#because sometimes you try and you get shut down

[sleepyparalysisdmon]

Mingyu's expressive eyes

Requested? Yes!

Request: ‘Mingyus expressive eyes ‘

TW/CW: contains heavily implied smut near the end. MDNI. 

Mingyu gives everything away when he looks at you.

He gave you a dreamy look at first, even before you both were together. His members teased him incessantly for the dazed, far-away look in his eyes. His longing wasn’t so obvious to you right away, not until you overheard one of his members tease him about it. And then there it was, so obvious how his big eyes trail after your every move. You find that you like it because it’s a look that’s so full of affection that he doesn’t quite have an outlet for yet.

Then there are the wide eyes that he stares at you with when you tell him you feel the same. You make some assumptions about his feelings, longing stares, and all, but he’s thrilled that you know. Those wide eyes narrow, crinkling at the corners when he grins. It’s a look that you’ll grow familiar with only because it will become a default.��

There’s the sleepy look that he gives you early in the morning or right before bed. He’s fighting with himself in these moments because he would like to stay in bed and be awake to spend time with you. But still, his sleepy eyes drifting shut only to snap open to look at you again is sweet. Especially after a long day of practice, you’ll urge him to stop resisting sleep with a soft sweep of your hand across his cheek, and you’ll turn to mush at how his eyes flutter closed. But if he gives you that look in the morning, you might open your arms to him to keep him there for another five minutes. 

Speaking of, he loves to be in your arms. You’ll learn what those puppy eyes mean. It means he wants your arms wrapped around him with his face buried in your neck. It’s his favorite place to be. He’ll give you that look from his pillow when his side of the bed is too cold. He’ll give you that look when he gets home from a long day of being away from you and all but collapsed on top of you on the couch. 

But he likes to hold you, too. He’ll give you that warm look when he wants you close, opening his arms for you to crawl into. His eyes crinkle at the corners then, too, but there’s something less giddy about it. Oh, don’t get me wrong, you still make him giddy on occasion, but after a while, he’ll grow relaxed in your presence, comforted by the fact that you guys are on the same wavelength. It’s one of your favorite things to feel a smile against your forehead when he pulls you in. You don’t have to see him to know that he still has that warm look in his eyes. 

There’s that doe-eyed look that he gives you when you ask him to help you with something. He loves to help you. The moment you pout and hesitate to ask for something, he’s giving you a wide, soft look that’s full of adoration as he asks you what he can do for you. He’s helpless to say no to you, and the look says it all. 

There’s that watery look that he gives you sometimes, usually when he’s traveling. You can see it through the phone screen on FaceTime that he’s blinking back some emotion at being so far away from you. There’s not much you’ll be able to do to clear that look and bring back another, happier look. It’ll bring tears to your eyes, and the only cure is for him to come back home soon.

Then there’s the dark, steely look that he gives others when he’s jealous. You’d never try to see that look on purpose, but you know he’s a tad possessive. Sometimes, that dark expression is turned to you. But don’t be fooled. He’ll fold, expression shifting to something more vulnerable and open when you ease his worries with a soft touch and some soft words. 

18+ beyond this point

He’s got a fiery look when he becomes dominant with you. You see it staring down at you when he’s hovering over you, making your eyes roll back. Now, that’s his favorite look on you, lost in the bliss, and he’s made it his goal to find out exactly what makes you lose yourself like that. Even if his touch is soft sometimes, he’s relentless about targeting those things that will bring you to the edge again and again. In between those falls, you feel yourself heat all over again at the look of determination in his eyes. 

Then there’s the all-knowing look he gives you when he senses that you need him. He’ll give you exactly what you want - and he usually knows exactly what that is because he sometimes thinks he can read your mind - but this moment does make him giddy, sweeping you off your feet at a moment’s notice to make all your dreams come true. Don’t let him play dumb with you. He’ll let his hands graze dangerously close to where you want them with a bit of a smirk, waiting for you to ask. There's not a single thing that he won't do for you. Ever.

Then there are times that he’s needy. He’ll look up at you where you’re perched on top of him, working him up. His eyes are deep and trusting, with the occasional tears hitting his lash line when it feels too good to the point of overwhelm. He’ll do his best to look at you if that’s what you want, looking totally love-struck when he meets your eyes, but you’ll kind of like that he can’t keep his eyes from rolling either. You get why he likes the look on you because nothing turns you on more than watching those pretty eyes of his roll back with little gasps. He might make you say what you want, but you’ll know what he wants because it’s written all over his face. 

[sebsbarnes]

Hi i love your work! I was wondering if u could do a fic where tangerine x reader are running from enemies on a job and they end up making out to try and hide from the enemies because pda makes people uncomfortable? Like the comment black widow makes to steve rogers in the winter soldier before she kisses him?

im backkk! so sorry for the massive delay, i love this request. it may be a little rusty so i apologize now.

pda || tangerine

tangerine x reader

warnings: brief talks of shooting and guns

word count: 1.2k+

masterlist

"you're a fuckin' idiot, tan," you snapped in defeat, looking at the man who appeared clueless about the situation.

he tsked and continued to move deeper into the building, "there's nothing to worry about. alarm gets tripped so what? we got a few minutes before anyone shows up."

with slow footsteps you followed behind him. irate was the only word to describe your mood. you mimicked him behind his head, arms up in the air, your gun flailing around dangerously in your right hand as you muttered in a whiny baby voice, 'we got a few minutes'.

tangerine and stubbornness go hand in hand, you can't have one without the other. his attitude made missions sometimes far easier when there were issues with other individuals or, in this case, far more difficult. instead of waiting an extra five minutes for the incoming call from lemon providing tangerine with the keycode, tangerine took it upon himself to smash the keypad. of course, an orchestra of alarms rang out and bounced off the walls of the building in an almost deafening manner. but rest assured, there was no one in the building...according to tangerine.

"c'mon we need to hurry up," you said, now walking in stride with him, "second-floor unit 204."

it was a file the two of you were after. information was scarce to get. a mission would come through, assigned off to you, and that was the extent of knowledge you had. as far as you and tangerine knew, your boss wanted the list of names encrypted on the file. what you didn't know was that the building was teeming with employees ready to defend the file.

there was a loud boom followed by an eerie silence. immediately you and tangerine halted, his hand coming to hover in front of your body preventing you from moving. tangerine's eyebrows were pulled into a deep furrow attempting to use some sort of instinct to decipher where the noise was coming from. he caught your eye before following your pointed fingers that were angled above and to the left. just as he pivoted his head, a symphony of gunshots rang.

"move!" he demanded, gripping your jacket and shoving you behind a structural pillar.

the whizzing of the bullets sounded as if you were surrounded by a swarm of bees. you were silently cursing at tangerine for his rash decisions earlier. you watched as tangerine shot five men in succession.

"oh but we had time, right?" you barked, aiming your sights on seemingly the last gentleman. with a squeeze of the trigger, the bullet went flying, piercing the man on the side of his neck.

tangerine sprinted from his position, "let's go," he directed, grabbing onto your wrist.

"god-," you panted, "i hate working with you sometimes."

"oh shut up," he huffed as your legs pounded against the waxed tiles, your wrist still bouncing in his grasp.

just as the two of you were about to push open the front doors, a bullet shattered the glass causing the two of you to stumble. daring to peer behind you, you were met with about four men charging forward.

"shit, c'mon," tangerine rushed.

tangerine guided you around the corner of the building, sprinting into a busier part of town. there was no chance of losing the men and although the distance between grew wide, you could still hear the pounding of the footsteps. with you in tow, tangerine darted into a convenience store. through short breaths, you could hear tangerine muttering how there is a back exit. you took the opportunity to shrug off your jacket and toss it down one of the aisles in a measly attempt to disguise yourself. without warning you gripped tangerine's button down and popped the first three buttons open. he sent you a look of disgust.

"can you try disguising yourself?" the annoyance in your tone evident. without a word, tangerine huffed as he discarded his perfectly tailored jacket and vest by shoving it into a man's arms.

you and tangerine decided to cut into a park. it was risky doing so. the park only had one real entrance and exit and there wasn't much to hide behind. tangerine figured it was the best option instead of walking the busy streets and putting innocent lives in danger. so, the two of you darted through the gate but not before one last look at the unwelcomed guests trailing behind. thankfully, there was enough distance that the man leading the pack didn't notice the small detour you two took.

"what the fuck!" you groaned quietly after a few minutes of heaving breaths and pebbles scattering beneath your feet. you noticed one of the men walking slowly through the park's weaving pathways.

tangerine ran a hand through his hair, "we got nowhere to go."

you felt your palms getting sweaty as you tried raking your brain of what to do. tangerine looked just as clueless as you. the park had one entrance and the two of you were trapped in the corner.

"kiss me."

"what?" tangerine asked incredulously.

"pda, it uh-" you stammered, "it makes people uncomfortable."

a nervous chuckle escaped his lips but you couldn't miss the way his tongue poked out between his lips, "i'm not-"

before your mind could process your movements you were shoving tangerine by the shoulders and forcing him to sit down on the park bench. as if it was the most natural action in the world, you placed your knees on either side of his legs and sat on his thighs. leaning down you pressed your lips against his. your hands trailed up the back of his neck and into his now loose curls. you noted how tangerine didn't seem to move at first until it was like he suddenly came to life and his hands gripped at your hips.

tangerine's mind was spinning. he'd never dare to admit but he dreamed of this. the way your lips slotted perfectly into his, the feeling of your heart thumping against his chest, your nails gently gliding against his scalp, the feeling of your weight on him.

the kiss was gentle yet desperate. a kiss so perfect that you only read about it in romance novels. too perfect that you didn't even hear the suited man wielding a gun mutter how disgusting people are these days. his grimacing face going unnoticed as your lips molded to tangerine's. the echo of his footsteps receding faded into the night.

your lungs burned for air but you couldn't bring yourself to pull away. tangerine's cologne clouded your senses with a perfect mixture of cedarwood and green mandarin. his facial hair tickled at your face. you could feel tangerine's thigh flex with the movement of your body. his hands cradled your frame, your shirt slightly bunched in between his fingers. it pained you to pull away but you lost the ability to breathe.

your eyes fluttered in a sense of disbelief but also awe as tangerine's eyes bounced around your face. he noted the way your chest rapidly rose and fell, but for him, his breathing paused. he took in the way your lips were slightly swollen and glistening, the vanilla lip balm you applied earlier now transferred to his lips. your shirt now lopsided on your shoulders from him gripping your sides. though only one lamp lit the bench the two of you were perched on, tangerine could still see the pink flush dancing across your cheeks. gently, he raised his hand and brushed his thumb across your bottom lip, already missing the kiss.

if pda made people uncomfortable, tangerine wanted the whole world to feel unsettled.

[clesired]

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 | 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘 !

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 ! “can i request a fred x black cat!gf since he’s such a golden retriever!bf?” thank you to the lovely anon who requested this <3

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ! my take on what i imagine a golden retriever bf!fred x black cat gf!reader relationship looks like.

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ! no warnings, fem!reader, fluff, golden retriever bf!fred x black cat gf!reader, established relationship!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 !

🥥 golden retriever bf!fred who’s obsessed with you, his black cat!gf

🥥 you’re the only person that can get him to chill the heck out when he’s all hyper and causing chaos with george ( you and angelina are constantly tag teaming the twins )

🥥 will do anything you ask without question

🥥 constantly laying his head in your lap

🥥 will follow you around like a puppy

🥥 you are constantly wandering the castle grounds on your own and fred always has to hunt you down using the marauder’s map ( he borrows it from harry after he and george give it to him )

🥥 you never get pranked because you’re dating fred, but also because the twins are afraid of how you’d retaliate

🥥 cuddling is his favorite pastime

🥥 people are constantly sending you patronus messages to come and get fred because he’s causing a ruckus

🥥 professors regularly use you as a messenger to inform the twins when they have detention

🥥 fred found a way to get past the enchantment preventing boys from entering the girls’ dorm just so he can cuddle with you every night

🥥 he knows you hate quidditch and the only reason you watch the games is for him, so he always makes sure to balance out the weekends with stuff you like to do as well

🥥 carries your books and/or book bag for you even when you insist you can do it yourself

🥥 always makes a plate for you first; no matter if it’s breakfast, lunch, or dinner

🥥 loves to cuddle

🥥 if you’re ever in an argument/fight with someone, he’ll let you go off because he knows you can handle your own, but he’ll still be ready to jump in if things escalate

🥥 during breaks, he’s terrible at writing letters for everyone except you

🥥 he and george will sometimes pretend to be the other twin for a day but you thwart it every time because you can tell them apart

🥥 whether it’s holding hands, an arm around your waist, or even you sitting in his lap—if you’re near, you must be touching him in some way, shape, or form

🥥 you met him and george at the same time and they did that thing where they pretended to be the other twin, and you—the natural skeptic that you are, immediately called their bluff…he was head over heels after that

🥥 if someone calls your name, he will look up too

🥥 happily listens to you lecturing him after he gets injured in a game and ends up in the hospital wing—partially because he loves seeing how much you care, but also because the potions Madam Pomfrey gave him are strong

🥥 instantly melts when you card your hand(s) through his hair

🥥 will act like a needy baby when he’s ill and demand you take care of him ( you do, obviously )

🥥 in turn, will be the most doting mother hen when you’re ill even though you try to make him go away so you don’t spread your sickness to him

🥥 adding on to the previous one, he’ll get all embarrassed when you poke fun at him for his doting ( “the molly genes are strong in this one” )

🥥 will prank someone if they piss you off ( unprompted btw, you don’t even have to ask!!! )

🥥 will proudly wear an ‘i love my gf’ shirt

🥥 he loves it when you get jealous because he thinks it’s hot

🥥 he instantly shuts all of it down, though—he’d never dare let your relationship be disrespected

🥥 you don’t even need to ask for reassurance because he’s so loud in his love for you that you never question it in the first place ( you still get jealous though )

🥥 much to your chagrin, he names your fur baby y/n junior ( fic )

🥥 absolutely melts whenever you call him freddie

🥥 did i mention he likes to cuddle?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐪𝐮𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 !

𝐤𝐞𝐲 ! fred, you, other person

🐚 “guys, where’s my girlfriend?”

🐚 “i miss my girlfriend.” “she just went to the bathroom?” “exactly.”

🐚 “cuddle time?” ( constant ask btw, not that you’re complaining )

🐚 “can you at least pretend to be happy that your boyfriend is here?” “you’re supposed to be in detention!?”

🐚 “not arguing with my beautiful girlfriend. whatever you say, gorgeous.”

🐚 “can we go cuddle now?”

🐚 “i know my girlfriend is pretty, mate. you don’t need to stare though, yeah?”

🐚 “love it when you call me freddie.”

🐚 “are you single?” “fortunately, no!”

🐚 “why are we studying when we could be cuddling right now instead?”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐪𝐮𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 !

𝐤𝐞𝐲 ! you, fred, other people

🫧 “what did he do this time, professor?”

🫧 “nice try george, i know you’re not my boyfriend. where is he?”

🫧 “cuddle time.” ( your response every time he asks )

🫧 “freddie?” “yes, my love?” “nothing, just wanted to hear you call me that.”

🫧 “ang, i feel like the castle’s been too quiet lately.” “i agree…” “wait- where are the boys!?”

🫧 “y/n, come quick! fred keeps talking about spiking snape’s pumpkin juice!” “of course he is. why are you telling me this?” “you’re the only one who can tell him not to!”

🫧 “yes, we can go cuddle now, freddie.”

🫧 “y/nsaywhatifyouloveme.” “what?” “yes!”

🫧 “i love you, freddie.” “you love meee.” ( he giggles as he says it, canon )

🫧 “yes, my love—i think you’re the prettier twin.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ! wooh, first headcanon post done!!! i hope you lovelies enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

©clesired - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

xoxo,

mila! *: ･🐚༄🫧*ੈ✩

[lost-in-fandoms]

Winter Warmers day 19: Holiday magic. Maxiel, hurt/comfort. About 1k. (yes I know I am a couple days late. yes I also know they saw each other for padel, just...ignore it.)

When Daniel goes to bed, he's in Perth. He is in his bed, with his blankets, his white noise machine, his podcast, and his loneliness. He is a little too sad and a little too warm, thinking about all the ways his life has changed, is still changing. Thinking about the messages he has been ignoring, the calls he hasn't picked up.

When Daniel wakes up, none of those things are true.

When Daniel wakes up, he is in a different bed, just a light blanket covering him, with the distant sound of traffic filtering in through the windows, city lights slicing the shadows through the half closed curtains. He is a little confused, but comfortably warm.

And there are arms wrapped around his waist.

It's that really that makes him freeze, breath stuttering in his chest. Sometimes, with all the traveling, he does end up forgetting where he fell asleep. And even if he never got quite this confused, it wouldn't be too weird to be in an unfamiliar room, but there hasn't been anyone in his bed for weeks, so Daniel is pretty sure he would remember that.

Especially because whoever is spooning him is almost certainly male, broad chest pressed against his back, the slightest scratch of a scruffy beard against his neck.

He doesn't know what's happening. He doesn't know where he is, who he's with, and his heart rate is steadily picking up when whoever is holding him sighs, tugging him closer.

"Are you awake?"

And oh. Daniel knows this voice. Daniel knows the rasp of it, deeper with sleep.

But how in the hell did he end up in Max's bed?

"Stop panicking, Daniel, everything is of course fine," Max murmurs, moving his head to nuzzle his shoulder, one of his hands rubbing gentle circles on his hip.

Like this is normal. Like this is something they do, wake up together, in Max's bed. When Daniel was just in Perth, had not answered Max's calls in weeks, and the last time they had seen each other Daniel had gotten tears and snot all over Max's team kit, sweaty in the Singapore heat.

He tries to breathe, tries to will his heart to slow down, but all he manages is a small, breathless whine, as a shudder travels down his spine.

He feels untethered, shaken and lost, emotions mixing and bubbling over, threatening to spill, making a mess, like everything else in his life.

"Daniel, hey, no."

Concern drips from Max's words, and Daniel lets himself be turned around and tucked into his chest, hiding his face into Max's shirt. Lets Max breathe deep and exaggerated, trying to get Daniel to copy him. Lets Max murmur in his ear, careful and tender, almost the same tone of voice he uses for when his cats are spooked.

"I'm sorry," Max says, contrite, when Daniel's breathing is back to almost normal, even if he's still hiding into Max's chest. "I should have probably given you more space."

Maybe the reasonable answer to that would be a nod, since it was pretty confusing and scary to wake up in Max's arms, but at the mention of space all Daniel can do is tangle his fingers harder into Max's shirt, pressing closer.

He doesn't know how he's here, doesn't know what kind of miracle teleported him from his sad and lonely bed to Max's hug, doesn't know if he even deserves to be here, after avoiding him for so long, but now that he is here, he doesn't want any fucking space. Now that he's being held, talked to so softly, he realises how stupid he'd been, to shut everyone one like this, especially Max.

Max, who had been by his side on the worst weekend of his life. Max who had called, over and over, trying to stay inside of Daniel's walls, instead of being shut out. Max, who apparently held no grudges for all of it, taking care of him without questions.

He doesn't realise his breathing has picked up again until Max shushes him softly, rubbing his back with big, gentle hands.

"It's okay, you are okay, I am here now. You are here now."

"What happened?" Daniel finds himself ask, half choked, muffled by his unwillingness to move away.

Max's hands stutter on his back for a second as he shrugs, almost dislodging Daniel from his position.

"I am not sure. You appeared in my bed, and you did not even wake up. And you looked very tired, so of course I didn't wake you. I think..." Max pauses, uncertain, but then carries on. Never one to not go for the gap. "I think maybe I was thinking very hard about you, and you maybe needed to be here. Or not there."

As if the universe would be that simple. Daniel needed Max, so Daniel was with Max.

Daniel knows nothing worked that way. You don't get everything you need just because you want it, and you don't get everything you want because you need it.

And yet, here he is. Where he needs and wants to be, despite denying it for so long.

"Christmas magic," he says, forcing a rough chuckle out, feeling Max laugh a little with him.

"Yes," he agrees, as if Daniel hadn't been joking, trying to build up at least some of the fragile walls that Max had knocked down so easily, just with a hug.

"I think we should go back to sleep," Max adds after a while, still rubbing Daniel's back, "and then tomorrow I can lend you my plane, or we can talk about why you are sad."

Daniel flinches, still surprised, even after all these years, by Max's ability to cut straight to the core of things, no nice words to beat around the bush.

"I'm not..." he starts, but Max cuts him off, making his mouth snap shut.

"Don't lie to me, Daniel."

His voice is still warm but there's steel behind it, an order Daniel doesn't want to defy. So Daniel doesn't.

He doesn't know what time it is, how much he's already slept, but he's still tired, and he's comfortable and warm in a way he hasn't been in forever.

And Max knows him, and Max has got him, and Max won't leave.

So Daniel closes his eyes and goes back to sleep.

[oimitocat]

IT’S YOU | HC/DB

myung jaehyun x m!reader

fluff + idol!au + established relationship + sfw (wow) + 7th!member reader

a/n; i saw him once and spiraled down the bnd hole. why is he just so shufjfdhshhd.

dating him means having no self restraint

he doesn’t make it easy either, he likes to mess with you

playfully makes you jealous

he doesn’t order you around because he’s the leader: he orders you around because you’re so wrapped around his finger you’ll do it with no hesitation

”i need you guys to copy my move today, no backing out,” jaehyun announces with a mischievous grin.

“oh what will you make us do now?” leehan groans.

you simply smile, because fulfilling whatever your dear leader wants is something you’re willing to fulfill every time. seeing his adorable smile is everything you need to survive. he’s just so-

“y/n you’re squeezing too hard!” he whines as you pinch his cheeks.

“mm well who’s fault is it for being so cute?”

“ew,” dongmin gags playfully.

“jealous prick,” you playfully hit taesan’s arm as he walks past.

having taken advantage of you letting you to hit taesan, jaehyun runs off complaining about how he’ll look puffier.

he’s not insecure but he does show signs of discomfort in his own skin sometimes but you always make him feel better without being told how he feels

he always seeks you out just how he is with woonhak

he LOVES physical touch, could you not tell?

always holding your hand or hooking his arm with yours when walking next to you

LOVES IT when you give him piggy back rides

sometimes while all of you are getting touch ups, he’d be sitting on your lap and both your stylist and his have to deal with it

he didn’t like to be all over you like that before

you make him NERVOUS most of the time despite how shameless he is

will STARE YOU DOWN for a kiss because he literally gets gushy to ask for it

the two of you would be laying down on his bed, him cuddled into you. your phone is somewhere in the bedsheets, your cheek is rested on his head and your eyes stare at his phone as he scrolls through social media apps. one of your arms is under him, wrapped around to where your hand is above his hip.

he seems like he’s scrolling mindlessly, but he’s hyper focused on the way your fingers mess with the hem of his hoodie, raising it a bit and your fingertips grazing his skin.

“you’re zoning out,” you accuse when the same video repeats a third time.

“i am not, i was just trying to understand the video.” he argues, moving his head to look up at you.

“what is there to understand?” you chuckle, tilting your head to look at his pout, “the guy gets hit with a water ballon.”

“shut up,” he huffs, glaring at you, but you know better.

“yah, just say you want something,” you tease, leaning in to touch the tip of his nose with yours.

jaehyun makes a face before looking down at your lips. the tips of his ears are reddened, you grin.

“want a kiss?”

he nods, still not looking at you. you bring your hand out from the back of your head, shifting to a different position to lean in well. your free hand grabs his chin and tilts it up. your lips capture his in a soft kiss, you smile when he relaxes.

“next time don’t even ask baby,” you tease as you peck his lips again.

jaehyun huffs, trying to scoot away but your hand grips his waist and keeps him in place.

constant sleepovers

the two of you have different dorms but he still comes into your room and stays the night

that’s IF he’s not in the studio

“i brought you food,” you announce as you go inside the room he’s been cooped up in for the past five hours.

“i already ate-“

“when?” you huff, setting the food on the table behind him, “in the morning? it’s five pm.”

he makes a face, “i was thinking of doing a diet-“

“for what?” you cross your arms.

he stares at you before looking at the food.”i can start tomorrow-“

“or never.” you take out the food and assort it over the table, “come on, let’s eat.”

jaehyun makes a small noise of complaint before getting out of his chair and coming over to you. he sits next to you and patiently waits as you take out the utensils from their packaging. there’s an innocent look on his face, one you recognize very well the second you look at him. he tilts his head and smiles.

“fine, i’ll feed you,” you sigh as you pick up meat from his bowl and guide it to his mouth.

you can’t help but attack him with kisses while he munches down his food. he gives you cuteness aggression so bad, especially when he does his little dance when taking the first bite of food.

both of you work out so good because both your love languages include kisses

when he gets really excited or happy around you he does the same thing he does to the group— pauses and admires you

you catch him looking at you a lot more often than him catching you

he loves it when you pull him by the waist

AND IF YOU KISS HIM ONCE HE’S AGAINST YOU? he’s get all gushy

super sassy with you

doesn’t really like it when you worry over him but he gives you REASONS

normally that’s a cause for arguments but you genuinely show him you just want to care for him the way he cares for everyone

your big baby, always getting all soft and mushy and ends up crying if you two randomly get into a deep talk

literally bby girl

your bby girl

[heliads]

you're going to have to shut this down - steve rogers

You grew up with Steve Rogers in the 1940s and froze with him until the present day, too. When he leaves you after killing Thanos to return to the '40s, it's the biggest betrayal of your life. If there was a way to ever see him again, it would require the crossing of many timelines, something you'd know nothing about. The TVA might, though.

masterlist

a/n: back from the dead! who would have thought (not me). who can say how long. enjoy xoxo

You join the TVA because you have nothing else to do. It’s not a bad gig, all things considered. It makes about as much sense as life normally does for you, which is to say, not at all. You’re getting better about understanding the splashier technology, the speedier cars, the altered accents. Not everything is going to seem like it’s fresh out of the 1940s, because only you are. It’s been several years since they got you out of the ice. By all accounts, you should have settled in a long time ago.

And you have, honestly. You did a good job of learning fast and moving on. Still, all it takes is one odd word of slang you don’t understand or a reference to a world-altering event that you never heard of to shove you two steps back instead of forward. You never expected it to be easy, trying to live in the new century. You just didn’t think you’d have to do it alone, either.

The Avengers helped. Despite the infighting and the many false retirements and the deaths, that job helped put you together more than anything else. Everyone was strange there, so no one was. Even the person out of time. 

Maybe that’s why the TVA reached out after it was all over– they knew you needed a fresh start. A new team, too, one that didn’t really care about your understanding of any one particular timeline. It was the perfect fit. Why not risk your life for someone else all over again?

It had made sense at the time. After Thanos was defeated, you’d lost your purpose. The Avengers didn’t technically disband, but enough of the original core had been lost to death and retirement and better things. You could sense a new generation rising up to take the mantle, and, not wanting to go through the same cycle of learning new faces just to lose them again, you stepped aside.

Retirement wasn’t good for you. All that time on your own left you twitchy, waiting for something to do, someone to see. You suppose it wouldn’t have been a problem at all if it weren’t for one specific absence, but that’s just the way it goes sometimes. Maybe you should have learned a long time ago to never bet your happiness on Steve Rogers, because when he left, you felt like you’d lost everything.

Even after all this time, you still can’t fathom why he did it, why he left you behind. You had grown up in the 1940s by his side, next door neighbors and family friends. Your parents knew his, and died around the same time his did, too. You’d been inseparable for as long as you could remember. You thought it was the worst pain in your life when he and Bucky went to war, so you followed, taking on a position as a medic in their regiment.

Steve had been absolutely furious that you’d put yourself into harm’s way like that, but you didn’t care. Everything was good so long as you were still together, and for a while, it was. Sure, it took you a while to remember how to act normally after he underwent his Captain America transformation, but he was still Steve, your Steve. And that was okay.

You were almost starting to believe in fantasies that you’d be able to make it back to Brooklyn one day, and then the cards stopped falling in your favor. First, you were sent to hunt down Zola, which was doomed from the start. You’d lost Bucky from the side of the train, which was the beginning of the end. Steve was spiraling and you knew it. It should have come as no surprise that he’d plunge himself into whatever danger he could find to try and keep his mind off the loss. It should have come as no surprise that you’d go with him.

However, neither of you expected to find yourselves on a plane headed into the ocean. It felt fitting somehow, dying with Steve. Bucky was gone anyway. You might as well join him. It was cold enough that you didn’t feel the water entering your lungs. You knew Steve’s hand was in yours even after you lost the sensation in your fingers. You felt him with you even after you closed your eyes for the final time.

Only, it wasn’t the final time. You woke up after what seemed like a matter of hours and ended up being several decades. The new century was full of trouble, but you and Steve were determined to run headfirst into it. You can still remember listening to the new music with him, quizzing each other on current events, doing everything under the sun together in the name of embracing modernity.

Even if it felt wrong to be so suddenly transplanted out of your normal world and into this bright, fast-paced future, some part of you was glad for it. You’ve had a secret crush on Steve since you were ten years old and starry-eyed for the boy next door. What did you lose by leaving the 1940s, anyway– sickness, the war, significantly worse water quality? Steve needed you here more than he ever needed you there. There was so much more in this modern world that would bring the two of you together, and you were delighted for it.

You were delighted, that is. You had assumed that Steve was, too. He certainly seemed like it, always down to visit a new museum or take a trip out of the city. He’d been happy with you. You were certain about it.

Yet, years after you first woke up together in a strange new world, he traveled back in time to return the Infinity Stones and came back as an old man who had already lived his life back in the 1940s. You weren’t there when it happened. Steve had actually sent you away, back to New York, so you could monitor the sites where the transfer of the Stones would take place to see if anything went wrong in the future. You’ll always wonder if he did that on purpose, to make sure you didn’t come with him, or if he really was worried about something as mundane as the Stones after all.

In the end, you’ll never know. Steve never told you about his plan to go back. You’re certain that Bucky was aware of it, even if he denies it. You saw the look on his face when Bucky returned from the job alone and told you that Steve had made his choice. He wasn’t surprised or shocked like you. He was sad, but accepting, because he already knew.

It was the worst betrayal of your life. You told Steve everything except the fact that you love him, and he left without telling you a single goodbye. Somehow, somewhere along the line you had walked together all your lives, Steve decided that he would rather live and die in the past without you than face the future you’d been building since they took you out of the ice. You’ve tried to remember moments in which he wasn’t happy, when you could have seen the signs and known that Steve was going to leave, but you can’t. Steve never seemed to have a problem with the modern world until he left it. It makes no sense, and so the awful mystery consumes you whole.

It would be one thing to retire from the Avengers with Steve by your side, just like always. Now, though, you’re losing not just your main activity but the last vestige of your heart. Bucky is your friend, close to family, but he’s not Steve and never will be. You’ve tried to spend time with him, but every time you see Bucky, you’re haunted by a third presence that should be there yet isn’t. You haven’t talked in a while. It’s probably better that way, anyway.

Luckily, you weren’t left to your own devices forever. One lonely morning, an orange panel of light opened up in front of you, and out of it stepped Loki, who, according to Thor, should have died when Thanos visited. He’d explained briefly how he was still alive, but focused more on offering you a chance to work with the TVA. Without anything better to do but sit around and mope, you’d agreed.

You and Loki have gotten along well for the most part, surprisingly enough. Barring the part where he’d tried to invade New York, you’ve come in contact with him through Thor several times and gotten along through a shared sarcastic sense of humor and biting wit. You’re probably one of the Avengers Loki tolerates the most, a title you bear with no small semblance of pride. Loki had needed someone to advise him on a variant, and he’d gone to you.

It’s a good job for someone out of time. The timelines all converge and diverge in mysterious ways, so who could truly say what’s current or out-of-date? You help Loki and the other TVA officers in maintaining the timeline. Slowly, you settle in, and you stop thinking about going back to your usual timeline. Why bother, anyway? There’s nothing left for you there. Bucky has moved on. Steve is gone. Your family passed on decades ago, and your friends in the Avengers are dead or busy. It’s not a place for you anymore.

Honestly, it’s decent work, all things considered, until you hear about an errant variant totally destroying not just his universe but every one to cross his path. Loki comes bursting into the main office, which isn’t exactly an uncommon occurrence, but the look in his eyes certainly isn’t. Apparently, there’s some guy who left his universe and started jumping around in many others. He’d stayed in his first place for many years, but made so many major changes that the timeline was all but destroyed. Once this variant took note of the fires he couldn’t put out, he started jumping into other places, doing the same thing in less time.

He’s someone who’ll have to be stopped, to say the least. It’s certainly a cause for concern, but that doesn’t explain the cagey expression on Loki’s face. There’s something he isn’t telling you, to be sure, something big. Something that might make you rethink this assignment entirely.

“Loki,” you say slowly, once the god of mischief has calmed down enough to go from frenetic pacing to merely glaring at the small hologram of Miss Minutes across the room, “What’s really going on here? Who exactly is this variant?”

Loki hesitates, and you know what he’s going to say before he even opens his mouth. This variant isn’t just anyone, is it? No, of course not. That would be too easy, and if you’ve learned anything in your voyages across the timelines, it’s that nothing in any universe is ever easy.

The variant destroying the worlds– it’s Steve. And it’s your Steve specifically, the one who’d decided to leave you to go back in time. It’s the precise version of Steve Rogers from your universe who had abandoned all you’d built to go back and live to old age in the 1940s.

You suck in a harsh breath. “That’s impossible. Steve would never do a thing like that. He saves the universe, he doesn’t destroy it.”

Loki laughs bitterly. “Think again, Y/N. It’s him.”

You shake your head unthinkingly, but as little as you want to even contemplate the idea, you can’t deny that it might be likely. Steve already upset the laws of the multiverse when he went to live his life in the 1940s. Who’s to say what else he might do?

You stand up and join Loki in his pacing. “Don’t go through the usual steps. Bring him here.”

Loki starts to protest, but you silence him with a glance. “Think of it as a favor. You owe me, you know that. I won’t kill him, not yet. Not until I know what’s going on.”

One desk over, Mobius holds up his hands. “Wait, wait. Maybe this Steve is a friend of yours, but he’s still a dangerous variant who is quite literally destroying the fabric of time with every jump he makes. Are you sure that bringing him into the TVA is the best idea?”

You lift a shoulder. “Do you have any other ideas of where to put him?”

Mobius sighs. “No, but I don’t like this.”

“You don’t have to like this,” you tell him, “but I need to talk to Steve. Please.”

You look over at Loki hopefully, and feel a crush of relief when you see him caving. “Fine, but the second Rogers tries anything, we’re all over him. We can’t risk the multiverse for one melodramatic walking flag.”

You chuckle in spite of yourself. It’s not a happy sound. “Just let me see what I can do.”

You have no idea what you’ll do with your errant Steve once he gets here. Before that, though, you’re going to have to solve the problem of bringing him here in the first place. If what Loki says is true, Steve is not going to come quietly.

You’re still having trouble wrapping your mind around the whole concept. Steve– your Steve– destroying timelines? Rampaging through the multiverse? It doesn’t even compute in your mind. After all you’ve seen of him, through every decade, in every incarnation, every uniform, he has still been himself at the core. Even when he just came out of the ice. Even when he lost Bucky after Thanos’ snap. Even when you lost the biggest battle of your lives.

Something must have happened to him when he was going back in time, that’s all you can imagine. It’s certainly a better thing to tell yourself, it makes you believe that there was a reason outside his control that he would have left you in the dust. Yes, this must be the fault of traveling through time, and not the simple fact that Steve didn’t want you anymore.

You suit up with the rest, ready to head out and collect your errant Captain. You deliberate over the helmet when Mobius advises you to hide your face in any way possible. He’s had many bad dealings with variants over the years, he claims. No one knows what Steve would do if he saw you.

Face obscured, you walk through a Timedoor to the latest universe Steve has attempted to conquer. It doesn’t take long to find a disturbance; you’ve hardly stepped through the orange portal before you’re greeted with the sound of screaming, the smell of smoke. Buildings are burning. It’s like the world is on fire, and all you can think about is that somehow, Steve caused this.

“We have to move fast,” Mobius urges. “The timeline is unraveling by the second. Find the variant and drag him through a Timedoor as fast as you can.”

You nod your assent and start moving. The easiest thing to do is to head towards the center of the chaos, and so you do, the other TVA agents not far behind you. The smoke gets thicker, all culminating around one building in the center of the city. With a chill, you realize it’s what should be the old Avengers complex, but the letters on the outside still read Stark Tower. This universe might not have gotten the chance to ever get its Avengers, so there is no one to fight off a corrupted Rogers except the TVA, too little and too late.

“I see him,” Loki shouts suddenly, pointing towards a figure moving through the rubble. “Amazing, his hair shines even in a bonfire.”

You don’t have it in you to laugh, but surge forward recklessly. You have to see, you have to know, is it him? Could it be? As you draw closer, you’re certain that you see him, that Steve is here after all this time. A lump rises in your throat utterly unrelated to the pollutants clogging the air. You’ve missed him for so long, and now he’s right in front of you.

Mobius flings out an arm, stopping you short. “Wait,” he says. “He’s a variant, Y/N. Remember that.”

You come thundering back to reality at his words. When you look again, Steve isn’t standing there harmlessly, but holding an unconscious figure in his arms, the head thudding lifelessly against his bicep. This is the real Steve right now, someone you could never recognize.

Two of the TVA agents hurry forward, attempting to cuff him, but Steve brushes them aside easily, even after Loki and Mobius try to enter the fray. Suddenly, the situation looks like you’ll lose it for good, until a wild, terrible idea occurs to you and you shout out to him, “Steve!”

Instantly, Steve’s whole body goes rigid, and he starts scanning the area frantically. “Y/N?” He calls out.

He sounds like a madman, that’s the first thought that rises to your mind. His eyes are wide, his syllables unsettled. You rip off your helmet and Steve turns to you as if he’s seen a ghost.

“Y/N?” He repeats again, this time far more quietly, the words all but disappearing on the smoke-burnt wind.

Steve starts to reach out a grimy hand to you, but one of the TVA agents surges up behind him, jamming a syringe in his neck and knocking him out cold. Cuffs are tightened around his wrists moments later, and Mobius conjures up the requisite Timedoor straight to a holding cell back in the TVA. Everyone starts filing away, but takes you a few more moments to gather yourself together long enough to follow them.

Once back in the halls of the TVA, lights buzzing cheerfully overhead, Loki turns to you at last. “The move with the helmet was risky,” he chastises.

You can’t focus on the rebuke. “He knew me,” you whisper. “He knew me, and he stopped fighting.”

Loki’s lips thin. “That’s not Steve,” he says. “Not the one you know, at least.”

You steal a glance towards the locked door of the cell anyway. “I have to talk to him.”

Loki’s expression shifts from frustrated to simply tired. “I know.”

Still, you’re not blind to the wishes of the TVA, and you let Mobius go in to talk to Steve first. You decide it’s probably best if you’re not the first face he sees, and if you’re not going, Loki would be an even worse choice, so it’s Mobius alone in there with a few guards for security. He barely makes it ten minutes before he comes storming out again, though, obviously frustrated.

You could hear shouting outside the cell and down the hall, but still, you’re curious enough to ask Mobius, “What happened in there?”

Mobius drags an irritated hand through his hair. “Your little hero isn’t really the talking type.”

You frown. “That’s unlike him.”

“All of this is unlike him,” Loki intercedes. “You really couldn’t get through to him, Mobius? That’s startling. Surely there’s some sort of homegrown charm you could pull on him to twist his mind in your favor.”

“That’s just called manners,” Mobius frowns, “but no, I tried. He refuses to talk to anyone but Y/N.”

Loki swings around to stare at you curiously. “Fascinating. He left you and now he won’t even indulge in a friendly conversation with the authorities. What sort of Captain Rogers is this?”

You roll your eyes to hide your growing discomfort. “Forget that. Are we going to give in so fast? Don’t tell me you’re the type to give up on interrogating a suspect after less than half an hour.”

Mobius shrugs. “We might as well let you in. Might learn something, he doesn’t seem inclined to give us anything else otherwise. Why waste more time?”

You might argue a little harder were it not for the fact that you’ve been dying to see Steve since he got here. Before that, really. You’ve been wanting to talk to him since he left you in the first place. Maybe it’s not the best strategy for dealing with a variant, but in your heart, he’s still Steve, and always will be.

Steve’s head is down when you enter the cell, but it flies up the second you take a seat opposite him. He’s sitting down, hands cuffed behind him, but you have no doubt that he could free himself in a heartbeat if he tried.

Still, he isn’t trying. He’s just looking at you, eyes wide, mouth a little agape, as if he really can’t believe it’s you even after demanding to meet. “Y/N?” He asks quietly.

You nod. “Steve.”

Your voice seems harsh in the hollow stillness of the TVA cell. Steve doesn’t flinch, but he might as well; his eyes gain a thin veneer of hurt you’ve known since the forties. 

“You’re not my Y/N, though,” he decides. “You know, I never really believed in the whole multiverse thing. Strange tried to explain it to me after Thanos, but I just thought it was a bunch of crap. No way there were a million versions of us. But I’ve met enough of you and me to know otherwise now.”

Your heart feels heavy in your chest. “You’re referring to all of the universes you hijacked.”

“Hijacked,” Steve muses. “That’s a strong word.”

You fold your arms across your chest. “You entered universes that were not your own and caused chains of events that led to destruction of that world, every single time.”

It horrified you, looking at the footage. Every single universe was the same:  heroes gone or killed, skies full of smoke, thousands of dead. Everywhere Steve went, chaos followed him. It felt impossible, but it was true. Shockingly, awfully, it was true.

Steve’s eyes go dark. “That wasn’t my intention.”

“But it still happened,” you point out. “And you saw it happen but you kept going in more universes anyway. Why? Why didn’t you stop?”

Anger sparks in Steve like a match to gasoline. “I wasn’t trying to tear the universes apart, I was just trying to go back home,” he spits. “I couldn’t find the way back. I didn’t realize how delicate the multiverse was. Maybe that means you guys are bad at your job if a few detours can send the whole thing spiraling.”

The jab doesn’t even land, you’re too distracted by what he said before it. “You– you were trying to go back? Back where?”

A thundercloud of emotion passes over Steve’s face. “Back to the present,” he says softly.

He looks like he wants to keep talking, but he glances sharply back at you again and cuts himself off. “What does it matter to you, anyway? You’re just another version of you. What universe are you from, anyway? One where you leave instead of me?”

“I wouldn’t be too sure of that,” you whisper. “You have no idea who I am, Steve.”

He laughs bitterly and shakes his head. “No. No, I know you’re not my Y/N. My Y/N never would have agreed to go in the same room as me.” 

He straightens up suddenly. “Say– you’ve seen all the endings of the timeline, right? Is there any– are there any universes where you forgive me? Where I’m able to go back?”

Your breath feels faint in your chest. “You want to know if you ever go back to the present?”

He nods. “Surely I could do it at least once. Don’t tell me it never happens. And if I do, don’t say you hate me for leaving.”

His face, suddenly pleading, makes you almost sick to your stomach. “I don’t know,” you whisper. “I never looked. I was too afraid that you would have left me for nothing.”

Steve draws back suddenly, looking at you with a fresh wave of curiosity. “You mean– Y/N. You’re the one I left? How did you get here?”

You nod. “I was lonely after you disappeared. I needed something to do. But Steve– I thought you would stay in the forties. Why would you ever go in the first place if you were just going to leave again?”

Steve looks stricken. “I thought I would like it better back then. I wanted to go home, but Y/N, I was wrong. The forties weren't home, you were. I realized it after a few months. Nothing felt right without you. I tried to go to our present day again, but it had been too long since I jumped and I couldn’t figure it out. I tried finding Strange, but of course he hadn’t been born yet, and I was sent into another universe instead of ours.”

You shake your head slowly. “I don’t understand. If you were trying to get back, why destroy all those universes?”

“I wasn’t trying to destroy them,” Steve says lowly, “I was trying to get you back. Only– you’re pivotal to all of this, and you don’t even get it. If the Avengers formed without us, they wouldn’t make the decisions needed to stop the Chitauri, or save the world from Thanos, or anything.”

You comprehend it all at last. “You weren’t destroying the multiverse, you were meddling with the timeline. Of course. The TVA always insisted on the danger of even the smallest variant. I get it now.”

“I made a mistake by leaving, Y/N,” Steve tells you. “I’m trying to make it right. Will you let me?”

And, looking at him in the low fluorescent lights of the TVA, you ask yourself if there’s still a place in your heart for the man you’ve known all your life. It’s been a long time since you saw him. It’ll be longer still before you forgive him for leaving in the first place. However, there’s not many people like you in this world or the next. You have Steve back at last. How could anyone not take a chance like that?

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[kikyoupdates]

Otherworldly Attraction ⭑˚🔮⭑ 𝑚𝑜𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑛

yandere!jjk x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, isekai, jujutsu kaisen x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere

You don't know how or why, but you've been isekai'd into the world of Jujutsu Kaisen. Although your first instinct is to stay away from the plot, you've been blessed with an abnormal amount of cursed energy, and for better or worse, you find yourself sucked into the storyline. You decide that you may as well use your newfound powers for the greater good, and if you're lucky, you might succeed in rewriting some of the characters' fates. But it turns out that your presence in this world is an even bigger deal than you first thought, and soon, everyone wants to make you theirs.

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“Hehe.”   

You stare down at your brand-new selfie—taken with none other than Gojo Satoru . He’s smiling and posing while making peace signs with his fingers, and on your end, you’ve got a stupidly wide grin on your face, looking like you’ve just won the lottery. Which, in all fairness, you kind of did .   

“There you go,” Gojo hums, then he stops to cross his arms for a moment. “But why the selfie request all of a sudden? I’ll admit, I’m pretty popular in the world of jujutsu sorcerers, but you shouldn’t know about any of that.”   

“I don’t,” you nod. “I just think you’re really hot—I mean, really cool. Y-Yeah. You just seem really cool.”   

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Fushiguro staring at you in disgust.   

Goddammit. That dude must have an absolutely terrible impression of you so far.   

“Very true,” Gojo grins, swiping his hair back like some kind of L’Oréal shampoo model. “I am pretty cool, if I do say so myself.”   

Fushiguro looks even more disgusted now.   

Gojo claps his hands together. “Anyways! Time to head out. Take one last moment to make sure you’re not forgetting anything, because once we’re there, well… I can’t guarantee when you’ll be able to come back.”   

It’s a good thing your parents aren’t actual parents, because it’s safe to say that there’s no longer anything tying you to this place. Of course, you’re terrified of what the future may hold, but you made the decision to be brave, and to try to help people in the process. If you play your cards right, maybe lives can be spared. Maybe not everyone has to die.   

So, yeah. You’re ready to leave. You’re ready to start this new chapter.   

And you also now have a selfie with Gojo Satoru. So far, life is pretty good.   

The trip to Tokyo takes a couple hours by train, but fortunately, you’ve got Itadori to keep you company the whole time. You try to engage Fushiguro in conversation as well, but he mostly keeps to himself and just stares out the window without saying anything. It doesn’t help that he’s clearly suspicious of you, but whatever. Not much you can do about it right now.   

Some time passes, and eventually, you reach your destination. Fushiguro separates from the group and goes off on his own to receive treatment for his injuries, so you’re left behind with Gojo and Itadori as you venture further into the mountains. 

“I can’t believe this is really Tokyo,” Itadori marvels.  

“Even Tokyo’s like this on the outskirts,” Gojo brushes off. “More importantly, Yuji, you’ve got an interview with the principal right away. If you mess up, you might get rejected, so do your best, okay? No pressure.”   

“Huh? Does that mean I’ll get executed right away?!”   

“What a disappointment. So, you’re not even the leader?”   

A familiar voice. You freeze up at the sound of it, unsurprised to find Sukuna’s mouth on the side of Itadori’s cheek. A partial manifestation, or whatever the hell you might call that. Either way, it gives you the creeps.   

“A hierarchy not based purely on strength is boring, if you ask me,” Sukuna chuckles.   

Itadori slaps his palm over his cheek in a hurry to shut Sukuna up. “Sorry about that. He pops out sometimes. I can’t always help it.”  

Unfortunately, Sukuna refuses to disappear, and this time, he manifests on the back of Itadori’s hand instead.   

“You really did a number on me earlier. I’m letting you know right now. Once I make this boy’s body completely mine, you’ll be the first one I kill!”   

That stinky old bastard is just running his mouth (quite literally), so you’re not really fazed.   

At least, not until he turns his attention to you.  

“And you ,” Sukuna mutters. “The strange girl. You never answered my question before. What are you? What in the world is going on with your cursed energy? It’s bothersome. Hurry up and give me a straight answer, or you’ll regret it.”   

“Ugh, again ?” Itadori fumes, stomping his foot in frustration. “Go away, already! You’re so annoying! And leave [Name] alone!”   

Fortunately, Itadori manages to fully suppress him this time, putting an end to Sukuna’s incessant yapping. Dude is seriously in love with the sound of his own voice.   

Unfortunately, Gojo already heard everything he said loud and clear.   

“Sukuna appears to have a fixation on you,” Gojo remarks, pressing his hand to his chin. “Well, I guess it’s not really that surprising, considering the ridiculous amount of cursed energy you’re constantly emitting. It’s obvious that you’re not a sorcerer because you don’t seem to know how to control it, but in terms of sheer capacity, it far surpasses that of an ordinary human.”   

“N-Neat,” you reply stupidly.   

Gojo stares at you for a few moments, then throws his head back and starts laughing.   

“Haha! Sure, I guess you could call it that. Being strong is pretty neat, without a doubt. I was going to say how honored I am to be the target of Ryomen Sukuna, but it looks like he’s even more interested in you, so you’ve got me beat in that regard.”   

“I’m not honored at all. I want nothing to do with that nasty guy.”   

Gojo laughs again. “Yeah, I bet. I can only imagine how confused you must be right now. Not to mention freaked out.”   

“So, is Sukuna really that famous?” Itadori asks.   

“Yes,” Gojo nods. “Ryomen Sukuna. He’s a demon of lore with four arms and two faces. But the truth is that he was actually a human who existed, although it was well over a thousand years ago. In the golden age of jujutsu, sorcerers gathered up all their might to challenge him, but ultimately, they failed to defeat him entirely. Crowned with the title of Sukuna, we couldn’t even destroy his grave wax, and he thus traversed the ages after his death as a cursed object. Without a doubt, he is the King of Curses.”   

“So, who’s stronger, you or him?”   

“Hm. Well, if Sukuna were to regain all his power, then it’d probably be pretty draining.”   

“Would you lose?”   

Gojo slows his steps for a moment, then tilts his head towards both of you, a cocky grin plastered across his lips.   

“Nah,” he chuckles. “I’d win.”   

Oh my god. I really got to see him deliver that iconic line. And he looked hot as hell while doing it.   

You stare at him with hearts in your eyes, already in full fangirl mode (which is pretty much your default mode, to be fair), but Gojo beckons the two of you onwards before you can get lost in your thoughts.   

He leads you inside one of the buildings, where you’re greeted by a familiar face.   

“You’re late, Satoru. Eight minutes late. Not quite enough to chastise you for, but I thought I told you to fix that bad habit of yours.”  

It’s the principal, of course—Yaga Masamichi. He’s currently in the middle of crafting a new puppet, and he’s also got more than a handful of them already surrounding him. At first glance, they’re adorable, but you know that their appearance is awfully deceptive, and they’re a lot stronger than they look.   

Poor Itadori’s about to get bitch-slapped by one of those puppets soon.   

“That old dude’s randomly making really cute stuff,” Itadori whispers in your ear.   

“If it’s not enough for you to get mad about, then cut me some slack, will ya?” Gojo sighs. “I figured you’d just be making your dolls anyway. Eight minutes is no big deal.”   

Principal Yaga gestures towards Itadori. “That’s him, right? Sukuna’s vessel. And the girl beside him… must be the other student you mentioned. The one with the abnormal amount of cursed energy.”   

“My name is Itadori Yuji!” your friend introduces, bowing his head in a hurry. “I like girls like Jennifer Lawrence! It’s nice to meet you!”   

Shit. Is it my turn now?   

“I-I’m [Last Name] [Name],” you say, bowing as well. “And I like, um… I guess I like cool guys. Like Gojo. And funny guys, like Ryan Reynolds. I also think Timothée Chalamet is pretty cute—”   

“Stop, stop.” Principal Yaga presses a palm to his forehead and exhales loudly. “I never asked either of you to start listing your personal preferences. Cut it out, already. And why was Satoru’s name randomly thrown in there?”   

“I can’t help that I’m extremely cool,” Gojo shrugs.   

“Satoru, that’s enough out of you. More importantly, why did you come here?” Principal Yaga asks, now addressing Itadori.   

Itadori looks confused, of course. “Uh… I came here for an interview. I’m pretty sure.”   

“But why Jujutsu High?”   

“To learn… jujutsu? And stuff?”   

“I mean beyond that. What do you hope to find once you’ve studied curses and learned how to exorcize them?”   

This time, Itadori glances towards you, almost as if he’s seeking some kind of guidance. “Beyond that…? Well, I mean, I’m gonna collect all of Sukuna’s remaining fingers. It’s dangerous to just leave them as is.”   

“But why ?” Principal Yaga presses.   

Gojo chuckles and taps you on the shoulder. “This is probably going to go on for a little while. Come. Let’s go wait over there. The principal likes to ramble every now and then.”   

You offer Itadori an encouraging smile. You obviously know what comes next, but that also means that you have full confidence in him. You know that he’ll pass Principal Yaga’s test and get accepted into Jujutsu High. It doesn’t seem you’ll be put through any interviews yourself… probably because you’re not Sukuna’s vessel, but you expect that most people are probably going to be pretty wary of you anyway. Since you’re an anomaly and all that. And since Sukuna couldn’t keep his stupid mouth shut.   

So, you watch. You watch as Itadori gets smacked around by one of Principal Yaga’s puppets, all the while having to answer the questions he keeps throwing at him nonstop. It’s definitely not fun to have to see your friend get beat up, but again, thanks to the knowledge you have of this world, you’re not worried. And it’s certainly not like anyone’s life is at risk right now.   

That won’t always be the case, though.   

“You pass,” Principal Yaga eventually states, and he cracks a small smile, even offering Itadori his hand so that he can stand up.   

Itadori smiles back at him. “Thank you. It’s nice to properly meet—”   

He promptly gets pummeled by the puppet again.   

“Oops,” Principal Yaga mumbles. “Sorry. I forgot to stop the incantation.”  

“Looks like everything went well,” Gojo muses. He peers down at you curiously. “But I have to admit, I’m a bit surprised. You didn’t look concerned at all. Weren’t you worried that he’d fail? In which case that would mean that his execution date would be pushed up.”  

You shake your head. “I believe in Itadori. I knew he’d be able to pull it off. And… I believe in you too, sensei. You said you’re the one that convinced the higher-ups in the first place, right? I can tell that you’ll protect Itadori. You wouldn’t let him be executed. I trust you completely.”  

You grin ear-to-ear, and even though you can’t see it, Gojo’s eyes briefly widen, underneath his black blindfold. Of course, it’s not the first time people have relied on him. Being the strongest jujutsu sorcerer there is, it comes with the territory. But it’s strange that you’re already willing to put your full faith in him, despite not knowing anything of this new realm you’ve just ventured into.   

Admittedly, it’s rather endearing.  

“You’re exactly right,” Gojo chuckles, reaching out to gently pat your head. “Leave it all to me. I don’t intend to let any of my students get hurt on my watch. It’ll probably all seem overwhelming at first, but you won’t be alone. I promise.”   

Gojo Satoru is patting my head! %$%^*@^$!*!  

Your brain short-circuits for a few moments, and you briefly think that, honestly, you could probably die happy right now.   

Itadori approaches you while you’re still stuck in fangirl mode, and fortunately, you snap out of it in time to congratulate him for passing the principal’s test. Meanwhile, Gojo and Principal Yaga step off to the side.   

“The boy is one thing, but the girl, [Name],” Principal Yaga frowns. “I’ve never come across cursed energy like hers before. And you say that Sukuna himself expressed interest in her?”   

Gojo nods. “It’s even weirder than no one’s noticed her before. With that kind of energy, you would think she’d have stood out a long time ago. But she clearly hasn’t been trained in the ways of jujutsu. It’s almost like she sprung up one day, completely out of nowhere. But surely that kind of cursed energy can’t just randomly appear on the spot. It would make sense if she’d been born with this kind of power and had cultivated it over the years. Do you think it’s possible one of the great clans have been hiding her all this time?”  

“I suppose we can’t rule it out, but it wouldn’t make any sense. If that were the case, she would surely have been trained from a young age.”  

“Well, we’ll just have to look into it, I guess. It’s fine. Better to have her nearby so we can keep an eye on her. I knew from the moment I saw her that I couldn’t just let her go.”   

Gojo stares at you from afar, watching as you and Itadori happily converse. The two of you are so carefree and innocent. You have yet to be exposed to the horrors that the world of jujutsu has to offer. He knows he won’t be able to spare either of you from the bitter reality of things, but all the same, he’s going to fight for your futures.  

After a brief pause, Gojo smiles, then claps his hand together.   

“Alright! With that out of the way, let me show you guys to your dorms.”

“Perfect!” Itadori grins, stepping back to admire his handiwork. Namely, the giant poster of Jennifer Lawrence he just put up on the wall. “Man, these dorms are huge, huh? I wasn’t expecting us to have so much space!”   

“They’re nice,” you agree. “My new dorm is even bigger than my bedroom.”   

Both in this world, and back in the real world.   

“I’m just relieved I was able to make it through the principal’s interview. I wasn’t expecting those dolls of his to come to life! That was pretty crazy, huh?”   

“Y-Yeah. Who could’ve seen that one coming…?”   

“Anyways, Gojo was saying they’re gonna need me to help locate the rest of Sukuna’s fingers,” Itadori continues, adjusting the poster slightly. “‘Cause I’m not just a vessel, but some kind of radar, too. Honestly, I don’t get what’s happening with my body, but I guess there’s not much I can do about it at this point. I really don’t think Sukuna’s gonna cooperate, though. I doubt we’ll be able to come to an agreement that easily.”   

“I’m sure he wants to find the rest of his fingers, because he’s trying to regain his full strength. There’s no way he’d miss out on an opportunity to become more powerful. But… yeah. Be careful,” you nod gravely. “He definitely can’t be trusted.”   

“Why’s he so obsessed with you, anyway? Everyone keeps going on about how you have a whole bunch of cursed energy. Have you always been able to see curses and stuff?”   

“Uh…”   

You’re not sure how to respond. Technically, yes , as in, you’ve been able to see them from the moment you materialized in this world, but you’ve only been here for a solid few weeks. Perhaps you’re better off being honest this time.   

“Only recently,” you admit. “I think I started being able to see them roughly a few weeks ago. I noticed them right about when I transferred into our old high school. There were a couple of small curses hanging around and clinging to people from time to time. But I thought I was going crazy, so I didn’t mention it to anyone.”  

“Damn. That must have been scary. Oh,” he realizes. “Is that why you said you weren’t interested in joining the Occult Club? Because of all the weird stuff you kept seeing?”   

“Um, pretty much. I wasn’t sure whether or not it was all in my head, but I kind of wanted to keep my distance, just to be on the safe side. Sorry. I would’ve been upfront from the start, but… obviously, it’s a bit hard to believe. Especially since you weren’t able to see the curses with your own eyes.”   

Itadori smiles. “You don’t have to apologize. I get that you must have had a lot on your mind, and you’re right that it’d be a pretty difficult topic to bring up. Anyways, don’t worry! I’ll keep Sukuna away from you. It sounds like things are gonna get pretty complicated, but I’m gonna collect all those fingers so that no one else has to get hurt. Including you.”   

“Are you saying you’ll protect me?” you chuckle.   

“Of course! If you ever get scared, don’t hesitate to use me as a shield!”   

Itadori proudly flexes his bicep, and you giggle in response. You have no doubts that he’ll be looking after you along the way, because that’s just the kind of guy he is, but hopefully… you’ll be able to protect him too. You’d like to make his painful life at least a little bit easier.   

“By the way, you asked Gojo for a selfie earlier. I didn’t realize you liked him that much. I guess he is pretty cool, objectively speaking.” Itadori scrunches up his brows. “Is he the kind of guy girls are usually into?”   

“I think it depends. Girls like all kinds of guys. Especially strong, caring guys like you,” you grin.   

You were just being honest and trying to hype him up a bit. Itadori’s a friendly, extroverted guy, after all. You don’t even remember him ever looking embarrassed when you first watched the anime.  

Which is why you’re surprised to see him blushing.  

“R-Really?” he chuckles awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “I feel like you’re just saying that. But thanks! I appreciate it. While we’re on the topic, I bet most guys would have a crush on you , [Name]! Because you’re so pretty and nice!”   

If there was water in your mouth, you would have probably spat it out right about now.   

You start melting into a little puddle of embarrassment, but thankfully, Fushiguro steps into the room and saves you from some of the humiliation.  

“You guys are so loud,” he grumbles. “And seriously, why’d they put you next door to me? There are a bunch of empty rooms to choose from.”   

“Oh, hey, Fushiguro!” Itadori waves. “Glad to see you look better now. Also, Gojo was saying it’d be more lively and fun if all our dorms were close by.”   

“Classes and missions are more than enough,” Fushiguro mutters, rolling his eyes in annoyance. He stops just in front of you, and of course, that crease in between his brows deepens.  

You strain a smile. “Um… yes? Is there something you wanted to say to me?”   

“Not really. You’re just kind of confusing, if I’m being honest. And you’re weirdly obsessed with Gojo.”   

“Only because he’s hot,” you protest. “I mean—dammit! Because he’s cool ! I like him because he’s cool, okay?!”   

Fushiguro makes no effort to hide his disapproval, and you let out a heavy sigh, eventually hanging your head in defeat. It’s no surprise he doesn’t trust you yet. Your circumstances are far from ordinary, and you even told Itadori outright to eat Sukuna’s finger. If you were in his position, you’d probably have your doubts too.  

Itadori taps both you and Fushiguro on the shoulders. “Hey, guys. [Name]’s selfie with Gojo earlier got me thinking. Now that we’re all gonna be classmates and dorm buddies, we should commemorate this with a photo or something. Right?”   

“I like that idea,” you smile.   

“I don’t ,” Fushiguro grimaces.  

“Okay, let’s all take a selfie together!” Itadori exclaims, and he proceeds to pull you and Fushiguro close—despite the latter’s protests—then he uses your phone to snap a picture of all three of you.   

Just like that, you have a new picture saved. Fushiguro is scowling irritably, of course, and your smile looks a little dorky because it all happened so spur-of-the-moment, but you decide that it’s good as it is. It makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.   

“I like this picture even more than the one I took with Gojo,” you beam. “I’m gonna make it my lock screen right now.”   

Fushiguro blinks. He wasn’t expecting such a bright, infectious smile. It’s just a selfie. Is it really worth making such a big deal over? He’s not sure why, but something about your expression makes it difficult for him to maintain his grumpy demeanor.   

Even though he doesn’t really want to admit it… you’re kind of cute.   

[azzibuckets]

Here are my thoughts on the players! It’s LONG!!! 1. Ice should not be starting. It is clear that she has trouble rebounding and finishing. Also, she’s not aggressive enough/willing to draw fouls from the other team. The amount of times I saw Aaliyah on the floor and at the free throw line last year was crazy. 2. Morgan should start 👀. I know she’s a freshman, but she isn’t afraid to get on the floor and be aggressive. Also, she seeks rebounds and is more hungry for it/acts like she wants to be out there. She brings the energy we need too. Plus, she can shoot 3s! 3. Kk should come off the bench earlier. USC set the pace the whole first and second quarter which was our downfall. If KK doesn’t show out then bench her but she can bring that energy we seem to lack in the first half a lot. Wouldn’t hate seeing her start for a game or two 👀 4. Not mad about Ash (she made that 3 when we needed it), but she tends to fade into the background when she’s not getting passes or good looks. Seeking her midrange shot will be so helpful for us in the future. I liked her defense tonight too, no fouls yay! Sometimes she fouls too much which isn’t great. 5. I love Paige but she is struggling (in her head more than last year) and it’s probably because Gene is not telling her what he expects like make up your mind old man! Also, she probably feels a lot of pressure to be that great leader for the team, which Geno could help with by, I don’t know, being a better coach. Lastly, Paige should have the ball in her hands more, because she’s really good at facilitating plays and it’s hard to do that when you have to work to get the ball first. I want to see Paige be more aggressive in the beginning of the game, because it’s like we are playing hot potato with the basket ball. 6. I want to see Allie come off the bench more too because we need more 3s. Both USC and ND out scored us in 3s. If she doesn’t hit her 3s then take her out, but she’s known as a shooter so let her try to shoot! 7. Kaitlyn is great. You can tell she has experience and makes good reads. I want her to take more 3s and just shoot more overall. We know she can do it. She should not be treated like the next “Nika” because she can make those shots and that skill needs to be utilized, especially when Paige and Sarah can draw defenders. 8. I LOVE SARAH!!! 9. I need Azzi to focus on getting healthy and then ball out! She can make a huge impact on the team and take some of that pressure off Paige. When she’s out there, she draws defenders opening up the parameter for 3s. Also, she’s good shutting down teams when they are on a run. I would like to see Azzi more vocal on the court like she is on the bench.

Geno needs to regroup with his lineups. And i love morgan’s hustle! she has foul trouble but still has loads of time and opportunities to clean up her defense

[navybrat817]

The urge to interact online while simultaneously not wanting to interact out of fear of being annoying or because you feel like you don't belong. 😂😭

[gingermintpepper]

As usual I read your tags always and so you said Apollo did not ask for resurrection of Asclepius and Hyacinthus so i just wanted to share this. About Asclepius death I read it on theoi.com, that earlier authors don't make him resurrect as a god but that's a later development mentioned only by Roman authors like Cicero, Hyginus and Ovid. But still Apollo has a role in Ovid's version

Ovid, Fasti 6. 735 ff (trans.Boyle) (Roman poetry C1st B.C. to C1st A.D.) : Clymenus [Haides] and Clotho resent the threads of life respun and death's royal rights diminished. Jove [Zeus] feared the precedent and aimed his thunderbolt at the man who employed excessive art. Phoebus [Apollon], you whined. He is a god; smile at your father, who, for your sake, undoes his prohibitions [i.e. when he obtains immortality for Asklepios].

So here it is actually because of Apollo the decision was taken to resurrect him as god. And with Hyacinthus, I don't think I've read about Artemis playing the primary role. I know in Sparta there was a picture of Artemis, Athena and Aphrodite carrying Hyacinthus and his sister to heaven.

This is not on theoi.com but I saw on Tumblr it's from Dionysiaca by Nonnus

Second, my lord Oiagros wove a winding lay, as the father of Orpheus who has the Muse his boon companion. Only a couple of verses he sang, a ditty of Phoibos, clearspoken in few words after some Amyclaian style: Apollo brought to life again his longhaired Hyacinthos: Staphylos will be made to live for aye by Dionysos.

So since he is singing inspired by amyclean stories it probably means in that place it was believed Apollo was the one to bring back his lover to life.

Apollo as god of order was very important so i think it shows how special these people (and admetus too) were to him that he decided to go against the order for them 🥺

ANON!! Shakes you like a bottle of ramune!! BELOVED ANON!!!!! I'm littering your face with kisses, I'm anointing you with olive oil and honey - you absolutely made my night with this because, not only did I get the pure serotonin shot of having someone interact with my tags (yippee, wahoo!!) I also got to have that wonderful feeling of "oh wow, have I misunderstood something that was integral to my understanding of this myth/figure this whole time or is this a case of interpretational differences?" which is imo vital for my aims and interests as someone who enjoys mythological content and literature.

I'll preface my response with this: Hyacinthus is by far the hardest of these to get accounts for because his revival itself, as you very astutely point out, is generally accounted for in painting/ritual format which muddies the waters on who interceded for what. I wasn't actually familiar with that passage from the Argonautica - and certainly didn't remember it so thank you very much for bringing it to my attention!

That said, what I've come to understand, both about Hyacinthus and about Asclepius is that in the accounts of their deaths, Apollo's position is startlingly clear.

For Hyacinthus, it is established time and again that Apollo would have sacrificed everything for him - his status, his power, his very own immortality and divinity. Ovid writes that Apollo would have installed him as a god if only he had the time:

(Ovid. Metamorphoses. Book X. trans. Johnston)

Many other writers too speak of how Apollo abandoned his lyre and his seat at Delphi to spend his days with Hyacinthus, but they also all agree that when it came to his death - he was powerless. Ovid gives that graphic account of Apollo's desperation as he tries all his healing arts to save him to no avail:

(Ovid, Metamorphoses Book X. Apollo me boy, methinks him dead. trans Johnston)

Bion, in one of his fragments, writes that Apollo was "dumb" upon seeing Hyacinthus' agony:

(Bion, The Bucolic Poets. Fragment XI. trans Edmonds)

Even Nonnus in the Dionysiaca speaks constantly of Apollo's helplessness in the face of Hyacinthus' fate where he writes that the god still shivers if a westward wind blows upon an iris:

and when Zephyros breathed through the flowery garden, Apollo turned a quick eye upon his young darling, his yearning never satisfied; if he saw the plant beaten by the breezes, he remembered the quoit, and trembled for fear the wind, so jealous once about the boy, might hate him even in a leaf...

(Nonnus, Dionysiaca, Book 3. trans Rouse)

And the point here is just that - Apollo, at least as far as I've read, cannot avert someone's death. He simply can't. Once they're already dead - once Fate has cut their string - all Apollo's power is gone and he can do nothing no matter how much he wants to. And this is, as far as I know, supported with the accounts of Asclepius as well!

Since you specifically brought up Ovid's account, I'll also stick only to Ovid's account but in Metamorphoses when we get Ovid's version of Coronis' demise, he writes that Apollo intensely and immediately regrets slaughtering Coronis. He regrets it so intensely that he, like he does with Hyacinthus, does his best to resuscitate her:

(Ovid, Metamorphoses Book Two. Apollo's regret)

And like Hyacinthus, when it becomes clear that what has happened cannot be undone, Apollo wails:

(Ovid, Metamorphoses Book Two. Apollo wept.)

Unlike his mother, Asclepius in her womb had not yet died and so, with the last of Apollo's strength, he does manage, at least, to save him.

(Ovid, Metamorphoses Book Two. Apollo puts the 'tearing out' in Asclepius.)

But it goes further than even that because Ocyrhoe, Chiron's daughter, a prophetess who unduly gained the ability to directly proclaim the secrets of the Fates, upon seeing the baby Asclepius, immediately prophesies his glory, his inevitable death and then his fated ascension:

(Ovid. Metamorphoses, Book Two. Ocyrhoe's prophecy. trans Johnston)

Before she too succumbs to her hubris and is transformed by the Fates into a horse so she can no longer speak secrets that aren't hers to share.

These things ultimately are important because it establishes two very important things: 1) Apollo can't do anything in the face of the ultimate Fate of mortals, which is, of course, death and 2) even when Apollo is Actively Devastated, regretful, yearning, mournful, guilty or some unholy combination of all of the above, when someone is dead, he accepts that they are gone. Even if he is devastated by it, even if he'll cry all the rest of his days about it - if they're dead? Apollo lets them go. In Fasti, when Zeus brings Asclepius back, he does not say Apollo asked him to - Zeus, or well, in this case Jove, brings Asclepius back because he wants Apollo to stop being mad at him.

(Ovid, Fasti VI. Apollo please come home your father misses you. trans. A.S Kline)

Even Boyle's translation which you used above in your findings hints that Zeus made Asclepius a god because he wanted Apollo to stop grieving. (i.e 'smile at your father', 'for your sake [he] undoes his prohibitions')

And like, Apollo was deeply upset by Asclepius' death - apart from killing the Cyclops in anger, in book 4 of the Argonautica, Apollonius writes that the Celts believe the stream of Eridanus to be the tears Apollo shed over the death of Asclepius when he left for Hyperborea after being chastised by Zeus for killing his Cyclops:

But the Celts have attached this story to them, that these are the tears of Leto's son, Apollo, that are borne along by the eddies, the countless tears that he shed aforetime when he came to the sacred race of the Hyperboreans and left shining heaven at the chiding of his father, being in wrath concerning his son whom divine Coronis bare in bright Lacereia at the mouth of Amyrus.

It all paints a very clear picture to me. Apollo did not ask for either of them to be brought back. Though bringing them back certainly pleased and delighted him, they are actions of other gods who are moved by Apollo's grief and mourning and seek to mollify him. Him not asking doesn't mean he didn't want them back which I think is a very important distinction by the by, but it simply means that Apollo knows the natural order of things and, even if it hurts, he isn't going to press his luck about it.

Which, of course, brings us to Admetus. And I'm really not going to overcomplicate this, Admetus is different because, very vitally, Admetus is not dead. Apollo can't do a thing once Fate has been carried out and Death has claimed a mortal but you know what he absolutely can do? Bargain like hell with the Fates before that point of inevitability. And that's what he does, ultimately for Admetus and Alcestis. He sought to prolong Admetus' life, not revive him from death or absolve him from death altogether and even after getting the Fates drunk, he's still only able to organise a sacrifice - a life for a life - something completely contingent on whether some other mortal would be willing to die in Admetus' place and not at all controllable by Apollo's own power.

All of these things, I think come back to that point you made - that Apollo's place as a god of order is very important and therefore these people are very special to him if it means he's willing to go against that order but, I also wish to challenge that opinion if you'd let me. Apollo's place as a god of order is very important and therefore, I would argue, that it is even more important that it is shown that he does not break the divine order, especially for the people that mean the most to him. The original context of my comments which started this conversation were on this lovely, lovely post by @hyacinthusmemorial which contemplated upon Asclepius from the perspective of an Emergency Medical personnel and included, in their tags, the very poignant lines "there's something about Apollo letting go when Asclepius couldn't that eats my heart away" and "you do what you can, you do your best, but you don't ever reach too far" and I think that's perfectly embodied with the Apollo-Asclepius dichotomy. Apollo grieves. He wails, he cries, he does his best each and every time to save that which is precious to him but he does not curse their nature, he does not resent that they are human and ultimately, he accepts that that which is mortal must inevitably die. There is nothing that so saliently proves that those who uphold rules are also their most staunch followers - if Apollo wants to delight in his place as Fate's mouthpiece, he cannot undo Fate. And, if even the god of healing and order himself cannot undo death, what right does Asclepius, mortal as he is, talented as he is, have to disrespect it?

The beauty of these stories isn't that Apollo loved them enough to bring them back. The beauty is that Apollo loved them enough to let them go.

[ratbastarddotfuck]

am I wrong? genuinely, I'm asking. would it not come off extremely condescending?

[bumblingbabooshka]

One of the best Voyager scenes to indicate Tuvok & Neelix's dynamic and how I think Tuvok is just as if not more 'annoying'(positive) than Neelix is when Neelix pours Tuvok a fresh squeezed glass of a fruit juice blend and Tuvok's like (paraphrased) "I don't want to drink this." and Neelix is like "Can you please try it?" and Tuvok's like "I don't want to, you're really bad at this sort of thing. It's going to taste bad." and Neelix says that Ensign XYZ said she LOVED it, she even had a second glass! And Tuvok says Ensign XYZ could drink poison without a second thought and Neelix is like "Tuvok could you please just TRY it? Just try a little SIP of it PLEASE??" and Tuvok sighs and rolls his eyes and sniffs it before taking a sip and it turns out he loves it. Turns out it tasted good actually. And then after all that Neelix tries to talk to him over eggs (which he's again cooking fresh for him) and Tuvok tells him he doesn't wanna hear "the life history of his breakfast." Absolutely insufferable this man I would have burned his eggs on PURPOSE!!!!

[ratatatastic]

scare the hoes more and keep yapping about ekky (& others) getting used to maffhew, it delights me. and say even more about how sasha handles this feral and sweet omega that gets dropped into his orbit. smth smth “feels like i’ve known him 10 years” or whatever vows sasha recited to the press, cameras, and god

apparently we are taking more tumblr user ratatatastic abo yap thoughts for 500 may god hear our screams up wherever he is. big man in the sky you fuckin owe me one.

i think theres so much in particular to say in concerns of 1619 and how quickly they gelled irl but even more so in an abo au

ive always enjoyed when people assign matthew stronger scents that take getting used to if you don't like it already and i know ive read a fic where his scent notes did skew towards stronger cinnamon foods/drinks

anyways on that note it wouldnt surprise me that sasha takes so easy to this spicy little omega.

Like of course he does, he smells like the pastries he used to eat back at home, the pastries he eats now because he's found an established Finnish bakery down here that makes them homemade every morning, the bakery he likes to frequent with the other Finns when he can.

Is it ever a wonder that the cute omega that sent him such a terribly sweet text when the trade news broke out (you know, after the initial excitement worn off because Sasha does chuckle at memory of the brash "Fucking, right!" that pinged on his phone the very first time from an unknown number) smells like... home... No matter all the rumours that have swirled around Matthew, the rumours Sasha has personally experienced himself playing against him...he smells nostalgic. Like Sasha could be at home right now—you know, home home—lounging outside his cottage with tea and pastries on the little table that he's set out. The warm cinnamon that wafts from the typically sterile room they've assigned for pressers smells divine, for lack of a better word. It smells indulgent. Because Sasha can't have those homely pastries all the time, what, with his training regiment.

It's why he doesn't quite believe it that Matthew's the one that's the centre of it all. He's absolutely convinced he's hallucinating because the season is about to start and he's had to cut back on all his favourite sweets as much as it pains him to but for the betterment of the team? He'd do anything. And yet despite the way he rubs at his nose to at least try to clear it, he smells that cinnamon. That cinnamon that's definitely coming from new omega they traded over who's laughing so obnoxiously at the lectern they have set up that if his scent didn't catch your attention, his loud mannerisms certainly did. His voice is practically bouncing off the walls in big loud echoes that should hurt Sasha’s ears. Emphasis on should. As it is he finds his heart melting more than it should instead.

It's been quite a long time since someone's scent has moved him this much. All the people that have, have been in his life for so long he's forgotten what it's like to feel instant scent compatibility. His nostrils are flaring and he's trying his best not to open his mouth to huff in big gulps of it because it's rather impolite to be so obviously scenting the new guy. It could be misconstrued as Sasha taking offence to the new presence in the room.

Some part of his brain is still trying to catch up to the idea that Matthew even smells at all because the first time he met him (down here for some joint offseason ice-time) he didn't particularly smell like much, if at all really. Whether it's because he put on blockers to not intrude on pack territory until he smelled more like them, or he was still on suppressants even in the summer, Sasha wasn't sure and he definitely wasn't going to ask about it.

Known him for 10 years? He feels like he's known him his whole life. But 10's a safe number, 10's a number that won't scare off this new omega, right? 10's a number that conveys "As Captain I want this to work out, I'm opening up my pack for you, I won't shun you, you're welcome here," and not "If I stick my nose in your neck right now to scent you, they're gonna have to forcibly evict me from the new home I've found in you, and it's not gonna be a pretty outcome."

It's also why he's a little nervous when Media Day is over because despite how much it dragged along in years past it practically blitzed by and now Sasha has to—

You know, properly scent the new addition. Give them the purring acceptance of their Pack leader's scent to carry with them. And it's nothing big, it's just some chaste wrist rubbing... something subtle and not too overwhelming for everyone: the pack, and the newcomer alike. It's not like Sasha is going to mouth at Matthew's neck glands. He doesn't think he can even handle that right now but that's a problem for future Sasha—for when Matthew is really part of the pack and not like a goldfish in a plastic bag being dunked into an aquarium to get used to the water temperature. He just has to rub his wrist against his, it's like basic Alpha etiquette. It'll be fine, mostly. He hopes.

And it's as anticlimactic as he thought it'd be: gentle reintroductions and reignited chatter of excitement about the new season that's about to start... maybe just with the new lingering scent of sweet and spice in the background as if someone lit up a candle without Sasha even noticing it. It's a struggle to keep his eyes from closing from how heavy they feel, from how relaxed he feels in the presence of this new omega he knows has pissed him off on several occasions as composed as he was about it.

Matthew presents his wrist in a flourish successfully managing to divert his attention back to what they're supposed to be doing all alone like this in the dressing room like this, "I'm sure you've been dying to do this huh, Cap?"

Sweat starts to break out at the back of his neck. He knows? Sasha doesn't think he's been sending off any signals that could've hinted otherwise but Sasha admits that he's well out of practise, he hasn't had to reign in his scent this much in such a long time, and maybe Matthew picked up his weird fixation—

Matthew waggles his eyebrows for extra effect an offbeat later when the joke doesn't seem to land the way he wanted it to.

Oh, thank Christ, he's just teasing him. It's a joke. He doesn't actually mean it in the way Sasha thought he meant.

"Yes. Yes, I have," Sasha chuckles in relief, shaking his head at Matthew's attempt to lighten the mood.

"10 years, or so I've heard, bud."

"You heard? Uh, listened to the..." he trails off.

"Kinda hard not to when the setup made it sound like you were in the middle of the Earth, my guy. I don't think my ears are ever gonna recover from that."

"It's the first day for everyone," Sasha lightly chastises, not particularly aggrieved at all but wanting to keep up the banter to stall for time, so he can prepare himself. Quite honestly he feels like travelled back in time to the young anxious Alpha he was breaking out into the league for the first time.

"Be gentle, I bruise easily."

"Right, gentle. I'll treat you better than my clothes on the delicate cycle."

"Is that supposed to be a line?" Matthew says in glee, his voice pitching into incredulity.

"Line like fishing?"

"Oh, come on! You know what I'm talking about! You've been in this country long enough to pick up on that!"

"Yes, yes, that."

Matthew shoves at his shoulder playfully. "Just go on and do the thing already."

"Doing the thing."

Matthew snorts but his wrist is limp in Sasha’s hold. And as much as it was a dumb joke he does feel delicate between his fingers like that. So delicate that when he rubs his own wrist against his—to transfer over their pack scent—he feels like he's going to break it if he holds onto it for too long. It's why he drops it as quick as he took it, hands scrambling to his sides in an effort to remain polite but also to get a handle on himself so his pheromones don't go haywire with the new stimulus. It's a bit of a losing battle because he knows his scent just. But he can play it off as the excitement of an Alpha being able to claim another member to his pack, it's a possessive kind of thing.

"Well, see you around! Call it a hunch but I have a feeling we'll be seeing more of each other." And the joke wasn't funny the first time, truly the equivalent of leaning on the office fax machine and going "You come here often?" to your coworkers who just want to get their work done—and just as sleazy too with the greasy grin Matthew has permanently stuck to his face but Sasha still laughs like he did the first time he heard it.

And it's only now that Matthew is gone that Sasha realises the room smells strongly of cinnamon, so potent that anyone with a working nose would be able to tell that. Like Matthew was doing his best to ease Sasha’s obvious nerves when Sasha should've been the one to calm the omega who's been uprooted from their own pack and thrown into a completely new environment, himself.

"Jesus, it reeks in here. Smells like cinnamon," Aaron wrinkles his nose, wandering back in after his own media duties were done, finding Sasha all alone in the locker rooms.

"It does?" Like he can't tell the room smells like the equivalent of someone knocking over a Yankee Candle into an open fire.

"Yeah, like an awful lot." Aaron scrunching up his nose, trying to fight off an incoming sneeze. "It's strong," he says without thinking, swallows before his eyes shift over to Sasha and then to the floor, "Not bad just... strong..." The I can get used to it is left unspoken between them.

"I like it," Sasha admits because if Aaron is confessing to things without thinking then he might as well too. They've known each other long enough.

"I can tell." Aaron snorts, "You reek too."

Sasha lets out a questioning little noise, tilts his head to the side as he silently urges Aaron to continue.

"You have no idea what cinnamon and cardamom smell like together, do you? I feel like I walked into a bakery when I should be at the gym right now."

"Is that bad?"

"For you? No, of course not," Aaron's eyes soften, and while his scent wasn't anywhere close to abrasive, it does lighten up just a tad bit in the presence of his pack Alpha. "For me? I'd rather dunk my head in a bucket of coffee beans." A bit of an exaggeration on Aaron's part but the wry grin he has on really adds to the fact he's just joking—just a little, maybe there's some truth hidden in there. He knows how Aaron is, the way he tries to downplay anytime he bristles about something. Peace and vibes, and all that.

So Sasha can joke as well, "Forsy's stall is over there," and motions his head towards it across the room.

"Oh, hilarious."

"If I was funny I would say jock."

"You know, what? I think I will hit the gym today, thanks for reminding me."

"Mmm, anytime." And when Aaron's half out the door he adds, "Ask the staff where they put the jerseys we used today!"

"I'm going! To the gym!" he echoes back, not bothering to turn around as he shuffles down the hall in a hurry, and decidedly not going in the direction of the gym. It's not surprising when he hears chatter pick up and shoes scuffing briskly into the direction of the laundry rooms.

[godofthestupid]

am still sick

it's been over a week wth

at least the headaches have gone away a bit

[kavehater]

I mean this from a social perspective not a health one : why does everything feel weird right now. Like yes I’m heartbroken about the reality of my position in the lives of my so called friends but now I just feel confused. I don’t understand why I’m not important and why I can’t change to be important to others, nor what makes a person important either.

[bmpmp3]

my inability to play mobile games nowadays is also a source of suffering as a person who loves rhythm games. i miss her (SIF1).....