#forced to vibe check by profession

[roadkillxd]

as a soldier should i’ve got you covered 🫡

alex and husband reader spend a loving and romantic night together, let’s say reader is a special forces operative and just got off a hard mission so alex absolutely spoils him, candlelit love making (bottom reader) followed by a rose petal, candlelit bath where he just cuddles reader in front of him 🥹🤌🏽 just alex being totally and utterly in love w his hubby? 🧎🏽

— 🐍

Thank youuu so much. Just was feeling some sappy angsty vibes last night and this helped me channel that ♥ Sending kisses.

Alex x M!Reader ↪ 2055 words — 18+ / SMUT & ANGST.

Content tags — cis male submissive reader, cis male dominant Alex, referenced/implied post-traumatic stress disorder, minor subspace, unsafe sex, crying, blindfolds, referenced/implied injury, established relationship, penetrative sex, anal sex, fingering, stress relief, massages, dinner, candles, and hot baths. 

You had to remember to thank Price when you got back from leave. The bastard had gotten in contact with Alex post-mission and told him the bits he was permitted to share—mostly the bits that meant you were a stressed, exhausted, and miserable ball of anxiety. 

Price knew you well. Well enough to know you wouldn’t tell Alex, because as much as Alex encouraged you to share—two people that understand each other’s lives and professions and how the two entangle—it was hard not to feel like you were only weighing him down.

And so you were mad at first, when you came home and instead of takeout like usual it was a nice home cooked dinner that Alex had obviously spent hours preparing, making most things from scratch. Both of your pensions for fast food meant you often forgot how good of a cook Alex was.

After some digging Alex had finally admitted that Price reached out. It felt a little like meddling, yes, but after Alex had set your plate and cuddled up close to you in a neighboring barstool to borderline spoon feed you half of it, kissing your cheeks and hairline sweetly, you’d slowly relaxed into it, realizing this was probably for the best.

“Hey,” Alex murmurs, rounding the counter. His hands are slightly damp from washing the dishes when they rest on your forearms, rubbing up and down, “trust me?”

“‘Course,” you breathe, giving him a tired smile that doesn’t hold for long. 

He moves to stand behind you, hands tracing up your arms, stopping at your shoulders to press into the muscles there, massaging the aching tissue. You groan, arching back into his touch as his lean, strong fingers work out the knots and kinks.

He finally pulls his hands away, returning to bring a strip of cloth into your vision. A blindfold. He’s delicate as he wraps it around your head, tying it carefully but snug. His nails trail down your spine, making you shiver.

“Still good?” He checks in. You nod and he hums, wrapping his arms around you, kissing your neck as he turns you in your stool, slipping an arm under the crook of your knees to haul you into his arms bridal style.

“Jesus Christ!” You choke, clinging to his shoulders, pressing your face to the crook of his neck, breathing in his aftershave.

He chuckles, squeezing you tighter to his chest. 

The walk is short but peaceful, and you nearly doze off against his warm, strong body, surrounded by the comforting scent of him and the sound of wood creaking beneath his feet.

You cling to him even as he tries to set you down on the bed and he laughs, placing his hands over yours gripping at his shoulder. 

“Just for a minute, c’mon,” he urges, the smile in his voice evident.

You release him with a pout, hearing heightened as you hone in on his movements throughout the room.

You hear the soft clicking of a lighter, followed not soon after by the smokey smell of eucalyptus. You breathe in slow and steady, trying to let yourself relax against the soft bedding. 

Despite your best efforts, the lack of sight, the envelopment of the darkness gives way for your imagination. The sounds of gunfire and yelling, the feeling of mud and blood indistinguishably caked onto your skin and gear. The immense amount of ache in your bones, the sharp pain in your brain as Soap had barely managed to drag you into cover when you’d finally collapsed from blood loss. 

You startle when you feel hands on you again, ready to fight when Alex speaks, soothing you.

“It’s just me, just me, you’re okay,” he says quickly. You keep your hands on his wrists as he trails them from your shoulders up, not holding, just following.

He pulls the blindfold free and you blink, eyes adjusting to the dim, flickering light of the room. You first look at Alex, who’s already stripped down to his underwear, body flushed and littered in little knicks and scars. You scan the room, candles scattered about, little flames dancing across the walls. It makes you smile, followed by a bubbling laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Alex says, mock offended, big smile on his face hearing your genuine, full laugh for the first time tonight.

“You’re a romantic sap, Keller,” you grin, pulling him in for a kiss.

He laughs against your lips, humming happily.

“I’ve barely gotten started,” he murmurs, kissing you again, slow and sweet, tongue sweeping against your lower lip in a silent request.

You part your lips, feeling him lick along your tongue and teeth, making you moan softly. He manages to undo your belt, shimmying you out of your jeans but pointedly leaving your briefs on, his hands trailing up under your shirt next, groping at your chest gently before encouraging you to lift your arms to remove it

“Just trying to get laid then, huh?” You half-joke.

Alex frowns though, a genuine look of concern crossing over his face as his hands freeze on your hips.

“You don’t actually think that…” he trails off, staring at you with sad eyes.

You shrug in response. 

“It’s been a while since we’ve had time for each other,” you admit, voice soft, “just… I wouldn’t blame you. Not that you need all the fanfare to get in my pants—”

“Hey, come on,” Alex says, urging. He kisses you again, quick and chaste, cupping your cheek as he pulls back “this isn’t about me, alright? I promise. It’s about you. I know… I know things were tough on your last op and I just wanted to… remind you. That, I…”

He trails off, swallowing, his voice thick. He’s looking at the wall now beside you, and you realize his eyes are a little glassy.

“Please don’t cry,” you say, tone jokingly annoyed and petulant, though you don’t know if you could actually handle it if he did start.

“I’m okay,” he laughs wetly, “I just realized we don’t do stuff like this a lot and… I don’t show my appreciation for you enough. I mean… I know it’s kind of a mood killer but… there’s always the chance we don’t come home, y’know?”

“You don’t have to do all this, though. To show me.”

“But I want to,” he murmurs, leaning in for another kiss, this one long and deep, licking into your mouth once again, “if you’ll let me.”

Nodding, you sigh contentedly against his lips, letting him lay you back down against the bed. He trails down your torso, licking and kissing, making you squirm when he briefly sucks at your hardened nipples.

His mustache tickles your tummy, and he smiles as you wiggle from the sensation, looking up at you all beautiful and splayed out for him.

He gently hooks his thumbs in your underwear, pulling them down your thighs, down your legs and off. You let out a soft breath as your cock is freed, hard and pressed against your stomach. 

He leans back down, licking a stripe from the base of your shaft all the way to the tip before pulling it into his mouth, sucking at the swollen cockhead. You moan quietly at the feeling, the wet heat enveloping your sensitive flesh. He’s always been so skilled with his mouth, even the first time he sucked you off—having awkwardly admitted he’d never been with a man at all—he was so, so good at pleasing you, taking directions so well as he trained his throat to take you—just so eager to please.

Now he takes you with ease, holding the base of your cock, enveloping the whole of the flesh without barely a gag. He bobs his head up and down your length slowly, taking his time to pleasure you. 

He massages your balls with his freehand, feeling for when they draw up tight so he can slide his mouth off of you, making you whine, being denied your pleasure.

“Shh shh, I got you,” he coos, the soft click of a cap followed by his slick fingers teasing your hole making you pant. 

The lube quickly heats inside you, making you so, so much more sensitive, realizing quickly he’s bought warming jelly for tonight.

“Alex,” you whine, back arching, moving your hands down to tug at his hair and shoulders, “need you.”

Alex coos again, moving up your body to drape himself over you, his arm bent at an awkward angle to keep stretching you open on his nimble fingers. You wrap your arms around his torso, clinging tight to him, burying your face against the crook of his neck.

Alex can feel the warm wetness dripping against his shoulder, and knows not to say anything. 

He just holds you tight, slipping a second, then a third finger into you as you rock your hips, desperately humping down onto the digits.

“You’re okay, sweetheart,” he says. You sniffle, moaning as he slips his fingers free, hole clenching at the idea of what comes next. 

Your body shivers in anticipation, so pent up, so in need of release after the hell you’ve slogged through the past week. Need to feel Alex fill you up, make you feel whole again, like you only ever feel when you’re with him.

You feel the head of his long cock brush your hole and whine, rocking your hips down to try and take him in.

“Slow,” he chuckles, running his free hand through your hair, whispering a soft “let me make love to you.”

You moan softly, nodding as your head rolls back, feeling him slowly begin to press into you, stretching you around his pulsing girth.

“Atta boy,” he hums, “taking me so well, sweetheart. Makin’ you feel good?”

“Fuck, yes,” you groan, feeling his sharp smile against your throat as he rocks his hips, slow and steady. 

For once the pace is enough—connects to some deep yearning inside you you didn’t think you’d ever feel again, not since all the shit you’ve been through. You scratch up and down his back, making him groan and hiss, his cock twitching excitedly inside of your tight walls.

The slow drag of his length within your walls, the steady pressure tapping against your prostate, the burning hot lube has your whole body tingling, skin covered in goosebumps. You feel like you’re going to shake apart, finally from pleasure instead of anxiety. 

You moan his name over and over like a manta, hands grasping and clawing wherever they can reach. 

“Look at me, baby,” he groans, and you do, opening your eyes to stare into those piercing sky blues. They always make you feel so bare, so laid out for him to pick apart. A vulture to roadkill. 

You cry out, stomach spasming as you cum untouched, splattering between the both of your tummies and making the skin there sticky and wet. Alex borderline growls, forehead bonking against yours, those beautiful eyes slamming shut as he ruts into you two, three more times before he’s spilling into you, hot cum pumping you full.

You lay limp, a small noise of protest escaping your throat as Alex catches his breath and gently sits up. He keeps his softening cock in you for a moment, massaging at your tummy as residual twitches travel through the muscle there.

When he finally slips free you whine, and he coos a loving “I know, I know,” as he soothes you, tenderly scratching at the skin behind your ear, making you shiver and arch into the touch.

He leaves for what could be seconds or hours, though you doubt very long, brain all hazy and fucked out as he runs calloused hands over your sweaty skin. You can hear white noise coming from somewhere, and realize as he carries you into the bathroom that it’s the sound of water rushing, filling up the tub.

When he sets you into the tub you can tell he’s mixed in some sort of scented bath salts, along with little pink aromatic petals that float atop the steaming water. You moan at the relief on your sore muscles, more than happy to make room for him as he slips in behind you, holding you tight to his chest.

You eventually doze off, finally safe in his arms.

[cosmoknightchaos]

Hey:)

Oh yeah if it wasn’t noticed in the ask thingy i answered summer killed a guy

Uhm,,, literally do any question for any oc. I would love to hear you talk about sky because I love her a lot but I know you wanna talk about the directors:)

Mroowwww meow:333

Cracks knuckles Alright! Here we go!

Below the cut is every single question, answered about Sky. And if I couldn't answer it with Sky, I answered it with her ET's Coffee Shop equivalent, Phoebe Kepler. Enjoy.

1. Does your OC have a voice claim, if so who?

Sky's (and Phoebe's) voice claim is Penelope Scott! Here's to hoping I don't have to change that, but if I don't find a better voice claim for KMJ, I'm probably gonna change Sky to be British as well.

2. Who's your OCs best friend? How did they become best friends?

Sky, unfortunately, is a bit lonely in the Horizon. At least time is weird there so she's not really aware of how long she's alone! Sky has Ru, of course, and the shapeshifters (occasionally accompanied by Entropy) will stop by from time to time, but she doesn't really have a best friend.

Similarly, Phoebe is a bit lonely, but not to the same extent as Sky. She's pretty close to her boss, ET, as well as having a couple friends around the city. But she doesn't really have a specific best friend.

3. What song describes your OC?

Arguably one of the biggest tragedies in my career as an OC writer is the fact that Sky doesn't really have any songs attached to her. Which pisses me off.

I have a few songs that I associate with her in my brain, but none that really describe her. You Only Know by Phemiec and Alone Together by Fall Out Boy are Sky songs, and Rat (linked in question one) and Sweet Hibiscus Tea, both by Penelope Scott, are Phoebe songs.

4. What song describes your OC and their partner/love interest?

Along Together, which I mentioned above, is a Skaide song. Cannot for the life of me explain why. It just has the right vibes.

I'll. I'll let Tristen hijack this question because I'm fucking insane about Keplerroe. They are AWFUL. The Death of Peace of Mind by Bad Omens is both a Keplerroe song and Tristen's number one song. As a quick heads up, it's a biiiit graphic. This Is Love by Air Traffic Controller is also a good Keplerroe song.

5. Do you ship your OC with a Canon character? If so who?

Jaide is canon to A Hat in Time so yes.

6. If your OC is in a fantasy setting, what profession would they be in the modern day?

So. So you'll never guess what the big change between WTSS and ETCS is.

Sky in a modern setting is Phoebe. Yeah.

7. Vice-Versa! If your OC is in the modern day, what fantasy class would they be? Would they be a different race?

Phoebe in a fantasy setting is Sky!

8. What hobbies does your OC have? What do they do to unwind?

Sky really likes reading! She reads as many books as she can get her hands on- occasionally books from purple time rifts can fall through the fabric of time and land in the Horizon, and Sky collects those. Entropy has also "borrowed" a couple books from various planets (and probably other dimensions as well). Sky also gardens! She has a fairly extensive garden in her yard and grows a lot of goofy Horizon-native plants.

Phoebe, unfortunately, lives in an apartment and is not allowed to have an extensive garden. However she does have a couple small plants that she can grow inside. She's still a bookworm, and in addition to that, Phoebe will take walks through the local city parks to unwind.

9. How does your OC handle their physical health? Do they take care of themselves?

Sky handles her health fairly well! She has plenty of time to.

Phoebe isn't as good at taking care of herself. She certainly tries, but she's also a tired gal in her early twenties who is living check to check and has school on top of that. Physically, she's not in the best shape, but fortunately for her, her boss is very determined to make sure she takes care of herself, and has forced her to take a day or two of paid sick leave to recover.

10. How does your OC handle their mental health? Do they take care of themselves?

Sky has good mental health! Every now and then the loneliness will get to her or she'll get really frustrated with King and she'll spiral a bit, but she's good at recovering.

Similarly, Phoebe has pretty damn good mental health for being a tired early-twenties gal. She's stressed with school (trade school for culinary arts!) and very much in need of a good night's sleep, but besides that she's doing surprisingly well!

11. What was your inspiration for your OC?

I've said this so many times at this point, but Sky started out as Queen Vanessa and somehow ended up at the complete opposite. I don't think I can say much else on her inspiration due to spoilers, but I really wanted to give the girls specifically an older sister character. Wendy from Gravity Falls helped with characterization.

Phoebe came from taking Sky and placing her in a more modern story. Phoebe herself doesn't have many inspirations, but a lot of her character is just me experimenting with putting Sky in situations :)

12. Does your OC interact with other people's OC? If so, who's their best OC friend?

YES!!! YES SHE DOES!!!!!! SKY'S GIRLFRIEND IS THE BEST WOMAN IN THE ENTIRE WORLD AND HER NAME IS JAIDE AND SHE BELONGS TO @artblock-tm AND I LOVE THE TWO OF THEM SO SO SO MUCH!!!!!!!!!!!! THEY ARE EVERYTHING TO ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Of course, there's the entire Skaide Found Family, along with the cast of RP6, including @/therealnoot's wonderful motherfucker Jinx.

I have restrained myself from having Phoebe interact with other OCs because that is a very slippery slope into spoiler territory, but I do have a list of OCs I want her to interact with once spoilers are no longer an issue! Such as. The entire Skaide found family.

13. Does your OC have a rival? How did it start?

Oh boy guys does Sky have any rivals? Guys I'm not sure. I can't think of anyone guys

Sky has King Moonjumper! And it started with him being a self-absorbed asshole! Which... isn't really true but it definitely is KMJ's fault. They fight because King wants out of the Horizon and Sky's trying to stop him from doing that because it will fuck up the time-space continuum or something like that.

Phoebe doesn't really have any specific rival, but she does have her narrative foil (And later main antagonist), Angelo! They get along for a while and then things go rough and they fight to the death. Typical girl things you know

14. Who's a character your OC cannot stand! It's on sight when they see them!

Once again, King Moonjumper! Bitch.

As for Phoebe. TRISTEN FUCKING KANNAROE. OHOHO THIS MOTHERFUCKER. Not only is it on sight for Phoebe but it is on sight for me as well. And also most of the rest of the cast. It's a fucking tragedy that Phoebe isn't the one who kills him because she deserves it.

15. Will your OC ever retire? Do you see them making it?

This one is a bit too close to spoilers, so I'll be skipping it. Sorry.

16. How's their relationship with their parents? Are they alive?

Sky... doesn't really have parents! She has Uncle Entropy, but that's it.

Phoebe has a good relationship with her parents! They don't talk too much because Phoebe is busy with work and trade school, but she tries to keep in touch.

17. If your OC has kids, are they a good parent? Do they ever feel guilty if they have to leave them?

Skipping this one because Sky/Phoebe doesn't have kids and never will! Older sibling figure ftw :))))

18. What are their pronouns? What would they like to be called?

Both use she/her! Sky is genderqueer, and Phoebe is probably also genderqueer but too busy to question her gender identity.

19. What's their sexuality? What's their love language both giving and receiving?

Asexual panromantic for both!

20. If they fight, what's their weapon of choice?

Sky has, of course, her kickass chained blades! Combined with her crystal magic, Sky is a very good fighter :)

Phoebe doesn't have weapons for a majority of the story. She has a super plot-relevant pocket knife that Angelo gives her early on, and she does wield Tachycardia (aka TickTach) once, but it's not until just before the climax of the story that Phoebe receives her signature chained blades.

21. What song best describes their relationship with their enemy?

One of the songs I mentioned in question 3, You Only Know, is both a Sky and King Moonjumper song! Even though it doesn't really describe their relationship. It just fits both of them.

Once again, I was cursed with not relating very many songs to Sky. And I can't even begin to talk about Phoebe's various antagonists throughout the story, but please revisit question 4 for some of the songs.

22. Fight or Flight? Are they a lover or a fighter?

Fight! Sky and Phoebe are both super kind people, but they're also stubborn and willing to fight for what they believe!

23. Is your OC reliable? Can I call them up at two in the morning if I have a flat tire?

Absolutely. Sky would be over in a heartbeat with a spare tire and help you replace it. Phoebe would be pissed you woke her up, and probably wouldn't drive out to wherever you are, but she would tell you who to call instead or give you instructions on how to fix it. Sky's a bit more reliable because she's less tired, but both are super trustworthy.

24. Can they play any instruments? If so, what do they play?

Although Phoebe and Sky do not play an instrument, if they were to, it would be clarinet. That would also be the instrument that Sky's main music motif is in!

25. Are they the kind of person who can't resist a good song? Can I catch your OC singing to themselves while they do the dishes?

ABSOLUTELY. Both Sky and Phoebe would love listening to music while doing chores. Heck, Phoebe already does that.

26. What flower do you associate your OC with?

Fictional-ass flowers. The Horizon has goofy flowers that Entropy has spread to literally every piece of media they touch, and Sky/Phoebe is one of three characters associated with these specific flowers- and yes, they do serve some mild narrative importance. Entropy and Tranquility are the other two.

27. What's their spirit tamagotchi? Or an animal you associate them with?

CATS! Sky and Phoebe both have a cat!! There's, of course, the iconic bushcat Ru, but Phoebe has befriended a stray cat who she's nicknamed Rue!!

28. What clique would they be in? (Draw them in the clothes of said group!)

Not drawing this because I am tiiiiired

Sky would not be very cliquey! She tries to be friends with everyone :)

Phoebe would also not like to be in any cliques, but she naturally gravitates to the smart kids.

29. Imagine a mood board for your OC! What's on it? (Make it if you want!)

I will get back to this one I promise. I will do this. Not now though because I want to be done with this.

30. My OC and your OC are friends. This isn't a question. I'm not asking. (How do they respond?)

JOKES ON YOU, SKY IS ALREADY FRIENDS WITH YOUR OCS!!!!

Phoebe would also be friends with your OCs!! Despite the different circumstances, they are the same person at their core, so she would love meeting Ameya and the rest of your OCs :)

[kitkatopinions]

How would you rewrite cardin?

(I know from past post he is not your favorite but I didn’t want this question to be negative)

He did stop bullying and was protecting the kingdom.

I mean if emerald can be redeemed so can Cardin right?

There is a subtle difference between Emerald and Cardin, and it's that Cardin is an in-universe racist white man. Imo he's more comparable to Roman than to Emerald (Roman makes several anti-Faunus comments iirc directed at White Fang members as well as calling Blake 'kitty.') But with that being said, there are very few characters even villains that I think can't be redeemed (and I like redeeming Roman,) and Cardin definitely could be with the right writer who is making sure to be sensitive.

In the show, there's no reason to believe he's actually changed in my opinion, just that 'Jaune earned his respect' (a mentality cloaked in misogyny) and so he backed off of Jaune's team. Although we don't see him much after that, we also therefore don't see if he is actually no longer bullying people, we just know that he's no longer bullying Jaune. And we don't know that he hasn't been anti-faunus after taht, especially because no one stood up for Velvet before. Although other people see it differently, I personally think that Cardin fighting for Beacon while it indicates that he's brave, doesn't automatically mean anything good outside of that. He's essentially a racist giving strong misogyny vibes who has already proven he's willing to blackmail people he thinks are weak and target minorities, he just also wants to be a good badge carrying law enforcement officer. I personally wouldn't give him a redemption arc because although I think that everyone can be redeemed, there are characters who can also instead be used to acknowledge horrible people who want to be in positions of power who never take the chance to get better. For me, Cardin would fit into that category along with Jacques, Salem, and probably Watts, Tyrian, Hazel, Lionheart, Raven, and Cinder (with a different backstory,) and Junior if I was using him. In my own works, I would have Cardin possibly be kicked out of Beacon actually to demonstrate that they don't accept people like him in their profession (because I want to distance Hunters from the irl police comparisons,) and I might have Cardin turn to a life of crime instead (maybe under Junior since I can't see him respecting women enough to join Salem or Raven tbh.) I would redeem a lot of other people from less fortunate circumstances than him, and he would be a contrasting example of how entitled privileged cruel children can grow into being the evil violent villains when they don't check themselves.

However, just because that's what I would do doesn't mean that's what everyone should do, and Cardin is a fair character to want to redeem. So trying to imagine how I would do it if I did decide to give Cardin an actual redemption, here's what I personally would do.

Have his position at Beacon threatened or legit taken away from him, maybe even have him be put on probation for a crime or something. That puts him in a position where he has to act better even if he isn't actually better yet because he's being watched and what he wants is being threatened. An Eleanor Shellstrop style redemption where he starts out 'being good' because he has to in order to save himself and he can still be very selfish, but in the process of trying to save himself he's forced to challenge his ideals and realize some of his mistakes. Then he can start slowly trying to be a better person, realizing just how wrong he was, working to deconstruct his horrible ideals and being ashamed of his past behaviors but never making excuses or making that about him. I'd have the Fall of Beacon happen while he's still very terrible but already starting his growth, having him move to Vacuo or Atlas with other Vale students and now dealing with trauma and losing teammates, he'd try to 'start new' in the new school. But still being kind of terrible, he'd get reality checks, he'd realize that his behavior makes him alone and start making an effort to be better. And then when Team RWBY eventually arrives wherever he is, he'd still be snarky and insensitive and have the occasional cruel moment, but they'd be surprised to see the change, but Blake would still be like "yeah I have no interest in talking to Cardin" and they'd be like "absolutely, that is so valid." He could then start making some friends now that he was getting a lot better and not being a jerk, and help in the fight against Salem as a side character.

That's how I'd do it, anyway. Also I would switch out his ugly looking stupid garbage armor and bad haircut after he starts getting better. Cardin is.... On the list of Rwby characters I truly hate, but he could be done better, it just would take some work, and it isn't really what I personally would go with or enjoy.

[alyjojo]

Career Check-In 👨🏼‍🚒 - August 2024 - Sagittarius

How things stand currently: 5 Pentacles

The problem: 6 Wands rev

Advice: 5 Swords rev

Right off the bat I have a story where your boss is sick and you’re having to fill in the role…without the title or the respect. It’s like you’re getting a wake-up call to the people around you and all of their issues, where the problem child lies, because you feel locked out or like you’re not being recognized as the authority you are. Forced to be? I do see your intentions being good, I’m hearing you’re “just doing your job.”

With Mars being shown in the 12th, probably the least comfortable place for Mars to be, along with Illness, some of you are going to be spending some time away from work entirely. Calling off sick, actually sick, or maybe just tapped out energetically - not everyone. Most of you are dealing with difficult people who refuse to cooperate with you, especially if you’re in a leadership role - you will feel tested. Mars 12th would show others not seeing your leadership, there’s no real action being taken, this is more like perceiving & taking notes (Aquarius) than actually doing anything about a problem. You’re studying people, why they don’t recognize you in a celebratory way. If you’re asked to lead something I don’t think you’re getting the help you need from others. Advice is shown as a needed apology, either from others to you or you to some boss for not being able to show up, make it, can’t control other people, Brian didn’t do his part but here’s the rest - that type of thing. Like you can’t apologize for other’s roles but in owning your own it’s like you shed light on others…that’s the vibe. On some level you’re either seeing how your own action/inaction plays a role in a problem - or you can see this in someone else and point it out, because it’s been unseen. Harmony and Compromise show the goal being to work with others, it’s heavily them & not you. In many cases you feel like the designated leader, whether you signed up for that or not, and no one is even paying attention or cares (that’s the problem). There could be an “event” of like…someone at work doing something stupid due to socializing and fking around basically - money could be lost, something could be broken, and an apology is called for. Could be you.

Oracles:

Illness 🤒

Disease - Weakness - Fragility

Justice ⚖️

Equality - Neutrality - Logic

Profession 👨‍🍳

Expertise - Omniscience - Talent

Harmony’s Call 🕊️

Embrace equality and pursue justice. Keep an open mind as answers unveil your path to balance.

Tide of Transition 🌊

Embrace the tides of change with openness, allowing the ebb and flow of life to guide your transformation into love and work.

MARS 💥 - AQUARIUS 🧐 - 12TH HOUSE 🤫

- The drive for genius to experiment with your faith.

- The confronting of the discoveries of hidden tendencies.

- Action resulting from the eccentricity of large institutions or overwhelming events.

[soul-dwelling]

Do you think the soul eater animes direction was misguided, one can say that it tried to match the shojo vibes but it seemed it made it too sanatised instead

I’m confused: what shojo vibes?

My remarks below unfortunately are going to be pretty reductive, given how shonen and shojo are demographics rather than strictly styles, so please bear with me for how offensive I’m going to be about gender stuff. 

Do you mean how the Soul Eater NOT anime tried to design the characters and overall aesthetic to be moe rather than sticking closer to the early Soul Eater manga or the first anime? 

I don’t think the animation direction of the first anime was misguided. I mean, as I said earlier, I think the original content that diverged from the manga was misguided, in terms of writing and plotting. But even that anime-original content was well animated: the last Mifune fight, Maka trying to resonate with Soul, the final battle with Asura. And most of the jokes still landed (Angela kicking Black Star in the crotch). 

I’m not sure I thought much about a shojo vibe to the first anime. I mean, sure, it’s the same studio and director as Ouran and Bungo Stray Dogs, so I would seeing that in Soul Eater. 

Maybe the action-y parts stood out to me more--but that would act as if shojo is lacking in action, which, nah, we’re talking shojo, there’s plenty of action in those stories, and we’re talking about an anime with Maka Freaking Albarn as the protagonist. 

So, going with the most reductive list of what makes something typical shojo: in the first anime, we don’t have the lighter outlines, we don’t have sparse backgrounds, we don’t have minimal shading, the eyes are so narrow on some characters. The colors are bright but not quite what I associate with shojo--more so cartoonish and garish to suit the gothic aesthetic. We are dealing with high school life, but romance is largely off the table. (Maybe the “Soul and Black Star professing their love for each other” was so over the top that, even though it came from the manga, that felt like the anime setting down a tone that this wasn’t going to be a typical shojo series…all the more ironic, I guess, when we got to NOT.)

And speaking of NOT: oh, yeah, NOT basically checked off everything in that previous paragraph for what makes something into typical shojo: lighter outlines, bigger eyes, pastel  colors, high school romance shenanigans. 

Even if I could call either anime sanitized, they weren’t really? At least, not in terms of violence. Even when NOT pulled back a lot, we still had Kim’s dog injured, Shaula’s attacks, Sid dying. And the first episode of the first anime was pretty graphic in Jack the Ripper’s attacks and how vicious Maka could be attacking Soul. 

Now, if we’re talking the manga’s look (and I’ll get to that question in a moment), I do think Ohkubo pulled back a lot over time to soften the look of characters. Sure, the initial Soul Eater chapters, coming off of B Ichi, were round, but in a cartoonish way. By the time if Baba Yaga Castle, the manga felt a bit more shojo, softer outlines especially in some of Maka’s scenes at the end of Chapter 113--which suits the tone there, granted. Then that carries over to Fire Force…until we do that drastic change in that last arc to bring things back to Soul Eater (even if that makes sense logically and thematically, jeez, what an annoying transition). 

So, TL; DR: I didn’t think any of the anime were shojo or sanitized, so maybe I’m misunderstanding. As for misguided, yeah, I think NOT should have stuck with the first anime look, for ease of bringing people into the new story, even if that meant not being as moe as the original manga.

[fiadorable]

67 Great Things in Serene Squall

Strange New Worlds season one episode seven... we're starting a mutiny 🏴‍☠️

Strange New Worlds | Children of the Comet | Ghosts of Illyria Part 1 & Part 2 | Memento Mori | Spock Amok | Lift Us Where Suffering Cannot Reach | Serene Squall

T'Pring gets the opening monologue!

Long distance relationships are hard - I like the ritual of Spock and T'Pring both sitting down with a PADD and a glass of wine to try to bridge the distance

Spock narrowly avoiding a spit take as T'Pring drops "I have been doing research on human sex" right out of the gate

T'Pring rightly does some research on human culture to better understand her boyfriend, but seems to skip the part where she confirms that Spock is ready to embrace or even acknowledge that part of himself

Spock being distracted while walking with Chapel is delightful

Chapel helping a friend out with his relationship trouble

"Spock, are you telling me your girlfriend is moving too fast for you?"

"Don't try to be smarter than the truth"

"Also - pro tip: Pay better attention to me when I'm talking because…" "You are very charming and I am completely missing it?"

Dr. Aspen/Captain Angel's character is so cool, they are a treat to watch laying the groundwork for the takeover as early as this dinner (calling Pike a boy scout to prompt him to take risks later on in the episode)

Pike is 100% Starfleet's boy scout, in the best sense

Looks like Pike made lasagna for dinner, but La'An interrupts with the announcement they've arrived before they can eat

Bridge troubleshooting!

Finally! Someone in Trek who listens to music that sounds like it was made later than the 1960s. It's the antagonist, but it's a start.

"Interesting. He hasn't snipped his emotions yet."

Pike and Ortegas bridge banter I

The sound design for the ship moving through the asteroid field is great - all of the external ship stuff is great in this episode. I feel like I have a real sense of how the ship is moving in relation to its surroundings.

Asteroid laser trap!

Camera shot from behind Pike so we see what he sees on the bridge - I like it

Kaboom!

The laser net is a great first test for Spock - if he fails, then I'm betting the trap would disable the ship and then the Serene Squall would swoop in and attempt to take over the Enterprise. But if he passes, then not only does Enterprise get to continue on and reach the point where the crew is separated, but Spock is now off kilter from being forced to use his "gut". Either way is a win for Angel, although I'm betting they were hoping Spock would be able to solve the puzzle so they could fuck with him some more

Visible sigh of relief from Number One and Ortegas as the puzzle deactivates

Angel's little crab-legged ship is cute

Spock and Angel's "maybe you're neither" nonbinary discussion

Pike and Ortegas bridge banter II

In the future people will be accepting enough of other people's fashion choices that they will deliberately ignore the increasingly villainous vibes from a self-professed humanitarian aid worker's wardrobe as they approach their destination

Headcanon: Pike had Una and La'An do rock paper scissors to see who was going to be on the away mission with him

And as Pike beams away with the chief of security, there's Angel's first check, but not mate

Very clean takeover of the ship all things considered

Spock is a beast in hand to hand combat, dang

Everything about Remy the pirate is a win as are Pike's very reasonable, non-threatening-yet-not-impressed facial expressions

Number One death glaring at Spock from down the hallway as they march her to the transporter room 😂😂

The entire interrogation scene from "Handsome and witty. Aren't you a charmer" to "What's wrong with my cooking?"

Chapel is wearing the perfect white jumpsuit to be camouflaged on this empty white ship

I know those are Jess Bush's actual tattoos on her wrists and hands, but I would love to see an in universe explanation for them, it's an interesting character beat

Action!Chapel and her Hypospray of Doom

Pike butters up Remy like he's a dinner roll at Golden Corral while dishing out chili (?) to a pirate crew - it's a nice parallel because he's using the same tactics as Angel

Never ever put the senior staff together in a holding cell, come on, guys

"More good news: I convinced these guys to sell us to the Klingons."

Bahahaha Number One is suspicious (and rightfully so) and Ortegas is convinced Pike's lost his mind

The idea that Pike and Number One regularly start mutinies on away missions gone wrong is amazing and I need fic, please

Chapel trying her damnedest to get that SOS out to Starfleet

Chapel is the fault in Angel's plan - she's the worst person who could be left on the ship with Spock

Once Captain Angel reveals themself, their sarcasm gives me life

Great twist that they don't need any information from Spock, they just need Spock himself as bait

Gasp STONN???

T'Pring immediately starts out with "Who are you", no hi hello nothing, just who are you and why are you calling me

Sarcastic death threats have never been sexier

Angel's look of incredulous disgust as Spock insists that Vulcans aren't swayed by emotion 😂😂😂

Angel being pissed that Chapel is on the stupid ship in the first place, ruining their little back and forths with Spock

"Love is the only thing that makes the cold loneliness of space bearable"

Setting the mutiny in motion 🏴‍☠️

"Now let's get those transporters hot and trade lovers" 😂 what am I watching

"Spock, you are failing to communicate effectively" 😂😂😂😂

"Oh, you guys are fun"

Angel's plan going completely to pot because one little nurse got missed when they took over the ship

The pirate ship has a goddamn steering wheel

Backdoor codes!

Pike and Ortegas bridge banter III

Chekhov's necklace

"The question isn't what you are. It's who you are"

"Our mutiny is still in progress" as pirates literally climb the walls in the background 😂

Just a normal shift on the bridge, on the way back into Federation space to deliver some pirates to the authorities. Then out of nowhere… "Arrrrgh me mateys!" Your captain affects an old Earth pirate accent and demeanor from behind you. It is hilarious and sudden. The Dad vibes are off the charts. You beg the captain to stop before you burst into giggles on the bridge and ruin the carefully cultivated image of "where fun goes to die". You feel his frown and hear him sit back in his chair, but he desists and ship travels on. Your reputation is intact and the morale is lifted.

T'Pring's unwavering faith in Spock's faithfulness is beautiful and heartbreaking, as is Spock's relieved "of course" as T'Pring confidently says the one thing he's wondering if he's capable of

"So I know for certain there's no feelings between us" uuuuugh the angst… the mutually unrequited feelings (because I do think Spock does feel something for Chapel even if he can't or won't accurately quantify it right now)

With this episode ending on Stonn and T'Pring walking to Sybok's cell together, I wonder if he helped her do the prisoner swap - maybe he was even on the ship with her and we just didn't see… hmmm…

Sybok and Captain Angel had better return in Season 2

[allisonlol]

jouno and tecchou breakup hcs plss🙁.

a/n: ANON ARE U TRYING TO MAKE ME CRY ?? bc ur gonna succeed at that

warnings: toxic behavior, arguing (primarily in jouno's section), breakups, all that angsty stuff 💔

Jouno + Tecchou Breakup HC’s

Jouno

i feel like it takes a very specific person to get along with jouno enough for him to want to pursue a romantic relationship with them

and if, over time, he notices more and more that you're just not a good match for him he won't hesitate to cut ties

if he's the one who ended the relationship, don't expect to hear too much from him afterwards

will basically just...disappear from your life and not bother to reach out to you again

however, if you were the one to end the relationship for whatever reason...

he is honestly the worst in this situation

becomes incredibly petty and cynical towards you

it's absolute hell if the two of you have the same profession & are forced to work together

goes out of his way to either avoid you at all costs, or belittle you and drop degrading comments whenever it's impossible to do the former

this is, obviously, extremely upsetting on top of the usual stress that your job already provides

don't bother confronting him about this because it'll be a pretty one sided argument...he'll barely acknowledge you and will laugh at how emotional you get

i hate to say this about my fav but...he becomes very toxic

even though, in this instance, you were the one who broke up with him, you wind up feeling more hurt because of how cold and uncaring he acts

you could get injured on the job and be near death, and he purposefully wouldn't be the one to rescue you or even bother to check up afterwards

however, you do notice that he'll seem incredibly more serious and uptight for awhile after this occurs

eventually jouno's rude remarks will become few and far between until they stop completely, and he regards you as practically a stranger

won't acknowledge you at all, and will simply brush past you at work without a single hint that he even remembers you

Tecchou

this is gonna make me so sad omg

but here we go

a breakup with tecchou would 100% be one that's a mutual agreement between the two of you

i just...can't see him being able to leave you unless he knew that's what you wanted as well

which is incredibly selfless and shows that he does truly care about you and would never want to make you upset

handles the whole situation very maturely

and honestly? that makes it all the more sad because the both of you were great together and always dealt with things well

definitely the type to stay in contact afterwards and check up on you every now and then

he'll even swing by your place sometimes to drop off food from your favorite restaurant that he "just so happened" to stop by

you see right through him but neither of you comment on it

you're able to maintain a pretty amicable friendship with tecchou beyond this point

which can either be a positive or a negative thing...your choice

the two of you are always assigned together at work, and while it's a bit tense and awkward at first, it's easy for both of you to fall back into rhythm again

he'll never stop looking out for you tbh. just because you guys aren't in a romantic relationship anymore doesn't mean he's going to risk you getting hurt

^am i throwing shade at jouno here? yea

tecchou has to remind himself to distance from you a bit since sometimes, he'll genuinely forget that the two of you had even broken up

definitely is still fond of you platonically

giving off very much "right person, wrong time" vibes

a/n: i made jouno sound so horrible LMAO 💀 this was such a sad req but i hope u still enjoyed !

[emjee]

MG has read...a lot of TOG fanfic this autumn: a rec list

Hey y’all, @morallygreywaren asked if I’ve done a fic rec list yet, and I think I’ve done bits and pieces but not a full list. Fortunately, I just put one together for a friend who watched the film for the first time on Sunday, so I’ve got something close at hand! I’m keeping the category divisions I used for my friend, because I like them. I’m gonna star the E rated stuff for your avoidance/exact opposite of avoidance needs. Off we go!

Joe and Nicky (historical)

Ars Poetica by superblackmarket. Actually read everything by superblackmarket, they’re amazing. (*)

The Other Matter by survivah. Sometimes I lie awake at night staring at the ceiling thinking about this fic. If you like your Joe/Nicky get-together stories with a tall glass of pining/idiots to lovers, run don’t walk.

Salt and Harvest by @hollybennett123. Joe and Nicky + bread through the ages. Literally what more could you want.

for all hearts torn by stonecarved (figure8) (@lgbtmazight on tumblr). Joe and Nicky + pilgrimage. Len is one of the greatest gifts this fandom has.

The Gold of Your Body by @azephirin. This contains the tag “Catholicism as a gateway drug to BDSM” and it is. Incredible. (*)

The Subtle Approach by survivah. The great thing about this fandom is that your Regency AU doesn’t actually need to be an AU.

The Profession of my Fingers by mellyflori (@werebearbearbar on tumblr). 5+1, Nicky’s Hands In Joe’s Curls Throughout The Centuries (*)

Joe and Nicky (modern)

My heart as green as weeds by KatStratford (@katrinastratford on tumblr). In which they have to peace out to Scandinavia for Lying Low purposes and Joe Does Not Vibe with how cold it is. It’s a huge quarantine mood. (*)

While we’re young by hyb (@h-yb on tumblr). *pinches bridge of nose* listen they are IN LOVE

Stop, listen, feel, believe by Tam_Cranver. This is my favorite fic set almost immediately post-film. Hot as hell. Emotional intelligence off the FUCKING charts. (*)

Joe and Nicky + Nile + being immortal family

Three Immortals and a Puppy Walk Into a Bar by survivah. What it says on the tin, a fucking delight

A nice story and The art of remembrance by @sixth-light. Joe, Nicky, Nile, and discussions of war crimes.

Straight up Joe/Nicky smut, you are WELCOME (these are all E)

Taking instruction by @sixth-light. feat. light dom/sub, in a really sweet way.

Literally everything @bakedapplesauce has ever written, special shoutouts to:

The present is nothing but an interruption of the past 

Hora somni

There is no “I” in “team” (but there is one in “vibrator”) 

You want some Joe/Nicky AUs? I got you

Explaining is Losing by @sixth-light. Academic nemeses to lovers. I have read this fic an EMBARASSING number of times.

Good Enough to be True by @sixth-light. Modern AU, super soft fluff/healing where Joe’s gotten out of a terrible relationship and Nicky’s the first guy he’s dated since

sine qua non by mellyflori (@werebearbearbar). Modern AU friends to lovers with all the trimmings. (*)

Extremely niche genre of Nicky Bitches About The New English Mass Translation:

third for a word and the song keeps going by Macremae

INAIED gets its own heading

If Never Again, If Every Day by @gallifreyburning and @takiki16 is the light of my Thursdays. 2021 Nicky ends up back in 1099, 1099 Nicolo ends up in 2021, we all lose our minds over the emotions that ensue. Someone once described the 1099 plot of this fic as “Yusuf: I truly hate this and I’m annoyed that killing you doesn’t work. Nicky: You want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid.” I think about that description every fucking day.

Book of Nile (I know one of the rules of this ship is that you have to say you hate it here and were forced to ship it against your will but LISTEN these fics are so good that I can’t bring myself to hate it here at all)

The Last Man on Earth by survivah. Five times Booker and Nile find themselves in a romance novel trope. Delicious.

son rêve d’opaline by stonecarved (figure8) (@lgbtmazight​). Sleepy. Sexy. I’m obsessed. (*)

everywhere on earth you go (you’re gonna have me)  by nondz (pinkjook). There is a swing dancing scene in this one that I lost my fucking mind over. (*)

This is by no means comprehensive, and I encourage you to check out all the fics of all the authors mentioned here. I’m having a great time reading in this fandom.

[fruitcoops]

Hi, I love your blog so much! I recently got ankle lateral ligament reconstruction done, and as an athlete, it sucks so bad. I watched my basketball team play yesterday, and it felt really horrible to watch them lose by one point in overtime when I know I would have made a difference if I were on the court... I know you have lots of asks and prompts, but if you have the time and want to, could you possibly hurt me more than I’m already hurting with some angsty ankle injury stuff😩 like maybe Cap watching the Lions lose without him.

Thank you for all the awesome fics you write! Your blog is amazing!

Anon, this ask really struck a chord with me and I wanted to do it justice as best I could--going through a sports injury like that is the worst feeling in the world, and watching your teammates play without you just adds salt to the wound. Sending all the love and healing vibes your way, okay? Please keep me updated on how you're feeling if you feel comfortable <3

Combined with an ask for pre-Coops and Sirius' photo of Remus! SW credit goes to @lumosinlove

TW for canonical injury and mentioned scars (Remus)

Sirius felt a nudge at his arm and his irritation flared, but he did not take his eyes off the game. “Fucking hell,” he muttered as James missed yet another blatant pass. There’s three.

The next nudge was more insistent.

“What?” he snapped, sparing half a glance to his left and feeling his stomach swoop.

Remus raised his eyebrows and held the mouthguard out further. “Either put this in or unclench your jaw.”

You’re not my mother, Sirius almost snarked back, just to be even more of an asshole. He was cold from being at the rink without his gear, severely pissed off by the general bullshit happening on the ice, and the itch in the boot locked around his stupid fucked-up ankle was slowly driving him mad.

Remus offered the mouthguard again, and Sirius’ temper cooled by a few degrees at the soft encouragement on his face. Pretty, his brain supplied. He swallowed hard around his sudden dry mouth and shoved the plastic between his teeth, beating back the unruly emotions with a mental baseball bat. Nope. Not tonight. Focus on being angry.

Logan got distracted, and Finn paid the price as an enforcer slammed him against the boards; he bounced back immediately, but Sirius ground the mouthguard so hard it squeaked. “Tabarnak—”

“Come with me for a sec,” Remus said, raising his voice just enough to be heard over the angry shouts of Lions fans.

Sirius shook his head. What he wouldn’t give to be in the heart of the fight, letting off some of the steam that had been building with no outlet for weeks. “Game’s not over.”

Remus pressed his lips together, but said nothing; Sirius’ throat constricted as he looked at the scoreboard. There may have been three full minutes left on the clock, but the Lions had already lost—unless they pulled a miracle out of their asses, this game would be a stain on their record. Or if they just let me play.

Sirius sighed through his nose. The urge had been growing stronger the longer he stayed cooped up and restless, banging at the walls of his brain and bringing headache after headache.

“Cap.” The hand on the back of his bicep was surprisingly gentle and he closed his eyes as Remus gave him a light tug. “Come on. We can at least be productive instead of sitting here and stewing.”

He smells nice. How does he always smell so nice? Sirius stood and followed Remus down the tunnel, not even bothering to force smiles for the people pounding on the glass partitions. Don’t focus on the game.

Focus on his shoulders, something close to his heart suggested. You like his shoulders.

He scrunched his nose up at the thought—if he dwelled on the smooth, strong curve of Remus’ upper back for any longer, he would start remembering the one time he saw them bare, covered in sweat with scars that shone like moonlight and—

“Are you okay?” Remus asked, snapping him back to reality. Sirius jumped and concern flickered over the golden planes of his face. “You’re twitchy tonight.”

“Just…” He made a vague, aborted motion toward the ice before continuing toward the PT room, though he did not miss the worried look Remus shot him. Fantastic, now I look like a dick and an idiot.

“What’s going on, Sirius?” The door clicked closed behind them and Remus leaned against it with his arms crossed loosely as Sirius limped over to the table and sat down, pulling the mouthguard out. He stared at the floor and the hunk of plastic—don’t think about how nice his voice sounds around your name. Don’t.

He shook his head; through the door, the sounds of the game were faint. “They’re better than this.”

“Yep.”

“They’re all going to be angry tomorrow, which makes them sloppy.”

“Probably.”

“Coach will be upset.”

“No question.”

“It’s the Badgers.”

Remus made a face. “I know, right?”

“They’re a good team, but—” He tightened his jaw again and looked away.

“But we’re better,” Remus finished for him.

“Yeah.” Silence fell between them for a few moments, though it wasn’t uncomfortable. Being quiet around Remus was never uncomfortable, and Sirius was pathetically grateful for every scrap of it he could get. “I—the game would be different if I was out there.”

“Would it?”

“It would.” He had been going over every mistake for two and a half hours, placing himself in like a chess piece to stop the missed passes, fumbled pucks, and thoughtless plays. “They need me with them.”

The paper crinkled as Remus sat down next to him, and every one of Sirius’ senses went on high alert. “They need to you get better,” he said simply, those caramel-apple eyes making Sirius’ knees go weak. “Have you been doing your exercises?”

“Of course,” he scoffed.

“Good.” There was no defensiveness or indignation in Remus’ voice—guilt snapped, a firecracker behind his teeth.

“Sorry.”

Remus smiled wryly. “When you’re around injured hockey players all day long, you get used to a little bit of bitchiness.”

“I’m not bitchy!” Sirius spluttered. The poorly-concealed amusement on Remus’ face made mortification heat his cheeks. “I’m not!”

“Uh-huh.” The note of smug disbelief should not have been as attractive as it was. “Alright, lay down.”

Sirius swore he heard a few crackling noises as his brain short-circuited. “Quoi?”

“I’m not kneeling on freezing linoleum to check out your ankle, Cinderella,” Remus snorted. “Now get a wiggle on.”

“You have the strangest sayings,” he said as he laid back and stretched his leg out, bewildered and yet somehow relieved.

“And you—” Remus pulled the top buckle free. “—have no appreciation for the great American north.”

“I can take it off,” Sirius mumbled, feeling redness rise once again.

He cocked an eyebrow. “The boot? I might not be a muscle-bound athlete, but I’m pretty sure I can manage a couple strips of Velcro.”

“No, it’s—doesn’t touching people’s feet freak you out? Like, the sweat and everything?”

“If it did, I’d have to find another profession, because I’m damp all the time from you fuckers and you all seem to have a habit of breaking things below the knee. Bend.”

Sirius complied, drawing his knee toward his chest. His bare foot looked weird in the bright lights, pale and still swollen, but Remus was as golden as ever. You can watch from afar, he conceded when the cute little furrow appeared on Remus’ forehead while he felt around the bone. Just for a little while. “Your hands are warm,” he said before he could stop himself.

Remus glanced up, and his small smile caused a flood of butterflies in Sirius’ stomach. “Thanks. They’re usually pretty cold, so I’m glad I’m not accidentally giving you foot hypothermia.”

“Is that real?”

“No,” Remus laughed. Sirius wished he could keep that sound forever. “How’s that feel?”

“Uh, fine.” He blinked a couple times to come back to himself as Remus put light pressure on the sole of his foot. “Still fine.”

“You’re a lot more flexible than before. Things are healing well.”

A loud buzzer went off outside—Sirius closed his eyes as disappointment and frustration fired up once more. The crowd wasn’t cheering. The windows weren’t shaking. He didn’t even want to look at the TV to check the score. I should be out there, he thought for the umpteenth time. I’m letting them down.

“I’m sorry,” Remus said quietly as he worked through a few more exercises.

“Not your fault.”

“It’s not yours, either.”

Sirius wanted to believe him. “I’m the captain.”

“And you’re being responsible by doing this with me so you can heal faster.” People rushed past the door outside, but the PT room remained peaceful. Sirius stared at the plain ceiling and wished for a miracle. “They miss you.”

“Y’know, that’s not exactly making me feel better.”

“Sorry.” They lapsed back into silence. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Cool.”

Sirius chewed the inside of his lip for a solid two minutes, following Remus’ simple instructions without looking at him. He should have been out there with them, ankle be damned. It was basically healed anyway; they were just tying up loose ends, and maybe Remus needed to be a little less careful. “Is this really necessary?”

“I’m gonna give you five seconds to ask a different question.”

“I’m just saying, it feels fine and—”

“Time’s up.” Remus let go of his foot and Sirius only spared a moment to mourn the loss of his comforting touch before he caught the stormy, mulish stubbornness that took the place of Remus’ concentration. “Sit.”

“I am.”

He narrowed his eyes, and Sirius dragged himself upright with a huff. Arguing with Remus Lupin was about as useful as arguing with a brick wall, and that was coming from someone who won the ‘Most Stubborn’ superlative at their last end-of-year party. “First of all, ankles are annoying and the soft tissue will still be damaged even if the bone is healed. Second, it’s my job to fix you up so your boys stop whining to me about healing you faster. And third, I’m not giving up on you.”

Sirius paused for a long moment. “What?”

“I’m not giving up,” Remus repeated. His jaw set and he made direct eye contact. “I would love nothing more than to kick Snape in the kneecaps and let you go out there as soon as you can stand on your own, but that’s not what I’m here for. I’m here to make sure you’re ready to kick ass and take names no matter what that little shit was trying to do. So don’t you dare sit there and try to chicken out at the finish line, because I know you want this even more than I do.”

In his chest, Sirius heart was hammering like he had just run five miles. I’m not giving up on you. Sirius had never wanted to kiss him more. “Thank you.”

Remus softened with a slow breath. “We’re in this together, Sirius. You and me.”

“I know.”

“Then let’s get to work. Next time you play the Badgers, make ‘em regret this game.”

--------------------------------

Sirius walked back toward the locker room feeling rather nauseous. The whole team leaked their bad moods into the air—Arthur had barely looked at them before sending them home with a quiet “we’ll talk more tomorrow”, the equivalent of an arrow through Sirius’ heart. I need a pick-me-up, he thought as the rest of the guys trooped out in a melancholy raincloud. He fist-bumped each of them, per tradition, but their responses were weak at best.

Ice cream sounded good. Maybe a milkshake. Oh, who was he kidding, he needed a solid hug and something other than ice to look at. Not for the first time, he contemplated getting a dog, just so the house wouldn’t be empty and dark when he returned.

Laughter rang out ahead and Sirius inhaled sharply, letting the sound roll over him. “I’m not kidding!” Moody chuckled.

“Bullshit,” Remus countered, still snickering. “There is no way—”

“I’ve been around here longer than you’ve been alive, kid.”

“Yes, yes, I know,” Remus groaned, though Sirius could hear the smile in his voice even from around the corner. “You only bring it up every goddamn day.”

“Brat.”

Sirius entered the room just in time to see Remus playfully knock the side of his foot against Moody’s; both were grinning. “Isn’t it past your bedtime, old man?”

Moody nodded to him. “Night, twelve.”

“A demain,” Sirius called, offering a slight smile as his eyes lingered on Remus. He was leaning back against the wall with stick tape in his hands—his hands, which never failed to make Sirius throw caution to the wind—and raised it in farewell. ���See you, Loops. Thanks again.”

“No problem, Cap.”

He grabbed his duffel off the floor and slid his keys, wallet, and phone into his pockets as Moody and Remus resumed their conversation. He wondered how long they usually stuck around, and if they would oppose him staying—he wouldn’t interrupt, but being around people who weren’t going through the five stages of grief already felt nice.

An idea struck as Remus’ laugh raised goosebumps on his arms once again. With a careful glance over his shoulder, he slipped his phone out and snapped a picture before hurrying off toward his car. His breaths were shallow; that was such a creepy move, and surely one of them noticed—

No voices chased him. Nobody gave him strange looks. He waited until he was safely in the front seat of the car before unlocking his phone, and all the air in his lungs left in a rush.

The photo was perfect. It caught the lopsided tilt to Remus’ mouth, his slender-but-strong fingers, his long legs, the scrunch of his nose mid-laugh. Everything Sirius never let himself look at for long. He didn’t have much space left among the collection of paper memories on his dresser, but maybe if he put it in the back where nobody would see it unless they knew where to look…

He turned the car on. Later. He would print it out and deal with the taut rubber-band-ball of feelings later. Until then, he could settle for the imprint of Remus’ warmth taking away the pain in his ankle and the determination on his face as he promised to bring Sirius back from the personal hell he was living in. You and me, he had said, and Sirius wanted nothing more than to believe it.

[the-goth-catte]

LFRP | FFXIV

IC Stuff

• Name: S’iouxsie Sioux

• Nickname: Suze

• Race: Miqo’te, Seeker of the Sun

• Nationality: Sharlayan

• Age: 35

• Profession: Cultural Anthropologist, Archaeologist, Professor, Author

• Relationship: Single, open to finding a partner with good chemistry

• Brief Synopsis: Professor S’iouxsie Sioux, Suze to friends and family, is a well-traveled, highly educated academic professional presently avoiding anything that might lead her to settling down back in Sharlayan and assuming a sedentary life. There is too much of the world left to see and study, too many cultures to experience, too much food to enjoy to go home for good!

She is an ever-curious soul, wanting to learn about the world around her and all of the people within it. Suze does struggle with personal connections, never quite sure when and how to leave her academic inquiries behind and make genuine friendships with others. Despite the limitation, and her struggles to break it, Suze is a pleasant conversationalist with a dry, oft sarcastic sense of humor to go with it.

The OOC Stuff

Hi! I’ve been doing online roleplay for many, many years now so I have quite a bit of experience at it. I prefer writing-focused roleplay over emote heavy, and I can get quite wordy at times. I tend to mirror who I write with, and fit into the flow of what’s going on around me, so I’m flexible from a couple of sentences to multi-para in live play.

I have an atrocious work schedule, and responsibilities outside of it as well, so I tend to only be around late at night in the 10p - 2a cst range. Trying to schedule rp ahead of time can be challenging since my offline life/schedule can fluctuate pretty wildly, so I tend to do a lot better with impromptu play / check-ins / whatever (I.e., “Saw this venue open tonight / Had this idea for something to do / I’m free, you feel like writing today?” ) than rigid scheduling. But I know that doesn’t work for everybody, so I try to be as flexible as I can.

• Themes: Academia, Exploration, Light adventure, Interpersonal/Friendships, Possible romance, Family (would definitely require some discussion on that one!), Slice of life

• Not particularly interested in: Quickly heading for mature rp, always playing a mentor-type role, characters or players under 21

• Long term > short term, but not forced if they don’t vibe

• Contact: Here on Tumblr, Disc = oh my goth#0666

• Can rp in game, on disc, possibly on tumblr (though I’ve never tried it before!)

[avimuses]

Things the D&D Campaign has said (Part 3)

“ And this is why I stick to pizzas. ”

“ ___ sent them over for their broken bones. ”

“ ___ belongs to the gays, now. ”

“ Ah, well, I suppose it’s understandable if it’s for a good cause. ”

“ They say archeology is a rather romantic profession, but really we’d date any old thing. ”

“ That’s terrible. 8/10. ”

“ For the love of all that’s good, do not eat the paint. That’s expensive. ”

“ Well, there goes plan B. ”

“ I want in on that plush pile, dudes. ”

“ I think that’s the bird therapy. ”

“ Stop dabbing at each other and stop him! ”

“ I keep forgetting wanton violence is frowned upon here. ”

“ I have no idea what the context for this is, but I’m glad to see you all so excited! ”

“ This is why we take ___. ”

“ Vibes too rancid, can’t see shit. ”

“ More like Detect Thots, amirite? ”

“ I AM GOING TO MAKE YOU VOMIT PEPPERONI YOU MISERABLE LITTLE CRETIN. ”

“ Listening to the bard as everyone else beats the shit out of a clown boy. ”

“ Homie, at least you didn’t have to see how he dressed. ”

“ THAT’S WHAT I THOUGHT YOU’D SAY, YOU DUMB FUCKING HORSE! ”

“ Help, I’m stuck in a party full of dorks. ”

“ I’m in hell, both literally and metaphorically. ”

“ Imagine knowing your left from your right. ”

“ Is this a meme or are we actually lost? ”

“ Haha! This pitiful fool is no match for my superior intellect! ”

“ Was it lucky? Considering I was doing a T-pose? ”

“ I think there’s a difference between a T-pose and a crucifixion. ”

“ I don’t know why I keep asking when y’all keep giving me answers like this. ”

“ I also ruined some guy’s life today but that’s not important. ”

“ No braincells only break-ins. ”

“ Can the forces of evil just stay dead for like five minutes? ”

“ Not him, he’s a dumbass. ”

“ The only poison is existence itself. ”

“ Kids, could you lighten up a little? ”

“ Update: ___ is eating the chess pieces. ”

“ I regret checking in on you guys, but at the same time I’m not surprised. ”

“ I leave you alone. For a few hours. And this happens. ”

[rouiyan]

OMG OMG WHAT IF A FIRST SLEEP OVER AT SUNGCHAN'S HOME AND THE NEXT MORNING Y/N WAKES UP EARLY AND COOKS BREAKFAST AND HE SURPRISES HER WITH A BACKHUG I--- OSBAKSVKWGSBAHAJSGAJ IMAGINE HIM BEING SO TALL COMPARED TO Y/N MAY I REQUEST THAT MAY I MAY I

i sound so aggressive wth

HAHA omg YES YOU MAY. sweetie, i live for the vibes you give off, chaotic at best. also, please don’t mind me, i thought this rq was so cute--and i made it bsf2l w high school and next door neighbor au, just for funsies. 

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐖. — sungchan x (gender neutral) reader ✧ word count : 1446 ✧ disclaimer : sleeping together, no funny business

the window above your bed is haunted, you’re convinced of that. you can hear, distinctly, the sound of different objects being thrown at it each time, but each time you always seem to turn just a second late, missing the scene and leaving you wondering if you were just crazy. somehow, i didn’t cross your mind that it could be your neighbor until you looked up just in time to see a shoe catapulting at the tempered glass, the sole leaving scuff marks where it hit with a loud thud. 

slightly alarmed, no bewildered, or maybe even in relief, you cross your room hurriedly, shoving the pane upwards before another thing collides with it. the sky is a mix of light and dark, too late for the sun yet too early for the moon, but even then, you can still see sungchan’s figure shrouded on all sides by a soft dimness. 

“what do you want?” you hiss at him. sungchan is perched on the edge of your sidewalk, the window above your bed facing the street, and also directly opposite of his own bedroom window across the street. “sleepover,” is all he hisses back. you arch an eyebrow at him but he doesn’t respond. remembering that it would be impossible for him to see your expression, the light crowding from your room behind you casting shadows across your face. you voice, “what about your parents?”

“they went to grams for the weekend, left me here all alone, can you believe that?” chuckling you swung your hips so that you’re positioned sideways on the windowsill, one leg hanging out. “okay...,” you drawl on, trying to imagine how this would pan out, “and what about my parents?”

you almost, almost can see the boy roll his eyes. the whole block knew your parents really could care less about you, not that they didn’t care about you, just that they trusted you enough to know that you wouldn’t be sneaking out of the house at night. totally not a coincidence that that’s the whole reason why you do sneak out of the house at night.

before you know it, you’re on the couch in his living room, the volume of the movie that’s playing is turned all the way up, and the only source of light in the room is from that very screen. you’re focused on the movie, that’s as far as you know, but you also know that jung sungchan has been sneaking glances at you every other minute. you wonder why.

the movie dies down at around 2:30 in the morning, or at least that’s the last time you checked the clock before falling asleep. you wake up a good thirty minutes later though, tucked on your side into the left of sungchan’s bed. now you’re wondering if the boy will be on the other side if you turn around. he is.

sungchan hasn’t gone to sleep yet, but would rather stay up mindlessly browsing through his phone on a school night- no, morning. he feels the sheets ruffle beside him and he’s met with your half-lidded eyes, scrunched nose, and eyebrows knit in utter confusion. “how did i get here?”

ruffling your hair, sungchan is quick to reply, “i dragged you, dummy.” your cheeks flush at his actions though the low lights are there to hide them in your aid. the ambience dips into silence as sungchan retires his eyes from his phone, placing it on the nightstand. he turns off the light there as well, the walls of his room succumbing to an endless black. 

it only takes a few minutes for your thoughts to dwindle down into the depths of contemplation. the things that have been weighing on your mind being nudged out into open air by the comfort and shield of dusk. “do you ever think of what will happen to us?”

you note that he is still awake after all when he rejoins, “what do you mean?” turning your whole body to face him instead of just your head, you clarify, “like in the long run, after we graduate, do you think we’ll still be...?”

he completes your thoughts, sort of at least, “friends?”

“yeah..., “ you trail off at the prospect of, “friends.”

you’re not sure if your spirits are elated or dismayed when he says, “i don’t think much will change, we’ve always been this way.” we’ve always been just friends, is all you hear. the discouragement is strong in your undertone, “even if i move far away?” but it’s alright, you suppose, you weren’t expecting much anyways.

“even if you move far far away.”

there is something unspoken about that night, from the way the two of you share a bed for the first time to the way neither of you dare fall asleep when the tension in the air is so unmistakably clear. it’s as if the chirps of crickets, far off in the distance, are telling you to make your feelings clear, for not ten minutes later you profess a portion of your desires, although a rather short-lived one. “would you mind it if we cuddled?”

“sure.” his voice is very much still bright, in the ways that suggest that he’s nowhere near sleep. playful he adds, “why? scared of the dark?” and while you’re chuckling along lightly with him, you’re also failing to come up with a reason that doesn’t disclose your specific sentiments towards the boy. “no, i just...”

you think that he’s about to just let the whole proposition dissipate into the night, seeing as he hasn’t uttered a word in the last two minutes. but it’s just then when you hear him say, “come here.”

his side of the bed is warm, you wonder why yours wasn’t. his side of the bed feels like home, you wonder why the other side of the same bed didn’t. undoubtedly, you know that it’s all because of him. sungchan makes all the difference in the universe when put in your perspective. the atmosphere of a room with or without him contrasts like summer and winter. a gift given to you by him in comparison to that of another is like a talisman sent by the heavens in comparison to a pair of socks. his eyes on you versus the eyes of anyone else feels like a compliment from god versus a mindless felicitation from a stranger. if you are to break it down in just five words, all you can say is, jung sungchan is your world. or you could say, “sungchan, do you like me?”

blame it in his embrace, the tenderest of all, that surrounds you in thoughts that revolve solely around him. blame it on the light, or rather, the absence of light that gave you all the courage you’ve ever needed to say those five words, in that order. blame it on the tension, the feeling that voicing aloud the questions lodged in the back of your throat would make it easier on the both of you. blame it on the way you knew, in the depths of your mind, exactly what he would say in response to those questions. and maybe the moon had whispered it in your ear because the little murmur he gives confirms all your trembling hopes and dreams, “...yeah,” you feel the gulp of his throat on the crown of your head, “i do.”

nothing, i tell you, nothing is easier in the world than to say, “i like you too.”

you wake up the next morning, sore in the neck but joyous in the heart. also very careful to slip from under the arm that’s draped across you so that you could get on with the little surprise you had in mind. making pancakes is second nature to you, but you’re upset at the fact that there seems to be no maple syrup in his kitchen. you’re on the tips of your toes, trying to clasp at the handles of the two cabinets above the fridge when, without warning, you feel a pair of arms slide around your waist. subsiding from your attempts, you relent onto your heels, only to feel his chest against the back of your head. 

turning in his arms, you stare up at him with bright eyes. “good morning,” you muse. a soft light dances in his pupils as he brings a hand to your hair. a light kiss is placed upon your forehead and he mumbles into it sleazily, “good morning to you too, babe.”

it’s over the years, from far far away to up front and close, that babe becomes dear, and dear becomes honey, and honey becomes love. 

copyright © 2020 rouiyan all rights reserved.

✧ end note — anon babe, i’m so sorry this took a little longer than expected. i’ve been kinda out of my fluff feels these past few days and i really didn’t want to force this. i think i made up for it though because it’s also a little longer than usual and came out a little better than i imagined. i hope you liked it <3.

[guudak]

andante, andante

pairing: jungkook / oc genre + tags: college au, f2l, alcohol, pining word count: 7,522 The aftermath of your best friend singing that ABBA song, clumsily flirting with you and then drunkenly professing his love to you multiple times in the same night.

“Is he ok? Namjoon, what’s he doing?” 

“He’s severely hungover,” he explains to you, propping an arm on the windowsill. His hand gestures. “This is his remedy.” 

You look out the window again, overseeing the frat’s backyard, and down below at the deck - is the person you sought. The gales shake the trees, you can hear it howl, and not to mention the downpour of rain that had you soaked to the skin through your jeans between your sprint from the bus stop to here. You look back at Namjoon, disbelieved. “What, sitting in a hot tub outside in the middle of a hale storm?”

“Erm, well, not the storm bit. That was just unfortunate. Sitting meditatively in a hot tub though, yeah. He does that a lot, moreso when he has something on his mind.” He peeps a discreet eye at you while you claim a seat on the ledge. Your arms cross, huddling your oversized cardigan over yourself as you glance back at the mop of matted black hair on the deck. Jungkook is sitting very still, laying back, eyes closed and his neck craning upwards towards the gloomy sky. A breath of air expels from your nose when you imagine how cold the rain must be. 

“I really wanted to talk to him in person … I don’t know, do you think I should have waited a few days?” You turn to Namjoon who shakes his head. 

“It’s good you came here. I think it would have left him to assume the worst and overthink otherwise, and you know what he’s like - better to confront him sooner than later. He’s been in a kind of sad, mopey daze since this morning.”

Your lips purse together as you mull this over. “I don’t necessarily want to confront him about it now, not if he doesn’t want to yet. I just want to see him and … make sure he’s ok. Because you know, that … overthinking thing he does.”

The upward lift of Namjoon’s lips is soft, the same kind of softness that’s perceptible in his eyes. The look reminds you of Jungkook’s own gentle demeanour. “I think seeing you here will disorient him a litte, but I think deep down he’ll be relieved. ” 

He invites you to sit in the warmth of the lounge downstairs while you wait. The house of Beta Tau Sigma is cosy, and your favourite visits are always during the winter period when they’d decorate the interior, reminding you very much of the setting of a classic Christmas movie. Alas, however, it isn’t winter, and there are still strewn cups around and a broken lamp on the table in front of you; consequence of the party they hosted the previous night.

You’re surprised Jungkook remembers. He’d been so far-gone yesterday, yet you woke up this morning to four successive texts from him -

i’m sorry

im so so sorry.

can we talk

please

You’d thought over a tactful reply; taking into mind Jungkook: despite the calm, rational front he has - is emotional, an individual with a soul as sensitive as they come. You had to be careful with what you said, but soon after aborted all efforts when you’d found yourself backspacing each time. You prefer face-to-face conversation, and for something like this - you couldn’t possibly venture any other approach that would be befitting. For anyone else, perhaps. But Jungkook isn’t just someone else. He’s your best friend.

You check the text in reply that you’d left for him from two hours ago, which is still left unread.

 hi jungkook i’d love to talk

are u ok

Sleeping it over had dulled the shock from the night before, as hearing it from him had been a double whammy for both your head and heart. You hadn’t known what to think, hadn’t known what to say.

In his tastefully tipsy state he’d been very happy. The chirpy go-lucky sort of happy that made you coo. Tipsy Jungkook is sweet and endearing, more affectionate and made it his mission to pull you with him to the karaoke machine. You’d been friends with him long enough to know that he could sing. He’s a soft singer; has a voice that could be lullaby to late sleepy evenings, it’s one you’d heard snippets of because he did it without conscious thought; he hummed in the car, while waiting in line - one of his many mannerisms that makes clear when he’s in his head.

“ABBA? Good choice,” you’d commented, after he jabbed the numbers on the remote. He budged over so you could sit beside him on the armchair. So cramped and close that you moved to drape your leg over one of his, and he welcomed it. “Not their most popular song, but definitely one of their most soulful. That’s a good one, it’s one of my favourites,” and then he stilled. 

At the cease of his movements, you’d found your spine straightening just slightly, as if on guard, but for what you hadn’t been sure. You were about to ask him if he was ok, only to be taking the brunt of his bright puppy eyes that smile at you.

“Me too,” he’d said, with that characteristic gentleness shining in his orbs. 

A few hours later, he’d morphed from sweet boy-next-door with the angel voice to himbo football jock slash and quote “pussy-whisperer,” courtesy and words verbatim of Park Jimin, who vibed with Jock Jungkook like a long lost brother. 

The amount of girls that suddenly flocked to him and sat on his lap had you reeling in hysterics to the extent that you had to bury your face in Hoseok’s shoulder. Even when Jungkook’s on the football team, you’d never thought of him once as a jock. Didn’t they say all jocks are athletes, but not all athletes are jocks? He’d never lived up to the greasy college stereotype. Turned out maybe some alcohol was missing in the mix. Was this what you were missing? Who knew he had it in him?

“How many have you had, man?” Hoseok had asked, and Jungkook grinned, mouth lop-sided, before then thwacking him solidly on the back. 

“I’m good, thanks for asking, man.” 

“That wasn’t what I - ok,” Hoseok winced, clutching at his shoulder blade, and exchanging a bemused look at you. 

You were alert to the sliding gaze of Jungkook on you. He slid into the chair close beside you, and you propped your elbow onto the counter. Head resting in your palm, you’d anticipated it.

“Hey, cutie.”

And there it was.

Your mouth twitched during your attempt to stifle your laugh, but you were eager to play along. You straightened, not shy to look him direct in the eyes, even when his own wandered to your midriff. “Hey.”

A moment’s pause, before he let out a wistful sigh. 

“Holy shit, I love your boobs.”

Hoseok spat into his cup, a succession of coughs after.

“No, I’m just saying, from a non-biased, impersonal point of view …” He made a vague, rounded motion in the air with his hands, “- they’re really nice. I’m saying this objectively.”

“Objectively,” Hoseok wheezed. You aimed a calculated kick at his ankle.

“Thanks! They’re not much but they’re cute, I grew them all by myself.”

Jungkook hummed in acknowledgement, a critical eye on you and his head bobbing solemnly. “You did a good job.”

“Oh my God,” Hoseok was crying; head ducked, full-blown tears of laughter, ears pink and slapping the countertop. “I’m not drunk enough for this.”

“Yours are pretty neat, too,” you told him. 

He looked down at the outline of his chest. “You think so? I’ve been working out but they could do with a bit more volume.” 

Hoseok was doubling over, desperate to leave but at the same time rooted to the spot, thumping his chest to stop himself from choking. “I can’t take this anymore. I’m gonna die if I stay any longer. See you, guys.”

He left, leaving you alone with Jungkook and a few others in the kitchen. “You alright?” you asked, and he nodded again, smiling tiredly and head lolling a little to the side.

“Did you like the song I sang for you earlier?” 

“You sang it for me? How sweet of you,” you cooed, cuddling up to his side. “You know, if you wanted to touch my boobs, if you asked I think I’d be ok with that.”

He seemed hesitant. “You’re bullshitting.” 

“Ok, maybe I am a little,” you chuckled, feeling the rumble resonating from his chest. 

“Seriously,” he murmured, and for a millisecond, you swore you detected the tone of the Jungkook - not this Jungkook who was a confident force, but the one you were most familiar with, “I think I’d -”

Jimin’s voice boomed above the stereo, “Jungkook! It’s your turn! Get your ass back here!”

A heavy sigh was drawn out from him as he slid his chair back. Though, he waited for you to lift your head from his chest before doing so. 

“See you.” He winked at you before following Jimin’s ongoing calls. Though, more of a wink and a half. He never could wink properly with just one eye, both had to be involved.

Then came the finale.

The most recent drunken Jungkook phase - one you’d never witnessed beforehand. If there was anything you could have concluded, it was that beyond his sober level-headed exterior, he must have a lot of pent up anger. Jungkook in drunken phase three transitioned between a three colour spectrum of moods and you’d barely caught up. 

Exhibit one -

“The ocean is so important!” he cried, literally cried as he began bumbling about blue whales and the sheer plastic in the ocean, morosed how the first piece of plastic ever produced still hadn’t decomposed. 

It was no help that Namjoon enthusiastically joined in - the fucking nerds, until Jungkook started bawling and knocked back the salt shaker on the countertop mistaking it for a shot of tequila. 

You’d panicked and dragged him to the nearest bathroom to wash it out of his eyes. The seconds that followed afterwards, was you rubbing his back while he sobbed and puked the hearty contents of his stomach into the toilet.

Exhibit two - 

“If any dude is giving you a hard time, chances are - you’re hotter than them. And on top of that, they made you cry, making you a better person than them!” he proclaimed. Once you’d helped him clean up, he’d bumped into Ola - a girl you recalled was in his media class, and was crying outside of the door of the bathroom you and Jungkook had been in. 

She’d sniffled her way through a story about a boy she’d been talking to for six months, and Jungkook was as revved up as his ocean speech while he pep-talked her about how heartless the guy was; that he gave good guys a bad rep; and that she simply deserved better. Of course, you’d agreed with him. It sounded all too familiar to something you’d said in the past, though who could blame him for adopting your mannerism of speech when he’d spent so much time with you?

Exhibit three -

“Hey, Chad! Why the fuck do you hate poor people?!”

You were mortified. “Jungkook! Literally, where did you get that conclusion from?!” 

“He plays lacrosse and owns a golf cart!”

You groaned, yanking at his arm away from Chad - captain of the boys’ lacrosse team, and who’d also fortunately passed out on the couch, otherwise Jungkook for sure would have had his face beat in. Though, you’d like to think that Jungkook would win, for sure, but you promised sober Jungkook that you’d take care of drunk Jungkook. 

So that was that. 

By now you’d contracted a stress-induced migraine, by which your own best friend was accountable for. And you thought - by God, did he have to deal with this every time you went to a party together while you’d run rampant? This had been an eye-opener, and you should definitely be considerate next time because drunk people were babies, and not in the cute way either.

And finally: exhibit four.

“Hey.” 

You endured all the pet names, had endured being called the Apple of his Eye, Angel Face, and his Compass Star, because flirty Jungkook had been throwing pet names around all night. You’d seen and heard it yourself. But nothing would have prepared you for what he’d say next. 

You glanced at him, just a second to look away from your phone screen. “Yeah?” 

His eyes drooped, form slouched, and head atop his folded arms on the countertop. It was just after midnight, and the kitchen was a quiet lull, besides you and Jungkook who were sitting together; and then there was Jimin and Taehyung, and Seokjin by the sink in their own private conversation … and whatever it was that Taehyung was doing. Admittedly you hadn’t been paying much heed nor did you endeavour to find out.

Body curling into himself; Jungkook looked so much smaller than when he stood to his full stature. 

“I’ve got it bad,” he mumbled, wistfully, “real bad. So bad - I’m doomed bad. End of the fucking world baaad.”

Your hands rubbed at his nape, tender fingers toying with the longer hairs there. He’d been growing it out, and he looked good. You tucked a tuft of hair behind his ear. “What makes you think that?” 

Again - the glossy puppy eyes that gazed up, contemplating you like you’d fallen from heaven. 

His smile was meek, as shy as the drawling voice that spoke, “I … I really think you’re my soulmate. I don’t like saying it too much but I … like, love love you, but we’re only best friends. Someday you’ll date for real - instead of flings, I’d have to accept it. I don’t think I’ll be ok, but I will be, jus’ will take time to get over you. Have done it a few times before. I’ll be ok.” 

Your hand stilled, fingers still tangled in his locks. 

Rendered motionless, like air had been punched out of you from the stomach, unable to bring yourself to salvage the words. Breathless, all you could bring yourself to do was to weakly call his name. 

He hadn’t heard you, and he yawned, leaning into your touch. His body trembled with his giggles. “One time, you were sooo drunk. You were so drunk, don’t think you remembered - blacked out. You flirted with me that whole evening. After that … after that I became obsessed with you forever.”

It was with a sinking stomach when you’d realised that you couldn’t recall that night at all. 

Gulping, you peered down at the mop of tangled hair on the countertop, wishing for nothing else but to properly see his face, but it was half-hidden where he’d snuggled into his arms. 

“Jungkook?” you whispered, gently moving away the hair that flopped over his eyes. “Jungkook?’

No reply. Just steady, heavy breathing.

No reply, because he’d fallen asleep.

It’s a splitting headache that rouses Jungkook from heavy sleep. One of those slumbers where he wakes up groggy, as if he hasn’t rested at all despite it being hours since. He tries to get up, but to no avail. His limbs are leaden heavy, and he collapses back onto his bed within seconds of mustering the strength to hoist himself up.

There are a series of knocks on the door but what’s the point of knocking when Jimin barges in anyway. He snickers seeing Jungkook: a sad, spectacular heap on the bed with a bitching hangover to boot.

“Oh, how the mighty have fallen.” 

“Shut up,” Jungkook drawls, barely recognising the cadence of his own voice. He throws an arm over his face, brow tightening as he shuts his eyes to recall anything that happened hours prior, but even that’s too much of a Herculean effort that his brain isn’t willing to commit to at nine in the morning. Hangovers are not worth the night before for this - this is a different kind of hell. 

Jimin places a glass and a jug of water on his bedside table. “Good morning to you too, sunshine.” 

“Thanks,” he replies. He at least has enough strength to reach for the glass. When he sits up a hand goes instantly to knock against his temple, as if it would stop whatever invisible vice it is that’s squeezing and hammering at his brain from all directions. He notices Jimin’s narrowing scrutiny on him. 

“You remember anything from yesterday?”

“Honestly, not really. Just some bits here and there.” 

“Blacked out, huh.” If Jimin hesitated it’s only for a split second, he stuffs a hand into his hoodie pocket for his phone. “There’s something I wanna show you. Not sure if you’re gonna like it much.”

“Can’t be that bad,” he says, but Jimin proffers a look, and Jungkook frowns. “... Right?”

Jimin licks his teeth in a way that makes Jungkook’s stomach drop just slightly.

“Famous last words, bud,” is all he replies.

 /

The slide of the back doors from the kitchen is what jerks your head up, followed by the sound of feet pattering on tiles. Suddenly, there’s a rise of anxiousness. Until you drum into your head that, no , this is nothing for you to be anxious about. There are the natural nerves budding that stem from confrontation, and you think this may be it.

Towel around his shoulders and dampened hair swept back, Jungkook doesn’t notice you at first when he appears by the doorway. He walks, gazes ahead like his legs are functioning on autopilot - but when he does notice you, he could have skidded. The way he halts and how his body almost springs backwards into the kitchen as soon as he sees your form huddled on one end of the couch, and how Basil - the frat’s cat, is curled by your lap, peacefully asleep and indulging in the soft stroke of your knuckles on his head. 

His expression mirrors a man who wants so desperately to sink into the floorboards. Or to dash back into the hale storm and fully immerse himself head to toe into the hot tub’s waters and never surface again.

The first few seconds of silence is heavy. As if you’re both still trying to process the presence of the other. It’s an uncomfortable silence you’re not accustomed to when with Jungkook. He’s always leaned more to the quiet side of the spectrum; introverted, introspective. But silences had always been comfortable, even when you two clashed. 

You endeavour for eye contact but he’s suddenly so transfixed on a shadow upon the wood flooring. 

“Hey,” you begin, quietly, like the walls are listening in on you. It’s enough gentle encouragement for him to peer up. He hides his hangover well but the mirth, the glint; the starry eyedness that reflected in his orbs from the night before is absent, and no amount of hot tub therapy could conceal the physical and mental exhaustion. 

“Hey.” He sounds almost breathless, smothers the tremor in his voice with a cough. “You’re … you’re soaked.”

“So are you.” Your tone is apologetic, “Sorry I came on short notice, I messaged you but I don’t think you saw it.”

He winces. “Right - sorry. My phone died. Haven’t checked it since.”

You muster a small smile. “I thought as much.” 

Another breath. Another nervous lilt in his voice. “I’m sorry. Not just the phone thing but everything I said to you last night.” 

You sigh. “Don’t be. It’s just … I’m surprised you remember what you said.”

He takes a breath, bicep flexing when he rubs anxiously at his nape. “I don’t,” he admits. “Jimin told me. It’s in this video he took last night of Taehyung eating cake off the floor, you could hear my voice in the background.” 

“Ah. That explains it.” Your lips pursed. “Did you mean what you said?”

His eyes round and flash to yours. He chews his lip, throws a glance at his feet. “... Yeah,” he whispers. 

“Not just the alcohol talking?”

“No.”

You’re quiet, continuing to stroke Basil who’s still fast asleep beside you.

“Sor—“

“Stop apologising,” you snap. You didn’t mean to, but his shoulders tense, and it makes you wallow in guilt that only he out of everyone has been able to make you feel. You haven’t thought this through and now you’re here you’re saying all the wrong things and asking all the wrong questions. But you remember it’s him, and recollect yourself. “Jungkook - it’s just … it’s just a lot to unpack.” 

You peer up, his nod is slow, but he gets it.

He’s tired, you see it clear as day. See it in the trudge of his walk, the dim in his eyes, and neither of you talk on the way up. Not until you reach his room. 

Despite your protests, he insists you help yourself to his draws for a spare change of dry clothes. It’s with that thought when you realise you still have yet to return several shirts to him with the promise of them all being washed and folded; washed and folded they are, but you never have been great at remembering to give them back. Putting it into perspective - maybe it is a little weird. Weird for two people who fall under the label of best friends. But then again you borrowed clothes from your own roommates all the time to the point you sometimes forgot whose is whose. It isn’t weird. Right? 

While Jungkook goes for a brisk shower, you peel off your soaked clothes, hang them over a spot on his clothes rack. His room is mostly devoid of personal touch, though there are a few photos of his high school football days and some of him and his friends pinned to a board. Otherwise, he’s never had much interest for interior decoration, but he likes his room clean and uncluttered. 

There’s a knock on the door a few minutes later. “Are you …?”

“Yeah,” you say. “I’m done.”

The door cracks open, and Jungkook appears, adorned in another change of clothes. His hair is still damp, fluffed at the patches that have managed to dry and his cheeks are pink from the heat of the shower, but he’s less rugged than earlier. Still tired, though. So tired that you don’t question it when he makes a beeline for his unmade bed and collapses face-first into his pillow. You perch on the edge, pulling his duvet over him. 

He wriggles closer to the wall, like he’s making more room for you to sit. You appreciate the gesture and shuffle closer. Outside, the wind still howls.

“You should dry your hair properly,” you murmur, fingers at the damp ends of his nape. 

“Yeah … prob’ly should,” he sighs, muffled where his mouth is buried in his pillow.

You came here to talk about yesterday night, but maybe it’s a conversation for another time. You out of everyone should know how strenuous it is to have a heart-to-heart while being victim to a hangover that gives you the same capacity as someone half-dead. 

You’re staring blankly at the wall, so occupied with the whistle of the winds, so lost in the strands between your fingertips - that when you peer down you’re met with half-open shining eyes, and a lazy blinking gaze directed upwards at your face.

“Yes?” 

“Nothing,” he murmurs, like clockwork, and buries half his face again into the plush of his pillow. It’s enough time for you to catch the shy tilt of his lips before they hid again. It’s almost ironic, how you’re the one next to him while he nurses a hangover when it’s always been the other way round. Here, he’s so vulnerable. Your mind wanders to the possibility - what if it was the other way around? An alternate universe where it was you who serenaded Jungkook with karaoke and confessed. 

In whatever reality, you imagine him to confront you in the way you did now. Perhaps approached it a little differently, would perhaps be a little gentler, but he would never give you the cold shoulder.

For now, you both pretend there’s been no drunken confession. Best friends, like how it’s always been, and you’ll discuss it all when the time comes.

At some point you’re lowering yourself next to him; your head on the same pillow, and your bodies beneath the same blanket. He’s warm. 

And it’s peaceful, as comfortable as it always has been. 

/ 

“Oh my God, where the hell’s your shirt? I haven’t seen you swim once so far,” you scoff, and Hoseok pulls a sour face.

“You’re talking big for being the one in the string bikini.”

You look at him in disbelief. “Yeah, but I actually used the pool?”

“Scooch over, babe.”

Your eyes roll skyward as he plops beside you on the loveseat. It’s another weekend, another frat, another party, another excuse for Hoseok to walk around without a shirt because there’s a pool. Correction: a further excuse for hoards of frat boys to walk around without a shirt, but at this point you’re desensitised to it.

The music booms, a dull vibration you feel through the ground. 

Kappa Omega is infamous for their extravagant parties (at least, as extravagant as college parties can go). Compared to others it’s vastly over-the-top, with most of the guys getting in through connections just like how their college applications got past admissions, but it is what it is. They’re not all bad people, they hold parties for fundraisers but sometimes it can’t be helped not to feel sour when you see what they blow their money on. The Kappa Omega mansion is so big that you’d spent a good portion of the beginning of the night lost.

“Lucky bastards,” Hoseok mutters. He’s said that several times this evening. He’s only here for the booze and the cheese tray. He pops open another beer, chucks the bottle opener onto the low table in front of him, besides the cheese tray he stole from the kitchen. “Which frat party was it again when you blacked out and dived into the pool fully clothed? I can’t remember anymore.” 

“We don’t talk about that, thanks,” you utter, wrapping your long cardigan tighter around your torso. “Have you by chance seen Jungkook around? I thought he’d be here by now.”

He looks up, mid-way from tipping back his beer. “Yeah, I saw him some time ago.”

“What, where?”

“Sat with some food by himself somewhere.” His arm gestures vaguely. “He looked a little sad. You know, in signature Jungkook fashion, you know how he gets sometimes.” 

Your form slumps. “Right,” you murmur. It’s been over two weeks since the last time you saw him. Not that it’s unprecedented. He has football among other commitments that strung him away for days and sometimes weeks at a time, and you had your own as well.

Be that as it may, somehow it feels like the both of you are drawing the whole thing out. Not purposely, but definitely unnecessarily. Neither of you brought it up in your messages to each other either, and it hit you recently that, well - you miss him. You’ve seen him around campus, but never for too long. Nothing more than fleeting sightings of him and his disheveled hair in a half-pony while he rushes to class after football practice; a hand usually holding onto a snack while the other held onto the strap of his half-open duffel bag, but you only had time to exchange a wave and a look that held promise of your next meeting. The fact remains that you miss your best friend, and it would kill you for your friendship to be awkward because of what happened. You had every intention to talk to him tonight in person, and no dallying or delays this time.

Hoseok’s eyes squint your way. “What’s going on between you guys, anyway. You guys a thing or what?”

You sigh, “That’s the thing, I have no idea yet.” 

“Yet.” His lips purse, contemplating you. “He really likes you, you know. So, like, go easy on him.”

Your eyes narrow. “How long have you known, then?”

“As if it was hard,” he scoffs, sitting back. “Guy wears his heart on his sleeve. You have to be thick as a brick not to notice.”

“Wow. Thanks,” you deadpan.

He stabs his fork into the blue cheese. “You know why him and Yerim broke up?” 

“Oh no,” you morose, frowning, “don’t tell me it was because of me. I talked to her after they broke it off and she said it wasn’t.”

“Not entirely. But I think she was bending the truth a little so that you wouldn’t berate Jungkook about it. She’s a cool girl, really nice and a good sport. Knew you two were close and accepted that like a champ. But -” and he pauses for emphasis. A pause which is seconds too long, and then finally he puts his fork down, clutches one of your hands in both of his, and waits for you until you’re hanging on to his every breath while he chews and swallows the remaining in his mouth. He resumes, brightly, “it’s not my story to tell. So you better go and find him.”

You shove him. Harder this time - enough that he topples over, and he cackles obnoxiously. 

“Prick,” you laugh, but rise to your feet. Your gaze spans the backyard, the pool. You spot a hot tub, but it’s filled with other students who are laughing and raucous. 

“Ok, I’m going,” you announce, glancing at Hoseok who’s still very much captivated by the cheese tray before him. It does look really good. “See you in a bit.”

“Yeah, yeah, bye.”

 /

The problem with knowing so many people, and having the same friends as those people - is that in situations where you try to pull yourself away from yet another drinking game you’re taken by the elbow by someone else. Having all of your mutual friends congregated in one domain that is the Kappa Omega House has made your search for the ever-elusive Jeon Jungkook a grand Pain in the Ass. He’s like gold dust. You’ve texted him but you’ve yet to receive a reply.

“Hey, have you seen Jungkook?”

“I saw him at the front porch a few minutes ago?”

“... Seriously? I’ve literally just been there.”

You even scrambled over a balcony and leaped over a hedge when you tried to get away from Chad’s third invitation to join the game of chicken fight in the pool (a parkour stunt that you like to think would put Peter Parker to shame). You give yourself a quiet moment to catch your breath. 

It’s then you realise you’re in a part of the backyard you swear you haven’t been in before. You can presuppose why. It’s dimly lit, less people, and the boom of the stereo is still loud, but is more of a distant noise in comparison to the other parts of the house you’ve been in. Like what the hell, how big is this place? 

“Sooo, you’ve found him yet or what?”

You hear the voice before you see the face. 

Unbelievable. So you cross paths with shirtless Hoseok for the third time and yet haven’t so much as had a hair’s glimpse of Jungkook. 

“Nope,” you reply, quite miserably, hands stuffing into your cardigan’s large pockets. You feel for your phone. He still hasn’t seen your message. At this point you’re one teetering step away from letting go of the remaining wisps of your dignity and yell his name through a megaphone with a hope he'll come to you instead … you’ve probably done that while drunk before but you’re nowhere near tipsy now, and that’s besides the point. 

Behind you, Hoseok hums, quite serene. When you look back you see he’s lowered his back onto the grass, his eyelids shut.

Eyes scanning this part of the backyard, it’s a different ambience to the atmosphere by the pool. More relaxed. There are students either sat or lying on the grass in small groups, their conversations a low murmur with the occasional twinkling sound of someone’s laughter rising above it. There’s a slabbed stone pathway that leads further up the grass, which then disappears behind a tall row of hedges, and with that you find yourself on your feet again. 

“As much as it pains me to leave, there’s only so much of you I can take in one evening before I go crazy,” you tell Hoseok, who’s unbothered reply is no more than a lazy thumbs up from his spot on the grass.

It gets darker the further away you are from the house, but you’re led by the quiet warm-white glow of the lawn lights that highlight the path. It calms your mind to a lull that puts you at peace, something you desperately sought after your hopeless goose-chase just minutes prior. 

The waters of a hot tub glow blue up ahead. You skid to a stop when you come closer and see someone’s in there; shoulders immersed and their head just above the water’s surface. What’s the phrase? When you stop looking for something, it finds you? That’s probably not how it goes, but it doesn’t matter. After futile searching, hedge jumping and greasy frat boy dodging, you finally found him. Of course he’d be in a place like this.

His eyes are dazed, mesmerised by the ripples in the water that his smallest movements create. He hasn’t yet noticed you coming.

You pad closer. “... Jungkook?” and like a switch, his spine straightens, goes rigid as a ramrod at your voice. He’s blinking, head shaking side to side as if to snap himself out of the trance that clouds his head. 

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” you exasperate.

He blinks. “You … you have?”

You scoff, amused at the way his brows knit. “Yeah,” you sigh, stopping so your forearms can lean on the sides of the tub. “May I join you?”

After a beat of hesitation - “Of course you can.” 

You shrug your long oversized cardigan off of your shoulders, and double check that your phone is still in the pocket before you chuck it in a heap on the bench. You secure your footing on the step, eyes intercepting his own. His Adam's apple bobs when the rest of your body comes into view, and you shiver at the breeze but warmth engulfs you the second you’re in contact with the bubbling water.  

“Feels good?” he asks, and you sigh contentedly, leaning back.

“Yeah.” If you really wanted to, you could fall asleep right here, right now. “What is it with you and hot tubs? Always knew you had a thing for them but never asked specifically why. Or does it just feel good?”

“Mainly that. The guys on my team use the excuse that it breaks up the lactic acid in your muscles after training, but it just feels good when you’re sore.” 

“Huh.” When you crack an eye open, he’s already looking at you. 

His lips purse. “Did you want to talk?” and when you nod he sighs, wearily. “I wanted to, honestly. But I … I guess I never felt ready to hear what you’re going to say.”

You frown. “What do you think I’m going to say?” 

“I don’t know. That you don’t feel that way about me, which I’m fine with. I was never meant to let it slip, but I ended up saying all the things I didn’t want you to hear yet. And while I was drunk, of all things.” 

You consider this, broach your tone carefully. “Were you ever going to tell me?” 

His eyes avert to the water. “... Eventually. It would have been after graduation. No step three beyond telling you, no secret ploy to get you to fall in love with me, I only would have wanted you to know how I felt. I’d leave you alone and we’d finally move on with our lives. And what better timing than after graduation? But that’s not how it turned out, did it?” He laughs, but it’s with rueful discomfort.

“How long?”

He exhales. “A while.”

“I see.” You think hard for a second. “Even when you were with Yerim?”

He gnaws on his bottom lip, but you can tell he’s honest when he replies with, “Yeah. But I never pretended she was you.”

“Of course you didn’t, you’re not that type of person.”

At last, he does smile at that, and seeing the tilt of his mouth settles a warmth in your heart.

Part of you wants to ask what happened between him and Yerim, but you think perhaps it’s for the best you don’t know, at least now. It’s not your business nor his obligation to tell you.

Before you could dwell too much on your oncoming words, you continue barging forward or you’ll chicken out from what you’re going to say next.

“Jungkook,” you begin. “What if I said yes?”

A pause. 

“What do you mean?”

“If you asked me out, and I said yes.”

He’s so bewildered he looks as if he’s just been slapped. Suddenly, something more serious shadows his features. “You know I’d never want you to date me just because. I’m fine with rejection, seriously, I’ll get over it. But I don’t want you to settle for less than what you want. You deserve someone you want, and if I’m not that person, that’s fine. You deserve -”

“Last time I checked, you don’t get a say on what it is that I do and don’t deserve. Who I deserve is for me to decide, so stop cutting yourself so short because you’re more decent than most of the guys I know.”

He shifts, looks away. “So what are you saying?”

“Should we try it?”

“What if it doesn’t work out?”

“Then it doesn’t work out,” you say, simply.

“But then it’ll be awkward.”

“You telling me that you became obsessed with me after I flirted with you for one evening while I was drunk already made it awkward. Not like we have anything else to lose.”

A breath of air expels from his nose in a chuckle. “Oh, ouch.”

“Jungkook,” you sigh. “It’s so easy to be around you. If it doesn’t work out, then it doesn’t work out, but how are we supposed to know how it’s going to turn out if we don’t even give it a chance? It’s going to be awkward either way but we’ll figure it out. Like with all the other crap we’ve gone through. I’ve been with enough guys to know that guys like you come far and few between, I trust you enough to want to do this. You’re one of those few guys I know I can trust, alongside Hoseok. Even though he can be a real bitch sometimes.”

Jungkook doesn’t rebuke you, but he laughs. It’s a sound you’ve never been more relieved to hear. 

“So what do you think? I don’t want to force you into it. If you don’t want this, I’m fine with it. If you do, I’m fine with that too. Everything on my end is fine, so what about yours?”

If him confessing happened a year, or maybe two years earlier, you don’t think you would have confronted it in the way that you’d done now. You understand why Jungkook wanted to bide his time. You’re stubborn, fiery, and don’t think things through in the way that Jungkook does. If this happened two years ago, you can imagine you’d have yelled at him on impulse, asking him why, why he let it happen.

But there’s a very particular fondness you’ve honed for your best friend that has unfurled in the years of your friendship, to the point you couldn’t possibly imagine yourself putting blame on him for his feelings. It seems being friends with him has really mellowed you. While Hoseok is the friend you’re most similar to, your other pea-in-the-pod, Jungkook is the friend who balances you out. Someone so different to you, yet someone who still knows what makes you tick.

He’s a friend who doesn’t judge, but yet is always first to call you out whenever you’re out of line. A friend who waits until you’re inside of your dorm building before driving away. The type of guy who pays for dinner and doesn’t expect you to pay him back. A friend who makes sure you’re back home safely when you’re drunk, puts a glass of water next to you and watches over you to make sure you don’t choke on your vomit in your sleep.

Finally, after careful consideration, he nods. He nods, finally.

“So we’re doing this then.” You crack a smile, and he finds it difficult to suppress his own.

“Yeah,” he whispers. “Yeah, I guess we are.”

With an unchanging temper, as still and as serene as waters below the turbulent surface - Jungkook is your anchor, he always has been. The anchor that tethers your feet to the earth when the elements threaten to topple you over.

In the blue glow, you shuffle closer forward on your knees. 

“Can I kiss you?” you murmur, and he chokes on his saliva, spluttering. You smile sheepishly. “Sorry it’s weird, you don’t have to let me if that’s going too fast. I just … I want to see what it feels like.” 

He hesitates. “Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure.”

He mulls it over, but it doesn’t take much thinking. He stares at you, hard. But then you disrupt the stillness with a disarming smile, and unable to resist, he beckons you over. “Come here.”

It’s odd to straddle his lap at first. In the same way it is when you’re getting on a bike for the first time or any kind of first. He doesn’t make any first move, it’s you who he waits to initiate. 

The path of your fingers trail slowly upwards, until they’re splayed against his chest. They remain there, and you detect the quick pattering of his heart, the rise of his chest. His breaths are deep but they’re controlled, and he feels sturdy beneath you. 

Jungkook is stupid handsome, with the body to match. But that’s not what swells your heart. It’s not what pushes you to move further forward in his lap and finally press your mouth to the seam of his lips before you could think twice.

It’s how tenderly he gazes up at you. With the same sincerity and adoration he’d shown the night he’d confessed drunk. His eyes, an opening to his soul which is a whole other wonder. 

When was the last time someone looked at you like that? 

The kiss is soft. No sparks, no butterflies on your end - not yet, but somehow it still feels right. Like missing pieces that have finally fallen into place. Warmth and love spills from him. It saturates your body to the very tips of your ears, all the way down to your toes, like a slow, spreading glow. It feels good.

When shy pecks don’t become enough anymore, you get needy, touching and grasping for more of him. His palms press against your lower back, massaging the skin there, and eventually your mouth parts pliant for him. 

“Oh,” he croaks, his head leaning forward so his cheek brushes yours. You can’t see his eyes, and you attempt to move but he curtains the planes of his face with his hair. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask, having to strain to catch his whisper. 

“I’m embarrassed.”

You chuckle, warmth spreading from the spot on your ear that his lips hover over. “How come?”

“Like, there are probably bricks softer than my dick right now. And … I really, really don’t wanna jizz my pants in a Kappa Omega hot tub. I would have hit my lowest point in life if I do.” 

“Oh my God.” You’re almost crying, shoulders shaking with how hard you’re laughing. 

“Please, I’m so serious right now. I’d never be able to redeem myself.”

“Would jizzing in an obscenely expensive hot tub be so bad?”

“Yes,” he emphasises. “Really bad, actually. Have you heard of that guy who ejaculated in a swimming pool and accidentally got twenty girls pregnant?”

“That sounds like fake news. There’s no way. Sperm aren’t homing torpedoes, Jungkook. They’d be unviable as soon as they’d be in the water. But if you want me to move back, I’ll move back.”

His face is taut, like he’s trying so hard. “Yes, please.” His eyes go stern, but there’s a nervous jitter you feel with the skin beneath your fingertips. “And just because I think it’s worth mentioning, I don’t think we should have sex straight away.” 

“Oh. Right. I see,” you deadpan.

It’s his turn to cackle at the dead-set, disappointed look on your face. “What’s with that?”

Your eyes roll. “You know I’m kidding.” You brush the hair out from his eyes. “Jungkook, will you wait for me?”

His expression softens, and he hoists you until you’re pressed impossibly closer.

“Of course I will. However long it needs to be.”

a/n: when jk says you flirted with me the whole night and i became obsessed w you forever, yea that was from b99

originally posted on ao3! thx for reading!!! <33 

[kamkairo]

16/18/21 for Aldous!

oh man you gave me some good ones, hope you don't mind if I go on about this little bastard man ;W;

16- What do you think would improve this character? Like, character-arc wise?

I do think about this a lot

As much as I put Aldous through hell with all that he has mentally and psychologically messed up with him, I do want him to eventually get better and actually enjoy his life while he has it instead of dreading each day as they come, being able to do what actually makes him happy instead of forcing himself to do a job that just makes his problems worse, and getting that persona he hid behind as a coping mechanism that got wildly out of control over time back in check. I have a lot about him written out, including what exactly affects him so badly, but haven't yet figured how they could be dealt with. Not everything can be 'fixed', but some can be mended enough to get him back to a much more stable state of mind, such as decreasing the persona's influence over his mentality and finding a balance that lets him be accepting of his fate but also eager to make the most of his time while abandoning his mortician profession and sticking with what he actually enjoys

I have writings for multiple different outcomes for him, and I like exploring them in AUs sometimes because I have far too much free time and not a lot better to do

18- What’s something you associate this character with? E.g. a certain colour, object or scenery?

The things I associate with Aldous are mostly things I had in mind while designing him (though it is a recycled design from a character I no longer use but it has had some alteration since) and figuring out his personality and characteristics. I can go into a little more detail with them as I list them below. Some might make less sense than others but that'd be due to lore that I haven't talked about openly yet

Spiders (related to the way he sometimes moves about) Shrews (the first original design was an anthropomorphic shrew, so he has a long nose, rodent-like teeth, and a sometimes aggressive temperament as a sort of reference to it) Tim Burton (the designs of Psychonauts gives me Tim Burton vibes to a degree, and Aldous's design was somewhat purposely based on those in Corpse Bride) Edwardian era (related to his family line, his parents were born in the mid-to-late 1800s in England before immigrating to the states, bringing parts of their homeland with them) Ratigan (his mannerisms and flamboyant behavior) Vincent Price (my voiceclaim for Aldous is Price's voice pitched up a little over 10 percent, it has the melancholic vibe that I feel fits him very well (I know he uses a transatlantic accent and not british but it's close))

I would be very curious to know what others might associate him with, though I haven't talked about him much so far so there probably isn't much for people to go off of

21- Wild card! Talk about anything to do with this character! Anything at all!

Radom fact about myself, when I make ocs/fancharacters, I often like to make characters I'd personally like to see in things I enjoy, and Aldous is no exception. When I write about him he's actually very fun to figure out, since he's got a number of traits to him that I like exploring in a bit more depth. When he's not being a depressing, brooding asshole or riddled with anxiety, he's very extra and dramatic

and I didn't plan on him turning out this way but I think it works out

[pikemoreno]

if you ever wanna be in love

Chapter I: Coffee Cures All Ills

a/n: Here it is folks! The first part of a Marcus fic heavily inspired by the Netflix rom-com Set It Up. 

It’s more structurally and conceptually inspired and not an exact scene-for-scene remake because a) I was interested in the idea of this not even really being an AU. This is extremely canon-compliant and you’ll see more of that as we continue on. 😏And b) because I had lots of ideas that spun off from watching Set It Up that I just liked better for the purpose of this fic. So that’s what you can expect. It’s gonna be cheesy and fun and great.

The first couple of chapters are a lot of, well, set up (which has been infuriating). But we’ll get into the meat of it soon. My outline says so.

As a side note, a lot of the gifs I’m going to be using are from the movie, but these are not my face claims for any of the characters. I’m using them simply for the ~vibe~ of the chapter. Reader is not a small white girl... Or she might be. She is you. Or whatever OC you’d like her to be. Period. 

And that’s it. Let’s go, I guess.

pairing: marcus pike x f!reader

word count: 2k (probably one of the shortest chapters we’re gonna see out of the 14-ish lolz)

warnings: none, and i don’t expect there to really be any serious ones in upcoming chapters either. this is just fun.

Marcus Pike never wanted to fall in love. 

He’d seen what it had done to him in failed relationships including everything up to a failed marriage. Some would argue that it wasn’t love then, that love doesn’t fail, so it couldn’t have been. But he disagreed. He knows it when it hits. It comes on you like lightning, bright and fast. You accept it, letting it run through your veins, and risk suffering a fatal blow to your heart. And it most definitely can fatally fail. It can cause joy and pain in equal measure. He’d already been struck so painfully once, the blow of the electricity going straight to his heart. He was beginning to hope to the high heavens that he wouldn’t be so unlucky as to be struck a second time, just in case it should reach his heart so painfully once more.

Marcus Pike never wanted to fall in love.

He felt that especially strongly as he watched Adrian go through his recent break-up. He felt for his fellow agent, he really did. Adrian was completely convinced Sam was the one, sold to the point of going ring shopping soon. But one brief mention of an engagement sent Sam running for the hills. He’d been moping around the office for a couple of weeks now and, as much as Marcus understood the pain, he was already really looking forward to Adrian’s rebound or some similar distraction. He was needing his friend’s signature fire back right about now, not to mention his focus. His work had gotten sloppy in this mourning period. He was constantly distracted. Marcus was dreading getting him on this case today, but maybe it was just the push he needed. He hoped. He stepped up to Adrian’s desk, watching the glazed over look in his eye.

“Hey, Adrian, do you mind getting a head start on this? I’d really like you to be our head man on--” he slid the file onto his desk, but was cut short by Adrian’s response. A response that had nothing to do with anything Marcus had just said.

“I’m gonna die alone,” he muttered, hands supporting his chin, elbows on his desk. Marcus let out an exasperated sigh that he didn’t seem to notice.

“You’re not gonna die alone,” he played along once again, rubbing his temple.

“Maybe I’ll go be a monk. They never have to worry about this shit.”

“An honorable profession.”

“Yeah.” Adrian blinked out of his dream-like state. “I’m doing it again, aren’t I?” Marcus nodded rigidly. “Sorry, Pike.” He opened the file, nodding slowly, “Yeah, I’ll get on this.”

“You look exhausted,”

“I am,” he admitted sheepishly. 

“I’m making a break room run to get coffee, you want one?”

“Please.” Marcus nodded his understanding and made his way down the hall to the break room. He doubted a case and a coffee could get his friend back on track, but he could hope, right?

***

If you had to listen through one more of Wendy’s mood swings, you might just scream. You love the girl, you really do. She’s your friend and the best boss you could’ve asked for, but Lord Almighty, had she been in rare form. Some days she was perfectly fine, strutting around like she didn’t care that her asshole boyfriend Daniel gave her an ultimatum instead of a ring on their last anniversary. Other days would see her doing a complete 180, shutting herself in her office and weeping into suspect files. Your least favorite days, though, were days where the heartbreak made her angry, where thinking about Daniel saying “It’s me or your job” made her border-line vengeful. But, unfortunately for you and the rest of the team, he wasn’t around to take the beating.

You couldn’t say you entirely understood. The short catalog of even shorter flings that you boasted brought largely apathy rather than heartbreak. You couldn’t say you’d ever been in love like Wendy had been. You’d never felt anything quite that strong-- and thank goodness for that. It wasn’t something you particularly looked forward to, at least, not the way you’d seen it lately. It was an uncontrollable force, dangerous and all-consuming. You liked control, liked being in your right mind. If love was to take up it's unfortunate residence, you could only hope it was for someone worth losing your mind over. You hadn’t seen anyone of the sort so far. 

Unfortunately, it was already too late for Wendy Harrod. The already intimidating head of the Jewelry & Gem Theft Program in Texas was in rare form. You watched as an HR intern ran from her office in near tears. Poor Randy. Her sharp “come in” in response to your knock on her door made you wince.

“Harrod, I have the results of that house search you requested if you--”

“No, no! Absolutely not, I cannot handle this right now,” she was absolutely raging, leaving you grasping at straws for a response. 

“I-- Uh-- Of course. I’ll just leave it right here whenever--” you placed it gently on the end table by the door before being interrupted again.

“Ughhhhh,” she groaned out before flopping into her desk chair, the red leather creaking as she let sit spin her around once, “I’m sorry. I’m being mean.” There was your Wendy.

“Just a little.”

“Sorry, sorry. Bring that here please.” 

“What can I do for you? As your friend, I mean. You--” you weighed your words carefully as you hand her the report, “You haven’t quite been yourself since…” you stopped that thought, “Well, lately.” She sighed, shaking her head.

“I don’t know. I don’t know what I need,” she began to skim the report before looking back up with you with a tight lipped smile, “Maybe a coffee? For the more immediate problems anyway.” You laughed.

“Now that I can do. I’m headed there now. Break room coffee ok?”

“That’d be perfect.”

“The usual?”

“The usual.” She yelled after you as you walk down the hall, “You’re an angel!”

She wasn’t gonna be saying that when you came back without coffee. 

The sign on the coffee pot reading “out of coffee” was going to seriously ruin your reputation and Wendy’s sensitive mood. You ran through the options: you couldn’t leave to get her a Starbucks; there were some bottled iced coffees in the fridge, but Wendy hated them; you could wait for someone to make a run at lunch and pass on the order, but this was too urgent. Then it hit you. Everyone knew the sixth floor had the better coffee stock anyway. The art freaks loved their fancy stuff. You could always just waltz down a floor and snag two cups from their stash. 5 minutes in and out. No harm done, no questions asked. 

Or so you thought. 

The sixth floor break room was already occupied when you walked in, finding another agent also brewing a morning cup in a single cup coffee maker. 

They really did have everything here: multiple pots, another much fancier looking machine that looked like it might come to life and attack at any moment, recyclable coffee cups, every type of creamer. You name it.

You’d have to sneak over here more often.

You stepped up to the larger coffee pot, rinsing out the carafe before reaching for the container of grounds. Empty. 

They had everything here. Except coffee. 

Was the whole damn building in a coffee famine? You didn’t have time to check.

“No, no, no, no,” you panicked, frantically searching the cabinet for another container. In your peripheral you could see the other agent look at you like you’d grown two heads. You couldn’t be bothered with his judgement, but you met his eyes to ask, maybe a little too frantically. 

“Is that the last of it?” you questioned, eyeing the cup he was brewing.

“Well, yeah, sorry.” It was obvious he meant it, but apologies were not what you were needing right now.

“Shit.” 

“Withdrawals?” he laughed a little at your panicked state, but it wasn’t demeaning. He was genuinely amused, and maybe a little concerned, but it made you narrow your eyes at him all the same. You were not in the mood for the mocking, no matter how light-hearted it may be. No matter how much it was softened by the bright smile next to you.

“It’s not for me. It’s for my boss. My very upset boss who needs just one small ounce of joy in her life right now. The kind of joy that can only come from the fueling of her caffeine addiction, so if I could please just have that cup?” You blinked at him innocently, but his dark brown eyes widened as he shook his head

“What? No. I have a friend who needs this. If I don’t bring him this, he won’t be working for the rest of the day.”

“If I don’t bring my boss a cup of coffee in the next two minutes, I will probably not be working again. Ever. I will be dead. Do you want to be complicit in a murder, Agent--” you glanced at his badge, “Pike? Can you really live with that?”

“You’re awfully dramatic aren’t you?”

“I wish it was an exaggeration.” He inspected your badge then too.

“Jewelry and Gem Theft. Floor 7, right? What brings you down here to steal our coffee?” The argument was pointed, but his demeanor was anything but. He was smiling, enjoying this. A little too much, you seethed. You couldn’t stand around arguing all day.

“We’re out too.”

“Try another floor?”

“Time is of the essence here, Art Squad.” There was no room for addressing him politely now, he was riling you up on purpose. 

“If you didn’t stand here arguing with me you could’ve tried another floor by now, Jewels.”

He must think he’s so clever.

“Please. This is DEFCON 5.”

“You do know DEFCON 5 is the good one, right?”

“You know what I mean. Please.” He looked at you and then the newly brewed cup, biting the inside of his cheek, thinking through the problem.

“Tell you what. I am willing to split this if you are. Maybe it’s enough to fix both of them.” The crease between his eyebrows was deep as he studied your face, “I know Adrian is too out of it to notice he’s getting jipped, not sure about your boss.” You shrugged.

“Wendy will manage. It’s enough to keep her from throwing something at my head next time I walk in.” He dutifully split the coffee between two of the recyclable travel cups and handed one to you. You took it gratefully. 

“I hope this keeps you from… Dying? What’s up with that anyway?” You’re not sure what made this person that was essentially a stranger so interested in your life, but something about it feels nice.

“She had a really bad breakup: anniversary, thought it was going to be a proposal, instead it was him being a piss-baby. She’s a little all over the place right now. They’d been together for years and now there’s just… A hole. She doesn’t know how to deal with it.” Pike’s nod in response is emphatic, giving the cup in his hand a little wave.

“Same with him. Terrible breakup. He didn’t see it coming at all. She broke up with him on a voicemail… Then moved. ‘Course it just put him in this crazy funk, though. Doesn’t wanna work or do much of anything. No violence. Yet. But it’s sad to see.” You winced.

“That’s a rough one. Best of luck with him, Art Squad. Thank you. I owe you one. Seriously.”

“You definitely do, Jewels.” His smile is blindingly bright as he jokes. It makes you smile back.

“See you around.”

series taglist: @whiskeyslasso​ @ahopelessromanticwritersworld​

forever tags: @acomplicatedprofession​ @hdlynn​ @makaela27 @space-floozy @catfishingmorales​ @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa​ @princessbatears​ @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @findhimfives​

[notsosensational]

This is my classpect master post for Danganronpa 1! I just replayed the game so it’s fresh in my mind, and I tried to keep these fairly short so I cut out some of the smaller details. Feel free to tell me what you like or what you don’t. I will be reblogging with thoughts about Touko and Genocider Sho. Also check out @jinjojess post about the DR1 classpects! I compared a lot of my thoughts with theirs!

Naegi Makoto - Witch of Heart

-actively manipulates feelings and sense of self. He is not very confident in himself, we know this from the beginning, and I think that manifests as acting as a Seer of Mind pretty often. It gets him pretty far in the trials, but his true talent lies in getting people on his side. Sayaka was into him before she even talked to him, and throughout the game people come to him for help concerning things to do with emotions and sense of self (Touko & Byakuya, Kiyotaka & Mondo twice). Not to mention, he’s labelled “ultimate hope”, which is due to him being able to boost everyone’s spirits (change their mood).

Asahina Aoi - Sylph of Hope

-passively heals positivity, possibilities, and beliefs. I really wanted to go with life for her, but while she’s full of energy, she’s not all that concerned about growth or overcoming obstacles, she just wants things to turn out well and that’s more in the realm of positivity and possibility. When Sakura’s secret was out, Aoi was most concerned with how to get the rest of them to believe her and to believe in Sakura; she needed to heal the group’s faith. She consistently believes in everyone, even though she is frequently disappointed, and the only exception to this is Byakuya and Touko after they insult Sakura. 

Togami Byakuya - Prince of Life

-actively destroys growth and energy. His manner is very, very prince-like, “I’m the best and I can’t understand why no one else sees that”, not to mention he’s basically a literal prince of his family. He’s very quick to shoot people down and destroy their spirit, their energy, and during investigations he’s either no help at all, or antagonistic. All of the life players we’ve seen in HS have been on top of the food chain, the Peixes blood color and Jane’s Crocker corporation, which are both comparable to the Togami family. Before the killing game, he was most concerned with growing stocks, owning businesses, and obtaining knowledge he will use when he is the monarch of his family, which all seem life-like.

Celestia Ludenburg - Heir of Void

-passively changes misfortune and secrets. Originally I had her as light, but she doesn’t really care about information, only keeping secrets. She doesn’t use fortune to her favor, instead she just *is* luckier than the others, i.e. changing everyone else’s misfortune. She’s not actually that active though- she doesn’t do it on purpose and she doesn’t do a lot in general as she prefers to get others to do stuff for her. But she does play into the heiress persona, changing her name to seem like nobility and wanting dozens of servants.

Fujisaki Chihiro - Page of Doom

-actively exploits and is served restrictions and suffering. She is very clearly doom, as she is very empathetic due to her suffering in life, in addition to being a programmer when doom is linked to coding. I really can’t see anything else. Her being a page is also pretty clear- a slow growing class that tends to put up a facade, and is linked to a servant archetype when Alter Ego was basically the team’s servant. Her main desire is to help the rest of them even after her death through the restrictions that Alter Ego has.

Yamada Hifumi - Rogue of Light

-passively steals information and substance. I considered a number of possibilities for him, settling on light first. He has the rambley, self-important dialogue of a light player, he collects information about his interests in anime and fanfiction, and he creates fanfic. While creation isn’t light specific, taking the info and substance from an anime and rehashing it into his own stories sounds like a rogue of light. He is later a servant to Celeste, who feeds him lies and misfortune; he could be called a Page of Void at that point, which is fitting with Celestia’s void aspect.

Ishimaru Kiyotaka - Knight of Time

-passively exploits and serves through time. He’s very strict about time, being on time and using time wisely. Not just for himself though, he wants everyone to hold the same policies he has. He wants to have an environment where everyone is able to give it their all- he wants to exploit the time he has in order to serve everyone. His inversion is Thief of Space, and I think we see this in “Kiyondo Ishida”, as he seems to steal Alter Ego’s creation to add another dimension to himself. And- this is just my opinion- I also think he ghosts his inversion pretty often even before that, due to the impact of the disreputation of his grandfather and his vehement dislike of “geniuses”.

Kirigiri Kyouko - Maid of Mind

-actively creates and heals logic and decisions. She eluded me for a while tbh. I thought light first, but while she focuses on finding the truth, other information isn’t as important, and she doesn’t seem to match any other markers of light. Instead she seems more like Terezi, a mind player who likes law and detective work. Kyouko creates a path of decisions that surround a crime, and she uses logic to help Makoto make the right choices. She is outwardly cold and focuses on controlling her emotions, which makes me suspect she ghosts her inversion as a Bard of Heart due to her lost sense of self.

Kuwata Leon - Rogue of Breath

-passively steals and relocates freedom and direction. I understand him to have only come into himself recently. I think for most of his life he was ghosting as a Page of Blood, getting served bonds and obligations that he didn’t really want but exploiting them so he was free to do things other than study. When he was accepted at Hope’s Peak, he finally took his freedom and decided that he was going to do what he was driven to do, which is pursuing music. Rogue also fits into the outcast archetype of his alternative/punk style of clothes and personality.

Oowada Mondo - Bard of Blood

-passively destroys bonds and obligations. Blood is everything to him, his brother and his gang are most important, and his word and his promises are solid. But his brother died for his recklessness, he lied about it, he killed Chihiro which exposed her secret even though he tried to cover it up, and he broke Taka’s spirit when he died. He destroys the bonds around him passively, without meaning to, and his secret and his act of killing were both fairly out of the blue. No one really expected that of him- certainly not Kiyotaka, and that fits a bard’s MO.

Oogami Sakura - Maid of Blood

-actively creates relationships and bonds. She is defined by her bond to her family and her bond to her destiny. She is devoted to growing stronger, which made me think life, but she’s growing stronger to fulfill her duty and keep the respect of her family, not to overcome obstacles. That aspect though, the desire to help everyone else become stronger too, that’s very maid/sylph. She’s fairly passive, but definitely not passive enough for sylph, and she tends to focus more on creating new bonds especially regarding ones with herself, rather than healing preexisting ones.

Maizono Sayaka - Mage of Void

-actively knows misfortune and secrets. She tells Makoto that she’s known from a young age that she will have to do anything to reach her dreams, and she acts on her understanding of that misfortune which leads to her death. She focuses more on the misfortune and nothingness part of void, acutely understanding that if she falls out of relevancy, she’s done for. She also jokes with Makoto about being a psychic, knowing his unheard thoughts, which plays into the prophet archetype of a Mage, and knowing the unknown.

**Fukawa Touko & Genocider Sho - Page of Heart & Bard of Heart

-actively exploits and is served emotions and self-identity. Touko… has some issues. She is very concerned about herself, who she is, and how she’s perceived, which is the trademark of a heart player. She is actually good at using emotions to get what she wants. She gets people to stay away from her but also be concerned about her at the same time, not to mention she managed to get Byakuya to let her tail him around which I still don’t understand how. She keeps a strong facade up due to her insecurities and necessary caution due to Genocider Sho.

-passively destroys sense of self and emotions. Sho destroys emotions in a literal sense, by killing anyone she “crushes” on, and she destroys Toko’s sense of self through emotions by leaving her to come to at murder scenes, therefore forcing her to stay paranoid and keep a huge secret. Doesn’t really do it intentionally, as Sho tells Makoto that it’s the same thing as a soccer player kicking a ball, it’s just nature.

Hagakure Yasuhiro - Seer of Hope

-passively understands possibilities and beliefs. Even when he’s pessimistic, he’s optimistic by everyone else’s standards. He is always able to see some better possibility… whether it’s true or whether others believe him remains to be seen. He definitely fits the somewhat far-fetched but unshakable beliefs profile that Hope players have. And he’s definitely knowledgeable about his, uh, profession in a way that seers usually are.

Ikusaba Mukuro - Knight of Space

-passively exploits and serves through space. This was a hard one, partly because we don’t see a lot of her, so it’s long; I used a lot of process of elimination and, well, vibes. Space is about physical matter, size and location, creation, and beginnings. At an early age, she ditched her family in Europe in order to join an elite mercenary group in the Middle East. She is extremely proficient in hand-to-hand, melee, and ranged combat, though she admits that she was never good at planning ahead and strategizing. She was also able to accurately portray Junko, the Ultimate Fashionista. Those three things point me towards space, as her past is about location and beginnings, ranged weapons are about distance, planning ahead is about time which is her opposite, and acting as her sister is an act of creation and physicality, not to mention that clothes have a link to the space aspect as well. Most of the classes don’t really fit her, but the little personality she has is devoted to serving her sister, serving her organization before that, and in DR IF, serving Makoto. Knights are also fighters, obviously.

Enoshima Junko - Thief (Lord?) of Rage

-actively steals rage and limitations. Junko is a lot. Just, a lot. I’m actually leaning towards giving her the “Lord” title because honestly, the level of embodiment that she has over the rage aspect is unparalleled. But I just don’t know enough about the master classes for me to feel comfortable enough with that. So I’m going with thief instead. She definitely gets off on everyone else’s despair and sets them up so they have limited possibilities in the killing game. She takes from them and takes from them and leaves them with some hope just to finally steal that too.