#but only because legit she has to work on christmas

[ixiot-ghostrebel]

Hi! Finally able to request. I really enjoy your work!

Can you try a creator who use their power through music (like singing or playing instrument) in an Imposter-AU with the Archons? (The voice of the Creator is heard as the sound of nature like wind or water, though. No one knows their true voice)

Thank you so much.

🎄Merry Christmas🎄

Welcome @peaceindreams ! I'll see what I can do with Your Request :D

Also VERY LATE Merry Christmas—I'm writing this a few days after Christmas.

Archons Realize Reader is a MUSICIAN WOAHHH

To be honest, you were kinda just minding your business when the Archons found you and your ever-singing glory.

They SHOOKETH so good job! Let's nitpick at their reactions! >:)

(Warning: Might be OOC!)

Venti

Wisp boi HELLA SHOOKETH. But he also happi boi so good job!

Wants to hear your voice sing and not the wind just continues to gently smack his face. Don't get him wrong, he's probably the only one who can actually listen and understand and compute with what you're singing, but like he really wants to hear your actual voice. He thinks it'll be such a treat!

"Your Graceee...Is there a way to let these humble gods hear your voice? Pleaseee? This bard will make a ballad about it and the world shall start spewing about it right after!~ Hehe, it'll be a big hit, one as grand as your visage!"

He really wants to hear you sing now. Good luck explaining that you got no control over dis :)

Zhongli

GRANDPA ABSOLUTELY SHOOKETH. But he finds it pleasant to see that you're having fun and enjoying your time in Teyvat.

Unlike the airhead beside him, he cannot understand what you are singing, and he feels kinda disappointed that he can't enjoy it too. He would share the memory—

Ahem, anyways. Loves it, 100%. Bro's a huge supporter even though he legit has, like, zero comprehension of the situation. He's also giving Venti some bombasic side-eyes.

"Your Grace, please do not be pressured by this wind god. While it would be a stunning blessing, do NOT feel like you owe us anything." You know those memes where like, one person is forcing someone's head to bow while they bow to apologize to whoever got offended? Yeah, it's that one meme except it's Zhongli making Venti bow for his idiocy.

Grandpa wants to hear your voice fr this time, but bro's not gonna force it upon you. Grandpa will, nevertheless, share the memory over osmanthus wine, because "Osmanthus wine tastes the same as I—"

Ei

Raiden Ei, Raiden Ei...I honestly think she feels like she doesn't DESERVE to hear you sing. Like, she feels like she just intruded on your personal space and she crossed some sort of line.

But the wind's pleasant and all of the surrounding area is practically glowing as you sing. Your voice practically carries throughout the place, becoming the nature, the water, the wind, everything.

"Your Grace, you need not heed to the request at all. We are more blessed to be in your presence enough." As much as she's getting more and more used to the present times of Teyvat, she's still kinda stuck in her ways a little. She still thinks of you highly and does not let her beliefs falter.

She really doesn't think she deserves to hear your voice, but she is also very curious. Never wants to push though because she's old-school.

Puppet Shogun looking at this and going "This will be forever engraved in eternity" as Ei is shaking the Puppet Shogun by the shoulders like "NO, WE SHOULD NOT BE HEARING THIS WHAT KIND OF PROGRAM ARE YOU ON I DID NOT PROGRAM YOU LIKE THIS—"

All in all? Mental crisis! :D

Nahida

Cute god loves you! She loves how the flowers bloom, how the wind flows, how the water speaks—not even analogies can describe the amazingness of it all!

She's grinning so wide with such wholesome-wide eyes, like an actual child discovering music for the first time or smth ykwim? IT'S ADORABLE IS WHAT I'M TRYING TO SAY.

"Your Grace...is it possible if we could see this more? You don't have to, of course, but this is really amazing!" She's practically GLOWING with excitement and nervousness. While Nahida wants to hear you sing and see you enjoying your time, she doesn't want to push boundaries!

Safe to say, she'll support whatever your answer will be!

Furina

Girl's flabbergasted. She thinks she might have been sent to both celestia and hell because it was hard to compute whether she was trespassing or if she was being blessed.

Furina is utterly speechless to how your voice alone commands presence and power without even needing to try so hard. Anyone, absolutely anyone, can tell you are truly the Almighty Creator.

Though she's retired from being the Hydro Archon, she still has the slight dramatic flare she has had for 500 years. And she's got to say, she absolutely loved your performance!

"Your Grace, if I could humbly suggest a request on the behest of the follow archons beside me." Furina dramatically bows a little. "May we be humbled by your presence, and continue to gaze upon our unfathomed eyes of what a real god can truly do in the likes of the world? I'm sure this will bring many beautiful pieces of art—be it music, visual arts, dramatic arts, and so on!" Girlie doesn't realize she made a beautiful monologue about your singing on the spot, but one thing's for sure—she loves you and you singing, even if her ears can't understand it. It was still a beautiful piece.

After all, she was the All-Powerful Hydro Archon before she retired. She knows power and art when she sees it, and you bypass all forms of mortal concepts. You're practically her favorite musician!

Please grace her—I mean them—with your singing! It's too beautiful to miss!

Ghost Rebel Side Notes: I am SAD I couldn't finish this when it was still AROUND CHRISTMAS SOBBING, but I hope y'all like this post, though! Hopefully my next post won't take too long—but I'm not gonna say anything because rn I'm EATING those words up like it's for breakfast lol—I'll see you all next time :)

✦ Check out The Ghost Rebel’s Blog Description & Info Page to See if Their Mailbox is Open! ✦

[sailoryooons]

F*ck Christmas | myg (m)

❆ Paring: Yoongi x f. reader

❆ Summary: Making hating Christmas your entire personality was never the plan. Then again, it seems bad things only ever happen around Christmas - like discovering your fiancé cheating on you, forcing you to move back to your sleepy hometown. But Min Yoongi happens to love Christmas, and if there is one thing your very stubborn childhood crush is going to do, it’s try to reignite your Christmas spirit. Even if he has to force-feed it to you with gingerbread cookies and too-sweet eggnog.

❆ Word Count: 23,466

❆ Genre: smut, fluff, friends to lovers

❆ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 

❆ Warnings: Reader is miserable to start this and isn't very nice to Yoongi because she has Feelings and unpacked issues, a lot of nostalgia, mentions of depression and depictions of anxiety, mentions of parent deaths (Yoonig's mom, readers dad), a lot of familial guilt, reader isn't always The Best, Yoongi's dad has some failing memory with old age, Yoongi and reader and their endless pining, cheesy and very contrived scenarios, explicit language, recreational drinking, explicit sexual content including, unprotected sex, oral (f. receiving) fingering (f. receiving), Big Dick Yoongi, bodily fluids, established safeword, honestly emotional fucking ok, reader being a bit in subspace/overwhelmed during sex, cheesy as fuck ending

❆ Published: December 28, 2022

❆ A/N: Holy shit this is finally done. It is days, late, about 10k more words than it was supposed to be because I couldn't shut the fuck up, and it is not my favorite thing I have ever written, but I hope that you enjoy it anyway, and that you find some comfort if you have a hard time during the holidays like I sure as shit do (which is why this fic is legit so late ijsdgkjng). Eternally grateful to M for being my mental crutch during this process, reading to make sure it doesn't suck and constantly assuring me I'm not writing a total car wreck. Super pleased to have been able to write with @here2bbtstrash @gimmethatagustd and @nabiolive so please please please make sure you check out their fics when they're posted (Jai's is posted now so GO READ!!!!)

Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

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The monotonous shuffle of feet, mechanical click of the baggage claim conveyor, and three-toned chime before a muffled and completely unintelligible airport announcement work together in tandem to make a grating symphony. 

You spot your neon green, plastic suitcase drifting through the black flaps of the conveyer. As it nears, a cluster of people block your access, huddling and waiting for their bags right up against it. With an angry sigh, you navigate around them, throwing a glare as you reach for your back and haul it off the conveyor. 

People who crowd baggage claim when their bags aren’t out are at the top of your travel intolerances, second only to people who clap when the plane lands. 

Wheeling your suitcase toward the entrance as fast as you can, you look at your lock screen to see that your mother has blown up your phone with text messages.

[Mom]: Gate G

[Mom]: I’m at gate G

[Mom]: I still have the white Macaran. Gate G I am waiting by it.

[Mom]: What are you wearing? I will try to pull up closer. 

[Mom]: They are asking me not to wait. Do you have your bags yet? Is it close to Gate G?

“For the love of Christ,” you mutter under your breath, shoving the device in your pocket. 

The airport doors open, making a stuttering suction sound as they do. Cold air hits you in the face, making you flinch and squint. 

Just near the column marked ‘G’ your mother waits in her white car, waving wildly when she sees you. Despite your temporary annoyance, you give her a tight-lipped grin as she climbs out of the car, running to you with hand motions signaling she wants your bag. 

“Hi, hi!” she cheers, grabbing you quickly for a brief hug before making grabbing motions toward your bag. “Here, let me! Let me!”

“It’s fine,” you assure, trying to wheel the heavy bag away from you. You both end up wheeling it together, your mom refusing to let go of the handle until she’s opening the trunk and you’re hauling it into the back. “Thanks.”

Inside the car, the leather seats are heated and the hot air is blasting enough to threaten a nosebleed. You close the vents as your mother gets in, saying something you can’t hear over the blaring horns, slamming of her door, and fumbling with her seatbelt.

“What?”

“How was your flight?”

Awful. Long. Filled with absolute dread of the finality of your one-way ticket. Wondering if the movers had successfully delivered your shit to storage and dropped your car off at your mother’s house.

Naturally, you say none of these things. You offer canned responses with forced happiness that your mother doesn’t detect. She’s just happy to see you. The thought makes you soften a little.

Outside the world is covered in sheets of white. You know the winding roads well. Your mother talks about how it’s just the two of you for Christmas morning, but that she is volunteering at the homeless shelter on Christmas Eve. You take this in with a soft hum, eyes watching as you pass Mulberry street.

If you drive down another mile and take a left, you’ll be at Plaza Center, the mecca of your childhood with a movie theater, a Blockbuster turned Mattress Firm, Lucky Strike bowling alley, and a combination grocery store and liquor store where you used to huddle outside in the cold while waiting for someone’s fake ID to work. 

Soft music plays in the background as the tires hum on the road. You pass by the newer additions to the town – Starbucks, Olive Garden, Longhorns – they’ve all replaced longtime restaurants and a laser tag place that you remember having three birthdays in a row at. 

“Tired?” your mom asks, drawing you from trying to draw up the red brick houses from memory instead of watching them blur by. You hum. “You can take a nap later, get that airplane yuck off of you. Yoongi is working on fixing those damned cabinets. He ripped out the whole thing-“

“What?” 

“What what?”

“Why is Yoongi in your house?”

Your mother blinks at you owlishly as she pulls up to the stop light. You realize suddenly that she’s in one of your father’s old sweatshirts from university. It cuts you like a knife as you readjust yourself in the seat, suddenly tense and griping the door. 

“Min Yoongi still lives here?”

“Of course he does,” she scoffs and turns when the light changes. “Do you not keep up with him? You guys used to be such good friends.”

“Why is he at the house?”

“I just told you, he’s re-doing those damn cabinets. They had mold in them.”

For a moment, you just slow-blink at your mother. Min Yoongi is in her house – your house, now. You haven’t seen him since college. You knew he had moved back after school to help move his dad into a home, but he was supposed to leave once his dad was settled. 

He was… well he was supposed to be a big-shot architect. You just assumed he was. It occurs to you that you can’t remember the last time you even looked at Yoongi’s social media, though that was more on purpose than you’d like to admit.

Who wants to see what their life-long crush is still up to after they’ve long stopped talking to you?

“So you had him do our cabinets? He’s an architect, not a contractor.” 

“You really don’t know shit,” your mom laughs. “Yoongi took over his dad’s shop down on Miriam. Home Depot keeps trying to run him out, but most of us still like the comfort of Min’s Hardware. Plus, he spends the entire last quarter of the year building toys and the like for the children’s home and new chairs and furniture for the old folks home.”

You pause. “Is Old Man Min-“

It’s hard to bring yourself to finish the sentence. You remember the bleak affair of summer 09’ when Yoongi’s mother passed away, but you feel like someone would have told you if his father had passed. 

Thankfully, your mother shakes her head. “Still kicking. Yoongi didn’t want to sell out to one of those land development companies, though. They kept trying to pressure him – they want to open up a Super Target – but he said no.”

“Huh.” You lean back in the seat as your mom turns down your street. There is a sense of trepidation as you pass rows of brick-and-mortar homes with nondescript cars in the drive. “Good for him. Fuck Target.”

“Yeah, well. I wouldn’t mind a target, but I certainly don’t want it to replace Min’s.” 

A dark blue truck sits in the drive of your home. It’s hard not to focus on it, your eyes drifting from the swan-shaped mailbox to the giant blow-up decorations still wiggling, even covered in snow. The wind chimes are frozen on the porch and there’s a tarp on the swing set in front of the kitchen window.

The kitchen window, where you vaguely make out a shape with his back turned.

Butterflies erupt in your stomach. You have no reason to be nervous to see Min Yoongi and yet the thought of awkwardly walking into the kitchen like hey how are you threatens to make your demand your mom drive you back to the airport even though you have nowhere to go.

No home to go back to. No fiancé to-

Your mom shuts off the dark and slides out. She’s still rattling on about the developers buying up land and putting in condos and luxury apartments that no one can afford. You’re a beat behind her, slipping a little on the icy drive as you scramble out of the vehicle and retrieve your bag. 

Inside your chest, your heart pounds against your ribcage. You keep glancing out the window, wondering if you’ll suddenly see Yoongi’s soft, sweet face. Kicking ice off her boots on the porch, your mother opens the door as she talks on, breezing in and to the side to take off her boots.

You step in awkwardly. Unfamiliar. 

Everything in your view is the exact way you remember it, except suddenly… None of this feels like yours. Or like anything that has ever belonged to you. To your right, there is an open doorway that leads to the study – or the computer room as your dad chronically called it. It’s dark inside but you can see the indents on the carpet from the faded office chair, and the power-down Dell on the desk with multiple broken drawers. 

On the right is a cubby where you can kick your shoes off and hang your bag. You follow your mother’s example and take off your boots, feeling in a daze as your eyes drift down the hall. There’s a set of stairs that lead to the second floor just beyond the door to the computer room, and the living room and kitchen open up at the end of the hall.

Christmas music and the smell of cinnamon float down. There’s a lump in your throat as your mom walks toward the living room – and ultimately where the kitchen is. And Yoongi. Who is apparently hammering at something loudly, from the sounds of all the banging that drowns out the sound of Michael Bublé. 

“I’m gonna lay down,” you blurt before your mom can enter Yoongi’s line of vision. You’re frozen in the doorway, eyes wide, heart hammering. “The plane ride really exhausted me and I have a bit of a headache. Yoongi’s banging will make it worse.”

She frowns. “Well at least come to say hello.”

“I’ll see him later,” you assure her, moving toward the hardwood stairs and bending to pull up your bag. “It’s a small town, no big deal. Tell him I said hello.”

You’re halfway up the stairs when your mother says your name, irritation evident. You don’t respond, jogging the rest of the way. The bottom of your bag clips one of the stairs, making you stumble. You curse and recover before rushing down the right side of the hall, past the pictures on the wall and your open bathroom with the mermaid curtains straight into your room where you slam the door.

Leaning against it, you close your eyes and take a few breaths. In and out. In and out. Downstairs, the hammering pauses. You assume your mother is talking to Yoongi. Guilt eats away at you like a worm to an apple. You shove it down and walk into your room proper, trying not to think about how you want to avoid the man downstairs at all costs. 

Collapsing on your bed, you flinch and grab the mattress, forgetting how springy it is as they twang under the sudden weight. Your room is exactly how you left it. Aquamarine walls, a sea turtle lamp, a horrible collection of Justin Bieber memorabilia including a lunch box you can’t ever remember using, and an old box TV with a tiny DVD player. 

A broken lava lamp stands frozen in time on the white, paint-chipped dresser. You wonder if it even turns on anymore. The rolling closet door is open, empty save for extra sheets and towels and a couple of Vera Bradley duffle bags your mom never tossed out. 

Everything is the same and yet… you have never felt more like a stranger in your own home.

Pulling the scale pattern quilt from under you to wrap yourself in, you close your eyes and drift off to sleep, although the hammering downstairs starts once again.

-

A knock on the door and your mom’s voice telling you to come eat dinner pries you from sleep. Your limbs feel heavy and your back and neck ache with the unfamiliarity of the springy bed. Your thoughts are honey-thick as you try to remember that you’re not in your apartment – your old apartment that is no longer yours – and that your ex is not with you.

Mouth dry and limbs sluggish, you manage to trek down the stairs, footsteps heavy and awkward. There's still Christmas music playing somewhere in the living room, but it’s at a manageable volume now. You try not to think about it too much, finding Christmas music particularly grating this year.

The smell of dinner drifts from the kitchen and your stomach growls viciously, reminding you that you only had cheese and crackers for lunch. You rub your eyes, entering the open concept area with the kitchen facing the living room and the dining room tucked on the side of the kitchen against the glass-paned windows that look out into the yard.

Your mom sets something on the table and straightens, gesturing to something on the island countertop as she says, “Will you bring those potatoes over, Yoongi? I keep forgetting them on the counter.”

Two things happen at once. 

The first thing that happens is the slow-blink turning of your head, suddenly aware that a man is standing in your kitchen looking at you. Your feet glue themselves to the floor and your mouth parts a little in surprise and confusion that there is another human being in your house outside of you and your mother. 

The second thing that happens is the surge of panic and curiosity slamming into one another, two rogue waves at war as they unsteady the sleeping waters of your mind post-nap. You feel the urge to turn on your heel and run back up the stairs, but you’re stuck staring at Yoongi, both terrified to see him and... well you haven’t seen him in a while. You’re curious. 

Yoongi’s hair is blonde - a color he hasn’t had in years - with silky lowlights that look really good on him. Though most of it is tucked behind delicate, round ears that are decorated with his signature silver hoops, a few rogue strands fall endearingly over soft cat eyes. He’s broad in the shoulders, the material of his shirt pulled taught over the hint of biceps.

And Yoongi’s face – devastating as always. You always thought that he looked like a child of the moon goddess, smooth, milky skin with a rose-flushed mouth. His mouth as always looks soft, and as it breaks into a smile now when he sees you, it feels like the entire world might spin out of control. 

“Have a good nap?” Yoongi questions. His voice is so much deeper, raspy, and soft, and nothing at all like what you remember. But it’s been how long since you’ve seen him? At least four years. Maybe five. 

“Huh?” you can’t stop the words from leaving your mouth, your brain unable to connect the dots and form anything else.

Yoongi chuckles and ducks his head a bit, pink in the cheeks. He picks up the glass dish of potatoes that your mother asked for, rounding the island and putting it on the dining room table. He moves in your childhood home with ease, returning to the kitchen and popping up a drawer for a serving spoon.

“Jet lag, much?” that teasing tone of his is still there and you suddenly remember being in the ninth grade, hiding your face in your hands because he was poking fun at you for something innocent. “I don’t bite.”

“Why are you here?” Again, you’re unable to stop the words from coming out of your mouth. This time, however, you have enough sense to realize how rude it sounds. Swallowing past the rapidly forming knot of anxiety, you move toward the table. “You don’t have a headache from all that hammering you’ve been doing?”

Yoongi shrugs and sits down at the table across from where your mother has seated herself, pouring a glass of red for herself. “You seem to have slept through it fine.”

“Yeah, well.” You sit down next to your mom, suddenly feeling defensive. “A five-hour flight will do that to you.”

Yoongi hums, agreeing as he glances up at you again. You’ve had dreams about those damn eyes, written about them in childhood diaries. Wondered about them late at night, when your ex was fast asleep next to you.

Thoughts and memories of Min Yoongi paint several parts of your life. Childhood crush. Close friend. The subject of your dreamy sighs. The crush had worn off around college, but there was always that something when you looked at him. Perhaps the acknowledgment that he was impossibly beautiful and charming. 

Or maybe the inescapable fact that you might always harbor something extra for him.

Averting your gaze, you clear your throat and grab the bottle of wine from your mom, pouring a healthy amount. “Why are you ripping out the cabinets anyway?”

“There was mold in the back of them.” He accepts a plate of meat from your mother. “I came over to help your mom pull down that bone china she keeps hidden away and found it.”

You glance at your mom. “You couldn’t use a ladder?”

“You try having old hips,” she huffs. “Yoongi isn’t that far. He’s a doll and he’s always a phone call away.” 

There is nothing wrong with Yoongi helping your aging mom. At least, that is what you tell yourself as she asks Yoongi about a TV show both of them have been watching. You fill your plate and listen to them, hovering on the edge of a conversation you can’t contribute to.

“And then she had the nerve to act like she was holier than thou,” your mother agrees, shaking her head. “The Greens are going to get theirs, now that Alicent was exposed for a snake.”

Yoongi snorts. “I don’t know, no one ever gets punished the way we want on that show.”

“Who is Alicent?” you ask, dubious.

Both of them look at you. Your mom waves you off with a roll of her eyes at Yoongi. “She doesn’t watch TV. I’ve been begging her to watch for weeks now. Thankfully you caved in.”

“I just don’t have time for TV.”

Your mom pats your hand delicately. It doesn’t feel comforting like it should. “I know. Thankfully I can gossip about it with Yoongi.”

They seem comfortable. Your mom laughs as Yoongi rants about some character arch you have never heard of. You watch as your mom cuts into her steak alongside him, handing him sauce for his diced pieces. He thanks her easily, not missing a beat as he uncaps it.

Suddenly, you feel like a stranger in your own house. All this time you’ve been living on the other side of the country, Yoongi has been here doing... whatever it is that he does. Making himself comfortable in your home. Filling a space for you. And now that you’re here, it’s like you don’t exist.

No one asks you how you’ve been. No one asks for a single detail about your life. Whether it’s out of pity because they know you’ve been left out in the cold with no home, no fiance, and leave from work because... well they felt bad that you were cheated on and booted from your apartment.

It's like you don’t exist anywhere. You don’t exist in your mom’s life. You don’t exist in Yoongi’s.

And it drives you mad.

You get up abruptly from the table, startling both of them. “I’m feeling ill,” you mutter tightly. You’re moving away from the table as your mother sputters, surprised. “I’ll try to eat later, I’m going to lie down.”

“Do you need help up the stairs?”

Yoongi’s question and concern seem genuine. It makes the sudden gnawing feeling inside of you even worse. “No,” you snap. “Enjoy your dinner and conversation.”

They both call after you as you turn and hightail it out of the kitchen and toward the steps. Everything feels blurry and the tightening of your threat is the only warning of sudden tears. It feels silly and pathetic, to suddenly be worked up into a frenzy over – well you’re not really sure over what. But it doesn’t sting any less, whatever this sense of feeling left out is.

Crawling into your bed, you pull the covers over your head just like you used to when you lived here last. The tears burn hot down your face and you press the heels of your hands into your eyes, as though you can grind the tear ducts to dust. 

You hate being home. You hate that it doesn’t feel like home. But most of all, you hate that at the height of your misery and embarrassing life, Min Yoongi now has front row tickets.

Somehow, you manage to sleep.

-

The sound of thunder wakes you up in the morning. No, it’s not thunder. Thunder comes and goes in slow rolls of sound, fading, and building in a gentle percussion. This is the constant booming of something bang bang banging in a repetitive pattern. 

Irritation drags you from sleep. You peel the covers from over your face, blinking and groaning in the morning light that filters through the curtain. Crust forms in the corner of your eye. You rub furiously until you see colors explode behind your lids.

Blinking until your room swims into view, you stare up at the ceiling a little longer until you remember that you’re in your childhood room. And that the loud banging sound coming from downstairs is probably Yoongi.

The sticky, nasty feeling from last night curls inside of you again. Less potent, but still there. Looking back on it, you feel a little dramatic. Watching Yoongi and your mom exist in a space so easily without you while you were there triggered a sliver of guilt you had been nursing since you decided to move home. 

Even now, you ignore the feeling as you slip down the stairs and toward the kitchen. The hunger is demanding and ever-present, and though you’re unsure you want to face Yoongi again after last night, you can’t ignore the dizziness from lack of food. 

Sunlight filters in through the kitchen window. Dust motes float in the air, suspended in gold light. There are pieces of wood and metal piles of hinges and knobs, screws rolling across the counter, and plastic-wrapped pieces of hinges and bolts, but it’s still your kitchen.

There’s still white backsplash against the sink with a yellow duck soap dispenser. There’s a black fridge with chip-clip magnets holding up pictures of your family, your graduation photos, and drawings that you created as a child. The island countertop is buried in Yoongi’s supplies, but you imagine that if it weren’t, there’d be fake fruit in a basket with mugs full of tea gone cold.

Today, Yoongi is in a black, oversized t-shirt, and a beanie. There’s a small speaker next to him, Michael Bublé singing clearly through the kitchen as Yoongi slides a shelf into one of the newly constructed cabinets. 

“You really like Bublé.”

Yoongi flinches, turning around to see you hovering and hesitating near the kitchen counter. He grins a little, wiping his hands on his pants. His blonde hair just barely peaks out from underneath the beanie and his face is flushed red as he crosses his arms over his chest and leans back on the counter. There are dark circles under his eyes, but he otherwise looks beautiful first thing in the morning.

“I like Christmas music,” he offers with a shrug. “Tis the season.”

“Hmm.” Your eyes scan the kitchen. “Is there a way to make coffee in this mess?”

He nodes and moves a cabinet, revealing the coffee maker. “Ta-da.” You huff once in laughter before going to your fridge in search of creamer. You sense Yoongi’s dark gaze on you as you do. “How are you feeling?”

“Hmm?”

“From last night? Feeling better?”

“Oh.” You shut the fridge and avoid his gaze. “Yeah.”

He hums. You flick the lid on the coffee and pause, looking around the kitchen for one of the pods to make the coffee. Yoongi leans over with a chuckle and pulls open a drawer, revealing rows of neatly placed Keurig cups.

“Thanks,” you say flatly. 

“Mhmm.” You pop it in and turn the machine on. “How long is your cabinet project going to take?”

“I’ll be finished by tomorrow. Why? Want me gone that bad?”

“You’re loud.”

“Comes with the nature of the job. Sorry, usually no one is here in the morning. Your mom is at the park.”

“Since when does she go on walks?”

He shrugs, dubious of your confusion. “She always goes on walks. Jeez, you have been gone a long time.”

“So what?” You snap, arms crossed. “You know everything about my mom now?”

“I spend a lot of time with her. I help her around the house and she brings me lunch and makes dinner sometimes. I keep her company.”

Tension creeps into your shoulders and neck. Pressing your mouth into a firm line, you turn your back to him, unable to make eye contact as the little sliver of guilt in you strikes at him, viper quick. “Cause I wasn’t here to do it, right?”

“That isn’t at all what I said.”

“You didn’t have to.”

Your name leaves his mouth with a sigh. “Have I done something to upset you? You haven’t seemed keen on me being here since last night. I was excited to see you after all this time and catch up.”

“I wasn’t gone that long.”

“I mean it’s been five years-”

“Sorry I left town because I had a life. I get it, I left home and left my parents here and my mom has been lonely since my dad passed. You’re a knight in shining armor, I get it.”

“What?” You ignore looking at him, despite shuffling closer to you as you pour creamer into your coffee. You feel a nasty tension in your throat. Somewhere, you know that you’ve launched a hate campaign against Yoongi within twenty-four hours of being home. And yet you don’t look at him. “I - wow. Okay, I didn’t think that of you at all. We seem to be on wildly different pages, why would I ever think that?”

Before you can answer, the front door opens and closes. Your mom's arrival has you slithering toward the kitchen’s exit, throwing Yoongi a glance. His frown is deep and genuine concern flickers in his eyes. “I don’t think that,” Yoongi ventures again, trying to keep you in the conversation. “I think a lot of things about you, but that isn’t one. This conversation has really gotten away from me, can we start over?”

“It’s fine,” you mutter. “Sorry for assuming.” 

Your mom waves, shrugging off ice-covered boots and a jacket at the door. You wave and rush out that you’re going up for a shower to wash off the airport funk. She waves you off and grins, heading down the hall and launching into a conversation with Yoongi. 

A nasty feeling trails you up the steps. You don’t even make it to the top of the stairs before you already know you’ve been irrational, emotional, and completely out of line. But seeing Yoongi after all this time, seeing the way he’s there for your mom in ways you aren’t, and nursing wounds of moving home against your will and plans… it’s a lot to swallow. 

In your room, you sit on the bed with your coffee on the nightstand, head dropped into your hands as you cry. It’s been coming all night. It’s been coming since you caught your ex in the apartment with another person. It’s been coming since you were no longer what they wanted in mind, body, and soul. It had been coming since you were asked to leave the apartments because you had moved in - not the other way around. 

The pain festering inside of you for the last two and a half weeks isn’t Yoongi’s fault. In fact, part of you is surprised that your grief and guilt at dedicating the last five years to someone who you didn’t even like that much and who has now cheated on you has surfaced in the face of Min Yoongi. 

It isn’t his fault that you rarely came home to start. It isn’t his fault that after Christmas two years ago, you didn’t want to come home at all. Didn’t want to be in a home without your dad. Didn’t want to be in a home that wasn’t in your new city, away from old failures, away from old hurts. Didn’t want to be in a home down the street from the Mins.

“Jeez,” you laugh at yourself, no mirth evident. “What better way to kick off seeing Yoongi again?”

-

Yoongi finishes the cabinets the next day and you manage to avoid seeing him again, unsure how to fix the weirdness. 

A few days later, you come down to see your mom on the couch, tucked into a flannel-patterned blanket, and watching Hallmark movies. You cringe at the thought of poorly budgeted, badly scripted movies. Your mom, however, has always loved them. And your dad always watched them with her.

Something softens inside of you. You can’t remember the last time your ex willingly watched anything they were uninterested in for your sake. Perhaps because they had long been fucking someone else. 

Shaking the thought from your mind, you trail to your mom, slipping wordlessly onto the couch and pulling an extra blanket over your legging and socks. Your mom shoots you a wide grin, eyes crinkling at the edges. She reaches over, patting your hand and squeezing it before settling in, keeping her hand on yours. 

Though you turn to the TV, your eyes sting as you try to focus on the plot of a newly single woman who has moved back to her sleepy hometown during the holidays. Naturally, there is a storied past with the beautiful but sensitive male lead who owns a failing bookshop. It’s unsurprising when the female lead takes a job there unwillingly, and you watch 

“These are very cheesy,” you observe, watching as the two leads fall in love over clumsily spilled coffees, one full of Christmas cheer and one that hates Christmas. “Why do you like them so much?”

Your mom shrugs. “They always have a happy ending, they’re easy to follow along, and they fuel that little hope that the holidays have something a little special.” She looks at you when you grunt and she sighs. “I know you haven’t had very good holidays the last few years. But you used to really enjoy them.”

“They’re just… too much. It’s just another day.”

“Hmm. They mean a lot to some people, though. Take Yoongi for example - he’s doing extra work at the shop selling wares, making pieces for Christmas, and trying to finish making toys for the children’s home this year. He hardly sleeps.”

You think about the dark circles under Yoongi’s eyes that morning. “That’s a lot.”

“He could use the help.” She glances at you from the corner of her eye. “You know where the shop is.”

“Yeah.”

Morning fades into afternoon. You find yourself shaking your head around a mouthful of a sandwich with crunchy chips in the middle as your mom settles next to you, placing a glass of iced tea on the table. Your legs are crossed and you lean forward to press greasy, chip fingers into the paper towel you’re using as a napkin.

“She is so stupid if she doesn’t believe him,” you mumble around your mouth full of food. “Like hello? He has no reason to lie to her.”

Your mom's laughter fills the room and she shrugs. Somehow, you’re on your third Hallmark movie, and you haven’t managed to move or do anything productive with your day, like unpacking your bags or looking at the computer room full of the shit that the movers delivered to your mother’s house now that you don’t have a house. 

“If she believed him,” your mom says with a sip of tea, “Then there wouldn’t be any drama. And without drama, there would be no movie.”

“Ugh, all of these movies are the same.”

And yet you make no move to turn it off or leave. 

When you finish your sandwich and settle back, full and bloated, you realize that you’re rather enjoying just a day watching cheesy movies with your mom. Even if they hit a little close to home on the narrative of your current situation. 

But no - you’re different. Your life is real, and you’re stuck without a home and without a place to go. Clenching your jaw, you force the memories and the words to leave. You don’t want to think about the way your ex gently asked if you had somewhere else to go. You don’t want to think about the words I’m sorry. I love you but I’m not in love with you anymore. 

I mean, you weren’t either but… marriage still seemed like an okay option. A good social move. Something you’d be content with, even if you weren’t head over heels in love.

“Here,” you hold your hand to her for her empty plates. “I’ll do the dishes.” 

Getting away from the TV gives you a second to breathe. The rush of the faucet drowns out the sound of the TV, warm water rushing over your fingers as you run the plates underwater.

Outside, the world is a blanket of snow. You can see Mr. Park across the street shoveling the drive as his wife gets into the car, the taillights kicking on. The grass is frozen, a sea of ice and frozen Christmas decorations.

In the drive, your car is parked next to your mom’s sedan. She hadn’t mentioned that it was delivered, but you don’t know where you would go anyway. You don’t really have any friends to visit. At least, not anyone you’ve kept in touch with enough to call up and go to lunch.

The absence of Yoongi’s truck reminds you that he had been working on the cabinets, drawing your eyes to his craftsmanship as you flip the sink off. With dried hands, you brush your fingers over the lightly stained wood. It’s smooth and cool to the touch, the curves and indents artfully done. 

Yoongi had always been an exceptional artist. His passion has been in buildings and even interior design, but you’re not surprised to see that he’s as easily a handyman and woodworker as he is anything else. 

You think back to what your mom said about him, alone for the holidays and working hard. A sour taste sits heavy on your tongue as you think about your barbed words. 

Chewing the inside of your cheek, you lean against the counter and pull your phone out, flipping through social media until you find his page. There isn’t much in the way of family and friends, but there are plenty of photos of new projects and a beautiful black cat. 

I was excited to see you after all this time and catch up. 

Heaving a sigh, you push off the counter and announce that you’re going to get dressed to run a few places, telling your mom to make you a list if she needs anything. 

Getting dressed is harder than you expect. The urge to crawl back into bed and go to sleep almost wins out, but you somehow manage to pull on the jeans and thick sweater, followed by a scarf and jacket.

There is something empty and strange about the motions. It feels like you’ve forgotten the movement, the slide of clothes foreign to your skin. After two weeks of making phone calls and arrangements for an over-priced hotel bed, you supposed you haven’t gotten dressed much recently. 

Picking up the list from your mom and giving her a kiss, you’re out of the door, glancing down at her slanted script. You huff, laughter cut short by the bite of cold wind. Of course everything she needs is from Min’s Hardware, though you had been planning to go by there anyway.

With a deep breath and squared shoulders, you get in the car and think about how the hell to apologize to Yoongi.

-

Min’s Hardware had its first building expansion when you were in tenth grade. You remember how excited you were when Yoongi told you that his parents bought out the recently emptied arcade next door to add a lumber department. Even in tenth grade, Yoongi had sketched out aisles and systems for the store, layout after layout of the most functional way to accommodate the expansion. 

Before opening day, the two of you and some other kids in the neighborhood had run through the aisles, the smell of cedar and pine and fresh sawdust so wonderfully potent it made you dizzy. Yoongi specifically had shown you the different types of wood and pliability, explaining what he would use each for. 

By then, it was summer heading into eleventh grade and he had already decided he wanted to be an architect. He had insane drawings for new shopping centers the next city over, and wild renderings of his dream buildings full of avant-garde but functional structures. 

From the parking lot, you can see that Yoongi still occupies the same two spaces Min’s has stood in since tenth grade. Except now it shares a parking lot with a Starbucks and Chipotle building, melded together. The line for coffee snakes around the building into the empty parking lot in front of Min’s, a mismatched creature of metal and purring engines. 

Icy ground makes you slip a bit before you steady yourself on the door handle, gasp stuck in your chest before you can breathe out slowly, confident that you won’t slide and bust your ass. 

From the outside, Min’s looks both the same and different. There is a new sign above the store, now with its own light humming in the dark, gray winter sky. Tinted windows prevent you from seeing inside entirely, but you can see the faint outline of racks as you approach. 

Standing in front of the double doors, you suddenly feel the urge to spin on your heel and run in the other direction. If the inside still looks the same, though, the counter is right next to the door, which means if Yoongi is there, he can see you.

Standing. Staring. Looking at the cold, metal handle of the door and not doing anything. 

“Rip the bandaid off,” you mutter to yourself. 

Yanking the door open startles you, the bell on the door chiming wildly with the force of your pull. It’s the same bell that was here when you were a teen, and a tingle slithers down your back at the memory. 

It's warm. The smell of mixed wood hits you, soothing and fresh. To your left is a counter with an elderly gentleman reading a book. He looks up behind the POS system, grinning at you. He’s dressed in a long sleeve shirt with a festive sweater to match the Christmas soundtrack playing over the speakers. 

Your eyes flicker to his badge and you fold your lips to stop the giggle that threatens to escape when you look at his name tag: Elf Ian. 

“Good afternoon, miss!” he greets, shuffling behind the counter. There’s no one else in the store as you crane your head away from the register, looking at the rows and rows of hardware and things for sale. “How can I help you?”

“Hi, I’m looking for Yoongi?”

“Mr. Min is back in the carpentry section. I can take you there.”

You wave him off with a smile. “No, that's okay, I know the way.” 

“Really? You’ve been here before? You look like a new face.”

“It’s been a while,” you admit, admiring the layout of the store, each of the towering metal shelves marked with aisle numbers and departments: electrical, flooring, lighting, hardware, paint, heating and cooling, and so on. It’s not as comprehensive as a Home Depot or a Lowe’s, but Min’s has everything that a small town needs. “Back and to the right?” 

He nods with a smile. 

The Rockettes play overhead as you wander toward the back of the store. You take the paint aisle, admiring all of the colorful paint swatch papers. Your shoes scuff on the floor, speckled with some paint splatter near the spray section as though some kids got into the supply. 

You distinctly remember Yoongi accidentally spraying a bright pink into the air once. 

All of the pricing is written in neat, slanted handwriting on thick brown pieces of paper. You pause at the end of an aisle, reaching out to press a finger against one to trace the letters. You recognize the font from years worth of scribbled and pressed flat architecture designs. 

The carpentry section has rows and rows of wood of different shapes, sizes, and variety. Behind all of that is a sizable desk for specialty services, and you know that the door leads to a room that houses Yoongi’s woodworking shop. It had once been the bowling alley section of the arcade before Old Man Min bought out the unit. 

No one mans the tall, L-shaped desk. There are several binders with types of wood, types of stains, project ideas, samples, and frames. You smile when you see some you recognize, the peeling plastic of the front evidence of old age. 

A large counter behind the desk has a few wrapped items that Yoongi must have to be shipped or picked up. There’s a cup of coffee that looks like it’s gone cold, a jar full of wrapped mints for the taking, and a small button that says ‘push for service’ next to the POS system. 

Swallowing thickly, you press the button. An automated chime echoes from behind the wooden swing door that leads to the woodshop. Before Yoongi took over, his father used to make furniture, fill custom orders and make repairs. It’s no surprise that Yoongi has opted to take over this portion, especially if he’s making custom orders for the children’s home. 

The door swings open, breaking your trance. Yoongi pulls up short, eyebrows raise as he wipes sawdust from his apron. He’s in a sweater and jeans today, the sleeves pushed up to his elbow to help him work and his blonde hair shaggy and a little unruly. The pink sheen on his cheeks and nose is all you need to know he had been working pretty hard.

“Hi,” he offers tentatively, looking you up and down. You hate that he looks so guarded. “Coming to custom order a rocking horse?”

You grin. “Actually I was wondering if you did chairs?”

“Hmmm.” He shuffles toward the counter, dropping his hesitance as he leans on his elbows, a sideways smirk on his face. Despite everything, it makes your stomach flip. “We do all kinds of chairs. Rocking, dining, bar stools, even church pews.”

“Wow, Min’s really is the best and where expectations are beyond the Minimum.”

Yoongi groans and covers his face with his hands, flushed pink as you laugh at him. “That’s not even our jingle anymore, okay? I was a kid when I came up with it.”

“I thought it was cute!”

“Yeah, you thought Jackson was cute in the fifth grade too.”

“Isn’t he on his third kid?”

Yoongi gives a loud laugh. “Sixth, Miss I Failed Algebra Twice. He and Jiah have their hands full, I just dropped off a new crib yesterday.”

You whistle, crossing your arms over your chest. Yoongi looks at you, eyes glittering as he smiles. It does something to you, to see your childhood crush here and happy. It’s at such odds with where you are in your life that you don’t know what to make of it. Even Jackson is married and happy with kids. 

“Impressive. You do a lot.”

He hums in agreement and stands up to stretch. “Holidays are always a demand. I’m just trying to keep up to make everyone’s Christmas magical.” You scrunch your nose at that and he frowns. “What?”

“Why does Christmas have to be extra special? It’s just another day.”

He beckons you to come around the counter and to the back as he turns to head for the swinging door. “Come on, Scrooge. Let me spread the magic of Christmas and lead you on your journey to redemption.”

Ignoring the ‘employees only’ sign on the waist-tall swing door that leads to behind the counter, you scoff and roll your eyes. Yoongi stands in the doorway leading to the back, propping it open with a foot for you. As you pass him, the bright light of his shop and the smell of wood stain and chemicals hits you instantly. 

“What do I need to redeem myself for?”

He lets the door swing shut and follows you in, taking the lead as he heads towards a table filled with goods. “For whatever you feel like you need it for.”

Yoongi’s words feel ominous and tug at your heartstrings. You suppose you do feel the need to make up for picking a fight with him. Which is why you ended up here in the first place, despite your mother’s list. 

The shop is a little different than you remember it, but some things are the same. There are giant slabs of wood to choose from in neat shelving, massive wood-cutting machines and saws with warning labels and plastic cards over serrated metal, tubs of chemicals to cleanse wood and shelves of bottles of different liquids for all of Yoongi’s processes. 

At a young age, you were never allowed back in the woodshop. The first day Old Man Min had finally let you come around the corner was just as magical as it feels now. It’s large and daunting, with all of the unfamiliar machinery and the loud hum of an air compressor near the back of the shop. 

A wireless speaker stands on a cluttered counter, blaring holiday tunes over the whine of the compressor until the machine kicks off and it’s just the echo of Grandma Got Ran Over by A Reindeer. 

“It’s weird being back here again,” you murmur, eyes sweeping the toys and pieces of furniture Yoongi has on a table with a laminated sign: children’s home. “You’re really making all of this yourself?”

“Mhmm.” He leans against the table, crossing his arms. “Someone has to. They needed extra toys this year but specifically, some serious upgrades to the rooms of the residents. I’m doing what I can, free of charge, of course.”

“You’re a saint.”

He puts his hands together in mock prayer and bats his eyes before you break out into laughter. He shrugs and murmurs, “Just someone who wants to help. They deserve good furniture year-round, but especially on the holidays.”

“Since when do you like the holidays so much?”

“Since I’ve started spending them alone.”

The answer hits you in the gut. Hard. You stop admiring the shop to look at Yoongi. There’s a soft openness to his face that unnerves you. Brutal honesty offered in exchange for nothing. No expectation for you to share, but proof that he has enough trust for you - however unearned - to just admit what he feels out loud.

That kind of introspection and understanding of self terrifies you. So instead of sharing something of yourself or offering a gentle word to communicate that you get it, or you’re sorry, you gesture to the table where he has carving knives and pieces of wood. “What are you working on?”

If your shift in conversation bothers him, he doesn’t show it. Yoongi rolls with your stilted punches, turning and walking to the table. “Working on carving some designs into the drawer faces for these nightstands I made.” 

“They’re beautiful.”

And they are. Flowers and vines curl on the edges of the wood, perfectly placed in the four corners of the slab. You reach out a hand and hesitate, looking at him to ask permission. He nods and you press your fingers along the grooves he’s carved, following the rough cuts, careful not to get a splinter. 

“You’re still artistic as hell.”

“Thanks. It’s hard on my hands and then I have to sand them all with paper to get into the small details which is hell.”

You chew the inside of your cheek. His words about redemption echo in your head: for whatever you feel like you need it for. 

“Need help?” He looks at you, surprised by your offer. You’re a little surprised too, but the way that you snapped at Yoongi haunts you and there’s something… else that is gnawing at you and has been since you saw him in your kitchen that first night on your return. “I’m serious.”

“If you want to sand some of these down…” 

You nod. “I think I remember how. Do you still keep the sandpaper in that Husky drawer?”

He gives you a crooked grin and nods. “Oooo she remembers. I’m honored.”

You feel warmth in your cheeks. “Tell me what needs to be sanded. I’ll do my best.” 

With a smile larger than what you probably deserve, Yoongi quickly rehashes how to hold the sanding paper, the technique he wants you to use, and assigns you a pile of drawer faces. With your project in front of you, Yoongi goes back to his own thing, the steady hammer against his carving tools drowning out any thoughts swirling in your mind.

At first, it’s slow going. Your shoulders are tense and you keep glancing at Yoongi, a little nervous and wondering why you offered to help. It wasn’t what you had intended to do when you walked into the store, but it feels like the best way to say sorry.

It also means you don’t have to audibly admit that you were being weird and embarrassing with him in your kitchen. 

Time passes and the tension in your shoulders begins to bleed out. The scritch scritch scritch of the sandpaper in your hands is soothing, the repetitive motions creating a soft buzz in your ears as you zone out on your task. 

Focusing on small things has always been a good thing for you. Even when you were little, having something that you could throw yourself into and let your anxieties and thoughts drift away to somewhere far away where they could not hurt you was paramount. 

Now, as the time passes without you noticing, thoughts of your cheating ex-fiance and old apartment melt away like ice on a snow drive. it’s just the pressure in your fingertips, manipulating the sandpaper into different folds to get into the creases of the design. 

Yoongi’s presence stirs your stomach and heart as you look up. He looks over your shoulder at your work before leaning in close to pick up one of the slabs of wood. He’s removed his gloves and runs his fingers over the designs. 

A shiver brushes up your spine as you zero in on Yoongi’s fingers. You have no idea if it’s your newly single status or the fact that it’s Yoongi that makes you stare open-mouthed and hypnotized. His fingers look a little callused from working wood, but you wonder how they’d feel if-

“Not bad,” he hums, giving you a grin before setting down the wood. “I’m pretty impressed. You haven’t lost your touch.”

“Please,” you mutter, looking down at the table and picking at splinters. “I helped you for hours when we were kids.”

“That’s cause I helped you with your math. It’s getting late and I’m a little tired. You hungry?”

You realize that you are. Fishing your phone out of your pocket, you flip it over to see a few texts from your mom and realize that it’s almost seven at night. A sound of surprise escapes you and Yoongi laughs, tapping your elbow gently before walking away.

“Come on,” he insists. “We close early on Sundays. Help me turn all this shit off and close up and we can get food. My treat for helping out.”

“Yes to food, but you don’t have to-”

He waves you off. “Let me do something nice for you, yeah?”

Closing the store feels oddly familiar. While you have never watched Yoongi do it as the owner and operator, there were times as a kid when you finished your homework at the woodshop counter with Yoongi while you waited for his dad to get off and take you home after school. 

The Min’s don’t live far from your home and based on your mom calling Yoongi for every little thing, you assume that he lives in his childhood home now that his dad is in a home for elders. 

Outside, the world is winter-dark and bitter cold. it’s not snowing, but it’s that dreary in-between that makes everything feel heavy and cold-wet. Yoongi shuffles you toward his truck, both of you shivering and cursing as you slide into the cab and he turns it on, cranking the heat and turning on the seat warmers.

“Nice truck,” you comment. And it is nice. “New?”

“New-ish. Being the owner of Min’s Hardware really has its perks.”

You hum. “So you do own it? Just you?”

He nods, putting the car in drive and heading toward an unknown destination. Yoongi keeps his dark eyes on the road as he says, “Bought it from the Old Man when he decided to go into a senior living facility. He’s up at Retger’s - he loves it - but he wanted to put everything in my name before his mind started slipping.”

“I see.” You pick at the hem of your jacket, something heavy settling in your stomach. “How is he?”

“Happy. They have a great staff and a lot for him to do. His memory is on the downside of things. He always remembers me but he gets confused about his days and when I last saw him or what we talked about.”

“Is that hard?”

You almost kick yourself for the question. It slips out before you can ask, and you think of course it’s fucking hard. It’s his dad.

“It is,” Yoongi admits with a drawn-out sigh. Dead air hangs between the two of you as he navigates the backroads of your home, little streets and turns stitching into your very being. “Not sure what’s worse, though,” he adds, glancing at you. “Knowing that the days are numbered and being able to prepare, or losing him suddenly.”

It’s like a constrictor squeezes your windpipe as you look out the window. You can’t see the stars through the tops of the trees, but you get a glimpse of a swollen moon for a second. It’s beautiful and bright, your new point of focus as you nod. 

“I think we can agree that losing a parent is hard,” you offer. “Doesn’t matter how much notice you had.” You hesitate, then go for it. “I haven’t really figured out how to navigate life post-dad. It’s part of why I never come home. I think… I think my mom suffers from it a little.”

For a few moments, Yoongi is silent. You sink further into the seat. Though the admission weighs heavy on you, pressing you down down down into the leather seat, it also feels… good to admit it. Like running a burn under freezing cold water, the sting poignant but soothing at the same time. 

“I think that it’s okay to have your own life.” His voice is very quiet and he looks at you sideways. “And that we all deal with grief in a manner of ways. No one begrudges you for it, least of all your mom. I think you should cut yourself some slack.”

“Hmm,” is your only reply. 

Orange parking lot lights come into view. You chuckle a bit when Yoongi turns into Mars Diner. It’s something out of a Jetson’s episode, with large metal pieces like Saturn’s tilted rings arching over the building and a sun-bleached rocket blasting into the sky.

The lot is full and through frosted windows, you can make out shapes of people in booths. A few kids hang around outside, leaning against their cars and sitting on tailgates, breath misting in the cold. 

Yoongi parks the truck and hops out. You’re quick to follow, shutting the door with a firm click and hiding your hands from the cold in your jacket pockets. The door opens and the bell dings, sound pouring out as a family deposits themself onto the sidewalk.

“Hey there Yoongi,” one of the men says, backing up to hold the door open as the two of you approach. “How’s it going?”

“Hey Scott, it’s going well. How are those new stairs treating you?”

“Sturdy as can be. Thanks again for swinging by to help out.” The man - Scott Ledgfield, you realize - looks at you and squints before he says, “Holy shit kiddo, I haven’t seen you since you were a teenager.”

You look at the town’s local pharmacist with a tight grin, immediately feeling the eyes of his family and friends turn on you, ears pricked by the sound of someone old-but-new returning to the neighborhood. You give a small wave to the people you know.

“Uh,” you stammer. “Just got back. It’s nice to see you, Mr. Ledgefield.”

Your mom’s friend opens his mouth to perhaps ask more but Yoongi shuffles you toward the door and throws a hand in a farewell wave. “Jin will kill us if we keep this damn door open.”

Just as you step into the restaurant in full,  the door clanging shut behind you, a familiar voice hollers behind the counter. “Yoongi, don’t keep that damn door open!”

Inside the diner is exactly how you remember it. A round kitchen sits at the core of the building with two large serving windows facing the door. A full, 360-serving counter circles the kitchen with red vinyl stools in front of them, and booths with planet chandeliers over them are full of people looking over laminated menus.

At the helm of it all is Kim Seokjin standing at the register as he rips a receipt out of the machine, grinning as he hands it over to the woman he’s ringing out. There’s a chrome-color apron tied around his waist and he has a rocket ship name tag that says: Captain Kim.

“Wow,” you mutter as Yoongi waits patiently for the couple in front of him to pay. “Jin running this place with his parents now?”

“Mhmm. Kim Senior is in the back still making everything and his mom does all the billing and admin now. Jin does… well, what doesn’t he do?”

“Yes,” Seokjin agrees as the couple leaves and he leans on the counter, a plastic grin on his face. “What don’t I do?” His eyes slide to you. “Huh. I heard you were coming back to town and thought they were bullshitting me.”

“Who is they?” 

He waves his hand, before telling another server to jump on the register before he opens a swinging piece of counter open with his hip. “You know, the collective they everyone uses when they’re referencing the entire town.”

“I see.”

Seokjin looks the same as he did in college - broad shoulders, narrow waist, beautiful face and dark eyes that shine with trouble or mirth, depending on who you ask. He gestures to you and Yoongi to follow and you do, heading to the back corner near a frosted window that still has plates and baskets on the table.

“How have you been?” Seokjin asks as he begins collecting the previous diners' things. “Didn’t think I’d ever see you back here.”

“I’m okay. I think it’s just temporary, I haven't worked it out yet.”

“Hmm, we always say it’s temporary and now look at us - Yoongi is running Min’s and I’m one burnt hash brown from being spatula’d by a customer.” 

The vinyl covering sticks to your jeans as you try to slide. You’re forced to hop your way into the booth as Seokjin places the dirty plates and dishes on a round platter and grabs a bottle of cleaner from behind Yoongi’s side of the booth.

“Well,” you venture awkwardly. “There’s nothing wrong with being home, right?”

“No,” he agrees and gives you a look that you can’t read. “There’s not.”

Awkward silence hangs in the air at his tone. You chew on your lip and can’t help but feel like somehow you’ve offended him. You weren’t really friends with Seokjin growing up, but he was a friend of friends, and you knew him well enough to attend birthday parties growing up.

Now, you reach for a menu and busy yourself with it as Yoongi clears his throat and asks how business has been with the holiday only a few days away. Seokjin’s tone with you melts away as he answers Yoongi’s question, slinging a towel over his shoulder while chatting. 

A girl who looks in her late teens comes over with an order sheet and pen, sending Seokjin back toward the register where someone has a gift card that no one knows how to ring up. He leaves with a roll of his eyes as the server takes your order before scurrying away.

“Don’t let Jin make you feel weird,” Yoongi says airly, looking over the menu. The dim light from Saturn and Uranus reflect in his dark eyes when you peek at him over your menu. “He thinks you have a chip on your shoulder.”

You smack the table with your menu. “Why on earth does he think that?”

“Have some respect for the decor. We’re not on earth, we’re in space.”

“Yoongi.” 

“Look,” he sighs, putting his menu down. “When you graduated, you were very hellbent on letting everyone know that you didn’t want to come back. Then you got a very nice job in the city, and did just that and never turned back. Which is fine, I respect the hell out of you for it. But you didn’t talk to anyone, and now that you’re back under… whatever circumstances, you act like being here is going to hurt your reputation.”

“I’ve barely seen anyone while I’ve been here.”

“It’s… the posture and the way you look at everyone.” You frown and he grins, reaching over the table to poke the space between your eyebrows. “It’s that,” He insists. “You look at everyone with a very intense scowl and like you have better things to do. That’s all.”

“Do you think that?”

“Nope.”

“Really?”

He looks up at you, expression soft. “I think a lot of things about you. Having a chip on your shoulder isn’t one of them.”

Before you can unravel the weight of his words and the rush of something you feel in response, the server returns with your glass of hard cider and Yoongi’s dark beer. You mull over his thoughts while he places his order and you rattle off your favorite, which you’re pleased to see is still on the menu. 

Quiet settles over the booth as you sip your drink, averting your gaze. He thinks you have a chip on your shoulder. 

When you think about it, you realize that you sort of do. 

Back when you had graduated high school and went to college just an hour away, you swore you wouldn’t go back and take up a job just to stay close to family and what you always knew. Coming from a small town, you felt like you had yet to see the world or experience anything real.

Even in college, it always felt like you were too close. All the same kids you went to high school with became your apartment neighbors and your university classmates, and everyone went to the same parties and fucked the same people.

It was like watching high school repeat all over again. Bringing home drama from college to the holidays, and then hearing what so-and-so did while they were home from school. 

The thought of ever coming back was suffocating. So you took the first job you found that felt like it was lightyears away, stuck right in the middle of corporate America in a screaming city that you could hardly sleep in for the first few months because you were overwhelmed and a little afraid.

City life had become addicting though, and seeing all your little hometown friends go back to mom-and-pop jobs while you climbed the corporate ladder, got engaged and sent really nice presents home as an apology for going to Aspen for Christmas instead of seeing your parents felt powerful and liberating. 

And then your dad died on Christmas. While you were out with friends at a resort. That had been the first blow, the first reason to start thinking that the holidays weren’t for being cheerful, or for celebrating or for… anything, really. 

With that mindset, you spent the next Christmas with your fiance tucked away in your apartment, just the two of you. It had been your anti-Christmas, doing everything that was the opposite. You watched horror movies and ate popsicles, you decorated your house for Halloween and Valentine's day, you did everything possible to forget that you weren’t home opening presents with your parents - no just your mom now - and it worked. 

Now, you’re sitting in your hometown diner across the table from the one person who has always been the exception to the rule, with Christmas music blaring over the speakers and every person wishing you a happy holiday that walks by the table. 

A pit opens up inside of your stomach as you stare at the bubbles rushing to the top of your cider. The same, nasty feeling that made you snap at Yoongi in the kitchen rises up instead of you, a hydra ready to grow more heads and become an untamable beast.

“Where did you wander off to?” Yoongi’s question startles you from your thoughts and you look up at him. “You were so caught up I thought you might make your cider explode like Professor X.”

You laugh, surprising yourself. “Did you just make an X-Men reference?”

“Yeah, I still like comics, okay?”

You hum. “I was thinking that…” You take a large swig of your cider to press the tightness in your throat back. “I was thinking that maybe I do have a chip on my shoulder. I just… the holidays honestly bring out the worst in me, and I think I was already sour about being home.”

Like your admission of guilt on the way over, you feel lighter admitting your thoughts to Yoongi. There’s a pause in the conversation as your server puts down a burger in front of him and your chicken sandwich in front of you. 

“I think,” Yoongi says slowly as he pops a fry in his mouth and chews thoughtfully. “That it’s really easy for the people here to write off anyone who dares to do a little bit better than what they grew up with. For people like Jin, he always knew he’d come back home. I think it’s equal parts jealousy and wanting respect.”

“I don’t mean to make anyone feel disrespected,” you murmur. “Honestly, my distaste for coming home is more to do with the time of year than anything.”

“How so?”

Between bites of your dinner, you tell Yoongi about how your holidays have been over the last few years. How you stopped going home for them because it felt suffocating to be in a house with parents who didn’t understand anything about your love for being somewhere far away. How you stopped going home because if you stayed away with your friends and coworkers, you didn’t have to see how much they missed you.

All this time, you’d been running from guilt. Especially after the passing of your father. Even the sound of holiday music and the pressure to make plans to visit and buy gifts for people you were now somewhat unfamiliar with was enough anxiety to make the thought of Christmas and all of its bullshit unbearable. 

Once your dad died, the thought of the holiday season was even worse. It meant going home and crying on Christmas because it was just you and your mom. It meant getting thinking of your pity text messages instead of well wishes and happy holidays. It meant forgetting a pair of scissors to open gifts because that was your dad’s job, and it meant that there was an inescapable void in your home. 

Yoongi settles against the booth, looking at you with sad eyes. But what’s more, there is empathy there. Understanding. You don’t feel pitied or judged by Yoongi and the relief that washes over you as you spill your guts out at your favorite dinner is overwhelming.

You get another round of cider and you tell him about your cheating ex. How you were kicked from the apartment that hadn’t been yours from the start. How it’s one more negative feeling associated with Christmas, and how it was forcing you to go back to a place you wanted to see least of all, during a time you hated. How you… didn’t even care so much that the relationship was over. That you were just angry about having to find somewhere else to live and a little embarrassed that everyone saw it coming but you.

Sipping his beer, Yoongi sighs. “I’m going to say something that I want you to consider, and not take personally.”

You push around a cold french fry on your plate. “No promises.”

His smile is fleeting. “The holidays didn’t steal these things from you.” 

The words hang heavy in the air between the two of you. 

Elsewhere, the music has turned down a bit. It’s getting later and the dinner rush has faded to a soft hum in the background. The bell on the door chimes less and there are more empty booths than there are full. Seokjin disappears to the back for a much-earned break. 

It’s a simple concept that Yoongi has given you and yet you want to fight him on it. 

The holidays didn’t steal these things from you. Well no, they hadn’t. But it seemed that your bad luck was recurring, cycling back at the same time every year. Doomed to make your dread stronger and stronger with each passing Christmas. 

“That might be true,” you admit. “But it’s not like I’m the only person who hates the holidays. I mean, at least I have a reason and it’s not some sort of anti-corporate America speel.” He opens his mouth but you cut him off. “Which, by the way, is a very valid point. Hallmark makes all of its money on being a Christmas vampire feeding off the people like me who have trouble going home for the holidays. Except I reject it.”

“There is another alternative.” 

“And what’s that?”

“Embrace that life fucking sucks but eventually we can figure it out. If we want to and if we have the means.”

“What if we don’t have the means?”

Yoongi gives you a severe look. “Does your insurance cover therapy?” You nod. “Good, you have the means. If healing from this anxiety and guilt is something you’re interested in. Come on, I want dessert.” 

-

Later that night, when you have had an overwhelming amount of fudge and talked to Yoongi about anything and everything that doesn’t involve Christmas or any of the horrible feelings you’ve spilled to him all day long, you lay in bed flicking through your phone on one hand while you hold a thin, plastic card in another.

Squinting as the phone brightness increases when a new webpage is loaded, you manage to find what you’re looking for, typing in your insurance information and answering a few questions before you hit send. 

Once done, you set the phone on the nightstand and settle in your bed, heart pounding as you stare up at the ceiling and wonder how fast you’ll hear back on a request for a therapy consultation. 

All the while, Yoongi’s words circle round and round in your mind: Embrace the fact that life fucking sucks, but eventually we can figure it out. 

You roll on your side and squeeze your eyes shut and dare to hope that maybe Yoongi is right.

-

A routine nestles its way into your life before you’re aware of it. You get up and go downstairs for breakfast.

Once in the dining room, you have breakfast with your mom, trying not to get queasy over the fact that your dad’s chair remains empty at the head of the table. Sometimes, Yoongi is there in the morning and has breakfast with the two of you. Those days are much easier to fill the silence.

After breakfast, you shower and pick through your belongings, trying to rearrange your old room and make it somewhat adaptable to the lifestyle you had at your apartment. Adjusting to the fact that your mom is up at six in the morning on the dot and is ready for lunch by eleven nearly drives you to the edge, but you manage.

Most days you find yourself wandering to the back of Min’s Hardware and asking if Yoongi needs help. He always seems surprised to see you back, no matter how many days in a row you find yourself there, chewing on the corner of your lip. 

The silence that comes with helping Yoongi has become an addiction. You notice that he no longer plays Christmas music in the shop when you’re around, opting for just general pop. You’re both thankful and a little embarrassed, but you say nothing as he gives you projects to sand or stain. 

When you’re both tired and your fingers are cramping and worse for wear, you break for lunch. Sometimes you go to your house where your mom has fixed you both a meal. Other times, you pop by the diner where Seokjin gives you lunch on the house.

Seokjin comes around, the more he sees you with Yoongi. You’re still a little extra nice around him, trying to prove that you don’t think you’re better than him. You just… don’t know how to be him. Don’t know how to settle into life like everyone else so easily has. 

It’s two weeks in that Yoongi upends your carefully crafted routine by leaning against your workstation - you don’t know when it became yours - and says, “What are you doing for Christmas Eve? I know your mom is volunteering and she said you weren’t but I don’t want to assume you’re… not doing anything.”

Today, Yoongi is in a green sweater and jeans, the sleeves of his shirt wrapped around his hands as he works. His hair is unstyled, showing just how long it’s gotten. It’s darker at the root where his natural color grows in, but even so, he looks beautiful as ever. Unsettlingly beautiful. The kind that makes you a little shy when he puts his full attention on you these days, especially when he shows you how to do something by gently touching your elbow or your wrist. 

“Ummm.” You race to think of a response, but the words are sticky in your brain with his proximity. Usually, he does his own things, but every time Yoongi comes close these days, your brain gets a little out of sorts. “I was going to do like my little anti-Christmas thing and watch Halloweentown, I guess.”

“Maybe one day I’ll join you on that. For now, I wanted to see if you wanted to um - join me.”

“Join you what?”

He presses his lips flat and raises his brow at the poorly articulated question. “For Christmas Eve. It isn’t very exciting or anything, but I usually have dinner at the home with my dad. They make a great honey ham and then Seokjin has a party at his house after everyone leaves their family dinners. Alcohol is encouraged.”

“Oh.” You blink once. Twice. “You want me to have dinner with you and your dad?”

Blossom-pink blush spreads over Yoongi’s cheek and nose. You chew your bottom lip as you watch him. He doesn’t meet your eyes as he picks at stray splinters on the table. “I just thought maybe you didn’t want to be alone.”

Yoongi’s words from a few days ago echo in your mind when you asked when he started being such a fan of the holidays: when I started spending them alone. 

The thought of spending time with Yoongi with his dad, tucked into a corner of an elderly home with cheesy holiday decorations and staff that talks too gently, and putting on a show for those who feel alone and sad is dizzying. It terrifies you. It makes you want to run. 

Which is why you swallow past the stone in your throat and say, “Um. Sure. Yes. I would like to go with you.” 

He bites his bottom lip, trying to fight a smile. You clench all over, seizing up at how cute he is when he does that. “Really?”

“Yeah, Min. Really.”

“Wow, you haven’t called me Min in… a min.”

“God that was so cheesy.”

“Mhmm. We’re closed tomorrow because I’m helping out at the children’s home but I’ll pick you up at five Saturday. They serve dinner really early there.”

“Okay.” 

Yoongi grins, all gums and round cheeks and shining eyes and for a moment, you forget that you’re supposed to be heartbroken and sour and pitiful. His smile stops everything and you immediately want to say something clever to make him do it again.

Instead, you just nod awkwardly and say, “Okay.”

-

Piles and piles of clothes litter your floor as you yank on an oversized peacoat and rush to the bathroom to check your outfit. You’ve been through at least fifteen different combinations and messed up your neatly place hair, and you still are unsure what the fuck you’re supposed to wear to a Christmas Eve dinner at an elderly home with the Mins.

You are very out of your depth.

When your phone dings and you see that Yoongi has arrived to get you, you scream in frustration and decide that wide-leg jeans paired with black combat boots, a black turtleneck and an oversized coat will have to do. It’s something you would have worn back in the city, but you’re unsure if it’s a little too casual for this.

Outside, the wind snaps against your face, stinging your nose and lips. You fight the urge to lick your lips and remove the very faint, pink lip stain there as you rush to the truck where Yoongi waves enthusiastically. 

Yoongi’s gummy grin warms you more than the heated interior of the cab when you jump into the passenger seat, shuffling the crinkling gift back in your lap as you shiver and stick your hands in front of the air vents to warm them. 

“You look nice,” Yoongi says as a greeting, putting the truck in reverse and looking in his mirrors. “What’s the gift?”

“Um-” Embarrassment heats your cheeks immediately. “I uh, got your dad something? I felt sort of weird showing up without a gift. I don’t know. Is that stupid? I can leave it-”

Your name is soft on his lips as he pauses in the middle of the street to look at you. You stop your rambling, staring at him. His eyes are dark pools, glittering in the dying afternoon sun as he smiles at you. His hair is shaggy again today like he air-dried it and the tawny colored coat makes his hair even more vibrant. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” Yoongi says gently, smiling. His lips look soft and pink today - well they always look like that, but you notice a little extra today. “That’s not stupid. It’s incredibly kind.”

“It’s - um - I know he used to really love reading all those mythology books and he was fond of the stuff with Odin and Thor? So I got him a Norse mythology one? It had a cool tree on it.”

For a few moments, Yoongi stares at you, unblinking. The truck is in drive, but he has his foot on the brake so it just sits in front of your house collecting little bits of snow. The weight of his gaze threatens to make you melt into the seat. You drop your gaze to the red and green package in your lap, trying to figure out how to explain that the idea was dumb.

“You are incredibly thoughtful.” Yoongi’s voice is so soft you’re almost sure you imagined him speaking at all. You glance up and he has a look you can’t unpack on his face, but it’s something like fondness, perhaps. “He will absolutely love that. I got him an Egyptian one.” 

“Are you sure?”

Yoongi takes a hand off the wheel and reaches over the center console to squeeze your hand where it’s gripped tight on the present. His fingers are calloused and rough from the years in the shop, but his touch is soft. Reverent. Your hand feels like it’s tingling even after he lets go and says, “I promise. Thank you. It’ll mean a lot to him, but it means even more to me.”

Still a little nervous and dizzy from the simple touch of his hand, you nod. 

Finally, Yoongi pulls into the road and starts driving, quiet as his eyes focus on navigating to the center of town. Music plays softly in the background and you glance out the slightly frosted window. 

Outside, families unpack themselves from cars, hurrying in bundles of jackets and loaded with presents to the doorsteps that are cast open for other family members and friends to help them in. Your heart squeezes at the thought and you look away from all of the houses and lights, instead focusing on the lines painted on the road. 

It feels like forever ago it was your family casting open your doors to house Christmas Eve with your extended family. But your uncle and his wife had long since moved away, and their kids had their own kids to celebrate with, and though the invitation was probably there for you and your mom to visit, it felt weird being with your dad's family when your dad was… not around. 

“Dad may or may not remember you,” Yoongi hums as he drives. “I think he will because he’s good about people from the past, but he might not get your name right. I don’t correct him because it can confuse and frustrate him, so just go with whatever if you can.”

“Of course. I’ll just follow your lead.”

From the corner of your eye, you can see that he drives with one hand on the wheel, one hand hanging off the center console where he leans on his elbow. “He has a little trouble with train of thought, just let him get it out. He hates when you try and finish sentences for him.”

You smile. “He’s always hated that. You were the most impatient son ever.” 

“Well, practice has made perfect. I’m a changed man.”

“Uh-huh.”

The home is covered in holiday decor as you expected. Cars line the lot of what would look like apartment buildings if the sign out front didn’t indicate that it was a senior living center. Honestly, they look better than most of the apartments you’ve had in the city, a single reminder that everything is so much more affordable when you step out of your self-made comfort zone.

Ice and snow crunch beneath your boots in the parking lot. The two of you hurry along, shivering and laughing in the cold. Yoongi surprises you when he pulls you in by the waist, pressing you to his side to walk in a quick, albeit warmer, huddle to the main building. 

Warmth hits you in the face and melts back the cold as you step inside, a shiver racking up your spine. There’s a massive Christmas tree in the lobby with a ‘donated’ sign in the front thanking a local company for the tree, and there are hand-crafted ornaments that from another sign, inform you they were made by the children in the orphanage on the other side of town.

Christmas music tinkles lightly overhead as Yoongi leads you to a counter where a woman with a Christmas vest and a bright smile greets him enthusiastically. It’s obvious that she’s familiar with him as she rattles off how his dad has been doing, scribbling his name on a tag with a candy cane heart and handing it over to him. 

Tag in hand, Yoongi awkwardly shuffles to the side to reveal you to the woman behind the desk, whose name tag says Esther. Her eyes go round and her mouth forms a small ‘o’ when she sees you, surprised that Yoongi has brought a guest. You hate to admit that you feel a little pleased if it’s not common for him to bring other people here. 

Ignoring that, you give her your name and she hesitates, glancing at Yoongi. He nods his head with a tiny frown before she scribbles your name onto the tag and hands it over to you, an unreadable expression now on her face. 

“Enjoy.”

Sticking the tag on your jacket, you glance at Yoongi as he leads the way toward the common room where they’re having dinner. “Well, I don’t think she likes me.”

He hums noncommittally and you say nothing more, following his twists and turns until you’re in a large common area nearly bursting at the seams with Feliz Navidad and tinsel. There are people of varying ages inside sitting around pop-up round tables and folding chairs. Red and green plastic table clothes cover the tables, little gift-wrapped boxes act as centerpieces. There’s another tree donated in the corner by Min’s, making you poke Yoongi’s side and gesture to the tree.

Shy, Yoongi shrugs and scurries away from you, spotting his dad sitting on a sectional looking up at the glittering tree. You hesitate to follow, a little lost as you watch Yoongi call his dad’s name gently, catching his attention. They look so much alike that it’s dizzying to watch as his dad stands up, bringing Yoongi into a tight hug.

You clench your jaw, willing the sudden burning in your eyes to go away. You feel your palms sweat and your throat constricts, making you look away from them as they hold each other by the shoulders, exchanging greetings that you can’t hear from the middle of the room.

All around you are people with their moms and dads. The room is crushed with holiday cheer, held hands, kisses on cheeks and tight hugs. You start to realize this was a terrible idea, excuses and ways to leave flipping through your mind like a Rolodex when Yoongi calls your name. 

Turning to face them, you feel like a deer in headlights. Eyes wide, mouth agape, frame tense. Yoongi gives you a nod as he leads his dad to you. Old Man Min walks well enough, and is a little shorter than Yoongi with peppered hair, kind eyes and a knitted scarf that looks like something perhaps your mom made. 

“You look just like your father!” His dad greets, throwing open his arms when he sees you. Your stomach drops to your ass at the declaration, but you force a smile, bending down a bit to hug him quickly. “I haven’t seen you since… I last saw you!”

That makes you laugh. “It’s nice to see you.”

“I’m just glad Yoongi finally brought you! I’ve been asking to see his girlfriend for two weeks!”

“Dad,” Yoongi admonishes giving you an apologetic look. “She’s… not.” 

Old Man Min waves him off as he heads towards the serving line where there is an array of holiday-themed catered food. “I’m starving. I’ve been waiting here all damned afternoon!”

“Sorry,” Yoongi whispers as he goes by you, upping his pace to keep up with his dad who has his sights set on food. “He does remember you very well, by the way.”

Ignoring hot coal burning in the pit of your stomach at the comparison to your father, you shuffle in line behind Yoongi. All of the workers behind the table serving recognize him immediately, brightening and greeting him with dazzling smiles and heart eyes. 

Next to him, you raise your brows and watch as he shyly interacts with them all, answering the same questions over and over and thanking them for putting on a wonderful dinner. They bask in the shower of his praise until he leans over to you and insists you get the mac and cheese. Yoongi doesn’t notice the shift, but you do, the staff immediately stiffens and goes quiet when they see you interact.

At a table tucked in the corner for just the three of you, you dig into your meal, answering all of Old Man Min’s questions he throws your way. They’re easy to answer: what do you do now, how is your mom, when did you come back. Some of the questions he repeats on accident or drifts off when asking, but you don’t mind, chewing around mac and cheese and waiting for him to get it out, or repeating your answer with the same vigor as before.

Yoongi seems nervous at first, neglecting his food to look back and forth between the two of you. You nudge him gently under the table and his dark eyes fall on you. You give him a face, trying to convey that you’re okay and he grins sheepishly, looking down at his meal and deciding it’s safe enough to start eating. 

“So how did my son finally start dating you?” his dad demands, sipping his sweet tea. “I thought he would finally ask you out in high school and then… uh college, but he never did!”

“Dad,” Yoongi starts gently, but you’re quick to cut him off, touching Yoongi’s arm gently as you smile at his dad. “Recently,” you explain. You glance at Yoongi with narrowed eyes. “Didn’t know he had a crush on me in high school, though.”

“Ha! Of course he did! Why do you think he always wanted you over at the shop? Sure were over there than uh… what’s that girl's name? Jan’s daughter.”

“Jessa,” Yoongi offers softly, not meeting anyone’s eye as he becomes interested in pushing honeyed ham around his plate. “Dad you’re embarrassing me.”

“Yeah, Jenna! She was never at the shop nearly as much as you. Nice girl, not you though.” He stabs a piece of ham and shakes his head. “Always knew you’d be the one. Your dad and I were always sure of it.” 

Yoongi tenses but you smile at Old Man Min. “Really?” 

“Mhmm. Your dad was a hell of a guy! I remember back when we were in high school…”

Yoongi’s dad launches into a tale of when he and your father were kids and you’re shocked to discover that the unsettling feeling in your stomach starts to fade. You listen, chin in your palm and elbow propped on the table as you sip on cider to the adventures of your dad in his youth. 

The wound stings a little but… it’s bearable. And it’s nice, to see Yoongi’s dad come alive and recall so many things from his own childhood. The color on Yoongi’s face and the way he keeps trying to hide his smile in the collar of his jacket says everything about how pleased he is to see his dad happy and healthy. 

Almost without thinking, you reach over under the table and take Yoongi’s hand, giving it a squeeze. He looks up at you, brows raised. You can’t help but smile, really glad that he brought you here. Somehow, it is exactly what you needed. 

Yoongi squeezes your hand back, making your heart pick up. As you start to pull away, he snatches your hand back, lacing your fingers and squeezing. You stare at him, surprised and flustered and feeling a little breathless as he settles in his chair, refusing to look at you as he holds your hand in his lap, engrossed in the tale his father is weaving. 

With a nervous exhale, you lean back in your chair, content with the warmth of his hand and whatever the hell sparks with his touch.

-

Seokjin is very drunk and very happy to see you when he throws open the front door to his incredibly nice home in the new, gated community just beyond your old high school. The two-story home is full of warmth, people from your high school and college, and a lot of booze. 

Immediately you’re uneasy, smiling awkwardly at the shocked faces of your old peers. Yoongi is heedless, though, keeping a hand on yours as he leads you through the party. You’re distracted by the firmness of his hold on you, the way it makes your head spin, the way that you don’t know what holding his hand means, but it’s nice. 

And then you’re in the kitchen, pressed close to his side as you field questions from old friends that aren’t as much friends as they are nosy people from your past. No one asks about your handholding, but the way they glance down to where Yoongi has your fingers laced with his is enough to know it’s all anyone is going to talk about in whispered circles and for the next two weeks. 

If Yoongi is bothered by this, he doesn’t show it. You however, are very in your head. The loose, happy feeling you had at dinner with his dad is replaced with stiff movements, quiet murmurs of hellos and asking how are you to people you don’t really care about, and cringing when a group of people pass by caroling room to room.

Yoongi senses the way you freeze up, the way you press yourself into the pantry as though you could melt into the wood and remain unseen. He tugs you toward a glass sliding door where there is a patio filled with smokers, all of them shivering and breathing smoke and steamed breath into the string lighting. 

Going past them, Yoongi tugs you down into the back of the yard and to a gate. People whistle behind you and Yoongi throws a middle finger over his head, uncaring. He throws the latch and squeezes through the gate, so you follow. 

Behind Seokjin’s house is a lake with a lit fountain, frozen and off for the winter season. He trudges toward it and sits down on damp grass, patting the spot next to him. Tentatively, you sit down and look over at him. 

“Sorry.” His breath fogs in the cold. “I didn’t think about how shitty that might feel for you before inviting you.”

“It’s okay. I just… don’t really know how to answer their questions.”

“What do you mean?”

You pull at frozen grass to distract yourself from having to look at him. “I mean, I just broke up with my fiance a few weeks ago because I caught them cheating and now I show up to a party where everyone thinks I’m a stuck up holding your hand.”

“Not everyone thinks that.” You give him a look and he amends, “Okay, a lot of people do but not everyone.” 

“Great.”

“If they saw you the way I do, they definitely wouldn’t think that.” You shoot him a questioning look as your heart beats a little bit faster. Your nerves start to tingle as you watch him figure out how to phrase what comes next. “You have no idea how nice it was to have you with me tonight. I’ve been doing that alone for years and I love spending time with my dad, but having someone else there to take the pressure off and to see him happy was… fuck it was really nice.”

The icy core around your heart that began to scrape itself together once you entered the party melts just a little bit. You chew on the inside of your cheek, unsure what to say. Thankfully, Yoongi continues. “I know you don’t like the holidays because it reminds you of being home and everything you want to get away from, and of the bad things that happened to you. I didn’t like them for… fuck, for years.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. They sucked without my mom, but it wasn’t so bad because we’d come to spend time with you guys or go over to the Kims. My dad made it work, and even though it felt like a fucking gut punch those first few years after my mom died, I sort of adjusted.”

“And then?”

He sighs heavily, looking up at the moon. “And then dad’s old age happened. The man you got tonight was… man, it was good. He was great tonight, happy and present and vibrant. It’s not always like that though - it’s usually not. There are a lot of times when he might forget my mom is gone or might forget that he sold the shop to me and thinks he has to go to work and… it was really hard at first. Trying to make that adjustment.”

“You’re so patient, though.”

“I wasn’t always. Around the holidays I was trying to run the shop and visit him so he wouldn’t feel alone and deal with my own grief about how fucking alone everything felt. There wasn’t anyone to relate to and I was just…” Yoongi shrugs and runs a hand over his brow. “Honestly, I wasn’t very nice for a bit. It was really frustrating to learn new ways to talk to him and I just… hated everyone.”

Fuck you know how it feels. You look at Yoongi as he stares out at the frozen lake. You would never guess that Yoongi, who makes so many different things in his spare time for the holidays could be mean. Yoongi, who eats something different every time you go to Jin’s diner. Yoongi, who chased a stray cat around your backyard until he could bring it in and warm it up inside before taking it over to the shelter. Yoongi who has been unwaveringly kind, and invited you to Christmas Eve dinner so you wouldn’t be alone. 

When you were teens, you could have bought that story. He had always been a little standoffish and hard around the edges. You were always in his inner circle, a rare witness to the way that he could melt for the people that he cared about. But the Yoongi of now does not seem like someone who hates the world like Yoongi of then had the potential to - and did.

It doesn’t make sense, this Yoongi that he talks about in the past and the Yoongi that you see in front of you. The Yoongi in front of you is gentle, kind, and soft with those around him. He never raises his voice, he is gentle with customers, and he often pulls more weight than he should at his own store to take the pressure off his employees.

“What changed, then?” you ask, desperately seeking an answer. In him, you see what you want to be. The calmness, the confidence in who he is and what he’s doing. He’s not drowning in his grief, or trying to reconcile a cacophony of feelings. At least, it doesn’t seem like it. 

“Therapy, for starters,” he laughs and gives you a look as he lays back in the grass. You join him, feeling the cold sink into your coat, but you don’t care. You like laying here with him under a blanket of frozen stars with the muted sounds of the party just beyond the wooden gate.

He continues, “But also a lot of introspection and a lot of self-hate. This version you have of me now? It’s gone through a lot of pain and suffering and reconciling with myself. It’s not an easy process, but it is worth it. And it started with me not blaming Christmas for things  that were just… beyond my control.”

“Fuck, so I have to apologize to Santa? I’m not even religious.”

Yoongi’s breath turns to fog as he laughs. You watch the way his eyes crinkle, shining with mirth under the gray light of the moon. He glows under the night sky – cheeks frozen-blush, lips chapped a little from the winter wind, nose cherry read. Droplets of dew cling to his long hair, a crown of diamonds on a prince spun from moonbeams.

At least, that’s what it feels like as you watch his laughter settle. Yoongi smiles up at the sky and that tight feeling constricts in your chest again. This version of him is so much softer than the teenager you remember. Warm at the edges, melted with a lifetime of experiences that have thawed that hard exterior.

Something like envy slithers through you. Envy that Yoongi has long healed from his hurts. That he seems to have settled here he is now, in happiness and knowing his path. He doesn’t have everything but he has enough, and as he turns to look at you, dark eyes sparkling, you can’t help but avert your gaze.

You don’t want him to see the inside of you.

“It’s more about Christmas as a concept,” Yoongi sighs, looking back up at the sky. Marshmallow clouds drift across a midnight canvas. You can only make out the brightest of stars here, the light pollution dimming the effect. “I’m not religious either, but the effect that the holidays can have on people is touching. Heartwarming. People love others a little extra.”

“Yeah, well they should do that year-round.”

“Small steps, small steps. Maybe it’s an open conversation at a dinner, or maybe it’s someone seeing family they haven't seen in a while. There are so many opportunities for love and warmth and chances to open your heart.”

“You sound like a Hallmark commercial.”

“Make fun of me all you want,” he chuckles. “I know it sounds idealistic and a little bit naïve. But I’ve experienced too much sadness to keep thinking that’s all there is, and I’ve seen people’s lives change around the holidays. It’s special.”

You hum. “Why wait until the end of the year for all of that so-called happiness, then?”

“Life is hard - like really fucking hard. Sometimes when the end of the year is staring you right in the face, or when you're realizing it may be your last Christmas with an aging loved one is the push people need to brave that first step to being happy.”

“You’re celebrating procrastination.”

Yoongi sighs. He rolls over on his side and props his head up with his hand. You feel a flush of warmth curl through you under the weight of his full attention. Suddenly the cold hard ground you’ve opted to lay on doesn’t feel so bad.

“I’m celebrating people being moved to do something.” His tone is gentle. You glance at him from the corner of your eye. He seems thoughtful, bottom lip tucked between his teeth. “I’m celebrating that sometimes the holidays are the worst time for people. But something small will happen to make them feel even a moment of happiness. Just one small second of relief from the fucking madness.”

You think about everything that’s happened in the last few weeks. A tightness constricts your throat and you try to swallow past it. It takes you a few moments, but you imagine what it would be like to have just a fucking second to catch your breath. To have a moment of pure, unfiltered happiness.

“I just…” Yoongi’s voice is barely above a whisper. “I want people to be happy. And it feels like maybe this time of year has more potential than most. So that’s what I celebrate. Not the gift and the capitalism and the hypocrisy of it all. But the little seconds in between.”

A long, slow breath of air leaves you. You watch it steam and curl toward the sky before fading. “Well, Yoongi. I wish I was nearly as optimistic.”

“Maybe you can be.” You glance at him and see him smiling. “Just give me a chance to persuade you, yeah? My work seems to be paying off so far.”

“It is. I have an appointment to talk to a therapist in three weeks. It’s just an introductory thing, but…”

“That’s great, honestly. I don’t want to say I’m proud of you because that’s pretentious and you’re not doing this for me, but I really hope it helps.” Silence settles between you. It isn’t uncomfortable, but you are cold, despite the warmth that blooms when he studies your face. “Wanna go inside and drink a fuck ton of wine and then Irish exit?”

“Fuck yeah,” you laugh, letting him help you to your feet. 

Back inside of the party, you do just that. Yoongi plies you with sweet, red wine until there’s a cotton-soft buzz in your body. You’re a little bit nicer to people who still whisper when you walk by, and you even let Seokjin drag you into a single karaoke performance of Baby It’s Cold Outside. 

It’s already embarrassing to show how horrible you are at singing, but to make matters worse, you cannot stop glancing over at Yoongi who leans against the wall of the living room, a plastic wine up in his hand, dark eyes focused only on you. 

Heat pools in your lower stomach at his gaze, watching it darken by the minute. You do not miss when Jessa - who Old Man Min has dubbed Jenna - approaches Yoongi tentatively. And yet he is dismissive, the overly-warm and kind exterior replaced with something sharper. Hungrier. 

And his focus is entirely on you.

When you finish the song and wander over to him, breathless, he keeps his eyes pinned on you. Fathomless pools that draw you in until you feel like you’re falling falling falling, weightless and breathless. No one has ever looked at you like that. Not even your fiance. 

“What?” you ask, voice shaking as you lean against the wall, face tilted up toward him. You feel warm and wine-slow all over, limbs heavy and comfortable. Your lashes flutter when you slow blink at him. His lips are stained red from wine. “Why are you looking at me that way?”

“What way?”

Embolden by sweet wine, your talk on the lawn and your innocent hand holding, you huff. “In a way that makes me want to be stupid and kiss you.”

“That would make you stupid?”

You drop your gaze and press the rim of your plastic cup to your lips. “I don’t know,” you admit. “I kind of want to do it, but I don’t… know?”

His voice is lower and deeper, soft against your sense as he leans in a little. “So you want to kiss me?” You nod. “But you don’t know if you want to kiss me?”

“I don’t want you to think it’s… I haven’t been single for long. I don’t want you to think that of me. It isn’t because of that. I’ve wanted to for like years and - yeah.”

“I already told you. I think a lot of things of you. That isn’t one.” His gaze flickers around the party. You don’t realize how close he is until he turns back to you, warm breath fanning against your head. “How about we do our exit now and talk about that kiss where there’s not so many eyes, hmm?”

Mutely, you nod at him. Now you definitely want to kiss Yoongi. He’s gone from the soft, gummy-grin man full of holiday cheer to a darker, calm version of himself that is new. Confident. And quite frankly toe-curling. 

Yoongi wraps his fingers around yours and leads you to the exit, saying nothing to anyone that you pass by. Then you’re out in the cold and he’s unlocking the truck, popping open your door and pulling you toward it.

“Are you okay to drive?”

“Very,” he promises, voice raspy. “I only live across the stoplight, remember?” 

“Ohhh.” You get into the passenger seat, leaning your head on it and looking at Yoongi, who is momentarily propped against your door. “You’re taking me home?”

He leans forward, eyes dropping to your mouth as he mutters, “Uh-huh.”

And then he’s kissing you and the entire world fades into the background.

Yoongi’s lips are just as soft as you imagined. You sink into the kiss, leaning forward into the heavenly press of his mouth. Everything shifts, the dizziness of the wine mulling into dizziness of Yoongi - the way he smells like cedar and rose, the way he presses your mouth open with his, the way he tastes like sweet notes of wine. 

The soft brush of his tongue against yours makes your thighs squeeze together. He’s slow as he kisses you, taking his time to suck your tongue into his mouth, rolling his over yours languidly and fuck you’re going to die from just a kiss. 

Yoongi pulls back and you whine, hands going to the collar of his jacket and pulling him back, missing the warmth of his mouth, the gentle pull of your lip between his teeth. “More,” you whisper, pressing your lips to his.

His chuckle buzzes through your mouth, a gentle tingle as you pull at his bottom lip with your teeth playfully. He groans as he kisses you, a little sloppier, with a little more tangled tongues and spit. The wet smack of his mouth against yours is interrupted when someone’s dog starts barking in one of the yards, startling you. 

“Fuck,” he laughs, voice husky. “In your seat, come on. Let’s go.”

“Meh.”

He grins and pushes your leg back into the cab of the truck. “Greedy.”

Yoongi shuts the door and rounds the hood. Your eyes are glued to him as he gets in, your heart pounding in your chest as he starts the car. It occurs to you that you just kissed Yoongi. Min Yoongi, the one person you’ve been spending time with since you got back. The one person who you thought about late at night when your fiance was asleep and you were chasing thoughts of your past. 

The one person who seemed to be willing to look a little deeper. To see that the poison inside of you wasn’t because you didn’t like anyone, or because you thought that you were better. It was because you were afraid and sad and didn’t know how to deal with anything. 

Wordlessly, he reaches over the center console, placing his hand on your thigh and giving it a squeeze. You shut your legs, stomach clenching at the feeling of his fingers brushing gently over your jeans. When you look at him, there’s a sideways smirk on his face and you know he knows that your stomach is flipping over the simple touch. 

It feels like the drive lasts a thousand years. You’re squirming in the seat as Yoongi’s thumb brushes back and forth, giving you a squeeze now and again accompanied by a grin. You can’t help but smile back, heart in your fucking throat as you see all of the familiar houses pass you by. 

The Min home is exactly like you remember it but with less cars. Yoongi parks in the drive, popping open the garage with the press of a button to reveal a workshop of tools, shelves for storage and a flickering overhead light that has been faulty since you were in middle school. 

Outside, Yoongi reaches for your hand, pulling you close as you pass under the garage and toward the door that opens up into a white-tiled kitchen. The hum of the closing door follows you in as he flicks on a light, revealing a large kitchen with oak cabinets and a counter full of mail, a catch all, and various containers of sugar, and coffee and other items. 

Yoongi chucks his keys and shuffles out of his jacket, tossing it on the counter and turning to you. He gives you a cunning smile and beckons you. There’s no denying his summons, your feet pulling you toward him automatically as he catches you by the waist, pulling you into his chest as he brushes his mouth against yours again. 

Somehow, it feels normal to be doing this. To press your palms against his chest as he lounges lazily against his kitchen counter, one hand on your waist and one hand on the side of your neck as he tilts your mouth to his, kissing you hungrily. Like he’s waited an entire lifetime to do this. 

The thought makes you pull away suddenly. You look up at him, his face flush and lips kiss-bitten and spit-slicked. His eyes flutter open, looking down at you half-lidded and dazed. “Hmm?”

“Did you really have a crush on me?” 

He snorts and rolls his eyes, tilting his head backward until it hits a cabinet. The hand on your neck is firm, a steady weight that sends your thoughts wild when his thumb brushes back and forth across the skin of your over-warmed throat. 

“Of course I did. You paint so much of my life, you have no idea.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“Cause I was terrified. I wasn’t very honest with myself back then, there was no way I could be honest with you. Then after college you got that nice ass job and I realized I was coming back home and I couldn’t go with you.”

“Even in college?”

“Yeah,” he whispers to the ceiling. “Even in college. I had this big idea to maybe tell you when we graduated. I was going to work at that new startup I told you about - it was only thirty minutes away from you. And then that didn’t happen and…” He shrugs. “I realized we weren’t on the same path. It seemed pointless.”

You stare at him for a few moments, thoughts flicking through your mind at a blinding pace. Yoongi had liked you in high school. In college. Had put off telling you because he didn’t think you’d be interested enough to stay, or to figure it out or to-

“I’d have dated you anyway,” you murmur. Carefully, you move a strand of blonde hair from his eyes when he looks down at you in surprise. “Yeah,” you laugh when you see his face. “Yoongi, I was totally head over heels for you in high school and in college. And then you dated Jessa and I just figured it would be embarrassing to tell you later so I just didn’t say anything.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No. Those first few months when you never texted me that you had settled in at your new job I figured you had new friends or just didn’t have time for me. I didn’t even…” You sigh. “I didn’t realize you didn’t move there. I was too nervous to look at your social media.”

“I barely update it anyways.”

“I know. It’s all your cat.” That piques your interest and you pull away from him, looking around. “Where is your kitty? I want to see.”

“I love that you are excited about my cat, but I would like to request that we look for him later. I have other things I wanna do.”

“Oh?”

Yoongi’s gaze is dark when you look back at him. Your fingers tighten in his shirt, going still under the razor-sharp look he gives you. “Yeah,” he confirms. “I want to show you how fucking bad I wanted you - do want you. And I don’t want you to think I’m just saying all this, or that I’m using a moment of weakness. Since you walked into the kitchen that night, I have not been able to stop thinking about every second of my life that I liked you. That I wanted to kiss you. That I wanted to fuck you until all you could think about was the way I felt.”

“Yoongi.”

“Hmm?”

“I would like that very much.”

Yoongi’s smile is dazzling, completely at ends with how he just said he wants to fuck you but you don’t care.

Especially when he gives you a chaste kiss to the mouth. Once. Twice. And leads you through the home that you already know. His bedroom is on the opposite side of where his parents slept, and when he opens the door to reveal a room lit by a single salt lamp, you almost expect it to be covered in drawings of buildings and filled with canvas prints of famous buildings around the world and sheets designed like graph paper.

Instead, you’re surprised to see an elevated room with newly painted, limewash walls, a heavy desk tucked into the corner with leather portfolios and neatly stacked papers, dark linen sheets folded neatly on the bed with several pillows - including decorative - against a beautiful headboard with a keen design you know is his.

The room looks lived in and elegant, and it smells like the sage and jasmine reed diffuser in the corner. 

“You’re fucking hot,” you blurt, startling yourself and Yoongi. “Like your room is - adult. And you made that desk and headboard right? Fucking-” You look up at him and shake your head. “It’s really hot that you do all of these things.”

“Wow. Just the room does it for you, huh?”

You shove him playfully and he falls back on his bed, sitting with a soft bounce. He opens his legs and leans back on his palms, eyes drifting up and down your frame. He smirks, cool confidence making your hands shake as you take a step forward, suddenly feeling far more nervous than you ever have around him.

“Come here,” he purrs, lifting a hand and patting his thigh.

In a trance, you compy. Carefully you crawl into his lap, knees pressed into the mattress on either side of his waist as you settle your ass between his legs. His hands wrap behind you, pressed into the small of your back as he leans forward, catching your mouth with his. He pulls your coat from your shoulders, dropping it to the floor as you settle your hand around his neck, sliding your fingers through his hair.

Kissing Yoongi makes the world stop. Here, in his bedroom, in his lap, nothing else matters. It doesn’t matter that you’re living in your mom’s house again. It doesn’t matter that you have to figure out what to do about a new place to live. It doesn’t matter that a teeny-tiny part of you was relieved to find your fiance cheating. It doesn’t matter that you were more mad about being kicked out of the apartment than anything else.

All that matters is that something slides into place when Yoongi leans back, letting you fall onto his chest. You giggle into his mouth, letting the slide of your tongues and lips lull you into a sense of longing that you’ve harbored for years without realizing it. 

You’re drowning in Yoongi. Your lungs are full of him, sending you gasping into his mouth when he rolls your hips against his, the friction sparking a fire in you. You’re completely lost in him, drifting further and further his mouth places hot, wet kisses on your jaw and neck.

It never occurred to you that you could want someone - Yoongi - this badly. You tremble on top of him as his fingers pull your shirt from the waistband of your jeans, fingers seeking the warmth of your skin. 

Breathing becomes difficult, your lips ghosting across the tender skin of his neck, nipping lightly as his calloused fingers brush across your hips, digging in as he rocks you against him. You can’t help but shiver at the feeling of arousal in your stomach, fingers quaking as he lets out a soft moan next to your ear. 

Gently, Yoongi rolls the two of you over, slotting himself between your legs and pressing his clothed hard-on where you want him most. You look up at him as he pushes his hair out of his eyes, skin flushed and full of warmth and want. He is beautiful.

Something in you blooms, hungry and feral. You grab his hands and pull them to your chest, squeezing his palms under yours. He grins, getting the hint as he gives your tits a gentle squeeze, working a light moan from you. 

“You always had great tits,” Yoongi admits, thumbs circling the gentle hint of nipples through your shirt and bralette. You squirm under his touch and his grin grows wider. “Yeah? Sensitive, hmm?”

“Yes.”

With a pleased hum, Yoongi removes your shirt. It’s cold in his room, but he’s quick to bend down, his hands rubbing up and down your sides, chasing away the goosebumps as he looks up at you, mouth hovering over a peaked nipple. 

Slowly, Yoongi flicks his tongue over your nipple. The sensation makes you kick against the mattress, the stimulation something but not nearly enough. You want more, your hands shooting to his forearms and digging your nails in. 

Yoongi huffs, warm air gusting over your skin as he gives you what you want, lowering his mouth and wrapping it around your nipple, soaking the fabric of your bralette. Your eyelids flutter shut, one of his hands holding himself up and the other ghosting along your ribs back and forth, making you shiver repeatedly. 

Pulling away, Yoongi plucks your nipple playfully with his teeth, making you squeal from a pinch of pain but a flood of pleasure. You feel lightheaded, teetering on the border between present and somewhere far away and he’s barely even touched you. 

“You okay?” Yoongi asks. You realize his lips are ghosting against your chin. “You look a little dazed. We can stop.”

“No.” You shake your head, trying to dispel the fog and blinking down at him. “No it’s - it feels good. It’s hard to think when you touch me I just-” The words are stuck in your mouth and you squeeze your eyes shut.

He kisses your nose gently. “You just what?”

“I’m just really into it and it makes me feel all floaty and out of it but present. I don’t know. It’s overwhelming but good.”

“Do you want to keep going?” You nod. “Okay. You can stop at any time, okay? You ever used safe words?”

“No.”

He kisses you sweetly on the forehead, mouth drifting south until he’s nosing you lightly. His next words come out mumbled against your mouth, the hum sending a soft buzz through your lips. “Tell me a word we can use if you need to stop. No matter what we’re doing, the moment you feel uncomfortable, you use the word.”

“Christmas?”

He snickers and presses his forehead against you. “Fine, Christmas is fine.” He pecks your lips. “Okay.” He pulls your hand from your face, giving you a gentle, innocent kiss to the lips. It helps settle you a little. “Tell me what you like.”

“Umm.” Yoongi places butterfly kisses along your jaw, teeth nipping you lightly. You curse and feel your eyes roll back in your head as he sucks at your skin greedily, one of his hands coming up to brush a thumb back and forth over a nipple. “I don’t know.”

“No?” He pinches your right nipple and you moan loudly, earning a smile against your kiss-slicked neck. “You must like something. Do you like it slow? Rough? Messy? Do you like being choked? Hands above your head? Or in control?”

You shake your head. “Want me in control?” You nod. “Got it.” His hand drifts up to your neck and gives the sides a gentle squeeze. A thrill shoots through you and you lean up into him, nodding. “Yeah? Like having my hand around your throat?”

“Yes. I like…” Your words trail off for a moment as you think through the haze of Yoongi’s rasping voice and mouth. “Umm hard but sort of slow?” 

“Mhmm.”

“And messy. Messy is good.” 

Yoongi gives a satisfied hum. His hand leaves your nipple, brushing down your heated skin toward the apex of your thighs. He presses his fingers firmly over your clothed pussy, not nearly enough friction with underwear and jeans in the way. “And what about being eaten out? Do you like that?”

“Yes.”

You feel his smile against your throat. “Thank fuck. I’ve been dying to taste this fucking pussy.”

Suddenly you’re glad you have a safe word. Yoongi’s words send a fresh wave of arousal straight to your core, a moan leaving your lips as he worships your skin with his mouth. It feels like you could fall headfirst into him and never stop falling. The tension in your stomach is so tight you nearly snap when he unbuttons your jeans, everything he does is so overwhelming that there is almost an urge to cry. 

It’s hard to piece together why you feel like this. Why there is an inferno screaming inside of you, begging to be let out. Why the press of Yoongi’s fingers over your damp panties nearly sends you into a blackout, why when he circles your clit through the fabric you let out a strangled noise.

But you think… maybe you know what it is. 

Instead of thinking too hard about it, you focus on the way you’re short of breath. The way that your entire body is vibrating with energy. You look down to where Yoongi is on his knees between your legs, dark eyes looking up at you intently. His hands skate up and down the soft flesh of your inner thighs, squeezing periodically. 

Way back when, you were always nervous letting people between your legs, letting them see the most intimate parts of you up close. It was anxiety-filled and you were constantly nervous about being wrong - or just. Anything. 

But when Yoongi drops his gaze down to where your underwear sticks to your folds and lets out an appreciative curse, there’s no anxiety at all. Just a desire for Yoongi to make you his. For you to dig your fingers into him and make him yours.

Flashing you a wicked grin, he leans forward and gives a slow, wet lick over your panties. “Oh fuck,” you gasp, back arching and thighs twitching shut a little. The stimulation is more, but not enough. “Please don’t tease me.”

“Hmm, no? Want my mouth on this perfect pussy?”

“Please.”

He tucks his fingers under your underwear and pulls them down slowly, pressing a kiss to your knee absently. “You’re so much more pliant than I expected. Just want to be taken care of?”

Something inside you squeezes sharply and you shut your eyes, nodding. Realizing he can’t see you nodding, you whisper, “Yes.”

Firmly but slowly, Yoongi presses his palms into your thighs, spreading you wide. The stretch pulls your muscles but it’s a pleasant burn that is immediately forgotten when you feel his hot breath skate over your aching hole. 

You have never wanted someone’s goddamn mouth this bad. Yoongi laughs and you realize that you’re squirming, wiggling your hips a little toward his mouth. You immediately stop, hands covering your face as you groan, realizing that you are pliant for him. 

Embarrassment morphs into surprise and white hot pleasure when Yoongi licks you slowly from dripping hole to clit. Your breath gets stuck in your chest at the sensation, his tongue languidly rolling around your clit before he slow-drags it back down, dipping into your hole teasingly. 

“Holy fuck,” you gasp as he repeats the motion, the flat of his tongue dragging upward. “Fuck, Yoongi.”

He hums contentedly, flicking his tongue back and forth over your clit playfully. Your thighs tighten and shake, and you’re only able to let out the breath you’ve been holding when he pulls away and gives a soft chuckle.

“Fuck,” he grumbles, shuffling and sliding his hands under your ass. His fingers grip you firmly and he pulls you to his mouth, using the grip on your ass to anchor you to him. “Can you look at me, baby?” 

The new endearment makes your fingers clench in the sheets. It’s dizzying when you shift to your elbows, barely able to prop yourself up. The room tilts as he grins between your legs, lips glossed with your arousal. 

“Want you to watch,” he murmurs, kissing your inner thigh. It leaves a sticky mouth print. “Such a sweet little cunt.”

Yoongi’s words have no time to land. He leans forward and you watch with acute fascination as he sucks your clit gently between his lips. Your nerves turn to molten lava and though he wants you to watch, your head falls back and you feel your eyes roll, a whimper escaping your mouth as he suckles greedily. 

Everything Yoongi does has always been art. He eats you out no different, alternately between eagerly tonguing every inch of you and sucking gently on your clit. You somehow manage to lift your heavy head, swimming with no thoughts but Yoongi Yoongi Yoongi to watch as he closes his eyes, humming delightedly as his greedy tongue slips into your clenching hole.

“Holy fuck,” you squeak. Your legs threaten to close as the knot in your stomach tightens. You know you’re going to come soon, knees squeezing his shoulders as he hums and sucks and licks, not letting a drop go to waste. “I’m gonnnaaa-” 

You can’t finish the sentence. He knows you’re going to come, his tongue firmer, his mouth hungrier. His mouth is loud and wet against you, which might gross you out if you weren’t babbling, twisting your hips under him as the pressure in your stomach shot upward. You’re panting and nearly delirious when one hand slides from your ass to your hole, his thumb applying just enough pressure to relieve a bit of the ache. 

“Fuck,” you squeak.

You come hard, eyes squeezed shut, Yoongi sucking your clit harshly and humming, the hum of his mouth sending you over and his thumb dipping into your hole to apply pressure. Under the force of your orgasm, you collapse to the bed, full-body twitching as his gluttonous mouth sucks at you, not letting up.

A numb-like tingle settles into your veins. You feel drunk, and not from the wine. Something headier that makes your thoughts white noise and your limbs heavy-soft. Yoongi gives your clit a kiss before squeezing your ass playfully, kissing his way up your stomach to your chest. 

“How are you doing?” he asks gently. 

“I think I just saw god,” you croak, voice hoarse from overuse. “Fuck. Fuck.”

He hums and licks into your mouth. You taste yourself on him, sticky-sweet and heady. He moans, dropping his hips to press against your slick thighs and still-dripping cunt. “Let me,” you mumble against his mouth, hand dropping between you and squeezing him over his jeans. Fuck. Your eyes flutter open, your hand feeling the full size of Yoongi’s cock. “Oh my god, do you have a big dick?”

Yoongi bursts into laughter, groaning and burying his head in your neck. He busies his mouth with placing sloppy kisses, more tongue than anything, against your pulse point. “I mean, yeah.” 

“I mean, yeah,” you mimic in a high-pitched voice. He laughs and you squirm. Even his laugh is hot. “Well show me. I wanna suck you off.”

“Can I be honest?”

“You just made me come from tongue alone, so yeah.”

“If your mouth comes near my dick I might come. I was close to busting in my fucking jeans like a teenager just now. I’d love for you to suck me off another time, but I am living my dream right now and I might bust a nut immediately.” 

You look at him owlishly. “Living your dream, huh?”

“Shut up,” he growls playfully. “Roll over on your stomach for me and put that perfect ass into the air, hmm?” 

With sluggish limbs and your head spinning, you do what he asks. He snaps the back of your bralette and you let it fall down your arms before tossing it aside. Leaning on your elbows, you put your ass in the air, wiggling it for effect. He huffs out a laugh behind you and you turn your head to watch him pull his shirt off.

Underneath his clothes, Yoongi is flushed pink and smooth. You watch, dazed and appreciative as he undoes his jeans swiftly. There is something alluring about watching the way his hands work his pants off. His strong thighs flex when he straightens, tucking his thumbs underneath the waistband of his briefs to slide them down and -

“Holy fuck,” you blurt. Yoongi looks up at you, blonde hair sticking to his forehead and cock bobbing heavily against his stomach. He does have a big dick - thick and long with a flushed tip leaking precum that makes your mouth water. “You’re joking.”

For a moment, the confident Yoongi from a second ago wavers, face red as he shyly gets on the bed. “If we have to stop we can-”

“Please fuck me,” you beg. You don’t even hesitate, shuffling your knees so that your ass is higher. “I don’t care if it hurts. Please.” 

His hands are on your ass, making your heart hammer in your chest. You think it might give out as Yoongi shuffles behind you, his thighs brushing against the back of yours. You feel the sticky crown of his cock against an asscheek, making you press backward to apply pressure. A sharp smack lands on your ass, earning both a cry and a moan from you. 

“Don’t fucking start,” Yoongi growls. Both of his hands grip your ass as he slides his shaft between your sticky folds. Your forehead rests on sweaty sheets as you pant, feeling how hard and long he is. “Gonna fuck you open with my fingers a little.”

“Yoongi.” 

“You said you wanted me to fuck you, baby. So let me.”

Yoongi’s hands drift from the apples of your ass to your fluttering hole. There’s a pit in your stomach, butterflies going wild as his fingers brush around your ring of muscles, hole twitching. His cock is pressed against your ass as he slides a finger in, a sigh of relief leaving your lips as he presses against your front wall, the smooth glide of his fingers addicting. 

“More,” you whisper. “Please.”

He hums in agreement, sliding in another finger. It’s a stretch, but it’s good. Pleasure whites out everything else. There’s just the tight glide of his fingers, pressing against that soft spot in you. Everything he does, your stomach lurches, the pleasure turning you boneless as you continue to melt into the mattress, letting Yoongi slow-fuck you with his fingers until he decides you can take him. 

Slowly, he removes his fingers, a line of arousal sticking to your ass as he uses both hands to spread you open. He moans, shuffling so that his cockhead catches your entrance, holding the blunt tip there for a second, letting your hole clench and unclench at the pressure. 

“Holy fuck, please.”

“What was that?”

“Min Yoongi, plea-”

Your words turn into an embarrassing sound as he sinks deep into your pussy, so wet that he slides almost to the hilt. The wind gets knocked out of you and for a second, you lay there in white light, unable to think about anything but the painful stretch of his cock reaching deep deep. 

There’s nothing else but the feel of him, hips pressed to your ass, hands rubbing up and down your back, letting your walls flutter around him as you adjust to the girth. And you do have to adjust, remembering to breathe through it. When the slight sting fades, you swivel your hips, making both of you sigh. 

Taking the hint, Yoongi pulls out, using his hands on your ass to control both of your movements before he sinks back in, finding a smooth, steady rhythm that has stars exploding behind your eyelids. You’re gone in seconds, thoughts replaced by the livewire feeling in your stomach and the way Yoongi fucks you hard and deep, though his movements are slow. 

Yoongi makes sounds behind you that make you fall apart that much faster. His hands are reverent and careful as he pulls you onto his cock, fucking you like you asked. Slow. With purpose. Every thrust is weighted, Yoongi putting his entire frame into each stroke as he fucks you into the mattress, punctuated by his stilted breaths. 

“Fuck,” he swears. “You have no fucking idea the way I dreamed about this. Fucking-” he breaks off with a growl, fingers gripping you with bone-shattering strength. “Wanted to do everything with you. For years.” 

Something inside of you snaps and you let out a muffled cry, realizing that you're near tears. Because yeah. You know what he means. You knew it when you saw him standing in the kitchen making a home with your mom. You knew it when you saw him carving rocking chairs and brushing sawdust out of your hair. 

“I’m sorry,” you gasp as he adjusts the angle, hitting your spot on the upstroke. It nearly sends you into space. “But me too.”

He smacks your ass, the sting almost sending you headfirst into your orgasm. “Yeah? Thought of me even when you weren’t here, hmm?”

“Yes.”

“Thought of me even when you were lying awake at night in a city without me?”

“Yes.”

He slaps your ass again and you feel your orgasm, so tight and intense that you think you might die if the pressure doesn’t pop. “Come on,” he grunts, a hand sliding around your waist and reading down to press tight circles on your clit. Your vision goes white. “Come for me, then. Fucking show me.”

It’s all you need. You come around Yoongi, squeezing him so tight and screaming viciously into his sheets. He grabs you tight and curses loudly behind you, immediately coming deep in your cunt, shivering against you as he pants through it. You’re barely aware that his weight is on top of you, your entire being somewhere else far away.

For a while, there is just gasping breaths and tangled limbs. You’re unsure how to string together words, your mind and bones melted. Your body twitching with post-orgasm tremors. 

Strings of thoughts begin to pull together. The twine to make coherent ideas. Memories. Things. You feel the weight of Yoongi, who is only half on top of you as he tries to catch his breath. Tries to piece himself together, both of you collapsed and tangled in something beyond just bodies. 

Whatever it is that just happened is more than just fucking and you know it. Know that Yoongi knows it. You’ve been dancing around an inevitable thought for weeks, while watching him hunched over his workstation, painting stain on a cabinet with his sweater sleeves pulled over his hand. Watching him shuffle boxes of dreidels that he hand-carved for the synagogue down the street. 

The dread of coming home during the holidays was always about the association to your family. To your dad being gone. To the guilt gnawing at you for leaving your mom. But now, as he pulls the rest of himself off of you and rolls onto his back, hands grabbing you and pulling you to his sweaty side, you think that maybe being afraid of home was a little bit about him too. About the memory of him. About the little inkling of a crush that you never got over. 

“Your mom is gonna give us so much shit in the morning,” he mumbles, words a little slurred. You curl into his side, tucking your face in his neck. He smells a little like cedar, a little like sex and sweat. “She might never let me in the house again.”

“Untrue. She loves you.”

“Hmm. It’s a start.”  He sighs, words drifting off. “And no safe word needed. I could barely choke you out if I wanted. I thought I was gonna come as soon as I put it in. Holy fuck.”

“Fuck Christmas,” you laugh. “I want you to do that again. However you want to.” He snorts. “Also, I want to suck your dick in the morning. I didn’t get you a gift.” 

“Fine,” he mumbles. “Sleep, yeah?”

You hum. “Yeah.” 

[hrts4hanniehae]

clutch || three

there are written parts :)

note that the timeline or educations may not add up but just ignore it because i don't have the brain power to sync up THIRTEEN + 1 's education schedules

also!!!! the story begins in the christmas period of 2022!!!! IF THERE ARE YEAR ERRORS IM SO SORRY!!!! i legit can't change it omfg

okay if we were being very honest, e/n was an attractive guy. well-liked by everyone, especially yn's parents -- mother. he had a good office job, loved the idea of starting a family and was rather... old-fashioned in his thoughts.

e/n had asked her out 2 years prior. she agreed because she was desperate to please her mother. but it wasn't as if she didn't like him. she did. just... not as much as she would have preferred. he was all those good things, but he didn't let her be free. he always talked her down when she brought up her art or passions. but he made her parents happy. so she suppressed it.

when he cheated on her, she didn't feel any sadness. not much resentment either. but when he stole her apartment from her, she lost her shit.

"what do you mean i can't take my apartment back? MY NAME IS ON THE LEASE!!"

"i did not sign that! that's a forged signature! how many times do i have to tell you, i have no recollection of EVER signing my apartment off to him! god why won't you even investigate the signature!"

not only did she have to deal with this bastard's theft, but now she had to deal with him at work too.

"do you know where's the bathroom?" (random museum goer)

she kindly pointed her in the direction of the nearest bathroom.

"oh yn! I didn't know you worked here." - e/n

"hi e/n. what do you need. and where's your side chick." - yn

"she went to the bathroom. i wanted to see you." - e/n

"when the fuck are you going to leave me alone? you already stole my house. what else do you want?" - yn

"yn, you're being ridiculous. just come back to me. i'll ditch her for you. i just wanted to try someone new. you're not exactly a... fun partner you know? fun in that way." - e/n

"leave me alone. i already have a new apartment. just please. i don't fucking like you anymore. just leave me alone. stop harassing me, okay? your idiotic excuses and reasonings don't make ANY sense at all. just go." - yn

"so why haven't you told your mom about our breakup? hm? do you really not like me anymore?" - e/n

"i've told you time and time again. i don't talk to my mother. at all. if you care so much, just tell her yourself. why we broke up. hm? or do you want me to get byeongho to tell her. because I will. i'm not telling her because i'm trying to help you save face. if i tell her, your father will know. and he will not be happy. i'm trying to do one nice thing for you despite you fucking another girl in OUR BED." - yn

and just like a saviour, minghao was running up to her.

"yn, your boss told me to look for you about managing my exhibit. oh. hi e/n. get lost, thanks." - minghao

"mind your own business, [redacted slur]" - e/n

security kicks him out.

"thanks, hao. my day has been ruined because of him." - yn

"i'll buy you lunch? i don't think you've had lunch yet." - minghao

"thanks but i'm good. i don't usually have lunch anyways. i'm going to head home. my shift is over." - yn

"did wonwoo tell you our friend was staying over at your place today?" - minghao

"huh. who? he didn't tell me." - yn

i guess he forgot - minghao

"lee chan, or dino. the soloist. so don't be too shocked if you see him walking around." - minghao

"right. i'll see you tomorrow for lunch, minghao. go hang out with jun." - yn

"he's filming a movie right now. how am i supposed to go see him?" - minghao

"figure it out!" - yn

she forgot about dino and walked into the bathroom not knowing he would be there. luckily, he was half-clothed.

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

synopsis: wonwoo is a popular streamer known for his incredible gaming skills and good looks. He turned heads. but he hates the attention. he just wants to play games and earn money. one day he receives a letter. his apartment’s rent has almost doubled. no warnings at all. his current paycheck from streaming can’t shoulder those bills. he has no choice but to rent out his spare room. to who? a fresh art university graduate who has… 1. a stable job ✅ 2. talent for art and sculpting ✅ 3. many friends ❌ 4. social anxiety ✅ 5. no filter ✅ when his iconic cat logo gets copystriked, she comes to the rescue with a new logo for him. when his apartment’s walls start peeling, she fixes it. whatever he used to struggle with… the empty space... was now filled by her. so what does he *last player standing* do when her ex *enemy spotted* tries to take her back? heh. *clutch* he clutches.

inspired by wonwoo's gam3bo1 streams, falling into your smile & gogo squid (has hints of valorant)

pairing: streamer!jeon wonwoo x fem!artist!reader (ft. jeongcheol, soonhoon, junhao, seoksoo, verkwan)

genre: fluff, comfort, slowburn, comfort, pining, bestfriend!minghao

warnings: stalker ex, toxic ex, mentions of abuse, guns (game), cursing, hate comments, panic attacks

started: 28.12.23

ended: ?

taglist: join from my masterlist

main masterlist

smau socials

previous I next

tags! @fairyofhour @megseungmin @sun-daddy-yoriichi @woozixo @euphoric-univers @christinewithluv @haowonbins @ocyeanicc @asyre @cynthiaaax13 @superhoshisvt @bangantokchy @chimmy-bts @angelarin @daisawa @writingbarnes @jeonghansshitester

@belladaises @wonwootakemyheart @wonwooz1 @luchiet @kookssecret @caratsland @peachescreamandcrumble @thepoopdokyeomtouched @isabellah29 @leah-rose03 @yandere-stories @coupshour @heesbees

[persephoneflowerpetals]

Sorry for not being very active on here

Just wanted to give an update because a lot has been going on with me and I haven’t even had the time or energy to think about writing or being on this blog because of everything lol.

So, I recently got into a car wreck on the 14th on my way to work. Some guy was trying to make a left turn into the neighborhood I live in on the highway and his engine stalled and (even though he saw me coming and knew that his 20+ year old car had engine problems) he pulled out in front of me to cross but because his engine stalled he didn’t make it and I crashed into him. I’m okay btw!!! Luckily and thankfully I only made it out with a bruised leg, but my car is in bad shape and is most likely totaled because the engine went out after the crash and I couldn’t move my car out of the road nor could I even get out of my car from the driver’s side, I had to escape from the passenger side.

So…yeah, there’s that and I’ve been dealing with a lot of mental health issues because my work has been overworking me and pushing me to my limit and I’m honestly getting really tired of giving my all and breaking my back for this store and getting nothing out of it, like not even a raise (when I asked for one they said it was “being processed by corporate” and apparently this raise has been in the works for me since December so…I don’t think I’ll be getting a raise any time soon tbh and even if I did get a raise it probably wouldn’t be enough to keep me there). Like, just last Wednesday I had a stressed induced illness because I was so burnt out from work and worried about stuff that it made me physically ill so (for the first time ever in 1 year of working at that store) I called out sick (and then that same week I got into the wreck so that was great).

I’m currently working on finding a new job because what I’m dealing with now is getting ridiculous and I honestly really want to be on here and talk to you guys and make posts like I used to, but I feel like I can’t anymore because of life and that sucks. Legit, my boss is making me work 35 hours this week (AFTER MY CAR WRECK 😑) even though she knows what I’m dealing with right now and knows how overworked I am. She had the nerve to say “I don’t want to overwork you” as she adjusted my schedule for the 3rd time because someone who is CONSTANTLY calling out in the store (and they refuse to fire her for some reason AND there’s another employee that’s going to be out all month) can’t come to work for the rest of this week so I have to cover for her. Oh yeah…and you know what else??? I have to train a new employee on top of all of that. I’m not a manager. I’m not even full time. I don’t get vacation time or sick days or paid holidays (even though we literally only get 2 holidays off and that’s Christmas Day and Thanksgiving Day, so not that it even matters anyways) or any kind of benefits. And I don’t get paid extra for training new hires. It’s ridiculous. My boss even asked if I felt comfortable training a new employee after what I’ve gone through with the wreck and how stressed I am (which I respect) and I told her no because I really am dealing with a lot and don’t need the stress of training someone on top of that, yet here I am so…I’m just tired of being a doormat for this company and letting them treat me like a workhorse. It was fine at first because I needed the money (and I still do), but the lack of sympathy after the wreck and being so overworked and stressed that I became physically ill is concerning and I think it’s a sign that I need to move on and find something else.

So yeah, sorry for the rant there but I just wanted to share what I’m dealing with and what I’m going through. Like, I still have stuff at home I have to deal with too and financial issues (and getting in a car wreck certainly doesn’t help that at all), so yeah. I have an interview tomorrow for a job that would really be beneficial to me and would be a perfect fit for me and I’m really hoping and praying I get the job because it’s would just help me so much and it’s such a good job!

Anyways, I know I share updates a lot, but I realized I haven’t really been active on here and I just wanted to share why and kinda release some tension because I’m really going through it lol.

[ghostismybbygorl]

Alright more headcannons

Pt.1

Ale-ale-jandro

Actually hates the song alejandro by lady gaga. If rudy is mad at him he'll play the song in the car full blast to piss him off

He's 38

Hes got a BIG family. He has 7 siblings he's the oldest out if all if them

hes got a brother (36) with two daughters (6) (8)

A sister (32) with a son (10)

Twin brothers (25) one of them has a daughter (3)

A sister (20) who has a 1 year old girl

A brother (12)

A baby sister (7)

Hes roman catholic and goes to mass regularly with his family

His patron saint is St. Jude Thaddius

Him and soap will go to mass together

He's got a necklace of Guadalupe that his abuelita gave him before she passed. Every time he goes into battle he kisses the necklace and prays to his abuelita for protection

He has a tabby cat named diablo that he rescued off the streets. The cat's a total asshole to everyone but rudy.

Him and rudy are married but no one knows except for his family

This man can salsa dance like nobody's business. Dont get him near tequila or youll be learning how to dance the tango, salsa, square dance everything from him

He's a happy flirty drunk

When he's mad he'll forget how to say english words so he'll just stand there snapping his fingers trying to explain what he's trying to say but getting even more pissed because he can't remember the word.

Accidentally got high off of heroine one time. He was on a mission and somehow a bag of heroine opened up in his face causing him to inhale some. He said it was the best high he's experienced but swore to himself to never do any type of drugs after that experience in fear of getting addicted

Casually pops his neck and it'll crack LOUD

Takes a nap at 3:00 sharp. If he doesn't take his nap he will be bitchy for the rest of the day

He listens to latin r&b when he's relaxing and bad bunny when him and Rudy are alone together.

Being the oldest of the family hes a very nurturing person. When you're sick hes by your side with sopa de fideo, vics cream, and some medicinal tea

This man can and WILL cook. He used to cook with his mom and abuelita when he was younger

He loves to make tamales it reminds him of home

His family goes all out for Christmas everyone has stockings, they all get hella gifts, they sing, dance, bring over homemade food. They all will go to midnight mass and then open presents afterwords when they get home

He's always the best gift giver

His house looks like this and he still lives with his whole family (click the numbers i also have a link to the Pinterest boards if u wanna see more)

1, 2, 3

He has those candies that Abuelas give out

Rudy rudy

Hes actually savage af. He'll absolutely roast the shit out of you and hell say it in the most casual tone

Loves bad bunny

Hes 30

Hes a only child

He has the most obscene slippers

He drinks coffee religiously. He's a regular at starbucks. His favorite starbucks drink is the java chip Frappuccino with two extra shots of espresso and coconut milk

He loves del rosa cookies snd can open them without breaking them. He gets really upset if he does. It happened one time before and he was close to tears

 he loves diablo like its his own child.

He was the one to propose to Alejandro. They where sitting on a couch watching tv when he just pops the question "you want to get married?"

He's scared of anything supernatural. Dont even get him started on horror movies he will legit start praying the hail mary

He gives great massages

He's hella lactose intolerant like reenacting world war 3 in the bathroom intolerant.

since he doesn't have a big family rudy and his family will celebrate Christmas together with Alejandros family.

He absolutely loves the cheesy telenovas

He has a iguana named pakko.

He lives in Alejandro house with his family

He gets really out going when hes drunk he'll start singing and dancing

Price

Religiously plays wordle

He'll bring his bearded dragon into work ever so often. It always creeped ghost out for a while but eventually grew used to it.

He like to put little costumes on his bearded dragon

HE HAS A FAMILY PHOTO OF HIM, HIS BOYFRIEND, DOG AND DRAGON IN MATCHING CHRISTMAS SWEATERS. (He paid ghost big money to make the sweaters)

He doesn't shave his beard at all during november and his beard will get hella long. He usually does this because he dresses up as santa for christmas and goes to children shelter to give children christmas gifts.

He's like hella good with kids, babies especially. If he sees a baby crying he can instantly make it stop crying its like magic dad vibes.

When hes drunk he'll reminisce about the past and tell the same stories over and over. He also gets really nostalgic with laswell

He's the one to throw the christmas parties he takes it hella serious its a requirement that everyone wears a christmas sweater

His house looks like this

1, 2, 3

He has those LOUD sneezes

He takes dad naps. He'll just say he's resting his eyes and then just knock the fuck out.

He saws logs when he naps

Has a squatty potty

Ghost

Knows how to sew and can pretty much make anything. Every year he makes little plushies for everyone for Christmas

He keeps it a top secret but he has a 7 year old daughter that he adopted. Her name is Samantha

When the team first met her they nicknamed her ghoul and she loved it

She has her own little ghost mask and she wears it around the base when ghost brings her to work

Price absolutely adores her and will often volunteer to babysit if ghost is busy with a mission same with laswell

He plays animal crossing in his free time. He says its relaxing or that hes "taking care of the kids island"

His house looks like this

1, 2 3 bonus his daughters room 4

You know the scene in parks and rec when ron swanson was drunk off of snake juice...yeah thats him drunk

He'll face time his daughter when he's away every day

He has chronic insomnia so he'll stay up days on end until hes tired and then he'll pass out on his bed and sleep for a whole day.

He lets his daughter pain his nails. He came in one day with hot pink nails 💅🏼

He has a tattoo of one of his daughters drawing and a tattoo on his ribs of his daughter's handwriting saying "i love you daddy"

His nipples are pierced

He's giving his daughter a puppy for Christmas

Laswell

Her and her wife have a daughter who's 10

She made price her maid (or i guess man of honor?). He was so thrilled and of course sobbed when he saw her walk down the isle

She met price at a football game in london

Shes 40

When shes talking to her wife she'll refer the task as her kids. "Hey do you want to come to dinner with the kids?"

She wears scarfs all the time

Laswells daughter and Samantha are best friends and they will often schedule play dates and sleep over

She gives out the most heartfelt presents. If you talk about something you want 5 months ago she'll buy it and give it to you on Christmas.

Her house

1, 2 3

When theres a party with the boys she, her wife, price, and his boyfriend will watch all the stupid shit they would do and laugh at them

She has a Pomeranian named Annabelle

She does yoga with her wife

She gets sleepy when she's drunk and will probably fall asleep on prices sholder

She loves the smell of rosemary

Soap

He has a apartment which looks like this

1 2 3

He has a girl roommate who keeps the apartment tidy and clean while he's gone. (he very much appreciates her and always cooks and does the dishes for her). She likes to roast the shit out if him when he's home.

He has chronic pain in his right knee which causes him to wear a knee brace occasionally

Hes smokes the elf bars vapes. His favorite flavor is the rainbow candy

He got a tattoo of a heart on his butt cheek. He has absolutely no clue when he got it

He loves tequila drinks

Hes a cocktail type of bitch. The boys will be sipping on bourbon and soap will be over here with like a lemon drop martini or some fancy cocktail.

He wears jockstrap underwear. He says it makes his ass look great but he also wears those funny briefs like the ones that has emojis or cereal theme

When he's nervous he'll start rubbing his stubble

As a April fools prank he grew his beard out and cut it like price's beard. He then proceeded to walk around with his hat and a cigar and act like him for the whole day. He later convinced everyone to do it the next year. Ghost somehow sewed a beard to his mask for this.

He snorts when he laughs hard

He will do any dare someone tells him to do. Gaz jokingly dared soap to snort smarties thinking that he wouldnt do it....he did it......he still smells smarties from time to time.

Ghost and him have matching tattoos if skeletons dancing

He likes to listen to indie alternative music his favorite artist is steve lacy

When soaps drunk he gets all lovey dovey to everyone and he'll start singing sea shanties and pop songs. 

He has a snack stash. Everyone will be debriefing and he'll just randomly pull out a snack and start eating

Hes always hungry and eating. His favorite snacks are gummies, oreos, and Takis 

He will eat ANYTHING i mean ANYTHING. He's tried the weirdest foods out of curiosity and from dares.

Absolutely love's Christmas he wears ungly Christmas sweaters the whole month of december. He has a whole closet full of them

He loves candy canes and will go through multiple boxes of them throughout the month

Hes a nail biter

He's the god father of ghosts daughter.

He has a shower beer after work (a/n: its when you drink beer while you shower very life changing highly suggest it)

Hes really good at soccer

He sleeps in the most random spots and funniest positions. Ghost has a whole folder of all the weird places soap has slept. Everyone will fuck with him in his sleep and do random shit to him here's a few photos of what he would sleep like and what they do

Gazzy

He gets chronic migraines

He is a very VERY emotional drunk. He'll be happy and dancing and next he'll be crying over his goldfish that died 7 years ago

When he's mad his atlanta accent will kick in.

He's very sensitive to certain textures he loves sof blankets and has them littered around his apartment

He's a Very picky eater like the pallate of a 5 year old

He LOVES auntie annes mac and cheese and will eat that on the daily (its his comfort food)

He's allergic to bee's

Loves foo fighters

He can play cello

He's has ocd and will freak out if things dont go his way. Price usually has ti calm him down if he has a freak attack

His favorite anime is darling in the franxxs

He has a whole squishmellow collection on his bed

He really likes to paint him and soap will often chill out in the common room and just do artsy shit together

He loves sending reaction memes

He taught price the woah and now throw the woah at him

If he sees soap the both will look at each other and then do the biggest most dramatic way of the whip

He makes secret handshakes with everyone. Hes still trying to get ghost to do one

He arranges the secret santa and he always gives the most ridiculous presents

He loves to do yoga with laswell and her wife

His apartment looks like this

1 2 3 4

[tuiyla]

i trust your takes more than anyone else’s in the whole glee fandom. what would you say are the best kurtcheltana episodes?

Oh wow Anon that's very flattering considering I've dropped off the face of the Earth and barely interact with tumblr or the Glee fandom anymore, but I appreciate it! Because I've been basically gone for a year and abandoned my rewatch my Glee memory isn't what it used to be but I'll gladly go down memory lane with you.

Previously Unaired Christmas

As soon as I remembered this ep there was no question in my mind that it's the ultimate Kurtcheltana ep. Yes yes it's not even technically canon but I've famously never cared about that. For starters, it has their only trio song, technically a quartet that is admittedly a bit yikes but then also a final song feat Kitty and ND. Since it's "set in 2012" Santana doesn't even officially live with Hummelberry, she just chose to visit them and give them thoughtful and also Santana-esque gifts. I think that's really cute. And yeah, the Mall Santa stuff is a little icky but the three of them are so cute and fun. It's just a low-stakes Kurtcheltana adventure where they're being silly and young and delightful. I love the Pezberry moments, of course, but it also has some of my fav Kurtana shots and just in general they feel like a very cohesive trio. PUC is legit one of the eps that best showcases the chemistry between these three and I can't not love that.

2. Girls (and Boys) On Film

This ep is actually where I abandoned my rewatch and that's weird to me because I was really looking forward to seeing it again. Santana, following the iconic ending to Diva immediately establishes herself as a force to be reckoned with in Bushwick and it's so, so delightful. Her casual "yeah it's a thing I do" to going through everyone's stuff is something only she could pull off. There is some hostility here, of course, as Rachel and Kurt never actually invited Santana to live with them so they're understandably thrown off by Santana not only inserting herself into their flat but also firmly into their lives. Excellent moments for the whole dynamic, best of all being Santana's whole speech starting with "Kurt, sit down" and, of course, the final scene with Pezberry. That scene to me embodies so much of what makes Santana in her current state work as a ch, an agent of chaos who is ultimately trying to be there for her friends. It's an excellent showcase of what she brings to the NYC plot and a simply impeccable Pezberry scene. Really strong establishing ep for what having Santana in New York will be like. Actually, it's also a real shame because it introduces what this trio dynamic will be like and then there are barely any more episodes truly following through on it. Shame.

Honourable mention to the two subsequent eps as I consider this to be an NYC trilogy of Santana being accepted as a full-fledged member of the loft. Feud has her calling Hummelberry her family and Guilty Pleasures the wholesome scene of reconciliation where they really become roommates.

3. Love, Love, Love/Tina in the Sky with Diamonds

Unfortunately, in general we more so have episodes that have good Kurtcheltana moments rather than being Kurtcheltana eps. The Beatles two-parter is a good example, where the few Kurtcheltana bits we have are excellent but unfortunately they're less prominent as a trio and more so have duo moments, mainly Pezberry in the first half and Hummelberry in the second. But there's good stuff here, from Rachel and Santana during the engagement to their cute little promise to each other when Kurt starts working in the diner. As with many things Glee, this cute trio moment is soured in hindsight of the direction s5 ended up taking but nothing can take it away from us, or how Kurt and Santana celebrated with Rachel after that.

These are the only ones I feel like are worth actually ranking but some other honourable mentions:

Lights Out: overall I found Kurt and Rachel encouraging Santana to find her dream to be underwhelmingly executed but who doesn't love At the Ballet and the three mini-mes during the sequence

A Katy or a Gaga: the formation of Pamela Lansbury

Trio: gets a DIShonourable shout out as it should have been a strong Kurtcheltana ep but the Pezberry feud overrode all

Old Dog, New Tricks: honestly barely counts but it's the last of what I could even call an ep with a Kurtcheltana moments. The back half of s5 gives us a crowded NY scene with not NEARLY enough Santana, much less Kurtcheltana - i.e. Opening Night has Kurt call Santana as reinforcement for encouraging Rachel but they don't actually have a moment. Sigh. But 5x19 at least gives us the best hug and Kurt and Santana both supporting Rachel and Kurt being supported in return. It's wholesome and it's the very last trace of our favourite dysfunctional Bushwick family.

Utter disgrace I can't name any season 6 episodes that would fall into this category but special shout out to Kurtcheltana starting us off on Home in 6x02, a moment I treasure very much. Thanks Anon, it was fun to think about all this stuff again! And now, predictably, I have Pezberry feels.

[mermaidsirennikita]

Sorry if I missed it, but do you have any recs for diverse body types? Like either the hero, heroine, or both who are fat or chubby? Thank you!

Yes!

Historical:

Nine Rules to Break When Romancing a Rake by Sarah MacLean. A classic! Callie is canonically fat, ends up pursuing the nine things she's always wanted to do before committing to spinsterhood, and the local rake ends up getting entangled in her adventures. One of my favorite moments in this book is when she tries to disguise herself as a man by wearing trousers during a fencing moment, and he sees her ass and is like "that is NOT a man".

A Rogue By Any Other Name by Sarah MacLean. It isn't as obvious in this book, but I think it's pretty clear that Penelope is more full-figured, and boy is Bourne about it.

Brazen and the Beast by Sarah MacLean. Hattie is fat, and this is one of the only historicals that actually has a plus-size model on the cover and the stepback. She's gorgeous, yay! (And it's such a great stepback.)

Knockout by Sarah MacLean. Another one where the model actually is a legit plus-size model, and a lot of the book is kind of like... big girl wish fulfillment in a great way, imo? It's very touching in a manner I don't think people will get if they haven't been there. Imogen doesn't have all this "I'm fat" angst, she's confident, but her sore point is being made to feel that she's too much in every way? Like, she's too brash, she's too bold, and her big personality on top of a bigger body just makes her too much. Like she should shrink in some way to balance it out. And Tommy is like, carrying her around, protecting her, adoring her. Ugh, it's a lOT.

The Truth About Cads and Dukes by Elisa Braden. Jane is fat, and she considers herself plain. What she doesn't realize, after she enters into a marriage of convenience with local icy duke Harrison, is that he is like. Physically. OBSESSED. He doesn't know much about her personality lmao, but he is BARELY holding it together whenever she does one of her innocent double entendres. (In like, the scene where he's trying to propose a fix it marriage, she's all "and you wouldn't know what's inside my mind unless you'd been inside ME" and he's like, desperately coughing to keep himself together while she has noooo idea why he's so upset lmao.)

Contemporary:

The Brown Sisters trilogy by Talia Hibbert. All three heroines are plus size. There are other cool aspects of rep Talia addresses as well--Chloe Brown has chronic pain, Dani Brown is bi, Eve Brown is autistic (and so is her hero). These are really fun, really good, really sexy books. I think Act Your Age, Eve Brown may be my favorite, though.

The Princess Trap by Talia Hibbert. This is another Talia book with a fat Black heroine who is totally aware of her own appeal and confident as hell. She ends up in a fake engagement situation with a prince (who is, I should add, in trouble because a tape leaked of him and his previous girlfriend getting up to Certain Things That Some Unjustly Consider Abnormal, and also mentioning his bisexuality) and it all goes from there. He has an oral fixation, btw.

Tastes Like Shakkar by Nisha Sharma. This is recent and so cute! It's a Much Ado About Nothing retelling wherein the hero and heroine, of course, hate each other, but have to work together because she's planning her bestie's wedding and he is the chef (and also best friends with the groom). And someone's trying to sabotage the wedding, so that's also an issue. He ALSO has a particular interest that I really appreciate seeing in books with fat heroines, personally.

A Merry Little Meet Cute by Sierra Simone and Julie Murphy. Christmasy, but works all year round imo. The heroine is a plus sized adult film star with a super popular OF-style account, but she wants to break into mainstream. So she gets this opportunity to fill in for an actress on a Hallmark-style Christmas movie, and jumps in. Except oops, the hero, who's a fallen boy bander, is VERY familiar with her work... Super body positive and hot, love it.

Possession by Adriana Anders. Omg love this book. The heroine is a rising actress, and she's in a totally platonic, PR marriage of convenience with this A-list, "sexiest man alive" type star. Then he gets caught on tape doing Stuff and Things with a woman who looks super similar to her. Obviously, they're not really together, but it looks like cheating, so he rans off to a camp to... be himself. She chases him down, and it's super super hot and emotional and there's consensual kidnapping!

Gothic-y Paranormal-y:

The Thornchapel Series by Sierra Simone has six leads (five of whom have POVs). One of the POV characters is a plus size model who's just acknowledged as like, the hottest person around. TW for a million things, but this heroine does have a strong recovery from a past sexual assault ARC.

There are romance novels with fat heroes, obviously, but they are much fewer and further between, and if I'm super real, I've yet to read one wherein the focus wasn't like "the hero and heroine are both fat and the main thing they talk about is being fat", which is not something I personally like to read. It's not that I don't want to read about two fat people falling in love--I do. But I don't like it when that's like... the main point of the story aside from the romance.

[fandoomrants]

Tua, season 4, ep 2 thoughts.

Again. Spoilers.

-Okay, so Ben did return them their powers! Expected it when he made them drink but then thought he didn't do it.

-I did not need to see Luther all hairy in only thong....

-Wtf is wrong with Lila?!

-Oh, Klaus didn't drink!

-Hmm, did he accidentally spill the thing over Ben and that's why he has these tails?!

-Also, this time it's not from his stomach, it seems.

-So, are they powers all messed up now?! I think the thing that Ben somehow blasted looks like what the girl from the Sparrows could do, with the hallucinations. Or it could be just, yk, inl because of the tentacles.

-Wait. Is what Lila doing with her eyes another power of the girl that could control birds could do while she had eyes?!

-Oops. Realised I don't remember half of the Sparrow's names :/

-Knew I should have rewatched.

-The rest are right to be angry, tbh.

-So many people calling Ben Benjamin this season 😅😅

-"the Klaus Claire likes" 🥹🥹🥹 I somewhat expected him to be suddenly super aware of being mortal but I still think he's a bit odd. Love him anyway.

-Oh, nooo. I was eatinggg. Why did this thing with Ben had to happen now?! 😔😔😔

-So they were mentioning the Jennifer thing before but now the name doesn't seem to ring a bell. I guess it's a pretty common name, thoo.

-Are they all sick? I'll stop eating, just in case...

-Oh, no, I wasn't expecting Baby Shark....

-Somehow makes sense, thoo. All my friends with children have it play on repeat at home....

-Klaus losing his mind and Victor just going off or whatever he does when everyone started getting sick in the car. I mean, legit. 💀💀💀💀💀💀

-Diego is somehow the "mum friend (brother)", I didn't expect it but wow.

-Oh, yeah, Diego totally thinks Lila is cheating. But didn't get it's Five?

-Five saying good things about Lila ❤️

-Ben being totally done after he's responsible 😬😬

-Klaus calling him "Benerino" again!

-Not Diego wearing that suit again.

-Oh, wow. Ben telling someone else their attitude sucks? The audacity....

-Also this woman's name tag saying sth else but why do I think this is Jennifer??

-Allison and Victor being so awkward...

-Kinda love what Victor said to her.

-I hope that's not Diego's idea for Christmas presents 💀💀

-Oh, okay, Klaus hadn't changed that much...

-Wait, as far as I know the Tarot card for death is actually not a bad omen? It meant new begining or something. (Unless my tarot reading friend was just saying it to make me feel at ease, lol.)

-"SparrowBit" 💀

-Ok, so it's not Jennifer. Unless she lying?

-Are their powers sorta failing them?

-Ummm, what's suddenly going on with all the people?

-I feel like Five's gonna get into some trouble.

-What's actually going on?!?

-Okkk, knew the subway can't be trusted. (Actually knew that one for years now)

-Lila and Diego fighting while being in the middle of getting shot at. 😅 They really are a family.

-Wow. That thing Diego did was so cool!

-He kinda shot lots of people but...

-Yay, Lila's laser eyes worked!

-Oh, ok, so this is Jennifer. (Or is it?)

-Yeah, ok, soo I was right about Rosie.

-What?!? No. No. Just nooo!!!!! Klaussss, noooooooooooo!!!!!!

-I hope how's the time they show that him being immortal was because God kicked him out, not because of his powers, or I swear-

-Ew, that thing Ben did was as.... Both gross and cool.

-They just abandoned the rest? Doesn't matter, Klaus is dying!

-Can't Allison rumour these people?

-Good.

-Not that song again....

-Ok, good. That's how they'll bring Klaus's powers back. More important is, he's not gonna die.

-What was this hand touching??

-Ughhh. Gene and Jean.

[bumblebeerror]

Good god dude, the 'wait that's real?' question is SO legit. I had a several year long moment where I was like you're fucking kidding, people actually feel this way? They lose their composure so much that they forget their boundaries and are suddenly blind to red flags? .....

But personally that was me seeing everyone around me having a super fucked up idea of what care should look like. I'm still aro as fuck but I know what love SHOULD look like now, I just don't house that in my me.

RIGHT LIKE WDYM YOU STILL WANNA SEE THEM RIGHT AFTER TELLING ME YOURE MAD AT THEM

I can confirm it was JUST as surreal having parents who modeled a heathy relationship growing up honestly. My mum and dad understood each other and worked together and I think my dad yelled maybe four times my entire life with him and each time it was terrifying because I never heard that before kinda pretty good relationship y’know?

Tho. Admittedly my dad wasn’t very touchy-feely and I think the only time he really got flustered was when he was trying to make his valentine’s and birthday and Christmas presents to my mom *perfect*. [to his credit he knew what she liked so well that he accidentally picked out the exact same necklace for her twice, and she still has both] so I grew up with my dad turning to me in the car before Valentine’s Day and asking if what he wrote on the card for mom’s flowers was too hokey <3

[mysterycharacterflowers]

Round 5; A bouquet with love-lies-bleeding, forget-me-nots and sunflowers Vs Plastic/Fake strawberry flowers

First, let's talk about the bouquet with love-lies-bleeding, forget-me-nots and sunflowers

Meaning and why these flowers were chosen: Sunflowers for justice and truth, love-lies-bleeding because he lost the only person who cared about him two months before he could truly work alongside him as a partner, and forget-me-nots because he's a living reminder of that person in every way while also very distinctly himself. Description: He's your uncle. Don't have an uncle? You do now. He smiles and flirts a little and jokes about the silliest things even if there's a new corpse on the floor, and he keeps his hand close to his chest, and you'll never catch the motive behind the joke until it's time for him to reveal the truth and prove his every accusation. He's capable and experienced and a living reminder of the man who haunts the narrative, and he won't save you, because if he could, there would be no need for a reminder of a living man. He'll show you how to save yourself.

Check his post here

Now, let's talk about the Plastic/Fake Strawberry Flowers

Why this flower was chosen: Because he is very germaphobic and also phobic of the things that are in flowers and thus hates nature because it’s dirty (his friends even said that he would be would be a plastic flower if he were one) and strawberry because that’s the smell of the shampoo his wife used and that he can still smell on the pillow she slept on that he keeps (in a plastic case) and hugs when he’s sad Description: He’s a detective. His wife was murdered and for three years after that he didn’t leave the house because his phobias that he had before got exponentially worse. He slowly did start coming out of his house and getting better trying to figure out why his wife was murdered while solving other crimes. He has 312 phobias with the top being in order: Germs, needles, dentists, milk, death, snakes, lightning, mushrooms, heights, crowds, elevators. He has impeccable memory, doesn’t like people and will 100% put his phobias and needs over manners. He can clean his house in his sleep, literally. At the end of the day he is a very nice friend but annoys the crap outa his friends and often doesn’t realise that they even care for him as much as they do/ doesn’t realise they consider him a friend. He always says “here’s the thing” before saying he can’t do something very particular. He also says “Unless I’m wrong, which you know, I’m not”. He always has his assistant carry wipes around and wipes his hands every time he shakes someone’s hand. He is very tight (as in with money) which is very relatable for me and probably other people and its hilarious when he hasn’t paid his assistant because he doesn’t have money (while still buying copious amounts of cleaning supplies) and because he’s so non confrontational he doesn’t want to ask for a raise even tho it’s a totally legit ask (which is also hilarious in and of itself) he ends up just avoiding the subject in any way possible. He once was forced to decorate for Christmas (which he doesn’t do since his wife died) and he used not a fake tree but a paper cut out of a tree. He doesn’t at all know what would insult someone and rarely knows how to make someone feel better (often failing miserably but occasionally actually helping and being super wholesome). He hates/is scared of nakedness (and doesn’t even “look” when he wees) and there was a whole thing where he had to investigate a nudist and was just finding every possible way to find him guilty and it was hilarious (he was in the end more accepting of it but still freaked out) He also wears the same clothes every day and buys shirts checked by a specific checker in a factory that he actually sent a fan letter to (and helped prove her son not guilty). Anyway he is very relatable for just introverted people or awkward people in general because he expresses the way we feel and does things we wish we could do or want to do and says thing we just think in the most hilarious ways, and if that doesn’t make any sense then he just acts and says things that we all kinda do on the inside. Apart from just mostly normal people, he is relatable for the people who share his mental conditions like my dad who is a germaphobe and even tho people still don’t understand germaphobia really, he knows that he gets it and he relates to him a lot. And he has a lot of other things like anxiety, and little things like not being able to deal with change and other stuff that just make him super relatable to neurodevergent people like me. When people first look at people with mental problems they say they are weak that so little sets them off but in reality, they are dealing with so so much that you can’t see and you don’t need to deal with and they- and he is (are) so incredibly strong. I love him so much and I would say more but I don’t want to reveal who he is.

Check his post here

[luucypevensie]

Cute character questions + Ruby Hamada?

Thank you sm for asking about my fave skater chick! Tagging @dancingsunflowers-ocs, @daughter-of-melpomene, and @ginger-grimm because they are Ruby’s biggest fans!

The Basics

Name: Ruby Hamada

Age: 15 at the start of glee s1

Zodiac Sign: aquarius

One Good Trait: she is so comfortable with her own individuality; she knows who she is, and isn’t afraid to own it

One Bad Trait: ruby tends to be a bit aloof; it plays into her cool-as-a-cucumber attitude, and puts people off her

Habits

One Bad Habit: ruby is a nail biter; she only does it when she’s nervous about something

One Good Habit: she likes to volunteer a lot because she’s a big fan of making a difference

One Habit They Can’t Break: ruby is TERRIBLE at asking for help (drew has tried to help her break it, and gave up after the first try)

One They’ve Broken: she used to pick her scabs all the time, but yasmin told her how disgusting that was and ruby worked on curbing that habit

What They’re Afraid Of: honestly, ruby’s afraid that she’ll never find someone who isn’t afraid to show that they love her

Family

Their Parents’ Names: Norman and Caroline Hamada

Their Siblings’ Names: Drew Hamada (twin brother)

Favorite Childhood Memory: learning to play their respective instruments with her brother (they led some pretty wild jam sessions)

Favorite Childhood Toy: a toy drum set she received for christmas at the age of 3

Embarrassing Story: she was attempting to do some tricks on her skateboard from the safety of her driveway when a random pretty girl rode her bike past. the girl didn’t notice, but ruby stopped to stare which caused her to tumble of her board and receive some pretty nasty scrapes on her knees, elbow, and the palms of her hands

Favorite Family Member: drew (they’re twins, of course he’s the favorite)

A Story About That Family Member: when santana and ruby first started going out, drew read santana the riot act. it was the first time in a while that santana was legit scared of someone because he was terrifying when saying she was done for if she hurt his sister in anyway

What They Prefer

coffee or tea

showering in the day or night

taking baths or taking showers

tv or movies

writing or reading

platonic or romantic love

iced tea or lemonade

ice cream or smoothies

cupcakes or cake

beach or mountains

Favorites

Song: cherry bomb by the runaways

Band: bikini kill

Outfit: overgrown pattered men’s shirt with ripped skinny jeans and vans

Place: toyoko, japan

Memory: the first performance cherry bomb ever did together

Person(s): Yasmin Ahmad, Artie Abrams, and Drew Hamada

Movie: whip it

Show: brooklyn 99

[aurorawest]

Reading update:

AHH. So good. I read Timothy Janovsky’s first book in this series, Never Been Kissed, and while I enjoyed it, I didn’t love it. I loved this one. It’s about a spoiled rich boy (the titular Matthew Prince), who gets sent away to the small town where his mother was raised. There, he meets Hector, who also turns out to be his roommate (Hector is staying with Matthew’s grandparents because he can’t afford housing at the university in town). Obviously, Matthew learns to be less selfish and entitled, and he falls in love with Hector, and everything is adorable and wonderful. 5 stars.

This one was...alright. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t great either. Barista and rock star fall in love, overcome obstacles to be together, the standard. The barista is interesting because he’s at university but has a very young daughter with his best friend, because they got drunk and slept together, despite him being fully aware he’s gay. So he’s laser focused on school and work so he can send money back to them and also finish uni on time, so the friend can take her turn with her education. The MC’s posh family is also homophobic, and I always enjoy a good putting-the-homophobic-family-in-their-place scene. The main problem with this book is that it needed better editing. It just could have been a lot tighter. And some of the jokes fell flat, like...I felt like I was kind of missing something? It was probably funnier in Hayden Stone’s head.

This is the second in the Logan, Minnesota series. This one takes place a year after the first and focused on one of the side characters from the first, Arthur. I was...concerned, because it’s made abundantly clear in Let it Snow (the first book) that Arthur is very into BDSM. Since that can be one of my squicks, I was iffy on this book. Also Arthur was obnoxious in the first book. I ended up liking it a lot. Arthur, unsurprisingly, is less obnoxious in his own book, and I really liked Gabriel, the town library who he falls in love with. There are some BDSM elements but quite mild, so it didn’t squick me.

This was more of a novella, about a guy trying to get home for Christmas. A winter storm shuts down flights all across the country, and by the time it occurs to him to rent a car, all the rental cars are gone too...but then the person who got the very last rental car walks up to the desk and it turns out...the main character knows him! They went to high school together, and they clearly have History. A road trip ensues and of course they get together. Considering how short this book was, there was a lot of sex. Which was fine lol. You know, good for them. Again, fine, but not amazing.

Oh, and honestly, I’m pretty sure it’s the same person kissing himself on the cover?? I’ve spent too long staring at it at this point.

Roan Parrish is really turning into one of my favorite authors. I’m asking you to ignore the incredibly cheesy cover and that tagline on it. This book is about a man, Adam, who adopted his sister’s child, and eventually his partner (it’s unclear if they were married) is like, nah, I’m not interested in this. So Adam and his daughter, Gus, return to the town Adam is from—Garnet Run, WY (this is the third in the Garnet Run series). Their neighbor is this weirdo, Wes, who only comes out at night and never talks to anyone. Gus breaks into his house because she sees something interesting and is extremely taken with all his pets, especially his tarantula (Bettie). Adam is obviously horrified by his daughter’s behavior, but Gus can’t take a hint, and she keeps bugging Wes. Adam and Wes obviously end up falling in love.

The ostensible plot of this book is that because Gus is sad about her other dad abandoning her (and he legit does), Adam asks her what she wants for Christmas, and she says for their house to have the most Christmas lights ever. And it’s fine, it works, it causes the wedge between Adam and Wes before their inevitable HEA—but the characters in this book were just, ahhhh. Lovely. I loved them. We got to see Charlie and Rye from the previous book, which was fun, and River, who is Adam’s sibling, had a pretty decent role. Wes’s background and the reason he’s the way he is is pretty sad, but it worked really well, and I loved how enthusiastic and sensitive Adam was. I even loved Gus! A child character! So yeah, I recommend this one. 5 stars.

The third in the Logan, Minnesota series. This one focuses on the third friend in the trio from the first book, Paul. What we mainly know about Paul going into this book is that he was friends with benefits with Arthur, but really, he wanted a relationship—and when it became clear he wasn’t going to get one with Arthur, he moved out of their shared cabin. Turns out Paul is very shy and desperately loves Hallmark holiday movies, because everything turns out okay in the end, and that’s what he wants. He can’t find a man who wants to settle down and also his family is completely horrible and thinks him being gay is a phase (he’s 38).

His love interest is Kyle, who is 25 and has had a crush on Paul since middle school. I love an age gap romance so right away this one kind of became my favorite in the series. There’s a lot of angsting about the age gap at first (by Paul). What I liked a lot about this one was that these two guys really really want to be with someone, and they’re looking for a partner to settle down with. It was a change from the first two books.

Another Roan Parrish novel. This one has actually been in my TBR pile for months, and I didn’t realize it was a holiday book until recently. It’s very different from what she usually writes, but was absolutely gorgeous. Really lyrical and magical. It’s about Alex, a baker, and Corbin, a very strange man who lives in Alex’s Michigan hometown. Corbin is intensely, heartbreakingly lonely, because he’s been told all his life that his family is cursed, and that anyone they fall in love with will die within a year. So he doesn’t let himself get close to anyone.

Highly highly recommend this one. Definitely a 5 star read.

More Fence. Nothing really to say about it, it’s a bunch of pretty, gay boys fencing.

I’m just going to copy my review from Storygraph here, and it does contain spoilers, so if you want to read this book (please don’t, it was so bad), I guess don’t read my review:

Where to begin with this book. I'm a fan of Simmons' work—Hyperion is possibly my favorite book ever, and I really enjoyed the much-maligned The Terror. First off, I actually liked the mountain-climbing detail. Yes, it was long and technical, but that was the strongest part of the book. I probably would have given it a 3.5 star rating if not for the final section. I guess Simmons wanted to write a WWII book and a Mount Everest book, and for some reason he thought it would be a good idea to make them into the same book. The big twist is that a whole bunch of people died (and climbed Mt Everest) for photographic evidence that Hitler had sex with young boys—and we find out in the epilogue that the threat of this getting out stops Hitler from invading the UK in 1941. Absurd. Absolutely absurd. I was actually laughing. This book was written pre-2016, so I guess it wasn't as painfully obvious that people can do horrible things and still rise to and stay in power, but I couldn't suspend my disbelief. Also, Winston Churchill is in it, because of course he is. And Lawrence of Arabia and Charlie Chaplin show up. Why? Who knows! Why not. Literally the only reason I'm giving this book 1 star instead of like, 0.25 stars is because Yetis may have saved the main character from the Nazis.

And this was not in my Storygraph review but I keep thinking about it—if Hitler didn’t want these photos getting out so badly, couldn’t Churchill have, idk, stopped the whole war? And the Holocaust? As my wife put it, Mr Simmons, I am vexed by the gaping plot hole in your novel.

UGH

Current read/palate cleanser:

This is another one set in Logan, MN, but is part of a new series. I haven’t actually started reading it yet but just looking at it is soothing me after reading the trash fire that was The Abominable.

[ben-talks-art]

Thoughts on Wendell & Wild

There is a part of me that gets kinda scared about criticizing stop-motion animation.

Anytime I see a movie like Coraline, Nightmare before Christmas, BoxTrolls, Paranorman, Kubo and the Two Strings, Chicken Run, Wallace and Gromit, Fantastic Mr. Fox, Pinocchio, or anything like that, I always feel guilty if I don't end up liking it because you can always feel the crazy amount of hard work that goes into making these things come to life, into making this animation work, into making these characters move. You can always sense the passion, the effort, and the creativity.

I always feel like the world's biggest and most soulless villain if I don't love every single part of the final product of these types of productions.

That said... I don't think I liked this movie very much...

Kinda like Pinocchio, I don't think this is a bad movie by any means, but it is one that just didn't work for me, and much like that movie I feel like it's my fault for imagining something completely different from what I actually got.

When I first saw the trailer and the words "We all have demons... My demons have names!" I got crazy excited about all the possibilities of what this could mean.

Like, "Oh my God! A story about a girl dealing with the personification of her inner demons that are affecting her in the real world?? That sounds awesome!! The visuals you could do with that! The messages you could send! The personal character journey and internal struggle you could present!! The possibilities!!! What if they try to play around with it and make you question if the demons are really there or if it's all in her head? What are the sources of her demons? What are her fears and struggles?? Ugh! I can't wait to see this!!!"

...

And then I actually watched the movie and... Little by little my expectations went down the drain.

The big thing that just didn't work for me were the three main characters. I just could not get invested in Wendell, Wild, or Kat.

For starters, Wendell and Wild are not "her demons." They keep throwing these lines like "I have demons, these are my demons" and so on... But in reality, these two are just some dudes that just happened to meet with Kate, the main lead.

They have very boring designs for a pair of demons (you could have made them way uglier or scarier), very boring powers, they have next to no connection or interaction with Kat, and honestly... They don't really do anything interesting. They have this gel that can raise the dead, but that's it, and the most interesting characters that are revived aren't even revived by them. The freaking gel has more character and more plot relevance than these two.

And then there is Kat. She has a freaking sick design but... that's about it, she's not really interesting.

Her only two moods are angry or indifferent. Every scene she's either acting like she doesn't want to be here or like she's about to punch someone. Usually that would be really cool but the rest of the cast of characters is honestly so nice to her that it just makes me wonder why she is always so annoyed.

Her classmates, her nun teacher, her bus driver, her friend, I kept waiting for any of them to make fun of or discriminate her for whatever reason, but everyone is legit just trying to be her friend and help her fit in, so watching her always being "I hate all of you!" just makes her look like such a brat.

And I get the point that she's dealing with some personal problems over her parent's death and the bullying she received in the opening scene, but it feels like the movie is trying to glamorize her aggressive behavior instead of presenting it as an issue she needs to work on.

"Look at how cool and awesome Kat is as she walks down the hallway while carrying this giant audio player that's... Probably interrupting everyone's classes and distracting all the students but... Who cares! She looks badass!!!"

I also felt her reason to feel guilty was... Kinda silly. She feels bad because she screamed after seeing a worm on an apple and that led to a car crash. I'm not sure what the message is meant to be here... Don't feel bad for being afraid of a worm??

Why not just make it so she steals the apple behind her parents' back and later her mother finds out and that leads to a discussion that escalates and then that causes the car crash? It could show how even small actions of selfish misbehavior could lead to dire consequences and would make her guilt and self-blame hit a lot harder and thus make me sympathize more with why she's so, as she puts it, unable to forgive herself.

The one thing I absolutely loved (aside from the rest of the cast which is legit a good cast, I like these people a lot), was a scene somewhere around the middle of the movie where she does face her actual inner demons.

It reminded me a lot of the Aggie scene from Paranorman. They play around with visualizing her struggles and emotions, and they make her realize that she needs to confront them, and they make the struggles actually have a form and made me wonder why wasn't the movie more about this instead??

Why not make it so she's being haunted by this thing instead of those two guys who she has absolutely zero chemistry with? Although to be fair, she doesn't really have chemistry with any of the characters.

So... Yeah... Once again I'm being a jerk blaming a movie for not being what I wanted it to be instead of just trying to enjoy what it actually is... But, man! I just keep thinking of what this could have been.

One of my favorite scenes of all time in any movie is the Aggie fight in Paranorman. I love how the emotions, and visuals, and messages all come together to just create one beautiful perfect scene, and I thought this entire movie was going to be that. Which... Yeah, that's on me for creating something in my head instead of really looking at what's in front of me.

As for what's really in front of me... I think this movie is fine. The story was fine, the message was fine, the main characters were fine... The side characters were really cool and the visuals were really cool, but for the most part, I just felt it made for a fine final product.

I didn't really love it but I can't really say it did anything particularly awful, it just didn't do what I wish it had done.

[casliveblog]

Custom Toonami Block Week 133 Rundown

Spy X Family: Yor Briar is an extremely socially awkward young woman who just happens to professionally murder people in her free time. Because this is a weird 40sish police state where people can be excluded from school for not having two parents, Yor is getting looks for being Christmas Cake and having legit threats of being thrown in jail as a spy because she dares to be unmarried because that’s just how paranoid the government is even though you’d think Spies could just as easily make a family pair to fly under suspicions and in fact Loid says they very easily could do that if so many female spies weren’t being arrested for being single which is like five layers of ironic and weird. But yeah they meet up by chance and Anya’s able to read their minds to give enough of a ‘oh woe is me for being the child of a single parent with my dad so utterly attractive and available’ that any normal person would assume was him giving his daughter creepy coaching but Yor is the right level of gullible and intense to not think anything of it. Loid agrees to the The Wedding Date plot to pretend to be her bf so she doesn’t get fucking thrown in prison and also more importantly so her brother doesn’t feel bad but he has a thing on the night of the thing because drama and shows up late. Yor feels like she’s been stood up but the chad Loid just comes to the party dripping with blood like ‘Yeah I’m Yor’s hus-boyfriend’ in a scene that actually kinda laugh and clap out loud as well as standing up for her when her coworkers imply she was a sex worker and he’s just like ‘life’s rough bro so what?’ in like the chaddiest thing I’ve ever seen. Now that Yor’s got legit feelings for him as well as still having the whole prison/brother thing hanging over her head she proposes to him in the middle of a high speed car chase, as you do. Yor’s just hilariously oblivious to the whole situation like even when they’re fucking being shot at and blowing people up she’s like ‘wow doctoring is bloody’ like she’s an assassin so I guess this is just what she thinks life is like, we’re not exactly dealing with the most well-adjusted people in either case and it’s funny as fuck so it’s fine.

Inuyasha: It’s the epic conclusion of the Sesshomaru’s fanfic waifu filler arc. Sara gives Sesshomaru Tessaiga and he’s just like ‘bitch did I ask for your help?’ and bolts while Kagome shatters Sara’s jewel that was turning everyone into glass so that’s not a problem anymore. Sara tells her backstory again and turns out right after Sesshomaru got his arm cut off he was kinda not feeling great on account of bleeding out and getting beat up by your brother, both of those will do a number on you. Her dad was like ‘fuck if my daughter’s gonna be a furry’ and sends the whole kingdom to kill Sesshomaru but it’s basically like that ‘1 billion corgis versus the sun’ fight, no matter how many you throw it’s not gonna do shit. So yeah Sara’s dad goes crazy since his whole army was killed by a one armed bishie and burns the whole castle down. Sara for some reason is still in love with Sesshomaru because he saved them the first time even though he murdered them all the second time because I mean look at the guy what’s a few murders between fangirls. Sesshomaru and Sara meet up in the woods and she explains how she’s Naraku’d herself, Inuyasha and Co. show up a bit later and turns out the demons possessing her have hijacked her to kill Sesshomaru instead and for some reason Tokijin doesn’t work because it’s like a hate curse so a sword of demonic hatred only lets them multiply more which sounds like bullshit especially when Kagome’s Sacred Arrow doesn’t work. but it does result in Sesshomaru getting to use the Wind Scar for the sake of putting a human soul to rest so that’s pretty cool and we get a fittingly ‘whatever’ ending from Sesshomaru so it’s fine.

Yu Yu Hakusho: Yusuke’s still fighting Sniper while the rest of the gang use Seaman to get a lock on Sensui’s cave. Yusuke’s still running from knives and bullshit until Sniper throws a fucking fuel truck at him which is weird because it’s not like it’s a bullet skidding down the street after him it’s actually physically driving towards him with nobody manning the pedals put still steering and shit so idk how that works exactly. Eventually Sniper says ‘fuck it’ and grabs a straight up gun to shoot the tanker and explode it right behind Yusuke but we’ve hit the contractual amount of time since Hiei’s last appearance so he’s able to step in and save the day dramatically. Since Sniper doesn’t have targets on Hiei and the man is literally faster than a speeding bullet it’s a piece of cake for him to take Sniper out which is kind of a shame because I like Sniper’s powerset and wanted to see Yusuke overcome it but seems like he just got a bad matchup. Yusuke wants to go rush off against Sensui but Hiei’s like ‘bro an oil truck just exploded on you and you have no plan’ so he takes his shirt off off-screen and they have a good old fashioned knuckleduster DBZ fight without any named techniques just a lot of auras and punching, it’s pretty cool ngl. Hiei says that’s enough and he’s glad Yusuke hasn’t lost his edge but to remember that Sensui isn’t like Toguro and isn’t gonna be all Goku ‘lemme fight you at your best’ and let him suffer enough emotional damage to power up so he needs to be able to pull enough strength to win without it being orchestrated. Yusuke and Hiei haggle for a bit with Yusuke being like ‘come on let’s go save Kuwabara’ and Hiei’s like ‘but I don’t LIKE Kuwabara’ like yeah if it was literally anyone else you’d have a better chance of recruiting Hiei but Yusuke manages to bribe him with a potential copy of the Chapter Black tape and/or destroying all the annoying fodder demons that are gonna come bother Hiei if shit hits the fan so the gang’s all back together agin.

Jujutsu Kaisen: We pick up roughly where we left off and Gojo shows up to beat Evil Yuji up and apparently his superpowered evil side isn’t that big a deal because Yuji’s just the right level of yin for Sukuna’s yang and all of his yelling and shit amounts to what’s basically intrusive thoughts so he can let him out but doesn’t have much problem putting a leash back on him. Gojo gives him the deal that he’s gotta die for eating the cursed finger but in the meantime they plan to use him as a human garbage disposal and get rid of as many of the fingers as they can before he turns evil and dies or they execute him whatever comes first. Yuji agrees and eats a second finger and packs up to go to magical high school because it’s not a shonen without magical high school, though in this case that mostly seems to be window dressing where ‘high school’ means ‘magical military base that houses teenagers and sometimes has classes I guess’ which is good for me because honestly I kinda find school settings really boring at this point. He interviews with the principal who beats the shit out of him with some Cursed Hello Kitty dolls until he gives him a proper shonen protagonist motivation. And it’s a pretty cool philosophy because yeah if Yuji was just doing an Uncle Ben thing and only fighting because he promised someone else that’s how you end up as Batman and become a fucked up loner crucifying yourself on the duty you promised someone else and as an anti-curse school they kinda wanna put a cap on building more magical resentment across Japan. Yuji admits that it’s kind of enlightened self-interest because while he is fighting to save people he wouldn’t be able to live with himself knowing bad things were happening and he was the only one that could’ve stopped it so he won’t regret giving it a shot even if he fucks up major because trying is better than wondering what could’ve been. Luckily Yuji’s class is only three people big so we’re like if Naruto’s graduating class was ONLY Team 7, speaking of which Nobara is here and I love her already.

Chainsaw Man: We’re just slowly excavating Denji’s standards from ten feet under the floor now they’re only like seven feet under the floor since he can actually eat and shit now. Makima takes him in and gives her whole kinky pet speech and Denji’s like ‘well dog’s better than trash and there’s boobs involved so sure’. This episode is honestly really briskly paced, I get this was probably like five chapters in the manga but I feel like we would’ve gotten separate episodes for all of this if this was ten years ago before seasonal anime was a thing. Denji settles in and is introduced to his Sasuke analogue which I guess every anime needs a generic-looking Sasuke guy given Jujutsu Kaisen also has one. Speaking of which this part of the episode is a lot like the second episode of that one since it involves Denji getting his ass kicked with the whole ‘if you’re not ready for this fuck off because the rest of us have tragic backstories to develop’ and whereas Yuji gave a small twist on the standard ‘I’mma help and that’s never wrong’ shonen protagonist deal, Denji’s just ‘fuck off bro’ and kicks him in the balls which I feel like Naruto would be a lot shorter if more people gave Sasuke a kick in the balls when he needed it. Then Makima sends them off on a REAL mission to beat the dumb minor antagonist that’s in the second episode of every anime after the first episode blew the budget making a cool-looking but weak villain for the protagonist to unlock their powers on. And there’s a whole big long speech about how Aki wants to murder everything because devils killed his family and Makima gives him boners and Denji doesn’t have a vengeful bone in his body but is also less altruistic than he seems since he just wants the porn and resolves to making touching boobs his shonen protagonist resolve thing, slowly excavating those standards, like we’re still six feet below the floor at this point but he’s in the mindset of wanting to have a goal at least. Anyway the last bit is getting introduced to our third girl member of Team Seven (this really is just like JJK) but unlike JJK we actually get to see her in action this time as she uses Suitengu’s Blood Sephiroth powers from Speed Grapher to smash the… Sea Cucumber Devil… because apparently people are afraid of that, idk every time I hear a random Devil I just think of the Sock Puppets scene from the Simpsons and wonder when we’re getting the Sock Puppet Devil. Anyway Power is basically all the worst parts of all the Konosuba girls put together and people are here for it.  

Ranking of Kings: The lion’s share of the episode is devoted to Kage’s backstory to explain why he’s so drawn to Bojji’s soft boi routine. Kage was a victim of your standard anime family genocide and saw his mom’s corpse dragged around in front of him while being protected by a foreign noble and making a b-line for presumably the kingdom the series takes place in. Given he’s less than half a foot tall and got no money he’s kinda SoL until this big thief dude comes and gives him some food and gives him the ol’ Cinderella treatment which is still better than what he had and that even escalates to actively participating in robberies given he’s a living shadow. He desperately latches on to the like 0.0001% of kindness the dude shows him (seems to be a common theme carried over from this week’s Chainsaw Man) and even after the dude has sold him out for an amount of gold that looks like way less than what he was helping him steal so I guess he just did it to be a dick, Kage still literally shadows him until he dies in a barroom brawl and seems like the dude has the smallest amount of regret for how he treated Kage before he dies. Back with Bojji he’s still kicking his little brother’s ass but everyone’s like ‘DODGING!? WHAT THE FUCK BEAT HIS ASS BRO’ because apparently the people are more viking meatheads than in Vinland Saga and they don’t understand any form of combat that isn’t big swords smashing into people. Kage puts together that Bojji having to be observant enough to read lips because like one guy in the whole kingdom bothered to learn sign language means that he’s really good at predicting movements and reacting. His instructor’s like ‘yo you can’t be king unless you face him head on’ and Bojji tries and gets absolutely fucked up because apparently dodging is cowardly but continuing to smack someone until you’ve broken every bone in their body after they already fell down is chad work I guess. Bojji’s got the full Anakin Skywalker treatment and only has one working limb atm but wants to keep training and Kage’s like ‘bro you’re fine just how you are everyone else can fuck off you fight your own way’ which isn’t at all a metaphor for how education systems streamline divergent people into a standardized method and then shit on them for not being a fish that learned how to fly.  

Vinland Saga: The English are dicks (shocker) and attack a Viking colony on Bath Day because Vikings are just like ‘let’s all drop our weapons and get naked one day a week what could possibly go wrong anyone who’d abuse that is an asshole’ and turns out they killed the King of Denmark’s sister and Vikings love an excuse to fight so they come to recruit Thors to fight for Denmark because fuck England (I think ‘Fuck England’ is probably one of the least controversial things a historical period piece can say so we’re good even though the Vikings are kinda dicks too). But yeah turns out Thors was a deserter from the Denmarkian Viking army because he was like ‘you know what I think people don’t like being murdered’ and these guys are like ‘well if we’re gonna go fuck England up we better go get that guy that faked his death and ran away because he was really good at killing people’ and they make it clear that if he refuses they’re just gonna go kill the whole village. So Thors agrees to go to war with one ship from the village and Thorfinn is being a whiny little pissbaby about not getting to go because he’s like eight and Thors is just like ‘bro war is just a made up thing countries manufacture to grow their power, you personally don’t have any reason to kill anybody and killing people is awful anyway’ which is pretty enlightened for an old timey Viking. Still the Street Fighter lookin’ dude that came to recruit Thors is rocking up to Askeladd to go kill Thors after he sets sail which idk why they didn’t just jump him in the village and kill him there where they have hostages but idk maybe they want him to kill a few Englishmen first.

[cantdanceflynn]

plz explain Candace as a Christ figure I am begging. If you already have, my bad. I can't find it.

COPYING THE RANT I DID PUT ON THE BLOG ALSO DW :)))) IM ACTUALLY WORKING ON A SECOND PROPAGANDA RANT

1: LITERALLY DIED IN AN UNHOLY MANNER(BECAME A VAMPIRE AND WAS CAUGHT IN THE SUN) AND CAME BACK BY A MEMBER(OR TWO) OF HER FAMILY RESURRECTING HER(PHINEAS AND FERB)

2: HAS A HUGE CASE OF NECESSARY SUFFERING. WHILE IT HURTS TO SEE HER CONSTANTLY FAIL TO BUST THE BOYS, I DON'T THINK ANYONE ACTUALLY WANTED THE BOYS TO GET IN TROUBLE. THE ENTIRE SHOW REVOLVES AROUND HER FAILURE, ITS NECESSARY FOR ANY OF THE GOOD BITS TO WORK IN THE LONG RUN, MUCH AS ITS CONSIDERED SUFFERING FOR HER.

3: SAID NECESSARY SUFFERING IS **LITERALLY** BECAUSE SHE WASN'T BELIEVED IN TELLING THE TRUTH DESPITE IT BEING THE "OBJECTIVE" TRUTH!!!!! LIKE!!!! IT WAS UNINTENDED BUT SHE'S LITERALLY THE "THEY HATED HIM BECAUSE HE SPOKE THE TRUTH" THING!!!!!

4: DESPITE THIS SHES LITERALLY SHOWN AND CONSIDERED AS A GUIDING LIGHT FOR THE CAST!!!! PHINEAS AND FERB REALLY LOOK UP TO HER, LINDA(WHO I WILL NEVER UNDERSTAND HOW PEOPLE BLAME HER FOR BOTH INCONSISTENT WRITING AND THE WHOLE UNIVERSE CONSPIRING AGAINST HER) AND LAWRENCE CARE ABOUT HER DEEPLY(AND ALSO WORK SURPRISINGLY WELL AS PLACEHOLDERS FOR MARY AND JOSEPH ALL THINGS CONSIDERED (AND ALSO NOW I LOVE THE IDEA OF CANDACE DOING SOME ANTIQUING ALONG WITH HER LAWYERING LATER ON)), PERRY ALSO APPRECIATES HER AND CARES ABOUT HER, EVEN IF ITS IN A WEIRD SLIGHTLY STRAINED WAY BC. MINDLESS PET DISGUISE, ISABELLAS RELATIONSHIP W HER IS COMPLICATED BUT ULTIMATELY ISABELLA ALSO LISTENS TO HER MORE OFTEN THEN NOT, BUFORD AND BALJEET ARE BOTH SCARED OF HER BUT RESPECT HER IN DIFFERENT WAYS, STACY IS WILLING TO GO ALONG W HER DESPITE THE NIGH IMPOSSIBLE STUBBORNESS OF HER BUSTING ENDEAVORS (STACY DOESN'T RLY WORK JUDAS WISE DESPITE THE LEMONADE STAND BUT!!! THE HOMOROMATICISM BETWEEN HER AND CANDACE AND THE BEST FRIEND WHO WOULD FOLLOW HER SUPPOSEDLY EVERYWHERE MEAN SHE HAS THE POTENTIAL <3), EVERYTHING W HER AND JEREMY(WHO IS LIKE. I COULD VAGUELY REMEMBER BC IM BAD W NAMES AND FACES AND EVERYTHING IDENTITY WISE LIKE. 90 PEOPLE FROM THE PLACE I USED TO LIVE WHO WOULD LEGIT THINK HES JESUS IF THEY ONLY HEARD ABOUT HIM WITHOUT THE CARTOON CONTEXT/SRS)MY BELOVEDS, EVEN HER PARALLELS W DOOF AND VANESSA WORK IN THIS CONTEXT W DOOF BEING ANOTHER EXAMPLE OF NECESSARY SUFFERING AND VANESSA LITERALLY BEING USED AS AN OPPOSITE BUT SIMILAR IF NOT EXACT FORCE AS HER ON TWO OCCASIONS!!

NOW JUST A BUNCH OF THINGS THAT AREN'T WHOLE POINTS BUT I THINK ADD TO IT. 1, JESUS ALSO HAD A BROTHER NAMED JUDAS WHO WAS UNRELATED TO THE JUDAS THAT BETRAYED HIM, CANDACE OFTEN FEELS BETRAYED BY HER BROTHERS. 2: THROUGH THE CLASSIC SITUATION OF "THE SHOWRUNNERS/WRITERS(THEY WERE BOTH SOME OF THE TIME ESPECIALLY FOR BIG SPECIALS) PROBABLY DIDN'T ACTUALLY MEAN TO IMPLY THAT THIS CHARACTER HAS A SET RELIGION BUT UNFORTUNATELY FORGOT THAT SOME STORIES ARE TECHNICALLY CHRISTIAN", HER TERRIBLE(/AFFECTIONATE) NICKNAMES FOR JEREMY IN THE CHRISTMAS SPECIAL INDICATE THAT SHE AT LEAST KNOWS SOME CHRISTIAN STORIES EVEN IF SHES NOT TECHNICALLY CHRISTIAN. 3: BUFORD CANONICALLY HAS A CRUSH ON HER AND HE SEEMS LIKE THE TYPE OF KID TO NOT GET WHY HAVING A CRUSH ON PAINTINGS OF JESUS IS WEIRD/HJ

ALSO ITS WORTH NOTING IM NOT RLY CHRISTIAN ANYMORE(AND I WAS ALWAYS SIGNIFICANTLY MORE INTO OTHER MYTHOLOGIES) IM JUST OBSESSED W PNF AND RELIGION CONSTANTLY. LITERALLY THE THING IN MY LIFE IVE PUT THE MOST WORK INTO EVER IS A "WHAT IF THEY WERE ALL GODS" DEITY AU FOR PNF. I AM BOTH HEAVILY BIASED AND THE PERSON WHO WOULD KNOW THE MOST ABOUT THIS

[mermaidsirennikita]

well now that the crown is over it's time for one last ranking of the seasons

Lol good lord

Season 2--I think this was the most dramatically consistent, despite the Kennedy episode; the cast was across the board at its absolute strongest; and the throughline of Philip and Elizabeth's marital issues was so good. The intense argument they had on the ship was literally just a couple fighting and was somehow some of the most riveting TV I've ever seen? Plus you had additional standouts like the episode where we saw the seeds of Charles's Various Issues sown after Philip almost kills him in a murder-suicide by plane because he's so annoying (while also doing some genuinely intense trauma delving into Philip's own childhood) and, the delving into the Wallis and David being Nazi sympathizers/the brief returns of Jared Harris and John Lithgow, Matthew Goode doing the absolute MOST!!! with Vanessa Kirby in that absorbing fail relationship... It was a lot. Even the Kennedy episode couldn't sink this ship!!!

Season 4--Olivia Colman had some adjusting to do (and so did Helena Bonham-Carter, though to a lesser extent; imo, the Matt Smith -> Tobias Menzies pipeline was the easiest transition the show ever had, and it's in part because Philip had such a personality transition due to his arc in season 2, so Tobias playing a more settled if still wistful for what could have been Philip who'd become Elizabeth's attack dog made sense) but she was fully settled into this cold but also weirdly funny Elizabeth, so out of touch and brittle yet also comically so. But let us be real, Josh O'Connor and Emma Corrin OWNED this season. The thwarted chemistry of the Australia episode. The transformation from shy Di to broken wife to resolved and jaded icon who's decided to break off and also use her influence for good. ALSO, the only PM performance that matched Lithgow's was Gillian Anderson as Margaret Thatcher. Her chilly meetups with Elizabeth, the one PM than Peter Morgan seemed to acknowledge was never enamored with Liz (and I think he's exaggerated a lot with the others lol), the general looming doom she represents... Amazing. Plus, we get one-offs like Elizabeth choosing her favorite child and the show trying to dodge it being Andrew, Margaret's hot young thang though tbh the show severely condensed that relationship (wrong season but my thoughts remain lol) ... Perhaps the most bombastic season, amazing.

Season 1--a great setup of so many issues that would follow Elizabeth, the only season where we see "the woman", fab setting in with Claire, Matt, and Vanessa, and incredible performances from John Lithgow and Jared Harris (who legit never fails to make me cry when he looks at his family for his last Christmas and starts crying). The "I ASK YOU TO MAKE AN EXCEPTION FOR ME"/"... no" scene with Matt and Claire is an example of their magic together. And I say this as someone who has never found Matt Smith compelling in any other role ever. Also, the way Vanessa Kirby made such a splash with her resentful anger at Elizabeth... God.

Season 3--I was initially frostier on this season, but upon rewatch it's still good TV and had some great standout moments. Tobias Menzies is an excellent Philip, and of course you get the introduction of Josh O'Connor, whose Wales episode and monologue about how he won't be a complete person until his mother dies (when we all know Charles will never be a complete person)... So good. It does suffer from the transition a bit, and I'll be real, I don't think Emerald Fennell really worked as Camilla at any point on the show. This also began the serious issue the show has with really glossing over the complexities of Camilla and her relationship with Charles--the idea that they had this straightforward star-crossed lovers thing, the omission of his other women and her genuine love for her husband and dislike of the idea of being Charles's wife versus his mainstay mistress... Meh. But still, good TV with some great performances. And I'll never be over "MUMMY I HAVE A VOICE"/"no one wants to hear it". One of the coldest takedowns I've ever seen on television, lol. Josh and Olivia were great together. (Also: a really good Anne, especially in this season.)

Season 5--there were things to like about this season. But ultimately, it was a flop. Elizabeth Debicki is such a good older Diana ("older" as in a woman who never even hit 40... Jesus) but the show seems like it couldn't decide between her being a little girl lost who was so easily manipulated, and a spoiled brat who was just upset that Charles didn't love her!!! I find Imelda Staunton horribly miscast as this rather watery Elizabeth, which is a very odd transition from the seemingly-silly-but-deeply-cold woman Olivia played. Jonathan Pryce could've played a really good Philip, had he had a script, and same with Lesley Manville. Dominic was a total miscast as Charles, and go from the FABULOUS scene with Josh O'Connor screaming at Emma Corrin about how she needs to be nicer to his mistress to this guy who's like. Breakdancing with the kids, because he sooooo loves the At Risk Youths (which is so racially coded, and looks a lot worse now that we know Charles is one of the people who asked about Archie's skin tone). The whitewashing of Charles in the last two seasons of the show is INSANE. One standout is the episode about Mohamed Al-Fayed because Salim Daw is an ACTOR!!!! baby but the show is also incredibly fetishistic and offensive in its treatment of the Fayeds so. At what cost. I find it rather odd that the show missed an opportunity to track the interesting angle of Philip and Diana's relationship after s4 (Tobias and Emma were great together, of course) because Philip really was advocating for her on some level up until the last minute in Charles and Diana's marriage (when Diana was like "UMMMM REMEMBER HOW YOU SPEAK TO YOUR BETTERS ROYAL WHITE TRASH" lmao because she did legitimately have bluer blood than Philip) and that's the kind of quirky thing The Crown used to thrive on.

Season 6--Again, Debicki and Salim Daw give strong performances (as does Khalid Abdalla as Dodi, but he barely gets time, so). Again, the Fayeds get a horrible treatment from the script, but in terms of acting probably the best moment of season 6 was Mohamed's reaction to Dodi's death. Otherwise, pretty horrible. Ghost Diana was bizarrely handled. This fiction that Charles and Diana were on good terms in the end was... lmao. She hated that man. Anyway, it was laughably bad, William and Harry were hopelessly miscast (justice for Harry, lol, PM dropped some obvious hints that he was less than happy with the royal family but I'm like my guy you really could've done more, give us stronger Chaos Harry foreshadowing you coward) and it just ended so weirdly. I hate.

Man, what a ride. I will always love the first four seasons. But damn, it crashed and burned.