#and you have the best scenes to work through

[scorpieuns]

KISS ME MORE | PARK SUNGHOON

summary: freshman year is just around the corner, and you still haven’t had your first kiss, so who better to ask for help than your best friend?

word count: 3.2k

MINORS DNI!!

warnings (18+): smut. fluff (just a smidge). kissing. swearing. oral (f. receiving). fingering (f. recieving).

A/N: this was literally just an excuse to write the ‘teach me’ trope im currently obsessed with lmfao. decided to return with another short fic while a longer one is currently in the works!

Your saturday was lazily drawing to a close, the amber light of the late afternoon bathing your room in a rich, golden hue as it filtered through the sheer curtains. Sunbeams danced across the floor, casting long, dappled shadows that shifted gently in time with the breeze from your fan, its low hum blending with the quiet outside. The heat of the day still lingered, but your room felt cool—a refuge from the summer heat beyond the window.

You and Sunghoon spent another day in the slow, unhurried rhythm of summer break. You had wandered through quaint little shops in town, indulging in some ice cream from your favourite parlour—before ending the day by hanging back at your place.

Soft, flickering light from the television illuminated the room, casting faint shadows over the cozy disarray of blankets and pillows on your bed.

The movie playing was one of your favourites—a classic romance that you knew almost every line to. Your gaze was fixed on the screen, eyes wide and captivated, but Sunghoon seemed content to only half-watch. His attention was mostly absorbed in a book he had got from one a thrift shop you’d visited a while ago, his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose as he read quietly.

Sunghoon lay sprawled beside you, completely at ease, the quiet shuffling of his turning pages blending in with the murmur of the movie’s dialogue as the two of you comfortably sat in silence.

Every now and then, Sunghoon would glance up from his book, watching you for a moment with a fond, almost amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He silently chuckled at how deeply you were invested in the story, even though he knew you had seen it more times than you could count.

As the movie played on, the flickering shots of the couple lost in passionate kisses filled the screen, but your mind was elsewhere. Each romantic scene tugged at a part of you, stirring feelings of uncertainty that you tried to brush away.

The effortless intimacy the characters exchanged seemed so foreign and so far removed from your own experiences. A soft sigh escaped your lips as you shifted slightly on the bed, that weird feeling in your chest only returning.

Fall was approaching, and the thought of starting college without ever having kissed had been gnawing at you. You were always the one admired from a distance—some guys flirted but that was all they did. The real experiences, the ones you saw in movies and tv shows still remained an elusive mystery.

It felt like you were missing some crucial part of your youth, something that was supposed to happen naturally, yet it hadn’t.

In the locker room, when your friends would share their stories about their latest flings or kisses, you’d smile, laugh along, but inside you’d cringe, hoping no one asked about your own love life. It was your secret, the thing that made you feel out of place despite how perfect you seemed to everyone else.

Then, there was Sunghoon.

You glanced at him, your best friend, lying beside you with a cute focused expression etched into his features. He didn’t talk much about his romantic escapades, but you’d heard enough to know he wasn’t inexperienced.

Sometimes you’d catch a glimpse of faint hickeys on his neck or the way girls would glance at him. It left you with a strange feeling, one you couldn’t quite name…was it jealousy? Insecurity? Maybe both. You felt your face heat up, embarrassed by how much it bothered you.

As another kiss scene plays out on the screen, your gaze flickers back to the couple. You bit your lip, the pang of longing growing sharper. What did it feel like? To be kissed—or to have someone look at you like you were their whole world, if only for a second?

The thought of entering college without knowing something so simple yet so intimate made you feel…painfully awkward.

You tried to focus on the movie, but the thoughts kept circling back, louder and louder. The movie no longer held your interest, and the weight of your unspoken feelings became too much.

Unable to shake the feeling, you sat up as your mind ran on impulsivity. The movie played on, but you no longer cared about the plot or the characters. All you could think about was the current problem you had and the one person who would listen to you.

You shifted on the bed, turning to him. “Sunghoon." you murmured, your voice softer than usual.

He responded with a low, distracted hum, barely lifting his gaze. One hand rested on his chin, finger grazing his bottom lip in a way that drew attention to the curve of his mouth, while his eyes flicked over the pages with slow, deliberate focus.

"How does…kissing feel?"

That got his attention. Sunghoon’s eyes snapped up from the book, the words clearly catching him off guard. He pushed his glasses up with one hand, studying you with a mix of curiosity and amusement. “What are you on about now?”

You cringed at how juvenile your question sounded now, already hesitating, “I…” your face flushed with a mix of embarrassment, “I haven’t…kissed anyone before. And with college coming up, I just feel…I don’t know…insecure.”

Sunghoon’s brow furrowed in genuine confusion. “Wait, you’ve never kissed anyone?”

You rolled your eyes, “Okay, Mr. Midfielder. I’m not like you, alright? It’s not like I’ve had tons of people drooling over me.”

A soft laugh escaped him as he sat up, expression softening. “No (Y/N), it’s just hard to believe.” he said, a smile tugging at his lips. “You’re… like, insanely pretty.”

Sunghoon’s words sent a little flutter in your stomach—but you brushed it off, chalking it up to him just being nice.

“Of course, you would say that,” you muttered, playfully shoving his shoulder.

“I’m serious,” Sunghoon insisted lightly, catching your wrist, gently lowering your hand. His eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, you couldn’t look away.

There was something in the way he looked at you making your heart race, your breath catching in your throat. You tore your gaze away, suddenly feeling exposed under the weight of his attention. “This is stupid,” you mumbled with a wry laugh, already regretting bringing it up.

But Sunghoon wasn’t letting it go. He muttered your name softly, his voice coaxing you to meet his eyes again. He reached out, his fingers gently tilting your chin up until your gaze locked with his once more.

His touch was soft, barely there, but it made your cheeks warm. “It’s not stupid,” he murmured, his eyes searching for yours. “It’s okay to be new to things. Everyone is at some point.”

“Yeah, I guess,” you muttered, staring at the comforter as if the intricate embroidery held the answers to everything swirling in your head.

Sunghoon watched you intently, his heart aching at the sight of your lips forming a soft pout and your expression so full of uncertainty. How was it possible that you had never been kissed?

He couldn't understand it, and yet, the thought of you being with someone else, experiencing that first kiss with someone who didn’t know you like he did—it twisted something in his chest.

Sunghoon would kiss you in a heartbeat if given the chance, but after ages of trying to ignore his feelings—of pushing aside how much he actually wanted you, he wasn’t sure he could handle it without letting everything else spill out.

His hand was still holding yours, his thumb tracing slow, soothing circles over your skin, and for a moment, the touch seemed to blur the lines of just simple camaraderie. The warmth of it messed with your thoughts, and before you could second-guess yourself, the words tumbled out.

“Well, you’ve done it before, right? You could, I don’t know… teach me.”

“What?” Sunghoon froze, his breath catching in his throat, his eyes wide with surprise. His voice dropped an octave,“you’re asking me to… kiss you?”

You nodded, scooting just a little closer, close enough to feel the faint warmth of his body against yours. “Come on, Hoon. We’re best friends. It’s not like it would… mean anything.”

Even as you said it, you couldn’t really believe the words yourself. There was an undercurrent, a dull gut feeling, that told you it wouldn’t feel like practice.

To you, maybe. The thought tore through Sunghoon’s mind.

He ran a hand through his hair, messing up his bangs as he tried to think. For the first time in a long while, he seemed genuinely flustered, “I don’t know, (Y/N).”

His voice was thick as he swallowed, cheeks slowly turning pink. “That’s not exactly something you just… teach.”

“It’s just a kiss. I just wanna know what I’m doing when I eventually have to kiss someone for real.”

Sunghoon’s gaze flickered, his eyes betraying more than he wanted to show. For a split second, his eyes darted to your glossed lips, his breath hitching as he quickly looked away.

He pushed his glasses up again, licking his lips as he huffed. “This is a bad idea,” he muttered, more to himself than to you.

“Why?” You asked, the plea in your voice betraying your own feelings. “It’s just one kiss, Hoon.”

Right?

You tried to keep it light, casual, like it didn’t matter. Like it was just a small favour between friends. But inside, your heart hammered against your chest, your skin felt flushed, and the air between you both had clearly shifted.

The way Sunghoon was looking at you now, though, like he was really considering it—like he was seeing you in a way he’d never let himself see before—it was almost too much.

“Are you… sure?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper, as if speaking too loud would shatter the moment.

Your fingers brushed against his knee, lingering for just a second longer, “I mean, it would just be practice.” You stated, but underneath it all, your heart skipped a beat, a buzz coursing through your veins as you looked back at him.

Sunghoon’s resolve crumbled at the feeling of your hand on his knee. How could he say no to you when you looked at him like that—those wide, pleading eyes making it impossible to refuse?

He swallowed hard, his breath shaky. “Just… a practice thing,” he muttered, his eyes flickering between your gaze and your lips, fighting the gravitational pull on them.

“Yeah,” You muttered quietly, reaching up to remove the wire rimmed glasses from his face and placing them on your bedside table before glancing back at him.

Sunghoon’s hand moved up, threading through your hair before gently brushing it away from your face, his touch slow, deliberate.

His thumb traced the edge of your cheek, pausing to brush against your bottom lip in a way that sent a shiver through you. The touch was soft, almost hesitant, but it ignited something deep inside you, making your breath hitch.

Your stomach fluttered as you met his intense gaze, his dark eyes trained on your lips. He leaned in closer, close enough that you could feel his breath fanning lightly over your skin, teasing, heightening the anticipation.

Sunghoon’s lips hovered over yours, just barely ghosting against them, brushing so softly that it made you ache for more.

Unable to resist the pull any longer, you closed the distance, pressing your lips gently against his. The kiss started soft, tentative, your body hyper-aware of every detail—the warmth of his breath, the way his lips responded immediately, moulding into yours with an eagerness that surprised you.

Oh.

You pulled away for the briefest moment, eyes flickering down to his lips, your heart pounding through your ears. Without a second thought, you leaned in again, this time a lot bolder, your hand finding the side of his face.

Sunghoon didn’t hesitate. He kissed back within a heartbeat, a soft sigh escaping his lips that sent a rush of warmth to the pit of your stomach. His hands slid around your waist, pulling you against his chest, the space between you vanishing as your bodies pressed together.

Your fingers slipped into his hair, the soft strands curling around your fingertips as you tugged on them softly, his soft groans between kisses making your pulse race.

Sunghoon’s lips were firmer this time, more needier with every kiss, sending a rush of heat through your body as his grip on your waist tightened.

You softly fell back into the bed as he hovered over you, his tongue tracing your bottom lip before you parted your lips a little more, a low groan rumbling through his chest as he licked into your mouth.

Your hands slowly drifted down Sunghoon’s body, slipping beneath the thin fabric of his shirt to trace the contours of his torso, his breathy moans travelling straight to your core.

“Fuck.” He rasped, pulling away, “maybe we should stop.” Sunghoon’s eyes were glazed over, lips were swollen and tainted with your lip gloss, “I don’t think I’ll be able to control myself (Y/N).”

“Then don’t.” You rushed, breathless and wasting no time kissing him again, an unmistakable moan leaving Sunghoon’s chest as he kissed back desperately.

He pulled away—already missing the feeling of his lips on yours before they moved to your jaw, trailing soft sloppy kisses that travelled down to your neck, the feathery feeling creating a dull ache between your thighs.

Your sighs of pleasure almost bordered on moans as he gently sucked your delicate skin—pink and purple marks blooming on your skin, recklessly marking you from your neck to your collarbone.

Sunghoon’s hand drifted over the small of your back, sliding over to find their place on your ass squeezing the soft flesh with a lewd groan—an involuntary moan slipping past your lips at the feeling, tugging his hair.

Everything had your mind spiralling. Sunghoon’s lips were on your neck, his hand roaming every inch of your body.

You’d be lying if you said you didn't want more—craved more.

He trailed wet kisses along your chest, lifting your shirt to press a few more along your stomach, revelling in the way you leaned into his touch, your soft whines and sighs driving him up the wall.

You admired the way Sunghoon looked when he glanced up at you with his eyes, weaving your fingers through his already dishevelled hair, moving to his face and caressing his rosy cheeks.

Sunghoon’s fingers finally met the waistband of your shorts, lifting your hips up as quickly pulling the layer of clothing away, “fuck, you’re so beautiful.” He hissed, running his hands up and down your thighs.

His other hand brushed over your underwear, groaning at the sight. His finger traced over your wetness on the silky fabric, and you leaned into his touch, with the most beautiful moan he’d ever heard.

“Fuck baby, you’re so wet.” Sunghoon groans as his thumb taps at your clothed clit, clenching around nothing at the mention of the pet name he’d just given you.

He kissed your thigh, hooking his finger into your underwear and sliding the damp pink fabric down your legs, almost moaning at the sight of your dripping cunt.

Sunghoon lifts your leg and holds it over his shoulder, swiping his tongue over his thumb before meeting your clit and your head falls back, “Hoon, fuck.” You moaned, grabbing at your sheets.

“Tell me if you want me to stop, okay?” Sunghoon says softly, and you nod—watching him dip below your thighs, lips move to your clit and sucking on it gently.

You never fathomed anything would feel this good. Sure, you’d touched yourself a couple of times, but nothing could beat the feeling being eaten out.

You cry, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of his tongue dipping into your folds, letting his thumb swirl around your bundle of nerves while his tongue enters your core, moaning into your entrance.

The vibrations from his moans sent shockwaves up your spine, head tipping back in from the sensation with a broken cry, legs attempting to fly shut but he pushed them apart with a sound of disapproval.

His tongue swiped upwards, and his eyes fluttered closed at the taste of your arousal, reveling in the insanely beautiful moans that tumbled from your lips.

Your hands weaved into his hair, tugging the soft strands as you shamelessly bucked into his mouth with broken whimpers.

Sunghooon held you firmly against the sheets to stop you from squirming, unable to stay still from the feeling of his nose causing friction on your clit as he lapped at your pussy.

Your eyes peer over at him and the pornographic sight of him buried between your thighs makes your cheeks burn. When his hand moves from your thigh you don't think much of it, until you feel his fingers circle your entrance.

Sunghoon pulls away from you, just in time to watch your plump lips fall open when he easily slides his fingers into your dripping core.

“You have know idea how good you look baby.” He panted, plump lips covered in your arousal biting his lip at sight in front him, completely enamored by your fucked out expressions.

Sunghoon’s fingers curl inside of you and they brush over your sweet spot, your mouth opening in a broken moan.

“F-feels so good, Hoon” you mewl breathlessly, grabbing his free arm as you bucked into his fingers, pumping them into you at a perfect speed.

You cheeks flushed furiously at the sounds of his fingers fucking your sopping wet core, broken raspy moans leaving your chest as his lips pressed kisses to your overstimulated clit—your mind a scrambled mess.

All you could think about was the pleasure that was currently surging throughout your entire body, making your toes curl and your head dizzy. A few whines and broken moans was enough to tell Sunghoon you were close, furiously clenching around his fingers as you begged him not to stop.

“That’s it baby, come for me.” He coaxed, his voice raspy and breathy, moaning at the sight of his fingers easily slipping in and out of you.

Your body jerked forward and your hand flew to his arm, blunt nails digging into his skin as you let out a whimper, back arching as his name tumbled past your lips in high pitched moans.

You were almost embarrassed by how fast Sunghoon made you come, mind clouded and hazy as he continued pumping his fingers, your walls clenching around his digits as he fucked out your high.

He pulled away shortly after, fingers slipping out of your entrance and placing a gentle kiss to your inner thigh.

You watched the messy haired brunette suck his fingers into his mouth, eyes closed and moaning at the taste of you—before you leaned over, softly grabbing him by his shirt and pulling him to your mouth for a kiss, lightly tasting yourself on his tongue.

"So we both agree that this wasn't just practice, right?" He mutters against your lips and you laugh, still dazed and high from the aftermath of your orgasm.

"Yeah, I don't think I wanna do this with anyone else. You're my only option, Park." His smile grows and he pecks your lips again.

[juniperskye]

That’ll Show Them.

Based on the following ask: 🥰 yay!! Okay. (Deep breath), so the idea was basically either preschool or elementary school setting. Hotch being a sexy single dad has most of the single (and not!) Moms drooling over him. Y/N or Reader is a single mom, not one of those drooling but definitely sees that he's attractive. But her kid (girl or boy) happens to quickly become Jack's BFF and this causes natural interactions and conversations between her and Hotch over the next few weeks which makes the other moms salty and jealous, and she overhears them at one point speculating that she probably told her kid to befriend Jack just so she could get closer to Hotch. I didn't really think of an ending for it but just had an idea of a scene where she's trying to remain calm and unaffected while overhearing them talking about her and giving side eye. Maybe Hotch hears it too and comes to her defense? Or makes them even saltier by asking her out in front of them? 😈 @nyxwolph thank you for requesting this! I did adjust a little bit, so I hope you like it!!

Aaron Hotchner x Single Mom! Reader

Angst/Fluff

Word count: 3569

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, some explicit language, reader is a single mom, mention of divorce, school moms being shitty, mention of Hotch’s ex father-in-law being ill, no use of y/n, Fem reader, reader has no physical description other than being shorter than hotch, reader is mentioned/implied to own a shop (no details), gay best friend, Hotch starts work at 8am (idk what the BAU hours are lmao) let me know if I missed any!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

The moms were ruthless. You were barely three months into the school year and already you had been completely ostracized from the “mom group.” Part of you had assumed it was because the majority of these moms had all caught wind of your very public, messy divorce. The other part of you, however, knew that the main reason you’d been exiled was him.

Aaron HOTTIE Hotchner, as the other moms called him, had taken Ms. Jenson’s third grade class by storm. Meet the teacher night had been a frenzy of horny moms all praying their child ended up in the same class as Aaron’s son. There were hushed conversations and giggles, and hair flips all night long, you had felt bad for the teachers since their presentations had fallen second to the gossip travelling through the halls about the hot single dad.

“I heard he works for the FBI!”

“I heard he’s a widower. Could you even imagine?”

“Wow. He must be pretty amazing, a single dad and working for the FBI!”

“Can we be real for a moment and just admire how hot he is?”

“Did you see his hands?”

“Yes! Did you see his suit? I love a well-dressed man.”

They were vultures, every single one of them, and Aaron was their newest victim. He, of course, had been completely oblivious to the blatant flirting – he returned every advance they made with a kind smile or polite nod. And listen, you weren’t going to deny that Aaron was hot…you just weren’t trying to be like those other moms and gush about it at meet the teacher night.

Your being excluded by the class moms had only gotten worse since Jack and Millie had become friends. Millie had told you on the first day of school, that a boy had pushed her down on the playground, and before you could panic, she told you that a different boy…one named Jack…had helped her up. She said after that, they sat together at lunch and read aloud.

You could barely contain you excitement. Since the divorce, Millie had been having a tough time making friends – mainly because the moms told their kids to stay away. Your ex had been quite cozy with some of the moms at Millie’s last school and you had eventually found out he was sleeping with one of them. Once the divorce was finalized and you had full custody, you’d moved and that meant a new school for Millie.

Realistically that should’ve been the end of the drama, but it just so happens that the girl who your husband slept with…well her sister’s child was in the same class as Millie. He of course was the kid that pushed Millie down on the first day of school.

It shouldn’t have bothered you, their constant whispers…but it had you seething. This was an everyday occurrence now that you drove Jack home. The moms all waiting for dismissal engaging in hushed conversations about how desperate you must be.

“I bet she told her daughter to befriend his son.”

“What a sad way to get his attention.”

“Well, I mean, her ex did cheat…so she’s probably desperate.”

“She’s ridiculous if you ask me.”

This new development has begun exactly two weeks ago. Jack and Millie had been on their sixth playdate – this had been the first one Aaron had been able to host (due to work obvi) which had led to you staying and the two of you talking about how demanding his work schedule must be. He had told you it kept him pretty busy and that his sister-in-law had been extremely helpful, but with her father falling ill, she was growing increasingly busy.

“You know, I could drive Jack. If you’re comfortable with it.” You offered.

“I couldn’t possibly ask that of you!” Aaron panicked.

“It’s a good thing you didn’t ask…I’m offering. I already have to drive to the school to get Millie, I could grab Jack and the two of them could hang out until you are off work. And if your sister-in-law ever can’t watch him while you’re away, know that I am more than willing.” You punctuated with a kind smile.

“What if I take them to school, I don’t need to be at work until eight, and then you could pick them up? That way it is even. Obviously when I’m out of town, which wouldn’t necessarily be possible, but I could coordinate with Jess and…” Aaron was spiraling.

“Aaron. If you want to take them to school when you’re in town, that would be great. That would allow me the time I need in the shop before opening. When you are out of town, if Jack is staying with me, I will take them to and from school – if he’s with Jess, she doesn’t have to worry about Millie okay?” You suggested.

“You’re a godsend. You know that?” Aaron said, a smile growing on his face.

“Yeah well, Jack has been an incredible friend to Millie, and I would love for them to spend more time together. Plus, the house has been so quiet and, I don’t know. It would be nice to have the kids there.” There was a slight cringe that was brought with the insinuation of your divorce.

“I appreciate it either way.” Aaron gently nudged your shoulder.

So, for the last two weeks, Aaron had been driving the kids to school and you had been picking them up. He shockingly had yet to be called on a case…but you knew it was only a matter of time.

Aaron was called away a few days later, he had let you know that Jess would be watching Jack. That had sent a tinge of pain right to your heart. In truth, you were attracted to Aaron, and the more time you spent with him, you were starting to fall for him. You tried not to focus too much on the fact that he’d sent Jack to stay with Jess…chalking up to the fact that Aaron probably didn’t want to burden you – even though he could never.

You didn’t hear from Aaron until nearly two weeks later.

A: Hey, we just got back from this case. I’ll pick Millie up in the morning for school. Are you good to pick up Jack after?

Y: Hey! Yeah I can pick them up tomorrow. I have to take Millie to get her cleats and shin guards for soccer, is it okay if Jack tags along?

A: I totally forgot soccer starts next weekend. If I sent some money in Jack’s backpack could you pick up his stuff too?

Y: Of course! Will you be late tomorrow?

A: Probably, after a case like this, there’s a lot of paperwork to be done. I will try to be there by 7pm if that’s okay.

Y: 7 is fine, we will get homework done and I will feed them and have Jack all ready for you!

A: Thank you. Seriously I don’t know what I’d do without you.

The next day you arrived at the school at 2:45 pm to pick up the kids. You parked your car like always and stood in wait with the other parents. You were checking your phone to see where the nearest sporting goods store was when one of the dads approached you.

“Hey, is Millie ready for soccer to start?”

“Oh, hey Scott! Yeah she is so excited! What about Macy?” You questioned.

“She’s nervous, but she told me she was glad Millie and Jack were playing too. Michael was really bummed that the girls weren’t in a class together this year.” Scott explained.

“I was too! How is Michael? We should all have dinner some time!” You suggested.

“He’s good, and I am sure he would love to have you and your new beau over for a meal – I will talk to him when we get home!” Scott beamed.

“New beau…what are you talking about? Do you mean Aaron? He and I, we’re not…” You stuttered.

“Don’t worry, it’s okay! You should be bragging to all those bitches that you bagged the hot DILF! Don’t let them spoil something good for you hon.” Scott gently squeezed your arm.

Just as you opened your mouth to reply, the kids came running out. Macy ran to hug her dad while Jack and Millie made their way to you. Both kids hugged you and then said their goodbyes to Macy. You moved to grab their hands and guide them to the car, but not without catching the glares from all the moms. They must’ve heard Scott and you talking…and while you and Aaron weren’t dating, it didn’t hurt to let them believe it for a bit.

After getting the kids soccer gear, you took them home and got them started on their homework and gave them some apple slices. You checked a few emails, changed the washer and dryer, and wrote up your grocery list in the meantime.

When they were done with their homework, you checked their work and then quizzed them on their spelling words. By then it was nearly 5:30 pm, you set the two of them up in the living room with a coloring book and some Legos while you got dinner started. You made some grilled chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans – for the kids, you added some cheese to the potatoes and cut up the chicken – setting that on the table for them alongside a glass of chocolate milk.

“Kids, time for dinner!” You hollered.

“Coming mom!” Millie called.

You were about 10 minutes into dinner when a knock sounded from the front door. You excused yourself and walked over to let Aaron in.

“Hey, we were just having dinner, can I get you a plate?” You offered.

“Oh, as long as it’s not an imposition!” Aaron replied.

“Aaron, how many times do I have to tell you that it’s not an imposition. I like having you around.” You stopped abruptly, embarrassed that you’d let that slip. “I mean, you know, it’s nice that Millie and Jack are friends…I uh. I…”

“I know what you mean. And I like having you around too.” He said, finally stepping fully into the house.

Aaron placed a gentle hand on the small of your back to guide you toward the kitchen. You plated him up some food and he joined you at the table, sitting right beside you. You couldn’t help the growing heat that bloomed on your cheeks as his arm brushed against your own. The room was filled with the playful chatter of the eight-year-olds that sat across from you, giggles escaping them as they recounted the events of their day at school.

Glancing over, you noticed the joy radiating from Aaron’s expression. You hadn’t seen him this genuinely happy in all the time you’ve known him, and you wonder if it is because he doesn’t get to relax like this often. The thought allows your mind to drift even further – splaying images of cooking for the four of you all the time, of late nights cuddled with Aaron and even further into the future, welcoming a new child to the family you’ve curated…only it's all in your head.

“You alright?” Aaron whispers. His warm breath against your ear causes a chill to cascade across your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“Yeah, I’m good. Sorry, just lost in thought.”

“Hey mom, is Jack’s dad going to be my new dad?” Millie posed, causing you to choke on the bite of chicken you’d just taken.

“Woah, sweetheart you’re okay, just breathe!” Aaron patted your back gently. “Here, take a sip of water.”

Taking a swig, the chicken makes its way down. “Mills…baby where did you get that idea?”

“Well Rain said that his mom said that you were moving in on Jack’s dad, and I thought that if we were moving in, then that would make him my new dad!” Millie smiled.

It was Aaron who choked this time, only it was on his water, causing some of it to certainly escape through his nose. He pulled his napkin to his face as he coughed in an attempt to clear his airway.

“Aar…breathe.” You returned the favor of patting him gently on the back. “Are you okay?”

He answered with a nod and allowed a chuckle to escape his mouth before looking up to meet your gaze. Aaron wasn’t ignorant of the fact that the other moms had been eyeing him since the beginning of the year, he just hadn’t realized that they’d gone after you due to your budding closeness.

“Millie, Rain’s mom is just kidding. Jack’s dad and I are becoming good friends, like you and Jack, and they don’t like that, so they’re saying some not so nice things.” You explained.

“Oh…okay.” Millie said, a small pout gracing her features.

A pout that pulled on not only yours, but also Aaron’s heartstrings. He allowed himself a glance in your direction and took careful note of the hurt and disappointment that flashed across your own features briefly. Was it possible you felt more than you were letting on?

Six days later you received a call at four in the morning. It hadn’t been the thing to wake you up, but it came as a surprise, nonetheless.

“Hello?”

“Hey, I just got a call about a time sensitive case and Jess is dealing with her dad. Would you mind taking Jack while I am away?”

“Aaron, of course! Do you need me to come and get him?”

“No, I will get a bag together for him and drop him off on my way to the office. I am going to leave you with a key to my place just in case Jack needs anything. Thank you for doing this, seriously it means a lot.”

“It’s really not a problem, I will have a bed made up for him by the time you get here.”

“Thanks sweetheart, see you soon.”

With that, Aaron hung up, and for the second time you were taken by surprise at the pet name he so casually referred to you by. You had to remind yourself not to swoon. It wouldn’t do you any good to get into your thoughts about the meaning behind his slip of the tongue.

Jack Hotchner was the most wonderful child you have the privilege of knowing – aside from Millie of course. He was polite and he listened with no pushback. He helped Millie with her chores (cleaning up her toys and putting her clothes in the laundry basket), he didn’t complain, and he just exuded this kindness and joy that brought an extra bit of warmth to your home.

You could see Millie becoming attached and you feared her heart would break once Jack had to go back home. You only hoped that she’d understand that although Jack’s presence isn’t currently permanent, they’d still get to see each other all the time.

Jack stayed with you for five nights, Aaron surprised you all by showing up with a pizza on Saturday evening.

The three of you had been cuddled up on the couch watching Inside Out 2 when the doorbell rang. You shuffled over to the door in your sweats and fuzzy socks to see Aaron standing there in a quarter zip and jeans. Good God, he’s never looked so good.

“Aaron!” You couldn’t hide your excitement.

“Surprise! I brought pizza, I hope cheese is okay.” He inquired.

“Cheese is perfect.” You confirmed. “Kids, dinner is here!”

“Dad!”

Jack ran to embrace his father. Millie, however, stormed off to her room. You were quick to throw Aaron an apologetic glance, before following her down the hall.

“Mills…what’s wrong honey?”

Millie replied with a grumble in her pillow and a shake of her head.

“Baby, I can’t help if you don’t tell me.”

“It’s not fair. Jack doesn’t have a mom, and I don’t have a dad. But when you and Mr. Aaron are together it feels like a normal family. How come you guys can’t just be together?” Millie cried.

“Oh, honey. It’s not that simple bug. Mr. Aaron, well he’s a busy man and I just…” You trailed off.

“Don’t you like him?”

“Mills, yeah I like him, but like I said, it’s not that simple. Even if he liked me back, that wouldn’t just make us a family, it would take some time for us to get serious and then we’d have to decide if that was the right step for us.”

“It is the right step! You guys like each other, and Jack and I get along…mommy it’s perfect! You could be Jack’s mom and Mr. Aaron could be my new dad.” Millie said matter-of-factly.

“Oh honey, is this about your dad?” You pulled Millie into a hug.

“No! He wasn’t nice to me like Mr. Aaron is. Mom I want Mr. Aaron to be my dad.” She whispered as tears stained her cheeks.

“I know honey, me too…me too.” You pressed a kiss to her head. “Baby lets go have some pizza and enjoy our time with Jack and Mr. Aaron, yeah?”

“Okay.”

That night, something shifted. Aaron and you had begun spending more time together, going to soccer practices and games together, taking the kids to the park, the movies, pottery painting places, dinner at your house, game night at his. Aaron had also exclusively been asking you to take Jack while he was away on cases – claiming Jess’ father was getting worse.

Two months passed like this, and things had started to feel very domestic. Millie was asking more and more about Jack being her brother and Aaron her father and you had to explain that even though they weren’t related, even by marriage, that friends could be considered family too.

Once again you were taking care of Jack while Aaron was out of town on a case, only this time it was a little different. Your car was in the shop, so Aaron had let you borrow his car, and today was the last day of school before winter break. The schoolyard was buzzing with anticipation of the final bell, parents were discussing their vacation plans with one another while waiting.

You has been talking to Scott and Michael when Becca approached you.

“You know, I think it’s a sick thing you’ve done, using your daughter to help you prey on a vulnerable man.” She hissed.

“Excuse me? What the hell are you talking about?” You shot back.

“Aaron. You had Millie befriend Jack and for what so you could trick Aaron into going out with you? It’s truly despicable behavior. He’s a good man and he deserves someone who is genuine.” Becca spewed.

“I don’t know where you get off, talking to me like that, but I can assure you – ”

“Becca, I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t speak to my girlfriend that way. She is the kindest most genuine person I have ever met, and every day she shows me how much she cares for and loves Jack and me. So back off, and maybe don’t speak on things you don’t know anything about.” Aaron bit as his arm snuck its way around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

“I KNEW IT!” Scott shouted.

Becca stormed off with a huff and you turned around to see Aaron wearing a shit eating grin. You couldn’t help but be overwhelmed with disbelief at the fact that Aaron was here right now, he’d stuck up for you, and he’d called you his girlfriend. Yeah, you were fairly sure your brain had short circuited.

“Girlfriend?” Your gaze lifted to meet his.

“You know, I’d been meaning to ask.” He grinned down at you. “What do you say?”

“Yes! Of course!”

Aaron closed the gap between you and captured your lips in a kiss. All the while the moms scoffed and huffed in disbelief that you truly had taken Aaron HOTTIE Hotchner off the market. And before you had a chance to pull away, Jack and Millie came bounding over just in time to catch the last bit of your kiss.

“Does this mean Mr. Aaron can finally be my dad?” Millie asked.

Aaron leaned down to Millie’s level “Mills, I would love nothing more than to be your dad, but we have to take things slow okay? Your mom and I have a lot of grown-up decisions to make before that can happen, so I need you to be patient. Can you do that for me?”

“I can do that!”

You leaned down in front of Jack, wanting to ensure he’s included in all this. “What do you think Jack? Would you be okay with me and your dad being together? It means you and Millie will be together a lot more often.”

“Will you eventually be my mom then?”

“If your dad and I choose to get married eventually, then yeah, I’d be your stepmom.” You explained.

“I think you’d be a really good mom.” Jack wrapped his arms around you.

Aaron and you may have only just made things official, but in the last five or so months, you’d both fallen for each other. Sometimes, things are just right, and all the pieces fall into place naturally. And for the first time in a long time, you couldn’t wait to see where this leads.

[starcurtain]

A Look at Ratio and Aventurine... and Ratio/Aventurine

I was morally obligated to use this picture.

Anyway, I got an ask about my understanding of Ratio and Aventurine's relationship both in canon and as a ship that I have been holding on to for a while now because... phew, there's like... a lot to talk about there... But I felt I should at least give it a try, so here is my attempt to comment on the intersection of two of Star Rail's most complicated personalities. Long post is longgggg; you have been warned.

First, Aventurine's canon relationship to Ratio:

In the interest of not hitting tumblr's image limit, let's just throw out some of the information we have in one go:

It's pretty complimentary. (Yet somehow...)

The implication of the infamous "Keeping Up with Star Rail" video is that Ratio understands Aventurine better than anyone else, and Aventurine knows this. At the very least, putting all shipping aside, Ratio is the person who can explain Aventurine's behaviors best. He's the person Aventurine chooses do so. This suggests significantly more knowledge of each other's lives than the game first led us to believe.

Other people (read as: my GOAT Owlbert) perceive respect from Aventurine to Ratio, and although I read them as a bit sarcastic, the 2.1 mission logs not only repeatedly confirm that Aventurine views Ratio as smart and reliable, but that Ratio is reliable "as always," again indicating a longer and closer history of collaboration than we get to actively see in game. The devs were working hard to tell us "Penacony isn't Ratiorine's first rodeo," which is interesting--given Topaz's voiceline recommending the Trailblazer avoid working with Aventurine whenever possible, we're led to believe through 2.0 and 2.1 that not many people will willingly work with Aventurine more than once, let alone many times.

While going through psychological scrutiny from the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come his Harmony-infused self, the "Future" Aventurine suggests that Ratio and Aventurine are quite similar, and that Aventurine puts a surprising amount of trust in Ratio, to be willing to hinge such a dangerous plan on something as untested as Ratio's ability to act. At the very least, Aventurine's own psyche is pondering on Ratio and whether or not their connection has any emotional meaning.

But despite all this evidence suggesting Ratio and Aventurine spend significantly more time with each other than we get to see in game, Aventurine's own thoughts cast strong doubt on whether he and Ratio are actually close.

Aventurine's "About Dr. Ratio" voice line suggests that Aventurine believes Ratio does not particularly like him. He seems to think that Ratio would prefer to stay away from IPC operations where possible, and it's "unfortunate" for Ratio to be stuck with Aventurine as a conversation partner. He's tolerated, rather than enjoyed. His overall impression seems to be that Ratio mostly views them as distant coworkers.

When the "Future" Aventurine suggests Ratio did not betray Aventurine willingly, actual Aventurine immediately pushes back:

(Personally I'm on the fence about whether this was real doubt or just a ploy to continue sussing out Sunday; see my other post about this scene for some more thoughts.)

But if we take this statement to be played straight, it implies that Aventurine doesn't fully believe Ratio will side with him, even (maybe especially) in dire circumstances. If this statement is real doubt, then despite considering Ratio the person who best understands him, despite building an entire life or death gamble around Ratio's loyalty... Aventurine still doesn't think Ratio even likes him.

Aventurine's not stupid or blind, so theoretically he should be able to read the situation better than that. But actually, there's plenty of evidence both in the game and outside it to suggest that Aventurine is not the most accurate judge of his own relationships to others and is a down-right terrible judge of his own worth as a person.

"Future" Aventurine suggests that one of Aventurine's deep inner flaws--the truths that he rejects about himself--is a massive inferiority complex. This is backed up well by the mission text, where Aventurine's thoughts about himself spiral into self-harm, and the scene in the maze, where "Future" Aventurine taunts our Aventurine with the unforgettable fact that his entire life was only worth pennies:

There's also pretty consistent self-deprecation, with both "Future" and real Aventurine noting several times that he's a pathetic mess of a person that other people don't trust or like.

The overall impression 2.0-2.1 left me with is that Aventurine is perfectly capable of respecting and caring for others, but virtually incapable of accepting other people genuinely respecting and caring for him.

Part of this seems to stem from the directly-stated sense that he's a failure whose only worth is in transactional exchanges, using and being used by others (there's so many layers to this--internalized racism even), but I also suspect that much of his inability to accept genuine connection from others is defensive behavior.

Aventurine's true self, Kakavasha, is deeply hidden away, like the ghost of the child that manifests from his Harmony delusion in the Dreamscape. Although Aventurine clings to that person, claiming that he has "never changed," he actively coats over his beliefs, his kindness, and his authenticity with the mask of a "cavalier gambler," with glitz and glamor and showy distractions. No one gets to see Kakavasha. No one gets to know him, because being buried deep in the dirt is the only way to remain untouchable, and fiercely keeping one's distance is the only safe bet. (For both Kakavasha and any fools who would doom themselves by daring to care for him.)

So: Canon is telling us that Ratio is one of, if not the, closest people in the world to Aventurine. But canon is also telling us that that still means absolutely nothing at all, because Aventurine won't let himself be close to anyone living.

Aventurine's senses of self-worth, trust, attachment, and safety have been warped so badly by ongoing and untreated trauma and mental health issues that, at least until the end of 2.1, I just don't think he was capable of even accepting genuine friendship from Ratio, let alone anything more.

(Interesting side note here: Ratio is actually one of the people Aventurine calls "my friend" the least. He only says it directly to Ratio a single time in all of their lines of dialogue across 2.0 and 2.1, and even then, does so only when right outside Sunday's door, while almost certainly being spied upon by the Family. Anyone who knows how often "my friend" is peppered into Aventurine's dialogue otherwise should know that the absence of the phrase is actually pretty telling. It almost feels like canon Aventurine's not even sure he can call Ratio his friend, at least to Ratio's face.)

Which makes Ratio's canon relationship to Aventurine quite sad and ironic:

From start to finish, Ratio canonically esteems Aventurine more highly than almost any other character in the game. I'm not even talking about shipping when I say that there is no character Ratio is closer to in the entire game.

At present, Ratio has only four voice lines about other characters, and of those four, Aventurine's is the only one that isn't someone from the Genius Society. The only one. Ratio's voice lines are also notably, uh, not very complimentary. Herta is "talented but not helpful to others" and "sees no one as her equal" (read as: she's self-absorbed). Screwllum is a "monarch, rather than a genius" (with the vague implications of being a tyrant), and Ruan Mei is overly ambitious and "fooling everyone."

Meanwhile, Aventurine is "our man" (who is "our" Ratio? who?) whose success "can't all be chalked up to luck," implying that part of Aventurine's success must come from skill. Ratio notes that Aventurine questions his own ability... but as far as Ratio's evaluation goes, he seems to doubt that Aventurine will ever experience a downfall. For someone who thinks 99% of the people he meets are mediocre failures scrambling around in the filth of existence, to be recognized as skilled and unlikely to fail is quite obviously glowing praise.

Then, of course, there are numerous moments that echo Aventurine's hints, implying that Ratio spends significantly more time with Aventurine than we see on-screen, that he knows Aventurine extremely well, and, although he tries (vainly) to pretend he isn't, he's clearly quite concerned with what Aventurine thinks of him.

Especially this last one. "No wonder that gambler likes you so much" is pretty intentional on the devs' part, confirming that Ratio and Aventurine are having off-screen conversations we players are not privy to, which obviously would indicate a closer relationship than the in-game cutscenes could cover.

Then, Trailblazer has the option to flat out ask Ratio to "rate" Aventurine. (Star Rail ship bait is not even subtle.)

At first, this line might read as all over the place:

"The bosses say we're partners but I wouldn't say that" -> Read as: Ratio wants people to know how their relationship is classified but doesn't want to admit to being actually invested.

"I see myself as the teacher to everyone I meet" -> Read as: Ratio at least pretends that he doesn't view anyone as his equal; everyone is either above him--geniuses--or below him--students.

"Aventurine is not that bad of a student" -> High praise; even Ratio can't pretend Aventurine's untalented.

"Actually, Aventurine's probably in metaphysical danger" -> Read as: Ratio is aware of the "void" Aventurine is experiencing and his mental struggles.

The ultimate takeaway of Ratio's "rating" actually says more about Ratio than Aventurine. When it comes down to it, Ratio's choice to answer this question for the Trailblazer instead of dismiss it tells us that Ratio has spent time quantifying and trying to define his relationship with Aventurine, is willing to at least discuss that relationship with other people (when we have no evidence he ever discusses any other personal/non-academic matters with anyone), and that Ratio pays attention to Aventurine's mental states.

Canon Ratio is not beating the allegations, I'm afraid.

But actually, I think the biggest tell about Ratio's canon relationship to Aventurine is that Ratio's behavior completely changes the moment Aventurine appears in the game.

In every single one of Ratio's other appearances, two facts are hammered home again and again:

First, Ratio hates interacting with fools and "noisy" people. He wears his plaster bust so that he doesn't even have to see them. Canonically, we're informed by both March 7th and Argenti that Ratio brought and was wearing his headpiece in Penacony. Curiously though...

The players never see it throughout 2.X--probably because 90% of Ratio's scenes are with Aventurine, and Ratio is never shown wearing his bust on screen with Aventurine--even in their very first meeting in the Final Victor lightcone. Aventurine clearly knows of the bust, but despite Ratio verbally going on and on about how Aventurine is the most "flashy" and "devoid of logic" person Ratio knows... the devs deliberately send their message: Ratio has chosen not to cut himself off from Aventurine.

Aventurine can be more "clamorous" than a screaming peacock, but Ratio will still not put up walls against him. This isn't accidental. The devs had every opportunity in the world to go the opposite route and make jokes about Ratio refusing to take the bust off in Aventurine's obnoxious presence; instead they decided that Ratio apparently has a glaring, Aventurine-shaped exception to his "I don't want to perceive you fools or be perceived by you" life rule.

This "willing to tolerate shenanigans only if Aventurine is involved" behavior continues basically throughout all of Penacony's plot. In 2.3 for example, if you turn around and talk to Ratio again on the Radiant Feldspar, he flat out says:

But there's no actual explanation for why he's there in the first place. He mentions he was assigned to watch over "the IPC's ambassadors," which theoretically should apply to Jade and Topaz, yet we never see him interacting with them in any capacity. He's never even shown in the same room as Jade or Topaz, and he's not shown doing any other form of business for the IPC on the Feldspar either. Theoretically, he could have been on the Feldspar to meet regarding the Divergent Universe... except Screwllum wasn't there yet, and Ratio doesn't mention a single word about the Divergent Universe to the Trailblazer.

The only person Ratio talks about in his dialogue on the Feldspar is Aventurine, and the only non-Trailblazer he talks to in 2.3 at all is also Aventurine, replying to him and only him in the group chat.

He looked like he might give it a shot to try to befriend Boothill and Argenti at the end of 2.3... but immediately changes his mind and leaves without saying a word to them.

It's not really a stretch to suggest that the only reasonable excuse for Ratio to attend the party on the Feldspar was if he was there for Aventurine, a behavior that he himself notes is out of character. ("A waste of time" he says, as he stands there anyway.)

But, second and even more importantly: Ratio's single most defining character trait is that he believes people need to pick themselves up. The entire point of his debut appearance in the game was to present his philosophy that if the powerful or privileged intervene to continually "save" the mediocre, ordinary people will never learn for themselves or get the chance to grow. It is in times of desperation, he says, that fools exceed their limits and reach greatness.

This is why, in 1.6, he insisted on Asta and the Trailblazer being the ones to solve the attacks happening on the space station, without relying on Screwllum or the other geniuses. Although Ratio did actively intervene a little (using the phase flame to save the researchers from death), he did so only from behind the scenes, where his actual help would not be noticed by those affected and where it had no impact on their decision-making or their struggles to solve the mystery.

He let Asta and the Trailblazer panic. He let them flounder. He even deliberately misled them at points, claiming that Duke Inferno must have kidnapped the researchers (when it was actually Ratio himself who re-routed them).

Ultimately, Ratio let Asta and the Trailblazer grow from their experiences.

This is also why he lets the Trailblazer go blazing in to fight Ruan Mei's faux emanator of the propagation, despite knowing that Trailblazer was not actually strong enough to win. Ratio watched and was ready to intervene... but in the end he did not, because it was the Trailblazer's fight to lose.

Ratio's most defining character trait is that he believes standing back and observing is the true kindness, rather than inserting oneself and denying people their autonomy or opportunities to grow.

Buttttt... then there's Aventurine, and suddenly the story is completely different.

Suddenly, Ratio isn't an observer but becomes essential to the plan. He's even walking around making big claims about being the manager of the task, flexing all of his C+ acting ability to actively carry out their mutual ploy.

In 2.3, he claims he was just there to watch, and his Penacony sticker asserts he's only "a supporting character"--yet we have never seen Ratio take a more active role in the entire game. Unlike with the Trailblazer in 1.6, he's not primarily watching events unfold from shadowy corners. He's in Penacony as Aventurine's active partner in crime.

And, even more telling--he later jeopardizes their entire mission just to ask if Aventurine needs help.

What? Huh? The character who is famous for the voice line "You look distressed. Is something troubling you? If so, you can figure it out for yourself" is suddenly offering his assistance entirely unprompted?

The guy whose motto might as well be:

Is suddenly out here throwing his own core philosophy out the window to solve Penacony's mystery for Aventurine and save him from himself in Aventurine's hour of greatest need?

A lot of people get hung up on the second half of Ratio's letter, the part about staying alive, which of course is very sweet. But I think the second half causes people to forget that the first part of Ratio's letter is, quite literally, the answer to Penacony's mystery.

Ratio gave Aventurine the answer.

This is like if your professor just gave you and you alone the score key to the final exam and then turned around to insist he "doesn't play favorites."

Of course, Aventurine is brilliant and didn't need Ratio's answer about dormancy, which makes the fact that Ratio went out of the way to give it to him even more odd. Ratio despises unnecessary repetition. If he wasn't dead worried, he would never have given Aventurine an answer that Aventurine had the power to find on his own.

And, as far as canon tells us, Ratio has never done this for anyone else.

The difference is night and day. It's literally the Gordon Ramsay meme, with everyone else in the entire game being the "fucking donkeys" to Aventurine's "Oh dear. Gorgeous."

So: Even if we entirely put aside shipping, if we look strictly at what we're given in canon:

Ratio treats Aventurine with more respect than he treats most other characters in the game.

He involves himself in Aventurine's struggles in a way that he flat out refuses to do for anyone else.

He compromises his own beliefs purely out of concern for Aventurine.

So, at least as far as we've been shown in canon, it is accurate to state that Aventurine is the closest character to Ratio--and unlike Aventurine (king of self-gaslighting), Ratio isn't even good at acting like he doesn't care.

Frankly, the whole thing is a little sad. Ratio's behavior is so blatantly out of character that a smart person like Aventurine should easily be able to determine it is genuine, but Aventurine's personal hang-ups and ongoing trauma make it difficult for him to even see that authenticity, let alone put faith in it. Even in canon, Ratio is mostly unable to help himself when it comes to Aventurine, which is especially unfortunate given how badly skewed Aventurine's perception of himself and others is by the start of Penacony's story.

PHEW! I finally made it through canon content!

Now there's just... everything else... 🫠

Well, to be honest, I don't think I could ever manage to put all my thoughts about this ship into one post. Probably not even fifty posts.

So rather than trying to say everything there is to say about Ratiorine, what I want to focus on is how fantastically these two characters just fit together. Like puzzle pieces that need to be mirror opposites in order to link, these two characters parallel each other while also perfectly filling in each other's voids. It's some of the best character pair writing I've seen in a long time (though I'm still sort of convinced it was at least 50% sheer luck on Hoyo's part), and my perspective on their ship can really be tied to my underlying perception of Ratio and Aventurine's characters as remarkably similar individuals:

It's obvious that Aventurine is not a healthy or well-adjusted adult man, but like... neither is Ratio.

Both of these characters are "not quite right" marginalized people who, at least in my interpretation, have essentially given up on even faking normality and are now just vaguely play acting their way through being functioning members of a universe that is entirely unequipped to accept them for who they are. In a world full of cyborg cowboys and people with wings growing from their heads, the game still manages to somehow convince us that Aventurine and Ratio are odd ones out.

Kakavasha can't even exist in the dystopian capitalist hellscape of the IPC's machinations. "Aventurine" isn't even a real person, just a never-ending performance, a slick, devil-may-care persona without a single ounce of substance.

Ratio, meanwhile, is a world of one, rejected from the only place he thought he could find validation and acceptance but unable to lower himself to fit in anywhere else.

Aventurine is so bad at making genuine connections that he turns everyday conversations into gambles because he doesn't believe people will care enough to keep talking to him without tangible incentive.

Ratio's insistence on treating everyone as students, not as equals, also means he has an excuse to never emotionally engage with anyone he meets. (This is not at all a textbook method of intentional avoidance to prevent any chance of social rejection. Not at all.)

At the end of the day, Aventurine and Ratio both come across as desperately lonely, and so caught up in their own situations that they really don't have the ability to climb out of that hole on their own.

Preventing them from even being able to maintain any form of relationship is also the fact that neither one of them can even find justification. Neither one of them has a reasonable answer to the question "Why am I alive?" anymore, because Aventurine's reason died on Sigonia and Ratio's reason died with an IPC invitation instead of a Genius Society letter. Though their differing perspectives have led them on opposite paths pursuing their own answers to that ultimate question of "Why should I keep living?" (Aventurine was headed toward giving up before the end of Penacony, while Ratio has invented an immeasurable, impossible goal to distract himself from feeling purposeless), both of them are pretty much miserably unfulfilled in their current lives.

They're also both violently allergic to emotional vulnerability and to having any of their flaws or true desires actually be perceived. Both of them put up insanely high walls. Aventurine pushes boundaries with everyone he meets to provoke their hatred in advance, before they can come to disdain him for his "real" flaws. He acts out harmful racist stereotypes to use others' preconceptions for advantage, manipulating every situation he's in--incidentally affirming the stereotypes against his people by doing so.

Ratio puts a physical wall of plaster between himself and others, but the plaster bust actually doesn't have anything on the mental and emotional gymnastics he's engaged in to justify his isolation from the world, doing everything in his power to convince himself that he's isolated by choice, that it's perfectly logical for Veritas Ratio to have nowhere to truly belong, no one to truly belong with. He's so mundane after all. Of course the geniuses don't want him, that's just commonsense. But everyone else is so... different, so foolish, so illogical... It just wouldn't be reasonable of him to try to become one of them either, to be their friend instead of their distant educator. (You know, if you never try to integrate with others, then they can't reject you. Ratio has learned his lesson.)

Somehow, Aventurine and Ratio are two of the most competent and successful people in Star Rail's entire universe and simultaneously also two of the most misfit, reject, dysfunctional messes in the game. Like... Blade has a better support network than Aventurine and Ratio combined. The 7000-pound murderous mech with a disabled, genetically-modified war veteran who never got to live a normal human life hiding inside it is more capable of making friends than Aventurine and Dr. Ratio.

Which is why I love that the devs decided to make their canon backstory: "Some absolute treasures in the IPC and the Intelligentsia Guild had the galaxy-brained idea of pairing Ratio and Aventurine as strategic partners." The game's writing really said: "These two characters are so socially stunted, they have to be assigned a relationship like it's homework."

They may not have it all figured out yet, but the fans see the design: Now that Ratio and Aventurine have each other, they're not alone anymore. I have never seen two characters better fit the "Is anyone going to match my freak?" meme only for the actual answer to be "Yes."

Ratio is "plays chess with himself" levels of loner weird? No problem--Aventurine is "Wanna take bets on who's going to die today?" weirder. Ratio wears a plaster bust to ward off idiots? Aventurine transforms into a monster on command, which is pretty much guaranteed to achieve the same effect.

Ratio wasn't chosen by Nous? That's fine, Aventurine's one job as a "chosen one" was to save his people and now they're all dead. Nobody can keep up with Ratio in conversation? Watch a single comment from Aventurine turn him into a fumbling mess on live television.

Ratio's inability to relate to the experiences and development of any peers his own age have left him extremely isolated and with a permanently scarred sense of self-worth? Wow, I wonder if Aventurine knows exactly what that feels like.

They just... fit.

And, changing focus a little here at the end: While I personally think that recovery from trauma requires internal motivation and self-kindness foremost, I also think that Ratio and Aventurine's relationship should be considered from the perspective of how they help to fill each other's gaps.

Unlike any connection at the Genius Society who will always evoke unpleasant memories of Nous's rejection, Aventurine isn't going to make Ratio feel intellectually inferior. Aventurine has nothing but good things to say about Ratio's intelligence, and it's even apparent that Ratio felt comfortable enough to at least mention his Genius Society woes to Aventurine, something he explicitly does not do with anyone else.

Even when it comes to social interactions, Aventurine isn't going to make Ratio feel inadequate, because honestly? Aventurine's almost as bad at them as Ratio. Aventurine is much better at faking it socially, but when it actually counts? When he's trying to be real with others? A solid 70% of the people who meet Aventurine still end up wanting to strangle him. The guy tried to apologize for threatening to detonate the Trailblazer like a bomb by buying them a model train...

Then there's this:

Aventurine is the only character explicitly called Ratio's equal in game, and more than just treating him respectfully as an equal, Aventurine also exhibits one extreme appeal that no one else in game has ever shown to Ratio: Aventurine makes Ratio feel needed. For Aventurine, Ratio is not a forgettable after-thought as he is to Herta and most of the other geniuses. He's not just "some weird guy who scolds me about school" like he is to the Trailblazer. Ratio's intellect and skill were integral to Aventurine's plan from step one to the very end. Ratio has a place in Aventurine's plots. For a character who directly assesses worth by how beneficial a person can be to others, the fact that Aventurine can make Ratio feel wanted and valued probably produced some of the strongest personal fulfillment Ratio has had in years.

On the opposite side, Ratio's in a unique position. Out of every relevant character in Aventurine's story, Ratio is the only one who has nothing to lose by choosing Kakavasha over "Aventurine." Ratio doesn't profit off Aventurine or take any expensive gifts from him, like the Trailblazer does. He doesn't need Aventurine's luck for anything at all. He'd be able to work for the IPC even if Aventurine wasn't in it. Ratio certainly doesn't want the glitz and glamour of a shallow gambling hustler persona. His work doesn't require Aventurine's continued involvement like Topaz's and Jade's does. He'd probably prefer not to know any Stonehearts at all, thank you for asking.

Outside of deliberate-acting insults about Sigonians for Sunday's sake, we're not told that Ratio has any connections to--and therefore has no preconceived biases against--Sigonians. Being a person who values self-determination and a refusal to live in mediocrity above all else, he would have nothing but esteem for how far Aventurine has managed to come despite the harsh circumstances of his life. Ratio probably wouldn't even think Aventurine's belief in Gaiathra is that strange; one of Ratio's doctorates is actually in theology.

Unlike literally everyone else in the universe who needs "Aventurine," we have every indication that Ratio's respect and admiration will only grow when he finally gets to meet "Kakavasha."

Loneliness, rejection, betrayal, a lack of understanding from others--all of these can leave wounds that only genuine, deep bonds with others can heal.

On death's doorway, in the darkest shadow, when Aventurine had to make the choice between passing on to be with the family that loved him and choosing to return to a reality without them... Ratio's letter was there, telling Aventurine the exact thing he needed to hear to choose life: Someone is waiting for you to come home.

If the resounding rejection of Star Rail's Nihility is belief in humanity's power to make meaning in our own lives through our connections to others, then the ultimate message of Ratio and Aventurine's arc in Penacony is that no one needs to be alone. The world is not as empty as you fear.

And that is a message that Ratio and Aventurine can learn best through each other.

(I just... love them so much...)

[persevereforahappyending]

No Man's Land |2|

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x Reader

Summary: Sam can’t help but be drawn to the cute stranger from her gym, even if everything about them makes them the perfect suspect, just when Ghostface has returned.

Warnings: Talks of Murder and Killing

Word Count: 3k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2

Sam had her head thrown back, trying to calm her nerves as she and Tara waited for Detective Bailey to arrive. When Quinn called her father, he had said he wanted to speak with Sam. He wouldn’t confirm or deny whether the killings on the news were the work of Ghostface, but he wanted her to come down to the station. Tara had refused to let her go alone and Bailey even agreed that he’d like to see Tara as well. They arrived at the police station first thing in the morning and were immediately escorted to an interrogation room, without anyone telling them anything.

Sam finally looked up when she heard the door open, seeing Bailey enter. “Sorry about the wait,” Bailey said, giving them an awkward chuckle.

“What’s this about?” Tara asked, tapping her fingers on the table.

“The killings,” Sam cut in. “Was it Ghostface?”

“We found this,” Bailey said, tossing an evidence bag containing a bloody card onto the table, ignoring both the girls’ questions. “At the crime scene,” Bailey sat in the chair opposite of them. “In which two of your,” he pointed at Tara. “Classmates were murdered. Care to explain?” he shrugged.

Tara leaned forward, her eyes widening at what was in the baggy before she looked back at Sam. Sam furrowed her brow as she took a look as well, her face instantly going white at seeing her ID, covered in blood, and in the evidence bag. “I lost my ID months ago,” Sam mumbled, shaking her head. “I had to get a new one.”

“Why didn’t you report your ID as stolen?”

“I didn’t know it was stolen,” Sam glared at Bailey.

Sam didn’t know detective Bailey too well. She knew he was a homicide detective and when Quinn decided to go to college at Blackmore, he transferred to New York so he could keep an eye on her. Quinn complained about him occasionally, usually saying how overprotective he was, though he did allow Quinn to live on her own with Sam and Tara, even though it would be much cheaper for her to live with him. Bailey always seemed like the typical dad, but Sam wasn’t sure, she saw danger around every corner but the majority of the time it was just her being paranoid.

“Where were you last night?” Bailey asked, getting back to his questioning.

“You can’t seriously think she’s a suspect,” Tara said. “That’s ridiculous.”

“I’m just trying to figure out what happened,” Bailey held his hands up in defense. “Do you have an alibi?” He looked at Sam.

Sam sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “I was at work,” Sam answered. “Then when I came home Chad and I went to the gym, then back to the apartment.”

“And someone can verify this?”

“Lots of people probably,” Sam shrugged. “Your daughter being one of them, she was at the apartment last night.”

“It’s true,” Tara said, crossing her arms. “We were all with someone the entire day. Anything else?”

“Your classmates,” Bailey said, pointing at Tara. “Had a Ghostface shrine, it seems they killed their professor a Ms. Crane.” Tara sucked in a breath, Sam didn’t know her personally, but she had heard Tara and Mindy mention her a few times. “Earlier this evening. Know anything about that?”

“Why would we? I barely talked to them.”

“Are you familiar with a,” Bailey flipped open a file, squinting his eyes at something in the file, “Richie Kirsch?”

Sam couldn’t help the way she shifted in her seat, trying not to react. “He’s my ex,” she answered with a tight-lipped smile. “And he’s dead.”

“Yeah, he and my best friend tried to kill us last year,” Tara snapped. “What’s this got to do with anything?”

“Well, it seems these boys,” Bailey said, tapping his fingers on the photos of the two guys killed. “Intended to finish his movie.” Sam and Tara’s faces both fell at those words. “It seems they were working on a plan to kill you two.”

“We don’t know anything about that,” Sam said.

“Right, right,” Bailey mumbled to himself. “So, it’s just a coincidence these two boys end up dead?”

“There are no coincidences when Ghostface is involved.”

“Look,” Tara cut in, seeming frustrated and tired. “Are we under arrest or can we go?”

Bailey looked between the two sisters then down at the photos and evidence bag. Sam held her breath as she waited for his response. She wasn’t sure what was going through his mind, he still never confirmed if Ghostface was back, and she didn’t know if Bailey suspected her or thought she and Tara were in danger.

“You’re free to go,” Bailey said. “Just don’t leave town,” he gave Sam a look, like he knew she wanted to run.

Tara didn’t hesitate to get up, nearly knocking over her chair in the process. Sam gave Bailey one last glance before following after Tara. They flagged down a cab and Tara gave the guy directions to Blackmore. When Sam furrowed her brow Tara showed her Mindy’s text saying to meet at the school so they could go over suspects before class.

Before she knew it Sam had her head thrown back again, this time as she sat on a bench outside Blackmore College. Everyone was already there when Sam and Tara arrived and since then Mindy had been standing in front of everyone pacing back and forth. Sam just wanted her to get to the point already, she wanted to try and get some sleep before she had to go to work. She knew she wouldn’t get any sleep though; she wasn’t able to sleep last night and there was no way she’d be able to before her shift, not with Ghostface out there.

“Suspects!” Mindy said, finally seeming to get to the point. “With Ghostface, most likely, back we should go over potential people who might want to kill us! Because Bailey clearly won’t be of any help.”

Sam couldn’t help but glance at Quinn. The girl frowned at Mindy’s words but didn’t move to argue with her. Mindy also didn’t bother sparing Quinn a glance, let alone an apology. Sam couldn’t help but frown at Quinn’s reaction, or her lack of reaction. Detective Bailey was Quinn’s father, and she wasn’t saying anything to stick up for him or defend him. Sam wasn’t sure if that alone was suspicious or if Quinn just knew by now there was no point in arguing with Mindy.

“First!” Mindy continued, holding up a finger. “Ethan! The shy, dorky guy who no one suspects because he’s just so shy and dorky.”

“I’m a suspect because I’m randomly Chad’s roommate?” Ethan questioned, gesturing at Chad awkwardly.

“Roommate lotteries can be fixed,” Mindy rolled her eyes as if it was the easiest thing in the world to do. “And second, Quinn!” Mindy turned, smiling at Quinn. “Tara and Sam’s slutty roommate, a horror movie classic.”

“Sex positive,” Quinn corrected. Though she didn’t seem offended by Mindy’s accusation like Ethan had.

“How did you come to live with Sam and Tara?”

“I answered their ad online.”

“No need to say more, you’ve implicated yourself enough!”

“It was an anonymous ad,” Tara said. “And we vetted her.” Sam nodded, she had done incredibly thorough questioning to both Quinn and Bailey when they were interviewing potential roommates. “Plus, her dads a cop.”

“And that makes it more likely!” Mindy gestured wildly. “Cop dad is a great cover! Besides, what are the odds, your dad, would get this case?” Mindy crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow at Quinn.

“How the hell would I know?” Quinn crossed her arms, finally seeming to get annoyed by Mindy.

“And lastly, Anika,” she smiled at her girlfriend. “You aren’t clear either.”

Anika’s face fell. “Are you kidding me?” she asked.

“Sorry babe,” Mindy shrugged. Anika just scoffed, crossing her arms and turning her head away as she refused to look at Mindy.

“I think that’s all the suspects,” Mindy said, giving herself a little nod of approval.

“And Y/N,” Sam added. Everyone turned to her with raised eyebrows. “What?” Sam shoved her hands in her pockets. “I just think they should be on the list.”

“I thought you said you haven’t ever spoken to them?” Mindy narrowed her eyes.

“I haven’t.”

“Then why would they be a suspect?” Tara questioned, crossing her arms.

“Because we have the same schedule!” Sam tried to reason. “No matter when I go, no matter what day, or what time, they’re there.”

“Suspicious,” Mindy admitted. “Anything else?”

“They have fighting experience. Not sure how much but I’ve seen them train, they definitely know what they’re doing.”

Sam continued to ramble on about you. She told them once again about how similar your schedules seemed, even when it was well after midnight and there was no one else there you’d show up. She talked all about the kind of people you did talk to and how you were otherwise reserved. Then she got into your workout and mentioned how much you lift and how much you focus on either sparring with someone or hitting the punching bag. When Sam was finished revealing all her observations about you, she looked around at the others. Everyone was looking back at her with raised eyebrows, she was going to assume they were just shocked by her keen observation skills.

“They are pretty badass,” Chad added, holding a finger up. “I hate to admit it because they seem so cool,” he let out a little chuckle. “But the way they fought that dude in the ring,” he let out an impressed whistle. “I’d hate to see what they’d do to an enemy.”

Everyone’s face slowly morphed into one of worry. Ethan and Quinn gave each other a look of concern and Tara looked at Sam as if Sam would have a solution to their problem. Sam could only offer her sister a comforting smile, she didn’t know who this new Ghostface was, but she wouldn’t let him hurt Tara.

“Okay, we’ll add them to the list,” Mindy agreed.

Sam nodded. A part of her felt a little guilty for suspecting you of such heinous things when you’ve only ever been nice, but she couldn’t take the risk. She dated Richie for months and he betrayed and used her, she hadn’t even spoken a single word to you. Sam didn’t have a real reason to suspect you, besides the fact that you went to the same gym, which a lot of people went to, but none of them had even close to the same random schedule she did, and she had never seen any of them fight like you could. She hoped you were just the cute stranger from her gym though, and not some psychopath. But she knew her life, there was no way her first crush since Richie was just a normal person that went to her gym, and all the other stuff, the stuff that drew her to you, was just coincidence, she wasn’t that lucky.

After being satisfied with their suspect list everyone went their separate ways with most of them going to class, while Sam went to work. Sam managed to get home and change but didn’t have time for a nap before having to head to her job. She managed to make it to the diner she worked at, just before she had to clock in.

Sam tried to focus on work and not let her mind wander to Ghostface and what was happening. She ignored the way people kept glancing at her, she ignored the articles she saw on their phones when she came to fill their coffee cups, she ignored the way customers bumped into her, spilling their milkshakes, ketchup, and syrup all over her. She ignored it all, she put on her fake smile and apologized to the next person who bumped into her.

Sam glanced at her phone every time she had a spare moment, when she knew, she wouldn’t get caught by her boss. She ordered everyone to text her throughout the day, so she’d know they were okay. She ordered her sister though to text her every fifteen minutes, Tara had rolled her eyes, but she had been doing it, if Sam didn’t hear from Tara within the time frame she would try calling first and then head off to wherever Tara was supposed to be.

When Sam’s shift finally finished, she rushed home, ignoring the way everyone was lounging in the living room once again as she ran to her bedroom. She didn’t have long before she needed to be at her therapy appointment, and she needed to shower and change first. She moved as quick as she could, showering long enough to get rid of the diner smell but not long enough to actually enjoy having the water rain down on her.

“I have therapy tonight,” Sam said as she rushed around the living room, ignoring her still damp hair. “I’ll be back later.” Tara nodded. “Be careful, stay inside, and don’t unlock the door for anyone.” Sam gave all of them a pointed look.

“We know,” Tara sighed. “You be careful too,” she whispered.

Sam smiled at her sister, giving everyone a quick wave goodbye before making her way out the door. She made sure to lock all the locks and double check herself before walking down the stairs. Her neighbor Danny offered her a kind smile, holding the door open for her as he was coming, and she was going. Sam did a quick check of her surroundings before shoving her hands in her pocket and began making her way to her therapy appointment.

Before Sam knew it, she was sitting in her therapist’s office, pulling at her sweater as she refused to look her therapist in the eye. She hadn’t been seeing the woman very long, she was seeing a guy for a while but when he learned her dad was Billy Loomis, he basically stopped being helpful. When Sam found Doctor Williams, Sam had started the first session by telling her all about her father, if this therapist wasn’t going to be helpful either Sam figured she might as well figure it out right away instead of wasting all her time and money.

“We’ve been sitting in silence for twenty minutes,” Doctor Williams said, not looking up from her notepad as she continued to write something down. Sam wasn’t sure what the doctor could be writing considering she had yet to speak. “Your session is only an hour long, if you want to talk,” she glanced at her watch. “You might want to think about starting soon.”

Sam frowned and flicked a glare at Williams. “I met someone,” Sam said, breaking the ice.

“That’s good,” Williams smiled, setting down her notepad and pen. “How has that been?”

“Well, I haven’t exactly talked to them yet.”

“How-How does that work?” Williams furrowed her brow.

“We go to the same gym,” Sam nodded along with her words. She was sure this was probably making her sound even crazier than she already seemed. “We’ve shared looks and a few nods,” Sam smiled to herself

She didn’t miss the small smile still on Williams’s face. “And what’s stopping you from talking to them?”

Sam’s eyes drifted down to the carpet, she pursed her lips, nodding to herself. “I think someone is trying to kill me and my sister again.” She looked up to see William’s staring at her with wide eyes. “And they’re on the suspect list,” Sam gave a little shrug.

Williams opened and closed her mouth a few times, clearly trying to process her words. “You think the person you like is trying to kill you?” Williams said slowly.

“Well, not just them, everyone’s a suspect.” Williams nodded unsurely. “I’m not being paranoid,” Sam tried to assure. “At least I don’t think I am,” she shook her head. “Tara always says I’m too paranoid but this time there’s a legitimate reason.”

Sam’s words slowly died down as Doctor Williams raised her hand. “Let’s start from the beginning,” Williams said softly.

Sam swallowed, ringing her hands as she tried to calm her nerves. “There was a murder last night. Two boys in Tara’s class killed their professor.” Williams furrowed her brow. “Then someone murdered them in their apartment.” Williams opened her mouth, but Sam wasn’t done yet. “There’s no proof, but the killings might have been committed by Ghostface.”

“And what makes you think this is Ghostface? Are you sure he’s not just on your mind, it’s around that time of year, no?”

Sam clenched her hands together. “The two students, they were fanatics,” she rolled her eyes. “Fans of Richie apparently. They were planning on killing me and my sister, but someone killed them first.”

“And you think that someone is Ghostface?”

Sam nodded. “Ghostface would never let two kids,” she scoffed. “Take out me and my sister. Not that they could,” she ran a hand through her hair.

Before Doctor Williams could say anything else the timer went off, signaling the end of their session. “See, you next week, I guess.” Sam gave a shy smile as she got up from the couch.

“Wait, I don’t want you to do anything rash,” Williams rushed, following behind her but Sam was already out the door.

Sam checked her surroundings once again as she exited the building. She began her walk back to the apartment. When she got back to the apartment, she saw everyone still in the living room. “We got pizza,” Tara said, nodding to the box on the table. Sam snapped a glare at her sister as she dropped her keys into the bowl by the door. “Anika went to pick it up,” Tara held up her hands, but Sam didn’t miss the eyeroll.

Sam sighed, shaking her head at her sister as she made her way to her room. She got ready for bed, but her mind wouldn’t stop. She kept thinking about the killings, about Ghostface potentially being back, and who they could trust.

Taglist: @thatshyboy1998

[kaces-graham-crackers]

Stirring the Quiet - Brewin' Between the Lines

Jenna Ortega x Female Reader

Summary: Y/N is still reeling from her run-in with her favorite actress, Jenna Ortega, as she tries to keep things cool in The Daily Grind. Between casual conversation and a shared love for horror novels, the lines between star and stranger begin to blur. As the café empties out and the night winds down, an unexpected moment catches them both off guard—proving that sometimes, the best connections are brewed in the quietest of moments.

Word Count: 1.5k

As I poured the caramel syrup into the iced coffee, my mind raced, replaying the moment Jenna Ortega pulled down her mask. My hands were slightly shaky, trying to maintain focus as I finished off the whipped cream swirl on top. It wasn't every day your favorite actress sat just a few feet away, waiting for you to bring her a drink. The—Jenna Ortega. It wasn't just any celebrity—this was her. I'd admired her ever since her performance on Wednesday. A week ago, I was geeking out to my friends after watching her take on the role of Astrid Deetz in Tim Burton's Beetlejuice Beetlejuice. When she appeared as a cameo in that recent Sabrina Carpenter music video, I was convinced she could do no wrong. I'd followed her career for years, through every role, every transformation. And now here she was, casually sitting in my café, probably just wanting to be treated like anyone else.

But it wasn't just anyone else to me. This was the actress I had looked up to for years, and I was the one making her coffee. I could already feel my face growing warm with the realization, but I pushed the thoughts aside. Stay calm, Y/N. It's just coffee. As I finished the drink, placing it neatly on the counter next to a napkin, I took a deep breath and reached for the tray, trying to look like I wasn't about to freak out. Just as I turned to deliver the order, Wilma emerged from the back, wiping her hands on her apron. She gave me a sideways glance, then noticed the look on my face. She smirked, walking over with a bounce in her step. "So, how's Hoodie holding up?" she asked, leaning against the counter, clearly entertained by whatever she thought was happening. "You look like you've seen a ghost or something."

I tried to play it off. "It's nothing—just another customer, you know?" Wilma wasn't buying it. Her smirk widened as she crossed her arms. "Uh-huh. Just another customer? The same one who's been looking over their shoulder thrice this week? Oh, please." She leaned closer, her voice lowering like she was about to spill the juicest secret. "You're acting like your celebrity crush just walked in or something." I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks and quickly shook my head. "Wilma, seriously, it's nothing. Just another order." But Wilma raised an eyebrow, completely unconvinced. She wasn't going to let this go. "Just another order, huh? You've got that look, Y/N. I know that look. Spill it." She glanced toward the booth, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. "Wait a minute...don't tell me. Jenna Ortega? Oh my God—it's her, isn't it? I shot her a desperate look, hoping to shut her down before she made a scene. "Wilma—" But she was already grinning ear to ear, loving every second of this. "Holy crap, Jenna—freakin'—Ortega is in our café! And I threw you right into it! This is too good." I sighed, knowing there was no way I could stop her now. "Wilma, keep your voice down! She's just trying to be left alone." Wilma's eyes sparkled, totally unfazed. "Well, aren't you the lucky one? Getting to talk to your celebrity crush? And here I thought you'd hide behind the counter all day." She gave me a playful nudge, clearly enjoying herself. I huffed, trying to control the blush that was now spreading across my face. "I didn't have a choice. You practically pushed me into it." Wilma laughed, crossing her arms, satisfied with how things had turned out. "Well, looks like my plan worked. And now, you've got a story to tell." I glared at her, though I couldn't help the small smile tugging at my lips. "Yeah, yeah. Thanks for the assist, I guess." "Anytime," she replied, still grinning. "Now go deliver that coffee before it melts. Don't want to keep Jenna waiting, do you?" I took one final breath to calm my nerves, grabbed the tray with Jenna's iced coffee, and shot Wilma one last look as I headed toward the booth. "You're enjoying this way too much." Wilma winked. "Oh, absolutely."

With the tray in hand, I made my way toward Jenna's booth, taking slow, deliberate steps, trying not to trip over anything that could make this moment even more awkward. My heart was still hammering in my chest, and I swore I could feel Wilma's eyes burning a hole in the back of my head as she watched me. Jenna hadn't noticed me yet. She was sitting in the booth, quietly absorbed in a book. Her fingers absentmindedly traced the edges of the page as she read, the soft glow from her phone resting nearby. For a second, I hesitated, not wanting to interrupt her peaceful moment, but I had to deliver the iced coffee she was waiting for. I cleared my throat quietly, just enough to catch her attention. "Your iced coffee," I said, setting the tray down gently on the table. She blinked, looking up from her book, pulling her hood back slightly as she met my gaze. A small, genuine smile tugged at her lips. "Thanks," she said softly, closing the book but keeping her finger between the pages to hold her place. "No problem," I replied, stepping back and clasping my hands in front of me, trying to act casual. My eyes flickered to the book in her lap; the title was just barely visible. I recognized it immediately— it was a classic horror novel I'd read a few years back. Of course, she's into horror. She caught me looking, and instead of feeling awkward, I smiled. "So...do you come here to escape, or is this just your go-to spot for caramel iced coffee?" Jenna smirked, taking a sip before answering. "A little bit of both. It's hard to find places like this in Hollywood—where people don't care who you are." "We're not big on the whole celebrity worship thing," I replied. "I mean, everyone needs their coffee fix, right?" "Exactly." She smiled again, this time wider, her eyes lighting up. There was something refreshing about the way she relaxed here. It felt like she wasn't just Jenna Ortega, the star of the screen, but a regular person looking for a little peace. I noticed the book still resting in her lap. "is that The Haunting of Hill House?" Her eyebrows lifted slightly, and she was clearly surprised I recognized it. "Yeah, it is," she replied, glancing down at the cover. I've read it before but thought I'd revisit it."

I nodded, a bit of my nervousness fading. "Good choice. Shirley Jackson really knows how to mess with your head, right?" Jenna's smile widened a little as she leaned back in her seat. "Exactly. It's one of my favorites. Creepy, but in a subtle way." I found myself relaxing, the conversation flowing more easily than I expected. "Yeah, the tension in that book...you just feel it building, and you don't even realize you're holding your breath until something happens." She chuckled, nodding in agreement. "Right? I love that feeling when a book gets under your skin." For a brief second, I forgot she was Hollywood's it girl. She was just another person who loved horror novels, just like me. "Well, I'll leave you to it," I said, realizing I'd been lingering too long. "But if you need anything else, just let me know." Jenna picked up her iced coffee and smiled. "Thanks. I will." I turned and headed back to the counter, feeling Wilma's eyes follow suit the whole time.

The second I made it behind the counter, she sidled up next to me with a wide grin. "Sooo? How'd it go, mascot?" she teased, elbowing me. I huffed, rolling my eyes. "I didn't die, if that's what you're asking." Wilma laughed, leaning against the counter. "Oh, come on, spill. Did you chat with her? Did she say anything?" "Yeah, we talked a little," I admitted, feeling the blush creep back onto my face. "She was reading The Haunting of Hill House—you know, classic horror stuff. I tried to keep it cool." Wilma raised an eyebrow. "And?" "And she was super chill about everything. We even geeked out over Shirley Jackson." Wilma's grin widened. "Looks like Jenna approves of your horror knowledge and barista skills. You must be so proud." I groaned, shaking my head. "Please stop." She shrugged, smirk, plastered. "Hey, who knows? Maybe she'll come back just for you." I sighed, rolling my eyes. "If she does, I'll need more than coffee to calm my nerves next time." Wilma chuckled, raising an eyebrow. "Nerves? More like butterflies." I shot her a look but couldn't help smirking. "Yeah, and hopefully, I don't spill anything on myself next time." Wilma nodded, raising her hands in mock surrender. "Fair enough, superstar. Just remember me when you're living the high life." I glanced back at Jenna's booth one last time. She was already back in her book, occasionally sipping her iced coffee with a relaxed expression. "I guess we'll see in the future."

Three hours until closing, the café had settled into a familiar lull. A handful of customers lingered in their cozy corners, sipping the last of their drinks and enjoying the quiet, low hum of conversation around them. I busied myself behind the counter, wiping it down out of habit, but as I worked, I couldn't help but feel proud. This is exactly the vibe we had hoped for when Wilma and I opened The Daily Grind—a safe haven for anyone who wanted to escape the hustle and bustle of Hollywood, whether they were famous or not. Our little café has become a sanctuary where the pressure of being judged is nonexistent. It was calm, cozy, and welcoming—a little quiet in a city of lights, cameras, and action.

The cafe itself radiated that comforting atmosphere. The evening sun filtered through the tall windows, casting a warm amber glow over the space. The walls were painted in soft, earthy tones—warm beige and deep mocha—creating an atmosphere that wrapped around you like your favorite blanket. String lights twinkled gently overhead, casting a soft, golden light across the mismatched cushioned chairs and rustic wooden tables. Above the tables, lush green plants dangled from the ceiling in macramé holders, their vines cascading down like little waterfalls of greenery, adding a fresh, earthy scent to the room. The plants brought a touch of nature inside, softening the edges of the café's industrial-chic décor. The air was filled with the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the faint scent of vanilla candles that burned on the windowsills. The rest of the evening went by quietly, with a comforting rhythm of soft chatter and the occasional clink of mugs. I was leaning over the counter, enjoying the calm, when Wilma came up beside me, holding a pink box. "Hey, mascot," she said, nudging me gently. "It's three hours to closing. Why don't you take this over to Prima?" She lifted the lid to reveal a perfectly frosted strawberry donut with rainbow sprinkles. "Prima?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at the nickname. Wilma smirked. "Yeah, Prima. It means 'first' in Spanish—like the top of her game. She's Hollywood's leading lady, right? It fits." I rolled my eyes but took the box from her. "You and your nicknames." "Hey, it's fitting. Now go give her the donut before I eat it myself," Wilma replied with a chuckled.

As I made my way over to Jenna's booth, I could feel the familiar flutter of nerves returning. She was still engrossed in her book, oblivious to the world around her. I cleared my throat softly as I approached, setting the box on the table. "Hey, I thought you might like this," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "It's on the house." Jenna looked up, blinking in surprise. "A donut?" She smiled, peeking inside the box. "With sprinkles?" "Strawberry frosted with sprinkles," I replied a little too quickly. "One of my favorites." Her smile widened, and she closed her book, giving the donut her full attention. "Thank you. This is...really sweet of you. Literally." I laughed softly, suddenly feeling a bit less nervous. "Well, we figured you could use a treat, seeing as you've been hanging out here for a while." Jenna nodded, taking the donut from the box and tearing off a piece. "This place is a perfect hideaway. I don't think I've ever felt this...relaxed in public." "Well, that's exactly what we aim for," I said, smiling as she took a bite of the donut. Jenna smirked and raised an eyebrow, her eyes glinting playfully. "And here I thought you were going to spill the sugar again." I chuckled, feeling the heat creep up my neck. "Hey, I managed to keep it together this time. Progress, right?" She smiled. "I'll give you that. But if you need a backup plan, I think the sprinkled donut would cover for any future spills."

Fifty minutes before closing. I was wiping down the counters when Wilma came up beside me, pulling off her apron and holding her bag. "Hey, mascot," she said, glancing at the clock. "I've gotta head out. Time to pick up the little monsters from soccer practice." I raised an eyebrow. "The twins?" She nodded, rolling her eyes. "Yup, those two can't stay out of trouble. If I don't get there on time, they'll probably have convinced the coach to let them play goalie...at the same time." I chuckled. "Good luck with that. Go, save the day." Wilma gave me a dramatic sigh. "You know me, always the hero. But seriously, are you okay with closing up tonight?" "Yeah, I've got it. It's a quiet night." Wilma smirked. "Alright, just don't let Prima keep you past closing. She's still over there, right?" I glanced over toward Jenna's usual booth and shrugged. "I think so. She's been pretty quiet. Probably lost in her book." Wilma, adjusting her bag on her shoulder. "Well, don't let her charm you too much. I'll see you tomorrow, mascot." With that, she gave me a quick wave and hurried out the door, leaving me alone to finish up the last stretch of the evening. The café slowly emptied out, and as I tidied up, I assumed Jenna had left too. After all, I hadn't noticed her in a while. But as I wiped down the tables and put the chairs up, I glanced over at the window and froze.

She was still there

Curled up in her hoodie, her head resting against the window, she looked peaceful, completely engulfed in her book. Her iced coffee was finished, and the remains of the sprinkled donut sat on the napkin, crumbs scattered on it. It was only twenty minutes until closing, and I realized I'd have to get her attention. I changed from my apron and walked over. "Jenna?" I called softly, not wanting to startle her. She didn't respond, enthralled with the pages. After another unsuccessful attempt, I reached out and gently tapped her shoulder. She jumped slightly, eyes widening in surprise as she looked up at me. "Hey," she said softly, clearly shaken out of her book-induced daze. I chuckled, stepping back. "Sorry, I hate to bother you, but it's closing time." Jenna blinked, glancing around the now-empty cafe. Her cheeks turned a light shade of pink as she realized she was the last one there. "Oh, wow, I didn't even notice. Sorry about that." "No problem," I said, giving her a reassuring smile. "Take your time packing up." I tried to make the situation less awkward as she gathered her things. "You know, I've really enjoyed watching you in... well, everything," I admitted, feeling a bit shy. "Especially Wednesday and Beetlejuice 2. But I've been a fan of your work for a long time." Jenna smiled, her expression softening. "Thank you. That means a lot."

She slung her bag over her shoulder and paused, glancing at me curiously. Actually, can I ask you something?" I blinked. "Of course." "What's your honest opinion of my acting? I always like hearing what people outside the industry think. It's...different." Surprised by the question, I hesitated for a moment, but then I nodded. "Honestly? I think you're amazing. Every time you're on screen, it's like... all eyes are on you. You make it look so effortless like you become the character. It's impressive." Jenna's cheeks turned a little pink again, and this time, I knew it wasn't my imagination. "Wow," she said softly. "That's...probably the nicest feedback I've heard in a while. Thank you." We walked out of the café together, and I didn't realize she'd been walking with me to my car until we reached the lot. We stood there, lingering momentarily, both of us realizing simultaneously. Jenna giggled lightly. "Looks like I walked you to your car instead of the other way around. Guess you've got me charmed after all." I laughed, feeling my own cheeks heat up. Before I could respond, two men in casual clothing approached us from the side, startling me. I froze, eyes wide, but Jenna remained calm. "Don't scare her like that," Jenna said, scolding the men. "Apologize." "Sorry, ma'am, one of the men said quickly, looking genuinely sorry. "They're my bodyguards," Jenna explained, turning to me. "They're with me 24/7, but I told them to give me space in the café. Guess they couldn't resist checking in." I let out a breath, feeling relieved. "That makes sense. We've got a security guard next door at the boutiqué, so I get it. I've also seen bodyguards hang out in the café, keeping an eye on things." Jenna nodded, smiling. "I'll have to bring them in next time for a coffee." I grinned. "Yeah, and I'll have to tell you about the crazy stuff I've seen. We've got some funny bodyguard stories." Jenna raised an eyebrow, her smile playful. "I'll hold you to that. Sounds like a promise," "It's a promise," I said, trying to keep my voice steady though my heart was racing. As Jenna opened her car door, she paused.

"By the way, I never got your name." "Oh," I stammered. "It's Y/N. But everyone calls me Y/N/N." "Nice to meet you officially, Y/N," she said with a smile. "I'm Jenna, but you already knew that." I laughed. "Oh, you're Jenna Ortega! No way you looked familiar!" She laughed, waving as she climbed into the car, her bodyguards following suit. I watched them drive off, and once she was out of sight, I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. I climbed into my own car, pressing my hands to my face and letting out a small squeal into the steering wheel. "I guess Wilma was right again...she's never going to let me live this one down," I muttered dreamily, starting the engine with a grin still plastered on my face.

[thoughtsonkm]

Goodbye, for now

BABY? HONEY? BOYFRIEND SHOT? Jikook you're too much!

This episode was truly the best way to end the show, maybe even the best episode of the series. (Neck in neck with episode 2 of course) The way they enjoyed it so much but were also so sad it was over. The hot tension all around, the soft boyfriends mood who can't stop flirting and name calling each other with the most low-key couple-like sweet names. They could not stop laughing, they could not stop touching and they couldn't stop being hilarious without even trying.

~

SK Spotify daily chart end of November 2023 :

Jimin Jungkook Jimin Jungkook Jimin Jimin

~

It would be such a full circle moment if Jimin posted the boyfriend photo (which won't happen). Would almost be like a soft launch of some sort.

Not the underwear too?? Gosh I love my little gay freaks!! (didn't understand why Jimin would quote their 'yet another inner joke meme' right at that moment but I've learned to not question their inner workings)

~

Sorry but i have to be pretty one last time and say that I kinda had enough of seeing so much from the crew around or even in Jikook's shots and angles. It breaks the fourth wall a little too much and ruins the whole bubble idea. Ok I'm done lol

~

Returning to the issue at hand, the "seeing the beds for the first time" scene keeps getting funnier and funnier. As if they don't already have designated sides of the bed 😏

~

Ah the never ending bickering gives me life. Peep the half korean half english talk when they playfully get on each others nerves 👀😂

I better not speak on the scuzzi jacuzzi shenanigans cause otherwise.. Let's just say the photo speaks for itself..

NO YOU KNOW WHAT IMMA SPEAK. We all know that jacuzzi time is always intimate, relaxing and personal for people that's why I wish Jikook had enjoyed it fully without cameras. Yes I'm pissed on their behalf, that they had to film the whole thing with 382929 different angles. lol

His face is literally saying "oh so you're really gonna make me do it huh? if I was in your place I would've folded immediately and would've never let you go through with it!!" 😂

~

No one ever:

Jikook every 2sec : HONEY OH HONEY

(I was actually listening to the song while writing this and idk why it's so funny to me even tho it's a sad love ballad)

~

They must've loved getting the chance to at least see one episode of the show, plus the idea of watching it together..

Jungkook being so entertained by it meanwhile Jimin being mortified about half of the things that happened. HILARIOUS

HAHAHHAHAHA all parties were concerned if they'd be able to pull it off, I can't

BEST BELIEVE they're always gonna find a way to touch. Consciously or unconsciously.

~

This show made me realize that my favourite thing ever is Jk making food for Jimin, then making him hysterically laugh and therefore getting to hear Jimin's adorable giggles.

~

"Hello it is I the one and only, the only one who can touch Jimin's head ble ble ble ble" - JK

Jk was like: How can you imagine Jimin without me in your dream? Are you crazy? What is this delusional dream world you live in Jin hyung??

~

Tbh it's so meaningful and a huge thing saying that these trips were literally the best trips of your life. I think the statement almost went over people's heads.

I can't get enough of Jimin looking pretty and cuddly and Jungkook's immediate thought being: I HAVE TO FILM YOU

Them saying they can do a reboot when they come back gave me some hope that maybe just maybe this is not the end of AYS 😭

The ending bonus clip left me fulfilled but also sad and with goosebumps all over.

Thank you Jimin & Jungkook for letting us peek into this trip and getting to witness some of your precious moments.

Signing off, J&J 🥹

Ps. So I'm guessing the 52 minute video that comes with the photobook is probably the 3 bts videos combined that they've been reviewing for 48392 months right?

[haddonfieldwhore]

sparring partner - hayden christensen

hayden christensen x younger!fem!reader

summary: hayden helps you with lightsaber training for the ahsoka series

warnings: age gap implied (no age specified tho), that might be it? not edited

word count: 1.5k

“i can’t do it,” you resigned, frustrated and tired from trying the same move over and over and not getting it.

“try it again,” the choreographer suggested unhelpfully, and you exhaled in annoyance, mostly at yourself, before getting back in position. you doubted that the thirtieth time could possibly go any differently than the previous twenty nine attempts, but tried the steps again anyway; no luck. it didn’t look this complicated when you had first been shown the fight choreo, but for some reason you just couldn’t nail down this specific spin. you and natasha, who played sabine, were supposed to meet in about half an hour to practice the fight together before shooting the scene next week, and you had shown up an hour early to try and get your moves down. you felt like you hadn’t made any progress at all.

“take 10 minutes, get some water,” the choreographer suggested, and you nodded, wiping the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand.

you sat down on the floor and leaned back against the wall, closing your eyes with a defeated sigh, your prop lightsaber clattering to the ground next to you. a shadow fell over your face and your brows furrowed slightly in confusion at the sudden darkness.

“hey, how’s it going?” a voice asked and you opened your eyes to see hayden standing in front of you.

“not so great,” you admitted. you hadn’t gotten the chance to work with hayden much yet while filming ahsoka, but anytime he stopped by the set to see how things were going, you enjoyed talking with him, and greatly appreciated any input or advice he offered. you had always admired him as an actor. hayden tried to convince himself that it was coincidence that every time he came by set you happened to be training or shooting that day.

“what’s wrong?” he asked, a look of concern on his face.

“i can’t get this one part of the choreography,” you admitted with a sigh, and he extended his hand to you, pulling you up off the floor once you slid your hand into his grip.

“show me?” he asked.

“i can try,” you laughed dryly as he got a prop saber of his own and stood next to you, giving you enough space to demonstrate the move as best you could.

you managed to get through the steps, although with the smoothness of a droid that had never been oiled and at about a quarter the speed they should be, but it was enough for hayden to get the general idea.

he slowly repeated the steps, with slightly more grace than you had, and then instructed for you to follow along with him. after a few tries and a great display of patience from hayden, you made it through the sequence and it almost looked good.

“how are you so good at this?” you asked, trying not to let the jealousy you were feeling come out in your voice, as without him you never would have got it.

“i’ve had more practice than you, that’s all,” he smiled reassuringly. “try it again on your own,” he instructed, taking a step back.

you fumbled through the movements again, and groaned in frustration when you made a mistake again.

“it’s hopeless,” you surrendered.

“come on, you can do it,” hayden encouraged, but you shook your head.

“i can’t, i’ve been trying forever and i just can’t get it.”

“i thought you wanted to do this,” he challenged, and you were slightly taken aback by his words.

“i do-“

“then prove it,” he said, his stance changing to invite a duel.

“hayden, im not going to fight you,” you sighed, though amused.

“why not?” he taunted. “afraid to lose?”

“you have years more training than i do-“ you stopped your complaint as you had to raise the saber in your hands to stop a swing from the man in front of you.

“now you’re just making excuses,” he taunted with a smile, and you retaliated with a swing of your own that he blocked with ease. you traded blows back and forth, the crew taking a step back as the two of you duelled back and forth. to no one’s surprise, hayden had the upper hand, and you ended up dropping your prop saber, and stared up to meet hayden’s eyes as he held the blade of his across your throat, hovering just centimetres below your chin as you both caught your breath.

“not bad,” he complimented, and you felt a sense of pride.

“thanks,” you smiled, your eyes flickering down to his lips, the corner on his mouth still upturned, and your gaze landed on his eyes again, which were still locked on you. your heart pounded against your ribcage as you put your hand on his that still held the saber at your throat, and lowered it gently before you took a step back.

“sorry,” he apologized, and you shook your head as if to say it wasn’t needed. “i knew you could do it though.”

“what do you mean?” you questioned, tilting your head to the side in confusion, which hayden couldn’t help but feel guilty for finding quite cute.

“the move, you did it,” he said like it was obvious. you realized that without even thinking, during the duel with hayden you had in fact successfully executed the move sequence that had been stumping you all morning.

“that was great,” the fight choreographer said as he approached the two of you. “it’s too bad you two don’t have a scene in the show, your chemistry is great.”

“thank you,” you both replied, and the choreographer offered you an extra five minutes to rest, since you had spent your previous break practicing.

“think you can do it again now?” hayden asked encouragingly, and you nodded, but you felt nervous. what if it was a fluke? you were annoyed enough at yourself as it was, and the added pressure of not wanting to embarrass yourself in front of hayden wasn’t helping.

however, you took a deep breath, and to your relief, managed the move with little difficulty this time.

“i did it?” you smiled, but it sounded more like a question, and hayden couldn’t help but laugh. “i did it!” you repeated, and couldn’t stop yourself from throwing your arms around his shoulders in a hug. you could feel his body tense in surprise, but he relaxed and circled his arms around your back, a chuckle shaking through his chest.

“i knew you could do it.”

“thank you,” you smiled. “i couldn’t have done it without you.”

you separated, though your eyes met again briefly, a thickness hanging in the air between you until you heard footsteps approaching. you turned to see natasha walking up to the two of you. neither of you had noticed how long she’d been watching the two of you duel, but she was impressed.

“nice moves,” she complimented, bumping your shoulder playfully. the two of you had grown close while working on the show, and you were looking forward to shooting this fight with her.

“thanks, i had a really good teacher,” you complimented, sending hayden a glance.

natasha noticed the way his smile lit up his eyes as he looked at you, and made a mental note to bug you about it later.

“i can’t take all the credit, it was all you,” he insisted, the two of you lost in your own world, and natasha wondered if she was suddenly invisible.

“well, you ready to practice?” she snapped you out of the trance you were in, and you nodded. “if you didn’t tire her out too much, that is,” she teased. hayden felt a blush rise to his cheeks, and he found himself grateful that you were looking the other way and therefore didn’t notice.

“let’s go,” you agreed, and she grabbed a prop saber and walked over to set down her bag.

“i’ll catch up with you later?” hayden asked, and you smiled.

“i’d like that,” you smiled, and he tapped your shoulder gently, his fingertips sending a shiver down your spine. “thanks again, hayden.”

“anytime.” with that he turned and walked over to some of the crew to talk with them as you met natasha on the other side of the room.

“was i interrupting something?” she teased, and your brow raised innocently.

“what do you mean?”

“you and hayden..?” she asked, like it was obvious. “you guys were having a moment when i walked up.”

“it wasn’t a ‘moment’, he was just helping me,” you disagreed, though you wouldn’t mind if it had been a ‘moment’, whatever that meant.

“hmm, okay,” natasha hummed teasingly, unconvinced. “is that why he’s still watching you?”

you casually glanced over to see that hayden was in fact looking your way, and he smiled when he met your gaze before continuing his conversation with the crew.

“that doesn’t mean anything-“

“if you say so. now come on, let’s practice.” she teased, and you rolled your eyes before she went on.

“loverboy will be there later.”

disclaimer: all screenshots, events, and/or interactions depicted in this are a work of fiction. i have no association with any parties mentioned

[stellayuta]

Racing Hearts! - F1 Driver! Gojo Satoru (A LOTG spinoff)

synopsis: Ferrari sensation Gojo Satoru dominates headlines and social media with his unmatched driving prowess and intriguing personal life. Yet, beneath the surface, Gojo harbors a secret that could shake up the F1 world. An unrelenting F1 journalist, determined to unearth the truth, becomes his unexpected adversary—one who might finally expose the enigma that is Gojo Satoru.

content: formula one x jujutsu kaisen, eventual enemies to lovers, angst, themes of isolation, mental health themes, swearing

author's note: I've decided that we all deserve F1 Gojo as much as we deserved F1 Yuta. Hope the jjk and formula one fans enjoy this. This will be much more drama packed than LOTG. Keep following along!

word count: 2k

When the strongest roars across the asphalt, the crowd sees burning red

-

Satoru Gojo lounges lazily on his plush, red velvet, king-sized bed, eyeing his mail with curiosity. He holds a dainty pink envelope up to the light, squinting to make out the words through the paper screen. Carefully, he tears it open, revealing a letter and a photograph: a glossy snapshot of one of his closest friends and fellow drivers, Yuta Okkotsu. Yuta, dressed in a sleek, emerald tuxedo, is smiling dreamily at his fiancée, who is cradled in his arms in a princess carry. They look good, Gojo thinks. Yuta has regained his glow over the past year; in fact, he seems to have put on a few pounds of healthy weight.

Gojo fishes out the letter next. Dyed a flowery shade of baby pink similar to the envelope and stamped with red words, it reads: We are getting married, and you are invited!

Bummer. He was 99.9% sure he'd be asked to officiate. But alas.

He shakes his head comically as he reads further.

"Kindly do not bring any gifts, only your blessings. If you feel like gifting something, please donate to a charity of your choice!"

Tacky much. If he were in their place, he definitely would have asked for extravagant gifts. But given how Yuta's brain works and how much his fiancée mirrors him, Gojo isn't surprised in the slightest.

What does surprise him though is the last line in the letter, highlighting the best man and the maid of honor. The best man isn't his mates from his early racing days, Geto or Gojo. But Inumaki...

"Seriously, Okkotsu?" Gojo gawks at the letter dramatically and then shoves it away from him. Must be nice. To have a small circuit of friends, a good team, a hot fiancée, a quiet, successful life.

Must be nice.

He skeptically eyes the collection of trophies that decorate the wall opposite to his bed. Some golds from Melbourne, Suzuka, Sao Paolo, Silverstone. A few silvers and bronzes from the American and Asian legs. No driver's championship yet.

Gojo joined Ferrari at just 20 years old as their golden boy, and now, after eight years with the team, he had experienced many successful runs—but never a victory. He had finished second six times until Okkotsu entered the scene and began dominating the field, pushing him to third in the championship standings. Despite his outwardly charismatic and confident persona, the pressure of failing to deliver Ferrari their long-awaited win gnawed at him like a thousand needles.

The prince of Ferrari was yet to become their king. But perhaps, the prince will never grow up enough to be a king.

He tries to shoo the depressing thoughts away. There is no time for depression during the long-awaited summer break.

He needed to get out of the house, that would do the trick.

Gojo swings his legs out of bed, stretching lazily as his bare feet sink into the soft, imported carpet beneath him. His house, perched on a hill overlooking the sparkling Mediterranean Sea, is a gleaming example of his lavish lifestyle in Monaco. The sleek, modern architecture—glass walls, sharp lines, and white stone—gives it a futuristic edge. Even the driveway has an air of luxury, with its tasteful selection of Italian sports cars parked under the evening sun.

The dusk is warm, the salty breeze from the sea cutting through the air, ruffling his silver hair and putting on his sunglasses as he steps out of the front door.

*ka-chick*

"Huh?" Gojo's ears perk up and he looks around to see where the sound came from. Usually, paparazzi hunt their prey in a herd. They are easily recognizable by their incessant catcalling, comments and the barrage of flash noise. Maybe this was a newbie or a paparazzo gone rogue. Gojo shrugs, strikes a pose or two for this invisible photographer and continues on his merry way.

He isn't in the mood for the clubs or the cabarets today. He mostly certainly would prefer a quiet, inconspicuous bar though. He is not much of a drinker, hell he won't even drink the champagne he pops on the podium - but a bar is a perfect place to be incognito. The dim ambience and drunk people - no one would notice him.

He almost passes a shoddy looking establishment and decides to enter it. To his massive relief, it is rather empty. There a blue LEDs lining the bar counter and the ceiling. There's about two couples snogging in the dark corners of the bar and a few lone souls scattered about, too drunk in their sorrows and the alcohol to look up.

So, it's that kind of place. It might be poetic for him to be there, satoru thinks.

Gojo settles into a dimly lit corner of the bar, reclining into the worn leather booth with a relaxed yet cynical smirk. His sunglasses, still perched on his nose despite the low light, reflect the faint blue glow from the LED strips. It’s not a place one would expect to find a Formula 1 superstar like him, and that’s exactly why he’s here. Tonight, he just wants to vanish.

He signals for the bartender, a gruff-looking man with a thick beard and tired eyes. “Vodka, neat,” Gojo says, voice low and lazy. The bartender nods and moves without a word, leaving Gojo to his thoughts.

As he waits, his mind circles back to Yuta. That damn wedding invitation. It shouldn’t bother him, but it does. Yuta Okkotsu—once the rookie he used to coach on the finer points of track politics—had come into his own. Not only was he dominating on the track, but now he was settling down, tying the knot, living the kind of balanced life that Gojo had never allowed himself to dream of. Gojo could dominate in any social setting, but in his private moments, he always felt like something was missing—like he was playing a role, never truly himself.

His phone buzzes in his pocket. Gojo pulls it out, half-expecting spam but instead, it’s a message from an unexpected friend.

Geto Suguru: Get the invite yet?

Gojo satoru: Sure did. Gonna go?

Geto Suguru: Well, of course. Won't you?

Gojo Satoru: I'm having second thoughts. After he picked Inumaki as his best man. What speech is Inumaki even going to give, I swear I've never heard him speak!

As Gojo waits for a reply, the bartender slides him a stout glass full of clear liquid, reeking of spirit. Gojo takes a small sip that burns his palate and throat. He never drinks, what was he thinking.

He tries savoring the bitter aftertaste and the buzz hitting his brain as he sees the shadows on his tables shift.

He looks up from under his sunglasses and stares at you who is blocking the light from reaching his table completely. His eyes narrow as he tries to make out your features through the dim, blue-lit haze of the bar. It takes him a second to register who it is, but when he does, his expression lights up, though the usual cocky grin doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

"Well, well, well..." He sings. "Look who's here."

You don't reply back and take a seat across him. The leather on your seat is cracking and reeks of smoke. Could Gojo have not picked a better place to sulk in.

His eyes crinkle at their edges as you notice a slight shift in his expression. He appears to be pitying you.

"Out for my blood again, you leech?" he asks flatly, taking another sip of his drink. You don't recall him being a drinker from your years worth of notes.

"There are better things to drink." you reply, matching his tone as the bartender appears at the table again.

"Ah, miss, anything for you?"

"A bloody mary, please."

"On your tab right, sir?" the bartender looks at Gojo.

"Hell to the NO!" He snaps. "Put her drink on her tab!"

The bartender grimaces at Gojo and leaves, mumbling.

"They'll think you're a monster. Couldn't even pay for his woman's drink?" You prod Gojo, trying to make him break.

"As if anyone would ever think I'd be dating you. Don't embarrass yourself. What do you want from me now?" Gojo demands, crossing his arms against his chest after removing his sunglasses. His piercing blue eyes refuse to look away from you.

"The people need to know... I need to do my job." you state.

"They know enough. They don't need to know any more."

You quickly bring out a notepad, a recorder and press record on it.

"Any comments regarding rumors surrounding your transfer?"

At that moment, you witness the color leaves Gojo's face.

"W-What transfer? I am unsure what you're insinuating here."

"The rumor mill says you will be leaving Ferrari soon due to unsatisfactory performance and unreasonable team strategy. I'll quote you, please say something."

"You can't put those words in my mouth, all of that is-"

Gojo clears his throat and realizes he's now screaming, almost upright on his chair. He sits back to down.

"I am dedicated to Ferrari and their mission to win for this rest of 2024. That's all. Thank you."

You swiftly stop recording and lean over the table.

"So, what after 2024?"

"It's none of your business."

"I told you... this is my job."

"Y/N." His voice softens. "It's been nearly 7 years now. Can you not find any other driver to stalk?"

"I'm fine even if you report about my personal life." He continues. "That's less stressful than all of this."

Gojo's eyes, once sharp with irritation, soften as he leans back in his chair. His posture relaxes slightly, though his fingers still tap impatiently against the glass in his hand. The tension in the air between the two of you is palpable—years of history, unresolved tension, and unspoken words that neither of you have ever truly addressed. His last remark lingers in the dim light of the bar.

“Seven years, huh?” you say, raising an eyebrow. “And yet, here we are. You, still the untouchable star, and me, still chasing after the story that no one else can seem to tell.”

Gojo chuckles, though it lacks the usual arrogance. “Untouchable star? More like a dimming one. I can see it in your eyes. You think this is it for me, don’t you? That I’m washed up. A wasted talent. You can write about all that.”

You don’t reply immediately, watching him instead. The Gojo sitting across from you is different from the man you first met seven years ago. He was all fire and flash back then, burning too bright to let anyone close. But now, the cracks in the façade are starting to show. The endless pressure, the failure to deliver Ferrari’s long-awaited championship, and the gnawing sense of inadequacy have worn him down, whether he admits it or not.

“I don’t think you’re washed up,” you finally say, leaning back in your seat. “But I do think you’re scared.”

His blue eyes narrow slightly, the playful glint fading. “Scared? Of what?”

“Of what happens if you’re not the Satoru Gojo anymore. Of what happens when the lights go out, and the fans move on to the next rising star. What happens when you’re not Ferrari’s golden boy anymore?”

Gojo is speechless for a second after which he downs the remnants of his Vodka.

"I will resign before that happens." he declares.

"And you-" He gets up finally, covering the distance between you and him in a single stride, grabbing your jaw as he looks down at you.

"Move the hell on. It's been seven years. Get a life."

And with that, he pays for both of your drinks, takes his leave - the bar door chiming as it swings shut behind him.

"You are wrong Satoru." you whisper to yourself, letting go of the breath you were holding.

"Seven years. I have waited seven years for this."

You shimmy out your laptop from your bag and prop it open on the table. Quite a few curious eyes turn to see you.

*email sent!*

To be continued.....

[thecoolerliauditore]

Pls tell me about Scott's views on women in general pls I'm begging you

o7 and I'm sorry

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

fyi, the post itself isn't NSFW, but I'll be getting all gender theory in this bitch so I'll be referencing a lot of things and putting in pictures of naked ppl sometimes. maybe skip this one if you don't like that

(long post)

Disclaimers

An explanation for the tweet up there

I usually don't write these because I assume the people on my blog have enough sense to realise when I'm talking about the characters vs the CCs or are comfortable enough being a little confused, but I feel the need to extra-clarify here and expand on how I specifically view C vs CC because I think it differs a little from the average person.

To me, C and CC are two separate entities but not entirely disconnected. What differs (e.g. the exclusion of irl relationships -- their wives, kids, etc.) is poignant enough to severely detach them from the people they originated from, at least in my eyes, but there's also the fact that these are not scripted characters, just creators being themselves with a hint of behind the scenes drama-adding and improv thrown in.

For example, CC Pearl is a car nerd. So I assume her character is too.

This is where I state very clearly that yes, a lot of these thoughts come from things I've seen on Scott's twitter, which is undoubtedly the CC and not the C. However I, to me, am still talking about the C because any observations/judgments I could make on actual irl youtuber CC guy Scott Major would be tabloid at best and slightly invasive at worst. I'm seeing these statements within the context of "the death game guy would say this too and I'm writing this based on that", not "this is the inner psychological workings of the youtuber because I, as a fan, can totally tell".

TLDR I don't consider this post RPF but you might. This is a little more RPF-y than my usual stuff. If you don't rock with it we cool.

Everyone is weird about women, and that's okay

One short-hand I've used in the past to talk about Scott and women is just by saying that he's "weird about women" which I'm sure isn't exclusive to him.

(shitpost I made awhile back)

I see a lot of people now who love "villains" and "evil" but when it comes to any traits resembling real life evil (e.g. misogyny in this case) they suddenly become insecure. Just a couple of days back a saw a post on twitter essentially asking for permission to continue liking CC Scott in spite of the "bad things" he did.

And I think, in order to present an analysis like this, I must address that mindset first.

This is not a judgment on Scott's morality, nor is it trying to dissuade you from liking him. This is not saying that he is any more misogynistic than any other player in the series. This is just me pointing out Scott's attitude towards women and what I read it as, nothing less or more.

The feelings that me pointing these things out - be they apathy, disgust, anger or, what I would hope to see most, interest - are your own. I'm not here to tell anyone how to feel and never will try to police that on my blog.

Scott's Relationships with Women

aka. oh yeah this is about minecraft.

Scott and Cleo || "Yeah, you can kill me."

Scott and Cleo's alliance is arguably the strongest in the entire series, spanning through all five seasons and remaining unbroken with no (serious) drama attached. You'd expect from this that they two have a very settled and stable understanding of eachother, yet this isn't a case.

Their power dynamic shifts dramatically from one season to the next.

3L's initial Widows Alliance began on fairly equal footing, built on the mutual agreement that they were waiting for their respective partners to die. Both understood they were eachothers' "plan B" and felt comfortable in that arrangement.

Come LL, Cleo does what she couldn't in 3L, and initiates that plan, going to Scott after her last alliance, the fairy fort, fell apart. Scott requests nothing from her in return.

DL is the longest the two spent as eachothers main ally. Cleo is the one who initially proposes teaming up to spite their "cheating" soulmates and Scott agrees. Cleo admits to Martyn in private that she's aware she's taking advantage of Scott (which I've always interpreted as her talking about all seasons, not just DL). Due to the time they spend together, it's here where it becomes apparent that their initial assumptions during 3L were not entirely accurate, as Scott shows a level of gameplay competency much higher than Cleo's (e.g. teaching her how to axe-crit) but despite this Scott never berates her or thinks any less of her value as his ally.

LimL is probably this pairing at their most unhinged, as Scott, despite once again asking for nothing (or very little -- I'll be honest I'm a bit fuzzy on this) in return from Cleo, allows them and their allies to butcher him repeatedly for time. He gives more time to the Clockers than he does to Martyn, his closest ally that season. Despite this, Scott is never ever considered as a "family member" by the Clockers, despite them giving that title to even temporary allies (like the Bad Boys being their cousins) -- even Martyn gets a title with Scott completely unattached.

SL is relatively more chill, but shows that the two inevitably end up teaming together even despite their oath to avoid eachother that season.

The point being -- again and again, we see Scott literally and metaphorically making sacrifices for Cleo, with the only real transaction he requires from her being that she continues having his back when times get rough. This is despite that he's aware she isn't any more capable than he is and the fact that so far it has only been Cleo in rough times (LL, LimL and SL) and never Scott.

Speaking from a purely transactional perspective, Scott is not getting a bargain here -- and even Cleo seems acutely aware of it, judging by her comment during DL as well as the way she tends to speak of her survival capabilities very lowly in general ("rubbish pvp skills and spiffy one-liners"). I'm speaking in this sense because I've seen discussions in the past about the transactional way Scott views relationships but rarely does Cleo get brought up.

This is at stark contrast to how he treats Jimmy, whose predicted death was what spurred on Scott and Cleo's alliance in the first place.

Scott assumes Jimmy is "incompetent", where he assumes Cleo is capable. When Jimmy messes up, he reprimands him, when Cleo struggles to crit him, he patiently teaches her. When LL begins, Scott's first instinct was to look at Jimmy's lives and note that he was "useless to (him)", but holds no objections to Cleo joining his alliance despite her already having enemies being a potential liability. In SL, he jokes about how Cleo and him being allied is a given and pretty much expected of them, whereas in LimL he explicitly requests from Jimmy a recognition that he still cares ("say love you back!") before he will help him.

Scott and Gem || "You HAVE TO kill me, Gem,"

In SL, Gem settles in very easily in a leadership position within Gem and the Scotts due to her trying to live up to her reputation but also due to Scott and Impulse's more laid back, passive playstyles.

Both Scott and Impulse let Gem kill them for extra health this season, although Scott is arguably much more subservient than Impulse is, with him not only insisting that she kill him in the final episode but also not fighting back (and only yelling for her to stop) when she starts hitting him with a sword during the episode where her task was to literally kill everyone on the server.

Once again comparing her to Jimmy, Scott in 3L had a tendency to brush aside Jimmy's concerns over alliances (e.g. Jimmy questioning if they could trust Cleo) while in SL Scott runs his plans by Gem (and Pearl and Impulse) in terms of who he wanted to team up with (specifically excluding Joel from the potential mounders alliance) implying he held her opinion in some form of regard.

Before this becomes less of an analysis of Scott's treatment of men vs women and more of Scott's treatment of Jimmy vs everyone else, I think it's notable enough to mention that he and Martyn also lacked this sort of communication in LimL. He would inform Martyn of his plans, but rarely was it ever framed as a request.

SL almost feels as if Scott has slid Gem into the slot he had previously designated for Cleo in 3L (his girlboss ally) as he provides her and pretty much forces onto her by the end the acts of service he'd become accustomed to performing for Cleo.

Scott and Lizzie || "You killed her! I don't.. I don't know what to even say!"

Relatively shorter section because this is the one woman he hasn't teamed with, but there's still some interesting stuff I wanted to touch on.

In LL, one of the first thing Scott does is yell at Pearl to revenge-kill Joel for boogey-killing him. Pearl does as she's told and Joel's wet miserable pathetic LL life gets worse from there.

Several episodes later, the roles are reversed -- Lizzie lies to both of them and manages to isolate and boogey-kill Pearl. Scott, instead of reacting with the anger he had for Joel, is almost in a state of shock as he asks Lizzie to let him down so he could collect Pearl's belongings. He doesn't act aggressively towards Lizzie at all, with his most antagonizing act against her being to lie about his intentions when giving her a wither skull.

In SL, he's the only one aware of her early permadeath, but keeps quiet about it almost as if he's in a state of shock akin to when he saw Lizzie kill Pearl in LL. It's not until the others have noticed when he finally brings it up.

Scott and Pearl || "Tilly death do us 'part"

I wrote a whole post just for their relationship alone so for the sake of my sanity I'll be leaving this here.

So now I get to dedicate this section to the meat of this post -- how the way Scott treats women in general impacts his relationship with Pearl and how I view his heel-turn on her as seeping with relevance to Pearl's perceived gender.

In all three of the previous sections, the running theme is that Scott is 1. kinder and more patient with women, regardless of their competency and 2. someone who likes to be in a supporting role to women, occasionally aiding them more than he aids himself and his closer male allies (e.g. Jimmy and Martyn). As shown with Cleo, he assumes that girls have it together, but even if they don't it's not a big deal. When a girl's actions are truly disastrous, such as with Lizzie's, he goes into a state of shock and doesn't really react, preferring to swallow it down and not acknowledge it.

With the amount of times he sacrifices himself, I don't think it's a reach to say that Scott values his own life less than he values the lives of his (female) allies. This specific point actually does extend to his male allies too, shown when he's happy when Martyn literally backstabs him in LimL, but just as with the Martyn post where I point out his victim status-ing doesn't end at only women but includes all the women, Scott has pedastal-ed all the women he's teamed with.

Lizzie is, once again, the exception here due to his limited interactions with her. However that's actually somewhat patched over if you look at adjacent series (such as x-life) where he definitely shows her a level of admiration and respect.

Back to Scott and Pearl.

Their relationship during LL is very standard of how Scott treats women. While the power dynamic between them is obviously more caused by the initial life trade agreement, I don't think it's a far reach to say that Scott is somewhat comfortable in the arrangement.

However, this is also the first thing that sets their relationship apart from Scott with Cleo or Gem -- Pearl is the one making sacrifices, not Scott. She is the one "sacrificing" her lives to him, just in a more non-violent way as allowed by the season's mechanics.

When viewed through this lens, Scott trying to make it up to her and wanting his effort acknowledged makes even more sense. This is suddenly uncharted waters for him. His assuming that Pearl doesn't value him as a person goes hand in hand with him valuing himself less than her.

What Scott has with Cleo or Gem, situations where the other party is clearly uncomfortable with how he treats himself (Gem) or actively aware they are taking advantage of him (Cleo), is equalized to him because he is inherently worth less. What he has with Pearl, on the other hand, looks more equal to most people (lives vs labour) but is wildly imbalanced to him.

It's one of the many factors I see going into Scott's weird decision to abandon her in DL.

An Interlude, Before We Get to DL

La Pieta, Michelangelo

So this has been a lot of words so far and some of you might be wondering at this point: why say Scott is "weird" about women when so far this has been describing how he values women more, is kinder to them, is more patient with them, etc.? How is any of this behaviour remotely misogynistic?

And I would feel horrible if I forced you to read through all of my DL thoughts before I clarified this -- Scott is not your classic wifebeater "women are lesser" misogynist, Scott is someone who subscribes to misogynistic schools of thought and probably considers himself an ally to women, when in reality his beliefs are still rooted in dehumanizing them and these beliefs end up harming the women around him as well as himself.

After all, seeing women are your superiors is still not seeing them as your equals.

I know it's a bit of a meme on this blog at this point. But. Sigmund Freud identified what we know refer to as the "madonna/whore complex", which he described as a pattern of behaviour in men who separated women into being madonnas (pure, holy and admirable) and whores (debased, sexual, deviant). We'll be focusing on the former, the madonna, as it is more relevant to Scott's character.

Freud proposed that the madonna figure was something men projected onto women as a replacement for maternal love. These women are sacred and untouchable, literally as the projection of the maternal role onto them also makes it so that the sufferer cannot feel any sexual attraction towards her (keep this in mind for later).

Scott projects the madonna figure onto his female compatriots -- they are to be protected, served and supported. They are goddesses, queens, but they are never human. The madonna role in of itself is not inherently harmful to the woman, as seen with Cleo who takes control and advantage of it. However, it is enforced, as seen with Gem who at first revels in the superiority but almost breaks down when Scott offers him up as her sacrificial lamb one last time.

I linked this Utena AMV awhile back when vaguely talking about Scott and women, and this was the point I was alluding to.

Girls are beautiful and pure. They don't spit on the street, they don't piss on the street, they don't build hierarchies -- they subvert all the expectations of masculinity that I hate having to deal with. They are my escape.

But what about the girls who do spit on the street? The girls who piss on seats? Who build social hierarchies, who size up their competition?

The girls Scott interacts with are all painfully human. Cleo weaponizes his beliefs and take advantage of him. Scott is smart enough to know and accept this. Gem's playing into a role she has been assigned into by not only Scott but everyone around her. Scott supports the character she plays. Lizzie reflects traits he hates in Joel and Jimmy, but for her, he looks the other way.

Are they "demons", as the song says, or are they no longer girls at all?

(demons, gods, but never humans)

Weaponized Femininity and Women In Total Control of Themselves ;)

Hylas and the Nymphs, John William Waterhouse

Historically, weaponized femininity I'd argue is one of the oldest tropes in storytelling. Whether it's nymphs or sirens or witches or succubi or even more roundabout cases like Helen of Troy, there's countless stories of men's sexual attraction to women leading them to disaster.

One way to view these stories is to see them as warnings, don't let womens allure be the end of you.

There's a lot of good writing done on the femme fatale trope both in the context of weaponizing femininity and as a sexist way to argue against victims of sexual assault, as these stories often say that men who experience attraction to these "evil" women no longer have agency over their own actions.

Look at the painting above, for example - is it the nymphs who are responsible for drowning Hylas, or is Hylas climbing into the lake of his own accord?

Despite the fact we all know sirens, nymphs and succubi aren't real, the belief that men will simply lose control of themselves when encountering a particularly alluring woman persists to the modern consciousness. That there's something inherently dangerous about women and attraction to them.

(this is not 100% applicable to Ninja saying he won't stream with women, but it's the real life example I felt most comfortable putting in here)

Now, let's combine this with what's been said so far -- let's say you don't hate women. You love women, in fact, and you hate the way men treat women. You hate men, in fact.

Yet, you still believe in this inherent power women hold by being female and the loss of agency that men experience when attracted to them -- how disgusting.

It quickly becomes easily to not only demonize men for sullying the holiness of women, but also men, masculinity and attraction to women as a whole.

(apologies for using twt discourse in the meta post but this flew by my TL and i had to grab the irl example of mens non-violent attraction to women being used to frame them as misogynistic before the stupid app refreshed and i lose everything forever)

"To Venner" is a student film exploring a world set within this belief, where all the women have vanished and the men have become monstrous figures as a result of their pent up sexual frustration. fyi this is one of my favourite student films (and ive watched a bunch), but I do think its messaging is worth breaking down (especially its juxtaposition of dirty horrible monstrous sexuality vs pure and beautiful romantic love)

NOTE: this film is super graphic, lots of violence and nudity. have fun. or not

I admit this section is a bit hard to gauge as everyone in the series is gay as fuck. The closest in-series example I can think of is Scott reacting to Martyn's antics in DL with a sort of indigence but otherwise I can't really think of an example of a man expressing attraction to a woman at all, let alone one Scott reacted to. However, I do think it's still worth talking about because it opens up some interesting trains of thought in regard to Scott and Pearl.

For Scott, he himself has never been part of the picture. He's gay, after all, which gives him an edge over the bad straight men who objectify and assault women. Likewise, there's little evidence to suggest he finds the expectations of masculinity frustrating, but I don't think it's too far a reach considering how common of an experience that is for gay men and his adapting of more feminine mannerisms.

Double Life and Corruption

As mentioned in my previously linked post about Scott and Pearl's relationship, I do think Scott experiences what he would name as attraction towards Pearl, so my writing will reflect that.

Pearl is. ahem. not like other girls.

Not actually. But to Scott, she probably isn't like other girls.

She remains unaware of his different standards for her (how could she when she had nothing to compare them to), she acts out, sometimes violently, against Scott's urging (such as when she stole from Scar's wagon). She maintains their already irregular dynamic, and while she appreciates his care for her, she never quite falls into seeing him as a source of subservience the way Cleo or Gem do.

At the end of LL, right before the 1v1v1v1, she monologues to herself that she no longer has to feel bad for killing Scott. Which, in turn, implies she expected Scott to give it his all against her as well.

She entirely fails to embody the madonna with her immature naivete and her questionable morals. She is unpredictable, she doesn't take what she is owed, she is a monster in a lot of ways.

Scott, too, is a monster, to himself, for how he feels about her.

The very foundations of your understanding of yourself being ripped apart aside, let's rewind to the madonna/whore complex. To sexualise the madonna is to corrupt her and make a monster of yourself. Suddenly, you are no better than the men around you, the ones you've grown to hate. Suddenly, you are the grotesque figures in films like To Venner. You are Hylas and she is the nymph. And you are so stupid. Your worldview crumbles around its flawed foundations.

Scott is, however, immune to this corruption. This is a theme that appears in Empires as well, but throughout the traffic series he's prided himself on being loyal and kind and good. His monologue leading up to LL's 1v1v1v1 summarizes it quite well.

He can't let himself or anyone else see this side of him, but the energy needs to go somewhere. To defy fate, abandon your soulmate, is to admit you had a fate in the first place, is to acknowledge that she was your soulmate in the first place.

I've previously talked about how fate and romance are very ingrained in Scott's belief system, if it was anyone else it would've been amazing. He could've been like Bdubs and Impulse or Ren and Bigb, diving into domestic life and performative romance with a stranger. Or the world could've made his happy ending from 3L real, as he got to be Jimmy's husband all over again. I think it says something that he accepts Cleo as a "soulmate" before Pearl.

So what do you do with all that energy and tension, clearly apparent to yourself and everyone else, when you can't let them observe your feelings?

You project them.

Shout-outs to @/legally-allowed-to-slime for pointing out Pearl's comment early on in DL that she "feels like (she's) been broken up with" confirms she never saw Scott in a romantic sense. The "crazy ex-girlfriend" and "this is why I'm gay" comments really did come out of thin air, or perhaps insecurity.

Pearl is the crazy one. She's insane, because she wants me. She wants to be with me, so she does all this crazy stuff. She's lost control of herself because she wants me. She's disgusting.

I mentioned before that Scott is not your classic misogynist, but this is where the gears start turning. Scott's views of Pearl echo that of other players, most prominently Ren and Martyn, that Pearl has been overcome with some sort of corruption. She has become the witch, the demoness, the whore, in their eyes. Scott does not want to be the same as these men and I think his overcorrecting his behaviour in SL makes sense when you view it from this angle, but for now he has to rely on more traditional misogyny in order to navigate this new obstacle.

"Corruption" also implies that she had to have been pure (or at least pure-er) beforehand, something Scott personally knows is not true, but it falls in line with defaulting women to being "madonnas".

This is a Scott post but. shout outs to Ren for being all of this about Pearl but without the complexity of Scott like he literally accuses Pearl of seducing Bigb what the fuck man.

Pearl is, of course, none of that. But she plays into the role of being the witch much better than she fared playing into the role of the madonna.

Sidenote: I know I'm looking at this from a Scott/Pearl POV but I do feel like you can omit Scott's attraction if you look at it from a purely "pearl not performing to standards of femininity I expect and she makes me realise I don't view women as a whole as human which makes me feel weird so now we have to do this" POV. Like idk I think the exact reason he abandoned Pearl is going to be lost on everyone forever so any analysis I could perform is going to suffer at least a little bit of making-shit-up-itis.

I do also think there's something to be said about Pearl being pushed until she performed a role, any role and generally failing at Being A Girl tm but that's another post i think. yknow shes um. a bit. 🏳️‍⚧️ (but also very much not at the same time idk that's gonna need its own post)

anyway yeah uh the minecraft movie looks crazy huh

[toiletclown]

breathless. (part three.)

spencer agnew x gn!reader

there is angst in this part !!!

summary: you and spencer have an absolute blast doing the livestream, but then you open your mouth. oh no.

word count: 3286

✧˖°.⁺‧˚ ♡ ˚‧⁺ ✧˖°.

You had two days until the livestream, which means you and Ang would be conspiring nonstop for the next 48-or-so hours. That FaceTime call lasted much longer than necessary, and when you both came into the office today you were both clearly exhausted. But that’s okay, because you were not only going to get your friend back, but hopefully gain a partner in the process.

“Jeez, Peach, you’re looking rough today.” Spencer greeted you in the kitchen, and you immediately glanced up and around to make sure no one else was in the kitchen to hear that. Just last night you were wishing he would call you Peach at work, but now it felt… strange. To actually have it happen. That must have been Angela’s doing.

“Yeah, I was up pretty late. I think I finally went to sleep around four just to turn around and wake up at eight. Plus, I was tossing and turning all night, so the sleep I did get wasn’t even restful.” You put a small amount of concealer on because your eyebags were so dark today, and it was still shoot week. Next week it wouldn’t matter all that much because you’d be in your pod locking in on other things, but since you still have three days of shooting to be done, you had to at least try and cover it up. You usually didn’t venture into the comments for your own mental, but you knew if you didn’t put something over them, someone would inevitably comment ‘wow y/n looks like shit today’. And of course, that would be the one comment out of all of them that you would end up seeing.

Spencer rubbed your upper arm lightly, offering more comfort than you expected from him as of late. It was nice. You let a smile spill across your face, but broke eye contact to stare at your shoes. 

“You want one of my Kickstarts? I know they make your stomach upset but maybe the energy might help?” He held an unopened can out to you, and you took it. He was right, you usually had a stomach ache after drinking a Kickstart, but you felt so dead it just might be worth it.

You popped the tab and took a sip, thanking him for his generosity. Angela had definitely talked to him more in depth than she let on, meaning she definitely knew more than she let on. So now you had to worry if she was conspiring with him as well. Not that she would do anything to sabotage you behind your back, but what if she coaxed both of you into a silly plan that will end up falling through?

//

The two shoot days before the livestream were both pretty much the same as always. You and Angela stayed up well into the night hatching a plan, Spencer let you drink his Kickstart and brought you coffee and Red Bull Thursday morning, the day of the stream. You picked up your energy for the shoots, and did your best to keep up with conversations and plans off-camera as well. Spencer was back to his usual physically affectionate self, and he had no trouble saying ‘I love you’ back when you said it first, if you said it first. Whatever Angela was doing behind the scenes on his side was working, because it almost felt like you didn’t need to do some big thing on the stream now. You had what you wanted: your best friend back. Sure, you want more than that, and as far as you knew, so did Spencer. But why introduce the potential of a severe falling out when this was working just fine? You’d been best friends with Spencer for nearly eight years now, that was all you had ever known. Friendship. Was it worth the possibility of losing all of this? Just to—what, gain a different label?

You said as much to Angela while you two were eating. The kitchen and eating area were fairly empty while everyone was setting up for the stream. Spencer, luckily, was needed on set so you knew he wasn’t around to hear you wax poetic about him. Again. As you seemed entirely incapable of doing anything else, lately.

“I don’t know, I’m just starting to wonder if it’s all worth it. Like, sure, I gain the new label of ‘partner,’ but what else is going to change? We already act like a couple anyway, according to you and Erin.”

Angela put her hand on your shoulder and looked into your eyes, piercing through to your very soul. “Y/N, I’m going to hold your hand when I say this, but you don’t just gain the label. You gain all the benefits and happiness of a relationship and you also don’t have to keep hurting yourself. You want to be with Spencer, and he wants to be with you. Instead of not allowing yourself that happiness, and pushing it down constantly to try and come off as ‘normal’, you can just be normal. Also, as far as I know, you and Spence haven’t kissed or gone on any dates and I do believe that’s a perk that comes with dating someone. Especially someone who already knows everything about you. Instead of you two having to tread the murky beginnings of a relationship, you can hop right into it because you both already know so much about each other. Sure it might not feel entirely different at first, but imagine how relieved you’ll be when you don’t have to stop yourself from complimenting him, or staring at him, or blushing whenever he so much as breathes in your direction.” Angela pushed her food around on her plate, pondering if she should keep talking. She was working hard to make this happen, because she loved you both and knew you both deserved to be happy with each other. But Y/N was stubborn, and Spencer was just… hard-headed sometimes.

You held your breath for a moment, letting her words sink in again. Angela wasn’t always so verbose but when she was, it was serious, and you had to really listen. And, of course, she was right. You keep hurting yourself by pushing these feelings away, and you know that they’re reciprocated, so why keep pushing? “You’re right, as always.” You beamed at your best friend, feeling hopeful that this would work.

You knew the stream was set to be starting in about thirty minutes, so you stood up to throw your trash away and get ready. But before you could walk away, Angela grabbed your wrist. “Just so you know, and you didn’t hear this from me, but everyone here wants you two to start dating. Erin sent those memes in thinking it would kick your asses into gear but it didn’t work as well as she thought it would, I guess. Also, a lot of Smosh fans ship you. There’s a few compilations on YouTube if you’re curious. Just some food for thought.” She smiled brightly before leaving you to ponder on that.

You decided to pop your headphones in and do a quick check on that “compilation” comment. You weren’t due to set for twenty more minutes, so you clicked on a five minute compilation titled “Y/N and Spencer being soulmates for 5 minutes and 28 seconds”. Soulmates. It was accurate, to you, but that didn't make it any easier to stomach. You only got a few clips into the compilation before you started to get a little too warm. You freshened up your face and deodorant in the bathroom, and set off for the stream.

//

Everything was off to a good start. You fiddled around with a few songs, and Spencer, of course, was holding perfect conversation with you while also getting a 96% on Expert mode. It was time to start executing your plan, and you knew Angela was right off to the side watching.

“Okay, so, I didn’t tell you this,” you started, glancing at Spencer, “but I did some extra training without you.” You smiled nervously, hoping he wouldn’t be mad at you.

“No way! Cheater.” Your best friend was gleaming at you, and despite his words, he seemed a bit proud. “You just wanted to impress me, didn’t you, Peach?” 

He definitely expected you to falter at the mention of your nickname while on stream, but you held strong. If you blushed, then you blushed. You didn't really have a say in that.

“Well, of course I did. Anyway, I made sure we added one of my favorite songs to the game while you were busy running around setting up, but it’s only mapped on Expert mode. You think I can do it?”

“I believe in you wholeheartedly.” You could tell from the smile on his face that he wasn’t joking. Well, here goes nothing.

“Okay, close your eyes because I have to scroll and find it and I don’t want you to see which song it is.”

“You said it was one of your favorites, right? Can I guess?” Spencer had both hands over his eyes, under his glasses, which made him look quite silly. And while he did know a lot of your favorite songs, you were pretty sure you hadn’t mentioned this one to him.

“Go ahead,” you urged, scrolling through the menus for a few seconds before asking Alex the best way to get to the song.

“Okay, let’s see here. Is it Andria by La Dispute?”

“Nope.”

“Avocado, Baby by Los Campesinos!?”

“Nope.” You popped the ‘p’ this time.

“Change by Djo?”

“Ah, there it is!” You had finally found the song, after a few too many minutes of scrolling around. The chat didn’t seem to be bothered by the current lack of commentary because they all still seemed to be reeling about Spencer calling you Peach. Which was fair, because mentally you were also freaking out a little bit. But you had more important things to worry about than the blush that was definitely painting your neck and face.

“I was right?” Spencer moved his hands, “Oh, no I wasn’t. I didn’t know you liked The Corrs?” He looked back at you now, and you thought you heard him comment on your blush. But you could rewatch later. For now, you needed to slay this song.

“Spencer, of course I like The Corrs.” You locked in on the song, hitting every single note with ease. You found yourself singing the song too, and Spencer joined in not long after you started.

“Can’t hide it! Can’t fight it! So, go on, go on! Come on, leave me breathless. Tempt me, tease me! Till I can’t deny this loving feelin’! Make me long for your kiss!” You were both singing your hearts out, and you were simultaneously shredding on the fancy guitar controller Spence had secured for Smosh. The chat was going wild, but neither of you thought to even ask about it. The song ended and you managed to get a 92% on Expert mode, while singing and conversing. That was the best you’d ever done on a song, and you had no doubt it was because your best friend was next to you singing with you. 

//

The stream ended after about an hour and a half, your voice hoarse from singing and cheering and yelling. You had picked Breathless by The Corrs because you knew you had never mentioned liking them to Spencer, but the lyrics of the song were just too accurate for how you felt. And you and Angela both knew you wouldn’t be able to actually get a confession out, so you were hoping the song was enough to give Spencer the push to say something himself. And him singing the song with you certainly did something to your insides, but these days everything that man did made your stomach flip. And you were okay with that. You could get used to that. Maybe you even wanted that. You wanted Spencer, unabashedly.

Angela pulled you down the hall away from your other coworkers to ask how you felt. “I don’t know how I feel, to be honest. It was nerve-wracking and stressful at some points, but I don’t know, singing one of my favorite love songs with the man I’m currently in love with was an incredible feeling.” You were so happy and so bubbly you didn’t even realize your wording.

Until you noticed Angela was staring at you.

“What? Oh, fuck. Okay, yeah, I didn’t mean to say that. Um, Just... I’m really high on energy right now, is all.” You let out a soft chuckle, trying to walk back your statement. But she had heard it, and Angela wasn’t exactly one to let things go. “Angela, please do not mention this until we have both clocked out and left the building. Then you can go crazy, but just wait until then. Please,” you quietly begged. It was going to come up again �� no doubt about that. But you couldn’t do it while you were still here. You didn’t have anything left to shoot today but you did have some paperwork to do and some marketing stuff to work on, and Tommy asked you to be in a TikTok earlier in the week so that still needed to be done too.

“Okay, okay. I’ll wait. But you will be hearing from me as soon as I park my ass on my couch at home,” Angela whispered back, attempting to meet your volume level but mostly failing.

“What’re y’all whispering about over here?” Spencer had come down the hallway, a Kickstart in one hand and your favorite flavor of Red Bull in the other.

“We’re conspiring on how to break YouTube's streaming rules on a livestream and get away with it, why?” You supplied, knowing he would appreciate a little joke after a somewhat-tense livestream. Maybe the livestream was only tense for you, though. You graciously accepted the Red Bull as he handed it to you.

He did laugh, luckily, and turned towards Angela, “I think Arasha would be a better co-conspirator for that. Y/N is too nice to break internet law.” He smiled at you now, and put his hand on your shoulder, his warmth spreading through your body.

He was always so warm, and you religiously ran cold. It was one of many ways you two fit together so well. You both balanced each other out in all the best ways, Spencer giving more where you had to give less, and vice versa. He always knew just what you needed, and just when you needed it. In so many ways, your friends were right. You were already a couple, basically, without the main perks of being together. You weren’t able to cash in on the parts of the relationship that you really craved – you wanted to kiss him, you wanted to fall asleep in his arms, you wanted to spend lazy Sunday mornings in bed with him and let him teach you all the video games you didn’t understand. You wanted Spencer in a way you couldn’t put into words. It was a visceral need deep inside your bones; an almost bothersome, unending ache. Your want for him outweighed any other emotion you could possibly feel.

You weren’t sure how much longer you could take it.

“Hey, Ang, can I talk to Spence alone for a second?” You smiled innocently, knowing she’d see through it.

“Oh, of course. I’ll talk to you later! Love you both!” She yelled, speed-walking away like her life depended on it. She was halfway down the hallway before she even finished her sentence.

Spencer and you turned to face each other, and suddenly your throat was quite dry. You remembered, gratefully, that he had brought you a Red Bull. You held a finger up to communicate that you needed a second, and then downed half the can in one go. You burped quite loudly afterwards, apologizing for the loud noise.

“You good, brother?” Your best friend inquired, his hand finding his favorite place on your wrist. He always touched your wrist when he was worried about you, a small gesture that always made you light up inside. Despite his overall relaxed demeanor, you could tell he was a bit anxious. His other hand started fidgeting not long after you asked Angela to leave.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. “Okay, so I’m going to word vomit right now. I know you’re going to want to tell me to shut the fuck up, but please let me just puke it out and then I promise you can have the floor afterwards. Okay?” He nodded, and you started again. “I love you, Spence. You know that, right?” 

Spencer’s fidgeting picked up speed and you grabbed both of his hands in yours, hoping to quell any anxious thoughts forming. You rubbed your thumbs on the back of his hands, realizing once again how warm he was. “You know that, right?” You reiterated, needing the confirmation before you moved forward.

“Yes, Y/N. I love you, too. You also know that, right?” You could hear his voice shake a little, tempting you to try and hurry this up so as not to stress him out. You still wanted it to come out coherent and somewhat romantic, but you weren’t sure if you could handle him being so anxious. 

You smiled, intertwining your fingers with his before continuing on. “Yes, I do. But I’m also lying to you every time I tell you that.” Spencer’s face very quickly dropped at this, prompting you to remind him to let you word vomit and that everything was okay. After you two shared some deep breaths, you continued on.  “I say I love you, and I mean it, because I do, but… honestly for years and years now, I’ve meant it differently than you might mean it. I do love you, but not as a friend. Spencer, I’m so head over ass in love with you. I’m tired of fighting it, I’m tired of hiding it, I’m tired of everyone making jokes at our expense. If you don’t reciprocate, trust me, I understand. I won’t be upset. I just hope you can forgive me for potentially ruining this friendship. But, I need to be honest with myself and most of all, with you. I love you, Spence, and not as a friend. And I’m hoping you can be okay with that.”

You took a deep breath, letting your words wash over him while you tried to quickly recuperate from the intense reeling in your brain. If everyone else at the Smoffice was right, he did reciprocate. But now you weren’t so sure. He had been silent far longer than you expected. You pulled yourself out of your head to look at Spencer, finally, having been looking at his hands in yours to try and center yourself.

But, he was crying. “Oh, god, Spencer. I’m sorry, that was not cool of me, we’re at work. I’m sorry, I’m... I’ll go.” You disconnected your hands and ran for the office doors, not bothering to grab your bag or keys or phone. You just really needed to be away from everything right now. If he called after you, or if anyone did for that matter, you didn’t hear it. You needed to get out. And you needed to get out now.

You made your best friend cry.

After telling him you loved him and wanted him in a way he couldn’t give to you.

How badly did you just fuck everything up?

✧˖°.⁺‧˚ ♡ ˚‧⁺ ✧˖°.

I'M SORRY aaaaaaaa

taglist: @lokidokieokie <3

[yuuuhiii]

yandere themes, knife usage, mdni

a/n: I need to stop watching Dexter (*´ー｀*)

He loved you so so much. His beautiful bestfriend. You were to good for people, definitely to good for this world. In his eyes, no one was ever perfect for your time.

Nobody deserved it.

Not even him.

But he’d tell himself he was an exception since he was your bestfriend.

You were always nice and gentle to everyone that had the luck of talking to you.

But he hated.

Really hated.

When some morons could think they could have even a chance to be with you. Couldn’t they see that was his spot?

He adored the way you’d reject them, he’d like for you to be more mean but you could never do no wrong. And for the people that could ever mistreat you.

He dealt with them himself.

In the dark of the night, letting you know he’d go get you both snacks and you nodded, a kiss to his warming cheek. He feels the remnants of your lips still on his skin, even when he’s on his way to someone’s house.

It was a guy, someone who thought he could touch what was his. He stops at the end of the street, the guy walking into view.

He knows his routine, where he lives, his name and the best part, how to get in. So before the guy can even make it to his house. He’s settling in, the lights are off and a shot of adrenaline shoots through him when he hears the door unlock.

The guy walks in, unbeknownst of his presence on the couch until he turns the light on. He gasps loudly, almost tripping over his kitchen chair. He turns around from his place on the couch.

“Remember me?” He grins, standing up.

“W-What—Get the fuck out of my house!” The guy yells.

He snickers. “I asked if you remembered me.” He walks over to him. He towers over the guy, a psychotic glint in his eyes it has the guy gulping.

“N-No.” He pouts, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Let’s try to remember okay? You saw the most beautiful girl today? You had your hands all over her, making her uncomfortable right?”

The guy nods his head. “I-I didn’t know she had a boyfriend.” He laughs, squeezing the guys shoulder.

“It’s nothing like that. I’m just her bestfriend, I gotta protect her from guys like you.”

He forces the guy to sit down on his own chair. He walks over to the kitchen counter, grabbing a knife. The guy squeaks, shivering in his chair.

“She was really scared you know? It hurt me to see her like that. I never wanna see her scared. It also makes me upset because I feel like I’m not doing my job correctly. So that’s why I’m here. To finish it.” He pokes at the end of the knife.

“Y-You’re fucking crazy!”

The guy takes off in a sprint for the front door. Making your bestfriend sigh. He goes after him and the poor guy isn’t even able to open the door before he’s dragging him back from the collar of his shirt.

“Gosh you don’t have to make this hard you know.” He rubs at his forehead.

“I swear! I didn’t mean to make her uncomfortable! She’s just really pretty—” He nodded along as the guy rambled on, dragging the knife along the guys chest.

“I’ve heard this so many times. Why do you guys always try to justify your actions in the end.” He sucks at his teeth.

“You guys always end up the same either ways. Dead.”

The guys plea’s are white noise in his mind as he plunges the knife in him. It’s always in these moments he feels like something takes over and when he snaps out of it, the work is already done.

He spends some time cleaning up the body. His hands his clothes. Making it look like a murder scene. He curses at himself when he sees the missed calls from you. He dials your number and your pretty voice engulfs his ears.

“Hey, where’ve you been.” He could hear your pout across the line making him smile as he makes his way to his car.

“A lot of the convenience stores are closed so I had to go to one far from your house.” He lies through his teeth.

“Oh ok then.” You murmur and he smiles.

“I’ll be right there ok pretty?” You hum and he hangs up.

When he’s finally back with bags of snacks, you cheer.

“Finally! I missed you.” You say as you throw your arms around his neck. You go to kiss his cheek but spot something.

“Hey what is this?” You swipe your thumb over his cheek, it’s a red stain.

“Huh?” He peers down at your thumb and places the bags on the floor. He laughs and you glance at him confused.

“I might’ve had a little snack without you, it’s ketchup.” You whine and push at his chest but he picks you up, letting you squeal as he places you on your bed.

“It’s fine, I got you all your favorites ok.” He leans in, his breath fanning your lips. It makes you gasp and your eyes lid. He pecks the corner of your mouth, getting off of you and grabbing the bags.

You’re left there on your bed a flushing mess as he hums, sorting out the snacks. You chew at your lip and sit next to him.

“Hey I have a question.” He hums, still taking things out.

“H—How come you don’t kiss me?” He faces you but you’re messing with your hands.

“You’re always calling me names and treating me like your girlfriend. You even scare away guys when they come up to me. But we’re still best friends?” He hates how confused you look.

“C’mere.” He pats his lap and you move to straddle him.

“You want me to kiss you?” He tilts his head and you nod.

His lips are on yours and they’re wasting no time. They’re feverish around yours and if the tv wasn’t on you would’ve payed attention to how loud your guys lips smacked against each others. When he inserts his tongue into your mouth you let out a moan, tugging at his hair. He smiles and pulls away.

“You’ve been waiting for this huh?” You nod quickly.

“I was beginning to think you didn’t feel the same way.” You rest your face on his shoulder. He places kisses on your cheek and down to your neck.

“Oh baby, if only you knew how far I’d go for you.”

YUTA OKKOTSU, KAZUTORA HANEMIYA, HARUCHIYO SANZU, Armin Arlert, Vigilante Deku, Hirofumi Yoshida,

© yuuuhiii 24 : don’t plagiarize, translate, or post my work on other platforms

[empressburbey]

Throughout the books, airplane bro or as I would like to call him Airplane-nim reminds me of that one scene from Doom at you Service. Where basically the fl Tak Dongkyun (an editor or like a manager for a web novel company) attends the funeral of one of the authors grandfather's. His name is Siberia btw.

And Siberia tells how bad he feels that he never really told his grandfather what he writes, because he felt shy of his work. Eventhough his grandpa was proud that his grandson is an author. And the Dongkyung just tells the author that he would have been proud of his works. And the author gets excited and just goes, "Like 'You were never just a friend to me'?" and the editor shakes her head. Because no, this three star bl novel is not his best work. Not even close. And she names the novel she likes. But the author again mentions another whacky 1 star rated novel. And she gets frustrated, "See, this is why you can't rank high because the stories you like, nobody else likes"

That's so cucumber and airplane coded.

Because imagine a world where Cucumber turns from hater to manager/editor of Airplane. And he just has to constantly tell his ideas off. "No this will make a plot hole, no it will only confuse the reader, for fucks sake how many chapters long does this porn scene have to last?"

And they have a similar conversation at Airplanes relative's funeral.

Then Shen Yuan dies out of frustration of too much work load. Since he has to constantly edit the plot holes and what not. But Airplane writes like Turbo the snail crawls. Too many chapters in one day.

And then the conversation happens again.

Imagine Shen Yuan dies because of work. Whatever, he goes back to Luo Binghe, chokes on anger, whatever the reason. He dies. And a

Airplane goes to his funeral with his friend or something. Airplane goes there for friend reasons? Hometown reason? They've been through thick and thin? Idk, he goes there. He looks at Shen Yuans photo and just tells his friend, "Man. Maybe I should quit writing. It's so terrible that Cucumber-bro left so many hate comments in my drafts. And then he even died of out of sheer anger".

And the friend goes, "Noo. Shen Yuan was probably very proud of your works". And Qinghua just looks into the distance for a moment and thinks, "Like Proud Immortal Demon Way?"

"No, more like your previous works", the friend shakes their head.

This is so random and such a raw idea. I'm not sure how it would actually look like.

[iknwreid]

sweet nothing – spencelle.

“industry disruptors and soul deconstructors and smooth-talkin' hucksters out glad-handin' each other and the voices that implore, “you should be doin' more" to you, i can admit that i'm just too soft for all of it"

wc: 1.1k | disclamers: comfort. im thinking second season spencelle. | a/n: english is not my first language, i just really love spencelle and taylor swift. this song is literally them. text divider by cafekitsune.

It was too much for her. This job was all Elle ever wanted: make her father proud, to do good, to arrest some crazy sons of bitches. But sometimes, just sometimes… It was too much. When she got home, she'd sit on her couch and stare off into the distance, her gaze lost, only her mind working, wondering if it was really worth it. It was hard to give up and it was not like her. She would never do that. Being the first female profiler in the BAU was not something to give up. And that's why she couldn’t afford to show her weakness to anyone. They would certainly misjudge her, she wouldn’t be good enough. Too soft.

Elle was soft. Tender, friendly, sweet. Sometimes a little awkward. Spencer could see that through the mask she wore. He could notice all her little details. She was too important to him, of course he would know her. Elle made Spencer feel like a whole person and not a crazy nerd with only that to show. She listened to him when he talked about anything, – “What a mind, Reid.” – even if she did not really understand, and he sat by her side when she wanted company but was not brave enough to say so. They were good for each other like no other. There were only a few words in the air, but it was just perfect for their connected minds.

Every now and then, one case would get rougher than the other, and it was inevitable not to let it affect her. Perhaps even impossible. Elle sat at her desk, Spencer in a chair beside her. They were silent for a moment, looking at the case file and writing all the horrors back into their memories. Spencer looked at her, tracing all her features and looking at her mysterious face that was glancing at what seemed to be nothing. She had recently cut her bangs. Reid found that lovely, it really suits her, he thinks. 

“Elle.” A voice they recognize echoes through the bullpen. Hotchner stands on the steps of the staircase with a serious look on his face. She stands up before answering. “Yes, Hotch?” she swivels her hips and walks towards him. Spencer watched the scene not quite so discreetly, his eyes fixed on the two familiar faces. He could see Hotchner opening his lips to say something, but he couldn’t hear what he was actually saying. He knew, however, that these words absolutely crashed Elle’s mind. She was an expressive person, and he definitely inferred the topic of conversation when her face turned into a miserable expression as her hands grabbed at her arms to hold onto something to keep herself from falling. Reid stood up without moving, but he was ready to if he had to. Not even a second later, all he saw was Elle leaving the bullpen, faster than ever before. Even faster than when they had vacations. His eyes searched for her, not wanting her to leave.

Spencer walked up to her and touched her on the shoulders as she stood in the hallway. “Hey, Elle?” His voice was soft and low, he did his best not to startle her. She turned to him, her eyes moist and an astonished expression on her face. “What happened there?” he dared to ask. She was silent, open-mouthed, as if searching for the right words.“He said I should have done more.” Greenaway said at the moment a tear welled up on her face. Spencer stared into her eyes, not knowing exactly what to say, in fact, not even knowing what he wanted to hear. “You've done more than enough, Elle.” His hands softened the touch in her shoulders, sliding down her arms and then over her hands, touching them lightly before crossing his arms. She looked down at the floor and nodded her head slightly. She was disappointed with herself. And she knew she should be doing more, but hearing that from another person was soul wrecking. Hotchner's words were like waves crashing on the shore. “No, he's right, Spencer.” 

It was natural for him to embrace her. He didn't even think about it, he just hugged her and tried to comfort her in a better way than with words. Spencer felt that words were a good way to comfort, but right now he needed the feeling that Elle was safe in his arms. The feeling that she wasn't going to leave and stay alone in her house thinking about leaving for the best of it. She didn't say in words that she had done this before, but he knew it was true. He had done it before, too. And they were so much alike that he could sense that his hunch was right. Elle didn't immediately respond to the hug, but just seconds after she felt him hugging her, she couldn’t resist the urge to feel him too. Her hands ran carefully over his upper back as she breathed in his scent, a mixture of black coffee and wood. It was so comforting, it felt like home. Not her house, but home, like going back to New York City after so many years. 

Spencer ran his hands briefly through her short hair after she released the hug; he wanted more, he felt so comfortable with her touch that he craved more. Every time he felt her close to him, he didn't care about the rest of the world, he didn't care if the end was coming or if everyone was up to something, he only cared about Elle. More than anything, he wanted her to be well. In fact, he needed her to be well. Despite that, Spencer didn't expect her to be fine. How could she? How could Elle be fine after everything that had happened?

“You're incredible, Elle. Don't let anything convince you otherwise.” He said, looking into her eyes again. It was a mesmerizing sight, Elle’s eyes. “Please.” Reid added with an almost stupid face, he liked her so much it was painful.

Elle didn't say anything, she just hugged him again because she wanted that feeling once more. Spencer never wanted nothing from her. It was a strange feeling when someone didn't always want 100% from you. All those things he said, not only today, but everytime she needed, – sometimes even when she didn't need it – Elle had never felt so loved. She trusted him so much. Every time she felt insane, Reid’s voice was in her head, whispering sweet nothings to her.

“I think I'm just too soft for all of this.” She said, nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck. He could feel her warm breath on his skin. Spencer pressed her against his body and sighed as he lightly stroked her back.

Spencer wanted to tell her how much he liked her, how much he loved her, despite what anyone said to her, being soft in this job wasn’t a flaw, it was actually a virtue. He didn't say anything, he didn't need to. She knew it, Elle knew it. It was their sweet nothings.

[hwnglx]

that shuffled song is cute, what a plot twist. the lyrics do fit. this reading was quite extensive though, he has so much depth to his personality.

lee know's real personality behind the scenes

based on tarot. i do not know these idols personally. energies are always changing. what i say is NOT straight fact. pls take it with a grain of salt!

shuffled song: sunshine by stray kids

+ lee know is an incredibly independent guy. he seems to have overcome a good amount of hardship in the past, which has equipped him with this profound ability to heal himself, and led to him being pretty self-reliant. he's always been sensitive, still is sensitive; but good at handling it now. he's an example of someone who took the pain in his life, and has been able to turn it into a valuable lesson for himself. not only that, the things he went through shaped him into a person full of wisdom and depth, who has a good understanding of life. i can see him giving valuable advice to people, and being this person you can comfortably seek in times of tribulation.

he is an amazing listener as well. people feel comfortable talking to him about anything, really. he's someone who's good at attuning himself and his energy to people's specific needs, which can make him very pleasant to be around.

hugely perfectionistic. lee know is the type of person who works quietly but puts in consistent effort. i got reminded of when skz filmed their survival show back in the day, and lee know got eliminated. even after dropping out, he continued to practice tirelessly by himself. that seems to be a good reflection of the type of hardworker he is behind closed doors. he holds himself to insanely high standards, and wants to continue discovering an even better and improved version of himself all the time; especially in regards to his career. he isn't the type to work for other people's approval and crave their validation, but moreso his own satisfaction and fulfilment. he feels his best when he's able to conquer challenges with his own strength, and isn't dependent on anyone's assistance.

there is this very slow-moving and patient energy to him, where he isn't impulsive and doesn't rush into things. he makes sure he contemplates his actions several times before actually going through with them. this makes him a considerate guy who respects people's boundaries. the people he surrounds himself with, lee know choses wisely and carefully. he won't just give his precious time to anyone. but the people he does spend it with, he cherishes dearly.

this is so interesting, because on the one hand he can give off this immensely individualistic energy, where he just kinda lives in his own world to his own accord, yet on the other hand, he's someone who deeply values the handful of people he's close to. there is this nurturing and loyal side of lee know only the ones close to him could tell you about. he puts a lot of importance into looking after his intimate circle of friends and family, and making sure they feel cared for.

- lee know is quite conventional and more traditional in his views. i don't necessarily see him being judgemental or condemning things or people different to him out of malice, he just consciously rejects them for himself since they're so foreign to him. he prefers staying in his own bubble and living the lifestyle he's already familiar with and accustomed to. he hates when people stick their nose in his business though, or pretend they have a say in his life. he lives his life based on his own beliefs, values and desires, and will get genuinely annoyed if someone pretends they know what's good for him.

his caution can also go to extremes sometimes. he's the type of person to only invest energy into something, when he himself sees substantial benefit behind it. if something feels empty to him, he won't entertain it any longer. he also seems to be a person who doesn't enjoy the feeling of regret, it just seems to kinda linger in him and nag at him for a while, which is why he's extra careful about how he proceeds in several areas of life. even if, let's say he has this seed of an idea for something in his head; it's likely he won't always bravely go forward with it, out of fear of it potentially going wrong. he's hesitant to take any risks out of fear of losing his grip on what he's built till now. almost like he has this house of cards, and is trying to hold back any wind from making it fall down.

lee know is a person who doesn't enjoy displaying his negative and more self-deprecating emotions (like self-doubt, lack of confidence, insecurity or regret) externally and can therefore be prone to swallowing them, and internalizing them. this can lead to them potentially coming up in a more rash and stronger manner later on.

he will not hold back if you manage to provoke him, or rub him the wrong way. in general he actively avoids conflict or drama, but if he catches someone intentionally sticking a dagger in him, he won't be the type to just stay silent. he can get very offensive and blunt, his words can get sharp as a knife, they're often quite hurtful. (very scorpio mercury thing) he just knows how to push people's buttons. he's excellent at reading people, and has a quick wit. so he'll probably have your vulnerable spots already all figured out before you even know it, and hit you at places he knows will trigger you.

a lot of this seems to stem from him just being on guard a lot. he doesn't wanna get hurt, so if a person manages to make him feel threatened, he's likely to go into verbal offense mode out of self protection. i just heard “hurt people hurt people”. as mentioned before, he's gone through his fair share of struggle until now. reason why he seems extra protective of his peace at this point in time.

[insolemi]

New Beginnings

cate dunlap (gen v) x (hopefully)gn!reader

summary: cate's life takes a series of turns when she gets to God U, and you're at the center of all of them

genre: fluff, potential angst

inclusions: language, awkward situations, touchstarved and socially awkward!cate, overly-excited and outgoing!reader, ooc cate fs, this is more a few different scattered scenes that it is a full, single plot fic so be aware, my first attempt at a fic so please lower expectations

wc: 4.4k

hiiii… y’all i am so sorry this took me seventy years to get posted, i had the strangest series of events happen, but here it is and i hope you enjoy it !!

Godolkin is an entirely new environment.

It's not like Cate hadn't known that going into it, hadn’t known that her life would be completely different from the moment Indira Shetty had shown up in her room and offered her a way out of her childhood bedroom turned prison. She doesn’t think she’d ever be able to repay her for that. For getting her out of that house, out from under the echoing emptiness of the four walls of her bedroom and the occasional sound of her online homework videos.

For being the reason she met you. Her pretty, sweet little roommate.

Move-in day hadn’t been particularly good or bad, the large crowds of people and their chattering were overwhelming but calming at the same time, knowing the voices weren’t in her head but out loud, around her this time.

She made her way down the hall, brushing through smaller crowds of students and their parents as she counted the different numbers above the doors. 415, 417, 419. She reads the number, coming to a slow stop outside of the dorm room with the number written on the piece of paper in her hand, her name labeled right next to your name. The thought alone of it makes her nauseous, having to share a bedroom with an entirely new person she’d never met before and hope that they get along. 

Whatever. It’s fine. She can do this. All she has to do is walk into the room, introduce herself to you, and try her best to not embarrass herself. That’s easy enough, no? It’s not like its rocket science or a hostage situation (although the way her heart is beating loudly in her ears might say differently), all she has to do is walk in and say ‘Hi, I’m Cate’. 

She stands in the doorway, just staring at your back for a moment, her eyes wide, the leather of her gloves creaking around the strap of the bag she’s holding in her hands (one of the only things she’d even brought with her) as she works up the courage to just open her mouth and talk as the only thing running through her mind is that everything is fine, she's got this, all she has to do is say–

Fuck.

The second her mouth opens, you turn to face her from the desk you’d been arranging things on and any words she’d been carefully planning in her head die on the tip of her tongue immediately at the sight of you. 

She hardly has any time to let the thought cross her mind and register it before you’re in her space, introducing yourself with an excited note to your sweet voice and wrapping your arms around her in a brief hug, your chin pressed against the side of her shoulder, the palm of your hands braced on the back of her shoulders, the other hand around her neck. You pull back from her and rest your hands above the back of her elbows, your face still in her direct orbit as you smile at her, your mouth opening to continue speaking. “You’re Cate, right? My roommate?” There’s a pretty little sparkle to your eye that she has to tear her own away from.

She can’t think about anything but the sound of your voice ringing in her ears and the feeling of the heat of your hands over her sleeves, but she somehow manages to get the words out of her mouth to finally introduce herself. “Uh, yeah, hi,” she forces out, her head spinning so fast that she can’t think properly and she stumbles back a step, pulling out of your grasp, unable to handle the warmth of your touch. She awkwardly tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “I'm, um… Cate.” It’s been so long since anyone touched her so enthusiastically, without any ounce of hesitation, and now here you are, all smiles and casual touches, and she can barely keep it together.

But she does. She doesn’t want to come across as weird, a freak, so she smiles and nods along with your excited chattering, your energy far off the charts of anything near the realm of what she’s used to. “Thank god,” you laugh, clapping your hands together as you look her over for probably the first real time since she entered the room. “I was so worried I was gonna get a total bitch, but you seem sweet, so, again, thank god.” Another bell-ringing laugh.

“You have a nice laugh.” Fuck. Again. Her and her big mouth. “Sorry! I didn’t–”

“It's fine! Thank you," you keep the pretty smile on your face as you continue to look over Cate, a tint to your cheeks appearing briefly before you’re back to talking, something she’s starting to get the sense you do a lot (not that she minds, not if it means she gets to keep hearing your voice). "Oh, your hair is so gorgeous," you lift a hand from where it’s clasped in front of your chest to briefly lift a strand of Cate's blonde hair, admiring the clips she has in place.

Cate feels her pulse quicken. “Uh... thanks. It’s just, you know... hair,” she laughs nervously, unsure what else to say. Your touch, though brief, leaves behind a warmth that spreads through her chest, and it’s making her head spin

You smile brightly, seemingly unaware of how much you're affecting her. “Y’know, you and me? We’re going to be best friends. I can already tell.” 

Cate’s face flushes instantly. "Oh, um... yeah! That’d be cool." Her voice cracks slightly as she tries to match your enthusiasm, and she winces inwardly. You sound so sure of yourself, have so much conviction in your voice that Cate can hardly do anything other than believe your words. It’s overwhelming, in the best way, but she feels like she’s drowning in it. She’s not used to this kind of attention directed at her. You’re all smiles, your energy is infectious, and it’s making her feel out of place for not being able to respond how she wants to. She knows what she wants to say, but that’s almost never what leaves her mouth.

Still in the back of her head, there’s a wiggling part that kinda smarts at what you say. Best friends. That’s exactly what she needs, she thinks, a genuine best friend, though that thought directed at you makes her chest tighten in a way she doesn’t know how to handle, for reasons she doesn’t want to think about.

“You seem... really sweet, too,” Cate admits, biting her lip the moment the words leave her mouth. She hates how transparent she’s being but with you... it’s hard to hide how much she’s already attached.

Your smile grows even warmer. “Good! ‘Cause I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me, Cate.”

Cate lets out a nervous laugh, trying to mask the overwhelming flood of emotions that sentence sparks. "Yeah... I’m okay with that." More than okay, she thinks, but she can’t say that out loud.

—

It’s late, and the two of you are sitting on the loveseat couch in your dorm room that you’d somehow managed to acquire (somehow being you sweet-talking a frat boy out of one, not that anyone else needed to know that), mid-way through watching some animated movie Cate can’t remember the name of but you’d forced her to watch (‘forced’ meaning you asked her once to watch it and she caved) once you realized she’d never seen it. You’ve been leaning against Cate’s side for most of it, your head resting on her shoulder, legs thrown over the arm of the couch, and she’s been tense the whole time, back ramrod straight, trying her best not to move too much, not to let her nerves show. She’s terrified that if she moves, you’ll realize how fast her heart is racing.

It’s silent in the room until you let out a soft sigh, shifting slightly where you’re laying basically your entire body against her side. Cate can’t help but somehow stiffen up more. This doesn’t escape your notice, just like anything else that has to do with her, and you lift your head, turning it to look at her.

“You okay?” The concern in your voice makes her heart squeeze and she makes a conscious effort to relax a little. 

“Yeah,” she slips you a tight smile, her eyes darting back and forth between the screen and your face. More than okay if she’s being honest.

You nod, a soft hum of contentment leaving your lips as you lay your head back down on her shoulder, pulling your legs closer to you on the couch and loosely wrapping an arm around hers. Cate’s breath hitches despite her best efforts to focus on anything other than your bare palm on her arm. “Yeah,” you echo, the sound full of a kind of relaxation Cate desperately wishes she could hit.

It falls silent in the room again, the neon colors on the screen glowing brightly around the room, casting long shadows where the light can’t quite reach. There’s almost something either poetic or ironic in that, Cate thinks. Maybe she could figure it out if she could think about something other than the heat of your skin or your breath fanning out over her arm, your eyes still focused solely on the screen.

She feels like she should say something more, but the words get stuck in her throat, but all she can think about is how warm you feel against her, how much she wants this moment to last forever.

You glance up at her again, noticing the distant look on her face, and nudge her with a playful grin. "You’re still watching, right?" you tease, your voice light but laced with affection. “This is my favorite part.”

Cate blinks, momentarily startled, then forces a sheepish smile. “Uh, yeah. Totally.” But in reality, she hasn’t processed a single frame of the movie. How could she, when you’re so close? When your every movement sends ripples of warmth through her?

The movie continues to play, but all Cate can focus on is how natural it feels, how right it feels, sitting next to you like this.

—

It’s been a few weeks since you two moved in together, and Cate is slowly starting to feel more comfortable around you. She’s still a little awkward, old habits die hard (especially ones like hers), but she’s not as jumpy as she used to be. Especially not now when, where there used to be hard spots of tension in every silence between you two, are now small, quiet moments that are more comforting than they are terrifying.

So today, when you suggested grabbing coffee at the campus café, Cate agreed. Even if the thought of spending time alone with you, even if it is in a public space, still makes her heart race, she just couldn’t find it in herself to say no this time. She’s sitting across from you, absently stirring her drink as you talk about anything and everything, your hands doing most of the speaking for you when you bring it up. 

“So…” She can already tell you think you’re taking a risk bringing it up, which makes her stomach twist a little. “There’s this little hangout thing – not a party!” You reassure immediately, hand coming up to stop any protests she might have, already well aware that parties aren’t her thing; too many people, too much noise, too much of a risk of something bad happening. “It’s not a party, it’s just, like, five or six people, I swear.”

“You should come with me!” you say, your eyes lighting up. “It’ll be fun, I promise.” It’s a long shot, asking her to go to a party (or anything, really), and you both know it, but you never skip asking her anyway, despite her numerous rejections. It makes her feel… warm? That you never give up on her. That alone makes her reconsider her usual knee-jerk reaction of saying ‘no’.

Her fingers toy with the rim of her cup, buying her a moment to think. “I don’t know...” she begins, her voice hesitant. “Parties aren’t really my thing.” She glances up at you, biting her lip. “But... maybe.”

You nearly spill your coffee as you sit up straighter, eyes wide and a hopeful smile on your face. “Wait—really? You’d come?”

Cate feels her heart skip a beat at your genuine surprise and excitement. A small, tentative smile pulls at her lips, and for once, she lets herself enjoy the idea. “Yeah,” she shrugs, trying to sound casual even though her heart is racing. “Why not, right?”

You grin from ear to ear, letting out a little squeal of excitement, making her feel a little braver for saying yes. “This is awesome, Cate! You won’t regret it, I swear.”

She hopes you’re right.

—

Later that night, Cate stands in front of the mirror, adjusting her shirt nervously for what feels like the hundredth time. She’s never been comfortable with events like this, even if it is nothing big, just a small gathering with some people from your class like you’d said. Despite the anxiety gnawing at her, she’s determined to at least try, especially since it means spending more time with you outside of classes. She tugs at the sleeves of her shirt, her eyes lingering on her gloves.

Your soft knock on the open closet door pulls her from her thoughts. You poke your head around it, a playful grin on your face. “You ready?”

Nope. She is absolutely in no way prepared for this. At all. Cate takes a deep breath, her lips quirking into a small, hesitant smile. “Yup,” she chirps, though there’s still audible uncertainty in her voice.

You walk over to her, gently reaching out to fix a stray strand of hair that’s fallen out of place. Your fingers barely graze her skin, but it’s enough to send her pulse racing. “You look great, Cate.”

Cate’s breath catches at the compliment, and she gives a soft, nervous laugh. “Thanks,” she murmurs, her cheeks flushing ever so slightly. “You too. I mean, you also look great.” She's not entirely sure that covers it.

You grab your bag, slinging it over your shoulder. “Don’t worry,” you say reassuringly, “I’ll be right there with you the whole time.”

For some reason, that promise makes all the difference. Cate takes another steadying breath and follows you to the door, feeling just a little braver with you by her side.

Maybe tonight, she’ll finally stop holding herself back.

—

A few weeks later and the two of you are lying on your beds, the lights dimmed, just talking about anything and everything. These late-night conversations have become a nightly routine since moving in together, and Cate is starting to feel like she can really open up to you in ways she hasn’t with anyone else. There's something about the quiet of the room, the gentle rhythm of your voice, and the way you listen without judgment that makes her feel... safe, she thinks. 

You stretch out, letting your arm dangle off the edge of the bed, glancing over at her. “Hey, Cate,” you ask softly, “what’s your family like?”

Cate hesitates, staring up at the ceiling. She’s never been good at talking about them—the weight of her past always feels too heavy, too personal. But with you, it doesn’t feel quite as suffocating. There's something about the way you ask, like you’re genuinely interested, but not pushing her to share more than she’s comfortable with. She still isn’t sure how much she wants to reveal, but the silence that follows your question is patient, giving her room to breathe.

She finally speaks, her voice low. “My family’s... complicated.” She shifts slightly on her bed, pulling at the sleeve of her shirt. “I don’t really talk to them much anymore.”

You turn your head to look at her, your voice soft and full of understanding. “I’m sorry, Cate.”

Cate swallows, feeling a familiar tightness in her chest. She doesn’t want to go too deep, doesn’t want to drag the mood down, so she shrugs, trying to make it seem like it’s not that big of a deal. “It’s okay. I’m... kinda used to it by now.” Her voice wavers slightly, betraying her attempt at nonchalance.

The room falls into a thoughtful silence. It’s not uncomfortable, just heavy with the unspoken weight of everything Cate has never said aloud. You don’t push for more, just let her words hang in the air, like you’re giving her the space to share if she wants to. After a long pause, you break the silence with a soft chuckle.

“You know, I think we’re kind of like family now,” you say, the warmth in your tone unmistakable. You roll over on your side, facing her, your face half-lit by the soft glow from the window. “I mean, we live together, we spend a lot of time together, grocery shopping... pretty much checks all the boxes, right?”

Cate turns her head slightly, surprised by your words. The idea catches her off-guard, but not in a bad way. It’s just... new. “Yeah?” she murmurs, her voice uncertain. “You think so?”

“Definitely,” you say with a grin. “And you don’t have to think about any of that shit with your family right now. You've got me.” You scoot a little closer on your bed, giving her an earnest look. “So... if you ever wanna, like, talk about it, I’m here. But if not, that’s cool too. It won’t hurt my feelings or anything.”

Cate’s heart skips a beat. It’s not the words themselves that get to her—it’s the sincerity behind them. The way you say it, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, makes her feel like maybe she’s not as alone as she thought.

A small, genuine smile tugs at her lips. “Yeah,” she murmurs, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. “I guess.”

You flash her another warm smile, your voice light. “See? I’m not so bad to have around, right?”

Cate chuckles softly, the sound easing some of the tension in her shoulders. “Eh, you’re alright,” she teases gently, heaving an exasperated sounding sigh. “Guess I could do worse.”

You laugh, a playful glint in your eye. “Wow, thanks, I think? High praise coming from you.”

Cate rolls her eyes, but there’s no denying the smile that’s still on her face. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Too late,” you reply, your grin widening as you settle back into your pillow. The easy banter between you both feels like a balm, soothing the heaviness of the earlier conversation.

—

You and Cate are sitting on the bed, talking like usual, but there’s something different about today—something a little heavier in the air. Cate’s been quieter than normal, her gloved hands resting tensely in her lap, fingers curling and uncurling against the fabric. You can tell something’s bothering her, the way her gaze keeps flicking down to her hands, then back up at you, as if she’s debating something in her head.

You wait for her to speak, sensing that there’s something she wants to say but is struggling to get out. Finally, you reach over and place your hand on top of hers, your thumb tracing gentle circles over the soft leather. “Cate... what’s going on?” Your voice is full of care, inviting her to share what’s going through her head, even when you both know you already know.

It’s silent in the room for a moment before you speak again. “It’s about your gloves, right?” A gross underestimation and you both know it. “You don’t have to wear those if you don’t want to. Not around me.”

Cate’s breath hitches, her eyes widening as she pulls her hands away instinctively. “I– I do,” she whispers, almost like she’s trying to convince herself as much as you. “You don’t understand. If I touch someone, tell them to do something... they have to. I can’t just take it back. What if I say something I don’t mean? What if I hurt you without even realizing it?”

Your expression softens as you scoot closer, your knees brushing against hers. “I trust you, Cate,” you say firmly, but with a gentleness that makes her heart ache. “C’mon, I know you’d never hurt me. Not like that.”

Cate bites her lip, her gaze dropping again to the gloves. She’s heard those words from you before, but it’s hard to believe them, especially when the memories of what happened to her brother still haunt her. “It’s not that simple,” she mutters, her voice tight. “I could slip up. All it takes is– is a touch and a word, and I could—” She stutters through her words before they break off, biting her lip. The thought of losing control terrifies her.

You lean forward, holding her hands tighter, not letting go this time. “I do know,” you say softly, your eyes searching hers. “I know, Cate, what you can do, what happened to your brother, but I also know you. And I’m not scared of you because I know it wasn’t your fault. Not even a little.”

Cate’s breath catches, her heart pounding as she stares at you with wide, searching eyes. No one’s ever said that to her—not like this. Not with so much confidence in her. She wants to believe you, wants to trust that she won’t make a mistake... but the fear of losing control, of saying something she can’t take back, always lingers at the edge of her thoughts.

She looks away, her voice trembling. “But what if—”

“No ‘what ifs,’ Cate,” you interrupt gently, moving her hand up to your cheek, even with the glove still on. “You can take them off. I want you to. Please?”

Cate’s heart pounds, her fingers trembling beneath the leather. She hesitates for a long moment, her mind racing with a hundred different reasons why she shouldn’t. But something about the way you’re holding her hand—like it’s nothing, like you don’t see the danger—makes her want to try.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, she reaches for the edge of one glove, pulling it off with trembling fingers. Her hand feels exposed, vulnerable, but you don’t flinch. You just hold her gaze, calm and patient, as if this is the most natural thing in the world.

She pulls off the second glove, her bare hands now resting in yours. She waits—waits for something to go wrong, for the fear to take over. But nothing happens. You don’t pull away. You don’t flinch. Instead, you gently lift her hand back to your cheek, letting her feel the warmth of your skin.

“See?” you whisper, your voice gentle. “You’re in control, Cate. Nothing bad is going to happen.”

Cate’s breath hitches, her chest tight with emotion. She can hardly believe what’s happening—she’s touching you, skin to skin, and it’s okay. It’s more than okay. It feels... right.

“I never thought I’d be able to do this,” she whispers, her voice barely audible. “I was so scared I’d mess up... that I’d say something and lose you.”

You smile softly, still holding her hand against your cheek. “You don’t have to be afraid, not with me. I trust you, Cate. I always have.”

Cate’s heart swells, the weight of her fear slowly lifting. For the first time in what feels like forever, she feels safe. Not just because of your touch, but because of the way you believe in her—like she’s more than just her power, more than her fear.

“I... I trust you too,” she finally whispers, a small smile tugging at her lips. She holds onto your touch, the warmth of your hand grounding her in a way she’s never felt before. “Thank you. For believing in me.”

And in that moment, with your hand in hers, the fear that’s haunted her for so long feels just a little bit lighter. Light enough to get everything else off of her chest.

Cate swallows hard, feeling like her heart’s going to burst right out of her chest. She tries to steady herself, but the weight of everything she’s been bottling up is too much. She glances down at her hands, then back at you, and before she can stop herself, the words start to spill out—awkward, messy, but real. “I... I’m scared because... because I care about you. Like, a lot. More than I’ve ever cared about anyone, and... and the thought of hurting you... it just—it freaks me out.”

She looks away as soon as she says it, like she’s half-expecting you to laugh or push her away. But you don’t. Her heart skips a beat when she hears your voice, soft and closer than she expected.

Your heart skips a beat at her confession, but you don’t pull away. “Cate, you’re not gonna hurt me.” You lean in, your voice a little quieter, a little more vulnerable. “I care about you too... more than you know.”

Her head snaps up, eyes wide as she stares at you like she can’t believe what she just heard. “Wait... you—you do?”

“Yeah.” You nod, looking just as nervous but still smiling a little. “I’ve felt like this for a while. I just... didn’t know how to say it.”

Cate opens her mouth, but all that comes out is this weird little half-laugh, half-gasp sound, like she’s trying to process it all. “You’re serious? You like... you’ve liked me?”

“Yeah. For a while now.”

There’s this awkward pause where you’re both kind of just staring at each other, unsure of what to say next. Cate lets out a shaky breath, her fingers twitching in your grasp, and she looks down again, her voice barely a whisper. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”

Your smile softens, and you reach out, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “You don’t have to think about that. I’m not going anywhere.”

Cate’s throat tightens, and she feels her eyes starting to sting. She blinks quickly, trying to hold back the tears, but it’s no use. They’re not just tears of fear anymore. It’s everything—relief, hope, something she hasn’t let herself feel in a long time. She leans in without really thinking, her forehead resting against yours, her voice barely audible, trembling just a little.

“Promise?” she whispers, her breath warm against your skin.

You nod, your eyes closing as you hold her just a little tighter. “Promise.”

In that moment, Cate finally lets herself believe it might be okay.

[wings-of-ink]

zahn spinnet about cook mc making a whole shepherds pie just for them

they really need to put some meat on those bones

Oh that would be so sweet. Also, super weird you mentioned shepherds pie specifically...that is exactly what I've made for dinner tonight! You watchin' me, Anon?

So, Zahn has an optional romantic scene in the chapter that I'm writing now. I'm not too far away from doing that scene currently, so I think I'll post a teaser from that. We'll work on getting Zahn fed well in the next couple chapters. ^_^

So, until then...

The smell around you is divine. You've patiently waited for your newest creation to finish baking over the fire. Zahn is to meet you at home soon, and little do they know about the feast you have prepared.

Carefully, you use your hand, wrapped in a towel, to turn the trammel hook so you can retrieve the kettle. Prying the hot lid off you are suddenly enveloped more in the wonderful smells. It looks perfect. The mash you've placed atop the meat, gravy and vegetables has a lovely and lightly-toasted crust. The thick filling underneath bubbling through, creating extra tasty pockets of goodness.

As you let the pot cool, the brisk chill of early winter speeding things along, you prepare a basket of bread and a bottle of cider. A meal fit for royalty. You set the table, including the kettle and a single large plate just for Zahn. This special meal is only for them. You've already decided to have a simple meal of your own and some bread and cider of course. You cannot wait to see Zahn's big blue eye light up at the feast.

What should you call it, though? You used some mutton supplemented with a bit of goat as your meat...and it is a bit like a pie, just without pastry. Perhaps 'shepherd's pie' - considering a shepherd would have such animals at their disposal...they could eat the part of the flock they do not like. You smirk to yourself.

A knock sounds at the door - one that sounds like some sort of bizarre code before it resolves into frantic little taps.

"Come in!" you call.

Zahn rushes in and quickly closes the door behind them. They're piled with cloaks already, and the cold has barely set in. "Oh, it's so warm in here!"

After shedding all cloaks but their special one, Zahn rushes to hug you. You snuggle them close, tucking their cold nose into the crook of your neck. Once you begin feeling the pecks of little kisses, you know that Zahn is just warm enough. If you don't, you'll both end up missing dinner - again.

"Come sit, dinner is ready." You grab Zahn's hand and tug them to the table.

Zahn gasps. "Oh wow! That looks delicious. I love potatoes!"

"You love all food, and it's not just potatoes. Sit, I'll serve you."

Zahn claps. "Oh I love it when you tell me that," they say, plopping down in their seat.

You scoop out a huge helping of your special pie and carefully set it on the plate, splaying sliced bread along the side before you pour a cup of cider for them.

Zahn's eyes are huge and their hand is covering their mouth. "Oh, I'm drooling...but what about you?"

"I made this all for you. I told you that I'm going to make sure you get all the food you could ever want from now on. You're never going hungry ever again." You smile.

"All for me?"

You nod. "I'll start with bread and cider, but I'll just have some-"

"Please eat it with me..." Zahn's pink lips are pulled in a frown and you realize those blue eyes you adore so much are watery. "I can't believe you'd do something like this for the likes of me..." The tears finally fall. "I want you more than any feast."

You reach across the table and hold Zahn's hand. "Okay...if that's what you want."

Zahn smiles and wipes their eyes. "Let's eat until we have to roll on the floor to get around!"

As you dig in, Zahn's pleased moans over their food make you smile. They finish one plate quickly and then get another helping. "This is the best thing I've ever eaten. What is it?"

"You said that the last time we made a big dinner, and I call it shepherd's pie."

Zahn looks down at their plate. "...You made this out of a shepherd?"

You stare back unsure if Zahn is joking or not.

"Were they old or something?" Zahn asks, taking a big bite of the meat.

You really hope Zahn was joking...