about Sarah's pregnancy and so does someone else.
Warnings: literally nothing
A/n: thank you for anon for this idea!
JJ Maybank was a liability to most on this island, kook or pogue. If JJ found out about something at 10am, you best believe the whole island would know by noon. It wasn’t necessarily his fault, he had a big mouth that just happened to slip out information even if he didn’t mean to. Which is exactly how you found out about Sarah’s pregnancy.
Just as you were minding your business, sunbathing on the yacht, and waiting for Rafe to come back with some drinks on the hottest day of the year, you spotted JJ and Pope walking along the dock. Nosy as ever, you effortlessly shifted back from their view, curious to hear their conversation. Chances were it would be about Kie or their new treasure- but gossip was gossip.
“I just still can’t believe it, man. A kid? What the hell are we going to do?” Your jaw dropped at JJ’s words. A kid? JJ and Kie having a kid, was not something you expected to happen. You knew they definitely had something between them, but having a child was a big step to take. You grabbed your phone eager to tell Rafe, of course with strict instructions to slow his return to the yacht.
But as you began to type out a message Pope’s voice began, “We? It’s not our kid JJ, and as far as I’m concerned Sarah and John B are gonna be the best parents we know.”
Sarah and John B.
Your heart thudded in your chest, dropping your phone onto the couch cushions you resided on. You had only seen Sarah a few days ago as you defended her honour against Ruthie and her minions. She hadn’t looked pregnant at all but when you thought back you remembered seeing John B’s hands on her stomach, caressing. Oh my god, she is pregnant.
Your sister-in-law was pregnant, with a pogues baby, fuck me was Rafe about to lose his shit. But you? You were proud, it takes a lot of courage to decide to keep the baby and you knew Pope was right- they’d be the best parents ever.
Minutes later, Pope and JJ disappeared from the harbour and Rafe returned, arms full of all the drinks you like. “Hey baby, I didn’t know what you wanted so I got everything.” He laughed, attempting to place them all down on the table without dropping any. Your mind was far too busy to reply, so you stifled out a laugh. But of course, your boyfriend didn’t miss a thing. Frowning, he looked at you curled into a ball on the seats of the top deck.
“You okay?” He asked, concern coating his face as he took up his seat next to you. His arm around your shoulders settled some of the worry in your brain- but not all. “Yeah, I’m okay. Think the sun is just getting to me that’s all.” You attempted to joke, strategically pushing your body into your boyfriend’s embrace to avoid any more questioning. Convinced you were fine, Rafe stood up, “I’ll go get you some sunscreen. You need to stay protected.”
Protected. Your mind was catapulted back to Sarah. So as Rafe walked down to the deck below, you pulled out your phone again.
1:42pm
Just found some old pics of us as kids, you should come over and see them. We need to catch up Mrs Routledge!!
——————
"Oh my God." Sarah giggles, pointing at a picture of you and her in a swimming pool, with ice cream coating your wide grins. You quickly rifled through your collection of photos, acting as if you had miraculously found them as an excuse to have Sarah over. "We were so cute!" You giggled, as you flipped the photobook over to the next page to see a picture of you and Sarah holding a newborn Wheezie.
Your breath stalled for a moment, before you began to breathe normally again, hoping Sarah wouldn't notice. "Wow." She breathed out, tracing over Wheezie's face as her eyes glazed over with admiration. You weren't going to push Sarah to tell you but you wanted her to know that if she needed a handout, you were there. Deciding to push the limits, "I hope I have a baby as pretty as her." You said softly, smiling at Sarah as your eyes met hers.
She knew instantly that you knew. Your eyes were soft and wide, waiting for her to admit what you already knew. "You know, don't you." She whispered, her hands still hovering over the picture. You nodded, reaching over to take her shaking hands in yours.
For a moment you sat in silence, it wasn't awkward but peaceful. "I love you, Sarah. Whatever you, John B and the baby need I'm here." She nodded, eyes beginning to tear up. When you first started dating Rafe she was scared she would lose you to him, but you had been an anchor in her life, a big sister she never had. She knew she had the pogues support, but to have you behind her meant so much more.
"I'm scared." She feebly admitted, dragging her eyes down to your connected hands before continuing on. "What if they hate me or I'm a bad mom?" You shook your head adamantly, if there was one thing you knew for a fact it was that Sarah would be a good mother. "You could never be a bad mom. Remember when you were 7, I was older but had fallen and grazed my knee? I was a crybaby but even at 7 you knew how to clean it and put a bandage on. Those instincts don't leave you." By the end, your eyes were full of tears too. "Will you help me?" She muttered.
You nodded enthusiastically, "Of course. Sarah whatever you need I'll be here. You are my best friend before I'm Rafe's girlfriend. If you want me to go shopping with you I will. Or go to your appointments, I will. And if you want to keep this a secret, we can."
"Keep what a secret?" Rafe suddenly spoke, he wasn't in the room but you could hear him walking over to the lounge. Sarah's eyes enlarged in fear, you had promised her Rafe was out the whole day. Unbeknownst to you, he had finished his work in a hurry, eager to get back to you. You lunged over to the coffee table slamming the photobook shut, Rafe wasn't an idiot and you didn't want him putting him two and two together before Sarah was ready.
By the time he reached the lounge, you and Sarah had quickly wiped your eyes but it would be obvious to anyone what had happened. His eyes widened as he saw Sarah next to you on the couch. He obviously knew you two had a special connection and often went out whether it was for coffee or to the beach. But it had been ages since he had seen you two together in his house. "What's going on?" He asked, still unmoving from his position.
You glanced over at Sarah, who was staring at her brother. Normally, her eyes were full of hate and anger at Rafe but you noticed a new look in her eye. Full of emotion and sadness. You began to ramble a reason for Sarah's visit and also your 'secret', "Just some gossip with Pope and Cleo. You know they always made sense to me, Pope was always really quiet he needed someone more outspoken, you know? I think they really match, but there is just some stuff going on- but obviously, it's our secret can't just be telling anyone. Bu-"
Amid your rambling, Sarah spoke, "I'm pregnant Rafe." The air in the room warmed instantly to you, your shirt clinging to you as you waited anxiously for Rafe's next words. You hoped your boyfriend would sense that Sarah needed all the support she could get regardless of who it came from. You hoped for once he could see past his misguided anger at his little sister.
"What?" He finally muttered out, although it wasn't the response you hoped for it was better than the string of curse words you were expecting. Sarah waited for a brief second before nodding, moving her hands to let Rafe see her small- but visible- bump. Eyes full of emotion, he followed her motion. His baby sister. Pregnant. And despite them having mountains of unresolved trauma to work through, he felt an instinct to protect her baby, and weirdly of all, Sarah too. He finally moved from his frozen stance walking over to you both on the couch.
"Can I?" He asked gesturing at her stomach. Seemingly hesitant, Sarah waited a moment before nodding slowly her eyes never leaving Rafe's hands as he tentatively placed them on her bump. You watched on, trying not to cry at the sight of the two people you loved the most connecting once more. They had problems to solve and conversations to have but at this moment, it was like everything had fallen back into place. "It's only small," Sarah whispered, desperate to not disturb the peace. She had never seen her brother so quiet and attentive.
"I can't believe it. I'm lost for words." Their eyes met, both of the Cameron siblings thinking the same thing, everything would work itself out. But in the back of Rafe's mind lingered one thing, his own want and longing for a baby of his own.
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vidavalor · 2 days ago
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Hi @masnadies & friends! I don't really have a literal map, just an idea of where I think things are from what we've seen in S1 & S2. I love @mochacoffee's map & think that it makes sense that a ton of the space in the upstairs rotunda is shelves of books-- particularly, the bit visible from the main part of the shop downstairs-- but also that there are rooms up there, as we saw in S2. Aziraphale designed the shop as a space for him and Crowley so I think there's actually a lot of intentionality behind it. I've had some thoughts on this for awhile so I hope you all don't mind me sharing them here.
Some ideas on what rooms might exist and where they might be in the shop, how the threshold/invites work based on what we've seen, and what new room in the shop I would bet is going to be in The Finale. Also, what the story purpose in making the shop mysterious enough that we're having these conversations might be.
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Design-wise, I think that the whole interior of the bookshop is built to look to any angels that might enter the front door like it's nothing but a bookshop that is a cover for the angelic embassy. Aziraphale only has the embassy so he can have the bookshop, which is really a cover for having as close to a house as Aziraphale had been able to manage while being a working angel. The way they are using the bookshop as a metaphor for Aziraphale (and for Crowley and Aziraphale) and its design tells us a lot about Aziraphale and his relationship with Crowley. What we have been allowed to glimpse of the bookshop-- and when, and in what order-- is very much intentional and part of both the design of the story and pf Aziraphale's design of the shop, imho.
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In S1, the show uses the bookshop metaphor for Aziraphale by focusing more on Crowley's relationship with the bookshop than on Aziraphale's relationship with it. Each episode gives us more and more information regarding what level of access Crowley has to the shop that is symbolically Aziraphale as a way of slowly showing the audience the depth of the intimacy of his and Aziraphale's relationship.
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In 1.01, we see Crowley feel safe for the first time in the episode when he and Aziraphale are in the bookshop. We see him on his couch, their familiar setup and being able to speak freely and have some privacy in the shop. Crowley's glasses come off for the first time in the minisode. It's the setting of the bookshop that helps to establish how close they are from the jump of the story. Each subsequent episode, though, begins to unfold that even more.
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When the shop goes on fire, we find the doors will open for Crowley-- basically, that he has a key to Aziraphale's place. When Crowley goes back to the shop in Aziraphale's body during the body swap, we see him able to identify which books in the shop weren't there before Adam adjusted reality-- telling us that he spends so much time in the bookshop that he knows every detail of it. When he meets Aziraphale in the park afterwards, he tells Aziraphale that the bookshop is just as it was, with not a single smudge and everything in the same places that they always were.
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While we just saw Crowley on the ground floor of the bookshop, this comment-- delivered while he's literally in Aziraphale's body, for fun symbolism-- is saying that Crowley has unfettered access to the entire bookshop and knows the whole place so well that he knows everything in it, everywhere, by heart, and could tell if anything was amiss in the shop. He knows his way around every room in the bookshop and has permission to go into any of them that he wants because they're basically his, too.
So... Crowley, while in the midst of the sexual metaphor that is the body swap, is seen telling Aziraphale that he went through their entire house and everything is fine, and this is not a conclusion that Crowley could have drawn without having gone into Aziraphale's bedroom-- and without being familiar enough with it to be able to tell if anything is amiss. This is the end of the steady progression of information about Crowley and the bookshop throughout S1 and it comes when they're in each other's bodies, ahead of the romantic Ritz finale.
In S2, we start to see a little more of the shop but what of it we see is reflective of the conflicts happening in the story, as it would be, right? First, we find out what's behind the door of the room behind Aziraphale's desk that remained closed in S1 and it's a subtle but potent reveal-- it's a room being used like a massive storage closet.
It's Aziraphale's actual backroom, not the office to which he brought Gabriel and Sandalphon in S1, which is built to be a place to which he can bring a visiting angel. This backroom is painted the color of Crowley's eyes and is a hodgepodge of random things that are being stored back here without a shred of the structure of the rest of the shop. While Aziraphale's bookshop is cluttered in a good way, that isn't what's happening in the backroom we see in S2. There's an open privacy screen in the corner that seems to be blocking off nothing. There's furniture and books just kind of pushed into the room-- random lamps. A chair just kinda stuck in there near the door. It's a storage unit, basically, and not a room that is in use, and it looks like it's holding things in limbo for a future that may or may not happen. It's stuff that belongs to he and Crowley that neither want to give away but that neither have room for in their lives at the moment. It's a total holding pattern of a room and Muriel bursting into it is literally the (literal) closet door being broken down by the supernatural cops, right?
In S1, the bookshop itself is essentially their closet but, as the supernatural characters like Gabriel and Muriel keep pushing further into the shop in S2, even as Crowley and Aziraphale wind up stopping hiding their relationship in S2, in the first half of it, we have this closet room representing them trying to try to find a space to talk openly in their own house during the chaotic week they're having.
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Then, we see use of the home bar space in 1941 a bit, and this one is really interesting. While we saw this space in the present in S1 while Aziraphale was trying to figure out how to tell Gabriel about the antichrist kid mix up, now we see Crowley and Aziraphale using it and see that this table that Aziraphale keeps clutter on during the open hours is basically the dining room of the bookshop. It's positioned so that it's not in direct view from the front door of the bookshop-- just like how Crowley's couch is tucked away from immediate view of the door by the bookshelves.
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If you look at the front of the shop-- everything between the front door and the cash register counter-- it actually does look like a little bookshop in its own right. The display tables and shelves and stacks of books along the wall. These are probably the books that Aziraphale can part with, if he absolutely must lol, and is really the only part of the shop that is truly the bookshop. Pretty much this bit below and the bookshelves where Crowley pulled the Jane Austen book that is on our right out of sight below:
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Because the bookshop is metaphorically Aziraphale, I'm of the opinion that, technically, basically anyone can theoretically get through the front door. Humans are obviously kept away by locks and closed signs and restricted to business hours (whatever Aziraphale feels those are at any given moment lol.) The supernatural characters, though... The threshold, as Shax discovered in S2, is not actually the front door. Likely symbolic of how Aziraphale will give anyone a chance. The threshold is proven in both seasons to be the cash register counter-- the point at which what is meant to look entirely like a bookshop is really becoming Aziraphale's house, whether it seems that way to others or not. But, still, it means everyone can theoretically get into the entryway, right?
So, how do Crowley and Aziraphale have any privacy if the supernatural beings can all get through the front door?
Because they have found a way to exploit the angels and demons' dislikes of one another to get it.
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Technically, the bookshop is an angelic space and an angel could demand entry to it and there's nothing Aziraphale could do but allow them to go wherever they wanted. This is the one weak spot because, while the demons won't want to deal with an angelic space and will just stay away, the angels are a different matter. Even if they cannot get past the cash register area without an invite, they need to believe like they have control over the space in order for Aziraphale to be able to keep it. So, why do the angels frequently turn up at the door asking to be let in, even if the vibes are very much that they feel it's sort of dumb that they have to ask and Aziraphale knows he has to say yes? Why don't they just go through the door?
Aziraphale out-psyched them, basically.
He told Heaven the truth-- the threshold to the shop is not the door but the cash register counter-- but he also told them that they were all going to make sure that the demons in Hell thinks the threshold is the front door. He told them that this is how they'll keep the embassy secure because, it being an embassy, they might have to allow a demon in during the daylight for spiritual counseling towards the light (the excuse for Crowley being seen sometimes entering the shop during business hours) but they can't just let a demon have unfettered access to a heavenly space-- that would be unseemly!
So, that's Aziraphale's argument for the threshold in the first place-- he needs control over the embassy space in order to protect it for Heaven and not just let these demons wander around in it unchecked. But he's made it so that Heaven thinks they're getting one over on Hell by making them think they're all in on the joke but that, for security purposes, they need to keep up the charade. They've all been told that they're supposed to go to the door for an invitation so that, if any demons are watching the place, they won't get suspicious that the door isn't really the threshold.
Crowley is keeping this going with the demons in S2, as well, when he leads Shax to think that the threshold is the door before she figures out he's lying during the bookshop attack. He also lies about his ability to invite people in, implying that only Aziraphale can, which we see later is untrue. Technically, anyone that Aziraphale has invited in can invite in other people behind them, which is how Maggie ended up inviting in all of the demons during the bookshop attack, and also why Crowley reminds Gabriel not to let anyone in when he rushes out of the shop after Shax while Aziraphale is in Edinburgh.
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So, Aziraphale basically told Heaven that they all would know the truth, of course, that the threshold was the cash register but that they all wouldn't want the demons to find that out, right? That wouldn't be a very secure embassy. They need the demons to think that it's the same rules for everyone. Aziraphale's gotten them all to play along by making them go to the door and ask to be invited in, even though they could, technically, get in the front door and up to the cash register without an invitation. He's basically found a way to make them all ring the doorbell by exploiting their own prejudices against the demons.
This is shot now because, when Crowley and Aziraphale backed all the humans up into the living room, behind the cash wrap, Shax figured out that the door wasn't the threshold and tested her theory on poor Mr. Brown of Brown's World of Carpets, basically proving what we saw back in S1 when Gabriel and Sandalphon showed up.
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They arrived when the shop was open and Aziraphale was busy inside with basically the only time in the series he has ever had customers lol and so there was no reason for Gabriel and Sandalphon to need to be invited in at the door because the shop was in normal business hours and it was Gabriel who was there. The rules of the other angels and demons wouldn't be seen as applying to him-- but they both did need an invitation to go any further than the cash wrap. Aziraphale brought them into his back office, which is a room he was willing to sacrifice to visiting angels as a way of seeming totally transparent and keeping them from wanting to search through the rest of the shop.
But, anyway, I think this is why the shop is built the way it is-- it's a house that is designed to pass as a bookshop so it can pass as an embassy-passing-as-a-bookshop, so that it can exist. Aziraphale has never really wanted to run a bookshop; he just wanted his books and a safer, home-like place he and Crowley could be together in. It's a bookshop just because Aziraphale has so many books and that made it the best cover for the fact that it's not really much of a shop at all-- just the front part of it is and Aziraphale has to fight to keep anyone from trying to buy any of the books that are in the other 95% of the shop, all of which are really his and/or Crowley's.
It's set up so that if the angels ever are just inside the front door before the cash wrap--or if they go only into the backroom where Aziraphale brings Gabriel and Sandalphon in S1-- that they're basically just seeing what looks like a bookshop. If they look up into the second-floor rotunda from near the door or most places on the ground floor, they just see a second floor of shelves of books that they can presume that Aziraphale is selling to the humans. It's not until we go up there with the characters in S2 that we see rooms exist up there... tucked out of sight from below. The further we press into the shop and the more we go around corners, the more we see that its design is intentionally attempting to hide what the real purpose of the bookshop is.
Aziraphale and Crowley cannot trust that there won't be some night when, idk, Sandalphon or Michael or somebody decides to just suddenly appear in the front part of the shop instead of knocking at the door. If they did, they wouldn't be able to physically go any further than the cash register counter-- but they could see into the shop from there. That seems factored into Aziraphale's design of the shop.
Aziraphale built it so that if he and Crowley were having dinner or wine at the table in the bar area like they were in 1941, Part 2 or if they were cuddled up on Crowley's couch, that they're around corners or otherwise obstructed from view enough that it gives them the opportunity to not get immediately caught should an angel blow past the established norms of entry and show up in the front part of the bookshop. The table in the home bar and Crowley's couch are both positioned so that a person cannot directly see them from the front door of the shop, which would buy them both time should someone show up in the shop. The place is built to make it so that no one can get past the cash register counter threshold and, even if they get past the door and into that space without Crowley or Aziraphale realizing it, they likely won't catch Crowley in the shop, no matter what time of day they show up.
So, the main floor bookshop space is visible to everyone but rooms that are more personal or that are hiding something from Heaven just by existing are buried a bit further into the shop or behind a door that has been right there the whole time but that the show is taking longer to open.
It wasn't until S2 that we saw into the private room in the back-- the closet, as the two of them were kind of trying to come out of it when it came to their relationship. It's also not until then that we get to go upstairs and, when we do, see that the spots that you cannot see directly from the door below have rooms. This is Aziraphale's private residence and even this? Is mostly set up to be able to deflect, should Heaven ever get up here. Have a real look at Gabriel's completely bizarre room here:
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This is the unused bedroom of the bookshop, really-- not Aziraphale's actual one. It looks like a messy monk lives in here. One the size of a hobbit, apparently, because that bed could not get any smaller. This room exists basically in case Sandalphon ever shows up and demands a tour. Here's Aziraphale's room that he can claim he never really uses and just has for pretense or in case there's an emergency and someone needs to lie down. Nothing to see here, Stasi-a-Fond, just my tiny, dollhouse bed that I absolutely cannot fit in on my own, let alone with that six feet of legs demon! Jim's bedroom is as much of a closet as the back room downstairs is.
So, what lives down the little hallway on the ground floor, back out of sight? And, even better, what is the room at the top of the stairs to the left of Gabriel's bedroom? We were shown this door but it remained closed for all of S2. It is to S2 what the closed back room that we saw in S2 was to S1-- this door we saw a few times and then went into in the next bit of story.
Given its location in the shop-- conveniently at the top of the stairs and beside another bedroom-- it's likely that this is Aziraphale's bedroom. Unlike many, I think that Aziraphale does sleep. (I'm pretty sure Gabriel is wearing Aziraphale's pajamas in that "Jim's Mug" scene in S2.) Regardless of his sleep habits, though, he has other uses for a bedroom and I don't think it's collecting dust.
There are also some spaces in the vicinity of Jim's room that I think could be a bathroom, which Aziraphale could claim is necessary for customers, as you all have said above. Do his customers need the likely nice shower and that probable clawfoot tub? 😂 Not exactly, but Aziraphale likely would say fuck it and figure he'll come up with something if Heaven finds out. He can tell Michael he's baptizing people up there or something. I think that the lure of bath time with The Serpent is likely too strong to pass up.
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We know there's a kitchen in there that Aziraphale was using for the literal portion of his baking in during Lockdown, which I think is probably what's located if you keep going past the private room and the home bar into that unseen space. See from where Aziraphale emerges in the bit below?
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Nina, Maggie & Gabriel follow him into the room afterwards and they all seem to be coming from some place down the little corridor that leads further back into the shop. I'm pretty sure that's where the kitchen is. I think that's also the direction from which Aziraphale came when he brought Muriel tea in S2 as well. I'm sure it's very warm and cozy but I have a sneaking suspicion that it'd be a room we'd find surprising in its organization. It would be one of the rooms in the house that makes it pretty clear that Crowley spends a lot of time in the shop. I wouldn't be surprised if there are some-- gasp!-- plants in there-- potted culinary herbs, probably. He likes to cook for them sometimes.
I don't think it'd be super-necessary to show the kitchen but I actually think there's a chance we still might see it in The Finale largely because of the fact that I think we're going to flash back to the aftermath of Aziraphale blowing up his halo and briefly see some of what went down between then and the next morning-- namely, the convo with The Metatron that Aziraphale says the next morning took place, and the aftermath of that. If we go back to that night, we could see Aziraphale, Gabriel, Nina & Maggie talking in the kitchen. They also might cut that bit of it for the film but, either way, that's the area where it seems to me like the kitchen might be-- hidden pretty deep in the back of the shop, suggested to us but completely out of sight of Heaven.
If we consider that the bookshop is being rolled out to us slowly and in an intentionally incomplete way so far in support of a story that is doing the same... and if we then ask what big rooms remain that we haven't yet seen? There's really only the kitchen and Aziraphale's bedroom.
So, what haven't we seen in the bookshop yet ahead of The Finale?
The kitchen and Aziraphale's bedroom... food and sex. 😉 Not really terribly dissimilar things to these two...
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It's been there all along but, as the story hits its end game, I think they'll likely reveal it a little more directly and, if they keep going with the way they've been using the bookshop to tell the story so far, they're going to use going into the previously unseen bedroom in the bookshop to do it. The one, new room we're getting for sure in The Finale is Aziraphale's bedroom-- likely circa 1941. It'll be clear that while it's the first time we're seeing it, it's a space with which Crowley is already plenty familiar.
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Then, off to their South Downs Cottage where they can finally just have their own damn house without all of these shenanigans.
Speaking of the bookshop, theories on what could be upstairs?
ooooo the BIG QUESTION.
so we can see a bit of the second floor in all these pics:
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basically all we know for sure is there are A LOT MORE BOOKS, both stacked around the railing and on the circle of shelves. neil has decided not to comment on what else might be there (YET 👀) but he’s confirmed that much.
apart from that, we can see from the outside that there are six windows on the second floor:
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i’m going to assume they’re part of the shop because they’re Very On Fire when the rest of the shop is on fire. SO. taking all that into account, you end up with something like this:
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where the thin grey circle is the railing and the brown one is the bookshelves (as you can see in the first pic, it doesn’t circle all the way around!)
the rest is a complete mystery. i mean i’m sure the actual set was empty because they didn’t need to fill it, but in theory there’s room for some interesting stuff! with the first floor for scale i can imagine a whole flat built around that circle of shelves — a bed aziraphale never sleeps in, comfy chairs, every other angel knick-knack he’s encountered in his life. in my personal headcanon it’s all books and hoarded items covered in dust, which he leaves for authenticity.
thank you for asking!! i’d love to hear other people’s thoughts if they want to share :)
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mythalism · 20 hours ago
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Wait.. so when anon said we traded a few thousand deaths for millions in southern Thedas, are they suggesting that lifting the veil would only cause a few thousand deaths ?
IIRC from what Solas says In trespasser and later shown in the DAV artbook (showing what would happen if rook fails to stop Solas and Solas successfully removes the veil), then taking down the veil was supposed to lead to widespread death across all thedas at minimum OR just straight up kill everyone except the ancient elves.
If it comes down to numbers then losing southern Thedas is still less than what they would've lost if Solas lifted the veil.
However, I still think we should've seen the veil getting removed. If not as the true ending then at least as a game over / fail state in the game. It's been years building up to this moment so at least show us what would happen!
the games have been dodgy and inconsistent about exactly the level of casualty the falling of the veil would cause. based on what solas says in trespasser, i always interpreted "the death of your world" or whatever to be more metaphorical as in the death of the world as we know it, a complete change in reality, a permanent change in peoples way of life, a dissolution of current beliefs and systems, etc. maybe that was me giving both solas and bioware too much credit LMAO. i never really thought of it as "literally everyone is going to die because demons".
but veilguard really did lean into this interpretation (snore.... boring!) with what we see in the prologue. rook also does confront solas in one conversation and estimates the deaths at "hundreds? thousands?" and im pretty sure solas affirms that it would be in the thousands, but that the deaths would be on his conscience. i think they went this route to justify why it was going to stay up in the end, but imo its bad, lazy, and completely contradicts everything we learn in trespasser. literally the point of trespasser is to show us the horrible catastrophe that the veils existence caused in the first place.
solas's decision to bring down the veil and kill "thousands" as collateral damage from demons is not just being weighed against the collateral damage cause by the blight in the south and the evanuris's interference across thedas, he is weighing it against the mortality of every single elf that has ever lived and ever will live, the life of every spirit corrupted into a demon both in the past and forever (something we know he considers to be a fate worse than death, according to his memory of his battle where he sacrificed spirits) and the life of every single mage lost to demonic position, both now and forever. he is also not weighing it in terms of literal deaths, but general suffering. the veil is also responsible for the enslavement and poverty of all elves, on top of their mortality. its responsible for the existence of the mage circles, every single abuse that occurs within them, and every single mage tranquilized. its actually ridiculously unequal. solas literally invented death. of course a few thousand more lives are meaningless to him? what is a few thousand against the literal millions already on his head? trespasser makes this clear as we walk through the vir'dirthara and witness the final memories of the elves that were crushed under falling buildings throughout the empire. veilguard..... hopes we forget that part.
its truly the most cranked to the max, fantasy version of the trolley problem. i think the question pre-veilguard was intended to be analogous to anders decision to blow up the chantry to incite the mage rebellion. its not necessarily should you pull the lever and direct the trolley, or even if the ends justify the means. i think it was intended to be about whether or not he himself had the right to make that decision for the rest of the world, especially considering he is Pride manifested. its less about the cost-benefit analysis of mass casualties to create major societal change and more about an exploration of the things that drive people to the point of such radical action. why did anders feel he had no choice but to blow up the chantry? why did solas feel he had no choice but put up the veil? why does he feel he has no choice to tear it back down? what has driven him to be able to make such impossibly awful moral decisions with such callous ease? and the answer to both is that they were pushed to the limit by the evils their societies were committing. were they right to respond with further, indiscriminate violence? no, of course not. but its a story. we can sympathize with the way they were pushed to the edge and lost themselves in the process.
it comes back to the dehumanization of leadership theme that is all over inquisition and has foundations in veilguard that are never actually realized. solas literally tells rook they never had what it takes to make the sacrifices that leadership requires. and its kind of presented as a villain monologue but HES RIGHT? rook barely makes any difficult decisions in comparison to the inquisitor or solas, even the sacrifice of a single city is a drop in the bucket compared to what solas has done, and rook does it without question and with little remorse. a decision had to be made, and they made it. just like he did.
inquisition was all about how leadership or participation within a corrupt institution makes monsters of us all. leliana struggles with the callous killer she's become at divine justinia's behest (actually a wonderful parallel for solas x mythal now that i think about it), bull has to struggle to unlearn the teachings of the qun by choosing his friends over his duty to his people, cassandra grapples with the horrible truth of the seekers and vows to reform them, thom rainier confronts his literal war crime and accepts responsibility for not just killing a family, but for ordering others to carry it out and bloodying their hands in the process. the INQUISITOR is forced to SIT IN JUDGEMENT and possibly SENTENCE PEOPLE TO DEATH OR TORTURE FOR THEIR CRIMES. what gives them the right?????? divine approval from andraste???? what about when you find out thats all a lie and continue to proliferate the rumor anyway because its politically helpful???? what about in hushed whispers? when the inquisitor destroys an entire world to return to their own without a second thought? its wrong, bad, it should never have existed. you erase it from existence without a single thought towards all the lives that will cease to exist and not one of your companions bats an eyelash. what gave you the right to erase that world? what if the people living in it really liked it? you wouldn't know, you didnt ask anyone other than leliana. i truly am starting to believe that veilguard was designed to deliver on this and then had to pivot for whatever reason (EA perhaps, according to those tweets). the natural conclusion to this story would have been the veil coming down, but not by solas's decision alone, or by him at all. even if you are right, you cannot change the world alone, or the process will break you. you cannot make decisions that weigh the lives of millions without losing your humanity in the process. we saw it happen to anders. ghost-varric even has a line about this in veilguard where he says something about solas seeing his attachments as a weakness, when really they are a strength. the lesson solas needed to learn was not that the veil should actually stay up and he should move on, but that only gods made decisions like the fate of the world, and as he always says, he is not a god. there could have been a better way, if he trusted those around him. the regret demon in the callback actually says this nearly verbatim, which is part of the reason i think this was the original intention. i genuinely think the plan was that the veil would come down but by rook's hand and that the good endings would have involved using your faction connections to figure out how to take the veil down safely and build a new thedas, without the veil but also without the elvhen empire of old bc that shit sucked. it would have taken the entire world coming together to figure out the best way forward, and would have freed solas from the burden of leadership that was actively polluting his spirit into pride, while teaching him the value of teamwork, as cheesy as that sounds. this also is the fufillment of his role as a trickster god - he needs to catalyze ragnarok. i genuinely think this was the original intention because it is so obvious in his writing its insane LMFAO. but him not being the one to usher in that change would be another way to release him from the mantle of trickster god that he didnt want in the first place. the bad ending could have been that without faction and community support, you aren't able to find a peaceful way to bring it down and rook, in a moment of desperation, ends up sowing the same violence and destruction that solas did, the perfect mirror. the lesson should have been that such foundational change and dissolving our current structures is terrifying, but we can build a better world - together, not alone.
its crazy to me to think that legend of korra book 4 pulled this off with opening the spirit portals and dragon age failed to LMFAOOOO.
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brokenmenswhore · 3 hours ago
Note
A part three to proposition please 🙏
holy SHIT you guys you’re all FIENDS
a proposition: exploration | poly!marauders
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pairing: poly!marauders x fem!reader (james, remus, and sirius, featuring alecto, dorcas, evan, lily, and mary)
warnings: smut (MDNI 18+)
a/n: i really hope this was worth the wait, thank you for your patience <3
a proposition: masterlist
────── ☾ ──────
“Morning!”
The group at the Gryffindor table turned their heads toward you.
“Morning,” Remus responded, twisting his body to see you standing directly behind him.
“You guys mind if I sit with you?”
“Not at all, gorgeous,” Remus flirted, patting the spot to his right as he took another bite of french toast.
You blushed as you sat down, smiling to everyone else at the table as a greeting.
As you settled in, the group continued the conversation they were having about upcoming exams. Being a year below them, you didn’t have much to offer, and you were growing bored.
You leaned over toward Remus, confidence beaming due to your desire for attention as you whispered, “thank you for yesterday. You were really nice to me.”
Remus turned his attention away from the group as he looked at you, smiling, “of course, but there’s no need to thank me. It was a pleasure.”
His flirtations made you blush. You thought about how funny it was that he had literally fucked you, yet one little comment made your heart putty in his hands.
You were blushy and giggly like a schoolgirl with a crush, completely unable to control yourself. “I’m glad it was a pleasure.”
Remus smiled even wider, catching onto your antics. “I fucked you once and now you’re in a mood, huh?” he teased.
“Maybe.”
Remus looked around the table, who still hadn’t noticed his absence from the conversation, and he took your hand, leaving his seat and subsequently pulling you up to a stand.
“We’ll be back,” Remus said.
“No no no,” James said, “no, that’s not fair.”
“What’s not fair?” Remus asked.
“Mate, you’re the only one here who’s been with her, and it was last night. Keep it in your pants, we’re literally at breakfast,” James pouted.
“Can’t help it when she asks,” Remus smiled.
You blushed even harder, ducking your head behind Remus’s shoulder in embarrassment.
The table gave up on fighting Remus. James turned back around with a sigh and continued eating and chatting, as did everyone at the table except for Sirius, who stayed eyeing you until you were out of view.
Remus pulled you down a few hallways until he found a sufficiently quiet corridor with empty classrooms.
“Remus, what if someone-“
“They never use these classrooms,” Remus said, quietly clicking the door shut, “one too many hexes, I suppose.”
“But-“
“You look so good right now.”
Your protestations died in your throat as Remus walked closer and closer to you. You took a step backward, and your lower back collided into an empty desk.
“Why so quiet all of a sudden?” Remus teased.
“You make me nervous,” you admitted without thinking.
“Yeah? Nervous how?”
“I don’t know.”
“Yeah, you do.”
“I don’t know, like, I just- I keep thinking about yesterday,” you said.
Remus began to lightly run his fingers up the side of your body. “What about it?”
“You know what about.”
“I wanna hear you say it.”
“You’re joking.”
“Nope.”
You took a deep breath. “I keep thinking about how we had sex. Happy?”
“Not quite,” Remus answered, “I wanna know what exactly about us having sex you keep thinking about.”
“I don’t know, you, I guess?”
“Me, hm?”
“Yeah.”
“You know what I keep thinking about?”
You cocked your head to the side.
“You.”
“Me?”
“Mhm,” Remus continued, “you underneath me, to be specific.”
As he spoke, Remus began to slowly pull your skirt up to your waist, causing your breathing to hitch in your throat.
“Well well well, is this all for me?”
Remus ran a finger over your underwear but still between your folds, the wetness already having soaked through the fabric, leaving an evident stain.
“Yes,” you admitted.
Remus removed his hand, instead wrapping his arms around the backs of your legs, causing you to gasp as you jumped upward. Remus moved you backward, and your ass hit the desk behind you. He took residence standing between your legs, which in turn made your skirt stay bunched up at your waist.
“Can I try something?” Remus asked.
“What do you wanna try?” you asked, your breathing heavy in anticipation from Remus’s close proximity.
“You.”
“Me what?”
“I wanna try you.”
You furrowed your brows in confusion. “You already did, we already had sex. I’m confused.”
Remus chuckled. “No, baby, I wanna taste you.”
“Oh.”
“That okay?”
“I don’t really know what that entails, but yeah.”
“You know you can always just tell me to stop, right?” Remus checked.
“Yes.”
Remus nodded at your response and sunk to his knees, looking up at you as he pushed your underwear to the side.
“What if-“
“Don’t be self conscious baby, you’re beautiful,” Remus eased your nerves, and you took a deep breath as you forced your muscles to relax.
Remus stuck his tongue out and tasted between your folds, moving slowly and gentle so as not to overstimulate you too early, and you shuddered at the contact.
Remus maintained eye contact as you watched him move his tongue up and down, tasting your evident wetness. You moaned when he flicked his tongue faster directly on your clit.
Your body jolted, and Remus made a sound of satisfaction as he continued his work on your clit, alternating between flicking you with his tongue and sucking and kissing.
“Fuck,” you sighed.
Remus reached a hand up to grab yours, intertwining your fingers with his to help steady you in a gesture of intimacy that you really appreciated.
You squeezed his hand as you became a whiny, submissive mess.
Remus’s other hand gripped the flesh of your ass that was accessible, pushing you closer to him and increasing the intensity of your pleasure.
You threw your head back, and your hand instinctively went to the back of Remus’s head, lightly pulling the strands of his hair.
You snapped out of your daze for a moment and quickly removed your hand, self conscious about the action made while you were lost in pleasure.
Remus pulled away from you. “Go for it, baby, don’t hold back.”
You knew he was intentionally calling you baby because you mentioned yesterday that you liked it, and the remembrance was only adding to your arousal.
You swallowed your self consciousness and resumed playing with Remus’s hair. He moaned into you at the feeling, clearly happy about it.
“Shit, Rem-“
Remus moved his mouth faster, desperately trying to pull an orgasm from you.
“Rem- Remmy-“
Remus pulled away for a brief moment to say, “feels so good you’re callin me nicknames now, huh?”
“S-sorry,” you stuttered.
“Uh uh, you better keep moaning little nicknames for me like that.”
You simply moaned in response, losing strength to stay sitting up as you began to lightly grind your hips against Remus’s face, so lost in pleasure you didn’t care about being embarrassed anymore.
Remus slapped the outside of your thigh, looking up at you. He decided to test the waters with you. “I said keep moaning my fucking name.”
You liked the dominance. “Yes, Remmy.”
“Good girl,” he praised, reconnecting his mouth to you and still focusing on your clit, deciding to save anything else for another time, as this was your first time doing this, and he wanted to take it slow. He knew not many of the others would.
You threw your head back, anchoring yourself with your hand on Remus’s head as your moans became louder and louder.
Remus let go of your hand and held your waist, now completely gripping your hips as he pushed you as close to him as he could.
Your high was approaching quickly, and your moans were becoming high pitched and weak.
“I’m, it’s- Remmy, I-“
Remus didn’t pull away, but instead looked up at you to watch your face as you came.
You threw your head back instinctively, your chest rapidly rising and falling as your orgasm washed over you.
Remus stayed between your legs to lap up any and all wetness, and only stood when he was satisfied.
You were trying hard to catch your breath, and Remus smiled at you. “Feel good?”
You smiled in return. “Fuck.”
Remus kissed you, and you could taste yourself on his lips.
“I’m not even hungry for breakfast anymore,” Remus joked.
────── ☾ ──────
All you could think about was Remus.
You felt like a woman possessed. You couldn’t focus in lectures because all you could think of was Remus’s head between your legs. How he sounded when he moaned into you. The way he called you baby when he fucked you. The way he runs his fingers through his messy hair. You were enamored, and you were becoming horny much more frequently than you ever imagined.
Even when you were with the group, you stayed attached to Remus. You always sat with your thigh against his, and even sometimes stood holding his arm. You were obsessed, and the group noticed.
You had just joined, and you were already completely infatuated with just one of them, and that concerned the group, so they decided to meet without you, something they rarely did, but found necessary.
“She’s absolutely obsessed with you, mate.”
Remus flicked embers from his cigarette into the ashtray in the center of the courtyard. “I don’t know what to tell you. I like her, if she wants me, I’m not gonna say no. It’s her choice who she wants.”
“Come on, guys, go easy on Y/N,” Lily said, “every girl gets a little obsessed with their first time. It’s the same way I was with James.”
“If that ain’t the truth,” James said, raising his bottle of firewhiskey.
Sirius took the opportunity to stand up and grab the raised bottle, and he downed the remainder of its contents in an instant.
“Someone else needs to fuck her,” Mary chimed in, “simple as that.”
“She’ll get there, why rush her?” Remus defended.
“Oh shut up mate, you just like having someone want you so bad,” James argued.
Remus shrugged before taking another drag of his cigarette, not completely disagreeing with James’s sentiment.
Sirius cleared his throat, and the attention of the room turned to him. In an annoyed tone, he spoke, “someone go and fuck her, then.”
“Why don’t you go find her?” Dorcas suggested to Sirius.
“Maybe I will.”
“No, no, I got this,” James said, standing up and straightening his shirt, “I know my way to the Hufflepuff common room.”
“She’s not in the common room, she’s in potions,” Sirius said.
“What, you know her schedule now?”
Sirius shrugged and rested his elbows on his knees, the wind knocking a few strands of hair in front of his face.
James threw his hands in the air. “I don’t know where the Hufflepuff potions classroom is, what do you want me to do? Fuck.”
“Just find her later. It’s not like she’s gonna fuck you in a classroom anyways,” Dorcas said.
Remus scoffed to himself, not realizing it was loud enough for the group to hear. Everyone’s gaze shot toward him.
“Sorry,” Remus smiled, clearly not sorry at all.
“Oh come on,” James said, throwing his hands up in the air, “I don’t even have a shot.”
“You’ll be fine, mate, just try manhandling her a little,” Remus said casually.
“Yeah?”
“She seemed to like the little bit I did when I tried,” Remus revealed.
By the time classes were over, you were nowhere to be seen. You hadn’t had the need to walk past the courtyard at all, but that didn’t mean James gave up. Instead, he just walked around the Hufflepuff hallways until he saw you.
“Hey Y/N!” he exclaimed when he finally caught your eye.
“Hey, James, what are you doing down here?” you said, approaching the common room door.
“Do you guys get to snatch snacks?” he asked, his inner monologue taking over as he noticed the Hufflepuff common room was extremely close to the kitchens.
“You came down here because you wanted a snack?” you asked, turning to face him.
“I guess you could say that,” he responded.
“What does that mean?”
“Shouldn’t you know now? I mean, I thought Remus took care of teaching you that already,” James smirked.
You blushed and bowed your head briefly. “He’s quick to talk, that one.”
“Why have you been so attached to him?” James asked.
You processed the question before speaking. “I don’t know, I guess I didn’t realize I had been. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, angel, no worries,” James said, stepping closer and closer to you, “I think I can help that.”
“Yeah?” you played along, “how?”
“Follow me and you’ll find out.”
You smiled as you took James’s hand, your other hand holding your books to your chest as you mindlessly followed James’s lead. You watched the muscles in his arm flex as he held onto your hand, and you felt yourself growing excited.
You were becoming attached to Remus, and you knew you had to get that out of your system. Besides, James was hot, and you were now perpetually horny, so why not indulge in a little fun?
────── ☾ ──────
“I am not going in there.”
James sighed. “C’mon, it really isn’t as scary as it looks. Promise.”
“No no, I think it is as scary as it looks,” you protested, “I’ve heard horror stories about this place, James. It’s called the Shrieking Shack for a reason.”
“Would you just trust me?” James said.
“In theory,” you responded, but still swallowed your fears and let him direct you toward the dilapidated building.
You were surprised by its contents. The interior was decorated somewhat cozy, and a large bed sat in the corner across from a warm fireplace. Lily sat on a couch facing the flames, reading for pleasure in her solitude.
“Hey, Lil, I’m sorry, we didn’t know you were out here,” James said when he spotted her.
“No worries,” Lily said, standing, “I can get going, and leave you two alone.”
She started to exit the room, but the moment she walked past James, he called out to her. “Wait. Stay.”
You turned to James, then to Lily, then back to James again. Maybe he didn’t bring you here to fuck. Maybe he really just wanted to hang out.
“Yeah? Is that alright with you, Y/N?” Lily asked.
Your gaze continued to shift between James and Lily. “I think I’m confused.”
James took a step closer to you, shifting his body behind you as he swept your hair off of one shoulder. He leaned toward your ear, whispering, “No, I don’t think you are.”
He then lightly kissed your neck, momentarily sucking on a few sensitive spots. You felt yourself lose control as your head fell backwards and your eyes closed. His lips felt like heaven against your skin.
You forgot Lily was in the room until you felt her presence in front of you. You opened your eyes but they almost instantly shut again as Lily connected her lips to yours. Your mouths moved in sync as you let yourself melt into their touches.
James’s hands ran down your sides, pushing down the garments on your lower body. You shivered as the cool air hit your now bare skin.
“Here, c’mere,” James said, directing you over to the space in between the couch and the fireplace. “Better?”
“Mhm,” you vocalized.
James studied you for a moment. He remembered what Remus has said earlier about manhandling you, and decided to take the chance. He stood in front of you and grabbed your throat, lightly squeezing his fingers as he pulled your body closer to his, your face mere inches from his. “You gonna be good?” he whispered.
“Yes,” you answered.
“Good girl,” he praised, his unoccupied hand connecting to your clit, immediately rubbing steady circles on you as he studied your expression.
Your mouth opened and you tried to moan, but the pressure around your throat meant every noise came out as a shaky breath or a small, strangled moan.
James’s eyes never left yours as your brows furrowed and you tried to shift your weight, but his grip on you was firm. He studied exactly how your features shifted and contorted when he moved fast or hit a particularly good spot, and he could feel a straining in his jeans.
Your arousal grew each time you tried to move away but couldn’t. James was certainly the most muscular of any of the group, and he worked out the most, almost by default from playing Quidditch. You were happy he was manhandling you: he was perfect for it.
James continued to touch you as you struggled to remain standing, but luckily, Lily came to your aid, holding your hips from behind.
“Aweh, Jamesie, I think she’s gonna fall if you let her go,” Lily taunted.
James listened to Lily, then directed his attention back to you. “Open your eyes,” he demanded, and you did just that, “if you fall, it better be to your knees.”
You nodded your head up and down as much as you could with James’s grip on you, and he immediately let go of your throat. You felt your knees buckle, and despite the fact that you probably could have stood, you sunk to your knees in front of James.
He smiled wickedly as he unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them down, standing in front of you in his boxers once his shirt was removed.
You looked up at him and swallowed hard, turned on but also nervous.
“I’ve never done this before,” you reminded him, “I don’t think it’ll be good.”
“You don’t have to do it, angel,” James said, fearing he was pressuring you.
“I want to,” you admitted, “I just- I-“
“Want me to talk you through it?”
“You don’t have to- I just- I don’t know-“
James sank down to your level, kneeling on the floor in front of you and taking your hands in his. “If you don’t wanna do this, you tell me whenever. Otherwise, don’t be embarrassed. I’ll walk you through it. We stop when you want. Don’t worry about it being bad, baby, that pretty mouth around my cock couldn’t possibly be bad. Lily can help, too. She’s got it down to a science. Okay?”
You blushed and dropped your head to hide it. James maneuvered his own boxers off, before standing up again, his semi-hard cock almost level with your face.
“You wanna watch what I do first?” Lily suggested, and you immediately nodded. You would feel a lot more comfortable seeing her do it first, partially so you could have a reference, but partially because you couldn’t stand the thought of doing it in front of Lily without Lily having done anything sexual in front of you first.
Lily shuffled on her knees toward James, who smiled down at her. She took James’s cock in her hand and pointed the tip directly outward.
“Boys like it when you work ‘em up first, especially this one,” Lily smiled.
Lily kept James’s cock steady as she licked a stripe from the base to the tip, circling her tongue around the tip before pulling away to speak again.
“Since it’s your first time, don’t rush it,” she said, “go nice and slow and let yourself adjust. Like this.”
Lily wrapped her mouth around James’s cock, and he immediately threw his head back and let out a moan. She slowly sunk her head further and further down.
James’s hand instinctively found it’s way to the back of Lily’s head, causing Lily to pull away with a pop. “She can’t see if your arm is in the way, Jamie!”
“Fuck, sorry,” James breathed out, clearly worked up from even one small moment.
“The little moans mean he likes it,” Lily said, “just watch your teeth. Try to think about hollowing out your cheeks.”
You nodded and watched as Lily reconnected her mouth to James’s cock. He clenched his hands into fists to stop himself from holding her head against him, and you could tell he was fighting to keep his resolve. Lily moved her head as far down as she could go, then almost entirely off, then back down again. She kept a steady pace, and eventually James looked down at her, and Lily forced her eyes open to look back at him.
“Fuck, we love it when you fucking look at us,” James said, talking to you, but looking at Lily.
Lily continued to suck him off for a few moments before disconnecting herself from him again, shifting backwards on her knees to make room for you.
You made yourself comfortable as you took a deep breath. You looked up at James, and he nearly combusted when he made eye contact with you. “Shit, baby, don’t look at me like that.”
“Will you tell me if anything is uncomfortable?” you asked.
The innocence coating your voice was driving James crazy, and he was growing more and more eager by the second. “Shit, yes, I promise.”
You copied Lily’s initial actions, wrapping your hand around the base of his cock as you wrapped your lips around his tip. You remembered what Lily said about teeth, and you did your best to avoid having them touch James. You moved your lips as far down James’s shaft as you could before you felt his tip his the back of your throat, causing you to gag around him and pull away.
“It’s okay, that’s okay! That’s totally normal,” Lily said, immediately putting her hand on your back to comfort you, “just go a little less far this time.”
You wrapped your lips around James again, this time only sinking down as far as you could without his cock hitting the back of your throat. You slowly pulled back and then pushed in again, trying to gage how it feels to move. You focused on keeping your cheeks hollowed out.
After a few tries, you got your jaw in a comfortable position. You looked up at James, who was fighting for his life to keep it together. He was gripping Lily’s hand in his own, and his other hand was in front of his face, covering his own mouth.
You pulled away from James. “Are you okay?” you asked.
“Yeah, baby, just didn’t wanna make a noise and stress you out.”
“Am I doing okay?”
“You’re doing so good for me, baby.”
You gave him a small smile before sinking back onto his length. You found your comfortable position again, and began to move more and more, gradually increasing your speed as you adjusted.
“Atta girl,” Lily said.
You braced yourself by placing your palms on his thighs, allowing yourself to more easily get closer and closer to him.
As time went on, James lost himself in the pleasure, and eventually completely forgot that this was your first time, and that he was supposed to be gentle.
His eyes were closed and his head was thrown back as he placed his hand on the back of your head, forcing you closer to him.
You tried your best to focus on keeping your cheeks hollow, and realized you should breathe through your nose. You knew you could stop James at any time, but you didn’t really want to. You relished in the knowledge that your mouth around him felt so good that he lost control.
James began to buck his hips forward, causing you to still your head as he took over. He fucked your mouth fast, chasing his high as you tried your best to breathe and stay still.
Lily grabbed your shoulders and pulled you away from him. James snapped out of his trance, and looked down to you concerned.
“Shit, angel, are you alright?” he asked, leaning down and running a thumb over your cheek.
You nodded yes as you caught your breath.
You turned to Lily, who said, “it’s no fun if he comes already.”
James got down to your level, kneeling on the floor as he begged, “seven hells, Y/N, please let us fuck you.”
You leaned toward James and gently kissed him, and he immediately reciprocated, running his fingers through your hair and deepening the kiss.
He pulled you against his body as he leaned backward, straightening his legs until he was laying flat against the floor, holding your body against his while still kissing you.
“Flip around,” he said.
You gave him a confused look, but instead of explaining, he simply repeated, “flip the fuck around.”
You awkwardly shifted your body around until your back was to James. You were nervous to put the pressure of your body against his chest, so you knelt on the floor between his legs, unsure of what to do.
You luckily didn’t have to ask. James leaned upward and wrapped his arms around your body, pulling your back flush against his chest as he laid back down against the rug.
“Legs on either side of me, angel,” he said, and you moved your knees to either side of his waist.
Even before you had sex, you had some understanding of how it worked, but this was all new for you. You listened to any instruction James gave you without question, because it wasn’t like you knew what you were doing anyway.
James unwrapped his arms from your body and ran his fingers over your arms before pulling them backwards, your head nearly knocking back into his head from surprise as he positioned your arms on either side of his head, allowing you to hold yourself up.
“You okay?” he checked in once he had you in the position he wanted.
“Mhm,” you responded.
He gripped your hips, his strength overwhelming you as he lifted your hips with ease. You helped him, lifting your knees until you felt him stop.
James gave his cock a few fast strokes before he positioned himself at your entrance. He pushed your hips down, trying to be slow for your sake, but somewhat failing. When you were all the way sat down, you could hear James’s head hit the floor as he threw it back.
He continued to move your hips up and down, relishing in the pleasure. After a few thrusts, he choked out, “Lil?”
“Already here,” she said, her voice sultry.
Your eyes were squeezed shut, but when you heard her voice, you snapped out of your daze to see she was right between your legs.
“Hi,” you squeaked out.
“Hi,” she responded.
She straightened her back until her lips were mere inches away from yours. She waited until you cried out at a sharp thrust of James’s hips to kiss you. She wrapped her fingers in your hair to keep your head in place, her tongue finding it’s way into your mouth as you moaned.
When she pulled away, she kept eye contact, and began to move down your body. When she was back in between your legs, you nodded to her, granting her permission.
Lily’s tongue began to taste between your folds. James’s thrusts we’re growing hard, his hips now moving more than yours, so Lily didn’t have to do much work.
Her tongue flicked against you as your hips moved up and down, the added pleasure causing your arousal to build rapidly.
She gazed up at you, moving her mouth closer to you so she could suck at your clit as you watched her.
“Fuck, I can’t-“ you moaned.
James released one of your hips and gripped your hair, forcing your head to tilt downward and watch Lily.
Lily sucked and licked at your clit, focusing on circling your clit with her tongue, knowing it would help drive you over the edge.
“Fuck, c’mere,” James nearly growled, knocking your arms and holding your back against his chest, your head falling beside his.
He began to fuck into you even harder, hitting your sweet spot with every vicious thrust. The stretched out position allowed Lily more access to your core, and she gently pawed at James’s balls as she continued to taste you.
While everything about the moment was heated, what sent you over the edge was James’s hold on you. His muscular arms held you against him so effortlessly, but so strong that you couldn’t dare to move if you wanted to. You felt so close to him, and the thought did you in.
“I’m com-“ you couldn’t even finish the sentence before your high crashed over you.
James immediately pulled you up and off of him and allowed Lily to taste your juices, sucking at your entrance until you had calmed down and were clean. As she did so, James used one hand to hold his cock against your thigh, fucking it until he came, spilling his seed on your thigh and hip.
Lily leaned over to lick up the come all over you, making sure you were clean before she backed away.
You dropped your hips to the floor, exhaustion overwhelming you as James shifted backward and allowed you to rest your head on his legs.
Naked and fucked out, James began to run his fingers through your sweat soaked hair. You stayed there for a moment, while Lily reclothed herself and organized her books, before you asked, “how long have you guys been coming here?”
“Years,” James answered, “Remus started coming here during his transitions, and the rest of us would come help him out. It kinda became our place.”
You tilted your head to look up at James. “His what?”
“His transitions. Transformations. Whatever.”
“Transformations?”
“Remus is a werewolf, honey,” Lily chimed in, “there’s no way you couldn’t have known that.”
You did not know that.
“Sirius can turn into a dog,” James blurted out.
“A what?”
“You have so much to learn,” James teased.
“A dog? Like a dog? Like a literal dog?”
“Mhm,” James smiled, “pretty cute dog, too. Big fluffy black thing. Can be kinda scary. He doesn’t really talk about it.”
“What can you turn into?” you looked up to James.
“Baby, you just saw the animal I can be.”
“Oh be honest with her, James,” Lily said, “that wasn’t even the half of it.”
────── ☾ ──────
please comment on this chapter to be added to the taglist! i’m refreshing the list :) thank you!
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1toreyouapart · 2 days ago
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The Lies We Tell
***FANFIC THAT INVOLVES REAL PEOPLE. 18+ ONLY. MDNI. DO NOT READ IF YOU DON’T LIKE FANFIC THAT INVOLVES REAL PEOPLE***
Summary that tells you nothing: Sometimes everything you ever wanted has been right there, within reach, all along.
CW/TW: Angst, fluff, swearing, friends to lovers, jealousy, smut, fingering, PinV, pet names, friends with benefits, more to come as I actually get things written out.
Just Friends
It's funny how life works sometimes. Someone can tell you they love you in one breath and in the very next shatter your entire reality. One wrong move while driving down the road can alter yours and another person's life forever. A brief conversation with a stranger over a drink and exchanged phone numbers can bring people into your life that you now can't imagine life without them. The latter was exactly how Quinn now found herself in this house, surrounded by the best friends she could have ever hoped for, their banter in the living room bringing a smile to her lips as she dumped snacks into bowls.
The boys had all gotten home from tour a couple days ago, and as always, they had to have a movie night. It sort of became tradition even before Noah had invited her to move in with them. After every tour there was a big family dinner, followed by a movie night where none of them actually paid attention to the movies they chose, too caught up in catching up on everything that happened while they were gone.
"Quinn! Hurry your ass up! I'm starving here!" Folio hollered from the living room.
"Untwist your panties! You're welcome to come help, ya know!" She hollered back.
Truthfully, she should have had someone come help her. The downside to living in this particular house full of guys was that they all were much taller than her. Well, all of them that actually lived there. Which meant everything was up high and she had to climb to reach most things. Meaning it took her longer to get even just snacks together.
"Fucking tall ass motherfuckers," she grumbled, climbing up on the counter to reach some more bowls. She probably should have actually counted how much she needed before starting. Her fault, really. A long tattooed arm wrapped around her waist, hauling her off the counter.
"I swear to God, Quinn. You're going to break your fucking neck one of these days. What do you need?" Noah's voice behind her, somewhat panicked, almost made her giggle.
"Well, if you didn't put shit up so high I wouldn't have to climb to get it! And some more bowls."
Noah shook his head, chuckling. Her best friend and roommate. The person that found her in that bar seven years ago, drinking away the pain of her boyfriend at the time breaking up with her, and somehow took all those broken pieces and put her back together.
When Noah was home they quite literally did everything together. From rock climbing to going to gigs for small local bands. Movie nights up in his room, just the two of them. Shoot, when he was home she barely slept in her own room. Every night, without fail they would fall asleep in his room. It was enough that Jolly had asked them more than once if there was something else going on. And was never satisfied when they told him that they were just friends.
"You could also use the step stool I bought you."
"Step stools are for old people and children. I happen to be neither."
"You're impossible."
"You love me!"
Noah glanced down at her with a smirk as he grabbed some of the filled bowls. Quinn ignored the way her stomach flipped as his dark eyes met hers. Ignored the way her heart began to race. He was her best friend. That she definitely had a crush on. But he could never know that. It would make things weird, and she was happy with the way things were. Truly.
"Come on, my little terror pixie."
Huffing she followed him into the living room. Noah had called her a terror pixie from the night they met. However, the calling her his little terror pixie was something new. And she absolutely hated how warm and fuzzy it made her feel inside. Best friends weren't supposed to feel like that towards the other.
"Fuck off, Bigfoot."
With fake indignation she found her spot on the floor with him, settled right between his legs. Long arms wrapped around her, pulling her back against him, settling loosely around her waist. Quinn didn't miss the look everyone shared, or the way Jolly smirked at them. Like they all knew something she didn't. Or maybe they were, once again, reading too much into the way her and Noah were together.
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glisten-inthedark · 3 days ago
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The way Mike says “I say it,” during his argument with El about how he doesn’t say ily is very intriguing to me. He says it with so much….gravity? Solemness? Almost….somberness?? It’s so hard to pinpoint but there’s no warmth in his eyes and it almost feels like a mantra, and he does this little nod at the end of it like he’s telling himself, “Yep, that’s right, I do say it.” He says it like saying it will end the conversation. But it doesn’t.
I agree with other analyses that say he’s trying to gaslight himself in this scene too because what an odd delivery.
Also, have we ever really broken down why this entire scene proves that him not saying I love you isn’t born out of insecurity or, like he later claims, saying it would make El realize he’s just a loser soon? Because for one thing, it’s not like this is something that is disappointing El but she’s keeping it to herself and only confiding it in others. She makes it so damn clear that she wants Mike to say it, that it’s reached the point where she doesn’t think he loves her romantically anymore—if he loves her romantically but is insecure, then El confronting him on not saying it to her should actually make him feel more secure because it’s confirmation that she wants me to love her romantically. And it’s also showing him that he’d actually lose her faster by not saying it than by saying it so what the hell does he have to lose?
But more importantly, Mike insists that he does tell her he loves her.
So how the fuck would that work, Wheeler?? You’re afraid of saying the words I love you to her because you think you’ll lose her faster if you do but also you insist that you do say it?? So if you want El to believe that you do tell her you love her even though apparently her being told by you that you love her would facilitate you losing her??????
Bullshit, Michael Wheeler!
And I think you were the one who pointed out that Mike doesn’t say, “You know how I feel about you,” but rather, “You know what I think of you.” which is like, such a huge Freudian slip imo, especially because he then goes on to say only 2 things about her: she’s the most incredible person in the world, and she’s a superhero.
Nothing about how he feels about her. Just what he thinks of her as. And guess who also calls El a superhero? Her other friends. Mike says two things about El in this scene that literally anyone else in their party would. Compared to Will’s van confession where he talks about how Mike makes him feel—like he’s better for being different, like he’s not a mistake, and gives him the courage to keep going. That’s fucking romantic love right there.
Lastly I want to praise Finn Wolfhard for his microexpressions during that entire argument because I rewatched it over and over for this comment to try and find words to describe how he delivers that one line, but damn after El says, “You can’t even write it,” he has the most fleeting microexpression of panic that is honestly so impressive—it’s this eye twitch/muscle flex by his right eye and this tiny little flinch forward, it almost looks like the right side of his face minutely trembles, A+ acting right there👏👏👏
Hello!
First of all I'm hella sick and I just took some medicine so if I don't make any sense you can blame it on that lmao.
First of all, I just rewatched the scene to see if I could pick it up and my diseased riddled brain did notice what you're talking about. Firstly, he says with such certainty that you'd almost believe it if it weren't for the fact we saw how he signed his letters to El.
And secondly, is almost as if he's trying to convince himself and her that he does say it, probably because as you said, he expected this to end the conversation.
And see, it bothers me so much that people (the GA) don't notice the inconsistency in Mike's behavior because had not one, but two moments that should tell him exactly what he claims he needs to hear. The first is when El tells him point blank that she loves him too, and the second is this one.
Like, what sense does it make that he says he doesn't say the one thing he knows she wants him to say because he's afraid that it'll hurt if he loses her, but him not saying is clearly what's hurting her therefore might be the thing that can make him lose her, so WHY DON'T YOU SAY IT, MICHAEL?
And it's like you said, he says be does say it like he believes it, like he thinks he does which opens another Pandora box, because is like you said, he's telling El he says he loved and then turns around and says he didn't say it because he's afraid to lose her so WHICH IS IT? Can't be fucking both.
And yup, I'm the one who said that about him saying what he thinks of her and not what he feels.
He never says he likes her or anything remotely singular to her personality, is just about the things he thinks she can do which I still insist connects to her he associates El with physical and emotional security that he lacks.
But yes, he never said what she really needed to her, he said the opposite as a matter of fact.
I hope this made sense lmao
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jojotichakorn · 2 days ago
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i started penning a post about how i always find it narratively unsatisfying when an arc ends with a conclusion the following arc breaks, regardless of how realistic the repetition of the same mistake might be, which is still true, but i actually want to talk about something else right now.
i feel like, at least at this stage, jack is in a position that is both generally unrealistic and untrue to the specific events of the series. 'jack and joker' has a clear focus on poverty and money and class issues, but it seems to treat jack in a very special way. he somehow manages to stand on the moral high ground above other characters. specifically, other poor characters. which is, first of all, a little ridiculous, since he was indeed a debt collector and, in fact, almost became the boss's son. and, second of all, is generally Not Great, because it does idolise the idea that if you "just try hard enough", you won't "allow" yourself to be backed into a corner and therefore won't have to do bad things.
now, don't get me wrong, i am not saying that our characters who have made mistakes are completely blameless. tattoo did shitty things (and hoy followed suit), safe did shitty things, hope frankly admitted to enjoying doing shitty things. however, if we zoom out a little, we will see that all these characters are in a situation that is inherently unfair to them. we have all of these poor people in immense amounts of debt and then we have this disgusting rich motherfucker whose entire wealth is literally based on making their lives as miserable and unfair as they are. and i think that, in this particular case, the series would have actually benefited from a dichotomy. don't get me wrong, i'm usually absolutely brimming with nuance and also asking "what lies outside of it?" but this shall be my exception. (though you could say that joke already brings some nuance to it - he is initially from a well-off family and he actively makes choices to the benefit of poor people, despite it resulting in him being ostracised from said family and its riches).
jack walks the line of being poor and managing not to do anything "too bad" like he is a fucking circus performer on a wire. and, don't get me wrong, he is genuinely a selfless character. he makes choices that a lot of other characters in the same circumstances wouldn't make. he remains in debt and continues working for the boss because he keeps trying to help people and pay off their debts first - that is admirable. however, he himself was already set up for more success than others. sure, being forced to become a debt collector isn't a walk in the park, but most other debtors didn't even have that choice. jack has to work for the boss in order to stay afloat - that is an undeniably hard task. the other people the boss collects debts from, however, have to come up with a lot of money out of thin air - that is not simply a hard task, that is an impossible one that is designed to trap them in the cycle of doing this impossible task forever. that being said, ultimately, jack is still poor. his own hamster wheel should be somewhere around the corner, that's always the case. this idea is where i wish they would have taken jack's arc.
from the moment when he refused to marry rose, there was no escape for him. finally, much like our other poor characters, he found himself stuck between a rock and a hard place. (and i think that it's very thematically appropriate for jack's particular "i can't do this anymore, i deserve to live a full life" sentiment to be connected to love, since he is, after all, a lead of a romance drama). he made the decision to say "no" and from that point on, he was completely and utterly fucked. because, realistically, that conversation that he had with the boss after refusing rose was insane. i don't know what he would have done to jack exactly, if that was a genuine conversation and there was no exchange of jack's freedom for the ring, but it would not have been anything good.
so i wish jack had to make the actual tough call there, instead of having joke save him all on his own (and later take the fall for it). and if it was, at least in some capacity, jack's decision to steal that ring, he would finally be placed in a situation where every other poor character already inevitably found themselves in. because the entire system is rigged against all of them and they are eventually always forced to do things that they should have never even had to consider in the first place. but they deserve better than living a life set up for them by evil rich people who literally live off of their suffering and they are allowed - no, at some point they simply have no choice but to - fight for a better life.
this, in my opinion, would have been a much more powerful message and - not to circle back to my personal preferences - would have also not left us with joke making the very same mistake that we decided we should never make again at the end of the previous arc.
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arcandoria · 1 day ago
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DA:V Solavellan Ending Questions & Answers
Translated from ROT13 some of the questions made by fans to Trick Weekes on bluesky. I only translated/added some that I felt relevant but do check Trick's replies on bluesky to see more.
Obviously spoilers warning ahead!
Question: will where Solas and Inky end up in the Fade be strictly regret-themed or will her joining and their love influence it into something a bit less bleak (hence the specific elven phrasing)? rooting for my girl not to be in fade jail
Answer: She's speaking both romantically and literally. It won't be terrible if they're in there together.
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Question: When Solas tells Lavellan that the place he is going is terrible, where exactly are they going? Back to the regret prison or somewhere else?
Answer: The implication is that he's going back to the prison, and now that he'll be working to try to heal the blight while he's there.
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Question: Does he want to reunite? Is it a choice he makes himself? Lavellan is open and proactive during conversation, but he almost seems resigned. “There is no fate but our love” does he realise he can say no? Solavellan was hands down the best romance Ive ever seen, it has kept me invested in DA for a decade. I desperately want for her to be happy, but never at his expense. Especially after knowing of exploitation and inability to refuse he had with Mythal.
Answer: My intention was that after almost destroying the world, he does not feel he deserves love until he fixes what he did wrong (just like he couldn't move forward until he fixed the wrongs he did in Mythal's service). That's why the Inquisitor has to reach out to him.
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Question: Was the nature of that solas/Mythal was more queerplatonic than romantic? And if Solas had to choose between Mythal and Lavellan, with whom might he consider sharing his life or save in the face of great danger ?
Answer: Mythal is Solas's past. Horrible mistakes made with good intentions. Lavellan is the hopeful future Solas doesn't think he deserves until he fixes the world he broke.
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Question: Does Solas love Lavellan as much as he loves Mythal? I know Mythal is kinda all things to him- leader, oldest friend, maybe lover, and that's hard to overcome. On the other hand, his love for Lavellan seems less all-consuming, but purer. Anyway, love to hear your thoughts!
Answer: Mythal is his past, where he made terrible mistakes. A romanced Lavellan is a bright future he doesn't think he deserves until he fixes all of those past mistakes.
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Question: Could you please tell us, if it is possible, why it was only Mythal's words that allowed Solas to stop this train of endless regrets from rolling into the abyss? I'm sorry, but it seemed too easy to me after so many centuries. Perhaps I don't understand the core of their relationship.
Answer: That's what he needed to hear. Not because he loved Mythal more, but because she was the reason everything went wrong. She, the past, tells him to let go of all the mistakes of the past. And then the Inquisitor he wanted to be with is there to show him a better future.
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thecircularsystem · 20 hours ago
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Okay, English teacher to the rescue, hopefully. Let’s try to simplify this.
OP: System posting is allowed to be silly.
Random Person: Yeah I hate the focus on trauma.
Korya: Hey, while I agree people are allowed to be silly, talking about the trauma part is still important, and too much focus on the sillies can be harmful.
OP: Actually systems owe you nothing. We don’t need to post about our trauma, I want to be silly.
Korya: Nowhere did I say you had to post about trauma. All I was saying is that everyone only focusing on the more fun aspects, like alters, and never discussing the traumatic aspects, like what CDD systems experience, can lead to misinformation.
OP: Sorry if I’m misunderstanding, but what you’re saying feels like you’re saying I can’t post about alters. It isn’t misinformation to share silly things. You can post about trauma, but you should be allowed to be silly.
(AUTHOR’S NOTE: The above statement is part of what Korya said originally! You are in agreement!)
Korya: Yes, you are misunderstanding me. To clarify, I wasn’t doubling down, and I was just trying to add to the conversation.
OP: You are not clarifying. I’m sorry I misunderstood. I said people can be silly, and you said they have to share their trauma or else it’s misinformation. All I said is we don’t have to focus on trauma. What do you think is misinformation about that?
(AUTHOR’S NOTE: Korya never claimed you can’t silly. They just said that always and forever only being silly is kind of erasing the trauma part of a trauma disorder pretty frequently, and EVERYONE ONLY EVER being silly can lead to aspects of CDDs and disordered plurality being erased. They never disagreed with your premise and said directly in their first response that they agreed with it.)
Korya: I have clarified and I don’t know how to clarify more. You started a conversation and I added to it with more insight. I didn’t respond to just what you said, but to what everyone has said on this topic in the past. Like I’ve said a few times now, I wasn’t calling you out (or disagreeing with you). You keep asking me for clarification, which I have tried to give. I explained that you misunderstood and you continued to say the same misunderstanding. I will stop the conversation here because the communication barrier is getting frustrating.
OP: You haven’t clarified shit and now I’m mad. I tried to be nice and polite but you rejected clarifying and rejected a conversation. You disagree with me and you said it’s misinformation to be silly online. You talk weird and I am now going to make fun of you for it, because I feel like you made fun of me for my lack of English skills, despite the fact that I brought it up. Fuck off and I’m now calling this post harassment of a teenager.
Korya: Well now I’m going to point out you’re legally an adult, and you’re arguing in an adult space about adult topics. Also your language barrier is the issue here.
……..
Does that clarify? =_=
TL;DR: OP, Korya literally said “I agree with you” and then added more thoughts. You read that and immediately went “that is a disagreement.” The word agree means the opposite of disagreement.
To further the actual convo Korya was trying to have (and Korya, I’d love to take this to discord or a different post!), people are absolutely allowed to post about the fun aspects of their disorder, but I do wish the trauma aspects were also celebrated. Or at least fucking welcomed.
Seeing constant posts of “I can’t believe people focus on their suffering, stupid fucking miserable people” really hurts as someone who tries to hold their trauma close for understanding and healing. I can’t grow past it unless I embrace it, and being told that it is bad to do so sucks — and many individuals (not OP, but many) in this topic of conversation treat my trauma as if it’s bad to even mention.
“DID/disordered plurality isn’t just about having silly guys in your brain, it’s about TRAUMA AND SUFFERING”
yeah ok sure. but it can also be about the silly guys. that’s okay too
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