#THIS GAME IS TWENTY FIVE YEARS OLD MY BROTHERS ARE OLDER THAN THIS GAME.

[author-main]

I responded to this anon right before I went to bed and didn't feel like causing a scene right before I slept. So like... I kind of meant what I said here but I did feel really wrong about it too. So for the sake of giving a more detailed answer

-1. Yeah duh it's uncomfortable. You think I don't think it's uncomfortable? Not too long ago I talked about how I, a black zelda fan, feel alone in this fandom. The loneliness feel, I would say, started with OoT. I'M uncomfortable with this idea. My version of Time not only means a lot to others, but to me, too. If I decided to do this to his character it would hurt me. I'm considering this despite how uncomfortable it is. You know what else is uncomfortable? Blood and Gore. Death. Anything going on with Wild is uncomfortable, even more so because I have to draw it. I plan on writing a long fic where a character is dealing with suicidal thoughts. That's INCREDIBLY uncomfortable, too. Slightly racist Time? Time growing up somewhat prejudiced due to his environment? I gotta tell you chief, it's not the worst thing I can do to a Link.

-2. Uncharacteristic? This is a LINK. There is no character. There is no character in BotW Link, no character in MC Link. And there is no character in OoT Link because it's a LINK. The player makes the character. I make the character. And if you wanna talk about being in character, apparently there's a gerudo mask that you can wear around and interact with people, and scare them, and Darunia in particular literally says he hates them. So like excuse me for thinking this is absolutely insane and worth bringing up as a piece of plot, by using the Hero meant to protect the kingdom --that has ran off an entire race-- to express how this isn't okay.

-3. I stand by what I said about the racism being baked into the game, product of its time or not. But this isn't a product of its time. Just this year, I find it super fucked up that Nintendo would write in that the TotK Gerudo Sage feels that the race as a whole are responsible for Ganondorf's actions just because they birthed him. The shit is still HERE.

-4. I don't wanna make it seem like a bigger deal than it is, but don't call it spicy. It's not that I don't care if other people are mean to Link but is it because he is Hylian specifically??? Do these other races dislike him for being a Hylian more than they hate the Gerudo simply for being the Gerudo? Because if not... that doesn't matter to me as much as you think it does.

-5. I could twist your last statement into "I don't hate the Gerudo, I even have a Gerudo friend" just like that. That's how it sounds.

No other words to add on to your second paragraph. Other than, the fact that you even said that makes me wonder if you even read my explanation at all, because I literally said I didn't think it was racist in the first paragraph. Like do you understand how big of an impact OoT has had on the franchise as a whole? Do you understand that all the racist shit in that game has made it to the year of the tears 2023? Do you think I was going to leave him staying however racist I made him in my story? Do you think I take this lightly?

Excuse me, for making the Dad of the Chain look this fucking bad. I love the guy, I really do, I hold him very dear in my Zelda-loving heart. I enjoy him as just a kind anchor to the chain, this has little to do with LU Time. This is about how OoT Link and his game molded this franchise and fandom, the good, the bad, and the ugly. Are you upset that I see something nasty and might want to bring it up?

For those who want to read the first explanation it's here. I explained specifically what went on in OoT and the Child Timeline (Nintendo's timeline to simplify things) because that's what I believed what was needed to explain why I thought Time could be the way I could make him.

(Anon from before) even after reading your explanation I dont think it would fit the character it's also very uncomfortable, while it is fine and encouraged to give characters big flaws it's just weird to make him bigoted towards an entire race given that his story itself doesnt support it, as the racism is more a product of it's time than it is something that would reflect with the character given that not only is every other race spicy to him so why would he perpetuate it but other than ganondorf he shows no ill intent to the other gerudo he interacts with and has a good relationship with one in particular.

His comment towards Ganon is something that's only aimed towards Ganon, it just felt like a weird stretch to say hed be racist when after all hes gone through hed be the least racist

I see, it's been a long time since I've caught up with the story of OoT and MM, like I said. So I know I'm missing things.

Yes, the racism is a product of its time, but it's still there, baked into the game, reflected in the world. It's hard for me to separate this. However, I think I do need to look back at the games. I don't remember other races being negative towards him, but you may be right. Again, that idea is just an idea that was floating around in my head. It's still just a "maybe". But you've turned that into a "probably not".

As for the last thing about the comment about Ganondorf. I said that I'm aware, and I know that in context, the comment is not bad at all, and it makes complete sense. It was a thing that was mentioned in a convo, and I was like, "Huh... that could be taken badly" (in a fanfic sort of way, not in a Oh Jojo fucked up way). I don't think I have the patience to put it into aluw, but sometimes I think about writing something mean.

[flamingpudding]

Not my Circus

A/N: I hate my brain and it's suckish timing...

Danny was a circus kid. He knew that, and so did his parents. Well, the once that took him in when he was five. He knew he had a loving family before the Fentons. Yet he doesn't know himself why he never put in more effort to return to them. No, wait, he had an idea what his five years old mind could have been thinking.

If Freakshow and his mockery of a circus had never shown up in Amity. Then Danny might have pushed the thought of his original family to the side forever. He had been a foolish kid back then, reckless and tempramental, unlike his older brother. He had tried to follow into his parents' and brother's footsteps, but he wasn't as graceful or acrobatic as they were. It was irony really with how much he liked flying and doing tricks in the air now. But still he remembered having a lot of frustrated fights with his brother about his inability to be like them.

When he got reminded he started to do a bit of a more serious research again and when he found out about his originals parents death half a year after he was first declared missing from the circus as well as his older brothers having gotten adopted too, he had dropped it all again. Pushing all of that back into the deepest depths of his mind again. His older brother was doing well. There was no need for him, for Danny.

That went well until Jazz went to university in Gotham and convinced him to go there to collage too, when he sort of forcefully retired from being a teen hero. It went well for a couple of years until his mid twenties.

Because despite Gotham being a city way bigger than Amity, there were still chances of you running into certain people.

The moment he entered the coffee shop and saw the others face, everything he had pushed aside in his mind came right back to the forefront of his mind.

How he foolishly trained in acrobatics behind his families back after another fight while they were moving towns and fell off the wagon.

How he had felt like he enjoyed not feeling presured to be like them and didn't put too much effort into returning to them when he was with the Fenton as well as thinking that his elder brother was probably happier without a stubborn little brother.

How when he looked them up he dropped it just as fast when he learned about their deaths and his elder brothers adoption.

He blinked wide-eyed at the man that stood before him a teen next to him while he held two cups of coffees. He, too, was staring at Danny frozen.

Now Danny had several options of how to handle the situation. And he most likely didn't choose the best one at first as usual. Because what he did in response at seeing Richard 'Dick' Grayson was to turn tail and run even using is invisibility and intangiblity.

What Danny didn't know was that Dick's first, thought, was someone cloned him and not that his missing brother from his days before the Waynes was back.

Thus a game of mouse was started...

[lovecla]

OCEAN EYES | connor bedard

chapter one.

➴ warnings: swearing, underage drinking.

➴ word count: 3.2k

➴ author's note: omg this is my first time actually publishing something i wrote. the things i do for you, connor bedard. hope u like it <3

“SOMETHING tells me I shouldn’t be surprised to see you like this, but I still am.” You hear his voice before you can actually see him, which makes you wipe your tears fast and sigh loudly.

A girl can’t cry to her favorite Marvel movie anymore.

“You should try minding your own business. It’s super fun,” you say, putting the bowl of popcorn down and pausing the movie.

“Why would I even do that? Minding yours is way funnier.” Alex says, putting his luggage on the floor and sitting right beside you. You fight the urge to hug him tightly just because you don’t want to admit you’ve missed him a lot.

“What are you even doing here?”

He scoffs. “Last time I checked, this was my house.”

“You know what I mean,” you roll your eyes. “What are you doing here? You weren’t supposed to be back in Illinois until tomorrow evening.”

“Well, after yesterday’s W, we thought it’d be great to be back earlier,” he grinned and you sighed, again. You knew what that meant.

Winning equals partying in Hockey world and usually, the party happened at Alex’s house since he had a big ass house, no wife, no parents, no kids. Just an eighteen year old sister living with him before moving to her own apartment.

Having a somewhat famous brother wasn’t exactly in your to-do list but here we are. After Alex joined the Blackhawks, everything went upside down in the best way possible. For him, you mean.

For you and my parents it meant going to every game, every party, every important dinner. And even though you’re not complaining at all, it was so much in such little time. So you’re still getting used to it.

But Alex won’t make it any easier. Every time they win and come back home, it’s a party. Your parents stopped showing up after the first one— they opened the door of the guest room (where they were staying) to find Donato fucking some random girl. It wasn’t exactly his best moment, you’ll give him that.

“What time does it start?” You ask, starting your movie again.

“Eight p.m. sharp. Bedsy will be here so you can be weird together or whatever y’all teenagers do.”

“You’re just five years older than me, dumbass. Just because you bought your own mansion at twenty-two, doesn’t mean that you’re that old.”

“Whatever. The point here is: y’all weird.”

As much as you’d like to prove him otherwise, he isn’t one hundred percent wrong.

You and Connor met two years ago, when he and Madi were still living in Sweden. Despite what everyone thinks, some NHL agents already had their eyes on Connor, so they’d casually invite him (and he always brought Madi with him) to games, including the games your brother would play.

You befriended his sister quickly because, hello, she’s just the best human being in the entire world (hopes Chloe doesn’t hear you) and suddenly, going to his games wasn’t that bad anymore.

One day, Madi couldn’t go to one of the games, so when you went to chat with her, you just found Connor, chilling by himself.

“Hum, hi?” You remember saying, very embarrassed and awkward. You weren’t afraid of him, you had spoken to him before and he is friendly, despite what everyone else seems to think. He’s just. Quiet.

“Hi, Ellie,” he answered, taking his eyes off the rink for once. His face was like always: expressionless. “Madi couldn’t make it today. I’m the only Bedard you’ll have today, I’m afraid.”

You laughed, because, what, had he just made a joke? Crazy. Then you sat on the seat beside him and made yourself comfortable, trying to find Alex in the sea of big, aggressive men.

That was kind of the beginning of your friendship. Just like that, you talked his ears off during the entire game, complaining more than speaking, really. You’re not much of a calm person when it comes to game watching. And whenever you thought he wasn’t listening, you’d stop talking, and then he’d look at you and say things like:

“So? Where’s the rest of the story? I’m interested in why you think The Incredible Hulk is the worst Marvel movie.”

And then, when he joined your brother’s team, you were more than happy. He and Mads got to be closer and you could hang out with her whenever school and her job let you.

“I don’t think we are weird. At all. We’re just not excited about partying every single day like you are.” You replied, trying to distract yourself from the fact that Natasha Romanoff had just died on screen.

It should have been that fucking Clint asshole. Fuck him.

“Every time I throw a party here, you both just stay on the couch talking and talking, not a single drink in y’all’s hands. I get that you can’t really drink yet but at your age I was getting shit faced whenever I had the chance.”

“That isn’t the brag you think it is but fine,” He flipped you off and you smiled. “Can I invite Chloe?”

“I mean, I invited fifty guys to our house, you might as well invite your annoying girlfriend as well.” He used that one tone he always used whenever he’s annoyed and it made you roll your eyes, again.

“She isn’t annoying.”

Even though it isn’t a lie, it felt like one. Ever since you started hanging out with the players of Alex’s team more, she started to act weird. And she’s kind of obsessed with Bedard. But then again, half of the hockey community is so.

No biggie.

“Whatever, loser,” he slapped your forehead and you hit him with the pillow you were resting your head on. “You stink.”

“You fucking stink. Go change into something that isn’t a suit, weirdo.”

“I will, but not because you asked me to. I was going to do that anyway.”

You smirked. “Of course you were.”

—

EVEN though you didn’t plan on staying up the entire night like your brother and some of his teammates— the majority of the guys your brother invited were still in his twenties like him, so they don't have big responsibilities like kids or wives or husbands—, you still dressed up a bit.

Thankfully this isn’t anything fancy, so you just put on a black, silky, maxi skirt, a corset-like tube top and low heels. Since you got lazy and ended up listening to music instead of getting ready, you had to put your hair in a slick bun because it was already eight and you still weren’t ready. So, slick bun it is.

Your phone rings and you pick it up, reading Chloe’s texts:

You sent a quick nice and put on some perfume. It’s not long until you hear a quick knock on my door, followed by a blonde mess that you like to call your best friend.

“Hi, oh my God, you look stunning.” You say as soon as you both make eye contact, because Chloe’s just so freaking beautiful.

“I know,” she replies, sitting on your bed. “How are you?”

“I’m fine. Not really in the mood for partying though.”

“Are you kidding?” She slaps her knees with her hands, a smile on her face. “You have a house— no. Not a house. A mansion full of hot hockey players and you’re not in the mood for partying? What do you mean!”

You shrug. “You know I’ve never really cared about hockey. I don’t see the appeal, if I’m being honest.”

It’s true. Even before Alex made it to the NHL, you always thought hockey was just… alright. You don’t get why people get so excited to see some guys throwing a puck and skating. The fights are always fun to watch, though.

“You’re crazy,” she says, and you think she’s probably right. “Is Bedard coming?”

“I don’t really know. Maybe?” You replied, turning around and facing her. “Maybe yes. He’s on the team after all and he did score the last goal.”

“So. I need you to do something for me.” Chloe replied after a minute or two, and just by seeing the crazy look she has on her face, you knew that this isn't a really good thing.

You sigh. “What do you need?”

“I need you to introduce me to him.”

“Him?” You ask, confusion taking over your entire face.

She rolls her eyes. “Connor! I need you to introduce me to Connor!”

You don’t know why but her sentence makes your heart beat faster. You don’t like this feeling or her words either. But you just swallow your discomfort down and try to keep your expression neutral.

“Bedard? Why do you want that? You’ve never even acknowledged him in the past two years.”

“Well, I was waiting for him to make the move, but he’s so oblivious sometimes,” she says, sighing. “Honestly, I thought he liked you. You know, with how close you both are.”

You almost choke on your own spit. “Connor? Liking me?”

“I know it sounds crazy, but you can’t really blame me though. You’re all over each other and you even sit on his lap during movie nights.”

True. But also, not true.

“Well, I do that with all of my friends. I mean, I would do that if I had more friends. It’s not really my fault I just have you, Madi, Alex and Connor. I can sit on your lap if you want to—”

“Ew, not happening,” she fake-gags, making you laugh. “Anyway. Recently he said in an interview that he is single and not interested in anyone in particular. Soo, that’s my chance!”

You don’t know if you’re more weirded out with the fact that she watched one of his interviews or with the fact that she wants to be with him. And what makes you feel even weirder is the fact that you actually can picture them as a couple.

Chloe is your perfect WAG: blonde, rich, tall, good on cameras and gorgeous, even for an eighteen year old, fresh out of high school. She’s always at random, fancy parties because she says college isn’t for her, so she needs to find a rich, hot husband for herself.

You’ve never really said anything about that because you don’t think relying on a man to provide for you is the right decision. You want to get into college and continue to study so you can make your own name, and now that Alex’s known, you will need to work twice as hard to make sure you’re not getting anything just because you’re his sister.

But thinking about Chloe trying to make Connor her husband?

Yeah. It made you feel terrible.

“Yeah, I don’t know about that, Chloe…”

“Wait, what?” Something like anger flashed through her eyes. “You don’t think I have a chance with him? Why?”

“No, it’s not that, it’s just—” God, why were you feeling like this? It’s just Connor. A guy you met two years ago. “Connor’s really closed. We’ve never talked about relationships. I don’t know how to approach him.”

The smile is back on her face. “That’s fine. You just have to tell him hi, this is my best friend, chloe. And I’ll do the rest.”

You had a bad feeling about this. And it probably showed in your face because Chloe was frowning, again.

“Ellie,” she said, slowly. “Do you like him? Is that why you don’t want to introduce us?”

You were the one frowning now. Liking Connor? Seeing him as anything more than a friend? No, what? Crazy. Chloe was nuts. You just didn’t want him to get hurt. That was all.

“What?! No. No, of course not!” You said, feeling hot. “Connor is just a friend. Like you.”

“So?” Chloe said, quietly. “You will introduce us, right?”

“Yes,” you replied, without hesitating this time. “Please, be nice to him.”

“Oh, I am going to be nice,” she smirks. “I don’t know about the things I’m planning on doing with him though.”

She laughed out loud and even though you didn’t find anything funny, you laughed too. Even if your heart felt like it weighed more than the whole moon.

—

FINDING Bedard wasn’t as easy as it sounded.

Even though your brother’s house was big, it felt crowded with people. Alex said it’d only be fifty guys or so, but he forgot that those fifty guys were bulky and big, so it would feel like his house had at least eighty people there.

The music wasn’t extremely loud, it was just a background noise, so everyone could hear each other just fine. And boy, were those hockey men loud.

Every time one of them recognised you, they’d just shout and raise their arms, with either beer or liquor in his hands. It took you and Chloe at least fifteen minutes to get to the kitchen, so Chloe could get a drink for her and you a diet soda. You hated the taste of alcohol.

“God, at this point we’re never finding him,” Chloe mumbled, sipping on her beer and making a disgusted face. “You need to tell your brother to buy some proper beer.”

You chuckled. Despite everything Alex said, he’d probably freak out if you asked for alcohol. “I could always call Bedard. If he’s here, he’ll show up.”

“Yeah, do that. I’ll go to the bathroom real quick, and I’ll be back.”

You nodded, grabbing your phone and searching for Connor’s number. You finger just a centimeter from the screen, your heart beating fast in your chest, and you wanted to punch yourself when you caught yourself thinking I hope he doesn’t answer.

“I’m the world’s worst best friend,” you mumbled to yourself, disappointed with your own stupid brain.

“That skirt looks good on you,” you heard Connor’s voice and you looked down fast, checking to see if you had actually called him. When you found your phone still on the contact list, you furrowed your brows. “Hi, El.”

You turned around just to see Connor standing there, with his awkward smile and blue eyes. His hair was a bit longer than you remembered but it looked even better than before. He looked good.

You smiled, all that tension from before gone in seconds. “Hi, Con. I was literally just about to call you.” You raised your phone, showing it to him.

“Yeah?” He stepped closer, wrapping his arms around you, holding you close. Hugging him was something that felt so precious because he never really did it with many people, and to think you’re one of the lucky ones? Yeah. Precious.

“Yeah,” you replied, hands around his middle, your height difference making the whole thing funnier. You stepped back, looking him in the eye. “I— I need to… hum. Introduce you to someone.”

He raised his brows, just slightly. His face going all-Bedard like again. “It isn’t a boyfriend, is it?”

“No?”

“That sounded more like a question than an affirmation. Are you seeing anyone?”

“What? No,” you laughed, amused with his answers. “No, I’m not. You and Madi would be the first to know if I were, I promise.”

“Then, who is it? Last time you said you had to introduce me to someone, I had to chat for forty minutes with an old lady who thought the Avengers were real.”

“Don’t call Susy old!” You threw your arms up, still laughing. “And that day was funny as fuck. Also, I see myself in her, so if you don’t like her, you probably don’t like me as well.”

“Bullshit. You know I like you.” He said, blue eyes looking everywhere else but your face.

Your heart did that backflip it always does whenever Bedard says something like that. You smiled.

“I like you too,” you whispered. “But I need you to meet someone.”

Just before Connor could ask who that someone was, Chloe re-entered the kitchen, slowing her steps when she noticed that Bedard was there.

“Great, you’re here,” you said, holding one of Chloe’s hands and pushing her closer. “This is who I wanted you to meet. Chloe, this is Connor Bedard. Con, this is my friend Chloe.”

Chloe reached out her hand to greet him. “Hi! I’m a huge fan. Congrats on your win!”

Connor greeted her back, but his gaze was fixed on your face. It was extremely awkward and uncomfortable, all the tension from earlier coming back. Something that you couldn’t really identify flashed through Connor’s eyes and it made you want to scream.

“Hi. Thank you.”

Connor’s dry words didn’t seem to surprise Chloe. “Do you want to drink something? I make the best Black and Tan in the entire world.” She smiles.

Connor looked at you and you bit your lip, your mouth opening to speak before your brain could stop it. “It’s true. She does.”

“Oh, are you drinking now?” He sounded… angry?

“No, of course not,” you scoffed, wishing you had kept your mouth shut. “But people like it a lot.”

“I can’t drink. We have to hit the gym tomorrow morning.”

Blue eyes looked at you again and honestly? You were ready to call it a night and go back to your room, because what the hell. Connor wasn’t usually this complicated.

“Oh,” Chloe sounded disappointed but then. “Then maybe we can grab some drinks together tomorrow evening?”

Damn, she doesn’t give up.

“Sure. But El doesn’t drink.” He replied, leaning against the kitchen counter, his biceps practically ripping the tight shirt. You reminded yourself to stop staring.

And then you proceeded to remember what he’d just said.

“Um. I’m not coming,” you were sure your lipstick was already gone with how much you were biting your lip so you switched to picking on the skin around your nails. “I… I have… well, I’m—”

“She has a date.”

You and Connor both looked at Chloe. Your eyes doubled in size and you had to fight the urge to punch her. What the hell was going on with you that night, you wondered.

“Do you?” Connor asked, and he was definitely angry now. His face wasn’t showing anything but his eyes told the entire story. They had a storm going on inside of them and he had the same look as he did when that one guy made his teeth bleed during one game.

“That sounded more like a question than an affirmation. Are you seeing anyone?”

“What? No,” you laughed, amused with his answers. “No, I’m not. You and Madi would be the first to know if I were, I promise.”

Fuck.

“Well. It’s nothing serious. Just— a guy?” It definitely sounded like a question. Lying wasn’t exactly your best trait.

“Yeah, a guy. So, she can’t come. Just you and me,” Chloe continued, grabbing another beer and sipping on it. “Can you pick me up at seven? I’ll text you my address.”

Truthfully, you didn’t know how Chloe had the balls to act like this, especially with someone who hasn’t shown interest in her at all. Maybe this is what being confident means? You thought to yourself, trying to right her wrongs once more.

Connor just nodded and left the kitchen without saying a word.

“That went well, huh?” Chloe said, looking happy with the situation.

You just hummed, not wanting to lie more than you already did that night.

God.

[alotofpockets]

Off limits | Leslie Shay | 18+

Pairing: Leslie Shay x Severide!Reader & Kelly Severide x Sister!Reader Reader pronouns used: she/her Summary: You meet a girl in a bar, what happens when you find out that she's your brother's best friend?

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI

Masterlist | Chicago Fire masterlist | Words: 2k

It has been years since you’ve called Chicago home. You decided to move away from the city after the death of your father, Benny Severide, he was everywhere you looked. Mourning him while being surrounded by everything that reminded you of him was impossibly hard. Your brother Kelly, completely supported your decision and had even helped you move. Now that you had fully processed his death, you thought it was time to move back. You decided to call Kelly on your drive over. 

“Hey, sis, what’s up?” He said as he picked up the phone, by the loudness of his surroundings you knew he was on shift. “Is now a good time? I can call back later.” You should’ve known by now that he would make time for you no matter what. “You’re all good.” You stop at a redlight and continue your conversation with your brother. “I’m moving back to Chicago, actually I just started driving.” You could hear the happiness in his voice, “I’m so glad you’ll be closer again. Have you found a place yet?” He asks. “No not yet, I figured I would just stay at a hotel until I find a place.” Kelly was quick to respond, “Don’t be ridiculous, you can stay with me and Shay until you find something.” You hear a muffled voice on the other side of the line and then a response from Kelly, “Otis, stop it, she is my sister!” His next words are aimed at you, “Just so you know, 51 is off limits for dating, understood?” You laughed, “You’ve got it. I’ll see you later, bye Kelly.” 

You arrived in Chicago after a couple of hours, you felt like walking around for a while before heading over to the address that your brother texted you. It was good to be back, you had always loved it here. You were nearing the cemetery where your dad was buried, contemplating whether you should go visit his grave, ultimately deciding that you were ready. It was the first time you had been here since the day of the funeral, you noticed that the grave was well kept and fresh flowers were standing in a vase next to the headstone. It did you well knowing that Kelly came to visit him, when you weren’t able to. Your next stop was your favorite bar, you needed a drink after this big step. 

The ambiance in the bar was exactly as you remembered it. The string lights on the ceiling, the pictures of the locals on the wall, and the laughter and conversation filling the room. You spot a free chair at the bar and claim it. You order a beer, a burger and some fries. “Here you go.” The bartender hands you your beer, “The food will be out shortly.” You smile and thank him. Sipping on the beer, you look around the bar, you love to people watch and what better location than a busy bar? There was a group of older men playing a card game, the table filled with pints of beers. At the pool table you spotted a group, you assumed to be twenty five years old, playing an intense game of pool. You move on to the next part of the bar where you find a woman your age playing a game of darts with a fifty year old man, your eyes linger on the blonde woman. She throws her last dart and cheers, “You owe me a drink, Frank!” You miss the rest of the interaction as your food gets placed in front of you. 

You start on your burger and after a few bites the woman stands next to you at the bar. “A beer, please, and can you add it to Frank’s tab?” The bartender looks over to Frank, after a thumbs up he places a beer in front of her. “Smart way to get free drinks.” You comment. “Right?” The woman laughs. “Mind if I sit with you for a moment?” You pretend to think for a moment. “Depends, will you be tricking me into buying you drinks as well?” You joke. The woman is quick to respond, “Don’t worry, I don’t trick pretty girls into buying me drinks.” She raised her beer to cheers it with you. A small blush reaches your cheeks, “Then please take a seat.” She smiles and takes a seat. “I’m Leslie, by the way.” You shake her hand and introduce yourself as well, “Pleasure to meet you, Leslie, I’m y/n.” She smirks, “The pleasure is all mine.” 

The two of you fall into conversation easily. You watch as Leslie takes one of your fries, you don't mind at all, but you think it's funny that she just started eating your food. She realizes your eyes on her and realizes what she did. "Oh, I'm sorry. I don't know why I did that without asking you first." You place your hand on her knee, stopping her from rambling. "I don't mind, eat as many as you want." Leslie smiles your way, "Okay, but let me buy you your next drink. Another beer?" You tell her that she doesn't have to buy you a drink in return for eating your fries, but she insists. "Okay, but something non-alcoholic like a club soda or something. I have a feeling this will be an evening that I'd like to remember." You say with a subtle wink. Leslie smirks, and orders "Two club soda's, please."

You have just finished your food when Leslie’s favorite song comes on. “Come dance with me, please. This is my absolute favorite song!” Her enthusiasm pulls you over the edge to say yes. She takes your hand and guides you to the middle of the bar. While keeping hold of your hand she starts dancing around, once again her enthusiasm is contagious and you start dancing with her, the whole crowd at the bar disappears and it’s just you and her jumping around, dancing, and laughing. When the song comes to an end Leslie pulls you close, you’re both still breathing hard from the exercise you just did, but neither of you cared and crashed your lips together. You had been thinking of kissing her since the moment she took the seat next to you at the bar, but nothing you had imagined could amount to her lips actually being on yours. You each got carried away in the moment, but got pulled back to reality by the bar crowd cheering and whistling loudly. You look around the room wide eyed, not having expected so many people to watch you make out with someone. Leslie notices and takes your hand once more, “Come on, let’s get out of here.” 

After making sure you’re okay with it, she takes you to her apartment two blocks over. Once inside she takes your hand and guides you to her bedroom. She closes the door and pushes you against it, she wastes no time and starts kissing you again. This time without any crowd interruptions you deepen the kiss and soon your hands are exploring each other's bodies. You unbutton her flannel and drop it to the floor, she does the same to your shirt. Next thing you know she’s laying on top of you in her bed. You weren’t typically one to kiss on a first date, let alone go home with a stranger, but with Leslie it was different. The way she was pleasuring you felt more special, more meaningful than a one night stand. You hoped that she felt the same way. When you were both catching your breath, laying down next to each other, Leslie is quick to let you know that she feels the same way. “Please stay the night. I know we did things kind of backwards but I’d love to take you on a breakfast date in the morning.” You smile wide before kissing her softly, “I’d love that too.” 

You’re awoken the next morning by Leslie cuddling into your side. You smile with your eyes still closed and wrap your arm around her, cuddling her back. “Good morning.” She says in a raspy morning voice. You say good morning back and the two of you lay in bed cuddling for a little while longer, until Leslie offers you some coffee. Leslie gets out of bed first and grabs a shirt from the floor and puts it on, she looks down and laughs, “This is yours.” You laugh with her, “It looks good on you. Give me your flannel, please.” Leslie walks out of the room in just the shirt and her underwear, so you follow her lead and leave your pants in the room. You follow her into the kitchen and stand next to her at the counter as she fills two cups with coffee. That’s when you hear a door open somewhere in the apartment, you hadn’t exactly gotten as far as talking about roommates last night. You quickly button up the flannel some more, mentally thanking Leslie for the oversized flannel, covering you until mid-thigh. Nothing could’ve prepared you for the next moment, your brother walked into the kitchen. “Kelly?” You question out loud, confused as to what was happening. “Y/n? What are you  doing here?” Leslie looks confused between the two of you. Kelly walks closer and asks another question before you can even answer the first one. “And why aren’t you wearing any clothes?” He then looks over to Leslie, who is also not wearing enough clothes. “Oh no, no, no. I told you not to date anyone from 51.” 

Leslie is starting to connect the dots of Kelly’s sister coming to visit and the two of you knowing each other. A laugh escapes her mouth, but she quickly holds it in as Kelly sends her a stern look. “Just so we’re all clear, I did not know she was your roommate or worked at 51. Actually, thinking about it, you told me your roommate's name was Shay, this is Leslie.” Leslie steps closer to you and extends her hand, you take it with a confused look on her face. “Leslie Shay.” She says the laughter she’s holding is still present on her face. “Y/n Severide.” You say defeated. “Okay, now we’ve got that all figured out, I’m going to put some clothes on. Excuse me.” Leslie goes to follow you but is stopped by Kelly grabbing her arm. “Shay, you’re my best friend but she’s my little sister. I don’t know what your intentions are but if you hurt her..” Leslie stops him before he can finish his sentence. “Look, I don’t know what the future holds but I really like her. I’ve never felt this strongly about a person from the start, she’s special, and my intention was to take her out for breakfast this morning, please join us.” She doesn’t leave room for Kelly to respond and walks to her room. She knocks on the door before entering, she finds you sitting on her bed, staring at the floor. “Hey, it’s okay. He might kill me if I hurt you but I don’t intend on hurting you. He’s just being protective, he’ll be fine.” You take a deep breath, “Yeah, you’re probably right. This just wasn’t at all what I expected this morning.” She sits down next to you on the bed and hugs you tight. “I invited him to join us for breakfast, I hope that’s okay. He can’t be mad over food, trust me.” 

She was right, Kelly saw the way the two of you were interacting and his worries for you getting hurt eased. He trusted both you and Shay, you were both adults. You just also happened to be the two people he cared the most about in this world, but maybe that was a good thing, his two favorite people meeting and getting along so well. Kelly insisted on paying for breakfast, despite Leslie’s insisting that she’s got it. Leslie leans into your and whispers, I’ll take you on an actual date next time.

💗If you enjoyed this fic, please consider buying me a coffee💗 

[harrywavycurly]

Already in love with Eddie and his little book loving girls! Could we see the conversation reader has with Steve about if he knows anyone with the name Munson??? Love you Sarah!!!💕💕

Hiii babes!! Eddie’s little book lovers omggg that’s so cute!!! Sure you can see Reader asking Steve about him! I hope you enjoy!! Also love youu more!!💖

-this goes along with this post here✨

*also in this Eddie and Chrissy graduated with Nancy while you graduated the year after them*

“Too much caffeine isn’t good for you.” “Says who?” “Your much older and wiser brother…duh.” “Much older? Get real Steve you’re like twenty months older than me not eight years…” “still older is older.” “Well what can I do for you today oh wise one?” “Can I not just come see how my sister is doing at work?” “Steven….” “I get bored on my days off…so what’s new? Need help with these?” “Sure…oh can I ask you something?” “Oh you’re asking now before just blurting out random questions for me? How nice…but sure what’s up?” “Do you know anyone named Eddie Munson?” “Munson? Yeah I know him…well Dustin knows him more than me they are in a club together…or they were at least I’m not sure if it’s still a thing since Dustin is graduating this year.” “Did he go to school with us?” “Eddie? Yeah he graduated a year after me so he’d be…at least what? A year older than you…maybe?” “How does he have five year old twins then? Did he have them his senior year?” “Uh well people do have sex while in high school so yeah…I think their mom is…god what’s her name she was dating an asshole before she hooked up with Eddie…” “an asshole? That really narrows it down.” “His name was Jason…but her name is just…gone but yeah I remember Dustin telling me he got her pregnant right before she ended it with it but now they just coparent or…whatever.” “Chrissy Cunningham? That’s his baby momma?” “Yes! That’s her name!” “Shhh it’s a library Steve.” “Sorry…yeah that’s her but why all the questions about Eddie?” “Oh uhm I just saw him in here earlier with his girls…I don’t remember him in high school…” “well not to be rude but you were kinda a loser…but in a cool way? You just…kept to yourself that’s all.” “Thanks Steve…” “wait…oh my god…” “shut up.” “You think…he’s cute don’t you?” “Don’t you have a date to be getting ready for or something Mr. Ladies Man?” “No that’s not until tomorrow so…I have all the time in the world to make my little sister annoyed because her big brother knows who she’s crushing on.” “You’re so annoying.” “It’s the hair isn’t it? Or the rings? Does he still wear all those giant ass metal rings on his hands?” “Yes…” “yes he wears them or yes that’s what sucked you in?” “Please leave…” “oh don’t be like that…come on I’ll help you put the books away…but really Eddie is a nice guy…you should talk to Henderson if you wanna know more.” “Okay…maybe I will.” “The hunger games? What the hell is this about?” “Oh Steve…”

[headfullof-ideas]

Presenting two more characters and their redesigns in my HTTYD/The Deep story! One is more involved in the story, but the other makes PLOT, and neither really ever interact or connect to one another plot wise to my immediate knowledge in the overall story.

Introducing Savage and Eret!

Savage is not an Outcast and Alvins right hand man, but a true Berserker warrior, serving Oswald and his family for years. But when Oswald the Antagonistic becomes Oswald the Agreeable, Savage starts to grow restless. The Berserkers aren’t at war with the Berkians and surrounding tribes anymore, Oswald trying to maintain a semblance of peace in the dragon-war ridden Archipelago. Savage is a follower, not a natural born leader, but years of peace treaty after peace treaty, and babysitting Oswalds whelps has made him seek out other like-minded Berserkers, planning an uprising against the passive Chieftain. Oswald seemed to have caught on to what Savage was doing, escaping their attempted assassination, and now Savage is trying to commandeer the Berserker Tribe as a whole through sewing doubt amongst the tribe against Oswalds children, and trying to pit the siblings against one another in hopes they’ll simply get rid of the other for him. Savage isn’t good at thinking things through though, especially what the aftermath of his plans to stage a coup or civil war amongst the tribe to try and take leadership might be.

Eret son of Eret is a budding Dragon Trapper, partaking in his father’s business of trapping dragons and bringing them to Auction Markets run by the Grimborn brothers. Dragon Trapping was introduced to Erets family through his paternal Grandfather, with loans being taken from the wrong people, with no money to pay them back leading his Grandfather to Dragon Trapping. With similar habits being passed on to his son, Eret Sr, Eret has been taken on as crew for his fathers quest to pay off the debts his grandfather failed to pay, and his fathers own drunken mistakes. Eret isn’t sure how to feel about it all, his father pushing the looming mantle of Captain on to Eret as his eventual future, leaving whatever debts his father fails to pay before retirement for Eret to try and absolve, with old bedtime stories from his deceased mother and her side of the family speaking of dragons being more than wild animals. Eret’s been grappling with his internal struggles for a few years now, and a sudden interaction with some Archipelagon teenagers apparently riding dragons only rattles his inner beliefs even more.

I decided to go a bit of a different route with Savage in this story, making him a member of the Berserker tribe instead of the Outcasts. There are a lot of elements of his prior design still in this one, but he’s got a lead part in a lot of the early Berserker central arks and plots, especially in Heathers early story, and why she makes some of the decisions she does in Riders and Defenders of Berk, which has a sort of butterfly effect on the way she is in RTTE. He’s not a MAIN villain like the Grimborn brothers, Alvin, Heather, Drago, and a certain someone from the games, more of a small villain and a reoccurring nuisance. He gets his comeuppance however, as he’s not good at thinking things through, especially in the long run, and eventually gets revealed for all his nefarious schemes, and promptly exiled

Eret is a little different to the swashbuckling Dragon Trapper that’s in HTTYD 2, but he’s also nearly five years younger, a little older than Dagur and around the age that the riders were in RTTE. So, eighteen-nineteen-nearly twenty. He’s not Captain of the ship yet, and dealing with a lot of inner family struggles and trying to come to terms with what his future may hold. Generational and pawned off debt is how I play off (Headcanon wise) how he came to be under Drago’s employment in the films, and I’m playing with the setting of the early stages of how that happened here. With his grandfather and father both taking loans they couldn’t keep or pay back, and turning to Dragon Trapping to try and pay them off. Afterall, dragon parts and living dragons sell for a LOT of money. The Dragon Riders throw a bit of a wrench in things though, and Eret ends up being one of their first allies beyond Dagur and someone else in the Archipelago. He’s also a little shorter and not nearly as beefy as he is five years from then, not having the experience to build up that kind of muscle yet. I did this partly because of his age, and partly because Nico Marlets early concept art for him (whose HTTYD art I love and want tattooed to my brain) had him being a little more scrawny, and so I thought that was a nice callback

More characters to come…eventually, as it takes time to draw these, especially with the designing process I go through

[thornfield13713]

Question, how many Fallout characters do we have concrete ages for?

I know that MacCready is 22 as of Fallout 4, Maxson is, unbelievably, only 20, but beyond that I'm a bit less clear. I'd put Piper in her early twenties at most, based on how old her sister is, but that's just an approximation. Likewise, Hancock is...probably not more than five years younger than his brother, based on his childhood reminiscences in one of his affinity conversations, so...mid-forties through to early fifties would be my guess, being a ghoul makes it hard to tell (and he became a ghoul less than five years ago, based on the timeline for the expulsion of the ghouls from Diamond City). He may also be old enough to have an adult daughter, as apparently in-game files say he's Fahrenheit's father. Again, not sure how canonical that is, if anyone has an explanation, I'd be grateful. God alone knows how old Deacon is - it's hard to tell, what with the lying and face-changing, but Railroad terminal records have him as an agent of theirs a decade ago under the name Deacon, and Desdemona theorises that pre-existing agent John D. was also him, which means he's been in the Railroad twenty years at least. Assuming he's telling the truth about that last backstory (a pretty big 'if', but still), I'd put him at...fifties at least, possibly older (which makes me wonder if there might've been a bit more truth in that first story about being a synth than I credited.)

But, again, this is all speculation - does anyone know where I might be able to find evidence? For...eventual fic-writing reasons?

[bodhranwriting]

Dmitry Donne and the Great Lawyer Caper by Bodhrán M.

(I’m clearing out old drafts on my computer so I thought I’d share. This was an opening to a fantasy detective series written in February, 2022) 

Dmitry Donne was twenty-six years of age, a fact he did his best to obfuscate in either direction. With the right coat, right hat, and – above all – the right walk, Dmitry could be the youthful-looking twin of his oldest brother, some six years his senior – or pass for barely older than his notoriously indebted merchant of a youngest sister, five years in the other direction.

And while his abilities could have borne him for many years upon the boards – as they had another of his sisters – Dmitry didn’t fancy the life which came with it. Greasepaint also made him break into hives which had killed any lingering aspirations in that direction.

Instead, Dmitry Donne thought of himself as a fixer of problems and a seeker of secrets. He was less occupied with the pursuit of justice or truth, than he was scratching the itch of someone knowing something he didn’t.

In short, he was nosy and loved to pry.

At the precise moment our story begins, Dmitry was wondering if making snooping into a career had been a good move. Mostly because he was waist-deep in filthy seawater, numb fingers gripping the underside of the dock and hoping that lanterns glinting through the slats of wood weren’t enchanted to burn brighter when they sensed body heat. Although, to be fair, at this point, his body heat was probably sinking into unrecognisable levels.

And all this was because his landlady had complained that her wine seemed more watery than usual. Dmitry hadn’t had any other plans that week so now he was waiting to find out if the rest of his life was suddenly going to be as devoid of events.

A very respected wine-merchant in the Arts District was a secret gambler and had played his cards very wrong at a new underground gaming house. The gaming house apparently made a business of luring merchants to its premises, cheating at every game, and then extracting debts in the form of forcing them to sell their products. These products, of course, were being illegally distilled somewhere in the mountains, smuggled into the city, and had killed two people already.

Possibly three if he stuck around too long.

Dmitry looked down at the water, the surface spitting white foam around his body. He’d already been hiding here for precisely six minutes and thirty-four seconds. A few more minutes and even his caucho suit wasn’t going to protect him from hypothermia.

He hesitated. In the dark mirror of the ocean, he could see his face quite clearly. It had taken him ages to get his makeup right this morning. The eyeliner was impressive, even for him.

A shout echoed through the night. “He’s down there!”

“Great,” Dmitry muttered.

Footsteps thundered above his head shaking the dock like an earthquake.

Dmitry took and breath and sank into the water.

Luckily for him, apparently none of his pursuers had the Idiosyncrasy of aiming.

[nateconnolly]

The happiest day of my life was when Toby began showing an interest in cars. When he was five, all he cared about was dinosaurs. Then it was outer space. Toby didn’t like cars until he was ten-years-old, at which point I had basically given up hope. But now my little brother asks questions about cars as we drive to school. Every day without fail. And he’s learning to identify cars on sight. This morning, he pointed out a battered old Chevy in front of us.

“1980s Ford F350,” Toby guessed.

I imitated the buzzer sound that means wrong.

“Right decade, wrong company,” I corrected. “Chevy 3500.”

“But it had the Ford logo on the tailgate.”

“Not the original tailgate,” I said. “They’re both painted in the same color, but you can tell the tailgate is less faded than the rest.”

“Why would you put a Ford tailgate on a Chevy?”

“Sometimes you replace a part with the first thing you can find, even if it doesn’t match the rest. Especially on a car that’s twenty-years-old. Besides, it’s basically the same part. Only difference is the logo. There’s a few die-hards who worship at Henry Ford’s feet, but most people don’t really mind using the wrong logo when they need a part. And you can’t use a truck bed without a tailgate.”

“So how did you know it’s a Ford?”

“Are you kidding? Check out the corners on the top of the cab.”

Toby leaned forward to scrutinize the cab in question.

“But I got the decade right?”

“Yes. Yes, you did.”

“That’s good?” he asked. 

“That’s very good.”

Although Toby knows everyone in Tarwater, he doesn’t know all their cars. He only started learning the difference between manufacturers about two years ago. Now, he can guess the decade a car was made with reasonable accuracy. Sometimes, I take him all the way to the Interstate. When he gets a little older, we’ll have to fully leave town to play this game because he’ll already recognize all the cars in town. But not quite yet. He still needs practice identifying cars based on their shape. He relies too much on logos. 

I drive a silver 1991 Honda Civic. Not the world’s fanciest car, but I would have loved a bathtub with wheels if it could get me and Toby out of the house. And I would have loved it because it’s mine. Even a teenager’s first car, slow and old and basic, is still a car. 

Toby pointed at another truck. “Early ‘90s Nissan?” 

“Attaboy, Tobester!”

Full story free here

[aversiteespabilas]

THE DOLLS ARE BACK AND WETTER, SADDER, CUTER, AND STRONGER THAN EVER!!!

Yuki's DRENCHED, that poor bnnuy boy. I never knew how much I needed to see a wet pathetic rabbit until now. He looks like he'd make a wet splat sound if he was slapped on a wall (like throwing a soaked towel on tile.)

TETSU AND YUSUKE NOOOOO- There's so many emotionsss!!!! They're so disappointed in themselves, how could they let eachother down so terribly. But, God, they're so relieved to see eachother again. At the end of the day, they're still brothers and they love each other sososososo much. But they've made so many mistakes that hurt one another and themselves. It's so sad don't do this to meeee (jk, I LOVE ITTTTT)

and...the cuddles...the cuddles...THE CUDDLES!!

soff bunny's cuddling??? BIG BNUUY TUCK LIL BNUUY TO BEDD????? They're adorable pleaseeeee spareee meeeee aaaahhhhhh. I know for a FACT it HAD to have hurt Yusuke that he doesn't remember him...like, not even ONE bit??? after all the cuddles and games of peek-a-boo? not a single memory? that definitely stung. unsurprising considering Yuki's age at the time, but still hard to think about for sure.

and martial arts bunny's??? guys...they're so strong ya'll, DON'T mess with them!!! Don't let the fluff deceive you, they're not cute pet store bunny's!!

Not sure if it's the sharp lining style or Yuki's muscles, but i'm choosing to believe Yuki has fat biceps, yeah he's super strong ya'll.

also, Ken getting his ass handed to him buy an 18 year old?? get humbled old-young man

anyway's back into the abyss I go, lots of love and kisses to You and Rhin!!! (Also Rhin if you're reading this, the new UTSLH update was so delicious i'm foaming from the mouth!!!! expect a comment sometime soon, love youuu 🫶)

- 😎

OH YEEAHH AND YOU'RE BACK TOO!!! WELCOME!!!

I really REALLY needed to try my hand at doing wet fur, the images wouldn't leave my brain jhdfjg "He looks like he'd make a wet splat sound if he was slapped on a wall" YESSS OH THAT WAS THE EXACT GOAL, GOOD. I will say these are mostly inspired by yet-to-be-released Sword Lifted chapters sooo... spoilers without context? But here, enjoy our delightful Wet Yuki commentary:

AWH MAN I've been drawing Tetsu A LOT lately (and I will dO IT AGAIN) but I realized I hadn't really drawn that many sibling moments between him and Yusuke, so there's THE COMFOOORT! My thought with that one was them comforting each other about having lost Keiko. Tetsuya is not one to cry often at all, but Keiko was his whole world for twenty-five years of his life. That kind of pain doesn't go away so easily... It's so good that they both can have someone to grieve with now, though. They don't have to go through this alone!!

Oh it definitely stung Yusuke that his nephew doesn't remember him, and it's really weird on Yuki's part too! Rhin and I keep going back to discussing Yuki's characterization in Sword Lifted just because the situation on his part is so strange it's impossible to "react accordingly". This guy you don't remember and whom nobody told you about was almost like an older brother to you and played with you and cradled you to sleep as a baby, how wild is that??? But listen, I do know if anyone was going to look at this situation in the most practical, polite and straightforward way, it would be Yuki.

THEY'RE BATTLE BNNUYYYS you know, for being a samurai-inspired AU on an action shonen show's setting, I sure don't draw as much actual samurai-ing as I should djfgjdf I NEED TO REMEDY THAT, I'm really itching to do some big dramatic illustrations, but my to-draw list just keeps getting larger and larger with bunny stuff..... awh lord save me.

Oh Yuki is definitely all steel under that fur for sure for sure. I feel like I tend to draw characters scrawnier than they'd realistically be, but it's kind of my brain unconsciously going LITTLE BOY djfdgf to be honest Yusuke, Ken and Mari are the ones I'm generally more conscious about, when it comes to body types? Just because Rhin made a really good point of them being Big Guy, Tall Slim Guy and Hourglass Woman and I'm so weak about SHAPES. But also as I keep improving with my anatomy I try to be more aware of what the body types of my OCs are, and how to show that with time too.

AND RHIN SAYS HI BACK!!!

It's always a delight to have you buddy 💕 Stay tuned for more rabbits!!!

[bloodsbad]

⊹₊⟡⋆ [ JENNA ORTEGA ] + [ SHE / HER ] ⊹₊⟡⋆ blasting [ just my imagination by the cranberries ] through their airpods is [ REGINA AGUILAR ] . oh , you don’t know them ? they’re the [ twenty - one ] year old [ PODCASTER ] who just went viral for [ cheering in the stands of rumored partner's football game , wearing a shirt with their name on the back. ] . yup , the one that ubers everywhere because she hates driving . i hear they’re pretty [ +ambitious] , but others have claimed that they’re quite [ -impertinent ] . that makes sense , considering they’re often labeled as [ the blood knight ] .

ꨄ 𝅄 ❛ regarding ; ꒰ basics ꒱

name : regina aguilar

age : twenty one.

gender : cis woman

pronouns : she / her

height : five feet, one inch.

tattoos : none.

piercings : ears.

sexuality : bisexual , biromantic.

relationship status : single.

faceclaim : jenna ortega.

ꨄ 𝅄 ❛ regarding ; ꒰ history ꒱

birthday : october 28th.

zodiac sign : scorpio.

place of birth : boston, massachusetts

parents : diego aguilar ( father ) & vivian aguilar ( mother )

siblings : two older brothers & one older sister.

criminal record : none.

ꨄ 𝅄 ❛ regarding ; ꒰ deeper dive ꒱

temperament : choleric.

alignment : true neutral.

personality traits : positive ; disciplined, meticulous & pragmatic. negative ; avaricious, dissident & facetious.

aesthetics : dark red lipstick paired with leather jackets , dainty rings often worn on her ring and index fingers , a necklace gifted to her by her father that she never takes off , collections of neon signs that sit in her gaming room .

mannerisms : walking around with airpods constantly while adding commentary / podcast ideas to her notes .

educational background : graduated high school with high honors , dropped out of college when her podcasting career took off.

notable skills / talents : tba.

phobias : claustrophobia , clowns & insects.

pet peeves : people who stop in the middle of aisles in grocery stores.

hobbies : podcasting , researching stories to share with her audience.

dreams / desires : to interview the most interesting people possible.

ꨄ 𝅄 ❛ regarding ; ꒰ backstory / tidbits ꒱

as the youngest in the aguilar family , she was easily the most spoiled . of course , it also meant she was the one who had the most restrictions . while she loved being spoiled , she envied the freedom of her siblings often .

fell in love with the idea of podcasting through reddit readings & true crime youtube videos . she quickly gave it a hand , and managed to take off much more easily than anticipated .

she's still close with her family , even if she's since moved out of the family home and gotten her own place .

so far , fame hasn't really changed her much . she's still essentially the same person she's always been , just a lot more wealthy .

regina's always had a bit of a thrill for danger , and is known to be reckless . she believes in living life to the fullest and won't let anyone or anything stop her .

[aclosetfan]

hug 34 for reds pls :)

I'm forcing myself to write and clear out my old asks from previous prompt games. Sorry, anon, this took almost 4 years to write. I was a different person back then. Hopefully, you're still around, but if you're not, I'm pouring one out for you.

PROMPT 34: Hug to prevent a fight

tw: implied physical child abuse/adult abuse.

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

Blossom didn't have the words to describe her counterpart, Brick. But at fifteen, she could see the cracks starting to chisel away at his languid facade. He was only (physically) fourteen, a year, give or take, younger than her and too young for the permanent wrinkle on his forehead or the frown lines around his mouth, but he played it off well.

At twenty (his nineteen), Blossom realized it was probably too late for him. In the five years that the needling feeling in the pit of her stomach had developed, Brick had become much more than the son of HIM and Mojo Jojo. Rather, he commanded an authority of his own, often trumping his parental figures whenever the opportunity presented itself. He and his brothers would make a great heir to whatever throne was left to them when HIM moved on from Townsville and Mojo passed away.

Blossom didn't think either was a possibility. HIM would plague this city forever, and Mojo would always be a thorn in her family's backside. But maybe that was just a fool's dream because she didn't want Brick and his brothers to be the heir to any throne. That scared her more than HIM did on the entity's worst days.

It was the slow stretch of Brick's smile when she thwarted one of his plans. The calculating look swirling in his eyes, like losing had been his goal all along. He didn't laugh anymore like when they were children, but she could still hear the acrid sound echoing in her head. Taunting her. Goading her on. The older they got, the more often she felt she was only ever catching up to him, learning what he had always known—whatever that was—a minute too late.

Brick was her thematic foil. He would be her bitter end.

"It's not that you're not clever enough," Bubbles assured her one evening as Blossom bandaged her broken hands. "It's because he's scared."

Blossom furrowed her brows together in thought, pursing her lips like Bubble's words were sour candies. Blossom didn't bother asking Bubbles how she knew what she was thinking. It was Bubbles; she could read her and Buttercup to filth.

"I don't think he's scared, " Blossom replied because she couldn't imagine, let alone believe, that something in this world frightened Brick.

"Not of you, but of HIM." Bubbles pushed back, leaning against the door frame.

Blossom shook her head, "He's not scared of HIM. He's better than HIM."

"You know that. I know that. Brick doesn't know that."

Blossom looked up from her hands, "Even if that's true, what does it matter?"

Bubbles walked into the room and took the bandages from her hands. She wrapped them around Blossom's bruised and bloodied knuckles with almost the same careful precision as Buttercup, who was usually in charge of the Powerpuff recovery department, so to speak. Buttercup, though, lay indisposed on a cot in the lab, recovering from an almost catastrophic injury. Butch had been the executor, but Brick had called the shots.

That didn't make Brick the most important, though. Maybe, she should have been focusing her efforts on Butch and Boomer. Maybe she should have been figuring out how to ostracize them from him. If the three men were anything like her and her sisters, Butch and Boomer were his body and spirit. If she disposed of them, it'd be like cutting off Brick's arms, but he'd be ready for that. Likely, he'd be expecting her to do that. After all, that's what he did to her.

"It matters because you know what he's afraid of. You can help him."

Physically, Blossom tried not to react. Bubbles advocated for rehabilitation at least three times a year. Blossom vehemently opposed it. Surprisingly, Buttercup had little to say about it.

("Yeah, sure, we don't have a good record of success," Buttercup would point out, shrugging, "but, I dunno, Bloss, I don't like just giving up. I get it, though. The boys, they're not low-level crooks."

"They hate us. He loves hurting you."

"Butch?" Buttercup would shrug again, "Sure, but I mean, he's just doing what he's told. We all are."

Blossom wouldn't tell her she meant Brick, not Butch. It's not that Buttercup was incorrect, but Blossom swore Brick would single Buttercup out to torture her. Yes, it was selfish and paranoid, but she didn't want to see her sisters hurt any more than she had to. And he knew that.)

"He ripped off her leg," Blossom hissed.

"It's regrowing as we speak."

"Bubbles." Blossom stood up suddenly, ripping her hands from Bubbles'. "I don't want to discuss this with you again."

"I think you could reach him," Bubbles continued, speaking regardless, "he's always respected you. And if you save him, we can save his brothers, too. They don't have to keep fighting alone. It's unfair, Blossom. We protect everyone in this city from HIM except the three people who truly need it."

"They could beat HIM on their own."

"They don't know that." Bubbles frowned, "We do."

(But maybe Bubbles was right. It wasn't Brick who singled out Buttercup to specifically hurt her. They were all just doing as they were told, including her and her sisters, just like Buttercup had said. Playing right into HIM's trap. She knew HIM's power grew unchecked the more focused they were on each other. If they were focused on the boys, how could they be concerned about HIM?

It wasn't the first time Blossom had mulled this over. A group effort could feasibly bring HIM down for good. Sure, there would still be Mojo, and Princess, and Sedusa, but—

—but Bubbles was wrong; Blossom had never been able to reach Brick on any meaningful level.)

"Don't be naive, Bubbles."

"I am not naive. I am kind." Bubbles shot back without missing a beat, "You are too."

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

Brick and his brothers stood before her and her sisters. Buttercup's leg had regenerated entirely in two days, and now, the team was back in action. Logically, Blossom knew Buttercup was fine. Buttercup had said so, tone of voice pitching upward in annoyance at Blossom's persistent questioning, but Blossom still watched her out of the corner of her eye.

Buttercup stared at Butch, sizing him up as she was prone to do before a fight. She wanted payback for her leg, so Blossom was surprised when her face twitched in sympathy.

Her gaze darted to Butch, and she regretted it instantly. Blossom didn't stare at the young men, not even Brick, not really. She had stopped doing that a long time ago. She didn't like to think of the reason why, but there Butch was, tall, large, and intimidating with bags under his eyes, so pronounced Blossom echoed Buttercup's slight wince. He was complete muscle but shrunk in on himself like he was attempting to cower away—make himself small. His head bowed slightly in deference, like a street dog begging for scraps.

Boomer stood to the right of Brick, and he looked no better. He was pale. His hair had lost its golden shimmer. His smile—once handsome—was a shadow of its former self.

She felt the weight of Bubbles' stare, set her jaw, squared her shoulders, and turned to Brick. He was talking, outlining their demands, but she couldn't hear him. It was a pointless effort.

A bruise circled his neck like a pearl necklace—the imprint of a claw. His skin was taut, his cheeks sunken and hollow. His wrist bones and clavicle, peeking out from the collar of his shirt, were pronounced.

She did not see the mastermind adult she had been hoping for, but the beaten, broken boy she had been hiding from.

Broken. Beaten. All three of them.

Three people who needed saving.

She was a hero, wasn't she?

(But it was a trap, wasn't it? All these years? They were building up for this to make her and her sisters the fools for even daring to feel sympathy?

Why, though, Blossom? What is there to gain? The Bubbles inside her head asked.

Blossom shook her away. She would not be made the fool, not by Brick. She would not give in to those cartoonish tropes. A heroine who, at her core, is still sympathetic and womanly, who trusts the first pair of sad eyes she meets. Who is naive and—

You are not naive. Bubbles said. Blossom, you are kind.)

She stopped and stared and let her doubts fall away. The wrinkle marring his forehead was anxiety, and the frown lines were unhappiness. His posture was fear.

Brick no longer laughed.

And all six of them were being used.

"Wait, I—" she started, interrupting Brick, but she had no idea how to end that sentence.

He glared suspiciously at her because she wasn't one to speak out of turn. She played the game. She followed the rules. But not anymore.

Taking a page from Buttercup's book, she was in front of Brick before she could think twice about it. He blinked, surprised, and flinched away when she raised a hand towards his neck. His brothers edged in, but she ignored their exclamations.

"Brick," she breathed, letting her hand hover there momentarily. "I am so sorry. I am so sorry it's come to this."

Boldly, she placed her hands on his shoulders, pulled him into her, and held him there.

At first, he didn't react. He just let himself be held. She tried her best to be like Bubbles, who gave the best hugs, despite knowing hers paled in comparison. She could feel the beating of his heart, fluttery, like a hummingbird, as his arms finally circled around her waist and his head dropped into the crook of her neck.

"I'm so tired, Bloss." He whispered, voice cracking.

"I know." She rubbed small circles on his back, marveling at the boniness of his spine. It made her sick. "I know."

"We'll protect you."

[luvaera]

hi friends ( yes, if you’re reading this, we are friends now ) !! i’m nervous yet suuuuuper excited to be here ! it’s been so long since i’ve been here on tumblr, so do forgive me for any mistakes. oh — i’m ree ( she/they ), by the way !! beating life levels 21 ‘n up & find me casually swimming over here in the east coast ( i would drown, i can’t swim … but it’s raining as i’m typing this so i had to ).

below the cut are some quick tidbits about my pretty, in her own right, it girl sour patch kid — chloé !! ♡

quick links: dossier & kprofile & plots & pinterest ! ( everything is a wip, you'll know more about her below the cut, really )

⸺ welcome to infinite entertainment ! it's KIM AERA ( CHLOÉ ), who is the MAIN DANCER of BRAVEHEART. i’ve heard whispers that the TWENTY-FIVE year old is pretty ECCENTRIC but lowkey UNPREDICTABLE. also, doesn’t she remind you of HUH YUNJIN ?

people either love or hate her — there often isn’t an in-between. well, unless they’re the few who are so envious that they want to be her. aera assumes that comes with being a popular idol, right ?

originally born with a silver spoon in gangnam, south korea ( cheongdam-dong district, to be exact ) to a family of old money chaebols. the middle child.

with parents that were too focused on themselves and their careers ( mother climbing the ladder in the entertainment world and later becoming a cj enm director and shareholder && father becoming the executive director of asan medical center / hospital ), aera was pawned off, akin to the same fashion as her older brother, at the age of two to be raised by her dotty, outgoing uncle in manhattan.

a child that struggled with healthily expressing her emotions, yet had an abundance of energy — so, after multiple failed methods, aera was put into dance lessons. that was how aera learned to release her emotions instead of letting them accumulate. by now, she has learned to use her words. there are times when she struggles !

found her place with contemporary and hip-hop dance. became inspired by popular pop artists such as britney spears, lady gaga, and beyoncé ( to name a few ), as well as early kpop idols such as lee hyori and boa. it was boa that inspired her the most to pursue wanting to be more than a dancer in a dance group after school.

moving back to korea years later felt jarring, but with the "support" of her parents ( enrolling her in more dance lessons, along with vocal lessons ) when they felt settled enough to parent their children, aera once again found her footing.

it is rumored that her parents sponsored her to eventually debut in braveheart, taking the spot of another deserving trainee. neither she nor the label has ever addressed the circulating rumor, causing netizens to form their own opinions.

known for giving people whiplash with her personality and behavior. one minute she's lively, bubbly, full of herself and the next she's speaking without a filter, being rebellious, or randomly getting up to something she shouldn’t be doing. a sour candy.

silently struggles with the insecurity that she doesn't live up to the same level as the other members, but fake it until you make it ... right ?

will say that she's definitely got an ego that started in her high school years and escalated as fame hit the group. which can have her unintentionally coming off as pretentious.

really wants to get a pet of her own, but settles for the tamagotchi on her phone, that she proudly talks about in lives.

doesn’t mind going by aera or chloé !! whichever the person prefers.

a big reader ! leans towards romance, fantasy, thriller, occasional horror. loves webtoons and manga, but doesn't read them as frequently like her books. always has her ipad with her for reading ( and occasional games ).

a fan of anime and movies. enjoys her fair share of dramas too. sometimes has her wanting to try a hand at acting.

if she can't sleep, aera is probably in the practice room learning choreography for other idols or making up her own.

has a soft spot for memories. never far without her camera to capture the moment. or using her phone. shares some moments on her second instagram account.

random aesthetics: late night adventures, early mornings. imposter syndrome. luxury brands. unread text messages. a spring baby with a winter loving heart. vibey facetime calls, phone calls that are hours long. black lace, freshly manicured nails. leaving before the other wakes up. leaving little notes around to make others smile. never taking no for an answer. highlighted passages in a book. dreaming of something bigger and making it happen. the smell of dark cherries, vanilla, and roses. headphones always over ears with music or podcasts playing. sipping lattes. bringing a camera everywhere you go. talking too much, yet not enough. faint strums of a guitar. the wrong key pressed on a piano out of frustration. shoes squeaking against hardwood flooring, mirrored reflection looking back. a sweet disaster. going missing when you take your eyes off her. penned lyrics but never shown. words from privileged lipgloss coated lips. sentimental photo albums. tear stained pillows. might be a sinner might be a saint.

possible connections: best friends. rivals / someone she has beef with. frienemies. ride or die. exes. secret friends. secret lovers / fwb / situationship. platonic soulmate. squad / friend group. summer romance. childhood friends. former best friends. dance partner. role model. drinking or late night adventure buddies. mutual crushes. on and off again something. you know what ? just give me anything and everything ! i want it all !!

[kjmsupremacist]

something sweet, a peach tree (mark/jaehyun)

Mark begins the summer after his junior year with an unpaid internship and no other plans. But when he agrees to go pick his baby niece up from her music lessons, her teacher, Jeong Jaehyun, catches his eye. Too bad he’s off limits, and not just because Mark’s niece is involved. Jaehyun is 41 to Mark’s 20.

To sate his curiosity about older men, Mark decides to look into becoming a sugar baby. He could use the money, after all. And he seems to find a willing patron right away. But for the first time in Mark’s like, he finds he might be in over his head.

Chapter 6   |  prev   next   mlist

Characters: Mark, Jaehyun, other members of nct throughout

Genre: romance, angst, smut, age gap, sugar daddy!au

Pairing: Mark/Jaehyun

Warnings: AGE GAP (older jaehyun, younger mark), alcohol and vomit mentions

Rating: Explicit/Mature we're toeing the line here

Length: 6.4k

July passes quickly and without consequence. Mark’s life is pretty much the same—weekdays spent in the office, weekends with Jaehyun. His birthday falls on a Friday, so he’s going to James and Annie’s for dinner, and then out for drinks with Johnny and Yuta and Ten. Jaehyun was the first out of everybody he knows to wish him a happy birthday, the text coming in right at midnight. Mark is trying not to think about it, because it’s making him kind of giddy, and he doesn’t want to have to explain himself.

James picks him up from work, AC blasting in his Prius. “Mom made me promise we’d call,” he warns as he pulls out into traffic. “So I’m gonna get us together for that as soon as we get home, before Lucy gets too tired.”

“Sounds good,” Mark says, amused. 

“Speaking of Lucy,” James continues, “I was hoping to take Annie on a little vacation next weekend. Just one night, we’d leave Saturday morning and be back Sunday afternoon. Think you could watch her for us?”

“If you pay for our food,” Mark agrees. “And pick me up and drop me off.”

“Fair enough,” James says, shaking his head. “You’re hired.”

Mark laments the lost time with Jaehyun in his head, but he can’t really put his heart in it. It’ll be fun to hang out with Lucy, and she goes to bed early so he can stay up playing video games or something. Besides, Mark likes Annie, so he has to help his brother do something nice for her. 

Deals struck, they spend the rest of the car ride chatting about Mark’s birthday plans. Johnny said he had an itinerary for them but wouldn’t tell Mark what it was, and Yuta and Ten both seemed pretty excited, so Mark’s a little nervous.

“I’m kind of scared they’re taking me to some crazy strip club or something,” Mark says. 

“If they are, don’t call me to come pick you up because I’m just gonna laugh my ass off,” James says, grinning, as he pulls into his driveway.

Lucy is at the door with her mother, telling Mark happy birthday as soon as she lays eyes on him. “Eomma said you’re—twenty-one,” she says. “You’re way bigger than me.”

“I think that’s the nicest way to be called old,” James says with a laugh. “Believe it or not, Luce, you’re gonna be twenty-one someday, too!”

Mark takes her hand. “I’d rather be three than twenty-one,” he says. “Three’s a good age.”

“Three’s the best age,” Lucy agrees firmly. “‘Til I’m four, and then four’s the best, and then five…” 

Annie brings dinner to the table while James tries to figure out where he wants to put his iPad for the call. Finally, he settles on leaning it up against the napkin holder on the far side of the table and calls their parents.

“Happy birthday!” his parents burst out in unison as soon as the FaceTime connects. 

“Thank you,” Mark says with a grin.

They chatter about his life, how work’s going, if he’s ready for school in the fall. His dad tells him they’ve sent him a little care package that should arrive in a couple days.

“What are your plans for tonight, Mark?” his mother asks. “Oh, do you have someone special to take you on a date?”

“No, I’m just going out with some friends,” Mark says over Lucy’s giggling. 

“Aw, that’s good, but I hope you can find someone soon!” his mom presses. “James and Annie were already together at your age. Our Mark is so smart and handsome, I’m sure plenty of boys are interested!”

“Ugh, Eomma, I’m busy with school, I’m not like James. He had himself figured out.” Mark makes a face at James across the table, trying to ignore the strange stinging in his chest. “I can barely manage myself, how am I supposed to manage somebody else?”

“But you’re all alone,” his mother protests. “We worry about you!”

Mark knows she means well, and normally this kind of questioning honestly wouldn’t bother him. He’s fine not having a partner. Except… he thinks of Jaehyun. It’s not exactly true now, that he’s alone. And Jaehyun is going to be the reason he’ll remain publicly single for the foreseeable future, at least. But he’s not the same as a real boyfriend. He never will be. Because even if Mark and Jaehyun could work something out, how on earth would he tell his parents? They’d never accept it. Would they? “I have my friends,” Mark says instead, but it sounds a little flat to his own ears. “I’m fine, really.”

“Mark’s independent,” his father chimes in, saving him. “He’ll settle down when he’s ready.”

They exchange a few more pleasantries, the parents asking after Lucy. Mark lets her steal the spotlight, mind darkening with thoughts of the future and not quite able to focus on the bright conversation at hand. He does tune back in to finally say goodbye with a promise to call soon, and they’re left to dig into their cooling dinner.

Once they eat, Mark helps James clear the table while Annie runs to “get a surprise” from upstairs. James pulls Mark’s cake out of the fridge, along with numbered candles, a two and a one. The cake is a red velvet from Mark’s favorite bakery with pale blue frosting—James said he realized only after it was going to look like the American flag, but that he was more focused on getting a flavor Mark liked and his favorite color.

“It’s fine, man,” Mark says, grinning. “Thank you anyway.”

“Here, open this first,” Annie says. “Your friends will be here any minute, and I think they’ll want to participate in singing Happy Birthday.”

“This” turns out to be a very pretty hardcover anthology of Edgar Allen Poe’s poetry and short stories. Mark flips through it, genuinely touched. “Thank you,” he says, looking up at them. “This is going in a place of honor on my bookshelf. Can I leave it here tonight?”

“Of course,” Annie says, laughing, accepting it back. 

“We were originally looking at some nice first-edition books,” James says. “You know, like those rare ones. But they require special care and storage, which I don’t think you have access to quite yet.”

“Yeah, I appreciate the thought but I’m glad you didn’t,” Mark says fervently. “I think the responsibility would’ve given me a heart attack.”

Just then the doorbell rings, and when Mark answers it, Johnny, Yuta, and Ten are waiting. “Just in time for cake,” he says with a grin, leading them inside.

The candles are still lying haphazardly on the table next to the cake. “You’re turning twelve?” Johnny asks sarcastically.

 “Dude,” Mark says, rolling his eyes over Yuta’s shoulder as he’s squeezed into a hug.

James puts the candles on the cake (in the correct order) and then lights them while Annie flicks off the lights. They all sing Happy Birthday, with Ten egging Lucy into doing some silly additions at the end, and then Mark blows out the candles and the lights come back on so they can slice out the cake.

“So where are you guys off to tonight?” Annie asks.

“Top secret,” Johnny replies. “But we promise we’ll get him home safe.”

Mark kinda feels like a little kid all of a sudden. He forgets sometimes that Johnny and Yuta and Ten are all around James’ and Annie’s age despite the fact that they’re Mark’s friends. He takes a bite of cake. He thinks maybe he’s always going to be in a hurry to grow up.

The cake is eaten, and Lucy’s getting tired, and the bus is coming soon anyway, so they head out without too much more fanfare. The sun is working on setting, so the air is cooling but still hot. Yuta slings an arm over Mark’s shoulders as they make their way down the sidewalk. “Ready for your big night?”

“I’m getting more and more terrified by the minute,” Mark replies, which makes the other three laugh. 

“We’re just taking you out to our favorite bars,” Johnny reassures him, though his grin still seems a little too wild. “We’ve just never really seen you out and about! It’s different from those little college parties we go to.”

“I’ve been out drinking before,” Mark grumbles, but he knows going to the bar for a drink with James on his nineteenth birthday in Vancouver is not the same as going out clubbing here, now.

“You have your passport, right?” Ten asks.

“Yep,” Mark says, patting his pocket. “Which I’m sure isn’t going to score me any points.”

“Maybe it’ll make you look exotic,” Johnny says.

“Or just like a fuckin’ loser,” Mark grumbles. “You all have your licenses.”

“Well, you can fix that anytime, honey,” Ten points out, and Mark just gives a groan of defeat.

They pile onto the bus, collapsing into the four-across sideways seats that are elevated over the center of the first section, Mark on one end with Johnny next to him. While those two chat, Johnny ducks his head and asks, real quiet, “How are things with the DILF?”

Mark jabs him with his elbow; Johnny doesn’t react. “They’re fine,” he hisses. “He hasn’t tried to murder me yet.”

Johnny wiggles his eyebrows. “You seeing him this weekend?”

“I told him maybe tomorrow, if I don’t feel like shit,” Mark replies. “So don’t try to get me wasted. Now shut up, if those two find out, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Johnny actually listens to him for once, and the rest of the bus ride is peaceful. Ten pulls the stop wire, and they get off on a busy street. Mark doesn’t see their destination at first, but finally zones in on an unassuming bar down the street.

Yuta notices the look on his face. “We’re starting you off easy,” he explains. “Can’t expect you not to bolt if we just threw you right into one of those gay clubs where everyone is naked.”

“We’re going to a gay club where everyone is naked?” Mark asks, looking down at his shorts and t-shirt combo.

“They have a coat check,” Ten says cheerfully. “And I brought something for you.” He points at the fanny pack that Johnny has clipped across his chest.

Mark doesn’t know if he likes the sound of that, especially not if it can fit in there, but he has to admit a small part of him is excited, too. Maybe with a few drinks running through his system, the excitement will win out. 

This bar, though, is busy but not crowded, well-lit enough that Mark can see where he’s going, and casual. They order a round—beer for Johnny, mixed drinks for the rest—and sip on them. Mark looks around the bar, seeing couples, groups of friends, the occasional loner. He wonders if Jaehyun has been to this bar. It’s a little under his general lifestyle now, but when he first came to Seattle, he was poor, and could’ve easily ended up here. The bar definitely looks old enough, far more than that. He’s not sure those sprinklers are up to code.

Mark gives himself a shake. However ominous his friends’ plans seem, he’s here to have fun with them. He can’t do that if he’s letting the ghost of Jaehyun’s younger self haunt him up and down the streets. He takes a long pull of his drink, earning himself a cheer from Ten. 

The next bar they go to is a little more upbeat, but there’s not a dance floor, so Mark guesses their plan is to get him pretty drunk before entering an actual club. That’s fine. He slams back another mixed drink and finishes Johnny’s beer when he decides he doesn’t like that one and goes to get another. By the time they leave their third bar, Mark’s definitely solidly buzzed, whatever padding he had from dinner gone. 

Good timing, too—the next place is a club, and they get carded at the door, pay a cover fee, and get their hands stamped before being allowed in. Ten drags him to the bar, where he is apparently recognized. Over the pounding music, he points at Mark and shouts something about it being his twenty-first birthday. 

In an instant, tequila shots are poured for all of them and a lime wedge is shoved into one of Mark’s hands while a small pile of salt is collecting on the back of his other one. Mark screws his eyes shut, licks up the salt, and takes the shot, chasing it quickly with the lime so he can convince his taste buds that everything is fine. 

“An extra one for the birthday boy,” the bartender says with an easy smile, passing Mark something else, which he balks at.

“Don’t be a baby, it’s a green tea shot, it’s yummy,” Ten goads, and, fuck, Mark’s being offered free drinks, and he’s always been a sucker for peer pressure, so he throws that one back, too. As soon as the glass is back on the counter, Ten is chirping a thank-you to the bartender, saying something about getting Mark laid tonight, and dragging him out to the dance floor.

“Ten, I’m not going home with anybody. Or bringing anybody home,” he shouts as they push through the crowd. 

“Oh-kay,” Ten singsongs, turning when he finds an open spot at pulling Mark close to dance. Johnny and Yuta appear on either side, so Mark is trapped. “But you can at least have a little fun. Dance with someone. Kiss someone! It’s your birthday!”

The only person Mark really wants to be kissing is Jaehyun. Jaehyun. It’s not like they’re exclusive. They’ve never even tried to discuss what they are. Jaehyun’s never made any indication that he’d mind, but… as far as Mark knows, he’s the only person in Jaehyun’s life right now. So it feels a little unfair.

He extricates himself from Ten’s hands. “Promise I’m not running away,” he says when he gets some concerned looks. “I just have to piss.”

He weaves his way out of the crowd and finds the bathroom. It’s dinky and gross, but whatever. He locks himself in a stall in case one of his friends follows him in, and then opens his text thread with Jaehyun.

hey, this is bad timing but I’m out with my friends like I said and I guess I never thought to ask if you’re cool with me like dancing with other guys and stuff? <;<<

I know it’s not like we’re actually dating or whatever but I thought I should ask <;<<

Jaehyun’s response comes pretty quick.

>>> Don’t worry about me baby

>>> It’s your birthday. Have some fun!

Mark chews his lip, looking over the message. Somehow, it’s not what he wanted to hear. He wanted… he wanted Jaehyun to say no. He wanted Jaehyun to say he was his, and no one else’s. But, he reminds himself with a pang in his chest, they don’t belong to each other. 

okay, if you say so! <;<<

I’m not sleeping with anybody else though. Promise. <;<<

He can practically hear Jaehyun’s soft laughter in the next reply.

>>> You don’t have to promise that

>>> But okay :) have a good night and stay safe! call me if you need anything

Thanks <;<<

It makes Mark feel worse, honestly. He pockets his phone and goes to wash his hand so he doesn’t look like a weirdo, and then heads back out to the dance floor to find his friends. What did you expect, dumbass? he berates himself as he excuse me, sorrys his way through the crowd. Of course he doesn’t mind. You’re just fucking. There’s no reason for him to be possessive or emotional about it. So neither should you.

By the time he spots Johnny’s head over the sea of people, he’s resolved to forget all about Jaehyun tonight. Fine, if Jaehyun doesn’t care who he kisses or who he fucks, then Mark won’t turn anyone down tonight. He’ll prove to Jaehyun (and himself) that there are other people out there for him, and that he’s just feeling a little attached because Jaehyun’s the only person he’s fucked in the last year or so. Not because it’s real. 

“Thought you really had run out on us,” Yuta shouts with a grin when Mark joins them. 

“Nah, I just couldn’t figure out the drawstring on these!” Mark shouts back. “My fingers don’t work when I’m drunk!”

Not too long after, some pretty boy comes up and asks Mark to dance with him. Mark accepts, peeling away from his group a little so they can have some privacy. Mark doesn’t catch his name but pretends he hears him after he repeats himself for the second time.

“I saw you guys chatting with the bartender!” The guy shouts. “I’ve never seen you here before.”

“No, it’s my friend that knows him,” Mark replies. “I haven’t been before.”

“Oh? Why not?”

“It’s my twenty-first birthday,” Mark explains.

“Oh,” the guy says with a smile. He leans in closer. “Happy birthday.”

“Thanks,” Mark says, leaning in, too, and kisses him. 

And it’s fine. Good, even. But he’s still thinking of Jaehyun when they pull away, and with that comes a sort of sobering disappointment. Mark tries to brush it aside. One kiss isn’t going to fix you, he thinks. You have to keep going.

“What?” The guy looks a little confused, and Mark realizes he’s kind of just been looking at him.

“Nothing,” Mark says. “D’you wanna go get another drink?”

The night kind of blurs from there. Mark doesn’t black out, per se, but he definitely loses track of time and becomes quite malleable. He lets his friends whisk him on to the next club, and the next, dancing with strangers and making out with a fair number, too. It gets a little better, but nothing sparks in his stomach the way he’s kind of hoping it does.

They reach the club Ten was talking about. He strips to booty shorts and a fucking hot pink bikini top, because of course he does, and shoves a black crop top and matching shorts into Mark’s hands. It’s not atrocious, so Mark changes, since he doesn’t fit in here in his own clothes. Yuta’s literally wearing a jockstrap and a tiny leather vest, which Mark is honestly kind of impressed by. Johnny, on the other hand, simply takes off his shirt to reveal a harness across his chest and back.

“What the fuck?” Mark asks, and Johnny just grins and saunters off to coat check.

The lighting is dark blue-purple and sexy, and everyone is just as naked as Mark and his friends, so he quickly loses his self-consciousness. Besides, Mark knows he’s hot, and this is confirmed by the number of people that put their hands on him in the span of the next half an hour or so, offering to buy him more drinks. He lets himself get lost in it, giving out kisses freely, even guiding the hands lower when he likes the person they’re attached to.

But even through the weird lust-haze and alcohol, Mark still feels kind of empty. Not in a bad, hollow way, necessarily, just a little lonely. This is fun, and these guys are hot. But they’re not Jaehyun. 

Finally, when Mark nearly trips over himself on the way to the bathroom, Johnny calls it a night. He retrieves their clothes and they gather in the bathroom to get changed before figuring out how they’re getting home. 

Mark is a short bus ride away, so Johnny offers to come with him to make sure he makes it home while Ten and Yuta try to figure out Ubers. 

“It wasn’t too much, was it?” Ten asks, slurring a little. “You had fun?”

Mark can honestly say that he did, despite his inner turmoil, so he nods. “Yeah, Tennie,” he says, trying and failing to get Ten’s face to focus. “I had fun.”

Ten gives him a happy kiss on the forehead before they head outside. Yuta takes Mark by the elbow so he doesn’t trip on the stairs, and then they’re out in the cool night air. Johnny and Mark wave goodbye to the other two and hurry down to the nearest bus stop.

“You weren’t lying to Ten?” Johnny asks. “You really had fun?”

“Yeah,” Mark says earnestly, or at least as earnestly he can when he’s not really sure what his own voice sounds like. “I think ‘m the right amount of drunk. Wouldn’t do it every weekend, but I get the appeal.”

Johnny grins, ushering him onto the bus and into a seat. “Think your DILF will mind?”

This sobers Mark somewhat. “I know he doesn’t,” he says.

Johnny blinks, surprised. “You okay?”

“I texted him to ask,” Mark explains. “If he would mind. And he just… told me to have fun.”

“That’s good, right?” Johnny asks, now thoroughly perplexed.

“I guess,” Mark mumbles. “I just—I dunno. Thought maybe he would care more.”

“Don’t tell me you’re catching feelings,” Johnny says.

“No,” Mark refutes quickly, then shakes his head. “I dunno. Maybe.”

“It’s not gonna end well, man.” Johnny’s voice has gentled, and Mark thinks that might break him. “Hey. Look at me.” Mark peeks up miserably. “You, Mark Lee, are young and hot and cool, and you can do way better than some random middle-aged guy. No matter how good of a fuck he is. Or how much money he has. Okay?”

Mark sighs and nods. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Johnny reaches up for the stop wire. “Want me to stay the night? Keep an eye on you?”

Mark shakes his head. “Nah, it’s okay. I’m not that drunk. Mostly just tired. I don’t think I’m even gonna puke.”

“Good.” Johnny leads him outside and walks him down the street to his building, all the way up to the front door. “Then have a good night.” He opens his arms for a hug and Mark accepts. “And happy birthday, man.”

“Not my birthday anymore, it’s like three a.m.,” Mark argues into Johnny’s chest. Johnny laughs.

When Mark gets up to his room, he immediately just strips and heads into the shower to get the layer of everyone else’s sweat off his skin. As the water’s heating, he unlocks his phone and finds it still open to his texts with Jaehyun.

I miss you <;<<

wish it was you tonight instead <;<<

He’ll probably regret it in the morning, but right now he’s too drunk and tired to care. He sets his phone on the counter and steps into the steaming shower. 

When he gets out, a single text is waiting for him.

>>> Go to bed, baby. I’ll see you tomorrow

Mark leaves his phone there, the text unanswered, flicks off the lights, and collapses naked into bed. Despite the spins that threaten to overtake him, he’s asleep within minutes.

///

Mark wakes with a dry mouth, a pounding headache, and the dull but insistent push of nausea in the back of his throat. He rolls out of bed with a groan and shuffled into the bathroom to gag into his toilet. Most of what comes up is burning liquid, and once he’s done, he does feel better, though the headache persists. 

He lets himself rest on the floor by the toilet for a few minutes before getting up to swish with mouthwash, since brushing his teeth is going to require hand-eye coordination that he currently does not possess. He checks his phone, which is cheerily displaying the ungodly time of 7:13 a.m., and doesn’t see any new texts.

Mouth sufficiently washed, Mark slaps around the medicine cabinet for some Advil and takes two of those with a handful of water right out of the tap, then drags himself back to bed. He crawls under the covers and knocks right back out. 

The next time he wakes up, it’s to a significantly weaker headache, no nausea, and full body aches. He lies there, weighing the merits of just dying right here and decomposing, but ultimately decides against it because Chenle’s parents don’t deserve to clean up that kind of mess. He scoots out of bed, uses the bathroom, and checks his phone while he actually brushes his teeth. 

He reads over his texts with Jaehyun last night and groans. Stupid, stupid, stupid, he thinks, rinsing out his mouth and cleaning his toothbrush. He takes a couple more Advil and then decides he should probably get some food in his stomach while he considers what to say. 

sorry about that ^ haha 😅 <;<<

about all of it really <;<<

It takes Jaehyun the time it takes for Mark’s bread to toast to reply. 

>>> All good! How’s the hangover?

>>> Think you could meet me for brunch?

Mark munches on his plain toast, contemplating. 

hangover was worse this morning, I’m better now <;<<

but yeah give me like an hour or two <;<<

>>> Okay, see you at noon!

Mark gets himself a glass of water and then flops down on his couch, taking sips of the water and small, tentative bites of his bread. It settles his stomach even more. Maybe he’ll actually get to enjoy brunch.

After letting his body adjust to being awake for a bit, he finally gets up and gets himself ready. Takes a quick shower to get the vomit-sweat off. Brushes his teeth again. Tries to style his hair. Gets dressed in something he hopes is brunch appropriate. By the time Jaehyun texts to say he’s outside, Mark almost feels like a person again.

“Hey, baby,” Jaehyun says with a sympathetic grin. “How’re you feeling?”

“Like I got run over by a semi and also poisoned,” Mark replies, dropping into the passenger seat. “Mostly fine, though.”

Jaehyun laughs. “Good twenty-first?”

“Could say that,” Mark replies, thinking of all the boys he kissed. He wants to tell Jaehyun about it. He wants to say I met so many people last night and they were all great but they weren’t you. He wants to say why didn’t you care who I was kissing? Why don’t I matter to you? He wants to say is it allowed that I let you matter to me? “Where are we going?” he asks instead. 

“One of my favorite brunch spots,” Jaehyun says. “I made a reservation last week, figured it might be around this time. It’s casual but popular.”

Maybe Jaehyun cares more than Mark gives him credit for. He made a reservation last week. Clearly, he’s been thinking about it. “Sounds good,” he says genuinely. 

The restaurant is, in fact, crowded, with a long line of people waiting to put their names down. They’re taken to a small table near the back and left alone. Mark’s not sure he should go for anything partially cooked, or anything overly sweet, so he settles on a small plate of scrambled eggs and bacon with potatoes, and stresses to their server that the eggs be well-cooked. Jaehyun laughs at him over the rim of his water glass.

“I remember my twenty-first birthday,” Jaehyun says, grinning. “I was in much worse shape than you the next day, so good job.”

“What did you do?” Mark asks, intrigued.

“Well, like you, I was from a place where I could legally drink earlier, so it wasn’t my first time having unrestricted access to alcohol,” Jaehyun says. “But unlike you, I suffered delusions of grandeur and thought I could take on that stupid twenty-one bar challenge.”

“Like, go to twenty-one bars and have a drink at each?” Mark asks, wrinkling his nose when Jaehyun nods sheepishly. “I had maybe like seven or eight drinks last night, and I think that was one or two too many. So did you make it to twenty-one?”

“God, no,” Jaehyun says. “I blacked out at like maybe twelve, and my boyfriend at the time later told me I had a few more after that before promptly vomiting them back up onto the sidewalk. At least we were outside.” 

Mark is struck with the sudden and sharp reminder that Jaehyun has lived a whole life before him. He had boyfriends when he was younger, boyfriends he loved. He’s probably had his heart broken more than once. There’s a clawing hunger in Mark’s chest to know more, to know it all, to peel back all of Jaehyun’s layers until he’s seen every last one, to lave over his most secret parts with his own tongue—and there’s fear, too; fear that he might not like what he finds, and worse, fear that he will like it, fear of his own hunger and what it might mean.

“What were you like?” he asks quietly. “When you were my age? Did you go out with your friends like that often?”

Jaehyun laughs, shaking his head. “No, I was always sort of shy and soft-spoken. I liked going out, but only if people I knew were there and only if I could get home quickly.”

Mark can imagine it. Jaehyun’s face, bright and fresh with youth, skin smooth and free of smile lines. The flush of his cheeks. The same silly laugh. He imagines him in the corner of some bar, arms crossed over his chest with a beer in one hand, tucked against his bicep. Watching his friends quietly. He imagines a red-faced and drunk Jaehyun knocking back shots amid cheering. Stumbling out onto the street and vomiting unceremoniously at his own feet. The pinch of his eyebrows. The sweat on his hairline. Mark’s heart feels like it’s been beat flat with a meat tenderizer. He gives Jaehyun an unsteady smile. “I can’t imagine you any other way,” he says.

“So, anyway, obviously the next morning I was in the worst pain I’d ever been in in my life. I spent well into the afternoon alternating between sipping a little water and going to throw it back up again,” Jaehyun continues as their food arrives. “Thank you. At one point, my friends were considering just taking me to the hospital because I was so dehydrated. I told them to wait until the evening, and I’d go if I wasn’t better by then, because I was so embarrassed and I didn’t want my parents to find out I’d been so stupid.” Jaehyun shakes his head ruefully. “Lucky for me, by around three or four, I was able to keep a cup of water down. I swore up and down I’d never drink again, but… you know how that goes.”

Mark nods, popping a potato in his mouth and making a noise of appreciation. As usual, Jaehyun’s found a great spot. “That’s kind of hilarious,” he says. “I’m glad you didn’t die.”

“Yeah, me too,” Jaehyun giggles. “I am proud to say that’s the last time I’ve blacked out from drinking, and one of the last times I ever threw up from drinking, so at least I learned my lesson kind of.”

“That is impressive,” Mark says. “I know logically my limit is about six drinks, but somewhere around drink five I get convinced I can do like five more, and it all just goes downhill from there.”

“Did you blackout last night?” Jaehyun asks curiously.

“I don’t think so,” Mark says, and then remembers his texts to him and cringes. “I am sorry about those texts from like three a.m. I literally remember thinking, like, I’ll probably hate myself in the morning, and then sending them anyway. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

Jaehyun shakes his head, laughing. “No, I was up late doing some work,” he says. “Don’t worry about it. They definitely could’ve been worse. All you said was that you missed me, which is fair. I’m pretty great.”

Mark groans. “Still, it was kind of pathetic of me,” he mumbles, stabbing at the last of his potatoes.

“Well,” Jaehyun says, chasing a blueberry around his plate with his fork. “You’re young. You’re allowed to be a little stupid. It’s okay, really. I think I’m flattered that I’m the one you’re drunk-texting.”

“Who else would it be?” Mark asks without thinking. 

Jaehyun blinks at him. “I don’t know,” he says evenly. “I don’t know what you do when you’re not with me.”

And you don’t care, Mark thinks bitterly, and then mentally smacks himself for being childish. “Please, I don’t have time for anybody else,” he says, keeping his tone light. “My god, I almost forgot. Me and James called our parents last night so they could wish me a happy birthday, and my mom started interrogating me about who I was dating since James and Annie were, like, already engaged at my age. Most unserious conversation I’ve had in a while.”

Jaehyun gives him a weary smile. “I hope I’m not keeping you from people your age,” he says.

Mark waves him off. “I’m telling you what I told my mom. I can barely deal with my own shit. Dealing with someone else is off the table.” Jaehyun gives him a weird look. “You don’t count, I don’t have to deal with you. You take care of me.”

Jaehyun’s expression morphs back into a smile, this one markedly less weary. “I certainly try,” he says. He nods at Mark’s nearly empty plate. “Ready to head out?” 

Mark nods. Jaehyun pays, and they gather their things and pick their way through the maze of tables towards the door. Mark slips into the passenger seat and Jaehyun starts the car. There’s a natural ease to it that, even though Mark’s weird tumultuous feelings, he finds comforting. 

“I think we would’ve gotten along,” Mark says. “If we were the same age and met in college.”

Jaehyun turns to smile at him, like really smile, dimples popping handsomely. “I think so, too,” he agrees. 

When they get home, shoes kicked off at the entrance and dogs tended to, Jaehyun turns to Mark. “How are you feeling?” he asks. “Wanna nap?”

Mark gives him a look. “If you’re asking if I’m feeling well enough to fuck you, I think you know the answer.”

Jaehyun laughs and kisses him. Mark melts under his touch. It feels perfect. Everything feels so perfect. He doesn’t know exactly what it is except that it’s Jaehyun. He wraps his arms around Jaehyun’s waist and kisses him, their teeth knocking in his eagerness. 

“You okay?” Jaehyun whispers when they separate.

“Just,” Mark says, but doesn’t know how to continue. How’s he supposed to explain without revealing himself? When it’s clear Jaehyun doesn’t, and won’t, feel the same way? “I know those texts last night were, like, cringey and dumb, but I really did miss you.”

“Well, I’m here now,” Jaehyun says. “C’mon.”

They head up to Jaehyun’s room, where the early afternoon sun is lighting up the space. His sheets are white today, and practically blinding. Jaehyun shuts the door behind them and heads over to the window to lower the blinds a little so they don’t get sun directly in their eyes. Mark watches him, that same terrible tenderness still holding onto his heart. All he can do is keep imagining Jaehyun younger, next to a faceless boyfriend, someone who had Jaehyun, really had him, and lost him anyway. There’s some bitter jealousy there, but also a strange kinship. Mark will join the ranks of Jaehyun’s unknowable past lovers, the way Jaehyun will join Mark’s. One day he’ll be a memory, a ghost that Mark’s future partner might never even find out about. He thinks again of a life he’ll have in that future, one that might look something like this. Lazy Saturday afternoon sex, post-brunch, in a sun-warmed bed.

Except this time in his vision, Mark’s potential future partner has a face. It doesn’t happen on purpose. He doesn’t mean to imagine it this way. But in his head, it’s the younger version of Jaehyun, smiling at him with those dimpled cheeks from across the mattress. His is the body waking up beside Mark’s, working beside him, building a life, slow but sure. One pancake at a time. 

Tears sting behind Mark’s eyes before he realizes what’s happening. Because that can never come true. As much as Mark might want it, Jaehyun’s not going to be able to wait around for him to grow up and finally be ready to settle down. By then, Jaehyun might already be well on his way to his fifties. And that’s if Jaehyun even wants him in the first place, which he doesn’t.

“What’s wrong?” Jaehyun’s suddenly in front of him, tilting Mark’s face up and searching his eyes.

“Nothing,” Mark manages, blinking rapidly and willing the tears away. “It’s just super bright in here. Hurts my eyes.”

“I can put the blind down all the way,” Jaehyun says, accepting this easily.

Mark shakes his head, leaning into Jaehyun, hooking his chin over Jaehyun’s shoulder and wrapping his arms around his middle. “No, this is perfect,” he says. 

“Okay,” Jaehyun agrees.

They pull each other’s clothes off slow and gentle, pausing to kiss over the freshly exposed skin before continuing. Jaehyun guides them to his bed, and they settle atop the soft duvet. Mark preps him blindly, not wanting to pull away from his mouth. When he finally fucks him, it’s quiet, sweet, sensual. None of their usual roughness and quick, panting breaths. There’s something different underneath, too. Mark’s put it to the test, and he’s still choosing Jaehyun. And Jaehyun, despite all the warning signs, seems to be letting him. Something blooms in Mark’s chest, but something withers, too. He pets Jaehyun’s baby-soft hair and kisses him and tries not to imagine what his life would be if this was every day. 

But even though he knows it’s impossible, some small part of him insists. Why not Jaehyun? If things were different, couldn’t it be him?

But they’re not different, he reminds himself firmly, swallowing one of Jaehyun’s soft moans when he rolls his hips up just right. This is what you have. This is it. It will have to be enough.

“Where’d you go, baby?” Jaehyun whispers. “You seem far away.”

Mark shakes his head, both to refute Jaehyun’s statement and to clear his mind. “I’m right here,” he insists. And he forces it to be true. He focuses on the feeling of Jaehyun’s skin on his, the unsteady pattern of Jaehyun’s breath, the tightening of Jaehyun around him. The sun on his back, warm and comforting.

He comes first, but he can hardly feel it. 

[splathousefiction]

On Age Gap Discourse

Finding out that there's a whole ageist discourse about fictional characters is wild, because simultaneously the same people screaming "old man Yaoi!" are upset because a 20 year old laughed at a middle aged mans joke.

For the record now and forever:

My characters and their age ranges are usually in the same decade I am, because it's what I know and it's easiest to write/relate to.

Jack The Warlock is 35 and has gray hair.

Jimothy Schwartz is 30 and easily looks in his early 20s.

Jenazebelle is 39 and both The Warlock and Jim jokingly call her a cougar.

Poppet, The Warlock's alter from another dimension, is 55 and has lived a hard life. He looks much older because of it.

Willard the Ghost Butler is over a hundred years old and is a RAGING cocain addict and alcoholic.

In "Old Man LaCroix", a holiday audio I produced last year, Jack Infernalus (named after the Warlock, his nephew and heavily inspired by a cousin I love dearly) is eleven whole years old. They're not the only child that's been featured in my work, as Kudzu (no last name) was only eight years old before he mutated into a giant evergreen forest.

All of these characters have interacted in a more-or-less same setting. Because that's life. You're gonna meet people older/younger and different from you in a lot of ways and sometimes they become your friends, sometimes you both pass each other like ships in the night, never to speak or see each other again. Sometimes you find shared experiences over the span of years in the count of one, five, ten or twenty and you form a bond you never forget.

Every time a "characters can't interact if they're (arbitrary number of years)" comes up, I'm reminded of one of my IRL friends named Charles who I used to play Magic: The Gathering with. I met Charles when I was 22. Charles was 65 years old and a born-and-bred carolina farmer. He'd gotten interested in the card game because of his grandson and would come every single friday to play cards with us. Charles and I hit it off smoking cigarettes together, and of all the people I wanted to see at the tournament friday, Charles was always the first person I spoke to.

We got beer and dinner together many a time. He'd talk about farming and the pending legalization of weed (which he called his "retirement plan") , and I talked about how badly I wanted to be a writer and radio broadcaster. Charles was one of the first people that heavily encouraged me to chase the dream, however unobtainable it seemed at the time.

I miss him dearly. The entire card shop showed up to his funeral, much to the joy of his family who doted that he always talked about "that group of guys he played cards with". If I'd followed the logic that popular discourse seems to preach, I would have been denied the memory of knowing that man and the many other elders, "big brothers/sisters", mentors, and even "cougars and dilfs" I've been fortunate enough to cross paths with. I never would have used those positive experiences to make the characters you all adore.

I'm not denying there's wolves after us out there; but there comes a point with the often hyperbolic, puritanical thinking of popular discourse that harms rather than reduces harm. You cut off your entire arm to save your finger.

Talk to people. Talk to people like you, but more importantly, talk to people radically different from you as often as you can, every single day. Sure, you're not always gonna agree. Sure, things are gonna be fucking awkward sometimes. But through words and speaking with them, you might just realize we're all a lot more alike than you'd ever imagine.

[aekomorebis]

#REAL_WORLD OGAWA CHIYORI ✦ twenty five ✦ social media coordinator

given name chiyori family name ogawa d.o.b. 1998/03/03 (25) pronouns she/her ethnicity japanese sexuality closeted bisexual ?? occupation social media coordinator at an entertainment company; primarily works with two idol groups

height 164 cm hair brown eyes brown face miyawaki sakura distinguishing features both ears pierced, said to have large ears, signature scent is cherry blossoms

personality

positive | empathetic, observant, discreet

neutral | escapist, competitive 

negative |  fickle, headstrong, vindictive

history

born in hakodate and lived their with her family (mom, dad, older brother) until she was thirteen. her parents divorced at that time, and she chose to move to south korea with her mother and older brother.

struggled in school because of the language barrier; her korean was not as strong as she would have liked it to be, and she still struggles to consider herself fluent. her accent is nowhere near as pronounced as it once was, though she's fairly self-conscious over it.

had trouble making friends; spent a lot of her free time finding creative ways to get out of having to study. mostly, that involved hiding out at a pc bang and playing games. at one point, she started skipping classes to spend time protecting her rank in-game. had to be dragged home by her brother. mortifying.

her mother considered sending her to japan to live with her father, something she emphatically did not want, so pulled herself together long enough to graduate from high school and get into university (communications major). muddled through classes for the most part, vacillating between interest and complete disassociation.

discovered synk in her final year and quickly became obsessed. the game was—is—like catnip to her, and it took an intervention by her brother for her to set it aside long enough to finish her degree (but also, you know, she didn't, just was better at hiding it).

graduated, got a job somehow, got a cat, rented a tiny box apartment a lengthy commute away from her office building—the standard early twenties experience.

she's better at juggling a game/life balance than she was as a teenager—she has a job, is financially stable, embraces mild chaos in her everyday life but it's chill. still synk-ing, plays almost daily as a way to unwind after work.

games have always been easier, more comfortable than real life for her. now is no different.

miscellanous

has a persian cat named yuzu. he tolerates her at best. my cat is a rockstar & i'm a manager except, like, it's so real.

survives almost entirely on a diet of coffee, ramen, and energy drinks (when she can’t get her hands on coffee). she does know how to cook, but hates doing it if she's the only person eating.

her brother often stops by her apartment to make sure she's alive doing okay. finds his concern smothering, to be honest, but they're close! it's just how he is!

has been trying to live an active and healthy lifestyle, but she can never keep to a workout routine for more than a week because she’s weak and lazy. best she can manage is the occasional bicycle ride along the han river.

aside from gaming, she enjoys watching anime and photography. in addition to digital photography, she has an old film camera she likes to pull out sometimes for the art + develops her own film.

wanted connections

01 / was practically a cryptid in university in that you almost never saw her outside of classes because she was always at the pc bang... or in her room... but you somehow managed to befriend her anyway. maybe it's a chore to get her to attend any friend gatherings nowadays but she does it for you

02 / neighbors who keeps hearing strange sounds coming from her apartment and feels the need to check in on her to make sure she's not dying. she's really not. maybe just trying to work out or it's her cat being a demon. meet uglies but you become friends out of it

03 / never met each other irl but you've been besties in synk for years!! always enter verses together!! chiyori would die for you!! and after years of begging she's finally agreed to meet up face-to-face offline. surely this is will not go badly??

04 / get along really well in synk but unbeknownst to each other, you are enemies/nemeses irl and have been for years—or maybe one of you is very aware that your in-game bestie is the spawn of satan but you keep it on the dl because you like being friends in game. too bad your in game friend group is meeting up soon haha!! can't hide forever!

05 / you've dated in a bunch of verses mostly because your aes are always drawn together and you might want to take it a step further and date irl but she keeps dodging your attempts to ask in game and irl and it's not because she doesn't like you but dating is like... so much work, you know? why ruin a good thing?

GENERAL / looking for anything—friends, enemies, awkward acquaintances, exes, etc. in general she's like the person who'll drop out of contact for weeks because she's so absorbed in work/gaming. frequent refrain in her group chats is 'wow ur still here? thought u died'. friendships + relationships are hard to maintain... but if she likes you enough she'll try!!! maybe the great tragedy of her life is that she tries but it's never enough. idk hmu w/ anything (๑꧆◡꧆๑)

PERMANENT PLOT CALL / pls like this post if you'd like to plot for the real world verse and i'll pop into your dms to chat!