#but what i wanted to say was how each boy represents a certain color in the rainbow so me falling in love with each of them at some point

[twomiddlefingersforthehaters]

Volume 38 is quite an interesting volume, and its cover is more like a romantic novel cover. Kishi gives it an orange sky background. Orange it is a warm and vibrant color that can help to convey excitement, action, attraction, fascination and energy. Orange color commonly used in movie posters because these colors can evoke feelings of warmth, passion, which are ideal for certain genres such as action or romance. Orange represents desire, passion, and love. And Orange symbolizes love and happiness.

In this volume we see naruto's longing for Sasuke. Naruto is very happy or satisfied knowing that his chakra nature matches Sasuke's fire type. He developed Rasen-Shuriken by continuously keeping Sasuke in his mind.

After being hospitalized due to the after-effects of using the Rasenshuriken, he and Sakura are alone here, this is his best chance to flirt with her, but he reverts back to Sasuke again. He is not worried about the consequences of using Rasenshuriken. Instead he emphasizes about how they're getting closer to Sasuke and is very happy about it.

In the previous scenario, Naruto was brainrotting about Sasuke, and when sai & sakura approached him he lied that he was devising a date with Sakura. If you say he lied because he didn't want to worry her about Sasuke…if that's the problem, then he shouldn't lie about dating her when he's thinking about another boy. He could have said, "I was just thinking about Sasuke…how to save him…blah blah blah…" Kishimoto could have easily done something like this, but he spent an entire page showing that Naruto lied about thinking about a date with a girl, but the fact is that he was thinking about a boy this whole time. To them, they don't know what's on his mind... but to the readers, it gives a hint that he's gay but closeted (trying to hiding it from others). His lying makes it more ambiguous and more obvious that he loves Sasuke...but not in a brotherly or friendly way.

While eating ramen with his teammates at Ichiraku, Naruto suddenly looked unhappy, quiet, depressed, and soulless.

Sasuke is what makes Naruto so determined. He developed the Rasenshuriken to save Sasuke from Orochimaru. He doesn't mind getting seriously injured while using his jutsu as long as he gets to closer to Sasuke and able to rescue him. So, when it comes to Sasuke, Naruto won't listen to anyone's advice to the contrary, no matter who gives it and how well-intentioned. That's why he suddenly shut Kakashi up with a smile.

Come to think of it, it wasn't the first time he shut others down when the subject was about Sasuke. Even though he was wrapped in bandages, his irritation was visible in his eyes. He doesn't care what happens to him, all that matters to him is Sasuke, which is why he doesn't like it when others try to get in between him and Sasuke or trying to stop him.

When Sasuke sees the bridge, he remembers Naruto and reacts to it with a calm gentle smile. While Sasuke is in his world of nostalgia he doesn't even hear Suigetsu talking to him.

Although the two do not interacting, yet, they are thinking about each other in this volume.

[niko-sasaki-dbd]

Queue Interview with the Dead Boy Detectives Cast 👻🔎

This is going to be a long post! (These are my favourite parts from the interview!)

George Rexstrew as Edwin Payne

Acting Inspiration

Oh, gosh. Well there are so many. Meryl Streep, obviously. Viola Davis, obviously. More recently, I was blown away by Enzo Vogrincic in Society of the Snow. And Eden Dambrine in Close.

Cast Camaraderie

I loved working with all my co-stars. I’m practically related to Jayden [Revri] and Kassius [Nelson] at this point. Yuyu [Kitamura] is a dream. Jenn [Lyon] is mother hen. Bri[ana Cuoco] is the cool older sister. Josh[ua Colley] is the cheeky cousin. Ruth [Connell] is the godmother who gives you a card and £20 for your birthday. It really is one big happy dysfunctional family. I’m grateful for all of them, on and off camera.

Jayden Revri as Charles Rowland

Dressing The Part

These heads of departments, and Monique and Kelli, [they’re] unbelievable. They were so collaborative. We went through different hairstyles and different things we could do with the makeup. We added a bit of eyeliner for [Charles] just to make it feel more 80s. And then Kelli, I mean, it was like she did her research on me. She added badges to the jacket which kind of represented me as Jayden, before I even got there. It wasn’t until I got the haircut, put the makeup on, put the costume on, and I was like, Okay, this is Charles.

Cast Camaraderie.

The vibe was just incredible. Me and George, we really wanted to set the tone for the series and make sure that everyone’s having fun and it’s an environment where we could all talk about how we’re feeling. We were just such a big support blanket for each other. If there was ever a time that somebody needed space, or they wanted to prep themselves for a certain scene they were going to film, we all respected that and we were each other’s cheerleaders the whole entire time. And it’s still the same to this day now. I think it really shows when you watch the series that we all knew what we were making and we wanted to make something that we would want to watch, which we’ve all done. I cannot shout out my castmates enough. Forever grateful.

Kassius Nelson as Crystal Palace

Acting Inspiration

I watched a lot of animation. I used to watch the Addams Family, the black-and-white one, because I didn’t have Disney Channel or anything. Monk, Murder She Wrote, I was watching those things, so maybe I was actually destined to play a detective, now that I’m thinking about it. I watched a lot of cartoons and animations. I just liked the idea that I could be engrossed in another world. And I always wanted to know what happened next, or when the film finished, I would be like, “Okay, but then what? What happens after that?” And now I get to be part of that question or that answer (...).

Dressing the Part

We have a fantastic costume designer, Kelli Dunsmore. I always say that she literally wove the story into the fabric of the clothes, because there are things that she foreshadowed in the clothing that happened episodes later. Or, if characters start to get in some sort of relationship with each other, that will be reflected in the clothes that they wear or the colors that they have. Or, if they’re feeling any type of emotion, (...)l. Crystal wears these massive platform boots that must be about four or five inches. They’re huge, very heavy, but it’s funny because they change the way that you walk. (...) She’s not very light, which makes sense with the things that she’s going through and the experiences that she’s having. Practically, it helped, because Jayden and George are like six-foot-something. So, if I film a scene and I’m at the bottom of the lens and they’re up there, that helped. I’ve got a good couple inches on my feet.

Yuyu Kitamura as Niko Sasaki

Acting Inspiration

Sandra Oh is a woman that I will forever be indebted to because who she was on Grey’s Anatomy was so formative for me. The most interesting thing about her character was not that she was Asian, but that she was such a fully fleshed person with flaws and amazing qualities. And her work ever since I think has been iconic, so she’s a woman that I deeply look up to.

Landing the role in Dead Boy Detectives

I auditioned from Hong Kong and my dad was my reader because all of my acting friends were in New York. My dad was able to carve out time and be an amazing reader. And in that audition side, it’s the scene where Niko gets to see the “Dead Boys” for the first time, and there’s a line in there that was something along the lines of me talking to Edwin and asking, “Do you two make out with each other?” And my dad stopped the tape and he was like, “What are you reading for?” And I was like, “Don’t give me notes, it’s fine!” And so that was the audition process! I think within a month I found out I got the part and it’s been an absolute dream ever since.

Dressing the Part

(...) I think on paper Niko can seem like a certain type of character, but even in the choice of every costume we did, every color that she wears, every meticulous little piece about everything from her nails to her room, it’s so well curated and thought out. Through her journey, we also find that she’s a woman that wears what she feels. On the surface, she might seem like the most joyful, young, optimistic girl, but it’s the inner confidence and bravery where we find that she’s layered, and she is very much a young woman coming of age.

SOURCE: MEET THE REAL DEAD BOY DETECTIVES (AND FRIENDS)

[ashensgrotto]

A Merfolk's Melody (Epilogue)

Characters: Yan!Floyd x Reader, Yan!Jade x Reader, Yan!Azul x Reader

Word Count: 13.5k

Intro    Floyd Leech   Jade Leech   Azul Ashengrotto Epilogue (You Are Here)

Synopsis: The sea always calls to those who feel lost and alone, wanting to fill the empty part of their soul until they are loved and full… and as such, it’s only fair that the strange creatures that live beneath it’s depths would want the same as well…

Author’s Note: Another 4-part fanfiction courtesy of @merakiui ‘s headcannnons of the reader being stuck in a room/wall (I’m sorry) -> https://www.tumblr.com/merakiui/722393818829373440/in-addition-to-being-stuck-in-a-locked-room?source=share & https://www.tumblr.com/merakiui/722677892623056896/about-the-stuck-in-a-wall-trope-in-the-oceani?source=share

Here’s how it’s going to work: each character is going to get their own part following the intro. It is going to focus on the Octrio again (bc it’s my current liking, sorry guys). If you want to read a certain character’s part, feel free to jump around and select the one you’re most interested in. 

Again, as stated before, this is a work of fiction; I disagree with any and all behaviors that are represented in this story.

****

Beyond the waves and shoreline, down a path that led a little ways inland, the village that lived on the peaceful coast began their days. Children raced down the streets as shops opened up - people lining the doorways along with tourists to schedule and prepare for a wondrous day. Just as the last of the shops opened for business, a familiar little gray kitten, trotted into the village - calling for help at passersby and hooking his claws into pants and skirts, even skin to get attention.  

“Grimmy?” one of the children noticed the cat’s odd behavior, “What’s wrong?”

The cat tugged on the boy’s shorts, pulling him along as he and a few of the other children followed along - curious to know what had gotten Grimmy so nervous.

It didn’t take long for word to get back to the village that you had gone missing.

The villagers dropped what they were doing, racing towards the coastline, while others headed for the docks - climbing into fishing boats to head out to the open water to see if you had been caught in a drift, and a few headed up towards your cabin by the sea - hoping to see you hiding among the weeds that grew on the property. No one could call out to the coast guard yet - they had to wait at least twenty-four hours before they could set up a search-and-rescue - but the least the village could do was search where they could reach; spreading out along the shoreline and beach as they search high and low for any clues to figure out what had happened to you.

After about an hour of searching, the shawl you had worn was found washed up against the rocks - the thin fabric torn and drenched from the crashing tide.

“We have to keep looking,” someone spoke up as everyone inspected the shawl to confirm if it was yours or not, “She’s too young to have taken her life… too young to try…”

“Who said anything about her life being taken?” an unfamiliar voice called out.

Those on the shoreline turned their heads to see a stranger approach. They were unlike anyone they had ever seen before - skin pale like paper with hair dark like the rocks that lined the shores, eyes shifting between the colors of green and brown with hints of blue depending on how the light hit them. The stranger stopped before the crowd, turning their head toward the sea that battered against the shoreline.

“The sea always calls to those who feel lost and alone, wanting nothing more that to fill that emptiness inside until they are loved and full,” the stranger spoke as their eyes shifted back to the crowd before them, “... and as such, it’s only fair that the strange creatures that live beneath its depths would want the same as well.”

“Are you saying that (Y/N) was taken… by merfolk?” someone asked in disbelief.

“There are many things we do not know about because we live and thrive on the surface,” the stranger answered, “Who are we to say what is real and what is not - even if we had never seen them ourselves?”

The stranger held up their hand as someone attempted to argue, “Need I remind all of us what happened all those years ago with our elderly fisherman friend who lived in that same cabin? He disappeared as well, taken by the sea. Be thankful that it wasn’t one of your children that made a pact with the creatures beneath the surface of the ocean.”

Silence fell upon the crowd, thoughts running rampant.

“I know all of you fear what we do not know,” the stranger spoke again, “However - here is my suggestion; return to your homes and your busy lives… forget this event ever happened,” the stranger shrugs then, “If anyone asks, only tell them what you know - (Y/N) disappeared one morning, likely while on the shoreline to visit the beach that she enjoyed as a child and had visited consistently the week leading up to her disappearance.”

Many of those took the stranger’s words into consideration, agreeing that nothing could be done - at least not until tomorrow when the twenty-four hour deadline was up. Eventually, everyone filed away - traveling back up the pathway back to the village one by one.

As the last person disappeared behind the rocky edge, the stranger turned to the cat who sat at their feet disheartedly.

“Come, come, Grim,” the stranger knelt down and scooped the cat into their arms, “You and I both knew that it would come to this.”

The cat grumbled before hissing.

“You might be right in that,” the stranger answered, scratching the top of his head as their eyes looked up toward the village, “Humans… can be so so greedy - but, a deal’s a deal. Maybe they will learn their lesson this time around.”

They turned toward the water as it bubbled around their form, clothing fading into silvery skin, smooth like stones, and deep neon blue rings formed along their lower half.

“Come, Grim - and tell me all about what transpired during my time away from these shores…”

[trashy-corvian]

You draw the twins real funky (I like it) so could I perhaps ~inquire~ what some of your body headcanons for them are?

Sup~ And thank you🖤

Now, do i have some headcanons?

General

While not strict, demon can be sorted into different categories. Some of them are: avian, reptile, fish, amphibian, insectoid, mammal and hybrid.

There a lot of arguing abot how to better categorise them, some demonologist argue that there is no such thing as "fish" type, while others say that arachnids should be considered a seperate type

Each brother, exept Mammon, represent the most common type present in their Ring

Mammon is a hybrid type. Hybrids aren't common but most of them come from the Greed Ring, some demons like to joke that "greed demons wanted to take all the good traits for themselves"

Body hair and fat are traits most often associated with mammal types but other demons can easily have those of they so wish and/or they lifestyle made them like that

Genitals are not a fixed thing. Demons are flexible like that. I also believe that demons are most lax when it comes to this stuff. Angels used to have the most strict gender policies until humans became-waves hand- like this

Lucifer

Avian type

Has the body type like those horny Lucifer statues, you know the ones

Scars. A lot of them. The biggest is a mix of old wounds and burns that starts at his ribs and goes to the mid thigh

He covers them up with clothes but refuses to glamour them

Suffers from chronic pain, especially in his back

Bird feet, with talons✨️

Mammon

Hybrid type

Slutty waist🖤

Lean body with some muscle definition. My boy has to look a certain way in order to be a model

Used to have scars but glamoured them

The fastest among the brothers, rivaled only by Barbatos among the high ranking demons

His horns are a nightmare to maintain. Before Mc he used to spend a lot of money on salons

Fuffy hair, like, the fluffiest~

Leviathan

Reptile type

Covered in the most pretty scales you'll ever see, compliment him!

Very tall, very skinny, a beanpole basically

Has an ucanny long limbs

Unhingable jaw, like in this one movie where old lady almost ate a child

Very strong tail, can lift things and people. He once used it to toss Mammon across the room.

Uses the fish in his giant tank to clean his horns

Has lighter colored scales instead of scars

Satan

Mammal type

Hooves, man

Can and will break your foot if you piss him off

The guy is a reader. No muscles, soft body and a belly.

Moderate amount of body hair but it's so light you can hardly see it at first

Another owner of great hair, so silky and soft~

Once tried to pierce Lucifer with his horn. It was awkward for everyone involved

Asmodeus

Arachnid type

No muscle whatsoever. Still slim, like those pretty anime boys

Mandibles that come out when he's excited

Managed to avoid getting any big scars or at least he says so. His body is heavily glamoured

Scorpion tail isn't just for show, darling. Be careful

Can withstand the most extreme temperatures but who would put this beauty in such conditions. He will complain all the the time while his less adjusted brothers are literally dying of heat/cold

Beelzebub

Insect type

Strongman body because i said so

Grows body hair to make Belphie feel better about his body

Stamina and strength is off the charts

Buzzes when happy or excited

Unhinged jaw and mandibles, also long tube-like tongue

A lot of scars, i haven't drew them but oooh boy Beel is covered in old wounds

Belphegor

Mammal type

Black spots across the body

Tall as Beel but slouches most of the time

Actually really malnourished, you can see his ribs and hipbones

I headcanon him getting slowly better though

A lot of thick black body hair

For the love of Demon King, brush his tail i beg you

Constant stubble, he can shave but it will grow back the next day

No hooves because he hates the constant maintenance they require

Forgets to eat because he unconsciously taps into Beel's eating, but ,unlike his twin, he doesn't suffer from constant hunger so he often feels full while in reality he hasn't eaten in days

[h0neybane]

ZVA worldbuilding

just some world building for my ghibli-inspired-twst school, zephyr valley academy! this'll all be in a similar order to the one of the wiki page for night raven college

enrollment:

you can definitely apply to get in but i do think some students are handpicked for different reasons!

i think one of the best parts of ghibli films are the walking shots. moments in which characters are just walking to their next destination and you get to see the environment and detailing in the background... i think hayao miyazaki called them something, but i cant remember what it is.

the reason i bring this up is because i think when students are enrolled in ZVA, since the academy is in such a remote and rural area, they're dropped off at a certain point and then have to travel on foot to the building for the entrance ceremony. i dont think it's a long walk by any means: maybe like 30 minutes max and that's pushing it.

but i do think there are a lot of sights the students get to see while walking there. mountainsides, fields, lakes, undisturbed by society.. it's a very peaceful place. i also think maybe the walk should be timed with the sunrise? just cus its cool

during the entrance ceremony each student will receive a broach with their magestone, in which the color matches their dorm (link in next point!)

i mentioned this in my original uniform post, but also during the entrance ceremony, incoming first years recieve an enchanted leaf laurel and boa (shown here) that doesn't have any flowers. throughout their time at the academy, flowers representing them will sprout from the leaves. here's a timeline of the progression of the flowers:

first year: pretty much empty at the start of the year. little sprouts may begin to grow throughout their first year, and most have 2-5 small flowers. especially exceptional students may already have one or two bigger flower buds

second year: more sprouts start to grow, lots of wild variants; i think the second year is where students begin to experiment a little. by the end of the year, most have bigger flowers waiting to bloom. some exceptional students will have fully bloomed flowers already

third year: big flower buds begin to bloom throughout the year. many have grown a lot as mages over their time. by the end of the year, third year students will have rows of flowers around their shoulders and head.

fourth year: fully bloomed. students enter internships and graduate :]

ALSO the boa and laurel change colors with the seasons until it goes into full bloom where its enchanted to always be healthy and bloomed

i think itd make sense for ZVA to have a large (at least larger than usual) fae population considering how nature-connected it is...

ZVA is a co-ed school!!! both girls and boys attend!!!

history:

i feel like ZVA is younger than NRC and RSA but not by very much! where NRC and RSA are 500 years old (i'm saying 500 for simplicity sake; according to the wiki, it's AT LEAST 500), ZVA would probably be 400-300 years old.

here are the figures each dorm is based on, in no particular order (some of these are undecided and will be added later!)

the wizard of ingary (howl from howl's moving castle)

totoro

i cant decided between kaonashi (no face) or haku for spirited away... maybe i'll do a special case where the dorm itself is split into two?

undecided (ponyo)

undecided but im considering doing an offshoot dorm/group based around that boar thing from the start of the movie.. (princess mononoke)

castle in the sky (undecided)

undecided (kiki's delivery service... it might just be kiki but i need to watch the movie before i decide)

i dont have any values for them for now (like how heartslabyul is based on queen of hearts and her severity, savanaclaw is based on king of beasts and tenacity, etc) but i think ill come up with them after some watching...

i also want to add traces of other movies that arent dorms! maybe in events or classes? speaking of events...

traditions and events:

VDC/SDC is definitely one of them! i think they get pretty far in the competition for the cute peaceful vibes but then i think they get beat out by nrc and rsa LOL

interdorm magift/spelldrive: i dont think theyre like SUPER GOOD but also i do think they've won a couple of times

i mentioned this as a serencor (howl dorm) tradition but wouldnt it be so cute if there was a hat-making event honoring sophie... LIKE IMAGINING HOWL MAKING IT A THING JUST FOR HER... AUGUHGJHGJ

halloween: i think itd be interesting if some of the creepier stuff from ghibli films popped up here (say, no face/kaonashi and the boar worm god thing from princess mononoke)

something spirited away related. i DONT KNOW WHAT but its spirited away related.

reputation:

ZVA is known for its nature and being super duper peaceful!! it has a really good reputation among the public and its up there with RSA and NRC!

but at the same time i think itd be so funny if some of the other magic schools made fun of them for being hippies or something LMFAO

uniforms: (i WILL draw all these ideas i PROMISE)

i already did the normal school uniform (here) but i do think there are variations to it for summer and winter! like NRC, ZVA provides a winter coat and has an alternate summer uniform (it's pretty much just the same but short silk socks instead of stockings or kneesocks and short sleeved shirts)

ceremonial robes: i have no idea yet but im so excited to design them... im thinking going in the direction of a kimono or yukata as a homage to ghibli being based in japan

pe uniform: im sorry but nrc's PE uniforms are so. ugly. i think maybe a t-shirt and some shorts + socks? classic

labwear: pretty much the same as nrc's tbh. lab safety is important chat (IM LOOKING AT YOU 90% OF TWST CAST. PUT YOUR FUCKIN HAIR UP)

that's all i have for now! but i will make another one continuing on this tomorrow probably! as always, feel free to give me input!

[fawndlyvenus]

So, I want to share something that’s been sitting in my brain since KinnPorsche the Series aired. I’m a person who loves seeing colors and their meanings in the media I consume, as well as seeing how those colors connect to characters and become like a calling card for them. And oh boy does KPTS do that often. And one thing I’ve seen over and over again is that when Pete is on screen, – and somehow Vegas is involved – the color green appears.

In either lighting, clothing, and/or background items/decorations. And yes, green lighting is shown in scenes where neither is involved, or just Vegas, but it’s most common with Pete.

The meal that Vegas barges in on at the main home where Pete is present? Green lighting.

Pete in the car with the condoms and Vegas? Green lighting.

Pete snooping in the minor home and getting caught? Green shutters and Vegas in a green robe.

Pete being tortured? Green lighting.

Pete in the safe house? Green lighting.

Pete afterwards in the tub after his escape? Green lighting.

Vegas when he is pretty much confessing to Porsche about his feelings for Pete and swearing he’ll keep him safe no matter what? Green silk shirt.

Now, I know what you’re saying, “This sounds almost like Vegas is the green color.” Or “Well green can mean this thing, so it’s not really connected to Pete.” And yes, you are probably correct, but this is where it gets interesting. (Also this is just my personal take. So anything else is also valid.)

We know how Pete is as a character, right? Well look at what we find when we look at the color green:

“Green is a very down–to–earth color. It can represent new beginnings and growth. It also signifies renewal and abundance. Alternatively, green can also represent envy or jealousy, and a lack of experience. In spiritual terms, the color green implies beginnings, new growth, vibrant health, and other ideas connected with life, rebirth, and renewal.”

Now, does some of that sound familiar? These are all things that you can tie to Pete. Down-to-earth, lack of experience (you all know), beginnings, new growth, rebirth/renewal, and even envy or jealousy (from what I’ve seen people talk about how Pete felt about Porsche at certain points.) These are parts of Pete and his journey throughout KPTS.

Even more interesting is when you look into green in terms of love:

“What does the color green mean in love?

Green is the color of the heart chakra, symbolizing love to others, forgiveness, compassion, understanding, transformation, warmth, sharing, sincerity and devotion.”

Now tell me that isn’t Pete’s love for others, but especially Vegas. That’s basically how Pete loves Vegas down to the letter in the series.

But let’s also look at Vegas while we’re here. So I know most of the fandom pins Vegas’ color as red (I do too) and when you go back and look at certain scenes (the torture and safe house scenes for example) you see both colors. And the show almost always seems to add the red once Vegas enters, and even frames them accordingly to their colors. So of course we have to look at that.

Now what’s interesting is red and green are opposites, yet complimentary colors on the color wheel. One could almost say two things that are the same yet different. (Yes, I am implying Vegas and Pete being similar, yet different right now.) But let’s take an even closer look at the colors and what they represent when compared to each other:

“Red is a color of vigor and energy. It represents passion, urgency and grabs instant attention. It can also cause you to feel hunger, which is why it is used in food and beverage logos.” Now who does this sound like? Grabs instant attention, vigor and energy, but above all else causing you to feel hunger?

“Since red is the color of blood, it has historically been associated with sacrifice, danger, and courage. Modern surveys in Europe and the United States show red is also the color most commonly associated with heat, activity, passion, sexuality, anger, love, and joy.” And now we bring blood, danger, sacrifice, passion, sexuality, anger, love, and joy into the mix as well? Seems pretty spot on with Vegas.

“Green, on the other hand, is a color of peace, rejuvenation, nature, cleanliness, and fertility.” So when compared to red, green is its opposite: bringing peace, a rebirth of some sorts, and cleanliness (like washing away the sins of your past perhaps?). But also note how some similarities still are there.

Now one last look at the colors. I feel like this one is the big kicker for these two, and really sells Pete as green, and Vegas as Red: “Green speaks to our desire to foster understanding and acceptance between people and to see the potential value and goodness of each person. Green does not represent the color of love on the level of passion between two people. Throughout history, red has been the color of passion, romance, and sexual energy.”

That to me is Pete. If nothing else, that is Pete as a character and how you see him in his time at the safe house. He tries over and over to understand Vegas, see the value and goodness in him, as well as acceptance for who he is and of his past. You can even boil it down to just how Pete is as a person and how he loves/cares for people in general.

And when we look at the love on a romantic or just simply passion level, we see how Vegas and Pete are different. Vegas – like most people in his family – loves people to obsession. Once he loves you, he will do anything for you. He cannot and will not let anything or anyone harm Pete. He brings the intensity and sexual energy that we never really get from Pete. Pete loves in a more nurturing and compassionate way. Vegas comes in like a fire, whereas Pete comes in like a gentle rain on a summer day.

But when they two come together (look at me bringing things back around again) they compliment each other, and both take from one another. Pete learns to be more rage and heat. Finds that hunger and passion that he never had before. Finds the love and sexuality that he never explored or was aware of in his life.

Vegas cools down some of his heat and rage, and brings in the compassion and understanding of others (even if we only get to see it briefly with people like Porsche and Pete.) And we even see him entering his rebirth right before he gets shot and afterwards. Him finding that peace and devotion. That warmth and his own love that he never had before.

Red and green are two colors that work perfectly (again, in my opinion) for these two as “their colors”, but also to give us more depth and insight into two characters who didn’t get as much time and development as others. Complimentary, yet opposites. The same, yet different. Two people that you would never expect to come together, yet are soulmates through and through for one another.

One ruby heart, now speckled with beautiful emeralds. One lush and green heart, now blooming beautiful red blossoms.

[jadetheblueartist]

I just read that ask about autism and your diagnosis and I find it so fascinating! (Idk if that’s weird to say I just rlly like phycology and brain things :D)

I was wondering what the… yikes I forgot the name …the DSM-5 criteria was? (Was that the name? I think it was something like that) and I’d love to hear about any other experiences you’d like to share!

(Feel free to inform this!)

So not weird! I also find it fascinating and am quite interested in psychology ^^ that being said, I will now jump into this ask with glee hahaha I’ll be adding a cut bc this is a bit of a doozy :3

Before we get into it, I just want to address a common misconception about how the autism spectrum works. Many people believe it is a spectrum ranging from a little autistic to a lot autistic. This, however, is FAKE NEWS. The autism spectrum really looks more like this:

Each section of the wheel represents a trait, and depending on the person, the color will fill the area more or less.

Another quick thing to keep in mind is that most of the current autism research has been done on boys. This means the traits used in the DSM-5 may show up differently in girls. This is something that’s being talked about more, so you could look into it. For this though, I’ll just do what is in the DSM-5.

The DSM-5 (The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders: 5th Edition) criteria is arranged in a way I will describe as “rounds.” In order to move on to the second round, you must experience a certain amount of traits in the first, and so on.

In the first round (Criteria A) you must experience all three of the traits.

-Criteria A: “Persistent deficits in social communication and social interaction across multiple contexts, as manifested by the following, currently or by history:”

1. “Deficits in social-emotional reciprocity”

2. “Deficits in nonverbal communicative behaviors used for social interaction”

3. “Deficits in developing, maintaining, and understanding relationships”

(The DSM-5 uses the word “deficits,” while some [myself included] prefer to use the word differences)

The next round (Criteria B) requires at least two of the traits be met to move on.

-Criteria B: “Restricted, repetitive patterns of behavior, interests, or activities, as manifested by at least two of the following:”

1. “Stereotyped or repetitive motor movements, use of objects, or speech”

2. “Insistence on sameness, inflexible adherence to routines, or ritualized patterns of verbal or nonverbal behavior”

3. “Highly restricted, fixated interests that are abnormal in intensity or focus”

4. “Hyper- or hypo-reactivity to sensory input or unusual interest in sensory aspects of the environment”

And finally, the last three round must all be present.

-Criteria C: "Symptoms must be present in the early developmental period (but may not become fully manifest until social demands exceed limited capacities, or may be masked by learned strategies in later life)."

-Criteria D: “Traits cause clinically significant impairment in social, occupational, or other important areas of current functioning."

(The DSM-5 uses the word “symptoms”, while some [myself included] prefer to use the word “traits.”)

-Criteria E: “These disturbances are not better explained by intellectual disability or global developmental delay”

For a more thorough breakdown of what each of these traits mean or may look like in practice, this is the website I referenced when making this.

Another thing the DSM-5 utilizes is support levels. Level 1 would be requiring support, Level 2 would be requiring substantial support, and Level 3 would be requiring very substantial support. I won’t get into these too much because they don’t quite make sense to me. For example, the amount of support I need may fluctuate based on my environment, the people I am with, or even how my week has gone. This type of thing also seems to also have the ability to improve or regress, so I don’t quite understand why this label is given. Regardless, it is part of it and some people do find it helpful so it’s worth mentioning.

And that seems to be it? Maybe I’m forgetting something, but this feels pretty good. Thanks for the ask, Moo! I always love getting to talk about this stuff.

[writernopal]

7 Snippets 7 People

Tagged by @talesofsorrowandofruin and @mariahwritesstuff, thank you both! See their posts here and here, respectively.

Tagging (gently): @captain-kraken @tabswrites @sarahlizziewrites @outpost51 @dragonedged-if @thewardenofwinter @thelivingdeceased and anyone else who'd like to do this!

One (Axtapor's POV)

Perhaps many would be intimidated by the sight of Lord Rojundrog, Seer of Clan Oxlo, laying eyes on them like this, but to me, he was just a crooked old man with a talent for making himself bigger than he ought to be. He was born from my grandmother’s first clutch and had unusual crimson scales, or rather, unusual for Clan Oxlo. While we lizards came in a variety of colors, certain clans tended to favor certain shades. Ours were hues of blue, black, gray, and purple with the exceedingly rare orchid pink that appeared once every few generations, so his crimson was, at the very least, curious.

Two (Axtapor's POV)

“That is why the start of each social season begins with a reading of rites. A stupid commemoration of those ineffectual ones who fail to consummate their union in that place, the way true Dreamers should, and instead end up with their brains splattered all over their marriage bed. However, it is a rather effective culling tool to eliminate those who should not be trusted with our power or with the duty of representing our House.”

Three (Axtapor's POV)

“I could bore you with the details, but I doubt you are all that interested when it comes to ladies’ fashion, so I will spare you.” She responded, folding her hands neatly in her lap.  “I be plenty interested in lady clothes when it be on the ground...” I remarked under my breath. Egra and Ulsei both eagerly slapped my head, while Idhi and my grandmother shared similar looks of dissatisfaction.  I frowned as I rubbed the warm spot of impact and turned my focus back on Lord Haphrex. “How will ye be gettin’ to the Hefredies?” “I’m afraid that is where we will have to impose on your expertise at sea, my lord.” He said, “Fisla has told me about how talented you are at sailing.” “Has she? Ye’s be right familiar usin’ given names...” I muttered. Egra kicked me and shot me a frown. I growled at her. “Ye wee bitch.” “Grandmama!” She whined. “Settle down.” My grandmother admonished us both with a frown.

Four (Axtapor's POV)

“Well, now that we are on the subject of my beau.” She teased, “What is your opinion of him?” I sighed, not really wanting to provide her with my thoughts about him. I didn't dislike him, but it was still odd for me to see them so close to each other all the time. My grandfather had never been tender with my grandmother the way that Lord Haphrex was. The most I’d ever seen my grandfather do was kiss her hand, and that was only because we’d been at a social event where he was obligated to do so. I supposed Lord Haphrex’s intimacy with her was strange because I wasn’t yet accustomed to seeing someone be so openly affectionate towards her in a romantic way. There was something sad about that.

Five (Axtapor's POV)

“Then, if you can’t say, please, look out for yourself. You know that I care for you very much. But how you worry me, you troublesome boy—!” She let out a strained laugh in a poor attempt to hide the glittering of tears in her eyes. I squared my jaw and did my best to hold her gaze, but it was hard to when she cried.  “What be ye on about? I be a man grown now, proper as so, nay a boy.” I teased her weakly.  She let out another laugh, and this time her tears fell. “Oh no, you will always be a boy to me, hatchling. That same little boy who loved eating sweets from all the town stalls. When was the last time I treated you to something like that, hmm?” I laughed softly this time and pulled her into an embrace. “Right, long while.”

Six (Fay's POV)

Their coin was clean, and if the knights were pleased with that merchant’s quality of goods, they would certainly return with their business and that of other knights. And knights were easy to swindle. They paraded around in their fancy armors and capes, blithely unaware of how absurd they looked, dragging their velvets through piles of shit and stepping in vomit with their ignorant boots. They didn’t care for their belongings; that much was clear, so for a greedy merchant, they were endless fonts of gold.

Seven (Axtapor's POV)

“Lord Haphrex.” I greeted him with a small dip of the head.  “Lord Axtapor.” He responded with a similar gesture. “Tendin’ to business?” I asked as I saw him fold what looked like a bill of sale into his pocket. “One could say so.” He said, gesturing that I follow him with something of a busy look on his face.  I didn’t really want to have an extended chat with him, but I followed along anyway. “Fisla is saddened that you will be leaving us so soon, my lord.” He voiced as we took a leisurely pace toward one end of the harbor. It still irked me that he used her name so casually, but there was no real reason why he shouldn’t be able to, given their involvement. “Aye. I know.” “I do not like seeing her distressed, my lord.” He shot me a sidelong look this time. “That be...good.” I replied somewhat awkwardly.  What was he getting at? And what was that look from before? I hardly knew him well enough to be able to guess. He halted his advance and turned to face me. “So your mind is made up? You will not stay?” I sighed. “Did she put ye up to this?” “A man never reveals what a woman says to him in confidence, my lord.” He said with a slight frown. I pushed the leaves to the other side of my mouth impatiently. “I nay have time to be waggin’ tongues as so, my lord. What be it that ye want?”

[gillianthecat]

I did manage to prevent myself from taking notes on episode nine, but I think I do have to scream incoherently about it for a while. (I literally screamed out loud at the end and scared the real Gillian the cat.)

I just love this show so much! It keeps taking things in unexpected directions and surprising me but it always works. I remember watching the trailer a few months ago, back when I was very new to BL, and thinking, that looks fun and pulpy and silly - a brainless prep school melodrama. But how wrong I was - this show is so far from brainless. And while there is drama, and even arguably melodrama, I would say the prevailing mood has turned out to be tenderness.

I love Akk and Ayan and their relationship so much. And First and Khaotung are portraying them so well. I can feel all the love and tenderness and fear and lust and all the complicated emotions they have about each other. And the way they see each other and understand each other. Sometimes I don't really understand why characters fall in love with each other, but with these two I fully buy it. They are so similar, taking the world onto their own shoulders, and they see that in each other. (Besides of course the intense sexual attraction.)

That scene in the pool! The flirting and the smiles! That underwater kiss - it was very ITSAY, so much that I feel like it was an intentional influence. They're in this kind of slowly shifting holding pattern - their love acknowledged but also not - and it somehow feels very realistic.

The dinner scene with the mom. I loved her support for Ayan's crush. And then in her request to Akk to take care of Ayan - I understand why of course, but I also wanted to yell, Akk doesn't need any more demands on him! He's already under too much pressure from too many sides!

Oh and the scene with Kan and Ayan! That's one of the moments I meant by unexpected directions - I never would have thought of them as allies in romance, but of course they are. And just Kan an Thua in general. I love this meandering path they're taking toward each other, the small steps of courage. I love how they're able to find the bravery to be a certain kind of honest with each other behind the cover of "Bruce Wayne."

Nong, Nun and Nian, I love you and your courage so much. And they're winning people over! I love seeing the trickle of students supporting them growing larger and larger.

Namo is still mysterious to me. As is Sani in many respects. And hooray for Wat and his filmmaking project.

I also have thoughts about the school politics and the political metaphor, and also the plot, but those require thinking and analysis and not just squee-ing.

Some thoughts on the principal and the casting choice of a darker skinned woman to represent the highest authority in the school full of boys. (Colorism like this is not just an issue in The Eclipse, but it feels more jarring in a show as socially aware as this one.) And how she is still subject to the demands of the school board - representing the capitalists and business owners really in control of nations? And it seems like she may become more of a character in her own right rather than just a shady figure of authority. Her whole threat/reminder to Chadok - what is their history?

[softbinu]

and somehow, i found myself falling in love with the rainbow overtime

- Happy 4th Anniversary Astro!#Astro_Aroha_4ever 💜

[itsdanii]

Because I’m an angst-addicted ball of misery, is it okay if I request drabbles of Fuckboy!Atsumu and Fuckboy!Oikawa being the crush of the reader but she knows of how they treat other girls and doesn’t want to end up heart broken and since she’s shy and introverted, the boys barely know her aside from her being a classmate?

She tries to keep a simple distance away from them until said boys randomly show an interest in her and they start showing her attention, love, and treating her better than the girls they messed with until after a few weeks she overhears from them or their teammates that it’s out of pity/they were bored because Y/N seemed easy to mess with.

Y/N doesn’t let them know she overheard them, instead a switch is flipped and she’s emotionless around them and avoids them. When they ask why she’s like that, she simply says “I won’t let you hurt me like the others.” She basically treats them like they don’t exist (she’s friendly to everyone but them) and said f!boys regret it and bust their asses to fix everything between them (I read how you felt about full angst, so the reader just blocked their number, social media’s, and treat them like the plague until they prove that they truly love her or regret messing with her :) )

Hey, bub. Sorry for the slight delay! I hope you don't mind me making slight adjustments about the plot for my comfort 🥺 And uh... this drabble turned out to be a oneshot because I got carried away. I only did Atsumu's part which went over 3k+ works 👁️👄👁️ Anyway, I hope that you still like it. Have a good day, stay safe and hydrated! ♥️

Karma's a b*tch

genre: angst to fluff

warning/s: rude behavior (resolved), cursing, self doubt and insecurity(?), do message me if I missed any

a/n: please do read the warnings before you proceed. warnings have been put there for a reason

ft. fboy!atsumu miya, f!reader

never play with a girl's feelings. wanna know why? just read the title.

You stared at the back of Atsumu's head dreamily, your elbows propped on your desk as you basically ignored the world around you.

Contrary to the belief that noisy students always sat on the back, Atsumu and his twin were actually seated in front. Despite being in the middle of a class discussion, the two kept on chattering as if the teacher didn't exist. The teacher basically gave up already trying to shut them up since they never listened anyway.

You knew that she could've just sent them to detention but of course, who would do that to the miya twins? People almost worshipped them and your teacher wasn't excluded. Everytime she entered the room, you noticed how she would always cast a glance at the Miya twins and smile "politely."

The two, of course, took advantage of it. If it meant being able to get away with their noise by just simply smirking at the teacher in front of them, they'd do it. They already did anyways. They never did anything more than that though, and for some reason you were thankful that they never crossed that line.

You jolted up slightly when the bell suddenly rang, a loud yelp slipping past your lips out of shock. With your eyes widening like saucers, you felt your cheeks heating up when majority of your classmates turned their head towards your direction, some having a grin on their faces while the others having a look of displease.

However, their stare didn't matter as much as a specific person's did. A pair of brownish eyes stared at you intensely, his gaze so intense it was enough to make you almost squirm in your seat.

Feeling your heart rate picking up along with the shiver running down your spine, you looked down at your lap, successfully cutting your eye contact with Miya Atsumu - the guy you secretly liked despite being hailed as your school's certified f!ckboy.

"Make sure to finish all your requirements this upcoming weekend. You're all seniors so I have high expectations on your outputs, understood?"

With a series of "Yes, ma'am," the class was dismissed.

The room was filled with different noises - subgroups gossiping with each other, the footsteps of students hurrying their way out, the rustling of papers, clanking of chairs and the voices of the class representatives reminding the assigned people to clean properly.

It was lively, for them at least.

As for you, you preferred being alone. No, you weren't some weird nerd kid who acted as if they hated the world. Instead, you preferred categorizing yourself as one of those people who were naturally shy and introverted.

You don't really like crowds nor socializing. You've always opted on sitting by the corner, just enjoying the calmness silence brings you.

Grabbing your books from your desk, you stood up and made your way to the door, head casted a little downwards to avoid making eye contact with people, knowing that doing so will result to interactions, and who has time for interactions anyway? Certainly not you.

With the lack of paying attention, you failed to notice someone who was rushing their way out. Like a cliche movie, your body collided with them, the impact causing you to stumble backwards, loosening your grip on your books as they fell on the floor.

Luckily, the person behind you managed to catch you on time, their hand gripping the small of your back to keep your bum from meeting the floor.

"Whoa, there. Ya alright, princess?" spoke the familiar voice just behind your ear, his breath against your skin giving you small goosebumps.

Instantly, you jerked away. Turning around to face him, you bowed down while muttering continuous apologies. "Miya! I didn't mean to bump into you, I.. I swear. I was just walking out and then somebody j-"

Chuckling, Atsumu placed a hand on top of your head, giving your hair a small ruffle which eventually made you look up at him. "Calm down, I ain't mad at ya. No need to be so flustered."

With a stiff nod, you mumbled a small "Okay," before bending down to pick your books off the floor. You didn't fail to notice how your hands were trembling and you silently prayed to whoever diety was watching over you that Atsumu won't notice it.

"Yer y/n, right?" Atsumu asked as he bent down as well, one hand clutching your book as he let his finger trace over the name written on it. "A pretty name fer a pretty face like yers."

You wouldn't be surprised if he'd ask if you were doing okay because by now, you were a hundred percent sure that your face must be looking like a red tomato. "Thanks I guess," you said, giving him a shy smile before taking the book from his hand.

The small encounter was cut off by someone calling for Atsumu's name. Turning your head to the direction of the noise, you noticed Osamu walking towards you with a small frown on his face, one hand gripping the strap of his bag as he went on how they're going to have to run extra laps again if they ever got late for practice.

Atsumu only chuckled at Osamu before turning his focus back on you. With a cheeky smile, he booped the tip of your noise fondly. "Guess I'll see ya around, pretty thing. Careful not to stumble again, alright? Don't want another man catchin' ya."

With that, Atsumu went on his merry way, turning around one more time to send you a wink, chuckling as you gave him a slow wave before his figure disappeared from your vision as a mere dot.

"See ya later..." you whispered on thin air, lips unconsciously curling up as you stared at the direction he went off to. Once you snapped out of your daze, you bit your lip to stop yourself from squealing like a school girl in love.

Well, technically, you were a school girl in love, right?

That night, as you laid on your bed staring at your ceiling full of glow in the dark stars, you thought that maybe it wasn't so bad making conversations with people every once in a while.

-

The days went by pretty quickly.

At first, you thought that everything will be back to normal. After all, you never tried associating yourself with people. Your high school life was basically nothing but waking up early for school then going back home after class and then repeat.

However, something was strange. In fact, it was very strange. Not only were people trying to befriend you but the one and only Atsumu Miya was actually making an effort to talk to you, and to say that you were confused would be an understatement.

He basically didn't pay attention nor spared you a glance before, until that day you bumped into him.

You knew that it wasn't a good practice to judge someone based on what other people say but he wouldn't be called as your school's f!ckboy for nothing. He'd change his girlfriend almost every week as if he's only changing clothes, cruelly dump those who did not meet his certain standards and doesn't care even if a girl cries infront of him. Those are exactly why you tried not associating yourself with him nor his twin.

But there was something about Atsumu Miya that kept on drawing you in. You didn't know if it was his annoying piss colored hair, intense gaze, or the aura surrounding him. You couldn't help but wonder how someone like him, the exact type of person you swore you hated, managed to keep you attracted like a moth on to a flame.

It was weird.

And yet you loved it.

"Ya know y/n, ya kinda wound me," Atsumu said, plopping himself down beside you on the cafeteria.

With your hand clutching the chopsticks mid-air, you surveyed your area, noting how some heads, specifically the Inrizaki VBC's, turned to your direction. "Sorry, what do you mean?" you muttered as soon as your eyes met Atsumu's.

"I literally thought we're already friends when I saved yer ass from falling backwards," Atsumu answered before stuffing his mouth with an Onigiri, no doubt made by Osamu.

Placing your chopsticks down, you wiped your lips with some napkin before speaking up. "I'm sorry for asking this but... what's with the sudden interest, Miya?"

You were aware of how snappy you sounded, but in reality, it was your own defense mechanism acting up. Just how were you supposed to ignore him when it's he himself who kept on clinging to you?

"Hm, what do ya mean? Is it so hard to believe that I'm trying to befriend ya?" Atsumu tilted his head a bit to the side, his lips curling up into a smirk. "Why not try givin' me a chance, princess? That isn't so much to ask for."

You organized your now empty bento, placing it on the side before focusing your whole attention to the man in front of you. "I've seen how you treated girls before," you said with a low voice, averting your gaze from him to avoid melting into a puddle.

Damn stupid feelings.

"I see..." Atsumu said with a slow nod. "Then I guess that makes it more of a challenge."

Your eyebrows immediately furrowed upon hearing that, your curiosity spiking up at what his words meant. "Challenge? What do you mean?"

Instead of answering you, Atsumu just stood up, his bento in hand with the side of his lips curled up. "I'll see ya around, princess."

With that, you were left alone in your table, eyes still trained on Atsumu as he made his way back to the Inarizaki VBC's table. You watched as most of his friends chuckled while patting his back, some even sending a glance towards your direction.

Deciding that pondering over it would only be a waste of time, you stood up and made your way back to your classroom, failing to notice a grey haired Miya watching you.

-

You let out a small squeak as someone behind you reached for the same book you've been trying to get for almost 5 minutes now. Tilting your head back a little, you were met with an upside down vision of Miya Atsumu's face.

With your arms still raised in the air, you spun around to face him, your back flush against the bookshelf keeping you basically trapped. "Miya," you mumbled while looking up at him, one hand fisting the side of your skirt to release some pressure.

"Here," he simply said while handing you the book, obviously holding back from laughing at your flustered expression. "Don't worry, I ain't gonna try anythin' that would make ya uncomfortable. I was just passin' by and saw you strugglin'."

"And he even tucked my hair behind my ear!"

"He did that?" your cousin spoke from beside you.

Both of you were seated on top of your bed, legs crissed crossed as you gossiped about your interactions with Miya Atsumu.

For the past few weeks, you've been having encounters with Atsumu - in the cafeteria, in the library and even outside of school where he claimed that he was out to buy some ingredients for Osamu and only managed to bump into you "coincidentally". Name it and he'll be there.

With these constant encounters stirring up your feelings, you had to resort on calling your cousin for some girl time in order to save your sanity. Luckily, your parents had no objection. They were even happy that you were actually trying to open up to other people. It was only your cousin but according to your parents, "A small step is still a step."

Plopping your back on your bed, you grunted as you placed both of your hands on your cheeks. "Mhm. I just don't get it you know? He's basically this popular guy that plays volleyball, has a group of girls swarming over him and has the face and body that looks like it's been sculpted by God himself, and yet he's wasting his time on me."

You looked at your cousin with a small pout, one hand reaching out to poke her thigh. "Am I just overthinking things?"

With a breathy chuckle, your cousin laid down beside you. "Maybe? I can't really say for sure since I don't know this Miya guy except your description of him, but what I think is that you should give him a chance."

Hearing that, you laid on your side to face her, elbows propped up against the mattress as you rested your cheek on your palm. "Aila, have you been listening to me? He is a f! ckboy. Dangerous, treats girls like shit, and undeniably sexy. What if his sudden interest is only a one time thing? What if he's just messing with me?"

"And what if he isn't?" Upon hearing no reply, your cousin took your silence as her cue to continue. "What if people just labeled him as this so called 'f!ckboy' because that's what they perceive him to be? What if inside him is just someone who's vulnerable, trying to protect themselves from getting hurt by people so they end up hurting others first to save themselves from the pain? What if he's just waiting for someone who wanted to really know him, the real him? Would you really deprive him of that opportunity just because of what you hear from other people?"

"I... I don't know.."

"Miya isn't here to defend himself and I'm not trying to defend him, but don't you think you should at least give him the benefit of the doubt?" Aila smiled as she settled herself on a comfortable position. "Give him a chance, y/n. Everyone deserves to get one. It's up to him to prove whether he's worth the chance he was given."

You sighed deeply, letting her words sink in as you also shifted yourself on a comfortable position, raising your comforter up until it reaches just below your chin. "Then what happens if he isn't worth the chance he's given?"

With a hum, your cousin just shrugged. "Then you either forgive him and let it go or... give him the finger and tell him 'f!ck you' for messing with your feelings," she said with a short giggle.

"It's something only you in the future can decide. Goodnight, y/n."

With a thankful smile, you turned the lamp off as you whispered, "Mh, goodnight, Aila."

-

"Let's be friends," you said as you slammed a box of onigiri in front of Atsumu, a smacking sound resonating in the air making the rest of the boys look at your direction.

Even the sound of balls whooshing in the air stopped, replaced by the sound of them dropping suddenly on the gym's floor.

With his lips parted, Atsumu shifted his gaze from the onigiri, Osamu, Suna and you. "Ah..." he muttered as if he was just as shocked as you for having the guts to come inside the gym in the middle of their training.

Feeling your cheeks heating up out of embarrassment due to his lack of response, you looked down and started to fiddle with you fingers. "You said you wanted to be my friend and I kept on keeping my distance from you so I thought you might appreciate those onigiri as my peace offering." You scratched the back of your head before giving him an awkward smile. "A-anyway, that's all! I'll see you around, Miya!"

Atsumi could only watch you as you dashed out of the gym. Snapping out of his daze, he looked down at the box of Onigiri, smiling unconsciously as he noticed the sticky note posted on top with "Good luck on your practice, Miya! :))" written on it.

"Interestin'," Atsumu whispered before standing up, Kita's voice filling the air as he called the team back for practice.

-

It's safe to say that after that embarrassing moment, you became friends with Atsumu. You even became close with his twin because they were always with each other. It wasn't long then when the usual duo became three - Atsumu, Osamu, and you.

It was hard to adjust at first. Your female classmates would always glare at you and spout out some nasty remarks but the twins were always there to defend you. In fact, you even met the whole team and hanged out with them when you didn't have some academic tasks to finish.

It was fun, and you were thankful for your cousin who gave you the advise of giving Atsumu a chance.

But there was a downside on the situation.

Your feelings which you kept hidden for a long time was only growing day by day, and you were afraid that it was slowly showing signs.

How?

Everytime Atsumu was near, your heart would beat so fast that you felt like you just finished a 4 kilometer run. Your hands would become clammy, breath would hitch, and face would heat up whenever he teases you, and don't even forget to add that one time you literally froze when you spun around, only to come face to face with him - nose almost touching, lips ghosting against each other with only an inch keeping you apart.

You were playing a dangerous game and yet you had no intention of stopping, not knowing that it wasn't only you who had a secret.

Because Atsumu Miya was also playing a game - something much more dangerous than yours.

-

"Where's 'Tsumu?" you asked as you peeked your head inside the gym.

Kita, who was about to walk out, gave you a smile before opening the door wider for you to come in. "Atsumu's in the storage room. The twins made a mess again so I told them to go clean up before we start practice."

"Typical," you said with a short giggle. "Anyway, I'm just going to drop off Atsumu's hoodie that I borrowed last week. I'll watch over them while you do your business."

"That would be great. Thank you so much, y/n-san. Call me if something happens," Kita said, giving you a small nod before leaving.

As you entered the empty gym, you grimaced upon seeing something that looks like spilled milk on the floor. With a shake of your head, you made your way near the storage room sneakily in attempts of scaring Atsumu.

However, as you got closer, you heard two familiar voices. It was Atsumu's and Osamu's voice, and basing from the way they were speaking, it seemed as if they were in the middle of an argument.

"The fuck did ya say?" It was Osamu.

"I said I was only playin' with her. I mean, she's so easy, don't ya think? It basically only took me a couple of weeks and she came runnin' to me with that box of Onigiri, claimin' she wanted to be friends," Atsumu said, followed by a chuckle. "As if I didn't notice the way she acted around me. I'm telling ya, that girl is in love with me."

"And so, what if she is? That's not an excuse for ya to play with her feelings, dipshit."

Hearing Atsumu huff, you slightly backed away from the door, only to freeze when you heard his next words.

"Y/n is nothin' but a toy to me, somethin' I can dispose of when I got bored."

Biting your lower lip, you clenched the handle of the paperbag you were holding before running out with tears streaming down your face.

You ran as fast as you could, ignoring the worried looks you're getting from the people you were passing by. Even Kita was shocked to see you yet he didn't bother calling out, thinking that you might be needing some alone time for yourself.

You skipped class.

Throughout your whole Highschool life, this was the first time you skipped your class and it was a bummer that the reason was Atsumu Miya.

Stirring your strawberry milkshake from a nearby cafe, you thought about Atsumu's words, another batch of tears streaming down your face as you realized how pathetic you were for believing that he isn't what others say.

Maybe your cousin was wrong.

Atsumu Miya wasn't worth the chance he was given, because he only proved that once a f!ckboy, always a f!ckboy.

-

You blocked Atsumu's social media accounts.

In fact, you even blocked and deleted his number to stop getting in contact with him.

Even in person, you didn't bother paying him any attention unlike before. You stopped coming to their practices, stopped giving him food and stopped talking to him.

You basically acted as if he didn't exist.

It was hard because you knew that your heart belonged to him, but you had to endure it. You didn't want to give him the satisfaction for playing with you. You know your worth and there's no way you're going to let some f*ckboy ruin you.

"Y/n, would ya stop?!" Atsumu said as he grabbed your wrist, effectively stopping you from walking away from him any further.

"Get your hands off me, Miya. I don't wanna talk to you." You struggled against his hold, trying to take your hand back, only to fail when he tightened his grip.

"The hell's yer problem? What's with the sudden attitude? Yer basically ignorin' me and I don't have any idea what I did. Just tell me what I did wrong instead of actin' like a little brat." Letting go of your wrist, Atsumu groaned as he ran his fingers through his hair out of frustration. "I.. I don't like this."

You laughed, eyes squinting as you let out a fit of giggles before pointing at him. "You don't like this? Why not, Miya? I'm just a toy for you, right? So, I don't really get why you don't like this. Is it because you're not bored of me yet so you're not willing to dispose of me?" Crossing your arms over your chest, you looked at him with a serious expression. "Well, I'm sorry to say this but I'm not going to let you hurt me like the others. I'm not a plaything nor am I desperate like those girls pining over you. Have fun looking for a new toy. You're not worth playing with anyway."

That being said, you turned your back on Atsumu, ignoring the whispers that suddenly filled the hallway as the students parted some space for you, leaving Atsumu with his lips parted and feet frozen on the ground.

Serves you right, Miya.

-

Atsumu felt hollow.

With every passing day that you're ignoring him, conversing with people whom you never bothered associating yourself with before, the more he regret taking advantage of your feelings.

It was only supposed to be a game, nothing but a pass time and yet why did it felt like something was missing?

"I wasn't supposed to care," Atsumu said desperately while clutching his head in his hands, elbows propped on the table as he opened up to his twin. "F!ck...I think I like her, 'Samu."

"No shit, idiot," Osamu answered without taking his eyes off the stove. "I told ya several times to stop messin' with people's feelings and did ya ever listen? No. That's what ya get for bein' stupid."

Groaning, Atsumu rested his cheek against the table, facing Osamu's back. "Help me."

Slowing down from stirring the pot, Osamu looked at Atsumu through his shoulder. "Why would I do that?"

"Well, I'm yer twin. Aren't ya supposed to help me? Plus... y/n acts fine around ya." Atsumu sighed before sitting up properly. "I won't bother ya fer a week if ya help me out. I already did everythin' I could. Flowers, chocolates, even payin' attention in class just to impress them! Nothin' worked."

Osamu chuckled at the desperation and frustration in Atsumu's voice. "Deal." He turned the stove off, covering the pot before making his way to Atsumu. Sitting down, he crossed his arms over his chest while staring at the brokenhearted Miya. "Y/n is actually kind. Well, not until that moment she found out about yer stupidity. Have ya tried showin' her that yer willin' to change?"

Atsumu nodded. "I did. I even gave her the usual things girls like."

"I asked if ya showed her that yer willin' to change, not tried winnin' over her through bribery." When Atsumu didn't respond, Osamu let out a 'tsk' before continuing, "Just stop botherin' her and prove that ya regret what ya did."

"Easier said than done," Atsumu grumbled which earned him a smack on the head.

"Will ya stop bein' a sad boy already? I have a plan."

-

Its been two weeks.

Two weeks of no Miya Atsumu trying to apologize. Two weeks of no Miya Atsumu following you like a lost puppy while holding either chocolates or flowers.

Instead, what you were getting were these random post it notes on your locker, your desk, everywhere. Wherever you go, there would be random post it notes with various messages. Some contained cheesy quotations, the others short apology letters.

And despite how mad you were at Atsumu, you wouldn't be able to deny how cute the act was. Not only did he gave you space but also exerted an effort of silently letting you know that he'd be willing to wait for you.

You noticed how he stopped acting like a boss in class, opting to jot down notes instead of chattering with Osamu like usual. You also noticed how he stopped having a random girl beside him during breaks. Everytime you would pass by, no longer would he try to block your way and flick your forehead, but instead give you a hopeful smile before proceeding on his way wordlessly.

But what made you realize that he indeed regret what he did was that one time.

You were walking back to your classroom after forgetting your umbrella. The sound of the heavy rain tapping on the ground resonated on the empty hallways, the cold wind making you shiver as it whooshed in the air.

Wrapping your arms tightly around you, you entered your classroom, eyes widening as you saw Atsumu trying to fit something on the space below your desk while mumbling something.

Clearing your throat, you noticed Atsumu jolting up slightly before turning around to face your direction.

He smiled sheepily before scratching his nape. "I know it's yer birthday tomorrow so I was tryin' to fit this here. I guess there's no point hidin' it already since ya caught me anyway." Sighing, Atsumu picked up the fox stuffie and handed it to you. "Happy Birthday, y/n. I know yer still mad at me and ya probably hate me but I still wanted to give ya a present."

You stared at the fox in your hand, your fingers poking the fluffiness of the material as you fought back the urge to smile. "Thanks," you answered with a dismissive tone.

For a split second, it was silent, and you were aware of the intensity of Atsumu's gaze burning on your forehead, yet you refused to look up, knowing that once you did, you won't be able to hold yourself back and might just forgive him there and then.

"I like ya, I really do. I know I messed up big time fer taking advantage of ya and I'm sorry fer that. It was stupid and childish of me to think that the people around me are nothing but mere toys fer me to play with. I regret hurtin' yer feelings and I'll be willin' to wait until ya forgive me. Just know that I won't stop until ya do."

Hearing something rustling, you looked up and noticed Atsumu taking off his jacket. Within a few steps, he was already infront of you, draping his jacket over your figure. "I'll see ya around, princess. Don't get sick, alright?" Smiling, Atsumu gave your cheek a small pinch before heading out.

You were left in the empty classroom with nothing but the fox stuffie serving as your company. Atsumu's scent was swirling around you from the jacket you were given and at that moment, you haven't notice the single tear sliding down your cheek.

Because of all people, you never expected for Atsumu Miya to be the first one to greet you without having to remind them.

He was the first person you knew outside of your household to ever remember your birthday.

You hugged the stuffie close to your chest, burrying your face on top of its head as you let the comfort it brings envelope you.

-

You stared at the empty space infront, your head swirling as you thought of the possible reasons why Atsumu haven't been in class for three days now.

It's currently your last subject and throughout the whole day, you've been doing nothing but wonder where he was. You haven't asked Osamu about it yet since he was excused from the class due to the preparations for the upcoming match.

And so, the moment your class was dismissed, you rushed your way out, making your trip to the gym. You were thankful that they were in the middle of a water break so you had the chance to call out Osamu's name without having to worry about Kita.

"Y/n?" Osamu's eyebrow shot up upon seeing you. Suddenly, a knowing smile made its way to his lips. Standing up, he walked over to you. "He's sick," he said without even waiting for you to say something.

"Oh.." you muttered, shifting from one foot to another nervously before tugging at the hem of Osamu's jersey. "Do you... uhm, do you think it would be alright if I visit him after your practice? I wanna see if he's doin' alright."

"Alright. I think 'Tsumu would appreciate that. Why don't ya sit on the bench and wait a little for us to finish practice then ya can visit our house after?"

Upon hearing that, your face instantly lit up. You smiled at Osamu as you nodded.

Osamu only chuckled at you and fondly ruffled your hair, a habit he and Atsumu shared.

You waited patiently, and it wasn't long then when their practice finally finished. After Osamu took a shower, you both went on your way to their residence.

As you entered their house, Atsumu's voice immediately met your ears.

"'Samu! Cook me somethin', I'm starvin!"

You looked at Osamu who only shrugged as if he was already used to it. You took your shoes off and wore the slippers you were given before placing your bag on the couch.

"Our room is on the right. Go ahead and talk to him." Osamu said as he pointed on the door at the end of the hallway.

With a nod, you slowly made your way to their room, knocking softly before sliding your way in.

The first thing that greeted you were the mess of opened junk foods on the floor. Roaming your eyes around, you grimaced at the sight of empty water bottles littered around along with the volleyball laying on the ground.

Averting your eyes away from the trash, you looked at Atsumu whose back was facing you, his shoulder raising up and down evenly, indicating that he must be asleep.

Carefully, you walked claser and sat on the edge of his bed, your hand immediately feeling his forehead. "You're burning up," you mumbled, brushing his hair away from his face.

Suddenly, Atsumu's hand gripped your wrist, his eyebrows furrowed as he squinted his eyes. "Am I dreamin' or are ya a ghost?" he asked with a raspy voice.

"I'm not a ghost, 'Tsumu. I'm really here."

You watched as Atsumu slowly nodded before letting go of your wrist. "What're ya doin' here? I thought ya were still mad at me." Sitting up, Atsumu held the comforter close to him as he shivered.

"I heard you were sick. I'm no longer mad at you. I guess I'm still upset but I just can't hold a grudge against you forever, can I? That's not something I can do," you said with a shake of your head. "I really like you, you know? Despite your title of being a f!ckboy, I still fell for you. You were the first person I tried opening up to aside from my cousin. It's just a bummer that you ended up taking advantage of that vulnerability."

You felt Atsumu reaching out for you, his hand enveloping yours as he gave it a small squeeze. "I know, and I'm sorry. I really am."

"And if I give you another chance, will you prove me that you deserve it?" you asked as you looked at him, "I'm still hurt about what happened so I hope that if I give you this chance, you won't waste it."

"Yes. God, yes," Atsumu answered breathlessly, "I promise it won't happen again and I'll try to be better."

Suddenly, Atsumu wrapped his arms around your figure, pulling you on his lap as he settled his head on the side of your neck. "Thank you," he mumbled repeatedly against your skin, his arms tightening around you as if he was afraid of letting go.

And he never did.

Indeed, there was something about Miya Atsumu that kept drawing you in, and despite the bumps and dangers that came along your way, you didn't withraw.

Because as you closed the last page of your photo album eight years from then, you realized how right your cousin was alll along.

Atsumu Miya was worth the chance he was given, and he proved it to you every single day, sealing it with the diamond ring now resting on your left hand.

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated ♥️

[gukyi]

good luck charm | kth

summary: kim taehyung has nearly everything he’s ever dreamed of: an apartment in new york city, a lead role in an off-broadway play, and a best friend to share it with. but even still, there’s one thing missing—love. and when he goes on the hunt for it, he dots every i and crosses every t, leaves no stone unturned, but forgets to look at the person who could ever love him the most: you.

{friends to lovers!au, roommates!au, actor!au}

pairing: kim taehyung x female reader genre: fluff, angst, unrequited love word count: 11k a/n: a huge thank you to MK for commissioning me for this piece–i hope it’s everything you dreamed of!!!! these are tough times, but i hope this can serve as a distraction to everyone!! please stay safe and wash your hands! if you’re interested in commissioning me, check out this post! also, if the pictures are unclear, click on them for higher resolution!

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite customer.”

You see a tuft of purple hair sticking out behind a basket of orange pansies, two nimble hands with long fingers fiddling with the stems. 

“I bet you say that to everyone,” you tease, as Namjoon peers out from where he’s hiding behind a shelf of flowers, greeting you with the same warm grin he always wears. 

Namjoon pauses, gaze tilting upwards as he corrects himself, “my favorite customer who’s about to confess to her best friend of four years with a bouquet arranged by yours truly?”

You roll your eyes, thankful that there’s nobody else inside this little flower shop. Not that you seem to have an issue exposing your entire life story to certain strangers, especially if they’ve got dimples and colored hair to match. Namjoon has always been something of an exception—perhaps he is one of the closest friends you have here in the city, where everything moves so quickly you barely have time to say hello to a new acquaintance. Namjoon and his flower shop are a respite, a safe haven in a bustling world, where time always seems to move slower than it does outside. 

“Don’t remind me, I’m sweating just thinking about it,” you tell him, trying to cover your nervousness with a laugh. 

“Ah, well how could I forget, when you came to me to arrange the perfect bouquet for tonight?” Namjoon says. He chops a wilting flower from its stem and places it behind his ear. Even though it’s a little sadder, a little less lively than its comrades, the bright yellow of the primrose complements his hair nicely, making him look even more ethereal, magical, than he already does. 

“Who else would I ask besides the best bouquet-maker in town?” You ask as Namjoon leads you to the counter, where various bouquets have been laid out in vases, ready for pick-up. It’s a secret garden here, all green and fresh and calm, a sharp contrast to the industrial machine outside. 

Namjoon heads to the back, a room behind a little wooden door that’s the slightest bit too short for him, so he has to bend down to avoid hitting his head (he still hits his head rather frequently, though), as you breathe in the scents of the flowers surrounding you, the roses and the daisies and everything in between. It’s not much, but it does calm the thick beating of your heart ever so slightly, and that’s enough. 

He emerges a minute or so later, banging his head on the way out. In his hands is one of the biggest bouquets you’ve ever laid eyes on, thick with some flowers you recognize but more you don’t. It’s breathtaking and gorgeous and impressive, all at once. 

“Namjoon, you know that I didn’t ask for this many flowers,” you chide as he plops the bouquet down onto the counter, clicking away at the ancient cash register to his left. 

“Consider it a good luck gift,” Namjoon tells you with a wink. 

You sigh, pulling out your card to pay him. “I could use all of the luck I could get.” The likelihood of tonight going more right than wrong is miniscule. But what else can you do, besides try? “What do they all mean?”

“Well, the daffodils represent honesty and truth. The red carnations mean love, obviously. So do the chrysanthemums. The baby’s breath is just for decoration, but it also means everlasting love. The gardenias are for secret love. And the freesia is just because I thought it went well with the bouquet,” Namjoon says expertly, pointing to each one as he tells you what it means. “I don’t know if Taehyung’s super up with his flower meanings, but I think that even the gesture will say more than enough. But if he is, this is just a bonus.”

“I feel like it’s going to go really badly, is that wrong?” You say, the nerves overtaking you. You were hoping to just act calm and collected, thank Namjoon for the bouquet and be on with your lives, but even you can’t help but seek advice from him. 

Namjoon lets out a laugh. “If you think it’s going to go so badly, why have you planned so much?” He poses. “It’s normal to be nervous about this sort of thing—what if I mess up, what if he doesn’t feel the same way, what if he rejects me—but I think that, deep down inside of you, there’s a part that thinks that it will all be worth it. And I don’t know, maybe I’m just a sucker for happy endings, but I think that that’s the most important. The part of you that doesn’t want to spend the rest of its life thinking about what might have been.” Namjoon’s phone lights up next to him, his lockscreen a picture of him and another boy, shorter, but with the same dyed hair. The two look so happy together. He gazes down at it, exhales, and shuts his phone off. “Just my two cents.”

“You’re wise beyond your years, Kim Namjoon,” you tell him with a smile. Maybe you are nervous about the what ifs, nervous that this whole thing could blow up in your face, but is it so naive of you to listen to that whisper in your heart? The one that says, maybe he feels the same? “I wish you’d take your own advice, sometimes.”

“It’s different,” Namjoon murmurs to himself. “He and I… this is all we’ll ever be.”

“You don’t know unless you try,” you tell him. You know the feeling. Perhaps, if tonight goes well, it will encourage him to give it a shot himself. “You never know.” Namjoon looks up at you, smile wide but eyes sad. There’s clearly something more that he isn’t mentioning, but you won’t push it. You get it. How could you not? “What if he does feel the same?”

The bell above the door rings on your way out, fingers clenching onto a bouquet, praying and wishing and dreaming that maybe this will all be worth it, in the end.

Something is up with Kim Taehyung. 

When you return to your apartment, Kim Taehyung is slouched on your dinky loveseat, arm deep inside a six-month-old box of Frosted Flakes, as an episode of Jeopardy! plays on his laptop, his eyes empty and glazed over as he stares at Alex Trebek, wordless.

You nearly jump in shock, terrified that he’ll spot you and the enormous bouquet in your hands, terrified that he’ll ask you about it, terrified that your entire plan for tonight will get flushed down the toilet the moment you and him lock eyes. But it doesn’t, because Kim Taehyung doesn’t even acknowledge you when you walk in, for better or for worse, and you manage to stash the bouquet into a vase in your bedroom before rounding on your roommate, because something is up with Kim Taehyung. 

Kim Taehyung hates Frosted Flakes. The only reason they’re in your apartment to begin with is because Jungkook had brought them over one time when he was visiting, and even then they were stale. Now they’re extra stale. So stale that they make a hollow sound on your countertop when you tap them against the laminate. 

Kim Taehyung normally shuffles through Jeopardy! like it’s nobody’s business. He gets at least a quarter, if not half of the questions correct, and always earns more points than you. But he doesn’t even open his mouth when Alex Trebek says, “This Renaissance artist left Florence to serve as principal engineer for the Duke of Milan’s army” and you know that he knows it’s Leonardo Da Vinci. 

Kim Taehyung normally has plenty to say, especially to Sawyer the Suspicious Floor Dip, who currently resides in your living room. Sawyer the Suspicious Floor Dip has been your honorary second roommate ever since the two of you moved into this apartment four months ago. Taehyung made him a little museum placard that is framed and hanging on the wall above him, and he has an account on every social media website under the sun. Sawyer the Suspicious Floor Dip has more followers on Instagram than you do. But today, both he and Sawyer are silent and unmoving. 

“Tae?” You ask, treading over to the couch as he empties the box of Frosted Flakes into his stomach, finishing up the episode. “Is everything alright?”

“Mmrph,” he mumbles in response. You suppose that means he said fine, which means that no, everything is not alright. 

“What’s going on? You’re normally really excited the day of your shows,” you ask. At least he hasn’t entirely turned into a soulless hermit, and he moves his legs off of the couch so you can sit beside him. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” Taehyung says, louder. “I don’t know. I feel like it’s going to go really badly, is that wrong?”

You smile softly, shaking your head as you reach a hand out, letting it rest in his lap before he takes your hand in his. “No, it’s not. Tonight’s a big deal, isn’t it? You must be under a lot of pressure to do well.”

“I’m just so worried that I’ll fuck it up and everyone will hate me forever,” Taehyung says, exasperated. It’s almost as if he’s tired with himself for being so negative. 

“You’re not gonna fuck it up and nobody is going to hate you. I’ll always love you, you know that,” you assure him. 

“Yeah, I know,” Taehyung says, but the worst part is that you’re not sure if he really does. 

“It’s okay to be nervous, and to worry. Tonight is really important. But you’re an incredible actor, and you’ve always been so good at what you do,” you tell him, thumb rubbing against the back of his hand softly. “I can’t tell you how proud I am of you.”

Taehyung lets his head rest on your own and the two of you sit together on the couch in silence, watching as the minutes on his laptop clock tick by. You can hear his heartbeat, steady and soft, firm underneath his chest. You wonder if he can hear yours. Hear how it’s picking up speed, hear how it beats only for him. 

“You always know what to say,” Taehyung tells you. “I wish I knew how to do that.”

You grin sadly to yourself, happy that the two of you are side by side so he doesn’t have to see your face. How could Taehyung tell you something like that? How could he, when every time you’re near him, you’re speechless?

You never really considered yourself to be a theater person when you were younger. You would fall asleep when you went to see plays with your parents or on a school field trip. You never made an effort to go see the performances that your school put on. You were one-hundred percent confident that you would go through all four years of university without seeing one of the fifteen different theater groups’ shows, not because you hated them, but because they never crossed your mind in the first place. 

And then, you met Kim Taehyung. 

You met Kim Taehyung halfway through your freshman year because the two of you were in the same Cinematography in the 1900’s class. And then, suddenly, you were eating the same shitty food in the dining hall after class ended at seven in the evening. And then, suddenly, you were studying together, spending nights watching Jeopardy! on his laptop when you didn’t feel like doing any work. And then, suddenly, Kim Taehyung mentioned in passing one day that he had a show that Friday, and would you like to come, it would really mean a lot to him, he thinks you’ll really like it. 

And then, suddenly, you were a theater person. 

That night was the first night Kim Taehyung had ever taken your breath away. And every performance, every night, every fucking moment after that, he never stopped.

Tonight is no exception. You can’t say that you’re super well-versed in theater fame and its technicalities, but you think that this may just be Taehyung’s best performance yet. Here, in this theater off of Sixth Avenue, to a crowd of two, perhaps three hundred people, Taehyung is nothing short of amazing. He never is. From the moment he steps on stage in a raggedy old flannel and jeans, eyes wide with dreams, he reels you in and makes sure that you won’t leave this theater, won’t leave here unscathed. But the fatal blow is halfway through, when he finally spots you in the third row, sees you staring up at him in wonder, and he smiles. 

There is so much that you wish you could tell him. 

After the show, you race back to your apartment, desperate to finish up the last of the preparations before he arrives, after taking off all of his makeup and his costumes, saying goodbye to all of his co-stars. Normally, you’d hang around, let him introduce you, but tonight is different. Special. 

[September 8th, 9:35PM]

You: Had to go home bc I’m planning a special something for the star of the night! Sorry I missed all of the fun afterwards You: Something very important to tell you

Taehyung: ohoho Taehyung: I wonder who that could be Taehyung: Coming soon. I have something to tell you too! ^^

You stare at the text as you grab the vase of flowers from your room, setting it up at your very unimpressive kitchen table. What could Taehyung possibly have to tell you? Other than perhaps a thanks for showing up (as if you weren’t going to). 

What if, that voice whispers. The part deep in your heart, the one that you wish would shut up sometimes. 

“No,” you say aloud, perhaps more for yourself than anyone else. “No. I have something to tell him. I have to tell him this.”

You never know, she says. He might. What are you waiting for?

You pull out all of the scented candles in the apartment, setting them up on the coffee table and on the windowsills. There’s a plate of macarons that you had purchased from the fancy bakery in Midtown sitting by the vase, a little treat for the two of you since your diets usually consist of premade Costco pasta and takeout. 

There is so much you want to tell him. So much to say, and no way to do it. It seems impossible. As the minutes tick by, as he gets closer and closer, you wonder if you even have the courage to open your mouth. It’s not as if this is life-changing news. It would be so easy, so easy to just pretend that this is nothing but a celebration of Taehyung’s very first major off-Broadway show, to push down the ache in your heart and tell that voice to stay quiet, if only for a little longer. You’ve lived like this for so long already. Who’s to say you can’t live like this forever?

Taehyung comes home as you’re flicking through late-night television show reruns and fiddling with a Rubix cube, anything to keep your mind occupied and your fingers busy. You hear as he fumbles with the lock—his key has always been a little bit off—and scramble to get everything ready, shutting your laptop and putting the Rubix cube on your designated Weird Stuff Shelf. The apartment smells like a hodgepodge of vanilla, flowers, cinnamon, and champagne, and the flowers are already starting to wilt slightly. But it’s now or never, really. 

Taehyung swings the door open with a grin and gasps in excitement when he sees you, standing in the hazy, flickering yellow light of the kitchen, surrounded by candles, with a plate of macarons and a vase of flowers on the table. 

“Oh my God!” He says, overjoyed, high off of the adrenaline from a successful show, eyes still sparking from the spotlight. “Y/N! What is all of this?”

“Just a little something from me to you,” you say awkwardly. You have no idea how to tell him. You’re not sure if you even will. “To celebrate.”

“Dare I say, this apartment has never looked better,” he tells you, beaming. He walks over to where you’re hovering by the kitchen table, knee deep in it all, admiring the sight before him. He leans over you, ever so slightly, as he takes in the scent of the flowers, the macarons sitting before him. And then he turns to you, the glow from the candles making his eyes warm and caramel-y, almost as if they’re shimmering in the light, and he says, “You did all of this for me?”

“Of course,” you tell him, because you would do this again and again if it means you could see him like this. If you could watch him burst through the front door for the rest of your goddamn life, watch as he comes home to you. “Tonight’s special.”

“It wouldn’t be without you,” he tells you honestly, candidly. He tells you that because he means it. You wish you could say the same things to him. “You’re my best friend, Y/N.”

It’s now or never. If he takes one step closer, turns to look at you one more time, you don’t know if you’ll still have the courage. You don’t know if you even have it right now, but tomorrow, when you wake up, you don’t want to regret this night. You don’t want to wonder what if, what might have been. You’ve been friends for so long. Who’s to say you can’t be more than that?

“I have something to tell you,” you breathe out, words heavy on your tongue. You can feel your heart seize up, almost like it’s holding its breath with you. 

“Right, you said that,” Taehyung says with a nod, stuffing a cherry macaron into his mouth. “I have something to tell you, too.”

“Do you want to go first?” You ask him. You just need a little more time. You just want to hear his voice once more. 

“Okay,” Taehyung says happily. “I got a girlfriend!” 

Oh. 

Oh. 

Well. 

Okay. 

“Really?” You ask, trying to make it sound more like a Really? That’s great! and not a Really? I thought that we had something special. You don’t think that you’re doing a very good job.

“Yeah!” Taehyung says. He’s ecstatic. It tears your heart in two. “I mean, I know I’m just… a super, hopeless romantic and I fall in love with people when they hold the door open for me, but I’m really happy with her. It’s Ariel, actually, she played Lucy! Isn’t it funny how even though our characters never even officially met, we still found something there?”

“Yeah,” you say, emotionless. Taehyung is far too excited, far too joyous to notice. 

“I just—I wanted to tell you, because you’re my best friend and you deserve to know,” he says, breaking off half of the raspberry macaron and holding it out to you. “What did you want to tell me? Did you say it was important?”

“Oh, uh…” you fumble, shaking your head at the macaron. Your stomach has never felt smaller. It’s like there’s nothing left to say to him. “I think I’m getting transferred to another office.” It’s not news. Your job told you that last week. But it’s something, and it’s better than being honest. Anything is, at this point. “They might pay a little more.”

“Yay!” Taehyung says. “That’s great! Now, maybe we can fix up the lights in the kitchen. So they don’t read horror movie every time I try to make pasta at 2AM. I’m happy for you, you deserve it!”

You smile, putting on a brave face, just for him. “Me too.” You can’t muster up the strength to say anything else. 

Taehyung spends the rest of the night gobbling down the macarons and telling you all about Ariel, as you try desperately to tune him out. Even the sound of your own thoughts would be better than this. Anything. Anything. Eventually, after it’s long past midnight and Taehyung realizes he’ll need his sleep for the show tomorrow night, he bids you goodbye and sets off to his room, a bounce in his step.

You stand in the middle of your apartment. Even though it’s small, and even though you have him, it’s never felt emptier.

Namjoon always says that flowers don’t just need food and water to stay happy. They need love, they need to be surrounded by happiness. He says that they can feel it, that they react to it. That’s why he always tries to be happy when he’s working. Because he hates seeing the flowers so sad. He says they remind him of himself.

It’s no wonder why the flowers in the vase look even more wilted than before.

Here’s the thing: You had pretty much always known that it was going to hurt like this. There had always been that part of you, deep down inside, that knew that there was no way it wasn’t going to hurt like this. That knew that there was nothing you could do to stop it from hurting like this. 

And still, foolishly so, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, telling him would make it stop. You gave into this fantasy that, even if he didn’t feel the same, even if he let you down easy, even if he told you that he just wanted to be friends, it would be better. 

That’s the worst part of it all, really. The fact that you never even told him. Couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Didn’t. You never told him, and now, somehow, everything is even worse than before. 

The flowers have long been thrown out by now, tossed out after hardly a week, unable to stand the tension in the air, the emptiness that lingered far beyond that night. Still, you remembered to keep one, plucking it from the vase before it died of secondary sadness. Because even if they hurt you, even if they tear at your heartstrings one by one, you’ve always had this terrible habit of never letting go of what you love. You pressed the flower with an old college textbook, placed it into a thin little vase, meant for one flower only. A red carnation, to remind you of what you could have had. What might have been. 

Kim Taehyung is significantly less worried this time around as he prepares for the opening night of his latest play. He wakes up early and does some yoga in the living room, pushing all of the furniture to the walls so he has enough space to Downward Dog in peace. He watches a couple episodes of Jeopardy! as he eats the Pad Thai he Doordashed to your apartment, and gets half of the questions correct. Even from your bedroom, you can hear him talking to Sawyer. 

“I’m excited for tonight, Sawyer,” he says to him. “I don’t know, last time I did Shakespeare was sophomore year in college, I think? I was Mercutio. It was fun and I got to use a sword. Y/N came to that show, too. I annoyed her so much that night that she told me that she was glad Tybalt killed me, but we had a good time anyway.”

Sawyer doesn’t say anything back, because he is a Suspicious Floor Dip in your living room. But it’s so lovely to hear Taehyung’s voice again. 

“Do you think that Y/N’s been acting weird, lately?” Taehyung asks. “I just feel like—I feel like she and I aren’t as close these days. She works in her room a lot more and some days I don’t see her at all. Which is crazy, because we live together. My ex always said it was a little weird how I lived with my best friend who is also a girl. But I don’t think it is. Do you think I did something wrong?”

No, you wish you could say, leaning against your thin bedroom door as you hear Taehyung wonder aloud. Never, in a million years. It was me, you want to tell him. I got my hopes up and now I’m paying the price. It’s not you. It’s never you. 

“Yeah, I guess she’s just busier these days,” Taehyung says with a sigh. “She did get transferred to that new office a couple of months ago. But she’s still my best friend. I’ll never stop telling her that—she deserves to know that no matter what, she always has me.”

“Sawyer the Suspicious Floor Therapist, huh?” You interrupt, finally getting the nerve to open your door. Taehyung’s on his way out, all dressed, backpack on his shoulder. He has to be at the theater a few hours before the show begins, anyway. 

“He’s just so easy to talk to,” Taehyung jokes. “Did you… uh… did you hear that?”

“The part about being your best friend?” You ask with an eyebrow raise, making Taehyung smile. You don’t mention the other things you heard. You don’t think that would make things better. 

(You’re not sure what will, at this point. Telling him is off the table. You distantly wonder if it was ever on the table to begin with.)

“Just making sure you knew,” Taehyung says with a grin. “Don’t want you forgetting about that.”

“How could I?” You muse, and it makes him smile something fierce and makes you wish that things were different. 

“You’re coming tonight, right?” Taehyung says. He must know the answer, already. 

“Of course I am,” you tell him. “Who do you take me for?”

“I’ll look for you in the crowd, okay?” Taehyung says, a hand on the doorknob as he gets ready to leave. “Keep an eye out for me. Promise?”

It’s always been so hard to say no to him. 

“Promise,” you tell him. 

That night, you sit a little further back, shadowed by the mezzanine above you, but Taehyung finds you anyway. As he schmoozes his way through the storyline on stage, he sends a wink your way, a couple of the girls in the row in front of you giggling to each other when he does. You sort of wish he was really winking at them. That way, it would hurt a little less. 

Afterwards, you linger around in the lobby, waiting for him like you always have, like you always do, like you always will. You don’t have anything special waiting for him back at your apartment. There’s nothing left to tell him. 

You spot his head of soft, wavy brown hair far before he spots you, can make it out in a sea of cast members as they cheer for themselves, celebrating another successful opening show. Your face lights up when you see him, when you see that he sees you. This is how it has always been. This is how it should be—you find each other in the crowd, grinning as you congratulate him, as he introduces you to his cast members and then invites you to the afterparty. You spend the night together, high off of the adrenaline and just a little tipsy, before stumbling back to your apartment, basking in the afterglow. 

You want nothing more than for things to go back to the way they were. 

And then, you see her. 

“Y/N!” Taehyung shouts excitedly, and it takes all of your strength to not let your face fall as she comes into view, hand interlaced with Taehyung’s. “I knew you’d be here!”

“How could I not be?” You say, letting Taehyung wrap you in a one-armed hug rather than two. “You know me.”

“This is my girlfriend,” Taehyung introduces proudly, motioning to the pretty girl beside him as she waves at you good-naturedly. “Madison, this is my roommate and college best friend, Y/N.”

“Taehyung talks about you non-stop,” Madison says with a smile. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“All good things, I hope,” you say, because what else are you supposed to say to the love of your life’s new girlfriend? How else can you salvage this conversation when you already see it going terribly? “You both were really good tonight. I’m happy that I came.”

“Me too!” Taehyung grins. “Did you see me wink at you? I promised you I would.”

You nod, eyes desperately scanning the rest of the room, the rest of the people, the floor, anything to keep from watching as Madison drapes herself over Taehyung, intertwines their hands as she leans against him, like she can’t get enough of him. 

“Hey, do you want to come to the afterparty? It’s at Alex’s house, apparently he has this brownstone in Brooklyn all to himself, I’ve heard it’s gorgeous—”

“No, actually, I have a lot of work that I need to catch up on,” you interrupt. You don’t think you’d last five minutes there, where the only person you know is Taehyung, where he’s got a girlfriend on his arm the entire time. You aren’t even sure how you’re faring now, if you’re even  breathing, standing before him and his equally-gorgeous new partner. 

You just wish everything could go back to normal.

Taehyung’s brows furrow, disappointed. “Oh, you do? But—”

“Yeah, I’m just—I’m really sorry, Tae, you know I want to. But I should get going. It was really nice meeting you, Madison, I hope we can see each other again sometime—” You spew out a few more goodbyes and even more apologies as you rush towards the exit, turning away so you don’t have to see Taehyung calling after you. 

On the way back, you bump into Namjoon, who’s closing up shop for the day. He looks positively exhausted, always working diligently from morning to far past sunset every day, but he smiles when he sees you, setting aside his tired eyes to say hello. 

“Hey, Y/N, fancy seeing you here,” he greets. “How are you? How’d it go?” He gives you a sort of grin that means that he thinks it went super well. 

“Not great,” you tell him truthfully, because it’s late and you don’t feel like hiding things anymore. 

“Oh,” Namjoon says. He opens his mouth to say something else, but you can see the hesitation in his eyes, the way he thinks that none of the things he has to say will go down very well. You know the feeling. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s alright,” you assure him, even though it’s not. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Isn’t it, though?” Namjoon asks solemnly. 

You frown. “Do you really think we should both be having this conversation?” Namjoon has his own secrets, his dreams of a short boy with colored hair by his side. “You aren’t much better.”

“No, I’m not,” he muses to himself. “But it is a big deal, Y/N. Please don’t act like it isn’t. You love him, don’t you? Even if he doesn’t love you back.”

You love him. 

It’s not a secret anymore. 

You love him like the stars love the moon, surrounding her in their light, making sure she never gets lonely. You love him like an old Hollywood movie, film faded and worn, getting played once in a while to make sure you never forget where you started. You love him like a flower, carnations, daffodils, chrysanthemums, perking up when you’re around him and wilting when you’re not. 

“It doesn’t matter,” you say with a sigh. Certainly, there are more important things to dwell on. You’re looking for a new job because being an office temp isn’t exactly what you were envisioning for your life. You want to start fixing up the bathroom, because the grout by the shower is starting to disintegrate. Sawyer the Suspicious Floor Dip is a fire hazard. “I’m okay with just being friends.”

Namjoon smiles, and it’s so sad, but not with pity. It’s sad with I know, and sad with feeling, because he gets it, and that must be why you’re here, standing on the sidewalk at ten on a Friday night, underneath the street lamps as the city begins to open its eyes. “But when you have him the way you do, how can you be okay with any of it?”

Taehyung comes home late that night, and you only know because you’re running to the bathroom at the same time he fumbles with the door. He takes longer than usual, which means he’s drunk, and you can only hope and pray that he’s alone. You watch as he finally manages to unlock the door, stumbling inside, managing to turn on the main overhead lights in your apartment as he does. From where you’re peering at him from the darkness of the hallway, you can make out dark red, purple spots all along his skin. 

You pull the bathroom door almost shut, leaving it a little ajar so you can gaze out at him, watch as he pours himself a glass of water and downs the entire thing before he makes his way to the hallway, heading for his bedroom. From here, you see the way his hair is mussed, all fucked up from someone’s hands in it, see the marks up close, the way they line his neck, his jaw, his collarbones. He finds his way to his bedroom and shuts the door behind him as you stand, trapped in the bathroom, mad at him for not knowing but furious at yourself for being so ridiculous.

Love was never supposed to hurt like this. 

The next time that you attend one of Taehyung’s opening nights, you don’t stick around long afterwards. 

You were planning on it, of course, like you always do, because ever since college you’ve made a point to see him after a show, tell him all of the things you wish you could say to him all of the time, you were amazing, you were brilliant, you were perfect in every way. You even have a small bouquet of flowers in your hands, arranged by none other than Namjoon—a pity bouquet, an I hope that you two can still be friends bouquet—ready to give to him, ready to see them sitting on your kitchen table as a reminder. 

And then, you see the way he kisses her, overcome with joy, running on that post-show high. You see the way he pulls her into him and plants one on her, arms wrapped around each other as they celebrate, in their own special way. 

Suddenly, the flowers feel like dead weight in your hands. 

You manage to catch one of the few co-stars of Taehyung’s that you recognize, one who was in Our Lives with him. His name is Seokjin, and he’s gorgeous. Broadway material. Emmy, Grammy, Oscar, Tony material. He stops to say hello to you, and you ask if he could give the bouquet to Taehyung, tell him it was from you. 

Seokjin’s nice. He doesn’t ask why, he just nods. It saves you the trouble of telling him. Nobody wants to listen to your sob story. He says goodbye to you, and that he hopes to see you again soon. You hope so too. 

You spend the night curled up in your room pretending that everything is fine. You don’t see Taehyung when he comes home, and you don’t see him the next day, either. 

It’s not as if you’ve started to avoid Taehyung entirely. You live together—it would be downright impressive if you didn’t see each other for a whole day. It’s just, sometimes he still—

“Y/N? Wanna order Pad Thai?”

“Hey, Y/N, they’re playing The Devil Wears Prada on Freeform, do you want to come watch with me?”

“Central Park is having a Dog Festival, do you wanna go together?”

And sometimes, you just can’t. The thought of spending time with him makes your heart ache, whether it be from not wanting to be too close, or from missing him terribly. Either way, you don’t know if you’ll ever be able to muster up the same courage you once had. 

Turning to look at the pressed carnation in the vase atop your dresser, you laugh to yourself. It’s hard to believe that just a few months ago you thought that you would finally be able to tell him, to open up your heart and let him look into it like a kaleidoscope. Hard to believe that there was once a time when you thought that maybe, just maybe, he loved you back. It feels like it was eons ago. Like it was another universe entirely. 

You know that it’s not right for you to do this to Taehyung. He’s still your best friend. He always will be. He has no idea. He’ll never know. 

But sometimes—

Sometimes he comes home love drunk, wasted on kisses, splotches of pink lip gloss decorating his skin. 

Sometimes he spends dinner telling you all about the date he went on, the amazing vodka shrimp linguine he had, as the two of you eat Kirkland spaghetti in your dinky apartment. 

Sometimes he tells you that you’re his best friend, and that he misses you. 

Being in love with Taehyung had always been easy. It was being best friends, and making sure to keep the feelings a secret, that was hard. 

Taehyung isn’t home tonight. You hadn’t asked him where he’d be. You didn’t think that it mattered. 

And you tell yourself, over and over again, that it doesn’t matter. That you don’t need to know where he is every second of every day. He’s got a life outside of what exists in your stuffy apartment, a whole world of people craning to see him. He has reviews written about him in  The New York Times and people lining up outside the theater for his autograph on their Playbill. There’s so much more to his life than what he has with you. 

It’s better this way, you tell yourself, even if it’s not. Even if every time you step into your apartment, glance over at the vase on the kitchen table, you are reminded that it’s worse. Every time you see a damn carnation, daffodil, chrysanthemum, you can’t help but wish that things were different. You’re even starting to avoid Namjoon. 

That night finds you at a small Italian restaurant in a tiny alley off of Ninth Street. You’ve never been, but it had good reviews on Yelp and you could do with spending some time alone, wallowing in your feelings somewhere other than your bedroom. You’re starting to feel suffocated just being there. It would be good for you to get out. 

It would be good for you to get out, because the apartment reeks of what ifs, of what could have beens, and you can’t spend more than five minutes inside without throwing yourself your own personal pity party. You hardly see Taehyung nowadays because you can’t bear looking into his eyes anymore. Everything is awful, and you wish that it wasn’t, but you don’t know what to do to fix it. 

But Fate seems to love doing that thing where it’s out to get you. From the moment you met Kim Taehyung, Fate decided that you would be her next target. That no moment with him would leave you unscathed. And tonight is no exception. 

It’s just your luck that, ten minutes after you’re seated, the bell above the door rings to signal another customer, and you look up to see Taehyung and his girlfriend strolling in, glowing under the warm yellow light. You’ve never been more thankful, in that moment, to be seated right beside the bathroom, just out of sight of the booth that the hostess leads them to. It’s terrible, and it’s terrible, and it’s terrible. You watch as they order two glasses of a fancy rosé and giggle as they cheers to their show, to their lives, and to themselves. They spend the evening in the light of a single exposed bulb above their head, laughing and smiling and talking. 

The craziest part is that once upon a time, that would have been you. You and Taehyung would have decided that the night was a restaurant day and not a stay-at-home-and-cook-meal day. You would have found a quaint little place on Yelp and gotten the cheapest food on the menu. Once upon a time, you looked like that. 

[April 17th, 7:34PM]

Taehyung: [image sent] Taehyung: MMMMM look at this yummy yummy fish that I had tonight!! Taehyung: We should go here sometime!! I think you’d like it hehe

You look down at your plate. The food in front of you tastes like ash. 

“Congrats,” you say when you hear Taehyung leaving his bedroom, feet padding against the hardwood floor as he makes his way to the kitchen. 

“Huh?” Taehyung asks, eyes wide. It’s almost as if he’s surprised to see you out here, sitting on the couch, answering emails. Like he can’t believe you’re in your own home. You can’t blame him. “What are you talking about?”

“The review on The New York Times,” you tell him distantly, switching over to the tab on your computer where you read it. There’s a picture at the top of Taehyung and his co-star, front and center, holding hands as they look off into the distance, staring into an unknown future. “It’s your first five star review, isn’t it? They even listed it as the Critic’s Pick.”

“Oh, I… uh,” he begins, “I haven’t seen it yet. Been too busy.”

Bitterly, you wonder why. Even when you two are further apart than you have ever been, even when he spends all day out of the apartment and you spend all day inside, even when you barely fucking see each other, you can’t help but click on the articles that mention him, scroll through every review that mentions his name. 

Things might be different now, but that doesn’t mean that you can’t be proud of him. Of what he does. Of who he is. 

“Well, they said great things,” you tell him, sparing him the trouble of looking. “You deserve it.”

“You’re coming tonight, right? You have to, if the play is getting such good reviews,” Taehyung asks, an olive branch. You’ve spent so much time doing everything you can to keep your relationship as distant as possible, hiding in your bedroom and eating dinner at odd hours. But this is the one thing that you both can still hold onto. Taehyung’s shows, his performances, and you, in the audience, always finding his eyes. If everything else is in shambles, at least you will always have this. “I think you’d like it.”

“It sounds very Matrix-y.”

“Well,” Taehyung says, shrugging. “It sort of is. But it’s also about love. You’d like that, right?”

You suppose you’d like it a little more in another timeline.

Taehyung continues, barely giving himself time to catch his breath. “Basically, these two kids are playing this life-simulation game where every move they make directly corresponds with the actions of the characters they’re playing as. Cue me and Lancaster. And we meet, and slowly fall in love, over a series of chance encounters. You know, a coffee shop, the bank, a restaurant.”

“Really?” You ask, brows furrowed. 

“Why?” Taehyung’s eyes widen in concern, smile downturned ever so slightly as he takes in your expression. 

“I don’t know—” you begin. There’s just something about the storyline that rubs you the wrong way. “Maybe I’m just being cynical. But is it really possible for two people to find love like that? Through chance? Luck?”

Perhaps, Namjoon would say. You can hear his voice echoing in your head now. After all, wasn’t it luck that brought the two of you together?

You shake his thoughts away. Namjoon’s got his own set of problems—he’s in no position to be the wise one in this scenario.

Taehyung shrugs, as if he’d never given that a thought to begin with. “I don’t know,” he says. “I think that love can blossom anywhere. Just so long as you nurture it, water it and give it lots of sunlight. I just—I think that if you look hard enough, you can find love anywhere.”

You turn to face him, blinking up at him as you stare at each other, sitting on this damn couch in the middle of your apartment. Taehyung waxes poetic in front of you, tells you that if you just fucking look for love, you’ll find it. But he doesn’t know—and he never will. You’ve been looking for love for the past four years, you’ve been searching in all of the nooks and crannies of your body, and the only place you’ve ever found it has been in the deep pit of your heart, dusty and quiet and forgotten. Even now, staring into his eyes, scanning every bit of his irises for even a sliver of it, a spark, you come up empty. 

How could he say something like that, when he lives with you? When he looks at you while you’re eating takeout or sitting and watching a movie together. Does he just not see it? Or worse—does he know, and just refuse to say anything?

Suddenly, your body turns cold. It’s hard to believe that someone as hopelessly romantic can’t see what’s right in front of him. 

“I wish that was how it worked,” you say sourly, the words leaving a bitter taste on your tongue. You snatch your laptop from the table and head into your room, leaving Taehyung alone on the couch, speechless.

He may be the one with flowers blooming in his heart, but you have been drowning for the past four years, and never have you felt further from the surface than right now. 

You don’t go to Taehyung’s opening show that night. 

Taehyung leaves to get ready at the theater at three in the afternoon, and you bid him goodbye before holing yourself up in your bedroom and keeping yourself busy. You start watching the newest season of Stranger Things and tidy up the knick knacks you have scattered all over the place. Anything to keep your mind occupied. 

Taehyung texts you during intermission.

[June 3rd, 8:55PM]

Taehyung: Hey are you here?

You don’t respond. 

By ten at night, you end up with the cleanest room you’ve had in years and half of the season left to watch. It’s not a great kind of busy. The red carnation atop your dresser stares into your soul and you nearly throw it out three different times. But it’s an okay kind of busy, because you don’t know if you could have beared to see Taehyung on stage tonight. See him dancing around with a beautiful girl on his arm, confessing his love for her and pulling her in for a kiss. 

Over the years, you have seen Taehyung kiss so many people. From the shy freshman boy cast next to him in a student-written play in college to the model-esque women on stage in an off-Broadway play with him. And it never used to hurt—not like this. You saw him lock lips with another and you supposed that that was just show business. 

But it’s not show business anymore. It stopped being show business that night, when he came home to an apartment lit up with candles, the sweet scent of macarons wafting through the air, and told you he had found someone. It hasn’t been show business since, not when Taehyung is looking for love and finds it everywhere except where you wish he would look most. 

Maybe you’re just being selfish. Taehyung doesn’t have to love you for you to love him. You knew that. You lived with that. He’s your best friend. He always will be. You can’t do anything to force him to love you back. You had always been fine with just being friends. 

But just—knowing that he doesn’t feel the same. Having that certainty rooted deep within you. That’s the part that hurts the most. 

Taehyung comes home earlier than he normally would on a day like this, catching you in the kitchen as you brew some chamomile tea, hoping that it will calm the waves that crash against the pier inside you. You turn to meet his eyes, and suddenly, you feel like you can’t see anything in them at all. 

“Why didn’t you come tonight?” He demands. “I looked for you and you weren’t there. Where were you?”

“Here,” you tell him. “I was thinking maybe I would go tomorrow.”

“But you’re always at my opening show,” Taehyung says, like you don’t know that already. “Why didn’t you come? Did I do something wrong?”

“No, you didn’t,” you tell him. You don’t think you’re drunk or tired enough for this conversation. At ten at night, you’re still cognizant, aware of what consequences this conversation might have when you wake up in the morning. 

“Then why weren’t you there? You know I need you there,” Taehyung pleads, coming up to you as you stand in your kitchen, waiting for the kettle to boil.

“No, I didn’t know that,” you tell him firmly. You went to his opening shows because it was tradition. Not because it was necessary. 

“You’re my good luck charm, for god’s sake, Y/N,” Taehyung says, fists curled up at his sides. You can tell that he’s trying hard not to burst at the seams, like there are so many things he’s holding at the tip of his tongue. “I did such a shit job tonight without you there. I spent the entire first half of the show looking out into the crowd so much that Lancaster asked me if I had taken anything before we started.”

“That’s not my fault,” you tell him. “I didn’t know that you thought I was your good luck charm, or whatever.” And, because you’re bitter and petty and heartbroken, you add, “I would have thought that would be something your girlfriend is.”

Taehyung loses it. “What’s been going on with you, Y/N? Why are you being like this? Ever since my first show, I feel like we’re drifting further and further apart. You never want to spend time with me, you never want to come to my afterparties, you barely spare a glance at my girlfriends when I introduce them to you, and now, you’ve stopped coming to my shows. All of these things that I thought that we shared, ever since college. Tell me, Y/N, am I doing something wrong? Is there something that I’ve missed? Because it feels like we’re fucking strangers.”

The water finishes boiling, the kettle whistling on the stovetop as steam billows from the spout. “I’m not obligated to do any of those things, Taehyung,” you tell him harshly. “Just because we did them in college doesn’t mean I have to keep doing them now. What, did you think we’d still be doing that sort of stuff when we’re thirty? Forty, fifty? They were just college traditions.”

“‘College traditions’?” Taehyung asks, astounded. “Were all of those nights that we spent together just college traditions, too? Are we not allowed to do those things anymore? I miss you, Y/N. I hate not having you around and tonight was the worst it’s ever been. I don’t know what to do or say, I don’t know how to fix this, I don’t even fucking know what’s broken.”

“I just need space, Taehyung,” you tell him, hands gripping the edge of the countertop as you stare at the laminate, eyes tracing the lines to keep you from meeting his own. “I just need some time to myself, that’s all.”

“But why, Y/N?” Taehyung pleads, He reaches over to grab your hand, holds it in between the two of you like a lifeline. 

“‘Why?’” You echo angrily. “You don’t know? You can’t tell? We’ve known each other for four years and you haven’t realized?” You tug your hand from his grasp. It’s clear you’re beating a dead horse. You wonder why you even tried in the first place. How naive you were, standing in the kitchen surrounded by scented candles and flowers and macarons, dreaming of a life with him by your side. Foolish. 

“Realized what?” 

“That I’m in love with you!” You shout, and the world goes silent. The kettle stops whistling, the water having evaporated into nothing, the packet of chamomile tea left, forgotten on the countertop. You stand there, breaths heavy, chest heaving, as you look at Taehyung, angry and mad and in love, all at once. 

“You’re what?”

“Don’t make me say it again,” you hiss. “I already know that you don’t feel the same.”

“Y/N, wait—”

“Goodnight, Taehyung.” You turn on your heels, storming into your bedroom and collapsing against the door. Finally, finally, finally, you let the tears wrack your body, sending shivers down your spine. There’s salt on your tongue and smudged liner beneath your eyes. 

You thought pressing flowers makes them last forever. But even the red carnation is starting to shrivel. 

Subject Title: New Project????

From Park, Seojoon, to me

Hi Taehyung,

You did a great job last night in Chance Card! Really proud of you for accomplishing so much. Pretty soon you’ll be on Broadway and be too big for a small manager like me. You’ll need an agent, and a publicist, and a stylist, and a dog-walker…

Anyway, just emailing to let you know that Hugo Cleveland reached out to me to see if you were interested in auditioning for his next play. He personally wanted to see if you liked the part, and would give you preference if you did want to audition. It’s called Cupid, and it’s another one of those modern-day retellings of an old tale. I thought you might like it. Attached is the script and a short description of the play. Let me know if you’d like to give it a shot! I think this might be the project that gets you onto Broadway!!

As always, contact me if you need anything at all.

Park

Taehyung, still in bed despite it being nearly noon, taps around on his phone, pulling up the description of the play. He hates reading PDFs on his phone, so he’ll check out the script on his laptop later. 

Cupid by Hugo Cleveland

Cupid chronicles the tale of the world’s most well known hopeless romantic—Cupid himself. Set in a world of magical realism, Cupid has the power to make two people fall in love with a single shot of his arrow, and spends his life walking around the city of New York, bow and arrow by his side. 

The only problem is that Cupid has no way to make people fall in love with him, because his magic operates under the assumption of soulmates—a single person meant for another. And as the years have gone by, he has searched and searched and searched over millennia, desperate to find love, but it’s almost as if everyone has soulmates except for him. 

Little does he know, he need look no further to find the person he shall spend the rest of his life with—not when his best friend has always been by his side. 

Taehyung glares at the description like it’s personally offended him. He knows that it’s just a coincidence that he happens to receive this email the morning after his fight with you, but he can’t help but feel like God is playing the world’s worst practical joke on him. 

Cursed with the memory of an actor, he replays last night in his head over and over and over again, looping the feed back and forth as your words echo in his mind. 

You don’t know? You can’t tell? We’ve known each other for four years and you haven’t realized?

He never knew what he was supposed to be looking for. You were just friends, you had always been just friends. But then he looked out in the crowd and couldn’t see you anywhere, couldn’t make out your eyes even in a sea of hundreds like he always does, and it felt like there was more than just another audience member missing. He spent the rest of the evening getting his hopes up, thinking that maybe you’re just sitting somewhere else, maybe you put in colored contacts, maybe you’re hidden by some really buff guy in front of you. 

He missed you, last night. He’s been missing you a lot recently, missing the way the days you spent together would bleed into nights. Missing the way you wrap your arms around him and smother him in cuddles, missing the way you always remember his takeout order for the fifteen different restaurants you frequent. Missing the way he once thought that you could spend your whole lives together. 

Realized what?

He supposes that he has always been a bit foolish. All of his ex-girlfriends broke up with him, never the other way around. And while they all ended on good terms, they all said the same thing to him: it always seemed like his heart belonged to someone else. But he misread that, too. He just thought that he hadn’t found the right person, yet. He would keep searching until he did. 

That I’m in love with you!

The craziest thing about it all is that your confession didn’t even shock him that much. After the initial surprise wore off, it was almost as if the dust settled around you, the storm finally calming. Like finding the last puzzle piece after thinking it had been lost for days. Like feeling everything click into place.

Taehyung has been thinking a lot about last night, but his least favorite part is always this:

I already know that you don’t feel the same.

He wishes that he could have told you. He wishes that he could have been strong enough, could have realized what he had before it slipped through his fingertips. Wishes that he could have reached out and grabbed onto you and never let go. There’s nothing more that he wants to do than see you again. You live in the same tiny New York apartment, and you’ve never felt further away from him. 

Taehyung wills himself out of bed and washes his face, clearing away the leftover makeup and the sleep in his eyes. It’s a fresh start. It’s a new day. 

He sees you standing in the kitchen, making that tea that you had left forgotten last night. He catches your eyes for just a second before he loses them again, watches as you turn your back to him in a desperate attempt to avoid contact. 

“I got a new potential show to audition for,” he says loudly, breaking the silence. 

“That’s cool,” you say, emotionless. 

“Do you want to know what it’s about?”

You don’t respond. Taehyung takes this as a cue to continue. 

“It’s about a boy on a search for love,” Taehyung begins, rallying himself despite only being able to see your back. “And he goes out and sees all of these people falling in love and wants that for himself. And he wonders why nothing is sticking, why he can’t seem to fall in love with anybody. And then he realizes that the reason he can’t seem to fall in love with anyone else is because he’s already found his person.” A pause. He’s just summarizing a story, but this feels like a confession. “His best friend.”

You turn around sharply, tea sloshing in the cup in your hand. Taehyung inhales, then exhales. It’s now or never. You’ve been friends for so long. Who’s to say you can’t be more than that?

“Don’t you think I’d play this part well?” He asks. 

You shrug, closing your eyes and breathing heavy. He can tell that you’re holding something back, trying not to burst at the seams. “I’m not sure, Tae.”

“I think I would,” Taehyung tells you confidently. He takes a step closer to you, reaches over to take the cup of tea from your hands, placing it on the counter. “Because I’ve been doing it for so long, already.”

You gasp when he kisses you, a gust of air escaping your lips and immediately mixing with his, seize up at the feeling of his lips on yours. Immediately, Taehyung wonders if he’s overstepped a boundary, or two, or five, but then he feels you relax under his touch, feels you reach your hands up to cup his cheeks as you press against him insistently, drunk on the taste of his lips on your own. 

Taehyung’s kissed a lot of people in his day, but this one is different. He’s felt sparks, seen fireworks, but with you, it’s as if he’s sinking into a warm bath after a cold day. As if he’s returning to an apartment filled with the things he loves after a long day out. As if he’s coming home. 

All of these emotions, all of the little things tucked away in the corners of his soul, in the dark attic of his heart, come bubbling up to the surface, and all he can do is hope that you can feel them, swallow them up like wine, as you press your lips against his, grinning. 

Finally, you pull yourself away, almost as if you think you’ll get drunk if you keep going. 

“How long?” You ask. 

Taehyung shrugs. “I don’t know. A while now, definitely.”

“Really?”

“I think so,” Taehyung says. “I guess that I was wrong, what I said before about looking for love. I looked everywhere, I wanted to see it in every spark that was set my way, but I forgot the most important place. I should have known.” You curl into his touch, resting your head against his chest as his arms wrap around your waist. “How about you?”

“Forever,” you breathe out. “It started and it never stopped.”

Taehyung beams. The flowerbud in his heart had been shuttered for so long, hardly watered and never in the sun. And then suddenly, the curtains opened up and the clouds began to cry, and everything blossomed. You make him feel like he’s always home. You make him feel safe. 

You make him feel like a red carnation in bloom.

↳ links are broken, but don’t forget to message me with any thoughts or feedback!

[xnyu09]

my sunflower. (Basil x M!reader)

requested by: @bohijmania

basil going on about plants as a certain boy tries to make a move.

I will admit, it felt kind of forced writing it but the thought of having a designated flower is something i would long for too.

The gold sunlight hit the blonde’s hair as he watered the flowers that he took care dearly. Plants were a way to ease his stress from the world and the deeds he did. Basil looked at the life he had been taking care of with pride. All the flowers that had bloom were bright and full of life.

His hands placed the water can to the side of the table as he placed his hands on a pot. A red Carnation was planted, greeting him with a bright, lively red. Basil stared at it with a warm smile.

“Hey Bae-sil! Whatcha’ looking at?” A voice was heard behind him. Surprised, he turned around fast to meet a certain (e/c)-eyed boy. A blush formed as Basil responded to (Y/N) who smiled cheekily, with curious eyes of which plant Basil seemed to stare at the minute he had entered the room:

“O-oh! Hey (Y/N), I didn’t hear you come in.” Basil said awkwardly, scratching his neck. He didn’t mean to stutter but you had truly caught him off guard.

“Yeah! Sorry about that, I wanted to see what ya’ up to and Polly said I could come in.” He spoke with an upbeat smile. It had felt like music to Basil.

“Soooooo, what plant are you taking care of this time?” (Y/N) spoke, coming closer to the plants as he jokingly inspected. Basil always tried to make his garden diverse, especially with each plants having their own season of bloom. But somehow he had this sort of magic (as said by Kel) that even flowers that weren’t in season, he still was able to take care of them.

“Well, I could introduce them to you if you think if it’s fine!” The sky blue eyes sparkled in excite. Basil had always been the type to talk all about his passions and desires, especially to someone who was comfortable with listening.

“Go ahead, your topics are never a bore.” (Y/N) spoke as he looked at Basil with a smile, the same smile that Basil gave to the red Carnation.

(Y/N) and Basil had been friends ever since the group had been made. Both of them and Sunny would always be together for one another. (Y/N) was often the model of Basil whenever the gang had hung out. Each picture he took of him had always made his heart flutter.

Of course, the whole group went messy when she died. However, even if the group had fallen apart, (Y/N) was still somehow there for Basil.

“Each flower sort of reminds me of the old friend group we had, I guess I felt nostalgic when I look at them. I miss those days.” Basil spoke, eyes heavily staring at the floor as (Y/N) tapped his shoulder and gave a sympathetic smile.

Reacting back, Basil smiled in a sorrowful way. Trying to brush it off, Basil started to talk, starting with the most noticeable flower. A rose.

“Roses! You already know this but roses come in many different colors and have their own unique meanings. They reminded me of Hero, not a specific color however. I think Hero is like all roses, because he’s versatile and universally loved. I wonder how he is now.” Basil’s mood changed, now happy to be talking about the plants he’s caring yet in sorrow for the people he had missed were still people he couldn’t contact.

(Y/N) watched as the passionate boy spoke with such power and knowledge. It was as if Basil had been performing on stage for so long that he had mastered it. It didn’t help with the way the sun warmed his skin with a hint of gold.

“Gladiolus, also known as the “sword flower”. They represent strength of character. The gladiolus reminded me of Aubrey, because she was always true to herself.” Both boys looked at the said flower. They had both seen the new Aubrey and felt so distant to her.

Not wanting to dwell on a negative topic, Basil continued on. “Well, obviously next is a cactus! They reminded me of Kel.”

“Was it cause he was a prick back then?” (Y/N) spoke as he giggled from the memories of the sassiness Kel always gave when he would make remarks on Aubrey as a way of fighting.

“Well... that too, but mostly because cacti are very sturdy and resilient by nature. They don’t need much care and can survive even in seemingly impossible conditions!” Basil spoke with excite once more. Cactus have been a very interesting plant towards him, with the whole ‘no need to water daily’ was such a mystery and wonder.

“I guess what I’m saying... is that even Kel could take care of a cactus. Even if he is forgetful at times.” They both laughed with the memories they shared when Kel would forget many things from using sunblock to drinking soup while it was still hot.

“These are sunflowers. They’re called that because they always face towards the sun! That’s how I wanted to be like... someone who always sees the bright side of things.” Basil mumbled the last bit to himself as he continued on with his plant rants.

“Well, I hope I’m your sun then.” (Y/N) tried to whisper it but Basil heard every single word. He blushed but didn’t want to assume so easily, thinking it wad a trick in his ears.

“Well—uh, last but not the least, red Carnations. They symbolize romantic love. I heard that they mean ‘my heart aches for you.’” Basil scratched his neck.

“Well, my heart does the same too.” (Y/N) spoke smoothly. Basil was now certain that the signs that (Y/N) had been trying to give were really true.

“Wait, are you serious?” Basil spoke surprised as a blush started to form on his warm skin-toned face.

“Well, are the red Carnations about me?” (Y/N) looked at Basil straight to the eyes as Basil responded with a nod with a shy look as his eyes went to the side when confront with the (e/c) colored eyes.

“So, you like me?” Basil hesitatingly spoke with a bit of stutter.

“Yes. I like you, Basil. I’ve always enjoyed your talks about plants and school and uh— photography. My heart always flutters when i see your eyes glisten with such emotions. I’ve been planning on make a move, so will you be my Sunflower?” (Y/N) awkwardly smiled as he held the cheek of Basil. The (h/c) boy leaned and gave a kissed on his forehead.

“I didn’t want to go ahead and kiss you on the lips without consent so I’ll take this for now.” (Y/N) smirked as he watched his crush get all flustered. He was as red as the carnations themselves.

“Well, it’s getting late! I’ll be going...Sunflower.” (Y/N) went ahead and left, slipping a little nickname for Basil who was found just standing in place.

Shock, flustered and in love, Basil had stopped functioning. Both lover boys would definitely have a heart fluttering breakdown over one another. One happy to finally get the words of his chest while the other trying to make sure that he wasn’t imagining things. Either way, they both would have their hearts fluttering for one another.

[doppel-drop-distance]

Doppel Spotlight: Giovanna

Surprise~!

I know, I know, about time, right? The hypothetical Soul Gem has broken, and the Doppel Spotlights are back from the dead! Er…temporarily, anyway. I can’t say for certain how many more of these I’m up to doing just yet. It’s a bit too early for me to make any big estimates or guarantees. But! This Doppel analysis has sat here unfinished for quite some time now! And you all have shown such lovely support that I couldn’t help but be excited looking at all this old material again. So as a gift to you all, let’s finally analyze the Doppel of our main protagonist, Iroha Tamaki!

This analysis will contain spoilers for all of Magia Record’s first arc! This does include anime-specific content, as I will be discussing certain scenes from Episodes 5 and 7! You have been warned!

Let’s dive in, shall we?

GIOVANNA

Doppel of Silence

Feature: Cuckoo

“The master of this emotion is aware of how pitiful her Doppel is and refuses to look at it. This Doppel wordlessly wraps around and strangles anything it doesn't want to hear as it continues its search for something to fill the hole in its heart. While it should be calling for someone, it is cowardly and afraid of acknowledging the reality it has concealed, and so it remains, silently covering its ears.”

It's been a while, so how about we start things off with a little refresher?

Both Giovanna and Campanella’s names are direct references to Night on the Galactic Railroad, a Japanese novel written by Kenji Miyazawa. In the story, a shy boy named Giovanni travels on a star-bound train with his close friend, Campanella. To keep things brief, I’ll leave most of the general plot details out. However, if you’d like a lengthier summary, I suggest reading the summary I provided in the previous Doppel Spotlight, which is linked here.

I should also mention I actually located an English-translated copy of Night on the Galactic Railroad! As a result, I can quote the story directly, although I cannot guarantee the accuracy of the translations or my own interpretations. Please keep that in mind as you read!

The opening scene of the novel establishes early on that Giovanni is a reserved, self-conscious boy. In class, he is certain he knows the answer to the teacher’s question. However, when called on, he doubts himself and stays silent, bringing upon the jeers of his classmates. Campanella, who also raised his hand for the question, willingly chooses not to answer, despite also knowing, in order to show some sympathy for the flustered Giovanni.

This opening scene is likely what is referenced in Giovanna’s nature as the Doppel of silence. Giovanni stays silent out of self-doubt, and as a result believes himself to be pathetic. Iroha also silences herself in her own way, being very passive, self-conscious, and reserved at the beginning of her story. And, true to that comparison, her Doppel’s reflections of insecurity make her feel pitiful, to the point where she refuses to look at it.

Giovanni’s character can also be representative of Iroha’s inner loneliness. With his mother sickly and his father out of the house, Giovanni is too occupied with taking jobs and caring for his family to have time to talk. More often, he is bullied by his peers. The only exception is with Campanella, who doesn’t bully him, and even sympathizes with him. As Giovanni and Campanella travel on the Galactic Railroad, Giovanni’s loneliness is at its clearest. Campanella begins talking to Kaoru, another passenger on the train, and Giovanni becomes morose with jealousy. See this quote here:

“Is there really nobody who will stick with me to the edges of the universe and beyond? Campanella just sits there jabbering away with that little girl, and it hurts me more than anybody knows.”

Iroha is also incredibly lonely, deep down. She lives on her own, with parents away on business trips. The anime implies she doesn’t have a lot of friends either, with her classmates talking behind her back instead. Worst of all, her sister, who she values more than anyone else, is completely absent, Iroha being the only one that remembers that she exists. Such relationships sound awfully lonely, don’t they? It’s only through her bond with Yachiyo and the rest of Mikazuki Villa that Iroha grows into her own, letting her optimism, warmth, and confidence shine through.

Giovanna’s connections to Giovanni tie her quite close to Campanella, Yachiyo’s Doppel. And, well, Yachiyo is certainly not the kind and sympathetic Campanella at first meet. Her first encounter with Iroha is cold, brutally honest, and fully intent on keeping Iroha out at any cost. We learn later on that this attitude is a wall Yachiyo puts up to protect people – that she believes the people that get close to her die, and that she still struggles with the guilt of her past. Yet, it is Iroha who shows sympathy to Yachiyo, breaking down that wall between them. For example, let’s take a look at Chapter Six. After a trip to the Memory Museum Uwasa, Yachiyo has been reminded of the death in her life and is reflexively closing herself off again to keep Iroha safe. Iroha once shriveled up in response to Yachiyo’s intimidating rejection, but now, as her friend, she isn’t having it. She says this:

“You saying there’s nothing you can do to help Tsuruno and the others… It makes me feel sad…Lonely…We fought together all this time…But more than that, I’m angry. I’m angry with you, Yachiyo...”

“I’m your friend, Yachiyo. And as your friend, I’m going to take out that Uwasa, all on my own! I’m going to be the one to protect you. I’ll smash this made-up idea you have of me sacrificing myself for you!”

Just as Giovanni interprets his journey with Campanella as a sign to stay diligent in life, Iroha’s friendship with Yachiyo allows her to steady her own resolve and fight adamantly. Their namesake connection is a sign of their bond, and their newfound devotion to fight together and protect each other.

To wrap up this Galactic Railroad talk, have you noticed that in many of the anime’s early episodes, Iroha is riding on a train? In fact, it is on a train that Iroha is whisked away to Zenobia’s Barrier in Kamihama, where she meets Yachiyo for the first time. Perhaps a stretch, but a fun little detail regardless.

Anyway, there’s far more to Giovanna than story connections! Giovanna’s silent nature reflects a lot of Iroha’s character struggles: mainly, her feelings of denial, and her inclination towards self-sacrifice.

“This Doppel wordlessly wraps around and strangles anything it doesn't want to hear as it continues its search for something to fill the hole in its heart. While it should be calling for someone, it is cowardly and afraid of acknowledging the reality it has concealed, and so it remains, silently covering its ears.”

When you think of someone “strangling anything it doesn’t want to hear”, concealing their own reality and being afraid of acknowledging it...well, that sounds a lot like someone who doesn’t want to accept the truth.

Iroha shows quite a bit of denial in her search for Ui. The odds are stacked against her for a lot of Arc 1. She finds little to no clues wherever she searches, and the Ui she encounters from the Uwasa of the Commoner’s Horse is only a fake. Iroha is certain that Touka and Nemu, Ui’s closest friends, will remember Ui. But, they do not, and only ridicule Iroha for her seemingly impossible set of memories. Throughout Chapter Ten she is belittled for sticking to her goals. She’s ensured on all fronts that Touka and Nemu aren’t believing her, and that there’s nothing she can do to change their minds. But, no matter how many times Iroha is told by the world that she’s believing in a lie, she never lets her belief go.

“I’m still going. No matter what you say. I’m bringing Ui back with me…She’s the whole reason I came back to Kamihama.”

This stubborn determination, when twisted by the corrupt perception of a Witch, is far more like paranoid desire: an aching, fearful need to find whatever is missing in her heart and get rid of whatever threatens it.

Following this, let’s talk about Giovanna’s feature: a cuckoo. Cuckoos are solitary birds, shy and secretive, and best known for their calls. Yet, Giovanna’s beak is tied up with cloth. She cannot call for anyone. Her journey to find Ui is painted as one of futility: Giovanna searches and searches for the one she’s longed for, but in the end, is too afraid to call out to her.

Here’s a fun detail, by the way:

In Episode 5, when Iroha summons her Doppel for the first time, Giovanna actually does not have bandages around her beak (which is why she’s able to let out that high-pitched shriek):

In future appearances, however, Giovanna does have the bandages around her beak.

Come to think of it, Giovanna looks rather... different in her first appearance, doesn’t she? Not only is her beak not bandaged, but her colors are a lot redder and more decayed, her cloak is worn and full of holes, and the crown around her head is gone. This may just be a stylistic choice for Iroha’s first Doppel, but I can’t help but wonder if it’s a sign for something else. Maybe that Giovanna is angry with the Commoner’s Horse Uwasa for projecting an illusion of Ui? Giovanna does fight a lot more aggressively here than in any other appearance, after all - she wraps the Uwasa up and drills into it with her beak. Meanwhile, in her second appearance, she only attacks an Uwasa with her bandages.

Giovanna’s unwillingness to call for others actually brings up an interesting facet of Iroha’s character: her sacrificial devotion. The reason that Iroha unleashes her Doppel in Episode 5 is because she neglects her own needs in favor of others. She believes that she must be strong on her own to find Ui, a thought reflected by her own Doppel’s words in Episode 7:

“Stronger…If you don’t become strong, you won’t be able to find anything! Cover your ears! Shut those eyes! Silence determines fate!”

When Iroha fails to find Ui within the Uwasa of the Commoner’s Horse, she is filled with despair. Ui was right before her eyes, proving the beliefs that even she may have begun to doubt. Yet, in that same instant she recognizes the Ui she sees is nothing but an illusion the Uwasa projected for her. So close, and yet so far. When Iroha begins to succumb to her despair, she even mentions that it might’ve been from the shock of not seeing Ui.

With all of these feelings, all of this disappointment and despair, who does Iroha use her only Grief Seed on? Yachiyo, of course. At this point in the story, Iroha wants to be friends with Yachiyo, but they are not seen as equals. She is not comfortable enough to open up to Yachiyo about her feelings, and neither is Yachiyo with her own. Yet, Iroha still sacrifices herself to keep Yachiyo from falling to despair. And by staying silent about her own woes, Iroha falls to her despair for the first time, summoning her Doppel.

Let’s keep this topic in mind and focus on something I haven’t addressed before: the Magia Archive artbook! There are some production notes in here that provide insights on the meaning and symbolism behind a Doppel. Unfortunately, I don’t know Japanese, but I did find a translation of Giovanna’s section, courtesy of @greenyvertekins. Here is a small piece from it that I would like to highlight:

“The motif is a bird flute and a saint with a rabbit-like appearance.”

The theme of a “saint” struck me as a little odd, at first. I wasn’t sure where I was supposed to get that idea from her design. But, it did lead me to a unique little find, which is probably a stretch, but maybe kind of cool anyway?

(credit to Silvermoon424 on Reddit for the scan!)

It’s a bit harder to see in the official art, but that crown circling Giovanna’s head – to me, it sort of looks like a crown of thorns. A crown of thorns is a very striking sign of self-sacrifice.

And sure, this is the stretchiest stretch that ever stretched, but those drop-like patterns on Giovanna’s body are red, and kind of look like drops of blood, right? Beads of blood that have also been associated with the crown of thorns, r-right? Right…?

Phew…I’ve been going on for a while, haven’t I? Is this…is this longer than the first one? I don’t even know anymore…Let’s silently wrap this up with one more, fun little stretch on my part.

Both cuckoos and bunnies, which are elements of Giovanna’s design, are symbolically representative of spring. Spring is cherry blossom season in Japan, and the Eternal Sakura Uwasa lives near a cherry blossom tree only said to bloom when Touka, Nemu, Ui and Iroha are united again. At the end of the event Cherry Blossom Dreams, the Eternal Sakura even remarks that “spring can finally begin” because they are all together. So, if you squint really hard, maaaaybe the springtime connections here are representative of Iroha, Touka, Nemu, and Ui’s union under the cherry blossom tree. But probably not. I’m just having some fun.

And, that’s it! That’s all I’ve got for Giovanna! Wow! That sure was something!

I hope you all enjoyed my silly little analysis! I know some of these connections are a bit loose, but I like drawing whatever parallels I can with what understanding I have, haha. It was great to write one of these again and share it with you all!

If you have any of your own thoughts, additions, or corrections, do send them along! I would love to hear other interpretations!

[luvidzy]

☆ genre: fluff, flower-shop!au

☆ pairing: jin yonghoon x reader

☆ summary: a man walks into your flower shop one day and completely changes everything in your life

☆ word count: 2.3k

The sunlight streamed in through the large glass windows of the store. The AC blew a light breeze through the main room, and you allowed yourself to deeply inhale the soft floral scents of the flower shop.

You always believed that getting a job here was the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to you. It was so rare for people to find jobs that they truly loved, especially on the first try, but it seemed like you had been one of the lucky ones. 

The day was fairly slow, as most of the weekdays were. A few people came in looking for bouquets for special anniversaries, or to ask about ordering a few arrangements for parties, but other than that you had been left alone to enjoy the ambience of the store and read a little bit of the book you always kept behind the counter.

You had only gotten a few pages through when the bell above the door chimed. Placing your bookmark softly into the book, you placed it on the counter and stood up to greet the customer.

“Welcome to Start of Spring, what can I help you with today?” you asked, moving to get a better view of the man that had just walked in. He was tall, with brown hair and brown eyes. He had his hands tucked into a tan overcoat, a white turtleneck peeking out from underneath it as he strolled into the shop. He was incredibly handsome and you could feel your cheeks heat up a bit as you watched him.

He turned to you and beamed. You had to shake yourself out of it, reminding yourself that you could not fall for a man that you had literally just met. He removed one of his hands to wave at you politely as you made your way closer to him.

“Hi! I need a bouquet of flowers, but I have absolutely no idea what kind to get. Do you think you could help me out?” he asked. You nodded happily, a smile slipping onto your face. You loved when customers didn’t have a specific flower arrangement in mind. It meant that you could take the reins and make something beautiful from scratch, just the way you preferred to do it. 

“Sure! Usually I recommend making a bouquet of flowers that represent the occasion or what feeling you want to convey,” you explained, looking up at the stranger. You saw his eyebrows furrow a bit in confusion, and couldn’t help but giggle at how his nose scrunched as the gears in his brain turned.

“Flowers are a language. Each flower has a meaning, and even different flower colors can mean different things. It’s an amazing way to tell someone something when you can’t find the words to say it aloud,” you said, before pointing to the large bucket full of tulips that you were in front of.

“Tulips represent love, warmth, and comfort, so we usually include them in bouquets for anniversaries or weddings. Hibiscuses,” you pointed to the vibrant red flowers beside the tulips, “symbolize delicate beauty, so we include those in bouquets for dates, and even bouquets for certain family members.”

The stranger nodded, his lips parted in slight awe. He couldn’t help but observe you as you rambled on about the language of flowers, your eyes sparkling. Finally, you turned to look back up at him with a wide smile on your face. 

“So tell me, what kind of message do you want to convey….?” You trailed off as you realized you’d never gotten the name of the customer that was in front of you.

“Yonghoon. My name is Yonghoon,” He finally spoke up, a shy smile slipping onto his lips. You smiled and nodded.

“What message do you want to convey, Yonghoon?”

“Well, these are flowers for some friends of mine. They have been working really hard lately with our new project, and I want to give them something to show how thankful I am. Our apartment is pretty dull, so I thought some flowers would be a good idea,” Yonghoon explained. 

You nodded, taking in the information, before moving towards the counter to pull out a notepad. “Well, yellow roses often symbolize friendship, so I think those would be an obvious choice. Irises are seen as a symbol of admiration, and they’ll compliment the yellow of the roses quite nicely. And then I think some pink tulips would also fit well with the yellow and the white of the irises,” you said, jotting some things down on the paper.

“I thought you said tulips represent love?” Yonghoon said, which caused you to laugh.

“I did, but I also said different colors can mean different things. Red tulips mostly mean love, but pink tulips represent happiness,” you explained, before handing him the list you had written with the flowers and their meaning. 

“Does this look good? Or would you like me to add anything?” Yonghoon’s eyes darted across your neat handwriting, before looking up with a smile.

“This looks perfect. You really know your flowers,” he joked. You chuckled, before moving to collect the flowers you’d need for the bouquet. 

“I’d hope so. I’ve only worked here for 2 years.” Yonghoon laughed at your quip, his eyes following as you darted across the shop, plucking flowers carefully from their buckets and gathering them delicately in one hand. 

Finally you walked back over towards him, tying the flowers together with a piece of string and wrapping them elegantly in brightly colored tissue paper.

“There, all finished,” you said, holding the masterpiece out to Yonghoon. He smiled at it, gently grabbing it with one hand. As he did, your fingers brushed and you felt yourself flinch slightly at the feeling of electricity that ran down your spine. Despite this, you forced yourself to ignore the now pounding heart in your chest in favor of grabbing the credit card Yonghoon was holding out to you.

“Thank you…?”

“Y/N,” you responded as you handed him his card back. He smiled softly as he slipped the plastic back into his pocket.

“A beautiful name. Thank you, Y/N,” he said, giving you one last nod before exiting out the door. You plopped back down into the chair as you reached for your book, letting out a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding. You shook your head, blaming your flustered state on the heat because, even though you knew the A/C was on, you didn’t want to admit the real reason for your burning cheeks.

Much to your surprise, Yonghoon continued to come in every week with a new reason to buy flowers. Each visit got longer and longer, with him asking millions of questions on different flowers to the point where you almost couldn’t answer them. However, as much as you did not want to admit it, you didn’t mind the visits he made. He was incredibly easy to talk to, his smile made your heart melt in your chest, and he seemed genuinely interested in everything that you said. Week after week, you found yourself falling deeper and deeper for Yonghoon, and every week you became a little less opposed to the idea of his visits.

Meanwhile, Yonghoon was enjoying every visit that he made to your store. His bandmates, however, could not say the same. Their dorms had been turned into a small flower shop of their own and, while it was pretty, it was not very functional.

“Yonghoon, I can’t even find a spot to put my coffee cup down on the table!” Kanghyun whined as he plopped down onto the couch next to his leader. The other boys nodded their heads in agreement, making mentions of the countless other things that Yonghoons flowers stopped them from doing. Yonghoon pouted as he slumped into his seat, arms crossed.

“But I have no other reason to go see them but to get flowers! I’m sorry that love comes at such a beautiful price,” Yonghoon huffed dramatically. Dongmyeong rolled his eyes as he sat up, crossing his legs.

“Why don’t you just tell them how you feel?” “Are you crazy? What if they say no?”

“They won’t. I’m sure they’re just as enamored with you as you are them. Come on, you can even do it in an extremely dramatic and romantic way, since that’s what you like best,” Harin argued, earning a punch in the shoulder from Yonghoon, who sighed soon after.

“Fine. But if this goes wrong, I’m never getting rid of these flowers.”

2 months after his first visit, Yonghoon walked into the flower shop already greeting you as you sat behind the counter reading as you usually did. You looked and grinned at him, the grin that made Yonghoon’s own heart flutter, before closing your book and standing up.

“Why welcome back. What can I do for you today, Yonghoon?” you asked, pulling out your pen and notepad to write down the flowers that he would need. He smiled as he leaned against the counter and smirked.

“I need a bouquet to confess to someone. I want it to be incredibly romantic, the whole 9 yards, you know?” Yonghoon said. You froze as you heard the words slip out of your mouth. A bouquet to confess to someone should not have made your heart sink the way that it did, but the thought of him romancing another person with the flowers you recommended made you want to throw up and cry at the same time.

“I… I see. Well, why don’t you tell me about them so I can recommend you a bouquet,” you asked, trying to settle your shaky voice. If Yonghoon noticed, he didn’t say anything as he continued to smile.

“Well, they’re extremely pretty and super smart. They are kind and generous, and always know how to make me laugh. I always feel warm when I’m with them, like I just drank the best hot chocolate, and they’re the perfect combination of tough and delicate,” he rambled, listing off thing after thing. Each note that you wrote down about this mystery person had your heart aching. This person sounded perfect, and you were happy for Yonghoon, but you couldn’t help but pity yourself at the fact that he was not buying these flowers for you.

“Well I think red roses are a must… and probably some peonies as well for beauty. We could add some carnations as well, if you’d like?” you asked, trying not to look at Yonghoon. You heard him hum in thought for a moment, before shifting his weight a little bit.

“I think some red tulips and maybe some hibiscuses would be nice,” Yonghoon said. You nodded quickly, writing them down, before handing the list to him with trembling fingers. His eyes scanned it like the first time he had come into the shop, before he beamed and nodded.

“Perfect!” You swallowed harshly, before moving to gather the flowers. You moved slowly, trying to stop the tears that threatened to prick your eyes with each flower that you picked up and held in your grasp.

Finally you had a bouquet of the most beautiful flowers, wrapping them gently and making them look as elegant as you could. After all, even if they were another person, you wanted Yonghoon to like them as much as you liked him.

“Here. I’m sure they’ll love them,” you said, plastering a small smile on your face in an attempt to not look as destroyed as you were feeling on the inside. Yonghoon chuckled lightly and nodded, smiling softly as he looked at the flowers.

“They’ll love them.” The credit card was exchanged, and then you both just stood there, neither of you speaking. You wished Yonghoon would just leave so you could cry in peace, but he fidgeted with the tissue paper around the flowers, his feet seemingly glued to the spot across the counter.

“It’s much harder to do this than I thought,” Yonghoon chuckled out. You looked at him in confusion, trying to figure out what he meant. It was only when you finally looked at his face, making eye contact with him, that he let a warm smile melt across his face, his hands moving to hold the flowers out.

“Is there something wrong with them?” you asked, reaching to take them and inspecting them to try and find the issues. Yonghoon chuckled, running a hand through his silky brown hair, before shaking his head.

“No, they are for you.” You felt like the world had just stopped around you. Your hands froze and you stared at him, mouth parted in surprise. These were for you? But he had said he wanted to use them to confess, and had even described the person to you!

“You were the person that I was describing, and I do want to confess. I want to confess to you,” Yonghoon replied, and you flushed as you realized that your thoughts had been spoken aloud. You held the flowers carefully to your chest, before looking up at him with eyes full of happiness.

“You idiot. You scared me, I thought you were buying these for another person!” you said, reaching out to hit his shoulder playfully. Yonghoon’s expression dropped as he realized his mistake and he sighed, before letting out a weak chuckle.

“Guess I’m not great at this confessing thing.”

“No… you’re wonderful at it. Seriously this is the cutest thing anyone has ever done for me. You used the thing that I love the most to tell me that you like me, and that overshadows any stupid assumptions I may have made,” you said. His expression lit up at your words and he smiled at you brightly.

“Does that mean I have permission to take you on a date?” He asked hopefully. You pretended to think, before nodding eagerly, giggling as you did so.

“It does, but next time buy me flowers from a different flower shop. I want to be surprised.” Yonghoon nodded happily, before he made his way behind the counter to give you a hug.

You melted into his arms, happily hugging him back with affection. There was nothing more perfect than hugging the man you loved in the place that you loved, and you were lucky enough to have that.

[strawberrylemonz]

Introductions

Part 11

Part 12 [CURRENT]

Part 13

DT: @petrichormeraki @applepie1000 @jump-in-the-cadillac @ivorylin and @sydneys-sketches

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Uncertainty filled the group as they walked through the open gates, allowing the guests to freely venture in. As the crowd began to pass them, venturing off to different parts of the park, the lovely trio tried to get the group’s minds off of their worries. Lani was the first to pipe up. 

“So, what’s the first area of the park?”

That seemed to be the right thing to say, because Tommy immediately beamed with pride. Pulling up the pamphlet, he pointed to the first section before pointing at the crossroads sign by the group. 

“Tavern Town! Oh, you guys are going to love the cavern, you all have your own sections to represent each of you! Except Grian, he has two. I also added Kristin, Theo and Clementine! It’s all cool and shit.”

“A section? For me? Oh, Tommy! I knew I was your best friend! I’m smiling behind my mask! Let’s get going, then!”

“You’re still short as hell, Drista”

“I am not! At least my posture isn’t crap”

“My posture is perfectly fine!”

“Tell me that when you don’t need to fix it once it’s brought up”

“Shut up”

Adjusting the wiggly child in his arms, Tommy stuck his tongue out at Drista before leading the group through the archway for Tavern Town. There, they encountered their first member of Dream’s server.

“Tommy, Tubbo, thank god you two are alright! And Fundy, I’m glad you’re safe with them!”

Tommy didn’t tense up at the voice, why would he? As Grian plucked Clementine from Tommy’s arms, Tommy turned and smiled. Walking up with joy, he opened his arms in a welcoming manner.

“Sam! Holy shit, I didn’t think you’d be here! Guys, this is Sam! He’s great, you guys. Holy shit, Sam, I still have the creeper head you gave me.”

Taking notice of the genuine relief in Sam’s face and tone, Tommy allowed him to give him a hug. Tubbo joined in, Fundy following in suit. After everyone pulled away, Sam got a good look at them all. Giving a genuine smile, he let out a laugh as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Man, look at you all. You’ve all grown, I can hardly recognize you guys. I was so nervous that you were all gone for good. I’m sorry that I wasn’t enough to keep you from the terrible things you faced up until your disappearance. I-”

“It’s not your fault, man. No one could have seen that coming.”

“That’s not an excuse, Tommy. You were a child who didn’t get to be a child. You shouldn’t have had to deal with what you dealt with.”

“Tommy! Tubbo! Fundy! There you guys are! Sam, you found them!”

Tubbo smiled as he bolted in for a hug, Tommy and Fundy laughing as they waved to the new addition to the conversation.

“Puffy!”

The rest of the group watched with smiles at the reunions, Lani and Drista waving hellos when they were acknowledged. After being handed off to other members of the group, Theo and Clem were eventually put down on the ground. Huffing around with how much attention they were not receiving, they decided to do something about it. Shifting into a pig, Clem gave her cousin a nod, which Theo returned. Inhaling, the two opened their mouths and let their presences known. Clem began squealing like a pig as Theo stood beside her, head in the air as he let out a monotone scream. They didn’t stop, completely disregarding the pleas from the group. Finally, they were lifted into the arms of Fundy and Tommy. Theo immediately closed his mouth into a smile, smiling blankly at an amused Sam and Puffy. Clem squealed once more, before poofing back into her usual self, a gremlin grin being thrown at Sam and Puffy. 

“Sorry about that. This is Theo, my son. That, over there, is Clementine, but we call her Clem. She’s Tommy’s.”

After hearing her name, Clem perked up in Tommy’s arms. Giving a determined smile, she clenched her fists and glared at Sam, who was standing there in utter confusion. As he opened his mouth to nervously ask about her actions, Sam was left speechless as Clem poofed once more. She was inexperienced, that much was certain, but she was also determined. This was obvious based on her current form. As she beamed up at him, Sam could only stare as creeper-like features covered the small child. As she shifted back to her usual form, she and Theo clapped at her achievement. Laughing at the interaction, Tommy held Clementine towards Sam. After looking back at Tommy for a final nod of approval, Sam carefully pulled an excited Clem into his arms. His nervousness from holding the child increased the moment she put her small hands on his face, curious. He held his breath as he stared down at her curious, blue eyes. His concern, however, melted away the moment she giggle and papped his cheeks over and over again with her tiny hands, squealing happily as she did so.

“Holy shit, Sam, she seems to have warmed up to you quickly. Aside from Theo, you’re the only one. Even Fundy took a while.”

“My heart is wounded, she's chosen Sam over me”

“You’re my number one, Papa”

“Thank you, Theo. You’re mine, too”

Sam beamed with pride and happiness at the confirmation that Clem liked him. As she turned to face Puffy, she squeaked and shrunk into Sam’s embrace, her face flushing. As she mumbled incoherent words, she waved at the woman, who gave a friendly wave back. Tommy let out a laugh as he shook his head.

“Don’t worry, Puffy, she likes you. She’s just shy because you’re pretty, she does that to a lot of the people she meets.”

“I LIKE YOUR HAIR!”

Puffy blinked a few times before peering down. There, tugging her coat whilst pointing at her hair with starry eyes, stood a small Theo. Fundy made confused noises as he glanced between his arms and his son, not sure how he didn’t realize that he had escaped his embrace. As Fundy stood there, questioning the small boy, Puffy just smiled. Kneeling down, she plucked the entranced child off the ground and into her arms.

“Thank you! Isn’t it nice? You wanna touch it?”

A joyful laugh left her mouth as the small child nodded his head ferociously. Once he had her approval, he climbed up her, laying on her shoulder for support. Letting out a laugh, he plunged his tiny paws into her hair. Gasping in delight, he kicked his feet, which were hanging off Puffy, with excitement, whilst being sure to not hit her. With a giddy laugh, he caught the attention of his younger cousin, who was playing with Sam’s fingers.

“Clem! ClemClemClemClemClemClem! Look! Her hair is soft!”

Puffy could only laugh as Theo propelled himself up, throwing himself backwards. As she caught the child in her arms, he smiled at his dad, who was rubbing his temples. 

“Papa! Her hair is so colorful and soft and pretty!!!!”

“Puffy, I am so sorry-”

“Don’t be! He’s adorable! Cute little duckling”

“Duckling? But? Wait, Papa, I thought I was a fox. Am I really a duckling? Clem, am I a duckling?”

Theo peered over to his cousin, who was ignoring him. Frowning, he crossed his arms and sunk into Puffy’s hold as he watched his cousin as she put her hand against Sam’s, their palms touching. Eye’s widening at the size difference, she glanced up at the amused man.

“Hand! Big! Big hand! Hand is big! Big! Big! Big! Big! Big! Big!”

“Heh, yeah! I have a bigger hand.”

Laughter came from the group as the small girl nodded, incoherent words leaving her mouth. Realizing that they wouldn’t be getting their children back any time soon, Fundy shook his head as Tommy smiled at the sight. After a few more words were exchanged, Tommy led their group into the cavern. Sucking in a breath, he watched as Sam and Puffy walked over to their sections, taking in every detail Tommy put in. As Theo and Clem pointed out their favorite bits, Tommy joined Tubbo’s side, who was looking at his own, Drista and Lani standing next to him, comparing their own sections to each other. 

“You added so much. Is that a copy of my compass?”

“Yeah, it points to my own compass”

“Awwwwww”

“Don’t aw me, Tubbo”

“Okay, Tommy”

“Hey, Tommy! Is it alright if we move to the next rows of sections? Clemmy and Theo want to show us their favorite parts”

“Yeah, Sam, sure. Let’s get going”

Grian ruffled Tommy’s hair, who griped and complained about his hair. Kristin playfully bopped Grian’s head before she peered behind her at Sam and Puffy, who were both entranced with the children in their arms. Tommy only stopped when a hand stopped him in his place. Peering to the owner of the arm, he quirked an eyebrow at Drista. Slightly lifting her mask, she frowned and pointed a finger in front of the group. There, standing in front of the large section for the royal family of the Antarctic Empire, was the remaining members of the Dream SMP. Although he couldn’t mentally construct the sentences he found names slipping from his mouth as he spotted them, standing directly in front of the family portrait.

“Phil? Techno? Wi-Wilbur?”