#but also because I know I WILL move by the end of the year

[5sospenguinqueen]

Matchmaking Brothers - Arthur Leclerc x Gasly! Reader

Summary: Having known each other since they were kids, Yn and Arthur only spent time together when their families rallied together for the sake of their older brothers. Recently, fans have noticed that they’re spending more time together than ever before. 

Warnings: None? Maybe swearing

Requested: Yes by @1800-love-me . asked for gasly reader and brothers best friend arthur. sorry but this is only a short one

Faceclaim: Madison Beer

F1 Masterlist

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yn_gasly posted a new story 

arthur_leclerc replied don’t be like that  → you know you love having me → yn_gasly you ate all my crisps, begged me to order pizza and then cried because i “let you eat all that crap”  → arthur_leclerc but did you i make you laugh? → yn_gasly at your expense, yes → arthur_leclerc you’re meaner than when we were 12 → yn_gasly and you haven’t changed 

charles_leclerc replied don’t be like that, little gasly  → you know you miss us when we’re travelling  → yn_gasly what’s there to miss? → the bickering over racing? the sweaty socks left everywhere? competing over who can eat their pasta faster?  → charles_leclerc don’t deflect. i know you miss arthur → yn_gasly now i really don’t miss you 

francisca.cgomes replied send me that pic of pierre please

alexandrasaintmleux replied i’ll buy you a big glass of wine tomorrow 

pierregasley replied i hate you → i wish i’d smothered you with a pillow when we were kids → yn_gasly i wish you’d get out of my apartment

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yn_gasly just posted

liked by jackdoohan, estebanocon and others

yn_gasly come to alpine, he said. it’ll be fun, he said. now i’m alone whilst he gets ready for quali and kiks has abandoned me also 

1,980 comments

arthur_leclerc come to ferrari, it’s more fun

→ pierregasly don’t you dare

→ alexandrasaintmleux we have leo

→ yn_gasly on my way! 

→ user1 was it leo or arthur who convinced you?

francisca.cgomes i didn’t abandon you! i had to pee! 

→ yn_gasly i was left alone! 

user2 i don’t know how any one could leave her alone when she looks that good 

pierregasly i’m sorry that i have a job?

→ yn_gasly you should be. i have to suffer every race weekend because of you 

→ user3 we all saw how tense she was during q3

→ user4 but also the way you jumped when you realised he was into q3

jackdoohan i promise i won’t let you be alone next year 

→ yn_gasly and this is why you’re my favourite alpine driver 

→ estebanocon i haven’t left yet, you know :(

→ yn_gasly you’re my second favourite, estie 

→ pierregasly pierre erasure

→ user5 oo doohan’s got moves. arthur better look out 

user6 can the test/reserve drivers of f1 fight? ‘cause yn is so fine

arthur_leclerc just posted

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, olliebearman and others

arthur_leclerc a stressful weekend that ended so well. what a special moment, couldn't be more proud 

1,699 comments

yn_gasly a huge congrats to charlie 🤍 so proud of you! i know you’ve dreamed of this day since we were kids. can’t wait to celebrate with you later 

→ charles_leclerc merci, little gasly ❤️

user7 can’t believe arthur managed to sneak in yn on a post dedicated to charles

→ user8 family friends my ass

→ user9 tbf she looked so good today 

→ user10 face card never declines liked by arthur_leclerc 

alexandrasaintmleux who’s that cutie in the last slide 

→ yn_gasly date me please

→ charles_leclerc whoa, when i said i wanted you to join the family, i didn’t mean by stealing my girlfriend 

user11 anyone else suspicious about his weekend "ending well" and then a pic of yn? 

→ yn_gasly his brother finally won monaco, babe. please go outside and touch grass. i just looked hot today 

→ user12 imagine getting called out by the queen herself

pierregasly why are you posting my sister’s cleavage, little leclerc?

→ yn_gasly why are you such an embarrassment 

→ arthur_leclerc i feel sorry for any man that dates you if he’s what they have to put up with 

→ jackdoohan i’d be happy to volunteer?

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pierregasly just posted

liked by francisca.cgomes, alpinef1team and others

pierregasly the gasly’s and the leclerc’s 

3,310 comments

charles_leclerc my favourite french family 

→ yn_gasly i thought you were your favourite french family 

→ charles_leclerc i know where you live 🔪

arthur_leclerc why does everyone else get a nice photo and i get the one where yn is trying to tackle me into the harbour?

→ pierregasly i thought it was cute! 

→ user1 and we agree. now tell us they’re dating

alexandrasaintmleux 💕

user2 you can tell yn and arthur are the little siblings ‘cause neither of them got a face shot 

→ yn_ln apparently we’re not as attractive as the others

→ arthur_leclerc i disagree 

francisca.cgomes okay but me and alex look hot

user3 love how kika and alex are counted as the gasly’s and the leclerc’s

→ yn_gasly of course they are. they’re family 

→ user4 and which one do you count as part of? 😏

user5 yn and arthur look a little closer than friends ngl 

→ user6 no because the way that they’ve been closer than the two confirmed couples 

→ user7 they’re literally clinging to each other 

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arthur_leclerc just posted

liked by scuderiaferrari, alpinef1team and others

arthur_leclerc grazie monza for some unforgettable memories 

2,009 comments

user8 if this isn’t confirmation that they’re together, i don’t know what is 

user9 she’s been converted? damn, he must be good in bed

user10 omg yn featuring in another grand prix post! 

user11 dick so good she forgot she was french

→ user12 ya’ll are unhinged but i can’t deny that this screams that they’re a couple

→ pierregasly i can’t believe i just had to read that 

charles_leclerc loving every outfit in this. nice to see all the family support 

→ pierregasly back off. she’s still my sister 

→ charles_leclerc for now 

→ user13 ???

yn_ln everyone calm down. we’re literally in the land of ferrari. it would be criminal not to support them

→ user14 but you’re french, not italian? 

→ scuderiaferrari you can’t fight the forza ferrari sempre 

pierregasly traîtresse! 

→ yn_ln well, i’m always abandoned in alpine. they treat me good in ferrari

→ alpinef1team we’re sorry. please come back to us. we’ll do better

→ francisca.cgomes please come back. i miss you yn

→ yn_ln oh yeah you all want me now

→ arthur_leclerc i’ve always wanted you

yn_gasly just posted

liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly and others

yn_gasly okay, guys. i did wear red for him

2,910 comments

charles_leclerc and i thought it was for me :( 

user1 arthur kind of confirmed this already with his post and saying he always wanted you 

→ user2 shush, we’re getting a glimpse into their relationship. don’t ruin it

arthur_leclerc and you look amazing in it ❤️

→ yn_ln almost as good as you do 

→ charles_leclerc but no one looks as good as i do 

→ alexandrasaintmleux just let them flirt, mon amour  

user3 the height difference between them is killing me

pierregasly you better tell him to keep his hands where i can see them

→ yn_ln you were the biggest advocate for us getting together

→ charles_leclerc no, that was me

→ pierregasly yeah until i realised he would be putting his hands on my baby sister! 

jackdoohan i guess i lost 

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requests are open!

i am currently away but coming soon; mark webber smau, lewis baby angst part 2 and a franco smau

tag list

@peachiicherries @rosecentury @c-losur3 @heavy-vettel @evie-119 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @lilorose25

[meteorologistaustenlonek]

Back when I moved to Memphis for a new job, many of my relatives back in Kansas advised me to watch out for "those people" because "you know what they say". I wasn't taking that especially from people that I used to worship next to in church, mouthing the same Gospel that I believe in and, of which to them, it's just lip service. I played along with it by playing ignorant. "Why, NO... what do THEY say about THOSE people?" "You know... THOSE people!" "Which people?" "*THOSE* PEOPLE!" "Shady riverboat captains?" "NO! THOSE PEOPLE!!!!!!!!" "Ice cream van drivers who zoom through downtown areas?" "NO! YOU KNOW! THOSE PEOPLE!" "Marching bands who don't take direction?" "OH, FORGET IT!!!!!!!!!!" I have Add to that, there was a restaurant owner back in Memphis that I knew that texted out a completely racist "joke". I stopped going to his restaurant. After about half a year, he texted me to ask where I had been. Told him I couldn't frequent his establishment any more thanks to his joke. Because, after all, you are known (even though a lot of people don't realize this any more) by the company you keep. Told him that I couldn't be seen with him or at his place if he was going to make cruel racist garbage jokes and think it was funny. Surprisingly, and thankfully, he was shocked that anyone would stand up to it, and also completely and totally apologized, texted everyone that he texted with the joke in the first place and promised that he would never do or say anything like that again. Standing up to fear, racism, hatred... leading a rebellion against, as it were ... does work. I lost contact with my family members after challenging their stance. I have lost a lot of friends not participating in their Wink Wink Nudge Nudge fest against Name Particular Group That's Not Like US Here / Oh You Just Don't Have A Sense of Humor You Stick In The Mud. I don't care. Having been bullied myself before, I will not stand for it in anyone else. It takes courage to stand up, but it is worth it in the end.

[muniimyg]

𐙚₊˚⊹ bbydaddy!yoongi (9) ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

series m.list // taglist

note: sorry this update took forever !!! enj <3

//

there are no words that can describe how incredibly awkward you feel when you wake up.

last night—after you and yoongi crossed that unspoken line and messed around—you two ended up tangled together.

it’s strange because in between soft touches and sleepy murmurs—you actually got to know him in ways you never expected.

you recall it all.

his quiet voice filling the spaces between the darkness and your hushed breathing so you could hear every tone, every word, and every breath of his crystal clear. 

yoongi told you stories and confessions that slipped out between shallow breaths. childish yet meaningful things he probably didn’t even realize he was saying.

you remember him murmuring about the way his mom used to hold his hand when he couldn’t fall asleep as a kid, or how he swore he’d never own a fish again because when he was 11 years old... he had 14 goldfishes and they all died one by one 2 weeks later.

he swears it wasn't his fault.

you tell him you believe him.

(you really do.)

he also talks about his quiet love for early mornings, how at peace he feels when he’s the only one awake in a still-sleeping world. in that half-dazed vulnerability, yoongi let you in. 

just enough for you to see a side of him you hadn’t expected, a part that was softer, quieter, more open.

then, you two talked about baby injeolmi.

how you two don't really care about the gender and just want a healthy baby. so much so that you both agreed to not know the gender and to just be surprised on the day of. oh, and how you do want a baby shower and think hye mi is already plotting that...

then, you two talked about the moving in thing again.

that's when you pretended to go to sleep and actually fell asleep. yoongi only laughed at you, fully knowing that you're just nervous. you're moving in one way or another.

he knows it.

you know it...

but aside from the way the talk ended; it went well.

no, the talk wasn’t everything…

but it was something. 

now, with the morning light filtering through the blinds, reality started to seep back in.

the familiar awkwardness of two people who shared more than they’d planned. you can feel his warmth beside you, his hand still loosely draped over your waist, and a twinge of nervousness fluttered in your stomach.

you glance at him, expecting him to be asleep. but then, his eyes blinked open, groggy but sharp enough to catch the slight flush in your cheeks. 

still half-asleep, his voice rough as he mumbles, “hi…”

for a second, neither of you move, as if lingering in that quiet, unguarded space between sleep and reality. suddenly aware of the intimacy, he clears his throat, his gaze softening but pulling back just a bit.

you offer him a shy smile, feeling the weight of everything unsaid between you.

“a-about last night…”

he chuckles softly, rubbing a hand over his face. “yeah… last night…”

then, he pauses to gather his words.

“wait, are you talking about me yapping or me sucking your tits?”

none. you’re talking about pretending to fall asleep regardless, your shy smile breaks as you burst into laughter. he joins your laughter and sighs. 

“i mean, are we gonna talk about any of it or is acknowledging it good enough for now? i don’t know if i’m awake enough for the conversation but i will be if you want to—”

“all good,” you assure him. “i don’t know where i was going with any of it. i guess i just wanted… to know if you—”

“i liked it,” he tells you, not digging any deeper. “you getting to know me, me sucking your tits—all of it.”

as promised, yoongi takes you to the baby store. 

your eyes light up the minute you step foot in it. it’s then that yoongi remembers exactly who he’s having this baby with. 

you and your fucking babyfever. 

the baby store is a mix of pastel colors, tiny clothes, and gentle lullabies playing over the speakers. yoongi trails behind you as you wander through the aisles. one hand resting on the cart as he pushes it along, his eyes constantly flicking to you with a quiet, thoughtful focus.

though you two are pretty good at communicating—the whole physical affection part? that’s still a little wonky. for instance, every time you pause to examine something, yoongi is right there, his hand slipping gently around your waist to guide you to the next aisle or just to linger beside you. it’s so subtle that, at first, you think it’s an accident, a reflex. 

but then it keeps happening.

at first, it throws you off—his casual closeness.

the way he stays so near, like a shadow. you’re not used to this kind of attention from him.. this quiet and steady affection. but strangely enough, you find that you don’t mind it. in fact, there’s something comforting about the way he stays close, attentive to your every move.

when you stop to touch a soft little onesie covered in tiny clouds, yoongi doesn’t even hesitate. he reaches over, gently taking it from your hands and adding it to the cart without a word. 

you shoot him a questioning look, but he only shrugs, a small smile tugging at his lips as if to say, whatever you want.

“yoongi, you know you don’t have to buy everything i touch, right?” you remind him, glancing at the growing pile in the cart.

yoongi just chuckles, unbothered, and places his hand on your waist again as you reach the aisle full of toys. his touch is warm and grounding, making it hard to argue with him.

“you’re not carrying any of it home, so relax,” he says with a smile that’s both charming and final. “i like this shit too. they’re cute or whatever—”

then, your fingertips brush as you both reach for a soft, star-patterned onesie. he lets go first, letting you hold onto the onesie.

“this one’s cute,” you say softly, running your thumb along the fabric. then, you bite back a small smile when you realizes yoongi hasn’t moved his hand from your waist.

“yeah,” he murmurs, nodding. his voice is softer than usual, but before you can read into it, he takes the onesie and tosses it into the cart. then he grabs a few more items without asking you, each time ignoring your attempts to peek at the price tags.

“yoongi..."

"what?"

"are you serious?"

he looks at you blankly. "don't we need these things?"

you nod but give him a stern look. "yeah, but we can't buy out the whole store."

"why not?"

"first of all, that's insane... and second of all—a-are you just—"

you reach for a soft, stuffed rabbit, just curious to feel it, and—predictably—he plucks it right out of your hands, tossing it into the cart.

"you are."

"i'm what?"

"seriously?" you huff, barely holding back a grin. “you’re not even letting me decide if i want it. you're tossing it in just because i touched it.”

he remains unbothered by your protests. 

“what if i just think you have good taste?” he says, glancing at you with a hint of mischief. 

and with that, he gives you a gentle nudge, guiding you further down the aisle with that warm hand still resting at your side.

“are you saying that just to flatter yourself?”

“what do i have to do with this?”

“well, you’re my type and my babydaddy—”

“i’m your type?” yoongi tilts his head at you. "good to know..."

you blush, eyes wide from embarrassment. before you can make up some excuse to save face, he leans in and playfully pinches your waist.

“you're my type too, mama.”

you clear your throat and redirect the conversation.

"s-should we pick a crib?"

yoongi gestures his hand for you to lead the way.

as you begin to walk, you turn your head and send him a glare.

"... and be serious about this part, okay? this is the crib we're picking out. read the packaging and make your judgement. i'm gonna end up choosing the prettiest one that might not function as well as the ugly one... so, can i trust your taste on this?"

yoongi nods, pushing the cart with a steady, unhurried pace, his hand resting casually on the handle.

“you can trust me,” he says, his voice low and sincere.

... and so, you do.

you trust him.

when you reach the checkout, you step forward to pay but—

yoongi slips right past you.

casually handing over his card to the cashier before you even get a chance. you cross your arms and narrow your eyes at him, watching as he signs the receipt, completely unbothered.

the total is easily above $3,000. 

he meets your gaze with a look that’s almost playful, his expression all wide-eyed innocence, as if he hadn’t just ignored your efforts.

"yoongi," you begin, voice firm. “we’re both injeolmi's parents, and it’s not fair for you to pay for everything. at least let me pay half—”

he doesn’t respond right away, just nods patiently, his attention focused on gathering the bags the cashier hands him. his face is calm, listening but clearly not swayed. he loads a big box containing the crib into the cart, then places the bags filled with tiny clothes, blankets, and toys right beside it, adjusting them carefully.

you press on, leaning slightly forward, hoping to get through to him.

“we’re both responsible here... i know i'm not a nurse practitioner like you, but it's not like i can’t contribute, you know—"

“i know.”

yoongi glances over his shoulder at you, his mouth quirking in the faintest smile as he stacks the last bag. he seems unbothered by your scolding, more amused than anything.

“this is my baby too and i feel uncomfortable letting you do this much—”

finally, he turns to you, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair back from your cheek in a gesture so casual it nearly makes you forget your own irritation. 

“do what? provide?”

you're tongue tied.

“all done? feel better, mama?” he asks, his tone light, but his eyes sparkle with a hint of mischief. “if not, go ahead. say what you want. say what you need to say. i’m listening.”

you let out a small huff, crossing your arms more tightly, trying to stay serious.

“you’re not paying for everything, yoongi.”

he raises one eyebrow, his expression softening but still unwavering. 

“i am. i did.” he shrugs, nonchalantly. it feels like he’s teasing you even though he isn’t. “___, i’m all done with this topic now. are you?”

“no, actually, i—” you start, feeling your frustration build.

“great,” he interrupts, his smile spreading into a grin that makes your heart skip. 

he reaches down, taking your hand in his, his grip gentle yet firm, and begins to guide you toward the exit, leaving you no room to protest. 

his thumb rubs lightly over your knuckles as he holds your hand, a grounding gesture that calms you, even as he completely ignores your point. 

“let’s go home,” he says softly, his voice warm, as though it’s the simplest decision in the world.

home.

following yoongi inside his condo, the familiar sight of his place tugging at something inside you. 

it’s been a while since you’ve been here. the memories of that night still linger like a quiet hum in the back of your mind, but you push them aside. 

focus on the present. 

focus on the baby.

he leads you through the hallways, and you try to ignore the way your pulse quickens as you walk past his bedroom. you know it’s silly—nothing’s changed here. but still, the weight of the space feels different, heavier now. maybe it’s because this time, you’re here for something else. 

this time, it’s about the baby.

and the fact that you’ll be moving in soon… fuck, your mind begins to spin.

then, yoongi stops in front of a door, his hand resting lightly on the handle. he opens it slowly, stepping aside to let you in. 

“this is the guest room,” he says, but you can tell he’s hesitating, like he’s waiting for your reaction. “soon to be baby injeolmi’s room…”

you step inside, your gaze instantly drawn to the empty space. it’s clean, quiet, the pale walls untouched by time or use. the sunlight pours in from the window, making the room feel warmer, but it’s still just a room. 

there’s nothing personal about it. 

nothing that belongs to anyone yet.

but you can already picture it—nursery furniture, soft colors, the quiet hum of a baby’s lullaby filling the air. you glance back at him, noting the careful expression on his face. he’s watching you, waiting for your approval. waiting for your thoughts, even if you’re not sure what to say. you wonder if he’s nervous too, if this feels as strange to him as it does to you.

for a moment, your mind drifts to that night—the night everything changed. 

the night you slept together. 

the night you felt something more than just friendship between you two. the way his touch felt, the way his lips lingered on yours, and how quickly it all faded into the awkward silence the next morning.

"i also made space for your things in my room. i'm not finished clearing out my all shit but i will be by next week. does that sound okay?"

"huh?" you blink. "n-next week?"

yoongi nods.

"i think i gave you enough time to think things over... and don't act like this is a surprise. i brought it up last night. you pretended to sleep."

your eyes widen.

"i—"

"move in with me next week," yoongi says. "... you can pretend to sleep mid conversation in my bed from now on."

by an hour and half in, you and yoongi have filled the space with scattered remnants of baby gear—boxes, parts of cribs, and the disassembled pieces of a changing table. they all lay haphazardly across the floor. 

it’s oddly comforting.

the clutter somehow feels like a soft reminder of the chaos and excitement that’s about to come.

yoongi is kneeling on the floor, tools in hand, as he begins to assemble the crib, the sound of metal and wood clicking together filling the otherwise quiet room.

you lean against the doorway, arms crossed, watching him work with a careful, focused precision. his brow is furrowed, his jaw clenched as he concentrates on each piece. his sleeves are rolled up, revealing forearms that make it hard to focus on anything else. you swallow, not bothering to hide the way your eyes drift to the muscle in his arms as he works.

and then, almost instinctively, he looks up at you, his gaze meeting yours as if he can feel your eyes on him.

“baby injeolmi’s clothes need to be washed,” he says, his voice low but firm, his hands already reaching for another tool. “you want to do this 50/50? fine. but i don’t want you getting hurt.”

you push off the doorframe, rolling your eyes as you walk toward him, crossing your arms over your chest. 

you’re not used to him treating you like you’re made of glass, but you get where he’s coming from. still, it doesn’t sit well with you.

“i’m pregnant but i’m not fragile,” you argue. “i can help you with the crib—“

he doesn’t budge, his jaw tightening as he focuses on the task at hand. 

“humor me then,” he says, his tone patient, but there’s an underlying edge of stubbornness that makes it clear this isn’t up for debate.

you’re about to argue further, but the way he’s working—so effortlessly, so damn focused—has you momentarily silent. the way his arms flex as he screws the pieces together, the tension in his shoulders, the occasional glance up to check in on you—it all just feels so... domestic, and so right in this moment.

you step back a little, your breath catching as you take in the scene. yoongi, with his sleeves pushed up, lost in his work, looks so different from the guy you met—still him, but somehow more.

more... grounded. more steady.

your gaze lingers, unable to pull away.

your cheeks heat, a strange flutter in your chest as you realize you’ve been staring too long. When Yoongi catches your eye, his expression unreadable for a split second, you scramble to regain your composure.

“i’ll, uh…” you quickly clear your throat, suddenly feeling the weight of the moment. “i’ll get started on baby’s laundry. do you have clothes that need to be washed too? i can do a load—i mean… fuck—y-you know what? how about i make us some lunch first? yeah. i’ll do that.” you say, quickly backing away before your feelings get the best of you.

your steps are hurried as you leave the room, but you can still feel the heat in your face, the warmth of his gaze following you as you retreat.

yet, the image of him—focused, strong, and all yours—lingers, and you can’t help but smile to yourself as you step into the kitchen.

in the kitchen, you decide to keep it simple yet comforting. 

something easy to share, nothing too fancy. you settle on making caprese chicken sandwiches with a side of fresh fruit and chips. 

you finish grilling the chicken and layer it on the toasted ciabatta. you add slices of fresh mozzarella, letting it melt slightly, then pile on thick tomato slices and fresh basil leaves. a drizzle of balsamic glaze finishes it off before you top it with the other half of the bread, pressing it together gently when yoongi walks in. 

without a word, he leans against the counter beside you, his presence as familiar as the scent of the meal. he doesn’t wait for you to finish; instead, he picks up a melon slice and takes a bite.

“can’t you wait two seconds?” you laugh, nudging him playfully with your elbow.

yoongi just grins, completely unbothered. he takes another bite.

“fruit always taste better when moms cut them,” he says, his voice teasing but laced with that quiet sincerity of his. “oh, should i say milf? or is that jungkook’s line?”

you roll your eyes but can’t help the smile tugging at your lips.

the way he stands there, so effortlessly himself, makes your chest tighten in a way you didn’t expect. he’s always been like this—comfortable, confident, and somehow, when he’s this close, it feels like everything else fades away.

as he pulls away, you notice a small smudge of melon juice on the corner of his lips. without thinking, you reach up to wipe it away, your thumb brushing softly against his skin. the movement feels natural, almost automatic, but something about the intimacy of it makes your heart flutter. you don’t hesitate, bringing your thumb to your mouth to clean it off.

“mhmm,” you moan. “tastes sweet.”

then, the moment freezes.

yoongi stares at you, eyes wide, as if he’s seeing you for the first time, like the simple action has somehow shifted everything. the air between you thickens, and suddenly, it feels like there’s more than just the space in the kitchen separating you.

you stand still, unsure of what to do next. 

your eyes lock, and in that second, something unspoken passes between you. it’s not just the closeness or the warmth of the kitchen—it’s a pull, an undeniable magnetism that makes your chest tighten and your breath catch.

yoongi’s gaze drops to your lips, and you can feel the tension, the quiet yearning between you both. his hand twitches slightly at his side, like he wants to reach for you, but he’s holding back, waiting for you to make the first move.

and just as you’re about to lean in, your belly gives a sudden flutter.

you gasp, your eyes widening in surprise, and instinctively, you reach for his hand, pressing it gently to your belly. 

“oh my god.”

“what?”

“yoongi… i think… here—”

you hold your breath, waiting, and then—

there it is again. 

a small, unmistakable kick.

yoongi’s eyes light up with awe, his fingers curling slightly around your hand as he feels it, a slow smile spreading across his face. he doesn’t say anything at first, just stands there, his eyes fixed on your stomach, filled with wonder and something deeper that you can’t quite place.

you squeeze his hand, feeling the weight of the moment settle around you both.

“did you feel that?” you whisper, a smile tugging at your lips. 

yoongi looks up at you, his eyes softer now, holding something deeper than the simple wonder of the moment. 

the air around you two has shifted into something more intimate. then, his gaze flickers to your face, his heart fluttering in his chest as he steps a little closer, his thumb gently brushing over your hand.

… and as he looks into your eyes, his pulse quickens. 

it’s not just the baby’s kick he feels—it’s this quiet, undeniable pull between you two. his chest tightens with the weight of it, and for a moment; this is everything to him. 

everything.

he gulps as he soaks in your presence and sinks into the idea feeling of love beginning. then, slowly and then all at once; he accepts it. 

“yeah,” yoongi says, tone warm and ever so sure. “i feel it.”

as you look up to meet his eyes, yoongi’s lips tug into a smile. dipping his head low, he kisses you.

[badly-drawn-doflamingo]

Brook’s Past, Military and Everything Between [ An Essay kinda ]

Brook’s past is not a thing many people seem to mention or think about, at least in full, however it’s something that's plagued me. Not only as a Brook fan, but simply out of the odd implications it has towards the future, if any. Oda’s planted too many seeds for it to utterly be nothing; there’s so much odd and seemingly out of place comments and facts stated by Brook and others towards this missing history. However, knowing that the show is beginning to near it’s end, due to time, I am unsure of what exactly will be done.

I believe however, for folks' interest and so we can have everything in one place, that compiling everything found so far can be beneficial, so, I have.

Starting with what we know for sure, Brook is from the West Blue, born 90 years ago to a certain kingdom, the same kingdom he was a military convoy leader from. We know this due to a few factors, however it’s still open to debate if it *is* the same kingdom, however seeing as he was shown as a child to already know what fencing is, practicing moves with his bow, I am just going to say he probably was. In any case, other things worth noting, on the topic of childhood, is that Brook seems to have had money. At least, stability.

Compared to a lot of the other strawhats, Brook is shown dressing very nice. No tatters, no tears, shined shoes and a full violin and bow. He also, as already stated, seemed to be exposed to fencing enough to mirror the moves. If this comes from his kingdom, it means he was exposed to it at a young age. Knowing that he was a military convoy leader, this could be taken that perhaps there were military demonstrations, perhaps the kid saw castle guard or other displays; it’s really up in the air.

We know Brook, again as stated before, became a military convoy leader. Now, the definition of what exactly that means can differ.

Wikipedia states; A convoy is a group of vehicles, typically motor vehicles or ships, traveling together for mutual support and protection. Often, a convoy is organized with armed defensive support and can help maintain cohesion within a unit. It may also be used in a non-military sense, for example when driving through remote areas.

This could mean Brook’s job could’ve been accompanying ships for protection, being a knight for his King, mediating information and goods that come in and out of the kingdom. This would make sense on why his speed was needed, a 9.2 ft man being a great choice for a leader.

His weapon also would make sense for this kind of mission, perhaps secrecy being important or at least the ability to be discreet. His cane sword, a ‘Shikomizue’, is not unique however to just him in the show, one other man using one that has been confirmed so far, that being Fujitora. The pair also share a sea, the west, and both utilize iaijutsu (quick draw techniques.) Fujitora blinded himself with said sword because of something apparently so cruel and inhumane that he rather not see anguish. This may be related to Brook’s departure from his kingdom, which is addressed later in this essay. (Fig 3-5.)

Another thing that’s worth mentioning here is Brook’s attack patterns, being unique even for his kingdom apparently. Once again, during the Ryuma fight, Brook states, and I quote;

“Ryuma: “Now tell me, what part of that wretched excuse for a body would you like me to severe with my special ‘Arrow Notch Slash?’ Brook: You don’t know a thing about that move, so do not use it’s name. I use to serve in my kingdom’s raider squad. The quick draw attack that I was most skilled at was ‘Requiem Lebanderole’. My comrades-in-arms renamed it in regards to my fighting technique.”

(Fig. 1, Brook explains his raider squad and move names. A banderole mind you is a long flag for BATTLE crusades. )

This sets up a few interesting facts. 1. Brook was in a raider squad, a kingdom’s group of marauders, as well as if not the same job as convoy leader. 

2. His techniques were unique to him, or at least specialized to a degree of having a nickname. 3. As expected, he seems to have been close to these men he commanded, adding another layer over Brook loosing the Rumbars. Being in both a raider squad and being a convoy leader at one point, if not the same point, implies either Brook was simply versatile, acting in both in separate years or periods. Or, the most likely, that he was higher ranking than expected, making him a CO, or commanding officer. (Lieutenant Colonel is another equal rank for scale, making Brook just below a Major.) This makes him quite the important figure, especially for a kingdom that seems to value its military so much, so much so that a child of Brook’s age would already know about their style of fencing, as expressed already. Brook’s devil fruit is worth mentioning here, the revive-revive fruit not likely to be found by a crew like the Rumbars. It is spoken about as if he has always had it amongst the crew, being a fact of life. However, when did he get that fruit and why? I propose where it would be useful; in combat. If your military convoy leader, your best swordsman could be shot and come right back to protect the king, would he not be utterly invaluable? You would never let him leave… But he DID leave. It’s not said why, however we have some extra tidbits of information that may tell us why, and that ALSO may tell us the answer to what kingdom he means.

( Fig. 2. Brook states his leaving of the military for unknown reasoning, the word certain being used in an odd way, establishing his bounty.) This bounty mind you all is in fact, using inflation method, 297,000,000 berries. That is a MASSIVE bounty for just a pirate. Perhaps a certain blond stole a treasure a kingdom could not replace; their convoy leader. Lets rewind for a moment and cover something that may be seen as off topic however I will come right back to the subject at hand; Calico Yorki. Yorki is an odd bird, pirate wise. He makes his crew read his bounties and information, is never shown to play an instrument/sing but makes his crew preform/they all do, and makes Brook make him dinner. (Steak, and Brook continues to be able to make it as confirmed by an SBS.) What is oddest yet, other than his large crew and shirtless habits, is his nature. A man that set to sea to play music for “orphans and crying children” as stated by himself; a crew made for “any men who love music.” Now, I could be reading into this too hard, however from his speech patterns, to this apparent need for a large family, it seems that singing to orphans may be a very personal goal. An orphan turned pirate perhaps, with lofty dreams and a heart of gold, it reads to me that Yorki may have been just that. Knowing this, orphan or not, we now can compare these facts to Brook’s life up until their meeting. A child who probably grew up being taught to fight, being around access to education, expenses and the kingdom’s training. Why would a man like Brook ever join a man like Yorki, and if it’s only music, would that not make Brook a deserter? I do not think that is the case. I will now bring forward some interesting evidence regarding Brook’s kingdom and WHY he would leave. Germa 66. During Zou to Whole Cake, a few mentions of Germa are made with Brook around, garnering interesting reactions indeed.

( Fig. 3. Brook listens but chooses not to add anything utter than silence, his music pausing as well.) This silence could be take as simple ignorance, however Brook later admits he knows of the kingdom, in fact, he knows a lot. A lot more than anyone else did, Reiju admitting interest in his knowledge and once again, Brook brushes it off.

(Fig 4, 5, Brook speaks about Germa 66.) He seems to underplay or simply not elaborate a LOT on his kingdom, as if something happened. Perhaps joining Yorki was not out of simple cowardice or need to be free, (which again if he did would both reflect poorly upon his entire character and not be in character for him what so ever,) but in fact, out of necessity. It could have been Germa 66, it could have been some other grouping, however I believe this will come to be something important. The kingdom possibilities are interesting as well, and I will list the following LIKELY possibilities. (Other options are known to not be military, like Ohara, or literally places like Thriller Bark itself.) - Toroa - God Valley - Illsia Kingdom - Soja Kingdom The most likely candidates, because again, it is labeled as certain kingdom (Fig 2.) is Toroa or Soja, however I will personally lean into Toroa. This is because of a man by the named of Byron.

(Fig 6. Byron and his information.) His nose and face shape vaguely resemble Brook, however honestly that is a stretch. What is NOT however is his familiar attire, family line and the placement of his kingdom. This could easily be Brook’s home, however again, this is just speculation. Brook very well could belong to God’s Valley, or the same kingdom as Issoh, fleeing because of something he did not agree with or literally could not stand any longer. But, that falls under possibility, not fact. This concludes the facts section, now comes the final question; What does it mean for the story? And, honestly, that can be debated. What Oda has done is plant odd seeds of information about the man, similar to Sanji and his ties to Vinsmoke, that have not been addressed nor talked about in full, or so I’ve found sufficiently. These seeds MAY bloom into what I hope will be a tie into some huge reveal, perhaps aid from a past member of his convoy or kingdom, or perhaps this will only spark conflict. Perhaps it will be minute, Brook being able to aid due to his knowledge, the man already in Thriller Bark showing his prowess by being able to command the strawhats into defeating zombies via salt and tactic. In any case, we can only hope these things mean anything, tied into some huge story that could explain why a man like him would quit for a redneck like Yorki, other than perhaps love, and what kingdom would let a man like him go willingly.

[queensunshinee]

Wreck my plans || Art Donaldson x reader

Rating: Explicit (18+) Warnings: SMUT (p in v sex, fingering), drinking, family drama, very slow burn, maybe too slow, I really don't know what's going on here

Word Count: 8.5k

Wreck my plans

Parties were never your thing. Parties are Jenny's thing. But she went away for the weekend with two friends from Harvard and didn’t even think to invite you. So Jenny can go to hell. And you can go to the party.

Luke Thompson's house is huge, and it doesn’t surprise you since you've spent two evenings a week here over the past few months trying to teach him algebra and literature. He had to repeat senior year after his complete failure last year. The party was in celebration of him finally getting his diploma and being accepted to a local college nearby.

"Little (Y/L/N)!" he shouted, spreading his arms wide, inviting you for a hug. "The only reason I managed to finish school," he added, yelling, making you roll your eyes. "You’re the only reason you managed to finish school, Luke," you said, taking a step back. "To be honest, I didn’t think you’d come," he looked around, causing you to do the same and start recognizing familiar faces from your grade and the one above you (Jenny’s). "I've never seen you at a party before." "I've been to parties. we just don’t hang out with the same people," you said as the two of you moved towards the kitchen so you could grab a drink.

The conversation continued for a few more minutes, but your attention drifted to the blond guy in the kitchen- Art Donaldson. Dressed in a pink button-down shirt and jeans, holding a red cup just like the one Luke put in your hand, drinking the same warm beer you're drinking. You hadn’t thought about him for almost a year. Your gaze wandered from him to the living room, where you saw Dave flirting with someone you couldn’t identify, and you found yourself rolling your eyes at the scene. You tried to listen to Luke for a few more moments because it felt like the polite thing to do, but you lost interest, and, like a magnet, your eyes were drawn back to Art Donaldson, who was busy looking you over from head to toe. You wonder if it made you blush or if it's just the cheap alcohol. You left the kitchen with a certain sense of saturation, looking for people you actually enjoyed being around more than Luke, who, as nice as he was, was too sociable for your taste. Tried too hard. You also try hard, mostly to stay out of everyone’s way.

You ended the evening with Chloe and Ron- ironically, friends of Jenny's, since Lia refused to come. They asked about Jenny and told you about their college experiences. Ron finished his first year at Yale, and Chloe went to a local college not far from here. Maybe it’s time to go home, as you feel like you’re suffocating and the place is closing in on you. The thought of staying close, like Chloe, to this suburb made your stomach turn. Chloe loved it, though. She didn’t see anything wrong with it. She planned her life right here. Just like this.

"Can I sit?" A familiar voice stood above you as you stared at Luke’s pool. A few people were in the far corner of it, but otherwise, the yard was empty. You shrugged without saying anything as Art sat down. He took off his shoes and folded up his jeans a bit, dipping his feet into the pool- something you hadn’t even thought to do. You looked at him for a moment as he took another sip from the drink in his hand. He’s probably the most handsome guy you know- a childish thought that’s crossed your mind since you were young, since you remember him. Blond with eyes that could make stars feel embarrassed with how they shine. There’s nothing ordinary about him. He’s exceptional. You don’t think there’s any girl your age who’s known him and hasn’t had a crush on him, at least for a moment.

"Congratulations on finishing school. I heard you’re the reason Luke can celebrate," he said casually, looking at you and causing you to turn your gaze back to the pool in a split second. "He really needs to stop telling people that," you replied, hearing him chuckle. "How was your first year in college? Stanford, right?" you asked, trying to shift the focus from yourself to him. "Yeah, tennis, you know. It’s nice. I’m supposed to choose a major next semester. My mom wants me to pick business management. I’m considering sports management," he said offhandedly, as if it weren’t too personal. As if this wasn’t the longest conversation you’d had since kindergarten. "Then you have to choose sports, of course," you said quickly. "Sorry, it’s none of my business," you added just as fast, realizing you’d stepped into his complicated relationship with his mom. "If only it were that easy, huh?" he chuckled. "To choose what I want," he added.

At that moment, Art Donaldson had no idea that what he was saying touched the deepest parts of your heart, nearly crushing it. Stroking an open wound without knowing the area was sensitive. Jenny decided at the last moment that she didn’t want to study at Yale and preferred Harvard, which meant financially you couldn’t study out of state. It would just be too much. And it surprised no one that you were the one who had to give up your dream. It surprised no one, because Jenny was the first to decide, and you received the scraps of something that might have been hers. Like wearing an old shirt, she no longer wanted. It’s never the other way around.

"Aren’t you planning to go pro?" you asked after a few seconds, trying to shake off the emotions flooding you. "I’m not sure yet, my mom really wants me to finish my degree," he explained, taking another sip. "Patrick’s really suffering on his tour. don’t tell him I told you that." He added information you hadn’t asked for. As if you were in daily contact with Patrick Zweig. As if you’d ever exchanged a word with him. You only know Jenny slept with him a few times, but it’s not something you two talk about, so whatever. "I’m going to Wesleyan," you said suddenly and looked at him; his gaze was already on you. "Damn," he smiled a half-smile, and maybe it was the first time you’d felt a certain pride since you applied there. "Jenny went to Harvard, so it’s complicated for both of us to study out of state, you know how it is," you felt the need to explain the situation, even though he hadn’t asked, and he certainly didn’t know how it is. "It’s a good school tho, I’m glad I got in," you weren’t sure who you were trying to convince, but he furrowed his brows as if he didn’t believe it, as if he had something to say about it. But he kept it to himself, and you appreciated that.

"I have to say, distancing myself from Jenny (Y/L/N) was one of the best things that’s happened to me since I left," everyone knew about Art and Jenny's relationship. They couldn’t stand each other. They competed in every possible subject. From student council to tennis. You don’t think Jenny even likes tennis. She just likes the first place. And without realizing it, you laughed, which a good sister shouldn’t do, but you felt it too. Distancing yourself from Jenny was a relief. The difference is that you’re not allowed to say that out loud, and Art Donaldson doesn’t really care. He doesn’t need to be at family dinners during holidays.

You looked at him for another second and thought this could be a good moment to kiss him. It was as if he hadn’t taken his eyes off you for a second since he sat down. You could lean in a little and press your lips to his. It’s not like you’d see him much again. You wouldn’t see him at all and in six weeks, you will move into the dorms in college. and in few years, maybe after school, he’d probably be a professional tennis player or a lawyer or the president. You think you can picture him as the president. You'd vote for him. "Well, it was nice seeing you, (Y/N)," he smiled another one of his captivating smiles. "Talk to me if you ever find yourself in California," he gave a small nod, grabbed his shoes, and walked away. Maybe one day you’ll manage to actually do something you really want to do. . . . You regretted what you did about three minutes after you politely turned down the full scholarship to Wesleyan. and accepted what they offered you at Stanford. But in your defense, it was late at night, you’d just come back from Luke’s party very tipsy, and you had no real intention of talking to Art when you got to California. You’d never seen your parents so angry. Your mom cried. Your dad said you were inconsiderate. Jenny sat on the couch, watching you with a raised eyebrow. They said they wouldn’t pay for anything, that if you made this decision, you’d have to deal with the consequences. The scholarship covered your tuition, but for housing and books, you’d have to use your savings. Two jobs you picked up over the summer and a part-time job you’d had for three years of babysitting. They didn’t speak to you for weeks. From the moment you told them, all communication between you went through Jenny.

"Tell her dinner’s ready," "Tell her to go down and buy eggs," "Tell her Uncle Barry’s coming over tonight, to act like she still cares about this family."

"They'll come around," Jenny mumbled when she climbed into your bed one of those warm August nights. "I don’t know," you answered with your eyes closed, exhausted from the day at work and the hostility you returned to at home. "I know," she concluded. In the morning, you woke up alone.

You think they’ll never forgive you. Maybe you’ll never forgive them. But you don’t know. . . . The empty bed in your dorm was beneath the window. You didn’t complain for a moment because everything could have been much worse. Jenny bought you the flight ticket to California for your birthday. You cried. You remembered that small moment when Art said he was glad to be away from her and you giggled, not defending your sister. She’s not to blame for being born first. She’s not to blame for needing more attention. Her intentions are good. That should be the only thing that matters.

You only met Billie in the evening when she came back from what she described as a date. She spoke about 50 words a minute, so it was hard to follow. She asked why you came a week late, you wanted to say that you were on time and she came early, but all you managed to get out was "work." It wasn’t a lie. You worked at a camp and an ice cream parlor all summer, trying to save as much as you could because you didn’t know how long it would take to find a job near the university. Turns out, very quickly. The diner across from the university was looking for waiters, and you showed up without experience but with a convincing smile and some recommendations from previous employers, as if anyone cared that you were great with kids. Three shifts a week, and the savings would help you keep your head above water. That’s all you need.

A week after you arrived at the dorms, Billie and Summer, your roommates, forced you to go with them to a party. And it wasn’t too hard to convince you because you weren’t at home. And sometimes, you need to remind yourself that you at home isn’t the same you who’s at Stanford. Here, no one knows you or Jenny. No one expects anything from you, no one will call you "Little (Y/L/N)." Here, you are whoever you choose to be. And that’s enough. Enough to wear almost burgundy lipstick and a tight dress, but still sneakers. After all, something of you stays the same.

Someone named Dean hit on you most of the night, and Billie told him you had a boyfriend. "Babe, anyone but Dean. I’ve been here two weeks, and he’s slept with the entire building already," she whispered in your ear, and you laughed. Someone else hit on you during the night, but you didn’t remember his name. When you lay in bed, you tried calling Jenny to tell her about your night, but she didn’t answer. And maybe that’s okay. . . . The first time you saw Art at Stanford, he was the one who actually saw you. "(Y/n)?" He lifted his sunglasses to his hair. He wore a Stanford T-shirt and pants that made you wonder if they were also Stanford coded. He had a racket bag over his shoulder. He looked confused. "Hey," you didn’t know what to say as you leaned against the only free tree you could find and tried to read one of the books from your syllabus, preparing for your first class. "Hey?" He almost chuckled as he sat down next to you, not taking his eyes off you. Like you’d disappear the second he blinked. He didn’t seem disappointed by your presence. "Shit, I was joking about California," he looked amused, still studying you. He took the book you were reading, like it was his, ran a hand over the cover. Like he knew everything he needed to know about the course just by looking at it. "Stanford was on my list, and it just felt more right," you tried to justify, to explain that it wasn’t because of him. He didn’t think it was because of him tho, not really. "How did they take it?" he asked, probably remembering details from your conversation at the party. "I don’t know, because they’re not talking to me," you said it in the same casual tone, like it didn’t bother you. "Damn," he muttered, "that bad?" he asked. "It’s whatever," you shrugged. "I’ve got to get to class, but I’ll see you around, yeah?" He stood up and walked away. You didn’t know if you’d actually see him around again, but the interaction had been nice. You think that maybe Art Donaldson won’t judge you. And that’s an interesting thought. . . . The next time you see him, you're in the middle of a shift, wearing a ridiculous apron and a ponytail that makes your hair look greasy. Needless to say, you’re embarrassed, but he doesn’t act like it’s a big deal. He says hello, which is surprising because he’s with friends, and you look, well…ridiculous. You say hello back, because you’re polite, and it’s the right thing to do. They sit down at one of the tables, and you hear his voice from a distance saying, “I know her from back home.” You think it’s a half-accurate description, because you don’t really know each other- not like he knows Patrick Zweig or Luke. Not like he knows Jenny. You also think the girl sitting next to him is very pretty. Pretty enough to hate her, but nice enough not to.

Casually, before they leave the diner, Art asks if you're going to a party someone in his dorm is throwing. You shrug in response because you hadn’t heard about it until now. “It’ll be fun, you should come,” he calls out, mentioning the building he lives in before he leaves with his friends. He didn’t have to invite you. He doesn’t have to invite you to places. You’re not his responsibility. You don’t want him to think you are. You don’t know if you’ll go. . . . When you received the email from the registrar notifying you that your account had already been paid and that there was no need for the duplicate payment you’d tried to make, you found yourself confused. When you realized your parents had paid the bill despite saying they wouldn’t, you ended up crying for two hours. It’s not fair. It’s not fair. They haven’t spoken to you in almost three months. They let you stew in guilt but are willing to pay your bills? It’s ridiculous. None of them answered when you tried to call to say thank you. You cried for another hour. 'Busy. Do you need anything?' -Jenny-

You think you need a hug. But that feels childish, so you send her an orange heart emoji. . . . You go to the party Art invited you to with Billie and Summer because, why not? You don’t mention that you got an invitation, just casually say you heard there’s a party and that it might be fun to check it out.

You decide to put on the dark lipstick again, you liked how it looked last time, and honestly, the feedback was great. This time, you stick with a thin shirt, ripped tights, and shorts- keeping it low-effort was part of the actual effort. You think it’s silly. But you look cute, so fuck it.

Art spots you before you notice him again. He comes up to you in the middle of a conversation, gently swiping the beer bottle from your hand, making you look at him as he takes a sip and hands it back. “You’re the hot guy from the posters,” Billie says shamelessly, looking straight at him. “Art,” he chuckles, introducing himself, making you roll your eyes. “Mind if I steal her for a bit?” He asks permission, which is ridiculous and funny, making you feel embarrassed as he hands you back the beer and leads you to another corner of the apartment by your other hand.

“Hey,” he says, brushing your hair back behind your ear. “Hey,” you reply with staged nonchalance. “You look good,” you add, because it’s true. The few times you’d seen him on campus, he was in Stanford sports gear. Seeing him again in a button-down and jeans felt like a privilege. “That’s what I’ve heard,” he responds, referencing Billie’s comment from a few minutes ago, taking the beer from you again. Maybe it’s over the top, sharing the same bottle. It’s relatively intimate for two people who don’t actually know each other.

One of his friends comes over and starts talking to Art about tennis, his gaze lingering on you. You wonder if Art realizes he’s standing closer to you in a slightly possessive way. That his hand is lightly brushing yours, that he keeps taking the bottle from you to drink from it, openly displaying that sense of intimacy.

“Do you want to get out of here?” You’re not sure where the courage to ask came from. Maybe it’s the tequila shots you took with Billie and Summer before heading out to the party. Maybe it’s the joint you passed between each other. But Art looks amused as he nods. You catch Summer out of the corner of your eye, giving you a thumbs-up and making exaggerated kissy faces. If Art saw her doing it, he didn’t say anything. The contrast between the noise in the building and the quiet outside surprises you. The silence between you wasn’t awkward, but you hoped he’d say something by now. He seemed to be enjoying himself too much to talk. “Want to head to the lake?” he suddenly asked, though you were already walking that way. You hadn’t actually been there yet, but you didn’t want to reveal that you didn’t know the area that well.

“Hey, give me your phone,” you said, stopping in your tracks. He stopped too, raising an eyebrow as he pulled his phone from his pocket. “So bossy,” he muttered with his signature smirk, but you entered your number and sent yourself a flower emoji so you could save his number later. When you reached the lake, it almost took your breath away. It looked like something out of a movie. You know it sounds like a cliché, but it really was like that- like an old movie, but not too old. The moon reflected off the lake, and a few people were sitting on the grass nearby. You sat on a table instead of the bench next to it. Art raised an eyebrow at the choice but shook his head like you’d done something funny.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said, looking at you as if confessing a secret. “I’m glad I’m here, too.” You knew that’s not what he wanted to hear, but he laughed anyway. He sat on the bench below you, between your legs. You felt as if you had some kind of power. Your hand automatically moved through his curls. You thought about apologizing but decided not to. “How are you?” he asked. “I’m okay, I think. How are you?” you tossed the question back at him. “Seriously, how are you?” His fingers brushed over yours, like it was the most natural thing in the world. “With your parents and everything?” he added. “I’m fine,” you replied. You didn’t want to talk about it, and he didn’t push as much as you expected. His hand squeezed yours for a moment, as if he had more to say. Instead, he nodded and stood up, starting to walk with you just behind him.

You're walking alongside the lake, wondering if this path has an end, or if you even want it to. You think you might feel those butterflies in your stomach. "Do you know my first memory of you?" he asks suddenly, and you’re surprised. Part of you doesn’t want to know. It’s probably related to Jenny. Art has so many memories of Jenny, and they’re all negative. Deep down, you hope he doesn't remember you as this girl being attached at her hip. "The day after my dad's funeral, you gave me a daisy you picked from someone’s garden." He chuckles, but it sounds bitter. You don’t remember this. You do remember, though, that for years, until you both drifted and each found your own group of friends—he called you "Daisy." You never knew why. "Oh." You don’t know what to say, so that’s what comes out a bit pathetic. "I didn’t even know it was a daisy, if the story details matter," you try to lighten things up. "I asked my grandmother," he says, and the two of you chuckle. "That’s why you called me Daisy for three years straight?" you ask. "God. Why do you remember that?" He puts a hand over his face, as if he’s embarrassed or something. "I thought maybe you didn’t know my name, and since I was Jenny’s sister, you just rolled with it." You laugh. "It suited you, Daisy," he says, and his hand moves your hair behind your ear. This isn’t the first time he’s done that, but this time he also looks at your lips. You feel like he’s looking at your soul if that's even possible.

"I really wanted to kiss you at Luke's party," you admit, because it feels like the right moment. "Oh yeah? So why didn’t you kiss me?" he asks, wetting his lower lip with his tongue. "I’ve wanted to do it since eighth grade, and then I had the chance and didn't know what to do" You look at him. His smile is still plastered across his face, and you wish he wasn’t so smug all the time. "Maybe I wanted you to kiss me at Luke's party," he says, almost ignoring what you just said. "Little Daisy, sitting by the pool alone. Maybe I approached you with intent? Maybe I was goi-" You don’t give him the satisfaction of finishing his sentence, as you crash your lips onto his like you’re possessed. His smile lingers for a few moments. His hands pull you closer to him as he presses you back against a light pole you didn’t know was behind you.

Art Donaldson is a good kisser. No one can take that from him. He’s an amazing kisser. His tongue is way too skilled. His hands have found their way under your shirt as if that’s their natural place. His lips move perfectly in sync with yours, and when you both pause to catch your breath, he presses his forehead against yours. He places small kisses on your cheek, then on your neck, and only when you lean your head back and bump into the pole do you remember that you’re in a public space. People could see you. This is not your style. "Okay, we’re good," you tap his chest lightly, making him laugh the most delightful laugh you’ve ever heard. "Is this everything you dreamed of before starting high school?" he asks, planting another small kiss on your cheek, as if he just can’t help himself or something. "I didn’t dream about kisses like this, Donaldson." You roll your eyes, thinking it’s pretty ridiculous that you’re smiling right now.

When you reach your dorm, you wonder if you should invite him in. You think he’d say yes. But you also think there’s something beautiful about leaving the night as it is- two people who used to know each other, kissing by a lake. He gives you a small kiss and takes out his phone as he turns to leave, while you head inside, unable to resist leaning against the door.

'Since eighth grade, huh?' -Unknown Number-

'Shut up.' -(Y/N)-

He replies with a flower emoji. You think the intention is daisy. Maybe you’re overthinking it. . . . You don’t expect Art to text you the next morning. You had that night together; it was great, and maybe it was exactly what you needed to get him out of your system. Maybe it was what you needed to finally move on from that endless crush on Art Donaldson. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t a bit disappointed when he didn’t reach out at all, as if he’d disappeared from the face of the earth. But that’s probably fine. He doesn’t owe you anything, and you don’t owe him. You each have your own lives at Stanford. You’re trying to juggle work and studies. You’re supposed to submit a thirty-page paper after Thanksgiving, and you’ve only written three. Clearly, you have enough to keep you busy.

Your mom called a few days ago, and you cried. Because you hadn’t really talked in almost four months. She said Jenny convinced her. It’s kind of messed up, but you don’t say that. You’re just glad someone convinced her. You’ve been thinking a lot lately about how strange it is- how you never behaved outside of what was expected of you, and the one time you did, they reacted as if you’d committed a crime. You think about it even when you’re trying not to think about it. Your mom asked if you’re coming home for Thanksgiving. You said no. You wonder if it made her sad only after you hung up. . . . The next time you see Art, he’s flirting with a redhead at a Thanksgiving party Summer convinced you to attend. Honestly, you could’ve skipped this party, but Summer said she wanted the girl who invited her there. So you bit your tongue and told her you’d meet her there, because that’s what friends do.

It’s easy to tell when Art is flirting; it’s basically exaggerated hand gestures and a level of closeness he’s never tried with you. You’ve seen him in action before. You try not to stare, because it doesn’t really matter. Instead, you look for Summer, who’s on the opposite side of the room, directly in Art’s line of sight. It makes you smile, knowing he’ll see that you’re here. You’ve decided you’re going to ignore him. You made that decision when you passed by him on your way to Summer, feeling his eyes on you but not meeting his gaze.

When Summer slips away to sit with Caitlin -the girl she’s interested in- a guy you don’t recognize approaches you. He introduces himself and offers you a drink. You politely decline, you’re smarter than to accept punch from a complete stranger. He’s nice, but standing a little too close for your comfort. He leans over you, and you feel a bit trapped between him and the wall you’re leaning against. You could walk away, of course, but the whole situation feels uncomfortable. You wonder where Summer is, unable to see her in the crowd.

"Don’t you think you’re a bit too close?" Art’s voice is firm and unyielding as he positions himself next to you, raising an eyebrow at the guy. "Sorry, man, thought she was single," he says, disappearing like he was never there. Neither of you bother to correct him about the two of you not actually being together. You roll your eyes at Art and head toward the kitchen, feeling his steps following behind. You spot Summer with Caitlin on one of the couches, and she gives you a nod, signaling that she’s fine and that you’re free to leave if you want. "Hey, you didn’t go home," he says behind you, as if everything is normal. "Quite the observation, Donaldson," you say, knowing you’re being mean. But, fuck it, he deserves it. You grab a beer from the kitchen and head outside, with him trailing beside you. "You’re mad at me because I didn’t text you," he sighs, prompting you to stop and raise an eyebrow at him. "You really think you’re something special, huh?" Maybe a bit too harsh, but it’s all you’ve got right now. "I don’t think I’m anything special. I just didn’t know what to say." He sighs again as you start walking away from the building. "It was a good night. I didn’t want to ruin it, you know?" You think he sounds almost shy. His voice is softer than usual, and you remind yourself that you also labeled that night as a good one, as a nice experience you didn’t want to spoil. So maybe it’s unfair to be angry- after all, you could have reached out to him, too. But what would you have even said? The three weeks since then passed quickly, and most of the time, you didn’t think about him at all. So it’s fine. Everything’s really fine.

"It’s ok, Donaldson, I wasn’t sitting by the phone waiting for a message from you. You can let it go," you sum up, trying to sound amused and light-hearted, though it comes out a bit too bitter for your liking. "So why didn’t you go home?" he asks, changing the subject. "I’m working." You shrug. He raises an eyebrow, like someone who knows that’s not the whole truth but also understands he’s treading on thin ice right now and shouldn’t push for more. "Why didn’t you go?" you throw the question back at him, trying to show him that it’s all good. "I’ve got a match tomorrow, plus my mom doesn’t really care," he replies, and you nod, understanding a bit of what he means. You knew his mom- she always struck you as the coldest person in the world. "What are you doing at a party if you have a match tomorrow?" you ask, raising an eyebrow, wondering if it’s too harsh, because you’re trying to steer the conversation onto calmer ground. "It’s in the afternoon," he shrugs. "You don’t have to walk with me, my dorms are really close," you say after a few moments of silence. "We’re good? We're friends and you’re not mad at me anymore, right, Daisy?" he asks, nudging his shoulder against yours. You roll your eyes at the silly nickname, but you don’t find it in yourself to correct him.

"We’re good," you conclude, walking into your building, leaving him behind. . . . The next day, you decide to go to his game after your shift, only to find out that Patrick fucking Zweig is also sitting in the small crowd. Most of the students eager to see Stanford’s star in action probably love their families more and decided to go home. You sat far from Patrick, but it didn’t stop him from giving you a puzzled look as he whispered something to the girl sitting next to him, who was fully focused on Art's game. You remembered her from the diner the other day. She’s beautiful.

Art won to the applause of the crowd that stayed to watch until the end. Two hours of the ball going back and forth and sounds that were almost erotic. Whatever. You consider heading back to your dorm without saying anything just to avoid talking to Patrick. But Art smiles at you and gives a small wave, so you know there's no way to get out of at least saying hello. You need to suck it up. “Congratulations, Donaldson,” you mumble, and he gives you the smuggest smile he can find. “Little (Y/L/N), long time,” Patrick says to you with half-loudness. He doesn’t say anything bad, but you shrink a little. Trying to remember the last time someone called you that. Probably at Luke's party. Art looks at you with an apologetic look as if he knows. He probably doesn’t know. But that's okay. “How’s the tour?” you ask politely because it’s the right thing to do. “Good, good,” he says, shifting his gaze from you to Art and back to you. Like a man with a plan. “Want to have dinner with us?” he asks. In any other situation, you’d laugh, because the odds of you sitting at the same table with Patrick Zweig would be slim, especially considering his history with Jenny. “I wish, but I have a paper due in a few days, and I really have to work on it. Maybe next time,” you smile the most genuine smile you can find and quickly move away.

“Dude, you didn’t tell me Little (Y/L/N) was here,” you hear Patrick laugh. “Shut up, Patrick,” you’re almost sure you heard Art reply.

'You wish?' -Art Donaldson- He sent it half an hour later when you were already sitting at your computer with a cup of coffee in hand.

You turned off your phone. You need to focus. . . . Art came to your work far more often than you expected. He probably tried every dish on the menu, including the pancakes with the “secret” sauce that you suspect is just chocolate mixed with overly sticky jam. He sometimes studied there or came with his friends. He talked to you but not too much, and you texted each other from time to time. Were you friends? It felt strange to think that Art Donaldson and you were friends- not because he wasn’t someone you’d want to call a friend, but because you’d finally let go of the idea of him as someone out of reach.

One day, when he walked you home, he asked why you took on a fourth shift, since you usually didn’t work Mondays. “Are you keeping tabs on me, Donaldson?” you asked with a half-smile. “Daisy,” he sighed, as if you were being ridiculous, even though he was the one who knew your schedule and which days you didn’t usually work. “I’m saving up for a ticket home for the holidays, so,” you shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. “You haven’t bought a ticket yet?” he asked, looking at you with raised eyebrows. “I’m buying it myself, so it’s taking me a minute.” Your parents had made it very clear they were only paying for your dorm. You bought your own books, and you had to cover your own flights. You didn’t look at him when you said it, afraid he might judge you- even if it was silly.

He stopped and looked at you. “That’s fucked up, (Y/N).” Whenever Art said your name like that recently, you knew he was serious, and that the conversation was drifting somewhere too deep. Like the time you talked about his grandmother, or his dad. “It is what it is,” you replied, continuing to walk, hoping he would keep walking too. You didn’t want to dwell on the fact that they bought Jenny her train ticket. You didn’t want to dwell on the thought that even if it was cheaper, no one made her feel guilty for the only choice she’d ever made in her life. “I could get you a ticket,” he said, and this time, you stopped. “What the fuck?” you asked, your voice going up an octave. “I don’t need you to–” “For the miles. You can pay me back later,” he shrugged like it was no big deal. “I don’t need you to buy me a ticket. I don’t need your money, Art, let it go.” Your voice shook a little; you wondered if he heard it. “It’s not out of pity,” he said, voicing what you didn’t say. But you kept walking as if you hadn’t heard him.

“I wonder if we’ll find a spot in the library tomorrow,” you changed the subject to the first thing that popped into your head. Art didn’t say anything, but you knew it was the last thing he cared about at that moment. . . . A week before your flight, Billie cut your bangs. It’s not a cry for help, you told everyone who gave you a weird look. It’s cute. It’s fucking cute, ok? Art watched you from across the room at Patrick's party. You wondered if he'd say hello or if you'd both act like, at best, casual acquaintances- or, at worst, like you were just Jenny's little sister. You missed Lia and a few others who were fun to drink with and gossip with. You found out that Michelle was pregnant, which was a fucking scandal.

“Hey, stranger.” Art said when you walked into the kitchen. His eyes were redder than usual, and his smile was mischievous but tired. “I didn’t think you’d come,” he said, making Lia glance between the two of you. “Did you see she cut her bangs?” she asked, taking a sip from a drink you couldn’t quite identify. “It’s not a cry for help.” “It’s not a cry for help,” you both said together, but Art used a screechy voice, like he was imitating you, making Lia laugh. “She’s been yelling that at people all week,” he said to her, as if you weren’t standing right there. You considered grabbing a glass of wine and leaving them to talk alone. “Dave’s here,” Lia said suddenly, and you saw Art tense, his smile fading as if he sobered up instantly. If it weren’t for his telltale red eyes, there’d be no trace of it.

You and Dave had been together most of your last year in high school. He was the first guy you slept with, which was fine. It was just that everything felt a bit weirder whenever he was around since you broke up. It felt like you’d gone from friends to lovers to people scared of catching some incurable disease from each other if you'd even look at one another. “It’s totally fine,” you rolled your eyes, because, well, it really was fine. You hadn’t felt anything for Dave for almost a year. You regretted not knowing how he was doing or how he was handling college, but that’s life- you win some, you lose some.

“Little (Y/L/N),” Patrick Zweig’s voice grated in your ear. “Where’s (Y/L/N)?” he added quickly, probably drunker than usual, though you weren’t surprised. “Patrick,” Art muttered toward him, almost whining, like a man shocked by his best friend’s crudeness. “She’s at home, wasn’t feeling well.” You wondered if that was a convincing excuse for Jenny skipping Patrick’s party. But it was the excuse she left with you, and that’s what you’d stick to. “Well, at least we’ve got one family representative. What can you tell us about Art in California?” he asked, and you wondered why he was so desperate to put you in the spotlight. “Patrick, leave her alone,” Art’s tone was defensive, giving the guy next to him no option to dig any further. Patrick just flashed a mischievous grin and raised his hands in feigned surrender. “I like the bangs, you wear a mental breakdown well,” he chuckled and left the kitchen as chaotically as he’d entered, yelling something to Luke about beer pong. “Sorry, he’s an asshole,” Art said, sighing. You wondered when Lia had disappeared from your view. “He’s… Patrick,” you rolled your eyes. And it was true, you knew he didn’t act this way out of malice, he was just like that. “Want to get out of here?” Art asked. “Don’t you want to spend some time with your friends?” you returned the question. “I could use some air. Besides, who’s my friend here?” he shrugged. And as you both headed outside, you thought that was the saddest thing Art Donaldson had ever said to you.

"How does it feel to be home?" he asked. You want to say it’s ok, that it’s exactly what you dreamed, but it’s more like what you expected it would be. Your parents aren’t mad at you anymore, but they don’t approve of your decision either, and they remind you at every opportunity that they think you made a mistake. “It’s fine.” You shrugged. “I hate it when you say that,” he had this bitter laugh. “What?” You stopped for a moment and looked at him. “Every time you say something’s ‘fine,’ I know it’s not, and I have no idea how to get you to tell me.” He sighed, sitting down on a bench that hadn’t gotten wet from the rain that fell earlier in the afternoon.

“I’m not lying to you,” you tried to defend yourself, searching through your mind for other times you’d said something was ‘fine.’ You think he’s exaggerating. “I don’t think you’re lying. I think you don’t want to say things out loud,” he said. You think that if he weren’t a little drunk, he wouldn’t have brought up this conversation. “It’s weird, being home,” you said after a few seconds. He looked at you with wide eyes, waiting for you to say more. “I hate it when people call me ‘Little (Y/L/N).’ It feels like I don’t exist without Jenny,” you said, sharing something you hadn’t even told Lia. “I know,” Art said. “That’s why I get mad at Patrick when he calls you that.” He sighed for what felt like the hundredth time. “How did you know?” you asked, surprised by the nonchalance with which he said it. “Haven’t you figured it out yet?” he asked with a half-smile, “I just know you, Daisy.” And if you didn’t know he was drunk and tired, you’d think there was sadness in his eyes. . . . A few days later, you saw Patrick at the grocery store, which was strange in itself because you were pretty sure Patrick Zweig had assistants to go grocery shopping for him. “Little (Y/L/N),” he said, and you’re fairly sure the smile on his face was genuine; he was actually glad to run into you. “Happy Christmas,” he said, stopping in front of you, holding a carton of orange juice and what looked like a frozen pizza. “I’m Jewish,” you rolled your eyes, only making him smile more. He knew that- he could deny it all he wanted, but Patrick knew Jenny very well, and you and Jenny shared genes. You both paid quietly for your items at the checkout, and as you stepped outside, he lit a cigarette, looking at you with an expression that seemed to expect you to stop and stand with him.

“I’m really glad you’re there with him at Stanford, you know?” he said after a few puffs of smoke. “Yeah? Why?” You tried to avoid smiling at him. You didn’t think he deserved a smile; he’s a jerk. “Because he’s better when you’re around,” he said softly, with a kind of depth you hadn’t seen in him before- something that made you think you understood what Jenny saw in him, how he managed to break her heart. “At tennis?” you asked. Because that’s all Patrick cared about- tennis, girls, and maybe Art. “At everything.” He shrugged, all the depth disappearing as he began to walk away. “Happy Hanukkah, Little (Y/L/N). Say hi to your sister for me.” You could see a wink. Patrick Zweig is defiantly an asshole. . . . You and Art went together to the New Year’s party at Stanford. Billie and Summer haven’t returned yet, and you’re almost certain Art moved his flight to catch the same one as yours, but you didn’t ask him about it because you think it would make you seem too smug. And you’re not. You really aren’t. You just think that if anything had changed from the last time he asked if you two were friends, he would have told you. But he hasn’t, so…whatever.

He sat on your bed today while you did your makeup, never taking his eyes off you through the mirror. Someone watching might think you’d hypnotized him. You don’t think you saw him blink once in the fifteen minutes he stared at you. “You like what you see?” you asked with a half-smile, still looking at his reflection. “What if I do?” he shrugged, as if this ridiculous flirtation was the truest thing he’d said in ages.

You decide not to linger too hard on his hand holding yours all the way to the party. Or on the fact that he kept you close to him while talking to people you didn’t know. On the effort he put into participating in a conversation with a friend you met in one of your courses. You try not to blush when he leans in and asks if you’re planning to kiss him at midnight. He's being bold. You think he’s acting like a brat. It should bother you. It doesn’t bother you.

You kiss him at midnight. Or maybe he kisses you. You’re not exactly sure, because you’re both so wrapped up in your own bubble, ignoring the drunken students around you. Your foreheads touch, and in an instant, your lips are on his, or his are on yours. It doesn’t matter. The result is the same. Beer and gum, and something else you can’t quite identify, maybe desperation. You like the mix. Maybe you shouldn’t, but you could get used to it. “It’s not silly, right?” you ask quietly while you both catch your breath. “It’s anything but silly, Daisy,” he says with certainty. And you don’t think you’ve ever heard Art Donaldson sound so resolute.

He kisses you all over when you get to your room. You thank the holiday gods for keeping your roommates away. Your red dress finds itself on the floor much faster than you expected. He’s too good at this. You’d feel much less confident if he didn’t look at you like you held the sun in your left hand and the moon in your right. You find yourself sitting on top of him in your bra and underwear, his hands on your hips steadying you. You’ve never felt sexier than you do right now. A little voice in your head screams at you to engrave this feeling. But you silence it; it’s insecure and reminds you of Jenny, the last person you want to think about when you’re at second base with Art Donaldson.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs as his lips trail down your neck to your chest, unclasping your bra with one hand like a pro. “Shut up,” you manage to say, and he chuckles into you, as if he’s trying to bury himself within you. It's hot, stupidly hot. In a few minutes, he half-gently tosses you onto the bed, stripping down with a speed you didn’t think possible. He leans over you in boxers, and you close your eyes for a moment, knowing you have to remember this. Because he really is a work of Art. You’ve never known anyone whose name suited them more.

His lips were everywhere on your body at once, if that’s even possible, and his fingers slid in and out of you before you even realized you’d lost your underwear or when you’d started making that sound from your throat. Everything embarrassed you but also felt natural. You’ve never experienced such a range of emotions with anyone else, and the second that thought crossed your mind, you found yourself on the edge, and Art was above you, pressing soft kisses to your stomach, whispering soothing words while you caught your breath.

He entered you, and you felt like he was enveloping you from every angle, your moans blending together. You think a tear slipped down your cheek. You’re almost sure Art kissed you right where it fell. He was both gentle and rough at the same time. You don’t think that makes sense, but a lot of things tonight don’t make sense. You almost laugh at that thought but decide against it. Instead, you look at him, only to find his eyes already on yours, and he’s so beautiful, with his blond curls and that smile stretched across his face. “Fuck, Art,” you manage to mumble as you feel another orgasm building within you, you didn’t know you were capable of more than one. To be honest, even one was rare until recently. “I know, Daisy, I know,” he says in a half-strangled voice before his lips are back on yours, his hand wrapping around yours, and you think it’s incredibly intimate. You’ve never had sex like this before. You don’t think there’s any trace of your old crush left. You think it might be love. After he cleans you up with a towel he soaked with warm water, he lies beside you, and the small bed forces you to stay close. Maybe it’s Art who refuses to let go. You’re not sure why, but your legs are tangled together and your head is resting on his chest. “Are you going to break my heart again?” he asks, and you don’t know what he means because you’ve never broken anyone’s heart, least of all Art Donaldson’s. But he’s so certain in his question, he doesn’t take it back. He doesn’t correct himself. “When did I ever break your heart?” you asked. “When didn’t you?” he replies with a half-laugh. “You gave me a flower when I was eight and then didn’t talk to me for ten years,” he says quietly, like he’s sharing a secret you already knew but never understood.

It’s definitely love. You think you’re okay with that.

Hey? I don't even know what's going on but i'd like you to tell me what you think about that? that's it. Talk to me I guess.............

[respectthepetty]

Petty, I have a wild ass Jack and Joker theory, and I need to know what you think because we often end up in the clown car together, lol.

There's been a lot of talk/fears about Joke (and Toi Ting), now that we know character death is on the table - I'm not worried Joke will die (I am terrified they will gut us with Toi Ting but oh I hope not). I'm not saying that Joke isn't about to feel so responsible for what has happened that he's gonna get reckless with his life, because I absolutely think he will.

I think he's absolutely about to do some very stupid shit that could be his life in real danger as penance.

But I've been thinking for a while - since your initial posts about Hope and Save and their names - that Save is going to die. And now that I just skimmed a post that basically said that Joke and Save are the same character in different fonts and Save's guilt in episode 10, I'm absolutely positive.

Save is going to die.

Hope will live, because he has too. Without hope, we have nothing. (I also have a tangential theory that Save will die to save Hope, so...)

Thoughts?

Why not a third secret option? Why can’t everyone live? Since the show killed Jennie’s character, and the man who tried to run away with his few dollar bills died too, let’s just believe everyone remaining will survive! Even more, if Boss survives, then everyone BETTER live because no shitty father should survive when the possibility of a child dying is on the table. So I'm going to aim high because

Fortune Favors the Monkey King

Move over, Kitty! I'm driving this clown car straight to the opera house.

Because this is a Chinese opera.

We already know there is a Chinese influence in this story, as @veemark pointed out about the meal Joke ate with Jack and his grandma.

So with that in mind, in the fourth episode, when Nang punished the men for hurting her people, she drew the "09" stick (but she said nine-zero), which meant the men had to perform the Chinese opera of the Monkey King, which people in the tags thought was sooooo ridiculous!

In that same episode, Jack received his fortune, which was number 9 and stated, "When the fool changes black to white, the fate of the forgiver will change"

Now, skip to episode 9 when Joke gets "The Fool" card and changes the fate of Jack, the person who forgave him, so Jack's fortune was right.

Now, in episode 9, we also get the iconic team name "The Four Little Pigs"

And this is where the light bulb turned on because this is Journey to the West.

Journey to the West is an epic Chinese story that is 100 chapters long about a group of heroes having to complete a certain amount of tasks to achieve enlightenment.

The main character is Tang Sanzang who is basically a saint who wants to bring good to all the land and who everyone is in love with and wants to marry. We are introduced to him in chapter 9 of the story. He is the heart.

The first person he meets on his journey is the Monkey King, aka Sun Wukong, who was so great at being the best trickster that he became overconfident and ended up getting put in heavenly jail for 500 years. The first chapters of the story are actually about him. He is foolish, but he is also the mastermind.

He has a daughter, Yuebei Xing. She has her own story, Journey to the South. She is a badass. She fights monsters and lives to tell the tale.

The Monkey King is easily the most powerful of the bunch, but Tang Sanzang doesn't like the Monkey King's methods because they are immoral, so there is a gold ring involved that keeps him in check.

Or maybe it's this ring.

I think it's the second ring because a goddess, who keeps helping them along the way, helps them with the ring too. She is also cool.

Along the journey, they meet Zhu Wuneng, aka Pig. He is a smart fighter but he is greedy and selfish so he keeps taking shit he isn't supposed to, which constantly gets them in trouble. He is human nature (the world).

There is Sha Wujing aka Sandy, who was once a god, but shattered a crystal and ended up banished to earth to be a mortal. He is conformity without thought (the moon).

And finally, there is Bai Long Ma, who is a horse that they ride for transportation. He is human will (the star).

There is also a princess somewhere in there who must be saved from a marriage.

The group meets obstacles along the way, and lots of crazy shit goes down, but after 14 YEARS they finally come to the end of their journey.

And on their journey to achieve enlightenment they meet a squire whose loved one is kidnapped with the possibility of murder and another squire who is murdered and his wife is pissed about it because she did everything to make sure he wouldn't be harmed.

Now, if you gasped because you think Hope (or Save) will die, well . . . the number 14 fortune was Hope's.

The fortune was given in episode four which is the same episode Jack got his fortune, but it seemed like Hope's fortune played out in the same episode when he found Joke right across the hall staying with Jack.

But the thing is, in the Chinese story, regardless of which squire it is, they don't just need the Monkey King; they need the Monkey King's help.

So the Monkey King goes to the underworld to get the loved one back and succeeds (both times). But he still needs to save our saint!

Remember, the group has to do a certain number of deeds to bring peace to the land, so the group goes in to save their leader, and the ONLY reason they make it out is because all of the people they have helped along the way (especially the people the Monkey King has helped) return the favor and save them.

By saving others, they saved themselves.

So . . . I don't think anyone else is dying. However, it's been YEARS since I read a very condensed version of this story in Asian Rhetorics, and @journeytothewestresearch's blog helped me piece some of what I forgot together.

So I could be wrong, and everyone dies.

But I don't think so.

*fingers crossed that fortune favors the bold Monkey King*

[anonymousewrites]

A Not-So-Disastrous Romance (Book 2) Chapter Sixteen

Saiki Kusuo x Reader

Chapter Sixteen: Teruhashi's Tears and Rifuta's Crush

Summary: Teruhashi comes over and interrupts Saiki's New Year, but somehow she isn't the worst guest that comes. Also, (Y/N)'s hypothesis is spot-on about Rifuta.

            Mr. and Mrs. Saiki laughed as (Y/N) told them about one of the many (unfortunate) adventures they had been on with Saiki—this time a tale of the karaoke party where Saiki had to end up performing. Ordinarily, he wouldn’t want his parents to know he’d done something so public since it would encourage them to bother him to do stupid stuff in front of people, but it was a fond memory since (Y/N) had been there, taken most of the attention, and made the entire thing worth it. So, he let (Y/N) continue as they beamed when they remembered dancing around and pretended to do it again. All-in-all, this was turning out to be a perfect New Year’s Day.

            Alright, I’ve got the plan! I casually tell him Happy New Year, and then when I mention the festival, he’ll want to come along!

            Saiki’s mood darkened. Of course Teruhashi was already here to bother him on a lovely day. So, to stop her from interrupting, he grabbed onto the doorbell of his house with his psychic abilities and smothered the sound of it.

            There. No ruining my day.

            “Hey, can I help you?”

            Saiki jerked as he heard a voice speaking to Teruhashi. He hadn’t heard any other thoughts approaching, and the voice—

            Him!

            “What’s wrong, Kusuo?” asked (Y/N), noticing Saiki’s tiny change in mood.

            There was a knock at the door, and Mrs. Saiki stood. She peered out the window and beamed.

            “It’s Kusuke and Kokomi!” she said. “What a lovely surprise.”

            Oh, that explains his mood, thought (Y/N), smothering a little chuckle. Saiki saw their amusement and scowled—though there was no real malice. (Y/N) chuckled and patted his hand. “We’ll deal with it.”

            “Don’t let them in,” said Saiki as his mom headed to the door, but she was already opening the door.

            “Welcome in!” she said, beaming. “Oh, Kusuke, you’re home!”

            “Mom, it’s been a while,” said Kusuke, smiling.

            “Happy New Year,” greeted Teruhashi politely. She saw (Y/N) and started slightly. “Oh, (Y/N). You’re here?”

            Fortunately for Teruhashi, there was no annoyance at seeing them. They were friends, and that friendship meant Teruhashi’s inevitable jealousy at not getting Saiki alone was dampened. (And that was fortunate for Teruhashi because bad thoughts about (Y/N) meant getting onto Saiki’s bad side).

            “My parents are out of town on a work trip,” said (Y/N), smiling. “The Saikis were nice enough to invite me over.”

            That was the complete truth, they merely left out that Mrs. Saiki had also rambled about how “if (Y/N)’s family wasn’t going to take care of them as a family, then they were going to be part of the Saiki family, and Kusuo should get a move on and make sure they never leave because they’re just too sweet and—” (and so on and so forth).

            “When are your parents actually at the house?” said Saiki.

            (Y/N) shrugged. They were pretty much used to living independently at this point.

            “Wait, do you two know each other?” said Mr. Saiki, looking between Teruhashi and Kusuke.

            “She was ringing the doorbell, so I brought her in,” said Kusuke. His intelligence had just known it would irritate Saiki.

            “The doorbell?” said Mr. Saiki.

            “Oh, my, I’m so sorry, I didn’t hear it!” said Mrs. Saiki.

            (Y/N) raised an eyebrow at Saiki. He looked away, and they tutted.

            This is a huge revelation! I had no idea Saiki had an older brother! thought Teruhashi. But I don’t really like his type…Speaking of siblings “Is Kuriko here today?”

            “What?” said Saiki’s parents.

            Oh, right. Saiki had forgotten about his feminine name. I pretended to by my own sister, who doesn’t exist. I have to let them know.

            “Kuriko?” said Mrs. Saiki, frowning.

            “Oh, right, kuriko!” Mr. Saiki grabbed something from the kitchen—literal kuriko. “Here is kuriko for you.”

            That’s kuri chestnut paste.

            “No, I mean Saiki’s sister,” said Teruhashi. She looked at (Y/N). “You met her.”

            “Right,” said (Y/N), smiling. “Isn’t it amazing how similar she and Kusuo look? Especially since their brother—”

            “You can call me Kusuke,” said Kusuke.

            “No.” Saiki didn’t need him being familiar or friendly with his partner.

            “—looks so different with the blonde hair. Kuriko and Kusuo both have pink,” said (Y/N).

            “That’s true,” said Teruhashi, smiling.

            Good clue, thought Saiki. Hopefully his parents would get the hint.

            “I don’t know any Kur—Mm!”

            Kusuke shoved the kuri chestnut paste into his dad’s mouth and smiled. “Oh, of course! Our sister, Kuriko.” Of course the genius had figured the plot out. “She’s abroad right now, like I was. You know her?”

            “Oh, really?” said Mr. Saiki, still a little confused but starting to get it.

            “I do,” said Teruhashi.

            Unbelievable, thought Saiki.

            “Which country did she go to?” asked Teruhashi.

            “Paraguay,” said Mr. Saiki.

            “Paraguay?” said Teruhashi, amazed.

            “Shut up,” said Saiki to Mr. Saiki.

            “Kusuo, I have a present for you!” said Kusuke, successfully changing the subject (not that a “gift” from Kusuke would be much better than the present conversation). “I have one for you, too, (Y/N)!” He held up envelopes.

            Never mind, this is good. Saiki could see the money inside with his x-ray vision.

            “Oh, I can’t accept that,” said (Y/N), waving their hands.

            Teruhashi glanced between (Y/N) and the envelope. Saiki’s brother prepared a gift for them? That’s very close…

            “Well, you are Kusuo’s pa—”

            “Pal!” interrupted (Y/N) before Kusuke could blurt out the word “partner.” Embarrassed, they took the enveloped and bowed. “Thank you!”

            Close one… (Y/N) and Saiki breathed a sigh of relief.

            We need to get out of here, thought Saiki. He tapped (Y/N) on the shoulder and gestured to the door.

            They nodded and grabbed their coat—pink with hearts embroidered on the pockets. They headed towards the door, and Saiki pulled on his boots.

            “We should invite Kokomi,” whispered (Y/N).

            “No,” said Saiki. He wanted a nice moment with (Y/N).

            “She and Kusuke with each other is going to be a problem,” pointed out (Y/N).

            Saiki hated they were right. “Fine, but then we go out the two of us.”

            “Of course,” said (Y/N), kissing Saiki’s cheek before going back to the living room to invite Kokomi.

            Saiki let out a little sigh. Oh, wow. He’d never get tired of their affection.

l

            This is the worst-case scenario. Saiki glared ahead of himself as Kusuke walked through the crowd with them.

            Why is his brother tagging along? Teruhashi had deflated. With (Y/N) at least that was a friend and she could still have a moment with Saiki—Not happening—but with Kusuke, that was going to be weird.

            I should have known Kusuke would tag along, thought (Y/N). The genius had known what would annoy Saiki.

            I need to get out of here with (Y/N), decided Saiki. Risking Teruhashi and Kusuke interacting was fine—he was too tired to care.

            “By the way, do you have a crush on Kusuo?” said Kusuke, turning around with an “innocent” smile. He looked directly at Teruhashi.

            Her face promptly turned several shades of red, and she coughed. “You shouldn’t embarrass Saiki like that!” she said nervously. “And we’re just friends! It’s nothing more!”

            “Oh, good,” said Kusuke.

            He knows she’s lying. (Y/N) and Saiki exchanged a worried glance.

            I knew I wouldn’t like him, thought Teruhashi.

            “I mean, you obviously don’t have anything in common,” said Kusuke, still with that “innocent” smile. “You’re different as night and day.”

            “What?” said Teruhashi. “Saiki and I have plenty—”

            “What are you saying?” Kusuke’s smile had dropped, and he looked at her coldly.

            “What?” said Teruhashi.

            “I can see through you. You’re not worthy of Kusuo,” said Kusuke.

            Teruhashi froze. No one had ever spoken to her like that.

            “You thought you could fool me?” said Kusuke. “Well, it’s to be expected. You probably have been pampered your whole life because of your looks. But Kusuo is on a different level.”

            “Hey!” said (Y/N), glaring at him. “Leave Kokomi alone!” Even if they knew Teruhashi didn’t have a chance with Saiki, Kusuke was just being mean.

            I realize now why I don’t like this guy, thought Teruhashi, staring at Kusuke with wide, shocked eyes. He hasn’t gasped even once since meeting me. There’s never been anyone who wasn’t interested in me.

            “Come on, Kokomi. Let’s leave this jerk,” said (Y/N), taking Teruhashi’s hand. Kusuke had been unnecessarily cruel, and (Y/N) wasn’t going to stand around while their friend was hurt.

            “Don’t look at me like that, Kusuo,” said Kusuke as Saiki glared. “I was just teasing her. We both know only one person is worthy of you, and that’s because they aren’t shallow and have some real spirit! They stand up to everyone! That’s some real power against a monster like you.”

            Saiki ignored the insults directed at him and the compliments towards (Y/N). (He wasn’t sure whether to be pleased that his entire family liked (Y/N) or irritated that even his annoying brother liked them).

            “Kokomi?” said (Y/N), gazing at their friend in worry. They still held her hand.

            I’ve never felt such shame. I won’t forgive him! declared Teruhashi. She sniffled, and a tear fell. “I—I never meant to—”

            “Sorry, I know you’re a talented actress, too,” said Kusuke, looking past the crying. But everyone else was glaring at him as the crowd noticed the perfect pretty girl crying. “What’s going on? These people are surrounding us.”

            “They’re surrounding you. Not us,” said Saiki, taking (Y/N)’s hand and pulling them back as the crowd advanced on Kusuke.

            My secret pretty girl technique, Angel Tears! thought Teruhashi.

            “Who do you think you are?!” shouted the crowd. “You made Teruhashi cry!” They rushed Kusuke.

            “Are these all her boyfriends?” he remarked.

            “We’ll bash your head in!” cried the crowd.

            “Kusuo? (Y/N)?” Kusuke sweat-dropped and looked at them.

            “What do you want us to do?” said Saiki, deadpan.

            “Get him!” The crowd jumped onto Kusuke.

            “Wow, he was defeated by Kokomi,” said (Y/N), impressed.

            “And there’s a perfect distraction.” Saiki pulled (Y/N) through the crowd as Teruhashi watched her “hard work” proudly.

            “Shouldn’t we be worried about Kusuke?” said (Y/N), looking back at the crowd.

            “He’ll be fine. He always has a plan,” said Saiki.

            “Fair enough,” chuckled (Y/N). “And he does deserve a little bit of fear for being so mean.”

            Saiki smirked. He agreed. And, now, as he pulled (Y/N) far away from Teruhashi and her fans, he could really enjoy the New Year Festival. With (Y/N) and only (Y/N).

            “We should go on the Ferris Wheel,” said (Y/N) excitedly, squeezing his hand.

            “Okay.” Anything they wanted, they were getting.

            And so, he let them lead him to the line and watched them grin out the window of the compartment all the way to the top. (Y/N) smiled as they saw the city spread out before them, all the people small and faraway.

            “So pretty,” they said, smiling.

            “Very,” agreed Saiki. But he wasn’t looking at the view. No, he was looking at the smile on (Y/N)’s face. And, unable to help himself—why would he when they looked so handsome in the golden light of the sun—he leaned and kissed their cheek.

            (Y/N)’s cheeks warmed, they turned towards him, and, before he could pull back, (Y/N) kissed him. Saiki happily kissed back.

            A perfect New Years.

            What could be better than this?

l

            “We have a problem,” said Saiki as the lunch bell rang.

            “Huh?” said (Y/N). “Are you alright?”

            “Rifuta is going to try to confess to me,” said Saiki.

            “Uh-oh,” said (Y/N). They had forgotten about Rifuta developing a crush on Saiki (though they also knew that Rifuta 100% also had a crush on Teruhashi and was a bit confused).

            “Let’s leave to eat lunch before she gets here,” said Saiki.

            “Got it,” said (Y/N), grabbing their bento box and following Saiki out. They took the long way around the school and headed to the yard. There were too many people around for Rifuta to confess, so that was good.

            “I’ve been using my telepathy to give her dreams so that she hates me, but it’s not working,” said Saiki.

            “She and Kokomi are very single-minded,” said (Y/N). They paused. “But I think that Rifuta is just a bit confused. Maybe if you get her to realize she’s head-over-heels for Kokomi more than she is for you, that’ll help?”

            “…She’d hate me for Teruhashi liking me, and then my reputation would be ruined,” said Saiki.

            “Fair point.” (Y/N) winced. They’d seen Kusuke get dragged away by people who were angry that Teruhashi was upset, and they didn’t want to see what would happen to Saiki if he upset Rifuta—it wouldn’t be as bad as upsetting Teruhashi, but it wasn’t preferable. “So what do we do?”

            “I don’t know,” said Saiki.

            “…What if we acted closer?” said (Y/N).

            Saiki looked at them. “What?”

            “If Rifuta thinks you’re dating someone, she’ll back off. She’s just competing with Teruhashi, not really interested in you, so it could help,” said (Y/N). They waved their hands. “I-It doesn’t have to be me so it’s not obvious we’re really dating, we can get Miko or something, but it’s just an idea—”

            “Let’s do it.” Saiki was desperate to get Rifuta off his back, and maybe being unavailable would explain his “unbelievable” disinterest in Rifuta.

            “Okay, I’ll text Miko—”

            “No, you and me.”

            “Are you sure? If she really believes we’re dating, that’s another person finding out,” said (Y/N). “And it could get out that we’re dating—”

            “If it does, it does. It has to happen at some point,” said Saiki.

The blowback from Teruhashi and the craziness of people finding out would be troublesome, but if it meant just being himself with (Y/N), in public, then he was fine with it. (Y/N) and Saiki both knew their relationship as their business and no one else’s, but they supposed it would have to happen at some point.

            Plus, this could begin to get the idea of them dating into people’s heads so when it finally came out it made a sense. It eased people into it so they didn’t freak. (Honestly, it was fairly obvious to the audience that they liked one another, so why wouldn’t it be for people in the story?)

            “Okay,” said (Y/N). “Then we’ll act affectionate to get Rifuta to realize you’re not interested for a real reason.”

            Saiki nodded.

l

            (Y/N) counted to ten as Saiki entered the lobby of the school to get his shoes. Rifuta was waiting for him, and he had walked right by her. Now it was their turn. They were a little giddy at the idea of being affectionate with Saiki in public. They weren’t a huge PDA person, and they didn’t care about people knowing they were dating—they didn’t act much differently than they had before except for being sweeter and kissing—but this was still fun.

            Alright. Here we go.

            “Kusuo!” (Y/N) smiled as they rounded the corner and walked up to Saiki. They took his hand. “Are you ready to go out?” They leaned in, their head on his shoulder.

            “What?” Rifuta couldn’t help but speak aloud as she stared at the sight. He’s got a partner?! Really? No way!

            “I am,” said Saiki, brushing their hair from their face affectionately. “Let’s go.”

            “Saiki! Is that your partner?” said Rifuta, getting right to it. Her hands were on her hips as she looked between the pair.

            Didn’t expect her to be so direct. I guess someone else is really finding out today.

            “I am,” said (Y/N), smiling.

            “Your Teruhashi’s friend and are dating him?” said Rifuta, hands on her hips.

            “Hm? What does Teruhashi have to do with who’s dating him?” said (Y/N), tilting their head in “confusion.”

            They don’t know Teruhashi likes him?! Oh, no! How will Teruhashi feel?!

            Saiki heard Rifuta’s thoughts and blinked. (Y/N)’s analysis of a suppressed crush on Teruhashi was correct.

            “W-Well, uh, doesn’t your friend know?” said Rifuta, trying to cover.

            “I think relationships are very private. Don’t you?” said (Y/N), smiling and friendly as ever.

            “I, uh, I guess—” Rifuta was growing confused by her worry for Teruhashi and how to react to (Y/N) still being sweet as usual. No thoughts of liking Saiki herself came to her mind—Saiki was pleased by that. I don’t feel jealousy, hate, or anything. Weird. I’m just confused. I guess I don’t like him after all?

            Looks like it went well, thought Saiki.

            But then why do I still feel so upset? Why does my stomach hurt? Why do I keep thinking about how Teruhashi will react to this? thought Rifuta.

            “Uh, oh, Kusuo, Kokomi’s coming,” said (Y/N), seeing a glow appearing at the end of the hall. “I don’t think we can risk her finding out.” Her crush was still so steady that the blowback to their friendship would be horrendous.

            Oh, no! Teruhashi is coming! She’ll see them together! I have to do something!

            What?

            Rifuta shoved (Y/N) and Saiki forward, and they stumbled into the storage closet. She slammed it closed behind them and stood in front.

            …Huh?

            I did not see that coming.

            “Oh, Imu!” said Teruhashi, spotting her friend. “Long time no see.”

            “Y-Yes,” said Rifuta, growing nervous.

            “What’s was that?” whispered (Y/N), looking at Saiki.

            “I don’t know.” He supported himself by his arms, but they were still incredibly close in the cramped closet. “Ask the girl who shoved us in here.”

            “Are you on your way home?” said Teruhashi, smiling.

            “Yes, I’ll be leaving soon, too,” said Rifuta. Why did I cover for them? Because she would be sad if she saw?

            “Let’s go home together!” Teruhashi grinned and linked her arm with Rifuta’s.

            Rifuta blushed, and her heart pounded. She’s so close! Wow! Shaking her head, she pulled away. No, no way! If you think everything is fine, you’re mistaken! She steeled herself and looked at Teruhashi. “Do you like Saiki, Teruhashi?” If she admits she likes him, I’ll open the door and show her! I’ll make you cry your eyes out!

            Saiki and (Y/N)’s eyes widened. If they were found like this and their relationship came out—Oh, boy. Teruhashi would be upset, and they’d be hunted down for the rest of their days.

            Nervously, Teruhashi blushed. “Y-yes. I’ve never really liked a boy before, so I’m not sure, but I think I do.”

            “Why? Was it love at first sight?” said Rifuta.

            “No. I was the opposite,” said Teruhashi. “At first, I didn’t like how he was never attracted to me. I was so angry with him that I couldn’t stop thinking about him.”

            I see. I get it now, thought Rifuta.

            I knew it was the idea of someone not treating her as a pretty thing to look at, thought (Y/N). Teruhashi needed to be valued as more than her looks, and Saiki was the first person to look at her without paying attention to her appearance, which was attractive to her.

            Teruhashi! I love you! Rifuta hugged Teruhashi suddenly.

            “Not what I expected,” murmured Saiki.

            “Huh?” said (Y/N).

            “She loves Teruhashi,” said Saiki. “You were right.”

            I’ll never beat her beauty and kindness! Rifuta held Teruhashi close.

            “What’s going on, Imu?” asked Teruhashi, confused.

            I’m so hopeless! I love her! Rifuta smiled with a wide smile.

            “I knew it,” asid (Y/N), smiling.

            “What’s the matter?” asked Teruhashi.

            I felt such anger because Saiki didn’t choose Teruhashi, but now I’m so relieved you weren’t taken from me. “I’m rooting for you!” said Rifuta. Even if she was lying a bit, she wanted Teruhashi to be in a fulfilling relationship. “I want you to be happy!”

            “What’s gotten into you?” asked Teruhashi, worried at the sudden change in attitude.

            “This is so much worse,” said Saiki.

            “It’s nothing. Let’s go home together,” said Rifuta.

            “She’s going to help Teruhashi,” groaned Saiki as Rifuta and Teruhashi walked away from the closet.

            “Uh-oh. I guess this backfired a bit?” said (Y/N), wincing. “Sorry. It was my idea.”

            Saiki shook his head. “It’s fine. Rifuta just had a realization. It had to happen at some point.”

            “Who else would be someone’s gay awakening?” laughed (Y/N) slightly. They reached for the door handle. “At least we can leave now and one less person has a crush on you. And we didn’t get found in here. That would have been a scandal.”

            “Scandalous, huh?” Saiki smirked slightly.

            (Y/N) looked at his expression. “Uh, Kusuo? You alright?”

            Saiki leaned in and kissed them. (Y/N) was surprised but kissed back—they weren’t saying no to a kiss from Saiki. One of his hands supporting himself went to their waist and pulled them closer. (Y/N)’s felt the pressure and smiled into the kiss. Their hands rose and tangled into his hair as he kissed them.

            When the passionate kiss ended, Saiki leaned his forehead against theirs. “That is scandalous.”

            (Y/N) looked at him, breathless. “When did you become a flirt?”

            Saiki just smiled, leaned back in, and kissed them.

            “We—” kiss “—have—” kiss “—to—” kiss “—go—” kiss “—home—” (Y/N) spoke between kisses.

            Effortlessly, Saiki teleported them and their belongings back to his house, all the while continuing to kiss them. “There. Let me kiss you.”

            (Y/N) laughed, pulled him in, and kissed him.

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[magesforthedas]

Just have to share this, because I keep seeing critiques of Veilguard that like, try to guilt people who say they love, or even like the game. And HEAVY critiques of the protagonist, Rook, and how they aren't really a hero.

ALSO it contains some SPOILERS so just be warned ☺️ and an edit of additional thoughts now!

Like, yeah I have a couple gripes about the game, but overall it's emotional and amazing and I care about the characters so deeply. I keep seeing how people are saying how Rook and the party were not well written because they caused a lot of death?? This is Dragon Age, everything always goes from bad to worse, but the characters always bring out the light.

Rook was put in a very shitty situation, and I've seen people say they caused the destruction of thousands by trying to prevent the hundreds. But how many people, before the game came out, said Solas's plan to tear down the veil was a bad idea? Not all, I'm sure, but most. I always viewed it, and I know I wasn't alone, as that by trying to "fix" things Solas was just justifying his selfish wants, when he knew somewhere in his heart that the people of today, including the elves that he was "doing this for", would rather live alongside their friends & family in a world without their old magic, than live in a world with it alone.

That being said, even with differing views in and out of the game, it's very reasonable that a group of people would try to stop him, not know the consequences. And the beautiful thing about Rook, why Varric chose THEM, is that they saw what they had created, and didn't give up, didn't leave it to someone else to fix. Whether or not it was really their fault they stepped up and tried to save the world the best they could, from the mistake they unwittingly made (which I would argue against the fact that they made a "mistake", looking at that they were hired to do a job & by successfully completing that job there were unintended consequences).

Parallels anyone? Dragon Age loves those. But the difference, again illustrated in the game, is that while Solas couldn't move past the regret of his mistakes, Rook could. And on the topic of the deaths of those around them, not everyone that died in the past was Solas's fault, but some he did directly lead to their deaths. And he accepted that, did it over & over. Rook never led anyone to their death. Rook walked willingly into it themselves, and the love and trust their companions felt led them to choose to die for Rook, and the world instead.

And people who say the destruction of the south means the earlier games were for nothing? How so? 20 years ago, 10 years ago, things were happening, people were dying that needed saving. The heroes of that age saved the world so it would still be around to save now. And who knows what the south really looks like, or what it might look like as and after rebuilding? We will, in another 10 years once BioWare comes out with more content I suppose, and I wouldn't be surprised if everyone we knew is dead, but I also wouldn't be surprised if many, many of them lived.

Because that is Dragon Age. Death, betrayal, sacrifice, cruelty, pain. It's a dark, dark world. But there is always a ray of light, of hope. And characters who will do their utmost to protect that .

EDIT: Adding!! To this!! And more spoilers!!!

We know because of the Wetlands that it's possible to cause the Blight to pull back. In the end scene, as people are being broken out of the Blight Roots, it seems to me like it's died, at least to some degree. In my playthrough, Neve was cured of her blight sickness. There's obviously some immediate changes, and that all means that the South could have had an immediate reprieve. Plus, once more surviving wardens from Weisshaupt are free to travel south, and all the factions up north get things relatively in order, the South could get a lot of assistance.

The South was overrun... By hordes, by growths? That's the land, what about the people? Could the combined might of the Inquisitor, the Chantry, The Free Marches, Fereldan's ruler, have evacuated enough people that the death toll might be high, but not totally catastrophic? Enough people have survived to rebuild, maybe with a better, more unified attitude towards one another?

(The last bit may be wishful thinking 🥲)

But still!! We have no idea what exactly happened down there. And no matter what, Rook did the best they could, they WERE a hero, and made a difference not only for the North, but everywhere affected.

And yes, I might complain about this or that, mainly that we don't get to put more past game decisions in.... But I love this game and that won't change.

[k-tarotz]

mtl enha who'd be more into serious relationship ? 🥰

MTL - who prefers serious relationships - Enhypen

Sunghoon

Jay

Niki

Jungwon

Heesung

Jake

Sunoo

Sunghoon and Jay's energy are more like "I want something stable, even in chaotic times where nothing is set in stone I want to have this one person in my life who will always be here for me even if everything else is burning around me" Hmm although jay would be more open to go on dates, like multiple ones, to get to know xzy better and to see if they are compatible if so he would go on more dates with the person and become a couple if it feels right, if not he would accept that it's just not meant to be and move on - going on dates with someone else. Not necessarily within a short time range, his career seems more important to him, but he kinda has the mindset of 'this could be the one this time!' You know? Kinda hopeful for himself, he doesn't want to accidentally miss his s/o also more open to look for love, he wants love in his life.

Meanwhile sunghoon is a bit more picky on that, he doesn't go on dates and if he does it's rarely, I can see him not really having the energy for this unless he is really interested in a person and wants to get to know them for real. So he is more likely to turn down date's if he doesn't already feel interested at least in some type of way. He has the mindset of "if it's meant to be it will happen regardless" also believes more in fate and soulmates, that there is always a way that his romantic soulmate will find him somehow and if necessary more than once. His energy is telling me that he is insecure and in his low moments he even thinks 'would they even love me the way I am right now?' Talking about that, another reason why he rarely goes on dates is also because he doesn't want to date or even become a couple with someone who only likes him for his fame or his looks - this boy has been asked out many many times in his life, even before he became an idol, he is aware that there are people, regardless if it's fans or someone in the same industry as him, who literally only want him for his public persona, his looks or his fame but he doesn't want that, he wants someone who will like him for his personality and he says that's not as smooth as it might seem but I won't get into this further. Sunghoon would also like his parents to approve of whoever he will end up with, it seems important to him at least that's his mindset for now.

Niki is similar to jay and sunghoon, he also wants to find the one and wants to feel loved while giving love back, he is more likely to turn dates down too but might ask someone out if they catch his eye - especially with some sort of talent, like dancing. He is a bit unsure what exactly he wants yet, might be attracted to different kind of people (so for example he doesn't prefer only cute girls/boys or only sexy ones) it's like everyone is different so they can have a different charm and whatever suits them he will be attracted to them rather for themselves than their style - and of course the personality too although he might prefer someone who's a bit calmer/cooler vibe than someone who's very extroverted and loves spotlight (not saying he wouldn't be interested in someone who's extroverted as long as it's not too much)

Jungwon would prefer a serious relationship too, one thar can last a few years, but he also doesn't want to settle down too fast? So if he looses feelings or something happens within the relationship that lasted years then he wouldn't mind breaking up and moving on instead of trying to fix something that's too broken to fix. He definitely wants to make more experiences and therefore is more open for dates, might as well get a bit touchy if the setting and everything else feels right (he doesn't mean sexual things though, especially not on the first nor second date) his energy is also telling me that he is the type who would be interested in both - fans and other idols / someone who's a public person

Heesung, Jake and sunoo are the type who don't want anything serious yet - though if it happens they will stay. What I'm hearing is "I'm still young" so they definitely want to date around more and are also more willing to get into short term relationships knowing they won't last as long as it feels good and right in the moment. Sunoos energy seems a bit hurt, his relationships doesn't always end on good terms despite that he knows that it wasn't meant to last, but the way of the break up sometimes leave a small scar on his soul. He's a bit different from Jake and Heesung in this because he wouldn't actually mind being in a longterm relationship, he definitely wants someone stable in his life who he can genuinely open up to and be just himself also someone he can tell anything to, who won't kiss and tell, so definitely someone trustworthy - but for some reason it just doesn't want to turn out the way he wants to. "Why does everyone get a happy ending but not me?" He is emotionally very vulnerable, he wants someone who will last although he thinks sometimes like "even if this one won't last, I want to be happy for aa long as I can until it ends" he also gets crushes quite easily, not serious ones but still. From those two he is definitely more open for a serious relationship, but can handle shorter ones good as long as they don't end messy/painfully because he can move on and he knows his own worth and believes almost manifests someone new into his life. Jake and Heesung are similar to each other in this sense because they would prefer making more experiences (sexually as well) with more than just one or two people in their life. Definitely both of them are more open for dates, one of them might even find it a bit thrilling to kiss without knowing thr other one's name yet, only finding it out afterwards. Looks and talents is what would sway them, personality would make them stay. Both of them the types to get into short-term relationships without regrets (as long as it doesn't end messy/painful) "I'll marry the one o truly love when I will be ready, but right now I am not, it will take a few years and until then I want to be free" also both of them seem to prefer being more experienced than their future spouse's, kinda want to hear how good they are right at their first time with their fs (no idea why they wanted me to tell this but ig I appreciate the honesty😭)

This was kind of a bit chaotic but very real, no sugarcoating. This was done intuitively although afterwards I checked with my tarot cards to make sure I didn't misinterpret any message of their energies 🫶🏻 some were more willing to talk than others and I won't force anyone to say more than they want, therefore some members sections are a bit shorter and some a bit longer 🩵

- Hun

[ashwhowrites]

Hello! Can I request Eddie Munson and reader with miscommunication trope and halloween theme?

I thought about how they would spend their first halloween together as a couple. Every year as friends she and Eddie used to go to some party but these year they planned date at the trailer.

Reader heard one of Eddie's band friend saying that they're disappointed about Eddie ditching them and the party on halloween because now he has a girlfriend.

She feels guilty about it and thinks that Eddie would rather go to the party.

But in reality, Eddie is super excited about their halloween date at home. He has a lot of decorations, snacks and a few movies. He also planned to cook for her.

He adores the idea of cozy evening with his loved one and not at loud party where he went to not be alone during halloween night as a single and ends watching some guys talk to her while he wasn't brave enough to confess.

With a happy end pretty please ❤️

A bit late, my bad. But I think it's cute! So I hope you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Halloween night

Y/N was excited to spend Halloween with Eddie for the first time as a couple. They usually go to Halloween parties with Eddie's friends but this year they wanted to be alone. They agreed on a movie night at the trailer, something cozy and warm.

Y/N didn't think anyone would have an issue with it, but she was wrong. As she waited for Eddie to finish collecting his things after his gig, she overheard a few of the band members talking.

"I can't believe Eddie isn't going. Like why do boys get so lame once they have a girlfriend."

"I know. I don't understand why they both can't join us, it's only been the tradition for years."

"Probably Y/N. No way Eddie would ditch the party if he had the choice."

Y/N felt her stomach turn sour. She was friends with these guys and they were talking behind her back. It seemed like Eddie loved the idea of being alone, but maybe he'd rather be at the party?

"Ready to go?" Eddie asked, throwing his arm over her shoulder.

"Yeah, let's go," Y/N said, putting on a fake smile as they walked out of the bar.

~~~

Y/N wanted to forget what her friends said, but she couldn't. She didn't want Eddie to ruin his relationship with his friends because of her. With everything weighing on her shoulders, it was easy to tell she was in distress.

Y/N showed up to his trailer, nervously knocking. Eddie opened the door with a huge smile and let her through. She stepped in and her negative mood vanished. She took in the orange and purple lights, the Halloween blankets on the couch, and the coffee table covered in snacks.

"What's all this?" she gasped in awe, turning around to see him. She smiled at the proud look on his face.

"Date night!" he smiled, "dinner is in the oven. Take off your jacket, and anything else you want," he said with a small wink, "and get comfortable on the couch. I'll bring your plate right over."

Y/N took off her jacket, throwing it over the couch. She took a seat, cuddling under the warm blanket. Eddie walked over with a plate of food and took the seat next to her.

"What? Does it look gross?" Eddie asked nervously, watching her face as she scrunched her eyebrows.

"No! It looks great, Eddie," she said, but he didn't look convinced.

"Is something else wrong?"

Y/N sighed, this was the time to talk about it. She set down her plate and bunched the blanket in her hands.

"You know how we usually go to parties with the boys?"

Eddie nodded, setting down his plate. His full attention was on her as he listened.

"Are you disappointed we didn't go?" she asked, nervously looking at his face.

"Not really. I never had much fun at those parties anyway," Eddie shrugged, "Do you want to go?"

"No! I love being alone with you," she said, moving closer to his warm body. She slipped on his lap, and he wrapped his arms around her. "I love the decorations and all the work you put into it."

"I love being alone with you too," he smiled. Kissing her cheek before he pulled away to look at her again. "So why do you ask?"

Y/N let out a deep sigh, making Eddie rub her back for comfort. "It's just I overheard our friends talking about how they were disappointed you weren't going. And I worried you might have wanted to be with them."

"You want to know a secret?" he whispered, she smiled and nodded.

"I dreaded those parties, hated every second of it, but you were there so I knew I wanted to be."

"Why did you hate it? You always seemed to be having fun with the guys."

"Yeah with the guys once I got drunk. But I spent the first few hours sitting alone and watching everyone flirt with you. Watching guys make their moves when I was too scared to say anything."

Y/N's heart warmed. She never knew Eddie watched her all those years. She was never interested in any of the guys that came up to her, her heart was set on Eddie.

"I didn't know you did that," she blushed.

"So fuck the guys. I want to be with my girl, without fighting for her attention," Eddie laughed at the end, a cheeky smile on his face.

"Never have to fight for attention," she said, pecking his lips softly.

Eddie kissed her back, her lips never failed to make his stomach flutter. He waited until she pulled away, letting her lips move off of his.

"Feel better?" he asked

"Yes, let's eat dinner and watch our movies," she smiled, sliding off his lap. She picked up her plate, smiling to herself as he turned on the movie.

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt @ineedmentalhelp123

[cryptid-intraining]

I think there is something that needs to be discussed with Lando fans about the whole mental health topic. Absolutely, people have gone too far with the Lando hate, death threats, actual bullying, harassment, taking shit out of context, that is never okay and I will never support that. rivalries and "hating" teams is supposed to just to be another fun thing about sports and people have definitely ruined that a bit.

However. People keep bringing up how Lando is open about mental health and his own struggles and how he's an advocate for these things and it just doesn't sit well with me in context to the things he has said about other drivers. I'm not talking about the weird comments in the cool down room or the "simply lovely" thing, those are arguably just incidents where he has read the room wrong or just not been able to keep quiet in the heat of the moment which is excusable- I don't have to like it, in fact it's the main reason why I don't like him, but at the end of the day it's not that deep.

But I genuinely cannot find any reason, excuse, justification for the shit he said about George and Lewis after Singapore on stream. And I'm not saying this or making this post just to give shit about it, I genuinely cannot fathom why he said that, it is such a meanspirited, childish, and unsportsmanlike thing to say and it cannot be chocked up to the heat of the moment because this was well after the race. A race that he won! By a huge margin. People can claim that maybe he's just a sore loser but that doesn't work in this context.

As much as I don't like him, it actually gave me whiplash because it just was honestly such a mean and self absorbed thing to say.

I think there is important nuance to any conversation about mental health (and yes I know I'm talking about nuance on the internet, not a great idea) because yes, Lando has his own struggles and people shouldn't be disregarding that or saying it's now a big deal because he's rich or famous, that's weird, but he's also an adult, who is responsible for his own actions and choices and is absolutely not exempt from criticism just because he has mental health struggles.

Everyone has mental health struggles, just because you don't see it doesn't mean it isn't there- you can't sit there and try and say that a guy with as fucked up a childhood as Max Verstappen doesn't have mental health issues- and using mental health as a blank defense for Lando isn't the progressive move people think it is.

It also annoys me when people try to make it out as if Lando is the only person on the grid to advocate for mental health when Lewis has been doing it for years but that is an entirely different conversation.

[bishopmyrielfundraiser]

even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise--

--as Victor Hugo didn't actually say.

The Winter 2025 Bishop Myriel Fundraiser is now open. This year will be dedicated to immigrants, many of whom are languishing in private prisons whose stock just went way, way up.

Our goal this year is at least 25 auction items and over $1000 in funds raised. If you've never participated before, this is your year. DM if you would like to participate but need advice!

Get your fic, art, books, crafts, costumes, and other offers ready. You can submit them according to the rules under the cut, and bidding on each item will start as soon as it is posted. Bidding in REPLIES, NOT REBLOGS, will continue through the end of December 21st, the darkest night of the year.

The recommended places to donate this year are: 1) RAICES Texas, an immigration-focused group which freed more than 2,000 people from immigration detention over the years. They fought to reunify families when children were ripped from their parents' arms during the first Trump administration, and have now pivoted to using funds to provide legal support for the detained, while continuing to pay bonds for those clients.

2) Annunciation House, a shelter serving immigrants. Run by Catholics in Texas who open their doors to the stranger without asking to see their papers, this year they faced down a vicious attempt by the Texas government to shut them down as a "stash house." The attorney general claimed in court that they followed "a more Bohemian set of ‘seven commandments,’ including commandments to ‘visit’ people when ‘incarcerated’ and ‘care (for them) when they’re sick.'” What could be more in the spirit of this fundraiser's namesake, Bishop Myriel? If you are not in the US and/or find it difficult to donate via those pages and/or want to support a particular organization doing good work to assist immigrants that's not listed above, please feel free to select another organization. From groups funding rescue ships in the Mediterranean to those supporting refugees stuck in camps around the world, there is a lot of good work to be done.

Rules for submitting your offers and bidding on them under the cut

Rules

1. Offering

SUBMIT your offering post to this blog! Include a link to this rules post in your own post, and also a minimum starting offer for your item, which can be a fic, art, or a physical item--be creative! Your offer does NOT have to be connected to the Les Misérables fandom, although such items are always welcome! Any terms and conditions of your offer should also be included in the post, eg what fandoms you are wiling to write for, any hard no’s on content, etc. Offer posts can keep coming in through the SUBMIT button until the auction closes.

2. Bidding

Bidding on each item opens as it is posted. Only bid on items tagged #Winter25. There will also be a masterpost to help distinguish this year's items from last years. Bid in REPLIES NOT REBLOGS (this is important because replies enable me to figure out who bid when and avoid conflicts) until 11:59PM Eastern Time December 21st, 2024. The highest bidder at that time will be the winner. Bidding can start as each item is posted.

3. Claiming or delivering your item

Please do not donate your bid until I have contacted you to inform you that you won the item!

If you have won an item, I will contact you directly via DM and ask you to provide a receipt or other verification for a donation to an immigration organization in the amount bid. This DM may come from either @bishopmyrielfundraiser or my main blog @lifeisyetfair. After you have made your donation, send such the receipt or verification bishopmyrielfundraiser@gmail.com or in a screenshot on Tumblr. Make sure the proof contains the amount you donated!

AFTER I have verified your donation, I will contact the offerer to let them know they can deliver the item. If you do not respond at all to my attempts to contact you within one week, I will move on to the next highest bidder. So check your DMs.

4. Sending the item you offered

All items should be delivered by March 31st, 2025 at the absolute latest, unless you have made other arrangements, eg the custom item/fic takes longer than that to create or write and you communicate about this. Earlier is even better, but remember that the most important thing is to keep the winner informed and make sure everyone has a good time.

[frozen-snowflakesandsunflowers]

Jared Bush says Frozen 3 will surprise people | Latest Updates

In an interview during D23, last weekend in Brazil, Jared Bush, the recently appointed CCO, gave away some teases about Moana 2, Zootopia 2 and the future of Encanto, but he also mentions a bit about Frozen 3.

He says:

“Yeah, yeah, Frozen 3 is coming. And from what I've seen so far [of the film] I think people are going to be surprised. I can’t give away too many spoilers, other than to say that Jennifer Lee is leading the charge and that the story and the direction that she’s taking these characters, what they’re facing, what they’re going to go through, I think is going to surprise a lot of people but it's also going to deliver on everything that people love about Frozen.”

So surprised is the word he uses to describe how we'll react to Frozen 3. That's given because as Jen has said recently that the concept art that was shown during this year's first D23 is just a glimpse of what we could see in the movie. Apart from what we make from that concept we have no clue what Frozen 3 is about and tbh I have to give it to the team for not spilling a single detail about the movie. I know we want to know more but imo I think they're saving all that content for the end of 2026 and into 2027. Maybe a few teases or better insight of the story by the end of 2025, but who knows. Probably also because they're still working on it so whatever they would have told us about the film so far, could have changed and form opinions in our heads about it which they really don't need at this current stage of production. I don't think the cast have even got the script yet as the story is still developing!

Bush also mentions that Frozen 3 is going to deliver on everything that people love about Frozen. Now that's the only real piece of information given - the focal point being on what we want to see. That's what the questions on the first D23 event were about - what we would like to see, what we feel is left to tell. We love the characters, the story, the individual arcs of those characters, the dynamics, the settings, the potential, the mystery, and so much more and so I'll take this a positive sign. That's all of what I make of it.

I know nothing major was revealed in this interview, but I still thought I'd share for those who do take into consideration these little hints and teases. Since Frozen 3's date has been pushed back from 2026 to 2027, most of the content will be given the year of the release and some the year before base done the previous two films promotion (it could be different as this movie is a two parter). I know that's quite long to think about (😭) especially with the honest disappointment that Frozen Winter Festival was not a short film or an official short series but rather just a YouTube series (which is cute nonetheless and good to see they're feeding the younger fans of the franchise), but now moving into 2025 we have 2 and bit years left so we should get more teases in interviews and events here and there.

But regarding FWF, I don't blame them too much because all their focus is on the Frozen 3 and 4 as it is being made back to back, then I'm certain it'll be worth the wait. We can still hope for some kind of Frozen content soon as we do have a couple more years to go so let's see. 🤷🏽‍♀️

P.s I have some Frozen edits I'd love to share so I'll post those if you need something new regarding Frozen. ❄️

[bengiyo]

Peaceful Property: How I Yearn For a Good Procedural

I was originally excited about Peaceful Property because I genuinely like following BL actors into their other work to show that we are a loyal viewer base. Following Nishijima to Drive My Car (2021) was one of the best decisions I made that year. I’ve been thinking about the experience of watching Peaceful Property and why I felt so frustrated by the show. I wanted to write out my thoughts on procedurals, BL bait, and fandom so that I can move on from this show. 

The Loss Case-of-the-Week in Favor of Unearned Home Sympathy

My biggest struggle with this show was losing its case-of-the-week format around the midpoint. I was really intrigued in the early stories by how Home’s family’s business practices led to the terminal situations affecting some of the ghost stories. Like @lurkingshan I had hoped to see the show develop a common theme with its focus on stories about poverty. I also saw some potential in the read from @/maybe-boys-do-love after the episode focusing on Ride. No one was alone in this early read (@valentinaonthemoon). 

Through the end of episode 6, I had a ton of excitement about the show handling its themes around justice and forgiveness. We knew that Home was the one responsible for Peach's current predicament, and that Home’s grandfather and uncle were in on the cover up. Home knew what he had done to Peach, and fretted over it throughout episode 6. After five weeks of them focusing on completing a final act and providing closure for ghosts, I had hoped they’d give Home the chance to sit with the horror of the consequences of his own action and cowardice. I wanted the show to reckon with how Home, completely sober, left a stranger for dead, and only now cares about it because Peach is helping him feel less lonely.

Unfortunately, much of this frayed after the reveal that Home ran over Peach and the push to make Peach forgive him in the episode with the ghosts at the site of that camp. I didn’t share @respectthepetty’s read on the situation, but I did respect it and see how she got there. However, like @my-rose-tinted-glasses, it felt like the show started to rely on the inherent goodwill of shippers to overcome a major relationship break rather than deal with the underlying issues. 

I don’t think there’s anything inherently wrong with having the show turn to focus on how Home deals with Peach and Pangpang after the reveal that he left Peach for dead on the street, but I really struggled with the show not letting Home process the horror of what he did. This carries forward as we deal with the way Home’s family stole land from locals, and did not accommodate them through construction: something that had direct impacts on Kan and her father. By the time the show is forced to reckon with this, it handwaves it through Home with “You guys win! No problem!” (@twig-tea) It then goes on to give Home ghost sensing powers so he can rely Kan’s father’s final words which are just ‘get some friends?’ Now, I do think you need strong connections to survive activist work, but it felt really shitty to have the rich kid whose family caused all of this be the one to deliver this message. As with everything after Home’s biggest mistake is revealed, the show values the feeling of sympathy and forgiveness over the real work required for genuine reconciliation. 

Finally, the show jumps to the internal struggles of Home’s family in the final third of the show to focus on the destructiveness of their greed and its internal effects as well, but this feels like yet another unearned copout. The show works hard on the back half to pretend like the grandpa was just a silly old man, but there’s no way he doesn’t know what his people did to those communities, and he also knew exactly why Home was sent to America. The entire bit about the “family curse” in the last few episodes completely soured the show for me. It feels like the show even knows that, because it calls itself cringe through Pangpang when Home says he’ll “listen to those we’ve ignored.” Way to undercut the premise after giving Home the ability to hear ghosts. 

In the end, I found myself frustrated by the show turning to Newwie’s inherent charm to get us to want sympathy for Home rather than writing a genuine crisis in Home, and forcing him to grow. It feels poignant to me that the show thought it was funny to have Peach be mistaken for the help in Home’s house, and then later have Home and Peach independently decide to stay in Bangkok without talking to each other about it. Not talking about anything important was the big theme of their relationship after the hit-and-run reveal. The show did not reward any of us paying attention to its early themes on class (@lurkingshan).I never got the closure I needed here, and it’s the big sticking point of the show with me. 

BL Bait Kinda Sucks

As many of you already know, I don’t currently like what GMMTV is doing with branded pairs, and I think their shows are giving a warped view on found family narratives. I enjoyed following Off and Gun into The Trainee because they were playing a gay romance inside of a show that allowed for stories about a wider ensemble. I am really struggling with the conversation around the ways we apply queer readings to Peaceful Property because almost all of it relies on familiarity with Tay and New exclusively, and not anything the show did on screen. 

With this show, I’m struggling with the found family aspect and the moving goal posts. I don’t think Home agreeing to reinstate an onerous contract on Peach and Pangpang is a kind move from him. I also don’t know that the team basking in the glow of Home’s goodwill as the final shot is a great look either, and feels kinda paternalistic. We had a whole movie about people stuck sucking from the teat of a rich guy and how shitty that goes two years ago.

GMMTV creates its branded pairs so they can literally be used as a brand. They have these people working almost every day to sell something on socials, or at a fashion event, or appearing at an event. I wasn’t bothered by Tay and New working together outside of BL after the fantastic work they did in Cherry Magic earlier this year. I don’t mind them using their most popular actors to attract a viewer base that will follow them almost anywhere to ship them. 

I also actually like stories about the bonds between men. Currently, GMMTV is adapting School 2013 (2012) with High School Frenemy (2024). The broken relationship between two of the male characters there is incredibly well done in School 2013, and I do not think that show would be improved by making that an actual romance. I think they’re both fertile ground for shipping, but the show’s primary focus on the state of life in a failing school for the students and faculty is better served by the intensity of feelings over the broken bonds between men. People are still shipping Goblin and Reaper from Goblin (2016), but again, that story is actually better without an actual sexual or romantic connection between Kim Shin and Reaper. With Peaceful Property, I don’t think they finished the work of building and resolving this friendship between Home and Peach, and it leaves me wanting.

I share a lot of @italianpersonwithashippersheart’s general concerns around the commerce around BL with GMMTV. That being said, I don’t begrudge @respectthepetty and others having fun calling the show gay. What I’m struggling with is the difference between the shipping being satisfying versus the show being satisfying. I lost my emotional connection to this show when it failed to resolve the break in the middle. The back half of the watch is hollow for me, and I just can't let my willingness to ship Tay and New make up for that failure. 

I Need a Good Procedural

What I realized the most from watching this is that I need another good procedural in my life. The first half of Peaceful Property gave me some of that, but the back half did not. I enjoyed the performances everyone gave on this show, despite my lingering qualms with what the show chose to prioritize. I’m happy that everyone seems like they had a lot of fun working on this show, and I’m glad that the viewers clearly responded to that. This was actually a genuinely pretty show to look at, and I’m glad that GMMTV continues to embrace color in their shows this year (with a few glaring exceptions). 

With that, I will put this show to rest. This show ended up not being what I thought it was giving, and I’ll be moving on. I’ll see you all much later on future GMMTV works. 

[twig-tea]

I'm still processing the end of Love in the Big City the series, but I wanted to jot down a few details and unfinished thoughts that are sticking with me after episodes 7 and 8 [series-only thoughts].

Putting together the timeline made me realize how many important moments in Yeong's life share or are near to the same anniversary; We know he contracts HIV in February (2014), and that Gyu-Ho leaves in February (2022), and that Yeong quits his job in February (2023).

In ep5, we see Yeong's phone where he has three missed calls from Gyu-Ho, and we can see that he's saved Gyu-Ho's name as Q~❤ [hearto], and that probably contributed to why he had hope that the mysterious Q was Gyu-Ho.

We see Yeong finish the soy sauce, and he said it was expired back when they were living together, so that means it's another year out of date. There's something in this metaphor about hanging on past when things are good and finally being able to let go.

When Gyu-Ho first looks at the elephants in the cheap Bangkok motel they were a pair on that nightstand, and he only took one of them.

The metaphor of the ceiling fan hanging over them like a threat the one time they have sex without a condom, how the trust that the fan will not fall feels similar to the trust that the PrEP pills will do their job. Thinking about the way Yeong says Kylie is his and how he wants to be sure she'll remain only his.

And how that ceiling fan ties connects with Habibi and his photos of ceiling fans, how the ceiling is the last thing he saw before he went blind for two weeks and so he takes photos of them in every hotel, how he uses it as his profile picture on hookup apps, how he is hiding from his family and the life he doesn't want by spending time with people on the verge of breaking, but holding on.

The way Gyu-Ho haunts the narrative in episodes 7 and 8 the way Kylie haunted the narrative in 5 and 6.

The perspective we got on the scenes from Yeong and Gyu-Ho's trip to Bangkok in 7&8 contrasted with the version we got in 5&6 was so well done; both versions fit together really well but cannot be fully reconciled because our memories are never perfect, and a person is not a character in a novel.

I also found myself pondering how they shot the scenes that reprise across Parts; did they have both directors on site for these moments and shoot them in the same day? The technical aspect of these is so interesting to me because of the different directors and how different these shots looked (not just in the nuances of how they were acted, but how they were coloured, framed, everything).

There's something in my head about how writing was what drove a wedge between them when they were together, what Yeong tried to use to keep them together forever on the lantern (and instead what tore up the lantern), and what he used to remember Gyu-Ho when they were apart.

Something also about how Eun Su was so much better off not being married, I was so relieved when we found out the wedding had been called off, and how the pressure to hide how he was feeling about what was happening in his life was what made him feel closer to Yeong.

I was just so relieved when the T-aras fell through that door after Yeong tried celebrating quitting his job by himself and instead fell into a depression for six days. I have had friends do a similar wellness check for me and I will never forget how loved it made me feel when I thought I was unlovable. I'm just so glad Yeong had the T-aras in his life; and their presence in this section was complicated but deeply moving. I'm still working through everything I think about how they functioned in the series, but I am so, so grateful for them, and to this series as a whole.

I absolutely loved it.

[stormsthatrage]

Have three (and a half?) ideas/sketches for the very beginning of the Two Idiots and a Temporal Incident Bleach AU. I made Ichigo a girl in this post because I have a deep-seated desire for more female Bleach characters that a) aren't constantly being rescued and b) aren't hyper-sexualized.

Snippet 1:

Two months after she killed Aizen, Ichigo came to the abrupt realization that she was ready to murder again. 

“Grimmjow,” she said, “if you don’t eat that somewhere else, I am going to kill you.”

Grimm lifted his head to look up at her. The rotted arm hanging from his mouth twitched as he ground down, evidently severing some sort of muscle between his teeth. This was unfortunately the last straw for the limb’s integrity; a large chunk of slimy skin sloughed off, landing on the bare dirt with a horrifically wet plop.

Ichigo told herself she was not going to vomit. 

The back of her throat tightened and her mouth filled with saliva.

She was not going to vomit.

Grimm locked eyes with her. Reached out a clawed hand to pick up the goopy chunk. Brought it towards his lips.

Ichigo contorted herself, leaning out over the side of the boulder she was sitting on, and heaved. Breakfast came up — a protein bar — and so did lunch — another protein bar.

Over the sound of her own gags, she heard him say, “And you think I’m disgusting?”

She gagged one last time, gave herself a second to be sure it really was the last time, and then reached out blindly for her sword hilt. Her fingers scrabbled over cold stone and found Zangetsu’s pommel, and then she was leaping down from the rock, fueled by the blood-thirst of someone a little too far past done with another person’s shit.

Grimm laughed as she crashed down on him, his breath powerful enough that she smelled the sound as equally as she heard it — but he had dropped the arm, and now she got to try and beat his face in, so it was a victory even if it was a Pyrrhic one.

Pantera caught Zangetsu’s edge (a brief connection, a split second of perfect understanding: grief pushed down and buried deep; a growing restlessness, born from the pointless question of now what; desperation to pretend the world remained as it was, before the war, before it was all broken, before they two were the last-) and Grimm shoved upward. Ichigo moved with the force of the block, springing backward and landing in a crouch. He grinned at her, more of a baring-of-teeth than a smile, and lunged forward.

And off they went, the two of them, playing pretend in a forest that was shrinking every day, the unraveling of reality itself closing in.

Snippet 2:

The sky was a perpetual, vibrant blue. 

Ichigo hadn’t stopped to ponder the color of the End of Everything before, well, everything ended. But she thinks if she had, she would have expected it to be black.

Black, like nothing. Black, the color of absence. 

But it turns out that the threshold of the apocalypse — where spacetime was being ripped apart, atoms and quarks torn open and destroyed — glowed.

Hat-and-Clogs had explained it before Aizen had killed him. In a twist of cosmic irony, blue was the color of sunny days and also nuclear fission. And so above them burned a spherical shell of brilliant blue, eating its way closer through the fabric of reality.

And beyond the shell, past the threshold? No color at all there, not even black, just a complete nothing.

There was a pun there, about moths and Aizen’s monstrous transformation and the destruction of fabric and possibly an emperor left wearing no clothes. If Renji had been there, he would have made it. Ichigo wasn’t drunk enough to do it for him. 

Spirits, she missed him. She missed them all, with their stupid jokes and annoying — 

“Can you shut up?” Grimm said. “I would, actually, like to fall asleep sometime this year.”

Ichigo stopped staring at the sky to roll over onto her side, squinting through decaying grass to peer at him. “I haven’t said anything?”

“But you were thinking. I know because I could hear you straining.”

Ichigo considered that, and then rolled over twice more, until she was close enough to Grimm to kick him.

Parallel to her in the grass, he tensed, bracing for a strike.

The joke was on him, though, that wasn’t her move. She let out a horrid, caterwauling wail, doing her best approximation of a drunkard trying to perform an aria. In her opinion, she managed the imitation quite well; the sound was positively, excruciatingly awful. 

Grimm launched himself across the remaining ground between them, landing on top of her and desperately trying to muffle the noise leaving her mouth. “Shut up, shut up, shut up - ”

She laid off screeching in favor of employing a technique all siblings learn early in life: licking the hand trying to silence you.

Grimm recoiled, skittering away and frantically wiping his hand on the ground. “I hate you!” he cried.

Ichigo cackled, and he turned his head to stare at her, shoulders hunched and eyes wide, posture all offended-cat. But there was something else in his eyes, too — something a little self-satisfied, maybe.

She huffed. “Go to sleep, moron,” she said, and closed her eyes. 

Snippet 3:

They stood over Aizen’s corpse. Just the sight of it was enough to make Ichigo’s hands shake with a mixture of fear and anger.

Soul King.

They had avoided this place by unspoken agreement, before now. Had wandered through what little forest remained, staying as far away from here as they could without getting too close to the boundary.

After all, why return? All it was was a reminder of how they had failed. How they hadn’t defeated him. Hadn’t killed him until he had already won in every way that mattered.

So, naturally, their return was prompted by nothing less than what Ichigo suspected was the stupidest plan to ever be created, synthesized from pure frustration, a deep lack of comprehension of kido theory, and the complete assurance that whatever they did, they couldn’t make things worse.

“The bastard didn’t even have the decency to rot,” Grimm said.

It was true. Aizen’s body lay there, perfectly preserved by the hogyoku, as the universe decayed around him instead.

“Looking at it makes me want to kill him again, you know?” Grimm added, kicking the side of the corpse. It was not a gentle kick. Something audibly crunched under his toe. “I feel like once just wasn’t enough.”

Ichigo breathed out. Breathed in. “Well,” she said, and her voice was as still and steady as Hat-and-Clogs could teach her, “if this works, we’ll get a second chance. Better make it satisfying, though, because I sure as hell don’t want to do this a third time.”

Grimm’s fangs glinted blue in the light of The End. “Oh, I have no doubt I will enjoy the opportunity immensely.” 

He crouched down and put one hand over the spot Aizen’s heart should have been. “You sure you’re up for this?” he asked. “Your gargantas have always been shit, you know, and your kido is worse.”

“Oh, fuck you,” she said. “Just do it already.”

And so Grimm unsheathed his claws and plunged his hand into Aizen’s chest. With a series of crunching snaps, a wet sucking sound, and a tide of the stench of iron, he ripped the hogyoku out of Aizen’s chest.

He cradled the tiny ball of divinity between both palms. Ichigo’s hands wrapped tightly around his. The two of them dripped gore and power from their fingers.

Focusing together, with neither array nor incantation, they imagined a clock, spinning backwards, and wished.

The hogyoku glowed, awakening from its sleep.

Blue light turned blinding white.

And everything came undone.

Snippet 3.5ish:

In a shocking turn of fate, the two’s methodology was successful.

But there was one factor — one small but vital factor — that they both forgot.

The type of time travel they embarked on required so much energy because, at its heart, it required undoing. In order to write a different book on pages that have already been printed, the pages must first be erased.

Under normal circumstances, the energy required to do this to a whole universe would be so immense as to be prohibitive. 

With a hogyoku, doing so became possible, but very, very difficult.

Doing so with a hogyoku, with the entirety of the universe already undone, save for few cubic miles?  

Well. The energy for that, dear reader, is peanuts.

And so the two time travelers, who had poured all the energy they could into the hogyoku in the desperate hope of landing far enough back to make a difference, found themselves flung back not two months, not two years, not even two decades, but about two centuries.

… There was, perhaps, a reason, that when everyone was still alive, those two were never put in charge of strategy.