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Campamento Pies Negros en Alberta (Canadá). Fotografía tomada por Arthur Rafton-Canning alrededor de 1910.
#blackfootindian#blackfoot#blackfeet#blackfoot tribe#blackfoot nation#black feet nation#natives#native#native american#Native America#Nativo#nativos#nativo americano#nativoamerica#Nativos Americanos#american indian#American Native#nativeamericans#american natives
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What are your hopes or predictions for a "Black Panther 3"
Sorry it took me a while to get to this got so busy with life.
I don't really have a prediction, but I have ideas on how I think they can progress the series.
I"m currently reading Vol. 6 of the Black Panther comic series called A Nation Under Our Feet and Shuri's storyline in there can easily fit into BP3.
A Nation Under our Feet is about Wakanda going to war with its own people because they no longer trust T'Challa's rulership and are working with evil Americans and other nations to do it. As far as the MCU version, I can see the Wakandns that live amongst the Golden City taking issue with M'Baku's rulership, seeing as how the Jabari Tribe has been in isolated to the mountains for centuries.
In ANUOF, Ayo stole the Midnight Angel prototype to bail Aneka out of jail, who was arrested for killing a Wakandan ruler of one of the subnations (couldn't think of a better word, sorry) who were raping women, and Queen Ramonda sentenced her to death. For the MCU, I can imagine a conversation about loyalty amongst the Doras, and deleted scenes from WF gave us a bit of that when Okoye almost fought the Doras and when Aneka quit because of the unfair treatment towards Okoye.
In ANUOF, Shuri's arc involves her being in a coma while she takes on the Griot in Djalia (what is known in the MCU as the ancestral plane). I'm not sure where the direction the MCU is taking, but there's a possibility that Shuri could get hurt, so that could happen.
Ramonda is still alive during this comic, but she's later put in a coma after an explosion in the Golden City (which should've happen in WF, but we're not talking about that right now). Meanwhile in Djalia, Shuri is talking and training with her mother, but it's a spiritual manifestation of her ancestry. That is my idea of how they could bring Angela Basset back as Queen Ramonda. I've literally imagined Angela Basset saying to Letitia Wright, "Tell me a story." (which is an actual line in the comic)
And I would love to see Shuri take on the Aja-Adanna mantle because I think Letitia Wright would body that costume
And then I'm hoping that by this T'Challa could come back as a variant or they will at least use the multiverse as an excuse to reboot the series.
Those are my thoughts
#bp3 preditictions#black panther#wakanda forever#shuri#queen ramonda#t'challa#m'baku#ayo#aneka#dora milaje#a nation under our feet
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Marvel highlights its definitive must-read stories with the Marvel Premier Collection
Marvel highlights its definitive must-read stories with the Marvel Premier Collection #comics #comicbooks
#black panther#black panther: a nation under our feet#brian stelfreeze#captain america#captain america: winter soldier#chris sprouse#dale eaglesham#daredevil#daredevil: born again#david mazzucchelli#dennis o&039;neil#ed brubaker#fantastic four#fantastic four: solve everything#frnak miller#graphic novel#graphic novels#joe quesada#john paul leon#jonathan hickman#marvel#marvel premier collection#michael lark#neil edwards#steve epting#steve pting#ta-nehisi coates
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Might I inquire as to what, precisely, a Mustain't is? (Aside from a string of letters I hesitate to Google in that order.)
In October 2014 I went on a road-trip to the Dryest Place In America.
I was having a rough year, very depressed from having dropped out of college for the third time. I decided a road trip was in order to re-set my brain and get a little distance. Being that it was October, and therefore all the campgrounds in the American Southwest were filled with people who have the good sense to camp in reasonable temperatures, I elected to take my parent's minivan so I could car-camp anywhere suitably isolated, and looked up some of the southwest's geographic extremes- the highest place I could drive to (Pikes Peak), the lowest place (Badwater Basin), and for fun, the Dryest Place in the continental US, which turned out to be the Pinacate Volcanic field just west of Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument. It gets rain maybe twice a century and has no standing water, despite being less than 100 miles from the gulf of California.
It's a startlingly beautiful and alien place. The ground is a deep chocolate brown to black volcanic sand, and in mid October, the rabbit brush is turning bright yellow as it shifts to autumn, the organ pipe cacti are a dark green and stand, partially concealed in the brush at exactly human height. The air is alive with birds and insects and bats at night. The stargazing is like looking into the eyes of God.
You get there by driving down a little dirt road called "El Camino Del Diablo", or "The Devil's Road".
I drove out about three hours from Glendale, AZ to get there, arriving at sunset, and felt a profound sense of peace. I stargazed, listening to the bats hunt and sing, and slept peacefully for the first time in months.
I stayed out there for three days, sketching and painting the landscape, taking strolls through this almost alien landscape, and enjoying the light and sound and total absence of human intrusion besides myself.
On the fourth night, it was a new moon, and I awoke in the middle of the night. Something was amiss, and it took me a while to realize it was because I could NOT hear the bats. I was sleeping inside the van with the rear windows rolled halfway down rather than trying to set up the tent, so I when I sat up, I looked out of the van's reflective windows to discover what at first appeared to be A Horse.
It was something between pale gray and bright white in the starlight, standing maybe a dozen feet from the van, sniffing curiously. It made sense- I was in the middle of mustang country and there was quite a bit of foliage in the area for it and it did look like a truly wild horse- lumpy where the bones were jutting out, dusty about the hooves and face.
I was instantly seized by the sort of paralytic fear Sleep paralysis is made of. I couldn't move. It wasn't quite looking at me because it couldn't quite see through the windshield into the shadowy into the shadowy interior, but I had the distinct impression that if I looked away, it would know, and get me.
I already had problems with horses. My beloved Aunt Helen's Prize mare tried to kill me on two separate occasions, and the year before I had to carry my sister-in-law backwards out of a slot canyon whilst reciting the Saint Crispin's Day Speech as loudly as possible to keep a mustang from trampling us to death.
This is approximately what it should have looked like:
Instead, it was... off. like trying to draw a horse from memory.
The waist tapered in.
The legs were slightly too long or the torso slightly too short, probably both.
The ears were Triangular.
The head wasn't quite right- Too narrow and the jaw wasn't heavy enough.
The tail was too long and arced unnaturally away from the body.
The neck arched.
The nostrils were too high and close
The mouth too long.
Whatever this is, a Mustang it Ain't.
I watched it from the back seat as it sniffed around the front of the van, curious with about the side mirrors. It moved around the van, nibbling experimentally on the front door handle. It came up to the side windows, sniffing like a dog, and it's breath didn't fog up the glass.
Finally, it came up to the rear window, which was rolled halfway down to let the fall night air in. Not even half a pane of glass and two feet of air between us, and I could clearly see it's bright blue eyes.
Horses have Elongated pupils to give them a wide field of vision, and eyes that rotate sideways in their sockets so the pupil remains parallel to the ground. Rather creepy to watch, especially the ones with blue eyes.
A real horse that was curious about the interior of the van would have come up to the window more or less sideways, and looked at me with something like this:
Instead, the damn thing walked up and faced the back window head on, staring back at me with this:
I'm not sure how long we watched each other like that, eyes locked. My eyes burned. I couldn't blink. My mouth was dry. I couldn't swallow. My throat began to ache. I couldn't make a sound. My skin began to twitch, like I was severely dehydrated. I couldn't move. My lungs burned. I couldn't move. I couldn't move. I couldn't move. I couldn't move.
Something was touching the side of my hand on the seat next to me. It's my water bottle.
The realization must have broken the terrible paralysis in the lower parts of my brain first, because by the time I consciously realized I could move again, I was already flinging my water bottle out the window at it.
The top was open, and splashed out the window at the Mustain't.
I've never heard such a scream out of an animal. Something halfway between the sound of unquenchable rage vibrating in someone's chest and the way rabbits cry out to God when the dogs catch them.
It jumped back, pivoting away from the van, snarling at the water bottle. I don't think you're supposed to be able to see All of a horse's teeth at once, no matter how angry it is.
I watched it run into the night for some distance, it's pale body visible against the black sand and the dark gray shadow of the ancient volcanic cone it was headed for.
When the blood stopped pounding in my ears, I could hear the bats again.
I debated leaving right then, but I didn't want to get out of the van with that thing in the area, nor litter by leaving the water bottle out there. I also had the awful idea that if I left now, it might somehow be able to follow me home. I ended up staying up three hours to watch the sunrise, shaking and trying to figure out if I'd woken up from a vivid dream, if my meds had stopped working, or if that had really happened. I didn't dare move until I actually felt the temperature rise, before stepping out of the van to grab the bottle. I had my camera ready- I was still using a DSLR back then- to take pictures of the hoofprints, to show how close it had gotten to the van.
No hoofprints.
Beetle tracks in the soft sand around the van, and the clear foot-and-wing prints of a bird that had hopped around then taken off. But no hoofprints.
I went over the entire campsite with the tent broom, to make sure I removed every scrap of evidence I had ever been there, including my footprints, grabbed my water bottle, and drove the three hours back back to Glendale, then decided to do seven more hours of driving to Moab, Utah just to put more than 500 miles, the state line and at least nine things that could be considered "running water" between me and the Mustain't.
-
I still have that water bottle. It has a dent in the bottom from hitting something, but that could have happened at any time. Strange thing though. I can't drink that bottle dry. I'll have it on me, drink whatever I've put in there- water, juice, iced coffee- and eventually feel like I've drunk the whole think and that it's empty. But I open it up and it's still at least a quarter full. I drink that. I get thirsty. I open it up again. ...and there's always a mouthful left.
Not sure what the side effects of drinking from a bottle cursed by a Mustain't to always have some left are, but it lives in the Emergency Breakdown Kit in my car now, just in case I meet another one.
---
(I'm a disabled artist and make my living telling stories, please consider supporting me on Ko-Fi or Pre-order the Family Lore book on Patreon)
#Family Lore#scary stories to tell in the dark#or out camping#Horses#sort of#The Mustain't#long post#trypophobia#I know these are usually funny but this one is spooky
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oddly enough, i feel relieved. i know now where we stand with this country. i know now that this is a nation that, despite her protestations, does not want to be saved. at this point, i am not sure she can be anyway. but what i do know is that there are people here who still need protecting. there are disabled people here, trans people here, pregnant people here, brown and black people here, queer people here, and as long as my feet rest on american soil, those people are my family and they are worth protecting. so, like, maybe this nation doesn't want to be saved. that's fine. trump and his friends can have whichever parts they lay claim to. but they can't have us. so. if you have breath in your lungs, you're my people, you're my family and i am going to fight for you for as long and as hard as i can. that's all i've got at the moment. we'll figure out the rest together, okay?
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Body-cam video shows Illinois officer fatally shooting Black woman in face
White deputy Sean Grayson shot Sonya Massey, who called police in fear of a home intruder, after boiling water dispute
Massey, whom her daughter confirmed was paranoid-schizophrenic, had called police because she thought someone was trying to break into her home. When police arrived, they began looking into Massey’s home with flashlights, a neighbor, Cheryl Evans, told the Guardian. Evans wondered why police had not knocked on her door, as they typically have done in the past when searching for suspects. Eventually, Grayson, who is white, and his partner entered the home where they began speaking to Massey. After an initial discussion and request for Massey’s driver’s license,Grayson spotted a pot of boiling water on the stove and ordered Massey to remove it to avoid starting a fire. In doing so, Massey asks the officers �� who visibly distance themselves from her as she goes to handle the pot – why they moved away from her. “Where you going?” she asks them. “Away from your hot steaming water,” Grayson answers, with a laugh, before Massey responds: “Away from the hot steaming water? Oh, I’ll rebuke you in the name of Jesus.” With his gun drawn, Grayson closed the distance between himself and Massey, who was beginning to kneel behind a counter with her hands up. “You better fucking not, I swear to God I’ll fucking shoot you right in your fucking face,” Grayson warned. Massey can be heard saying, “I’m sorry,” as Grayson continues to advance. “I’m sorry,” she says again as Grayson fires three shots, striking her with a bullet below the eye that exited from the back of her neck. As Massey lay dying on her kitchen floor, Grayson says he’ll go get his medical kit to render aid. “That’s a headshot. She’s done,” Grayson says before going to get the med kit. As the pair stand there with their guns still drawn, Grayson says: “I’m not taking a bullet out of her fucking head,” then points out that the water from the pot had reached his feet. “What else can we do?” Grayson asks his partner. “I’m not taking hot boiling water to the fucking face.”
[...]
Massey’s death carries on a troubling legacy of racial violence in Springfield: Massey’s family said she is a descendant of William Donnegan, a Black man who was lynched by a white mob but survived during the city’s infamous 1908 race riots that took 17 Black lives over a two-day period in mid-August of that year. As a result of the violence and carnage, a group of white and Black Americans banded together to create the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP). Massey’s family said that the irony of having to reach out to the NAACP for help after her killing is not lost on them.
#you don't need to watch the video. the description is more than enough to understand just how sadistic and malicious this was#sonya massey#black lives matter#acab#news#usa#illinois
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Little Blue Heron (Egretta caerulea)
Snowy Egret (Egretta thula)
September 6, 2024
John Heinz National Wildlife Refuge, Tinicum, Pennsylvania
I thought I had photographed several juvenile Little Blue Herons, which are white when they are young and are common at this refuge at this time of year. Was surprised to see the black legs and yellow feet of a Snowy Egret when I was editing the photos. Also the Little Blue has a two-tone bill and the Snowy's is black.
#birds#bird#photographers on tumblr#snowy egret#Egretta thula#Egretta caerulea#little blue heron#herons#egrets#birdblr#birb#birbs#ornithology#birblr#nature#animals#wildlife photography
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𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞
modern!jacaerys x f!reader ─── smut, vanilla sex, jace is a mama's boy, a lil english major who's serious about his academics, basically a goodie two shoes. reader is an adventurous cheerleader babe. p in v, love making as secretly as possible with his family at home (i know theyre freaky). not fully edited.
summary: finals season has arrived and jacaerys is worried about his championship game and passing his classes. he just did not think you would change the way of how studying could even work.
jace nation tag list: @jacaerysgf @star611 @jules420 @intheheartoftheking @gracexthoughts @astrxq @reyndaisy @hxtd @smurfelle @nanaldy @valdezthg @littleblackcatinwonderland @nixtape-foryou @starrgurl46 @ethereal-athalia @stelleduarte @canyonmoon-2 @ambrosia-v-black @chuuritoz @melsunshine @frombloodandfire
“Get it together jace,” Jacaerys muttered, his hands running through his already messy hair. His fingers tapped rapidly through the page of his text book as if the answers were going to appear magically to him.
“Jace. Mom has been calling you to eat for the past fifteen minutes, you know she hates lateness,” Lucerys stood by the doorway of his brother’s room a slight smirk on his face as he looked at his brother who now slammed his face onto the book.
“Geesh… and I thought I was terrible, you’re even worse,” Luke joked. Jacaerys only moved his head to peek at his younger brother before he threw a pen at his head.
“Get out Luke, tell Mom I am no-“
“Tell me what exactly? If you think I am going to let you go to sleep without eating, you are absolutely wrong my dear,” Rhaenyra crossed her arms, a stern look on her face that had Jacaerys scrambling on his feet to meet her.
“Sorry mother,” he muttered, he scratched his neck before he twirled his fingers around, Rhaenyra sighed. She entered the room with soft steps, Jacaerys had now stopped his nervous ticks the moment he felt his mother’s touch.
“You got this my sweet boy. You’re the bravest, and smartest boy, I have raised you well. I know you will finish strongly, or am I wrong?”
Jacaerys widened his eyes, “No mother.”
Rhaenyra ran her fingers through the mess of hair, she smiled softly, “Now, wash up. Your brothers are waiting for you, Daemon bought that movie you and Luke begged him to buy.”
Luke exclaimed excitedly before he ran down the hall to the dining room, Rhaenyra and Jace heard him thanking their step-father over and over. They chuckled together.
As Jace scored the winning goal, the team swallowed him onto the ground, he groaned. He only wanted to see the one person that motivated him, that came to every single one of his games to cheer for him loudly that he felt no trophy could ever top the love he had for you.
The crowd cheered loudly, Jace managed to escape the sweaty bodies of his teammates before he was wrapped with a warmth so familiar, he knew it was you. He caught you in his arms the moment you ran up to him, your smile making him feel weak in the legs. He would bring the world and the stars for you if you’d ask.
Your pom-poms covered both of your faces as you leaned down to kiss him, since you had jumped on him, your legs wrapped around his waist - he held you up, his arms tightly holding your thighs, pressing you close. Your rosy lipstick now stained his already plump lips.
He groaned in satisfaction, you pulled away, giggling when he chased you for another kiss, “Congratulations Targaryen, you’re now going to the championship game.”
He smiled stupidly, from where he was looking at you, you looked like a bright star, your hair was held back by a headband that matched the color of his jersey. Your eyes covered in shiny glitter that he helped put on before the game because according to him, he wanted to try to put some on you. You were beautiful, and all his.
He leaned up to kiss you deeply, feeling your fingers dig deep into the slightly wet curls of his. The world vanished then, and Jacaerys wanted you more than ever, but it was not a place where he wanted to devour you.
You pulled away, he groaned again in annoyance, “Hold on tiger. You stink. And your mother and brothers are waiting to celebrate your win.”
He opened his eyes to see you with a teasing face, he narrowed his eyes in suspicion, you had a cunning smile. He did not want to question it yet so he placed you back onto the floor, without saying a word he took your hand interlacing it with his, both of you meeting his overly excited family that covered him in confetti. He thought life couldn’t get any more better than this.
His bed bounced as pushed his glasses upward, stopping them from slipping off his nose. He knew you were with him, but he paid you no mind as he mumbled the words from the slides to himself.
You leaned your head onto his shoulder, watching him study the same presentation over and over. You sat beside him, quietly biting onto your cinnamon roll that Rhaenyra begged you to take to Jace as well since she knew he was bound to skip dinner.
“Jace.”
“Hm,” he nodded his head slightly, letting you know he was listening to you. He truly was not though, he had a pen between his teeth biting on the top cap. You sighed.
“Jace.”
“Mm,” again he responded nonchalantly.
You rolled your eyes having enough. You took the laptop from him, shutting it close as you tossed it lightly onto his bedside table. You watched him widened his eyes, his arms reached to fight you but you beat him as you pushed him down onto the bed, sitting right on top.
His glasses moved upward, touching his forehead just a bit. You chuckled as he groaned in annoyance nonetheless his hands moved to hold your waist.
“Y/n… I need to study… you know I have to get good scores on the finals to keep my spot as top student.”
You smiled softly, your hands trailing down his chest to the toned body of his. His eyes fluttered, he enjoyed you touching him, he squirmed under you feeling his erection grow. He was shy to admit that even the slightest things you would do made him excited.
“You studied enough. You and I both know you’ll pass. Just how we also know, you will win the game,” Your fingers reached up to his face, pulling his glasses back to its original spot, you had always loved him with glasses. He huffed softly, his eyes moving upwards to try and avoid your strong gaze that had him digging his fingers softly into your waist.
“You’re only human jace, give yourself breaks hm?”
“I hate when you’re right,” he mumbled.
You laughed, tapping his nose lightly. His eyes moved back to your face, you leaned down to place a soft kiss on his nose you felt him breathe in deeply. He moved his head to reach your lips where he captured your warm lips with his.
You sighed into his mouth, enjoying the way his tongue licked your bottom lip. Your lips parted giving him access to taste you, he moaned when he got a taste of the sweetness from the bun you ate.
With his teeth, he pulled your bottom lip, sucking it lightly, you let him grinding your hip against his hardening erection hidden under the sweatpants you wanted to get rid of.
You rubbed harder, your panties now soaked from the need of wanting him. He let go of your lips as he let out a whimper. You sat on top still rubbing, twisting your hips in small circles to entice him. With half lidded eyes and small drool on the corner of his lips you wanted him so much more than before.
“Shh. I’ve got you,” you whispered, you ran your tongue down his neck finding a spot only you knew ruined him.
Right above his ear, in between his collarbone you placed a kiss and then you sucked hard, enjoying the small whimpers he let out. His hands working fast but clumsily pulling and tugging the straps of your sundress. He needed you, now.
He swallowed, “Please my love. Off,” he tugged the straps hard.
You heard a tear of fabric between your soft kisses that you left on his neck, you breathed in a laugh. You pushed him hard onto the bed, he grunted, you leaned back on your feet enjoying the flush on his cheeks, the curls surrounding him making him look angelic.
The sun was barely going down, and with the little sunlight still left, it touched Jace’s skin, his bright brown eyes covered by his slight fogged glasses from the amount of heavy breathing he was doing.
“Y/n… please…” he whispered, licking his lips watching you slowly tug down the straps, pulling down your bra as well. You watched him gasp slightly, taking in the view of the delicacy of your skin.
“Seven hells… how did I get so lucky?”
You hummed, getting rid of your dress completely, only sitting on top of him in your lace panties. He watched you hungrily, ready to bounce on you but held back, he wanted to take his time with you. Kiss all the little freckles on your body, find new spots that made you whisper his name as in a prayer.
He wanted to find all the new things that made your body quiver, flourish in his hands, his mouth. His mouth suddenly felt dry, he wanted to taste you so bad.
You smiled wickedly, your hand reached forward, grabbing his index cards he had also written to study. You looked through them fast before you tossed them somewhere on the floor.
Leaning forward, you grabbed his hands, placing them on your breasts, sighing blissfully when out of habit his thumbs flicked your now perked buds.
“Every right answer you give me, you’ll be allowed to touch me,” you whispered, smiling even wider when you felt him twitch underneath you.
Jacaerys was competitive, and he wanted to have you so badly but he also wanted to prove to you he was smart. He thought this was better than any study group he ever had, his fingers twitched against your breasts, wanting them deep in your cunt just to watch you bend in an angelic position, all because of him.
For once, he was greedy, he wanted to watch you have power over him. He licked his lips again, anticipating every moment that will occur. He thanked the old gods and new for gifting him you.
“First question,” you sat with his hands still on your breasts, enjoying the lust on your boyfriend’s eyes, the way sweat started to form on his forehead, the twitch of his eyebrow as he tried to read you, to the way his lips parted, his breaths coming out in sharp huffs.
“Name all the kings we had, from first king to now.”
Jacaerys struggled, he regretted now the position he was in, he couldn’t focus having you bare only in silk panties, your skin glowing, hair loose and curled at the tips. He just wanted to make love to you. He held his breath, his hands shaking, noticing, you smirked.
“Uh.. Um…” he cleared his throat, his eyebrows slightly scrunched together as he tried to think, “Aegon, the conqueror,” you hummed.
You let his hand go down the middle of your breast, to your stomach, hearing his breath hitched you stopped.
“I uh… Aenys,” he stuttered, finding it hard to stay still.
Again, you moved his hand to your navel, letting go of his hand as you waited for the rest of the answer to come out of your struggling boyfriend who remained obedient.
“Maegor, Jaehaerys, Viserys…” his voice straining.
You smiled, “Good job my love. See? The answers are flowing out of you.” You stood up then, he sat up quickly, his body in heat running with adrenaline from wanting you. Your fingers pulled the bands of your panties to slide them off your legs. Jacaerys’ mouth fell slack.
You tapped your finger to your chin as in thought, you moved as you spoke to sit on his lap, your legs spread on either side of his own. “Ah.. why is the reason that dragons are the symbol of the Targaryen family?”
Jacaerys tried, he truly did want to show off his intelligence but he couldn’t concentrate anymore. How could he concentrate when he had you on his lap, nude, your curls falling onto your shoulders giving you a glow so beautiful he was breathless.
“Seven hells y/n, I can’t do this,” he moved so quick you were startled that you ended up bumping your head onto his headboard. His eyes panicked, the lust from his eyes softening, “Baby, baby i am so sorry!”
You laughed loudly, taking his face into your hands where you pulled him to give him a kiss. He moaned into your mouth, his hands pulling your hands above your head, interlocking it with his.
“You didn’t answer the question Jacaerys,” you muttered into his lips. He moaned in annoyance over the fact you kept pulling away from him when all he wanted was to shower you with love.
“No offense, but you talk a lot my love, I just want you,” Jace fluttered his eyes, looking down on you his light brown eyes shadowed with a mischievous glint that had you swallow.
“Yeah?”
He nodded, his glasses sliding down more, you pushed them up again, his curls were a mess and damn… he looked ethereal. He was all yours, the pride in your chest swelled as as the love you felt for him did too.
You both smiled at each other before he kissed you again, his lips grazing your cheeks, eyebrows, forehead, everywhere he could touch, you giggled. Jacaerys felt like he could fly, the need to feel you, to connect with you felt heavy on his head.
He took a moment to observe the environment, he was quick, in a moment he heard everything, the laughter of his younger brothers, the sound of his mother talking over the phone. His cheeks blossoming crimson, the idea of having you while his family were so close bought an excitement to him.
He nibbled on your neck before whispering, “We have to keep quiet, mom…” he paused, feeling embarrassed, “anyone can hear us if we’re loud.”
You smirked, feeling the heat boil, “then try not to make me scream out,”
Jacaerys pulled away his eyebrows furrowed as if you said something offensive, “Oh? If i don’t, then I am not deserving of you my angel.”
Everything happened so fast, Jacaerys felt like he only blinked for a second, one second he was tasting you, leaving small marks on your neck then he was under you again, his chest bare, his boxers suddenly feeling hot.
You sat on top again, licking your lips admiring the work you made, a wet kiss on his chest turning red. Jacaerys felt sweat drip from his forehead, he needed to have you, now. But, he knew the reward would soon calm if he was patient - though he did not want to wait.
“Tell me my love, why are dragons the symbol of your family? If they are myth, why is it symbolic?”
Jacaerys rolled his eyes as his head tilted back, “Are you… Are you serious?” he whined, he thought he escaped this.
You tighten your lips together to hold back from laughing, “Oh i am serious babe. Now answer, or else.. I’ll go downstairs and play with Joff, i’ll ignore you all day.”
Jacaerys for the sake of his bulge feeling like it was ready to explode, tried.
He closed his eyes, scanning memories of the information he studied, “It was said that Targaryens are closer to the gods due to their faith in old traditions. Dragons are a symbol of power but also peace. Our family-“ suddenly he hissed, his eyes rolling to the back of his head.
Your teeth pulled the band of his boxers down, as your hand’s massaged the muscular thighs of his, you paused when you heard nothing but hard breathing, “I didn’t tell you to stop Jacaerys.”
He whimpered, “Dear gods…” he cleared his throat, “Our family symbol being dragons is to remind us of our history, to remind us why helping our people is also building a foundation for a better future, that is why our law firm is uh-“ he moaned when he felt your lips kissing up his toned chest.
“Our law firm is the most popular, and is one of the first establishments holding a strong position in justice.”
You stopped, Jacaerys was breathing hard as if he had ran through a marathon, “You really need to stop overthinking you won’t pass your exams, you are smart.”
Pressing a slight kiss on his lips, you sat up again, “Good job baby,” you moved his shaky hand to your body again, however Jacaerys had other plans, he sat up meeting you face to face.
“You are the world’s best person to ever grace us, I am so lucky to have you,” he whispered all the while his fingers grazed the apple of your cheeks, you couldn’t avoid the amount of love his eyes held you just needed him. The sexual tension between you was too strong to ignore.
“Jace..”
He pushed your hair back, his eyes mapping out the beauty marks on your face. You were so beautiful, he would never once stop repeating it, “I love you, with every ounce of my heart,” and that was when your heart flew out of your chest.
He laid you onto his bed, both of you shaking with need to have each other. His lips traced every bump, every inch of your body until he reached the valley of your breasts. The metal of his glasses making your skin crawl with goosebumps.
“All mine,” he whispered. His fingers traced the perky buds of your breasts before he took one in his mouth, moaning as if he was having the best dessert - in a way he was. Your body lifted from the bed, mind clouded with him only.
“Jace,” you pleaded now, needing him to stop his slow pace, you just needed him inside you. You felt him shudder at the way you said his name.
He pulled back, your eyes shaking in need but Jace was worse, his eyes filled with need, hidden behind those glasses of his he was overwhelmed with the love he had for you.
You felt his bulge nudge your core causing you to tilt your head back, moaning softly, you heard the gasping of your boyfriend who struggled what to do next. He never wanted to rush into things but he needed you, he wanted to explore more of you but he just needed to be inside, to carefully love you and show you.
You made the decision to guide him, you and Jacaerys were not always active, majority of your relationship was very innocent and you didn’t complain, simply being in the arms of your boyfriend was enough. Jacaerys only needed you close to feel the love you felt for him as he did you.
He never disrespected you, always showed you respect and love in small and big ways. His family adored you, with his mom already calling you her daughter she never had. Daemon adored your stubbornness, mentioning how you reminded him of his younger days. To Jace, that was enough.
So when you guided him inside of you, feeling the tip of his erection inside you, both of you gasped, holding each other in desperate need of love. He shook in your arms as your legs wrapped around his waist, he didn’t move feeling too overwhelmed from your heat.
“t’s okay,” you whispered, your heart full, and as you locked eyes with the one man who you swore your life to, he pushed all the way in, the tears seeping from your eyes.
He held you in his arms tightly, whimpering as you tugged the wet curls of his, pulling out and pushing in with such care that had you breathing out choked sobs from the love you felt. He only prepped small kisses, whispering the love he held for you.
“I love you, I love you,” he whispered into your mouth, his hands wiping the tears from your cheeks, feeling his own pool. Your fingers marked half moons onto his shoulde blades, marking beautiful trails of your love as he pushed into you harder, faster.
You removed his glasses then, finally coming to face his eyes that were scrunched together in concentration and if it was another occasion you would’ve laughed but you kissed his face holding onto him as your noses bumped into each other clumsily.
“You feel so g-good,” he muttered, his hand holding onto your right hand, you said nothing as you took him in, feeling the little bubble in your tummy ready to release.
“J-Jace,” you stuttered, squealing when he finally hit that one spot inside you, “OH! Don’t stop… donnn-t stop.”
He knew you were close, you held onto his hair tighter, your eyes rolled onto the back of your head as you bent your neck all the way back displaying your entire neck to him. He pushed harder, making it a mission to have you see stars, he watched you carefully, hearing how you muttered his name like a prayer.
He was so close, but he held back, his cheeks were warm, as he felt the need to come inside you with just watching you wither in his embrace. All that was heard was the bed squeaking, the headboard of his bed slamming against the wall, and as much as he wanted to keep it quiet, he couldn’t. He just needed you.
“My pretty angel, all mine,” he whispered again, he had let go of your hand reaching down on your sensitive bud where he rubbed in circles, you moaned loudly and he reacted so fast he covered your mouth with his as he swallowed your slight screams.
He felt the stutter of your hips and the shocks that your body was going through, and suddenly he felt the tightness of your warmth wrapping him hard that his chest felt on fire.
He closed his eyes allowing the pleasure to sweep him out of the world, with one last push he allowed to come inside you hearing you sigh in bliss, your body still shaking, the tears dry on your cheeks.
You held Jace against you, brushing his hair back, hearing him try to level his breathing back to normal. You did not want him to pull out of you but you needed to pee.
He kissed your breasts before he slowly pulled out, both of you shuddering, he then kissed you deeply. He said nothing, but neither did you, both of you basking in the love.
You watched as he pulled you into his arms, carrying you into his bathroom, he looked beautiful. You sat in the toilet as he prepared a bath, and took the moment when he went to get you clothes to pee.
When he came back he had a hoodie of his and a pair of boxers for you to wear, you childishly made grabby hands, he chuckled before he pulled you to the bath tub with him.
The silence was comfortable, until a thought hit you, “Jace?”
You leaned your head back to look at him, he was smiling with his eyes closed, “Yeah?”
“I think.. I saw Luke’s feet at some point by the door,”
Jace snapped his eyes open in a panic, one look at you, who looked at him with your own set of eyes that held panic, he laughed loudly, you joined him.
Lucerys did in fact stopped by his brother’s door, he only wanted to ask if you wanted to play mario’s kart, but that flew out the window when he heard his brother’s moans. So he sat in the family room with a traumatized look on his face thinking he wished dragons were real so he can ask to get eaten instead.
#𓇼 nattie's works#jacaerys velaryon#jacaerys targaryen#house of the dragon#jacaerys x reader#jacaerys velaryon x reader#jacaerys x oc#jacaerys targaryen x reader#jacaerys smut#hotd jacaerys#jacaerys x you#hotd x y/n#house of the dragon fanfiction#prince jacaerys#jace x reader
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"Black-footed ferrets are North America’s only native ferret species and were thought to be extinct in 1979.
When the species was miraculously rediscovered in 1981 in Wyoming, these long, quirky mammals quickly rose to become the center of dedicated conservation efforts.
At that time, the Wyoming Game Department and U.S. Fish and Wildlife Services brought 18 ferrets into human care to begin cooperative breeding programs, like the one at the Smithsonian’s National Zoo and Conservation Biology Institute in Front Royal, Virginia.
Between captive breeding, wildlife reintroductions, habitat restoration, and even genetic cloning, one of the continent's most endangered mammals is now seeing a comeback.
Perhaps the cutest manifestation of this conservation work is a new litter, born at the NZCBI on May 11.
Since 1989, 1,218 black-footed ferret kits have been born at NZCBI, with 750 reintroduced to the wild. Currently, 48 ferrets live at NZCBI, including one-year-old female Aristides, who gave birth to the new litter of six kits last week.
Last breeding season, NZCBI raised 51 ferret kits. Now with 2024’s season underway, animal care staff are closely monitoring the ferrets’ behavior through the institute’s Black-Footed Ferret Cam (a temporary live webcam the public can also view on the NZCBI website)...
Right now, the kits are still tiny, weighing less than 10 grams, with a thin layer of white fur covering their bodies. Their well-known mask-like markings and namesake dark feet will appear in the next few weeks. Then, they’ll start venturing out of their den and exploring the burrows of their habitat, akin to the tunnels they’d find in the wild."
-via GoodGoodGood, May 21, 2024
#endangered species#ferret#ferrets#black footed ferret#united states#conservation#conservation news#baby animals#good news#hope
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Make You Remember
Yoo Jimin (Karina) x Reader
GENRE: angst, fluff
TYPE: One Shot
Inspired by: Make You Remember - Lazy Weekends
A/N: i’ve been in a writing slump this year, but every now and then, i’d come here to read. recently, a few pieces caught my attention and reignited my urge to write. so, here we are! while revisiting my 2018 spotify playlists for a dose of nostalgia, i stumbled upon one of my favorite songs from back then—it felt like the perfect way to ease back into writing. (a little shoutout to 2cool-2die, her stories were what got me back into writing). anyway, hope you all enjoy the story!
“Stop staring at her like a creep,” Minjeong whispered, her large eyes narrowing in a protective glare.
Jimin couldn’t help herself. She had been watching you for the past hour—watching the way you threw your head back in laughter at something your friends said or carefully picked the tomatoes off your sandwich to hand them off to someone else. Her fists clenched at the sight.
You used to pluck off tomatoes and feed them to her, letting her play your knight in shining armor against your sworn enemy: tomatoes. It should’ve been her.
Oh, how she missed that smile you used to reserve just for her.
“Dude, I’m serious,” Minjeong hissed again, this time throwing a balled-up tissue at Jimin’s face. “This is getting out of hand.”
Jimin grunted in annoyance, lazily stretching her long arms overhead before sprawling out on the metal bench. Her head landed on Aeri’s lap as if she didn’t have a care in the world.
“I can’t help it. I miss her,” she admitted quietly, closing her eyes as Aeri absentmindedly began combing through her soft raven-black hair with her fingers.
“Well, you should’ve done better,” NingNing said flatly, taking a deep drag from her Juul. “She really loved you, you know.”
The girls expected Jimin to snap back, as she always did. Instead, they watched her deflate entirely, burrowing her face into Aeri’s stomach for solace.
“I know.”
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Jimin had always been sure of herself. She was proud of her decisions, every one of them. After all, she had transferred from one of the top universities in the UK to pursue her passion for dance in Korea—a choice that went against her parents’ wishes. They had warned her about the instability of a dance career, but she’d proved them wrong.
She had met Minjeong, Aeri, and NingNing shortly after her return, and together, they formed a dance group. Now in her third year of university, Jimin was part of AESPA, a group that had skyrocketed to fame after winning first place in a national competition.
With a growing fanbase, a promising future, and an upcoming performance in front of the president at the annual ceremony, Jimin had every reason to be proud of her choices.
Every reason—except for letting you go.
She had met you during her first year back in Korea. You were the university’s student ambassador, tasked with introducing new students to campus life. Since she was the only mid-semester transfer at the time, Jimin had the luck of spending the entire day with you, just the two of you.
You captivated her immediately. Your soft, angelic voice, dry sense of humor, and those big brown eyes that lit up with excitement over the smallest things…like the library. Jimin had thought you were the lamest, cutest little thing she’d ever met. And from that moment, she was hooked.
Jimin made it her mission to sweep you off your feet. Surprised but not surprised, you had plenty of admirers. You were popular, down-to-earth, and undeniably beautiful, the kind of person who effortlessly drew others in. That only made Jimin's task harder, pushing her to work tirelessly to win your heart.
To everyone else, you were the classy student ambassador, smart, athletic, and poised. But Jimin knew the truth: beneath all that polish, you were a total nerd.
So, she went out of her way to prove how much she cared. She’d pick you up from class with your favorite snacks, even when her schedule was packed.
She once secretly drove across state lines to attend an anime expo, just to get you those rare Pokémon cards you’d been obsessing over…though she swore she lost at least a million cool points doing it. But every second was worth it when she saw your face light up. Jimin even sat through every Avengers movie, biting back sarcastic remarks just to see you smile.
Before long, you were hers and she was yours. You found yourself snuggled into her arms during late-night movie marathons, or cheering from backstage as she started entering dance competitions.
You were her there to support when she doubted herself after losing a dance battle, always ready with a hug and soft kisses. You were AESPA's unofficial fifth member, helping them set up for street performances and cheering louder than anyone else when they won.
And when AESPA skyrocketed to fame, you stood faithfully by her side, despite the growing distance you felt creeping in.
But fame did something to Jimin. Slowly, the girl who once drove hours for Pokémon cards began to lose sight of the things that mattered. You were the first to notice the changes. Jimin started craving the spotlight more than anything else, and you quietly faded into the shadows.
You stopped bringing up your hobbies after a fan on her livestream mocked you for being childish. You stopped asking her for late-night drives when her excuses became more frequent. And you stopped waiting for her to notice how tired you looked, how empty you felt.
She didn’t notice when you began packing up your prized Pokémon collection, throwing it all away as if erasing a piece of yourself. She didn’t notice when you started leaving events early, hiding the hurt behind a polite smile. Jimin was so caught up in her world of adoration, flashing lights, and applause that she failed to see you slipping through her fingers.
She didn’t notice until it was far too late. By the time she turned around, desperate to hold onto what was left, you were already gone. She had lost you. And in losing you, she lost the part of herself that had once felt complete.
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“C’mon, Jimin. Get out of your head.” Jimin slapped her forehead in frustration as she stumbled through the routine once again.
The sound of sneakers squeaking on the polished floor was followed by a collective groan from the rest of the girls, who collapsed onto the studio floor in exhaustion. AESPA was under pressure. They were supposed to perfect a dance routine for a massive ad collaboration, a career-defining moment. But with finals looming and the team juggling school and practice, their patience was wearing thin.
“I’m really sorry, guys,” Jimin said quietly, glancing at her exhausted teammates sprawled on the floor.
Aeri’s pink hair stuck to her damp face, and Minjeong lay flat on her back, staring blankly at the ceiling like she’d lost her will to live.
“It’s been three months, Jimin.” NingNing sighed, rubbing her temples. “When are you going to get over her? This isn’t like you.”
“I’m trying,” Jimin muttered, her gaze locked on her scuffed sneakers, her throat tight with unshed tears. “But at the same time…I don’t want to.”
“Well, what do you want, then?” Aeri asked, sitting up with a tired glare.
She was drained. She was tired of practice, of exams, and most of all, of watching her leader spiral into a deep abyss of self-hatred and regret in front of her.
Jimin hesitated, her dark brows knitting together as if weighing the weight of her answer.
“I want her back,” she finally admitted. “I want Y/N back.”
“Absolutely not,” Minjeong snapped, suddenly sitting up and joining the conversation. Her arms crossed, and her expression was livid. “You broke her, Jimin. You fucking broke her heart.”
Jimin lowered her head, guilt weighing heavy on her shoulders, but her she had already made this decision days ago. After finding one of your old LEGO pieces buried under her bed, a reminder of simpler, happier times, she had cradled it in her hands and cried like a baby.
That night, she spiraled into a social media stalking session, scrolling through your photos, searching for any trace of the love she had destroyed. That was when she decided she’d do whatever it took to make things right.
“I’ll treat her right this time,” Jimin whispered, her voice trembling.
“I’ll do anything to make her happy.”
Minjeong stood abruptly, storming over to Jimin, her smaller frame radiating fiery anger. Despite the height difference, Jimin instinctively cowered under Minjeong’s glare.
“Do you know how many times she came to me crying in the middle of the night because you couldn’t even show up for a date? How insecure you made her feel? How your stupid fangirls tore her apart?” Minjeong jabbed a finger into Jimin’s chest with every accusation.
“She’s my best friend, Jimin. I won’t let you hurt her again. She gave you everything. She gave you so many chances, and you let her down every single time.”
The room crackled with tension as Jimin’s lips parted to respond, but no words came out. Sensing a fight about to break out, NingNing and Aeri hurriedly stepped between the two girls.
“Hey, now’s not the time to fight,” NingNing said gently, wrapping her arms around Minjeong’s shoulders to pull her back. “We all care about Y/N, okay? Let’s take a second.”
“Please,” Jimin pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper. Tears rimmed her eyes, but there was an earnestness in her tone that softened her hardened edges.
“Just give me a chance. I swear I’ll never hurt her again.”
“No. No fucking way,” Minjeong snapped, her voice firm.
“How about we let Y/N decide herself?” Aeri suggested cautiously, flinching slightly under Minjeong’s searing glare.
“Jimin can talk to her. If she says no…then that’s it. Jimin walks away and never bothers her again.”
The blonde hesitated. She knew how deeply you had loved Jimin and how much it had cost you when things fell apart. Letting Jimin reach out could undo all the progress you’d made. But at the same time…if she stopped this, would you resent her for it?
With a heavy sigh, Minjeong finally relented. “Fine. Just one sentence. If she reacts badly to whatever you say, you stay the hell away from her. For good.”
Jimin’s lips curved into a genuine smile for the first time in months, a smile full of hope, the kind that crinkled the corners of her eyes.
“One sentence is more than enough to make her remember.”
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They say the easiest way to someone's heart is through their stomach, so Jimin threw herself into her first mission with relentless determination. The five-hour drive to Busan and back didn’t faze her—this was for you. She needed to remind you of the small things, the little joys you used to share.
The memory of your trips together flooded her mind: your hand in hers, your voice belting off tune to whichever K-pop song was stuck in your head, and your infectious laughter filling the car. She prayed to the gods to hear that laugh again.
By the time she returned to Seoul, the darkness of the night had already cloaked the streets. Armed with the pink box of macarons from your hometown bakery, Jimin’s heart raced with anticipation and dread. Aeri had passed along a tip (reluctantly overheard from Minjeong, who would never willingly disclose your whereabouts to Jimin) that you were working a shift at the local bistro.
When Jimin walked into the cozy bistro, the soft chime of the bell drew attention from other patrons. Murmurs rippled through the room as people recognized her, AESPA’s leader, a rising star. But Jimin’s focus was on you. Only you.
You stood behind the counter, your hair tied up in a messy bun, concentrated on preparing a tray of drinks. You weren’t as put-together as you are in school, with your crisp white shirt bearing faint creases, but to Jimin, you were as breathtaking as ever.
She made her way to the counter, sitting directly in front of you. She waited, patient and quiet, as you prepared another Long Island, your tongue sticking out in concentration.
“Hi, sorry for the wait. What can I—” You froze mid-sentence as your eyes met hers.
Recognition flickered across your face, followed by a flash of pain. Your expression changed into something cold, guarded.
“No.” Your tone was flat, final. “Please leave.”
Jimin didn’t flinch. Her gaze softened, a melancholic smile tugging at her lips. She didn’t respond, she couldn’t. Not yet, she only had one chance. All she knew was that seeing you here within an arms length, was enough to momentarily soothe the ache in her chest.
As much as you tried to suppress it, your heart betrayed you, fluttering at the sight of her. Jimin looked effortlessly stunning, her leather jacket rolled up to reveal familiar tattoos snaking down her forearm. She was exactly how you remembered and yet entirely different.
She stared at you for another moment, her silence unnerving. Her eyes brimmed with emotions you couldn’t understand. Finally, Jimin rose to her feet, placed the pink box on the counter, and lightly squeezed your arm before turning to leave.
You stared at the box, stunned, your mind reeling. It was from your favorite bakery in Busan, the one she had driven hours to visit countless times when you were together. Your chest tightened as you realized the lengths she must’ve gone to for this gesture.
But you couldn’t let yourself fall for her again. Not this time.
“I’ll be right back!” you yelled to your coworker, grabbing the box as you stormed out of the bistro.
The cold November air bit at your skin as you scanned the street for her.
You found her leaning against a lamppost, a cigarette dangling from her lips. The sight stopped you in your tracks. When had she started smoking again? Fury flared in your chest. You strode toward her, plucking the cigarette from her fingers and tossing it to the ground.
“What the hell, Jimin?” you snapped, glaring at her. “I thought you quit.”
She continued to stay silent, her dark eyes fixed on you as if trying to engrave your face in her memories.
Your anger wavered. You shouldn’t care. You couldn’t care. Not after everything. Shoving the pink box back into her hands, you hissed, “Don’t ever come to this bistro again.”
The words tasted bitter, and regret coiled in your stomach the moment they left your lips. But you couldn’t take them back. Not now.
Jimin nodded wordlessly, her lips curling into a soft, bittersweet smile—one that inexplicably cut deeper than any argument could. With that, she turned and walked away, disappearing into the cold night.
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It seemed after that night, Jimin had made it her mission to claw her way back into your life, whether you wanted her to or not. She didn’t speak, didn’t push, but her presence was always there, an unspoken reminder of everything you’d once shared.
You could feel her eyes on you during lunch, lingering from across the cafeteria as if she thought she could will you to look back. Even on your way to work, you swore you’d catch her silhouette in the distance, leaning against a lamppost or sitting on a nearby bench, always careful not to cross any boundaries but still there.
The weekends were no escape either. When AESPA was invited to perform at the school fair you unfortunately was in charge of organizing, it felt like fate, or perhaps Jimin, was mocking you. She stood front and center, capturing attention with her effortless charm, but every so often her eyes would search for yours in the crowd, a desperate glance that left you feeling raw and exposed.
What annoyed you most, though, was her silence. She never spoke to you, never tried to bridge the impossible gap between you. And yet, as much as it infuriated you, you hated to admit how much you missed her voice.
The way it would rasp slightly in the mornings when she whispered sweet nothings into your ear, or the confident drawl she carried when talking to others.
This Jimin, silent and unsure, almost timid, felt like a stranger. It was disarming, and you weren’t sure if you hated her for it or if it broke your heart just a little more.
As much as you tried to build walls around yourself, Jimin had a way of chipping at them, bit by bit, with gestures that felt achingly familiar.
One evening when you finally left the library, you found a gift on the hood of your car, neatly wrapped in brown paper and tied with twine, was a book you had mentioned loving once, years ago before you got together with her, a rare edition of poetry that you never got the chance to buy.
Tucked inside was a small card with her unmistakable handwriting:
For when you need an escape.– J
Your heart twisted painfully, remembering how she used to surprise you with little things like this, whether it was a book, a drink she knew you loved, or a random trinket that reminded her of you.
Another day, on your way home from a long shift, you found her waiting by the campus fountain. She didn’t approach, didn’t say anything, just held out a single stem of a sunflower, your favorite flower, the kind she used to bring to your dorm every time you aced an exam.
You wanted to yell at her, to demand why she was doing this now, but instead, you took the flower silently, clutching it tightly all the way home.
The memories came rushing back. The way she used to sit with you for hours in the library, pretending to study but really just stealing glances at you over the top of her books. How she’d wake up early to walk you to class, even if it meant cutting her own sleep short. The nights she stayed up late with you on the phone, talking about nothing and everything until you both fell asleep to the sound of each other's breathing.
Jimin knew exactly how to unravel you, and she was relentless in her quiet persistence.
Another day, after a particularly stressful day, you find yourself staring at a box left outside your apartment. Inside was a Slowpoke doll (you used to call her your SlowPoke because she was always running late and had a knack for falling asleep in random places) and a note:
I know how these made you feel like you weren’t good enough, but these are the things I love about you. All your interests, your little habits…don’t stop.
You shoved the box under your bed in a haze of shame and anger. You’d given up your obsession with Pokémon long ago, sacrificing that part of yourself just to appease her fans and their cruel remarks. But as the days stretched on, your resolve wavered. You caught yourself glancing at the box more often than you cared to admit, the memories flooding into your mind.
Eventually, you couldn’t help yourself. With a reluctant sigh, you pulled the Slowpoke doll from the box and placed it on your bed. That night, you held it close as you drifted off to sleep, comforted by a piece of the past you thought you’d lost.
Each gesture tugged at the guarded heart. You hated her for how easily she slipped back into your life, even as you found yourself clutching the flower she’d given you, rereading her notes late into the night, and biting your lip to suppress the warmth spreading in your chest.
You hated her, and yet, you couldn’t deny your feelings for her. You never could.
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You wrapped your scarf tightly around your neck, shielding yourself from the brisk evening wind as you waited for Minjeong outside the movie theater.
The newest Marvel movie had finally been released, and although you’d downplayed your excitement, your heart raced. Your lame obsession with Avengers had always been a sore spot, especially since Jimin’s fangirls used it to mock you mercilessly.
Over time, you tried to bury that part of yourself, to hide how much you still adored superheroes. It was easier than facing the ridicule—or the memories tied to it.
When Minjeong, your best friend since elementary school, asked if you wanted to see the movie, you hesitated at first. But her easy acceptance of your quirks had always been earnest, so you agreed.
The sound of tires crunching gravel pulled you from your thoughts, and you looked up to see a sleek black Mercedes pulling into the parking lot. Minjeong stepped out, her face drawn in a disgruntled scowl. She spotted you and quickly brightened, crossing the space in a few brisk strides before pulling you into a warm hug.
“Hey, Y/N-nie. Have you been waiting long?” she asked, her voice light, though her body was stiff against yours.
You shook your head, but something about her demeanor made you pause. Your gaze drifted back to the car, the sleek black exterior gleaming under the parking lot lights. A pit formed in your stomach as realization hit.
“Was that… Jimin?” you asked cautiously.
Minjeong froze. Her jaw tightened, her grip on your arms faltering slightly before she let out a resigned sigh. She avoided your eyes as she nodded.
“Yeah,” she admitted reluctantly.
“She’s the one who asked me to bring you here,” Minjeong added after a pause. Her tone was careful, measured, as though she were treading on thin ice. “She even bought the tickets beforehand.”
You blinked at her, stunned.
“I didn’t want to do it,” Minjeong continued quickly, frustration in her voice. “I told her this was a bad idea, but…” She trailed off, biting her lip as her gaze dropped to the ground.
“She was persistent.”
Your heart did a strange flip at that. You could almost picture Jimin sitting across from Minjeong, stubborn as ever, insisting that she take you to the movie. She must have known showing up herself would only push you away, so she found a way to make sure you’d still see it. It was so… Jimin. Thoughtful in a way that made your chest ache.
“She’s been doing things like this for weeks,” Minjeong muttered, almost to herself. “Little things. She thinks they’ll fix everything.” Her round eyes flickered with an anger she didn’t bother to hide.
“I told her to leave you alone. I told her you didn’t need her messing things up again.”
“She hasn’t been bothering me,” you said softly, reaching out to squeeze Minjeong’s hand in reassurance when her voice grew sharp.
“I promise, Jeongnie. She hasn’t done anything. Don’t worry.”
Minjeong’s shoulders sagged slightly, but her lips pressed into a tight line. “Has she talked to you yet?”
You shook your head. “No. Weirdly, she hasn’t said a word. Just… left some gifts every now and then.”
At that, Minjeong’s eyes widened, and she groaned, slapping her forehead.
“I’m so stupid,” she muttered, half to herself.
“What?” you asked, confused by her sudden exasperation.
She shook her head quickly, waving the question away. “Nothing. Come on, let’s go inside. The movie’s about to start.”
As she guided you toward the theater, her arm looped protectively through yours. Though Minjeong was close friends with the leader, it was clear she didn’t like Jimin trying to worm her way back into your life.
You could see it in the tightness of her jaw, the subtle furrow in her brow. She didn’t trust Jimin. Not her promises, not her intentions, and certainly not her ability to heal the wounds she’d caused. After all, it had been Minjeong who had patiently helped you piece yourself back together, bit by bit.
And yet, the fact that she’d brought you here today, using Jimin’s tickets, betrayed the tiny sliver of hope she held for her.
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This was the fifth time that day Jimin walked past the bistro, casually peering through the windows with her hands stuffed in her leather jacket pockets before walking away.
You watched her each time, fidgeting, kicking the ground with her boots, looking like she wanted to step inside but was holding back. It was endearing, not that you’d admit it. But every time, she chose to walk away, opting to follow your words from before instead.
It had begun to snow, and you couldn’t stop yourself from worrying.
“Stupid oaf,” you muttered, before slipping outside to call out Jimin’s name.
She was already on her sixth round of circling the bistro, her slender figure blending into the gray snowfall.
“Yoo Jimin!” You called, your breath forming a cloud in the cold air.
The raven-haired girl stopped in her tracks, her shoulders stiffening before she slowly turned around to look at you. A nervous grin tugged at her lips, and your heart fluttered involuntarily.
“Just…just come in.” You sighed, avoiding her gaze.
Jimin’s face lit up, her eyes sparkling with glee like a little kid as she quickly made her way over.
You led her through the busy bistro, past the tables full of customers, to the counter, exactly where she had sat the first time she came. You couldn’t help but feel self-conscious at the way she was staring at you, her face resting in her palms, eyes wide and starry.
Sighing, you pushed the menu to her. “What do you want to order?”
Jimin merely looked at you, a silly smile gracing her lips. Your eyes flickered to it, momentarily lost in the soft curve of her mouth and her luscious lips, before quickly looking away.
“Fine.” You mumbled, quickly pouring her a cup of warm coffee.
Fortunately, you were distracted by the steady stream of orders. It was a Saturday night, after all, and that meant people were coming in for drinks. You were busy making drinks, serving them, but with Jimin there, it felt different, lighter, happier.
That was when Joon, a usual customer and a tall, blurry figure, stumbled over to the counter, clearly drunk. You tensed instantly. Joon was always handsy when he drank, more often than not, and you always tried to stay out of his way.
“Y/NNNNN,” he slurred, leaning way too close for comfort, his breath heavy on the counter.
Jimin’s eyes narrowed, and you saw the muscles in her jaw clench.
“I missed you,” Joon continued, leaning forward, his gaze lingering in a way that made your stomach churn.
“How about we go on a date? My place is just around the corner.”
“I’m not interested, Joon.” You pushed back, trying to create some space. “Please, leave me alone.”
Joon’s expression twisted into something more sinister, his hand suddenly reaching over the counter to grab your arm, his fingers digging into your skin. You winced at the pressure, red marks forming on your arm as he held you tight.
That’s when Jimin had had enough. She stood up, towering over him, her height equal to his, but with a quiet strength that commanded attention.
“Get. Your. Hands. Off. Her.” Her voice was cold, and before you could react, she pushed Joon off, sending him stumbling backward into the wall.
Joon recovered quickly and swung at Jimin, narrowly missing her face by a hair. You stepped forward, panic flooding your chest, quickly pulling Jimin away from him.
“Let it go, Jimin,” you urged, your voice shaky as you tugged her close to you. “Please, stop.”
Jimin hesitated, her eyes softening as she looked at you. She reached down and gently cradled the arm that Joon had grabbed, her cold fingers brushing over the tender skin, sending a shiver up your spine.
“I’m okay,” you said, trying to reassure her.
She looked like she was about to say something when a yell from your coworkers snapped your attention back to the scene. You turned just in time to see Joon charging forward, having managed to break free from the grip of your coworkers. His fist collided with Jimin’s temple with a sickening crunch, and she crumpled to the floor.
You screamed, panic rising as onlookers rushed to contain Joon. Jimin lay motionless, and you immediately knelt by her side, heart racing.
“Jimin?” You screamed, rushing to her side. The blood had already begun to trickle down her temple, and a bruise was swelling rapidly.
You knelt beside her, panic clawing at your chest. “Jimin? Baby? Please, wake up.”
You cupped her pale face in your trembling hands, her skin cool against your palms. She was so still, and it terrified you.
After a few moments of desperate attempts to rouse her, her eyelids finally fluttered open, and you let out a shaky breath of relief.
“Oh thank god,” you sighed out in relief, your chest tightening as her eyelids slowly fluttered open.
“Jimin? Can you hear me?”
Her cheeks were squished as your hands cupped her face. You might have found it cute if you weren’t so worried. Her dazed expression and the way her chubby cheeks puffed out only made your heart ache more.
“Am I dreaming?” she asked, a dopey smile still lingering on her lips.
You leaned back, running a hand through your hair in relief and exasperation.
“No, Jimin,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “You just got punched. This is very real.”
Her grin faltered in realization. Her eyes widened in horror as she scrambled to sit up.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she muttered, groaning in embarrassment, her hands shooting up to touch her tender forehead.
“Please forget I said anything. Please.”
She couldn’t believe that she wasted her only chance, her only sentence, just to ask her if you were real.
You reached out, gently stopping her from touching her injury. “Don’t touch. You’re bleeding.”
Your manager let you leave early after apologizing repeatedly to Jimin. After all, one of the biggest rising stars had just been injured in his bistro.
Jimin smiled good-naturedly and shrugged off his apologies, clearly not phased. She had refused to go to the hospital for a check-up, and unable to stop yourself, you found yourself driving her back to your apartment.
You promised yourself this was a one-time thing, that you were just being a caring, responsible friend. Anyone would’ve done the same for her, right?
As you led her into your room, she glanced around, the familiar space tugging at something in her heart. Her eyes landed on her sweatshirt that she had lost so long ago, still draped casually over the chair.
She noticed the absence of the photos on your vanity mirror, ones that once captured all the memories of the two of you. But, then, her gaze softened as it settled on the SlowPoke doll still sitting on your bed. Her heart skipped a beat. You had kept it.
You still cared, even if you seemed so distant, so far away.
Maybe, just maybe, you hadn't forgotten her love.
You paused in your tracks as you saw Jimin poking at the SlowPoke on your bed. You turned a brilliant shade of pink, flustered, before quickly ushering her to sit down so you could tend to her wound.
"Don't move," you muttered, your voice softer than you intended as you reached up gingerly to disinfect the cut on her temple.
She winced and hissed in pain but didn’t pull away, remaining still, her dark eyes never leaving your face. The closeness of your bodies was unnerving, her skin so warm under your touch, and that tight white shirt she wore, showing off her tattoos, only added to the flurry of thoughts rushing through your head.
Why did she have to be so damn beautiful?
Jimin, on the other hand, couldn’t take her eyes off you. The softness in your eyes and the gentleness of your touch, was making her heart race. She wasn’t sure if she'd ever have this chance again.
"Why are you doing this, Jimin?" you asked, your voice coming out a little more strained than you'd planned, your hands trembling as you applied a thin layer of medicine.
Jimin’s brows furrowed in confusion. "Doing what?"
"All this," you said, motioning between the two of you. "Not talking to me, but following me around... giving me gifts..."
Jimin paused, taking a deep breath, before saying, “I wanted to make you remember.”
“Remember what?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper as you finished applying the medicine.
She let out a small breath, trying to steady herself. "Remember us."
She looked down at her hands, then back up at you, her voice growing quieter, more vulnerable. "And... make you remember my love for you."
You froze, your hands retreating from her face as your heart pounded in your chest. You searched her eyes, so open, so full of regret and hope.
And in that moment, you knew you still loved her too.
"Jimin..." You tried to form words, but your throat was tight, the emotions threatening to spill over. “I-“
Before you could finish, Jimin quickly knelt beside the bed, gently cradling your hand in hers and placing it in your lap.
“Please, give me another chance, Y/N,” she begged, the tears she had been holding back finally breaking free.
"These past few months without you have been... miserable. I know I hurt you. I know I lost myself, but I promise, I won’t let this happen again. I love everything about you, your softness, your quirky obsessions... everything. I’m sorry I didn’t reassure you when you were doubting yourself, or protect you from the hate.”
She took a shaky breath, and in a voice barely above a whisper, she said, “I don’t think I could ever love anyone as much as I love you.”
Your heart clenched, the weight of her words crashing over you. The pain you had felt for so long, the loneliness that had settled deep in your soul, began to break. You missed her, but you're scared, so scared. Scared of trusting her again, scared of the hurt she could cause, scared of how much power she held over you.
“You hurt me, Jimin. So much,” you said softly, unable to keep the pain from your voice. “I don’t know if I can trust you.”
Jimin nodded, her face softening with understanding, though the sadness in her eyes remained. But she wasn’t giving up.
“I know,” she said, her voice steady. “But I will spend the rest of my life earning back your trust.”
And in that moment, with everything on the line, you finally gave in.
“Okay.”
“Okay?” Her eyes widened, and that smile, so hopeful, so full of warmth, spread across her angelic face.
“Yes, Jimin. One chance.” You whispered, your heartbeat thudding loudly in your ears.
“Yes!” Jimin punched the air lamely, her eyes sparkling as she grabbed your hand, pulling you up effortlessly.
Before you could even react, she spun you around in a twirl, making you let out a small scream in surprise. The sudden rush of laughter filled the room as you both stumbled and collapsed onto the bed, her arms immediately wrapping around you.
.
.
.
.
The soft thud of Jimin’s heartbeat was lulling you to sleep, a comforting rhythm that calmed your racing thoughts. You gently traced the ink on her forearms, each line and curve filled with her memories. Her steady breathing was a lullaby, peaceful and steady, as you cuddled up to her.
After tending to her injury, you had given her a change of clothes, and let her stay the night. She refused to let go of you, her arms wrapped tightly around you, her lips pressing soft, affectionate kisses to your forehead. It was a strange feeling, like nothing could go wrong in that moment.
For the first time in months, your heart felt whole again, free of the old pain that had lingered too long.
But then, a thought crept into your mind. Gently, you pulled away slightly, your eyes meeting the beautiful dancer’s.
She whined, unhappy at the space between you. You laughed softly, seeing the playful pout on her lips. Outside, she was fierce, confident, and intimidating even, but here, in front of you, she was just a clingy baby.
“I wanted to ask,” you began, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear, “Why did you want me to forget about what you said at the bistro? When you told me to forget it?”
A faint pink blush spread across her cheeks, and she shifted uncomfortably, not meeting your eyes.
"It was because..." she trailed off, her voice hesitant, and you gently cupped her chin, forcing her gaze to meet yours.
“Because of what?”
"Because Minjeong said I could only talk to you once. One sentence. If you reacted badly, I would have to leave your life for good," Jimin admitted, looking away in embarrassment.
"I couldn’t believe I wasted that one sentence on asking if you were real. I was scared Minjeong would beat me up if you got mad."
You stared at her in disbelief. "That was why you refused to speak to me?"
Jimin nodded, her lips twisting into a sheepish smile.
"You’re so fucking stupid, Jimin," you muttered under your breath, shaking your head, though a fond smile tugged at your lips.
"Thank god you’re good at dancing, or else I’d be worried about your future."
"Hey!" she whined, pushing you playfully. "I’m not stupid! It’s just... Minjeong is scary when she’s mad."
Unable to hold back your endearment for this stupid lovable girl, you finally leaned down to press your lips to hers.
Jimin froze, marveling at the feel of your soft lips against hers. She had been dreaming about this moment for so long, and she quickly kissed you back with just as much enthusiasm. The kiss was soft at first, tentative before it deepened following the quickening of your heart beats.
When the air between you became a problem, you both pulled away, gasping for breath, but neither of you made a move to break the closeness. Your foreheads rested together, and for a moment, you just smiled into the space between your lips.
“What did you plan to say then?” You whispered, still breathless from the kiss, “The sentence.”
“Oh, I was going to say: Look at this cool tattoo I got.” She said mischievously, before sitting up and pulling off her shirt, leaving herself in nothing but a bra top.
You blushed immediately, eyes instinctively flicking to the defined muscles of her abs as she twisted to show you the back of her shoulders. For a moment, you couldn’t help but be distracted by the way her muscles flexed before your gaze landed on a small patch of ink on the corner of her right shoulder.
“You got a tattoo of a Charmander?” you sputtered, almost disbelieving.
“Yeah, it’s cute, right?” Jimin grinned, proud of herself.
“It reminded me of you. You have the same eyes as Charmander. And also, it’s your favorite Pokémon, so it’s a win-win.”
“Jimin, my favorite Pokémon is Chikorita…” you sighed, shaking your head in exasperation.
“Chikorita.” She repeated, her lips pursing in thought. “Not Charmander?”
“Not Charmander.”
She thought for a second, then shrugged with a grin. “At least it looks like you.”
Unable to contain yourself any longer, you grabbed the collar of her top and pulled her into another kiss, one that made her remember that you were definitely hers.
got a bit carried away so some scenes kinda dragged out 😬
but hope you all enjoyed this loserish version of jimin!
#karina x reader#yoo jimin x reader#aespa x reader#gxg#kpop fanfic#kpop imagines#wlw#kpop#angst#fluff oneshot#wherethefireliliesgrow#angst fic#fluff#kpop fic#karina#aespa#one shot#fem reader#yoo jimin#yu jimin#wlw concepts#aespa x fem reader#aespa karina#girl group#female reader#kpop x reader#kpop gg
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okay because I'm seeing some misinfo, here's the story on the Key Bridge collapse
What was the Key Bridge?
The Francis Scott Key Bridge (also called the Key Bridge, the Beltway Bridge, and the Outer Harbor Crossing) was steel-arch continuous-through-truss bridge spanning the Patapsco River south of the Baltimore Harbor. The bridge took 5 years to build and cost an estimated $145 million ($735 million in today's dollars). The full bridge project (including approaches) was 10.9 miles long, but the stretch over the Patapsco was 1.6 miles long and 4 lanes wide, and comprised a length of I-695, the Baltimore Beltway. It traveled between Hawkins Point and Dundalk, and in addition to the I-895 Harbor Tunnel was the primary way for Marylanders to cross from the Eastern Shore to the West. The bridge carried an estimated 11.5 million vehicles per year. There is a lane for ships to pass under the Key Bridge with enough clearance.
Was it structurally sound?
The bridge received its latest inspection in 2022 and received a 6/9 score, which is considered "fair" by federal standards. There was a concern with one of its columns, which was downgraded from a health index of 77.8 to 65.9, but it is not clear yet if this was one of the columns struck by the ship. In 1980 the bridge was struck by a different cargo ship which destroyed a concrete support structure, but the bridge itself was unharmed. There is as of yet no evidence that the bridge collapsed because of poor condition. Experts say the lesson to be learned is about the size and weight of modern cargo ships, and that the bridge was not to blame. Engineers have noted, however, that the bridge's piers lacked protective devices such as fenders.
What was the ship?
The MV Dali is a container ship flying the Singapore flag. It is owned by Grace Ocean Private Ltd. and operated by Synergy Marine Group Ltd. The ship is currently being chartered by Maersk, a Dutch shipping company. It was built in 2015 by Hyundai. The ship is 980 feet long and 157 feet wide. The ship's gross tonnage (its internal volume) is 95,128 tons (190,256,000 pounds). Its deadweight (the weight of cargo it can carry) is 116,851 tons (233,702,000 pounds). The ship was carrying 3,000 containers. The engine is a MAN-B&W 9S90ME putting out 41,480 kilowatts (55,626 horsepower).
Over its lifetime the Dali has been inspected 27 times, and only 2 faults were ever found. On June 27, 2023 the Dali was held in port in Chile due to an issue with the propulsion system. According to an inspector the pressure gauges on the heating system were "unreadable". The fault was fixed before the ship left port.
The Dali is crewed by 22 Indian nationals including 2 maritime pilots.
What happened?
The Dali arrived at the Port of Baltimore on March 23, 2024. At 12:44 AM on March 26, 2024 the Dali left port, beginning its journey to Colombo, Sri Lanka. At 01:26 AM the ship suffered a "complete blackout" and began to drift out of the shipping lane. It is not yet known what caused the electrical failure. The backup generator did not power the propulsion system. At around 01:26 AM the crew of the Dali sent a mayday distress call to the Maryland Department of Transportation (MDOT) informing them of the loss of power and that a collision with the Key Bridge was possible. The anchors were dropped as an emergency measure to attempt to slow or stop the vessel. At the request of one of the pilots traffic flow over the bridge was immediately halted. Black smoke was seen coming from the Dali, which experts believe was the result of the crew managing to restart the power system to regain some maneuvering capability.
At 01:28 AM the Dali, traveling at 8 knots (considered to be a fast speed) collided with a support strut beneath the Key Bridge's metal truss at the southwest end of the bridge. A Baltimore resident said he heard the collision and that it "felt like an earthquake". Emergency teams began receiving 911 calls at 01:30 AM, and the Baltimore Police Department were alerted at 01:35 AM. One of the officers present radioed that he was going to go onto the bridge to alert the construction crew as soon as a second officer arrived, but the bridge collapsed seconds later.
What was the damage?
The Key Bridge has completely collapsed. The metal truss relies on structural tension from the bridge itself to maintain its rigidity. As soon as one of the support columns was destroyed, the rest of the bridge quickly followed.
The damage to the Dali is reported as minimal. The ship was impaled by the bridge's structure above the waterline, but has maintained watertight integrity. The crew has not reported any water contamination from its 1.8 million gallons of marine fuel. 13 containers carrying potentially hazardous material were damaged, and are being inspected by a team of Coast Guard divers. At least 5 vehicles including 3 passenger cars and a cement mixer were detected underwater, but authorities do not believe they were occupied
Who was hurt?
The crew of the Dali reports no casualties, except one crewmember who was hospitalized for minor injuries. There was a crew of 8 construction workers on the Key Bridge filling in potholes. 2 were immediately pulled from the water by rescue crews, with 1 being rushed to emergency care and the other reporting minor injuries and refusing treatment. The hospitalized worker has since been discharged. 1 of those rescued was Mexican. The remaining 6 remain missing. Of those 6, 2 have been identified:
Miguel Luna from El Salvador
Maynor Yassir Suazo Sandoval from Honduras
Of the remaining 4, 2 are Guatemalan nationals. Neither have been identified, but the Guatemalan Foreign Affairs Ministry has stated that they were a 26-year-old from San Luis, Petén, and a 35-year-old from Camotán, Chiquimula. The other 2 are presumed to be Mexican.
Rescue Efforts
The Coast Guard was immediately deployed for search-and-rescue operations. Military Blackhawk helicopters were seen over the river. Rescue efforts were ended at 07:30 PM on March 26, 2024 due to darkness, fog, and cold temperatures. Rear Admiral Shannon Gilreath said "Based on the length of time that we've gone in the search, the extensive search efforts that we put into it, the water temperature -- at this point, we do not believe that we're going to find any of these individuals still alive". Recovery operations resumed at 07:30 AM on March 27, 2024 with all 6 workers presumed dead.
No divers have yet entered the water underneath the bridge. Supervisory Special Agent Brian Hudson of the FBI's Underwater Search and Evidence Response Team said "the debris field is pretty sizable and I know that’s why they’re hesitant to send divers down because some of the debris is still shifting, the heavy weight of the rocks". The FBI has deployed Remotely Operated Vehicles (ROVs) equipped with cameras and SONAR.
Aftermath
At 05:08 AM on March 26, 2024 Transportation Secretary Pete Buttegiege posted on X (formerly Twitter):
"I’ve spoken with Gov. Moore and Mayor Scott to offer USDOT’s support following the vessel strike and collapse of the Francis Scott Key bridge. Rescue efforts remain underway and drivers in the Baltimore area should follow local responder guidance on detours and response."
At 07:30 AM on March 27, 2024 President of the Maryland State Senate Bill Ferguson posted on X (formerly Twitter):
"Over 15,000 in the Balt region rely on daily operations at Port of Baltimore to put food on the table. Today, with Del. @LukeClippinger and colleagues representing Port, we are drafting an emergency bill to provide for income replacement for workers impacted by this travesty."
At around 09:40 AM on March 26, 2024 Maryland Governor Wes Moore and Baltimore Mayor Brandon Scott declared a State of Emergency to take effect at 10:30 AM March 26, 2024, and to last 30 days. Baltimore's Emergency Operations Plan was put into effect.
More than 1,000 personnel from the US Army Corps of Engineers (USACE) have been deployed to assist with clearing the debris and rebuilding efforts. President Joe Biden has pledged that the federal government will pay for the entire reconstruction of the bridge.
Jennifer Homendy, the chair of the National Transportation Safety Board (NTSB) has recovered the Dali's data recorder, and will be inspecting both the Key Bridge and the Dali to determine the cause of the crash and the collapse. She says the investigation could take up to 2 years to complete.
Was it intentional?
According to William DelBagno, head of the FBI's Baltimore field office: "There is no specific or credible information to suggest there are ties to terrorism in this incident".
Secretary of Homeland Security Alejandro Mayorkas said: "There are no indications this was an intentional act".
At least 3 people have been killed in accidents related to ships operated by Synergy in the past 6 years. In 2018 a person on board a Synergy ship in Australia was killed in an accident relating to the vessel's personnel elevator. In 2019 an officer aboard a Synergy vessel in Singapore fell overboard while performing maintenance. In 2023 at least one sailor was killed when a Synergy ship collided with a dredging ship in the Philippines. In the first two cases safety inspectors noted that proper safety procedures had not been adhered to.
Sources
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7
#atlas entry#this is still a developing story but all the information herein is accurate and current at time of publishing#baltimore#baltimore bridge collapse#francis scott key bridge#key bridge#I spent an hour collating all this info please give it a reblog
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“Hey Ranger! Is that a California Condor or a Turkey Vulture?”
Well, let’s take a closer look! In the summertime, it can be hard to tell the difference between a condor and a turkey vulture, especially as they soar above you! (Or below you, if you’re on Angels Landing). The bird on the right is definitely a condor, and here are a few ways to tell: Condors are BIG! They have a ten-foot wingspan, the widest of all the birds in the United States. Notice the number on their wing? Each condor has their own number to help scientists recognize and keep track of the condors they spot. Their wings are white towards their center, and their feathers are black out towards the end of their wings. You guessed it, the bird on the left is a turkey vulture! Turkey vultures are quite large birds, but their wingspan is typically around 5.5 feet long. In flight, turkey vultures will have a slight “v” in their wings when looking at them from straight on. Condor wings are generally straight out when they are in flight. Turkey vulture wings are darker in the middle and the feathers are white toward the ends of their wings. Though they are different birds, both are critically important in Zion National Park. Their food source is carrion, or dead and decaying meat (you could say they are the ultimate clean up crew). Since decomposition takes much longer in the harsh desert, having scavengers is a great way to keep the area looking (and smelling) nice. What are ways you can protect these important animals?
Learn more about the California Condor recovery story at:
https://www.nps.gov/zion/learn/nature/condors.htm
NPS Photo: Gavin Emmons
via: Zion National Park
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The Jade Ghost
Blue Spirit Zuko x Bloodbender Reader
This story is completely different to what I usually do, but I've been watching Avatar: The Last Airbender lately and really hope ya'll love Zuko as much as I do.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was insufferable. Zuko, the crowned prince of the fire nation, was now a fugitive and stuck in some sort of village begging for spare change on the ground with Uncle Iroh. If that wasn't embarrassing enough, those who decided to mock him and his uncle made it all the more worse, the deep, unsettling anger within him turning into an unhinged rage. So he waited.
And when the sun would set and the darkness came to help hide Zuko's doings, he adorned his blue mask. The oxtail sabers in each hand felt good, like he'd gained some sort of control over his situation. Then he'd prowl through the night as though he was a ghost. The Blue Spirit. Taking change and food from those that looked like they had enough, or taking revenge on those that had mocked him or his uncle. He'd swiftly managed to throw one of the men that spat at Iroh into a wooden barrel. Splinters decorated the floor as well as the change the man had taken from them earlier in the day. Zuko grabbed the gold pieces and slipped them into his pocket. As he turned down the street, an opulent looking home being his next target, a blurred figure metres before him quickly caught his attention.
Zuko ducked his head to the side, just missing a dagger as it found its home in the wooden beam beside his head. Zuko turned on his heel to see three hooded men coming his way, armed and ferocious. He was able to swiftly disarm the first thug, throwing him into the wall of a nearby home. The other two put up a better fight. Zuko was focused on pinning the second ones arms, given he happened to be an Earthbender, but focusing his attention on the man almost made him forget the third thug. As Zuko turned and expected the blow to his head, something glinted in the air. Flashed as quick as a light. A swoosh sound came after it and the third man hit the ground hard.
Zuko dealt a devastating strike to the Earthbender before training his attention onto another person. Someone new. Adorned in an emerald green robe, her hair was pulled back into a tight bun, a single gold chop stick running through it. Her face, however, was concealed. An immaculate mask that looked as though it was carved from jade sat on her face, a mask almost similar to Zuko's. Steady eyes watched the third man through the jade mask as she spun a long, gold staff between her fingers. Her eyes flickered up to Zuko though, and he barely caught what she said. "Behind you."
The Earthbender was on his feet and tore two large boulders from the pavement either side of him. Zuko slipped past each boulder as they were thrown at him. After that, Zuko's next movements were a blur as he, the two thugs, and the Jade Ghost all fought relentlessly. She seemed to be helping, so he let her help...for now.
The Earthbender managed to get his first hit of the night and knocked both Zuko and the Jade Ghost to the ground. Zuko was on his feet, ready to attack yet again, but then something happened. Something odd. Something Zuko couldn't explain.
The Earthbender's arms twitched before they tangled together. Then, with an agonising cry he dropped to the ground. Zuko's eyes cut over to the girl that laid beside him. Focus was evident in her eyes as she manoeuvred her hands in a fascinating way. Hand flat, resting in the centre of her face before she lowered her arm and moved it in a wave like formation. Zuko clutched onto his sabers. Felt his hot, laboured breath against his mask. The Earthbender suddenly fell unconscious...and then Zuko realised.
Bloodbending.
The Jade Ghost panted as she got to her feet and picked up her staff. Turning to run, she was met with the ocean blue dragon mask. He was tall, dressed in black, ready for a confrontation as he gripped onto his sabers. The Jade Ghost just stopped herself before bumping into him.
"Who are you?" He asked, tone severe.
"Hey, I'm not asking you questions. Am I?"
"I suggest you answer." He threatened.
"Listening, I've been watching you. You're not bad...you've helped a lot of my people whilst wearing your little mask. Like me. So how about this..."
She slipped down an alleyway and with the shake of his head, Zuko quickly followed. She didn't want a confrontation, not when the sun was soon to rise and she didn't see the man in the mask as a threat.
As she sprinted and took the chance to look over her shoulder, relief spread through her chest. The Blue Spirit wasn't there. But suddenly, he was jumping down from a nearby roof. He grabbed onto her as he dropped down, and the pair tumbled over the ground before coming to a stop. The Jade Ghost tried her staff before it was knocked from her hands. Then, she resorted to using hand-to-hand combat. The strikes were fast and precise, but Zuko was just as fast and precise as her. She slipped his arm behind his back and put him in a hold before he broke out and pinned her against the wall.
Masks centimetres from each other, he leant in to ask another question.
"That was bloodbending, wasn't it?"
"Wanna find out?" She hissed.
His determination faltered. They stood and watched each other, and Zuko felt something he couldn't ignore. What was it? Was he impressed? Was he admiring her? He almost wanted to hit his head against the wall.
Suddenly, a light, green dust was thrown into his face. An irritable itch began in his eyes as he quickly let go of her. And just like that, she slipped away into the night. Just like a ghost. As he tried to search for her, Zuko quickly became annoyed. Dumbfounded. Curious.
Zuko made it back to the sorry place him and his uncle were calling 'home' for a while, hiding his mask and sabers inside of a deep crevice in the house they were staying in.
"Where did you go?" Iroh asked, sipping his fourth cup of tea as he watched his nephew angrily enter the room. The sun was filtering into the room, it's beams warm and welcoming.
"I had to clear my head. Tell me uncle, do you know anything about the Jade Ghost?"
"The Jade Ghost? Hmm," His uncle stroked his beard as he sifted through his memories. "Nope, never heard of him."
"Her." Zuko corrected as he stared out the window and wondered where she went. Who she was. How she learnt to bloodbend.
"Until next time Jade Ghost."
#prince zuko#atla zuko#zuko#zuko x reader#zuko x y/n#zuko imagine#avatar fandom#avatar the last airbender
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I loved your parent Arle headcanons ahh <33
May I request something similar but instead it’s oneshot Arle finding out fem reader is pregnant? I was thinking reader is a harbinger too and they both find out together while on a mission in another nation but it’s up to you !
with you.
Pairings: arlecchino x fem!reader
CW: sfw, moderately but also slightly suggestive, female reader, pregnant reader, arle referred to as husband, wlw, GIRLS KISSING OH MY GOD?? it’s their biological child bro don’t even ask how don’t ask and just hc whatever u want there’s like baby magic, arle’s real name mentioned blah blah yk this, harbinger reader, mention of sex, fluff, lazy writing toward the end, not proofread.
A/N: I want to write so badly but my homework says no anyway guys my brain loves cooking so much omg also my tea tastes EXTRA good today—update the second half was done the next day I have no tea :(…actually I’m just too lazy to get the giant jug out of the fridge and I’m finishing this so I can go get bubble tea instead lol🕯️
Heaps of fluffed blankets bunched up at the edge of the bed, messily piled below yours and Arlecchino’s feet. Her hand was draped over your loosely covered shoulder, the black gradient trailing up her arms contrasting with your skin dimly brightened by the illuminating candle filling the room. Small shivers surged through every vein of your body as you slumbered, stomach churning as you felt your muscles tense roughly even in your sleep. Arlecchino carefully blinked one eye open, her cross marked eyes eyeing your scrunched up expression of discomfort.
Soft fabric of your undershirt brushed along your shoulder decorated with goosebumps blistered across your skin, the shoulder strap of your undershirt sliding a bit lower past your shoulder as her hand brushed up and down to ridge along the blooming bumps decorating your skin. The constant jabs continued to rack your body over and over, a swelling ache seeming to stiffen every joint in your body and making you stir in your curled fetal position. Hunching your shoulders, you rolled over onto your side once more, the tip of your nose lightly grazing Arlecchino’s neck.
Honestly, couldn’t even think up a single reason why your body continuously harbored a pang of soreness spread through every small compartment of your body. It had initially crept in as a few light cramps, starting off bearable and only irritating you every now and then. Musing all the possibilities, you shrugged off the periodic stings stabbing at your abdomen as muscle cramps or mild injuries from your mission. After all, mild injuries weren’t anything of concern to a harbinger of your status.
Ever since you had been dispatched on a mission along with the Knave, or rather your dear husband Arlecchino, everything had gone smoothly up until the present. The two of you had carried out the Tsaritsa’s orders accordingly, and found a lavish inn to stay the night at in order to replenish your strength. Golden light shadowed across the hall endlessly, the bright glows of the looming chandelier swinging back and forth carefully above your head gave quite the nice impression of the inn the two of you had come across. After all, you deserved a nice, opulent stay for a night after getting through a tedious mission around the outskirts of Snezhnaya.
Even now as you looked back on it, the receptionist’s expression didn’t make much sense as she slid a polished room key across the wooden table in your direction, the quiet grate of steel on wood bristling across the wood in sync with her morphed smirk. You simply exchanged confused glances with Arlecchino, who was equally puzzled with the receptionist’s words of: “I wonder if the Fatui shake entire rooms…have fun in there!”
Of course you could shake entire rooms, you had one of the highest rankings that any member of the Fatui could bear.
You and Arlecchino stepped foot into the warmly lit room, a comfortable bed with draped silk covers spilling off the sides situated square in the middle along with a spruce bedside table and porcelain decorations standing proud on the other desk tables across the room. Sure enough, the lighting clearly wasn’t the only thing in the room that was warm. Your body was suddenly flooded with an unshakable heat, raising the temperature of your neckline as pores of sweat accumulated at the base of your neck. The faint scent of jasmine grazing your nostrils was too strong to ignore, enveloping you in a sense of fervor and mild passion. And surely enough, Arlecchino was affected too.
The next thing you knew, the two of you basked in the dimmed lights and gentle air tickling your skin within the cold darkness, movements intensifying as you took in each other’s unclothed form. Arlecchino clawed at your side with each breath you drew in, nails raking along your plush hips as the two of you were lost in the thick heat clouding the atmosphere around the two of you.
By the next morning, you both continued with your day, heading back to the Fatui’s headquarters as if this was a normal occurrence between you two. Upon creaking open the heavy doors to the Tsaritsa’s well furnished chambers, you and Arlecchino had knelt before the Cryo Archon, the black fluff of the coat’s neckline feathering against your cheek with each sway of wind slipping in through the small crack of the opened window.
A near frustrated groan came dangerously close to pushing past your lips as the Tsaritsa commanded a mission for the two of you once more, ordering you both to take care of matters somewhere around Fontaine once again. Of course, you two couldn’t deny a mission from the Cryo Archon. It was significantly less tedious compared to the one you had just returned from, so why not?
However, as you and Arlecchino wavered through the sea parting the way to Fontaine, you couldn’t shake off a gnawing sense of nausea clawing at your belly as the ship rocked along the currents. A few droplets of ocean water trickled onto the ship, the clear liquid stilled on the edge of the boat as it seemed to glare at you despite being a mere inanimate state of matter. Your mind couldn’t help but race with unnerving possibilities shrieking like a parasitic voice thickly buzzing around your skull. You had clearly never felt so agitated before, nor paranoid over seemingly nothing.
“(Name). Seriously, are you alright?”
Ah. Peruere’s firm, yet collected tone always washed a sweet comfort over you. Especially when she seemingly showed concern over your well being.
You simply nodded, palm running along your side in circular motions as a way to soothe the throbbing pain which thankfully subsided a few solid moments later. By the time you were already in Fontaine, the pain was almost always present. You began vomiting quite frequently, often removing yourself from diplomatic relations to go throw up somewhere else. If not that, then you sure as hell were drowsy 24/7, feeling like you were about to break and collapse onto the earth at any moment.
In this very moment as you huddled into Arlecchino’s neck, you drew in a sharp breath quickly as your hand rested atop hers, which was currently thumbing at the strap of your undershirt. Her sweet scent momentarily distracted you from the ache in your stomach growing to pester you every moment of the day? Sure, they stopped, but it felt as if something was landing blows on your gut from the inside, kicking vigorously at your swollen stomach. Thankfully, Arlecchino finally arose beside you, her body tilted forward as she sat upright groggily. The soft hue of the dimmed lights warmed the tone of your face, your drained expression on full view for her to see.
She simply quirked an eyebrow in concern. She was aware you could handle yourself, yet your fatigued form couldn’t help but fill her with a sense of worry upon seeing you stir in supposed pain. The past week had plagued her mind with constant anticipation and uncertainty about you, wondering if she should contact the doctor situated not too far from your accommodations in Fontaine’s main city.
“About 3 weeks, Miss (Name).” The doctor replied, pressing his forefinger down onto the middle of his glasses to lower them as his eyes glided along the scribbled paperwork in his hand. You blinked in surprise, hand resting on your own thigh as an awkward silence fogged the room for what felt like centuries. Carefully, you rose to your feet as to not exert yourself too much, before delivering a thankful wave to the doctor who examined you. Swallowing down the nervous rise piling in your chest, you creaked the door open to exit the office, mind racing with what Arlecchino’s reaction would be.
Would she be happy? Upset? What if she isn’t ready to have any children with you in particular? Would she feel tied down?
The pestering questions continued to eat away at you as you slowly paced to your quarters, growingly anxious about how she would react to such major information being dropped onto her. You simply shook your head as you reached the foot of your shared room, shaky hand resting upon the doorknob. It didn’t matter how she reacted. You were 3 weeks pregnant and that was for sure, it was just a matter of what the two of you would agree to do.
As you turned the doorknob with a soft click, creaking open the door, your body suddenly felt heavy and sluggish. Each trudge forward felt like you were opposing gravity when you set your foot down in a single step. Arlecchino was situated on the bed, sitting on the edge as she remained lost in thought while tracing her own cursed hands. She didn’t take long to notice you, and her head snapped up to meet your gaze once she caught sight of your form standing at the corner of the wall.
“Ah. Love. How did the visit go?” She inquired, her voice gentle and soothing. You felt frozen in your spot, staring at her like an unmoving stone statue as your fists opened and closed slowly. By this point, your hands piled up a small amount of sweat between them as you clasped your fingers close, breaths coming out slowly in your perception.
“Arle, I’m pregnant.”
The atmosphere of the room was stunned just as silent as it was when the doctor revealed the same information to you, your anticipation growing as Arlecchino stood up and started walking toward you. You began fidgeting with your own hands, thumbs slipping against each other as her tall stature slowly drew closer and closer to you. Within seconds, she was right in front of you, hands raising to rest onto your shoulders gently.
“What do you want to do with the child, my love?”
You found yourself almost immediately relaxing, tense muscles resting upon hearing her sweet tone brushing against your ears. It was as if the world around you slowly cleared your vision, alluring you into Arlecchino’s arms as she wrapped you into a soft hug. Her blackened hands pressed along your back in circular motions, massaging you comfortingly as her lips ghosted over the shell of your ear.
“I…was thinking of keeping it.”
Arlecchino simply smiled, a rare occurrence that crossed upon her expression…unless she was with you. Her arms hemmed around your waist carefully, drawing you in against her chest as she rested her chin onto the top of your head. She simply let out a quiet hum in response, closing her eyes to rest against you. You followed suit, closing your own eyes slowly as you relaxed in Arlecchino’s grip.
“Very well. We’ll finally be able to be at peace together.”
A/N: I am sorry BUR IM SO SKEEPY RN IM NOT GONNA BOTHER ANYMORE WITH THE END IM SORRY
#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#wlw#genshin writing#alrecchino#arlecchino genshin x reader#genshin arlecchino x reader#arlecchino genshin impact#genshin impact arlecchino#genshin arlecchino#arlechinno x reader#arlecchino smut#arlecchino genshin#arlecchino#arlecchino x reader#arlechinno genshin#arlecchino fluff#genshin
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Tending a garden is about as hands-on as climate solutions get. On a basic level, putting plants in the ground helps sequester carbon. Vegetation can reduce stress and tension for the humans around it, and it provides habitat and sustenance for pollinators and other wildlife. Gardens can provide spaces for education, and, of course, sources of food. But the act of designing and planting a green space serves another, more metaphorical purpose: It gives the gardener agency over a piece of the world and what they want it to look like — and a role in conveying of all those aforementioned benefits.
That’s the premise behind Wild Visions, a challenge launched in the DMV area (that’s District of Columbia, Maryland, and Virginia, for the uninitiated) in January. The project invited university students to design gardens with all sorts of visions and themes, then bring them to fruition this spring with native seedlings from Garden for Wildlife — an offshoot of the National Wildlife Federation.
For every plant the company sells, it donates one to a community project, said campus engagement lead Rosalie Bull. This spring, around 2,000 went to Wild Visions.
“We’ll be creating in total nearly 6,000 square feet of new wildlife habitat in the DMV,” Bull said. “And that’s just this year. We hope to do it year after year.”
In Bull’s view, this project has a distinctly solarpunk framing — celebrating a literary genre and art movement that conjures visions of a sustainable future, where nature is as central as technology. Although part of the goal was to get more native flowers in the ground, the challenge also hoped to “activate the solarpunk imagination,” and let students offer their perspectives on what the gardens could accomplish.
For instance, a group called Latinos en Acción from American University wanted to focus on monarch butterfly habitat, as a symbol of the migrant justice movement. Others, like the Community Learning Garden at the University of Maryland, were interested in exploring culinary uses of the plants they received, which included sunflowers, black-eyed Susans, milkweed, goldenrod, and aster.
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⍣ ೋ after the break-up
☆ kuroo, oikawa, daichi, hinata, bokuto akaashi, sakusa (prt 2.)
KUROO TETSURO — assuming reader is the one who ended it, he's absolutely blindsided and shocked. he walks around in a daze; to anyone who didn't know him, he just looks tired or whatever. to whoever does, it's clear he's absolutely destroyed and crushed. of course, he'll try to act his best to not let it show how sad he is, but it really shows when his teammates were wondering where he was, only to find him sitting alone on a bench, looking down at his feet somberly.
"kuroo." kenma called out softly, his lips pursed into a line at the sight of his childhood sitting ways away from the rest of his team. it took a minute before kuroo was looking over his shoulder to look over at the shorter lad, his eye-bags dark, lips pursed into a straight line. "...i miss her." kuroo mumbled, looking back down at his feet, one of his hands coming up to brush through his distressed black hair.
he feels even worse when he sees you in the distance, walking home with a friend of yours. he can only think and remember when it was him walking you home, your hand intertwined with his. he chews on his lip as you get smaller and smaller as you walk more into the distance. he misses you.
OIKAWA TORŪ — he acts totally unbothered. his teammates didn't even know the two of you broke up until one of them asked about you jokingly, to which oikawa stuck out his tongue, huffing a "she dumped me," before swiping the nonexistent hair off his shoulder with sass. he thinks he's okay; he feels okay. it doesn't catch up to him until one day he's still practicing long after official practice ended.
oikawa grunted as he jumped into the air, his hand coming up to slap the ball. he can only furrow his eyebrows in annoyance when the ball hits the net, dropping over to the floor. "damn it." he curses, wiping the sweat off his forehead. i'm thirsty, he thinks, looking to the side where you would sit on the floor, watching as he practices.
but you're not there... where are you? "y/n-chan?" he calls out, his eyes looking around the empty gym. "..she's gone oikawa, remember— she broke up with you," a voice speaks from behind him. he turns around to see iwaizumi standing behind him, his eyes low with concern. oikawa feels a pang of hurt within his chest, his face morphing into one of hurt. oh, thats right, you left him.
DAICHI SAWAMURA — please, he's so heartbroken. he's so sad and hurt, when you were breaking up with him, he knew he couldn't change your mind, so he let you go, because he knew that was the best choice for the both of you. he stills watches over you, his protectiveness still present. he'll still watch you in class and in the hallways, his eyes never lingering off you for even a second.
"y/n—y/l/n-san," he says meekly, his eyes watching your face for any discomfort. "how are you doing?" he asks. he still attempts to talk to you, even if you crushed his heart completely. "i'm doing great, daichi-san, how about you? how is volleyball going?" his heart stings at your formality, he would do anything just to hear the way you call him by that cute nickname you gave him.
i'm hurt, i miss you, i miss you—i miss you a lot. can we get back together? "i'm doin' great, we are able to go to nationals, i'm so excited." he says with a forced grin, he hopes you don't notice the way his smile doesn't meet his eyes. "sure, let's go to the rooftop?" you say, slowly getting up from your seat. usually, you'd hold his arm as the two of you walked, but you don't. instead, you walk with a slightly behind him with much of a distance for his taste, but it's okay. he doesn't want to make it anymore awkward than it already is. he'd rather be your friend than loose you completely.
HINATA SHOUYO — he cried, he cried for days. even tsukishima felt bad for him. he was almost like a zombie, and he felt even shittier when he was so exhausted that his spikes were shit. he needed your presence, he needed you to be at his side, but you weren't there at all, you left him, you left him shattered and inconsolable. he nearly got sick with the way he was so sad, almost throwing up a few times because of how hard he cried.
"y/n," he calls out from behind you. you turn your head to look him, removing your hand from your locker. "oh, hey, shouyo," you say sheepishly, tone seemingly afraid and hesitant. you seem to know what he's already feeling. "how are you doing?" you ask, turning your body to face him.
"i.." he stammers, swallowing thickly as he tries to prevent his voice from cracking. "uhm—are you gonna be there for my game next saturday?" he asks, his eyes almost wide with the way he waits for your answer. his eyebrows furrow with sadness when you give him a bittersweet smile, "i.. maybe."
BOKUTO KOUTARO — his emotions are even worse than hinata's. he actually refuses to accept the break-up, and literally gets on his knees to beg you not to leave him. he'll literally wrap his arms around your waist, his head mushed into your belly as he cries into your embrace, mumbling apologies and love confessions. he almost loses a couple of games after the breakup because he was such an emotional wreck.
"see you later y/l/n-san." your friend says, waving a goodbye as you part ways with her. you say a goodbye as well before continuing your walk down the halls. your heart beats nervously, sometimes you see bokuto in this part of the school, but you're not surprised that you do. he pops up in front of you, almost as if he was awaiting for your arrival.
"y/n.." he whines, biting on his lower lip, his hair greatly deflated. you can only sigh at the sight in front of you. "hey, kou.." you say softly, you're not even going to try to switch to his surname or even his full first name either, that'll actually destory him and you know that.
"y/n, can we please just–", "kou," "–can we please just talk about this, i need you." he whimpers, hastily walking over to you, his hands grabbing at your elbows. "koutaro." you sternly say, your use of his first full name as him freezing in place, his lips pursing into a straight line as he tries not to cry. he's then pulling you in for a hug, his head resting in the crook of your neck and he sniffles against you, whining your name like a sweet baby. you can only rub your hand against his back comfortingly before you're pulling away from him for the last time.
AKAASHI KEIJI — he tried to handle it maturely, he really tried. he respects your decision, it'll be unfair to force you to stay in a relationship when you're unhappy. like a mature person, he's polite, so polite everyone almost forgets that you two dated. but not everyone, after all, you two dated for almost two years. he's still concerned for you, though, he still looks out for you, he always will.
"y/l/n-san, do you need help with that?" he asks, quickly coming over to your side when he sees you walking with a bunch of books in your hands. "y-yeah, please, akaashi-kun," you stutter, your arms relaxing when he takes more of the lion's share of the books from you. "thank you, they were really heavy." you joke, cheekily grinning at his help.
"no problem, just helping out." he says, looking straight ahead of him blankly. he seems to be dealing with it as well as he can, of course, he misses you, and he still resists the urge to text you late at night when he's upset. what about you though? you can't help the way you're gazing at him from behind, marveling at his pretty emerald eyes. akaashi notices, of course, but he doesn't take a plan of action to do anything about it, and neither do you. it was your decision after-all.
SAKUSA KIYOOMI — like oikawa, he acts totally unbothered. he'll brush off whenever someone sends their condolences on the breakup, either scolding them for their annoying pity, or not saying anything at all. deep inside, he's almost annoyed at the way he's so hurt. it's helpless, there's no point in being sad when he can't do anything about it. but he does, but it's over. he feels out of place, his daily structure and schedule is disrupted, and silently, he still awaits for you to call for your place back into his life.
"ah! kiyo.." you shout, trailing off when he walks right past you. it stings you greatly, but at the same time, you understand his actions. the two of you dated for nearly four years, since he was a still a young teenager. he avoids you like the plague now, not even sparing you a glance whenever he does come across you.
you won't ever deny it, even if it's a shock for your pride, you miss him. you miss him and his stupid check-ups, him and his annoying pesters of "did you wash your hands?" you thought that he would be okay with remaining as friends, and he did agree to that, but now, it's like you don't even exist to him. to him, you do, but he just refuses to interact with you, his pride hurt and crushed, as for the first time, he's disturbed.
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