#also WHY are they rushing this season so bad like CHILL OUT!!!!!

[zukkaoru]

if bones cuts tecchou’s “everyone misunderstands jouno” line i am literally never trusting anyone again

[kithtaehyung]

broken, pt. 1 (3tan) | myg

title: broken (pt. 1) pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) series:masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball | stay | sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call | busted rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , fluff ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: chilling conversations prolong things even further… until everything goes to hell. note: this is only one half of what was supposed to be a whole chapter! broken, pt. 2 will come out after i've had time to make it something i'm proud of. trying to rush everything out didn't do any favors, so hilariously and ironically, broken is broken up into two hahaha. warnings: language, angst, tension, yoongi’s pov is longgg, alcohol consumption, tobacco mentions, bro🥲, yoongi in the studio😩, the studio boys make another appearance👀, …someone else makes their first appearance👀👀, scuffles, tense situations, did i say angst?, water bottles get their own warning, long hair yoongi, basketball yoongi🫠, crying, bro a ha ha, jimin has tats and he’s not afraid to show them, the chains stay on(???), …bad boy yoongi😀👍, honestly he is on another level of warning here don’t perceive me💀, the fluff is fluffing here like what, backstory we’ve been waiting for😗, yoongi on the phone, hand holding :’)), kissing :’)), oh god the kissing❤️‍🩹, there’s just a lot in both parts i'm sorry y'all playlist: broken (lp) drop date: dec 3rd, 2023, 4:00pm est word count: ...19.1k 🚶‍♀️

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Words abandon you.

They stand far from your form, pitying observers of your decaying state in front of the man you’ve been lying to. At once, you feel completely alone, not even Yoongi’s lingering presence helping when those eyes are piercing through time and space. Everything you’ve experienced over the past two years slings across your vision, from the first time you left your house in the pouring rain to get to Yoongi’s, to the car ride back you just took with his kiss still on your lips. 

All of those moments shattering into dust around your heels. 

Your feet make lines in them when you move to close the front door, something leaving your mouth before you can judge if it makes sense, “About what?” 

Zero sense. Absolute zero sense. Which your brother has absolute zero patience for. The drone in his question hits you like a punch to the gut, “Really.” 

“Just out late, is all,” you grumble, trying your best to not acknowledge an atmosphere so tense it’s almost crowded. “Jimin had another party, remember?” 

“Course I do.”

Huh? Wait. Why does he sound so—

“I was there.”

Dread launches up your veins, rocketing right to your heart in the middle of a pulse. He was there? You saw his car when Yoongi pulled up close to the house. He was there? When the fuck did he arrive? Oh, fuck, if he got there early enough… did he see you… and Yoongi…

No. There’s no way. Because one, Yoongi parked far down and around the corner. He made sure not to be close just in case you two could be spotted. 

With a thought you really cannot afford right now, you also assume he stayed that distance just so that he could pin you against his car. Fucking hell, focus! Upping the strength of your resolve to match cardboard, you lamely stall in your hunt for clarification, “You were?” 

“I was.” 

The watch on his wrist glints in its twist. When aggravated veins stare back at you, it’s obvious your brother is on the edge. Because he is deathly calm. “So where’d you go?” 

You blink, not having expelled a single breath since you stepped foot inside. 

Does he not know? Or does he know and he’s just waiting for you to finally spill? With all the hope in the universe, you yearn for it to be the first one. Because you cannot deal with a fallout right now. Not right after what happened with Yoongi. 

It’s just not the right time. 

“Yuri’s,” you blurt, finally kicking into gear and strategizing how you’re gonna finesse this. “She came and got me.” 

Your sibling just stands there, eyes a solid beam before he sighs at clasped wrists. 

Here it comes. He’s gonna ask why you didn’t say anything. Like he always does because for some reason you’re still not a true adult to him and he has to keep tabs on you at all times and you can’t just sneak around with his best friend in peace—

“K.” Your eyes shake once. “Just tell me next time.” 

And just like that, your brother vacates the foyer, dark dress shoes clacking as he retreats back into his room. Leaving you standing in silence. 

All the words around you just as speechless. 

Just like that, you’re gone again.

After watching you leave and wishing you didn’t have to, Yoongi shuts his door to rest ponderous thoughts on worn wood. Eyes closed and a storm on his mind’s horizon.

Just a little longer. He hopes you’ll understand. This is just something he needs. More than anything else. 

Exhausted, he peels himself from the door, meandering through the bog of his living room. Trudge, trudge, trudge to the dining table, skirting fingers along the edge and noting that it feels different than before. 

At least something in his apartment has changed for the better. 

Who would’ve thought that table would witness both an end and a beginning. That it would see the worst and best of him. If it was ever called to stand, there’s no doubt that it could recite all his failures and shortcomings. But he hopes that it would also attest to how much he’s fucking tried. 

As much as Yoongi wants to throw it out, he hasn’t. Because despite being withered to hell, all it needed to recover was the new company of a familiar face. 

And a little bit of summer rain. 

It watches as his thoughts move on, and soaks in the blues and pinks of sunrise as he crosses into the bedroom. At the feel of your lingering presence, Yoongi gnaws on his lip. 

What the fuck does he do now? The moment you leave, he wants nothing more than to have you back in his bed. It’s the one fact that he has come to fully acknowledge. Because there are many times you’ve caught him slipping. But when you’re lost to your dreams? Visibly at peace and safe under his sheets? That’s when he can’t even think straight. 

How your serenity throws him into disarray, Yoongi has no fucking clue.

But he can’t afford these feelings right now. Because how can he want you close while being the reason for this distance? Make it make sense. Don’t be a fucking hypocrite. Tsking, Yoongi once again accepts the consequences, heading to his bathroom before going back the fuck to sleep. 

Lies. Who is he kidding? There’s no way his rest will be the same without you. Especially since he doesn’t know when he’ll get to see you next. 

There is a way to remedy that. To put an end to your time apart. But Yoongi’s been so in his fucking head that it’s chaining him down and pulling taut. No matter how much he struggles, he can’t break free, and it’s driving him to the brink.

But last night? With you? Half moons mar his palms as he stands. Staring. Branding that whole memory into his heart.

After three months of questioning his existence. 

All it took was your soft hums to give him a reason. 

And you won’t ever know how much that meant to him. Not until Yoongi finally decides to tell you. Which will most likely be never. Maybe that’s why this time tears at his chest more than all the others. Maybe that’s why he stood in his doorway longer than usual. Maybe that’s why he can’t quite carry the weight in his chest.

Dumping himself on dark mountains—creations of his and your design—Yoongi buries his face in those valleys. Inhales those aromas like some hit he can live off of for however many days left he needs. 

Desperately grasping for a fading world where only you two exist. Drifting. Dreaming. Disarmed by a vibration on his nightstand.

The fuck.

Who is texting him this early. There are only a few people he has notifications on for wait it’s probably you saying you’re home.

Peeling himself off the sheets with a groan, Yoongi simply shifts his upper body to reach for his phone, squinty-eyed as he checks his screen.

And he doesn’t see your name.

Dumbass: 1 New Message

But your brother’s.

What the hell does he—

Dumbass [07:30]: We need to talk.

…Shit.

Yoongi grips his phone in panic, ice water streaming through his veins and mind set ablaze with potential scenarios.

He’s awake. You went home. And he’s awake. Fuck, did anything happen? Did you say anything? What are the chances this text means he found everything out? 

Shit. 

Does Yoongi answer now? Or does he sleep and pretend that this is just a text and isn’t a problem at all? Think. Your brother may not even be referencing you, or him. Right? It could be something completely different. 

Why can’t he fucking move? 

Every regret Yoongi’s kept at bay floods his brain, crashing into assumptions of your mental state and creating a massive whirlpool of dread. Just answer. Don’t answer. Just answer. Don’t fucking answer. Suddenly, another alert lights his home screen and it’s a call oh fuck—wait… It’s Jungkook? 

Why not. Sure. What’s one more issue. 

Picking up, Yoongi runs hard fingers through his hair as he answers.

“Hey, you coming?”

“Huh?”

“We have that session in thirty.”

The what. The session? Oh, fuck. The session. Yoongi completely forgot they had a recording booked today because they were so hyped last night to get a date for the release party shit. Vacating his bed, Yoongi answers with a low, “Yeah, I’ll be there.” 

“Yeah, don’t be late. It’s those guys from before.” 

Fuck, it’s that one. The dudes that stopped by the studio just as things were wrapping up, shocking everyone when they scheduled some time. Highly successful musicians and performers booking something with a no name studio? Things are rolling in the right direction and coming along fast. 

But as things go. If they don’t take this shit seriously, everything can crash just as quickly.

“Heading out,” Yoongi finally says as he yanks a hoodie from his closet, and a loud vibration against his ear makes him flinch. 

Dumbass [7:40]: Heading over

Fuck!

“You okay?” 

“Shit, yeah.” Yoongi grips soft material before his phone hits his desk with a thump. Hastily dressing, he grunts, “Maybe. Might be like two minutes late.” 

“Nah, come now.” 

He’s heading over? Your brother? If that’s the case, there’s no way he doesn’t know. 

Fuck, relax. Don’t overthink. If anything, there wouldn’t have even been a heads-up. Yoongi figures he’d just find out as soon as he’s thrown against a wall. Or the ground. Or right onto his coffee table that this very guy helped pick out. Shit, he needs to know but he doesn’t wanna find out. 

But nevermind him. Are you okay? Swiping his device, Yoongi quickly types a text before fast-walking out of his room, going on autopilot when he assures into his receiver, “I’ll get there.” 

Yoongi [7:42]: Going to the studio

“On time? You better!”

Goddamn, he’s juggling too much right now. 

As Yoongi breaks into the dining room, he hears a rustling on the line before other voices jut through the speaker. Sounds like Hobi and Joon are already there, and the next thing said further spikes his stress level another peak, 

“We’re already cutting it close with the prep.” 

Fucking hell, the prep. The mics, the tracks, the setup. They forgot to do all of it. Something inside of him starts snarling and almost pounces through the phone, “Fuck, we should’ve been ready already.” 

“Shit, I know.” 

“We can’t keep doing this.” 

“Dude, relax, I get it.” 

“Do you? Cus this is… Fuck.” 

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll get it done but it’s gonna be tight. Hey, where’s the… Damn it, what’s it called?”

Frustrated and rummaging through his pantry, Yoongi knows he sure as hell didn’t think about anything else as soon as he heard you crying on the line. If he had remembered while leaving the studio, he could’ve spared a brain cell to rush everyone back in. “The what.” 

“The… The overhead mic for the drums.” 

Of course, he’d repeat every decision he made last night. Over, and over, and over again. But any of them should’ve remembered this step before leaving, which pisses him off. The studio’s lack of experience is showing and it’s making him nervous. 

And Yoongi still doesn’t know what’s going on with his best friend. 

“We need two overheads for drums,” he corrects while swiping a water bottle from the counter. And he’s about to rattle off where they are when he feels another long buzz. 

Dumbass: Incoming Call 

Of fucking course. 

Mind whirring so hard he can feel steam, Yoongi quickly recalls where the mics are, “They’re somewhere in the back by the amps, but I gotta take this so I’ll see y’all there.” 

“Wait, where are the—”

Nope. Kook’s just gonna have to figure out whatever he’s asking on his own. Switching calls, Yoongi answers while opening his door, hastily putting out the food and water he grabbed from the kitchen. 

“Hey.” Fuck, is his voice shaking? What the hell is he gonna be faced with in the next few seconds? Can he freeze time and rewind and keep last night on repeat? “I’m about to head out.” 

“Don’t leave yet, I’m coming.” 

“No, just”—Yoongi dashes back inside before grabbing his wallet and keys from the bar—“You good? I can’t be late.” 

“Don’t lie. Y’all are done, right?” 

Don’t lie. Yoongi feels like hurling. 

“We got another project,” he huffs as he meets sunrise again, blazing a trail through his corridor and rounding the corner to his car. “A band’s coming in for a session.”

“Shit.”

There’s a pause on the line. And it’s the first bit of silence Yoongi’s had since he got the first bone-chilling text. Is his secret safe? Are you okay? Should he work extra late and run from a problem yet again? He’s very good at that. Running. If there was a medal for distance ran from issues, he’d be on the podium for both gold and silver.

“Okay, fine.” 

Relief is temporary. This could just be him biding his time in order to figure out what to do. Or maybe he truly doesn’t know what’s going on and Yoongi has a bit more uninterrupted time with you. 

Delusion is a great place to stay.

In any case, his friend’s behavior is alarming. What’s he doing up this early? And why is he wanting to swing by so bad if not to slice him into tiny pieces? Nerves slow on the downslope, Yoongi shuts his car door and lends his ear, “But serious, are you okay?”

“I just… Tch. I can’t even say it.”

He lets his friend go through a series of small sounds on the line, pulling out of the lot and hitting the road with tire squeaks. “What’s up,” he finally pushes, looking sideways and remembering the car ride home. 

There was no way Yoongi was gonna say no to you. He didn’t in this universe, and he’d bet his whole life he doesn’t in any other one, either. Not when your wings looked like you hadn’t used them in months.    

Pained, Yoongi hopes you’re completely fine and sleeping. Tucked away in a bed that captured part of his heart, visiting him in your dreams so that some version of him can be at your side. 

“Everything, Yoong.” 

But, as it so starkly turns out, he has to deal with reality. And with the fact that you’re just as far away as you were before last night. Maybe even further out of reach. 

So, so far away. 

“There’s a ton of shit, but. Fuck. Guess we’ll have to wait.”

Right now, deal with the studio prep and get through the session that will probably take awhile. After that, meet up with your brother and hope to god he doesn’t know. “K.”

“Just lemme know when you get back.”

Then, when all of that is done, Yoongi will be alone. Staring into the night and trying his hardest not to give up on himself again. “Yeah, I will.” 

“No running.”

“K.”

When the call ends, Yoongi lets out the harshest breath he’s ever let out in his life. Hoping you went right to sleep without dealing with any of that. 

“How did that sound?” 

Looking into the recording room, Yoongi raises a thumbs up as Hoseok clicks back to the beginning of the track. At their side, Namjoon hits a button on the console before speaking into a microphone, “Y’all wanna come hear it?” 

“We can move on. Wanna get the doubling done.” 

Huh? They’re gonna move onto vocal doubling already? With a few blinks, Yoongi think it’d be better if they—

“Okay!” Jungkook agrees from the couch, cutting out any other thoughts. “If any of you need adjustments, let us know.” 

“Yeah, actually, can one of you come switch this out?” 

Joon throws a suggestion over his shoulder, but Yoongi is already heading for the booth before his name is even mentioned. 

Get everything done smooth. Stay disciplined. Be professional, goddamn it.

Entering the soundproofed room will always make him want to occupy the mic instead. That feeling hasn’t gone away, and there have been countless nights where he’s spent time just sitting in this very space, visualizing what it would be like to work on this side of the glass someday. Deep down, Yoongi knows he could be somebody. But imposter syndrome runs deep. 

Avoiding cables strewn about the room, he offers his hands without a word, taking a guitar from the lead singer and making his leave—

“Hey.” He turns. “You’re good.” 

What? Where the hell did that come from? Did he even hear this guy right or was he just daydreaming again? Yoongi’s so thrown he can only stare with question marks for eyes. 

Amused, the singer simply points to the side of his beaming countenance. “You have an ear.” 

Huh. How the hell can this dude tell? All Yoongi’s done is indicate if a recording take was good or not, and given a few minuscule suggestions to the keyboardist and guitarist—instruments he’s well-versed in. 

Yet again, he’s so in his head that the man outright laughs, “Relax! You can talk to us like normal, you know. None of us care about etiquette shit.” 

“Shit, my bad,” Yoongi finally responds, instrument in his hands proving a little lighter. “Thanks.” 

“Of course.” Swishing long bangs to the side, the performer rests a hand on his hip. “We’re open to anything. We’d just tell you if your opinion sucks.” 

Eyes creasing with his lips, Yoongi puffs out a laugh. 

“Kidding. Only a little.”

Even though these people are world-renowned, they’re the first humble group to run through the studio. Everyone else has been either cocky, standoffish, or super opinionated, which made for unproductive hours.

Yoongi likes this change of pace. His shoulders start to feel composed, less scrunched than they had been since you left his place this morning. Comforted, he looks down at the guitar in his fingers.

Choosing not to say what he wants to. 

Should he? Nah. These guys know what they’re doing. Despite the nice offer to speak up, it’s not his place. Far from it. 

…But what would you tell him to do? What would you be proud of?

Committed to his answer, Yoongi grips the neck and decides without another thought, 

“Do the chorus again.” 

The whole studio stills. But all he’s looking at is the man in front of him, shaking his head when they ask, “Same way?” 

“Uhm. No.” As he hands the guitar back, Yoongi wordlessly checks if he can see the sheet music. When given the go-ahead, he scans the lines before pointing out a passage to note, 

“Mm. Here. Vocals are fine as is, but. Ride the build-up quicker and hit the next chord after a bit longer.” When he stops, he has to fight to ignore the eyes on him. There’s no doubt that his extended time in the recording room is being questioned, and his hand movements probably make him look stupid. “It’ll keep in time but hit harder.” 

Done. He said it. 

And the response that follows puts complete silence to shame. 

Instantly self-conscious, Yoongi swears he can hear Hobi’s pants shift in the control room through two closed doors shit he took it too far. Fuck, if these guys walk out now the studio is done for and he’ll be the only reason why—

“Well, goddamn. Let’s try that then.” 

Huh. They’re gonna take that? 

As he steps away, Yoongi feels slightly awkward doused in attention. Yeah, expressions seem like looks of approval, but they could just be polite. 

The man hums the chorus with Yoongi’s notes in mind, and his eyebrows tick a bit before he addresses the others in the room, “You heard him?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Yeah, we can try that.”

“Why didn’t you think of that, Woosung?”

Yoongi can’t keep his amusement under wraps as the singer laughs, addressing his keyboardist with a grin, “Damn, not even Sammy? Straight to Woosung, huh.”

“Sammy would’ve thought of it.”

Another bout of mirth spreads joy around the recording booth, and Yoongi shares a look with the singer before they both nod. 

“Let’s see how it sounds.” 

“K.”

Proud and adrenaline-filled, he turns to walk back to the door, head so buzzed he doesn’t know what to do. But when Yoongi can’t see into the control room anymore, he misses a stare through the glass.

A stare that lingers on him just a little too long. 

The rest of the session goes smooth, and Yoongi’s relieved that they haven’t asked him for anything else. 

After all. He doesn’t wanna push it, or step on Jungkook’s toes. What happened in the recording room only went down because you would have scolded him for not seizing that moment. And the suggestion he gave was lauded after the next take.

It was the first time since you kissed him goodbye that he felt a healthy pulse in his chest. Despite the chaos of the morning, amid the thoughts and worries penetrating his brain, you reached out and kept him steady in just the right moment. 

Fuck being his good luck charm. You give guardian angels shame and you don’t even know it. 

“Okay, we’ll take ten after this.”

Jungkook holds up an arm while agreeing, “Okay! We’ll save what we got!�� 

Yoongi’s scanning the tracks when he feels hovering over his shoulder, and he already knows it’s the kid without looking. “Sup.”

“Nothing.”

“You sure.”

At this, Jungkook pauses before he sighs. “Yeah, it’s nothing,” he clearly lies. 

But Yoongi will let him figure out whether to run with that or not. He seems a little bothered about something, and it very well could be what happened in the booth. This is work, and they’re both adults. If he wants to talk about something, Yoongi will gladly have that conversation. 

Suddenly, a vibration erupts in his hoodie pocket, and his phone is fished out without him even thinking. 

Hustler: Incoming C—

Shit. You wouldn’t call him at work unless it’s urgent. Which is quickly throwing any possible theories about your brother not knowing out the window. 

But fuck, he can’t answer yet. There’s no way. Not only is he in very close range to someone you don’t wanna speak to right now, but he’d get blasted for being on his phone during a session. Hoping you can wait just two more minutes, Yoongi turns the buzzing off within his hoodie pocket, anxiously waiting for the take to start. 

Hoping to everything that Jungkook didn’t happen to see what was on his screen. 

As soon as everyone looks pleased—three takes and thirty minutes later—Yoongi quickly excuses himself from the control room. His head practically overheats on the way out back, but the gust of morning breeze serves to soothe it some. 

It’s been chilly lately. A bit grey. But whatever the weather has been outside, it’s no match for the atmosphere of his brain. 

Pulling his hood over hair he hasn’t cut in months, Yoongi looks around before ringing you up. Hoping that you’re good and didn’t have to go through a version of his panic earlier. 

Hustler: Outgoing Call 

Straight to voicemail? Shit.

Hustler: Outgoing Call

Fuck, still voicemail. Are you okay? On the phone with someone else? Did your brother actually end up finding out and things are worse than he thought? Clutching his phone, Yoongi glances up while giving it slight shakes, body on alert while deciding what the hell to do now. 

Maybe he can at least text you to ask what the hell happened this morning? Typing. Erasing. Retyping. Retrying. 

Yoongi [9:02]: Got a session today, doll. 

That’s what he had to say? That won’t do you any good, the fuck? Berating himself with a sigh, he takes a few steps while texting a follow-up. 

Yoongi [9:03]: Still going, but are you good?

Staring, it takes him a few seconds to decide if this is enough. If these two messages are gonna suffice to help him figure out what the hell he’s getting into later. 

It’s not. There’s too much he needs to know. 

Hustler: Outgoing Call 

When it doesn’t ring a third time, Yoongi gives up, cursing before turning and raking his hood off in distress.

Only to see Woosung materializing out of nowhere—relaxed, silent, and taking a drag. 

Shit. How much of that did he witness?

“Been there,” the man empathizes, blowing out smoke into crisp morning. After a swell of early traffic fills the alleyway, he continues, “In trouble?”

Great. With a sound of dejection, Yoongi answers to a stack of random boxes, “Might be.” 

“Don’t wanna commit anymore?” 

“I do,” Yoongi blurts without hesitation, looking right into eyes that have seen plenty more than he has. 

And it’s the first time he’s admitted anything out loud. To a stranger miles above him in status, no less. Hands stuffed in his pockets, he clarifies, “It’s just… There’s something I need to do first.” 

Wait a sec. Why the fuck is he talking about this so freely? This isn’t something he does. Privacy is practically his brand. So why is it easy to talk to this guy? It’s him, for fuck’s sake. But what’s done is done. Woosung probably won’t even remember this conversation even happened, or is already annoyed as hell he didn’t get a good read on him. 

To Yoongi’s surprise, his alley companion speaks again after another white wisp. “Mmm… Something you need to do?”

Well. Yoongi walked right into this one. Swallowing and knowing he can’t dip out, he sighs, “Some shit I wanna finish.” The smell of tobacco wafts around him when he looks at dulled skies. “Shit I need to get through.” 

An amused hum floats through empty space. “Been there, too.” 

Yoongi slowly turns to regard his client, watching as Woosung becomes very interested in wet concrete.

What kind of shit has this guy seen? Surely, he could have had some of the same experiences. The slight droop in his confident shoulders tells enough. But would he understand the exact same situation? 

No. At least, Yoongi hopes not. Quite fucking frankly, he hopes no one has had to go through the same shit that he has. 

“Let me know if you ever need help,” Woosung offers, shocking Yoongi to the point of speechlessness. As he drops his cigarette to squash it out, he runs a hand through wild dark locks. “We’ll be around again.” 

Wait. What? Yoongi can only blink. “Serious?”

“Yeah.” The man looks down the outside corridor, watching as people start heading to their jobs through a central courtyard. “Got a good feeling about this place.”

What does he mean by that. What can Woosung possibly mean by that what does he mean they’ll be back? To the studio? To the city? What’s happening. Yoongi simply lets a pause prevail before offering the only response he’s capable of,

“It’s the food next door, huh.”

That laugh has got to be top five in the world. Not as great as yours, but definitely up there in terms of what makes Yoongi feel like things are alright. Not that he’d ever admit that shit to anyone. Ever.

Mercifully, the conversation moves away from risky topics. Instead, there are talks about a tour one is planning for his band’s album, mixed in with mentions of equipment the other is saving up for. Then the rest isn’t about music at all.

Finally, it’s time for them to continue recording, so they know to head back inside. “Don’t wait,” Woosung advises as he turns on his heel. 

And Yoongi can only stare somewhere else. 

“If there’s something you need to get through...” 

Stare, and stare, and stare some more.

“Hit it until it breaks.”

Because he’s already aware. More than anyone.

As Woosung shuts the back door, Yoongi’s gaze finds the crushed cigarette at his side. Another reminder of how things were.

And a reminder that he’s still a fucking coward.

Hours later, Yoongi’s car awaits him in the lot. 

And when he realizes that you still haven’t responded, he shuts his door just a little too hard. 

Whenever his friend comes over for drinks, it’s always the same routine. 

Both of them don’t talk much, instead opting for a quiet greeting before someone dumps themselves on the couch while the other grabs a bottle and cups in the kitchen. As soon as glasses are filled, conversation sparks as a game plays out on tv—or a sportscasting show if nothing interesting is airing. 

But this time? None of it happens that way. Because when Yoongi opens his door, he’s pinned with a shadowed visage he's only seen piercing through others. 

And the whole arctic starts to seep into his bloodstream.

Raising a brow and giving space is his chosen course of action. Best to not disturb a beast if they’re already ready to lunge.

And his friend eyes him as he stalks into the house, scanning around in search of something—living room, dining table, even looking into the open doorway of the bedroom. 

Fuck. Relax. Don’t assume anything until things are on the table. Yoongi has got to pretend like tonight is normal and fine and that he’s obviously and positively not seeing and sleeping with his friend’s little sister. 

And that he most definitely didn’t eat you out where your brother is sitting now motherfucker he needs a drink. Or a smoke. Or both with a plane ticket out of the whole country. 

At least the television is already on. If it wasn’t for that ambiance, Yoongi’s head would be jam packed with every goddamn sound known to man. Including the adorable way you talk in your sleep, and how you strain so beautifully when you come fuck, fuck, fuck! Focus. 

What’s happened has happened. And what’s going to happen will happen. Whether it’s a consequence of his actions, or nothing to do with any of this at all. 

But when faced with everything smushing together at once? Yoongi will probably need to be revived no matter what the outcome. This is the most stressed out he’s been in years. 

Not only that, but his stress is more than obvious. Even now in the kitchen, he’s scanning through his bottles with a finger—an action he’s never done while sober since the choices are always predictable. Holy shit, he needs to pull it together. 

Has he ever been this panicked? Does he appear just as chaotic and disjointed as he feels? This is too new. This is very new and if he doesn’t regain control there’s no telling where this foreign road leads.

But the silence still remains as he turns. And apparently the road hits a dead end at his dining table. Since it’s occupied rather than the living room sofa. 

Sighing, Yoongi ambles to his friend, placing everything down with clinks and ignoring the way his furniture is getting burned through. Both whisky’s are ready. Yoongi’s already holding his. And your brother still hasn’t moved a muscle. Honestly, what the fuck is going on with—

“I went to Jimin’s last night.”

…What. 

Don’t react. He’s staring. Don’t fucking react. Take a drink. A sip. Pick up the goddamn glass. Doing so, Yoongi slowly brings the liquid to his lips, not quite following his own instructions as he asks behind a barrier, “How was it.”

His question is met with a laugh that isn’t funny at all. The kind that drags a finger along the chalkboard of your soul. And the next question directed his way pulverizes Yoongi’s denial,

“Care to share what’s been going on?”

He’s sick. Beyond sick. The room is closing in and closing in too fucking fast. Shit shit shit. There’s no way he saw. No fucking way. He parked down the street he deliberately stopped as far away as possible and you saw your brother’s car in your driveway. Did he get there after you left? And didn’t see you while also not hearing from hi—

“Why her, Yoong? Hmm?”

Fuck! 

Yoongi can’t feel the air in his lungs. Because there isn’t any. Just a barren wasteland of shriveled futures and cracks in the foundation of every relationship he’s had in his whole life. The millisecond before a crash and only his wheels spinning and spinning and spinning—

Your brother shoots out of the chair, making the glass in Yoongi’s palm feel infinitely more solid.

“I mean, fuck! After all the shit we’ve been through? You’re gonna go back to her?”

All the—shit, he can’t even—back to? Back to you? What does he mean by back to you? Does he know about the first ti—

Volcanic, the man interrogating paces beside the dining table. Back and forth, back and forth. A pause. Back and forth.

And Yoongi still feels frozen in time. Is this it? Is this when things come crashing down? Glass suspends in midair all around him; an orchestra trembles beneath his feet, waiting for the moment to rip into his rib cage with swift strokes and a flourish as he’s taken down. 

“Can’t fucking believe you.”

When Yoongi finally chooses to speak, what comes out only feels like a horrible attempt more than anything else, “Listen, it’s my fau—”

“What, you just decided to fuck that bitch again? Couldn’t stay away?”

Oh, fuck that. 

Wood scrapes into flooring as Yoongi vacates his chair, hard feet planted as he gets into the face of his best friend, his confidant, his day one. Only to speak so low only them two can hear, “How bout you use your fucking words already and I’ll tell you.”

“Yeah? Is that what you want?” They are only a breath apart. But no one’s going anywhere now. “Need me to spell it out for that fuckass brain of yours—”

“Say it—”

“Stop fucking your ex, dude!”

Yoongi’s back connects with the chair behind him, palms flinging back to brace himself through a jolt of pain. And his eyes go so wide they stretch at the edges.

…Motherfucker, what?

Your brother is not done in the slightest, but Yoongi can only stare as he’s being berated for something that is one-hundred percent news to him, too. 

“Everyone was happy when you finally left. All of us. Only for you to go and, what, get back with her?”

Nothing makes sense. This isn’t about you? Yoongi’s heart can’t even reset to start beating again. Everything is coming as shock after shock and there’s no way he can keep up at this pace.

His ex? Her? Where the fuck did that come from and why the hell does he of all people think that’s actually true?

“If you’re gonna be with her, you can count me out.” 

No. Never again. That would never, ever happen again. “The fuck are you even saying—”

“I’m not fucking joking, Yoong. If you’re seriously back with her then—”

“Look, I don’t know what the fuck you heard, but I’m not.”

“So everything I heard was a lie?”

“Huh?”

“He told me!”

He—who? Who the fuck would say that? And when how what the fuck and why? Yoongi stares, chest heaving with every inhale and exhale. Because he has a choice to make. Either he trudges into this lie and rubs sludge all over his bones, or he denies it like he wants because it’s not fucking true.

What the actual fuck. It’s already bad enough that someone sent this along the rumor mill. And it’s making him sick thinking about all the implications surrounding it. But it’s even worse that his best friend believes it so easily. He’s coming at him so quick without even asking if it’s true. 

The only silver lining—the singular bright spot in this hellhole—is that he can use it as an out. An out to protect you from wrath and further fury from your older sibling because if you were the rumor? He’d be laid flat on his floor next to a broken dining set.

“You gonna say anything or what?” 

Truthfully, Yoongi feels queasy knowing what he’s gonna do. But it’s for you. You, you, you. And for that, Yoongi will do anything. 

Even if it kills him.

“No, I, umm…” 

“No?” 

Just hurry up and fucking do it. 

Resigned, Yoongi lets the memories flood through. Every moment that’s haunted him from a distance charges forward as he surrenders to the pain of his past. “It’s—” Fuck, he can’t even begin to lie, head thundering, thundering, striking his heart in the rain. “I...” 

His friend halts. Tense before his shoulders fall back to normal. “You what.”

What the fuck does Yoongi do? What can he say when his brain is only firing up to beg him to run? Technically, he doesn’t have to say anything. He really doesn’t. But he can deflect. It’s what he’s best at, after all. He’s been doing it to you and he will do it again.

In the most defeated voice he can muster, Yoongi comes up with something that will placate his friend while still prolonging this horrid fib, “You don’t have to worry about that anymore.” 

“You sure?”

It’s true. More true than anything. “It’s over now.” 

A century passes. Then another. Then another. Every piece of furniture waits in silence as the television seeps back into his ears. 

Then his friend sighs, not looking back as he slumps into the same chair that you always occupy. And Yoongi hopes his sigh of conflicted relief isn’t witnessed. 

Following suit, he rubs his lower back before taking his regular seat again, not giving any shits about waiting to drink. 

His ex? 

As his throat warms, Yoongi starts to harden the more memories keep crashing into each other like jagged waves fuck he really hates how she was brought into this he swears as soon as he figures out who said this he is going to—

“Sorry.” Haze shattered, he lifts his gaze. “I’m so fucking stressed and hearing that last night just…”

“It’s done.” Yoongi reaches for the thick bottle, pouring more into his glencairn. Wanting to talk about literally anything else, he diverts the conversation, “But something else is up with you so say it.”

It works. The man inhales deep, rubbing his face with weary hands. When he rests elbows on wood, he finally talks about other things clouding his mind,

“Work is shit,” he groans downward. “They’re having me travel again.” 

“Domestic?”

“Yeah. But for longer. And I don’t…” Tapering off, he sits back, slowly playing with his glass. As if he doesn’t want to mention the next problem. 

When he finally does, Yoongi wholeheartedly understands the hesitation, “I dunno know what’s going on with my sister.”

Oh. Fuck, how the hell does he respond? Keeping his cool, Yoongi just repeats the question, taking out his phone and pretending to check his screen. “Your sister?”

“Yeah.” A sigh is sandwiched between explanations. “The past few months, I feel like.. They haven’t really been themselves.” 

A sudden crack splits him through.

“Not laughing. Not eating as much. Like even when they sound happy, I can tell it’s a front.. I don’t know.” 

The clunk of his phone hits the table very hard. 

No. No, no, no. Your texts have been so positive. So encouraging. Other than a few sad calls, you’ve been happy to hear from him just as he had been relieved to hear from you. Even in the car, you must’ve put your feelings lightly. 

Your wings. You’ve been enduring all that? For him? Yoongi’s heart rears its head, snagging one of his breaths and slamming both lungs into the floor.

And hatred paints his heart another shade darker.

“They finally went out last night, but. Didn’t come back until this morning.” Running rigid hands through his head, the man looks so pained. So helpless. “Same clothes, dude.” 

And Yoongi can only stare, feigning nonchalance but raging and tearing himself apart inside. “Mm.”

“I just… I know I suck at this, but. I don’t know what the hell to do. Or if I even do anything.” Your brother finally takes a swig, wincing at how much ethanol coats his tongue. 

Relax, relax, relax. As much as he wants to erupt on himself right now, Yoongi has to stay calm.

Not like he doesn’t know how. That’s usually how he operates, anyway. It’s hard to tell he’s struggling unless you look deep enough. And almost no one thinks to do so because his surface is all they want. 

But right now? He doesn’t think he can sequester this anger any longer. At him, his past, and his stupid present decisions. 

“Like I tried to say something but I just.. I felt like if I push too hard, they’re gonna shut down even more. Ever since that fight with Kook, it’s like..” 

Seeing an opening and keeping a neutral stance, Yoongi asks the most ironic question to date, “Are they seeing someone?”

At this, his friend shakes his head, eyes glued to dark amber liquid. When he answers, all the breaths in the world cut at once, 

“I think she feels all alone.” 

This hit is the strongest. Straight to the gut, breath stuttering and muscles clenching so hard they lock. It’s almost severe enough to affect how Yoongi feels around his eyes. 

“And it sucks not knowing what to do.”

Yoongi’s heart lurches, deflating and slipping out of the crack in his chest. Piercing on the jagged edges before slumping down onto a table that continues to judge him.  

You’re hurting. Your brother’s hurting. And it’s all his goddamn fault. Why can’t he just break free and admit shit? Why is he still haunted by the phantoms of his past? Why is he still so fucking weak? It’s clear that he hurt you. For months. You’ve been cheering for him that whole time while you’ve been visibly broken and it’s all because of his dumbass decision to—

“I’m heading out again.”

Yoongi raises his eyes. Because he can’t seem to move anything else. “When.”

Your older sibling takes a slower, more measured sip. Looking towards the channel playing in the living room, he answers, “After our game. Dinner Friday, game on Saturday, fly out Sunday.” 

“Mm. We’ll still be here,” Yoongi assures, keeping things as normal and neutral as he can. “Just like last time.”

How ironic. How hypocritical. He hasn’t been there for you in the slightest so how the fuck can he say that with a straight face. 

“Thanks. I know it’s a lot for y’all but..”

Not at all. Yoongi is more determined than ever to make everything up to you. It’s the least he can do after putting you through something he decided on the fly. 

On the run.

“Don’t worry about that,” he vows into his drink. Honestly, if you’ve been having second thoughts about this whole thing, he doesn’t blame you. Absolutely doesn’t blame you if you realize you’re better than this. But Yoongi’s at least gonna apologize in every single way he can. As soon as he possibly can. “We got it.” 

“K.” The man finishes his glass and goes to pour more. “Did I ever mention that she liked you?”

Now what— Coughing on whisky is a bitch and a half. Hitting his chest while both eyes squint from burn, Yoongi croaks out his exact thoughts, “What.”

At this, his friend finally breaks into his regular smile. Setting the bottle down with a hollow clunk, he points, “Don’t you fucking get any ideas. Jimin’s already on my shit list.” He scoffs out a laugh. “But it was obvious when we were younger.”

And Yoongi can only cough some more. He shakes his head through the sting, swallowing and trying to compose himself. He doesn’t know where the hell that came from, but he hopes your brother will understand when all is said and done. Even though he’s been the reason you’ve been so…

Yoongi almost fucking confesses.

“You’re a good person,” he blurts instead. Whether the guilt or last cough pushed it out, that’s still on the table. “You don’t suck at what you think you do.”

“You think so?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” 

The hell? Does this dude really not see how successful he is? How much he’s overcome and conquered and sacrificed? Truthfully, Yoongi wouldn’t be where he is today if not for your brother. Him. Jimin. You. Anybody. Which is what makes this ongoing betrayal… 

Unprecedented.  

“You’re the best out of all of us.” 

Your brother finally looks at him, though Yoongi isn’t doing the same. But he can still tell when a fist is held out for him to bump, so he does.

And they both share a drink in respectful silence. 

After a moment of them watching the tv, the man finally sighs. “Guess we did shape up pretty nice.” When he’s agreed with, he keeps going with a grin. “We were so fucking bad.”

Yoongi can only chuckle, much better memories fighting off the terrors. “Old me was a little shit.”

“You still are.”

“Says you!”

“I still am, too!”

Laughs precede big swigs of whisky and comfortable quiet. Bit by bit, shoulders start to relax with the surrounding air, and Yoongi lazily releases tension in his neck. 

After a few more pours, your brother decides to call it, using the bathroom before announcing that he’s gonna head out. Yoongi gets up from his chair to clasp hands goodbye, not expecting to hear one more plea,

“Break up with her, Yoong.” 

Shit. He sighs, and their conversation continues from the dining table to the front door. “It’s not like that.” 

“Yeah?” 

“It’s over now.” 

“For good?” As they stop beside the coat closet, your brother pins him with a look. “I was about to drive over and break down the door.”

Even though Yoongi shares a tsk with him, he can’t help but imagine what could’ve happened if that was the case. And it sends an unwanted jolt of chills. 

“Serious. I’m gonna keep saying this, but. she was just making you miserable, dude.” He slips on his shoes, smacking his foot on the ground to push one in place. “I’m sure it was good at first, but I mean… You gotta move on. You deserve better than that.” 

Anything would be better than that. Yoongi just disagrees with the whole deserving part. “I guess.” 

“You sure it’s over?”

“Yeah,” he assures, because that is something he intends to keep true forever. “It is.” 

“Good.” Keys jingling, your sibling then points into the open area with his whole arm, seven words leaving his mouth like ice, 

“Then get rid of that fucking guitar.” 

Ah. Among all the things. Of course he would bring that up, too. Jaw working, Yoongi looks away, now assaulted by all the torturous thoughts surrounding that painful reminder and fighting them off with no success. 

Get rid of it? He’s been trying. 

For three. Fucking. Months. 

“I might.” 

“…K.” 

And his best friend departs, leaving Yoongi inside and staring at the same black spot he’s kept in the corner for years. It has mocked him as he struggles. Laughed at him whenever he’s tried to throw it out. And aside from the times he’s made you feel better stinging himself on those strings, he has accomplished nothing except letting it win.

Pissed off and doused in guilt, Yoongi yanks himself away from the door, the instrument, and everything else except for his bed.

Keeping his shadow exactly where it stands. 

Yoongi knows he needs to talk to you.

But his phone exists somewhere on the other side of his bedroom door.

And he doesn’t have the strength to go get it. 

What time is it? 

All that greets him is darkness. 

Nothing new, but darkness all the same. 

Why was she mentioned? What does that mean? 

He needs to call you. He’s lying to his best friend. 

Her? You. His sheets still smell like you. 

Inhale. Breathe. Inhale. 

He needs to call you. But he’s so, so tired. 

And the darkness pulls him back under. 

Without even telling him the time. 

Buzzing. 

Faint, gentle buzzing softly lifts Yoongi’s eyelids before a loud series of smacks causes him to rush out of bed what the fuck? 

Oh. His phone fell outside. Fucking hell, his heart’s beating way too quick for that to be the only thing that happened. 

Head in his hands, Yoongi sighs deep before making his way to the dining table. And it takes all of his strength to bend down to reach for his phone. 

Hustler: Missed Calls (6)

Dumbass: 1 Message

Hustler: 3 Messages 

Chim: 7 Messages   

Chim: Missed Calls (3) 

Holy fuck. 

With only the light of his phone illuminating the dark, Yoongi rings Jimin up. His heart’s a little disappointed it wasn’t you calling just now, but it’s probably best to stay away while his brain is so scattered and torn. 

“Oh, fuck. There you are.” 

“Mm.” 

“Don’t scare me like that, bro. I was starting to get ready to drive over—” 

“It’s fine,” he juts in. “What’s up.” 

Alright, maybe he shouldn’t be an asshole. There’s no reason to let his lingering shadow from earlier control his temper now. Jimin’s just being himself, for fuck’s sake. 

“I, umm. I wanted to tell you I’m sorry.” 

Now that’s not what Yoongi expected at all. “For what?” 

There’s another pause on the line, and his reaction is immediate when he knows for a fact Jimin is fighting back tears. 

“I… I got so drunk last night, I—And I—”

Shit. A sinking feeling starts to weigh Yoongi down, his center pulling the rest of him in like a black hole. And he doesn’t need to hear the rest of this to know what this call is about. 

“He was looking for her, Yoong, and you weren’t there, either. He had this look, I—I couldn’t think of anything else to say in the moment and I told him—”

Jimin can’t even finish his confession. And it hits right in the gut. 

Despite his perceived persona, Yoongi doesn’t like hearing people cry. At least, if they don’t deserve to or don’t deserve to be sad—or if they’re you. He could care less about the rest.

But Jimin is one of the only people that can get him like this: eyes stinging at their edges and his chest concave. In the dark, though, no one can tell. No one can see him.

So he can openly swipe at his eyes before dumping tired limbs into a chair, catching his forehead in a damp palm. 

“I’m an idiot. I’m sorry.” 

Exhaling through his nose, Yoongi tries his best to calm his emotions. Because they are still raging and it’s going to take all of him to quell this tempest. 

Jimin knows more than anyone what this means to him. To you. The time you spent apart? If it wasn’t for his friend, Yoongi may have been in a much different position. If this was the only thing Park could do, then his effort has to be acknowledged. It worked like a fucking charm.

But goddamn, Yoongi wishes Jimin thought of literally anything else. He could’ve made up some random, some fling from another city, the damn studio itself. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he finally rasps out. “It’s just been a fuckin’ day.” 

Jimin sniffles before cursing at himself and, judging by the sounds on the line, Yoongi figures he’s opening his fridge. If he reaches for soju, that would not be surprising in the least, and now that sounds like a good idea.

“Same. Gah, I just… I should’ve warned you. I didn’t know he went over there.” 

“He told you?” 

“I called him after you didn’t answer earlier.” 

“Oh. Yeah, I passed out after he left.” 

“Ah.” 

Something shuts before there’s a crisp clink on the line, validating exactly what Yoongi was thinking. 

“I really am sorry. What did you end up saying?” 

“That it’s done.” 

A hum. 

“That’s very true.” 

There’s a question that Yoongi thinks to ask. Context that he needs. But as important as this information is, Yoongi doesn’t feel like talking about it right now. Or ever. But now still counts. So he switches the conversation over to something less daunting, “Practice still on tomorrow?” 

When Jimin laughs out of surprise, it gives Yoongi the smallest kick of energy.

“Ah, someone actually ready to go for once?” 

“Yeah. The plan is to make this game quick.” 

A hearty swallow spills out of the speaker before a hum follows, 

“Mm, that reminds me. Got something that might help with that.” 

What the hell does that even mean? “Huh?” 

“I’ll bring it over tomorrow. You might find some good uses for it.”

Yoongi rubs the grogginess still clinging to his face. “All these years and you’ve never given me a straight answer.” 

“Where’s the fun in that?” 

“Knowing the answer.” 

At least Jimin’s back in a good mood. Or a better state than puffy-eyed and regretful. He doesn’t have to share the pain in this, too. It was an honest mistake. 

“You’ll know it when you see it.” 

“Annoying.”

“Love you, too!” 

Yoongi’s huff billows through his nose, and Jimin’s energy almost brings enough strength for him to clear the table. 

Ehh. He’ll leave it alone. He’s been pretty good at that lately, too, no matter how early or late it is in the night. What time even is it? Checking his phone, Yoongi’s brows crease when he figures that out. Why the hell are they even on a call right now? “Wait, is it really three?” 

“Huh? Yeah. I’m telling you, dude, I was getting worried.” 

He was really about to drive over? “Sorry. I really did just pass out.” 

“Mm. Well, I’m gonna go do that now.” 

“K. Same time tomorrow?” 

“Ah, a little earlier. Just so I can give this to you before everyone else shows.” 

That just makes Yoongi infinitely more curious. “Seriously, what did you get?” 

“Relax! You will like it.” 

“Chim, I swear—”

“You’ll thank me later bye!”

As soon as Jimin disappears from the line, Yoongi is left alone again.

Exactly where he always ends up. 

Exactly where he doesn’t want to be. 

But now that he’s done dealing with those notifications, Yoongi roams lidded eyes over his screen again. 

Wait. You called him six times? Fuck. What did you text? Were you wondering where he was, too? 

Hustler [20:01]: HOLY FUCK!! my phone died after i tried calling you this morning and i just fully woke up to charge it😭 he’s not home so call whenever  

Yoongi clutches his phone a little tighter. 

He very much would’ve rather been in your bed with you all day. 

That sounds like fucking bliss. 

Hustler [23:37]: tried calling but he’s home now. are you ok?? idk what’s going on with him but i think we need to be careful

Shit, Yoongi didn’t get to tell you. You’ve probably been worried about that every second you’ve been awake today. 

And he couldn’t even make it out of his goddamn room to help. 

All he comes with is worries for you. What kind of shit is this? What is he even doing? He even outright told you that you were dating only for that to be ripped from your hands for months. Why are you still giving someone like him a chance? 

Hustler [23:40]: but all i wanna do is see you

Fucking hell.

Nothing in the world can stop his heartbeat quite like you can. With that smile, or those eyes, or the simple shit like this. Not even lightning can strike him the same way. 

Despite the consistency Yoongi has with admitting his own shortcomings, and despite the way he keeps reminding himself he doesn’t deserve you…

All he wants to do is see you, too. 

You’ve been more than he ever would’ve imagined—your consideration, your intellect, your mind. And there have been times when you’d look at him as if he was the center of your galaxy. 

After all this time. All these days and nights. 

You still don’t realize that he was destined to orbit you.  

It’s been decided long before his mind was made up—at least, the part of him that doesn’t traverse the dark side. His heart had been tugging him to you ever since that rainy day, no matter where he’s drifted or which direction he’s gone in. All of them lead back into your arms. 

But just like the feeling he gets walking into the recording booth, imposter syndrome eats him alive and doubt scavenges on what’s left. 

He will never be good enough for you. One of these days, you will realize that you don’t have to settle for him. It’s good now, but you’ll only give him so many chances, which he is swiftly running through at breakneck speeds. 

How fucking stupid. Having these thoughts while wanting nothing more than to hear your voice. 

Just like everyone else, you’ll eventually be done passing through. His winter will return after your inevitable departure, all the warmth you give focused on something else that deserves it more. 

Something that isn’t broken. 

Yoongi whips his head up at the sound of buzzing, noticing thin lines of light beneath his phone on the table. 

What. No way. 

From the rapid beats inside his chest, he shoots his hopes right into the dark. 

And they burst into beautiful sparks when he reads his screen. 

Hustler: Incoming Call 

But just like the streaks of color he witnessed with you on that balcony, his brightness is short lived. Because as soon as Yoongi answers, the way your throat constricts scorches his windpipe through.

And the first thing you attempt to get through makes his eyes shut tight. 

“Are we… is this over?” 

Fuck.

“I get it, if we are. If you—if you don’t wanna do this with me anymore.” 

Fuck. Fuck everything this is not happening right now. “Hold up,” Yoongi breathes, body on full alert. “What’s going on?” 

“I thought… When you weren’t picking up, I—”

“Breathe, babe,” Yoongi softens, hating, hating, hating himself all over again. “I passed out before you called. That’s it.” 

“Oh. Shit, I really thought—”

“You would know,” he whooshes, syllables squeezed out by the mountain of regret on his back. After hearing what he put you through? Hearing how you sound now? There’s no way he can do that shit again. No more disappearing from the grid because he can’t fight himself. “You would know if I was done.” 

Your sniffle sinks the ship with his heart inside. 

“Are you? With me?” 

Yoongi folds, fingers digging through his hair and blocking it in hard chunks. The amount of things he wants to say to you could wrap the whole world before repeating. But he settles with a truth he can say out loud, 

“No way in hell, doll.” 

Please. Don’t cry. Because he can only handle feeling his eyes sting so much in one night. There’s only so much he can take before he’s grabbing his keys and speeding over—friends and brothers be damned. 

“Okay… I’m just. It’s been a day.” 

That’s okay. 

Because he’s had a day, too. 

“I don’t wanna bother you with it, though, it’s so late.” 

Please keep going. 

Please don’t leave him alone. 

“Talk to me.” 

Like a gentle stream, your recap—though not ideal—washes away the weariness from Yoongi’s eyes. Lifts the weight he bears on his shoulders, even if just a little bit. 

You’re so good at that. 

“Well. Umm. He saw me coming home this morning. And, umm. It was weird. I don’t know why but I think we have to be really careful. And ugh, it—. It sucks because he’s going on a trip soon and I don’t wanna stress him out even more but I—” 

Shit, you’ve probably been holding all of this in ever since you got up. You don’t know that your brother believes something entirely different. But of course you’d be considerate, even now. That’s just who you are.

“I, umm. I feel so fucking bad about it but I don’t wanna mess him up right now. Or maybe he knows but just won’t say it? Fuck, sorry, I’m trying not—to—”  

The phone goes mute, and Yoongi’s head suddenly weighs ten times heavier. 

“He doesn’t know, babe,” he soothes, hating how he can’t be there to comfort you with more than his word and waves in the sky. 

If he was stronger, things could be different by now. Vastly different. Vastly better. You would cry less, he knows that for damn sure. Weak, weak, weak. That’s all he fucking is. 

The only one he seems to be strong for is you. “He came over earlier.” 

“Fuck, really?” 

“Yeah.” 

You pause, seemingly to roll this information around that beautiful mouth of yours, and Yoongi has the strongest yearning to kiss all your worries right out of it. 

“What did he say?” 

Shit. You’ll just have to forgive him later. Because Yoongi chooses not to tell the whole truth. You don’t need to bear the same worries as him, anyway. They aren’t yours. He will shoulder all of those on his own. Because he’s the reason for them in the first place. “Nothing about us.” 

“Oh, thank fuck.” 

Good. Your relief is all that matters. But Yoongi still feels bad for not being able to pick himself up. You could’ve known that a lot sooner if he was stronger. If he was better. “So don’t worry, doll.” 

“Okay. What about you? Are you okay?” 

Huh? Your questions catch him completely off-guard. It’s almost comical how his first reaction goes straight to a No. But sticking to his earlier stances, he won’t bother you with any of that. There is a truth that he can admit. One that’s always true and will continue to be so. “Just wanna see you.” 

And this is when his eyes slowly shut. Don’t. Don’t cry.

“Me, too, baby.” 

Hearing that? Chipped and broken from your lips? That is another thing Yoongi can’t handle. His heart beats once before it free falls, and he clutches his phone just a little tighter. 

Fuck everything. He’s gonna find a way to do this. All of it.

“I’ll figure it out.”

“You will?”

He’ll figure out how to move mountains to make it up to both you and your brother. 

“Just a little longer.”

He has to.

“Okay.”

Neither of you deserve this. And he doesn’t deserve either of you. Truly, the only thing he deserves is to be alone. And judging by the way things are going, it’s only a matter of time before you start resenting this behavior and leave, too. 

“Thank you.”

What? Something in Yoongi flickers, and he lifts his whole head to eye his screen. 

“For putting up with me.”

Oh. Of course you’d assume you’re the issue. Seems like you need the same type of assurance that he does. Both of you the same? Who would’ve thought his bruised soul would sync up with a perfect one like yours. 

At this, he holds his breath before chuckling soft. “This has been the highlight of my day, doll,” he admits, finally breaking into a tiny smile and sitting back.

“Really?”

Wait. There was another good part of his day. But he wants to save that for when he can tell you in person. “One of them. But you’ll hear about the other one later.”

“Boo.”

Cute. Wait, isn’t it absurdly late? You have to be up for work in mere hours. It’s a miracle you reached out when you did. “Don’t you have to be up soon?”

“A ha… Yeah.” 

“What are you still talking to me for?” 

“I miss you.” 

Well. That’s not something that he expected. And your admittance being so immediate actually sends shivers down his arms. 

Yoongi can only laugh to himself. He knew he had it bad, but this feeling is something else. “Don’t do that.” 

“Don’t do what? Miss you? Yeah, right.”  

God. You’re getting too fucking good at this. He’s gotta fight back or else his throne will be taken before he even sees you again. “Just a bad night to say it, doll.” 

“Why?” 

Perfect. “Cus I’m willing to get in the car.” 

“Fuck.” 

Yoongi happily lets his mouth slant when you groan, chuckling into the receiver and getting up to clear the table. When he flicks on the kitchen light, he doubles down, “Wanna try again?” 

He knows you’re gonna say no. Even though your brother doesn’t know, it’s definitely not a proper time to sneak you out—as much as he fucking wants to. Fuck, to be the one sneaking you out of your house… Maybe there’s another version of you both out there that’s done it. A version of him watching a version of you creeping out to his car, face shining in nightfall and etching a permanent smile into his heart.

“I hate you.” 

Yoongi should’ve expected that. The sudden laugh that flings out into his liquor cabinet ricochets off multiple bottles, and he shuts it while sporting a wide grin. “That’s better.” 

“Ha ha.” 

You’re smiling, too. Cute ass. Just the fact that he knows makes him excited for the future, and he’s determined to make it count. Make it worth it. You deserve every goddamn apology he can give. “I miss you, too, babe,” he whispers, grabbing the glasses from the table to wash in his sink. 

“Nu uh! You hate me, too.” 

Wait. Did you…

Did you just pout? 

Hell no, that’s outright cheating. That’s when Yoongi will never be able to win. Putting the phone down, he promptly states his new plan into a basin, “Nah, I’m going to sleep.” 

“Wait, huh? Why!” 

“Nothing.” 

“I swear to god—” 

“Nothing at all,” Yoongi lies, voice straight as he can muster while hot water runs over his hands. It’s a good kind of sting as his chilled skin adjusts, and he cleans one glass before he hears you ask in his ear, 

“Getting ready for bed? Or are you in the kitchen?” 

The smallest smile graces his face. “Guess.” 

“Kitchen.” 

The hell? “How’d you know?” 

“You’re always in there.” 

Can’t deny that. The glasses are both set to dry in the dishwasher as Yoongi’s amusement dies down, and his next comment flows out before he can think much of it, “You like to keep me in here.” 

“It does seem to be where we end up, huh?” 

“It does.” Which is fine by him. He’ll never forget all the times you’ve been in here. Your laughter and your storms, he will remember them all. 

“The world said let them cook.” 

Your giggles will be the fucking end of him one day. Fuck, he can’t wait to see you. He may even find a way to see you before the game. 

But for now, Yoongi will figure out how to talk to you, every day, no matter what. Texts, calls, whatever the fuck. The effort has got to show from now on. No more of this dark headspace shit. He needs to try harder and figure it out faster. For you. 

“Go to sleep, doll,” he huffs with full cheeks. 

After another adorable batch of sounds, you rustle on the line before sighing, 

“You better sleep, too.”

“I will.” 

With a blink, Yoongi notices two things. One, he just cleared his table and cleaned up without even thinking. And two, despite feeling like absolute shit the entire day and dreading the coming of night, falling asleep won’t be an issue. 

Because of you. It’s always you. 

Maybe there’s a way out. Maybe he can finally face it all and come out on the other side. “Talk to you tomorrow, babe.”

“I’d like that. And you’re sure he doesn’t know?”

Just like that, the demons are knocking again. Closing his eyes, Yoongi murmurs into the receiver, “I’m sure.” 

There will come a time when he will tell you. But that will be way in the future, when he is ready. For now, you’ll just have to trust that he’s telling the truth. Not the whole truth, but enough for it to calm your nerves. 

“Okay. Good night, baby.”

One more heartbeat to get him through the night. 

“Night, doll.”

When the phone cuts, Yoongi’s hand falls, his stare shifting straight to the living room. 

Right towards the corner that stares back. 

It’s been five days.

But it feels like you’ve aged twenty-eight years.

Ever since your brother confronted you—after your much needed reunion with his best friend—you’ve been floating through time. Lost. Confused. Wondering why that conversation went the way it did and gnawing at your sanity bit by bit. 

And even though Yoongi explicitly told you he didn’t say anything concerning your relationship, you still haven’t shaken that feeling. No matter where you are, who you’re with, or on a pretty Friday like this one, you feel… Strange. 

When you saw your brother waiting, you for sure thought you were gonna get grilled. It was a given you were gonna break as soon as he started asking deeper and more specific questions. The fallout was gonna happen in your own house right at your door. 

…So what in the fuck was that?

You shift your legs, the chill of the office failing to comfort you in your manufactured, building distress. 

Somehow, that version of the conversation proved much, much worse. Because now you’re spiraling trying to figure out why he just took your lie as the truth. Truthfully, you feel nauseous. And as much as you need to get some semblance of closure, you still feel hesitant. Because if he’s just biding time? He’s not just thinking about what to do with you. 

He’s thinking about what to do with Yoongi, too. 

This is so hard. 

The only thing—the only thing—keeping you grounded. Is Yoongi himself. 

Ever since the call you never thought he’d answer, you’ve been contacted every night. What was once days of radio silence quickly shifted to him reaching out however he could, hours of the day be damned. Just last night, in fact, Yoongi sent you texts at four in the morning, and you beam just thinking about what he said so casually.  

Yoongi [3:57am]: That keyboard I told you about is fucking dope. Just got it today and it won’t let me sleep lmaooo

Yoongi [3:58am]: I was gonna say sorry for texting but fuck it you’re getting all the updates :) 

No matter what it is, be it a text, call, or video chat, Yoongi seems fully committed and in the moment. Present. And it’s been… Really nice. If you didn’t have your brother’s shadow hovering over your brain, life would be practically perfect. 

Forcing yourself to actually work, you manage to get some small things done. Even the meeting you attend goes smoothly and you leave any outside worries on the other side of those glass walls.

So when you get back to your desk, an awaiting paper bag makes you pause. And your whole body prepares to weep.

Only one person has ever sent you food while you’re at work. And staring inside the parcel, you would’ve been able to tell who it was from even if said person had never sent any before.

There’s a small note on top of a to-go container—one that you immediately recognize as that super good restaurant next to Jungkook’s studio. 

What the hell? How did Yoongi know you wanted some this whole week but didn’t wanna risk being so close? With careful fingers, you pluck the tiny paper from the bag, opening it with care before your eyes get so teary eyed you can’t even read.

Tonight.  

This man.

I got the next one.

This wonderful, charming man. 

But you’re getting what I need so here’s the list:

Goddamn it, Min Yoongi. 

Seeing an actual list of food squeezes a laugh through your throat in a squeak, tears rushing out of your ducts before they’re hastily swiped. 

After five days. Yoongi really just sent you on a grocery run to surprise you with another meetup.

The gesture is so him that you cannot help but shake your head, ruefully huffing to no one and pocketing the note in your bag. And all your worries scatter even further. 

A dinner before the big game is risky, for sure, but at this point you couldn’t care less. Your brother has his own work outing tonight, anyway, and you are dead set on breaking all of this to him soon.

Even though you are very much unprepared. And he is going to lose his fucking mind if he doesn’t know already. Fuck.

You’ve had all five days to think it over. All the possible combinations and possibilities and outcomes. Some of them are extreme, some of them are hopeful. But for a majority of these projections, you have a feeling that none of you are gonna leave it without wounds. 

And you don’t know how you’re gonna save both of them if theirs are cut too deep. 

Regardless, that’s in the future. Not now. Right now, you are staying in the present and working like molasses until you can jet out the door, nary a care nor concern weighing on your heels.

Tonight. He’s gonna cook for you?

You’ll have the first substantial meal you’ve had in months.

Even though you want nothing more than to see Yoongi, your nerves are still buzzing and bumping into each other nonstop. There’s a lot you still need to know. Like why he was radio silent for months, and why your brother has been a little weird this whole week. 

Save it for later. Hopefully Yoongi will tell you why eventually. Or that gap will stay elusive to your brain forever.

Sliding into your car, you dump your bag in the passenger seat before pulling out the list, clutching it close and taking a leap that could either calm your nerves or spike them. 

Yoongi: Outgoing Call 

When he picks up, you legitimately don’t answer. Because even after all this time, you still can’t quite function when you hear that deep voice addressing you directly. 

“Hey.” 

All you have to do is say something. Anything. You could rattle off the damn list, stumbling over all the syllables just like they’re currently smushed together in your fingers. 

But you don’t snap out of this trance until he speaks again. 

“Hello?” 

“Hi,” you squeak out, clearing your throat while watching other people walk to their cars. “Hi, sorry. I just umm.” 

You just what? Somehow lost all sense of language just from him saying hi? Get it together. Stop that racket in your stomach and say what you were gonna say. “Thank you for the food. I’m off work now so I’m heading to the store.” 

He simply huffs a quiet laugh.

“Get whatever you want, too. Just let me know how much it is.” 

Huh. Did Yoongi just say all those words in that order? If you heard him right, forget the damn food. You’re close to speeding directly to his place and breaking down the motherfucking door. “Oh, I definitely will,” you respond with instead of hauling ass, the words pushing through your lingering smile. “And don’t worry about that, I got it.” 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah! I got big girl money now.” 

Yoongi laughs again on the line, fuller and closer this time. Are you on speaker? 

“It’s like that? Maybe I should work there, too.” 

“Oh, you’d hate it,” you giggle, scheming hard in your head for tonight already. Pretty bubbles in your ribs lift all your spirits. “I’m actually pretty bossy here.”

The groan that seeps through your car should be illegal. 

“That is literally what I’ve been wanting to see.” 

It’s your turn to chuckle as you finally make your way out of the parking lot, heading right to the market that you know for a fact has all of what he’s asking for. “I’m only that way at work, though.” 

“Do better.” 

Your immediate response makes his laugh crunchy in the speakers, and you go along with him because life is good. Life is fucking great right now. “Never mind, you’re paying. And I’m getting stuff for dessert now, too.” 

“What? Who said anything about dessert?” 

“Me,” you huff out in pride. Since he wants to see that demanding side come out so bad. With a fleeting thought, you think about what it could be like if you end up confident enough to— 

“I’m starting to regret this.”

“Regret what?”

“Everything.”

Liar! Your cheeks hurt as you look both ways before making a turn. “Can’t fool me. You’re excited.”

“I am.”

The way there was no hesitation sends shivers up your spine. But it’s partly because you thought you’d be faced with another joke or dig. Not a sudden one-eighty. Stopping at a light, you clear your throat before shyness puffs right out of it. “Well, good,” you state while checking your mirrors. “Cus I am, too.” 

“That’s a given, though.”

“Excuse you.”

Yoongi laughs before you hear the sound of cabinets, and you wonder which ones he could be touching. 

“Mm, babe. One more thing.” 

Can he stop making your heart beat two times at once? “Hmm?”

There’s a little bit of pause, followed by the clank of a pan on metal. When you hear another hum, you wonder what he could possibly—

“I think we’re out of condoms.” 

Who is out of what. If you weren’t still at a red, your foot would’ve slammed on the gas because what the fuck! All you can manage out are sounds without substance, random syllables, gibberish. Nothing is computing in your head. 

“Wait. Or are we?”

Okay, Yoongi needs to stop with that two-letter word before your behavior turns downright criminal. With as much seriousness as you can manage, you accuse, “Are you just fucking with me?”

And his response launches you forward just as the light turns green, 

“Yeah. That’s why we’re out of—”

“Alright!” you cut in, stopping stopping stopping him because for whatever reason, this conversation is too much. Despite seeing this very man naked in many, many ways, just having this talk with him is making you shier than ever before. “Guess I’ll, umm. Get those, too.”

“Nah, you don’t have to.”

“Oh. Found some?”

“No.”

Wait. If he didn’t find some why is he telling you that you don’t have to— “Oh,” you peep in realization. A very sudden, jaw dropping realization. “Goddamn it, you’re too distracting now, bye.”

And he finally breaks with laughter that’s contagious as hell. Which isn’t fair when you’re pretending to be upset with him. Even when you can’t see Yoongi, you can imagine the way his cheeks rise and his eyes crease. The way the whole room illuminates when he’s packed with happiness. 

And you want that to be the case forever. 

“You’re just lucky I’m not there with you.” 

“Yeah, you’d be annoying as hell.” 

“Damn!” 

As the market comes into view, your teeth shine as you grin, roasting this man quickly becoming one of your favorite pastimes. 

“To be fair,” you start to amend, fingers drumming on the wheel as you decide whether or not to say what you want. After deciding that there’s no wrong answer here, you softly admit, “I really do wanna get groceries with you.” 

There’s no words that come out in response. Only the slight movements of shuffling and water running and what could be more cabinets closing. But you don’t really know for sure—

“It’s gonna happen, doll.” 

You clutch the wheel.

“Cus I want that, too.”

One of these days you’re gonna see this damn cat again. 

Foot connecting with Yoongi’s door, you grunt as multiple bags burden your limbs, pride digging divots along your arms—second trips be damned. 

It doesn’t take long for him to let you in anyway, and you swoon at the way he doesn’t even ask while taking some of your baggage. But the kiss on your cheek makes your heart bang into everything between the front door and the kitchen. It’s so distracting that you barely smell the spices greeting you, too. 

“Thanks for getting all this,” Yoongi says as you both cross onto tile.  

“Of course.” Lifting the much lighter load that you have, you revel in the small thumps and thuds on his counter. Not really knowing why. “Let’s put this up before I yell at you.”

His laugh comes out in hisses while you both start reaching into bags. “For what!” 

“Sent me everywhere to find some of this shit.” 

“You could’ve asked somebody.” 

Feeling a bit silly and high off his presence already, you repeat his words in a goofy mocking tone, and the way he blows out air sends your belly fluttering. 

And just like that, things are back to normal again. No worries about your sibling, or work, or anything else looming by the door. Inside is what matters, and the whole apartment fills with jabs and jokes as groceries find their homes.

But Yoongi finds a bag you had separated from the rest, and you snap your mouth shut when he looks inside, something rising in your core when he turns to you with an eyebrow raised. And a smirk so salacious it makes you quiver. 

“What about it,” you squeak out, crumbling when he simply takes the bag and flings it through his bedroom door. “You said you—we were out, so…” 

“That’s a big box, doll,” he points out on his way to your tightly bitten lip. Mouth slicing through your sanity, he approaches you with a glint in his eyes. “Got something you wanna say?” 

“Nope,” you whoosh out oh god he looks way too hot in those sweats wait is that a growing bulge? “Although I will say it took me forever to pick out what—”

Sparks ignite your hands when your lips are claimed, launching them into his shirt and tugging him backward because you’ve been waiting way too long to kiss the shit out of him. 

And Yoongi responds in kind, pinning you to his fridge and so, very obvious that he’s been waiting for this, too. 

Heaven probably wonders how to replicate this feeling. How to imitate this treasured yearning that only he can pull from the depths of your ocean. Deep, deeper, deepest. All these kisses. Your ascending affection. 

“As much as I wanna throw you on my bed,” Yoongi jokes, pulling away and giving your cheek a light tap. “I’m taking you somewhere.” 

And you’re so thrown from the impact that your brain mini-resets. “Huh? We’re leaving?”

“Uh huh.”

Hold on. Wait. Is this what he meant when he said he’s getting the next one? You’re going out to eat? Together? No. No, there’s no way. Yoongi knows that’s the worst possible thing to do right now, as much as the idea is sending your belly in a frenzy. “Are you sure? What about dinner? Won’t people… You know.”

“It’s ready already,” he reveals. “By the door.” 

Your head snaps to where he points out, even though you can’t see through the bar. “Really?” No wonder it smells like a cooking aftermath. All those smells twirling around your head. How did you not even catch the dishes in the sink? 

But hold up, you just bought a shit ton of food! “Then what the hell was the run for?”

Yoongi blinks. Then he does it again. Expression stone still, he responds as if you were privy to his plans this entire time, “I told you to get what I needed.” 

Your turn to blink.

“And I needed food.”

This man is going to be the death of you. Affronted, your jaw hangs before you grit through a smile that betrays you, “Oh, you—” 

“So thanks,” he quips through another tilt of his lips. “Let’s go, doll.” 

The begrudged sound that leaves you makes him kick his head back on the way out the kitchen. 

“Eat.”

The container on your thighs warms you through. “Now?”

“Mm.”

“I can wait,” you assure, watching as night paints the surrounding scenery in navy and black. “We can eat together.” 

“Just a bite then.” 

Turning to Yoongi, you don’t see a change in his face as he eyes the road. The veins in his arm catch all the streetlight, and you gulp before your gaze falls to what he made. Music fills the car, and you decide that maybe you do feel a little hungry. So you listen to instruction, popping it open and being careful as you pluck a piece to try. 

There’s no denying it. This motherfucker is a chef. “Fuck, this is good.” 

Your borderline moan sends Yoongi’s shoulders bobbing, and you will never get over those low, gravelly laughs. “Sorry.” Your hand hovers over your mouth in embarrassment. “I don’t react like that unless I’m alone.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Yeah, well,” you swallow. “Course you don’t.”

A tiny peek of teeth show as Yoongi smiles, and you don’t expect what he offers next, “Just be you, doll. It’s just me.”

The next bite of food pauses on the way to your mouth. “Oh,” you murmur. “Same for you then.”

“Nah.”

“Why not?”

“Cus we wouldn’t make it to where we’re going.”

That was legitimately the worst time to put food in your mouth. Sputtering, your words come out low and chortled, “You fucker.”

His hisses are brief before he dips into silence again. As he slowly turns the wheel, you can see a glimpse of something deep in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he suddenly apologizes, swallowing as you keep your gaze. 

What is that look? Weren’t you both just having a good time? “For what, baby?” 

“Everything.” 

Your lungs flinch. This is definitely not what you expected to hear on the way to wherever the hell you’re going. “Oh.” 

Yoongi still doesn’t look your way, and with each pass of a light over his face, you catch quick snapshots of those eyes you’re still so shy of. “I, umm. I didn’t expect shit to pan out this way.” 

“It’s okay,” you whisper. 

After a slow motion of disagreement, his head falls forward just a bit. And your eyes find his hand clutching the gear shift in what you sadly think is frustration. “I’ve just thought about some things,” he starts, another song playing. “How worried you must’ve been.” 

You look forward. Because this is the part where you can’t face him. “I was. But not for the same reason as last time.” Without a hesitation of your own, your palm reaches between your seats. And you can tell Yoongi watches as you take his hand to hold. 

“I was worried about you,” you correct with softness. “It was hard because I didn’t know what to do.” Don’t fucking cry. You filled quite a few buckets already. “When you started not really saying much, I just… Hoped it was for a good reason, so. Yeah.” 

You feel your hand gently pulled, which is already enough to make you melt. But when it’s kissed, you don’t know what the hell to fucking do. 

“I’m sorry, doll,” Yoongi whispers into your skin, lips brushing with every syllable and painting a canvas of his reconcile. “I won’t leave you hanging like that again.” 

There’s a tiny fire in the back of your throat, the embers reaching your eyes just a little too aggressively. You attempt to squash the growing flames before they flare. “Oh. Umm. Thank you.” What else do you say? Yoongi’s being wonderful, but why do you feel… sad? Why is there lingering snow on your windowsill? “Were you worried?” 

“Me? Umm.” He stops at a light that he clearly didn’t want to stop at. Resting your conjoined hands on his pliant thigh, his jaw works as he observes them.

And you wonder if he thinks they slot together perfectly, too. 

“…Yeah.” 

Fuck. “About what?” 

“That you’d hate me.” 

Your heart meshes his fingers with yours. “Yoongi.” 

“Or that you shouldn’t be with someone that’s gone this much.” 

Fuck, he’s doing it again. Regressing. You’ve seen it happen in his kitchen and you’ll be damned if all that work, all that peeling, all that resolution amounted to nothing wait, wait, stop. This isn’t gonna be an overnight fix. And you have no clue what’s been happening, so just keep trying, trying, trying. 

“I’m used to people leaving,” you joke, but not really. “Like seasons.” 

He whips his head to you, and you backpedal because that probably sounded so random. You’ve got to think about filtering your thoughts a little more now that you’re getting comfortable. Yoongi says you can be yourself, sure, but you have to admit your quirks are a little out there. “I know it’s weird, but..” 

He’s quiet as the light turns green. And when you don’t finish, he admits, “I think the same.” 

“You do?” 

Your hand is brushed as a hum peppers it from above. “Mmhmm.” 

“Well.” That’s interesting. You didn’t know anyone thought about that stuff like you did. Now you wonder if there’s anywhere else your wavelengths sync, and if they’ve been syncing up all this time. “At least you come back.” 

Yoongi squeezes your hand tight before he holds it against his lips. Again. Fuck, this is a lot. You’re so wrapped up in his gesture that you don’t catch what he whispers. 

“Hmm?” 

He glances at the center console before putting your hand back on his thigh. 

“Always, doll.” 

And the fire you stepped on rages back with a vengeance. Heat and sting surrounds your eyes, and you don’t hide how you press your feelings into his skin. “Me, too.” 

If you weren’t lost in the surrounding scenery outside, you would have caught Yoongi’s look. But all you feel is his hand clutching you tight, and it breaks you down all the same. 

The rest of the drive is spent with him telling you to eat more, and a bunch of your sing-alongs to almost every song that comes on. It seems like the tiny bit of closure opened you both up, and you don’t even realize that you’ve been on the road for a really long time. 

But finally, Yoongi pulls up to a building, and you’re haphazardly rapping along to a song before you notice. Wait. What? He drove you to a rec center? 

Your fingers curl around his forearm before you even notice. “What’s this?” 

“Where we’re going.”

Hold on, you’re going inside? “Are we even allowed to be here?”

When Yoongi responds, his teeth make you shiver as he smirks. “Can’t say for sure, no.”

“Then why—”

He unlocks before you can finish, and you’re left in an empty car until he rounds the hood, coming over to your side and opening the door. You almost don’t hear what he says next, too focused on the jewelry swinging from his neck as he bends forward. 

But you catch it, and glance once more at the sight in front of you before biting your lip—in nervousness or excitement, you can’t decide.

“You comin’?”

Damn. Obviously, you want nothing more than to see him here. And it’s much too late for anyone to be around. But if something happens… Whatever. 

Your mouth finally unsticks. “If we get caught, you’re gonna pay for this.”

And you can’t resist his stupid grin. “Now get your pretty ass out before I put you in the back.” 

“Yoongi!”

Grinning, he leads you out, and you follow him to the trunk. After bouncing his stowed ball a couple times, he decides to lean in and reach for something else. 

Wait. Is that what you think it is? “Did you always have that in there?” you ask, pointing to the contraption that Yoongi’s using to air up his basketball.

And he does a horrible job at suppressing a smile. Which makes you burst into flutters and beats beats beats. “You liar!” Oh, you are gonna wipe those laughs from his throat. “I had to change up my plans because of you!”

Palming the ball, Yoongi tilts his head dangerously to one side. “And I got to see you,” he proudly claims. “So I’ll take it.”

You hate how the memories come packaged with what’s haunted you. What else happened during that time, and what happened after you left. But there’s no way you’re gonna bring that up. Not when the night has transformed into something so magical. 

So you just clutch your food and lean on his car, opting to compliment him to wipe the murk away. “Got to see you, too,” you puff into the brisk night. Because you harbor a bit of nostalgia in your bones. And because he still makes you shy. “You and your stupid hair.”

Another bout of hisses wisp into your side. As you turn to regard Yoongi again, he slips his chains into his hoodie before continuing, and you swoon at the veins popping out of his skin with each pump. 

How can he look so perfect doing the simplest things? So unfair. 

After seconds that feel like an hour, Yoongi’s done. And he scans the parking lot before telling you to follow him. 

What you expect is some outdoor courts. Maybe getting past a gate or two. So when you approach a back door lit by the shine of a single light, you freeze. “Are we really going in?”

Fishing something out of his pocket, Yoongi simply turns over his shoulder. “Yeah. Why not?”

“Oh.” You didn’t think you’d actually get inside the building. If there was an outside court just as accessible it would’ve made sense. Can you even bring food in here? Is that question even relevant? “No reason.”

“So I shouldn’t bust in?”

Huh. “What?”

“I’ve already done it a few times, so.”

“Wait!” Nerves throw your hand on his bicep before you can stop. “What if someone sees us?”

He’s so warm. And so toned. And if he plans on taking his hoodie off? You’re not prepared for whatever the hell he has underneath. 

Voice softened, Yoongi tries to placate your paranoia, “They won’t, doll.”

“Are you sure? If we get caught here they’re gonna call the police and I am definitely not… Gonna…”

The object in his hand jangles, and you clearly see he was just joking the whole time because keys—keys—stare you in the face. 

What is it with him and keys? 

When Yoongi speaks, you feel like you’ve never done anything bad in your life, and suddenly the thought of trespassing with an official way in is so scandalous, 

“You picked the wrong night to be a good girl.”

You have to admit. Seeing him so mischievous and dashing makes you wanna follow him wherever the hell he goes. Even if it gets you in trouble. Even if you were breaking in tonight, you would be all in. And that thought should frighten you, but it only does because of the wings tickling your rib cage. 

How can he make you feel rebellious and yet still so shy? The power of Min Yoongi. He’s way too good at destroying you.

When you glare, the man only grins, hisses of laughter leaving him way too happily before he unlocks the door to no alarms or sirens. He doesn’t need to throw a wink your way, too, but of course he does as he lets you in. Which causes you to float through the dark entryway instead of walk oh he did not just slap your ass!

A jolt in your cunt causes you to regard him in shock. To which he hums in a feigned question. “Hmm?”

With nothing but darkness and his cologne surrounding you, it’s only natural that giddiness takes hold. Truthfully, you’re packed with so much adrenaline that you feel a little wild yourself. “You’ve been waiting to do that, huh.” 

“So fucking long.”

You are not surviving the night. And you don’t give a single shit.

But as shy and out of control as you feel around this man, you also feel safe—even in a faraway, dark building that you’ve never been in before. That’s gotta say something about him, right? 

Yoongi feels along the wall beside you for lights, purposefully bumping your chest with his front even though he’s securing a ball with an arm. When you question his joking decision with noises, a chaste kiss on your lips shuts you right up.

“You’re in the way,” he jokes through what you think is a smile, and you’re about to move when he flicks on a switch very far away from your shoulder.

Liar! Your jaw drop must be comical because Yoongi’s grin stretches astronomically wide. But you cannot find a retort because seeing him so chill while you’re stiff from paranoia has you at a loss.

Is this how he used to be all the time? This carefree, all caution to the wind? He’s so fucking handsome like this. No wonder he’s pulled so many hearts just like yours. 

When you still don’t find any words to say, Yoongi makes it harder, stepping so close that you have to swing the plastic container away. Taking one of your hands in his free one, he gives it a warm squeeze while murmuring,

“You’re so cute.”

“How,” you ask just as softly.

And Yoongi responds with lights in his eyes. “Just are.”

Your lips mesh with his as he keeps your fingers secured, and suddenly every cautious thing in your body gets launched into the skies, too.

But it ends as soon as it begins. And Yoongi backs away from you with a smile, 

“Eat.”

“Huh?”

“Eat, doll,” he orders before turning and dribbling onto the court.

When you call out that he hasn’t eaten yet, Yoongi tells you that he already did. When you look around to figure out where to even sit, you decide on the closest set of bleachers and make yourself as comfortable as you can.

Which is impossible. Because they’re bleachers. Which is now triple impossible. Because Yoongi just shucked off his hoodie and the only thing he had under it was his chains goddamn it.

If you weren’t already sitting down you would’ve fallen right into the next dimension. How the fuck are you supposed to eat in these conditions shit he’s walking over! 

Your throat seizes as Yoongi approaches, face trained as if he isn’t aware of his overwhelming presence. All he does is bend to place his sweater next to your legs. But the quick smooch on your lips makes you swoon harder than you ever have.

And the way his silver taps your chest makes you mentally hold on for dear life. Wait. What the fuck, Yoongi’s taking them off right now? Right in front of you? Just as you're supposed to eat oh okay he’s handing them to you great wonderful fantastic.

The metal links feel so warm yet slightly cold to the touch. Weighty, yet light. But you clutch them in your hand as you connect a gaze to his.

“Relax,” he orders, lightly slapping the side of your thigh. “No need to worry.” 

And with bangs swishing, he goes right back to the ball waiting for him. Leaving you starry-eyed to hell with silver in your palm.

…Did all of that just happen? Is any of this even real? Quite frankly, you fucking forgot what you were even worried about. 

No matter what he does—simple lay-ups standing in place, dribbling to different spots to shoot, or even lazily jogging after the ball—you’re so enthralled with his actions that you forget that you’re not supposed to be here. 

And it takes your last bite of food for something to finally hit you. How does Yoongi have keys to this place? Where the hell did he score those because you don’t think he ever mentioned anything about working here. Or anywhere else other than the studio. 

Yet another mystery to add to this walking, bare-chested enigma. 

But there’s another question forming behind your eyes the longer you watch him practice, the more you notice how he’s actually going hard. Yoongi’s really good right now. A lot better than what you’ve seen of him before. 

Has he been coming here more often than he’s let on? And why does he look so… serious? You’d be surprised if he even remembered you’re here. 

Setting your empty container down, you gather the chains in your hands again, deciding to slip them over your head for safer keeping. After, you grab a water before stepping down the bleachers, hanging a little ways away until Yoongi notices you’re courtside.

And when he sees you, he stops practicing immediately, jogging to you so sweaty and shining and gross and handsome and— “Wait, you’re all swea—”

You’re pulled into a kiss the same time you hear a basketball drop, salt on your tongue and damp palms on your cheeks. And you melt right into the shiny wood floor, drifting, drifting, sailing into dreamland even though you’re technically already there. 

“Sweaty,” you whisper into his hot breaths of exertion, a twinge between your legs when he kisses you even deeper—breathing, inhaling, taking you in. “Gross.”

“Thanks.” 

You flash a smile against Yoongi’s lips, giggling because this is all better than anything your brain could’ve conjured on its own. When you ask why he’s going so hard, all you get is a question in return,

“You’re perfect, you know that?” 

Huh? Blinking, you suddenly don’t remember your own train of thought. “What did I do?” 

“Nothing.” He presses a wet mouth to your nose. “Did you eat?”

Laughing, you reassure him, “I did, I did.” 

“Good. You bored?”  

“Huh?”

Yoongi leans to softly take your lips this time, and you want to say he’s approaching the legal limit for kisses tonight. “Thought you came over cus you wanna leave.”

“And stop seeing you play? I could watch this forever.” You squeeze the water bottle a little tighter. “Just checking on you.” Another strike hits between your legs when Yoongi takes another, lazier glide over your mouth, and you sigh when he tugs you forward by your bottoms, fingers slick from use. 

You could do this for eternity, too.

“Well I got about five more minutes in me, so..”

This man. 

“Forever might be a stretch.” 

“Ah, shut up. Here,” you offer through a giggle, holding the water out for him to take. 

“Thanks.” When he does, he tilts his head at just the right angle to cut you through, gulping down liquid and making you do the same to your nothingness. 

So unfair. “You looked like you were going pretty hard.” 

Lowering the bottle, Yoongi shifts his jaw before taunting something a ways off. “I kinda was.” 

“It was kinda hot.” 

His laugh makes you smile, and his next swig makes you weep. “Nah, but. This is our practice gym. I can just zone out here, so. It’s been one of those things.” 

Ah. Was this one of the places Yoongi ended up during those months apart? You wish he could’ve brought you along sometimes. Or at least thought about asking. It’s nice just to be around him while he does something he likes. Gaining courage, you say exactly what’s on your mind, “You can always bring me, too. If you want.” 

And it’s true. You don’t really have to do much when you’re with him, because just being around him is what brightens your day. Lifts your mood. 

But you have to admit that watching him play basketball while shirtless is the biggest fucking win in history. 

When did Yoongi get so close? When did his eyes retreat so far away? “I didn’t wanna bother you with this,” he admits, a drop of sweat clinging onto his chin. “I don’t even put music on.” 

“You never bother me,” you whisper back. Hoping that he believes you and that he will start to accept that as fact. Because it is. “Even if you’re being annoying.” 

The bottle crinkles as he smiles, and there’s a soft kiss to your lips that has no real desire behind it. Just a nice peck that sends you careening down a hill of flowers. “You won’t be feeling that way tomorrow, babe.” 

“And why is that?”

“Cus of what I’m wearing.” 

And he says that while half-naked? Like any look on him could get any worse. “Oh,” you scoff out, fully calling his bluff. “As if.”

Well, fuck. You don’t enjoy the smirk plastered on his face. It has you both dreading and excited for whatever demon you’re gonna run into tomorrow. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He shrugs as he starts to hand the water back. “We can go soon, by the way.”

“Okay.”

But before you can grab it, Yoongi pulls the bottle from reach. “Unless,” he teases. “You wanna play me.”

“What.”

His grin shines, face glistening and turning your insides to jelly. “You told me you’d win, so. Let’s see it.”

You said that? While sober? How does he remember something like that when you can’t even recall a time or place you’d tell him something so bold. “When!”

“Right after you woke up once. Said you’re a master?”

Oh. That was ages ago. Fuck, you already forgot how did Yoongi remember? 

“Oh. Well.” Your nose turns up in feigned haughtiness. “Wouldn’t wanna throw you off your game before a championship.” 

“Uh huh.”

“I’d make you cry what the fuck!” 

Water spills down your head in rivulets as you freeze, stunned and watching Yoongi jogging his laughs back to the bleachers like a punk. “Think you got something on your face, doll.”

“Yoongi!” What the hell possessed him to do that to you here? Racing after him with purpose, you slam into him just as he reaches for another bottle, shoving a laugh out of his throat and making him catch himself on hardwood. “Nu uh, gimme that!”

“It’s mine, I just ran out—”

“Bitch!” You lunge for another bottle lying further away, distancing yourself to quickly rip the cap off and to avoid feeling his slick back on your hands. 

And it’s a lawless gym as both of you start spraying water, arcs and splashes of bottled liquid spewing over the court and soaking into your clothes and his bare skin. Which proves to get worse and worse for your wellbeing the more he gets soaked in your attacks. 

Running ends up being the only option to avoid getting completely drenched, and you hightail it behind bleachers before your waist is grabbed. “Fuck!” 

“Uh huh.” 

You try to wrestle out of his hold, his wet forearm digging lovely into your stomach, and you’re temporarily let go just so Yoongi can spin you around. 

Your back connects with solid wall, the impact shooting a grunt out of your throat before you laugh out of pure disbelief. “I can’t believe, you got me to do that,” you rush out, sentence punctuated by your breaths more than anything else. 

Here you are. Under bleachers. With Yoongi’s skin caging you with radiating heat.  

You can only stare as he drinks you in, no doubt looking at his silver around your neck and your chest heaving from exertion. Butterflies float across your stomach when his smile drips, and you fold as soon as he swoops in. 

Everything in your being pulses hard. It’s so visceral that you teeter on the edge of sanity and logic, and the thoughts slipping through your mind are just as wild as you feel. Before you’re even aware of it, a mischievous finger slides along the hem of his shorts, and you jump at the downright boulders rolling down your front, 

“Careful, doll.”

“Hmm?” You feel bad. And it feels fantastic. “What was that?” 

More gravel slides down his tongue, and you shake at his attractive as fuck threat, “Fuck around and find out then.” 

Your giggles add feather lightness into his murky laughs, but you’re so preoccupied that you don’t notice his hand between your legs until he slaps the inside of your thigh. “Yoo—!”

“Unless.” He leans forward. “My baby’s too scared.” 

Holy fuck, you might be. Is he really willing to do something with you? In a public place very similar to where you’re gonna watch him play tomorrow? You don’t know why the fuck that’s attractive as hell, but it is. 

Yoongi grips your chin, eyes falling to your lips and brows knitted before claiming your lips even harder. And despite your bones vibrating to hell, you put your all into the kiss, relishing in the growing hardness you feel against your front. An animal starts to wake inside your core, and you almost feel like stroking it. Feeding it. Raising it only for it to consume you in return. 

“Fuck it, we’re leaving.” 

“Huh?” Dazed, you let your vision refocus as Yoongi chuckles at your hazy state. 

“Fuck this. I’m taking you home.” 

For some reason, the game makes you nervous today. Even while Taehyung strides into the gymnasium with you, there’s a lingering feeling swelling in your stomach, and you don’t have any reason for it yet. 

At least this is another rec center entirely. Because there’s no way you would’ve sat still knowing you had a clandestine meeting in the same place not even twenty-four hours before. 

But the activity already bustling around hardwood catches your attention. Not on both sides, since only one team is here, but they are active on the other end doing drills. 

Wow. They look really intimidating, matching jerseys that were clearly done professionally and warm-ups having a set routine. You wonder if this is gonna be a tough game for… Wait. That’s your brother under the basket. That’s them? 

Fucking hell, Yoongi was right.

Because you’ll already never get over how attractive he looks in athletic clothes.

But team jerseys? 

Seeing this man rock a basketball uniform with his toned arms and legs so visible makes you want to claw your way out of your invisible cage. 

When the hell did they even get those? And why is he already slightly drenched during the warm-up alone? 

As soon as you see him make a lay-up, you know for a fact that you shouldn’t be here. 

Yes, you’re gonna stay and yes, you’re gonna cheer for them all game. But you are absolutely gonna feel like jumping him, which will in turn make you wanna bolt and run all the way out of town every agonizing second. 

Shit, shit, shit. You’re gonna have to try your damned hardest to unstick your eyes from that man the whole time. Already, you can hear Taehyung’s teasing, and your groan is to lament your future state.

Your name suddenly rings across the gym, and four feet pause in your ascent up the bleachers. When you catch both him and Jimin waving you down from their courtside chairs, you tilt your head in intrigue. 

They want you to come over there? What the hell is this about? 

Sighing, you turn. “Guess I’ll go see what they want.” 

“Here,” Tae offers his hand. “I’ll save you a seat.” 

Your bag is transferred to his grip while you nod, and you step down onto the court, wondering if you’re even allowed to walk onto it to see them. And Jimin’s grin can be seen from miles away. “Come here!” 

You gingerly step onto shiny wooden floors, making your way over and becoming hyper aware that someone else notices your presence. But you’re so puzzled as to why there’s no one on the other side of the court yet because isn’t the game about to start? 

Where’s the other team? As you approach their row of chairs, your hands immediately find your hips. “What’s up?” 

Jimin’s eyes stay creased as your brother explains the reason he waved you down. A very stupid, very innocuous reason. “Can you keep score?” 

“Me?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Why me?” 

Your brother uses his jersey to wipe sweat from his brow, and you wince at the brand new material getting gross already. “The girl that usually does it for us is sick.” 

“And you know the game,” Jimin quickly tacks on, rubbing at some tattoos on full display. Wait, are there more than you remember? When did he get more ink?

Your sibling asks another question you had in mind, “You aren’t gonna cover those?”

“Nah. Not today,” the man elongates in a stretch. “Just got another one. This one!” 

Ah, you were right. “I like it.” 

Jimin couldn’t look more proud. But enough of that because you really just wanna go back and observe the game from another place entirely. “Can’t y’all find someone else to keep score?” 

“We don’t think anyone else can,” your brother explains, looking over your shoulder. “At least, not the people coming to watch us.” 

Cool. You get to be met with heat and sweat from all these guys without compensation. How is this something you would say yes to? “Well. I don’t really feel like being a scorekeeper for free.” 

When your sibling laughs with Jimin, they share a look before he says so matter-of-factly, “Told you.” 

You’re sticking with that. If you’re gonna sit next to a bunch of smelly people, they’re gonna pay… you… somehow.

A ways down the row, you catch Yoongi dumping himself onto a random chair, head tilted back before he hangs it forward to wipe sweat from his forehead. 

And suddenly this temporary gig doesn’t seem terrible in the slightest. 

Because one, you can sit on a team bench that will have his fine ass right there. And two, this will give you a way to objectively focus on the game. You won’t have time to be distracted by a demon and his hair that’s gotten criminally long. 

“I’ll get us all dinner,” your sibling slices through your thoughts. “After we win.”  

“Fine,” you sigh, taking the end seat and shooting one more glance to the other side of the court. “Then I get to p—”

The air around you squeezes inward. And all sounds plunge underwater. 

Because you recognize someone you knew from a dark club walking onto the court, his team looking just as sharp and cocky as his eyes. 

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. 

You don’t notice the way Jimin’s hands flex, nor the way a familiar presence walks up to join your brother. 

All you can do is stare back. 

And without even realizing. 

You’re already rubbing your arm.

-

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tbc. :((

-

a ha ha... so how do we feel? | taglist | discord!

a/n: okay, hello, loves. apologies this part took so damn long to post! can you imagine if i tried to post everything at once LMAOO yikes talk about too much at once. but i hope this part was enough to still be good on its own, and broken, pt. 2 will be... well. you can probably guess that's where a majority of my brainpower is going to go. a/n 2: thank you all for being here! it's been an amazing two years working on this series and i cannot tell you how grateful and appreciative i am to have such wonderful people alongside me. i hope this series continues to be there for you when you need it, bc it has become that for me, too. ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist  ⇥ three tangerines masterlist

[ilovebuckers5]

⋆.ೃtreat me better ࿔*:･

paige Bueckers x fem!reader

words : 3k

themes :

-angst

-18+

-comfort

warnings :

-drinking

-slight sexual content

-homophobia

A/N - I got this idea at like 2 am and it took me three days to write it but I love it tbh.

No matter how close the game was, the girls will always go out after a win. Most times I choose to not tag along since i'll probably get pushed aside. This time Paige and the girls came home more excited than usual. They made it to the final four. I was laying on the couch watching a couple episodes of friends when the doorknob of my apartment shook open. The sound of Paige's keys jingling single handily lifted me off the couches cushions. My eyes lit up even more when Paige's bright eyes met with mine.

I was originally just a trainer for Paige when she tore her ACL but during all of that, I was also trying my best to improve my volleyball career. Once I realized that being Paige's trainer would lead to a bit more, I also realized that I would get invested in everything else. Now that she was healed I tagged along the other girls, helping them out when no one was there to help with their own injuries. Finally, the season was almost over. All the other people that helped out with the teams injuries were back and ready to work. So this was my chance to get back on the volleyball court and actually pursue something. Paige was there the whole way. Anytime I would push her away so that she could focus on her own goals she would say something along the lines of "you helped me so much y/n I can't just not give anything back" and I just couldn't say no when she had that sexy of a voice. Who said that. Everything was chill, me and Paige stayed friends and we helped each other reach our goals. It felt nice to have such a good friend by my side with all that I was going through.

Paige walked through the door and her bright blue eyes met mine. She had a couple tears of joy in her eyes ready to fall and once they did I was ready to gently wipe them away. I wrapped my arms around her torso while hers were lifting me up in the air. Wow she never did that before. A loud giggle left my mouth when i noticed that I was in the air now. The blondes arms had a tight grip on my waist, keeping me up with stability. When she finally let me down all she did was jump around the living room like a child. "Did you see me and Nika's blocks?" She yelled across the room while I stood in place with my hands on my hips. A very entertained look was on my face while I watched Paige leap through the living room. "Yes i did! I saw everything!" I rushed up to Paige to hold her in place and calm her down. Before I could pull her into another hug, our phones buzzed at the same time. Paige pulled hers out first and looked down at a text from KK asking if we were up for a party tonight. Without hesitation Paige grabbed onto my wrists and shook them around while begging for me to come with. "Are you serious Paige? We do this every time, i don't like parties...." Paige kept on whining while giving me puppy dog eyes. I guess this once wouldn't be bad.

WRONGGGG

So I gave in and went to my bathroom to get ready. Most of Paige's stuff was here already so she didn't bother going back to the teams house to get ready. I spent around 45 minutes getting ready. I don't know why. It's not like there would be anyone important there. It's just a party. Nothing more. I dragged the mascara wand against my eyelashes while blinking to dry them quicker. I took one last look in the mirror before going to my closet to pick out an outfit. My eyes were immediately drawn to a black tube top and some jean shorts. It was probably going to be cold outside so I grabbed a red zip up to cover my bare collarbones and shoulders. The only shoes I could find were my red converse which I was kind of lucky to have. I walked out of my walk-in closet to find Paige sitting on the edge of my bed, putting on a pair of shoes. The moment i stepped out, Paige's eyes were very obviously clinging to my body. She tried to hide the fact that she was staring hard at my top by complimenting me quickly. "Shit you look good! Everyone's gonna be on you..." Her words dragged on with very clear tones of jealousy. She was wearing a pair of jeans and a red button up flannel. Fuck me.

Once I had grabbed my purse and some lip balm, Paige held my hand while walking out the door and I locked it behind us. We walked over to Paige's car and the moment we got inside it was Drake on repeat. She sadly grabbed the aux before I could. The entire drive was filled with Paige's voice cracking every other lyric and me pretending to not know every line. The bar that the girls decided to be at seemed way nicer than the others. Of course I may have not been out either the girls a lot but the times that I was, most of the places they partied at were just a tad bit sketchy. Paige parked her car next to Aubrey's and stepped out of the car before brushing off her shirt by sliding her hands down her chest. She clearly wanted to look presentable. The second I heard Chase Atlantic playing on the speakers I couldn't resist from singing, almost screaming, to the lyrics. I waved to a couple of the girls who were sitting at a booth right ahead of me and Paige.

"What took ya'll so long?" KK said before shoving Paige's shoulder with a wide smile on her face. "This one did" Paige said gesturing behind her to me. "She must have someone to impress huh" Ice teased me while poking at my hip. I let out a forced laugh knowing that they were right. "Nuh uhhh. I just like doing my makeup to go out..." I lied quickly. Before anyone could make anymore remarks on how i cared about my appearance, Nika came around the corner with a plate of shots for everyone. I jumped up once she set down the cup and wrapped my arms around her back. "NIKA!" I squealed, clinging myself onto Nika's body. She leaned back a little, almost falling back from the intensity of my hug. "Woah! Heyyy!" Her arms settled around my waist, melting into my back. My eyes were shut against Nika's skin but when I opened them I saw Paige staring the both of us down with not an ounce of happiness on her face. I tried my best to not react but jesus it was hard. Is Paige Bueckers, my best friend, jealous that i'm hugging her teammate? Or am I just tweaking.

I stepped away from Nika and gave her a squeeze on her forearm before pulling Paige to the side and whispering to her. "You good? You looked pissed at me just right now." She did nothing but nod. Just a simple nod. She took a sip of her drink before going over to talk with Azzi. I looked around the building to see if there were any other girls scattered around the place but for the most part everyone seemed to be in the same place. I walked up to the table of our booth and took a shot before leaning my head on Paige's shoulder. Most people viewing from afar would think that we were dating but I swear we have no feelings for each other. Paige doesn't at least. I had been messing around with the short sleeve of Paige's flannel when I felt someone tap my shoulder. I spun around to find one of my old volleyball teammates staring at me. I didn't realize it was her until she gave me that 'bitch do you not know me' look. I gasped louder than ever before wrapping my arms around the girl. "Oh my God Liv?! What are you doing here?" I squealed while pulling myself out of the hug. "I transferred a couple months ago! I saw on your Instagram that you went here and decided to surprise you. Plus my boyfriend plays for the basketball team so..." I turned around to pull Paige over in Liv's direction to introduce the two girls. "Paige this is Liv!" I say, frantically tapping the blondes shoulder. "Remember we played volleyball together in high school?" Paige was silent but seemed chill. She just kept of nodding in agreement with the same enthusiasm I was giving her. "I'm gonna go catch up with her ok? Don't dance without me p!" I yelled out while walking across the bar to sit down with a couple of Liv's friends.

I ended up sitting between her and a brunette guy. I didn't want to rude, so I introduced myself to him before Liv could. "Hey I'm y/n." I held my hand out in front of the guy. He looked at me in the eye, making me notice that his eyes were even more blue than Paige's. Damn. He held onto my hand and shook it for what felt like longer than needed. He had a shy smile on his lips and did anything he could to not break eye contact with me. "I'm Carter." It felt like our hands were melting together before he pulled away to look at Liv. "Carter this is y/n!" Apparently me and Carter were quiet enough for people to not realize that we already knew each other by now. "Oh yeah she introduced herself already." He pointed his thumb to the side, motioning to me. A little time passed that was filled with mindless drunken conversations. My head had slowly fallen on Carter's shoulder and It took me by surprise when he didn't shove me off. So I pretended to sleep soundly when I was really listening in on whatever nonsense every what talking about now. I slowly tried to inch my arm through Carter's to loop our limbs together. This is when he knew that I wasn't asleep, he gently moved his arm away from his hip for me to fit my arms through before closing in on my arms. What the fuck am I doing. Now I tried my best to act tired when he tapped me "awake." I sat up and looked around while rubbing my eyes gently enough to not smudge any mascara. "I think I'm gonna head home now." Liv snapped her head to me and furrowed her eyebrows. "What why? We've only hung out for a little bit." She whined. "I don't know I'm just tired already." I groaned while standing up and grabbing my purse. I was about to leave when I felt Carter's strong hand hold onto mine while he lifted himself up. "Let me drive you home."

Me and Carter were halfway to exit when I remember that Paige was probably still waiting for me. Just as we were going to cross the booth that Paige and her team were at I changed my mind. "Actually Carter I'm sorry but I have a friend that goes home with me and I cant leave her alone." His expression changed immediately.

"I'm sure she'll be fine." He had his hand wrapped my wrist now.

"Seriously I would feel so shitty if I just left her." I laughed off what started to feel like fear.

"No. Come on stop being ridiculous, you need to get home." His hand started to tighten around my skin.

"Carter can you stop. Just let me go home with her." I started to try and shake my arm out of his grip.

"Y/n just fucking stop. Lets go." He tugged on my wrist, trying to lead me out the door. This was perfect timing for me to be in the girls' sight now.

"Shit! Carter let me go!" I stopped walking and stood still while trying to pry his hand off of my wrist.

Finally Paige looked up and saw what was going on. Not a single ounce of hesitation crossed her mind. She stood up and rushed over to me. "Hey man let her fucking go!" She stormed in Carter face while holding a hand around my waist, pulling me away from the brunette. Carter was startled away by the 5'11 girl that had just as much confidence and more than his own. I had a couple tear in my waterline but quickly got rid of them by blinking and wiping the wet streaks of of my face. "Woah back off, I'm just trying to take her home." Carter snapped at Paige. "No, fuck off." Paige turned around with me in her grasp and walked back over to the booth. Everyone but Caroline didn't even realize what just happened. "Fine, I wouldn't want to fuck a dyke anyway." Carter yelled back at both me and Paige. It took everything in me to not turn around and swing at Carter. So Paige did it for me. she threw a hard punch right at the brunettes nose, knocking him back against the floor. "Jesus Paige!" I wrapped my hands around both of her arms and pulled her away. Her adrenaline faded away in less than a second but I swear I could still see fume flowing out of her ears. She winced while rubbing her knuckle back and forth. "Lets go." Paige said coldly while look down at Carters now bloody face. I nodded silently before holding onto her hand and walking the two of us out the exit door. Surprisingly, Paige hand gotten even a little tipsy that night. As much as I didn't want to make her drive, I didn't want to get into a crash at 12 am so Paige drove me to my apartment and unlocked the door. "Paige no. come in." I refused to let her drop me off and deal with whatever anger was built up in her alone.

I practically dragged Paige out of the car and through my door. She seemed more drunk than I was right now. I walked her to my bathroom and tapped on the counter, gesturing for her to sit down on it. She lifted herself up and winced again after putting pressure of her wounded hand. Her legs were swinging back and forth while she fidgeted with her own thumbs and I grabbed a first-aid kit and some rubbing alcohol. Her legs were spread just enough for me to fit myself in-between. I rested against her thigh while holding her fist in my hand and gently swiping away the excess blood. "This is gonna hurt." Were the only words I let out from when she punched Carter to when we almost fell asleep. I dabbed a cotton ball soaked with rubbing alcohol on the very tip of her knuckle, causing Paige's head to tilt back while she swayed her feet a bit more aggressively. "Shit!" she whined a bit before I pulled the cotton ball away and threw it in the trash can. Now that her fist was clean I could've just left it like that. I could've cleaned up the mess, put everything away and go to sleep. But of course I had to raise her hand up to my lips and place a gentle kiss on her knuckle. A lingering smell and taste of rubbing alcohol transferred to my lips but I tried to hide that. When I looked up, Paige's eye were locked onto mine. I did everything in me to attempt to look away but before I could I felt Paige's soft lips pressed into mine. I quickly got more comfortable with the kiss and slowly moved my hands to wrap around Paige's waist. I tilted my head to the side to perfectly fit her nose in between my eye socket and my own nose. She pulled away gently to look at me and protest what just happened. "I'm sorry-"

"Shut the fuck up."

I moved my hand up to Paige jawline and continued to wrap my lips around hers. I could feel that she didn't want to pull away but felt like she had the need to. "Sit up." I whispered through kisses and that she did. Paige stood up and moved her hands around my back, slowly moving them closer to my ass. I led her to my room and shut the door behind me before pushing her against the bed. I unlatched our lips to speak one more time.

"How long have you wanted to do this?"

"Long fucking time."

"I know."

I let my tongue slip in between Paige's lips, tangling itself with her own. Her hands were now running a long my back under my shirt. I pulled away for one last second to take of my shoes and jacket before fully crawling on top of Paige's lap and placing kisses down her neck and collarbones. Soft whines escaped the blondes mouth as I move closer to the opening of her flannel. Without removing my lips from her skin, I unbuttoned the flannel to reveal just a black sports bra. I looked up at Paige, giving her a look that was waiting for approval to take off her bra. She nodded eagerly giving me the chance to take it off. I couldn't help but stare at her tits before moving my lips further down her chest now reach her stomach. I traced my lips against each toned ab that she had. I could feel her stomach flexing against my mouth once I reached her bikini line. Now I gently unzipped her jeans and slipped them down her legs before tossing them to the side. The only noise I heard were the desperate whines leaving Paige's mouth, getting louder the lower I moved my lips. I practically tore her boxers off.

This is what I needed.

[cloudmancy]

I have no desire to get you in trouble but I would be curious to hear your thoughts on the new episode and the preview because I also have.. thoughts and I'm interested in what other people clocked as not great or kinda.. idk. other people's concerns, because I have had a lot of them and I never see people really talk about those things

they're doing a new format this season where they film a bunch of rp episodes in a row then take a break when there's a battle so the crew can get the battleset ready, so I understand the dissonance. but the tone of this episode from the tone of last episode was SO jarring. I was ready to chew drywall at the end of episode 17 but we head into the episode 18 fight and at the end all I can say is... damn! that sure is a battle that happened. the entire fight felt really low-stakes even though objectively a few of the bad kids were in mortal danger, but the mood at the table was so relaxed and chill and there was almost no roleplay at all... which drove me so crazy

>no rp except for fun silly party stuff (no callbacks to the adaine elven oracle in a storm thing? after all the fun setup last time??)

>fought 8 different antagonists and none of them said a word

>nobody questioned why or what oisin's grandma or all those dragon were doing there they just started taking them out one by one like raid battles in world of warcraft

>cassandra/nightmare king showed up only to not make any impact or get a single word in

>dos2 lady vengeance fight did the floating boat/ballistas/dragon fight better SMH

and then after all of that we're headed straight into ANOTHER battle episode judging by the preview... and it's against the rat grinders and porter/jace! let me out I want PLOT & DIALOGUE fhjy cannot end like this (5 hours straight of battle where they just kill everyone that moves). there's 2 eps left so I really hope they do the last ep as a 4 hour long roleplay only epilogue episode because as we've all seen ending campaigns on a battle leads to frankly really rushed character and world decisions. it's ultra disappointing too because I loved this entire season so much so far. the setup and buildup and plot points and mystery of fhjy is the best they've ever done it in dimension 20 period

ep 18 fhjy battle was a letdown to me... not giving the party an rp episode after 3 hours of loredump + going straight into a final battle without being able to interact with the world after gaining info is bad. they should've had a chance to process everything they learned about house sunstone, porter's plan, the rat grinders being used as ascension fodder, whatever the whole deal behind ambrosia and lucy frostkettle and why they needed a helios cleric in buddy IN ROLEPLAY. I don't want all this stuff explained to me after the battle by brennan or in some throwaway lines in the adventuring party - I want the bad kids to talk to people! I want them to investigate! I want fig to pull some BS with porter knowing the full extent of all his plans. it really sucks for us as an audience too to be hit with all this lore and get approximately 0 time for it to sink into the implications of how the worldbuilding was shaped by it or realizations of "ohhh that's why that happened at the beginning of the season" before we go straight into killing everyone.

with the way this is going I don't have any confidence they're gonna be able to actually empathize at all with the rat grinders too before they start lopping heads off because in battle episodes everyone kind of just. becomes numbers and an objective to take out except for pet favourite npcs of the cast. and they've mostly been interacting with the rat grinders as nuisances all season 😭 I'm PRAYING to be proven wrong and the last 2 episodes of this are fantastic but it's not looking good folks

[lonelym00n]

Max Fox x Reader - Headcannons

this is for all the max fox girlies out there. if you're a mikey madison fan and haven't watched better things just for her, shame on u.

this is likely going to contain max snippets from every season, so don't read if you care about spoilers.

GO WATCH BETTER THINGS!! seriously it's a really good show about a single mother raising three daughters.

also, LOOK AT BABY MIKEY. LOOK AT HER.

Pre-relationship

when max isn't with paisley or her boyfriend of the week, she's with you

you're the most chill of all her friends so she hangs out with you mostly when she doesn't feel like causing her mom an aneurism

sam loves you more than max's other friends

you always thank her for her hospitality and do the dishes for her if she cooks when you're around

max's favorite thing about you is that she doesn't feel the need to worry about if you think she seems cool or not

you love watching old movies with max because she always has such thoughtful comments on the cinematography

you always arrive early to her band's gigs just so you can cheer her on from the front row

you are max's personal Lyft driver when you get your license (sam is thankful that the bill has gone down significantly)

How you catch feelings

you fall for max first

your feelings for her start when she begins opening up to you about her dad and how much her parent's divorce has affected her

she tells you about the jealousy she holds for how much she has to share her mom with her mom's job and her two sisters

she also opens up about how she has no clue what to do once she graduates

you tell her that sam loves her just as much as she did before her sisters were born and that there's no rush to decide what path she wants to choose post-graduation

you realize your feelings for max when she surprises you by playing your favorite song on the guitar

the smile she gave you after she finished playing made your heart leap into your throat

you knew you had it bad for her after that

Unrequited feelings

you're too much of a chicken to admit your feelings to max because you don't want to ruin your friendship

you are horrified when she starts dating the 34 year old man, you tell yourself that it's not because you're jealous, but because max is only 16 (it's definitely because you're jealous)

max cried on your shoulder when she learned her dad had stood her up on her graduation day

you threaten to train chewy to bite him for the next time he shows up to interrupt her life

she laughs and your heart skips a beat at the sound

when max tells you about her decision to go to college in Chicago, you try not to cry (let's pretend you chose to go to college somewhere in LA)

you do cry when you drop her and sam off at the airport on their way to Chicago (cry is putting it lightly, you full on sobbed into max's shirt)

Other people notice your feelings

with max off at college, you have a hard time figuring out what to do with yourself when you aren't attending classes

you take to moping around the fox's house

frankie is the first to catch onto your feelings for max, after seeing you sniffle pitifully into a carton of ice cream for the third weekend in a row, they figured you must've loved max more than you let on

frankie doesn't say anything to you about their realization, concluding that you probably hadn't yet registered that you harbored more than friendly thoughts for max

sam doesn't question why she keeps finding you fast asleep on her living room couch, so she remains none the wiser about your love for her daughter

when max calls you crying one night and tells you about how she doesn't think college is right for her, it takes everything in your willpower not to encourage her to hop on the next flight back to LA

you tell her she has to make the decision on her own but that you will wholeheartedly support her either way

when she does return, you don't even hide how ecstatic you are

the pain of hiding your feelings for her does return, but it's nothing compared to how heartbroken you felt while she was away

when she starts dating olivier, you feel more depressed than you do jealous

max notices your more frequent sad moods and her heart pangs dejectedly whenever she asks if you're okay and you brush her off

you feel lost and decide to confide in rich about your love for max, you always thought he was such a good second dad to her

he isn't fully surprised at your feelings for the other girl, having sensed that something more was likely going on between you two

he's so happy that you decided to tell him and offers you words of advice that he had picked up from being in similar situations to yours

from that moment on, he's silently rooting for you and max to get together

Max realizes her feelings for you

with her new love for photography, she innocently invited both you and paisley to model for an idea that she wanted to shoot

paisley agrees excitedly while you agree with more reluctance

the pictures with paisley turn out great

when it's your turn, max is in utter awe at how gently your beauty comes across in the photos

you fit the image she had wanted to capture so perfectly and as she continues to photograph you, her heart thumps wildly in her chest

the slow groundbreaking realization of the love she so deeply holds for you creeps up her spine

she pushes you away the next week and the week after that, filled with panic

now that she has figured out how she feels about you, she knows she'll never be able to hide it from you

you feel hurt that max is avoiding you, but you figure it's because she's spending more time with her boyfriend (max didn't tell you that she had broken up with him directly after the photoshoot)

max tells rich about her feelings for you and he only just barely manages to hide his joy at the news

he reassures her there's nothing wrong with the way she feels about you and that her family would accept and support her regardless

after a week of gathering up her nerve (and a third week of avoiding you), she reveals her feelings for you to sam

sam is shocked but reassures max that she is so happy and proud

when max falls asleep for the night, sam rushes to frankie's room for advice on ways that she could be there for max

Confession

one morning, frankie urges max to confess to you

needless to say, max is pissed at sam for telling frankie

a big fight starts between the three of them (max upset with sam for telling frankie, sam mad at frankie for telling max that she had told them about it, and frankie yelling at max to just tell you how she felt)

you, completely fed up with being avoided by max, stomp into the fox household to give the girl a piece of your mind

the fighting comes to a halt when you walk in the door, frankie and sam quickly scurry away

just as you're about to speak, max gently grabs your arm and tugs you outside with her

she shushes all your attempts to talk and apologies for avoiding you

she looks nervous and so uncharacteristically max as she takes your hand in hers

when she tells you she was avoiding you because she realized she was in love with you, you nearly forget how to breathe

she looks at you so worriedly while she waits for your response

when you tell her you feel the same, her eyes crinkle in happiness

max leans closer and the two of you share a soft kiss

max lovers you better cause some commotion in the comments!! she needs more love and I won't be silent about it anymore!

[randomfoggytiger]

Collector's Edition: Reworking Requiem and Mulder's Return (Part IV)

More Requiem AUs!

Loose chronological order below~

Katherinexx1's Miracle

He didn't notice it right away, but she had created this heart-shaped figure on her belly placing her hand next to his.

Pre-Requiem: Scully finds out the big news before Mulder leaves for Oregon again.

JET's (mulderscreek, tumblr, freeservers) Snippet Fic

She conceded, "So our track record has been iffy at best during the most recent Decembers. But last year wasn't too bad."

"Yeah, I think the highlight of the month was when I was attacked by zombies."

Pre-Requiem: There is no baby, and no abduction-- only Scully picking up Mulder during the holidays.

XPhileChai's Life is like a new case - you never know what you're gonna get.

She opened her eyes and met his. He saw the change in her eyes go from "calm and happy" to "oh, yeah, I'm in a car on a stakeout".

Pre-Requiem: Mulder rushes Scully to the hospital, where they discover she miscarried one of two babies.

@alsoablankslate/tabulaxrasa 's (LJ, tripod) Things Outside

The sun was setting, and the sky was a wide swath of indigo out the kitchen window. Sometimes it was very beautiful here. Summer here was like springtime in DC, maybe. How you were always conscious of it, of the rightness of the season, the perfect fit of area and temperature and color and the smell of the air.

They couldn't find out about the baby.

Pre-Requiem: Mulder is never abducted-- instead, he and Scully are put under house arrest.

@myownsuperintendent (Ao3)

“Marry Me” (Ao3)

He hadn’t expected her to say that soon, but he knows she means it.  Her practicality makes him smile.

Pre-Requiem: Mulder recalls how he and Scully discovered her pregnancy before he left for Oregon; and decides to seal their partnership with a proposal. 

Fic: “No Secrets” (Ao3)

“You could have died if I hadn’t gone back and looked at your medical records from last year.  If I hadn’t figured out what was happening and how to reverse it.  And you…you weren’t going to tell me?”  Her voice is no longer even now, but she’s not yelling either; it sounds like all the air has gone out of her.

“I didn’t think there was anything we could do about it,” he says, but he realizes how stupid that is even as he’s saying it. 

Post Requiem: Scully not only finds Mulder after his return but also heals his brain disease. 

@drbedeliadumaurier/heartsfilthylesson's scully finds out she's pregnant before mulder leaves/isolated systems - Chapter 2

Beside her in a near-stranger’s living room, Mulder seems both somber and hopeful. He reaches for her hand and Scully knows his thoughts are filled with stolen ova and failed IVF and the child she lost and the one he’s not aware she’ll have. She needs to tell him.

Pre-Requiem: Scully knows, and decides to tell Mulder the news after her chills in Bellefleur.

Donna/donnah’s (Gossamer, mulderscreek) Alternatives

"I just, I just . . . I just hit the ground."

"Just lie still."

"Why is this happening to me?" He brushed a tear that escaped her eye and trailed down her cheek.

Requiem: Mulder drags Scully to the hospital.

Pattie’s Erlenmeyer Injustice

Not a day goes by that I don't think of the implications of this job, and especially this partnership. The knowledge that one or both of us might be killed or permanently injured in the line of duty hides in the backdrop, waiting to be cast and played out, by directors unknown.

Requiem: Mulder chooses to leave with the alien ship.

@tatooedlaura-blog/tatooedlaura/Laura Sprys's Oregon

The pull to go to them overwhelmed …

The need to join, to stand in the light, defied nature …

But he remained rooted in place.

Requiem: Mulder doesn't leave with the ship, and is panicked after receiving a panicked phone call from TLG.

xphilernj’s (Ao3, Two Close for Comfort) Find the Future - Chapter 1

Upon their arrival at Dulles International Airport in D.C., Mulder was fit to be tied and Skinner was ready to clamp the handcuffs on him and throw Mulder in the trunk of his car.

Requiem: Mulder rushes back to Scully’s side.

Maidenjedi's Would That I Could Travel Both

She held her breath as his arms wrapped around her, and felt his reluctance to leave her as much as his eagerness to go, to discover, to find the all-encompassing Truth.

Requiem: Amidst a selection of AUs, Mulder didn't get his answers but did have a happy ending.

Erin M. Blair’s The Blessing

He stood in the doorway of her hospital room and walked toward the chair by the bed. Pulling it as close to the bed as possible, he sat gingerly on the chair's edge, then gently held her hand in his.

Requiem: Scully floors Mulder with her pregnancy news.

bellefleur’s "Arms Wide Open"

I look over to see my partner's mother standing a few feet away from me, stock still and drained of color, with her hand covering her mouth. It's takes me a minute, but as I register the fact that her first sight was of me sitting in the hallway with my head in my hands, and then with obvious tear tracks on my face, I begin to comprehend her reaction. She must have immediately thought the worst.

Requiem: Mulder hears the news from Scully; and panics, fleeing the room. Maggie helps him get his head in the game. 

dmwones's Anagrams

"We can attempt to stabilize Dana for as long as possible. Give her blood transfusions, and corticosteroids. One to treat the low platelets, the other to help the fetus' lungs mature. But it's not a cure. Her body is under duress and HELLP syndrome is life-threatening. We can maybe buy a few extra days. But you're going to have to make a decision."

Requiem: In one of many AUs, Mulder is never abducted; but Scully and their baby still suffer complications.

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

[writersmacchiato]

family ties | Gerard Pitts

warning but not really; mentions/alludes to bad home life for reader :(((( but it’s honestly nothing explicitly stated <3 not proof read!!

sidenote: for everyone in the winter season (happy first day of winter btw!!!), I so recommend finding a sunny spot outside and sitting out there with a blanket and a hot drink and soak in the sun.

. . .

Gerard Pitts happens to stumble upon you while you’re sitting on the back steps of the school. A warm blanket draped over you shoulders and protecting you from the chill. The sunlight washes over you in a glow and his heart skips a beat at the beauty you are.

A steaming cup of something rests in your hands, your eyes transfixed on nothing in particular but the cloudless blue sky above you.

Your face is blank, giving nothing away.

Well, to anyone that wasn’t him but he knows you, doesn’t he?

He notices the slump of your shoulders, marring your usual prefect posture. The slight down curve of your lips, the slightest of tension between your brows.

You’re upset and stewing in it.

“Good morning.” He approaches loudly, steps crunching on gravel to announce his presence first.

“Good morning, Pitts.” To your credit, your small smile seems genuine enough so he takes a seat beside you. Arms almost touching, but he doesn’t close the distance. Not yet.

“Lovely morning.” He says, cupping his hands to blow hot air into them. It is very chilly, but the frost covering the ground and trees was beautiful. He could see why you came here often.

You hum in agreement, otherwise motionless from the small sips from your cup.

“How is the family?” He decides to stop beating around the bush.

It’s not a secret, at least to him, that you struggle with the time spent with your family. And that you had a dinner with them yesterday.

You make a noise, somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. “Oh, just the usual dinner and show.”

“And, your sister?”

At the mention of her, you slump against his side, head leaning on his shoulder. Letting out a long groan that makes him laugh.

“The usual, then?” He supplies when you take to silence once more.

He knows that you sit with your thoughts and feelings too much, let them fester within unspoken until it becomes too much. He’s also learning how to slowly creep out the feelings, how to spin the words out. Knows that you trust him in a way you haven’t had before.

“The fucking usual.” You pause, before the words spill out in a sudden rush. “She’s just so… mean! She’s mean all the time! And if I ever try to say anything, she gets mad at me. It’s exhausting being around her because I never know if she will strike out or be nice.”

Pitts moves his arm to wrap around you, in a one sided hug. He’s met your sister and knows how cruel she can be, both intentionally and unintentionally.

“And, then winter break is coming up and I don’t want to be home at all. I hate it there. My parents are already so… them. And my sister is in an extra horrible mood. It will be torture.”

“You know, you’re always welcome to come home with me.” To me.

You allow yourself to indulge the fantasy. Having been to his family’s estate many times before. His mother is very welcoming and kind, his father is somewhat aloof and awkward but in a charming way.

The kitchen would smell like freshly baked cookies, the scent wafting through the house. You could curl up by the fireplace, reading anything you desired from their extensive library.

Traipsing through the woods around the estate, freshly fallen snow making it a winter wonderland. Building snowpeople and and trying to sneak a ball of snow down his coat. Hoping for the coldest temperatures so the pond will freeze frostily for ice-skating, hands numb from cold except where his hands hold yours.

Looking through his wardrobe, selecting his coziest sweaters to wear to bed. Running through the halls in wool socks and seeing who can slide the furthest.

Warm dinners with his family, gathered together. Watching the way the candlelight flickers over his face, sneaking glances and smiling when you catch him doing the same.

Maybe he would kiss you under the mistletoe. Because his family is the type to hang up mistletoe and he would pretend to be oblivious to the fact that he hung up the very plant you now stand under together and you would let him.

“I would like that very much, Gerard Pitts.”

[abyssal-ali]

'tis the damn season

Pairing: Luka Couffaine x Marinette Dupain-Cheng

Rating: T | Ao3 | Masterlist

WC: 3.8k

A/N: For my wonderful Twinsie @wildbookcat 💜 Beta'd by @sneksnacc

Tiny flakes of powdery snow danced through the air, carried around by the whims of the wind. Luka envied their carelessness. Somehow, he had ended up at the Charles de Gaulle International Airport, waiting for his high school ex-girlfriend, who was also his little sister’s best friend, and thus someone he couldn’t avoid.

It wasn’t even that he was still heartbroken about the end of their ill-fated relationship (lie), or that they had ended on bad terms (was both parties being broken-hearted and depressed for the next several months ‘bad terms’?), the issue was that he didn’t know how Marinette was going to react.

They were now both adults, had a collective handful of ended relationships under their belts, and were mature enough to look past that summer, right?

Another gust of wind blew through the man-made wind tunnel–aka the main doors exiting the airport–and caused a shiver to go down Luka’s back. He was still affected by his reptilian Miraculous, though he’d returned it after Hawkmoth had been defeated seven years ago. He wondered how Marinette would deal with the snow and chill when she arrived, since she was even more attuned to her Miraculous than he had been, and she continued to wield the gems occasionally. Ladybugs didn’t like the cold either.

The doors slid open, another batch of travellers entering the snowy grey afternoon with a shiver.

A pink pom-pom caught his eye, and Luka stepped out of the car to wave at its owner.

“Marinette!”

Her head turned to him, surprise overtaking her features, before being replaced by a smile. “Luka!”

Her cheeks were already flushing pink, matching her coat and hat, Luka noticed when she stepped back from la bise. He picked up her suitcase, slung her bag over his arm, and motioned towards his blue VW Golf.

“Your parents were busy with the holiday rush, so they asked me to come get you when I was over there saying hi yesterday,” Luka explained, getting into the driver’s seat once he’d stored her things in the hatch.

“Couldn’t stay away from their pain au chocolat, huh?” Marinette teased him easily.

Luka exhaled soundlessly as he pulled away. Maybe this would go okay, after all.

“You know it. So, how long are you here for?”

Marinette settled back in her seat. “I’m not actually sure. I want something new, but old…no, familiar, at the same time.”

Luka hummed. “I hope you find it.”

“Thanks. So, why are you here? It’s been a while since either of us were in Paris,” she commented, blowing hot air on the window and doodling hearts and smiles with her fingertip.

“I thought it was time. Haven’t seen Ma and Juleka in a while, and I have friends here I wanted to catch up with. I’m currently on a break from producing, so I figured now was as good a time as any.”

“Right,” Marinette agreed. “It’s nice to see you again.”

And now the awkwardness was seeping through the car.

“You too; it’s been awhile,” he said softly. “I’m always happy to see you.”

Even if it hurts when I don’t.

Her gaze darted down to her mittenless hands, fidgeting with her short, buffed nails. Luka could see the calluses from being constantly pricked on the pads of her fingers; a thin red scrape on the side of her hand likely came from brushing against a pincushion the wrong way.

The snowflakes had gradually become larger and more frequent, so Luka turned on the wipers.

“So, I saw you snagged the honour of designing Clara’s outfit for the Grammys next year,” he commented to break the silence.

Usually, he was fine with silence, especially around Marinette, who often needed it, but right now he was acting very unlike himself. Coming back to Paris had stirred up all these old feelings and actions, and he cursed it in his mind.

“Yeah. I’m hoping coming back here will provide some inspiration. I want to pay homage to her roots,” Marinette explained. “We could go for a drive around all our old haunts, maybe. Oh, but you’ll probably be busy, sorry. I can drive around.”

“I’m not that busy.” He blurted the words before he thought. “You still don’t have a license, right? I don’t mind being your chauffeur.”

The snowflakes appeared to have come from Marinette’s sparkling eyes. “Thank you, Luka!” She watched him drive in silence for a while. “You haven’t really changed, even though you’re famous.”

He flicked a glance at her, slowing down for a red light. “You think so?”

She nodded. “You look older now, because you are, obviously, and your image-controlling people have changed your appearance somewhat, but at your core you’re still the same Luka I know from seven years ago.”

The light turned green, and Luka wondered if it was a sign for one delusional second before he pressed the gas again.

“Is that a compliment or not, Mari?” he asked, settling for a teasing inquisition instead.

‘It’s a good thing!” she insisted. “Okay, you’ve matured, but your essence is the same. You’re like…like a nice red wine! Aging improves a good thing!”

“Oh, so you’re calling me old now?”

Mari sputtered. “That’s not what I said at all! And men say women take things too seriously! Pfft!”

Luka couldn’t hold back his laugh as Marinette crossed her arms, her puffy jacket turning her into  a cocoon of pink.

“I know what you meant, Mari; thank you for the compliment.”

She sniffed at the traces of humour in his penitent tone, but uncurled her arms.

“There’s the bakery. We should just have missed the closing rush,” Luka glanced at the clock on the dashboard. “Have a good time, Marinette.”

“Thank you, you too! Oh, you can text me when you want to go for a drive. I still use the same number.”

“0-474-152-772?”

A wave of pink coated her cheeks. “You still remember it?”

I stare at it for a good half hour every week debating calling you or not. Of course I know it; it’s seared into my memory.

“Yep. I kept my old number too.” He popped the trunk and lifted her bags out.

“0-516-352-772?”

“Yep. Say hi to your parents for me!” 

He placed her bags just inside the door, and then beat a hasty retreat. Why do you still remember my number? 

~~~

How could she forget his number, when it spelled out her name?

Marinette sighed, waved goodbye at Luka’s car, then shut the door, ready to greet her parents.

“Maman! Papa! Guess who’s home!”

“Marinette! Sweetie, you made it!” Once the overwhelming hugs and bises had been exchanged, her parents looked curiously at the empty space behind her. “Luka got you here safely?” asked Sabine.

Mari nodded. “He was waiting for me at the airport; he asked me to say hi to you for him. He said you were busy with the holiday rush.”

Tom agreed. “We were sorry to miss picking you up, but our seasonal helper was sick, so we weren’t able to close and get you after all. Luka coming by and being free was fortunate.”

“It was nice to catch up with him,” Mari agreed. “I’ll just bring my bags up to my room and then we can catch up while we make dinner?”

“That sounds good,” agreed Sabine. Tom brought the luggage up, then left Mari to settle in after one more hug.

Looking around her room, Mari smiled at the remembrance of all the memories she had made in the pink space. Pictures clothespinned to her wall of fairy lights danced in the breeze as she twirled, releasing a deep breath and closing her eyes at the peace of being home again.

She could feel the ideas coming for Clara’s outfits.

It was a brilliant idea to come back to Paris.

~~~

It was a horrible idea to come back to Paris.

Why had he said yes to picking Marinette up?

Why had he said yes to driving Marinette around?

Why had he answered her text as soon as she sent it, at 2:08 am?

Why had he showed up at her door at 7:30 am, why had he let Tom drag him to the kitchen and feed him pastries (okay, that one was self-explanatory), why had he lingered and chatted, why why why.

The answer to all his questions was sitting in the passenger seat of the car he was borrowing from a friend, looking devastatingly beautiful and chattering away about how things had changed since she had left, a year before he had, and contrasting it to Los Angeles.

If he’d wanted to hear about her failed relationships after she defeated Hawkmoth, broke up with him, and moved away, he would have asked.

Luka was well aware that he was sulking, but he didn’t care at this moment. They were driving by College Francois Dupont, and the memories of that time weren’t the most pleasant.

“Ooh, I have an idea! Can you park here? I want to walk around for a bit.”

Luka dutifully pulled over, parking in an empty space between the school and the Methodist church down the block.

Marinette strolled around the quiet street, the fluffy flakes floating down muffling her footsteps and muttered monologue. 

She returned to him eventually, scribbling away at her sketchbook.

Luka’s hand raised before he realised what he was doing. 

“Luka? What are you doing?”

He blinked down at her, his hand frozen as she glanced up at him from under her bangs.

“You, um, snow-”

Why was he making this awkward? Biting the bullet, he gently brushed the accumulated snow off the top of Marinette’s ponytail.

She flashed him a smile and climbed back into her seat.

“Where to next, Mari?”

~~~

“So, any plans for your break?” Mari clutched a mug of cocoa in her hands, careful not to drop it over the edge of her balcony on the head of some unsuspecting passersby out admiring the lights.

Luka leaned his back against the balcony, blowing on his own mug. “I haven’t made anything firm yet, but I expect my schedule will fill up rather quickly.”

Mari hummed. “I guess I should book our hangouts while you’ve still got room for me then, Mr. Hot-Demand.”

“I’ll always have room for you, Mari.”

She smiled at him before turning back to the cityscape. “I’ve missed this view.”

The real view nudged her shoulder. “Old memories coming back, huh? I’m glad you’re able to miss it, Mar.”

“Did you miss it?” She turned on her back to be companionably side-to-side with him.

“The city? Not so much. The people in it? Yeah, I missed them a lot.”

She nodded in understanding. “Did you miss the people who weren’t in it, too?”

He sipped his cocoa. “Everyday.”

~~~

Marinette opened her eyes, breathing deeply. There was nothing like a full ten hours of sleep in your childhood room, warm and cozy under blankets as the snow drifted by the window hypnotizingly, your secret love snuggled up beside you-

Oh yeah, she’d made Luka stay the night, saying it was too cold to walk back home as her excuse to have him sleep here. Her fingers brushed a teal lock back from his forehead as she took in his peaceful features. Honestly, they weren’t much different from his usual everyday expressions. She envied his calm, never being able to stay still for long. 

Luka shifted, blinking sleepily at her, a sleepy smile curving his lips. “Morning, Mari.”

His arm raised to trace a feather-light path down her cheek to cup her neck and pull her towards him.

She let him guide her closer, her breath catching in her throat.

“Mari, if you’re up, could you help out at the register for a bit?” called Sabine through the door.

Luka jerked away and Mari rolled out of bed with a thump. “Be there in a minute, Maman!”

“Are you okay?” he peeked over the edge of her mattress.

“Just fine,” she rubbed her behind. Luckily, the duvet had cushioned her fall.

“Er, sorry about that,” Luka ran his fingers through his messy locks.

“It’s fine,” she shrugged off the hurt, grabbing a pair of jeans and a flower-embroidered sweater off the back of her chaise. “Want me to save you anything for breakfast when I go down?”

“A quince pastry would be nice.”

“Got it. See you!” She fled down the stairs to the secondary powder room to change and twist her hair into a braid. Ready to suppress the feelings stoked by Luka’s earlier actions, she washed her hands and prepared to face the public.

Luka wandered downstairs a while later, looking neat and as if he hadn’t slept in her bed and almost greeted her with a kiss before they were interrupted and then ignored it. 

She could feel Sabine and Tom pause in their work as they took in the situation and incorrectly interpreted it.

“Oh, I thought we missed you leaving last night, Luka,” smiled Sabine. “Are you-”

“Here’s your pastry,” interrupted Marinette, thrusting the napkin-wrapped goods into Luka’s hand. “You’re lucky I saved you the last one.”

“Er, lucky, yeah. About that. Can I talk to you? Later, I guess, when you’re not busy,” he cast a glance at the blatantly listening bakers. 

“Sure. We can go for another drive in about an hour? Around one?”

“Sounds good, I’ll see you then. Bye, Tom, Sabine.” With a wave, he ducked out the door, leaving a bill in Marinette’s now-empty hands for the pastry.

She turned to her parents. “It’s not what it looks like. It was late and cold and I didn’t want him walking home in the snow-”

“Mhm,” Sabine raised a knowing brow. “Would you like to talk about it?”

Marinette shook her head. “Not yet.”

~~~

Luka shook his head, sending accumulated flurries flying off his hair. He’d had the most lovely dream, waking up to Marinette cosying up to him in his bed, smiling at him lovingly. Except it hadn’t been a dream, and he’d almost kissed her.

He was not going to go down the path they’d travelled in school, with the secrets and barriers between them. She still didn’t know he knew she was Ladybug and the Guardian, and she hadn’t told him. He wasn’t going to lie to himself; it hurt a little.

Realistically, he knew there were several reasons why she wouldn’t bring it up (not the least of which because she didn’t want to dredge up those traumas again) but emotionally, he was simply hurt by her still not trusting him with her identity even though she’d entrusted Sass and literal timelines to him.

Still, his therapist in the States had done him good. 

He was going to tell Marinette he knew on their drive this afternoon, get everything off his chest, and then leave it in her hands while he returned to LA and broke his heart over her for the last time. Yep, sounded like a good plan.

~~~

Marinette climbed into the car. Luka closed her door, crossed the front, and slid into the driver’s seat. 

“Where to?”

“I thought maybe we could just drive around this time, unless there’s somewhere you wanted to go?”

“No, that sounds fine.” He took a sip from the mocha she had supplied them with, humming appreciatively. “This is perfect; thanks, Mari.”

“You’re welcome.”

He started the car and pulled away. 

They drove in silence for a while, occasionally pointing out some place they and their friends had adventures at. 

Luka pointed at the tip of the Eiffel Tower. “That thing was destroyed more times than I can count.”

She made an agreeing noise, thinking back to some of the battles the Tower had seen. 

“Marinette, I need to talk about something with you.”

She nodded, looking at the un-Luka-like tension in his body language. “Okay.”

“I was Viperion, on the Miraculous team. I reset so many timelines. It was impossible not to know who my allies were, with all the mishaps occurring. I’ve known you were Ladybug for years.”

She stilled, breathing stuttering as old trauma resurfaced. Someone knew she was Ladybug, something bad happened.

Reminding herself that Hawkmoth was gone, she wasn’t Ladybug anymore, and she was safe, she regulated her breathing and thoughts. 

“I knew you were Ladybug when we were dating, and that your identity was why you were so hesitant to open up. I thought now would be a good time to tell you that you don’t have to keep that secret alone anymore.”

“Luka, I-”

“It’s okay, Mari. I didn’t hold it against you. After all, we were all kids. Just thought I could even the score before I leave, since we both know each other’s secret,” he muttered. 

“I- you-” she stuttered, falling silent as her thoughts whirled.

“I’m flying out tomorrow afternoon,” he broke the silence after a few minutes. “Don’t worry, I haven’t told another soul and I never will. But, if you ever want to talk about it…you have my number.”

She nodded, still processing. “Thank you, Luka. For- well, everything. I’m sorry for what I put you through.”

He gave her a smile meant to be reassuring and forgiving, but she knew it was fake. “Have a happy new year, Marinette.”

Strangely feeling like she’d been broken up with, she closed the car door and walked into the bakery, where her parents met her.

“Everything okay, sweetie?”

She shook her head. “I think I need to take you up on your offer to talk about it.”

~~~

Luka packed his suitcase methodically, thoughts with one person miles away.

He wasn’t quite sure what he’d expected when he’d told her he knew. 

Maybe for her to ask him out again since they had no secrets between them anymore? Okay, that was his wildest dream, but he supposed she hadn’t changed that much, still taking her time to process things. Not that he blamed her–having a magical emotional terrorist attacking your city didn’t exactly inspire impulsive actions regarding your feelings.

His therapist had told him that there were seasons in one’s life, and sometimes people were only meant to be with you for a season, like a flower. Others were like trees, there no matter the weather. He wanted her to be a tree, but maybe she was only a flower. Whatever she was, he’d always remember the beauty of her blooms and the sweetness of her perfume. 

“‘Tis the damn season,” he mumbled, slinging his guitar case over his back and picking up his suitcase.

He’d left her with a reminder of his phone number. Hoping she’d call him one day, he drove to the airport. He only realised he’d chosen the route that took him by the bakery as he passed it, peering in the window to catch a glimpse of Marinette working the register. 

~~~

Marinette wasn’t having a good day. She’d taken forever to fall asleep, tossing and turning as she stewed over Luka and her parents’ advice.

They’d understandably been surprised by her explanation of the inner workings of her and Luka’s short-lived relationship, but provided some valuable outside-perspective commentary.

After a fitful sleep, she’d been working the register while her parents worked on a rush-order of pastries, her mind consumed by thoughts of Luka.

“Here’s your change, ma’am. Have a happy new year!” Handing the coins over, she wiped her hands on her apron and tidied up the counter space.

Clean up complete, she ran upstairs to change into jeans, boots with Ladybug pom-poms, a turtleneck, and her favourite Viperion hoodie she’d worn thin.

She tossed a quick goodbye over her shoulder to her parents and ran out the door, waving her hand at an approaching taxi. 

“International airport, please,” she huffed, buckling her belt.

“Hope you’re not late for your flight, mademoiselle. The snow is slowing traffic,” said the driver.

Marinette clasped her hands to stop her nervous fidgeting, calling on all of Tikki’s luck that she’d arrive before Luka’s flight left. 

~~~ Luka wasn’t having a good day. He’d slept off and on, was leaving his first love behind, and now he couldn’t even do that because of the sudden snowstorm. All flights were postponed or cancelled for the time being.

So far his flight was only cancelled, so he found a comfortable piece of carpet to claim and began strumming an imaginary guitar while he waited for updates.

Snippets of lyrics floated through his brain as he composed a piece containing his feelings in the moment. 

“I won’t ask you to wait…if you don’t ask me to stay…” He hummed softly.

The sound of running feet made him look up, curious who thought they were late for a flight that wasn’t taking off.

“Marinette?” “Luka?”

She paused in front of him, catching her breath.

“Why are you here?” he asked cautiously, getting to his feet.

“To see you,” she panted. “Didn’t want you to go.”

His heart picked up pace as if he’d been the one running through the airport. “Really?” “Really. I want you. I have for years. Is there any way you can stay?” she asked softly.

“I’ll stay any way I can if you ask, Ma-ma-marinette,” he grinned. “I love you. I never stopped.”

She tiptoed to be face-to-face with him. “I love you too,” she whispered in his ear before greeting him with a soft kiss. It felt like home and the beginning of everything and the end of everything and the past and future all wrapped up into one amazing kiss in the present.

He cupped her face in his hands, resting his forehead on hers.

~~~

Luka drove them back to the bakery, keeping her hand entwined with his. They stepped into the entry, stomping snow off their boots. Sabine and Tom greeted them as if it was an everyday occurrence, though Marinette saw the happy spark in their eyes.

“Just in time for the party!” boomed Tom. “Dinner is ready; let’s sit!”

After a festive new year’s eve dinner and delicious buche, Luka and Marinette carried their flutes of champagne up to Marinette’s balcony to watch the firecrackers and revellers beneath them.

Chanting filled the air, little sparks in the distance showing where firecrackers had been set off.

“10! 9!” The countdown to the new year had begun.

“My new year’s resolution is to have the woman I love become my girlfriend. Will you be my girlfriend?” Luka asked.

“4!”

Marinette nodded vigorously. “Yes!”

“3! 2! 1!” 

Horns sounded, firecrackers popped, and hollers filled the air, but Marinette and Luka heard none of it, too wrapped up in each other. 

“Joyeuse annee, Luka.”

“Bonne annee, Marinette.”

[riptunezune]

My hcs of Clovis x Child of Aphrodite Pt.2

*reminder: CoA (child of Aphrodite, any gender but in this case mostly female)

*** TRIGGER WARNING: mentions of SA on bullets 8-11***

Love languages: Clovis’s is acts of services (based off the impression I get from the series) and the CoA’s are words of affirmation and quality time. Both have a common love language of physical touch (Clovis gets anxious when it comes to physical touch because he’s not sure if he’s holding their hand or doing anything affectionate right except hugs and snuggling- he feels confident in that, CoA is nervous because they don’t want to make Clovis feel rushed or really uncomfortable. It took them 3 weeks to hold hands when they started dating).

Clovis did find a way to put CoA to sleep through kisses (foreheads mostly) but only does it to avoid arguments or certain topics which he rarely does

CoA can adjust their height be around Clovis’s height or a head taller than him depending on their mood/outfit (including shoes), imo I don’t think Clovis really cares but if someone does point it out that the COA is taller. He puts his hand on their hip and pulls them closer to him and goes “I know and they’re all mine!”

Clovis is always prepared and does miraculously know what to do to get them comfortable if they’re sick or have period cramps/body aches without needing to be asked~ sometimes what Clovis does is a lot better than what the CoA expects.

Both get along really well with each other’s family outside of camp (CoA is best friends with Clovis’s mom who does teach her how to tell how Clovis is feeling if he’s being a distant; CoA’s dad views Clovis as one of his and does occasionally help Clovis out if CoA is being a little toxic-I feel that their start of/parts of the relationship does get a little abusive/ one sided from an outsider’s pov but also both are dating someone that’s different from their personalities

They do get along with Clovis’ paternal half siblings at camp who have helped them learn more about Clovis in exchange for other favors involving their (Clovis’ siblings’) personal dating lives but also they just wanted Clovis to get into a relationship so they can easily bend some of the rules for their own relationship benefits without Clovis lecturing them the importance of privacy and boundaries esp when the Hypnos kids have full control of themselves in the dreamscape world as well as teaching them how to use their powers in the dreamscape world (Clovis may seem chill all the time, but when it comes to teaching his siblings about their powers, he’s a bit strict only because he really cares about them and doesn’t want them to get themselves into trouble)

Both Clovis and CoA took time to learn more about each other through each other’s mortal parent: CoA learned Clovis’s fav baked good and which foods triggers him to sleep~narcolepsy and Clovis learned their fav drink order, favorite authors, and their favorite materials to use when making their own bags~which many assume it was a customized purchase, not handmade (I like to think that before Clovis and CoA made it official, both their mortal parents shipped them after a traumatic experience-outside of camp (long story).

The reason why the CoA got interested in Clovis is because he saved them from an attempt SA attack from their “then” boyfriend who wouldn’t take no for an answer (Clovis had to fully body cover them). Clovis had a few bad bruises while CoA had a few scratches and this is where his fractures come in and hand feeding-this event occurred near the end of the school year to the start of summer, I also like to think this is where Clovis is a seasonal camper instead of full year round/if he is a year round, then this is one of the few weeks of each month that Clovis visits his mom and coincidentally ran into CoA being attacked.

They (CoA) felt extremely guilty and worried for Clovis , who told them it was no big deal and it’s not their fault. Clovis also secretly took vengeance for CoA, their “then” bf got punished in court (they appeared court looking really awful like weeks without sleep due some “gruesome nightmares”) and court gave CoA a restraining order against their ex.

CoA and Clovis started hanging around each other’s place before camp because Clovis needed a bit of help getting around with some upper extremity limitations and CoA needed to be reassured that Clovis was still okay and felt that helping Clovis out made them feel less guily and better plus they just felt really safe with Clovis after what happened (CoA’s dad is really grateful for Clovis’s actions and occasionally allows Clovis to sleep over on the couch since his presence does help CoA sleep better-sometimes CoA sneaks in hugs/snuggles just to help with the reoccurring nightmares of the trauma, and at camp sometimes Clovis and CoA meet in the dreamworld when CoA needs someone to talk to as well as helping them process the traumatic experience; post trauma after healing- they just wanted Clovis’ company).

Chiron was informed by both Clovis’ and CoA’s parents of what happened and made sure that CoA is well supported (even their maternal half siblings at camp were very supportive and shocked that Clovis was the one who saved her, but had a whole new level of respect for him). Clovis was more grateful that he could stay in his bed and sleep a bit longer, but still had to have someone from Apollo’s cabin to check his healing progress (Half the Apollo’s cabin weren’t surprise when they got together due to CoA pestering them multiple times to check if Clovis is okay).

When Clovis was in the infirmary for a couple of weeks before he was allowed to just heal at his own cabin, he always had the privacy curtains drawn before the CoA could feed him~which they hated with a burning passion but also decided to put up with it if it that’s what makes Clovis feel at ease (Clovis was mainly doing it thinking that he was doing the CoA a favor for their reputation but it actually made the CoA feel like they have to be keep their friendship a secret and feel that Clovis might be a little embarrass about them )

Before they got together, Clovis had the CoA really think about the relationship and if they really did like him or it was just his actions that they like (trauma bonding) and he told them that no matter what the decision, they make, he will always support them.

Clovis did manipulate the CoA’s dreams once to consider other people to date/encouraged the CoA to try to date other people in concerns that their feelings for him might’ve only been temporary but that backfired horribly- Clovis never did that again (he thought he was doing it in the best interests of CoA but instead the next day he got requests from Mitchell and half of the Aphrodite Cabin to fix it ~CoA refused to sleep for a few nights which ofc affected the other children of Aphrodite from getting good sleep)

*saw this from an ig post (link below if curious) and felt inspired to have CoA who likes to adjust their height to be taller than their normal height plus I just felt like it’s something Clovis and a CoA would wear

Link: https://www.instagram.com/p/C1HFmYpO38x/?igsh=ZXZlY3R1NXRzbmYw

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by DanScarf (@dan_scarf_)

Part 1

[vypridae]

9!!! 10!!! 11!! 12!! 13!!! or pick and choose <3

IDK WHICH FANDOMS U MEAN BUT IM GONNA DO EACH ONE AND ILL JUST PUT MY HAZBIN/HELLUVA ANSWERS UNDER A CUT SO U DONT HAVE TO SEE THEM

9. worst part of canon

ok the worst part of dgrp canon has to be the way they handle characterization, like especially with trauma. specifically in mind i have korekiyo rn, like they mega rushed his entire Thing and wrote it in a way that paints HIM in a terrible awful light when it very likely (or definitely) wasnt that at all, but the way it was written just fucks up so, so much. also the Danganronpa Repitition TM (flashbacks to

bsd uuuh oh my god i have to think about this one cuz i love bsd with a passion BAHAHA its hard to find flaws with that one (in part i havent consumed the media in forever), ik it might be just bc the series is still being written but its irritating that some things from like the first seasons are just not touched upon again? and maybe its because ihavent read the manga but like. did atsushi join the ada and suddenly the bounty on his head is just Gone? am i misremembering if they went back to that or not its been like a year since ive watched bsd i need to rewatch it but thats about all i can think of. im not even mad about the not killing any characters because fyodor is alive still

10. worst part of fanon

dgrp has a TERRIBLEEEE shipping fandom. i hated oumasai for the longest fucking time because i encountered this one rper way back when that like was a mega red flag SBGJKFDHGKA i hated them for a while after that (then they grew on me). you get shit on for liking, like, the more toxic ships in the fandom no matter your reasonings or whatever, and i feel like its just a really negative place to be a shipper that likes to explore bad dynamics (such as i)

i think the worst part of bsd fanon is similar. shipping sides of fandoms are ALWAYS bad i feel like, and there are a lot of people that will be like "skk is real fuck you for shipping anything else" or like "if u ship nikolai with anyone but fyodor i dont trust u" or something like??? its a fucking ship chill out its fictional it doesnt hurt anyone irl CALM DOWN

11. number of fandom-related words you've filtered

for bsd uh . only two surprisingly, and its two ships that i cannot physically make myself like?? thats all apparently

for dgrp i have uuh two and its literally also only two ships that i dont like BHASFKAHSK

12. the unpopular character that you actually like and why more people should like them

for bsd am i allowed to say fyodor? idk if he necessarily counts as "unpopular" but i see way more hate of him than i see people liking him, but god fucking dammit i love him with my whole heart. hes so evil and those kinds of characters litearlly just make me gravitate towards them, hes so smart and cunning and you can do so much with his character, especially learning his ability oh my god? jhes so complex and i love him

for dgrp, i feel like every character is "unpopular" BAHSAJKAHk but for this i think i wanna go with chiaki. people hate chiaki because shes "boring" or at least they Did back when i first got into the series but shes so different in the game compared to the anime because the game shes based on her classmates' memories of her! shes only this "perfect" individual because thats how her entire class saw her, like she was made the class rep for a reason

13. worst blorboficiation

ok this one im trying to figure out what the fuck the definition is BAHAJSHFAJK from what im SEEING its like, the character that doesnt deserve to be liked as much as they are. (i dont think i answered this one correctly but shh its fine)

for bsd thats really hard for me to think of because i like literally every character but uuh if i had to say one ig i'd say uuh . maybe dazai? i feel like this is in part because people typically take away from dazai's entire complex everything because he's too complex for a lot of people (including me) to truly understand, like im not saying i understand him but i feel like a lot of people will take the wrong parts of him/exclude anything they dont like about him and go with that? if that counts but idk i still like dazai so i cant say that too much

for dgrp its the exact same situation with kokichi. they take his character, of which is incredibly complex, and dumb it down into the typical fandom woobification of "uwu baby who cant do anything wrong" LIKE!!! STOP!!! NO HE IS NOT!!! HE IS SO COMPLEX AND YOU'RE LIKING HIS CHARACTER FOR ALL THE WRONG REASONS!!! people that dont understand the complexity behind certain characters and are incapable of taking that as their blorbo and instead creating this silly incorrect version in their mind and making THAT their blorbo i just. thats not ur blorbo atp thats ur oc my guy

hazbin/helluva answers

9. worst part of canon

both of these shows are kinda not the best when it comes to being serious???? like there are some topics that shouldnt be joked about i feel like, and there are points in the shows that joke in relation to these topics. also theres not enough voxval but thats a criticism for another time

10. worst part of fanon

not even just the ships tbh, its liking any character thats either painted in a negative light or is just generally unpopular. the ships too but i could get to that another time. for EXAMPLE, me, i like valentino. a lot. he's one of my favorite characters. i feel like i cannot express the fact i love val because i will get called an ACTUAL rapist for saying it because "if you like val you condone his actions and thus are a rapist/terrible person/etc" when thats absolutely not at all how it works. i acknowledge that val is terrible, i understand that its bad, but i can still enjoy him as a character otherwise. his actions are what i dont like, ive never liked him (i actually hated him at first because of it but then i saw him being more silly in the series with vox and he grew on me), but you will actively get told to kys if you say that you even REMOTELY enjoy vals character

11. number of fandom-related words you've filtered

i have none for helluva but for hazbin i have four. three of which are for the sAME SHIP and one is another ship i dont like

12. the unpopular character that you actually like and why more people should like them

MIMZYYYY dude she gets so much unnecessary hate. like, everyone sees her as annoying and terrible and i GUESS i can see where they're coming from but a. theyre in hell, everyone's terrible, b. people just see her as annoying because she interrupted hells greatest dad and they dont like that because they want their radioapple song or wtvr. i love her and no one can convince me otherwise

13. worst blorboficiation

ok THIS one i might actually be able to answer with the correct definition of blorboification. i feel like alastor gets way too much unnecessary love, and maybe thats just because i think hes too popular for being what he is but hes just not all that to me. like, hes a good character, yes, but some people like him to an extent that i feel like doesnt do him justice?? its like i said with uuuuuh the dgrp side of this question, they dumb down his character a lot and are just generally bad at making him ACCURATE to the point its irritating. (hey so yk how i said i could answer with the right definition of this i lied)

[emcandon]

the ballad of fancy uncle chucklefuck pt. 6

(previously on fancy uncle chucklefuck: 1, 2, 3 (look at the reblog for the update), 4, 5)

a long one! so this time, a cut!

GUESS WHO HAD A BAD TIME THIS WEEK HAHAHAHAHA

my plans to have fancy uncle chucklefuck idly making breakfast for the recently re-traumatized (BY HIS GOD) party were thwarted bc he instead woke up to being physically threatened by another, different god

bc lol the party weren't the only ones his god had pissed off -- an old god of the land itself had come to menace this sad old dandy and make its complaints Known

old god was understandably pretty upset that yet another power was throwing its weight around in barovia -- and even worse, possibly making itself available to strahd?? you idiot!! you asshole!! what's wrong with you!!

sidebar: feral hagdaughter tried to wallop the old god MULTIPLE TIMES bc it was the sensible thing to do! something seem dangerous? whack it until it goes away! DUH.

anyway btwn the old god's ire + the rest of the party's comments about "worst night of our lives" and "truly fucked nightmare" and the like, fancy uncle chucklefuck started to piece together that his god had maybe FUCKED AROUND only to leave him to be the one to find out! come on!! ¯\_(ಠ_ಠ)_/¯

anyway he went from protesting that he didn't really know anything to, well, protesting that he didn't really know anything, but with more detail.

you know, like admitting this power is something he recognizes but could never have expected to wield bc he doesn't even go here. (in terms of both being not of the royal bloodline, also not even technically from the kingdom, so like ¯\_(ಠ_ಠ)_/¯ !!!)

but also in terms of how, well, the power doesn't look like he remembers it looking. he's used it to make light and to heal -- and he only ever saw it used for violence, or to change the course of a mind.

which, to be fair, it has very obviously been fucking around in everyone's brains so ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

tl;dr it's new, he doesn't like it, he's never seen the god -- or whatever it is -- do anything for anyone that wasn't directly harmful, and the only time it ever saw fit to talk to him! it gave him a migraine! so like! ¯\_(ಠ_ಠ)_/¯

but the worst part was arguably when the old god made some comment about how this god loves him.

uh oh

oh no

why

tangentially, uncle chucklefuck asked Seasonal Affective Disorder: the Warlock a thing he'd been meaning to ask her ever since she said something about how there are "different kinds of dead"

namely whether it's possible for the soul--the self--to be carved out of a body, only for the body to still be breathing

(which was probably the most intense rush of emotion i'd felt at the table thus far bc holy shit not the time he wanted to ask that, if he ever even actually wanted to)

turns out this question hit HER in a terrible and unexpected way, but tl;dr the horrible answer is "YUP"

anyway that was around the point the old god decided it was satisfied -- which it articulated by suggesting they all go walk into a lake so as to not bring any more problems down upon its people or its land. buh-bye!

to which the dragonborn herbo was like "actually that sounds great, byyyyeeeee" and promptly exited stage left

the dour divine bard and SAD: the Warlock went to go talk her through her stress/ongoing powerful aversion to God Shit

which was DARLING esp bc the dour divine bard proved far more emotionally deft and gentle than they had yet dared to be!

but THEN the dragonborn herbo was like "THAT. CHUCKLEFUCK. TOLD ME NOT TO BE VULNERABLE. AND THEN WENT AND EXPOSED HIS ENTIRE FUCKING RIBCAGE TO US." (see 3)

here pictured: me, offscreen, wailing with laughter

SAD: the Warlock's answer to this was along the lines of "to be fair, uncle chucklefuck's probably going through it, and i suspect that awful god is too -- but ALSO, if they touch our brains again, i will kill him :)"

which made the dragonborn herbo feel better so we're all good now! we're fine! we're great! it's chill!

meanwhile fancy uncle chucklefuck had offered to make food for the group before answering any questions they wanted answered and feral hagdaughter was Extremely Interested in breakfast.

which was the most sensible thing that happened all morning and made him finally confess she's his favorite.

while they tended to that, a very distressed farmer's wife politely asked the utena butch bard whether the party planned.....to stay....any longer..... and desperately pretended the farmhouse was SO haunted by the most OBNOXIOUS ghosts so they would probably be MUCH happier if they just CONTINUED ON DOWN THE ROAD...

breakfast ended up remarkably chill all things given. dragonborn herbo (NEEDLESSLY!!!) apologizing for her "outburst" and committing to sticking with the group -- and making clear she keeps her fucking promises.

followed by fancy uncle chucklefuck cautiously offering to part ways with the group bc lol! didn't expect to be contagious! sorry! haha! fuck!

tho he was also talked out of this by the double-punch salvo of 1) we've already caught the contagion and distance probably won't help, 2) strahd has already proved Interested in your god and none of us really want him to get it, so!

ultimately we hit the road again with fancy uncle chucklefuck having changed into the farmer's spare clothes bc 1) god he's tired of putting on fancy face, 2) when he runs out of money, the fancy clothes will also be good for bartering.

and we left off on debating how best to deal with hags who have the bones that we want, with the conclusion that we definitely should not bargain with them, probably could not kill them, and therefore ought to steal from them -- so uncle chucklefuck has a new mission! which is teaching these whippersnappers how to do CRIME.

relatedly, two of the party members who are decidedly not actually whippersnappers due to various circumstances (dour divine bard + SAD: the Warlock) had a sidebar where they were like "hey i maybe Get you in a weird way. anyway are you also feeling 'i just met this dragonborn herbo but if anything happened to her i would kill everyone in this room and then myself?' yes? awesome. good talk."

great and functional party with tremendously admirable coping mechanisms you got there. would be a shame if they were to trauma-bond or something.

[thegeminisage]

WELL. it is time for the final tng update (until the movies ig). last night we watched the series finale, "all good things" parts i & ii.

all good things (not differentiating parts):

my main takeaway from this episode is that they somehow managed to bring back tasha yar, only to 1. have her do absolutely nothing 2. die again?? they have killed tasha yar three times. hat trick for dead tasha yar

second takeaway: old people makeup. i couldn't find any gifs for this episode because when you go in the tag they're all just comparisons with picard the show. which IS kind of fun, admittedly. losers in the old people makeup department: riker. winners: beverly. hers was kinda hot ngl. milf.

conceptually this episode kind of fucked. like, three eras of having to be in the same place, coordinating stuff over 4D space via rapid shifting...that's cool. there was a cool episode buried in here somewhere. i think the problem was 1. it took way too long to figure out what was going on 2. the three eras in question were season 1 of tng (bad), season 7 of tng (also bad), and tng 25 bad future. i have lots to say about the bad future in a sec but let's not get distracted. because all of these eras were bad, it wasn't very exciting to be coordinating stuff across them. i TOTALLY understand the temptation to bookend the show by going back to the pilot, but the sad truth is the pilot was AWFUL. q has largely been annoying and the trial was one of his MORE annoying appearances.

on the bad future: worf and riker fighting over deanna being DEAD somehow and us not getting any more information was pretty awful, especially since they sort of seemed to be having a fight about deanna in the present-day too. i don't like them fighting over her but i REALLY thing the deanna/worf was so rushed...riker is normally so chill too, it doesn't make any sense. plus it's absolutely bonkers that picard came back and DIDNT warn deanna she had 5 years to live. come on!!!

if geordi really grew back his eyes bc of the anomaly, why are they blue in the future? they look like prosthetics or something. also can't we just give him brown eyes cmon. also, it's SICK AND DISGUSTING they married him to leah. i like geordi, but his thing w women made liking him difficult, so thanks for reminding us of his absolute WORST moment right as we're saying goodbye to him forever

someone on the aos team did not do their research. romulus was destroyed in 2387, and the last season of tng is in 2370. that means this future era took place in 2395, eight years after romulus was destroyed. it would have been such an easy thing to avoid, too. you could have simply had spock and nero travel back from 2395 instead of 2387. like it's that easy. NOTHING would have to change except a number. this isn't even tng's fault like how could they know what crimes that man would commit. this is all on him. i like the aos movies but girl what the hell

wins for the future: data crazy cat lady. and everyone gaslighting picard. and beverly being soooo hot

the problem w this future is that it doesn't say anything about anyone except "you guys drifted apart without the mission to hold you together and forgot you needed each other." actually, it didn't say that second part, though i wished it had. the episode was also a bit muddied in that respect...like, what did it episode SAY about those three eras, other than "don't stop being friends later"? what did it SAY about picard and his crew? this is the finale, and there weren't any goodbyes or big character moments for anybody except picard, who had to have his big character moment in the fucking farpoint courtroom.

we did get canon worf/deanna and picard/beverly but she TURNED HIM DOWN EARLIER and only started macking on him when she found out she might die (just in time to get herself on the will and no that's not my joke). STAY STRONG...YOU DON'T NEED HIM...beverly crusher, i could be your man.

in a final act of hilarity, at the very end, picard INVITED HIMSELF TO CARDS. while i am always thrilled for poker games, and was feeling a genuine emotion about the last scene being a poker game, the profound silence when picard showed up at the door really dragged me out of it. "you were always welcome" HE LITERALLY TRIED TO DO THIS ONCE AND YOU GUYS THOUGHT IT WAS WEIRD

oh yeah. final note. can't believe they pussied out of shearing jonathan frakes for that flashback section. they just photoshop magicked that shit. it was clever, but it was cowardly

i really wish s7 of tng had been good...we had a few good ones near the beginning but the ones near the end were ALL duds. i could have forgiven so many crimes if we had gone out on a high note. tng WAS very good sometimes. i know they had it in them. unfortunately they generally chose to be ass instead, and as a result tng went out the way it came in: in the very worst courtroom scene in the entire world. rest in pieces.

NEXT TIME: ds9's "tribunal" and "the jem'hadar."

[alitgblog]

volume XI thoughts

I did in fact have access to this on Tuesday and started to play but then got distracted and didn't finish until like 2am when I couldn't sleep anyway (this was a mistake I was so tired at work)

movie night!!! And fun movie night titles!! ofc MC doesn't get her own custom one bc everyone's got different names but my MC is named Maya and with how things have been going I'm pretending her movie title is Messy Messy Maya 🤭

Emel and Oakley both being unfaithful in casa but finding (forcing?) their way back to each other and forgiving each other feels very much like something in the show so I appreciate that storyline tbh

Felicity is too beautiful of a sprite to waste as a Casa girl that only shows up for movie night.

Sienna going "I don't care if it's egotistical, pick my movies" because no one else is gonna care to pick hers 😬😬 id feel bad for her if she wasn't so mean

Hari and Hazel are so cute together but it seems like it's gonna die out soon 🥲 Like I see why if Hazel is panicking and Hari isn't the most reassuring guy and also not completely over MC but aghhh he's gonna fumble Hazel to LIAM. Hazel, not LIAM plsss

Absolutely awful that Liam is so funny bc he's such a piece of shit (awful in the best way, like he's so Messy Mitch from LI UK s10 coded and while I don't like him I appreciate the fun he brings). Saw someone suggest that he could be a late game LI and if he evolves and changes, sure, but a lot is gonna need to happen, otherwise give him a last minute jokey option like Hamish.

I think the thing stopping me from going full in on this Claudia route is she keeps going back to Theo, and not like she has to be pursuing MC 100% for me to pick her but I'm just getting mixed signals with her trying to save her relationship with Theo when they clearly aren't into each other anymore but there are plenty other people around.

Not on a Theo route and haven't talked to him but ngl his little video clip was cute like I almost jumped ship to be messy but nahh. I wonder how that's like if you're actually pursuing him though like does it feel like pay off or shock or reassurance or anything.

very nice they had Jin spell it out to Sienna in front of everyone. like kind of mean, but if it was gonna happen at any time, Movie night is definitely the time to do it.

Like even MC's movie clip playing, first of all was just if she slept with someone in casa I think (which, it's fair enough considering the game's limitations but I was missing all the other times she hoed around). So for my MC it was with Claudia, and Claudia barely has a response to it. And so I'm kinda just going towards the character actively pursuing and paying attention at this moment and it's Jin.

I guess MC was honest to Jin so he didn't mind the movie night thank God but also I want to replay to see the drama unfold. but in my head for some reason he'd be shocked it was Claudia bc she didn't say anything and like it'd be one thing if it was someone she just met like Max who she's been friendzoning ever since but another thing for it to be her best friend in the Villa. but alas, that is a large amount of branching and coding and dialogue to write so I'll let it slide.

a recoupling so soon after?? it's not like the season feels too rushed, but like I mentioned before, the pack in so many things in each volume you don't get much of a chance to chill out with the characters and pretend it's a vacation for your character lol

the problem with me playing early is I'm so curious how everyone else's game went. like is it only your OG LI or Casa Boy that can pick you?? And the chat you have with your partner after, does that lock your route because after this I feel there was a little bit less attention on MC from the other LI's (which I don't mind, so they can have their own stories now, but I wanna knowwww)

Shower scene, Sienna throwing another fit one last time for good measure

But now MC is back with Jin and they have all the cutesy interactions again yay

And then we have no rest in the morning, just straight into a DAYTIME heart rate challenge??? I just think this challenge should always happen at night idk

I forked over the gems for the cowgirl outfit (partly bc the mermaid dress was awful and bc my MC has red hair so I wasn't gonna make her dress like Ariel) but i wish there was a costume that was free instead of just your partywear dress? Like it can be a shitty costume but I understand people not wanting to pay gems for one outfit for one night of the game.

Hazel's outfit though 🥵

Such a minor detail, but I do love that despite her being so awful to MC, that Sienna canonically is a very conservative dresser. like we all see her churchy outfits. and I think maybe she's a little insecure about her body and stuff. that being said, the dialogue she has when she's in costume about feeling confident, and her costume isn't super revealing, and the girls being shocked at her dance, is all very good to have. like it's nice to have that type of character around and the fact that she's also the villain rn? she contains multitudes (or I'm reading into it too hard 😂)

mentioned briefly before but Hazel and Liam??? tf??

And now Claudia and Bea flirting with each other? Okayyy I mean my fingers are crossed so here's hoping they find each other if not MC. and they have a lot in common but feel like different characters so like pls let them be together (I say this as someone every few months posting about how it shouldve been Cora and Angie not friendzoned Oliver and Angie in the s4 finale)

ok but his entrance feels so overshadowed by other things going on though like I feel like he didn't get a chance to really bombshell to the point where I think he should've been introduced next volume instead. like have him have a normal bombshell entrance with dates or smth, then maybe when they're all chilling the next day and getting to know him someone brings up he missed heart rate challenge and they suggest he dances for the characters he's most interested in, if we really wanted to get his messy entrance in.

Two unfortunate things are true in my mind: Logan is very attractive (at least when he's got the hat on) and also he looks like Liam 🫣

depending on how this goes my MC may be hoeing around one last time

cliffhanger being the challenge results is lame

am i,,,, actually excited to replay this season 🫣

[tylerdashart]

(spoilers for TDP season 4)

OKAY. so i dont really do these kinda posts but id like to say a few things about season 4 cus ive seen some things and the fandom making theories, i just like to write about my own thoughts. ive watched s4 only one time due to not having netflix so i dont really remember many scenes.

"season 5 when?" are you good?? the season 4 just dropped 3 days ago! Im serious when i say ive seen multiple people already posting this question mostly on YT comments or Insta. also the fact that they're not artists OR a fic author makes sense honestly. they have no idea how animation works.

"rayla's acting weird" this is what frustrats me the most. NO she's not... ok maybe a little. but like. come the fuck on, she was gone for 2 years. ofc she's not the same person we saw in season 3. people change. plus, personally, i dont see any difference on her except this one time when callum asked her to...kill him. yes rayla acted a lot calm in that scene- not just that scene really. she was so calm most of the time, but i can see why? she's trying to get callum warm up to her, she's giving him space, she's being gentle as much as she can cus she knows how much she hurt him. she's grown up, she's not the same hot-headed, irritated elf anymore. and we all know how she hides her feelings. Im pretty sure she's gotten used to it, or managed to cope her feelings well so that she can stay calm. lastly about rayla, all i have to say is people change, so does rayla. and no she's not fake at all.

firstly, if rayla's acting weird, what about Viren being supportive with Terry? isnt that weirder? he didnt even treat his own son better, but he's supporting a trans fella? sus.... secondly, what about opeli being so chill about Ez going with Zubia. in that case most of the characters in s4 were out of character. and that's okay cus it's been 2 fucking years!

personally i think the "Zubia in Katolis" scene was a bit rushed. they couldve done it better but Im not saying it was bad at all tho! i loved the scene with the whole callum doing magic thing and the dragon sized jelly tart? xD

"why is rayla back?" why not really. she realized it was useless to find viren and came back home? she realized she wanted to see her mage? "we had something so special. but I became so obsessed with revenge, i.. risked losing the best thing ive ever had... you" she CLEARLY missed him yall. ofc she came back.

"where's the rayllum kiss" Im glad we didnt get a rayllum kiss. I know this is a cartoon show but at least the animators made it similar to how an in-real-life relationship works. people dont just go "you were gone for two years but its okay, i forgive you, lets kiss". Callum needs time to get used to being around rayla again. he's happy but also angry, he needs to see how hard rayla's trying to win callum's trust back. it was so clear that callum got a bit comfortable with rayla again in the last few episodes, especially the last one. That hug was enough sign for us to know they're gonna be okay and that they're still deeply in love.

Stella isNT EVIL YALL. leave my poor baby girl alone >:c

the fart joke was......nuhuh. idk if it's just me but it was gross. i dont wanna remember how much i cringed.

claudia was a bit- no fuck it- she was too much this season. especially in that scene where she tricked rayla with pebbles. god that hurt so much.

Lastly, Season 4 was amazing!! i loved season 4, and all the new things we saw. the arc is building up, it's so interesting, im so excited for season 5.

[variousqueerthings]

things about the episode + season

yeah 8 episodes is just too rushed -- which i think feels even more obvious in this episode, because it's... rushed. what can ya do, if you've got 8 episodes, i guess that's what you've got but... alas

ruby's story was pretty satisfying. it's smaller in scope than most companions, almost it's own mini-story amidst the wider dw sphere of things, which may be a smart choice, but does mean she'll probably fall under the scope of companions that i think were fun and fine, rather than like. chemistry altering. but then, i don't think she as a character was entirely for me, as much as giving a little intro to new (younger) watchers

(once upon a time that was me and rose, *wistful sigh*)

can you imagine just being some lady who had a bad time of it as a kid/teen, but has managed to build a pretty okay life and then to discover that the idea of your existence saved the universe from the god of death... idk, just a pretty strange day in the life of louise that must have been

i also. listen im a slut for "the doctor can offer someone all of time and space, but for some reason it's never enough (and if it is, it implies something will go terribly wrong)" themes. they're some of my favourite DW themes

back to the "rushed" side of things, the compulsory DNA testing, ive mentioned it so many times by now lol, but eek and the like. as a gimmick to get the episode to the next plotpoint, i was not a fan unless that's something to unpack at a later point. i think in some other point of canon i might have been more chill about it, even as something more thrown in there, but something about it here feels both lazy and a bit tone deaf. may have to unpack that more separately at some point

UNIT continues. to be. my fucking nemesis. why is everyone working for UNIT??? why are we just chill about this organisation in-canon???? when are they ever actually helpful??? (in nu!who) I just. they both add nothing for me and are a politically fucked up notion within the scope of this story in the way they're currently written

sutekh. i think also suffers a bit from "rushed" syndrome for me, in that in the end he just kinda sits on top of the tardis (with a sexy voice) and then gets killed by being dragged behind it, it's kind of the least interesting part of the story to me

as a setup for where this doctor's story is going, am very excited -- both about all the susan mentions, the continued wtf-ness implied by the doctor not being a native gallifreyan, the doctor's therapy self lasting all of... well a few episodes really, but certainly by this episode it's like. "pat pat."

i liked this season. it's given some larger stakes for the future (all those gods i think are still going to make a presence + mrs flood who im ngl i thought for a lot of this season was susan triad woops), but overall was relatively contained and didn't build a million mysteries on top of an enigma on top of a girl and what does it all mean? we'll find out... later.... maybe....

ultimately: good new season, enjoyed our companion, liked her arc, like what it's doing for the doctor's arc

[0verc00ked-simp]

So I just finished the third season for the first time last night (I know, I know, I have no excuse for holding off this long) and I have. Some thoughts. Spoilers, obviously.

First of all, it really wasn’t as bad as I was expecting from the way people talk about it, but I have my issues I wanna talk about.

Allison. They took all the parts of Victor I hated in season one and shoved them onto her in this season. Now don’t get me wrong, at first I was excited to see her get her much-deserved snap after all the trauma she’s endured but… They did it so wrong. I see no point mentioning the Luther scene as I’m sure we all share the same opinion on how that was a terrible mishandling of her but the thing that gets me is the fact that she made a deal with Reggie, and when that deal led to the death of Luther and Klaus, she still didn’t back out until she herself was injured. What??? Like, no, as soon as Luther died, that should have been the point that the Allison I know would have been like “ok, nvm, losing more people isn’t worth this”. But whatever,,,

Also, the romance with Luther and Sloane was so rushed and forced, Don’t get me wrong, I honestly thought they were cute together and Luther deserves to move on from the incest… even though this isn’t much better… but jesus. Also, did it have to be another alternate sibling of his? Really??? They couldn’t have given him a love interest that didn’t share a father with him? Its better than Allison who he literally grew up with and refers to as his sister, but this woman is also basically his sister. And they got married after like five-ish days of knowing each other, chill.

I haven’t decided how I feel about Lila and Diego’s kid yet. I don’t like pregnancy arcs but I wouldn’t mind seeing those two happy and settled for once in their damn lives. I dunno. I am neutral so far.

Five was deffo chiller in this season, people are right about that one. He had his moments of course, but I was sort of surprised by how much of a back burner they put him on this season. He’s typically they’re main blorbo. I didn’t really have any issues with him or anything, just wished he had more to do.

Well…

There is one issue.

The last episode ended with them all losing their powers, which included Luther no longer being part ape. This is fine and I think it will lead to some interesting plot next season, but why is Five still a child? I think they could justify it in some senses, but if you ask me, he should have either reverted back to being in his fifties, or he should have finally been in his thirties with the rest of his siblings. I’m sure they just didn’t want anyone but Aidan to play him (rightfully so) but Aidan is 20 now, they could have pulled something off. It’s not like they’re trying to make an actual 13 year old appear to be in his 30 or something.

If they’re keeping him as a kid, though, I want to see that have an effect. I want to see him regress and slowly start becoming more and more of an actual teenager. (In all honesty, could just be me, but it kinda feels like that’s been happening a little bit anyhow.) Also I saw another post talking about him being in school dealing with people who are actually teenagers and I really think that would be so funny, please make the state force him to attend public high school.

This has been my random thoughts after finishing the season, if you disagree with me, that’s totally fine, they’re more just the thoughts I had late at night after being sick kept me up. Looking forward to the new season. It got confirmed to come out next year, although we still have no idea when.

Hang in there people, it will be here soon.