#i don't wanna get into an argument with anybody over this though so if you wanna come at me i'm not engaging

[carbonateddelusion]

I'm ngl HH/HB have interesting writing when it comes to lore and the animation and character designs are something I like..... but the actual character writing (esp in the case of. Stella) and lack of growth is kinda fucky. On one hand, we've only had a small handful of episodes when you compare it to big budget cartoons that air on TV or streaming services, but on the other it still feels like they're lacking a lil. there's also some pretty blatant cultural insensitivity issues

as for the behavior of the people on staff, most of the animators seem nice enough. Viv herself gives me the ick a little. I don't think she's the worst person in the world (I used to admire her a lot at one point), buuuut it's someone I would try to avoid. she makes me uncomfortable. the harassment and bullying is never okay though, whether it be from the creator, critics, or fans

[glossdebut]

take a bite | MYG ★ 7

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SUMMARY: Your fledgling career as a music journalist is finally going in some kind of direction that must be on the path to success. Your coworkers like you enough to invite you out on Fridays, your boss is starting to think you’re competent enough to let you score a few bylines, and you’re finally getting the hang of InDesign. All of your hard work, late nights, and complete lack of a social life are starting to pay off… Even if it all came at the expense of the longest relationship of your life. Fine. You’ve accepted the fact that romance isn’t for you, under any circumstances. You won’t risk your career for anybody. Not even Min Yoongi.

✧ TAGS: slow burn, eventual smut, eventual romance, producer yoongi, music journalist reader, neighbors to friends to lovers? you’ll see, reader is bad at feelings, reader is post-break up

✧ WARNINGS: copious amounts of FEELINGS both good and bad, theatre references LOL, world-class meddler kim seokjin, yoongi being hopelessly whipped, angst, smut

✧ WORDCOUNT: 10.3k

✧ STATUS: complete

✧ AUTHOR’S NOTE: WOW. i don't even know what to say... with this chapter, take a bite is officially complete. THANK YOU so much to those of you who have been reading from the very beginning and sending me such kind words. this story means so much to me and i can't believe it's over. thank you again to @love4myg for beta reading this chapter and the last!! everybody go give tanni some love. i love you all! i tried to give this story the ending it deserves so i hope you enjoy the last chapter <3

CH. 7: Wanna Do It All Over Again

You’re a planner, a scheduler. You keep a minimum of six to-do lists at a time. You do your best work when your week is clearly laid out for you within the confines of the neat little boxes on your calendar. So you allot yourself one day to grieve what could’ve been with Min Yoongi, and that’s it.

Your Sunday is spent wallowing, because Rina doesn’t give you any choice in the matter and you don’t have it in you to put up a fight. She seems a little bit like she’s grasping at straws on how to help you, though.

You don’t blame her. Rina had dropped everything to be by your side when your ex ended things, but the remedy for that was pretty straightforward.

There was the initial crying on your part—the intense and nauseating kind that felt like it would never stop, until Rina held you and it inevitably did. After the tears came the anger, the picking apart of every little argument you’d had with him, every quirk of his that had soured from endearing to annoying, and Rina had no problem talking shit. Anger turned into drinking, and drinking led to falling asleep in a heap together on your couch.

It didn’t magically fix the hollowness inside of you overnight, but it helped. Rina had a patented method to make a broken heart a little more bearable.

A patented method that, unfortunately, doesn’t really apply here. Your heart isn’t broken over a failed situationship. You’ve been crying, sure, but it’s more of a passive sniffle than anything else. You can’t bring yourself to feel angry at Yoongi either. Confused, annoyed, disappointed, stupid—all of those you can feel just fine. But the anger just won’t come.

Desperate, Rina defaults to cliches. Cheesy movies, ice cream, face masks—the stuff straight out of a ‘How To Get Over Your Ex In Ten Easy Steps’ article in a teen magazine. She paints your nails while you stare blankly at Julia Stiles’ face on your TV. You force yourself to believe it’s helping. You have work to do, a deadline to meet. So if you need to watch 10 Things I Hate About You with Rina and cry it out to cleanse your brain of Yoongi, so be it.

You refuse to use a sick day in general, let alone because of a man, but you do grant yourself permission to work from home on Monday. Not because you’re still grieving—that’s what Sunday was for—but because you look like you’ve been run over, dumped into the river and then fished out.

With greasy hair and puffy eyes, you set your phone to do not disturb and hunker down in your bed to write your profile on Yijeong. Despite the burn of your laptop on your thighs, you type and self-edit for hours, pausing only to listen to your recording of Yijeong’s interview and transcribe direct quotes. 

You’re able to churn out a subpar first draft before you burn out around four in the afternoon. Your brain is all over the place, and as a result, the profile is nowhere near where it needs to be. But you don’t have it in you to stare at your laptop screen for any longer. 

Rina slipped out this morning and made herself scarce so you could work, so you’re alone. You decide to shower first and foremost, something you’ve been putting off for far too long, and then maybe order dinner if you want to shell out extra money towards a delivery fee. 

Stretching your legs as you stand, you use some of your few remaining dregs of energy to drag yourself out of bed and into your bathroom, finally shedding yourself of the sweatpants and shirt you’ve been wearing since Sunday morning.

Your mistake is looking in the mirror. The few marks Yoongi made on your body are only just barely beginning to fade, still dark on your skin. You trace a fingertip over the bruise he’d sucked into your breast just days before, so recently that you can still conjure a phantom of the feeling of his lips and teeth on your skin. He’d wanted you so fervently then that you’d been sure at that stupid party that he already felt what you did. That he’d just been waiting for you to catch on. 

You don’t know what you did wrong, what kind of misstep you could’ve made to make Yoongi withdraw so suddenly like he did, but you wish you could take it back.

When you finally emerge from your shower, you’re no more energized than you were when you entered. At the very least, though, you’re clean, and you decide to reward your efforts with tangsuyuk.

When you turn your phone off of do not disturb, you can’t help but hope, just for a moment, that Yoongi has texted you today.

Instead, you find that Seokjin has.

[4:42] Seokjin: If you’re not too busy, can we meet?

The anger that had been missing in action floods your senses all at once. 

Seokjin wants to meet you. Seokjin, who you’ve met once. Meanwhile Yoongi, who allegedly still wants to be your friend, can’t send you a cursory text or, god forbid, walk down the hallway to explain any of this to you.

You are not this girl. You have gone through strenuous effort to build very sturdy, very high walls to ensure that you don’t become this girl—the one who loses sight of what’s important to her for a man who will just fuck her over anyway, leave her high and dry. Disappear with no explanation. Fuck that.

If Yoongi isn’t man enough to let you down easily himself, if he’s going to have Seokjin do it for him, maybe you’re better off without any bullshit excuse. From either of them.

You swipe out of your messages, ordering your hard-earned tangsuyuk first. Once the payment has gone through, you open Seokjin’s message again, fingers shaking as you type out your stilted reply and press send.

[5:03] You: i am too busy. and not interested.

Bitterly, you set your phone back to do not disturb. The delivery driver will knock when your food is here, and you couldn’t care less about whatever Seokjin’s reply could be.

★ ★ ★

The rest of the week goes by in a blur, but now that you’re committed to feeling pissed off, you actually feel a lot better. Maybe it’s the man-hater in you.

You hyperfocus on finishing the profile, the words flowing much easier now that you’re done feeling sorry for yourself. Even when you have to write about Suga and his impact on Yijeong’s career, you aren’t the slightest bit thrown off. By the time you’re done, you’re confident that it’s possibly the best thing you’ve written in a long time, and when you hand it off to Rina for feedback she concurs.

On Wednesday morning, you drop the final draft off on Kevin’s desk for approval, and then spend the next few hours helping out where you’re needed. Everyone in the office is in a frenzy to get the layout of Look Here’s next issue together. You spend your day copy editing and calling sources with last minute follow-up questions. 

When all of the articles are squared away, you lurk by the design team in case they need any extra hands. In return, you get to watch the paginator type your headline onto the front cover, which is… a pretty cool moment for you.

You usually hate the week leading up to print day, but knowing that Yijeong’s profile is going to be on the cover, you revel in the chaos of it.

You’re slightly anxious when Kevin calls you into his office right before quitting time, but you try not to let it get to you too much. You know the profile is good.

“Y/N,” Kevin says, tearing his attention away from his computer as you step into his office. It’s a good sign, you think, that he’s looking you in the eyes this time. “Sit down.”

You sit, immediately tapping your foot to try and calm your nerves. “You wanted to see me?”

“I read your piece,” he says, leaning forward in his chair to rest his elbows on his desk. But he doesn’t say anything else.

Um… Okay.

“And?” you ask meekly. He looks at you seriously, and your heart jumps into your throat.

“It was incredible,” he says. Fuck, thank god. “You should be proud of yourself.”

“Really?” you ask, your whole body relaxing all at once.

“Really,” he insists. “It was well-written, informative, personal. I don’t know how you got him to open up like that, but I hope you can keep doing it.”

You blink at him. “Keep doing it?”

“You can expect more assignments like that starting next week,” Kevin says, smiling at you warmly. Holy fuck. “We’re all very impressed with you. We want to give you bigger responsibilities moving forward.”

“Thank you,” you blurt out, unable to contain your excitement. “Thank you, I won’t let you down.”

“I hope not,” he hums, amused, before turning back to his computer. “Go home and get some rest. Print day tomorrow.”

“I will,” you say, standing up in a flash. You want to call—Rina, you want to call Rina and tell her the good news. “See you tomorrow!”

“Have a good night!” Kevin calls as you leave his office in a hurry.

As you walk back to your desk to grab your bag, it feels more like you’re walking on a cloud. Holy fuck. You were right. This piece was your breakthrough piece, and you proved yourself just like you knew you could. Nothing can bring you down right now.

★ ★ ★

As it turns out, Kim Seokjin is not the kind of guy who takes kindly to being ignored. Based on what you know about him, you probably should’ve been able to figure that out on your own. But you certainly didn’t expect him to ambush you outside of your apartment.

You spotted Seokjin sitting against your door as you made it home from work, although he scrambled to his feet when he noticed you approaching. You wondered how long he’d been sitting there waiting for you to get him. He looked like he was well-prepared to convince you to let him in, a pre-planned speech at the ready, but you didn’t give him the chance, wordlessly letting him inside.

Maybe you were still riding the high of being praised by your boss, but you highly doubted anything Seokjin could say to you would kill your good mood. If he wanted to defend Yoongi’s honor, he was welcome to try. 

Your initial impression of Seokjin was that he was boisterous, silly, and a little bit crude. As you sit across from him, all of that still seems to be true, although he seems intent on doing his very best impression of a longsuffering psychiatrist right now.

He sits primly in the armchair opposite the couch you’ve nestled yourself into, his hands steepled together in his lap as he pulls a serious face. It looks strange on him.

“I’d like to preface by saying that you and Yoongi are both being stupid.”

You blink at him, taken aback, until your expression settles into something unimpressed.

“Nice start,” you say flatly.

“You’re perfect for each other and why both of you are willing to throw it away so quickly is beyond me. It’s giving me a headache,” he continues, rubbing at his temples as if to prove his point. “I’m going to play mediator just this once, and then it’s up to you two to figure it out for yourselves.”

“Does Yoongi know you’re here?”

That makes Seokjin snort. “Are you kidding? He’d try to kill me,” he says, crossing his arms. “No, he doesn’t know I’m here. But he told me what happened, and I think there are some things you deserve to know.”

Yoongi told Seokjin what happened. You can’t help the scoff that escapes your lips. That’s nice for him. You don’t even know what happened. Yoongi certainly didn’t seem to feel obligated to clue you into his reasoning for ending things.

“Why doesn’t he tell me those things himself, then?” you ask bitterly.

“Because he’s stupid,” Seokjin says, snapping his fingers impatiently. “Keep up.”

“Okay,” you sigh, equally impatient. You’ve changed your mind. You want to get this asshole out of your apartment as soon as possible. “We’re both stupid. What is it that I deserve to know?”

“Yoongi-yah may be stupid, but he isn’t a bad person.” 

You sit up straight at that. Is he joking? “What are you, his fucking character witness?”

“I’ve been his best friend for over a decade,” Seokjin snaps, clearly tired of your attitude. As if you aren’t justified in having one. “So if I am his character witness, I’m a pretty fucking good one.”

You open your mouth to say something, something venomous at the tip of your tongue, but Seokjin beats you to it, holding his hand up to silence you. “Can you just be quiet for five minutes and let me say my piece? Please?”

Huffing petulantly, you shrug and lean back into the couch, gesturing for him to continue.

Seokjin visibly regroups. You watch as he sits up a little straighter, shakes off the irritation, takes a deep breath.

“For as long as I’ve known him, all Yoongi has ever wanted was to make something of himself,” Seokjin starts, calmer now. “He loved making music, and he didn’t care about anything else. Least of all himself.”

“I got to know him when we were freshmen in college,” he continues. “I’d heard about him from classmates, seen him around, but you know Yoongi. He’s pretty tight-lipped about things, always has been. It’s one of his many faults.”

You scoff, your bitterness cutting through the air. No kidding. That’s how you ended up here, isn’t it? Yoongi’s little omissions, always giving half-truths. The real reason why he ended things with you is just another one to add to the list.

“Anyway,” Seokjin says, his eyes narrowing at you for a moment as he continues. “I was majoring in theatre, and I’d been cast in ‘Into the Woods.’ Yoongi was volunteered by his piano professor to help with the accompaniment, and during our first rehearsal I just remember thinking to myself, ‘who is this scrawny kid who can play Stephen Sondheim with his eyes closed?’”

You wish he’d get to the point already. You’re a sucker for a good backstory, you are. It’s what makes you such a good feature writer. But you’d really like to maintain your resolve in being pissed at Yoongi, if you can help it.

“I was so impressed with him, you know? He does that. He makes everything look so easy. I made it a point to get to know him, and he opened up to me surprisingly fast. I think he needed a friend,” Seokjin continues. “He told me that he was mostly there on scholarships, but he still had to work two jobs to live and pay off the tuition that he did owe. He told me that he utilized the fuck out of the production equipment on campus. He told me that all he wanted to do was make music, and for people to hear it and think it’s worth something.”

Seokjin pauses for a moment, shifting in his chair.

“I think he would’ve done anything to make that happen,” he says, tension in his voice. “I already didn’t like some of the shit he did do, the situations he put himself in, but I think if he knew it could’ve made his dream a reality, he would’ve done much worse.”

Seokjin doesn’t offer up any more information on what exactly Yoongi did, but he doesn’t have to. You gather by the grimace on his face that it must’ve been pretty bad.

“Obviously he made it anyway. You know who he is now,” he says, pausing for a moment. He looks at you seriously. “That comes with its own set of issues, though.”

“Like what?” you ask, disbelieving. 

You feel bad for Yoongi, you do. At least for what he must’ve went through in the past. You know what it’s like to struggle, to feel like you can’t possibly reach your goals with the resources available to you. You’re experiencing that currently. 

But Yoongi is extremely successful now. Artists trip over themselves to get a song from him because they know it’ll chart, that people will go crazy for it. His track record is that good. How hard can it be, living like that? Having people think so highly of you?

“Like people taking advantage of him at every turn,” he says, his words blunt. “People pretending to care about him to get close to him. Even going so far as dating him. Long-term. Or at least as long as it takes to produce an album.”

Oh.

“…Suran?” you guess, thinking back to the party Saturday night. The way Suran kept touching Yoongi, like there had been something there. Yoongi didn’t seem all that uncomfortable, but he’s got a killer poker face. Could Suran be that kind of person?

“What?” Seokjin asks, bewildered. “No, Suran was just a casual thing. He told you about Suran?”

“I met her. Saturday,” you say, waving a hand dismissively. “They seemed close.”

“That’s been done for years. Yoongi cares about Suran, but it isn’t like that anymore,” he insists, shaking his head. “It was someone else. It’s not my place to say who, but it’s the only time I’ve ever seen Yoongi in love like that. Or at all, honestly. He brought her around all of us, which is a big deal for him. Wrote songs for her. Like, not just for her album, but for her. About her.”

“What happened?” you ask despite yourself. You can feel your resolve crumbling, curiosity getting the best of you. Fuck.

“They were out celebrating finishing the album,” he says. “She wanted to go for a walk after dinner. Kissed him in the middle of the street. The next morning, he woke up to pictures of it all over the internet. She’d texted him, too, breaking it off. It didn’t take much brain power to figure out she orchestrated the whole thing.”

You feel a pang in your chest. As hurt as you are, you also know that Yoongi couldn’t have possibly deserved that. Nobody does.

“He threw himself into his work after that—almost never left the studio. Barely ate or showered,” Seokjin says. “I had to put a stop to it. He was going to overwork himself to death, if I didn’t. I had to help him dig himself out of that hole.”

You chew on your bottom lip for a moment, doing your best to ignore how much that sounds like you. How Yoongi was the one beginning to dig you out.

“That sucks,” you say finally. “But I don’t see what that has to do with me.”

“Come on, Y/N. You’re smarter than that,” Seokjin huffs. Big talk from the man who’s been calling you stupid this whole time. “Yoongi hasn’t dated anyone since then. Hasn’t even shown interest. Until you.”

“That’s not what it was, between us,” you insist. “I thought, maybe…” Maybe it could’ve been, you think. You shake your head to snap yourself out of it. “But he ended it.”

“Because he’s stupid,” Seokjin says. “Because he got hurt, and it made him stupid, and when you asked him if he could get you an interview with Yijeong, he was scared that was your endgame.”

What?

Yoongi thinks you were using him? What the fuck????

“I wouldn’t—“ you start, but Seokjin cuts you off. 

“Why do you think I’m here?” he asks, his gaze piercing through you. “You think I couldn’t tell you were going to fall in love with him the moment I met you? The moment I saw you two together?”

Your throat tightens and you have to tear your eyes away from Seokjin. Love is a big word. One you’re not quite ready to contend with, not now.

“…I like Yoongi,” you manage. You can admit that now, even if Yoongi himself never got the chance to hear it. “But just because he got hurt once upon a time, it doesn’t automatically make the way he ended things with me okay.”

“Just talk to him,” Seokjin pleads.

“Look, I listened to what you have to say,” you say, standing up from the couch. “And I’d be lying if I said it didn’t change some things. But I don’t know if I want to talk to him, okay? Maybe it’s better that it’s ended before we got anywhere serious, if we’re both so fucked up over the past.”

“Y/N—“

“Seokjin, I have work in the morning. I appreciate you coming over to tell me all of this, but I’d really like it if you left now.”

You don’t give him much of a choice in the matter. He’s overstayed his welcome. You make it abundantly clear that if Seokjin doesn’t use his own two legs to walk himself out of your home, you fully intend to grab him by the scruff of his neck and drag him out yourself. 

Defeated, Seokjin stands up from his chair and makes his way to your front door. You follow close behind, shutting and locking it behind him before he can get another word in.

When you walk back to the couch, you catch Rina poking her head out into the living room. 

Shit. You hadn’t even known she was home.

Wordlessly, you sink back into the couch, emotionally exhausted. Rina sits with you, repositioning you so your head is in her lap, running her fingers through your hair soothingly. 

You both sit in silence for a few minutes, but you can practically hear the gears turning in Rina’s head. She’s been biting her tongue since Saturday night, being supportive when you needed it, but not pushing. But she was just in your bedroom that whole time, and Seokjin isn’t exactly quiet. You can only imagine what she heard. You brace yourself.

Finally, she breaks the silence.

“He can play Sondheim with his eyes closed?” she asks.

All of the tension seeps out of you at once. You should’ve known better. Of course Rina won’t push you in either direction. She’s your best friend, your Seokjin. Her loyalties will always be with you, and she knows that you need to process everything on your own. 

But she’s also a theatre kid.

“Apparently,” you huff, closing your eyes.

“…That’s really hot.”

You laugh, reaching up to swat at her shoulder. “Not helpful.”

“What are you going to do?” she asks, her voice gentle.

That’s the million dollar question, isn’t it? What are you going to do? Seokjin made a strong case for Yoongi, but you’re still mad about how everything played out. You trusted Yoongi this whole time to be honest with you, but you keep being made aware, over and over, of how much he keeps to himself. You aren’t sure if you want to fight to be let in, if it’s worth it. You want it to be.

“I don’t know,” you say finally.

Rina hums, continuing to stroke your hair.

“...Do you wanna watch ‘Into the Woods’?” she asks.

You snort softly, sitting up to grab the remote.

“Only if it’s the one with Bernadette Peters.”

★ ★ ★

When Yoongi got his very first long-term gig as a producer, Namjoon brought him a potted plant as a studio-warming gift. 

Yoongi thought it was stupid at first, because his studio didn’t have any windows—windows would compromise the integrity of the soundproofing—so the plant would have zero chance of survival. And why was Kim Namjoon buying him a plant anyway? New headphones would’ve been better, Yoongi told him. 

But Namjoon had laughed and insisted that the plant—a dracaena, apparently—was extremely resilient. That it could still thrive in the darkness.

“That’s why I got it for you, hyung,” Namjoon had told Yoongi. “It reminded me of you.”

Needless to say, Yoongi became obsessed with the thing.

It was just a small little cutting, just barely starting to grow on its own, so Yoongi researched how to properly care for it and took all of the necessary steps to ensure it would succeed, even in his dimly lit studio. 

He watered it, pruned it, measured its growth. He sent Namjoon pictures of it on a weekly basis. He named it—Eodumie, thank you very much. 

It took a while, but eventually, Eodumie started to die. Yoongi didn’t know why, so he started doing research on dracaena. He’d put so much effort into helping it grow, so it only seemed sensible to figure out why things had taken a turn for the worse. Run into a problem, find a solution.

Yoongi very quickly found out that Namjoon was a little bit dumb, and that the only ‘plants’ that grow in complete darkness are mushrooms. But he still felt like he’d failed. 

When Yoongi is really upset and can’t stop turning a problem over in his head, he resorts to extremely heavy-handed metaphors to help himself make sense of things. 

So all of that is to say, Yoongi has a tendency to kill things before they have a chance to grow.

He thought, because you didn’t want a relationship, that you were safe from it. And you were, because he really was okay with being your friend. He didn’t expect any more from you.

But then you asked him if he wanted to have sex with you, and… Well, everything changed then, didn’t it? Not because he couldn’t keep things casual anymore—if that’s what you wanted, he would do it. He would try. You make it so hard for him to say no to you.

No, everything changed because Yoongi is an overthinker by nature. He’s attuned to the rhythm of the world around him, notices patterns where others don’t. Especially when he’s seen them before.

He gave you his mouth, and then you wanted more. He gave you more, and then you wanted a favor. He gave you your favor, and then Suran gave you his identity. You had your favor, and his identity, and then you were all over him, and Yoongi knows what happens next. He’s heard that song before.

Shit, Yoongi’s made that song before, unwittingly. And he’s not interested in writing another duet just for it to sour like the last one.

Metaphors, again.

The point is, he cut it off before he was in too deep. Sex complicates things. For him. It blurs the lines, and he’d much rather do you professional favors when he’s not also seeing you naked. It’s the only way he can keep being your friend, and that’s what you want.

Seokjin thinks he’s being an idiot. Seokjin can suck his cock. Yoongi was doing what he thought was right.

He hadn’t expected to hear from you. Over the past week he’d thought about reaching out and explaining himself every day. But he wanted to give you space, maybe. Or maybe he still felt a little sore about the whole thing. But then, Friday night, you text him asking him to come over and…  

Now he’s in your apartment.

In all of the weeks he’s known you, Yoongi has never actually been inside your apartment before, he realizes. Is that weird? The closest he’d been was when he picked you up for the party on Saturday. When he’d lingered in your doorway, looking at you in your pretty dress. Fuck, you looked good. He didn’t want to go to that dumb party in the first place, but you in that dress… He wanted to drag you down the hall, get you in his bed. Take it off of you with his teeth. 

It’s devastating that now that Yoongi is finally here, you seem so stiff in his presence. Quiet. Unlike yourself. You’re sitting as far as humanly possible from him on your couch, and Yoongi feels like an asshole. Even when you were literally a stranger, you didn’t feel like this much of a stranger to him. It was instant, the way you’d hit it off. Did Yoongi really make things this way?

“I read your article,” he says, cutting through the silence. Neither of you have spoken since he came in, and the tension is making him antsy. Desperate to break the ice.

What he doesn’t tell you is that he read your article the second it came out this morning, that he’s had alerts on his phone for everything published under your name since the day after he met you. That he drops everything to read it all, no matter what he’s doing.

It was beautiful. It was about one of his best friends, so of course he thought so, but you have such a way with words. It’s another thing you have in common, he thinks. You both have difficulty saying what you feel out loud, but when it comes to work, when you’re writing, it just pours out of you.

“You read my article,” you repeat softly, huffing. Yoongi can’t read the expression on your face, and that bothers him to no end.

“Of course I did,” he replies, brow furrowing in confusion. “I always do. Especially this one.”

“We need to talk,” you say. He watches as you turn your body on the couch, pulling your legs to your chest to face him.

“Okay.”

“I need to talk,” you suddenly correct, voice tight. You take a breath, and then, “Seokjin came over the other night.”

Seokjin… Oh.

Oh, Yoongi’s going to kill him. Brutally. He told Seokjin to keep his nose out of his fucking business and instead of listening and staying out of it, he came over to your apartment? Is he insane? Yoongi’s always thought so, in a mostly loving way, but this is a whole new level of intrusion that he didn’t think Seokjin was capable of, and now he has to die.

“He came here? He had no right—”

“It’s fine,” you say, waving a hand. Yoongi’s unconvinced, but he forces himself to settle, to take a breath. You said you needed to talk, and he’s going to let you. “Honestly, I wasn’t sure if I was going to text you, so… It’s probably good that he did.”

Yoongi doesn’t see how that could possibly be the case, but he stays quiet. Waits for you to find the right words. 

“This whole past week, I’ve been so… confused,” you start, your eyes fixed on the couch cushion between the two of you. “Confused, and mad at you.”

“I still am, I think,” you continue, lifting your head to look at him. “Mad at you. But I don’t want to be, because I miss you. You said that you still wanted to be friends, but you haven’t exactly put in much of an effort to do that.”

“I wanted to give you space,” Yoongi says. His excuse sounds hollow, even to his own ears.

You shake your head. “You don’t trust me.”

“It’s not that, I just—”

“Let me talk,” you snap, frustrated, and Yoongi’s mouth snaps shut so fast he can hear the click of it. “You don’t trust me, and that’s fine. I get it. But if me asking you for help bothered you so much, you could’ve just told me no instead of assuming that I was using you as some kind of stepping stone and then just breaking things off without explaining.”

There’s nothing Yoongi can say to that. He knows you’re right. He should’ve just said no the second he felt uncomfortable, but it was just so important to you he couldn’t bring himself to not help you.

“I get why your brain immediately went there, but I’m not going to apologize or act guilty or anything like that. Because I wasn’t using you,” you say firmly, crossing your arms. “Shit, Yoongi, all the times you’ve offered to help me I’ve tried to stop you. My car? But then the one time I come to you first, you assume the worst and shut me out. It’s not fair.”

“I know,” Yoongi says, looking down at his hands. “I’m sorry.”

He feels like the world’s biggest piece of shit. For someone usually so observant, he suddenly feels like he’s been blind this whole time. You’ve done nothing but be upfront with him about what you wanted, and still he assumed you were pulling one over on him. He’s spent the past week feeling justified, feeling like he’d done the right thing, but your words have made his entire mindset shift in an instant.

“The night of the party, I…” you trail off. And then you laugh, which makes Yoongi look back up at you. “Yijeong told me I was special. He said that you hadn’t been to an industry event in years, even when he asked you to. I didn’t know that.”

“It was important to you,” he mumbles, sheepish. He didn’t know Yijeong had said anything about him to you. Looking back now, he realizes how stupid that is. His friends are all world-class meddlers. Clearly they need to be, if Yoongi’s this fucking dense.

“See? That right there,” you say, frustrated. “I thought, maybe… I thought you had feelings for me. Non-platonic, romantic feelings. And for the first time since my ex… Did I ever tell you what happened with him?” you ask.

Yoongi had read between the lines. He knew that your ex had a problem with how demanding your job was, and that it’d ended badly, but beyond that he doesn’t know any details.

He shakes his head.

“We were together for almost four years. Almost all through college,” you start. “He met my parents. I met his. After we graduated, we moved in together. In this apartment, actually.”

Yoongi watches you glance around your living room. He knows that look. Years later, he still remembers what his apartment, his studio looked like when they were occupied by someone else. He remembers every detail. 

“I thought we were going to get married eventually. We’d talked about it.” You pull your knees tighter to your chest, looking down. “I got my first job at some shitty newspaper. I worked insane hours and it barely paid anything, but it was a start. I was over the moon about it.”

He holds his breath, waiting for what he knows comes next. 

“He broke up with me after two months,” you say, your voice wavering. “He said it was because he barely saw me, that he didn’t want to be in a relationship with me if my job was going to be more important than us. It took him less than a week to move out. Four years down the drain.”

Fuck. It’s awful, watching you relive your pain and not being able to do anything but listen. Because Yoongi hurt you, too. He’s the reason you’re digging this up, that you’re feeling it all over again.

Yoongi looks down, picks at his left thumbnail as he listens. He can’t bring himself to look at you.

Your ex is an idiot, he thinks bitterly. How could someone spend four years watching the way you glow when you talk about writing and throw that away?

“I blamed myself. Why wouldn’t I? He told me it was my fault,” you say. “I haven’t been interested in a relationship since. Why try if I clearly don’t have time for it? The thought of you having feelings for me…”

He hears you suck in a breath, braces himself. He thought he’d done a good job of hiding how he felt about you, even after the sex. But he’d made you uncomfortable anyway. Of course.

“It made me want to try,” you say softly.

Yoongi’s head snaps up, his eyes meeting yours. It’s almost insane, the way his heart starts racing in his chest at just the slightest glimmer of hope. You realized how he felt—feels—about you, and you wanted to try? He wants to interrupt you, to ask what that means, but he holds his tongue. 

“I think maybe I’ve had feelings for you this whole time,” you continue, looking down at your knees again. “And I just didn’t want to admit it to myself. But when Yijeong told me all of that… I mean, fuck, Yoongi. We weren’t even speaking and you read my article. You helped me even though you thought I was just using you to get ahead. When I hadn’t seen you for weeks, instead of thinking I was a bad friend, you offered up your studio so we could work in complete silence together.”

He would do anything. He would do anything to see you glow. That first night in that horrible Western bar you’d both been dragged to, the way you puffed up with pride when you told him where you work—that’s all he ever wants to see.

“I was going to tell you,” you say. “After the party, I was going to tell you. But then you ended things, and I… I didn’t know why.”

Yoongi needs to salvage this. He needs to know if there’s anything left, if you could ever forgive him for being such a stupid, prideful ass. He hopes.

“Y/N…” he starts, but you cut him off.

“You do this thing where you only give me half-truths about shit, and it drives me crazy,” you say, pointing a finger at him in frustration. “All of the secrecy about your job, who you are, how close you are to Yijeong, why you ended things with us. It seriously makes me want to kill you sometimes.”

You’re right. He prides himself on being an honest person, but he kept things from you on purpose. He didn’t want to let you in fully, to let you see him. He didn’t want to get hurt. But none of that was worth hurting you. He’s going to fix this. He’s going to try. 

“Then let me clear some things up,” Yoongi says, sitting up straighter. 

He scoots closer, closing some of the space between you on the couch.

Yoongi has never been good at talking about his feelings, not out loud. In songs that will ultimately be sang by other people, sure, but doing it like this makes him squeamish. He’ll get over it, though. You need to hear this. 

“I’m an idiot,” he says seriously, looking into your eyes. “I’m an idiot for thinking you would do that to me. I was scared and stupid, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I assumed the worst of you, and that I kept things from you, and that I ended things so suddenly. My past isn’t an excuse. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I should’ve been more open with you, so I’m going to try. Okay?”

You nod once, and he takes it as his cue to continue.

“You were right,” he says, reaching to take one of your hands in his. He intertwines your fingers, staring down at them as he speaks. “About me having feelings for you.”

He hears a sharp intake of breath. He doesn’t know what that means, can’t bring himself to look at you until he’s done verbalizing all of this, but he hopes it’s a good thing.

“I was happy to be your friend,” he continues. “I didn’t expect anything more from you. But yeah, Y/N, I’d be crazy not to have feelings for you. You’re incredible, you know? You’re so smart, so driven, so insanely sexy. I was a goner the moment you introduced yourself to me with a handshake.”

You pull your hand from his, and for a moment he panics, until he looks up to see you using it to cover a tiny laugh. Your eyes are glassy, and although Yoongi hates the idea of making you cry, he feels relieved to know that it’s likely not out of sadness.

“I’m so, so sorry that I hurt you,” he reiterates, pulling your hand back into his and squeezing it. “I never meant to, but I did, and that’s not okay. But if I didn’t completely wreck my chances and you still want to try, I… I promise I’ll do better. I won’t keep things from you, I won’t act without considering your feelings, I’ll do better with all of it.”

You take another shaky breath, biting down on your bottom lip as you process his words. Yoongi feels like he’s going to have a heart attack, tense and pulled taut, but he waits patiently. 

The ball is in your court now, Yoongi thinks. This is your decision, as it should be. If you want him to walk away, he will. If you want to stay friends, Yoongi thinks it might kill him now that everything’s out in the open, but he’ll do it for you. But he hopes—

“No more half-truths?” you ask softly, and holy shit.

“I promise,” Yoongi insists. He holds his breath.

“Then I still want to try.”

Relief washes over him instantly, all of the tension leaving his shoulders at once. He didn’t fuck everything up beyond repair. You still want him. Holy shit, you still want him!

“Fuck,” Yoongi breathes, squeezing your hand again. “Fuck, can I kiss you?”

“You better,” you say, and Yoongi doesn’t waste a goddamn second. Instantly, he’s moving your knees so he can fit himself between them, cradling your jaw to capture your lips with his. 

God, you taste so good. He’s the luckiest motherfucker on the planet.

Yoongi is just happy to kiss you again, to know that you’re his now. But then you make a sweet little sound into his mouth, slide your hands under his shirt, and he pulls away to look at you.

“Baby,” he says, catching his breath. Shit, it feels so good to call you that again. “We don’t have to do anything right now.”

“Are you kidding?” you ask, pushing his shirt up impatiently. Cute. “After you left me hanging last time? In a suit, no less.”

Yoongi huffs a laugh, grabbing hold of your wrists to stop your hands in their tracks. “I’m just saying, we don’t have to rush into anything just because—”

But then you shut him up with a kiss, which he melts into easily before you’re pulling back again. You look so serious. Yoongi likes you so fucking much.

“I want my boyfriend to fuck me,” you say, wriggling your hands out of his grip to keep feeling him up, and Yoongi is powerless to resist because fuck, boyfriend. “Is that too much to ask?”

He shakes his head dumbly, mouth agape. He’s your boyfriend. You said it.

You laugh, pinching his nipple, and Yoongi hisses as he’s yanked out of his reverie.

“Come on,” you tease, standing from the couch and pulling him with you. “Bedroom.”

Yoongi follows you to your bedroom eagerly, letting you drag him by the arm. You take a moment to shoo Pepper off of your bed and out of the room, shutting the door to keep her out, but Yoongi’s patience only lasts so long. As soon as the door is closed, Yoongi pulls you to your bed, laying you down on your back and kissing you breathless. 

He slips his tongue into your mouth, tasting you as his hands slide over your ass to squeeze it. You moan in response, your hips kicking up against his, and he lifts his head to look down at you.

“Tell me what you want,” he murmurs lowly, his lips still brushing against yours. Yoongi thinks he’d give you anything you ask for, especially when you look so sweet and needy beneath him like this.

“Just want you,” you pant, chasing his lips for another kiss. He obliges easily, dipping down to lick into your mouth again.

A part of Yoongi wants to drag this out—really drag it out this time—and tease you until you’re desperate and whining, begging. A part of him wants to see how far he can push you, to make you fall apart so he can put you back together again over and over. But Yoongi’s also not feeling very patient, not when you’re like this. He feels like he’s going to die if he doesn’t touch you right now.

You moan as Yoongi rips your shorts down your legs, arch your back as he slides his hand into your panties to feel you.

“Shit, Y/N,” he groans, sinking his middle and ring fingers into your pussy with no resistance. “Always so soaked for me.”

“Yoongi,” you whimper. God, he’s so addicted to that—the way you say his name when he touches you. If it wouldn’t make him sound like a headcase, he’d ask you to record it. Sneak it into his fucking songs. Let the world know how pretty you sound for him.

“Fuck yeah, let me hear you,” Yoongi murmurs. He sets a steady pace with his fingers, curling them up and thumbing at your clit, and you cry out for him, your face contorting with pleasure. Fucking addicting. “Sound so pretty, baby.”

“M-missed you calling me that,” you whimper, squeezing your eyes shut as you rock your hips up into his touch, and Yoongi’s more than happy to let you take what you need. “Missed the way you touch me.”

“It’s only been a week,” he teases, pumping his fingers faster as his free hand slides over your abdomen and up to your chest to roll a nipple between his fingers. “Am I that good?”

Despite your pleasure, you still reach out to swat at him blindly, and he laughs when your hand connects with his chest. “I hate you,” you complain weakly, but the way your core clamps down on his fingers tells him something else entirely.

“Nah. You like me.” He dips down to lick and suck at your other nipple, satisfaction buzzing through his veins when your hands thread through his hair, grasping at the strands. Yoongi can feel your urgency, can feel how close you’re getting for him in the way your muscles tense beneath him, and he quickens the pace of his fingers in response. “Come on, baby. You gonna come for me?”

“Shit, Yoongi—” you moan. Yoongi feels the tension in your body break, your pussy fluttering as his fingers pump inside of you, and he lifts his head to look. 

You look so beautiful when you come. Fuck, he wants to commit everything about it to memory: the flush in your cheeks, the way your lips part in a moan, your eyes shut tight as you just… take it.

“That’s it,” he groans, slowing the pace of his fingers, letting you ride out your orgasm. “That’s my girl.”

After a moment, Yoongi withdraws his fingers, leaning down to kiss you gently. “Okay?” he asks when he sits up on his knees, studying your face as you catch your breath.

“Mmh,” you hum, nodding. Your body relaxes and you sigh, grinning. “More than.”

“Need a second?” he teases, grinning smugly at how fucked out you look already. 

“Fuck that,” you say, catching him off guard when you suddenly sit up, surging forward to tug his shirt up and off faster than he can react. The second it’s off, you’re going for his pants next, impatient. 

“Fuck, hold on,” Yoongi huffs breathlessly, amused as you struggle to push his pants down over his hips. He stops you, shifting off the bed for a moment to do away with them properly. “Eager, huh?”

“Can’t help it,” you say, laying back for a moment and lifting your own hips to shimmy your panties down your legs. Yoongi can’t help but stare, his tongue running over his bottom lip as he takes in the sight of you. So fucking pretty.

You grin, sitting up again and gently tugging Yoongi closer by the waistband of his underwear. “Yoongi,” you murmur sweetly, and he hums, transfixed by the sight of your hand moving to palm at him through the fabric. “I wanna ride you. Is that okay?”

He inhales sharply, his eyes snapping up to meet yours. He feels his cock twitch in your hand at just the thought of you on top of him, and you smirk. Damn. You’re the smug one now, huh? 

“Are you sure?” Yoongi just needs to check. He wants to make sure that this is really what you want, but he’s already moving to shed the last barrier between you.

“Uh-huh,” you confirm, biting your lip as you glance down at his now-freed length, your hand wrapping around it and pumping him slowly. Fuck fuck fuck. Yoongi is not proud of the noise he makes, the pitch slightly higher than his normal timbre. If he doesn’t get inside of you soon he’s going to lose it.

Mercifully, you let go, your attention momentarily torn away as you shift off the bed to rifle through your bedside table. Yoongi moves to the head of the bed, sitting up against your headboard and taking a second to calm the fuck down. He wants this to be good for you, and if that’s gonna happen he needs to be able to not come as soon as you touch him, thanks.

When you return, condom in hand, all Yoongi can do is watch you as you tear the wrapper open, roll it onto his length. Wordlessly, you straddle him, his hands coming up to your hips to steady you.

“Good?” you ask, and Yoongi nods stiffly. He’s so good. How could he not be, with you in his lap like this? With what you’re about to do? You’ve completely turned the tables on him, and he’s so fine with that.

“Just—” he grits out, squeezing your hips gently. “Fuck, go easy on me, okay? I want it to be good for you.”

“It will be,” you assure him, reaching between his body and yours to guide the tip of his cock to your entrance. “Always is with you.”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow at you. “Not if I come in two seconds like a teenager,” he points out.

“I’d consider it a compliment,” you tease. Yoongi inhales sharply as you sink down just the slightest bit, his eyes squeezing shut. He feels your lips on his cheek, pressing a gentle kiss there. 

“I’ll go slow,” you tack on, and then you start to ease the rest of the way down slowly, stealing all of the breath from Yoongi’s lungs in the process.

“Shit,” he groans, his head falling back against the headboard. You moan softly once you’re finally fully seated on him, and he squeezes your hips to anchor you there, taking a moment to just look at you. “You’re so pretty, you know that?”

Yoongi’s words are rewarded with a pretty flush on your cheeks and your shy smile. “Shut up,” you mumble. His heart squeezes in his chest, a grin spreading over his face.

“I can’t tell my girlfriend how beautiful she is?” he teases, using his grip on your hips to encourage you to move, tearing sudden, simultaneous moans from both of you as he starts to guide you into a slow, steady rhythm. “How crazy she makes me?”

“You can,” you pant, steadying yourself with your hands on his shoulders, using them as leverage to follow his guidance. “Please,” you add, causing Yoongi’s lips to quirk up in a smirk.

“Such a good girl for me,” he whispers, leaning in to press a kiss to your throat. His hands slide from your hips to your ass, groaning as he grips the flesh in his hands appreciatively. “Do you know how often I think about you? About this?”

“Tell me,” you whimper. You sound so desperate for it, for him, and Yoongi is completely awestruck by you. You’re always telling him exactly what you want, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t want to comply every fucking time. Anything for you.

“Can’t get you out of my head,” he moans into your neck. “You’re so fucking—god, you’re so sexy.” Your hips stutter, and he pulls a hand back to smack your ass once, wordlessly telling you to move a little faster. And you do. “So smart, so passionate. Can feel it in the way you write, but not just that. The way you talk about it, fuck, could listen to you forever.”

You moan, clenching around him, and Yoongi hisses, bucking up into you involuntarily. He’s not going to last much longer, he can feel it, but he can also tell plain as day that you’re just as close.

“Look so sexy riding me like this, too. I’m so lucky,” Yoongi says, sliding his hands over your body as he speaks. “This ass,” he says, gripping it in his hands again. “These tits.” Another squeeze, to your breast this time. “Fuck, your pussy. I could write chart-topping, award-winning songs about this fucking pussy.” One hand slides down, his thumb rubbing at your clit in tight circles. You keen, moaning his name. “How wet it gets for me. The way it tastes, how it feels around my cock. Fuck, Y/N. You’ve ruined me for anyone else.”

“I’m gonna come,” you mewl, and Yoongi can’t help the growl that tears from his throat.

“Yeah, come on my cock, baby, fuck, I’ve got you,” he grits out, planting his feet firmly into your mattress for leverage as he fucks up into you. He groans, his eyes squeezing shut as his hips meet your ass, the backs of your thighs, setting an urgent pace.

“Fuck!” you moan. Yoongi must be doing something right, judging by the way your thighs start to shake, the way your whole body goes taut in his grip. “Fuckfuckfuckrightthere—”

It’s still true: Yoongi will never get tired of the way you look when you come. You just let go, shaking and moaning and digging your nails into his shoulders as you writhe above him. He did that. Fuck.

His rhythm gets sloppy quickly and he pulls you as close as he can as he thrusts up into you, his own orgasm quickly following. Stars burst behind his eyes as he spills into the condom, groaning into the crook of your neck as he slows to a stop.

You pull him into a kiss, both of you gasping into each other’s mouths as you recover. When you tear yourself away, Yoongi feels your hands cradling his face, and he opens his eyes to find you looking at him, exhausted from exertion but smiling.

“I think all of those things about you too, you know,” you mumble fondly, thumbing his cheek. Yoongi’s heart skips a beat. “It’s not just you.”

His hand comes up to rest over yours, a shy smile playing at his lips. “Guess we won’t get tired of each other any time soon.”

You laugh, carefully lifting up off of his lap. “No, I guess not.”

It’s hard to tear himself away from you, but Yoongi drags himself off your bed to dispose of the condom, navigating his way to your bathroom easily. Your apartment has the same layout, after all. When he returns, he uses one of your towels to wipe you down carefully.

Afterwards, he climbs into your bed with you, pulling you close, your head on his chest. For a moment, Yoongi tries to think back to the last time he felt this way, but he comes up short. Even in his last serious relationship, it didn’t feel this way. In the back of his head, even if he wasn’t willing to admit it until now, he always knew something was off about it. But this, being close to you like this, this thing you were both so scared of… It feels so right. 

“Seokjin thinks we’re going to fall in love,” you say after a long moment, your voice quiet. Dangerous thing to say, Yoongi thinks, with your head on his chest like this, so close to his traitorous heart.

“Seokjin thinks a lot of shit. Says all of it out loud, too,” Yoongi murmurs into your hair, taking one of your hands to thread his fingers with yours. “What do you think?”

Yoongi knows what he thinks. He thinks he’s already more than halfway there. He thinks this… you and him could really be something. Not for the first time tonight, he holds his breath.

“I think he’s right,” you answer softly, lifting your head to look at him.

As Yoongi looks back at you—his wallflower, his neighbor, his music journalist friend, his beautiful, hardworking girl—all he can think about is that Western bar he didn’t want to go to. The one he was dragged to on some random Friday, not even a wellness check night. The one he could’ve easily said no to going to in favor of staying in his studio instead. Just another thing he owes his friends for, he thinks. This might be the best one, though.

He squeezes your hand.

“Yeah,” he says. “Me too.”

★ ★ ★

EPILOGUE

You didn’t think you were going to make it.

Work has been busting your ass lately, and while you’re endlessly thankful that your career has suddenly taken a sharp turn for the unimaginable—interviewing Lee Chaerin, fucking CL up close and personal, are you joking?—you told Kevin that you had somewhere to be tonight. And that motherfucker still kept you in his office long past five to brainstorm next month’s edition.

Thankfully, you made it out with just enough time to make yourself look presentable in the mirror before making a dash for your car. Unfortunately, you had to forego running home to shower and change clothes, but you did wear a cute sweater and a flattering skirt to work today in anticipation of exactly that situation. Small mercies.

You’re late, definitely late enough for it to be rude, but Yoongi had insisted over and over that this was a completely casual thing.

You love Yoongi, but he’s totally full of shit. There’s nothing casual about meeting your boyfriend’s literal soulmates.

As you stalk towards the front door of the restaurant, you pray that you haven’t completely squandered your first impression before it even begins. Even Rina is making a better one than you—she showed up twenty minutes early. Backstabbing bitch.

Yoongi, ever the gentleman, meets you at the door.

“Will you relax?” he says, exasperated even as he leans in to kiss you ‘hello.’ When he pulls back, he flicks you on the forehead. Asshole. “You texted me your ETA like twelve times. While you drove. This is the furthest thing from a big deal.”

“Says you,” you grouse, slipping your arm into the crook of his elbow easily as he guides you inside. “These are your soulmates. They already love you. What if they hate me? What if they want to burn me at the stake?”

This past month with Yoongi has been nothing short of bliss. You’re both busy, both practically living in your respective workplaces, but sometimes you make time to visit him in his studio and work next to him in silence. Sometimes you come home to find him cooking dinner for you in your apartment and swapping stories with Rina. Sometimes you sleep in on weekends, wake up next to him and admire the softness of his features in the morning, the way Pepper curls up on his chest like he’s been around forever. It’s so good it makes you want to cry. Comfortable. Plus, there’s lots and lots of sex. Sex so good it makes you actually cry sometimes.

“They won’t,” he insists, keeping you close as he weaves through tables to guide you to the private room in the back. “They’ll love you, too. Maybe even more than me. You’re much easier to get along with.”

“That’s true,” you concede with a dramatic sigh, smiling at him fondly. He may be a grouchy hermit, but he’s your grouchy hermit.

When you reach the door of the private room, he stops. You can hear Seokjin’s windshield wiper-y laugh, even with the door closed. “You ready?” Yoongi asks, turning to you with a grin.

“No,” you mumble, pouting. When he runs his thumb over your bottom lip mockingly, you huff at him. “But I guess I have to be, don’t I?”

“Yep,” he says simply, dipping down to kiss you one more time. “It’s gonna be okay, baby. I love you, so they’ll love you, too.”

You hum, grabbing greedily at the front of his shirt to pull him down for one more kiss. “If you say so,” you murmur. “I love you, too.”

You smooth out his shirt and then do a full-body shake to ease your nerves, which makes Yoongi snort. “Okay, I’m ready.”

Yoongi nods, smiling at you fondly, gums showing. You’re damn lucky, you think, to be the one at the receiving end of those smiles. He loves you. It’s so fucking stupid how much he loves you, and how much you love him in return. It’s still new, still a little thing that both of you are learning how to nurture properly, but fuck it’s good.

When he opens the door, the noise of friends inside—both yours and his—filtering out into the restaurant, it’s that gummy smile still lingering in your mind that makes you take a step inside. That, and Yoongi’s voice in your head telling you it’s going to be okay. Because if there’s one thing you know beyond a shadow of a doubt after this past month, it’s that Yoongi will always be honest with you.

He squeezes your hand, and you step inside.

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PREVIOUS CHAPTER ✧ MASTERLIST 

[a-hazbin-reader]

Hi 👋🏽 I really like your stuff! I was wondering; could we possibly have some platonic headcanons for Husk where he has this unspoken kind of parent-kid relationship with the reader?

And the funny thing is that some of the others speculate that it’s no coincidence that the reader’s weirdly good at cards. Like, the reader doesn’t look exactly like him per say, but they bare enough of a resemblance to him that it has the other wondering is Husk could have possibly (unknowingly) had a kid while he was alive. No one knows. Not even us.

♦️ plz, and thank you ♥️

This is so fucking cute!!

Husk X Reader Headcanons

❌️Romantic

✅️Platonic

TW: Reader being a sad baby, Kidnapping, Underage drinking, Harassment, Reader needs help fr

Description: ☝️⬆️

Sure, technically you were an adult but you're also still just a kid

You thought you knew everything, you thought you were grown and didn't need to rely on anybody

You didn't need to open up to anybody, you grew up tough and went out like a badass

You weren't hurt or angry at the world at all

It's your attitude towards these things that makes Husk look out for you, keeping a watchful eye on you even when you don't want him to

You're trying to get a drink at a bar?? He's dragging you out and telling you that you're too young for that shit

Fucking hypocrite you drink all the time

You're getting into a fight with someone 10x your fucking size?? Husk is there to tackle them and take you home

Lectures you the entire way back if you're the one who started it

Some sleazy motherfucker is hitting on you?(Or even if it's not someone sleazy really) He's there to tell them to keep walking

Even if you don't want them to

BRO WTF

Even the others at the hotel slip up and call him your dad which just pisses you off even more

"Angel! Let me have a drink!!"

"No way, kid! Your pops would totally kill me if I let you get wasted!"

Definitely causes some arguments between you two, the kind that makes everyone else in the hotel scatter

"You're not in charge of me, Husk! Just leave me alone!!"

"You think you got it all figured out, don't you? Well you fucking don't! You're not the biggest baddest thing out there! Hell, you're not even the baddest thing in this hotel!"

Not Alastor giving you cheeky wave as he walks by

Once the fight reaches it's peak then you storm off, fed up with being treated like a child

"I don't need a father so just back off!"

Husk needs a drink

Fine, let's see how you like it when nobody is looking out for you

You and Husk don't speak for awhile after that but you're too stubborn to admit that you miss him

You begin to act out whether you realize it or not, wanting him to come and yell at you like he used to

It was actually nice having someone who cared enough about you to fight with you over your choices

So you take your newfound freedom and sneak into a club that you've been trying to get into for awhile

You meet some fun people and party with them, drinking every drink they slide your way, dancing with whoever grabbed you

After awhile though you begin to feel dizzy and sick, you desperately need some fresh air

And some water

"Hey where you going, squirt??? We're just getting started!!"

Hey let go-

Ow! That hurts! Why are you grabbing so hard!?

I said let go of me-

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

HUSK-

You nearly cry at the sight of him, fur bristling with anger, wings spread out, arms crossed

You break away and run to him immediately, hugging him tight and relaxing as he wraps a protective arm around you

You'll blame it on the alcohol later

"You okay, kid?"

You don't see how he never takes his eyes off your friends turned attackers

You just nod and hide your face in his chest, squeezing him tighter

"I wanna go home..."

Husk immediately softens up and carries you home, making sure nobody follows the two of you

He takes care of you the entire night and has a hangover remedy ready for you in the morning

No lecture from him this time, he just quietly takes care of you then leaves

Charlie and Vaggie will later tell you that he stayed with you the whole night, refusing to leave your side

You'll have to seek him out on your own once you feel better, sitting on a bar stool and clearing your throat

"I'm not going to fix you a drink so just forget it-"

"Thank you...for...you know..."

Husk visibly softens up once he registers your words, sighing as he sets his rag down

It takes all of his strength to power through his next words, looking embarrassed and uncomfortable

Telling you that he's not trying to baby you when he stops you from doing certain things, or when he tells you that you're too young

He's just trying to look out for you because he cares about you

And no matter how angry with him you get, he'll always come bail you out of trouble and you can always come to him with anything

Sure, he might not be your father but he's definitely your daddy

Wait fuck that came out wrong

DON'T YOU LAUGH AT HIM

It sounded cool in the movie!!

It's not that funny!! You are ruining the moment

Husk is so fucking embarrassed now, forget he said anything

Freezes up when you suddenly leap across the counter to hug his neck, squeezing him in a way that makes his heart melt

Hugs you back while awkwardly petting your head, feeling like his old heart is about to burst

"Thanks for everything, Husk~"

NO HE'S NOT CRYING

I GOT VERY CARRIED AWAY WITH THIS I'M SORRY!! I hope you still enjoy it!!

[wonton4rang]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Roll the dice ¡!

pairing: bnd legal line x reader.

warnings: +18, smut, breeding, mentioned of birth control and pills, idk.

summary: bnd legal line mtl to use condom/ like breeding.

note: this came to me in a vision fr fr.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

sungho; he is a certified lover boy, like a husband material type of guy so i personally don't think he would like to breed you :( unless ofc it's to actually have a kid and not for the fantasy if you know what i mean. he would get worried about you because he knows how pills or birth control might affect you and he wouldn't like to purposely put you through that. it might happen accidentally tho and i can see him with wide open eyes and looking at you in panic after he finishes inside by mistake, he couldn't hold it this time and he is so ashamed and sorry :(( constantly whispering against your cheeks littles "i'm sorry, baby, so sorry" it's mainly because he feels guilty but you reassure him that is fine, you are under birth control for a reason!!

riwoo; i think he would do what you think and what you like, you like him to wear a condom? he will. you like him to come inside? he will. you like both but it depends on your mood and the day and on the weather and the conversations you've got that same day??? he's fine with that too!! just let him know please because otherwise, how would he know? riwoo is very similar to sungho's case but this one is kinda nonchalant about the why itself, he just knows he will do whatever makes you feel and be good. he just loves you so much but he is also kinda scared to ask because he doesn't wanna be nosey or you to think he wants to do something you don't :')

jaehyun; well, i got you news. bad or good it'll depend on your own perspective. but this dude??? he would want to breed the shit out of you (or into you) he could and will get so into the moment that it would just come naturally, he couldn't hold it or he didn't want to, i see him as a very submissive person when it comes to sex but he definitely also have his days where he would take control, still having you ride him as usual but controlling your pace and holding your hips on place when he felt his dick twitch and his orgasm so near "please, stay put, let me come inside this time" but it was more of an announcement, he was just letting you know because even though you let him, he wasn't able to hold it anymore :( poor boy is just so sensitive and so into you.

taesan; i think he wouldn't directly be into it bUT taesan is also a very curious boy so i just know he would like to try it at least to know what it is about. one time won't hurt anybody, right? problem was it wasn't just one time. he is not the type to be angry often but he is one to hold hard feelings for a while afterwards so i strongly expect angry sex w taesan after an argument probably over some jealousy or a disagreement about something in the house and he just has to demonstrate you that he is the man of the relationship, having sex with you and looking right into your eyes before coming deep into your pulsating cunt. you wouldn't say anything about it because honestly?? the way he looked down on you, how his cock throbbed inside of you and the way his wet lips kissed yours was so hot and endearing that you just enjoyed.

leehan; "jaehyun does it sometimes" he would say when trying to convince you "his girlfriend let's him, she doesn't mind" and you would just laugh a little bit before answering "well, i do, so forget about it and help me with this, would you?" he would be pouty all day long, complaining about how unfair it was for you to not let him try it at least once!! he was dating you and he was not planning on leaving your side so that means he will NEVER get to try it. omg, he was gonna faint. but you were too soft, too into him to forbid him and take that away from his grasp without even letting him taste it once. "babe" you called "about what you said earlier" his eyes flew to yours when he lifted his eyebrows in expectation "i am willing to do it, but just this time, yes? it really gets uncomfortable with the pills sometimes" and he would be so happy and grateful for you, fucking a baby into you all night long, because yes, you said just this time, not how many times.

so after giving you my thoughts on each, I'll go as it follows:

MOST.

jaehyun. yeah, for the first time in those mtl things i do the #1 is not leehan but goddamn it, jaehyun just screams "breeding" and then sobbing when he comes down of his high and thinks y'all are gonna have triplets (not that he doesn't want to but nOT NOW)

leehan. been there, done that, he would like to do it just to laugh about it, for the sake of it. he would enjoy it so much too omg (i need him!!)

taesan. already explained this one but he is basically with one foot on each side, is not that he doesn't like it but he won't do it on a daily basis because he doesn't think it's that big of a deal.

riwoo. like taesan, it's not that he doesn't like it but he would just go with the flow of whatever you want.

sungho. yeah, how bout no? <3 he ain't dealing w shit after that and he cares too much about you to make you worried or through some pain or something w the pills so yeah. but he does kinda like it, he just can't enjoy it fully because all the preoccupations won't let him.

LEAST.

[epickiya722]

I have made this argument before and I wanna see if it flies here: I don't think Sukuna counts as a hater. Because he doesn't care enough about anyone to truly hate them. He IS a huge bastard that treat people like plaything and disrespect them, but I never saw any of it as coming from a place of hatred? Even towards Yuji with how much bullshit he put him through and dissing him, I don't see that as coming from any feeling of hate, just the dismissness one treats a toy you not longer care to play with.

Ooh, okay hear me out because I do see where you're coming from, Anon. In fact, I do agree.

Sukuna does come off as someone who doesn't really spends his energy hating on someone as in "eh, what's the point".

Sometimes, you gotta have some bit of sense to care about something or someone to even feel anything else for them.

To care, is to acknowledge revelance and well, evident enough Yuji is the last person Sukuna would find important, huh?

But, hope you don't mind, I want to add onto this a bit more because I have thoughts and well...

I am (finally ╥﹏╥) finishing up a post I have had since January that is about how Sukuna views Yuji. (Kid you not.)

Now, before anybody says anything, yes, you can say Sukuna is a hater. He is indeed a Hater, with a capital H. But he really shows that behavior towards only Yuji verbally. Like... I can't recall him ever being so vindictive towards anybody else but Yuji.

He has expressed annoyance towards others and more recently even small moments of anger. Sometimes, he's even dismissive.

But with Yuji? Yuji won't even be in the same vicinity and he hates on him. He has this special animosity towards Yuji.

Why does he though? What's the reason?

This is what I suppose.

Sukuna definitely hated Yuji and probably still does because he was more of a cage to him than just a vessel. When Sukuna first was reincarnated and Yuji suppressed him, that actually was Sukuna's first L of the series. No doubt he despises him for it. Promised a second chance at life and a vessel and when you get that vessel? He controls you not you control him.

Come chapter 248, we get a bit more as to why Sukuna hates Yuji. No matter what he does, Yuji continues to get back up. His resolve is so strong that not even the King of Curses can break him at this point. And because of that, Sukuna decides to continue on where Kenjaku left off just to spite him.

But thinking about it... why? The thing is Sukuna never really had a goal in mind besides wanting to kill people for the hell of it. He does what he wants whenever he wants. He eats whatever he pleases. Something pisses him off, he gets rid of it.

So doesn't it seem off that Sukuna is actually going the extra mile just because of some teenage boy irks him? Is taking over for Kenjaku to merge humanity actually necessary? Just to spite Yuji?

Yuji ain't the only one attacking him, so why just antagonize him? He doesn't find anyone else boring?

You said the right word, Anon. Sukuna treats Yuji as a "toy". He treats Yuji like a toy. But he also does for everyone else. Everyone else (except Uraume really and he really doesn't pay much mind to Kenjaku and we don't know his relationship with Tengen) is a toy for Sukuna. There is not one person he genuinely cares enough for spare their life. Everyone he has fought was just entertainment for him. He killed people just because. He breaks people because he can.

And even though Yuji is one of those toys to him, Yuji is a toy that Sukuna keeps picking back up. He ignores him, but then goes right back to turning his attention on him. No matter what he does, Yuji is a Nokia phone. He's practically immune to Sukuna's tomfoolery.

If I had to say, if Sukuna doesn't hate Yuji, he hates what he stands for. He hates the idea that Yuji is fighting him and willing to die because he's selfless and wants to save people. Opposite of Sukuna's selfishness and entertainment to torture people.

[tamblrtrain]

feel like someone's said this already but jimmy absolutely feels like he's cluster b. i'm saying this from a semi-detached pov bc i've not talked to anyone i knew for sure was cluster b but from listening to. a lot of theramintrees. and also given jimmy's larger than life personality he really bridges on being cluster b.

i get anybody saying he has a sort of superiority/inferiority complex because he absolutely does. but it's so drastic that it really does border on cluster b. specifically i feel like it's aspd but npd and bpd can be argued.

i'm going to reiterate that i do not know anybody with diagnosed aspd nor am i a psychologist or psychiatrist. i also do not want to portray the idea that i hate cluster b people. i just hate jimmy who i think exhibits cluster b symptoms. i'm also a fucking nerd up at midnight. and i'm flipping between tumblr and a wikipedia tab abt aspd so there's that. yapping under the cut.

hoo boy okay. this is really complicated. first off looking at the diagnosis bit of the wikipedia article where they cite the dsm, jimmy fits under more than enough traits (the dsm lists 7 and requires at least three be present)

failure to conform to social norms and laws: this one is the biggest stretch and i can't really cite anything in the game for it, but if you find something that genuinely isn't a stretch, i'd love to see it.

deceitfulness: genuinely look at him and tell me this doesn't fit. he tricked daisuke several times to his gain and daisuke's loss every fucking time. spiked cocktail? yep. the fucking vent? jesus christ.

exhibiting impulsivity or failing to plan ahead: man he fucking crashed the tulpar because he didn't wanna deal with the consequences of his actions. he forced himself onto anya and then nuked the ship because he forgot things happen after you do things.

irritability and aggressiveness: anya. curly. swansea. genuinely there are too many instances for me to name one. he assaults curly while administering the painkillers. he yells at anya for daring to ask him to give curly painkillers. the whole 'shoot swansea so you don't fucking die' sequence. there's so much i'm going to be sick.

reckless behavior that disregards the safety of others: crashing the fucking tulpar!

irresponsibility: one of the major themes in mouthwashing is taking responsibility and the way jimmy goes about doing that is genuinely horrible.

lack of remorse after hurting or mistreating another person: do i even need to explain this? he doesn't spare any thoughts for anya. he thinks of her as a fucking womb and nothing else. do you call that remorse? i fucking don't.

now. i don't know shit about jimmy's childhood but just considering 6 of 7 are already exhibited well enough it's kinda easy to see. it's impossible to know for sure, but jimmy's behavior is well enough argument in my mind. you can absolutely disagree with this ofc, i'm just saying what i think. and you can argue about jimmy being something completely different, i'd love to hear it.

personally, though, this is just my take on him. i think he's likely to have aspd. this will not affect the way i write him, this is just me trying to understand his character a lil more. if you have different thoughts or even just want to explain, please yap to me, it'll help me string together my thoughts better. yapping over

[some-pers0n]

Uhhh....Bio Post?

Hey! Hi! Hello! Any other synonym for ‘greetings��! Nice of you to stop by and read this. If you have, give it a lil' heart so I know you've read it. Means a lot.

INTRO

My name is Some Person, though you can call me Some, Person, Somp, or just SP. The SP stands for "Science Party" of course. What else could it possibly be?

They/she pronouns. Don't wear 'em out, alright?

I’m a blog that just is mostly here to gawk at beautiful art and reblog it. It’ll be just about anything, but mostly as of now it’s going to be TF2, WoF, Will Wood, memes, etc and etc stuff. I do reblog a LOT, just keep that in mind.

I am a fanfic author who mostly just dabbles in TF2 and WoF, though don’t be shocked if I post anything from any other fandom.

BYI

DNI: Queerphobes, radqueers, proshippers, racists, bigots, all that noise. Standard DNI here

I am a rambly person. I can’t really help myself but run my mouth off on just about anything. I’ll frequently post rants and gargle up nonsense about anything. I don't really expect engagement since I'm ultimately just rambling to myself

If you couldn’t tell already, I do genuinely type like this. It’s force of habit now, I guess. I always sort of worry that I come off as rude or insensitive, so I'll infrequently use tone tags just in case. You don’t need to use them for me though if you don't want to

I'm also very awkward. I'll say a lot of things randomly or just be really sort of...off in a way. Keep in mind I'm autistic lol

I am 18 and over, however I still am rather averse to NSFW content. No offense to any artists out there who draw it, it just ain't for me. Oh and also minors are 100% allowed on my blog of course

I am also an argumentative person. I try to catch myself before it gets bad, but sometimes I get carried away. My deepest apologizes if that happens

I have a lot of opinions. I swear to god you can press me on just about every topic and I'll have something to say about it

If you go to follow me, just know that I am a very reblog-heavy person. If you do so, there's a good chance your dash will be flooded with TF2 characters and whatever else I'm incredibly obsessed with at that point. I'm sorry to anybody who follows me and is immediately hit with gay old men holding hands

I LOVE ASKS!! I love talking with people! Feel free to DM, ping me in posts and tag game, or just...talk to me about anything. No need to be shy around me. Ask me about my thoughts on something and I'll answer as soon as possible. Wanna talk about something else? Sounds great!

INTERESTS

(Highlight: The Interest | Bold - Major Interest | Italics - Moderate Interest)

TF2

Wings Of Fire

Will Wood

Writing

Astronomy

(Abnormal) Psychology

Disco Elysium

TLOZ

Pokémon 

The Magnus Archives

Omori

Jerma985

Malevolent

Persona 5

Deltrarune/Undertale

FNAF

SOCIALS

Portal 1/2

BioShock

Slay the Princess

Gravity Falls

Arcane

Ao3: SomePerson5

Discord: s0me-person

[mslanna]

Disclosed Desires

Chapter 4 of A Mortifying Ordeal now up on AO3

95% smut. You can skip when he vanishes his clothes.

I have no idea how I got through that dinner. The food was delicious, like utterly out of my budget and Raphael just sat there like a statue of Adonis only looking better and alive. Has the world ever seen eyes so brown? Probably not because it didn't implode and gods know I was so close.

Also, that voice. Once he realised The Purr had me in a stranglehold, he defaulted to it. Kept quizzing me about Baldur's Gate 3, too. Embarrassing and the one thing that saved the chair I sat on. I'm bad at meta, won't lie, so trying to explain things to him was pretty excruciating.

He kept insisting on me having a favourite way to play dialogues and such being a sign of me remembering and trying to be who I was before. Looking at that sopping soft guy who hid a complete devil under that face, was close to making me believe. No other reason anybody's pursue me with such fervour. But then I also have a favourite way to play Dragon Age 2 and I'm certainly no Hawke.

The thought of Varric turning up and trying to convince me to return to Kirkwall stuck around for almost half a minute. Mind you, he wouldn't have such convincing arguments for making me want to be Hawke and return.

Raphael, though? He's truly impossible, not gonna lie. I have to admire his staunch belief that I am in fact his Tav!Tav. Almost enough to make me doubt myself.

And gods do I wanna be them. He woos with the fierceness of a thousand suns, looking about as hot. Doesn't help if he's in his human form, guy is on fire! And not backing off. I am be as red as his devil skin when we arrive back at my room. Godsdamned, it is shabby. I am shabby. And he doesn't even care.

Also, he's utterly gorgeous. Tall. I have A Thing for tall guys, might be a reason none of my guys was under 2 meters. And in devil form Raphael is even taller. And so big. Need I say I wanna be all over him? Probably not, I am thirsty. I am horny and I want to cry so bad.

Poor sod deserves better. Deserves his actual real Tav. I know they'd love him so good. Kiss every inch of that man. Empty him like the last capri sun on the planet. Damn, they lucky. And I just have a finger under my chin and stare up into those damning eyes. Needs a licence for those, he does.

"Having second thoughts?"

Gah, I hate the soft insecurity in his voice. "Not about the – the thing itself no." Honesty, I whack myself internally. Honesty served me well so far. Gotta keep it up. "I wanna bang you so bad. 'til we both see stars and worse."

"But?"

"I know you think I'm your Tav. And man do I wish I was." I take his hand that holds my chin between mine. "But I'm not and you – you deserve better," I sigh. Can't hold his gaze either.

Waiting for him to react is the worst. My flight or flight instinct kicks in hard and my heart at least listens and pumps like mad. Thanks body.

Raphael is silent way too long. Probably having second thoughts himself and third thoughts and fourth thoughts, too. He's a crafty one. What am I even thinking? He got better things to do with his life than me. Which is why I can't let the Tav angle go. It's my one and only chance to get my hands on him. I am corrupt down to the bone. Or at least down to the cunt.

Doesn't help I had a taste already after amarettini and espresso. How he tastes so good, flavoured with almond and coffee. It's a small miracle we ended up in my room again and not in jail for public fornication. Coulda climbed him like a tree there and then.

"I appreciate your concern," he finally says. "It is very – consistent for you to put me and my feelings before yourself despite your obvious state. Please know that I acknowledge your worry, though I do not share it. Of course it is up to you, if you want to proceed. I will accept your withdrawal, much as it pains me. But you don't have to do anything more than let your gut guide you. Trust me."

How did he make so many words for before getting to the point. I get lost in his voice immediately and barely surface for the final 'trust me'.

"I do." Gods it is the most stupid thing ever. But I trust him. And I want to believe him, not only because his voice is utterly gorgeous but also because he says things I am desperate to hear. I want to believe so bad.

"Then, with that out of the way, you should ignore your misgivings for now. "

Wish it was that easy. Like, in theory it is, people making their own decisions, being their own people and you having to accept that. But it is hard to watch somebody you love, of fuck, I'm up in delulu-land further than the maps chart it. Still, it is hard to watch him throw himself uselessly at the nearest lump that looks like his Tav.

He must read my hesitation all wrong (unsurprising) because he takes my hand and brings it up to his lips. Damn demon devil. The way his index finger pokes into my palm is outrageously suggestive for it being mere hands. Good lord, sir what those fingers do?

"Maybe it will help bringing your memories back." He straightens with that predatory smile and my inhibitions don't even pretend to put up a fight.

"You fucked?"

"In a manner of speaking."

"You know that Tav fucking Haarlep and you fucking Haarlep in Tav's form isn't really you two fucking, yes?"

"Well," he grins like a wolf, "maybe it is time then to do the real thing."

In a swoosh of hellfire. Raphael transforms and also, sheds all of his clothes. I freeze except for my mouth that manages to go completely dry and water at the same time. Raphael's smile turns sharps as a knife as he points downwards. "Kneel."

Oh. Oh, hot damn, I will. I so will. But first – I cannot not touch him. His chest is broad and inviting and the skin is hot and all those ridges swirling everywhere. Gods strike me down if he didn't shudder when I placed my hand on him. He's burning under my fingers that move down his sides, up his arms and head. I can't reach very high on the horns but it doesn't matter. They feel alive under my palms, rugged.

The smile spreading on my face threatens to split it in half. Raphael is a sight. A whole banquet. More than I can hope to ever eat and most likely more than my mouth can hold. My hands round back over his shoulders, feathering over the collarbones. So many delicious ridges. I wanna bite them all. Nibble and munch until my jaw tires.

"Something you like?" His tone is only half mocking. "I am not used to having my orders disobeyed."

My eyes hitch on his mouth, that moves temptingly as he speaks. "Kiss me." I don't think. And when his hands alight on my sides, I jump at him, wrap myself around him any way possible and strain towards his lips.

Raphael laughs, low, and I feel it hum through my body. He takes it slow, lips tantalisingly out of reach until they meet mine ever so softly. I moan. He tastes so good. And as soon as his tongue demands tribute, I open up and swallow it whole.

Bad in bed whatever. He can kiss. If I didn't cling to him like a desperate koala, I would have melted into a puddle on the floor. As things are. My with feet hooked at the small of his back my legs can go as wobbly as they want. I am secure against him, ruining my pants and trousers too. Totes worth it.

He pries me off way too soon. The coronas in his black hole eyes burst with fire. "On your knees," he repeats and the low rumble is in itself enough to send me to the floor.

Not quickly, mind you. Can't pass on the chance to kiss all them ridges. And that is obviously allowed. My hand vanguards between his legs and damn. He's big. He's full of bumps and ridges I can't wait to pommel my insides with. But first – the chest. Only a little hair remains, but I'll take it.

As long as my head is on a slow descent, I can nibble on the red skin wherever. Don't care if my moans are louder than his. I'm in heaven. His problem now. Then I reach the happy trail and boy does it make me happy. I want to slurp it up, swoosh down and suck up the whole devil cock first.

Taking time is so hard, but then, so is he. Oh how delicious to arrive at a full on erection. My fingers mover over the pronounced ridges, feeling for future pleasure as I lean in. He's got a little crown of bumps just under the tip that looks absolutely delish.

A hand slips under my chin and raises my head. "Look at me."

Oh hot damn, if that's how he wants to play it. I lock my eyes to his and slip my lips over the very tip of his cock ever so slowly. He's so very still I can feel the tremble of his muscles tense to keep in place. I press the tip of my tongue against his tip, move it slowly, keep his eyes caught. This is a battle of wills he won't win.

Listen, I may be a little out of practice but I know my stuff. And he's signalling like nobody's business. Gods, he tastes so good, little burning flecks of precum on my tongue and the way he shivers when my tongue laps it up.

My head moves on without breaking eye contact. His cock slips in easy and deep and my tongue can't get on to those ridges fast enough. I'm sucking him like a lollipop. Every inch is to be explored, tasted, caressed. Rumbling sounds fall over me from above and only entice me to go down deeper. I want all of him inside of me and if this is how it happens, I will swallow.

His hands tangle in my hair. Gotta hand it to a guy who can find purchase in a pix cut. Not that it'll help him any. I help myself liberally to all of his cock abolishing my gagging reflex on the spot. Ain't nobody got no time for that.

I suck him in as deep as I can and then some because I am greedy. I want all of him and that's what I'll have and if it kills me. I don't care. I suck him in hard, deep and hungry. My teeth hitch on the ridges. My hands tighten on his balls and I wanna wring him dry, crush him like a lemon in the squeezer. Mine now. All mine.

Raphael's hands close on over my scalp. I am rabid. Clawed fingers press in tightly. I feel the nails pierce my skin as I go all in. The pain is familiar and exquisite. Unlike the fire erupting into my mouth, running down my throat like whiskey and chili.

I gulp it down as if I hadn't just feasted on the finest Mediterranean food. Gotta keep going. The cock is easier to take now that it softens and damned if I won't gurgle it down to the hilt. I'm almost offended when he pulls me up and definitely too short when he bends to kiss me.

Doesn't deter Raphael the least. He's big (oh yeah) and strong and just stands me on the bed so we can smooch good. He's sucking his taste from my mouth as if I stole it. Well, I'll gladly give him all I got. Also, I'm having an advantage because my hands run over hot skin (oh those swirling ridges!) and I'm still dressed.

His fingers bunch the fabric of my shirt and his tail wraps around my right ankle. Oh that's driving me wild. I'd be moaning all over the place if my mouth wasn't busy exploring every inch of devil it can reach. Little tugs of the tail in reaction to what goes on further up. Enough to turn my knees into pudding.

Raphael pushes me back a little, running a hand down the button tab. A knowing smirk plays over his lips. I wanna kiss that away. I wanna drink it up until it fills my whole existence. And he knows. Raphael tilts his head a little. "Open up."

Oh there is good reason that line isn't in the game spoken by him. I'd open up my legs wide no questions asked. Unfortunately, he's still looking at my shirt. Reluctantly I take my hands back to myself. If that's what he wants, he can have it. Gods, this guy can have everything. (Doesn't he know it.)

I hold his gaze and open the first button. Very slowly. I can see the fire flare up in his eyes. I can also feel his adventurous little tail move up my leg. The next button and another upwards slide wraps the tail around my knee. Raphael's grin a threat and a treat. Sweet hells. I can't even slow down any further because I started at least possible speed.

My fingers play with the next button and the tip of his tail dances against the inside of my thigh. Swallowing hard, I open the button and let the caress of skin snaking around my thigh wash over me. Two buttons left to go.

The second to last button brings him up against my cunt. The tail has no problems slipping between my folds; I'm wet as a waterfall.

I open the last button and nothing happens. I cock my head in a question and Raphael motions to brush the shirt of my shoulders. With a dry mouth I do and as soon as the fabric crests my shoulders, he moves in. His tail is hot, smooth and prehensile. I drop the worst moan ever as my knees give in, shirt hanging forgotten at half-mast.

Raphael catches me. Shirt forgotten he buries his face against mine again, tongue digging deep as his tail. My hands are on his chest again, gripping and grappling. Raphael pulls me close. His left bunches my shirt behind my back, trapping my hands as he bears down for another kiss. I'm flush against him, and my mans is working up an erection again already.

My cunt rises like a neon invitation. I arch perfectly against his chest, diabolical alchemy, I'm sure. Can't think further with my cunt full of tail and moth full of tongue – both slithering and slipping and demanding.

Clawed hands move down my sides, leaving red trails of fire. His fingers close in on my pussy and while I am all for that, he is in his cambion form. Pain is fine in moderation but there is some things I am not ready for yet.

"Before you can even think of putting any of those in down there, we gotta file of the claws," I gasp. In retaliation, I get his index finger into my mouth I suck down hard and accept the middle finger that follows.

His left still presses me against him, tail working up my cunt and fingers down my throat I hang on by that thread. I'm overflowing. I still need more. And he's generous. Boy is he giving. I may not be stuffed, but I am not empty either. My walls clench taking what they can and my mouth is muffled by fingers and want as he bends me backwards.

I fall freely and unworried. Hit the mattress soft enough. Barely registers through my horny haze as I rut at him like the last freak alive. He tastes so good. I wanna suck his mouth dry as well. Doing my best. Getting paid in hungry growls. Oh we feasting tonight.

Then he goes down. Not even slow. Skips all the in-between steps (it's fine, nothing to see there) to breathe hot air over my clit. And before I finished gasping out a hopeful moan, his tongue descended and I am deceased.

Doesn't matter if he'll come two thrusts in. I'm fucked already, writhing like a snake on silk sheets, getting nowhere but deeper into desire. Devil down there hums, send that reverberation into my bones through my sogging wet pussy. I'm so far gone, I can't even wish for him to finish me off.

Raphael's mouth works my clit as if I won't ever need it again, hungry tongue making short work of my arousal. I clench around the tip of his tail, riding on waves of ecstasy. Best night of my life.

[drdemonprince]

Hi Dr, I remember reading your article about how you would read very hateful/harmfulblogs in your time over lockdown, is there anyway to shake those ideas just stumbled upon a fashy account and just felt so weak and like I really was those things even though I know it’s all wrong

(For the uninitiated, I read a lot of detrans TERF blogs during my medical detransition phase early into the pandemic -- I also did this prior to transitioning back in 2016-17 as well.)

I never believed anything that I read on those blogs. They pissed me the hell off, and reading them and arguing with their authors in my mind helped me eventually arrive at a place of greater confidence in myself.

Many of the most outspoken members of those hate movements that I used to read have now left the TERF world, thankfully, and some are deeply committed to taking accountability for all that they've done and sharing every page from the detrans TERF playbook that they helped write. (Ky Schevers is one of them -- I don't expect anybody else to forgive her. But I think the work she's doing now is valuable and worth reading up on. But it's also okay if you think i'm a rube for thinking that.).

Reading detrans TERF blogs was certainly a means of lingering in a dark place intentionally, for me -- but it was almost a means of externalizing my very worst fears of how others might see me or think of me onto another source that I could pick apart and argue with. It certainly helped that many of the detrans TERFs that I read had lives that were transparently a mess, ruined by their destructive, obsessive worldview.

So on balance, I can't really say reading these sites itself did me all that much harm. It was the ambient transphobia of greater society that hurt me, and forced me to hate and doubt myself, and reading outright bigots who were ruining their own lives with their ideologies actually helped create more of a will to resist them within me. The fact I was a debate team kid who was very well accustomed to knowing my enemy and internally shadow boxing with them at all times also helped. i LIKE arguing. i like picking ill conceived claims apart. hell, i even like being angry and disdainful!

But that's certainly not the case for everyone. Many people internalize the negative messages that they read, if not intellectually then emotionally. I was already hurting emotionally a ton when I found myself consuming these writings, but it wasn't their arguments that did that. it was things like being rejected by my family and being in a real emotional dead-end of a straight relationship that was causing me that despair.

I think for most people, if you're in a pretty raw or vulnerable spot, the best thing to do is not read sites like these, and to block the people who create them. My fixation with TERF blogs was a special interest, and some special interests are fraught and weird and that's okay. but it doesn't sound like engaging with this topic is beneficial or even neutral for you. so id find something else to fixate on that gets your mind going but doesn't hurt your heart. maybe get into some meaningless discourse in a fandom or be toxic to people on call of duty (a methadone that i've also tried, to some success) if you need that kind of intensity but don't wanna hurt yourself.

[robinsnest2111]

Fic anon here, just wanted to say that you totally shouldn't be ashamed of how you reacted, the fic meant alot to you and suddenly it was gone, your totally untitled to feel upset! Trust me I was too, their fics where a huge inspiration to me too.

And also, I'm so glad you like my afterlife AU!!, so I haven't exactly hashed out all the details but I can tell you some things that I do know about it so far in no particular order.

Mick is the first one to die, he spends about a year by himself and is of the assumption that he'll be alone for all eternity as a punishment for not only his current life, but all his past lives aswell ( you know how he talks about having lived different lives in the dirt with the midnight gardner?)

Nikki shows up next and boy is this a difficult thing for him to accept. Not only that he's stuck in purgatory with his ex-bandmate that he personally axed and shit talked but he doesn't know that if he'll ever get to talk to anybody else he loves ever again.

The funny part to me is that, Mick is over their argument already, even though he's the victim and he just kinda wants to get on with all his little projects he's started and Nikki is the one that's mad about it?? Like, what do you mean your over it we're not done here! (Nikki still thinks he's in the right)

Mick at some point saves all of the guys asses from demons or skinwalkers that live in purgatory.

Tommy is the third to show up, and all he can say is dude for like three minutes in disbelief before, Mick snaps (slaps) him out of it.

When Mick was still alone on the farm, he had to fix everything and do every chore so at one point he had to fix the wiring for the electricity and when Vince finally shows up he has a fucking heartattack from how botched the wiring is (since he's a trained electricion and Mick is more of a mechani) and Mick is just behind him going, oh it's not that bad!

Mick doesn't have back pain in the afterlife!

They all ended up in the same afterlife because their soulmates, but they don't know this. Honestly don't know if I should have them figure it out.

They have a little cow that's very sassy that Mick named little fucker because she kicked him.

The terror twins reunited almost burn down the barn on tommys first day in the afterlife.

Anon!!!! I love love love! what you've got so far !!! everything feels very Them, I can picture it SO WELL!

esp. the part where Mick is over the whole getting kicked out of the band and getting slandered and lied about thing already, but Nikki is still stewing in the conflict juices lol in my mind's eye I can see Nikki arriving to the farm, seeing Mick and immediately laying into him, demanding to have all of this explained, getting right back into the drama etc. after a while Mick just turns around to head into the farmhouse (maybe it's hot out and he doesn't want to stand in the bright sun any longer). Nikki yells after him, staying in place like "Hey! We're not done here yet!" Mick doesn't acknowledge him until his ex bandmate has run out of steam and only then does he turn around to ask, in a tired deadpan voice: "You coming? It's cooler inside and I made lemonade this morning. Don't wanna let it go to waste." And Nikki's all speechless but eventually walks up to the house as well. And then he'll glare daggers at Mick the whole time they drink their glasses of lemonade, kinda like the Jamie Lee Curtis meme:

he'd probably be so ready to start up the discussion but then takes a sip of the lemonade and it's actually so good he's silently mad (and a little surprised) that Mick can just make something so delicious. Mick probably knew good lemonade would shut Nikki right up so he can have a few moments more of peace and quiet before the task of trying to explain this mystery and adjusting to (after)life with Nikki on the farm lol

(sorry I've been thinking about possible details and snippets like that ALL DAY orz)

And Vince losing his marbles over the haphazard way Mick's wired the whole farm lmao!!! I can totally see him going "Well, it has worked fine so far!" and Vince letting out a strangled and very much distressed groan hehe

And the cow omgggg <333 Little fucker ftw! the urge to draw her is strong

anon, please, notify me ASAP when you post the first chapter, gonna devour that SO FAST 🙏

[queen-mihai]

I think they should all be making $25 an hour. $30 even.

The argument against giving poor people more money is so absolutely moronic that it's hard to even believe.

RICH PEOPLE END UP GETTING THE MONEY ANYWAY

Business owners are business owners. They own the business. The money comes to them. When you buy something from the business, the owner gets the money. And as a matter of fact, with more of us having more money, there's a good chance the rich people would have MORE money.

It probably wouldn't even get to them any slower. There's no freaking downside to giving people enough money to thrive.

"But what if they abuse.."

BITCH we've figured out ways around just about every problem mankind has ever faced. The only damn thing that would happen is people who used to not be able to afford treatment could finally afford it. Plus when people can afford to do shit other than sit around the house all day, drugs start to look pretty damn stale and stupid for the most part. As long as some lawmakers "trying to make a point" don't start fucking up the execution on purpose.

"But this has never been tri.."

It's been tried. It's been proven. Name it. Somebody somewhere has shown that good policies work popular policies are popular for a damn reason. Stop listening to whiney politicians who can't keep their job if people actually get out and vote. Those "leaders" don't have your best interest in mind. They don't have you in mind at all. They want to forget you exist, coast on their title, and keep collecting money until they can't anymore.

"But where's the money gonna come from?"

MOST of it is gonna come from capping corporate salaries. Hire a team of economists and accountants and have them come up with just how much any specific executive should ACTUALLY be earning. Then, have the lawmakers make that the law. Then, have the IRS, backed by our overly militarized police force, enforce that law. The rest comes through taxes on the wealthiest people and actually enforcing those taxes instead of just writing loopholes and calling them laws.

"Isn't that 'big government' though?"

Duuuuude you've gotta see. The amount of mental health crises that are tied to fears about money is too damn high. Giving people money will help so many things in so many different ways that you barely need all that much government.

Here's a story for you.

I once ran a group of over 600 people online.

I had like 2 active mods.

We barely ever had to boot anybody. DO YOU KNOW WHY?

Because when a group is run well, when it feels nice PEOPLE WANT TO KEEP IT NICE. You can hire fewer police because people will self police. You can hire fewer IRS agents once rich people get used to the new system because actually paying their taxes made them RICHER. You can give people jobs like inspector of food safety if anything and just like have them making sure everything is running OK. Probably help the businesses they inspect make more money too because safe food is good and good food makes people wanna buy it and people buying more food makes the business more money.

Maybe you wouldn't need so many agencies spying on people if people actually had money cuz then what are they plotting?

Half of the stuff we are used to these days is only a thing BECAUSE of the shitty system we're used to.

You want to shrink the government? Give people money enough to thrive and watch the need for huge expensive government services dwindle.

It's not big government. Because giving people money would help shrink the government.

It's not fiscal responsibility. Because the best ones to decide what people need to spend money on is the people themselves. Plus these systems pretty quickly pay for themselves.

It's not even "making sure the right people get money and the wrong people don't" because those "wrong people" who may be living in America? Yeah they're spending that money IN AMERICA. So guess who gets it? Americans. Rich Americans.

It's only EVER about suffering. The rich CAN'T STAND for anyone poorer than them to be happy. If they can't monopolize the very concept of "joy" and keep it for themselves, the world is falling apart. I'm not talking Michael Jordan rich. I'm talking jeff bezos rich. Jeff doesn't want people to be happy. If he did, he wouldn't have his workers peeing in bottles.

No. jeff Wants people working for him to suffer because if he creates a hole in them, then the hole he has in himself might not feel as big.

Same with musk

Same with zuck

Same with any of these idiots who can't think of anything better to do with their life than to keep collecting money.

My answer to somebody who doesn't want a barista making $15-20-30 per hour?

Stop drinking the kool-aid. musk ain't about to make you rich. He's lying to you. So are the rest of the billionaires

[caelumsnuff]

TW for mentions of pedophilia and rape

Hey, in case anybody needs a reminder of where I stand on this issue: Caelum is an adult.

I’ve been saying he’s an adult since before the timeline dropped, and that interpretation is even more concrete after it. Being an adult, it is completely and entirely appropriate to treat him like one and put him in adult situations, be it NSFW or SFW, violence or sexuality, or whatever else.

Even if he was not an adult, it is not a wrongdoing to make art of him that would be immoral or even illegal if it was mirrored in real life, because he is not real. The fiction you consume or make is not reflective of your morals or who you are as a person, and nobody needs to lay bare their demons for you to not harass them over fictional art of fictional characters.

If you think it's okay to harass random people for making art you don't like existing, you do not belong here. If you think it's okay to call people pedophiles over fictional content of fictional characters, you do not belong here. If you think it's okay to call people pedophiles over a fictional 24 year old man, you do not belong here.

Do you still wanna make serious accusations towards people over the fiction they make/enjoy? Do you think it's inappropriate to write/draw Caelum in sexual situations because you think he can't consent? Well there's a word for when adults can't/don't consent to sexual activity, its "rape".

You people seem to not care when people write fictional content with rape in it even when it's meant for sexual gratification though, considering you're all still here in Erik's fandom. Haven't seen anyone point fingers at Erik and calling him a rapist for the content he writes, but i guess you guys did harass him into admitting he was sexually assaulted for you to finally get off his back about it, so i can't expect much. You are not helping sexual assault victims by forcing people to admit to being victims publicly so that their art is considered permissible by your standards. You help exactly zero CSA victims by comparing real life exploitation, assault, and rape of children to fanfiction of a fictional character (much less fanfiction of a fictional 24 year old).

This post is not going to be rebloggable because i am not going to entertain argumentative people with responses to something that my stance is completely and utterly settled on. I have explained my stance in several different places, several different times. If you are still incapable of understanding or comprehending my stance after i have made myself this clear on it, you are either 1) purposefully interpreting my words and actions in bad faith to suit your own agenda and your preconceptions of me or 2) you are so different from myself that you and i will never agree on this subject and there is no point even discussing it.

[transsexualhamlet]

001 for bsd 002 for dead apple trio 003 for shibusawa <33

Hihihi!! :3 :3 Ask game

001: BSD

Favorite character: It would be very difficult to come up with a favorite character of all time for bsd theres just SO many blorbos to choose from but um. Fyodor is my top blorbo

Least Favorite character: This is a no brainer but I just cannot stand fukuchi I know there's a lot of points about legitimate political themes but also I'm sorry I cannot take an old man who makes fart jokes seriously about anything

5 favorite ships: Fyogol Fyozai Atsuluaku (I think lucy could fix shin soukoku) dead apple trio and the whole DOA polycule ehehe gay people

Character I find most attractive: chuuya HANDS DOWN. No argument I will not be taking constructive criticism I am on my knees for this man

Character I would marry: ALSO CHUUYA but if i had to choose someone different, Lucy. I love them both so fucking much and I think they are actually good loveable fun and interesting people

Character I would be best friends with: Akutagawa or Fyodor. My type of best friend is wet cat i picked up out of the gutter I would fix them up good I promise

A random thought: God the tik tok fandom of bsd is absolutely rancid and it's really just a wasteland of people fighting each other tooth and nail for chuuya nakahara custody since literally everyone is convinced they're the only one who understands him and then proceeds to give the worst takes ever on him

Unpopular opinion: Mori is in general a good person and he really and truly wants the best for the city and for the world and the world he lives in has forced him to make very bad decisions, he has decided to be the bad guy for the world to function and near anyone else in his position would fucking crumble. He is fair and kind and allows the least amount of suffering possible though he knows that he does not deserve forgiveness for the things he has had to do. Without him the world would go to shit so fast.

Canon otp: I mean, there's not any canon ships in bsd really, but in terms of Most canon I would probably consider fukumori or shin soukoku? I love soukoku too but you know im Picky about it

Non-canon otp: ah yes the these characters have had One (1) interaction but they're fucking. Fyoya and Nikozai and also Sigzai i fucking love them

Most badass character: IM SORRY BRO ITS STILL HANDS DOWN CHUUYA HES TAKING ALL THE AWARDS TONIGHT CHUUYA CAN USE ME AS A FUCKING DOORMAT

Most Epic villain: Nikolai ofc he's 100 percent the most unhinged motherfucker in the cast and I am bonded to him on a molecular level Help

Pairing I am not a fan of: I feel like I've been over this a lot and at this point I just don't wanna make anybody sad bc I know people who ship just about everything sane and normal so you know you do you as long as it's not fucking gross yknow

Character I feel the writers screwed up: Teruko could have been an absolute girlboss if they didn't give her the. I don't know the. The Fukuchi Thing why did they do that seriously what why

Favorite friendship: Yes yes Dazai and Oda very much so Dazai and Oda but hAVE YOU CONSIDERED Chuuya and the flags. I'm all holding them so tightly you don't even fucking understand. They're so important

Character I most identify with: :|. Nikolai and Dazai. I should not be allowed in public spaces

Character I wish I could be: YOU ALREADY KNOW WHO IM GONNA SAYITS FUCKING CHUUYA. There's not many people in bsd whose situations/mental states I really envy tbh. Dazai is crusty and sad and I don't want to ever see the state of his apartment. Fyodor is even sicker than me. Akutagawa's on the brink of death at all times. Being Ranpo would kill me because I would not be able to keep up the illusion of having an ability and I wouldn't be able to handle the thought that I didn't have one and everyone else did. All my kins are so sad and sick and in awful situations except CHUUYA who is being BADASS and MAKING BANK and GETTING BITCHES. Yes, he has obviously had so much tragedy in his life and he has very much suffered but the fact remains that he has gone through it and come out even stronger than before. He's such a guy I want to be him so bad

002: Dead Apple Trio :))

When I started shipping them: Literally the second I met these guys I was like Oh They're Fucking. All thru the first time I watched dead apple it just. More and more. These fuckers gay as shit

My thoughts: I looove them so much and they are so fucking terrible they're awful people and they love terrorism and genocide and being queercoded villains. They're in their big gothic spire doing gay crimes. Everything they do is labeled under 'consensual but not safe or sane'

What makes me happy about them: I love thinking of them all as some flavor of transfem nonbinary and they are so queer and gnc girlbosses that did nothing wrong they're so important to me shibusawa designed their wedding dresses and dead apple is the honeymoon

What makes me sad about them: I mean, I usually just call them girlbosses and call it a day but the thing is, the one thing that really brings them together is their fucking mental illness. Without unmedicated depression, unconventional takes on religion, and several personality disorders each, those three would never even talk to each other. The reason they care so much for each other is because they're the only ones who truly understand each other, they can see through each other's lies and straight to their rotted empty fucking ribcages. They only come together when they're at their absolute worst. They probably met at a sleazy gay bar and if it weren't for all their own grand schemes, at the slightest negative emotion they would just meet up there again and lace all their drinks with cyanide

Things done in fanfic that annoys me: I mean. There's like 20 fanfics in the dead apple trio tag total, and 90 percent of them annoy the shit out of me, but yknow. I don't like it when they treat Dazai like some sort of victim in this situation, like, no he is 100 percent into this. This is normal for him and he signed up to get stabbed. Also people who think Shibusawa tops anyone are dumb as shit look at those acrylic nails sh;drgsfdoig

Things I look for in fanfic: IF IT'S NOT PRETENTIOUS AS SHIT, I'M NOT INTERESTED HSDIFHDS but seriously I think the important thing to realize is that this trio is that they're each other's bad habit. Most of the time they're totally clean of each other but every once and a while they will just fall into that hole again and come together to dig it deeper and deeper. They're awful for each other and nothing can save them. As much as the porn is good I wish there were more fics that had actual plots for them

My wishlist: I mean. Shibusawa is kind of dead for realsies now so it's not like they'll meet again anyway and I don't think I need them to be any more canon than they are, yknow? That's how I feel with most of my ships because like. There's already soo much subtext there for me, but if it was explicit, it would literally just be demonizing queer people and queer relationships and would be taken completely wrong and I think. It's just fine the way it is bc to me it is very clear they're gay sdhighdfs

Who I'd be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: I mean,, I don't know if I can really see a hypothetical Happy Ending for any of these guys. Perhaps there might be one for Dazai, if he can keep his shit together from now on, but not for both. I really do like the idea of both Fyodor and Dazai living and having to attempt to fix each other together, I really do, although I don't think Nikolai would survive in that situation :(, but that's not something that would happen in canon lol. Fyozai will either die together with Nikolai or it'll be Dazai alone. In that case, I think Dazai should be with Kunikida. They would actually be good for each other, I really do think that.

My happily ever after for them: There is NO happily ever after for the dead apple trio, as much as it's sad to say, there really and truly isn't. They're not good for each other, they're not a sustainable polycule as much as they love each other. Fyozai could hypothetically move on together and mourn Shibusawa, but there's no way they'd be good with him alive, there just isn't.

003 Shibusawa !!! Ok this is hard he interacts with like 3 people

How I feel about this character: Shibusawa sucks and I love him. He's a pillow princess. He's my wife. He tortures children but he would be a good mom I swear. He wants an e-z bake oven. He is an international terrorist but he is also a crazy cat lady. He walked into yokohama to start the apocalypse dressed like a cottagecore grandma with a million dollars of stolen jewelry in his purse and got called the t slur ten seconds before the fog came. I hate him hes my favorite he uses his science skills to create estrogen laced cupcakes

Any/all people I ship romantically with this character: Obviously Fyodor and Dazai but also Ivan. Shibusawa needed like a body double for some plot and Fyodor was like "I've got this crazy weirdo with long white hair who looks a lot like you, I can rent him out for five dollars an hour" and they hit it off like nobody's business. Now Shibusawa uses him as a crazy gay test subject for his unethical experiments and they kiss and Ivan is madly in love with him

My unpopular opinion about this character: I don't know why people hate Shibusawa so much. On international women's day week too?? Im sorry women can do anything. I'm all for awful evil women, Shibusawa included. Genuinely I don't get how anyone could think Shibusawa is like. A man. One thing you have to understand about me. Is that Shibusawa is my wife

One thing I wish would happen/had happened with this character in canon: I WANT HIM TO WEAR A DRESS. BIG DRESS. POOFY FANCY DRESS. VICTORIAN BALLGOWN. HE DESERVES IT. HE WOULD LOVE IT

Favorite friendship for this character: I think that Shibusawa and Nikolai would be good friends. They gush about Fyodor and Nikolai is Shibusawa's crazy friend who gives him all his awful ideas and Shibusawa encourages everything. Also there's my and my friend's ocs Fran and Kafu who are both. Around Shibusawa ™ but that's a whole nother story. Fran is his younger cousin who helps him exist and Kafu is this absolutely insane fucking creature who's deeply in love with him and is in his walls

Crossover ship: I have never thought about this ever before but after some consideration. Albert Moriarty. I think they would get along well. I really do think they would get absolutely fucking wasted and Shibusawa would get fucking railed after they talked about how much they hated rich people and killing rich people and stealing rich people's money to kill more people and how fucked up the world is and how they wanna die

[kris-p-banana-bread]

Here DOAFP fandom, have some organic, locally-sourced, home-grown pain. This is basically just me, a scarred older sibling, projecting on Bobby, another scarred older sibling. I really reached into my post-loss psyche for this, so I hope you enjoy the headcanons and meta (AKA I hope you shed at least one tear).

It won’t let me link it here so the post that inspired this is under the read more at the bottom ✨

- When I first watched doafp, I couldn't understand Elena's aversion to Sam becoming a prominent figure in her mom's and her life. Now I understand it almost too perfectly. There was never supposed to be someone after Robert. He and Gabi were deeply in love and happy. Robert was it; he was the first and true love of Gabi's life. Sam showing up probably felt like a huge and utterly disrespectful slap in the face of Robert's memory, because he wasn't even supposed to be there. I don't know if that's as eloquent as I wish it was, or if it makes sense, and it probably sounds really mean to Sam, but it's not even really about him. It was always supposed to be Robert; Sam hasn’t earned the right to be apart of or associated with her family

- After Robert dies, Gabi and Bobby make it a habit to find and keep photos and recordings/videos of Robert, even if the latter only has him saying one sentence. They won't make Elena join them for the search, but after they find some of those old audios of Robert, they'll sometimes play them back for little Elena

- Bobby put up the keep out sign (I credit this to a few other blogs for discussing this tho) because that's where he would cry sometimes. He actually used to be pretty close with Elena, but after he put up that sign and started distancing himself from them a bit so they wouldn't see the times he cracked, he got a little more short and jaded with her. It's that, plus just growing into a teenager and stuff. And I'm not saying that he and Elena have a bad relationship, but he's become more snappy and has more walls up than he used to

- Sometimes Elena feels bad because she doesn't always remember her dad's voice. She was pretty young when he died, so even though she recalls it a bit, and the recordings help, it's been a while since she's talked to him in person, so of course she doesn't quite remember what it's like to actually talk to Robert and she's forgotten some of his mannerisms. She likes to think she's all done (she marked the stages down in her grief journal after all) but grief isn't linear or all that rational, so it hits her hard sometimes

- I keep reading as an action close to my heart because that's a strong bond me and my mom shared. She would rec books to me, and we would joke and talk about them, or she would hint to some future event and then refuse to tell me until I caught up to that part. So Elena and Bobby do something similar in their grief. Elena has writing and words, because that's something Robert loved if I remember correctly (but if I’m not and that’s not canon, then I now declare it so) and Bobby has tennis. But besides tennis (I sent a couple anons to @freshlybakedfandoms about it but I'm not sure where she went) Bobby also was taught to play guitar by Robert (I liken it to Devi Vishwakumar and her harp) so when he misses his dad or is just sad, he'll take out his dad's old acoustic and strum

- (This next one is something I also think a lot about so this is pretty much 98% projection) Bobby thinks sometimes about the fact that he was never able to come out to his dad. He hadn't really started growing into that part of himself yet, and he never got to show it to his father. He wonders what he would have thought of him. Would he be angry? Would he dismiss him and say it was just a phase? Bobby didn't think so, but a little part of him insisted that you could never be too sure. After he comes out, Gabi and Cami assure him that Robert would've been so proud of him and would've loved him regardless (Since we know virtually nothing about him, I maintain that Robert was one of those dads who teases their kid relentlessly about their crushes and I think he would've done that with Bobby and eventually Elena)

- When Elena's quince rolls around (if she chooses to have one of course), Sam dances with her during the father-daughter dance. A part of her still hurts, still aches and wishes that Robert were dancing with her too; still knows on some fundamental level that he and Gabi had planned for this day, but he had simply never made it. But she's known Sam long enough that she feels comfortable here. Nobody can replace Robert, but Sam is her family, and it feels right like this.

- I might do some more research and deliberate, but for the moment I'm saying that Robert had cancer, I’m thinking along the lines of colon. My mom was terminal, but idk if I should make Robert terminal? Maybe towards the end. Or maybe he was diagnosed as incurable early on but Gabi kept it from the kids because, tbh, being told your parent is balancing on that kind of edge is traumatic for them. So anyways, I’m going on that assumption for this last point, and I’ll see if I can recover some of my old knowledge and talk about technical stuff later if anybody would like to hear it

- Elena and Bobby were both pretty young. Bobby understood about PET scans and tests somewhat, and knew generally what different answers from doctors meant. Elena mainly just understood what was happening by reading her parents' and brother's expressions when getting lab results in from the doctor. They both remember on some level what it was like when Gabi would leave the kids with Cami and take Robert out to the car (later she would have to help him) and they would all feel like they were holding their breath until they got back and confirmed that everything was ok (and later, the little shocks of fear when the answers were no longer as positive and there was more apprehension and risks. After all, cancer doesn’t deal in absolutes)

- Bobby can still remember Robert when he had to stop walking around a lot. He still remembers the phone call that Cami got from his mom, saying that something had gone wrong, and if this last treatment didn’t work, he wouldn’t have much time before he passed. Still remembers Cami rushing into a room when she got that call, and trying to hide what was happening until Gabi could get home and explain it; but Bobby was a sharp kid believe it or not. He heard about the treatment, heard Cami crying. He still had hope... but when Robert came home in a gurney, when he could barely stay awake sometimes, when his voice was quiet and his skin was a little jaundiced, Bobby felt incredibly empty. But Robert always had a smile for his wife and his beautiful kids, even if it was small and very tired, his eyes still crinkled the same. He always had a smile; right up until they had to say goodnight and get some sleep one night. And then... he passed.

- After he passed, the Cañero-Reeds needed help, and a lot of Gabi’s coworkers would bring food or materials if they were running low. Cami and Danielle would babysit and would distract the kids when Gabi needed a good cry.

- Like you’d imagine, and because of what is sort of implied in canon and in my own head, the kids dealt with it in different ways. Bobby put up that sign, and withdrew. He wasn’t awful, but his patience with certain people got a bit shorter and he was a bit quieter. And he was a really good helper when he had the energy and he cared deeply, but he would sometimes get physically and emotionally exhausted after helping Gabi/Elena/Cami/anybody else with something and would go into his room or mentally tap out to recharge. He took comfort in things that seemed natural and that he sometimes took for granted before, like video games and skateboarding (hehe bobby skateboards. Anybody second me on this?) and clothes etc... and other stuff. A lot of materialistic things or experiences that he would skip out on before. But they bring normalcy back to his life now so he loves them for that.

- Bobby doesn’t wanna think about big themes or anything anymore, which I can’t remember but I think it was Vi (freshlybakedfandoms, again, idk where she is and I hope she’s ok) who said he was a math and science person and I think that as much as that could transfer over to those subjects as well, it’s much harder to avoid existential and emotional themes in English and History class and Bobby doesn’t like it as much as Elena does for that reason. He had to live with the back and forth of his dad’s treatments and tests, so math and science is comforting because it’s more concrete (There could be a million arguments for why he would distrust math and science because of his dad’s passing though, I realize) Ultimately, though, it reminds him of Robert too much.

- On the other hand, after a period of shock and confusion, Elena threw herself into new things. First it was a grief journal, to make sure she was going through the motions. Then she read a lot, and when she felt too alone or like she wasn’t doing enough, like she was stagnant, she’d just find something to focus and persevere on again. That feels like her personality type to me; something is wrong so let’s fix it right away. But that could also transfer sort of negatively into “Something feels off or I’m very sad, let’s get this thing done and be productive so we can put off having to confront that but at least we get work out of it” but I could be entirely wrong (this is based off some of my family members and how they dealt with the loss.) And Elena throws herself into history and english because her dad loved it, and she wants to remember more of him. Because she believes words have power and history is a lesson and that’s incredibly interesting for her

[themareverine]

wow. you're really that unwilling to understand what i am saying, aren't you? maybe just set aside your argumentation and listen to what i am trying to explain, yeah?

i am saying what the film wants us to gather is that she is justified in her cheating with Logan based on a scene. i am not saying this is my personal stance. i, in fact, think it's wrong. but this is why we have the chopsticks scene. it is justification for us, the audience. we're supposed to think it's okay because she doesn't love her fiance. we're supposed to turn a blind eye.

what i am also saying is that Logan is not a moral saint. he never has been. so this is very in character for him, first, to not only not care that Mariko is engaged (even though, again, the film has "justified" this for us with that scene). second, to hold her fiance to a double standard even when he's been the vehicle for the exact same behavior. as far as i am concerned, Logan is as much to blame as anyone else, but my point is this shouldn't be a surprise to anybody.

we have to accept that heroes do and are capable of doing things we don't agree with. they're, after all, designed to be human. they make mistakes. and unfortunately for Logan, he doesn't seem to have an issue being with women who are taken.

and if you really wanna dive into it, it could be argued that the only reason Logan slept with her in the first place is because he's gone years without intimacy. the entire movie he's grappling with losing Jean and getting over her, so it could be argued that he was emotionally vulnerable and Mariko seized on a prime opportunity. now, i don't think that's what personally happened, but there's an argument to be made if you wanted to.

if you're looking to mudsling Logan and villainize him, go ahead. everyone knows Logan is an anti-hero, and that's why a lot of people like him. that's why i like him. i personally like my heroes morally challenged, it leaves them more room to grow and more room for redemption.

just....don't hurt yourself. bye.

Logan: (successfully) chases women who are not single

Also Logan: Don't cheat on your fiancé, bro.

[tory-ben-hi-shelton]

my favourite quotes from exposure

Multiple sets of handcuffs appeared and were applied. Bailiffs began peeling off the dog-pile like layers of an onion. And there, at the bottom of the scrum, was Kit. He was panting like a marathoner, arms still wrapping the Gamemaster's legs in a death grip. He'd clearly been the first to react.

"Oh, man!" Shelton had both hands on his dome. He seemed winded, despite not having moved during the attack. "Things just got real in here."

"Sorry I froze in there, Tor." Shelton frowned as he shirt wiped his glasses. "Not exactly my 'One Shining Moment', huh?" I waved off his apology. I knew Shelton hated how skittish he could be.

I try to hide the eruptions, but the guys can always tell. They do their best to support me even though it makes them uncomfortable. It's very sweet, but teenage boys make lousy grief counsellors.

The previous semester, Ben had been in half our classes, too, despite being a junior. Obviously, he was no longer around. Sometimes it felt like a limb was missing.

"Jason might be there," Courtney chirped. "He likes you."

"Oh." Not a brilliant response. "Yeah, maybe. I might have a thing, though."

Wonderful. Good job, good effort, Tory.

Behind me, I heard Hi fake coughing to cover his snickers

"I should be a secret agent." Hi blew on his fingernails, then buffed them on his lapel. "Or a magician. Maybe both. Someone write that down."

My hands shot for the Ray-Bans, but Ben caught my fingers mid-flight.

"It's not nice to grab," he said calmly.

"I can't handle all this tension," Shelton moaned. "Too much fighting."

Hi nodded, watching Ben dissapear down a side street. "We need to work on our conflict management. Maybe attend a seminar."

"Make your own?" Hi shifted to look at my face. "Victoria Grace, have you been holding out on me?"

"Tell me everything."

"You're not gonna be happy," Hi warned. "Don't kill the messenger."

"Or his good-looking buddy," Shelton added.

"On Saturday Ben and I drove to John's Islands to see Skyfall."

"You did?" Hi said sharply. "Thanks for the invite, jerks."

Shelton raised his palms. "You were at temple. We're suppose to wait around? Plus, you've seen that movie like five times."

"You still could've asked," Hi grumbled. "I don't—"

"Guys!" I clapped my hands once. "The story, please."

"So many gentleman admirers," Hi mused. "Must be tough, being a heartbreaker."

"Zip it. Unless you wanna see a leg-breaker too."

Ella adopted a mock serious tone. "Will you bodyguards consent?"

I giggled. "If Shelton and Hi are my bodyguards, I don't like my chances. And yes."

"See this?" Ben glanced at the mirror and pointed to his chin. "This is my 'couldn't care less' face."

"Boys?" I stood and faced them. "Something to share?"

"It was a secret." Hi aimed a kick at Shelton, who dodged easily. "Ben made us swear not to tell."

I crossed my arms. Waited.

"Tell Kit we're cutting a music video," Hi suggested as we walked. "Something real gangster, so we need to smash-cut our dance routines. Lay down some visuals. We could offer to let him freestyle rap over the second verse."

"Come on, Sambo!" Hi winked. "Live a little. What are we going to do, rob the place?"

The guard crossed his arms. "Wink at me again, Hiram, and I'll throw you to the wolfpack."

"Did I not mention that?" My brain was truly deep fried. "We went together."

"Oh." Hi and Shelton at once. Ben looked away.

"Hey, wait." I leaned closer to the screen. "You guys wouldn't have wanted to go. I took Ella so I wouldn't be paraded around like Whitney's toy poodle." No one spoke. Nonplussed, I decided to change the subject.

I glowered at Ben from the backseat. I'd given Hi shotgun, having sensed this argument was inevitable. I didn't want to be close. The urge to slap might become overpowering.

"Why don't we use our friendly words?" Hi suggested. "Let's take five, and everyone can say something we like about each other. I'll start. Shelton you're super at—"

"Shut up, Hi!" Ben and I shouted, the first thing we'd agreed upon all morning.

"Must be hell to keep the pH balance correct. I know how it is. I owned a goldfish once."

"Once?" Shelton asked.

"It died. Almost immediately."

"Nice work."

"It's a cultural thing," Hi was saying. "I think you're being insensitive."

Hines snorted. "Do you want me to cuff you?"

"Kinda."

"A minute alone, Tory. I'd like a quick chat."

Ben shot forward. "You can stick chat right up—"

Hi waved at me from across the yard, waiting for his mother to arrive. Apparently he'd body-blocked the first cops to chase me through the house. The police were none too pleased. I owe you one, Hi. You bought me enough time.

Entering the Virals chat room, I found all three boys present.

Uh oh.

They'd met there ahead of time, before alerting me. To discuss me.

I glanced up to see Shelton holding latex gloves. Hi had the ziplocks. Ben handed me a cotton swab and stopper. "Anything else?"

Despite the circumstances, I smiled.

Ruth popped her son on the back of the head. "Mind your manners, Hiram."

"Why does everyone do that?" Hi muttered. "And that was child abuse. In front of the police, I might add."

He looked away. The harbour breeze ruffled his silky black hair. My hand found his, almost by its own volition.

I couldn't be mad at Ben anymore. It was like being mad at my left arm. And right then, I needed my arm back.

A smile quirked on my father's lips. "And you, Mr. Blue? Ready for a good ol'-fashioned backyard barbecue? My daughter will be there."

Ben's uneasy smile was his only response.

Ben reached up from where he was lying with his eyes closed. Smacked Hi's dome.

Hi rubbed his head. "I'm getting pretty tired of that move."

"Then quit being a dope." Ben's lids remained shut.

"Hey, sure. No problem. I just need to—"

Hi lunged for Ben, intending a flying body slam. Ben caught Hi in midair and tossed him downhill in one quick motion. Hi tumbled, rolled, and dropped over the berm of the sand.

"That was dumb." Hi informed the blue sky.

Ben started talking about Wando High. I countered with news of Bolton. Before long, we'd exchanged stories, catching up on the last five months of each other's lives. I hadn't realized how much I missed Ben. How badly I wanted him back at Bolton.

He was right, of course. I was keeping several secrets from Ben. Like how comfortable it felt to be alone with him. How much I'd missed his reassuring presence. His quiet strength.

Ben removed his shoes, plunged both feet into the lapping salt waters Then he leaned back against a post, sighing contently. The little-boy maneuver brought a smile to my face.

"You're staying out here?" Shelton asked. "Alone?"

"No big deal. I don't want Kit to see what I'm up to."

"I don't like it," Ben said. Behind him, Hi looked uneasy.

"No one knows this place exists." I pointed to the other room. "And there's an 85 pound predator in there that loves me. I'll be fine."

...

"Text me when you get home." Ben requested. "Please don't forget."

I hid a smile. "Will do. Bye, guys."

I sat forward at the table. "Okay, so ... like, don't freak out."

That got their attention.

"About?" Ben took the seat across from me, next to Hiram.

"There was an incident last night." Oh so calm. "I'm perfectly okay, but on the way hone someone attacked me on the beach."

"What?!" Three stunned voices.

"That's why you didn't text," Ben muttered.

Ben shook his head in wonderment. "Incredible. It's nice having a genius around."

"It's only genius if it works." But I flushed at the compliment.

I squeezed Ben's shoulder. "Who's the genius now?"

He snorted, looked away.

"You let her go alone?" Ben scolded, slowly working his way down to where Hi was beached. "That defeats the whole purpose!"

"I'm aware of that, Benjamin." Hi tried slinging a leg onto the riverbank, but it flopped back into the rolling current. "But she'd figured out you sent her away from the mine on purpose. You try telling Tory what to do when she's pissed."

"I'll pass."

"How's the leg, detective? Or did my wolfdog bite you in the ass, instead?"

"Hey, at least it's not your birthday. Worst one ever, by the way."

His fist came up. I dapped it with mine.

"For Tory," Shelton said.

"For Tory." All jokes shelved.

Coop was rolling in the leaves, pinning someone beneath his massive bulk.

Ben dove on the tangle with a voice-cracking whoop.

I was no longer alone. The Virals had found me. Ben was beaming, unable to hide his relief. He turned quickly, wiping his glowing eyes. Shelton darted forward and crushed me with a hug. Coop was dancing and bucking, his tail wagging so hard he had trouble keeping balance. My boys. My heroes.

"Do you confronted the twins alone, without waiting for us?" Ben couldn't keep the anger from his voice. "After making us promise not to do anything like that?"

"We can discuss my impulsiveness another time—"

"Oh, we will." Ben assured me.

I ejected the spent clip from the HK45, slammed the new one into place, then worked the slide to chamber a round. Then I held the weapon loosely at my side, barrel pointed toward the ground.

"I'm terrified of you right now," Hi said wide-eyed. "And in love. Take me shooting with your aunt Tempe next time."

"Take the SUV and go. I'll stay with Ella and handle the fallout."

"Out of your mind." Ben said immediately.

"We could drive away without anybody knowing."

"I'm not leaving Tory to face this alone," Ben insisted. "Get serious!"

I spoke softly. "The cops will eat you alive, Benjamin Blue. You have to go."

Ben tensed, ready to argue.

"Detective Hawfield died. This is going to get serious. It's way too much heat for you. Please be sensible."

Ben hesitated. Then his shoulders slumped.

"Maybe you're right." Deep breath. "But you're taking away the other possibility, too."

"I don't understand." I glanced over my shoulder at the approaching vehicle. "What other possibility?"

He smiled wanly. "Ben Blue, The Hero. That kinda would've been nice."

I paused, at a loss for words. My heart broke for him.

"But that's okay." Ben dug keys from his pocket. "After all, we're Virals, not heroes. And that's fine. Plus, I'm not really the hero type."

He turned to leave.

Impulsively, I grabbed Ben's arm. Pulled him close. Smashed my lips against his. The kiss only lasted a second, but also an eternity. Then I stepped back an shoved Ben towards the Explorer.

"Of course you're the type." I was grateful the darkness hid my blushes. "Now go."

Ben stared, stricken, thunderstruck. Hi and Shelton watched, wide-eyed with shock.

"Weirdest birthday ever," Hi whispered.

"Corcoran will survive," Ben commented sourly. "He always does. We crack the case, he gets to be the hero."

My head whipped to Ben. Was that bitterness?

I saw no trace. Ben was smiling, relaxed for the first time in days. Maybe months.

As my father strode away, Shelton and Hi both unleashed dramatic yawns.

"Welp." Hi stretch his arms over his head. "I'd better go check on various things that aren't right here. You coming, Shelton?"

"Oh you know it." Hiding a smile. "Stuff to do. No time to waste."

I descended two steps.

Stopped.

Shot back up.

Wrapped Ben in a bone-crushing hug.

Startled, it took him a moment before he hugged me back.

"He didn't say anything to me," Hi repeated. "And if Shelton were sick, I'd be the first to hear about it. At length."

"So what's the plan?" Ben asked.

"Go inside. Look around. Improvise."

"Brilliant." Hi stroked his chin. "Quick question: Is having no plan the same as having a terrible plan, or are those different categories?"