#i carry all my past selves with me

[the-potato-slayer]

[matrixkent]

linda still having blue eyes after matrix has left. a part of me will always be with you. you will never leave me behind.

[ninasodiiva]

what are their true feelings?.ೃ࿐

PAC reading

hi my babes! it's crazy the love my first reading received, i'm so happy to know the messages resonated ┊͙ ˘͈ᵕ˘͈.

someone requested this pac reading, and i liked it because the uncertainty of not knowing how someone feels about you is fucking horrible (been there). so keep reading if you'd like to know what are their true feelings? ༊*·˚

how to choose a group:

take a deep breath and relax your body, look at all the pictures and pick the one you are the most drawn to, don't think about it to much. you might be attracted to the picture or the number. REMEMBER this is a general reading, take what resonates and leave what doesn't. nothing is set in stone. if you are not drawn to any of the pictures this might not be the reading for you loves. tarot is a divination tool to meant for guidance!! nothing is set in stone and you are the master of your own fate and the captain of your own soulㅤ ♡ྀི

that said, let's get into it!

- group 1: polka dot tights 🤍

hi my beautiful group 1, let's start.

at first i was extremely confused reading your cards but all of the sudden a wave of messages came in. i feel this is how you're feeling, confused (well you wouldn't be here if you weren't lol). i'm always direct when giving messages and this case is no different. babes i feel you're dealing with a person from your past, someone you already have history with and once felt like home to you, things have changed a lot. you either broke up some time ago but still keep in touch or that person is still your partner. well, this is a classic story, you both are growing and your new selves don't quite fit anymore.

there are two energies in the reading so pick the one that resonates

if this is your actual partner my group 1, i see you making great efforts to keep the relationship alive, you're a romantic, very down to earth and devoted person. the "problem" here seems to be your person, they are not who they once were. from what i'm getting i feel your person has become very independent as if they were single. keeping things to themselves, not sharing time with you, acting cold... really what im getting is that they want to focus more on their personal goals and dreams, they want to be free (?). you put the efforts to keep the fire alive, and that says beautiful things about you but... the truth is people grow apart, and it has nothing to do with you, it happens. spirit is telling me it's time to let this person go for good, both of you served your purpose within the relationship and a new chapter is ahead 🤍 they are also telling me that a conversation is VERY much needed to put an end to this cycle, a truthful, vulnerable conversation. i just heard: don't fall back into old patterns again. babes don't be like carrie in this situation pls.

spirit wants me to say that this is no one's fault, the love was there, and will be just in a different form. it's like losing contact with an old friend, you will always love them and cherish them but not in the same way. for this collective of group 1 i sense both of you are great people, it's just that you guys have different visions for you futures. have grace with yourself and remember my loves that it's not a loss, but the gain of a beautiful experience and memories.

lastly spirit says to leave your worries to them and to cherish yourself and this new chapter in your life babes. with love, Nina 🦢⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

if this is an ex or a situationship (god i hate that term) im gonna be straight forward with you babes. your person does not feel anything romantic towards you, you're confusing lust and a bit of attention for love. i feel that since you have history with this person you believe things could work out this time but im here to tell you that no (im sorry if im too harsh, i think you need it <3).

the "problem" seems to be that you my pile 1 have this subconscious belief which tells you that familiar is good even if it hurts mix with a need for validation (gosh i sound so harsh im sorry 😭). your person literally couldn't give less of a fuck, they are the definition of a fuckboy. girl please get out, let me put it to you this way. would you like your daughter to be in your situation? no right? well then FUCK YOUR PERSON. really babe, stand up you don't wanna be the "long-term long distance low commitment casual girlfriend" 🙏🏼 your person will not choose you and its not because of you, they are not serious when it comes to relationships.

he is already getting you without having to choose you, clock that.

spirit says you have no idea how much your life will improve in EVERY ASPECT once you let that person go and understand that the only validation and acceptance you need is from yourself diva. STAND UP BABE. i'm sending you lots of love and strength to leave that dusty and i apologize if at some point it got too straight forward.

with love, Nina 🦢⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

- group two: kitten heels 🩰

my group two omg when i tell you its not even funny the way im giggling while channeling the messages... gosh im so excited for you! <3

okey so, your person has feelings for you. gosh so many messages are coming through and i can't write that fast. this person likes you A LOT, he has the biggest crush on you, it's a love so sweet and tender... your person has been through hell in past relationships and that has caused them to reject love for some time, what spirit is saying is that meeting you was really cathartic for them because the feelings were so strong they had to find a way to heal to be with you.

babes be patient with them pls i'm being so serious, they are fighting their own demons and fears to find the courage to trust someone again 🤍 they are so shy about you it's so funny lol cause i'm feeling normally they're not like that. they see you as someone so kind and patient, extremely caring and beautiful physically. i'm seeing this image of you being in your world and them admiring you from afar wow. the cards and spirit support this connection 100%, what they are asking you to do is to help your person a little bit!! try to break the ice by being playful and they say it's important not to rush and get to know each other. but i assure you this is absolutely lovely energy 🌹

spirit is saying it will be sooner than expected and to be honest and thoughtful with your person, i sense they are a very strong and romantic person but when it comes to love they are hopeless. it's so sweet that they are literally forcing themselves to face their demons in order to be with you, that's how much they want you 🤍 also be prepared to go on date i heard!!

congratulations pile two you deserve this kind of love and i'm so so so excited to hear how this unfolds for you!! there's not much to say, with love Nina ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🦢

- group three: brown cardigan

hi group number three hope you're having a great day, let's get into your reading! <3

babes did you friendzone this person? lol. it's funny because i see your person hiperfixated on you but they think their feelings are not reciprocated by you? i don't know how you feel about them but since you're reading this i'm assuming you care for them at least.

im seeing your person being in their own a lot, for some reason they are going through WAITT OH. okey there are two collectives here. some of you friendzone your person or that's at least that's how they feel. and for others your person it's fighting the urge to confess how they feel towards you, because they truly appreciate your friendship. take it as it resonates!

group number 3 i'm feeling a push and pull dynamic between the both of you, i'm here to give you clarity so if you like this person spirit is saying to let yourself feel these emotions, it's safe to like someone and specifically your person!! they literally feel the same as you really, it's like those movies where the love interests are COMPLETELY blind and it's infuriating to watch 😫. you both are so awkward it's hilarious and cute. the advice here is to be open minded, i feel you're doubting this person because you have a wrong perception of them, get to know them more and make an effort!!!

i can not stress that enough, it's showing multiple times in your reading. this is someone compatible for you and the attraction is there. i can't quite pinpoint what is exactly making you both doubtful, maybe other people??

bottom line is that they like you as well and they are planning to take action towards you but you need to do that as well babes. for the ones who friendzone them (lmao) spirit says they also wanna come towards you but you crushed their hopes and now they think there's 0 chances. you have to make an effort group number three. the ball is in your court!! if what you wanted is confirmation that they are your person you have it, spirit says it will be successful but you need to OPEN UP GIRL, don't be afraid to love, you got this diva.

that's all for your reading my love, i send you lots of love and strength, Nina 🦢⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

[alphabetboyluvr]

the curious lifespan of migrating monarchs - jjk

THE CURIOUS LIFESPAN OF MIGRATING MONARCHS (& other aurelian affairs)

pairing: streamer!jk x international student!female oc (s2l)

warnings: strangers to lovers, clubbing, foul language, alcohol, vaping lol, jungkook is kinda famous, the oc is oblivious, the oc is also a foreign student who has very recently arrived in Korea!! (pls note - while i've been in korean uni dorms, i've never been in yonsei dorms specifically so don't shout at me if it isn't supeeeerr accurate), jaykay is speaking in eng for like 90% of this!!, i've also never watched a gaming streamer and had to do so for research lmao so there's a lot of guesswork going awwwn <3, the oc has tattoos, they bond over this, cute nicknames (tokki and nabi <3), one bed trope?? kinda, jaykay lives w/ yoongi and tae (they are streamers too (and dj?? (tae is a bit unhinged))), jungkook wears calvins!, a singular appearance of yoongi in his boxers!!, tipsy hookup, fingering, protected sex (woo!), desk sex, oral (m receiving), girliepop swallows <3, brief mentions of jungkook's starry eyes, lots of kisses, bunny ears, (1) mention of cross-fit

wordcount: 13011

note from holly: this was a commission done for the lovely Michelle over on my kofi page!! i don't open commissions often, but when I do I'm very lucky that the requests are so much fun. this actually ended up being way longer than it was supposed to be lol and is also available on wattpad!! also fun facts for you - I imagine the boys apartment (and jks room!) to be same as jk + jimins place in BD, just a little bigger lmao

minors dni // cross posted to wattpad

CLUB SUNDOWN WAUSAN-RO, HONGDAE SATURDAY 02:24

Time ceases to exist after the sun goes down in Seoul. It could be two, or it could be five. The only thing that really clues you in on the actual time is the DJ schedule that lights up behind the decks: 02:00-03:00, Blu-Tae.

It's some guy you've never heard of. Looks no older than you. Probably a student, just like the rest of the crowd.

His hair is as blue as his namesake, which does make you smile, and his choices aren't bad either (even if somewhat questionable). You've never heard a jazz remix of Darude's Sandstorm before, and you doubt you ever will again.

Club Sundown is just as rogue as the rest of the city after the sun goes down. Hidden in the basement—like all the best places in Seoul are—the small room is packed to the absolute brim.

Who cares for views and sunsets offered by rooftop bars when you could lose yourself in the debauchery of an eternal midnight, instead?

Drinks are spilt on strangers, and dances have lost the grandeur of old-fashioned waltzes. It's not like you could dance properly, even if you wanted to. There's just simply no space.

Like Alice, you're down the rabbit hole—and oh, how you prefer it to being in the real world. In the shadows, you can be anyone you like.

If you were sober, you'd know this is also the case for daily life. You're in a new country with no ties to your former self. Who you are is who you choose to be.

But the shadows aren't all that dark. The red lights of the club bleed into the cracks, painting everyone in the same subtle hue of danger.

They shine a little light on the identifiers of you; the thin black lines of your patchwork tattoos. Trailing up your arm, they're memories of your past selves, and an indicator of who you hope to become.

"Down this," you say to your dormmate, Rae, handing back over the drink you've just ordered from the bar. "Cloakroom, then dance."

Still carrying your winter coats, you'd wanted to check the place out before committing to it. Entry is free, but the cloakroom is the same price as a drink. It would only be worth putting your coats away if you knew you wanted to stay—and given the fact the DJ was playing O-Zone's Dragostea Din Tei as you entered, you know it's a no-brainer. While his stage name might make you roll your eyes a little, Blu-Tae certainly does cater to your tastes. When you're drunk, and music vibrates through you, it's empyrean. No place you'd rather be.

"Oh, Jesus," Rae gags as she sips the drink you've just handed her. Despite her disgust, she's laughing. Head to toe in black, dark hair loose around her shoulders, she's been your ride-or-die since you arrived in Seoul. Both international students in the same dorm, there's no one you'd rather get up to no good with. "Vodka?!"

You beam at her like you're from the heavens above, wrongfully relegated to the depths of sin. Pretend like you love vodka. It's totally not like you panicked when you saw the menu was all in Korean.

Vodka-coke is a universally understood delicacy—the easiest thing for you to order without making a tit of yourself or butchering the pronunciation. When the bartender ignored your botched attempt at ordering in Korean and answered in fluent English, you'd wanted to melt into the floor. So embarrassing.

You're here, like most foreign students, for a language course. Semester is yet to start, and as much as you've studied and practised hard, it's always different when putting it into practice.

"I'm sorry," you laugh. "It's fine—you can order next time!"

But Rae has the exact same predicament as you. If anything, your language skills are better than hers, so you really have no hope. It's vodka-cokes for the evening, or maybe highballs. Once your tipsy brain manages to compute hangul cocktail names, you'll be golden, but that won't be for another few weeks, yet.

You'll look back at this time of your life fondly, realising how simple it all was, even if it feels incredibly overwhelming right now.

Funnily enough, hope is exactly what you have: for the semester ahead, for this new life you're forging, for the opportunities that may come your way.

In fact, by the time you're on your third vodka coke, you've managed to convince yourself you actually like it. You also can't taste it, thanks to the bartender freepouring a 60-40 ratio of vodka to coke in the first drink. Your tastebuds were wiped out pretty much instantly.

Coats in the cloakroom, you're glad to be wearing thin layers. The room is stuffy; your skin sweaty. While meeting new friends had been the goal, you keep to yourself. Dance like nobody is watching. Hold Rae's hands to stay close and ward off weirdos. Quickly realise that clubs back home are slightly different. Pay it no mind. Ignore the intrusions of hands on waists, because men, disappointingly, are no different.

Or at least most of them aren't.

But most of them don't look like the man in the corner booth, laughing with his friends.

Though he is tall, he's eclipsed by his demeanour. Shoulders broad, he's in a dark T-shirt and pair of jeans. Nothing special. Nothing that warrants such a perplexed stare from you - but he's familiar. You can't place him, but he's got the kind of face you swear you've seen before.

Rae doesn't notice the change in your poise, nor how you're desperately trying to work out where you know him from. Perhaps you've seen him around your university? It's only been a couple of weeks, but people are steadily moving in. Maybe he works at the convenience store you constantly find yourself in? Or mans the front desk of the noraebang you and Rae visit pretty much every other evening?

Impossible, you think. If you'd seen him before, you wouldn't have forgotten him, or the way he constantly toys with his lip rings. Plural. There are signs up around the place stating bar rules. NO SMOKING is rule number three. You've seen his friends pass him over a vape a handful of times. Anyone else, and you'd think it was cringe. Embarrassing.

But in the midst of his laughter settling, and a fresh toke being inhaled, his eyes flicker towards yours.

Perhaps it's just because you're drunk, but you don't avert your gaze. Show no shame. The smile on his lips sinks into a smirk as he exhales. An acknowledgement. A 'hello, trouble'.

Again, any other man, you'd find the vape smoke repugnant. Nasty. Now? Watching the way he flicks his tongue against his lip rings?

You wanna know how it tastes.

Black ink weaves an intricate outline of who he is up his arms. Where he's been. Who he's been. A map, if you will, of his soul.

Much like your own tattoos, he's got thick black lines, and little else. Simple, you assume. A man of convenience. Efficiency.

You wonder if he does everything in life with the precision to match his tattoos, and as your lips wrap around the straw of your vodka-coke, you decide you'd quite like to find out.

Interrupted by Rae pulling you deeper into the crowd, your night is spent in and out of shadows. Attempt subtlety. Try not to make your occasional glances to the corner booth noticeable, just checking if his eyes are still on you. More often than not, they aren't—but sometimes they are, and that's enough to fuel your little flirt.

It's not until the sign behind the DJ booth changes from 03:00-04:00, GLOSS into some other guy that you notice your staring contest opponent has slipped into the shadows himself. The booth is void of both him and his friends. Gone.

"GLOSS has a set at another club," Rae all but yells in your ear, and even then, you barely hear her. "All the hotties left when he did. Let's go."

"Where to?!" You laugh, empty cup in hand. Admittedly, the new guy who's stepped into the DJ booth is just not doing it for you. Blu-Tae was just the right amount of unhinged with classics, whereas GLOSS was definitely cooler, but still fun. Had the club yelling curse words over trap remixes just for the fun of it. This new guy, whose name you don't care to remember, takes himself too seriously, you think.

"It's, like, two blocks down," she yells back, tugging on your wrist to drag you to the stairwell that leads you back up to the streets of Seoul. The hustle and bustle of people trying to go in different directions in the tight place forces you apart, but you figure you'll catch up with her, or that she'll be waiting at the top.

You don't know the roads well enough yet to make it to whichever club it's at alone, and quickly realise when you nearly tumble into the side of a waiting taxi that you're far drunker than expected. Knew the bartender was freepouring, but didn't realise just how free those pours really were.

"Woah, easy trouble," a deep voice sounds from behind you as you're steadied to a more stable position.

"I'm good, I'm good!" You insist, shaking off the hands of your 'saviour'. Have no interest in being a damsel in distress, or some sober guy trying to take advantage of you.

Looking down to check your laces are tied properly, you check over your shoulder to make sure the guy isn't creepily waiting for a thank you that he can turn into an intrusive game of 21 questions—'are you open-minded?' or 'do you live alone?'—but when you glance in his direction, you regret it. Notice the tattoos immediately. Recognise the eyes. Want to die.

"Oh."

"Oh," he says back with a smile, imitating you. Suddenly, the confidence you'd had earlier when looking at him from afar dissolves into nothingness, just like the alcohol in your bloodstream. You feel rather sober, but your body would definitely disagree. "You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," you nod, suddenly a little stuck for words, desperately trying to play things cool. "Are you okay?"

The pouting of his lips as his tongue runs along the inside of his cheek only serves to make you internally cringe. Men who look like him have no business being on streets like this. Should be in a museum. Strung up on the walls with the other masterpieces. Admired by everyone who looks his way.

In a way you don't yet realise, he is.

Though he's not in galleries, he's often burning into people's laptop screens. Is the background of a fair few thousand lock screens. Indeed, he is admired by everyone who looks his way, just not in the traditional sense.

"I'm not the one who just fell into a car," he reminds you, as if you could forget your embarrassment so quickly.

"Was just seeing if you'd catch me," you bullshit, the confidence you usually have returning tenfold. Was just a momentary blip. He's just a man, after all.

"Oh?" He chirps, decidedly curious. "So you fell for me?"

"Stumbled."

"Semantics."

His fluency, and the fact he just said 'semantics' so casually in conversation, clues you in on the fact he might be a language student, too. 

Could be useful study partners for each other, you think, then mentally berate yourself for already masterminding ways to see him again.

"So, where you going?" He asks, not caring to downplay his curiosity. The bartenders were free-pouring his drinks just as severely as they poured yours. The only difference is that his were on the house—'cause you were right. He does have a recognisable face. "Should probably go with you. Make sure you don't fall into the road."

"Stumble," you insist, a little pleased with the boldness of his suggestion, but not wanting to blindly agree. "My friend," you say glancing around, only to find yourself completely alone. "She wanted to go catch the next GLOSS set. So, I guess that's where we're going."

"Just down the road," he says, knowing the schedule like the back of his hand. Bounces from club to club supporting his friends, just like they would for him. If he wanted, he could get a slot up there, too. He doesn't care for it. "I'll walk with you, if you want? My friends are heading there anyway."

It's not a bad offer.

In fact, it's probably the best offer you'll get all night.

"C'mon," he nods his head to the side, encouraging you to follow him. Checks his phone for the time. "Starts in five."

If there's one thing you've indulged in since moving to Seoul, it's how safe you always feel. Security cameras are on every corner, and you've walked home countless times without any issues, even late into the night. While the place isn't perfect, it's far safer than your home country.

Still, you're not a complete idiot.

"It's not wise to follow strange men down dark alleys," you tell him.

He holds out his hand. Waits for you to shake it. Cocks a brow when you hesitate, so introduces himself.

"Jungkook. Nice to meet you. Now, can we please hurry up? I promised I'd be there."

Narrowing your eyes, you don't shake his hand. Arms folded over your chest, there is ice to your exterior, and given how warm his eyes are, you doubt it'll last for very long. May as well keep up this hard-to-get act while you still can.

Walking on past him, you call back, "Alright then. Lead the way."

In the domed mirror meant for reversing cars at the end of a tight alley, you see him laugh. "Wrong way, idiot."

Pausing, you scrunch your face up. Don't turn to face him for at least a second or so—but when you do, you're surprised to see him walking towards you. Hooking his arm around your waist, he carries on walking in the 'wrong' direction, taking you with him.

"Was just fucking with you," he grins. Nods towards a sign by another basement entrance, listing both Blu-Tae and GLOSS.

By the door, Rae is looking around like a mother duck who's just lost some of her ducklings when crossing the road. Breathes a sigh of relief when she spots you.

"C'mon," she grins, then realises who you're with. Says nothing of it, 'cause she doesn't want to be weird, but she recognises him, too. Decides she's just had a little too much to drink. There's no way it's him. Holds out her hand for you.

Reaching out for her, you're let go from Jungkook's grip, ready to get lost in the lights once more.

HAEJANG24 WAUSAN-RO, HONGDAE SATURDAY 05:53

Seoul is a city for the nocturnal. The restaurants and bars are open until the last men are standing. Given how much you've had to drink, you're surprised you still are.

Rae had dipped an hour or so ago. Had hit it off with Mr Blu-Tae himself. Seduced him with the suggestion that their couple name would be Blu-Rae. He'd said they should go to a DVD-bang. Would be fitting. See what Blu-rays were on file.

Naturally, you'd looked on with mild disgust and also admiration for how quickly she'd worked her magic. Everyone knows what goes down in DVD-bangs. Small private rooms, often with projector screens and the world's least comfortable futons, they're somewhere you hope to never end up—but also can't wait to hear all the details the next morning when Rae comes to your room for a debrief.

You'd been left under the surveillance of Jungkook.

"Look after her," Rae had instructed, then narrowed her eyes. "Or I'll destroy your reputation with a single twitter thread, Tokki."

It's a threat he's taken seriously. Knows how the internet works, and even though he's never done anything worthy of a cancellation, he also doesn't intend on starting now. The fact you seem to have no idea who he is during the daylight hours intrigues him. It's a rarity on streets like these.

Even when a few people asked for pictures with him on your walk to the hangover soup place, you didn't clock it as weird. Figured they were friends passing by, wanting to document their chance run-in. Just another memory of the night. The way Jungkook had greeted them was full of warmth, and kindness. Why wouldn't you assume they were mates?

You were also still incredibly drunk at the time, so didn't think to question it. Was keen for food, and Jungkook had insisted on hangover soup, and so that's where you are. Dishes nearly empty, far more of it eaten by him than you, you're laughing about nothing and everything all at once.

"Right," Jungkook declares, deciding he cannot hold in a question that's been tickling at his brain for the entire meal. "What the fuck is that?"

Coat left in the cloakroom, long forgotten about, your tattoos are on full display for him, just like his are for you. Up your arm they trail; a patchwork of teeny tiny identifiers. Latin phrases around skulls, birth flowers of the people you hold close, butterflies and stars. There's an ode to your favourite musician and your favourite Shakespeare quote, too. The fabric of you etched into your skin. There's no reinventing yourself, even half the world away from home.

You know precisely which tattoo Jungkook is asking about. You've asked yourself the same question a few times.

"Fuck off," you laugh.

While most of your tattoos are gorgeous, there's one that was done by a rogue artist on a girlie holiday a few years ago. What was supposed to be a seashell now looks like... well, nothing really. It's just a blob, thanks to the artist being absolutely terrible. The only solace you find in it is that your two best friends have an equally awful permanent reminder of that holiday on their bodies, too.

"It doesn't look how it's supposed to," you explain with a little pout. "I got royally screwed over."

He cocks a brow. You still haven't told him what it is. He isn't gonna ask you twice.

With a grumble, you feebly admit, "A shell."

And then he's laughing. Really laughing. Laughing so hard you think he might piss himself—which you'd actually prefer, because then he could be the embarrassed one, instead.

"I'm calling you Shelly from now on," he says with a broad smile. Has had his fair share of tattoo blunders, and knows you must've developed an affection towards how shitty it is. Would have gotten it covered up, otherwise. "That's incredible."

"You're calling me so such thing," you assure him, but you also can't help but laugh.

"I am," he tells you, then really solidifies it. "Shelly."

"Fuck off," you whine, doubling down. Scanning his arms, you try and pick out anything you can use against him, too. "If I'm Shelly, then you're Mike."

"Mike?!" He protests.

"Yeah," you insist, pointing towards the microphone on his forearm. "Mike."

"You are not calling me Mike. Do I look like a Mike?!"

"Do I look like a Shelly?!"

You've got a point. It's not the name he would have first associated with you - but it is cute, he thinks. Cute how mortified you seem. Cute how you can't help but smile.

After a little bit of back and forth, it's decided that neither of you look like your namesakes.

"Y'know, we kinda have matching tattoos," he says, holding out his arm for you to study. "Or at least, the placements."

And sure enough, below his elbow lives the outline of a bunny sitting on a crescent moon. Holding your own arm out next to his, below your elbow is a butterfly. Above it, is a teeny tiny moon.

Like Jungkook's moon, it's a crescent. Was supposed to symbolise new beginnings. You wonder what his means, but don't ask. Instead, you marvel at the coincidence of it all.

He presses his index finger against the butterfly on the inside of your forearm. The echoing chatter of the restaurant fades softly into nothingness as he says, "Nabi."

You nod. Even if you have spoken with him in English this entire time, it's nice to hear him speak in his mother tongue, no matter how minimal - so you reciprocate. Press your index finger against his bunny. Smile. Say, "Tokki."

It further confirms to Jungkook that you have no idea who he is. Has been a while since he's met a girl in a circumstance like this where that's the case. Likes the anonymity of it all. Is hiding his identity from you, and yet hasn't felt such vulnerability for years.

"Daltokki, right?" You continue, not wanting the silence to linger for too long. "The rabbit in the moon?"

You're not wrong, but you're also not entirely right.

"Yeah," he smiles regardless. "That's it."

JUNGKOOK'S APARTMENT ITAEWON-DONG, YONGSAN-GU SATURDAY 07:12

"Shhh," Jungkook quietly laughs. 

His hand is over your mouth and the other is on your hip as he guides you into his apartment. With your back to his chest, you've both been giggling for the entire ride to his place.

He had insisted that he should walk you home, and was surprised by the offense you seemed to have taken by this. You then told him that he absolutely could not seduce you, and that it was very gender-role-conforming for him to think that you were incapable of getting home by yourself.

"Maybe I should be the one to make sure you get home safely," you had said with a false sense of concern, which had made him laugh quite considerably.

In all reality, you didn't mind him offering to get you home. You just hadn't tidied your room. Didn't really expect to be taking a boy back to your place, much less one that looks like him.

Together, you'd caught the early morning bus over to Itaewon instead of a taxi, 'cause you're still on a student budget and Jungkook wasn't quite ready to blow his cover just yet.

You've been teasing him—questioning his status as a potential International Super Spy—ever since he took your hand and guided you into one of the flashiest apartment complexes you've ever been in. There was security. Doormen. A passcode for the elevator—not to mention that he was heading up to the seventh floor once you were in it. Might not sound like much, but when there are only seven floors to the entire building, it makes it the penthouse by default.

"It's not a penthouse," he'd insisted. "Plus, I live with friends. Only pay a third of the rent."

But a third of his rent is more money than you'll probably see in three months of post-grad work. You're drunk, but you're not stupid. You also know that the rental market here differs significantly from your home country. Monthly rent is cheap, but the deposits are extortionate. Sure, he'll get it back when he leaves, but to have the initial money needed for a place like this? He's not a regular student, if one at all, that much is sure.

"Not sure who's home," Jungkook whispers as you both kick your shoes off in the entryway. Given the looks of the other shoes, it's clear that this is a guys-only living situation. You're proven right when he continues, "Betcha Tae's still in that damn DVD-bang, but Yoongi might be back."

"Yoongi?" You question.

"GLOSS," Jungkook says, remembering how oblivious you are to who he is. Reaching down to grab your shoes, he isn't gonna leave them by the door. Will take them to his room. Doesn't want the boys asking questions, if they are in. Knows they'll just use it as an excuse to publicly roast him whenever they're next online together.

Given that a stream is scheduled for Sunday night, he doesn't want to tempt fate.

Their current choice of wind-up, which the viewers have been eating up, is the joke that Jungkook is a virgin. He's not, but he never knows how to defend himself without sounding like a tool, so always gets a little awkward. A lot of their viewers love it. Join in on the joke. Some take it seriously. He doesn't care.

Next month, Taehyung will do something dumb, and he'll become the favourite joke for a while. Maybe Yoongi. But for now, it's Jungkook.

None of them take it to heart. They're just a group of friends who share their gaming hangouts online, and accidentally made it to the top of the ranks.

They aren't particularly good at gaming, but that's part of the charm. Crescent Collective is how they're known: Blu-Tae, GLOSS and Tokki.

After a bet went wrong, and they all lost, they ended up with moon tattoos and their respective 'symbols'. Jungkook's is a rabbit, Tae's is a blu-ray DVD disk (because he really is committed to the bit), and Yoongi's is stars to symbolise the shine of fresh gloss. Jungkook's makes the most sense. Yoongi's is pretty decent. Taehyung's is just... Well, it's very him.

Sliding open the door into the main living area, Jungkook has to cover your mouth again when you gasp at the sheer size of the place.

"I thought butterflies were supposed to be silent?" He teases. "Quiet for me, Nabi."

His place is bigger than your family home, you think. Hushing you again, he's laughing—and then he's cursing at the sight of a half-naked Yoongi by the kitchen counter.

In his boxers, with half a clementine slice hanging from his lips, he's just as shocked to see Jungkook with you. Gets over it pretty quickly.

"Don't mind me," he says, chewing down on the fruit with a smirk. Looks towards you. "Apologies for the lack of clothes."

With your shoes hooked on his fingers, Jungkook's other large hand is still over your mouth. You're not sure you can form any words as it is, but you do notice the crescent moon and stars on Yoongi's ribs.

"Not a word to Tae," is all Jungkook says. Knows that he'll be in for a world of teasing tomorrow if he gets wind of it. "I mean it."

Holding his hands up, Yoongi's still smirking, but he is backing away into a room just off the kitchen. "My lips are sealed."

Watching as he closes the door, you wonder how much truth is in his words. Jungkook knows it's absolute bullshit. Chooses not to dwell on it. Loosens his grip on you and heads towards his own room. Turns back to check you're following him, and can't help but smile when he knows that you are.

Tossing your shoes just inside the door, Jungkook is quick to pick up a pair of jeans he'd left on the floor, before chucking them over his desk chair. He tweaks his bedding. Straightens it out. Looks a little shy as he turns to face you.

"Made it home safe," he says quietly, as you close the door behind you.

You nod. Keep a little distance. Say, "It's dangerous to sleep after drinking. Make sure you build a tower of pillows in the middle of your bed so you don't roll onto your back."

Both of you are far more sober than you were earlier. There's no need to worry about anything like that.

And yet he nods, now. Says, "You're probably right. You can always stay, though. Just to check I don't die in my sleep, or whatever."

"It'd be the responsible thing to do," you nod, wondering if he can tell just how fast your heart is beating. "But I don't have any pyjamas."

Jungkook swallows. The way he looks at you now is entirely different to how he'd looked at you in the club. Back then, he'd been bold. Flirtatious.

Now, he seems vulnerable. Needy.

"I sleep in my underwear," he tells you, unsure if you'll actually be sleeping. While he likes the idea of fucking you, part of him doesn't want to. Fears it'll ruin the magic of the unknown. The way he throbs at the mere thought of it would suggest that his hopes outweigh his fears. "I don't mind, if you don't."

The clothes Jungkook's wearing are baggy. You've seen nothing of his figure.

Reaching for the nape of his neck, he tugs on the fabric of his T-shirt. Pulls it over his head and discards it in one swift movement. The sound of it crumpling on the floor is abrasive in how it makes you feel. Raw. Unrefined. You suppose it's just a natural consequence of seeing the toned muscles of his chest. How his waist defies what you thought was possible for masculine builds, and how broad his chest is. The indent of his collarbones, and the lines of his pelvis that draw your eyes downwards.

A pair of Calvins peek just above the waistband of his jeans, and a silver chain rests around his neck. Light from the city filters in, and LED lights around his impressive computer set-up paint him in a hue of violet.

"No," you manage to reply, which is a miracle, you think. "I don't mind."

And then you reciprocate. Reach for the hem of your shirt and pull it over your head, letting the fabric fall to the floor. Seeing him swallow back his nerves, or maybe his desires, makes you feel far bolder than you should.

"It's really uncomfortable to sleep in jeans," you tell him.

He nods. Agrees. Threads the button of his trousers through its loop. Doesn't take them off yet. Waits for you to do the same. Keeps his eyes firmly locked on yours. Doesn't let his gaze wander, no matter how much he has to fight all his instincts not to fully take you in. Is still pretending like he doesn't want you in the most indecent of ways.

The room you're in right now is known worldwide. 

People set it as their zoom backgrounds. It's on Pinterest. There are YouTube videos attempting to recreate the set-up. If he were to power up his computer—which, in all fairness, is only on standby—and go live, there'd be a thousand viewers within minutes. Doesn't matter what he plays, or who he's with. He doesn't give it much thought anymore. Is just life.

Sometimes, he regrets not being a faceless streamer, but he also knows that it's part of the appeal. Connection, and the fantasy that comes with this almost dystopian, parasocial idea of it.

After all, the meeting of his eyes with yours across a busy club led you to this point. Human connection in the simplest of ways, that he thinks could culminate in the most complex of ways, too.

"Okay," he says. "So take them off."

"You want me to?" You ask just to tease a little bit, and when a smile flickers onto his seemingly nervous lips, you're glad you did.

"You think we'd be here right now if I didn't?" He says with a tweak of his brows.

"You've got a point."

With that, you push your jeans down and reveal the matching set of black underwear you're in. It's nothing special. In fact, it's not really a set, but it's close enough that it'd fool anyone who didn't know.

Jungkook, in this moment, is indeed a beautiful fool.

There's a lopsided grin on his face as he lets his eyes rake down your body. Is shameless as he indulges in you. Nods, as he bites down on his bottom lip.

"It's cold," you tell him, urging him along a little bit.

"Shit," he says without much thought. "Sorry. Was just... Yeah. Shit."

It's both endearing and wholly confusing how Jungkook flips from confident to cute. A man of duality. It makes you giggle, and then you're the one biting down on your bottom lip. Are both a little bashful. A little shy.

"I'm only here to make sure you don't die in your sleep," you remind him before it goes any further.

Looking at him now, knowing you want him in the worst of ways, it's testing all of your willpower not to just cut to the chase.

Thing is, you liked his company tonight. Want it again. Want to give him a reason to seek you out once more. Want him thinking about you in clubs, and looking for you in crowded bars. Pining. Yearning. Needy.

"It's already gone seven," he tells you, walking towards his bed. Knocks his head to the side. Silently tells you to follow suit. "Will probably only get a couple hours in."

"Better than nothing. Plus, you're actually really irritating," you bullshit as you get into bed with him. Are adamant you won't fuck him, but you do let him pull you in closer.

"Oh, yeah?" He grins.

"Mhmm," you nod, pretending as if you aren't looking at his lips. "You'll be less annoying when you're asleep."

"I'm never gonna sleep again," he assures you. "Will annoy you forever."

"I know where the front door is," you say as you stroke a few of his loose, wavy hairs back behind his ears. They fall freely almost right away, but it just gives you another excuse to play with it "I can just leave. I'm only here to make sure you don't die in your sleep. Pointless if you're awake."

"So I have to be asleep for you to stay?"

"Mhmm," you hum.

He immediately loosens his grip on you and flops into an overdramatic sleeping position. Fake snores. Gets you giggling. Can't hide his smile, either. Laughs through the god-awful noises he's making.

But it is late, and you're both tired. As much as he'd like to stay awake with you, the pull of sleep is just too tempting now that you're beneath his sheets. It's not like he doesn't wanna fuck you. His semi is very much present, but neither of you mention it.

"Y'know what's sad about butterflies?" Jungkook mumbles after the laughter dies down. He carefully begins to trace the lines of your tattoo, eyes entirely focused on the tip of his finger.

You purr a response before you fully vocalise one. "Tell me."

He glances up at you only very momentarily. Looks back down. Is quiet when he says, "How quickly they die. Spend over half their lifespan growing into these beautiful creatures, and then they have, what—A week? Two? Three, tops—and then they're gone. It's like the cherry blossoms in spring. Beautiful, and then—" He clicks his fingers. "—gone."

Stroking back some loose strands of his hair, you wonder if he's thinking about you. About this chance encounter. Beautiful, then gone.

"Just means you have to appreciate them while they're still around," you say softly. "Cherish them, because you know you only have them for a moment."

His gaze lifts to meet yours. The reflection of his LED lights makes it seem like butterflies are floating around in his deep, dark eyes, too.

There are stories he could tell you of ancient folklore; about human souls taking the form of butterflies. Of justice, and peace, and spirits. Of back in time, when tigers still smoked. He could tell you of his favourite butterflies. Of the black butterflies that are as large as his hands in the summer. Of the huge display in a museum downtown that would transfix him as a child.

Instead, he gently presses his lips against the lines of your butterfly tattoo.

The rate at which your heart is beating multiplies. Like a swarm of butterflies chasing through your veins, you've no control over the way you're feeling. He's brought your artwork to life; set the souls inside of your butterfly free, only for it to be apparent that the souls belonged to the both of you, anyway.

You know that this is one of those moments; a butterfly passing on by through your lives. Here, and then gone. Beautiful, but fleeting.

There's a shyness to Jungkook now, as he rolls onto his back. A reluctance to get things wrong. He doesn't look at you, just nibbles on his bottom lip and pretends as if the empty white ceiling ahead of him is the most interesting thing he's seen all night.

It's not.

You are.

You, and those eyes that make him feel like the butterfly on your arm is tickling at his tummy. He finds himself jealous when he faces you again and begins tracing the thin lines of your butterfly once more. Wants to embed himself into you like the ink that's carved out a home in your skin.

"Sorry," he mumbles, seemingly regretful of the tender kiss he'd pressed against your arm just a short moment ago. "Don't know why I did that."

"It's okay," you reply without much thought. Like him, you're letting the way you feel dictate the words you say. Care not for playing coy. "I liked it."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Jungkook wants to stop his mouth from letting his desires escape. The issue is, he drank a little too much tonight and his lips are a little too loose. Too bad. Can't help himself from asking, "Can I do it again?"

You're just as bad.

"Yeah," you whisper. "Please."

The way his lashes splay against his cheeks as he presses another kiss to your arm is nothing short of celestial. Like that damn moon on his arm, he's got a beauty about him that's hard to capture in words. Ethereal feels too fantastical, but gorgeous feels too dense. He resides in a realm somewhere between the two. Somewhere you'd like to stay forever.

Forever, sadly, only lasts a few hours. You've brunch plans with new friends you can't bail on yet for fear of running a friendship before it's even begun.

You see yourself out. Jungkook's still asleep. Not quite 10AM, you've a dozen missed calls from Rae, and a cold can of coke waiting for you in your fridge. Funnily enough, though, you don't really feel hungover. Must have gotten it all out of your system the night before.

It's only fitting, when you think about Jungkook on the subway home, and how soberingly drunk the idea of him makes you feel. 

YONSEI UNIVERSITY DORMS DAESIN-DONG, SEODAEMUN-GU SUNDAY 21:39

Brunch had, predictably, been a yawn-fest.

The people were perfectly nice, but you spent the entire time thinking about Jungkook; how you'd left him in a pretty slumber, the LEDs behind his computer still glowing, with not even so much as a note to say thank you.

It's not like he had any paper on his desk, and you weren't about to start rummaging around his room. You also didn't want to wake him. Part of it was because you knew you'd be saying goodbye, and the concept of that was one that you didn't like all that much.

And so your subway ride back to your dorm had been spent searching his name. He didn't take long to find. 

From the club's Instagram, you found GLOSS and quickly discovered that there was far more to both him and Blu-Tae than just being DJs. Their follower counts were wild. Numbers you know you'll never see on your own account. Verification check marks accented their display names. 

Who are you? You'd thought to yourself, incredibly perplexed by it all.

Jungkook was littered all over their pages, and yet it still took a while for you to click through to his account. You're not sure why, but think that perhaps the unknown was a nice place to reside within. Safer. 

CR3SC3NT_T0KK1 was his username—and curiously, Tokki was also his display name. Brows furrowed, you'd almost dropped your phone when you saw his follower count. It eclipsed both of his friends. 

Filled with gaming set-ups, merch drops, and general life dumps, it was pretty clear that whoever Jungkook had made himself out to be the night before was not who he was in real life. 

Equal parts offended and intrigued, you were only more confused when you saw that Rae was already following him—but not following Taehyung.

"What?" she'd beamed when you'd asked her about it after you'd arrived home from brunch, a scoop of hangover ice cream being waved around in the air with her flamboyant gestures. "He's, like, one of the biggest streamers in the country—and if I want to keep Tae obsessed with me, we need as many connections as possible. Jungkook's a frog to me, baby, not a prince. Don't you worry your little cotton socks. I'm not after him."

"I wouldn't care if you were," you'd blatantly lied in response, and then you'd giggled together at how ridiculous you were both being over boys you didn't really know.

Hovering over the bright purple 'JOIN STREAM' button later that evening, part of you holds back. Think it'd be weird. Strange. That he'd somehow know it was you.

Dipping your mouse, you tick the checkbox to join as an anonymous viewer. Take a breath. Think fuck it. Watch with bated breath as the loading wheel turns—and then he's there.

Jeon Jungkook has the kind of beauty that transcends shitty quality streams. Smiling as he jokes with one of his friends through a headset with a pair of black bunny ears affixed to the top of them, you hear a voice you almost recognise. Notice the friend he's streaming with in the top corner. Realise you do know him, too.

Hair as blue as the trees are green, Tae has just as much boyish charm as Jungkook, but also an incredibly large hickey that seems to match the ones on Rae's neck.

"Nah, can we get an L in the chat for Kook," he's teasing. Sure enough, the chat begins to explode with the letter, and Jungkook looks so pretty when he protests.

"It's not an L!"

"It is!" Tae insists. "Should have seen him, guys. Was following this girl around like a lovesick puppy—"

"No, I wasn't!"

"And she didn't even give him her number. Not even her name!"

"That's not true!" Jungkook whines. He switches between Korean and English with ease, sometimes just single words, other times whole sentences. "I have a name."

"What is it?"

"Not telling you."

"Cause you don't have one!"

"No, because you'll all make my life a living hell," Jungkook laughs—and then notices a bright blue comment lighting up in the chat. His eyes widen. "Fuck."

GLOSS: Was calling her Nabi when he got home last night Almost shit his pants when he saw me

"Yoongi, I'm gonna shave your eyebrows off in your sleep," Jungkook growls—only for the chat to start spamming butterfly emojis. Closing his eyes, he leans back in his chair, the still paused video game long forgotten about, now. Thousands of people are in their chat, and even more are watching the stream.

"Guys, get it trending," Taehyung goads. "Tweet, I dunno, bunny and butterfly emojis."

"Don't do that!"

"Hashtag find Jungkook's butterfly."

"Do NOT do that!"

"I'm like a modern-day cupid," Taehyung beams.

"I'm shaving your eyebrows, too."

Closing the stream, you sit for a moment, mouth ajar, unable to process what on earth you've just witnessed. Part of you feels as if it must have an incredibly vivid daydream; a projection of your heart's desire.

And you know you shouldn't, but when you get home from running errands the following day, you join the stream again. Blush when you notice the chat is still teasing Jungkook.

"I'm gonna block you all," he threatens them with a grin, which only encourages them to send even more butterfly emojis.

The next day is no different, nor the day after that.

He is, though. Has been letting it all play on his mind. Doesn't have much of a filter when it comes to streaming.

"What if she didn't even like me, guys," he whines to the chat. "And sees this and is like... mortified. I think I'd punch myself in the face if she ever saw any of this."

You toy with the idea of sending a comment into the chat. Something that only he'd realise was you. Thing is, you feel bad for intruding. As if you shouldn't be prying. As if you're eavesdropping on him chatting with friends, and not on the stream he's broadcasting live around the world.

Typing out a message, you deliberate your choice.

Punch urself in the face pls, tokki x the message reads. 

Simple. Effective. To the point.

But everyone calls him that, you stupidly realise, now.

And so you change the name to 'Mike'. 

Before you can even really realise what you've done, you've pressed send.

The message flitters into the chat feed. He's about to resume his game. Doesn't notice it at first.

Gives the chat one final glance, and then his eyes widen. He sits up taller. Straighter. "Mike?"

You close the lid of your laptop immediately.

"Fuck."

THE STREETS WAUSAN-RO, HONGDAE FRIDAY 23:51

"Tae is on in five," Rae squeals, dragging you down the road at lightning speed. 

You'd spent far too long at dinner, and also had far too much to drink with your food, so have been forced to make an undignified sprint to the club in an attempt to make it in before the place reaches capacity.

There's already a queue. You can see it from a mile away.

Realistically, Rae could have gotten Taehyung to add her to the guest list. He'd offered. She didn't wanna look needy, so had played it coy about her plans for the evening. 

After a single beer and soju, she'd decided that the idea of him hooking up with anyone but her simply wouldn't do.

"Shit," she sighs in defeat, looking at the queue. The direction you've come from means that you reach the entrance before you reach the queue, but even then, you can tell it goes around the block. "Are there no other clubs these people can go to?!"

There are—but this club is rammed tonight for the same reason Club Sundown was rammed the week before. People want to see the Crescent Collective. 

You didn't realise it at the time, but you'd bypassed the queue of the second club last weekend because Jungkook had been with you.

And as if by a stroke of luck, or perhaps a twist of fate, the same tattooed hand that had held you as you slept last weekend is now putting out a cigarette just a few steps away.

Eyes landing on yours, he looks away again, almost immediately. Feels embarrassed. Stupid. For the way you left him, and also for the way he knows you must know who he is, now.

Behind a red rope, he's away from the general crowd. It's sort of obnoxious, you think—but also know Jungkook is anything but.

"They're with me," Jungkook says to the bouncer, not really looking at you, but nodding in your general direction. Is deliberately keeping a little distance. Instead, he says to Rae, "Tae wouldn't want you waiting in line."

Nodding, the security guard makes way for you, stamping the backs of your hands with UV-activated ink as you walk past.

"Thank you!" Rae beams.

"No worries," Jungkook smiles right back. "He's about to start. Was just getting air. You're lucky you arrived when you did."

"Angel," she praises. "I'll get you a drink while we're in there."

You know her well enough now to know that she absolutely will not, but you don't say anything. Instead, you fold your arms over your chest as you walk, suddenly feeling all awkward in Jungkook's presence.

"Nabi," he curtly greets you as you head down the stairs.

"Tokki," you greet him back just as formally. Consider calling him 'Mike' instead, but you chicken out.

Face scrunching up, Jungkook tries his best not to cringe at himself. Doesn't know if you're addressing him by his tattoo moniker, or just calling him Tokki because you know it's his identifier online.

"How have you been?" He asks, not wanting to let it simmer.

"Alright," you say, aware of how awkward this all feels, as you descend the stairs and into the club. The music is getting louder, and soon you won't be able to hear him talk unless you're in each other's ears. "And you?"

"Alright."

Just as quickly as he appeared, Jungkook is lost to the crowd. 

He doesn't care to stick around if he's just going to be hung out to dry by you again. He tells himself that he only made sure you got in to keep Rae happy for Taehyung's sake—yet as he rejoins his friends in their booth, he finds himself desperately seeking you out again.

It takes him a while, but he eventually spots you by the bar in conversation with Rae. He can't make out what you're saying, but notices how your eyes are flickering around the room. Seems as if you're hunting for something. 

Deep down, even if he pretends like he doesn't, he hopes it's for him.

Pulled away from your search by the bartender passing over drinks to the pair of you, Jungkook feels bad. Knows the drinks are pricey in this place. Also knows, from the conversations you've already had, that you're on a tight budget. Had said that once the semester starts, you'll stop going to parties. Are seemingly unaware of the fact the parties never stop in this city. You'll learn.

When your eyes finally land on his a little while later, you're surprised by his intense gaze—intrigued by his lack of shame for being caught out. He doesn't look away or appear embarrassed. If anything, it's quite the opposite.

Girls are vying for his attention all around him, yet you receive all of it. Half the room away, hundreds of people create a sea between you both. Jungkook thinks he'd swim through it, no matter how choppy the water, if it meant he could have you right now.

You're the one who left, though. 

It's up to you to come back.

Part of you doesn't want to, but then you see another girl making advances, and Rae's horror over other girls trying it on with Taehyung seems to have rubbed off on you. The idea of it makes your skin crawl. You're drunk, and a little reactive, but Jungkook likes playing with fire.

As you work your way through the crowd towards him, he tries his best not to grin. Finds himself vindicated in his desire to be close to you, 'cause it seems like you want it, too.

Sliding in between Jungkook and the girl, you turn and apologise.

"Just need to borrow him for a second," you smile, clutching at his shirt and pulling him away from the booth before she even has a chance to protest.

With an ever-so-satisfied smirk, Jungkook shrugs towards the other girl, and lets you drag him wherever you want. He's putty in your hands, a little tipsy and desperately in need of attention from you. 

For the past week, he's played scenario over scenario over scenario in his head about this moment, and now that it's happening, he's glad he let you seek him out. Is so pleased that you actively want him just as much as he wants you.

In the middle of the crowd, you're hidden from prying eyes. It's too dark to notice any discerning features of the people around you, yet somehow, Jungkook seems like a vibrant golden light to you. Impossible to miss. Unable to ignore.

You wanna talk. Ask him about who the fuck he is. Explain that you didn't mean to leave so heartlessly.

Taehyung's set is so overwhelmingly loud, though. Can barely even hear yourself think.

As soon as he'd spotted Rae in the crowd, Taehyung had sent the bar coordinator to go and get her. She's sitting pretty up in the DJ booth, incredibly pleased with herself. Notices you and Jungkook almost immediately. Knows it'll be on Twitter in the next few hours, especially if that damn butterfly tattoo of yours is noticed.

Bunnies and butterflies have been trending for days.

Jungkook speaks, but you can't hear him.

"Huh?" You ask, getting on your tippy toes, but it's fruitless. Even as his hand drops to your waist to steady you and keep you in place, you can barely make out his words. "I can't hear you!"

He can't hear jack shit, either. Frowns. Looks around. Spots Yoongi by the booth and gestures towards the side of the room. When Yoongi nods back, it's Jungkook who drags you through the crowd, now. Just beyond the DJ booth is a little black door that Yoongi meets you by. Taps in the code. Nods in your direction.

"A pleasure," he says with a knowing smirk. Miraculously, you can hear him, but ultimately, it's because you're not in the direct line of the speakers now.

You don't get a chance to respond before Jungkook gets you into what can only described as a dark hole as quickly as he can. Romance, you think to yourself, but you also are very aware of the fact Jungkook doesn't let go of your hand, even when he's searching for the light switch. It takes him a second, but he manages to recall the approximate location quickly enough.

Dingy yellow light floods into the room. Small and boxy, it's a 3-in-1 storage room, bathroom, and dressing room for 'talent'. It's why Yoongi had the code, but you can't imagine anyone with any shred of self-respect actually using this place. The walls are the same grey tiles as the floor, and the light bulb hangs from a wire without a shade. The tap on the sink drips, and you're pretty sure there's a leak in the far corner by the mirror.

None of that matters, though. All you can focus on is the man in front of you. Though not soundproof, the room does offer a far more muted version of Taehyung's set. More importantly, it provides you with privacy.

It's been a week since you last saw him, face to face.

Though you have, admittedly, seen him what feels like a million times on low-quality streams from his bedroom.

Realistically, it's been about three times, but you think about it almost constantly.

"You left," is all he says, a little pout on his lips.

It's cute, you think, that he is so outwardly offended by such an act. You would have thought that a man of his position would have a habit of leaving, himself. Then again, you didn't know of his status when you left him in bed that morning.

"And you didn't die," you reply with a teasing smile, trying not to make it sound so severe. "You were fine without me."

"I'm not joking," he says, even if he can't help but smile at the recollection of how stupid the conversation before bed had been. "You left. It was rude."

"I had brunch plans," you tell him, reaching your hands out for his. He wants to resist. Fails. Lets you pull him closer. Incredibly close, in fact. So close that you begin to notice all sorts of things. His freckles. A small scar on his cheek. A tiny fleck of glitter on his skin, no doubt from one of the girls who had been desperate for his attention earlier. "You'd only had a few hours sleep. I didn't want to disturb you."

"Could have left a note," he says, still pouty but far quieter. You can smell the Jack on his breath. Have always hated the taste, but think you could grow to like it. "Your number. Something, at least."

"I could've," you admit, edging even closer. Closing the gap. Nudging your nose against his. But then you smile. Pull back. Tease, "And you could have warned me that I'd become a trending topic on Twitter."

Just like that, Jungkook's pout snaps into the prettiest smile. His face scrunches up, lines creasing on his nose. Beneath his closed eyes reside the sweetest little puffs. He's got the kind of face that is impossible not to like.

"Ah," he cringes.

"Yeah," you laugh at the stupidity of it all. What did he expect? That you wouldn't find out? "Ah."

"In my defence," he holds his hands up, eyes wide and innocent. "You called me Tokki. How was I to know you didn't know?"

"Oh, give over," you laugh, as he reaches for your hands once again. Pulls you closer. "You know I didn't know."

Truthfully, he does know this, but it was nice to be unknown for a little while. Nice to not second guess your intentions. Even now, knowing that you know, he feels like none of it matters. 

"Look," he begins, toying with the hem of your cropped shirt. Lets his fingertips graze your bare skin. Tries his best not to think about what you look like half-naked. Fails. "I only came out tonight 'cause I hoped I'd see you. I don't care about staying out till ass-o'clock, again."

"Think I've only just caught up on sleep," you hum, angling your chin up and giving him the perfect opportunity to make a move that goes beyond flirtatious touches.

"Exactly," he smiles, letting his hand squeeze the side of your waist. Pulls you closer. "And I've not drunk half as much tonight, but I think I could do with you making sure I don't die, again."

"Yeah?"

Nodding as he nudges his nose against yours, Jungkook is all smiles. Lets his lips line up against your pout.

"Yeah," he mumbles—then lets the word get lost in your lips.

Sinking into what it feels like to kiss you, Jungkook can't help but feel satisfaction. Has finally caught the damn butterfly he's been after all week. 

He's played a lot of games. Won a lot of battles.

And yet victory has never tasted so sweet.

JUNGKOOK'S APARTMENT ITAEWON-DONG, YONGSAN-GU SATURDAY 02:07

You retrace your steps. Get a taxi to his place, 'cause there's no point pretending like he can't afford it. Not anymore.

You're not giggling like you were the first time you were in his elevator, but it's kind of impossible to do so when your back is to the wall and Jungkook's tongue is in your mouth.

Your hands roam his body—waist, ass. If you can squeeze it, you will. Just makes him deepen the kisses. If his large hands weren't cupping your jaw, keeping you close, they'd be doing the exact same thing as yours.

The ding of the elevator pulls you apart just for a second, and then you're the one pulling him down to the corridor to his place.

He doesn't open the door. Just kisses you again. 

Finally understands what it means to get butterflies, 'cause he's got you, now, and he never wants to lose it.

Hooking his hands beneath your ass, he hoists you up. Gets your legs wrapped around him. Could go in, but where's the fun in that? There's a slight danger of getting caught. He knows the hallway security cameras will definitely pick this up. The threat that it could get leaked online, and the simple fact that he couldn't give a shit if it does, is kind of hot.

"I'm not fucking you out here," you tell him through a hushed giggle, when he rests his forehead against yours.

"Woah," he jokes. "Who said anything about fucking?"

"I can literally feel your boner, Jungkook."

"Touché."

He doesn't even attempt to downplay it. He puts you down. Gets you through the threshold of his apartment. Shoes off by the door, there's no need to be quiet. Yoongi and Taehyung are still out, and will be for hours. He could take his time if he really wanted.

But what he wants is you. Doesn't waste time. Gets you in his room. Kinda feels like you never left. Jungkook still wishes you hadn't, but doesn't mind the idea of you making it up to him now.

"So," you hum, trailing your fingertips across his desk. "This is where the magic happens?"

He smiles a little bashfully, head dropping for a moment before his eyes are on yours again. "Yeah. You could say that."

Now that you're back in his space, it's a little embarrassing just how many clues there were. A headset rests on the desk—black, robust, with his signature bunny ears secured on top—and a mic is hooked up by the monitor. The webcam doesn't look special, but the keyboard subtly glows in his darkened room. Violet, like the LEDs behind his screen.

A laptop covered in vinyl stickers is closed next to the set-up. He uses it when he's not streaming on his desktop. At least three of the stickers are of the Crescent Collective's logo.

Turning to fully face him, you rest your palms behind yourself and perch on the edge of the desk.

He gets a little kick out of seeing you so flippantly disregard the domain in which he dominates. Gives him a point to prove. Gets him closing the space between you, hands on your waist, dipping to your ass to leverage further back on his desk. Knows it's sturdy, 'cause he built it himself, but has never tested out quite how strong it really is. Thinks now's as good a time as any to find out.

Your legs wrap around his body with no thought, just the innate understanding that you want him in a way you're sure thousands of people have only dreamt of: in his room, on his desk, that damn 'Go Live' button just a few short clicks away.

Reaching beside you, there's a smirk on your lips as you retrieve his headset. Put it on him. Say, "The ears are cute, Tokki."

He rolls his eyes. Is fighting a smile, and currently losing. He's seen some lewd shit during his time on the internet and is well aware of the fanart that includes the ears and little else. Always found it kinda funny, before.

Now? He's so hard it almost hurts, and he thinks he could grow to like it.

As your arms drape over his shoulders, he takes them off. Puts them on you, instead. Adjusts the sizing. Gets them just right for you. Is attentive, like that. Pulls his head back a little, and then realises what a problem you're gonna be for him.

It's not so much the addition of animal ears that's getting him insatiable, but seeing you adorned with a crown that is so inherently his that does it.

Jungkook's no saint. He's had his fair share of one-nighters. A couple hours of fun never to be spoken of again. Since the group of them signed to their management agency, they've been repeatedly told how important it is to get NDA's signed. Something about it always feels so icky to Jungkook. Cruel, almost. Has only had a couple hook-ups since then, both with flings he's known for a good couple of years, with no fear of them spilling the beans on how prettily he whines when he cums.

You're the first new girl in a long time. He knows he should really pause things before you cut to the chase—but then your hand is trailing down his thick forearm, delicately stroking his rabbit moon with a curious smile. Decides he doesn't care.

"The ears are cute," he replies. Teasingly adds, "Nabi."

The position of your arms over his shoulders ensures the tattoos he'd traced the week before are fully displayed for him. As his eyes drop to your butterfly, you're curiously smitten by the way his lips move to press a kiss against it again.

"Suit me?"

"Mhmm," he hums, eyes flickering back up to yours. "Should also get you a pair of butterfly wings, or something."

"I'd make you wear them," you tell him with a cheeky glint in your eye. "Turn you into a butterfly, yourself. Your girlies in the chat would love that."

Jungkook knows without a shadow of a doubt he'd let you. Not for the girlies in the chat, but for you.

Ghosting his lips against yours, he's waiting for you to press down. Is letting you take the lead.

Your kisses are sweet. Tepid. Reserved.

You're feeling; his hands on your waist, the pressure of his lip rings, the presence of his nose.

And then he's feeling; your bare skin as his large hands slip beneath the fabric of your shirt, the way your legs wrap around him, the vibration of a small groan against his lips.

The skirt you're in is bunched around your hips, and the positioning is just right for you to feel how hard he is against your underwear. It's a little undignified, you'll admit, but you're impatient, so you take control. Reposition his hand between your legs. Encourage him to take things further.

"Yeah?" He checks.

Nodding into a needy kiss, you mumble, "Please."

It might've been a while, but Jungkook's muscle memory is enviable. He's the best player on the team for that very reason.

As he hooks your underwear to the side, he's pleased to be greeted with indications of your arousal. Smirks into the kisses he's giving you, as his fingertips graze against your clit. Trails his lips to your neck. Wants to hear the way you gasp as he pushes his thick middle finger inside you.

"Fuck," you sigh at the welcome intrusion. Nod, as he curls his finger almost immediately. He's got a lot to thank those damn video games for, that's for sure.

Softly moaning, just how he hoped you would, there's an arch to your back as he picks up a pace. The need to perform, almost.

Head tipping back as Jungkook fucks another finger into you, you're unable to think too cognitively. Can only think about the way he feels. The smell of his hair as he presses kisses against your neck, and how prominent his collarbones are as your nails trail up his toned torso.

"Feels so good," you tell him. Move the hand of yours that's been resting on his shoulder to his hair. Tug on it a little. Elicit the prettiest of whines from him.

There's something to be said for making a man—especially one of such strength, stature, status—so weak. Gets you all giggly. Jungkook can feel the satisfaction ripple through your entire body, and it just makes him groan against your neck even more.

"You're so wet," he praises, pulling back to study your face as he plays with you. Lets his thumb stroke up against your clit ever so gently. Revels in the way you get a little shaky. Twitchy. With those damn bunny ears, you really are like a little rabbit. Jungkook finally understands why the fan artists choose to draw him in such a way. It is hot. "You're making me so fuckin' hard."

And then you're giggling again.

"Is it a joke to you, huh?" He smirks. Looks down at your pussy, all swollen and sopping wet for him, in the hazy violet light of his room. Knows that his throbbing cock is gonna stuff you so fuckin' full that laughing won't be an option. Is desperate for it. "How badly I want you is just a big joke to you, huh, bunny?"

The way he groups you in with his moniker is too damn hot.

"Dunno," you rasp, desperately trying to hold off the orgasm that's building inside you. "Fuck me and find out."

Reaching for the button of his trousers, you're quick as you wrestle his jeans down over his ass. Don't bother pushing them down entirely. Just enough to get his boxers exposed, and in turn, his thick cock. Hard and engorged, his desperation for you is evident. A small patch of precum seeps through the fabric of his boxers. He curses as your thumb strokes against it.

"Condom?" You ask, knowing you've got none on you.

"Hold that thought," he says, regretfully pulling away from you.

Watching on as he pushes down his jeans, and strips himself of his shirt, you're at a loss for words. You've seen him like this before, but it's so much hotter knowing that he's gonna be fucking himself into you as soon as he possibly can.

Jungkook could very easily lead you to his bed. Get you comfy. Reach to his bedside cabinet for a condom. Fuck you how he likes—doggy-style, minimal face-to-face contact—and be done with it all very quickly.

Instead, he says, "Stay here."

Doing as you're told, you watch on as he walks to the cabinet, and retrieves a condom. Admire his back, and his broad shoulders. The valley of his spine, and the hard work he's put into crafting his physique. Smirk to yourself as he dips into his boxers. Strokes himself. Once, twice. Tears the packet open with his teeth, just like you were always taught not to do, and rolls the latex down his thick shaft.

"What?" he smirks as he walks back, realising your eyes are transfixed on his cock.

You say nothing. Smile. Hold your hands out for Jungkook to take, just so you can pull him back even quicker.

Lips pressing into yours as he closes the gap, Jungkook is all smiles. Rubs the head of his cock against your pussy, gathering up your arousal all over his tip. Lines himself up with your entrance. Waits for you to give him the go-ahead.

Hand on his ass, you pull him closer. Edge the crown of his cock into you. Whimper. Beg. "Please."

Sinking into you with a laboured grunt, he's surprised with how much tighter you are around his cock than you were with his fingers. Wet and warm, there's an undeniable pleasure that sparks through his body as he gets familiar with the way you feel.

Slowly, his hips begin to pick up a pace. As his tongue strokes into your mouth, there's no dignity to the way he's taking you. The increased pace means heightened moans, and it's not just you—it's him, too.

"Shit, yeah," he grits. "So fuckin' tight, aren't you?"

Whining, you nod into his kisses. Are at his entire disposal as he grips your waist, proving exactly why Tokki is the perfect nickname for him.

As much as he likes the ears, he's a little worried that he might fuck you so hard they fall off. Doesn't wanna break them, and definitely doesn't wanna think about the story the boys would make up when they go live tomorrow to tease him—but also really wants to fuck you harder.

Which is funny, cause the way he tugs them off with such desperation and tosses them down, you'd be forgiven for thinking he couldn't care less about breaking them. Doesn't give you a chance to say anything, 'cause his big hands are cradling your face, bringing you in for desperate kisses once more.

There's a lewdness to the sounds you make together, but Jungkook knows that if he was an entirely different kind of streamer, you'd make bank together. Wonders about the way it would look on camera. Worries. Pauses.

"You good?" You check a little breathlessly as he reaches behind you, just to tug the wire to his webcam from the plus.

"Yeah," he nods, still fiddling around behind you. Smiles in the hedonistic haze as your lips find a new home on his neck. Strokes your hair gently, and presses a kiss to the side of your head. Quietly says, "Just making sure there's no way in hell I accidentally start streaming."

You hum, all purry and pliant. "People would pay good money to see it."

While he agrees, and has had the same thought process, he doesn't care. "You saying I should be charging you for this?"

"Oh, no," you say all very sweetly. "You should be paying me."

"I'll pay you with orgasms," he promises, knowing that it's a rare currency for one-night strands.

You smirk. Pat the top of his head. "Sure you will."

If there's one thing Jungkook loves, it's a challenge.

Pulling back, he turns you around. Gets you bent over his desk with zero opposition from you. Rubs himself against your soaked cunt, then asks, "Yeah?"

"Yeah," you smirk, and then settle into a sigh as he pushes into you. The feeling of fullness from Jungkook is one that's hard to compare. So thick, and fat, and heavy, his cock really is just as impressive as he is.

With one hand hooked at the crease of your thigh, the other holds the top of your shoulder. Gets you pushed down onto his cock as far as you possibly can be. There's a slight reflection in his streaming plaque beside the monitor, and you're pleased to see just how intensely focused he is on you, brows furrowed, pretty pink lips resting ajar. The silver of his lip rings and chain catch in the light, and you find you can't look at him for too long. He's too hot.

But then he's reaching down for your clit as he fucks into you. Has your legs shaking. The waves of a familiar sensation begin to lap against the shores of your pleasure.

"Fuck," you whine. "Feels good. Keep it like that."

Jungkook knows better than to ignore your requests. Does as he's told, the pressure of his fingers on your clit only deepening. Rubbing calculated circles against you, he knows just how to work you up. Gets you whining. Mewling. Moaning.

"Gonna cum, aren't you?" he smirks, as his own high builds.

"Fuck—"

"C'mon," he husks, feeling your walls tighten around him. He doesn't stop his relentless chase. Will win your orgasms fair and square. Continues pounding into you. Pace fast, strokes deep, he's everything you could ever want and more—and then he's slowing. Keeping you plugged, nice and deep, but focusing on the way he's toying with your clit. "You know you wanna cream for me. All over my cock, pretty Nabi. C'mon—"

"I'm close," you all but whimper. "So—fuck. So close."

"Yeah, you are," he tells you—and then your legs are shaking, pussy tightly clamping around his cock, one hand tense against his desk while the other grabs at his wrist. Uncontrollable, is the way you whine for him. It's so needy—so desperate and pathetic—that it's almost a sob. Jungkook doesn't ease up. In fact, his hips gain a little pace again as your orgasm shatters around you both. He's breathless, but manages to choke out, "Flithy fuckin' cunt. Feels so fuckin' good. Fuck."

The frail limpness of your body as the orgasm smokes away is cute. Jungkook loves it. You're so weak for him. He fucks into you still, chasing his own high, and your whines only get louder. It's overwhelming, but you never want to lose the feeling.

It doesn't take much. Just a minute or so of your tight cunt, and Jungkook is pulling out. Even though he doesn't ask you to, you get to your knees as he tears the condom off.

"In my mouth," you beg, and who is he to reject such an offer?

Jerking himself to completion, Jungkook is all pretty and pathetic when he cums, too. Looks at you with eyes so starry you'd been forgiven for thinking he was a descendant of the constellations.

He milks the final few spurts of himself onto your wet tongue, and curses when you press dainty kisses to his tip. Stroking your tongue against him, you don't want to waste a drop. Look up at him and find that his eyes are resting shut from the pleasure of it all.

Silence surrounds you both, just your beating hearts and laboured breaths filling to the room. He helps you up. Holds you tight. Hugs you for a little while, then presses a kiss to the side of your head. "Thanks."

"My pleasure," you giggle - and then he's smiling, too. Feels vindicated by his irrational thoughts about you over the last few days. He pays no mind to the fact you're still technically dressed, and he's basically naked.

As he sorts himself out, you perch back up on his desk and languidly swing your legs. Enjoy the thought of memories plaguing him whenever he tried to play his little games over the next few days.

"You wanna grab a shower?" he offers. "Food, too? Dunno about you, but I'm fuckin' starving."

"Same," you nod, biting down on your bottom lip. "I'll go wash up, you sort food? Are places still open for delivery?"

Checking his phone for the time, Jungkook is surprised that it's closer to midnight than it is to his morning alarm. Only a handful of places will offer delivery at this time, but that's enough.

"Works for me," he says with a yawn, then opens what you had assumed was the closet door. Reveals an en-suite and knocks his head to the side. "Get your shower. Gimmie a shout if you need anything."

Tiles large and grey, it's the perfect counterpart to his bedroom. A little dark, but it's only because Jungkook hates using the big light. Always flicks the small light switches instead. There's a window overlooking the city, and even though you're only seven floors up, the hills of Yongsan-gu mean that he's got a view you could only dream of.

You're about to start the shower up when he calls through. "Is pizza good?"

"Pizza's good," you call back with a smile. Look yourself in the mirror and wonder how the fuck you ended up in the bathroom of arguably the most famous person you've ever met. Decide it's better not to question it.

The shower begins to cascade down, even if your sins are washed way, you know you won't be able to forget the feeling of Jungkook so easily.

Truth be told, you won't even try.

YONSEI UNIVERSITY DORMS DAESIN-DONG, SEODAEMUN-GU SUNDAY 21:13

"L in the chat," booms the voice of Taehyung through your laptop speakers. His trademark grin rests on his face as he teases Jungkook.

You've only just opened the stream. Instantly, you focus on the prettily lopsided smirk of Jungkook's lips. You've learned it's an almost permanent fixture on his boyish face. Shaking his head, he's adjusting his headset. Making it a little looser so that it'll fit him properly.

No one is questioning it.

What they are questioning, is where the fuck that pretty purple bruise on his neck has come from.

"Cross-fit," Jungkook just shrugs, knowing that it's the colloquial term for suspicious bruises after some idol used the same excuse. Blatant horseshit. Jungkook doesn't care.

"I've never done cross-fit, but I know you're bullshitting," Taehyung snorts.

The chat seems to agree with him.

"Thought I was a virgin?" Jungkook states a little cheekily, making reference to Taehyung's usual banter. "How else would I get one?"

Taehyung knows better than the retort. Knows that Jungkook could very easily slip something about Rae into the conversation.

Virgin? You type through a message on a private discord chat with Jungkook. He'd set it up the day before. Has already sent you, like, a thousand messages. Is what can only be described as obsessed—but it's mutual. Could have fooled me.

As his eyes glance down to his laptop screen, he fails to hide his smile. Had opened your chat on there, cause he didn't wanna accidentally broadcast the messages onto his stream. Despite this, he doesn't care that there are nearly 10,000 people in his stream merely minutes into it. Is far more interested in his chat thread with you. Replies immediately.

Stop distracting meI'm working</3

Giggling as the message pings through to you, there's a giddy quality to the way Jungkook makes you feel.

He'd spent the day in bed with you after your night together. Had wanted you to stay when he started streaming that evening. Said he'd only be an hour or so, and was incredibly pouty when you did leave.

It had just been him on last night's stream—headset off 'cause he didn't wanna adjust it back yet, hoodie on to hide his neck. The other boys were nursing hangovers, so he could do what he liked.

What he did do had you incredibly curious. Was just chatting. Talking to the comment section. Sleepily reeling off facts he'd recently learned about butterflies. Debating over their lifespan.

You're not naive to the fact that Jungkook does this streaming stuff as a profession, and are aware that the more people talking about his stream on other platforms, the more viewers he'll get.

Made sense for him to add fuel to the butterfly-related fire by talking about them.

Had sent you a message earlier that evening to ask what kind of butterfly you had on your skin.

A Monarch, you'd told him.

"See, the thing is," Jungkook had rambled to his viewers a little later on. "Most butterflies have super short lifespans—Monarch's included."

Eyes all starry, lights in his bedroom purple as per usual, he'd looked cosy. You wished you'd have stayed.

"But there's a specific kind. Migrating Monarchs. They're the last of their generation—the final butterflies of the year," he marvelled at the magic of it all.

His facts were a little hazy, but he knew enough. Had been down a you-shaped rabbit hole all afternoon.

"And they migrate, right? Move away from home—somewhere warmer—and then it just extends their lifespan. 180 days. Not 30. That's six months. Six months. It's a long time. It's not fleeting. Not in the slightest."

It's also, curiously, exactly how long you're scheduled to stay in Korea for.

"I dunno," Jungkook had just sighed, a little forlorn, trying to make sense of his thoughts.

He bit down on his bottom lip, stroking his thumb against the hard plastic ears of his headset, then focused on the camera again. Wondered if you were watching. 

He simply shrugged. Said, "Counts for something, though, right?"

[mymercyprevailss]

i carry all of my past selves with me. i protect them. i talk to them. i think i'm starting to forgive them.

[hoe4hotchner]

Smooth talker [D.M]

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝙳𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚔 𝙼𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚊𝚗 𝚡 𝙵𝚎𝚖!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 𝟿𝟺𝟼 𝙲𝚆: 𝙼𝚒𝚕𝚍 𝚏𝚕𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚢 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝙶𝙽 𝚎𝚡𝚌𝚎𝚙𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝙳𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚔 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝙱𝚊𝚋𝚢 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕, 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗.

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            The sun was bright, almost blinding as Derek stood in the park, squinting against the golden rays that filtered through the trees. He was out for a casual jog, trying to enjoy a rare day off. But then, he saw you. At first, you were just a figure in the distance, blending in with the hustle and bustle of people moving about their day. But something about you caught his eye - something familiar, though he couldn't quite place it.

            He slowed down, heart picking up a different kind of pace as he watched you walk past. You were absorbed in your own world, oblivious to the people around you. And that’s when it hit him.

            He had seen you before. Maybe not here, maybe not now, but in some way, in some other time or place, maybe even in some other life - you were familiar to him. He couldn’t shake the feeling. He had to know who you were.

            With a deep breath and that signature Derek Morgan confidence, he jogged over, catching up with you easily. "Excuse me," he called out, his voice smooth and warm.

            You turned around, slightly startled but curious. Your eyes met his, and for a moment, everything around you seemed to fade away. Derek flashed a charming smile, the kind that could melt anyone’s defenses.

            "I know this is going to sound crazy, but... I feel like I've seen you before." His tone was easygoing, but there was a sincerity in his eyes that made you pause. "Do we know each other?"

            You shook your head, giving him a polite smile. "I don't think so."

            Derek chuckled, running a hand over the back of his neck. "Yeah, I figured. But it’s like... I can’t help but feel like I know you. Maybe not in the 'we’ve met before' way, but something about you… it’s familiar."

            You raised an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at your lips. "You use that line on everyone you meet?"

            His grin widened. "Nah, just the ones I don’t want to forget."

            You laughed, rolling your eyes, but you couldn’t help but feel a little charmed by him. There was something about Derek, something in the way he carried himself with confidence, yet still had a softness in his eyes when he looked at you.

            “Okay, Mr. Smooth Talker, what’s next? You gonna ask me for my number?”

            He smirked, stepping a little closer, his voice dropping just slightly. "Actually, I was thinking something a little better and slower. How about I take you somewhere - just you and me?"

            You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden offer. "And where exactly would that be?"

            Derek's gaze softened as he leaned in just a little more. "Anywhere, baby girl. Somewhere quiet, somewhere we can talk and get to know each other. Somewhere I can show you I’m not just another guy throwing out lines. I’m the real deal."

            You felt your heart skip a beat at the intensity in his eyes. You had heard the compliments before, you had been approached by guys with their rehearsed lines, but there was something different about him. Something genuine, something that made you want to listen, despite your past experiences.

            "How do I know you’re not just like all the other men around here?" you asked, teasing but with a hint of seriousness.

            Derek chuckled, shaking his head. "You’ll just have to trust me on this one. I don’t play games. What you see is what you get."

            You hesitated for a moment, your gaze locking with his. Time seemed to slow down, the noise of the park fading into the background as his words settled in your chest. He wasn’t just saying it to be smooth - he meant it. You could feel it.

            "And what if I say no?" you asked, though there was a playful glint in your eyes.

            Derek smiled softly, his hand reaching out, brushing gently against your arm. "Then I’ll keep trying because I don’t think I can just walk away from you. Something tells me... you’re worth the wait."

            You bit your lip, fighting back a smile. He was good - really good. But more than that, his words were so sincere that you couldn’t ignore them.

            "Alright," you said finally, "take me somewhere. Surprise me."

            Derek's smile lit up his entire face, his eyes twinkling with excitement. "You won't regret this," he promised, his voice low and smooth, sending a warm shiver down your spine.

            He led you out of the park, and for the next few hours, it felt like time didn’t exist. You walked through the city streets, talking about everything and nothing. Derek had a way of making you feel like the only person in the world, like every word you said mattered.

            At one point, you both found a quiet spot by the water, sitting on a bench, watching the sun dip lower in the sky. Derek turned to you, his gaze softer now, more vulnerable.

            "I gotta admit," he said, his voice a little quieter, "I wasn’t expecting to fall this fast. But there’s something about you... something real."

            You looked at him, feeling that same pull, that same connection. "You’re not like the others," you said softly, echoing his earlier words.

            Derek smiled, his hand brushing against yours as he leaned in slightly. "I don’t want to be. I want to try... if you’ll have me."

            Your heart fluttered at his words, warmth spreading through your chest. There was something undeniable about him, something that made you want to take the leap.

            With a shy smile, you nodded. "I think I’d like that."

Consider linking or reblogging if you enjoy my work

[marymary-diva17]

Broken mask

Jake x reader x neytiri

The exo mask is a fundamental devices that was needed by all the humans, who were on pandora. As human couldn't breath the air on pandora, as told before and one without a mask it could end horrible. One wrong mistake could result in have a hard time breathing and tragic faith in the end, if the mask was not given in time. So what happens when the incident befallen someone.

Y/n " ......." you are walking in the human base hallways towards the door, it had been some time since you and other humans had set up camp here.

norm ' good morning y/n heading off to see the kids and your spouse"

y/n " yes I would use my avatar body but that was no go for max, as him and his team are still setting up the links"

norm " yeah it sucks now most of who use our avatar bodies are stuck as humans"

women " the metekayian not seem like big fans human right now thanks to the RDA, being their greedy and cruel selves as well"

man " I have to agree even as well we can't blame them for how they feel about us, it had taken some time for few forest clans to trust us after battle"

y/n " yes but if we do our best and not cause any trouble we will be good, and maybe in time they will trust to be around us"

norm " y/n is right we use need to wait and see we have also have enough mask and oxygen packs to last, for a long time so no need to worry"

y/n " yes but still be careful everyone on break or the mask ripped off we are in trouble, even when the oxygen pack messed with as well would be bad"

women 2 " got it but we of have the new devices that we all carry, that will help us breath if anything happens"

norm " but it sucks that it only last for short while not long enough"

man 2 " we can make ones that last longer later on"

y/n " we have done well we will discover more solutions later on as we have gone, like we have done in the past" everyone had nodded their heads, once that was over you soon left the base and started heading towards the village.

????? " mama" you had looked up to see tuk standing around, with some kids you had know from the clan along with some reef kids as well.

y/n " hey baby girl"

tuk " you are here"

reef girl " she your mama but I thought your mama is navi like you"

tuk " oh she is but she a dream walker she my mama as human and navi"

reef kids " ohh"

y/n " what tuk says is true I'm human still but have an avatar body as well, that makes me navi like you all"

reef boy " so tuk has two moms and dad"

y/n " yes she does and the same is for her siblings as well mostly, so what were you kids doing anyways"

tuk " we are going for a swim mama over there and there, are some sea otters that we want to see as well"

y/n " well you say in eye of the village tuk tuk and that goes for all of you kids"

tuk " yes mama"

kids ' yes y/n"

y/n " you are free to go now have fun" the kids soon cheered and ran off together leaving you standing there smiling at the whole situation. You soon started walking once again hoping to to run into your older kids and spouses as well.

????? " here caught this"

????? " you sykwang you tossed it to far" When someone came dashing by you along and soon jumped into the water, after doing a spin. It had taken you not the long to see it was lo'ak as you look at him, wonder where he had came from anyways.

lo'ak " come on lets go get it ... oh hey mama"

y/n " hello my son so what are you and other kids playing"

lo'ak " well you see we are trying to see which ones of us has the best moves, sorry about that mama I didn't mean to come out of anywhere like that"

y/n " it okay"

kiri " hey mama"

y/n " hello my daughter it good to see you where is your other brother and cousin"

neteyam "we are here mama"

spider " hey aunt y/n"

y/n " hello kids so how the game going"

kiri " it will going well it seems like our team is in the lead"

lo'ak " forest navi for the win"

aonung " this game is very fun"

tsireya " yes I have to agree and we can alos play it in the water as well"

rotxo " good morning y/n"

y/n " good morning childern I happy to see you are getting along well, like the younger kids"

neteyam " we had the day off our yes dad and mom are not here at the moment, as they went with tonowari and ronal to see the other clans leaders"

y/n " oh well I see them later on today"

lo'ak " will you be heading back to the base right away"

y/n " no I will not I will spending some time out here relaxing and collect data as well"

spider " cool will my dad being around as well"

y/n " he will be out soon when he can"

spider " I understand"

aonung " hey let go back to the game I want to see what other moves you forest kids can do"

y/n " have fun kids but please stay in sight of the village and safe"

kids " yes ma'am" the group had soon taken off leave you alone on the sandy beach, as you are collect some data and enjoying some relaxation as well.

tuk " mama we need help"

y/n " what the matter tuk tuk"

tuk " well there was some rocks we had been standing on when a wave had crashed against us, sending us falling down we got scarps on us"

y/n " oh yes I can see that"

little reed girl " that healers seem to be very busy and our parents, are not around right now"

tuk " don't worry my mama can help us right mama"

y/n " yes I can come over here and I will help you all" you had spray on that that had helped heal, injuries on the kids or help healed them half away. There had bene some homemade bandage places on the kids as well to heal with the healing.

reef boy " how did you do that"

y/n " well this spary here has healing herbs that are suitable for everyone, but you still need to be careful as the cuts will hurt if they do go visit ronal"

reef girl 2 " okay you are an wonderful healer"

tuk " my mama is a healer she used to heal many of clan members"

forest girl " yes y/n is a good healer she has helped us feel better, when we had been sick due to a flower"

forest boy " she has even received praise from moat as well"

reef boy 2 " thank you"

y/n " your welcome and please tell your parents of what had happened today, so they can make sure you all are okay later on today" the kids had nodded their heads and soon took off, still enjoying the wonderful day.

sometime later

y/n " maybe I should make some lunch for me and the kids..."

????/ " human women" you had heard someone yelling gaining your attention, as you saw a women walking towards you and she was mad.

female navi " I'm speaking to you"

y/n ' umm hello there"

female navi " you decide to harm my sister son you demon women"

y/n " wait no you misunderstand the situation"

y/n " no please let talk about this"

male navi " this is the women the child talked about" a male navi soon showed up with his spear, and he was mad as well.

male navi " I will make you pay for your actions against the boy and all the other clan children, you and the rest of your kind are a bad omen on us all" the man had swings his spear at you making you run away, from him as she was chasing you. He had tossed his spear as she glazed your arm and leg, making you fall down in pain.

y/n " ahhh" there is so much pain rushing throat your body as you look at the pair, the man had grabbed his spear and swag it again hitting your arm as you tried to protect yourself. There had been some damaged you had gotten as well.

male navi " this is for the sake of my family and clan....." the man had soon been tackled to the ground, you had looked up to see your sons and spider.

neteyam " how dare you attack my mom"

kiri " mama" kiri and tisreya had come to your side as you try getting up, as aonung and rotox went to the boys.

tsireya " what have you done attacking her like that"

male navi " she caused harm to my son"

tuk " no mama didn't do anything she was being nice and helping us"

y/n " my mask ... I cant..."

spider ' he mask it broken she losing oxygen"

kiri " no no"

y/n " my pockets there is a spare one .... I ....."

kiri " I found it"

lo'ak " mama it going to be okay we are here" kiri and tsireya had removed the mask slowly then placing a new one on your face.

spider" she still in endanger we need to get her back to base, she baldy hurt and that speared cause enough damage"

neteyam " I will carry her on my back mama can you hear us"

mama " yes ... I ...can"

lo'ak " we are getting your help right away spider run ahead and tell your dad and uncle max... tuk go get grandma and tell her" tuk had nodded her head and ran off right away with the other kids.

spider " yes" spider had ran off as the kids helped neteyam place you on his back. The sully kids had ran off with you including tsireya who came as well to be helpful.

male navi " she she most ...."

aonung " enough you will not to anything else you have done, enough today along with your mate my father will learn about this"

norm " kids get her inside quickly" neteyam and lo'ak had gotten you to the door entrance as spider, and norm had taken you from their arms and placed you gurney.

max " we need to get her in the medical room now"

lo'ak " we are coming"

norm " no you kids wait out here please I will come with updates"

kiri " mama"

women " it will be okay kids we are going to help your mama" the door had locked and close, as the kids watch you being rolled away from them. Tuk and mo'at had came after hearing the news, mo'at stand with the children to watch them and comfort them as well. Neteyam had called Jake and neytiri about what had befallen you today, and panic had set in for the whole family and clan.

Neytiri " children" neytiri had landed her ikran and got off right away, as she ran toward the base worried about your safety.

neteyam " she been in there for hour mom"

Jake " kids we are here"

tuk " dada mama was hurt my very mean guy just for helping"

Jake " we are here now baby girl"

tonowari " what has happened here please explain kids"

aonung " one of our warriors and his mate had started yelling at y/n, blaming and saying she hurt a boy when she didn't ... he then attacked her"

neytiri " where is she I will make him and his mate pay"

tsu'tey " neytiri not yet"

mo'at " my daughter your kids need you right now"

neytiri " okay"

ronal " son can you and any others point this couple out"

aonung " yes we can"

ronal " we will speak with the couple and the boy coming from your word, he would be their nephew so we will call his parents as well"

tonoari " I think his parents were the warrior that came with us on visit today"

ronal " Jake and Neytiri we will speak with this pair and make them, any for their actions against your mate"

norm " hey everyone"

Jake " norm how is she"

norm " she is stable now the kids got here on time and she will need time to recover, from her injuries we are lucky that spar didn't do anymore damage then it has done"

neytiri " thank you great mother thank you"

Jake " may we see her with the kids they have been awful worried"

norm " yes you all can"

tonowari " we will leave your family to be with y/n we will deal with, the others"

Jake " thank you" the sully family had went into other part of the base to see you laying in a bed.

y/n " hey"

tuk " mama" tuk soon hugged you happy to see that you are okay and no longer in pain.

tuk " mama I'm sorry if we didn't say anything ...."

y/n " there nothing for you and the other kids to say sorry about my loves, I'm fine now no need to worry"

kiri " we are happy to see that you are doing okay mama we thought, we lost you when the mask had broken"

y/n " I'm not going anywhere my loves"

neytiri " ma y/n we are happy to see that you are safe but that couple will have to pay for their actions"

y/n " I had a feeling that might happened"

Jake " please don't scary us like that ever again"

y/n " I promises"

lo'ak " we are sorry for attacking the man mama we know, we made a promise to not cause trouble"

neteyam " yes mama we are sorry"

Jake " son none of you did anything wrong you had been protecting your mama, and that makes me proud"

neytiri " we are going to be here for you during your time of healing, but we will make sure no one see messing with you as well" you had smiled and nodded your head, the family had spent a few more hours with you there and camped outside that night. The couple had been brought to tonowari and ronal, along with their nephew and the boys parents. Where tension had been raised as the couple had been scolded by both sides for their horrible behaviors, they had been order to stay away from you until further notice and being punished as well. The boys parents had apologized for the couple actions to you and the family, they had been forgive by you as they were not to blame for what happed that day.It will take you days to recover and soon enough you will be good, and back outside with the family having a good life on pandora.

[librarycards]

There is no christening the archive. It neither starts nor ends, existing instead in a continuous state of creative destruction. History, Derrida argues, is happening at the same time as we are, giving us the potential to reconfigure “before” and thus transform the future. This, however, comes at a steep cost: that the archive is ever-changing means that history will never be complete. We can examine the archive through what Foucault terms “archaeology,” a sort of historical palmistry in which we follow the traces inscribed by our past in order to better understand our present. Our own unwitting archaeologists, trans people are tasked with tracking our myriad crossings, marking the moments that imbued us with gender. We are not selves, exactly, but accumulations of meaning: when I tell you to call me “they,” I am always speaking in plural: me, and them, and her, and all my ghosts. We are told that if we work together, we can unearth the source of me, discover the creation myth that will make the life I live today true. Yet even amid the compulsion to retrieve our selves from history and make sense of them, we charge toward futility. We dig and dent our skin, only to return and widen the scabs. A dent is a type of haunting. So is regret. Renee haunts me in the moments when I least expect it; my archive regenerates as if through divine intervention. A debt is a type of haunting. The debt I carry is unpayable, even as my creditor, my lineage, walks beside me. I am followed by a cascade of critical memories that hardly feel my own. They return to me at random moments, demanding collection.

[sophrosynesworld]

Community Service (pt.1)

Class 1A has gotten a bit cocky with all the pro hero work they've been doing. To reconnect with their local community, each pair of students must complete 50 hours of community service before the end of the semester. And as luck (or curse) would have it, you've been paired with Katsuki Bakugo.

"Community service?" Mineta whines as our project outlines are handed out. The neatly printed papers detail our upcoming group assignment, while murmurs of discontent spread through the room like wildfire.

"It makes sense," Todoroki replies. “Locals should see us helping out. It’ll help them see us as heroes, not just normal teenagers.” He glances around, noticing a few classmates exchanging skeptical looks and hushed comments about the project.

"I don't care about a bunch of stupid idiots who can't help their own damn selves," Bakugo mutters under his breath, slumping further back into his chair with his hands stuffed into his pockets. I pity whoever's partnered with him. Stifling a laugh, I refocus on our clearly annoyed teachers.

"The committee feels that you are forgetting the main reason for being a hero: maintaining harmony and peace," Professor Mic reverberates. A few eyes glance at Bakugo, making him sink even lower in his seat.

"This isn’t a bad thing," Mr. Aizawa reassures us. "I've already assigned partners. You’ll need to follow the listed directions and get your papers stamped afterward. Take the rest of today to plan your volunteer options."

I glance down at my own paper, scanning the list of assigned partners. My eyes land on my name paired with Bakugo. Great. I look over at him; he’s still slumped in his chair with a scowl etched on his face.

Around the room, reactions are mixed. Midoriya is enthusiastically discussing the project with Iida, their heads already bent over their papers. Uraraka and Tsuyu exchange excited smiles, clearly happy to be working together. Meanwhile, Mineta groans loudly when he sees he's paired with Sero, who just shrugs.

"Looks like we're partners," I say, trying to stay positive.

"Just stay out of my way," 

"We need to work together if we want to get a good grade on this," I insist.

"Whatever."

Present Mic claps his hands to get our attention again. "A good day as a hero is carrying groceries for an elderly person. You shouldn't get used to saving the world every day."

With that, he dismisses us to start planning. Bakugo stands up abruptly, grabbing his backpack and pushing past me. I quickly grab my own bag and pull it over my shoulder, following him out the door, struggling to keep pace with his long strides.

"What kind of community service should we do?" I question, trying to engage him.

"I don't care," he snaps, not bothering to look back. "Just pick something and get it done."

"How about we go to the local animal shelter and walk dogs? I think I saw that on the list." I reach into my half-open bookbag and pull out the paperwork, trying to walk and read.

"Yeah, whatever," he says dismissively.

I slow my pace until I come to a stop. Bakugo doesn’t even glance back; he just turns the corner and heads out the front doors. Why did Mr. Aizawa pair me with him? I question my teacher's thought process for the hundredth time.

Taking a deep breath, I force myself to refocus. Complaining won't change anything. Maybe Mr. Aizawa is testing me. Despite Bakugo's attitude, I know he can be a capable partner when he wants to be.

Just maybe, this could be an opportunity for both of us to grow.

[greensagephase]

Valentine's Day (Nonviolent Communication One-Shot)

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x SpiderFemaleReader (colleagues to friends to lovers; they're currently in their friendship era, so no romance but we still have soft Miguel!) Summary: Just a rainy Valentine's Day surprising your friends with baked sweets because Valentine's doesn't have to be only about romance. Word Count: 4,311 Short A/N: This is a one-shot for my Nonviolent Communication fanfic but can be read as a standalone. As I mentioned above, they're in their friendship era, so there's no romance, but Miguel lowkey got me blushing anyway soo! Warnings: None. Just reader and Miguel being their usual sweet and caring selves to each other. MasterlistSongs inspo: "Just the Two of Us" - Grover Washington, Jr., Bill Withers (I don't know why but this song just came to mind while writing this, so just look at it as a platonic song for now :) )

Spider webs shaped like hearts decorate corners. Holographic hearts are displayed at the cafeteria. Even some of the tables have little decorations, more than likely set up by a small group of Spider members that usually take time of their day to do things like holiday decorating within the Spider Society to make the workplace “fun.” As to the holographic hearts out and about, you imagine those have to do with Lyla, who has been all too excited about Valentine's because of her heart-shaped glasses.

You walk through the cafeteria, past occupied tables where fellow Spider members sit. A reusable bag hangs from your shoulder in which you carry baked treats. You've successfully handed out containers filled with them to the majority of your friends, with the exception of Peter B. and MJ, and Miguel. You continue to search for Peter B., certain that you’ll find him here. As you walk, your gaze turns to the windows. It’s a cold and rainy day in Nueva York, and it’s also Valentine’s Day, which prompts a memory to flash through your mind, one that you put away for now. You focus on your goal: find Peter B. and then Miguel.

You slow down as you hear Peter's voice from somewhere, so you look around until you spot him talking with another member, carrying Mayday like always.

“Alright, pal, I'll see you around,” he says with his signature smile, giving the other member a pat on the back before they part ways.

Mayday sees you first and immediately begins to wiggle around, making Peter notice you. He grins and the two of you meet halfway, Mayday already reaching for you. You smile and upon meeting them, you accept one of her hands and play with it.

“Good morning, Mayday,” you say, greeting her. She squeals in delight before repeating “morning” now that she’s speaking two-word sentences. It’s amazing how much time has passed, how much she has grown, which you don’t let yourself think too much about. Instead, you focus on her attire for the day. She's wearing pants and tiny boots, and best of all, a cute pink sweater with red hearts printed all over it, showcasing Peter's spider symbol in the center of them.

It's no longer surprising. Mayday's closet is filled with spider-theme clothes, which has made you wonder if Peter has his own merchandise creator. You feel like it would be a thing Peter B. would definitely have.

“Hey, you heard that? She said ‘morning’ - that’s another word!” Peter says happily. “Daddy is so proud of you, honey! Wait till MJ hears about this!”

You chuckle. “It’s amazing. Before we know it she’ll be speaking full sentences.”

“Okay, that just made me, like, really sad. She’s growing up too fast,” Peter says quietly, holding his daughter close to his chest. His gaze is gentle as he stares at her. “It’s part of life, I know, but…”

“I’m sorry to have brought it up,” you say gently as you give him a gentle pat on his arm. “Would some baked treats make it better?”

That seems to get Peter and Mayday’s attention. “Baked treats?”

“Brownies. For Valentine’s,” you say, pulling out a container and offering it to him. “I baked some brownies for everyone.”

“Totally feel better now,” Peter says with a grin, accepting the box.

”For you and MJ, and maybe Mayday if she can eat them,” you say. “Happy Valentine’s Day!”

“Happy Valentine’s! Hey, they’re even heart-shaped! MJ is gonna be so happy. You know we all love your baking,” Peter says as he gets one out and eats it. Once he finishes eating, he says, “So amazing!”

“Glad you like them! Make sure to save some for MJ, though,” you reply with a smile. “Have you seen Miguel?”

Peter looks around, closing the box of treats. “I saw him earlier. He was going to the Go Home Machine room to check something but he might be back at his lab already,” he responds. His gaze flickers to your bag, taking notice of at least two boxes left in there, though he doesn’t ask anything.

“Alright, I’ll go check if he’s there. I’ll see you in a bit,” you say, saying goodbye to Peter and Mayday for now.

“See ya!”

You walk out of the cafeteria and head to Miguel’s lab, reaching it in no time. You stop at the entrance and as always, you call for Lyla to have her ask Miguel if you can enter. You never walk in unannounced out of respect, even though Lyla has told you that you should stop. Even Miguel has hinted at it, at the fact that you can just walk in, yet, you do it anyway out of respect.

“Y/N! Miguel isn’t here. He’s at the Go Home Machine room. Something’s up with the machine but he should be done in a few minutes. He said you can go in,” Lyla says, appearing suddenly and floating in midair.

“You asked him already?” you ask, amused.

“Yep. I think he’s even going to send you a message because he thinks you might not believe me when I tell you he says to go in.”

And of course, right after she says that you receive a notification from your gizmo, alerting you of a new message. A message from Miguel.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes. Please wait for me * inside *** the lab.”

You smile softly at his emphasis to wait inside. He knows you too well.

“See?” Lyla says with a soft smirk. “So, come on in! I see you have the goods.”

You laugh softly as you enter the lab, carrying your bag with the last two heart-shaped containers you bought a few days ago to package the baked treats. The containers were easy to hide in Gabriel’s old bedroom, the same one that’s your current temporary room since your building caught on fire a few weeks ago. Luckily, your floor was spared but lower floors did not have the same luck. Now, the building is under cleaning and reconstruction, a process that will take at least two months to finish. Or at least that’s what your landlord said. You’ve been staying in Nueva York with Miguel in his penthouse after he offered his place countless times. He assured you that you were welcomed to stay for however long you needed to, whether that was days, weeks, or months. There was even a moment you swear he almost said years, before he stopped himself.

So, you’ve been staying at Miguel’s penthouse in Gabriel’s, a man that you never met and unfortunately will never have the opportunity to due to his passing, old bedroom. You’ve made his room yours for the time being, even encouraged by Miguel to decorate it as you wish to make it feel like home because as he said, “my home is your home.”

And so, currently living with Miguel meant that you needed to find a way to hide your little Valentine’s surprise. You thought about baking treats for your group of friends, including Miguel, last week, but you knew that you’d need to come up with a way to have Miguel out of his own penthouse in order to truly surprise him as well. You quickly came up with a plan and even got a little help from a certain AI assistant, who was all too happy keeping Miguel busy here at HQ last night while you baked. You thought about your plan well, so much that you even baked a cake and cookies as an excuse, so that whenever Miguel got home, he wouldn’t wonder why it smelled like baked treats when there were none in sight, since you planned on hiding the Valentine’s treats in your room, packaged and ready to go for today. And, it has been a success. You’ve surprised all your friends with a little something, as a gesture of how much you care about them. The only one left now is Miguel. You briefly wonder why you didn’t just give them to him at the penthouse this morning when the two of you were having breakfast. For some reason it felt right to leave his delivery for last.

You walk through Miguel’s lab, heading straight to his platform, deciding that you’ll wait for him there until he comes back. You take a seat on it and gaze around. Even from here you can hear the sound of rain, which sounds very peaceful. The silence and the pockets of darkness brings you comfort. You can’t help but find it amusing that over time, you’ve spent more and more time in Miguel’s lab. You recall the days when you hardly came in here. Those were days when Jess and Miguel called you in, usually whenever Jess was delivering a report to Miguel about a mission you and others had been on with her, asking you to go since you were her pupil. Now, you’re here every day, and not just once but multiple times throughout. You can easily spend two or three hours here while Miguel and you work on your own thing.

You smile to yourself. Life can really change.

The rain continues to go strong outside. You let it distract your thoughts for a few seconds, which reminds you yet again of a memory. Of a Valentine’s Day with your Peter.

It was the second before last Valentine’s Day you spent with him. It was also a rainy day in your universe. As always, you baked something for Peter since he loved your baking and cooking. You knew you could never go wrong with baked treats since they were his weakness. He, on the other hand, had a few plans up his sleeve. He always did.

You smile at the memory. He had planned a whole evening that included a restaurant reservation, but the day was cold and a rainy one, being February. It started raining at some point in the night and the rain didn’t stop throughout the day. There was so much rain that the restaurant had to cancel dinners due to flooding two hours before your scheduled reservation. It didn’t matter to Peter though. He asked you to get ready regardless, to take your time.

An hour and a half later, there was a knock on your bedroom door from Peter. As if he didn’t live there, or as if you didn’t share that bedroom, but you opened the door regardless with a smile.

And there was Peter, dashing as always. His eyes lit up at the sight of you, as if he hadn’t seen you a million times before, as if he was falling in love with you for the first time all over again.

“So, we had a little change of plans,” he said with a sweet smile. “But rain or no rain, we’re having a romantic dinner.”

“Don’t we always have a romantic dinner?” you asked softly.

“An extra romantic dinner, darling,” he replied, taking your hand and kissing the back of it with one of his hands.

You smile softly now as you remember that evening.

He held your hand and instead of leading you to the dining area, he led you to the small living room section of your apartment. The overhead lights were off. The only light in the area came from lamps and lit candles spread around the space. The scent of food filled the air, a sign that Peter had cooked. Soft music played in the background from Peter’s record player and of course, his choice was a vinyl of romantic songs. You had a feeling that the night would end with a dance in the living room. Your suspicions only grew as you both stepped onto a picnic blanket and found couch pillows placed around so that the two of you could sit comfortably. There was a vase in the middle with flowers and around it were things like linen napkins and utensils, two glasses for drinks, and everything else needed for a dinner.

Then, there was Peter, serving you a drink and dinner with flickering candles all around, soft music in the back as you talked. You remember telling him that his idea was lovely and sweet, that it would be unforgettable. The night did end with a dance, with your arms wrapped around his neck and his around your waist. You even remember the pit pat of rain against your apartment’s windows and how you could see the flash of lightning even through the curtains. You recall what it was like to dance with Peter. It wasn’t the first nor last time. There were times before and times after that night, all in your small apartment, the one that was supposed to be temporary after graduating from college. The two of you talked about moving to a bigger apartment, one that would be comfortable for a family, for children. Neither of you minded your apartment in the moment though.

You still don’t. Even if you’re alone now. Even if Peter has been gone for so many years.

“Happy Valentine’s,” Peter whispered that night as he held you close to his chest. His arms were warm and protectively wrapped around you, your back to his chest.

“Happy Valentine’s,” you say now.

“Happy… Valentine’s.”

You look up as you hear the voice, finding Miguel standing a few feet away from you at last. His gaze meets yours and you notice his head is tilted to the side slightly, watching you curiously. You blink, pulling yourself out of your memory and offer Miguel a small grin, one he returns instantly.

“You keep asking for permission to come into the lab. You don’t have to ask,” Miguel says as he steps closer, breaking the short silence.

“It’s out of respect. Besides, I see the way you get annoyed when members just walk in,” you reply, amused.

Miguel looks down at you with a soft frown, his lips in a small pout as if silently asking, ‘Really?’

“Yes, but -” Miguel pauses and sighs. It’s different. You’re different. You’re not just any member. You’re his friend. His close friend. His… Miguel clears his throat. “You… Are different. You know why.”

Yes, you know why. You’re friends. Close friends. He’s your… “Right, but I still like to ask. Just to make sure.”

Miguel’s frown deepens, he raises an eyebrow almost in annoyance, yet he can never be annoyed with you. Ever. “Right, just to make sure,” he repeats, raising his hands in surrender, giving up and realizing there’s no changing your mind about this. At least not now, Miguel thinks to himself.

“Anyway, I brought you something,” you say, standing up at last from his platform. His crimson eyes immediately fall upon your bag. He’s been too busy thinking about how you always ask for permission to walk into the lab that he failed to see the reusable bag near you. You close the distance between the two of you, stopping just a few feet.

Miguel wonders what exactly you’ve brought him but he doesn’t have to wonder for long when you pull out two small containers, pink and heart-shaped. You hand them to him with a warm smile.

“I baked a few treats for everyone. Happy Valentine’s Day!”

Looking at the small containers, Miguel accepts them. He can’t help but feel a little awestruck for a few seconds. When was the last time someone gave him anything on this day? He hasn’t celebrated in years. It was so long ago.

“I hope you like them. I baked a little special thing for you. It was my first time baking them but I think they turned out well,” you say, bringing Miguel back to the present. “Go on,” you tell him gently, excited to see his reaction to the second box’s contents specifically.

He nods and opens the first one. Heart-shaped brownies in the size of your palm greet his eyes. He can’t help but admire how you arranged them with cute baking parchment paper, going the extra mile to make him and your other friends feel special today. His lips curl into a soft smile and he feels a wave of heat rush to his cheeks. You baked brownies for everyone and you included him. A warmth spreads through his chest at the thought, the realization.

You stare at Miguel, his smile and blush not going unnoticed. The sight makes you smile.

“Thank you,” Miguel says as he keeps looking at them, the amazing smell reaching his nose. He already knows everything you baked will be amazing. It always is. His mouth waters just at the sight.

“Check the other box!”

Miguel grins at you and nods, closing the first book even though he wishes he could go ahead and eat one of the brownies, but your excitement over the other box deters him. He wants to see what has you so happy and anxious for him to see, so he opens the next box. His lips part and eyebrows raise in surprise for a few seconds when he sees the contents before he happily smiles at you.

“You made conchas! Heart-shaped conchas! You… I’ve never seen conchas shaped like this before, not even at the panaderia. When did you even bake them?” Miguel asks, staring at you with amazement before he lifts the box to his face, inhaling the sweet scent of fresh conchas. His mouth waters even more, thinking about how good these will go with a mug of café de olla.

You chuckle softly, pleased with Miguel’s reaction. “Last night. Before you arrived from HQ. The cake and cookies were just a distraction so you wouldn’t see them and the brownies. I wanted to surprise everyone, including you. So, I recruited someone’s help,” you say with a soft shrug of your shoulders, prompting Lyla to appear.

“That would be me,” Lyla says with a soft grin, arms crossed over her chest. “I had to keep you busy, Miguel.”

Miguel scoffs playfully as he realizes and remembers the previous night. “That’s why you kept messing up the anomaly datasheet.”

“And why I kept moving your tabs around,” she replies, which makes Miguel frown for a few seconds.

“That, too. Not appreciated,” he mumbles.

“I had to do what I had to do, to ensure Y/N’s mission was a success, which it was,” Lyla says smiling.

Miguel shakes his head at her but he’s not even slightly upset. Instead, he’s highly amused that you recruited Lyla’s help to keep him occupied at HQ, all to surprise him with these lovely and delicious baked treats. His cheeks feel even more hot now.

“They smell amazing. I’m not even going to lie, my mouth is watering,” Miguel admits quietly as he nods to the conchas. “Thank you.”

“Always,” you reply softly. “I bet… They’d be really good with café de olla.”

Miguel grins. “Is this your subtle way of saying you’d like café de olla?”

You shrug. “I’m just saying, heart-shaped conchas and café de olla sound like a good combination to me. I think, it would be quite an experience. I mean, you’re saying you’ve never seen heart-shaped conchas before so… I was just thinking, you know?”

“Oh, yeah, right.” Miguel gives you a soft smirk before he grabs one of the conchas. You can’t help but notice how small it looks in his hand as he holds it up, as if showing it to you. “You were just thinking,” he says, still smirking, raising his eyebrow as he looks at you.

“It’s just a thought,” you reply, smiling softly. “Something to think about.”

“Definitely something to think about… which means you have more at home, yes?”

“There might be more conchas at the penthouse, yes.”

“I see,” he replies. “I guess cafeteria coffee will do for now.”

You tilt your head to the side in curiosity. “For now?”

“There might be café de olla in the evening.”

“I see,” you reply with a smile.

“I hear it might be quite an experience.”

“I have to agree with whoever said that,” you say.

“You know, I do, too,” Miguel responds, still smirking softly at you.

Lyla hovers between the two of you, glancing from you to Miguel. “Great, so there’s gonna be conchas and café de olla,” she says.

You both turn to look at her. Right, Lyla is there.

“I’ll go get some coffee,” Miguel says as he places the concha back in the box, making sure to close it correctly.

“Alright. I’m going to go ahead and start on the report. There’s still so much to do,” you reply heading to the desk you always work on, the one that Miguel set up for you many months ago once you started helping him with the weekly reports.

“Sounds good. I’ll be back,” Miguel responds, placing his baked treats on his platform.

“Don’t worry Miguel, I’ll look after them,” Lyla jokes seeing how careful he has been with the boxes, as if they are precious to him. The teasing tone makes Miguel frown but he doesn’t respond as he heads out of the lab to grab coffee for the two of you.

_♡_

You sit in Miguel’s living room many hours later. The time on your tablet reads 7:16pm. Lamps lit up his space and the fireplace is on, warming the entire penthouse. Soft music coming from Miguel’s record player, the one you gifted him for Christmas several weeks ago, plays in the background.

You sit on one of the couches, a blanket over your legs as you work on the report from your tablet, the same one that Miguel gifted you for Christmas. You sit alone now since Miguel excused himself about twenty-five minutes ago, saying he needed to get something done. You didn’t ask what he had to do, not wanting to intrude on his privacy. You told him that you’d be in the living room. You only realized he was in the kitchen because you heard the opening and closing of drawers, but other than that, you have no idea what Miguel has been up to. Besides, you’ve been caught up working on the report, trying to finish it so it’s ready for scheduled meetings later this week.

You move your pen around your tablet’s screen, fixing something with a frown. Your concentration comes to a halt as a shadow covers the lighting. You look up, only to find Miguel carrying a tray that he sets on the console table that’s placed between the two long couches. It doesn’t take long before the lovely scent reaches you. Café de olla.

You glance at Miguel as soon as you recognize the scent, his crimson eyes meet yours and there’s a soft smile on his face.

“How about a break from the report?” he asks, taking a seat on the floor, clad in his lounge clothes.

You smile softly and nod, quickly placing the tablet away and joining him on the floor. It’s then that you see everything that’s on the tray.

He sets out the mugs with the hot and rich liquid, careful not to burn himself or you. He places three dessert plates out. One with brownies, another with conchas, and finally one with bimbuñuelos, a sugary pastry similar to the buñuelos you’ve had before, his personal addition to the sweets. You realize he bought them earlier when he arrived with a pastry box an hour later after you. You smile softly as you look at the sweets, finding it cute that everything is heart-shaped.

“So, there was café de olla,” you say, looking at him, still smiling.

“And there were more conchas,” Miguel replies as he hands you a clean plate to eat, smiling.

You chuckle softly before the two of you dig in, savoring the freshly made coffee and baked sweets in his dimly lit living room. Outside, Nueva York continues to have rain. Flashes of white lit up the sky every now and then due to lightning.

The two of you engage in conversation as you eat, enjoying each other’s company. And while you reply to something he said, a brief thought crosses his mind. This has turned out to be “quite an experience” as you said, but it isn’t because of café de olla or even the delicious heart-shaped conchas you baked that make him want to sigh in delight with each bite he takes. No, this evening has been “quite an experience” because of you alone. His close friend. His best…

Miguel grins at you as he focuses on your response, always wishing to give you his full attention, before he replies, continuing the conversation.

You take a drink from your mug, noticing a gentle but sudden flush on Miguel’s cheeks. Your gaze flickers to the fireplace for a second, unbeknownst to you that a certain realization of Miguel’s is the true culprit for the rosiness that now cover his cheeks.

♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡

Next Part Translation for Spanish words: Conchas - Mexican pan dulce, pastry; word translates to "seashell" because the pastry is kind of shaped like one Panaderia - bakery Café de olla - coffee made in a pot Bimbuñuelos - fried dough sprinkled with sugar; similar to buñuelos Buñuelos - fried dough fritter: typically a Christmas dessert _____ A/N: Happy Valentine's Day! Miguel got me giggling and kicking my feet here! Why is he not real? Anyway, I had this little idea earlier in January and then @heyohalie asked me a while back how reader and Miguel from "Nonviolent Communication" would celebrate Valentine's (if they even did celebrate, since they're currently just friends), and I decided I needed to write it! So, here it is :) Thank you for reading this far and I hope you enjoyed it!!

[mustardinthemilkshake]

On Mickey 17, Severence, and the Substance:

Okay I just saw Mickey 17 and I need to talk my shit out-

I’m seeing a theme in horror/psychological thriller emerge in the past few years and I need to talk it out.

My three focuses are on Severence, the Substance, and Mickey 17. These are three critically acclaimed pieces, tied to horror, that have been popular in the past three years, at least in my circle. All three of them are tied to the idea of separating your self.

In Severence, there are “innies” and “outies” of the Lumon employees. People are ‘Severed’ by implanting a brain chip that separates their memories between their work and their home. The half of them that works, the ‘Innnies’ are essentially slaves, always working. The outside selves are motivated by their own nuanced situations that led them to split themselves in the first place. In Mark’s case, he is trying to escape the grief of losing his wife, Gemma. The outside self is lost in grief, and the inside self slaves away at a job that, by all appearances, is pointless. Both halves suffer.

In The Substance, Elizabeth takes “The Substance” to create Sue. They split their time by the week. Sue is the young, sexy, sellable version of Elizabeth. Elizabeth brought Sue into the world, but cannot stand that she lives the life she so desperately craves. Elizabeth suffers alone in the house while Sue lives a life of fame. Sue starts to abuse the substance, taking more than her allotted time. This causes Elizabeth to age faster and get sick. Sue’s body starts to fall apart. The more time that Sue takes, the less Elizabeth has. But Sue needs Elizabeth in order to survive. Sue cannot exist without Elizabeth.

This is similar to Severence. Outie Mark grieves Gemma with drinking, crying, and self-isolation. Innie Mark can feel the hangovers, his endless block of work is broken up by red eyes. When innie Mark gets hurt, outie Mark comes home with the wound. When Sue takes up too much time, Elizabeth gets older. Without Elizabeth’s spinal fluid, Sue cannot live on. They need each other to maintain the life that they have decided to share, but they cannot see past their own suffering in order to maintain the balance.

Mickey 17 was one of the most interesting iterations of the separation of self trope that I have seen. Mickey’s job is to die. He is an Expendable, so he suffers in order to help the people on the ship. He gives birth to vaccines, he does maintenance on the ship, and he is the lab rat in their experimental testing. After each death, he is reprinted and his memories are re-uploaded into his brain. He has saved many lives and helped many people, at the cost of his own life(s). When two iterations of him are printed at the same time, he sees for the first time that his life has value. Both versions of him want to carry on, to be reprinted, but neither of them want to sacrifice themselves. As Mickey puts it, “it’s no longer ME that would be reprinted, now it would be YOU,” which suggests that his personhood has become two. Both versions of “him” are their own people, fighting each other to survive. In many ways, he has a utilitarian outlook on his own life: He can’t justify killing himself so that another version of himself can live, but he regularly dies for the betterment of society. But Mickey doesn’t actually believe in his cause. He only has this job because of his financial means. He would rather not die at all. But what was he to do, with no money, gangs coming after him, and an abusive addict for a best friend?

In all three of the films, the economic situation has motivated the main character to separate themselves: Mickey has made some bad investments and the gang is on his tail; Elizabeth is fired because she is “too old” and “lacks sex appeal” that a life behind the camera requires; Mark cannot perform another job because he is too entrenched in his own grief. These people are letting themselves be taken advantage of because they don’t believe they have another option.

Similarly, in all three versions of self-separation, the separation of the self does not ease the suffering. Mickey 17 realizes that he doesn’t want to die after he is reprinted. He understands every iteration of himself is different after becoming jealous of Mickey 18. Mickey 18 is braver, smarter, and sexier. Mickey 17 is meek. Mickey 17 is also caring, and patient, but perpetually taken advantage of. They are both Mickey, but vastly different. Similarly, Mark Scout’s outie is sad and isolating. His innie is a leader, charismatic and self-assured. They are different sides of himself, but separated by this chasm of grief. In the Substance, Elizabeth is shameful and self-loathing, but Sue is confident. She is sexy, self-assured, and quietly powerful. As Sue abuses her position, Elizabeth starts to age faster. The very thing that took away her job quickly starts to take her life. She ages, she stays inside all the time, makes a mess of her own house, and she loathes the version of herself she created. Sue abuses her position, and in doing so takes away her life source and power. In all three pieces of media, the two versions of one person start to drastically diverge. It creates a person at war with themself. A literal “Man vs. Self” conflict, that shifts into “Man vs. Man,” but is born from a need for self-preservation. Born from trying to find a way to keep going.

The idea that we could free ourselves from suffering appeals to a lot of people. But these films highlight that in doing so, we are only running from our problems. Expediting them. The idea of severing oneself, or taking the substance, or being reprinted after death, is appealing. And that’s what makes these stories so real, so scary. We are in a world where we suffer because of our economy. We suffer because of grief, because of our age, because our economy prioritizes the rich and young and beautiful. Because billionaires seem to have unchecked power. Everyone can see the appeal in removing themselves from this.

But ourselves is all we got.

I’m excited to see where this trope goes. Especially because it has emerged in the horror genre. Horror tropes have always played off of the current social political scene. Fears that everyone can relate to. A favorite example of mine is “Men dealing with pregnancy” (Alien, Hereditary, Rosemary’s Baby, to name a few), which generally coincides with big moments in feminist history. Usually written by men, these stories deal with bodily autonomy and fearing something your body created. It connects to fears surrounding abortion rights, women’s rights, and traditional gender roles. Another great example is “Technology taking over” (The Ring, Videodrome, Terminator, M3gan, Ex Machina). These films tend to line up with technological advances in society. Televisions, robots, AI, etc. I wonder what a trope of self-separation reflects about us.

When you research a split personality, or split self trope, some examples include Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Fight Club, Avatar, or the Matrix. These are all great examples, but they are different from the examples I have chosen in this essay because they are not motivated by escapism. The common theme between these three is economic disadvantage, suffering, and large corporations leading them to a solution. Mark is severed by Lumon, to do work he doesn’t understand. His innie hopes that his outie put him into this position intentionally, but outie Mark doesn’t have any understanding of what innie Mark does. The Severence procedure performed by Lumon takes advantage of people in these emotionally or financially vulnerable situations. As does the Expendables program. Mickey is on the run from a gang. He has no money, and so to preserve his life he signs a contract with a failed-politician-and-billionaire corporation to become Expendable. Elizabeth is out of a job. Her career is ripped away from her because she is deemed unsellable and ugly. She seeks out the Substance because the life she knew is now unobtainable. All three characters are motivated by their own internal conflicts, but taken advantage of by these large companies.

How could one possibly relate to this in a contemporary United States? Well, can’t you feel it. Feel it in your tired feet. Feel it in your exhaustion when you check the news. Feel it when you see the president behind the podium: the fear, the anger? You already knew what I was talking about.

However, the “solution” of separating oneself only leads to greater conflict. If this trend is recently emerging, I think it is reflecting an attitude of fear and the “flight” response to our political and economic situation that a lot of people are experiencing.

But we cannot escape this. We have to stand up and fight for what we believe in. We have to face every side of ourselves in order to face the real enemy.

[sad-trekkie-life]

I am tired of reading sad headcanons based on Nexus/Generation & AOS Old Spock. Here’s my headcanon which helps me sleep better at night.

The Old Spock from AOS isn’t a Prime Spock, but a Gamma Spock, someone from the parallel universe. That’s why Old Spock recognized AOS Jim — because to be fair, those Kirks look different and you can’t convince me that Old Spock saw these blue eyes and a complete different personality and recognized his t’hy’la.

That’s why in Unification Jim encounters his past selves.

Nexus Jim is a double, he was saved by Spock & Bones but had to leave his double there dramatically because of timey-wimey stuff.

So, it means, that there’s a parallel universe which is similar to TOS but not quite, with James Kirk there looking and behaving more like AOS Kirk.

I think Roddenberry’s vision is too positive to have a tragic end to his main characters.

So what happened to TOS trio? At some point they all retired but now and then they go to space for some adventurers. Spock and Jim bought a house together on a tropical planet near the sea. Bones initially wanted to live separately but because he had to carry Spock’s katra and is very attached to Jim he realized that life without Spock by his side is unbearable or feels extra lonely so he had to move in with Jim and Spock for sake of his own sanity.

I think they all deserve a peaceful happy ending.

[maxdibert]

It pisses me off so much when people defend Sirius in debates by saying, “But he grew up! Unlike Snape, who’s just a bitter loser stuck in the past!”

And I’m always like, “Uh… what? Sirius? An adult? In what universe?”

The response I usually get is, “BUT HE WAS IN PRISON!!!!!” Like… yeah 😅 he was in prison, but that doesn’t answer my question. Sirius is just as much a teenager in an adult’s body as Snape is.

“BUT HE WAS IN PRISON, OF COURSE HIS MENTAL STATE SUFFERED!!” … Right. Do these people even have a functioning brain, or is it just jelly sloshing around in there? ,’/

Sirius was in prison, and that prevented him from developing emotionally and socially as he should have. Severus was someone who carried a huge amount of trauma and was forced to stay and work in the very place where most of that trauma originated. Both of them remained stuck in their teenage selves because, in their own ways, they suffered such immense trauma that it stopped them from progressing in their emotional development.

Both of them. Equally. Because they’re both grown-ass men with gray hairs who can hold it together for five minutes, but the moment something triggers them or pisses them off, the teenager inside takes over and is still the one in charge of regulating their emotions.

And I find it insulting, offensive, and a terrible mischaracterization to try to take that away from Sirius. The whole point of Sirius is that he carries a massive amount of unresolved baggage, and that baggage has prevented him from growing and developing properly into a functional adult. You can see it in his reactions, in the decisions he makes, and in the way he deals with his internal conflicts. And that’s fine—it’s not a bad thing. In fact, it enriches him as a character.

So don’t come at me with this idea of a super mature, responsible Sirius Black who is the perfect father figure, because that’s not Sirius Black. Sirius Black is an impulsive man obsessed with the loss of his best friend, who has the best intentions for his godson but can’t help projecting his trauma onto him—and then feels disappointed when he realizes that Harry is not James. Not because that makes him love Harry any less, but because it forces him to confront a reality he clearly doesn’t want to accept.

Sirius Black is the guy who sees the kid he used to bully as a teenager and cannot stand the fact that this same kid now outranks him in the Order. It eats him up inside, so he falls for every single one of his provocations because the arrogant, abusive teenager inside him is still in control and refuses to let that nerd get the upper hand. Sirius Black is the man who makes rash decisions, who hides away in his mother’s old room—the woman he hated—just to wallow in self-pity, who gives advice that he himself doesn’t follow.

Like, out of all the “good guys,” Sirius is arguably the grayest and the least manichaean or one-dimensional. Let him stay that way. Don’t strip him of his best psychological traits, please.

[findmeinthefallair]

One great thing about having a history of helpful therapy sessions is being able to envision similar scenarios for Hunter.

He and le therapist could be doing Inner Child work, going through a painful childhood memory of his, related to being at the castle, and the therapist could invite him to imagine himself entering the memory: as his current 16-year-old, 17-year-old or 18-year-old self.

Some examples of what the therapist might suggest, depending on how directive they'd want to be:

"What if we go in and help 6-year-old Hunter, and give him what he needs?"

"See if you can carry him out of his room, and take him someplace safe."

"Where would you like to take him?"

"How is he feeling?"

"How do you feel as you're doing all this?"

"What might he need from you at this moment?"

"What does he feel like doing now?"

"What could you do to help him feel appreciated?"

The purpose of such sessions would be to connect with the emotion of feeling safe, to heal some of his wounded inner child using the power of imagination and imagery rescripting, and bring new and different perspectives to traumatic memories.

One of my therapists in the past told me that the general rule is: the earlier the memories that one works on (e.g. from age 4, 5 or 6), the easier it might be to unclog and process other traumas. Because the client's many younger selves would be holding on to less baggage, and the wounded inner child gets to heal a little more, grow up and mature.

I've tried this with a few clients in my past work and the threshold that is the scariest for them to cross is to reawaken the love they have for their inner child (and therefore, themselves). In order to reach the catharsis of that warm moving feeling of love, they must first experience the worst of the grief/loss, i.e. the reality that their younger self did not have their needs met, which is one of the saddest things anyone can experience. I guess that's where the saying "the night is darkest before dawn" really applies. But once they get a taste of what it feels like to love oneself, it's a whole new great experience and they want more.

[transingthoseformers]

thinking about you're blackarachnia post and the idea of characters meet their younger selves... makes me think of an optimus and orion scenario

like he hears his teammates recounting stories of how silly they were when they were kiddos, he prolly chimes in abt how they should go easy on their younger selves, not only cuz it'll help them in the long run, but bc it's something that he just. can't do

he's been carrying the burden of a leadership and has been holding it all together for so long that thinking back to his past self hurts. the matrix prolly influences him to just not look back on his past and keep going forward, telling him to let his younger self go. and he while he does for the most part, there's def times where, at his lowest points, imagines a young orion pax, who was so curious and emotional, so full of naivety and blissful hope, and just.. hugs him, tells him how proud he is of him, that he's perfect just the way he is, saying something along the lines of "what i wouldn't give to be you again, even if for a day"... only to come back to reality and press on despite the pain

sorry if this got long winded, i just think optimus mourning the loss of his young self would be interesting. also was feeling angst inspired after listening to Letter To My 13 Year Old Self by Laufey 🥲

😭😭😭😭😭 I'VE THOUGHT ABOUT THAT BEFORE BUT NOT QUITE IN THIS DIRECTION