#but honestly it makes sense for the story

[foenixed]

Hey, my two interests (comic books and transgenderism) are aligned! I'd like to take this opportunity to inform people a little about why her creation of Black Lightning was so important and made her, despite the honestly relatively small number of comics she's written, so influential.

So, the year is 1977 and there aren't many black superheroes at the Big Two (Marvel and DC). Black Panther was the first, introduced in 1966, then Falcon (1969), Black Racer (1971), John Stewart/Green Lantern (1972), Luke Cage (1972) (who also took the title for first Black character to have their own series), Storm (1975) and Bumblebee (1976). Prexisting civilian character Bill Foster was made into Black Goliath (1975) and Mal Duncan into the Guardian (1976). Notably, the writer who turned Bill Foster into a superhero is also the star of this story, Jenny Blake Isabella.

For those keeping track, that's 5 characters at Marvel and 4 at DC. But DC had another problem, and that is that their few black characters are less notable than Marvel's. Black Racer had only really appeared as a side character in a miniseries, Bumblebee and Guardian were part of the failing Teen Titans series and didn't even make 10 appearances before its cancellation, and John Stewart had only appeared in 4 stories, AND he was stuck playing second fiddle because the main Green Lantern was Hal Jordan. They needed a black superhero. They needed a headliner.

Enter Black... Bomber? As has since been revealed, Black Lightning wasn't originally going to be Black Lightning. No. DC had a much worse idea in mind, which Isabella referred to as "Easily one of the most offensive concepts I had ever seen."

As she explained in the foreword to the 2015 Black Lightning TPB:

“During my exclusive arrangement with Marvel, I kept thinking about creating a new African-American hero. I wanted a character to whom our young readers could relate, a character who would inspire them as Superman and Captain America had inspired me. Unexpectedly, a DC editorial misstep gave me that opportunity. DC purchased two scripts for a planned new series called The Black Bomber. The hero, who would be their first "black" character to star in his own title, was a white racist Vietnam vet, who, as a result of taking part in chemical experiments to allow soldiers to blend in better with the jungle, turned into a black supehero in moments of stress. It gets worse. In each of the two well-intentioned scripts, the hero would, in his white racist persona, save a person he couldn't see clearly and, on finding out the person was black, exclaim something along the lines of- and this is a quote- "You mean I risked my life to save a jungle bunny?" And it gets worse. His superhero suit, such as it was, looked for all the world like a basketball uniform. Sweet Christmas!”

“DC wanted me to rewrite those two scripts and go solo on The Black Bomber with the third issue. I begged them to reconsider. It took some time, but I convinced them to consign the Bomber to limbo with the ultimate question: "Do you want your first black superhero to be a white bigot?" Common sense prevailed.”

And prevail it did. In only three weeks, Isabella invented a completely new character to replace the Black Bomber: the man called Jefferson Pierce, aka Black Lightning.

“I returned to my Cleveland roots for three weeks and came back to the DC offices with Jefferson Pierce. He was a teacher because, in a moment of clarity, I realized the one thing the vast majority of our readers had in common was that they all had gone/were going to school. He was based in an urban setting because I had become more political since starting my career and those were the stories I wanted to tell…and still do. He was an Olympic athlete because logic told me he had to have some sort of edge that was not the result of science or mutation.”

“The only thing I didn't have for my new character was a superhero name. Jeff and I found that name in the office of legendary editor Julius Schwartz. On Julie's wall, I spotted a Wonder Woman cover in which she was attempting to lasso a "black lightning bolt" while shouting, "Hera help me stop this Black Lightning before it splits this building in two!" Black Lightning. It sounded very cool to me, and Jeff liked it too. Neither one of us remembered it had also been the name of Western hero Johnny Thunder's horse.”

Not bad for a three week turnaround.

[venomhoundfanworks]

Hazbin Hotel - First "I Love You"s

Happy Valentines Day, all~ I wanted to make a special post for today. So here are short stories about the first time you exchanged I love you with Lucifer, Vox, and Alastor

CASUAL REMINDER: What was supposed to be the Angel Dust part in this post got too long because I have no self control. Its now its own story >>over yonder<<

Contents/WARNINGS: Gender neutral reader; allusions to heartbreak, cheating, abuse, just lots of past bad stuff; but its all in the past, this content is fluff and feels; Lucifer has a panic attack in his part cause he needs therapy Cavity content and brainrot below the cut ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Lucifer ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡

Lucifer knew the words. Of course he did. After all, he was a married man. Obviously. But… They seemed to carry so much more weight now then they ever did before. Ever since Lilith left. Now they felt much more like a burden then something to celebrate. Perhaps he was idealistic, if not naïve before. But just the thought of love had made him giddy. It always held the promise of endless laughter, dancing under stars, and countless ever afters.

But now? Now, thinking of love scared him. It made his heart clench and the cold weight of dread harden in his chest. Lucifer’s mind would always go to that horrible moment when he realized Lilith was gone. That she wasn't coming back. Now, love just seemed like a promise of pain. A promise to leave in the end.

However, if there is one thing Lucifer can reliably do, its ignore a problem. Its his special talent to be able to simply not register any smoke or embers until its an all-engulfing, burning blaze.

With how close the two of you were getting, Lucifer should have seen the signs. He should have noticed the warmth that stained his face, the excitement that burned in his stomach to the point of making him sick, as well as the pure sense of comfort and affection that welled up in his chest. He should have done alot of things. But instead, every thought, every notion Lucifer got that there is more, that there is something beautiful blossoming between you two is thrown to the wayside. Buried deep, to be dealt with later.

Until it can’t be dealt with later. Until it bursts out in a way only Lucifer can manage to do; on complete accident.

Neither of you remember how the conversation started, or honestly, the majority of what was said. You were folding what felt like endless paper crafts for Charlie. All while Lucifer rambled to you about his latest duck related project. He fiddled and spun one of said ducks in his hands, using it as a fidget toy while he spoke. Lucifer did… attempt to help you when he found you. But you correctly assessed that he would be much more of a detriment then an asset with his mind so focused elsewhere. So here you two were; him passionately talking your ear off while you did the delicate work he couldn’t.

When it happened, it was sudden. Lucifer had just bounced up to leave when the words tumbled out of his mouth before he could catch them; “That sounds great! I love you, Duckie~”

Just like that, it was like a live bomb had been dropped between you two. Time itself seemed to stop and both of you remained completely still. Lucifer’s heart pounded; blood rushing so fast it was deafening. His hands trembled. He could already feel overwhelmed tears pricking at his eyes and fogging up his vision. He could feel his lungs burning for air while he fought to keep his breathing steady. He wanted to run. He wanted to hide in his room and cry. He wanted to turn to you and try and explain and beg you not to leave him…

But instead Lucifer just stood there. Frozen. Paralyzed in fear that he had just broken whatever you two had going. That he had ruined his only chance at a fresh start like he ruins everything else-

“Do you mean that?”

Your gentle words broke through Lucifer’s rapid spiral and put a harsh stop to any further thoughts in his head. He simply blinked dumbly a few times. A subconscious attempt to get rid of the excess wetness in his eyes. “W-w-what?”

“Do you…” Lucifer could hear the trembling in your soft voice. The hesitance in your breathe as you held it for a moment to try and gather yourself before finishing, “…really love me?”

At that, Lucifer finally found it in himself to turn around and look at you. In your eyes he saw the exact same fear that he had. Fear of the future. Fear of pain. Fear of the inevitable.

For the first time in forever, Lucifer felt understood. For the first time, Lucifer felt that something for him might turn out okay after all.

“Yes. I love you so much.”

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Vox ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡

Vox had certainly thought about the words. He had said them to you in his head countless times. But he had yet to work up the courage to actually say them to you outloud. Everytime Vox was sure it was going to happen, they would always end up catching in his throat. Then his thoughts would start racing, his fans suddenly whirring trying to keep him from overheating, and the words would end up dying before he could get his shit together.

What if he was moving too fast? The last thing he wanted to do was jump the gun. Especially when it came to you. What if he says it too soon, coming off desperate and scaring you off? Or worse, what if he got the timing wrong? What if those words, those ever important words, came out at the worst possible moment? Vox was well aware that his own lightness and euphoria could be blinding him to your mental state. What if he was reading the entire situation wrong?

What if… you just didn’t feel the same?

That was the notion that ended it. Ended any attempt or thoughts Vox possibly had of confessing. Vox was pretty sure he couldn't handle another heartbreak. Another rejection. So he kept the words to himself and settled for whatever it was you had now. Your current “relationship” was better then the possible alternative. So he would settle. Vox told himself he was okay with whatever scraps he got like he always did.

You had gracelessly fallen asleep on Vox one evening; the movie marathon he had coaxed you into losing the battle with your sleep deprived self. When Vox noticed your body relax against him as you fell asleep, he couldn't help but chuckle lovingly. It was cute and… sweet that you trusted him like this. Enough to fall asleep on him like something out of a stupid teen romance.

Vox hummed to himself and playfully rolled his eyes, shifting around so you could sleep more comfortably on his chest. He held you close, his claws gently petting you and his heart beating a little too loudly in his own head for his liking. Despite how much he complained, in whatever poor attempts he did to keep up his bravado, Vox would be lying if he said he didn’t love moments like this. Moments where you two were just something from a stupid romance.

Vox continued his humming, but now with more purpose. It was as if he was trying to sooth you. To lull you into a deeper sleep. He gently pressed his screen against the top of your head in a makeshift kiss. The words escaped his mouth before he could consciously register them; a gentle “I love you.” It just felt… right in that moment. For once, he wasn't panicking internally or overheating with dread at your possible response. Everything was calm. Quiet. Besides, it wasn't like you were even awake to hear him anyway…

“…I love you too.”

Vox immediately went silent and every muscle in his body tensed. He wasn't fully sure he heard you right at first. That is, if he didn't outright hallucinate it. Your words were groggy, partially slurred; clearly having responded to him in your sleep.

But did that fact really matter? You had said it to him. You said the words back. So you must have loved him on some level, right? Vox could feel himself trembling as his grip on you tightened protectively, as if you were at threat of being taken away from him in that very moment. As if you might just slip away through his fingers like a gust of wind. Vox pulls your sleeping form ever closer, curling around you, desperate to be as close as he can possibly be.

He swears from that moment on, that he is never going to let you go.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Alastor ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡

Alastor had… honestly never really thought about those words. Or even what best describes his own feelings for you for that matter. He simply acknowledged that, yes, he did feel some sort of… “affection” towards you. So “affection” was what he called it. It didn’t matter what it actually was. You seemed to return it. You let him express his feelings how he wished. Things between you two seemed to be going swell. So… was there really a need to name it?

Alastor certainly didn't think so. Perhaps it was just in his roots to not give something like that a name. A name acknowledges it. Gives it shape. Gives it power. A name makes something tangible. Turns the ethereal into something to be wielded. Either for, or against you. But that was the risk you accepted when you played with fire. That its flame could scorch you and leave you just as charred as those you hoped to use it against.

It was early. Dreadfully early. But Alastor was wide awake and in the Hotel kitchen preparing the residential breakfast. Already singing and humming to himself like it wasn't too early for even the birds. Your footsteps were weighted with sleep as you meandered your way towards the kitchen. Alastor’s only acknowledgment of you was the flick of his ears when you stomped particularly loud.

You lethargically pulled out one of the dining chairs, unintentionally dragging one of its legs against the floor and making a horrid squeal. Most people would have been terrified at the sight of the radio demon visibly recoiling at the sound; his ears flattening back as he shot you a look over his shoulder. But you were not most people.

Instead, you settled yourself. Your head leaning sleepily against your arms on the table while the radio demon simply stared, motionless at you.

“Dear.” Alastor only spoke when you started staring back. Unabashedly meeting his unwavering eyes with your own. His voice crackled with static. “You-are aware of how early it is, aren't you?”

You gave an affirming hum. “Are you?”

Alastor visibly retracted himself, slowly turning back to his work despite his ears remaining pinned back. He… didn’t actually have a response for that. You both knew he had no business being here at this hour. Especially since his only reason for being the Hotel’s chef at all was some misplaced sense of culinary pride.

So Alastor resigned himself and silently continued. Slowly relaxing once again into his normal rhythm as you watched from the table. Your eyes tracing his every movement like he was a show in and of himself. Looking at him like he was a work of art.

“Al?”

Alastor simply made an acknowledging sound at your inquiry. Letting you know that he had heard you, but most of his attention was still on preparing the Hotel’s breakfast.

“I love you.”

It wasn't a groundbreaking declaration. Something yelled in a moment of despair and desperation as if the earth itself was being ripped out from under you. The ground certainly wasn't breaking apart at your words now. No. This was just a simple acknowledgment. A voicing of fact.

Perhaps that reverence was what gave Alastor pause. Made him actually consider the notion.

Love. Was that what this was? Was that this tightness, this need he had deep in his chest? Was that the name of this longing, this warmth he felt whenever you were too wonderfully close or pulled away too far? Was this… fondness, this comfort he had in moments like these… what love was?

“Alastor?”

He didnt notice he had slowly stopped what he was doing. So lost in thought that he had ceased all motion. Alastor looked back at you and affectionately chuckled when he saw the concerned look in your eyes. He found himself with a genuine smile for once. Not the usual grin that he plastered on, the one that could easily find itself more on the side of a snarl then a grin. But a real smile that reached his eyes.

“I’m fine, Love. Just thinking is all.”

If this was what love was, then he could certainly learn to live with it.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

AN: Happy Valentines day everyone! I hope ya'll find real love and happiness while I'm over here gargling my fictional men (˵˘ ³˘˵) (Also tag which type of love/way of saying 'I love you' you are; I'm Luci ◉〰◉)

LINKS AND FURTHER READING ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡

My Masterlist for my Other Work: >>HERE<<

The Angel Dust Section: >>HERE<<

AO3 Archive Link: >>HERE<<

Ngl, Vox's section was inspired by the strange like... silent agreement that alot of people have that Vox definitely tells you he loves you while your sleeping. Ive noticed a bunch of people have him do that in their fics and its just funny to me that so many people have come to the same conclusion.

One such fic is this adorable little drabble over >>HERE<< by @voxisdaddy

There is a super cute post about trying (and failing) to cook for Alastor and Lucifer and them having to step in to help you by @alastor-x-reader-stories over >>HERE<<

ALSO HAVE THIS STUUUPIDDD-- fic that I actually almost had a panic attack over because I couldn't find it and I thought it got deleted-ANYWAY. Its by @girlboypersonthingy and its a wonderful fic about Lucifer desperately pining over the reader and I reread it ALOT its over >>HERE<<

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Charm Me | Jeon Jungkook | Two Shot | Part One

Summary: Your best friend's boyfriend's best friend is not someone you had planned on falling for, and honestly you hardly admit it to yourself most days but maybe, just maybe there's something you can do to test those waters... Pairing: f!reader x Jungkook (semi friends to lovers lol) Word Count: 7k~ Warnings: Some curses here and there but nothing major. a/n: Kay so this was supposed to be a one shot but I didn't finish it in time and I wanted to get something out for Valentine's Day so I hope you guys enjoy it 🥰 p.s. barely edited per usual so please excuse any mistakes. I legit decided last minute to make this a two shot lol.

"Come on y/n let's go!" Sadie pleads practically dragging me through the parking lot. "Someone's excited" I laugh, dragging my feet a little to make her task even harder, eventually yanking me through a heart littered archway. 

"You finally agreed to come with me to the Valentine's Festival after I had been begging you for years! How could I not be excited?" she says as though her degree of excitement is warranted but with her, excitement is always easy to conjure.

"I've never had a reason to come since I've been single for years" I roll my eyes, the whole thing seemingly pointless if you ask me. "Yet here you are, still single and gracing me with your presence" she says accompanied by a dramatic curtsy, very fitting this time since she happens to be wearing a dress. 

Her cute coquette style mismatched with my dark and moody nature is a laughable dichotomy. 

Her pink ballet flats walk next to my all black combat boots, the ribbons swaying in her hair stand in stark contrast to the way the light catches on my silver chains, leaving us quite the odd pairing.

"You know, if you keep on hanging on my arm like that people are gonna think we're lesbians" I sigh, not making an effort to pull away. "Is that your way of asking me to be your Valentine" she teases and I roll my eyes. 

"Pretty sure Jayson would have a problem with that" I say, pealing her off of me leaving her pouting before grabbing my hand instead and pulling me over to the first of many stalls that line this festival. 

"Just because Jayson is my boyfriend doesn't mean he has to be my Valentine...plus he hasn't asked me yet" she sighs dramatically for the fifth time today, a common theme for the past couple of days whenever this topic is brought up. 

"You know you could always, I don't know... ask him" I say and her brows furrow leaving me poking the wrinkle on her forehead to make her stop. 

"What a ridiculous thing to say" she scoffs and walks off to the next stand leaving me shaking my head and following after her. 

Sadie is someone I've been friends with for as long as I can remember. Long enough to have known each other before we made the dramatic split in our senses of style. I'd love to burn the pictures of me in Abercrombie skinny jeans and brightly colored Hollister polos but alas they will forever haunt my memories. 

At least I had Sadie though. I wouldn't leave her in the past no matter how many embarrassing stories she's in possession of.

"No way!" she squeals and pulls me over to another stall that's caught her eye. "If you keep on yanking on my arm like that you'll eventually pull it off" I say while rolling my shoulder, making it a point to prevent her from doing so again. 

"Sorry" she laughs awkwardly and tries to check on me but I assure her I'm fine, choosing to direct her attention to the table she decided to pull me towards this time.

"Love potions? Really? Jayson is already head over heels for you Sadie, I doubt you'll need help keeping him around" I roll my eyes and try to move onto to the next stall but she pulls me back, gently this time thankfully, clearly enthralled with the concept.

"Not for me silly, for you!" she justifies and takes a closer look, making the mysterious and lowkey sketchy woman behind the table hopeful that she'll get another sucker to fall for her tricks. 

"Why would I need a love potion? Last time I checked there's not a man in my life that I'd want to fall in love with me" I say and she cocks a brow at me. "Bullshit" she says, using language that I've hardly every heard from her. 

"Someone's feisty today" I chuckle making her expression sour. "What? There's literally no guy I could think of that I'd want to use that on" I reiterate but we both know I'm lying. 

But I'm not gonna give that information up though even if she tries to beat it out of me.

"Whatever you say" she huffs and moves onto the next stall.

The rest of our time here is spent doing the same thing over and over again with Sadie trying to find something for Jayson and me just following along getting hungrier by the second as we inch closer and closer to the food stalls that are annoyingly full of food items that look like hearts and roses but I couldn't care less when they smell that good. 

"Alright come on dude I'm starving" I say when she's finished paying, still engaged in a conversation with the shop keeper that has been convincing her to buy too many useless things but it's no skin off my nose if she wants to use her daddy's money to buy that nonsense. 

"Hey! I was still talking to her" she whines but follows since after my not so subtle mention of needing sustenance she's starting to realize she's just as starving if not more than me when she see's that they're selling heart shaped waffles. 

"Okay but afterwards I want to check out a few more stalls!" she compromises and switches to pulling me along again to get in the ever growing line of hungry customers.

~~~~

After we've each successfully gained a food baby each Sadie pops around and looks at a few more stalls with me very much ready for a nap. 

But let's be honest, I'm always ready for a nap.

"Hey why don't you pull the car around and I'll check out the last few stalls on my own" she suggests but I know she's up to something. 

"Why?" I question watching her eyes shift over to a certain stall in particular. "That way it'll safe us a little bit of time and we can get out of here sooner" she explains but I sigh and agree, knowing the faster we get out of here, the better from my perspective at least. 

"I'll call you when I get closer to the entrance" I say and she smiles and waves me off while I make the trek back to her car on my own, having brought her car so I would have no means of escape.

When I finally pull up she hops in with at least two or three more bags than she had when I left. "What did you buy?" I ask but all I'm granted is a little giggle accompanied by a no where near suspicious 'Nothing' leaving me rolling my eyes for the last time tonight, knowing that her childlike excitement when it comes to these things truly is endearing to me, but she'll never know that. 

~~~~

Once Sadie unlocks the door to her apartment we both head over to the table to set down her countless purchases. 

"Did you really need another perfume?" I ask, holding up the pink ish stained glass bottle to the light leaving her taking it out of my hands and putting it back on the table. "It's not perfume it's room mist. It's supposed to make the space feel more romantic" she says, giving a shortened version of the sales pitch she no doubt got. 

"Right...romantic" I chuckle knowing that it'll probably just be a cheaply made lightly scented mist that's supposed to be all natural with health benefits too but I won't burst her bubble on this one since I know there's enough romance to spare when it comes to her and Jayson. 

I swear I can barely stand being alone with them but luckily that's gotten a little better lately. 

"I should probably get going soon" I say looking at the clock after I've helped her put everything away for safe keeping, code word for away from Jayson's prying eyes. "Wait why?" she pouts, "I thought you were gonna stay for movie night" she says as if I just told her that she can't wear pink on Wednesdays. 

"I don't wanna watch a movie with you and your boyfriend" I cringe at the idea of being left in a room with those two. "Yeah but he's bringing J-" she starts to argue but is cut off by a rhythmic knock on her front door making her expression go from sulking to smug.

"Can you get the door?" she asks and goes back to the kitchen to get the movies snacks ready. "I'm not your butler S" I call back out but my only response is her happily humming and completely ignoring me. 

I walk over to the door and open it with Jayson's hand raised up about to knock again which he luckily doesn't because he wouldn't knocked on my forehead instead. 

"Impatient are we?" I ask and lean against the doorway, making his efforts of seeing Sadie last a little while longer. "Hi y/n, is Sadie around?" he chuckles, glad he didn't accidentally make an enemy of me tonight. "I mean this is her apartment" I say and he scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. 

"Yeah I guess you're right" he says making me smirk, knowing I'm playing to scary best friend role perfectly. Looks like he took the threat of me castrating him if he ever hurt Sadie pretty seriously still. "In the kitchen" I say and widen the door, letting him slip past me but when I go to close it I'm met with another person trying to come in right behind him.

"Hey y/n" his deep voice says, no doubt trying to play it cool since he's probably heard that story before as well. "Didn't know you were coming" I say, my tone neutral as I widen the door for him. 

"Yeah Jayson said something about a movie night? I heard you were gonna be here so I thought I'd tag along...if that's alright with you of course" Jungkook say, backtracking and clearly embarrassed for admitting that he wanted to see me.

"I mean it's a free country" I shrug my shoulders and close the door, with him waiting for me to lead the way even though he's been here quite a few times already since Sadie and Jayson got together. "Right" he chuckles, not adding much more than that, letting the conversation die.

"Hi baby" Jayson says making Sadie giggle and I avert my eyes before I have to witness another kiss of theirs leaving me bumping into Jungkook's chest, not having expected him to be that close. With him as a result wrapping his arm around me to make sure I don't stumble from the impact. 

"Sorry I-" he says but I just unwrap his arm around my waist. "It's fine. I was just a little too dramatic in trying to save myself from witnessing their love" I roll my eyes leaving Sadie pouting but I can tell she's clearly satisfied with seeing Jungkook and I so close. 

"Makes sense" he said and rubs the back of his neck and watches as I make my way over to the couch with him soon following my lead. 

He's been like this almost since the beginning once he realized that my moody exterior wasn't aimed at him just because he was a stranger but was just a part of my character. Although I'm pretty sure I still make him nervous, he doesn't seem to mind it anymore.

Just like clockwork he sits on one side of the couch while I sit on the other, never crossing spacial boundaries unless necessary or out of convenience like that one time I got roped into sitting in the middle in the backseat next to him on our trip to the beach since we needed more space for the stuff we brought with us. 

Curse you Sadie and your tiny car. 

I don't even know why we ended up taking her car since it's the smallest out of the four of ours but alas. The result of which was Jungkook's arm draped across the back seat to offer me some more space with me eventually falling asleep on him. Resulting in me lowkey avoiding him after the fact until I realized how ridiculous I was being.

Sadie had also been guilt tripping me at that time about how sad he had been and how lonely he looked hanging out with just her and Jayson and so I finally gave in, knowing I couldn't do this forever. Plus it wasn't like it was his fault or anything. Swimming always makes me sleepy and I should've warned him about that. 

He didn't make it a big deal about it when I came back thankfully since I already had to deal with enough teasing from my often merciless best friend so we were luckily able to act as though it never happened. Although ever since then it's happened quite a few times...

"Hey Jungkook do you think you could let me use the arm rest tonight?" Jayson calls out sounding not in the slightest bit suspicious but all of us know what he's doing and Sadie clearly has clearly put him up to it.

"Oh um" Jungkook starts but when he not so subtly glances over in my direction I decide to just put the boy out of his misery. "You can use mine. Sadie and I can sit in the middle" I say resulting in me having to sit next to Jungkook for the next two or so hours.

When I glance at him I can see how the new seating arrangement has made him nervous and so I decide to torture the boy a little. "As long as that's okay with you Jungkook?" I ask, tilting my head at him which has him nervously glancing back over at me before clearing his throat and practically squirming him his seat before nodding 'yes'. 

"Perfect!" Sadie says and with the help of Jayson brings over all the snacks and presses play on the pre approved movie from our group chat debate.  

~~~~

As the movie drags on I watch my vision go in and out of focus, leaving me shaking my head in an effort to try and wake myself up. "You okay?" Jungkook whispers and I hum. "Just a little sleepy" I respond assuring him I'm alright. He hums back and adjusts his posture, draping his arm around the couch, as a not so subtle invitation for me to lean on him.

The corner of my mouth turns up at that and I can tell that he noticed it, making him not as nervous about his offer anymore.

The dynamic between Jungkook and I has been...peculiar to say the least. 

I wouldn't consider him a close friend or even a friend really. Maybe more like a friend by proxy since we do end up spending a lot of time together. With both of our best friends insisting that the two of us tag along with neither of us having the real desire to tell them no. 

We've had a good conversation here and there when Sadie and Jayson are wrapped up in their own little world but I won't lie to you when I say that there have been some days or nights where we just sit in silence, watching the love birds do what they do.

If you ask me though it's never felt awkward. Has he been awkward and nervous? Yes. But it doesn't really bother me either. 

I wouldn't say that I seek out his company but I can't say that I don't feel a little disappointed when he's not around. More like there's something missing because obviously someone is missing, plus I'm forced to pay more attention to the two of them if it's just me.

It's times like that when he works up the courage to text me. Explaining why he wasn't able to make it as though he felt obligated to do so but he makes sure to offer me an ear when I want to complain about the nonsense those two get up to or what they managed to rope me into.

He sends funny memes to cheer me up, somehow knowing my sense of humor perfectly or complains to me in return about how boring and monotonous his job can be making me smile when he tells me he has to go because his boss is watching. As though he was a nervous teenager that couldn't spend a second away from his crush.

He couldn't have a crush on me could he? No, no that's not right. 

I let my thoughts of Jungkook drift off, the low hum of the TV soon lulling me to sleep resulting in me leaning against him, with him adjusting his posture to make it more comfortable for me, his arm soon migrating from resting on the back of the couch to loosely around my waist.

Something I've always noticed when I wake up though is that he's so comfortable. As though being this close to him feels natural. I will admit that when I've partially stirred awake and realized what I'd done I don't make an effort to wake up or pull away, indulging in the comfort for just a little while longer.

I feel bad though for the times that I wake up and he has to leave right away or when Sadie pulls me over and let's me lay on her lap to continue sleeping, making it a little easier for him to head out. It's as though he waits until the very last minute just to let me sleep a little while longer, not wanting to disturb me for as long as he can.

Tonight isn't one of those nights though, the ones where he has somewhere to go or some place to be. 

He just stays there, being as still as he can, letting me cuddle up to him as little or as much as I want to, eventually helping me lay my head down on his lap once Jayson and Sadie turn in for the night. The position being the slightest bit more comfortable this time with me eventually waking up three hours after the movie had finished.

My head is resting on his upper thigh, with my face basically buried into his torso but he doesn't seem to mind when I turn onto my back and see him absentmindedly scrolling through his phone. 

"What time is it?" I mumble, slightly startling him but he smiles at my groggy state soon after. "One thirty" he mumbles back, keeping his voice down so he doesn't force me awake too quickly. 

"You could've woken me up" I say, slowly sitting up and stretching before straightening out my appearance just the slightest bit. "I didn't have anywhere to be so I thought I'd just let you sleep" he shrugs and I hum. "Plus you seemed pretty exhausted so I thought you could use the rest" he adds and I can't help but give him a soft, hardly conscious smile. 

"Thanks" and he just smiles back at me. We sit there for a little while, and he eventually hands me a bottle of water that's on the coffee table to hopefully help me wake up but after a while I sigh and rest back back against the couch again. 

"What?" he chuckles, sensing my struggle. "Sadie was supposed to give me a ride home" I huff, realizing the predicament I've been put in, just because I wanted to get some shut eye. 

"I can give you a ride" he chuckles, seeing the clear solution but I shake my head. 

"I can't just keep you here and use you as my human pillow then have you give me a ride home as well" I counter but he just smiles. "It's really not a big deal" he counters and I sigh again, knowing he's probably not gonna take no for an answer. 

I can't help but get this...this indescribable feeling in my stomach that I so desperately want to ignore when I think about being alone with him. We are alone right now but that somehow seems...different.

"I have to go somewhere on your side of town anyways so your place is on my way" he says making me smile at his blatant lie. "At two in the morning?" I chuckle, checking my phone and quickly turning down the brightness so it won't blind me anymore.

"Yeah it's uh...open for twenty four hours" he say, making excuses to fit his claims. "You're lying to me aren't you?" I say, calling him out making him look down at his lap, slightly defeated seeing his excuse didn't work this time. 

"Yeah" he mumbles making me smile. "You could always just say that you want to give me a ride" I chuckle and from the way he clears his throat and looks away I can tell that that sentence has a completely different meaning to him than I had intended. 

"I um...I want to give you a ride...home. A ride home" he stammers, the whole interaction quite amusing to me. "Sure, I'd like that" I say and stand up with him getting up immediately, patting his pockets and making sure he has his keys. 

I grab my purse and make sure I have everything I need as well and when he sees that I didn't bring a warm jacket he gives me the other one he brought that he had put aside when he came in. "What's this for?" I ask, taking it suspiciously and draping it over my arm. 

"We're just walking to your car right? Pretty sure I don't need this for that short of a walk" I say and try to hand it back to him. He takes it back but instead wraps it around me and helps me put it on regardless, even going through the effort of zipping it up for me. 

"Trust me, you'll need it" he smiles softly after seeing how it fits me, clearly satisfied seeing me wearing something of his. 

"I look silly don't I?" I say, turning towards the full length mirror Sadie has in her entry way but he chuckles and shakes his head, standing behind me and looking at me through the reflection. 

"It looks perfect on you" he says just as soft as his smile and opens the door, urging for me to go in true gentlemanly like fashion leaving me rolling my eyes but going along with his efforts nonetheless. 

I lock up the apartment with my spare key and follow him as he leads me to what I had expected to be his usual black BMW but what I'm met with is an equally as black Harley Davidson with him unlocking the compartment in the back and handing me his spare helmet. 

This item although I don't take so willingly.

"You're joking right?" I scoff and cross my arms, the longer sleeves from his jacket by design giving me sweater paws making my stance a whole less defiant than I wanted. A pouty aura now stands in it's place.

"What? Never ridden a motorcycle before?" he smirks and walks over to me, choosing to put it on for me since he's pretty sure I wouldn't do it from my argument against this whole idea to begin with. 

"No I haven't and I don't plan to" I huff and try to take it off but he chuckles and holds it down against my head making me accept defeat with this part at least. Just because I put on the helmet doesn't mean I actually have to ride it. 

"You scared?" he chuckles, adjusting the strap under my chin and making sure it fits just right, smiling, satisfied with his work, amused with my soured expression. "I am not scared!" I argue and he smirks. 

"Then what's the problem sweetheart?" he says, his first time even daring to use a pet name with me catching me off guard. 

"The problem is, sweetheart, is that I don't wan't to. Those things are dangerous!" I argue and he smiles before putting his helmet on as well and taking my bag to place it in the back seat compartment and closes it. 

"Hey!" I argue when I realize what he's done, trying to get it back but it seems it locks automatically leaving my efforts sans key useless.

"Do you trust me?" he asks and my brows furrow, honestly not knowing the answer yet making me look away. "Y/n" he says, placing both of his hands on my shoulders and urging me to look at him leaving me ultimately relenting.

"Do you trust me?" he repeats, all the times I've let him in even in the slightest rushing through my psyche. Hell even just moments ago when I had been asleep and in a vulnerable state I trusted him to watch over me and so I nod my head. 

Admitting to him and myself that I've let him in, that I've let him break down these walls that I've built up even in the slightest making the sides of his eyes crinkle, the mask like helmet making it impossible to see his complete expression. 

"Good, now get on"

~~~~

I hold onto him as tight as I possibly can while he safely swerves between lanes and warns me when he's about to go around a bend and I can tell that everything about this predicament amuses him. 

"You know you can relax a little when we hit red lights" he calls out to me over the roar of the engine but my only answer is a quick 'Nope' while I grasp onto him tighter, his reactions always a dark chuckle that I can feel through his back that's pressed impossibly close to my chest the tighter I cling to him. 

At those red lights though he tends to remind me to keep my legs spread just a little wider, making sure I don't burn my calves on the hot metal of the bike. Placing both of his hands on my knees and spreading them a little wider. The act alone in this case is innocent but in others that I curse my mind for wandering to is anything but that.

"Hey" he calls out, the roar of his Harley no longer audible making his voice seem that much louder. "Yeah?" I ask, still completely clueless as to what he's trying to alert me to. "You can let go now" he chuckles, the sound no longer just felt but heard makes me pull back, so thankful his back is turned to me still.

"Sorry, I didn't realize we had gotten here already" I say and he shakes his head and pulls off his helmet before getting off and leaving me sliding down a little on the seat, loosing my balance and grabbing onto the handlebars. 

"I thought you said you didn't like motorcycles" he taunts and I huff. "I don't" I roll my eyes making him even more amused. "Really? Because you look like you're about to steal it from me" he points out, nodding towards my hands that are very much still on the handle bars. 

I let go of it as though I had burned myself and quickly getting off the bike, losing my balance and making Jungkook on instinct grabs my hips to keep me on my feet. 

After regaining my composure and realizing the predicament we're in leave me the one to call in back to reality. My hands although are still very much holding onto his biceps with his hands still gripping my hips with an almost bruising strength. 

I look up at him, seeing as he's looking down at me, an unreadable expression written on his face as though he was struggling with something leaving me really having to break him out of his train of thought. 

"Jungkook?" I say, loosening my grip on his arms. "Hmm?" he hums, still clearly lost in whatever thoughts had been holding him hostage, still looking at me but almost as if he couldn't focus on one feature. 

"Jungkook?" I say again, this time smiling and that breaks him out of it a bit more. "You can let go now" I laugh, leaving him blinking and letting go, taking a step back making both of our arms fall at our sides now. 

"Sorry um...are you okay?" he asks, remembering the fact that I almost fell on my ass. "I'm fine, are you?" I tilt my head at him leaving him looking away, a rosy tint deepening on his cheeks even in this twilight surrounding us. 

"Can you help me with this?" I ask after trying to struggle and get the helmet off leaving his mouth utter a inaudible 'oh' before stepping closer again and unbuckling the intricate strap under my chin. 

"See, home safe and sound" he chuckles after putting the helmets away and giving me my bag back. "Slightly traumatized but safe nonetheless" I say making the corner of his mouth turn up. 

"It wasn't that bad was it?" he asks with him now tilting his head at me, now understanding his reaction to when I do it. "Never make me do that again" I huff and turn to walk away and when I hear the sound of two sets of foot steps instead of one I turn around and watch as his steps stutter and come to a halt. 

"What?" he asks when he's met with a confused look. "What are you doing?" I ask and he's now the one rolling his eyes at me. "Walking you to the door?" he nods towards my front door making me cross my arms over my chest. 

"Why?" I cock my brow, "I'm perfectly capable of walking there myself" I argue but he looks down and chuckles. "I know, but I want to" he says when he looks back up at me, something about it making my heart flutter and therefore making me more susceptible to the whole idea. 

"Fine" I say and it's at that point I notice the fact that he had in fact planned this. Him having parked in a visitor parking space and going through the effort of taking his helmet off as well. Clearly showing me he had no intention of leaving right away making me turn around to hide the no doubt embarrassed expression on my face.

His footsteps trail behind me as I walk over to the stairs, choosing to not take the elevator because the thought alone of being in that small of a space with him seems intimidating enough. 

It's not like I'm on the fifth floor or something...just the third, making both of us slightly winded by the time we get to my door. 

He waits as I unlock my door and when I turn around he still doesn't look like he's in much of a rush to leave. "You gonna head home?" I ask, tossing my keys on the hooks next to my door and he smile. "You're not gonna invite me in?" he asks, nodding inside and I look back assessing the state of it and decide it's in an okay state to have visitors. 

"Do you wanna come inside?" I ask and he again clears his throat and looks away. Damn this boy has an even dirtier mind than I do. "Yeah um sure" he says, rubbing the back of his neck, the tips of his ears pink as if he wasn't the one that suggested this making me smile and walk in, leaving an open invitation. 

He follows soon after and closes the door behind him, quietly since it's about to be three in the morning so he doesn't feel like contributing to me getting an eviction notice. 

"It's been a while since you've been here huh?" I ask, grabbing both of us waters from the fridge with him nodding and taking it from me, making it a point to brush his fingers against mine before I pull back. 

"Yeah. It looks a little different" he says while taking in some things he hadn't noticed before, one of which being my little black cat that does a big stretch before walking over to him, smelling him and circling around his legs as if he was sizing him up. 

"I didn't know you had a cat" he says, leaning down and offering his hand down for him to get a little bit more familiar with his scent. "What's his name?" he asks, looking back up at me after having crouched down to pet him, seeing that he's taken a liking to him which surprises me to say the least. 

"Shadow" I say and I can't help but smile at the sight. "Hi Shadow" he coos again leaving me caught off guard when Shadow starts purring. "He really never takes a real liking to strangers, or at least not this quickly" I say and he smiles before standing back up, leaving me looking back up at him again. 

"I guess I'm just a likable guy" he jokes making me roll my eyes and sit down on the couch with him following after me. "You've got some pretty heavy duty curtains there" he points out, seeing my very dark, very black curtains to match my whole aesthetic.

"I have trouble sleeping sometimes so it's easier for me to keep as much light out that I can if I end up having to sleep during the day" I shrug and place my water down on the coffee table with him soon following after. 

"Is that why you're so sleepy all the time?" he asks making me hum, "Yeah, sorry about that" I apologize but he smiles and shakes his head. "There's nothing to be sorry about, I'm just glad I'm able to help you get some sleep sometimes" he says, his smile soon turning shy making him look away. 

His act of going in and out of shy to confident makes him that much more entertaining to me. With him although practically squirming under my gaze one second to practically giving me butterflies in the next. It's an interesting dynamic but one I don't put much thought into.

"Are you gonna have trouble sleeping tonight? You know with that long nap that you had" he says sheepishly as if he wasn't the one I had fallen asleep on. 

"Maybe, but I'm used to it" I shrug my shoulders and he nods, clearly trying to think through what he wants to say next but before he's able to a loud thunder clap resounds through my apartment, making me almost jump into his lap, the sudden sound catching me off guard.

"You alright?" he asks and I clear my throat awkwardly, and sit back, going back to my respective side of the couch. "Yup totally fine, completely fine actually. How are you doing?" I babble, clearly giving myself away which now is amusing him. 

"You're afraid of thunderstorms aren't you?" he asks, tilting his head at me and I nod, giving in right away because there's no use hiding this obvious answer. 

"Are you gonna be able to sleep through it?" he asks and although I know what he's gonna offer next I don't want to take advantage of his kindness especially since I don't want him to end up thinking I led him on because I can't make up my mind in the future.

"Probably not" I admit and he hums, thinking about it for a second before saying what I knew he was going to. "I could stay...if you want?" he asks, not wanting to overstep but sensing from my body language alone that I might need someone. 

"I-" "How about this. I don't really like the idea of riding my motorcycle in the middle of a thunderstorm so do you think you could offer me a place to stay for the night?" he asks, making me see that although I know he's doing this for me he does end up benefitting from it at least a little bit...or a lot a bit.

I think about it for a second and although I know I'm gonna say yes I can't help but hesitate. The thought of letting him stay making this whole thing I know we're starting to feel for each other that much more real.

"I guess it would be pretty shitty of me to kick you out in the rain huh?" I smile, wanting to add a little humor to the tension I clearly feel growing between us. "I mean it's your choice but I would really appreciate it if you didn't" he jokes making me smile. 

"You can stay on one condition" I say and he hums at that but I'm pretty sure he wouldn't have it any other way. "You have to sleep in my bed. My couch is too short and I'd feel horrible if you woke up with a kink in your neck or something because of it" I say and he gives me a cheeky smile. 

"It would defeat the purpose if I slept anywhere else but with you. You know, so I can keep you calm through the storm?" he chuckles and I nod, glad that we're on the same page although for different reasons.

"Did you wanna borrow some clothes? I have some baggy sweats and your waist is pretty small from what I remember so they'd probably fit you" I ramble and I know at that point that I've said way too much when he gives me a wicked smile. 

"Have you been checking me out y/n?" he asks and scoots just a bit closer. "No, no I just remember from the few times we've gone to the beach together. You know, with Sadie and Jayson?" I make excuses but he's not buying it. 

"So you haven't been checking me out now but you did then?" his smile never leaving his face. 

"Did you want the clothes or not?" I scowl making him even more enticed to keep teasing but he hums in agreement and watches as I jump up from the couch. 

"Wait here" I say and he nods his head, resting his arm across the back of the couch and spreading his legs just a little wider than necessary with him shamelessly checking me out as much as I am with him. 

I scurry off to my room though, the thought of crossing anymore lines with him than I'm about to already is something I'm not ready for yet...yet? No! I'm not ready for period! I'm not ready for anything like that and I don't want to put a strain on our relationship if something ends up happening. 

I change and take some very much needed deep breaths before going back to the living room with the baggy set of clothes I had offered to him and see that he's started to explore. He takes a closer look at the pictures that I have hung up and zeroes in on one on my desk of Sadie and I in those aforementioned pictures I had mentioned. 

"You looked really different here" he chuckles and I walk over and put the picture frame face down, not wanting him to have to see that image for any longer. 

"I didn't have much of a choice back then. Plus you know that was the style back then" I explain and hand him the clothes before resting against the desk, making sure he doesn't try to look at it again.

He hums and takes the clothes making my eyes furrow. "What's that supposed to mean?" I ask but he smiles and shakes his head. "Nothing" he says and places the clothes on the desk next to me. 

"What do you mean it's nothing? It has to be something if you're acting like that" I huff and glare at him as he looks away, clearly more amused at this situation than I can comprehend. "I just had an image in my head of you always dressing like you usually do" he says and looks down at me, making me realize just how little space is left between us.

"How do I usually dress?" I ask, knowing the answer but wanting him to elaborate, wanting to know exactly what he thinks about the way that I dress. "You know, all dark and scary" he smirks and places both of his hands on either side of my hips on the desk, leaning down to my height making me back away from him. 

"You think I'm scary?" I scoff and look away, trying to hide how much his close proximity has caught me off guard. "I used to" he hums making me look at him, his honesty although obvious is peculiar to admit at this point. 

"And now?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper making the corner of his mouth upturn but before he's able to respond another roar of thunder smashes us out of our "Moment" if you could even call it that. Embarrassingly forcing me to cling onto him as if my life depended on it, with him on instinct wrapping his arms around my waist to keep me steady, now realizing just how scared I truly am.

"Hey, it's okay, you're okay" he says in a hushed tone, pulling me even closer, him feeling the rapid beating of my heart through my chest. 

He rests his head on top of mine with me practically trying to crawl into his chest with how close I'm trying to be and he finds it endearing to say the least. "You're safe, I got you" he says, after another one roars, making me cling onto him, practically shaking at this point. 

"How do you know?" I mumble against his chest and he pushes me away and leans down so he could be at my level. I look away again, this time trying to hide how completely embarrassed I am for being so scared of something that I know is silly but I can't help it. 

He tilts his head trying to catch my glance and when that doesn't work he cups my cheek and brings me back over to him but even then in my stubbornness when I still won't look at him he tilts my chin up and I finally relinquish to his efforts. 

"I'm not gonna let anything happen to you" he says softly and I nod before going back in, knowing that at the end of the day he's the one who's gonna keep me safe. 

No matter what he's always gonna be there for me...and that's what scares me.

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Loving Obedience

[It’s Smut. Look away. Back door stuff. Happy Valentine’s Day]

Today is the day. Jaune wanted to pretend he wasn’t excited, but today was the day! Well, potentially. Thanks to a very interesting holiday gift, the groundwork for an even crazier Valentine’s Day with Ruby has been established.

“Someone looks happy today.” Weiss said, noticing the slight pep in his step as he walked with her down the hall to their apartment with their leftovers in hand. “I doubt a seafood bowl made you this fat and happy.”

“You underestimate my love of lobster. It’s as strong as your passion for cocktail shrimp.”

“Ha! Nothing is as strong as that.”

“Not even our love?”

Her cheeks turned pinkish. Weiss playfully rolled her eyes at his words. “Spare me the cheesy comments. I just ate.”

“Probably more than Ruby would’ve.”

“Hey! Uncalled for!” Weiss huffed. “This is not how you treat someone on a date.” She turned her head in faux outrage but quickly cracked a grin when she felt Jaune’s arms pull her into a hug.

“I’m soooorrry, my lovely Snow Angel.”

“Hmph! I guess the meal is worth a warning.” Weiss kissed his cheek then slipped out of his grasp. “Come on. Let’s get these leftovers to Ruby.”

“I’m still surprised she didn’t want to join us.”

“Are you though?” Apparently she had something she wanted to prepare for. Wouldn’t tell me what, but obviously it’s for you.” Weiss looked over her shoulder to see the boy’s face growing red. “You two are a couple of beasts.”

“Pfft, and you’re not?”

“I may have certain desires but I pale in comparison to you both!” She stated, knowing her argument was flimsy.

“So you aren’t curious at all about what’s happening?”

“I- well…that’s a different story altogether. Ruby isn’t the type to be secretive or embarrassed easily with this type of thing. That alone is hard to ignore.”

“Ah, so you are interested?”

“So!? That’s not the point! Regardless, I will give you both space. Unlike a certain someone, I don’t have a tendency to peek.” Just the memory of Ruby entering her room made her face burn.

“Hehe, honestly I don’t think Ruby would hate that. But I definitely wouldn’t mimic her boldness by coming if I were you. She’s really putting herself out there.

Okay now Weiss was super curious! What could they be experimenting with!? She already knew about the collar situation. Does the well go deeper?

Jaune couldn’t help but hold in a chuckle as Weiss walked into the apartment with a thousand thoughts. Their home looked mostly changed, except for the new trail of petals that lead to his room.

“Y’know, you’re quite lucky. How many people get these kinds of Valentines?”

Jaune put the leftovers on the counter. “You say that as if you’re the one who treated me to lunch or surprised you with shrimp cocktail.”

“Touché. I’ll give you that.” Weiss walked up and kissed his cheek again. “Well, if you’re not unbelievably tired when you’re done spending time with Ruby, I can reveal my gift. And before your thoughts go crazy, it’s an actual store bought item.”

“Aw, you didn’t have to, but thanks.”

“Ruby helped me when we both went to breakfast. I fear you too might make me fat.”

“We’d have more of you to hug.”

“Blegh!” Weiss grinned, gently pushing him towards the hall. “Go spend time with your girlfriend. I need a break from your corny comebacks. I’ll put the food away.

“Byyye! Love you too.”

Weiss watched Jaune step into his room, barely catching his eyes widening before he went in and closed the door. The young lady let out a deep sigh. “She didn’t tell me I had to leave the apartment, but if they get loud…” Weiss grumbled, wrestling with her inner demons and doing mental gymnastics. Her body hunched over and deflated. How could her mind go to such perverted places so quickly? “Maybe I am as bad as those two?”

xxxxxx

Jaune considered himself a fairly rational and reasonable person. He always tried to take in information and move with a sense of purpose and idea of what to do. This wasn’t the first time his room had been rose tinted with nice smelling candles and his girlfriend waiting patiently in lingerie for his return. However, it was the first Ruby sat right in the middle of his bed wearing absolutely nothing but a red collar, a headband with black dog ears, and most surprisingly, a long matching tail to which he couldn’t see the end of as it curved behind her. This was a lot to process and frankly, left little room for reason.

Ruby’s face was flushed beyond belief. Normally, she was rather confident when it came to lingerie and putting the moves on both her partners. This was different though; in every sense of the word. Blending both of their kinks with the added curiosity of taking a more submissive attitude had her well outside of her area of expertise.

“W-Welcome home. I uh…I’ve been prepping for today.”

“I can see that.” Jaune was still a little in disbelief. “When I mentioned anal a month ago, I was expecting a butt plug. This though, you never cease to surprise me.”

“Well, it is Valentine’s Day. Go big or go home, right?” She gave an awkward smile. Her eyes watched him approach the edge of the bed and gently reach out to hold the side of her face with his warm touch that never failed to put her at ease.

Those very fingers trailed down her neck and hooked under the collar, tugging her forward slowly until her face rested on the imprint of his restrained erection. His fingers continued their journey down to her left nipple and gave her body a sudden rush as he climbed down on her nipple. How cruel, immediately attacking her weakest spot like this.

“Ngh~”

“To think I’d get such a cute mutt for Valentine’s Day. You ready for obedience training?”

“Yessss.”

“Then show me how loyal you are.”

Ruby pressed her lips against Jaune’s crotch, slowly peppering it with kisses as her hands unbuttoned his jeans. She slipped the zipper between her teeth then pulled down until his heat and scent intensified. Jaune helped her out from fishing out his cock out over his waistband and resting it on her face unexpectedly. He was taking her request to switch roles rather seriously. He no doubt had gotten some decent experience from Weiss. Ruby felt like she was in good hands but also shocked to see her lovable dork so calm.

She stuck her tongue immediately, dragging it up slowly from the base to around the tip before slipping it properly into her mouth. She felt her cheeks burn as she kept eye contact; the way his gaze watched her jaw fall to swallow his girth made her hips ache. Ruby slowly worked her head down and back up, keeping her tongue engaged the whole time as she got a good taste of her man.

Jaune brought his hand back up to her face as wet and intoxicating warmth lathered his shaft. “Good girl. Just like that.”

Ruby’s ears were burning. How many times was she going to hear that today? She had to close her, focusing on the task at hand. Ruby used both of hers to grab the base of the shaft to suck harder.

“No hands.”

And just like that, she dropped them. His hips pressed forward the moment she did. Just like she practiced, she focused on breathing through her nose as Jaune went down her throat just enough to make her gasp. Ruby slowly moved her head back, still concentrating on breathing, before sliding his dick back down her throat.

“There ya go. Don’t force it.” He said calmly, letting her do most of the moving. Ruby brought her hands up again but to hold his steady as she continued her work.

She could feel tears well up from the initial thrust, but she quickly became accustomed to the feeling. Gods, how did Weiss do this so effortlessly. Seven throbbing and heavy inches kept her mouth wide open and had a taste that was dizzying to the point she didn’t notice her pace had increased. Her lips closed around his shaft completely. Breathing control and tongue. It’s all her mind could focus on as her mouth watered and throat opened with each push. Grunts and gasps left her body and Fingers twirled her hair into something to grip. Ruby dared not open her eyes; she didn’t even think to do so. All that mattered was her mouth sucking his cock. Yeah, she could see why Weiss does this. The feeling of fullness finally left her lips and air flooded in. Ruby gradually opened her eyes, her mind still dazed. Jaune was staring down at her with a redder face than he had before. Sometime during the experience he had removed his shirt as well.

“How was I?” She genuinely asked, his erection still in front of her face.

“Wonderful. Someone’s been clearly asking for tips.” He huffed.

“It’s still hard to put in practice though. Still…” Ruby kissed around the shaft and began stroking Jaune with her left hand. “I have my reliable methods.”

“Mngh, Ain’t that the truth?” He smiled. “But I didn’t stop you because it wasn’t getting me there. You don’t like cum in your mouth.”

“I’ve prepped my ass for you today. If you want me to swallow, I’ll drink it all.” She cooed. Her heart fluttered again. “I am your gift today. Use me how you want.”

“Heh. You’re my gift every day.” Jaune pressed her shoulders until Ruby fell on her back. “And I know better than to misuse gifts in my care.”

His hands grabbed her knees and separated them, revealing every part of her glory. Soaked, pink lips drooled down her legs and onto the black base of the tail she wore. Jaune used only his middle finger to trace in between Ruby’s petals and coat it in nectar.

“So ready and wanting, and yet it won’t be used.” He pushed his finger in without hesitation.

“Aaaagh!” Ruby’s Bach arched from the jolt of pleasure. His knuckles bent and moved side to side, kneading her flesh like a massage. Ruby couldn’t even collect her thoughts before the warmth of his tongue captured her clit. Her voice cracked. “AAAGH!”

Jaune did as he pleased, holding her hips down with his left arm as he slurped up her desire. Any attempt to move only made him drag his dinner back. “Don’t you dare run from it~”

Ruby tried so hard to stay still but it felt so impossible! Her hands clawed at the sheets for strength while her lips bumbled through curses and babble til her toes curled.

“I…I’m…!” She felt herself nearing the edge, then pulled back again before she could fall off. “Huh?” Her eyes looked down to see the man’s tongue leave her. His calm and calculated gaze told her everything she needed to know. He wasn’t letting her cum that easily.

“Something wrong?”

“N-No.” her voice trembled, still riled up. His fingers barely grazed her butt and ever so slightly tugged on the tail. “Nngh, please, don’t stare.” Ruby covered her eyes.

“I’ve seen you naked countless times and now you’re getting shy?” Jaune pushed the tail in just to watch her body jolt.

“It’s different this time!”

“It is, isn’t it?” Jaune finally got on the bed, resting on his knees as he put Ruby’s legs on each side of him. He pinched the base of the tail with a steady grip. “I’m gonna pull this out slowly, okay?” The girl’s arm slowly came down and gave him a nod.

With measured strength, Jaune gently pulled on the tail, causing him to learn something unexpected. Jaune had thought the end of the tail would be a simple metal plug. What he got was the reveal of two big black beads getting dragged out of Ruby’s ass and leaving it gaping as she took a deep breath. A dark shade of red washed over his face and reasoning dwindled further.

“You weren’t kidding when you said you’ve been preparing. Where’d you find this?” He asked, slightly breaking character.

“I’ve been talking to Blake.” Ruby whined, still reeling from the stimulation of everything really.

It’s always Blake. Oh what Jaune wouldn’t give to be a fly on the wall for that conversation. Even she had to be shocked for her own leader to ask about not only a butt plug, but a tail one at that.

Jaune briefly got up, removing his pants properly and grabbing lube from his nightstand before returning to Ruby. “If you need to call a quits, say the name of your scythe.”

Admittedly she had never thought about needing a safe word. In truth, though her heart raced, her body felt like fire that wanted to burn hotter. She wanted as Jaune laid his cock on her pussy. His hips rocked forward devilishly, sliding his length through her lips to coat it further in depravity as he poured some lube on it. Ruby bit her lip as his tip brushed by her clit. If only it would slide in properly.

“Can you please-”

“Nope.” Jaune said abruptly, watching her chest rise and fall. He lubed his middle and ring finger. “This is all the fun your pussy gets. There’s other things I want to play with.”

The two fingers slid inside her ass. Ruby gasped for air at the sudden pressure. It wasn’t as bad as the tail, but Jaune’s fingers rubbed the inside that kept her legs moving.

“You okay?”

“It…It’s weird, but okay.” She gasped between breaths. His fingers left again for more lube before massaging around the entrance. Ruby took another look at Jaune’s erection. The way it remained rigid and imposing; was it really going to fit? Has it always been this…big? The tip slowly disappeared from sight as his hips pulled back. She quickly felt its presence poking her back door.

Ruby shut her eyes again and tried her best to relax, her hands already gripping the sheets for support. Cautiously, she felt the head of Jaune’s cock push inside. So far so good, until the slow push quickly quickly brought her his swollen shaft.

“Uuunnnngh!” Ruby felt her lungs squeezing the air out. “H-Hold on!”

Jaune stopped his advances to give her time to breathe. “Take your time. In and out; breathe just like that.”

“It feels weird!”

“Want me to stop?”

“No, I just..agh.” Ruby exhaled, losing her thoughts. “How much more?”

“Not much more. You’re almost done.” He lied a little. She was halfway down. Jaune put his right hand on her boob and massaged it; meanwhile his left tenderly rubbed Ruby’s clit, giving her pleasure as her body adjusted.

“Aaah! Nngh, Jaune. Keep moving.” Her words reached him. Ruby felt him push again as she fought her body to lesson inch by inch.

After an eternity, Ruby felt his skin press against the back of her legs. At last she felt the base as the rest twitched inside with a violent heat. That same heat began gradually escaping her body before pressing forward back into the depths; Ruby’s bottom lip threatened to bleed as she bit it harder with each passing stroke.

Jaune swallowed his grunts and took in the girl’s messy appearance while her body gripped him in immense tightness.

“You okay?”

“It feels so weird!” Ruby panted, still catching her breath. “But…it’s not hurting.” Her hands gripped Jaune’s forearms.

He must’ve taken it as a sign. His hips moved faster, churning her insides in a way that rubbed her stomach yet mocked her pussy. It’s as if he was playing with it from the outside, and she didn’t hate it. Did it show on her face? Maybe it ran down her legs. Whatever the case, Jaune pulled his hips back and thrusted deep, bottoming her out.

“AH! Too hard!” She whimpered.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Ruby opened her eyes halfway to witness the man causing her such crazy sensation sweat as he looked at her with a deep hunger. He must be holding back so much for her sake. “Y-You can go faster though, if you want. I can take it.”

Dangerous words for sure. What was a display of subservience led to Jaune leaning down and claiming her tongue. Ruby’s arms instinctively wrapped around his broad back. Just like before, she let her jaw hang open and fell victim to Jaune’s lips. Deep, husky grunts escaped both of them as he rutted her faster. Ruby dug her nails into his skin to stay sane while her tongue was conquered. Every separation was for pockets of air and followed wet smacking that competed with his cock pumping into her. This was so much of everything. Ruby didn’t know if she wanted more or was dying for a break. This growing feeling was like hunger itself, yet she was full while being completely empty.

“Oh, oh gods…” Ruby cried out. How could someone feel so hot and cold at the same time? Jaune’s teeth found her neck. “AH! FUCK~”

“You’re doing such a good job for me. You feel so good! You sound like you’re made for this.”

Her cheeks burned. “Noooo! I’m not!”

“Then why are you moaning?” Jaune bit her neck hard.”

“AAAAH! JAUNE! AAAGH!” She was on the edge again, but it terrified her; made her ears red with embarrassment as she tried to endure. “No! Waaait!”

Jaune leaned into her ear. He could feel her crumbling. “Do it. Where is it? Where’s my cock?”

“…My ass.”

“Louder.” He bit her again.

“MY ASS!” She whaled, her head getting fuzzy again. “Your fucking my ass!”

“You gonna cum from it!?”

“YES!”

“Good girl. Don’t hold anything back! Keep climbing. Keep clinging on until three…two…” he found her nipple for good measure. “One.”

Jaune pinched it hard and gave Ruby another bite.

“GAAAAAAH!” Ruby screamed like a horror movie character. Her vision nearly disappeared as the orgasm wrecked her body. A rush of her nectar came flowing from between her trembling legs and ruined Jaune’s sheets.

The man himself got off of her so she could breathe, and he could watch her shake and pant like a dog. Jaune pulled his cock out to see her squirm further.

“You okay?” He said with a mixture of pride and disbelief.

Ruby let his question hang in the air for a few seconds before finding the composer to speak. “H- Fuck…”

It’s not often Jaune gets her swearing. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He said, wiping his cock down with wipes. “Need a minute?”

Ruby looked at his body. He hadn’t cum yet. Jaune was still rigid and waiting. Her mind wasn’t sure how to handle that. His teasing had left her ripe for the picking. He put the wipes down and slid a finger in her ass again.

“H-Hey.” Her voice quivered. “Mercy~”

“You don’t look like you’re ready to call a quits.” He slid in another to keep her in pieces.

Ruby helplessly watched as Jaunty played with her ass. She wasn’t sure if it could handle another beating, but he was right on the money about her body wanting more. That annoying hunger was still there. She wasn’t full, and he knew that.

“Pl-Please.” Ruby’s entire body was flushed. “Please fuck me properly.”

“I thought I was pretty clear that’s not the hole I was interested in today.” He mocked, pumping his fingers faster. “Maybe more training is in order?”

Ruby couldn’t stop herself from whimpering. His thumb brushed past her interest, but just barely. “Jaune, please! I’ll be a good girl!”

“Beg.”

“I’LL DO ANYTHING!” She blurted out, desperate for him. “You’ve marked my body. Torn my ass apart; please mark my womb.”

Jaune watched her fingers struggle to stay in place. She didn’t dare touch herself. Ruby simply endured, waiting for his every word. He took a look at her headband before looking her in the eyes. “Take it like a good girl would want it.”

Her eyes flickered. Even in this state, she understood. Ruby turned around and got on all fours, arching her back and resting on her forearms. Jaune didn’t ask but she looked over her shoulder and swayed her hips slowly, not caring how she looked for a second. The embarrassment didn’t matter; Ruby wanted him.

“Please, let me cum on your cock.”

It was amazing how she pushed his buttons. Jaune placed his left hand on her back and ran up to her nape. His fingers settled into damp strands of red before pushing her head against the mattress and gripping tightly.

Ruby didn’t utter a word, feeling his cock glide over her ass, then finally dipping lower to be swallowed by her aching walls. Her teeth bit into the sheets as Jaune gave her exactly what she wanted. A deep and rough pounding.

“NNNNGHHAAA! MMMNGH!”

“What do you say!?”

“Thank you. THANK YOOUUU~!” Ruby felt his right hand grip her waist, pulling it into his thrusts. Each stroke sounded like puddles in the rain. Ruby could literally feel her body grip him, coating his cock until it dripped white.

“He’s gonna get me hooked on this!” Ruby could hardly scream anymore with how out of breath she was. The best she could do was gasp and grunt each time he filled her. Both of her legs felt like lead while her hips were made of jelly. With her strength gone and her wits lost, all there was to focus on was how her nipples grazed the sheets beneath her, and the heat drilling into her. The sound of puddles grew louder.

Jaune could feel her body relax, the tension in her muscles disappear while her walls let him strike deep into her core. He got a little bolder, rubbing his thumb around the rim of her ass before easily sinking it in. A blissful sigh blessed his ears. At this point, Ruby was simply gonna take him.

“Where do you want it?” He groaned, reaching his limit.”

“I don’t care. Just let me feel it.”

“Someone’s been cumming all alone, hasn’t she?”

“S-rry” her body trembled, feeling her womb get kissed. Her voice was shakier. Almost as if she was trying not to cry. “So good. You feel so good~ Fuck, I’m close again.”

“Hold it.”

“But-”

“Hold it.” He said firmly, speeding up his thrusts. “I’m close too.”

Beads of sweat rolled down Ruby’s face. Sharp breaths of air flare her nostrils as she concentrates on holding back her orgasm. Would he be upset if she just- no, she didn’t want to disappoint him. Not now of all times. Not when he’s given her what she wanted. She had to listen. Wanted to listen. Her ears were burning to hear his praise again; to feel him let go and mark her body in any way he desired. He wasn’t gonna pull out. Ruby could tell how he ached and throbbed constantly inside; how he dared to entertain her womb’s entrance by prodding it so obviously. It opened for him. How could it not? This collar, this position! How could her body not want anything more than him to…

“Breed me like a bitch in heat~”

Ruby didn’t know if Jaune heard her filthy request, but all the same, a rush of his hot load poured into her body and broke the floodgates keeping her resilience. Ruby’s pussy gripped and squeezed him obsessively while her mind wandered. Her hips kept his cock buried inside, swaying left and right to make him pull her waist against him as he groaned like a beast.

Finally, Jaune pried himself away from her, pulling out and letting her hips fall onto the bed. Even he couldn’t believe the sight in front of him.

“You’re so perfect.” He uttered in disbelief.

“I love you too.” Ruby let out the single chuckle she could. She didn’t make an effort to budge. She honestly could’ve passed out in peace right where she was; that was until the mattress sunk by her face.

The silvered eye girl glanced upward to see the very thing responsible for her state hovering by her lips. Even half flaccid, it commanded her attention as it dripped with a mix of their arousal. Ruby didn’t hesitate to wrap her lips around Jaune, slowly using her tongue to clean the mess she made as the potent taste of the man poured down her throat while his fingers played with her hair. One time; she just wanted to hear him say those magic words one more time. Ruby looked up at him. Tired, dazed, wanting, yet willing all the same.

Jaune smiled softly. “That’s my girl.”

Ruby felt a warmth in her cheeks again. She took extra care to swallow him whole until her nose touched his waist while he continued his praise. It would appear his earlier reservations had faded. That was fine by her. If Jaune asked for it, she’d taste every drop.

xxxxxx

It wasn’t long after clearing him that Ruby did pass out, her body completely spent. Jaune managed to put her under the covers and replace the comforter with another; thank goodness it was the only casualty. He’d wash it later. For now, Jaune put on black boxers and quietly left his own room. The young man only took several steps before walking into Weiss’s without so much as a knock.

The girl immediately jumped, her face flushed ear to ear and hair a little frazzled. She sat on top of her bed with her knees together, hands cradled in each other.

“Y-Yes?” Weiss stuttered. He didn’t say a word, only getting closer until he was within arms reach. Jaune held her by her shoulders and gradually pushed her down with ease.

His hands rubbed the underside of her thighs before pulling them apart to reveal soaked, flushed red lips. Weiss covered her face but it hid no shame.

Jaune moved between her legs to keep them open while he removed her hands to see her eyes. “How long were you watching?”

“…Since the tail was removed.” Her eyes were glued to the cock he pulled out. Once was never enough for him, and he was clearly going easy on Ruby because of her inexperience. To make things worse, it glowed with his aura. He knew exactly what she wanted, or rather, where she wanted it.

“How many times did you cum?”

“Twice.”

“How long did you watch?”

“Until you came inside of her.”

“Naughty, naughty. Looks like someone’s sex drive is higher than she says she is.”

Weiss pouted, hating the reality of that. “You two were so loud. Anyone would-” Jaune slowly raised his cock away from her ass.

“Was that an excuse?”

“No sir.” She said seamlessly. His fingers tugged on the top of her dress, slipping a sleeve down to reveal that she removed her bra long ago. The blonde leaned over her and kissed her neck. The tension he put against her pulse made her heart bound. No doubt he felt every beat as his palm massaged her right tit. “Jaune~”

“Give me a reason.”

“I can take it. You know I can.” A raspiness invaded her lungs. The heat of Jaune’s body receded until it was completely gone.

Jaune sat on the bed and waited for Weiss to sit up. “I’m a bit tired, so if there’s something you want, you’re gonna have to get it.” He had to push her a little. “Or I could leave?”

How cruel of him. Was this the price of snooping, Ruby simply riling him up. Weiss moved towards Jaune, straddling the man. If this was her punishment, then she’d swallow her pride and accept it. Weiss needed an itch only he could scratch.

Carefully, Weiss raised her hips then lowered herself onto Jaune until he was deep inside of her ass. It was like electricity ran up her spine and made her head heavy. Weiss wrapped her arms around Jaune’s shoulders, hid her face in the crook of his neck, then rocked her hips. Jaune was kind enough to grab her waist for stability. She wanted to go slow. Gods, she wished she could go slow; to keep some sense of dignity. Unfortunately, seeing how he treated Ruby had made it difficult to keep composure. Weiss sat completely in his lap and grinded roughly, chasing her desires to the point they slipped through her lips.

“Ah~ aghn~” Weiss looked him in the eyes. “Please move.”

“Can’t do it alone?” He smirked.

She really created her own monster. “You know it’s better when you help.” Weiss hid her face again. It was a good thing she knew he wanted her, and how to push the right buttons. “Please…” Weiss shut her eyes and spoke her most humbling desire. “Daddy~”

“…Don’t wake Ruby up.”

Weiss felt his fingers run down her rear and squeeze. The knight’s strength pulled her in and raised her body up, only to drag it back down. Weiss fought a guttural grunt by biting his neck and holding on as he used her for both their benefits. Jaune made sure her weight came down on his cock each and every slam to the point the echo might drown out her voice. She didn’t dare test it. Despite her pussy making a pond out of his lap.

“Getting close again?” Jaune grunted. A burn in his forearms threatened his rhythm with each passing second.

“Yeah. Just…a little mor-” Suddenly, all weight shifted forward and Weiss yelled out of shock. “Aah!”

Her back hit the mattress While Jaune remained in her arms. Before she could let go to check if he was okay, a strong thrust knocked the air out her lungs and kept her mouth open. Again and again, his cock found a new spot to strike in this position without remorse. Voiceless cries squeaked out of her throat each time his weight sunk into her. Weiss’s legs wrapped around his lower back while tears welled up behind closed eyes. She really didn’t want to hurt him. It never felt okay for her to leave actual marks, but with nothing else to hold, her nails threatened to break the skin on his back.

Jaune listened to the strained cries of a pampered heiress as her body massaged his length. He put all the strength he could muster into making Weiss melt with bliss as he reached his end. Even someone with his stamina still had his limits. He couldn’t even warn her before letting loose another load. He could feel her body clench the second he began filling her. Finally, her voice returned as her lungs gained breath for distorted moans.

“Uuungh! Aaaaghn~!” Her orgasm tickled her brain and dosed Jaune’s legs.

Despite the fact it was very much possible Ruby had somehow figured out or assumed Weiss’s more intimate kinks, Weiss just might have to thank the girl. Jaune had put on his best performance to date!

“Can we go one more round?” She asked, wanting to live in the moment.

“Mmmm…”

“Jaune?” Weiss raised her head up from his neck. His hold on her body loosened while his weight became heavier. Weiss poked the boy’s face a few times before getting light snoring. “…Hehe.” She couldn’t even be shocked. It’s been a busy day. Weiss kissed the top of his head and let him lay precisely where he was. “You’re lucky I love you.”

xxxxx

A couple hours flew by in an instant. Ruby emerged from the boy’s room in one of his massive shirts feeling sore and in desperate need of water. The speedy girl took one careful step at a time down the hallway to the kitchen. To her surprise, Weiss was there eating her leftovers she left on their countertop. Ruby shuffled past her slowly, grabbing a cup and filling it with water. For once, Ruby was okay with utter silence. It was only when Weiss casually handed over a restaurant container that Ruby felt obligated to speak.

“Th-Thanks.” She opened it and began eating.

“Yeeeep.” Weiss rested her head in her arms. “Nice hickies.”

Ruby inhaled slowly, trying not to turn the same shade of red as the marks she was given. “Things got a little intense.”

“The amazing Ruby Rose, bashful after sex. Never thought I’d see the day.”

“Don’t get used to it.” Ruby huffed, fighting off the recent memories. Right now she was unsure if she was entirely sore or yearning for more. “Letting him take the lead was fun, but not a new lifestyle. I can see why you’re crazy about it though.”

“Careful. It sounds like you might want me to top you.”

“Ha, you’d have to fight me for it. Knowing your preferences, you’d lose on purpose.”

“Hardy har. Can’t believe I got you leftovers.”

“I love you too.” Ruby puts her head on top of Weiss. “Is he knocked out?”

“Yep.”

“Was it your doing?”

“Me? Who was the one screaming so loud the neighbors probably heard? If anything it was a team effort.” Weiss lightly jabbed Ruby.

“Ugh. Fair point. My bad. So uhh, what parts did you hear exactly?” Ruby was getting warmer by the second.

Weiss slid her way from under the girl, catching Ruby’s head before it hit the counter. “Nothing worth repeating.” Weiss kissed the girl’s forehead then walked off. A small token of goodwill, considering she couldn’t resist peeking.

Ruby wanted to scream inside. Weiss definitely heard everything but spared her the conversation. It was probably for the better. After all, today happened because she saw what Jaune and Weiss got up to!

Ruby remained mentally and physically drained in the kitchen while Weiss casually laid down on the couch and listened to music. She’ll come clean eventually. Not right now though. This was much funnier. At this rate, they will all probably end up sleeping together again. Weiss let out a shallow sigh and smiled from the absurdity of it all. If Ruby asked, she wouldn’t be opposed.

“I really am as bad as those two.”

[itslenagain]

"You, there!" the regal voice calls down the hallway.

Shit. I'm toast.

Mother taught me three very important things about visiting Olympus - one, never reveal that I am a child of Zeus. Two, never steal anything from the Temple. And three, most important of all, NEVER allow my existence to be discovered by Hera.

And who but Hera, my unaware-but-still-somehow-wicked stepmother, would happen to be entering the hallway at the same time I attempted to duck into the kitchen for a late night snack.

"Why are you up at this hour?"

My mind races, searching for a way to escape. I'm surrounded by dead ends. I wonder briefly how severe my injuries would be if I attempted to jump out a window. My heart races as incoming footsteps signal my inevitable demise.

Except, when I turn my face to hers, I can tell that Hera has been crying.

She studies me for a moment. "Who are you?"

Shit. SHIT.

"I'm, ah, Eulalia," I lie. "New in town."

She continues to stare me down in suspicion. I'm so fucked. I have to think fast...

"Hera? Why are you up so late?"

She's briefly surprised by the question, but regains her composure quickly. "I was feeling snackish. It looks as though you were also headed to the kitchen." After a pause, she adds, "You may accompany me, if you wish."

I watch her face, and I am perplexed. I should run. I should get myself far away from Hera, as fast as I can. But instead, I find myself nodding gently. Something so achingly familiar to me hides behind her icy gaze.

She glides past me into the kitchen, gauzy green robe trailing softly behind her. I nervously grab a pear from the counter and sit at the small table.

"...is that it?" Hera says, raising an eyebrow. I blush. She sizes me up for a moment, and seems to come to some unspoken conclusion. "If you tell anyone about what I am about to show you, I will personally kill you." I swallow down the rising bile in my throat and let out a far-too-anxious laugh. She opens the refrigerator and reaches for something in the back. "Now, this is a snack worth getting out of bed for." She pulls out a container full of spinach and carrots and places it carefully on the table. She brushes her hands over the lid, and her eyes glow. When she takes off the lid...

"Melopita!" I exclaim. She looks at me sternly. My hands fly up to my mouth.

"Don't make me regret sharing." She cuts a generous slice and places it in front of me. I tear into the slice with a ferocity that rivals a lion hungrily taking down its prey. I hear her laugh. Her eyes are still puffy, but she looks... softer. Lighter, even.

She positions her knife to cut a small slice of the melopita, and this time, I am the one to shoot her a look. "Is that it?" I ask playfully. She moves the knife a little. "Oh, come on. Is that worth getting out of bed for?!" She moves it a little more and looks at me, eyebrow raised. She lets out a huff. She chucks the knife into the sink and grabs a spoon. "YES!" I cheer. She laughs again. The sound warms me to my core. I wonder how often she allows herself to be vulnerable in this way.

We sit for a moment in silence, enjoying the sweet treat. "So, what's your story?" She asks. I gulp. "Married? Kids? Anything?"

"Not married, no kids. As for the rest... Well, uh. I'm still figuring it out, honestly."

"Aren't we all," Hera sighs. She looks at her feet.

Before any sense of self preservation can convince me not to speak, my mouth is forming words. "Hera, are you okay?"

She's taken aback. Her face becomes stone once again. "Of course I am okay. What a stupid thing to ask," she says coldly. I should have stayed quiet. I should walk away now and never speak to her again.

Instead, I speak to her again. "I don't mean to upset you. I just wondered if anyone has ever asked you that before."

Hera says nothing. She silently rises from her seat and crosses to the door frame. She hesitates before crossing the threshold. "I don't need anyone to worry about me." She says firmly.

"Maybe not, but I'm still gonna."

She stiffens. Then, she walks away without another word.

~~~

Later that week, I find myself making a familiar late-night pilgrimage to the kitchen. I listen carefully as I maneuver the halls of the Temple, checking around the corners before turning. She's nowhere in sight. I hope it stays that way.

I walk down the same corridor where I encountered Hera for the first time. The walls are lined with pictures of my father and his brothers. I pause next to one where Zeus and Hera stand together. His authoritative expression dominates the portrait. His arm is wrapped firmly around his wife, his sister. Hera's eyes are cold and empty.

When I see her sat at the table in the kitchen, they're red and wet.

She looks up at me. Her mouth opens, but no words come out. My heart breaks for her.

I cross to the refrigerator and pull out my own secret container. "Chocolate ice cream?" She nods.

We sit together in silence. I watch her shovel spoonfuls of ice cream into her mouth. Her long hair hangs limply about her head. I want to hug her and tell her it will all be okay, and I want to run away and hope she forgets all about me. Both are true. I am terrified.

It becomes a ritual. I watch Hera lead beside her husband by day with steely-eyed ruthlessness. An then, in that small kitchen in the middle of the night, I come to sit with her quietly while she cries. She never says a word, and neither do I.

~~~

Before I know what is happening, someone is pulling me into a closet. I nearly lose my balance, but slender arms wrap around me, covering my mouth. The door closes and the lock clicks. For a brief, horrifying moment, I am plunged into complete darkness, and unable to call for help. "Don't scream," a voice hisses into my ear. The lights flip on.

Before me stands a tall woman in an iridescent gown. Iris. Her arms are crossed, eyes narrowed. The hand comes off of my mouth. I turn to see another woman still holding my body back. Iris takes a step closer to me and leans in. "What are your intentions with my mistress?"

"...What?"

"Hera might seem like an easy target to you, but she's your worst nightmare" she hisses. "What are you planning?"

"I don't understand," I choke. "I'm not planning anything."

Iris stares at me for a long time. She puts a hand on my shoulder and leans so closely into my face that I can feel her breath on my cheek. "I know who you are. I know what you are. And if you hurt her, I will tell her everything, and she will end you, Ophelia."

My blood turns cold. I feel my hands growing numb. "I-I don't want to hurt her. I'm not trying to, I swear. She seems like she needs some help."

"I can help her," Iris hisses. Her eyes stay fixed on me. Her lip twists in disgust. Is this... jealousy? I feel the heat return to my cheeks.

"It's not like that!" Her eyes hit me like daggers. "She's my aunt!"

Iris continues to stare me down. Whatever she hopes to find, she doesn't. She lets out a sharp exhale. She motions to the woman behind me to let me go. Iris looks at me again. "She's a hard person to get close to, trust me. I didn't understand." She unlocks the door. "As long as you're just trying to help... well, I'll keep your secret if you keep mine." I nod. "No funny business, okay?"

I smirk. She rolls her eyes at me.

~~~

Tonight, when I enter the empty kitchen, I am surprised to feel a certain sadness about it. How have I gone from being afraid of Hera, to being her silent confidant? I sit down at the table. The empty seat across from mine feels unnatural.

"Hi," a voice says from behind me. I turn to see Hera standing in the doorway of the kitchen. "Can we take a walk?"

The garden outside the Temple is illuminated by a mixture of moonlight and tiny lanterns. "Why do you keep showing up?"

"...For snacks?"

Hera snorts. "If it was just about snacks, you could come earlier or later and avoid me." I look at my feet. "I give you part of me. You've seen me cry. Nobody sees that. Give me something. Please."

I stop walking. Hera turns to face me. I take a deep breath. "Two years ago, I was going to be married. It was something my mother chose for me. His family was wealthy and influential. I had some type love for him, don't get me wrong... but it wasn't the kind of love I want. He loved the fact that he had control over me. He loved me only when I submitted to the things he wanted. I had to be the kind of person he could love in order for him to love me, even if it meant being someone, something, that I absolutely am not." I feel my hands shake. I breathe in, and then out. "He lied to me. He cheated on me. He physically and verbally abused me." I swat at the tears rolling down my cheeks. "Walking away was the hardest thing I ever had to do. I didn't have anyone to help me through it."

I feel arms wrap around me. I lean in to her warmth. The sobs rip through me. My chest heaves. Hera strokes my hair. I realize that she is crying too. I hug her tight.

"...I'm not ready to walk away yet," Hera sobs.

I put my hands on her shoulders and look her in the eyes. "It's okay. Just know that I'm here for you no matter what you decide."

We stand together for a while, arm-in-arm. "Can I ask you one more thing?"

"What's up?"

"Can I call you my niece, Ophelia?"

My heart drops. "You know?"

Hera looks at me, an eyebrow raised. "I was going to kill you." I feel myself growing pale. She just laughs. "I found out the morning after we met, and I wanted to kill you. But I remembered what you said. And then I had this strange feeling that fate brought us together for a reason." She pulls my still-stunned figure into another hug. "Thank you for worrying about me. Maybe with your support, one day, I will be ready."

"As one of Zeus bastard children, you are doomed to be targeted by Hera, however you found a way to get on the queens good side before she found out who your father is. "

[enthuzimuzzyme]

A Matter of Life and Death

A Disneyfied Retelling of the Famous Underworld Love Story

Introduction:

There once was a lonely king...

Who was tasked to eternally watch over the deceased and the damned under the earth. Sounds familiar, right? We've all heard that story told a million times before, in a million different ways. But, despite all the misfortune that befell him, Hades remains, to this day, a living testament to the power of love.

How? How could a grumpy, ill-tempered death god really represent the power of love, you might ask. Well, I'm about to tell you– in about twenty chapters.

This is a story about how the bitter Lord of the Underworld came to meet his much beloved Queen, and the controversy their unlikely union has stirred up over the millennia.

Chapter One:

New Beginnings Meet Old Endings

     Spring. Hades thought bitterly. Again.

      The Lord of the Underworld watched with glowing eyes as a single flower petal bobbed slowly passed his nose. Snatching it out of the air in one swift motion, Hades reduced the leaflet to embers in a small violet puff of smoke. Hermes, who’d been relaxing on the bow of an olive tree nearby, eyed him discomfitly from his perch.

     “The appeal continues to escape me.” Hades jeered, flicking flakes of stiff gray ash away from his fingers.

     Hades was on one of his semi-regular reconnaissance missions, gathering any salvageable blackmail material he could on his brothers. Since his retrieval from Tartarus, he’d been under close observation by his Olympian constituents. They couldn’t risk another titanic fiasco.

     Poor Hermes had even (begrudgingly) been assigned his not-so-temporary chaperone. How hard could it be? Zeus had mused. Report any suspicious behavior back to me. Which had sounded simple enough at the time, but everything Hades did seemed suspicious and keeping him out of trouble proved more difficult than Hermes could’ve imagined. Especially when it was a slow day in the Underworld.

     Suddenly, a faint orange glow—like a loose beam of sunlight—caught Hades’s attention from some distance away.

     “Who is that?” Hades whistled.  Hermes turned to see what could possibly be interesting enough to distract him from grousing about Spring.

     The messenger god squinted through his spectacles and caught a glimpse of her.

     Across the field from them, standing under an apricot tree, was a woman. Only, Hades judged by the way she glowed, and the way she was able to simply poof! fruit out thin air,  that she couldn’t possibly have been mortal.

     The pair of deities were close enough to this mystery goddess that the hankering God of the Dead could just make out how lovely she was; long copper curls, gentle, focused green eyes. Even from this distance, her benign disposition washed them both in a warm, comfortable sense of ease — the kind that Spring was known for. It was almost as if she herself was the season incarnate.

      One by one, the goddess continued plucking fruits lazily from the branches and dropping them into a basket at her feet.

     Hermes adjusted his spectacles, just barely catching an eager Hades by the neck of his chiton with the arc of his caduceus.

     “Whoa, whoa— cool it, Ace. That one’s off limits.”

     Hades tossed his hands down at his sides in frustration and rolled his eyes.

     “What’s the big deal? Geez, it’s like you topsiders are committed to keeping me from having a love life, like honestly.”

     The messenger deity wafted around Hades with ease, tossing a thumb over his shoulder toward the mystery goddess.

     “You know who that is, don’t you? That’s Demeter’s kid, man. Hustling her is a huge no-no.”

     “Hustle? Please — who said anything about hustling? I’m just trying to get the gal’s name.”

     Hermes tilted his little purple spectacles down with a skeptical look. The Lord of the Underworld ignored him.

     “So, you know her?” Hades had an all-too-familiar and unsettling gleam in his eye. The Lord of the Dead threw an arm around Hermes’s shoulders and offered him an impish grin.

     “What’s her name, huh? Hermes, babe —throw a death god a bone, will ya?”

     Hermes looked about ready to protest when all the bells went off in his head at once. Ding! Ding! Ding! —  maybe he was onto something here.

      With Hades distracted — and happy —chasing a wife around like a love-struck puppy dog, he and the rest of the Olympians could take a load off. No more half-baked schemes or hostile takeover attempts. No more pointless intrusions or aggressive come-ons. And most importantly, Hermes wouldn’t have to take time out of his already overbooked schedule to babysit. They’d be sitting pretty for the rest of eternity. It was perfect.

      At the poor gal’s expense, He thought only slightly ruefully. Or not, maybe by some miracle she’ll actually like him.

     They’ll work it out, a desperate Hermes concluded mentally, waving his hand in the air, trying to ease his slightly guilty conscience.

     “What are you asking me for? You should ask her yourself, you know— the old-fashioned way.” The messenger god shrugged nonchalantly with a smile teetering on sly, tapping his caduceus in his open palm.

     Hades fluffed out his chiton and smoothed back his smoldering coiffure.

     “Sit tight, flyboy, and watch the master at work—”

     Now, it would have been difficult to miss Hades’s broad physique looming above her like a black cloud, blocking her strip of sun, but if she knew he was standing there beside the trunk she didn’t acknowledge him. The beautiful mystery goddess simply continued to pick tiny golden fruits off the tree and drop them into her already overfilled basket.

     Hades cleared his throat after a few moments, and she looked up at him only briefly.

     “Look— harvest complaints are Demeter’s department.” She said, a pinch sourly, “I just work here.”

     “If you have a problem with this year’s crop, take it up with her.”

     Hades blinked.

     “Seriously? That’s what you think I’m doing?”

     She eyed him for a moment. He waited for her to show some sign of recognition, but the goddess didn’t even flinch. Hades gestured toward her with outstretched hands.

     “No offense, but your Ma was the last thing on my mind when I saw you standing over here— I mean, c’mon, really? Pretty little thing like you, all by yourself? I’da been a fool to pass up the opportunity to introduce myself.”

     He thrust out his long skeletal fingers in greeting as if to shake her hand.

     “Hey, how ya doin’? Hades, Lord of the Dead, Reaper of Souls, yada yada. You get it.”

     She chuckled softly and swept bronze curls over her shoulder, her tenor lightening some. She manifested another perfectly ripe apricot on a low hanging branch.

     “Oh, I’m familiar.”

     Hades pursed his lips and steepled his fingers with a smirk.

     “I see my reputation precedes me— what am I, some kinda celebrity up there on the roof of the world?”

     “More like a felon,” She retorted with a dry smile, turning back to her work. Charmed by her repartee, Hades appeared on the other side of the tree and leaned forward onto the trunk.

     “That’s cute— you’re cute— Well, you know, beggars can’t be choosers I guess but, hey— I saw you standing over here, all by your lonesome and thought you could use some company. What’s your name, chickadee?”

     The mystery goddess popped out a hip and rooted her palm to it. Hermes watched Hades’s desperate flirtations, amused, and slightly hopeful, from a safe distance. He’d half expected the almost entirely anti-social Persephone to brush Hades off immediately and was pleasantly surprised that—somehow— the God of the Dead had held his ground.

     Hermes crossed his fingers behind his back. Home stretch— here’s hoping he doesn’t blow it.

     “Take a wild guess.” She replied. Hades’s reputation for hitting on nearly every unattended goddess in the Pantheon wasn’t lost on her, but she was bored, and this beat the hours she’d otherwise be spending listening to her mother wax poetic over a tablet of annual crop output.

     He rubbed his hands together and grinned.

     “Oh, Ho Ho— you’re not going to make this easy on me, are you? Let’s see, let’s see…”

     The Lord of the Underworld slumped coolly against the trunk, scratching his chin thoughtfully. He studied her with a bold and scrupulous eye. Hades wasn’t one to back off in the face of a challenge, and for someone who lacked patience in pretty much every capacity, he had a knack for getting himself mixed up in long-term plots.

     “Judging by your accoutre— very lovely, by the way, really brings out the green in your eyes— you’re some… kinda… nature goddess, am I right?”

     “You’re getting warmer.” She tapped the tip of her nose, tickled.

     “Something springy— like uh, Juniper? Nah. Jennifer maybe? Josephine, Jacqueline?”

     The goddess rolled her eyes, and he could tell he was beginning to get under her skin, “What were you the god of again? Annoying people to death? You aren’t even going alphabetically.”

      “What can I say? I like to start in the middle and work my way out,”

     Hades walked two fingers up the ridge of her shoulder where she swatted them away casually with the back of her hand. Unbothered by her annoyance, Hades smirked. Sensing he was finally starting to wear her down, the death god dug his heels in and leaned closer to her.

     “You know what, I think I’ve got it— Jane right? Maybe it’s Julia? Johanna? Listen babe, I can do this all day.”

     “That’s it—you’re impossible.” She threw up her hands with an airy, exasperated sigh and bent to gather her spoils.

     Hades chuckled, reached around her and stole one of her apricots. The goddess lifted a brow and pursed her lips.

     “You know babe, I’m pretty sure this is the longest any goddess has tolerated me, like ever, I’m starting to think I’m growing on you...” He wiggled his brows at his own pun, rolling the fruit back and forth in his palm as it shriveled into a wrinkly, indistinct lump, decaying nearly instantly at his touch. She let out an exaggerated groan of disapproval.

     “Unbelievable. He makes jokes now.”

     Hades wiped his hands clean on his chiton of the rotted apricot juice and gave a defensive shrug, gesturing animatedly at her person.

     “What? That was some of my best material. C’mon, seriously, Petals— can I call you Petals? — what’s a guy gotta do to get a girl’s name huh? You want me to dance a jig? I’ll do it, don’t tempt me,”

     The goddess set her closed fists on her waist and sighed wearily.

     “You really aren’t going to leave me alone until I tell you, huh?”

     Hades examined his fingernails and gave her an obstinate shake of his head.

     “Persephone,” she said finally, extending out her hand to him. “Goddess of Spring.”

     Hades’s face lit up with a smug look of satisfaction. Using her outstretched hand as leverage, he pulled her in just close enough that she could feel his breath on her face.

     “Charmed,” He hummed, pressing a loud kiss to the back of her hand.

     “So, Persy—"

     “Persephone—"

     “Yeah, yeah— right, right— Persy,”

      Before Hades could finish his thought, Persephone carefully pulled her hand away from him with a pleasantly bemused smile. Stepping backward, she bumped the heel of her sandal against her basket of apricots.

     “Sorry— Hades, this has been fun, but I know for a fact I’m not supposed to be talking to you and I’m sure you don’t want to get caught wandering around up here, so….” Persephone tossed her hand up in a parting gesture before collecting her fruit basket and leaning it expertly against her hip. Judging he had maybe a matter of seconds before she left and never came back, Hades lifted his hands haltingly.

     “Yeah— and if you know anything about me, then I’m sure you know I don’t follow the rules very well.” He insisted, following closely beside her.

     Persephone quirked a brow.

     “Hold on— listen, listen,”

     Hades floated around her silently like an early morning fog rolling off the Aegean. It might have bothered Persephone how quiet and quick he moved had she not already seen him do it once before. He plucked a freshly opened apricot blossom off the branch closest to them and delicately pinned back her hair with it.

     “You’re alone— I’m alone, what say we be alone together, huh?” He clasped his fingers together, “You look like you could use a break, and I could use some feminine company,”

     He expected immediate rejection. Every moment she spent not turning her nose up at him was, in his mind, a tiny victory. He figured it was now or never — cast in his line and see what he caught.

      “You mean, like a date?”

     “Yes! Exactly like a date, you read my mind,”

     She seemed to consider his request. Which to him was a good sign. Hades felt a long-buried part of himself begin to feel hopeful. What were the odds he might find himself so close to success? About as unlikely as you’d think.

     “As tempting as that sounds, we just met and—" Persephone smiled, delicately unpinning the blossom and placing it in his open palm, “I’m on duty,”

     “Semantics. C’mon, the world’s not gonna end if you play hookie for a day. What are you, miss-goodie-two-sandals or somethin’? Don’t you ever cut loose?” Hades crossed his index finger over his heart, “I promise I’m a better time than I look—"

     When she still didn’t seem convinced, Hades began to feel defeated. Across the field, the messenger god hovered.

     That’s my cue.

     Hermes appeared beside Hades before he could protest further and whispered behind his hand into the Lord of the Underworld’s ear,

     “Tell her you’ll bring your dog— chicks dig dogs, works like a charm.”

     Hermes grinned at the shrewd Persephone innocently. Hades straightened out the clasp on his chiton, cleared his throat and folded his hands once again.

     “Listen— I’ll bring my dog.”

     “Cerberus—?”

     Hades nodded. Her eyes glittered.

     Eagerly, and with considerably less hesitation than either visiting deity expected, Persephone yanked forward on Hades’s sleeve and blurted out an excited,

     “Deal!”

[here-there-be-fics]

The interviews and bts are picking up speed and I'm kind of lamenting hiatus already because bucktommy fandom has been so active, positive and lovely and weekly episodes are sure to stir up even more drama but alas!

With discussion going around about Buck dealing with some 'feelings', which will most likely be his feelings of being left behind and abandoned, which feels a little like rehashing old stories yet again....But putting that aside, I've seen some people concerned and that's fine it's normal but honestly I'm feeling pretty good about the idea of Buck tackling his abandonment issues head on for a change. Based on O Stark's recent interview (his jumble of words should never be taken too seriously though) it seems like even he is shocked they are going to potentially make actual headway on Buck dealing with these issues finally.

As a bucktommy fan I don't think it's a bad thing either, if it goes where my thoughts/opinions are (which could be entirely off course) they are taking advantage of Eddie having to go away to fix things with Chris and JLH having to take a little time away for other projects that have been mentioned in fandom, so Maddie being a bit asbent after the kidnapping arch which would make sense for her recovery....they probably pivoted really quickly into the bucktommy breakup once JLH'd schedule became apparent to line up the 'alone buck' story. It would seem callous for Tommy to break up with him once his sister has been kidnapped so hurried the breakup up to make the leaving of Maddie and Eddie hit harder. Just like adding in 805 to make the breakup hit harder. We know they did a lot of pivoting with shoots and storelines, including breaking up Buck and Tommy earlier than originally planned. They are going really hard on piling one thing on top of another for Buck!

I'm hoping the arch ends with buck realising he's not alone, that people dont leave because of him but for their own sake to find their way back to him as better versions of themselves. Also that he learns to actually go after what he wants, that he realises he can't just expect others to make him feel like he isn't alone, that he can take his own assertive action to get the life he wants, to stop being idle and actively fill it with the people he wants in his life long term.....and yes this could absolutely mean Tommy.

[jack-of-heartstrings]

OH HOLY SHIT, ANARKA FANART??? This literally made my morning. I absolutely adore her and I never see this level of appreciation. She looks amazing!!!

I'm not sure about the past stuff, given Crocoduel goes out of its way to make it clear there was some huge miscommunication. It's very likely neither of their stories is quite the truth. But he says their record saved him after she left him, and she says it tore them apart, so it SOUNDS LIKE something might have happened where either they were "taking a break" or he wildly misunderstood her being upset with him as leaving him or something, and she didn't think it was over but he did, and then he went and got famous on his own, and she took it as going behind her back/abandoning her. Or something?

It would... honestly be kind of grimly funny if her pregnancy was directly a factor, too. She has anger issues even now. I could fully imagine her getting worse because early hormones and neither of them realized yet that was why. Either way, given Jagged knew Luka's name and how Anarka adamantly refused to talk about him, I kind of assume it was her choice to be full no-contact. A stubborn "I don't want your money. You made it clear you didn't want to be part of this family and I don't want you around in any capacity." Dumbass goes on to write My Guitar Is My Only Family to vent his feelings about that with no idea his kids will grow up loving the song. 😔

EITHER WAY...

God I love her. Like... One of the writers described her as "the mom everyone wants unless she's yours." She's fascinating to me.

She clearly does still have anger issues, but "your sister and I are the only ones I've never wanted to throw overboard." I still have to imagine that's a big part of why Juleka's so timid and Luka's so emotionally mature. That even if it wasn't aimed at them, Juleka still grew up watching her go off on other people and never wanted to risk adding to her stress. That Luka is like this partly due to learning to watch for times Juleka was holding her tongue, and partly because he himself was more stubborn and abrasive for a while. That Anarka always did her best to keep herself more in check when dealing with the kids but she and Luka still used to get into arguments about things like her refusing to disclose any information about their dad, leading to him often running off to the bridge to calm down, like he's mentioned to Marinette. And that learning to accept and process all that has led to his "it's not worth it" and walking away faster from arguments now.

I still imagine she's always done her best and succeeded for the most part. She supports the kids in everything they want to do. I've been a little feral over the cameo in Sublimation showing her teaching music and fully want to believe that's been her job for a long time, in other schools, because yeah that makes sense. Turning her passion into a more mundane job that helps other people... And that makes Luka's dream of not being a musician but giving other people the gift of music in another way that much better. 🥹

Also?

Her name is Anarka Couffaine. LIKE... It can be loosely translated as "Anarchy of the coffin" (/"from the grave"?) AND it's a pun on acouphène / "tinnitus". I am 1,000% convinced this woman as a musician gave herself the edgiest stage name imaginable, legally changed it, and then just casually passed that name onto her kids. Her name was probably like, Nancy or something. (Anything "less cool" could work but that one could explain Jagged calling her Nanarky.) She just straight up went "I make my own rules" and then she did forever.

Also the Liberty is just insanely cool on its own. Delighted that it immediately became the designated Hangout Spot from its introduction onward as it should. Anarka just letting twenty kids casually come and go at all hours like. God I love her.

Young Anarka

I dunno… Like

Her past intrigued me the most out of all the adult characters, and I can't understand her mix with Jagged. Like, he cheated on her and she got pregnant? They had an open relationship? Or did they only share intimacy? Why did she never tell her kids about their father? And why didn't their father pay child support lmao…

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

🗨️ 🗨️ 🗨️ 🗨️ 🗨️ 🗨️ 🗨️ 🗨️ 🗨️ 🗨️ 🗨️ 🗨️ 🗨️ 🗨️ 🗨️ 🗨️ 🗨️ 🗨️ 🗨️ 🗨️ 🗨️ 🗨️ 🗨️ 🗨️ 🗨️ 🗨️ 🗨️ 🗨️

FIRST WORDS OF THIS BAD BOY

84 for 🗨️:

---

It all starts because of a call to a senior’s home. 

Well, okay. Buck is sure it all started way before that. But in the immediate sense, it starts because of the senior’s home call. 

There’s a small kitchen fire in one of the units. Someone making stovetop popcorn, who forgot it was on the element. Honestly, it’s nothing the staff couldn’t handle with a fire extinguisher, but the LAFD is automatically flagged when the smoke alarm goes off. The problem is, the whole experience - the alarms, the smoke, the firefighters - triggers a panic attack in a completely different resident. A resident who, according to staff, already struggles with progressing dementia.

Her name is Alva, and when Hen and Chim approach her to try and help, she’s speaking rapid-fire in a language that is completely unfamiliar to Buck. Some flavor of European? 

“Sometimes when she’s stressed, her English regresses,” one of the workers explains. “She didn’t learn it until later in life, so…”

“Harder to retain,” Hen fills in. 

“So how do we communicate with her?” Chim asks. “What language is this?”

“It’s Swedish,” Eddie says. 

They all look at him. Buck did not know he could identify Swedish just by hearing it. 

But then he does something even crazier. Even more out of the realm of what Buck would expect from Eddie. Eddie, his best friend, who he’s supposed to know everything about. He approaches the woman and starts speaking to her. In Swedish. He doesn’t sound totally comfortable with it. It’s slow and awkward on his tongue, compared to hers. But he’s obviously doing a decent enough job, because the woman calms down enough to listen and respond to him. 

The four of them - Buck, Bobby, Hen, and Chim - just sort of gape at this exchange. Did anyone know? Why has this never come up before? 

Eventually, Eddie looks back at them. 

“Alva’s okay,” he says in English. “Doesn’t need to go to the hospital.”

“Thank you so much,” the worker says. “You’re a miracle worker!”

Eddie’s cheeks go a little red. “No trouble, really.”

They give Alva another few minutes to calm down and orient herself before a worker leads her back to her room. Then they all head back to the station. Of course, from the look on Eddie’s face as they leave the senior’s home, he understands he’s about to get grilled.

“So…” Bobby starts when they all sit down in the engine.

“Swedish?” Chim asks. 

“Wouldn’t have put money on that,” Hen adds.

“Why did you tell me?” Buck asks.

Eddie groans. “So I speak a little Swedish. No big deal.”

“Um, it is a big deal,” Buck says. “Because I didn’t know.”

“I’d say more than a little,” Bobby replies. “You really helped that woman, Eddie.”

“I’ve mentioned my mom is Swedish,” Eddie says. 

“Yeah,” Chim says. “But I thought it was, like, one of those things where it’s several generations past and culturally no longer relevant, but the white side of your family liked feeling special?”

Eddie snorts. “No. Like, she immigrated when she was seven.”

“And taught you Swedish?” Hen asks. “That’s cool.”

Buck frowns. Given what he knows about Eddie’s childhood, mother-son language lessons do not sound like they fit. 

“Not exactly,” Eddie says. “I picked some of it up. There’s not much else to say, okay? It came in handy today.”

They all know Eddie enough to know that that means the conversation is over. He’s great at putting up walls quickly. Shutting stuff down. But, although Buck may not know the full linguistic capabilities of his best friend, he does know one thing. Eddie only gets this dismissive because there is more to the story. So Buck will wait. Buck can wait to ask more. But he’s absolutely going to find out. 

🗨️

It’s sort of a sensitive time to be prying into Eddie’s life. Buck knows that. The guy has only been home from El Paso for two weeks. He’s got Chris back. That’s a good thing. But it’s not entirely smooth.

[nanamineedstherapy]

Seven Minutes in Heaven (Chapter Two)

F!Reader x Gojo Satoru

Previous Chapter 1 (Tumblr/Ao3)

Summary: It was supposed to be a normal frat party. Just a stupid game of Seven Minutes in Heaven. Just him, king of never taking anything seriously, getting shoved into a closet for a dumb dare. And yet. Now, he can’t sleep. Can’t think. Can’t stop thinking about you. And one by one, his friends are starting to realize—Whatever happened in that closet? It never really ended.

Outside in the garden, Toji mocked. "Man got a straight-up haunted hard-on."

"Wait, wait, wait," Sukuna wheezed. "Tell me why bro just made out with a ghost so hard he got a fucking boner."

"Can we not call it that?" Satoru groaned.

"That’s exactly what it was," Hiromi confirmed, shaking his head. "You got seduced by a fucking spirit."

Shiu, lying on the grass scrolling through his phone, barely looked up as he added, "Even in the afterlife, women aren’t safe from your dick preceding your reputation."

"I'm gonna kill myself," Satoru muttered, running a hand down his face.

"Ghost girl might be into that," Choso said thoughtfully, sipping a beer.

"Yo, shut the fuck up," Satoru snapped.

"You were rock hard for a literal corpse." Shoko was almost rolling in the grass, clutching her bottle.

"FOR THE LAST TIME, I DIDN’T KNOW SHE WAS A GHOST!"

"And yet," Suguru drawled, gesturing vaguely at the still-very-visible problem in his jeans.

Satoru made a strangled noise, willing his soul to leave his body.

“If I see your haunted dick in my nightmares, I’m suing." Yuki yelled.

"I have hater friends. At least she thought I was beautiful." Satoru smirked.

A collective groan echoed through the garden.

Kento dragged a hand down his face. "I hate him. I hate him."

"Fucker just got ghosted in every sense of the word, and he still has the audacity to make it about his looks." Kashimo jeered, leaning on Haibara, who was barely holding himself up.

"Kill yourself," Sukuna muttered.

"Honestly, yeah," Hiromi agreed.

Satoru just grinned. "Jealous much?"

Suguru physically sighed. "Let's go, you delusional horny disaster."

---

Satoru couldn’t stop thinking about you.

Not the way your lips had felt against his, or how you made him laugh, or how you got flustered easily but still kissed him first like a paradox he couldn’t solve—though that haunted him, too.

No, it was the way you had looked at him.

Like you had been starving.

So, Satoru did what any rational person would do.

He spent an unhealthy amount of time at the library.

Gojo Satoru. At the library. Voluntarily. His friends thought he was having a crisis.

At first, there was nothing.

No students matching your description in the recent records.

No tragic accidents or ghost stories written in the university archives.

It was like you had never existed.

But then—

One night, while flipping through the school’s oldest records, something caught his eye.

An envelope stuffed with papers.

He pulled out a diary first.

Diary of Miss L/N

(Archivist - Leather-bound, gold-embossed. Found in the ruins of the university, its final pages splattered with what appears to be dried tears. Handwritten, ink fading in places. Some pages torn. Final entries nearly illegible—written in a shaking hand, desperate and uneven.)

January 3, 1914

There is a new litter of kittens in the old courtyard! I counted five, all squirming and mewling, their mother, a thin little thing who watches me with wary eyes. I left some bread soaked in milk, though I do not think she trusts me yet. Perhaps if I sit quietly tomorrow, she will let me closer.

(If I were a cat, would I be loved more easily?)

The groundskeeper scolded me, said I am too soft-hearted, that I let animals take advantage of me. As if a kitten could be cunning! I told him there is no harm in kindness. He only shook his head.

Satoru sat back, staring at the first entry, his thumb tracing your handwriting. He didn’t know much about you—hell, he didn’t even know you were alive a hundred years ago—but he could picture you, kneeling in the courtyard with kittens, trying to be kind. He imagined the faintest smile tugging at your lips when you saw them squirming in the dirt. The idea of you feeding a stray mother cat made his chest tighten in an odd, unfamiliar way. He ran his fingers along the edge of the paper, almost as if trying to feel your presence through it.

That groundskeeper? He was an idiot. He didn't get it. Satoru couldn't help but feel a spark of frustration. You didn’t need anyone’s permission to be kind. He almost laughed at the idea that someone might scold you for being soft-hearted. If anything, he wished he could go back and tell you not to worry about those around you. He would’ve probably looked at you the same way—the way he did when you kissed him, not knowing why or how, but unable to stop himself from caring just a little too much for someone so—soft.

January 10, 1914

I do not think they like me.

Not in the way they like each other.

They are polite, of course. They smile. They call me ‘Miss L/N’ with syrupy sweetness, but their eyes flicker. I see the way their lips press together when I speak. The way their laughter dies when I enter a room.

But it is alright. Not everyone has to like me.

I just wish they did not hate me, either.

Satoru skimmed the next entry, his eyes narrowing. You were already noticing the tension in the air, weren’t you? The polite smiles, the murmurs. The fake sweetness they showed you—he could practically hear the insincerity in their voices. He frowned, shaking his head. You didn’t deserve that. Nobody should ever make someone feel like they didn’t belong.

For some reason, even though you were long gone, he found himself angry on your behalf. He didn’t understand why they treated you that way. You were probably just too good for them, weren’t you? Too pure, too gentle. He shook the thought off, the sharpness of the moment still biting at him. It made him wonder if maybe he would’ve been one of the few who would’ve actually liked you.

January 25, 1913

Viscount Salvatore looked at me today. He did not merely glance—he looked. I was in the library, carrying too many books, and he leaned back in his chair, all effortless indifference, and drawled, "Planning to read all of those, Miss L/N? Or are you building a fort?"

(He thinks I am ridiculous.)

(He noticed me.)

I almost dropped Wuthering Heights on my foot.

A frown burrowed on Satoru’s face when he read about Viscount Salvatore. You noticed him. He noticed you.

He flipped your yearbook with his other hand to find any Salvtores; there had been two in your class who’d gone to become Army officials in the first World War and then died there. Your description fit the blue-eyed one with a cocky smirk. Like Satoru? Did you have a type?

He felt a slight sting in his chest at the thought of this Viscount—some guy who probably had no idea what to do with someone like you. Still, he couldn’t suppress the bitter taste in his mouth. Jealousy? Was that what this was?

A sigh slipped from his lips. It was stupid—he was more than a hundred years too late. He didn’t even know if you’d ever seen him the way he now imagined you looking at the Viscount. The thought of another guy noticing you—really noticing you—made him want to jump from a boat. But instead, he read on.

February 2, 1914

It was a joke. Just a prank.

"She'll cry and beg to be let out," one of them whispered, giggling behind her lace glove. "Let's see if Miss Perfect is still so polite in the dark."

The door slammed. The lock clicked.

The dark swallowed me whole.

I did not beg.

I bit my tongue until I tasted iron and waited. And when they let me out—smirking, triumphant—I smoothed my skirts, fixed my hair, and walked past them as if I had not spent the last hour choking on the thick, dusty air.

They did not like that.

"A little too perfect, isn’t she?"

(They will do it again.)

Satoru’s eyebrows furrowed as his gaze lingered on the next entry. You were trapped. Locked in a closet by the very people you probably thought were your friends. It was sickening. He almost couldn't finish reading—his stomach lurched with disgust. The way you didn't beg... it said so much about you. You must’ve been used to pain by then, used to being pushed aside and ignored. But still—you walked out of there like nothing had happened, like you didn’t carry the weight of what they had just done to you.

Satoru shook his head, muttering to himself, “Cowards. All of them.” He clenched the paper tighter in his hand. He hated the idea of you facing that kind of cruelty alone, without anyone there to stop it. He could feel it—your loneliness, your frustration, your unwillingness to break. And somehow, it only made him want to be there for you more. He'd never admit it, but there was a strange urge within him to make it right—even if it was a century too late.

February 10, 1914

Today, I found a sparrow with a broken wing. I named him Edgar (after Poe, of course).

I should have left him alone. Mother says I should not dirty my hands with such things. But he was shivering—how could I leave him?

Viscount Salvatore saw me, kneeling in the grass, my gloves stained with dirt. He raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

Then, just as he passed, he murmured, "Don’t name it. You’ll only make it harder."

He has such an awful way of speaking. Always so practical. So cold.

(He was right. Edgar did not make it through the night.)

Satoru didn’t expect to feel as deeply affected by this entry. You found a broken bird and tried to help it. Just like the kittens. Just like everything else. He read about the sparrow, Edgar, and that bitter, practical remark from Viscount Salvatore.

He rolled his eyes. That guy was cold, wasn’t he? It was almost like he couldn't even understand that you just wanted to do something kind. His jaw clenched slightly at the thought of this Viscount, cold and indifferent. Did he not understand the pain of losing something you tried so desperately to save?

“You deserved better than that.” Satoru muttered quietly to himself. He could barely comprehend it, but it stung to think of you, caring for something so fragile, and yet not having anyone there to help you when you needed it most. He could almost hear the sadness in your voice, like you were speaking not just about the bird, but about yourself.

February 13, 1914

Razor blades in my book bag today.

I did not see them in time.

A sharp sting—red seeping into my gloves, blooming against the pale silk like a dying rose.

A girl gasped.

One of them. The one who used to call me her friend.

She reached for me, hesitated. Opened her mouth—closed it.

Did nothing.

(They are all cowards.)

I smiled at her anyway.

(It is getting harder to smile.)

The entry made Satoru stop in his tracks. Razor blades? What the hell...? He had to reread the paragraph twice, the sharpness of the words sinking into him with every line. It was hard to stomach—knowing that someone, one of the people who had once called you their friend, did this to you. Left you bleeding and didn’t even care.

He felt a fire burning in his chest now, a rage that was foreign to him. A strange protectiveness, something darker, almost suffocating. He didn't know how you had kept going through all this. And yet, you had. You smiled through it all, even when everything in the world was trying to break you.

Satoru stood up suddenly, pacing around the room. He was aware of how ridiculous this was—he didn’t even know you. But damn it, you deserved someone who would’ve fought for you. Someone who would’ve taken those blades from your hands and never let you feel alone.

February 14, 1914

Viscount Salvatore pulled out a chair for me today.

The smallest thing. A flick of his wrist. A glance in my direction. A murmured, "Miss L/N."

But I have not been spoken to kindly in so long.

For a moment, my eyes burned. My throat ached.

But I said nothing. I only sat.

And when I looked up—just for a second—he was already watching me.

(What a strange, strange man.)

Satoru’s fingers lightly brushed over the paper. He didn’t know what it was, but something about that entry—Viscount Salvatore pulling out a chair for you—made him pause. He didn't react outwardly, keeping his face carefully blank, but internally? There was a slight stir of discomfort. It was such a small, insignificant thing, yet it meant so much to you. A simple gesture, something that should’ve been normal.

He imagined the quiet moment, your surprise. The thought that such a little thing could make you feel seen, even for a second, gnawed at him. A frustrated sigh left his lips. Why did it have to be like that? If he were there—if only he were there, he would’ve shown you kindness, not just with gestures, but with actions. But that was a thought he quickly pushed aside, frustrated by how much time had slipped through his fingers. He kept reading, though.

February 20, 1914

I have decided. I loathe Viscount Salvatore.

He is insufferable. He speaks in riddles and always looks as if he is laughing at me. I do not know why I bother thinking of him.

(He held the door open for me today. Said nothing. Just waited.)

(I hate him.)

A faint chuckle escaped his lips as he read the next entry. You’d decided to loathe Viscount Salvatore now. "Insufferable," you called him. Satoru almost wanted to agree, though he couldn't completely share your sentiment. He had a feeling there was more to him—more that was left unsaid. Still, it was a funny thought. Viscount Salvatore being that frustrating, mysterious figure. Satoru was intrigued by how you wrote about him with such sharpness, but the words seemed like a cover for something deeper. He wasn’t sure what, but the tension between you two was palpable.

“Is it really that bad?” he muttered, flipping the page, knowing he wasn’t going to get an answer. He felt a flicker of something, but the rest of the entry, especially with the way he “held the door open,” left him feeling... unsure. He wasn't exactly proud of it, but maybe there was some part of him that didn't want you to find comfort in anyone else.

March 2, 1914

I found a dead rat in my desk.

Its body bloated, eyes staring.

Its tiny mouth open, frozen in a silent scream.

There was a note pinned to its belly. Still feeling generous?

I swallowed back the nausea and took it outside myself.

(It is getting harder to breathe here.)

Satoru’s expression hardened as he read about the dead rat in your desk. He closed his eyes briefly, forcing himself to focus. The cruel games they played—it disgusted him. He could almost feel the sickening weight of it, as if it were happening right there, in front of him. Who does that? He set the paper down and ran his hand through his hair, trying to keep his composure, though his jaw was tight.

You didn’t even flinch. You simply took it outside. There was an odd kind of resolve in the way you wrote that. No begging. No breaking down. Just... handling it yourself. It made him uneasy—how much you had to endure, and how little anyone had cared. He couldn’t imagine what you went through, not yet, but the pieces were starting to come together. The cruelty. The silence. The isolation.

June 20, 1914

I am tired.

No, not tired. Weary.

I wake up with my body braced, waiting for something—waiting for the next whisper, the next cruel trick, the next unseen hand that will shove me down the stairs when no one is looking.

I have not eaten all day.

(They will not break me.)

The word “weary” hit Satoru like a punch to the gut. He could picture you, slumped in exhaustion, never having the chance to recover. He could almost hear the quiet panic that sat beneath those words. The next cruel trick, the next shove—it was too much. His hand tightened around the paper as he read on.

He didn’t need to know everything to understand that what you were going through wasn’t just physical. It was something deeper. Something that made your bones ache and your heart heavy. And yet, here you were, still breathing, still defiant. He let out a breath, annoyed at the powerlessness he felt just from reading your words.

July 24, 1914

I am going to the party.

They said they want to start over. That it was all just foolish jealousy. That they want to be friends.

I should not believe them.

I know I should not believe them.

But I am so, so tired of being alone.

Just for one night, I want to pretend I belong.

Satoru frowned, eyes narrowing. The truth was already in your words before you even said it. He felt an odd mix of sympathy and frustration as you told yourself you were going to the party—hoping, wishing to belong, even for just one night. He had to read that part again, swallowing a lump in his throat.

He flipped the page; the diary ended. Satoru immediately scrambled to pull out another stack of papers from the binder.

Final Entries – Found Scribbled in the Dark on Stationary available inside the closet

(Archivist - Stray pages, ink smudged. Words scratched over and rewritten as if she could not make her fingers hold steady.)

July 25, 1914

They lied.

Of course they lied.

The music was loud. The air was thick with cigarette smoke and laughter. For the first time in years, I thought—maybe.

Then hands.

Grabbing. Dragging.

"Let’s see how perfect you are now."

They locked me inside.

A closet. Small. Cramped.

The door will not open.

It has been hours.

(Or has it? I can’t tell.)

No one is coming.

The change in tone was abrupt, and Satoru’s pulse quickened as he read about the party. He could feel the shift, the claustrophobia, the betrayal seeping through the paper. The scribbled words—he could almost hear you gasping for air, trapped in that small closet.

“They lied.” That one line stung. It was so raw. He couldn’t make sense of it. He couldn’t make it right. But he had to know—he had to understand why you were forgotten. He had to keep reading, even if it made his heart feel like it was crumbling under the weight.

???, 1914

How many hours has it been?

They will come back.

They must come back.

Please, please, please—

My throat aches.

I screamed until my throat bled.

No one heard.

No one wants to hear.

(They have forgotten me.)

Satoru’s hands clenched around the papers. They had broken you in ways that even time couldn’t erase. And he could do nothing. He gritted his teeth, struggling to stay composed, but it was impossible to ignore the ache that had settled in his chest. You’d screamed until your throat bled, and they had... forgotten you.

Satoru sat with his elbows on the desk, his fingers steepled against his lips as he read the next entries. He was quiet now, the usual restless energy in his body drained away, leaving only a tense stillness. The words on the page felt heavier with each line.

???, 1914

I am thirsty.

I am so thirsty.

If I press my ear against the door, I can hear the music.

(Another party?)

They are still dancing.

They are still laughing.

They are still living.

And I am here.

Satoru’s throat felt tight. He swallowed against it, as if somehow that would make up for the dryness that must have burned through yours. He could picture it too clearly—the way your lips must have cracked, your voice reduced to a rasp.

And yet, they were still dancing.

Satoru exhaled sharply. You were still there, forgotten, while life carried on just outside the door. The thought made him nauseous.

His fingers flexed against the paper. If I had been there... But he hadn’t been. No one had. That was the entire tragedy of it.

???, 1914

It is quiet.

No music. No voices.

Something has happened.

Why won’t anyone come?

Satoru’s breath slowed. You didn’t know. You had no idea that while you were trapped in that suffocating darkness, the world outside had shifted.

They left.

No one had opened the door. No one had checked. It wasn’t even malice at this point—it was worse. It was indifference.

His jaw clenched. You weren’t even aware that the world had moved on without you. You were just waiting. Waiting for a help that would never come.

July 28, 1914

Sirens.

War.

The halls are empty.

They have all gone home.

No one remembers I am here.

No one remembers at all.

Sirens. The first world war. The absence. His hand trembled. The emptiness of the halls. You had been forgotten amidst the chaos, the madness of the world falling apart. He hated the feeling of it. The helplessness. The way everything—everything—slipped away, leaving only that quiet, sickening silence. He muttered a curse under his breath, feeling a heavy weight in his stomach.

You had been alone. And it wasn’t just the physical isolation. It was the fact that no one even cared enough to remember you.

???, 1914

(Archivist - The ink is uneven, pressed too hard into the paper—her hand must have been shaking.)

I dreamed of Viscount Salvatore.

He pulled out a chair for me again.

Only this time, when I sat, he turned to me and said, "I see you."

I woke up crying.

(He will not remember me either.)

Viscount Salvatore was back in your dreams. And now, Satoru was reading about how you woke up crying. He shook his head slowly, his eyes closing briefly. Even in your lonely moments, he was there, haunting you—both a comfort and a torment. He could almost see it in his mind, the way Viscount Salvatore's distant gaze would have held some measure of regret, maybe even longing. But none of that would ever matter now.

“Damn it,” Satoru cursed under his breath. He didn't even know what he was mad at—himself, the Viscount, or fate. The whole damn situation. You didn’t deserve any of it.

???, 1914

There is no light.

I am afraid to sleep. Afraid I will wake up and it will still be dark. Afraid I won’t wake up at all.

I think I can hear something scratching. Or maybe it is just my own heartbeat.

Satoru shut his eyes for a brief second. That sentence—it was worse than the others. It wasn't just physical anymore. It wasn’t just being locked inside. It was the fear creeping in.

Afraid to sleep. Afraid to wake up and still be in the dark. Afraid to never wake up at all.

He felt sick. You weren’t even sure if you existed anymore. If you were real.

He let his head drop forward slightly, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. It was just a diary. Just words. So why did it feel like they were clawing at something inside of him?

???, 1914

I had a Mother?

Satoru’s eyes flicked back to the page, scanning the sentence again.

His stomach twisted.

You were unraveling.

That was what this was. Not just hunger. Not just thirst. Your mind was fraying at the edges, breaking apart piece by piece.

He shifted in his seat, suddenly uncomfortable, a strange, suffocating weight settling in his chest. You had been alone for so long that even memories were slipping away.

You were forgetting yourself.

???, 1914

I dreamed of the kittens.

They were hungry. So was I.

I woke up biting my sleeve.

Satoru closed his eyes again. That dream—it wasn’t just a memory. It was your body crying out, pulling at whatever fragments of warmth it could find.

And when you woke up, you were biting your sleeve.

His lips pressed into a tight line. He didn’t want to think about that. He didn’t want to picture you curled up in the dark, trying to trick yourself into feeling full.

He ran a hand through his hair, swallowing hard.

???, 1914

I have started whispering my own name.

I am afraid I will forget it.

Satoru blinked. The words blurred for a second before coming back into focus.

You were losing yourself. The last thing you had—the only thing left. Your own name. And even that was slipping.

His grip on the paper was too tight now. He forced himself to relax his fingers before he crumpled it.

You had been so, so alone.

???, 1914

I do not want to die like this.

I do not want to die in the dark.

Satoru’s shoulders tensed, but he forced himself to read it again.

You knew. By then, you knew.

It was no longer just fear. It was a final, quiet understanding.

Satoru’s hand came up, fingers pressing lightly against his temple. He had read countless things in his life—reports, records, confessions. But this?

This was someone—you—begging the universe for something it had already denied you.

???, 1914

Did he ever think of me?

Did Viscount Salvatore ever notice that I was gone?

(I am so, so cold.)

???, 1914

I can hear it raining.

There is no hunger anymore.

No thirst.

Just cold.

So, so cold.

???, ????

(Archivist - Final entry. Ink smeared, nearly unreadable.)

If someone finds this—Please—Please remember me.

Satoru didn’t move.

He stared at the words, his vision blurring for a moment before sharpening again.

His throat felt tight.

His grip on the page softened, and he slowly, carefully, set it down.

Satoru wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with this—this aching, gnawing thing in his chest. He didn’t have the words for it. But as he reached for the next stack of papers.

Newspaper Articles

(Archivist - Yellowed clippings, brittle at the edges. No one speaks of her anymore.)

DAUGHTER OF L/N FAMILY MISSING – UNIVERSITY REFUSES COMMENT (July 27, 1914)

Miss L/N, the only daughter of the esteemed L/N family, has been reported missing for over a week. The university has declined to comment, insisting that Miss L/N likely departed of her own volition.

Her parents, Mr. and Mrs. L/N, have offered a sizable reward for any information regarding her whereabouts.

SEARCH FOR MISSING HEIRESS ENDS IN TRAGEDY – PARENTS DECLARED DEAD (December 3, 1916)

After two years of relentless searching, Mr. and Mrs. L/N have perished under tragic circumstances. Their estate, heavily in debt from the investigation, is to be auctioned off.

Miss L/N’s disappearance remains unsolved.

RENOVATIONS UNCOVER HIDDEN CLOSET – HUMAN REMAINS FOUND (March 5, 1957)

Construction teams working on university renovations discovered a sealed-off closet in the west wing. Inside, they found skeletal remains, still clad in a deteriorated silk gown. A diary was found nearby, though much of its ink had faded with time. Officials report that the identity of the remains is unknown, as no records exist of any missing student matching the description.

No further investigation is planned.

THE DAILY GAZETTE

Est. 1896

Thursday, March 7, 1957

PRICE: 10 CENTS

MYSTERY OF THE FORGOTTEN GIRL: REMAINS DISCOVERED IN UNIVERSITY WALLS

Renovation Workers Uncover Skeleton, Raising Chilling Questions About the Past

By George L. Whitmore

SHIZUKA CITY—A routine renovation at one of the country’s most prestigious universities took a macabre turn last week when construction workers stumbled upon a hidden closet sealed within the walls of the East Wing. Inside, they found the skeletal remains of a young woman, her body curled as if she had simply lain down and never risen again. The discovery has sent shockwaves through the academic community, raising unsettling questions about how she came to be there—and why no one ever looked for her.

The identity of the deceased remains unknown. No records exist of a missing student from the time period estimated by forensic specialists—likely the early 20th century. But one thing is certain: she was left there. Forgotten.

A Name Erased

The East Wing, once a grand structure funded by old money and aristocratic influence, had been largely abandoned for decades before renovations began last fall. The university, now bearing the Gojo family name, was once under the patronage of another dynasty—one that, curiously, has all but vanished from historical record.

Researchers digging into archived documents found faint traces of a once-powerful benefactor: the L/N family. According to a 1907 university registry, the L/Ns were among the wealthiest patrons of the institution. From Arms dealings, their contributions were responsible for much of its early expansion. And yet, no descendants remain. No estate. No legacy.

A mere decade after their peak, the family seems to have disappeared altogether. Their name erased. Their wealth scattered.

And now, this girl—the girl in the closet.

A Harmless Prank Gone Horribly Wrong?

The discovery has sparked whispered theories among university staff and alumni. Some recall long-forgotten stories, rumors passed down like ghost stories in dormitory halls. Stories of a girl. Beautiful. Intelligent. Kind. Too kind.

“She was perfect, too perfect,” said one retired professor, who wished to remain anonymous. “People resented her for it. The way the faculty admired her. The way she carried herself. There were whispers, of course—ugly, jealous things. But back then, the school was different. There were rules about what could and could not be spoken aloud.”

While no official reports exist of bullying, former students who attended in the early 1900s recall the cruel pranks that were common among the elite circles of the time. Stolen books. Torn dresses. Whispered mockeries disguised as etiquette lessons.

Then there was the incident at a party—a party that took place just before the world changed forever.

“She went missing that night,” said another source, a woman in her seventies who had attended the university in the years following the First World War. “There were rumors, of course. But no one ever spoke of it directly. And then the war came, and everything was forgotten. Just like that.”

What started as a childish prank—locking a girl in a storage closet—became something else entirely when the world was plunged into chaos. Sirens screamed. Students fled. The university shut its doors. And no one, not a single soul, remembered to let her out.

A Legacy Stolen by Time

The timing is chilling. The L/N family vanished not long after. Their once-glorious estate burned to the ground under mysterious circumstances. With their wealth depleted in a desperate search for their missing daughter, they faded into obscurity, lost to history. Meanwhile, the university found a new patron—one with deeper pockets, stronger influence. The Gojo family.

“Nothing stays empty for long,” remarked historian Dr. Henry Carrington. “Power abhors a vacuum. One name disappears; another takes its place. That’s how history works. The question is whether it was simply fate... or something more deliberate.”

What Comes Next?

For now, the remains of the forgotten girl lie in the care of forensic specialists, who will attempt to identify her and, perhaps, grant her the dignity she was denied in life. The university has yet to release an official statement, though sources indicate there are plans to memorialize the discovery.

Still, the air remains heavy with unspoken truths. A legacy buried beneath floorboards. A name erased. A girl left to die in the dark, her existence fading from memory even as the institution she was meant to inherit flourished without her.

And now, decades later, she has returned. Not as a scholar. Not as an heir.

But as a skeleton in the walls of a university that no longer remembers her name.

Satoru understood what had happened.

---

1914

The first time they locked you inside, it was supposed to be a joke. A harmless prank.

“You’ll cry and beg to be let out,” one of them whispered, a cruel giggle curling around her words as she hid her smirk behind a lace-gloved hand. “Let’s see if Miss Perfect is still so polite in the dark.”

You cried.

But you didn’t beg.

Not that night.

Not yet.

It didn’t surprise you. You’d always known people resented you. You were the only child of the L/N family—their legacy was carved in the very stone of the university. Wealth, power, influence, all wrapped in a name that commanded respect. Your family had funded these halls, shaped them. Built them.

And you were meant to carry that weight forward, to live up to expectations that came with being the heir of such a name. You studied hard, spoke softly, helped others without a second thought. You tried to meet the world with grace.

But you had made one mistake.

You were kind. Too kind.

You didn’t wear your last name like armor. You didn’t command respect with a gaze sharp enough to cut or a voice cold enough to freeze. You didn’t move like royalty among commoners. You spoke gently, smiled too much, helped without expecting anything in return.

And that, apparently, was enough to make them hate you.

They called you perfect. A fraud wrapped in silk and sweetness. A girl born to wealth, yet untouched by cruelty. It made them sick to their stomachs. They told themselves your kindness was a mask. That you were pretending. That behind your soft smile, you looked down on them.

The whispers slithered through the hallways, filled every corner of every dormitory, echoed between the benches in lecture halls. “She must think she’s better than us.” The rumors crept, fed by jealousy and disdain, each one sinking deeper, until they made it their mission to tear you down.

It started small. Stolen assignments. Ink spilled all over your uniform. Books knocked from your arms as you passed, their laughter trailing behind you like a shadow.

But then the pranks grew worse. Razor blades slipped into the lining of your bag, waiting to slice your fingers. Your tea, laced with ink, stained your lips and tongue black for hours. Dead rats left in your desk drawers, bloated and stinking, their decaying bodies a cruel reminder of their hatred.

You had friends—or you thought you did. But when you looked to them, their smiles faltered. They said nothing. Did nothing. They looked away.

So, you endured it all alone.

Then came the night of the party.

You hadn’t wanted to go. But one of the girls, the one you still foolishly believed to be a friend, begged you. She said everyone wanted to start over, that they regretted their childish jealousy and were ready to put it behind them.

You wanted to believe it. You wanted so badly to believe that people could change, that cruelty wasn’t the default. You wanted to believe that if you just endured long enough, they would see you for who you really were.

So, you went.

The music was loud, thick with the beat of drums and the pulse of electric guitars. The air was heavy with smoke, alcohol, and the scent of youth gone wild. Laughter rang out, spinning around you as people twirled under lantern light. For the first time in years, you thought maybe—just maybe—you weren’t so alone after all.

But then, hands grabbed you.

They pulled you, dragged you away from the laughter, from the light, down the dim hallway that felt colder with every step. You struggled, but there were too many of them. Nails dug into your skin, and their breath reeked of whiskey and sweat.

They laughed. “Let’s see how perfect you are now.”

The closet was small. Cramped. A tiny, forgotten storage room in the corner of the building, filled with old books and dusty supplies. They shoved you inside.

You stumbled, tripping over the rough wooden floor, your hands scraping against the splintered walls. The door slammed behind you, the sound of the lock clicking echoing in your chest. You barely had time to press yourself against the door before it shut you in complete darkness.

“Let’s see how sweet you are after this,” they jeered, and then they were gone.

At first, you thought it was a joke. Any second now, they would open the door, laughing, saying it was just a prank. The music outside was still loud. The sounds of celebration filled your ears, muffling your screams and your frantic banging against the door.

They would let you out.

Of course, they would.

Wouldn’t they?

You banged harder. Screamed louder.

But no one came.

Minutes passed. Then an hour. Two.

Your fists were raw, your throat burned from the screams, but still, nothing.

At some point, you must have fallen asleep. When you woke up, your mouth was dry, your body stiff and cold. You were still in your party dress, but your shoes were gone. You had lost them somewhere, in the chaos of being dragged.

You banged again. Screamed louder.

Nothing.

More hours passed. Maybe a day. You tried to count the time, but it blurred. The darkness stole all sense of it.

Then, one night—though you couldn’t tell if it was day or night anymore—something changed.

The university went silent.

The once-bustling halls were empty. The voices, the laughter, the music—gone.

In the distance, you heard sirens. A sound that felt like the last thread of the world unraveling.

The world was at war.

Overnight, everything collapsed. Students fled. Professors disappeared. The university shut down.

And no one, not a single soul, remembered that you were still locked in that closet.

The hunger was unbearable at first. You pressed your hands against your stomach as it twisted in agony, but after a while, even hunger faded into the background. The thirst, however, never left. Your lips cracked, your throat burned, your vision swam.

But you were too weak to scream now.

At some point, you stopped feeling anything at all.

No one remembered the girl in the closet.

Days passed. Maybe weeks. Maybe months.

But in the end, it didn’t matter.

There was only silence.

When they finally reopened that part of the university—years, maybe decades later, during renovations—the workers found a hidden closet behind the walls. They found a skeleton, still curled on the floor, clutching the remains of a tattered dress.

No one knew who you were. Your records were gone.

The L/N family was erased from history.

Your parents had searched for you. Desperately. They spent every penny, called in every favor, tore the world apart looking for their only child.

But war doesn’t care for grieving parents.

They died before they could uncover the truth. Your home burned. And with them, the name that had once shaped this university disappeared from the records.

The buildings once funded by your family were renamed. The university you were supposed to inherit now bore another family’s name.

The Gojo family.

And you?

You had simply ceased to exist.

---

Present Day

Satoru stared at the newspaper article in his hands, the words blurring as his chest tightened. It felt like someone had reached into him, squeezing the air from his lungs until he couldn’t breathe. His vision wavered, the paper in his hands turning into nothing more than a smear of ink and empty noise.

He had spent the entire night digging. Searching. Prying through the layers of forgotten history no one had cared to remember. And now—

Now, he wished he hadn’t.

His chest ached. His stomach churned with the weight of it. He hadn’t expected to find this. He hadn’t expected to feel the crushing blow of reality, the terrible, suffocating guilt that twisted through him like a knife.

You had smiled at him.

how your fingers had trembled in his hands, how your wide, nervous eyes had held so much uncertainty, yet a quiet hope. And when you kissed him, your lips soft and warm against his, it had been the kind of kiss that felt like it was long overdue—like you’d been waiting a lifetime for someone to touch you.

And now he knew why.

You had been waiting for a hundred years.

A hundred years of silence. A hundred years of darkness. A hundred years of loneliness so deep it suffocated you, a cruel weight on your chest that no one had ever bothered to lift.

He thought about the closet. The cramped, suffocating space. The darkness. The silence that stretched on for years, unbroken. The pain of realizing no one was coming, no one cared.

The students who had shoved you inside. The laughter as they walked away, their voices fading into the distance while you were left to rot alone in a forgotten corner of the university. The friends who had seen it happen and did nothing. The ones who had turned their backs when you needed them most.

Satoru’s chest tightened further, a sharp pain stabbing through him. His teeth ground together, his jaw clenched so tight it felt like it might crack. His hands shook, trembled violently, as if they could somehow undo what had been done, erase the horror of it all.

He wanted to break something. Throw something. Tear through this cursed world and go back, back to that night, back to when he could’ve stopped it. To rip open that damn door and pull you into his arms, to tell you that you were never alone. That he would have fought for you. That someone—anyone—should have fought for you.

But it was too late.

One hundred years too late.

He sucked in a shaky breath, but it didn’t help. His lungs felt tight, and his throat closed up, like something was blocking the air. His hands shook as he traced the edges of the photograph in front of him. A group of students stood there, stiff and formal, their faces solemn in that black-and-white world of the early 1900s. They were so... distant. Detached. Like they were living in a world completely untouched by joy, by life.

And then there was you.

At the edge of the group, standing out like a ghost, yet so very present. Your soft features. Your gentle eyes. Your delicate, hopeful expression that somehow still managed to look so... lonely.

Beneath the photo, in delicate cursive handwriting, the caption read: "Class of 1914. Including Miss Y/N, the only child  of  the  L/N  family—our university’s first founding patrons."

Satoru’s breath caught in his throat.

Your name should have been everywhere. It should have been on every plaque, in every building, carved into the very bones of this place. Your family had built this school, laid its foundations with their blood and wealth. You had been the heir, the future.

And yet—

No one remembered your name.

Satoru’s pulse pounded in his ears, a frantic rhythm that seemed to echo in his chest. His fingers curled into the paper, the fragile edges crinkling beneath his grip. His heart hammered in his chest as he clenched his jaw, fighting back the urge to scream.

This school, his school, had been built on the L/N family name. Your family’s legacy was supposed to be immortal, etched into the very structure of the place. And yet, all he saw now were the names of the Gojo family—his family—everywhere. The library. The dormitories. The lecture halls.

Your family had been erased.

A sickening wave of anger washed over him. He wanted to scream, to tear the world apart. He wanted to shove the truth in their faces, shove it into the faces of everyone who’d forgotten you. Everyone who had abandoned you. But more than anything—he wanted to go back.

He wanted to go back to that night.

He wanted to break down that fucking door, drag you into the light, and tell you, "You weren’t alone. You’ll never be alone again."

But he couldn’t.

It was too late.

One hundred years too late.

He squeezed his eyes shut, but the image of your face lingered. You, the girl who had been forgotten. The girl whose name had been erased from history. The girl who had waited for someone to remember, to fight for her. The girl who had suffered alone.

No one remembered you now.

But Satoru did.

A/N: Did you get who Viscount Salvatore was?

Next Chapter 3 - (Tumblr/Ao3)

All Works Masterlist

[ingravinoveritas]

GT is really trying to make the Baftas about her on her Ig huh

(Grouping together for ease of responding.)

I've seen several mentions/had folks talking to me in DM about Georgia's Insta stories earlier today. I'll put some screenshots here so we can discuss:

I feel like this all starts with yesterday, so let's quickly recap: Last night, David appeared on the One Show. Georgia came along and watched the show backstage, and posted an Insta story of him on the TV screen, in color. She posted nothing related to David and Valentine's Day, despite having made a post about him every year for the last several years. Today, she posted about BAFTA preparations. Two photos of David, both again in black-and-white, and two photos in color, one of which featured her calling a bag of skincare products "my valentine."

The first thing that comes to mind is the songs that are used on some of these stories. For three out of four, the songs are upbeat and happy, which seems to contrast starkly with the almost somber tone of these pictures. It reminds me of the song "I Am A Rock" by Simon & Garfunkel, where the music is cheerful and up tempo, yet the lyrics are much darker and full of pain/sadness. So if you're only looking at what's on the surface, it causes you to miss what is going on underneath.

It would also be very easy to overlook that these stories are all related to an awards show--that David is hosting for a second time, no less. Because there isn't really anything celebratory about any of these. Just looking at the captions/tags, Georgia seems to be showing more enthusiasm for receiving free skincare products than for anything else. And in both pictures of David, he is doing something else/just trying to exist while she photographs him. In the picture in the car, he seems to be looking at the National Theatre, and despite sitting next to her, it feels like he is about a million miles away--that same feeling of preoccupation/tiredness that we saw last night.

And then there's the last piece of these stories, which is that the photos of David are once again in black-and-white. I've said this previously, but we are now long past the point where the B&W makes sense for legal reasons or anything having to do with the show. Let's also look at what's happened over the last few weeks: The fan taking a picture with David in the airport, the photo of David behind the bar in a pub in Glasgow this week, and then the full-on hair reveal last night, all in color. Contrast that with the video of David dancing to Sabrina Carpenter, the WOS acceptance speech, and now these photos, all in black and white, and all taken/filmed by Georgia.

Looking at everything together, I think David never cared about hiding his hair, while Georgia and Anna knew/know the fans have wanted to see dyed hair, and have viewed their Instagrams as a source for pictures. So holding the promise and possibility of seeing that is a guaranteed way to keep getting clicks and drive engagement, especially given how many fans took screenshots and got excited every time Georgia or Anna added a new story. What became a joke at the fandom's expense has now backfired, and I truly don't think there was ever going to be a "big reveal" or that either of them intended to post a picture of the dyed hair in color.

To be clear, there is no part of me that takes joy in any of this, and I do not wish for either David or Georgia to be unhappy or miserable. But I can't dismiss the almost painful gut reaction I had to these Insta stories--how "off" the vibes are, and how this all seems to be about much more than just hair dye.

What will happen at the BAFTAs tomorrow is still anyone's guess--Michael is not listed as a special guest or as a presenter (though he did present an award last year, as I recall), so who knows if he will even be there--but I am honestly hoping that things will be okay. For everyone's sake...

[thatonegreyghost]

Jayce is a sap. But everybody knows that. It's not a shock to see Jayce getting flowers and chocolates during the week leading up to St. Valentine's feast day, but no one questions it much. Jayce is a handsome man, it makes sense that he'd be picking up some nice wine and scented candles and massage oil. The ladies giggle and gossip, wondering and whispering about who his "secret" lover could be. Everybody talks about how lucky that person must be, to be spoiled by the genius who changed Piltover.

No one expects Viktor to be a sap.

He's snippy and irritable, sarcastic and sharp, short-tempered and cold-hearted. So the first year Jayce is spotted buying chocolates, everyone is shocked to see Viktor in the corner of the shop, tucking a rather pricey box under his arm before he picks out a stunning bouquet. and again the next year. And the next. Once is happenstance, twice is coincidence, three times a pattern. By the beginning of the fourth year, one of Ximena Talis' friends has enough courage to approach and ask Viktor who he was buying all that for. Viktor laughs in her face, and shuffles off to pay for the flowers he's acquired.

The next year, Viktor is nowhere to be seen, but Jayce is found buying an entire bag of rose petals and a horrendously overpriced bath bomb. This time, it's a jealous young lady asking invasive question about who that's meant for. "It's for my partner!" Jayce replies with a confused smile.

He refuses to elaborate further.

The sixth year, something strange happens. Plenty of talk has been going around already about the boys' strange habits, but when they're spotted at dinner together, at a rather well-known if lower class restaurant, on the day itself, ...well, the rumor mill doesn't spin itself. The story is halfway around the city by noon the next day. For both those young men to lose their partners, at the same time, on Valentine's day no less! It's nothing short of a tragedy.

Mel mentions it in passing, cooing softly about how disappointed Jayce must have felt.

"What are you talking about?" Jayce laughs. "I had dinner with my partner at a restaurant we both love, and then we got to cuddle and listen to a new record together. I had the best night!"

Mel puts two and two together and immediately dismisses the conclusion. It's none of her business anyway.

The next year, Jayce is found at a gala thrown at the Kiramann estate. Viktor is also there, glaring over the edge of a champagne glass any time Jayce is not by his side. As the night wears on, people lose track of Viktor, and then they lose track of Jayce.

It's Caitlyn who finds them on the balcony, tipsy and laughing at each other, Viktor holding a bouquet of stunning Noxian roses in his hand as he cups Jayce's cheek, kissing them slowly.

"What the fuck?" Caitlyn shrieks, because she isn't above swearing when her fucking older brother gets caught kissing his lab partner.

"Cait, some privacy?" Jayce huffs.

"Language." Viktor quips.

"You two are fucking making out!" Caitlyn shouts.

The whole of the gala has stopped to stare out the doors at the commotion. Whispers fly around the room, and the gossips tell their friends about what they can hear from their perfect spot next to the door.

"Cait, will you chill? We weren't doing anything gross, Vik's just not a huge fan of PDA." Jayce protests. "I would still rather be at home. Your mother had to host the stupid gala on Valentine's?" Viktor concurs. "Since when is this a thing?" Caitlyn yelps. "Since, like, 7 years ago? Cait, you were there."

"Honestly, Miss Kiramann. You would think you would know better." The gossips giggle amongst themselves, but more and more young ladies turn away with crestfallen faces. 7 years of romance is nothing to sneeze at, after all, and to think all this time, Jayce Talis has been giving his heart to someone- a man, no less! "You've been dating this whole time?" Caitlyn groans. "Why didn't you say anything?" "Well, um, actually..." "We're married." Viktor laughs. "And we did tell you. You just didn't listen." The gala goes dead silent. All whispers cease, and even the gossips go still. Did he just- there's no way he meant- he couldn't have possibly just said- "MARRIED?" Caitlyn screeches. "See, this is why we didn't tell you." Jayce snarks.

Unplanned Valentine's Day art because I cannot stop drawing them 🥰

[applecidershauna]

Inaccuracy in Yellowjackets – Lazy Writing or Intentional?

Lately, I’ve seen so many posts complaining about inaccuracies in Yellowjackets—more than ever. Why do they keep adding characters? How did they build their little village after losing everything in the cabin fire? What were the lanterns even made of?

Personally, I can live with minor mistakes or unexplained things if they move the plot forward or add something cool, but I’ve seen people justify them with another theory: that the teen timeline is unreliable because the characters have repressed or forgotten details about their time in the wilderness. This usually comes up when people talk about background girls suddenly appearing or getting bigger roles.

And while I get why that’s an interesting theory… I don’t buy it. Let’s talk!

Season 3: The Village and the Outfits

One big issue people seem to have this season is the matching outfits and hoods the girls are wearing. But honestly? I don’t think that’s unrealistic at all. You’re telling me none of them knew how to sew? Please. We already know they have assigned roles—some cook, some hunt, so why wouldn’t someone be in charge of making clothes? They clearly share skills and teach each other, too.

As for the materials, I’ve seen theories that the hoods are made from plane seats, and yeah, I totally see it! Super smart catch. Also, people forget how much time these girls have. Like, they are out there bored. Making clothes is probably something they enjoy or at least a way to stay busy.

The village itself? Honestly looks pretty realistic to me. Those stick-and-grass shelters make sense, and building shelter is literally a basic human survival instinct. Considering Tai was mentioned as being involved, it makes even more sense.

The lanterns from the solstice scene? If you look closely, you can see writing on them. So they could be made from schoolbooks, but I think they were probably from plane manuals or something like that. Oh, and the ducks and rabbits? Adorable. Completely believable. Moving on.

The “Suddenly Appearing” Background Girls

I’m not getting into recasting—that’s not intentional, that’s just what happens when actors have scheduling conflicts. But let’s be real: no one is actually appearing out of nowhere. People have already pointed out that during the funeral scene in the pilot, there were way more survivors than the ones we focused on. That’s just how background characters work. If they’re not important yet or don’t have lines, they won’t always be shown. Simple as that.

Some girls just weren’t as central at first and became more important over time—like Melissa, for example. Shauna even says in S3E2 that she didn’t realize Melissa had a personality, which basically confirms that she (and probably the other core girls) weren’t paying attention to everyone equally. They weren’t all besties from day one.

And let’s not forget: Yellowjackets, like every other show, has main characters—Natalie, Shauna, Lottie, Misty, Tai, and Van. The story is built around them. That’s just how TV works.

The “Unreliable Memory” Theory

The biggest reason I don’t buy the “trauma repressed memory” theory? I have zero reason to believe that what I’m seeing on screen isn’t the truth.

Yes, the teen timeline is often tied to the adult timeline, but the adults aren’t narrating it. Not all the time, at least. Sure, I believe they’ve repressed things or forgotten details, but this is still a TV show. If something happened, we see it. If the show wanted us to question the reality of what went down, they wouldn’t have shown things like Doomcoming, eating Jackie, or Javi’s death so directly.

And don’t even get me started on the “supernatural” events—the bear, Laura Lee’s plane crash, all of it. If anyone wants to talk about that, I will go off, but for now, I fully believe it’s all real.

[cloversnstrawberries]

Since reader is missing in the current timeline how does pepaw react to this?

intro post | masterlist

peepaw is beside himself, honestly :( in my head, there's this sort of deity/higher power that I picture as this ethereal child; they like to take people who are having rough times and put them in 'better places', whether that be in a different world or a different time.

Kind of like taking a little cat from one dollhouse and moving it into another, because you think they fit it better-- even if they didn't come with that set/brand. However, they don't exactly fill the holes they leave behind in times/dimensions by doing so.

That's why your world's Everett doesn't remember you, because the higher power placed you in a pseudo-alternate reality. Nothing has really changed, the dimension is almost exactly like yours save for some key differences involving your specific existence-- but it prevents time from folding in on itself.

Anyways, that's how i make sense of it, since time travelling stories have always hurt my head to think about otherwise </3 All this to say, peepaw Everett has no clue where you could be. He never met a strange person in his backyard when he was 17, because you didn't exactly time travel as much as you dimension hopped-- kind of.

He was 16 in 1947, so he's in his early-to-mid 90s in current day. He can't do much but fret and keep checking up on the rest of your family, because literally no one knows what could've happened.

You however, don't know that you kind of dimension hopped. You've sent yourself into spirals before, hoping that your grandpa would know what was actually going on-- it was a paradox, in your mind.

Your whole family is looking for you, but your grandpa is by far the hardest hit by your disappearance-- because he knows first hand how cruel people can be.

How much enjoyment could be taken by harming someone like his favorite grandchild, as caring and well-meaning as you could be.

[emsylcatac]

is ML awakening good/worth a watch? I never watched it because ppl kept putting down the show to prop it up as being better at the time so I didnt want any weird biases to cloud my judgment. On the other hand, I remember ppl criticized s5's finale for not having adrien being relevant but then praise the movie's finale despite it not having marinette be relevant (correct me if im wrong, but sounds like things wouldve solved faster if she gave up and didnt believe in herself )

Hey! 😊

I think it depends on your tastes: if you really love the show and the characters, you probably won't like the movie. But if you're salty about the show (especially if you've been salty about it for a long time) then from what I've seen, people tend to like the movie more. Though you might also end up liking both the movie and the show, recognize each their flaws and qualities and have a fun time without feeling like you have to compare them!

So my advice would be :

If you love the show and the characters (and especially Adrien's characterization in the show), I don't think watching the movie is really worth it. But if you have friends who love the show to watch the movie with, it can be a fun experience to watch it together and laugh at it.

If you like the show but aren't necessarily too invested in it or even if you're invested in the show but are a casual watcher who doesn't analyze everything, I'd say you can give the movie a try and you'll probably have a good time at best, or quickly forget about it at worst.

If you are salty about the show and were especially disappointed in the S5 finale (or more about Adrien's non-involvement in the finale fight) and are looking for more Chat Noir / Hawkmoth confrontation than what we got in the show's finale, and if you aren't too attached to Adrien's characterization in the show, I would say you'll probably love the movie and should watch it!

I'll share more of my personal opinions / experience undercut that also answer some of your questions about the finale regarding Marinette and Adrien's involvement without spoiling the plot too much, but beware because I'm not a fan of the movie so it's up to you to read my biased opinion 😆

So even though I was disappointed in a few things in S5 (namely Adrinette dating pre-reveal), I would take that over the movie any day 😅 The characters were ooc to me (especially Adrien, I really didn't like their take on him), the writing is pretty basic imo, the musics aren't "bad" per say but they're cheesy and not at all memorable (and they sing wayyy too much imo - take a Disney and make it worse in terms of musical interruptions). And you're right, the movie finale has more Adrien in it - in fact, it feels a lot like fanservice in terms of Hawkmoth & Chat Noir type of content, but to the expanse of their main character: Marinette. Which is kinda disappointing for a story with a female lead imo. So to me, the movie finale wasn't satisfying to watch - more frustrating than anything because of the conclusion of it (I don't wanna spoil it in case you decide to watch it). We also don't really get to see the characters develop their relationship a lot (which makes sense because you can't have the same development in 1h45 than in 5 seasons), so it also doesn't help in making the finale satisfying to me. And I will say those who were satisfied probably were because they have seen the characters interact in the show and are watching the movie as if Adrien & Marinette had the same development, which they don't have.

I've watched the movie 2 times, one with the ML French culture gang at the theatre and we honestly had a great time laughing at how bad we thought the movie was, but our opinions were the same. And another time with @yeet-noir & @amimons because they hadn't watched it and wanted to see what I meant when I said it was bad. Again, we had fun making fun of it but they also didn't like the movie and I think we were overall frustrated with the fact that we think that it's not depicting a good image of the show, especially for people who only watched the movie (and we were frustrated at people saying it's tooooons better than the show hahahaha). But that's our personal opinion, and someone who loved the movie would tell you a different story for sure!

I hope it helped, sorry I'm def not the best person to be neutral because of my opinion on the movie hahaha 😅 but no matter what you decide to do and how you personally end up feeling about the movie, the most important is that it brings you enjoyment 😄

[miyagi-hokarate]

Random assortment of season 6 part 3 and series finale thoughts:

It's actually quite hard to formulate articulate thoughts when the overwhelming majority while watching the finale was negativity and disgust

BECAUSE OHHHHH MAN, WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT....

I don't even know where to begin

Okay I guess I could start from the beginning. WHY is Kwon's death treated so LAX.

I can't be the only person who thought that Kwon's death and the legal/emotional ramifications of that (or lack thereof) felt so lackluster??? A KID DIED. EVEN BESIDES THE FACT THERE'D BE AN INVESTIGATION ABOUT THIS (because we all know Cobra Kai would ignore a sense of realism if it meant getting to the badass part), DOZENS OF PEOPLE SAW A DEAD PERSON WITH THEIR OWN EYES. I could believe the Sekai Taikai breeding such a competition-hungry crowd that they're cannibalizing themself into turning back towards their fatal "darker" years, but it's sickening seeing these characters want to bounce back without so much as a second thought about what killed Kwon, because it wasn't just a blade. IT WASN'T JUST THE BLADE. WHY DO THEY NOT CARE. Also fuck Mitch for eating nachos during Kwon's moment of silence.

I'm sorry everybody who ships them I truly am but I just cannot deny the fact that I am just anti Jarmen. It's such a stupid thing and I hate that it's come to this point, but genuinely every moment Johnny and Carmen are smiling and being a family made me feel the same sick feeling as watching The Stepford Wives. I just caaaaan't watch Johnny and Carmen be so fucking happy like it's a trad life progaganda campaign. The way Johnny and Carmen barely feel like actual, nuanced characters — ESPECIALLY CARMEN, who gets the short end of the fucking stick when it comes to characterization and Actual Depth — to then be representative of this heteronormative, nuclear family ideal picture perfect bullshit just ruins the idea of them two. This especially hurts Carmen, who's basically stuck in storage until she could be turned on to become Miguel's Mom, Johnny's Girlfriend, Johnny's Wife, the fucking Jarmen baby's MOM AGAIN. Carmen's identity as a character is chained to either her son or her main character love interest, and it's sickening watching the Jarmen scenes celebrate this pastiche of domestic bliss.

I hated the proposal. I don't even have anything else to say about this. I just hated the proposal so much.

The American Exceptionalism present in this part actually made this hard to watch Jesus Christ. There's nothing more awful than watching a sequel television show to a movie trilogy that criticized American militarism and imperialism to now having a blond blue-eyed man barking like a drill sargeant to his child soldiers in a karate tournament with a kill count to "show those international assholes".

This show loooooooves using women to fuel the storylines for men and cutting corners by not even showing the female character's perspective or role just to make it all about the man Kumiko Girl I Am So Sorry.

When I said I wanted Chozen to get all the bitches, this is not what I meant. Chozen Toguchi, you remain one of the weirdest character decays in modern television, and I wish everyone who got you there dead.

I like the Samtory scene :) I'm not gonna pretend and act like Sam and Tory being girl best friends wasn't the thing that made me smile the hardest. WITH THAT BEING SAID, I'm conflicted about my thoughts on Sam's storyline and ESPECIALLY TORY'S. With at least Sam, she's getting the opportunity to explore her future that isn't so tied with karate or Daniel, which is good for her! SURE, it would have been nice to see her compete, but honestly the fact that Sam had a the option to leave karate and did so on her volition because of her values feels mote satisfying to me, compared to Tory and Robby. Regarding Tory, I really wish I could be happy for how her story ends — but, like Robby, there's just something aggravating seeing that karate is made out to be her only option pass high school. And in a way, because we never got anything substantial about Tory's interests and passion outside of karate, it is??? Nevermind that karate — no, COBRA KAI — had gotten Tory into so much trouble, made her into a child soldier for a cult, weaponized her grief and anger, etc. I don't know what a "good" end to Tory's story should have looked like, but it's hard to say for me if this was it.

SPEAKING OF, a character I definitely feel like their story was unsatisfying as fuck was ROBBY. At least Sam had the OPTION to leave. Robby was MADE. AND SURE, HE GETS THE SPONSORSHIP BULLSHIT TOO, BUT WHAT A STUPID DEUS EX MACHINA. And that whole thing about Robby being happy he doesn't need to win, because he has his Family? With Johnny? Shut the fuck up.

Robby coming in to save the day by conveniently daying I wuv you~ to Tory. Fuck you all I hate this fucking show.

ON A HAPPIER NOTE, Miguel's feels more fleshed out and satisfying as a whole. Mayyybe the flashbacks did hit 🙄🙄🙄 Miguel's progression, while it's had its stalls, remains one of the stronger parts of Cobra Kai as a whole, and Miguel's journey culminating into proving himself against Axel and going to his dream college, having grown so much as a person with what he's learned in karate and in life, did pull on my heartstrings. And regardless of everything else, Miguel and Johnny's relationship felt strong from the start and until the end.

You knowwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww I was fucking obsessed with the archival footage you knowwwwwwwww

Ralph Macchio and William Zabka were acting their asses off in scenes that otherwise pissed me off

AND YOU KNOW WHAT, KREESE AND SILVER'S DEATH PISSED ME OFF TOO. I can't even formulate the reasons why I find their deaths so unsatisfying, but MAN WHAT THE HELL. The closest I could approximate is just the utter bullshit that is Kreese's redemption arc — NOW is when he realizes the harm he's caused? NOW is when he's going back and apologizing to the people he's hurt? NOW Kreese is the one to do the noble act of killing himself and Silver? Come the fuck ON. I don't even think I'm mad that it's come so late, but that it feels so rushed and contrived to get Kreese and Silver out of the story as quick as possible (WHICH IS A HUGE ISSUE FOR COBRA KAI AS A WHOLE). AND THE FACT THAT NOBODY REALLY REFLECTS UPON THEM MISSING? I SUPPOSE THE OTHER CHARACTERS SORT OF KNEW, BUT NO THOUGHTS? NOTHING? THESE CHARACTERS THAT HAVE MANIPULATED SO MANY, THAT HAVE HURT AND MADE OTHERS HURT, THAT KEEP THESE CHARACTERS IN A CAGE OF TRAUMA — JUST FUCK OFF AND DIE??

AND YOU KNOW WHAT, JOHNNY BREAKING DOWN TO KREESE WHAT HE DID WRONG ALSO MADE ME MAD. Because you know what, Kreese WAS there to be Johnny's role model and he DID teach him strength. And Kreese abused Johnny, poisoned his mind, and want to kill and keep killing him. And it's all connected and the same fist that represented strength is the same fist that beat Johnny down. And I'm so mad that Johnny is angry at Kreese for abandoning him when Kreese had been choking Johnny on a leash, dragging him to throw him into the street. He abandoned you and suffocated you. What the FUCK, Cobra Kai

Idk man I wish I could be happy about Johnny bringing back Cobra Kai. But this EXACT issue has been like this from the beginning, that it's not specifically the NAME or whether it's Johnny or Kreese or Silver or Kim teaching. It's the fact that Cobra Kai, since its inception, is a product of a jingoistic, militaristic fighting technique FROM A US VETERAN that breeds violence and cruelty for the sake of domination and name. I know Cobra Kai (the show) has tried to distance the dojo into being more connected to Korean Tang Soo Do, but it's so fucking frustrating that they'll ignore the dojo's roots in the American Military and specifically American imperialism of Kreese's direct influence because they don't think it's a bad thing!!! I can say so much about how I dislike the the attempt to distance Cobra Kai from Kreese, but ohhh my godddd

Daniel and Johnny 🙃 Mr. Miyagi 🙃🙃

First of all, the AI was ugly as shit

Second of all, the necklace arc coming down to a misunderstanding is aggravating but whatever an immigrant man framed as a criminal sure fucking whatever man. The fact that it's taken this show six seasons to mention the injustice Japanese-Americans suffered through by the American government detaining them under racist suspicion is fucking awful.

Third of all, in spite of Cobra Kai and Daniel carrying the legacy of Mr. Miyagi after his (and Pat Morita's) death, Mr. Miyagi does not feel like an echoed presence in the show. Perhaps this would have been too much to ask for, considering Johnny is the main character, and Cobra Kai needs to have its own identity outside of The Karate Kid in some way. However, the lack of presence (and I don't mean physical) of Mr. Miyagi to me is deafening in its silence. Of all the characters coming back to the Cobra Kai, the one that feels most absent is Mr. Miyagi. How does that absence make its place in the narrative? Do viewers feel his absence? Are they looking back to what Mr. Miyagi taught? Are they missing on his presence? Can they feel what they missed? I don't know if this makes sense, but I'm just thinking about the last of Cobra Kai and their defining legacy on the people who've watched, and those who could have gone through all of Cobra Kai and not cared about Mr. Miyagi. Ughghhggg.

Daniel saying "Cobra Kai never dies" makes me wish I die

Daniel this whole fucking part is just a mess. That dream??? Him manifesting as Kreese??? I can't even express how tired I was of this show. Don't even started on the fucking Cobra Kai gi.

There's so much I hadn't covered: half the cast being missing because Cobra Kai doesn't know how to stop making too many characters to have satisfying presences, the difference in depth between Axel and Zara, the way this show completely bypasses almost all its Asian characters, Chozen getting with Kim are you kidding me, All of Kim really, Laura's grave having the most egregious continuity error I've seen, Binary Boyfriends, etc., but I'm so tired and I hate this show.

It's been a shitshow. I love you all. Goodnight.