#I’ve been informed it’s not the same one but they look exactly alike

[abbysfrenchbraid]

did everyone see that the cog that fell out of viktor‘s hand was just like the one jayce flicked to him when they first cracked the hexcode. just making sure everyone knows

[palajae]

hypegirl! | one.

PAIRING ▸ soccer player! niki x afab! reader

GENRE ▸ soccerl! au, roommates!au, romance, fluff, angst, humor

WORD COUNT ▸ 3.3k

SUMMARY ▸ all you want is to join the boys’ soccer team. all niki wants is to get minji’s attention. as roommates, what better than to strike a deal and help each other out? nothing really, except for one glaring issue: your blossoming feelings for said roommate. oh, and the fact that you’re technically supposed to be your brother, kim sunoo. 

AKA a hopefully more sfw version of she's the man? 

NOTES ▸ based off she’s the man (2006), reader is sunoo's sister and pretends to be her brother sunoo—let me know if there’s any typos!

masterlist. | next.

HE LOOKS JUST LIKE A DREAM.

so you’re practically drooling over your roommate, nishimura riki. a bit embarrassing, you know, but not as much as when you first started living with guys, in an all guys dorm, pretending to be… 

a guy. 

exactly how did you even get into this predicament? stuck hiding your feelings for your roommate that doesn’t even know that you’re utterly (and shamelessly) lying about your entire identity.  

ah. that’s right. technically, you weren’t supposed to be at an all boys soccer camp.

even worse, you’re not supposed to be posing as the opposite gender. especially not as your older brother sunoo.

as roommates with riki for the entire summer, you’re not sure what you’re supposed to do—as kim sunoo and as you yourself. 

growing up you always heard the same old remarks, about how much you and your older brother sunoo looked so much alike. 

while you weren’t twins, you supposed you could see the resemblance. but you were you. and kim sunoo was kim sunoo. 

along with the comments on your resemblance, you constantly remember hearing how sunoo was “so much more feminine” than you. sure you enjoyed more typical ”boy” activities, as the world defined it, but so what? what was with all the gender stereotyping? 

growing up, you learned to deal with it. all that mattered was that you had a somewhat good childhood and relationship with your brother sunoo. 

while your appearances may have been similar, your hobbies certainly weren’t. 

your mother tried to push you toward the more artistic and creative side, which you didn’t exactly have a knack for. those kinds of things were more of sunoo’s style. 

on the other hand, you were interested in more physical and hands on activities. 

you enjoyed playing sports like soccer, while sunoo enjoyed singing and performing. 

but there was one thing both you and sunoo inherited from your mother: stubbornness.

she constantly kept nudging you to those so called refined pastimes and away from said “dangerous” sports. 

so no surprise came to you in the summer of your junior year when your mother informs you of your summer plans (that she apparently decided on her own). 

you would be going to band camp, while sunoo went to soccer camp. 

was she crazy? 

your artistic skills couldn’t exactly be called skills—the last time you touched an instrument was three years ago—and sunoo could barely walk straight sometimes. 

yours and sunoo’s protest fell on deaf ears. 

“but mom! why can’t i go to soccer camp? you know our school has only a boys soccer team and i’ve been wanting to-“

she crosses her arms. “it’s a boys only camp, y/n. i want you to practice your musicality more and sunoo can make more friends at his camp. this will good for both of you. end of discussion.” 

once summer came, you would go off to your respective camps and come back at the end of summer, hopefully still alive. 

that was the plan—your mothers plan. 

but not yours. 

it didn’t take long for you to come up with what you thought (originally) was an ingenious idea. 

you’ll pretend to be sunoo—that was the easiest part— and act as him to attend the soccer camp. in place of you, sunoo will go to yours as he wished. luckily for him, your band camp was for anyone, so it would be easier for him to fit in. a win-win situation, no? 

this is the chance you’ve been waiting for. after years of disapproval from your parents and lack of formal soccer training and participation, you finally have a opportunity. in return, sunoo can just go as himself to your music camp and play it safe. 

you figure you could just switch on the last day and keep each other updated so mom didn’t get suspicious.

when you voice this plan to your brother, being the goody two shoes he is, sunoo’s uncertain until you win him over with constant begging. not only did you inherit stubbornness but tenacity. 

you figured you lived around and hung around enough guys to help you seem less suspicious. or at least, get by. if anything, you could text sunoo for help. 

you were practically counting the days until you left. and with your wig, drawn in eyebrows, and shoulder pads, off you went.  

you had to keep reminding yourself that from now on, you’re kim sunoo. it’s weird and a bit overwhelming at first, being surrounded by a bunch of sweaty, soccer playing guys who are obviously much more skilled and experienced than you. 

you completely forgot about the whole living situation with dorms and a randomly assigned roommate. all your clothes were borrowed from sunoo, and all your personal products were stored in an hopefully inconspicuous black bag. 

as you drag your heavy and totally not suspicious duffel bag into your given dorm, you soon stop in your tracks. you see a guy, as expected, but he’s—

shirtless? 

your eyes widen, and you choke. he turns and you really try your best to focus on his face (and not his defined body). was it hot in here or just you?

he holds out a hand and you look at it, startled. 

“hey, you must be my roommate. i’m riki but everyone calls me niki.” 

man, why was his voice hot as well? 

you clear your throat, finding it hard to focus around him. 

“sup. i’m s-sunoo.” 

“nice,” he nods. 

you realize at that moment how sweaty you are due to stress and paranoia over getting caught, and he must as well due to his next words. 

“you good, man? if you’re hot, i can turn up the air.”

you immediately shake your head, “no thanks, i’m good-“

“-dude,” you add as an afterthought. you cringe as niki shoots you a weird look before returning to his claimed bed. 

you huff and dump your stuff onto your bed. what a start to the day. 

after that, niki introduces you to his other two friends attending the camp as well who live across the hall—jungwon and jay. 

you think you’re getting the hang of it, being your brother, but something about jungwon still makes you keep your guard up. the way he looked at you made you want to shrink up inside and curl into a ball. 

as you finish unpacking your stuff, you hear the three of them talking out in the hall. it’s not loud, but still enough for you to eavesdrop. you can tell immediately by their strategizing that they’re good. and by default their team must be as well. they had to be—they even had a infamous name, for crying out loud. 

enhypen. at first, you scoffed—what, were they like a boy band or something? but as you observed them play together during unofficial practices, their special ones that others couldn’t join, it hit you. 

you knew you had to make their team. no matter what. 

you know how this camp works, as the actual sunoo told you. all the boys at the camp would be divided up into teams based off preference, training, and coordination. 

after teams were formed, they would practice together until the end of the camp where all teams would play off in a championship. 

phones weren’t allowed either, except after hours at night. that would be your only chance to keep in touch with sunoo. besides that, you were on your own. 

waking up at 6am everyday was tough. 

training for hours in the sun with players who were much more stronger, skilled, and overall better than you was tough. 

being surrounded by boys and having to be on guard all the time was tough. 

but sneaking into to shower at night after everyone else was torture. the stink you had to endure 24/7 was bad, let alone all the other guys who caught a whiff too. 

you’re sure most of the guys found you weird. it was weird learning how to live with guys, changing when niki wasn’t around or looking, sneaking all your personal hygiene care. there was a lot to get used to. 

also, why were men’s restrooms so dirty sometimes? 

you were stuck in hot, strenuous conditions outside almost all day. it was a norm, constantly getting yelled at by coaches and receiving harsh remarks from teammates. 

but it’s everything you wanted. 

you knew it made you better. you were getting better. but it wasn’t enough for niki’s team, you could tell. team decisions were coming up, and you needed to find a way to make the cut. 

soon enough, a week into the camp, you found yourself getting somewhat adjusted. even thought you had like close to no friends, you felt less insecure… and more confident. 

during a break while doing power shot drills,   you gulp down water as your eyes wander.  there were girls training on the other side of the field—lacrosse players. from then on, you observed that you would occasionally share the field with them. you usually watched them with envy, regretting picking up the first ball you saw when you were younger, a soccer ball. 

you also observed how your roommate’s attention would be completely stolen by a certain someone playing lacrosse yards away. 

his eyes would always follow her when the guys had a break, as his friends teased him and he blushed. 

your eyes hardened at ‘minji’ or whoever you heard the guys whisper about. no, you weren’t jealous. why would you when you spoke a total of ten words per day to niki (more than any other guy at the camp)? 

you were just irked. technically, you had no right to be jealous—since you weren’t even you. you were supposed to be your brother. 

it’s only a day or two later that you see the girls training again. but it’s different this time. one of the male coaches calls all the soccer players on one side and the lacrosse players on the other side, all crowded together in a rough circle. you end up standing next to niki and follow his gaze to who do you know, minji. 

the coach blows his whistle. “everyone listen up! we’re going to have a joint session today, with both the guys and girls. just conditioning today, but hopefully this will promote better teamwork and communication.” 

whispers and groans erupt, but the whistle is blown again. 

“one guy and girl will be assigned to each other, randomly. now find your partner and get to it!”

“you’re kidding. we have to train with girls?” you hear someone mutter and bite the inside of your cheek. 

you already know this spells out disaster. soccer boys and lacrosse girls? 

and it does, because your hear one of the assistants call out your (brother’s) name. you perk up, that is, until you hear who your partner is. 

“-and kim minji!” 

your mouth drops open. 

you soon feel a pair (or more) of eyes burn into you. one particularly close. 

“hey, sunoo…” 

you almost forget to respond. 

“…yeah?” you know what niki’s already going to say and it leaves a bitter aftertaste in your mouth. 

“i was thinking we could like, you know, change partners-“ 

“kim sunoo! hurry up! your partners waiting!” 

with helpless eyes, you have no choice but to jog over to said expecting person. 

“hi,” she smiles and holds out a hand. you swallow. 

dang, she was pretty. no need to explain why niki had a crush on her. 

surprisingly, practicing with her went well. maybe a little too well. all you could remember was her nodding brightly and laughing at your jokes? 

honestly you were just trying to ease the awkward atmosphere. 

meanwhile, niki stares at the two of you in envy. he feels a ball hit him in the head. 

“focus nishimura!”

that night, as you walk into your room freshly showered, you almost jump when you hear niki’s voice. you thought he would’ve been asleep by now, as you took your time waiting for everyone to leave the shower rooms.

“sunoo?”

you clear your throat, making your voice deeper. “what’s up?”

“i bet you already know, but i’m kinda into minji…”

you stifle the urge to roll your eyes. sure, she was pretty and all but why was he so obsessed? what was so much better about her than you? 

“oh yeah?”

you can hear him sit up from his bed. “i know you guys are assigned partners and all, but you think we could switch?”

you fumble for words, “sorry but uh, i don’t think we can. i overheard someone else asking but coach said no exceptions.” 

technically not a lie. 

“dang. well, you think you could help me with her then? as friends?” 

you raise an eyebrow even though he can’t see it. when were you guys friends? 

“it depends, man…” 

“all you gotta do is put in a good word,” he starts quickly. he keeps rambling on but you’re too busy laughing at his cuteness to pay attention to what he’s actually saying. 

then it hits you. this is an opportunity. 

“what’s in it for me?” you cut him off. 

he pauses and you know this is your chance.

“if you put me in your team, i’ll talk to minji about you,” you state firmly. 

“whoa, whoa, whoa!” you hear more shuffling and the lights suddenly turn on. 

niki stares at you with wide eyes.

“you’re serious?” 

you nod, crossing your arms. you feel uncertain, unconfident. 

“i don’t think i can. like, it’s not really fair. plus you gotta meet our standards, you know. i can’t just let you in, you know. i mean, i can try… but that’s still no guarantee.” 

you push your chin forward. “that’s not a deal, then.” 

he sighs, rubbing his face. “i guess there’s only one other option.” you wait for him to speak. 

he looks at you, as serious as ever. “i’ll train you. that’ll give you the best chance to make the cut. only if you’ll help me to the best of your ability too.” 

“but this stays between us,” he adds. 

you exhale. this was better than nothing. 

“you got yourself a deal.” 

the sparks when you shook hands were too much to brush off.

so began your late night practices with your roommate. something you couldn’t imagine doing the first week you got here. 

niki’s good. at playing and at coaching. 

he’s observant. he sees all your weaknesses and faults. and he isn’t afraid to call you out.

“get to the ball faster, kim.”

“ugly form. we need to change it.” 

“how did you even make this camp?”

panting, you collapse onto the grass. what did you find attractive in this guy again? 

you open your eyes and see a hand right in front of your face.

eyes fluttering, you take it as niki helps you up. but he uses a bit too much strength as you stumble forward into his arms. his eyes widen as you stare at him in surprise. you both take a few steps back. 

“my bad. you’re way lighter than i thought.”

you clear your throat, trying to see unaffected. “i get that a lot.”

an uncertain silence fills the air as you gulp down water. 

“it’s getting late, we should head back.” 

you nod as you gather your stuff and it’s quiet again. 

“good work today.” 

you turn to him again with raised eyebrows but niki’s back is already facing you, making his way back to the dorms. 

“you know niki?”

you ask in between breaths, tossing the medicine ball to minji. 

“uhhh, the soccer player?” 

she tosses it back to you. 

you nod, turning to point him out a couple yards away training with his own partner. 

“yeah. him.” 

she shrugs, eyeing you. “i’ve heard of him, why? is there something i should know?”

“no-no! just wondering. he’s my friend and all, and i think he’s pretty cool. honestly, you guys would get along pretty well.” 

“…okay?” she drags out the last syllable while shooting you a weird look. 

this was going to be harder than you thought. 

you sigh, patting the lotion into your face. at this point you had gotten used to the conditions at camp, being almost two weeks in. that also meant less than a week until team decisions.

you knew niki was skilled but as he teaches you tips and tricks the coaches don’t, you notice it. you can feel yourself getting better day by day as team selection day comes up. and others take note too.

but only you and niki share a smile. 

thoughts consumed, you soon see a head pop into your peripheral vision. 

an eyebrow of niki’s quirks up, “what is that?” 

you jolt. 

“skincare—it’s important for everyone!”

you defend quickly, and he laughs, causing your heart to stutter. “nah, i get it. i was asking because i need a better everyday sunscreen too.” 

“oh,” you falter. 

you show him unabashedly. “i heard it’s good- uh, from my sister.” 

niki seems a lot more intrigued and it makes you smile. 

“huh… how do they always find the good stuff?”

he snatches it from you and you roll your eyes. 

practicing at night got you a lot closer to niki. it almost made you believe that you could make his team. not only was he a great teacher but overall, he was just a good person. 

you learned early on that nishimura riki really wasn’t all that he seemed to be. he was much, much more playful than you originally assumed. 

and much, much, more shyer. 

especially around girls. especially about girls. that explained why he asked you—of all people—to help with minji. 

niki acted so differently around you and the guys than with the lacrosse players. you could see it now. he was outgoing, funny, and not to mention way too much of a prankster with jay and jungwon (who you felt a bit more comfortable with too).

after all, jay was the one to tell you that niki would never be the one to approach, let alone talk to a girl first. or that he never had a girlfriend before, which surprised you. 

you realize that niki is only acting like his real self around you because he thinks you’re a guy. it makes you wonder, how would he act around you as yourself? 

knowing who you truly were?

“so….” niki starts off the next morning and you quirk an eyebrow. 

“how’s it going with minji?”

oh, right. you almost forgot about that. you honestly didn’t want to mention anything about him to her, but a deal was a deal and you weren’t the type to go back on your word. 

you rub your hands together, seemingly disappointed. 

“i’m sorry man, but she doesn’t seem that interested. i’m not going to lie to you and sugarcoat things but i don’t want to pressure her too much either.” 

he sighs. “i know. it’s just hard. i’m not good with talking to girls or anything like that.” 

you hum, “i mean, i could help you if you want. like acting as a girl and taking you out to practice.” 

“what?” he glances at you incredulously. 

you quickly shake your head, “i mean- you know i have a sister. i, uh, kinda learned some things from her—about girls and stuff.”

he scratches his neck. “yeah, i guess so.” 

you look around nonchalantly, “she’s around your age actually.” 

at this point you can’t deny that you found your roommate quite attractive. in terms of appearance and personality. his true self was too endearing. and you liked it a little too much. 

the more time you spend together, the more you realize you’re developing feelings for niki. as yourself. 

and you’re supposed to be kim sunoo. 

the next day, minji gives you a gatorade during practice. “good work today, sunoo!” 

you nod back, “you too, minji.”

she looks around before deciding to sit down next to you. “you know, i think your tip really helped. i feel so much less sluggish and puffy in the morning.” 

you zone out as she keeps going on. 

“i don’t know how you know so much, but it’s really cool.” 

she smiles her bright smile again as your eyes wander across the field. everyone else was still practicing, including niki. 

you embarrassingly can’t keep your eyes off of him as you see him wipe the sweat off his face, shaking his hair free of the wetness. 

“—sunoo?” 

“huh?” you jump back to reality. 

“did you hear me?” her big eyes blink back at you. “i was wondering if you wanted to hang out with our group tonight. you can invite some of your friends too.”

like the idiot you are, you reluctantly think of how great of an opportunity this is for niki. 

“sure!” 

“are you positive i look okay?” 

you’ve never seen niki this nervous, not even on the first day when the coaches were screaming in your faces. 

“yes,” you roll your eyes.

but a stray flyaway catches your eye. 

“wait-“

you reach up to fix it and you hear his breath hitch. 

“there you go. all nice and ready for minji,” you joke. he blinks before following you. 

“sunoo!” minji waves excitedly at you while niki trails awkwardly behind. occasionally on the weekends, everyone would have free time to go into town and hang out. today was just your (un)lucky day to be with minji and her friends. 

you can see some of them giggling and whispering behind her, and you figure it’s because of niki and jungwon. but they keep sending you looks, making uncomfortable shivers run down your back. 

“what’s up?” 

“we’re going to eat, and then maybe head to the arcade after?” you barely manage to nod before she happily grabs your hand out of the blue and drags you along. 

you don’t think it’s going to plan, however. minji spent most of her time with you while you were trying (quote: trying) to be with niki. all while niki was trying to get closer to her. 

minji was cool and all but you didn’t realize truly how much she talked to only you. she definitely wasn’t that friendly with everyone else, let alone niki and jungwon. so why did she keep such a close distance to you? 

by the end of the night, you wave a halfhearted goodbye to her and her friends as they laugh and walk off. 

sighing, you turn to niki who faces you with a skeptical look. “so… how was it?”

he shrugs, “it was nice, i guess. i feel like i didn’t get that many chances to talk to her, though.” 

“no way, man. i think you guys hit it off pretty well. you just need to spend more time together. trust me, she’ll like you.” 

you cringe internally at the words that leave your own mouth.

“you think so?” his eyes sparkle with hope. 

it’s cute. 

jungwon eyes you two warily. “you sure about that? i feel like she was spending a lot of time around you, sunoo.”

you’re quick to deny, “that’s just cause she’s known me longer. of course you’d be more comfortable with someone you already talked to.” 

you nod at niki for reassurance. for him or for yourself, you’re not sure.

it’s dark out. you had to wait for everyone else to head to bed before answering your mother’s call.  

“-so late?”

you roll your eyes, lazily kicking the grass with your foot outside on campus. 

“practice ran later today.” 

you hear her sigh from the other end. “whatever. i’m sending it to you then.” 

“mom,” you whine, “i don’t want to wear a dress for the performance.” 

“i have work that day sweetie. you know i won’t be able to see you, so please just wear the dress. pictures are getting taken. okay? i’m getting it sent to your camp so no more arguing.”

you stomp your foot.

“fine. and no, i will not wear high heels.” 

unbeknownst to you, a hidden figure crouches in a near bush. 

taehyun always felt like there was something fishy about you. from the first day on the camp when he locked eyes with you. 

the way you immediately looked away—you simply seemed so skittish, so out of place. there was just something fishy about you and he began to do more research. 

not only that, he saw how close you looked with kim minji. the girl he had liked for years, having come to the same respective camps previously. your new face was too suspicious to not investigate.

after hearing some parts of your conversation with what sounded like your mom, he vows to do more work to find out the truth. 

whatever the truth was about you, kim sunoo. 

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[budbuddnbuddy]

Little obey me headcanons pt 7

A/n: It’s been a while since I came on with one of these babies huh? Well I’m here with a new one now back and better then ever! Enjoy!!!

The Little D’s have transformation powers nothing extremely powerful, they can only really turn into objects or small animals, perfect for sneaking around as that is what they were made for.

With this information in mind, Barbatos was the one to send a bunch of the Little D’s off into different parts of the human world to gain information for candidates, using their disguises as objects and animals to spy on various humans of various different backgrounds….totally not illegal.

While Lucifer and Satan are different looking at first glance they do look a lot alike in the face, the same nose, shape of the eye, the way their brows bend and curve with each and every expression they make, you get the deal.

I wasn’t exactly sure how to feel about Mammon smoking, but after seeing a lot of art and reading drabbles with it, I really warmed up to the thought of it. Don’t get me wrong, it was definitely because of peer pressure and he’s not good at it at all. He just does it to put up his “Nonchalant Bad boy” persona. loser

Yes. There are infact Cliques in RAD, popular demons, Nerds, Jocks, Delinquents, Normies, Gamers, Loners, Social floaters, etc. You get the deal, it’s painfully obvious too. You see it all in the cafeteria like in a stereotypical 2004 highschool movie and yes you are the new kid.

I have a feeling that MC would put Luke onto human world cartoons. Powerpuff Girls, SpongeBob, Adventure Time. You get the deal, but I think his personal favorites would be Gravity Falls and Adventure Time. He gives off the vibe that he likes shows with deeper meanings other than your daily life lessons. Ya know?

Also same thing with video games, I have a feeling that he’ll take a real good liking to Minecraft and Undertale. (He’ll fall in love with the sound tracks.)

All Demons have sharp teeth yes however Gluttony demons tend to have longer canines and just sharper and stronger teeth in general. This is how Beel is able to bite and eat all the things that he does, other demons can’t really do that.

It is true that Diavolo had your D.D.D altered so that it would be able to work in the human world when MC left, yes. HOWEVER, MC accidentally left the charger for it in their room in the Devildom so like after 2 days it died. It was mailed back to you after like a week but…I think you can imagine how that week went for the brothers…

“Why the heck ain’t MC returning any of my calls or texts?! It’s been a whole week!”

“lmafo, maybe they finally realized how annoying you are.”

“Shaddup!!”

“As much as I hate to agree with the idiot of all people, it is a tad bit concerning…they don’t usually go longer than a few hours returning a text…”

“Maybe they’re busy?”

“Yeah, Beel’s right…they have a life too ya know. They’re probably catching up on work.”

“Everyone!!! Look what I found!”

“…Is that, their charger?”

“Yeah! I found it in their room! It was still plugged on the side of their bed. Our human can be so forgetful sometimes. <3”

“Waitaminute! The heck ‘ere ya donin’ in there room anyways!”

“Yeah! The hell is up with that? Last time I checked I don’t remember MC’s last words to us being: ‘Asmodeus can come into my room anytime!’ So don’t think you get free reign!”

“Oh don’t act like you two any better.! Mammon, I’ve seen you digging around their closet! You too Leviathan!”

“!!!” “!!!”

“Well at least we found it, now hand it to me so I can mail it to them.”

“No way, I wanna mail it!”

“Nuh uh no way you’ll probably sell it, I’m gonna mail it to them!”

“Hello??? Are you guys forgetting I’m the one who found it? It only makes sense for me to send it to them!”

“I wanna send it to MC too.”

“Me too.”

“That’s enough. All of you.”

With Lucifer being the only one out of the seven to actually know where you live he ends up sending it to you in the mail. Along with some cash to spoil you for the next month of course. Lol.

There are royal guards on school grounds at RAD, though they mainly stay and guard the outside to make sure no intruders get in. If you aren’t wearing a uniform then you can’t come in!

Don’t let any of the brothers come with you to any sort of medical appointment you may have in the future. One cheeky joke from your doctor and they might be killed.

“Well MC your knee seems to be badly infected.”

“What will need to done doctor?”

“We might just have to cut off your whole leg.”

“……”

“Haha! Just kidding! We’ll clean ya up and have you bandaged and sent home in less than 15 minutes. It’s not that bad, don’t be so serious!”

MC’s just like “haha…yeah.” while patting their slightly growling demons leg in a “He didn’t mean it, he didn’t mean it.” fashion. As he’s literally determining the best way to kill the doctor you had for the past 4 years, Sorry doc.

[huramuna]

so sorry i haven't posted any updates for banshee's lament in a while... take this excerpt from chapter 14 as compensation.

--

“I believe I may have some information… that may interest you. I’ve heard… whispers about the banshee.”

His breath caught in his throat as he stepped into the alcove. “What have you heard?” 

“She is alive,” Larys continued, hand splayed over the top of the cane, his thumb skimming the engraving of a firefly that was hewn into the wood. “She does indeed reside on Dragonstone. As for her… state of mind, I cannot say.” 

Aemond bit the inside of his cheek, feeling the pain of his opened blisters turn into numbness at the revelation. He looked at Larys, his face turned slightly inward. The Master of Whispers wasn’t telling him everything. “You know more.”

“Indeed,” he replied, somewhat solemnly. He didn’t meet Aemond’s eye, rather, looking at the floor. “She has been wed to Jacaerys Velaryon.” 

The numbness turned to ice, stinging to his bones. There was a high pitched ringing in his ear as Larys continued speaking— but he didn’t hear any of it. He didn’t even recall saying anything further to Lord Strong before his body began walking. Autonomously, he guided himself to Shera’s room. 

As he opened the door, he heard the tinkling of someone rustling through cabinets, through drawers and jewelry cases alike. His hand stayed on the pommel of his sword, suppressing the feral urge to cut down whomever was touching her things. 

It was a maid. Aemond didn’t know her name, nor did he care to.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice placidly calm comparatively to the storm brewing inside of him. 

The maid dropped the ring— it was one of Shera’s moonstone rings that she always wore, always fiddled with and twisted upon her pointer finger. “A-ah,” she exclaimed, bowing low. “I was just… cleanin’, my prince. N-nary a speck of dust will bely the room, like ye said.” 

“Cleaning? You are… cleaning? By picking up Lady Stark’s things? Did you intend to clean them, without any of your supplies?” he questioned further, walking closer to the cowering servant. She didn’t bring any of the needed items to clean with her into the room— no, it was just her. 

“I-I,” she stammered, backing up from the prince’s advance. A small jingle was heard from her apron pocket. “I didn’t see… see the harm in… in…” 

“In what? In stealing a Lady’s things? To line your own pockets?” he snatched her wrist before she could swindle another one of Shera’s items.

“She… she won’t be comin’ back, that’s what I heard! Won’t be coming to get her things neither with the war brewin’— it’s a waste to leave it… I’ve got babes… to feed,” the maid’s eyes roved around the room in panic, trying to find a way out of the situation. 

Aemond squeezed her wrist tighter, pulling the poor girl up to his level. “How do you know that? How could you possibly know?” 

“Everyone knows! Heard she married the princess’ son, ‘ought to be round with a child soon to keep up with squeezing out heirs— she won’t come back!” 

Everyone knows? How could it be possible that even a lowly servant knew of such fortuitous news before he— and he wasn’t even told by his own family, nay, by a lickspittle spider. His grip on the maid’s wrist increased, the same high pitched ringing from before drowning out the sounds of her cries, her pleas. He didn’t let go until he felt the bone snap beneath his palm.

She wailed, holding her now broken wrist, rushing out of the room. Courtiers stopped and peered into the open door, no doubt drawing nefarious conclusions as to what exactly Aemond had done to the servant. 

He didn’t care. He didn’t care he just scared the hells out of her, nor that he broke her wrist, nor the babes she had that would most certainly starve now that she’d be out of a job. 

A sickening placidity washed over him as he stared the snooping courtiers in the eyes before slamming the door shut, a thunderous echo bouncing around in his mind. 

Married. She was married— to Jacaerys. She was… she was to be round with child? She… was being touched by him? Caressed? Fucked? 

The thought of that bastard playing prince fucking Shera was enough to send Aemond into a blind rage— but he didn’t move. Rather, he slowly walked to her bed and kicked off his shoes carelessly to the side. 

He usually was organized, never casting off his bearings to the floor or out of sight— but he just didn’t care. The feeling of carelessness that swelled in his chest threatened to eat him alive. A fleeting thought of fire and blood and carnage and death flashed through him as he settled under the covers of Shera’s bed. 

[inshelliesworld]

Shellie’s Simple Lessons in Astrology:

I'm finally getting started!

My goal with these lessons is to help anyone interested to learn more about themselves by giving the basic tools and information to be able to look at their own chart and “decode” the language.

Before beginning this new endeavor, I wanted to cover a few basics about astrology’s history. And also a little bit about myself!

Astrology’s History:

Astrology is over 5000 years old. In Mesopotamia around 3000 BCE Babylonians became the first astronomers by recording and identifying the prominent constellations and their patterns. Babylonians also created the first zodiac wheel.

Constellation maps have existed far longer than maps of the world, and for centuries early civilizations used the rhythm and cycles of the Sun, Moon, & Stars to hunt, plant, harvest, migrate, and even to treat illnesses and ailments.

Astrology is a method of predicting human and earthly behavior based on the placements and movements of the sun, moon, and planets within the 12 zodiac constellations.

During the Middle Ages, astrology was a fundamental part of culture. Being practiced and studied by doctors, astronomers, and mathematicians alike. Advances in mathematics helped astrologers develop better, more accurate and sophisticated charts.

Belief in astrology began to decline as the church gained power. It was seen as superstition during the Holy Inquisition which is when Galileo Galilei was charged with heresy and was forced to renounce his astrological beliefs to save his life.

Today, the practice of astrology is seen and used as a form of entertainment. Although many societies and cultures still utilize the reading of the stars to successfully plant/harvest crops, kill weeds, plan surgeries, and ween their children from bottles & pacifiers. (More on the Farmer’s Almanac later!)

Shellie’s Herstory:

I’m self-taught! I’ve been studying astrology for nearly 30 years.

I started when I was 10 years old with my still-to-this-day-bestie. We used “The Only Astrology Book You’ll Ever Need” which we both still use today. We even taught ourselves to manually calculate full birth charts including ascendants (this was pre-Internet days!) and cast many charts for our friends over the years.

I try to find fun, simple, easy-to-digest ways to explain the complexities of astrology even when the learner has zero prior knowledge.

I try to make it a point to regularly remind everyone that no one person is all one thing and no two people are exactly the same. We are humans and are a complex amalgamation of nature and nurture. I once read something that said (save for twins born within the same minute via cesarean, etc) it would take 25,000 years for a natal chart to repeat exactly. So, safe to say everyone has their own, individual, unique birth chart!

Come learn with me! No matter how long I’ve been doing this, there are always new things to learn in this very old, very information-dense topic. So always bring questions – I don’t know everything but I love to research and learn new things!

[m1ckeyb3rry]

Pomegranate Ink: XVII

Series Synopsis: Unable to heal but willing to fight, with a fiancé in Kyoto and a last name that looms over everything you do, you accept an offer to study at Tokyo Jujutsu Tech. What you did not know was that your salvation and your ruination alike would soon join you at the school, neatly wrapped in the form of a boy followed by death.

Chapter Synopsis: You have an argument with your father before going to meet Yuta.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Yuta Okkotsu × Female Reader

Chapter Word Count: 5.4k

Content Warnings: angst, misogyny, naoya zenin, forbidden relationships, canon-typical violence, character death, original characters included

A/N: yuta reappearance yay!! enjoy the crumbs because he’s going to be gone until like shibuya now though

“Are you excited to visit Yuta?” Tullia said. She was sitting cross-legged on your bed, watching you pack, while Maki was frantically finishing the last of the summer homework that Kusakabe expected you all to turn in for the next class.

“Of course I am,” you said, folding a shirt and setting it in the small carry-on bag you were taking with you. You weren’t going for a long time, so you didn’t feel the need to bring an entire suitcase with you, but it was long enough that you’d definitely need a couple changes of clothes. “It’s been forever since I saw him last.”

“I’m jealous of you,” Maki said, her face reddening and cracks forming in the wood of her pencil from how hard she was gripping it. “Since you’ll be in Africa, you won’t have to worry about turning in this essay for Kusakabe!”

“Actually, I already turned it in,” you informed her. “As well as the rest of the work for the time that I’ll be missing. So the jealousy is unwarranted, because I’ve done more than you the past few days.”

“You’re such a nerd,” Maki said.

“Don’t blame me for your lack of planning,” you said. “Anyways, have you guys had the chance to meet the other first years yet?”

“Mm, nope!” Tullia said, apparently speaking for all them when she did so. “The higher ups have kept everyone busy, so it seems like we’re never at the school at the same time as them. Besides Fushiguro, we don’t know any of them.”

“The one boy, Itadori, is Sukuna’s vessel, and the other student is a girl, according to Gojo. That’s all I can tell you,” you said.

“Sukuna’s vessel,” Maki said. “I can’t believe we’re actually classmates with someone like that.”

“He’s a nice boy,” you said. “He didn’t seem to have ill intentions, so I don’t really mind it. Wasn’t it the same with Yuta? And see how he turned out. I think we’re past the point of judging people for whatever entities are attached to them.”

“Oh, I don’t disagree,” Maki said. “It’s just a little fantastical, is all. The King of Curses is our classmate — Tullia, for a frame of reference, it’s like if you went to school and suddenly you found out King George III would also be attending.”

“I know who Sukuna is,” Tullia said, giving her an incredulous look. “Since when are you informed on the American Revolution, though?”

“I did some light reading on it to make you feel more at home,” Maki said.

“Actually, I’m pretty sure Megumi’s the one that told her about that particular fact,” you said. Maki looked up from her essay to glare at you. You threw a sock at her in retaliation. “Don’t think she’s some kind of educated and well read woman. She still hasn’t finished her summer homework, so she’s definitely the opposite.”

“Okay,” Tullia said, sitting on her hands as a clear show of her neutrality in the argument. “Whatever you say.”

“Which one of us?” Maki said.

“Both?” Tullia said.

“Wait, we’re saying opposite things, so you can’t exactly go and say you agree with the two of us, can you? That’s not how it works,” you said.

“Um…Y/N, please be sure to pick up some souvenirs for us from wherever in Africa you’ll be visiting!” Tullia said in a rush. It was an obvious tactic to change the subject, but you and Maki exchanged looks and decided to allow it.

“Do you want food or something else?” you said.

“They probably wouldn’t let you bring food, at least not anything that would be really cool for you to bring back. Even if they did, it wouldn’t taste as good anymore,” Maki said.

“Something else it is. If anything catches my eye, I’ll be sure to get it. Gojo and Yuta will both be there; one of them can foot the bill. With those two having special grade salaries, I’ll really be upset if they make me pay for anything!” you said.

“Yuta would probably insist on paying, even if you were the better off between you two,” Tullia said. “I don’t think he’s the kind of boyfriend that’d let you lift a finger or open your wallet around him.”

“Plus Gojo just about starts crying from joy every time he gets to spend money on you, so you likely don’t have to worry about a thing,” Maki added.

“Exactly. So I'll get you guys something nice for sure!” you said.

“Alright!” Tullia said.

“Make sure to get something for yourself, too,” Maki said with a frown. “You’re always thinking of the rest of us, but it’s okay to think of yourself every now and then.”

You waved her off. “I have enough people thinking about me. I don’t need to add to the count.”

“If you say so,” Maki said.

Just then, there was a knock on your door. You frowned, wondering who had any business coming and knocking on your door. The two people that could be reliably counted upon to visit you were already sitting in the room, and if it was Toge or Panda, they’d have texted before coming. Gojo would just barge in, and even if he did by some miracle decide to knock, it wouldn’t be such a polite sound.

“Um, who is it?” you called out, shoving your suitcase to the side and standing, crossing the room to open the door and then flinching at the man who stood before you.

“Y/N,” he said. You swallowed, bowing your head at him.

“Father,” you said. “It’s a long way from our home to the school. Why have you come without announcing your arrival? Is something the matter?”

“I wanted to meet you and that girl of yours. The empty glass,” he said, gesturing towards the room. “May I come in?”

“Yes,” you said, “You’re in luck. Tullia’s in here already. Maki is as well, but whatever you want to say to us, you can say in front of her, so that shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Who was it — oh! Mr. L/N!” Tullia said, leaping from the bed and waving at your father. You briefly wondered how she knew it was him before remembering what Noritoshi had said about how she was making the L/N and Kamo clans pay for her college tuition, since they were so grateful to her for saving your life.

“Tullia,” he said. There was a slight measure of affection in his voice when he said her name, as if she were his daughter, not you. “It seems the L/Ns owe you a greater debt than we had first realized.”

“What?” she said. “I don’t know if I plan on going to grad school yet, but if I ever do, I’ll definitely contact you…though I don’t really know what you’re thankful for this time.”

“You’ve given that girl the power to heal as well as fight,” he said. “She so stubbornly insisted on fighting, but at least this way, our family’s legacy isn’t entirely lost with her.”

“That’s Y/N’s accomplishment, though,” Tullia said. “You should do something nice for her, for a change.”

Your father turned to look at you. You raised your chin at him, waiting for him to say something cruel, something demeaning — but he only nodded at you in acknowledgement.

“Yes, maybe that’s true,” he said. “Your mother asked about your health, by the way. Y/N. Should I tell her you’re well?”

“I doubt it matters to you whether I am or am not,” you said. Your father swallowed.

“Your mother asked,” he repeated. “You do not have to respond. I’ll tell her you’re the same as always.”

“Tell her Gojo misses her, too,” you dared to say. You knew your friendship with Gojo was one that aggravated the higher ups, and your father was no exception; Gojo was the one man who could protect you from their whims, the one person who you were unequivocally safe around. As long as you were with him, they could not punish you. They could not force you to be the dutiful little daughter that you had been for much of your life.

“Gojo is not someone who has any right to miss her,” your father said shortly.

“He loves her, too,” you said. “Probably more than you do. She cared for him when he was young, I’m told. Why shouldn’t he miss her?”

“Y/N, maybe you shouldn’t…” Tullia said, trailing off weakly. You knew it was different for her. You knew she still held some hope that she might be able to mend the relationship between her and her own parents, but it was not like that for you. You had long ago given up on your father. You had long ago realized what the nature of that relationship was.

The man who all but sold you off to the Kamos. The man who had refused to let you attend school. The man who had refused to heal Yuta. But he was also the man who had protected you from Naoya Zenin’s offers of marriage. He was also the man who had believed in you when you had to fight Todo. It had such a contrary nature, this relationship, but it was only after becoming friends with Maki did you realize that this was not how it was supposed to be.

People who loved one another were not contrary about it. You looked at Maki, sitting at your desk and pretending to write, and that gave you all of the strength that you needed.

“Father,” you said. “Was there a purpose to your visit, beyond just sending my mother’s regards and saying hello to Tullia? If that’s the case, then please hurry up and get on with it, because I am busy. Gojo and I are going on an overseas mission, so I need to finish packing.”

“Yes, that’s right. I heard the news,” he said.

“The news,” you repeated.

“That Sukuna has found a vessel, and that you were involved in saving him. You know the history our family has with that creature, don’t you? Please stay well away from him. It’s likely he resents your namesake for the role she played in his defeat,” he said.

“It’s not like I was planning on befriending Sukuna himself,” you said. “It’s like that, by the way. He does feel something strange about the entire situation; he was adamant that he could not kill me when we met the first time.”

“What?” your father said, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “Couldn’t kill you?”

“I’m as confused as you are, so don’t question me further. I don’t know why he’d say something like that,” you said.

“He must need you for something,” your father said. He was a practical man like that, always coming up with solutions and whatnot. “Think of what purpose a being like Sukuna could have for you, and you’ll have your answer.”

“I hardly know!” you said.

“Of course it won’t be that obvious!” he said, his temper flaring before he calmed it again. “It might take some time for you to understand what purpose you have for him, but I can assure you that whatever it is is most likely nefarious, so please don’t be fooled by his so-called kindness.”

“It wouldn’t describe it as kindness,” you said under your breath. “Was that all? Basic advice? I would’ve done all of that anyways, so it’s not like you’ve offered me anything profound by coming here. It could’ve just as easily been a text or email. A phone call, if you really missed the sound of my voice that much.”

“We’ve never discussed it in person, so I came to beg you, one last time, to give up fighting,” he said.

“Why? I can even heal, now that I’ve made that contract with Tullia and figured out how to manipulate it to our advantage. What point would there be in giving up fighting now?” you said.

“Sukuna has been reincarnated. Now that he’s found a vessel, and given what the higher ups plan on using him for, the level of curses that will appear from now on will be far beyond anything you can imagine, beyond anything any of us can imagine,” he said.

“All the more reason for me to fight,” you said. “I don’t know if you understand what it means for me to be a Grade 1 sorcerer — it means I’m strong. It means I’m one of the strongest sorcerers in active duty, only officially outclassed by three people: Gojo, Yuta, and Yuki Tsukumo. If the curses really will get that much stronger, then doesn’t it make sense for me to continue to fight? They need all the fighters they can get —”

“Do you think that you are special?” your father said, cutting you off. “You are not Satoru Gojo. You are not Yuta Okkotsu. You are not Yuki Tsukumo. I will not deny that you are a gifted fighter, leagues above most of your colleagues, but you are not a special grade sorcerer. There can be people to replace you. Noritoshi Kamo, Aoi Todo, Megumi Fushiguro, Toge Inumaki…all of these people will one day stand where you stand.”

“And all of them are men,” you noted. “Isn’t that interesting?”

“This isn’t about that,” he said. “I’m a man, and you don’t see me fighting, do you? Because I understand my strengths — something which you stubbornly refuse to do! Y/N, I didn’t come to belittle you, believe it or not. This is actually praise!”

“Praise!” you repeated with a laugh. There was a rustling of bedsheets as Tullia got up and went to stand by Maki, who by now had returned to her essay. Their attempt at giving you privacy. “What praise comes from you insulting my choice in occupation?”

“Y/N!” your father said. He said your name as if you were his existence’s biggest problem. You wished that he’d say it in a kinder way. “You brought someone back to life. Why can you not understand what that means? You are meant to be a healer! What you did for Yuta Okkotsu has only been done once before in all of history. It’s the kind of thing that myths are written about. You are not a healer but the healer, and yet you reject your fate!”

“I understand what you are saying,” you said.

“You do?” he said.

“Yes,” you said. “If you compare healers to fighters, then I’d be Gojo himself. A figure without precedent. The kind of person that changes the world just by existing. But I don’t want to be that person. I don’t want to change the world just by existing. I want to do something with myself! Healing kills me, father. I die every time I use the Reverse Cursed Technique. It is only through fighting that I may feel alive! I can’t go back to being who I once was. Do you understand that?”

“I do,” he said. “Because it was the same for me. And it was the same for my father before that, and for every other L/N that has possessed Dissection and Composition. All of us want to fight. How do you think it feels, seeing all of the people that come to us and knowing we can never stand by their sides? We are trapped by the constraints of who we are. We are L/Ns, and L/Ns don’t fight. We heal. That is how we contribute to society. That is how we have made a name for ourselves. That is what we are meant to do. Our very bodies are designed for it. Why do you insist on escaping that?”

“Then give me a new name,” you said. “Clearly, I am no L/N.”

He scoffed. “You don’t mean that. You are the example of a L/N. You cannot get away from that.”

“What if I go to Africa?” you said. “Will my name follow me there, too?”

“It will follow you no matter where you go,” he said. “Stop denying it. Give in to who you are meant to be.”

“Father, I can’t be who you want me to be. It’s not who I am. Won’t you accept that?” you said.

He gave you a measured look before nodding and turning away, striding towards the door and then pausing before shutting it behind him.

“I do accept it,” he said. “But I hope you fully realize what it means.”

The door shut before you could fire back a response. You settled for swearing at the wood paneling, stomping over and locking the handle before flopping back on your bed. Your motivation to pack had suddenly vanished entirely.

“Sorry you guys had to hear that,” you said. Maki and Tullia turned to me with fake smiles on their faces.

“Hear what? We didn’t hear anything,” Maki said.

“Yes, that’s right! We were so busy working on that essay,” Tullia said.

“You guys don’t have to lie. It’s fine. That’s how it’s always been. My father and I don’t get along, obviously. He’s always wanted me to be something that I’m not. Before, it was because I had no aptitude that I disappointed him so greatly, that I could not fulfill my destiny as another healer of the L/N clan. Now, it’s because I have so much aptitude that I frustrate him to this extent. It doesn’t matter what I do. It’ll never be what he wants,” you said.

“It’s fine,” Maki said. “I get it. You all know exactly what expectations my family had for me. Obviously I didn’t abide by those, so I understand what it’s like completely. You won’t find any judgment from me.”

Tullia let out a soft breath. “I don’t really know what my parents want from me anymore. I thought I might figure it out one day, but I don’t think I can. I don’t think that anything I can do will make them proud of me. So I get it, too.”

The three of you had all disappointed your families in some way or another. You, who refused to follow the path set out for you. Maki, who wasn’t even capable of following that path. And Tullia, who did not know what the path was in the first place. Things were different for people like you. People who had to fight in order to prove their worth instead of being given respect automatically. It was something that none of your peers would ever understand — because at least they had been given the grace of being born male. You all didn’t even get that much.

“Have a safe flight!” Maki said as she put your bag in the back of Ijichi’s car, alongside Gojo’s. “Tell Yuta we all said hi.”

This was said in a whisper; no one else knew that you and Gojo were going to check in on Yuta. The official reason was that he was going on a mission overseas, and you were accompanying Gojo as a part of your training. Although Kusakabe was your teacher now, you were technically ranked the same as him, so the higher ups had allowed for Gojo to continue to work as your instructor when situations arose that necessitated it.

“I will,” you said. “I’m sure he’ll be happy to hear it.”

“See you soon, Y/N! Just text me if you need to heal anyone,” Tullia said.

“There’ll be a time difference. What if you’re asleep?” you said.

“If you need me, I’ll wake up,” she said. “Pinky swear.”

You smiled at her, wrapping her in a hug, feeling the way your hearts beat in tandem. Tullia, who had given you half of yourself back; who would you be without her? She had saved your life. She had given you everything so that you could be happy, so that you could continue to fight. And here she was, continuing to sacrifice for your sake.

“Remind me to do something good for you once things settle down,” you said.

“I’ll get a PhD,” she said. “You can pay for that one.”

“Alright,” you said with a laugh. “Alright, Tullia. I’ll do that.”

The flight was not as long as you had imagined. You slept for most of it, Gojo turning off his Infinity so that you could use his shoulder as a pillow. He explained that flying got him too wired to rest, but he was glad that it was not like that for you. You were just glad that his shoulders were broad enough that you could comfortably rest against them until he shook you awake for the landing.

“Yuta doesn’t know you’re coming, by the way,” Gojo informed you.

“Why not?” you said.

“I thought it would be fun to surprise him!” Gojo said. You were about to argue, but then you decided that he was kind of right. You hadn’t mentioned your visit to Yuta, since you assumed Gojo had told him already, but you were suddenly glad you hadn’t, if only because imagining the look on his face when he finally saw you was incredibly satisfying.

“Okay,” you said.

“That’s it? I thought for sure you’d be annoyed,” Gojo said.

“I considered it, but to be honest, you were kind of right this time,” you said.

“Alright!” Gojo said, pumping his fist in the air. “I’ll let you guys have your reunion while I catch up with Miguel, so be sure to report all of the details of how it goes, okay?”

“Maybe not all of them,” you said. “But sure, I’ll tell you what most of it is like.”

“Good enough! Now go have fun,” Gojo said. “Have him take you around the city. You guys deserve some time off.”

“Isn’t it Miguel’s decision if Yuta gets time off?” you said. Gojo waved you off dismissively.

“I’ll convince him, so don’t worry about a thing! Seriously, you deserve to spend some time just relaxing with him. It’s a chance that you won’t get very often in your life, so take advantage of it,” he said.

“You’re right. Thank you, Gojo,” you said.

“Yeah, yeah. Anytime,” he said. “Now go.”

As the two of you rounded the corner, you saw him. He looked different now, but also the same: he was taller, his face narrower and his shoulders wider, a wrapped katana strapped across his back. His hair had grown longer, too, neatly parted now instead of falling in his face haphazardly. But his eyes were the same, though they had not landed upon you yet, still the exact shade of poison blue that you had grown to admire so dearly in the time that you had known him.

Seeing him again was like a great burden being knocked off your shoulders. It was as if you had not been able to fully breathe, and now you were inhaling great lungfuls of air to make up for the lack. To your surprise, something hot scalded your cheeks the longer you stared at him, and you realized you were actually crying.

“Yuta,” you whispered, taking one step and then finding that you were unable to contain yourself. Breaking into a run, you sprinted towards him, wanting for the distance to grow smaller in as quick of a time as possible. “Yuta!”

He turned as if he could not quite believe what he was hearing. You saw his forehead scrunch into an endearing expression as he mouthed something that you were certain was your name. When his eyes landed on you, they lit up, his entire countenance transforming from the gloomy man that scared off passersby to one who was so delighted he was all but glowing from it.

“Y/N!” he shouted, opening his arms. Without hesitation, you threw your bag to the side and flung yourself into them, wrapping your own around his torso and clenching the white fabric of his jacket in your fists.

He held you so tightly that you might’ve shattered if you were a lesser being. In fact, he held you like you had already shattered and he was the only thing that could keep you together, and maybe that really was the truth. For a while, you two stayed like that, clinging to one another in the middle of the airport, and then he finally let go, grabbing your face — however, this was gently done, softly, though the calluses of his fingers were rough against your cheeks and jaw.

“Are you really here?” he said.

“Yes,” you said, still a little in awe at all, too. “I’m really here.”

“Thank goodness. I’ve missed you more than I could bear,” he said.

“I’ve missed you, too,” you said. “So much.”

“You know,” he murmured. “Here in Africa, the higher ups don’t have any power.”

“Is that so?” you said.

“Mhm. They don’t have eyes everywhere, the way they do back home,” he said. “In fact, they don’t have eyes anywhere.”

“Convenient,” you said.

“You think?” he said.

“Yes. I’d rather not delay doing this, after all,” you said. With that, you allowed your hands to tangle in his hair, tugging on it, pulling him to your mouth so that he could fit his own against it. You stayed there for you didn’t know how long, savoring the taste of being reunited, relearning how each other worked, what had changed and what hadn’t in the time that had passed since you had met last.

It was when you pulled apart, each gasping for breath, that you had the sudden, horrible sense that you were being watched. Spinning around and ignoring the sound of surprise Yuta made, you glared at the two men very conspicuously trying to not look at you.

“Gojo!” you shouted, jabbing your finger at him. “Stop doing that! It’s so weird that you always show up at these moments!”

“Don’t blame this on me! I tried to tell Miguel to leave you guys alone, but he insisted we get a move on to his village before anyone got wind of us being associated with him!” Gojo said, holding his hands in the air as if to proclaim innocence.

“Sorry,” Miguel said, clearing his throat, obviously embarrassed. “I did not realize that you and my student were so, ah…close.”

“Well!” you said. “To be honest, that’s probably how a normal teacher-student relationship should be like. Gojo is just a meddling idiot who doesn’t understand that!”

“Your mother was my babysitter,” Gojo said. “I think we crossed the line of ‘normal teacher-student relationship’ several years ago!”

“You guys haven’t changed a bit,” Yuta said, holding your bag in one hand and using his other interlock his fingers with your own. “Miguel, sir, with your permission, can I take the day to show Y/N around the village once we return?”

Miguel distinctly avoided eye contact with both of you when he responded. “Go ahead, kid. I doubt you’ll get much training done while she’s here, anyways, so you might as well make the most of it.”

Gojo gave you a discreet thumbs up while Yuta and Miguel were distracted. You took the opportunity to flip him off before returning your attention to Yuta, leaning against his arm as you walked towards Miguel’s car.

“How have things been back home?” he said.

“Ugh. The same but also different,” you said. He frowned.

“Are the higher ups giving you trouble again?” he said.

“When are they not?” you said rhetorically. “My father came to see me. He thinks I should give up fighting.”

“Still? I thought you made it clear that you didn’t want to do that,” he said.

“Oh, right,” you realized. “You haven’t heard what’s been going on yet.”

You quickly summed up the most important events that had occurred since Yuta had left: this discovery of the contract you and Tullia had formed, Itadori manifesting as Sukuna’s vessel, Sukuna’s cryptic words about how he could not kill you. With every word you spoke, the crease between his brows deepened, until you finished and he was just about fully scowling.

“Of all the times to send me out of the country, it had to be right before all of this happened,” he said. “Why would you ask Itadori to let Sukuna out? What if you had gotten hurt?”

“Like I said, I knew Gojo was on his way, and in the meantime, if it came down to it, I had Megumi there to help me,” you said. This obviously did nothing to alleviate his concerns; if anything, it worsened them, as he gave you a look.

“Megumi is only a first year,” he said. “He’s nowhere near ready to fight Sukuna, even if he only has one finger’s worth of power.”

“You were only a first year, and already doing so much,” you said, poking him in the side as a reminder. He rolled his eyes.

“Yes, but Megumi isn’t me,” he said.

“He definitely isn’t,” you said. “That’s not a question. It’s why I got involved in the first place; without my intervention, there’s no telling what might’ve happened. He wasn’t meant to fight Sukuna; he was there to aid me, if things came to it, until Gojo could arrive. But things didn’t come to it, and I could’ve handled the situation completely easily, even if Sukuna didn’t have that weird aversion to fighting me.”

“I didn’t doubt that,” he said.

“Are you sure?” you said.

“It’s Megumi I was doubting!” he said hotly. “Not you. I was just worried about you. After all, everyone knows about Gojo’s track record of only showing up once all the action’s over.”

“That’s true,” you allowed. “You’ll not believe it, but that’s what happened that night, too…”

Yuta snorted. “No surprise.”

“Anyways, everything worked out fine. I didn’t get hurt, Megumi didn’t have to fight Sukuna, and Itadori proved his worth as a vessel. Overall, it was a success,” you said.

“They’re not going to execute Itadori?” Yuta said.

“They tried. Megumi didn’t want it to happen like that, so he asked Gojo to stop it. I showed my support,” you said.

“Why?” he said. “You of all people would know how dangerous Sukuna is.”

“Of course, but the situation reminded me too much of yours. If the higher ups had executed you that night, I don’t know what I would’ve done,” you said, grasping him tighter at just the thought. What would your life be like if you had lost Yuta that night? If you had never known him in the first place, if he had never been yours to lose at all? Where would you even be now? Still a disappointment, probably, but of a different sort.

He exhaled through his nose. “You’re right.”

“He’s a very kind person. Sukuna’s vessel, I mean; he’s genuinely very sweet. It’s odd to think that such a terrible creature lives inside of him,” you said.

“It seems like you’ve been making a lot of friends,” he noted. “With Megumi and Itadori and all.”

“I guess so, but I still spend most of my time with Maki and Tullia,” you said. “Those two are just my underclassmen, so I have to look out for them as best I can. It’s kind of like how Gojo is with us, except unlike Gojo, I’m not a little creep about it.”

“He is so odd,” Yuta agreed. “No wonder he’s still single.”

“Very true,” you said. “But enough talking about this kind of thing. We have souvenirs to buy!”

“Souvenirs?” he said. You nodded.

“Yes, Maki and Tullia asked for some, so I promised to bring stuff back for them,” you said. “Where are the best shops around here?”

“I’ll take you,” Yuta said fondly. “We have to make the best of this trip, right? I’m not about to let you go shopping by yourself.”

“Uh, I wasn’t planning on going by myself. In an unfortunate turn of events, I seem to have forgotten my purse at home,” you said.

“What a shocking plot twist, indeed,” Yuta said dryly. “It’s okay. I wouldn’t have let you use it, so it’s not that unfortunate.”

“I love you,” you said.

“I know,” he said.

He still refused to say it back. He still couldn’t say it back, still had that thought in his mind that it would kill you or curse you or something if he did, but you didn’t mind. You understood his reasoning, even if you found it a little superstitious, and you understood that it didn’t mean anything in the long run, didn’t mean he cared for you any less.

And when he squeezed your hand in a secret, quiet response, undercutting his seemingly callous words, you understood that, too.

[miakorei]

Thinking about seriously yandere serial killer/vigilante Izuku who shows his veiled love to Tsukauchi through the villains he kills. Each murder is an act of dedication to  Tsukauchi, but nobody else seems to have caught on yet (minus Nedzu and a few others who thankfully are also morally dubious). This is how Tsukauchi has stayed the lead on the case despite the obvious conflict of interest. 

Tsukauchi has gotten a lot of shit from heroes and villains alike when it comes to doing his job as a policeman. He just wasn’t special enough. He’s always been delegated to fade into the background—just the nice guy who was reliable. Surface level things were all anyone could ever say about him. He was never anyone’s first pick and never in the spotlight.

Tsukauchi just wasn’t very notable outside of his little circle, even with his unique quirk. And even within that circle, any answers pertaining to Tsukauchi Noamasa’s personal life practically seemed scripted. Minuscule information that was almost all exactly the same regardless of who relayed it. It was by his design, but it still felt lonely from time to time.

That was why the dedication and passion directed at him from this new serial killer was honestly flattering. Tsukauchi is not as nice and upright as his quirk has forced him to be. His inclinations have always strayed darker. The obsessive tendencies the killer so obviously displayed was like a heady drug for Tsukauchi. He basked in it every crime scene he showed up to— and he showed up to all of them. Which is why he had to be careful and made sure to dart around his own quirk.

Tsukauchi might not lie, but he’s not really telling the truth either— sometimes he would expertly redirect the topic altogether. Something he had begun to do for his amusement when he was younger, had become an absolute necessity with this case. Both him and the serial killer couldn't afford for Tsukauchi to be found out now. At the very least, it would result in the removal of him from the case and some other random officer taking over. Just the thought of someone else leading the case on his serial killer left a bad taste in his mouth.

It took alot of intelligence, both emotional and otherwise, to manipulate people and conversations to such a degree— especially when he had a built in mechanism to tell people when he was lying. A single mishap and he was in visible pain. This person’s actions were all catered specifically to Tsukauchi— to the him that was waiting to be discovered by someone who had the desire and half a mind. He was good at hiding, but he honestly wasn’t trying that hard. If anyone looked close enough, they’d see the discrepancies and grow suspicious. Which is why his mystery killer’s dedications made him feel so seen. 

Tsukauchi is a lot more than just the same shallow compliments people have tacked on him over the years. And if the only person that recognized it was some unknown killer who left gifts for him disguised as morbid puzzles, then so be it. These games of death were the most alive Tsukauchi has ever felt and he didn’t feel like ending them any time soon. Maybe one day he would have to meet the elusive serial killer, if only to take him out on a proper date. After all, he was a “nice, upstanding guy” right?

AN: This pairing came into existence thanks to a misunderstanding from my friends on discord. I’ve now been delegated the role of pioneering the Tsukauchi x Izuku agenda. We’ve decided the pairing name will be Izukauchi or Truthless— referencing the two’s quirks. Cursed or not, until next time <3

[hypnotisedfireflies]

Ask Real Nice Pt3

It's actually kind of nice writing something in such short installments. It's all I have time for with all the other stories anyway, but these little bursts are just stress-free fun. So yeah, enjoy this third part of Ask Real Nice, AKA the Ask Drabble That Could.

Starts Here.

Maria made it very clear, in no uncertain terms, that Joel was in charge of the rescue party.  She looked at the other three arrayed before her outside the gates of Jackson.  Zahra, with her backpack teeming with medical supplies;  Patrick, a Glock tucked in the front of his bulletproof vest and sniper rifle across his shoulder;  Sasha, nervous but determined and finally Tosh, the only one amongst them wearing a helmet.  It was a good group, fighters all.  But none of them had a slice of the experience that she understood Joel to possess.

It was maybe a five hour ride to Hoback.  Joel told them they would stay the highway for the fastest progress until they closed in on the town, then skirt the mountains for the track that was promised to lead them to Tommy.  Maria rode point with him. 

The journey was the longest Maria had spent almost exclusively in Joel’s company.  Someone else was always around, Tommy, maybe Tess.  Determined to keep her mind off her worst fears of what they might find in Hoback, Maria refocused her attention on Joel and tried to keep it there without getting caught.  He was centred on the way ahead.

When Joel had first shown up in Jackson, Maria had not been able to spot any resemblance between him and his brother.  Joel had seemed so much older, for a start.  Tommy had come to Jackson as careworn and lean as a stray dog – but alive, taut like a bow-string.  Joel had come under a cloak of pain and secrecy and suspicion.  Maria had feared for the girl in his charge.  She had a pack of Tommy’s stories of the full, brutal extent of Joel’s capabilities. 

But they rode the same:  hand on thigh, reins held low against their leg, the same tilt of the head.  In fact, Maria had glimpsed Joel through the trees once or twice and her heart had leapt.  He could almost – almost have been her husband.  It was a strange composition in her mind because physically their bearing was not so alike but somehow, they reflected a similar presence.

“Joel.”

He kept riding.

“Joel!”

Annoyed, Maria pulled her horse diagonally across the highway to the shoulder upon which Joel rode. 

“Joel!”

He looked over with a little start.  And then it clicked – she was riding on his deaf side.  She rubbed the reins between her fingers.   Tess was usually positioned on this side, ready to intercept. 

“What?”

“Are we going to talk about a plan?”

Joel leaned her way, headed tilted to listen.  “Maybe you should ride round the other side.”

“Or maybe this is exactly where I need to be.  Your hearing’s really bad, isn’t it?  What happened?”

“Don’t know.  Could’ve been anything.  My money’s on the grenade.”  Beat.  “Guessin’ you know about that.”

“Indianapolis?” 

“That would be it, ma’am.”

“A plan, Joel.  What’s the plan?”

“We’ll leave the highway soon.  I reckon we’re not far, now.  Then we’ll send a scout in – maybe Tosh, she’s fast and quiet – make sure those assholes were telling the truth.  No sense making a plan until we know that.”

Maria shot him a look.  “You don’t know if they were telling the truth?”

“Information seemed solid.  But you never can tell.  You get better at tellin’ with time,” he admitted, keeping his gaze directly ahead, “if you can put any stock in it or not.  Tess seemed to think it was pretty good.  And Tess is usually right.”

“And if it’s what they said?  What’s the plan then?”

“What?”

“What’s the plan if it’s what they said?”

“How many people you killed, Maria?”

Maria clicked her tongue.  “Excuse me, now?”

“How many people?  Anyone?”

“I killed people,” she answered.  Her temper, marinating with her fear, was quick to spark.  “I’ve done what I had to do, same as everyone else.”

“Killed unarmed people?”

“I know where you’re going with this.”

“What?”

“I know where you’re going with this!”

“Keep your fuckin’ voice down.”

Maria squeezed her reins and curled up her toes.  She wanted to tell him to clean his fucking ears out.  She breathed out, long and slow, imagining all her frustration going with it.

“I can do what I need to.  I want Tommy back, and that’s all that matters.”

Joel gave her a long, appraising look.  He was so much like his brother in that moment that Maria felt the final vestiges of her anger melt away.

“Don’t ice me out here, Joel.  That’s my husband.”

“Well, all right,” Joel shrugged.  Maybe he rolled his eyes – maybe she imagined it.  He was such an asshole.  “Off the road here.  We’ll cut through here to the track.”

Part Four

[bitacrytic]

Overheat [36 & 37]

Read Previous Chapter Here

-

“I’m so sorry,” Pete repeated.

Vegas didn’t know what to do, so he pulled Pete into his arms, rocking him slowly as Kinn shrugged.

“It’s fine.” He scoffed. “When this is all over, I’ll get my lick back. Don’t worry about me.”

-

-

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

-

Someone was watching him.

Pete didn't know for sure. But ever since his meeting with Porsche, Vegas and Kinn, he got the sense that someone was following him, watching him, cataloging his every move. His mind kept going back to the day he was kidnapped. That was when it had all started.

With Wan and his video. It would have been so easy to draw a line from Tawan to Wan, seeing as their names sounded alike. Pete wanted this to be over so badly that he was slowly beginning to convince himself that that was enough proof. But then he'd remember that the man they'd let go of, had run to Tod. And then another voice in his head would remind him that both of them were probably in it together.

And if they were in it together, Tawan’s father had the resources to put a tail on Pete and Tod had the resources to hack into public cameras to spy on Pete. In which case, they must already have known that Pete had flipped and was feeding them fucked information. Which meant that, any day now, his video was going to be released.

He woke up every morning, checking social media for the video. And with each morning that he found nothing, the eye on his back seemed to grow stronger and stronger. A whole week after their meeting in Kinn’s hospital room, Pete hadn’t heard anything. He wondered if he should allow himself to breathe. If he should calm down and let Vegas and Kinn solve it, just Porsche had said.

Or if he ought to do something, himself. After all, he’d learned pretty quickly in life to depend on no one but himself. And Kinn. He’d grown to depend on Kinn. But Kinn was angry with him. There was a chance that Kinn wasn’t doing things in Pete’s best interest.

Not that Pete didn’t deserve it.

After dinner, that evening, as he was on his way back to his room, Vegas called.

“Are you busy?”

“No, not really.”

“I’m following a lead. Would you like to come?”

In twenty minutes, they were stationed outside an abandoned warehouse, perched on the roof, across the street from the main entrance. Vegas came, armed with a camera and a pair of binoculars.

“You take this,” he said, handing the binoculars to Pete. “If you see anything sketchy, let me know.”

While Vegas took pictures of cars that were coming and going, and also pictures of anyone entering or exiting the warehouse, Pete surveyed the area, extending the binoculars as far as it could go.

“What are we doing here?” Pete asked.

“Nop heard chatter from two different gangs that were meeting here. Which was strange, on its own. But the further he looked into it, it wasn’t really the whole gang. It was just one person or a couple of people from most gangs.” He sat up, dropping the camera for a moment. “Gambit is a new company. I’ve known from the beginning that we’re dealing with new people. But maybe I was half right.”

“What do you mean?”

“I monitored Tod this whole week and I’ve got nothing on him and Tawan. They’ve never met. They don’t do business together and Tawan doesn’t even fit Tod’s type.”

“Right,” Pete agreed. “Alpha business man. Which, Tawan is not.”

“Exactly.”

“But we saw the prisoner go straight to him.”

“Probably the same way the gang members from other gangs are meeting here.”

“You think someone is picking members that already belong to existing gangs?” Pete asked.

“Sounds like it to me,” Vegas replied, holding up his camera and taking more pictures as more people arrived. “With these pictures, we can know which gangs have been compromised.”

“Wait, so does that mean Tawan is doing this all alone?”

Vegas sighed. “Kinn seems to think Tawan has nothing to do with it. Maybe he doesn’t. Maybe Kinn is right. But right now, I’m not trusting anybody. Even Tod, for all I know. I mean, he doesn’t have to meet his partner to get the job done.”

True, Pete thought. They could be following the right leads. Or they could have missed the real mastermind, just because they were following the obvious.

Beside him, Vegas pulled out a packet of suppressants, popped one tablet out and swallowed it. Pete cringed inwardly, wondering if he should shut the fuck up and mind his business. He knew he should. He really ought. But before he could get a proper hold on his tongue-

"You had one of those at breakfast," Pete said.

"Yeah, so?" Vegas asked, returning the packet to his pocket as he picked his camera again.

Pete reached over and pressed the camera back down. "You had one during break and one during lunch. It's barely past dinnertime and you're having another. That's four doses in less than fifteen hours, Vegas. What's going on?"

"It's nothing."

They'd only known each other for a few months, and in that time, they hadn't always shared the heaviest of secrets with each other. Pete had been careful not to ask for too much that would set off warning bells in Vegas' head. But the few times he'd asked, Vegas had been forthcoming. He'd spoken to Pete in honesty, opening up like he couldn't wait to share his world with Pete. Like he couldn't wait to have Pete understand whatever it was he was asking about.

"I know you have no reason to trust me-"

"It's not that."

"Then what's going on? Suppressants are three times a day. The rate at which you're taking them, you'll take at least two more doses before the day runs out."

Vegas' lips trembled as he bit them, a frown appearing on his face. He looked at Pete and for a second, Pete was sure he saw the same tenderness that used to be in Vegas' eyes when he looked at Pete, before.

"It's stupid. Ken thinks I'm stupid."

"What is it?"

Vegas sighed. "I was..." he pinched the bridge of his nose. "I was waiting for the cycle break that’s coming up soon."

"Why?" Pete asked. "You're not in the production. You can have your cycle whenever you want."

Vegas gave Pete a tired, exasperated look. “I was waiting for you, dumbass.”

The insult didn’t stick. If anything, it came out soft and indulgent, almost like a term of endearment, in the way his eyes lighted, looking right into Pete’s. Too many things were happening all at once. He was sure Vegas had just said he was postponing his rut, so it could coincide with Pete’s heat. He had just said… while looking at Pete like that. He’d just said…

Pete’s mouth went dry as his throat nearly clogged up from his heart shooting up from his chest. Considering what they’d just been through, the fact that Vegas wanted… Vegas was putting himself through the discomfort of extending his rut, just so they could spend their cycles together. Pete’s head swarmed with possibilities as they sat there, in the shadow of the boulder, staring into each other’s eyes.

He wanted to kiss Vegas, but he didn’t know how appropriate that would be. They were in a shaky place and Pete was being careful. But there Vegas was, offering a kind of permanence that Pete had never had in his life. He’d never even thought he’d want to mate with someone, let alone, do it with a member of the mafia. With a man he’d only known a few months.

And yet, here he was, contemplating spending the rest of his life with this man. Giving up all other possibilities for love by accepting and giving the bite. The bite, oh god, he thought, feeling giddy and confused at the idea of wanting it. It was such a silly idea. Pete was an omega and a career-driven actor with a bright future. He’d always shied away from shared cycles because people didn’t know he was an omega. That was a secret he was going to take to his grave.

He never imagined meeting someone who knew what he was, but wasn’t threatened by the fact that he was an omega who was also working. Someone who was romantically interested in Pete, but didn’t treat him as less. Because that was when they acted differently. Pete was a human being. Pete was a person. Until someone wanted to fuck him and suddenly, he had to know his place. Even when they thought he was a beta.

None of that had happened with Vegas. Pete couldn’t even look back on their interactions and pinpoint the moment when Vegas had found out that he was an omega. Because Vegas’ behavior never changed. Pete was Pete before Vegas knew. Pete was still Pete after.

“Say something,” Vegas said, as worry etched into his face.

“Oh,” Pete said, snapping out of it. “You wanted us to… to mate?”

“What?” Vegas asked, sounding confused. “No. No, we were going to use mouth guards. I just wanted us to spend the cycle together. Get to know each other and clear the air between us, you know?”

Mouth guards. Right, Pete thought. The things that alphas and omegas put in their mouths to keep from mistakenly biting each other. Pete nearly choked as his heart went tumbling down in his chest. How stupid was he to think that someone like Vegas would want to mate him? A lying, dishonest, untrustworthy piece of shit like Pete. Of course. He should have known. Vegas just wanted cycle sex. He wanted a wanton omega in heat who could give him unimaginable pleasure.

He didn’t want forever with Pete.

Pete shivered, feeling like someone had just doused him with cold water.

“You think I’m stupid, too,” Vegas said.

“What? No. Of course not.” He tried to laugh to dislodge the heaviness in his chest. He wished he could rewind the time to two minutes ago. Before he’d overestimated his value and started planning a life with a man who didn’t trust him. “You’re not stupid,” he said. “But, you should know though. I’m not having my cycle during the cycle break.”

“Why not?”

“I’m supposed to be a beta, Vegas. Remember?” he asked. “Wan may have forced me into a heat, two weeks before camp, but I was going to do it myself, regardless. I can’t have a cycle break while others are on break. I have to be visible. I have to go to meetings and show my face around other beta actors and employees. People have to see me moving around during the cycle break or else they’d start asking questions about me. I’ll get my next heat after the production is done.”

Vegas’ mouth fell open as he smacked his own forehead. “Ken was right. I am stupid. I should have known.”

“Hey,” Pete laughed, grabbing Vegas’ hands. “Don’t hit yourself.”

“I just thought-”

“I know what you thought. It’s okay.” And without meaning to, his treacherous mouth opened and said, “If you want, I can visit though. I can come see you during your rut.”

“Yeah,” Vegas said with a little nod. “I’d like that.”

Yeah, Pete thought, smiling even though dread filled his stomach. How could Vegas think himself to be stupid, when Pete had just committed himself to spending time with a rutting alpha? How couldn’t he see that Pete was the fool willing to put his life and career on the line for a man who didn’t trust him?

Spending time alone with Vegas in a rut? What on earth could go wrong?

-

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

-

They waited till the meeting was over and took more pictures. Vegas was sure he’d gotten everyone who entered the building through this entrance. He just wanted to be thorough. He hoped Kinn and Porsche were just as thorough, at the other entrance. Because they would be totally fucked if they missed even one person.

Two hours and almost a hundred pictures later, they packed up and started heading back to the hotel, where they met at Pete and Porsche’s room.

“Did you see any familiar faces?” Vegas asked as soon as they entered the room.

Kinn shook his head. “Maybe we’ll see better now we’re here. The screen was too tiny.”

“Tiny, how? Do you need glasses?”

“Memory card,” Kinn said, holding out his hand as Vegas gave it to him.

The room was dark and Porsche had already set up a projector on his bed that was screened against the wall. On Pete’s bed, Kinn’s laptop sat, waiting for Kinn to return.

“What…” Pete began. “What’s going on?”

“We’re making notes of the faces we recognize and cataloging the pictures as evidence for their gang leaders.”

“What makes you think the leaders didn’t send those people to represent them?” Porsche asked. “I mean, maybe they’re all planning to join up.”

“We’re not the only ones who’ve been hit in the past year. Nop said a lot of lower gangs have been losing territory, and a lot of the high prestige ones have been losing business deals. Leaders aren’t happy. They want to know where their leaks are.”

“Come. Sit,” Porsche offered Vegas.

Picture after picture, they marked the number, the face in the picture and the gang they belonged to. Seeing as Kinn had put in his card first, it was going to take a while to get to Vegas’ card. But that was okay. They had all night anyway. With Vegas offering commentary, while Porsche controlled the projector and Kinn took notes, Vegas couldn’t help wondering why Pete was so quiet.

Took him a moment to remember that Kinn and Pete were still in a weird place. And Kinn was sitting at the foot of Pete’s bed, while Pete had curled into himself at the head of the bed, placing his pillows between himself and Kinn like it was some worthy barrier. Wanting to comfort him, Vegas took off his shoes and slipped behind the barrier with Pete as Pete looked at him, startled.

“Shhh,” he said to Pete before turning back to the projector.

“Don’t do anything funky, over there,” Porsche said. “I know the room is dark and all, but we can still hear that shit.”

Vegas rolled his eyes as Kinn turned back to look at them with disgust in his face.

“Oh, for fuck sake,” Kinn said, grabbing his laptop and moving to Porsche’s bed. “Seriously, I’m in the room.”

“Don’t be weird. We’re not doing anything. Pete, were we doing anything?”

“No,” Pete answered, honestly.

“Yeah right,” Porsche said with a scoff.

“Can we get back to the business at hand?” Vegas asked, gesturing at the screen.

Porsche flicked to the next picture and Kinn sat up.

“Wait.”

“What?” Vegas asked.

“I can’t really see the face on that person, but I recognize that green and blue coat. Go back.”

Porsche went to the previous picture, but the person in the green and blue coat was still backing the camera. So Porsche went back about three more pictures before they found one where the man was facing the camera, but he wasn’t at the center of the picture.

“Can you zoom in?”

Porsche shifted the focus to the corner where the man was and zoomed in on the picture to reveal the face.

“Oh wow,” Vegas said, not even bothering to be surprised by what he was seeing.

“Who’s that?” Pete asked.

“It’s-” Vegas began to say as Kinn beat him to it.

“It’s Tawan. I recognized the coat because he was wearing it when I saw him a few hours ago.”

“You saw him today?” Porsche asked, a frown etched in his face.

“It-it wasn’t like that. I wanted to find out what he knows about his father’s activities.”

“I hope you didn’t tell him too much about what we know, given that he’s the fucking mastermind.”

“Porsche-”

“Please don’t defend him right now.”

“I’m not,” Kinn said, almost sounding like he was pleading. “We know who it is now. We have a face to put on the issue. I’m not going to defend him.”

“What did he tell you?” Porsche asked. “What did he want?”

“I don’t know. He’s never really asked me for anything.”

“Are you sure?” Vegas asked. “Because if he’s the mastermind, then I get why he sent Pete into my business.”

“You do?” Pete asked.

“He’s going after gangs. He didn’t need to send someone into the main family because he plans to marry into it. But he sent you to me.” Vegas turned to Kinn. “We’re family, but we don’t operate like it.”

“You’re right,” Kinn agreed. “Your father has been adamant about keeping the minor family’s accounts separate from the main family.”

“We run our own deals, our own territories. Even our allies aren’t always main family allies.”

“You’re like two different gangs with the same name,” Porsche said.

“Exactly. Even if Tawan knew he was going to become Kinn’s omega, there was no guarantee his power would extend to the minor family.”

“We know what he wanted me to do with you,” Pete said. “But what’s his plan with Kinn been? He’s been all over the place.”

“Kinn, please try to remember,” Porsche said. “What is the one thing he keeps talking about?”

Kinn shook his head, as his brows furrowed in concentration.

“He asked me to keep his father locked up.”

“What?” Vegas asked, sitting up.

“Yeah,” Kinn said with a shrug. “The councilman is in my basement.”

As Vegas laughed at the absurdity of it all, Pete said, “Is he going to try and frame you for kidnapping?”

“That won’t help him if he wants Kinn to marry him into the family,” Porsche offered.

“So what’s he been asking for?”

“I think…” he said, still looking unsure. “He’s mentioned my father a few times.”

“How?”

“When we were locked up, he pointed out that Papa knew where I was but did nothing about it. Then when we had drinks earlier today, he asked me to cut Papa off and take control of the entire family business.”

Vegas wasn’t sure whether to be pissed or impressed, so he settled on being both. Because Tawan was a fucking genius.

“He wanted you to cut out the most important person in your life,” Vegas said.

“What?” Kinn asked.

“Think about it. You don’t cough unless you discuss it with your father.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“He’s right,” Porsche said. “You’re an obedient son. You’ve always been an obedient son.”

“If I wanted to marry you and rule alongside you, I wouldn’t want your controlling father anywhere near our empire,” Vegas said.

“Wait,” Kinn said, turning from the projector to face all of them. “You’re saying he did all that… abducted me and kept me for a week, only to release me just because he wanted me to hate my father?”

“It worked, Kinn,” Porsche said. “That day I came to see you at the hospital, right after we got you back, I heard you speaking to your father in a way I’ve never heard you speaking to him before in my entire life.”

That was news to Vegas.

“You raised your voice at Uncle Korn?”

“It was a conversation.”

“Your father asked you to take an omega as a mate and you told him no.”

“Fuck, you heard that?” Kinn asked, looking distraught.

“You really told him no,” Vegas asked, wondering where the boldness had come from. Because it was an unspoken rule. Theerapanyakuls didn’t talk back to their fathers. Ever.

“He was being unreasonable.”

Vegas couldn’t stop his eyes from widening in shock because since when did Kinn talk about his father like that?

“See?” Porsche said. “Tawan already got what he wanted.”

“He made valid points.”

“I’m not disputing that,” Porsche said. “But if his goal was to sever ties between you and your father, he’s done well.”

“Why though?” Pete asked.

“Why what?” Vegas asked.

“He’s an omega,” Pete explained. “He had Phi-Kinn tied up and at his mercy. Why didn’t he just bite him instead of letting him go? Seems a bit convoluted for an omega who could control his alpha with a single bite.”

Once again, they were back at the same question that had plagued them since that first day at the hospital. Why hadn’t Tawan bitten Kinn?

Porsche smacked his bed as he sat up with a smile on his face.

“He’s not an omega.”

“What?” Vegas and Pete asked as Kinn looked at Porsche with worried confusion.

“That’s it,” Porsche said.

“That’s a pretty big leap.”

“It never made sense. He was in heat. He couldn’t control himself. Kinn, that’s what you said. If he had no control, then why didn’t he just bite you? At least, by mistake.”

“Why would he claim to be an omega and lose his job?”

“Because he was coming after you and we all know that Kinn only fucks with omegas.” Porsche jumped up from his bed. “I’m smart. Look at me,” he said, pointing at himself.

Considering the things they’d figured out about Tawan, it wasn’t so far-fetched to imagine that he’d hatched such a plan more than a year ago. Because Korn had started putting out feelers for Kinn’s mate, two years ago. The timeline matched up. He’d planned this whole thing and waited. If this went off without a hitch, Tawan Apinya would be the king of the Thailand underworld with a Theerapanyakul alpha on his arm.

“What about his pheromones?” Kinn asked. “He was feverish. He looked dead on his feet. He…” Kinn hesitated. “How come he was… open… down there? I never saw him prep himself. Not once.”

“Did he ever go out of sight?” Pete asked. “For more than a few minutes? Because you can prep yourself and use omega-treated lubricants to trigger an alpha, but also to keep it loose down there.”

Kinn sat, blinking steadily as a look of devastated horror crept into his face.

“What is it?”

“He locked himself in the bathroom for hours.” His voice trembled as he spoke. “He pretended that he was protecting himself from me and hid in there. The next time the door was opened, he was smelling like he was in heat, looking like he was in heat.” He looked at Porsche like he wanted to cry. “He… felt… like he was in heat.”

“Oh Kinn,” Porsche said, getting back on the bed and crawling to Kinn, just as Kinn got up from the bed.

“It’s not like I’m…” he rubbed his hand over his face. “I know where you’re about to go with this conversation, Porsche. Let’s not do that, right now. Please. I c-I can’t-”

“Okay,” Porsche agreed, nodding. “Alright. We don’t have to.”

Vegas could see that his cousin was a few seconds from breaking, but they had to push on. They’d made progress and none of them could leave that room without a proper plane, or else someone would go and do something to ruin everything.

“You have to play along, Phi-Kinn,” Vegas said.

“The fuck?” Porsche replied, eyes snapping to Vegas with anger. “He’s not going anywhere near that fucking snake.”

“I have to,” Kinn said, slowly sitting back on the bed.

“Listen to me-” Porsche said.

“He has Pete’s video,” Kinn said.

Porsche’s mouth shut, immediately.

“Phi-Kinn has to stay away from his father and meet with Tawan whenever he calls until we can find a way to get rid of that video and every single copy of it.”

“Until then, Kinn has to… he has to be around his… he has to talk to Tawan like nothing happened?” Porsche asked, horrified.

“It sounds bad, Porsche. But it’s what we’ve got.”

“I’m so sorry, Phi-Kinn,” Pete said, his eyes glistening with tears as he looked at Kinn. “Because of me-”

“Don’t even say that,” Kinn said. “You’re my prized jewel, remember?” Kinn tried to sound lighthearted, but it came out dry and pained.

“I’m so sorry,” Pete repeated.

Vegas didn’t know what to do, so he pulled Pete into his arms, rocking him slowly as Kinn shrugged.

“It’s fine.” He scoffed. “When this is all over, I’ll get my lick back. Don’t worry about me.”

Vegas was utterly relieved to hear that. Because if they were going into battle, he didn’t want a traumatized alpha at the helm. He wanted a pissed one that was out for vengeance. And judging by the look in Kinn’s eyes, Vegas was grateful that he was going to get the latter.

[impishtubist]

Actually, I’ve got more thoughts concerning Neville and the people who tortured his parents and DADA class, and I’m incapable of shutting up so here we go. First and second year seem to be relatively alright for Neville in terms of that, but from third year on, the poor boy’s got terrible luck.

Third year, Sirius Black (cousin of Bellatrix, which is likely to be of particular focus for Neville considering who Bellatrix is to him) escapes from a previously inescapable prison and also Neville has to be the Boggart demonstration (I maintain that POA, the book that is key to the Second War beginning because it sets the Peter plot in motion, would have been a fantastic time to show the effects the First War left on everyone, maybe by Neville going up to the Boggart, everyone expecting Snape or Potions (but something that’s scary, but not emotionally raw and painful), and instead they get one do the most infamous Death Eaters standing in the room and cackling about how she escaped from prison to finish what she started 12 years ago and kill Neville (plus, Harry is operating under tue impression Sirius escaped from prison to murder him, we’d get Neville-Harry parallels, Harry as the chosen one and Neville viewed as the spare but with similar fears as Harry concerning what happened to their family. The difference is almost nobody tells Harry exactly what happened that fateful Halloween, Neville knows exactly who destroyed his family). Remus is looking at a mad Bellatrix Lestrange, she’s got the same looks as Sirius and Sirius always despised that they look so alike but maybe that was just one more lie Sirius told Remus if he lied about everything else, she’s laughing the same way Sirius did after betraying the Potters and killing Peter, she’s talking about escaping from prison to murder a child she practically orphaned and it’s the same reason Sirius escaped or so everyone believes, you can’t convince me this shouldn’t have been the way the scene went down).

Fourth year, Neville is being taught by one of the people responsible for torturing his parents until their minds broke, and this man even demonstrates the Cruciatus curse in front of Neville. It’s not until Hermione yells at him to stop that it becomes evident Neville is genuinely distressed by the sight of this because he’s aware that this is exactly what happened to his family, and then BCJ proceeds to act as if he’s comforting Neville, knowing the entire time that he helped wreck Neville’s family.

Fifth year, they’ve got sheer staggering uselessness, she won’t teach them practical knowledge so they form the DA, and then the breakout happens and the people who essentially murdered Frank and Alice are free again. He then gets confronted by Bellatrix at the DOM (slightly funny that it’s entirely possible he had no idea Sirius was innocent but just rolled with it to help Harry though), and she uses the Cruciatus on him; this woman used that same curse to permanently shatter his parents’ minds, he’s very aware that the pain he’s feeling was the last thing his parents were consciously aware of and that if she keeps this going long enough he might end up as a permanent resident in the hospital, and this whole things is a result of some prophecy that her master is interested. Also, there’s the parallel of her torturing Neville to make Harry hand over the prophecy to help her Matter, and her torturing his parents all those years ago to get information on what happened to that same Master.

Sixth year, he’s being taught by a former Death Eater, the very Death Eater that told Voldemort the prophecy that destroyed Harry and Neville during the First War. This teacher has been nothing but horrible to Neville for 6 years, and then this teacher helps murder the headmaster and it looks like Neville’s spent 6 years being taught by a man who never quit being a Death Eater at all. Also, Death Eaters are brought into the school during this, Neville’s having a terrible time. Seventh year really does not need to be talked about, because Hogwarts is under control of Death Eaters. There’s then a literal battle and Voldemort sets his head on fire for a bit. TLDR: Neville and the DADA classes he attends are particularly awful for him starting from third year on, especially when related to the Longbottom attack.

😭😭😭😭 I don't have anything to add to this except that Neville is so good and he deserved better, ugh, he suffers SO MUCH and it's never acknowledged!

I need this AU fic where it's Bellatrix who appears during the DADA lesson instead of Snape, please and thank you.

[thedisneychef]

Where to Buy Recipes in Genshin Impact: Tips and Guide

Hey there foodies! Are you looking to buy recipes genshin but don't know where to start? Well, look no further. In this article, I'm gonna show you the best places to get your hands on delicious concoctions that'll tantalize your taste buds. From online retailers to local grocery stores, we've got all the information you need to find exactly what you're looking for. So let's get started and see where to buy recipes genshin! Online Stores I'm always looking for ways to get my hands on some new recipes in Genshin Impact. Thankfully, there are plenty of online stores that offer the best ingredients and dishes. One of my favorite places to shop is through online auctions; These provide a great selection with competitive prices. Third party suppliers also have lots of options available, but I like to do research before purchasing from them as they may not be as reliable or trustworthy as other options. No matter which option you choose, you're sure to find what you need! 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With so much variety available, groceries stores offer plenty of choice whether you're looking to create a traditional Genshin dish or try something completely original. Local Markets I love exploring the local markets for recipes that capture the flavors of Genshin. The food here is inspired by seasonal ingredients, making it easy to find something new and exciting each time I go out to shop. Traditional methods of preparation are also important in maintaining the cultural identity of this region's cuisine, so you can be sure to get a truly authentic experience when shopping at these markets. The variety available here never fails to amaze me - from colorful salads to hearty stews - there's definitely something for everyone! One thing I've noticed is that many vendors offer samples before you buy, allowing customers to try something before committing to buying an entire dish or ingredient. This has been incredibly helpful on more than one occasion as I'm usually unfamiliar with what some dishes taste like until after taking a bite! Overall, going out into the marketplaces of Genshin always proves to be an enjoyable (and delicious!) experience. With its abundance of fresh ingredients and traditional cooking styles, it's no wonder why people flock here for their groceries and snacks alike. Whether you're looking for a unique recipe or just want to browse around for fun, there's plenty of opportunities waiting for you! Specialty Shops I'm sure you've noticed the abundance of delicious homemade recipes around Genshin. It's hard to ignore all the mouth-watering aromas that make their way into your nose from nearby kitchens and markets! But what if you don't have access to those same ingredients? That's where specialty shops come in handy – they offer meal kits with everything you need for a tasty home cooked meal. 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When it comes to knowing which recipes are authentic, the best way is to do your own taste testing. Not only will this give you a better idea of what tastes good and what doesn't, but also let you compare costs between different sources. That being said, if you're looking for where to buy recipes Genshin, make sure that you research the source beforehand so that you know exactly what you're getting! How Do I Know Which Genshin Recipes Are The Most Popular? Figuring out which Genshin recipes are the most popular can be a challenge. Luckily, there are some tried-and-true cooking techniques and special ingredients that will help you identify which dishes have been favorites among fans of the game. Check online forums to see what players think about various meals or look for reviews from experienced cooks who've made their own versions of these recipes. You'll soon discover which ones come highly recommended! Are There Any Recipes That Are Specific To Certain Regions? 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[bleue-flora]

Oh for sure, great minds think alike. ;) I’ve actually talked about the same thing [post] <3 and to be honest can’t get the image out of my head of Tommy sitting in the snow just staring at Techno’s house for hours…

Having said that, I don’t know if we can say for certain that Michael and Tubbo’s husband are gone or anything because we only really know that he’s selling bees and Tommy gets to see him sometimes. We know that people left and Tubbo’s still around and that’s about it so you know whether or not he has moved on or is no longer married or has healed or anything, I feel like we just don’t know enough info (which I think was likely on purpose because ccTommy and ccJack didn’t want to define Tubbo’s lore because that’s for ccTubbo to do) to really determine anything besides hypotheticals or making up our own endings. Really all we have is this:

As for Jack, we do have more information about what he’s been doing which is that for the past years he has been gambling for his own thrill in order to “win big” even if he already has access to all the money anyways.

Suffice to say, while he says he’s happy, he’s been gambling for years alone so… ya know that can’t be the healthiest lifestyle (gives Percy Jackson Lotus Casino vibes tbh). However, he does mention how he’s changed and likes the person he is now much better than the guy he was back in the day so that’s interesting.

Does that actually mean it’s a happier or better ending for Jack? Not really in my opinion as there is still no resolution, at least the other finale leaves it open for you to theorize if he got validation for his pain and what he strived for. As far as healing goes, he didn’t walk the path to Exile with Tommy like you mentioned shows he has grown because that was the same path he died on [vid]. Instead they actually took the path to Techno’s [pic below vs pic from Jailbreak]

Even so, I do think the fact that he doesn’t even mention it or bring up how Tommy killed him or wronged him in any way in that entire conversation, instead asking at the end “are you happy?” shows to me that he has healed and moved on, even if not in the way you thought.

No longer does he want to kill Tommy, but he wants Tommy to be happy, that’s quite the contrast and shows true character growth. On the other hand, Tommy in that conversation manages to sneak in jabs and comments about how Jack blew up his hotel more than once.

Clearly, showing that he is still holding on tightly to the past. He still hasn’t forgiven Jack or let it go, even when it’s been years, and as Jack highlights - he technically tried to blow up everything with the nukes anyways.

This is one of the things that to me highlights how Tommy is not in a progressing mental state and details a dire picture. One of the other things, I think is perhaps the most notable when looking at whether he is healing is, as you said - being alone is no way to heal. Furthermore, I think a part of Tommy’s healing requires people. Sure Exile and him losing canon lives took a physical toll, but more than that, it took a mental toll. One that left him isolated towards the end where he remains now. And this mental toll includes trauma yes, but also his relationship with Wilbur or Tubbo weren’t exactly healthy either (and those are the more positive ones he had), something that certainly helps to paint a picture of his poor relationships with people as a whole. So to me, yes as you said, his path to healing needs to be supported by human contact and people to help him, but also I think part of the healing itself needs to be through actually forming healthier relationships with people and/or fixing old ones.

Plus, despite what he says, we already know being alone isn’t healthy for him. We’ve already seen him alone, in the finale we see his mental health take a dive as he’s wandering around the smp invisible where no one has seen him in months. And most notably in Exile. A large part of the mental decline of Exile was him being alone, that’s the larger piece, that’s the thing he mentions over and over in those streams, that’s why Dream could even do what he did because Tommy was so affected by being away from his friends to begin with. Tommy has (for the most part even with certain antagonizing factors) already had the opportunity for peace and quiet, but that didn’t make him happy and that isn’t what he wants because if it was, he would have moved far away before back during the dsmp. Instead he stays because he wants a community and to be loved by people, as he says in the finale, he "just wants to have friends" [clip].

And if that’s the case, than an ending where he’s all alone, is the most tragic one possible. An ending where he spends hours staring at Techno’s house instead of going in and mending his relationship, is the most tragic and sad it can get. An ending where all he has is his sheep and a cabin far away with occasional visits with Tubbo, isn’t better just because he can remember what happened.

Sure he’s not in war, he’s not afraid of an active threat, but peace doesn’t equal happiness or healing, it only means that he’s no longer being actively hurt, but it doesn’t mean he’s healing those injuries from before. Yes, time heals all wounds, but you have to actually keep wounds clean and in an environment where they can heal, otherwise infection will occur. And I just don’t think Tommy’s environment portrayed in this stream is conductive to healing.

Plus being alone isn’t just unhealthy and not helpful for healing because in general being alone isn’t gonna help anyone heal, but also because I think in order to truly heal and be happy, he needed to heal his relationships with people. He needed to be able to form actual strong bonds and be able to trust people again and be able to get over his fear of being attacked and betrayed. In order to grow as a person, he needed to be a good friend and support the people he cares about. Giving up the discs for Tubbo’s life in the finale and seeing Dream as a person was just step 1 on a larger journey of growth towards contentment. But he can’t do that because as he says “everyone went away”

He doesn't talk to people besides occasionally Tubbo. There is nobody left and so he's unable to heal things with everybody. He didn’t heal things with Technoblade. He didn’t heal things with Wilbur or Phil and grow those relationships, because a reasonable implication of his statement about everyone leaving is that perhaps they left him behind. And if that’s true then he's probably never going to be able to heal. Part of Tommy’s growth is dependent on other people in the same way that part of Dream’s growth and healing from prison is dependent on other people. Dream would not be able to go into the woods and live by himself and be able to heal from what he experienced either. Sure he could heal from his physical wounds and maybe even some of his mental ones. But alone he can’t heal the biggest pieces that were broken in prison, that destructive betrayal and trust and fear and the realization that people- his friends, really do see him as less than and deserving of such cruelty. So, I think part of Dream’s healing needed to be him being shown that he still is a person, who deserves to live and find happiness. But that’s only gonna get validated and instilled in him through other people, like he can’t really determine that for himself. It was other people who hurt him so thoroughly and other people have to be involved in undoing some of that damage and healing him. Plus, like Tommy, Dream also has that same desire for community and friends and family - to be loved by others and never be alone.

In this way, both of them are very similar, a fact highlighted by the finale (that’s true even if you retcon it). Neither of them would’ve been able to heal and grow on their own (nor with their one best friend who is unable to meet their needs) even if the circumstances were perfectly blissful. And that’s why I think, regardless if you like or accept the finale or not, this second finale isn’t better for Tommy. It’s just sad. I just get the picture of Tommy sitting in the snow getting cold and soggy, staring at Techno‘s house for hours, not going inside and talking with Techno and fixing that relationship, but just staring.

In other words, the way I see it, in order for Tommy’s statement of he’s “Getting there.” to actually be true and actually be comforting and actually be a better ending he would have to not be alone, to have grown his relationships and learned to trust people again. But instead of any of that, we get that he lives far away in a cabin with a sheep named Mareep, the very opposite of that path to healing and contentment in my mind. Sure, there’s no war. Sure, he has his memories. Sure, he’s not living in fear from a specific target or person (especially Dream), but he’s still alone, unable to let go of his grudges, of his pain, of his past, and yet unable to face it as he moves far away and avoids returning to the dsmp main area...

Is that truly a better ending? Do we honestly hate the idea of new beginnings and Tommy being Dream’s friend so much we prefer a far more tragic ending of Tommy not healing and not getting his simple happy ending of playing around with friends, where for years he tries moving on but he can’t? Because to me, I don’t think it’s a finale of Tommy “Getting there.” but one showcasing how he never got there, even years later, even removed from the bad circumstances and the past environment. In the end, we never get to see Tommy grow and move on and heal from all that happened, which is a far more depressing and hopeless ending and theme, than the finale's theme of understanding each other, new beginnings and uniting in the very human goal of just wanting to be loved...

And maybe the past 4 years of living by myself provide me with a more in depth insight than others. Because I did exactly what Tommy did, I moved away and I left my shitty friends behind and then covid happened and I was suddenly alone. And yeah in some ways I love the peace and quiet it's why I choose to still live alone, but the difference is I go to work and run errands. I still see and talk with people and then go home to the nice quiet, but from what I can tell in the way he talks about not having talked to anyone in so "looooong" and his repeated gratefulness for seeing a familiar face, he doesn't get that social piece at all. Just like I didn't during covid and I can tell you from personal experience, being alone, even if you see one or two people every once and a while, takes a toll on your mental health and I wasn't even trying to recover from severe trauma like Tommy. I was in a good mental place relatively speaking before and then covid isolation happened, while taking some of the hardest engineering courses, and 4 months later I was in one of the most stressed and depressed times in my life where getting out of bed seemed like too much effort. And just like Tommy, I too told people I was okay and "getting there" but it was lies. Lies I told them because I was ashamed, lies I told myself that I could handle it on my own. I lied to everyone for months until I finally let them know I was struggling and only when I finally got help from people was I able to improve. I couldn't do it on my own, I had tried for so long but just managed to get worse. And I guess I can't help but think that is how it is for Tommy too. I can't even imagine trying to heal from PTSD, substance abuse, paranoia and such while isolated, college was hard enough as it is...

I think that c!Tommy’s ending was not the best for his character. What I mean is the new ending from Jack’s stream. I see many Tommy fans talking about how this ending was “better“ or it was them “moving on“. I really don’t think it was them moving on. I mean Jack is alone in the casino, gambling all the time. Tommy is alone and goes to techno’s house a lot. I think Tubbo might be there, but I’m not sure.

I don’t think Tommy moved on at all. Like, look at how he’s still there when either everyone else “died” or moved on and left. I mean, even though he has his memories and he still alive and the same Tommy that we all know, it just feels wrong for him to still be there. Especially without anyone else there. I just don’t get how being alone and honestly having no one but Tubbo who I believe he only sees occasionally if he’s even there at all, I wasn’t entirely sure, can be seen as “moving on”. Not that I’m trying to make a dig at anyone else, everyone is entitled to their own opinion.

I mean, nobody is there to help and support him anymore. If the nukes really didn’t blow up, it makes sense why people would move away. I personally wouldn’t want to be there any longer than I had to, especially with such hard memories etched into that land. It just feels kinda hopeless even though Tommy says he’s getting better or he’s getting there whatever the quote was, can you really move on from everything he’s experienced by yourself. Again, this is all just my opinion and the way I see healing and moving on.

being alone, in my opinion, would make you worse. There’s no one around like I’ve stated before. To me, it makes sense that only those three would be left. It feels like those are the three that would have the hardest time moving on. The ones who still need to heal from everything that happened. We saw that Niki chose to try and move on instead of killing Tommy, since she joined the syndicate. Jack from what I’ve seen, but to be fair, I haven’t watched a lot of his content lore wise, it’s always seemed to me that he would be the one between those two to not move on.

Well, yes, he talks to Tommy and he has grown and healed slightly for he trusts Tommy, he lets Tommy lead him on the exile bridge in the nether. I believe that’s where he died at one point. Tommy pushed him into the lava yet he still allows Tommy to lead him on that bridge again. I’m not trying to say that they haven’t healed at all, that they haven’t tried to move on. Jack came back from hell out of pure spite, I don’t think it would be easy to move on when you’ve been motivated for that long out of spite.

Tubbo, I’m not really sure about in the case of where he is during this lore stream. However, if he is there, which I’m assuming he is somewhere, he lost his husband, I’m assuming Michael is gone, which leaves him alone or in this case only with Tommy. Not that I’m saying that’s a bad thing, but it must feel impossible to move on with that sort of grief.

Tommy, I mean, where do I even start? Tommy has been through hell. He suffered a lot and that wouldn’t be something he could most likely heal from on his own. Sorry, I’m kind of rambling, but I just wanted to put my thoughts out there. All in all, I just feel like this ending isn’t as happy or satisfying as a lot of people make it out to be. Again, this is all my thoughts and opinions. I’m not really looking to argue with people about this. If you want to be civil, you can drop by my ask box and let me know what you think. I just currently don’t have the energy to argue with people. I hope you all can respect that.

[gingercauldron]

Quiet Brilliance (Spencer Reid x BAU! Reader)

A/N: Here is my offering to the Criminal Minds fandom. Also this is my first time really writing fanfic? Just really wanted to have Spencer impressed by the reader and fall in love with them. So I hope you enjoy!! This is totally not an excuse to somehow make random stuff I’ve read about relevant in BAU cases lol

Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU! Reader

Synopsis: Spencer notices how intelligent you really are, as well as how shy you are about it. He can’t stop thinking about you, your brilliance, and how much he just wants to hold you.

Warnings: None really, just fluff, and normal Criminal Minds content

Wordcount: 1.9k

No one in the BAU seemed to give you enough credit.

Not that it was their intention, of course, but Dr. Spencer Reid could not help but notice all of the times that your quiet brilliance went by as unremarkable. He might have had an eidetic memory, carrying a labyrinthine of facts and figures in his head - but you knew things that even he had not come across. He could tell that you were a researcher, that you would explore through files for knowledge because you wanted to.

When Spencer would pull a fact or statistic out of the air, you would be listening raptly. On several occasions you would scribble something down afterwards, and it made Spencer’s heart swell. This was how he first became so attuned to you when you joined the team. After that, he made sure to observe you.

He noticed that you would duck your head into files of each case, going through detail after detail with a furrowed brow. You would write in a frantic scrawl on post-it notes as a cue to do further research.

The most endearing part of it all, was that you would do the same thing even if there wasn’t a case. You would carry a tome with you, with the tails of post-it flaps coming out the side, each one crowded with writing. You were smart, Spencer learned, and he wondered why it wasn’t seen as big of an asset as it truly was to the team.

At first he could pretend that his interest was merely for the good of the team, learning more about you and what you were capable of. Obviously you were hired for a reason, likely your careful observations and sharp psychological profiling — but there was so much more. Spencer was finding it harder to pretend that this interest was not at all motivated by the affection that was developing for you.

He had three PhDs and was the so-called “resident genius,” but he wondered if you could give him a run for his money. The thing was, because you were quiet and private, he didn’t know — and that in itself was exciting.

On one case where you were observing the body at the scene, a particularly strange case where the jaw of the victim had swelled with tumors, you quickly told everyone to back up.

“What is it?” Hotch asked.

“It looks like possible radiation poisoning because of how localized the tumors are — like the unsub had the victim consume radium.” You said. “I could be wrong, of course. We could check her teeth.”

“Teeth?” Morgan asked.

Spencer quickly replied. “Radium has properties that make it glow in the dark, it was used as a novelty for that reason well into the 1970’s before restrictions were placed on it, actually. If the victim had been ingesting radium it is possible her teeth might glow. In 1938 a case was settled where a group factory workers sued their employment because they had been encouraged to lick paintbrushes covered in radium in the course of their work, resulting in massive tumours around the neck and jaw.”

“And the factory workers had tumours like this?” Hotch asked. He was asking Spencer now, not you.

“Remarkably similar.” Spencer replied.

Spencer glanced at you, but it didn’t seem to bother you that he had jumped in. In fact, the only that seemed to be upsetting to you was the fact that the unsub was on the loose.

“I’ll call some radiologists in.” Hotch said, already lifting the phone to his ear.

It turned out, that you were right. It was in fact radium, and you made sure that the team was safe by telling them to keep their distance from the body. The radiation levels on the body were dangerous.

On the plane home from that case Spencer had sat beside you, and he couldn’t stop thinking about your astute observation. You smiled up at him when he settled next to you, looking back down at the book in your lap.

“Hey, Y/N?”

You looked back up at him. “Yeah, Spencer?”

“That was a good catch with the radium.”

“Oh, that. Thank you.” You beamed. “But you would have caught it if I hadn’t.”

Would he? With all of the gruesome things he had seen they all morphed together, he wasn’t sure that he would have jumped to radium, of all things, as quickly as you had. That he would have been as cautious in avoiding the body to investigate if you hadn’t said something.

“I mean it. It was good catch. It was pretty brilliant, actually.”

“Thanks, Spence.” You said softly.

He knew he should let you get back to your book that was covered in post-it notes, but there was a thought that kept nagging at him. “Y/N?” He said again.

“Yeah?”

“Did it — did I overstep when you were telling the team about the radiation? Because if I did—”

“No, I got to stop you there. You helped. I’d rather not have the attention.”

He furrowed his brow, but didn’t say anything more, letting you return to your book.

After that it seemed that the rest of the team was starting to pick up on your fierce intelligence, too. It was hard to ignore the books you carried with you, but Spencer thought it would have been impossible to not notice you. Not just because you were utterly beautiful, but because everything about your mind was captivating.

Morgan remarked on it when you found a pattern in the artwork of a string of victims’ homes. The artwork looked nothing alike, but you picked it up.

“This painting.” You said, pointing at it. “It’s German expressionist.”

“Okay?” Morgan said.

“It could be nothing, but the last victim had a print of German artwork in their home — it was from the dada movement — but they’re both from the same time period. The other two victims had books on the Bauhaus — an influential German design school that operated between the first and second world wars.” You explained. “I wouldn’t have said anything, but the average joe wouldn’t have German post-World War One art. All of our victims are interested in the same time period for art — seems like too much of a coincidence.”

Morgan stared at you.

“What?” You asked sheepishly.

“Did Reid just possess you for a moment there? How’d you know all that?”

You shrugged and changed the subject. “I’ll call Garcia and see if she can connect the victims through local art groups or galleries.”

Morgan stared at you as you walked off, phoning Garcia. Spencer came up beside him and squinted at the painting on the wall.

“I think I know how the victims might be connected.” Spencer said to Morgan, analyzing the painting.

“The art?”

Spencer looked at Morgan in surprise. “You know about German art?”

Morgan snorted and shook his head. He gestured to you. “Y/N is calling up Garcia right now. Can’t imagine how she knew anything about it.”

Spencer furrowed his brow. “I knew it, though.”

“Exactly.” Morgan patted Spencer’s shoulder and left to talk to Hotch.

You put the phone down and turned noticing Spencer looking at you. You smiled when you saw him. He loved the way you smiled at him, as if he was the only other person in the entire world. He felt his heart rate increase and new, scientifically speaking, that he was completely infatuated with you.

“Garcia found a connection.” You told him.

You said nothing to him of the connections you had made first, but it made him appreciate the fact that he knew all the more. You downplayed your accomplishments. He wanted nothing more than to be by your side so that he could learn about every one of them.

Rossi noticed during a case, when Spencer was reading one of the unsub’s journals. Flipping through the book quickly and absorbing the information.

“Hard to believe the kid can read that fast sometimes.” Rossi said to you. “He reads 20,000 words per minute.”

“It’s over 60 times the norm. He’s pretty amazing.” You said back.

“The norm?”

You nodded. “Yeah, average adult reads between 200 to 300 words per minute, he reads around 333 words per second.”

“You some kind of whiz kid, too?” Rossi asked.

You scoffed. “Hardly. I just read a lot.”

“So does Reid.”

“You know what I mean.” And with that you left Rossi, effectively stopping the conversation.

Spencer smiled, having overheard you two. Whether you wanted to or not, you would slip little bits of information that show just how much you were thinking. You couldn’t hide your mind completely, and Spencer couldn’t stop thinking about what conversations would ensue in just spending a day with you alone.

Your voice saying he’s pretty amazing kept playing in his head and he could feel his face flush. Did you know how that sounded? You thought he, of all people, was amazing - not his brain, or his skills, but him. Did you mean it to sound like that?

Rossi turned to Spencer. “You know your face is red.” He said.

Spencer stared at Rossi, but he couldn’t make his mouth form any words. A grin spread across Rossi’s face, reading Spencer like a book.

“It’s okay Doctor, I won’t tell anyone.” Rossi said, and got back to his own work.

The rest of the day Spencer could hardly focus on anything, constantly aware of where you were in the bullpen - or distracted when you left the bullpen to see Garcia because that meant you were gone. He tried to keep his head down and look at evidence, but you were so close and you thought that he was pretty amazing, and it was nearly impossible to think about anything else. By the time he felt satisfied enough with the work he had done that day to maybe pack up it was already dark out.

Spencer saw you reading at your desk in the bullpen. Everyone had gone home already, but you were there scribbling notes down. When Spencer neared your desk he saw the book, a book he had been reading two days ago.

You looked up and smiled at him in surprise, with those dazzling eyes of yours. You pushed your hair behind your ear and all that Spencer could think about was what it would feel like to touch.

“Hi, Spence.” You said. “What’s up?”

Spencer swallowed, and his world came to a standstill. The words came out of his mouth before he could stop them. “I think I love you.” His eyes suddenly went wide when he realized what he had said.

He turned around on his heel and rushed towards the door. He could hear your chair scratch against the floor and you called out.

“Spencer!”

He stilled, his hand on the door. He wanted to run, to get as far away and hopefully have you forget about it and not lose your friendship. He never wanted to disappoint you or make you uncomfortable, but he couldn’t turn his back on you either. He turned his head slowly, afraid to see your face.

You didn’t look angry. You had a small shy smile on your face.

“I think I love you, too.”

He dropped his hand from the door. “You do?”

You nodded. “I do.”

He laughed, feeling giddy. “I can’t stop thinking about you.” He confessed. “About your kindness and your brilliance, and just, you. I just — can I kiss you?”

“Why, Dr. Spencer Reid, I would like nothing more.”

That was all he needed before he was across the room, holding your face in his hands and kissing you. Spencer, with his eidetic memory, could not remember having ever been so happy.

[derinthescarletpescatarian]

Ask Me Anything 1 -- The Spellthing

The spellthing’s answers are also available on patreon.

Do you have a name?

Do I have a name? In my experience, my deer, names are most often held by humans, who breed and cultivate them and then tag them onto everything they see until the skies and the seas and the mountains are positively drowning in mundane labels. I’ve never been one to wield them myself. Some spells do – Destiny cannot seem to resist bludgeoning everything it prophesies about into the shape of a name – but the only name I have with any regularity is the one I am currently applying to you, my deer.

What are your pronouns?

The pronouns I use the most are “me” for myself, and “you” for yourself.

Do you have tastebuds, and if so, what does the magic you suck in taste like?

Do I have tastebuds? My deer, I… I’m not made of cells.

Have you ever met someone else in the initiation?

Oh, there are always new humans to meet in the Initiation. So young and scared and delightfully, entertainingly clever.

Are you more or less likely to attack someone if they’ve escaped you before? I’m thinking you don’t care, but I’m curious.

I never attack someone. I speak to a dreaming space, a human mind as you might so arrogantly simplify it, and it is influenced. Whether it lives or dies is its own affair and, in the scheme of things, rather meaningless.

I almost never meet the same human mind twice, so it would be difficult to extrapolate any pattern in my behaviour based on previous encounters.

How old are you, by this I mean, when long has it been since you guys started to bond together?

It is my nature to see the future. If you have questions about the past, it is perhaps worth your time to ask somebody whose nature is to see the past. A human, perhaps.

Thoughts on insects?

There are no thoughts on insects. Or I suppose it is more accurate to say that there are no dreams on insects, at least none that are visible to my kind, and others have no relevance. Humans may build dreams in the shape of insects, but I am not what you want to speak to about that.

Do you choose your appearance or do you have no control over it? If you chose, why do you choose to be so alike a human but so odd at the same time? If you don’t choose, why do you look human-like, are bonded spells prone to look like humans? Or is it all coincidence and both humans and spell things tend to look eerily alike?

I do not know what my appearance is from your perspective. I cannot see, at least not in the way that you see.

It is my nature to give information to humans. This is what I am. I would imagine that I appear to you as your mind would characterise me.

Would sunlight hurt you?

… No? Why would it?

What exactly makes you, as a spell-creature, any different from a human-creature (aside from all the magic)?

“Creature” is an arbitrary distinction. Do you believe that you are an individual thing, my deer?

The mere existence of this question betrays an understanding of the world so flawed that it has no answer. You may as well ask what a sunrise tastes like.

Do spells tend to bond like this or are you an odd case?

I am a product of my environment. It is not normal for unbound spells to encounter each other. If you put a whole lot of them in a very confined space for centuries, odd things are guaranteed to happen.

Are bond up spells more or less likely to be bond to a human?

Are you more likely to be infected by a bacterium from the mouth of your lover, or the pen you absentmindedly chew? The origin is irrelevant. It takes a great deal of shackling or long-ingrained training to keep a spell from a compatible host.

Why only enter humans and not other animals? In case it enters an animal would it be able to use the spell? Would the spell be ‘trained’ to enter other animals only?

We bond to the dreamers from which we are born, the dreams that we perceive. The only source of such things that I can see are the animals you call humans. But the flesh is not particularly relevant, and the question of why dreams are born only of human meat is uninteresting.

Since when can you talk like this?

I am a being of prophecies. To perceive information and communicate it to humans is the entirety of my nature. I have been able to ‘talk’ for as long as I have existed, or I would not, by definition, exist.

Is it possible to enchant living beings?

How would I know this?

Any prophecy spell is able to become part of you or they must be 'compatible' somehow? If it needs to be compatible, what is this compatibilidade based on? Is it strength (and would be ‘strength’ in this sense?)? Maybe the more specific the spell, the harder it is to bond with other spells. Maybe it’s linked to the kind of prophecy spell (if it’s the kind that only sees the future or the type that profetices things to existence).

My perception is vast, and somehow you keep insisting on asking me questions outside it. Do you know how all of your cells interrelate and operate? This is a question for a scientist.

Do you need to be near a human to prophecy?

I am always near a human. I am trapped under a society of mages.

Do you choose when to prophecy? If not, do the prophecies come in predictable bases or at random? Does taking on a single spell from you change it?

Do you choose when to breathe?

When you see the future, or something alike, do you ‘want’ to tell it? Is it your nature to tell it to a human? or is it your nature to just say it? In truth what do you ‘instinct’ after profeticing?

‘Want’ is the purview of beasts. I see and I communicate because this is what I am. The most that a spell could be said to ‘want’ something is to follow its nature and find a compatible host, but even this is like saying that the rain ‘wants’ to fall and the wind ‘wants’ to blow. I don’t understand the rest of your question.

Do spells do things when they are not bond to humans or they just… do nothing but exist? If there were no more humans in the world, would all the spells disappear? Would they try to enter other living beings or objects?

Imagine a shack in the middle of the woods. It has a heavy oak front door, bolted shut. It is abandoned; nobody is out here, nobody will ever go through that doorway. Is the door still a door?

Imagine a shack in the middle of the woods. It has a heavy oak front door that is bolted shut, but weather has broken the windows and torn off parts of the roof. Animals freely enter and exit these new doorways, but the panel of oak remains bolted in place, effectively acting as a wooden piece of wall. Is the door still a door?

Imagine a ruin in the middle of the woods. There are no walls, no roof, only the oddly smooth stones beneath the colonising grass shows any hint of there ever having been a cabin there at all – that, and the doorframe, which through some act of fortune has remained standing, housing a heavy oak door. The door is bolted shut, but there is nothing for it to shut in or out – it is not part of a wall, and instead of being any kind of passage, is now a standalone obstruction. There’s nowhere for it to lead to.

Is the door still a door?

Imagine a ruin in the middle of the woods. There is nothing left now, but the oddly smooth stones beneath grasses and small bushes. An old oak panel lies on the ground, roots just starting to burrow their way into the soft tracks left by fungus. Rusty hinges are still attacked to one side. Is the door still a door?

Imagine the middle of the woods.

There are worked stones and rusty nails here. Signs of previous human habitation. Under the grass and mushrooms growing in one particular patch is the spongy remains of a long-dead panel of oak.

Is the door still a door?

A thing is defined not just by its form and history but by its function. If there are no dreams left, can there be magic? Is a spell that cannot act still a spell?

Of course, none of this particularly matters for your question, because I don’t know what we will be after the humans are gone. I cannot see that. You cannot move into a lack of space, you cannot exist into a lack of time, I cannot see into a lack of dreams.

---------------------

Next month’s AMA will be for Maximillian Acanthos! Apprentices and craftspeople, please send em your question for Max on Patreon by the end of the month.

[alexiethymia]

Kaito knows Conan is Shinichi

I am mind blown. And probably late to the party, like wow. 

I mean there’s always been that debate about whether or not we should consider the movies canon, but I somehow cannot believe that Gosho is making them canon. (I’ve always considered Movie 1 and Movie 2 canon though.)

For example, there’s the instance where in the Nagano-Gunma prefectural border case, Inspector Yamato said he’d met Inspector Yamamura before thereby alluding to Raven Chaser (thereby making Irish canon), or how he brought Inspector Ayanokouji into the manga, alluding to Crossroads in the Ancient Capital (which means it’s canon that Kazuha is Heiji’s first love!), and with Kazuha’s statement in the Fairy Lip case, alluding to Last Wizard of the Century (which I just love because that’s one of my favorite DCMK movies).

I mean it’s been a given in the movies that Kaito knows about Kudo Shinichi, I mean he always appears as Shinichi every time he appears in the movies, but it was always ambiguous in the manga. Until the Fairy Lip case, and all this time I wanted to be sure through the anime, because what if it was just liberal translation, but then the anime cinched it. Kaito says, ‘kokosei tantei futari ni’ meaning ‘two high school detectives’ referring to Shinichi and Heiji. If he had just said ‘tantei’, there would have been ambiguity, but he really referred to Conan as a kokosei tantei as well.

I have double feelings, like on the one hand it’s something I’m used to through the movies, but on the other hand, the utter potential. 

Did Kid ever find out it was Shinichi who almost caught him in the Clocktower Heist? The same heist before the Black Star Heist, where again he was almost caught by Conan? I mean I sort of did a meta on those particular chapters, in that I thought Kid didn’t treat Conan like a kid, but someone older, like maybe he had the same feeling in both heists, and considering that they were back-to-back that feeling led him to search further into Conan’s identity? And Shinichi too! I mean no way he didn’t research. At this point, could he somehow already connect the link between Kaito Kid, Vermouth, Yukiko, and Kuroba Toichi?? Like seriously, Gosho drops information bombs out of nowhere! Apparently in between appearances, Kid had already known about Conan’s true identity, but we can’t even pinpoint the exact moment, unless Gosho is telling us that it really was in Movie 3.

I know this isn’t new information, but I’m excited nonetheless. It makes me feel like we’re getting closer to the answer of the mystery of why exactly Shinichi and Kaito look so alike (which Gosho stated has in-story reasons). 

[yoonpobs]

bad boy good thing xiv.

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: smut, jungkook is really an asshole, the angst hurts a lot tbh, unhealthy relationships (?)

words: 5, 690

summary: a series of drabbles where you're confused and jungkook's confusing

a/n:

hello!!!! we’re here at fourteen chapters omg ✨✨when i first started this series it was mostly self-indulgent and now there are people who actually enjoy reading it??🥺 it almost doesn’t seem real T.T 

thank you so much for the love and support!!! just so I don't give too much spoilers for this chap - I apologise to my fellow geminis for the potential slander 🤣 this is more of a self-drag lmaooo 

anyway, I hope you enjoy this chap!!!

“Ah. I’m getting allergies.” Yena sniffs, scrunching her nose.

You furrow your brows in concern, “Are you okay? Do you need any medicine?”

“It’s just the seasonal changes,” She brushes you off.

You nod in understanding, “I get it. My mom has horrible reactions towards pollen so—”

“I’m not allergic to flowers.” She blinks.

“Then what—?”

“It’s Gemini season. It’s like—literally the worst time of the year.” She blinks.

You gawk at her, taking a whole ten seconds to process her serious tone when she doesn’t waver under your scrutiny.

“I’m a Gemini,” You inform her slowly.

“I mean …” She shrugs all as you scowl at her, opting to throw the closest object you had, which was your favourite pen so you decide against it; simply shooting her the meanest glare you could possibly muster.

“Look, it’s not you,” She sighs, and you’re half-expecting her to finish with an it’s me to make you scoff, “It’s me.” And there you go. “I mean, it’s Gemini’s in general because they’re two-faced bitches who have the worst emotional attachment issues. Like they’re literally what the opposite of glue is. And they’re so over-analytical. How is it like psychoanalysing every person you meet only to hurt your own feelings and sulk about it?”

You blink.

“I mean it’s not you but if the shoe fits.” She says casually, plopping a grape into her mouth that you’re tempted to slap away.

“You’re so mean!” You pout indignantly.

She cackles, throwing her head back as you continue to sulk. You weren’t that bad. You just … you were risk-averse! You liked having the freedom to observe everyone and anyone and package them into tiny compartments in your head so you could understand them better. You weren’t … that Gemini.

“You’re so cute,” She coos pinching your cheeks. “No wonder Beef One and Beef Two like you so much.” She teases.

Your first reaction is to blush because you know who exactly she’s talking about, but you have more pressing matters, like—

“You have nicknames for them?” You ask, baffled.

“Hey, I wasn’t friends with many girls in high school. Don’t girls usually have nicknames for their crushes?” She says through a pout.

You stay expressionless as you try to gauge the level of seriousness you can extract from her tone.

You realise she’s dead serious.

“Yeah, but we’re in college,” You argue, scrunching your nose, “And sides’, it’s not like they’re strangers. We know them.”

She rolls her eyes, waving you off like you were the inconvenience here. Then she leans forward, her eyes twinkling as she takes a complete one-eighty that you try to adjust to.

“So … you Gemini hoe, what’s your plans?” She nudges you.

You raise a brow, “Did you just call me a—?”

“Plans, ___. Stay on track.” She scolds.

You sigh, still fond but you pretend to be annoyed. You really couldn’t get annoyed with Yena. After all, the more time you spend with her the more you realise how much life sucked before you had her in your life. You spent each moment learning more about her quirks and habits, her choice of words that made you giggle or laugh until you were crying.

And you realise that this is how she loves, a little rough but welcomed nonetheless.

“If you’re talking about my birthday then … not much. I’m probably stuck doing admin work for the college’s charity programme.” You shrug, stabbing a fork into your soiled salad.

Yena gapes at you, “Not much—excuse me? It’s your birthday! You’re turning twenty-five!” 

You look at her dryly, “I’ve been twenty-five since the year—”

She groans, “That’s not the same! You’re like—officially twenty-five. You’re literally hitting the mark for a quarter-life crisis. Isn’t that something to celebrate?” 

“Me going through an existential crisis at the end of my degree is not how I want to celebrate my birthday but okay,” You blink.

She rolls her eyes at your realism.

“That’s not the point. Point is, this is our first birthday together and I want it to be special.” She points out.

You snort, “What? Are we doubling my birthday as our monthsary or something?”

She shoves you with a brute force that has you snickering but she continues to pester you anyway.

“You’re so dumb. So smart, but so dumb,” She shakes her head, “You’re always studying or doing some form of work that requires the use of more than one brain cell. You deserve a break. Besides, you have two dudes to pick from on how you’d like to be wined and dined and—”

“Yena!” You whine.

“—it’ll be like an episode of the Bachelorette! But just with a super cool and smart best friend that’ll make the decision for you. It’s not your birthday. It’s ours.” She emphasises towards the end.

You stare at her for a long second, before the two of you are bursting into laughter at the absurdity of her statement. 

It was nice, just to laugh about things without having your heart feel so heavy. Even if it was a mild distraction, it was still wholly pleasant to be able to just talk about mindless things that didn’t require much mental gymnastics to navigate the conversation with.

“What are the two of you laughing about?” Taehyung and Jimin arrive at impeccable timing, sliding into the booth with their own packaged food. It’s very college-student-esque, a cute paper (because no plastic) container filled with an array of assortments.

“None of your XY chromosomes business.” Yena retorts.

Jimin blinks, “You are literally so hostile.”

“Then don’t give me a reason to be.” She sticks her tongue out petulantly.

You laugh, nudging her with your shoulder, “Be nice.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes but manages to keep a civil smile on his face. Always the more rational one between the two. 

“Anyway, Yena definitely isn’t going to answer me so, what’s up?” He turns to look at you.

You roll your eyes but it’s half-hearted, “She wants to celebrate my birthday like we’re on the Bachelorette.”

“Like you’re on the Bachelorette.” She corrects.

“Oh my God, our baby’s turning twenty-five!” Jimin coos at the reminder, pinching your cheeks as he coddles you. You scowl and weakly shove him away, even if you preen under the attention.

“I’m literally older than the both of you.” You huff.

Yena blinks, “There’s no way I’m the oldest person at this table.”

Taehyung furrows his brows, “Wait—how old are you?”

She sends him a scathing glare that has his arms raised up in defence.

“Jeez, okay. Don’t answer.”

“I’m going to answer because you told me not to.” She clips. “I’m twenty-seven.”

Jimin blinks, “No wonder you and Yoongi hyung are so alike.”

You almost miss it, but as Yena so eloquently pointed out, you were a sucker for psychoanalysing people (even if you didn’t want to admit it yet) that you notice the way she flushes ever so slightly as she scoffs.

“Him? How dare you compare me to that sorry excuse of a—!”

“Okay, everyone is beneath you. I’m sorry your highness.” Jimin rolls his eyes.

You make a note to ask her about it because you know for a fact that Yoongi ‘complains’ about Yena every hour he can. It’s almost as if he can’t go long enough without mentioning her.

You smile to yourself as you duck your head.

“Exactly,” She flips her hair over her shoulders before turning to face you. “Anyway, back to you—our baby.”

Taehyung nods, “Exactly, the baby.”

You scrunch your nose, “Don’t coddle me.”

He pats your head before cooing at you like he would to an actual baby, “But you’re just so cute. You’re too good for this shitty world. Too good for the likes of mere mortals like us.”

“Not me.” Yena blinks before gesturing to their bodies, “You.”

Jimin sticks his tongue out in retaliation as you sigh at their never-ending bickering.

Somehow … it felt right. You think it most of the times but you don’t know any other way to describe how it feels to be back with your friends, laughing, bickering and just appreciating their presence.

When you and Jungkook had your issues, it was like you made the conscious choice to avoid everyone and anyone as much as you could, and any interaction you had during that period was purely out of coincidences and not the intention. You remember actively avoiding Jimin and Taehyung because it felt too draining to pretend like you didn’t have a battle in your head. Even studying or spending time with Namjoon made you feel guilty, the thought of Jungkook lingering in your mind. Yena was there through it all, but even then you saw her as much as you did with any of your classmates you so happened to share a class with.

In fact, if it weren’t for Yena you’d probably have zero social interactions as a whole because she just knew. She somehow picked up on your internal conflicts but never outwardly shamed you or confronted you about it. All she did was be there for you, offering you her presence and you were grateful.

So, yeah. Things were better, but your heart was still at its core—confused. Your feelings for Jungkook didn’t disappear overnight and you knew that you were the one that asked for space.

You forgave him … you did, honestly. But there are things you can’t forget, and those are the things that you wished you could. The words he said in principle, was outright shitty. But the fact that it came from him only poked at every single one of your insecurities that you developed over the years.

You knew it wasn’t healthy to compare yourself to other women when they were living vastly different lives than you were, but it’s proven difficult when you’re forced to see these type of women every day, at college, in your community work or on the media. 

Believing Jungkook’s apparent feelings for you was harder because, well. Jungkook was Jungkook. He wasn’t just another guy, and despite his shortcomings, he had more merits than he’d let on and you knew that people saw that. It was also the fact that Jungkook had a charm that drew all types of people in. He was soft-spoken but passionate, and people loved a quiet achiever.

You … knew about the women. Way before Jennie and way before the thing between the two of you happened. Jimin and Taehyung would always update you about the new fling or girl he had tied to his hip just as he was in his final year in high school. You had to force a smile every single time they’d snicker and joke about how your Jungkook suddenly became a man overnight.

And you noticed the trend with the women he liked. They were … captivating. Beautiful wasn’t even enough to describe them because they looked like they could carry the world on their shoulders and spark immense change with just the movement of their lips. They were confident and charismatic, outgoing and just the right amount of flirty. You were anything but.

It sucked, majorly, because you spent years agonising over the fact that you were already coined with the older sister title in the group because of the way you acted—just a little more uptight than the average woman your age. You were quiet but loud in the right company; you didn’t like crowds, socialising or mingling around with people you didn’t know and based on your observations it seemed like that was the only thing that Jungkook’s been doing ever since he made it to senior year in high school, and even in the first years of college.

You don’t resent him, you think. You couldn’t blame him because you weren’t honest either. You consented, to all of the kisses and touches even if he hadn’t officially had sex with you. You wanted to, but you were terrified. Not at the prospect of penetration but at the prospect of not being enough and the fact that Jungkook was the only person you wanted to have sex with while he had options that were far more attractive and experienced than you were.

That’s why you needed time because at least you could get your shit together even if it was an uphill battle.

“Earth to ____?” Taehyung waves a hand in front of your face with a concerned expression.

You blink, snapping out of your daze as you offer a meek smile and an apology.

“We just asked you if you wanted a small get together at Tae’s and I’s place for your birthday?” Jimin asks.

“Really?” You beam. That was exactly what you preferred.

“Yeah, we know you don’t like clubs and stuff. Just a small and intimate gathering with all your best buds.” He grins.

You nod your head, but Yena beats you to a response.

“By best buds you mean the three friends she has, which is us and the two meatheads duelling for her affection.” She snorts.

You flush, “Y-Yena!”

Taehyung snickers at your embarrassment.

“It doesn’t help that both of them are literally the biggest dudes on the football team. It’s literally like watching King Kong and Godzilla getting into a fight for world domination.”

Jimin throws his back in laughter as you fold your arms across your chest at post at the way your friends are practically crying in laughter at the image. Jimin was clutching onto Taehyung for his dear life because if he didn’t then he’d fall off the chair.

“Stop,” You whine, “you guys are being mean.”

“Oh my God, you’re literally the only person on this earth that would take two people fighting for your attention as an offence.” Taehyung groans.

“I-It’s not that!” You deny exasperatedly, “I-It’s just … awkward …”

Jimin sighs with a small smile, patting your head.

“If it’s any consolation I think it’s offensive that Jungkook thinks he even has the right to breathe in—”

“Jimin!”

“Wow. It really is like King Kong and Godzilla.” Jimin whistles lowly, eyeing the scene before him with amusement lingering in his eyes.

“Do you think they’re gonna start slamming their chests soon or …?” Taehyung trails off in a whisper, leaning into Jimin so that the two other men wouldn’t notice.

“I can literally hear you.” You say dryly.

Jimin offers you a plastic smile, “You’re meant to hear us, babe. How about you try to tame them like Jane did with Tarzan?”

Jimin nearly shrieks when you shove him so fiercely that he topples over into Taehyung’s grasp as the second part of the duo only catches him in the process. 

You sigh, completely ignoring the way that Jimin’s muttering curses that were directed to you under his breath. Instead, you were transfixed on the scene before you—which specifically is Jungkook and Namjoon staring each other down through the mirror of the gym. You were lucky that it was just the five of you since Namjoon was able to use his captain privileges to book the gym because you had no idea how to explain the fact that two big-sized men were attempting to outdo each other in their circuit reps as if they were on a suicide mission.

“Listen, when I agreed to help you out with your sets I thought I was meant to help log it in for a report.” You exasperate, but the two men continue their manly lift-off as they huff and puff their exertion away.

“Trust me, you are helping. Being the motivation is more than—”

This time it’s Taehyung who faces your wrath as you thwack him upside the head. 

From where Jungkook and Namjoon were, Jungkook can only deliver death stares into the direction of his captain who returns it tenfold. He wasn’t even sure why they were doing this but something a flicked definitely switched in Jungkook when Namjoon (purposefully) revealed that you were helping out with something. At the gym. Supposedly alone.

Jungkook’s primitive side came out because the next thing Namjoon knew was that Jungkook managed to drag himself, and Jimin and Taehyung as a diversion. He still feels his chest swell with pride when recalling the scowl on Namjoon’s face when he entered the gym, all fake smiles and a pep in his step.

“____, could you help me spot?” Namjoon breathes, sitting up from whatever the hell he was doing with the barbell. You weren’t fixated with gym language and you weren’t even sure why he was asking you when there was an entire Jimin and Taehyung right next to you.

“Uh, okay sure—“

“Noona,” Jungkook calls.

You freeze.

“Jungkook … I thought we established that you don’t need to call me that anymore.” You raise an eyebrow.

You miss the obvious glare that Namjoon shoots his bitchass friend, as well as the snorts that leave Jimin and Taehyung’s mouth.

“Pay attention to me,” Jungkook pouts. Like, actually pouts. You somehow flush because he seemed so much like the younger version of Jungkook who used to always coddle you for attention.

“Okay but after I help—”

“Yeah. After she helps me.” Namjoon interjects, and you nearly jump at the way he’s suddenly behind you, more so—pressed against your back with his hands on your hips as he moves you aside to get to another piece of equipment.

Your breath hitches because while you weren’t exactly invested in Namjoon in the romantic sense, he was undeniably attractive and … big. You could salivate in private.

“Oh my God, do you see that?” Taehyung hisses in a hushed whisper.

“Hyung is petty,” Jimin gawks.

“This is Namjoon we’re talking about. Didn’t he steal all the umbrellas from your dorm because you ratted him out to the librarian when he broke a bookshelf?” Taehyung recalls.

Jimin pauses to retract his mind to that moment.

“He’s so petty and I’m living for it. Look at Kook’s face,” He snickers, nudging Taehyung with his shoulder.

Jungkook only can clench his jaw in return because he knew that you wouldn’t be a fan of him reaching out to strangle the shit out of Namjoon. But the older boy seems fine, if not pleased with how Jungkook’s fuming in his own spot.

“Let me just …” You cock a thumb to Namjoon, before releasing a breath of your own and going to help him with whatever he needed in the first place.

“Jimin can help him. I have a more pressing problem.” He complains.

You stop in your tracks before turning around, raising an eyebrow at Jungkook who finally sits up, still staring at you like you held all the solutions in the world.

“Literally wait for your turn,” Namjoon scowls.

“My arm hurts,” Jungkook says, raising his arm to show you. 

“I don’t … see anything?” You furrow your brows.

“Because my muscles hurt, Noona,” Jungkook emphasises with a flex of his bicep and you can feel yourself get hot in the way your eyes can’t stray away.

You’re momentarily distracted by the blatant display of muscle by Jungkook that you completely miss the way that Jimin and Taehyung are struggling to breathe because of how hard they’re stifling their laughter or the way that Namjoon is contemplating on throwing the nearest dumbbell into Jungkook’s direction.

You flush, “Okay, you know what? Wait here. Let me get the first aid kit.” You mumble, quickly scampering off to alleviate yourself from the situation.

The moment you leave the room, Namjoon takes two long strides until he reaches where Jungkook’s sat, before wrapping a hand around the arm that was supposedly hurt—and squeezes.

“Ow! What the fuck hyung?!” Jungkook shrieks.

“Don’t hyung me, you brat.” Namjoon seethes, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Jungkook gapes, while Jimin and Taehyung watch in amusement.

“Me?! What’s wrong with you?” Jungkook retorts, equally as agitated, “Oh, _____, help spot me! Woe is me! Like she wouldn’t get crushed under you, you meathead!” 

“Like you’re any better,” Namjoon snaps, “Oh, Noona, pay attention to me. My arm hurts. You might as well have asked her to change your fucking diapers at the rate you’re acting like a damn child.”

“You’re the one that started all of this!” Jungkook exasperates, “With all due respect hyung, I love you and you’re my captain but I really feel like smashing your head into the wall right now.”

“That’s it?” Namjoon scoffs, “Well I’ll do you one better and let you know that every time you breathe in my direction I feel like—”

“Oh my God will you two idiots shut the fuck up?” Taehyung interjects, snapping at the two boys who pause, staring up at him with wide eyes.

Even Jimin is surprised at Taehyung’s intervention, purely because he was the type that usually let shit slide or let other people put problematic individuals into place. He was the mediator, the diplomat—not usually the aggressor.

“Wha—”

“Another peep and I’m going to smother your body under the dumbbells and leave you here to rot and die.” Taehyung seethes, staring straight into Jungkook’s soul.

That shuts him up.

“Both of you are acting like goddamn children, and for what? To battle out your masculinity to see who gets ____’s attention first?” Taehyung exasperates.

Namjoon clears his throat, “We were just—”

“—acting like a bunch of barbarians who’s never seen civilisation?” Taehyung retorts dryly, “Yeah. Because that’s exactly what this looks like. The two of you are so petty and for what? You two are literally rubbing the last remaining brain cells you have with each other but nothing is coming out from it. Like—nothing. Do you think she’d give a shit which one of you can lift more reps? That means absolutely nothing! She’s already freaked the fuck out at the prospect of her childhood best friend being in love with her and now we have Big Tit Number One and Two battling it out like you’re in the Greek Olympics.”

Jungkook blinks, and Jimin is mildly impressed.

“So before she comes back and tends to Jungkook’s hurt muscle,” Taehyung sneers, eyes narrowing at a guilty-looking Jungkook, “Both of you better sort your shit out.”

Namjoon flushes, embarrassed at the prospect of being called out, all while Jungkook is avoiding eye contact at all costs.

“Oh my God, do you have a crush on each other or something? Apologise!” Taehyung gestures towards the two boys who awkwardly blink at each other, feeling much like reprimanded children.

It’s Namjoon who breaks the silence first, clearly the more mature one in the situation.

“Look … Jungkook,” He sighs, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to … drag it out like this. I don’t mean it maliciously and you’re my friend and teammate, so I’d really hate if a girl got in the way.”

Jungkook nibbles on his lips, eyebrows still scrunched; and the irrational part of him tells him to ignore the apology. But with the way that Taehyung is glaring him down, with Jimin’s expectant gaze, he knows that he doesn’t have much of a choice.

“I’m sorry … too,” he winces at his own voice, “But just to let you know … I really …” He shuts his eyes, feeling his chest tighten when he tries to force the words out, “She isn’t just … a girl to me, hyung. I really, really like her. And—I know you like her too but … I fucked up and I really want to make things right and seeing you—”

Jungkook is flushing while he rambles on, fully aware that the rest of his friends are listening intently to him speaking his heart. But a hand rests itself on his shoulder, and when Jungkook opens his eyes he sees Namjoon offering him a gentle smile.

“I know,” He says, “I know I said I wouldn’t back off …” He trails off and Jungkook recalls the conversation he had with him in the very same gym just a few weeks back, “But I don’t think I can compete with a decade long love story.” 

Jungkook scoffs, though his ears are flushed.

“It’s really not—”

Namjoon waves him off, clasping a tight hand onto his back that tells him it’s okay, and whatever that was going on would get better. And Jungkook feels marginally better and allows himself to let out a sigh of release.

“So are the two of you gonna kiss or what?” Jimin asks in the midst of the silence.

Namjoon glares at the boy, “Don’t make me give you an extra ten laps.”

He backs down immediately, raising his hands up in defence. And at that moment, you return, all smiles and with a pant as you raise the first aid kit up.

“Your arm?” You smile sweetly, and Jungkook can only offer a weak on in return.

“Can I ask you something?” 

“Depends. Will I have to run from the government if I answer you honestly?” Yena ponders out loud.

You roll your eyes but shake your head anyway. The two of you were meant to be cooking dinner but you’ve surrendered yourself to Netflix and Yena’s witty live commentary on horrible films you were scrolling through an hour earlier. Though, your head wasn’t quite in it, to begin with; your thoughts drifting to other aspects, ones that you thought too hard for and didn’t necessarily know the answer to.

It was frustrating, the way that you wanted to have a solution for everything but overthought every single case that happens to pass by your mind. 

“No one’s hunting anyone down, your anarchist,” You say, “This is a little … personal.” 

You didn’t have any girl friends prior to Yena, and that was your first mistake. You weren’t the person that actively avoided having girl friends because you thought they were dramatic or overly emotional but purely because you never knew how to befriend women. It was weird—being a woman yet being muddled with your own sense of femininity that suppressed your ability to form meaningful friendships with your women peers.

Throughout most of your childhood and teenaged life, you only had Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook. While they were more than enough to keep your memories cheerful and filled with laughter, there were more personal things that you couldn’t quite approach them with. They had each other to confide in their ‘manly’ discussions, small talk that you’d often flush at—but you couldn’t ask them the same things you wanted to.

You knew, that on a fundamental level that your personal things were just … things. It wasn’t that deep, nor did it require a PhD in Gender Studies to fully understand the nuance of periods or apparent ‘girl’ problems; you just needed to listen. But you were timid, and you got embarrassed super easily—so that never boded well whenever you’d want to approach them with a question of your own.

But now, you had Yena—debatably the most open and understanding person you’ve met in your life; and you owed it to yourself, and her—to be honest, to live yourself vicariously in your girl best friends eyes—and ask:

“How do you have sex?”

Granted, there was definitely a smoother way of peeling off the bandaid, but you supposed if you were going to be discussing this one way or another, you’d go big or go home.

“I’m sorry,” She coughs, “What?”

You blink.

“Sorry, I guess I should’ve asked if you were a virgin first …” You mumble.

Yena stares at you with a stupefied expression as she gapes at you.

“Hey, repeat after me: candy, tree and cat.” She grabs you by your shoulders.

“I’m not cerebrally compromised, Yena,” you say dryly.

“Repeat,” She glares.

You huff, shoving her hand off your shoulder.

“Candy, tree and cat. There, happy?” You huff.

She eyes you weirdly as you sigh. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes!” You exasperate, “So like … how? Do you just? Penetrate?”

Yena blinks one more time, her eyes trailing to the ceiling as she asks for a higher being to give her strength before she returns her gaze onto your figure.

“Babe, that is literally the unsexiest way to approach sex.” 

“Penetration?” You furrow your brows.

She scrunches her brows, “No.” She gestures to you, “That.”

You scowl.

“I don’t know how to approach sex! That’s why I’m asking you. I literally don’t know who else to approach. If I went to Jimin or Taehyung I’m pretty sure they’d just stare at me and cry. Namjoon is out of the picture because he’d likely approach sex textbook style and I don’t need that level of detail right now. I definitely can’t ask Jungkook because he’s the guy I wanna have sex with. So yeah. I’m here because you’re a woman and the only person I can have a full conversation with without losing my will to live.”

Yena gawks at you, jaw slack as you finish your ramble; ears flushed.

“… you …” She begins, wracking her brain for the words that seem to fail her, “… okay. You know what, the fact that you’re here and putting your big girl pants on and asking me this is a feat in itself so I’m going to just ignore the fact that you said you wanted to have sex with Jungkook.”

You flush, “I was word vomiting—”

“Ah,” She holds her hands up, levelling you with a knowing glare, “If you want honest, you be honest too.”

You slump in your seat, sighing as you nod your head defeatedly.

“Firstly, I’m not a virgin. I could never be a virgin.” Yena declares, “Granted, I’ve slept with three people and two of them were women. But the idiot I lost my virginity to was, unfortunately, of XY chromosomes so … I guess I can answer your questions.”

“I mean … I know how sex works but … approaching it …” You mutter.

“And sex isn’t this groundbreaking act that requires Einstein’s IQ to partake in. It’s both intimate and not, and that’s definitely a personal preference. You can know the semantics of how people have sex, for hets in this case, which is just the classic ol’ penetration method where the penis enters the—”

“Your point?” You exasperate.

“—okay, I got a little carried away. But really, sex isn’t … difficult. It’s scary, I’ll give you that. But you don’t go into your first time thinking you’ll be great at it. Hell, you won’t even like sex that much your first few times unless your partner is a sex demon or something.”

“I mean when Jungkook …” You shudder, “When he … I … you know, did things … it felt …” You fiddle with your fingers. Your ears were undoubtedly on fire, and you were so embarrassed saying these things out loud because it was just so awkward!

“Good? You know I’m not going to judge you for it,” she says pointedly, “That’s what friends are for, right?”

You flush, covering your face with your hands in embarrassment. You knew that Yena would never judge you for something as trivial and as unimportant as your sexual endeavours, but this was still a road you’ve yet to properly navigate yourself.

“I … came,” you wince at your breathy voice, “It felt good. And … he’s experienced, you know? I just don’t want to …”

Yena looks at you inquisitively.

“You don’t want to …?”

You sigh deeply, considering your next words with a soft murmur, “I don’t want to not live up to his expectations, you know?”

She frowns at you, “Jungkook’s made some mistakes but you said it yourself. He’s in love with you,” she says softly, “There’s no pressure to have sex with him just because it’s out in the open now, you know?”

You nibble on your lips.

“It’s … more than just that,” you tell her, “I told him I needed time, and really, I do. But it isn’t because I’m confused. I mean, kind of—but really it’s because I don’t want to walk into something and disappoint him … I’m just … scared.”

Yena holds your hand in hers while offering you a gentle smile.

“It’s valid that you’re scared. But there really isn’t anything that can come out of being scared right now. The two of you worked through an obstacle, and here you are creating another one that doesn’t quite exist yet. Trust me, when the time feels right, it does. And you’ll feel ready. Will you still be scared? Maybe. But it’ll feel like it’s meant to fit within your timeline.”

You nibble on your lips, “Is it bad that I’m overthinking this?” You wince.

Yena shrugs her shoulders, “Like everything else in your life?” She teases.

You whine, shoving at her shoulder playfully where all Yena does is snicker in response. You weren’t quite sure what you were expecting out of the conversation, even if it was vaguely about the ins and outs of sexual exploration. And she was right, you’ll always be afraid of something, whether it’ll benefit you or harm you because that’s what change does. It shifts your comfort zone into a space that may be unfamiliar but necessary.

You lean into Yena’s shoulder, and a wave of overwhelming emotion washes upon you when you look at her. You really didn’t know how you survived a time without Yena in your life. And as if she’s noticed your glassy gaze, she raises an eyebrow at you.

“What are you looking at?”

You grin at her, all teeth and gums on display as you hug onto her arm like a koala.

“I’m just really happy you’re in my life.” You sigh wistfully.

She pauses for one whole second before she snorts.

“Wow, talk about sex once and suddenly you’re in love with me?” She wiggles her eyebrows at you, “Tell Jeon and Kim that you’re mine now.”

You giggle, rolling your eyes.

“They’re not even competing in the same league as you are,” you assure her.

She smiles.

“So … does that mean I don’t need to get you a birthday gift?”

That earns a thwack on her shoulder.